#he's my new lanky rat man and i love him

[rockingthegraveyard]

thinking about jason’s jailtime in tmwsp and my exhaustion put me in a fugue state and made a dc oc

he somehow always is smoking now matter how many times his smokes are confinstated

i don’t know why he’s in jail, you don’t know why, the cops don’t know why, he’s just always in there

he talks almost exclusively about his own conspiracy theories 

he’s always losing his hat and tie somehow

receding hairline he combs forward to hide

[monstersandmaw]

Hello lovely friends and supporters! Thank you for your patience while I finish off this absolute behemoth of a story for you! You voted in the poll for a deep sea merman and a gn reader, so that is what I wrote for you.

All 13k words of it!

It's a new corner of my fantasy realms, with new characters I'm excited to introduce to you!

Content: gender neutral human reader becomes a part of a bandit gang made up of non-humans and struggles a little to find their place. On a new venture for the gang, the human becomes essential to the plan to smuggle a product from the Absolute Deep all the way to the capital, and in the process, they forge an unlikely relationship with a certain Deepfolk merman. Featuring some minor violence and threat to life, a near drowning, and mention of biting and very mild blood during nsfw, messy hand jobs and some oral, as well as some self-worth and self-deprecating humor on the human's part.

Wordcount: 13,324

Extract:

The storm had mostly blown itself into quiescence overnight, though the air was still thick with salt and the wind carried gusts of seawater thinned with errant raindrops that spattered onto your cheeks and dribbled down your collar until you shivered with almost every step.

There wasn’t another soul out on the main Cliff Road that stretched the length of the Saraghin Coast and then dipped inland to become other roads that headed towards the capital. After close to three miles of walking in the pre-dawn gloom, you'd begun to think this ‘Arnak’ wasn’t going to show. You’d also completely forgotten about Nil trailing you until you saw the faintest flicker of a shape out of the corner of your eye and your hand went to the blade snugged in against your hip on reflex.

A lanky figure emerged from behind a gnarled rowan tree on your right and stood regarding you, motionless, for three pounding heartbeats before sliding back behind it, and you exhaled shakily. 

“Bloody hell,” you hissed, not sure if they could hear you or not, but you suspected they weren’t human and probably had really good hearing. “You scared the shit out of me, Nil.”

Something like shards of glass scraping together sounded on the wind, and you shuddered again.

Another half a mile or so down the road had you certain the selkie was going to be a no-show, but just when you’d begun to entertain the idea of turning around and heading for a warming drink, and maybe a tumble in the sheets with that minotaur barkeep to warm you up even more, you caught sight of a figure sitting hunched on a rock ahead of you, with the spotted sealskin of a leopard seal selkie shimmering in the grey light of the waxing dawn.

“Took your fuckin’ time,” the huge man growled as he got to his feet at your approach. “Avis said ‘before dawn’.”

“You didn’t give her a point to meet me. I’ve been on the road since well before dawn, friend. Shall we go?” you said with a firm but not unfriendly smile.

He just rolled his dark eyes and turned away without a word.

The man was massive, and built like the boulder he’d been sitting on, with colossal shoulders and a soft middle that belied the strength underneath. His iron grey hair was tied back in a low bun, and sections of it drifted across his eyes in the wind. He could have been anywhere from his late twenties to his early sixties for all you knew. 

Your companion said nothing whatsoever to you until you reached a tiny, switchback path in the cliff a couple of miles later, where he abruptly stopped, gestured with one salt-tanned hand, and said, “Good luck, human. If you survive this and I ever see you again, I might buy you a drink at the Three Eyed Rat myself,” and walked off in the direction of Saltwater Bite without another word.

For a long moment, you stared after him with your heart thudding in your throat, but with a deep breath for courage, and the knowledge that there was probably a shadow-less creature within earshot to help out if you got into trouble, you turned your attention to the cove below.

The slate grey sea still churned with the remnants of the storm, waves shouldering their way up the beach and raking their foaming wake down the gritty shingle shore in a relentless rhythm, but there was no sign of anyone down there. The whole thing felt horribly like a setup, but you tried to tell yourself that Avis and her crew liked you by now, and you had your uses too. You filled a niche in the group that no one else could. She wouldn’t give you up to the authorities or to a spy or even a rival crew so easily.

You hoped.

The switchback path took a while to navigate safely, and by the time you had made it to the bottom, the sun had just started to rise above the horizon, way out to sea. It cast a weak, silvered-bronze look to the water and to the wet, dark rocks, and made each of the pebbles beneath your boots glint like lost diamonds from a shipwreck. You picked one up and turned the ordinary stone over in your hand before lobbing it as far as you could out into the water.

The flat, bottom half of an empty oyster shell caught the light and you stooped to pick that up next, fitting it into the curve of your index finger and flicking your wrist so that it skimmed the waves. Well, it skipped twice, and then chopped into the waves and flipped over, disappearing out of sight beneath the water.

“Are you Avis’ human?”

The grinding, scraping voice came from the rocks somewhere to your left and you all but screeched in surprise. Your whole body jolted and you whipped your head around to stare at the rocks, but there was no one there.

“I’m not anyone’s human,” you fired back, defensive mostly out of surprise rather than any real outrage. “Where are you?”

A coarse, slightly wheezy laugh was your only reply for a moment, then, making a small bow-wave ahead of them in the water, a hand appeared around the rock.

The skin was grey and speckled, but it looked almost chitinous, and it reminded you of the kind of fancy gauntlets the armoured knights wore at jousting tourneys. As more of it appeared, you followed the line of that muscular arm, up its body to a shoulder that was equally armoured, with spiked protrusions like a fantastical pauldron, until the figure pulled itself around the boulder in the water and regarded you from pale, almost blind-looking eyes. 

The creature before you was like nothing you’d ever seen. If a sea dragon had mated with a shark, its offspring might have come close to this, but there was something of the monstrous merrow in their clearly bipedal body, and behind them in the water, like the spined tail of a sahaugin, floated a thick tail.

Your jaw must have been hanging open because the creature laughed that shattered glass laugh again and you blinked yourself back to the moment.

They had no real lips, only a slightly pinkish mouth that showed a double row of teeth, again like a shark’s, and they cocked their wedge-shaped head curiously at you. “Shark got your tongue, little human?” the creature snickered. “You weren’t expecting one of the Deepfolk in person then, eh?”

“I…” you faltered. “Forgive me,” you croaked, forcing yourself to speak. “It’s not often I find myself completely lost for words. And you’re right. I thought perhaps another selkie, or one of the shallower-dwelling merfolk would be here to deliver Avis’ shipment.”

“I’ve brought it personally for you,” the Deepfolk grinned, showing off all those teeth. It shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was to have a predator leer at you like that from the water, but it was what it was, and you hid it as best you could. “Are you going to come in and get it?”

Read all 13k words of it over on Patreon right now!

[anamelessfool]

For One Creature's Sake (pt 2 of 2) P1

(AO3 Link) GEN | Primo & Young Copia

Submitted to @cirrus-ghoulette Whump Month Prompt. June 10: "Stay? Please?"

Family Drama, Phobias, Young Characters, Brotherly Affection, Caring, Family Bonds, Time Skips, Sickbed, Hospice Care, Curses, Hurt/Comfort

Even monsters need love, don't they?

PSA in my AU the Ghost Project timeline is much earlier. 1969-1972, 1996--ongoing.

2001

Primo lately had taken on a sallow gray color. The veins radiating from his white Infernal Eye were black, angry, twisting across his face and down his neck and arms like cruel lightning. When Brother Copia had visited him Primo was either boiling hot and soaked with sweat, or nearly frozen to the touch. A few months ago Primo had climbed into bed and since then he had not gotten up on his own.

“Primo?” Copia put on a cheery voice, walking deeper into the room with a tray of food and fresh flowers. “Primo, I’m here! Coming closer.” He narrated his actions, since recently Primo confessed he was losing his sight too. He carried the tray carefully across the room, resting it on the side table. “Lunch, soup and a half cucumber sandwich. All from your garden of course. It’s still doing well. Shall I…shall I help you up?”

“I would like that,” said Primo. He coughed and stirred. Copia pulled him up by the shoulders, adjusting the pillows behind him. Today Primo felt clammy but not uncomfortably so. The man grunted his appreciation, settling into his new upright position. “How are you today?”

“I should be asking you that.” Brother Copia gave him one of his shy smiles. He was a mousey, lanky young brother of sin in his mid-twenties, with a weirdly elegant ski-slope of a nose and a soft smattering of freckles. His fingers twitched excitedly as he spoke. He replaced the wilted flowers on the bedside table with new pink fluffy peonies from Primo’s well-tended garden.

Primo coughed a laugh. “I don’t change too much from day to day. You said there’s soup, sandwich?”

Copia brought the tray to Primo’s lap and cut small pieces of the sandwich for him, putting them in his hand piece by piece, chattering with the older man about the random goings on in the Ministry. What the new gardener was planting, Terzo’s latest weird project. If Sister had finally killed Nihil yet (she hadn’t). Copia carefully helped ladle soup into Primo’s mouth and showed off his little sling bag strapped across his chest.

“Rat carrier. It was crocheted as a gift for me,” Copia explained. He moved the tray of dishes away, and helped Primo wipe his mouth. “By Sister Alice.” He opened the drawstring and a black rat’s head emerged, its nose twitching. Copia scratched the creature’s cheek and it let out an appreciative squeak.

“Oh yes, and how is she?”

Copia frowned and he hoped Primo didn’t notice. “I'm afraid we're no more,” Copia muttered. “She…um…said it was her, not me. I don't really know what that means.”

“You’ll find the one,” Primo said, smiling. “Who do you have with you today, Copia?”

“Aramis,” said Copia. He placed the large black rat in Primo’s lap, guiding his hand to rest on the soft glossy fur. “The largest of the brothers.”

“He is quite a big one!” chuckled Primo.

“He eats Porthos and Athos’ food constantly,” Copia sighed. “But it makes him too sleepy to get into trouble, so it ah…all evens out.”

“You used to be so terrified of rats.”

“I don’t remember ever being scared of them.” Copia watched Aramis in Primo’s hand with fatherly pride. “They have little hands, how could you be afraid of them?”

Primo laughed aloud, and Copia gave him a confused look, but joined in. They shared a few moments of mirth before Primo’s hoarse laughter petered off into rattling coughs. Copia grabbed Aramis, who was fleeing from Primo’s lap, and dropped the rat on his own shoulder. He brought a cup of water over to Primo, helping him drink.

There was a tense silence. Copia pet Aramis, and the rat’s soft fur and happily twitching tail calmed him. But the lingering dark cloud had settled in on their afternoon.

“Secundo is now Papa Emeritus…and it seems like Terzo will be next.” Copia swallowed. “You don’t think Sister would um…would pick me for the Ghost Project, would she?”

“And why not? You have exceptional musical talent, Copia.”

“Yes, but…erm…I don't…I worry—”

“You don't want to end up like me,��� Primo interrupted, a sarcastic expression on his face. “Maybe by your time you'll be stronger. More prepared. I lasted longer than the other three before me.”

“Three in eighteen months,” Copia whispered. “One died halfway through a set.”

“And I got through five years,” Primo said. “Some of the greatest five years of my life.” His chest swelled with air, and it seemed like the veins across his body throbbed painfully. “If I could meet my younger self and tell him all that I have accomplished, he would choose the same fate for himself. I assure you.”

“The Ghost Project is…something. We’ve never seen anything like it.” Copia sighed. “Expensive, volatile…dangerous.”

“Yes, it’s the most Papa Emeritus has channeled the Void in centuries. But Sister has a plan. Sister…” Primo turned his head away from Copia, his near sightless eyes distant. He was always terrible at lying. “Sister knows best.”

Copia cleared his throat, changing the subject. “Did you want me to read to you this afternoon? Where were we in the book?” Copia pulled a thin paperback from the side table drawer.

“Frankenstein's bride,” said Primo, his face cracking into a weak grin. “At least I remember that much.”

Copia smiled back, nestling Aramis in his lap. The huge black rat curled up and started to snooze. Copia opened the book, flicking the pages to where they left off. “Ah, yes, this is the monster speaking here… ‘If any being felt emotions of benevolence towards me, I should return them a hundred and a hundredfold; for that one creature's sake I would make peace with the whole kind! But I now indulge in dreams of bliss that cannot be realized. What I ask of you is reasonable and moderate; I demand a creature of another sex, but as hideous as myself; the gratification is small, but it is all that I can receive, and it shall content me…’’ Primo?” Copia caught his breath in his throat. “Primo, did you…fall asleep?”

“I’m here,” Primo replied. “I'm just…thinking.” He let out a rattling sigh. “Even monsters need love, don't they?”

“Of course.” Copia pet Aramis, smiling. “They need love most of all.”

Primo laid his head back, presumably staring up at the ceiling. It seemed like his mind was far away. Copia's earliest memories was of Primo’s broad smile, his good humor, his laughter. But one day Primo had stopped. Copia distinctly remembered moments where even his child brain felt that something inside his father figure had died. Some gray shadow faded the smile, some occurrence broke a piece of his heart off within him and it had painfully rattled there, trapped ever since.

“I'm sorry, Copia,” Primo finally said, his voice creaking. “I was miles away. You can keep going.”

Copia nodded, settling in. “Well then the monster continues. 'It is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another.’ “

“I think that is enough,” Primo muttered. “I’m tired. I cannot think about this.” He held out his hand and Copia took it.

“I’ll come by tonight, for dinner? We can finish it then.” Copia carefully herded Aramis back into the pouch, closing the drawstring. He stood up, placing his hand on Primo’s shoulder. Primo looked up, finding his eyes. Copia’s heart dropped but he managed a crooked smile.

“That would be excellent.”

“Would you be interested in coming to my organ practice tonight? If you are up for it.” Copia lowered Primo back onto the bed so he could get his afternoon nap in.

“I will see how I feel. I can have the nurse open the window. I can…sort of hear you play from here.”

“Right,” Copia said, wincing. He started backing away. “I’m leaving now. I hope you rest up. I…I care about you, Primo. Like…like a brother. Like a son.” His stomach turned. The slackness of his father figure, his adoptive brother as he lay there in bed felt like an ill omen. Something in him turned on, dark thoughts lapping at his feet like the encroaching tide. I need to prepare for this. One day Primo won’t be talking back.

He closed the door, and pretended he didn’t feel like the sound reminded him of a coffin lid.

Me on AO3!

If you're up for seeing some 70s era Dark Magic Noir, please subscribe to my AO3 or the "Scenes from the Void" Series there. This fic will be released very soon. Thank you!

[finniestoncrane]

I was curious, how were you first introduced to every Riddler you write for?

hmmmmmm ok let's see!! this is a fun question anon thank you ;-; most of them were sort of me going about my daily life and being bombarded with them by accident lol 💚

dano: my husband made me watch the batman because he remembered about the time i had a mental breakdown and thought i could solve the zodiac murders (i didn't) and i loved that stinky spherical man so much

arkham: then i was like "mmmm more riddler content please" and a lot of people really liked that horrible rat boy, and i remembered him briefly, more so the fact that he annoyed my husband when he was playing the arkham games, so then i got unhinged about him

gotham: i saw a lot of gotham stuff on my dashboard, mutuals/people i followed had that overlap love of dano and gotham so i knew i had to watch it myself for the lanky little angel that is gotham!eddie

capullo: his disgusting smirk and terrible sideburns captivated me. again he was a dashboard casualty. i see these boys once and my mind goes "that one there, that's the bastard now" so it's not really my decision

young justice: i'm so 100% sure it was @riddle-me-ri who showed me young!justice first! the best gift any friend has given me right???

twojar: the shibari edits made me curious, and sweet beloved ri made me obsessed

telltale: again, another dashboard casualty. but also, again, i think ri encouraged that obsession to grow lmao

unburied: i love when there's new media i can start fresh with, so unburied came out at the PERFECT time for me to get super duper hyperfixated on it

btaa: same with btaa, i love podcasts, so i knew i was going to listen to this one for sure!

i also have a love/appreciation/passing knowledge of hush, btas, the weird emo one, gorshin, OBD, the lil baby one from dc supergirls (?) and that red one! so i have plenty more beans to get to know u-u

[metalbuckaroo]

ALRIGHT! YOU WANTED AN AU THAT YOU HAVEN'T DONE YET AND I AM HERE TO PROVIDE! HOW ABOUT A LITTLE HORROR AU WITH BUCKY?!?

Got some prompts for ya, love!

“this is the opposite of what i told you to do.”

“did i ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are?” <-thought maybe you could do this one if they're hiding in a small space together 👀🥴

“that was, by far, the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”

Don't Listen

Summary// A cry for help has you stopping the car to check it out

Warnings// Usual horror movie warnings, mentions of violence, guns, weapons, injury, nightmares and death, could possibly be considered dark since it's horror movie themed (just in case I did tag it dark) there's a tinge of fluff in there, cursing.

AU// Horror Movie!AU x Cop!Bucky x Reader

Note// this was a lot of fun to write and I'm soooo happy that you had this idea 🥺 as always, requests and asks are open. Though this doesn't include smut, 18+ only

Masterlist

Moodboars by: @commonintrest

Just like every other Friday night after Bucky's shift, he took you with him on a drive on a backroad. The same back road as always, one that wound around and had houses that were a mile or more apart.

Windows down and light music playing to unwind from the long work week both of you dealt with.

"Wait-wait-" You grabbed Bucky's arm to stop him from pulling away from the stop sign. "What?" He sighed, looking over at you. "Did you hear that?"

Bucky nearly stopped breathing to stay quiet enough to hear what you were talking about, the only sound he could hear being the quiet music from the speakers and soft mechanical whirring of his left arm.

You could've swore you heard a woman's voice screaming from the abandoned house you drove by every week. The one that looked to, at one point in time, doubled as a junk yard from the rusted out cars that littered the back and front yard, along with the tree line in the back of the house.

He shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows at you. "I don't hear anything." He shrugged. You still didn't move your hand, listening intently.

Bucky nearly choked on his own spit when you suddenly got out of the car, making your way up the walkway to the run down house.

"Godda- what the hell are you doing?!" He barked after you, jamming the car in park and opening the glove compartment for his gun.

"How could you not hear that?" You huffed, trying to peak in the cracks of the boarded windows as Bucky secured his gun into the holster on his belt. "You going crazy on me? It's an abandoned house, babygirl." He said, gently gripping your wrist in the metal of his left hand.

"Then you won't mind going in to check it out, Deputy Barnes." You sassed, poking a finger into his chest at his title.

Bucky rolled his eyes, going to the door to twist the handle open; knowing it'd be useless to argue with you.

The house was completely dark, Bucky clicking on his flashlight to peer around the living room at the old, torn up furniture that was covered in dust and dirt.

He exhaled and turned back to you, seeing you chewing on your bottom lip. "See? It's just an old, vacant house." He assured, getting ignored as you pushed pass him. "Yeah, yeah." You dismissed, taking his flashlight to look for yourself.

Bucky followed close behind as you went towards the kitchen, different types of bugs and rats scattering when the light would land on them.

"C'mon, back in the car. Need to get ya home." He went to grab your arm again and you moved away to a door that was cracked open, a dim light peaking through. "Hey-" He let out an aggravated groan and followed you down the stairs that the door led to.

"This is the opposite of what I told you to do." He snapped, looking at your completely froze form at the bottom of the stairs.

When he reached the bottom, he looked into the lit room. Everything was completely new, stainless steel tables, glossy, concrete floors and plastic sheets on the walls.

"What the fuck..." Bucky grumbled, walking further into the room. There were different hallways, meaning the bottom of the house stretched much farther than the main part.

He looked over to your wide-eyed face, nudging your arm. "Go back to the car." He said softly, stepping further into the room. "What? No, I'm going with you." You said, furrowinf your eyebrows at him.

"You really are going crazy." He huffed, going to one of the hallways, your footsteps following close behind. "Are you still hearing- whatever it was you were hearing?" He asked, looking over his shoulder at you.

"No, but that doesn't mean that nobody is down here."

Peaking one of the doors halfway down the hall open, there was a dark closet on the other side; Bucky opening the door more to flick on the light. "Nothing." He exhaled, looking behind the door.

A sudden slam of a door made you suck in a sharp breath and grip onto Bucky's sturdy metal arm; both of you standing completely still.

A tall, slender man covered in blood stood by one of the sets of metal drawers, pulling out different sharp instruments and whistling an upbeat tune as Bucky shoved you into the closet with him. Shutting the door as quiet as possible.

"Shit..." He cursed under his breath, pressing the heel of his right palm into his forehead. "What are we gonna do?"

Bucky huffed a breath at your question and shook his head. "I don't know." He mumbled, looking at your scared expression. "You're the one with a metal arm and gun. Fucking do something." You blabbered before his hand clamped over your mouth.

"Shut the hell up, you're gonna get us killed." He hissed, staring down at you for a moment as he listened for any movement. "Did I ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are?" He said, squinting at you.

You swatted at his hand and huffed a breath. "Now is not the time." You mumbled, raking a hand through your hair to help think of how to get out of this situation. "This was, by far, the stupidest thing you've ever done." Bucky snapped in a hushed voice, cracking the door open so he could peak out.

"Do you see him?" Bucky nodded his head at your question, hand on the handle of his gun again, just in case as he shut the door again. "All of these hallways, there has to be another way out." He sighed, rubbing his metallic hand down his face.

