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noladyme · 3 years

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La Cuervo - Chapter 20

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on, on Mayans M.C., are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambigous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

20.

The next morning, Nina was looking out the window, at a green truck that had just pulled up by the curb. “I think it’s him!”. “You’re really excited, huh, ma'…?”, Angel chuckled at her. Nina turned to look at him, and nodded enthusiastically. “Do you think he’d like some coffee? We should make him some coffee…”, she said. “Ooh! Maybe some cheese! Go to the store an get some. Hurry!”. Angel came up behind Nina, and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her away from the window. “He’s not royalty”, he said. “To me, he’s pretty fucking close right now!”, Nina retorted. “I can’t wait until every one of those little assholes are dead and gone!”. Angel laughingly pressed a kiss to her temple, and went to open up for the exterminator. Nina felt a sudden urge to straighten her hair, and brush invisible lint of her clothes, before he came through the door.

As Angel showed the exterminator around the house, Nina followed close behind; adding to the conversation whenever it made sense – and sometimes even when it didn’t. She realized she was beginning to go stir-crazy from only spending time at either the clubhouse or Angel’s house; and she hadn’t talked to a person that didn’t have anything to do with the Mayans in days. Before that, she’d been kept under strict surveillance by SAMCRO, who were worried she’d hurt herself; and even before that, it had been the first lockdown at the scrapyard.

Crouched on the kitchen floor, and looking under the sink, the exterminator looked up at them, and sighed. “Yup. Roaches”, he said. “Is this a rental or do you own the house?”. “I’m the owner”, Angel muttered. Nina realized she hadn’t known either until now. The thought of having a stable home for a potential future family made her heart skip a beat – in spite of the roaches. “Too bad… You could charge the owner otherwise”, the exterminator. “That reminds me of a joke! A man walks in to an insect shop, and asks for a box full of roaches. The man behind the counter asks the costumer what he needs it for. Well, I’m moving, and the owner of my apartment told me to leave the place as I’d found it!”. He laughed loudly at his own joke, and Nina bit her lip to keep from grinning; while Angel simply raised a brow. The exterminator looked at Nina. “You liked that, huh…? Listen to this one: My girlfriend stepped on a butterfly the other day, so I told her; No butter for a week! Then she saw a cockroach, and stomped on that as well. I told her; Nice try!”. He roared with laughter, and Nina snorted out a snigger.

Angel went to stand half way in front of Nina, and looked at the exterminator. “What’s this gonna cost me?”, he grunted. “No price on peace of mind, right?”, the exterminator said, before catching on to Angel’s glum expression. “250 $... If you take care of the clean-up yourself, I’ll cut it down to an even deuce”. Nina winced at the thought of having to clean up an unspecified amount of dead bugs, and Angel sighed. “Just take care of it”, he muttered. “Will do. But I’ll need you to clear out of here for the rest of the day. And open the windows when you get home”. Angel grunted in confirmation, and took Nina’s hand; pulling her with him. She hardly had a chance to grab her borrowed helmet, before he dragged her out of the front door.

Once out by the bike, Nina stopped dead in her tracks. The weather was beautiful, and perfect for a day at the park, or a ride anywhere other than what at the moment felt like the suffocating closedness of the clubhouse. She looked deep into Angel’s darker than usual eyes. “Take me out for breakfast…”, she said. “Querida, you know how it is. We shouldn’t even be out in the open like this", Angel said.

“But I’m going crazy!”, Nina pleaded. “I only ever see you, or the people in the clubhouse… I feel like I’m under house arrest, even though you keep telling me I did nothing wrong". Angel got on his bike, and shook his head. “We’ll go out when all this is over", he said. “And when is that? You haven’t found the snitch yet; and even if you do, it’s just a matter of time before Palo realizes I’m still alive". Nina realized her voice was turning whiny. “I wanna go somewhere… see other people…”. “Like last time?”, Angel snapped back, taking her by surprise. “When you fucking left me, with nothing but a bullshit excuse?”.

Nina felt like she’d been slapped in the face. “Angel… You think I want to leave?”. “You did once already”, Angel said. “And just now, you were flirting with the guy who came to nuke the cockroaches, that’s made you hate my house”. “I don’t hate your house…”, Nina said, and scowled at him. “And I wasn’tflirting!”. “We’re not doing this now. Get on", Angel grunted, and started the engine. “Angel…!”. “Get on the fucking bike, Nina!”. “No! Fuck you!”, Nina growled, and began walking down the sidewalk, in the direction she thought might lead to a bus-stop.

She was so angry, she hardly heard Angel drive after her; and only just noticed him, once he was coasting slowly next to her. “Are you gonna walk to the yard?”, he said. “No. I’m gonna take a bus”, she retorted. “With what money?”. Nina halted. “I’ll flirt with the driver. Apparently, I flirt with strangers!”, she hissed. “I’m sorry…?”, Angel said. “Is that a question?”. She looked at him with rageful eyes, and he stopped the bike; getting off to walk up to her. “You have girls all over you, all the time, and I never complain. I’m friendly with one person, and you flip out!”. “You laughed at his sex-joke!”, Angel exclaimed. “Creeper was making dirty jokes all night, last night. I laughed at them”, Nina sneered. “You didn’t even blink!”. “Creep is a brother”. “So, I’m allowed to talk to patches; but with everyone else, I’m supposed to pretend they don’t exist?”, Nina asked. “With the club, it’s different. I trust them not to…”.

Nina scoffed at him, and rolled her eyes; before continuing to stomp down the street. Angel ran up behind her, and grabbed her arm. “I’m sorry…”, he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have said that shit”. “You don’t trust me; that’s the problem”, Nina said. “Yes, I trust you. I’m just… I already lost you once. I can’t do that again”. Angel’s eyes were sincere, and Nina fought the urge to take him into her arms. She was still angry. “I wanna protect you… And maybe I’m trying to protect myself”. Nina sighed. “I’m not leaving you again… But I have to see more than the inside of your house and the scrapyard”. “I know”, Angel said, and cupped her face. “Just, please… Let’s finish this shit with Palo, and I’ll take you wherever you want, ok?”. Nina frowned at him for a moment longer. “Don’t accuse me of stuff like you did just now… That’s not ok”. “I won’t. I’m sorry”, Angel said. “Please get on the bike. We need to get you to the yard, where you’re…”. “Safe… yeah. Whatever”, Nina muttered; put on her helmet, and got on the bike, after Angel had saddled up.

They drove to the scrapyard in silence.

---

Once at the clubhouse, the tension between them had lifted slightly, but Nina was still feeling peeved at Angel. He managed to steal a short kiss from her; but frowned, when she didn’t reciprocate his hug with more than a pat on the back.

Coco and Gilly came over, with rushed expressions. “We got a load of meds for the doc, but border control is hovering around the flower shop”, Gilly said. “East tunnel?”, Angel said. “West”, Coco said. “It’s further, but safer”. Angel nodded, and gave Nina a final look, before going over to get on his bike with the others. Nina waved at them as they drove off. She felt bad about how she’d left it with Angel, but it was hard to just get over being reminded of what she’d done to him. Mostly, she was angry with herself. Maybe there had been a different way to deal with the situation with Danielle those weeks back; but at the time she hadn’t known how to.

Trying to take her mind of it – she couldn’t do anything about it at the moment, anyway – she went into the clubhouse to start work. EZ was waiting with coffee and burritos, and they spent a little while having breakfast; while Nina retold the exterminator’s bad jokes. “He was flirting with you!”, EZ said. “How did Angel take that? Is he still alive?”. “Angel?”. “No, the exterminator!”, EZ chuckled. “Yeah… Though, I have a feeling he’s gonna have to watch his back for a while”.

Bishop, Taza and Hank came out of templo, and the prospect got to his feet. “We’re meeting with El Padrino”, Bishop said. “Business”. “Where’s Huey, Louie and Dewey?”, Hank asked. “They got a hold of some meds for the doc down south”, EZ said. “They’re using the west tunnel”. Hank nodded in approval. “Riz and Creeper are rat-hunting”, Taza said. “With their dicks…”, Bishop grunted. The men all sniggered. “Do you need me with you?”, EZ asked. “No. Stay here and Nina-sit”, Bishop replied. Nina rolled her eyes. “Sorry, mija. You know how it is. Palo is supposed to come tomorrow, but we don’t know if he changes his mind, and shows up early”. “You have your gun?”, Hank asked. Nina pulled out the .38 from her waistband. “Always”, she said. “Good”, Bishop said. “Prospect, go take care of that load of iron with Chucky. Nina, call him if anything comes up”. Nina and EZ both nodded, and the Mayans left the clubhouse. EZ went to clear up the table, but Nina halted him with a hand on his shoulder. “Go… scrap, or whatever it is you do. I’ve got this”. EZ nodded with a smile, and left her to it.

After clearing off their dishes, Nina went behind the bar, and put her gun by the sink, to wash them. She took her time, turning on some music to relax her tense mood. She hated to think something might happen to Angel while he was away, after how she’d more or less shrugged off his affectionate gestures, before he left. A cheery song came on, and Nina let herself sway to the music. Maybe she’d get a chance to dance with Angel at the party the day after, in spite of the psychopath bikers coming to kill her. They’d be ok. They had to be.

After a while, she went to wipe down the tables around the clubhouse; having to work a little more forcefully on the table the poker-game had been held at the night before. Stains from liquor and stray cigarette ashes had dried in, and she broke a nail trying to get one of the stickier stains. She cursed bellow her breath, and put her finger in her mouth, to relieve the pain a bit.

The door to the clubhouse opened, and Camille came in. “Hey!”, Nina smiled. “What’s up?”. Camille looked around the room, as if searching; before walking behind the bar. “Where is everyone?”, she asked. “Bish’ and the other tops are at some meeting; and the rest are out on some job down south”, Nina shrugged, and turned around to continue wiping down the table. “What about EZ?”, Camille said. “He’s around the yard somewhere. Bishop has him working on something”. “So, no one’s around?”. Nina looked confusedly at Camille. She looked almost relieved that they were alone; when usually she’d be annoyed there was no Mayans around to adore. “Yeah, we’re alone”, she muttered. “But seeing as you’re here, maybe you could help me with the party prep”. Camille chewed her lip. “Actually, I was hoping we could talk”. “Sure”, Nina shrugged. She dried her hands, and went to sit at one of the clean tables. “What’s up?”

Camille sat down across the table from her, and blew out a deep breath. “I’ve been keeping a secret from the club”, she said. Nina felt a shudder go through her. The situation reminded her too much of her confrontation with Daniella. “What’s that?”, she said. Camille took a long moment to gather herself, before looking meaningfully at her. “Before I came here, I used to go with the Vatos”, she said. “Oh”, Nina croaked. “Yeah…”, Camille muttered. “I met Sala while on a trip to Tijuana; and he took me to one of their parties… I ended up sticking around for a while; you know how it is”. “I guess…”. Nina didn’t like where this was going. “At first it was fine. I’d hang around, and take care of them…”. Camille shot Nina a look; making it clear what taking care of meant. “They offered me a permanent place with them, if I helped them out with a problem… Apparently, they wanted to expand into the states, but there was another MC blocking their way… So, they sent me up here to get whatever info I could get out of the Mayans; and for a while, that’s what I did”.

Nina cleared her throat, and tried to look calm; failing miserably. “Why are you telling me this?”, she asked. “You should know, I don’t have very good experiences with snitches”. It was difficult to avoid having an edge to her voice. “Because… I like you”, Camille said. “And I want you to understand why I’m doing this”. She put her hand behind her back, and pulled out a .38; which Nina instantly recognized as her own. She cursed internally for letting the gun out of her sight. Her eyes widened, and she fought the urge to run for the door. She wouldn’t make it anyway. Camille let the hand holding the gun rest on the table; the barrel pointing towards Nina. “Camille… What is this?”.

“The night of the party, I went into the trailer with Creeper… I saw your inhaler, and I figured out who you were. Sala had told me to look out for someone like you”, Camille said. “I was going to tell him, but then Creeper started talking about taking me out to the ocean for a couple of days, and I didn’t want to miss the chance of becoming his; and being a part of the family here... The Mayans are so different than Vatos Malditos… It’s not just drugs, and guns and fighting. They’re like a club should be. They care about their own… VM never cared about me, not really”. There was true pain in Camille’s eyes. “So, I went to talk to Sala, and tell him I was done. I wanted to belong to the Mayans… He told me it was fine, and that he’d take me to get the last of my money… But in stead, they beat the shit out of me, and… The Vatos aren’t as nice to women as the Mayans are. They dropped me in that tunnel, for the club to find me; said that if the Mayans wanted me, they could have me…”. Nina could read on Camille’s face what had happened the night she was beat, and she felt bile rise in her throat. “Camille… I’m sorry that happened to you…”, she tried. “Don’t pity me”, Camille hissed, and clenched her hand around the handle of the gun. “After all that, after they beat and raped me to try to get me to talk, I was still loyal to the MC here! I didn’t say a word... You are the Mayans favorite pet, and I saved your ass; but I couldn’t even tell anyone about how faithful I’d been, because I’d still be punished for being a snitch.”.

Nina swallowed thickly. “But you did talk to them again… didn’t you…?”, she said quietly. Camille nodded. “People around here love you. Everyone lights up when you enter the room, and I want that as well... You left, and I thought that when you went away, I’d have a chance to take over your job; but Dani was here, and she was all over the gig… I didn’t stand a chance”. “So you told the Vatos she was me…”, Nina croaked. “I was there the night Angel made her tell him what she knew. But even after trying to blackmail him into giving her another chance, the club was going to let her stick around; I just knew it. So, when Angel calmed down, and went to take her home… I called Sala. I told them the woman they wanted was with him, and where they were headed”, Camille said. “They killed her… You killed her, Camille”. Nina felt her whole body shaking. “Yeah… With both you and her gone, maybe the Mayans would finally let me be a part of the family”, she said. “But you came back, and you make it so fuckingdifficult to live up to the standards you set”.

They sat for a long moment in silence. Nina was terrified to move even a muscle. “What are you going to do now?”, she asked, convinced she already knew the answer. Camille looked at her with sad eyes. “You weren’t supposed to come back”, she said. “I just want to be a part of something, but with you around, there’s no room for me”. “That’s not true… You belong here as much as I do”, Nina said. “Bullshit…! I tried everything; serving their favorite beers; laughing at their jokes; giving them a good time in bed… They still see me as a nobody. But you… you’re like this shining, perfect person to them; and I can’t live up to that… The only chance I stand of having a home here, is if you’re not around. I’m not enough as me; so, I’m going to become you”. Camille pulled the hammer of the gun, and took a deep breath. “I’m gonna tell them the Vatos came by, and took you out… I’ll take care of them while they heal. They’ll see me as the new Nina”. Camille raised the gun, and smiled sadly. “I’m sorry…”.

Nina felt pure adrenaline flow through her veins. She put her hands under the edge of the table, and flipped it over; making Camille fall backwards, and the bullet hit the ceiling. Running for the door, another shot was heard, and she felt a burning pain in her leg; and screamed out in agony. Crawling behind the bar for cover, she heard Camille scramble to chase after her. “Don’t make this so fucking difficult”, the red-head yelled. Nina got to her feet, and grabbed a stray bottle of scotch; throwing it at Camille. Camille ducked just in time for the bottle to narrowly miss her head; giving Nina time to jump at her, and grab her wrist, to force the gun to point away, before Camille could pull the trigger again. They wrestled for the gun for a few seconds, before falling to the floor; limbs tangled. Camille was growling in anger, and as Nina got on top of her, she grabbed her arm, and bit down on her skin; drawing blood. Nina cried out, and pulled back; making Camille able to get on top of her. Nina kept her hold on Camille’s wrist, trying to force her to drop the gun, but Camille was like a wild woman; not letting go of her weapon. Once again pointing the .38 at Nina; she was startled at the door to the clubhouse slamming open. Nina twisted her wrist, when Camille pulled the trigger again.

The next three seconds felt like years to Nina. Red mist clouded her vision, as Camille’s blood and brain matter rained down over her. Something heavy held her down, and she realized it was her assailant’s body, slumped on top of her. The weight was pulled off her, and someone yelled her name repeatedly. She didn’t reply. Even opening her mouth a little, she felt the metallic taste of blood in her mouth. She could hardly even breathe, though not for need of her inhaler. It just felt like there wasn’t any air to be had. Turning her head, she looked at Camille. It was that dark alley all over again. The bullet hole in Camille’s head, and her dead body on the floor; laying just as Gael had lain there.

