#maybe I’ll have a stroke. scary to think about. I think about dying a lot but that potential feels too real. just… pop! and I’m done.

[floral-hex]

woke up at 4am feeling the weight of my life crushing me, so I’ve been sitting out in my car for the last couple of hours because I just need. to. be. somewhere else.

[amgk22]

“She’s Gone Mad”

Hi! You might know me as the person who’s obsessed with who’s in the lead of fics between rajbow/bowraj and mkulia. However, I’m also a writer, and I thought I’d publish the first chapter of my story onto here since a03 is down :(

the story’s an AU if Lauren/Scary Girl never competed in total drama and is instead a sheltered but slightly creepy new student at a school. Hopefully you enjoy the first chapter!

little girl, little girl

whatever path you take

I’ll be here through thick and thin

See what your future makes

==++==

My eyes are baggy. My lips are chapped. My legs feel frozen. I just can’t sleep. 

Tomorrow starts a new day at school. 

School…other people. 

I haven’t interacted with people much.

I’m more of an inside person. 

But my mom wanted me to make friends. 

I reach over to the edge of the table next to my bed, and grasp my hands on the record player. Turning it on, my favourite record plays. 

It’s my moms voice. She’s singing a lullaby. My dad said that she was going to sing this to me every night as soon as I was born. 

But she never got the chance. 

I lay back, and take a deep breath. The music calms me. 

I wonder what would happen if mom was here right now.

==++==

I pull up my left knee sock, my right sock already on. “Needs a bit of decoration,” I mumble. Looking at the clock, I see there’s still thirty minutes until the bus is supposed to come. Enough time to add some sparkle. 

My dad’s already at work. Usually I don’t like this, but now it works in my favour. Opening the door, I walk down my hallway to the kitchen. 

I step up on the ball of my feet, reaching up to the cabinet. I look for the purple food colouring. It’s right in the front, a bit of it is dried onto the lid. “Perfect,” I say to myself, grabbing the food colouring. Maybe I should put it in my water and tell people at school it’s poison. They’d all think it’s cool. 

I lay my knee socks flat on the table, as I take off the lid of the food colouring. “Gone goes the boring socks, here comes the unique design,” I mutter as I squeeze the bottle and the food colouring drips out. 

Drips on the top. 

Drips on the bottom. 

Drips on the left. 

Drips on the right. 

I still leave some white space, because plain purple socks is no better than plain white socks. 

The food colouring dries quickly, so I turn the socks around to colour the other side. 

Drips on the top. 

Drips on the bottom. 

Drips on the left. 

Drips on the right. 

As the socks dry, I go to the bathroom and look into the mirror. I practice my normal smile. It looks really good! I still don’t have any makeup yet. Only some concealer for when I had lots of acne two years ago. Now that my face is clear again; there’s really no need for the concealer. 

Grabbing my hair brush, I quickly stroke the brush through my dyed purple and pink hair. My dad freaked out when he saw it. But eventually, he embraced it and told me it looked amazing. 

I tie my hair up into pigtails, giving myself a satisfactory grin. I look very pretty, if I do say so myself. Checking the clock on the wall, there’s fifteen minutes left until the school bus arrives. What can I do in fifteen minutes?

I adjust my uniform anxiously as I stand in the bathroom, continuing to look at myself. Everyone’s gonna love my hair. Everyone’s gonna love my socks. Everyone’s gonna think I’m so pretty. 

I’m gonna be the most pretty girl at the entire school. 

==++==

I’m standing right by my driveway. The bus is about to arrive. It’s very yellow (dad showed me pictures) and has four wheels. Will the school be yellow too?

I’ve never seen a yellow building before. It would look very nice. 

rrrrrrrrrrrr. The bus is coming up my road. It’s finally time. I adjust my backpack, making sure it doesn’t fall off as I walk over to the other side in order to enter. 

“Hi bus driver lady!” I exclaim, waving and hugging the lady sitting, arms on the wheel. The lady does not look impressed. She gives me a look, first of annoyance, then of slight terror, before pointing to the seats emotionless.

“Okay! Not in the mood for hugs,” I say, walking down to find a seat. I’m about to sit next to a blonde girl, but she slams her hand down. 

“This seats saved,” The blonde girl said, chewing her gum. 

“For who?” I ask. 

“It’s saved,” the girl repeats. I get the message. I go over to another seat, but the boy does almost the exact same thing as the girl. 

And so does the entire bus.

“Hurry up and find a seat! We have school to get to!” The bus driver yells. I’m startled, and quickly run to a spot in the back. It’s empty, and I sigh of relief. Nobody can tell me not to sit here. 

“Sorry: but my friend’s sitting there,” a girl says, looking back. 

“Ugh!”

==++==

The bus parks. We all get off. As I walk towards the entrance, I notice people looking at me. Their faces are scared. Or grossed out. I don’t like it. 

“Excuse me Ma’am,” the principal says, holding a clipboard. “What happened to your socks?”

“I painted them!” I say. “They felt too..boring.”

“Well, we don’t want your socks to be a distraction to our other pupils, so I’ll have to ask you to take them off and spend today with no socks,” The principal tells me, placing her hand out. 

“What? But,” I look down at my socks. They don’t look distracting. The principals a meanie. A big meanie. However, she is the principal. I take off my socks and hand them to her as I hear giggles. Some people have been watching. 

I turn my head around, and glare at them. “Anything you’d like to say?” I ask, frustrated. The two don’t respond. “That’s what I thought,” I say, smirking. I put back on my shoes, and look one more time to the principal. “Sorry, miss.”

“Hopefully you’ll learn from your mistakes,” the principal says. “I’ll have some struggles with Lauren,” I hear her mumble. My name. Lauren. It’s always felt a tiny bit wrong. My mom wanted to name me something different- like Scarlett or “Scarlie” Gayle. My dad sometimes still calls me Scarlie, or Scary Girl. Cause Scarlie Gayle sounds like Scary Girl. How do I change my name?

“I will,” I say quietly, looking down as I walk down the hall to find my locker. As I glance to people, I notice things. They’re all friends. They’re all talking. They all have their hands making a C motion around their face, as if they’re whispering. Some are glancing at me. Some don’t even know I exist. 

If I join a group, I won’t be targeted. Right? I find my locker combination, and there’s a girl leaning on the side of my locker. She has blonde, curly, short hair, and I can’t keep my eyes off of her. Maybe it’s because I want to go into my locker, but I’m too scared to ask. Why am I too scared to ask?

“Can I get into my locker,” I mumble, as the girl and her friends talk. I repeat, “Can I get into my locker!” They still don’t respond. Now I’m getting mad. “CAN I GET INTO MY LOCKER!” I yell, covering my mouth immediately after I say that. 

A couple of people are looking my way, and the blonde girl looks completely terrified. “S-sorry,” she says, running off with her friends. I grin in satisfaction, as I open up the locker, and stare into my locker. It’s small, cold, and a bit of the paint is chapped off…

But it’s perfect.

==++==

It’s the first day of school for everyone. The teacher just told us. Of course, I should’ve known- but how is everyone friends already?

They must have been in the same junior high. 

I was homeschooled, so I’m not surprised people don’t know me. But they will soon. The teacher is getting everyone to say their names and 3 things they like. I’m almost up.

I wanna tell everyone my name is Scarlett, so they call me Scarlie Gayle. Would the principal hate me if I did that? 

You know what, I’m gonna do it. She took away my socks. “You, can you stand up and tell us your name and three things you like?” The teacher asks me. She has a very soft voice. And a nice smile. I get up, and walk over to the front. Here it goes. 

“Hi!” I say. “I’m Scarlett, Scarlett Gayle. But you guys can call me Scarlie.” So far, so good. Nobody’s told me my real name is Lauren. And that’s how it’s gonna stay. “I like painting, paper mache, and horror movies!” 

“That’s amazing Scarlett,” the teacher says. I sigh in relief. She doesn’t know I’m Lauren. “Why do you like horror movies?”

“Because everyone has such a distinct scream,” I reply. “I’ve seen them all. Saw, scream, human centipede..” I list off all the horror movies I’ve watched, and I notice that a couple of people are startled by my interest in horror movies. Did I say too much?

“Hey, that’s the scary girl on the bus!” One of the guys in the background say. He has brown hair. I think he was someone who rejected me from sitting with him. 

“Yeah!” I say. “I was on the bus! Why didn’t you let me sit with you?”

This just makes people chuckle. What did I do wrong? “Was it something I said?” I ask. “Why are you laughing! Tell me!” I feel myself getting angrier as they keep away the secret on why they’re laughing at me. They’re meanies! They’re all meanies!

“Come on you guys, give Scarlett a break,” The teacher says, but they don’t listen. 

Why aren’t they listening?

What did I do?

Is it all my fault?

“Stop!” I exclaim, frustrated again. “Why are you laughing!” I stomp my foot in anger, and clench my fists. 

“Everyone, seriously, stop,” the teacher says, finally dying down the laughter. “Scarlett, I’m sorry about that. You may sit.”

“Thanks teacher!” I say, sitting down. However, now that I hear everyone better, it’s clear they’re still giggling. And laughing.

What did I do wrong?

[anandabrat]

Nightmare Warehouse, day 4! With, as always, @starshipblueberry.

“What’s the last thing you remember? Or maybe the first thing… I think my brain is leaves, Helena. Leaves. How am I even thinking? I have no synapses to fire! And if I did get near fire I’m pretty sure I’m very, very flammable.”

Helena chuckles and squeezes Myka’s hand with her boney phalanges. “I was already on fire, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Okay, so either you are taking this very well, or I’m in the middle of a full blown panic attack, and I’m not sure what is worse!” Myka snaps and tries to hit Helena with her other hand. but it is still missing. “I miss my arm. I would like my arm back, please.”

Helena scratches her skull, in a mannerism that does not belong to her, but that in this world feels very pensive. “Well then. I think we should make that our first stop. Do you remember where in town you were when you lost your arm?”

Myka takes a deep breath. “I do. But first I think we need to see if what we remember from before is the same. Maybe there is a clue that can help us…. Get out of here.” The ghost dog Zero whines a little when Myka says that.

“Oh, Zero, don’t take it personally,” Helena says warmly, and scratches at his ghosty ears. “We were at a party. At the BnB. A Halloween party. And Claudia said she had a surprise.”

“Right. Halloween party. And Claudia started playing music.”

“And it felt like falling.”

“Curiouser and curiouser. Right, falling. And I woke up…”

“...In a hallway with doors,” Helena supplies.

“Now that,Alice in Wonderland. No, I woke up in a movie theater, red chairs and everything… did you wake up somewhere else?”

“It appears so, I woke up in a hallway. Four doors or so. I went into one, and a red headed man with tinted glasses looked me up and down and shrugged in an ‘you’ll do�� sort of way. He did my makeup” Helena gestures at her face. Perhaps it started off as makeup, but it is becoming more and more believable by the minute. “And then he sent me to another door, and another man with prominent cheekbones helped me into this fine suit. He sent me into the theater room you describe and the screen went all shimmery…”

“And you stepped through. I did, too. I don’t remember the other two men you mention, just the theater and then I felt pulled –”

“From your belly button?”

“Right. Like being late for a math test. I had to get here. I had a job to do.”

“Hmmmmmm.” Helena strokes her chin. “Do you smell fudge?”

“No. I smell leaves. Decay. Do you?”

“I appear to have lost olfactory senses. And possibly my nose?”

“Fucking hell, Helena. Are we in a movie? The theater, makeup, costumes… but this doesn’t feel pretend. I mean. Arm. Missing.” She gestures at Helena’s face. “ Nose. Missing”

“Indeed. Movie Magic. It is rather amusing.”

“Is it though?”

*** 

“Pay up!” Pete whoops and does a victory dance.

“With what? Anyways she didn’t figure out what movie,” Steve protests, but not with a lot of  oomph. “Who hasn’t seen Nightmare Before Christmas?”

“Those two!” Claudia whines. “Having the best adventure in the history of adventures, and we are just stuck sitting here watching it. I would have this solved like that!” She snaps her fingers.

“No doubt that is why the whammy picked them, “Pete injects sagely. “ That and all the, you know. Sexual tension. No sense pouting about it, Claud. And as much fun as sitting here watching this is, we probably need to… explore? Try and help?”

“You’re just outta cookies,” Claudia says, sticking her tongue out.

“Also that. And I’m dying to see if who is in makeup is who I think it is.”

“He’s a master of fright and a demon of light,” Steve sings. “God I love this movie. Okay. I think. You two go check out makeup and see what you find, and I’ll stay here and keep an eye on Myka and Helena. None of us are onstage for ages, so I think we can move around?”

“Solid plan. C’mon Pete, let’s go get scary.”

[bubblegumbeech]

Haunted Towers and Hidden Truths

Phic Phight prompt by @lexiepiper

Write a more traditional ghost story. How would things change if ghost powers weren’t super powers, but closer to old horror movie tropes?

“We shouldn’t do this Danny,” Sam said, ever the voice of reason. “This place isn’t like our usual haunts.“

But Danny shook his head, “No Sam, I have to do this. I have to know what that dream meant, if it was really a dream or something else.”

He moved to take a step forward when his other friend, Tucker, grabbed his arm, “I don’t know man, I think she’s right. There isn’t a possessed item to destroy, or an overactive ghost to try and calm down, heck even Vlad has a weakness we can exploit, we don’t know anything about this place. What if we don’t make it out of this one?”

“Come on Tucker,” Danny argued, his own confidence nothing but a mask, “It can’t be as bad as the haunted video game right? You die in the game you die in real life!”

Tucker didn’t laugh, “this is serious Danny, I know that dream had you messed up, but what if it was just that? A dream?”

“Or,” Sam cut in, “What if it’s a trap? Remember how Desiree tried to get us with that monkey’s paw when she realized we were getting involved with every scary story and urban legend in town and she didn’t want us to find out about her?”

There was also the time a ghost discovered Danny’s secret and decided to haunt him personally and make his life a living hell until he and Tucker were able to exorcise it. It had involved a gorilla, a lot of research into dead safari hunters, and one of his parent’s inventions that they rigged to do what they needed before destroying it so it couldn’t be used against Danny himself. 

“We made it through all of those things together, remember when we first saw Cujo? And we thought he was to blame for Valerie’s mother?” Danny said.

Sam deflated, “and then we did research and discovered that Cu Sith only foretell death, not cause it… But Danny, we tried to research this place, remember? We found nothing. It’s like it doesn’t exist.”

“Yeah man,” Tucker scratched the back of his neck uncertain, “I couldn’t find so much as a blueprint. No building plans, nothing. The only thing we have to go on are stories from reckless kids trying and failing to spend the night.”

“You don’t have to follow me, the last thing I want is to put you both at risk. Especially after last time.” 

Tucker groaned, “Danny you know we aren’t going to let you do this alone right? Especially not after Walker’s prison. Who knows what would have happened if we didn’t come in and save you?”

Danny smiled, “I probably would have starved to death to be fair, but yeah, I’ll try to avoid getting locked in any metal cages, deal?”

“To be fair,” Sam said, returning his smile with one of her own, strained though it was, “you probably would have died of thirst first.”

Chuckling at his friends' attempts to lighten the mood once they realized his mind wouldn’t be changed, Danny finally let himself look up at the place in question. It was a tall, crooked looking clocktower with old, brittle wood and peeling paint. In the low light of the evening it looked almost purple and with the dust and cobwebs covering it, it was clear no one had been inside for quite some time. 

The Clocktower was a recurrent presence in his dreams, the ones he’d started having since the accident that made him the way he was: different from any person, but not quite anything else. It was always there in the background, but he’d never gone inside. 

Once, during a particularly dull recurring dream where he relived the life and consequent death of a warehouse worker, he’d walked away from the endless piles of boxes and tried to go inside the clocktower instead. But no matter how far he traveled, it was always the same distance away. He just couldn’t get to it. 

Danny couldn’t shake the feeling though, that something inside might have the answers he’s been searching for. So he stepped forward, and knocked on the door.

There was no answer, of course, and  Danny almost felt foolish doing it, but also, ghosts and spiritual beings all had their own rules and perceptions of what is or isn’t polite, most of which Danny had stumbled into learning the hard way, and it really didn’t hurt to check.

“No answer,” Sam said and Danny nodded, turning the handle. It was old and brass and when it turned it made a loud grinding noise that vibrated along his arm. But it did open, and without Danny needing to persuade it, so that had to be a good sign right?

Unless it really was a trap. 

“Maybe we should leave someone outside, in case it really is like Walker’s prison.” He offered, but both of his friends shook their heads and stepped past him. It was dark, musty and smelled in a weird way, like a library. If a library had locked its doors and not let anyone enter for a good century or so. 

Sam took the lead, her flashlight catching on unfamiliar shapes and shadows. “Do you know what we’re looking for?” she asked, her voice uncertain. 

Danny shook his head, “Not really, just… answers.”

They looked around the ground floor at first, but if it held anything particularly supernatural or important, it wasn’t going to be found. “This just looks like my grandma's living room.” Tucker complained, taking the sheet off of one of the couches, “we need to go further in if we want to actually find something.”

He wasn’t wrong, Danny looked over to the spiralling staircase in the back of the room, and then to the other doors that surrounded it on the first floor. “It’s probably better to do this systemically right? Go through every room on each floor and move our way up?”

“You mean like in a video game?” Sam asked, “sure, we can do that.”

They started on the left, but that room wasn’t much better when it came to finding any kind of clues. It held a kitchen, a very old kitchen, with a stove and oven that Danny had only ever seen in period movies. But…

“Why does it smell like cookies?” Danny asked, turning to his friends who both looked at him like he was crazy.

“Cookies? Yo, Danny this place smells like straight up death. Not cookies.” Tucker said, backing away from the oven and starting to open up cabinets. 

Sam rolled her eyes and did the same on the other side of the kitchen, “it doesn’t smell like death you dolt, it smells… like a graveyard.”

Danny walked to the middle of the room, towards the oven- he always made sure to be the one seeking out the more dangerous or suspicious things in the haunts they went to- while the two of them bickered. They tended to start these smaller, petty arguments when they were scared, it took the edge off. 

“Duh?” Tucker said, and Danny heard him slam one of the cabinets shut, “graveyards are death? What does it smell like to you? Your Mom’s perfume?”

“No, it smells like someone dying, you know all hospital chemicals and gross stuff.”

There wasn’t anything in the oven, but oddly, Danny had felt a wave of warmth when he opened it. Almost like it had just been used. But, ghosts didn’t need to eat, right? And there couldn’t have been a person living here, they’d notice that. At least, Danny hopes they would notice that. After being in dozens of life or death scenarios hinging on whether they noticed important but minute details, they’d become pretty good at that kind of thing.

“Ugh! Don’t talk about hospitals, I’m still not over North Mercy, that was horrible,” Tucker turned to Danny, leaning on one of the counters and ignoring the cabinet he opened right behind his head. “What do you think death smells like Danny?”

Danny walked over and closed the cabinet, he didn’t want something to suddenly appear inside of it all twisted limbs and empty eyes or for something to crawl out and scare them, or even have it slam shut on Tuckers head, like some ghosts were known to do. He didn’t have to put much thought into his answer, “It smells like burnt flesh, electricity, and polished wood.”

Tucker paled, “oh… right. Sorry.” 

He shrugged, “anything yet?”

“Not unless you count cobwebs, dust, and deteriorating cooking books,” Sam answered, walking over to both him and Tucker. 

Danny looked around at the kitchen, it looked normal, even some dying light shone in from the one window along the outer wall. The only thing weird was the shape and that was because it was at the bottom of a spiralling clocktower. There was nothing particularly scary about the place, and frankly Danny didn’t know what to do with that.

“Let’s move on, this place is giving me the creeps,” Sam said, crossing the room and going to the next door. 

Danny and Tucker followed, unwilling to be left behind, or to let her go on her own. The next room was the same size as the other two, but it had an extra window and was crammed absolutely full of books. Just books. Stacks and stacks of them where they didn’t fit on the shelves, which were completely packed themselves, and Danny had the thought that this was probably what he was smelling when they first walked in. 

It was a library. A personal one, but without any room to sit or anything to sit on despite the genuinely impressive display of books and Danny found himself gently stroking his hand against the cover of a book on the top of the nearest stack, When Ghosts Speak: Understanding Earthbound Spirits.

“Please tell me we aren’t reading all of this,” Tucker whined. Danny frowned, why wouldn’t he want to read these? It was a treasure trove of information, these books could have countless, researched, answers to questions they’ve been asking since the start of everything! 

What if one of these books could tell them why Amity Park seemed to attract the supernatural, why they seemed to gain power within the city’s boundaries, why Danny wasn’t dead. He wanted nothing more than to grab any one of these books, walk into the next room, with the couches and comfortable chairs, sit down and read and read until he found something, anything he could use. 

These books might even be able to help him deal with the supernatural threats that plagued their town. Mostly they’ve been surviving through luck and half baked internet searches with the occasional trip to the town library. And while it had been enough so far, Danny was practically salivating at the thought of being properly, genuinely prepared for something for once. 

“Of course we aren’t,” Sam said, dragging Danny out of his fantasies of maybe knowing what he was doing, “they’re completely deteriorated. If we even tried to open one it would probably fall apart.”

Danny frowned, and then looked down at the book he’d subconsciously grabbed. It didn’t seem as bad as Sam was describing, but he also didn’t want to risk it either. He’d realized early on there was a difference between what he was seeing and what was actually real. He set it down gently and looked around the rest of the room with his friends. 

“Are we so sure this place is haunted?” Danny asked. By then, the sun had set entirely and the only light left was their flashlights. High powered and with fresh batteries they were still little use against the encroaching dark and Danny wanted to move on to the next floor already if he wasn’t going to be able to open a book. 

Tucker stood up from behind a precariously leaning shelf and dusted himself off, “Dude you’re the one that said there was something here and we needed to investigate. Remember, like an hour ago when the two of us were trying to stop you from going inside?”

Danny scoffed, “that’s not what I mean.”

“What do you mean then?” Sam asked, stepping closer so she could meet his eyes. There was something in her expression, curiosity or suspicion, Danny couldn’t quite parse. 

“I…” Danny stopped to think, what did he mean? Was it just that the place didn’t feel haunted? There wasn’t anything here trying to scare him away, no ominous winds or loud knocking, but they’ve gone into haunts before that took a long time to start actually reacting to them. “There’s no, I don’t know how to explain it. Usually when we go somewhere haunted, that a ghost has a claim to or whatever… there’s this feeling that I’m trespassing? I don’t feel like I’m trespassing here.”

That probably didn’t make any sense, and despite everything they didn’t usually act on Danny’s gut instincts as a group without evidence. The issue with the circus and it’s terrifying owner was a lesson too well learned after all. 

True to expectations neither Sam nor Tucker looked convinced. They shared a quick ‘what now’ look between each other and Danny resisted taking a step back and sinking into the wall. Not that he could do that, as far as he knew he couldn’t do that. Only actual ghosts could do something like that and despite everything Danny was still human- well, still had a physical form. 

Permanently. 

“Let’s move on upstairs,” Sam reasoned, “if Danny’s right there won’t be any harm in it, and if he’s not we’ll find out once whatever’s here starts actually reacting to us, right?”

Perfectly reasonable and logicked as always. Danny nodded and walked to the next door, if he was right it would lead into the room they had first entered with the staircase that twisted and climbed higher and higher into the heart of the tower. That was the next place to go. He knew that.

Tucker gently patted his shoulder as they walked towards the base of the stairs, “yeah, maybe the ghost doesn’t consider this bottom part his haunt? Maybe he just likes the clock on top?”

Danny smiled, “like the hunchback of Notre Dame?”

Smiling back, Tucker nodded, “exactly! Oh man, we gotta find out if that guy is real one of these days.”

“We have our hands a bit tied with Amity Park without going after disney characters,” Sam said, pushing the two of them from behind so they’d actually go up the stairs. “Now let's get a move on, I want to be back home before breakfast so my parents don’t realize I snuck out again.”

There was something Danny could say but he bit back the comment about how at least her parents would notice and quickly walked up the stairs instead. As soon as his feet touched the first step a bubbly feeling lifted in his chest, and it made him want to go higher as fast as he could there was someone up there waiting for him-

“Danny!” Sam called out, grabbing him by the arm, “calm down!”

