Jaime

Dan Powell is seven years old and if he’s certain of one thing it’s that he loves stories.

Not quite the same way as Mark. Mark prefers his words drenched in the mud and grit of the reality he thinks is true.

“Doesn’t it make the stories taste bad?” Dan asks, “Doesn’t it make them grind against your teeth and cut against your tongue?”

Mark just laughs. “I can stomach it. It’s way cooler than all that unreality fluff you like.”

Dan laughs but inside he’s frowning. The stories he likes are real. It’s just that what he counts as reality and what Mark does must be very different things.

Dan likes stories about odd things. He likes stories about monsters and cults and old, old gods. He likes weird. The stories don’t have to have a hero either, Dan is perfectly happy without a happy ending, just so long as there is an ending. When Dan starts a story leaving it unfinished has never been an option. When his parents read him bedtime stories, always a chapter at a time, he picks the book up once they leave and gets through as much as possible before passing out with the book falling wide open over his face.

Dan like stories and he likes endings and he likes weird. So when he overhears some people on the subway talking about the Visser Building and the odd happenings within, he can hardly not go searching for the endings of that tale.

The next day he walks down seedier streets than any seven year old should really be walking down to get to the Visser Building. He wonders if it’s odd that he didn’t need to look at any maps before coming here. It’s probably normal, he decides, I’m just good at finding odd things.

Dan is good at finding all the stories at the school library that probably shouldn’t be available to children as young as him and no one finds that strange. This is just more of the same.

As he walks into the Visser Building an overwhelming feeling of rightness comes over Dan. This is where you’re meant to be, it whispers, stay here forever and all will be right, right, right, it sings. Dan thinks the whispers make a very good point but he has to be home for dinner otherwise his parents will worry. So he won’t stay. This time.

He walks through the corridors. Some of them feel like mazes. Some of them tilt downwards so harshly that they feel like slides. All of them are new and interesting and definitely full of stories. Dan turns on the tape recorder he stole from his Dad. Mark is always going on about how a journalist needs a good record of everything that happens and this feels like the sort of story Dan is going to need to replay to fully understand.

“This is Dan Powell recording.” he says into it, trying to sound as serious and adult as he can. There isn’t really anything else for him to say after that since all the things he’s feeling are too new and unexplainable to put words to so he just lets the tape recorder go. The whirring of it is nice background noise and Dan likes the way the machine feels in his hand. Almost as if it’s a part of his hand.

Something about that thought may be significant, but before Dan can examine it too thoroughly he’s rounding a corner and face to face with a woman about to knock on a door and holding a tape recorder just like his own.

She looks surprised to see Dan. As if Dan isn’t meant to be there. Dan thinks this is a bit unfair as the woman’s presence doesn’t sing to him like the rest of the building does so she definitely isn’t meant to be there. She looks like she’s nice though and she hasn’t shouted at Dan for trespassing yet so Dan doesn’t say that. He just stands there, listening attentively to the twin whirring of two tape recorders.

“Hello,” the woman says after a moment, cautious. “I’m Melody Pendras, do you live here?”

“No. I’m Dan Powell.” Dan holds his hand out for Melody to shake since he’s sure that’s what he’s meant to do. Melody smiles as if this is a little funny but bends down and shakes Dan’s hand seriously enough that he forgives her.

“Then why are you here?”

Dan frowns. “The same reason as you.” He gestures towards her tape recorder. “I want to know the story.”

Melody starts frowning as well. “That’s a very dangerous thing to want.” she says.

“I know. It’s okay though. Getting to the end is worth it.”

Dan feels Melody re-evaluate her opinion of him. He feels the way her eyes land on him shift until it’s a lot more like how she looks at the rest of this strange, strange building. “I think you would fit in here very well.”

Dan nods in agreement. “Thanks. You wouldn’t.”

Melody laughs lightly. “I hope you’ll forgive me for finding that to be a good thing.” Dan shrugs. It’s not a good thing. It’s not a bad thing. It just is. “I need to get back to work but it was nice to meet you, Dan.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Melody. I hope your story doesn’t end badly.”

Melody looks at Dan very oddly but before she can say anything the door she had been stood in front of swings open and she becomes too caught up in greeting the occupant to notice Dan fading back into the shadows of the Visser Building.

~

Dan ends up having to leave to get home for dinner before finding anything else important. Then he has a playdate with Mark the next day. Then he goes to his school’s very small creative writing club the day after that. Then there’s a disciplinary meeting between his parents and his teacher about the somewhat disturbing story he wrote and Dan gets grounded for the rest of the week.