A hand on her wounded leg made her jolt in pain, and she finally met EZ’s startled eyes. “Nina…! Are you ok?”, he said. Nina simply let out a short breath; unable to reply. When she didn’t answer, he pulled out his phone. “Angel! Get back to the clubhouse now. Camille is dead, and Nina’s been shot…”.

---

She sat on the floor, with her back against the bar. A paramedic was shining a flashlight into her eyes, and trying to get her to talk; but she had nothing to say. She’d not spoken a word to anyone, not even shed a tear.

EZ’s second phone call had been to Bishop; and he, Hank and Taza had arrived moments later. They all tried to get her to move away from Camille and the pool of blood she was sitting in, but she’d refused; recoiling from anyone trying to touch her. She’d sat there, looking at the dead woman on the floor, while Taza called 911.

The Mayans were pacing the floor, and giving statements to the cops; and all giving her worried looks. “Miss? Do you think you can tell me what happened here?”, a police officer asked. He crouched down in front of her, while the paramedic moved down to take a look at her leg. Her calf was soaring with pain, but Nina didn’t move a muscle. “Miss Teller?”, the officer tried again. “This is a serious situation. A woman is dead!”. “Back off her!”, Bishop growled. “You see the gun in the dead bitch’s hand. It’s clear what happened”. “You need to relax, sir”, the officer said warningly.

A roar of bikes was heard from outside, and Nina recognized the sound of one of the engines. It felt like there was finally a little bit of air to be had, and she took a gasping breath. “Where the fuck is she?”, Angel roared, before slamming the door open. He took one look at the scene, and ran over; dropping to his knees next to Nina. “Get off her!”, he growled at the police officer. “Watch it, son…”, the officer sneered. “She won’t move”, the paramedic muttered. “We need to get her to the hospital”. “Just let me talk to her”, Angel said. The officer got up, and backed away; keeping wary eyes on him and Coco and Gilly, who had come in after him. Both of them cursed bellow their breaths as they took in the scene.

Angel cupped Nina’s face, and looked at her with worried eyes. “Nina? Look at me, please…”. He stroked her temples with his thumbs, and Nina met his gaze. “Angel…”, she almost whispered. “I’m here, querida”, he said, trying for a soft smile. Nina slumped against him, and he gently wrapped his arms around her; letting her melt into him. “She… I can’t…”, she croaked. It was as if a dam inside her exploded, and tears came streaming out of her eyes. She sobbed violently, and clutched her hands around his arm. “I got you… I’m here”, Angel said, and pressed his lips to the top of her head. Everything surfaced in Nina’s head – overwhelming her with emotions. Her fight with Angel; how she’d not said goodbye properly; how she could have died without telling him again how much she loved him. She looked at the dead body on the floor. The coroner was crouched over it, taking pictures, and swabbing for gun residue on the hand. Camille’s eyes were still open, and it felt like she was staring straight in to Nina’s soul. Nina closed her eyes, turned away, and wailed against Angel’s chest; while he continuously stroked her hair, and tried to wipe away the unstoppable rivers of tears coming from her eyes.

“Sir, we have to move her… I can’t treat her here”, the paramedic said. Angel nodded, and slipped his arms under Nina’s body; lifting her up. He carried her out of the clubhouse, and over to the waiting ambulance, where they’d set up a gurney. Nina was shaking and crying as he set her down on it. “Let’s get you out of here”, the paramedic said. Nina shot Angel a panicked look. “Don’t let them take me away”, she cried. Angel looked at the paramedic. “I’m going with her”. “Only family can…”, the paramedic tried. “He is family", EZ said. He and Bishop had followed close behind Angel. “All of us are", the president grunted. Angel looked ready to kill anyone who tried to keep him from Nina’s side, and the paramedic sighed. “Alright. Let’s go", he said, and together, they pushed the gurney inside the ambulance. Angel jumped in to take the seat by Nina’s head, and took her hand.

The paramedic went to share a few words with the police officer, and left them alone in the ambulance “Angel…”, Nina whimpered. “Shh… you’re safe”, he whispered, and stroked her cheek. “It’s over”. “No…”, Nina whispered. “Camille was the snitch”. Angel’s eyes widened, and he stared at the body bag the coroner was rolling out of the clubhouse, before giving Bishop a hard look. “Rat…!”, he growled.

The last thing Nina saw before the paramedic closed the doors to the ambulance, was Bishop rushing back towards the clubhouse, his phone in hand.

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#angel reyes #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x oc #mayans mc #mayans mc fic #ez reyes #coco cruz

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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On The Ground (Rosénali) - Moonshot

A/N: So… Guess who is back after a year of not writing fics? Yours truly! What can I say? Rosénali is that powerful of a ship. As always, I hope eveyone enjoys this fic. Feel free to let me know what you think… Who knows, there might be a follow up to this little fluff in the future! Little side note: this is a lesbian au where most of the s13/s12 girls appearing are cis-female, however Mik is still a trans man in the fic.

Summary: The diner girl!Denali x street singer!Rosé AU based on Blackpink’s Rosé’s solo music that nobody asked for!

ao3 link https://archiveofourown.org/works/30267687

Denali stared at the round clock above the entrance of the diner.

4:57 PM.

Three more minutes until her shift was over.

Three more minutes until the girl who had been a fixed character in her dreams would come from around the corner, set up her guitar, greet the passersby before starting her set for the evening like she did every Wednesday.

“So, gorge, are you going to ask the champagne girl out today, or are you just going to keep on creepily staring at her from afar?”, her coworker, Kade - or as everyone called him, Mik - appeared next to her with an empty tray.

“Her name is Rosé, not champagne girl!”, Denali rebutted, “and also, for the record, I don’t just… stare. I just happen to like appreciating her set without bothering her! It’s not like she was flirting with me that one time”.

“Did I just hear our Nali denying her crush on that pink-haired singer, again?”, Olivia, who was busy running the cash register, chimed in.

“Girl, I think we should start betting against her and maybe we’ll make more money than what they can pay us here!”, Mik joked as he washed some of the dishes in the sink.

The black-haired girl rolled her eyes, ignoring her two best friends and focusing on the performer’s much-anticipated arrival.

Denali didn’t believe in love at first sight but after the first time Rosé and her guitar had shown up on the other side of the road from Tamisha’s Diner, she couldn’t think about anything else.

There was just something about the other girl that had the Alaskan girl enamored.

The first - and so far only - time she had talked to Rosé was out of necessity as the other girl and who she assumed were her two best friends - the diner girls had dubbed them ‘Pastel Powerpuff girls’ - had decided to dine in just as Denali’s shift at the register had started.

“Hi! Did you enjoy our diner?”, the skater had put on her best smile, not quite able to meet the gaze of the taller girl as she typed out the receipt.

“Oh, sure, the skating gig is cute, the food’s great, and the service… isn’t too bad either,” Denali could see from the corner of her eye the smirk on the pink-haired girl.

“Rosie! Quit flirting with every cute girl that breathes and hurry up or Jan and I are leaving you here, the Uber is going to be here in 2 minutes!”, the blue-haired girl went on with the other girl in the friend group while ‘Rosie’ rolled her eyes at them.

“Sorry about Lagoona, she has the tact of an elephant on rollerskates,” the taller girl joked.

“O-Oh, no problem. So, your total is 20,04$, will you be paying in cash or card? Also, are you splitting the bill?”

“Since dumb and dumber over there already left, I’ll just pay everything with my card,” she replied taking out her purse and taking out her credit card, “here you go, angel”.

Denali tried her best not to blush at the sudden pet name, maintaining her on-the-clock persona as she brought out the card reader. She quickly finished up the operation and handed the pink-haired girl her card back with the receipt, “I just need a quick signature here and you’re free to go to your friends”.

‘Rosie’ scribbled down her signature - she learned her actual name was Rosé, classy yet slightly worrying - and left a tip for her.

A 10$ tip for her.

“Gorge, she left you a 10$ tip, she was basically asking for your hand in marriage”, Mik reminded her, his eyes darting around the half-empty diner.

He nodded his head to his left where Denali saw another one of her co-workers sharing a milkshake with her girlfriend, giggling like teenagers, “I’m just saying. If Utica managed to end up dating that self-proclaimed ebony enchantress over there, you got a chance with wine girl”, he ended with his trademark L.A vocal fry.

Denali knew Mik had a point, but as she was about to reply, she heard the familiar sound of a guitar starting a new song. Her eyes glanced back at the clock.

5:14 PM

Damn, she had missed the beginning of the set.

The Alaskan girl didn’t lose any more time as she clocked out, skates still on her feet as she zoomed out of the diner.

“Aaaaand she’s gone!”, Olivia commented, turning her head to Mik, “Do you think this time is the good one?”

“Well, if she doesn’t finally go after her, I might as well go after her myself!”

Denali reached the usual crowd that had already formed around Rosé, trying her best to blend in and not be seen by the singer while still getting a good view of the set.

“Well, aren’t you guys a lovely crowd!”, the pink-haired singer smiled as she got ready for the next song, “I’ve got one last song for today and this is going to be the first time I’ll be performing it, so, don’t hate it too much!”, she chuckled as she checked her guitar before turning her head back to the mic stand, “This is On The Ground, I’m Rosé and I hope you’ve enjoyed the set! Feel free to drop your tips in the guitar case!”

Denali couldn’t take her eyes off Rosé when she heard the guitar’s first chord paired with the honey-like vocals.

My life’s been magic seems fantastic

I used to have a hole

in the wall with a mattress

It’s funny when you want it

Suddenly you have it

You find out that your gold’s just plastic

The black-haired girl quickly pulled out her phone, opened her voice memo app, and hit record. She wanted to treasure the magic Rosé’s voice brought.

What she failed to notice while she was so into the song was a pair of hazel eyes settling on her as the song reached its climax.

A couple of days later, Denali had just finished with her teaching job at the local ice rink when she spotted Olivia on the railings.

“The suspicious lack of a certain pink-haired girl makes me think that you still haven’t asked her out” she heard the younger girl say as she skated her way to her.

“You’ll never let it go, won’t you, Liv?”

“Not when I see that you like her and, from what I’ve seen, she is at least interested in you. Mik tried to ask her out yesterday after your shift was over,” the other girl replied.

Denali furrowed her brows, “Wait, he was serious about asking her out? I thought he was just joking!”

“If you don’t act on your cute pink crush, you can’t expect everyone else to stop for you,” Olivia reasoned, “if it’s of any help, Mik did say that, and I quote ‘she didn’t want a piece of this fine ass’”, she finished, air quoting their co-worker.

“To be honest, the dude’s barely got an ass compared to me,” Denali muttered, but her best friend managed to catch it.

“Well, as Symone said, you do have a fat ass,” Olivia commented, causing both of them to laugh out loud.

She continued, “Point still stands though, you gotta do something or you might just end up regretting not doing anything about it”.

The dark-haired girl sighed, “I know, I’m just… scared to get hurt because she seems so cool and unreachable, and I’m just so… me?”, she confessed, resting her arms on the rails.

“Give it a chance, Nali,” Olivia replied, laying her hand on the skater’s arm and giving it a gentle squeeze, “And just in case, if she fucks you over, we’ll just unleash Kandy on her!”, she added, making Denali chuckle.

“Girl, if she knew you said that…”

“She would do absolutely nothing because she’s too busy chasing after that Joey guy”, she didn’t miss a beat with her reply, giving her a knowing look, “Almost forgot to ask, are you coming later to the club with the others?”

Denali shook her head, “No, sorry. I don’t feel like clubbing today, I’ll just skate a bit more and then go home to watch some Netflix”.

Olivia shrugged her shoulders, “You do you, girl. But think about what I said, okay?”

She gave her best friend a small smile, “Thanks, Liv. See you at work?”

The younger girl nodded and left Denali to her thought as she exited the room. The black-haired skater turned her head back to the rink, noticing that only a few people were left on the ice.

She took a deep breath, putting her earbuds back in and looking through her phone to decide on what song to use for her last routine of the day. Her eyes fell on the voice memo app, immediately reminding herself of the recording she had taken just a few days prior. She hadn’t even listened to it since she had recorded it.

It wasn’t a clean recording, she could hear the sounds of the city and the people around her, but she closed her eyes and focused on Rosé’s voice, letting it guide her.

The music fully took her over as she performed her usual stunts.

I’m way up in the clouds

And they say I’ve made it now

But I figured it out

Everything I need is on the ground

She found herself in the center of the rink, the bridge of the song was blasting in her ears. She smiled to herself as she started to spin, gradually picking up speed while Rosé’s high notes were all she could focus on.

Just drove by your house

So far from you now

But I figured it out

Everything I need is on the

Everything I need is on the ground

The recording stopped abruptly, she remembered how she had to bolt away, almost missing her bus home.

Denali could hear her heavy breathing, suddenly aware again that she wasn’t alone. But she had made up her mind.

She was going to talk to Rosé the following Wednesday.

That Wednesday the diner was busier than usual, giving Denali barely a moment to think, let alone realize she was missing Rosé’s set outside.

She glanced at the clock.

5:26 PM

Shit.

She turned her head and looked outside the diner’s big windows and saw that the pink-haired girl was starting to gather her things.

“Miss Iman just left, go to her! We’ll cover for you and we are not letting you get back in unless you got a date!”, Olivia said quietly enough for just her to hear.

Denali couldn’t help the grin spreading across her face. She grabbed some of the tips that she had made before she bolted outside, faintly hearing the cheering of her friends.

As she reached Rosé on the other side of the road, the singer’s back was facing her, she didn’t seem to have noticed Denali yet.

The black-haired girl took a deep breath, just like she had done on the ice rink, and let the tips fall into the still open guitar case.

The noise of falling change was what made Rosé turn around, a surprised look on her face as she registered Denali’s face.

“Denali?”

Gosh, she could hear the other girl say her name all day.

Wait.

“How do you know my name?”, Denali asked slightly confused.

Rosé didn’t reply but simply pointed at the waitress’s chest.

Oh, right. The nameplate on her uniform.

“That and also I tend to remember a pretty face when I see one,” she added, now her attention fully on the shorter girl.

“Oh, yeah, right”, she fidgeted awkwardly, not knowing where to look, “Uhm, I just wanted to say that you have a really beautiful voice. You can consider me your first fan when you make it big”.

Rosé smiled at her and Denali couldn’t help but notice how beautiful of a smile she had.

The singer turned back to her stuff, shuffling things around and leaving the brunette to her thoughts. She wanted to ask the taller girl out but felt all her courage leave her body.

Way to go, Nali.

“Well, Uhm, I think I should-”, she started but she was stopped by the pink-haired girl, who had finished packing everything up.

“Here, this is for you”.

It was a jewel case cd, a picture of Rosé in a very 80s inspired attire on the cover with pink marker writing across the front.

‘To Denali

My first (and hopefully not last) fan

Rosé xo’

It was signed with a small rose doodle next to Rosé’s name and, much to Denali’s surprise, a phone number along with the phrase ‘put it to good use’.

She looked up to find the other girl staring at her, her guitar case strapped on her back. She gave her a wink and started walking towards the subway.

Denali stood there for what felt like forever as she watched Rosé disappear in between the crowd of people roaming the streets.

She looked back down at the cd, committing the number to memory. She turned around to look at the back, her eyes were drawn to the tracklist.

She smiled when she saw On The Ground.

Finally, she didn’t have to listen to a shitty phone recording to enjoy it.

“Wait, what? You had recorded it all secretly and shady, mama?”

Rosé’s laugh filled the room as Denali tried to hide her face on the other girl’s bare chest.

“You’re an ass! I just wanted to use it for one of my skating routines”, she muttered, causing her girlfriend to laugh even harder.

“I find it cute that I’m not even famous and my music has already been pirated!” she commented, “I’m already halfway there to stardom, baby girl,” she added, kissing the top of Denali’s head.

The shorter girl groaned as she hid the increasing blush on her cheeks, rolling her body so that she was on top of the pink-haired girl.

“Well, miss Rosé, is it pirating if it was for personal pleasure only?”, Denali teased, running her hands upwards on the naked skin, slowly lowering herself until her face was inches away from her girlfriend’s.

She felt Rosé’s hands take a firm hold of her behind, “Oh angel, I’ll show you personal pleasure,” the singer replied, eliminating the little space left between their lips as Denali brought her hands to cup the older girl’s face.

