#yes I know I am skeptical because its April first

[gale-gentlepenguin]

GUYS! IT LEAKED!

THE FIRST TWO EPISODES OF ML GOT LEAKED! AND THEY ARE IN ENGLISH!

I don't know how long they will be active but I got the links to them while they are still up.

Truth

Lie

After you guys watch let me know your thoughts. And check out my review and live reaction of the episodes underneath the read more. Spoilers below

(This is an April fools joke)

Gale Reviews: Miraculous Ladybug, Season 4, Episode 1: TRUTH

(With Live reaction)

-So Marinette is trying to find a place to store the ladybug miracle box. Its funny for a bit.

-Tikki suggests hiding it under her bed. Which Marinette does for the time being. But find its way to hard to access normally.

-"Ill figure something out" Marinette explains.

-The Kwami are swarming around the room, exploring. Barkk found the TV.

-Marinette's phone rings, And its Luka. With a heart at the end of the contact. (Resisting urge to gag)

-Luka calls to ask if she remembers that they have a date planned for today. Going to see Jagged's new movie.

-The kwami are f***ing creeping on the conversation. Marinette says she remembers and that she won't miss this one. Like she did the other nine times. I cracked up at that part.

-Luka tells her that he made sure she wouldn't forget. Since he showed up to her place.

-Marinette quickly tells Luka that she has to go. Then yells at the kwami to get in the box.

-Sass asks if the boy she was talking to was Luka.

-"Yes. Now in the box."

-Sass ships Lukanette.

-Hilariously Barkk does not. I love Barkk.

-So Luka is in Marinette's house with her parents as marinette rushed downstairs.

-Its a really awkward scene since Marinette never told her parents she was dating Luka.

-Protective Tom activated.

-Luka assures them that they haven't been on their first official date yet.

-That eases the parents.

-Marinette tells her mom and dad a bit about Luka before her phone goes off, letting her know the movie is gonna start soon.

-The two leave in a hurry.

-"I prefer the one she confessed to last time."

-"TOM!"

-Tom ships Marichat

_____________________________________________________________

-Adrien tries calling Kagami to see if she wants to see the Jagged stone movie, but she says she is busy with archery.

-So Adrien tries calling Nino, who is with Alya.

-So Adrien thinks about it and remembers Marinette loves Jagged Stone. She would probably love to see that movie.

-"I will call Mari... wait."

-Adrien has an imaginary scenario.

-He asks Marinette to the movies, Luka is mad and Kagami is mad.

-"Maybe that wouldn't be a good idea..." Adrien said kind of bummed.

-Plagg asks why it isn't a good idea. Isn't he friends with marinette?

-Adrien explaining why asking another guy's girlfriend to the movies is wrong.

-"You sound more bummed that you can't go with marinette then your own girlfriend." Plagg is SPITTING TRUTH!

-Adrien dismisses that notion, and decides he will try a few other people.

___________________________________________________________

-Wow Nathalie looks awful. She tries to get out of bed with a cane and falls down.

-Gabriel there to help her up. I wish the show would stop shoving the adultery subplot down our throats.

-Gabriel explains that he finally figured out how to use both miraculous at the same time. Which means Nathalie can focus on resting.

-Nathalie insists she can help. But Gabriel tells her that she has done more than needed. She deserves a break. He can't thank her enough for everything.

-Nathalie looks like she wants to confess.

-"You are truly an irreplaceable friend and confidant."

-MOTHERFUCKING GABRIEL 'just a friend' AGRESTE! ITS GENETIC

-Nathalie says of course, and says she is tired.

-I feel bad for Nathalie.

_____________________________________________________________

-Okay so Lukanette date.

-Marinette springs the gift on him.

-Its a necklace made with the guitar pick he first gave her in Captain Hardrock I think.

-Luka loves it.

-Okay the scene that was leaked in the trailer. Big moment, WILL THEY KISS?

-and its really close and... AKUMA ALERT! Right off the bat. So close.

-Marinette gives an excuse about her dad calling. She will be right back before the movie starts.

-Luka says its okay. And says when she gets back to grab some popcorn

-Marinette gives him a peck on the cheek and rushes off.

-Well you get a cheek kiss. But DAMN they really made me think they would actually do it. I got nervous.

-Ladybug arrives on the scene and its... mr.Pigeon again.

-Ladybug is really annoyed, until she sees the Giant PIGEON SENTIMONSTER!

- Chat noir arrives and comments that this might be more difficult then they thought.

-Ladybug says that they will handle it in a flash.

__________________________________________________________

-Luka watched the whole movie alone. The Usher told him to leave the seat.

-Just OUCH, I legit feel bad for Luka. My dude. I am so sorry

-Luka looking for Marinette at the theater but she is gone.

-DOUBLE OUCH

-He tries calling... and straight to voice mail. and 3 strikes!

-Luka starts walking out very disgruntled

-He gets to that bridge in the promo (its sunset) and Marinette arrives running to him. Telling him to wait.

-He turns around.

-She starts apologizing. Some excuse that its a bakery emergency

-"Your not being honest."

-Marinette tries to recover, but Luka says he wants to know what she has been hiding.

-"I am not hiding anything."

-"Marinette, please stop lying to me. Just tell me whats going on. I will understand. Just tell me."

-Marinette says softly she can't.

-"What?"

-"I said I can't tell you. Im sorry"

-She runs off.

-Luka looks hurt, and then angry. Looking at the necklace.

-"Why can't you trust me... What is so big you can't trust me?" He looks so angry. And frankly, I don't blame him.

-And cue Shadow moth, who is now revealing his transformation as shadowmoth. And I still think its ugly.

-Hawkmoth comments the spiel about being a disgruntled boyfriend who is felt put out by his girlfriend.

-Sends the akuma and Amok.

-Luka gets akumatized.

-Okay, now THIS is a good akumatization. I am not spoiling it but Shadowmoth and Luka's dialogue is TOPS here.

-He runs into Alya and the girls and tests out his powers on them. Alya thinks Nino looks better without glasses. Rose admits she only loves some of her stuffed animals and the guilt is killing her. Juleka admits that Luka dating one of her friends is creepy. THANK YOU JULEKA FOR SAYING IT.

_____________________________________________________________

-Adrien is bummed that he didn't get to see the movie. and as he was walking Bumps into marinette. Who ran into him

-Okay so this scene, TOP TEIR ADRINETTE.

-Adrien comforting Marinette, saying that Luka would understand.

-"Is it wrong to keep secrets from him?"

-"Sometimes we keep secrets because it will keep them safe. There is a right time to tell them, but it isn't always when we want to tell them."

-Marinette thanks Adrien for the advice and... OH KWAMI! TRUTH IS RIGHT THERE WATCHING!

-He knocked Adrien into the water.

-Truth and the Sentimonster are tailing Marinette.

-Adrien got a chance to transform.

-Marinette swerved to get to her house. Getting the giant eye sentimonster to bump into something.

-Marinette gets to her room, where truth tries asking her what she is hiding!

-AND CHAT NOIR JUMPS IN WITH A HIGH KICK.

-They fight and Marinette tries to make sure the miracle box is hidden.

-Chat noir asking if Truth had a bad date or something. VERY POOR CHOICE OF WORDS!

-Chat noir knocks Truth out of the bedroom. He tells Marinette to go hide. He and Ladybug will get her boyfriend back to normal.

-Marinette thanks chat noir and runs out of view.

-Shadowmoth tells Truth to get Chat noir's secret, it will help him deal with the pest so he can achieve his goal. Truth agrees.

-Ladybug arrives and wam bam.

-Ladybug tells chat noir NOT to get caught in the gaze of that

-If you are still reading this at this point I gotta say I admire your dedication, but this is an elaborate prank.

April fools!

[trulymadlysydney]

Somewhere In Time: Nine

“The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected. Maybe they always have been and will be. Maybe we've lived a thousand lives before this one and in each of them we've found each other. And maybe each time, we've been forced apart for the same reasons. That means that this goodbye is both a goodbye for the past ten thousand years and a prelude to what will come.”

-Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook

tw: Death, Loss of Parent

Previous Chapters HERE

***Please Do Not Repost Without Permission***

April 18th, 1963, 1:32pm

It’s a warm spring day, one of the first of the year, and ten year-old Tanya Elliot is thrilled to be done with class for the day.  

She steps out into the sunshine, forgoing her jacket and instead slinging it over her arm as she says her quick goodbyes to her five best friends.  None of them are headed to the same destination; Sherry’s mom picks her up in the parking lot, Marcy and Jana both take the bus, Kelly walks over to the high school to meet up with her brother, and Shannon walks home-- only in the opposite direction that Tanya does.  

With an agreement to meet up in their usual spot tomorrow morning before school (and Kelly’s promise to bring some extra sweets from her mother’s baking club), they set off on their separate ways.  Tanya shifts her backpack to her left shoulder, and begins her fifteen minute walk home.

She takes a big deep breath of the sweet smelling air, enjoying the way the sun feels against her face.  She wonders if maybe she could convince her parents to take a trip to the lake on Saturday; maybe she could work on her tan for a bit.  (And besides, she wouldn’t mind seeing Willard, the older boy who lives with his family in a gorgeous house right on the water.)

Tanya stops walking and is completely knocked out of her thoughts when something-- someone-- across the playground catches her attention.

It seems to be another little girl, definitely no older than Tanya herself.  Tanya finds her eyes fixated on the girl the moment she sees her. She’s beautiful, but she sticks out like a sore thumb because her clothing is not at all of this time period.

Tanya stops walking, eyeing the girl from afar. As completely out of place as she seems, she looks perfectly calm. She watches the other children, a slight smile on her face. No one seems to acknowledge her much, except for maybe a confused glance or a laugh at her appearance.  She brushes off the children’s snickers (as far as Tanya can tell, she doesn’t even react at all) and continues to scan the playground as if looking for something.

The girl seems to feel Tanya’s eyes, because her soft smile only grows in intensity before she turns her eyes to meet Tanya’s gaze.  It makes Tanya’s blood run cold, but it also piques her curiosity intensely.

At first, Tanya thinks she’s perhaps seeing a ghost; after all, she’s lived in this town all her life and never noticed this strange girl with the strange clothes. But at any rate, it doesn’t frighten her much, and when the young girl smiles at Tanya, Tanya thinks better of her original assumption.

Tanya glances down at her watch-- a gold watch that is much too big for her wrist-- to read the time: 2:32.  Her mother will be expecting her home in fifteen minutes, and will probably start to worry should she be but a minute later.

Still, Tanya can’t shake the feeling that this girl is important.  There’s something in her eyes that feels familiar and welcoming, and an overwhelming sense of magnetism radiating from her very being.  Tanya knows better than to talk to strangers, of course, but this isn’t a stranger; this is another little girl.  A friend, perhaps.

So she bites the bullet and makes her way across the wood-chip covered playground, without any regard as to whether the girl wants to speak to her as well.  

“Are you new?” Tanya asks as she approaches, by way of introduction.  

The girl smiles an all knowing smile, as if she’s been waiting for Tanya to ask  “I’m Violet.”

Tanya laughs at that.  “Neat.  That’s not what I asked, but neat.  I’m Tanya.”

“Hello Tanya.”  Violet remains weirdly comfortable throughout this entire interaction, as if she’s spoken to Tanya several times before this.  She nods towards her hand.  “I like your ring.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m not new, no.  I’m from the past.”

Tanya isn’t sure she’s heard Violet correctly the minute the words leave Violet’s mouth. She blinks, waiting for Violet’s face to change to reveal that she is, in fact, joking.  But her face never changes.  She remains stone faced and unmoving, and it takes Tanya aback.

After a charged yet awkward silence, Tanya speaks. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I—“

“No you did,” Violet cuts her off. “You heard correctly.”

Tanya blinks dumbly back at her new friend.  “I don’t…. understand…?”

Violet sighs, almost as if bothered to be explaining herself.  “I travelled through time to get here here.  From the past.”

Now, Tanya grows skeptical. She wonders if this is one of her friends playing a prank on her, and she glances around to see if anyone is watching her from afar and holding in their giggles. When she’s met only with complete normalcy, however, she turns back to her new friend.

“But how?” She asks. “How is that possible?”

Violet shrugs. “I don’t know. I just know that it is. Because here I am.”

Tanya, still skeptical, laughs in disbelief. “Alright” she says, “well then what year are you from?” She puts air quotations around the question, which only makes Violet laugh in a way that makes Tanya feel immature.

“I come from 1907,” Violet explains. “What year is this? 1967?”

“1963,” Tanya corrects. “But I’m sure you knew that.”  She rolls her eyes.  “Look, what’s the big idea? I know you’re trying to fool me, and it isn’t working.”

Violet shakes her head. “But I’m not, silly!” She says. “I’ve been working since I was small to learn how to time travel.  And I finally did it!”

“Wow,” Tanya deadpans, still completely unconvinced.  “How did you do it?”

Violet grins. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“To tell you the truth, Violet,” Tanya says, absentmindedly picking at the dirt under her nails, “I don’t.”

“I didn’t think so.” Violet giggles. “But if you really want to know, I’ll tell you.”

Tanya glances nervously around the playground once again. She knows she’s already going to be late coming home anyway, so there’s no reason she shouldn’t stay here and talk to the odd girl. Still, she doesn’t want to push her own luck with her mother.

She shrugs. “Actually, I gotta get home,” she explains. “But if you wanna walk with me, you can.”

Violet smiles, looking more childlike than she has in their entire interaction. “Really? Gee, I’d love that!”

“Really?” Tanya smiles. “Alright. Follow me.”

The two girls fall into step, side by side, as Violet launches right into her story about time travel. This doesn’t seem to be a secret for her— in fact it seems about as common a topic as the weather for Violet— but Tanya grows slightly embarrassed at the volume of the other girl’s voice.

It’s all so strange really, how trusting Violet is of Tanya. Then again, Tanya could really say the same thing about herself.  She doesn’t know what it is about the peculiar girl that causes her to trust her so much, but at any rate she enjoys her company. (Even if her story is a bit odd.)

What Tanya hadn’t anticipated, of course, was the connection and friendship she would develop with this girl.   She hadn’t anticipated inviting the girl over for dinner that night, (and she hadn’t expected her mother to say yes).  She hadn’t anticipated spending all of her free time with Violet, laughing and playing together and becoming the best of friends. And she definitely hadn’t  anticipated that within the coming weeks, she would come to believe Violet’s story whole-heartedly, which would instill within her a deep fascination in the concept of time travel.

And more than anything, she hadn’t expected their goodbye to be so painful.

Violet had explained to her multiple times that this was the first time she’d done anything like this.  She had also explained that, although she would try, there was no guarantee she would be able to come back.  And although Tanya had listened and valued what her friend was saying, she hadn’t exactly believed her.  She had faith that her friend was going to come back.  She had faith they would be friends forever.

But when Violet disappears, on exactly the day that she’d said she would and without saying a proper goodbye to Tanya, Tanya grows desperate.

It’s why, in the years that follow, Tanya finds herself immersed in book after book, depicting time travel and its possibilities.   It’s why she reaches out, through any means necessary, trying to find some way to communicate with her friend from another time. Her friend, who quickly became a soulmate best friend, who understood her in ways many others did not.

It’s why Tanya finds herself grounded for a week the summer before 7th grade because she got in a fight with a boy at school who told her time travel was bogus.

It’s why she finds herself, on the night of her fifteenth birthday party, being relentlessly teased by her friends for still being interested in time travel.

And it’s why, on April 18th, 1975, she finds herself crying on her bed after another failed time travel attempt.

Her one year-old daughter Veronica sleeps peacefully in her crib as Tanya tries, to absolutely no avail, to travel back to her friend.  She wants to tell Violet all about her daughter.  She wants to tell Violet that, despite the literal years that separate them, she’s always considered Violet to be her baby’s godmother.   She isn’t even sure why she’s still so hung up on this whole ordeal, but in any case she’s desperate to find an answer, and to know if Violet is searching for one too.

Tanya glances out at the night sky, the skyline of New York—so hopeful and inspiring to some, but so suffocating to her— promising Violet that she will never give up.

She promises, out loud, that she will never stop trying to find her friend.  In every lifetime. In every timeline. She swears she will do her best to find her.

And with a discouraged heart that she tries to ignore, Tanya goes to bed; dreaming of a world far different than her own, in which times are simpler, and her best friend lives forever.

---------------

January 9th, 1925,  8:22am

It’s a quiet, somber morning in Harry’s apartment.  In the same fashion that they have for the past few mornings, Harry and Roni work side by side to prepare breakfast in the kitchen.  Only this time, it’s quiet. Nearly wordless. Their kisses are dry but lingering, and it makes them both feel guilty in a way that neither can explain.

Harry fights to suppress the urge to beg Roni, at least once or twice more, to stay with him; and Roni has to hold back the tears threatening to spill at any moment because she feels entirely too overwhelmed with questions.  What if she’s doing the wrong thing?  What if she chose to stay?  How would all of her loved ones back home manage to live? Or what if they didn’t,  and Roni’s decision killed them all off?  Would it be quick and painless for all her loved ones in her original timeline?  Would they just all together stop existing? Would anyone even remember them?

“I don’t like this,” Harry speaks up, drawing Roni from her thoughts as they sit wordlessly at the dining table.

“Hm?”  Roni doesn’t ask it because she didn’t hear what he said.  Rather, she asks as a way to fill the silence that follows his words.

“I don’t like that we’re just… not saying anything.  I don’t know.”

Roni sighs.  “I know,” she admits.  “It’s not how I wanted our last morning to go.”

Harry winces subtly at her words-- “our last morning,”-- and Roni wishes more than anything that she could take them back.  But she can’t.  There is no way around the inevitable any longer.

“I hate feeling like--”  Harry trails off, and Roni doesn’t push him to finish the sentence.

“Like we’ve run out of things we can say?” she offers after a moment, tracing the rim of her mug with her fingers.  “Me too.  It kills me.”

Harry gives her only a sad smile in response, which breaks Roni’s heart even further.  She wants to suggest pretending like everything is fine, of course, the same way she has every morning for the past week.  But she can’t.  Not anymore.  The decision has been made, and she can’t change her mind now.

Unless…

“Your food is going to get cold,” Harry chuckles, and Roni glances down at the room temperature piece of toast that’s been sitting in her hand for the past five minutes.  She laughs bitterly, and swallows the lump that refuses to go down in her throat.

“Sorry,” she says. “Kinda nauseous.  Not in a breakfast sort of mood.”

“Well you’ll have to eat something.”  Harry drums his fingers absentmindedly along the tabletop.  “Got a long journey ahead of you, y’know.”

He says it with a smile, but the words only cause the lump in Roni’s throat to grow ten sizes.  She knows he’s trying to be encouraging, but it hurts far, far too much.  She thinks that if the pain of overthinking doesn’t kill her, the suffocating feeling in her throat surely will.

Harry notices her facial expression, and his cheeks go red.  “Sorry.”

Roni’s face grows hot and her eyes go a bit foggy. She had told herself this morning that she wasn’t going to cry all day today, at least not until that evening as they were saying their final goodbyes. This vow, however, had come after a silent cry as she lay in bed watching her sleeping lover breathe softly with tousled curls and a sleepy pout on his face.  She could lay with him and watch him sleep like that forever.

So she giggles half-heartedly and unconvincingly, pulling away from his loving touch and fanning at her moist eyes with her hands. “Ah!” She groans. “Sorry. I wasn’t gonna cry until—“

“Hey, hey!” Harry leans earnestly across the table, reaching forward and placing his hand comfortingly on her back. “It’s okay, honey.  Listen, you’re okay.  It’s okay to cry.”

“This blows,” Roni says, her words accented by a bitter laugh. “I fucking hate this.”

Harry chuckles at her words. “As do I, honey. But it’s okay.” He scratches at her spine lightly, his voice softening as he repeats his words for emphasis. “It’s going to be okay.”

Roni looks at him, no longer trying to supress the single tear rolling down her cheek.  He offers her the sweetest smile in return, and she leans across the table to kiss it softly.  “Angel,” she says. “You’re a fucking angel.”

It makes Harry giggle, and he pulls away to stab gently at his scrambled eggs with his fork.

“Been thinking.”  He speaks a moment later around a mouthful.

“Yeah?”

“Mm. Think we should make tonight special.”

“Special,” Roni scoffs. “Not quite the word I’d use for it.”

“I know,” Harry chuckles, “but it might ease the blow a bit.”

Roni rests her elbows on the table, leaning in to listen to him. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well,” Harry says, allowing himself a pause to swallow his food. “It’s going to be cold, so that might put a bit of a damper on the evening.”

“Because it was going to be such a lovely evening otherwise,” Roni says sarcastically, and Harry rolls his eyes at her cheekiness before continuing.  

“Was thinking we could build a fire. Pack some food, maybe some candles. Extra blankets. You can wear my coat that you like.”  His smile deepens. “You know. Just make tonight as pleasant as we can make it.  Maybe a bit romantic. Go out with a bang, so to speak.”

Roni hesitates, trying to fight the subtle smirk threatening to form on her face.  “Was that a play on words?”

“Hm?”

“You know.”  Roni shifts in her seat, enjoying the playful banter that’s briefly lightening the mood.  “A ‘bang.’  Like we’re gonna bang later.”

Harry laughs, an amused furrow in his brow.  “I don’t understand.  What does that mean?”

“You don’t use the term banging?  Like, for having sex?”

“Never heard of that, no.”  Harry grins.  “It’s catchy.  I like it.”

“Right?”  Roni raises her coffee mug to her lips.  “I figured that’s what you meant.”

“Do you want to-- eh-- bang? Tonight?”  Harry laughs at the phrase that feels so foreign in his own mouth, and it makes Roni giggle in spite of herself.

“I mean we don’t have to.  We might be too sad to bang.  We can see where the wind takes us.”

“The wind is going to take you right on back to 1999,”  Harry says sadly, although his smile still lingers on his cheeks.

Roni’s smile fades, and she feels her shoulders visibly sink.  “Well,” she says softly, “yeah.”

Harry chuckles. “Sorry. We’re talking in circles here, aren’t we?” He nods towards her plate. “Can I make you something else, darling?”

———————

The rest of the day feels like a strange dream, both dragging on and passing by in a blur. They make slow, quiet love on the couch, and they tease each other playfully when they both inevitably start crying.  When the sun begins its natural descent, they turn on some cheerful music to try and ease their anxiety, but it doesn’t help— reminding them instead of all the fun times they’ve had together.

Harry sighs after the third record they’ve put on doesn’t do the trick. “Can I play something else?” He asks, quietly but hopefully. “It’s gonna be a bit sad, but… you know.”

Roni shrugs. “Shoot,” she offers. “Not like you can bring the mood today down any further.”

Harry chuckles. “Well…” he says, then trails off. He gives Roni’s knee a gentle squeeze before rising to his feet, padding barefoot across the carpet to switch songs.

In such a simple act, Roni finds herself particularly overwhelmed with emotion. She watches him, eyes trailing the spanse of his broad back, admiring the way his trousers cling to his pert backside and the way he stands, legs apart and with most of his weight on his right side. She wonders if he’s aware that he stands like that.