"Maybe we can make a break for it down the hallway while he's not looking?" You shrugged, the nervous look on Bucky's face making you worry more and more. "No, that's a terrible idea."

The woman's voice you heard earlier echoed into the room, making you grab for the door handle. "What are you doing?" Bucky said in a whispered yell. "I hear someone, they need help, Buck." You choked out, trying to keep your voice quiet as you pulled at his metal hand that held the door shut.

The cry for help was close to driving you crazy, echoing into your ears as you pulled harder on his arm. How could he not hear it? It was so loud, the woman might as well have been in the room with you.

"Hey, sweetheart. C'mere." Bucky cooed, grabbing both of your hands in his left hand, his right lifting to hold your chin. "Don't listen to it. Okay? Don't listen to it." He muttered, trying to soothe your fidgety form. "Bucky, there's someone else down-"

The grip on your hands tightened when you tried to jerk them away from him. "We'll deal with it when we get outta here. Can't do anything if we're dead." He said through gritted teeth.

You were starting to panic more. Trapped in the basement of some house, no way to get to the phones or the car that was still parked at the side of the road outside.

"This is my fault, I should've never got out of the car. I'm so sorry, Bucky. I'm sorry." Bucky had to think fast to silence your quiet crying and apologies; to find a moment to think.

His lips found yours for a brief moment, making you turn your head to break away. "You idiot, this is not the time for that." You huffed, Bucky's hands going to the sides of your face.

If this was the last bit of time he had he needed you to know. "Sweetheart, listen to me. I love you, I never told you before because I'm a fucking idiot. But, I love you." He said quietly, steel blue eyes dancing back and forth as tears welled in your eyes.

"We're gonna die aren't we?" Your shaky voice broke his heart. He shook his head, looking down at you. "No, no. I promise, I won't let anything happen to you. I swear, I wont."

"What the hell do we do?" You exhaled, pressing the heels of your palms to your eyesockets. "I... I'm going to do something and I need you to run. As fast as you can, up the stairs. Don't worry about me. Okay? Just fucking run until you get to the car, get in and drive. I'll be fine."

It was finally your turn to look at him like he'd lost his mind. "You're fucking stupid if you think I'm leaving y-"

Bucky's hand left hand clamped over your mouth again when heavy footsteps started down the hallway, free hand clicking the light off.

You squeezed your eyes shut as the footsteps got closer, waiting for the moment the door was jerked open and all of it would be over, with so much that was left unsaid.

You let out a breath that had been trapped in your lungs when the footsteps passed the door, Bucky leaning to talk as quiet as he could in your ear. "You have to. Go to the station, a neighbors, anything. Just get out."

You nodded in agreement and he lowered his hand, taking his gun from the holster and opening the door.

Your heart pounded in your ears as he stepped into the hallway cautiously, gesturing for you to come out. "Straight to the car and drive away." He ordered, a loud slam of a door making both of you look back down the hallway.

"Bucky-" You started, going to grab his arm before he aimed at the lanky figured at the end of the hallway.

A single shot was let off, going straight into the man's chest; but he still didn't stop his long strides towards the two of you. "You can't escape." His ominous voice chuckled, echoing against the walls.

Bucky swallowed thickly and aimed again, firing each round into the sinister form before shoving the firearm back into it's designated spot and grabbing your shoulders. "Run."

Your eyes tore away from the menacing saunter the man kept as you darted towards the end of the hall where the large room started; Bucky following.

A loud, heart wrenching scream made your stomach churn, looking behind you to see the man pulling a knife from Bucky's side. You froze, not sure if you should try to help Bucky, or run for help as he grew closer to you.

A shake of Bucky's head as he fumbled back to his feet sent you up the stairs, a hand wrapping around your ankle and jerking your leg from under you; your chin smacking one of the wooden stairs making you whimper.

You blinked away the fuzzy feeling in your vision and gripped onto the splintering wood, pulling your body forward as you brought your knee up and rammed the bottom of your foot into his face; getting out of his grip long enough to climb the last of the stairs.

Jerking the front door open, you stumbled off the porch and down the driveway. The car was right there, nearly in your reach as your legs worked fast to carry you closer to it.

The keys were still in the ignition, but the engine wouldn't turn over; the starter clicking again and again as you sobbed and screamed for it to start.

Pounding on the steering wheel; you cursed and screamed before you gripped it as you took a deep, shaky breath, looking to where the two phones once sat in the cubby hole under the stereo. "Fuck!" You cried, pulling yourself from the car.

The front door was jerked open again, making you stop in your tracks and look to who it was.

"Buck-" you felt a tinge of relief paint over the fear that surged your veins, his once neat, clean uniform shirt now torn on his side and blood soaked. "Go! The woods! Go!" He barked, making his way down the broken down porch steps as fast as he could to follow behind you.

Lungs burning, tears streaking your face in fear for your best friend and legs threatening to give out each time your feet pounded against the dirt, you glanced over your shoulder to see where Bucky went; arms suddenly encasing your mid-section and pulling you to a near by tree.

A scream tried to rip from your chest, the familiar coolness of metal clasping over your lips stopping it. "Shhh!" Bucky hissed, bruises blooming on his face and blood coating his teeth from the cut on his lip.

Breathing heavily through your nose, you let your eyes close. The thundering of your heart making it hard to hear anything. "There's a neighboring house just outside the treeline. You can make it there." He said once he was sure there wasn't anyone close by.

"What about you?" You said once he moved his hand, voice shaky and hoarse from how raw your throat felt. "I'm gonna try. C'mon."

He pulled you along behind him, feet moving fast over logs and vines that littered the ground.

Bucky suddenly stopped, tugging you to go infront of him and urging you faster; the break in the woods getting closer and closer, finally walking into the neighboring yard.

A middle aged man answered your frantic knocking, shock and fear etching across his face at the sight on his front porch. "Deputy James Barnes, we need to use your phone." Bucky said holding his badge up.

A simple nod and he moved aside to let the two of you in; locking all of the locks on his door before going to where his home phone sat. "Honey! Can I get some help down here?! Sit down, my wife is a nurse, let her look at that." The man said, handing Bucky the phone and gesturing to one of the dining chairs.

"Are you okay? Do you need some water?" He asked, reaching a hand towards you. "Yes, please." You croaked out, still on edge that the man could come through the door at any moment.

"Oh, my god." A woman gasped from the bottom of the stairs. "What happened to the two of you?"

"Long story." Bucky groaned, letting her lift his uniform shirt to inspect the gash on his side. "I'm calling it in, we'll be outta here soon. Okay, sugar?" The promising look in Bucky's eyes added hope back into your heart. "Yeah."

Soon, ambulances and patrol cars filled the road, Bucky insisting on going with Steve and Sam to search the perimeter again; no matter how many times you protested. Only getting promises that it'd be fine as the paramedics ushered you to the ambulance.

Every second felt like an hour as you waited for the three men to appear back from the woods, Bucky limping this time as he walked to stand in front of you.

"Are you okay?" You said, lifting your hands to his blood and dirt covered cheeks, seeing him wince slightly. "I'm fine, we're fine." He said, giving a light smile and taking your hands in his, holding them to his chest. "You're staying with me tonight. Alright, babygirl?"

You gave a soft nod, pressing a tender kiss to his busted bottom lip before leaning your forehead against his. "'M so tired." You sighed, Bucky's hands moving to massage the tops of your sore thighs. "Can stay as long as you want and need."

______________

Two weeks passed, you still hadn't left Bucky's apartment to stay in your own. Every time you slept you could hear the woman's voice that hadn't been found; Bucky being right next to you when you'd force yourself awake seemed to help.

He never mentioned the incident after all of the reports and paperwork had been finished, he didn't want to bring back any memories you had managed to lock away.

But, he was worried, it affected you a lot more than it did him and it scared him. He watched you scrub the clothes from that night so many times before just throwing them away.

He didn't want you to leave the safety of his apartment or his bed for your own. It was the only thing to ease the constant uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Bucky saw the pained look on your face everytime you'd see the crooked scar on his side, it was completely different than the loving way you'd look at the one on his shoulder. So, when you'd trace it with your fingertips he'd always make it a point to tell you it wasn't your fault and how much he loved you.

He swore to himself that nothing would be left unspoken again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @likeahorribledream @cxddlyash @iwannabekilledtwice @bookstan0618 @marvel-3407 @glxwingrxse @yliumy @pineprincess @makbarnes @cupcakehinch @doasyoudesireandlive @magicwithinnightmares @preferredrealty @andy-is-gay @stucky-my-ship

[your-ace-cousin-clover]

Different, But Same

[Part 1 of my Tomgreg Analysis Series]

TL;DR - Shiv and Greg tend to mirror each other a long in the sequence of the story especially in regards to Tom. This is interesting as Shiv is Tom's romantic partner which the same relationship is echoed very strongly with Tom and Greg.

One of my most interesting observations in regards to the whole Tom/Shiv and Tom/Greg situation is how Greg and Shiv's narrative arc seem similar in regards to their relationship with Tom. However, because of certain reasons, the relationship that Tom has with Greg is more stronger despite the same narrative followed for Shiv as well.

Also disclaimer : THIS IS TINHATTERY! THIS IS ME THEORISING! YOU CAN ALWAYS DISAGREE / AGREE WITH ME.

I'm just having some fun here.

1. Initial Circumstances of meeting Tom

In S01E01, we see the circumstances in which Tom and Greg meet each other for the first time. Yes, with the volatile reaction that Tom has of "would you kiss me if I asked you? if I told you to?" (That is a whole another topic that I'll later delve into about shame and queerness in Succession) However, but the time Greg dejectedly stands at the door Logan's hospital cabin with uncertainty about his job at Waystar, S01E02, Tom makes an important offer to Greg. He offers to "look after" Greg in his time of need and help him.

Interestingly, later in the series, in an offhand comment, Shiv mentions how she herself was not in a good state of mind or in a stable position of life when she met Tom. [I don't recall the exact episode where this conversation takes place - but I'm pretty sure this happens]

Regardless, in different times of the show, Shiv depends on Tom to help her through stressful circumstances.

Tom is a dependable person for both Shiv and Greg through his emotional support as well as professional support for these people.

2. RECNY BALL Incident

In S01E04, the notable RECNY Ball takes place which is overshadowed by the fact that Tom receives papers about the Cruises Scandal from Bill. There are two people that Tom informs about the papers : his assistant, Greg Hirsch and his wife to be, Siobhan Roy.

This is one of the multiple instances where Greg and Shiv are placed in the same context for Tom.

When Gerri confronts Tom about the holding a press conference. However, (this is the point where the Tomgreg subtext becomes stronger) when Greg defends himself, Tom seems to believe him which ends up casting strong suspicion on Shiv. This is interesting as this takes place, weeks? days? after having met Greg for the first time and despite, fact that Tom is going to be married to Shiv, he doesn't trust her.

Greg's subordinate status to Tom and his disconnect from the Roys (the situation happens to be opposite for Shiv) is what makes Tom believe him in the first place. Tom has never felt secure in his relationship with Shiv because of his perceived inferior status. However, in regards to Greg, he's in a more balanced position (even superior to Greg) which is why he feels strongly about protecting Greg as well as is comfortable in his relation (though he expresses jealousy? at Greg's closeness with Kendall professionally later on).

He assigns the job of burning the papers to Greg which brings the both closer as they have a secret between them. (Even Shiv doesn't know about the papers until their wedding) Greg and Tom can trust each other to some extend because of the Cruises burning incident because if one of them reveals it then the other goes down. (This analysis does not currently take into account Greg revealing the papers at the press conference - by that point he's reached a position where he can reach out for things other than what Tom can offer him)

3. They both betray Tom as well as Logan

Shiv joins Nate professionally which leads her to not only later cheat on Tom despite their ongoing engagement, but it also brings her into conflict with Logan Roy as she decides to align herself with Senator Gil Eavis who is extremely anti-Logan. Her alliance with Nate causes strong jealousy for Tom wherein he asks Shiv about Nate (which also later is apparent with how Tom humiliates him later with the wine).

In a similar vein, Greg encourages Kendall during the night of Shiv's wedding with "things have to change here". And later on, not only aligns himself such strongly with Kendall that prompts Tom to ask him about it during Hungary and says "a girl can start to wonder."

Both of these alliances are detrimental to Logan as they challenge his place in the throne. However, Shiv's alliance with Eavis collapses easily due to difference in views. It would be interesting if the Kenstar Gregco alliance lasts longer due to the consequences that might result if they try to break apart as well as the blood bond which makes the link more stronger.

4. They both negotiate with Gerri using the Cruises Papers

Tracking on the fact that Shiv and Greg are the ones that mainly know about the papers. They leverage this information in a way that benefits them or creates additional favours for them.

This is initially seen when Greg rats out Tom's plan to do a new conference exposing Cruises to Gerri which is how she shuts him down quickly. This gives Greg a favourable opinion from Gerri, a proximity to the power of Waystar and benefits him even though it screws Tom over.

In a similar vein, Shiv does the same thing when she negotiates with Gerri, Logan's spokesperson, during her wedding night to stop the attacks on Eavis. She uses it to benefit the person she is working for.

This is a very small similarity, but is also another way they both mirror each other in the arc of the story.

5. A sense of moral superiority

Again minor point, but interestingly, both Shiv and Greg have a sense of moral superiority over not being as involved in the business and their sense of doing the right thing.

(This may later diminish as both get more and more stuck with the core of the business, but this is at like early S2)

Greg brings it up first when Tom brings him to ATN with his whole speech on "principles". Tom admonishes Greg with "of course, we're trying to do the right thing. We all are, so don't go talking about principles."

A similar thing repeats when Shiv admonishes Tom about Logan's decision to purchase Pierce. She makes a point about how terrible ATN is the fact that she needs to get proper news from a "respectable" source.

Both of them throw Tom's involvement with ATN as well as Waystar by a way of sticking to principles while being incredibly hypocritical themselves.

6. "Open Marriage"

This is self-explanatory for the most part, but at the same time, it's one of the biggest points for this mirror as well as for Tomgreg.

As mentioned before Tom feels a sense of inferiority with Shiv, which is why he is the more meeker one in the relationship. Which makes him accept the "open marriage" idea with Shiv even though he is essentially being cheated on the entire time.

However, in regards to Greg, the same inferiority does not appear. And by the time, the famous "I will not let go of what is mine" scene, Tom and Greg are friends to a bit. They go out for the ortolan scene (which has a separate analysis about physical hunger and queerness as well later - food metaphors are strong in Succession), Greg tells Tom about Shiv's cheating and Tom has brought Greg into ATN.

[These small things cement the relationship between them and show that Tom and Greg enjoy themselves outside the confines of Waystar which Tom and Shiv struggle with as seen in the case of their honeymoon]

However, Greg's use of "open marriage" causes Tom to not only express his anger, but provides a space to express the anger. He publicly declares how upset he feels that Greg wants to leave and interestingly, uses relationship specific terms like "break up" to talk about Greg's proposal. He repeatedly asserts that Greg is "his" and this brings in a context of jealousy with Kendall when Tom questions about Greg spending more time with Kendall later on in Hungary.

7. They both ask favours from Tom which put him in trouble with Logan

In the Hungary episode, both Shiv and Greg ask Tom do certain favours (In case of Shiv, it is for Tom to ask Logan about the Pierce deal and convey everybody's dissatisfaction. And in case of Greg, it is to hide that fact that he met with Pantsil from Logan).

Now, Tom has been clearly established as a strong sycophant in regards to whoever is at the helm of Waystar (conveying Kendall about Ewan coming to the board meeting as well as cheering on Logan when he announces Pierce) so the only way he would take a risk for a person is if he's close to them. This makes sense in case of Shiv as she is his literal wife, however, this comparison is interesting when we think about Greg in this context. Tom goes lengths to protect Greg to the point he is humiliated by the employees and his in-laws only which is huge as throughout the entire series Tom has simply been trying to fit in with the Roys to the point, he wants to change his last name after marriage.

8. Both are put in position where they are can be the successor of the company and in turn, can become Tom's boss

This happens mostly at the end of S2, but, the entire time Shiv is championed as the Successor by Logan Roy himself which makes Tom assume that he will later on succeed her. However, this is turned to the head when Shiv proclaims that she does want to run the company. In doing so, she will become Tom's boss which is disappointing to Tom because, it will only emphasis on his sense of inferiority as well as the fact that he cannot take care of her (because as established before he is the person that cares for people, especially ones that he loves).

A same dynamic emerges as Greg aligns himself with Kendall. This exponentially increases his chances of being the Successor (especially if Kendall drops out somehow either due to drugs or any other circs) which would also untie the two Roys. This would similar draw the same conflict Tom faces with Shiv as the successor.

Therefore, in bringing Shiv and Greg together again and again, I feel like it enhances the romantic subtext between Tom and Greg (as it literally swaps out the man's wife for his lanky assistant) as well as brings out a stronger comparison as Tom and Greg have done things to each other as well as for each other which ties them together more closely than Tom and Shiv.

Just imho.

Tag List ❤️-

{Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

@feuillytheflorist @finitevariety @dr-pamela-isley

@dawsonandpaceyareinlove @nickwilding @foreverjustvibing @houseocats

[j-ut-da-e]

Bitter Taste

1. October First - Part 1

Summary - BD Han was born on October 1st, 1989. They were just a nurse refusing to use their full powers before they became best friends with Klaus Hargreeves. After driving him to his father’s funeral, their life capsizes when they meet the rest of the Hargreeves family.

Pairing - Klaus Hagreeves x NB!OC

Word Count - 2601

Warnings - heavy swearing, talk of drug use and actual drug use, talk of trauma, talk of depression, misgendering

A/N - i have been having so much fun writing this, you have no idea, tell me if I missed any warnings <3

Masterlist

I was just another tragic backstory. Another name on the growing list of "troubled kids". With that in mind, I'll keep the introductions short.

On October 1st, 1989 my mother gave birth to me around noon. This wouldn't be strange except for the fact that she wasn't pregnant when the day began. I learned later that 42 other women gave birth in the same manner.

Seven of the children were adopted by an eccentric billionaire, Reginald Hargreeves. He raised them to fight evil in what he called the Umbrella Academy.

The rest of us weren't so lucky.

☂

Underwater I could only hear my blood rushing throughout my brain. It sped up the longer I stayed under. My hair swirled around me, bunching up so it only reached my elbows. Opening my eyes, I saw my distorted bathroom. Was it distorted through the water or because of the pills that were still next to the tub?

Thumping? I felt and heard one loud bang and I sit up out of the now-cold water, my bangs slicked back into the rest of my hair. Footsteps approach the bathroom. Uneven, light, the person wasn't big, not much of a fight. Was anyone much of a fight? The pain wasn't worth using my powers.

The door flies open as I’m lost in thought. I quickly hit the pill bottle behind the toilet, “Jesus Christ, Klaus!” I yell, pulling my knees to my chin.

The man in my doorway smiles widely and holds his arms open. I hadn't seen Klaus Hargreeves in nearly half a year. He wore leather pants and a black patchwork coat with fur, eyeliner smeared around his eyes. His hair was shorter now, that seemed to be the only difference. 

“BD!” He says, sitting on the toilet next to me, “I’ve missed you so much, babe. What have I missed, what's been going on?”

I lay my head on my knees, “You’re high, huh?” I ask, looking up at him. 

He digs in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a gold coin and flipping it to me. I catch it and look it over. A sobriety chip. He went to rehab again.

"Your hair has gotten so long, BD," he says in wonder, separating a piece of wet hair and inspecting it, "you know if I taped this piece to the back of my head I'd have a sick-ass rat tail."

I sigh "First of all, my hair is much darker than yours," I place his sobriety token back in his hand and take my hair back, "second, Klaus you've been MIA for 6 months, why today are you breaking into my apartment?"

The strange man I call my friend stands and waves his hands around. His palms read "Hello" and "Goodbye", which was also new. "On my lovely ambulance ride, I heard that my dear old daddy has died-"

"Ambulance?!"

"Yeah, yeah. I was half expecting to see you at the hospital actually," he says with a dry laugh, "Anyway, I was going to ask if you'd pretty pretty please drive me to the Academy."

My vision blurs and I rub my face, "Yeah. Yeah, I'll drive you, just give me a minute."

"Oh thank you, thank you, BD!" He cheers, coming over and kissing me on the cheek.

"Mhm, now get out and let me get un-naked." 

Klaus skips out of the bathroom, blowing a kiss. I roll my eyes back and fall back into the water, splashing the floor. Lanky legs hit the side of the tub after stretching them out. They felt like they were growing, and growing, and….

☂

It was much colder than I had anticipated it to be. Too cold for the clothes I put on. Definitely too cold to have left my hair damp. I could feel my brain freezing by the second.

Klaus hops into the passenger seat and rolling down the window, lights up a cigarette. I turn the keys in my shitty Crown Vic three times before the engine roars to life. The sound of the engine reminded me of the beginning drums of Hot For Teacher by Van Halen. I shake my head and focus my eyes. Not important. I was aware that Klaus was talking the entire time we drove to his childhood home, but I didn’t process any of the words. 

I had read Vanya Hargreeves’ book, Extra-Ordinary: My Life As Number Seven about half a year into Klaus and my friendship after we found out we both had powers. Vanya described the Academy several times throughout the book, it took up a whole block, with forty-two bedrooms, 19 bathrooms, and a courtyard. The book didn’t even come close to capturing the scale of the Academy in real life. It almost loomed over the street. I could feel it staring at me.