Her grip on his arm was tight and Danny looked down to see what had her panicked only to find his feet had left the stairs entirely and he’d started floating upwards instead of walking. Like a human. Like his friends. Like what he was supposed to be. 

He swallowed and let himself sink back down, forcing the feeling in his chest back as much as he could. It was like trying to kill the fizz in a shaken soda by screwing a cap back on it and he struggled with it for a moment. He’d never felt like this before- sure, most ghosts and other supernatural entities tended to broadcast emotions to a higher degree than humans, and with them also being natural empaths and Danny’s unfortunate situation it often led to him being overtaken by emotions that weren’t necessarily his own. 

It’s just, they’ve never been this overwhelmingly positive before.

Even with Vlad, as human as he was, his emotions were always tinted with obsession and desperation. His need to have Danny and his mother for his own colored every interaction he’d had with the man and it often left a bitter, strained feeling in his chest. Right now, Danny felt almost giddy. And he wasn’t even sure it wasn’t just his own emotions, reacting to the environment around him. It was a nice environment after all. 

But Danny was good at ignoring things like that. 

“My bad. I’ll try and keep my feet on the ground from now on.”

Sam looked conflicted, “Danny you know we don’t mind you using your powers,” Danny nodded, they’d told him so many times over and over again, “But we don’t want to lose you to them. You promised to stay with us, remember?”

Danny smiled, “I remember. I won’t end up like that, I promised. That’s why we’re here right? To stop it?”

Sam nodded and let him go. 

The second floor was similar to the first, in that it had three rooms leading into each other with the spiral staircase in the center. Danny started with the door on the right. It was a study. There was a desk, paperwork, and a bottle of ink with a quill and Danny found himself wondering just how old this clocktower really was. And how long it had been since its occupant was truly here, alive, if ever. 

They split up and started looking around, eagerness exposed in their movements. This was the most likely place to have something useful, especially if whoever spent their time here was as studious as the lower floor suggested.  Danny went for the desk. 

There was a note on it, in perfect, looped handwriting and the ink was still glistening, fresh from the bottle if the smell had anything to say about it. Danny ran his hand across the words hoping to smudge it, but it had dried already, if barely. 

It’s nice to meet you, little anomaly.

Danny grit his teeth. 

“Guys,” he called out, holding the paper, “It knows we’re here.”

Sam and Tucker rushed over, and Sam grabbed the paper from his hand to read for herself. “Little anomaly? Isn't that kind of insensitive?”

“Yeah,” Tucker agreed, “you just have weird ghost powers right? Vlad’s the same way it’s not like you’re the only person on the planet like you.”

Hesitant to correct him, Danny bit his tongue. It was true that Vlad was a person who had unfortunately gained the abilities of a ghost, things like floating, making objects move with his mind or using his spirit to control people while he slept safe and sound at home. And he’d gained them in a similar way to Danny as well, trusting the wrong people and delving into things he never fully understood and still didn’t. 

It was just … less true for Danny was all. 

But he wasn’t going to tell them that, he wasn’t going to tell anyone that. So how did whoever, or whatever this was, know? Or was it just saying things to get under his skin, that was pretty par for the course when it came to ghosts. So why wasn’t it doing anything else? Trying to get them to leave? Was Sam right? Was it really a trap this entire time? What would happen if they went back downstairs and tried the door, would it open?

He grabbed the paper and shoved it into one of his jackets pockets, there was plenty of time to freak out over it later after all. “Let’s keep looking around, there has to be something here that it’s trying to distract us from.”

Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything more useful than there had been downstairs. Just what one would expect from a normal office. What papers he did find had detailed extensive notes, yes. But they were in a language Danny couldn’t read and neither Sam nor Tucker even recognized. It was infuriating!

Almost like whoever was haunting this place, was telling them it had all the answers they wanted but wouldn’t give them any. He just wanted to know how - Danny shook his head. There had to be something. He wouldn’t have been led all the way here, had all those dreams, if there was nothing he could do at all. 

He threw one more frustrated look around the office before he threw the stack of papers he’d been digging through on the floor and marched over to the next door. It was unlocked, again, just like all of the others and it only served to increase Danny’s frustration. 

“Wait, Danny,” Sam noticed him leaving and quickly followed, the door slammed shut behind them, locking Tucker inside the office.

“No,” he whispered, this was all his fault, he shouldn’t have let this ghost get in his head like this! He never should have let his emotions take him over, he knew better. It led to bad things. Horrible, terrible, things. 

There was a loud bang on the door, someone was pounding against it and Danny flinched. Was the actual haunting finally starting? Was everything really just a way to lure them deeper into the tower and away from each other? 

“Guys?” he heard Tucker call out from the other side of the door, “did you seriously just leave me behind? Don’t we have like, a rule against that?!” 

Danny sighed in relief, it was just Tucker. “Are you okay Tuck? Did anything happen over there when the door shut? Any oozing walls or flying papers-”

There was another thump, probably Tucker banging his head against the door, “I know what to look for Danny I’ve been doing this the exact same amount of time as you.”

“Yeah yeah,” Danny acquessed. “Just get to the stairs and we’ll meet you there.”

He exchanged a glance with Sam, she was glaring a hole into the side of his head and he felt guilty for being the cause of everything going wrong, again. So he apologized and ignored her exaggerated eye roll when she said he should have known better, because well, he did. But what was he going to do, apologize twice?

The room they were in was a simple one, likely some kind of storage space that he and Sam could dig through for hours on end, but it was more important to get to Tucker than to try and make sure they didn’t miss anything. 

Which, in hindsight, was probably exactly why they’d been separated. 

A cold breeze tickled at Danny’s hair and he felt himself relax despite it all. It felt nice, the cold, and Danny liked when the haunts they went to leaned towards the chillier side like this. Sometimes, especially if Vlad was involved, it felt like he was walking into an overwarm swamp when he entered a haunt and it made him itchy and uncomfortable the entire time. Vlad never seemed to notice, and his friends complain equally about both, so Danny had mostly kept it to himself. 

The entire tower felt nice, cold dry air, the smell of books, ink, and cookies, even the playful, excited feeling that seemed to permeate throughout the tower. Like someone had designed it to appeal in every way to both sides of Danny’s instincts. 

It was unnerving. 

He followed Sam out of the room and back into the middle where the stairs were, but Tucker wasn’t there. 

Sam pulled out her phone, and Danny held his breath as it rang, once, twice, and then a click and Tucker’s familiar, annoyed voice came through the speaker and Danny sighed in relief. “Uh guys? I couldn’t get out the door so I tried to climb out a window, and there was uh, a ladder. So I’m outside right now. Come get me?”

Danny met eyes with Sam and nodded, they headed back down, “we’re coming Tuck,” he said.

“Cool, cool, actually rather than coming to get me, can we just go home? Come back later, like in the day time? How come we never do these things in the daytime?”

“You know that’s not how ghosts work Tucker.” Sam said, bored, as they walked to the front door. Danny felt a tug, something like a hand on his shoulder and turned to see what was behind him. There wasn’t anything there. 

He turned back around to see that Sam had already walked outside, and was holding the door open for him, one of her eyebrows raised. Awkwardly, Danny jogged a little, so as to not hold them up too long. But before he could actually walk outside the door slammed shut.

Sam screamed.

“Danny! Are you okay!” Tucker asked, his voice panicked and muffled from the other side of the door.

“I’m fine,” Danny said, gritting his teeth and turning around. The room didn’t look or feel any different. There was nothing screaming at him to get out or anything else malicious. If anything it seemed even cosier than before, and Danny didn’t really know how to react to that. 

He looked back at the door. There was a way, no. He couldn’t do that. Danny pinched at the bridge of his nose, the only thing to do, really, was to see who had invited him in. That’s what it was right? Some kind of weird ghostly invite?

“I’m going to go check upstairs,” he called out to his friends before walking back towards the staircase. 

They pounded on the door, “Danny don’t you dare go up there without us! Just wait, we’ll find a way in! It’s dangerous alone!” 

Ignoring their protests Danny took the stairs two steps at a time, fighting the rising excitement in his chest and firmly planting his feet against the polished wood. There were answers waiting for him, he knew there were. He just had to find them. 

The third floor had a bedroom, it was nice, cozy and the bed even looked inviting. Danny didn’t bother to stay long. Whoever it was that called him here wasn’t in this room, nor were they in the next or the one after that. Just two bedrooms and a bathroom on that floor and Danny quickly made his way to the next. 

This room was different from the rest. For one there were windows, everywhere, that seemed to play different scenes of different people from all over the world. If Danny strained his ears, he could even hear them speaking different languages. On the other side from the windows was an entire wall of clockwork that chimed and churned as the gears moved, keeping the face of the clock on the outside ticking along in sync with the rest of the world. 

When Danny stepped into the room properly the carpet sunk easily underneath his feet and he felt a nice, cold breeze that came from a purple flamed fire housed properly in a fireplace in the middle of the room. He hadn’t even noticed a chimney from outside. 

There was a man in front of the fire. He was tall and hooded and he carried an equally tall and gnarled staff in one of his gloved hands. Danny felt himself freeze, he had never seen a ghost this solid before. There was always a little bit of transparency, no matter how powerful, they didn’t have physical forms afterall. Not like Danny.

“Who are you?” he asked. His voice was dry and soft and Danny was thankful when it didn’t crack on his question. How embarrassing would that have been? 

The man turned around, his face changing as he did from old and aged to a younger one, closer to his parent’s age, a large jagged scar marking it’s way through one of his eyes and down his cheek. He smiled, “I am Clockwork, Master of time. All that was, All that is, and All that will be. I understand you have many questions for me. I hope to answer them.” 

A thousand questions ran rapidly through his mind, why did you call me here? Did you call me here? Why get rid of my friends? What are you and why haven’t I seen anything like you before?

“How do I prevent myself from becoming that.” Danny asked the most pressing question first, desperate. The man-ghost-Clockwork, sighed and gestured for him to sit. There was a comfortable looking couch with an equally comfortable chair across from it and a plate of cookies set on an elegantly carved coffee table between the two.

“That’s easily answered, sit, have a cookie.” Clockwork floated over, crossing his legs and settling into the chair before grabbing a cookie for himself. 

Danny glanced at them, uncertain, before taking a seat. The couch was even more comfortable than it looked and he found himself sinking back into it, confused. The room was a nice, cold, temperature as well, despite the fire clearly burning in the fireplace. 

He grabbed one of the cookies, “can I eat these?” he asked, looking over at his host.

“Of course,” Clockwork smiled, taking a bite of his own before leaning back, “I made them for you. Though your friends would have to be more careful, I’m not sure what food like this would do to a human.”

“I am human,” Danny argued, placing the cookie back on its plate. He had to, denial was all he had left at this point. 

Clockwork frowned, “yes, well, I suppose we’ll get there next. You wanted to know about your dreams.”

Finally, Danny nodded, “they’re different ever since- uh well… ever since the incident.”

“It’s natural to not want to talk about one’s death,” Clockwork said, he leaned forward and tilted his head, “or one’s birth.”

“My dreams,” Danny asked, avoiding that conversation with all the grace of a blind hippo, “why are they different. You know right?”

Sighing, Clockwork nodded and leaned back, “yes, I know everything. They’re different, frankly, because they’re dreams. It’s unsettling to you because it’s new, you’ve never dreamed before.”

Danny scowled, “that doesn’t make any sense, I had plenty of dreams when-”

Clockwork interrupted him, disappointment plain under his hood, “You can lie to your friends Daniel, but I already know the truth. Just as you do.”

“I was astral projecting. Like what Vlad does… but then why-?” Danny bit his tongue. He couldn’t say it, not outloud. It was too difficult, he’d spent too long hiding it, pushing it away and doing everything he could to keep anyone from noticing. 

“Why can’t you do it anymore?” Clockwork answered for him, Danny nodded. “The simple answer is that you aren’t like Vladimir, despite what he believes and would like you to believe as well. But that’s something else you already know. Ask me a question you don’t have the answers for.”

Danny grabbed another cookie, biting into it fiercely just to have an excuse not to speak. It tasted really good, better than anything he’d had in a while and Danny wondered if maybe there was something in it meant to sate his less human cravings. The thought didn’t help his inner turmoil. 

Clockwork smiled softly at him though and sighed, “Fine, in order to answer your question, first I have one of my own.”

“Didn’t you just say you know everything?” Danny mumbled before shoving more cookie in his mouth. 

“What good is a teacher that only lectures?” Clockwork said in retort, “do you remember how you died?”

He did, of course he did. “Kinda hard to forget that. Lab accident, electrocution, nothing fancy.” he said, curling in on himself. Clockwork had been right before, it was painful to talk about. But he wanted, no, needed the answers to his questions. He’d survive this. 

“Well, that’s where your first mistake lies. Yes, that is what stopped your heart, and likely the most memorable part, but you didn’t die from that Daniel. What killed you came after.”

Danny frowned, “that doesn’t make any sense? What happened after?”

“Your spirit was never particularly bound to your body in the first place, likely due to your parents dabbling where they shouldn’t for as long as they did before you were ever born. There was a summoning, I think you remember, that your parents were holding when your accident happened on the floor below them.”

It was frustrating, that he was right. That he knew it. “I remember them recognizing me, my spirit. I remember them finding my body and shoving me back in. I remember the pain, and waking up and seeing-” Danny choked on the realization. It couldn’t be...

“Seeing the world in your dreams?” Clockwork asked, “the way you saw it when you were a spirit, free from the confines of your body, correct?” He floated over the table, sat next to Danny, and placed a hand on his back. Danny realized he had been shaking. 

He grabbed the fabric of his jeans in a tight grip and tried to stop, “It’s all real, right? It isn’t… I’m not still dreaming? Please, I need to know.”

The hand on his back pulled him close, tucked into Clockwork’s side and Danny felt comforted despite himself, he fought to blink away tears that had been building behind his eyes as he tucked himself into Clockwork’s side. He was so solid, unlike any other ghost Danny had ever met and he seemed to radiate comfort where most just gave off fear and hurt. 

“You’re not dreaming Daniel, you never were. The world is different when you see it  through our eyes, that is all. When you woke up, you weren’t human anymore. Of course you wouldn’t be limited by a human’s sight.”

Danny curled into himself tighter, despair clouding around him and likely leeching unpleasantly into the air. It would be a wonder if Clockwork didn’t feel it. “So I’m a ghost.”

“Hardly,” Clockwork said and Danny stopped breathing, “Do you think the world is so simple it is split between what is ghostly and what is not?”

“I…” Danny had actually assumed that. So far everything they’d dealt with so far, short of Vlad, had either been a ghost or spirit of some kind, or a human that used magic or ghostly artifacts. Even Vlad had simply been a person who had learned how to control his own spirit the way a ghost would. If Danny wasn’t a human, and he wasn’t a ghost, then what was he?

Clockwork ruffled his hair, “I suppose you’re young. It is easier, afterall, to think of it that way. But Daniel, ghosts don’t have physical forms. They can possess one, or control one, and sometimes even mimic one, but they are spirits.”

He sighed, “you are something entirely different. You’re something remarkable.”

Danny leaned back, using the sleeves of his hoodie to quickly dry his tears so he could look Clockwork in the eye, “What am I?”

“You’re new.”

Danny shoved him, “Agghh, I knew that you jerk!” It was probably a bad idea to attack or antagonize someone as clearly powerful and knowledgeable as Clockwork, but really he’d been asking for it. And Danny’s patience was only so strong. 

Clockwork didn’t fight him back though, nor did he get offended. Instead he just smiled that soft smile that Danny was starting to realize was affection, and said, “did you? Weren’t you trying to read my books to find out if there was anyone else like you?”

“Well yeah-” Danny stopped, “Oh. There wouldn’t be anything would there? If I’m the first?”

He groaned, that really was just his luck. He’d never figure out anything at this rate. Clockwork, the bastard, just hummed and grabbed another cookie, offering it to him. “No there wouldn’t. But you’re not the only one who was the first or only of their kind. Who had to figure out on their own, who and what they are.”

“You mean Vlad?” Danny asked, the thought left a sour taste in his mouth, wow he really hoped he didn’t mean Vlad.

Clockwork’s smile turned brittle, “I don’t mean Vlad.”

Danny chuckled, his thoughts turning mischievous, “I don’t know, he seems pretty unique, what with all those different abilities he has and the way he can choose to be human or ghost-”

“Oh please,” Clockwork interrupted, “there’s plenty of humans like Vladimir Masters, you were fully capable of astral projecting like that from birth, no black magic necessary. Just because he found a way to twist-”

He stopped, then looked down at Danny who was trying and failing to hold back a shit eating grin. All at once the air seemed to leave him and he deflated, the irritated look on his face replaced with open and honest affection and Danny felt it sing in the air around them.

“You were messing with me.”

“To be fair I didn’t think it would work, all knowing and everything.” Danny said, unable to fight the bubbling feeling in his chest as it rose to meet the affection around them. Usually it sucked having the empathy of a ghost and being near one or at least, something with the same traits. The negative emotions tended to bounce between him and them and amplify and it always made Danny struggle to parse his own emotions from theirs. But right now, in the top of a clock tower with the most powerful entity Danny had ever met, he felt happiness and joy to a degree he’d long forgotten. It was dizzying. He was almost giddy with it.

Clockwork patted him on the head, purposefully messing his hair, “yes well. I think in time, it will be more obvious just how different you truly are, how crucial every small coincidence was that came together that night to create you. But until then, you had another question? I can answer it now.”

Danny frowned as he realized what Clockwork meant, “You! I asked that question first! How did you only answer the one you wanted to!!”

“It was important,” Clockwork said, relaxing into the couch next to Danny, “to answer that question I had to be sure you knew what you were.”

He sputtered, “But I don’t?! I’m just something new! Something different!”

“Something physical that exists with the laws of the spiritual.”

“Yeah!” Danny said, “Wait, what?”

Clockwork nodded his head, “a physical entity that exists within the realms of spiritual possibility. It must be such a struggle, to deal with both sets of instincts like that.”

Danny’s head hurt, it was too much to try and understand the details of all of this. Maybe Tucker was right and he should just have let it be, learn to live with the new normal his life was now. Wasn’t that kind of what Clockwork was suggesting anyways? Then again, unlike Tucker, he did seem to thrive off of all of Danny’s questions, whether he actually answered them or not. 

“Yeah, I have to fight my more ghostly instincts all the time. It’s exhausting.” he said, leaning into Clockwork. It should have been embarrassing, seeking comfort like that, but he’d already cried into his shoulder and there wasn’t really any way to come back from that so Danny did as he pleased. 

He felt Clockwork’s hand return to his back, a solid comforting presence, “Now why would you do that?”

Danny tilted his head in confusion, “what do you mean?”

“Why would you fight against one half of yourself so thoroughly? But embrace the other side entirely?” Clockwork elaborated. “Did you think there wouldn’t be any consequences in fighting against your nature?”

“But,” Danny struggled to speak, pieces of the puzzle he’d thought hopeless putting themselves together in ways he had never expected and didn’t quite understand, “my nature is bad.”

Clockwork frowned and turned to look at Danny properly, “Daniel, it’s your nature. There is nothing good or bad about it. It is only as it is. Everything is as it’s meant to be.”

This was too much, Danny sat up fully and turned entirely towards Clockwork, “are you saying, the way I become that thing from my nightmare, is by… doing what I’ve been doing to avoid becoming that thing?!”

“Yes,” Clockwork answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

He blinked, the answer really couldn’t be that easy. “But in my dream, I, my instincts-”

Clockwork grabbed a cookie and placed it in his hands, “even humans react poorly, when they starve themselves. As you exist now, you simply need a different kind of sustenance. One you’ve been denying.”

Danny felt dread crawl down the length of his spine, “what kind of sustenance?”

“Spirits exist for reasons, and they exist differently from humans. In order to keep existing they need emotions, experiences, something to keep them held together. A spirit that has no reason to exist will simply disappear, you’ve seen such before it is relatively common after all. But you can’t do that, since you are physical in a way that they are not. You can starve yourself endlessly, into madness even if you’re desperate enough.”

“I do it to myself?” Danny asked, flustered and frustrated. It was true then? He really was his own worst enemy? 

Clockwork shook his head, “it is not inevitable Daniel. As you were, it was the most likely path forward. Yes. You would have noticed the symptoms, seen yourself losing control and then, in reaction, suppressed yourself further. Starved yourself further.”

Danny cringed, yeah, that sounded like him. “How do I stop it then? I just embrace what makes me ghostly? What about my parents? If they think they failed the resurrection, that I’m not human anymore, they’ll kill me for real! Or worse!”

“That is indeed troublesome, and the paths of the future where they know your truth are twisted and sharp, every small decision every tiny change causing a greater effect on their reactions as a whole. But you do not need to reveal yourself to your parents to live your truth.”

Relieved, Danny fell back into the couch. He hadn’t even noticed he’d floated off of it, was that good? Bad? He shook his head, this was all too confusing. “How then?” He asked, maybe this time he’d actually get a straight answer. 

Clockwork ruffled his hair and stood up, er, well, floated up and over towards the fire. “You continue doing what you’re doing with your friends, protecting your town and interacting with the truth of the world around you. And…” He turned around, “you can come visit me. It’s quite lonely in the clock tower they trapped me in, and there is much I can teach you about becoming. I had to learn such things about myself once after all.”

“You’ll let me come back? To visit you?” Danny didn’t know what to say. He could come visit, ask more questions, get more answers. It seemed too good to be true, and Danny found himself eager and excited at the prospect. 

For some reason, the entire conversation, he’d thought this would be a one time thing. That the clocktower would disappear behind him and leave any question he didn’t ask unanswered. To find out that wasn’t the case, that he had somehow, against all odds, made some kind of ghostly ally, was beyond expectations. “You’ll help me?”

The answering smile had Danny floating out of his seat, “Of course Daniel. I’ll even bake cookies.” 

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 11 - Zombies and Vampires and Werewolves, Oh My

Chapter 1     Chapter 10

“Are we ready?” Dick asked, looking to Marinette instead of looking around because ultimately, it was more a matter of whether she was comfortable and felt prepared than what they had.  He really didn’t care about the movie or the snacks. He was just ecstatic to have Marinette in his arms and without worrying about making her feel like throwing up if he touched her wrong, or at all, or even looked at her.

Marinette looked around, taking stock of their supplies in the dark room.  They had their huge bowl of popcorn, some chips, cookies she had made for them to snack on, disgusting looking cheap candy that Dick liked pushed as far away from her as it could be, she mentally thanked God she was almost completely over her morning sickness, otherwise she’d already be throwing up due to the smell alone, water, sodas, and ginger ale in the refrigerator.  They had enough supplies to feed an entire group and she recognized that, but she couldn’t stop herself from going overboard for Dick.

“I think we’re ready.” She nodded firmly. “We’re ready for an entire movie marathon if we wanted,” she chuckled self-consciously.  

Dick smiled and pulled her closer against himself. “I’m okay with that.  As long as you’re cuddled up against me and I can sneak kisses from time to time, I’ll be happy.”

She grinned up at him.  “Who says you have to sneak them?”

Dick grinned at the invitation and leaned down to give her a slow, sweet kiss.  He pulled away, gazing into her eyes affectionately and rubbing her cheek gently with his thumb.  “Are you comfortable?  Do you need another pillow?”

Marinette giggled and looked around them.  “Dick, I think we’re good.  I think if we stacked up the pillows, they’d be taller than me.”

Dick pouted.  “I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”

She cupped his face and pulled him down for a sweet, chaste kiss.  “I know. Thank you.  It means a lot.  Now, what did you choose for the movie?”

Dick looked back to the television and started navigating to the show he wanted to watch.  “I thought we could maybe watch that zombie show everyone is talking about. I keep hearing how amazing it is. They just released the entire series so we could binge on it.”  Marinette tensed in his arms.  He looked back at her apprehensively.  “Or… we could watch something else.”

She looked up at him guiltily, a frown pulling the corner of her lips down.  She started fidgeting with her fingers.  “I’m sorry. I just… zombie stories… it just brings back some… um… flashbacks?”

Dick raised an eyebrow at her. “Flashbacks?  Flashbacks to what?”

“Paris.  Akuma. One of the most effective ones we had. She turned almost everyone in Paris into one of her zombies.”  She shuddered at the memory.

