#pardon my molecules

[rosanna-writer]

Karma Is My Boyfriend (1/?)

Summary: Elain Archeron saved countless lives by vanquishing Graysen Nolan, her literal demon of a fiancé. She's a hero, but it's just not fair that being a good witch destined to rid the world of evil has left her tragically, painfully single. Enter Lucien Vanserra, the best cupid in the business, who's been sent by the universe to balance the karmic scales and find Elain the perfect new partner…

Happy Elucien Week! A huge thank you to @popjunkie42 for beta-reading, and my playlist for this fic can be found here. I'm so excited to participate in @elucienweekofficial; we're so lucky to have such a dedicated team of event runners!

Read on AO3 or under the cut!

The new energy in Elain's shop was too sweet to be demonic. It set her teeth on edge—artificial strawberry, discount chocolate, cards fashioned out of glitter glue and construction paper. Nothing at all like the gentle, soothing aura created by the plants lining the aisles of Roots 'n Shoots. Elain felt it following her like a bad smell as she repotted new shipments, packaged online orders, and upsold premium fertilizer to customers who'd wandered in.

By lunchtime, she'd resolved to get rid of it.

Whatever magic was hanging around didn't seem to be a threat, but she hadn't survived three years of fighting evil by taking chances.

She had half a mind to call her sisters for backup; even though Elain was a powerful witch, her premonitions of the future weren't nearly as effective for self-defense as Nesta's telekinesis or Feyre's ability to cause explosions with her mind. But whatever was hanging around didn't seem malicious. Just…cloying.

Elain let her intuition guide her and followed the strange feeling to its source. She walked slowly down an aisle of tall, leafy ferns and kept her eyes peeled.

There—through the leaves, a flash of red. Every molecule in her body seemed drawn right to it, like a compass and a magnetic pole. She hurried towards it.

The flash of red turned out to be long auburn hair pulled into a messy bun. Elain couldn't help but notice the way it gleamed in the sun as she gently pushed a fern leaf to the side to get a better look at the culprit…

And found a mechanical eye staring back.

She squeaked in surprise and jumped backward. The leaf rustled gently as it fell back into place. On instinct, Elain reached deep into her well of power, the same way she did just before vanquishing a demon.

"Well, hello there," the man purred from the other side of the fern.

"Can I help you find something?" Elain said.

He smiled at her in a way that could only be described as radiant. He was gorgeous, and the jagged scar running down the side of his face only seemed to enhance his beauty. Before Graysen, Elain would already have been fluttering her lashes at him.

Now, she just glared in suspicion.

"I think I've found exactly what I'm looking for," he said, which did nothing to set her at ease, even though his expression had gone heartbreakingly soft.

Before Elain could demand answers, he winnowed over to the aisle where she was standing. A risky move—he was lucky there were no mortal customers while the store was closed for her lunch hour.

"Not a single butterfly in that stomach of yours. This is going to be a tough case," he said thoughtfully. He cocked his head, staring at Elain like she was a particularly difficult puzzle he was trying to solve.

"I beg your pardon?" Elain said tightly.

He began circling her like a predator, mechanical eye clicking and whirring. Elain huffed in frustration as her hands settled on her hips. Her strange visitor might not have been a demon, but she didn't have time for anything supernatural with so many orders to fill by the afternoon.

"The meet-cute I engineered just now was some of my best work, but it didn't get your heart fluttering at all. That ex-fiancé left you with quite the wound, didn't he?"

For the last year, Elain walked around with a ragged hole in her heart that refused to close, and to add insult to injury, the entire magical world knew everything about her literal ex from hell. "If you're here to discuss Graysen Nolan, get out of my shop," she said with all the venom she could muster.

"I'm here for you, Elain."

"If you're not an innocent in need of protection, it has to wait."

"Put me to work while we talk, then. I can multitask," he said with an elegant shrug.

She hesitated. The smartest course of action still seemed to be ordering this stranger out of her store, but...she could use the help. And at least he wasn't evil.

Gods, had her standards really sunk that low?

"At least tell me your name." It was irritating that he already seemed to know hers.

He sketched a bow. "Lucien Vanserra, at your service."

"The only service I require at the moment is someone to water my pothos," Elain said with a meaningful nod towards a watering can and row of plants towards the back of the room.

To her surprise, Lucien began filling the watering can without a single complaint. For a moment, Elain watched, telling herself it was to make sure he was doing it correctly—and not at all because he was absurdly beautiful.

She forced herself to turn her attention back to organizing the cards with handwritten care instructions that Roots 'n Shoots included with every houseplant they sold. She could have saved herself time and printed them, but the personal touch was exactly the sort of thing that kept customers coming back to her instead of the big box garden supply store down the road. As she worked, they lapsed into a silence that was almost companionable.

But just as Elain started to relax, Lucien went and opened his mouth again."I thought there might have been an error when the file they gave me said you hadn't had any new partners since Graysen, but now I can see why."

She stilled. "What file?"

"The file that every cupid gets when they're assigned a new charge."

A cupid. Well, that certainly explained why his aura didn't feel demonic, just sickly sweet. Elain had never crossed paths with a cupid before, and she'd been under the impression they were supposed to be a bit more…cute .

"I'm one of your charges?" Technically, Elain was already someone's charge—even after Cassian had broken the rules and married Nesta, he'd remained the guardian angel assigned to protect the Archeron sisters after they'd learned they were witches tasked with ridding the world of evil.

"My only charge, actually. The elders insisted I focus on you and only you, Elain."

"And to what do I owe that honor?"

"You saved the world, and what goes around comes around, sweetie. Offing your demonic fiancé earned you the best and brightest cupid's help with finding a doting new partner."

Lucien said it as if she were supposed to fall over herself in gratitude. But she had half a mind to slap him for the audacity to think he could just waltz into her place of business and treat her like a charity case he'd magnanimously offered to take on.

"A partner is the last thing I need." Elain and her sisters had spent the last several nights rounding up a rogue band of crossroads demons that had been plaguing Velaris's intersections. Casting the vanquishing spells on each street had taken hours, leaving her with precious little time to eat, sleep, and run her store.

It had been the same with the succubi last week, the rabid werewolves the week before, and the banshees they'd spent a whole month rooting out. These days, going on a date was unthinkable.

Lucien rolled his eyes. "You're certainly not going to attract one with that attitude."

That, Elain decided, would be the end of the conversation. She was an Archeron, one of the three most powerful witches ever to walk the earth—not someone who'd allow herself to be condescended to.

All it took was one half-hearted wave of her hand, as if she were brushing away a fly, to activate the wards she'd placed around the shop. Twin vines of pure magic grew from the ceiling, hoisted Lucien up by the armpits, yanked him across the room, and dropped him unceremoniously onto the sidewalk outside. The spell wouldn't let him back in until she changed her mind.

Hopefully, that would be the last she'd hear from Lucien Vanserra.

***

As soon as she got home, Elain marched straight up the stairs of the Archeron manor. She and her sisters had inherited the house—along with their powers and mandate to protect the innocent—three years prior, and the Book of Shadows that never left the attic had guided them through all of it. Instructions for spell casting, potion recipes, taxonomies of every magical creature they might possibly come across…the Book contained it all.

The worn leather bindings creaked as Elain opened it and began searching for the entry on cupids. There wasn't an index; the ancient book was a work in progress by generations of Archeron witches, which meant it was a disorganized mess on a good day. Sometimes, wind would gust from nowhere and just so happen to flip the book to the correct page, but today, she had no such luck.

Hello, Elain.

She jumped, nearly dropping the Book. In her rush to find the entry on cupids, she hadn't noticed the bat hanging upside down from a rafter.

Rhysand—her other, non-angelic brother-in-law. He was a bat shifter that roosted in the attic while the manor had been empty, and though Nesta had been fully prepared to call animal control the night they'd discovered him, Elain had felt horrible throwing him out of his home. But since their family had lost their fortune, the manor was badly in need of expensive repairs, so Feyre struck a bargain: Rhys could stay as long as he paid rent and kept quiet.

He'd married the youngest Archeron sister within a year.