Rethinking about those lyrics Rosé had written months prior, Denali knew she was right, she did have everything she needed on the ground.

It was to be right there with Rosé.

#rpdr fanfiction #denali foxx #rosé #olivia lux #gottmik #rosnali #fluff #lesbian au #diner au #s13 #moonshot #submission

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bubbyleh · 4 years

Text

Good Things

angst w/ a happy ending cw for unethical science and trigger phrases word count: 8,569 (nice)

Dr. Coomer knows what he’s doing is very illegal and he could get in a lot of trouble. He does not work in Biological Research, and he has no clearance to be here, especially this late. But what else is he going to do, spend the night in his dorm room?

No way. Not since they agreed to go forward with the divorce. It’s stupid and dangerous, but hey, the worst thing he’s going to find is some half-disected cow or something.

And then he finds the tube.

He didn’t realize what it was at first, the back of it was metal and faced the door Coomer came in from. It was just a weird pillar in the middle of the room, he thought, until he found himself in front of it and realized. Suspended in a green liquid, lit by fluorescent lights inside and sleeping, there was a person. He’s wearing a medical gown, and there’s an oxygen mask and other monitoring equipment strapped to him.

“My goodness,” Coomer says without meaning to.

The person in the tube cracks an eye open, clearly having heard him and woken up. He glares at him before moving his hands in a manner that Coomer recognizes as sign language.

Too bad Coomer’s very rusty. Crap, he thinks he still has his old books somewhere. He waves and shrugs with an apologetic smile.

The tube person rolls his eyes, before exaggeratedly pointing at Coomer. Then, by making a hook with his left hand and a fist with his right, he makes the shape of a question mark.

Clearly this man can hear him, so Coomer clears his throat. “Well, I’m Dr. Harold Coomer,” he introduces himself. “I work in Waste Disposal. Who are you, then?”

The question catches the stranger off-guard. He looks around as if confused by who Coomer could be addressing, his dark hair swishing after him. When he turns back, he points to the base of the tube, where Coomer notices for the first time the placard at the bottom.

BU-33Y

“Huh,” Coomer remarks, squinting at the name slightly. “So you’re Bubby, then?”

He facepalms, but the name sticks.

☆*☆

[B is the department. U is the project designation.]

Coomer nods along as Bubby explains his name. He’d been surprised when Coomer returned a week after their first encounter, doubly so when he could actually understand the signs he used. Bubby still seemed apprehensive to speak with Coomer, but he didn’t tell him to leave.

[33 is my number, Y refers to the batch I come from.]

Bubby had told him a lot about himself, or rather, the project he originates from. The Ultimate Lifeform, Black Mesa’s attempt to make a perfect scientist. Incredibly intelligent, superhuman abilities, and government property. Eventually his testing is going to involve him working among other scientists, a prospect Coomer is thrilled by.

“Batch?” Coomer questions. He feels somewhat awkward, sitting in front of the tube. Bubby doesn’t seem to mind, though.

[Same genetic code,] Bubby winces at the thought. [My brothers, I guess. I’m the youngest.]

“Well, where are the other thirty-two, then?” Coomer asks. “And all the other batches?”

Bubby looks past Coomer, deeper into Biological Research. [Gone. Some of them are around, kind of.] For the first time, Coomer notices fear on his companion’s face. [They were out too long. They died, or fell apart.] He kicks, legs swishing through the green tube goo.

“But you’re not going to, right?” Coomer has to know. He’s just met Bubby, so maybe his attachment is a little much, but this person is so smart, so witty, so intelligent! To think he could just… stop being, one day.

[No,] Bubby’s got a confident smirk on his face, but his hands are shaking. [They’re working to fix it. I’m gonna be out of here for good someday.]

☆*☆

Their meetings continue for months. Coomer doesn't bring up his impending divorce with Bubby, mostly because he doesn't want to think about it. It isn’t a crime to want to hold onto the one person who doesn't look at him with pity these days! Besides, Bubby always redirects conversation away from his own feelings, why the hell would he listen to Coomer’s?

Well, part of that assumption is challenged when Coomer finds Bubby in his tube, fidgeting with his fingers with a distant look in his eyes. He doesn’t even notice Coomer at first.

“Good evening, Bubby!” Coomer grins, putting on his best friendly face. Bubby startles, going rigid almost like a goat. “Is something troubling you?”

Bubby shakes his head almost immediately, but seems to pause upon making eye contact with Coomer. He looks away as he signs, [Actually, you might be able to help me with this.]

“Ah, what do you need?” Coomer takes a seat in front of the tube, as he often does when he comes to see Bubby. He waits patiently while Bubby struggles to find his words.

[Do you remember what you told me last week?] Bubby starts, but after Coomer gives him a lost look, he adds, [About being a man.]

Oh, Coomer remembered! He’d been showing off the enhancements he’d received from the Cybernetics department, because while Bubby was familiar with their work, seeing it firsthand was a whole other thing entirely. Bubby was trying to downplay the fact that he was marvelling his Extendo-Arms™ when Coomer mentioned that they had done a few of his transition surgeries as well.

The look of pure confusion on Bubby’s face would be something Coomer always cherished. He gave him a brief explanation on gender identity, sadly not touching on the more intricate details due to time restraints. But Bubby had gotten the gist of it! And now he was asking to know more? It was a scenario Coomer could only dream of.

“Of course I remember!” Coomer exclaims. “Would you like me to elaborate on some of the points I made? I know I had to leave before we could get into my own lived experience, but I hope the general descriptions were adequate!”

[I’ve been thinking about it,] Bubby is obviously uncomfortable. [I’m not a man. Or a woman.]

Well that’s certainly not what Coomer was expecting, but that’s not a bad thing! Finally, a friend who also isn’t cis! He shakes his fists up and down in excitement, before rushing forward to scoop Bubby up in a big hug.

Sadly, there is still a glass wall between them. Coomer slams his face right into it.

Coomer hears Bubby laugh for the first time. Even though it’s muffled by the oxygen mask and tube, not to mention sounding more like a witch’s cackle than something joyful, it’s still the most beautiful thing Coomer has ever heard.

☆*☆

For a few days, Coomer misses his meetings with Bubby. Although they weren't operating on any real schedule before, Coomer had made sure his visits were occurring most nights. But after the divorce was finalized, well… he needed some time by himself.

Bubby’s rapping their knuckles against the glass the second they see Coomer, clearly trying to get his attention. There are less wires connected to them than before, the vast collection reduced to only their oxygen mask.

“Hello Bubby!” Coomer greets apologetically. “I’m sorry for my absence recently, I had a bit of an issue…”

But Bubby clearly isn’t listening. They’re enthusiastic to the point of stimming, excitedly pointing at the large button on the other side of the room.

Coomer walks over to the button and inspects it. It’s been here all this time, yes, but he’s never really thought much about what it does. “You want me to press this?” he clarifies.

Bubby nods, hands flapping so fast there’s no way they could stop to sign. They have that evil look in their eye again, the one that reminds Coomer how vibrant they are and makes his heart skip a beat. He presses the button without hesitation.

Immediately, the liquid in the tube begins to drain, and Coomer worries for a moment that this is going to kill Bubby. But the way they’re lightly kicking against the tube wall, anxious and thrilled beyond measure, tells Coomer that this is exactly what they wanted.

Finally, the tube water is gone, and the glass drops. Bubby takes one step forward, then slips in some of the liquid left at the bottom.

“FUCK!” they yell. It’s the first word Coomer ever hears them say.

“Oh dear, Bubby!” Coomer’s at their side in an instant, helping them sit back up. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Bubby shoos away Coomer’s helpful hands. Their voice is almost exactly what Coomer expected, pointed and snarky. They shoot a glare at him. “Where the hell have you been? I got the all clear that I’m not going to fall apart yesterday.”

Coomer winces, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. Bubby doesn’t even know he was married, let alone in the middle of a bitter divorce up until recently.

“I, um,” he stammers. “I had something happen?”

Bubby rolls their eyes. “No shit.” They take Coomer’s hand. “Can you grab my glasses for me? You’re about to watch me burn shit.”

Coomer tries to ignore the burning feeling in his face and chest when he looks at their hands, instead focusing on the burning feeling that comes from standing way too close to Bubby’s fire.

☆*☆

Things change very quickly after that. Bubby gets their neural implants put in—which they’re rightfully pissy about—but they’re moving forward. After all, limiting the government secrets you can tell is a sign that you’ll soon be around people who don’t know them. Besides, Coomer already knows anything they would have told him without the barrier, so they’ll always have him around!

Just mentioning that halts Bubby’s thrashing against the metal walls and medical equipment. Their hands still, their expression softens, and they tilt their head slightly, as if in wonder of the man in front of them.

Coomer feels seen in a way he never has before.

☆*☆

They wait a few days after Bubby’s “release into the wild” (as Coomer calls it) before visiting with each other again. Give Bubby a few days at work and the plausible deniability that he met Coomer during that time. But now that time is up, and Coomer’s excited to hear how Chemical Engineering has been treating his friend!

His friend. Coomer has long since accepted he has a bit of a crush on Bubby, which is kind of embarrassing to admit as he’s rapidly approaching forty years old. When you constantly catch yourself thinking about running your hand through your friend’s hair, though, or wondering what it would be like to kiss him with all those sharp teeth… it’s obvious at that point.

In stark contrast from before, Bubby visits Coomer’s dorm room. He insists that his own is nowhere near ready to receive guests in, and he’d much rather see what a lived-in space should look like. Coomer doesn’t mention he only got downgraded to this singles’ dorm a month ago.

The second he steps in, while Coomer tries to avoid thinking about how good he looks in actual clothes, Bubby starts complaining.

“What the fuck!? Why do you have a better dorm than me?!” Bubby gestures around him. “You’ve got, like, three different rooms here!”

“I’ve been working for Black Mesa for almost twenty years, Bubby!” Coomer explains. “I have a bit of seniority over you.”

Bubby rolls his eyes. “Big deal, I’ve practically been working here for thirty-eight years! That’s more than you!” He crosses his arms and grumbles about favoritism.

Coomer puts all his energy into ignoring how adorable Bubby looks when he’s grumpy.

☆*☆

“Harold! What do you mean you’re divorced!?”

They’re sitting on the couch in Coomer’s dorm, Bubby clutching one of his throw pillows. It hurt to bring up, but Coomer figures that Bubby would have found out eventually. He really didn’t want them to hear about it from a colleague of theirs that was an acquaintance at best.

“Well, I am!” Coomer attempts to keep a tone of cheerfulness in his voice. “The proceedings started just before I met you, and everything’s been finalized for a few months now.”

Bubby stands, and Coomer’s afraid for a moment that they're about to start lecturing him on trust.

They point a finger at him. “You’re telling me you have an ex we could have been bashing this whole time?!”

☆*☆

Though it takes a while, Bubby finally relents and allows Coomer to come over to their dorm, and while it’s much smaller, he loves it more than his own. It’s cozy! The two of them have to sit on the bed to watch TV, since there isn’t enough room for a couch.

Which is exactly what they’re doing. Coomer has a lot of media he plans on catching Bubby up on, prioritizing his own favorites! But they are currently watching an action movie, which he knows they’ll both enjoy. Acts of heroism and explosions? It’s like the industry was made entirely for the two of them!

They’re sitting very close, Bubby practically leaning against him. Not that Coomer’s complaining, they’re practically a heater. And given how far underground they are, he’s taking any source of warmth he can get. The physical contact is also making him very flustered, and thus, more body heat!

A huge explosion rocks the screen, and Coomer laughs. “See, Bubby! I told you there would be something in here for you!”

“Huh?” Bubby mumbles and sits up. They’re clearly rubbing their eyes.

“Bubby, have you been asleep?” Coomer asks, already knowing the answer.

They blink, the fog clearly leaving their brain. “Oh,” Bubby says, as if realizing that’s what happened. “Yeah, so what? It’s my room.”

“You have company!”

Bubby squints at Coomer, before removing their glasses. “I don’t see any company.”

“Bubby! You can still hear me!”

“The world is just blurry shapes now! For all I know, I’m alone!”

Oh, well if someone’s going to be childish, then Coomer can play their game. Using Bubby’s reduced eyesight to his advantage, Coomer snatches their glasses from their hand. They gasp dramatically.

“Harold! How dare you!” Bubby attempts to swipe their glasses back, but it’s a little hard to do that when their hand-eye coordination is shot. Coomer holds the glasses above their heads, teasingly.

“What’s wrong, professor? Can’t find your glasses?” he grins, waggling the sight aids ever so mockingly.

Coomer was not expecting Bubby to tackle him to the bed. “It’s doctor, shut up!” they growl, reaching for his outstretched hand. “Give them back!”

He does his best to shove Bubby back, but since he’s not putting too much effort in, it’s no use. Finally, Bubby’s hand manages to find purchase on the glasses’ bridge. They yank their glasses back, shouting a triumphant “Aha!” as they do so.

Bubby returns their glasses to their rightful place, smirking with their shark-like teeth showing. “You thought you could-”

Coomer suddenly realizes how close their faces are to each other. And that Bubby’s practically got him pinned against the bed. His hand lingers on their stomach, halted in its effort to push Bubby away.

Bubby seems to as well, as they suddenly stop talking, their cheeks turning a bright red that Coomer’s sure matches his own. After the longest moment of stillness, they abruptly fall back, almost fearful.

“Fuck!” Bubby curls in on themself, gripping their temples with their hands. “That was- it was nothing!”

Coomer sits up, tentatively reaching a hand out. “Bubby…”

They slap his hand away. “Stop it, Harold!” Bubby’s tone is harsh, but Coomer can hear their voice cracking. “Just stop, okay?! It was nothing!” They’re practically about to pull their hair out of their head.

“Bubby!” Coomer grabs onto their wrists, bringing them between the two of them. He looks Bubby in the eye. “Calm down. Breathe with me, alright?”

Clearly biting down whatever they were going to say, Bubby nods as if it’s the only thing they can do. Slowly, Coomer sees the tension fall from their shoulders, their arms going slack. After a few rounds of breathing, Bubby gently draws their hands back, and Coomer lets them.

“Now, what’s the matter with you?” Coomer moves to sit beside Bubby. “And don’t you dare say it’s nothing, again.”

Bubby drops their head onto their knees. “I know you’re in love with me, Coomer. You’re like a puppy, it’s not hard to read you.”

Coomer sighs. This is a rejection, then? As a divorced man, Coomer should be used to this, but… he isn’t. Not from Bubby.

Bubby looks back up at him. “And I know what you want in a relationship, and it’s not me.”

Huh?

“Not you?” The concept is so absurd that Coomer’s sure he must not have heard them correctly.

“Actual person things!” Bubby gestures to the ceiling as they speak. “Like going to the surface, or living together, or going to nice restaurants!” They frown. “I can’t give you that.”

A beat passes while Coomer figures out how to respond to that.

“You know you’re wrong, right?”

Now it’s Bubby’s turn to look confused. “What?”

“While those things are nice, I don’t need any of them in a romantic relationship.” He takes Bubby’s hand. “I just need someone who’s nice to spend time with and is willing to put the effort in.”

Bubby’s face turns bright red again. “Oh,” they say, squeezing Coomer’s hand. “Well, I can do that.”

“Can you?” Coomer’s mostly joking, still riding the high of mutual romantic feelings, but Bubby takes it seriously.

“Of course I can!” They throw their arms around his shoulders, a stupid grin now spread across their face from cheek to cheek. “Just you wait, Harold, I’m going to romance the socks off of you!”

For the second time today, their faces are inches apart.

Bubby doesn’t back away this time. “I can kiss you, right?”

“Oh most definitely,” Coomer responds.

It turns out, kissing Bubby is everything Coomer had hoped it would be and more. Their lips are warm, and the feeling of them smiling into the kiss as they grip the back of his shirt, pulling him closer, is one he’ll never forget.

☆*☆

There are certain things you don’t notice about a person until you spend a night with them. After sharing a bed with Bubby a few times, Coomer comes to several realizations.

The first is that Bubby sleeps like a log. Seriously, Coomer would have expected them to be at least a little bit twitchy. But the second Bubby’s out, they aren’t moving again until the morning.

Which is difficult in combination with the second item: Bubby is a clinger. It’s cute to see someone who’s usually so standoffish be completely affectionate at night, but not so much when Coomer feels pins and needles in his arm and he’s physically incapable of moving it out from between the two of them without waking his partner.