He nodded and ran his hands over her arms. “Millions of zombies wandering around wanting to get you… yeah, I can see how that would be terrifying,” he soothed in an understanding voice.

She shook her head.  “It wasn’t really the zombies that were so scary, it was… have you ever seen your friends give themselves up in order to give you a few extra seconds to get away?  That’s what I see.  Not the monster coming.  My friends falling.  The look in their eyes.  The blood. The…”  She stared at her hands for a few moments before glancing back up at him with a humorless smile.  “Sorry. I just brought down the tone of the night.”

He shook his head.  “No, not at all.  We’re supposed to be getting to know each other better, right?  This is a part of you I never knew about.  I want to know.  And, I have. Seen people give themselves up to save me, I mean.  Not a mindless monster, but… yeah, I’ve had friends and family put themselves in the path of a rogue or a henchman in order to give me time to escape.  It… it makes you feel unworthy.”

She nodded along with his words.  “Undeserving.”

He nodded in agreement.  “Even knowing I would make the same choice.  I’m sorry you had to go through that.”  He pulled her in for a hug and nuzzled into her hair to comfort her.  “Any other horror movie tropes we should stay away from?”  He tried to lighten the mood.

Marinette pulled away to think about it.  “Growing up in Paris is kind of like a double edged sword when it comes to horror movies.  They aren’t really scary anymore because we’ve seen them all in real life and the movies could never match how terrifying it is in real life, when your or your friends’ or family’s lives are actually at stake.  But on the other hand, it triggers flashbacks.  

“I mean we had zombies, obviously, werewolves, vampires, chainsaw wielders, ghosts, gremlins, invisible terrors, baby killers, like, babies that killed, literal nightmares come to life, apocalypses, firestarter, that one was particularly gruesome.  I couldn’t go near any kind of flames for months.  Mermaids, not the like, kid’s movie version.  The drag you under the water to drown you kind.  We’ve had shapeshifters, water monsters, dragons, dinosaurs… I think the only horror story creature we didn’t have is Frankenstein. But evil, deranged monster only concerned about his own desires, creating amalgamated creatures to enact his psychopathic will… yeah, almost daily.”

Dick stared at her blankly for a few moments, trying to process everything she just said. “… No horror movies, ever.  Got it.”  Dick nodded absentmindedly.  “I never knew it was that bad there.  Were you ever… did you ever… I mean… I don’t know what I mean.”  There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but he didn’t know if he was ready to hear any of the answers.  He wasn’t ready to hear the suffering Marinette had gone through. She shouldn’t have had to have gone through any.

“There are so many questions that could be.  I’m going to need a bit more direction,” she chuckled mirthlessly.  “Did I ever get hurt?  Yes. Did I ever become an akuma? No.  Did I ever kill someone as an akuma?  Also no.  What did it feel like?  I don’t know. Was I the mermaid?  I wasn’t.  Did I get eaten by the dinosaur?  Eh.” She made a more or less motion with her hand.  “Did I ever date any of the heroes?  Pass.  Did I ever date any of the akumas?  Once, to distract him so Chat could get him.  Didn’t work.  Did I ever have to watch my family get hurt or killed?  So much.  Did I have to watch my friends get hurt or killed?  So often.  Did I ever die?”  She paused for a few seconds before shrugging in what she hoped was a nonchalant way. “Which one?”

Dick froze.  His chest stopped rising and falling.  He slowly licked his lips as he prepared them to form the words he didn’t want to say.  “Let’s start with have you ever died?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d miss that.  I wasn’t thinking when I said it and then couldn’t take it back.”  She looked away and took a deep breath.  “Depends on the timeline.  I don’t remember dying.  I’m pretty sure that was a different me?  Oh,” her face fell as if just remembering something.  “I guess this me died a few times too.  But I’m still here so that doesn’t count, right?”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times trying to formulate his reaction.  She had died. She was gone.  Why did everyone in his life die?  He would have never gotten the chance to meet her, to imagine their life together, their baby.  “… I’m pretty sure it does.  How… um… but…”  

“One of the ladybug miraculous’ powers is reversing the damage done by miraculous users, including deaths,” she explained calmly. “The Eifel Tower was destroyed and brought back sooo many times.”

Dick nodded at her words, not really registering them.  She had died and she was so calm about it.  He studied her more intently.  She was looking away, her body tense but trying to appear relaxed.  No, she wasn’t calm about it, she just wanted him to be calm. She didn’t want to scare him.  He took a deep breath and smiled for her, but still didn’t know what to say.  He hugged her closer instead.

She stared at the popcorn bowl for a moment and grabbed a handful, popping one of the kernels into her mouth.  “We even had a popcorn monster once.  That one was amazing though.  Like… have you ever seen the episode of Scooby Doo where the monster trapped them in a giant vat of Scooby Snacks or where the monster was a giant Cotton Candy glob?  It was like that.  Hilariously ineffective.  Everyone kind of enjoyed that one.  Alix set up a projector and put on an impromptu outside movie experience.”

She was making a joke.  She was trying to lighten the mood.  He could work with that.  “Well that,” he reached over and stole some popcorn from her, “sounds fun.  And that cure thing would be helpful.  It would certainly be useful to have here.”  She chuckled at his attempt.  “Okay, how about a comedy, or a romance, or a Disney movie?  Something happy.”

Marinette nodded.  “That sounds good.” She watched as he scrolled through the movie options. “Oooh, how about that one?  I love the Princess Bride.”

Dick smiled, “As you wish.”

She looked up at him with a curious expression, unsure if he understood the significance of the phrase.  She turned to the movie and snuggled further into his chest deciding he didn’t and that was okay.  It was still really early in their relationship.  There were things she loved about Dick and she loved being with him, but she didn’t know if she loved him.  She imagined he felt the same.  They were getting closer and she was positive they were going to get there.  Until then, she enjoyed all the time she got to spend with him.

He ran languid fingers over her arm as the movie started, enjoying the way her skin felt under his fingers, relishing that he could feel her.  That she was there warm in his arms, not laying cold and dead in a box.  He slowly moved his fingers to stroke her side and circle her hip, down along her thigh and back up, dipping across her lower back. She ran her fingers up and down his chest in response.  They slowly became firmer strokes, getting bolder and running along the hem of his shirt.

His touches slowly became more caressing and lingering, lengthening the path and getting brasher.  He grazed along her breast as his hand passed.  She swallowed heavily, pushing further into his chest and moved her leg over his, rubbing it up and down along his leg.  Their eyes were still focused on the movie, but neither was watching anymore.  They both waited for the other to be the first to break and move their supposedly innocent movie night into something more.

Dick was the first one to break when Marinette dipped her pinky just below the waistband of his pants as she traced his abs.  Not far enough to touch anything sensitive, but enough to send his mind racing and let him know she was interested in doing more than watching the movie.  He cupped her face, staring intently at her for a few seconds before diving in to kiss her. She melted into his kiss.  He moaned as her tongue slipped in to meet his. She pushed up to deepen the kiss and grant him more access to explore her body with his hands.

He pushed their stockpile of pillows out of the way and twisted them to lay her down on the couch.  Her hair splayed out on the remaining pillow and she looked up at him with half lidded eyes.  He traced the lines of her cheek and jaw, looking at her in amazement.  The light from the movie was reflecting off her hair and eyes.  She had pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she gazed up at him lustfully.  Her shirt was pulled down just enough to get a good view of her breasts and the top of her lacy bra.  Her hands were running up and down his sides and back causing shock waves of pleasure through him.  “God, you are so sexy,” he murmured almost subconsciously.  

Her lips formed a sultry smile as her hands found their way to his neck and brought him back down to her lips.  She whimpered as his lips caressed hers and his hands massaged her.  She reached down and started pulling on his shirt.  He caught her intention and ripped it off, throwing it away to the side. It landed over the television, obscuring their view of the movie neither had any intention of watching.

Chapter 12

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123

[missluthorwillseeyounow]

Part II Wed By Candlelight (The Portrait of the Secret Bride)

Supercorp The Corpse Bride AU

Kara’s dreams that night are turbulent. She could attribute it to the fact that she’d had to endure dinner with Mon-El’s mother, but it’s far worse than any nightmare even Rhea could induce.

She dreams of her lady’s brother, returning home the prodigal son. But she knows of the atrocities Lex Luthor is said to have committed, of the wife and child he had left dead in his wake -- and Kara doesn’t want him anywhere near her lady. She can see the war Lena wages between her good judgment and her good heart, can see her vacillating between her love for her brother and her own instincts.

But Kara, who has no such attachment to him, sees how he brings nothing but discord and chaos into their lives. And she’s right.

Over dinner, he announces his plan to restore the Luthor name and fortune -- by promising Lena in marriage to his new business associate, a man named Morgan Edge.

It’s the first time she’s ever seen her lady truly angry. Lena’s fury emanates from her lithe frame in cold waves as she stands from the dinner table, straight-backed and proud, facing Lex with glacial eyes that burn with pent-up rage, before she throws her glass of wine in his face.

The second they’re locked in her room, Lena grasps Kara’s arms with desperate fingers. “We need to leave.”

“Lena--”

“I can’t stay here, Kara. Not like this. Not when he intends to shackle me to a man like Morgan Edge. I met him once, and that was enough. He’s a despicable cockroach of a man. I cannot stay here and marry him, Kara. I will not.”

Kara hears the steel in her lady’s voice, and loves her for it. She opens her arms and Lena melts into her, lips touching her throat, soft words murmured against her skin. “I won’t marry anyone but you.”

Kara huffs a small laugh against Lena’s hair. “Somehow I don’t think the Bishop will approve of that.”

“I don’t care. Hang the Bishop.” Lena smiles when Kara laughs again. She pulls away slightly, just enough for Kara to see the brilliant clarity in her eyes. “And hang the Luthors. Let them rot in this miserable place. We’ll leave them here. You and I can go somewhere we can be together.”

Kara’s heart pounds like a drum, and she takes one of Lena’s hands in hers. “You’d leave your family to be with me?”

“In a heartbeat.”

Joy bubbles up in Kara’s chest, almost dispelling the heaviness that had settled there since hearing of Lex’s plans. “We could go to Kandor. My cousin lives there with his wife, they might have a place for us.”

Lena rests her temple against Kara’s, her lips brushing softly against her hair. “As long as I’m with you.”

Kara sighs, and the two of them stay that way for a long moment. It feels as if they are standing at a precipice, with the threat of Lena’s family surrounding them and the terrifying exhilaration of the unknown before them, freedom just within reach.

“I’ll leave for Kandor at dawn, to make sure Kal can make a place for us.” Kara brings Lena’s hand up to her lips, pressing a kiss to her fingers in lieu of a ring. “I will come back for you, I promise.”

And Kara somehow, somehow, knows that this is the last night she will spend with Lena.

The dream shifts, and Kara finds herself in the dark of night, the wind whipping across her face. The horse she is riding on snorts in exertion as she urges the animal as fast as it can go.

There’s a fierce desperation in the way she grips the reins. She doesn’t know where she’s going, all she knows is that it’s a matter of life and death that she get there in time.

There’s a wound on her side that burns, but she just presses on it and keeps riding. Bruises have bloomed over her knuckles. Blood dripping from her eyebrow and an accompanying wave of dizziness tells her that she also has a head wound, but she grits her teeth and forces herself to stay on her seat. Nothing is more important than getting to her destination.

“Kara, we have to stop.” A man appears in her field of vision, riding alongside her. Something in her recognizes him as Kal, her cousin. “You’re bleeding too much.”

“No!” She protests violently, her voice breaking in the whipping wind “If Lex’s men found us, that means Lex knows that Lena and I were planning to run away. He’s going after her, Kal. We have to get to her first!”

She leans forward, urging her horse faster still.

Only, she never gets to her destination, because the dream shifts again, and this time, instead of a mount, Kara finds herself sitting at a desk, in a small, unfamiliar room.

Beside her, Kal’s son, Jon is sleeping peacefully in his cradle. On the table, at her elbow, is a solitary candle, its flickering flame casting a familiar thin light on Kara’s bowed form.

“Lena.” Her voice is little more than a whispered sob. The candlelight brings back too many bittersweet memories that make Kara’s heart ache and crumble, as if it’s dying a living death inside the cavity of her chest. “Lena…”

Kara swallows back a sob and wipes away the tears that blur her vision. She’s worked with less light before, she reminds herself, as she bends over the small locket, painstakingly recording every detail she can remember. She works ceaselessly and without the need for sleep, as if it were possible to bring her lady back to life with each brush stroke.

She knows -- She knows it’s impossible to bring her back. She knows it’s impossible to capture the warmth of her smile or the soft steel of her voice in a miniature portrait, she knows, but each brush stroke feels like a penance, a way to keep her alive.

When she’s finished, Kara seals it within the necklace. A secret only she knows.

This time, Kara all but forces herself awake.

She scrambles out of bed, nearly waking Mon-El in her haste. The floor is cold under her bare feet, but she doesn’t care. She scurries out of the room and down to the foyer where she’d left her coat.

Her hand plunges into the coat pocket and she triumphantly fishes out the antique necklace her mother had left her.

The exact same necklace in her dream.

Quickly, she retrieves a knife from the kitchen and pries it open as carefully as she can. It’s a painstaking process, trying not to damage a two hundred year old piece of jewelry, but finally, Kara’s efforts pay off.

The necklace opens to reveal the portrait Kara had seen in her dream -- a faithful likeness of Lena Luthor in miniature.

For the first time, it occurs to Kara that this is the only time she’s seen Lena outside of her dreams and their encounters. This solitary portrait is proof that Lena had lived. That she had been loved.

Kara’s breath leaves her in a rush, as she slowly realizes what this is.

A lover’s final gift, her penance, handed down her family for generations, from one bride to another, with the secret bride who never was inside.

She doesn’t quite know how she feels. It’s a lot to process, and it’s truthfully been a mad whirlwind of the past few days that barely seems real. She looks down at the locket in her hand. Lena’s face smiles up at her, the painting so devotedly true to her likeness, it almost feels like she’s alive.

Well, Kara thinks. If she’s doing this, she might as well go all in. They say every bride goes crazy before the wedding, after all.

Before she can talk herself out of it, Kara grabs her coat and shoves her feet into her boots. She spares a few seconds to root around for a flashlight in the hallway closet before setting out the door.

The air is chilly as she hurries along the familiar overgrown path. Somehow it’s less tranquil and more scary walking along the trail in the middle of the night, with the wind rustling through the trees and insects chirping.  The serenity she’d felt before is gone in the oppressive darkness. In the night, everything seems much more ominous, formless shadows flitting around her, the night sounds loud in her ears. The leaves crunching under her feet feel more ominous than comforting now, and Kara finds herself jumping at every sound.

She draws her coat tighter around herself as she nears the graveyard, her flashlight illuminating a narrow beam of light that plays menacingly over the tombstones.

“Lena? Are you there?”

Kara’s voice is a tentative whisper, and she feels stupid. It’s cold, it’s the middle of the night, and she’s in a graveyard, looking for a ghost. Her steps falter, and she sighs, rubbing her arms to stave off the cold. Maybe it’s time to go home.

She turns to leave, but a familiar voice wisps in the wind behind her, making her shiver.

“You came.”

Kara whirls around to see Lena’s pale form behind her. The eerie silver radiance of her skin in the darkness makes her look otherworldly. But the dark red stains on the white of her red seem unnervingly real. Like Kara could touch the mortal wound on her abdomen and still feel the pulsing of blood within.

It reminds Kara of why she’s here.

Her fingers close around the locket around her neck, and she steps forward, closer to Lena. “I did. I… I think I can help you, Lena. I think I know what happened all those years ago.”

“What?” Lena’s voice is thin and hesitant, as though she can scarcely believe Kara’s words. “How--?”

“I see it. In my head, in my dreams every night. I see you and Kara. I’ve seen the love you had for each other, and I’ve seen -- so many things, but I need your help. I don’t have the whole story, there’s a side of it that’s missing, and it’s you.”

“I - I don’t understand, Kara.”

“What do you remember from the night you died?”

“I - I don’t… I don’t remember. So much of it is a fog in my mind...” Lena turns away from Kara, her hands flying to her temples. “It’s been so long. I’ve been waiting so long…”

Kara clutches the locket around her neck. “You have to remember. Please, Lena, remember. Because I have pieces of the puzzle, but you have the key to it. Try, please…. Look, you said you were waiting for Kara. But were you alone?”

“I… I think so. I’ve been alone for so long…”

“What about that night? That night you died?” Kara presses on, her hands coming up, wanting to take Lena’s arms, but she knows that there’s no body there to touch, so she lowers her hand. “You said the place where you were waiting wasn’t a graveyard then. What was it?”

“I - no, it wasn’t, I --” Lena’s voice is becoming higher, panicked and confused. Her beautiful face is lost and frightened. “I don’t know!”

Kara knows she’s pushing too far, and her instinct to comfort and soothe comes to the fore. She reaches out to touch Lena, and before she can remember that Lena is dead -- has been dead for two hundred years -- her hand comes up to touch her shoulder.

She touches nothing, but for a second -- less than a heartbeat -- her fingers meet resistance at the curve of Lena’s shoulder when there should only be empty air.

In that instant, everything changes. A shock comes through the end of Kara’s fingertips, and all at once everything turns white.

As the light blinds her, Kara hears voices in her ear. “Lex is watching, and the trip to Kandor is five days long. I can’t risk you leaving until I know there’s a safe place for us there. I promise you, Lena, I will come back for you.”

An unfamiliar voice. This time, a woman’s. “Lex has informed me that Morgan Edge is arriving tomorrow. This wedding must proceed smoothly, Lena. This is what you and I have been working for your whole life. What have I always told you? Everything I do, I do for you and our family…. We are so close, my dear. Everything we have lost will be restored to us. The Luthor name shall be revered once more, and we can become a family again.”

When the blinding light fades, Kara finds herself in the same old room in Luthor Manor where she and Lena slept. Except the sanctity of the tiny dark room has been violated by another.

Lena is dressed in immaculate white lace, flowers at her breast and in her hair. She looks beautiful and terrible at the same time.

Lex has her by the arm, his face a cold snarl above her as he holds up one of the wine glasses from the dinner table. His hand is wrapped around Lena’s forearm, and Kara rushes forward to rip him off of her, but there’s no use. Her hand passes through Lex, and he continues to sneer menacingly at Lena.

“You’ve never been poisoned before, have you, little sister? Well, I have. Arsenic has a very mild odor.” He holds up the glass to her face before throwing it across the room. Lena stiffens, but she doesn’t flinch. “Usually, one would never recognize it, but I know because my bitch of a wife put it in my drink the night she left me, sneaking off like a frightened little rat, just like you were planning to.”

Lex bares his teeth. “You women, you’re all fools. None more than you, baby sister. You couldn’t even think of a different plan.”

“I did.”

Lena’s free hand subtly disappears within the folds of her dress. As Kara watches, she silently withdraws a knife hidden within her dress and swiftly stabs it into Lex’s side. Lex yells in pain and his eyes widen as Lena twists the handle and pulls the knife out for good measure.

Lex groans as Lena pushes him off of her and leaves him lying on the ground. She gives him one last look, her eyes full of pain and cold anger. “Good bye, Lex.”

Without another backwards glance, Lena draws her cloak around her shoulders and all but flies to the stables. Her horse is there, ready and saddled, and she rides swiftly away from Luthor Manor.

Kara recognizes the path she takes. It’s the same path she’s taken away from the Inze house, the one that leads to the graveyard, and at once, her stomach is filled with dread. She wants to scream at Lena to take a different road, but Lena can’t hear her.

The dread worsens into full panic when she hears hoof beats growing louder and louder near them. She sees the same terror in Lena’s eyes when another horse cuts her path, and the mare she’s riding on rears up in fright.

“Lena!” Kara screams as Lena is thrown off the horse, her head hitting the ground hard. But Lena can’t hear her. She moans feebly on the ground, the back of her head covered in blood. She hangs onto her consciousness, and Kara watches fearfully as Lena tries valiantly to get up.

Behind her, Lex dismounts from his horse, his entire right side blooming red with blood from Lena’s knife. He advances toward her, hand on his side, and Lena stumbles, pulling herself away from him on her arms.

Kara frantically tries what she can to help, even though she knows it’s useless. Her hands can’t pull Lena up or beat Lex away as he drops onto one knee beside her struggling form. A glint of a blade is the only warning Kara gets before the blade Lena had used to stab Lex drives into her body now, and all of Lena’s breath comes out in a choked scream.

“You couldn’t just do what I asked, could you, Lena? Everything would have been perfect, little sister. Our fortunes restored, the Luthor name once again redeemed and exalted, and you would have been set for life.” Lex hisses in her face, flecks of his blood spitting from his mouth to her cheek. “But you had to go and spread your legs for some servant girl like a filthy whore!”

Lena closes her eyes, tears trickling down her face, and Lex laughs mirthlessly at her, voice lowering to a dangerous mutter.

“And where is she now, Lena? Where is your faithful Kara? She never came back for you, did she? You’re about to die, little sister. You’re going to bleed out in this godforsaken road, and she’s not here. You’re all alone.”

Kara screams at him, beats her ineffectual fists at him as he struggles to his feet, away from Lena, dropping her body on the side of the road. Kara drops to her knees beside her fading form, frantically trying to place her hands on her abdomen, as if she could close the wound herself. “Lena…. Lena….”

Her hands can do nothing. Unlike before, there is no resistance when she tries to touch Lena, her hands simply grasp thin air, even though the jagged wound on Lena’s stomach is terrifyingly real. Lena chokes on blood and air, and she can’t see Kara’s pleading face as she mouths her last word.

“Kara…”

All at once, the light blinds Kara again, and she’s wrenched away from Lena. She screams and tries to reach out, but to no avail.

When the light fades, she finds herself in the woods again, this time astride a horse, with Kal by her side. 

She spies the limping form of Lex Luthor between the trees, blood trailing behind him, and she feels white-hot rage surge through her veins. She dismounts from her horse and lunges at him, dragging his broken body forward.

“Kara!” Kal’s voice tries to stop her, but Kara is beyond all reason.

She fists her hands into his bloodied collar and shakes him. “Where’s Lena??”

Vaguely, Kara realizes that she’s no longer seeing Lena’s memories, but Kara’s. The realization is lost when Lex laughs, and she wants to tear the smile from his face.

“You're too late.” Lex sneers, blood and spittle flying from his mouth, his face contorted in a terrible smile. “She’s dead.”

Kara finally screams her rage in his face. “You’re lying!! Where is she??!”

Lex doesn’t answer, just laughs and laughs. She wants to kill him, she could so easily finish the job, but she has to find Lena first. 

She leaves Lex with Kal, and follows the trail of blood, her stomach turning and her heart pounding in her throat. From a distance, Kara can see where the trail ends, to a pool of blood and a lifeless figure dressed in white.

She screams. And screams.

It feels never-ending.

Everything shifts again, and Kara weeps against it, wanting this to end.

It doesn’t.

When everything rights itself again, Kara is standing in front of the old Luthor Manor. It’s in terrible condition, the west wing has caved in. Its shutters are broken and its windows empty. Like the family it served, it is dead now.

“There’s nothing left here, Kara.” Kal tells her “We should go. There’s nothing for you here.”

Kara shakes her head, resolute. “Not yet. I have a promise to keep.”

Their room is in disrepair. The bed they shared their love on is lifeless and broken, just like her lady. Kara grips the dusty sheets, tears slipping silently down her face. She would howl her grief out if she could. If she could, she would scream and yell and rage for the woman she loved and lost. 

But she can’t. Her grief is too far beyond that.

So instead she drops the sheets and bends down to retrieve her oils and paints from their hiding spot in the floor. Nothing else in this room is retrievable, but this -- the last gift Lena gave to her -- is sacred.

That night, with great effort, she lifts the brush again. She can’t paint Lena’s face anymore. It hurts too much. That wound will never heal, but she can seal it within the necklace and place it above her heart.

Instead, Kara paints everything and anything else. She lets the brushes guide her, instead of her guiding them.

For a long time, she paints only in blacks of night and reds of blood and browns of earth covering the dead. She paints in slashes and heavy strokes that demand the weight of grief. 

Sometimes the brush becomes too heavy in her hand, and she yearns to put it down, but Kara made a promise, and she is the only one left to keep it for -- herself, and the memory of a dead girl -- so she persists.