I put the car in park and look over at Klaus, avoiding looking at the building, “Okay, sweets. Have fun with your family,” I force a tight-lipped smile, laughing after.

“You’re gonna make me go alone?” grabbing my hand and resting his cheek on my knuckles he looks up at me with big eyes, “BD won’t you stay with me? I can't face my family alone, you understand, your mom sucks ass just like my dad. Please, BD, I’ll owe you forever,”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and I can see all the times Klaus has helped me play on the back of my eyelids. “Yes, Klaus, okay, I’ll stay with you.”

“Oh, BD! You’re the best friend little old me could ask for,” he says, holding my face in his hands.

Swatting his hands away I turn off the car, grumbling while I get out. The sidewalk is uneven in front of the grand structure. I have to catch myself before stumbling over my own feet. Maybe my legs are just too long? Not important.

“Should I uh- Should I really be coming with you? I mean, aren’t your siblings not gonna like an “outsider” being there?” I ask, my body starting to shake.

Klaus opens the grand double doors with a flourish and grabs my hand, “Oh, my sweet summer baby, I love that you think my siblings will even notice I’m here, let alone you,” he turns and puts my hands on his face, “Wow your hands are really cold, come here.” 

He opens his coat to me, but I say I’m fine and tuck my hands under my arms. Klaus just shrugs and twirls back around. Opening his arms wide, he “beholds” the Academy to me.

The mansion is grand but dark, the air was almost heavy. The entryway opened into several large archways going in four directions, the middle opening up into the second floor. It was all dark wood and dust. Hanging in the middle was a black, intricate chandelier. 

Straight ahead was a grand staircase. To our right and left were double doors. Every door I could see was shut, which made sense why the air was almost suffocating.

"Wow, this is, uh-"

"I know right, very… grandiose. But too dark and stuffy for my tastes, you know what I mean?"

Klaus leads me to the right and throws open the doors. They reveal the living room. It was just as dark and dusty as the entryway, the ceiling opened up into the second floor as well. Various taxidermy animal heads hung across from one another under the banisters. 

Above the fireplace hung a portrait of a young, dark-haired boy in the academy's uniform. Two couches sat across from each other and two chairs sat next to the fireplace. A bar was situated to the right of the room and to the left was a grand dining table, a large portrait of Reginald Hargreeves looms over the entire room.

"Wow. Homey."

"Yeah…yeah. Anyway, BD, you sit here," Klaus sits me down on one of the couches, "I'll be right back, I'm gonna go search through dad's shit," he says, snapping.

Before I can protest about being left alone Klaus is already halfway up the stairs, giggling maniacally. I slouch back into the couch, avoiding eye contact with Reginald's portrait. My fingers picked at their own skin and my eyes were darting around the large room. 

Umbrella Academy memorabilia sat on almost every surface. Family portraits, comic books, framed articles, action figures. I couldn't imagine my childhood trauma being on display and ogled at.

"Who-" I look up suddenly to a beautiful woman standing in the open doorway, "oh, you must be a friend of Klaus's?" She asks.

The woman was tall, her hair blonde and coiled to her lower back. Her tawny skin seemed like it was glowing, no- sparkling- Not real.  I've seen her before. Where have I seen her before?

"Allison Hargreeves?" A large grin is forming with the words, "Holy shit, I've seen everything you've been in, you are an amazing actress!"

She looks taken aback for a moment before her face eases into a smile as well, "Thank you so much, um-"

"BD," I say, "Please sit, could I ask you a couple of things- No, I'm sorry. You're here for the funeral too. I'm- I'm sorry…"

"No, no. You're totally fine," she says, sitting down across from me, "What did you want to know?"

Excitement bubbled up in me, "Well-"

"Who the hell are you?" A male voice asks from the doorway.

Allison and I turned to him, "Diego?"

"Allison. Who the hell is that?" He inquires a second time.

The man in the doorway wore all black. Straps and harnesses crisscrossed his chest. Shining silver knives sat in holsters on his back and down his legs.

"Oh, this is BD. Klaus's…friend, and a fan of mine."

"What, does she run his halfway house?"

She. I push down the urge to correct him, "And did you just come from a BDSM party or something? All that leather is really doing it for you-"

Allison claps her hands together, "Okay! I'm gonna go find Klaus for you," she says, laughing nervously.

She leaves and Diego follows shortly after, grumbling about something under his breath. I can hear them talking in the entry hall before they leave again. Leaving me in agonizing silence. 

Soft footsteps come in from the far side of the room. A familiar face. Vanya Hargreeves. She's standing by the bookshelves, I think holding her own book. I wanted to get up and talk to her but it felt like I was glued to the couch.

"Welcome home, Ms. Vanya."

I turn to my left and see an upright chimpanzee walking with a cane. He was wearing a full three-piece suit and thin spectacles. Not real?

"Pogo," Vanya answers.

Holy shit. Real.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Are you…a friend?"

"I- yes," I turn back to Vanya, sweating a bit now, "Klaus's friend. He asked me to stay with him, but I can uh- I can leave if you need me to."

"Nonsense," Pogo says, walking over, "If Klaus asked you to stay then you are more than welcome, Ms…."

"No Ms., Just BD. Well, my name is BD- uh Han," I blurt, sticking my hand out for one of them to take, Vanya does. "I'm also a really big fan of your book, when Klaus told me about the academy I went out and bought it and I read it in one night."

A shy smile creeps over Vanya's face, "Thanks, I don't usually have people actually liking the book…" she turns to Pogo again, "Speaking of which, did dad ever-"

"Did he read it?" She nods, "Not that I'm aware of."

☂

After a small and tense conversation between Vanya and Pogo, the rest of the Hargreeves siblings came into the room. Diego and Allison sat in the armchairs framing the fireplace. Klaus was pouring himself a drink at the bar behind us. I was introduced to Luther, an unimaginably large man in a heavy trench coat.

Klaus lit up another cigarette, holding a large drink and a small trophy in his other hand. He had changed outfits before coming back downstairs, a black skirt and no shirt, he kept his coat. Luther talked about having a memorial service, Klaus of course asked about food. 

"Is that my skirt?" Allison asks, incredulously.

"What?" He looks down at himself like he had forgotten, "Oh yeah, this? I found it in your room. It's a little dated, I know, but very breathy on the bits," he says, plopping down next to me on the couch.

"Listen up. Still some important things we need to discuss, all right," Luther spoke up over Klaus's ramblings.

Diego looks up at him, annoyed, "Like what?"

"Like the way he died."

"And here we go," he sighs, flipping a knife in his hand, "Should we be doing this in front of a stranger?" He asks, pointing the knife at me.

I open my mouth to answer, but Klaus puts his hand on my leg, "BD is my emotional support human, if I'm there, they're gonna be here!"

Everyone pauses for a moment before going back to their conversation as if Klaus had never spoken. My mind loses focus of their voices. My fingers hurt, I looked down and it looked like I had been picking at them. When did I do that? Am I still doing it?

"You're crazy, man. You're crazy!" Klaus's voice snaps me out of my own head and he grabs my hand, "Let's go, BD. Sorry, Luther, I'm just gonna go murder mom. Be right back."

How long was I just looking at my fingers? 

☂

"Please, BD!" Klaus pleads, "When you slap me it works so well to sober me up," he picks up my hands and puts them on his face, "They're just so cold, it's like an ice water bath in one second."

Once everyone else had left the living room, Klaus and I came back to the bar. He had been trying to summon Reginald's ghost for over half an hour at this point. Slapping himself, jumping, screaming, none of it was sobering him up. 

I take my hands back, "Fine, Klaus! But if you moan again, I'm leaving," I threaten, pointing at him. He crosses his heart.

I steady myself as he jogs in place, readying himself. I bring my hand up and sway a bit. Shaking my head, I line up the slap.

“Are you-” 

Klaus flies to the left as my hand makes contact with his cheek. I bring my hand back, rubbing it. Why did his face have to be so bony? Almost as fast as he went down, Klaus jumped back in front of me.

“Woo!” he exclaims, “I have missed that. Holy shit, have you been working out?”

Before I even open my mouth to answer, he's already trying to summon the ghost of his father again. Yelling at him to get his ass into this realm. I just continue rubbing my hand, trying to get feeling back into it.

“Oh, whatever. I need another drink,” he says, reaching over the bar.

His hand knocks over the urn and the ashes of his father spill all over the wooden bar and the floor. Klaus turns and we make eye contact, silent for only a few seconds before we both start laughing hysterically. I run to the other side of the bar.

“Hurry, scoop it up! Scoop it up!” we try and scoop the fine ash up with our hands and put it back into the ornate urn as I scream, laughing.

[peach-the-owl]

Of a Kind Sol

Pumat Sol & Child!Reader

Request: Our favourite enchanter Pumat Sol and his arcane copies because who doesn't love them? Only crazy people. So a kid, maybe into their teens, coming into the shop and asking to learn from him how to enchant stuff and become his apprentice and later on he finds out they have nobody.

Child is a bit of a loose term for this because the reader is about 12-13 years old. I regret nothing, anyways enjoy! 😁

The Invulnerable Vagrant a humble little shop located in the city of Zadash, you walk up to the shop, adjust your cloths to look a little more presentable and take a deep breath before making your way inside. The first thing you notice upon your entry is the two identical employees walking around stocking up items and rearranging them, the third one manning the counter also looked the exact same, it was almost intimidating.

"Well hey there, what can I do for a youngin' like yourself today?" The firbolg at the counter asks kindly.

"Umm, h-hello, my name's (y/n)." You say a little shakily holding out your hand, the firbolg returns the handshake.

"A pleasure to meet you (y/n), I am Enchanter Pumat Sol." He greets you back.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you too. Uhh… well… I had a question I’d like to ask." You put on as confident a smile as you could muster.

"And I’d be happy to answer any questions you have, respectfully. What’s your question." He gives you a patient look. You take another deep breath to psych yourself up.

"I was wondering if you were looking for anyone to help with the shop? I’m really interested in learning about enchantment." You give him a hopeful look, he leans back placing a hand on his chin in thought before looking at you again.

"So you’re interested in enchantment eh? Well that’s a question I’ll have to talk to Pumat prime about."

"Pumat prime?" You give a questioning look.

"Yes, you see myself and the other two over there," he points to the other firbolgs running around. "We're what you’d call magical manifestations created to aid the original in his work." He explains to you.

"So you're not the real Pumat Sol, just a copy to help around the shop?" You try to hide the nervousness in your voice at the revelation.

"More or less. Now you wait here just a moment, I’ll be right back." With that he gets up and disappears behind a curtain leaving you to stand there, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. After a minute he returns with who you’d assume to be the original Pumat Sol, who removes his goggles to get a better look at you.

"So you’re interested in enchantment I hear?" He asks same question as the other had.

"I am, I’ve always been interested in the ways of enchantment but I’ve never really been able to learn it for myself." You brighten up.

"Well…" he thinks for a moment, "that is, respectfully, a fine offer. I already have a lot of hands helping with the shop though." You start to deflate a little. "However, it would be nice having someone else helping me with enchantments." You perk up again.

"So I have the job?" You ask eagerly.

"As long as it’s alright with your parents-"

"Yes! Yes, of course it is." You quickly lie, cutting him off. He stares at you but smiles regardless.

"Well alrighty then, we can get started right now if you'd like, respectfully." You just nod. "Keep up the good work me." He tells the copies before he takes you back behind the curtain to his little workshop area to start your training.

For the next few weeks you’d come to the shop bright and early to learn and hone in on your enchantment skills, which you pick up on rather quickly, helping with projects and making a few small items of your own, at the end of the day you’d get your share of money and head "home" to start the day anew tomorrow. You even got your own work apron and pair of goggles. To make things easier on yourself working with four of the same guy you gave the arcane copies nicknames, Matty, Sol, and Puma respectfully, they all seemed to like the little nicknames from you so that was how you’d refer to them from then on. How could you tell who was who? Simple, you made little enchanted name tags with the help of Pumat. One day a set of new adventurers hobbled into the shop, you only being made aware of this when Matty came into the workshop with a request for something to be made prettier.

"Do you wanna handle this one (y/n)?" Pumat asks.

"Me? Really!" Your eyes sparkle with excitement.

"Why not, you’ve made great progress and it’s good practice." You get up and follow Matty through the curtain where you see the previously mentioned adventurers. They all take quick notice of you.

"Hold on a moment. Didn’t you say the forth one's in the back?" The half-orc questions.

"I'm actually his apprentice." You say with a large, proud smile. You see the red-head give an amused side look but decide to ignore it. "Anyways, I was called to make something pretty?"

"Yes!" The blue tiefling pipes in, showing the Fantastic Haversack. "See I’m going to be wearing it and I want it to match my outfit…" While she’s say all this you try to think of what to do, coming to a rather quick and obvious solution.

"What’s your favourite colour?" You ask.

"Pink!" She replies, without missing a beat. You wave your hands around, muttering a few arcane words and watch the bag simmer turning a bright pink. "Ahhh! It’s beautiful! 200 gold, here you go." The tiefling happily exclaims, handing you a bag of gold.

"You’re welcome miss…" You pause realizing you didn’t know her name, she catches on.

"I’m Jester." She greets properly.

"I’m (y/n). Nice meeting you Jester." You greet back. "Keep up the good work Pumats." You then turn to retreat back behind the curtain with a few "thank you's" and make your way back into the workshop.

"Hey uh (y/n), one more thing, you got a request for more of those little explosive spikes you made from a little goblin girl." Puma pokes his head into the workshop to inform you.

"Wait, someone actually wants more of those? But they aren’t very strong." You were surprised anyone was interested in something you made seeing as all the bigger and cooler enchantments were Pumat's doing.

"They said something about them being perfect for arrows." Puma explains.

"Oh! Umm, ok. How many are they asking for?"

"Fifty."

"Fifty! Wow, I got a lot of work to do then, it’s gonna take me a while. Thanks Puma." You give him a smile that he returns then leaves to help finish up with the costumers.

Some time went by, you continued your usual routine showing up early, working throughout the day and carefully returning "home" with a nice bag of coin for meals, all was well… until it wasn’t. One evening you were a little too confident in yourself and got a little careless, not checking for any thugs or muggers while turning down an alleyway like you usually do. You were just walking along merrily when you bumped into someone.

"Well, well. That sure sounds like a awful lot of coin for a street rat." A rather stocky dwarven man chuckles darkly. You take a few steps back towards where you’d entered but stop when you hear someone approach from behind, a tall lanky man blocked your exit pulling out a dagger. You started to panic, as much as you’d like to cast something to aid yourself, you left your spellbook and components for said spells back at the shop leaving you defenceless. You tried to dart past the dwarf hoping to loose the two further into the alleyway, what you didn’t count on was the dwarf to be nimbler then he appeared. You’re grabbed by the collar of your shirt and slammed against a wall, effectively knocking the air out of you and before you can push yourself up off the ground you feel a harsh kick to your side and a sharp pain in your arm. You try to scream for help but again before you can react your head is slammed hard against the ground leaving your vision blurry before completely blacking out…

You awaken with a feeling of slitting pain in your head and your entire body aching, slowly pushing yourself off the ground into a sitting position proving to even be a difficult task. Once you get a better look at yourself you can see a few cuts on your arms from the dagger the lanky man had used and you were covered in bruises, you reach a hand up to where your head was throbbing the most only to flinch away from the intense pain. You stare at your hand seeing it covered in your own blood, taking proper note that you were in fact surrounded by a small puddle of your own blood. You were surprised you even managed to regain consciousness, regardless your vision was still blurry and you needed medical attention, soon. You didn’t have any coin or items on you anymore leaving only one location for you to get help, a part of you dreading the idea but deep down you knew it was only a matter of time before you’d have to deal with the consequences of telling the truth. Shakily you get yourself to stand and hobble your way out of the alleyway towards your destination, looking to the sky you could estimate that it must’ve been close to late morning, early afternoon by now. You approach the door and with what little strength you had left you open the door and stumble into the shop.

"Welcome to the Invulnerable- Oh my goodness! (Y/n), what happened!?" You teeter and before you fall to the ground you feel a set of gentle hands catch you, then a second set of hands help to bring you to the back. After a few minutes your able to regain your focus back, seeing Matty and Sol on either side of you both with identically concerned looks on their faces.

"Here you are, this'll help fix you up." Sol hands you a greater healing potion which you waste no time in using to help ease away the lingering pain and get rid of bruises that weren’t covered by bandages. At this time Pumat walks in and gives a small nod to the other two.

"I’ll take it from here fellas." He tells them. They get up, Matty giving you one more gentle pat on the shoulder, and head back to the front leaving you alone with Pumat. "Care to tell me what happened?" He starts slowly and calmly.

"I umm, got mugged by some dwarf and lanky man in an alleyway." You say quietly.

"Now why were you in an alleyway so late, you should’ve been home with your parents." You let out a sad sigh and turn away from him a little. "(Y/n)?" You stay quiet but give a quick side glance. "I think I deserve an explanation here." He uses a more stern voice this time making you look over at him, despite the tone you could see genuine worry written on his face.

"I-I lied about my parents agreeing to this, because the truth is I don’t have any. I was left here all alone a few years ago, nobody came for me and I was forced to live on the streets. I meant to say something sooner, but I was scared…" You trail off a bit, feeling tears prick at the edges of your eyes.

"What could you be scared of, if you don’t mind me asking."

"I was scared you wouldn’t accept a dirty street rat. For so long I wanted to belong somewhere, but I was always turned away. I thought if I lied about myself you would accept me as an apprentice, but I wasn’t lying about learning enchantment I really do like it. I just didn’t want to be turned away again." By now you were sobbing, a stream of tears flowing down your face, your eyes turning red and puffy in the process. "I don’t want to be turned away again, please don’t be mad." You finish quietly through your sobs. There’s a pause before you feel yourself being pulled into a gentle, comforting hug. You stay in the hug for who knows and who cares how long until you finally pull away.

"Believe it or not, but I get it. I didn’t really fit in when I was about your age either." Pumat confesses, you look at him confused and he just gives you a kind smile. "I mean, do you see any other firbolgs that live here. I think not." You give a small giggle at that. "Now why don’t you take the rest of the day off, head on upstairs and get yourself some rest, you can use my room for now. I can handle myself just fine."

"Really? You’re sure it’s ok?" You give a curious look.

"It’s fine, I’ll get one of the others to help clear out our spare room for you to stay in later." You blink a couple of times to process what was just said.

"Wait, stay in? Like, live here?" You ask, wanting to know if you’d heard correctly or if you were hallucinating.

"Well of course! I can’t have my favourite apprentice sleeping in the streets, I’d worry too much knowing you might get mugged again or worse. It's real bad for the health." He states sorta matter-of-factly. You break out into a large smile at this.

"That is, respectfully, a very generous offer." You say with a playful bow. "Thank you. For everything." You continue more seriously this time.

"It is my humble pleasure." He gives you a nod. "Now go on, you need to rest and recover." You give him one more hug which he happily returns before heading up for that much needed rest.

I stayed up way later then I thought to finish this…… worth it

[aestheticaxolotl]

Let’s Talk About Neal The Eel

Lets talk about Rat-Daddy, I mean Neal the Eel

Let me start with Neal, using the Carmen Sandiego Wiki to break him down as a whole, starting with appearance and personality (Excluding the comments around his action in the show). I am biased here, Neal is my favorite character in the god damned show. I will stand by this rat till I die.

I may or may not go into ship fodder but that may just have to be a thing for another day.

Neal is a tall man with a thin lanky frame and greasy black hair. He has buck teeth with a slight gap between, usually resting over his bottom lip. His skin is very pale, almost grey, and he has purple bags under his eyes.

All I have to say is this boy is tired, probably anemic, I have reason to believe that Neal the Eel is both anemic and hypermobile ( a heritable connective tissue disorder that affects the joints and ligaments in a person's body. It comes in different degrees of severity, the least being similar to double-jointedness). There is no age stated but I am willing to bet he’s around 30-35, due to his aged face lines and his Faculty audition (NGL I would have loved to see him as Faculty). Not gonna lie, the buck teeth is why I’ve been lovingly calling him a rat. I’ve seen many buck teeth in my day but this is the first time I ever really loved it. I think the greasy detail is just due to the slippery aesthetic. But I can appreciate that.

For personality we do not have a lot to go on, but what we do have is VERY revealing about the depths and flaws of his character.

Neal is described as "conniving and loyal to a fault" by Doctor Bellum. During fights, he has an affinity for making puns and teasing his opponent. Despite his goofy nature, he is a competent operative, having been able to outplay both Shadowsan and Carmen in combat— additionally having been considered a potential faculty member by Bellum. He is later revealed in the fourth season to be extremely laidback and easygoing, since he did not care about getting his mind wiped, getting fish dumped on him, or defecting from V.I.L.E.

As you all know by now, (Unless you are new), I marked the most important details in the bold font. As we do not have much to work with, a lot of details are bolded, I really hope what I put out is up to standard!

Neal is described as "conniving and loyal to a fault”

Now, I’m taking into account that he has a reason to be ‘loyal to a fault’. If you have read my headcanon you will know that I strongly think Neal came from a circus or some form of freak show, we know how flexible this man is and there is no way that it just happened. I imagine that the loyal to a fault is to Dr. Bellum, who wanted him on faculty. But WHY? I’ll touch on that soon. We do see that the man is loyal and is very clever during points in the show. So perhaps there is some connection to Bellum that we as an audience have not yet seen, through technology or something. He seems to enjoy technology, but not on the same level that Bellum does, this really stumps me and I would LOVE to hear what y’all have to say about it!

