#hl's writing tag

[hl-words]

assisted resurrection

oh, blood of my blood, haven't i spilled enough of you to drown? stones 'round my neck - burden of years. burden of sin - hold me down.

bone of my bone!

greed befits the undead, never to see the sun. don't try to offer absolution. i know what i've done.

i want no brighter life than to wallow in your darkness.

all the time you've waited, my ghost waded through the dried salt of your tears in total silence. bringing me back was violence inflicted without hesitation. don't make me rise above my station

and join the living.

don't put me up on stage. open up. let me climb back, nevermore to burst forth from your ribcage.

take back the sacrifice that would separate us.

let me be. i will be as i've been: wanderin' through the chambers of your heart 'til the knocking does me in.

[internetskiff]

Brother rly went "so yeah about that beer :)" immediately followed by implying he had (and still has) to beat at least a couple of people to maintain his position in Civil Protection. Really creates way more questions than it answers. What did u do Barney Calhoun. Is beating people up all it takes? Is there innocent blood on his hands? Is there weight on his conscience? Despite everything, did he still partake in the perks the position offered, the better housing, the extra food? How trusted is he in the resistance, really? It's probably well known that he still has to participate in the Combine's oppressive system, right? They can't all possibly view it as a completely necessary evil. I mean, some rebels hate Odessa Cubbage and his only crime seems to be "being an idiot".

Okay completely unrelated train of thought now but I wonder if he smuggles the melons Kleiner feeds to Lamarr. You can see some watermelons in a Civil Protection outpost/apartment so I assume that's one of the "better" foods the Combine provide to those that serve them. Goddd there's so much to this guy but it's all implication.. Wish he had more screentiiiiiiime I wanna see more of him. I wanna see what he's had to do to maintain cover, and what he's actually done to earn the Resistance's trust. How do the rebels feel, knowing that while they have to take shelter in the canal system, he's able to sleep in an actual apartment with an intact door?

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Aftermath: Yellow Eyes

Gordon has trouble sleeping, even months after waking up in the hospital after the Black Mesa incident. Worse yet are the things he's been seeing since then.

CW: Drug mentions

Notes: A little over 2000 words, and another short Aftermath story, as a treat

Dyson Spheres.

Incredible, unfathomable structures built to harvest the energy of the stars; large rings of an intelligent being’s design, orbiting the star it imprisons. The rings each hold enough energy to power entire civilizations, those very civilizations being made up of things man currently doesn’t know, or will very well never understand. What remains out in the distant reaches of the universe remains a mystery, one that humanity may never even come close to grasping within its feeble minds and sense of what is reality. What even is reality? Is it something set in stone, the very pieces of it being placed together like a cosmic, fractured puzzle, with the full picture slowly being revealed? Is it something that fluctuates like the waves of the great seas, something that humanity can get so close to understanding, yet every time it goes the right path, the road ahead becomes twisted and deformed like tangled ropes, with humans having to begin the process of entanglement anew. 

The Dyson sphere appears so simple to the mind, the concept feeling like the natural next step in power production, yet at the very same time it feels so grandiose and impossible for it to be fully understood. What happens when something far greater than humanity has already found out the very concept of what reality is, bending it to its will and making the improbable and incomprehensible perfectly understandable to their greater minds? Would humanity fall to the greater power? Will they adapt to the new understanding of the universe, or will they perish like a rabbit ensnared in a hunters trap, doomed to thrash and attempt to free itself, only to realize it doesn’t have the strength nor the understanding to ever truly be free? Perhaps if we look at the stars long enough, they’ll finally meet our gaze; only then will we learn if our eyes will see the splendor of the cosmos or if they’ll burn like everything else.

Gordon stared at the messy drawings in his journal, depicting Dyson spheres and alien planets, ones that he could only imagine being out there, somewhere, in the infinity of space. His eyes stung from the cold air around him, with it being hard to remember if he’s even blinked once within the last few minutes. His glasses had slid down his nose, nearly falling off before he pushed them up with one of his thin, calloused and scarred hands. He was unsure of what time it was, or even how long he'd been awake, though the exhaustion creeping up on him, along with the headache he felt reverberating in his skull, were enough to deter him from wasting more time thinking too hard about too many things at once. He carefully shut the journal, shoving it into one of the drawers in the desk before standing up. His right shin ached, sending a sharp pain up his leg as soon as he placed his weight on it. He brushed the pain off, reaching for the wooden cane that was leaning against the side of the desk’s top.

When Gordon left the office, he glanced down the hallway he stood in, seeing the light from the lamp placed in the living room pouring through, barely reflecting off of his green eyes before he turned around, opening one of the doors of the hallway. He flicked on the bathroom light, being greeted to the mirror above the sink, with the sight of who was staring back at him from it making him let out a soft sigh. He first noticed how disheveled he looked; His hair was uncut and unclean, pulled back into a lazily done ponytail, and his beard was no longer a clean-cut goatee, but instead a messy, stubbly mess. He was still wearing the hand-me-down green sweater Eli had gifted him right when he got out of the hospital a couple months prior; God, had it already been that long? Despite the sheer mess his appearance was, his eyes were the worst part. They appeared darkened by the shadow under his brows, the bags under them telling how little sleep he’s gotten for him. The once bright, hopeful look in his eyes was now a hollow, dark glare. He examined the face of the man who he was surprised, yet disappointed, survived things that have made full armies fall, all before he shook off the feeling and opened the mirror, revealing the medicine cabinet behind it.

He pushed empty pill bottles to the side before grabbing a semi-transparent orange bottle with a white cap, one that had his name on it. He opened it, taking out the last two pills before swallowing them, all before slamming the bottle on the countertop beside the sink and closing the mirror. He looked down, not making eye contact with himself as he turned away, back into the dark hallway as the bathroom light was shut off behind him. When he limped into the living room, only barely using his cane to support his weight, he heard rustling coming from the kitchen nearby. He stared into the dark room, catching short glimpses of a green light coming from inside before he approached, flicking on the light to see if he could see what was there. He walked around one of the kitchen’s counters, hearing the rustling getting louder before he finally saw the culprit; A small bug-like creature biting and clawing at a pack of off-brand cookies. Gordon sighed, realizing it was nothing but his pet Snark, or Stanley as he called him. Gordon placed his cane against the wall, letting out his breath as he crouched down, his right leg nearly giving out as he did so, to pick up the dull red and black shell of the oversized bug, causing it to let out high-pitched squeaks as it was held up. Gordon stared at its one, giant glowing green eye before he held it against his chest with one hand, using the other to pick up the torn packaging of the plastic cookie container; no wonder the vet said that Stanley was slightly overweight.

Gordon tossed the container into the trashcan as he left the room, flicking the light off as he limped towards the living room couch and the lamp resting beside it. Stanley hopped out of Gordon’s grasp, landing on the couch cushions before Gordon sat down beside where it landed. He rested his hands on his jean clad legs, before reaching up and removing his glasses, rubbing his eyes with the other hand as if that would help ease the exhaustion. Stanley chirped and squeaked as it crawled around the couch, moving up and onto the back of it when Gordon turned his legs to lay across the entirety of the couch. He adjusted himself until he was mostly comfortable, using one of the cushions to support his head and sore leg, all before he lightly placed his glasses onto the coffee table in front of the couch. Stanley rolled off of the back of the couch, landing on Gordon’s stomach, making Gordon let out a breath and wincing slightly when he felt Stanley’s claws digging into his stomach, luckily not enough to leave any cuts. He lightly caressed the back of Stanley’s shell as it laid down on top of him, its eye closing before Gordon leaned back, reaching for the lamp’s pull-cord, and shutting it off.