In all of her twenty-six years of living, she’s never fallen so deeply in love with the tiniest characteristics of a person before. Not until Harry. She notices everything about him, and finds every bit of it endearing— (even the way he snores in his sleep so loudly it wakes her up).  These specific moments of quiet admiration hold as much weight and value in her memory as those instances of passionate love making or deep belly laughter or falling asleep in one another’s arms. It’s all so deliciously him—them— and she can’t seem to fathom continuing on in a world without him.

When the music begins, Roni’s throat feels like it’s closing in around itself.  She recognizes the song instantly— it’s one he’d played for her back when she’d first gotten here. It sounds different this time, and it doesn’t take Roni long to realize that this isn’t the instrumental version she’d first heard. This time, it’s the version with lyrics; lyrics that hold a much deeper value in her heart than the first time Harry had whispered them in her ear.  Roni looks at Harry, helpless, as the opening notes begin playing.

Gone is the romance that was so divine

‘Tis broken and cannot be mended

Harry joins in, stepping gently towards Roni with a sympathetic, yet understanding smile.  “You must go your way, and I must go mine, but now that our love dream has ended…”  Harry trails off, his eyes growing misty (though he fights hard to suppress it.  “Fitting, innit?”

“Oh Harry,” Roni sighs. She rises to her feet, taking his hand and allowing him to pull her into him. They sway gently, in what could hardly be considered a waltz, and Roni tries desperately to push the anxiety in her throat down.  She rests her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and breathing in his scent by his neck.  He holds her like he’ll never let her go.

“Remember the first time we did this?” Harry asks quietly.

“How could I forget?” Roni laughs.  “Feels like a lifetime ago.”

Harry rests his cheek lightly on Roni’s head.  “It does, doesn’t it?”

They continue to sway, hardly exchanging any words, and Roni doesn’t even realize that she’s crying (again) until she pulls away to look up at Harry and notices her tear stains against his shirt.  He’s trying not to cry as well; Roni can tell by the way he refuses to look anywhere but at one spot on the wall. But when Roni kisses the corner of his chin, he softens with a chuckle, shaking his head as if he can’t believe their luck.

“I’m already missing you, bunny.”

Roni sniffs, nuzzling her face back into Harry’s chest. “I’m missing you more than you know.”

Not another word is spoken, and even after the song ends, they stand together in silence.  They’re hardly swaying any longer at this point— mostly they’re just holding one another while they still can.  After about five minutes, Harry audibly swallows.

“We should probably get going. It’ll be dark soon.”

His words make Roni nauseous, knowing that her time left in this humble apartment is limited now to only minutes. She stops swaying, and Harry makes no effort to let go of her. He sighs, scratching tenderly at her back. “I know,” he whispers, “I hate it, too.”

Roni tries her best to keep a brave face. “Trying to get rid of me that quick are you?” she teases. She’s delighted when she hears a genuine laugh bubble out from Harry’s mouth.

“Oh honey,” he says, kissing the top of her head. “Never, never. Never in a million years.”

They remain still, holding one another in their embrace until they both become painfully aware that they really do need to get going.  The process of untangling themselves from one another’s arms takes much longer than necessary, and even as they let go they immediately interlace their fingers.

“I don’t have anything to pack,” Roni admits. “You can keep my party dress from when I got here. It’s too cold for me to put it on and sit on the beach tonight. And as for the ones you bought me—“ She trails off, glancing down at the skirt of the pretty dress she’s wearing right now. “Well, you can keep those, too. Not sure how much use I’ll have for them in the year 2000.”

“You never know,” Harry jokes, trying to keep things light hearted. “Maybe there’ll be a costume party or something--”

Roni giggles, shaking her head and wiping her eyes. “Harry.”

He smiles, leaning forward and kissing her nose.  “I’ll pack up some snacks and a few other things we might need.  A blanket maybe.  You get your stones and such.  And,” a crooked smile tugs on his cheek,  “that coat you like.”

Roni grins, in spite of herself.  “Can I wear your cap?”

“Do you want to wear my cap?”

“I want any piece of you on me that I can possibly get.”

Harry chuckles, and for a moment everything feels completely normal.  “Cheeky,” he mutters, pinching her butt before turning to busy himself in the kitchen.

Roni watches him for a bit, and although he’s aware of it he doesn’t make some cheeky, embarrassed little remark requesting her to stop.  She watches the way he moves around the kitchen that she’s grown so familiar with.  The kitchen, so beyond tiny and cozy, connecting to the living room that has come to smell like home.

The memories they have made in this humble living room in such a short amount of time begin playing like a film in Roni’s mind.  Dancing together, cooking, making lol, building puzzles; the most mundane things made to be so magical because they were done together.

Roni smiles to herself at the memory of how unpleasantly she’d treated Harry in the beginning. She feels bad, of course, but it’s humorous to think about now  because she was so lost at the time.

“I’m still here!”  Roni exclaims, infuriated that Harry doesn’t seem as shocked about this as she does.

“You are.”  Harry nods, the scrambled eggs in the frying pan sizzling under the spatula.  “Did you sleep well?”

“Harry, holy fuck, how is this happening?”  Roni doesn’t dare move, as if moving is going to trap her even further.  She feels like the walls are closing in on her as the full extent of the situation hits her.  She hadn’t allowed herself to fully feel these feelings the night before, because she hadn’t seen this as a permanent issue.  But now here she is, in a year that doesn’t even feel real, with a bastard who doesn’t even seem to care about her concerns.  

Harry smiles to himself.  “I don’t know, pet.  Honestly, I was kind of thinking that maybe you were drunk and just forgot where you were last night.”

“I wasn’t drunk, and I didn’t forget, but thank you for completely invalidating me.”  Roni huffs. Stomping across the living room and plopping down onto the most uncomfortable couch she’s ever felt in her life, she figures this is an appropriate time to just pout– especially considering that Harry isn’t going to give into her panicking.  “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”  She props her elbows on her knees and buries her head in her hands.

“Eat some breakfast and relax,” Harry answers.  “We’ll figure this out. Would you like some tea?”

Roni smiles at the memory of her first morning here, feeling overwhelmed by the complete 180 her heart has done.  At the time, she’d wanted nothing more than to go home, and she hadn’t believed Harry when he’d said they would figure it out.   Now that they have, she wants nothing more than to stay here.

She makes her way into Harry’s tiny bedroom, the film of her memories continuing to roll through her mind. She had found this place so odd, so minimalistic, and she’d thought Harry was a nutjob for giving up his bed for her.  She remembers helping him place the fitted sheets along the mattress, and she remembers waking up early and watching people through the small window.  

Her cheeks grow hot, however, as the memory of the first time they made love in this bed plays in her head.

“Don’t do this… unless you mean it.”

Roni sees the earnestness in his eyes, and she’s never been more sure of anything in her life. She brushes the tip of her nose against his before licking her lips and pulling him in for another kiss. This kiss isn’t as elaborate as it had been moments ago, but it’s sweet, and she feels all the tension in his shoulders release.

When she pulls away, she smiles, reaching up to brush a wild strand of hair off of his forehead.  She nods her head.

“I mean it.”

She chuckles, running her hand along the thin duvet of the bed and making her way to the small closet.  She has to say one final goodbye to her dresses-- the ones that Harry had used his last dollars to purchase for her. The ones that had felt so funny and so foreign on her the first time she’d worn them.  

They hang, untouched and cold, among the few dressier shirts that Harry owns, and Roni’s heart clenches at the thought of them hanging here forevermore.  She thinks perhaps Harry should give them away, maybe to Daisy— although come to think of it, these may be far too dull for Daisy taste.  Maybe Harry could sell them, make a bit of extra cash.  Or maybe—

“Veronica.”

Harry’s voice from the doorway startles her out of her thoughts, and she whirls around on her heel with a jump.  She hadn’t realized she was crying again (although the ache behind her eyes should have been a dead giveaway), and Harry notices her tears immediately.  He doesn’t go to her, he only nods sympathetically when she laughs and gives him a shrug in surrender, as if to admit “yeah, I’m crying again, so what.”

“You alright, darling?”

She takes a slow deep breath in, savoring the smell of his little place that she’s fallen so deeply in love with, and examining it one last time before nodding and turning back to him. “I’m alright,” she says with finality. “Let’s do this.”

---------------

The beach is freezing, because of course it is, and Roni and Harry shiver as they set up their blanket on the shore.  Roni reminds Harry several times that he didn’t have to do all this— he didn’t even have to come with her if he didn’t want to— but he is having none of it.

Roni shivers, wearing Harry’s heavier coat and his little cap that she’s grown so fond of, and her breath comes out in a visible puff of air.

“Can you set up the snacks and the stones and such?” Harry asks. “It’s too bloody cold for me to wait any longer on starting the fire.”

Roni nods, the thought of the warm fire cheering her up. She reaches into the picnic basket and begins sorting through the various snacks they’ve decided to bring.  

Harry really had thought of everything, just to add a bit of a sense of normalcy to this whole ordeal.  He’d packed some leftover cold pasta salad  that they’d had from the night before, along with a bottle of chocolate milk for them to share.  It was adorable watching him pack, especially when he got so excited about bringing items to make “these new treats called S’mores! They’re delicious, bunny, you’ll love them!” (Roni of course hadn’t had the heart to tell him that she was more than familiar with s’mores; not when he looked so cute explaining them to her.)

He had offered to bring candles as well, but ultimately had decided against it when he realized it was a bit windy, and starting a fire was going to be difficult enough.

As if on cue, he curses under his breath, causing Roni to giggle and offer him help; which he, of course, immediately turns down. So Roni let’s him do his thing, setting up all of the various items from the picnic basket and trying not to dwell on the finality of the entire situation.

It’s about fifteen minutes later when Harry finally has a solid fire going.  They eat together, chatting casually about the weather and occasionally bringing up a few of their favorite memories over the past few weeks they’ve shared.  It feels strange, when they really think about it, that their time together hasn’t actually been all that long.  Both agree, albeit somewhat glumly due to the circumstances, that that’s what happens when you meet your twin flame.  It happens, fast and quick and colorful, and then either softens into a comfortable glow or explodes into a million pieces, leaving the flames lost until the next lifetime in which they find each other.  

Neither Roni nor Harry are quite sure where exactly on that scale their situation falls.

After their meal, they work together to clean up the leftover food, shivering and subconsciously moving their bodies closer to the fire.  Roni scowls realizing how little either of them ate, and she sighs, looking out onto the dark, cold ocean.

“This feels like… like the last supper. You know like, in the Bible.”  Roni scowls.  “And I’m the one that’s about to betray you.”

Harry chuckles.  “You’re not betraying me.”

“Well that’s what it feels like.”

“Well, don’t think of it like that,” Harry says softly.  “Think of it like a romantic picnic between two lovers.  I mean, that’s sort of what it is, isn’t it?”

His smile breaks Roni’s heart, but she giggles in spite of herself.  “I suppose,” she says, her own words tasting like bile in her mouth.   Speaking at all right now feels wrong and completely foreign, and the sense of guilt that lingers in her stomach has only intensified tenfold since this morning.  She knows Harry is fully aware of the situation, and that he is prepared for what is about to happen; yet she still can’t shake the feeling that somehow she’s about to betray him.  It’s like she’s looking in the face of an innocent puppy that she’s about to completely abandon-- shivering and helpless.

With that thought comes the terrible imagery of Harry packing all of this up once she’s gone.  Harry-- alone and cold-- folding up the picnic blanket and the leftover food, walking soberly back to his apartment to sleep in his bed alone.  The thought of him tracing the dent made by her head left on his pillow (since neither of them had bothered to make the bed this morning), or him smelling her dresses hanging in his closet, never to be worn again-- it’s all too much for Roni to bear.  She lets out a long huffing sigh, accompanied by a gentle “for fuck’s sake.”

Harry barely looks up at her as he continues to set up all of the various snacks.  “Hm?” he asks.

“Harry--” Roni’s voice is abrupt.  “Am I… doing the right thing?”

Now, Harry does stop.  He looks up at her from under his lashes slowly, as if waiting for her to say something else.  He doesn’t press her, he only looks at her, and it makes her groan.

“You know,” she tries again,  “Like… should I just stay?  I don’t want to erase the people that I love from back home… and I definitely don’t want to erase my mom, but I can’t--”  She breaks off, tears beginning to well in her eyes,  “I can’t lose you.”

Harry’s voice is calm when he speaks.  “Do you think you’re doing the right thing?”

“That’s why I’m asking you!” Roni wails, reaching up to wipe at her eyes.

“Well, bunny,”  Harry stokes the fire a bit more, the embers dancing against the darkening sky,  “You know I can’t make that decision for you.”

“Harry,” Roni sighs in frustration.

“I can’t tell you what you want to hear,” he says slowly, a gentle but sad smile tugging on the corners of his lips, “because I don’t know what you want to hear.  I don’t think you do either.”

Roni wipes at her eyes once again, only to realize that it’s in vain. The tears are thick, and are beginning to flow freely down her cheeks.   Harry watches her sadly, unsure of whether or not he should move.

On the one hand, he wants to go to her.  He wants to take her in his arms, kiss away her tears, beg her to stay; to be his forever.  But on the other hand, he knows that what his beloved Veronica needs the most right now is someone to be strong for her.  And how can he do that when he’s hurting just as much?  How can he hold her in his arms and be strong for her if he knows that the minute he feels her shuddering sob into his chest, he’ll break down as well?

So he stays put, frozen in place focusing his eyes intensely on one spot of the fire. There is nothing more for him to do right now.

The sound of the ocean mixed with the crackling of the fire would be such a beautiful backdrop for a romantic evening together on any other occasion.  But given the circumstances, neither Harry nor Roni are feeling very romantic at present.   Roni shivers, wrapping the coat tighter around her shoulders as a bitter ocean breeze rips through her.

“I can’t lose you,” Roni repeats quietly.

“You won’t,” Harry answers. “I’ll never forget you as long as I live.”  When Roni doesn’t say anything, Harry scoots just a titch closer to her. “Veronica,” he says slowly. “I will never stop trying to find you. Until the day I die, I will try. I will look for you in every corner of the earth. In every lifetime. In every timeline.  I will do my best to find a way to find you. I will never, ever give up.”

Roni sniffs, reaching up to wipe at her runny nose. “And what if you can’t find me?”

Harry swallows audibly. “Well,” he says slowly. “Then.  I’ll wait for you in the sky.”

Roni’s throat swells, and she blinks back a few more tears, licking away the salty remnants that remain on her lips.  “I want you to find me.”

“I’ll find you,” Harry reassures her.  “One way or another.  I will find you.”

Roni blinks at Harry, so many words hanging on the tip of her tongue but no actual voice with which to speak them; especially because she doesn’t even know where she would begin.  She lets out all of the breath in her chest, reaching forward and taking his hand in hers.  “I love you, Harry Styles.”

He smiles, giving her hand a squeeze and running his thumb along the back.  “I love you too, Veronica Elliot.”

After a brief moment, Roni leans across the way to press a few short pecks to Harry’s lips. When she pulls away, she sighs.  “I don’t want to think about it anymore,” she says, “but I’m not sure there’s much else to focus on.”

“Tell me about your father,” Harry offers.

The proposition takes Roni by surprise, and she furrows her eyebrows at Harry. “Forreal?”

“Yeah. Heard all about your mum. Heard nothing about your father.”

Roni blows out a puff of air, wondering where she should start before giving up and shrugging. “Not much to tell.”

“You mentioned he left when you were young,” Harry prompts, “but do you remember him at all?”

Roni shakes her head. “Not at all. He was gone before I was even aware that I existed.”  She laughs. “From what I’m told though, he was awful. My grandma never wanted my mom to be with him.  But she was… I mean, you know, she was young. And no one really listens to their parents when they’re young. Not that young at least. She thought she was in love.”

“And him?”

Roni shrugs. “He thought she was easy.  Knocked her up and poof. Gone.”

Harry furrows his eyebrows. “Knocked her up?”

“Got her pregnant,” Roni giggles. “Nine months later he was gone but—“ she throws her arms up, a sort of ‘tah-dah’ movement, “— the real party arrived.”

Harry laughs, nodding his head. “Absolutely. The world’s biggest blessing came along. I’ll bet he’s sorry he missed it.”

“I doubt it,” Roni says, scrunching her toes into the sand. “Bet he hasn’t even spared a thought for my mom and I.”

Harry says nothing for a moment, only staring deep in thought at the fire and processing Roni’s story.  The fire feels warm on his face, and it makes him a bit sleepy.  He breathes in, low and slow through his nose before speaking again. “Shame.”  He smiles up at Roni, admiring the way the glow of the fire hits her skin.  “Can’t imagine doing something like that.  As a man.  As a father.”

Roni shrugs.  “I can’t either.  But, you know, it happens.  I guess.”

“It shouldn’t.”  Harry shakes his head.  “I wouldn’t let it happen.”

“You think you would ever get married?”  Roni doesn’t exactly realize the weight of her question until it’s slipped past her lips, and she almost regrets asking it.  Harry hardly reacts, save for the flash of his dimple that Roni has grown to love so much.  He averts his gaze, really giving some thought to his answer, then after a moment, he nods.

“Maybe. But at this point, m’not sure it’s really in the cards for me.”

Roni leans forward, genuine concern etched into her features.  “Why not?”

Now he looks back at her from under his lashes.  “You really want to know?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

He smiles sadly. “Because the woman I love is leaving me to go back to her home that’s seventy-five years in the future.”

Harry’s words hit her like a ton of bricks. Not that she was really expecting another answer, of course, but god. “Harry—”

“It’s alright though. It’s the way things have to be, you know? I wouldn’t change us. I wouldn’t change what we’ve been through.” He shrugs. “I’d change the circumstances, sure.  But I’d take a thousand lifetimes of this over never meeting you. So I have to take that for what it is, don’t I?”

In any other situation, Roni would be fully aware that she’s moving far too quickly. But seeing as her time left with Harry is reduced down to merely a few more hours, she doesn’t care.  “I’d marry you in a heartbeat, Harry.”

His face brightens ever so slightly. “Yeah?”

Roni nods earnestly. “In a heartbeat.”

Harry squeezes her hand softly. “Perhaps in another life.”

“And for what it’s worth--”  Roni chews anxiously on her cheek,  then quiets her voice.  “I know my mom would have loved you.  You don’t know her, so that might not mean much to you, but  it’s true.  You’d have her blessing before you could even ask her for it.”

“That means a lot to me.” Harry’s thumb strokes absentmindedly along the back of Roni’s hand.  “I would’ve loved to meet her.”

Yet another long silence falls between the two of them, and Roni shivers when a particularly chilly ocean breeze passes through them.  The movement doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry, and he smiles gently.  “You cold?”  When Roni nods, he immediately scoots over a bit.  “Yeah?  C’mere.”

Roni wastes no time in complying with his request, crawling over to him and making herself comfortable in his lap.  He wraps his arms around her, rubbing up and down her arms and kissing softly at her cheeks. “Better?”

Roni lays her head on Harry’s shoulder, letting her eyes de-focus on the ocean. She doesn’t answer him verbally, electing only to nod and just enjoy his warmth.  

There are a few minutes of silence between the two lovers, and each time Roni catches sight of the full moon, hanging bright and threatening over their heads, her stomach twists.

“Have I mentioned how badly I’m going to miss you?” Harry chuckles.

Roni can’t help but to giggle. Her eyes burn at the mere thought of more tears falling, but at this point she knows that not much can be done to stop them.  “No, I don’t think you have,” she teases.  

She tilts her head to kiss at his neck, sucking gently but with completely innocent intentions— until he shivers slightly, his breath audibly hitching.

Roni takes the nonverbal cue, trailing her lips gently and softly up his neck, and taking his earlobe in between her teeth.  Harry groans, low in his throat.

“Bunny,” Harry says gently, “you don’t have to. If you don’t want to—“

“Who said I didn’t want to?” She peeks her tongue out from between her lips, rolling it just under this ear now. “Do you want to?”

He doesn’t answer her, he only hums, tilting his head to grant her easier access.

“One more,” she mumbles, angling her body so that she’s facing him more. “Please. Can’t leave you without a proper goodbye.”

Harry, once again, says nothing. He takes her hips in his hands and pulls her further onto his lap, angling her so that she’s straddling him now.  He grins up at her, the ocean breeze whipping his curls over his eyes. “God,” he sighs, leaning up to kiss at her neck, “I love you.”

Roni hums, basking in the attention he’s giving her neck and beginning a gentle roll of her hips against his.  She turns her head to catch his lips with her own, smiling against the taste of him she loves so much.  As he parts his lips, tracing her own with his tongue, it feels different than all the times before.  He’s kissing her the exact way she likes, but it’s sad now.   Slow, as if he’s taking his time in order to remember every single detail about her lips.

There’s a wordless conversation occuring between the two of them as they lick, slow and gentle, into one another’s mouths. Roni reaches up to cup at Harry’s cheek, mindful of her cold fingertips and giggling to herself when Harry shivers at her touch.  He hums, leaning further into her kiss and holding her lower back tenderly in his own.

They stay like this, just kissing and enjoying one another’s warmth, before Harry’s hands begin trailing up her back.  He teases his fingertips along her neck, playing with her hair before lifting the cap gently from her head.  He allows it to plop down ungracefully in the sand before guiding his hand up fully into her hair.

She can feel his fingers curling around the hair at the base of her neck before he tugs a bit, successfully pulling her head back.  She moans when he attaches his lips to her pulse in her throat.

It’s sexy, yes, but he takes his time with it, inhaling her scent as he kisses up her supple skin.  Her lashes flutter and she catches a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye; eyes closed, brows furrowed in concentration, as if he wants absolutely nothing to draw his attention away from Roni’s entire being.

Harry is more lost in his thoughts than he intends to be, but he can’t help it.  He’s wanting to remember everything about Roni, her taste, her smell, every curve of her jaw and her chest.  His hand scratches lovingly down her back before trailing along her sensitive sides and up to her breasts-- so tightly concealed beneath her many layers of warmth, but still so pert and delicious.

“Veronica,” he moans, low in his throat and more of sadness than of pleasure, “I love—“

“Don’t,” Roni says, her eyes burning with moisture. She lowers her head, touching her nose to his in an attempt to raise his face. “Don’t do that. Not right now.”  She lets out a shuddering breath, trying to refrain from breaking down. “Please, I can’t—“

“I love you.” He is insistent, wanting her to be sure that his words are true. “I fucking love you.”

“Please,” Roni cries, her voice cracking. “I can’t—“

“We have to—“

“I know but—“

“I fucking love you.”

It’s back and forth for the next few minutes, lips ghosting one another’s and noses brushing— as if breathing one another in and out, as if trying to exist as one person. Roni feels the dampness pooling between her legs, and with every roll of her hips she can feel Harry hardening.

All too soon it becomes  quick and hurried, even a bit sloppy, as Roni slips her panties down her legs and Harry works to get himself unbuttoned.  It’s far too cold to fully undress themselves, they’re both aware of this, but they can’t seem to move quickly enough.  She straddles his cock, and they move so quickly he misses her hole the first time.  She giggles, but it’s cut short when Harry attaches his lips to her neck and sucks, guiding himself inside of her gently.