"I'm sorry if I woke you," Elain said aloud. Even after years of wielding magic of her own, she'd never gotten used to Rhys's way of speaking mind-to-mind, a power that allowed him to communicate even when he wasn't in a form with proper vocal cords.

He shifted, wings and fur disappearing as he turned back into a man. The claws stayed in place so Rhys could remain inverted—he claimed it did wonders for his back pain.

"You didn't," he said, "and if there's something urgent, I can call Feyre for you."

"It's nothing demonic. At least, I don't think. Do you know anything about cupids?"

Rhys cocked his head, violet eyes sparking with interest. "I've crossed paths with a few over the centuries. They're harmless."

"Are they all that arrogant?"

"Not in my experience."

Elain bit back a frustrated sigh and turned the Book's pages a little more forcefully than necessary. It was bad enough that the Powers That Be had decided that after Graysen, she was so tragically, painfully single that it required divine intervention, but they'd gone the extra mile and sent their biggest asshole of a cupid to "fix" her, too.

"Hopefully there's still a spell I can cast to keep him away."

"Did someone bother you?" Rhys's voice went cold, and suddenly he sounded less like the brother-in-law she badgered about remembering to recycle and more like the terrifying Lord of Nightmares he also was. Elain smiled; it was sweet, in a way—Rhys was fiercely protective of the people he loved.

"Yes, but not like that. Don't go crushing minds on my account."

"What happened?"

"A cupid named Lucien came to my shop today and said he'd been sent to help me find a new partner."

"And I assume you didn't take him up on the offer?"

Elain shook her head. She'd finally found the entry on cupids, which was barely a paragraph long: Benevolent. Responsible for connecting the worthy with their true love.

The worthy. Elain certainly didn't feel worthy, not after her love for Graysen had deluded her into thinking a demon could change. In the end, she'd done the right thing and vanquished him, but…making that choice had nearly torn her apart. She'd come so close to letting him live.

It had been nearly a year, and the sight of Graysen pleading for his life still haunted in her dreams.

"If you hated him that much, I'm sure the cupid elders could always send you another," Rhys said with a wry smile.

"I don't need a cupid. Business is booming at Roots 'n Shoots, and I have my hands full with protecting innocents and corralling you, Feyre, Cassian, and Nesta. That's more than enough for me."

"Being busy is all the more reason to accept expert help."

Elain closed the Book of Shadows and glowered at her meddling bastard of a brother-in-law. Rhys smirked back.

She started to go, but a pair of massive, membranous wings erupted from Rhys's back, allowing him to release his talons from the rafter, glide upwards, then land on his feet in one smooth movement. Elain crossed her arms, waiting for him to get out of her way once he'd shifted completely back into his human form.

Despite the irritation that was probably rippling off her in waves, Rhys's expression softened. "More than anyone else I know, you deserve to be happy, Elain. Even if you don't feel like you do."

A lump formed in Elain's throat. That meant a lot, coming from Rhys, who was always staring at Feyre like he couldn't believe his luck. "Love you," she said.

"Love you, too."

Despite all that love, he still didn't move, continuing to block her path to the attic's only exit. "I'm sensing a 'but,' though," Elain said.

"I should warn you that if you don't give things with that cupid a shot, Feyre might try matchmaking you herself. And if Feyre does, then so will Nesta…" He trailed off, letting the implications of her sisters teaming up hang in the air.

"Blackmail is immoral." She felt obligated to point it out, though pesky little things like ethics rarely stopped Rhys.

"Immoral and effective," he said, flashing her one last grin before disappearing into the shadows with a gentle gust of night-kissed wind.

[can-of-w0rmz]

@dietw0rmz

“Modern day morals” I’d like to call it universal fucking morals considering the guy was convicted in court and sentenced to two years prison, and what I’m expecting by bringing that up is for people to have a molecule of fucking brains enough to apply this context to the man and his work, instead of blatantly ignoring it and exclusively applying the context that he happened to be homosexual, leading to VERY common notions in the modern day that all he was convicted for was homosexuality, which is an extreme problem because it’s blatant widespread historical misinformation that leads to the idealisation of a FUCKING PEDOPHILE! Yeah, maybe that’s what I’m expecting. The man was pardoned by the Irish government semi-recently, that’s disgusting to me. I CONSTANTLY see people idealising the guy and not taking into account his extremely real actions, because they genuinely just didn’t know. Genuinely, it’s a problem:

Don’t be a fucking idiot and use your god damn brain. “What are you gonna do, contact him with a oujia board and tell him he’s fucking cancelled?” Oh my bad, you’re so right, Hitler fucking shot himself in the head and he’s long dead now, so that means we can’t talk about it anymore. Totally not like history has a lasting effect on people and culture! Wise yourself up. Don’t be fucking stupid.

[strawberyblogs]

Genshin Impact Alhaitham x GN! Reader - Love Letters 🍉

Background: Y/N currently resides in the boundaries of Mondstadt. Alhaitham (frequently referred to as Al) is on a lengthy obligation in Sumeru. Although separated by distance, the two lovers communicate through letter.

July 3rd

To my beloved Al,

In these past evenings, I've found myself wandering without your presence; therefore, I decided to write you this epistle. Although I gave you my word that I would obtain ways to keep myself company, these sweltering days make it taxing. A typical day for me doesn't begin till almost an hour before noon. Of course, I awake much before that; however, I am simply enamored with The Pale Princess and the Six Pygmies and spend at least a few hours each day reading and rereading the novel. Do you recall when you first retrieved such a gift for me? Oh, of course not! Do not believe that I doubt your intelligence; it's simply the fact that you gather so many artifacts for me on your various journeys. You must think that these gifts are just silly toys for me; however, each one has its own place on my mantlepiece. Oh dear, I feel that I have gone on and on about only myself. Please realize that it seems as if there's not a molecule in my body not possessed by my longing for you. In my evenings without you, I find my way to Stormbearer Point in remembrance of the times we'd spent there together. But I do admit that during my moments atop that hill, the small of my waist feel rather empty, and my fingers now only may interlock with loneliness. These tepid summer nights feel quite comforting, but they do not replace the warmth your body once exerted against mine. Despite my deep longing for your touch, I must acknowledge that I have been sleeping quite well. I'm quite impressed by my ability to finally put pen to paper; however, this shall conclude my exchange. I feel lethargic and wouldn't want that to diminish the quality of my penmanship. This night shall have the sensation of a thousand without you. It's my greatest wish that you will receive this letter with its dignity preserved and may even find the time to return one to me. 

Goodnight to me, good day to you, maybe.

With deepest love and admiration,

~ Y/N

July 14

Y/N, 

Please pardon my timely response. I was simply trying to find the time to correctly express my yearning for you. That, combined with the current undertakings I am consumed with, has resulted in this delayed message. Contrary to your concerns, my time has been filled with plenty of proceedings to busy me. As of now, I reside in Sumeru City. Not to boast, but my room is quite spacious. Unfortunately, I'm not able to communicate all the details with you, as confidentiality rules typically go. My location does frequent between Sumeru City and Vanarana. The glowing aura of the Tree of Dreams makes my heart ache for you. I bet your laughter has graced the air as you read about me comparing you to a tree; however, I wish you could see it yourself. It's a bewitching violet and azure tone with dainty leaves emerging from the top. Although it is quite a landmark, its appeal is laughable compared to your glamour. I would give my own soul just to lay my eyes on you for just another moment, if such an exchange could be made. Excuse my dramatics; however, it does feel like my heart is but a thousand tons without your presence. My lips so strongly ache for your gentle kiss that I can't even utter a word. Thankfully, my silence is quite useful for a moment such as now. Even with such a bustling scene in Sumeru City, I still do feel as lonesome as you. It's quiet moments like these where I truly realize how much of my body you fill with your light. It feels like such an injustice that I have been savagely torn away from you due to my work. Why I have half a mind to run away to somewhere far away with your fingers intertwined in mine. Liyue maybe? Ah, but with the reputation my name and face carry, such fantasies would be impossible. My dear, please know that before the leaves fall, your touch will again meet mine. Love is not a worthy word to describe my feelings for you. The sensation in my breast when I think of you is simply indescribable. Continue to share your days with me through letter. We must remember that distance is but a miniature obstacle.