.

.

.

Gordon heard static before his eyes had even opened, the harsh sound ripping him out of deep sleep more effectively than any alarm clock ever has. When his eyes opened, he glanced towards the pale-blue light of the television near the front of the room, seeing it was tuned to a dead channel. Gordon was tempted to get up and shut it off, but his arms nor legs made any attempt to move from their spot on the couch. In fact, nothing could move aside from his eyes, with a wave of paralyzation hitting him at that moment. Gordon’s heart thumped in his chest as he tried not to panic, knowing it to just be a temporary paralysis that would leave him at any moment, though the longer it took, the further he delved into feeling trapped in his own body. As he desperately tried to move a single one of his limbs, he froze, eyes staring at something he could barely see through his blurred vision. Next to television stood a tall man, one that was barely visible through the darkness behind the bright light of the static. Gordon could make out the outline of its white dress shirt under its dark coat and tie, but Gordon’s eyes fixated on the two bright yellow eyes staring back at him in silence. The man didn’t move, feeling close to a bizarre statue one might find in a museum somewhere, feeling so lifelike yet so surreal and fake at the same time. 

Gordon was unsure whether the apparition was real or simply another hallucination, yet his body had already made its decision that it was a threat, trying desperately to get Gordon out of harm’s way, yet remaining unmoving aside from a few minor twitches. Gordon finally managed to free his arm, reaching for the pull cord before turning the light on, his head turning to face where the man was, only to find him gone, as if he was never there in the first place. The TV was off, with the static’s sound and light disappearing when the light returned to the room. His breathing heaved his chest, making him ache with every harsh breath he took. He sat up, eyes fixated on the place where the man once stood, almost as if he expected him to reappear the second he blinked. However, his attention was drawn away when he looked down, seeing Stanley prodding at his foot with one of its claws, its antennae twitching all the while. Gordon glanced back up, thankful when he saw nothing out of the ordinary before he leaned over and let Stanley crawl onto his hand, holding it up and placing it back onto the couch cushion beside him.

“Gordon?”

The sound of someone else's voice nearly made Gordon jump out of his own skin, his hand instinctively reaching for a gun holster he didn’t have around his waist. Gordon’s tension was relieved however when he saw who the voice belonged to: Barney. Barney was standing in the hallway, covered in a blank gray t-shirt and sweatpants, with his tired eyes staring back at Gordon, with an emotion that was unreadable. 

“What are you doing up so early,” Barney asked, “I thought you were the one to sleep in all the time.”

Gordon tried to think of an answer, feeling his throat become tight when he didn’t have one, at least not one he wished to share.

“Also…I thought I told you to keep that roach in its pen while you stay here.” Barney pointed at Stanley, who was in the process of crawling underneath the couch beside Gordon’s foot. 

Gordon looked around, not seeing where it had went before letting out a breath, messily using sign language to say; “Put him back later.”

“Why don’t you put him back now,” Barney said with a stern tone, “I don’t want to come back from work to see it raided the pantry again.”

Gordon looked to the side, deciding to not bring up the torn up cookie container at that moment. Gordon stood up, a wave of nausea hitting him at once as soon as he did, causing him to fall back onto the couch, sitting there until it started to wane again. Barney’s slightly annoyed gaze softened when he watched Gordon rub his eyes, tiredly reaching for his glasses to put them back on.

“...You look like hell.”

Gordon was aware of that sentiment already, making him not feel a need to respond.

“You sure you’re good to work with Doc today?” Barney questioned as Gordon tried again to stand up, this time succeeding in not collapsing. “You know, I can always ask him to give you a day off–”

“Fine.” Gordon signed. “I’m Fine.”

Barney stared back at Gordon before letting out a slight scoff. “I suppose I can’t really tell you what to do, huh.”

Gordon glared at him, not noticing, nor caring, how harsh the look appeared. It didn’t last long regardless however, as right after he began to look for Stanley to put him back in his pen, whistling to try and get its attention. Barney continued to stare at Gordon from the hallway, tired eyes only barely concealing his worry before he turned back towards his room to get ready for his job at the hospital. When Gordon heard the door close, he looked back at the hallway, brows slightly furrowed as he thought to himself. He didn’t expect Barney to understand exactly the things he had been experiencing since he woke up, and the very thought of telling him, risking the very friendship Gordon had been treasuring since he could remember, made him feel ill. Of course, the ill feeling could have also come from the tension he felt in his chest, but it didn’t matter regardless. Barney deserved better than to be dragged into another man’s mess, anyway.

Thus, by choice for once, Gordon remained silent.

[anomalyaly]

WIP Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @myokk! I love when people share little snippets of what they're working on, and I loved reading yours!!!

@morelikeravenbore (since you wanted to see too 😊)

Rules: Share a snippet from whatever you’re currently working on, and then tag 5 people.

This is a SUPER rough WIP. As in I JUST started writing it last night 😅

Future Chapter of 'Secrets of the Silent Stars':

Students began filing out of the common room in various states of disarray. Elsie’s eyes followed their trail as many of them trudged down the stairs, baggy-eyed and messy-haired from spending all night studying. Last night, the Ravenclaw Tower had been nothing short of a party of anxious fifth, sixth, and seventh years, all poring over their notes and practicing incantations for their OWLs and NEWTs. Several had cried, thrown up, or were even carted off to the Hospital Wing so that Nurse Blainey could administer a Calming Draught.

She shook her palms, exchanging a nervous glance with Samantha. “Time to go,” Elsie sighed.

Samantha offered an encouraging smile. “We’ll be fine. I’m sure most of us are all in our heads over it.”

“How are you so relaxed?” Elsie vanished her books into her bag and followed the line of students out of the common room.

“I’m not.” Samantha trailed closely behind. “I’m a moment away from a panic attack.”

Elsie wondered if she had an extra Calming Draught for both of them.

NP Tags!: @ps-cactus @bookie-bookdust @ravenwind-75 @gingerlegacy07 @iatnen @sloanesallow @theladyofshalott1989 @morelikeravenbore @writing-intheundercroft @girl-named-matty @rypnami and anyone else who wants to participate! Lemme see all your WIPs! <3

[connorhedgehog]

some of you are treating fandom like war and its fucking insane. if your reaction to 'new hlvrai!' is 'people on the internet are going to write things i dont like even more now :(' you need to get checked

[thatforestprince]

don't think i've posted art in like 4 years lol. anyway, meet my combine oc Wallhammer 1020-608283 (1020 for short)!!!!

i've begun a fic for him here!

[plasticfangtastic]

American Royalty Ch. 12

A Homelander x F! Reader/Dadlander fic

A/N: This chapter its a lot longer for it is the penultimate chapter, just wanted to thanks all who have read till this point and I hope you look forward to the final chapter after reading this. It was a joy to write this story, if y like to be in the taglist plz let me know. prev chapter:

Tags: fluff, romance, slow burn, dadlander, child neglect, child abuse.