“Fuck, always so tight,” he moans immediately, “holy fuck.”

They take a moment for Roni to adjust before she sinks further down, letting out a sinful moan that echoes one of Harry’s.  On any other occasion, the two would be far more mindful of their sounds, considering the fact that they’re in public.  But right now it doesn’t matter, especially with the way that Harry sinks his teeth into Roni’s neck, and the way she rolls her hips against his.

Roni gasps when he hits the spongy spot deep inside of her.  Her head tilts back as she lets out one of the most pornographic moans she’s ever made. Harry takes this opportunity and hooks his fingers into the neckline of her dress, pulling it down and attaching his lips to the swell of her left breast. He sucks until his teeth meet her skin, and then he bites, causing her to let out a little cry.  He’s marking her, and she loves it.

“Harry—“ she breathes, fingers frantically pulling at his hair.

He nips at the red little mark he’s left behind, then licks at it gently to soothe the sting.  She hums, tugging at the curls on the base of his neck and shuddering, partly due to the wind and partly due to a particularly delicious thrust.

Lowering her head to rest on Harry’s shoulder, she inhales his scent, shifting her weight a bit so as to not get so easily tired out by her work. He wraps his arms impossibly tighter around her lower back, seemingly trying to get her closer to his body, and Roni groans, loudly, sinking her teeth gently into his shoulder.

She almost misses it when he lets out a soft cry.

In fact, at first she thinks she’s imagining it.  But when the movement of his hips slows, and his breathing becomes more ragged than it was before, she stops moving and pulls away to look at his face.

Harry’s eyes are shut, and in the dim firelight she can make out the dampness of his cheeks.  His lips are curled into a frown, and he shakes his head the minute he realizes that Roni has noticed.  She stops the rolling of her hips and reaches for his face, cupping his cheek in her hand.

He’s sobbing, and he can’t even stop himself.

“Harry,” she says quietly, “Don’t--”

“I’m sorry,” he says, reaching up to wipe at his eyes.  “Fuck, I’m sorry, Veronica.”

Now, Roni feels tears well up in her own eyes as she strokes her thumb along Harry’s cheekbone.  “Don’t apologize,”’ she says through a whisper.    He doesn’t even hear her as he lets out another quiet sob before speaking again.

“I love you.  So so so much.  I don’t know if I can do this.”

Roni doesn’t even try to stop her own tears from falling now, and she squirms a bit with Harry still inside of her.  “Do what?” she whispers.

Harry shakes his head, still not looking in her eyes.  “Live without you.  I’m not strong enough to lose you.”

“Harry,” Roni cries, using her hand to lift Harry’s face and forcing him to look at her.  “We don’t have a choice.”

He lets out a shaky breath, trying to stabilize his chest.  “How can I go on when the person I love more than life isn’t isn’t with me anymore?”

Roni scans his face, feeling at a complete loss for words for the first time this evening. She shakes her head.  “I don’t know,” she says through a sob.  “But we’re going to have to figure it out.”

“Jesus.”   Harry wipes at his eyes again, pulling Roni into him and pressing a few wet kisses to her neck.  He lingers for a moment with his lips to her skin, and Roni can physically feel her heart breaking in half.  

“I didn’t think this was going to be so unbearable,” Harry whispers.  “I knew it would be hard but… fuck.”

“Look at me,” Roni says, pulling away and trying to gently guide Harry’s face up again.  She offers him the most reassuring smile she can muster, but somehow it doesn’t help.  “It’s going to be okay.  Hm?  We’re going to be okay.”

Roni cups his cheek yet again, and Harry leans into her affectionate touch with closed eyes.  She watches him, a lump in her throat so large she’s feeling nauseous, and the reality of their situation hitting her for the hundredth time this evening.

“We’re going to be okay,” she repeats. “You have to promise me you’ll keep going.  Keep trying. Live your life.  And maybe… in another lifetime--”

Harry cuts her off then with a kiss, passionate and gentle all at once.  He allows his hands to trail down her back.  He grips her hips tightly, rolling her against him and groaning low in his throat at the feeling of her walls still around his prick.

She gasps, not at all expecting to feel him as deep as she does, and they share sloppy, hurried kisses as they finish what they’d started.

It’s messy and slow, but it’s deep.  They’re both crying as they move together, lips hungrily exploring whatever area of skin they can get to. Roni bites down somewhere on Harry’s neck and he hisses, knowing he’s going to have an ugly mark there when morning comes.  Harry grips Roni’s hips so tightly they begin to ache, and yet she still finds herself wishing he would hold her tighter.

Minutes later, Harry cums.  Roni doesn’t, but she doesn’t care.  She doesn’t much feel like an orgasm right now, as strange and as out of character as that seems to her; rather, she just wants to stay like this, with the most intimate part of him tucked into the deepest, most private part of her body.  She buries her face in his neck, and he wraps his arms impossibly tighter around her torso.

No words are spoken between the two lovers.  No words are necessary, really.  They just hold one another, the sound of the crashing waves mirroring their own inner turmoil as they hold one another and cry-- unabashedly and unfiltered.  

It feels good, in a strange therapeutic sort of way, to be like this.  To be crying this hard together, completely vulnerable both physically and emotionally, and as hard as it is to grasp that these are their last memories together, it lifts the tiniest bit of weight off of both of their hearts.

They aren’t sure how long they’ve been sitting like this when Roni finally makes an effort to move, her sobs quieted now to a few little gasps here and there.  Harry instantly misses her warmth the second she lifts off of him, and he reaches for her hand like a little boy.

Roni smiles sadly at him, giggling and offering him a pathetic shrug as if to say, “well, anyway.” She gives his hand a squeeze, running her thumb along the back of it.  Her chest flutters as she takes a breath.  

“You promise to try and find me?”  She doesn’t anticipate her voice coming out as hoarse and as sad as it does.

Harry hates how final this feels, and he shivers-- partly from the cold, but mostly because his body is exhausted from how hard he’s been weeping and how devastated he’s been all day.  Seeing Roni like this, looking at him as if he’s her only hope in the world right now, absolutely crushes him.

Truth be told, he’s not feeling optimistic about being able to find her.  And if Roni’s honest, neither is she.  But the prospect of reuniting some day, sooner rather than later, seems to be the last string of hope that the two can hold on to together.  So for both of their sakes, they know they have to put on brave faces.  

Harry raises their clasped hands to his lips, and kisses each one of Roni’s knuckles individually-- taking extra care around the mood ring on her finger.  She bites her lip, and Harry knows another wave of tears is incoming.  He offers her his best smile, as optimistic as he can be, and speaks.

“I promise, sweet girl.  I promise.”

---

Harry wakes hours later from a restless and uncomfortable sleep when he feels a stirring beside him. He flutters his lashes open and remembers, all too quickly, the reason he’s here.

Roni sits up, stiff and dazed beside him, staring unwaveringly at the ocean with confused eyes.  Harry’s heart sinks to the pit of his stomach as he realizes the inevitable— this is it.

He reaches forward to gently touch her arm but quickly decides against it, not wanting to ruin her one chance at getting home.  He instead watches her with bated breath, waiting to see what she does.

“Veronica,” he whispers. “You alright, honey?”

She doesn’t respond. In fact, she doesn’t even look at him.  She digs her hand into the blanket beneath them to help prop herself up and onto her feet.  Harry moves with her, prepared to catch her when she stumbles a bit.  He watches her intently, wondering what she’s going to do.  

“Darling,” he says slowly, “Veronica… hey—“

She takes a slow step forward, hesitates, then takes another. And another. And then she’s walking towards the freezing cold waves lapping up against the shore.  Harry panics. Is this how this is supposed to go?

“Veronica wait!” He speaks more urgently this time, stepping quickly to follow behind her. “Hey, wait a second, honey—”

Roni stumbles, almost in a drunken state not much different from the first time Harry ever saw her.  She really is going, and he knows he shouldn’t stop her.  But the waves seem violent, and it makes him more anxious than he already is.

“Veronica,” Harry chokes out, realizing now that he’s crying. “Honey, no, no, don’t go-- not like this… not yet… I’m-I’m not--”

“Let her go,” comes a voice, gentle and melodic behind Harry.

He turns around, no longer trying to conceal the tears in his eyes, and is shocked to see Violet, the mysterious and mystical fortune teller, standing there. Despite the cold, all she has wrapped around her dress is a shawl, and she doesn’t even seem fazed.

“She will be okay,” Violet continues, taking a gentle step towards him. “You have to let her go.”

“She’ll drown.” It’s the only thing Harry can think to say, but it’s not what he wants to say at all. He doesn’t really know what he wants to say at all, actually. His thoughts are running a mile a minute and his heart is aching.

Violet smiles knowingly at him. “She will not drown,” she says. “She will go peacefully back to where she belongs.”

Harry sniffs, a salty tear rolling down his cheek and getting caught in the corner of his mouth. “You promise?” He sounds pathetic, his voice thick and cracking, but he doesn’t even care.

Violet nods. “You have my word.”

Harry glances back towards Roni, who is slowly making her way further into the water. His stomach is in knots. All he wants is to run to her. Has he said everything he needed to say? He’s told her how much he loves her, but does she really know? Has he wasted his last day with her?

As if reading his mind, Violet closes the space between the two of them. She raises a comforting and gentle hand to his back, and he turns slowly back to her.  “You did everything necessary.” She speaks quietly, looking straight into Harry’s eyes. “You gave her exactly what she needed.  She will never forget you as long as she lives.”

Harry’s tears are flowing freely now, and his face is hot. The blanket previously wrapped around him is long forgotten on the sandy shore, but it doesn’t even matter.  He welcomes the cold bitterly, and shakes his head as he watches Roni wade into the sea.  

“What are you even doing here?” He asks, sounding a bit more angry than intended.  “Hm?  Have you been watching us?”

Violet remains calm, despite his accusations.  “I just figured you might need someone here with you when the time came.”  She takes a deep breath.  “And I wanted to see the girl off. I’ve taken a liking to her as well.”  

The two watch Roni stumble deeper into the ocean, completely unaware of her own actions.  Violet hums, low in her throat.  “To answer your question though, no.  I wasn’t watching you.  I just got here.”

“How did you know we’d be here then?  And when?”  Harry glances back at Roni, who is now up to her waist. She must be freezing, and Harry wants nothing more than to go to her and stop her.

“Was I not the one who told you to do this?”  A bitter wind whips through Violet’s hair as she turns to face the sea as well. “I knew I would come up on you two eventually. Besides, this is the exact moment the moon is at her fullest. Of course Roni is going right now.”

Harry let’s out a pathetic and completely unintentional sob, his emotions getting the better of him as a panic attack rises in his stomach. “Fuck,” he says, then with growing intensity, “Fuck!” He kicks the sand, ignoring the resistance it gives him, then turns desperately back to Violet. “Does she know I love her? Does she know—“ He can’t catch his breath, and voice is loud. “Does she know I’m here watching her go? Jesus, I can’t—can’t do this, I- I mean I didn’t think it would be this fucking hard, Violet. Can I stop her? Fucking hell, can I stop her?!”

Violet takes a step towards Harry, who’s jaw is now trembling in synchronicity with his shaking hands. She puts a reassuring and calm hand on his shoulder. “It’s over, Harry,” she says. “You must let her go.”

Harry reaches up, running a hand through his sweaty, messy hair, glancing frantically from Roni—who is in the water up to her mid back now— back to Violet, who now seems worried about him. He lets out a wail, moving like he’s going to run to Roni, but Violet is quicker; wrapping her arms around him and holding him back.

He struggles against her a bit, eventually falling to his knees in the sand. Violet drops with him, gently holding him securely upright while comfortingly scratching at his back.  She keeps a watchful eye on Roni; as does Harry, only his vision is nearly completely blurred.   He wails, punching a little mound of sand beside his knees and using his free hand to wipe at his eyes.  “Goddammit,” he mutters.  “Fucking goddammit.  This was a mistake.”

“Harry,” Violet says urgently, sounding more human than she has in the entirety of the time Harry has known her.  “Listen to me, it wasn’t a mistake.  I need you to breathe.”

He looks at Violet desperately, shaking his head. “I should have begged her.  I could have made her stay.  I fucking could have made her stay, Violet.  I shouldn’t--”  He gasps for air between sobs, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand.  “Fuck, I shouldn’t have let her go.”

“Yes you should have,” Violet reassures him.  “This is the right thing.  Think of her mother.  Think of her life.”

Harry watches Roni, who is in past her neck now, and he tries to swallow down his panic.  He watches her sink further and further, knowing in his logical mind that she’s completely safe.  He blinks a few tears out of his eyes, his sweaty hair on his forward moving back and forth with each attempt to catch his breath, and then turns to Violet.   “I love her, Violet.” His voice is desperate and pathetic, and he hates himself for it.

Violet looks as though even she herself, in all her powerful glory, wants to cry as well.  She nods,  wiping a tear that has made its way down to Harry’s chin.  “I know you do,” she says softly.  “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

The two friends turn back to the sea, and Harry feels a sinking finality when he realizes he can no longer see Roni’s head.  His breathing slows just a tick, and he lets out a shaky breath— realizing for the first time that it’s coming out in a hot cloud around his mouth. “Is she gone?” He asks quietly.

He doesn’t wait for an answer. He knows the answer.  His head falls, chin to chest, and he holds his face in his hands.

Violet says nothing, she only holds Harry in his desperation, breathing against him to try and subtly slow his breathing and calm him down.  His sobs are heartbreaking, but they’re quieter now; less frantic. He cries until his throat feels thick and raw, and then it becomes somewhat silent.  He isn’t sure how long he’s been there, and he almost starts to feel bad for Violet, who just sits there with him, patient as ever.

She doesn’t seem to mind, of course, she just rubs her hand up and down his back and holds him in the most comforting way she can manage.  

After what feels like ages, he raises his hot, wet face to look at her. Her face is sad, but comforting.  She offers him a faint, sympathetic smile.  

“Will you help me?” Harry asks.

Violet cocks her head to the side. “Help you with what, Harry?”

“Look for her. Find a way. I don’t know.”

Violet’s face changes as she considers what he’s asking, taking in a deep breath and taking her time with her answer. She glances out at the ocean, which has somehow grown impossibly more calm since Roni’s disappearance. Finally, after a moment, she hums.

“You have to be prepared for any outcome, Harry.” She speaks sternly, as if to a child. “You don’t know if you have the gift—“

“I have to try.” He cuts her off, shaking his head and speaking through a throat that feels thick and raw. “I have to try.”

Violet scans his face, blinking slowly as she considers what he’s saying. “And are you prepared for what would happen should you fail?”

“I don’t care about that,” he says quickly.  “I don’t care. Because what happens if I’m successful? What if I do have the gift? Hm?  Then what?”

“I don’t believe it’s that simple, Harry.” Violet sighs. “I don’t get the sense that you have it.”

“But I have to try.” Harry emphasizes his words. “And if you won’t help me, then I’ll find a way myself.”

He rises to his feet and faces the sea, already beginning unbuttoning his shirt as if he’s about to undress and follow his darling Roni.  Violet stands just as quickly, making her way over to him.

“Harry, Harry!” she says quickly, reaching forward to stop him.  “Stop.”

He turns to Violet, and it’s the first time she notices how puffy his eyes are.  She sees how determined he is, how absolutely heartbroken, and it hurts her own heart.   She’s never been in love, although she’s helped many people who have been.  She does understand connections like this, and although she unfortunately doesn’t get the sense that Harry is someone equipped with the gift of time travel, she knows he’s not going to give up any time soon.  Not until he knows for sure.

So she sighs.

“I’ll help you,” she says.  “But it’s going to take work.”  She rubs his arm comfortingly.  “And time.  You can’t go right now.”

“But I can go?  Eventually?”  He looks at her with hope in his eyes, reminiscent of a small child, and it makes Violet feel for him even more.

“I can’t promise you that,” she says.  “I wish I could.”

Harry looks out at the sea, one last time, then wraps Violet in his arms.  It’s the first time all evening he’s reciprocated her comforting embrace, and he can feel her smile as she hugs him back.

Violet isn’t sure how long she holds him, and she knows he’s still crying by the way his back trembles every now and again.  When he finally pulls away, it’s with a thankful smile.  He groans and laughs at himself, reaching up to wipe at his eyes.  “Sorry,” he giggles, “must look a mess.”

“You look fine, darling.”  Violet gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before nodding her head towards the setup previously used by him and Roni.  “Come along, then. I’ll help you get this cleaned up so you can get home and get yourself a proper night’s sleep.”

---------------

There’s a buzzing in Roni’s ears, and her hands feel as though they’re vibrating.  It comes after an intense, icy feeling in her veins, coursing throughout her entire being then fading all at once.  She feels out of breath, but her heart is pounding slower than usual.

She’s somewhere between sleep and consciousness, and she recognizes this feeling in the back of her mind. The blackness behind her eyes somehow grows brighter and brighter with each passing second, as colorful memories flash far too quickly for her to make them out individually.  At one moment, she’s a child again.  At another, she’s at her mother’s funeral.  And at another still, she’s graduating high school, waving out to her grandparents and Oliver in the front row. These specific instances don’t evoke any strong feelings in her one way or another, yet somewhere inside they stir something up.  

A vision of herself, as an old woman, flashes behind her eyes, and although in her logical brain she knows that she isn’t old yet, she feels as though she’s lived that moment every second of every day.

The memories get brighter and brighter, buzzing loudly in her ear, and her body feels detached from her soul as she’s suddenly surrounded by nothing but white light.  

Roni isn’t even sure when she’s opened her eyes, but all of her thoughts have quieted instantly.  There is absolutely nothing surrounding her except white. She is completely alone, but it isn’t frightening by any means.  In fact it feels rather peaceful. She presses forward, taking a step towards nothing in particular, and her legs feeling strangely weak as they carry her on.

Her heart feels heavy in her chest as she walks, beginning to regain a sense of consciousness while remaining absolutely at peace.  She remembers that she’s traveling through time, yes, but why? Where is she going?

Your mind accepts this absolutely.  It is 9:30am on June 16th, 1985.  You have travelled back in time.  Soon, you will open your eyes---

A voice that sounds familiar to her-- is it her own?-- catches her attention, and a memory comes to her mind like an electric shock.  June 16th, 1985… what’s significant about that?

-into the hallway of the home you share with your mother, Tanya Rachel Elliot, and you will walk downstairs to find her cooking-

She smells something, distant and faint, but it isn’t the blueberry pancakes she hears the voice describing.  Instead, it smells like… a house? A bedroom she’s familiar with. Who’s bedroom?

It comes to her quickly, her mind filling with images of Oliver, her boyfriend, at a New Year’s Eve party.  The voice— her own voice— states that it’s 1985.  Her conscious mind knows that it’s almost 2000.

Like a slap to the face, Roni remembers Harry.  She remembers the first night she met him, when she was cold and disoriented in the streets of New York.  She remembers falling in love with him, quicker than anything she’s ever experienced, and then her heart aches at the memory of leaving him. Knowing why she’s here, and how she’s going back to the modern world.

“Roni,” she hears a voice in the distance, soft and feminine and familiar, and Roni turns on her heel in her dreamlike state. She doesn’t see anyone, but she knows she recognizes that voice.  

“Veronica,” it comes again, and Roni blinks in the bright light trying to find the source.  Her mind is foggy, but she knows the voice. She knows she does, but she can’t quite put her finger on it.

“Veronica, darling.”

Through the fog in her eyes, she makes out a figure— far, far away, but moving towards her somewhat quickly.  It’s a familiar outline, even if she can’t see the details of the person’s face.  The closer she gets she realizes it’s a woman, and Roni tries to blink her eyes into some clarity.

The closer the woman gets, the more things start to make sense in Roni’s brain.  The woman steps into focus, and it hits Roni like a ton of bricks.

“Mom?”  She whispers, afraid that if she speaks any louder she’ll ruin any type of illusion.

The woman-- her mother-- nods gently as she comes into clear view, now only a few mere feet away from her.  “It’s me, baby.”

Roni takes a moment, hardly daring to move until she can’t take it any longer.  She lunges, awkwardly, running to close the gap between them and falling ungracefully into her mother’s arms.

This moment is one that she’s imagined so many times before in her life, yet she never could have dreamt how good it would feel.  Her mother wraps her arms around Roni tightly, kissing her head, as Roni bawls like a baby.

“Is it really you?” Roni asks.  “Are you really here?”

“I’m here, my sweet girl.  I’m right here.”

Roni hardly hears her mother’s words, she just wraps her arms impossibly tighter around the older woman, as if scared that she’ll slip right from her fingers without warning.  “Mom,” she sobs, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Oh, baby,” Tanya coos.  “I’m with you every day.”

Tanya pulls away slightly, despite Roni’s tugging at her, and wipes Roni’s eyes with her thumbs.  “Don’t cry, my love.”

Roni lets out a wet laugh, reaching up to wipe at her snotty nose with the back of her hand.  She hasn’t seen her mother in fifteen years, and she knows she must look an absolute mess right now.  “Sorry,” she says,  “I’m just… I can’t believe it’s you.”

“I know, Peanut.”  Tanya smiles a smile that is so absurdly kind; a smile that Roni loved being on the receiving end of throughout her entire childhood.  “It feels so wonderful to hold you in my arms again.”

Tanya was never a crier, so Roni suspects she won’t be now in the afterlife either.  Still, the look on her face tells Roni all that she needs to know, and it’s beautiful. Roni sighs, leaning into Tanya’s hold on her face and staring at her mother eagerly, as if one blink will send her vanishing away again.  She reaches up to place her hand on top of her mothers, and notices Tanya’s attention briefly shift.

Tanya squints, then laughs-- a surprised, tinkling sort of noise-- as she removes her hand from Roni’s face.  She takes Roni’s hand in her own then and thumbs at the mood ring on her finger.  “You’ve kept my ring!”

“Of course!” Roni feels like an overly excitable little girl again, who’s about to overshare about today’s lesson after school.  “Of course I did!”

“It’s pink,” Tanya observes. She smiles warmly. “It was always pink with you.”

“It was mostly pink when I was around you,” Roni says.  “Oh god, mom, I have so much to tell you.”

Tanya smiles knowingly.  “Tell me. I’m all ears.”

“I don’t even know where to begin,” Roni says, through a wet and tearful laugh.  “I guess… I mean, first of all, where the hell am I?”

“Where do you think you are?” Tanya’s eyes sparkle mischievously, but her words only make Roni panic slightly.  

“Am I… dead?”

Tanya giggles. “No, my love. You aren’t dead.  You’re in the between.”

“The…. between?”

“You have been here before,” Tanya explains. “Between timelines.  Between time itself.  You passed through here when you first traveled back. Of course, you weren’t quite sure of what you were doing, so it may be a blur in your memory.”

Roni tries her hardest to think back to the night she arrived with Harry.  It is a blur, but it comes back to her faintly. Lots of stumbling, lots of white light.

She cocks her head to the side. “Were you there that night?  Or… I guess, here?”

“I was,” Tanya says, nodding. “I watched you. I tried to reach out, but whatever it was that was calling to you— a soul tie, a connection, whatever— was much stronger than I. So I did my best to just guide you to it.”