He has an affinity for making puns and teasing his opponent

Need I remind you all that Neal the eel is a HUG GOOF BALL?!? *Goes to laugh in the corner for a second* Okay, now, he makes a lot of jokes and has fun with his job and I can really respect that. I have not seen a character that has as much FUN at work as Neal does. That’s why he is so fun to watch on the screen, he’s having fun the way that our others are not. He’s poking fun at Carmen and Shadowsan, HE ASKS IF SHADOWSAN JOINS THE SOVIOT UNION. I Mean that was amazing. All his puns are centered around him being slick, and there is a LOT that one can do with that. I also noticed that Neal nicknames the people he is working with, I can only really see him calling Lady Dokuso “Slippy Micky”  as being playful banter, that she seems to ENJOY by calling him “ unagi”, which translates to eel. And I love that a character like Neal comes across as enjoyable and annoying at the same time, do I even need to mention that Mimebomb seems to absolutely HATE Neal? He’s slimy and annoying and tells bad puns. It’s amazing that dynamics that one character can have that spices up other characters too!

He is a competent operative, having been able to outplay both Shadowsan and Carmen in combat

Now. This detail does go back to the teasing of the opponent area of this character essay. Neal is able to outplay Carmen and Shadowsan in combat, that shows some major skill, seeing as Shadowsan is older and more experienced while Carmen might be both faster and dare I say stronger. I feel that the level of skill between Shadowsan and Carmen should have made him easy to take down, where as I state, people underestimate Neal and that is why he gets the best of them. If you have seen my previous two posts, you will notice I do not use the intro cards for the character, I look for images that really give a sence to the character. Take a look at the image used for Neal. This mother trucker had a BMI of 2- MAYBE. It would be easy to underestimate him in real life or in show. This allows him to be the competent operative he is, he KNOWS he is underestimated and uses that as a tactical advantage. 

Additionally having been considered a potential faculty member by Bellum.

I mentioned that I have no idea why Bellum would want Neal on the Faculty, and even here when I had time to think about it, I still do not! the only think I can think of is that Bellum must OWE him for something. Not he owes her, but SHE owe HIM something. Perhaps Neal stole something for Bellum that put him in great danger, like a computer system or something of great technological advance that put V.I.L.E So far forward in the technology stance that Bellum could not forget and had to repay. But then I look at the whole Brainwipe thing and wonder why she couldn’t repay him by letting him live free?  And that’s why Neal’s loyalty is such a hard thing to pin point.  SO I put forth that Neal is just skilled That’s it. It’s a little lame, but then I look that I say he is underestimated and think... That’s why they want him. His underestimation is the thing that got him on. They think that they can control him, and he would have shown them, No, they couldn’t.

Extremely laidback and easygoing

Come on, just when I think he can’t get any better. (Insert oh no he’s hot meme) or (Insert hes meeting all of my standards meme). Neal is laid back, relaxed, easy going, and all those other words for chill. I noticed that when he loses he’s not like “AUGGH NOO MY FUTURE IS RUINED” he’s more like “Damn that was a good game, I’ll get you next time.” He’s got good sportsmen ship and I love that. I’ll touch more in the next section too about how being too chill can be a problem. Neal being easygoing also make sense seeing how well he can work with other, I’ll gesture to the partnership with Lady Dokuso where he worked VERY well with her and then the teaming up with Mimebomb who absolutely hated every second of it. 

He did not care about getting his mind wiped

Not going to lie, but I screamed when I saw that Bellum was going to wipe Neal’s brain. First thought was ‘OH NO’. Second was “WAit I thought she liked him’, and third was... “Wait... He’s just... Fine with this?’. Neal is TOO chill. I feel like a person should care that their brain is getting wiped, maybe just a little bit? And then I stopped, thought about what I knee of him, and laughed. Like, if he was really worried about getting he mind wiped he would have yeeted out of there a long time ago. He know that Bellum and the Faculty will show mercy to him, give him a second chance. And when that second chance was given to him? He tried and then escaped. Never to be seen again, never heard from again, never even thought of again. I imagine he did care and placed a lot of faith into what he knew of the faculty. And yes, Imagination is the basis of this here, because as previously stated, he is a competent operative and knows what he is doing, he didn’t just allow himself to be walked all over.

Neal is a master of infiltration and specializes in slipping into small spaces. His slick body suit, lanky frame, and skills as an acrobatic-contortionist make him a difficult man to capture and hold.

This is all that is given for the abilities of Neal, its not a lot to work with but I manages to strangle some thing out of it. Neal being a master of infiltration strikes me as very direct, along with the added specialty of slipping into small spaces. I figure the directness is so that the show and tell aspect of the show is less surprising. Along with the slick suit, lengthy frame and obvious gesture to  acrobatic-contortionist skills gives me the impression of an escape artist. I figure from this that Neal was often used for the stealth and fast missions. 

While Neal the Eel doesn’t have as much to offer Wiki wise, I am so happy with what I was able to offer up to you. Neal is an amazing character, even if I set aside my bias towards him, and an even better study. 

Not just as a funny, skinny guy who looks like a rat, but as a deeper character with masks and guards that not even his closest allies could even guess at. A usual, I hope you enjoyed and I will have another one of these out fairly soon. Still doing requests!

Thanks for Reading!

[toxic-stargod-apologist]

The Church of a Loving God - Eaters of the Dead

Genre: Horror

Word Count: 5,558

Synopsis: In the grim darkness of the far future, countless billions toil and suffer to keep the wheels of the imperial war machine turning. The God Emperor demands blind obedience and the only reward is a brutal death. In the dark corners of this world, among the teeming masses of humanity, Jocasta Theta will find something more; a life worth living, and a god worth believing in.

Content Notes: Cannibalism, Police Brutality

Author's Note: A massive thank you to daddyfuckinlonglegs for all their help and advice, and for motivating me to get back into writing. Jocasta's story will continue in chapter two, 'Love in a Dark Millennium'!

AO3 Link: The Church of a Loving God

The day started with bells. Jocasta opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling of the bunk house, counting the chimes. Three, four, five, then a raspy, mechanical voice crackled out from the vox caster.

“Theta shift, wake up. Theta shift, wake up. You have one hour before your work begins. Thought for the day; only in death is duty's debt repaid.”

There was a short hiss of static as the vox switched off. Jocasta lay in her bunk for a moment and tried not to think about the crushing heat. The ventilation system for her hab-block had been broken for a month; every night she prayed to the Emperor to send one of his red priests to fix it, and every morning she woke up drenched in sweat. No point dwelling on it though.

She got up and pulled her overalls out from under the bed. Her tiny section of the room was separated from the rest by a threadbare blanket hanging from a string, and as she got dressed she could hear the rustling of nineteen other people doing the same. They were all theta shift, but none of them were part of her work gang. She'd barely spoken to any of them in the three years she'd lived here.

Still, she thought as she pulled the blanket aside, there was no reason to be unfriendly. She gave a smile and a nod to each of them as she made her way to the door. Some of them smiled back. Some of them didn't. All of them looked tired.

The door was jammed, like it had been every morning since the ventilation broke, but it swung open after a few sharp kicks. Jocasta breathed deep as she stepped out into the cavernous, and relatively cool, expanse of transit tunnel forty-one. It was a vast, diagonal shaft formed of buttressed rockcrete walls lined with dozens of metal walkways, all of them bustling with people heading to, or from, their allocated workplace. The steeply sloping floor of the tunnel was covered by rails, along which cargo pallets were constantly moving, and the ceiling was festooned with pipes, cables, and dim, flickering glow-globes which cast the hubbub below in shades of orange and amber.

Jocasta was vaguely aware that there was a universe outside the tunnel – the mountainous hive-city of Gloriana Aeterna stretching up for miles above her, a planet outside, and thousands of planets beyond – but she would never see them. This tunnel, and the chambers branched off from it, had been her whole world since the day she was born. Her little corner of the imperium.

As she made her way down the walkway she scanned the crowd for familiar faces. Most days that search was fruitless, but this was a lucky day. Through the throngs of shuffling figures she spotted an unruly shock of blonde hair, and with a little pushing and shoving she got close enough to recognise the pale, lanky man it was attached to. Exactly who she'd been hoping to see. Surreptitiously she spat on her hand and dragged it through her short red hair; she'd once seen a pict-capture of noblewomen from the upper hive, all of them beautiful and all of them with their hair slicked back.

“Good morning Seth!” She fell into step beside her work mate, who looked down at her with a weary smile that made her heart beat a little quicker. “I'm so glad I caught you, did you hear what happened on sigma shift? Katra, from the market, told me all about it. Apparently the coreward grinder threw a gear just as the shift was ending, which isn't all that strange, happens all the time, but after the technomats pushed it back in they still couldn't get the whole thing spinning. So one of them says 'there must be something stuck in there, we'll just take the casing off and find it'. So then they did, and they saw what was jamming it, and guess what it was? Go on, guess! I'll give you three tries.”

Seth's brow furrowed. He looked up at the roof of the tunnel, his lips moving silently, then looked back down at Jocasta. “Okay, first guess... Was it a sump rat?”

Her mouth fell open. “You knew? That's not fair! You can't pretend to guess if you already knew!”

“I didn't know,” Seth said with a grin, “I just figured it out. There's not many things big enough to jam the grinder but small enough to come up through the pipes. Also I hear rats down there all the time.”

“Ooh, you're such a liar! You couldn't just 'figure that out'. You know I thought I could trust you, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe I'll have to find a new friend who doesn't try to cheat me.” She tried to look serious, but Seth put on such an exaggerated show of remorse that she couldn't help smiling.

“You really can't trust me any more? After everything we've been through? After everything I've done for you?”

She put her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. “And what exactly have you done for me?”

“Well...” He leaned down until their heads were practically touching and lowered his voice to a whisper. Jocasta could hear her heart thumping in her chest. “...how about scrounging up something to eat on our break?. One of my bunk mates managed to find some meat. Some unprocessed meat. And since he owed me a favour, I got us a slice to share.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you joking?” she whispered. “You have to tell me if you're joking, you can't just say something like that and not mean it. And what do you mean he found it, anyway? Do you know what it came from? He didn't steal it, did he? Because if he stole it-”

A deafening burst of trumpets rang out from the vox pylons above them. As one, every worker stopped in their tracks. A moment later the cargo pallets below them shuddered to a halt. Silence, heavy and oppressive, settled over the tunnel. Jocasta stole a glance at Seth; he'd already closed his eyes and crossed his hands over his heart in the shape of the holy aquila. She shuffled a little closer to him and did the same.

“Citizens of Gloriana Aeterna.” The deep, sonorous voice came from every vox, in every direction. “Hear me, and give thanks. The God Emperor protects you, his faithful servants, for as long as you dedicate your lives and deaths to him. Through the might of his armies, he protects you. Through the swift justice of his arbites, he protects you. Through the diligence of his administrators, he protects you...”

The familiar litany washed over Jocasta. She's heard it so many times she could recite it backwards. Real meat, though... That was a special kind of gift. Silently, in her heart, she gave thanks for it.

***

It took another half an hour to descend to the ration processing plant. Down here the walls of the tunnel were studded with loading bays and access ports, and the air was thick with industrial smog. The two of them made their way through the murk, moving slowly and cautiously over corroded walkways and down rickety ladders, until they reached the entrance hatch for loading bay seven. Seth started coughing. He'd been doing that a lot recently.

Inside, the noise in the low-ceiling bay was almost painfully loud. Workers from Sigma shift were rushing to and fro, shouting instruction to each other as they tried to unload the last of their shipments. Enforcers holding crackling shock mauls and suppression shields prowled between them, reflective visors covering their faces. Heavy carts trundled over the metal floor grates with their axles squealing, and over it all was the roar of the spinning grinders at the far end of the bay.

The men and women of theta shift were huddled against one wall, staying out of the way until their time came, but between them and the access hatch was an armoured security booth. Jocasta walked up to the mesh grill at the front of the booth and smiled at the grim-faced watchman behind it.

“Jocasta Theta, reporting for shift.”

The man grunted and peered down at his data-slate until he found her name, then pressed his thumb against the screen. He reached down under the desk to pull out two rectangular metal tins, each the size of Jocasta's palm, and slid them through the gap at the bottom of the grill.

“Two ration packs, corpse-starch. No eating between breaks. No hoarding. No trading. Return the tins at the end of your shift. Do you understand?”

The enforcer had said the same words to her every morning for the last three years, and she'd given the same response. “Yes sir, I understand. May the Emperor protect you.”

“And you. Move along.”

Jocasta put her rations in her pocket and went to join the rest of her shift, leaving Seth to report in behind her. She knew almost all of her co-workers by name, even if she hadn't had a chance to get to know most of them, but today there was an unfamiliar face. A man... No, a boy, probably on his first work assignment. Maybe four of five years younger than her? Not even old enough to shave. He looked every bit as scared as Jocasta had been when she started at the plant, and she decided that he needed a friend.

“Hey there kid, welcome to loading bay seven! You're new, aren't you? Please say you're new, if you've been here for a while I'll be so embarrassed. My name's Jocasta. What's yours?”

“Uh...” The boy hesitated, looking down at the floor. “My name is Lansan. It's nice to meet you.” His voice was so quiet she could barely hear him over the noise.

“Well it's very nice to meet you too, Lansan. I guess this is the first place you've worked? Well don't worry about that, we'll show you the ropes in no time. Which section are you assigned to?”

“Um, I think they said I'd be unloading the pallets?”

Jocasta kept smiling, but her heart sank. “Oh, so you'll be working with me! That's good. Did they say who you're replacing?” She already knew the answer.

“Yes, they said the last person got reallocated to a manufactorum on the upper levels. His name was Dillan?”

“Gillan. His name was Gillan.” Jocasta struggled to keep her voice level. Gillan had been nearly forty, with a limp he couldn't hide any more. No manufactorum would have taken him.

She tried to think of something to say, but before she had a chance the bell rang to signal the shift change. The exhausted workers of sigma shift put down their tools and started filing towards the exit, and theta shift moved quickly to take their place. Jocasta walked towards the wide metal shutter on the tunnel side wall, still thinking about Gillan, wishing Lansan wasn't following quite so close behind her. She wanted time to think, but the shutters were already opening to accept the first delivery of the day. She'd just have to wait until the shift was over.

“Alright Lansan, this is the start of the chain. The cargo comes in through here, we jump onto the pallet, then we throw it over so it can be loaded onto the carts. After that it goes through the grinders and onto second stage processing, but you don't need to worry about that bit. Do you have a handkerchief? That's good, tie it around your face. It'll help with the smell. Grab yourself some gloves from the rack, try and get a pair without any holes in them. Let's see... You know how to lift, right? Knees bent, back straight?”

The boy nodded, pulling his gloves on, and she did the same. With a familiar shriek of metal on metal a wide platform rolled into view down the tunnel and pivoted into the loading bay, coming to a halt a couple of feet away from the edge of the floor. Lansan went pale as the smell hit them; the platform was piled high with corpses, collected from all the middle and lower levels of the city. Jocasta saw his expression and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“Try to think of it as cargo, rather than people. The city needs to eat. Just be careful when you jump across, you don't want to fall into the pipes.”

He nodded slowly, but she could see his hands trembling. There was nothing more she could do for him except lead by example, so she jumped across to the platform and started pulling a body off the top of the pile. Lansan joined her, gingerly picking up the corpse by the shoulders as Jocasta lifted its ankles. Under her direction they carried it to the edge of the pallet, gave it a couple of swings, then threw it across the gap to where a couple of carters were waiting to load it.

“So, Lansan, how far up do you live?” She was hoping to take his mind off the task at hand, if only so he'd stop being so squeamish.

“Um, about forty minutes walk? We're a couple of levels down from the market.”

“You're not that far above me then! Oh, and you said 'we', does that mean you're still living with your family?” The boy just nodded. “You're lucky. My parents got moved to tunnel thirty-six just after I started working here. Haven't seen them for years.”

“I'm sorry, that must be hard. Not knowing...” He paused for a moment to find his footing as they picked up a particularly heavy body. “Not even knowing if they're still alive, I mean.”

Jocasta found herself lost for words for a moment, and almost slipped on a bloated hand. She wanted to believe the kid didn't mean any harm, but surely he was old enough to know better? Either way, there was only way to respond. “Well if they're dead, I'm sure they died serving the Emperor. You can't ask for anything more than that.” She had to force the words out. You never knew who was listening.

“Oh, yes, of course. I didn't mean... I was just thinking, I don't know what I'd do if my parents got reassigned. I guess they'd move me to a smaller bunk, but I've never lived alone before. Did you ever... Urgh!”

The boy recoiled and fell backwards as the arm he was holding came away from the shoulder with a wet slurping sound. Jocasta dropped her end of the body, leaving it on the edge of the platform, and walked quickly over to him.

“Listen, Lansan,” she whispered as she helped him up. “I need you to be a little tougher, okay? The guards here don't care that you're young, or that it's your first day. If they don't think you can work, you'll get moved somewhere else. Somewhere worse, on the lower levels. Your parents wouldn't want that for you, so just...”

Too late, she saw his gaze move down to the corpse behind her. By the time she turned round it was already slipping over the side of the platform, down into the pipes, and she could only stand there as it disappeared from view. A moment later there was a crash, then a distant, wet thud. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew what was coming.

“Worker!” The shout cut through the noise of the loading bay. Jocasta opened her eyes again and fixed her gaze on the floor; she could hear the heavy footsteps of the enforcer walking towards her. A quick glance at Lansan confirmed he was keeping his head down as well. At least his parents had taught him that much.

“Wasting the city's food is a crime. Which one of you is responsible?”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lansan opening his mouth, but she was quicker. “It was me, sir. I wasn't paying attention. I'm very sorry, it won't happen again, I...”

“Step off the platform.” The man sounded more bored than angry. Jocasta jumped across to the loading bay and turned to face him, making sure not to look him in the visor. “You have your rations for the day?” She nodded. “Give me one of them.” She fished the tin out of her pocket and the man snatched it out of her hand. He opened it, checked the contents, and dropped it into a pouch on his belt.

It was a lighter punishment than she'd expected. She let herself relax a little. “Thank you sir. Permission to get back to-”

Without warning the enforcer swung his shock maul into Jocasta's stomach. It wasn't a hard hit. It didn't need to be. Her world went dark, then brilliant white flashes danced across her vision. All she could hear was a snapping, crunching sound that seemed to come from every direction at once.

It only lasted for a moment, and when her vision returned she was lying on the ground at the enforcer's feet. She tried to stop herself trembling, but she couldn't. Across the bay she could see Seth staring at her. He looked scared.

The man leaned down to speak to her, his boot inches away from her face. “You're going to go down to the pipes during the first break and retrieve that corpse. You will not be late. You will not return empty-handed. Do you understand?” She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out but a dry wheeze. He seemed to take that as confirmation. “Get back to work then. No more mistakes.”

As he walked away Jocasta, still shaking, got back on her feet. The hot, raw pain was starting to spread through her stomach, and she knew from experience it was going to get worse before it got better. It would make the next few hours of work agonizing. And then the pipes... People died down there. She could die down there. All because she'd been too busy trying to help the new kid...

“Um... Jocasta?”

She turned to look at Lansan. There were tears on his cheeks. He looked ashamed.

“I can help, if you want. I can go down to the pipes with you.”

For an awful moment, she thought about saying yes. Maybe the two of them would have a better chance of getting out alive. Or maybe she could run faster than him... She put the idea out of her mind. “Thanks, but I'll be fine.” Her voice was still little more than a croak. “It was only a small one, and it's already missing an arm. I can carry it just fine by myself.”

“But, maybe, I could protect you? Kind of, watch your back?”

Jocasta gave the boy the best smile she could manage. “The Emperor protects.”

***

The area under the ration processing plant was a tangled web of tunnels, pipes, junctions and crawl spaces. Bundles of cables wove through narrow corridors, linking together rusted, humming machines that only the red priests truly understood. Everywhere there was the dripping of oil, grease and other, more organic fluids from the plant above. The lights were so faint that they were little more than stars to navigate by, if they worked at all. The only people who came down here were maintenance teams, and they never made the descent without armed guards. The rats were always watching and always hungry.

Jocasta had no guards, and no weapons except a wrench that Seth had slipped into her pocket as he'd wished her good luck. The enforcers had let her take a lantern at least. The weak, yellow light only reached a few paces away from her. Beyond that there was darkness.

She'd been slow and careful at first, trying to stay quiet, freezing every time she heard something skittering through the gloom, but the morning break was only half an hour long and she knew how much worse things would be if she was late. As she went deeper into the maze she started to move faster, gripping the wrench tightly and hoping her reactions would be quick enough if something jumped out at her.

She walked through one dank, humid corridor after another, rushing down steep ramps and squeezing through air ducts, doubling back on herself whenever she reached a dead end or locked hatch. After a while her pace slowed. Every time she passed a turning she paused, trying to picture where she was in relation to the loading by above her, before choosing a path and continuing.

Eventually she reached a junction and had to stop. There was an opening leading down to her left, but surely the wall of the transit tunnel should be there? And if it wasn't, did that mean she was farther away from it than she'd thought, or had she gone so low that she was underneath it? How long had it been since the break started? She didn't have a chrono. Maybe it had been ten minutes, maybe fifteen. Maybe she'd never find the body, or the rats would find her first. She could hear them, scuttling through the gloom. They sounded like they were getting closer.