Chapter twelve

Names

You let him have the wedding venue and the honeymoon destination… you didn’t expect for him to drag you to Tasmania but just like you did with the house he did this out of spite, but ignoring the cool heat… it was beautiful. 

It felt personal and small even if there was a whole camera crew and millions of people watching.

Homelander excuse had been that while taking Ryan for a flight he had spotted this national park on the small island, staring into the violet painted lake, the way he recanted how the mist blanketed the lake shore… you knew he wasn’t gonna settle for anything else, and of course it was as far away from William Butcher than he could get.

He had lifted this place out of a fairytale, every corner had elaborate details. No doubt he had some Hollywood set designer build this, he was a romantic to the extreme… corny too, but as you look at the million flower petals scattered around you, you blushed. There was really just you and him, no groomsmen or bridesmaids– the guests were nonexistent either.

Here you two were forcing each other into an unhappy marriage, but no matter what you told yourself… Homelander would be happy in this supposed misery, perhaps it was only you who was unhappy... were you? No matter how fake this all was, he did cry when he saw you, he even stopped caring that William Butcher was there taunting him with his presence– yeah he did turn red when he spotted the smug bastard smiling knowing he was untouchable with all these cameras around… god knows what he was planning, but he stopped caring as he saw you in that dress.

Nevertheless there wasn’t any pretense as he smiled during the reception, the way you felt his heart against your chest as you danced, as you caught that nervous look trying to hide itself not from the cameras nor from his peers but from you.

There you were blushing as you saw him visualizing every step of your routine, trying to keep it together as he tried guiding you.

“Geez just take a fucking breather–  relax.”

“We are live!” He whispered with panic.

“John is not for them… is for us.” You kissed his neck, resting your head against his shoulders to hide your face but also so he could feel your nerves more clearly– I hope you’re having a good time… is fun… I… this is so beautiful… thank you.” You looked up once more– you look good in a suit… you should wear them more often… I like it a lot.” your voice was more breathless than you realized as you stared into his blue eyes.

“Thank you…” He kissed you before forcing another awkward dance move– I just expect to be the last man to ever see you in that dress.”

“Maybe…” Your smile made his ears red– I could be okay with that.”

He was puddy in your hands after that, making the wedding not the worse day of your life, Helena did cursed at having to wear an itchy dress but Ryan was over the moon, and as you rested your feet for a moment, and the cold wind tousled the chiffon on the ornaments, and petals flew away in the breeze.

As you looked at the trees and catched the singing of barking owls hiding in the racketeering of leaves.

For a second you bought into the lie, your daughter would have access to everything the world could offer and beyond, and this boy would get a family, even if the two were struggling to get along, even if the boy still seemed anxious around you, forcing you to walk on eggshells… maybe he would come to love you… maybe you could be happy inside this family. 

“I have to ask… why did you came here?” You lifted the actual french champagne bottle towards the dark haired man.

“Worry I’ll ruin the day for you, luv?” he placed his glass closer.

“I would love it if you did… John is probably trying to find the right commercial break to kill you.”

“You invited me but I am here for Ryan… never thought I’d get to have dinner with him under his nose… after I kill the cunt… I always did worry ‘bout him– I never pictured myself surviving. But now he has a little sister.”

“Well if you kill him, I’ll get custody of Ryan and then you can also make me marry you if you like.” He took the bottle of your hands after tasting the bubbly it had simply been divine, looking at the label and knowing how pricey that was he gave it a long messy gulp– just gotta top this.”

“No thanks.” He took a short sip also admiring the insanely picturesque view of the lake– why did you agree to marry him? Even after–

“I don’t care… Flight 37… working with Neuman, killing Stillwell… the supervillains he helped made– I don’t give a fuck. Why would I care now…? Caring will get me killed, and I got two children who need their mother… Homelander is who he is and I can’t change that, even if he did change, it won’t change what he’s done, so I’ll just move on and take him as he is.”

Butcher almost seemed disappointed but he opted to keep his tongue tied, the thought of Ryan losing another mother over a moral dilemma didn’t sit well with him.

“Want me to get you a to-go box? The cake is divine… I’ll let Ryan know you’re leaving… don't try anything funny…”

“I’ll think I’ll stay until they serve the coffee…”

“We got tea too… 2 sugars?” you say forcing a smile.

“Honey, and a little wedge of lemon.”

“Then I’ll guess I’ll get the kid… hopefully he does kill you.”

He gave you a dirty smirk as you went looking for your adopted son.

Catching the skittering glimpse of Homelander as he kept a watchful eye on you too.

The Honeymoon was beautiful as you headed for the mainland, a bit short but beautiful nevertheless… William didn’t ruin the wedding but he did bother you two during the honeymoon.

A year had passed, here you were sitting in the sitting room while you awaited for Homelander to crawl out of the dressing room. 

Just thinking about how ridiculous it looked to have a closet bigger than your kids bedroom and for him to have nothing to wear made you squirm in your seat, but he was hard to please, without the super suit he just felt small and ugly, even if was still just as handsome as before.

“We can't miss this doctor’s appointment…”

You pushed your tablet aside, as he emerged in a black t-shirt, a wine jacket and black pants, he kept staring at his shoes as if they weren’t the right match, but at this point you had been waiting thirty-six minutes.

“Homelander… I don’t think anybody is going to roast your shoes, so can we go?”

“I just want them to look at me and say that I look conf–

“Chill. You're not the one who's gonna get implanted with some eggs, but feel free to carry them yourself if we keep delaying this. Being late won’t convey any confidence.”

He looked at your clothes, just sweatpants and a nice colorful t-shirt, dissaproving but he bit his tongue instead.

“I’m nervous… what if it doesn’t work again… this is our third time.” He bit his lip trying not to think about the journey here– my fucking sperm its useless…”

“We survived the fire… we are good… we got a couple embryos. It worked now. I gotta hope my oven works once more… you know I'm no spring chicken– i'm in the geriatric category” You stood up reaching after him to comfort him, he just slumped into your shoulders– we had Helena and you made Ryan, you can do it again…”

In all honesty the process had been difficult for him, he had completely misunderstood what was wrong with his body, when the topic was brought up five months into this marriage it had come off as a shareholder asking for investment returns, he had given you everything you asked but here he was asking for his return so why were you surprised? You were mildly disturbed about how much he’d prepared behind your back, it almost came off as if he had already been preparing with somebody else but you pushed that strange gut-feeling aside, the calendar certainly playing a part but you rather not think more of it– your part had been easy, you made eggs, your body was sufficiently healthy and you weren’t that old that it would prove more than challenging to get it to work, but he had been the issue.

At the mention of getting a sperm donor he had almost killed the doctor for the suggestion, he shot down any mentions of adoption, he didn’t want to consider it, he didn’t believe in it, if they weren’t his blood he didn’t want them– he had already won the odds lottery with his two kids so why push it? It only made sense to him but you didn’t voice your concerns.

He was back to being that young man who thought he would be alone forever, he was enamored with the notion of having another child, looking at parents and their kids thinking how perfect it all was when they had beyond plenty, staring at the baby clothes at target when you dragged him shopping, looking at all the spare rooms in this home and wanting to fill them… a son or a daughter it no longer mattered, he had his preferences but if tomorrow they told him he would have another girl he would be happy, he would still cry and he would go and paint the walls pink himself.

