#the thing not even a single cell organism would want to go to

[comfortableskin]

Has someone already complained about the new store menu because I for sure have some things to say

[flamingpudding]

I am keeping him B

A/N: Stress late night writing, while I am supposed to sleep cause I still got work tomorrow but screw my life...

It all started with the disappearance of Box Ghost, followed by Spectra. Back then, Danny didn't realize what was happening, and he still blamed himself for that. What a fine bridge of balance he was....

The next to disappear had been Elli and Danny had mobilize whatever he could to organize a search party when he lost contact. After Elli, Ember was next. Maybe by then Danny should be realized.

Dan was the next in line of disappearances. Vlad was the one making Danny aware of it. Everything Danny had mobilized in his search for Elli was extended to find Dan now, too.

Shortly after Dan, Vlad also disappeared from the face of earth. If he hadn't already be worried Danny would have been now. His events tripled, sleepless nights followed, days in which Jazz practically had to force him to sleep.

One by one all the Ghosts Danny knew disappeared. Maybe he would have realized it sooner if he had paid more attention to certain things, to the news to politics, to anything really. Maybe then Danny would be noticed the appearance of Dalv.Co and his parents invention on the black market. The sudden spike in Meta traficing following or the sudden interest in Ecto-entities.

But he hadn't...

...and that probably what was what costed him too.

Because, one day, he woke up in a dark cell, still in his Phantom transformation but with a collar around his neck. It zapped him any time he touched it or tried to let go of his ghost form. It was like a reverse of the stupid taser Vlad had. There were no mirrors or anything he could use to see himself with, but he had a feeling that collar used Fenton tech. He also realized that he was in a more eldrich kind of transformation. His hands that usually were in white gloves when in phantom form were clawed and inky black with sparks that reminded Danny of the night sky's above Amity Park. He couldn't tell if he looked anything like himself or not, but judging by his hands, probably not.

That day, when Danny woke up in that cell, he realized the reason behind the disappearances of his family and ghost rogues. Just like there was a spike in Meta trafficking, the growing interest had also developed into Ecto-Entity trafficking and worse was, they weren't even protected by law. The Anti-Ecto Acts are making it not even a real or all too big of a crime.

Months passed, and Danny learned to shut his mouth and emotions out. He thought he was even in a state disassociation, Jazz would have been proud of him for his self diagnosis, maybe. With the passing days, Danny stopped remembering who owned him and who he was forced to fight. Sometimes, his eyes came to live when he met one of his old friends in the battle rings. Tho their fights were no longer a form or bonding, it still felt nice to sometimes feel the heat of Ember's flames, the sting of Skulkers blasters or even see a box get thrown at him.

Of course, he had tried to escape or save at least one of the others before, but whoever modified his parents' inventions knew what they were doing. All his attempts were met with failure.

But then the day everything changed came. Danny didn't know how long it had been, all he knew was that a stupid clown was his current holder. The guy spouted some nonsense or wanting to see how a bat, of all animals held himself against one of the strongest ecto-entiies. Danny really wanted to refuse, yell at that fruitloop of a clown and be done with the World.

But what he didn't expect to happen that day was the shock of electricity, the ricochet of a bullet, the crack of metal... and the collar falling of his neck.

Suddenly, Danny no longer felt like he was trapped in his own body, like he was just an onlooker, but at the same time, he had never felt this tired before. He stumbled forward his body losing whatever momentum he had before. It was a single arm that saved him from faceplanting.

"Fuck! That thing was actually a kid!"

"What?!"

"I am going to fucking murder the clown."

Danny blinked slowly as he felt his awareness sliding from him, yet he still couldn't help muttering at least something before the world would go dark. "Get in line, I really hate clowns, and he is the nightmare realm fodder."

Danny felt the arm holding him shaking, and he really wanted to close his eyes and sleep, but right before he did, in fact, black out from pure exhaustion, he heard one last thing. "I don't give a fuck, B. I like this kid so I am keeping him."

[ninihousebears3000]

HR Department! reader X Alucard

A goodnight kiss.

Pulling an all-nighter causes you to hear strange things.

CW: No warnings!

It's quite late.

You had to agree with the voice in your head. Pulling overtime was necessary considering how your workload suddenly increased. Now you're bookkeeper another responsibility on your plate. Computerizing this ancient system that the organization was barely running on was your mission. But efficiency is your reputation and you wouldn't be able to sleep knowing that things were left in limbo.

Rest, work will be here tomorrow but you won't be here much longer if you keep going on like this.

Morbid but true. Maybe some coffee will give you clarity? After all your computer screen began looking less and less clear. You were certain it was working just fine a moment ago. Standing up you grab your favorite mug off your desk heading to your in-office coffee machine. Walter had refused to use k-cups opting to brew a fresh pot for you every day. But he would cut you off after two cups so for your third and fourth cups you used your K-cups from home.

You placed your mug on the machine instinctively reaching for the box of k-cups. Only to be met with empty space. "What the hell?" You had a full box where did it go? Checking in the cabinets, your bag, and drawers, not a single K-cup could be found. Even your coat pocket didn't have an emergency K-cup. "Perhaps there's some upstairs?" Thinking aloud was your tendency nowadays since this was your own private office. Although, a few more employees and an assistant would be very helpful. Being the head of the human resources department doesn't mean much if you're the only employee.

You thought to yourself as you left your office walking through the basement.

"An office near civilization would be nice."

You retorted walking past the many cells in the dungeon. You know Seras' room is near here. "I wonder what she's up to?" You appreciate her company she seems chipper than most considering her situation. At times you can tell she just wants another person to talk to. It does pain you that she pops in at the busiest of times. It's only been a few weeks since the Police Girl ‘joined’. You did try advocating for her to have a change of uniform and to be at least called by her real name. Those were still ongoing battles.

Then there was Alucard. You're still trying to get a one-on-one meeting about his workplace misconduct. It's difficult to arrange anything with him he has no email! An audible groaning sigh escaped you.

Your thoughts kept you entertained as you finally made it to the kitchen. Normally, there would be servants and other staff members but the only remaining people here were the residents and the perimeter guards. Of course, the ones in the surveillance room which felt weird to think about them watching you right now.

Of course, there was no leftover coffee left so you were having to pull off your lazy slacks and brew some yourself.

Coffee at this hour? Your sleep will surely be ruined. The sun rises in only a few hours. How about lemon ginger tea?

You took your mug and started rinsing out the old coffee stains. Possibly something else for a change?

When you were filling up your mug with cold water to get the last of the stains out. You jolted the mug towards your face splashing your face with cold water. The sensation still shocked you but woke you up for certain.

"My voice is deep but why is my thought voice that deep?" Was delirium setting in? Or was someone truly talking to you? You can see why Sir Penwood said this place can be maddening. Instead of coffee or tea, you opted for ice-cold orange juice and a leftover banana nut muffin. The sugar should help until you find a stopping point. Plus the leftover wetness on your shirt can help keep you awake. Seems like you would be spending the night Walter gave you a ride since your car was practically living in the shop at this point.

Almost three in the morning the voice in your head was right about it being very late. By the time you returned, you finished the muffin and chugged the juice as soon as you sat down. Just one more paragraph to type and you can call it a night.

You've had worse nights from your undergrad years!

Cracking your knuckles your nimble fingers went back to work.

Sugar can't stop sleep deprivation.

There it was again! You can ignore it! Fight on you're the head of the human resources department!

What's the harm?

Just close your eyes for a few minutes.

You never noticed how soothing the baritone voice was until now. An eye break couldn't hurt, right?

That's right little human. Just close those pretty eyes.

The computer screen was looking warped in ways you've never seen a screen do before. Your lids were heavier and you were leaning on your arms at this point.

"But I am not finished yet." Trying to fight this heavy exhaustion was increasingly difficult. Before you knew it your head was using your arms as a pillow and the desk was a bed.

Everything will be fine little human.

"I am six feet." Your eyes closed for the final time. The heat from the cardigan now placed on your shoulders reminded you of the blanket on your soft bed.

Shh, sleep little human.

Wait, your cardigan was on the back of your chair!

Now be a good little human and stay asleep.

Hot breath grazed your exposed neck along with a hissing noise. You reached for the pistol underneath your desk and fired a shot at the source of this strange body heat. To your surprise you found Hellsing's trump card sitting on the ground in the corner of your office. Thankfully, Walter gave you a pistol strangely you asked for a silencer.

"ALUCARD! DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY WORKPLACE MISCONDUCT VIOLATIONS YOU STACKED UP!" Panting and filled with rage you kept your gun aimed at him.

"You know those blessed bullets do hurt." He was bleeding out of his left shoulder. Despite that, his face held an awful grin.

"YOU WERE TRYING TO DRINK MY BLOOD! AND YOU HAVE BEEN IN MY HEAD!" You never thought your first meeting with Alucard was going to be him nearly drinking your blood.

"Shh, you're louder than Police Girl." His nonchalant attitude was getting on your nerves. "Consider it a goodnight kiss little human." Alucard stood to his full height seeing how he still regarded you as little.

"We need to address some misconduct violations." Was this going to be your only chance to talk to him?

"I don't think your department applies to me." He began to walk past you. "Now if you'll excuse me the sun will be rising soon." But your reflexes were being kind to you. Opening your drawer you pulled out a thick binder and flipped to the middle of it pointing at a document.

"You and Seras Victoria fall into this category of employee." He leaned down to read it. His crimson eyes bounced up to yours and then to the book again. "Did you just call me a police dog?" A hint of irritation was in his tone.

"Therefore you must follow the same guidelines as every employee here." You were the head of the human resources department you weren't going to let this misconduct run rampant anymore!

"Please have a seat Alucard." Alucard narrowed his eyes at you and then smirked. "Alright then HR." He smirked while sitting down crossing his legs in the seat in front of your desk. While you grabbed your chair that was pushed across the room after his initial introduction.

You weren’t expecting him to give in judging from what Seras and Walter had told you. But you can’t rest knowing you had the chance.

"Now shall we begin with boundaries."

[alexanderwales]

For Thresholder there are lots and lots of worlds, most of them just name-checked, sketched out in a handful of paragraphs as a place that people had visited before and now has little plot relevance. It's my favorite part of the series.

I'm not writing one of those chapters where I need one of those worlds, and I'm not sure I could give this one its due, but the idea I had last night was a world where people could increase and decrease the size of objects virtually at will. This doesn't work with conventional physics, but that's okay, some of the worlds can be more conceptual.

To start with, we have some ground rules: you have to be touching the thing, it can only operate on loosely defined "whole objects", and there's some kind of thing that happens with objects where they retain their physical structure to some degree, even if the square-cube law means that not everything stays functional. This is easy for things made of base elements (an iron nail becomes bigger and we can grok that it's still just made of regular iron) but it's less easy for complex organics. If you increase the size of an apple, are the individual cells increasing in size? Are new cells being generated? I think for this, I would have to say that the answer is that the world works on a level of pre-Enlightenment human understanding that the real world doesn't have, one where there aren't cells. (I am a bit sketchy on when cells were discovered, and more sketchy on what they thought was going on before that.)

As far as consequences, which is my favorite thing, I think there are a few big ones.

For one, any amount of food is enough to feed an infinite number of people. A single apple can feed a family, if they want to have nothing but apple for a meal. A single apple slice can feed a family. In fact, even the smallest crumb can undergo the process of magnification to become a full meal. But while you can make "more food" by making it bigger, the taste and texture don't necessarily stay the same. It seems to me that there's probably a sweet spot for most foods in terms of size, and eating a grain of rice the size of a loaf of bread is a very different experience than eating a bowl of rice. And if you've ever eaten one of those sourdough breads with way too large of bubbles, that's what pretty much all bread would look like if magnified, just holes with strands of gluten between them. So I think in terms of food, there would be a lot of class divide, along with a lot of processing of magnified foods to make them more palatable. Maybe a loaf-size grain of rice wouldn't appeal to many people, but you can break off bits of it and probably still make mochi with it.

Another big issue is manufacturing and the trades. In my mind, you have construction workers building the equivalent of dollhouses that then get sized up on a plot of land, but I think dollhouses are a little bit small, and most trades would work on a scale that was easiest for human manipulation. I don't think that's what we do for dolls, which tends to be nimble, finnicky work, and if you can freely scale up and scale down your tools and materials, I think you'd naturally want to work a bit bigger. Probably you would rescale on many different steps of whatever you're producing, and if this world was in the industrial age, then you would have people in factories rescaling as a human step in a factory somewhere. Another cool thing is that a chef could have a single pot and pan that they resize for their needs, and a single knife that fulfills roles we would use two or three different knifes for, though I think maybe handles would be a problem there.

Anyway, I'm not going to use this anywhere, though I do think it's cool, if maybe in a way that's not all that unique (What if Big Thing were Little Thing and What if Little Thing were Big Thing are both speculative fiction staples, see Indian in the Cupboard, The Borrowers, Ant-man, etc.). I have a bunch of outstanding questions re: conservation of momentum and some hacks that only work under certain implementations, but sometimes that's a bridge too far.

[dreaming-medium]

Animals Without Direction

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Four Hundred and Thirteen

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Masterlist

Four hundred and thirteen.

That’s the amount of stones you were able to count on the floor of the cell you’re being held in. 

Four hundred and thirteen.

Some of them are split in half with a large crack running down the middle. In fact, some are in more pieces than that. The bigger cracks would spiderweb into smaller ones. There’s one stone right under the window that's completely shattered. Should you count it as more than one, then?

No.

No, it’s still just one.

It started as one stone. You can tell by the mortar around the outer perimeter of the stone that it started as one. If it started as one, then it will always be one , right?

Right.

Just like you.

You came into this cell as one person. One person with two arms with two hands, two legs with two feet, five fingers on each hand and five toes on each foot. Who knows what you’re going to have once you leave. 

If you ever leave.

Well, you’ll “leave” eventually. But, who knows if you’ll be alive. 

You may just be a lump of limbs and organs at that point. 

There’s already so much of your blood on those four hundred and thirteen stones. How much more can you take? There’s only so much that a body can handle before it just… gives up. But you, stubborn you, are hanging in there much longer than anyone could have expected.

You and the mage chained to the wall opposite of you. He may be the only bastard in Olera that is just as stubborn to die as you.

Erbus knows torture the way the birds know how to fly. It’s instinctual to them. They know everything about how to make it hurt, sure. But, physical pain you can take. It’s the mental torture that’s fucking killer. 

The window in the wall was completely boarded up within the first day after the battle, depriving you of any and all sunlight. Because of this, you have absolutely no clue how long you’ve been chained here. It could be days or even weeks since the battle. You have no idea.  

The only sense of time passing you have is how emaciated your body looks. You’re able to see each of your knuckles perfectly in your fingers, it’s getting so hard to bend them at all. Soon enough you’re not going to be able to lift your arm to even look at your hand.

The metal cuffs around your wrists feel like they get heavier every single hour.

