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#and there were several there was a zoology and a biology and i think a geology
i know that whenever im like "im gonna commit crimes" i add "for legal reasons this is A Joke" but like.... my favourite book that i have is stolen :)
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sailor-aviator · 10 months
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The Beginning
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Stranger Like Me: Prologue
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader
Summary: From a young age, the animal kingdom had fascinated you, and maybe that's why you chose to pursue that passion. You quickly became a force within the field, becoming the leading expert on ape social structures, which is how you found yourself on an expedition into the African jungles searching for a troop of gorillas. What you weren't expecting, however, was to run into the local wild man on one of your excursions... (Tarzan!AU)
Trigger Warnings: Talk of loneliness, Inaccurate scientific descriptions and terminology, Flirty Jake, Allusions to loss of parents, Talk of reintigrating someone into society...I think that's it.
Word Count: 1,263
A/N: Here it is! I hope y'all don't mind me making you wait too long! This blog is 18+ ONLY! As always, reblogs and comments are welcomed and encouraged!! Find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where all of my stories and drabbles are posted! If you would like to be added to the Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw tag list, please click the link below!
Series Masterlist || Moodboard 1 || Moodboard 2 || Moodboard 3 || Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw Tag List
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You had a running theory that there were two types of people in this world: plant people and animal people. You? You were most definitely an animal person. Growing up, you visited the zoo frequently, the employees practically knowing you by name. You did your best to memorize as many facts as you could about the different animals in each exhibit, knowing from an early age that you wanted to work with animals for the rest of your life.
You’d spend hours at the primate exhibits, watching the way the different apes and monkeys interact with each other, and you wished you could fast forward to the moment where you got to study it day in and day out.
So, you worked hard, graduating high school with honors before moving on to study zoology in undergrad, and then skipping straight to your doctorate program after that. It had been a long, grueling road that left little time for much else, but it was your passion, and once you had been greeted with the title of “doctor,” you knew it had all been worth it.
That didn’t stop your bouts of loneliness though. While your friends all went out to party, you were usually found with your nose buried in a book. And it wasn’t like you wanted to go out partying, but it still hurt when your friends stopped asking.
And then there was Jake Seresin, your handsome best friend of several years who knew he looked good and never failed to own it. The two of you had met in the early days of undergrad, having been partnered up in a biology lab, and you had hit it off immediately. Jake wasn’t interested in primates, his focus turned towards botany of all things, but he loved to tease you about your love of great apes.
“A cute girl like you studying monkeys?” He had chuckled with a shake of his head, mossy green eyes glimmering with mischief. “You must have had a wild fascination with Boots the monkey, huh?”
“First of all, peabrain,” you scowled at him, fighting back the smile that threatened to take over your face as his jaw dropped, “I study apes, not monkeys. Second of all, my fascination with Boots is none of your business.”
“Whatever you say, Boots.”
And the nickname had stuck. It followed you through undergrad and all the way through to your now budding career as one of the leading researchers in gorilla social structures. Which is also how you found yourself invited to the North Island Research Camp in the Republic of the Congo.
The camp wasn’t some grand research center, but it was well respected amongst the scientific community for gathering the most up-to-date research and hands-on experiences between researchers and local fauna. The camp was run by Dr. Pete Mitchell and Dr. Tom Kazansky, both legends within the field and rarely opening up their camp to other researchers. You had been thrilled to receive the invitation, and even more thrilled when you found out that Jake had also received an invitation to the camp to continue his research on tropical plants.
The two of you had made plans to fly out of San Diego at the same time, even choosing to stay at his place the night before your flight.
“The early bird gets the worm, Boots!” He chirped, loading up the trunk of the Uber with your luggage. How he was so cheerful at three in the morning was beyond you.
The flight to your destination was uneventful, choosing to catch up on some of your reading as well as sleep for the majority of the flight. The two of you were greeted by a bespectacled man once you departed the plane, his demeanor relaxed but his face shy as he helped you with your bags.
“I’m Bob,” he said, loading the back of his jeep with your belongings. “I’m helping out Pete and Tom with their research. The other researcher is already at the camp. He got here about a month ago.”
“Who is it?” You asked him, hopping into the front seat of the car as Jake clambered into the back.
“Javy Machado,” Bob answered, already making his way through the city and towards the jungle. “He’s doing research into termite colonies.”
“Javy’s gonna be there?” Jake asked, leaning forward with a grin. You rolled your eyes at him. Javy and Jake almost went as far back as you two did, having first met in a chemistry course their junior year of college. While you and Jake had gone to the same university for your doctorate programs, Javy had ventured elsewhere, making a name for himself within the world of entomology. The two together was almost insufferable.
“You two better behave,” you groused, settling into your seat with a glare in his direction.
“Boots,” he gasped, placing a hand over his heart in faux hurt, “I am absolutely shocked that you think we would be anything other than complete professionals.”
“Don’t give me that crap,” you snapped, turning to face Bob who glanced at you two wearily. “Those two are going to be a nightmare, I’m just warning you now.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask,” he chuckled.
The three of you settled into a comfortable conversation as Bob continued to drive towards the camp, the jungle becoming denser the longer he went. Soon, the sun was hidden behind the canopy, and you got the sense that you were truly in the wild.
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“Are you sure about this, Mav,” Ice hummed, hands clasped firmly in front of him as he eyed his fellow researcher. Mav spared him a smile, running a hand through his hair as he sat on the bench opposite his companion.
“He’s been on his own for decades, Ice,” Mav grimaced, glancing into the trees. “He deserves to know companionship beyond just us.”
“He has Bob and Javy.”
“He deserves more than just four other people in his life,” he amended, rolling his eyes. “We’re lucky we found him when we did, otherwise I’m not sure he would have survived on his own. Besides, Nick and Carole wouldn’t have wanted this for him. They would have wanted him to see the world, to meet other people.”
Ice hummed at that. Of course, Maverick had a point. They couldn’t keep the boy isolated for forever. He was already butting heads more and more with the troop leader and spending more nights in the observation tower as a result. It also wasn’t like Ice wanted to keep him isolated for selfish reasons. No, quite the opposite in fact. The kid had spent most of his life right there in the jungle, never having contact with another human being until the two men had opened up the research camp once more ten years before.
And that’s what had Ice so apprehensive. The boy had little to no experience with humans, and what he did have was from the time spent with the two older men who weren’t exactly the greatest of company at the best of times. How would he react to a camp full of people his own age? Would it be too much for him?
“Bradley is smart, Ice,” Mav continued, knocking his knuckles against the table. “He’s already been asking questions about the people in the movies and photos he sees. He wants to know about the outside world. Let’s let him have that chance.”
Ice didn’t answer. Instead, he sighed, leaning back in his chair. This would be good for Bradley. It had to be.
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Tag List: @goldenseresinretriever @fanficfandomlove @seresinsbrat @hopip99 @lemmons1998 @yuckosworld @moon42flight @kmc1989 @rhettsluvr @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @deliriousfangirl61 @nouis-bum @topherwrites @crybaby-21 @linkpk88 @number-0-iz @princessofglitterland @agentorange9595 @pittbull-enthusiast @krispybearbouquet @els-marvelvsp @jupitercomet @maximus890 @eloquentdreamer @seresinslady @piceous21 @wh1skey0n1ce @uniquedreamlandcheesecake @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @smileybouquet @jessicab1991
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ranticore · 6 months
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Chapter 2 - To Be Human
for tdov i'll post my most trans coded character, more trans than any of the others tbh. obviously it's ishmael
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Forward by the author | Chapter 1
In a bright white room with a single large round window, a young Ishmael sits on a bed. The edge of a rock ridge curves across the view beyond the window. Ishmael looks out through the window at the sheer sides, one hand pressed to the glass so that the light diffuses red through his skin. He is twelve years old and wears a shapeless blue and green garment that does not fit him, pinching tight around his neck but loose across his shoulders. A sipho nymph flies past the window and he turns to follow it.
Voice of Maris: What was that? Did you see it?
Ishmael: Not really. Too fast.
Maris: That was one of those – what are the zoologists calling them again? It’s a different name every time I hear it.
Ishmael: Exosiphonid.
Maris: I think they’re scary. Like giant dragonflies.
Ishmael: Did Surwan see it?
Maris: Who’s Surwan?
Ishmael: This girl in the biology class. She wanted to see an exosiphonid.
Maris: I didn’t know you were in the biology class. Was it good?
Throughout the video, Ishmael does not make eye contact with Maris or the recording device. He appears to hide behind a curtain of hair and hunch in on himself while he is not looking out through the window.
Ishmael: Dan said I could join next semester. I was waiting outside.
Maris: And eavesdropping?
Maris: I think it’s admirable to want to learn. What do you want to learn about? Is there anything that interests you? I’m no biologist, really.
Ishmael: Surwan likes the flying ones, like siphos. Callum wants to learn about leviathans.
Maris: That sounds exciting. Would you like to learn about leviathans too?
Ishmael: Lee doesn’t think they’re real. He said the betas wouldn’t get made if there were monsters in the water.
Maris: I don’t think Lee is a trustworthy source on that, if you want my opinion. Would you like to find out the truth? Imagine if you were the first to see a leviathan, they might name it after you.
——
The video transcribed above is a very typical example of Maris’s early sessions with Ishmael. He appears to resist all of her attempts to get him to submit an original thought, and repeatedly refers to the Human children instead, those who are undergoing a structured education about the zoology of Siren.
Maris’s notes echo my own understanding – that Ishmael struggled to articulate anything beyond a constant wish to be included with the other children, to the point of eavesdropping on classes he was not allowed to attend.
His passing curiosity about the wildlife around the settlement served only as a means to connect with the other children. And he was repeatedly shunned for these attempts, as Callum’s diary later noted. Those children whose likes and ambitions he carefully memorised did not think of him the way he thought of them. In fact, as far as I can tell, they did not think of him at all, because he was not a peer in any real sense.
This video also acknowledges the existence of the beta generation of Sirenians, who largely resembled modern phocids, though smaller and with shorter tails. It is important to state that although modern phocids descend from this beta generation, they do not descend from Ishmael. In fact, nobody descends from Ishmael, despite legends and myths to the contrary. This was stated explicitly several times by both Ishmael as an adult and Dan Loris, but made clear to Ishmael by Maris during these sessions.
“The other children are learning about how to make babies,” Ishmael announced at a session one day. “Dan wouldn’t let me stay. He never lets me stay.”
“You don’t need to know any of that,” Maris said. “You’re different to the other kids, remember? You don’t have a body that makes babies. Honestly, that’s a pretty sweet deal if you ask me. Can we swap?”
Her attempts at reassuring him seemed to fall on deaf ears, because reminders of his differences were often poorly received by Ishmael, or ignored. He paused to think about what she said, wondering how she could envy him when all he wanted in the world was to be like her.
“How do I get one?” he asked.
“A baby?”
“A body that makes them. I asked Dan and he said the betas can do it.”
“Well, yes,” Maris said, now wondering exactly how much it was appropriate to delve into he topic. “You don’t want to be like a beta, though, do you?”
Ishmael visibly shuddered. “No! But I want to be like Callum, can Dan do that? I’m getting better at being upright, so maybe if I practice more I can change.”
Thwarting Ishmael’s one desire was the absolute fact that his genetics were set in stone, and he could not be retroactively made fully Human. These sessions reveal a seam of anxiety, too, over the beta generation. At the time there were twenty of them, living in a separate location where they had access to a test pool.
Repeatedly, during the sessions with Maris, Ishmael brings them up as a potential bad ending for him, the inverse of his great desire to become like the other Humans. Those beta phocids were less Humanoid than Ishmael himself was. He believed that by mimicking the Human children he could become more similar to them, but the opposite could also be true, and the wrong actions might cause him to degenerate into a beta phocid.
Unfortunately for him, his efforts at being ‘upright’ did not result in any permanent bipedalism. When he was fourteen, his unpredictable growth had shifted his proportions away from the more Humanlike ratio he’d been born with. He was finding it more difficult to stand up straight, instead adopting a hunched and arched posture which still left him standing taller than the children of his age whose attention he coveted. The onset of puberty and these shifts in his body were tortuous, and it was a time that lasted until his mid-thirties when he finally reached his adult size and proportions.
But there was an improvement noted by both Dan Loris and Maris – despite repeatedly displaying signs of distress and depression in his sessions with her, he was no longer wordlessly violent, and did not give himself to his rages anymore.
Maris had provided him with the one thing he needed at the time – a safe person to talk to, someone who asked him how he was feeling without taking it as some scientific data point. She reported it all to Dan Loris, of course, but did not tell Ishmael that. He believed that she was his only safe harbour in the entire world.
Maris, in her own notes, says pretty much the same. And she was fond of him, too, revealing a genuine affection towards him alongside a deep abiding worry that she was not doing enough to ease his distress, and that she could have done more. She admits that she was not a trained psychologist, just someone in the settlement who had spare time and some textbooks. Her actual job was as a water quality specialist and she was acutely conscious that she had not the qualifications nor educational background necessary to help Ishmael properly. The settlement had a number of psychologists but they were not associated with the lab and did not volunteer their time.
To pre-empt the same problems with tantrums arising in the beta phocids, Maris was also supposed to spend some time with them, too. But she discovered that, with the exception of one, they were actually rather well-adjusted compared to Ishmael, likely as a result of their group all living together and being able to form a small close-knit community. Ishmael was deprived of this.
And, most importantly, the beta phocids could see themselves reflected in their community and use their bonds as a lens to make sense of themselves. Ishmael lacked this factor, and had no reflections or counterparts that he could use to understand himself. He was isolated by being unique, and by his inability to see the phocids as anything other than strange creatures he was embarrassed to somewhat resemble.
But it’s also patently clear that Maris, and Dan Loris and the other Precursors Ishmael was in contact with didn’t do much to raise Ishmael’s opinion of the beta phocids, as evidenced by the transcript above. Perhaps if they’d thought to assuage his fears by treating the beta phocids as people worthy of dignity and understanding, he might not have feared becoming like them.
The beta phocids, for their part, were born in a similar manner to Ishmael – the same deep dream, the same delayed birth, though their bodies were ten years old by the time they emerged from their dream and took their first breaths. Ishmael had been subject to numerous digestive trials measuring the suitability of his body for life on Siren. It was found that he was somewhat lacking in the production of a digestive chemical called an enzyme which would have allowed him to better deal with the high concentrations of silica present in Siren organisms.