And then one day, baby Jon comes toddling into her room, burbling nonsensically around the fist in his mouth. 

He waddles unsteadily toward her, tripping into her dress. She catches him with a small oof! And he laughs as a streak of paint smears his cheek. His hand splatters into her paints and he smears them over Kara too, making her chuckle. 

They make a little game out of it, smearing paint all over each other, and Kara opens the brighter colors that catch his eye. Soon, both Kara and baby are smeared with greens and yellows and blues and pinks. She opens the colors that had been Lena’s favorites, and she lets Jon smear them onto her face.

She’s just teaching the baby how to mix paints to get orange when Lois catches them red-handed in the middle of their mess.

But instead of scolding them, Lois sees the first smile Kara has cracked in months and she shakes her head at both of them, chuckling, and marches them both off to get a bath.

And so Kara heals. 

Slowly, and in small steps forward and many falls backward. But she learns to live again. She learns to build her life around the cavern in her heart.

Lois gives one of her paintings to her sister Lucy as a gift, and it hangs in Lucy’s sitting room for a while, until one of her guests, an illustrious and irrepressible widow named Lady Grant, sees the painting and offers to purchase it from Lucy on the spot.

Lady Grant proceeds to commission an entire series of paintings from Kara, and Kara rapidly acquires more patrons who marvel at her paintings, and praise her on the depth and emotion behind her work. 

“One cannot help but be moved by them, by you, Kara.” Lady Grant tells her once in a rare moment of candid compassion.

Through it all, she never forgets her promise.

When, years later, she stands underneath an arch of white flowers -- plumerias, her lady's favorite -- Lois asks what her “something borrowed” is for the wedding, Kara doesn’t answer her. 

Instead, Kara silently answers the woman in the portrait, sitting hidden in the necklace above her heart.

“My heart. It will never be owned by another, merely borrowed. He may become my husband, but my heart will always, always belong to you, Lena.”

______________

“Kara… Kara, wake up.”

Kara opens her eyes to see Lena’s face hovering over hers. The ground is cold and hard underneath her, sprinkled lightly with dew. Kara blinks rapidly a few times. It’s morning now, still early if the light is anything to go by, and the first rays of the sun are just brightening the horizon.

“Kara…” Lena’s eyes are relieved as she sits up, but her voice still holds a touch of concern. Her fingers hover lightly over Kara’s shoulder, touching but not quite touching. “Are you alright?”

“Do you… Do you remember now?”

Lena looks away from her, her eyes downcast and pained. Her voice breaks on a single word “Yes, I remember. I died on this road, and Kara, she never came. I was alone.”

“No.” Kara surges forward, ducking her head to get Lena to meet her eyes. “She came back for you. She… she may have been too late, but she came back. She never forgot you, Lena, not for the rest of her life. And she never forgot her promise.”

Lena finally meets her gaze, her eyes full of sorrow and hope long held back.

“Come with me. Let me show you.”

The path feels long and full of the things Kara knows now, but she and Lena walk through it side by side. Kara wishes she could hold Lena’s hand, but she settles for letting her fingers brush the outline of Lena’s.

She takes Lena back to her ancestral home, and opens the doors for her. The morning sun is just high enough now for the light to filter beautifully through the vast windows, painting the rooms with warmth. 

“She made this home for you, Lena.” Kara turns to the other woman, who finally steps through the threshold with a look of wonder in her eyes. “All those years ago, Kara promised you she would build you a house filled with light and warmth, and she did. She built it from the ruins of the house where you first shared your love, and she’s kept it for you all these years.... All the women in my family -- every daughter that passed through these halls, every bride that said their vows here, all the way down to my Mother who was married here and left this place to me -- every single one has kept it.... And it was all for you.”

Kara takes the locket on her chest and opens it to show Lena the portrait her Kara made of her. “She kept you in her heart until she was ready to give you to her daughter at her wedding day. She was never able to be with you, but don’t you see...? Every time this necklace passed from one bride in this family to the next, she gave you her vows and she kept you alive.”

A strange sense of peace washes through Kara as she leads Lena through the halls of her family’s home. Lena’s home.

Lena touches the walls of the house, the flowers adorning the staircase, with reverent hands. There are tears on her face, but she is smiling as steps into the light filtering through the windows. She closes her eyes and turns her face to the light, as if she can feel its warmth. Kara stands next to her, feeling her heart fill at the sight of Lena in the home she was promised.

“Your brother cursed you with his last words when he made you believe she would never come back. That you were all alone. He kept you bound to your sadness for so long, but Lena…. your Kara loved you so much that her love for you spanned generations. You don’t have to let his words keep you bound. You can choose to be free.”

Lena’s eyes open slowly, and as Kara watches, her face becomes radiant, awash with blinding love and emotion.

“I…… I see her. I see Kara.” Lena’s reverent voice breaks into a breathless sob. “She says she’s been waiting for me.” 

Lena turns back to her one last time, tears of joy shining in her eyes, and Kara knows she will never see her again. “Thank you.”

For a long moment, Lena glows so brightly that the light blinds Kara’s eyes. By the time her eyes open, the light is gone. 

And so is Lena.

Kara stands quietly in the middle of the room and takes a long inhale. The melancholia of the past few days is gone. Even the anxiety of the last few weeks seems to have fallen off her shoulders. Instead, she just feels a lightness in her whole body, and a clarity of thought she hasn’t known in a long time.

“Kara?” Alex’s voice comes from behind her, concerned, and Kara turns slowly to face her. “Are you okay?”

Kara huffs a small laugh and beams at her. “Yeah, I really am.”

Alex moves to stand beside her. She’s still in her pajamas, and there’s a quiet sort of hesitation in the way she approaches Kara, all sisterly concern. 

Kara smiles warmly at her and offers her hand. Alex takes it and they both look out the vast windows.

“I can’t go through with this wedding, Alex.”

Her sister turns toward her, studying her with a protective eye. When all she sees on Kara’s face is contentment and a tranquil sense of calm, Alex nods. “I know.”

“You do?”

“I could kinda tell.” Alex shrugs and gives her a knowing look. “You’re my sister, I know you. I was just waiting for you to tell me.”

“Does Eliza know?”

“Knowing her, she probably does.”

“Well, then.” Kara inhales long and deep. “I guess the only one left to tell is Mon-El.”

“Why am I not surprised that your groom is the last to know that he’s not gonna be a groom after all?”

________

By SorrowsFlower

This was so fucking hard to write (I actually had most of it written up but it was hard to join them all up together, but it JUST WOULD NOT LEAVE ME ALONE). There is an epilogue of sorts to this, but I think y’all can probably see it coming, so I might as well not write it lol.

[archipelagolago]

There’s a World Between Earth and Sky

Tonight, the breeze is a light shudder over Steve’s bare arms.

He’s sitting on the floor in front of his sliding back door.

The door is open to about the width of his shoulders; wide enough to breathe the outside air, narrow enough to be closed quickly.

The sunset is gorgeous. Truly dreamlike in its beauty. Soft pinks and vibrant oranges fading to quiet purples and deep blues in one direction, to bright, blinding, yellow in the other.

It’s not red tonight. Steve couldn’t be here, looking, if it was red tonight. Couldn’t see it without facing flashes of bloody nails, dark-veined blue eyes, doomsday skies.

So, it’s not red tonight.

But the shadows are there. On the edge of the tree line. Cast over chlorinated water by a diving board.

Even so, Steve can be here. Because the gap left by the open door is narrow enough to be slammed shut in less than a second. And Steve’s bat is resting against the wall, easy to reach. And, most importantly, Billy is in the house.

Billy’s sleeping on the living room couch. Protected by two fluffy blankets. Living. Breathing. In this dimension.

He sleeps a lot, these days. Is usually curled up on that couch when Steve gets home from work. Billy hasn’t been medically cleared to start working again yet. So, he mostly sleeps during the day, isn’t quite able to shut his eyes to the night.

Steve wishes it wasn’t like that. Hopes the night feels less like dying, for Billy, soon. Although, admittedly, Steve takes comfort in knowing someone’s keeping watch on him as he sleeps.

The sunset is getting less yellow now, more pink and purple. Soon it will all fade to vast, dominating, blues.

A dog barks off in the distance. Steve watches a squirrel twitch its tail, run away up a tree.

Steve likes these sounds, dogs barking, squirrels scurrying. They’re safe, but, nothing compared to his current favorite sound, the rustle of blankets and squeak of the couch as Billy shifts into consciousness.

Steve’s lips rise in a soft smile, soft like the pink of the sunset. He hears Billy grunt before the couch squeaks again and his feet can be heard finding the floorboards. The wood groans as Billy shifts his full weight onto it, standing. The scuffing of socks brushing over the floor makes way over to Steve.

The footsteps stop in the doorway.

“Good morning, baby,” Steve calls, keeping his eyes on the sunset.

Billy yawns, shuffles over to sit next to Steve. He shakes out his arms before shifting onto his side and laying his head onto Steve’s crossed legs.

He’s brought one of the blankets with him, has it draped over his shoulders and covering him down to his feet.

Steve sets his right hand over Billy’s heart, feels his own fill with a molten kind of love when Billy’s hand moves up to cover Steve’s.

Steve’s left hand travels to Billy’s hair, stroking the tangled curls in his lap.

This means safety. Means comfort unmatched. Is the first time, all day, Steve can honestly say the sense of impending doom is silenced.

“Sunset’s good today?” Billy asks in a whisper.

Steve senses the soft pink between his ribs grow crawling up to his armpits. He feels some of the tension in his shoulders melt as the color starts to glow.

“The sunset’s amazing today,” Steve responds, with a pleased sigh.

Billy gifts a kiss to Steve’s ankle.

“Tell me 'bout work,” he instructs.

In the back of Steve’s throat, something joins the sunset pink.

“Was pretty average. Nothing special. Except, actually, El and Will came in today. Robin convinced them to rent, uh, the… 'Rocket Horror Movie’? I think?”

The texture of Billy’s hair is a quiet purple beneath Steve’s fingers.

Billy rolls onto his back, frowns up at Steve, “Huh?”

“Uh, or maybe it was, 'The Rocking Horror Show’? Something like that. Don’t think it’s a new release,” Steve tries to explain.

Billy’s eyes light up, a grin spreads over his face, “The Rocky Horror Picture Show?”

Steve’s left pointer finger tap-tap-taps against a floorboard, “Yeah! That’s the one,” he exclaims, relieved to have it remembered.

Billy’s eyebrows raise, grin deepens, “Really? No way?”

“Rob said it wouldn’t be too scary for the kids,” Steve says, starting, now, to doubt her claim.

Billy frees up a laugh at that. His amusement has him vibrating against Steve’s thighs; Steve thinks, this must be what it’s like to feel at home.

“So you’ve never seen Rocky Horror?” Billy asks after settling down.

“No,” Steve answers, “s'it bad?”

Billy huffs out a quiet chuckle, shakes his head. He’s looking at Steve so tenderly, like Steve is the force that keeps his heart beating.

“What’s so funny about it then?” Steve demands, tone shifting to a whine.

Billy’s lips twitch in the way they do when he’s trying to hide a smile.

“We’ll rent it once your kids return it. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Steve groans, “Biilllyy, you know I hate waiting!”

“Yup,” Billy says, popping the 'p’ and rolling his eyes.

He reaches up and brings Steve’s head down, traps him in a vibrant orange kiss.

Steve might cry, he would if he still remembered how to. He’s safe. This is home. This is home.

Billy pulls back. His eyes are watering. He’s happy. Steve can tell by the way he scrunches his nose, squeezes Steve’s hand.

“Whenever I sit here with you, looking out at the sunset, I think, it’s the day kissing the night awake,” Billy says.

Steve smiles down at Billy in gentle purple. He moves the hand that isn’t clutching Billy’s own, back to his lover’s hair. Let’s his fingers glide over it.

“Reminds me of you,” Billy clarifies, closing his eyes.

Steve hums in question.

Billy continues, “You do the same. Kiss me awake at night,” he rubs his head up and down over Steve’s thigh, wraps an arm around his waist, “You’re my sunset.”

And Steve’s glowing now. Taken over by all the colors of the sunset.

Steve’s not good at crying. Hasn’t felt tears on his face in… he doesn’t know how long. Billy, though, is good at crying. He tears up practically any time he’s struck by emotion.

Sometimes, like now, Steve wishes he knew how to release the suffocating hold he’s had choking his emotions since he first realized his parents didn’t love him back. He wishes he could let go of control, drop the façade, even for just a few seconds.

Because he’s safe, here, with Billy, in this dimension. He knows nothing bad would come of displaying his emotions. He’s safe. He’s loved. He’s home.

But, years of suppressing his emotions. Burying his feelings. Hiding behind a mask. They don’t just disappear. He can’t just reset.

So it’s still hard for him. To express his own emotions outside of responding to those of others. Because, he can be angry in response to someone else’s rage, can be sad in response to someone else’s despair, can be affectionate in response to someone else’s care. But, he can’t quite seem to feel like a human on his own. Can’t seem to say anything serious with his eyes open, or kiss Billy first, couldn’t respond to Nancy’s grief while simultaneously burying his own terror, guilt, confusion.

It’s okay, though. Because Billy knows. Billy knows how to love him and how to listen to him and how to see him. Because he’s made a point of learning to understand Steve. Because he cares. Because he loves Steve back.

So, when all Steve can do is close his eyes and whisper, “I love you,” Billy knows he means it. Even though, right now, Steve can just tell and not entirely show.

So, when Billy twists, kisses Steve’s stomach, presses his face up against him, Steve knows he means, 'I love you too.“ Even though, right now, he can’t entirely tell, just show.

And when Steve keeps stroking Billy’s hair, not only in response to Billy setting his head on Steve’s lap, it’s progress.

The sun is fully set by now. Soft pinks and quiet purples overtaken by vast blues. And it’s okay. It’s still beautiful. The stars are glowing brighter now. If you look closely, maybe squint, you’ll see the clouds building abstract patterns in the shifting blue.

Steve looks down at Billy, now. Squeezes his hand and says, "I should get started on dinner.”

Before Billy can groan he adds, “And. I uh, I know that you’re nauseous, and it hurts. But. Can you try today? At least have some smoothie, for me?”

Billy sighs, narrows his eyes at Steve, “That’s not fair, you know. Making it 'for you’. Can’t do that when you know I’d do anything for ya.”

Steve isn’t sure how to reply to that. It’s true. But. Things are complicated for both of them right now. Nothing feels, just, simple.

“Seriously, sunset,” Billy emphasizes.

Steve takes a deep breath, “Ok. You’re right. It’s unfair to guilt you like that. I just don’t know what to do sometimes. I just want to keep you safe. For always.”

Billy groans, shakes his head, but smiles too, “Can’t always be here ta keep me safe from everything, Stevie. Sometimes, some things, are just always going to be bad. But. I’ll try to try your smoothie. S'long as it’s blueberry.”

Billy’s right. Again. Sometimes bad things stay bad. But, they live among good things, too. And sometimes, good things are just good– no catch. Reality is complex. Multifaceted. Too jumbled up to be just good/bad. Too chaotic to read within the lines. Meaning, the universe holds its breath. Meaning, the universe exhales in time.

And, so. When Steve helps Billy up from the floor, closes the door. When Billy walks behind Steve with his arms wrapped around his lover’s waist, whispering, “we’ll take it slow, sunset.” When the two walk into the kitchen swaying, dancing (slow). The sky meets the Earth, and the view is neither one, nor the other. The Earth meets the sky, and the view is, maybe, both. 🌇

[izloveshorses]

country boy i love u

modern au, 1.7k, not to be dramatic but all of my training has prepared me for city boy dmitry and weird horse girl anya so buckle up

Dmitry wasn’t good with animals.

Or dirt. Though, dirt was something he was more familiar with, living in the city streets and all. But animals? Especially big animals? Terrifying. Unpredictable. Not recommended. 

You could imagine his delight when, after another arrest, he was placed at a horse farm out in the middle of nowhere to fulfill his community service hours. 

He couldn’t figure out why they needed his help. The breeding farm seemed to be pretty efficient, considering how nice and clean the barn was with its crisp white fences, loads of stablehands running around, the lawn an unnaturally bright shade of green. The manager hardly seemed to know what to do with him either when he showed up bright and early every day, too busy to really show him how to do whatever he was told to do. She just handed him a rake and a shovel and tossed him into a smelly stall and left. Or stuck him in front of a wheel-barrow and point him in a vague direction. Sometimes he was tasked with mechanical repairs of some of the equipment, which he was more comfortable with, but usually… he was thrown right into the path of some scary animals. And people. 

The family who owned the place were pretty wealthy, clearly. The kids were obviously spoiled rotten, expecting their horses to be saddled and ready before their rides, not taking the responsibility for grooming afterwards, leaving a mess of tack in the aisle for him to clean up. He hadn’t really interacted with them much but could feel their judgemental stares burning a hole in the back of his head. Here he was, the exotic, dangerous, explosive disaster, who would never amount to anything more than a screw-up. Come look.

He wished he was in jail instead.

Today he was neck deep in mucking stalls, eyes watering as he shoveled through a particularly nasty one, hating every second and hating his father for dying and leaving him on this bottomless path and hating everyone who put him here, when he felt a tickle at the top of his head. When he looked up he jumped out of his skin— a horse in the next stall had reached its head over and started sniffing him. But, more particularly, there was a giggle.

“She likes you,” the voice said. 

He spun towards the door to see a girl leaning against the railing. The youngest daughter, he’d gathered. She was the only one he’d ever really interacted with and it didn’t go well— she’d snapped at him not to light a cigarette in a barn and maybe he was a tad annoyed that his one reprieve of this god-forsaken place was literally snuffed out. He’d been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t heard her approach. “I don’t think I even knew it was here.”

“Clearly.” She slid the door open. “You were talking to yourself and she was curious.”

He frowned. “Or she wanted to bite my head off.”

Another laugh. “No! Luna’s a big softy. Come here.”

“Oh, I’m good.” He waved the handle of his shovel. “I’m serving my community.”

She rolled her eyes. “You can take a break for one second. Or are you too scared?”

“I’m not—” she quirked a brow and he swallowed. “... scared.”

“Come on,” she grabbed his wrist and tugged him out of the stall and he was immediately relieved by the lack of smell. “I’ll show you.” Two steps over to the left and she was opening the occupied stall door and stepping inside. He slowly came closer to the railing, watching. Despite her small size the girl approached this half-ton animal like it was a bumble bee, cooing all the way, hands moving over the gray coat with confidence and familiarity. Now that he could see the horse in its entirety he noticed the belly was… swollen? Was it supposed to be that round?

“She’s gonna drop her foal any day now,” the girl said, answering his unspoken question. “That’s why she’s in here in the middle of the afternoon instead of the pasture.”

He nodded, still watching the animal with caution. 

“You can come in if you want,” the girl said casually. “You’ve been here for weeks now, surely you’ve gained some confidence by this point.”

“Actually, this is the closest I’ve been to one.”

“Really?” She stepped closer to him, the wall of the stall separating them, and she pointed at the animal’s head. “Okay, see her ears? They’re facing the side, which means she’s relaxed. If she was as grumpy as you,” she stepped back to the horse and pinned the ears flat against its neck with her hands, “they’d look like this.”

She released the ears and the horse shook its head indignantly. He allowed himself a small smile. 

“And her head is hanging low, and her back leg is resting. That means she’s totally chill and the chances of her wanting to bite your head off are slim.”

He met her eyes again, startlingly blue. Why was she so intent on getting him near her? But she did make a point, when he thought about it. “Okay.”

She grinned and pulled the stall door open a little wider. He stepped through, straw crunching under his ruined sneakers, and closed the door behind him, still keeping his distance. The large eyes were curious but sleepy, so maybe it wasn’t so bad. 

“Wanna touch her?”

He glanced down at his hands. His knuckles were still bruised from his last fight, a white scrape scarring his palm, and he saw nothing but danger. Tools of mistakes.

But a smaller hand circled his wrist and pulled him nearer, laying his palm gently onto the soft hair on the base of its neck. He blinked down and met her gaze before glancing away again. When nothing bad happened he stroked lightly for a few minutes over the hair and strong muscles. 

“Wanna see something cool?” The girl asked. He nodded and she took his hand again, letting it glide all the way over the animal’s rib cage and to the swollen part of its stomach. “You feel it?” He frowned, unsure of what she was asking, when he felt it and gasped. A small tap against his palm. The baby had kicked. He met her eyes and grinned, the first genuine smile of his in months. 

“Okay,” he admitted, “that was cool.”

“Isn’t it!”

The horse sneezed and he yanked himself back. When he was sure there were no signs of danger he returned to his spot, a little embarrassed by his own reflexes.

“You’re kinda jumpy.”

“You get jumpy when you live the way I’ve lived,” he snapped before he could think about it. 

The next minute was too quiet for his taste. Maybe he’d already ruined it. She stepped away and he almost panicked when she walked out of the stall. “Wait, where are you—”

“Relax, I’m just getting something.” She pulled a couple of brushes out of a basket and held them up for emphasis. “Since we’re in here.” He dropped his shoulders. When she came back inside she shoved his hand into a brush. “Serve your community.” He snorted and nodded, but he still must’ve looked confused because she placed her hand over his again, guiding it, and he could only focus on the coolness from the hard brush under his palm contrasting with the warmth from where she met his skin. “Brush in the direction her hair is growing.” 

When he made a few strokes on his own she nodded, passing a test, and left him while she worked on the other side. He tried to imitate her long and confident strokes, watching the hair and dirt float in the air. He cleared his throat. “I don’t see you in here very often.”

“I’m in the barn a lot more than you think.”

“Really?”

She pointed to the hayloft above the stalls across from them. “Up there, usually. It’s a good reading spot.” Like he’d know a good reading spot from a bad one. “Or outside in the sun. Or riding. Or in here. It’s just… a good place to think.”

“Hmm.” He wanted to scoff and ask what a girl like her had to think about that required this kind of quiet, but her voice sounded genuine, and she’d been so kind to him. Nothing like their first meeting, he thought. They certainly hadn’t started off on the right foot, and she must’ve wanted to make amends. He wondered what changed. “Why are you helping me?”

For a moment it was just the sound of bristles. And then, “Everyone deserves a chance.”

Well, that was a loaded answer. At least she didn’t say she pitied him. “The only thing I seem to be good at lately is messing up every chance I get, so,” he laughed bitterly. “Steer clear.”

“Well,” she circled around to his side of the horse holding out her hand for him to place his brush, “you haven’t messed this up yet.”

He ducked his head. Her eyes were too bright, too curious, too understanding for him to look at. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

“Learning is a good start. See?” He hadn’t realized his hand was resting on the horse’s shoulder until she pointed it out. “It’s already making a difference. Maybe I can show you the ropes around here.”

His back straightened, smelling a challenge. It wasn’t like he had anything to prove— he’d lived enough years on his own now to know he was tough enough— but maybe he’d met his match when it came to having a competitive streak. What did he have to lose? The car he slept in? His fabulously decorated permanent record? “I’d probably just slow you down.”

She stepped even closer. “Or you could learn to keep up.”

He raised a brow, finally letting a grin spread over his face. When he nodded once she mirrored his expression. Then she backed away, leaving him in the stall. “See you around, city boy.”

He watched her until she was out of sight, a smile lingering on his lips. Okay, maybe jail was overrated. 

[writings-of-a-daphodil]

Fire Keeper: Chapter 15

Douxie x fem reader

Chapter 1

Masterlist in bio!

Series Summary: You are Jim’s older sister who is taking a break from college and has moved back home to Arcadia. You end up joining Jim and his friends on their adventures.

Chapter 15 summary: Just as you and Douxie get back to Arcadia the Eternal Night begins. 

You stroked Archie as Douxie drove the three of you back to Arcadia. It had been a pretty silent drive with you drifting in and out of sleep, but you were awake now and you and Douxie were singing along to some music you were playing via your phone.

It was a lot of fun and it made you even happier to see Douxie smiling again. You looked back out the window before he could catch you staring.

A new song came on and you began to sing, but your phone ringing cut you off. You unplugged the aux cord and answered it.

“Hey, mom. We just got back. We’re almost in Arcadia.”

“Y/n, something happened, can you come to the school?” She asked, her voice filled with urgency.