“Oh.”  Roni processes her mother’s words, marveling at the fact that her twin flame connection with Harry had been that strong that she hadn’t even been able to stop here and speak to her mother.  “I see.”

Tanya smiles that ever knowing smile. “Tell me about them,” she says softly.

“What?”

“The person. Your calling.” Tanya takes Roni’s hand in her own. “They must have done a number on you, baby.”

Roni sighs, unsure of where to even begin, but instantly feeling touched just by looking at her mother’s sweet face. She wants to start crying again, but she refuses to let herself.  Her mother stays patient, not pressuring Roni to speak until she’s ready.

And with a deep breath, she launches right into it.

She tells her mother everything; about how she was trying to go back in time to save her, about how Harry had saved her that night, about how she tried to stay strong but ended up falling head over heels for him.  It’s difficult recounting everything, especially because it feels so fresh in her own mind, and as hard as she’s working to conceal her tears, she can’t stop them from falling down her cheeks.

And Tanya only listens.  Kind and understanding, Tanya listens.  She doesn’t interrupt, she only nods every now and then, giving Roni the most sympathetic eyes in the world.

Roni laughs, cries, and every emotion in between as she tells her mother the entire story.  And at the end of it, her mother wraps her in a comforting embrace while she tries to get her tears under control.  

“My sweet girl,” Tanya coos, scratching Roni’s back comfortingly.  “My sweet, brave girl.”

When Roni pulls away, confusion clouds her features. She searches her mother’s face for a wordless answer to a question  she has yet to ask.

“Mom?” She says through a shaky breath, “Am I… I mean, did I do the right thing?”

Tanya brushes Roni’s hair off of her face, coming through it lovingly with her fingers. “Do you think you did?”

Roni groans.  “God, you sound just like him. I just want to know if I made the right decision, but I have no way of gauging that, you know?  Like how do I know?”

Tanya laughs.  “To tell you the truth, my love, I really think you did. In fact, I can promise that you did.”

“But... Harry…” Roni trails off in a sigh. “I just want to know that he’ll be okay. You know?”

Tanya nods understandingly. “I know.”

“So is there… I don’t know, like, a way? For you to watch over him? I don’t know how the afterlife works.”

Tanya giggles at Roni’s words. “I’ll check in on him, sweetheart. If that’s what you want.”

“And can you—“ Roni sniffs, willing herself not to start sobbing again. “Can you tell him I love him?”

“You love him?” It isn’t accusatory, and her tone isn’t really all that shocked either. It’s a simple question, but Roni’s insides flip.

“I do,” she says decidedly. “So, so much.”

Tanya’s next question takes Roni by surprise. “And Oliver?”

“You know about Oliver? I didn’t start dating him until after you—“

“I know,” Tanya says calmly. “I’m with you always.”

“Oh.” Roni blows a puff of air out from her lips, reaching up to fidget with her hair. “Well. I love Oliver, but it’s not… I mean…. Harry is…” She trails off, looking helplessly at her mother, as if Tanya will be able to fill in the blanks.

Tanya only smiles. “Your twin flame. I know.”

Roni laughs in disbelief.  “It’s weird, huh?”  She asks. “How does that even happen?”

“How could you possibly travel back to 1925?” Tanya laughs. “Some things are not meant for us to understand, my darling.”  She gives Roni’s shoulder a playful squeeze before continuing. “Anyway.  I like Oliver.  He’s a good kid.  He takes good care of you.  But Harry,” she smiles knowingly,  “Harry set your soul on fire. This I know for sure.”

“I can’t help but feel like I did the wrong thing,” Roni sighs. “Even though I know I didn’t. I jst couldn’t erase you, you know? And everyone back home that I love—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself.  Not to me.  You did the right thing.”

Roni sighs, eyes scanning the great white abyss surrounding them as she tries to figure out what on earth to say.  “So now what?” She tries after a moment. “Where do I even go from here?”

“Back home,” Tanya says, a comforting hand trailing up Roni’s arm. “To live a long and full life. To grow old, and to have children of your own.  To stop living in the past.”  The last bit is said more pointedly, and Roni blinks through her misty eyes back at her mother.

“I’m not—“

“Veronica,” Tanya says slowly, “darling, look at all you’ve had. My god, look at all you’ve done.”

“I would trade it all to have you back, mom.”  Roni reaches for her mother’s hand and  squeezes. “All of it. Every bit.”

Tanya smiles.  “I know, sweetheart.  I know. But I am gone.  You have done everything you could have done to bring me back.  It was not in fate's design.”

Roni shakes her head, not wanting to believe her mother’s words but knowing she’s right. “But where do I go?” she repeats, quieter this time.

Tanya takes a big deep breath in through her nose.  “I told you.  You must go on and do even more incredible things with your life.”  She laughs softly through her nose, and if Roni had blinked she’d have missed the moisture forming in her mother’s eyes.  “I am so, so proud of who you are, Veronica.”

“I don’t want to go on without you, mom.”

“You will never have to.  You never have before.  I’m always going to be with you.”

“But now I have to like… go into the world again.  The modern world, I mean.  Knowing that I’ve seen you again, and that I’ve been in love.  Real actual love.  How can I just... go back?”

“You don’t have to go back, sweetheart.  Not like that.  You don’t have to be stuck.  Life is far too short to be living it in a way that doesn’t make you happy.  Do you understand?  Do not let it pass you by.”

“But… but you-- and Harry--”

“Stop living in the past, Peanut. Worrying, and not allowing yourself to move forward, will never add any years to your life.  It didn’t mine.”

Roni’s shoulders visibly soften, and she blinks up at her mother.  She wants to take in all of her mothers advice, but mostly she just wants to drink in as much of her mother’s presence as possible.  “I love you, mom.”

“I love you too, Veronica. More than you know.”

In the distance, Roni begins to hear a soft commotion.  She looks around, trying to figure out where on earth the noise could be coming from (considering that there is nothing around her except for a great white nothingness).  It starts out dull, a faint buzzing that gradually grows louder.  She turns back to her mother, only to be met with a sad smile.

“Our time is almost up here,” Tanya explains, and Roni’s heart begins to swell with panic.

“What? No, I’m not ready—“

“You are ready, dear. You are as ready as you’ll ever be.”

The commotion grows louder, and Roni shakes her head. “But I don’t know what to do!”

“Yes you do.” Tanya nods. “You always have.”  She reaches forward and wraps Roni into a tight hug, giving her a squeeze and pressing her lips to her head. “Remember what I told you. I’ll always be with you. So will he.”

“I don’t know what to do!” Roni wails again, her puffy eyes aching with pressure as more tears begin flowing. “I don’t know where to go!”

“The answers will come,” Tanya says, pulling away from Roni slowly. “What is meant to be will be.  Some things you cannot change, but what is meant to be will always find a way.”

“Why weren’t you meant to stay with me then?” Roni cries, beginning to struggle to be heard over the buzzing noise of an invisible crowd. “To watch me grow up? To help me through life? Why did you have to go?”

“Everything has a reason,” Tanya says, stepping backwards from Roni. “Some reasons, we are never meant to know.”

“Mom—“

“I love you, Peanut.” Tanya continues to step backwards from Roni, and Roni tries to lunge for her. Her legs, however, feel like molasses, as if she’s suddenly dreaming and she can’t seem to move fast enough to where she needs to be.

“Don’t go yet!” Roni calls. “I’m not ready!”

“You are ready.”  Roni can barely hear her mother now, and it seems that the further she steps away from her, the louder the buzzing becomes. “Don’t forget what I’ve told you.”

“But mom—“

In a flash, Tanya seems as far away as she can possibly get.  Roni panics, turning around as quickly as her legs will let her, in search for some kind of answer. A door, perhaps, or at least the source of the deafening noise she’s hearing.

She calls for her mother, feeling desperately like a child who’s lost in a supermarket. She feels hot tears rolling down her face, and she defiantly wipes them away with the back of her wrist.

“Mom!”

The noise is ringing in Roni’s ears now, and her body feels fuzzy and foreign as she looks for an answer. She raises her palms to her ears to try and drown the noise out, but she can’t— it’s too deep within her head.  “Fuck,” she cries, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Veronica,” comes her mother’s voice, as clear in her head as if it were her own consciousness. “Darling.”

Roni’s chest grows heavy as she wills the noise to stop, please; and all the while images of Harry flash in her head.  Her mother’s voice comes again, and is the last thing she hears before everything goes completely black.

“Open your eyes.”

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

Sweet Victory (Good Omens Fic)

On April 21, 2021 - Aethelflaed and Elf-on-the-Shelf met in frantic Discord Sprint Competition. The goal: be the first in the DIWS Discord server to reach Level 1000. The reward: the coveted title of Spront Lord. In our final sprint, we chose the shared prompt of "Sweet Victory." My results follow...and can also be found on AO3

--

“Ready?” Aziraphale said, resting primly against the kitchen wall.

Crowley, meanwhile, crouched, braced himself to charge forward.

“Go!” the demon shouted.

They dashed to the kitchen counter, where two sets of equipment and ingredients sat waiting, and began sorting through them as fast as possible.

Crowley had seen his angel cook before. Aziraphale took great delight in following every recipe to the letter, selecting only the finest ingredients, measuring each precisely, scraping a knife across the top of each cup to ensure not a single extra grain of sugar was added.

Crowley’s own methods were more…Crowley-esque.

He tore open each bag and container, scooping out the flour and dumping it into the bowl. Half of it wound up around the bowl, but that’s why he used big scoops. Sugar by the fistful, salt one pinch at a time. Butter. Milk. Cocoa powder. Everything that he needed to create the perfect cake.

The electric mixer screamed along at its top speed, brown dust flying in every direction, batter spattering up his shirt and across the wall. Four different eggs smashed on the floor, and he swept them aside with his foot.

The oven was pre-set to the correct temperature, but there would barely be room for two pans. The one who completed his mix first would get the coveted spot in the middle of the oven; the other would have to make do with another rack.

Crowley dumped the batter into the cake pan and slid it into place, slamming the oven shut while Aziraphale was still carefully counting the strokes of his spoon.

“Ha!” he crowed, leaning against the oven, then quickly danced away. “Ow, ow, ow, door hot.”

“Yes, dear,” Aziraphale said placidly. His pacing hadn’t altered, steady as a metronome.

He carefully measured and poured his batter into two small pans and placed his cakes in on the lower shelf, setting an egg timer down in his counter space.

Crowley, on the other hand, knelt and watched through the window, a trick he’d learned from Bake Off. The cake cooked quickly, puffing up just a little. When it looked done-ish, he snatched it out.

They had made the icing the previous night, though failed to agree that Crowley had definitely won that one. He snatched it out of the refrigerator now, and started slathering it atop the cake, thick as he could. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow at him and glanced at his timer, but continued waiting with patience that was rarely reserved for non-food-related activities.

The timer dinged, and Aziraphale pulled his cake pans out of the oven as Crowley put the finishing touches on his own: showering it with three different kinds of sprinkles. He folded his arms and gave the angel his smuggest grin.

Aziraphale’s cake cooled, and Crowley’s began to drip.

First the icing…melted off the cake, turning back into a runny glaze. He attacked it with spoon and knife, trying to pile it all on top where it belonged, but it was no good—now the cake began to crumble, sections breaking off, collapsing inward.

By the time Aziraphale finished his, glancing at the clock with a little bastard smile, Crowley’s had been reduced to a pile of chocolate crumbs mashed up in icing.

“You have another minute,” Aziraphale said. “if you think you have a plan.”

“I always have a plan.” Crowley scraped his cake into a clean bowl, mashed and stirred frantically with a fork, and looked up just as the clock struck noon. “S’pudding,” he explained with a grin.

“I…suppose…” Aziraphale looked skeptically at the mess. “I suppose I should taste yours first.”

“Yeah. Because I won. Sweet victory!”

“We were racing for the oven, yes, but we agreed victory would go to the best dessert, not the fastest.”

“Same difference.”

Aziraphale frowned, dipping first a fork and then—when that didn’t seem to work—a spoon into Crowley’s pudding. He lifted the bite, sniffed it, and popped it in his mouth.

Then promptly spat it into the sink.

“Darling,” he said with immense patience. “Did you mix up the sugar and the salt again?”

“No!” Crowley looked at the counter where he’d worked, white powder covering every surface. “Possibly.” He scraped his finger through the pudding and licked it with a forked tongue, then gagged. “Yes.”

Aziraphale smiled, cutting off a small section of two-layer cake, buttercream evenly spread with a whimsical pattern drawn in dark red piping. He lifted the forkful to his mouth and took a delicate bite. “Perfection” he said, licking his lips. “Absolutely delectable.”

“How do I know?” Crowley scowled, reaching grab a handful, though Aziraphale batted his arm away. “It isn’t fair if I can’t at least taste it.”

“Of course.” Aziraphale cut off another forkful and offered the bite. Crowley leaned forward to take it, but the angel pulled it back and popped it in his own mouth.

“Oi! How am I—”

Aziraphale pulled his husband into a kiss, a warm, chocolate-flavored kiss.

Defeat had never tasted so sweet.

--

Thank you for reading! Yes, this WAS all written in a single 20 minute sprint...except for the last few sentences, because I ran out of time...and also all the edits.

Regardless, the results of Elf's and my competition was: we both passed Level 1000 after this sprint! But Elf had enough bonus points to get up to Level 1001. So we both got the title of Spront Lord, but she technically did slightly better.

SLIGHTLY.

[chelsfic]

Leftovers - Part 8 - Nandor the Relentless x Reader Fanfic

Previous parts: Masterlist

Summary: The night of the vampire orgy arrives and brings with it a boat load of angst!

A/N: I decided to just run with it and let my angst flag fly. Bon appetit!

Warnings: Female reader, Angst, dumbassery, idiots in love, infidelity I guess

---

The cameraman steps up to the barred window of the cell and points his lens inside. You’re curled up with Guillermo on a hastily installed couch, leaning into one another for warmth in the cold, damp room. A mouse scurries across the floor and something drips from the ceiling over your heads.

“You don’t think they forgot about us, do you?” you ask, trepidation clear in your voice. You tug the sleeves of your sweatshirt down to cover your frozen hands and press yourself further into his body for warmth.

Guillermo glances at the camera with a wince as he lies, “No. I’m sure they didn’t forget us.”

---

Earlier in the evening:

“The last orgy was a bit of a disaster and I never got to use it…”

Nandor stands in the middle of his room, doing a twirl for the camera to show off his outfit. Chains and leather straps crisscross his bare chest, and his waist and legs are studded with protruding dildos of varying sizes. 

“Life of the orgy!” he gushes.

There’s a beat of silence that follows and then a muted question from the documentary crew, “And will...[unintelligible]...be participating in the orgy?”

Nandor avoids answering, looking away from the camera and baring his fangs in a nervous smile.

---

Guillermo’s lying across your bed, absently scrolling on his phone while you dig through your closet, holding up and rejecting piece after piece. Your “style,” if you could call it that, consists almost entirely of work out clothes, derby merch and the odd sundress for special occasions. Not exactly ripe pickings for a vampire orgy ensemble. But you know you still have that pair of fishnets from when you first joined the league and you figure you can build a look around them.

“So, you’re not gonna wear the t-shirt?” Guillermo grins, rolling onto his side and showing off the highly fashionable “Do Not Eat” shirt.

“Nandor will protect me,” you reply automatically, your voice is muffled from the back of the closet. “I just moved in! How can it be such a disaster already?”

Guillermo gets up and comes over to lean on the door frame of the closet as he cautiously warns, “Uh...okay, but...Nandor isn’t--um--he’s not known for being very reliable in social situations…”

Guillermo’s mind flashes back to the time at Simon the Devious’s club, when Nandor would have gladly handed him over to a strange vampire just to avoid confrontation. Still, his loyalty tugs at him and he adds, “I mean, his heart is in the right place...most of the time. But he just gets so excited and he has this need to impress when he’s around other vampires.”

You back out of the closet, clutching the rogue fishnets victoriously in your hands and looking back at Guillermo quizzically, “I know he can be flakey, Guillermo. But...he loves me.”

You recall the words falling from his lips that night...my love...and an irresistible smile forms on your lips.

Guillermo stares at you, gobsmacked, for a moment before replying, “Alright, Smash. But...are you sure you even want to go? I mean--and don’t be offended--you lost your virginity like a minute ago and now you’re going to an orgy?”

Heat spreads across your face and you look pointedly away from your friend. You walk over to the bed and pick up the little card from your nightstand, smiling down at it and tracing your fingers over the glittery letters. After a minute you finally answer, “It’s not--I mean, I’m not going to...do anything with anyone else. I just have to be there because…”

Because you’re afraid your boyfriend is going to have insane vampire sex with strangers if you don’t keep an eye on him… Because you’re too chicken to actually talk with him about it… Because what if he thinks you’re silly and stupid and decides being with a human is just as boring as he always assumed?

Guillermo reads your thoughts on your face and he croons, “Oh, honey. Listen, I was here for the last orgy. And, even though it never really got going… Smash, it’s not something for the faint of heart.”

“I’m not faint of heart!” you insist, your voice pitched up in indignation.

“No!” Guillermo agrees, moving to sit beside you on the bed. “No, you’re not. You’re in love with an immortal blood-sucking fiend who has centuries of experience on you, though. And you’re very, very new to...all of this. I don’t want to see you get hurt. You should talk to him.”

You can tell from his tone that Guillermo isn’t optimistic about the likelihood of Nandor understanding your human worries and actually changing his ingrained behavior in response. But you know he’s right, you should still talk to him.

---

You find Nandor in his room, making a few last minute adjustments to his attire. As soon as you set eyes on him you stop in your tracks, making an involuntary choking sound as you take in the ridiculous number of enormous dildos strapped to his body.

Nandor looks up as you enter and he puffs out his chest, stalking toward you with his arms held up and his mouth open in a menacing hiss.

“What do you think, my mortal? Do you want to run in fear...or do you want to come?”

You can’t think of a single thing to say to that. All that’s running through your head as you stare, transfixed, at Nandor’s ridiculous costume, is that he clearly hasn’t planned this with his freshly deflowered lover in mind.

You finally clear your throat nervously and mutter, “That’s what you’re planning to wear?”

You look down at your PJ pants and hoodie, feeling suddenly, painfully ordinary. How could you have ever thought you were a match for someone as intense, seductive and dangerous as Nandor the Relentless?

Nandor misses your reaction and enthuses, “Isn’t it great? If I position myself just right--” he drops into a squat-- “I can accommodate two astride each knee and hip while still having room at my pelvis…”

He starts thrusting into the air lewdly and you hold out your hands to stop him.

“Nandor,” you’re at a loss for words, feeling a hollow ache in your chest already anticipating the hurt to come. “I thought now that we’re...an item...you might want it to just be you and me, tonight.” And forever.

Nandor stops mid-thrust with a quizzical expression, “At an orgy?”

“Well…” how to explain your seemingly very human sensibilities on monogamy. “You said you love me, right?”

Nandor rises and comes toward you, looming over your smaller frame and taking your shoulders in his large hands as he answers, “Yes, my sweet mortal. But what does that have to do with the vampire orgy? Didn’t Nadja explain to you--?”

“Yes, yes!” you interrupt, frustrated. “But I don’t want you to...have sex with anyone else! Not while we’re…”

The cameraman bumps into a heavy lamp by the door, momentarily drawing Nandor’s attention. Suddenly feeling the weight of expectation on his shoulders, Nandor bristles and straightens his shoulders as he answers your concern.

“But you are my human,” he says, slowly as if he’s explaining to a child. “I am not your vampire.”

You close your eyes for a second, holding a hand to your chest as if you can somehow stop the damage happening inside. You really didn’t think he could hurt you so much with just a few words.

Desperately you try one last approach, “But...if you’re going to be busy having crazy, acrobatic sex with all these strange vampires...how are you going to protect me? Or do you think Nadja’s t-shirt is really going to stop someone who’s determined?”

“Ahhh!” Nandor cries with a relieved smile. “That’s your worry! Well, fear not, my human. I have worked out the perfect arrangement to keep both you and Guillermo safe for the evening.”

---

Nandor, wearing a heavy, fur-lined robe over his sex gear, leads you and Guillermo down the narrow staircase into the basement. You haven’t been down here since your first night in the house, when Nandor locked you up in the cell to save for later. Though it’s late April, there’s snow on the ground outside and a chill in the air. As you descend the steps the temperature drops even more. But you hardly notice in your effort to keep yourself from falling apart after your disastrous discussion with Nandor. Your eyes are trained on the broad expanse of his back, as if you can somehow will him to turn around and really see how much you’re hurting. Guillermo takes your hand in his and gives it a squeeze. 

“Here we are!” Nandor announces, stopping in front of the human cell with a grandiose sweep of his arm. “I’ve made it nice and cozy for you. You’ll be locked up safe and sound, so no wandering vampires can get you. And I’ll come down and let you out before dawn.”

You glance skeptically inside and see that one of the couches from the library has been moved down here for your comfort. Other than that it’s still the same damp, dark, depressing cell you remember.

“Nandor, this is...extreme,” you complain, looking up to meet his eyes for the first time since you left his room after he said those harsh words. You see his gaze flicker as he takes in your red-rimmed, tear-misted eyes, but his expression is inscrutable.

“I agree, master. We could just stay upstairs in Smash’s room…”

“Silence, Guillermo!” he hisses, not taking his eyes off of you. He reaches up to cup your face in his hands and his expression softens. “This is the safest place for you to be. Only I have the key to the cell. You will be...protected.”

“I don’t care about being protected!” you cry. “I just want--”

“Enough! My word is final on this!” Nandor cuts you off and his tone is closer to the one he uses for Guillermo. You shrink away from his touch and he looks crestfallen for a second, but then he straightens his spine adopting the warrior’s confidence that he wears like a robe to cover what’s underneath. “Into the cell, now. Both of you.”

The door closes with a creak of its hinges and the heavy thunk of the lock sliding into place. 

Nandor peaks through the barred window and waves at the two of you, “Alright, have a good night! Wish me luck at the orgy!”

His footsteps echo through the basement as he walks away, trailing the camera crew behind him. Once they leave, the cell is only dimly illuminated by the guttering flame of a single candle stick mounted on the wall outside. You meet Guillemo’s eyes silently for a long moment and then plunk down onto the couch and cry.

---

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Nandor curses frantically as he clambers down the basement steps, two at a time. 

It’s the night after the orgy. He’d gone to bed at dawn feeling drained--literally and figuratively--and covered in the slow-to-heal puncture wounds characteristic of vampire fangs. The orgy was a resounding success. Though, truth be told, Nandor spent much of the night going through the motions as his mind fixated on the look of hurt betrayal on his human’s face before the party. He couldn’t understand why you’d begrudge him a night of dark fornication, a celebration of his vampiric identity. Nor why you’d resent his efforts to keep you safe from the violent debauchery. All he knew for sure was that with each new sexual encounter of the evening he found himself missing you and wishing more and more that you were by his side.

That is, until he and Laszlo partook of some opium infused blood towards the end of the festivities. Nandor stumbled to bed with a pleasant buzzing in his head that completely drowned out the small voice warning him that there was something important he’d forgotten.