All of those muscles that you worked so hard for have started to grow thin; the muscles that Changbin helped you grow.

How long does that take? A few days of starvation is when the body begins to eat the muscles. 

It’s not even like you can depend on your body’s natural rhythm either; the guards make sure to wake you up every hour, slamming their weapons into the metal bars that cage the two of you in the room.

And if you pass out from exhaustion, smelling salts are put directly under your nose to spike your adrenal system and wake you right back up.

Your body used to tremble from the utter exhaustion you felt, but you’re past that point now.

They haven’t even started the real physical torture yet, that you’re absolutely sure of. There’s no way that a few punches to the jaw, depriving you of adequate food and water, and keeping your arms chained to the wall are the only plans that these monsters have in store for you.

Gods, you can only imagine how gaunt your face looks. 

Especially if it's anything like Hyunjin’s. His eyes are sunken into his skull, those beautiful cheekbones seem to be the only thing keeping his skin on his face. Dark circles surround his eyes and even darker patches rest on his cheeks.

Both of you have lost the energy to speak to one another.

It’s not that you don’t want to talk to him, it’s quite the opposite, you desperately want to speak to him, but your body just physically cannot come up with the energy to even open your mouth.

When he first opened his eyes after the battle, the two of you were already locked up in your current positions. He was a mess of questions and apologies.

As time went on, the conversations would range about anything and everything. From childhood memories to battle tips. Soon enough, the dialogue between the two of you got shorter and shorter and eventually faded into nothing. 

Some words were thrown around every so often.

But eventually, it all faded to silence. 

The only noise that fills the cell is your rumbling stomachs that are beginning to eat themselves. That and the pained whines and whimpers the two of you let out every once in a while. 

Every so often, a chunk of molded bread is thrown into the cell. Two cups of murky, brown water are placed in front of you just when you think you might die. Sometimes they’re slid along the stone. You’re lucky if they don’t tip over and spill.

The Mercy Division is doing the bare minimum to keep you alive. Not a day goes by that the irony of their title doesn’t slip through you.

And you just know the worst is yet to come. They’re breaking you mentally, day by day, and then they’re going to strike you even harder. 

Deep down, you don’t know if you’re mentally prepared for that.

When a door slams open, your eyes instinctually snap open. When you look over at Hyunjin, you see him do the same. His eyes are unfocused and out of it, but they’re open. 

Heavy boots come marching down the hallway, metal clinking against armor. 

The sound used to send your heart into your throat, but anymore you’re just numb to it.

WIth shallow, slow breaths, you keep your gaze down on the floor, counting and recounting those four hundred and thirteen stones over and over again.

The boots stop and a loud clang of metal smashing together rockets through the air, jolting your heart. It’s a miracle it hasn’t completely stopped yet. 

“Wake up, rats,” the guard barks into the cell. Both you and Hyunjin don’t seem to move fast enough for his liking since he slams his shield into the metal bars of the cell once more, further shocking your heart back into an uneasy rhythm.

Lifting your head, you look up through the bars and stare directly into the eyes of the Mercy Division soldier on the other side.

There’s a usual rotation of about three of them; each of them are nasty in their own ways. But this one is particularly cruel. The last time he brought you a cup of water, he ‘accidentally’ spilled half of it onto the floor just out of your reach.

You couldn’t even crawl onto the cobblestone and attempt to lick it up, it was just too far away. The entire time, he only laughed in your face, slinging nasty words in your direction. 

This time he stands on the other side of your cage with a sick grin on his evil face. The corners of his lips seem to twist upwards in an unnatural way that makes your empty stomach do backflips. 

“Today is the day, rats,” he says to the two of you. Why does he seem so excited? “The boss is coming here today to talk to the two of you. And guess what, I heard something about a friend comin’ with him.”

Neither of you respond, not that you even want to. What’s there to say to a demon? There’s nothing you could say that wouldn’t result in a swift punch to the jaw.

Slowly, you blink your eyes and let them droop back down to the floor. It takes way too much out of you to keep them on his face.

“Aw, why the long faces, rats? Scared? Hungry? Ah, I bet you are exhausted , aye?” A chuckle bubbles from his chest. “Perfect.”

With one last, loud clang of his shield against the jail bars, he walks away from the cell.

You guess this means no food or water for now.

A long bout of silence sits between you and Hyunjin. 

A sharp pain twists at your stomach and you’re not sure if it’s from hunger, sickness, exhaustion, or anxiety. Or it could be a combination of all of them– it probably is.

“Y/N.” Your name comes out of Hyunjin’s mouth as a dry croak that nearly shatters your heart. He sounds so utterly broken.

With great effort, you lift your chin to look over at him.

Both of you are in soiled, tattered clothes. Potato sacks are a higher quality fabric than this. If it wasn’t for the fires lit in the sconces on the walls, you probably would have lost your limbs to hypothermia by now.

Genuinely, you don’t even feel the cold anymore, though. It’s the dead of winter and yet, you barely even notice the air around you. Is it cold? Is it sweltering? You don’t know anymore.

Hyunjin’s hair is everywhere. It’s greasy and unkempt. The strands are practically matted to his head. You’ve never seen him look anywhere near as disheveled as he is now. 

He looks like he’s five steps from the Void.

There’s no shine to his eyes anymore. They’re dull and lifeless. Yours probably are too.

When you make eye contact, he swallows thickly. His Adam’s Apple bobs with his attempt to create any saliva in his mouth.

“Do you–” He has to stop to cough. “What do you think this means?”

Your body shifts against the wall, the chains connecting your wrists to the stone clink with each movement. Gods, they’re so heavy. 

You know exactly what this means, you just don’t have the heart to tell him. Deep down, you know he knows too. 

“It means we prepare for the worst,” you answer thickly, your throat feels like sandpaper. When the words come out of your mouth it makes your head throb.

“As I feared,” he responds.

His tone is quiet and weak, just completely hollow.

By the Six, how long have you been here? 

Exhaustion burns at the back of your eyes and you don’t even have the strength to fight against it anymore. Your eyes droop shut, your head falls back against the wall.

Maybe you can get a few minutes of rest. Just a few. May the Six have mercy, please just allow a few minutes of rest.

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

The door down the hall creaks open and your eyes immediately snap awake as a reflex. The sensation sends an ache right through your skull. 

How long were you asleep? Was it five minutes? Fifteen? Fifty? It doesn’t matter, your body is still screaming regardless. 

Just like usual, you see Hyunjin’s head snap up too. Both of you are conditioned like dogs to get up when that damned door opens. 

“And now I bring you to our two favorite lab rats.” Gods, you hate his fucking voice. His slimy, evil, malicious voice. 

Three sets of boots stop in front of your cell. You can’t even lift your head to look up, you only have enough energy to keep your eyes open and staring down at the stone floor. 

“We’ve been keepin’ ‘em nice and broken since the battle. Some of the boys are takin’ bets on how long until they croak.” You don’t even have the energy to roll your eyes. “Serves ‘em right. Dirty Elves.”

There’s a long moment of silence.

Why isn’t anyone speaking?

“Huh.”

A shockwave goes down your spine. A simple huff of air sends your feeble mind reeling. No…

“I never would have guessed that my little mouse was a rat the whole time.”

No, there’s no way. No. You… you thought he was dead. He’s supposed to be dead! It’s a hallucination. It has to be. 

There’s no way he can really be here. You have to be imagining it in some near death delusion. 

Even with your muscles screaming in exhaustion and borderline atrophying, you manage to lift your chin up to look directly into the very pair of eyes that you used to find never ending comfort in. The eyes that you used to think of as a protective guardian– a brother, a father, and a mentor all wrapped up in one handsome package.  

The age lines on his face don’t change his beautiful appearance one bit. His dark hair is graying a little around the roots, but he has it pulled back in the same bun that you remember. The scruff on his face has some lighter patches around the chin. 

“Allerick…” you croak out weakly. He only stares back at you with a nasty smirk on his face. 

The man who taught you everything you know about fighting– every block, every pary, every combination attack you know– is glaring at you from the other side of prison cell bars; he’s looking at you like you’re worth no more than the dirt on the bottom of his shoe. 

What was he…? No… He works for the Mercy Division? He’s in the Mercy Division? He’s the boss? He’s in charge? 

Your mind is reeling. None of the gears seem to be catching on one another to turn. 

Despite the dehydration, you feel tears start welling up in your eyes as you stare at his smug smile. 

All these years since he disappeared from the Fighter’s Guild… he’s been working for the very people that kill your kind for sport? The man who became your make-shift guardian is now one of the men who killed your real father.

“I always wondered if our paths were going to cross again. I never thought it would be like this,” he adds with a condescending tone. One of his hands comes up and he knocks on one of the metal bars with his knuckle. He clears his throat after he speaks. 

You can’t even focus your eyes enough to read into his expression too much, the cocky smirk is the only thing you’re able to make out. 

When your vision blurs, you drop your eyes back down to the floor. Your head drops to hang from your shoulders.

Allerick huffs once more. “Brebor, when you said they were broken, I was not expecting it to be this bad.”

So that’s the demon’s name, Brebor. 

“We did not want them usin’ their magic on us to escape!” Brebor defends himself with a whiny voice.

“They are an inch from death, fool. How are we supposed to interrogate them if they cannot even look us in the eye for more than ten seconds?”

He has a point. 

“Give them water. Let them sleep. That’s it,” Allerick commands. 

Thank the Six. You know it’s not mercy, but it certainly feels like it. You’re not sure what you’re more excited about, sleeping or drinking water.

“What say you, Skye?”

What?

You try so hard to lift your head, but you just can’t. You can’t pick your head up no matter how hard you try. But you need to know, you have to know if he’s really here.

“I agree. And make sure it is clean water. We do not need them getting sick and dying from infection before we get anything out of them.”

Oh, god it is.

Kim Seungmin. Kim Seungmin is here. He’s here and standing in front of you. Your Seungmin. Your rogue. The other side of your coin. 

You muster all the strength you possibly can and lift your head one last time.

There he is. In all his lanky, broad shouldered glory.

He’s standing right there on the other side of the cell bars.

Don’t react, Y/N, do not react. Obviously, he’s here as a spy. He’s here blending in. Act normal, just don’t move, Y/N.

It takes everything inside you not to cry out in desperation and relief. You’re sure that Hyunjin must be feeling the same way. 

Seungmin makes direct eye contact with you. You can read him entirely too well; he’s trying so hard not to show his emotions. His jaw clenches and his eyebrows twitch as he desperately attempts to keep them still.

At his sides, his fingers twitch, just itching to get you out of this prison.

His throat moves as he swallows thickly. You can see right through him, he’s trying so hard to cover up the pain he’s feeling inside. 

But he can’t react right now. He can’t risk that.

“Fine,” Brebor states begrudgingly. “Water and sleep. I’ll have Vin bring water and bread down in a little bit.”

“Nay,” Seungmin says firmly, keeping his eyes on you. “Now. That one is seconds from dying.” He juts his chin in your direction.

By the Six, do you really look that terrible?

Brebor scoffs. “That one? Nay, she’s been nothin’ but trouble since the battle. She was the last one standin’ in the fort. She probably took out an entire battalion by herself before we finally got ‘er. Maybe even two.” Seungmin swallows again. You can see in his eyes that it’s taking every ounce of self control not to lash out and kill the man. 

Brebor continues. “She can survive for a little while before we show ‘er a bit of mercy.” He slams his boot into the cell bars. The noise sends a jolt through your system. 

As soon as your muscles move, a bolt of pain goes through your system and you let out a pitiful whine. Your eyes shut on their own and it takes everything within your body not to choke up with dry tears. The headache behind your eyes makes your brain feel like it’s melting.

“I got three hundred gold on her kickin’ the bucket within the next week.” He lifts his foot to kick the bars again. All of your muscles tense.

“ Enough .” Seungmin’s voice is stern. It sends a different type of shiver down your spine. Brebor’s boot stops mid-air before he can kick the bars once more. “Get her– both of them – food and water. Now.”

“You heard him,” Allerick adds.

The edges of your vision are already starting to fade inwards.The sudden spike in your heart rate had caused your adrenaline to skyrocket and then drop off a cliff. 

So badly, you want to cry. You want to sob and let your emotions pour out of your body and let them drip down your face.

But you can’t.

It would take too much energy– energy that you don’t have left. 

You don’t even know which emotion to focus on to release anyway. It’s like you’ve gotten two stabs right into your chest. Allerick and Seungmin. The two of them are standing side by side right in front of your eyes and it feels like you can’t even breathe.

There’s a shuffle of chains on the other side of your cell.

“You stay still, rat!” Brebor barks at Hyunjin. The chains immediately stop and a loud whine follows it. 

“Did we not just say to let them rest?” Allerick snaps at Brebor who just grumbles in response.

“The two of you are showin’ too much mercy to these scum, I tell ya. They killed so many of our men. Between the two of them they do not deserve any more compassion than you would give a spider on the wall.”

“ We will decide what is too much mercy, not you, soldier,” Seungmin hisses in response. Armor clinks softly as the two of them seem to move around a bit. “Show me to the food and water, I will bring it to them myself if I have to.”

“Right this way,” Brebor grumbles. 

More and more your eyelids droop, your breathing is so shallow, you’re not sure if your chest is even rising and falling visibly anymore. Are your eyes open or is your vision blacked out?

Boots shuffle outside of the cell. Seungmin seems to hiss more orders at Brebor as they walk away.

The quieter his voice gets, the more your sadness settles in further and further. 

One particular set of boots remains right on the other side of the metal bars. You don’t even need to try and lift your head to know who it is. 

“Rest up, little mouse. You are going to need it.”

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

“Y/N.” Your name is hissed quietly into the cell. “Hyunjin. Y/N, wake up, please.”

Achingly, you attempt wrestle your own eyelids to open. How much longer can you continue to do this?

But you know this voice. This voice is gentle and sweet. It’s talking to you with a kindness you haven’t heard in so long, not even in your own mind.

“Please, you two,” it calls again. The cell doors open very slowly, you barely even hear it. The chains on the other wall clink around for a bit. 

There’s some murmuring off to the side for a few moments before boots scrape and thud along the floor in your direction.

Before you can open your eyes fully, you feel a presence right in front of you.

That sends a large wave of fear through your body. Your entire heart kickstarts and you gasp, your body shrinking away from them with a quiet whine. 

“Nay, nay, Y/N, nay, it is okay, I am here, I am right here,” the voice continues to whisper.

Two large warm hands place themselves on your shoulders and you have to fight the scream that bubbles in your throat. 

Still, your body naturally backpedals backwards into the wall even more, your back pressed firmly against the stone.

“Please, Y/N, it’s Seungmin, please, mercenary, open your eyes.”

Your mind is so foggy. But his voice breaks through the fog and what feels like a safety blanket is placed over your fears.

“Seung…” you croak, your eyes wincing a few times as you try to open them.

“Yes, yes, it is me,” he reassures you quietly. “Stay quiet, sweet thing, please, you must stay quiet.” 