She leant against the wall and set the lantern down on the ground. Her hands were trembling. She tried to get her breathing under control, but she couldn't.

Gillan was dead. She knew he was. People didn't just stop working when they had a family to feed, even if they were ill. Perhaps he was just too sick or too badly injured to get to the plant, but the end result was the same. The weak didn't survive for long. Yesterday she'd teased him for the silly little moustache he'd started growing; she'd said it made him look like an old man. That was the last thing she'd said to him, and now he was gone.

Her shoulders started shaking. She wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeve, then squeezed hard on the metal handle of the wrench. She didn't have time to cry. Somewhere up there Seth was waiting for her. All she had to do was find the body, and then she'd find her way back to him. They'd share good food, and gossip about their shift mates, and then she could tell him how much he meant to her and hope that he felt the same...

She heard it before she saw it; the click, click, click of claws on metal. She swore under her breath. If she hadn't been so wrapped up in her own head... No, there was no time for anger. Slowly, she bent down to pick up the lantern. Her hand trembled as she raised it. There were pale, milky eyes gleaming in the dark of the corridor behind her. Three, no, maybe four creatures, though she couldn't be sure. She'd seen dead sump rats before, and no two of them had the same number of eyes.

Keeping her eyes on the crawling shadows, Jocasta started to back away. One step, two steps, and then, from behind her, she heard a low hiss. Her heart jumped into her mouth. She froze, trying to work out how far away the rat behind her was; it sounded close. A few paces, maybe.

The wrench in her hand was slippery with sweat. She tried to adjust her grip. If she could turn quickly and get in a good swing... But there wouldn't just be one, would there? They never hunted alone. Running was the only option, and out of the corner of her eye she could see the side tunnel that had confused her a moment ago. She still had no idea where it went, but it didn't matter.

Jocasta bolted forwards, ducking through the doorway as a screech went up from the rats. She sprinted down the narrow corridor, leaping over gaps in the floor grating, racing around the sharp turns and sudden twists of the tunnel. The rats were close behind her but she couldn't look back. She couldn't hold the lantern steady, and it took all of her concentration just to stay on her feet in the flickering light.

She ran on, her heart pounding, desperately, frantically looking for some way of escaping her pursuers; their shrill chittering echoed from the pipes around her. Suddenly, through the enveloping gloom, she saw a metal hatch up ahead. She darted through it, slamming her weight against the door, the rusty hinges screeching as she forced it closed. From beyond she heard the rats scratching and clawing at the metal, throwing themselves against it in a frenzy... and then, the sound faded. Listening hard, she could make out the clanking of loose grating beneath their feet, the noise getting quieter and quieter as they abandoned the chase and moved on. Gasping for air, she slid down the door and sat against it.

She was alive.

As the adrenaline receded, she realised she was in a junction room larger than any she'd found before. She couldn't tell exactly how large; the light didn't reach the far wall. What she did see, lying on the metal floor surrounded by broken ceiling panels, was the corpse. For a moment she just stared at it, uncomprehending. She was lost. She'd run for her life. How could it be right in front of her?

Slowly she climbed back onto her feet, walked up to the body, and knelt down beside it. It had taken a beating during the fall, but aside from the missing arm it was still intact. Now all she needed to do was carry it back up to the surface. But that was impossible. The rats wouldn't have gone far. She couldn't outrun them with that much dead weight on her shoulders. She was going to die. Unless... Unless there was another way out of here.

No sooner had that thought crossed her mind than she noticed a faint, pale light from up ahead of her. It didn't look like the flame of a lantern, or the glow of the electric lights that lined the halls of the hive city. It was softer. Gentler. She stood up and started moving towards it.

As she walked forwards the air seemed to shimmer. Motes of light danced around her, swirling in a breeze that she couldn't feel. The space was larger than she'd imagined, and even as the body disappeared from view behind her she still couldn't see the far wall. As she got closer to the glow she saw it was coming from a human shape on the floor; to her surprise she realised it was another, much older corpse. She'd never seen one so decayed before.

The thing that drew her eye though, and the source of the light, was the fungus. It sprouted from every part of the body, pushing through the blackened skin in strangely shaped clusters, not just one type but a myriad of different shapes. There were varieties she'd only ever heard about, and some that were completely alien to her. Fragile looking spheres on delicate stalks, glistening jellies that had eaten deep into the remains of their host, mushrooms of every shape and size. And the colours! She'd thought that all fungi were pale grey, but these were a riot of blues, oranges, pinks and browns, all of them glowing softly in the gloom. It was beautiful.

She stepped forward, holding the lantern as close as she dared. There was a rich, warm aroma rising from the corpse, so strong that she felt light-headed. As she leaned over it she realised there was a pattern hidden in the light. Everywhere she looked, the fungi had formed itself into circles. The motif was repeated across the entire body. Circles overlapping each other, circles within circles, and in the centre of the chest three thick, conjoined circles of bright green mould. They'd grown so that each circle was linked to the other two to form a triangle.

There was something more, though. Something in the centre of the pattern that she couldn't quite make out. She leaned over the body, holding the lantern closer, straining to see what was hidden there... And then her foot slipped. Before she could think her hand jerked forwards to break her fall, and with a wet, sickening squelch it hit the mould and sank into it, the desiccated body's chest cracking and collapsing under her weight.

The smell of rot and death washed over her. She scrambled to her feet and reeled back in disgust, desperately shaking the spongy, stinking slop from her hand. It clung to her skin like glue; she couldn't bare to look at it. She dropped the lantern and pulled out her handkerchief, scrubbing at her arm frantically until it was free of the muck, and then stood there, panting, over the body.

Reluctantly, Jocasta looked at her hand. It was still streaked with grime and dotted with luminescent spores, but she'd done the best she could. The handkerchief was sodden; she threw it aside, then closed her eyes.

“God Emperor, please... Please don't let me get sick. Please show me a way back up. Please let me live, just a little longer.”

She whispered the words into the dark. There was no reply.

It wasn't until she opened her eyes and bent to pick up the lantern that she heard it. The familiar click, click, click, and then a low hiss. The rats had found their way in.

Her whole body went stiff. This was it, she realised. She didn't know where she was. There might not be another way out of this room, and even if there was she wouldn't find it before they caught up to her. All she could do was die fighting; a stupid, pointless death.

She turned and saw the rats at the edge of the lantern's light. Lumpy, misshapen creatures with bony spines and tumorous growths sprouting from their backs. She counted seven of them, each of them as big as a hound and staring at her with murderous hunger. Slowly she reached into her pocket and pulled out the wrench, then stepped forwards to meet them...

And the rats backed away.

She paused. Was this some kind of trap? Were they waiting for her to leave the light? She took another step forwards. One of the rats hissed at her, then turned and scurried into the dark. The others edged backwards.

Jocasta took a deep breath and walked forwards until the lantern's pool of light was behind her. With every step the rats retreated, some of them squeaking and scuttling to the corners of the room. It was as if they were scared. She just stared after them, dumbfounded. But then, she'd asked the Emperor for help, hadn't she? And this... this was a miracle.

For a long moment she stood there, in the dark, trying to think of any other explanation. The rats could have killed her easily. She'd heard of them attacking armed groups when they were hungry enough, and these ones had looked very hungry. Just a few minutes ago they'd been chasing her down. And now suddenly they were scared of her.

No, that wasn't right, was it? They were scared of that old corpse, or the fungus. If they weren't then the whole thing would have been eaten long ago. The rats would eat anything, animal or vegetable, no matter how rotten it was. And if it wasn't the rot, or the fungus, then what else could have stopped them if not the Emperor's protection? And now that protection was on her.

There was one way to be sure. She went back and retrieved the lantern, humming a hymn under her breath, and then picked up the sodden handkerchief. She walked across the room until she saw the last few rats prowling at the edge of the light and threw the rag at them as hard as she could. Before it had even landed the creatures scattered, shrieking in panic.

Jocasta couldn't help but laugh. This was amazing! She'd seen a real miracle, right there in front of her! The body must be some kind of holy relic, hidden down here for who knows how long, and she was the one who'd found it. She wondered if Seth would believe her. In the stories, miracles only happened to holy warriors and saints... Maybe she wouldn't tell him right away. It would be her secret, at least for now.

Sighing, she realised she had more immediate concerns. It would take time to find her way back up to the plant. At least now she wouldn't have to worry about the rats though. She went back to where the ceiling was broken, hoisted the body onto her shoulders, then set off to retrace her steps. As she left, the light in the junction room faded. The sound of her footsteps died away. All that was left was silence, and the soft glow of the fungus, and the clouds of spores that danced through the air without any wind to move them.

[thiswasinevitableid]

winter prompt fill 29, indruck, sfw?

29. i should’ve done my shopping a month ago but now i’m running around last minute and when i enter your store, i’m absolutely frazzled. help me.

(Pinecone is borrowed from harrisonator’s fic “Monster Mash”)

Working at Kepler Petco isn’t the worst thing, even during the holiday shopping hellscape months. It’s not like anyone is getting in fistfights over cases of Fancy Feast. Which is why, on the 22nd of December, Duck is unprepared for the sudden sound of hands on hitting the countertop. 

“I need help.” The guy’s about his age, silver hair going patchy black near the top, pink and white striped sweater around his neck and a massive sweater hanging off his lanky frame. His red glasses barely conceal brown, anxious eyes. 

“Sure, what’re lookin for?”

“Rat treats, the kind that won’t make them ill.”

“Can handle that, right this way.” Duck leaves the counter and leads the guy back to the small mammal section. As they go the man spins a ring on his index finger, flushing under the merciless heating vents. 

“I’m sorry for the dramatic entrance. I have a mountain of things to do today and your store closes first.”

Duck glances at the AKC branded clock on the wall, which shows 12:30 p.m, “We close at five.”

“Yes, I know, but I really cannot overstate how behind I am on my Christmas shopping. Or, well, holiday is more accurate, since Joseph celebrates Hanukkah, which means I’m already late on that.” He sighs, runs a finger with chipped black nails through his hair.

“Big family?” Duck points to the row of snacks, grabs the man a basket from the end of the aisle when he starts piling them into his arms. 

“Lots of friends. We’re having a party tomorrow and I completely forgot about it until today. I know it’s ridiculous to forget about a holiday where you can’t turn around without being slapped with a reminder of it, but my brain doesn’t always work in the way I’d like it to.”

“No judgement here. Once forgot my sisters birthday until the minute my mom asked if I could get some candles for the cake after school.”

“Oh dear.” The man smiles, the expression shifting from odd to shy when Duck meets his eyes, “thank you for your help.”

Five minutes later the guy heads towards the register, then stops, backtracking to the display of rats, mice, and hamsters. Duck joins him in case he has questions, and to steal another look at his singular features. They’re not handsome on the surface, but something about them draws his eye back over and over. He’s just in time to hear the man cooing to a pair of brown rats.

“...so lovely, aren’t you just charming? If I could I’d take you home but space is limited. Oh” he blushes when he sees Duck, “I’m, ah, ready to pay now.”

“One of your friends got rats?” He indicates the pile of treats the man is buying.

“Hmm? Oh, no, these are for Luna and Emperor, my rats. I wanted to get them presents too.”

Duck can’t decide if the fact the guy prioritized spoiling his pets on the day he had to buy a bunch of gifts is adorable or worrying.

“As I said, I came here because you close first. And I, ah, I like spoiling them. It’s nice to know exactly how to cheer another living thing up.”

“I get that. Pinecone, that’s my, uh, my cat, gets more treats a month than I do.”

“Someone ought to buy you a few, then.”  The man murmurs, handing over his debit card. 

Duck, caught up in the mechanics of fighting with the card reader, doesn’t realize he’s being flirted with until the man is no more than a silver head merging into the throng outside. 

He’s lowkey annoyed with himself the rest of the day; he’s been in the market for a cute guy, and while his mystery shopper may not be Ryan Gosling, but Duck wouldn’t mind getting his number. 

Since he opened today, he gets off at three, decides to swing by Crate and Barrel in case the apron he thinks Barclay might like. There’s small hallways dotted through the mall, leading to exits or to backrooms.  As he passes one, he gets a glimpse of silver hair and a vibrant scarf. That’s the only good part of what he sees; the man from earlier is pressed close to the shiny wall, trying and failing to get his breathing order.

“Hey, man, you okay?”

He jolts, registers who’s speaking, and looks at the ground, “N-not really. I, part of the reason put this off so long is I can get incredibly overwhelmed in crowds sometimes, and yes I know that makes coming here three days before Christmas even worse an idea but I thought maybe I could handle it, but I’ve only managed to buy two of the gifts I need because I cannot focus with everything going on and, and I’m sorry, here I wanted to charming around you and now you’ve seen this and-”

“What would help?”

“I, I’d like to go somewhere quiet, but there’s nowhere, even the bathrooms are packed.”

“Do you, uh, want to come sit in my car for a bit? I can run the heater so we don’t freeze.”

“That’s really alright?” The question is so small and vulnerable he wants to tuck it into a shoebox to keep it safe.

“Yeah. C’mon, I’m parked on this end.” 

It’s snowing on and off as they walk to his car, and as he gets it running and turns on the heat his passenger finally pulls his clenched hands from his pockets; one holds a fidget cube, the other a very small, plush moth.

“I tried so hard to prepare for every possible future.” Is what he gets as explanation. The man sets both items in his lap and shuts his eyes, breathing slowly in and out. Duck says nothing, opens his phone and plays two rounds of Plants vs. Zombies before he hears anything at all from beside him. 

“Would you mind turning the radio on, at a low volume?”

“Any requests?” Duck hits the power button.

“No talk radio.”

“Can manage that.” He fiddles around and finds the alternative station. Even it has Christmas songs interspersed with the usual mix. 

“Is your name really Duck?”

He wonders if the guy is omnipotent until he remembers his nametag.

“It’s a nickname.”

“I’m Indrid.” He opens his eyes, “thank you for letting me come here to calm down. I may actually manage to succeed in my quest now. It’s so hard, I actually enjoy being out around the lights, the feeling of so many people being happy or trying to do kind things for each other. But it’s easy to get overwhelmed, especially when I’m alone.”

“Would it help if you weren’t?”

“Possibly, but I couldn’t ask you to spend even more time in that mall given you work there.” 

“Got some last minute shoppin to do myself. Besides, if you get stuck on a gift, I’m pretty damn good at comin up with ideas.”

“Thank you.” Indrid smiles, excited, and that settles it: Duck is asking for his number after this.

They brave the crowds and the holiday cheer blaring across the speakers once more. The first stop is a store selling housewares, including a pair of small succulents that Indrid deems worthy of giving a friend as he listens to Duck talk about his part time job at the National Forest, laughing when Duck mentions last weeks run-in with a pissed-off migratory bird. 

The next few stores are no help, and they opt to take advantage of the lull between when people are done with school and when people are done with work to hit up the coffeeshop, Indrid ordering a white chocolate peppermint mocha and promptly getting whipped cream on his nose. Duck is tempted to kiss it off, settles for handing his new friend a napkin while he talks about his recent return to Kepler after traveling around the country in a Winnebago, selling his art at shows. As luck would have it, the store has a shelf devoted to artisan or local coffees, and they’re each able to find one for someone on their list. 

Macy's proves more treacherous, and once five o’ clock hits even Duck is feeling cramped. Indrid is tensing, his replies getting short or far off, and just as Duck is about to offer to dip out again, chilly fingers link with his own.

“Is this alright?”

“Better than alright.” He grins and Indrid holds tighter, breathing in through his nose and out his mouth as Duck guides them into a less crowded corner. The do eventually find some high quality hiking socks that Indrid buys, only letting go of Duck in order to pay. 

They reward themselves with dinner at Johnny Rocket, Duck hopping over to Indrid’s side of the booth to see pictures of Emperor and Luna, and show off the photos he has of Pinecone hiding under his ranger jacket. 

“One more stop, thank goodness.” It’s going on seven and Duck has to say he agrees; he loves being around Indrid, but his feet are killing him and he’s had “Jingle Bells” stuck in his head for an hour. 

Indrid’s last item is at Crate and Barrel, and Duck laughs when the other man goes straight to the aprons. 

“You got good taste, I’m gettin’ one of these too. Barclay said he needed a new one.”

A fine-boned hand freezes mid-reach, “Did you say Barclay?”

“Yeah?”

“I am also buying this for a Barclay. Is your Barclay, by chance, dating someone named Joseph and hosting a party tomorrow?”

“Yep.”

They stare at each other, frozen long enough that another shopper passes between them. Then they double over in sync, Duck wheezing out a laugh while Indrid cackles. 

“Holy shit, we’ve been shoppin for the same folks!”

“Barclay mentioned there’d be new people at the party but I never thought one of them would be such a catch.”

Duck gets his breathing in order, steps across the faux-hardwood and takes Indrid’s hand.

“Hey, Indrid? You wanna be my date to the party tomorrow?”

“Absolutely.”

“....wait, fuck, which one of us is gonna give him the apron?”

“You can, I have another idea for him. Consider it an early present from me.” Indrid tease. 

“Sugar,” Duck slips his hands into Indrid’s back pockets, smiling up at him, “you might just be all the present I need.”

[llendrinall]

Omg if an adult Draco woke up in 5 year old Draco's body and he wanted to make his father's life a living hell. Id read that, please please tell us the stuff he'd get up to. (as well as the stuff you would get up to at school, please)

It would be a nightmare for all involved. Draco, who had fought so much, suffered so much in order to atone not only for his mistakes but those of his family… and he finds himself back! All progress lost! He had broken his back, literally (it was a really dumb idea and Harry was very angry with him) to get Granger to warm up to him. Longbottom had forgiven him! (And Draco doesn’t even know what exactly he did to merit that). Harry had…

Harry had kissed him the weekend before.

And now he is back in his five-year-old body. Not even eleven, when he could see Harry and make a difference. No, he is five, and Draco cries and rages so much that he develops a fever and is incoherent for a week.

Afterwards… Well, you know how parents pride themselves in their children’s achievements? How parents want their children to be better than them? Lucius has found there is a limit to it. Having his son be more eloquent and advanced than any other child his age is great. Having his five-year-old son tell him with impeccable grammar that he, Lucius, will bring the ruin of their house is not great at all. Draco looks at him with a cherubic face and eyes that are burning grey, accusing him of crimes that even Narcissa doesn’t know about. Crimes that Lucius had barely begun to plan.

It is terrifying.

It is well known that what muggles call “demonic possessions” are nothing more than a wizard having a little too much fun with an imperius. But when Draco grabs Lucius’ wand, goes down to their hidden vault and, and, and opens it! He- he just casts the spell! Draco is five and he is doing magic that many adults struggle with! Oh, then Lucius wants to believe there might be something else.

(Out of all the forbidden things in their vault Draco went straight to the diary the Dark Lord had entrusted Lucius. Straight to it. And he destroyed it that very same night.)

“You failed.” Draco says, hot and angry. He is so pale and soft and full of fire. “You failed at everything and I had to take your place. I was given an impossible task as punishment to you, threatened not only with my death but the whole family, because of you!”

“Tenses, darling.” Says Narcissa softly. Narcissa is blind to the monster they have in the house. She doesn’t see it. She is convinced that there is nothing wrong with Draco, that he is just a very powerful seer who is a bit confused with timelines and verb tenses.

Draco is not a seer. Lucius is sure of that because if he were, then he would know that Lucius is thinking of… cleaning up the line. Narcissa is still young and she can give him another son or Lucius can remarry.

He is not a seer, but one day over breakfast Draco looks up and says “It won’t work. Whatever you are plotting, it won’t work. I can’t recall a single plan of yours that worked longer than a month. Kicking Dumbledore from Hogwarts, bribing the Ministry, bringing back the Dark Lord. It never works.”

So Lucius packs up his things and leaves the country quietly.

Narcissa is… shocked, which means she is furious, betrayed, and briefly terrified that she might lose her income and secure position. But once she is reassured that she still holds the house and the fortune she takes a big breath, internally swears that next time she comes across Lucius she will castrate hex him, and steps up into the role of Lady of the House.

She also listens to Draco. She insists that what Draco says has happened is yet to come, but she listens.

Draco wants to get Harry at once, but it is not so easy to find a seemingly normal muggle family in the sea of actually normal muggle families living an hour away from London. In the meantime, Narcissa visits Flourish and Blotts every day for a week until she finally gets there at the same time than the Weasleys. Then it’s a question of dropping a handkerchief and waiting for the bespectacled Weasley to fetch it for her and then, well, he is so eloquent and polite that Narcissa insists on buying young, Percival, was it? She shall buy him a quill. Any quill he wants. Don’t look at the price and just pick whatever quill you like best, young man. You must have a proper quill to write your letters.  

Molly Weasley would rather drag herself through shards of glass than accept a gift from a Malfoy; but one look at Percy tells her that if she takes this from him, if she takes his once chance of having something New and Fancy and Just For Him, he will hate her forever. So Molly relents (as Narcissa knew she would because mothers are predictable). Two weeks later Draco has a play date with Ronald.

“I think you should play Quidditch, Draco, dear.” She says, because horrendous as Lucius’ attitude was, she does recognize that Draco can be a bit off-putting. There isn’t that much talking with Quidditch and Draco is clever enough to let the young Weasley win two out of three times.

