#soft little bastards

[vullcanica]

Robert smushing himself against Angel when falling asleep. Maybe he almost smothers himself while falling asleep but at least Angel gets to soak up his body heat.

It's always the quiet and mysterious ones... He might be a sore thumb on the quaint little cul-de-sac, but Robert is a whole splinter. Not immediatelly noticeable, until it sneaks up on you. A nose presses into Angel's sternum a little too hard and he frowns, taken out of his light reading.

He raises the charmingly beat up Psychopathology Vol 1 tome and reveals a tuft of dark hair, with little else below it visible of Robert's smooshed face. Who'd have thought Small'd taken such a liking to his personal space; certainly not Angel, until he'd found himself with a chestful of heavy, tired brunette some weeks back. The warm weight had been welcomed back then; the intrusion.. perhaps shoudn't have been. Still, he regards the display with the fondness of a man welcoming back a wayward stray - setting the book aside accomodatingly; making room. His fingers thread through Robert's quiff slowly, nails reaching down to scalp to languidly comb his hair back. It's.. cute.

"Comfortable?" The small smile is evident in his voice. "You'll suffocate yourself."

[x-bluefire-heart-x]

Mr Right

So, anonymous requested this request. And not gonna lie it was hard to write in so far as making Rafael a dick but otherwise I loved writing adoring Carisi caring for pregnant reader.

Warnings: Swearing, threat of violence, angst

Master List

Prompts

You casually walked through the squad room, smiling at your fellow detectives as you made your way to Liv’s office. You paused briefly as you saw them all look at each, their smiles not quite convincing. You shrugged before continuing on, thinking that they were just concerned with how you were handling the baby Drew Incident. Which…fair, you probably weren’t handling it as well as the others, and Rafael hadn’t answered your calls or been at home when you went by his place. The two of you had been dating for around six months and you wanted to check on him and not being able to tell if he was okay was worrying you. You hoped that he had at least talked to Liv which was why you were making a beeline for her office.

“Hey, Liv,” you leaned against her doorway rapping your knuckles against the glass.

“Y/n,” Liv waved you in, you noticed her smile was forced as well and you could see the strain around her eyes. “Come in. I wasn’t expecting you to be in today.”

“Oh?” you asked tilting your head as you stepped through, closing the door before taking a seat in-front of her desk. “Why?”

“I thought maybe you might take some time off or even request a leave of absence,” Liv sounded confused. “Maybe even talk about a transfer once you two had discussed where Rafael was moving to.”

“Moving?” you asked even more confused. “Rafael, is moving?”

“He hasn’t told you?”

“We haven’t talked since his trial, he said he needed some time, and I gave that to him but when I tried to call him or go by his place there was no answer,” you could feel your heart speeding up, as a burning sensation built at the back of your throat. “Rafael talked to you?”

“Yes, he said he had put in his papers and was thinking of leaving,” Liv’s voice turned to steel as she put together the pieces you were still missing but were slowly putting together.

“He…he’s leaving, and he didn’t even tell me,” your voice quivered as your vision became blurred as your eyes filled with tears. “He’s left me.”

“I am so sorry,” Oliva stood up and moved around to you. She wrapped her arms around you holding you close to her as you cried. Your chest felt tight as you tried to get your breathing under control, but it was difficult as the buzzing in your head got louder.

“I can’t believe he wouldn’t even call me,” your voice was soft but measured as the buzzing in your head slowly disappeared. You could feel your body slowly starting to heat, you took in a deep breath before letting it out in a shaky exhale. Anger started to fill your veins, pushing away from Liv you started to pace, your hands running through your hair. “I mean what the fuck?! We were together six months we were even talking about moving in together, getting a place. I-if I ever see him again I…I’ll…fuck!”

“Your anger is understandable,” Liv stood up watching as you paced. “Take the day, more if you need.”

You spun around to face her, your chest heaving as you tried to get control, not wanting lash out at your friend. Just as fast as the rage hit you it was gone as your body sagged as if someone cut your strings. Tears filled your eyes again as you nodded. Liv’s eyes softened as she watched you switch emotions so quickly; she couldn’t believe Rafael wouldn’t even call you. She was going to kill him for hurting you.

“I’ll get Carisis to drive you home,” Liv’s voice was gentle as she reached for you again. “I don’t want you driving like this.”

You just nodded, following her out like a lost puppy. Now you understood the looks the others gave you. They knew. They bloody knew. Great so everyone but you knew that Rafael left you. You braved a look at the others, and was a little surprised. Finn looked murderous; it seems Olivia had enough time to tell them that you had in fact not known that Rafael had left. Amanda looked torn between helping Finn commit a crime and comforting you. Carisi, well, Carisi looked like someone had kicked his dog as he came towards you, his jacket in hand.

“Hey,” his hands started reaching for you but aborted their movement before they dropped to his side. You tried to smile at him but you were sure it came off a little more like a grimace. “Come on, let’s get you home.” Once again you followed after one of your friends like a lost little puppy.

--

It had been over a month since you found out that Rafael had left you like the bastard he was. And your sadness had almost completely been replaced by rage. The others had taken to be careful not to mention his name around you. It wasn’t that you would start frothing at the mouth in rage but rather you would shut down and that apparently made the others uncomfortable. Well, Carisi got more concerned then uncomfortable. He had started bringing in an insane number of baked goods and would also show up at your place with ingredients to cook dinner.

It was probably the best you had eaten in that month, or well ever apparently. Your favourite pants had gotten a little tight, actually, all of your pants had gotten tight. And that didn’t make any sense, because you were throwing up randomly throughout the day, which also tended to coincide with when someone mentioned Rafael. The throwing up just made Carisi even more concerned for you, which had him making you even more food. It was a little vicious cycle. You stared down at your pants that you were currently struggling to do up. You pouted as you tried once again to get the two sides of the pants to come together, your eyes narrowed as they once again did not come close to touching.

“What the fuck?” you whispered frowning as tears started to fill up your eyes, chest heaving as a sob crawled up your throat. “Great now I’m crying. Again.”

Giving up on your pants you fell back onto your bed allowing the sobs to run their course. You couldn’t wait for whatever this was to end. Hopefully, it would be soon. You couldn’t take much more of this. It was ridiculous. It was worse than the ups and downs during your cycle. Wait. You bolted up into a sitting position. Your sobs stopping just as quickly as they started.

“Not possible,” you whispered, grabbing your phone and opening your calendar. The date stared at you, like some big massive joke. “Nope, nope, nope.” And, yep, there are the sobs again. Flopping back onto the bed you threw the phone to the side, covering your face with both hands you sobbed harder. “Maybe if I ignore this, it will go away.”

Your little session was interrupted by a knock on your front door. Groaning you sat up, glaring down at your jeans before aiming the glare in the direction on your front door. The knock came again, dragging out another groan from you as you forced your body up tugging your shirt down as much as you could to cover your undone pants.

“I’m coming,” you called out as the knock sounded again. “Don’t be so god damn impatient.” You yanked open the door, glare firm on your face even as you continued to cry.

“Hey-woah, are you okay?” Carisi stood on the other side, the smile freezing on his face as it morphed into a concerned frown.

“Do I look okay?” you demanded turning away from him and walking back towards your kitchen leaving the door open for Carisi to walk through.

“I mean…no?” Caris seemed unsure if he should answer that question honestly. You huffed reaching to get a glass, Carisi’s eyes zeroed in on your undone pants and the swell of your stomach. His eyes slowly moved up, taking in any other changes he could see. Only to stop when he caught your eyes, your puffy, wet, red eyes that were currently glaring at him.

“Can I help you?” your voice was cold, almost seething, as you set the glass down and tried to tug your shirt back over your pants again. “I am aware that my pants can’t do up at the moment, but that is no reason to look at me with judgy eyes.” You voice broke as the tears started falling again. “And fucking hell, can I stop crying for five minutes please?!”

“Trust me I was not looking at you with “judgy” eyes,” Carisi promised, arms twitching as he resisted the urge to hug you. “I was concerned. And I think I may know what is going on.”

“Of fuck off, with your knowledge because you have sisters,” you cursed. “I am not…I can’t be…pregnant.” Your voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear you but it broke his heart. You sounded so scared.

“You’ve been throwing up a lot, and your body has changed,” Carisis thought better of using the phrase “gained weight”, his sister did not appreciate it one bit. “Not to mention how you’re switching between emotions really fast. It might be a good idea to take a test. Just to be sure.”

You looked up at him, all the anger fading from your face as you heard someone else voicing the thoughts that ran through your head once you realised it had been nearly two months since your last period. Shaking your head, you closed the distance between the two of you and fell against his chest. Carisi was always an affectionate person with his friends and right now you needed his hugs and you knew he wasn’t going to offer, not after the last time. Where you may have bitten his head off. Which you now at least had a theory as to why you reacted the way you did. Even if you really didn’t want to entertain the idea, you knew taking a test would be the smart thing to do.

“Can…I mean, will you be here, when I take it?” you asked in a tone so close to broken that Carisi wanted to hunt Rafael down.

“Of course I will,” Carisi soothed, running his hand up and down your back. “I’ll go out and get a test. You stay here, want me to maybe also get you some different pants?”

“Yes,” you nodded, hiccupping as you refused to let him go. “But just...stay here for a moment.”

“I won’t leave until you want me to,” Carisi promised, arms holding you tight to him.

“You promise?” you couldn’t help but ask him. You couldn’t help but fear that one day everyone you cared about would decide to leave you, with absolutely no warning. “You won’t leave?”

“Never,” Carisi pressed a kiss to the top of your head, heart finally shattering. It was then that swore to himself that he would do everything in his power to help you believe he wouldn’t leave, that there were people in your life who cared about you and would never leave you. It doesn’t matter what it will take, or long it will take until you believed him.