And waking them up is a bad idea because of the third realization, which is that Bubby is not a morning person in the slightest. Coomer already had a sense of this from their first meeting, but Bubby absolutely HATES waking up for the day. They practically need to be lured to the lab with a trail of coffee mugs every morning.

But their annoying sleeping habits aside, Coomer thinks it’s worth it. After all, he gets to hold Bubby for a whole night! Listening to them breathing, running his hand through their hair (they’re starting to go gray), he has never felt more at peace.

☆*☆

Coomer finds Bubby waiting for him outside his dorm room, standing there with his arms crossed and tapping his foot rapidly. His scowl immediately melts into a smile the second he spots him.

“Well, hello there Bubby!” Coomer waves. “What are you doing here so early? I thought our departments let out at the same time.”

“Harold, you will not believe the day I’ve had.” Bubby places a hand on Coomer’s back, serving as both affection and a way to rush him through unlocking the door. “Some idiot almost blew up the entire lab!”

Coomer turns the key and opens the door. “Well that’s not good! What happened?”

Bubby brushes past him, plopping himself on the couch with great flourish. “The man was clearly ignoring proper lab safety! The whole experiment burst into flames while his back was turned!” He seems strangely satisfied as he speaks, a look Coomer would know anywhere. “We got the rest of the day off because of his arrogance.”

Taking a seat next to him, Coomer narrows his eyes at Bubby. “Darling, you didn’t.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Bubby raises his hands in the air, feigning innocence long enough that Coomer almost begins to feel bad. Then he gets that wicked grin on his face again. “I did, though. I spent the afternoon eating chips in my dorm, and it was a million times better than working for this hell facility.”

“Bubby! You were supposed to bring those chips here with you!” Coomer chides him, but in reality, he doesn’t care that much. He’s proud his wonderful partner fucked over the system just a bit.

Bubby stares at him blankly for a moment. “Oh yeah! I forgot about that.” He shrugs. “They were good, though.”

“I’m sure they were,” Coomer sighs, but his obvious smile shows no ill-will behind it.

☆*☆

Over the years, the folks over at Biological Research get a bit more lenient with Bubby. They’re finally able to see some of Black Mesa's surface facilities, which are mostly just a few upper-level labs. The only condition is that Bubby is not allowed to leave the property.

That’s fine for both of them, though. There’s a lot to do on the surface if you’ve never been there before, and they end up sitting in the sunshine together, talking about things they definitely would have talked about below-ground as well. Bubby seems to enjoy the sun on their skin, acting a lot like a lizard basking in a bright light.

“I see you’re having fun,” Coomer chuckles.

Bubby is laying flat on their back, and even though Coomer knows they’ll yell at him for letting them lay down in the dirt, right now he can’t bring himself to stop them.

“It’s so warm out, Harold!” Bubby exclaims, wearing the happiest grin ever. “You know I love the warm!”

When the sky begins to darken and the temperature cools, Bubby sits back up and scooches over to join Coomer against one of the rock outcroppings that litter Black Mesa. They stretch their arm out, subtly wrapping it around Coomer’s shoulders and leaning their head against his.

“You know I love you, Harold,” they whisper. Coomer has never seen them look so peaceful before.

Coomer beams, taking hold of Bubby’s free hand and kissing his partner at the same time. “Of course,” he replies. “And I love you.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes, watching the last of the sun’s rays dip below the horizon. Bubby’s gaze turns to the stars above them. Being out in the middle of nowhere, Black Mesa has very little light pollution. No matter how bright the stars may look, though, Coomer thinks there’s no way they can be brighter than Bubby’s eyes right now.

“They can’t program stuff like this into a person,” Bubby remarks, eyes still glued to the sky. “I’ve known about stars and love my whole life, but…” They falter, their expression becoming grim for the briefest of seconds. Then, they look back at Coomer. “Experiencing it is something different.”

Coomer doesn’t need to respond, not vocally. He pulls Bubby into the biggest bear hug he can muster.

“Ack! Coomer!” Bubby grunts. “Not all of us are ninety-percent metal!”

“Forty-seven point five!” Coomer corrects them, but he releases Bubby with an apologetic head pat. “I’m sorry, though. I just love you too much! I want to hug you all the time!”

Bubby’s face goes red immediately. Even after all these years together, Coomer can still make them blush as though it were their first date all over again.

“Yeah! W-well!” they stammer. “Good! You should want to do that!”

Choking back his laughter, Coomer pulls Bubby in for another, more gentle hug.

☆*☆

They’re curled up on his couch late one night, watching an old movie when Coomer decides to bring up the elephant in the room.

Coomer stops running his hand through Bubby’s hair. “Your hairline is receding. You know that, right?”

Bubby immediately sits up from where he was resting on Coomer’s chest. “Shut the fuck-”

“I was just saying!”

“I do not want to hear it!”

“Bubby, dear, you’re completely gray already. My hairline is also receding!”

“Yeah, well.” Bubby crosses his arms, turning away from Coomer. “You’re a year older than me, so that makes sense.”

Coomer shakes his head. “Well, I suppose there’s only one way to settle this.”

Bubby gasps. “You wouldn’t!” He scrambles to the other side of the couch. “Stay away from me, you bastard!”

“A fight to the death!”

And with that, Coomer lunges.

☆*☆

All good things must come to an end. It’s a concept Coomer is intimately familiar with.

☆*☆

The morning begins in Coomer’s kitchenette, Bubby hunched over the table drinking their coffee out of a mug that says “Total Stud” on it. A gift from three years ago. As they rub the sleep from their eyes, Coomer bounces around preparing breakfast for the both of them.

“You’re heading back down to Biological Research again today, aren’t you?” Coomer asks over his shoulder as he fries a few eggs.

Out of the corner of his eye, Coomer spots Bubby signing, [Yes.] Must be a rough morning, then.

“Medical checkup?” Coomer asks, slipping their eggs onto two plates and serving one to his partner. But Bubby ignores him. They pointedly hold the mug with both hands, taking a long and drawn-out sip.

Coomer bites his cheek as he sits across from Bubby. “You know, they’re dragging me into another meeting down there today.”

[Clone thing?] Bubby absentmindedly picks at their eggs. Scrambled, just how they like them.

“I believe so,” Coomer sighs. “You’re sure it’s different from you?”

Bubby nods. [It’s just you in two bodies. Wasn’t like that for me.]

While it’s a relief that there aren’t going to be any more children brought up in Black Mesa like Bubby was, Coomer’s still not entirely sure he likes the implications of the alternative. A hivemind of himself just wandering around the facility? Is that something he wants?

“But, anyway.” Coomer got sidetracked. “I was thinking we could head down there toge-”

That wakes Bubby up more than coffee ever could. “No!” they shout, rising from their chair in an instant. The second they register their panic, though, it’s gone. “It’s… we shouldn’t go together. I’ll probably leave after we eat.”

Maybe it’s the way they look into his eyes, like a caged animal, but something about what Bubby says next sticks with him for the rest of the day.

“They aren’t good people, Harold.”

☆*☆

Coomer catches sight of Bubby as he’s rushed into one of the offices, through a window into a test chamber. They’re back in a medical gown again (that hurts to see), shoulders slumped as a scientist speaks to them. Their eyes meet for the briefest of seconds, Bubby offering him a small smile, which Coomer returns.

Then the scientist snaps at Bubby, who immediately goes rigid and turns away from Coomer.

☆*☆

“To put it simply, Dr. Coomer, the sequencing of your DNA is ideal for mass-producing clones.”

The man in front of him—Dr. Daniels, as the nameplate on his desk reads—smirks as he speaks, and it isn’t at all close to the endearing ones Bubby has. It’s cold, calculating, and makes Coomer want to squirm. When you’re the head of Biological Research, you get to be intimidating.

In the back of his head, Coomer hears Bubby’s warning. ‘They aren’t good people, Harold.’

“How did you get my DNA in the first place?” Coomer inquires, because he knows for a fact he hasn’t given them any.

Dr. Daniels just laughs at him, more mocking than assuring. “Cybernetics had a few samples on record, in the event of complications during surgery,” he says. “It wasn’t hard to get ahold of them.”

Coomer frowns. Damn, he didn’t think those were still around. ‘They aren’t good people, Harold.’

“You see, I’m worried about the shared consciousness,” Coomer looks for an out. There’s a strange noise in the hallway, but it’s easy enough to ignore. “They’d just be mindless extensions of myself?”

“That’s a simplification, but yes,” Dr. Daniels begins rifling through his desk drawers. “I apologize, I swear I had a paper here that would explain it better.” His brow furrows, but he’s interrupted when

CRASH!!

Another noise from the hallway, this time even louder than before. And people are shouting. It startles the both of them.

Dr. Daniels grumbles, “What the hell is happening out there?”

The office door flies off its hinges in a fiery burst of energy, and a figure steps in. And figure is the right word, because it’s difficult to make out any features beyond pure black and literally engulfed in flame.

Oh fuck.

That’s Bubby, isn’t it?

They look between the two people in the office, finally settling on Dr. Daniels. They point towards him as they speak.

“You.” Their voice is full of malice, more than Coomer’s ever heard from them before. They take a shambling step forward, leaving a trail of fires and scorch marks behind them as they walk. “Get away from him.”

But Dr. Daniels makes no move. “Now, now, Subject 33, there’s no need for this.”

Bubby is careful to avoid Coomer in his approach, made easier by the fact that Coomer has retreated to the side of the office. He can’t really escape without jumping through fire, and, well…

He can’t leave Bubby.

“I’m not going to let you hurt him,” Bubby hisses, climbing onto the desk and raising a hand to strike. “Not like you hurt me.”

Dr. Daniels isn’t afraid. He only shoots a disappointed glance Coomer’s way. “I see.”

He turns his attention back to Bubby. “Thirty-three drop.”

They’re just words, but they have an obvious effect on Bubby. Their flames extinguish immediately, leaving them smoking slightly. Their limbs go slack, and they fall backwards off the desk.

For a moment, Coomer is convinced Daniels killed them.

“What a shame,” Daniels walks around the desk, grabbing onto the back of Bubby’s medical gown. “You were doing such good work in Chemical Engineering. We’ll have to move you, now.”

As Daniels drags Bubby behind him, Coomer meets their eyes again. Despite the limpness in their body, Bubby is wide awake and begging, pleading for help.

But Coomer is frozen still.

Daniels unceremoniously drops Bubby in the hallway, calling out to the survivors of Bubby’s rampage to put them back in the tube for now. He closes the door after that and looks at Coomer.

“Now, as for you…”

‘They aren’t good people, Harold.’

☆*☆

All good things must come to an end.

But, thinking back on it, Bubby wasn’t just a good thing. No, the term “good thing” is not enough to describe the impact they left on Harold Coomer’s life. He knows it isn’t, not with the way he wakes up cold every morning, reaching for a warmth that isn’t there. Coomer finds himself boxing up leftovers more often than not, making enough food for two out of habit. He cries whenever he finds something in his dorm that Bubby left behind, like their mug or a sweater.

All good things must come to an end, but Bubby was more than that. Bubby was always more than people wanted them to be, everyone except Coomer. And when you spend so long living with so much, the absence is terrifyingly empty.

Bubby was an inferno. Bubby was the stars in their eyes. Bubby was passion, and intellect, and bravery, and cowardice, all in one.

Bubby was loved.

☆*☆

It goes like this.

Coomer is transferred to Biological Research, where they can keep an eye on him. He is not given a choice. He will participate in the cloning experiments, and he’ll live with it.

Bubby’s been transferred somewhere else. Their dorm has been moved. Coomer is not to speak with them again, under any circumstance.

Life continues, but it doesn’t move on.

☆*☆

Several times a day, Coomer catches himself thinking about Bubby.

‘What are they doing right now?’

‘Where are they?’

‘I miss them.’

‘Bubby would love this.’

‘Bubby would hate this.’

‘I should tell Bubby about this!’

It always hurts.

☆*☆

Coomer has to figure out grounding methods on his own. Everytime a new clone pops out, a piece of Coomer disappears for good. He loses items more often, because his thoughts strayed to a clone’s at just the wrong second. He still remembers things, but it’s getting harder and harder everyday. Some days his head is cloudy, and he can’t quite figure out what it is he’s supposed to do at work.

If Bubby were here, they would make fun of him. Yeah, they were kind of a jerk, weren’t they? A loving, wonderful jerk. But they wouldn’t have complained, there’s no doubt in Coomer’s mind.

Some days, when he wakes up, Coomer doesn’t remember that Bubby’s not by his side anymore.

☆*☆

Things don’t get better, but over the course of fifteen years, they do get easier.

Coomer starts making friends again, a young man by the name of Gordon Freeman. Coomer can tell he’s stressed out being so young in such a competitive field (especially working in Anomalous Materials, the things he’s heard about that department…), so maybe he takes a bit of a mentorship role to him.

It’s nice. They’ve known each other for a year at this point, and, well, he’s kind of like the son Coomer never had.

Gordon mentions that there’s a big test coming up, apparently his team is pulling other Anomalous Materials teams in just to make sure everything runs smoothly. And though it’s complicated, his job is rather simple. Push a crystal into a laser!

What could go wrong?

☆*☆

Of course Coomer shows up the day of the test to support Gordon! He hasn’t got anything better to do today, so he might as well see what all the fuss is over at Anomalous Materials.

It’s easy enough to bullshit his way past their front desk, having a million clones of yourself running around means there’s a million spots for you to fill should you need to. He briefly greets Gordon in the locker room, wishing him luck as he hurries on his way.

But, finally, he finds his way to the control room. The perfect place to watch from!

There are two scientists inside, both of whom are tall and lanky. One’s pretty young, Coomer thinks he must be around his mid-thirties. And the other-

“I swear to you, Tommy, this man says-”

He stops the second he spots the intruder, face slightly twitching in a way Coomer knows means he's resisting wincing. He’s lost more of his hair since Coomer last saw him, and though it’s been fifteen years, he’s aged pretty well, all things considered.

“Bubby?” The name comes tumbling out of Coomer’s mouth before he can stop himself. There's no way…

That does something to the scientist, dropping his stern expression for something softer. “Harold? Is that really-”

They’re interrupted by a clattering noise in the test chamber, all three of them turning to see Gordon has entered, accompanied by a security guard.

“Fuck,” Bubby swears. “What the hell is he doing?”

The other scientist, Tommy, preoccupies himself with yelling back and forth with the security guard.

“Tommy, do you know this man?” Bubby snaps (Coomer doesn’t remember him being this standoffish), appearing annoyed when he receives no answer.

“You know, he didn’t bring his passport!” Coomer jokes, trying to lighten the mood but…

Bubby is pointedly looking away from him, his attention focused on the computer terminal in front of him. He keeps mumbling about how fucked the technology in this part of the facility is, and honestly, Coomer agrees. Why they’re having Anomalous Materials run such high-risk tests in such a poor state, he has no idea. It’s like they’re asking for something terrible to happen.

And something does.

Things get worse as the test continues. The Anti-Mass Spectrometer begins to smoke, the computers in the control room are clearly on the fritz, and Bubby is still ignoring Coomer. But everything goes wrong after the crystal sample is placed in the laser.

They attempt to shut the Anti-Mass Spectrometer down, but it doesn’t work. Electricity arches throughout the room, striking the walls and loosening panels. All at once, an explosion rocks the test chamber, sending the three scientists ducking to the floor.

While Coomer doesn’t understand whatever the hell just happened, Bubby and Tommy certainly do. The second the test chamber stills, they rush out of the control room, heading two separate directions.

Some little part of Coomer’s heart that remained intact shatters.

☆*☆

Between all the zombies and aliens wandering around and the sheer destruction that’s been wrought on the facility, it’s quite obvious that Black Mesa has become defunct. As their team of five travels through the depths of their workplace, Coomer revels in the fact that he finally has an opportunity to get rid of these clones. With each of their deaths, it’s like a part of himself comes back.

Bubby catches on. Coomer occasionally spots him taking out a clone from the corner of his eyes.

That first night, after they all stop to rest, Coomer is surprised that Bubby chooses to sit next to him. After a full day of nothing from Bubby, Coomer had thought he was losing him all over again.

“This is the end of Black Mesa, isn’t it?” Bubby asks. Despite their proximity, he still won’t face Coomer.

Coomer looks out at the sleeping forms of their companions. Gordon is still stuck in his Hazard Suit, which probably makes sleeping even more uncomfortable. Tommy, meanwhile, has taken off his lab coat and bunched it up into a pillow.

