#Until Hap joined them it was accurate

[ill-heart]

Tig: Being a creep isn't a choice.

Chibs: Really ?

Tig: It's a game and I'm winning.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

The kids aren’t alright

Summary: Ida wakes up and takes stock

October 1943

Requested? ✅ 18+ mature (thematic material)

Warnings: a lot of bodily injuries mentioned, way too much use of vomiting sorry, mentions of an intentional dog bite, past references to sexual abuse, very brief mention of an object being used to rape someone…if you read that sentence? it’s about that bad, I tried to keep it vague

When Ida woke for the first time, well and truly and fully, it was to the feeling of muggy warmth and a comforting snugness pressing to her chest. Her body ached but only in the way that suggested that moving would make it far worse, and so she tried to remain still, clock her surroundings, its smells and noises and the likely extent of her injuries by pain alone. Her cheek hurt the worst, a raw sort of agony that increased with each breath until she switched to inhaling through her mouth to make it stop, her right rib smarted in the way of an open cut, and her mind scrambled to supply a cause for this, quicker than it had for her cheek. Most sluggishly it tried to alert her to the all encompassing throb of her pelvis, a pain too intense and easily provoked by thought alone that she summarily shoved it down for the time being.

She would try to open her eyes, and then move off her cheek, and if that was possible, only then perhaps could she shift her hips. Her lower belly felt as if filled with glass shards, and if she were to jostle them, they might begin slitting her open anew. Take a peak Ida, she told herself, see where you are, see who is near.

With that plan of action barely in place, Ida willed an eyelid open.

Foggy sunlight filtered in, wether the window pane was filthy or the weather overcast she could not discern, but there was a blurry expanse of lumber before her and as things began to slot in place she recognized the camp. Not the horrid one, no, the stalag, the prisoner of war camp -she had made it, they had all made it. Almost all, that poor corporal and her warm brains hadn’t. The nurse either. Forsyth either.

There were bunks and lumber and a fuzzy stack of dishes and someone moving in a chair at a hulking object that was likely a table.

She held her breath, hoping her vision might clear if the smarting of her cheek would stop, and in response the arms that seemed to be bracing her together squeezed all the tighter. She let out a grunt of pain at it and moved her frozen hand to tap at the large paw interlaced over her sternum.

She really shouldn't be able to guess its owner so accurately considering the professional nature of the relationship they shared, yet she could: "I see you decided to join us, Egan." she rasped, throat feeling made of sandpaper.

The iron tight grip spasmed in response before loosening. "Oh hell Ida,” Bucky sighed heavily behind her, “scared me, ya stopped breathin’, -thought you were dead there for a minute."

"So you already took over my bunk?" she was passibly amused by his presumption, it was too relieving that he was even alive.

Whoever was at the table rose and came nearer.

"No,” Bucky countered firmly, “I didn't want them to find you cold and take your body away."

That was touching. And like him. She must’ve been in poor shape. "Bucky, you've got the heart of a child."

The figure from the table stooped over her and the back of a gentle hand she’d know anywhere, ran along her hairline, “Hey.” her brother greeted softly and Ida felt a sudden burn to her eyes at the relief of seeing his cherished face and feeling his doting touch. She knew she had met him, reunited with him here, but it was such a blur and she had no idea how long she’d been out for. It hit her now, Johnny and Bucky had her. She was alright, and so were they.

“Jack.” she croaked to him, trying to kiss his knuckles in sheer gratitude to their creator for allowing them both a little longer together. “Johnny you- you’re ok? And you’ve got legs.” she reaffirmed to herself and he laughed in agreement, watery and happy.

“Yeah,” he got to his knees by her bunk so they might be at eye level, his grin the homiest thing she’d ever seen, “all in one piece. God, it’s good to see you awake, Ida. You ok? Want some water?”

She could manage a nod but was loathe to let go of him, Johnny only managed to laughingly extract himself after he’d kissed her forehead twice over and “-jug is just on the table, I’m not going far-“

“Is everyone alright?” she asked of them both as he went to fetch it, tracing over the broken skin of Egan’s knuckles, the one part of him she could see without shifting. She wondered how he’d gotten here, how long after. “Everyone? My girls are -are my girls ok?”

“All settled, all fine.” Johnny assured her as he kneeled back down, tin cup filled with the brackish camp water they’d taken to filtering through an undershirt. It was the best they had to offer. “Cleven’s got all sorts of measures in place, there’s been no trouble.”

“How long?” She sighed in relief, trying to find the strength to lift her head and take a sip. “How long have I been out?” Her girls had needed her and she’d crashed on them, they’d asked for bunks and remedies and they’d barely managed a shower before she’d abandoned them for her bed.

“Almost two weeks, Eye Eye.” Johnny whispered as if that blunted the news, Ida startled predictably and Bucky Egan made a soothing sound like she were a pet to be calmed. “You need to drink.” Johnny observed practically in reference to the timeframe and she supposed he was right and let him help tilt her jaw and bring the rim to her lips, Bucky’s hand came up from somewhere in back to prop up her heavy head.

As thirsty as she was, the bitter tang of metallic water was not at all what she had dreamed of when it first sloshed against her lips. She forced gulp after gulp of it down, grateful for it and all too reminiscent of recent times without, but it was revolting. No sooner had she pulled away to gain some upper hand on the rising nausea than she felt the surging of bile instead, faster than she could process, much less tamp down.

Something in her face must’ve shown as her observant brother tumbled backward on the floor with a flailing hand that grasped for any receptacle available, right as she wheezed out a warning “bucket!”

Her face felt horrible, and her stomach hated the rough and involuntary movements that puking required. Ida groaned weakly between bouts but it kept coming -the urge that is, after the water came up there was nothing else besides bile. Johnny had managed to grab something, although Ida was too preoccupied vomiting and keening in agony to notice what. She puked in the general direction of his lap and hoped for the best, the grounding feeling of his hand cupping her battered cheek the only thing tethering her in the pain.

For a moment Ida had the displaced thought that her brother was helping hold back her hair. But the feel of his fingertips against the lacerations on her tender scalp reminded her she hadn’t any. And that memory brought another wave of revulsion and she wretched all the harder. She was in this state, in this much plain, out cold for two weeks because of what those men had done to her. Oh god, did everyone know what they had done to her—

“Breathe, you’ve got to breathe.” Egan was gripping her chest again and it made it worse except now she could feel herself shaking and that brief, spiraling moment of numbness began to dissipate and she almost mourned it as the pain returned and she sobbed into her next retch. “That’s it, that’s it, shitty water is all, Johnny’s gonna get you some sparkling, aren’t ya Johnny? Yeah, yeah breathe Ida, breathe.”

She had to stop sobbing. It was pathetic at this point, she was perfectly safe now and all that harmed her was a little brackish water and a sour stomach. She breathed as told and blinked the water out of her eyes. “Johnny, that's a damn plate.” she scolded, now noticing what he’d grabbed, “I said a bucket.”

Johnny smiled back ruefully, “Wasn't one close.”

“Now you've got -I’ve made a mess of you,” she cried, contrite herself, “that’s disgusting.”

Johnny shrugged and set the full plate aside, brave face in place despite the gnarly nature of the incident. “Seen worse.”

Ida just stared at his lap and the odd pattern of criss cross stitches on his trouser seams and the rusty stains all along them. What had they done- “Johnny your pants-“ she didn’t even notice the way she tried to rise in her agitation until Bucky’s firm hand came again from the back like the spectral arm of God and pushed her down once again. “What did they do to you?” she was back to numb at the horror of it and this time she didn’t like it.

John Brady stared at her and then back to his lap before jerking with horrified realization, “No, no these -these are yours.” he rushed, utterly unsure that was actually a comfort, wishing in fact that they were his and he’d have borne their significance for her, “I gave you mine while we mended yours. Now they’ve got vomit on ‘em too.” he tried to grin, to make the joke they were his work pants now, best used for the grittier duties in camp, an eyesore no matter what and rather talked of. He preferred to be the one wearing them, the one talked of instead of her, it was all untrue speculation in that case and the guards’ taunts were empty and without real history while he wore them. “These are yours.”

“You two lanky lil shits.” Bucky mumbled to break the tension. “Not an ounce of butter fat on either of you.”

“Are you done puking?” Johnny asked her conversationally.

“I think.” she muttered.

“Ok, put your head back down. Can’t keep holding your cheek.”

“Don’t have to,” she protested even as she lay back down, face on fire by the lack of incline, “the hell is wrong with it?” she groaned.

“The doc says your cheekbone’s broken.” Egan supplied.

A flash of a table rising up too fast and her cheek slammed down against it, of a hand in her hair and a man, one of many strong and large men, pressing down on her head over and over, the pressure on her face too strong and finally making way with a sickening give just like other places had given way when they— Ida felt like retching again but for Johnny’s sake she was glad nothing more came up, although his hand was back to holding her cheek together.

“The recommendation was not to exert the facial muscles.” Johnny snarked.