--

“You have to come out of the bathroom eventually,” Carisi called knocking against the door. “It’s been long enough, what does the test say?”

“I think the fact that I am in here having what is most definitely a panic attack should answer that!” you tried to sound angry but the sobbing and fear in your voice did not help.

“A panic-I’m coming in,” Carisi frowned, opening the door he found you sitting on the floor against the bath tub, the test in your hands. At the look on your face, he once again found himself wanting to hunt down a man he once considered a friend. You were so pale, your chest heaving as your breath came out in rough pants, your eyes looked unfocused.

“Oh, darling.” He couldn’t help the pet name as he kneeled beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his chest. His other hand carefully took the test out of your shaking hands, noting the positive result before setting it aside so he could rub your arm in comfort.

“What am I going to do?” you asked, voice shaking. “I can’t, I’m pregnant.”

“It’ll be okay,” Carisi whispered.

“How?! How the hell is this going to be okay?” you demanded pulling back from him, eyes blazing, panic seeming to fade as the anger at your situation hit you full force. “I’m pregnant, and the bastard of a father left without even so much as a good bye! I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can,” Carisi assured you. “You are so insanely strong, not to mention brave. You would be an amazing mother. Whatever decision you choose I will support you.”

“You will? Why?” you asked confused.

“You’re my friend and I care about you,” he answered, voice firm.

“Regardless of my decision?” you wanted to confirm, knowing that Carisi had his faith. “Even if I decide I don’t want to keep the baby?”

“Yes, it is your decision,” Carisi nodded. “But, again, regardless, I will support you through it. Now come on we need to get off this cold floor and you need to eat something.”

“Carisi, I can’t,” you whined, mood switching again. “My pants don’t fit.”

“I got you new ones remember?” he gently pulled you up off the floor, pulling out a handkerchief and wiped away the tears that had started to fall down your cheeks again as your rage ebbed away at the thought that your pants don’t fit.

“Oh, right,” you bit your lip as your eyes drifted up to Carisi’s face, taking in his features as he wiped away your tears. “Thank you.”

“Any time,” he smiled tapping you on the nose. “I also got some ingredients for a pasta dish.”

“Ooh, can we have that garlic bread you made the other week?” you asked brightening. Carisi’s food always made you happy, even if at first you thought it was making you gain weight.

“Yes, of course I got ingredients to make that garlic bread,” Carisi couldn’t help but laugh at not just your quick change in emotion, he was use to that, he thought it was adorable you got so excited about his food.

--

Amanda, Liv and Finn all stood around staring. Watching as Carisi handed you a container with what looked like homemade food, and he then placed a bottle of something on your desk.

“You need to remember to be taking your vitamins,” they heard him scolding you. “The Dr said your levels were low.”

“…they tasted funny,” you pouted, hand settling a little on your stomach that had started showing.

“I know that is why I went and got some different ones, apparently they taste like orange, which I know if something you are currently craving,”

“Is Carisi smiling differently?” Amanda asked, head tilted to the side.

“Yeah, he looks like y/n hung the moon,” Finn huffed.

“It’s kind of adorable,” Amanda muttered.

“She looks happy,” Liv smiled softly. She was glad to see it, you hadn’t looked so happy in months. And she was worried about what being pregnant with Rafael’s baby would do, but apparently Carisi had it all under control.

“Carisi, never brought me home made food when I was pregnant,” Amanda complained.

“That’s cause he wasn’t in love with you,” Finn chuckled as he walked away leaving the other two to watch Carisi moon over you. It was sickeningly adorable and for Carisi’s sake Finn hoped nothing went horribly wrong between the two of you. Finn would hate to have to add a list to the names of those he would shoot on sight. It currently had one.

--

You pouted. And pouted some more. Staring up at the poor man through your lashes. Said man was trying, rather admirable, to ignore you, blue eyes looking anywhere but at you. Your eyes narrowed as you stepped closer to him, puffing out your cheeks.

“Please?” you asked.

“No,” Carisi sighed, rubbing his forehead.

“Carisi,” you whined. “Please.”

“It’s nearly midnight, I am not going out to get you ice cream,”

“But I want pickles and ice cream,” you huffed. “And we only have pickles and no ice cream…oh and sprinkles! With peanut butter, that sounds sooo good. Doesn’t that sound yummy?”

“Sure,” Carisi laughed, this was the fourth time in two days that you had started out wanting something only to find several things to add to it.

“So, you’ll get the stuff?” you bounced lightly on your feet, hands moving to hold your stomach. You were entering your second trimester, and the cravings were only getting stronger.

“Fine, but you are coming with me,” Carisi tapped you on the nose, grinning when you scrunched it up.

“Good idea!” you nodded. “We can get pizza as well.”

“Pizza?” Carisi asked, face scrunching in confusion as he led you out of your apartment. You nodded, grabbing his hand without thinking and tugging him along.

“Yes, now come on.”

--

You weren’t entirely sure when your feelings for Carisi changed from friendship to wanting to always be around him. On the odd night when he wasn’t at yours you missed him, when he went out into the field and you were stuck at the desk doing paperwork, you missed him. And also worried about him an insane amount. You weren’t sure what you wanted to do with this change but you were happy to let things happen when they happened. And you didn’t wanna read into too much but he had been spending more time with you lately, it was very rare that he wasn’t over at yours or you weren’t over at his.  Like right now, the two of you had just finished an amazing dinner that Carisi had made you, and were now watching tv. You had curled up against him resting your head against his chest as his arm wrapped around your waist. You felt content in a way you hadn’t for the longest of times, and you didn’t want anything to change.

Just as you were reaching for the popcorn, your separate bowl that was drizzled with salt, sugar, caramel and chocolate, you felt a pressure in your stomach. You gasped sitting up hand pressed against your stomach.

“What’s wrong?” Caris moved with you, the arm wrapped around your waist tugging you to his side as his eyes moved between your face and your stomach, his other hand hovering over yours. “Are you in pain?”

“No, that’s not it,” you shook your head. “Oh, oh!” you grabbed his hovering hand and placed it where yours was. “The baby is moving.”

Carisi’s whole body felt warm as he felt the light pressure against his hand. His chin came to rest on your shoulder as he looked down at your stomach where your hands were joined together. He tried so hard to ignore the feelings that were building the longer he was around you, this wasn’t suppose to be anything more than a friend helping a friend but the more he watched you bounce happily when you ate his food. Or every time you looked at him with those soft eyes, pouting at him to get your way. It was near impossible to do anything but fall for you. That small little crush of his that had started when he joined the team, that he tried to ignore when he saw you liked Rafael, came back full force about two months into helping you.

“Look at that,” he whispered, his voice directly in your ear causing a small shiver to run through your body.

“Our baby has a strong kick huh?” you asked turning your head a little, nose rubbing against his cheek.

“Our baby?” Carisi felt his brain screech to a holt. You jolted, eyes wide as your own words repeated themselves through your head. Echoing a little in Carisi’s head as well.

“What?”

“You called the baby, ours,” Carisi moved his chin from your shoulder so he could look at you properly, trying hard to keep the smile from his face but there was no way to keep those blue eyes of his from shinning.

“I guess I did,” you nodded slowly licking your lips, suddenly finding it difficult to look at those eyes.

“Did you mean it?”

“I…I did,” you nibbled on your bottom lip, stomach fluttering. “I mean, you’ve taken me to every appointment, you’ve gone with me when I needed to get new clothes, you put up with every little craving I have and…you’re always here for me. Just like you said.” Your hand shook as it rose to cradle his face, thumb stroking just under his eye.

“Darling,” Carisi lent into your hand, those eyes burning bright with hope. “Can I kiss you?”

“You better,” you demanded leaning close to him.

“Gladly,” Carisi chuckled as he closed the distance between the two of you.

The feel of his lips brushing yours made your heart quicken, your hand cupping his cheek moved to cup his jaw as you angled your head, moving your lips against his. His hand on your waist stroked up to hold the back of your head, lightly tangling with your hair and tugging it gently as his tongue swiped out teasingly. You gasped into the kiss when you felt a slightly stronger kick, pulling away from the kiss you looked down where Carisi was stroking your stomach.

“Someone’s a little excited,” you smiled, pressing a kiss against his cheek before leaning back and putting both hands against your stomach. “Do, you wanna stay the night?”

--

“I want this baby out,” you groaned lowering yourself onto the couch next to Carisi holding your shoes in your hand. “I can’t put my shoes on.”

“Give em here,” Carisi rolled his eyes grabbing your shoes and kneeling in-front of you. “It won’t be long now before you give birth.”

“Thank fuck,” you rubbed your stomach giggling at Carisi when he raised an eyebrow at your comment. “Hey, you try growing a baby in you, carrying it for nine months, getting cankles, craving the oddest combination of food ever, having your body change in ways you never even thought about, your back constantly hurting, and finally needing to pee every five minutes.”

“Fair enough,” he focused on putting your shoes on, knowing already not to comment on anything that you just said. Last time he did, you cried. Although when you were crying about having cankles and he tried to be supportive you threw a pillow at him. So really, it was a fifty-fifty how you would respond.

“Come on, let’s go,” you held out your hands making grabbing motions at him.

“Alright, up you come,” Carisi grabbed hold of you and helped you up. You grinned up at him and took a step just before a sharp pain radiated from your stomach. You gabbed hold of it wincing in pain. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m totally fine,” you waved him off. “It’s just my stomach trying to kill me, been happening on and off for like the day.”

“Wait, you said your back was hurting?”

“Yeah so, I’m carrying around a watermelon,”

“Normally, constant back pain can be a sign that you are going into labour,” Carisi said. “And you are getting cramps?”

“Well, I’ve gone nearly two decades with getting cramps and while those where definitely painful these are something much different and are coming closer and closer together,”

“Um, honey,” Carisi started. “I think you might be in labour.”