It takes thirteen months to find Harry and by then Narcissa has got a foot in both the Weasley’s and Longbottom’s houses. The latter was an excruciating effort and is still a very much work in progress. Narcissa had to let that bulldog of Augusta Lonbottom seer her crying and even now they are one wrong word away of losing all progress, but the children are talking and that was the goal.

She is weighting the pros of buying a house near the Dursleys and just moving there versus the advantage of frequently inviting the Weasley kids to the manor, when she sees the anxious look in her son’s face, a look of urgency and desperation and…

“Draco,” she cries, softly and sadly. Beautiful Draco, six years and two months and with a face like a silver coin. “Draco, dear, do you love this boy? I don’t mean like you love Mummy. Do you…”

“I know what you mean, Mother.” Draco says, serious, he is always so serious. She supposes he has to be to contain the fire burning inside. “I am not a child, I have told you. And I love him with all my heart.”

Oh.

“Then, you shouldn’t meet so soon.” Narcissa says firmly, although inside her heart is aching and she doesn’t know why. “Children who grow together tend to see each other as siblings. Why, your Great Aunt Marthia grew up with Gaius Mulciber, her fiancée, and their marriage was very difficult. I think he tried to poison her in order to marry his lover, or the other way around. I can’t remember. In any case, it is better to wait.”

But Draco doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to wait. He doesn’t want Harry to spend a single day more than necessary in that house where he was miserable and unloved. Whatever it takes, he says. Whatever it takes, even if the price is not loving Draco. Let’s rescue him now.

Narcissa explains that waiting would be much better. There are other things they have to keep in mind, like the return of the Dark Lord and the fact that Harry is linked to him. It can’t be that bad, the muggle house. Just bad enough that Harry will jump easily and eagerly to the wizarding world once it’s presented to him, so he will be all the more willing to sacrifice his…

“oh”, Narcissa says, very softly, not even an exclamation mark or a capital.

“oh”, she repeats.

Internally, she thinks “that bastard”. Dumbledore, of course. It is well known that Dumbledore wants Voldemort’s destruction at whatever cost.

“Draco you have to get yourself invited to the Longbottom’s house.” Narcissa says. Something in her tone finally cuts Draco’s unending cries that they have to get Harry, he will do it himself even if he is just one meter and ten centimeters tall.

Draco is a charming b-. Draco is charming, boy, child or adult trapped in a kid’s body. He gets an invitation and a layout of the Longbottom’s house. Narcissa then dons a pair of sensible country boots that she doesn’t mind getting dirty with mud and barely sleeps for the next ten days. Her skin suffers from it greatly, mind you.

By day three she has successfully stolen the rat Scabbers from the Burrow. She was going to switch it with a real pet rat, but it escapes and she can’t go chasing it. Then she begins a ten-days terror program on the Longbottoms. Footprints on the flowerbeds, upsetting the warding charms on the doors, definite signs of tampering in the chimney… Augusta Longbototm is many things, but she is certainly not a fool and by day four she is at the Ministry demanding help form the Auror office. It takes five freaking days for them to send a couple or aurors down. Narcissa is incensed on her behalf.

She waits until Dumbledore sends Moody down to the house. Moody casts extra protection charms and lays some traps and that night Narcissa pushes a stunned Pettigrew into what seems the nastiest of all of the traps. The one Dumbledore told Moody not to use but he still prepared the moment he left. In goes Pettigrew, stunned and wounded because Narcissa is under a lot of stress and she might have tortured him a bit.

Narcissa and Draco are there to greet Sirius, their BELOVED cousin (all capitals so no one dares says otherwise) when he is released from Azkaban. She has him shaved, washed and all set in a nice London house before Dumbledore can even begin to say “unfit for taking care of an underage boy”. At six years and four months Harry leaves the Dursleys and moves with his godfather.  

 And then it’s all nice for a while until Pettigrew escapes Azkaban, meets Lucius in the continent and together bring Voldemort back. There is a war. People grow more and more afraid of Draco and he has more attempts on his life than Harry ever had. Narcissa kills Bellatrix and doesn’t even think about it.

And, one day, a young handsome gentleman with shiny black hair arrives accompanied by a sullen lanky young man with streaks of pink in his hair. Draco labels the lanky young man as the ugliest adult he has even seen. The handsome young gentleman introduces himself as Harry Potter and asks if perhaps Draco remembers him?

The burning fire inside Draco disappears. There is only hot air and ash.

The ugly lanky young man is adult Draco, of course, governed by an eight-year-old who has completely destroyed his hair.  Harry, his Harry, is just amused at Draco’s indignation that they allowed this to happen. Apparently Child Draco was a handful to deal with.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to find you,” handsome gentleman Harry says, and he is so warm and beautiful that Draco wants to cry. He doesn’t even care about how ugly is adult body is because once he is back in it Harry grabs his hands and doesn’t let go until they are back home.

[helloalycia]

black mercy // kara danvers

summary: when you're exposed to black mercy intended for Supergirl, you find yourself in your perfect dream world. You just didn't expect it to hurt so much.

warning/s: mentions of implied homophobia and losing your family.

author's note: this hit a lil too close to home lol

masterlist | wattpad 

"Kara? You home?" I called out after entering her apartment with the key she gave me. "I've got food!"

When I got no response, I closed the front door and set the takeout on the kitchen table. She'd told me to meet her here, so where was she?

I was about to go and check her bedroom, but I stopped when I saw some weird glowing plant-looking thing on the floor by the couch. Curiosity got the best of me and I edged closer to it, wondering what the hell it was.

I screeched when it suddenly leaned towards me, knocking me off my balance and sending me into a tunnel of black.

–

I woke up to my alarm going off and out of instinct, I stretched my arm out and smacked the top of my clock. It took me a moment to open my eyes, as usual, and I reached across the bed for Kara, but she wasn't there. My eyebrows scrunched together as I finally opened my eyes, only to widen them instantly at what I was seeing.

"What the..." I sat up immediately, taking in my surroundings.

I was in my bedroom, back at home. The one I grew up in. The one I had lived in until four years ago, when I came out to my family and they kicked me out. Huh?

"Y/N? Darling, are you up?"

I felt my heart drop to my stomach when I heard my mum's voice from downstairs. It had been so long since I'd heard her talk to me without hatred in her voice...

"Mum?" I jumped out of bed cautiously, but when she called my name out again, the little kid in me forgot about questioning what was happening, and instead led me to opening my door. "Mum?!"

"You're awake, great. Do you want eggs? I'm making them for Haris," she called upstairs.

I moved to the bannister, desperate to see her face, and leaned over to see her standing at the bottom of the stairs. I froze as she smiled up at me like nothing had happened. Like she hadn't screamed in my face about how I was a disgrace to my family, to my religion. Like she hadn't told me she hated what I had chosen and she hadn't kicked me out without warning.

"Well?" she asked again, and I felt my mouth go dry.

I couldn't form a response as I straightened up, taking a step back. I was standing in the corridor of my upstairs childhood home. My mum was calling me, asking me about breakfast that she was cooking for the brother I hadn't seen in four years. Something was definitely wrong.

–

"Sshh, she's waking up now..."

I blinked my eyes open slowly, feeling a headache coming on. I tried to sit up and felt someone help me. When I looked up, I saw it was my mum sat beside me, smiling with concern.

I felt my breathing pick up again, shaking my head. If this was a dream, it was the most realistic dream I'd ever had.

"You fainted, Y/N, how are you feeling?" my mum asked, squeezing my hand gently.

"I broke your fall in case you were wondering," a familiar voice spoke, and I turned my head to see my brother, Haris, sat on the chair opposite me.

"Haris," I breathed out, eyes wide with shock.

"You're acting weird," he commented, leaning forward to take a better look at me. "You must have really hit your head."

I began to look around with panic and confusion, noticing I was downstairs now, in the living room. What the hell was happening?

"Okay, I can't find an ice pack, but there was a bag of frozen vegetables that should do the trick."

I stood up, backing away now, when I saw my dad entering the living room, holding a bag of frozen vegetables. When he noticed me, he brightened up.

"Oh, you're awake, honey," he said with relief. "How's your head?"

I looked between the three of them with disbelief. They were staring at me as if I was the strange thing here, as if I was acting insane.

"What the hell is going on in here?" I said, shaking my head. "This... this can't be real. You guys... this... this isn't real!"

"Baby, what are you talking about?" my mum asked with concern. She stood up and moved forward, resting a hand on my head as if she was inspecting it.

I wanted to back away, I knew I should have. This wasn't real. But as soon as she touched me, my breath escaped me and I felt like a little kid all over again. She was staring at me like an endearing mother, not even an ounce of hatred present in her eyes. I didn't realise how much I missed that until I had it again.

"You can't be real," I said, forcing myself to push her hand away.

"Usually I would make fun of you, but you're starting to worry us," Haris commented, standing up and moving forward to rest a hand on my arm. "You okay?"

I shook him off, stepping away. "No! This isn't real! What is happening?"

"Y/N–"

"Where is Kara?" I asked, looking around as if she'd suddenly show up. "Kara?!"

"Who is Kara?" Haris whispered loudly to our parents.

I glared at him. "Kara is–" I stopped speaking when the words escaped me. I blanked for a moment, furrowing my eyebrows. "She's..." I racked my brain desperately, until finally it clicked. "She's my girlfriend, Kara is my girlfriend!"

"You have a girlfriend?" my mum asked me, slightly confused.

I was growing agitated as I clenched my jaw. This wasn't real. If it was, I wouldn't be here.

I stormed off, making my way to the front door and leaving the house, expecting to find an exit to this insane dream I was having, but nope. I was still at my house, standing on the front porch and staring out into the street.

"Y/N, if you're acting weird because it's the first time telling us about your new girlfriend, you shouldn't be," my dad said, and I turned around to see he had followed me outside. "It's great that you've got a girlfriend! We'd love to meet her if you want us to."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, cocking my head to the side as I watched the man before me smiling my way.

"You... you what? You're okay with me being gay?"

"I thought we went through this already," he said, a little confused. "We hugged, cried and said it didn't matter, remember? Like a year ago?"

I thought about it, wondering if I had genuinely had a brain injury at this point. Would I know that though? Probably not. Either way, I was confused about this. They were supposed to hate me. I hadn't see them since... wait, since when?

"You should come inside and we can have breakfast together," my dad continued, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and leading me back inside the house. "Might make you feel better. What d'you say, Y/N/N?"

I glanced at him, expecting him to laugh in my face and call this a joke. I could only remember him as an angry, bitter man, refusing to utter a word my way. Yet here we were. It felt so real that I almost believed it was. Maybe all that stuff I was remembering hadn't happened. They were okay with me. They still loved me. I had my family back.

–

"This isn't a fair game," I pointed out to Haris, trying not to laugh. "You're tall and lanky. You take up half the net."

Haris rolled his eyes playfully. "Just have a go, come on."

I sighed dramatically before setting the football on the grass and backing up. Taking a deep breath, I ran forward and kicked the ball the hardest I could. It flew forward and I was confident it would go in, but one stretch of his arm and Haris had blocked it.

"For fuck's sake," I muttered as he laughed.

"Language!" my mum called from the barbecue.

I spun around and saw my parents stood side by side, cooking burgers on the grill. I smiled at the sight, even if my mum was giving me a knowing look.

"Sorry," I apologised, before looking back to Haris. "See what I mean by unfair?"

"Go and get my goalie gloves from the table by the door and we can switch positions," he said, giving in.

"Why do I need gloves and you don't?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow. "You doubting my skills?"

He chuckled. "No, but you have a tendency to rat me out to mum when the ball hits your fingers and hurts. Remember last time?"

I laughed and began to walk inside. "Fair point. Give us a second."

"Forgetting something?" my mum called out when I walked past her.

I stopped and looked at her, seeing her pat her cheek jokingly. I playfully rolled my eyes, but headed to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm coming right back," I informed her knowingly.

"Do you have to be leaving to show me you love me?"

"So dramatic," I mumbled, but a smile was on my lips as she laughed.

I headed inside and to the table by the front door, spotting Haris's goalkeeper gloves. As I picked them up, I heard a knocking on the front door. I dropped the gloves and went to answer it, wondering who could be stopping by at dinner time.

When I opened the door, I noticed a blonde headed woman looking around with a puzzled expression.

"Er, can I help you?" I asked with confusion, gaining her attention.

She met my eyes and widened her own, immediately moving forward and pulling me into a hug.

"Oh Rao, I was so scared," she got out, mumbling into my shoulder.

"Er..." I paused as she pulled away. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

Her blue eyes softened as a frown appeared on her lips. "No... you can't be in that deep already. I went straight to Alex. You can't have forgotten already..."

I shook my head, feeling uncomfortable. "Forgotten what? And who is Alex? Who are you?"

The blonde swallowed hard as she refused to break our gaze. "Y/N, it's me, c'mon. It's Kara. Your Kara."

"I don't know a Kara," I said, shaking my head and already making a move to close the door. "Sorry–"

"Y/N, no!" she cut me off, barging through the door roughly, entering my house.

I widened my eyes, growing angry. "Hey, you can't just come in here without permission! I'll call the police if you don't leave!"

She didn't seem the least bit concerned by my threat as she stopped with surprise, at the bottom of my stairs. She looked around slowly, as if taking everything in with great caution.

"This... this is your parents' house," she said with realisation, eyes focused on the family photos hung on the wall. "The house you grew up in."

"What the hell are you going on about?" I asked her, before shaking my head and pulling the front door open wider. "Look, you need to leave."

She met my eyes with apologetic ones. "Your perfect fantasy is here. Which means they're here too. Your family..."

"Who the hell are you?" my dad asked, and I realised the three of them had entered the hall with defensive expressions. He looked to me with concern. "Honey, are you okay?"

I nodded as the three of them stood by me protectively. "I'm good. She just barged in here. She won't leave."

"If you don't leave, we're calling the police," Haris threatened, glaring at the strange blonde.

The blonde ignored him and looked directly at me. "Y/N, I'm so sorry I let this happen. I really am. I didn't think... Rao, this isn't good. Look, you have to listen to me. This isn't real. None of this is real. They aren't your parents!"

I furrowed my eyebrows. Why would a complete stranger just come in here and say all of that? Why would they tell me this?

"Get the hell out of our house," my mum growled angrily, stepping in front of me. "You don't know anything!"

"Y/N, please listen to me!" the stranger continued, her voice pleading as she stepped forward to get to me, but Haris stood by my mum's side. "You're trapped here because of an alien parasite called Black Mercy. You're its host and it's making you think this is your perfect reality so it can trap you here, but it's not!"

"Alien parasite...?" I questioned with the utmost confusion.

"Don't listen to her, honey," my dad reassured, resting a hand on my shoulder.

"You're leaving now," Haris said angrily, grabbing the blonde by the arm.

She tried to budge, mumbling, "Damn it, no powers," before attempting to resist his strong hold.

"Get her out of here," my mum told him, moving me away so he could lead her to the door.

"Get off me– Y/N! Please listen! You have to get out of here yourself! You have to resist it yourself otherwise you'll be stuck here and I can't get back to you!" She tried to get out of Haris' grip, but he was using both hands now, almost dragging her to the door.

I felt myself growing concerned for her wellbeing as he tried to pull her out of here, but she was fighting her hardest to escape his grasp and get to me.

"You have to come back to us, Y/N!" she yelled, tears escaping her eyes. "Come back to me, your girlfriend, Kara! Remember? We live together and we love each other and you are my world and I can't lose you!" She managed to escape Haris' grasp and run towards me, but my dad kept her at bay.

I felt my mouth drying out as she watched me with a broken expression, blue eyes glassy with tears.

"Nia and Alex and Brainy and J'onn, they're all waiting for you back home!" she shouted, shaking her head. "I can't get you out of here, but you have to listen to me and reject this world. Please!"

I watched as she was being dragged to the door by my brother and father, and it was as if something had suddenly clicked, because I remembered who she was.

"Kara!" I shouted, my eyes widening with realisation.

She stopped struggling as a grin appeared on her face. "Yes! It's me! You're remembering!"

I felt my breathing grow heavier as they pushed her out the front door and slammed it shut. I ran forward to go to her, but they stopped me.

"Y/N, you can't listen to that crazy person!" Haris said, before waving his goalie gloves in the air. "C'mon, we were having fun!"

I shook my head, trying to push past him. "Haris, just let me past–"

"Honey, we've got a barbecue to get back to," my dad said, a smile on his face as if he hadn't just kicked Kara out.

I stepped back, shaking my head, about to argue, but I bumped into my mum.

"Darling, we made dinner, we shouldn't let it get cold," she said, resting her hands on my shoulders.

I looked between the three of them and saw the excitement on their faces. But none of it was real. The love they were showering me with, the nostalgia of it all, it wasn't real.

But Kara was.

"I would do anything for this to be my reality," I said, feeling my throat close up. "All I ever wanted was to have you in my life. To approve of who I am."

"We do," my mum said, caressing my face.

I leaned into her touch, my eyes growing blurry because of the tears forming. "I wish that were true. God knows what I would give for that to be true." I let go of her and shook my head. "But it's not. Because this isn't real."

"Y/N–"

I closed my eyes as tightly as I could. "This isn't real. I know it isn't. So let me go! It's not real! None of it!" I breathed out before shouting, "Let me go!"

When I opened my eyes again, they were heavy, like bricks were sitting on top of them. I forced them open, looking around and seeing the medical room I was in. I wasn't in my house. My parents weren't here.

"Y/N!"

I sat up slowly, seeing Kara speeding towards me.

"Kara, wait–"

But Kara ignored Alex as she moved forward to embrace me. Her tears soaked my shirt and she held on tight as if I would disappear. I stopped paying attention after that, trying to understand that I was no longer with my family. They were gone.

Kara pulled away and I felt her eyes on me, but I didn't meet them.

"Kara, give her a minute," I heard Alex say, pulling her back, before mumbling, "Remember how you felt?"

My mouth felt dry and my eyes were aching as I held in tears. I tried to maintain my breathing as I looked up to Kara and Alex. Brainy and J'onn were there, too, quiet and in the background.

"What just happened?" I asked, my voice raspy and ready to break at any second.

Nobody answered at first, probably debating between them who would speak. Finally though, Brainy spoke up.

"You were exposed to an alien parasite called Black Mercy. It's purpose is to find a host and make them dream of their perfect fantasy world whilst slowly killing them. Kara went in after you, managing to coax you out of it."

I nodded to show I'd heard him, but I was still trying to process it all. My family still hated me. They didn't want to see me. They pretended I didn't exist. Nothing had changed.

Except I knew what it could have been like if they had accepted me.

"Can you all get out, please?" I asked, finally finding words.

"Y/N–"

"Now, please?" I cut Alex off with an empty stare.

She nodded slowly and everybody began to leave. Kara hesitated, torn between staying and leaving. Only when Alex tugged on her arm did she finally join them in leaving.

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to regulate my breathing, but it kept getting quicker and quicker as I subconsciously imagined the world I'd just been ripped from. I squeezed tears out and opened my eyes, half-hoping to see my family again, but I was still sat in a medical bay at the DEO.

My breathing was becoming impossible to control now, speeding up, along with my heart rate. Tears were uncontrollable as they flooded from my eyes, making it impossible for me to see clearly.

All I kept thinking about was how I would never have it. I would never have them in my life, loving me and being there for me and treating me like they used to. It was a dream. An impossible one.

I was shaking, my head tucked in between my legs as I tried to stop hurting myself by thinking about it, but I couldn't.

I felt arms wrap around me and instinctively tried to shove them away, but I soon realised it was Kara and let her hold me.

"I'm sorry," she muttered hoarsely. "I'm so sorry, Y/N."

She rubbed my back soothingly and stayed with me as I cried it all out, mumbling incoherent things. She didn't question me or make me explain anything, she simply stayed with me and unknowingly reminded me what I had here, in my reality.

Eventually I stopped crying, but I stayed there, not wanting to leave her warm embrace. It would make it all real, everything that happened. I would have rather just stayed here in my little protective Kara bubble. But I knew I couldn't.

"How did this happen?" I asked Kara, my voice cracking.

Kara swallowed hard. "I found you in my apartment. Somebody who knows my identity, an enemy, was targeting me. But it got to you instead. Alex is still trying to find out who... I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never meant for this to happen."

I lifted my head from her chest and met her eyes. "This wasn't your fault, Kara. I don't want you blaming yourself."

Kara smiled sadly. "I should have kept you out of this. Kept you safe."

I rested a hand on her cheek and stroked it with my thumb. "You saved me. If you hadn't come after me, I'd still be there."

A tear escaped her eye and she pulled away, wiping it with her finger. "I thought, for a moment back there, that I wouldn't be able to convince you. That I'd lost you for good. Your perfect world was having your family back... I can't compete with that."

I didn't know what to say because now that I thought about it, there was a chance I could have stayed. I could have given in to the part of me that wanted to believe it was real, and eventually I would have.

Instead, I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her in for a hug. I closed my eyes and revelled in her comfort, glad I hadn't made the mistake of staying.

When I pulled away, she rested a hand on my cheek and met my eyes with her determined blue ones.

"I love you so much," she spoke gently. "I need you to know that."

"I do," I said, resting my hand on hers. "I love you, too, Kara."

She looked between my eyes as if trying to find some doubt, and I sensed the nervousness in hers.

"You never need to compete with that," I said to her with as much reassurance as I could. "I picked you. I'll always pick you."