“She’s going to be pissed!” he hisses into the camera while rushing down the dark corridor toward the cell. As he approaches the door he says, louder, “Good evening! Wake up time! Everyone have a nice sleep?”

He turns the key in the lock and swings open the door, ducking inside with a grimace of trepidation. He finds you curled up with Guillermo on the couch. The two of you are shivering against the cold that feels like it’s settled permanently into your bones. You’ve spent an entire night and a day locked in a frigid cell without a blanket, food, or any amenities whatsoever. 

Nandor fiddles his fingers nervously and asks, “Guillermo...mortal...are you alright?”

It’s Guillermo who finally answers, “You forgot about us.”

“No, no...not exactly,” Nandor denies. “But you know how it is with guests over. Things get very hectic--”

“You forgot,” Guillermo repeats. “About. Us.”

Nandor’s shrugs helplessly, “A...bit. I forgot a bit.”

You can feel the intensity of his eyes on you, but you refuse to look up as you stand on shaky legs and make your way around him and out of the basement. 

Nandor stands there silently for a moment before turning to the camera and mouthing, “Fuck.”

---

Tags:

@festering-queen​ @kandomeresbitch​ @strangestdiary​ @glitterportrait​ @scuzmunkie​ @redwoodshadows

[lys-lilac]

The Realization of Importance

Part (1/3)

[A/N: The characters belong to Voltage inc. The work only belongs to me. This is based on a dream event of mine, hence it might feel a little odd. If you are uninterested, it’s ok to discontinue, otherwise dive right in!]

                                                     Part [1/3]

[ Night: Kasumi’s office]

Kasumi: Huh?

I discover a dozing Kasumi in his study, when I arrive after the last post-op rounds.

MC: I am back! Sorry if I woke you up...

As I see him get up, his expression towards me is not a familiar one, as if he had worn a façade of formality, for his colleagues or students. I shove away this thought as immediately as I can, thinking he might just be exhausted from the work. But, the next moment he speaks, leaves me shocked.

Kasumi: Do I know you? 

MC: ...

No, it couldn’t be, right? I pinch my cheeks as hard as I can, just hoping that all that was happening was a lie. But, my hopes are shattered to pieces as nothing happens. How could that exactly be possible? It’s not like it’s some manga or anything.

Kasumi: Why are you here? Are you a new resident?

Kasumi interrupts my train of thoughts. I still can’t believe that the dark prince who cared for me so much, with whom I went to dates, who stayed by my side always, doesn’t know me.

MC: You are not joking right? Today’s not April Fools’ either... 

Kasumi: I am sorry, but I don’t remember seeing you here.

It was like falling into the deepest pit. The abyss from which I can’t get out, not anymore. With no choice left in my mind, I had to dejectedly reply-

MC: Yes, I am MC. And I am a new resident here. You might not have noticed me, as I transferred here today itself. I am here to submit today’s report.

Although a bit skeptical, he agrees. 

It was just a lie. I had been here for almost a year. And I was assigned as cardiovascular surgery resident by him only. But, something else was going on in my mind. How come he forgot me? I just came back from the EICU, and every one was conversing with me normally. I had to definitely go and confirm once leaving his office. Completing my paperwork, I break into a run towards the EICU.

[Night: Seimei University EICU]

MC: Guys, I have something to discuss with you all!

When I arrive at the EICU, my voice is no longer in its limits. But, not even one pops his head in my direction. What? Have they also...

MC: Listen to me, I say!!! 

I was on the verge of tears as I say this. Hosho gets off his chair and comes to me.

Hosho: What’s the matter that our MC is worried about?

Kyogoku: You are allowed to show that loud tone of yours in front of us, but not against Kasumi, you hear? Otherwise, you would be turned into a statue in less than a minute.

MC: You all remember me, right?

Takado: If you are talking about a student extremely annoying, exceptionally loud, and a dumb girl, then yes.

Even though I would had been boiling with frustration at this point, this time, it relieves me. They haven’t forgotten me. But then why Kasumi only...?

MC: If you all remember me, how come Kasumi doesn’t? Don’t say me Kyogoku that you pulled some magic trick on him!

Kyogoku: That would have been a lot better if I could do that. But, I don’t know.

Ekuni: Has he hit himself with something on the head?

Takado: As if he would. Hey Hosho, what gives?

Hosho: Hmm, it can be dementia or retrograde amnesia. Maybe, due to excess stress and overwork, or maybe due to lack of rest.

MC: How about we-

Kyogoku: I will go.

Even though Kyogoku wasn’t the type to be worried about me and express it, he silently leaves the EICU. His furrowed eyebrows and facial expressions showed how much he was desperate at that moment to find the truth. Just then, the next sight leaves me stuck in my place. Standing outside was none other than Kasumi, and accompanying her was-- another me?!

Kasumi: I am leaving with MC-

For a moment, everyone’s eyes widen at the scene, including Kasumi. The other me appears to blink at me, with a surprise look on her face.

Takado: What exactly is going on here... Who is the actual dummy?

Kyogoku: Was one not enough to deal with...

Her appearance, height, hair all resembled mine, except my dress. I was in my casual clothes, while she was dressed in a pink top, denim and white coat. Even to me,  she appeared as the original me, while I was just a fake silhouette. I had to break the ice somehow. 

MC: Ahahaha, What a small world! I had heard that there are seven persons in the world who are the carbon copy of each other, but I never imagined that their appearance could also be the same. I am so sorry for the trouble I have caused. I will be careful!

If I had spoken one more word, I am sure my voice would have sounded broken. Because I was just about to cry that moment. Unable to control my tears and my emotions, I run from there as fast as I can. While getting past Kasumi and the other me, I saw their intertwined hands. Before, I saw Kasumi’s tender smile, which I yearned the most. I couldn’t let it fade away. 

My legs were starting to feel numb, but that didn’t bother me. Even if it was the other me, I was jealous. Pitter, patter... one drop fell, following another, and it became intense. I was not sure whether the raindrops were trickling from my face, or my tears. I just wanted to get as far as I can from there.

~ 

That’s it for this part! What do you think will happen in the next part? Will Kasumi continue to stay with new MC that our MC saw? Or will he realize our MC’s identity as real?

This is my first time working on a concept which is totally based on a dream event. I am sure it might feel weird for you to read this, as this is a little bit more with angst. Stay tuned for the next part!

~Lys

[deliberatelyvague]

Not a Monster (obey me x gn!reader)

Started: April 15, 2020 at 3:15pm

Ended: April 15, 2020 at 5:18pm

Word Count: 1,310

Pairing(s): [platonic! demon brothers x platonic! reader] [platonic! angels x platonic! reader], [platonic! solomon x platonic! reader]

Trigger Warning(s): angst, (could be seen as) abusive parents, degradation, mentions of homicide

Author’s Note: When I first started this one shot, I didn’t know where I wanted to go with it, but I liked how it turned out. I thought I was going to have everyone individually comforting the reader, but I would have pretty much written the same thing over again, so I apologize if this isn’t what you wanted. Also, pretty much the only people who are comforting the reader are Lucifer, Satan, Mammon, Simeon, and Luke, so if you wanted some comfort from any other characters, they are in the room, just not comforting the reader.

Request/Prompt: God I hope I'm not annoying you with all my requests. Okay so a uh everyone x female reader(so the brothers, the angels and the shady wizard) (but it's friendship!) Where the reader feels bad because they had a call with their parents and the parents called her a monster(because she doesn't care for them because they're awful and because the reader has trouble showing emotions) and they cheer her up and she ends up crying and is like "I'm not a monster??" And uh yeah

————

You wanted to be thankful that Diavolo had allowed you to contact your family, you really did. But just as you had suspected when you first dialed your home phone number, you were only met with disappointment.

It wasn’t that you expected to be immediately hit with hatred and the disgust that your family held for you, but you did. They hated you. They were in some ways afraid of you almost, like you were this being that they couldn’t figure out, and of course like with most humans, stuff they don’t understand scares them.

They couldn’t figure out why you were enjoying your time in ‘Hell’ as much as you were.

“It’s not Hell, it’s the Devildom, it’s two separate places,” you tried to assure them, but they weren’t having any of it.

“Of course you would be the one to say that. It’s where you belong, anyway. I should’ve killed you when you started having your emotional issues anyway, then you could’ve been there for much longer than you will be,” scoffed your mother.

You were taken aback.

“You.. you don’t mean that,” you said. You could feel yourself shutting down, your face turning cold. To wanted to tell her how much heading her say that hurt you, but you didn’t know how.

“Yes I do. And there you go again, shutting down when you hear something you don’t like. Well, you’re going to have to deal with it, sweetheart. The world isn’t going to be nice to you just because you shut down and don’t express your emotions.”

You stayed quiet, looking downcast as you but your lip. You didn’t even feel any tears coming to your eyes, but you knew you were sad. It just didn’t show.

“You probably don’t even care about us, if you did you would have come home on the first day instead of choosing to stay in Hell. You’re a monster, I wish I had aborted you when I had the chance. If I knew how much trouble you would be-”

“I need to go,” you told her, not wanting to hear her anymore and sick of the aching in your chest. “Love you.”

You didn’t hear anything on the other side before the phone hung up. You placed it back into its compartment and started heading back to your room. The brothers tried to stop you, but you kept walking.

“[Y/N]! How’d it go?” You heard Mammon ask before you shrugged and closed the door to your room. You headed for your closet, wrapping a blanket around you before curling up in a ball, with your knees to your chest and shutting the door.

You stay there for a few minutes before you hear your bedroom door open, and a pair of footsteps come in.

“[Y/N]?” You hear a voice call out. You didn’t say anything, just curling deeper into your blanket.

Your closet door opened and it revealed Lucifer. You could see a lot of bodies around your room and your eyes glanced up at Lucifer before you shut them.

“What happened?” You heard a voice behind Lucifer and you just shrugged.

“I thought it was going to go well, but it didn’t. If I knew they didn’t want to see me I wouldn’t have called them,” you tell them, and Lucifer put his arms around you, dragging you out of the closet. You saw all of them standing there: the brothers, the angels and Solomon. You laid on the floor and looked at the lights in your room, half of your body in the closet and the other half out of it, your blanket wrapping around your legs. “I don’t know what I did to make them hate me so much.”

You feel your chest ache more and Luke comes over to you and lays next to you, also looking at the ceiling. You could tell no one knew really what to say, probably because they really didn’t know what you were feeling.

“I’m sure they don’t hate you that much,” Mammon tried to comfort you, but you shook your head.

“My mom told me that she should’ve aborted me. She said I was too much trouble, because I can’t show my emotions and I shut down when I feel things and because I chose to stay here instead of going home on the first day,” you tell them, and for the first time in years, you feel tears coming to your eyes.

“They would rather me be dead than have to deal with me! And even though I chose to stay here, one reason being because I didn’t want to be a bother to them, they still hate me! They called me a monster! I don’t know what to do,” you sobbed, and you felt Luke hug your side.

“It’ll be okay, [Nickname], Simeon and I can just take you up to the Celestial Realm with us when the year is over, so you don’t have to deal with them.” You laughed a little bit, wrapping your arms around him too.

“I don’t think-” you started.

“Yeah, no, we’re keeping them down here! They’re ours, Chihuahua!” You hear Mammon say, and you see him walk up to you.

“Do you think I could not go back to the Human Realm? There’s nothing for me there other than people who don’t care for me and heartbreak.” You mummer to Lucifer, and he looks a little skeptical.

“Possibly, we’ll have to talk to Lord-”

“Nu-uh, they’re staying with us! We’re better for them than those parents of theirs anyway!” Mammon fought, and then when Lucifer sent him a glance with an eyebrow raised, Mammon shrunk a little bit.

“Nevertheless, no matter where you choose to stay, you aren’t a monster, [Y/N], you’re perfectly fine. Your emotions are valid, even if you can’t express them like everyone else.” Simeon says to you, and you look over at him. More tears around to your eyes, and you started crying again.

“I-I’ve never had someone tell me that. I’m a monster, only monsters can’t show their emotions, I-”

“Am I a monster?” You hear Satan saying. You frowned, looking over at him. Literally or figuratively? Because the answers are different.

“Why would you say that?”

“I can’t show emotions very easily. I also put up a mask, [Y/N], so answer me, am I a monster? Is Lucifer a monster?”

You sit up.

“I guess despite the fact that you both are demons, you aren’t monsters. I don’t think so, at least,” you told them.

“So, why would you, a human who isn’t a demon, or anything of the sort, be a monster? [Y/N], you’re the sweetest person I’ve met,” Lucifer tells you. More tears fell to your face, covering your reddened cheeks. “I know that this won’t change the years of your parents abusing you, but I hope you know no one in this room thinks of you as a monster.”

“I-I’m not a monster?” You ask again.

“Of course not, Lamb,” Simeon comforts.

You felt at least a little happier knowing that, at least to the people in this room, you aren’t a monster. You’re perfectly fine to them.

[kikifeliz]

THE WEEK AHEAD: April 19 - April 25, 2021

By Kiki Feliz

♋️♏️♓️ Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces

While the underlying energy here regards a new opportunity, the overlying energy here is a bit violent, unfortunately.

Someone is trying to trap you, or you may be feeling trapped by a situation. I definitely see an offer on the table that you shouldn’t ignore, which seems to be a good opportunity — however, you’re skeptical about it because you’ve been rejected a lot in the past and this offer just seems a little too good to be true. Guess what, it is — but you shouldn’t ignore it all the same. Why not? There’s something sexy about it that will ultimately raise your stock, which I believe you can parlay into another opportunity. You don’t have to TAKE this weird temptation in order to parlay it; just keep it in your back pocket as a trump card during negotiations with other offers.

It’s as if someone is dangling something over your head. It’s something you want desperately, so while you may consider this, know that is is a devil’s bargain. Don’t let past rejections cause you to act rashly, because you’ve been building a strong foundation for a whole now; don’t topple all your hard work for a get rich quick scheme. You will be successful and stable without this offer regardless, but the question is are you prepared to venture out ON YOUR OWN into the wild in order to continue your journey? I can’t say that this person or organization’s support is worth it.

Take some time to rest and recharge this week. A tragedy is on its way, and you need to be emotionally prepared. It’s possible that a father-figure, husband, fiancee may fall ill or have some sort of negative interaction. I do see them finding peace, though. If someone does get sick, don’t take it upon yourself to care for them. I know this sounds harsh, but you’d only be doing more harm to yourself than good by stepping into the situation. Use your best judgement, and try to work as a team or even better, hire some help if you can. Follow your intuition, it will tell you what is best here.

I see you attracting a lot of stability this week. Lots of growth energy, and it looks like you really have a plan of action to move forward to become to absolute ruler of your money, your time, and your resources. You see the bountiful vision ahead of you and you are well aware or the hard work it will take to get there, but you’re also scared. Despite having a solid plan, this fear is keeping you from fully believing in yourself. “It’s outlandish,” I’m hearing. But is it? Haven’t others already been where you want to go? If they can do it, why can’t you??? Don’t let fear hold you back — the world knows how powerful you are, but you don’t see yourself the way they do. I promise you, if you are brave and take that first step, what seems like a burden now will be tackled bit by bit. Yes, the crown is heavy.... but you have the shoulders and the brains to support it. Don’t let insecurities hold you back from seeing the strength you possess! You are stronger than the disappointments you’ve felt lately, especially the disappointments regarding love.

I do see new love opportunities coming in; some good, some bad. We all experience good luck and bad luck in this arena, it’s normal. If you’ve experienced domestic violence in the past (including non-physical abuse), just know that help is available. Unfortunately, things might get worse before they get better. I’m seeing some very violent energy here and it definitely looks like someone is mad as fuck, and it doesn’t seem to be you. Defend yourself against jabs of any kind — verbal or physical. If someone tries to hurt you physically (I am seeing stabby energy here, sadly, but it doesn’t have to be a jab with a knife, it could also be with a fist or with words) use all the tools at your disposal to turn the situation around, without fear! I do see a positive resolution to whatever this situation is, and I see you coming into your power and transmuting this to make something great. This especially for my artists, it will add fuel to your creative fire.

Some of you may turn to religion this week, or may find a really positive community within a religious context. I see people from your past as well. Some of you may go on a fishing trip, some of you may get married and have a very beautiful reception! Lots of dancing & joy happening this week.

I see your efforts at time management paying off, and I also see you joining some sort of support group/band/troupe/ or just a general group of likeminded individuals who will help you to maintain focus along your path.

I am seeing good health for you this week as well!! Although I definitely want you to stay at home for the most part, it’s okay to get a small group together and go for a walk or a skate or play some music on the street — whatever it is you like to do! This brief outing will definitely cheer you up from any negative energy and it will help you keep focused on your goals as well. While at home, focus on organizing your stuff and making things as beautiful as possible, I see a lot of cute home decor in your future!

[odanurr87]

My thoughts on... The King: Eternal Monarch

Lee Min-ho as Lee Gon, and Kim Go-eun as Jeong Tae-eul.

Release date: April 17 - June 12, 2020

Episodes: 16

Available on: Netflix

Plot synopsis: On one fateful night of December 1994, the king of the Kingdom of Corea was brutally murdered by his illegitimate brother, Lee Lim. The king’s son, Lee Gon, was spared a similar fate thanks to the timely intervention of a mysterious saviour, who only left behind an identity card belonging to one Lieutenant Jeong Tae-eul. 15 years later, King Lee Gon finds himself transported to the parallel world of the Republic of Korea where he meets Lieutenant Jeong Tae-eul and together they work to uncover a conspiracy across their two worlds.

Rewatch meter: Medium to High

Introduction

The King: Eternal Monarch is the latest work by writer Kim Eun-sook and, since I enjoyed two of her previous works (Descendants of the Sun and Goblin), I was quite looking forward to it. I didn't know actor Lee Min-ho at the time but I recalled Kim Go-eun from Goblin so I was relatively excited to see her in another main role. The pilot episode of the show was great, deftly introducing us to a host of characters and setting up several plot threads in a total runtime of 70 minutes, already incorporating the concepts of time travel and parallel worlds, not an easy task and a much welcome departure from most kdramas on air. Since I am a fan of sci-fi and modern fantasy however, that meant I'd put this show under the microscope so how did it fare?

Related reviews: Goblin

Characters

From left to right: Lee Jung-jin as Lee Lim, Jung Eun-chae as Goo Seo-rung, Lee Min-ho as Lee Gon, Kim Go-eun as Jeong Tae-eul, Woo Do-hwan as Jo Yeong, and Kim Kyung-nam as Kang Shin-jae.

The show enjoys, and suffers from, a host of characters on both worlds, with many actors playing dual roles because of the concept of parallel worlds. This (over)abundance of characters results in most having to play second fiddle to the two leads. In hindsight, a tighter cast would've worked better. A fair few of the characters (e.g. the detective hiding something from his wife, the pregnant lady, the mother of Lee Gon's doppelganger, god kid, and many more) did not ultimately justify their presence other than to set up (underwhelmingly resolved) mysteries to keep the audience engaged. More important characters, like Prime Minister Koo and Lee Lim, sadly never reached their full potential to my mind, being relegated to play more stereotypical antagonist roles in the end. While I can understand this decision with Lee Lim to an extent, it was a shame Prime Minister Koo’s character wasn’t more nuanced. While Lee Min-ho's characterization of Lee Gon has taken some flak I found him to act more or less in line with how a (fictional) king would, one excited at the prospect of having found the woman he's been searching for for most of his life. Kim Go-eun as Jeong Tae-eul was the one who truly delivered on the emotional end of the spectrum, as we all knew she would. Sadly, the character of Luna was more undercooked, and the show could probably have done without her.

Pacing

The all-out battle at the end of Episode 11, with Lee Gon showing off his skill with the sword, is one of the highlights of the show.

While the pacing of the show ramped up considerably towards the end it actually started rather slowly. Lee Gon discovers the Republic of Korea at the end of the first episode, yes, but it is not until the end of Episode 4 that he returns to his kingdom, with a skeptical Jeong Tae-eul in tow. Then, it is at the end of Episode 9 that Lee Gon and Lee Lim have their first encounter, with an all-out battle with Lee Lim's henchmen at the end of Episode 11, and the reveal of the identity of the savior at the end of Episode 13. I was quite satisfied with the show's pacing up until that point but a little worried about how they would tie everything up with 3 episodes left, worries that proved to be justified, as many plot threads were left unresolved or rushed to conclusion without living up to the expectations built up after several episodes. Considering the last episode of the show solves the main conflict in the first 20 minutes, I don't think this faster pacing was justified.

Execution

It is difficult not to conclude the execution of the plot wasn't nearly as tight as it could've been. The show continuously introduced new questions, new mysteries, and new characters, to keep us guessing, to keep us engaged, sometimes to the detriment of the overall storytelling quality. Who is this new character? How does s/he factor in Lee Lim's plan? Who's sending this stuff to PM Koo? What is the significance of the scars? There is no doubt these questions succeeded in keeping us engaged and I have to give it props for that. However, the execution was dragged down from indulging in superfluous characters and plot threads. Park Moon-sik's nightly escapades from his wife are a perfect example, a plot whose resolution was needlessly postponed till the final episode. Removing such plots could've open up time better served to further develop characters, like PM Koo, or explore Lee Lim's plans more thoroughly, an aspect where I feel the show dropped the ball, as these turned out to be contradictory and contrived, helping out the writer more than Lee Lim himself.

Time Travel

Sadly, the execution of time travel is a direct casualty of continuously trying to surprise the audience with new twists or for the sake of pulling at our heart strings. Up until Episode 13, its depiction of time travel lined up perfectly with the concept of a causal loop (e.g. Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban), but then Episode 14 had characters remember new past events in real-time (think of the movie Frequency, with Jim Caviezel and Dennis Quaid), and Episode 15 resurrected a character who should've been dead, among potentially more problematic issues. Time travel is a fictional concept, but even fiction is guided by certain rules and, sadly, the depiction of time travel in The King: Eternal Monarch does not hold up under further scrutiny, what deflated my engagement somewhat. Here I was, trying to understand how the writer had put together the puzzle only to realize some of the pieces didn't line up or were from different puzzles altogether. This was not entirely unexpected, as few stories have used time travel consistently in the past, but I was mildly disappointed, particularly given the writer’s excellent work and attention to detail in Goblin.

Romance

Another highlight of the show, especially if you understand exactly what is going on in this scene.

While I can believe Lee Gon could’ve developed feelings for Jeong Tae-eul after searching for her for 20+years (fans of The Expanse will recall Miller also developed feelings for Julie while searching for her), the beginning of their romance in Episode 5 felt a bit forced. It also struck me as odd when Jeong Tae-eul was the one to declare her feelings of love for Lee Gon in Episode 7 instead of the other way around. In fact, it isn't until Episode 10 that Lee Gon admits his feelings for her in one of the most emotional scenes of the show. Perhaps if the two had switched around their declarations it would’ve made more sense.