Ida willed her mind away, “Noted.” and began to wonder at how this camp worked, “What sorta doctor?” it seemed odd no one had hauled her off for two whole weeks, not to a grave and not to surgery. Maybe not that odd, Egan had been in her bunk. And Cleven would have never let them. But she’d have never allowed so many things and yet -they happened all the same.

“There’s that med student pilot from the 418th,” Egan told her, “everyone calls him doc around here since we haven’t got any medics. Shitty oversight in the air, fatal on the ground. It’s him or camp doctor, and we didn’t want him gettin’ curious over you.”

“Major Cleven wouldn’t let them take you.” Johnny told her what she already suspected and Ida felt like smiling despite the way it hurt her cheek.

“Everyone’s really alright?” she asked once more.

“Yeah, everyone’s fine.” her bother swore, “Except for you, you’re our biggest worry.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t use that tone with me.”

“Then don’t lie.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, but you’re not currently fine.”

“You and your distinctions.”

“You and the pants you’ve worn for two weeks.”

Ida gaped, knowing and loving his sharp tongue but having missed it all the same, “Well that’s -that’s low, Jack.”

“I’ll get Smith in.” he decided after sharing a look with Bucky over her shoulder, she wished she could see Egan’s face, something made her suspect foul play beyond boredom for him to be in her bunk. “You haven’t stopped -bleeding.” he winced, wether in sympathy or in discomfort over the topic, she could only guess it was both.

“Well get me up, sit me up.” she asked first, her curiosity regarding her own damage growing and she didn’t need dear Tallulah to see her freshly puked and still lying like a corpse. She could sit up if she was going to remain conscious. “It’ll make the cheek feel better.” She cajoled her brother in the most effective manner -logic- and so he assisted her to sit up against the slats.

“Bucket.” she warned again because her vision was spotting and her stomach rose at the painful change in position but it felt good to be up, and Johnny handed her an actual bucket to dry heave over. The irony was not lost on her.

When the feeling passed she found she was looking down at Egan, that he hadn’t moved with her and he still lay on his side, garish green bruise around his eye and a grimacing smile stretching that still pristine mustache. Well, it needed some trimming at the corners, her fingers itched to straighten them. “Ribs are a little cracked.” he offered in explanation before she could ask.

“Yeah he’s not supposed to move much.” Her Johnny expounded and Ida didn’t doubt this was a source of much argument between them, she could tell by the familiar, bitchy tone and the look Johnny gave his superior, one just short of wry enough to get him court martialed. Ida realized with sudden sobriety that she would be stuck in close proximity with this duo for the foreseeable future.

Mother Mary give her grace.

“Where do you pee?” she asked, it was a decent segue and it was also a pressing issue, mounting over even the horrible ache down there.

“Uh,” Johnny floundered for a minute, “pretty loose around here but -there are latrines.” Ida could picture the sheer amount of pissing against stumps and combines that likely occurred here instead, “You’re not walking there, not today. We’ve got buckets, girls use those mainly.”

Ida stared at the bucket clutched in her arms, still there in case of another upset. Right, alright. Buckets.

“Brady, get Smith.” Egan directed helpfully and her brother roused himself and went out into the hall.

Ida waited until the sound of his footfalls faded thoroughly before bringing her hand down to rest on Bucky’s shining forehead, he felt feverish, or maybe it was only oily. “How is he?” she asked. “Really, Bucky, how is he handling it all?”

“He’s a champ.” Bucky replied levelly, before giving her a gentle look, “A champ who’s cried a few times. I’ve been giving him too much trouble to ask him what he thinks about having a battered sister, if that’s what you mean. But he’s ok, you know him. He’s okey.”

“Alright.” she muttered, staring down at her lap, noticing the stains she’d made on his trousers. Poor Jack, she didn’t know how she could bear it if it were the other way around.

Bucky waited a beat before adding softly, “He asked me what to tell your parents.”

That startled her, the idea of letters, of news, of more than anyone here knowing, “What did you-?”

“I told him to tell them you’re alive.” he answered and she took a great breath, “And that you two were together. The facts of the matter.”

Well that was another kindness. “Thanks.” she managed.

“Hey, you just worry about gettin’ better.” He charged her, hand nudging gently under her chin, mindful of the bruises.

She gave him a grin despite her cheek protesting, “Back at ya, Egan.”

“Race ya?” he suggested.

“Race to what?”

“To the latrines. Whoever can get fit fastest wins. I’m sick to fuckin’ death of pissing in a can he wants to hold like I’m past ninety and should be put out to pasture -now you’re awake it’s gonna be even funner.”

Ida thought about asking if he’d really been relieving himself in bed beside her, to ask who’d been cleaning her in the meantime, but some familiarity was best left mysterious and the stomping sounds of approaching persons made her pause.

“Great, he brought a crowd.” Bucky muttered without heat and sure enough, Smith came skidding in like Mary Magdalene at the empty tomb, and behind her Johnny, Cleven and Graham.

“Ta-daa.” Ida vocalized weakly, feeling mildly possessed by the spirit of Kendeigh to make a drama of it all -it was only that they looked so ridiculously hopeful and small crowding the doorway like that.

Gale slapped the doorframe and buried his face in the crook of his arm, something like a rough laugh coming out, “I’ll be damned.”

“Well Graham, you’ve seen her breathing, go, come on go, we asked for Smith.” Bucky good naturedly snapped his fingers dismissively.

“Good to see you Graham.” Ida called to her poor Co-Pilot who was fast not to loiter.

Tallulah Smith gently crept up to her bunk and sank to her knees beside her, sweet face still a little mottled but the old pearl white smile in place. Missing a tooth. A jolt of heartache ran through her— “Ida.”

“Hey old thing.” Ida smiled back, or tried.

“God it’s good to see -to see you.” Smith settled for before dropping her face to kiss Ida’s unwashed hands. Poor kid, Ida was sure Cleven was looking after her but he didn’t know the half of it. All these weeks she was needed and Ida had failed her.

“Hey, hey you guys get me up, I’m getting cramp.” Bucky hollered to Brady and Buck.

“You’re not supposed to move Bucky-“

“Johnny -I’m not going on a goddamn journey. I just wanna walk in the hall and piss on the doorframe like everyone else. C’mon get me up.”

Ida and Smith crouched further into the bed to allow Egan to lumber over them with the help of their friends, a painful, grunting business that suggested his leg was busted along with his ribs. He was leaving to give the girls privacy, Ida knew it, and perhaps her brother had picked up on it as he stopped protesting and shouldered his weight uncomplaining.

“See you dolls later.” he saluted as they dragged him out.

It was bizarre to have the room to themselves when the door shut. The door had a window, and that gave Ida the creeps but it couldn’t be helped.

“They aren’t going out, they’ll stand watch.” Smith whispered assuringly as if she could read Ida’s mind. “We’re all in this combine with just one’s from the 100th. Cleven insisted. I don’t know how he gets half of what he gets done but he’s been so good to us.”

Ida stared at her hands intertwined with Lu’s and nodded gently, never doubting that would be the case. She just worried for him, she hoped it meant their guards were fair, or at least the commandant. But she recalled Cleven saying he’d stayed clear of the fellow, kept his head down, not sought attention -until the girls came, now he no doubt made himself familiar. It made her pulse pound in worry for him. She hoped the commander was fair, that was the whole point of getting to a stalag.

“And you?” Ida asked, knowing that of everyone, Smith was perhaps the only one who’d like to be asked.

She watched the girl perk up, brave cheerfulness fluttering across her features, no less genuine for all that it was forced, “I’m ok. It’s easier here but I can’t sleep much, and I’m so scared it’s going to happen again. There’s dogs everywhere.”

Ida winced at that. “Cleven won’t let that happen.” she insisted gently, “You stick with who he puts you with and if they don’t stick with you then you tell him, he’ll get someone else. Really Smith, speak up.”

“Ok.” she muttered, “It’s been Murph or Crank so far, they’re never away.”

“Good.”

“It’s just-“ Smith’s deep brown eyes grew watery and Ida braced, “-what can they do? If the Germans really wanna? What can they actually do about it? I don’t think -oh Ida I don’t think I could take it, the way they did it in front of you -I couldnt take it, not in front of our boys. I’d wanna die this time, I would. I’d wanna die.”

It hurt, the heavy pressure of Smith’s face buried in Ida’s wounded belly, but the poor girl was suddenly sobbing and Ida impulsively ran her fingers through oily black strands, humming gently and ineffectively. What was there to say about that? What could she say to that? “Everyone here would die before watching that, Lu.” was all she could come up with, but it was true as truth could be. “And they can’t shoot up a whole stalag, they can’t,” she went on, it was soothing to hear herself spout such ephimerally comforting bulshit, “so, if they tried, that’s a dead end. Not gonna happen ever again, Smith, it won’t. We won’t let it.”

Smith turned her head, looking not a day older than her eighteen years and smiled back, soft and sad, “Ok.” she accepted, and Ida knew it was more for her benefit than real belief, “I just worry someone is gonna still have to-“ she quieted down in frustration with herself, “-sorry I’m so glum.”