But seeing himself in the mirror he was disgusted by all the naked eye couldn’t see.

“is going to be alright, John.” You kissed his temple.

Maybe it was seeing him like this that mellowed you, or perhaps it was that nothing was set in stone, those eggs might not survive, you might have to give up and the thought of your womb being a rental would fade from both of your minds.

But it didn’t.

He cried a lot when it didn't.

If he had been a groomzilla during the wedding he had become a neurotic mess once the bump settled.

He had made it clear he wanted that baby from the get go– admittedly he put up with some of your worst behavior solely because he wanted this, asking you to schedule sex on your terms, you two even discussed this in a room full of lawyers the sex acts you were okay with– threesomes off the table but risky public sex was in the maybe’s.

 Then after that you had to settle on starting fertility treatments as part of the conditions of your marriage, admittedly the agreed divorce settlements left you in a comfortable spot and Helena was always going to be cared for but it came with prerequisites… of proof that you indeed had tried instead of pretending– he had accommodated you beyond expectations… so here you were staring at the slight bump forming under your navel.

The maids duties had doubled, he didn’t want you putting a single extra ounce of work, an elevator being installed was discussed but would’ve taken far too long on remodelations to be realistic, a brief argument took place where he suggested they all moved back to the Vought penthouse as it was less stairs but it was shut down by the majority party. 

Even taking out your stand mixer had him on edge, poor Ryan had to rush to help you if he was nearby just so his dad wouldn’t give you that look– where he scanned your body to make sure the bean was still fine.

As it grew bigger and your body began to waddle and wobble more concerns arrived.

Even showering had him on edge on the off-chance you would trip and fall on your stomach, so he insisted on joining you or at least demanded you showered only if he was in the house, depending on your hormones, your preference was either, altho you knew the kids bodyguard was always informed by the staff if you showered or took bath just to be alert.

“Ricardo? Cassandra? Terry? Damian? Kathy?” You looked at him then back at the TV screen, your feet might as well have been covered in shredded glass so you tried to rest but here he was pestering you– There has to be a name you like… like how did you name Helena?”

You looked at him again, lowering the volume on the screen.

“I think Maeve said the name once… thought it sounded pretty.”

Homelander stopped his pacing as his brows touched and your expression grew confused, he took a deep breath.

“I was in the hospital in a lot of pain… I thought of other names… but maybe the nurse had a similar name, why?”

“You named my kid after Maeve’s piece of shit girlfriend!” he barked.

“… wait really?” You said perplexed.

“Her name is Elena!” He was frumpy.

“Maybe the nurse's name was Yelena or Helen.” You rather not dwell too much in that memory– I like Cassandra altho that’s the Deep’s ex-wife no?”

“Argh…” He cursed under his breath– what about Freyda… Vivienne… Loukas… the name has to be perfect… the names Helena and Ryan freaking jumped in popularity after people learned those were my kids names– it will create trends!” He sank on the arm chair throwing the book to the side– it has to be perfect… their name needs to be like poetry… I want to fall in love with them everytime I say their name… and I think it's a girl.”

Homelander paused, catching sight of you.

“You couldn’t bring a cake to tell me that?” You cursed under your breath holding on to your stomach, you took some deep breath feeling your blood pressure spike–... Genevieve�� I almost named Helena that�� there was this nice lady back at the half-way house… she was lovely and she helped me out a lot… she was getting out of an abusive marriage– her name was Odelia, she helped me get my first job and sort of my food stamps and such” You bit your cheeks trying to suppress the bitter taste in your tongue– either way she went back to her husband and I never saw her again, even if I called it send me nowhere… her middle name was Genevieve.” 

He smiled.

“If it's a boy I like the name Jason.”

He would continue looking for names helplessly, tempted to post an online poll to help determine but even Ashley said that might backfire.

Each added centimeters to your waist made his nervousness worsen, during those awful months trying to conceive he had tried all the hokum– between the drugs and the smoothies, he had become obsessed with himself but now it was your food bothering him, bringing dieticians and nutritionist to plan menus to boost your health, suddenly your years of expertise were nulled– your diet wasn’t a problem he just didn’t want to believe you. 

Your pantry was filled with wholefood crap and every matter of organic good and insipid health scams, all the meats and veggies now source directly from vetted farmers or killed by himself, somehow a single youtube video taught him how to perfectly cut and portion salmon that he’d caught twenty minutes before… on top of making sure to keep track of your health with his powers, so Homelander made sure everything that entered your mouth passed his standards.

Like a dog caught eating something forbidden, his fingers tempted to pry those fried oreos out of your mouth, but here you were getting fried oreos and beignets and guzzling ice tea as he stood outside the candy store, both kids behind you trying to wipe the powdered sugar off their shirts as their father eyes grew wider.

“I need sugar, John… is called a craving.”

You crossed your arms as you swallowed that beignet whole, you knew it was coming as you reached the end of your first second trimesters– you were hit with monstrous cravings, you devoured M&M’s and so many slices of dollar pizza, you put a dent on your suffering bank account back when you were pregnant with Helena, but now you didn’t need to drink water to calm yourself. 

You could buy the food you denied yourself before and here he was about to scold you for it.

“That’s poison.” He stared at his kids. He entered the cramm and small eatery as the elderly owner stared at him in awe– and you two… I expected better from the both of you.” He said firmly.

“She was cranky” Helena says as she sucks her fingers– moms need to meet their cravings.”

Ryan nodded in agreement as he slurped on his egg cream.

“Think of your cholesterol.”

“Says the guy who hasn’t eaten anything for two days… maybe that’s why you’re cranky.” You barked back already picking your bag off the ground as you headed out– oreos are vegan anyhoo so it’s healthy.”

“You know that’s not true!” He follows you behind as he pushes his kids out the place.

Rolling your eyes as he continues his incessant baragery as you stuffed each sweet into your puffed cheeks.

At night it kept you awake, the memories of endless cravings, of pawning and selling your beloved knives and cooking equipment just to make enough dough to stay in a crappy motel, to get some coins to eat, each meal had to be carefully considered, you had no steady income, you couldn’t eat much of anything but water at times as you picked between buying nappies for newborns and clothes for the baby over another real meal, you at least had the multivitamins… telling yourself this was gonna kept her strong.

Your stomach growling as you look at your diminishing wallet, your stomach growling as you slept in couches and not wanting to burden anyone, not wanting to annoy them as you ate something off their side of the fridge, even your mother gave you grief when you ate a whole tub of yogurt in a sudden urge.

But here as you woke up from a nightmare you looked around and saw that this was your beautiful house and this was your beautiful husband hovering above you panicked as he hadn’t build-up the courage to wake you up.

“I thought you might punch me and break your hand if I woke you up.”

You latched onto him, wanting him to comfort you, he didn’t question a thing as you asked him to bring you yogurt from the kitchen, holding you as you ate with a quiet sob.

He wanted a fat baby, a healthy baby and a super one too, as you ate he could see its tiny stomach fill but behind his worries there had been bigger concerns– he had read the files on Becca’s pregnancy, about how the fetus demonstrated abilities while inside the womb, pictures of her glowing stomach, Becca had been made to stay in a facility during the last trimester just out of fear the fetus would kill her or injure his containment.