"But you want them, too, and I can't give you that," she said with disappointment.

"They don't want me," I reminded her, my eyes stinging a little. "Deep down, I guess, yeah, it would be my perfect world. Having them back. Isn't that all any kid wants?" I sighed, my jaw hurting from clenching my teeth unknowingly. "It doesn't mean anything. I've dreamt about it before. The only difference is, this time it felt real. That doesn't mean I don't love what I have now. That I don't love you. Because I really do, Kara."

Kara nodded, but she still seemed hesitant. I didn't blame her. I'd almost lost her to an alien parasite.

I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers, closing my eyes as she began to kiss back. It wasn't long, but I hoped she understood the truth to my words – that I truly loved and appreciated her. The despite everything that had happened, despite how much I wished my family would magically call me back and tell me they loved me, I still wanted Kara. And I always would.

We pulled apart breathlessly, eyes locked.

"I love you," I told her simply, offering a small, broken smile.

She mirrored my expression, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"I love you, too," she whispered before hugging me again, tightly and desperately.

I closed my eyes and hoped that when I opened them, I'd still be in her arms.

I was.

[lunariumarcs]

Infused.

Human AU but magic still exists.

- This is mostly Shangella related

- Angella is a new immortal, born in the 1910s, in this year of 2020, she’s just brushing over 100 years old

- Immortals are very rare because they live a few thousand years but only reproduce 1-2 times in their lives

- Angella’s parents are old immortals and live in a very old town located in europe/asia (take your pick). Angella wanted to settle down somewhere new and put her roots down. She moved to the Americas, wanting to discover the new world and get away from the wars. She lives now in an old neighbourhood (once brand new, as part of the city’s shiny urban plan to encourage larger families and close knit communities. She’s watched it slowly crumble and decay. There are always potholes in the cracked roads, there’s always a drug trade happening on Tuesday evening.)

- she keeps her home open for the kids of the neighbourhood, gives them food and clothes, helps them with their homework, gives them life advice and sometimes a bed to sleep in

- She’s fortunate enough to own a two story town house. it sticks out among the building complexes on the street. Each building is no taller than three stories. There are two balconies on each floor, one for every small apartment.

- She marries Micah at some point. she feels drawn to his eyes, kind and dark at the same time. he comes from an old family of magic and embraces her immortality with excitement

- together they have glimmer. she ages slower than normal humans and Angella helps her learn cosmetic techniques so that she can look older than she actually is

- Micah grows old faster than Angella anticipates and for the first time, she realizes how she will most certainly outlive him (and all of the people she knows in her little town)

- He passes away when Glimmer is nearly fifty. Angella wonders if she will outlive her daughter as well. she hates to dwell on it so instead, she pours more love into Glimmer

- Glimmer leaves to explore the world, wanting to get to know it better. She spends three decades away from home, fakes her death in a boating accident while visiting the Arctic. She sends a copy of her new credentials in a letter to her mother

- Angella knows she should do the same, to avoid the suspicion. it is not unheard of for a mother to outlive her child, but it is still very rare. Still, she doesn’t bother. Most of the neighbour hood has passed away and blossomed into a new generation. The children she partially housed keep her immortality a secret as payment for her eternal kindness.

- The pandemic hits - Angella doesn’t flinch. She’s seen plagues and war before. She stays inside, limits her interaction with others and does her best to provide for her neighbourhood, like she always has.

- She’s sitting on her balcony one night, watching a Honday Accord loiter in the ally between the buildings across the street. Like most of the buildings on the street, it has no more than three floors.  One of the buildings has a giant lease sign hanging in the front yard. It has been posted there for the better part of the last decade. She swirls the brandy around her glass and wonders when someone will tear it down.

- The balcony next door slides open and lanky, haggard woman shuffles out in a pair of pink slippers. She wears a red turtle neck sweater and a pair of tight, black pants. Her hair stays tied in a low braid behind her head. A few pieces fall forward to frame her face, highlighting her prominent cheekbones. Despite the dimming sunset, the largest pair of sunglasses sits on the crook in her nose.

- The smell of her wafts over and Angella can’t help but inhale a lingering breath. She smells like faded perfume and some odd combination of magic - sage and brown sugar and the salt of the sea. Angella looks pensively into the street and clenches her teeth. It had been so many years since magic had been a presence in her life.

- Angella has never seen this woman around before. she must have moved in recently.

- The woman huffs a deep sigh as she lights a cigarette between her lips. she never takes a puff of it. The smoke does well to mask the scent of her magic and Angella doesn’t have to spend another thought on the things she used to know and the life she used to have

- The woman entertains herself with a book and Angella spends the better part of the evening ignoring her

- A man sprints around the block, shouting incomprehensible words that bounce around the sides of the crumbling buildings and echo out into the sky. He reaches the Accord and pounds in the window, desperately. She can hear sirens a few blocks away. Finally, the door unlocks and the man jumps in. The Accord squeals into the street and rips away. Three police cars round the corner and gun them down.

- Angella looks over at the woman, who had abandoned her book just to watch

- “That was certainly the most eventful thing i’ve seen all week.” Angella comments

- The woman chuckles, deep and quiet behind her hand, “At least I know where to find the cheep drugs around here.”

- “I’ve done my fair share of cocain. trust me, you’ll want to find yourself a better dealer. i find cannabis more appealing, personally. but you seem pretty busy with your nicotine.”

- she snuffs out the stump in the crystal ash trey and lights another, “they’re trying to make them more relevant, putting them in a battery pack and lacing them with perfumes so they smell more like candy and less like rat poison.” she makes no move to puff from the cig in her hand, “but they wonder why all the kids are getting lung cancer.”

- “you must be fun at parties.”

- “i don’t do parties.”

- “ah.”

- There is a broad stretch of silence. Angella attempts to fill it, “My name is Angella. If you need anything, ask me - I know everything about this neighbourhood.”

- “Call me Aluna.” She takes Angella’s hand and they shake over the rail of their balconies.

- They spend the rest of the night locked in conversation. They stop only when the sun starts to peak over the horizon and Aluna snuffs out the last of her cigarettes, burnt out and never smoked.

- Angella spends the morning excitedly drafting a letter to Glimmer

sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes

[heartbreakgrill]

The Walk Home; John Mulaney

Eyes flicker. A head to toe, the anatomy of a girl: Her hair, short yet long and unnaturally naturally curled, the sight of her late yet early morning because she snoozes her alarm at least once and considers it a huge problem. Her eyes, focusing, so harshly on the script in front of her, her eyebrows bent at a 45° angle, creating even deeper creases in her forehead from her years of focus. So many little things that reflected her persona so gracefully he wanted to vomit.

You see, John was never a romantic person. People always said it should come easy, but he couldn't believe it. Everything in life took work, ethic, time. Why would there be an exception for lové?

He couldn't fathom it all: the skin and heat and loving one person so much it physically hurt your heart if you couldn't be with them. He felt that way sometimes, like his heart was screaming because he hadn't seen you when you went home that weekend, like it was digging itself out of his chest, but lighting itself back up when you bustled into the table read.

He nearly jumped from his seat for joy, now that you were sitting across the room from him. Highlighter twirling between fingers, leg bouncing quietly up and down, lips moving so carefully when her own lines came up.

He was so, so confused. Was this love? How could it be when he hadn't done anything to gain it. To earn it. It was like money, right? You had to put in work, ignore the cogs in the machine, press on past them. And that's how the product of love would be made, right? He'd never even held your hand, only served occasional hugs after shows, in greeting, when departing one another. And it's not like the two of you were best friends: You were good friends, but it wasn't the cheesy "if I tell her I love her I'll lose her and ruin our friendship."

No. He just didn't have the right to love you when you weren't even a thing.

Bill brought him from his id, slapping a hand onto his shoulder as he exclaimed, "Wanna call a wrap on this, Mulaney?"

John flinched, "What?" The entire room of actors and other writers stared back at him, eagerly waiting for him to wrap the table read. He was lead writer for this weeks sketches, so he had total control: And it was 10:30 pm.

"Oh, yeah, let's wrap it up. Good job, everyone!" He clapped his hands in the air in mock excitement.

The entire room broke out into a loud, uncontrollable crowd. People flooded the doors, others walked across the room to talk to their preferred coworkers. You sat there for a moment, flipping through your script, with that confused expression on your brows.

"Mulaney-" bill slapped his other shoulder, and John seethed through his teeth.

"I'm a literal crack mom, Bill, my shoulders are going to wither away to absolute dust if you don't go easier on me."

The room was empty enough now that you heard this and giggled lightly. Your eyes lifted to meet his and- did your grin just widen?

John smiled as Bill replied, "Okay, Patricia. Wanna go get some drinks with Seth and I?" He motioned behind him where Seth Myers was packing up his bag.

"Oh-" he glanced over to you and your eyes quickly flickered away. You began to pack up, "No, that's okay. I'm really tired and I just wanna curl up in bed."

"Okay," Bill began to back away as Seth headed for the door, "See ya tomorrow."

"Yeah, see ya." John slowly slipped his script into his backpack followed by his water bottle, pencils, thoughts.

You slung your messenger bag over your shoulder, waving to anyone who was watching. You realized it was only you and John.

"G'night, John-" you yawned midway through his name. You were the only one who addressed him as such- which didn't help his feelings.

"Nigh- wait, you live on the other side of the city?" He interrupted his own words.

You stopped and turned in the doorway to face him, "Yeah, why?"

"Do you always walk home alone?" John pulled the backpack over his shoulders. He stepped towards you.

"No, Seth usually goes with me. But, apparently, he's getting drinks with Bill. We live in the same building," You addressed John's slight confusion.

"Okay, so I'll walk you home."

John pushes past you, out of the door, expecting you to follow. Was he being confident? Perhaps. Or maybe he just didn't wanna see a pretty girls face on the front of a newspaper tomorrow. (Not that ugly girls deserved that- God, what are his thoughts?)

You caught up to the long-legged boy at the elevator- "John, it's okay. I can handle myself- I have pepper spray!"

You showed off the can, dangling from the lanyard housing your apartment keys.

John nodded, "No, I know. But you're also 5'5" and, what? 95 pounds?"

"130." You jutted a rounded hip. Sure, you were short, slightly chubby, and had no upper body strength, but: "John, you yourself said your a crack mom. 6' and, what, 50 pounds?" You mocked just earlier statement.

"Hey, hey," he followed you into the elevator, "Together, we are a force of nature."

"Yeah, okay."

A round of gossip, about both the script and the show in general, stemmed from the elevator ride, stretched into the walk to the subway. It was, unsurprisingly, dead in the subway, save for a passed out homeless man and a group of frat-like boys making a ruckus in the back.

You took a seat on the bench closest to the front, far away from the others sat a seat over, afraid he'd overstep his boundaries.

"Aren't you glad I came?" John motioned to the men, "Smells like pig."

You giggled, "Gross. And, yes, a little bit, I am."

The doors shut and you braced yourself, an instinct that all New Yorkers knew. John forgot because he had gotten lost in your face, swimming in the old makeup beginning to oil around your nose, smudge black under your eyes. They were watery, the contacts inside tired and ready to be taken out. Your jacket was bunched at the sleeves, which were lazily falling over your forearms. The one side of it was falling off your shoulder, and the strings were uneven.

Gorgeous.

"Oh-" John fell into, his elbow crashing into your rib cage. You yelped in pain, pushing him off of you desperately.

"Sorry!" You exclaimed when you realized your reaction put him on the ground. You stood quickly, only to fall back onto the bench because of the force of motion. John began to die of laughter, and you quickly followed.

Bent at the waist, hands propped on knees, guffaws hurling from the back of your throat created lines around your eyes. Your shiny teeth framed the laughter, secondhand creases finding depth from the motion.

The frat boys whoops didn't end, and the homeless man didn't wake up. The subway didn't stop going forward, the tracks didn't stop buzzing, and rats beneath didn't stop running. The world kept spinning- but your eyes locked, and he swore the entire world was shocked by the electricity. You wanted to kiss him, and he felt like he wanted to kiss you, too.

But your stop pushed your forward, on your knees. He stood up and offered his hands to you. You quickly got off, or else you would have stranded.

"Well, that was one hell of a subway ride." You exclaimed, stopping for John to catch up, only for you to fall behind.

He slowed his pace, "Uh, I'd say so."

You grabbed onto the railing and trotted up the stairs, into the cool night of New York City, 69th street. "I don't know why we don't hang out more often."

John wasn't behind you, but he was following you because you lead the way to your apartment. It was at the end of the street, but his heart was in his throat.

"Uh, yeah," he choked.

"I mean, not unless you would want to."

"No! I mean, yeah, yes, I want to. That'd be fun! That would be coolio," He slapped his fist into his palm.

"Coolio? Ya know, for being great at comedy and writing, you suck at getting your words out sometimes."

Speechless.

You stepped through a puddle on accident, gasping as the water seeped through the holes meant to air out your Converse. John I've reacted quickly, scared you were falling and not just tripping over water.

"Oh, hey!" He grabbed you around the waist, tugging you to his other side. Your feet had completely lifted off the ground, a gasp choking itself in your throat.

You gripped onto him by his biceps, which had emitted some unknown strength out of him. He seemed surprised by his sudden reaction, too, which is probably why he attempted to pull his arms off of you subtly. However, because of the fight or flight still thickening his strength, he pushed you away from him. The gasp let itself out and you fell backwards, catching yourself on a set of steps.

John felt like vomiting- he even leaned his palms onto his knees, ready for the acid reflex to present itself on your shoes. He was sweating, small beads covering his forehead. You were crying, head in hands and shoulder shaking- wait, no. You were laughing!

You were laughing your ass at John, who had just presented his crush on you in the best way possible. You'd thought they were there, the feelings. You didn't want to say anything for fear of embarrassing him, but after that whole fiasco- he definitely liked you.

"John!" You screeched in between laughter, clutching your stomach now.

He found the strength to laugh with you, completely letting himself go. He plopped onto the step beside you. "I can't believe I just fucking did that."

"That- was- the- funniest- thing-" you shook your head, hair whipping back and forth across your forehead, "EVER!"

After many more minutes of witch-like laughter, you finally let out one big breath of air. "Oh, my God. That was the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"Ever?" John's cheeks were already red from the lack of oxygen being emitted to his head, but he surely did feel himself blush at that one. "Out of everything that has ever happened to you, that was the funniest?"

"Yes!"

"I don't know, I've seen funnier, moments that didn't include some stupid, crack addict looking, lanky ass, weirdo. Just the pretty girl was involved," he sputtered out, unaware of his words.

You smiled lightly, eyes lit with admiration. "He did it again."

John scoffed at himself, dropping his head in his hands, "He did. You must think I am the biggest idiot in the entire world."

"I don't," you scooted closer to him, leaning down so your lips were level with his left ear, "I don't think you're an idiot at all. I think you've let yourself get too tense over me. I mean, I think it's so sweet that at the first sign of trouble, you pulled me away from it all. But, you realized you were holding me and threw me away for fear of embrassement and rejection. I want you to know that there's no reason to be afraid."

John's tense shoulders relaxed and he slowly lifted his head from his hands. It tilted to the side, to face her own. Their lips were incredibly close, the air between them solely shared for the both of them.

"What?" His eyebrows scrunched up, face heating up once again. "Why?"

"Because I like you, too, John."

He wasted no time in pressing his lips into yours, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled as flush against him as he could, letting all of the emotion he'd been bottling up release into kinetic energy. You pushed back with as much of yourself as you could offer, tired but full of your own emotion.

"Hey! You two! Stop shoving your stupid love down my throat! My cats and I are trying to sleep!" A voice from the upper windows of the building behind you caused your lips to peel apart.

Laughter strewn from your lips as you carefully stood, kissing every two seconds, and made your way back down the road.

[hermankopusortizorsumshite]

PART ONE!! PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY READ PART TWO!

WARNINGS!!! Depictions of blood, fear, drug abuse, heroin abuse, and smut. Some smut always some smut. Kozik’s too hot not to smut all the time. Aynwhom. This is really long, I’m sorry. But enjoy. Also its so angsty and break your heart, but put it back together. I promise.

Lastly here’s some little babies from the first part:

“Alex! I’m home! Me and H are headed to hang out. You makin’ dinner?” She asks as she steps into the little two bedroom apartment. Her brother sat at the table looking through some files. The lanky, tall blonde following right behind her caught Alexander Trager’s attention for one second before he waved them off.

“Busy, you make dinner.” He drones as he continues reading. The two scamper down the hall to her room, Herman ditches his kutte at her door, hanging it on a hanger on her doorknob. He was quick to find his usual spot in the corner on a black beanbag. He was a year older than her, but after being kicked out of his parents’ house, Tig offered to let the kid stay with them considering he was a prospect and his kid sister’s best friend.

She slid open her desk drawer and shrieked at the sight of the fake white rat. Tig, her brother’s famous club nickname, came sprinting down the hall to find the blonde rolling around on the floor and her standing at her desk, arms folded over her chest and a pout on her lips.

“Alex! He put a fake mouse in my desk again!” She whines, tossing it to her brother. He laughs, tossing the rat onto the blonde before shaking his head and walking away. She pulls her hair from its ponytail as she shimmies out of her jeans and into some shorts. Herman, nor her brother, had the guts to tell her she wasn’t twelve anymore. She had a beautiful curvaceous body and some of her clothes were too short. Herman’s eyes drank her in, her beautiful curvy butt and smooth supple skin. She was so pretty and she didn’t even know it. Yanking an old shirt of Herman’s over her head, she gets ready to go make dinner.

“What you gonna make?” Herman asks as they head to the kitchen.

“What are you gonna make?” She retorts, poking him in the chest.

“...Yeah, okay. I’ll get ‘em around. Yeah. Got it.” Her brother claps the phone shut and frowns at the two kids. “Get a bag packed. We’re on lockdown.”

“What’s lockdown?” She asks, eyes flicking between Herman and Tig confused.

“It’s where everyone stays at Teller-Morrow for a few days while we sort some shit out. So I’m gonna head out, you two be there in an hour. No later.” He points a stern finger at the two before he turns and heads to his room. “Oh, and change your clothes. I don’t want guys all over you.” She frowned and ignored him, going into her room and packing the things she needed. Mostly it was shirts, jeans, shorts, sweats, and her favorite pillow and blanket. She had forgotten that Jackson Teller and Opie Winston would be there. They were all close friends in school, not as close as her and Herman of course, but they all coincided well. As she finished packing, she gave a groan and pulled on a pair of leggings instead, as was asked of her by her brother.

“This is so stupid. I had plans, with you of course. But I still had plans!” She whines as Herman takes the bags from her hands and loads them onto his bike. He laughs at her whining.

“I mean, we’re still hanging out. Just, ya know, with three hundred other people.” She stopped walking, her eyes growing wide.

“Three hundred? No, H. I’m not going.” She shakes her head and starts back inside.

“Yes you are!” He calls, grabbing her up and carrying her under his arm to his bike. Strapping on her helmet, he climbs and gets ready, taking off towards TM. She held tight to him as he flew down the back streets, giggling all the way there. “Here, wait a minute. I’ll grab our stuff and I’ll go with you.” He wraps her blanket around her, chuckling at how cute and innocent she looked wrapped up in a pink fluffy blanket with unicorns on it.

“H, can’t we just go back to the apartment? You’re a strong guy, and a prospect. Can’t you just babysit me there?” She crows as she starts back towards his bike.

“No, now come on. It’ll be fun. I promise.” He assures, patting her head like a child. She groaned and headed inside, greeting her brother.

“You and Kozik okay sharing a room?” Tig asks, waving to the young man who walked behind her with two duffels and two pillows.

“Kozi—oh. Yeah, we can share one.” She smiles, giving a nod. Jax was already hitting on girls, Opie was hitting a girl from her class named Donna.

“Celeste, come say hi to everyone.” Tig calls his little sister over to the group of guys he was sitting with. With a shy little wave, Celeste quickly follows Herman to the back room. Once she found it, he was already lying on the bed, chatting on his cellphone.

“...I know. You comin’ to the clubhouse? Oh yeah? I look forward to it. Hey, have a good night baby.” He coos, hanging up. Celeste was waiting with a grin to ask him about this mystery girl.

“Ooh, who’s the girl?” She asks, poking at his sides as she crawls up next to him and covers him with the blanket.

“Oh, no one.” He chuckles, ruffling her curls and absently twisting a single banana curl around his finger.

“Really? You called her baby. And she’s coming here. You have a girlfriend, don’t you!” She squeals, hugging him.

“We’re not official yet, so don’t be flapping about it.” He warns, giving her a smile and nuzzling her forehead.

“Dinner’s ready! Kozik you got a girl here for ya!” Jax shouts, banging on the door. She drops her blanket on the bed and he sees what she’s got underneath. She’s only wearing a sports bra with those same shorts.

“When did you ditch the leggings? You gotta change, your brother’s gonna flip his shit.” She cackles and stands, yanking open the door and heading back to the main clubhouse, giving the woman in the a hall a grin as she sauntered by. Kozik peeks his head out the door to see her sashaying down the hall. Shaking his head, he greets his pretty girlfriend at the door with a smile and a kiss.