When Dan finally gets a chance to return to the Visser Building all that’s left is rubble and the odd blood splatter and something else.

The something else is calling to him. The whirring, crackling, spinning of a tape recorder with nothing left to record is loud in his ears despite the fact he know no one else can hear it. His hands are too small and his body too weak to lift the rubble but he aches to do so.

“You lost, kid?” a voice asks from behind Dan. He turns to see a woman who definitely doesn’t care if Dan is lost or not.

“No.” Dan pauses so that he doesn’t sound too demanding or rude. Then, “Can I have the tapes?”

The woman’s eyes narrow and Dan is struck by how unlike Melody she looks. Melody had a kind face, all arranged in the most welcoming shape. The whole time this woman has been looking at Dan she’s kept her face twisted into something mildly disgusted.

“What tapes are these?”

Dan points to the rubble. “The ones in there. They have a story on them, I need to know how it ends.”

“Huh.” the woman says, looking at Dan like an artefact in a museum. “If you were a little older I would know a lot of people who would be interested in employing you.” She tilts her head to the side as if considering Dan. “Do you like cities?”

Dan hasn’t thought on it much before but the concept of living anywhere less full of stories than New York kind of makes him want to tear his skin off. “Yes.”

The woman’s eyes gleam with interest. “Do you have friends?”

Dan thinks to how Mark can make him laugh hard enough to snort milk out his nose and yesterday he fixed the plaster on Mark’s knee just right when the school nurse did it wrong. “Yes.”

The interest in the woman’s eyes dulls a little. “A pity. Still, far more useful than most people will ever be.” She reaches into a pocket and pulls out a card with the letters LMG on it and a phone number. “My name is Iris Vos. Once you’re old enough to be useful, maybe get a degree or something, call this number and tell them that I sent you.” She turns away from Dan a little. “That should give me some credit with the bastards.” she mutters to herself.

Dan looks down at the card. It’s in pristine condition, just like he supposes everything of Miss Vos’s must be. The numbers have an odd shine to them though and Dan finds himself wondering if there might be something interesting there. “Thank you for the opportunity.” he says, because he’s certain that someone said that after receiving a job offer in one of the TV shows his dad watches. Miss Vos nods so Dan guesses he probably said the right words and she walks off towards people in suits holding official looking clipboards.

Dan wants to know how this story ends. He needs to know how this story ends. The curiosity burns in his stomach like acid and fire and hatred and wonder and Dan isn’t sure how many years he can last before it finds a way to destroy him. He’s always loved endings after all, perhaps a little too much.

So Dan tucks the card very carefully into his pocket and spends a moment hoping fervently that one day he’ll be old enough to be useful.

Crew Swap AU

Commander Lovelace is having one of those few good days on the Hephaestus when Hera tells her that something’s docked at the airlock five

The crew scrambles, something they’ve been getting better at recently.

Those with firearms training head to the armory while Victoire and Kwan and Selberg go to the airlock where Lovelace knows they’ll be doing whatever they can to figure out what’s happening. In under three minutes the entire crew of the Hephaestus is gathered outside airlock five, mostly armed and entirely ready for a fight.

Hera can’t communicate with whatever’s on the craft but she can tell that there’s only one life form on board. Lovelace’s choice is either to let what just docked into the station, or to leave it hanging onto them like a leach on their oxygen.

Throughout her time on the Hephaestus Lovelace has grown to hate unknowns. They always lead to someone dying. It means that they have to deal with whatever’s clinging to them before they’re in the middle of the next emergency. Lovelace tells Hera to open the airlock.

Instead of aliens or monsters, what comes through the airlock is a man. He looks exhausted. His cheeks are sunken in and one arm is wrapped around his waist in an attempt to hold together what he can. His other hand holds a gun, shaking.

For a moment he looks confused, like he’s expecting people other than Lovelace’s crew to be there. Then his eyes lock onto Selberg and his expression turns murderous.

“You.” he rasps.

Lovelace lets herself look away from the stranger and at Selberg for a millisecond, it’s all she needs. Selberg looks scared. He looks terrified. The man that Lovelace can barely get to listen to her is stood, staring in abject horror at a man who’s barely holding himself upright.

“No.” Selberg whispers, eyes wide. “No, you died. I watched you die.”

“Really Doc?” says the man through gritted teeth, “I thought the whole point was that I wouldn’t be able to do that any more.”

And then his eyes start to glow.

Well, Lovelace thinks, cocking her gun as Selberg drops in a dead faint, maybe it is an alien.

First Meeting

Ann froze.

She was right in front of the door. All she needed to do was to reach out and knock, but to cross the gulf of space those few feet had turned into seemed nigh impossible.