“Um, yeah. I’ll be right there.” You hung up and looked to Douxie. “That was my mom, something happened.”

“I can drop you off and then you can pick up your car tomorrow?” Douxie suggested and you nodded.

The two of you continued singing, but you were distracted by your thoughts. Your brain had decided to conjure up thoughts of all the worst possible scenarios.

Thankfully you didn’t have to suffer through the scenarios as you arrived at the school. You hopped out of the car and thanked Douxie.

You immediately sensed auras on the roof and while they all seemed relatively calm and a little anxious, you didn’t sense Jim’s.

You decided to forgo the stairs and you flew yourself up to the roof. You arrived to see everyone but Jim. Even Merlin was there, but you didn’t see your brother. However, you did see a troll in the eclipse armor. You stared wide-eyed at him and dove into his aura. If you peeled back a few layers you found your brothers.

“Jim?” You asked, alerting everyone to your arrival.

“Hey Y/n,” he greeted, smiling nervously.

“Are you okay?” You asked, concern for your little brother consuming you.

“Kinda,” he admitted and you ran over to hug him. Tears pricked your eyes when you realized how much taller he was now.

“What happened?” You asked as you pulled away from him, but you still held his hand.

“I needed to become stronger and Merlin did this.” He gestured to himself.

“But you were already great,” you whispered. You could sense the pain and fear and Jim’s aura and it made your tears run faster. The best word to describe your mood was ‘furious’ and the cause of your anger was Merlin.

You had been home for about three seconds and you were already ready to fight the old man. You were only holding back because you didn’t want to start something or upset Jim.

“Ah so this is the Trollhunter’s sister?” Merlin asked and you were seriously ready to throw hands. You had really expected Merlin to be cooler from what Douxie described.

You scowled. “I am, and not only that, I’m a sorceress.”

“Really?” Merlin asked, interest showing on his face.

“Yes, and what were you thinking? How could you do this to him?” You asked.

“I didn’t do anything. It was his choice, I just created the means. In the end you will thank me.”

You decided to be mature and ignore Merlin. It was the best way to calm down. It also helped when you remembered that Merlin was able to see the future. Maybe Jim becoming a half-troll was a good thing?

You turned to Jim. “Don’t worry Jimbo, you still have your looks,” you joked trying to make light of the situation.

He chuckled. “Thanks.”

You looked at the rest of the group and you noticed Strickler standing very close to your mom. You decided to be mature and read their auras before attacking Strickler and you were presently surprised to sense forgiveness in your moms aura and caring in Strickler’s. Maybe he wasn’t that bad.

You put on a small smile. “Why don’t we walk home and you explain everything that's been going on this past week to me.”

“There’s something you should know about our trip to find Merlin,” Jim said once you all had gotten down from the roof.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, sensing the sad shift in everyone’s auras.

Jim looked down. “Draal didn’t make it. H-he died back when we were getting Merlin’s staff. Draal took a dagger for me, Angor Rot killed him.”

You looked at the rest of the group and saw sadness shining in your eyes. You began to cry again and Jim hugged you. “I-I can’t believe it,” you sobbed.

“I know I’m sorry. But we are going to avenge him,” Jim promised. You sniffed, looking up at him. He was so grown up now and you were incredibly proud.

You took a deep breath. “I know we will.”

~~~~

Last night as all of you walked home the group recounted the events of the last week to you and you had to admit a lot had happened. Now it was time to defeat Morgana and Gunmar.

That morning you had gone over the plan and you had to say, while you were nervous and scared, but you were excited to end this. It would all be over soon and hopefully your brother and Merlin would come out victorious.

And while they did that, you were on crowd control with Douxie. You wouldn’t have regular civilians dying, not if you had something to say about it.

You stood on the sidelines with Douxie watching Aja and Krel play their music. The crowd seemed very excited for Krel’s DJ-ing, but you were a ball of nerves. Claire was supposed to arrive soon and tell everyone to go and find someplace safe.

You bit your lip as Señior Uhl announced Mama Skull and Claire walked onto the stage in her armor.

You barely listened to her speech, but you could tell nobody was understanding how much danger they were in. That is until the sky darkened and gumm-gumms appeared.

You tried to call everyone to you, but they just panicked. Unsure of what to do, you and Douxie just began to fight. The less gumm-gumms there were the less chance of people dying, right?

You summoned your sword and immediately sliced through one as you sent a magic blast at another. You heard someone scream on stage and you and Douxie ran over there. You noticed he didn’t have a weapon and you wondered what he was going to be able to do with just a guitar.

Apparently he could do a lot. He hit a gumm-gumm that was terrorizing Mary and Darci over the head, knocking it out cold.

“I've always hated those twits!” he grumbled. You went over to finish the job while he helped Mary and Darci.

You walked back over to Douxie who Mary and Darci were swooning over and you rolled your eyes. “Come on Romeo, we need to get these people to safety.”

“Alright, Ladies follow us.” Douxie took off and you followed him.

“Where should we take them?” You asked. “We need some place big enough to fit a ton of people.”

“The school!” Douxie responded. You turned the corner and found some gumm-gumms harassing some of the old guys who like to play chess in the gazebo.

You held out your sword and charged the creatures, easily taking them down while Douxie covered your back. The two of you made a very good team.

Soon the street was cleared of the black and green monstrosities, but you knew it wouldn’t last long. “We need to get going,” you said helping the old men up.

Your ever growing group made your way through the town with Douxie up front and you guarding the rear. Occasionally you ran into gumm-gumms, but you and Douxie took care of them easily.

Soon you made it to the school. You used your magic to unlock the doors and you had to admit you were proud of yourself.

You watched as Douxie led everyone across the street. Things seemed to be going your way for the time being and you hoped all of your friends were doing okay. You didn’t know how you would go on if you lost anyone else.

Another tremor hit and you wobbled on your feet. Tremors had been occurring all day, but this one felt different.

The cause of the tremor was soon revealed when you heard a roar. It was a roar you had only ever heard once before, and that had been in the Darklands. You watched everyone freeze in the middle of the street as a gigantic black and green snake thing turned towards all of you. It could probably smell the fear radiating off of everyone.

“Fuzz buckets,” Douxie cursed as the Nyarlagroth charged. There was no time to make any mistakes so you just decided to call upon your magic. An orange glow surrounded the Arcadians and they floated into the air. You heard shouts of surprise, but you didn’t have time to warn them as you threw them inside the school.

You went to chase after them, but you instead saw a kitten standing in the middle of the Nyarlagroth’s path. There was no way you were going to let something bad happen to the adorable ball of white fluff, so you did what any compassionate human would do. You ran towards the kitten and picked it up.

Unfortunately now both of you were in the Nyarlagroth’s path, but you weren’t there for long.

You and the kitten glowed blue and you were yanked towards Douxie who caught you. He carried you bridal style into the school, gently setting you down before the group of Arcadians.

“Um, thanks,” you mumbled.

“Anytime, thanks for getting the kitten. I didn’t see it.”

“Of course.”

“What now?” Someone asked and you turned to face them. You didn’t have to be an aura reader to sense that these people were afraid. But what you weren’t expecting was for them to be determined.

“I know you might not be happy to be stuck in here, unable to do anything, but in here you are safer. I also understand how scary this is. Right now Douxie and I need to take care of that giant snake thing so we can make this place safer.” You looked at all the terrified faces and sighed when you noticed that your speech didn’t seem to be impacting them. “Okay, look. We’ve all lived in Arcadia for a while and I’m sure many of you have noticed the weird things that go on around here. There are different creatures that live here who aren’t human, but this is their home too. Those bad guys out there have taken their home before and are trying to take it again as well as ours. There aren’t many people who can do something about it, but those who can are out there, fighting for you and they are going to win. But to do that, they need you in here where you’re safe so they don’t have to worry about you. It may seem scary now, but if we all do our part things will work out!”

You looked again and noticed that everyone seemed to be calmer and even more determined than they were before. “Good luck!” Someone called and you smiled.

“We’ll be back soon,” Douxie said, holding the door for you.

You reluctantly gave the kitten to Phil and Jerry, the two the old guys you had saved. “Now let’s go take care of that Nyarlagroth.”

~~~~

“I didn’t know you gave inspirational speeches,” Douxie joked once you were outside.

“It’s one of my many hidden talents,” you replied smiling at him.

You and Douxie raced to the top of the school to get a good view and you saw the Nyarlagroth circling the school.

“When Jim was in the darklands he stopped one by overwhelming it’s sense of smell,” you explained. “We need to find something that will do that.”

“This is a school, there’s got to be tons of  gross laundry here,” Douxie suggested.

You bit your lip. “I hope this works.”

“Me too,” Douxie sighed, looking one last time at the beast. His aura was buzzing with worry.

“We’ve got this,” you said, pulling him back down the stairs. The two of you went looking for the laundry and you plugged your nose as you levitated it out of the school. “This should be fine.”

“Good.” Douxie chuckled. “I hope these kids won’t be mad about us feeding their stuff to the Nyarlagroth.”

“I think they’ll be fine.” You set the hampers down to catch a breather. “Okay, I’ll go across the street and when the Nyarlagroth comes around be ready to fling this stuff into its mouth.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Douxie said, jokingly saluting you.

You gave a small smile before running across the street, levitating your baskets behind you.

You heard the Nyarlagroth before you saw it. Hiding in an Alley you levitated the hampers and got ready to shove them into the beast’s mouth.

It roared and you sent the disgusting laundry flying into its mouth. You watched as Douxie’s hampers flew in after yours.

It froze and you took it distraction as an opportunity.

“Douxie blast it, I’m gonna go stab it!” You explained, ever eloquent.

You leapt into the air and onto the Nyarlagroth’s back. You felt the beast shift as Douxie began to blast it. Quickly you located a space between its scales and you squeezed your eyes closed as you thrust your sword into it. You pushed it into the hilt and watched as it slowly turned to stone. You felt bad, but you knew it would kill everyone if given the chance.

You floated off the Nyarlagroth and down to the ground where Douxie hugged you.

“We did it!” He celebrated. “You did amazing.”

“Thanks, but we both did amazing.”

You high fived in celebration. The Nyarlagroth was now a pile of useless stones and the People of Arcadia were mostly saved.

However, the celebration couldn’t last long. You had work to do. You and Douxie placed anti gumm-gumm sigils around the house and then went to go look for more people. Soon you had gathered quite a few and you were bringing them back to the cool when you saw a horde of goblins.

Stood to challenge them while Douxie got the people inside. The goblins charged at you and you blasted a few before they got too close.

The leader leapt up at you and you sliced him with your sword. This only angered the rest of them causing them to fight with more vigor. But you were fighting for the safety of your town.

Soon Douxie joined you, bashing the goblins with his guitar that he had kept. It was a little battered by now, but it made for a good weapon.

You fought goblin after goblin, but there always seemed to be more of them.

They suddenly stopped attacking though and you noticed a change in the air. The goblins looked at each other then at you and Douxie who had your weapons arrived.

They turned and ran. You were tempted to go after them, but you realized that you couldn’t do much against that many goblins. You should have to save that problem for later.

“What do you think happened?” Douxie asked.

Red lightning came out of nowhere and hit a gumm-gumm which shattered into a pile of rocks. “I think Jim killed Gunmar!” You exclaimed.

Now that the street was clear you and Douxie went to check on the Arcadians. After you were sure they were good the two of you can off to the canal. The both of you were worried that the Eternal Night hadn't ended.

You didn't have your car so you wouldn't be able to drive. Instead the two of you ran.

You arrived to see Claire, Jim, Toby, Aaarrrgghh, and Blinky looking at a giant crack in the ground.

You looked into it and saw the heartstone, but it wasn't warm and happy orange anymore. It was a cold gray.

"What happened?" You asked, aghast. You had spent so much wonderful time in Trollmarket now it was destroyed.

"Gunmar happened," Blinky said, bitterly.

"What are you going to do now? " you asked.

"We're gonna look for a new Heartstone. Merlin mentioned that there would be one in New Jersey," Jim said.

"New Jersey?" You asked, shocked.

Jim avoided your eyes. "Yeah."

"I'll miss you," you said, hugging him.