Your files weren’t so alarming, you experience horrible pains, most of your medical debt had been from having to be in and out of a hospital for so long, but Helena didn’t shoot lasers nor did she fly, her strength slightly over average and her skin just resistant enough that super strength was needed to administer stitches, but this baby wasn’t any different from the average.

The what-if his child was a mud person repulsed him, but nothing he couldn’t fix.

“You can program it already?”

Helena looked up from the desk, before her all manner of high tech equipment and a computer she had been typing mindlessly for an hour before her father had showed up.

“In theory… I’m still struggling with the human issue. If anything I’ve been more successful with already doped up supes– Elmo’s case for example… The Russian government had been testing Soldier Boy, managing to develop their own Compound V… Serum MGH…” She pulled out some classified documents on her screen– … Their version is a lot more interesting and unstable but they wanted to make: You. their version already managed to “program” flight and strength but highly volatile and dangerous even the animal subject didn’t last long… all I did was stabilize it.” She pushed her overgrown bangs aside just to let her father peek at her unamused expression– this is about the fetus, no?”

“Your sister.” He seemed concerned at her tone.

“Looking at your files and Ryan’s I guess the odds are in your favor… altho…” She took a couple minutes to find the files– about twelve years ago one of your girls aborted a fetus at 14 weeks and according to this autopsy the fetus did not contain any significant compound V traces– god knows what that means.” a couple pages down– and the other died from ‘spontaneous human combustion’ so maybe don’t worry if the fetus its human at the moment”

Homelander had a hard time swallowing the cold delivery of his child, moseying the documents with disinterest, he took a seat as his body grew heavy.

“You can fill this form and request the same purity percentage of the Compound V used on your trials, but you know how random it’ll be.”

“How long have you known about those?” His mouth so dry, it's painful, his tongue swelling as his hands grew cold and painful..

“A while. They really wanted you to fly” She stays still instead of facing him– Why did you never kill Dr. Vogelbaum? or Dr. Park?”

“I dunno…” He had never given himself an answer, nor did he understand why his heart ached after the man died before him.

Helena squints lightly as she types a couple notes, the sound of the keyboard swallowing him whole.

“Sentimental attachments or misplaced love… interesting.”

Homelander didn’t see Helena sitting in the room with him, there was something different about her, as he saw her type on the computer and that disinterested expression that he saw his doctors once again, watching him like a sample.

“If you weren’t my daughter…” He hissed.

“You already made my replacement and this one would be a lot cuter don’t you think?” her fingers stopped gliding for a second– regardless what exactly are you looking for in terms of powers? Got plenty of genetic material to work with from all the failures from here, Sage Grove and Godolkin… I like the challenge and I’m sure you would be nice enough to get me some raw materials if needed.``

She opened a notes screen, ready to be entertained.

Homelander shoulder got closer, staring at her, her voice venomous but she was still dainty… the ire of a jealous child, she had gained a brother whom her mother loved and now another baby in under two years (not even) she has been trusted to cope– she was still a kid. His hand found her head, her eyes blinked blue ready to protect herself, thinking of how easy it would be to have her skull crushed against this desk, of the shape of the dent he would leave.

“I love you Helena… just as much as I love Ryan and I love your sister.” He said softly pulling her chair towards him, her hand glued to the desk as it squeaked– she’s not you. she’ll never be you, she won’t be my perfect little peonie. That’s you, my love.”

“Am not jealous, I feel pity for the both of you. Ryan might be an imbecile but I can tell my mother doesn’t love you and neither do you.” she groaned, pushing his hand away– you’re both babytrapping each other… poor unborn sod nothing but an addendum for your custody battle.”

“You really believe that?” He recoiled from her.

“Really?” her voice was firm– do you love Y/N or you love what she could do for you?”

“I love her in my own way… am not stupid. I know she wanted me for money and I don’t doubt her affections towards your brother are motivated for money! Even yourself Helena! All you want is this!” He gestures to the room– You think am an idiot! Do you think so lowly of me?” His voice had a different tone, she began to wonder if she could hold him back but for how long?-- so save me the crap!”

“Is you who thinks so lowly of me.” her tiny fist squeezed the hem of her skirt– you bastard!”

The chair slid and crashed against the thick wall, she sank into her chair covering her head as his open palm raised.

His hand froze in the air held by an invisible force against his own, he blinked awake, watching his reflection in a glass beaker, small tears budding on the corner of her eyes as her breathing struggled to keep steady.

“I-I-I didn…” 

Homelander lips clattered, his whole body shivering as he caught the gravity of his display, he dropped on his knees taking her into his arms forcefully, the girl squirmed but stayed quiet, he held her drowning in her delicate scent, wanting to barf as the cocktail of her fear poured out of her skin.

“I am sorry… I am sorry” He repeated over and over under his breath as the girl just said nothing

Helena's eyes closed.

“All I done has been for you… I will bear anything your mother gives me, all her scorn and hatred if it means I can have you… have you and your brother and now your little sister… your mother will have anything she ever wants and all I want from her… is you.” He whispered with a shrill voice– she has the mansion, and the maids and not a single worry left… all you’ve ever wanted to give her. I’ve given them on your behalf… so you can be freed of worries… a father's job is to provide for his family. Is not his daughter’s job.”

His vice tightened just enough to mask his shivering self.

“Dad is sorry. I’m truly sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He kissed the sides of her temples, afraid of letting her go.

Helena had seen the reports, she avoided the images as much as she could but the descriptions had been more than plentiful, she seen the violent things done to him and done by him, she wasn’t oblivious to him.

She should’ve been more careful, she thought.

“You could have kill me.” she said with annoyance.

“You’re not scared?” he looks at her face, seeing the red in her eyes but also the stiffness in her expression– we good?”

“We are good, dad.”

She could see there was a conversation taking part in his head as he kept looking past her.

Thinking of an odd hand-written note buried in the pyre, she looked at her screen and how everything looked so big in this room, she hit her forehead back on his shoulders, his face softening as he took her gesture, holding her, wanting to go back in time to stop himself for he had threatened to tear apart all he had worked for and endured. Helena knew that this was the only way to keep the world around her.

“I need to go back to work… regarding the fetus… I only got ...what an hour or two before home time…?”

“We can put that aside.”

Helena stood watching the street from the terrace, all the houses just as tall and the massive hotel building next to their house a motivating factor for the purchase, the trees lining their streets and the few lights coming from the hotel next door and next door neighbors, it was as loud as it was silent.

“Is it loud to you?” She looked up as her father parked next to her, trying to ignore the sounds from the hotel– you think at this price tag…”

“It's close to Madison Avenue, perfect to spend my paycheck, no?”

She turned to see he had a giant stuffed axolotl in his hands, completely disregarding his passive aggressive comment.

“You went to build-a-bear?” she raised her eyebrow.

“I had to do the whole heart ceremony. I bet it's all over TikTok now” His whole face was tight and red as he handed the stuffed animal to his daughter– had to rub that stupid little heart on my knees, and that's a hard angle to reach on this suit!”

She giggled.

“You could have just bought the display one– they sell them to you, y’know.”

“What?” He walked towards the rail trying not to cry as the memory of being made to make a wish to the green haired store attendant as she spoke with the same tone she used on small children on him– what’s next it's optional?”