Ida squeezed her hands strongly, “No, no, you’re right. It’s very uneasy, and it will be for as long as we’re on this side of our lines. What were you saying?”

Smith bit her lip thoughtfully before quietly confessing, “I worry someone else may still have to. The guards aren’t as bad but they seem -I’m paranoid, I know. But I also -oh Ida, I shouldn’t say. He said I shouldn’t say but-“ she was back near to crying.

“Telling your senior officer is like telling a priest.” Ida reasoned softly, teasingly, “There is no harm and there is no record.”

“I’m Baptist.” Smith laughed.

“Unburden yourself, my child.” Ida insisted, mouth wry with sad humor. “That’s an order, Lu.”

“It’s Major Cleven.” Smith got right to it, “I’m afraid someone hurt him. The way they hurt us. Before we got here. And I’m worried if that person is here, I’m worried that- I’m worried that it’ll be someone, if not me again, it’ll be someone else.”

“You’re not paranoid.” Ida muttured, cold dread seeping in along with fury, she counted to five before asking as casually as she was capable, “When he told you not to tell, what -what all did he say?”

“Not much, really,” Tallulah admitted with frustration, “it’s just he came to check on me, first night in and we were alone in the hall and I told him a little, since he asked, he’s always so kind and he was kind then. But he told me he understood, and then right away it was like he regretted it. Saying that, you know? And I asked him, if they’d hurt him like that and -h-he was so shaken by it, and he told me I shouldn’t ever talk like that. He didn’t said no, he just kept saying I couldn’t say that. About him.”

Ida felt her stomach plummet and she clutched at the bucket as if there was anything left to puke up.

“Ida I’m sorry- I should've waited.” Tallulah fretted at her agitation.

“No!” Ida’s voice came stronger than even she expected, “No you’re right to tell me. I’m his officer too, you know. You’re right to tell me.” she repeated before trying to straighten herself, make Smith look her in the eyes, “And now, Lieutenant, I need you to let this go, alright? Really, you’ve done the right thing now, give it over, let it go. He might not have meant that, might’ve meant anything, really. Try not to dwell on it. Any of it, if you can.”

Smith rubbed her hand beneath her nose gruffly while murmuring a “yessir.” She was back to smiling when the hand descended. “Now, what can I help with?” she asked, cheered at the chance of lending aid.

“I need to pee.”

“Oh gosh, sorry-“ Smith laughed at herself and her poor timing for a confession.

“It’s alright, it’s alright.” Ida joined in, “This is going to hurt like hell, I do believe.”

Smith winced in sympathy, “Yeah, still hurts for me.”

“No, truly?” Ida mourned through gritted teeth, depending on Smith’s arms to scootch to the edge of the threadbare mattress.

“Yeah. A little better after a week but not, it’s just -it’s stayed since. You’re still bleeding, though.”

Ida stared down at her bloodied crotch. “Yes.” she hissed, “I’d like to -take a look. Any mirror: in here?”

“No sir. Sorry.”

“Anyone else bleeding like this?”

“No one besides Kendeigh, got her period.” Smiths cheeks turned pink at the mention of normality.

“Ah, small mercies.”

“Yes. Try telling her that, sir.”

“Have you gotten yours, Lu?”

“No sir.” Pinker still under that dusky brown.

“Mm.”

“I could check?”

“What?”

“I could be your mirror.” Smith clarified, sheepishly as she got Ida up, arm around her neck, her officer about crumpling at the pain of standing.

Ida grimaced again at the mere notion. “Bit above your pay grade.”

“I’m a lieutenant.” Smith shook her head proudly before adding, “Besides -nothing I haven’t seen on the farm.”

“Oh thanks a lot.”

“I didn’t mean-“

“Joking, Smith, I’m joking.”

“Oh. Ha.”

“I’d not be so concerned,” Ida went on, shuffling towards the bucket in the corner of the room where it sat between two bunks, “if I didn’t suspect a little -tearing.” she muttered, humiliation burning her cheek and adding to the throb. “There was a, uh-“ god, she shouldn’t tell a subordinate this but they hadn’t any mirrors, “there was a knife. And, I-i- think they, it wasn’t the blade but the handle and it -still it felt like…Well, everything got even worse after that.”

“Oh Ida.” Smith whimpered in compassion.

“Oh stop it, you of all people don’t need to feel bad for me.” Ida squeezed her shoulder, the one supporting her weight. “It’s just I really don’t know what to expect. What’s normal. Yes? To bleed is normal, we always hear that but. How long, how much, you know? My brother seems to think it’s too much. How would he know?” she snickered briefly before ceasing at the sight of Smith’s solemn face. Ida was reminded of when she’d first met her as a little recruit, keen eyed and perceptive in training, Tallulah Smith had been so freshly out of the nest she’d delightedly blown up her standard issued rubbers and tossed them around their hut, charmed by the army’s thoughtfulness to provide balloons along with toothbrushes. Not even the worst of the cads had said a thing to dissuade her and Benny DeMarco had followed suit, even going so far as to lie that he’d been additionally given bubbles since he was more senior.

When the day came that Bucky had pinned Smith her single bar on her jacket, he handed her a tube of bubbles, too.

Five weeks before it all went to hell.

Now Smith wore a shy little look, one Ida remembered well from when she’d had to break it to the girl what the damn balloons were really for. Today, if it were anyone else, Ida would have ignored that look.

“What do you want to ask?” She called her out.

“Can I?”

“Yes.”

Smith helped her fumble with her belt buckle, trousers loose and low on her waist, not even Johnny’s trim figure a match for the weight Ida had lost in her convalescence. “Was this-“ Ida could only see Smith’s eyebrows and the beautiful flat bridge of her proud nose, “-was this your first, too?”

Ida had never once felt shame, inadequacy, anything other than a natural state over her own purity. It was a conscious decision and a matter of habit, she might have disposed of her virginity had she wished but she never had, never saw fit, never felt the lack of knowing. There were handsome men, and if they were worth the loss of her convictions, her standing and self respect, she might have enjoyed hopping on them as her baser first instincts suggested. As is, she had not, and life had felt perfectly fine and full without that knowledge. One day, she had told herself, maybe one day there’d be someone right and worthy and fitting. Suddenly it felt so very embarrassing to have known nothing more than this, to pretend authority and yet not even know this intimate response of her own body. She could still hear the disbelieving glee of the guards at the same realization.

A female colonel. Who was a virgin. What a lark.

Yet if it served to comfort Smith? Provide some solidarity not even Maureen’s brazen bravery could supply? Ida meant to give it her. “Yes, my first. I’ve never done anything of the sort before.” it served to be plain, to be thorough.

She was rewarded with the lifting of Lu’s face, mournful shyness fading into relief before compassion flickered again. “How do you want me to look?”

Ida ended up propping a foot up on an adjacent bunk, slacks around her ankles, face buried in her elbow as Smith crouched with veterinary efficiency and peeled her apart down there. Ida stifled an involuntary whimper into her fist, not so much from pain as the jolting feeling of that area being touched again.

“I honestly can’t tell much.” Smith sighed, standing up again and it took Ida a good long minute to regain enough composure to pull her face out of her elbow and meet her eyes. Smith wasn’t looking at her anyway, “It’s bloody. But not a lot. I can’t tell about tearing, not on the outside at least.”

“Alright.”

“Here, let me help you squat.” Smith was at the ready with strong arms for Ida to squat over the bucket and do her business, as best she could between sobs at the pain of urinating with some much adjacent damage.

“Are Kendeigh’s hands alright?” Ida thought to ask once Smith had helped pull her up. Piss and blood swirled at the bottom of the metal pail, it turned Ida’s stomach, a foreign queasiness having seemingly settled over her.

“I had to set a few fingers,” Smith replied, “Hammy helped me. But the swelling is going down.”

“Good.” Ida muttured, redoing her belt with Lu’s help, “Now,” she stalled the girl, “how’s the bite mark?”

Smith’s bronze face flushed darker. No doubt she hoped Ida had forgotten, no such luck -Ida expected to replay that scene a million times in her nightmares for the rest of her life.

“Your brother got us penicillin.” Lu rushed to assure her.

“Did he?”

“Yes!”

“How nice. Shots?”

“Yes.” Smith smiled brilliantly, “The boys they’ve -they’ve been so wonderful.”

“Excellent.” Ida agreed.

“Major Cleven said we could-“ Smith’s eyes fluttered aside, “-could get sick from the guards. I didn’t know but -he said the shots would help.”

Ida clasped her arm soothingly, squeezing it until the girl’s eyes came back to life, “He’s right. Good to take precautions. What've they said about the bite?

No answer came. Of course the girl hadn’t even told them. Ida could curse herself for falling asleep so long on the job.

“How’s the bite, Lu?” she insisted on being answered.

Smith sighed, defeated, “It’s -a little festered.”