Goodbye,

~ Alhaitham

--

If it's unclear, these are just short exchanges between Y/N and Alhaitham through letter.

If you made it to the end, I thank you immensely! I hope this all made some sense and anything you have questions about, leave a comment or inbox me! If you enjoyed this writing, please like and/or reblog! And as always, PLEASE send in requests! Thanks again for reading!!

-🍓

[lichtenbergfigures-comic]

… loading …

loading complete!

subject log - 0.01

subject name - victoria cantrell

subject age - 31 years

subject pronouns - she/her

subject object - computer

log 01 - introduction

[07/19/2040] : 15:37:09

N/A: Have a seat, please. Now, care to speak a bit about yourself?

Victoria: My name is Victoria Cantrell. Birth date 08/07/2008. Is that adequate?

N/A: Speak a bit more. Any ambitions? Dreams of the future?

Victoria: I don’t quite understand how this is relevant, but I do dream of one day succeeding in my scientific endeavors.

N/A: A scientist?

Victoria: Indeed. Although, I prefer the term “knowledge seeker.” I don’t exactly engage in science for… standard reasons.

N/A: Oh?

Victoria: I mustn’t continue further. Who knows what listening devices are strewn about this room.

N/A: Fine, that’s fine. It’s quite unfortunate about what happened to your family, though.

Victoria: Pardon? The details of that event are… to remain undisclosed.

N/A: Undisclosed? I have the file right here-

Victoria: Give me that! Ugh… it is infuriating to see the organization finds it suitable to hand out files all willy nilly! You are to share this information with no one, understood?

N/A: Yes- of course. Understood.

Victoria: I suppose that means we are done here, I take it?

Log End.

log 02 - breakthrough

[02/22/2039] : 09:27:48

Charlotte: I didn’t take you for a morning person, Victoria. What’s got you up so early?

Victoria: I finally made a dent in my research.

Charlotte: Your uhh… disease research thing? Gosh, I’m not very well versed in all your technical stuff.

Victoria: Yes, that’s certainly a way to put it. My research was… lagging behind… but I have finally made a breakthrough!

Charlotte: Oh?

Victoria: I have successfully sequenced the DNA molecules within the virus.

Charlotte: Oh! Sounds… exciting? I’m not sure what that means, actually!

Victoria: It means I am able to read the genetic makeup of this disease, and am one step closer to finding a cure!

Log End.

[chloe-caulfield94]

The Other Max’s Case Falls Apart - a LiS fan poem

The time is up

The clock has run out

It’s time

The execution was

stayed for five days

and now five days are up

I never wanted to be the judge

You thrusted this upon me

I put on my black robe

and I sit on the bench

What a strange trial this has been

with the punishment

meted out up front

Today

no further stay will be granted

and no pardon will be issued

But hold your

ravenous

bloodthirsty

smirk

for I am sure

to wipe it off your face

because I find her

innocent of

murder

torture

kidnapping

selling date rape drugs to

violent boys

and taking bribes for covering up

the violence of boys

Since she is innocent

of all the crimes

the Storm was meted out for

I will not allow that

headman’s axe to touch

her swan neck

The firing squad

will remain silent

never to play

its disgusting music

ever again

The prosecutor

who stole my face

is fuming

A case of

unreasonable expectations

Did she seriously expect me

to sentence to death

someone who has always been

my friend?

This I rule

wearing the same black robe

she would wear

standing

and smiling

over her victim’s coffin

The time is up

The clock has run out

It’s time

Find me one atom

of an hour

or one molecule

of a day

The way we measure time

is a matter not of nature

but one of culture

It’s a matter of

choice

So faced with

the question of time

I choose to make

seventy more years of it

No, scratch that

Eighty more years of it

I’ll just tell her to quit

those smelly cigarettes

and greasy strips of bacon

[latveriastrong]

Doom can certainly top him in both “perform penetrative sex” way and “tie him down” way while watching him writhe and beg… “to be let go” or “for more”? the answer would still be… both :)

You understand their dynamic! The vibe, as young folks say! 🤗

So the thing I've decided about these two is as follows, Doom first bc he is my favorite:

Victor can't let himself be vulnerable enough to let go of one little molecule of actual human affection unless/until he feels like he's in control of things to such a degree that nothing can hurt him.

The armor is like, the biggest possible hint as to what he's actually got going on, I think he's intensely afraid of further emotional damage, which makes Reed Richards uniquely dangerous to him because he cares so damned much what Reed thinks.

On Reed's side, there's this admiration of Victor that honestly mixes with true agape love in the old-ass philosophical sense, like Reed is genuinely capable of unconditional love for others, which actually gets in the way a little of him making any really connection with Victor, because Victor cannot recognize it for what it is. He thinks it has to be a ploy to lure him in close enough that real damage might be done, and immediately lashes out at Reed to make him stop doing that.

Just about their only hope of connection from my weird little aromantic perspective is, they're both kinky as fuck. Reed’s a little bit of a masochist, Victor's a control freak, there's 100% chance they get boners every time they fight in close quarters, it's a whole thing.

I think that could function as a backdoor to a deeper, romantic connection. Pardon the phrasing.

[khaosophist]

Old pictures of my altar to chaos. I wonder why I didn't have nyarlathotep and the headless apollo together...maybe it's a batman/Bruce Wayne situation.

I put the idols into my axolotl tank. It didn't last long, as I discovered the paint would chip, and that the apollo bust was plaster and dissolved. I learned the hard way that I wasn't equipped to care for them properly. Nyarlathotep got some nice crust going though...I'm sorry Shoggoth, Yig, and Zoth.

In order: My Pythagorean cup of chaos, My tome of eternal chaos.

I still haven't found my Tiamat necklace, or my apple of discord pin, and my hand of eris pin. I shouldn't be so dependent on such small things to be myself. But representation matters. Maybe I should dedicate my flesh one day. But what would I even put? I regret almost all of my tattoos. I'd do a cover-up, for sure. The mantle of chaos upon my skin as much as I feel it in my marrow.

Y'know I never did check the source(s) for saying that mortals were made from Tiamat's blood. Mother of dragons, and gods, and all she's remembered for is her death. Y'know what gave birth to gods? Titans. Y'know what gave birth to titans? Chaos. Y'know what gave birth to chaos? Nothing! GET IT?

OH! If nothing comes from nothing for all time and eternity then the most unexpected and chaotic thing that could happen is chaos from nothing. Else, there's a whole lot of nothin going on right now.

OH! Right, the paradox of quantum entropy, or the 'entropy isn't disorder' argument. Based on my reading of reichenbach's The Direction of Time , entropy is just a measure of possible states of a system. So, if a system is (x,y,z) then it has more entropy than (x,y). This definition can be used in a quantum mechanical perspective where (x) is a pure state, and (x,y...a) a mixed state. Now, suppose everything is a result of different quantum states. This means that a quark is a sum of quantum states, a proton a sum of quarks, an atom a sum of particles, a molecule a sum of particles, and so on and so forth, yeah? With this in mind, it means quantum entropy goes up as we go through different scales because each change of scale adds more to the whole thing. However, there's a point where things just...look like life, right? If entropy was disorder, we would expect absolute fucking madness, no? We'd have a lot of possible states going on if we just go to the atomic level because of all the sub-atomic quantum states. To me it just means this, everything is chaos, but it sure doesn't look like it! I'm looking at a mind boggling coincidence. Pardon my English. I believe there's a measurable function between scales that normalises possible states as quantum entropy goes up. So there's a measure between the entropy of scale A to entropy of scale B, which explains why this state is happening rather than that state which would account as to why we seemingly experience things in an orderly fashion. But, anyways, who cares? Words words words, weeeee!

Also, Eris is the fairest. WAIT, no, my wife is the fairest. Shit, If I've spurned love, wisdom, power, and chaos...Am I courting mortality? Meh, potato po-tato.

Right! My grail!

Drank some wonderful communion from it.

Two hours writing again.

Posterity is nice.