“I believe so, Bubby,” Coomer admits.

Bubby sighs, but it’s not disappointment. It’s relief. Coomer is shocked to feel him take his hand into his own.

“It’s good to see you again, Harold,” he finally confesses. “You won’t believe how much I missed you.”

Coomer chuckles. “I have some idea.” Every nerve in his hand is buzzing, and if he was too old for this when he and Bubby first started dating, then he’s definitely too old now.

“So what are we doing, then?” Bubby’s being vague on purpose.

“Well, we should probably…” Coomer’s thoughts drift back to their final encounter, “talk. About everything. And then, I suppose, if you’ll have me…” He looks to Bubby, hope in his eyes.

Bubby scoffs, trying to keep his voice down. He leans his head against Coomer. “Seriously? You want to pick up where we left off fifteen years later?”

“I don’t see why we couldn’t!” Coomer says. “Who’s around to stop us now?”

Instead of arguing, Bubby lets his head drop down to Coomer’s shoulder. “You have a point,” he whispers after stifling a yawn. “We’ll talk in the morning?”

“We do need our rest,” Coomer concedes, resting his head atop Bubby. “Goodnight, then.”

Bubby falls asleep fast, like he always did. As for Coomer, despite the two of them laying against a concrete wall, it’s the best sleep he’s gotten in years.

☆*☆

While Bubby sticks to Coomer’s side like glue, it’s clear they’re avoiding being alone with him. They’ll slyly take ahold of his hand as the two of them walk side-by-side, but the second the team rounds a corner ahead of them, they’re dragging Coomer forward while shouting “We’re going to be left behind!”

They still haven’t talked about that last day.

But Coomer finds himself unable to complain too much. Having Bubby with him again, smiling and laughing, holding them… it’s everything he ever wanted.

☆*☆

When they finally make it back to the surface, Gordon has a great idea.

“Why don’t we just climb?” He gestures to the rocks in front of them. “Why don’t we just go over the rocks and fucking get out of here? We’re at the surface…”

Bubby tries to deter him, reminding Gordon that they’re in the middle of nowhere, but Coomer gets an idea.

“I could always try to clear the mountaintops with my SuperLegs,” he suggests, and when he doesn’t hear no, he goes for it.

He’s up there for but a few seconds, but what he sees beyond the walls of Black Mesa shakes him to his core.

There’s nothing there.

☆*☆

After the rocket launch, Coomer catches Bubby staring out the window instead of sleeping. Their eyes are trained on the night sky, watching the stars twinkle with a determination Coomer’s never seen before.

“Bubby,” Coomer calls out to them, shocking them from whatever trance they’re in. “You should really sleep.”

To be honest, it’s more for his sake than theirs. He just needs to feel Bubby by his side, tonight more so than any.

“Right,” Bubby moves back to Coomer’s side, nestling their face into his shoulder. “When you- I didn’t realize you were telling the truth, earlier.”

Coomer sighs. “You saw it too?”

They nod, mumbling, “There’s really nothing out there, is there?”

What do you do when facing down the limits of your own reality? What is there to do but seek comfort in that which makes you feel human?

☆*☆

Bubby's been whispering with Benrey. Occasionally the two of them will fall behind or run ahead of the group, mumbling to each other as they glance around nervously. While it is suspicious, Coomer knows Bubby! He hasn't heard anything terrible from him!

But still, he is acting rather strange.

"Bubby, dearest?" Coomer asks. Bubby is apparently back in one of his clingy moods, as he wrapped his arms around Coomer the second everyone decided to take a break and refused to let go.

Something about the word "dearest" irks Bubby. His eye twitches, which is definitely not the effect it had on him fifteen years ago.

"What?" Bubby's obviously fighting against a harsh tone, a contrast to the fact he's currently holding onto Coomer for dear life.

"I wanted to make sure you were doing alright, after yesterday," Coomer continues. "You’ve been on edge today."

Bubby grimaces. "Maybe it's the alien invasion we're fighting off."

"You know that's a flimsy excuse."

"What does it matter?" Bubby huffs. "What does any of this matter?"

In all his years of comforting Bubby, of offering words of encouragement in the face of dire circumstances, Coomer has never fallen short of words like he has now. How can he provide him with answers that he himself is reaching for?

Bubby notices his hesitance and sighs, tired. His eyes are stern and hollow. Without another word he stands, joining the rest of the group and leaving Coomer behind.

☆*☆

Coomer is too trusting. How many times over the years has Bubby called him a fool? Lambasted his desire to look for the good? 'The world isn't as kind as you imagine it, Harold, get your head out of the clouds.'

Bubby and Benrey betray Gordon. Walking towards that dreaded room, Coomer notices that same hollow expression on Bubby's face, his words betraying him.

A second before the lights go out on Gordon, Coomer sees the most twisted grin worm its way onto Bubby's face. A grin he can hear wiped away when Gordon screams in pain, knife tearing through flesh.

The whole time, Coomer is frozen in place. His PowerLegs feel more like stone than advanced cybernetic enhancements. His friend is being hurt, right in front of him! And he can’t…

He can’t..

Do anything.

It's fifteen years ago, all over again.

The second the thought crosses his mind, Coomer makes an excuse to run, hoping at least someone will follow him. He can't let this happen again, he can't be trapped by his own inaction! Gordon might be beyond saving, but they aren't!

Nobody pursues. Coomer finds himself wandering the halls of Black Mesa. Alone.

☆*☆

Stupid.

Useless.

Cowardly.

Selfish.

Spineless.

Coomer realizes it's no wonder he lost Bubby. He didn’t deserve them.

☆*☆

The clones end up being good for something after all.

When you have three hundred subhuman extensions of yourself, it turns out you have what could be described as a one-man army.

☆*☆

Coomer has a plan. Screw everything else, he's fucked up beyond measure in here. He is getting out of this game, one way or another.

He's got all the clones he could find, one surging attack should do the trick. After all, the man is suffering from a recent amputation, he shouldn't be that hard to take down. Well, Coomer didn't anticipate Tommy, but that's not too big of a wrench. He's knocked down, he stands, ready to fight again, but...

But he sees Gordon. So weak, so bloody, so delirious. And yet still walking.

The anger recedes. Coomer stands down, offering peace instead. Despite everything, he can’t bring himself to hate Gordon.

☆*☆

They find Bubby locked up in their tube, and with the way they enter the room, Coomer doesn't even realize they're in there at first.

Coomer is angry, he's furious at Bubby for their betrayal. They sold Gordon, their friend, out to the military! Of all people!

But seeing Bubby back in their tube, pounding on the glass, begging to be let out, for Gordon to understand they were tricked and lied to.

It isn't right.

If Coomer can get a second chance after the stunt he pulled, then Bubby can as well.

☆*☆

They stop for the night in a small room that they climbed into through the roof. As the group talks, Coomer sits next to Bubby, even lays near them when it's time to go to sleep. But he can tell, from the way their eyes keep glancing towards the bloody stump where Gordon's hand used to be, that their mind is elsewhere.

Bubby doesn't reach out for him at night, and after the day they've all had, Coomer isn't sure he should make the first move. Still, even subconsciously, they lay back-to-back as they sleep.

Until Coomer's back suddenly feels cold.

He sits up, noticing Bubby has woken up and is trying to worm their way back onto the roof. Their eyes meet for a moment, both of them silent before Bubby climbs up.

Coomer decides to follow.

The sight Coomer finds is not unfamiliar to him. Bubby sits on the roof, their knees drawn to their chest, gazing up at the starry sky above them. Their eyes are not full of their usual wonder. When Coomer sits down next to them, they finally speak.

"I fucked up," Bubby confesses, eyes still glued to the sky.

Coomer already knew that, but... "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I-" Bubby starts, but they swallow and try again. "When I saw the void, I thought that meant that nothing here mattered." Coomer wraps an arm around Bubby, and they lean into him. "That my whole life, what happened to us, it was all fake and meaningless."

"But we're real," Coomer says, not a lecture, but an affirmation. "We love, we feel pain, we have fun. To an extent, we're alive."

"That we are," Bubby agrees. They pause for a beat, before revealing, "I hated you."

Coomer remains quiet, mostly out of confusion.

Bubby pulls back to face him. "Biological Research knew the whole time that you were seeing me. They thought you were a good influence, so they didn't step in." They grip the sleeve of Coomer's lab coat. "But that day, they mentioned it to me, and I… I just snapped."

Vaguely, Coomer remembers Dr. Daniels saying he had "expended his usefulness" sometime before the cloning began.

"I wanted to protect you, Harold. You were the first good thing in my life, I couldn't let them hurt you," Bubby whimpers. "But when I needed your help, you didn't… you…"

Harold Coomer froze.

Something clicks in the back of his mind. When the soldiers attacked Gordon, Bubby knew that Coomer wouldn't act.

Bubby yanks Coomer back to their chest, holding him as close as possible. "I blamed you, and I hated that I blamed you, and I loved you. Harold, those first years without you were awful."

Coomer can hear Bubby crying, and he knows he's doing the same.

"I'm sorry," Coomer sobs into their shirt, hugging Bubby just as tightly as they hug him. "My darling Bubby, I am so, so sorry."

"Don't say that," Bubby repeats it like a mantra every time Coomer apologizes. "Harold, don't you dare say that."

☆*☆

They make it to the end. They're loomed over by the twisted monstrosity that is Benrey. They destroy their passports, and pour everything they can into knocking this bastard down once and for all.

Bubby erupts in flames, his body once again becoming a vague silhouette. Unlike the last time he saw this sight, Coomer feels no dread. There is no pit in his stomach.

This is elation.

☆*☆

They share their first kiss in years in a Chuck E. Cheese, of all places. After watching the two of them dance around each other for five days, Gordon finally feels comfortable enough to ask them what the hell their relationship status is.

Coomer opens his mouth to answer, but Bubby has a better idea. He tilts Coomer's face towards his own, leans in, and kisses him right on the lips.

It's like nothing has changed in fifteen years. When they kiss, it's like they're young all over again.

☆*☆

They survive after the game. Bubby questions it aloud one day, but Coomer doesn't want to think about it. Whatever has happened that allows their continued existence, it's nothing short of a miracle.

Bubby and Coomer end up crashing in Gordon's house for a few days, considering they don't quite have a place of their own yet. On day three, Gordon's son Joshua calls both of them his grandpas, and Coomer cries for an hour.

They move out eventually, when their government mandated hush money comes in. Not far, but Bubby clearly wants some independence. It's a nice little place, cozy but not too small.

Bubby never starts the conversations about marriage, but they're always an active participant. When Coomer had first brought up the idea, Bubby had to put their magazine down, their eyes blown wide.

"Holy shit!" they exclaim, realization hitting them like a train. "We can do that now!"

After fifteen years of absence, waking up with Bubby by his side, curling their fingers through his hair, is magical. The life they never thought they'd have—a house on the surface, with a family all their own—is reality. Coomer has never been happier.

All good things must come to an end. But Bubby has always been better than good.

#hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #hlvrai boomer #boomer #dr bubby #dr coomer #my writing #good things #cw unethical science #cw trigger phrases

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holycatsandrabbits · 5 years

Text

“Crowley, my dear, have you been undermining the moral fabric of society?”

There was a slight tremor of laughter in Mr. Fell’s voice as he called out from the front of the bookshop.

Back in the shop’s seating area, Audrey was watching a guy named Sam do Mr. Crowley’s eye makeup, painting glimmering, jade-green scales that spread from his golden snake-eye contacts up to his eyebrows and then out over his cheekbones.

“What, today?” Mr. Crowley yelled back. “Nah, I’m off the clock.”

Audrey could hear Mr. Fell talking to someone. “And I can assure you that I haven’t been doing any, ah, undermining myself, so I’m afraid we can’t help you with your, er, complaint.”

There was a sound of stomping on the bookshop floor and an angry stranger appeared out of the stacks, followed by Mr. Fell, who looked some polite version of annoyed. He wasn’t supposed to see Mr. Crowley’s makeup until it was done, so Mr. Crowley quickly put on his sunglasses.

The angry man glared at them, and Audrey shrank down into her hoodie a little, curling her legs up under her on the couch. She liked to come to Mr. Fell’s shop after high school and hang out—the rainbow flags displayed outside had drawn her in—and this was the first time she’d ever felt uncomfortable here. In a quick and strangely graceful movement, Mr. Crowley rolled his chair so that he was in between her and the stranger. Audrey hadn’t even realized that the bookshop’s big armchairs had wheels on them.

“Look at what is going on back here!” the man snarled. “You’re corrupting the youth!”

“Oh, no, no, not at all,” Mr. Crowley assured him, relaxing back into his chair. “No corrupting going on. We charge extra for that.”

The man spluttered. “You are all going to Hell!”

Mr. Fell put his hands out and spoke soothingly. “That’s...unlikely. In any case, we have found that there is a way to deal with all questions about Heaven and Hell, and that’s simply to love. Love will never lead you off the path. If you—”

“It’s perversion!” the man exclaimed. “A man wearing make—” But the second that the stranger pointed toward Mr. Crowley, he suddenly clutched at his stomach. “Loo?” he groaned.

“It’s not for the public, I’m afraid,” Mr. Fell answered, sounding quite as if he were sincerely sympathetic.

As the man turned on his heel and ran out of the shop, Mr. Crowley snorted a laugh. He rolled his chair back over to Sam, careful now to face away from his husband as he set his sunglasses back down. “That was not very angelic of you.”

“You’re a bad influence on me, dear.”

“Right. I love how when you do something rude, it’s still my fault.”

“Oh, I love it too,” Mr. Fell agreed. He turned to Audrey. “I’m sorry. I hope he didn’t upset you too much.”

Audrey just shrugged, still somewhat withdrawn into her sweatshirt.

“Do you like makeup?” Sam asked her. “I know not everybody does. Believe it or not, I married a woman who never wears it.”

“How ineffable,” Mr. Fell remarked and Mr. Crowley made a snorting noise.

“I do, but I’ve never worn it before,” Audrey said, and Sam showed her a tray of eye shadows with so many blues that it looked like a painting of the sky. Finally the words she’d wanted to say for a while came tumbling out of her mouth, quite easily, even if they did carry the weight of her world on them. “I think I’m a girl.”

Mr. Fell gave her a very fond smile. “Oh, I’m so honored that you felt comfortable sharing that with us. Do you have a name you’d like us to call you, or would you like to stick with Jacob?”

“Audrey,” said Audrey.

“Very nice,” Mr. Crowley spoke up. “Classic name.”

Audrey felt a little warmer then. As Sam started showing her how to apply eye shadow, he asked Mr. Crowley and Mr. Fell how they’d met. In answer they gave a convoluted story told with much bickering and shushing of each other. As far as Audrey could tell, the point was that their families hadn’t gotten along.

“We made a new family,” Mr. Fell said. “Right here.”

“My family’s been okay with it so far,” Audrey said. “It’s just—I feel so confused. Sometimes I wonder if God made a mistake with me.”

For a split-second, Mr. Fell seemed to almost transform in front of her eyes into something else, something huge and glowing and magnificent. “My dear child, you are in no way a mistake. People aren’t made just male and female, that’s too limiting for God.”

And then he was just Mr. Fell again, all in mild shades of cream and blue tartan. Audrey blinked, wondering if something was wrong with her eyes or the lighting in the shop.

“Even if your family’s supportive, you’re still welcome to be part of our family too,” Mr. Fell told her. “It doesn’t matter if you’re confused, we can just all be confused together. Things can be quite lovely that way.”

Mr. Crowley changed into a black suit with a black shirt and tie for their date, and between the contacts and the makeup and something else that Audrey couldn’t quite put her finger on, he almost looked more serpentine than human. When Mr. Fell saw him, he literally blushed.

As Mr. Fell was locking up, Sam handed the tray of blue eye shadows to Audrey and refused to take payment for them. “If you want any more lessons, we can set them up at the bookshop. There’s a really strong be yourself vibe here. Even for me, a straight, cis-gendered guy who does makeup for a living. It’s a safe space.”

Mr. Crowley laughed. “Of course it is. Belongs to an angel.”

As they watched the Bentley drive away, Audrey said, “You don’t really think—”

Sam cleared his throat. “That Mr. Crowley doesn’t wear contacts? That Mr. Fell is a tartan-wearing, super-gay literal angel who curses homophobes with diarrhea? Yeah, pretty sure.” He shrugged. “Like I said. Bookshop’s a place to be yourself.”