He sounds just as broken as you. 

Eventually, your eyes flutter open and you look up at him. When your eyes come into focus, he’s watching you closely.

He looks exactly the same as when you left for Fort Mire, except maybe his hair has gotten a little longer. A haircut might suit him.

“Seung,” you repeat, looking right up at him. “You are here…”

He shushes you again, his hand moving from your shoulder to the side of your head, brushing the matted strands out of your face. The rogue’s eyes flit all over your features, taking in every since bit of damage. 

“Oh, you poor thing,” he says thickly. His eyes are getting glassier by the second. “I am so sorry, Y/N, I am so, so sorry.”

He reaches one hand down and grabs a mug, bringing it up to your lips quickly. “Drink, it’s water, drink, mercenary.”

As he tilts the mug back, you greedily gulp down every drop of water that flows out of the mug. Some of it rushes down the sides of your mouth and down your chin. 

Once the mug is empty, Seungmin brings it down from your face and places it on the floor. With gentle, warm hands, he reaches up and wipes the water off your face with the sleeve of his tunic. All the while, those deep brown eyes are scanning over every feature on your face. 

The muscles in your arm twitch as you try to lift your hand to touch him, but your limbs just feel too heavy at the moment.

Seungmin’s eyes drop down to watch your arm attempt to come up but the weight of the chains brings it back down. You can see his entire face contort like he’s sharing your pain. His other hand comes down to grab yours and bring your hand up to cup his cheek.

He feels so warm. His skin is so soft compared to yours now. 

Weakly, your thumb brushes back and forth across his cheek, just taking in the sensation.

A cough rips from your chest and you can’t fight it. Seungmin winces with you and strokes the side of your hair through it.

“The entire court is beside themselves over this,” he whispers to you. “Not a day goes by where I do not hear Jisung and Felix sobbing quietly to themselves in their rooms. And do not even get me started on Chan and Minho.”

Seungmin shakes his head. “Chan was about to storm Fort Mire himself to bring the two of you home. Minho had to physically stop him from doing something reckless. About an hour of plotting led me to the situation we are in currently.”

“How long?” you ask softly.

“It has been about five weeks since your attack on Fort Mire.”

Your body visibly deflates. Five weeks?! It’s been five weeks of this?!

“I am so sorry, mercenary. It took too long to pull strings to get here,” he explains. “I had been floating around within Erbus’ inner court for months but had no direct ties to get here, it took a lot of convincing.”

 “Allerick…” you murmur. 

Again, Seungmin’s face twists. “He told me he knew you once we left yesterday, he only told me a small bit of your history, but it was enough.” He takes a breath. “Allerick became the commander of the Mercy Division about ten years ago.”

A long, uneven breath is stolen from your lungs and your eyes shut while you desperately try to reign in your emotions.

He doesn’t just work for these devils, he leads them. He tells them what to do. Allerick of the Fighter’s Guild commands his men to skin Elves and have their sick fun with their bodies. 

Your mouth quivers and your eyebrows twitch. Seungmin’s hand on your head comes up to cup your cheek completely. 

“I do not have a lot of time, Y/N. I am not even supposed to be down here,” he says with a new tone of urgency. Your eyes reopen and you stare up at him.

Pain is written clearly across his face.

“I am here under the guise of being an expert in torture and the extraction of information.”

You blink at him a few times. Is he saying what you think he’s saying?

“These next few days are not going to be easy, Y/N. But– But you need to trust me.”

Your head feels like it's submerged under water. The shallow rise and fall of your chest as you breathe begins to pick up as panic takes a hold of your soul.

“I need you to come up with false information that you can ‘admit to’ while I am performing these methods. Please, Y/N. I do not believe my heart can withstand torturing you.” He searches your face desperately.

The hand that’s holding yours to his cheek tightens.

“Seung–”

“Listen to me, Y/N,” he interrupts you gently, yet firmly. “I am going to have to do things to you that will plague my nightmares for the next ten years but it is the only way I can be here and feed information back to Chan at the same time.”

Your entire body trembles, your heart is screaming.

He’s… he’s going to torture you? 

Kim Seungmin is the one that will be torturing information out of you? Your rogue? Your other half?

“You have to trust me, Y/N.” His hand holding your face shakes you slightly. Desperation claws its way up his throat more and more by the second. “You have to hang on only for the next few days, I swear to you.”

Clenching your jaw, your eyes burn with tears that want to form. You do trust him. You trust him with your entire life. But that does nothing to quell the fear within you.

You can take a faceless nobody, a devil, an executioner with a hood over his head. But to be told that the one issuing the worst forms of pain you’ll ever experience is one of the men whom your heart belongs to… it’s almost like it’s just another form of torture. 

“Both you and Hyunjin–”

“Not him.” A dry croak comes out of your mouth. “Not him. Just me.”

Seungmin shakes his head. “Y/N, your body is frailer than his right now.”

“I can take it, Y/N,” Hyunjin calls from the other side of the cell. “Do not martyr yourself once more.”

“No.” Your voice is firmer than you thought possible. “I will take it.”

“Listen to me, Y/N.” The Rogue shakes your head again. “You are not thinking clearly right now. You cannot take all of it. I have to–” he breaks off and his voice cracks.

It takes Seungmin a few solid moments to regain himself. 

“I have to do things to you that I would never do to anyone in my wildest imagination, do you understand? You need to come up with agreed upon false information to give to me so I can quit my torture.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “LIke what?”

“I will be asking you for war plans, fort locations, secrets about Chan, anything. You need to think of what to tell me. It will cease my actions.”

“But I do not know any battle plans anymore.”

“Think of something. You need to be able to tell me something.” 

“Seungmin–”

There’s a few thuds from outside the door down the hall and Seungmin’s head snaps over in that direction.

“I have to go,” he says suddenly and then looks back down at you with unfiltered desperation on his face. “Think of something, Y/N, anything. I beseech you, please.”

Seungmin takes a long few moments to stare at your face. His warm eyes look deeply into yours with anguish behind them. 

If he says to trust him, then you trust him. You trust him and the entirety of Miroh’s court. To the end of the line, you trust him. 

“I will try,” you whisper in response.

A tiny breath of relief comes from his chest and he nods quickly. He takes one last look at your face before standing up slowly, making sure to grab the empty water mug from before and taking it with him.

Just as quickly as he entered, Seungmin leaves the cell, locking the cell doors behind him. 

A few soldiers come down the hallway, all of them looking inside the cell and then over at Seungmin.

“Getting to know your subjects?” One of the soldiers teases.

“Sure,” Seungmin replies. “Something like that.”

[catboybiologist]

Hey I feel like I remember someone using crispr (or other gene editing method) to successfully edit her own genome and since I saw the article on tumblr and I think I remember her doing it for trans reasons it feels like something you'd know about. Google isn't helping, do you know who im talking about?

Yup I remember that.

Tl;Dr: I don't buy this instance of it, but there's some nuggets of theory that she built upon that are reasonable.

I'm gonna try to keep this brief and simple.

Here was the basic theory, extremely oversimplified: normal cell development follows a kind of "tree". A stem cell can become a couple different kinds of other stem cells that are more specific, and onwards, until they become "fully differentiated" cell types. These are the cells we know and love: nerve, skin, muscle, etc.

Stem cell research is so valuable because of this- "replacement" tissue can be generated for any other kind of cell with stem cells.

But in extremely rare cases, a process called transdifferentiation can occur. Essentially, a fully differentiated cell type becomes a different cell type without reverting to a stem cell state at all. Imagine a bit of heart tissue becoming an intestine.

It's an extremely poorly understood process. Like, EXTREMELY poorly understood, and the basic dynamics of how it works are a subject of active research. However, it's generally understood that in some organisms, under some extreme external circumstances, in certain cell types, it can be induced by adding in or blocking the right signal.

Based on one study that did a trial on natal male mice, there is a gene that, when knocked down, MIGHT cause transdifferentiation of testes cells into ovarian tissue, which would then secrete estrogens.

CRISPR is used to target a small segment of DNA and cleanly "cut" it out of the genome.

Now. What did this woman actually do?

Well, we don't have much to go on. It was a single thread, less than a paragraph in total, from a "bio hackers" forum. The only data provided was a text document of estrogen levels, one time point before and one time point after, and a diagram of the insert vector that would target the gene mentioned before. What she's claiming she did is inject this vector into her testes, and that the resulting estrogen level afterwards is from her being off HRT, and therefore is a result of ovarian tissue producing it.

But there's SO many confounding factors here, and SO little to go on. Self-professed "bio hackers" are kinda notorious for not having great ideas of what they're doing- not in a dangerous way, more in a "wasting time and money on things that don't work" way. And even for them, there's almost nothing to go on here.

Am I saying the entire thing is fake? Not necessarily, I don't like to jump to "people are lying". However, I am saying that there are too many confounding factors that could have easily kept E high for a long time to question Contrary to what popular media would have you believe, CRISPR is extremely fickle, and not well optimized for humans. I'm also saying that, without additional time points or verification of data, those hormones levels could just be taking a longer time to change.

In fact, I literally consider it more likely that transfemme HRT for extended periods of time might be able to cause transdifferentiation in extremely small amounts on its own. It's been possibly documented going the other direction:

I say possibly because there are other potential explanations that haven't been investigated yet, and it's never been studied in transfemmes. Either way, is it enough to endogenously produce hormones at cis female levels? Maybe, after a decade or so. But I want to see a lot more investigation into it.

Generously, I want to say that long term HRT did cause a lasting change- either the pituitary suppression of testosterone was so prolonged that it took a long time to rebound, or there actually is some transdifferentiation happening as a result of previous HRT itself. I don't think there's a world where the CRISPR actually worked.

Now. Is CRISPR to edit the genome to cause transdifferentiation of testes into ovarian tissue, that would be just enough of an ovary to produce estradiol, theoretically possible? Probably yes, actually! But did someone do it with no documentation, minimal funding, and then disappear afterwards? Not really buying it.

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #41: Magnum Opus

Masterlist

content: lab whump, needles (blood draw), immortal whumpee

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

“I’m certain that, with a few more years of research, I could discover why your body doesn’t kill it off. If I figure that out—“ She didn't finish that thought. “But there’s no guarantee. That’s only if everything goes according to plan.”

“I’m sure it will,” he said.

They were in the laboratory again. He was sitting in her office chair, as he always did, and she brought a folding chair up from the kitchen. There were peaches for breakfast. Jackie mentioned that he wanted to eat them a few days ago. He was surprised that she remembered. It snowed again the night before, and the morning was less sunny than usual. Gray clouds painted the sky instead. He wondered if it would storm.

“I should write a paper about this,” she said suddenly. “I will write a paper. These notes are practically incoherent.”

"You can’t publish it, though, can you?”

“I can’t publish it. It would be nice if I could, but I would also have to explain how I met you.”

Yes, that little detail. “What are you going to name it?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I always get someone else to come up with the titles. I suppose we’ll need to name the organism, too. You should name it.”

“I don't have any ideas."

“Neither do I. We can think of one later. I’ll start writing soon. Though, I do want to ask you a few questions first.” Hence, Heather was holding her journal and a pen. “Have you ever experienced issues with your immune system?”

“No.”

“Do you recall anything abnormal about your birth? Anything at all? Even if it seems small, tell me. We’re grasping at straws here.”

“No, it was normal.” 

She wrote these findings down. “And I assume you never experienced any sort of… I don’t know, rare event? Nothing in your life that could have caused this?”

“Not really.”

“Then I presume it’s an innate condition, ever since you were born.” She set the journal and pen down on a table. “But you can’t be the only person with this organism. The species couldn’t possibly become this far developed in a single host. There must be other immortals out there, somewhere, whether they’re aware of it or not.”

"If you're right about the parasite thing, then I guess it’s possible. Maybe we’ll find someone like that."

“I wouldn’t mind having a larger control group. By the way, I did a complete blood count…” Her tone shifted to an air of professional curiosity, and Jackie recognized that she was about to lecture him about some new discovery she found. “On the blood samples from when you were starving. I noticed average levels of red blood cells and hemoglobin, but the platelet levels were slightly higher than normal. Platelets are there to—“

“Wait, I know this one. They clot blood.”

“Exactly.” She nodded. “They create clotting. But I barely saw any white blood cells. Even in healthy samples, oddly enough. There’s more organisms in your bloodstream instead. They take the job of killing infections, like I told you. I also noticed what seemed to be eggs in your veins.”

“Really? Eggs?” Though Jackie had mostly detached himself from all these biological miracles, he still felt some discomfort at this idea.

“It’s what’s keeping you alive, so I suppose it can’t be helped. There was an excessive number of organisms, actually. They reproduce faster when the host is unhealthy. I believe that’s what gave your blood that dark, viscous quality.”

“There’s really no way to get them out?”

“If you find one, let me know.” Out of the blue, she picked her journal up again, clicked her pen open. “Actually, I wanted to ask—have you ever donated blood before?”

“No.”

“Interesting.” She wrote this down. “Your blood is O positive. I tested it earlier. You could hypothetically transfer it to about seventy percent of the population. The organism doesn’t survive in foreign organic matter, so there’s no adverse effects. It would be worthwhile to test it in a living human body, though. My blood is B negative, unfortunately, so I haven’t been able to try it out.”

“And B negative doesn’t mix with the positive types, right? That’s why you can’t test it?”

“Right.”

He remembered that much from his scarce education, if nothing else. Jackie always felt a little lost when she spoke of such concepts. What a complete blood count was, he had no idea. He didn’t want to ask her and interrupt.

“It’s honestly absurd,” she continued. “It’s such an extreme case of specialization. As far as I’ve seen, at least. I still don’t know how it would react to dehydration…”

“I would rather not,” he interrupted. “If that’s possible.”

“No, it’s alright. I understand if you’re not up for it. I…” She closed the journal, gently. “I feel like these tests are too harsh, sometimes. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, but…”

"I'm okay. It's for science."

“That’s good to hear.” Her conflicted expression was gone at once. 

And he was okay. He had been allowed everything he could ever want… well, almost everything, with some heavy restrictions, but he could settle for that. There wasn't any reason to rock the boat. It had been a peaceful few weeks, all things considered.

Heather glanced at her watch. "Would you look at that? You've been here for an hour, and you're still alive. It appears that my experiment is going very well."

Jackie was, in fact, currently hooked up to a blood bag in Heather’s laboratory. A needle inserted into his arm drained his blood through a clear, thin tube. The sight of so much of his own blood would have made him nauseous, once, but this rich scarlet was now a familiar color. It was a more sanitary method of bloodshed, at least, and relatively painless. 

So far, he had filled up about nine bags. Jackie was not a scientist, but he was fairly certain that wasn’t a normal amount of blood to extract. The bags were arranged on the table, weighed down by the gravity of all that heavy red liquid, entire pints of it sagging at the seams. Heather set about removing the tenth one.

“How many liters is that, doc?” He asked.

“About five.” She slid the needle out of his arm, before applying a band-aid over the gap left behind. “Most people would have died by now.”