In any case, their romantic relationship was cemented from Episode 10 onwards for me, although they had cute couple moments in earlier episodes, with Episode 6 featuring the most heartfelt conversations and interactions. For my part, watching their relationship continue to unfold was one of the highlights of the show, and it certainly delivered in the following episodes. Lee Gon's unyielding quest across time and space to find Jeong Tae-eul again and again was moving, though more powerful in Episode 14 than 16 to my mind, perhaps because of the music, editing, and added emotional impact of Jeong Tae-eul knowing Lee Gon is on his way. Perhaps if Episode 16 had dedicated more than 5 minutes (count them) of its runtime to show Lee Gon constantly leaving the palace to search for and meet different versions of Jeong Tae-eul throughout the years it would've been a lot more impactful, and potentially heartbreaking. Tying it to his appearance at the end of Episode 10 would've made it perfect.

Music

I hesitate slightly to say the soundtrack for The King: Eternal Monarch is on the same level as that of Goblin (time will tell), but if it's not, it certainly isn't far behind. Songs like "Gravity," "Orbit," and "Maze," or instrumental tracks like "One Day," "My Love and...," "Into the Fantasy," and "The Fantasia of Another Dimension," are a sample of this album's best. Sadly, not all tracks featured in the show are included in the album, such as the variant of “The King” that plays at the end of Episode 15 when Lee Gon bids farewell to Lady Noh. If you're a soundtrack aficionado like I am, I'd suggest you keep this album in your Spotify library or equivalent.

Conclusions

The King: Eternal Monarch is, by no means, a perfect show. It is technically not as good as writer Kim Eun-sook's previous Goblin, which overall covered the topics previously discussed better than The King did. However, that is not to say The King: Eternal Monarch isn't an overall good show as it is, one that boldly incorporates interesting concepts like time travel and parallel worlds to its narrative with ultimately mixed results. The music is great, production values are top notch, and all of the actors’ performances were on point, though a tighter cast would’ve benefited some of their performances. While the romance between Lee Min-ho’s and Kim Go-eun’s characters may be a hard sell for some, at least initially, it ultimately worked for me.

If you haven't watched the show yet and are reading this review now, then I'm sorry that you've missed out on the experience of watching the show week to week, discussing and dissecting it with other viewers, and rewatching episodes scouring for clues, a process it easily lends itself to as opposed to other kdramas. If you're into sci-fi and modern fantasy, then I'd encourage you to give it a watch, bearing in mind the previously discussed caveats. If you're into romance kdramas, set your expectations accordingly. If you're looking for more recommendations on modern fantasy+romance and have already watched Goblin, then allow me to recommend the excellent Hotel del Luna (which I’m currently in the process of reviewing after watching it, what, four times now?). For my part, I'm looking forward to Kim Eun-sook, Lee Min-ho, and Kim Go-eun's next projects.

[zacharyleigh316]

Let’s Not Skip the Good Parts

A quarantine johnlock ficlet | 2,261 words 

This Johnlock ficlet is inspired by the sherlockchallenge on tumblr. This is technically supposed to be for April’s prompt “skip” but I wasn’t able to write it until now.

In which John creates a little game to make quarantine a bit more bearable for the both of them, and he realizes that things aren’t as bad as they first appear. The lesson to be learned here, is that you can’t just skip to end; you might end up missing the good parts. (Though Sherlock would like to think he already knows how everything is going to go.)

Tags: Canon Divergence - The Reichenbach Fall, Post-Reichenbach, this takes place during the virus, Sherlock and John are quarantined together...

Read on Ao3

It started like any other thing would.

Not necessarily out of the blue, but out of necessity perhaps, as most things do, after all, when the world is plagued by fear, and you’re being asked to stay inside your homes in order to keep yourself and your loved ones safe from disease.

No one ever said it was going to be easy, and there’s a few things in life that would even see to making sure that it wasn’t, thing that make it all the more difficult to endure, and oh how unfathomable right?

John supposes he would’ve liked a warning, but he was never that lucky. He couldn’t really complain when he too was stuck inside like everyone else, and not out there with all the other licensed medical professionals risking their lives for the greater good. It certainly didn’t stop the guilty voice in his head saying it ‘could be worse’, because that was a given. He’s survived hot desert sand, bullet wounds to the shoulder; blood on his hands, the blood of friends, comrades, strangers, that could never be fully washed away, as if it was under his skin, a part of him. However it was certainly easy to forget all that when you were in quarantine with a madman.

Ah yes, there it was. He hated the word, disliked when people said it, but he was, for all intents and purposes, trapped. Trapped in the flat with one Sherlock Holmes.

But John wasn’t anything if not resourceful. So yes, it was most definitely born out of necessity...this little game. There would be a time, long long ago, where even the mere thought of it would’ve driven him mad, just like his detective. In fact it did, whenever a spoiler past those bowed lips, pursed in petulance at being force to sit still, and watch something as mundane and boring as television. But now? Oh now not even John could deny that things have changed.

Because now, both he and Sherlock were together in quarantine for however long—much to his own chagrin—and his companion was always the restless sort. Being in one place for an indefinite amount of time really was the worst of news, for both of them.

You see, John had to do something, anything, and so he did.

“John.”

“Yes, Sherlock?” John sighed, folding up the paper he was reading neatly on his lap.

“Quarantine.”

John raised a brow, his eyes landing on Sherlock’s back, the detective standing over by the window, looking longingly out at the streets below.

“I know, Sherlock. Believe me, I’m aware.”

“This is inconvenient.”

John let out a snort, ignoring the icy glare Sherlock sent his way. “You’re telling me,” he muttered, attention flicking back towards his paper.

“I’m serious John. We’re stuck inside the flat with nowhere to go. Do you really think crime will just stop? I have to be out there.” Sherlock turned back toward the window, and huffed, making John roll his eyes.

“This is serious too Sherlock. You traipsing all over London looking for trouble isn’t going to help anyone, and you’ll probably catch the virus whilst you’re at it.”

“But-“

“No buts Sherlock. I might be a doctor, but I’m not qualified to care for you, if you get COVID-19. And what if you’re high risk? What if I am? Think about Mrs. Hudson. You wouldn’t want to give her the virus would you?”

“Of course not! John why would you even propose such a thing?” Sherlock looked at him in surprise, sounding appalled at even the thought of their lovely landlady getting sick.

“Exactly. The city can wait for its consulting detective for a few more months.”

“Months? John, I don’t know if I can last that long.”

“Don’t be dramatic. We’ve been through tougher, longer situations.”

John’s lips flattened out in a thin line at the grim reminder of the two years he spent without Sherlock, and if the emotions flickering rapidly across Sherlock’s face was any indication, he’d gather Sherlock knew exactly what came to mind just then.

Yeah it might be hard, but they’ve waited for longer; it wouldn’t even come close to...we’ll, that. I could never.

John cleared his throat, meeting Sherlock’s apologetic gaze. “The death count may be receding Sherlock, but it’s still out there devastating the nation. Just be grateful our government is doing something...I mean, look at America.”

Sherlock snorted, his face scrunching up in disgust. “I don’t want to be grateful to Mycroft for anything. In fact, John, let’s go out and give COVID-19 to my brother.”

“No, absolutely not.” John deadpanned, “that’s a terrible idea and you know it. Besides, he’s not that bad.”

The detective pouted, and stomped his way over to the sofa, dramatically draping his body over the length of it. He tossed his arm across his face, the toes on his bare feet twitching. John sighed, tossing the paper he had no chance of finishing onto the coffee table; Sherlock was getting antsy.

Just yesterday he was stomping around the living room, screeching his violin, and shouting out lyrics to songs that John didn’t know. The day before that he counted, or, at least, tried to count, and very loudly, might he add, each and every speckle on the ceiling. And the day before that , it was the spaces in the asphalt. John doesn’t even want to get into every other day so far, and it’s only by the very thin thread he’s tethered Sherlock to, that he’s got him straying away from experiments. (Lest he create another virus.)

“Sherlock, would you like to play a game?”

He saw Sherlock perk up, toes curling curiously as he peeked out from under his arm.

“A game?”

“Yes,” John smirked, quite please with his own genius, “a game.”

“What...what kind of game?” He raised a brow skeptically, multicolored eyes flitting about John’s face, deducting, searching for some kind of tell, a giveaway.

John glanced around quickly, his own eyes falling upon the remote, which rested amongst the clutter on the coffee table.

“Well, we can watch the television.”

Sherlock deflated. “The television? Seriously John? What kind of game-“

“I wasn’t finished,” he interrupted, feigning seriousness, “do you want to play or not? Because we don’t have too, and I’ll stop.” He baited.

“No! Tell me John. What does this game have to do with the television?”

“Alright. I’ll tell you. But you’ve got to promise-“

“Yes.”

“You didn’t even hear what I had to say!”

“I don’t care John, just spit it out.”

John glared, and crossed his arms. “Fine. You have to watch whatever I choose to put on the television: movie, tv show, anything.”

“But?”

“But, I’ll let you guess the ending. Then we can skip ahead and see if you were right.”

“Okay...and if I’m right, John? What then?”

“If you’re right...I owe you a favor. After the quarantine ends, though, and only then. Unless it’s something that can be done inside I suppose. With minimal damage.”

“Hmm, then if I’m wrong, I’m guessing you get the favor? Sounds very risky John, for you at least. I don’t usually get things wrong.”

“There’s a possibility. You’re not perfect.” John raised a brow, his expression a challenge.

He knew he had Sherlock in his clutches already, but it certainly didn’t do any harm to get in a little tease.

“If you don’t like the favor idea,” John continued, “we can always change the prize. We’ve got time.”

“Alright then. John Watson, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Yeah? Good doing business with you then, Sherlock Holmes.”

Sherlock grinned, and John’s shoulders sagged in relief. It would hopefully be enough to hold the detective off for a while, and if it allowed John to get some sleep—he could always do with some peace and quiet—then all the more better for it, right?

“The game is on.”

And that’s how it started.

Soon enough, John and Sherlock were playing their little game almost every day, and as to be expected, each time they did, they found Sherlock was usually right. It went without saying that whenever the detective was seen getting antsy, John would simply turn on the telly, pick something to watch, and leave Sherlock to predict the ending. As promised, John would then skip to the end, to see if his assumptions were correct. They were.

And sure, John was having all of his favorite shows and movies spoiled, but after a while, he found that it really hadn’t spoiled his mood as much as he thought it ought to. In fact, he was having fun. It wasn’t really a surprise once he thought about it, seeing as he always knew his flatmate was brilliant; saw it with his own eyes almost every day for the ten plus years they’ve known each other. It was always a pleasure to see Sherlock deduce, to come to a conclusion faster than any normal human would, to witness the utter, sheer brain power of a Holmes.

John smiled to himself and shook his head, lifting his thumb off the fast forward button. Sherlock did it once again.

“I don’t know how you do it Sherlock.”

“You do. In fact, I think you’ve done this all on purpose.”

“Oh?” John raised a brow, his amused expression directed toward his friend.

“Yes, ‘oh’. Surely you must know, especially by now, that I will always be able to figure out the ending? They’re simple story arcs, John, and simple story arcs follow even simpler patterns, because they’re set down a given path. A beginning, middle, and end; the rising action, climax, falling action, and your denouement. No matter how different the content, a story is a story, and they’re all the same . You can’t possibly be ignorant to this fact, John, being as dull as you are. You love films and television shows after all. Even twist endings foreshadow that the story is set to head in a different direction, that you can expect the unexpected, which makes it become expected.”

“Thanks?”

“What I’m trying to say is, John,” Sherlock steeples his fingers underneath his chin, “why do you continue to play this game, with the knowledge you could never win? At this point, I have a lot of favors against you, that is, if we continue to go with the original plan.”

John shrugged, “I have a lot of favors to do for you then.”

“Yes, but why? You said I could ask anything of you, as long as it didn’t cause much damage.”

“Sherlock, it’s just a game. I made it up on the spot to keep you occupied because I knew how much the quarantine was affecting you, negatively. I’m actually doing myself a favor too, because by you keeping busy, I’m able to keep my own sanity.”

“Hmm, that’s it? You’ll really want me to cash in all these favors I’ve won eventually?” Sherlock raised his brow, hands falling neatly into his lap.

“Why not? I already follow you wherever you go. I make tea and food for you, clean up after you. Do almost everything you ask, as it is, Sherlock.” John rolled his eyes.

“I suppose. Very well.”

“Besides, even if I get the endings spoiled for me, and well, we skip almost all the good parts—everything really—I get to spend time with you. We get to watch television together, like everybody else, just a bit unconventionally.”

“In that case, I’d like to use a favor now.”

Sherlock leaned in and captured John’s lips with his own, a large hand coming up to gently cup his cheek. When Sherlock pulled away, John chuckled, a large smile blooming on his face.

“You silly, gorgeous, stupidly brilliant man...” he said a bit breathless, shaking his head fondly.

“You didn’t need to use a favor for that.”

“Perhaps not, John, but if we continue to play this ridiculous game, I figured I should start using them before you’re forever indebted to me.”

John snorted, “okay. Sure.”

Sherlock smiled, which made John smile all over again, and they both leaned back in for another kiss, this one much less chaste than the first. Sherlock swiped his tongue across John’s lips, and he parted them, allowing the detective to deepen the kiss. John made a pleased sound, and Sherlock hummed back, both sounds being quickly absorbed by each other’s mouths. When they pulled away this time, it was for air.

They knocked their foreheads together, and John closed his eyes, his smiling returning to his face.

“Was that another favor?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“If you can accurately guess how this,” Sherlock gestures between them, looking smug, “is going to end.”

John laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners, the little crows feet smiles of their own.

“That so? And what? We’re going to skip to end and see if I was right?”

“Oh John, you and I both know that that’s not only impossible, but also highly implausible. I’m not entirely inclined to skip any of this.”

“You’re insufferable.” He teased, his cobalt eyes sparkling in the dim light.

“But y-yeah,” John wet his lips, “I don’t really want to either.”

And it started like any other thing would...

(John would also like to note that, things do have the ability to change. Quarantine with Sherlock isn’t as bad as he thought. Sherlock would like to say he told you so. Of course he expected it to always end this way. John owed him another favor.)

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

On The Edge of a Bounce House

Title: On the Edge of a Bounce House

Summary: Virgil thinks he has ruined everything. Logan disagrees. (Mutant!AU)

Pairings: platonic analogical

Word-Count: 915

Warnings: hurt/comfort, crying 

I don’t have an answer to what this, I just know I finished a fic for the first time in two months. And also, I was yearning for some good ole hurt/comfort.

 Virgil sits on the top of a deflated outdoor bounce-house. It’s an ugly mustard yellow color with obnoxious blue and red accents. It is night time. The moon casts upon him like a spotlight in a low grade community theatre production.

He’s fiddling with his hoodie strings, biting his lips. He’s anxious. It’s understandable considering his odd predicament. A twig snaps and with it, his head swiveling towards the direction it came from.

“Logan?” He speaks. It’s clear by his tone he means to whisper, but instead it’s so loud it carries an echo. He flinches, it clearly startling him.

“I’m here.” A much softer voice responds.

Virgil’s head tilts down, eyes squinting to see the bespectacled, sharply dressed man. From his perspective, Logan appears about the size of a barbie doll with its’ head still attached. Everything appears smaller than Virgil because he is bigger. Abnormally so. 

The bounce-house is the equivalent of a deflated air mattress to him; lumpy and devoid of air. 

Virgil wraps his arms around himself, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Logan steps forward now, resting a hand on one of Virgil’s giant purple checkered converse shoes. It is a placating gesture, one Virgil can’t actually feel. 

“W-what do you mean?” Virgil sniffles, emotions afflicting his vocal chords, “I got worked up over something so small and stupid, I ruined the night for everyone!”

“Virgil, you are not the only one who has lost control due to emotions,” Logan says, adjusting his glasses, “Everyone has. Including...me.”

Two eyes that are both the size of a plastic kiddie pool stare down at him. They are big and imposing. Logan has to fight the instinct to flinch. 

“Even you?” Virgil asks, skepticism ringing through, “But you’re…Logan.”

“Yes that’s my name, although I don’t understand what that has to do with this conversation.”

Virgil huffs, crossing his arms in the process, “I mean! You’re always so levelheaded and logical. You always know what to do.”

“Not always.”

Logan sits down on the ground, his back pressed against Virgil’s shoe. He frowns, as grim as the grim reaper working overtime. He takes off his glasses, cradling them in his hands. Virgil thinks he should maybe apologize for upsetting the dude. Except Virgil has the communication skills of a Furby with a dying battery. In other words he is atrocious at comforting people.

“Logan, I—this is different,” Virgil says, “I’m too dangerous, I should just leave—”

“The ability to shoot lasers out of one’s eyes usually proves to be quite lethal,” Logan cuts in, “does that also make me too dangerous to be around?”

The dirt ground suddenly looks more appealing to look at than Logan. Virgil stares at it as if it holds the secret of how to make the world’s greatest cranberry tart. Virgil doesn’t even like cranberry tarts.

Logan sighs, placing his glasses back on.

“I didn’t come here to discuss myself,” He says, “Virgil, no one was injured from the incident. Nor do the others believe you ruined things. In fact they’re more concerned about your well-being than their own.”

“Yeah?” Virgil raises an eyebrow, “if they care so much, then where are they?”

“Based on prior displays of stress, Patton is probably baking an atrocious amount of sweets and Roman is fervently pacing somewhere nearby,” Logan shakes his head, “If you wish to blame someone for their absences, blame me. I was the one who suggested it’d be wiser if only one of us checked up on you, in order to keep from crowding and overwhelming you.”

Logan stands up, his amber eyes glistening brightly, “It’s okay to be scared, Virgil. I know you’re feeling a multitude of emotions right now, but just know I am here if you ever want to talk.”

Virgil does not know how to compute. No one has ever expressed this level of concern for him like this before. He should express something sort of gratitude. Should he say thank you? He should say thank you.

A laugh comes out instead. Dry and brittle like old playdough. Not quite the right reaction.

“I—I wasn’t being humorous,” Logan says, genuine confusion leaking through his words, “I truly do mean those words Virgil. The others and I value your company greatly.”

“I don’t get it,” Virgil bursts out, “Why did you come back? Why don’t you hate me? Wh—”

He hiccups. Tears gather in Virgil’s eyes and Logan has a front-row seat in the splash zone. He doesn’t leave. Instead in typical Logan fashion, he came prepared with an umbrella.

“Because as Patton puts it, you are a part of the fam-I-L-Y,” Logan says softly, “I didn’t fully understand it either. But a family doesn’t abandon one of their own. A family loves and supports them through their struggles.”

Virgil cries harder at these words. Logan grip his umbrella tighter, closer to him. Perhaps his words had an unintentional averse effect. He opens his mouth to apologize when a popping noise occurs. Loud and unexpected like a firework in the middle of April.

There are no more gigantic tears raining down on Logan. Arms proportional to his own seize hold of him, sending him crashing to the ground. Virgil clings to him, no longer as tall as a two-story building. Oh. Logan slowly places his arms around the other’s bony frame. Light and gentle in ways a boa constrictor is not.

“Don’t let go.” Virgil begs, shuddering. He needs reassurance that Logan means it, that he won’t abandon him like everyone else has in his life.

“Never.” Logan responds.

Of course that is a hyperbole. Eventually he will need to release himself from the embrace. But for now, he holds onto Virgil, keeping him from falling apart completely.

[enbiart]

Just a Gal from Gongaga

A little plotbunny, more-or-less. Basic premise is that Gast and Ifalna went to Gongaga instead of the Northern Continent, and managed to get the Fairs to take Aerith before ShinRa did.

"Zack! You get your butt back here, or so help me!"

"So help you, what?"

"ZACHARIAH!"

"Okay, okay...Jeez, Aerith..." Zack mumbled, pouting. His sister tapped her foot impatiently as he carefully made his way back from the creek they'd found, cheeks puffed in annoyance. When he finally stood before her, she placed her hands on her hips and scowled.

"Mom's told you time and time again to stay away from those things!" She scolded.

He groaned. "But they ain't even Touch-Me's, they're just frogs! Can't I catch a frog?"

"Uh-huh, and how'd you know for sure, huh?" She asked skeptically, eyes narrow.

He opened his mouth to reply, but before he got a word out she 'poof!'ed, dropping to the ground as a pretty pink toad. Behind her and previously unnoticed, a Touch-Me hopped away, having done its duty.

She croaked. Angrily. Zack winced.

"Oop- Sorry Aerith! Super, duper sorry! Here, lemme just, uh..." He blanched, and crouched down to pick her up. Her amphibian eyes squinted at him in accusation, and he dropped her into the front pocket of his overalls to avoid the glare. Even as a slimy little frog, she still managed to make him feel like HE was the little brother. It was embarrassing!

He hastily made his escape, dodging flora and fauna alike as he scampered back home. The longer Aerith stayed as a frog, the angrier she was going to be with him. So, he ran and jumped and sometimes even climbed as fast as he could back home, where they hopefully still had some Maiden's Kisses left.

All the while, she croaked threateningly at him, promising sweet death. Doubtlessly she was vowing to throw away one of his MonsterMon cards for every minute she remained unchanged. He had no doubt she'd do it, too (though he did wonder how she knew about them, he thought he hid them pretty well under their parents' bed), and the fear of losing his ultra-rare Tonberrichu card spurred him into running faster than he ever had before in his eleven years of living.

Minerva sang as he finally reached their house and flung the door open. It swung open with a 'BANG', startling their poor mother that was in the middle of making lunch. He ignored her, depositing his sister on the kitchen table and shooting off to rifle through the fridge.

"Aha!" He yelled in triumph, grabbing the woman-shaped bottle. He struggled to pull the cork off, even going as far as trying to use his teeth, before his mother tsked and took it from his hand. She opened the bottle effortlessly, probably because she's had plenty of practice, and poured it on the poor pink frog sitting on the table.

With a 'poof!', ten-year old Aerith Fair was once again whole, sitting cross-legged on the table and ready to tattle.

"Mo~om! Zack went catching Touch-Me's again even though you told him not to!" She whined, too busy glaring at the boy in quesiton to glance at her mother.

He was aghast. "You went with me, you broke the rules too!"

"Only to try an' keep you outta trouble! You're lucky I didn't eat a fly, or you'd really be in for it, idiot!"

"Mo~om! Aerith's calling me names!"

"Only 'cause it's true!"

They bickered back-and-forth, not even noticing that their audience had went back to preparing lunch. It was only when the clink of plates and silverware on the table appeared that they stopped their fight.

"Aerith, get of the table, dear. Could you two go make your drinks, please?" Their mother said, distributing the food. The children scrambled off with a 'yes ma'am', argument already forgot at the prospect of food. Their mother shook her head fondly.

Soon enough, the three of them were sitting aound the table, happily munching away at their meal. Silence didn't last long, though, as it never did around Zack Fair.

"Hey, hey, did you see that guy that was walking around earlier?" He asked to the both of them, bouncing in his seat. At their confused looks, he elaborated, "The cool guy with the sweater and the sword! His eyes were all glowy and he was super buff!"

"Ohh," Aerith said, nodding, "that guy. I didn't get a good look at him, I was too busy runnin' after you." At that, he huffed, and rolled his eyes. She stuck her tongue out at him. He ignored it, looking at their mother instead.