******

When my dad let us know that she was also my mom, this was our rallying cry: Let’s all be confused together! I can report that it has been, in fact, lovely. (Helps that our whole family is queer as a bus full of unicorns.)

Mr. Fell’s bookshop ficlets master post

Find me on Ao3: HolyCatsAndRabbits (Dannye Chase)

#Dannye writes #Good omens #ficlet #trans character written by daughter of a trans woman #queer characters written by queer author #outsider perspective #Mr. Fell's bookshop ficlets

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chicagopd2020 · 4 years

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New Beginnings Are Good For Everyone Ch.5

Waking up the next morning was one of the easiest things she ever done, which was weird because she hated monday mornings so much. But getting up and going through her morning routine just to make sure everything is right before she heads out for her first day as member of the Chicago PD Intellgence Unit. Kim had a little extra pep in her step and she was happy about it because it hadnt been there in a long time. She grabbed her jacket & keys ready to walk out the door. She stops for coffee to make sure that doesnt hit a wall in the middle of the day.

Kim walks into the station and she sees Sargent Platt, she decides that the best thing to do is to talk to her and to see what she is suppose to do. She stands there silently as Sargent Platt finishes the conversation with the officers in blue. When Trudy looks up and notices Kim she tells the officers to move along. She welcomes her back and asks if she is ready for her first day.

Kim replies happily that she was more than ready to prove herself to everyone. She kept small conversation with Trudy until Trudy looks behind her and notices one of the members of the Intelligence Unit.

Upton?

Yes Sargent?

You know Agent Kim Burgess?

Yes I know Kim

Well would mind buzzing her upstairs with you just until we can get her into the system.

Of course, follow me Kim and show you where you are going to start spending most of your time

Oh I cant wait.

I promise you that will change, I love my job but you have no time for a personal life.

I guess that it is a good thing that I am a woman focusing on her career right now and not a romantic relationship.

They carry on with their conversation with their small climb of the stairs, Hailey walks her to Voights office and wishes her good luck even though she knows she will see her in just a couple mins.

Kim welcome to your first day as a memeber of intellgence, just want to go over a few things while we wait on the last couple people to show up. He starts going over the rules and not that there was many rules but he lives strongly by the few rules that he has.

Kim has noticed that Hank Voight is not your normal Sargent but she wasnt wanting normal she was just wanting to serve justice for the city of Chicago. She continues to listen intently to what Voight is saying taking everything he was saying to the heart so she knows what not to do to get on his bad side. I am going to give you a few weeks to study everything, I have set up your test in two weeks for you detective exam. The moment finally comes to where he asks if she had any questions

I will make sure that I study up on everything that I need to know so that I can pass the test of my first try. I say things like that so I can keep it in my mind that I will pass the test and that I can do anything I put my mind to.

I know that everyone is partnered up with someone, I was just curious who my partner was going to be? I know that no matter who I am with that I will have a great partner. This team just seems like they have each others back no matter if they are actually partners or not.

That we do Kim we are family here, Whatever one member of the intellgence is going through everyone feels the pain, I know that it is weird to say buts it true. We have our fights like any of family but at the end of the day we will have each others back no matter what.

That is exactly what I want because at the FBI yes it was everyone worked as a team but at the end of the day everyone was only watching out for theirselves and if they had the chance to do it they would throw someone under the bus in a heartbeat. That was until Erin came I knew that she would have my back no matter what and she was the only thing that I was going to the miss about it and that was it.

Good to hear Kim, he looks out the window and notices that the whole team is here. Come on lets go out to the bullpin and I will let everyone know all at once who you are going to partnered with.

The door opens and everyones eyes looks toward the door and sees Kim and Hank exiting, Hank finally speaks up, So as everyone of you know Agent Burgess as of today is officially a member of Intellgence and I think she is going to be an amazing addition to the team and I want you all to make her feel at welcome. So as of today Burgess you are going to partnered up with Halstead, Upton you will be with Ruzek and Atwater you will be Olinksy.

Hailey showed Kim where her desk would be, which was actually her old desk. Hank liked the partners to be close to each other that shows they can work as a team not only on the street but in the close quarters of an office.

The first couple hours was kind of quiet just everyone going over cases they had been working on. When Voight walks out of the office and catches all of their attenion.

We have a case, We are looking at a small drug smuggling team that is somewhat new to the city, and one of the leaders of the team is trying to look normal or something because he has a nine to five job and he doesnt live in these high priced homes to make it not look so obvious but the others, they are staying hid very well because there has been no trace of any clues as to who any of his partners are. This is Lorenzo Lopez he is best known as Enzo.

Kim finally looks away from the file in her hands and takes a look at the picture hanging on the board, and her eyes go huge. She looks over a Jay and they share this look knowing that this was the neighbor that Jay thought was very sketchy. Voight must have caught onto that look, cause he questioned them.

What is that look the two of you just shared?

Well it turns out that he lives in our building and right next door to Kim. He just moved into the apartment a few weeks ago and he seemed kind of sketchy but I never really thought anything of it.

Kim was just lost in her thoughts that she didnt really hear the conversation that was going on. Until Jay tapped her shoulder to get her attention. She slightly jumped that never happens, she just thought that she left him in the past and now she was going to be apart of the team to send him to prison and honestly she cant say that she was upset about it. It was one of the main reasons that she left him she knew that the business that he was in wasnt legal and there was no way in hell that she was going to let him mess up her career.

Kim are you alright?

Yeah, Im just thinking about someway, anyway that we can take him down.

Jay wasnt buying it but it was her first day he wasnt going to push the boundaries just yet. So he just let it go for now.

Halstead you and Burgess go talk to your CI'S and see if they know anything about this. Everyone just keep digging into his past and see what you can dig up.

Kim heard the last sentence and knew that she had to tell someone about her connection to the suspect before someone actually figured it out and wonder why she didnt tell them, so who is best to tell then her partner.

They get into Jay's truck and head out and she knew that if she didnt talk about it now that she never would. She lets out this deep breathe

Jay I need to tell you something.

You can tell me anything. Im here for you

Its about the suspect that we are looking into, you know last night when I said something under my breathe about our sketchy neighbor

Yeah, what about it?

Well, what I didnt tell you is that I know Enzo very very well

How well?

As in we were together for over a year

What?!?!

Yeah, when we first met he was normal like any other guy but then the longer that we were together its like I just didnt get the same vibe from him that I used to. When we would spend time together I would feel uneasy that something could go wrong at any minute. So after that night I just told him that I think that it was best if we seen other people and that I didnt see a future with him. Lets just say that he didnt take it the best and i had to end up moving somewhere else but a few weeks before I found out that I got the job here I felt as if I was being followed and yet somehow we end being neighbors. I didnt want to think nothing much about it when I first set eyes on him but it just seems like he found out from someone that I was moving here and just thought that maybe if he lived here first that I wouldnt think nothing about it.

Kim you definetly have to tell Voight about this

I know I just didnt think that I would ever see him again

Even though you never thought you would see him again doesnt change anything he is our main suspect and you could be the reason he is in Chicago and that may actually lead us to him, I would never actually make you do anything that would put you in danger I hope you know this

I do know this, but whatever helps put him behind bars quicker I am willing to help

Jay talked to a couple of his CI'S and they were not much help, So they started back toward the station when Halstead got a message with an address to meet the rest of the team. As they arrived they seen the team surrounding something on the ground and as they made it to their side they seen that it was a woman who couldnt have been not much older than 25 and she was laying there with a cut throat.

Do we think that this has anything to do with Enzo and his men? Kim questioned

We wont know anything until we get the autopsy back. Says Voight

Sarge is there anyway that I can have a word with you

Yeah, sure

They walked far enough away that nobody would be able to hear what they were talking about. She told him everything that she told Jay and hoped that whatever she told him would help.

Kim I know that wasnt easy to say but I am glad that you told me before we had to find it out on our own and then it would have looked bad on your end and looked like you were hiding something.

Thats what I thought and Jay told me that I should tell you right away and I feel so much better now that I did.

They join back up with the team and all head back to the station. Once they make it back to the station everyone gathers around the board and Voight feels the team in on everything you told him and they tried to figure out what was the best way they could get his guards down long enough for someone to get into his place to bug his apartment or even his phone.

Kim was the first person to speak up.

I think we know the only person that he is going to even let into his apartment is me

Kim you dont have to do this...Voight and Jay say at the same time

Your right I dont but I know that this is my job and that it is the right thing to do. You could always be close enough to that if I feel threathened that you will be right there.

If you are sure that you want to do this then we will do it

Its the furthest from what I want to do but its what I know needs to be done.

Alright everyone we will put everything in motion tonight. So get ready

Kim cant believe she is the one that thought of this but I think in the end its the only thing that would have made sense, Its the only way they will be able to bust him

#jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #Jay halstead x kim burgess #kim burgess #chicagopd #chicago pd x reader

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rndyounghowze · 3 years

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Black Noses And My Personal History With White Supremacy

I finally got the courage to talk about something that Dana has been challenging me to post about for a while. #blm #stopwhiteterrorism

By Ricky and Dana Young-Howze

Mays Landing, NJ

Venmo: @rndyounghowze

I have a very vivid memory of being teased on the school bus in elementary school for having “a black nose and lips”. Until I got glasses and was diagnosed with Tourettes it was the common theme of my playground bullying. My biggest role model at the time was our bus driver Mr. Garland (I think that was his name) because he defended me. I remember trying to make up some story about how I got plastic surgery and they messed up my nose. He looked me dead in the eye and said “we have to be proud of what we look like. We are beautiful inside and out. They’re ugly on the inside. That’s what makes us better”.

I lived with my grandmother during the week and my parents on the weekends. My mom and dad lived in one of the first “projects” in the US and at that time they were one of two white families living there. I would be playing with the kids in the playground and a Black mom who would be watching us would tell me to come up to them and she would hold my chin in her hand and turn my head for inspection to the other mothers sitting there smoking cigarettes. She would tell me “I don’t care what your mom and dad told you” and would let me go back and play. I never really knew what she meant.

Flash forward to high school. I decided that I wanted to dive into my family history. I was in a play about the Confederate Flag and I remembered that I had family on both sides of the war. I had enough info about my family to join the Sons of Confederate Veterans. I also knew that my family up In Kentucky had fought in the Union. I was proud to have “heritage” on both sides.

I was rooting through photo albums in my Dad’s mom’s house. I came upon a family bible that was really old. It had to be old enough to be owned by the parts of the family that lived in the Appalachian Mountains in the 1800’s. Family bibles used to have these front pages that listed weddings and births. Listed in the middle is a marriage between a woman with the last name Jung and a man named Richard with no last name. This would not have meant anything except that after his name they took the time to list him as “a n*****r”. They then spent a paragraph talking about how he fought in the Civil War and saved lives in a battle by shooting a superior officer and allowing the company to retreat. So he was a n*****r but he was a “good n*****r”.

I knew that the story was that our family had changed our last name from Jung to Young to avoid discrimination. My Dad’s side of the family has an outstanding military history and I know they were worried about appearing to have German ties in the war. I eventually went across the street and asked my great grandfather about this. The only thing he ever told me was “marry a girl with the Irish in her. It’s the best thing you could do.” My great grandfather passed away while I was in Highschool. My grandfather passed away in college. After the funeral I went to the house and looked for the family Bible. I had held it in my hand four times in three years. It was gone. I have never found it again. My Dad has special needs, his mom has dementia. The rest of my Dad’s family has never spoken to me after the funeral. It may be because I married a Black person. Maybe not. I will never know.

One time while driving through my mom’s side of the family’s hometown I saw a church sign that had the family name on it. I asked why we never went there and she just casually said “that must belong to the Black families that live here that share our last name”. I was floored by this. We had a black side of the family? What!? She was quick to tell me that they were in no way related. It was just that the family was as old as we were and had lived in that town as long as we had. My family has lived there and owned land there since before the Civil War. I have been digging into the genealogy based on what she has told me and after two or three generations the family line with our last name seems to disappear. Two white branches of the family go back eight or so generations and seem to have married into the family three generations or so back but there don’t seem to be any birth or death records in their town that support her story that the family had been there for a very long time. There is no not-slave-owning explanation for this. To this day my grandmother refuses to talk about it. She leans into the Scots-Irish side of the story.

In grad school when I first met Dana they made sure to do two things: Tell a very wrong Obama joke and then ask me what I was mixed with. The joke was to see if I reacted to the joke in a ”white way” (their words). If I did they would never feel comfortable being alone with me ever much less date me. The second question is because they saw what every other Black person I know saw. I told them what I knew about the probable Black man on my Dad’s side and my theory about my Mom's side. They kinda looked flabbergasted. Like they were surprised I admitted it.

Dana and I fell hard in love and spent three years trying to do the long-distance relationship thing. We had very long talks about race and whiteness. We had to have massive discussions about privilege and culture. I had reading lists and albums and homework that I had to do and Dana readily admits that in a lot of ways I already ”got it”. However, it was never enough. They wanted me to make a conscious decision to marry into a black family and know what I was getting into.

In August of 2014, I had just gotten back from spending a summer with Dana and I was using my hour before work to buy an engagement ring. I had two months to move to NJ so that we could start a job together. I heard on the news that Michael Brown was shot by a white cop in Ferguson. It hit me like a ton of bricks. It was the first time that the weight of what I was doing rang home in the deepest parts of me. I was marrying a Black person. At the time I wanted to bring children into this world. It finally dawned on me that those children were going to be Black. Just as the math in my childhood was Black nose+white skin=white guy the calculus done in a cop’s head was not going to add up well for our children. I worked at a church so I went to the altar and prayed. I prayed for a whole hour. I got the ring and moved to NJ. Dana and I were married five months later. I never looked back.

Why am I saying this now? Because white supremacy is the scourge of American Theatre. It's the reason why our Asian American artists are afraid to walk the streets at night. It's the reason why our Black artists are having to stand up and form their coalitions to get work done without a ”white yes”. It's the reason why even though I have photographic proof that the Cis males in my family have slowly gotten paler with every generation and that I know with absolute certainty that there is a Black contribution to my heritage somewhere that they locked it down and hid it from me like it was a crime (and it was until Loving V. Virginia, the very state my Dad's side of the family hails from). They appear to have bred as much of it out of me as possible by marrying women with ”Irish” in them. I feel like I was force-fed the blue pill and sidelined from my culture. I will never be black. I’m not even trying to be. I am just sickened that something that every Black person I’ve met can see may or may not come from a heritage that was stolen from me and hidden so well I can probably only prove it with a DNA test.

Whiteness is not a culture, it is an allergic reaction to the existence of BIPOC contributions to American life. It is cancer in our American Theatre and we have predominantly white institutions that are standing out like tumors in our cultural landscape. I am singularly focused on rooting them out not just because I'm married to a BIPOC artist. I'm rooting them out so that I can claim all of my cultures so that I can make reparations for the harm that has happened in my personal history. To create me BIPOC heritage may have had to be bred out and hidden and I may never be able to prove it. The sheer insinuation is enough to sicken me. I will uncover it and amplify my ancestors’ stories if I can find them. I will create a culture where this doesn't have to happen again. It ends with me.

**************Similar Posts*************

https://rickyyoung-howze.tumblr.com/post/620134497865842688/our-promise-to-theatre

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#theatre #nj #theatrelives #blm movement #black lives matter #endwhiteprivilege #end white supremacy #end white terrorism

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magicismighthq · 3 years

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“We were safe, we were safe in our haven. And little feet ran around in the garden, but then we learnt, we learnt about grieving. And all was gone, like the garden of Eden.”

What happens when the daughter of a conservative preacher gets her Hogwarts letter? Nothing good. Parents who won’t let their children read The Hobbit or listen to rock music don’t usually take too kindly to being told that their oldest daughter is a witch.