He could eat and digest local plants and animals, but sometimes showed signs of digestive upset. Taking this information, Dan Loris was able to tweak his beta phocids before they were born, cloning and increasing the number of cells in their bodies which could produce the appropriate enzyme. He also took samples of Ishmael’s gut microbiome, which had taken years to properly develop, and implanted those samples within the digestive tracts of the beta phocids.
They were born as a group, though not all at once, allowing for correct monitoring of the newborns during the most tenuous periods. One suffered from the most common cause of death due to delayed birth; they simply never woke up, having rejected the dream at some point over the past several years. They were removed from the amniotic chamber where they passed on, a ten year stillbirth. We might remember the legacy of ‘Ishmael’, our Ishmael who was first born on Siren, but I feel it is only right to remember ‘Charity’, the first Sirenian to die here. They were given then to the assistants of Dan Loris who performed a post mortem examination.
The others suffered no more from the effects of delayed birth than Ishmael himself did. Although their bodies were more divergent from Precursor Humans than Ishmael’s was, at the time of his birth, and the discrepancies between their dream selves and their true selves must have been more jarring, this was offset somewhat by the communal nature of their upbringing. As soon as one was deemed fully awake, aware, and of sufficient health, they were placed in the boarding chamber with the other phocids and an assigned nursery worker. The birthing process took the better part of a year, so that the last born of the delayed-birth phocids was one year ‘younger’ than the rest, despite all technically being the same age.
Cherta, who gave their name to the wandering moon, was the fifth born beta phocid. There is very little to distinguish Cherta from the rest of the group, at this early stage, but I have on file their original description - “‘Cherta’, named for a sponsor of the project who donated three million nua*. Unisex ‘phocid’ of the Beta generation. Born age 10 years and 5 months, in [Year 3]. Melanistic colouring was chosen as protection against solar radiation, but it is expressed in heterogenous patches with a strong dorsal stripe. Length 5’1 nose to tailtip at time of birth and weight 54kg. Unusually violent birth, needed sedation.” In fact, Cherta assaulted Dan Loris’s assistants as they were born, reacting to the event as though it were an invasion of the bedroom of their dream. It was by all accounts an auspicious start compared to the others, and perhaps an indication that Cherta’s experience with the deep dream was not standard.
Cherta had fallen victim to another rare phenomenon of the incubator, referred to by Dan Loris as ‘dream rot’. This occurrence is a result of differences in the receiving brain, rather than the dream machine itself. The brain begins to understand, in some form, that what it is witnessing is not reality, and the structure of the dream begins to unravel.
At the time of Cherta’s delayed birth, the dream had been in the early stages of this process. If allowed to continue for too long, permanent damage to the psyche’s ability to judge reality is the result. Cherta would be haunted by this for the remainder of their life, but it was not severe enough to significantly alter their treatment compared to the other beta phocids.
The violence of their birth began to circulate in anecdotal form, eventually reaching the ears of Ishmael. He was curious – in fact, it was the first time he showed open curiosity about anything other than the opinion of a Human child. He asked Maris if she was going to speak to Cherta too, and she told him that she had spoken to all of the beta phocids, and had given Cherta in particular some extra guidance.
He did not take it well. The realisation that Maris’s time was not solely devoted to his needs was a source of distress, and likely another painful forced grouping with the phocids he feared. He would not participate in Maris’s sessions as he had before, and appeared afterwards to despise Cherta in a way that seemed quite targeted and personal.
Maris was forced to lie – she told Ishmael that she also spoke to the Human children, thus drawing him back under the umbrella of Humankind. In the following sessions, Ishmael revealed that he had greater knowledge of the beta phocids—and Cherta in particular—than anyone had previously guessed.
“Why do they look like that?” Ishmael asked. “They don’t stand up. They’re like animals.”
“They’re adapted to move in the water, like you,” Maris said. Her voice sounded nervous. “This means they had to have short arms and long, streamlined bodies. Like an otter. They’re very graceful in the water.” She had begun to introduce a less dismissive attitude towards the phocids, even praising them at times. Ishmael would tense every time she did.
“I don’t swim,” Ishmael said.
“Well, you’re not here to swim,” Maris said. “You have other things to teach us, so Dan didn’t wanna risk you in the pool.”
Ishmael was quiet for a long time. He rarely changed his facial expression, to the point that Maris often noted that she wondered if he heard her at all, or if his facial muscles had not developed properly.
“I saw Cherta playing with the floating ball at the bottom of the pool. In the water.” Ishmael sounded somewhat disdainful. “Like a child.”
“You’re all the same age,” Maris reminded him. “And I think you’re a child too. What’s wrong with having fun in the pool? Are you jealous?” She was fascinated by Ishmael’s sudden willingness to offer his opinion, particularly as discussion of the Human children never provoked this in him.
But Ishmael didn’t answer that one. At that point, he did not want to admit to any jealousy, and likely did not consciously recognise the feeling as such. Instead, he felt annoyance - he had to spend time in the lab doing work with Dan Loris, providing test feedback, having his organs scanned, letting himself be pawed all over by technicians who did not particularly care for him, only for what data he could provide. He did not endear himself to them, his quiet and obtuse personality proving difficult to grow fond of. But he still knew that it was work, he was producing data, and the phocids were just playing around in a pool all day, as far as he could tell. He was filled with righteous indignation at their laziness, at how easy their lives were, and wished that they knew what it was like to be him, so that they might stop looking so happy any time he peered in through the test pool windows.
I have recovered video footage of this behaviour, too. At odd hours of the day, with no real schedule, Ishmael would approach those windows. They were set in the side of the corridor outside the lab, affording an underwater view to onlookers. Access to the aboveground phocid enclosure was limited, so Ishmael only had the windows. He would walk there—painstakingly upright, though often with a hand on the wall to help support what was increasingly a difficult posture—and then sit on his tail and watch. The beta phocids spent most of their time in the water, as one might imagine. Ishmael would later learn that their lives were not as blissfully relaxing as he first thought, but it is true that they spent a lot of time playing in the pool, as teenagers will do. And he would watch them, until he heard an approaching Human, and quickly retreat.
The windows did not allow the phocids to look out. Cherta was unaware that they were the target of Ishmael’s most intense scrutiny. Despite a somewhat disturbing, moth-eaten childhood dream, Cherta was, on the surface, as lively as the rest of the phocids. They weren’t exactly easygoing, though, preferring to impress upon the others the importance of following rules, and of doing things the right way.
What Ishmael did not realise was that the phocids, as they swam together, built jigsaws and played card games underwater, were providing data too. They showed Dan Loris how their body plan could deal with the aquatic environment as easily as a Human could walk around on land. And so, when Ishmael and the phocids were fifteen, Dan Loris began to build his gamma generation of genetically engineered Humans, those who would be born on Siren without the use of a deep dream, and who could be introduced to the world outside.
Long days and nights spent in the lab occupied almost all of Dan Loris’s time, and his child Callum had nowhere to go after his classes but the lab itself. And with Ishmael and Callum once again forced into close proximity to one another, Ishmael would soon learn one of the most valuable lessons of his childhood.
*’nua’ is a form of currency
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onlyplatonicirl · 1 year
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helloeth dear author headcANON here, my phone blew up for several hours and i wasnt able to get on tumblr :((( but now i can and now i will proceed to yell into your askbox. today we are making up shit about everyone's favourite cat, molly <33 i love her shes so silly
a calico is not a breed but rather a coat descriptor, a calico is a cat of any breed who displays an even coverage of three different colours, which is why i like to imagine that shes a calico norweigan forest cat, mostly because those cats are known to be absolutely bloody massive and according to the height chart (yes headcANON is old, old) molly is 7'4, plus they are very soft and fluffy
to me she literally looks like spottedleaf from warrior cats, just fluffier
this also makes me hc that if she were to be a human, she would be norweigan/slavic
she has heterochromia, one green eye and one blue eye and she used to be a bit self conscious about it but as soon as she hit her twenties like with most insecurities she just stopped caring
molly always had an interest in science, particularly in living sciences such as biology, ecology, zoology, and also monster-ology? bestiology? the study of monsters, i like to imagine this was spurred on from her childhood, i can see her coming from a family where her mum or dad was very sickly maybe with an incurable disease and so she wanted to set out and cure it, so she absolutely jumped at the opportunity to work for the council - to bad it wasnt everything she'd hoped it would be
perhaps molly may also be genetically prone to developing this disease later on in life, which would just make her want to research it even more
i also think she'd come from a working class family, she had to start working from quite a young age and throughout her time at college and uni
she is hard of hearing! because i am too, and shes one of my favourite characters :))
i think collars are a sort of fashion piece for cat monsters (dog monsters too), molly wears one, it was given to her by her mum, its a small green collar with a golden bell on it
her handwriting is really elegant, but most of the time she has to write quite quick so it turns into doctor-scratch
she was really good friends with life, i think theyd have tea together in life's garden
paints her claws :) probably pink or blue, takes real good care of em
she never really thought she would have kids, mostly because she doesnt like men lol, but she was open to adoption and has always been quite motherly and caring since she grew up the oldest out of her siblings
when she was unofficially tasked with looking after error, this side of her really came out, and she didnt quite know how to feel about it, she shouldnt be so nice to someone to like error, hes hurt people and if he wasnt so heavily drugged up, he could kill her too, but she didnt think he was like that, she saw the good in him, she listened to him babble on about the goings on inside of his dreams, and they would have short, disjointed conversations where she would ask him what was important to him, who he loved, his favourite food - she saw the side of him no one believed existed
she had nightmares for several nights leading up to the date of error's execution, worried that something would go wrong, worried that nothing would go wrong, worried that she'd be haunted by him knowing that this wasnt right
she used to have a big crush on sf!undyne, that attraction quickly died when she realised just how cruel she could be
on mollys breaks, she goes and writes haikus, it calms her down :)
did catnip once, never again
- headcANON
OOOOOOHHHHHHH YEAHHHHB THESE ARE FANTASTIC!! I feel like an angel just descended from the heavens and handed me this wonderful gift. These are so real and fit her character so well uWAHHHH.
Also she canonically is a lesbian!! I decided that a while ago. She gives me fem x fem vibes.
ANON I WOULD LIKE TO LET YOU KNOW, (and anyone else who may be reading this) LOOK FORWARD TO MORE MOLLY LORE SOON!!!!! HER STORY IS NOT OVER.
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Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 5.5 Bonus
Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language Warnings: None Summary: Local feral human spends some time with their new family. Four short bits featuring Daphne (Maiden OC), Bela, Lady D, Daniela, and a surprise guest. Enjoy. Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!, 3: Haunt Me Dearly, 4: Portraits For Ghosts, 5: Heart Of The Matter
5.5: Family
i.
“Wait, you’re telling me that you came here willingly?” You asked, mouth agape, eyes wide. It felt like every time you talked to Daphne she had something incredible to say. Which was, of course, why she was your favorite maiden to talk to. That, and the fact that she had adapted so quickly to your ‘charming personality’. So far she was the only servant you had been willing to be honest with. Mainly about your feelings regarding your blood bond, but also just about your relationship with Cassandra in general. Something about Daphne simply made her incredibly approachable. From what you had heard, you weren’t the only one to think as such, with her being fairly popular among the castle workers.
“More of us do than you might expect. Some consider it an honor to serve one of the four Lords, and Castle Dimitrescu is certainly… nicer than either the factory or the reservoir. Personally, I came here for a friend of mine. She, well, had less of a choice. I couldn’t bear the thought of her being here without knowing anyone, so it felt like I only had one option. Can’t say I regret my decision, if you can believe it,” Daphne explained, folding laundry all the while. At the same time, you carefully sort through the not yet washed clothing, separating them into two baskets. After all, you wouldn’t want Lady Dimitrescu to end up with a pink dress! Technically this wasn’t your job, nor did you have a job at all, but you hated having idle hands- especially when talking to someone who was working. At first Daphne had protested, but she had given in upon realizing just how stubborn you could be.
“That’s… impressive. I mean, holy shit, that's a real ride or die friendship right there. Is she, uh, is your friend still, you know, around?” You stuttered, cursing your tongue for asking such a thing. If the answer was no, you were going to feel like a real asshole. Which, admittedly, you had a tendency to be. But this wasn’t one of the times where it was intentional. Thankfully, Daphne is all smiles, and even seems amused by your spluttering.
“Yes, we’re even roommates. Well, us and five others. Possibly with a sixth one on the way, if we ever get someone to fill the empty space,” she replies, pausing to think. Then she’s back to work, refusing to waste any time. “Speaking of roommates… I know I said I’m not one for gossip, and I meant it, but a little songbird told me that Cassandra seems to be in a much better mood these days. Are the two of you, well, getting along? It would be nice to know that soulmates can overcome even the roughest of introductions.” There’s a hint of something odd in her tone, and you take a moment to wonder what she’s (unintentionally) hinting at. Had she met her soulmate, only for things to go poorly?... Before answering her, you make a mental note, deciding to see if any of the other maidens had a scar across their nose.
“It’s not like she and I are dating or anything. We’re just, you know, not hating each other. Currently,” you said, shrugging. But Daphne raises an eyebrow at you, and you find yourself instinctively feeling guilty, somehow feeling small next to the shortest person you knew. “Alright, alright, we might have… Okay we kissed. And promised each other not to die, because having your soulmate die hurts like hell. Also maybe she showed me her mom’s art collection and I made a joke about the titty sculptures because holy shit, this house has a lot of titties.” At this, Daphne bursts into laughter, grinning from ear to ear.
“Amen to that, for sure.”
ii.
“So… fan of science, I see,” you say, awkwardly, bouncing a little on your heels. Next to you is the eldest Dimitrescu daughter, who had unexpectedly joined your table in the library. There were several other places she could have sat, with both more comfortable seating and more workspace, but for some reason she had chosen here. So far she hadn’t said a word. Hell, you hadn’t spoken to her since your first meeting, where she had suggested killing you. Naturally, you weren’t quite sure what to make of her. Something told you that she felt much the same about yourself.
“Fan of oversimplification, I see,” Bela counters, after a few tense seconds. Then she sets down her book- a heavy text about Romanian avian fauna- to give you her full attention. “It would be more accurate to say that I enjoy studying biology, particularly the branch of zoology.” Well, this conversation was certainly… happening. Honestly, you couldn’t tell whether she was legitimately judging you, or merely chaffing you for her own amusement.