[slippinmickeys]

The Mesas of Deuteronilus Mensae (28/31)

Mulder took a step toward her anyway.

“What’s the experiment?” he asked.

Scully looked at him, shoulders up around her ears with tension. The noise of the dust storm outside had become a steady static of sound, of particles being blown into metal. A constant smatter of dissonance.

Finally she sighed. “The bacterium I came into contact with on your suit,” she started, “normally exists at extreme temperatures. The pit had an average temperature of -125 degrees Fahrenheit. Yet they’re functioning just fine on the rover.”

“The surface temperature of Mars can hit 70 degrees in the summer,” Mulder pointed out.

“True,” she admitted. “But it got me thinking that if it could survive at 73 degrees,” she said, referring to the base temperature of the Rover, “why couldn’t it survive at 98.6?”

Mulder could see how the dots had connected in her head, but correlation did not equal causation.

“This is a creature that feeds off of sulfur and ammonia, Scully,” he said gently. “It doesn’t need you.”

“But I’m sick, Mulder. I am.” He opened his mouth to try to calm her, but she plowed on. “I don’t feel well. And the effects of gravitational biology—zero G changes our biology on a fundamental level, Mulder. It changes our DNA. It makes bacteria more potent, more dangerous. You know this. What if this bacterium came into contact with another bacterium that hitched a ride from Earth and changed in space? What if it created a hybrid microbe? It’s been proven that bacterial cells from different species can combine into unique hybrid cells by fusing their cell walls and membranes and sharing cellular contents,including proteins and ribonucleic acid.hose are the molecules that regulate gene expression and control cell metabolism, Mulder. What if this alien bacteria is… What if it’s now feeding on me?”

“Scully,” he said, stepping forward and keeping his voice low. “You’re panicking.”

“I’m sick.”

“And we will figure it out.” He got a little closer to her. If he could touch her, he could calm her down and reassure her, he was certain. She didn’t back away. Finally, he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. Her skin did feel warm, even through her jumpsuit. He wasn’t certain it was a fever, but it was concerning.

“Mulder, you should be in full PPE,” she said. Her voice had lost the desperate edge to it.

“If this is some kind of contagion, I’ve already been exposed. Come here.” And he pulled her into his body. She sagged into his touch.

“Tell me about your experiment,” he said after a moment.

“I’ve exposed an isolated population of the Martian bacterium to a host of bacteria that we’ve carried with us,” she started.

He thought of her quick jaunt to the lav. “I don’t think I want to know how,” he said, and he felt her small huff of a laugh.

“You don’t,” she said. “I want to see how they react to each other. It shouldn’t take long. We’ll know what’s possible in a few hours. If I need to be worried.”

“Pardon me if I’m pointing out the obvious, Scully, but you already seem to be worried.”

Her breath into his jumpsuit was humid and warm.

“I have a quicker idea,” Mulder spoke again, pulling back so he could get a look in her eyes.

They were big and blue and wet, and he wanted so badly to fall into them and drown in her. If she was sick, he wasn’t sure what he’d do, how he’d cope. But he was determined to be strong right now, because she was not.

“How does the phlebotomy queen feel about a self-stick?”

“A blood sample?” she asked.

He nodded. She pulled back, running the back of her hand under her nose. “I thought of that,” she said, sniffling. “But I didn’t want to get ahead of myself.”

They both chuckled at that.

“I think I’m too shaky to do a self-draw,” she finally said.

“I’ll do it,” Mulder said gently. “As long as you don’t judge my technique.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

She had somehow let herself get completely worked up and overwrought, the excitement of her discovery, the off-ness of not feeling well, the grip of exhaustion and the stress of the storm, and their isolation all aggregating until she was a jumble of pathos and hysteria.

What was the matter with her?

Mulder’s solution was simple and direct. If she was concerned about contagion, she should test herself. They’d know one way or the other. One step at a time.

He’d done the blood draw beautifully, had been gentle and deferential, asking her advice on the best way to do this or that, and she didn’t realize until he was done that he’d drawn her focus away from her fear and managed to calm her down without her catching on to his tactics.

They’d taken three vials worth of blood; one to run under the microscope, one to run through The Machine (a piece of NASA medical equipment that ran multiple simple diagnostic analyses), and one for further testing and experimentation, if necessary.

Mulder held up the first vial.

“Do you want me to do it?” he asked.

She felt calm now, and silly for having gotten so worked up. She was embarrassed and needed a distraction. “I’ll do it,” she said, and she took the vial from him and readied a slide, putting it into the Glove Box for a closer look.

Her nerves were tightly wound, but she moved with confidence, in her element, determined to do the science right. She clicked the light on the microscope and changed out the lens. One deep breath, and she looked into the eyepiece.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Mulder was on the edge of his seat, his nerves worn raw with concern, but unwilling to let Scully catch on to any of his internal disquiet. She needed confidence and calm and a partner to shore her up. He would wait, quietly and calmly, for Scully to do her work and tell him what she saw.

Blood thrumming, he watched as she adjusted the slide, swapped lenses, adjusted again, swapped again. And just when he was about to burst out of his skin, Scully pulled back from the microscope and gripped the lab table hard, her knuckles turning white. She inhaled and exhaled once and then turned to Mulder.

“There’s no evidence of contagion,” she said with a shaky voice. “My blood is clean.”

Mulder was up before he could tell his legs to move, and he wrapped Scully in a tight hug. She clung to him just as fiercely and he could feel her sag in relief.

“You had me worried,” he said into the silk of her hair.

“I had myself worried,” she said, her voice muffled from where her face was pressed into his chest. “But Mulder,” and with this he pulled back a little, looked down at her. “Something is going on with me, and we need to figure out what it is.”

He nodded and ran hands over her hair, tucking it behind both ears at the same time. “And we will. We’ll start right now.”

“You know how to load the sample into The Machine?” she asked him. The next course of action would be to run the second vial of blood through the small diagnostic computer, which would give them an idea of where to start depending on the results of the various analyses it ran.

“I’ve been told it’s so simple even a psychologist can do it.”

She smiled at him tiredly. “Can you load it, then? It’ll take a few hours to run. We should get some sleep.”

He nodded and leaned down to press a quick kiss to the tip of her nose. “Go get ready for bed,” he said, and took the second sample over to the lab’s computer interface.

When he was done loading it and the machine was up and running, he turned to find Scully standing in front of the larger cot on the edge of the lab, dropping her jumpsuit to pool on the floor at her feet. She stood before him in a white tank top and a pair of panties and she looked thinner than she had the last time they’d been together. Outside, a low throb of thunder rumbled.

“Take me to bed, Mulder,” she said. “Take me away from here for a little while.”

He swallowed hard and his face went hot. He stepped up to her, ran a finger slowly up the side of her bare arm. “Anywhere,” he whispered.

Later, when he lifted his head from her lap, the foggy moisture of her center plied to his chin like rich river mud, in texture, in taste, he realized where they’d gone. Back to grassy hills and expansive water. Back to the heat of the desert, to the brackish shore of the Chesapeake. She was all the flavors of home, of the Earth, her hands like a starfish in his hair, her very essence of the sea.

They’d gone back. At least for a little while.

Xx

When he awoke hours later, she was riffling through a supply cabinet with an unnerving air of hysteria, her jumpsuit pulled back over her shoulders, but the front unzipped and gaping and showing the pendulous curve of her perfect breasts.

He tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes and glanced over at The Machine, the screen of which was showing a readout that he couldn’t make out from where he lay on the cot across the room.

“Scully?” he called over to her, his voice sounding groggy and frog-like, still choked with sleep. “Is The Machine done? What does it say?

She didn’t answer, just continued to paw through the contents of one of the medical lockers. Concerned, Mulder sat up, thinking maybe she was searching for a drug, something to fix whatever it was that was wrong.

“Scully?” he said again, and then, not bothering to dress, he walked over to The Machine and rove his eyes over the results of Scully’s blood analysis. Some of the results he was familiar with, some he was not. From his base-level understanding, everything appeared to be in order.

He ran his finger down the screen and stopped near the bottom, at a line that had been highlighted with the cursor.