“Sorry, she’s just my best friend. That’s the girl I live with, and her brother.” He points out Tig from the bedroom. He leads her into the room and shuts the door, her lips attacking his as they tumbled onto the bed. Kozik finds enough time to yank off her clothes and she pulls off his. He’s two thrusts in when Celeste comes in crying, not noticing at first the two people on the bed. Grabbing a pair of baggy sweatpants she turns to find a crazy scene before her. Kozik was bare naked, deep in his girl and she was in awe. Staring at his body. He was beautiful. The muscle he built from working all summer.

“Christ Celeste! Get out!” He shouts, tossing his shirt at her. Shaking her head, she covers her eyes and heads back down.

“Sorry! I’m sorry.” She cries even harder, yanking his shirt over her head. “Ooh my god.” She whispers, filling her plate. Ten minutes later, Kozik heads down with his girlfriend. He finds her sitting at the table with Jax and Opie, but she’s secluded, nibbling on her plate.

“Baby, I gotta go apologize. I shouldn’t have yelled at her.” He hushes, kissing her cheek and handing her his plate of food.

“I mean, she’s the one who barged in.” He slides into the booth next to Celeste, dropping an arm over her shoulder, only for her to duck from under it and zip away. Grabbing her blanket and pillow, she started searching when she found an empty closet, she shrugged, figuring that would do. Hiding in there, she had a few old blankets in there and a couple extra pillows.

A few hours passed, and when she thought it was safe, she ran to their shared room to get her backpack and ran back.

“Has anyone seen Celeste?” Kozik asks to anyone that would know. Most people shake their heads. Shrugging it off, he grabs Jen’s waist and leads her back to their room. All the while Celeste sat in the closet, doodling the gorgeous figure of Kozik burned into her brain. She wasn’t sure why it stuck, but it did. His strong biceps bulging, the dimples kissing the bottom of his spine, his round butt. Was she thinking about how hot he was? She flips to a new page, starting a list of things she’d need to leave Charming. She was so sick of being in Alexander’s shadow, and under Herman’s arm. Any time a man looked in her direction, it was a big deal. Herman was her date to every single school function. She had decided there, in that closet at eleven twenty-five PM, that once this was over she’d leave Charming, California. She was ready to experience the world. Nodding in confidence, she started to write a letter to her brother and to Herman. At some point she fell asleep, notebook stuffed back into her duffel-bag, using the duffelbag as a pillow.

“I have some more blankets in here—“ Gemma jumps back, grabbing her chest. Heading back down the hall, she knocks on the door of Kozik’s room. The blonde’s sleepy head peeks out, scrubbing his eyes. “Tig’s kid sister is sleeping in the hall closet.” She snorts, jabbing a thumb over shoulder. He pads down the hall, popping open the closet door and laughing. First sliding her duffel back onto his arm, he scoops her up blankets and all and carries her down the hall back the room they shared. He gingerly lays her on the bed before he crawls in next to her. Herman’s girlfriend had gone home for the night saying her dad still gave her a curfew, so she left around one in the morning.

Celeste inhales sharply, rolls over, curling herself around him. He quietly cuddles her to him as he stuffs his nose into the crook of her neck in his sleep. In the morning, as they wake up he finds himself cuddling her a little bit closer as the morning sun comes through the blinds. Pulling her closer to him without a second thought, his lips press gently to the shell of her ear and down her neck. Moaning into his touch, she peeps one eye open and her body goes rigid. Was Herman the one giving her all of these sensations? His sleepy nose found her throat and his lips left lazy kisses across her collarbone.

“H, H.” She whispers, gently shaking him. As his lips press against her throat, he opens his eyes wide, confused as to why he swore he heard her voice.

“Oh shit.” He mutters, jumping outta bed and pacing the floor. All she could do was laugh.

“Christ, H. It’s fine.” She giggles, watching his hands rake through his hair. He gets back into bed, hovering above her as his hand comes up to feel her breasts. Sucking in a breath, she arches into his touch as his lips replace his hand. His tongue flicking out and sucking a nipple into his mouth. He grinds his hips and hers jut up to meet his. She had no idea what he was doing to her but she was in love with it. “Herman.” She gasps as his fingers slip into her under her panties.

“Celeste, baby girl, you have no idea what you do to me. Those short little shorts, oh baby.” He groans in her ear, letting her give a sharp inhale as a response. He loved the way she squirmed under his hands, the way her body responded to him.

“Why-why didn’t you say something?” She asks, rolling against his body. Her hands pull at the fabric of his shorts. She needed anything separating them gone, she yearned so badly to feel the bare skin she’d seen the day before. His hardness rubs against her as he kicks off his shorts and boxers. “You’re so beautiful.” She whispers, taking his cock in her hand and gently stroking it, licking the tip before taking the whole thing in her mouth, making him groan and tighten his hold on her hair.

“Babygirl. If you don’t want to do this please tell me.” He whispers, trying to control the urge to slam into her.

“Herman, you’re my best friend. If I didn’t want this, I wouldn’t be here.” She gushes, kicking off her shorts and panties.

“Baby.” He whispers, smoothing his thumb down her cheek as he smiles at her.

“Don’t kiss me.” She whispers.

“What?”

“Don’t kiss me. It can’t be platonic sex if you kiss me.” She informs, letting him grin down at her.

“Yes, ma’am.” He murmurs in her ear, nipping at her earlobe and pressing hot kisses down her jaw. Sliding on a condom, he slowly slides into her watching her eyes widen at the warm intrusion. “You okay, baby?” He asks, pulling out and slowly pushing back in, forcing his hips into a slow steady rhythm.

“H, if you don’t go any faster I might literally explode.” She giggles, fingers sifting through his golden hair, gripping the back of it. His eyes shut for a moment as he picks up the pace, but he quickly looks back to her again, to find her grinning and gripping tightly to the backs of his upper arms. As they rounded near their high, he felt the hot need to kiss her. He needed her lips on his when he finished. His lips danced dangerously close to the edge of her lips, but he made a promise. Covering her mouth with his hand just as he slammed his lips down to hers, he rode it out before he pulled gently out of her.

Giving a whine at her emptiness, he draws her against him and kisses her cheek and the shell of her ear. “Goddamnit.” He mutters, jumping out of bed and getting dressed in his average jeans, black tee shirt and kutte, pulling on his socks and boots. She laid there, watching him still in pure bliss. He gives her one last glance before he steps into the hall and shuts the door. Grabbing her notebook from her bag, she scribbles down the date and Herman Kozik, the day she fell in love with her best friend’. She waited a few minutes until she found the strength to get up and get dressed. She was feeling confident, slipping into her tightest pair of faded denim shorts, a blue tank top, pulling her hair back into a bun and sliding her converse on her feet she headed down. Kozik’s eyes land on her immediately, steam coming out of his ears seeing her short shorts.

“Morning!” She sing songs, grabbing Herman’s hand and letting him spin her around like he did every morning. But there was something about it that wasn’t the same to Tig. He stared at the two until she started walking towards him. When he saw the little tiny ready marks on her chest and jaw, he knew what had happened.

“Kozik, can I talk to you?” Tig asks, waving him over. Kozik’s heart began to thunder as he made his way over to her brother. Out of earshot from Celeste and everyone else, Tig growls low at the big blonde. “You have sex with my sister?”

“No man.” He retorts.

“Kozik. She’s got little red marks on her chest.”

“Okay, yeah. I did.” He mutters, feeling his heart thunders harder, thinking it might explode. Tig just laughs, pats him on the back.

“I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t one of the other guys here.” He slaps him on the back with a hand before heading back to his breakfast. Kozik stood watching her as she mingled with the other bikers and wives, making him smile. He dared to say he was proud of her. The only problem now, is that every time he looked at her, he saw that girl. The one arched underneath him, begging him for more. He licked his lips as he strolled up, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple before smacking her butt.

The next three days passed pretty quickly and everyone was filtering out to head home. But she wasn’t going home. She had arranged to leave Teller-Morrow with all her belongings to venture off on her own. She’d talked to Tiggy about it and he reluctantly agreed. They’d kept it from Herman as much as they could.

“Alright everyone. You’re all free to leave, if you could all say your goodbyes and get ready to go.” She waves and hugs most o the wives and children of the main bikers.

“Alright baby. I got the car loaded. You sure about this?” Tig asks, gripping his little sister in a tight hug. She nods with a smile.

“Yeah, I gotta stand on my own. Don’t worry Alex, I’ll be back. And I promise to call.” She assures, hugging him tight once more.

“You better. You better go see your lover boy.” She nods, feeling her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. She finds him standing in the shop, working on his bike. Flashing him a grin, she comes up and sits on the ground next to him.

“Hey, pretty blue eyes.” She giggles, knocking his shoulder playfully.

“Hey, you ready to escape this hellhole?” He laughs. She would miss the big grin he always had when he laughed, the way he squinted when he grinned.

“Uh, actually I’m heading to Los Angeles.” She murmurs, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear it. His screwdriver hits the concrete and he looks at her with a confused expression.

“You’re leaving Charming?” He asks, brows furrowed.

“Yeah.” He stands at once, smacking the dirt from his palms on his jeans as he heads in.

“Where you going?” She calls.

“I gotta pack, Celeste.” He calls never turning around.

“Herman, I’m going alone.” She calls. He stops and waits a second. “I’m leaving alone.” She watches as he turns and faces her, stalking towards her. Excitement and fear bubbles in her chest, not sure if he was going to kiss her or kick her ass.

“Alone? Like by yourself? It’s not safe!” He barks, anger storming his pretty blue eyes.

“I’ll be okay, hun. It’s okay. I’m doing this for me and for you.”

“How is this for me?” He thunders, stepping closer.

“Well, as long as I’m here your girlfriend will feel threatened. So, I mean.”

“Right. I’ll go get my stuff.” He chuckles as he turns away from her. She reaches out and grabs his arm.

“Herman Kozik. I’m going alone.” She nods confidently. He faces her, the anger replaced with fear. “I’m going alone.” She whispers, reaching for his face.

“Is it me? Was it the sex? Goddammit. I knew I pressured you. Fuck! I’m sorry!” He babbles, his hands finding her arms and pulling her against him.

“No sweet boy. It’s just time for me to figure out life. You did nothing wrong, sweetheart. I love you, Herman. You’re my best friend in the whole world. This is just something I need to do on my own.” She assures, testing her hands on his chest as it rose fell like crashing waves on a beach.

“And you’re sure?” He asks, pulling himself away from her.

“Yeah, I am. I promise it’ll be okay.”

“Nah, it’s all good.” He nods, popping her door open and waving her into the car.

“Can I-can I hug you?” She asks, reaching for him. Sucking in a sharp breath, he waves her to him.

“Christ, sweet girl.” He groans, gripping her impossibly tight to his chest. “Wait here, I got something for you.” Pushing her away from him, he jogs inside and grabs his sweatshirt, a long sleeved shirt, a tee shirt, and a pocket knife. Jogging back out, he hands her the wad of clothes and drops the knife on top. “It’s one of everything. Ya know, so you don’t forget me. I love you, Celeste. You’re my best friend. You’re sure you don’t want me to go?” He tried once more.

“I’m sure, sweet boy. I love you, H.” She whispers, pressing her lips so lightly to his. “It can’t be platonic if you-“ he smashes his lips to hers.

“Fuck your platonic.” He whispers, giving her a sweet smile and turning to head back to TM. Alex sprints to her wrapping her in a huge hug.

“I love you so much kid. Please please be careful.” He whispers, his eyes glossy with unshed tears.

“I love you too, Alex. Don’t worry, this guy taught me how to fight dirty. I’ll be okay. I’ll call every stop I make. Okay?” She whispers, swiping at his tears.

“Absolutely. I love you, kid. Now go before Kozik gets a second wind.” He chuckles, letting her climb in the car and shutting the door after her, his hand pressed to the glass.

“Bye!” She calls as she waves, pulling out of the parking lot. Kozik paced the bedroom they shared, not sure what to do. He’d never been without her. He supposed he was scared, for her and for himself. Grabbing his kutte and his bike keys, he heads to his bike.

“Kozik, where you headed?” Tig calls, trying to catch up.

“I just wanna make sure she gets out of town okay, I won’t follow her out of Charming, just let me do this. I need this.” He whispers, climbing on his bike and leaving the lot, following the path she took. His eyes landed on her red Honda and he followed her to the edge of Charming. But curiously enough, she stops at the Welcome to Charming’ sign. He watches as she climbs out and her eyes meet his, a hand landing sassily on her hip.

“H, I swear to God-“

“I’m not. Just wanted to watch you leave Charming.” He hushes, finding it near impossible to speak. His heart hurt so bad. His eyes avoided her figure and the general direction of her car.

“Jesus christ. You really are tore up about this. Why?” She asks, stepping closer.

“Because I’ve never been on my own. I’ve always had you. I had to take care of you. I’m scared of what could happen. A million scenarios played in my head the minute you drove out of that parking lot, I just wanted to make sure you got out of Charming safely.” He lied. He would follow her as far as she’d let him go.

“Awe, H. It’ll be good for us.” She hushes, tears filling her eyes when she sees the tears on his cheeks. “Please just go home. It’ll hurt less.” She whispers, reaching for his hand that gripped tightly to the handle.

“It hurts so bad right now.” He mutters, yanking her tightly against his chest, sobbing into her shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sorry Celeste. Whatever I did, I’m so sorry. I’ll take it back.” He gabs into her ear, holding steadfast to her.

“H, it’s not your fault. Listen to me, sweet boy, this isn’t your fault.” She assures.

“It has to be.” He murmurs, nuzzling her neck and gripping her shirt.

“I’ll be back, sweetheart.”

“Not soon enough.”

“Herman,”

“I know. Just give me another minute.” He whispers, tears falling again. She grips his kutte, soaking in as much love as he could give her. “I don’t wanna let go.” He mumbles, sniffling. “Please don’t leave.”

“Hey—-“

“Don’t say anything.” He begs, gripping her hand as she steps away from him. “I love you so much.” He whispers, wiping his face. She mouths ‘I love you’ to him as she grabs the door handle. Climbing into the car, she heads past the sign, breaking his heart once more. The tears fall down his cheeks until she’s out of sight. Kicking his bike to life, he heads to the ugly side of town to do some fighting. He to get her off his mind, his body ached physically and he was exhausted. He missed her so much.

A year away from home had been so good for her. She was in college, working nightly at a club. It was almost time to take a trip home though, when her phone rang.

“I’m sorry, Celeste.” It was a soft, weak whimper through the phone. Her heart chilled, goosebumps covering her body as she began to panic. It was Kozik, she would know that voice anywhere. He never answered her calls, ignored her when Tig tried to help.

“H?” She croaks.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers, she could hear the thickness in his throat, that he’d been crying.

“Herman? What’s going on?” She asks, tossing her apron in the bin and grabbing her keys off the hook. Her boss gave her a confused look, but she waved it off. ‘I gotta go’ she mouths as she runs out the door and starts her car. “Herman? Talk to me hun!” She shouts as she shifts onto the expressway.

“I’m so sorry. You’d hate me.” He whispers, sniffing.

“Herman, it’s gonna be okay. Listen to me! Can you call Tiggy?” She asks, shifting into first gear and jamming her foot to the floor.

“No, I wanna talk to you.” He whimpers.

“Okay hunny. You keep talking to me. Are you in danger?” She feels the tears prick at the corner of her eyes as she drives ninety for Charming.

“Maybe.”

“H! What’s going on?” She shouts.

“I started a bad habit.” He whispers.

“It’s okay. We’ll get through it. You know we can. I got you.” She assures, slot-racing through traffic.

“You left me.” Tears fall down her cheeks.

“I didn’t mean to abandon you. I’m so sorry. Sweet boy, hold on. I’m on the highway. Just hold on.” She coos.

“You’re coming home?” He asks, his voice so brokenly hopeful.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m coming home. Just for you, so hold on for me. Okay?” She cries.

“I’m so sorry Celeste. I shouldn’t have started this. I should’ve just left you alone. I just miss you, ya know?” He cries.

“Herman Kozik, I miss you too. I’m almost there, please hold on. What did you start?”

“Heroin.” He whines. She couldn’t breathe. Heroin killed her mother.

“Herman, you don’t stick that needle in your arm. You got me?” She shouts, fists hitting the steering wheel.

“I can’t.” He cries.

“Herman, hold on. I’m almost to the exit. Have you been hanging out at the clubhouse?” She asks, trying to make conversation.

“No, been too high.” He chuckles.

“Oh Herman, hunny. Don’t use that needle. Do you understand? I’m an hour away.” She informs, handing quaking with their grip on the steering wheel, white knuckles.

“I love you so much Celeste.” He whispers.

“No! Herman no! I love you too. Please just hold on!” She shouts, gripping the steering wheel willing the car to go faster. Shifting into the exit lane, she flies into Charming doing ninety-two miles per hour. “Herman, where are you?” She asks.

“Our old apartment.” He murmurs, the phone dropping and clattering to the floor. Flooring it for his place, she forgets about the cops in this town. She was leading a high speed chase through Charming to get the apartment. Clambering from the car, she sprints inside and up the stairs to the apartment. Kicking at the knob when she finds it locked, a few kicks and she’s into the apartment. He’s on the floor of the living room, arms flopped to the sides barely conscious.

“Oh hunny.” She whispers, grabbing him and hauling him against her.

“Celeste?” He asks, nodding in and out of consciousness.

“Yeah, I’m here sweet boy.” She whimpers, hugging him tightly and sobbing into his shoulder. Dragging him onto the couch, she pulls a blanket over him and slowly walks down the stairs to meet the officers. David Hale, a man she graduated with, Wayne Unser, and five more cops stand there, blue lights flashing.

Celeste gives an awkward wave, toes coming together in embarrassment.

“Celeste Trager?” David calls, shielding the blue lights from his eyes to see her better.

“Hi David!” She calls, voice quaking.

“Jesus Christ Starship! Did you call your brother?” Wayne yells, giving them a signal to shut their lights off as he walks towards her.

“No, I got a weird call from Herman. It was an impromptu trip.” She chuckles, giving Wayne and David a hug.

“Great, next time, call ahead. I have very officer out here wondering why the hell you’re about to get out of this. Kozik hit it again?” He asks, nodding up to the apartment.

“Yeah, how long?” She asks.

“Not sure, Mayans started running heroin maybe two months ago. You better call Tig. He’ll be pissed if you don’t.” Wayne pats her on the shoulder and heads back towards his car. David follows suit, but he hands her a small bag. Naxolone’ is what the label said.

“He doesn’t need it now, but if he overdoses, use it. Find a meaty part of his thigh, arm, or ass, and hit him with this. Use the whole thing.” He informs, pointing to the little vial in the kit.

“David-“

“It’s not a matter of if, dear. It’s a matter of when. Hopefully you’re with him.” He rests a hand on her shoulder before heading to his Jeep and leaving. Heading back up, she takes in the sight before her. The place was a disaster. Clothes, empty boxes, a random things strewn about. She spent five hours cleaning. Pulling out the drawer next to the sink, she found it didn’t open all the way. Digging her fingers to the back, it clicks, and releases the back of the drawer, exposing his collection of drugs. Bile rose in her throat and she ran for the toilet, losing what little she’d eaten into the bowl.

“Who’s here?” Herman shouts, jumping from the couch gun raised and pointed in her direction. Standing and flushing, she washes her face and steps out of the bathroom only to meet the end of his pistol, the cold metal pressed against her forehead. “What?” He asks, staring at her with wide eyes. He’d had this trippy dream before. “Not again. You’re not real.” His hands begin to quake and he drops the gun onto the little table, finding his way to the kitchen. Digging into the drawer, he finds his cache empty and he turns, his eyes taking in the clean apartment around him. Blinking a couple times, his eyes find her again and his breath hitches in throat.

“Hey pretty blue eyes.” She whispers, reaching carefully for him.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” He asks, backing against the counter.

“You called me.” She frowns, eyes searching his.

“I did not.” He hisses, scratching is chest.

“Yeah you did. I drove ninety all the way here. I haven’t even called my brother yet.” She argues, stamping her foot.

“Tell me why you’re here, other than I called you.”

“You kept saying sorry, it scared the shit out of me. When did you start doing heroin? Who got you hooked on it?” She fires, stepping into his personal space. He tried to step back once more but it didn’t work.

“I’m not.”

“Jesus christ Herman! Quit lying to me!” She shouts, grabbing his face in her hands.

“Leave me alone!” He cries, shoving her back against the table. Landing on the chair, it collapses under her weight and one of the legs breaks, sticking into her leg. She gives a shriek, grabbing her leg as blood starts to pool. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” He whimpers, dropping to her side, grabbing at her face.

“Just call Tig.” She hisses, pushing him away from her, hurt that he’d shoved her. His heart broke, seeing her injured. He felt so bad, tears filling his eyes. “Call Tig!” She cries, grabbing at her leg. Grabbing her phone, he finds Tig, seeing the last call two days ago, he dials. He hadn’t called her once since she’d left.

“Hey, it’s Kozik.”

“You okay? What’s wrong bud?”

“I hurt Celeste. Tiggy there’s so much blood.” He cries, leaning against the wall as he racks with sobs.

“Kozik? Is this real?” He asks.

“Yes! Tig!” She shouts, making Kozik sob harder. A string of curses leaves his mouth as he instructs Kozik on what to do.

“I can’t Tig. I can’t get closer to her.” He whimpers shaking his head.

“Kozik! Don’t you give up now kid! You gotta be strong! Come on! She’s gonna die!” He shouts, Kozik’s eyes watching as she begins to pale from blood loss.

“Aw Tig, what did I do?” He cries, dropping the phone in the blood.