He watched her unhook the bag from its thin steel stand. “What are you going to do with all that blood?”

“It’s too complicated to explain.” She forced a juice box into his hand. “Drink that. Your blood sugar must be through the floor. Are you feeling lightheaded?”

“A little.”

She forced a package of biscuits into his other hand. “Nauseous?”

“No.” He regarded the biscuits with suspicion. “I’m not hungry.”

“Keep it, at least. Eat when you feel up to it.” She placed the tenth blood bag onto the table. “You know, you don’t have much of an appetite lately.”

“I guess.” Hunger was a point of contention. But he was starting to feel thirsty, oddly enough. He stabbed the plastic straw through the juice box. 

“Yes, ever since…” She paused. But she carried on without a second thought, as if she had never mentioned it at all. “I do wonder where all this blood is coming from.”

Now that his arm wasn’t attached to the needle, he could move it freely. He shook his wrist out for a few seconds. “Hey, where’d you learn all this stuff, anyway? Harvard?”

He said it as a joke, but she replied, “Harvard? Don’t insult me like that. I studied somewhere reputable, thank you.” 

“Somewhere reputable.” He wasn’t sure what that would even entail. Nicer jars for their organ collections, maybe. “What did you get? A PhD?”

“Yes, a doctorate. Did you study anywhere?”

“Nowhere, really. I graduated high school, but I didn’t do anything after that. I just started working.” 

He had never seen his education as a priority. When the police took him in... anyway, they had him in and out of the hospital, then sent him to a couple different homes, and that didn't leave any time for him to care about school. He wanted to study language, if he could, but he didn't think that was possible anymore.

Besides, it was expensive. He could barely scrape together the cash for rent. Getting work as a waiter had been incredibly lucky, in hindsight.

“So you didn't receive further education,” she said. “I assumed as much.”

“You assumed right. I’m not that smart.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. I’ve taught you a few things.” She leaned back in her chair. “Natural talent doesn’t count for anything, you know. There’s a brilliant mind born every day that goes to waste. That’s not enough to get you anywhere. It’s about perseverance and discipline, in the end.”

And a lot of money, he thought tartly. That wasn't Heather's fault, though, and she really was good at what she did. He decided to just let her talk. She could be quite talkative, actually, once she got started.

"I can tell you’re irritated,” Heather said.

“I’m not,” he said. “Continue, please.”

“You don’t have to lie. It's obvious. You should know I appreciate your presence. Even if I don’t express it very well.”

“Yeah, you don’t.”

“I don’t. I can be… harsh. But I meant it. I just can’t say it like you do. I’m terrible at that.”

That was true, despite all her other talents.

“You're my crowning jewel,” she said. “My—my magnum opus, even. But you’re also my friend. You’re the only person I care about.” 

“I know that.”

And he couldn’t hold grudges, when she spoke that way. It was all so stilted, so artlessly sincere. For once, the words were slow and careful, purely meant for him. He had already forgotten the rest of their conversation.

She fell silent. It seemed as though she had been distracted by something.

He looked up at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you ever want to leave?” she asked.

"Do I have a choice?"

“No.” She searched his expression intently. "You don't."

He stared back with the same intensity. "Then stop asking me stupid questions."

She didn’t move away, and for a moment she was completely still. Her gaze lingered, as dark as night, burning like distant fires. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. 

It didn’t matter. She knew he wasn’t going anywhere. Perhaps that was for the best. His circumstances had always been difficult, but he used the cards he was given the best he could. He would be happier this way. Playing his role until the bitter end.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl @lthrboy @whumpy-wyrms

@yassifiedinformation @creppersfunpalooza

@vidawhump @dont-look-me-in-the-eye

[mvltisstuff]

dreaming of you - e.b

summary: what if the lightning strike killed buck, and y/n and the 118 were left to pick up the pieces?

evan buckley x reader

prepared to make ppl sad!!! this is one of my favorite pieces, i hope you enjoy <3

y/n’s hand was being gripped by maddies, staring at the useless ring on her finger. the one that had become so agonizing in the snap of a finger. they sat in the pews together, surrounded by his family and her own. the 118. her eyes were glued to the wooden box at the front of the church.

the second that intubation entered bucks mouth, everyone knew it wasn’t coming back out, unless it was to finish him off. the lightning strike had hit him at the perfect time, stopping his heart and doing irreparable damage to his brain cells. she knew his exact condition. she repeated it in her head over and over again until it was engraved in her mind like an oath. she swore to marry him, she swore that she would walk down the isle and meet him at the end. all of those promises had been demolished as a result of the storm.

she was completely numb, like she had novacane all over her body. she felt nothing from the monitor connected to buck had made a deafening beep, that failed to cease. buck was her lifeline, her source of energy and he was gone. he was dead, and there was nothing she could do. she felt like god was laughing at her. making a mockery of her by taking him away from her.

whenever someone hears about the five stages of grief, it’s often in a tv show or somewhere in the media. everyone forgets about it up until the moment of loss. there is no possible way to prepare yourself for the reality that is a smack across the face from heaven.

stage one • denial

bucks side of the bed was cold like the winter breeze in the morning. it was painful to touch, feeling like a sting in the heart. y/n couldn’t stop herself from reaching over to place her hand on him, until her hand confronted the empty sheets below her hand. every single day, she came home from that current distraction to see him, and would spend minutes searching for him. minutes, only to realize that he died.

death is a wild thing. a sick and twisted, but inevitable thing. from the moment a person is born, they’re dying. you cannot prevent death. everyone has different definitions to death.

death

/deTH/

noun

1. the state of being dead

2. the permanent ending of vital processes

3. the action or fact of dying or being killed; the end of the life of a person or organism.

eventually, y/n removed his pillows in avoidance of any reminder of buck. she was practically in hiding from her fiancés state like a wanted person.

stage two • anger

y/n was forced to look in the mirror every day. she had to go to work and look presentable. the only thing she felt was rage. rage for everyone who let this happen. when a person doesn’t have control in their life, stress and fear arise. she couldn’t control what happened to buck. she couldn’t have stopped him from climbing up that ladder. some resentful part of herself wanted it to be her. pissed, she scowls at herself for even falling in love with him.

her life was becoming overcomplicated with the bitterness she had from bucks death. she silently cursed the doctors, when she knew deep down that they did their very best. not everyone can be saved. she swore to the skies, yelping out in agony from the loss of her love.

step three • bargaining

sitting on the dewy grass in front of the headstone, y/n picked the wilting petals off a flower that had grown next to him. she zoned off into a reenactment of the night. buck climbed onto the ladder. the thunder roared. the hoses were turned on. the lightning came down. the lightning brought buck with it.

she wanted to reverse time like a record. she wanted to run up on that ladder and take the strike. she wanted to take the power of electricity and move the strike off his strong, but fragile body. she begged someone, anyone, to turn back the calendar and bring her back to that day. to halt him from speeding up the ladder with his sweet grin and motivated personality. it had been stolen from her grasp before she could even react and scream his name.

some might call it selfish, but she even asked them to take her and bring him back. he was so beyond loved in this world, and he had so much left to do. the fact that she had to give it up and sign the papers was the worst part of it all. she wanted to sneak into the hospital files and erase her stupid signature. the ink that took her best friend away.

step four • depression

chores.

everything in life became a chore. waking up was exhausting. when y/n opened her eyes, she was disappointed, like someone had broken bad news to her. she had been taking time off work, not being able to shake her foggy mind of his face. she stopped getting dressed in the morning. she wore sweatpants and baggy shirts all day. y/n had abandoned herself trying to give her life back to buck. she wanted to live her life for him, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave the house.

the dinners and gifts had been nonstop to her house, being left on her doorstep or knocking to hand it directly. she had been checked on by hen, who was bombarded with the scent of whiskey. she swore she didn’t drink that much too often, just enough to take a little bit of the torment away. the 118 helped her constantly by cleaning her house, putting away gift baskets. she couldn’t bring herself to push away from them. the greatest people in bucks life were the 118. they allowed him to make a home there, and he would despise it if she distanced herself.

stage five • acceptance

beating avoidance is a huge step to accepting someone dying. bucks drawers had been stocked full of his items, his products were spread out on the bathroom counter. his favorite coffee was in the cabinet and his shoes were still by the door.

y/n finally decided to stop the affliction of cleaning his belongings out. she forced herself out of bed and swiped all of his things into a box to bring to the shelters. somehow, she managed to bring the clothes out and take in his refreshing scent. they forever smelt like him the same way her house would be intoxicated with it. no air freshener could cover up the torturing aroma.

she refolded all of the clothes the same way he would’ve liked, placing them on the bed, and into a box. there were so many things that she couldn’t bring herself to donate. his jewelry, his books, his coffee. some part of her was ready to face the reality.

her bare feet stepped onto the balcony, glaring at the orange and yellow sky with hints of pink. buck loved sunsets, and a part of her knew he had put that there for her. you always hear that they’re watching over you, but it sure didn’t feel like it. you want to think that, and maybe it’s a placebo effect. it wasn’t until y/n imagined herself back at the beach with buck, watching the sun cascade below the horizon, that she realized it was true.

the way the color reflected in her eyes reminded her of the way bucks blue eyes shined. the way his perfect teeth had glimmered in the light and even any time he smiled. buck woke up for her every day with a smile on his face. it will never make sense how someone can be so loving to the world around him. it will never make sense how that was stripped from the earth.

death is something that no one can answer. why does it happen and how can you face it? there is no facing death. you will never win. its like a game of pinball, no matter how many shots you take, you lose in the end. the arena falls down around you and the world you thought you knew so well changes completely. you don’t get rid of death and you don’t beat it. you learn to cope with the damage. losing someone is not for the weak or the strong. it’s not for the civilians and not for the superheroes. live for the dead, and portray their strength through you.

y/n’s heart beats for buck. she woke up for him and went to bed with him. she came out of every burning building to be with him and she would fight every single war to have him. there is no changing what’s within her, and he is a part of her now. and that is something death will never be able to take away.

[copperpipes]

Speaking of speculative biology, I've been coming up with creatures for the alien planet of my friend

The creatures on the planet don't have mouths and photosynthesize and have three pairs of limbs so it's been fun trying to figure out how a predator works but I think I got it

They have a 'mouth' on their stomach and it's like a jellyfish that takes in food and expels waste with the same hole. The face is used for stabbing and the arms grapple prey and tear them to pieces

But honestly the best part is that I managed to make dragons like creatures!

The autotrophs are a magenta color instead of green, but funny enough they have green blood. They don't use their wings to fly, except the smol guys,but to capture sunlight!

There are humanoid-like creatures too that's the species of my friend, but the family is diverse!

I also have insects like creatures where the wings are from ancient gills like how this world's insects are thought to evolve them.

The first pair of limbs on the insect form and the huh, idk I don't have a name for the top row, can taste things

The dragon forms most likely lost that but still have taste receptors else where

And the bird forms have more taste receptors on their belly area because the first limbs are covered in sharp teeth-claws

Speculative biology is a lot of fun

Rad

But I do have an important note for you.

I'll start from ❗you don't have to listen to me❗

I am but a little nerd, this is just an issue I want to point out to maybe help improve your and your friend's work, do with this whatever you want :]

So, the issue i found is with your photosynthesizing life forms. I guessing you based this idea off the leaf sheep slug, which is the only animal that uses photosynthesis as one of its sources for energy(that's not a plant or a coral, or plankton), because just photosynthesis cannot be the only one. The only ones who can use just photosynthesis are algae, plant cells, and generally sessile organisms like sometimes dinodlagellates who live in corals.

Point is, photosynthesis works on a cellular level. Mostly only for the cell itself, even plants (single cellular and not single cellular, there are exceptions in both) can't live only off of the energy photosynthesis provides, they still need additional nutrients and minerals for everything to work.

For moving creatures, ones who have a brain and muscles and need to run from predators, it wouldn't be enough. Luckily this is fixable, and with no need to significantly change anything or cutting things out.

Some suggestions (again you can ignore this, but if you still decide to use it, you don't have to credit me)

1. Increase surface area and chlorophyll concentration;

You already covered them in little fur which is a step in the right direction and a very cool design point ;] but really don't be shy with it, look at the leaf sheep again

Look at those booshes

And the higher concentration of chlorophyll would be per spot the more energy would be produced, you can kinda see that in plants in areas with rare or little sunlight, they either have a very saturated green color or a dark one.

2. Give them an additional/other way of getting energy;

I would recommend filter feeding through their wings to keep the no mouth bit. or they could dig into the ground and get nutrients like plants do while they sleep.

3. Take a turn from biology;

You know what else uses sunlight to produce energy and does it better then chlorophyll? Solar panels.

Yes, the material is man-made and inorganic(95% silicone, common thing in the earth's crust), but have you ever heard of the volcano snail (or Scaly-foot gastropod)? Very cool creature, it lives around hydrothermal vents and is covered with iron scoots with iron compounds in its shell. And enzymes are a thing :]

-

One thing doesn't exclude the other, so go wild!

Also instead of wings I could recommend sails, but that's for you to decide and the reasoning is great

Now that that's finished, imma [explode]

Like, this is so cool, creative, fascinating shit, delectable. Love the fact the chlorophyll is pink, love the jellyfish stomach idea, love the mantis arms. About the taste thing tho maybe not taste but smell? Like ants

And yes, spec bio is a lot of fun, I wholeheartedly agree :>

[wildfire317]

@liveleaker @jaquesmes

Alright listen here you little inbred, KKK wannabe chucklefucks news flash neither of you are main characters and your barely even background characters so quit acting like you dumbfucks are worth more than the dirt under your toenails. Nobody in their right mind actually thinks your dumb racist, homophobic and sexist comments are funny or cute, you two just look like absolutely moronic dipshits with micro-dongs and chihuahua complexes. And another thing you living condom usage advertisements, Nobody wants your defective sewing needle sized, piss poor excuses for cocks that not even a rat could choke on or your rotting in the middle of a dry summer sewer smelling, flatter than a piece of paper asses any where near them and if you think they do your even less intelligent than a single cell organism. You both claim to be adults so goddamn act like it because as things are right now you're both acting like a pair of rocket propelled spaz maggots spring-loaded face first up the asses of psychedelic freakout weasels on idiot drugs. Also you want to call someone swagless and bitchless you might want to take a good long look in the mirror because I don't see a singular molecule of swag on either of you or a single bitch and I'm not surprised considering you both look like the kind of guys that order boneless, dry rub chicken wings and then lose a fight to a chihuahua. And by the way just because you pieces of dick-cheese started putting out at twelve and peaked at 15 doesn't mean you get to drag everyone else down the perverted dunkass tree with you. Also your 8 decade curse is the biggest joke in the history of curses from any religion it isn't even an actual curse, it barely even qualifies as a jinx and thats ignoring the fact that it's basically useless the way you attempted to use it anyways and was over all a monumentally stupid waste of everyones time so stuff that in your prison cell and sit on it. You two blithering, feculent, shit holes are such lame wastes of genetic material i would not be surprised if both of your probably absentee fathers wish they had worn a condom at the time of your conceptions which explains your blatantly fatherless behavior and I bet your mothers change the subject when anyone asks about you and envy people who have never met or heard of you. Your "your momma" jokes are the most pathetic I have ever seen, were either of you actually even trying or was that the extent of your creativity? Because they were the weakest, most uninspired and embarrassing "your momma" jokes I have ever had the displeasure of reading to the point that they barely even qualify, And don't even get me started on your insults because I have met 3rd graders who have better insults. Your "oh look at me I'm a terrorist" shtick is so stupid and pathetic i couldn't help but cackle at your waste of energy like what do you want a cookie? Because you don't even deserve the crumbs of crap after someone else ate a cookie so who even gives a barfing fuck about it? You jackasses are about as threatening as some mild flatulence. I hope you piss ant's have fun dying alone and unwanted and that every time you think you have to fart you end up shitting your pants, i hope that every time you go to put socks on they are soaking wet and ice cold, i hope that the next time you are anywhere near a lego set or box of thumbtacks you step on one, i hope that every time you go to bed both sides of your pillow are annoyingly hot and give you lice, and lastly i hope that every single time you go to walk past a piece of furniture that you bang your toes on it hard enough to break your toe bones. Isn't it funny how quickly your bullshit unravels when someone actually intelligent calls you out? Do the world a favor and delete all of your social media, go apologize to whichever trees are working their proverbial asses off to replace the oxygen you're both wasting and then sew your mouths shut you cowardly wastes of skin. Id say you could learn from this but then I'd sound just as stupid as you two. Sayonara you worthless, crotch-stained barf-puppets.