"I've never seen a guy like him before, d'you know who he is?" He asked her. She hummed, and tilted her head in thought.

"Glowing eyes, you said?" She asked. He nodded enthusiastically. "I think that might be one of those SOLDIERs I've been hearing about. I'm not sure, though."

His eyes lit up. He leaned forward excitedly."SOLDIER?! What's that?!"

His mother shrugged. "Some sort of...military that ShinRa's been starting, I think. All I know is that they've got glowing eyes, though."

Her lack of knowledge did nothing to dampen his spirit. He sat back, face alight with excitement. Suddenly, he turned towards his sister. "Hey, hey Aerith! Wanna come with me and talk to that SOLDIER guy?"

"Gotta keep you from making a fool of yourself, don't I?" She sassed, eyebrow raised. Her own eyes were sparkling with excitement, though, and he grinned. They started shoveling food into their mouths with new enthusiasm, wanting to hurry up and finish before the man left. Their mother sighed, eating her food at a more sedate pace.

Meal done, the kids shot up, said goodbye, and hurriedly ran out.

Collecting the dished, Mrs. Fair called after them, "Don't bother that man too much! Stay safe!"

Thankfully, the man was still in town. They caught him as he was leaving the item shop, putting away a new bottle of Maiden's Kiss. The kids shared a look, giggling to themselves. Touch-Me's always got travelers good.

The man looked up at their approach. Aerith's breath caught in her throat; His eyes really did glow! He was so big, and his sword was really sharp and shiny! It was...a little scary, actually. She stepped a little closer to her brother.

Zack, on the other hand, didn't seem intimidated or frightened in the least. He was practically vibrating in excitent, bouncing in place. He asked, "Are you a SOLDIER?!"

The man blinked, and raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I am. You heard of us?"

Zack squealed. The man winced a little, and Aerith hit him lightly. He looked briefly apologetic, but went right back to his questioning. "Do you fight monsters with that sword?!"

The man nodded. Then, smirking, he pulled the sword off his back, showing it off to the two kids. They stared at it in awe. Suddenly, the man was under a barrage of dozens of questions. Even Aerith, with her previous fear forgotten, shot out question upon question. Everything from "How come your eyes can glow?" to "Have you ever fought a dragon?" and "Why do you have three belts?" The SOLDIER laughed, and answered all their questions with an ease that showed it probably wasn't the first time he'd been hounded by children.

After a lull in their questioning, the man chuckled, and said, "If you kids think I'm so cool, just wait until you see the General." They froze, and looked back at him with wide eyes. He blinked at them, and asked, "What, you never heard of General Sephiroth?"

"General Sephiroth?" Zack asked, breathless.

He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You kids seriously never heard of Sephiroth?" At the shakes of their heads, he whistled. He kneeled down to their level. "C'mere, listen closely..."

They did, leaning forward and listening with bated breath as the SOLDIER weaved the tale of the heroic General, the first SOLDIER. Only just barely older than them, and already leading the campaign against Wutai, Sephiroth was a master on the battlefield. Stories spread like wildfire of the Silver General, of his exploits on the battlefield and his prodigal prowess with a blade. The man described the Masamune, of how the General could wield a blade twice his size with more skill and grace than men with decades more experience. He explained how the General was practically a god of war with his genius strategies and strength to fight a whole army by himself and come out on top.

"...He once stabbed his sword into the ground, and it caused an earthquake so big that Mideel got hit with a tidal wave."

Aerith gasped. "No way!"

The man nodded. "Yeah, way."

Zack's mouth was wide open, amazement twinkling in his eyes. He snapped his mouth shut, determination setting his features, and said, "I wanna be a SOLDIER!" The man laughed, and ruffled his hair. He huffed. "I'm serious! How do you be one?"

"April 21st's the deadline to apply. Head up to Midgar, and recruitment posters'll be everywhere." The man answered, watching Zack with amusement. "Gotta be at least fourteen, though." Zack's face fell, and he pouted. The man laughed, and ruffled his hair again. Even Aerith giggled. The SOLDIER got up, then, and dusted his pants off. He gave Zack a assessing look. "Seriously, though. Grow up a little, and if you still think you got what it takes, then we'll be happy to have you."

Zack perked back up at that, and nodded resolutely. The man chuckled, and, wishing them both well, walked off, probably to finish whatever mission sent him there.

The children stood there for a moment, watching him walk past the outskirst and into the jungle. Zack watched him go in awe, clearly smitten with the heroism of SOLDIER. Aerith, though, frowned a little. She liked talking to that man, and thought he was pretty cool. Her intuition, though... Something about him set her nerves on end, made her feel uneasy. She glanced at her brother's starstruck expression, and hoped it was just the man himself that her intuition didn't trust. Her brother was obviously planning to go join SOLDIER, and she didn't want to feel this bad around him when that happened.

[carriagelamp]

April 2020 Book Review - Quarantine Brain Fry Edition

This month of quarantine was much more challenging for me that last March... I suppose because we’re really in the throws of it, and the “extended spring break” feel has worn off. Between general World Anxieties and the incredible challenges of trying to adapt my work into an online setting, my brain has been absolute mush -- and I have a feeling I’m not the only one. Most of my books this month are either very easy reads (comics and children’s novels) or rereads or both! Honestly, I’ve been playing a lot more Animal Crossing than I have been reading...

So the theme for this month of reading? Treat your brain to a rest, and go reread that favourite comic or picture book or graphic novel from when you were a kid. We don’t have libraries or book stores at the moment, so dig deep into your shelf for something you love that you haven’t touched in a while. Here’s what I read:

Ghost Hunters Adventure Club and the Mystery of the Grande Chateau

I’m going to start with best and most unexpected book that I read this month (although this is actually a New Book and not a reread, so maybe it’s a bad start). It’s a Hardy Boys parody novel, and yes it’s by the Game Grumps. The only reason I even found out it existed was because my brother heard about it and we decided that this would be our next Sibling Read Aloud. It made a great read aloud. I was rather skeptical at first, but it was genuinely very clever and very, very funny. There characters were fucking delightful, as they bumbled their way through the mystery, and we ended up accidentally reading almost half the book in one sitting because we couldn’t put it down once we got to endgame. If you like satire and Classic Youth Mystery then do yourself a favour and give this a go. I am desperate for a sequel.

ISHI: Simple Tips from a Solid Friend

A picture book that was recommended to some of the local elementary children who are dealing with isolation from school and their friends. Its beauty is in its simplicity. It shows Ishi, a very simple white stone, experience challenges that it must then find ways to cope with. Things like loneliness, feeling empty or scared, being sad... all things children (and adults, I very much appreciated this little story) may be experiencing. This is definitely a picture book, not a self-help book, but it’s still very encouraging and makes me want to go and create my own Ishi. There’s a reading of it is online, and if you’re feeling like having a solid stone friend reassure you, I would recommend going to listen to it!

Bone 1-5

So, the first in my long list of books that I reread: I’ve started rereading the Bone series for the first time in years. Hands down one of my all time favourite graphic novel series. If you haven’t read Bone, it’s a classic and one of the best example of American graphic novels imho. It’s about Fone Bone and his cousins who, after being driven out of Boneville by Phoney Bone’s money-grubbling stunts, have found themselves across a desert and in a strange, fantastical valley where nothing makes sense. The three of them get drawn into the strange mysteries and adventures of Thorn, her grandmother, and the village of Barrelhaven. Such a perfect blend of beautiful art, comedy and off-the-wall cartoon-level hijinks, as well as really intense, dark adventure and tension as the story unfolds.

Also created this sequence, which may be the funniest two panels ever drawn in a comic

Here Is Greenwood v1

A charming ‘90s manga from my stash that I decided to reread. Honestly one of my favourite feel-good mangas, because it’s such a simple, pure, good-hearted slice of life without some of the gimmicks that other manga use. It’s about Kazuya starting at an all-boys school partway into the year, and moving into the school’s dorms. The entire book is just about him being constantly pestered by the well-meaning characters that share the dorm with him. It’s just goofy and fun, and has the fantastic aesthetic of a good ‘90s manga. Also, it was one of those books that, while technically not ~queer~ was also ~queer enough~ for my deprived teenage soul.

Blood Of Elves

The fourth book of the Witcher series that I’ve finished. I’ll be honest, not my favourite. I really enjoyed the beginning, the whole espionage thing with Dandelion, and then Ciri with Geralt, the Kaer Morhen witchers, and Triss. That was all really fun. It felt like it dragged a lot more though after Ciri joined Yennefer... And yet I love Yennefer as a character, she is hilariously snide and clever and really sweet with Ciri. But it felt like a scene that could have been done in a couple chapters took up half the book. Maybe that’s just because, as I said, my brain was mush and I couldn’t deal with it. I have the next book and as soon as my brain doesn’t look like chicken noodle soup anymore I will be starting it!

The Mouse and the Motorcycle

You know I love a good animal adventure story, and this is one that I adored as a child. The story of Ralph, a young mouse living with his family in a rundown motel, and how he and a young human boy discover that they can understand each other through a shared passion for vehicles... in particular a red toy motorcycle. There’s just something heartwarming about Ralph racing around a motel on a tiny toy motorcycle that runs when he makes motorcycles noises. I’ll have to find the second one as soon as libraries are open again.

Kit: The Adventures of a Raccoon

Another animal adventure story from my childhood, although this one is more of a chapter book than a true novel. This is a book that I’ve been lowkey hunting for years and finally came across in a school library. It’s a more realistic look at what a raccoon’s life is like, from birth to adulthood. Rereading it, it’s not a particularly exciting book and wouldn’t have otherwise stood out to me, but there’s still something that calls to me. It’s very gentle and makes this raccoon’s growing and learning feel very soft and compassionate, even if there are tragedies and death.

A quick edit because it was only just now that I realized that this is a Canadian lit book! Always exciting to discover that a favourite is Canadian!

Calvin and Hobbes: Homicidal Psycho Jungle Cat

Calvin and Hobbes, yet one more bullet to add to the list of Comfort Comics that I’ve pulled out to keep my mind entertained while I can’t quite process Proper Novels. I doubt there’s anything I can say about Calvin and Hobbes that hasn’t already been said. You’ve either read these books already, and are nodding along with  me, or you haven’t and therefore are not a human being I can relate to.

Spy vs Spy

I dug out some of the old Spy vs Spy comics we had as kids. They’re basically falling to pieces, but it was fun -- like so many other books on this list -- to revisit something so familiar but which I haven’t looked at in years. These were a very odd experience to reread, because on one hand Spy vs Spy comics have such a simple, goofy premise it’s hard not to just grin and laugh while you read them, but also like... yup they sure are old and kinda ~problematique~ eh? Whatcha gonna do.

The Twisted Ones

The read aloud my brother and I did before Ghost Hunters, although we technically finished reading it at the very end of March, but too late for it to make that book roundup post. Look, I’m not going to defend myself here. Yes, I’ve read an obscene number of Five Nights at Freddy’s books. The first one of this series The Silver Eyes was honestly better than I would have expected. This sequel was not as good, unsurprisingly, but the main character is still so fucking bizarre, so different than the sort of protagonist I would normally expect from a series like this, that I can’t quite bring myself to stop reading them. And when I had a moment of Realization, about what might be in store for the third book, I genuinely screamed at my brother who was reading at the time. So yes. Somehow this youth horror is better than it has any right to be -- not good but better than it should be -- and yes I will be reading the third the second the libraries open again.

The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh

Another reread! This was a book I got as a birthday present when I was in... probably preschool? It’s a cross between a large picture book and a chapter book. It’s essentially a “novelization” of the original Disney movie, and it has such cute art to go along with it. Winnie the Pooh has always been a favourite of mine, and reading this old book was like a warm hug. Makes me want to see if I can get my VCR set up so I can watch that old movie again...

Frog and Toad Together

A friend found someone reading this book in a very asmr-style on youtube and recommended I listen because they found it super chill. And they were right! It is ridiculously chill. I’ve never read a Frog and Toad story before, but it’s really just a very cute old book that immediately launches you right back into grade one.

The BFG

This is my first time reading the BFG and it has all of Dahl’s usual charm and quirkiness. A young girl gets plucked out of an abusive orphanage by the Big Friendly Giant, who brings her to the terrifying Land Of Giants... all of which are bigger and crueller than the BFG, and who have an appetite for human flesh. It was quick and fun, and it’s always hard not to fall in love with Dahl’s sweet characters, especially this big eared, dream-catching giant.

[purplesurveys]

997

survey by deirdrelove

What is today’s date? October 26th.

Do you have any plans for tomorrow? Just work. All weekdays are for work.

Do you wear perfume or cologne? Usually, perfume. I have colognes too, but I like the scent of my main perfume far more so that’s what I choose to wear most of the time.

What kind of computer are you using? I have a Macbook Air.

What colour is your mouse? I haven’t used one in years. A trackpad has been reliable enough.

Is it sunny outside? It’s not. I’m not updated on the news but I think we’re supposed to have a really powerful typhoon pass by for the next few days, so the wind has been violent and howling all morning. Some of my co-workers have had power outages at home only used their mobile data today so yeah, it’s not looking too good. I’ve closed my windows for the meantime so that they don’t smash just in case the wind blows too hard.

What has the weather been like lately? It’s been very cold all weekend because of the rain, but it also gets humid every now and then. Still, it’s cold enough for me to turn off my fan all day which is good enough.

When was the last time you cried? Last night, I think.

When was the last time you sincerely smiled? I don’t remember. Maybe last night or yesterday afternoon.

When was the last time you laughed freely? I can’t tell you. I really can’t remember when the last time was. I’ve chuckled here and there, of course; it just hasn’t been hearty for a while now.

Do you eat breakfast regularly? No. I only have a cup of coffee so that I can get properly awake for workkk.

Do you take vitamins? Not regularly.

When was the last time you took aspirin or some other pain reliever? Saturday. I had a headache and was feeling a little dizzy so I had to take a Biogesic.

When did you learn to tie your shoes? Kinder 2, when I was five. One of our ‘exams’ was for the teachers to check if we can already tie our shoes, so my grandma had to teach me. I’m super awful with my hands though, and to this day I still struggle with tying my shoelaces and I still take longer than anyone I know.

What was your favourite grade in elementary school? 5th was fun until things fell apart by the end of it; 7th was great throughout.

Do you like clouds? I like when it’s cloudy, but I don’t lie on the ground and look at clouds.

What colour are your shoelaces? I have several shoes, but I think all of their shoelaces are white.

How many states have you been to? 0.

How many different countries have you been to? 6.

When was the last time you deeply regretted something? September.

Do you go to other people for advice or do you deal with things on your own? I like hearing what my friends have to think because whenever I’ve done things on my own I always fuck it up one way or another, and that sensation gets tiring at some point. Having other perspectives and voices helps as well.

How long was your longest relationship? 4 years.

What is your favourite brand of gum? I don’t have one considering they all lose their taste after a few chews. Whenever someone has gum and shares a piece with me, I just take it regardless of the brand.

What is something that you regularly wear that makes you stand out? I don’t know if I have anything like that. I hate standing out, anyway.

Do you own a debit card? Yuh.

A credit card? Nope.

Are you in debt? I am not.

When is your birthday? *sigh* Again, April 21st...

How old will you be? I’ll be 23.

What kind of cake is your favourite? Cheesecake! Flourless chocolate cakes and red velvet cakes are also great.

Do you prefer small birthday parties or big ones? For parties held by relatives I like them to be big, because it’s always nice to reunite with distant family members that I never get to see. With friends, small and intimate parties do the trick for me.

What song are you listening to now? No music, and I have a YouTube video paused.

Do you download illegal mp3's? I used to convert YouTube videos of audio tracks into MP3, if that counts. I never directly downloaded MP3s though; I always heard horror stories of those things containing viruses or the downloaded file not even storing the actual song.

What was the most traumatic experience of your life? [trigger warning] Being the main witness to my drunk grandfather beating the ever-living shit out of my infant cousin in his stupor when I was 9, and bearing the responsibility to tell that cousin’s mom, who was cooking dinner. I’m pretty sure I aged like 15 years from that moment alone.

Have you ever lost a friend to drugs or alcohol? No.

Who was your childhood best friend? Angela.

Are you still friends now? Yeah, for sure. I just asked her for dyeing tips an hour ago.

If not, why?

Are you sitting at a desk right now? Yes.

Are you eating or drinking? Nope, but I’ll be having dinner in about an hour or so.

How many surveys have you taken today? This is the first one.

Have you ever made a survey? No. I’m not the best in coming up with interesting random questions, so I’ve never given it a shot. Others are way better at it.

If you haven't you should. Its fun. =] I’m sure it is, but I really don’t think I’m creative enough for it.

Did you ever have any sort of collection? Nah.

Do you believe in Karma? I don’t subscribe to the entire concept as it’s defined in Hinduism, but yeah sometimes I’ll refer to its more informal description whenever someone does something that upsets me.

What do you thinks happens to us when we die? Permanent sleep.

What age do you think you'll die? My late relatives all passed between the ages of 70 to early 80s, so maybe by then. But idk, I hope I get my great-grandma’s longevity (she died at 95) because I’m still competitive when it comes to age and I wanna make it to that high a number, ha.

If you knew you had one more month to live what would you do? Well first I’d give out a sigh of relief because thank fuck. After that I’d probably spend the whole month eating all my favorite foods and traveling, at least to the cities that are now accepting visitors. I’d write down instructions for Kimi so that he’s properly cared for, give away my stuff, try to see some friends before it all ends.

About how long was the last book you read? It’s around 600 pages but I’m barely 50 pages in.

Have you read any books by V.C.Andrews? I don’t think so.

Have you ever read a play before? Yes.

A play not written by Shakespeare? Yes.

Have you ever read a play outside of school? Yeah, I have.

What is one career you don't think you could do no matter how much it paid? Engineer.

Would you want to live in the country or the city? City, without a doubt. I like the countryside and it’s certainly relaxing, but I need things to be constantly going on; I like my environment to be hectic, be loud, be busy. Too much quiet isn’t good for me.

Do you prefer large cities or small ones? Large.

Do you/Did you ride the school bus? Yep.

If not how did you get to school?

Do you have iTunes on your computer? Yeah but only because I’m on a Mac and I’m not sure if I can remove the app from my laptop. I haven’t used iTunes since high school though, and if I could I’d get rid of it.

Have you ever edited Wikipedia? Yeah, when I was like 10 lol. It wasn’t to mess around with an entry though; I saw an inaccuracy and genuinely wanted to help out.

Have you ever edited any other wiki? I’m sure I edited more than one page.

Is there a website [besides social networking] that you check almost daily? I don’t think so.

Are you procrastinating? Nope, all my homework for the day’s been done.

Do/Did you make good grades in school? In college, yes. I paid less attention in high school and my grades occasionally showed it.

What is your relationship with your parents like? It’s very casual and not very deep at all. I don’t confide in them, and the thought actually makes me squirm. I’m still skeptical of my mom and I don’t let myself get invested in her after the hurt she’s put me through in the last few years, but at least we don’t yell at each other as much anymore.

Do you have a better relationship with one parent than the other? You can say that. I get along better with my dad.

Do you look like your mom or your dad? Mom. But for some friends, my dad.

Do you write things on your hand to remind yourself? This is what I did in high school, but I haven’t done it since.

Do you use your phone as an alarm? If I need an alarm, yes.

Do you listen to music while you sleep? Nope, but similar. I turn on videos because talking sounds make me sleepy much faster.

Do you get scared when you know some virus or sickness is being passed? I mean if it’s like a plague then yeah, obviously. But to connect this question to today’s situation - after getting used to Covid stats and seeing the ratio of those who die from it vs those who end up healing from it, I’ve highkey stopped being afraid of it lol

Are you realistic? Yes.

Do you sing in the shower? Nope.

[dragonpiango]

My review of 2019

January:

So I recently graduated from community college in the previous December, and I started university at HT with a scholarship for piano performance. Honestly I thought going to a HBCU was going to be weird, but turns out I’m not much of an outcast. It was a nice transition to a new setting and new people and a breath of fresh air! It was amazing having a practice room to myself and the mental thought of “getting to know my music” became a reality although my first piano lesson with my new professor was strange. His impression of me was way different than what I thought. Although he is a outstanding teacher, he might have overthought what I was capable of.... him assigning me my pieces and they consisted of Bach French suite No. 5 in G Major, Mozart sonata K.332 in F Major, Chopin Nocturne in D-flat Major, Chopin Scherzo No.2 in b-flat minor, and the most memorable piece IMHO Ravel’s Une Barque Sur L’Ocean from Miroirs.

February:

So still settling into a new university and meeting new people (although I just stayed in the music building bc that’s where all my classes were) it was Black History Month. Being apart of the choir at school and the only ensemble they offered, we were pretty busy with a lot of performances BUT it was enlightening too. Everyone has been so welcoming and coming from a background in classical music I’ve been introduced to Gospel music not only for voice, but piano. From accompanying spirituals to gospel it really has opened my eyes that music doesn’t have to be so strict. It is a way of expressing emotions and from then on I took my repertoire more seriously in the sense each piece had its own “character.”

March:

This month is a crucial one, not only did I find my “clique” at school, but they only consisted of two people. Ant and KayP. Not going to use their names but these two were the only two that understood who I was and I understood who they were. We might have drifted a little bit since one has graduated but in the mean time, during these few months, have been my shoulder to cry on. They were very talented vocalist who taught me a lot in the sense of accompanying and vice versa. Since our school is small, our “accompanist” was my piano teacher, so every rehearsal was around his schedule, until I came into the picture. They really pushed me to get out of my comfort zone and really get me to where I need to be. During this time, I was still working retail and I have a true appreciation for those who commit full time to retail because lemme tell y’all. That shit is a lot of work. Especially around holidays. Balancing out school and work was a struggle, but I managed through especially when I don’t have a piano at home. I have to go to school to practice and with retail, all my extra time would be working.

April:

By this time, everyone is stressing because of finals, but luckily since I grabbed an associates degree from COmmunity college, I didn’t have to take my core classes and cry. Music classes were all my focuses were on especially performance. I had a few performances in between for our seminar where we perform in front of all the music students, and for me, being a pianist, I didn’t have to rely on my teacher for rehearsals and accompanying. I just focused on me and this got me ready for our benefit concert that I was honored to be a part of. KayP being the current Miss HBCU and queen of the school, decided to raise money for students of troubled pasts who have really turned their lives around in college and made a great GPA would be rewarded with scholarship money that we raised. I was the one who got to close the whole show out and it truly was an amazing experience. Being able to perform for a great cause is always heart warming and I will cherish that moment forever.

May:

So the semester comes to an end and I have juries (where we perform our pieces in front of the faculty and get graded ) what I did not know is that since our school is so small, they invite and pay other professors from the biggest university next to us UT Austin and have them come sit and grade us as well. That to me was a shock moment, because coming from a university in a small town before we had enough people and knew everyone. Community college DIDNT have juries for piano which was odd, but this was a perfect opportunity to really put my hard work into good use. After juries, I did splendid with a few mistakes that I was able to recover from, and lemme tell y’all. No performance is perfect. And I have accepted that. My piano teacher hooked me up with one of his good friends who owns and directs her own music school and I became a piano teacher there. Oddly, I’m the youngest teacher there with no doctoral degree and am working on a BA still..... but none the less, this transition really opened my eyes.