“What like three weeks early? Pfft, unlikely, my family has a history of being like either exactly nine months or like two weeks late,” you shrugged just as your felt a gush of something wet leaving you. “On the other hand, I think you might be right…my water just broke.”

“Oh shit!” Carisi started to panic. “We don’t have your hospital bag ready and we don’t have our route to the hospital!”

“Dominick!” you shouted lightly tapping him on the cheek. “It’ll be fine. Let’s just go, we can always ask one of the others to get me some things.”

“Right, right,” he nodded. “Let’s go.” His arm automatically wrapping around your lower back to help support you as he offered his other arm for you to take as he led you carefully to the car.

--

“Dom, look it’s our daughter,” you whispered breathlessly staring down in wonder at the beautiful little girl in your arms. You had been worried that she would noticeably look like Rafael but thankfully your baby girl had inherited nearly everything from you, and you hoped that it stayed that way. But it truly didn’t matter. Carisi was her father in every way that counted, and every way that mattered.

“She’s gorgeous,” Carisi’s breathed, eyes wetting with tears as he carefully reached out and gently stroked her cheek. “Just like her mother.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t wipe the smile from your face. Your eyes drifted to the bag that Olivia had brought in for you, when she came in to say hello to your beautiful baby girl, and leaving with a wink.

“Sweetie, can you get something from my bag? It should be right on top,” you nodded towards it, breaking Carisi’s little mutterings that he was making towards your daughter.

“Oh, sure yeah,” he nodded distractedly. You grinned down at your daughter in secret, leaning to press a kiss to her soft little forehead.

“I’ve got a little surprise for your daddy,” you told her.

“Um, babe, is this? Is this what I think it is?” Carisi turned around holding a ring box in his hand, the lid opened to reveal a man’s ring. The band a gorgeous mixture of black, gold and silver intertwining with a hint of blue.

“Dominick Sonny Carisi, you have been my rock for the past near nine months, bringing so much happiness and light into my life,” you started, feeling yourself getting choked up. You blinked furiously. “I fell for you without even noticing. You are the father of my daughter, and without a doubt you are the love of my life. We’re already a family but I think we should make it official. Will you marry me?”

Carisi’s mouth was open, his eyes welling up with my tears as he stared at you, sitting there in the hospital bed holding his daughter. Looking more radiate than he had ever seen you. And all he could do was nod silently and take the ring out of the box and put it on his finger.

[mypunkpansexualtwin]

I gotta say, the BG3 fan artists out there rehydrating our fighters, turning our supermodels and bodybuilders into power lifters, taking the abs away from the backliners, and making that bear a bear?

Y'all are doing god's fucking work.

[mercymaker]

ʟ 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐒𝐈𝐍 & 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐄 ⌝

❝ With the Shadow Curse finally lifted, the weight of a different duty quickly found its way on his shoulders once more. There was a welcome change in its timbre, however, for instead of fighting off loss and despair, endlessly looking for solutions to a hopeless problem, Halsin could now focus on rebuilding and nurturing the ravaged land. Throughout the years, he’d seen many faces; some seeking refuge, others hoping to witness the land flourish once more, and some looking to Thaniel’s realm as the new beacon of hope. As the decades passed by, so did friends from all corners of the Realms—sharing stories of adventuring, healing, or finding purpose after years of aimless wander. The druid would welcome them with open arms and ears, finding comfort in the warm hum of their evolving lives.

When he’d first heard a word of a drow woman seeking him in Reithwin, a cold wave ran down his spine, tugging at the line of memories he’d long kept buried. Yet, the worries melted like morning dew the moment he saw her. The years might have changed her, but his feelings remained the same, and this time, unlike all those moons ago in Rivington, Maleane could finally return them. ❞

[cthulhusstepmom]

Fae!Soap Superstitious Bastard! Ghost: Gifts

(Just a heads up this got way more intense than I meant it to but that’s kind of the Fae for you.)

TW: mentions of torture, human remains

Soap is a collector, though not of any one thing that Ghost can discern. He’s seen the man pick up anything from an abandoned rolex to a nondescript piece of broken glass. It doesn’t seem to be about size, it’s not shape and definitely not value; Ghost had thought he’d pinned it down as things that caught the light a certain way but was swiftly proven wrong when Soap went on a spree of collecting pebbles and sticks. He’d glared sullenly at the first jagged gray rock when Soap had picked it up before swiftly changing the subject when he was noticed. There was no apparent rhyme or reason to any of it… well not quite. There was one singular pattern that stood out in his mind, a single thread that held firm no matter how much he rearranged or plucked at it.

 Anything that Ghost gave him, Johnny kept. 

The first had been a bit of pretty blue ribbon that was a close enough approximation to Soap’s eyes. It’d snagged on a bramble bordering the clearing where Ghost had set up for overwatch. Without even thinking he’d snagged it on his way to RV down the hill, offering it to Johnny in the armored car taking them back to base. Soap hadn’t said a thing. It was then that Ghost realized maybe giving your subordinate a piece of trash you’d found in a bush perhaps wasn’t the most well adjusted way to express affection. He’d been about to play it off with a quip, beginning to retract his fingers ever so slightly, when Johnny snatched it lightning quick from the palm of his hand, holding it close to his chest for a moment before stuffing it into his chest pocket next to his journal. Soap had given him a small strangled “Thank you” as they sat the rest of the ride in an awkward but warm silence. Johnny disappeared almost immediately after they got back to base but Ghost could see light in the space under his door so he wasn’t too worried that he’d done permanent damage to their relationship.

After that his eyes just seemed to catch on things that he assumed Johnny would like. He couldn’t help it. Little glass marbles, a river stone with an interesting marking, a large brown feather; Somehow it all made its way into the hands of his Sergeant. Usually with a gruff “Here”, barely waiting for Johnny to hold out his hands before he dropped his small offering into his gloved palms. Soap has also gotten over whatever his episode of silence had been, responding with a blinding smile and enthusiastic gratitude and a happy quip. (“Thanks Lt!” a piece of antler, Montana “Y’ shouldn’t have!” an old toy car, Finland “Find this on sale?” a scrap of pink fabric, Brazil “Ghost you’re spoiling me.” green river stone, India etc.(no he didn’t catalog all of them that would be creepy. He only wrote down his favorites.))

The next time Ghost thinks he’s permanently damaged their relationship and scared Soap off for good comes after an operation sweeping out an AQ base in Afghanistan. 

It’s stuffy and dark, the blistering heat of the day beginning to fade into the bitter chill of the night. The compound has long since been abandoned by all but the stubbornest of rats, slowly being reclaimed by the wild desert it carved its blackness into. They roll into the courtyard through the open front gate, the outer walls have seen multiple breacher charges and calling them walls at this point is more out of respect than any dedication to accuracy. The whole place has already been swept by drone and Laswell has had satellite eyes on it for months confirming just how fucking dead it is. They’re here for information, the drone identified documents left behind as well as at least two hard drives. 

The 141 has split off, each clearing their own section and radioing in at even intervals, they’ve learned the hard way that it’s better to be safe than sorry. Beyond extra caution, the whole place has an eerie, black aura that drags forth memories of scorpion stings and dull knives biting at his flesh. Assisting in his nightmarish stroll down memory lane, Ghost is assigned the lower levels of the compound. Each room is another scene from a past he tries to forget, filled with rusted over implements of pain and brown stains no one cared to clean. 

Something in the last room makes him pause. 

A small barred window allows light from a waning moon to pool into the room, catching on something on the table. Small, most no bigger than his fingernail, a collection of about five objects sits in a tray on the corner of the table. Brilliant white patches shine in stark opposition to the bed of rust brown they lay on. 

Teeth. Human teeth.

His mind is acting on autopilot when grabs them and stuffs them in a pocket, so similar but so different to his first experience with the ribbon months ago. He finishes his sweep of the room, conveying his findings back on comms (“Seems like we’re late for the party.” “If only you didn’t take so long to get ready.”-Soap “Shut the fuck up the both of you I just saw a rat the size of a terrier.”-Gaz “I’ve got the hard drives if any of you fuckers remember why we’re here.”-Price), and turns back to rendezvous, his mind now firmly on finding his comrades and getting the hell out.

As they start readying themselves to duck into the humvees they arrived in, Ghost’s muscle memory kicks in to complete his self assigned mission objective. He turns to where Soap stands almost expectantly at his side. It’s not every mission that he has something he’s decided is a worthy offering but it has become more often than not. Mind already halfway back to base, a gloved hand chases down each tooth where they’ve burrowed themselves in the pocket of his tac vest, collecting them and dropping them in Soap’s proffered hand with a grunt. His brain turns back on when the bloody bones hit his Sergeant’s glove, panicking because what the fuck did he just do? What kind of fucking sociopath gives his friend(more?) human fucking teeth as a souvenir. Much less human fucking teeth that were pulled forcibly out of some poor bastard’s skull during a bygone torture session. 

His hand is trembling. 

Ghost forces himself to look down and meet Soap’s assuredly outraged and disgusted gaze. 

Only he doesn’t.

Johnny is staring down at the teeth in his palm with a look of fucking reverence. His pupils are dilated beyond just the darkness surrounding them and Ghost’s detail oriented eyes catch the slight flare of his nostrils on every inhale. Soap slowly tilts his head up to meet Ghost’s eyes and a gasp lives and dies in his throat.

“Oh Simon, you treat me so well.” His voice is gravelly and thrumming with an emotion that Ghost doesn’t know the name of. But, god if this is the look he gets after bringing Johnny desiccated human remains?

He’ll rip the teeth out of some unworthy son of a bitch himself.

[steddie-there]

Steve has wanted a rabbit since he was five years old and his kindergarten class went to the zoo and he got to hold a small grey rabbit with the softest ears imaginable.