“How much is a little?” Ida quirked a brow. “C’mon, show me.”

Lu begrudgingly undid her buttons and pulled the placard aside, showing the deep imprint of a canine bite to her breast. Partly healed but angry and hot to touch, Ida suspected it strongly. At least it didn’t smell. “Have you been seen for this?” she asked once more.

Smith shook her head. “They say the doctor is not good.”

“How’d Jack get penicillin then?”

“Well -I don’t know. But he told me never to go.”

Ida resigned herself to feeling perpetually on the verge of emptying her guts in this place. “You either need more or some sulfer, I’d say, but then, I’m no doctor.”

“The boys have been wonderful!” Lu reaffirmed as if that changed anything while refastening her shirt. Ida shuffled back to the bed and sat herself down too fast, wanting to let rip a scream at the pain. “Gale looks after us and Jack gets the medicines and Bucky has been so watchful even from bed and Crank and Murph -I told you how they’ve been so good to me.”

Ida summoned a smile for the girl. The things she was concerned about were an officer's concerns, it was right for Smith to be soothed by stuff like this, it was right she be taken good care of. Whatever it cost the men, whatever it cost her brother. She forced her smile to stay in place. “Good.” Ida confirmed assuringly, “I’m glad to hear it. As they should be. You know that, don’t you? They should be good to you, and it’s not too much to expect that they should.” she let that sink in a minute before adding her point, “Some men aren't, and that’s why we're here in the first place. -And, personally, I like to think about how many of those scumbags we’ve turned to crisps, you and I. Job well done, mm?”

Smith grinned back, “Yes sir, job well done.”

“Mm, alright, now you go get Gale Cleven for me.”

“Sir.” Lu seemed torn, half alarmed.

“I’m not going to broach that topic, I need medicines.” Ida gave her a warning look, too much questioning on her sick bed and she’d turn into nothing more impressive than a half starved woman with no rank.

“Yes sir. I’ll get him sir.”

“And when you’ve fetched him,” Ida went on, “Go make certain Bucky is off his ribs. No baseball, no big movements, not even to retell a story. Got it?”

“I got it.”

“Alright, off you go. And Smith,” she added when the girl was near the door, “thank you, for the care. And speak up, alright? When you need something, speak up.”

Smith ducked her head sheepishly, nodding in obedience, “Sir.”

It would seem Ida needed a word with Gale Cleven regarding tough little lieutenants with a tendency for sepsis.

A solitary set of footsteps broke the eerie silence left after Smith's departure. Ida took stock of the room as best she could, who seemed to be bunking with them, what clutter was on the shelves, that the dishes were indeed stacked as she imagined on waking. She heard the rap of his knuckles on the door frame before the lanky line of him sauntered in, hand on the overhead plank, just looking at her pleased and a little mischievous. Gosh he was a sight for sore eyes and a heart aching one all at once. Where he’d once been golden and blooming, he was as gray as his shirt. How would they fare in winter if they started autumn so sallow?

“Major Gale Cleven, reporting for duty.” he teased, somber gray eyes lit up boyishly like they did when he wanted to be taken at the jokes’ value.

Ida grinned back at him as best she could with her broken cheek, “Bucky not follow you?”

“Nah,” Cleven came in, picking a chair up by its slatted back and bringing it to her bedside, straddled it, “he heard I was called for. He’s plagued you enough.” Nothing dimmed that fond smile despite the exasperated words.

“Cannot believe he took over my bunk.” Ida observed.

Gale’s smile fell. “Really didn’t know if you were gonna make it, Ida.” he insisted gently, firmly. “Are ya now?”

Ida wanted to chuckle, feeling more horrible than she knew she could but after all this time she wasn’t going to die on him now. Not now she knew how needed she was. Remained needed. How much he’d endured, possibly, she had to remember it was only possible. “I’m sticking around.” she affirmed, and his smile came back, dimmer but still there. “And you?” she asked, not expecting the truth but she had to try.

The upbeat grin that painted his face was worthy of an Oscar. “Fine. Much better to see you alive, John too. Both of you been out for ages.”

“Sorry about that.” she feared more and more what burdens he had to bear alone, and what precedent that set for the remainder of their time here. Once Gale Cleven had shouldered a responsibility, he wasn’t one to delegate, even if overtaxed. “How is the commandant? Smith has told me what you’ve achieved.”

Cleven’s face wore an expression of pleasant surprise as if he were relaying pleasant findings for the first time, “Most decent German I’ve met.” His tone held such genuine relief that Ida had to believe him. “Supplies are scarce. They've shot enough of us down in short enough order it’s all a bit much for the Red Cross.” he let that dismal statistic hang for a brief moment before rallying, “But he’s fair, shares my low opinion of his subordinates. No real incidents but, they leer and they’re harsh. No girls can go out alone, I’ve laid the order down. Been no harm.”

Ida observed him, familiar chubby cheeked crinkling with what seemed genuine pleasantness, and she had gotten rather genius at deciphering that boyish face after years of training and laconic friendship. “What does he want in return?” she asked.

“Order.” Gale had an answer right away, “He’s got a massive thing going here, he wants order and he wants no complaints about females. So, I want the girls accompanied -he wants them accompanied. It works.”

Maybe there was honor among villains after all. “Good. How’s Maureen?”

Gale bit his lip before shrugging, “Alright, settling in, getting everyone else settled. We got shots for everyone and she’s had us cleaning the place, fussing about wintertime and how all the water to mop will freeze up then. Hands aren’t back fully.” he paused for a brief moment before glancing up, shyly, “You got any explanation for those?”

No more than he had given for his cuts. “She’s told you. As much as she’s told me. I don’t think anyone hasn’t got a story. Or ten.”

“Bucky’s having trouble with that.” It was a comment, not a warning or a complaint.

She might’ve guessed. “And my brother? He proving of any use?”

Gale’s pale skin seemed to color at that and his eyes skittered to the side, briefly, before he recalled himself, “He’s a damn bulldog with a task. Been -been real essential.”

“With the doctor I hear.” Ida ventured, “Smith told me.” and Gale nodded in understanding, “She also told me she’d been warned never to go herself. Which brings up a few issues.”

“Colonel?” Gale frowned at her like something she said was puzzling.

“I’ve got girls who need to see a doctor. Should be in the infirmary -hell I oughta be.”

Cleven just shook his head, “They tolerate the girls here, so long as you’re not anything more than a number. Ida, we can’t attract attention that way. We got shots, Johnny’ll get more. He’ll get -Anything.”

“And how’s Johnny gonna get ‘anything’ for me, mm?”

Cleven didn’t have an answer for that, he just looked terribly tired. “Tell us, we’ll get it but I can’t condone lettin’ a woman go there.”

Ida tried to settle her stomach, a laundry list of worries a mile long had begun to arrange themselves in her mind and by the size of Cleven’s eyebags, he carried them too. She had to prioritize, if only she wasn’t so very tired and practically an invalid. “Then I need your promise to be tenacious in the care of someone who ought’ve been in hospital weeks ago.”

He cocked his head to the side, alarm at the unknown flitting across his face, he looked her up and down as if anticipating she would name herself.

“Smith has what looks like a raging infection.” Ida stated.

Well that got him startled, confused and a little irate. His blue eyes widened, “Looks like.” he repeated. “-where? From what?”

“And she’s not told a soul.” Ida observed with an eyebrow that only slightly accused, it was lethal enough on Gale’s frail morale, “As she’s a stubborn thing and also -shy.”

Gale knew Lu to be both. He had taken pains to ask after her the night she came in with that express suspicion in mind. “I asked her.” He swore.

“She says she asked you the same.” Ida bounced the hypothetical tennis ball right back, quite casually she thought, and Gale gave her a wary, unreadable look. There went that topic for the present, Smith had to come first. “No, this is a dog bite. More like a maul, a gash, it’s horrid.”

“What?” The chair under Gale creaked from his irate posture. “They let loose a dog on her!”

“Set.” Ida corrected, straight mouth going even sourer, “They set a dog on her. Now it’s hot and pink and awful. Since she didn’t tell a soul and no one noticed somehow.”

“I-I-“ Gale wasn’t in a fluster to defend himself, Ida knew him better than to think that, he was merely in some disbelief at the cruelty, “I- gave her a shot, in the hip. Didn’t see-“

“It’s her breast, Gale.” Ida gently interjected, “Reasonable not for her to be eager to show. But it must’ve been stubborn pride or some assumption of a better lot that had her keeping it from Maureen.”

Gale took to pinching the bridge of his nose, a nervous tick Ida knew well, and it served to steady his hand, pinch away a budding migraine and hide the tell-tale windows of his eyes. “They set a dog on her -on her, to- and it tore her?” he couldn’t even get it out and she felt for him.

But he had the right of it. “Yes. And it needs something. Sulfer ointment? I don’t know. It’s why a doctor would be preferred. It could get septic-“

“I know damnit!” Gale still shaded eyes from her as his voice shook. “Why didn’t she-“ it trailed off, weary and rough.