“Yeah.” she hugged the thing dragging the tail as she sat on one of their chairs– am sure they’ll think it's cute.”

“Who's ‘they’?”

“The worthless masses.” burying her face in the soft fabric– I love it.”

He blushed.

“What happened today… it’ll never happen again… I swear.” he swallows listening to your steps below as you worked on the cupcakes for your upcoming baby shower. He had wanted a big gender reveal party but you had forced him into just a quiet event with only a handful of friends old and new– I do love your mother– just so we are clear”

“Is okay I forgot for a second you aren’t human… the only thing that could touch me before has been fur not people… so let’s just not dwell in the past…”

“I didn’t mean it… what I said about you and Y/N and money… sometimes I just think the worst of people'' he looked vulnerable and painfully human as he spoke– what your mother and I have it's more complicated than most people could understand– even you!”

“Just don’t divorce… I’ll leave with mom… she would need me…” She mumbled looking away from him.

“I’ll never leave her.” A wicked glint coloured his eyes as a half smile amused him– She can’t leave me either. Not with Genevieve now in the picture… I mean I would go broke if I did…”

“How bad was your prenup?”

“The things I gave up just for getting christmas with you and Ryan… horrific… a bloodbath.”

“Maybe you should go win mom over.”

He took that as a small victory, Helena let herself be taken back inside, Ryan wondering where she got the toy, making a quick promise to take the kid to a toy store.

A maid took the tray into the fridge as you welcomed your husband home.

“Hey, a new episode of that Kdrama we've been watching came out today. Just getting some snacks ready for tomorrow then I’ll go join you guys to watch it.” You said cleaning your hands on your sides– you went to build-a-bear?”

“Long story. Our little genius did a great job in the lab and deserved a present. Right baby?”

“I should have asked for a raise shouldn’t I?” 

“Maybe discuss that with ‘bossman’ overthere.” 

They both gave you strange looks sharing a quiet conversation away from you.

That night he was unusually touchy, wanting to keep his hand against your stomach and his head close to your bosom, the kids cursing at the stupid behavior of the love birds on the screen as they continued to miss the signs, your hand unknowingly finds itself stroking his ear and chin, as he caressed your stomach.

“She sleeps a lot you know. that's good.”

“Thanks for officially killing the surprise there, honey.” You knock your head back– you better keep it quiet until the cake is cut!”

“Oh! Am having another sister!” Ryan sounded both happy and sad– you think she’ll like baseball?” 

“Anything else you want to spoil?” Helena mentioned as she flicked popcorn in his direction.

“She’s very blonde.” 

He did get to sleep in the bedroom that night, you simply couldn't fault him for being overly excited… this was now just how he was for some reason.

“Put the beds together… you can hear her better that way no?”

He does without protest.

A pillow wedged under your stomach and your head, frankly you only needed his arm to help bolster your neck, knowing that as you kicked in your sleep, he would keep the pillows in their strategic spots to ensure your comfort, for he slept very little.

“I like the name Genevieve… it's elegant… it's perfect.”

He stifled a yawn as you twisted your neck to look at him.

“Sorry is not a son.”

He stroked your stomach, feeling every minute movement your child did inside, telling himself that she was reciprocating.

“I don’t care she’s everything to me…” he kissed you lightly– I just want to meet her already even if she looks like a blonde alien.”

“You’re not even a real blond” you rub your body against his as you try to get comfortable– don’t call her an alien, you meanie.”

“Thank you for our little area 51 escapee.”

“Don’t listen to him, honey. Your father is just mad, he isn't a natural blonde.”

taglist-- @immyowndefender @fromforeigntofamiliarity @demodemo909 @ghqstfqce

[non-binharry]

i wanna give it to you by non-binharry/enbyharry on ao3

harry/louis | 5k | explicit

written for the @topharryficfest

“I want to have another baby," Louis admits with a slow roll of his hips. "What?" "Put your baby in me, H." "We agreed on two, Lou," he says, desperate to thrust himself into the body above him. "No," Louis says, "I said two, and you settled." or Alpha mom Harry and omega dad Louis decide to have another baby. Ironically, parenthood gets in the way.

read on ao3

[letthemusicmoveyou28]

*2023 Fic Fest Participation*

I am late to this, but thanks for tagging me @allwaswell16!

Number of fests: 6

Number of fics: 9

Favorite fest/fic: It is way too hard to pick just one! But 2023 was the year that I fell back in love with fic writing again, and I know that participating in all of these fests had a lot to do with that. One of my favorite fics came from @omegaversekinktober23 and was Hold You With My Hands Tied. I loved creating that universe, and it was my first time attempting A/B/O!

Fest you would love to do again this year (if they come back): I would definitely love to do @louisrarepairfest again, it was a fun challenge for me! My fic for @romcom1dficfest will be coming out early this year. I’m already signed up for @1domegaverseficfest and really excited for the prompt I got! I am also looking forward to @1duntraditionalabofest, such a cool idea!

Tagging: Absolutely zero pressure, but I’m tagging @neondiamond @parmahamlarrie @ladyaj-13 and anyone else that might want to do it!

Fics and thoughts under the cut!

With the Bomb Lighting for @wankersday 2023

E, 4k, Louis/Harry - Rockstar Harry, Rolling Stone Journalist Louis, Strangers to Lovers, Video Sex, Mutual Mastrubation

This was my first time writing smut where the two characters were not in the same room together. The premise is silly and ridiculous and I had the most fun writing it. 😊 Hoping to participate again this year as long as an idea comes to me!

It’s Only Sunny Cause the Planet’s Dying for @1dastroficfest Round 2.

E, 13.6k, Louis/Harry - Enemies to Lovers, Con-artist Louis, Detective Harry, mild violence

Enemies to lovers is one of my favorite tropes of all time, and I will happily die on that hill lol. The prompt I was given was Sappho, the Greek poetess whose work was deeply homoerotic and filled with love for her companions. In your chart Sappho shows you a place in your life where you feel affirmed. That was the aspect I decided to run with here. Two very different people who decided to stop worrying about what society wanted them to be or who they should love. I’d love to participate in round 3 of this fest as long as it fits into my schedule!

Hold You With My Hands Tied for @omegaversekinktober23

E, 12.4k, Louis/Harry - Omega Harry/Alpha Louis, BDSM Club, Strangers to Lovers

First of all, I had SO much fun participating in this fest. I loved figuring out what I wanted to write each week based on the prompts. I’m not sure if they are planning to do it again this year, but I will be there if they do! I absolutely fell in love with these characters and this AU, which is why I wrote another installment of it later on in the fest. 😉

Wearing You Like Clothes for @omegaversekinktober23

E, 5.9k, Louis/Harry - Omega Louis/Alpha Harry, Neighbors to Lovers, Louis in panties, breeding kink

Once I had the idea in my head, this is one of those ones that just sort of wrote itself. I loved writing the way that they realized their kinks lined up perfectly.

Wanna Make Your Body Numb for @omegaversekinktober23

E, 3.8k, Louis/Harry - Omega Harry/Alpha Louis, BDSM Club, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Cock Warming

This is part two of Hold You With My Hands tied, but it could probably be read on it’s own. I loved spending more time focusing on Harry discovering BDSM and that being submissive does not in any way mean giving up power, rather the opposite.