( @warringwarrioridiot @p1n34ppl3-c4t24 for your reading entertainment)

[cf56]

Would you describe the Warners' relationship as an enmeshed relationship/an example of enmeshment? I assume you're not a psychologist (or maybe you are, in which case sorry for the false assumption 😅) but I love your analyses of the Warners and am interested in hearing your thoughts.

If I was a psychologist, I likely wouldn't have had to look up what enmeshment is! I won't dig too deeply into it because this is an issue that affects real people and I am obviously not educated on it.

From my surface level understanding, enmeshment seems to be a toxic family relationship where individuality is discouraged in favor of prioritizing the family unit or the familial figures of authority. There are some characteristics of enmeshment that the Warners share. They're always together, they usually act as a unit, and they don't have strong boundaries.

However, it seems to me that a key part of enmeshment is that it's enforced by a family culture that expects you to be less individual and more just a part of the family unit. The Warners don't enforce conformity between each other. They support each other in every way and they celebrate their differences. Something that comes to mind is Wakko's burping concerts, where his siblings happily take on a supporting role, even though gross out humor isn't their thing. They don't expect Wakko to be just like them. They don't enforce unanimity or conformist thought. They're allowed to disagree with each other and say no to things. In fact, they do so quite often.

What the Warners have going on might not be entirely healthy, but I don't think it's enmeshment. I think it's more a bond formed through trauma and mutual protectiveness. They're always together because they all don't like being apart, possibly driven by separation anxiety or anxiety in general. The younger siblings look up to Yakko so much that they tend to agree with him and go along with his ideas without much thought. However, if they disagreed with something he said or refused to go along with a plan, he absolutely wouldn't punish them or make them feel like they're going against the family culture. He's very supportive of their individual wants and needs.

There definitely might be some psychiatric term for what the Warners have going on. They definitely seem much closer than just regular loving siblings. I've described them before as three cells of a single organism. Not being a psychologist though, I wouldn't even know where to start.

It's super flattering to hear your thoughts on my analyses! I love getting a chance to dig into their minds :D

[non-socialbutterfly]

I keep thinking about the silliness of Danny meeting the Na'vi and internally freaking out because of his ghost sense going off 24/7. So I had a few thoughts on how this crossover would work with intertwined lore of both:

Going based off the whole idea that certain ghost are Neverborn, created out of strong enough belief by large groups of people who's emotions and beliefs cause ambient ectoplasm to form a sentient being. Ewya was born out of the strong belief by many that we are not alone in the universe. So the generations of belief of life beyond our planet inadvertently caused ectoplasm to form a planet, a planet capable of sustaining life.

Na'vi don't just pop into existence, they too are results of evolution over the course of thousands of years. Their connection is Ewya is do to essentially being a byproduct of her. The strangest way I can describe it is how we shed off deadskin, Ewya is the source and the Na'vi are the organisms created from her shedding off ectoplasm. Sure that shedding was just single cell life forms, but they evolved to be greater life forms. Evolved to be shedded ectoplasm with their own cultures.

Because they are a byproduct of her and return to her after death, they don't show up in the Infinite Realms. Ewya herself could show up in the Infinite Realms, but that would require a portal large enough for a planet to fit through. So if Ewya was to die, generations of Na'vi consciousness will die with her. Without the records of the planet made by the RDA, it would be as though neither ever existed.

I'm thinking that Vlad may be involved with providing funding for the RDA, he may be curious if Unobtanium is useful in whatever gadet of the month he builds to mess with Danny. He may even sway the RDA with large donations and his own background in engineering to be allowed a trip to Pandora. If money and his resume doesn't work, he can always overshadow them to make himself authorization papers.

I can imagine he probably mentions the RDA to Maddie, thinking he can seduce her with a science flex. This greatly backfires as Jack overhears and now they both want to know more. Vlad would probably make up a long-haul plan on the spot of overshadowing higher-ups to get Jack and Maddie authorized to go with him. He'll evil cackle in a room alone, making some convoluted plan of rigging someone to make Jack die on Pandora so he can have Maddie to himself.

It's a gamble if Danny is already up there doing his own thing while secretly sabotaging the RDA. It would be pretty funny for Vlad to try and flex his connections just for Jack to say something like "Oh! Danny-O is up there too! Oh wouldn't it be a blast for him to work with his Godfather!" Vlad is not amused.

[tarotofzhivamoon]

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💌Love letter from your person💌

Hi! Thank you for stopping by and reading my work. I hope that you’re going to find the guidance that you need🫶🏻 You can now book a reading with me! Visit my services here and just message me if you are interested in booking any reading.

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Masterlist • P@tr30n • Personal readings

Pile 1

“I want to go above and beyond for you, on any level there is, physical intimacy, emotional intimacy, just give you the best of the best that there is on this earth and in the heavens, on this whole wide Universe, I would truly do anything to see you happy, to see you fulfilled and secure with me because that’s one of my priorities. I want to give you the best I have because I also know that you are so willing to show and give me the same love, appreciation, affection that I want to give you. You are everything to me, the moon to my stars, the perfect partner that just completes me so effortlessly, so organically, so magically, it all just feels like a fairytale when I am with you and there’s nothing else that I would want more than to be loved by you. I don’t want you to ever change because you are just perfect the way that you are right now, I love you with every cell in my being and I am so delighted that you have chosen me to be the one you love as well. We did have our fair share of setbacks, we didn’t always know what we know now about each other because we came from different backgrounds, there’s no relationship that doesn’t have it’s own little plot twists that could make or break it, but I am so glad that ours just got us closer together to one another, closer to actually realizing what we need to compromise on and we’ve managed to actually reassess our expectations to simply find that beautiful balance that was going to result in a really mesmerizing happiness within, for both of us. I actually know that if you were to look around yourself, you might find better options than me, you might see someone that just gets you faster than I did, but you don’t understand how grateful I am that you actually never cared for those other options, that you actually chose me and you are now standing in your decision every single day and I just hope that —

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Pile 2

“From the moment I saw you I wanted to give you the world, I knew that you were a blessing that the Universe has sent me and I was so appreciative to have even met someone like you because it was like I was handed the perfect gift at the perfect time and you were that perfect gift for me. I know that materialistic things do not really interest you, I really admired about you the fact that I can’t “buy” your love and that I had to actually work hard, to put in the effort to have someone like you in my life instead of just you being so easily obtained and honestly this opportunity to have you in my life has absolutely made me feel as though I finally received everything that I have always wanted, you are the one thing that I have prayed and wished for night after night, day after day and it’s just so amazing to have you here, to have your attention, to see how much thought, affection and care you put in your gestures towards me, everything that you’re giving me is just from your heart. I have learned so much about myself next to you, it’s like you have perfectly mirrored back to me everything that I needed to see about myself that I wasn’t really aware of before and I know you understand that two people can’t simply be in proximity to one another all the time, be a pretty big part of each other’s lives everyday and now experience some bit of friction because even though i feel that our connection is somewhat ethereal, we’re still human beings at the end of the day and we are going to disagree with one another at times. What I loved the most about this and about you is that when this tension between us arises, you have been able to make me feel as though I could share my feelings and thoughts with you, without being afraid of anything because there was such safety between us and I know that in the end we usually resolve any conflict that arises with such an elegance because we just work together, somehow. You always had it in you to —

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[tanadrin]

Hey... sorry if this is too much, but im a baby trans and ive been struggling to grasp the concept what gender is, everytime i try to look for a definition i only find the vague basics like "its what you identify as!" Or i find bigoted shit from trasphobes. If you have any recommendations of essays about gender from trans people who dive deeper unto the concept it would really help. Sorry if im bothering you i just dont really know who else to ask 😅

i don't know how helpful i can be. i have a very instrumental view of transition--i.e., if you think it might make you happier than you are now, you should give it a try and see. i think a lot of pointless verbiage is spilled on trying to nail down difficult-to-elucidate questions about purely internal experiences, about the distinction between gender and sex, and about what all this gender stuff means anyway. i think that stuff can be interesting to discuss, if you like that sort of thing (and i do!) but that loading yourself up with a lot of gender theory isn't actually useful for figuring out what you should do vis a vis your gender presentation and how you identify.

for those latter questions, i think the answer is simple: what makes you happier? when you imagine a given gender presentation, or your body being different in certain ways, or people calling you by a certain name, does that sound appealing? doesn't matter why. if so, go for it! and frankly this advice is quite agnostic of whether or not you're cis or trans. people should adopt the identities that feel most conducive to their happiness. you do not need elaborate theoretical justifications for any of it. anyone who demands an elaborate theoretical justification for how you dress or what name you choose to use or anything like that is an asshole whose opinion you can safely ignore. i guarantee you they are selective in this demand, and are only using it to try to find an excuse to be a dick.

that said, you want a definition of gender, and i guess i can try.

"gender" has no definition. that's not meant to be a smart aleck answer. what i mean is: "gender" is a conceptual category. conceptual categories do not exist outside of our discourse about them. there is nowhere in the world you can go to lay your hands on A Gender. there is no Gender Particle. and while in most philosophical traditions we think of categories as having necessary and sufficient conditions for membership ("a human is an animal descended from the last common ancestor of humans and chimpanzees" might be such a taxonomic definition), conceptual categories aren't actually constructed that way. because that's not how the human brain actually works: when you're a kid learning what words mean, you don't learn "a chair is a thing with four legs you sit on." that wouldn't be accurate anyway (a horse is not a chair). you see lots of chairs and pictures of chairs and you form an image in your mind of what a chair is and when you see a thing your brain compares it to other things like it you've seen before, and if it looks like your mental model of a chair, you think, "chair."

(this is in fact how almost all definitions work in practice. even for formal scientific categories for which it seems like a traditional definition might be workable, because our terms are so specific, there are problems and corner-cases. is a HeLa cell a human? it's certainly an autonomous organism. it's certainly descended from the last common ancestor of a chimpanzee and a human being. but it's a single-celled organism that exists only in laboratory cultures, and lacks everything else we expect a human to have.)

so, uh, gender. "gender" is from the latin word "genus" meaning "kind." it is a doublet (that is, shares an etymological origin) with the words "genre" and (more distantly) "kin." obviously, a word's etymology is not its meaning. confusing the two is called the etymological fallacy. but originally when we talked about "gender" we were pretty explicitly talking about categories in general, and i think that's useful to keep in mind. incidentally, "sex" (also from Latin) has a similar etymology--it's related to "section," i.e., the creation of a category by dividing a group. though "sex" acquired something like its current meaning much earlier.

most human cultures group humans into two broad conceptual categories. this is based on a variety of traits, of which physical traits like genitals are seen as frequently foundational. some cultures explicitly create additional ancillary categories, or provide a means to move (often only partially) from one category to another. contemporarily, there has been an effort to distinguish "biological sex" (seen as what chromosomes you have, reflected by what genitals and other physical characteristics you have) from "gender" (seen as a question of social presentation).

i think this is a mistake. you might be able to spot why--biological sex is a conceptual category! most humans are xx or xy, but there is in fact a wide variety of sex-chromosomal arrangements that are possible. xx and xy are only the most common. biology is messy, and it's hard to tell how messy, because we don't routinely karyotype people. the existence of rare-but-noteworthy conditions like complete androgen insensitivity (frequently reuslting in a chromosomal "male" that is "mis"identified as and lives their whole life as a female) highlight that even within the purely biological realm, sex emerges only as two broad clusters, not as two clearly divided bins. moreover, a trans person who has been taking cross-sex hormones for many years is in a sort of willingly-imposed intersex state. so saying a trans woman is a "biological male" or a trans man is a "biological female" (especially if they have had an orchiectomy or hysterectomy and can no longer produce gametes of their respective assigned sex at birth) is sort of funny--we're privileging an (assumed) chromosomal arrangement over the biological facts on the ground. and while DNA does control a lot about how our bodies grow and develop, it can in fact be overridden! otherwise, cosmetic surgery, or hair dye, or LASIK surgery would all be exercises in futility.

"gender" is sometimes also talked about as a set of internal experiences. you "feel like" or "identify as" a particular gender. and while it's certainly plainly true for some people (both cis and trans), it seems not to be true of everybody (cis or trans), and for other people it's hard to say. not everybody has perfect access to their own feelings all the time. people get told they're lying about what they feel when that's socially inconvenient for other people. and internal states are impossible to measure or verify. they're also often pretty hard to put into words, and we mostly can access them only indirectly, by sidling up to them, or by trying to find other people whose experiences/thoughts/feelings seem to resonate with our own.

so i don't have a definition of gender for you, or an etiology, or even a very robust account. sorry! but i also think that anybody trying to tell you they do is operating from an understanding so narrow that they don't even begin to understand its limits.

[omniblades-and-stars]

The loss hurt, no, worse than hurt. It ate up every little bit of light that was in his life. It was a clawing, desperate monster that sat heavy in the pit of his stomach. It squeezed his lungs, made him choke on food before it even made it to his throat, and made him sluggish and angry. He lost his ship, and that was bad enough. One of the true joys of his life, blown apart in space by the kind of spooky legends that everyone swore didn't exist, right up until they were being blasted into pieces by them.

But that wasn't the loss he was really mourning. It was only a small part. You see, there was this woman. Not just any woman, either. She was powerful, wicked smart, a little cheesy, stupid hot, a certified hero and now, she was super dead. And it was his fucking fault.