He even asked his parents for one. But his mother said it was "frivolous" and why would he want such a dirty barnyard animal anyway? And his father said no son of his would ever own such a prissy little animal in the most disgusted tone of voice that Steve never asked again.

But now he and Eddie have their own apartment and he hasn't spoken to his parents in two years and when Eddie catches him staring wistfully at the little balls of fluff hopping around in the pet shop window one day, he manages to coax the whole story out of him. And when Eddie kisses him softly on the forehead like he always does when Steve shares some fucked up bit of his childhood, Steve feels another piece of his heart mend, like he always does when Eddie is soft with him.

What he doesn't expect is Eddie to then pull him into the pet shop and demand he pick whichever rabbit he wants. Or for Eddie to ask the girl working there what they'll need to keep a rabbit in their home. But he listens very attentively to everything she says and half an hour later, they're driving back home with a trunk full of hutch and litter box and food and toys and hay and the tiniest pet carrier on Eddie's lap.

He picks a black one, for Eddie's sake, although it has the littlest spot of white right in the middle of its bitty head, like a tiny kiss mark (Eddie's expression turns oh so soft when Steve says that). When Steve quietly asks Eddie what he thinks they should name it, Eddie immediately suggests Paul.

"Like Paul McCartney?" Steve asks, confused why Eddie would reference the Beatles.

"No, dude, like Paul Stanley, from KISS," Eddie says, accompanied by the most over dramatic "my boyfriend has no taste in music" eye roll.

And then they catch each other's eyes and start laughing so hard Steve almost has to pull the car over.

So now they have an apartment and a rabbit named Paul (McCartney/Stanley) and as they sit curled up together on the couch watching the little guy explore his new home, Steve doesn't think he's ever been happier.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

ao3: And Rabbit Makes Three

[w0lp3rtinger]

Maria, Who Smiles as She Pulls the Lever

You know how this ends. Still, Shadow and Maria. Maria and Shadow. This was meant to be, if only for one glorious, beautiful moment. (Read on A03)

This has been a labor of mine for months.

Listen I’m a bit of a masochist and I may have been obsessed with rereading the ‘unedited’ version of Ann Frank’s diary and subsequently been up late listening to the isolated vocals for ‘Cancer’ by MCR a few too many nights in a row but even then, this has been boiling over in my brain for... ages.

So here we are.

This publication would not have been possible without some tremendous characters to whom I wish to give thanks.

@biolizardboils

@shadowsfascination

@killingthecringe

@bimboamyrose

@lambpaca

@mellow-elbow

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

Maria is from Earth. Sometimes she has to remind herself of this, so that the sterile steel of the ARK doesn’t become too comfortable.

“Dziadzio Gerald will fix you and keep you safe.” “He worked so hard to get this contract.” “You need to be brave.”

This is what she remembers more than the faces.

This is what all the letters keep saying until they stop coming.

Maria works hard to stay well. When she’s well, Grandpa’s there with her, laughing with her, telling her about the work he’s doing. Grandpa is a gentle man, with big calloused hands and wily eyes magnified behind coke bottle lenses.

But the sickness grows. Illuminated x-rays and CT scans seem to almost grow against the wall like strange mold. Silent. Deadly. Grandpa gone for weeks at a time, only to appear weary and quiet as he checks her vitals before giving her new medicine.

Of course he loves her, else he wouldn’t be doing all of this, but she wishes he’d be her grandfather a little bit more and her doctor a little bit less.

Maria, being told not to leave her room.

Why did the letters stop coming?

Maria, being poked and prodded and talked over, rather than talked to or talked with.

When did she start to feel so lonely?

Maria, growing up from a toddler to a child to a teen. The sterile steel world is home now. She doesn’t even remember what flowers smell like anymore. Once, she thought her favorite was poppies. Now, she clings to the idea, even though she can only recall them in their still, cold photos from the biology book on her nightstand.

Maybe that’s why she cries tears of joy when she first spots Abraham, with his sharp pressed trousers and his two-toned eyes. And of course, this scares him. And of course, Maria chases after him as best she can.

She so badly wants a friend.

But he’s younger than she is, he doesn’t want to play the same games. He throws tantrums that leave her with deep black bruises which take ages to heal. Still, it’s frustrating when Abe asks her why she hasn’t been able to play for months, and she turns to the nurse who gives no answer.

She’s never been sure what exactly is wrong with her. Nobody will explain.

They read a lot, and when they run out of books, they make their own.

And one day, when Dziadzio is doing a checkup, with all of the wires and sensors attached to her head when she’s in that big silver tube, she just starts talking. About nothing. About everything. About how little Abe is so annoying, but fun, like a baby brother, especially when they read his kid mysteries together, or when he tells her scary stories, like that of the three-eyed monster man he swears he saw with the goblin in the jar.

When Grandfather snaps at her to be silent, she’s shocked.

Then, she seethes.

Maria, with Abe’s story running through her head.

Maria, gritting her teeth as Abe now keeps insisting, gloating even, that he knows more than she does.

Maria, sitting up in bed one night with a growl, hands bunching the scratchy hospital quilt up in her fists.

The fabric crunches in her hands, and when she beats her palms against it, it crackles. He can be such a brat! She’ll show him! She’ll find the thing he was talking about!

Over-planning is key. There’s no way she can pull off the cool sneaking tactics she’s read about. Instead, she puts on three pairs of socks, both to keep her feet warm and to dull the sound of her footsteps. A few capsules of fish oil she’s supposed to take are broken open, and she’s on the floor, gritting her teeth against the pain in her knees as she rubs its contents all over the wheels of her IV poll, willing it to keep them from squeaking.

Maria creeps through the dark. The hum of the ARK, that constant white noise of her existence, can do nothing to drown out the pounding in her ears. Her lungs are burning as she measures her breaths, knuckles white against the IV poll she’s gripping as she shuffles along. The blackness stretches forever until, from around a closed door, she sees a faint green glow.

She licks her lips as she eyes the keypad at the door, tasting iron.

No matter.

There’s only one shot at getting this code right, but she’s got a pretty good guess as to what it is. And when the lock opens with a beep after she punches in the last letter of her name, she rolls her eyes.

She pretends not to notice the shaking of her hands.

Maria, who cannot help but gasp when she sees the strange dark thing floating in a tube of radioactive green goo, like something straight out of one of Abe’s stories.

No, it is Abe’s story. There is the jar goblin.

She found it.

And it opens an eye to look at her. One dark eye, wide and wild.

Panic swells within her.

Maria, quickly shutting the door, shuffling back to her room as fast as possible. She crawls into bed, but cannot sleep. In the morning, when she is pale and sweaty, when her feet are swollen and her hands stiff, Grandfather comes in only to tell her she’s bed-bound for two weeks.

She spends the time fixated on that single eye.

When Abe slips into her room with arms full of toys and books and crawls into bed, she can’t help but smirk. She has now seen his creature. Now the two of them must keep the secret.

And she knows Abe will keep it, because despite her complaining, Maria also knows he’s probably the best baby brother anyone could ask for.

But it’s not enough.

Maria, heart pounding and fingers tingling with adventure, even if she’s still recovering from her last escapade. She starts stashing away some of her anti-inflammatory medication, keeping it tucked in the bindings of one of her books that has come loose at the spine.

That dark thing in the tube, she wants to see it again.

Abe says in the false whisper of children that he once saw it move, says that he thinks it responds to people talking.

There’s only one way to find out if he’s right.

When she snatches a nearly empty bag of morphine from the pile on the nurse’s cart, Maria almost feels guilty... almost. Just when she’s about to confess, just when she’s about to give up, the faintest flame lights up within her.

She’s angry at the time taken from her. She’s angry at this bed, at this body, at these people who keep poking and prodding and talking at her.

Maria settles down on her pillow, feeling the bag squish underneath her head. She smiles when the nurse asks if she is comfortable, and she promises that she is.

Maria, creeping through the halls, the painkillers already in place and working. She’s slower this time, she knows she has to be, but when she gets to the room, there’s an impossible excitement that builds up within her and cannot be restrained. The door barely has time to close behind her before she’s at the tube. Leaning in, she places one hand on the glass, and the eye opens once more.

Its eyes are so dark. They don’t look black, but she can’t tell what colour they’re supposed to be.

“Hello,” she whispers, smiling. “You are a strange little thing, aren’t you.”

She spends the night slowly moving around the tube, taking it in. It makes sense now why Abe called it a goblin, but Maria is pretty sure that’s just because it’s just all wrinkly skin right now, like a very ugly baby. Still, it has such a soft face. Maria can’t help but hope that whatever skin, or feathers, or- or whatever, is soft. It should be soft.

She thinks she remembers what soft is.

Maria, alone the next day as she brushes her hair, cursing the knots and the burning in her eyes, remembering how Dziadzio promised her that he’d teach her how to braid it, but that was before, and this is now.

She’s stuck in her room again.

The pain isn’t as bad as last time, but it’s still pain.

She still can’t walk.

The rage inside of Maria blooms once more as she looks at her rat's nest of a brush, and she throws it against the opposite wall with a shriek.

With tears staining her cheeks, she falls asleep and dreams.

She dreams of having thick golden hair, the kind that frames the faces of the angles on the pendants she used to get from her one aunt. But suddenly, there in her mind, she sees the dark eyes of the ugly baby. They sparkle as though they’re full of starlight. When she leans in to have a better look, suddenly, she’s falling headfirst into the open and inky void between the ARK and the planet below. Her hair, her beautiful golden hair, it grows longer and longer until it turns into wings. She tries to fly to Earth, but it just keeps getting further away no matter how hard she reaches for it.

Maria, who screams at the professor when she’s told that she can’t see Abe anymore.

“He’s too rowdy,” he keeps saying, “It’s making you sicker.”