Chew You Up Like Candy for @omegaversekinktober23

E, 4.3k, Louis/Harry, Alpha Louis/Alpha Harry, Dom Louis/Sub Harry, Fucking Machine, Face Sitting

Whew! This one definitely challenged me, but in the absolutely best way. I was a little nervous to tackle an Alpha/Alpha pairing, but a really enjoyed exploring that dynamic. I guess Harry’s character in the fic and I both sort of went on that journey together lol. And I don’t know exactly why, but I think the smut scene in this one is one of my favorites I’ve ever written.

Slow Dance With the Tension for @1dtrickortreatfest

M, 666 words, Louis/Harry - Witch Harry/Human Louis, Established Relationship, Bratty Harry, Boys Kissing

I will admit, as a rambler it was very hard to keep this to the word count lol. But I had absolutely so much fun writing this one. Bratty witch Harry was just so self indulgent, and I loved writing Louis as his somewhat exasperated but fond and patient counterpart. Would love to participate in this fest again this year and maybe explore these two and this verse in another work at some point.

Got My Chaos Automatic for @louisrarepairfest 2023

E, 3.1k, Louis/Liam/Zayn - Poly Relationship, Canon Compliant, Dom Liam/Dom-Switch Zayn/Sub Louis

As evidenced by this list, I am no stranger to writing smut lol. This one was a little different from my usual though. First of all, I had never attempted a threesome before this and so there was some logistical things where I was like what do I do with all these people?? But I think I figured it out in the end lol. I also loved playing with their dynamics here. I purposely kept their relationship status a little vague, personally I just don’t really like a lot of labels and I felt it went well here. I also loved the idea of Louis putting up a bit of a fight mostly just because he really likes the struggle and he also knows how much his partners enjoy earning his submission. And I really loved writing Liam as the Dom who is a little strict but with the biggest heart. I felt like they all just fit together so well and were able to give each other exactly what they wanted/needed. I already said this at the top, but I’d love to participate in this fest again this year!

Stuck In Midnight Traffic for @1dchristmasfest 2023

M, 2.9k, Louis/Harry - Strangers to Friends (implied lovers), Harry has just left a verbally abusive relationship and Louis cheers him up

This was an idea that had been in my head literally for ages, and this fest seemed like the perfect opportunity to bring it to life! Hurt/Comfort fics are also a very loved genre of mine. And in the story Harry has a Christmas cactus named Kevin that never seems to bloom. That was actually inspired by my own plant (coincidentally named Kevin 😉), that I have had for over a decade now and took nearly 8 years to finally bloom. Sometimes things just take a little extra time and maybe some Christmas magic. 😊

[harrylights]

Fucking Avocados Rating: T Word count: 2.6k

“Actually,” Harry begins, picking one of the avocados up and tossing it in the air briefly before it lands in the palm of his hand again. “If you season them right, like I’m about to do, they’re really quite lovely on some toast,” he explains.

“Toast?” Louis questions, the confusion making his face scrunch up even further, as he shoots an overly incredulous look at Harry, slowly eyeing him up and down. “Harry, did you take one of my edibles by accident this morning?”

“No, you’ve just been living under a rock for the last few years, apparently,” Harry chuckles, shaking his head at him before returning to his task, slicing one of the avocados in half. “They’re really good for you, and besides. You’re acting like I came up with the idea. Loads of people do this,” he tells him decidedly.

Louis’ disbelief only grows starker on his face. “You’re telling me other people eat this? Voluntarily?”

“Yeah. Look it up, you fucking geezer,” Harry says, clearly amused. *** Or, my personal headcanon as to why Louis Tomlinson "doesn't like" avocados.

Read on AO3

[dogboyforzen]

i never make posts on this blog but finding other forzen fans in the wild and seeing our little fanbase over this character be called "forzenblr" (really cute name by the way) is like. yall make me wanna make more forzen content to actually post one of these times.

[hl-words]

gravesite poem

please, be the death of me, extract the price for the broken promise you made under duress of my tears.

please, come see my funeral, your eyes the only thing that can hold me down when they're nailing my coffin shut. lay me down. i won't go without you.

i'll be perfectly still on the day when your hand one last time twines with mine impart me with syllables of your choosing:

when charon asks for my silver, i'll pull those from my eyelids.

until then. i promise to keep alive, it (my) remains to be seen. i'll wait. to one day be cast from your palm. one last time. ashes light on the wind.

(oh but it's lonely in the grave, and the earth smells like smoke…)

[babyarcanacasey]

other than @onedirectionbigbang opening signups soon, does anyone know of any fic fests etc that are currently running/will be running?

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Aftermath

After waking up from a ten year stasis, Gordon finds himself back in the ruins of Black Mesa.

Notes: Hi half life fandom this is my first fic posted for HL. Also this is the first reveal of my HL au: Aftermath! So thats pretty neato, anyway hope you enjoy this short little prologue thing

Blackness was all he saw; darkness for miles, with pure nothingness filling the gaps. He couldn’t feel, see, or hear, and even trying to think of a single thing was proving to be a greater challenge than he’d expect. His thoughts blurred together into a sludge of meaningless ramblings, leaving him unable to process where he was, or how he got here. He had vague memories flashing in his mind, glimpses of concrete corridors and alien fauna. It was maddeningly barren, with the silence being enough to drive a man mad. How much time has passed since he arrived here? Has it been seconds? Days?  Time itself felt nonexistent at that very moment, simply a construct that meant nothing in this place. It felt as if he was in a dream, trapped in his own head as he traversed his own subconsciousness, floating in a vague void, unable to act or react to anything that could possibly be in there. He all but gave up hope of escaping this dark Hell he had found himself in, until he felt himself being pulled by an invisible force, and abruptly, there was light.

Gordon’s senses came back to him as fast as a train crash, the feeling of barely healed fractures and lacerations coming back to him as his nerves fired. Ringing flooded his hearing, with the HEV’s computer voice, an artificial voice he came to despise, sounding muffled and making it hard to process any of the words being said to him. He couldn’t move, his limbs feeling as if they were being pinned down by a massive weight, as if he was on the bottom of the ocean. The numbing pain shot up his legs and arms, though despite his wishes, there was no way he could even scream, with his throat tight and his vocal cords useless. He couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes, with the weakness draped across his body making even that menial action nearly impossible. He began to wonder if the infinite void he was in before would be better than reality, with the idea of feeling nothing rather than feeling everything to a painful degree seeming like a better option than what he was forced to bear.

As he laid on the rubble, he began to hear something new past the waning ringing; footsteps approaching him. Gordon desperately wanted to move, to protect himself from the new danger, yet as much as he tried, his limbs refused to budge. Soon he realized it was multiple sets of footfall coming near, and soon, he began to make out a voice.

The words slurred together in his mind, making the message hard to decipher, but a few words cut clearer than others:

“Breathing. Freeman. Alive. Help. Out.”

Gordon felt his limp body being moved, raised from the ground by someone, or something, being dragged across the concrete floor to somewhere else. Despite his foggy mind, Gordon couldn’t help but consider the worst; Xen creatures dragging him elsewhere to slaughter him as he did to them, and Military personnel taking him somewhere to question, torture, or even execute him were among the possibilities his short-circuting mind had come up with. However, before he could even do anything to try and prevent whatever fate might befall him, he felt himself drifting off, falling unconscious yet again.