His stupid fault for being so attached to his ship that he was fully planning to go down with it when she went and did the heroic thing and pulled his ass out of the cockpit by force and crammed him into the last escape pod. She wasn't able to get inside of it herself, and he wasn't capable of pulling her in. He watched with stone cold terror as Commander Shepard was ripped away from the Normandy by an explosion with only enough time to launch his sorry butt away from the wreckage.

It should have been him. She should have gotten in the pod and left him to suffocate and burn up on atmospheric entry. She was too brave for her own good. And he was a coward.

Couldn't even tell her that he had feelings for her. Not that he was ready to admit it until she was already gone. You don't know what you've got till it's gone, blah, blah, blah.

Besides, she was out of his league by about three star systems. She was Commander Shepard, Alliance legend, total badass, and the very peak of physical performance. And he was Jeff, the totally average looking guy with creaky, fragile bones and crutches.

He couldn't imagine that Shepard could think of him like that. And he'd never know for sure now anyways. Thinking about it was a pointless exercise in making himself feel like shit, there were only losers inside his head right now.

Everything fucking sucked after she died. He got to fly the most advanced starship in the Alliance Navy, with the best crew, and the galaxy's savior for such a short time, and now the Alliance had him reassigned. If he couldn't have Shepard back - and he couldn't because she was very, very, super fucking dead - he wanted to at least fly.

Still, it wasn't the same. There was no goofy Commander making bad jokes, no shy asari scientist stumbling on accidental innuendo, not a single hardass turian, or terrifying krogan making sure no one ate a bullet planetside. Not even one sweet quarian engineer helping Adams keep the drive core balanced so Joker could pull insane maneuvers. No more interspecies cooperation. No more saving the galaxy either. It was all bullshit.

It didn't help that the Council and Alliance brass were both sticking their fingers in their ear holes and shouting, "La-la-la, I can't hear you!" over Shepard's warnings that Sovereign wasn't the only Reaper. Now that she had bitten the dust, it was even more disrespectful.

Perhaps it was a grief-addled mind that led him to jump at the opportunity, even if she would have hated it, but when he was approached by Cerberus, of all organizations, to join as a pilot in their Lazarus Cell, he went for it. They wanted to stop the Collectors, and they rebuilt the Normandy. Not just rebuilt, they made her bigger, more powerful, more beautiful. More ship to love. They even made the pilot's chair comfortable. Real leather seats, baby!

But he was lying to himself and everyone else if he told them it was just for the ship. You see, they were trying to rebuild Commander Shepard too, and that Lawson woman was certain it was going to work. Joker avoided Lawson as much as possible, she was all business, and he was sure she wouldn't hesitate to smear his carcass on the wall if he cracked any jokes about a zombie Shepard, but if she said they could bring the Commander back, he fucking believed her. And he was pretty sure it wasn't just blind optimism and desperation that made him believe her.

Mostly.

He knew he'd made the right decision when Dr. Chakwas joined on. Of course, the first thing she did was chide him for not taking his medication enough. Karin claimed that she only joined because he needed someone to make sure he was taking care of himself and managing his disease appropriately or whatever. They both knew that was a lie. They were there for one reason, and one reason only, Commander Shepard.

The new starship was just a really, really expensive bonus. Just the best bonus a guy could ever dream of getting.

Now, if he'd had his way, Joker would have thrown a resurrection day party for Shepard, complete with zombie themed cupcakes, and those little poppers that sent confetti flying everywhere. And booze. A lot of booze.

And strippers.

But something happened at the Lazarus Project labs, and God only knew what because trying to get information from Cerberus insiders was like trying to get blood from a particularly dry rock, and he didn't get the chance to set it up. She wasn't supposed to be awake yet. She was already back.

He didn't really care for drama, at least, not the kind of drama that The Illusive Man seemed to thrive on. So when he walked - or limped - into the QEC conference room on the station they were headquartered at to find Shepard finishing up her call with the big man himself (The Illusive Man, not God), he felt kind of like an asshole. Well, a worse kind of asshole than the one he already was. Sneaking up on a woman who had only been alive again for like a day and a half seemed like the worst kind of practical joke.

Her back was turned on him, but he would know that fiery red hair anywhere. He heard good ol' "Timmy" say something about someone from her old crew, and then disconnect the call. When she turned to see him a cascade of thoughts crashed into his head, and he was glad for once that he managed to keep his stupid mouth shut.

Holy shit! - It's her! - Why is her face glowing? - Do other parts of her glow? - Focus, damn it. - Quick, tell her a joke!

His brain was too busy processing all of the input and raw joy he felt knowing that she was alive to open up with a witty one-liner. It didn't matter anyways because in a split second, Shepard was crushing him in an iron grip hug. The plates of her armor dug into his skin through his uniform. It was bone breaking.

Like literally bone breaking.

"Jeff, you're alive!" She sobbed into his neck as she squeezed him mercilessly.

"Yeah, not for long if you keep squeezing me like that! The bones, remember?" He managed to gasp out as he awkwardly tried to hug her back from within the crushing weight of her grasp. Shit, he forgot how strong she was.

Shepard pulled away abruptly but kept her hands on his shoulders, "Shit, I'm so sorry. It's just … the last thing I remember is the escape pod and these assholes didn't tell me if you'd made it." She met his eyes and she was definitely crying, red-eyed, sniffling, snot, the whole shebang. He'd be embarrassed for her if he wasn't so affected by it.

And damn it, she was actually literally glowing. There were cracks in her skin, like if he got too close he might see the gooey bits underneath. And from the cracks came a strange, amber glow, similar to the light from an omni-tool. Shit, now she really looked like a superhero. Somebody needed to pinch him, because superhero Shepard was the topic of no fewer than four of his nerdiest fantasies. Some other types of fantasies too.

Shepard took her hands back and wiped her eyes with gauntleted hands. "You asshole, why'd you join Cerberus?" If she was trying to sound mad, she was doing a bad job at it. Her sobs turned to relieved laughter as he led her out of the conference room.

"Nobody else was doing anything about the Collectors threatening the colonies," he started to explain. "Besides, they brought you back, so they can't be all bad."

"Joker …" Shepard groaned.

He panicked and struggled to find words to fill the air. He settled on redirecting the conversation, and exclaimed, "They also rebuilt my baby! You're gonna love her!" Stupid. Of course she would be upset that he buddied up with Cerberus. He led her to a darkened observation window, the one that looked out over the Normandy's docking bay. He hit the window controls.

The awed gasp that she made would live rent free in his head until the day he died.

"Oh my God!" Shepard bounced up on her toes. Her eyes were wide as saucers, and just like that, her reservations were forgotten, for now at least. Just outside the new Normandy waited for her Commander. And fuck was she gorgeous. Almost twice as big as the original, she was a powerhouse of a stealth frigate. "She's beautiful! And this is my ship?"

"Hey, now, this is my baby. You can have her on weekends and every other holiday."

"The drive core must be insane! Oh, I can't wait to get in her guts and see what she can do."

This was definitely the Commander he missed - smart, funny, and into spaceships. And little too into disassembling expensive tech so she could find out what made it tick. Borderline serial killer behavior if her victims had been living beings and not guns, cleaning bots, the Mako, and at least one of her omni-tools. "Gonna have to veto that, Commander. You never put it back right."

[androgynousblackbox]

How To Lose A Lucifer In 10 Days. 24 [Appleradio, Radioapple]

Step 24: Yell with him

As soon Alastor woke up in the white room after being send to sleep in his cell, he was already angry about it. Sick and tired of being dragged around by everyone else, of being manhandled, manipulated and mocked. His autonomy forgotten, his safety a foreign idea nobody cared about. Forced to have to endure that fucking shitty version of himself that had forgone all sense of dignity for the sake of a tiny king, just before when he thought that whole chapter was over and could finally return to normal. The words they spoke came easy and clear for him, feeding the explosion brewing in his chest.

How dared he to speak of pity to him? How dared he to even suggest that he could ever want to belong to someone, at all? What did that shitty broken reflection even knew about him really? He didn't had to fight as hard as he did in hell, that was perfectly clear. He only had, what, twelve, thirteen years going on his own before he became Lucifer's little pet? Of course he had no idea what desperation was truly like, because he was handed a fail safe way early on his career and so now he thought he had any right to judge those who didn't. Of course he didn't worry about ruining his body, maybe forever, because of his dear beloved being right there, like a grotesque siames twin.

What was so great about having one anyway? It just made someone to lose sight of what was truly important. It made people vulnerable, dependant, weak. Stupid. It made them turn around from achieving everything they had worked for to give it to someone else. It made them care about that someone without a second thought, without minding what it could cost, without thinking that there was not going to be any gain from it anyway, because at least that someone was happy and for some ungodly reason that was enough. It turned the whole world upside down and then it made you feel like you could be fine about that. Just how truly awful of a disease was that?

If that other version of himself got something like that, he should be the one being pitied, not Alastor. Even if somehow Lucifer didn't use the contract to force him into a relationship, which was still up for debate as far he was concerned, he very much acted like a slave anyway. Always at his side, always letting himself be touched, always attached to Lucifer one way or another, always aware of where the tiny king was, concerned for him, needing him like a dog to its owner, like a junkie his next hit. Anyone could see that was just another prison to be in.

If Alastor wanted to get out the hotel and take a few days off, he could do it. If he wanted to broadcast for a whole day until late at night he could do it, without tiny kings coming to tell him to go to bed. He had no one to care about but himself. A comfortable and good life, with it's own downs points, true, but entirely his, no one else's. Everything he had was because of his own hardwork, not because of any single contract, deal or clingy protector sniffing the back of his neck every waking hour. It was all his choices and actions. Nobody could ever take that away from him. That fallen had no pride like him, didn't struggle like him, so of course he would never get it.

If he ever got involved with any of their nonsense in the first place was purely for the sake of finally cutting the last restraint he had and get back to the demon he was before that brief lapse of judgement. Not because he owed any of those people anything. He didn't asked to be dragged further, he didn't want to have his insides go against him and his stomach to flip and his chest do weird things that he never had to deal with before. All of that came to him against his will and then it stayed and now he had no way to get rid of any of it and now he was trapped in Heaven without any clue of how to escape.

Suffice to say, when he realized that the door wasn't oppening from the inside, that didn't exactly calmed him down either. The destruction of the table and chairs wasn't enough, but it was all that he could do because he couldn't attack that fallen or his exasperating tiny king or whatever curse he had placed on him that had derrailed his life so badly. The one and only saving grace out of anything on that situation is that he knew that she could never reach him there. Therefore he was free of her leash, at least for now. Being a prisoner of Heaven was not that different than being a prisoner in Hell, though, so it was back to destruction.

By the fourth time that all pieces of furniture returned to their rightful places, completely intact, without a single scratch on them, Alastor prefered to sit on the floor, marinating on his own displeasure as the familiar sounds of disturbed radio demon passed through right outside the door without stopping until it dissapeared at the distance. To top it all off, someone had let the fallen free. Idiots, all of them.

When the door opened up and Lucifer came inside, Alastor looked only mildly surprised before the man raised both his hands in the air.

"Wait, I am not who you think" said, closing the door behind himself. In the blink of an eye, where stood Lucifer now was a taller angel with bright soft blue dots on the cheeks and big brown eyes that looked almost golden. But the shape of the face and shade of blonde was unmistakeable. "My name is Zadkiel. You can call me Zad!" added with an akward chuckle, before clearing his throat. "Sorry, I was supposed to talk to you as if I were Lucifer, but I am really bad at acting. I-I heard the noise coming from here and thought well, that is a guy who is probably not going to appreciate being tricked right now, so maybe this is better?" Another uncomfortable laugh that Alastor could only respond by narrowing his eyes. "Sorry. This is probably not ideal for you."

"Why were you supposed to trick me?" Alastor ignored that attempt at sympathy.

"Um, the idea was so you would trust me and… maybe talk if you have any plans to disrupt heaven somehow with your Lucifer" explained the angel, twisting his robe on his hands.

Alastor nodded, as if that made perfect sense. Internally screaming because who the fuck said that was a thing that was going to happen. When that was ever an option in the table. Whose dirty hands typed that on the menu. In what moldy discolored zine, done by one single lunatic on his basement, was that even a rumour. From what half lobotomized brain did that specific delusion sprung from.

The idea of disrupting heaven, by itself? Absolutely hilarious. A great form of entertainment worth a laugh or two. A cute little fantasy whenever it tickled his fancy, for sure. Any self respecting lover of chaos would like the notion, at the very least. See all those goody two shoes scream in terror at his mere presence, realize that the power of good had nothing against his own? Comedy gold. With Lucifer, though? The old Lucifer he knew was never going to be up for that. The man didn't even want a revolution against Extermination despite it happening in his own territory and only intervened, if all the accounts he heard about it are to be believed, because a treaty had been broken first when his own daughter was in danger. That was the truly fantastical element that made the whole concern a complete joke without even a punchline that made it worth it.

"I see" said simply, lifting his eyebrows. "And how, if you don't mind, was I ever supposed to achieve that? I assume you were all working with some kind of theory rather than having this fear come out of thin air" Or hoped so at least, because if not and he was taken out of Hell to Heaven for fucking nothing, then that was quite the sign of utter incompetence.

"Well… we aren't really sure. Maybe with some new kind of big power at your disposition? We-we know about the origin stones you were all searching."

"Ah! Did you now" Alastor smirked wider with a hidden, but increasing, irritation. If Heaven was responsible for the reason why he had to tolerate that pair for as long as he did, then that would only be the only extra bit of excrement on the manure sandwich he already didn't want in the first place. "So, just to make sure we are on the same page here, would that perhaps have something to do with our inability to put our hands on any of them?"

"Wait" Zadkiel frowned, as if finally realizing this wasn't the direction their conversation was meant to go. Alastor blinked with apparent doe eyes until the angel doubted even more about his words. "No?"

Alastor marked that as a yes. Cursing all of their holy existence to hell and back, he stand up from the floor and fixed his suit from any percieved imperfections.

"Very well, I believe you" declared casually, moving to sit in the chair he had destroyed many times already. "After all, what reason could have Heaven to start making their angels to lie to a demon such as myself? Of course that the power of the truth is greater than any deception could ever be. Lies are the ugly sons of humanity's sin, not things for divine beings to bother with" He pretended he didn't see the sprinkles of blessed sweat forming in the forehead of the angel or the shifty way his eyes moved across the room. Instead, he had one of his tentacles moving the chair in front of him and made a gesture to invite the angel to sit down, as if this was just another friendly visit on his own house. "Well, since you have been nothing but honest to me, my friend, I guess it's only fair to return the favor! What exactly is that Heaven is interested to know about me and my intentions? I will be completely honest and true. Scouts's honor" said, lifting one middle finger. When the angel looked expectantly confused by the gesture, he clarified. "Oh, you wouldn't know about that here, but down there in Earth that is a sacred oath that we humans make sometimes to give value to our words. You don't desecrate scout's honor even if you are as evil as I am. That is one of the few sacred things that we all adhere to no matter what" added with a solemn nod. They already screwed with him more than they ever had a right to, so he might as well screw with them a little bit in return.