"I'll miss you too," he said.

~~~~

After you had met with Jim Claire and Toby and they had told you their side of the battle and you told yours, you went to see your mom who was sanding on the cliff overlooking Arcadia. The two of you were waiting to say goodbye to Jimo. You knew he had to go to New Jersey, but it still hurt you to see him go.

Merlin arrived and he looked out over Arcadia. There was smoke billowing over some buildings and while it looked sad and hopeless, but you knew it would be okay.

You gently stroked the kitten you had saved from the Nyarlagroth. You had decided to adopt the kitten, though you didn’t have a name for the darling fluff ball.  

You were spooked out of your thoughts by some rustling behind you. You turned around to see Jim. You tried to hold back your tears.  You hadn’t even said goodbye yet and you were already missing him.

He went over to you and your mom and hugged the two of you. “I promised I’d never leave you,” he said.

“Honey, I knew this day would come, I just...never knew when,” your mom rubbing yours and Jim’s back. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

You heard your mom sniff and you knew she was crying. Your own tears began to fall. “Just call often,” you sniffed.

“Everyday. Twice. Text. Now and then?” Your mom added.

“Of course, guys. I love you,” Jim said, also sniffing.

“Not more than I love you kiddo,” your mom chuckled.

You heard more rustling and sawBlinky arrive. “Are you ready, Master Jim?” He asked coming over to you.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jim sighed, letting go of you and your mom, but keeping your hands.

“I don’t know what tomorrow brings, but with our Trollhunter by our side, I don’t fear it either,” Blinky said,  putting his hand on Jim's shoulder. You smiled, you were glad Jim had someone like Blinky.

“I really appreciate that, Mr. Blinky,” you mom said.

You heard more rustling and saw Claire and her parents arrive.

She walked over to Jim. “Claire, I can’t ask you to—“

“You didn’t ask,” Claire said and you were so glad Jim had such a great boyfriend.

“She has enough credits to graduate early,” Claire's mom said. “We’re treating this as some time abroad.”

“As long as she comes back soon,” her dad said.

“Well, congratulations, Claire,” You said, high fiving her. You wondered how it was possible for a sophomore to have accomplished that.

Jim laughed and you jumped a little as Strickler came flying by. He landed by your mom. “Good luck, Young Atlas.”

Jim smiled at the three of you and slowly let go of your mom’s hand as he walked away.

“You did good raising him, Doc,” NotEnrique consoled. “Here’s a thousand new babies to raise.”

“What?” Strickler asked as NotEnrique handed your mom the cradle stone.

“Have fun with that, you two,” NotEnrique called, running away so they couldn’t give the stone back.

“Wait!” Strickler called.

“This’ll be fun,” you muttered and your mom patted your back.

“Wait! Wait for me!” Toby yelled as he came running up to the group in his War Hammer armor. “Boy, these goodbyes are tough, you know. Nana wanted me to take Mr. Meow Meow P.I., but he does not travel well. What?”

“Tobes...you have to stay.” Jim said, kneeling down.

“What?” Toby asked and you felt really, really bad for him. “You’re going on a quest. I love quests. We go everywhere together.”

“I’m hurt, Claire lost her Shadow Staff. We need you here to protect Arcadia.”

“No, Wingman,” Aaarrrgghh said, coming up to Toby. “I help. I stay.”

Blinky gasped then nodded, accepting it. Their air was thick with bittersweet goodbyes and you felt a few tears fall.

“So, you’re staying with me-” Toby gestured to you and Aaarrrgghh “-and you’re leaving,” he summarized, gesturing to Claire, Jim and Blinky.

“But we’ll be back. Someday,” Jim promised as you handed the kitten to your mom and walked over to them with Claire. The four of you were pulled into a group hug.

“You better,” Toby sniffed.

“And then we’ll get tacos,” Jim said, chuckling.

“And enchiladas,” Claire added.

“We sure found that adventure. Right, Tobes?” Jim asked and you smiled through your tears.

“I’m really glad we took the canal that morning,” Toby agreed.

The four of you stood. “Keep Arcadia safe,” Jim requested. “You’re its only Trollhunters now.”

Nomura walked over and hugged Toby. “I still don’t like you.”

“I know,” Toby cried. You began to quietly shed your tears as your friends and little brother walked away into the forest.

They stopped and you watched as Merlin pulled out the Eclipse Blade and you noticed that it was broken. “I believe this belongs to you, Trollhunter.”

Merlin used his magic to fix it and Jim grabbed it. They looked back one more time and you waved a sad goodbye.

****

Thank yall so much for reading and liking my writing!! It makes me so happy to see your positive feedback!! It was super bittersweet writing this chapter. I know there will be more, but it felt sad writing the scene where they leave. Anyways, I really hope y'all have a wonderful day/night!! And stay safe!! 💙💙

Also I haven't though if a name for the kitten yet, so if you have any suggestions I'm open.

P.S. if you want to be on the taglist feel free to ask. I hope it works and please message me if it doesn’t.P.S. if you want to be on the taglist feel free to ask. I hope it works and please message me if it doesn’t.

P.P.S. I'm totally open for requests on fluffy half chapters! If you have any ideas for the half chapters send them in and I'll do my best to include them.

[natrashafierce]

My husband made a scared little whimper in his sleep. I said, “It’s okay,” and reached over to gently stroke his hand, but it startled him. I cooed that I was sorry, and he’s okay.

“In the rat box!” he explained.

“Well, get out of there. It’ll be okay,” I assured him,

“Gotta get in the rat box and watch a movie.” This sounded oddly derisive.

“Oh,” I said. “After the movie, then.”

“Cow’s pissed I took his parking spot.” Then he fell back asleep.

His dreams always sound like cartoons. He’s hanging out with anthropomorphic animals in there, or something. I can’t decide if that’s more fun than my dreams or not.

Mine are usually complicated, long, make 80% sense, and it’s not uncommon that I have a revelation that’s helpful to my real life either materially or emotionally. BUT the time dilation can be nuts, they’re intense, and I’m always trying to figure everything out which is an absolute bitch in a DREAM. It feels like I’m stuck in an entire episode or season of some HBO drama. Maybe I’d rather be in the rat box watching a movie.

I would love to have my biggest dream problem be that I took a cow’s parking space instead of having to psychoanalyze the guards in a woman’s mental institution to figure out how to sneak people out. I’m being all careful to map the building without being seen, meanwhile in my husband’s mind he doesn’t even think to be conscientious toward a cartoon cow. In real life he’s very conscientious, but fuck that cow’s parking spot. Who does that cow think he is, anyway?

That must be so freeing. I’ll kill violent people in my dreams, but otherwise I’m as careful to avoid unnecessary conflict with difficult dream people as I am in real life, so I’m constantly gauging whether they crossed a line such that conflict is necessary. Then sometimes I have to give them conflict. Juggling that is exhausting! Then you wake up and most of the people don’t even exist! If you wake up and the rat box doesn’t exist, that’s just a good feeling, probably. You’re just glad your time in the rat box wasn’t real, but my dossiers on dream motherfuckers feel like real time that was wasted.

But maybe it’s not so great, because his dreams seem to scare him often — which I guess makes sense because he doesn’t have much conscious control in them. It’s really hard to scare me in a dream or in real life. I’ll get angry or frustrated or sad in dreams, but I usually don’t feel like they just happen to me, I almost always feel like I can do something.

Wait, I just realized… is he scared of the cow? I woke him up because he was scared. I assumed the rat box was scary, but he did not intend to leave it. This cow’s got him on edge, I think. Because he took his parking space. It’s unresolved while he’s watching the movie in the rat box, maybe.

That would actually be typical of him. It is very important to him to be good, and if he does bad things in dreams he expects to be punished. I think his more conscious mind is a step behind his actions in a dream, so he watches himself do things he doesn’t approve of. Then the idea he should be punished arises, and it steers the dream in that direction. He also dreams of messing up things he normally wouldn’t and letting people down, too.

I’m pretty conscious in my dreams and making alert decisions, so my dreams rarely make me feel bad about anything. I have my same principles. The rare times I start to go against my principles I end up stopping and having some revelation, and sometimes realize I’m dreaming.

It’s been a long time since I had a helpless “oh my god I can’t believe I just did that, why did I just do that?” dream. Those seem to freak people out a lot, and they freaked me out back when I had them. But for probably a decade now, I always accept that I did whatever I did and process it. When I have those dreams that I’m back in school and didn’t go to any of my classes and now I’m going to fail the semester, I just show up to class open and nonchalant with the teacher about how I didn’t put forth any effort and I won’t start now, and then I leave without bothering to take the test and have an entirely different storyline in the same dream world. One time I just went and sat in the food court of a futuristic mall feeling peaceful I got to be there in the middle of a weekday when there weren’t a lot of people.

Instead, most of my stress in dreams is from needing to help people in some kind of immediate danger, especially if I have to fight an armed person or animal. Once I had to go through an air vent to this uncharted grey swamp dimension with a crew of people, got separated from them, and had to fight a crocodile that almost ate a kid. That was in the 2000s and it was so vivid I still remember it. Another one from that same decade had some guy going Texas Chainsaw Massacre in some sci-fi building with floating platforms, and I knew I wasn’t going to win that one but had to do it anyway. I woke up because I died. They almost never scare me because there’s no time to be scared, but I never get easy fights in my dreams. They’re always really frustrating and exhausting, because that dream shit where you can feel your real life sleep paralysis kicks in where everything seems slow and ineffectual. Any bullets I shoot go in slow motion, or if I’m stabbing someone, it’s the bluntest blade ever. I usually wake up from frustration or from dying. I rarely get to just win and continue the dream. I don’t think my husband deals with stuff like that.

Our dreams are very on-brand with regard to our respective childhoods. I had to witness domestic violence when I was young so my dream stress is just like, ah great, I must put this maniac in his place before he kills someone. I have to save all the people who are trapped. I never actually fought my dad because he was not violent toward me, I just dressed him down once I was old enough and it would shame him into submission. But when I was a little kid I wondered if it was my responsibility to kill him, or if there was anything I could do to outwit him, or if there was some other solution I hadn’t thought of. Every angle matters when you’re powerless. My dreams have involved me trying to figure everything out since before I started school. I just quit feeling powerless the older I got, and the compulsive digging and plotting still drives the dreams.

Whereas my husband was mortified by having to stand in the corner for time out, had to take on a lot of responsibility his mom heaped on him, and had to diligently regulate his emotions in response to her being impossible and insane. He gets stressed in dreams because he dropped the ball in some way — he betrayed his principles, or neglected a responsibility, or should have kept his cool.

I wonder if the rat box was punishment for stealing the cow’s parking space? He’s like me, he wouldn’t dodge the punishment, he’d just get it over with.

If I find out what the rat box was, I will update this if it’s not too personal. But he forgets most of his dreams, so who knows.

[error-core-animations]

A Child, Or A God? (chapter one, New Place, New Frienss.)

Echo woke up to a bright blue sky, with some scattered and fluffy clouds. He didn't know where he was, or how he got here. He felt oddly... Healthy? Was that the right word? He wasn't sure. He did feel good, somehow. A nice contrast to, well, just before. He sat up.

"Wh- I can sit up again!" He raised his hand in front of his face, wiggling his fingers. "Nothing hurts anymore, but why?" He wondered aloud.

Echo stood up, looking around. This place was grassy, it seemed. There were flowers, too! He'd never seen one in person before, it was beautiful. He stroked the petals, smiling. "Gizmo, come look at this flower!" He called out. No excited beeps. Huh.

He remembered what had happened. He... He'd died. Gizmo had tried to save him and he'd just died.

"No..." He whispered. Gizmo... His brother... He was alone, for real. All because Echo was weak and had died.

Echo collapsed onto the ground, tears streaming down his face. No no no no!

"No." He whispered through his sobs. "I left him." He curled up into a tiny ball. "I left him like our father did." His breathing was erratic and shallow, the cooling fluid leaking from his eyes blurring his vision. No, no, no no! This was all wrong!

He gasped with pain. His heart felt like it was about to explode, like it was soaked again and everything hurt oh FSM no not again he couldn't do it the agony was too much-

There was a hand on his shoulder, shaking him. "Hey, Zane! You're back again? Geez, man, what's happening? Are you dying squared or something?" A cold, gruff voice asked.

Echo was shaken out of his flashback. He looked up at the stranger who'd called him Zane. "I'm not Zane. Who're you?" He asked the dark haired person kneeling next to him.

He sighed. "I'm Morro, and if you're not Zane, why do you look like him?" He snapped back.

"I am not sure." He said.

"Well, what is your name then?"

"I'm Echo." He said. "Where am I?"

"You really don't know anything, do you?" He chuckled. His tone had softened, seemingly in sympathy. "You're in the Departed Realm. We're both dead."

"I know I'm dead. I'm just not... Used to new things." He decided this stranger didn't need to know anything about his past.

"Ah. I see." Morro nodded, something like understanding in his eyes.

"Who's Zane? You said I looked like him."

"He's a ninja, with the power of ice. Zane's a nindroid, too. Looks a lot like you do, kiddo." Morro said, extending a hand. "C'mon, I've got a nindroid friend, I think he'll like you a lot."

"Okay." Echo took his hand, stumbling to his feet. "What's his name? And, what's a nindroid?"

Morro helped him up, keeping an arm around Echo's shoulders to keep him standing. "His name is Eron, and a nindroid is a ninja android. Basically a warrior robot. Eron fought a lot when he was alive, too." Morro explained.

"Oh. Does this... Zane person fight a lot too?" Echo asked, leaning on Morro's shoulder for support.

Morro chuckled. "You could say that. He fought me, when I temporarily came back to life, and Eron when he was still alive. We weren't the best people back then." He shrugged, causing Echo to trip slightly.

"Eek!" Echo almost fell back down, but Morro caught him.

"Oops! Sorry, buddy! I'll be more careful." He pulled Echo back up, running a hand through Echo's fluffy hair to check for any injuries worse than shock. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." Echo had latched onto Morro's arm. "But please don't do that again, it was scary."

Morro patted the nindroid's shoulder. "Okay. I'll try not to do anything that makes you fall." He said, starting to walk again. Echo had to scramble to keep up due to his shorter legs.

"So, uh, what's your friend like?" Echo tried to distract himself from the whole being dead thing.

Morro thought a bit, then spoke. "He's pretty quiet, but friendly. He's loyal, protective, and a hugger. Be prepared for a bone crushing hug when you two meet." Morro explained. "I think you two will get along. Eron is pretty good with kids. At least, I assume you're a kid. It's hard to tell with nindroids."

Echo looked up, confused. "What's a kid?" he asked. He'd never heard that word before. "And, do you really think he'll like me? I'm useless, small, and rusty." He said. He was pretty sure Gizmo only liked him because he was the only other person there. At least, he had been. He shook the thought of his death away.

Morro smiled softly. "Echo, of course he'll like you! There's nothing really wrong with you." He messed with Echo's hair a bit. "And a kid is a young person, with very limited life experience and maturity. That's what I remember from the dictionary, anyways." He explained.

"You really think I'm not useless or stupid?" He was shocked. He'd tried to swim through an entire ocean! How was that not stupid?

"Wh-no! You're still young, and still learning! You died way before you should've, and that's horrible! Who even let that happen?!" Morro was horrified. Either this kid was incredibly isolated, or he lived with someone who was purposefully making him eternally dependant on them.

Echo mumbled something, but it was inaudible.

"Sorry, I didn't quite hear." Morro gently squeezed Echo's shoulder, trying to comfort him.

Echo took a deep breath, and cried out "I did! I tried to escape the lighthouse, but I was a horrible swimmer, so I went back inside, but I was so rusty already and the water clogged and broke my systems, my brother tried to get me to hold on, so he could try to save me, but I knew I didn't deserve to be saved, so I just died because I'm awful an-and weak, I'm sorry!" He sobbed.

"No, kid," Morro didn't quite know how to handle a crying child, much less this. "You didn't deserve to die, or to be stuck in that lighthouse. I assume your brother didn't either." He picked Echo up into a hug.

Echo sniffled. "He really didn't. It's my fault our father left. I wasn't good enough. I never was going to be."

"Shhh, your father shouldn't have left you. Especially not in the middle of nowhere." He gently rocked the child, trying to calm him down. "It's going to be okay, we're almost home." He whispered.

"Mhm." Echo squeaked. "You really thing Eron won't hate me?" He asked.

Morro shook his head. "Of course he won't! He's probably going to sympathize with you, actually."

"How?" Echo didn't think this Eron person sounded nearly as bad as he was.

"His dad didn't really care about him either."

"Oh." Echo's eyes widened. "For real?"

Morro chuckled. "Of course."

They'd arrived at Morro's and Mr. E's living space. Morro stopped walking, and Echo grabbed Morro's shirt collar.

"Here we are." Morro gestured at the cavelike house. "Our home." He grinned, and the duo went inside.

-*~-*~-

Gizmo pressed himself against Echo's lifeless body. His baby brother was gone. He couldn't do anything to bring him back. If only their father hadn't left them alone. To suffer, to hate themselves, to fucking die!

He hated that man. Because of him, Echo was gone forever. If Gizmo could cry, he would be sobbing his eyes out right now. His baby brother wouldn't giggle at the odd creatures he saw in the ocean again. His sweet smile would never grace his rusty face despite their horrible situation again. Echo wouldn't ever pick him up, spinning around with joy, for seemingly no reason again.

He looked up at Echo's blank, dead expression. He hadn't even thought himself worthy of being saved. His sweet, innocent, kind little brother thought he wasn't good enough to live. He reached up, stroking his baby brother's cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Echo." He whispered.

He didn't respond.

Gizmo gave a low whine of grief. Echo was gone. Like, really gone. He wasn't coming back. Ever. He could barely process that thought. Of Echo not being there anymore. He pressed closer to Echo, half expecting him to wake up and yawn, telling him that he was okay and he'd just needed some rest. Or maybe...

Gizmo was thinking. Maybe Echo was still in there, but his body was so damaged he couldn't move or do much of anything! If he was careful, they could share a body. He could fix his baby brother, they'd be okay together. They might even be able to escape!

That might be wishful thinking, but it didn't matter. Echo was going to be just fine, and they could be happy again. Even if they were stuck, they would have each other. No matter what it took. He immediately gathered together the dropped pieces of equipment, planning out the next few days in his mind.

He immediately began the lengthy process of repairs. Echo was going to be okay. It might take weeks, but he was going to be fine. He had to be.

[i-just-love-spop]

...and then I found you. [Part two]

Part one | Part three

“Good luck?” Adora mumbled.

Was that a thing you said in a situation like this?

She wasn’t sure.

“Yeah, and, uh... Don’t die?” Catra added, more as a joke than anything – then she gulped. She’d never thought about that much before, but... “Can you die during childbirth? Is that- is that a thing that can happen?”

Judging from the look Asa was giving them, that was apparently actually a thing.

The brunette felt her blood run cold.

Melog curled up at her feet and wailed.

“You can?!” Adora shrieked.

“IT’S NOT VERY LIKELY, AND NOBODY IS GOING TO DIE!” Bow yelled.

“Oh, you might be wrong about the nobody dying part,” Glimmer grumbled under her breath as her pain once again eased off a bit. “If these two keep it up, there might be a murder.”

—

Actually less a request than just the result of me and @darkmasterofcupcakes talking about Glimbow (and stubborn Glimmer that would insist on still working until literally the last minute of her pregnancy) for way too long that spiraled into a huge fic. This is the second out of three parts because this spiraled into another almost four thousand words and would have been way too long if I added what I have planned for the last part.

Companion fic to “One night, I wished upon a star...” which completes the title.

There’s a bit more Catradora in this chapter than there was in the last one, but this is still mainly a Glimbow-fic.

Fun fact about the healer’s name, Asa, by the way: it’s a gender neutral name that means “healer”/“physician” in Hebrew, so their name is also a pun, just not as obviously as everyone else’s.

Summary: Glimmer is very freaked out and having her baby.

Bow is extremely worried and trying to stay calm.

Adora and Catra are trying to help, but are actually just stressing their friends out even more.

Asa really, really wishes they’d picked a different career.

(There is also cursing in this part, unsurprisingly.)

—

“No, you don’t understand! Glimmer is having the baby!”

Adora was panicking. And she was also really, really bad at explaining the situation to the poor healer, who was shaking their head and just extremely confused at this point.  

“You said that already. And tell me again why you’re running around as She-Ra?”

There was no real need to panic that much, but telling Adora that wouldn’t have been of much use – she had an immense lack of medical knowledge when it came to most topics, and explaining things to her properly often took hours. Asa had learned that the hard way over the course of the last few years.

“I- uh-” Adora gulped and hid the sword behind her back. She was so nervous she didn’t even remember she had the ability transform back if she wanted to. ”I might have destroyed a wall on the way here, because the corridors led the other way and I needed to be fast, but it wasn’t a supporting one? I think?”

She was full-on rambling now, grinning sheepishly.

Asa just shook their head.

“Why did I even ask...” They looked at She-Ra again. Nothing the young woman had said so far had explained anything about the situation, and the healer was extremely confused now. “Tell me again why you came here instead of Bow and Glimmer if she’s having the baby?”

Asa still didn’t understand what was going on.

Adora gave up.

“You know what? Forget it. Just... grab the medical supplies.“

They listened, despite their confusion, and grabbed a first-aid set.

“...okay? Now what?”

She-Ra just grabbed Asa by the arm and dragged them along after her.

—

Bow was pretty sure he hadn’t been this freaked out since they’d traveled to space to save Glimmer from Horde Prime’s ship so many years ago.

He needed the others to be back, immediately – especially Adora because there was absolutely no way he could do this without a healer.

He would if he had to, but he really, really hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Glimmer was in so much pain, and it was terrifying.

She was usually way too stubborn to admit that she was in pain at all – he vividly remembered that one time when they were younger that she’d broken her arm on a scouting mission and had insisted the entire way back that she was okay and it barely hurt despite the fact that she was unable to move it. ...and that was just one out of several similar examples.

He could, however, only remember about two occasions where he’d actually seen her scream or cry in pain that were even close to comparable to this – one of them had been a teleporting mishap when she was younger, and the other had been when she’d taken a blast to the chest to protect him, which he still felt guilty about so many years later. Both of these incidents had involved several broken bones and had required immediate surgery... and she’d almost died in the second one.

So that she was in this much pain right now was, well... terrifying, to say the least.

He’d read several books on the topic, and they all said that labor was painful, but ‘painful’ wasn’t exactly a great measuring unit for anything.

Was it supposed to be this bad? Was she supposed to be in so much pain? Or was something wrong with her or the baby?

Stars, he was having a really hard time thinking straight at the moment.

Especially since Glimmer was somewhere between screaming and crying the entire time.

“I’m dying. I’m dying! I DON’T WANT TO DIE ON A FUCKING TABLE!”

He stroked his thumb over the back of her hand.

“You’ll be okay, I promise. And you’re not going to die.”

He was trying to calm himself down as much as her. Stars, he’d not expected this to be so scary.

...and maybe it wouldn’t have been, hadn’t it happened in the meeting room instead of her own room or the healers’ chamber.

But that didn’t matter now. The situation was what it was, and they kind of had to work with that. ...no matter how much the thought of maybe having to deliver the baby himself made him panic.

“You just need to remember how to breathe, okay? Just like we practiced.”

Bow’s smile felt weak even to him.

Glimmer squeezed his hand a little too tight and let out another scream, but slowly, very slowly, she started breathing steadier.

That was something, at least.

What was taking the others so long?

‘I swear to the stars, they saved Etheria faster than this...’

—

The door flung open.

“Sorry, I wanted to be here sooner, but Melog was trying to be helpful, and, spoilers, they weren’t, so I spent several minutes collecting the pillows from the floor again. Twice,” Catra mumbled sheepishly as she entered, arms full of pillows.

Melog meowed in protest.

“I- listen, we can discuss this later, okay? Now is not the time.” She handed Bow the pillows and a sterile blue blanket that was still packaged. “Here you go.”

He let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.”

This was a start, at least. The situation was still more than awful, and he really, really needed Adora to come back quickly... but it was a start.

He took the next few minutes to make his wife as comfortable as it was possible to be on a meeting room table.

Meanwhile, Catra got closer to the table and awkwardly forced herself to maybe try and have a normal conversation, despite the situation.

When she looked at Glimmer’s ashen face that was distorted with pain, the brunette’s heart dropped to her gut.

“Shit, you...” She gulped. “I thought you looked bad at the meeting, but... holy shit.”

The brunette was immensely startled by how awful her friend looked.

“Thanks Catra, THAT IS IMMENSELY HELPFUL RIGHT NOW!”

Glimmer knew she looked awful, considering how awful she felt, she didn’t really need anyone to tell her about it to remind her of it constantly.

Maybe Glimmer would feel bad for yelling at everyone around her so much later.

Right now, she didn’t.

In the slightest.

Catra flinched.

“Right. Sorry. You look great...?” She grinned sheepishly. “I really like what you, uh, did with your hair?”

She had no clue how to deal with the situation.

Glimmer just grimaced.

“...would you please just shut up?“

She groaned.

“Right. Sorry.” Catra rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m... not great with stuff like this.”

“You don’t say.”

This was probably the most deadpan way Glimmer had ever spoken.

“...should I give you guys some space? I’m going to give you space, I should check what’s keeping Adora so long. I’ll be right back.”

She waved awkwardly and backed out of the room.

Melog followed her immediately.

—

“Is this better?” Bow asked when he was finished setting the pillows.

“A little?” Glimmer sobbed, hugging one of the pillows to her chest. The one under her head did a lot to increase her comfort, and the blanket also helped a lot, but... “I just want my bed.”

“I know, sweetie. I know.“ He kissed her forehead. “Later. I promise.”

“But I want it now...”

Her husband sighed.

“Yeah, I know that, too. And I swear, if we could arrange that, I would do it in a heartbeat. But we kind of have to make do with what we have.” He squeezed her hand. “Tell me again why you scheduled a meeting one week before your due date in the first place?”

Maybe distracting her with talking to her would help a little. And even if it didn’t help much, he was still genuinely curious.

He’d already made a mental note to check with their friends and the guards more often when they had their next child – they’d both agreed they wanted more than one relatively early on –, because he was not going to be surprised by another ‘oh by the way, we have a meeting tomorrow at six in the morning’ one week before his wife’s due date ever again, especially not after this.

Glimmer groaned, but she responded anyway.

“Well, I didn’t think we’d spend a week discussing stuff, or that she’d be early...”

Bow raised an eyebrow.

“You know she might not even be early because the due date is just an estimate, right?”

“...huh?” Now that she thought about it... “Shit, Asa did say something like that in one of the earlier checkups and I completely forgot about it.” Glimmer groaned. “I’m such an idiot...”

Really, she had no one but herself to blame for the situation – but she was having a hard time dealing with the pain, and screaming at the world made it a little easier.

When the next contraction hit, she squalled in pain and squeezed his hand again, way too tight, and she knew if she kept this up she would probably end up breaking his fingers, but he just smiled through the firm squeeze and rubbed the back of her hand again.

“It will be okay. And you’re not an idiot. A bit forgetful? Maybe. Way too stubborn? Definitely. But I wouldn’t have you any other way. ...even if it results in our first baby being born in the meeting room.” He chuckled at the absurdity of the situation and squeezed her hand. “I love you Glim. Always have, always will. No matter what.”

“I could just about strangle someone right now because HOLY FUCK THIS HURTS SO MUCH-” She forced herself to take a deep breath and smiled weakly. “But I love you, too, sweetie.”

—

Maybe one minute passed, maybe five, but it felt like an eternity of anxious waiting until the door finally flung open again.

“So, uh, the good news is, I found Adora. And she brought Asa! And medical supplies!” Catra reported when she came in.

“Stars, thank you,” Glimmer sighed.

That was a huge relief.

“The bad news is, uh-“

She-Ra entered after her wife, waving awkwardly.

“Hiii.”

She hid the sword behind her back.

Bow and Glimmer stared at her for a moment.

“Why are you transformed?” Adora was about to reply when Bow lifted his hands. “You know what? I don’t even want to know. Please just keep the weapon away from my wife and the baby, thank you.”

“Yeah, of course. And good, I won’t tell you! Good! I was just...” She stopped mid-sentence. “Holy shit, Glimmer, you look-”

She broke off when her wife gently nudged her in the ribs and shook her head. Instead of finishing the sentence, Adora just gave an awkward thumbs up.

Glimmer groaned and glared at her friends.

“I hate you both.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Bow said, shaking his head.