Ida pursed her lips and swallowed back a dozen things she wanted to say: apologies and reassurances, demands that he tell her what he himself had endured. “I’m sorry you’ve got so much to be done.” she offered instead, mildly and with some gentleness she hoped she’d retained. “I’m sure Kendeigh will be a great help with this. I only ask you keep after Smith about it-“

“-I don’t mind the work.” Gale lifted his hand at last and his eyes were red rimmed, “You know I don’t mind the work.”

“No.” she agreed. It was only the sort of work. It was the hapless, thankless, hopeless work of piecing together friends who had been intentionally smashed to bits by a handful of demons. It was never about the work. “And you are to bring as much of it to me as you can. That’s an order, Major.” At least that got her a small smile, a conceding nod, “And I have my spies, you know.”

“Oh I know.”

“I can’t wait to be about. Help with it all.”

“Just try’n live Ida, if you can.” Gale laughed, short and clipped, “Seemed a lot to ask of ya just last night. Don’t wanna push my luck.”

“I’ve ordered you to push your luck.” she reminded. “And now, don’t you think it’s time we stop Bucky from thinking of things to keep everyone outside?”

💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

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[fleurlibelle]

CYBERBULLYING within the Sims-Community - Spread LOVE and not HATE -  with Tips

This is important to me. Okay, I was thinking back and forth if I should do that, and guess what? I will express my opinion. Because I think it’s extremely important to say something. This Sims-Community, especially here on Tumblr can be a very toxic place at times for simmers who do make a mistake. It’s literally the end of some great simmers who did provide beautiful content, before you judge, hear me out.

Even if you apologize and recognize that you made a mistake and promise to do better it doesn mean anything. Because there are simmers who keep trashing each other out there. You won’t get a second chance by the community to prove you learned from your mistakes and let you be. I’m not a big simmer in this community. Yet, it’s sad to see that BULLYING is obviously accepted.  It seems to be okay to keep trashing those who made that one mistake, even after them leaving the community and simmers still join the ride and keep going on that like yeah I'm happy they learned their lesson and left, finally. We don’t need that trash here.

Okay, I’m not religious by any means, but this quote is damn true, and I will say it:

Let them who are without sin cast the first stone.

After all we are humans (from preteen till senior, regardless the heritage and  nation).  Most simmers tend to forget that behind each profile there is a real human. We tend to make mistakes and in most cases we learn from them. 

But is it really okay to keep trashing each other? I mean, we are all here to enjoy what we love the most, and that’s the Sims, right? I get this feeling that you need to fear our Sims-Community because once you do make mistake, mostly without intention, there is no way to recover from that. At least I’m convinced that some simmers are not aware of whatever mistake they made and then realize it, oh damn, this is not what I wanted. But such issues lead mostly to riots up to boycott.

A bunch of Simmers don't think about it how toxic this can be and what it can do to the emotional state. In fact, there is a name for this it’s called cyberbullying. 

Let’s face it guys: Causing embarrassment or humiliation isn’t fun, and in most cases, this is happing in our Community with simmers who made a mistake. This sort of behavior is inadequate, and there is no excuse, regardless of the case.

More information on cyberbullying here.

I simply believe in the good within a human's heart. Most simmers who fall into this mixed-up trap called "Real Life vs. Sims Reality" must think about the fact that their stories leave a distinct impression. Maybe some of them just didn't think about the potential consequences that it could hurt someone.

Understandably, some topics are highly sensitive. So here are some tips from a small simmer for all those who fear to make a mistake.  If you are a new Storyteller or even a long-time Storyteller please make sure to read my suggestions.

Under the cut I gathered, I hope some useful tips:

Minimize Conflicts: Tips on how to minimize conflicts as a simblr in a multicultural simming community

The Mistake Maker [ You made a mistake now what?]

The Offender [The attacker, who feels hurt]

The Bully [Well, yeah]

Keep in mind I don’t take any side, nor I will. I speak in general terms overall.

Minimize Conflicts

How to minimize conflicts as Simblr in a Multicultural Simming-Community. If you are new to this Sims-Community and you want to prevent being attacked, for what you do. Here are some examples which caused issues in the past. Because some simmers haven't been diverse enough or talked about topics without doing proper research and considering potential consequence that specific choices can cause drama and action you didn’t intend to happen:

Diversity Create SIMS of all nations from all sorts of background (e.g. Age, Nation, LGBT, Transgender, Religion, etc.) Regardless, even if you have your playstyle, which is fine, by the way. But you are a part of a multicultural melting pot from the moment you joining this global Sim-Community. Sure, you can’t make everyone happy but show you are diverse, and you will be loved ;). 

Stories: Depending on the topic you choose for your Simstories you always need to keep in mind: Can I hurt someone's feelings with what I say and how I portray it? Is this accurate? Don’t simmify anything without taking such thoughts into account. Simply, because it can unleash a backlash. Writing about certain traditions, lifestyles, cultural or historical facts can be at times tricky. You must be aware that specific topics can blow up in your face. More particularly, if you have no experience with these topics or do not understand their historical implications. As you can hurt real people through what and how you write about situations, relations, and the way you portray it. Some people will resent you. Especially with regard if you want to talk about topics from minority [+ethnic] groups. That goes for relationships, historical events, and everything that can be considered as sensitive. Yo have to think twice before you write about it and dig into such topics.

Pre-work: Be sure to do your pre-work before using sensible topics: Such as historical events and any form of diseases, religion, sexuality, violence, crime, racism, alcohol, abuse, and other aspects that fall into this category.

Research: It is strongly encouraged that you to do a profound and good research before you implement somewhat a heavy topic into your story. Make sure to layout ahead before you post it. Write it and read each line. Think about what kind of impact your words can have. Like could it imply something you don’t want to?

Stereotypes: Can you hurt someone’s feelings with how you portray them without thinking about your intention and what you try to achieve by using a stereotype? Does your reasoning sound logical and valid? Why are you using a stereotype? Explain the reason if it's not clear enough.

THE MISTAKE MAKER

You made a mistake now what?

Show understanding and tell your intention why you did what you did.

Remove Post. If it happened without intention - remove your post instantly.

Don’t take it personally. Don’t let this hurt your emotional state.

You are human. We tend to make mistakes. Always keep that in mind.

Anxiety. If you suffer any form of anxiety, don’t let this go to your heart.

Suicide Thoughts. If cyberbullying achieved this? This not good at all. Please reach out to suicide.org to get help in your country via a helpline simply because life is too beautiful and too precious.

How to deal with digital attacks

Ignore it. Don’t react or respond to negative comments.

Block online haters.  As soon they make negative or hateful comments, delete first. They keep going? Block them. Don’t let words hurt you. Yes, you can also block the anon (IP will be blocked) or turn off the annon function in your settings for your inbox. Talk to someone you can trust and report “offensive content” on Tumblr here. Tell that they bully you, keep the messages until you are done with the report, and do screenshots for proof.

Be kind and respectful. Yes, even to haters. It shows that you’re in control of your emotions and that you aren’t letting negativity bring you down.

Stick with your supporters. Keep your followers who do appreciate and understand you. Having a friend nearby if you think you might encounter a hater not only makes it less likely that an incident might happen, but also means you’ll have positive reinforcements just in case.

Reminder. Remind yourself that comments from a hater are a reflection of them and aren’t really about you. People who feel good about themselves don’t need to put others down.

Criticism. Understand criticism can be a sign of pain. People sometimes lash out because they have other life struggles. Negative comments may have nothing to do with you.

Feelings. Acknowledge your feelings. Talk to a trusted adult or friend and get some encouragement and support.

Be yourself. Keep being you. Keep moving forward, pursuing your interests, and being who you are.

OFFENDER

The attacker, who feels hurt

Ask. First ask, what did you mean by saying XYZ? 

Intention. Question the intention. Did you intentionally imply XYZ?

Express feelings. You have all the rights but give them the chance to explain themself but be forgiven and show understanding if they tell you they did not want to hurt your feels.

Forgive. If the person apologizes, be forgiven.

Second chance. Did the person learn that their behavior can hurt? Do they do it right now? Well, why not keep following and enjoy, right? Or let them be if you don’t want to follow them any longer.

BULLY

The dickhead that keeps going.

Listen, Bullying is not okay.

You don’t know who is behind that profile.

You don’t know in what emotional state that person is.

Words do hurt even more than physical pain.

It can lead that person to do something dramatic (like suicide etc.)

Your words have an impact, and you don’t know what it can cause and do to someone. Put yourself in their shoes.

Be forgiven.

Unfollow, if you don’t like them any longer but don’t trash that one simmer. This is so NOT cool.

SIDENOTE

Speaking on general terms. Big simmers do have a specific role model function as well. Many, in most instances, several thousand simmers of all ages are following you. It’s your responsibility not to support any form of Cyberbullying. 

Because children and young people follow you. They adore and love what you do. Take your role model function seriously and please, don’t support any form of Cyberbullying.