"Oh!" Zadkiel repeated the gesture back to him and Alastor had to swallow up a laugh, wondering if this how angels could get corrupted. Instead of voicing his delight, he nodded approvingly. "I see. Thank you, I was really hoping that you could be reasoned with. I mean, you didn't do… the horrible things that other Alastor did, so one could only hope."

It took a moment for Alastor to bring back the context behind those words. In one of his rambles about his husband, Lucifer had talked about how the fallen have turned into a fallen in the first place. He realized suddenly that there was never a lot of details around that story and he never bothered to ask either, since there wasn't a reason for it. The mere concept of a version of himself getting redeemed to go to Heaven he could reduce it to just being from another dimension, another person, whose similarities were merely superficial at best, so not really useful information to have. More so if they were working under the assumption that soon Lucifer would just return to his rightful place.

The tiny monarch had spoken about that Alastor making a disaster up in Heaven and then a deal in order to return, reason why he was a fallen. If the deal was the soul contract that only made sense, but it was clear that whatever disasters he had made still remained on Heaven's memory. He felt a stinge of envy he shot at as soon as it appeared. To gain that kind of infamy up in the sky was an achivement, unquestionably so. Pity it had to go to someone like that guy.

"Oh, I would never!" assured, shaking his head slightly. "No, no, I only had a most normal existence down in Hell for a few little mistakes in life. Nothing that interesting or worth talking about. Just a regular old radio demon to make your acquantance, my good man" He smiled big and the angel corresponded with his own, which only encouraged him further. "Since we are both reasonable honest people, I am sure you will have no issue believing that I don't have any intention to overthrow Heaven. I have neither the resources, the time or the interest. My goals are far more simple and humble than that, and in no way would affect any other realm if I were to succeed. I promise you, Heaven has nothing to worry when it comes about me."

"What about your Lucifer?"

Alastor felt his smile twitch and he took a deep breath. There was no reason to lose his calm for such a small thing.

"He is not mine. If anything, he is old Lucifer for me" replied Alastor calmly, supporting his chin on the back of his hand. "What about him?"

"Do you know if he shares that sentiment as you? As if, he doesn't want to attack Heaven either?"

What a strange sensation of deja vu. For some reason, no matter where he went, people kept assuming he should know more about Lucifers than he actually did.

"Well, I certainly hope so! You would have to ask him, though. I have no idea how I should know."

At that, Zadkiel frowned for the first time since coming in there and Alastor did not like that. Doubt was a slipper slope in these kind of situation. It could end really badly for him if he let it grow.

"You two are having a baby and you don't know how he feels about his future plans? Isn't that a bit weird? What was that?" asked the angel when hearing the screeching of a record player coming to a sudden and violent halt.

"Nevermind that!" said Alastor, forcing himself to keep his smile steady, no change whatsoever. Even if the angel himself wouldn't notice a thing, he had to keep the calm in the exterior to help keep it inside too. "I apologize, I must have been distracted for a moment there. Could you repeat what you said before?"

"You two are having a baby, aren't you?" Zadkiel asked again and this time Alastor made sure to follow the movement of his lips, verifying that those words were indeed the ones coming out of him. "Your… the old… other Lucifer told us that is why we had to take the handcuff out of you. Because it could put the baby at risk. I am sorry, was that supposed to be a secret?" asked the angel, now genuinely concerned just as much as he was confused. "I-I don't know much about that kind of things. Winners or angels don't really reproduce either, so we don't experience what is being pregnant here. Is talk about that a social taboo for humans? If so, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Alastor blinked, staring at his face. His face that was longer than Lucifer's, but it was a pretty obvious reminder of the monarch that he forgot for a second he was looking for a signal of trickery. He remembered the horrible headache that he had on his cells, that his counterpart only decided to make worse by being as annoying as possible. Deciding the angel wasn't lying, Alastor straighten up his back.

"No, it's not. You can relax" said, just as much for himself as for the angel. He wasn't happy about the kind of lie that had been employed, but if it was going to give him a little more of control over his situation then he wasn't going to argue against. "It's a very new situation for both of us that we are still getting used to. It was a total shock. So unexpected that you could almost say it was impossible in the first place!" he chuckled, making a dismissive hand gesture.

"That is what we thought too" commented Zadkiel with a gentle nod. "But your old Lucifer said he used black magic. We know that the Alastor of this dimesion did managed to create his own daughter, so it wasn't completely unheard of either!"

Alastor refused to think about the logistics of Lucifer trying to get a sinner actually pregnant. Black magic was just of a vague of a term as saying energy, but he wasn't about to be the guy to teach the difference to Heaven.

"Indeed" said, squeezing both his hand together. "Beyond that, I am afraid there is not much else I could help you with. Your Majesty never gave me the impression that he was planning any attack against Heaven. Again, you would have to ask him."

"Samuel is doing that right now" Zadkiel frowned, as if suddenly realizing he wasn't supposed to say that. To just confirm that is exactly what happened, he tried to cough to cover up for himself and end up coughing for real a few times. Blushing at his own nervousness, he offered a sheepish smile. "So…" said, dragging the last letter, barely hiding his own curiosity, "Uhm… how long were you and Luci together?"

Alastor considered briefly to say that two people could have a baby without there being nothing between them. But then he remembered this was Heaven and that was probably too much of a complicated concept for them. One that could only confuse the angel further.

"Not much" said, deciding that keeping it vague was probably for the best.

"You two must really love each other in order to decide to create another life" Zadkiel offered with a smile. "I know the others view it as "breaking the natural order" because you already died, and it is, sure, but also means you both really wanted your own baby and, well, it has to be out of love, right?"

Alastor arched an eyebrow at that. For a moment he couldn't help to think about the fallen. That one had broken with the natural order two times already. It's not like he was completely removed from humanity to not understand the basic desire for a family. He just never knew that was even an option for him. And then he died and it became actually impossible, so it wasn't something that was worth thinking about.

"Is this related to proving our innocence?" asked, forcing himself to get back on topic.

"If I say yes, will you answer?"

Alastor took another deep breath and exhaled through his nose. Damned angel.

"Of course" said, keeping it short.

Zadkiel chuckled lightly.

"Sorry, I can tell you aren't used to that kind of talk."

"In Hell we do not, no" said sincerely, shrugging. "We have no need either. Actions speak louder than words anyway. That is why I don't believe you have any reason to be concerned about your Majesty. If that man hasn't tried to do anything in millenia, why start now?"

"Uhm, well, that is true" recognized Zadkiel. "The other… our Lucifer and his Alastor have more of a reason, since everything with them was more recent" Zadkiel cleared his throat. "At some point you all started travelling between dimensions, don't you? That is already a great power used right there."

"The first time was a mistake. We had no idea that it could happen and it was completely unvoluntary. The other times were just as unexpected. Then we did our best for everyone to return home before we were… transported here."

"Wait, unvoluntary?" said Zadkiel.

"Charlie made a wish, unaware of the power she was holding or it's consequences. Ever since then, both Lucifers have tried to revert the situation. Neither of us ever intended to use it for anything else" His own wish not whistanding.

"Uhm, but at some point even the other Alastor was on your place, right?" Zadkiel knocked on his chin, as if trying to remember the details. "I am sorry, I am just… trying to understand why he would have the power to travel to another dimension instead of just bringing his Lucifer over if that is all he wanted."

Actually, that was a good question. One that Alastor had no idea of how to respond. What was that Lucifer said the morning the fallen appeared?

"That was their connection through the pregnancy" said, realizing just now that was a flimsy excuse, but it's the only one he had been given. Now he was doubting about that as well. "As far I know, they just wanted to be together and that is how it happened. I don't know about any more details."

"Mmmm, I guess… that could be?" Zadkiel didn't sound so convinced. Without any more information, he couldn't dispute it either. The angel had literally just learned what pregnancies were in the first place that day. "Still, travelling across dimensions is something powerful that not anyone can do. Are you sure they weren't using a stone?"

"If they did, I have no idea why they wouldn't just wish to be at their own place together" Alastor shrugged again. "From the moment they were both there, they were still trying to leave."

Zadkiel nodded his head, going over his thoughts. Searching for something more to ask or for the better way to formulate it.

"I am afraid that when it comes to their intentions and their plans, I will come out short" warned Alastor. "If you have any doubt about them, I can't help much."

"Oh, I thought you were friends" said Zadkiel and then chuckled to himself. "I guess I didn't had any other reason than you are all similar."

"We have only known about each other for a month and so. We are acquantances at best, who all shared the same goal to return everyone where they belonged."

"Ah, I see. I guess it's more difficult to make friends in Hell than here" Alastor did not answer. He wasn't wrong anyway. "I imagine you must have missed your Lucifer very much while he was away" added with a sympathetic smile.

"Sure" Alastor said, deadpan. Mentally wishing this whole thing could be over already. "And he is not mine, again. Our relationship is… complicated. We are working on it" A second later he wondered why he was even bothering to say that. It's not like that was selling the pregnancy lie any better. "In any case, that is all I have when it comes to information."

"I am sorry" said Zadkiel, scratching his forearm under his robe. "I will tell Gabe to put you two together so at least you don't have to miss each other until all of this is over."

"Are you doing the same for the other Alastor?" If that meant that at least the two of them weren't going to be in the same cell again, he had no issue with that.

"It eh… would probably be easier" Zadkiel looked over his shoulder to the door, as if worried that the radio feedback would appear again coming to the room. He returned to Alastor with a relieved smile. "I am glad that you didn't react like that. Poor Jophiel got a good scare."

"Naturally" Alastor nodded, not bothering to point out there was no reason to keep them separated in the first place. If they were intending to lie, they were going to lie whether they were together or not. "I hope I could help to clarify my position by now. I represent no threath to Heaven, to this one or any other."

Hell was an entirely different matter. One that no angel in Heaven had any reason to intervene or bother with.

"Thank you for helping us figuring this out" Zadkiel sighed, relieved that he could come out of this without any major hitches. "I have to talk with the others and see what we can do. For now, you can return where you were."

"Ah, but…"

Alastor intended to say that there was no need for him to be in a cell. He was a poor defenseless father, after all! Only able to keep growing his totally real baby and wait for them to go home! No need to take such measures, especially for someone on his conditions that he absolutely had. But it only took one snap of Zadkiel's fingers for him to be facing a stone wall and he grumbled, rubbing his brow. He did appreciate that at least he was able to do that now.

--

From the moment they started following Sera, Lucifer haven't let go of Alastor's hand. The radio demon himself walked confidently with his other hand in his back, as if they were presenting a unified front. Only someone very observant would have noticed the glow of Lucifer's palm, constantly transfering magic through their union, looking to nurture their baby as much as to calm him down. Only by putting a rule in front of their feet someone might have realized that Lucifer was walking with slightly longer strides, as if putting himself between Sera and his husband, ready to take them both out if needed. No one would be able to tell from the outside how tightly Alastor's claw were closing around his hand, with such strenght that if it were a normal hand the owner would be begging him to let him go already.

The last time they had seen the seraphim, for Lucifer it had meant reuniting again with Alastor. For Alastor it had been five months looking at her face, being aware of her face, thinking about her face, and knowing full well that not a single move he made was going to go past her. He was no different than any other winner, his own powers taken from him after his second death, with no other means to defend himself from whatever she decided to do with him. His only way to survive that maddening situation was the idea that if he played nice, if he just acted well enough for Sera to believe he was adapting to Heaven, then he would have just enough freedom to carve his own way out.

Now things were different, for sure. For one, he was in full possesion of his magic power and then some more. Lucifer was just at his side, weakened by not being in Hell, but still considerably strong compared with other beings. They were vulnerable, but not defenseless by any stretch of the imagination. And yet, being was back in Heaven, in front of his most intransigent captor, he just couldn't fully relax. They had already tried to keep him locked up in a cell, they had send him to sleep, they tried to trick him with another angel and, for as poor of an attempt that it was, there was that intention of treating him like a prisoner again.

He had already gathered as much they were exactly in Heaven as much as another pocket dimension, similar to the one they were already in when searching the last stone. Designed to keep them inside for as long it was necessary, nowhere else to go, but still physically belongig to the realm of Heaven and giving them all the safe effects from it. A place that wouldn't let them to portal, teleport or move away from.

When they came inside a bigger office, not as blindingly white as whatever it was the space he escaped from, Sera sat behind a desk and offered the chairs in front of her.

"Take a seat, please. Then we can talk.

Alastor took one. He was about to cross his legs when he realized Lucifer wasn't moving.

"Thanks" replied Lucifer with an irritated tilt, sitting on his lap and putting his arm around Alastor's shoulders.

Alastor didn't bother to hide his smirk as he locked his arms around the king's waist. His weight and the natural warmth of his body was a better comfort than even his magic was. He nuzzled the cheek of Lucifer, staring down to the woman in front of them. Sera closed her eyes for a second, collecting herself. In Heaven they were not used to physical affection or too much contact. Lucifer had been a rarity even on that, from the very start. Emily had been able to adapt for being relatively young.

"There is a perfectly good chair right there, Lucifer. I can assure I didn't do anything to it."

"Nah, I am more comfortable here, thank you" said Lucifer, resting his head against Alastor's shoulder. He nuzzled the top of the blonde head and left a subtle, simple kiss of gratitude. "I can still hear you loud and clear, don't you worry about that. I am not hearing you explaining why the fuck we are here, though."

"Very well" Sera sighed. "The idea was to have you talk someone you trusted about your intentions regarding Heaven."

"The fuck does that mean?" Lucifer shrugged. "My intention was to never see you or Heaven ever again. I was planning to cut your call short if you do ever tried to communicate again, but you never gave me chance to, unfortunately for me. Were you planning anything with Heaven, babe?" added, brushing black fingers lazily on the hair of Alastor's nape.

"Not at all, dear" He reaffirmed his grip over Lucifer, leaving a gentle caress on his side. It was safe and reassuring to touch, to reaffirm each other that they were not alone. If it also managed to make Sera uncomfortable in any way, by all means, that just another perk. "If possible, I was willing to pretend it didn't exist at all. I wasn't particularly enthusiastic about visiting again anytime soon either."

"Exactly, see? We want nothing to do with any of you. So how about you open a little portal so we can go home already with our daughters? And send those other two to home too, they haven't done anything."

"Daughter" said Sera suddenly, catching Lucifer off guard.

"What?"

Sera joined her hands over the desk, lifting her chin.

"Daughter. You have one daughter. You made her, she is yours. And another kid on the way for what I heard, congratulations for that, but it's too soon to count them."

Lucifer slowly turned his head at him and made a little gesture towards her, lifting an eyebrow. Can you believe this shit?