“You’ll have to, er, forgive me for being overly broad. Consider it a side effect of my nerves, those themselves being due to our unsavory introduction. In case you don’t recall, you put that sickle of yours into my shoulder,” you reminded, with a sarcastic smile. To your surprise, Bela chuckles at this, almost as if fondly remembering the incident. Seriously, you think, why did my soulmate have to be from this family?
“Staying silent was an option. Perhaps that would have suited you better?” Bela says, now clearly teasing, smile much more genuine than your own. Knowing she had a point, you’re quick to blush, mildly embarrassed.
“Touche. I am curious, however, why you decided to sit next to me in the first place. I certainly wouldn’t have tried starting a conversation if you hadn’t,” you explained.
“Like I said… I enjoy studying zoology,” Bela replies, with a sly grin. It takes you a few moments to understand the intended implications. Once you do, however, you’re giving her a hard stare. Then you scoot your chair a few inches away from her, in exaggerated movements. “Don’t worry, I was only joking. Though you certainly are an interesting human. Much more, hmm, cheeky? Compared to the servants, at least.”
“Somehow I get the feeling that they simply prefer being alive, as opposed to not being as snippy. Except maybe Daphne, now that I think about it. Very sweet, that one,” you muse. “Regardless, I think I’ll return to my book now, for it lacks a tongue, and is therefore less likely to taunt me.” Doing just as you had said, you open the book, holding it a bit higher than what would be comfortable, so that it becomes a ‘shield’ of sorts. Nothing was quite as satisfying as subtle body language.
Accepting your words with a shrug, Bela also resumes reading, turning to a bookmarked page. Roughly an hour of relative quiet passes. Neither of you so much as glance at each other, not even when she drops the pen she had been taking notes with. In the end, you are the one who leaves first, and finally the silence is broken. You give your goodbyes, and Bela returns them politely. Though you do not know it, she sets her book down as soon as you leave, pausing to think about you. Now that things had ‘calmed down’, it was reassuring for her to know that you weren’t always full of spite. Still, you held onto your cleverness (for the most part), leaving her with no doubt about the universe’s decision. You were her sister’s soulmate.
iii.
“It’s official: I’m lost in a creepy castle. The universe hates me. Probably should have realized that sooner, considering how it decided to introduce me to my soulmate,” you mutter, scowling deeply, as you wander unfamiliar halls. How had you even gotten lost? Sure, you had taken a wrong turn, but it hadn’t taken long for you to realize your mistake! Evidently you somehow managed to make another one while backtracking. Now you were standing in the center of the corridor, hands on your hips, desperate for some maiden to come rescue you. What you really didn’t want was Cassandra to find you, because she’d make fun of you for the rest of your life. It’s not like she had specifically joked about you getting lost before. Except that was exactly what had happened.
A few minutes pass uneventfully. There aren’t even any distant sounds of life; no footsteps, nor echoing voices, nor the squeaking of floorboards. All you can hear is your own breathing. As well as the occasional sigh, admittedly. By this point, there’s a part of you that’s starting to panic. After all, there was a chance that the castle was big enough for certain sections to be abandoned. Hopefully that’s not the case, you think, I mean, they’d cut the power to those parts, right? Here’s hoping… With that in mind, you get back to wandering, figuring that you’d have to eventually run into a familiar landmark. Or better yet, someone who actually knew the castle’s layout.
When salvation at last reveals its holy visage, it is not in the form of a lowly servant, rather the muffled voice of none other than Lady Dimitrescu herself. Neither her exact words nor who she’s speaking to is clear. At first, you can’t even tell where her voice is coming from, but you quickly approach one closed door, then another, searching for the source. Several doors later you’re certain you’ve found her. By then you can tell that she’s not alone. Not wanting to seem rude by interrupting, you take a few steps back, leaning against the wall to wait. For the most part you still cannot make out what’s being said, but a few words do reach your ears.
“-expected more from you. How am I-” the voice gets cut off, not by Alcina, rather a sudden gust of air, akin to massive wings flapping. When the speaker continues, they are both louder and angrier. “Someone is listening. Have you not taken steps to ensure our privacy?” Then the door is swinging open, revealing your soulmate’s mother. At first she’s practically shaking with rage, but her expression turns to shock when she sees you.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Cassandra?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, clearly stressed, as she steps into the corridor. There’s movement behind her, although you cannot make out any details. Besides, you’re quick to answer her, wishing to avoid her wrath (and that of whoever she was speaking to).
“I’m so sorry, Lady Dimitrescu, I was walking from the dining hall to Cassandra’s studio, and I took a wrong turn. I’ve been wandering for half an hour now. When I heard your voice, I thought perhaps I could, well, enlist your assistance. But you were busy, so I figured I’d wait outside. If I had-...” you pause, gulping, as the other figure steps into view. It’s a face you’re all too familiar with. One that popped up countless times through the village, and again throughout the castle, the owner’s name always spoken with acclaim, with worship. Mother Miranda, in the flesh, wings spreading out behind her, somehow cutting a more impressive silhouette than even Lady Dimitrescu. Instantly you’re falling to your knees, knowing that your sharp tongue was no match for this practical goddess.
“Who is this, Dimitrescu? Why isn’t their blood staining your claws?” Miranda questions, gaze never leaving your trembling form.
“This… this is one of my daughters’ soulmates. They were brought in with the last group of sacrifices,” Lady Dimitrescu explains, uncharacteristically hesitant. ‘Twas a true testament to Miranda’s power, as well as her influence, that she could make someone so powerful seem so weak. Which was exactly why you were shaking with anxiety. But to your surprise, the goddess does not immediately order your execution for your trespass.
“And already they know their place, hmm? Kneeling before me?” Miranda says, a strange smile dancing on her lips. Whatever anger she had been feeling a minute prior had faded, though you couldn’t even begin to guess as to why. Regardless, both Alcina and yourself are quite relieved, though neither of you are quick to show it. “Either they have a good head on their shoulders, or you still take care of some of your duties. Very well, they may live. For now. But I expect next week’s report to be far more favorable. I don’t need to remind you of the price for failing me.” With that said, Mother Miranda turned to leave, a swirling mass of dark feathers flying past you.
A minute passes, maybe two, before either of you feel capable of speaking up.
“Let’s get you back where you belong, yes?” Lady Dimitrescu says, quietly, before placing her hand on your shoulder to guide you. Tension hangs clear and heavy over both of you. Even as you walk down corridor after corridor, the feeling does not ease. At least not until you’re back in familiar territory, near where you had originally made your mistake, finally able to breathe a little. It’s here that Lady Dimitrescu pauses to speak once more. “Tomorrow I will assign one of the servants to give you a tour, in the hopes that this does not happen again. Furthermore, I ask that you forget everything you heard earlier, for it is neither your business… or my daughter’s.” You’re quick to nod, and with that she bids you farewell, leaving you alone. Now, you think, was it left from here, or right?
iv.
“I’m just going for a walk. Why do you care so much? It’s not like it’s any of your business,” Daniela assures you, despite the fact that all you had done was say ‘hello’. If this was her attempt at casting aside suspicion, she had done a terrible job of it. What made her so nervous? Was it even worth investigating? Only one way to find out.
“You’re rather bundled up, planning on being out for long?” You ask, trying to sound casual, leaning against the wall as you did. In response, Daniela pretty much stomps her foot. There’s something odd in her expression, however, that implies your question hit a soft spot. Certainly wasn’t what you had expected. “Don’t mind me, just trying to make conversation with my soulmate’s sister. Speaking of her… have you seen Cassandra? Is she, perhaps, going with you?” A little misdirection never hurt anyone. Probably.
“No!” Daniela replies, fast as a gunshot, too much emphasis to be unintentional. But she realizes her mistake as soon as she’s made it, and makes a clear effort to relax herself. “She’s probably in her studio, doing whatever it is she calls art, on the other end of the house. Besides, I don’t want any company for this walk.” For a moment you merely squint at her, unsure of how to proceed. In the end, you decide that it really is none of your business, being more than satisfied by what teasing you’ve already done.
“Alright, alright. Well then, I’ll leave you be. Just… be careful, yeah? If you get hurt, and your mother finds out that I didn’t stop you from going… not sure Cassandra could save me,” you say, with a shrug. At first Daniela can’t decide whether to be upset or relieved, but she seemingly settles for the latter, giving you a brief nod before heading outside. As the door shut behind her, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had done the right thing.
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Silent Saviors: 4taro x Fem Reader
Finally... FINALLY IT IS DONE! This is infernal ask that has been in my inbox for so long!!! Thank you to @stardustbrosaders for the request all those months ago lol. This was the request: “Heya! Would it be possible to write a P4! Jotaro x Female! Reader where the reader gets her stand under stress from a battle? The group almost gets defeated but the reader’s stand appears and she beats the enemy, saving everyone? For the readers stand type could it be close range like SP and CD?”
I also drew the reader’s stand for this fic. You can find a link to the stand info here. 
This is a long ass fic btw. It’s literally 11 THOUSAND WORDS. I don’t know what compelled me to make the fic this long. I really don’t. But I did and here we are. I hope you like it, no matter how long it is!
Quick content warnings: General violence and angst, strangulation, murder (duh)
Without further ado: Silent Saviors: 4taro x Fem Reader (11k words)
A dark force was afoot in the town of Morioh once more, but it had just been a long day, and no progress had been made to capture that force. The team’s morale was low. The exhausted high school students stumbled home to catch a good night’s rest, thoughts of ongoing danger in their small town looming over their heads. The young manga artist Rohan Kishibe grumbled to himself about his failures, wondering how a genius like him could not decipher this mystery like he had last time. You felt a heavy air of unrest lay over the town as you awkwardly shifted in your seat on the ride to the Grand Hotel, looking over at your travel mate as he silently ran over the facts in his head. He shook his head in frustration. None of this made any sense. All the victims had been killed in the same way, so it must be a stand, one that didn’t leave behind any evidence, one potentially even more dangerous than Kira. 
A dark force was afoot in the town of Morioh once more, but you didn’t know anything about the first monstrous event that had occurred. The small town’s silent saviors all agreed with one another to seal their lips and tell no one what had really happened. Not that anyone would have believed them. 
But you would have. Your travel partner didn’t know anything yet, but the more time you two spent in this strange town, the crazier you felt you were becoming. You were seeing objects levitate in the air, you were seeing arms stick out from these bizarre teenagers. At this point, you’d believe anything just to make it all stop. You stumbled inside from the taxi, convinced this small town was driving you insane. 
Your partner turned to you in front of your hotel room, his own room right next door, and placed his large hands on your shoulders. 
“Are you alright (y/n)? If any of this investigation gets to be too much for you, just tell me and I’ll send you on the next flight back home.” 
You snort tiredly. “Too much for me? Jotaro you look exhausted… You haven’t been taking breaks from the case at all…  You’re always so anxious. Do you promise you’ll actually go to bed this time?” 
Jotaro looked down at you and moved his hands from you, sighing heavily. “Yeah… I promise…” 
You give him a shy smile before shrugging. “Besides… you need me, don’t you? Weren’t you the one that said I’m the only one that calms you down?” 
Jotaro gulped and broke eye contact with you, his own silent way of admitting that you were right. You chuckled and opened the door to your hotel room, giving him one last look and goodnight before you left to go to bed. You would wake up about two hours later from the sound of your partner’s shuffling about in his room next door. You slipped on a thick crew neck over your thin tank top and shorts and open to the door connecting to the two rooms. 
You peaked your head past the door to find a familiar sight before you. Pictures were tacked onto a corkscrew board, red thread connecting the dots to draw the group one step closer to solving the crimes. Files were splayed out over the desk, a map of the small Japanese town resting on the nearby bed, etched with red Xs displaying the sites where several young men and women met their demise. Amongst the mess, you found the broad shoulders of a tired Jotaro Kujo hunched over the desk, the young man still looking at the mountains of documents, eager to find the path to justice. It was hidden in those pages, he was sure of it. It had been your third night together in that hotel, and it was evident that you two would be there for much longer.  
---
“Miss (L/N) it says here that you have received your degree in zoology and graduated at the top of your major.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And it says here that you recently led an academic study of marine biology that went very well back home.”
“Yes sir, and it would be an honor to join this esteemed team of scientists here at SPW.”
It was the year 1998, and you were interviewing to work at the Speedwagon Foundation. You had graduated atop your class, and had a passion for your work that few possessed, as well success that few could show for. You prayed that this interview was going well. The Foundation was the utmost important center of scientific research in the world and you didn’t want to waste an opportunity to work there. You watched the smile on your interviewer’s face as he reviewed your credentials before setting the paper down. 
“Miss (L/N) I’d like to welcome you aboard our team. I believe you will contribute much to our efforts.”
Your face lit up in excitement and you rushed to shake his hand. “Thank you so much sir, I won’t let you down! If I could ask what position you’re hiring me for?”  
“You see we have an opening for an assistant with the Kujo lab. Since you’re just starting off here- you’ll be assisting him in meetings and in bench work-”
“Excuse me... the Kujo lab? As in Jotaro Kujo? Isn’t he my age?” You interrupt nervously. 
“Why yes miss… is there an issue?”
“Well no sir it’s just… I thought perhaps I’d be working under an esteemed professor… I didn’t think someone fresh out of grad school would already have a lab to himself… Not to sound ungrateful of course, I just didn’t realize I would be working under one of my contemporaries…” 
A sigh came to the man and leaned back in his chair, thinking about how to explain the situation. 
“Miss (y/n), the reason I’m placing you in Kujo’s lab is that I feel the two of you would work well together, given your similar backgrounds and parallel personalities…” You furrow your brow, unsure what the supervisor meant until you were face to face with Jotaro Kujo himself a few days later. 
You still remembered the day well. You hung your coat up on a nearby hook and looked about the lab. Documents were piled over every available surface with no particular organization. A large fish tank stood in the far corner, a wild variety of fish encased within. Anatomical posters of aquatic life were all over the walls, and right by the window sat Jotaro. He hadn’t looked up when you came in. Approaching his desk, you stared down at the mass of black hair on the top of his head. Soon clearing your throat, the young doctoral student’s head shot up to look at you blankly. You opened your mouth to speak, taken aback by his unemotional expression, nervously turning to a notebook you had on hand.
“Uh… um… My name is (y/n) (l/n), your new coworker. I would like to thank you for allowing me into your lab. I had been going over your most recent papers on the social patterns of starfish on the eastern-most coast of Japan and I was just wondering if-”
“I’m sorry, who are you?” 
You looked up from your notes and into the young man’s deep blue eyes, your breath catching in your throat. You struggled to form a sentence under the intense gaze, your breath shuttering out from your lips, and you looked back down at your notes. 