It doesn’t matter. She can see him clutching his father’s pant leg, acting as though the camouflage of the fatigues may hide him too, as she rages against the hands trying to hold her down. Her monitor is going wild. The IV poll is overturned. Maria keeps calling his name, keeps hoping he’ll run into the room, into her arms, but instead, little Abe’s father picks him up and leaves.

She stays awake and waits for him, but Abe never arrives. She does this for three straight days.

He never arrives.

Maria, silent in her own tube, the wires and sensors all over her, staring straight ahead. The lab tech tries to make small talk, but even if Maria wanted to answer, the professor tells them to shush.

“We have work to do,” he says, “We must preserve what we have as quickly as possible.”

As if he is talking about perishable groceries. Maria can feel her nails break in her palm as she balls her hands into fists.

One of the nurses does finally bring a card from Abe. It’s a drawing of the two of them playing in a field full of flowers, a bright sun overhead wreathed in birds. Maria smashes it into a ball and throws it in the trash.

Later that evening though, she stretches as far as she can to dig through the bin and find the card. She cries as she tries to smooth its creases. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, over and over, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Maria, being fitted for an oxygen tube. She hasn’t had to wear one of these in a while, and can’t help but fight the nurse a little. Over their muttered curses, Maria can hear the professor in the hallway talking to some looming shape she cannot make out.

“I’m hoping the gizoid will keep them distracted, but I’m not sure how much time that will buy us. Especially if this one dies on us like the others.”

And everything in her clenches.

Maria, pouring her IV nutrients into a spare commode in the closet.

Maria, stashing vitamins away in bent bookbindings.

Maria, sweat on her brow as she pictures that tiny creature all alone in that room, darkness closing in.

They will not die. They will not die. They will not die.

Maria, who gags when she combines her ill-gotten goods into a foul slurry. With one hand over her mouth, she takes deep breaths before pulling the commode out of the closet.

She’s slow. She’s careful. She’s thankful this thing has wheels that can lock and unlock, because she’s going to use it as a walker. There is no other option if she wants to carry all of this.

She squares her shoulders and slips out into the hallway.

She will not think about how much this is going to hurt tomorrow. There’s a job to do.

Maria, who punches her own name again into the keypad, who grits her teeth as she wheels herself over to the little baby in the tube.

Their eyes flicker open when she lays her hand atop the glass. What light was in their eyes from before is fading fast.

She will not let it see her fear.

“Hello, you.”

They blink, a slow, lazy movement. She can’t help but laugh a little.

“My name is Maria. Sorry I didn’t introduce myself sooner. Don’t suppose you can tell me your name, can you?”

Silence. They blink again.

“I heard you were sick, so I’ve brought some stuff that might make you better.” she says as she moves around the tube, looking. “It won’t taste good, but… ah!”

There are two large drums that hook into where the little thing floats silently, and they open when Maria presses a button on top. She can see the same green liquid, viscus and thick, as it is slapped about by a rotating filter.

There’s no way she can lift the commode up to pour everything in.

Maria, who stays there for well over an hour. She’s cupping the nutrients in her hands, letting it go through her fingers and into the vortex below.

She hasn’t prayed in a long time. Truthfully she’s not even sure a god would listen.

Instead, she just hopes.

She hopes the filter won’t suck all of her hard work away, hopes she doesn’t get caught, hopes that maybe, please, maybe, the ugly baby will live.

When she has to take a break, she closes the lid of the commode and sits there, watching those large eyes watch her back, and somehow, she finds the will to keep hoping.

Maybe she’ll find out what colour their eyes become, if this all goes right.

By the time Maria gets back to bed, it’s nearly morning. Her limbs ache, and she can’t eat breakfast, but she’s grinning from ear to ear.

Maria, writing letters back and forth with Abe for weeks through the nurse whose name she now knows is Eleni. Eleni, with dark eyes, and dark skin, and the darkest, curliest hair that Maria had ever seen in her life. She can’t help but feel a bit guilty that she’s never taken the time to get to know this woman. Eleni doesn’t care though. She waves a hand, “You have been sick, too sick for anything else, and you’ve only gotten sicker since they took that little boy away. You have nothing to apologize for.”

And Eleni says she comes from Apotos, and Eleni sighs wistfully about the way the breeze smelled coming in from the ocean, and Eleni talks with both hands about the way the sun burned into dusk over the olive groves near her home.

Eleni, Eleni, Eleni.

Maria repeats it, paying attention to the way her mouth and tongue and teeth come together around her name.

She feels so bad when she steals front the medcart now, but somehow, she thinks that Eleni would understand.

Perhaps that’s just to ease her conscience.

Maria, who feels a gloom call from the hallway.

“And how does Project Shadow proceed?”

There is no voice, and yet, the words cut the air like the imagined hiss of a very real gas leak. It conjures strange visions of swirling pitch behind Maria’s eyes.

Every hair she has left is on end.

A threat. It moves, it breathes, as a threat.

But then there is her grandfather’s familiar rumble of a voice, low and tumbled on his tombstone teeth. She’s almost grateful the speaker and the professor go further down the hall, away from her doorway, taking the murk with them.

That night, she holds her pillow tight and curls inward, as if her whole body can protect the name it dropped in the hallway, the name she now keeps tucked in her own mouth. She imagines spikes growing from her, like great big sharp spines, keeping them safe by filling the room to the point where that voice and its owner would never be able to get near them again.

Still, it haunts her.

“Are you Shadow?” she asks, standing at the tank as she dries her hands off on the skirts of her shift.

The baby is now covered in dark fur, rich and deep, with little curls in the quills atop their tiny head. There’s a little scarlet, too, starting to show from under the black almost like the faint fingers of a polar aurora as they stretch toward the equator. What makes her most excited though, are their eyes. They’re a livid red now, flecked with gold, wide and wild. When they tilt their head at her words, it’s hard not to imagine an actual glint of curiosity flashing in them.

She giggles. “I wasn’t sure at first if that was a good name for you. In fact, I had started a list of alternatives.”

Maria tilts her head opposite the way the little baby tilts theirs. After a moment, it adjusts to match her.

“Darkness is just darkness. I know the books and all try to make it out to be something bigger, but it’s not.” She shakes her head. “But the more I thought about it… well, maybe it is fitting. You can always turn to a shadow to find the light, you know. That’s sort of poetic. At least, I think so.”

Maria purses her lips against the tightness in her heart. When she rests her hand against her chin, bowing her head to think, they copy her.

She laughs, and the gloominess is dispelled.

And she keeps laughing every time she thinks about that moment, even if it hurts.

Maria, who keeps visiting the baby in the tube, though now she has to admit it looks less like a baby and more like a- well, she’s not sure. Her grandfather used to show her photographs and sketches of ancient artifacts from excavations on the Earth below, things that inspired him with his research.

Perhaps this is to look like that one thing in that mural he is so fond of.

Maria sneers. She knows the professor only likes that mural because he thinks the other figure depicted there in the ancient tilework is him.

How egotistical.

It doesn’t matter. What matters is that she will not let Shadow die.

There are nights where, with tears staining her cheeks, she falls asleep and dreams of Shadow, dreams of them growing the most beautiful dark curls, dreams of knowing how to braid so that she can teach them how to braid, dreams of being friends.

There are nights when she hears that murky whispering in her head though, and the dreams turn to nightmares.

Eyes, watching. Thoughts, hissing. A hunger unlike anything else, eating.

Maria, who in the morning wakes up and draws her and the tube baby dancing together on the backsides of used sticky notes. She can’t get the stars right. They always end up upside down. It doesn’t matter though. In this moment, all she thinks about is watching Shadow learn to crawl, to walk, to run, to dance. She wants to teach them how to dance. She wants to grab them and run through the halls to dance through the wide space of the observatory like she used to.

She wants them to dance for hours on end until they run out of breath and their feet are sore.

Maria hums a tune she heard Eleni singing.

She keeps humming even as she shreds the drawings to hide her dreams.

Maria, who finds one day she cannot hold the pencil. Her hands feel numb, fingers thick and fumbling. She keeps trying, but it doesn’t get any better no matter what she does, so she hides it. Everything becomes gross motor. Everything becomes careful. Her hands don’t need to be perfect in order to take what she needs, but she still needs to fit the part of perfect patient.

So she is patient.

But Maria can’t steal the used IV bags anymore, can’t cup her hands to move the slurry from the commode to the vats anymore. She has to change tactics.

Maria, who holds onto a shaky smile for her little friend as they watch her struggle to flip her sweater pocket inside out and shake the fat pills into the swirling tank water below.

“You’re getting so big,” she whispers, “I knew you could make it. I’m so proud of you, Shadow.”

Maria places a hand to the glass and watches amazed as they lift their own and try to press it against hers. They’re so close. They’re right there. Only a thin panel of glass separating their two palms.

And all the little hand-drawn, upside-down stars in her head alight.

But the empty days start to become longer, become worse.

These are the hours where she is too tired to think.

These are the moments when she can’t even cry.

The next time she sees the professor, it’s been ages. He’s smiling. She had almost forgotten what that looked like, but there he is, mustache twitching upwards as he throws his hands into the air.

“I have wonderful news,” Grandpa says as his big hands settle on her bony shoulders. “We have potentially found a cure.”

Maria can’t speak, let alone understand much of what is being said. That doesn’t matter. The professor just keeps talking about his latest medical advancements until Eleni comes in for the evening meds and tells him he has to leave.

There’s no letter from Abe this time.

She doesn’t sleep that night.

The rage boiling in her doesn’t let her rest.

Maria, watching the injection dissipate through her skin as it enters her bloodstream. There’s a golden glint to it, glittering like what she imagines fairy dust to glitter like, moving like what she imagines ambrosia to move like. Still, there’s something about it that stops her cold if she squints too hard. Maria takes measured breaths through her nose, expression blank, as the professor lectures the attending aids and scientists on what is happening.