"Oh?" started Alastor, pretending concern as he looked at her again. "Did you forget about Emily already? Soo soon? It hasn't been not even a year. That is cold even for you, dear."

"Haven't you done enough for the poor girl already?" added Lucifer, scoffing. "You also have to deny her family?"

The hands of Sera opened up for a second and gripped to each other. The tension on her jaws did not go unnoticed by any of them.

"I know you took her in when she…" she took a breath in, as if the word was too heavy to actually say.

"When you abandoned her to her luck in hell" finished Lucifer for her. "Because she dared to make too many questions. We know."

"She had nowhere else to go, so we gave her a home" added Alastor calmly, finding a perfectly predicable pleasure on how a side of Sera's nose twitched for the briefest of moments. That was already a lot more change on her face that he ever managed to see in his entire time in Heaven.

"And our last name" said Lucifer, nodding.

"She is a Morningstar just as much as Charlie is. Another darling princess of hell. I never had the opportunity to thank you for sending us such a splendid daughter, Sera. Thank you for leaving her straight with us to join our family."

"So lucky for us, babe."

Sera's hands slapped against the desk at the same time.

"Enough with that" said, barely lifting her voice. But for her usual composed deminor, she might as well could be yelling by now. "You didn't raise that girl. You didn't saw her be created. You didn't teach her how to fly. You are not her parents. I was there for all of that."

Lucifer's gaze snapped back to her with a rare glare.

"Funny, because she calls me papa pretty regularly now. She calls Al dad. She treats Charlie like her sister. That sounds to me like she wants us to be her family or something! Meanwhile, you let her be thrown away without a second thought, without saying a word. For that you have always been very good, Sera. Never change" hissed, his eyes narrowing as his snake tongue flickered between his lips.

"You have no idea what I went through when she fell."

"Good! Because we don't care!" said Alastor, barring his teeth. Sera jolted, blinking teary eyes that did nothing to move him. "But do you know what we do know, Sera? The gaping wounds on her back that her wings left when they burn out during her fall. I know the pain that girl was in better than you could ever know, my dear, and I hold her hand during most of it. So while you were here pretty cozy in Heaven feeling bad about yourself, my husband was treating her and giving her a safe place to stay when she had nothing. She became ours the moment you gave her your back, you have no right to complain now."

"And for your information, Al taught her how to bake. Did you even know that she liked doing that or you just never bothered to ask what she wanted to do besides "spreading joy", whatever the fuck that means? So much for being there for her, Sera!"

"You tricked her!" Now she did yelled, directing an angry grimace to Alastor. "You tricked her into seeing you as an innocent and that is what caused her fall!"

Multiple eyes opened up across her face and her wings, all flaming with the same intense despise. For any other mortal soul, it would have been a terrifying vision that no "be not afraid" would have calmed down. As for Alastor, and because this was the very first crack of emotion he was seeing from the seraphim, this was absolutely hilarious.

"An innocent?" Alastor laughed, first a resounding, loud wheeze that morphed into a screeching cackle. "Innocent? She was never stupid like that! Shows how much you know about her if you thought for a second she couldn't see me as I was right from the start! She wasn't tricked into anything! She choose to have more of a moral backbone than any of you ever had!"

"She had compassion when all of you fucks refused to listen to Al!" yelled Lucifer back, his demonic features popping out as his arms tightened up around Alastor's neck. To the king of hell, this wasn't funny. It was millenia of tensions finally finding an excuse to be released, it couldn't wait anymore. Alastor saw the fire coming out of Lucifer's mouth as his voice went deeper than the last ring of Hell. Not a small amount of pleasure caused him to think that it was caused because of him. "How the fuck is his fault that you forced him to be away from us! Emily was just doing the job you gave her! If you have a problem with that, take it up with the asshole who decided that made her unfit to stay here!"

"Don't you dare to speak of him like that! You of all beings…!"

"Or what, huh, he is going to kick me out again?! What the fuck do you think we both want right now!? I have better things to do than deal with this shit! Like being with both of my daughters back at home! Three if you count the exorcist that your shitty generale for the Extermination mutilated!"

"THAT IS ENOUGH!" For a moment the facade of Sera broke up, his face losing all humanoid features to become the face of a bird with eyes blinking and shinning with righteous white fury in each portion of visible skin.

The wings protruding from the back of her head flapped and then, in a single blink, they all looked shocked at themselves. Sera covered herself up, her shoulder slightly shacking as she forced herself to calm down. When she finally let her hands falls, a pair of eyes were still staring to them from her cheeks but eventually they returned to be hidden as well. Lucifer didn't let a single portion of his body to relax until she let out a deep sigh, returning to her chair.

It seemed that a long moment passed until she looked up again, as if in a daze. With each second, they were witnesses to her mask recomposing itself until it was fully sated back on her face. All the distress, anger and pain seemed to melt under the scorching weight of her imposed coldness. Only this time there wasn't an attempt at the polite smile that Alastor was used to by now. Instead, it was a neutral expression, purposefully vague, hiding.

"That is not what we were meant to discuss" said after a while, with each word straighten up her back. "The reason you are here is because of a prophecy" added when Lucifer was about to talk.

"A what now?" Lucifer's horn retracted back into his head, not all the way though, and his eyes blinked in usual yellow again. The only thing that haven't changed was the strenght with which he was holding onto Alastor. While the tensions were high, that was enticing and understandable, but right now Alastor decided it was too much and he pinched the king's side until he got the message. It took a beat for Lucifer to even realize what was the intention behind that. "Oh, sorry, babe" Lucifer relaxed his arm. Alastor heard something in his spine crack. He patted the high of Lucifer. "What do you mean prophecy?" continued the king, looking at Sera. "Do they still make those?" He asked as if it were a discontinued brand of snacks he never liked in the first place.

"It was a surprise for us too" Slowly, the voice of Sera started to lose her monotone inflexion and returning to normal. "Gabriel was delivered the prophecy that the first fallen angel would have access to a power great enough to rival, if not to surpass, Heaven itself. He will not be alone and bring an army with him. You are here so we can discuss about that and try to prevent it. The Gabriel of that other dimension recieved the same one, that is why those other two are here with us."

Lucifer's face aged two thousands of years as he processed those words. Alastor could barely understand himself the level of utter absurdity he was being subjected to.

"Are you… what" Lucifer shook his head. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"There are no more origin stones for us to use" said Alastor, forcing himself to impose some rationality. For his own sake too. "We have no such power. Or army for that matter."

"You did always to threaten us with it whenever it suited you" said Sera, giving to Lucifer a hald hooded look.

"Okay, that happened one time" pointed out Lucifer, lifting a finger. "And I was lying so you would give me that stupid meeting where all you did was humilliate my daughter anyway!"

"You eliminated the entire Extermination army and the first man."

"They had killed my husband! I was supposed to just forgive that?"

"You brought an army of cannibal sinners to our gates."

"Because you wouldn't tell us what happened to my mother" growled Alastor. "An actual innocent soul that had nothing to do with anything of what I did."

"Exactly! We just wanted to make sure she was okay!"

"Hmm. Sure it's convenient to have an answer for everything" Sera took a deeph breath and let it out, looking to a side. "That is the problem with lying, Lucifer. How am I supposed to believe you now when you say you don't want to attack us?"

Lucifer opened up his mouth, but no words came out of him as he stared at the seraphim.

"So what is the alternative then?" asked Alastor, gripping both his hand onto Lucifer. He could feel his breatbeat rising inside his chest as he was seeing where all of this was going. "Just keep us locked up here?"

"Not at all" A quick sign of disbelief crossed Sera´s face, as if that was the last thing she wanted too. "We only intend to make sure that prophecy won't come true and you don't represent a danger for us."

"Uh-uh" Lucifer slowly nodded. "But you don't believe me for shit and you don't listen to Al, so how is that supposed to work?"

"I guess we will have to see" Sera raised her hand and snapped her fingers.

"What does… Oh" Lucifer let his shoulders fall when they were back on the cell, sitting on the bed. His hands were back to be connected by the magic absorbing handcuffs. "I fucking hate when they do that" commented, rising his arms to liberate the neck of his husband at last. "If Charlie ever wonders why she isn't closer to her extended family, this is why."

He tried to stand up, but the free hands of Alastor clutched to his side again. It wsn't the strongest grab and if Lucifer wanted, he could still move. But coming from Alastor at all was enough reason for him to stay there, nuzzling his neck. That whole thing had been way too stressing, for both of them. Regardless of how shitty the situation was, it was good to know they were kept together at least.

"Welcome back, guys!" called suddenly his voice. They turned to see the golden bars. The other Lucifer waved at them from the cell immediately in front. The other Alastor was laying with his back against the wall, pacing from one side to another. "Did you all have one of our siblings trying to appear as someone else to gain info?"

"We did" said Alastor. Lucifer noticed the way the eyes of his husband took notice of his counterpart and a quick snear passed through his face. He had thought that things were already better between those two, but apparently he was wrong. "Badly, might I add. It didn't cost me a thing to see who it was."

"Same" Lucifer sighed. "They didn't even have Al hide his wings. Like, look at him! Do you see any wings right now? No, right? Then why would you pretend to be him with them?" He shook his head, dissapointed. In one hand, he knew that neither of his siblings was taught to be duplicitious or good actors in any sense of the way. But at least they could have put a better effort. "Good thing you took me out, babe. Raphael would not stop insisting."

"Jophiel broke as soon he got find out" Al lifted an eyebrow. "How about you, your Majesty? Anything amusing to report? Since I don't see their conversation being more useful than slamming one head against these bars."

"I am technically not anyone's Majesty here so… I guess you can just call me Luci, so it doesn't get confusing. Do you mind, buddy?"

"Nah, it's fine!" The king lifted a thumb up.

Luci nodded. He basically summarized the little bit of information he could get, the purpose of those interrogations, for lack of a better word, that he had confirmed with Alastor.

"I mean, this one" said Luci, pointing to the demon on the other side of his cell. "Uh… you are still Alastor, right?" said, realizing they haven't decided a way to not mix up the two radio demons yet. Or he didn't know about it.

"He can be Al now" said Alastor with a light chuckle, holding the king closer to himself. "We are in our dimension, after all. It seems reasonable enough."

Al scoffed. For now, they would have to take that as his acceptance for the diminutive.

"Anyway, point is, they are basically treating us like a potential threat" finished Luci.

"Which is stupid" added the king. "It's according to a prophecy that both Gabes from our dimensions got. Sera told us that already."

The pair on the other side both looked at him.

"A prophecy?" said Luci, frowning. "Do they still make them? Didn't we all agree already those are dumb? They never work to prevent anything."

"I know, right?!" The king rolled his eyes. "They are just confusing and annoying! If you know what is coming, but don't know how to stop it, what is the point? Just to cause you more stress?"

"What even is the prophecy about?"

"Something about me, I mean, the king of Hell so that includes you, gaining a power greater than Heaven and appearing with an army. Apparently something about that includes our Alastors so that is why they are here."

Luci squinted his eyes, going through the same stages of absolute confusion as he digested that information.

"That is it?" asked finally. "That bullshit is enough to take us all from Hell? Does it even say if we are going to do anything with that power or are just going to have it?"

"I have no idea, man. You know how they are."

"Damn, that is fucked up."

"Tell me about it."

"I got a little more than that" intervened suddenly Al with a little lilt in his voice. "Zadkiel didn't even bother to pretend with me. We had a rather illuminating conversation before he decided to send me back."

"Did he tell you about the pregnancy?" asked the king with a smirk. When Alastor arched an eyebrow, confused as to how that could be news for anyone at that point, he clarified. "The other Lucifer told them that his Alastor was pregnant too to get him out of the handcuff."

"Really?" Alastor took another look to his counterpart, for the first time realizing his hand were free, and he was avoiding his eyes with an dignified tilt of his head. "Oh, congratulations to you two then! How long is the baby now? Do you think it's going to be a summer child or a winter one?" He couldn't finish the last question before he was laughing behind his hand. "I can send you the number of a good babysitter when you two go out in a date!"

Al growled low, crossing his arms.

"Hey, at least it worked" said Luci, with a light blush in his face, scratching his neck. "Can we move on already?"

"Of course! First time parents can get so nervous, I understand! Lucifer was a mess when we had Charlie" added Alastor, only losing it further in giggles when Lucifer pushed his shoulder, until he laid on the bed.

"Just ignore him" said the king to the other radio demon. "What were you saying?"

Al cleared his throat.

"Apparently Heaven was behind our long streak of bad luck" said. "They were intervening all along so we wouldn't get in contact with the stones, but no prophecy was mentioned. I can only imagine they assume that great power we could acquire could come from them and acted in retaliation."

That made Alastor's laugh come to a halt. He lifted himself again. Lucifer only had to see his face to realize that their thought had gone down the same path.

"Wait, seriously?" said Luci, his face suddenly lightning up with understanding. "Oh, fuck, that is why I found an angel feather when the last stone was taken from us! That makes so much sense now! Thank goodness, that shit was bothering me so much!" He stilled his words at the increasing static filling the air. He first threw a questioning gesture to Al, but at the slight head shake from him, there was only one other possible culprit.

"Babe" called Lucifer as he saw the antler starting to grow, shadows expanding and licking the wall just behind their source.

Two green dials stared at him.

"Are you going to tell me that you are okay with that?" said the man slowly, cracking his neck to a side. "If those worthless thoughtless parasites intervened, they were the ones to trap us in that nightmare."

Lucifer saw the confusion across the face of his double. He had appeared riht after everything had already happened and he only knew about the illusion part. They never mentioned anything about what they truly saw. Alastor haven't told him anything about what he saw either. Probably to wait until a later time to bring up or just never do it at all. Lucifer would have been fine pretending it never happened either.

"I know" said, swallowing down the sting of betrayal that somehow he could still percieve.

One that made absolutely no sense at all. Why would they care at all about what he felt after he felt, now that they were in opposite sides? And yet, there it was, and it was heavy, bringing up again the memories attached to that spell. The look of utter disgust in Alastor's face didn't stopped being engraved on his mind just because now he knew it was all a fabrication. There were many nightmares that just refused to go even if he turned on the light, that chased him like another curse.

He jolted when Alastor's hand cupped his cheek. His smile was still stretched out beyond what was humanly conceivable. The hand against his skin was bigger with long, dangerous claws. There was no discernible expression on the face of the monster, and yet, the familiarity of it was enough.

"I am not okay" said, letting his forehead to hit the enlongated skeletical chest in front of him. "I don't like any of this either."

After a long rumbling, the long bone like arms wrapped around him. The static buzzing started to die down a little, but it remained there, hanging from the air even if it wasn't expanding.

"They tortured us" groaned Alastor. "They trapped us and tortured us."

"I know" Lucifer lifted his hands to bring him down and nuzzle his face, wanting to pretend it wasn't tears what was running down his cheeks. "I know. I am so sorry, babe."

"I am not" said Alastor, his voice lingering just on top of his head. "If they come close to us again, I will kill them, Lucifer."