Quantitative (beta) human chorionic gonadotropin level: 153,767 mIU/mL, it read.

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He turned slowly to Scully, who had risen from the cabinet, holding several small bottles in her hand.

“Scully,” he said once more, and she slowly turned to him. He pointed to the screen. “What does this mean?”

Her nostrils flared and she looked him dead in the eye.

“I’m pregnant,” she said.

[mermaid886]

Severus had never seen Dumbledore as angry as he was once he learned what had happened.

Harriet and Lily rested comfortably in his private, dungeon quarters while he faced his employer in the headmaster’s office.

“Severus, have you gone mad?!” Dumbledore spat.

He peered at his young Potions Master with a disgruntled scowl while he hissed, “You could have gotten the three of you killed! I’ve never known you to be so reckless as you were tonight! May I ask why?! What have you done?!”

“What have I done?!” Severus hissed, “Forgive me, Dumbledore, but on the very rare chance that James Potter did know damming information before his untimely death, I cannot allow Lily and her daughter to quietly wait in that forsaken flat like lambs led to the slaughter!”

“James Potter knew nothing, Severus.” Dumbledore scowled.

“.......And to solidify that theory, you took the opportunity to peruse every molecule of his mind before his passing? Is that correct, Dumbledore?” Severus retorted.

The headmaster lifted his chin as he blinked at Severus.

“Your love for her is indisputably genuine, I see.” Dumbeldore remarked.

“I beg your pardon?” Severus frowned.

“Gone is the quiet, timid boy.” Dumbledore smiled, “In his place before me stands a raging lion. While the story is touching enough on its own, I hope that you realize, Severus, from that apartment to the castle, you surrendered all protective enchantments. Had someone intercepted your journey, the three of you would have been slain and the wizarding world as we know it may very well have been lost.”

“........You believe the prophecy to be accurate?” Severus frowned.

“Why should I have reason to doubt it?” Dumbledore blinked, “Am I to assume that you treat it as a lie?”

“Lily thinks it will sit empty and unfulfilled on a shelf.” Severus mused, “I don’t much care how it ends up. I only know I want her to stay safe…..and the war to end so that my life may begin.”

“If you enact any other plans of similar thoughtlessness as tonight’s,” Dumbledore snapped, “Those two things may never happen, Severus. I beg you to keep that in mind!”

Severus threw Dumbledore a contemptful scowl before he turned on his heel and strode towards the door.

“..........Severus?” Dumbledore called.

“.........Yes?” Severus asked quietly as he glanced over his shoulder.

“I advise you to remember one cruel truth that remains evident in this world.” Dumbledore said with a tired sigh.

Severus turned all the way around to face Dumbledore with his brow furrowed.

“It is a bitter blessing to love someone, fiercely, completley, unconditionallly.” Dumbledore observed as he blinked at Severus over his half-moon spectacles.

Severus frowned.

“However, that bitter blessing becomes an unbearable curse if the one we love dies first.” Dumbledore ominously explained, “The heart cannot comprehend death, Severus. I suggest for your own well-being that you be more careful with Lily and her daughter by waiting on my orders in the future.”

Severus’s pale face was a mask of negative emotion as he turned back around and took his exit of the headmaster’s office.

Dumbledore smirked as the Potions Master let the door slam shut behind him.

———————————————————————

New chapter!

[0cheeri0]

Oppenheimer

Yes, I watched it. Last Sunday actually, I just forgot to write it here. Wasn't the best experience, not because of the movie, no no. But the queue for the snacks were so long and the machines really took their sweet time. There's no way you would miss out a snack/drink for a 3-hours movie, right? We were late and the movie had been running for 20 mins. As a result, I have no idea what the beginning of the movie was about.

And, another reason is this.

Pardon the first blurry picture, I was avoiding getting caught with a fine. I. Couldn't. See. The. Bottom. Part. Of. The. Movie. IT WAS THE SUBTITLE! I need to read it.

So for the next hour, I was just trying to understand what they were saying especially when they murmured, whispered, or talked about molecules???

I was cussing him out because I booked the ticket in advance to get best view, right in the middle, and somehow in a sea of people there was this tall guy in front of me. Literally, he was the only one whose head was hanging around like a giraffe.

I thought to myself, "You can't blame him. It wasn't his fault to be born with that feature." But you know what? Why did he decide to get that bigass hair? It looked like my grandma's for a second.

The moment I stopped feeling bad for him was when I found out HE LEANED TO THE FRONT all the time. Moved his head to the right and left like a 12 y.o, I would've smacked it if I wasn't conscious with public space.

He could've leaned to the chair like everybody else, would still obstruct my view but at least his huge hair wouldn't cover the entire subtitle. But he chose to be inconsiderate. Such an ick!

In conclusion, he was tall, had big hair, leaned to the front, and sat on the middle seat.

Yeah all the 4 combos lead to my demise.

I just had to commemorate this moment by taking a pic.

About the movie:

It was.. I wouldn't say thrilling, because it wasn't Marvel, but interesting in its own way? The silence was deafening.

I loved the beginning of the Manhattan project, especially when they started to construct Los Alamos.

I would say it was perfect till the part where they successfully built the bomb, after that it was a bit rushed.

All of the sudden, Oppenheimer felt guilty? As if he wasn't the one who led the bomb making? It had so much depth and reasoning to that but it wasn't explained thoroughly in the movie. They just briefly discussed it. That is, in my humble opinion. I'm no expert.

Also, I felt a sparkle of joy when Albert Einstein came into the screen.

For the romance section, Jean instantly died. Murdered? Suicide? I couldn't grasp from the movie. Because of her death, Oppenheimer felt despair. But somehow it wasn't elaborated. How Oppenheimer and Kitty's relationship was cracking due to O's affair with J. Suddenly, Kitty was forgiving towards Oppenheimer. Where was the redemption?

Maybe it was because the limitation of duration, and they were focusing the movie at the bomb making part of Oppenheimer's life.

It was a bit disappointing, probably because it wasn't my genre of movie and people were glorifying it so much.

Either way, it's still a good movie and worth to watch.

[ducklooney]

April Fools' Day - My Meme

Yes, you remember the meme I made at the expense of the quarrel between Huey and Dewey from Quack Pack, while Louie watches his brothers fight over stupidity. Now this is in a different context, on the occasion of the April Fools' Day jokes. I love April Fool's Day and I don't mind anyone defying me about it and joking about it, of course if it's not offensive. Of course there are people who hate that day so there is often a quarrel between those who love this day and those who don’t. As for me, I love April Fool's jokes, but it's definitely an ordinary day like any other, so there's no need to make nonsense of arguing about it plus it's not a holiday like Christmas or Easter. All in all, I still wish all pranksters a happy April Fool's Day to have a good time, and those who don't like that day, don't worry, avoid jokes that may be at your expense and say that they don't bother you on that day. I made this meme, and the pictures are from the Quack Pack from the episode "Pardon My Molecules", where there is a war between the two brothers (sibling rivarly) Huey Duck and Dewey Duck, and Louie watches the war from the side or neutral, until he decides to reconcile them. So there is no need to argue about nonsense and enjoy in a way that does not harm others and have fun.

This meme also has a good sense of humor and has no intention of offending anyone.

[tumbling-darkling]

Alien/Ghost Support Groups

Steven had been traveling a lot, he wanted to see the world, find a new place in it for him. After saving it for so long and dealing with the repercussions of that, he found himself enjoying the peaceful towns or busy cities, and generally the people that all lived there. He had made so many new friends, friends he would hope to see again and friends he still stayed in contact with over the phone.

The best part of it all was just seeing how vastly different everything around him was. How much people could range from town to town, the little quirks in each town that only those passing through could notice, the ones that made each place special in its own way.

The next town on his map was a little town called ‘Amity Park’, which was apparently the most haunted place on the planet. All the articles he could find on the town emphasized this, he had to admit a ghost gimmick would make any town quite popular during the fall season. He doubted there were any real ghosts though, despite the town claiming to be haunted, there weren’t a lot of stories to back it up. Not a lot of tragic history or stories, it’s past was pretty normal. They just picked up the gimmick nearly two years ago and haven’t dropped it.