“I’m (y/n) (l/n)... your new coworker.” 
Jotaro nodded slowly, considering what you had just said. You watched as he removed his large white overcoat and leaned back in his chair, donned in a fitted black t-shirt. 
“Why did they hire you?” You lean forward confused, your ear facing him. 
“I’m sorry?” 
“Why did they hire you?” 
You look away for a moment, considering his now nervous expression, his nervous tick of chewing on his lip, his small twitches of the eye, his clenching and unclenching of his jaw. You looked down, finding his leg bouncing anxiously against the floor. A small, sweet smile came to you, and you opened your mouth to speak, alerting his attention. 
“You and I apparently have parallel personalities… according to them.”
You watched as Jotaro’s lips curved into a shy smile and he got up from his seat, grabbing a notepad from a nearby drawer. He then turned to you and extended his arm out, pointing. You followed the direction of his hand and saw a separate desk facing his at the other end of the office. You turned back and quickly nodded, rushing to set your things down and then turning to face him once more. 
Jotaro nodded courteously at you. “Have you read my most recent work?” 
“Yes, I just told you that I did that-”
“Good. Come to the meeting with me then.”
You followed after him into a nearby boardroom, unsure of the situation about to befall you. The meeting began. Executives discussed their most recent funding prospects, deciding whether or not to continue their spending, depending on how successful the trials had been. You sat patiently in your chair, listening to the others argue frankly amongst themselves. A steady, fast tapping upon the table commanded your attention and you turned over to see Jotaro staring off into the distance, his fingers rapidly tapping on the desk, his whole form shaking with sensory overload. 
“Mr. Kujo? And you?” You watched as Jotaro’s head shot up and he looked around the room. He hadn’t been listening, his mind had been too overcome with anxieties. 
“I um… I uh… W-what were-” 
You watched nervously as this man came undone at his seams. You cleared your throat and tapped the table next to his notepad. Getting the message, Jotaro grabbed the notepad quickly and anxiously flipped through its pages. 
“Um… sorry about that. I would like to further my research- wait no this is on the wrong page. Wait no it’s not… wait-” 
You looked around as the listeners began to get frustrated, looking at each other in jest of one of their top researchers. You chewed nervously on your finger, hoping Jotaro would pull himself together. It was your first day working with him, and it was already troublesome.
“I would like to further the research done in my penultimate paper. Or was it my most recent...”
“Mr. Kujo, we would have liked for you to have prepared for this meeting…” 
“No no… I did. I did. Wait-”
With a quick motion, you reached over and placed a hand on Jotaro’s shoulder, calmly taking the notepad from him and then turning to the group. Jotaro looked away, still visibly shaken. 
“Mr. Kujo clearly states in his most recent paper that he plans to continue his research, at a different coastal region, comparing more behaviors there to make sure that this past successful trial wasn’t any sort of spontaneous fluke. He writes in his goals of perhaps inspecting the regional colonies of starfish around S-Town… Following that, he plans to remain in contact with the genomic department and track genetic similarities between human and aquatic life that may explain the similar social patterns between the two.” 
You explain to them all, having memorized the paper. Turning to the notepad, you saw what Jotaro had written in preparation for the meeting. You then turned back to the investors.
“Mr. Kujo kindly asks that you aid him in his funding so that mankind as a whole may find a better understanding of the natural world… That’s all he wanted to say. He just couldn’t find the right page. Sir.”
You reached back and placed the notepad back near Jotaro’s shaking hand. You returned your hand back to the other’s shoulder, squeezing gently to reassure the scientist that he was alright. The young man turned to you in a bit of surprise, not expecting your presence to calm him oh so much. The executives all took in your words and the head of the meeting slowly nodded. 
“Well… thank you for your assistance, miss…?” 
“(l/n).”
“Right well thank you… We will consider Mr. Kujo’s work for a second trial.”
“Thank you. He appreciates it.” With that, you let go of Jotaro’s shoulder.
The meeting soon adjourned, You got up to leave your seat when you felt Jotaro’s hand grab your shoulder. You turned around to see him slowly stand up from his chair. 
“Thank you. I’m not a big fan of speaking to them…”
You nodded quickly. “Yes…  of course…”
From that day on, the two of you were inseparable. Having experienced the horrific acts done to him and to those he loved back in his teenage years, Jotaro was convinced that you were the only one who could calm his constant nerves and anxieties. You became his most powerful tool against the outside world. You understood his work perfectly, understood his mannerisms perfectly, and respected his need for silence in the office. You knew how to say things the way he would himself, and you had no fear discussing them to other people. The two of you became much closer over the months of your working. Jotaro became much less of an enigma in your eyes. It would be a few months until Jotaro would unwillingly reveal his more “secret” projects. 
The first time you saw the arrow, Jotaro did not want you to see it. But still, what happened that day would forever change your relationship with the young scientist. You had arrived early, hoping to surprise him with a hot breakfast and a smile. You turn the corner to walk into the lab, yet when you go to open the door, you find it locked. Strange. Looking inside the room, you find Jotaro hunched over his desk in focus, in the same clothes as the day before, having not yet unlocked the door. Even more strange. You knocked on the door, only for him to leave the room with another door in a hurry, ignoring your pleas. With a grumble, you dug for your keys, figuring his weird behavior was just fatigue, and that he probably slept over at work again.  When you finally get into the lab, you place your things down, and that's when you see it lingering underneath his desk in a rushed hiding spot. 
Encased within a thickly walled wooden box, an arrow remained, barely hidden from your gaze, as Jotaro had had no time to hide it from you. The latch was undone, another sign that Jotaro had run away from the scene.
Jerk. Didn’t he trust you enough to show you something like this? It’s just a bow and arrow! Why was he hiding it? You called out for him to return to the room and explain what the bow and arrow was for. Hearing no response, you turned back to the wooden box, reaching your hand in to inspect the bow and arrow. 
It all happened so fast. In the blink of an eye. 
There were no in-between movements. One moment you had pricked your finger on the razor sharp tip of the arrow, the next moment you were standing up, the box had been tightly locked, and Jotaro stood right in front of you, chest to chest, intensely staring you down. Your breath became ragged as you maintained eye contact with him. What just happened? You didn’t even hear him come in. The box was right before your very eyes, and you didn’t even see that it was locked. How did he even turn you around without you knowing?! A chill went down your spine as you hesitated to speak even a word to the man before you. 
“Do you see what was in there?”
 Jotaro asked you calmly. You felt a cold sweat form on your forehead. Jotaro, ever the impatient man, grabbed your jacket collar, shaking you out of your scared daze. 
“I’m asking you now (y/n)! Did you see what was in there?!” 
“No, I didn’t see anything! I don’t know what just happened! I swear! I saw you run away from the room and went to see what was in there and the next thing I knew you had come back and it was all so fast and I don’t understand and I-... Jotaro… you’re scaring me.” 
Your body convulsed at his rough contact, your hands reaching up to push him away, but his tight grip on your jacket remained steadfast. Pure instinct had compelled you to lie to him about seeing the content of the box, but the terror and confusion you had displayed was genuine. You still didn’t understand how he was able to move that fast, or affect you with you even knowing. Just who was this man?
Jotaro stared down at you for a moment longer, before releasing you from his grip and taking a few steps back. You stumbled back, grabbing the edge of his desk to stabilize your fall. Your heart continued to race in your chest as you heaved, still struggling to make sense of what just happened. 
Jotaro silently called out Star Platinum, having his stand hover right in front of you as you kept staring at him in confusion. Your expression didn’t change once he called out his stand. So you were telling the truth. You really hadn’t seen the arrow. Or at least, hadn’t touched it.
Jotaro sighed, rubbing the side of his head with a groan. He hadn’t stopped time in so long, but it seemed he was worried over nothing. “I’m sorry to frighten you, (y/n).” 
You finally straightened yourself out, gulping. “Who the hell are you? Really?!” 
“...I’m Jotaro Kujo. That is all.” 
Another chill ran down up your spine, but you played it off. If he wanted to continue things as per usual, you’d have to do the same. 
“Right… I brought breakfast. And there’s a morning meeting in half an hour so freshen up.” 
You walked past him to retrieve the food you had bought for them. Looking down to pick it up, you noticed a red blood stain on your jacket. It must have been from your bleeding finger when you’d pricked it on the arrow. However, when you turned to look at the finger itself, you found that it was fully healed, not even scarred, even after such a precise and direct cut. Jotaro politely asked you for the food, claiming hunger, and you rushed to take your coat off and hide it away. You got the sense that he’d question further if he saw the fresh blood stain. 
After that fateful morning, things continued on as per usual. You still had your questions, but after a few weeks had passed without another incident, you resolved that whatever that bow and arrow were must have been top secret for the Speedwagon Foundation. You figured no company could be as powerful as they were without keeping a few secrets. And this was one of them. 
So you resolved to ask no questions about that one day. The same way you didn’t put up much of a fight when, in the summer of 1999, after months of you two planning to stay there together, Jotaro told you that he would be going to Morioh alone to research for his PhD, without you. You were furious, enraged how the two of you could become so close since you began working there, yet he still didn’t trust you to go with him. You argued with him the night before he was set to leave, but his resolve never crumbled. You weren’t going to Morioh, that was final. 
In the three months that he was gone, Jotaro regularly sent you his findings, and you sorted them back at Speedwagon Headquarters. When he finally came back, more visibly shaken than he was before, you could only wonder what the coworker you had grown so attached to had experienced in Morioh in the summer of 1999. 
Circling back to the present day, it was the winter of 2000, and there was yet again a dark force afoot in the town of Morioh. Only this time, Jotaro would not go alone. 
“You have to let me come with you this time.” 
“Explain why. Explain why I have to let you come with me this time. I did just fine on my own before.” 
You gritted your teeth at the other’s stubbornness. “Will you please just listen to me? Jotaro when you came back from Morioh, you were even harder to deal with than before! Any sound in the office set you on edge and you screamed when someone set off fireworks near our building! And you still haven’t explained to me what happened there! Now let me come with you! I can help!”
Jotaro turned his attention away from his work, finally looking at you for the first time in that conversation. He hadn’t realized just how attached to you he’d become, how much you meant to him. You were his ticket into communicating with the world to his fullest, and after recalling several confusing conversations with Josuke, Okuyasu, and Koichi, Jotaro realized he actually needed you in order to articulate himself to the others without getting too anxious or angry. 
“Alright fine. We’re leaving tomorrow at 2. You better be ready.” 
But nothing could have prepared you for the horrors you were about to encounter in that small town. To your shock and disgust, you learned that aside from his research, Jotaro was investigating a murderer. And then you met Josuke and the others. That was when you first felt that you were going crazy. When you saw glimpses of third arms extend out from these teenagers, saw one of them heal a broken leg with ease, saw another erase space itself. People all over this small town were vanishing in thin air, and the incidents were happening more and more frequently. It didn’t make any sense, but no one was commenting on it, so you felt you were just imagining things. The same way you must have imagined Jotaro moving at lightspeed that morning you pricked your finger on the arrow. 
Finally, we return to the current scene of Jotaro hunched over his desk, his room in the Morioh Grand Hotel littered with documents, the board nearby covered in photos and string, the bedside clock reading 2:33 am.  You approached him carefully in the tense silence, knowing not to startle him whenever he was in deep thought. 
“...Jotaro-”
“Dammit dammit dammit! I’m sick of it! Where the hell is he?!” 
Jotaro slammed his fist down on the desk, his chest heaving in frustration. Why did this keep happening to him?! He just wanted to live a normal life, and he thought after Kira, he could. But like so many times before, Jotaro Kujo was wrong. Perhaps it was his destiny to be unfortunate. Perhaps there would always be another person stabbed by the arrow that would have it out for him and the others. Perhaps he was always destined to have a target on his back. Jotaro turned around to see you there, your form shaken from his sudden outburst. You’d never seen him that angry before. He met your gaze, unaware that you were sensing a vague presence of a being just above the man’s shoulder. 
He sighed, walking over to you. “I’m sorry to scare you (y/n). I’m just getting frustrated by all this.”
You hesitated to speak for a moment, flinching when Jotaro placed his hand on your shoulder. You look up at him with a glare.  “Tell what you haven’t been telling me.” 
“You’ve been with me in Morioh this whole time (y/n). We both know the same things about this case I-”
You shoved Jotaro back, the surprised scientist bumping into his desk. “Don’t play dumb with me Jotaro! There’s something you’re not telling me! Do you think I’m an idiot?! Do you think I can’t handle it?! Tell me why you and a bunch of fucking kids have to be the ones taking down a killer?! Why can’t you just leave it to the police like a normal person?! Just say it! I…  I can help you!” 
But Jotaro couldn’t tell you. You wouldn’t understand his world and the horrifying stands contained within it. He had to keep you safe. The moment you find out anything more will be the moment you die. 
“No… I can’t tell you (y/n).” 
“But that’s not fair I-”
“(y/n), I’m sorry, but if you ask me again, I’ll be forced to send you back home and have you fired from my lab. Try to understand me, I’m doing this for your own safety, but I can’t have you be near me if you don’t cooperate.” 
You stood there in shock. Would he really do that? Didn’t he know how much working for him at the Foundation meant to you? How much care that you put in for him and his work? And he’d throw all that away just to protect some stupid secret!? Who did he think he was?!
Your whole body began to quiver in rage at the other’s behavior. Just when you thought there was something between the two of you, something more than just a young professor and his assistant, he makes it clear that you mean nothing to him, and you never have. You watched the man before you, turn away from your gaze to focus back to his work. With a huff, you reach for the door to leave, your hand touching the handle. 
Then, it all went white. 
Your hand touched the handle, feeling the metal scalding to the touch. Before you could flinch back and yelp at the pain, a hand circled around your neck and another crept around your waist, the grip keeping you flush against another body. You look around the room, watching the color and furniture dissolve from your view until all you could see for miles was a white void. The only thing you could feel was the man with a locked grip on your neck, blocking your airway. You kicked to set yourself free, until you felt a ghostly presence cling onto your legs to hold them together. That same feeling washed over your wrists to bind them as well. The man holding onto you within the void leaned down to bring his mouth to your ear.
“No human on Earth is unable to feel pain.”
Your whole body shuddered at the deep growl in his throat. “W-who are you?! What do you wan-”
“I’m the one talking (y/n)!”