Reblog if you agree.

Much love,

Malia❤️

PS: I love this community because it’s a melting pot of cultures of all nations and background. Let’s make our spot a safe and welcoming place for those who feel unsecure about themself. Don’t judge before you have valid evidence and proof that a human being is evil or bad because of ONE mistake. We all did mistakes in our life.

[icevolts]

Letting go

It’s been a week and a half since the passing of the Hinata’s family pet, Mia. Hajime was devastated, he raised Mia ever since she was a small, newborn kitten. It was almost like losing one of his kids to him. Chiaki also loved the cat, the two had a lot in common: not very active, taking lots of naps, being quiet and reserved. Even Akumo was saddened by this, although he wouldn’t show it to others.

Sayuri seemed to take it the worst however. She never dealt with loss in her family before and it was accurately taking its toll on her. What was once the optimistic, carefree teenage girl was now a silent, sullen girl. Sayuri dazed out a lot in conversations and during class, but just left it at that.

Sayuri was the extra joy giver when they needed it the most, but now there was nothing. The days were normal, almost too normal one could say. When asked what was working she gave the same response:

“Oh, nothing. I’m fine, honest”

She never was a good liar. Her attempts at smiling were always hollow. Her friends noticed this, and wanted to help however they could.

————-

Sayuri walked to the front door of Kuzuryu’s bakery. Se had gotten a text from Nadashi to meet him here after school for something but she wasn’t sure of what or why. So here she was, looking down at the ground with her face riddled with melancholy, as she gripped the door and walked inside. The lights were off with nothing but the orange, afternoon sun glare to illuminate the store. She took a few more steps in when-

“SURPISE!” Various voices called out and the lights flickered on making Sayuri’s head jolt up and let out a light gasp. Before her were all her friends. Nadashi, Shiki, Garu, Mikasa, Opal, Satoshi, Tetsuya, Iwanko, Jenna, and even Mitsuru. The bakery was decorated in cat balloons, cat plushies on the counters and tables, and even a few posters here and there. Her friends were also cat themed, as they all wore…“interesting things”. They had cat ears, cat tails, some had face paint of whiskers and a cat nose, Iwanko was in a blue cat suit for goodness sake, but that didn’t stop there.

“Nya! Why hello there, Sayuri!~ Welcome to your cheering up ‘paw-rty!’~” Mikasa spoke as she posed like cat and emphasized the puns.

“We saw you feline-ing down, and wanted to cheer you up” Shiki added, her face becoming red as she spoke.

“We’re not ‘kitten’ you with this, It is ‘fur-real’” Garu said, as his eyes avoided Sayuri.

“We’re your ‘fur-ends’! We don’t like seeing you so pup-set” Satoshi smiled widely

“That was supposed to be a cat related, but we’ll ‘purr-n’ the other cheek” Iwanko said, a bit muffled from his cat head.

“Yeah, come have a look at your ‘wonder-pur-ful’ cake that Nadashi made for you” Tetsuya added

Nadashi held in his hand a cake on a silver plate, he raised it torward Sayuri “It’s delicious I ‘purr-omise’ you!” He grinned

“Purr was used three times in a row for puns” Mitsuru said under her breath “So...turn that ...‘fur-own’... up down...and give us a smile…” Mitsuru’ eyes avoided Sayuri as she spoke slowly

Then there was a pause, a moment of complete silence. Sayuri who was still standing with her mouth agape, and her friends still holding on to their grins. With each passing second of silence the smiles begin to quiver and lower slowly until finally...

“GODDAMMIT NADASHI!” Mikasa roars as she takes off her decorative ears and hit Nadashi’s arm with them. The silver haired boy still held onto the cake and platter. “I KNEW THIS WAS A BAD IDEA! WHO THROWS A CAT THEMED PARTY A WEEK AFTER THEIR PET FUCKING DIES?!”

“You said you liked the idea when I brought it up!” He countered her

“AND LOOK WHERE THE FUCK IT GOT US! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU TALKED ME INTO THIS SHIT!” The black haired girl continued to yell

“Can I take these off then?” Mitsuru asked “I feel ridiculous”

“C-c’mon guys we can’t give up so easily” Shiki said “She needs this”

“I think it’s too late for that Shiki, sorry” Garu said as he took his ears off to.

“I told you all that we should resurrect her cat for the day but you all said ‘no!’” Opal scolded the teenagers.

“I thought it was a good idea” Tetsuya sheepishly smiled

“Well I’m taking this off” Iwanko lifted the cat head and revealed his face “It was starting to get stuffy in there anyway”

“I wasted this face paint for nothing” Satoshi said while rubbing her cheeks of her ‘whiskers’. “Oh Jenna, you can...turn that off” The robot girl paused licking her arm as she met eyes with Satoshi, a few beeps came out of her and then she spoke.

“So the Sayuri party is cancelled then. Boo! I downloaded several hundred cat videos to study for this day” She whined

“And still no where close to the real thing, metal-spawn” The blonde princess glared at the robot.

“I-I just wanted to make Sayuri happy like the rest of us!” Jenna claimed as oil began to drop from her eyes

“It’s okay, we all did” Nadashi sighed “This is all my fault”

“Yeah no shit” Mikasa added

“Mikasa, that wasn’t necessary!” Tetsuya spoke up

“And are you saying that is dressing up like cats, buying all these cat balloons and plushies, and making up all these god-awful cat puns were ‘necessary’?” Mitsuru refuted and the teal haired boy’s face turned pink.

“W-well no but-“

“Guys let’s not fight. Sayuri’s still here-“ Garu began before giggling was heard. The source...was Sayuri.

“Hehehe, heh heh heh, ahaha. You guys looked so ridiculous! Hahaha!” Sayuri’s eyes dripped with tears as she let out a laugh. Her tears weren’t of sadness but of joy. Her smile and laugh were real and not hollow like she had been throughout the week. Sayuri was finally being real again.

“Well, we did this all for you” Mikasa said

“We saw you being so sad ever since Mia died, and we wanted to cheer you up” Shiki added

“So Nadashi thought that throwing you a party would do the trick” Garu gestured to Nadashi who blushed in response.

“So, pffft, so the cat theme was his idea” Sayuri asked as she wiped her eyes.

“Yep!” Satoshi beamed, wrapping her arm around Nadashi’s shoulder.

“The cat balloons, plushies, and the costumes?”

“His idea as well” Mitsuru said

“Even the puns?”

“....’purr-haps’” Nadashi spike while continuing to blush and looking away.

“Pffftt, ahahahaha!” Sayuri laughed once more “You guys are the best!”

“Well, you’re like the best of us Sayuri” Mikasa said as she came close the brown haired girl. Putting one hand on her shoulder, the mechanic ontinued “You give us this spark to lift us up during the day of our kinda crappy lives. And when you feel down, we feel even worse” Mikasa winked “So, thanks for being our bundle of joy”

“Awww, your welcome” The two girls embraced each other.

“Ok, now how about we get into this cake before it melts?” Tetsuya suggested

“Oh yeah right” Sayuri let go of Mikasa and sat down in a booth. Nadashi places the cake in front of her, and it was shaped like a calico cat’s head. “Oh it even looks like Mia”

“Yeah, that was my idea too” Nadashi said as he sat down “I used photos as a reference thanks to Jenna”

“Well you did a good job!” Sayuri exclaimed “Her eyes look like there staring right at me. And I feel like I can just...rub her cheek. And...scratch behind...her ear…”

“So, Sayuri? Do you want the first piece, and which side do you want-“ Shiki began, before soft hiccups stopped her.

“And...and pet her fur. And...and look into her eyes, and….and….I’m sorry” Sayuri tried to get up from the booth but was blocked by somebody, Nadashi.

“Sayuri, it’s okay. Like we said we care about you, so just let it out” Upon hearing those words by the silver haired baker, Sayuri’s lips quivered more and eyes filled with more tears. Until finally buried herself in Nadashi’s shoulders, and let out a cry.

Nadashi wrapped his arms around Sayuri and brought her closer. The rest of their friends soon joined in on the embrace. Sayuri after holding her feelings for long inside, finally let it all out.

[drundertalescum]

Day 14 - Hole

So I had about 4 different ideas for today so of course I went with a last minute 5th one. I was reminded of @opinioninvalid​‘s great Prison AU and decided that that was the story for today. I think it worked out nicely! 

I dunno if OpinionInvalid has posted info about the AU anywhere publicly but since I don’t think they have I’m going to present this entirely without context! 

(But I did write for this AU once before.)

Warnings: some cursing, criminal activity, imprisonment, some vaguely gross stuff, ableist language, references to gambling and murder and other assorted crimes.

Aster was in the hole, alright. 

He thought it was just slang, back in the day, but it was pretty frickin accurate, turns out.

The Underground’s only prison was basically a basement underneath the castle, and it sure felt like a basement. Cramped, dank, small. Something was constantly dripping from the walls, and whatever it was stunk worse than anything Aster could imagine.