Then, she recognizes it. That glowing pallor. Even if the red hue underneath it is vibrant and rich, and the golden glitter shines so invitingly, she would know that glow from anywhere.

All it takes is one attendant to point at her spiking heart rate and it all goes south fast.

She stares at her hands in the dark of the room when it’s all over. Her skin carries that light within it now, a soft radiance, and she swears to herself that if they hurt her friend, she will cut these hands of hers apart to return what was taken.

But the next day, she can pick up a pencil again.

She can talk again.

She hates it. Hates the professor, hates the nurses, hates the scientists and the attending aids and the way it takes the blood of her little friend to feel this alive again.

She hates herself.

It’s another month before the professor finally outfits Maria in an electric wheelchair. It’s not particularly fast, but it doesn’t need to be. He says he didn’t do it sooner because they didn’t see her as being strong enough. The professor laughs at this while he ruffles what is left of her hair. She’s been so good, he says. She’s gotten so much better.

Maria smiles to hide her gritted teeth.

She imagines the flesh of his hand between them.

She wants to see Shadow. Needs to see them. Every night in her mind she walks herself down the hallway. The pinpad appears on the ceiling of her room like a mirage, and she has found herself reaching out a hand to input her name.

How dare it be her name. How DARE he use her name in that way. Like this is even about her anymore.

But she must be on her best behavior, no matter what happens. She will do whatever they ask of her, smiling.

She’s worried they’ll take her new wheelchair away if she doesn’t, and she’s already figured out how to take the speed limiter off.

“You can say something if we’re pushing you too hard.” All the nurses say that. It’s the first thing out of everyone’s mouth when she slips up, and it loops like a broken record around the room.

But she just shakes her head and keeps on smiling.

In her dreams, she floats in space with her golden hair and golden wings and her little Shadow, where together they watch the ARK sail straight into the sun.

When did she become so angry?

It frightens her some days, but then pain sets in and she remembers.

They will not take everything from her. They might try, but they won’t succeed.

Maria, back in her wires, in her tube. She doesn’t even feel it when they push the needle into her anymore, her wrists and inner elbows pockmarked by the years spent watching a slow dripping life.

But now, she’s watching the life of her little friend, bagged and hooked up to her IV pole. Now, she’s watching that spark in their eye, distilled and packaged and scrubbed for her consummation, make its way down the tube.

She hates it. Get it out. Make it stop.

Stop.

But Maria is so, so tired.

Was this the moment to say they were pushing her too hard? Or had that moment passed? Or had it only been offered as a formality?

It had been so long since she had been here. She forgot how tight and lonely it is inside the tube, and she wonders if this is how Shadow feels all the time.

Where is her little friend? She wants to hold her little friend.

She doesn’t realize she fell asleep until she wakes with a start, back in her own room, in her bed. When she presses a hand to her eyes with a yawn, she hears something shift beside her.

There sits the professor, watching.

He’s not smiling.

“Maria, is there something you have to tell me?” He says, but the way he speaks has that coiling, hissing gloom within it.

She says no, and she says no as sweetly as she can, hiding the way her heart monitor starts to go faster by sitting up in bed and feigning dizziness. Normally, that works.

It doesn’t this time.

“Maria, I need you to tell me. What is the little creature you keep harping on about?”

She freezes at that.

What has she done? Did she say something in her sleep?

But again, she says no.

“You’re lying to me.”

How does he know?

Just an imaginary friend, nothing more.

“Maria, what have you done?”

It’s like he’s reading her thoughts.

It’s been lonely since they said she and Abe can’t play. Please, she’s tired. Please, go away.

Instead, he stands up, reaching for her with wide empty eyes.

Eleni saves the day just in time. “Doesn’t your granddaughter need rest, sir?” The words break across her teeth, as if she is shattering a glass in warning.

The professor doesn’t even react. He just stands there, still watching Maria. It takes Eleni using the call bell to get help from the aids to remove him, and even then, he turns his head to stare as he leaves.

It is the first time Maria has cried in a long time.

Eleni holds her. She puts Maria’s head to her chest and rocks softly, humming the song she loves so much in that voice she loves so much, smelling of something that makes her heart cave in around a black hole of hurt.

It’s Eleni who dries her tears and teaches her how to braid.

She takes sets of spare shoelaces from the nurse's supply room and spends hours with her, going over all sorts of different techniques. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she whispers everything like it’s a secret until all that fills Maria’s head is the soft sounds of her voice that roll over her brain like ocean waves.

Eleni lets Maria keep the shoelaces, and Maria stays up all night practicing to beat back the memory of how the professor looked at her.

Maria, weeks later, who sits up in bed when Abe walks in. It’s been- how long has it been? How much time has passed since she has seen him. He’s gotten taller, and his face has gained a sharp edge around the chin.

They stay there, watching one another. An aid tries to chip through the silence with a few surface-level pleasantries, but neither one of them give. Ultimately, the aid leaves.

Abe steps forward. “We need to get you out of here.”

How much can a voice change? And how severe can a person become? The boy standing before her now is no longer the baby brother she had loved. No, this person is a stranger, both the boy and the weight he seemed to carry about his shoulders.

Maria stays silent.

“Something bad is going to happen.” Abe walks closer, but stops short of the bed. He could reach out, he could sit down. Instead, he stands there, just a little over an arm's distance away.

Something bad has been happening. He just hasn’t been paying attention. Brat. Selfish brat. She wants to hug him and cry as much as she wants to beat him with her IV pole. Where has he been? Why did he stop writing?

Abe isn’t looking at her. His gaze is fixed on nothing over her shoulder as his hands slowly come up and twist their fingers into knots before him. “That thing the professor talks with, it’s been hanging around, and my dad’s been getting nervous. He’s been talking on the phone he’s not suppose to have. That’s bad.”

Maria grits her teeth, hands curling into fists in her sheets. Abe’s gaze finally shifts to hers, hard as stone.

“We have a plan. When we go to leave, I’ll come get you. You can’t tell anyone though, got it?”

She nods, and Abe leaves.

Jokes on him. She’ll already be gone.

Maria, braiding the laces over and over as cold fire certainty seeps into her bones. Abe might not have the patience to get many details in his stories right, but he did have a good sense of danger.

She looks at her hands. Perhaps it is just her imagination, but she swears she can still see her veins glowing faintly.

They’ll both be long gone.

It feels like every day is a day in eternity, waiting to see them again. She has nightmares of the light in her veins growing brighter as the light in their own eyes fade. Her friend shrivels before her, curling into a ball as their skin turns ashen. Eyes struggle to stay open, rolling under closing lids, breathing labored and heavy as they try to look for her and can’t.

Maria, drowning in her golden hair, screams and screams and screams.

Her hands still hurt when she wakes from visions of trying to break the glass.

But finally, she is well enough. Finally, she can be with her friend.

The braiding shoelaces in her hand shake, soaking in sweat, as she checks to make sure they are alright.

“I don’t know how well you can see,” she mutters as she knots the laces around the head support of a nearby office chair at the base of Shadow’s tube. “How’s that? Is that okay?”

When she looks up, she can’t help but smile. They’ve gotten so big. The colour along their arms and legs is a deep and healthy red, their eyes bright and alert.

Those quills, oh, those thick dark curls, just like Maria had dreamed, streaked through with that red.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispers, shaking her head. “I had hoped you’d be.”

Shadow bends down slowly in their tube, crouching toward the bottom to come closer to where Maria sits. It was then she noticed the faint eruption of white hairs coming in just under their collarbone, over their heart.

She smiles. “Still so full of surprises.”

It takes another two months for Shadow’s chest fur to come in. It’s a beautiful shock of white against the black, like a moon against the infinite sky.

Reflecting the light, pointing the way.

Maria imagines what it will feel like as she runs her fingers through the fresh peach fuzz on top of her head.

Shadow really is a poetic name.

Maria whispers their name over and over, placing it next to hers.

Shadow and Maria. Maria and Shadow. Say it often enough and it sounds like it’s meant to be true.

They are friends. It doesn’t matter that they’ve never held hands, or braided for each other, or danced.

Though she really wants to dance.

They are friends. She etches it into the wall behind her headboard with an errant safety pin just to see it somewhere that cannot be erased.

Maria and Shadow.

One day. One day. It’ll happen. Shadow will be strong enough to get out of the tube and they’ll do whatever they want forever.

But she’s out of time now.

There is screaming, and gunshots, and screaming, and bursting pressure valves, and screaming, and crying, and just so much screaming.

Maria, who leaves Abe in the care of Eleni, telling her of Abe and his father’s plan, telling Abe to take her and run, telling them both to be safe.

There’s so many tears. There’s so many grabbing hands.

The way Abe’s big eyes glow under the red lights, the way Eleni’s voice snaps when she screams her name.

Maria, rocketing down the hall as fast as she can. Even with the limiters removed from her wheelchair, she feels like she is moving in slow motion. The flashing lights throw strange shapes across her vision, things that make her jump away from the edges of hallways and peer around corners.

She hopes Abe and his dad will keep Eleni safe. She doesn’t want to think about what might happen if Abe’s father says no.

Maria’s wheelchair skids to a halt just outside the door. She measures her breathing as she stands to push her name into the pinpad. The thundering of boots is getting closer and closer.

They round the corner just as she slips in through the door. There’s no time to get back in the wheelchair and bring it inside.

“Shadow!” She’s gasping, stumbling towards the tank. “We’ve got to go!”

And Shadow looks at her, eyes blazing.

The inquisitive brow, the near ethereal calm they normally possess, is gone. Now, there is a panic in them, palpable and real as they spin in helpless circles. She watches them shake as she collapses atop the console.

Maria, pushing every button she can, throwing every switch. Lights start to flash. Somewhere, there is a high-pitched beeping, followed by a low-toned alarm. Nothing works. It’s all in lockdown.