With that, his hold on your neck tightened ever more. How could he have known your name? You all had made a point to only use names in private in case the murderer was lurking around. So that means… A pang of realization hit you. He’d been hiding in this hotel room, listening to you and Jotaro was however long. Black spots appeared before you in your line of sight, your head was feeling lighter and lighter. You were becoming weightless. 
“In the split second that a human being first feels pain, that is when they are at their most isolated. At the first sign of pain, it’s every man for himself. When a man is shot, in the first moment he feels pain, he isn’t thinking of the man next to him that got shot in the brain. He’s thinking only of himself. The fight or flight response is activated, all other surroundings become useless. That selfishness, that hunger to be healed, that desire for self preservation, is what fuels Foreigner’s God, my stand!” 
Your eyes shot open at the last word. “A...stand?” You choked out.
“My stand, Foreigner's God, extends that initial moment of selfishness that comes with pain. No longer are there distractions that can bring someone back to care for others. No longer are there healers that can take that pain away. Your hand is still burnt from the handle that I heated up, so…”
He turned you both around and you saw through your hazy view, a body appear in the white void. It was Jotaro, the man frantically calling out your name and rushing between his room and yours in a search for you. At one moment, the two of you even seemingly made eye contact, and you saw the absolute fear in his eyes at the realization that he might have just lost you. Your mouth quirked up in a smile, and tears began to form in your eyes. 
Jotaro took a step closer, maintaining your gaze, and you felt relief in your heart that he could really see you. Until suddenly, he rushed to the night stand, fazing right through you and your assailant, not even noticing your presence in the room. You struggled to shout under the choking pressure as you saw him panic, reaching to the phone to call Josuke.
“Wait! Jotaro! I’m right here ah-”
“Didn’t I tell you (y/n)! At that critical moment of pain, it’s every man for himself! It’s just you and me in here! You’re in my world now, sweetheart. I allowed you to see Jotaro’s image, but he cannot see or hear you!” 
The killer turned your head to the side, ready to snap. But he had to wait, for his stand would deactivate the moment you were killed, and then he’d be left vulnerable to a furious Jotaro in that hotel room. He needed information about his opponents’ abilities, and Jotaro was playing right into his hands by calling his friend. 
“That’s it… That’s it Kujo! Call Josuke Higashikata! Call him! CALL HIM!”
You trembled under the rough grip, struggling to call out for Jotaro, hoping he wouldn’t call anyone and reveal any secrets. 
And then amidst the silence, the click of Jotaro hanging up the phone filled your ears. You watched the look of reflection on his face. Somehow, maybe it was because of years of battle with monsters just like this man, but Jotaro Kujo realized that you hadn’t run away. Someone was keeping you from him. And he was now more alert than ever. 
“Shit! He’s smarter than I thought! He must suspect there’s a stand attack going on.” 
The murderer grumbled before dropping you to the ground. He couldn’t kill you, not without proper info on how to defeat Jotaro and the others. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t hurt you. With a sharp kick to the back, the assailant managed to knock you away, breaking bones in your spine and leaving you immobile. Recalling his stand ability, the murderer managed to escape out a window without a trace, figuring you would lose consciousness. With a gentle thud, you toppled to the ground, right next to the open window. 
“(y/n)!” 
Jotaro rushed to the sound, seeing you lay there, gasping for breath. He turned to the open window seeing no one around. He had disappeared. And right under his nose too. How long had the man been in the room with them?! How dumb could he have been?! Reaching up to Jotaro, you muttered that the man had broken a few bones in your back and that you couldn’t move. 
“I’m sorry Jotaro. I didn’t get a good look at his face…” 
“Don’t worry about that! I’ll get help right away!” 
You looked up with hazy eyes as Jotaro rushed to the phone to call Josuke. After everything between the two of you, after everything he’s said to you, it was surprising to see just how much he truly cared about you. Holding the phone to his ear, Jotaro frantically told Josuke your condition and for him to get over here as soon as possible. Glancing down at your arm, Jotaro’s eyes shot open at the black ink that painted your skin just a few centimeters beneath your wrist. In all caps, as if the murderer was playing with you all, the ink wrote, 
“Foreigner’s God - AS.”  
- - - - - 
“Honestly Mr. Joestar, where does that grandson of yours get off running me and the others ragged like this? He sees one person with the initials A.S. in a phonebook and he sends me out across down to read them with Heaven’s Door.” 
Rohan Kishibe sat drinking his tea, absently working on Pink Dark Boy, waiting for Jotaro’s next move. His companion, Joseph Joestar, took a sip of his drink at Rohan’s rude accusation. 
“Hush now Rohan. We all put Jotaro in charge of his operation, given his connection to our main victim. All he’s doing is using your stand to its full capabilities.” 
The old man raised an eyebrow and Rohan got the hint. Mr. Joestar was the only one of the group that the snarky artist fully respected, so he would follow the seasoned stand user’s lead. 
A heavy set of footsteps entered the room, followed by a more uneven pair lingering behind. The two stand users looked up to see you and Jotaro enter. You were looking better since the attack. Josuke had healed your back of the broken bones, but the bruises and intense pain of walking remained. Moving with crutches, you slowly stepped out from behind Jotaro as the two of you entered the room. Jotaro, his face darkened in a mixture of unhealthy fatigue and intense bloodlust, approached Rohan’s table and slammed down a stack of papers. 
“Names, addresses, ages, and criminal histories. All here. I want you done with it within the next two days.” 
Rohan grumbled, standing up. “You’ve got a lot of nerve talking to me like that Jotaro. Not even a hello, not even an acknowledgment of your grandfather. He’s the only reason I’m letting you push me around like this you-” 
Jotaro took one step closer to Rohan, staring the smaller man down in silence. A chill went down the artist’s spine. Shown plainly in the scientist’s eyes was a haze of dark intent, of evil desires. He wanted this person dead, and for them to suffer. Joseph flicked his gaze up at his grandson, recognizing the expression from the other’s climactic fight with DIO. A tinge of worry filled the old soul. 
They needed to catch him, and catch him soon. 
“Jotaro, come on. We told Josuke and the others we would give them an update soon.” 
At the sound of your voice, raspy still from the attack, Jotaro’s face softened into its usual composure. He turned around to face you, and you gave him a tired smile. 
“Right, let’s go. Rohan. Two days, please. I’m counting on you.” 
Tipping his hat over his eyes, Jotaro held out an arm for you as you both walked to the rendez-vous point to meet with Josuke. 
Rohan still felt lost in the other’s murderous expression. It had been three days since your run in with Foreigner’s God, and Heaven’s Door’s user was one of the first to arrive at the scene in order to search for clues. He remembered reading a page drawn from your unconscious body; you had blacked out soon after Jotaro made the call for help. Josuke was working on your spine, and there was a tense silence about the room. A silence soon interrupted by the crash of wood hitting the floor. Everyone looked up, seeing Jotaro standing deathly still in his spot, meanwhile Star Platinum had escaped and had thrown the table over and smashed it into the floor. The rampaging stand turned to the board and knocked it over with a fierce punch, wood scraps and documents flying everywhere. 
“Hey Jotaro stop it! We need those!” 
Josuke yelled, drawing out Crazy diamond to hold Star back. In his blinded rage, the stand took a mindless swing, punching Crazy Diamond in the jaw and sending both him and Josuke flying into the opposite wall. 
“Josuke!” 
Koichi and Okuyasu rushed to their friend. He wasn’t injured too badly, surprisingly no bones broken; nothing a bandage or two couldn’t fix. The four of them, the three teenagers and the artist all turned to Jotaro in shock, who by this point had absorbed Star Platinum into his being. Turning back to face them all, they all got a look at it. 
The truly furious face of Jotaro Kujo. 
The calm and collected scientist now wore the face of violence, a face he hadn’t worn since Egypt. His eyes shone bright with a horrifying lust for vengeance. Those eyes looked away from the frightened stand users, towards your unconscious body. Without a word, Jotaro left the room, and the others let out a shaky breath in the tense air. Those eyes. It had been three days and those eyes were still ever present. Rohan shook away his discomfort and waved goodbye to Mr. Joestar, understanding now. 
Jotaro was not in this for justice. If Kira had hurt only you those months ago, Jotaro would have worn the same face. You were the key to Jotaro’s psyche and wellbeing. That was a fundamental truth about Jotaro Kujo. It was that day that Rohan Kishibe learned another fundamental truth. 
Sometimes, the universe places an answer in your hands when you need an answer the most. 
Half an hour later, it happened. It was in the middle of a secluded street, inhabited by only three people at that moment. A man. A woman. And the young artist, who had been so enraptured by his goal of locating the first name of his list that he barely had the time to react when it happened. And when it did, it only took an instant. 
The man in front of him quickly drew out a pocket knife from his jacket, driving its blade into the woman’s shoulder, unaware Rohan was behind him seeing the act in its entirety. Before the woman had any time to scream in pain, the pair vanished into thin air before the artist’s very eyes, and into the man’s stand realm. Rohan held his breath, frightened at the pair’s sudden disappearance. A stand user. It must have been. Was this him? Reaching quickly into his bag, Rohan Kishibe phoned his first line of defense.
You had been sitting with Jotaro and all of the Morioh teenagers when Jotaro received his call from Rohan.  
“What is it?” 
“I found someone. It’s either him or another one Jotaro.” 
Jotaro shot up from his chair, eyes blown out in stress. “Are you sure?! How do you know?!” 
Josuke, Okuyasu, and Koichi all grew the same expression of fighting spirit on their faces and you were sure danger was ahead for you all. 
Rohan tried to remain calm. “I’m not sure… Come over here with the others. We have a better chance of taking down whoever this is together. I’m by Owsen, two streets over…” 
Inside Foreigner’s God’s realm, the man  grabbed on tighter to the struggling woman’s neck as she gasped for air. 
“Please, please don’t kill me! Please don’t k-kill me!” 
But the man was hardly paying attention to her cries. He had brought a vision of Rohan into the void and was watching the artist’s movement’s while still strangling the woman as she writhed in pain. 
He didn’t like what he was hearing. With a grunt, the man turned the woman around to face Rohan’s vision, his hand still tight around her neck. 
She whimpered at the sudden motion, tears streaming down her face, meanwhile he stared boredly at Rohan talking on the phone with Jotaro and the others. 
“Hey bitch, who is that?” 
The woman just kept crying.  “Please don’t kill me!” 
Gritting his teeth, the man smacked her upside the head and tightened his grip around her neck. “Tell me who that is!” 
Her vision hazy, the woman took a good look at the eccentrically dressed man. “I-I think th-that’s Rohan Kishibe. A famous manga artist…”  She sputtered out. 
The man’s eyes widened. Rohan Kishibe. He was at the scene of Kira’s death. Could he be another of them? 
A fit of laughter took over him and he cackled, his jubilation mixing uncomfortably with the woman’s struggle for her life. Continuing to holler, the man dropped the woman to the ground and she remained there, coughing to catch her breath. 
“Oh that’s great! I’ve heard he’s good too! You ever read any of his stuff?!” 
She looked up at him confused, watching his face twist in excitement as he realized that he, a lowly stand user, was about to kill a man that helped take down the mighty Yoshikage Kira. Staring down at the ground, she shuddered at the sound of the maniac’s voice.
“Hey.”
A chill went down the woman’s spine. Suddenly, the man wasn’t laughing anymore. She turned her head to find a way to escape, seeing nothing but white everywhere. Why couldn’t anyone see what he was doing to her?! The man on the street with them, Rohan, why wasn’t he stepping in? It’s like they weren’t the real world at that moment. 
“...I asked you a question.” 
Tears filled her eyes again as she met his bored gaze. “W-what?” 
Drawing closer to her weak form, and kneeling down on the ground, the man before her grabbed a fistful of her hair and she screamed at the sudden jerking pain.
“I’m asking if you’ve ever read any of his stuff!” 
The woman felt a crushing pain in her chest, as if a mysterious force was stepping on her. 
“N-no! I haven’t! But please don’t k-”
“Hmph.” 
In a split second, the stand’s hands came around the woman’s neck and snapped it, and Foreigner’s God’s ability ceased. The man quickly his himself out of sight, seeing Rohan standing alone in the street. 
Rohan turned around at the thud of a body hitting the ground behind him. He looked over to see the dead woman, her eyes blown out and a thick ring of bruises around her neck. Just like what you had gone through. And there it was, the same tag that had been on your body after your attack.
 “Foreigner’s God. - AS. ” 
Bringing his phone shakily to his ear, Rohan muttered, “It’s him Jotaro. He’s just killed someone else. Get over here now!” 
Jotaro felt the same dark intent sweep over him as he heard Rohan speak those words. “Do you see him?” 
“No. He hid himself somehow. He’s nearby I bet. Waiting to get me… Come soon. I’m hanging up.” With that, the artist turned his phone off, staying on guard for any attackers. 
Jotaro hung up the phone call with Rohan and turned to the others to come with him. You stood up as well to head to the scene when you felt Jotaro’s hand roughly shove you down into your seat. 
“No.” He ordered plainly. 
“No?! You expect me to be useless again?! I’m the one he attacked first! I wanna see him go down and I wanna help do it!”
“I’m not having you go over there! You can’t get hurt again!” 
You stared up at him, shocked at the concern plastered all over his face. But still, you were stubborn. That’s one of the things he loved about you. 
“What about you?! What makes you sure you won’t get hurt?! Or even die Jotaro?!” 
“I’d rather that than you die (y/n)! The world needs you more than it will ever need me! And I can’t watch someone I love get hurt right in front of me again!” 
You stood there frozen, your legs feeling like they were about to give out at those word.
“...What?” 
Jotaro felt a hand grip his shoulder, turning to see Josuke motion for him to get going. They needed to catch this guy. And fast. Giving a quick glance to your shaken form, he knew you understood why you needed to stay behind. 
You did, of course, know him and his words better than anyone else on Earth. 
Jotaro began running with the others towards the scene and when he was a few feet away, you heard Koichi ask your beloved lab partner if he had any idea what kind of stand they were dealing with. 
Your mind flooded back to the words that man had spoken to you. A stand. That was the word he kept using. A stand. AS. Those were the initials of the man that nearly strangled you to death. Foreigner’s God. He said that was the name of his stand. A stand. Stand.
Your mind kept repeating that same word over and over again in your head as you stood there in the crowded Morioh street. All of these people. The people you had come to love. Josuke and the others. The strange lives they lived. Jotaro. The strange life he had drawn you into. They were all working to save the thousands of people that lived in this small Japanese town. 