As Steven drove into the town, he noticed how quaint it was. It wasn’t too small of a town, housing a mall, hospital, and fairly large neighborhood. But it wasn’t a city either. He decided to take a look around town to se did he could find a hotel or something to stay in for the night, then jolted as he turned the corner. Across the street was a MASSIVE neon sign that hung off what looked to be a modified house, the sign labeled ‘FENTONWORKS’ then shaped an arrow towards the building in question. Steven didn’t even want to know all the building laws broken regarding whatever was built on the roof of the building.

Glancing out the window, he noticed a teen around his age walking past, and quickly took the opportunity to roll down his window and call out, “excuse me! What’s with the building with the neon sign?”

The teen froze, slowly looking over with the most exhausted expression Steven had ever seen, even he didn’t have bags that dark under his eyes during the worst of his endeavours. “That’s the Fenton’s, so called ‘ghost experts’,” the kid hummed sarcastically. “You’re from out of town?”

Steven nodded and offered a bright smile, “yep! Came to see what the most haunted town in North America has to offer!”

“Let me give you some advice,” the kid slowly leaned towards Stevens car. “Run.”

Steven blinked, “p-pardon?”

The kid grinned, and Steven couldn’t help but notice his sharper canines, “Best to run while you still can, Ghost’s don’t like new things.”

The kid then turned and walked away… then walked into the FentonWorks house.

… what.

Was.

That.

Steven took a moment to collect himself before he did a legal u-turn, carefully parked along the street, and walked up to the house himself. He could play this game. He had a very strong urge to befriend the scary boy, so by the gems he was going to do so!

He knocked on the door and bounced on the balls of his feet as he waited for someone to answer. He did manage to hear yelling coming from inside before the loudest sigh was heard and dragging feet. Then the door swung open to reveal the boy, who looked up Steven up and down, “didn’t I tell you that this town sucks?”

Steven smiled and offered his hand, “my name is Steven! I’d love to learn more about this town and it’s ghosts and seeing that you live with the ghost experts, I’m sure you can tell me a few things!”

The kid eyed his hand, the icy gaze slowly rising up to Steven’s face. Something about it sent chills down the half gems spine.

Then the kid took his hand and shook it, which was freezing cold. “Danny. Might as well invite you inside,” he shrugged and turned around, sauntering into the house. “So why are you interested in Ghosts? Want to hunt them down and tear them apart, molecule by molecule?”

Steven jolted as he walked in, “what?! Why would anyone want to do that?!”

Danny turned around again, walking backwards with his eyes wide, “wow, you really are fresh into town, aren’t you? You probably haven’t even seen a ghost yet, have you?”

“Are they really such a common sight here? Like events and such?”

“Events. Sure,” Danny rolled his eyes as he flopped on a couch, gesturing to a seat near him. “Gonna give you a heads up before you wander in the middle of crossfire. The ghosts here are very real, and when you see one, walk in the other direction. Do not go towards it with your mouth wide open, that’s how you get buildings dropped on you.”

“… seriously?” Steven asked.

“As serious as one who lives in a town constantly under attack by dead people who love to make sure nobody gets more than 3 hours of sleep.”

“That sounds… not very great.”

“Ha! We survive,” Danny hummed, “so where shall we start, the place where ghosts come from, the ghosts themselves, or that Phantom weirdo?”

Stevens mind was reeling, “the- wha- Phantom weirdo?”

“Oh don’t get me started, dude shows up one day and suddenly ghosts are everywhere. He’s so annoying too always breaking his back saving stupid tourists. Never gets thanked, cares way too much for a town that barely gives him the time of day, and then gets blamed for the problems he fixes! What a menace.”

Everything Danny said contradicted itself.

“I am… extremely confused.”

“Welcome to Amity Park!” Danny laughed.

He looked ready to say something else what a small gasp escaped him and he muttered something that sounded like ‘of course they have the worse timing.’

Right before Steven could ask, something flew from the floor, something glowing and magic and supernaturally coloured.

“BEWARE FOR I-!”

Steven acted before he could think, jumping to his feet and throwing up a bubble around him and Danny and pushing the glowing blue man across the room. Danny sputtered behind, “wha- WHAT THE FUCK-?”

The glowing man wasn’t injured, but he glared at Stevens bubble, “HOW DARE YOU USE A CIRCULAR OBJECT TO DEFY ME, THE BOX GHOST! MASTER OF ALL THINGS CUBULAR! I WILL SHOW YOU MY BOXED WRATH!” The glowing man lifted his arms and every box shaped thing in the room flew at Stevens bubble! But harmlessly bounced off it. “IMPOSSIBLE!”

“Hey, maybe we can talk about this?” Steven asked.

“I CANNOT TALK TO ONE WHO FAVOURS THE CIRCLE OVER THE SUPERIOR SQUARE!”

“Boxy,” Danny spoke behind Steven, causing him to glance over his shoulder in surprise, “go back the ghost zone.” He was rubbing his eyes, looking like he had gone years without sleep.

“But… my boxtacular takeover-,” the ghost stuttered, which Danny looked up with a glare, eyes flashing a toxic green that cause Steven to jump and drop his bubble in surprise.

“Ghost Zone. Now.”

The self proclaimed Box Ghost disappeared back into the floorboards in a blink of an eye. Steven was blinking at Danny, and Danny was staring back at Steven.

“Are you a Gem?”

“Are you a Ghost?”

“I’m sorry, What?”

————————————

The two sat on the roof of Danny’s house.

“You’re telling me… you’re half alien?”

“How is that crazier than being half dead?”

“You’re half alien! From like- from space! Half your family is from space! In the stars and on other planets and shit! That’s amazing!” Danny seemed to have stars in his eyes, his personality completely changing at the mention of Stevens alien heritage.

“Well, it’s not as amazing when you find out that they were conquerors that destroy life on various other planets before you managed, at the age of 14, to convince them that maybe killing is bad. Then is left with trauma from constantly being in life threatening danger when only 14, that when everything is finally safe and peaceful you have survival reactions to small things like not being able to help your friends repot a plant over the weekend.”

“… dude… you should talk to my sister, she could totally help you through that.”

Steven laughed a little, “oh, I already have a therapist! They’ve really been helping me work through these things.”

“Must be nice talking to someone about daily life or death battles that isn’t trying to psychoanalyze you or talk about dissecting your alter ego.”

Steven stared at Danny for a moment, “you… don’t have a therapist?”

Danny laughed, “of course not! I can’t even tell my parents I’m part ghost in fear that they will vivisect me! I can’t walk into a therapists office and be like: I died when I was 14 but not all the way and my guilt over opening the portal and letting the ghosts in town has me put my own health on hold in favour of protecting a town from my stupid mistakes!” Danny said it all too casually, but Steven could see the glisten of watery eyes, the hunched shoulders, avoiding eye contact as the other teen stared off over the city. “I thought about it before though,” He said quietly, “but after Spectra… they all will just think I’m some freak. Run away, get mad, or just pretend to care. I just got to keep moving forward. I’ll should be fine.”

Steven was already typing the numbers into his phone.

Danny heard the tapping and looked over, “what… what are you doing?”

“I’m booking you an appointment with my therapist.”

“WHAT NO YOU CAN’T DO THAT!” Danny lunged for Stevens phone but he managed to hold it out of reach.

“They deal with super-powered teens saving the world at young ages and dealing with trauma later in life! It’s all confidential, nothing gets out! And it helps! It’s a support system! Ben can vouch for me!”

“Who the heck is Ben?!”

“A kid who got alien powers at the age of 10!”

“WHY DOES EVERYONE GET ALIEN POWERS AND ALL I GET IS HALF DEATH?!”

[dietraumerei]

not the wind that wakes with the day

Crowley reached over and, on his third try, turned the alarm clock off.

His nose twitched.

A tiny, forked tongue darted out of his mouth. Then again.

Eggs.

Bacon.

Tea.

Marmalade.