June:

School is finally out, and I reduced my retail job to just Saturday. I finally got my reputation as a teacher at my new job and gained students rather quickly to where I was almost booked up Monday through Friday. With little to no teaching experience it was a trial and error process. I was taking over a studio of a former teacher who had visa issues. So all his students were a tad skeptical with me more so their parents. But after observing lessons and learning their names it was only a matter of time that I was teaching them and really became someone they look up to. It started off rocky because I wasn’t used to a build your own schedule, from what I’ve experienced with teaching at a music school is that someone does the schedule for you. Not in this case, so having to communicate and try to accommodate every students schedule was a tough start, but once I got used to it, the ride was easy from there. Unfortunately, most students were gone on vacation so I had to work with only a few who stayed in town and accommodate those who were in town for that week. That aside, my communication improved after constantly talking with parents 24/7.

July:

This is where life gets exciting. My boyfriend had surprised me with tickets to go to Chicago. I would go back because the city is amazing and food is delicious and it’s easy to get around in Chicago. It was a nice break from work and really helped me bond with my partner. During this time we had two cats. One names Roger and the other Gladys. So a little back story, when I moved in with my partner, his cats basically adopted me. Gladys was a daddy’s girl and kept to Todd mostly but she was very seeet with me and made adorable monkey noises when you picked her up and cuddled with her. She was diagnosed with cancer and the year before that we made the decision to remove her tumor and hope that she would live a healthy life. Well this is where the tumor came back full force and in Chicago, I was a wreck because I felt bad enjoying my time away and leaving her at home. My partner (who is the mature one in our relationship) had a sit down with me about what to do with her and I lost it. He didn’t want to put her down either, but it was for the best. We agreed to keep her comfortable until we knew it was time. Before the month ends tho, we are back home and my sisters boyfriend sends me a text saying he is serious about her and wants to marry her. The retail I work for is a jewelry store and he had asked me to help pick out a diamond for my sister since he knew what she wanted. So this was the good news. We find the diamond, and have it set in her favorite setting and my boyfriend who is full of surprises gets me a ticket to visit her in LA.

August:

So my birthday month is here, and I fly out to LA to deliver the ring to my now sisters fiancé and they fly out to Italy and he does the deed and she says yes. Happy note. But as school starts back up for the new semester, my partner had a issue to where he would be in a state to where he couldn’t move much due to a unusual circumstance. And before that we decided to put Gladys down. It was a tough decision but we gave her the best life we could ever had hoped for her and I was emotionally drained from everything. Having to keep a positive attitude for my students and going to school and being an adult in general. The only way I got thru this period is from my best friend and coworker who knows what it’s like to go through life and it’s always better to have an open mind and ear to talk to. I call her my mamma because she’s like a mother figure to me but also a amazing friend. Without her, I probably wouldn’t have been mentally there at all for anyone. In the time of summer until now I haven’t had a chance to practice because I forgot to mention that i had a Jr recital coming up which is why my repertoire was so big.

September:

After everything passed and I’m in a better mental state, I proceed to my schedule of school and work and find a time to practice in between. What’s great about this month is that since the semester just started, I had plenty of time to catch up on my practice and really get my lessons to become productive in shaping and understanding different musical styles. My partner is all better and life is great because I was in the best part of my life. Doing well in school, amazing texting job, and a best friend who is there for me and most importantly my partner. He’s been my rock since we first met and I can always rely on him and vice versa. He understood that with my free day off that I needed to spend it practicing and told me to go for it and be as productive as I can. I honestly wasn’t used to that kind of support but I am grateful.

October:

This is where reality hits and my recital is next month. I get very crazy about everything. I had all my music learned but because of my indecisiveness, I kept changing how I shaped everything and my mind goes blank. Probably a dark time for me because I didn’t know how to handle this kind of stress. I’ve put on hour long recitals before and the only thing different this time is that I’m getting graded and want to make such a great impression to further my education to a dictator degree. The dress was eating me alive and on top of that, one of my students decided he wants to enter in a competition and I say why not. Let’s do it. Getting him ready for that and keeping my sanity was hard to do but I managed. He did well, but not well enough to get a medal but his parents were very impressed with how quickly he progressed with me. That’s always a plus, right?

November:

The month has come for me to have my big recital and I invited all my friends and coworkers and they all made it. I was truly nervous but if you don’t get nervous, are you even human? It turned out wonderful although the first piece (Bach French suite) was shaky, I had to tell my self that I was having fun and everyone here is here to support me and want me to do well. That little talk was a confidence booster and ended the recital flawlessly. After my recital, my job has their student recitals so my focus was all on my students doing the best they can and having fun. This month was fun because I was selected to do masterclasses for piano students through out my job and it was very enlightening to see how talented the new generation of musicians are! Only positive comments because I couldn’t honestly find anything wrong with any of the students performances and their teachers are amazing.

December:

So getting all my students ready for their recital was a big time investment but totally worth it because they all performed so well and I honestly cried bc I felt like a proud parent LOL. But after that was time for the semester to end up and one class was making me go crazy. Everything ended well and I had ALL A’s and one B but I know what to expect for next semester and everything will be great. Honestly this year has me all sorts of fucked up with emotions and I proved to myself that when I stay committed, I can really achieve what I want. This year was a great year for me and a way to end a decade because when 2020 starts, I know what I need to do and where I need to be.

[sun-to-my-luna]

₮ⱧɆ ₩ⱧØ ₣łⱠɆ₴ 🔓

September 15, 2017:

 the pursuit.

Part.1

Introduction:

(T.W.G Jr.)

Age: 36

Born: Los Angeles, CA.

(And yes, I know I just said 36 years old, because that’s how old he really is.)

We’re going to be talking about the infamous “leaked ID.”

Many  people were skeptical when the “I.D” was leaked in 2017, as they should be but in this case there are many reasons to believe the legitimacy of it. If you don’t already do.  Let me just say something that’s really important. It’s not uncommon for a celebrity to change their name & it’s not uncommon for a celebrity to lie about things including things about their everyday life. In fact here’s a list of celebrities that lied about themselves:  https://www.ranker.com/list/celebrities-who-lied-about-their-ages/donn-saylor.

If you were to ask Siri/Google how old T.D.S is right now they  will answer you,

Even websites will tell you that he is 33 years old.

But is he really? Because if that were the case that would make him the younger brother, and his younger brother would actually be older than him.  Which leads me into my next section.

 One has a suffix added onto the name  and one does not. Their names are completely identical, the date of birth are exactly the same. Both say they were born on April 13th, except the years were altered. Still don’t believe me when I say that they’re same  person? Here’s what an article said on the day that Dolly was publicly charged with cocaine and weed charges.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jYKBYqZtA4o

His lawyer even said his actual age himself.

He is the only (T. W. G, 36 ) apart from his father (60)  in the state of California, and if you add the suffix (jr.) in he doesn’t exist.

So, my question is why haven’t they fixed that yet?

PART 2.

I researched really hard to find information on him as an inmate, and as it turns out he was moved into a different correctional facility on the same lot.  Gabriel Griffin is 34 years old, and was convicted on two counts of attempted murder. Before that he was also charged in 2004 for openly  walking around with a weapon in public.  His name on the report that I used to find Dolly’s real name was spelt “Gabreal,” but it was definitely Dolly’s younger brother, since the court cases included in the report matched  the inmate named Gabriel Griffin.

Why am I mentioning this? Because the court in the video above makes it seem like he doesn’t have a criminal record when he does, and he called him “Mr. Griffin” not “Mr. Griffin Jr.”

Now that we established that “TWGJR” and “TWG” are the same person, let’s talk about something.

In the video someone says he was only stopped for having an expired license. Followed by his lawyer  making it seem like he’s this innocent person that made a small violation.

However,

In 2003 at the age of 21:

1. He exceeded  the speed limit which is 70 mph in California.

2. His license was suspended while he was driving faster than 70 mph.

3.  He willingly violated his written promise to his lawful continuance to appear in court or before a person authorized to receive a deposit of bail.

  Which means he;

A) didn’t appear in court again when he should have

B) he didn’t go to an authorized person to deposit his bail. Which was $15,000.

In the video they mention that  the incident in  2011 was his only misdemeanor   with a suspended license but that wasn’t the first time it happened.  If we include his other acts (beating up someone at a night club, getting arrested for drugs, obstruction of traffic, and allegedly  assaulting a fan) that he hasn’t been charged for he has quite the criminal ego if you ask me. 

  https://www.tmz.com/2017/09/25/ty-dolla-sign-yg-threatened-lawsuit-over-nightclub-beating/

https://www.tmz.com/2018/09/07/ty-dolla-sign-arrest-video-skrillex-weed-cocaine-bust/

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZgwBod3Dsa4&list=UUK7IIV6Q2junGSdYK3BmZMg&index=1773

https://www.tmz.com/2015/01/30/ty-dolla-sign-yg-fight-assault-kicked-fan-head-club/

https://www.tmz.com/2014/11/13/ty-dolla-sign-marijuana-tour-bus-drug-bust-pot-hash/

There’s no wonder they chose Lauren to cover his ass.

(edit:)

There’s also a court case in Georgia that had a TWG involved in a gang related crime with drugs. The person that leaked  the ID subtly mentioned  Dolly being a part of a gang. Which might not be too far off  considering that like her brother, 👼🏆   in 2007  got a misdemeanor charge in Virginia for speeding and reckless driving above the speed limit (80mph). The states Georgia and Virginia are not that far apart, and being that TWG was charged with drugs in 2018. I’d say that whoever leaked the I.D wanted us to know something.

What do you think?                  

[didanawisgi]

“As a student of history and human nature, I know many fear what they do not understand. I am also keenly aware of the possibilities, that may repeat themselves, should a Citizenry whose degree of liberty and freedoms, never before seen in known human history, ever forfeit their ability to defend, by force if ever necessary, those same freedoms and liberties that allow them life, liberty, and to pursue those joyous experiences that represent peak experiences of the human condition.

History teaches us that people who wield power must be tempered. Plato’s idea of the Philosopher King was such that a King whom, essentially, learning of the several liberal arts and sciences, and becoming closer to God and Nature, and understanding Natural Law, would be embodied with compassion and wisdom and other qualities quintessential for successful and benevolent rulership. But as the currents of time flow in one direction, so too does the truth. As it turns out, this is not enough. Francis Bacon’s ‘New Atlantis’ was a place influenced by an academy known as the House of Solomon, a mythical place where humankind will meet its greatest potential. This place is America; the Novus ordo seclorum (New order of the ages). This order, a Republic founded in the principles of the Constitution, is a system devised to benefit all within its borders; a permanent ‘Philosopher King’ found only in a text that allows America (possibly named after the Merica, the Mandaean Star of Venus, and consort to the King/Pharaoh) to not suffer as our ancestors have, and has allowed each successive generation incrementally more freedom, more well-being, and more opportunity, should we take it. This is not to say we don’t have our modern day challenges. But it is the Second Amendment in the Bill of Rights, not granted by Government, but by God (the philosophical Natural Law), the intrinsic cosmic consciousness and Architect of the Universe, that ensures us at least the opportunity to defend the natural evolution of Liberty and Freedom, and to stop those who would seek to destroy it or take it away from us; for tyranny historically springs forth from the well intended initially. This is perhaps why, in terms of importance, it is the second, after the Amendment which protects our freedom of thought and the ability to communicate those thoughts; the ability to stand up and act, by force if necessary, against forms of Tyranny which throughout the course of Human history has unfortunately, enjoyed many appearances.

Nowhere on Earth is there a ‘Bill of Rights’ so comprehensive with a philosophy founded in Natural Law. This ethos or emergent ethic has its origins in the Judeo-Christian traditions (which can be traced all the way back to Sumeria). This emergent ethic is centered around the individual, which is the most appropriate and logical way to approximate fairness and true freedom in such a large scale as a Nation. The Ethos of America, the cultural identity and source of our greatness, stems from these concepts. This uniqueness in American history does influence us today, particularly those who believe the Second Amendment exists to limit the power of the Federal Government (as the rest of the Amendments do) and to protect our Liberty and personal Freedom henceforth and for posterity; for in a crisis, many times you may be the only one to rely on. It is a matter of individual responsibility. The individual consciousness as the Logos, which carries with it the power to manifest good and evil, heaven and hell, life and death. We require the freedom to think, as is our God given Right, (and therefore Speech, because the thought comes first) in order to manifest our own destiny (I call it the Right to Logos), to develop this inner voice. From our fruits shall ye know us.  In order to maintain this Right to Logos, the American ethic of individualism, (which is an ‘emergent ethic’ in its highest form), necessitates you take responsibility for all aspects of your life. Respecting the Individual is of paramount importance in this ethic, which the Bill of Rights attempts to enshrine in the Constitution, in the sense that it is the only proper level for analysis and prescription, of laws, philosophy and political affect. Herein lies my first issue with things like gun control, censorship, prohibition laws in general, and other laws and ideas that seek to control the evolution of the individual.  

Another problem I have with gun control in particular, is that it is deeply rooted in racism, if you examine history keenly.  Huey P Newton, co-founder of the Black Panther Party in the 60′s once said, “The policemen or soldiers are only a gun in the establishments hand. They make the racist secure in his racism.” It is true that, if you study history, you will find that gun control is rooted in racism and government sanctioned murder. You don’t even have to leave America to see this. Think of what instigated the events at Wounded Knee, which was a failed and illegal attempt of government to secure/confiscate the rifles of natives. Hundreds were murdered…  

Attorney Ralph Sherman has, what I think, is a good synopsis of this argument. This was written in 1999:

Legal Opinion by  Atty. Ralph D. Sherman April 1999 Blacks and the right to bear arms It’s time to resume my discussion of the history and meaning of the Second Amendment (as requested by several readers). One of the myths that you hear from the gun-ban crowd is that the U.S. Supreme Court has “never” said the Second Amendment guarantees every individual the right to keep and bear arms. Our deceitful President would like you to believe that your right to firearms has something to do with duck hunting. There are several reasons that Handgun Control and company don’t want you to know the truth. One reason is that when you research what the Supreme Court has actually said, you quickly find that “gun control” laws are rooted in racism. Wait. I haven’t turned into some kind of conspiracy nut. If somebody had told me 15 years ago that “gun control” and racial discrimination are inseparably linked in the history of the United States, I would have been skeptical, too. After I started to read some of the old cases and statutes, however, I saw that it is impossible to reach any other conclusion. (In fact I recently gave a talk at UConn on the connections between “gun control” and racial, economic, and sexual discrimination.) Anyone who studies the history of the United States in the 19th Century comes across the Supreme Court case known as the Dred Scott decision. The correct title of the case is Scott v. Sandford (1856), and you can find it in any law library. Usually the case is studied because of its bearing on the status of blacks. Today the Dred Scott case is infamous, a good example of how the Supreme Court can be dead wrong. Dred Scott himself was a free black. The Supreme Court was asked to decide whether a free black was a citizen, entitled to the full protection of the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, and other laws of the United States. The court held that blacks were not citizens, because the founding fathers didn’t have blacks in mind when the Constitution was written. This is no longer the law of our country, thank goodness, because even the Supreme Court corrects its errors, if given enough time. But the Dred Scott case is still important because it is one of the first cases in which the Supreme Court gave its view of the Second Amendment. In this column I don’t have space to discuss most of the decision. But here’s the critical section. The court found it unthinkable that blacks could be considered citizens, because: “[If black people were] entitled to the privileges and immunities of citizens, it would exempt them from the operation of the special laws and from the police regulations which [Southern states] considered to be necessary for their own safety. It would give the persons of the negro race, who were recognized as citizens in any one State of the Union…the full liberty of speech in public and in private upon all subjects upon which its own citizens might speak; to hold public meetings upon political affairs, and to keep and carry arms wherever they went. And all of this would be done in the face of the subject race of the same color, both free and slaves, inevitably producing discontent and insubordination among them, and endangering the peace and safety of the State.” The “special laws” mentioned by the court are the Black Codes, drafted to keep blacks down even if they became free. Essential to the Black Code of every Southern state was a law prohibiting blacks from owning firearms - a total gun ban for blacks only. The “full liberty of speech” is the court’s reference to the right of free speech, guaranteed by the First Amendment. The freedom “to hold public meetings upon political affairs” likewise refers to the First Amendment. And the right “to keep and carry arms wherever they went” - I don’t have to tell you where the Supreme Court found that one. But you can see the meaning as plain as day, in the words of the U.S. Supreme Court. Because of dissatisfaction with the court’s ruling that blacks weren’t citizens, Congress eventually passed the 14th Amendment. This also is quite relevant to the right to keep and bear arms, and anyone who reads this column needs to know why. I’ll explain in a future column. (Source: ralphdsherman.com)

Much of the “black codes” apropos possession of guns, are rehashed in contemporary fashion; except now, the codes are tailored for everyone, not just black people.  If my point has not been made well enough, I shall tell you a story of the only Coup D’Etat in U.S. History:  “A mob of white supremacists armed with rifles and pistols marched on City Hall in Wilmington, N.C., on Nov. 10 and overthrew the elected local government, forcing both black and white officials to resign and running many out of town. The coup was the culmination of a race riot in which whites torched the offices of a black newspaper and killed a number of black residents. No one is sure how many African-Americans died that day, but some estimates say as many as 90 were killed.” -https://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=93615391

What they neglect to mention is that the “black codes” had disarmed the populace, and they were ill-prepared for the slaughter.

Again, racial tensions are not as high today, and this occurred in the not-so-recent past, however the ugly memes of tribalism, which globally and historically have resulted in Warfare, discrimination, violence, racism, religious killings, terrorism etc. are thriving in some parts of the world, and because history, no matter how small the chance, potentially could repeat itself. To quote Fallout: “War, war never changes”.

“The world is not entirely governed by logic. Life itself involves some kind of violence and we have to choose the path of least violence.” -

The Mind of Mahatma Gandhi.

If you have ever been a victim of any crime, or hate crime, you know that it is a terrible ordeal, and that your peace of mind is disrupted.  These things can affect how you perceive the world. I find that many armchair philosophers often come from a highly privileged state of mind, a state that is developed overtime from a perch of relative safety; an Ivory Tower. They underestimate the rate of defensive uses of weapons and overestimate the rate of illegal, criminal acts with firearms, when in fact, according to the CDC, the rate is about equal, or even more defensive uses therefore counter-intuitively avoiding violence.

Defensive Use of Guns

“Defensive use of guns by crime victims is a common occurrence, although the exact number remains disputed (Cook and Ludwig, 1996; Kleck, 2001a). Almost all national survey estimates indicate that defensive gun uses by victims are at least as common as offensive uses by criminals, with estimates of annual uses ranging from about 500,000 to more than 3 million (Kleck, 2001a), in the context of about 300,000 violent crimes involving firearms in 2008 (BJS, 2010)…

A different issue is whether defensive uses of guns, however numerous or rare they may be, are effective in preventing injury to the gun-wielding crime victim. Studies that directly assessed the effect of actual defensive uses of guns (i.e., incidents in which a gun was “used” by the crime victim in the sense of attacking or threatening an offender) have found consistently lower injury rates among gun-using crime victims compared with victims who used other self-protective strategies (Kleck, 1988; Kleck and DeLone, 1993; Southwick, 2000; Tark and Kleck, 2004). - CDC,  Priorities for Research to Reduce the Threat of Firearm-Related Violence (2013)  https://www.nap.edu/read/18319/chapter/3#15

There is something to be said for the art of complete nonviolence, however this must be cultivated over time. Only two people I know of have mastered it; MLK and Gandhi. I do not doubt other examples can be found, however, it is extremely rare.

Just as one must learn the art of killing in the training for violence, so one must learn the art of dying in the training for nonviolence. Violence does not mean emancipation from fear, but discovering the means of combating the cause of fear. Nonviolence, on the other hand, has no cause for fear. The votary of nonviolence has to cultivate the capacity for sacrifice of the highest type in order to be free from fear. He recks not if he should lose his land, his wealth, his life. -

The Mind of Mahatma Gandhi

I want both the Hindus and Mussalmans to cultivate the cool courage to die without killing. But if one has not that courage, I want him to cultivate the art of killing and being killed rather than, in a cowardly manner, flee from danger. For the latter, in spite of his flight, does commit mental himsa. He flees because he has not the courage to be killed in the act of killing.

The Mind of Mahatma Gandhi

I suggest reading Sam Harris’ The Moral Landscape. He also has a piece called The Riddle of the Gun, which in my opinion is a good philosophical treatise on the issues surrounding guns, both morally and in terms of rational philosophy. Excerpt:

“Most of my friends do not own guns and never will. When asked to consider the possibility of keeping firearms for protection, they worry that the mere presence of them in their homes would put themselves and their families in danger. Can’t a gun go off by accident? Wouldn’t it be more likely to be used against them in an altercation with a criminal? I am surrounded by otherwise intelligent people who imagine that the ability to dial 911 is all the protection against violence a sane person ever needs.But, unlike my friends, I own several guns and train with them regularly. Every month or two, I spend a full day shooting with a highly qualified instructor. This is an expensive and time-consuming habit, but I view it as part of my responsibility as a gun owner. It is true that my work as a writer has added to my security concerns somewhat, but my involvement with guns goes back decades. I have always wanted to be able to protect myself and my family, and I have never had any illusions about how quickly the police can respond when called. I have expressed my views on self-defenseelsewhere. Suffice it to say, if a person enters your home for the purpose of harming you, you cannot reasonably expect the police to arrive in time to stop him. This is not the fault of the police—it is a problem of physics.Like most gun owners, I understand the ethical importance of guns and cannot honestly wish for a world without them. I suspect that sentiment will shock many readers. Wouldn’t any decent person wish for a world without guns? In my view, only someone who doesn’t understand violence could wish for such a world. A world without guns is one in which the most aggressive men can do more or less anything they want. It is a world in which a man with a knife can rape and murder a woman in the presence of a dozen witnesses, and none will find the courage to intervene. There have been cases of prison guards (who generally do not carry guns) helplessly standing by as one of their own was stabbed to death by a lone prisoner armed with an improvised blade. The hesitation of bystanders in these situations makes perfect sense—and “diffusion of responsibility” has little to do with it. The fantasies of many martial artists aside, to go unarmed against a person with a knife is to put oneself in very real peril, regardless of one’s training. The same can be said of attacks involving multiple assailants. A world without guns is a world in which no man, not even a member of Seal Team Six, can reasonably expect to prevail over more than one determined attacker at a time. A world without guns, therefore, is one in which the advantages of youth, size, strength, aggression, and sheer numbers are almost always decisive. Who could be nostalgic for such a world?” - https://samharris.org/the-riddle-of-the-gun/ & https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I0DYpaLgWIo

We can try to “cultivate the cool courage to die without killing.”  But if you are not on that level, maintain your weapon, practice, and assert your Second Amendment Right, based in Natural Law, for the defense of yourself, family, community, and Liberty.”

- The Modern Alchemist

http://didanawisgi.tumblr.com/