You thought back on all they had said, all that you had overheard over the course of the investigation. Things you didn’t understand now flooded your mind. They spoke about the first trip, the killer. Killer. A man named Kira. Killer Queen. Killer Queen must have been his stand. A stand. Is that why you think you’ve been going crazy? Are those third arms stands? ...Did Jotaro have one? 
“Gimme… gimme… gimme… GIMME!”
Your whole form awoke from your deep train of thought at the sound of someone calling out to you.  You turned around, looking at all the people that were walking nearby. No one was even looking at you. You sighed. You supposed this town really was driving you crazy. You reached for your crutches and took one step forward- 
“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME!!!”
The loud voice rang violently in your head and you fell to your knees from the shock. Covering your ears, you foolishly tried to block out the sound. Your whole body began to feel weak, your whole being heating up. It felt like your blood was boiling, your muscles were tensing, an unwanted rage consuming every cell in your form. 
“What’s going on?! What’s happening to m-”
“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME!”
“Who are you?! What’s going on?!” You thought to yourself, panicking. What was this voice?!
“GIMME GIMME GIMME!”
“Go away…” You muttered under your breath as you knelt on the pavement.
“GIMME GIMME GIMME!”
“Go away…” Your voice subconsciously raised, drawing others’ attention. 
“GIMME GIMME GIMME!”
“GO AWAY!”  You let a shrill yell, grabbing violently at your hair in terror, causing a crowd of people to form around you. 
And then the voice stopped, a quiet renewing in your head. You sat there, gasping for air, your throat still burning from the attack days before, and your screaming had not helped it. You looked up at everyone staring up at you in shocked worry. In a calm daze, you stood up, grabbing your crutches and began to walk away from the others. 
Jotaro. Jotaro would know what it means. What that voice was. 
- - - - - 
Arata Sone had been Yoshikage Kira’s only friend as long as the killer had been alive. He was the only person in the world that Kira confided in. He remembered the night he met the blond murderer. One evening, the normal man came home from a very late night at work to a silent home, his wife sleeping upstairs. With a heavy sigh, Sone was about to enter his bedroom when he heard his wife let out a sudden shriek, before the sound immediately ceased into a renewed silence. Panicked, the man swung the door open to find another man about his age, standing in the middle of the room, a dismembered hand in his grasp. The hand was dripping blood onto the carpet, and Sone’s wife was nowhere to be found. Putting two and two together, the man felt a chill slither up his whole body. He remained stuck in his spot as he watched the blond man draw closer to him. Then something strange happened. Arata Sone knew that he should be afraid, knew that he should be begging for his life, knew that the proper thing to do was flee. But what he did shocked both himself and the murderer before him. 
Arata Sone laughed harder than he ever had before. 
Cackling loudly to an unsettling degree, he even managed to throw the calm and collected Yoshikage Kira off guard. After several minutes, the laughter died down and the man looked at the other before him with a wide smile on his face.
“Thank you.” 
For the first time in a long time, Kira felt a shudder rush through his body. 
“Thank you?” 
“I was waiting for a good moment to kill her myself.” 
In that moment, both men felt one of the great pleasures of life, a pleasure that can only come from being shunned for one’s desires for so long, and then to finally have that desire recognized by another being. The two men called out their stands and both fell into fits of laughter and joy at their shared murderous trait. A new friendship had been born.
A few years later, Arata Sone saw on the news the gruesome image of his beloved friend’s face crushed beneath an ambulance. Seeing what he could only guess were other stand users at the scene, his ever present lust for murder grew within him to a boiling point. Foreigner’s God’s user made a promise to himself. To kill those who had killed his friend. 
And today was the day to make that happen. The killer watched from his hiding spot as Jotaro and the others ran to the scene to see a very shaken Rohan Kishibe, who was wondering why the killer had yet to show himself. What none of them knew, was that their attacker had grown as a stand user. He was about to apply what his dear friend Kira had once taught him, and was merely hiding to get them all in one place. 
Sone waited for the group to get within his stand’s range.
You slowly made your way on your crutches towards the scene. You needed to know these answers. 
“Just a little farther…” He thought as he waited for Jotaro and the others to be within his grasp. 
“Just a little farther…” You muttered to yourself as you turned the corner, two streets away from Owsen. An ominous feeling crept over you, making you feel sick to your stomach. 
Finally, they were all together within his stand’s range. Arata Sone waited for the right moment, a sick smile on his face.
Jotaro went to speak. “Any sign of h-”
And then the attack was sent into motion. In that split second, each of Morioh’s fighters looked down to see a small mass of white matter form around their ankle. With the snap of his fingers, the matter exploded, taking a chunk off each person’s leg with it. Jotaro, Josuke, Koichi, Okuyasu and Rohan all collapsed to the ground as the street became consumed in a white void the moment they all felt that same sting of pain.
“No human on Earth is unable to feel pain.”
They all looked up from writhing in pain as the man they had been hunting down showed himself, the twisted smile on his face more present than before. 
“When a man feels he is at his most cornered, that is often when the most opportunities arise for him. My st-”
In a flash, Jotaro lunged forward, landing a punch to Sone’s face. The smile went away.
“I suppose I’ll take your hand next.” He grunted, grabbing Jotaro’s arm and slamming his whole body to the ground. The moment his hand made contact with the ground, another white mass formed around Jotaro’s finger and exploded, and Star Platinum’s user once again hollered in pain.
“Jotaro!” 
The other Morioh fighters called out to their injured friend and all of them got up to attack their enemy together. The moment they took another step, white matter formed once more around their feet and exploded again. The five of them were squirming on the ground in pain once again. 
“As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, Jotaro Kujo. My stand feeds on that first moment of selfish pain and extends it, trapping others in a blank void without distraction from their pain. It’s a terrifying ability when used properly, though I will admit, back when I attacked your little friend, I wouldn’t have been able to take you all on at once, and that’s the only reason I spared her life…” 
He looked down to see Jotaro’s face overcome with rage at your mention. It was a fruitless effort, but Jotaro lunged at his enemy again, only to be knocked on his back. The moment his body touched the ground, several bubbles of the same white substance engulfed the scientist’s back and exploded, leaving bleeding indents all over the tall man’s frame and causing him to gasp at the pain. 
“But you see. I have grown as a stand user. You may remember from the tag on your beloved friend’s arm the words Foreigner’s God. Well that my friends, is the name of my stand. Or no… this is something different. A new ability that I’ve learned. A swan song to my dear friend, Yoshikage Kira!” 
Their eyes shot open at the mention of that hardly forgotten name. “Kira?” Josuke muttered. 
“Oh right… an old friend of mine. I figured when I would be taking revenge for his death, I would use some of that explosive power of his that I loved so much. You see everyone, normally I would only be able to keep one person at a time in my realm. You can only hurt some many in one instance after all!” 
It was in that moment, Foreigner’s God revealed itself in its humanoid form right beside its user. Lunging forward, the stand attacked the stationary fighters, knocking them all to the ground. At the very second their bodies touched the ground, the same miniature explosions went off, extending their pain and keeping them in the dangerous realm. 
“Gimme gimme gimme…” 
You placed a hand against your ear trying to block out that annoying voice that was seemingly coming out of nowhere. You weren’t far from the scene, your mind still running wild, asking a thousand questions as to what a stand even was, what that voice just then was, who were the others really dealing with, what was this man capable of. You weren’t sure of what you would be able to do, but something within you drew your body closer and closer to the street where your friends were currently writhing in agony. You didn’t care about what Jotaro wasn’t telling you. You didn’t care that there were still questions that needed answered. You just wanted to help, anyway you could figure out how.
Staring down at their battered and bleeding bodies, Arata Sone let out another burst of jubilation amidst the void. 
“I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of this before! If you haven’t already noticed, my once empty void has now been combined with its own type of landmines. You cannot move without a new one setting off, and extending that pain further. You’re going to be stuck in here until you bleed out, with no one to hear you or see you! That is it the secret to my new ability, Arsonist’s Lullaby!” 
With that cry, the stand stormed through the five of them once more, knocking them to the ground once more, causing new land mines to set off, all to the tune of its user’s laugh-filled joy. It was then that white walls of the void were beginning to fade, and the scenery of that Morioh street was starting to fade back into view. 
“Hmm… it appears this ability takes up more of my energy than I thought. I suppose I can’t kill all five of you at once and remain invisible at the same time. No matter, I can’t sense any other stand users around, just the six of us. I don’t care who sees this! I’ll just kill the witnesses after I kill you!” 
It was then that Arata Sone made a fatal mistake, and just like his friend Yoshikage Kira, let his hubris take over. Removing the hiding nature of his stand, but doubling the landmines, the man watched as the five powerful stand users struggled to even get close enough to him to land in a hit. New landmines keep going off, new injuries created. 
They were dangerously close to bleeding out, all in plain sight of another stand user. You. 
You turned the corner to see the carnage ahead of you, finding your whole group in the enemy’s grasp. You couldn’t even tell what you were seeing. The moment one of your friends moved, they would immediately flinch back in agony. Drawing your attention to the man standing over them, a familiar chill went through you. That was the same man that had attacked you days before. And seeing what he was capable of doing to the people you had grown so close to, you were now more scared than ever of him. 
But you noticed something. Amidst the pleasure that this monster was reveling in, there was a distinct look of concentration plastered all over his face. You watched his expression twitch with each time an attack went off on one of your friends. He must be doing something with his mind to attack them. He was focusing. His focus. You needed to capture his focus. 
Steeling yourself for what was to come, you dropped your crutches and took a deep breath in, something in you knowing the dangers you were about to face, and the rest of you stupidly seeming not to care. 
With a small ounce of bravery, you shouted at the top of your lungs. “Stop it! I won’t let you hurt them!” 
Sone turned around at the sudden distraction, surprised that someone was taking notice. His eyebrow raised in intrigue. That could only mean one thing. You were another one. 
Jotaro recognized that voice. No… no no no. Looking up, he saw your frightened body shaking and staring straight into the enemy’s eyes without a way to defend yourself.
“No! (y/n) get out of here! You can’t be here! He’ll kill-” 
The killer turned back around and punched Jotaro straight in the gut with his stand, sending him flying back into a tree. 
“Jotaro!” 
You shrieked. All five of them were dying right in front of you, so close to bleeding out. And now his focus was on you, and it had taken all your courage to simply call out and distract him from the others. You watched as the man drew closer, ready to kill another. The same giant smile came over his face again. 
“(y/n) huh? And here I thought you were a smart person. Smart enough not to beg for me to hurt you again. But sorry, there’s no escape this time!” 
“(y/n) no! Run away! Get out of here!” 
You didn’t have time to register whose voice had called out to you before you saw the attacker lunge right at you. You put your arms up over your face as your body collapsed to its knees, your eyes shut in fear, and a horrified scream uncontrollably left your lungs. 
“Now die!” 
And then, you felt weightless.
“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME” 
As you felt a massive weight being lifted from your body, your eyes shot open to find someone new standing over you. Actually, you weren’t sure if it was someone new, or something new. This new thing, it didn’t seem real.
“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME” 
Your face lit up in shock. Attached to this new thing was the same voice that you had been hearing in your head before. You watched as its fists fired off in a flurry of punches, all hitting their marks on the man’s body. You were mesmerized by its appearance. Its body, about the same size as yours, looked as if it were made of glass. Swirling around within that glass was a pool of different colors. Different blues, purples, oranges and pinks flowed together seamlessly, all encased within the glass structure as it pummeled the enemy before you. 
“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME… A MAN!” 
With one last, hard punch to the enemy’s chest, the glass figure stopped its attack and turned around to face you. You shuffled back on the ground, your chest heaving in fear from what had just happened. The figure before you, without speaking a word, drew its arm forward to point at Sone, who was now frozen in his spot before you. Then, everyone watched as small ripples began to form over the man’s whole body. All over his arms, legs, and chest, it looks as if the flesh was moving, as if someone had dropped a pebble into a lake. Then the ripples began to glow brightly, the full spectrum of colors radiating out, and tearing their way from the inside of his body outward. The enemy let out a painful shriek as the searing pain overtook him, more and more light spilling out of his body as the flesh around it became torn and melted. Finally, less than a second later, an explosion of white light burst out of the man’s body. And once that flash was gone, so was he. Foreigner’s God had been defeated. And this thing that you could tell was a part of you, it had been the thing to kill him. 
Shakily, you stood up, holding on tightly to your crutches, keeping your gaze on this figure that had erupted out of you. 
“...ABBA?” 
Still confused, all you knew was that something in your body told you to say that name. The figure turned around to face you and gave you a shy smile before coming closer and embracing your shaking form in a hug. Surprised you could even touch it, you wrapped your arms around ABBA as well, finding to your disbelief that the glass like material felt soft and warm to the touch. You looked down its back, eyeing the pattern of jagged lines all over its body, as well as the swirling colors within. You felt your eyes well up with tears. Something about holding onto this being, one not entirely separate from you, felt so right. It felt like it had been welling up inside you for so long, and you couldn’t help but love it now that it was out. 
“A stand…” You muttered. It was all so clear now. Your stand.
After a few moments, ABBA stood up and nodded towards the group of your injured friends. Holding you up, both you and your stand rushed over to Josuke. The teenager’s eyes opened with a pained groan, looking up at you and seeing ABBA at your side. His face lit up in surprise and he tried to sit up before the crushing pain forced him back down onto the ground. He muttered weakly for you to see if Rohan was alright, and you did. 
Suddenly, a small white figure burst out of the artist’s body and punched Josuke in the arm. You watched, intrigued as a section of the teen’s arm unfolded like a book. The white figure leaned in, writing in Josuke’s arm the words, “I currently do not have any injuries.” 
You watched in awe as the bleeding wounds all over Josuke’s body slowly began to close. Within a few minutes, Josuke was up and mobile as ever. He had several questions to ask you, but first, he had some healing to do. You watched as a pink and blue being, you assumed Josuke’s stand, flew out of his body and hovered over all of the other injured, healing them nearly immediately. They all stood up, groaning from the shadows of pain still left behind from the attacks. One by one, each of them looked up at you, each of their faces growing an expression of surprise and adoration. You felt small under their gazes, looking up at your stand standing next to you. As small as you felt, there was something about ABBA that made you feel powerful. Especially considering what it had just done to defeat the enemy. 
“(y/n)... is that your stand…?” 
You looked over at Koichi before quickly nodding. “Yeah… I guess it must be right?” 
You tried to shrug it off with a nervous laugh, but even you were still in awe of this new ability. Finally, you turned to Jotaro, watching his face for a reaction. The gentle giant stood frozen at a loss of words, unsure of what to say. His gaze turned to ABBA, a melancholy look of admiration and love spread over his features. 