They’re spinning faster.

There’s shouting from the other side of the door. More gunshots. Down a hallway, there is the sound like a bomb going off. Something roars.

She freezes at the horrid, strangled sound. What could have caused that? What has the professor really been doing?

Focus.

She strikes the glass with a snarl as she viciously tugs on the lever, but nothing budges.

She smacks the tube again. Something in her wrist cracks. It doesn’t matter. She clenches her hands and beats the glass.

Again.

She’s screaming.

Again.

She’s beating the glass with her firsts and screaming. Every atom of her being seems to burst into flame as the rage she’s worked so hard to keep in check bursts forth from her skin.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Her forehead is pressed to the cool glass, though it does nothing to dull the burning ache in her brain. Tears stream down her face, and she’s biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, when suddenly, she feels a thump.

Then there’s another thump, a rippling vibration, and Maria snaps to attention.

Shadow is hitting the glass. It’s gentle, but they’re doing it, eyes darting between two sets of fists under that perpetually knotted brow.

Maria, gasping, smiles.

“That’s it.” she says, “just like that!”

And she hits the tube with both hands, making sure Shadow can see her, making sure they can understand just how hard she’s trying.

“You can do it. I know you can. Come on, Shadow!”

There’s a pause. Something comes over Shadow’s face, an expression she doesn’t know the name for. As they rear back, she swears she sees a flash of that green glow in their eyes just before they slam the glass with clenched fists.

The tube does more than shatter, it explodes. Maria ducks just as water and glass go flying. Overhead the alarms reach a new frenzied pitch, then buzz, then break their speakers. Bulbs buzz brightly and burst.

It’s dark, save for a few errant lights on the edges of the room. As the last tinkling pieces settle on the floor, she looks up.

And there they are.

Finally.

Maria, grinning so hard it hurts. She watches them take their first breath, chest expanding as their eyes go wide, as their hands come up in front of them like they’re just now seeing them for the first time.

Finally.

Maria, laughing, sobbing, as she struggles to her feet, only to fall forward as she wraps her little Shadow in the tightest hug she can.

Finally.

He’s so gross. Slippery and soggy and damp. It doesn’t matter.

Maria and Shadow.

Shadow and Maria.

Together at last.

Maria, who wants to say so much, who wants to do so much, but there’s no time. There are soldiers outside, their guns still warm. They may think to check here. They may beat down the door to shoot her where she stands, and what is she doing?

Hanging off of her friend, her knees give out underneath her as her lungs struggle to catch the air. The room is spinning, but she feels Shadow’s arms come up and around her, she feels them hold her, hug her back.

Their quills are cold to the touch and smooth like laquer, but the fluff of their chest, damp as it is- she knew they would be soft, she knew it.

There’s another boom, closer this time. She holds Shadow tighter.

It’s getting so hard to see.

Maria, who tries to be brave, who takes a deep breath she cannot keep as she looks into her friend’s wide, innocent stare.

“There’s an escape pod room. I-I think I can figure out the way. If we get there, then we’re free.”

Her voice is a rough whisper, but swallowing just makes her throat hurt. Instead, she takes Shadow’s hand in hers and smiles as she points to the door.

Their first steps to the door are tottering, unsure ventures, and she cannot help but groan when she sees the broken remains of her wheelchair. But it’s fine. This is fine. Her knees are screaming. If only for just this moment, she wants to take it slow.

She’ll need her energy when they make a run for it.

Maria and Shadow, looking up and down the hallway. Shadow just stares, tightening and relaxing their grip on her hand. Though she would love to marvel at the feeling, her hair is standing on end as she listens with bated breath.

But no one is coming.

Maybe there is no one left.

Maria and Shadow, shuffling down the hall. It’s all small steps and furtive glances. The gunfire sounds further away now, moving toward the ARKs core. She swears she can feel the floor shake beneath her feet, and wonders if something has exploded below.

From the belly of the beast, she hears another roar and shivers.

“Left,” she says. It comes out as a croak.

Shadow just looks at her. Maria has to point, and then lead them down the hallway to the left, to get them to understand.

Maria and Shadow, wandering the halls. Neither say much. Truthfully, there’s nothing Maria can think of to say. Her whole body feels like it’s being shaken apart by her own frail bones

But her little friend’s hand feels so warm in hers.

She sees blood.

“Wait.”

Shadow looks at her again, at her hand tugging on their own. The growing pool of blood creeps closer, closer, closer to the tips of their bare toes against the steel.

They step back to her.

Maria licks her lips.

“Close your eyes.”

She tries to pantomime for Shadow to understand. It’s not working. All she accomplishes is that slow, lazy blink. Maria pulls them to her, turning them around as she rests her forearms on their shoulders and covers their eyes with her hands. She pushes lightly, and they walk forward.

Good. She can do this. She can do this.

Maria and Shadow, rounding the corner. The body is slumped against the wall closest to them. Maria’s mind played tricks, told her she surely knew them, but that grey hair and those wrinkles could have belonged to anyone. She swallows as she leads Shadow forward, wincing against the warmth as the blood soaks into her socks.

Focus

She doesn’t want to look at the body.

In the periphery of her vision, she sees the brackish red smattering their teeth.

Her eyes narrow on the center of Shadow’s quills.

She doesn’t remove her hands until they make it to the other side, down the hall, and around the corner. The bile in her throat burns, but her little friend will not see. They will not know.

Maria and Shadow, their hands slowly coming up to cover hers atop their eyes, and she pulls them away. As they look around, their gaze begins to drift towards their feet, towards the bloody footprints they have left behind them.

“Don’t!” The word snaps in her mouth like a firecracker.

Keep their eyes on her.

Maria catches their face in her hands. She turns them toward her, and maybe she is gripping too hard, and maybe they know something is wrong, but she smiles against her singed tongue anyway.

“It’s nothing. We have to keep going. Okay?”

She nods. After a moment, Shadow nods too, and Maria’s smile softens.

The hallway behind them collapses in a burst of fire.

Maria and Shadow, falling to the floor. Smoke and ash fill her lungs as her ears pop from the sudden change in pressure. She reaches for them, curls one arm about their thrashing head and the other around their body as she pulls them under her as best she can.

Not that she could shield them from much, but that will not stop her from trying.

It’s all too much. The burst of heat that throws her skirt about her knees, the sudden onrush of gunfire and popping flames. Her legs feel useless. They kick and fail and can gain no purchase against the steel, but she has to find something. If she doesn’t—

There’s that roar, louder, closer. Maria lifts her head just enough to see a soldier screaming as it pours bullets into something moving through the din.

She covers Shadow’s ears just before it gets to the soldier. The sound it makes–

She gags, looking away.

They have to run.

She can’t run.

She has to find a way.

Maria and Shadow, sliding slowly down their dangling piece of hallway. Maria reaches out to grab a piece of twisted rebar. She can feel the flesh of her hand prickle against the heat.

Her grip tightens.

They will not die here.

From seemingly nowhere, there are soldiers flooding their hallway. They’re yelling, pointing. One lifts their gun to aim.

She clutches Shadow tighter to her.

And in an instant, they’re gone.

The monster rises from the dark corner, trailing behind its arm that now lies embedded within the chest of the soldier. The man twitches like a puppet, limbs jerking as their head rolls back onto their shoulders, before being cast aside.

Pandemonium.

Gunfire and flames, explosions, sirens. It is too much. An errant bullet tears through her nightgown and on instinct she recoils, almost losing her grip.

Figure it out. She has to figure this out. She has to get them out.

“Shadow!” Maria looks at her little friend, uncovering his ears as she shifts her grip. “I need you to help me.”

They just stare, fear in every inch of their face.

“I need you to pull me up.”

Can they understand her? Do they know what she’s asking for?

She hoists her arm holding him as best as she is able, just a little, then pulls on the arm clinging to the rebar. Joints pop. Tendons strain.

She wants to cry so badly, but she will not. She will be brave. They have made it so far.

And against all odds, she sees the light of understanding come through the fear in Shadow’s eyes.

Shadow twists out of her grasp. They move in ways they shouldn’t, their body contorting as claws reach out and pierce the steel of the dangling hallway floor like it is made of cotton. Shadow doesn’t crawl. They scuttle. It’s the only word she can find to describe what she is witnessing. They scuttle like a bug up the floor and out of the hole back into the hallway.

Don’t think about it too hard.

And then their hands come down, red and black and clawed, but still such gentle palms, and with one movement, it grabs her own hand still clinging to the rebar and gives an almighty tug.

And she flies up-

(her shoulder dislocates)

- and out of the hole.

The impact against the floor forces the air from her, releases the sounds of pain she has kept locked tight for so long. She’s gasping, choking and coughing on tears.

“Damn it.” She curls in on herself, clutching her shoulder. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!”

Shadow and Maria, there on the floor.

Safe, but for how long?

Her little friend is crouched next to her, huddling over her, and through watering eyes, she realizes they are trying to shield her just as she did them. Their face is close, eyes etching a pattern into her skin as they rove across her.

They’re afraid.

For her, of her - doesn’t matter.

Maria takes her good arm, the one that can still move, and lifts it to pat Shadow’s face.

“Thank you,” she says softly. “You did such a good job, and you’re being so brave. I’m so proud of you.”

Their eyes soften.

But this moment cannot last.

Maria and Shadow, one dragging the other to their feet, stumbling down the hall. She swears they’re close to the escape pod room, but she can’t be sure. And then what? She not sure she’ll know how to work the controls. Nobody ever told her. Nobody ever thought Maria Robotnick, after all the attempts at saving her Grandfather has done over the years, would have to save herself, let alone her little friend.

Maria grits her teeth. Nobody ever thought she could do anything by herself, and here she is, not even able to walk alone.