The walls themselves were kinda shabby. Normally his magic coulda busted right through em, but there was some kind of protection spell over the whole thing, so Aster couldn’t break a damn thing. He usually knew his way through that sort of thing, but this stuff was the best and it would take something beyond the normal methods to break the seal and bust out. Pretty much, it was impossible.

Only reason it was even worth the thought was that Aster had both a long sentence and a short lifespan.

But for now, he was just sitting back, avoiding trouble, waiting for an opportunity. Patience was always one of his strong suits. It’s how he got as far as he did (before the part where he ended up imprisoned).

But if Aster was in a hole, his cellmate was in an even deeper one.

Dr. Wingdings was in for life, pretty much. Aster didn’t know if he was a different kind of skeleton that might live a little longer than he could expect to – it was definitely possible– but that didn’t matter. Whether he lived one more day, of a thousand years, probably, he was probably still gonna die in this cell.

A real harsh sentence, but hey, that’s what you get for killing a bunch of guards and shit. Wingdings really flew right off the handle. It was big news all over the Underground for a while, and why wouldn’t it be? You know what the LV of the average monster running around the underground is? It’s 1. Not one point something. Just 1. Because the few monsters with it are such outliers they aren’t even counted towards the total.

Now, Aster knew a lot of rough characters. He ran an illegal casino. Gambling, blackmail, identity theft, fight clubs, burglary, whatever. Aster knew all sorts who didn’t keep to the rules that governed the kingdom. That’s how things are when you’re a part of the Underworld of the Underground. But they were still monsters, and murder was unheard of.

The only killer Aster knew was the one who started at the walls all day and night above his cot and never talked.

It was funny, too, because he didn’t even look that tough. He was a thin, lanky, scrawny kind of fella. He looked deranged most of the time, like someone out of an old sci-fi, but if anything he was kind of nerdy looking. Made sense. He used to be the Royal Scientist before he went off his rocker and killed a bunch of people.

Aster kinda wished he knew what happened there. He was hoping before he died in this cell he could at least get a taste of what went down, because the official story was pretty one sided, and ol’ ‘Dings hadn’t given him a good reason to doubt it, but he knew at least one of those guards, and the official story that he was a hero and community leader, cut down in his prime? Let’s just say that line stunk worse than the walls in this hole.

So Wingdings didn’t talk, but Aster was never the silent type, so they came to an understanding of some sort. Aster could ramble on and on all day, and Wingdings would let him. But if Dings made it clear he wanted him to stop, usually by staring right through him and slamming a fist against the wall, then Aster knew it was time to shut up.

It was a good system.

Aster talked about anything and everything. It wasn’t just breaking about cons and whatnot, though yeah, he was a proud kinda guy and he wasn’t exactly humble. But he mostly talked about funny stuff that happened to him. Weird people he knew. Food he ate that shouldn’t ‘a been eaten. Weird dreams. Dumb facts he knew about the stars. Just… the kinda stuff he would tell someone if he wanted them to be his friend. Not that he thought Mad Doctor L.V. over there would be too interested. But it was keeping him sane, grounded, even if he was already as deep in the ground as it gets.

And Dings was slamming his fists and glaring less and less. Whether he enjoyed his company or got used to the noise was anyone’s guess. But Aster liked to think he was charming enough to win over even the hardest criminals, and Wingdings was as hard as it gets.

“So then Haps says to em, he says: ‘guess we know who the real spook is!’ heh heh heh!” Aster laughed, then looked over at Wingdings, who was looking at least somewhat in his direction. Usually he never even saw the doc’s eye sockets. But he wasn’t glarin’, just… starin’. He felt self conscious, like suddenly after however many months in here, he finally had an audience. “’s funnier if you know Haps is a ghost.”

The doctor didn’t respond.

Aster tried to think of another funny story to tell, since he had a real captive audience tonight (he had to save that one)

“Okay, okay, stop me if you’ve heard this one before, but a coelacanth and a gerbil walks into a bar, and the coelacanth says to the bartender—”

“Stop.”

Aster felt a chill go down his spine. He definitely complied. Didn’t even have to hear the words.

Dr. Wingdings was looking right at him, straight in the eye. That was new. And it was terrifying. Maybe it was intent of maybe it was LV, who could tell, but Aster swore he felt a hole being burned right through the center of his skull, and even through his soul.

Everything was quiet. Aster didn’t think he was breathing anymore.

The doctor tilted his head.

“I have heard that one before.”

“heh… heh… oh.” Aster gulped. “oh yeah?”

The doctor nodded, and looked away for a moment. “yeah… you told it the first week you were here. It was a very funny joke. I almost laughed at it.”

Aster wasn’t sure how to take this guy’s sudden willingness to speak. But he was just gonna have to bite down on his fear and work with it. He was starting to think the intent he thought he felt was a false positive. He never met someone with a high LV before. Maybe he was real sensitive to it. Some people were. (Though Aster never thought he’d stand accused of being sensitive.)

“You shoulda laughed! Then I’d know which jokes to tell ya!”

“Well…” Wingdings leaned back in his bunk a bit, looking a lot more amicable and a lot less rigid all of a sudden. “I said it was almost that funny. I didn’t say it was that funny.”

Aster snorted. “Is that a challenge?”

“No… I just didn’t want to hear that one again.” The former scientist’s expression opened up a bit. “We’ll be in here together for another 3 months and 8 days. I would rather listen to new things in the meanwhile.”

“Uh, buddy? Hate to be the one to break this to ya. The judge really shoulda, but uhh… you’re in here for a lot longer than 3 more months, bud.”

A low rumbling noise crept into Aster’s range of hearing, growing in volume and breaking out into something loud and clattering, paralyzing and all together foreign before he realized what it was. From above him, the mad doctor was grinning beyond what his skull should have been capable of.

“You finally made me laugh! Good job!!!”

“…‘fraid I don’t get the joke.”

“It’s just that you are very wrong and very unaware of it. I’ll be leaving here at exactly the time that I specified.” His grin faded a bit as his laughter died down. “You’re free to join me, so long as you do not stop me.”

Aster gave the doctor a look that likely conveyed the thought “what the hell are you talking about,” but said “Okay, I’m intrigued. Hit me.”

“What? I’m not going to hit you; you would dust, which is completely counter to what I was– Oh.” Wingdings slammed his jaw shut and motioned for Aster to come closer.

The smaller prisoner clambered up the side of the bunked cots until he was eye level with the mad scientist that was his roommate. The owner of the top bunk moved to the side to allow Aster to see what was behind him.

The magic seal of the prison was oddly visible before him, and it was warping and pulsing from a point. And at its center, Aster saw something that should have been impossible.

It was a hole.

Dr. Wingdings, disgraced but brilliant Royal Scientist, spoke as if he was at a meeting with the King himself, and had just done what no one else had managed.  “3 months, 8 days. Are you interested?” In two words: he was cool, and he was smug.

And Aster… well, Aster was almost speechless. His cellmate went from totally nonverbal to this at the drop of a lousy joke. It took Aster a while just to find his words, but when he did, his usual permanent smile was that much wider. 

“Buddy, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”

[muskycat]