Crowley almost wished he could be surprised, but he wasn't. He slightly wondered what it would be like to be frightened of an intruder, but he had wards seventeen deep to keep out anyone – minus one angel, of course. He hadn't constructed them that way, but after he'd wandered out of bed one morning in only a pair of pants and a miracled cup of coffee to find Aziraphale had let himself in and was casually reading Donne aloud to his plants, he figured it out quickish.

There had been some screaming and spilled coffee, mind. From both of them. But the ferns knew better than to be affected by such things, and soon coffee was restored, and Crowley put on a pair of trousers, and generally found himself to be not terribly surprised that Aziraphale had been able to stroll in without so much as a key.

He pulled his mind back to the present. Right. July 1st, 2020. Morning, since the angel was breakfasting. Time to get up and see how the world was doing.

Crowley yawned and dragged himself off of the ceiling, took a brief moment to make sure he was decent, and stumbled out of his bedroom, wiping sleep from his eyes. Apparently the Sandman visited demon and human alike. And also apparently he hadn't removed his eyeliner as perfectly as he'd thought, ecch.

“Morning, angel,” he called, dragging his feet into the little nook that had appeared after the first time Aziraphale showed up. It held a cafe table and two chairs, and was flanked on low shelves by the orchids with the most advanced Stockholm Syndrome. Crowley squinted, and found that a stunning ikebana arrangement graced the window, now. “'Zat for me?” he mumbled, surprised.

“Of course, my dear. Thought a little wake-up gift was in order. Will you join me? Tea's hot.”

Aziraphale hadn't changed a single molecule, bless him. Of course he wouldn't, he'd barely bought new underwear since 1845.

Exceedingly grateful for one constant in his world, Crowley dropped into the empty chair and accepted the piping-hot cup of English Breakfast, scalding his tongue on the first sip as was traditional. “How's...things?” he asked, waving his hand to take in the world.

Aziraphale sighed, and looked his age for a moment.

“Oh no,” Crowley said.

“There are still...lights in the darkness, my dear,” Aziraphale said carefully, and he even managed a rather brave little smile. “A number of them, really. It. It could be worse.”

“Mnehh.” Crowley took another sip of tea, and his hair arranged itself neatly. “'member in the fourteenth century? How people fled?”

“Oh! Well, yes. There has been...a little of that going around. But there's, well, not much to flee to.”

“No, no,” Crowley said, waving his hand. “I meant, us.” He squinted. “Wait, why are you breaking quarantine?”

“Oh! Well. I'm allowed to. I mean, the rules allow for us to...spend time together, now.” Aziraphale shook his head. “And you know we can't leave for Scotland.”

“Mmm, s'pose not,” Crowley said contemplatively. He didn't really want to. Unless the angel wanted to. But he didn't want to either. So London it was. “Wouldn't be the done thing and all.”

“Quite. And, well. Feels a bit right. To ride it out here.”

Crowley shrugged, as close to a whole-hearted agreement as Aziraphale would ever get out of him. “Do any good miracles while I was asleep?”

“Oh, no! I rather hunkered down. I baked a good bit, mind.” Aziraphale paused in thought, and smiled. “Well, one miracle. The churros got a bit, well, the oil you cook them in, you know, it gets quite hot --”

Crowley winced. Flames were still a sensitive topic.

“Oh, I do beg your pardon,” Aziraphale said gently. “All is well with me, dear boy. Bit rounder, perhaps, a bit more well-read, you know me, no real changes ever.”

Crowley looked at the angel who had thrown away his side, who had broken through abuse and brainwashing and his own deep-seated fears. Took in the sight of the fussy being who was his hereditary enemy (former) and best friend (since the world was not quite a week old), and who was the other half of their side.

“Quite,” he said, and eyed up some toast and marmalade. “Is that for me?”

“Of course,” Aziraphale said, kindly slathering the toast with a generous layer, while Crowley settled in. Best to stay awake now, after all. Never knew when there might be a call for demon-ing, and Aziraphale had admitted to a miracle while Crowley was asleep. Absolutely better to stay awake and balance out any future angelic workings. And he did still have a case of a lovely Spanish red they ought to work their way through...

[river--ghost]

The Goddess

summery: There is an inexplicable memory that Kade had retained over the years. It was like the most improbable dream and he would have dismissed it as such if there wasn’t some part of him that vehemently insisted that it was completely real.

word count: 1440

warnings: guilt, self-deprecation

ao3

I don’t know when this happened, or why. Or if it happened at all. I know only that it’s one of my most peaceful memories. I recall it like an odd dream, only on occasion with sparing details. Much like most dreams, however, if I only take a moment I might just be able to bring myself back to it.

I can recall the serene setting of the forest glade rather vividly.

It was misted over, and the air was fresh and cool and comforting with the scent of spring on every dew-glazed blade of grass. The trees stood proud and tall all around me.

Bioluminescent toadstools lit up the ground I stood upon and the sky glittered with stars above the canopy of the enormous willows.

I remember feeling a sense of peace that I had not felt in.. such a long time. The place was soothing. I thought, perhaps I’d died, though I did not see myself going to a place as tranquil as this when I passed.

With that string of thought in mind, I’d found myself frowning. I didn’t believe I belonged there, though I couldn’t quite recall why.

Perhaps it was some mistake, and I would find myself in a lower place at any moment.

I found myself standing in silence, awaiting a sinister change in setting that would not occur, listening only to the sound of my own slow breathing and the thunder of my own heart. When nothing did happen, an odd sense of ease overcame me. I allowed my eyelids to close.

Upon my life, I could not figure out why I was feeling so uneasy about the idea of relaxing, or why I started calming down regardless. Something about the restful nature of the glade’s silence was contagious; it was as though the entire forest was consciously coaxing me to just.. be still.

“Hello, Kaykye.”

Had the voice not been resonant and encompassing, I don’t believe I would have heard it.

When I opened my eyes, towering before me was a woman. She appeared pale as the moon and humanesque as the race of ancient fables, hovering above the mossy forest floor.

Her hair and dress floated around her as though she were underwater. I found my voice catching in my throat.

“...Hello,” I managed, cleared my throat, and retried, “Hello there. Am I dead?”

“You are not.”

“Can I ask where I am?”

“The In-Between,” she had answered, though it did not help much.

“...Pardon?”

“Your body’s molecules are being torn apart and reconstructed,” she explained gently. “It is very painful, and I am here to console you. Though I know you are no stranger to pain. Do you know who I am, Kaykye?”

I furrowed my brow a little. “I’m afraid not... But you seem to know me.”

“I do. Do you remember who you are?”

A myriad of descriptions of who I might have been came to mind. I was suddenly uncertain; none seemed to fit. “...I thought I knew me,” I said finally.

“You are the one who has brought a great deal of harm to many of my people, whom I am sworn to protect,” the woman replied. A startlingly jogging bit of information, that was. More questions arose in my head, and my eyes fell.

“Did I?”

“Yes.”

I quieted a moment. I remembered violence, tears. Pain. Blood. Was any of it my own? “I’m sorry.” I did not meet her eyes. I had offered the apology with the shame and sincerity of a small child.

Something somber appeared in the depths of her gaze. Her voice softened. “I know.”

“...I.. think.. I was just a boy,” I found myself saying, “one day. And then.. I..I don’t know when I grew up.”

“That demon. Xe slipped out of my sight. Xe grabbed a hold of you and would not let go.”

“Nirim…” I said in a quiet voice. Foggy memories surfaced. Gruesome images... I could not hold onto any particular one for long, but I understood that they were my memories. “I am a murderer… aren’t I?” I asked quietly. “I’ve… taken.. innocent lives, haven’t I?"

The woman lowered her head to meet my eyes with her own velvet pair. Lip trembling, she did not speak for a few wretched seconds. Shimmering pools gathered in her eyes when she finally gave me my answer.

“Yes.”

Oh. Cold shivers slithered down my back. My legs caved, my knees hit the ground. Something within my gut twisted and churned and suddenly I was unsure if the sorrow I was feeling was hers or my own. My throat was closing up. Were there words even worth forming? How many were slain? How many suffered? And this woman. Her pain carried over. I felt the deep love she had for her people - and the grief over their deaths. I ached.