“Come on Jotaro… say something. Don’t worry. I’ll understand-” 
You muttered softly before Jotaro rushed forward and cut you off with a tight hug. You rested your smaller body against him, tears of relief streaming down your face, grateful that everyone was still alive. You looked up to gaze into Jotaro’s blue eyes, seeing that he had begun to tear up as well. Then something caught your eye. Looking over the tall man’s shoulder, you saw a purple skinned spirit faze out of your partner’s body and float over to ABBA, starting deeply into your stand’s face. ABBA, who had before been so calm and collected, now shrunk back a little bit with a childish giggle at the sight of the handsome stand before her. As ABBA held her face in her hands, you felt your cheeks flush bright red. Your eyes widened and you pushed Jotaro away from you, turning to your stand. 
“H-hey wait a minute! ABBA, it’s not like that!”
“Gimme?” 
ABBA asked innocently as she grabbed Star Platinum’s hand tightly in her own. Jotaro now felt his face heat up and turn bright red. With a heavy sigh, he watched as his stand wrapped yours in its arms, chuckling a bit at your embarrassment. 
“Sorry about all this. His name’s Star Platinum, and he’s definitely more… emotional than I am.” 
Your eyes widened at what that could possibly mean. Wait… did they think that you and Jotaro were… 
“W-wait it’s not like that! He and I are just… “
“Gimme?” 
“No! W-well I mean I care about him but I-”
“(y/n).”
You turned around to face Jotaro as he calmly took his hat off, revealing the jet black hair that you loved seeing. 
“I’m so glad you’re okay (y/n).” 
Your heart swelled at his words and you slowly turned around to see ABBA and Star Platinum holding each other lovingly, a warmth erupting throughout your whole body at the sight. The feeling of Jotaro grabbing your hand caught your attention and met his gaze once more. 
“He’s the personification of my thoughts and well… it seems like your stand, ABBA right? It seems like she’s the personification of yours.” 
The two of you watched as your stands talk to one another in their own little language, each enamored by the other’s presence. You turned back to Jotaro, seeing that his face had drawn closer. 
“Yeah… I guess... you’re… right.” 
As you breathed out that last word, Jotaro closed the gap between the two of you, your lips connecting in a sweet, long awaited kiss. You wrapped your arms around the fellow scientist’s, and now fellow stand user’s, neck, giggling slightly as he lifted your body off the ground to hold you tightly in his arms. When you two broke for air, Jotaro quickly kissed you again, holding you up like his life depended on it. 
When he finally set you down, Jotaro Kujo placed a hand to the side of your face and wiped away your tears. With a small laugh, he turned over to your stand.
“Hey ABBA, what took you so long huh?” 
“...Gimme.” ABBA shrugged a little bit and pointed at you. 
You smiled, wiping your tears away. “She said she wouldn’t appear until I was either ready for it, or I really needed her.” 
Jotaro rolled his eyes at your stand. “Well you really waited for the exact moment that she needed you huh-Ow!” 
Jotaro grumbled a bit as Star punched him in the arm, annoyed that his user was making fun of this new pretty stand. ABBA grinned mischievously before looking around at the rest of the group, and seeing all of the other stands. 
A feeling of happiness swelled within the stand’s heart. Ever since you had pricked your finger on the arrow, for so long she had been growing, becoming more and more trapped within you. It had been lonely seeing you struggle without her help. It had been upsetting to see you not yet be ready for her to show herself. But now, eyeing all the others, Heaven’s Door, Echoes, the Hand, Crazy Diamond, and especially Star Platinum, ABBA really didn’t feel alone anymore. And seeing now how the other stand users of Morioh rushed over to hug you and vocalize their shock at you having a stand, ABBA could tell that you didn’t really feel alone anymore either. With a sigh of content, your stand fazed back into your body as you followed the rest of the group away from the scene and back to the hotel to get some much needed rest. 
You leaned against Jotaro’s frame as he wrapped as a strong arm around you. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat everyone! Tonio’s, my treat!” He said with a bright smile. 
Josuke and Okuyasu cheered, “and (y/n) can meet Tonio’s stand!” 
You turned back to the teens in shock as you all walked ahead. “Tonio has a stand?!” 
Koichi gave a firm nod. “Yeah. So does Hazamada.” 
“That weird kid?!” 
“My girlfriend Yukako too.” 
“Damn… I had no idea…” 
You all shared a laugh as you left to enjoy a well deserved victory, the sun setting over the beautiful town of Morioh, another dark force defeated by the town's newest savior.
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breanime · 3 years
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It’s California anon. Tumblr wouldn’t show your ask button even though I refreshed several times and I was worried you got rid of it.
Some researchers are in Antarctica studying climate change, which is cool but also terrifying
Here’s a fun fact for you: since I am the California anon, here we go: our state flag has a grizzly on it but for several decades the grizzly’s were extinct in california due to hunting by farmers and such. They’ve since come back and are generally pretty harmless unless it’s a mama with her Cubs. If you run into one, make yourself big and scary and loud to scare them off. Generally if they see you though they’ll steer clear or walk away anyway. (One time a grizzly stole my cousins lunchbox from right next to my aunt. He was, funnily enough, eating a tuna sandwich). If you see a black bear, do the opposite and play dead. It will stop seeing you as a threat but it might sniff you just to check you out.
Another fun fact when it comes to wildlife in my state: if you see a cougar/mountain lion (same thing) DO NOT RUN. In the words of my teacher, you will become a large toy/the equivalent of a laser pointer for a very large cat.
Both of these (and many other terrifying survival facts) were taught to us on our first day doing field work... in an area with no cell reception and right before we were supposed to go off on our own which was fun (we mostly stuck to the buddy system after that lol). But I guess that’s field Biology for you, especially zoology which is what I’m studying. Super interesting and fun (for me) but it definitely gives you a good vibe check and reminds you to be cautious, think things through, and appreciate life (and not having to worry about rattlesnakes and other creatures all the time since I live in the city).
Sorry this is so long:(
Daily question: what sort of wildlife lives in your area?
If you don’t know or if you see or hear an animal or plant and don’t know what it is, you should use iNaturalist (for photos) or BirdNET (for bird calls) to identify them:)
This may be my favorite one yet! I love animal ones! I'm pretty terrified of bears, so I read up on them a lot and I love bear documentaries. I don't know much about the wildlife in my area though. Just... squirrels, deer, raccoons. Midwest things.
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xenbiology · 4 years
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ABOUT
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Hello! My name is Professor Alem; though you may simply call me Alem or Professor! My pronouns are they/them. I’m a biologist and author who studies and breeds Xen fauna and their history and relationship with humans. I mainly deal with headcrabs and their domestication, and have even bred a few new types myself! This picture is of me and Paz, a new pattern I am working on :)
I created this blog because I wish to share the information and make it more widely accessible to a human audience, and to answer any questions you all may have on my work!
- ALEM
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FAQ
So... what is this blog?
This is a Half-Life based askblog that takes place 200 years after the ending of Half-Life 2, and follows my headcanons of Xen biology! It’s is designed so you can send in questions, which will be answered ‘in character’ by Alem, a vortigaunt scientist. It’s also to keep track of any headcrab characters people might have made/adopted.
If you’re familiar with Professor Peach, it’s something sort of like that. Basically, you’re allowed to send in questions that are responded to by Professor Alem, a vortiguant biologist, as if you were a character in the setting. You’re also welcome to send in ‘ooc’ questions as well though!
I also just reblog a bunch of art and posts revolving around xen biology, as well as some memes and such.
This blog is intended to be 16+ because it might contain some upsetting or potentially NSFW content, but all in a biological format (discussions of animal abuse, art of meat/dissections, discussion of breeding behavior and anatomy, etc). Everything will be tagged generously. There won’t be any condoning of mentioned behavior, and no explicit porn or heavily NSFW images.
If you need anything tagged that I didn’t, please let me know.
So is this a roleplay blog?
Er... not exactly. It’s more of an in-character ask blog. But if you have a similar blog, I wouldn’t be opposed to interacting.
Am I allowed to use these headcanons?
Yes, go ahead! I would be thrilled to see anyone using any of these, or even something based off of these. You’re allowed to mix and match and change anything you want for your own personal use. You’re free to make OCs or characters based on any of this stuff too! Make a headcrab! Make a scientist! Go crazy go stupid!
Am I allowed to do fanart / fanworks of _____?
Yes!!!! You’re 100% welcome to draw (or write about, or.. whatever) Alem, any of Alem’s crabs, your own takes on anything or any biology, or just. Anything from or inspired by this blog! I would love to see it!
If you do, please DM it to me- I don’t check my email often, and don’t see @’s! I don’t mind at all!
Who’s the mod?
Hello! My name is Rhi / Bees / Toad, and I’m the mod here behind Prof. Alem! My pronouns are they/them, please. I’m 21, neurodivergent, nonbinary, and going to college for zoology babey!
I run this blog because I think headcrabs are neat, and I love to worldbuild, especially when it comes to biology! You might recognize some of my art and ideas from my other blogs, listed below.
Main || @toadsong​
Half Life / HLVRAI Sideblog || @black-mesa-slut-voice
Art Sideblog || @bees-draws
If you have any questions for me, feel free to send in an ask! Please specify that it’s either directly to me or OOC however, so I know not to answer as Alem!
What exactly is the setting here?
As I mentioned, this blog takes place 200 years after the events of Half-life 2. It sort of... diverges a bit from canon there, since we never got a full conclusion to the story, but this world is working under the assumption that the resistance managed to drive off the Combine from earth, and humanity started to rebuild... but now has alien neighbors and creatures.
Vortigaunts are seen as normal residents and have just as many rights as humans, and it’s not uncommon for them to mingle together as complete equals. Though vortigaunts didn’t used to have names, they must at least legally choose a name to put on paperwork; and many vorts choose to use it for the ease of humans around them, since they’re not tapped into the vortessence.
A lot of animals are extinct in this universe due to the Combine, which is part of why aliens as pets and livestock is much more common. There’s also several new and synthetic species created in the absence of some, which were made by humanity thanks to leftover Combine knowledge.
Technology is roughly in the modern-day level, though some knowledge is more advanced than today’s thanks to leftover Combine tech, and some knowledge is less advanced or lost completely thanks to the destruction of information databases by the Combine. But roughly 2020′s level tech!
Where’s Gordon/Barney/Alyx/etc?
Unfortunately, despite the tech advances, immortality hasn’t been invented yet, and most people can’t live for 200+ years. They’re long passed by now... though the vortigaunts never truly let them be forgotten. Thanks to the vortessent hivemind, Alem knows them just as well as any other vortigaunt knew them. You’re welcome to ask them questions, though they may not be comfortable answering. I have lots of headcanons on them as well, which I might sprinkle in, lol.
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RULES
Do not interact with this blog if you’re a bigot. This means do not interact if you’re LGBT+phobic of any kind, antisemetic, a nazi, anti-blm, pro-cop/’blue lives matter’, racist, ‘pro-ship’/pedo/MAP, etc. This includes transphobia, biphobia, and panphobia. If you’re nasty you know who you are. Get outta here!
On that note- despite the warning above, this blog will not particpiate in any political discussion or drama. I simply do not want nasty people interacting with this blog. If you want to discuss anything, at the very least, go to my main/sideblogs. The exception of this is if I reblog something from a nasty person/source- I try to do a brief check of who I reblog from, but sometimes I’m tired or lazy. If you notice content come from a questionable blog, let me know, and I’ll remove it!
Please try not to send in overly explicit or horny questions. Though this blog may discuss mature themes, such as discussions of breeding behavior and anatomy, it’s not going to be horny in nature.
Be aware that if your question is ‘in character’, Alem may refuse to answer it. Unless you’re a recurring person or someone they feel comfortable with, don’t send anything overly weird or personal. Alem is a professional, and is always more than happy to share things they know (sometimes too much), but even they have a line they won’t cross sometimes. On the other hand, even if Alem might not answer it, I probably will! I love to answer questions, even more than Alem :D
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botaniia · 3 years
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Anyway, that post about the centipede got me thinking about the good times we had with dissections
In high school, when I was like 14, during my first heart dissection I almost fainted and got really sick. The next heart dissection 4 years later I could manipulate the heart without any issues but didn’t get hungry from it. It’s only when I started studying biology that our zoology practicals started making me hungry. I’m not someone who experiences hunger on a regular basis (unless I’m on keto), just a craving for food and flavours, but those practicals were the only thing that could make my stomach growl. 
We often dissected aquatic animals (sea centipedes, Aphrodite’s fuzzy pussy (that’s actually what the species is called look it up lmao), starfish, fish, squids, sharks, etc.) and those have a certain disgusting but also mouthwatering smell to them? The only thing that truly stank was the shark’s stomach contents and when you puncture a bowel.
I study in group with several other students, some of which physiotherapists, and for their anatomy classes they have to dissect human bodies. On one hand, they say that you get used to the idea of working on a human body is something you get used to real quick. On the other, they say that they also get hungry during them. 
Of course it’s not a universal experience, especially since I’ve been everywhere on the spectrum from nauseous all the way to hungry over a span of 6 years, but people get so offended at the prospect that someone may get hungry around fresh meat and that’s why I keep coming back to tumblr
If you’re working with dissections and you haven’t met anyone who gets hungry during them, that just means they’re uncomfortable telling you and by the tone of these kinds of tags that’s because y’all are too quick to stamp someone as deranged lmao
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boundarycrossings · 4 years
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Time, Love, and Memory
The first ever inkling of a life goal began when I was 12 or 13 years old, when I read a biography of Seymour Benzer, called Time, Love and Memory. I had always loved science and natural history as many children do, but somehow it was the notion that something as ephemeral as behavior had something as concrete as a genetic basis that captured my imagination more than anything else. I decided then that I, too, would become a behavioral geneticist, just like Seymour Benzer.
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Grafitti - Newtown, CT (2020)
I gave up a lot of things I took up as a kid. 
In chronological order: piano, saxophone, skateboarding, snowboarding, guitar, knitting, sewing, graffiti, printmaking. I couldn’t seem to make anything stick, except the single concrete goal of becoming a behavioral geneticist. 5 years later, I started as a freshman in biology. It wasn’t Caltech, but I was finally in a Drosophila lab.