“Does anyone else want to remind me how awful I look? Bow? Asa? Anyone?!”

Asa, who had entered just after Adora, facepalmed and shook their head as they walked up to the table.

“No, thanks, we’re good.” They looked at Glimmer. “So, judging from the pillows and her apparently extremely close contractions, we’re delivering the baby on the meeting room table, aren’t we?”

Everyone nodded.

Asa facepalmed again.

“...I’ve known you guys long enough. Honestly, what was I expecting.”

“...well this is going to be the fastest delivery I’ve ever helped with,” the healer murmured after they‘d checked Glimmer, choosing to put off asking why the couple had waited until the baby was crowning to call for medical staff.

Their best guess was probably Glimmer‘s stubbornness. That was how they explained most things that had happened since they’d first met Glimmer back when she was ten.

“I- uhm... we’ll be... waiting outside? I guess? Call us if you need anything?”

Adora backed away slightly.

She had no idea what she was supposed to do in this situation. They’d never really talked about who was supposed to be present during the birth of the baby – not that that was a topic they’d discussed a lot in general, and even if they had, the situation would have been way different if the place the baby was being born wasn’t a meeting room table –, and now she wasn’t sure if they were supposed to leave or to stay, but she also knew that listening to Glimmer scream was freaking her the fuck out, and she couldn’t take it anymore.

Judging from Catra’s facial expression, her wife felt the same way.

“We‘ll be right outside the door, so just call if you need us, okay?”

Catra added, and Melog meowed some sort of reassurance that no one except Catra understood.

“Good luck?” Adora mumbled.

Was that a thing you said in a situation like this?

She wasn’t sure.

“Yeah, and, uh... Don’t die?” Catra added, more as a joke than anything – then she gulped. She’d never thought about that much before, but... “Can you die during childbirth? Is that- is that a thing that can happen?”

Judging from the look Asa was giving them, that was apparently actually a thing.

The brunette felt her blood run cold.

Melog curled up at her feet and wailed.

“You can?!” Adora shrieked.

Her face went chalk-white. The thought made her so sick she felt like throwing up was very definitely a possibility right now, and her emotions were completely all over the place, so much that She-Ra disappeared and regular Adora was back – which, all things considered, was probably for the best.

“IT’S NOT VERY LIKELY, AND NOBODY IS GOING TO DIE!” Bow yelled.

That was not something he wanted to be thinking about right now, and despite knowing that it was extremely unlikely, the fact that Catra had just brought it up made him freak out all over again and the mental image would probably be haunting him for weeks, even if Glimmer was fine afterwards.

Which she would be.

She’d be fine.

Bow closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

‘I think I just forgot how to breathe for a moment.’

“Oh, you might be wrong about the nobody dying part,” Glimmer grumbled under her breath as the pain once again eased off a bit. “If these two keep it up, there might be a murder.”

Asa decided now was probably the time to interfere.

“Glimmer is going to be okay. I know the pain she’s going through right now seems scary, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary given the situation. You two can stay in here if you want, or you can wait outside, but please just decide now, and whatever you do, don’t stress her out even more by talking about the possibility her dying in front of her. She will not die, and this is not exactly helpful right now.”

“Yeah, I- Right. We‘ll be- outside or something,” Catra mumbled, just as shaken up by the information that apparently, there was a possibility – however small it might be – that Glimmer could die, as her trembling wife was.

She put an arm around Adora and rubbed her back when they left the room, both knowing that they wouldn’t go very far because if something went wrong while they were away, they’d never forgive themselves.

—

“Can I have some pain meds? Can I please have some pain meds?” Glimmer begged as soon as they’d left the room.

She hadn’t really dared to ask while her friends had still been in here, considering how terrified they’d already been, but she couldn’t take the pain a second longer.

Asa looked at her deadpan.

“My apologies, your Majesty.” That already wasn’t a very good sign. The healer usually just called her Glimmer because they’d known each other since Glimmer was little, and when it came to formal titles, they were usually only brought up when Asa was either annoyed or about to tell the then-princess and now-Queen something that she didn’t want to hear, or both. “I could have done that if you came into the healers’ chamber, like, two hours ago. By the time they would start working, you’ll be long done with the delivery.”

Glimmer felt sick. She was terrified. There was absolutely no way she could do this without medication.

“No, that’s fine. Just give me some pain meds. The baby can stay in there a little longer until the meds kick in!”

It wasn’t a rational or realistic idea, and somewhere deep inside her head, she knew that, but she was so freaked out that she would have done pretty much anything for at least a gleam of hope that she wouldn’t have to do it like this.

She was also in massive denial, plain and simple.

"Keep telling yourself that, because that's really not something you get to decide...“

Realistically speaking, the Queen had up to a couple of minutes at max, probably less, until her body would do the job for her, no matter how much she tried to resist. No matter how stubborn the Queen was, she couldn’t go against her body’s natural instincts. That wasn’t how that worked.

Asa shook their head. They really, really should have chosen a different career.

Glimmer just sobbed.

"Please... You have to give me something, because it literally feels like I'm being torn in half right now..."

“Isn’t there anything you can do?” Bow asked, squeezing Glimmer’s hand again.

He couldn’t stand seeing his wife in so much pain.

Asa shook their head.

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t have anything that would take effect before the baby is born, so that would be kind of useless... that won’t change, no matter how often or how nicely you ask.”

Bow was actually a reasonable, sensible guy most of the time – he was probably the only one out of this group of four friends that was; at least when it came to injuries.

Asa liked him a lot.

That didn’t change the fact that there wasn’t anything they could do about the situation.

Glimmer just sobbed. Her husband rubbed her hair.

“I’m such an idiot. I should have realized something was off with the whole practice contractions-situation...”

Bow felt awful.

“Yeah, or maybe I should have just told you what was going on when I figured it out, but what difference does that make now?!“

The love of her life feeling guilty about something out of his control just made her feel worse, not better.

She just wanted this to be over...

“It will be over soon, Glimmer, I promise,” Asa said and smiled at her encouragingly. “Just stay awake, breathe and push when I tell you to, okay? Your body will do most of this on its own, anyway. You’ll get through this.”

The Queen got on their last nerve sometimes, but Asa had known her for a long time, and at the end of the day, Glimmer was a good person that they liked a lot, even if she drove them crazy most of the time.

“You can do this,” Bow said, squeezing her hand again.

Glimmer took a deep breath and closed her eyes, still immensely terrified, but also determined now.

“Okay... Okay. I can do this. I can do this.”

—

“Do you think we should go check on them again?”

Catra and Adora were sitting against the door just outside the room, leaning against each other.

The blonde was anxious.

Glimmer being in pain freaked her out, the whole possibility of death during childbirth freaked her out even more and that she was unable to actively help made things so much worse.

Catra was hugging Adora with one arm and petting the equally terrified Melog with the other arm to calm them down a bit.

Neither of them wanted to be far away from Glimmer and Bow, especially in case something went wrong, and they needed She-Ra’s healing powers, or more pillows, or-

The fact that Catra was just about the same level of scared and anxious and restless as her wife and Melog definitely didn’t help the situation, either.

The brunette nodded as her body tensed up again.

“I mean, maybe they need something!”

They had to check on them to make sure Glimmer was still alive. Immediately.

“Right?!”

Both of them got up simultaneously, Melog jumping up and exchanging some worried words with Catra as their emotion indicator fur turned red again, and all three of them all but broke down the door together when they entered the room.

—

Asa groaned when the door flung open.

‘Not this again...’

This was the third time that Catra and Adora had walked in during the past five minutes, and each time they’d only taken a quick look at their friends to then immediately walk out again.

"Listen, you two, I really do need to concentrate right now, and so does Glimmer, and this distraction of you constantly entering the room to then leave it again is not helping, so either you take a seat and stay or you remain outside from now on."

They were really getting on Asa’s last nerve.

This was the second time today that the healer really, really wished they’d picked a different career.

"But-" Catra started.

She didn’t even get close to finishing the sentence, however, because this was finally the last straw for Glimmer, who had, all things considered, taken a surprisingly long time to blow up at her best friends.

“YOU TWO ARE STRESSING ME OUT MORE THAN THE ACTUAL CHILDBIRTH!” That was not really true because the whole situation felt much more stressful than everything Glimmer had ever experienced and everything hurt way too fucking much, but Adora and Catra were making things way, way worse. She’d had it with these two for today. “SHUT UP AND SIT YOUR ASSES DOWN IMMEDIATELY OR GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE AND STAY OUTSIDE!”

That did it.

The two of them jumped a mile in fright at the time of her voice, then sat down on the floor immediately.

The Queen smiled through her pain in a really weird, but immensely satisfied way.

“Thank you.”

The two women were instantly reminded why they’d continuously left in the first place despite wanting to constantly check on Glimmer when the latter let out another anguished cry.

Catra and Adora just pulled each other close, burying their heads in each other’s shoulders. This was scary.

This was really, really terrifying.

They winced at each of Glimmer’s screams, neither of them daring to look.

Melog was curled up against Catra’s back, whimpering.

It felt like an eternity passed in what was in reality just a couple of – albeit terrifying – minutes.

—

“Just a couple more pushes, okay? You can do it.”

Asa gave the Queen another encouraging smile.

Glimmer groaned, then screamed and clenched her fists. Just a little more. Just a little more and this will all be over.

Bow stroked her hair gently. He had no idea how much pain she was exactly in right now, and he really, really wished it wasn’t this painful for her... but he was also so, so incredibly proud of her.

“It’s almost over, okay? You’re doing great.”

She smiled at him weakly, took a deep breath, let out another scream and closed her eyes to gather every bit of strength left in her body.

—

The next couple of minutes passed in a blur.

And then finally, finally, finally the pain let of and a loud cry filled the room. Soon afterwards, the pain was gone almost entirely.

Glimmer let out a sharp breath.

“Well that was a lot more exhausting than I thought it would be,” she mumbled weakly, sinking back into her heavenly soft pillows.

Then the world went black.

[for-peace-war]

No, really. Lovecraft Country sucks.

These are spoilers, but I also don’t give a shit because it’s a bad show and I hope you skim enough to fucking skip it.  I took a few days to decide if I hated it enough to write this and well, I do. 

I will try my best not to say “X is a bad actor,” but instead stick with the characters as they’re intended save for one particular issue.

The Story

It isn’t very Lovecraftian.  And don’t take this as me saying Lovecraft was some kind of master of his craft.  I think he was an absurd racist that used xenophobia as his guise for what truly horrified the sane mind. That being said, the element of the unknown is definitely the hallmark of his world and that in no way is represented in this show.  It could easily be called “Goosebumps: The Black Version” and it’d be just as authentic--if not more so, really.

The story deals with the Bible (?) and magic that comes from uh, knowing the names of things.  You speak a made up language and then you do some kind of confusing magic that has no real purpose or point.  I sound dismissive of this because I am, to be clear.  They could have just as easily had this language be something whites stole from Africans and then perverted into their own means of power (it’d be a pretty easy parralel to any number of imperialist issues left behind in Africa, huh.)

But anyway, it has a tentacle monster. I think we see a big scary octopus at one point.  But the monsters are often in your face and it’s probably less scary than Stranger Things S1.

Honestly, the characters repeat “autumnal equinox” so much that I felt I was going to have a fucking breakdown.  Just the writing is very empty and no one seems to really care about anyone else on the screen except for in a rare moment between the only two characters that make it far and matter. 

Characters

They aren’t very good.  There are tropes present, which isn’t bad at all, but the way the characters interact, speak, and in general move us through the story feels stilted, often nonsensical, and entirely reliant on the viewer assuming that the latest sentence spoken is the only one that matters.

Atticus “Tic” Freeman

A war criminal that derives his power from the white blood inside of him. Again, dismissive but true.  We see this man struggle to connect pieces to a puzzle and eventually he pays the price for it, but not in the way Lovecraft would have someone pay for endeavoring beyond their realm.  Rather, something about fate and a book. Look, honestly? Who gives a shit.  Tic murders a woman in coldblood and it’s never really touched on.  There’s a lot that could be said about militaries, oppression, etc, but we often see these characters enact violence and then the story skips merrily beyond it.  So yeah, he summarily executes a Korean woman and then is later shown torturing another, but it’s okay because he feels a little bad and fucks the Korean sex demon woman.  More on that later.   I felt nothing for him.  He didn’t have some deep animus over being a torturing war criminal.  He was just kind of moving through scenes and having confusing fights with his girlfriend/baby mama.

Letitia “Leti” Lewis

This is what empowerment shouldn’t look like. It amuses me that the show claimed to subvert some kind of norms when the primary love interest (and ultimate heroine) remains the lightest skinned sister in the room.  She is able to maintain the appeal of the ingenue while at the same time having the understood attractiveness of her complexion. As far as Leti is concerned as a character, she too seems to be a pretty shitty person.  We hear that she has “transactional” friendships and she seems pretty much all about self-survival and rarely if ever puts up where others do.  She’s a heroine in the sense that the story makes her be heroic, but it never addresses how her flaws are ultimately all self-inflicted and unnecessary.  She could just not be a shitty person.

Hippolyta Freeman

Well. Hidden Figures was an excellent film, and I think that’s where Hippolyta came from.  In a more serious series, perhaps she and her daughter could have had a very touching arc that would deal with survival and exceptionalism in a world that maligns you for your very being.  Unfortunately, in reality she just comes off as a character that’s quirky in a world that’s also quirky and she doesn’t get to harness her power. There’s an entire episode dedicated to how she discovers who she is and the result is well, her hair turns blue and she makes robots?  I think the character TYPE is great, but they misused her here in all ways.

George Freeman

Well, well.  If the series had remained about George, Tic, and Leti adventuring through America and encountering sundown towns and monsters both human and otherwise, I think it’d have been okay.  The issue is, they wrote this series by the numbers so George is immediately thrown away.  He’s a wise and circumspect guy that has his own flaws (he has patrarchical notions built around protecting/babying his genius wife, clearly), but the flaws he has are understandable and well reasoned. George dies early on.  Then he sort of doesn’t, I guess? But the fact he did was really the nail in the coffin for this series.  The moment they did that, the rest just became empty strokes.  A story where George witnessed the others dying and going back to his wife and daughter would have had so much more heart to it, but well.  Uncle George is literally one of the few bright spots.

Ruby Baptise

Much like her sister, Leti, Ruby is a terrible attempt at showing empowerent on the one hand, and a masterwork on the other.  The bad first: she’s a rapist.  I’ve been called a nigger before and while it didn’t feel great, I don’t think I’d have been justified in just sodomizing the person that did it.  That entire sequence was weird and they tried to hype it as her reclaiming something, when really it spoke to a disgusting and gratuitous tendency toward Ruby: she’s always too much. Ruby, IMO, should have been Tic’s love interest.  In a sense.  First, because Wunmi Mosaku was a very attractive woman with impressive acting chops (she’s where I’ll break my moratirum, sorry), but also because it wouldn’t be what you’d see in every other show now: light-skinned pretty sister, dark-skinned sexual eikon.  And that’s the issue with Ruby there: she’s always too much.  She’s sexual by existing and that isn’t necessarily to her benefit since Leti, the good one, is an actual virgin before her sudden period sex. So the narrative has already spoken as to how it views sex. Yet, because they tried to give Ruby these strange strokes, she comes out as an interesting character.  She has feelings, aspirations, and dreams that she’s kept from and that’s very real. In a story about the absurd, a sense of realness is a familiar handhold to gather your wits.  She’s all that, really.  It’s why she has the best relationships in the show, which is AGAIN an issue, but well. I’ll say Ruby was never bad to have on screen though I was disgusted with how often her blackess (and Blackness in general!) became the source of grotesque horror.

Christina Braithewaite

This is where I get annoyed.  My issue with Christina is that she should have easily been the most hated character, but they overplayed their hand with not showing how nefarious she was.  In fact? Christina and Ruby’s relationship is the only meaningful, real, and understandable one in the entire series.  I felt no joy during her downfall, because I didn’t really get to see her doing anything bad? Just, consider what the show is.  It’s about Lovecraft’s lore, ostensibly, which treats all non (specific types of) white men like dogs.  So Christina comes at it from the “white” but “woman” perspective and you know, she has moments of duality that you can say is she more white or woman here.  But they don’t execute on how sinister she should be.  She’s a little rude at times? Yet she is the only person to treat Ruby like she should be treated and she’s the only person that seems to have a goal outside of “the quest.” It really bothered me that she came out so well done, because either they needed to have her for two seasons and make her far more nefarious after the first, or to just make her less a force for good.  She saves the characters more than a few times and pays for it by being killed when she’s at her lowest.  Yeah, it’s... a weird take.  

Ji-Ah

What can I say?  There are depictions of sex in the series, and they’re all negative: most of Ji-Ah’s scenes, Montrose’s angry self-loathing sex with his boyfriend, Ruby’s morphic horror scenes.  In the case of most of those, there’s something being said.  Ji-Ah is a monster, literally, that could be seen as Lovecraftian in the sense she’s an exotic Asian woman that kills men that sleep with her.  So, HBO was like “we’ll blow our tits and ass budget on her,” and she exists for a series of sex scenes and vague, inscrutable... shit, maybe SHE is the most Lovecraft of all the characters! Anyway at some point she joins the party after confusing drama with Leti because they both fucked Tic.  It’s okay though, because Ji-Ah isn’t here for any of that now.  She’s the one who had the best friend that had her teeth yanked out by Tic, and also who was there when he shot her other friend in cold blood, but they get over that and she’s now their friendly red panda pal or some shit.  It’s fucking trash.   Much like the Freemans (sans Tic), I think she’d have done great in another show. But they rushed her story and it felt less Ghost Nation (Westworld) and more Masturbation (Jordan Peele).

Diana Freeman

Confusing.  A stock character (quirky kid that does art, is impetuous, and won’t take no for an answer) that is given a lot of screen time.  When she sort of hijacks an episode when two ragamuffin girls chase her down and infest her or something because racist cops.  Well, the story veers to her direction.  What can I say?  If you like 11 from Stranger Things but wanted her to have Mike’s attitude, well.  Here you go.

Montrose Freeman

He could have been a good character, I guess. He seemed unnecessary and often was there purely for an x-factor of “uh?”  Like, his infamous scene where he slits a two-spirit Native American’s throat after we learn that this indigenous person had just been restored after being raped by bad guys.  So there’s that.  Also I guess he was self-loathing so he beat his son (that may not be his son???) and also liked fucking dudes, which was I think where we were supposed to care about him. It’s like someone saw Omar was a gun-wielding desperado of drug theft and decided, “Well what made him okay is he’s gay!”  But it didn’t add much.  I get he was angsty but other than Tic calling him a “faggot” (one of the few good scenes between them in terms of emotion), it all seemed empty and kind of meandering. At no point does Montrose seem a part of the team.  He just half-mumbles, gets angry, cries, and falls apart.

Captain Seamus Lancaster

He’s barely a character, but I need to include him for another point. He’s the “bad guy.”  I guess?  He uses the bodies of black men to stay alive, which is actually a really smart reference to black bodies fueling the American system, but it comes off as cheesy because it just never comes up.  He’s cartoonishly bad in a way that he’s less sinister than a meme.  Compare him to say,   Ridgeway from Colson Whitehead’s The Underground Railroad. One’s a sinister representation of an oppressive system and the other’s well, a joke.

Racism

How could this not be a theme?  The issue, as was shown with Lancaster, is that it isn’t even remotely handled with seriousness.  The best scene of racism is in the first episode when Tic, George, and Leti are forced to leave a Sundown county before they’re lynched by the racist sheriff.  The anticipation and animosity lead to some serious anxiety and it was a nailbiter.

But after that?  White people say “nigger.”  Then they get, I don’t know, raped or spit on or who knows.  A lot of black people talk back to the cops anyway in the 50′s and that’s cool.

But the real monsters of the series are all black people.  Let’s go through it: 

Tic brutalized women in the Korean War.

Montrose killed the two-spirit person.

Ruby rapes the shop owner.

Diane crushes Christina’s throat.

Ruby literally sheds her flesh in repeatedly gratuitous acts of the grotesque.

Even Ji-Ah, who’s not black, is a monster in the literal sense.  We do see the doctor that experimented on black people, but that’s about 5 minutes at the end of an episode that has a baby’s head on a man’s body so I was too busy laughing at the absurdity to take any real meaning from it.

The truth is, in Lovecraft Country, white people always should do their best to kill or keep black people down.  It definitely doesn’t speak at all to any togetherness or what have you.  Just, well. Magical negroes doing bad stuff because nothing can stop them.

The show misses the chances to show real horror in race.  Hell, the Tulsa Riots are reduced to a backdrop for a confusing book scene.  But then again, Emmett Till becomes a kind of empty reference point that we then see a white woman act out... for some reason? 

Again, the only characters with any chemistry are Ruby and Christina, which is very unfortunate for any number of reasons. As far as a statement that racism is bad goes, I mean. I barely saw it.  If I was a racist I’d be like hell yeah, Lovecraft was right they are dangerous.

Even when people try to indicate the horrors of it like, “Oh, the Korean War scenes are bad because we see how men are forced into the military complex!”  We didn’t see a white officer say “Shoot her, boy,” it was just two black guys killing women with no care at all. And no compeuppance, so that’s cool.

The Music

Sucks.  Thanks Peaky Blinders for making modern music over gif sets a thing.

Conclusion

I sure as hell would never watch it again.  If I can get one other person not to, then maybe it’d be worth it. It’s not a good show.  It’s not “smart,” and there’s no secret subversion in it.  It’s just... bad.

I won’t post on it anymore.  Please, in true Lovecraft fashion, trust me when I say that this show is so bad it cannot be comprehended. 

[pilot-boi]

Crushing Hard

Jaune liked bars for the atmosphere, not for the alcohol. He couldn't drink after all. But sometimes the atmosphere wasn't exactly the safest. And somehow he always seemed to find the ones that weren't safe. And Ren couldn't always come to his rescue.

So if someone else swooped in to rescue him, like an avenging angle armed with a beer stein... Well he was a romantic. How could his heart hope to fight such a fairy tale moment?

He was having a stroke. Or a heart attack. This is what dying was like, right?

AO3 LINK

“You guys go on ahead,” Jaune said. “I’m going to take a breather.”

“At a bar?” Oscar asked, glancing back and forth between Jaune and the lopsided bar. “You can’t even drink.”

“He likes the atmosphere,” Ren said, pushing Oscar along. “We’ll catch up with you later.”

Jaune waved goodbye as the rest of his crew walked down the faintly lit street. They’d stopped on this small planet to get supplies and see the sights. It was nice, but they’d been walking for a few hours now, and Jaune was getting tired. None of the rest of the crew got exhausted as easily, but Jaune was human, and needed to rest his feet.

He also liked being alone sometimes. Jaune loved his crew. He and Ren had been on this adventure for nearly a year now. But he liked being by himself. Sometimes that was just spending a few minutes in a bar, or taking a pod out into space to look at the stars. Being alone, with just him and his thoughts was nice.

The bar was a hole-in-the-wall kind of place. Old lanterns hung from the ceiling, and the place was made out of ancient wood, giving the whole place a warm, cozy feel. The floor was sticky, and every piece of furniture was chipped and stained. 

The run-down look only added to the charm. It was obvious someone cared about this place, even if they couldn’t afford to keep up with renovations.

Jaune coughed as he inhaled some sort of smoke. The air was thick with it, but bearable once he got used to it. He pulled his jacket up to his mouth and walked over to the bar, taking a seat on a very creaky stool.

“Can I get some water?” he asked, lowering his makeshift mask.

The bartender raised their eyebrow at him but complied. Taking the glass of water, he started nursing it while looking around at the other patrons. It seemed to be mostly filled with regulars, all either drinking or smoking. Lively music played from several speakers hanging from the walls, and a handful of patrons danced together on a small stage.

As Jaune was scanning the bar, he noticed a woman standing near the back in the shadows. He couldn’t make out any of her features, but she stood in a way that indicated she definitely wasn’t one of the customers. Much too attentive and watchful. Totally a bouncer.

She looked his way, and he quickly looked back at his water.

“So what brings you around these parts?” the bartender asked, making light conversation.

“Just restocking our ship. Seeing the sights,” Jaune answered. Something about the bartender didn’t sit well with him.

“Oh? You here with others?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jaune was starting to wish he’d held out a little longer until they’d gotten to a nicer part of town. “Got a Graeldur with me. Big guy. Very scary.”

“I’m sure he is,” the bartender said, laughing jovially. “But you’ve got nothing to worry about here. Nikos-” he jerked his thumb to the woman Jaune had noticed earlier- “has got her eye on the place.”

Jaune looked back at the bouncer. She wasn’t watching him anymore. Instead, her eyes were fixed on a group of loud men who had just entered the bar.

“Junior! Get a round for me and the guys!” The leader of the group roared at the bartender. “The night is ours!”

The leader, a big Velm with a scruff of rusty red hair, sat down on the stool next to Jaune, causing his seat to creak and bend under his weight. They were clearly already drunk, the smell of beer and sweat saturating the air around them. 

Jaune felt miniscule next to them, his head reaching the shortest one’s elbow. He shrunk in on himself, attempting to go unnoticed by the newcomers.

There went Jaune’s quiet moment alone.

Junior handed out huge steins of beer to the cheers of the group. Jaune was nearly pushed off his stool as the leader raised his glass in the air. Scrambling to not fall onto the floor, he accidentally grabbed the man’s shirt.

He managed to stay upright, but at what cost?

The large man looked down at Jaune, who quickly took his hands off of his shirt and back onto the bar. If Jaune didn’t make eye contact, then it wasn’t a big deal. If Jaune just quietly slipped out of here then they wouldn’t care. If Jaune just…

The man grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to look at him. “What's your problem?” he asked, voice half-slurred. His breath was putrid, smelling like beer, and several other things Jaune didn’t want to think about. His lizard-like slitted pupils were blown wide with alcohol, but the measure of focus in them didn’t bode well for Jaune.

“I was just leav- ” Jaune tried to say, but was interrupted by the man taking a deep, long sniff, his eyes narrowing on Jaune.

“Gret,” he muttered. “You smell like a fuckin’ gret.”

“It must just be the atmosphere,” Jaune chuckled anxiously, trying not to make eye contact. “There are a lot of different aliens around here, I’m sure you’re just-”

“I know what I smelled, gret,” the man snorted. “Don'tchu try’n tell me what I’m smellin’.”

Before Jaune could say anything else, the man stood and slammed him against the wall. Jaune gasped, all the air leaving his lungs. “We don’t want your kind ‘round here,” he snarled, some spit flying out of his mouth and landing on Jaune’s face. It felt sticky, and Jaune would have gagged at the smell if he weren’t so focused on getting air back in his lungs.

“Get him!”

“Kick his ass, Cardin!”

“Show that gret what we think of his kind!”

Jaune closed his eyes, bracing for whatever came next. There was a moment, and then the hand holding him to the wall disappeared, letting him fall to the ground. Jaune’s eyes flew open to see the bouncer on top of the man’s shoulders, her legs choking him out and her one cyborg arm slamming into his head. 

Flaming red hair flew as the man squealed and struggled, attempting to shake Nikos off. She was grinning, a fierce light in her brilliant green eyes. The rest of his gang seemed stunned into silence for a moment, then began cheering their boss on.

“Show that bitch who’s boss!” One of them cheered, standing up. As the two passed the bar, Nikos snatched up one of the steins and flung it at the man. It hit his skull with a dull thunk and he was down. The rest of them thought better about trying the same thing.

Jaune was still stunned. He couldn’t move. His breath had returned, but he was still struggling to breathe. Nikos caught his eyes, flashing him a grin that made his heart stutter.

What the fuck was going on?