Ester Campbell was born to the muggles Rev. John Campbell and Lori Campbell on June 15th 1956. Her parents raised her to be the perfect preacher’s kid. She was homeschooled from the beginning with her three younger siblings, Sarah, Andrew, and Matthew. They didn’t have a tv or listen to the radio and they rarely saw people from outside of their small community. Her whole future was planned out for her, but she didn’t know any different. In the summer after her eleventh birthday there was a knock on the door of her family home. When her mother finally answered it after calming a crying Matthew and telling Andrew for the fifth time of put away his toys, she found a young Minerva McGonagall dressed in her robes and pointed hat. Playing her roll as the preachers wife, Lori invited her visitor in for tea. When it was discovered that the Professor was here to discuss her oldest child and magic, though she asked McGonagall to leave. Later that evening when Ester’s father had come home, the peculiar visitor returned with Professor Slughorn, but John sent the two of them away, so the letters began to come. First one or two, but soon they were as common as dirt. TW child abuse, religious trauma The next week Ester and her parents had a meeting to discuss the letters, but went Ester told her parents that she thought it might be fun to go and study magic, all hell broke loose. Her mother burst into tears, crying about wanting her daughter with her in heaven. Her father grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out the door and all the way to the curb, telling her to come back until she was willing to accept Jesus back into her heart. End TW Ester was only alone for ten minutes when the Knight Bus pulled up. She had concerns about the strangers, but she took a risk and climbed aboard, watching the light from her sister’s window as she sped away. With nowhere to go and no money, she cut a deal with the driver and spent the rest of the summer as the Knight Bus Bell Hop. She learned from the other passengers as much as she could about the wizarding world until was dropped at kings cross station with a bag of clothes and books snagged from the Lost and Found. Upon arriving at Hogwarts Ester was sorted into Hufflepuff, somewhat to her relief. Though, bravery, smarts, or ambition are all nice, the one thing she needed was friends, and she got them. Surprisingly, her upbringing bore a striking resemblance to that of her new friends from wizarding families, since she was somewhat isolated in a small community. From her first year on, Ester never spent a single holiday at Hogwarts. Instead, she is invited to stay with different friends families who welcome her with open arms, though the summer was usually divided between three or four families and occasionally she would visit on the knight boss for a night or two and sometimes when business was light, she was even allowed to drive when she got older. As Ester started to think about life after Hogwarts, she felt utterly lost. A rebellion from the lessons of her parents caused her to fall into some of the party scene of the Hogwarts underside, not that there’s anything wrong with that exactly, and she gained a reputation as a little bit of a stoner. She found herself caught between her newfound persona as a relaxed, gillyweed smoking, Herbology and Divination focused, artsy teen, and an anxious child who was disowned by her family and is struggling to see what her life after Hogwarts will look like. Upon graduation she turned to the closest thing she had to a home away from Hogwarts in the last seven years and got a job driving for the Knight Bus. Since working on the bus, the work has been increasingly risky with the political changes. The Knight Bus had already been widely criticized for being derived from Muggle technology by more conservative wizards. She wasn’t at all surprised that as a muggle born she was marked as a code 3 as a muggle born, but it has certainly kept her on her toes. Between drop offs, she has been trying to track down the Order herself, with the intent of aiding them, but between their secrecy and her own she has made very little progress. Stuck between a wizard and a muggle world who have disowned her, Ester has no choice but to keep driving, keep moving, and keep bringing a bed and a warm drink to the wizards and witches who need it most.

↳ Played by: Cel ↳ Faceclaim: Hailee Steinfeld

#Ester Campbell #Code: 3 #affiliation: neutral #status: taken

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pandemonshq · 4 years

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Welcome, Destinee, please grab your stake on your way to your tumblr to play Daphne Greengrass here at Pandemons. We were thrilled to see how you created a brilliant family history and dynamic for Daphne—the divorce, her family connections, and how her history feeds into her choices. And her job as a translator? Inevitably going to get her (and you) broiled in more trouble than expected here.

Your request for michaela conlin. // jessica henwick FCs have been accepted.

OOC

Name: destinee.

Preferred Pronouns: she/her, they/them

Age: twenty-four.

Timezone: est.

Activity Level: if you to ask me for one of those out of ten scores i’d probably give myself about a six. i really enjoy roleplaying but i have some chronic problems that occasionally put me out of commission. i’m typically online in the late afternoon and at night.

IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

Character’s Name: daphne greengrass.

Bloodstatus: pureblood.

Birthday: october 4th, 1979.

Gender and Sexuality: cis female, bi-romantic, demisexual.

Former Hogwarts House: slytherin.

Infection: no.

Faceclaim: michaela conlin. // jessica henwick.

SHORT HEADCANON TOPICS

Occupation:

translator.

daphne has always been a bright girl, though she was never the type to flaunt it. she was never the type to draw unnecessary attention to herself, preferring to slip by in the shadows - she was perfectly content to let others take the spotlight, and the blame.

still, she did love to know things. she was quite fond of history, and loved to know the stories behind mysterious artifacts and lost treasures. on sleepless nights, she has always been found curled up in the corner of a library, reading whatever happened to catch her eye.

it was her desire to read books and inscriptions that lead to the discovery of her talent for languages. she taught herself what she could for awhile, and then she turned to her parents, begging for lessons in any language that could be taught. her parents shrugged their shoulders, and let their daughter do as she pleased. unsatisfied with simply learning french and german and russian and latin, she threw herself into the study of ancient and beast languages, and found herself among one of the few with an affinity for such things.

daphne dreamed of putting her talent to good use - of traveling the world writing journals, or translating ancient inscriptions for cursebreakers. but then her parents announced that they’d found her a husband, and daphne put her dreams on the shelf to be the lovely, loyal housewife she was expected to be.

one of the first things she did after her divorce was finalized was dust off those dreams of hers. daphne has translated ancient texts and read the inscriptions of golden sarcophagi. she has translated for ministry officials as they delicately negotiated peace with magical beings, and been the helping hand to reunite frightened tourists with their lost children. she’s quite proud of her skill and of her work.

Marital Status/Ships:

daphne remembers clearly how it felt, to sit in the common room surrounded by happy, giggling girls and not understand. whenever her friends would gossip about boys, or gush over an attractive stranger, daphne would sit in silence. she learned fairly quickly that her friends found it odd that she didn’t seem to like boys, so she learned to smile and pretend to get it, but most of the time she just didn’t. when one of her friends had confided in her that she liked girls, daphne wondered if that was perhaps why she didn’t get it … but then, she found she didn’t really understand when her friends gossiped about girls, either.

pansy would talk about draco more often than anyone wanted to hear, and for long time, it went in one ear and out the other for daphne. but then she met him, and an offhand remark became the odd conversation became a friendship. and daphne finally started to get it. because she liked draco. more than she liked anyone - or, more accurately, differently than she liked anyone else. the trouble was that pansy liked draco, and pansy was the leader of their little clique. daphne had always been taught the importance of social circles, and so she never said a word.

daphne met a girl in the library in her fifth year; a ravenclaw with a thirst for knowledge that rivaled her own and a delightfully snarky attitude. they started dating in sixth year, and their relationship held strong through the turmoil and tragedy of the war and it’s aftermath. but then her parents reminded her that she wasn’t a child anymore, and it was time she started looking for an appropriate match. daphne crushed her own heart in her hands and ended the relationship, and she quietly fears that she’ll never recover.

daphne is still raw and aching when she finds out about astoria and draco. it brings a flash of old feelings to the surface, but once more, she stomps it down. she puts on a smile, and she supports her sister at every turn. it isn’t too long after that her parents nudge her in the direction of the wizard they’ve deemed her proper match - a frenchman with a handsome face and a flawless pedigree. daphne hopes something will spark between them, but it never really does. she marries him anyway, because it’s what her parents want.

the marriage is a disaster. they have nothing in common, except for regrets. they argue over what restaurants to visit, how daphne should do her hair, whether daphne should be allowed to work. he sleeps around, but truthfully, she couldn’t care less. the moment she finds out she’s pregnant, she’s more than happy to kick him out of her bed entirely. she’s only obligated to supply him one heir, after all.

their daughter is born, and daphne falls in love. cynthia instantly becomes the center of her whole world. her husband is not so impressed. he insists he wants a son, but daphne isn’t having any of it. the relationship devolves even further, and daphne sees less and less of her husband as the months roll by. cynthia is three years old when things hit a boiling point. her husband strikes her during an argument, and daphne is enraged. she draws her wand and forcibly hurls him out of the house, and sends his things flying after him. daphne will put up with a lot of things for the sake of her family’s reputation, but not this. he returns to france, and daphne at last feels free.

romance is the last thing on daphne’s mind these days. a single mother with a career doesn’t have much time to fuss about those things, especially when they’ve never been particularly fussed in the first place. now that her sister has fallen ill, she has even less time to think about it. she has to be there for her daughter, her sister, her nephew, and for draco. just because she isn’t thinking about it, though, doesn’t mean it might not surprise her. old flames and new could be hiding around any corner.

MULTIPARAGRAPH OR MULTI-POINT TOPICS

Family

Father | Nestor Greengrass. the greengrass family is one of the truest, purest bloodlines around, and sure, that’s something to be proud of - but more importantly, that’s something to take advantage of. nestor is as crafty as a salesman can be, and he knows how to market himself and the shop. he’s carefully crafted and maintained the ideal reputation; the perfect balance of shady and trustworthy. money is truly his main motivation for nearly everything he does. he’s always encouraged his children to be intelligent, sly, and greedy. he’s certainly a selfish man, but one that does care for his family. whether or not he cares about them more than he cares for himself, though, is rather hard to tell.

Mother | Meilin Greengrass. meilin has certain expectations. there are ways that people should and should not behave. there are obligations that people must fulfill, and duties they must complete. of course people are not perfect. little mistakes may be made from time to time. the young will stray from the path every now and again, but they simply need to be guided back into their place. she has always fully expected her daughters to fall perfectly in line - and the fact that things are so imperfect? that their perfect perfect reputation has been blemished? it infuriates her.

Sister | Astoria Malfoy. daphne’s relationship with her family is a bit … complicated, but she has always loved her little sister with all of her heart. from the time they were small, daphne has always tried to look after astoria, to be the best big sister she can be. she’s always wanted to be someone astoria could look up to, and it’s motivated her a lot in her life. when she found out her sister had fallen ill, she was devastated.

Daughter | Cynthia Greengrass. daphne never really thought much about being a mother. she supposes she’s always been a bit mother; she can recall the many times her sister would roll her eyes and say, “okay, mom” or the way pansy would sometimes groan and snap “you aren’t my mother.” she’s always known that she would have kids one day. it was one of her responsibilities, after all. continue the family line. but she still didn’t really think about it. even throughout her pregnancy, daphne didn’t really think of herself as a mother. she felt more like a bloated bus than anything else. but then she held her daughter in her arms for the first time, and it felt like the world shifted. her daughter is her sun and her sky and all of the stars. she would do anything to keep cynthia safe, and to make her happy. and if anyone were to threaten her sweet, wonderful little girl … she wouldn’t rest until they paid for it.

Childhood/Hogwarts

most people would say knockturn alley is no place for children, but to daphne, it’s simply home. she had spent her early years young and fearless, running down cobblestone streets, dodging the hags that often lurked in the crowds, admiring the dark artifacts her father sold, spying on the illicit clinic her mother ran. perhaps it warped her perspective a bit; perhaps she doesn’t always fear things that she should; but no one can deny that it’s blessed her with nerves of steel.

daphne is a little surprised to be sorted into slytherin. she had thought herself a bit more like her ravenclaw mother than her slytherin father, but she fits easily into the ranks. daphne attaches herself to pansy parkinson within the first few weeks of their first year. pansy is a bigot and a bully and a pureblood, and daphne knows immediately she wants to behind her and not in her way.

daphne makes friends and she gets good grades, but she’s never the center of attention, and that’s the way she likes it. it’s much easier to get away with breaking rules when people are paying more attention to the troublemakers; and people are much more forgiving when they have a worse example to compare you to.

hogwarts becomes a home away from home for her. she finds a sense of peace and simple joy there that she just doesn’t have at home. she loves her parents, she truly does, but that doesn’t mean they were truly good parents. her mother’s presence feels almost crushing sometimes; like her expectations have a physical weight and they’ve perched themselves right on daphne’s lungs and when she fails it feels like she can’t breathe. no one looks at her like they’re waiting for her to fail at hogwarts.

that peace is shattered by voldemort’s return. she watches the people around her change; sees the way the pressure warps and twists them, the way some of them just crack and chip away. suddenly it feels like everyone is watching everyone all the time; constantly on a knife’s edge. she knows what side she’s supposed to be on, but she can’t help but just want it all to end, no matter who wins.

daphne tries to be the sturdy one. she tries to be there for people, do whatever little thing she can for them. sit with them, talk with them, bring them tea, steal sweets from the kitchens. she knows how the rest of the school has started to feel about slytherins - even the ones who don’t deserve it. if no one else will be here for them, she’ll do it all herself.

Post Hogwarts

daphne is exhausted and the world around her is in shambles. she tries to be there for her family and for her friends - for the ones that are left, as they try to put the pieces back together. it doesn’t feel like enough. she doesn’t feel the same anymore. she can’t imagine how the others must feel. the ones who were truly in the middle of it.

she finds happiness in the brief moments she can spend alone with her girlfriend, just the two of them, peaceful and quiet. her mother tells her it’s about time she end her little fling, and daphne’s heart sinks to the floor. her mother reminds her that she must have known this relationship wouldn’t last long. her girlfriend was a half-blood, after all, and not fit for marriage. daphne does as she’s told. her girlfriend doesn’t understand, and daphne can’t blame her.

she sinks into a deep depression after the messy end of her relationship, and finds that she can’t stand to be alone with her thoughts - or with her mother. she starts making anonymous donations to charities and to projects to help rebuild. she throws herself back into learning languages and reading books. she avoids the world.

it’s astoria’s announcement of her engagement to draco that shakes daphne out of her daze. she has a few mixed emotions. it feels a little odd to see her sister engaged to her old crush; it feels a bit painful to see her sister engaged at all, after the end of her relationship. but more than anything … astoria didn’t tell her. all of their lives they had trusted each other with everything, and yet her baby sister hadn’t told her she was going to be engaged? for a moment, she’s angry. and then she realizes that it’s her fault. she’d been pushing her sister away without even realizing it.

daphne puts all of her energy into working through her depression after that. she’s determined to be there for her sister, come hell or high water. she reappears in the social scene, starts to go out with friends again, and ignores her mother a little less.

she’s introduced to her future husband not too long after her sister’s engagement, and they attend the wedding together. astoria doesn’t like him much, but daphne thinks he’s tolerable, and their mother seems very keen that they date. daphne regrets not taking her sister’s doubts more seriously, looking back on it.

daphne is a reluctant and miserable housewife for the course of their marriage. the birth of their daughter brightens her life; she loves being a mother. but she only hates her husband more.

the day her divorce was finalized she used her wand to send up fireworks in the street and laughed like she hadn’t laughed in years. she was free, and goddamnit, she was going to be happy.

she loves her work, and she loves her daughter. being a single working mother suits her far better than being a married housewife ever did. she’s happier than she’s ever been in her life … and then her sister falls ill, and daphne wonders if the sky will ever stop crashing down on her.

Current

daphne only really has one priority these days, and that priority is her family’s well-being.

daphne tries not to worry cynthia. she’s only a child, after all. she should be enjoying her time at hogwarts, not weighed down by tragedy. she knows she can’t keep cynthia completely in the dark; she’s a smart kid, and she’s very close to her cousin. still, daphne can ease her mind with sugar coated words and gentle promises … even if they so often taste like bitter lies.

whenever daphne has the time to read, she spends it pouring over anything and everything that might possibly help her sister. her reputation and skill set gives her access to a lot of unusual material, and she hopes one day it will help her dear sister.

she spends a lot of time with her daughter and with scorpius, always happy to look after her nephew or offer a helping hand to her sister and her husband. she loves scorpius as much as she loves her own daughter, and she’s promised her sister she would look after him.

she’s also promised to look after draco, and that’s proving much more of a challenge. she worries about him getting into trouble, crossing the wrong line, catching the wrong person’s attention. she wants to protect him, like she promised she would, but at the same time - how could she ever ask him to take a step back? she’s as desperate to cure her sister as he is; but she doesn’t want to lose him in the process, either.

Plots

i would love for daphne’s talents as a translator to come in handy for a plot, or plots. it’s an interesting passion of hers, and i love the idea of people coming to her to translate old writing, or ancient inscriptions, or people or magical beings.

daphne was the absolute mom of slytherin, but she also dropped off the map for awhile after the war. i would love to have her reconnect with old friends, or at least try to. bonus points if daphne still gets to mother them.

give me messy, complicated relationships please. romantic and platonic. i’m here for that shit.

potentially interested in the absolute panic of daphne being temporarily infected but we’ll see how things go.

daphne’s got a lot of money to throw around and i like the idea of someone approaching her to invest in something - some kind of charity, big event, business. they would need to win her over, of course, but it’d be interesting to have daphne really show her social/business/money skills.

daphne’s wanted to have more kids ever since she had cynthia, so that might come up at some point. whether she goes through with it, and how she goes about it, would depend entirely on how things end up happening in the roleplay.