As she’d walked to the address scribbled in magic on the back of her hand she had considered the possibility of freezing up. It had been one of the worries that were distinctly more real than the others that had crossed her mind, but perhaps due to its mundanity Ann had pushed it aside. It was easy to argue that she’d faced far scarier things that were far more likely to kill her in the past and the fear she felt now wouldn’t be anything like that.

It turned out that those thoughts were wrong and this fear was exactly like that. Ann wasn’t one to freeze at danger anymore though.

The reason that Ann was trapped inside her own mind at that moment was, when going through all the possible emotional dangers of this visit, she hadn’t thought about the physical ones. Namely warding to stop anyone too powerful from attempting to breach the threshold.

She started to reach out with her mind a little, trying to feel for any cracks in the warding without alerting the person who set them she was doing so. Any shapes that weren’t perfectly regular, any lines that didn’t quite connect, any place where the magic wasn’t quite strong enough. She tried to extend her arm and found she could stretch it about halfway to the door. She smiled at that with it quickly turning into a grin when she realised that there was no resistance when she moved her mouth.

Ann could feel a little of the shape of the power when she reached out. It was unwavering and secure, exactly how warding magic should be, but she knew that if she felt a bit deeper there would have to be some way to make it crumble and

Huh. It feels like me, she thought. That’s weird.

And with that her ever so careful prodding of the house’s defences lost all subtlety while her subconscious took over in its ravenous hunger for answers.

She tried to reign it in as quickly as she could, take back control of the feelers she’d woven through the warding network, but if there are two things that don’t often work well together they are emotions and control.

A moment later a man was opening the door. He was about a head taller than Ann, in his mid thirties with bags under his eyes, accompanied by an air of annoyance which didn’t quite match a man greeting a dangerous fellow magician he’d warded his house to protect against.

Ann was frozen again but this time it wasn’t anything to do with the warding. There were a thousand versions of everything that could happen next filling the uncrossable space between them. Ann could see in the way the man’s eyes widened that he saw the impossibility of reaching out across that void of possibilities as well as she did. The movement drew attention to his eyes and away from the bags underneath them.

The irises were the same shade of blue as Ann’s own.

“Huh. You look like me.” She said, forgetting for a moment how inconceivable it was less than a moment ago to cross that chasm. “That’s weird.”

Continuation of this and this

Pt. 3:

“Do you feel it too?” Adora asks Glimmer one day when she can’t hold it in any longer.

They’re eating dinner with Queen Angella and Bow. The table’s previous conversation, full of good humour and niceness, goes silent at her question.

“Feel what?” Glimmer asks carefully.

“Everything.” It’s not the right word for whatever it is but it’s the closest one she can think of. It makes Glimmer pause for a moment as she turns to look at Adora. Her gaze turns intense in a way that makes her look older, more like the Queen she might become one day.

“Only when I’m with you.” She says and Adora nods. It was sort of the answer she was expecting.

“Is it the same for the others?” Adora asks, because Glimmer isn’t the only person she knows who’s tied to the universe by chains of faith and stardust.

“Of course.”

A pause.

“I feel it all the time.” Adora says quietly.

Bow and Queen Angella exchange a look, half-knowing half-afraid. Glimmer just seems like she was expecting it though. Adora isn’t surprised by that, Glimmer is tied to the moonstone in a different way to her mother. Angella is connected to it in a way that’s full of magic and precision and order. Glimmer’s bonds with the moonstone are more hope and blood and chaos.

She-Ra is made of hope and blood and chaos. Adora might hate her for it if she hadn’t always been made of those things too.

~

link to Shana cause these lil drabbles are pretty much just me trying to copy her style

yeah i love romance (the insatiable longing for god)

DC Super-Heroes by Gabriel Picolo.

Selina & Talia

1 2 3 wrote a bunch more for this and it’s on ao3 now lol

Talia is making dinner with Selina when the Sirens burst in.

Selina had said that something like this would happen one day but this is the first time Talia has met them during her and Selina’s relationship.

“Guess what we-” Harley Quinn crows before stopping abruptly at the sight of Talia in the kitchen and Damian at the table. “Who’re you?”

Pamela Isley rolls her eyes before stepping forwards and holding out a hand. “Selina’s been telling us all about her new paramour, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” she says. Talia raises an eyebrow but shakes the hand. She supposes that if Selina likes these people so much she can stomach being polite.