Nikos had grabbed another stein and was using it as a bludgeoning weapon, bashing against the leader’s thick skull and holding on with only her legs. He was trying desperately to pull her off, but having a thick glass beer stein slammed against his head was clearly having an effect on his motor functions. 

Eventually they got close enough to the wall that Nikos kicked off him, forcing his head to slam into the hard wooden surface.

He fell to the ground.

The rest of his gang seemed unsure of what to do. They glanced at each other, and then back at their boss. He had just been defeated by a woman not even half his size. In a panic, they all got up and ran out, two of them dragging their boss by his arms.

“Good work, Nikos,” Junior said, smiling cheerfully. He hadn’t even looked up from cleaning the glass in his hands.

She flashed him another grin, striding over to where Jaune was still slumped on the ground.

“Are you okay? He slammed you very hard there.” She offered him her biological hand with a smile.

“I- I’m good,” Jaune stammered, missing her hand once before finally getting a hold on it. It was rough and calloused around his own. She hoisted him to his feet.

“Those guys are horrible,” she said. “They’re in here all the time, always causing a ruckus. I’ve been waiting for a moment to beat them up. Thank you for the excuse.”

“You’re welcome?” Maybe he had hit his head a little harder than he first thought because things were starting to waver. He swayed a little, the lights bright.

“You don’t look okay,” Nikos said, helping him sit at one of the tables. “Stay here, I’ll get you some ice. You with anyone?”

“No I’m single,” Jaune was saying before he had time to screen his words. From behind the bar, Junior gave him a discerning look, but thank the gods Nikos didn’t seem to notice.

“M-my friends,” Jaune managed to stutter, after a moment of thinking of what she actually meant. “They’re not here though.”

“Okay. I’ll stay with you until they come back, then. Let me run into the back and get that ice, though.” Her smile was so bright. How was that possible for someone to look that happy after beating the absolute shit out of someone three times as big as them?

And why was his face feeling so warm every time she looked at him? His hands were shaking as he put them up to his forehead. He felt warm. Was he coming down with something? He couldn’t be. He was fine earlier.

Nikos returned with ice, which he eagerly pressed against his head. “Thanks,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

She sat next to him, leaning on the table with her elbow and her cheek cupped in her hand. Now that things had calmed down, he noticed that one of her eyes- along with her left arm- was robotic.

She noticed him staring. “You’ve never seen a cyborg before?”

“No! No, I have! I just… I just didn’t notice with all the fighting going on. You have a good… arm.”

Why the fuck did he say that?

She laughed, “Thanks? I lost it in an accident when I was younger. Wild animal attacked, but at least I got this arm and eye out of it.”

Silence fell between them. It felt natural, though. Almost like the silence you could share with someone you had known forever. Nikos signaled the bartender, “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Oh, I don’t drink,” Jaune said.

She arched an eyebrow at him. “But you’re in a bar?”

“I like the atmosphere.”

“But you don’t drink.”

“It, uh, it’ll kill me,” Jaune said, staring at his hands. “Alcohol. It’s toxic to me.”

“You get that from your other parent?”

Jaune nodded, wincing slightly.

“Don’t worry,” Nikos waved him off. “We aren’t all bigots like them. Having parents of different species is totally normal. This part of town is just… very backwards is all.”

“Yeah,” Jaune said, smiling. Why was he smiling? “I noticed.”

She laughed. Wow, she had a nice laugh. “Junior, can I have my usual and a glass of water for him?”

The bartender brought them each a drink. Water for Jaune, and some dark liquid for Nikos that smelled like citrus.

“Tea,” she explained, noticing Jaune’s quizzical expression. “I can’t drink on the job.”

“Makes sense.” He took a deep drink before realizing he’d never introduced himself. He choked on his water, coughing before getting out, “Oh shit, I’m Jaune by the way.”

“Pyrrha,” she said. “Pyrrha Nikos.” She extended her hand for a handshake. Jaune almost hesitated before taking it.

Pyrrha was a fantastic name.

“So what do you do?” she asked. “Other than getting beat up by purists.”

“Me and my crew do odd-jobs,” Jaune began. “Transports, saving people, sometimes pick-up work on planets we land on. Whatever comes our way.”

Pyrrha sighed and took a sip of her tea. “Wish I could do that,” she muttered. “I’ve been stuck on this stupid planet for years now. Same job. Same people. Day after day.”

“You could come with us,” Jaune said out of nowhere, surprising even himself. Why did he say that? He should talk to Ren first. Or Nora. He couldn’t just make decisions for the whole crew.

Pyrrha blinked in surprise before laughing, “Really? You barely know me.”

“Yeah, but you… uh… fight good,” Jaune stammered, looking for a convincing argument. “And we don’t have much muscle on board. We transport some valuable stuff sometimes. We could use a bodyguard.”

Pyrrha traced the edge of her glass with a finger. She seemed torn about something. He could practically see her fighting with herself before she looked up at him. “How do you feel about dogs?”

Jaune grinned. “I love dogs,” he said. “I’ve got a Dulcosi myself. Sweetest pup you’ll ever meet.”

The tension went out of Pyrrha’s shoulders. “Wait here.”

She stood up quickly and rushed up the stairs in the back. A few minutes later, she returned carrying a small golden dog in her arms. Three of the dog's legs were replaced with red metal cyborg replacements, and one of his eyes and part of his head was plated with metal.

“This is Milo!” Pyrrha sat down, scooting back slightly farther away from Jaune. The dog looked nervous, curling into Pyrrha and hiding his face in the crook of her arm. “He’s a little shy, but he is so sweet.”

“It’s okay, boy,” Jaune said, slowly extending his hand towards the puppy. Milo glanced at the strange hand and slowly removed his head from under Pyrrha’s arm. “That’s it. I’m nice, see? Nice Jaune.”

Pyrrha watched with wide eyes as Milo leaned in to sniff Jaune’s hand. He stayed still as the puppy inspected his hand and then began to lick it gently. Jaune giggled as Milo nudged his hand, letting him pet his head.

“He never warms up to anyone this fast,” Pyrrha said, clearly shocked.

“Maybe he smells Petey,” Jaune said. “She’s, uh, my Dulcosi.”

Pyrrha shook her head, “Milo was abused on the streets by other dogs and put into a fighting ring before I rescued him. He’s usually petrified around other people. He must really like you.”

“Guess it’s just my natural charm,” Jaune grinned, scratching behind Milo’s ear.

Pyrrha chuckled, and Jaune’s heart flipped again. Why did it keep doing that?

At that moment, Ren, Nora, and Oscar walked into the bar, looking around anxiously for Jaune. Once they spotted him, they all rushed towards him.

“This gang passed us and they said something about beating up a, uh, gret.” Ren coughed after saying the slur. “Are you okay? What happened?” Ren looked Jaune over, trying to find any sign of injuries from a fight.

“I’m fine,” Jaune shrugged him off. “Pyrrha saved me.”

Pyrrha waved. “Hello!” she said, smiling and making Jaune’s face feel warm again.

Nora noticed and started grinning. “Oh, did she?”

“Uh, guys, can we talk? Alone,” he added apologetically to Pyrrha.

“Talk things out with your crew.” She stood, gathering Milo into her arms. “It was nice meeting you, Jaune.” She patted his arm, every nerve in that spot screaming at him.

“Yeah, you too,” Jaune said, his voice breaking a little.

The moment she was out of earshot, he whipped around to Ren. “Can she come with us? Also my heart is pounding, my face feels hot, and I feel like every nerve in my body is alive. Am I coming down with something?”

Oscar snorted, “As your doctor, I can assure you, you are not.”

“Are you sure? Double check,” Jaune begged, but Nora punched his arm. Ouch.

“What was that about Pyrrha joining?” Ren interrupted.

“Oh, yeah! We don’t have much protection around the Berry, and no offense; you’re tough but you couldn’t hurt a fly.”

Ren huffed, but didn’t dispute this.

“So I was thinking she could join us. She took down two guys three times her size, and looked like she was having the time of her life doing it. Also… she’s nice. And she has a dog.”

Ren let out a low chuckle. “Alright,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re sure those are the only reasons you want her to join?”

Jaune narrowed his eyes. “Yes? What else would there be?”

Nora burst out laughing, walking away holding her stomach, “Oh wow.”

Oscar shook his head, smiling at Jaune. “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.”

Figure out what?! What was there to figure out?!

Continuing to narrow his eyes at his so-called friends, Jaune got up and walked to where Pyrrha was leaning against the bar, casually chatting with Junior. She stood up straight as he approached. Her eyes looked hopeful, but also reserved. She was ready for him to reject her.

“They said you could come,” Jaune said, smiling reassuringly. Pyrrha lunged forward, pulling Jaune into a tight hug.

“Oh, thank you!” she exclaimed. Jaune was stunned for a second, then hugged her back. “You have no idea what this means to me!” The embrace was over as quickly as it had begun, leaving behind a faint scent of metal and citrus. Jaune blinked. His face felt warm again, but he didn’t mind.

Pyrrha had scooped up Milo from off the bar stool he was sitting on. “I’ll go get my things,” she said, still beaming. “Junior?” The bartender only waved her off, huffing but smiling.

“I’ll find someone else to watch my bar,” he said, chuckling. “Go on now.”

Pyrrha probably would have given the old man a hug too if she hadn’t been holding Milo. Instead, she nodded and smiled at him, and then ran to the back and up the stairs, a spring in her step.

Jaune turned back to face his crew when it suddenly hit him.

Oh fuck.

Pyrrha was cute.

He liked Pyrrha.

He liked Pyrrha a lot.

Ren and Oscar were both smiling knowingly, while Nora was bent over double laughing. Those bastards!

At that moment Pyrrha appeared next to him, a pack slung over her shoulders and Milo in her arms. “I’m ready!”

“Okay!” His voice squeaked like a pubescent 12-year old.

She gave him a weird look.

“Don’t worry about Jaune,” Ren said, holding the door open for her. “He’s just coming to terms with some new developments in his life.”

“Okay?” Pyrrha said, chuckling with confusion. “I don’t know what that means, but sure.” She smiled at Jaune again before practically bouncing out the door.

She needed to stop doing that. Jaune’s heart couldn’t take it.

Everyone left until it was just Jaune bringing up the rear. As he exited the bar, Junior called after him.

“Take care of that girl, you hear me?” the old man called, smiling conspiratorially.

Jaune gave the man a thumbs up.

The trip back to the Berry took no time. Jaune trailed along after everybody, listening to Nora ramble about their adventures and Oscar talk about the ship. He felt like he had just run a marathon, and he was dead last. It didn’t matter who came in first, but he was the last one to see the finish line.

They boarded the Berry. Petey greeted them, climbing all over them in her excitement. Milo froze in Pyrrha’s arms, and she stepped away from the excited dog.

“Maybe we’ll take that introduction slow,” she said.

Ren nodded, ushering Petey into another room.

“This is our home!” Nora said, spinning in a circle with his arms spread wide. “Jaune sometimes leaves his dirty socks ev-” Jaune slapped his hand over Nora’s mouth.

“I keep the Berry nice and clean,” Jaune said, forcing a smile that wished only pain upon Nora. “And my dirty socks go in the laundry, where they belong.”

Nora squirmed out of his grasp. Pyrrha giggled, peering around a corner and letting Milo down onto the floor. Jaune thanked every deity that he could think of that he had cleaned the Berry last week.

“It’s nice,” she said. “Um, weird question. Do you have a room with good ventilation?”

“Yeah, down the hall that way. Why?” Oscar asked.

“It’s right next to Jaune’s room!” Nora exclaimed before Jaune could tackle her down again.

“I make things,” she said. “Sculptures usually, metal working. Just out of spare parts I find. I need a room with good ventilation for the welding fumes.”

“Oh, cool!” Oscar said. “Let me show you around.”

“Jaune would like to go with you!” Nora skipped out of Jaune’s grasp, making her way towards her room. “And I have to go. For other unrelated reasons.” She winked and stuck out her tongue at Jaune before slipping down the hall.

“Come on,” Oscar took Pyrrha’s hand. “Ignore them. We can set you up in the room next to your welding room.”

Jaune was torn between following them and not following them. He ended up just sort of… leaning towards them.

“You’re a mess,” Ren laughed. “Come on, let’s get dinner going.”

Jaune took one last look at Pyrrha’s retreating figure. “Yeah, sure,” he said, hardly paying Ren any attention. He followed Ren slowly.

“You got it bad,” Ren said when they reached their kitchen, pulling down a pot and getting some water boiling. “What’s so special about her?”

Jaune shook his head, taking a seat at the kitchen island, “You should have seen it, dude. I was pinned against the wall, about to have my skull smashed like a pancake. 

He waved his hands around vaguely. “There was no way I could have gotten myself out of it. I was ready to get my ass handed to me…  and then she just came out of nowhere. It was… angelic.” He sighed, leaning his chin on his hand.

Ren snorted, “Angelic?”

“Avenging angel, angelic. She was choking that brute with her legs, while bashing his brains in with a beer stein. She was having fun too! God… she just destroyed them.” Jaune smiled wistfully, conjuring up the scene again in his mind.

“Hand me that?” Ren gestured to a spoon. “Lucky you. I would have hated to come back to find you a pancake.”

“Me too,” Jaune said, absentmindedly grabbing the spoon and handing it to Ren. “Do… do you think she likes me?”

“Who knows,” Ren said, throwing some pasta into the water. “Just don’t be weird about it, okay?”

“What?” Jaune sat up straight. “I’m not weird. I won’t be weird about it. Why would I be weird about it? I’m never weird about anything.”

Ren only shook his head. “If you say so.”

Pyrrha and Nora walked into the room chatting like they’d been friends for years. Jaune slammed his elbow onto the table, attempting to look casual. “You like your room?”

“It’s great,” Pyrrha said. She sat down next to him, touching his arm. “Honestly, thank you for letting me join your team. It means a lot to me.”

Jaune grinned as he felt his face warm up again. “Ye-yeah, no problem.” He stuttered out, He really needed to get that under control. “Thanks for saving me back there.”

Ren chuckled, continuing to stir the noodles he had put into the pot. “And thanks in advance for all the saving you’ll no doubt have to do in the future. Jaune has a habit of, uh, getting himself into unsavory situations.”

Pyrrha laughed.” I’ll look forward to that then.”

[larksthighs]

Paranoid

hi guys, I tried a first-person POV this time, I hope you like it haha

word count: 1,771

masterlist

Paranoia would be one word to describe it, but can you blame me? In the past two months, six of my either high school or college friends have passed away, including two in the last two weeks. Whether it be by overdose, car accident, or just some freak of nature, my friends have slowly been disappearing one by one.

It’s been a rough couple of months, I figured that after going through so many deaths, it’d be easier to accept the new ones, but it just got harder every time. Every new death felt like a kick to the chest, seeing the friends I grew up with being lowered six feet under.

While this whole situation devastating, I still do my best to continue my everyday cycle. Having moved from Mississippi to Calgary after meeting Matthew, it’s much easier to not completely drown in the sadness that I’m sure would follow me had I been home surrounded by the families and loved ones of my friends who died.

Being surrounded by my friends and boyfriend in Calgary had also been a big help. My friends never fail to put a smile on my face and they make sure that I don’t start drowning in the grief, but the biggest help throughout all of this has been my boyfriend Matthew.

Matthew has been there through every single death and has been my rock through it all. He’s laid with me in bed as I cried my eyes out for hours. Stroked my hair and helped calm me down, helped me catch my breath, ensured that I stayed hydrated and had plenty of tissues. On some of the bad days, he sat by me and made sure I ate, even if it was just a few crackers to hold me over.

He stayed by my side on the days when I pushed the bad news to the back of my mind and acted as if nothing was wrong. He made sure not to push me and he didn’t try to pity me on the days when I acted this way, knowing that if he treated me as if I was fragile and weak that I’d most likely break down.

To say I’ve been paranoid is an understatement. Matthew has been my rock the past two months and I care about him so much, the thought of anything happening to him makes my blood run cold. Without him here I genuinely believe I would completely fall apart, my heart has so much love for him that it almost hurts.

Tonight the Flames were playing the LA Kings and I was already feeling nervous, knowing that Drew Doughty and Matthew didn’t necessarily have the best history with each other. A bad fight or nasty hit is the last thing I want to see at the moment.

“Hey babe, I’m heading out now,” I heard Matthew yell from the kitchen. I made my way downstairs and walked up to him, straightening his tie.

“Be careful tonight,” I say while wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my face into his chest.

“Always am,” he says and I can clearly hear the smirk in his voice. I scoff and then lean back and look up at him, rolling my eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” I say. He chuckles and leans down, planting a kiss on my forehead. He then looks into my eyes and I see his demeanor soften.

“I’ll be careful, don’t worry about me, okay?”

“I’ll try not to, now go kick some ass,” I say after giving him a quick kiss. He starts walking towards the door and I slap his ass on the way out, earning myself a playful glare as I laugh at him.

After he closes the door I walk up to our bedroom to start getting ready. I make the bed and straighten up a little bit first, knowing that I still have about two hours before I should get to the game. After straightening up I walk over to the closet and throw on some black jeans and a black hoodie with my Tkachuk jersey on over it. I walk into the bathroom and straighten my hair and apply a light layer of makeup. If there’s one thing I learned through all of this, it’s that looking good does actually make you feel better, no matter how cheesy that sounds.

I walk downstairs to make myself a snack before I head to the game. I’m sure afterward Matty and I will go grab something or get takeout so I try to not eat before games. I pour myself a bowl of cereal and grab my phone, scrolling through my social media when I got a call from an unknown Calgary number. Remembering the number of spam calls I’ve been getting recently, I decline it and start scrolling through my Instagram again, only to receive another call from the same number.

“Hello?” I ask while putting my bowl in the sink, having already finished all of my cereal while scrolling through Instagram.

“Hi, is this Kendall Taylor?”

“Yes this is she, may I ask who’s calling?” I question the man on the phone, confused at who it is and how he could possibly know my name.

“I’m calling about Matthew Tkachuk, he got into a car accident and is on the way to the hospital right now and you were his emergency contact,” the man on the other end of the phone says. I felt my stomach clench and my chest get tight.

“Is he okay?” I ask with a shaky voice, bracing myself for bad news, knowing that I can’t handle much more of it.

“He’s okay, just a head laceration and possibly a broken arm or collarbone, he’s heading over to Rockyview General Hospital right now if you’d like to meet him there.”

“Yes sir, thank you so much,” I say and then hang up, quickly sliding my feet into my converse before heading out of the house. I get in my car and book it to the hospital, driving as fast as I can without getting a ticket.

I know the officer said he was okay, but there’s still that hint of paranoia in the back of my mind. They said Trevor was okay when he got back from rehab and two months later I had to watch him being lowered into the ground. They said Amber was okay after her car accident but she died from a brain bleed that they somehow missed. Recently I’ve been hearing a lot of “it’s okay” and these recent cases don’t have a good track record of actually being okay.

Matthew has a head laceration, which could mean he has a concussion, which could mean he has permanent brain damage. His broken arm or collarbone could lead to surgery which could lead to him dying. Obviously, there’s a slim chance, but there’s always the chance that when you go under the knife, you may not wake up. Or he could wake up but not be able to fully recover and his hockey career would be over, which would be devastating to him.

These thoughts consumed me as I pulled into the hospital parking lot and I quickly got out of the car and made my way to the front desk. After getting my visitor’s pass and finding out what room he’s in, I make my way upstairs to go find him. I hate seeing my loved ones in hospitals, hell, I don’t even like to see Matthew in the training room getting stitched up after games, I don’t know how I’m going to handle this.

As I approach his room from down the hall I see a doctor walk out and give him a nervous smile before opening the door and walking in. Matthew was laying on the hospital bed with a pretty deep cut on his forehead that they had just stitched up and his arm in a cast. Upon seeing him, I immediately start tearing up. Seeing that he is okay and right in front of me lifted a weight off of my shoulders that I didn’t fully register was there.

“Hey baby,” Matthew says softly, holding open his uninjured arm for me to give him a hug. I walked up to him and wrap my arms around his waist, nuzzling my face into his neck. Tears start falling down slowly as I start thinking of the fact that if something went worse tonight, I wouldn’t have this anymore.

“Hey, hey, hey, why are you crying?” Matthew asks with a concerned look, slightly pushing me back a little so he can look into my eyes. He gives me a gentle kiss that’s full of love before pulling back and wiping the tears off of my cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I’m being a little baby,” I say while wiping my cheeks with the sleeves of my jersey, “you just got in a car accident and you’re worried about ME.” I chuckle and then take a moment to pull myself together before trying to talk again. “It’s just… with everything going on recently I’ve been so paranoid and when I got the call… Matty, I’ve never felt my heart drop so fast. It felt like a kick to the chest. You’ve been there for me through everything and the thought of you not being there… it’s scary.”

“Baby, I’m not going anywhere, I promise,” he says while pulling me down to lay by his side, “I know it’s been a hard few months and I’m sorry that I had you worried.”

“Babe, what? Don’t be sorry, this isn’t your fault, I’m just happy that you’re okay, did the doctor say exactly what’s wrong with you?”

Matthew starts running his fingers through my hair and responds, “Just a couple of bruises, a broken arm, a cut on my head, and a mild concussion, nothing new, eh?”

He’s definitely right about that one, playing hockey has definitely led him to these injuries before, just not usually all at once, so I still feel bad for him. I look up and frown, reaching up and lightly cupping his face, rubbing his cheek with my thumb, “I hate seeing you in pain.”

“Babe, I’m fine. Plus, the pain meds are great, we should ask if we can buy some for home,” he says while poking my side, making me squirm, “besides, I definitely am not protesting having you nurse me back to health, maybe you can even wear a nurse outfit.”

I scoff and roll my eyes, “Sure, keep dreamin’ big boy.”

“Oh, I definitely will.”

[enigmawrappedinhypocrisy]

Wellness- Rex- 1

*Fandom- Star wars

*Pairings- Captain Rex x Togruta oc/reader 

*Warnings- SFW, slight fluff, talk of death/fears, therapy kinda, self indulgent, this probably doesn’t make sense... and is the first thing I wrote in a looong while... 

Summary- Captain Rex, unable to sleep, goes to a ‘wellness center’ (to be named later maybe) and meets a cute togruta girl.

Part 1 [here] Part 2 part 3 

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The first time Rex went to her it was at Fives’ insistence. He hadn’t had a full nights sleep for as long as he could remember, but after some of the recent battles he found any rest impossible to attain. Lately his nightmares were unbearable, and his brain just wouldn’t shut off. Thoughts of his brothers dying always in the forefront of his mind. 

Fives had raved about the girls at the so-called ‘wellness center’ and their amazing abilities, but standing here in the lobby Rex found himself feeling silly. He didn’t need help… he just needed to suck it up… Like he was trained to… like he was made to... As he turned to leave, a melodious voice called out to him. 

“Oh, sorry I didn’t know anyone was here” it speaks softly. 

Before him stood an adult Togruta female, with pink colorings and a soft curvy body. She seemed gentle and inviting and exudes an air of safety. Rex was surprised to find her nearly fully dressed having expected this place to be more like a strip club the way Fives talked about it. 

“I’m sorry, it’s late, I’ll just come back- uh- later” Rex excuses himself knowing full well he had no intention of returning… this was a stupid idea.

He, again, was stopped by her voice.  

*

It was late and the pink togruta was closing up for the night. It had been a long day and the girl was looking forward to heading home, warming up some leftovers, and snuggling in to watch the new program everyone had been talking about. 

Nearly finished with her closing duties, she came to the lobby only to squeak in surprise finding a man standing there. 

She could tell several things immediately… He was a clone trooper, he was uncomfortable, He was very handsome, and her dinner would have to wait. 

With a smile she called to him, hiding her frown when the look of panic flashes across his eyes. 

She could tell he was in a constant state of alertness, something she and her coworkers saw frequently with their clients. The people that came here tended to live the high danger lifestyles of soldiers, bounty hunters, and the like. They were often consumed by the lifestyle, and the dangers that came with it. 

As the man stumbled through an apology the girl felt her heart tug. This man was too sweet to be suffering as much as he was. 

“Nonsense. My name is Vela, and i’m here to help… Follow me” She cajoles in her softest voice and leads the soldier back through the door she came from.

*

Rex couldn’t explain why he chose to follow her, he really just wanted to leave, but as she led him into a room unlike any place of healing he had ever been he felt better somehow. 

Used to stark white rooms with shiney chrome fixtures this was a jarring difference. 

This room was soft, warm and smelled like something he couldn’t place. There were heavy curtains that hung everywhere and soft pillows littered the place. Candles cast a soft glow and soft music was playing from somewhere.  

The togruta took a seat in the middle of the room. Rex stood there awkwardly… this was strange.

“It’s alright- tell me what troubles you” She questions warmly, hoping to ease him into more comfort. 

With a sigh, Rex takes a seat before her; he struggles to find a comfortable position for a few moments, not used to such a laid back situation. Rex was good with orders, and protocols. Standing at attention and ‘yes sirs’. Sitting on the floor with a stranger and revealing all his weaknesses was new to him, and new was scary. 

But he hadn’t slept in days and was willing to try something scary now if it meant a bit of peace later in the night. 

Vela was patient, she knew he wanted to talk, he just needed to get over whatever was holding him back. So she begins prompting him to talk to her. 

“What’s your name?” She questions softly. 

“Captain Rex, ma’am, of the 501’st” he answers automatically. 

Taking a shot Vela begins to talk, “You know sometimes I have these terrible nightmares...” She watches his expression for hints and clues- pleased to find him nodding in understanding. 

“My brothers and I do too” Rex finds himself sharing, unsure why. 

“In my worst nightmares I find myself unable to help the people I care about… they get hurt and I can’t stop it” She reveals, a frown framing her face. “I’m afraid for them, my sisters, my parents… the people that come to see me here...” 

Rex nods, taking a pillow in his hands, something to ground him as he prepares to expose the fears that keep him up at night. 

“I’ve lost so many brothers to this war” he speaks, trying to keep his voice steady, “and I know i’ll lose more… I can’t stop that” He looks past her at nothing squeezing the pillow to try and keep himself composed. 

“That’s such a terrible thing to deal with” Vela frowns, it’s not a story she hasn’t heard before but is one that hurt her deeply each and every time she had. 

She reaches forward and somehow eases the man to shift, laying back with his head in her lap. The pink togruta strokes the soldier’s forehead in an attempt to ease his mind. 

“I’m so sorry for you” her hands were warm and her voice gentle.

Rex found himself relaxing despite everything in his head screaming how wrong this was. He just met her... this was weak... this was stupid... it felt good when she did those little scratches... it was probably breaking all sorts of rules... she smelled nice... he was in a vulnerable position and she could be a threat… 

“Tell me about a happy memory you have,” she prompts, happy to see the man’s eyes flutter close and a smile tug on his lips. 

He tells her about the time they had a practice battle for team building. How Fives and Hardcase took it as a personal challenge to ‘shoot’ the jedi. Eventually they found themselves with damaged practice guns, cut in half, by very real lightsabers when General Aniken also got a little carried away. 

Vela laughed with Rex who had forgotten how funny his brothers faces were as their guns fell apart, and how disapproving General Kenobi’s expression was as he watched from the sidelines. 

He remembers how they went out to celebrate at 79’s later that night and several of his brothers spent hours hitting on the pretty waitress who ignored them all only to eventually leave with Echo. 

Vela tells Rex about the mischief her younger sisters would get into when they were growing up. How she would always catch them, doing something wrong, and cover in front of her parents. 

The two spent some time in comfortable silence during which Rex nearly found himself lulled to sleep, Vela’s hands stroking his head, face, and neck gently. 

It was this time when Vela’s stomach decided to growl, reminding her of her previous plans.

Spell instantly broken, Rex pulled away and sat up. He began to apologize about the time but froze when he saw her face. She was mortified, her cheeks a dark pink as she bit her lip. She looked at him with wide eyes and Rex couldn’t help but stare… she was so cute. 

This girl who seemed more like a mother this whole time now looked young and innocent before him. He wanted to hug her, protect her, and make her smile again.

It wasn’t until her stomach growled again that the trance was broken and Rex realized his thinking was wrong… he stood, “I should go- i’ve taken up enough of your time” 

“No, please, it’s okay really, I should be the one apologizing” Vela scrambled to get up, fussing with her clothes once she had. 

“No, thank you, I feel very- I think this helped a lot” Now it’s Rex’s turn to fight a blush as he avoids looking at the girl. 

“I’m glad to be of service” Vela smiles gently, “Please come back if you ever need more…” she bites her lip. “...Help”  

Rex nods at the girl in understanding before leaving. 

Once home, Rex finds himself with something nice to think about for a change. He falls right asleep and has pleasant dreams of the sweet Togruta girl and her soft touches.

Vela, however, found herself tossing and turning all night, as thoughts of the handsome clone captain consumed her dreams… 

Part 2 Part 3 

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