He slowly stirred awake once again to hear the sound of an engine running and tires rolling across a gravel road. He was almost afraid to open his eyes, yet when he gained the strength to do so, his eyelids opened and he took a brief glimpse around. Through his blurred vision, he saw he was in the backseat of some sort of vehicle, laid across the seats. His metal HEV pressed against his body awkwardly, making any movement he could make uncomfortable. His head was supported with a wadded-up hoodie, and his body was covered by a thin blanket that had been thrown onto him. It was strange to see simple kindness extended to him, though he couldn’t help but wonder if it was a trick to make him let his guard down. He glanced towards the front seats, seeing the back of the drivers head, but not who was in the passenger seat. They were speaking to one another, but yet again the words fell out of Gordon’s grasp. He felt himself beginning to drift off again, and despite his wishes to stay awake, he grew limp as he fell unconscious yet again.

When Gordon next woke up, he was greeted with cold air around him. As he was pulled out of unconsciousness, he began to hear rhythmic beeping beside him; something he immediately recognized as a heart monitor. Gordon felt as if a weight was taken off of him, and when he gained the strength to open his eyes again, he saw the reason why. His HEV suit was missing, and he was instead wearing a pale blue hospital gown from what he could gather. He was laying in a bed, with its stiff mattress, albeit uncomfortable, feeling like heaven compared to laying on the cold concrete floors of Black Mesa. He saw bandages covering parts of his body, old blood seeping into them. Past his bed however, he could barely make out anything, with everything being blurry and hard to make out. He must have lost his glasses somewhere, but it was the least of his worries as the pain began to seep in. 

All his limbs felt sore, making it hard to move a single finger. His leg had a throbbing pain in his knee, and he felt as if he was being slashed with knives whenever he attempted to move his arms. His heart felt heavy and his lungs stinged with every breath. When was the last time he took a break to breathe? It felt like the days worth of fighting for his life hit him all at once, making him feel nearly paralyzed, and too tired to do anything to fight it. He began to wonder if it was best to be asleep; at least he wouldn’t have to think or feel. He began to wonder how he got here, racking his brain to try and bring up any clue of what had happened. The last thing he remembered before he woke up was being knee-deep in what he could assume was blood, staring up at something…he couldn’t even begin to describe. He killed the thing keeping the portal between earth and the border world open, so why did he feel so…empty? It felt as though his accomplishment meant nothing, as if he was missing something deep inside. He closed his eyes, attempting to fetch his blotted out memories for a shred of explanation, all before he shot his eyes open, a single image returning to his consciousness.

The man.

Gordon’s memories became clear as day when he remembered the man in the dull, navy blue suit. He remembered its unnaturally piercing eyes, staring deep into Gordon’s very being as if it was examining his very soul and regrets. He remembered its face, with it looking aged, yet it felt ageless at the same time. He remembered the unnatural way it stood, as if it was being held up with strings. He recalled the way it spoke to him as if it never spoke in its entire life before that very moment. He never got its name or its motivations, but something about remembering the man and its almost human facade caused his heart to skip a beat. Paranoia crept up in his mind, and the feeling of being watched began to be overwhelming. Something wasn’t right, as if something he didn’t see was coming after him. He needed to get out of here before it arrived.

Gordon forced his arms to move as he sat up in his bed, wincing before he turned to step out of bed, clasping the side of it with one of his shaking hands. As soon as he put weight on his leg, however, he collapsed onto the linoleum floor, ripping his IV out of his arm in the process. He let out a small squeak; the closest he physically could get to a scream, a pathetic noise that reminded him just how helpless he truly was at this moment. He pushed himself up as much as he could, arms shaking at the exertion, but he couldn’t get back onto his feet. As he tried to get off of the floor in vain, the door to the room opened, and a person appeared in the doorway. It was a nurse, coming into the room only to be greeted by Gordon unsuccessfully escaping his bed. She appeared surprised, immediately approaching him to help with getting him back onto the bed, despite his best tries to escape her grasp. She said a few things to try and comfort him, but Gordon couldn’t process the words before she quickly left the room, coming back with another doctor, presumably for help.

Gordon hated the fact he was back in the bed, with a new IV being attached and bandages being replaced. He wasn’t sure when the next threat would rear its head, and he needed to be prepared for when it did. Yet, he was all but incapable of doing anything of use, and he had to accept it. He could barely even move, less shoot a gun or swing a weapon at anything. 

“Dr. Freeman?”

Gordon was surprised to finally make out what someone was saying, looking up at the doctor who had just finished reattaching his IV. 

“You’re lucky to be alive,” He stated, almost smiling slightly. It was unclear if it was to try and make light of the situation or if it was relief. “Even more lucky to be awake right now. Though please, don’t try getting up again, alright? You might reopen stitches.”

Gordon stared at the doctor’s face blankly before leaning back and staring at the ceiling as the doctor continued talking.

“A couple of scavengers found you back at the ruins of Black Mesa, or, at least that's their story. You’ll have to speak with the police about the entire situation.” the doctor continued, “The Vortigaunt said you were lucky to be found in there, apparently had to drag you out of there.”

Gordon’s brows furrowed, not recognizing the word “Vortigaunt” despite the doctor bringing it up so casually. He looked back at the doctor with a puzzled look on his face. 

“I’m sure everyone will be happy to see you’re alive,” The doctor chuckled, trying to make light of the situation despite Gordon not reciprocating the cheerful atmosphere. “You’ve been gone for a long time, so a lot of us thought you would never return.”

Gordon’s puzzled expression turned to a look of borderline anger, wanting to ask so many questions but being unable to; he didn’t even know if the doctor knew sign language, and he didn’t have paper to write on, that is if he had the strength to hold a pencil.

“You look…upset,” The doctor said, his smile fading, “I can understand why, but if it brings you any comfort, you have hundreds of thousands of people who were wishing for your return. You’re a hero, you know.”

Gordon doubted that sentiment.

“We…believe you were in a coma, sir,” The doctor glanced at his nurse, as if he wanted help breaking the news, “...one that lasted ten years, so you're...lucky to be alive at all.”

The doctor continued to explain the situation, claiming that Gordon was lucky to have his brain still functioning despite being asleep for that long, but the words went through one ear and out the other. Gordon didn’t process the doctor trying to speak to him, only staring into the wall behind him as he leaned back in his bed. He didn’t even blink once as reality seemed to become meaningless, dissociating as his brain wouldn’t even allow him to process the time lost. To him, he was gone for a few mere moments, but an entire decade had passed in the time it took him to escape the void he was in for a brief, yet agonizing time. He wondered if his friends had forgotten about him, if they were even alive after the Resonance Cascade; they almost certainly believed he was dead at the very least. Gordon had been dead to the world for so long, he felt surprised anyone came to rescue him at all. After all, who would rescue the man who caused so much death in the span of a few days? Was he supposed to go back into normal society after everything? Was he supposed to be praised as a hero, despite the fact he was just a lowly scientist who just wanted to survive?

Gordon wished to go back to sleep. Being awake felt more agonizing than the temporary stasis ever did.

[louisarmpits]

Whenever I see a post defending rpf I think of the time I got hate mail for saying I wanted a hl fic based off a funny post on here

[causticsunshine]

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