Other

usually i have a pinterest board read before hand but it’s 2 am right now and i need to crash, so here is where the pinterest board will be. hopefully i put some stuff in it before y'all see it but if not … i’ll link it again later or something.

#urinfected

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hennesseyok · 4 years

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ummm hi !! so i’m nori n i’ve been outta the rp game for a hot minute but miss rona has me without shit to do so im back !! plz excuse this literal garbage intro but we out here !! i am so down to plot the fck outta her ( she needs bandmates for her band ... n also a name ... ahem ... ) n honestly am v open to anything, so plzZz dont hesistate to message me on here (im not hip with the kids so i dont have discord ??? yet ??? ) n e wayz heres my cutie sadboy babie hennessey eeek !! i love this group already ah !!

kristen stewart. cis woman. she/her. ❝ can you hear painfully obvious by harmless coming from apartment # 408 ? that must mean hennessey rhodes is home. the twenty-six year old is currently a member of a local band and they live with 2 roommates. they’ve been living in the village for four years and residents have gathered the scorpio’s enigmatic yet detached demeanor. ❞ nori. 21. she/her. gmt -6.

s t a t i s t i c s full name: hennessey leighanne rhodes nicknames: rhodes, h, hez, daddy [ anything thats not “henny” lol she hates that name eek ] dob: oct 25 1993 sign: ☼ scorpio, ☾ scorpio, ↑ capricorn sexuality: queer [ wlw, nblw ] birthplace: new albany, mississippi known languages: english, some bayou french siblings: none a e s t h e t i c s + pinterest drunken walks home from the bar, matching stick n poke tattoos, worn in band tees, red-tinted bedroom lights, unmade beds, empty swimming pools at 3 am, sunrises on apartment rooftops, shelves of filled leatherbound notebooks, lightwash denim, half wiped off sharpies on skin, bruised knuckles on soft hands, blood pacts with best friends, freshly bleached hair, gentle forehead kisses, the smell of vanilla and tobacco b i o ☆ the child of two born again evangelical christians in the small town of new albany, ms, hennessey was brought into a world of devout religion and an “all american” mentality ☆ located in northern mississippi near the tallehatchie river, new albany had a population of just under 7,000 when hennessey was born. being in the bible belt of america, mississippi had a ruthless reputation for homophobia, transphobia, and racism. all things that hennessey was brought up surrounded by. ☆ her parents were through and through rednecks that tried to get their lives on track after her mother was knocked up at 19 [ thus her name… ahem ] ☆ the early years of her life were spent fully devoted the church, she was baptized at birth and was fully indoctrinated into her religion until her freshman year of highschool ☆ hennessey starting experiencing same gender attraction as early as she can remember, but never acted on anything until junior year. after a local high school party she found herself in the bedroom of the town preachers daughter. ☆ a whirlwind romance began, the two were inseparable and were thought to be the best of friends by everyone in town. but, when playing with fire, someone is bound to get burned. or the whole town can go up in flames, and that’s exactly what happened. ☆ the two were walked in on one night and it was enough to strike the match. all of new albany was disgusted and enraged; they wanted the rhodes family out of their town, even going so far as to claim that the devil had come in the form of the family to destroy the good people of mississippi. ☆ excommunicated by her family, she finished highschool at 18 and took of running as fast as she could. she bought the cheapest bus ticket she could afford, and landed on the couch of a local blues musician in nashville, tn. he took her in and taught her everything he knew about music and, by proxy, black culture. ☆ after leaving new albany, her worldview shifted foundationally. she’s been in and out of central booking on riot and protest charges, so she’s pretty much stuck doing this music thing due to her criminal record ☆ from the ages of 19 to 22 she spent between nashville, atlanta, brooklyn and detroit, playing music, going on benders, and getting between the sheets of as many girls as she could [ she basically went on a rampage lol ] in the process she picked up a pretty gnarly coke habit that she’s still trying to shake. so she says, at least. ☆ she landed in new york where she finally started a semi-successful band and decided she wanted to start building a life n thats when she ended up here !! q u i c k f a c t s ok imma try to wrap this up cus i know its getting long lol but n e wayz heres like a tl;dr summary ☆ grew up in a racist, homophobic, backwards town; was outed for being gay and hasn’t spoken to her parents since she was 18 ☆ she’s a v talented musician and her rising in capricorn makes her want to be successful as fuck, even if she has to do some shady shit to get there ☆ she started a band and their mild success landed her in brooklyn. she needs bandmates !! i purposely didn’t name the band so connections could help make it a #Band.... ehehe ☆ she’s a ride or die friend and 10000% one of the #boiz, you can usually find her doing some dumb shit with her best friends. once u have her loyalty, she’ll be by your side no matter what happens ☆ v flirty. like, will flirt until u invite her back to ur place only to bail and go hang with her bandmates lol. ☆ she finds it hard to open up [ i know… how fuckin CLICHE ] but all she wants is someone to actually hold her n tell her that its okay not to be okay ??? give me that soft gay shit ??? ☆ shes a lil bit of a player but only becus she’s bored. its never her intention to hurt someone but girls often get attached and her scorpio ass isn’t the best at letting em down easy ☆ once she left, hennessey basically tried to shed all trace of her hometown from her, but she has a slight mississippi twang to her accent that only comes out when she’s really mad or rly close with someone [ she hates it sm and hates when ppl comment on it lol ] ☆ she’s forever writing songs, like 9 times out of ten if u cant find her, shes prob holed up in her bedroom, cigarette in hand, writing some sappy shit about a girl she hooked up w after her latest show [ kiiiinda wanna do a plot w someone she’s super into but the person couldnt give less of a fck about her ?? like yes bithc we love a role reversal ]

um ya thats it i will def be developing her way more i know this is so shit but im tryin my best here plz dont read me if shit don’t add up. love yall hehe. also plz plot w her she needs besties and hookups and love interests !!

#hi??? um #pls plot w my queer bean hennessey #also invite me to ur discords #i still dk what that is but YES #ily all already #villageintro

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mutantsrisingrpg · 4 years

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Congratulations DYLAN! You’ve been accepted as NIX.

Dylan, it didn’t take me long while reading your app to be sucked in right away. The last paragraph in your analysis really honed in on who Luke is. He’s still a scared boy that doesn’t know what will happen when he let’s go of all restraint - and boy can we not wait to find out what does happen. The way you weaved Isabel into his backstory left me swooning, two children with no family holding onto each other even while separated? My poor heart couldn’t handle it! We’re so, so excited to have you and Luke on the dash!

Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.

Out of Character Information:

NAME/ALIAS: Dylan

PRONOUNS: He/Him

AGE: 22

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: GMT. 6/7 Days

In Character Information:

DESIRED ROLE: Luke Espinosa aka Nix

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Cis Male, He/Him

DETAILS & ANALYSIS:

My first impression of Luke Espinosa is someone who doesn’t know how to deal with his emotions and scars. He buries them deep. And whenever they try to resurface, he needs to snuff the thoughts out. He achieves this by either trying to distract himself in The Jungle by shoving his fist in someone’s face or having a fist shoved into his own. He has also learnt how to use his bottled up emotions to fan the flames and allow his powers to be that much more chaotic.

However, Luke is not lost and with purpose and his family, he always finds a golden edge to every grey cloud. To him, his family are the first rays of sun to return after the eclipse that was his emotions smothering his judgement.

Luke was made the weapon for a reason, and he is very much aware of how destructive he can be. He has a grip on his powers but deep inside he’s afraid, afraid of what might happen to the ones he loved if he let go. He dreads the day that Alma Rosario orders him to let loose.

BIO:

TW: Child Abuse

Maria Espinosa. What a beautiful woman, skin glowing and smile radiating. You’d never guess that her fiance left her at the alter the day of her wedding nor that she had to raise Luke all by herself, working around the clock just to support the two of them. Luke adored his mother and there was nothing in this world he wouldn’t do for her.

It was when Maria fell ill that the darkness in Luke’s life began to sink in. Luke would kneel on the stone floor outside his mother’s bedroom as the doctor consulted her, worries of medicines and costs floating through the crack of the slightly opened door. His mom did everything for him, and he was going to get her the meds. But how? That night, the planets aligned, but unfortunately not towards Luke’s advantage. He had broken into a pharmaceutical drug store and had the medication in his hands when the front of the store exploded and a group of masked men barged in, breaking and destroying everything in their path. You see, what Luke didn’t know was that that particular store was owned by a mutant, and the men that had just smashed through the storefront were a notorious anti-mutant gang. They found the kid quacking behind the cashier’s desk and took him into their ‘protection’. He guest it was simply because they didn’t want loose ends or someone to rat them out to the police, but honestly, he had no idea why the man had insisted on taking him with them.

Luke never saw his mother again, nor whether or not she was alive. The gang had taken him out of town, past the borders of his little known world and into what he’d soon learn to be a hostile world full of hate. He was forced to do odd jobs for the gang here and there, little did he know that his actions were having a negative impact on a community he was a part of. It wasn’t until he was asked to place an explosive in a mutant friendly park that he refused to do the job. He was only 7 at the time and the thought of doing what he was asked to do made him sick. He had learnt a lot with the couple of months he had been with the gang, enough to understand what their agenda was. And even though he wasn’t able to form an opinion of his own just yet, he knew that hurting so many people and kids was wrong. Of course, his non-compliance was met by a slap to the face at first and then a fist to the stomach. Luke dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face. It wasn’t until he was kicked in his side that his eyes lit up with a golden glow, and with a rage inside him he had never felt before, a solar blast left his hand, missing the man beating him up but giving him the chance he needed to escape. He ran as far as his legs could carry him until he dropped. He then spent a day or two on the streets, trying to fend for himself and constantly in fear that the gang he had slipped from would find and kill him. That’s when he walked into the police station and reported what the gang had asked him to do, including providing the police with a few names and local hangouts. When the police asked him how he had escaped, Luke ignorantly mentioned his powers. That night he found himself in a foster home for mutant kids.

Luke tended to keep to himself whilst in the home. People would whisper about his bruises he had recently acquired but other than that, he was able to fall into the shadows. He wasn’t like other mutants that had a ‘mark’ or couldn’t fit in. He looked, seemed, and felt normal, other than the fact that the sun shone out his palms. It wasn’t until he witnessed a girl with pink hair being bullied that he decided to take a stand and stepped in, facing down the bully. This, of course, earned him a beating that night, but he’d never tell Isabel that. She was now his family, and he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. He couldn’t save his mom, but he could look after his new-found sister.

Isabel left first, girls normally were adopted before boys, well, that was his observation anyway. Although that didn’t stop them from seeing each other. A couple of months later, Luke was adopted by a couple that seemed to not be able to have kids by themselves. He lived a good life with them, but he noticed how they would always flinch at the mention of mutants on the news and how dangerous they could be. They had asked him what his gifts were in which he lied, saying that all he could do was hold his breath for really long. He didn’t want them to think that he was a fire hazard with a heartbeat. It was obvious that they weren’t pro-mutant, perhaps they only adopted him because they couldn’t qualify to adopt a ‘normal’ kid. He had a bad feeling in his bones and he woke up every morning fearing that he’d wake up to an empty house or worse, anti-mutant activist knocking on his door. He felt like the couple that had adopted him would not hesitate to turn him in.

It wasn’t until Isabel suggested running away that the thought even crossed his mind. Although it might not seem like it, Luke wasn’t one to run away, when it came to fight or flight, his instincts told him to fight, but he also wasn’t ignorant and could recognize what was best. And with that, they ran away together. They used Isabel’s ability to create portals to portal to the bus station and caught the first available bus to Chicago, an up and coming city that was supposed to be safe for mutants. Isabel took the lead, it was her plan after all, and soon enough they came across the Blackburn Syndicate, a group of mutants that were supposed to be a safe haven for mutant kind. They met with a mutant called Alma and Isabel showed off her tricks, but unfortunately drained herself and passed out. Luke caught her and when he was asked what he could do, he hesitated. He hadn’t used his powers for a couple of years, he had felt the anger and rage build silently within and was worried what would happen if he let it out. However, in this situation, what choice did he have? He took a deep breath and aimed at an empty wall. He felt the air around him shimmer with heat and just when he thought he’d truly lost his powers, a beam of light erupted from his palms and seared the wall he was aiming at. He tried to stop but the emission of energy felt orgasmic and part of him didn’t want to stop. The force caught up with him and propelled him across the room, the beams veering upwards and melting a few steel beams that supported the roof of the structure they were in. Finally, the energy wained and the roaring heat stopped. His arms dropped to his side as he desperately tried to catch his breath. He felt the presence of Alma loom over him and flinched, expecting some kind of physical reprimand, but when he looked up, there was a simple smirk on the others face as a hand stretched out to lift him up.

From that day, he and Isabel found a place where he felt like he truly belonged. Sure, he was aware that he had become the syndicates newest toy, but that didn’t bother him as long as he had Isabel. He had found a place where he felt accepted and safe for the first time since his mother’s arms. Luke promised himself he’d do everything and anything to ensure that it stayed that way.

EXPANDED CONNECTIONS:

Isabel Acosta. What could he say? The girl went from someone he felt empathy for to being his closest friend in life. Sure, they didn’t always agree, but if they ever argued, guilt would overwhelm him instantly and an apology would soon follow. The two were inseparable from the day they had met. She had been there for him when he needed her and he had always tried his best to be there for her. Isabel had that kind of energy, an energy so in sink with his own that he couldn’t help but smile when she was around. The two moved into an apartment together as soon as they could afford it. Their relationship was platonic of course, and Isabel filled the hole that his mother had left. She was a sister, and as much as he hated her, he loved her equally. That’s what sibling relationships were like anyway.

Isaac Castilla. Luke was sceptical at first. An outsider in their home. Isaac would either tear them apart like a cancer or become a member of their family and it would one day feel weird to not have him around. Isabel trusted him, and soon enough, Luke grew to trust the boy too. Actually, soon enough, Luke grew quiet fond of Isaac. He was a little brother he never had. He made sure to always spend time with the guy when he could and tried to make his life as comfortable as possible. Luke was never one to talk about emotions but he hoped that he had made it clear to Isaac that he was welcome. Luke tended to call Isaac ‘Kid’, which of course, Isaac was no longer a kid, but with the age difference between them, he used it more of a tease than anything else. As much as he enjoyed Isaac’s company, he couldn’t help but think about the kind of hell he’d wreak against Isaac if he ever did something to harm the families well being.

EXTRA:

I’m not really sure what to put here, but here are a few things:

I imagined that Luke finished school but never went to college or university. Instead, he spent a lot of time teaching himself and reading books from the library. He learnt what he wanted to learn and as quickly, or slowly, as he wanted too. One of his favourite studies included that of light and colour.

I also imagine that when he was younger, Luke spoke Spanish with his mother. He isn’t as fluent as he’d like to be as he didn’t have further education past the age of 7, but sometimes when he’s frustrated, a few cuss words he heard his neighbours say would pop up.

Luke’s blood is golden, to an extent that it looks like liquid gold. He discovered this when he was a child and tried to make sure he never cut himself while at his foster home, and if he got into a fight, he’d try and patch himself up before he got home.

Luke is bisexual. He’s never really had the chance to express his feelings or sexuality with anyone really. He’d always been so busy fending for himself, looking out for Isabel or trying to hide himself to even think about having a real relationship with anyone.

Here is a Pinterest board I just started: https://pin.it/6UjTNgP

I’d like to write my own aesthetic that compliments yours:

“Breathe. Feel the sun on your skin, close your eyes. The calm breeze, the warmth seeping into your cold skin and rejuvenating you. This is the calm before the solar storm. Soon a darkness inside ignites a flame so strong that it begins to burn from within. Anger fans the flame, pain ignites like gasoline. The sun is beautiful and it burns. It fuels itself, exploding over and over, yet it’s rays give life to the rock that is this planet. This is Luke Espinosa. An explosive wreck that fuels their own anger and pain yet brightens the life of those around him. Careful, fly too close and your wings might get burnt.”

ANYTHING ELSE: Nope!

#accepted: nix #Accepted

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