“You… You are the moon goddess, aren’t you?” I struggled out.

A heartbeat passed, and she quietly answered, “I am.”

I bowed my head. I was in the presence of someone divine. “Lorelei.. My.. my queen. For my actions, I ask that you take my life.”

“I won’t be doing that.” The force of the statement startled me to meet her eyes again. There was a resolution to them that I didn’t understand. Shame burned in my gut. There was something so.. motherly about the goddess, I felt as though I had confessed a terrible secret.

I could not bring myself to reply. I, a monster, was so out of place here in the realm of the skies.

I wanted to be so angry. At the world, at my demons - figurative and literal. At myself. My eyes squeezed shut. I felt a touch on my chin and my head was raised.

“Kaykye, stand up. Open your eyes.” My compliance was hesitant. She was looking at me with an emotion I couldn’t put a name to. “Walk with me,” she said.

As her feet connected with the mossy ground, her starry hair and silken dress ceased to float, cascading down as though gravity had delicately pulled her back into its grasp. Still, there remained an otherworldly tranquility about her as she stepped further into the glade. With a prompting look from the goddess, I reluctantly joined her by her side.

“May I ask why…” The words trailed and my brow furrowed. Why wouldn’t she kill me? It seemed so.. suitable. I took lives, so my life would be taken in return. When I told her this, the goddess only looked ahead again.

“My boy. It was under my authority that Nirim was given more trust to betray, under my care that you were tempted and whisked down such a dark path. It would be cruel to strip you of a chance at redemption when you, as a young boy, passionate and in need, were overlooked by your own faithless guardian.”

Was she referring to the demon, I thought, or herself? It would not be the first time I wondered such a question.

We spoke for a long time. I don’t recall most of the conversation, only certain portions. I don’t even remember my own questions but some of her answers still stand out to me to this day as though they were a riddle I just could not wrap my head around.

Once, she picked up a small stone from the path. Ran her fingers over the smooth surface while she responded to something I had said. “No, they would be proud of you. They will be proud. I look forward to the day you meet them.” I still cannot make a guess as to whom we were talking about.

She stopped walking, her hands still folded behind her back as she looked onward. “Yes, they are all at peace; vengeance has been taken. The man who took their lives has died, and the man who stands in his place has opened his heart.”

“I can’t say exactly what life will be like from now on.” I remember the feeling of her fingers lightly touching my shoulder. “It won’t be easy. You’ll still be faced with difficult decisions and I can’t tell you that you won’t ever miss these past few years. But you can bounce back. Just like any of us, all you can do is the next right thing, whatever that might be.”

The most vivid remnants of what I can recall from the visit cut short there, with only the occasional blurry image.

When I try to remember anything else, I’m only brought back to hell.

Dark, starving and bound in chains. The time in my life when I almost forgot what the moon looked like.

[the-haunted-office]

"Very good. It is decided then. We shall depart immediately," says Zenith. "This way."

They begin to move the group away and Cyrus and Aurora follow. Cyrus speaks up moments later, though.

"Ah, if I may make a request. Before we depart, I should like to let my daughter know of what's going on here. She will be most worried if we just up and disappear without at least leaving behind a note," he says.

"Yes, we should let the others know," Aurora agrees.

Zenith tilts their head to the side a bit and blinks at Cyrus. "A daughter, you say? What is a daughter?"

"Oh. Humans have gendered children. A 'daughter' is one who is female. Ah..." He trails off awkwardly for a moment, realizing that Zenith and Quasar probably know nothing about Earth's genders. Cyrus and Aurora didn't either when they first arrived, but after living among humans, they found they liked the identities of "he" and "she", and so they adopted them for themselves. "It will take some explaining, but my daughter Thursday is a human, not biologically mine. We have sort of adopted each other as parent and child."

"Oh, that is fascinating!" says Quasar, shifting from foot to foot. "We shall be very interested to hear about this human child of yours. But yes, you can say goodbye to them before we leave."

Cyrus, Aurora, and Pollux are all allowed off the spaceship to inform their friends and loved ones of what's going on, and then they are all gathered back onto the ship for departure.

They're allowed into what serves as the control room, which is just as filled with plant life as the rest of the ship. "These plants can direct us through space via proper communication. The monolith we mentioned earlier told us how to construct the ship and use modified Dampening energy as a fuel source," Zenith explains. They demonstrate by touching some of the plants, which glow in response, and the ship takes off, its movements minimally felt.

"I beg your pardon - did you say modified Dampening energy?" Cyrus inquires, feeling his heart race. The Dampening is a dangerous entity, one he has direct experience with, as does the rest of his species. The thought of being anywhere near even a molecule from it makes him feel extremely uncomfortable.

"Yes. While the Dampening died out on our homeworld, it left behind a huge amount of cast-off energy, which we were able to modify and use as fuel. It never runs out, surprisingly," Quasar answers.

"Am I to understand we are essentially piloting a ghost ship?" Aurora says, feeling just as nervous as her brother about this.

"Hmm, I suppose that's one way of putting it. It only seems fair that we should get to use the remains of the Dampening mist to our advantage after it destroyed our planet," Zenith says, touching more plants and getting them steered on the right path.

Cyrus and Aurora are clearly uncomfortable with this. They haven't forgotten that Pollux is there. Knowing he knows of their story, they look to him to see how he is taking all this in. Suddenly they aren't all too certain they made the right choice here.

"I would love to go with you. I am the one who asked these questions, after all. Also.....I really like places with a lot of bioluminescence. It doesn't exist naturally on Rovaria, yet our people find it very beautiful. And we enjoy seeing new worlds and the people who live there. So if it's not too much trouble, I would love to come to your world."

[calciumcryptid]

{ The Artist | BNHA Drabble }

During Sports Festival preperations, an intruder has been spotted on campus. Svetlana checks it out, only to meet an eccentric personality. Svetlana belongs to the lovely @insomniac-jay

"There is an intruder on campus."

Svetlana whipped her head up at those words. "What?"

One of the volunteers fiddled with their hands. "I was sent to tell you, since no one can catch them not even Smokes."

Look, Svetlana may not like Smokes, but if there was one thing Smokes was it was dexterous. This didn't bode well. She grabbed her sheath with her sword tucked inside.

"Take me to the place you saw them."

Svetlana was lead through the festival stadium, with the rest of the volunteers running around putting everything together. It wasn't until her guide stopped did Svetlana spot the intruder.

Said intruder was a ginger with the harshest dark makeup one would ever seen. They were hanging upside down from the third floor balcony taking pictures of the area below with a professional looking black camera.

Svetlana walked forward to where they hung down, only for the figure to turn around and promptly take a picture of Svetlana. They pulled the camera down to check out the photo.

"Can I just say you are an absolute image of a woman, m'lady?"

Svetlana blinked away the flash. "Thank you for the compliment; however your advances and presence are unwelcomed."

The figure blinked, "Oh! You misunderstand me!" Their appearance blurred before appearing once more upright in front of Svetlana. "I wasn't making advances, I was simply saying you are absolutely a painting. An image of the finest renaissance painting, like a knight on the battlefield so regal and stoic! In fact, I think I'll paint you!"

"Pardon me?"

The figure did not elaborate, only pulling a card out of their trench coat pocket. "The name is Cam. Your resident freelance photographer and artist. I like to take picture of heroes in action, and I have seen a lot in my time let me tell you." Cam's eyes gleamed and that was when Svetlana realized they were a blank white.

"Would you like to see my portfolio?"

"How did you get on UA Campus?"

Cam tilted their head. "Hm?"

Svetlana gritted her teeth, "This is a matter of security. If you were able to get in then others will be able to as well."

Cam threw back their head and laughed. "I doubt that. Unless these others have the quirk I do, then they will be absolutely useless against any defense UA will be able to put up."

"Though if you must know," Cam started. "I simply reshaped my molecules on the other side of UA's forcefield. There isn't much it can do against teleporters you know."

Cam shrugged. "Regardless, I've got what I came here for. It was nice meeting you Svetlana, until we meet again."

Cam started to vibrate and blur away.

"Wait, how do you know my name?"

Cam had disappeared.