Useless arm. Useless legs. Useless, useless. She was too slow. Deadweight walking. The sounds of gunfire behind them echoes through the hallway. She’s going to get them killed. She should have just told Shadow to leave. Maybe then it would have been her body slumped against the wall, her blood they would have to run through, but at least they could run.

But who saved Shadow in the first place?

She looked to her little friend, who looked back up at her with those wide, bright eyes.

Maria feels her heart beat in her chest. It vibrates in her fingertips, shakes the air in her lungs as she breathes.

She did. She saved them.

Her good hand grips Shadow’s shoulder.

“Right,” she whispers, pointing.

Shadow carefully steers them around the corner, and there stands the door she’s been looking for. The sign panel next to it is a little melted, the floor pockmarked with bullet holes from one level down, but it’s a door, and it looks like the power here is still on.

Shadow doesn’t have to worry about the raw-edged metal around the holes in the floor, but Maria does. She stands on her toes, ankles wobbling, as she opens the panel next to the door. A hand scanner, not a pin pad, stares back at her.

She breathes a sigh of relief as she places her hand atop the screen.

Shadow hisses.

Maria fumbles, turning around to see Shadow’s eyes wide, claws and teeth bared. No longer do they look like her sweet, soft friend. In this moment, they are alien. The sound coming from them – maybe it isn’t a hiss, maybe it’s something else– there’s a strange clicking in there somewhere- it echoes along the hallway, rolling like a rogue marble, only getting louder as it goes on.

Maria grabs him by the head, palm flat against his quills.

“Stop! Someone will-!”

She turns a little further, and there, turning back around down the hall, was a soldier.

Shadow’s hissing grows louder. Maria could feel their quills under her hand bristle and bite flesh. The soldier seemed frozen in place.

Then, the door opens.

Maria, grabbing Shadow and falling backwards through the opening, rolling out of the way as a shot rings out. The door closes behind them again and two deep dents break its sterile smoothness.

Shadow wriggles in her arms, teeth gnashing they try to break free. Maria clings to them tighter.

“Shh!” Maria doesn’t have a good grip. “Shh- it’s okay! We’re okay! Shadow, please!”

She pets them even though it hurts her hands. It’s the only thing she can think to do. For a moment, Shadow goes still. Their gaze flickers back to her, and Maria can see them recognize her once more.

The soldier beats his fist against it. “You need to open this door! If you don’t, I can’t guarantee your safety!”

Shadow’s hackles start to rise once more.

“Ignore him!” It comes out as a wail despite her best efforts, “Leave him alone, we’re almost out of here!”

“Open the door!”

“No!”

Maria and Shadow, one dragging the other. She’s doing her best but they’re being so stubborn, and she’s only got one working arm. Tears are rolling down her face as her knees scream in protest. She can see the last escape pod right there, in the middle of the room. And there, against the wall, that looks like the control panel. If she can figure it out, they’ll be out of here!

But Shadow is not making this easy. They want to fight, but there is no time to fight.

“Go!” Maria points to the open pod. “Go stand there! Now!”

Shadow won’t comply. It’s getting hard to touch them, let alone hold them. Their quills pierce her skin like needles.

With a snarl, Maria changes directions, moving for the escape pod with Shadow in tow. She has to push and shove to get them up and inside, but eventually, they get the message.

Behind her, there is a burst of gunfire, and then the door is forced open.

Maria’s hand hits the red button at the base of the escape pod faster than she can think. In an instant, the glass door comes down between her and Shadow. She can hear Shadow’s muffled screaming as she turns to face the gun.

“Stop!”

Maria blinks. She looks past the shaking barrel to the person holding it, watching as they seem to almost shrink as she makes eye contact with them through their visor.

They’re a boy, not much older than her. It’s obvious as soon as she sees it. They’re just a boy.

The gun jerks.

“Get away from there.” There’s a hard edge to his voice, a falsehood of control. He’s trying to be brave, just like she is.

She hears thumping behind her, the screaming getting louder. Maria is sure if she were to look, she would see Shadow pounding on the glass.

The boy cocks his gun and fires a shot just to the side of her, making her jump.

“I said get away from there!”

The lights in the room flicker

Something shifts deep within, and for a moment, Maria is outside of herself looking in, watching, knowing what is coming. The anger- that burning furious need to cry, to scream, to fight- in an instant, it is choked out by the crystalline peace that floods her soul.

She hasn’t prayed in a long time.

Maria, slowly reaching behind her and grabbing the lever labled ‘emergency’ at the base of the escape pod.

“Don’t do anything stupid!” The boy is yelling again, but that can’t hide the fact his gun is shaking in his hands.

She’s not even sure a god would listen, but it doesn’t matter.

Maria, slowly turning to Shadow to look one last time at the light in those wide, bright eyes. It’s as if the two of them are alone in the silent vacuum of space. Everything is cold. The view is clear.

Shadow and Maria. Maria and Shadow. This was meant to be, if only for one glorious, beautiful moment.

She hopes she’s been a good enough friend, hopes the escape pod does its job, hopes that maybe, please, maybe, Shadow will get to Earth, and live, and be happy.

Maria, who smiles as she pulls the lever.

[r3d-ca9]

mordecai is taller than me but i bet i could pick him up, which would probably infuriate him

he'd be talking to lilith about something and i would sneak up from behind and just fuckin SWOOP. SNATCHED.

yelling at me to put him down before he yadda yadda yadda-

i wouldn't be able to hold him up for too long anyways but when i do release him he'd immediately turn around like "WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM"

i am shrugging innocently. lilith is giggling. tina owes me $20 because she said i wouldn't do it.

[photographypunk]

Gotta love that while being in many fandoms and oftentimes want specific scenarios and such story wise apparently fucking Scriddler is that special thing that gets me willing to work on shit

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

do-do you have any pictures of the little meow-meow (that you're willing to share of course)? i have such a warm spot for ginger kitties even though i have 2 black cats and a tabby LMAO 🥺🥺🥺

YES OFC I LOVE FLAUNTING HER HERE'S A LIL COLLECTION

(+ her brother for scale & cuteness & also it would be criminal not to include him. he is very sweet and Very soft. and he's normal cat size, she's just Small)

[talentforlying]

priest: i don't, ah, quite know what to say to you. if you are in such terrible danger, why are you taking it all so calmly? constantine: hmh! i dunno, father. i had a bloke beaten to a pulp earlier this evening. that sound calm to you? priest: you did what...? constantine: i must've been off me bleedin' rocker. i've never done anything like it before in me life, y'know?

constantine: but there's header gets his guts blown out, and george is stickin' his head in the noose, and helen gets ... jesus, then friggin' sarah bites me head off — ! everything's coming to bits in me hands and it's so easy to just see red and now, shit, they could've killed the tosser for all i know! and now i'm just like the bastards i've hated all me life! kill him! fire him! close them down! piss all over him! screw you, i can do whatever i want! i so much as blink and you're dead, pal! i'm in charge!! ...

constantine: 'scuse me, father. i'm always like this when i don't get me own way. — hellblazer #81, "rake at the gates of hell pt. 4"

babygirl you are just....so, sooooo offputting. (and grieving, and guilty, and terrified, but yeah: offputting.)

anyway, it's issues like this one that remind me why i kind of hesitate over some of the retcons in the recent spurrier runs, like the one with him now having opened dream's pouch of sand and stolen some before they even met. because like, it's easy enough to look at john constantine now — with 70 years of worst possible choices and unresolved trauma crystallizing underneath his skin to cover up all the soft, hopeful bits where he's used to getting hit — and assign him arbiter of ill intentions, magus of wasted potential, saint of shit choices, but man . . . he was new to this, once. he was still new to this 80 issues in.

80 issues in, and he's not used to losing friends yet; he even has time enough between catastrophes to grieve each individual one. still has enough left to live for at this stage to necessitate running and hiding, instead of bodily throwing himself at the problem like he learns to later, or sitting apathetically by to do nothing except smoke and watch the world fall apart when he finally gives up. fuck, he still apologizes.

and you're telling me this guy, this soppy wet cat motherfucker hiding from the devil in a church basement, so guilty over not knowing what happened to the guy that he paid people (paid chas, so chas could pay people) to attack that the bottle he's holding in this scene isn't even his second or third........this guy's past, more innocent self lied right to the face of DREAM OF THE ENDLESS and got away with it?

hm. i just don't know about all that.

[tacagen]

look there is something So special in the way thawne smiles in his non-flash-centered arcs

[franeridan]

luffy's kind but he's not nice, which is a distinction i just realized should maybe be made for people who go into the manga/anime from opla (in which luffy is both kind and nice). i mean. sorry? og luffy is kind of a stinky gremlin, truly

[skeletalheartattack]

theres another member of zarbons species in the moro arc of dragon ball super! he transforms into a differentmonster form than zarbon

Yuzun! i know him! or well, i kinda know him. i'm not really caught up or invested in anything Dragon Ball related beyond Buu Saga, but i've learned somewhat about him.

i think he's pretty neat! and i'm really happy they expanded Zarbons race just a little bit with Yuzun. though you hate to hear how he went out... there's no peace for my mans race. i hate this solar system. fuuuck.

[slightlymoldycadaver]

Been rewatching Code Geass with my partner after having not watched it since I was in the fifth grade.

It's been wild seeing the show through the eyes of an adult and trying to explain it to him (who's not into anime AT ALL)

His questions so far;

1. Aren't these high schoolers? Why do we see them naked so much? (Anime)

2. Why does the soundtrack sound like it's from a detective noir? (No clue, but I kinda love it)

3. So, do those two guys get together at the end? (HAHAHA 😭)

4. What do you mean there used to be pizza hut advertising all over it? (They were removed in the Hulu version, but I swear it was there)

And my personal favorite,

5. Who's the good guy in this show? (No one. They're all bastards)

[dreamcrow]

doing laundry but hating it: the touchstone of all human experience, 8000-0 ybp