Chapter 4

Frisk was astonished when she entered Snowdin. It was so large and luminous that she thought she had returned to the surface. In the middle of the square was a Christmas tree, full of gifts and lots of houses. How many people would live there? She didn’t expect so many people out of the Ruins. As they passed one of them, a fireman came out and closed the door of his business. Turning, he saw them, and Papyrus greeted him. "Hey, Grillby, look what I found in the woods." He pointed to Frisk, who greeted shyly, “She's my new best friend.” “Howdy! I'm Frisk.” "Hello Frisk," said Grillby, “If you're friends with Papyrus, then you're welcome to Snowdin. What were you doing in the woods?” "We must warn the guards, it’s very important, Grillby” Said Papyrus without giving the girl the option to respond, “There is someone who is dedicated to scare people. And it's not funny. Frisk has been very scared because of him” “Oh, wow. You can tell Sans to do something.  Speaking of him, I was looking for you recently. “ “It's true, I left without saying anything. Frisk, do you mind if we go by my house before going to Waterfall? I want to make sure it's okay and don’t worry.” Both said goodbye to Grillby and headed to the house of Papyrus. Luckily, they did not have to stray too far from their route, their new friend's house was at the end of the village, following the Waterfall route. "So you have a brother," Frisk said, "Is he also a skeleton? It looks like you?" "Yes, his name is Sans," said Papyrus, “If you had come by day, it is possible that you had met him, he patrols near the door. Although we resemble ... just the white of our bones. I should introduce you, I'm sure you'd get along very well. Good friendships are made with a good plate of healthy food.” “Hey, Pap …” “Yes?” "I have a question, I don’t want to be uncomfortable, but how do you eat? I mean, you have a mouth but ... no throat. Nor stomach.” "Oh, it's a very easy question. Our food is made of magic, so it melts in our mouths. So I do not need anything else to taste my spaghetti. Are you not the same happens to you? Nyeh, then it must be that non-skeletons, you eat like humans.” “Well, I ‘m hum ...” "Oh, my house!" Papyrus didn't hear her, jumping toward the door, "Do you want to come in?" I can show you my house, we'll eat the three together and ..."Thank you, but I'm in a hurry. I'll wait here."Oh, sure, I forgot. Maybe next time. I come now. Frisk saw him walk through the door of his house and waited, hoping it would not take long. She still had time to spend with Napsti and return home before dawn. She was a little embarrassing to ask Papyrus to go with her to the door of the ruins, afraid to take advantage of their new friendship. But she didn't want to go alone in that frozen place. What was she to do? She was so confused thinking that it was the right thing that she didn’t see a little monster looking at her, absorbed. He looked like a yellow dinosaur without arms and wore a striped sweater, like her. Frisk didn’t notice him until he was at her side. If life were like a comic, the boy would have hearts instead of pupils. “H ... Hello?” Frisk greeted with a gentle smile. “Hello what's your name? I have not seen you around here. Are you new? Are you going to stay? Do you have a boyfriend? Did you notice that we looked alike? Although I like your clothes, where you bought it?” "Ehm ..." Frisk didn't know what to say, she was lost in the first question. He was a little weird but he didn't look bad boy, "I'm Frisk. And I couldn't answer the rest because you went so fast that I didn't understand, I'm sorry." "Oh, well, how embarrassing," said the little monster, blushing, "I don't know how to talk to the pretty girls. What a shame.” At that moment, the monster realized what he had just said, his face paled. Frisk, however, didn’t understand that direct flirtation and began to laugh. "He he, you're cute" she said, tapping him on his shoulder, "Trying to make me feel good by saying that I'm pretty. You're great as a friend!" "Eh ... I ..." "I'm sure you flirt with many girls. You will be surrounded by them" "Ehm ..." "Hello Kid, thank you for taking care of Frisk." Papyrus came out at that moment, putting on his red scarf, “Sans was sleeping on the couch, so I went upstairs to his room with him. This lazybones hasn't awakened. Anyway, do we follow our path? "Yes, I want to see Napsti, I'm sure to surprise him. I hope there is not much, I have never walked so much.” “Are you tired? "You should have told me." Papyrus took the girl and put it on his back, luckily it was a little low for her age, "That way we'll go faster, Nyeh heh heh! Oh, by the way, Kid, it's late, should not you be home?" "Ehm ... yeah ... but ... I wanted ..." “Perfect. Bye, Kid” Papyrus said before to run towards Waterfall. Frisk said goodbye to his yellow friend before both were lost in the fog that separated both places. "That boy ... it's kind of weird, right?" Frisk asked, “And he talks too fast. It’s called Kid?” "Well, now that I think about it ... we've always called him Monster Kid, but I don’t know if it's his name. Anyway, he's never said anything.” "He's still a little weird. And he is already adult to be called Kid. He must be my age, he would surely have tried to flirt with me if I liked him." "Nyeh." Papyrus crossed the bridge of rocks, they still had a way to the village, so they had to lighten, "Hold on, Frisk." "Why do you say that? Ahhh Papyyy, not so fast." "You'll see how fast we've arrived. Skeletons are very fast ... NYEH HEH HEH!" ** Before realizing it, Frisk and Papyrus had already reached Waterfall. Unlike with Snowdin, Frisk this time couldn't admire the aquatic place when arriving. As soon as Papyrus stopped near the door of Napstablook, proud of his new record, Frisk slid half-staggering down his back to the ground. Where she lay, dizzy. "I told you, we're very fast. Are you alright, Frisk?" "Oh ... my guts," said the girl, lying on the floor, "Papy, why do you have a clone now? And no one stops." think I went too fast for you. You should do more exercise in the Ruins, Frisk. This is the house of Napstablook, the ghost. It is to him that you wanted to see right? "Yes." Frisk stood up with the help of the skeleton and fumbled with his clothes. From her back she picked up Napsti's net, strangely intact after the little ride, "Thank you very much, Papyrus. Wow, I didn't know he had a neighbor." "He's empty, is where his cousin lived. Undyne told me" Papyrus said "I'm not sure, I wasn't paying much attention." "That's true, your cousin. He doesn't usually talk about him, it makes him sad. Who is Undyne? Your girlfriend?" "Undyne, my girlfriend? But what things you have! She's ... well, she was, my friend. "Frisk saw Papyrus's face become sad, but he soon changed his attitude, “I think I should go back with my brother, now that you're safe. Wait a second, you have mobile, Frisk? I'll give you my number and so, you can call me whenever you want, even if you're in the Ruins.” "Yes, of course." Frisk pulled out his phone, a gift from Toriel shortly afterwards to meet he,.” One day I'd like to try your spaghetti” “I'll make my special recipe”  Said Papyrus and save his number before returning the phone to Frisk, “I know it's late and I would advise you to stay with your friend tonight ... but if not, if you go back to the forest, anytime ... you can call me. I will be at your disposal.” His comment caused him to get caught in one of the girl's hugs again. Frisk couldn't hide her smile, he had drawn the same thing that she didn't dare speak. And he didn't need to ask for it, he had simply stepped forward, offering himself. She only met Papyrus for a few hours but she knew he was a good friend. "Thank you, Pap," he said. This time, the skeleton returned the embrace, more confident. "That's what friends are for. I'm going to turn on my phone all night. Seriously, I don’t want you to go alone. That nasty guy can follow you in Snowy. I can’t lose my best friend before she proves my skills as a cook!” Papyrus said farewell to Frisk. She went to the door of the house of Napstablook and gave two accurate blows to the door. She hoped he wasn’t asleep or that he wasn’t home. Soon a noise sounded from the other side and the door opened, revealing the face of the little ghost. “F..Frisk?” “Howdy!” She said cheerfully, “Are not you glad to see me?” "I'm sorry, I'm surprised. What are you doing in Waterfall?” "What am I going to do?" Coming to see you, dopey. I was very worried when you left that way. And you left your net" Frisk handed him the net, leaving Napstablook still standing in place, not knowing what to do. He didn't want to frighten her friend, but he feared what could happen to her. He knew that Frisk was a human adopted by the caretaker of thr Ruins. But he hadn't told anyone, not only because she didn't live in the underground, he wanted to save her from any trouble. Like her neighbor, Undyne. "If you want to go ... I don't believe you came for me, Frisk. Nobody had noticed me since Haps ... Mett ... .oh." "Please do not start crying again" Frisk said, entering quickly as tears began to flow out of the ghost's eyes. To fix it, Frisk tried to hug him, but it was impossible to hug a ghost. At least that made his friend laugh, “Are you better? I don’t want you to be sad.” “I‘m happy. You're a good friend, Frisk.” "I know," she said, approaching his computer. The house of Napstablook was very simple and the most striking was his computer, “Oh, Do you create  your mixes here?” "Yes, I was fixing your song now. I finished it, do you want to hear it? I like to throw myself on the floor, as if it were garbage. You ... would you want to join me?” “Sure!” Frisk threw himself on the floor before he said anything and looked at him, “I love being trash.” “He he” As something strange, Napstablook began to laugh. He put his song and threw himself beside her, “You're weird, Frisk. But I like you.” ** Undyne was about to get home when she saw him from afar. At first she thought she had mistaken him for another but his whistling, humming that song, was unmistakable. She quickly hid, what was Papyrus doing at Waterfall at that time? She thought about addressing and greeting him, but she didn’t dare. She, the great leader of the royal guard was afraid of a foolish skeleton. Well, rather whom she was afraid was the weird older brother. Papyrus wouldn’t hurt a fly and that was the problem. That's why she couldn’t let him enter the royal guard, but that didn’t excuse her. He had caught her at a bad time that day. Alphys had disappeared and Asgore, though good-natured as ever, had seen him tired. The plan of human souls was stagnant, only one soul more and they could return to the surface. But no one fell. That day she should not have opened the door, or she could have sent him away to some simple mission. She regretted so much that she had broken her dreams by saying things she didn’t feel. And yet Papyrus wanted to forgive her, to regain her friendship. Did not he understand that he could no longer look into his face without seeing also how he lost hope? She was not able, no more faces surrendering. She'd rather be alone. At least it seemed he was not in danger. When she saw him, she missed his usual battle suit. He looked so weird in normal dress, with that orange sweater and those pants ... so bland. But what now attracted her curiosity was what had brought him here. Carefully, she followed the path he had left behind. Tracks took her to her neighbor's house, the ghost. Strange, she thought, as far as Papyrus and Napstablook knew, they did not know each other beyond what she had told him about him. When had they become friends? The door to the ghost house opened, Undyne hid as Napstablook headed to his snail farm accompanied by a friend. Blood froze in her veins as she saw the girl following him. It could not be. At last, the dreams of the monsters were to be fulfilled. Finally it seemed to shine a ray of hope.The last human they needed was in front of their eyes. And her spear wouldn't hesitate to snatch his soul by Asgore.