Harley, who had been looking Talia up and down from behind Pamela, steps forward and thrusts her hand out for Talia to shake as well. “Harley Quinn, pleasure to meet ya. And I’ve got to say you are a real improvement on the last guy Cat dated. Like really. Wowza.” Pamela elbows Harley in the ribs but she just responds by kissing her on the cheek. Talia raises an eyebrow at Selina who nods that yes, they’re always like this. Harley turns towards the kitchen table where Damian has turned away from his laptop and is looking at the group of them with undisguised judgement. “And is this your little one?”

“Yes.” Talia answers. She shoots a look at Damian since she can sense that he’s about three seconds from starting a fight. “He is.”

Harley leans down so that her face is level with Damian’s. “Isn’t he a cutie?”

“Continue to disrespect me and I shall remove your head from your shoulders, Quinn”

“And he’s got spunk!” she praises, her lack of fear just making Damian scowl harder. “Who’s the Daddy?” she asks, turning back to Talia.

“My ex.” Talia and Selina answer in unison.

Pamela looks up at the two of them sharply from where she had been inspecting the food and there’s a hint of confusion on Harley’s face for the first time in the whole conversation.

Talia knows it’s undignified, but she can’t help herself from a moment of sharp laughter. She might have been embarrassed over it if not for the way Selina giggles into her shoulder afterwards.

Head Archivist Sasha AU:

- You’ve heard of Sasha’s head archivist with Tim Martin and Jon as her assistants, but have you heard of Sasha’s head archivist, replacing Jon, with Tim and Martin as her assistants?

- Gertrude got killed ~4 years earlier than in canon. Elias gave Jon the job of head archivist almost as soon as he started working at the institute in a move which everyone, including Jon, found Very Weird.

- Elias thought it might be funky fresh to make Jon very isolated to make sure it would be easy for the lonely to get him in the future and hence gave him zero (0) assistants.

- Jon spends the next 4 years getting up to hijinks, becoming more and more isolated, gaining more trauma, and just Not having a good time.

- Jon stops being head archivist/disappears for reasons I am yet to decide on and Sasha gets promoted.

- Elias doesn’t have any particular plans to make Sasha The Archivist since he still reckons Jon is going to fulfill that roll and decides to give her some assistants when she starts running the archives. As a Treat™.

- Sasha is an excellent head archivist and her Martin and Tim are all Besties.

- One of them discovers a tape Jon made when he was Archivist. It implies some very spooky things about the institute as well as some of Jon’s fears about what Elias and the dread powers have planned for him.

- The gang collectively goes ‘oh shit’

- Shenanigans ensue.

Since joining rebellion there’s been a certain amount of adjustment for Adora. A lot of it is weirdly easy. She finds out that something she’s been taught since birth is factually incorrect, she rearranges her world view to incorporate this new information, she finds herself in agreement with her new people and everyone ends up happy.

Sometimes it’s not as easy.

“What do you mean you don’t see the problem?” Glimmer asks, waves of alarm rolling off her.

Adora looks to Bow in search of moral support but he looks just as scandalized as Glimmer. “I just don’t see what the big deal is! We’re in the middle of a war, you can’t just not kill people.” She looks at the two of them. “It’s not like I enjoy it.” she adds, and if she’s trying to convince herself more than Bow and Glimmer then it’s not like they need to know that.

“We don’t kill people.” Bow says haltingly. “That’s not how the rebellion works.”

“Then no wonder you guys are losing!” And finally Adora feels like she’s figured out something useful. “We can just tell everyone that lethal force is acceptable. We’ll be pushing the Horde back in no time.”

Adora says it all with a smile on her face which slowly drops when she realises that no one’s returning it. That fact alone is enough to stun her, Bow and Glimmer always return her smiles, but what makes it worse is that if she didn’t know better she might think it was pity on their faces.

“You wouldn’t think that if you hadn’t been raised in the Horde.” Glimmer says.

“Well duh. That doesn’t make it a bad thing though.”

Bow and Glimmer exchange a look before Bow steps forward and puts a supportive hand on Adora’s shoulder. “We’ll work on it.” he says and Adora thinks he might be talking about her mentality rather than the obvious flaws in the Rebellion’s strategy.

He says it kindly, like he’s being nice, and Glimmer is looking at Adora in clear agreement with him. It’s like they think she wasn’t capable of independent thought before she met them. That every belief she held while in the Horde must be bad because of where it came from. The feeling of their presence turns suffocating and Adora starts looking for an escape route.

For a moment she misses Catra with burning intensity. Now there’s someone who understands that when you fight you don’t hold anything back.

“Hobie did more for Miles after knowing him for ten minutes than Gwen did” my brother in christ one of these characters was presented as having very little fondness, one might even say some derision, for spider society while for the other it was their entire support system they are not the same