But reality so rarely lives up to expectation. Looking at the anesthetized flies under a microscope wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be. Or maybe it was exactly all that it was cracked up to be. As I had cycled through various instruments, I cycled through various lab courses - spending weeks studying the visual systems of locusts, sucking up transparent little worms with pipette tips - until I landed in a fish lab.
For almost 2 years I studied communication behavior of little tropical fish. Popping out the tiny popcorn brains out of anesthetized fish somehow didn’t gross me out as much as the fruit flies did. I even got to be surprisingly adept at freezing and making impossibly thin slices of the brains. Yet, I still found reality lacking. In one particularly depressing incident, the basement flooded over holiday break, wiping out several large tanks of fish. Being the one lucky research assistant who happened to be around the next day, I was tasked with cleaning up the dead fish which had been marinating in the tropical heat overnight. Ankle deep in dead fish soup and cleaning chemicals, I wondered what I was doing this for, and whether I should consider an alternative to being a behavioral geneticist - something that I seriously hadn’t done since starting down this path.
Being a lowly (and worse yet: broke) undergrad research assistant, there were no trips to the jungle to carry me through the daily grind of lab work. Biostatistics didn’t come naturally to me. I was - and still am - an inefficient writer. I would dream of projects far beyond the scope of an undergrad honors thesis, and the smaller projects within my scope didn’t motivate me in the same way. I barely finished my thesis on time. Although I stayed on another several more months to try to expand it into a real publication - because after all, publish or perish - the fish kept perishing at inopportune times. It made me want to perish. The editing process became physically painful. My initial dream of unlocking the biological basis for human behavior had been downgraded to unlocking 1 particular gene’s expression in 1 particular fish, at a particular point in its short life.
It is human nature to apply everything around us to our own lives and particular situations. We see human emotions in non-human animals, even inanimate objects. We apply the language of gravity to human attractions. In contemplating the trajectory of my scientific ambitions, I couldn’t help but think of the biogenetic law, the theory of recapitulation, that “ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny.”  An antiquated theory which states that in embryological development, the animal goes through stages that resembles various adult stages of the animal’s evolutionary ancestors. Discredited or not, it rang true with me - it felt like my journey recapitulated the journey of the field as a whole.
Science may have started its journey as a quest to find universal truths about the world in which we live, but through its maturation, development, as well as with changes within the larger societal context in which science happens, it became progressively narrower in scope, at least on the individual scale of pursuit. Aristotle contributed to classical mechanics as much as he did to zoology. Freud dreamt of understanding the entire human subjective experience. Seymour Benzer sought to find the genetic basis for behavior. My professors - as accomplished and as brilliant as they were - had carved out niches which seemed incredibly narrow compared to the historical giants.
Was this an inevitability? That as human knowledge accrues, there is only so much that you can expect to know, and to specialize in? That narrowing the scope of your dreams is just an essential part of growing up? Or was this the product of a larger societal force - the same neoliberal drive towards hyperspecialization, competition, and production pressures plaguing all of society?
I didn’t contemplate this very deeply at the time. If the choice was to publish or perish, I perished. The end.
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All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy - Newtown, CT (2020)
A year later, I was on the interview trail for medical school. Most questions about my research usually ended up becoming pleasant conversations about the interviewer’s fish related hobbies (I had no such hobbies outside of the lab). The one notable exception was an interviewer who asked me in a suspicious tone why I had done that research.
“Because all knowledge is valuable, and I found it interesting?”
She replied disapprovingly, “You will never get a grant this way.”
I was furious in the moment, but she was right. I never did get a grant that way. I did get into a medical school, though, where I found myself still drawn to the mysteries of human behavior, briefly contemplated a PhD in neuroscience, and ended up being a regular ol’ psychiatrist, MD sans PhD.
Regardless of my childhood ideals, science and academia could not be the refuge I sought from neoliberal capitalism. Having a modern scientific career is as much about “strategic action” and elevator pitches and branding as any other career in capitalism. There is little room for imagination and wonder if it doesn’t get you a grant, a publication, or at least an additional line on your CV.  Not that medicine is a refuge from capitalism, but at least I don’t have to publish if I don’t want to.
With all of the extra time indoors (and with encouragement of a few close friends, who are also admirable readers and writers), I have been reading a great deal this year, and sporadically, inefficiently, writing. These have been the few positives during the pandemic.
As I read again, I find myself equally enthralled by the accounts of field work of anthropologists, biologists, geologists, physicists, just as when I was 12. 
I wonder, in a different world, if I, too, could have been a behavioral geneticist.
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thebeautyoffandoms · 4 years
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Hello there! I was wondering if I can get a male romantic Demon Slayer matchup?
Appearance and style:
I'm a female, 5ft and 110lbs. I have short black hair and dark brown eyes. I'm slightly on the chubby side as well. I'm in between pale and light brown skinned. I'm a pure Filipino and I have prescription glasses. I've often been called a "soft girl" but I really don't have a certain styles. My clothes are often t-shirts, off-shoulders, (of multiple color and style) and any type jeans. Hoodies and jackets are a must in winter season.
Personality:
I'm often described as a chaotic motherly type of person. I love to tease others but it's not often. I can be loud and obnoxious at times but I prefer to stay quiet. Though with people I am close with I'm just naturally loud. I can also be such a flirt if I wanted too but I only reserve those skills when needed. Like when I'm trying to make my friends fluster or when someone flirts with me, I flirt back My patience is very long and I don't get annoyed easily. Affection and words are my love language. I tend to get just a tad bit grumpy when I don't get affection. I'm a really observant person, so I'm able to pick up emotional cues, habits, and body language. I use that to check on people I care about. I try to act tough and strong so I would be a role model, since I'm the oldest child. I also tend to suppress my emotions and even fake them just so no one would be burden of me. I do share them if I trust you enough. I can also be really insecure about my abilities and looks.
Flaws and strengths:
I can be really insecure and really clingy. My insecurities tend to refer to my looks but most of the time on how I acr. Not only that, I can also be moody, especially on that time of the month. I overthink things a lot. I sometimes even wonder if my friends actually are my friends. You know, all that trust issues (but honestly I don't think I have trust issues I just overthink things a lot ). I'm not afraid of material things or the supernatural. I'm afraid of being judged and left alone or abandoned. I hate the feeling the loneliness.
But I do give good advice, that's what alot of people tell me. My optimism and energy almost always lifts the mood up. I'm great with talking to people. May it be comforting them, persuading, I can do that. I'm also quite good at reading people. Especially if they are close to me and I've been through things alot with them.
Random facts:
I usually listen to pop or ballad but I like almost all types of music. Songs like IDK you yet by Alexander23 or This is gospel by Panic at the disco are some of my favorite. My star sign is Cancer. I don't really believe it but I love learning about it. I'm an INFP-T (The dreamer) and my Hogwarts house is Ravenclaw! I love learning and doing new things. Science is my favorite subject, specifically Biology/Zoology. I sing and write stories as a hobby.
Thanks~ 💕
Hello!! You’re so welcome, and thank you for requesting! I hope you like it!! <3
For you, I feel like Inosuke Hashibira would make a lovely match!!
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While it may not seem all that like it, I feel like Inosuke would be able to relate to you in a few ways. He’s never had much when it comes to people who were there for him, so I feel like Inosuke has a fear of abandonment. While he covers it up with his tough, loud exterior, I do think there’s the part of him that worries about being left behind; like you, he also doesn’t fear much material or supernatural-wise. If he’s to find out you’re similar, while he may be poor at it (depending on how you see his methods) he will do his best to reassure you that he won’t leave. Though it may simply consist of bone-crushing hugs, rough headpats, resting his head on yours heavily, and shouting, it comes from his heart. I also feel like Inosuke would be attracted to a motherly girl, since he’s never really had that kind of person in his life. As for clinginess, Inosuke would be fine with that! Now, it may take him a bit to get used to it, but never think in that time that he doesn’t like it. He just doesn’t understand why a girl wrapping her arms around him makes his mouth feel dry and face go warm. After getting advice from Tanjiro and Zenitsu, Inosuke will begin to show you just as much affection back. While your words of affection may still throw him off, he’ll also try his best to return them. It’ll definitely be a… work-in-progress for a long while though, because the boar boy is not best with words. Goodness knows your patience will come in very handy. Inosuke is, as you know, the type of person who had to learn to think before acting. It’s not something that happens overnight, so you’ll be dealing with a very energetic, chaotic boy. He will appreciate your ability to read body language, as he probably struggles to put how he’s feeling to words. And, as for when you suppress your feelings, Inosuke heavily relies on his ability to detect changes. If he notices something even slightly off about you, he won’t hesitate to give you a big hug and pester you to tell him what’s wrong. Though, if it makes you uncomfortable, he’ll try to back off a bit. However, he will continue to insist that you talk to him until you give in. If you ever begin to feel insecure, especially about your looks, be prepared for Inosuke to start loudly going off. He’ll shout to you about how perfect he sees you as, and about how you need to appreciate your beautiful body, and how you’re perfect. While it may be a chaotic, and perhaps not completely ideal, way of encouragement, it clearly comes from the bottom of his heart. Please! Teach him how to write!! He will be so thankful, and honestly like a puppy the entire time. If you enjoy writing things like stories, please read them to him as well! He’ll be amazed at your skills, and praise you endlessly. Even more so if you’re to sing for him. Those are several ways to get him to become quiet and calmer. He’ll also really enjoy if you told him things you know about biology and zoology! He actually may know a thing or two, and would excitedly tell you the cool fact he knew. If you would, praise him for it, and his grin will grow even wider.
<3
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botanyshitposts · 5 years
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its been a while since ive like...introduced myself on here so:
-my name’s Van (short for Vandal. this is my Edgy Internet Nickname i chose at age 14 and now everyone knows me by it and i cant change it, im trapped)
-i’m a trans guy and use he/him pronouns (i started this blog as a GNC cis girl)
-i’m 19 years old and a sophomore in college, i’ll be a junior starting this coming summer. i attend a large public university in Iowa (in the midwestern USA, very much an agricultural state known for mass maize production). my formal major is biology with a concentration in plant science (many universities have dissolved their formal botany and zoology majors in favor of a biology major with certain concentrations, and my uni isnt any different). 
-i started this blog when i was 17 and in high school. i started learning botany when i was 15 and started this blog bc my parents and friends were sick of hearing about it
-I DO NOT DO PLANT IDENTIFICATIONS ON THIS BLOG. plant identifications take a long time to do on a formal basis (keying out a species in a dichotomous key) and i’m not educated or experienced enough to give a reliable identification by eye. if you’re looking for a plant in your area and are in the US, many county DNRs have local identification guides. otherwise, there are other resources around depending on what you’re looking for. 
-I DO NOT DO PLANT DISEASE DIAGNOSIS/PLANT CARE STUFF ON THIS BLOG. botany and horticulture are two different things. i do not know jack shit about how to take care of plants. i know why they do the things they do, and i know a lot of random things about the science and industrial sides of all that, but i literally cannot even take care of plants of my own. i kill them.
-i know a shitton about certain things more than others. i’ve done a lot of research deep dives into excruciatingly niche topics over the years. its wild
-i work in a public non-profit seed lab set up and run in an agreement between my university and the federal government. my job involves helping run tests on seed sent to us by companies, and then the scientists at my job analyze the tests and certify them for a variety of different things. some of these certifications are required by law, either for the companies or for the sale of the seed to farmers, which is why it’s a non-profit service in our case. right now i work in the germination department literally just putting seeds on damp paper towels to put in giant walk-in incubators
-my icon is a species from the succulent genus lithops. they look like asses
-ive considered some different stuff i want to do after college. my professors are encouraging me to go to grad school, so i might go into that, but i think if i could do anything i would just write about plants for a living, or so some sort of related botanical science communication. 
-i have several other blogs on here including a personal blog, but i usually don’t give those out on here unless asked off-anon to somebody i feel like i can trust
-i read all asks, but i do not read DMs. i have too many. i have so many fucking DMs on this blog. i have over 4,500 asks. there are over 35,000 of you now and i was not expecting this to happen, im so glad yall are entertained
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francisdominictan · 5 years
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________________________________________________________________ I always caught myself reading books about creatures of the unknown. It started probably when I was a young kid and would watch documentaries series about aliens, elemento, Bigfoot, and the likes.
Because of that I earned my fair shares of names and bullying in school due to my obsession. Like a good freshman I pushed up my glasses and disregarded it and moved onto college where I earned degree in Zoology and eventually masters and now PhD. Along the way I had discovered the things life had to offer; women, gym, sex, alcohols, and other things. Though, my first love was cryptozoology.
Together with famous scientists, zoologists, and marine biologists, we’re looking for new species and studying others of whom, we knew very little. I spent my late 20’s traveling around the globe. My colleagues and I found new insects, birds, reptiles, but none would fall into the strange or imaginary. In the scientific community, I made myself a name. I might find anything except Bigfoot, people liked to say. I enjoyed my little popularity.
I chose to work somewhere more conventional after those exciting years. As it was fun to create footprints around the world, I was sick of never being in one place over a couple of weeks. I would also like to spend more time to try to find these storied creatures than work on someone else's expedition.
I ended up teaching in the department of biology in a major state university in Northern part of Mindanao in the Philippines. I also started a club in cryptozoology that attracted a large number of students. I would take students to the alleged unearthly places, hot spots of unknown animals, and the likes with permission from the university. We always have a documentary of our trip; a blurred video and a grainy picture. It was enjoyable for the students and me. We never had any definitive information, but it helped them to think outside the box about what our world really is. My curiosity in it was a deep passion for trying to find the elusive that I want to witness.
Like I said before, my first love is cryptozoology until one foundation day of the University. I met Nap there.  She was this beautiful brown haired woman about my age, who taught creative writing in the English department. I knew that I instantly fell for her. I'm not now the scrawny nerd from high school anymore. I was fit, effective in my profession, and not too bad looking (I told myself that, at least).I used a corny pickup to show myself. We've smiled, spoke the whole party and exchanged number, and the rest is history.
We moved in together a few months after we began dating. We had many shared interests, but there were also many differences. She preferred to stay in, and I enjoyed the outside. She was more reserved and I was the extrovert. But we both liked a good book and wine. She’s also a writer who particularly likes to write about simulated creatures, which is why we clicked.
“Nap,” I said closing and setting aside her newest book as I lounged out on the sofa in our living room one night. “Did I already told you that you are an excellent writer?”
She was in our room folding the ‘fresh from the laundry’ clothes. “You already did. But I won’t mind if you tell me again,” she playfully responded.
“I’m wondering, where did you get your inspirations for these stories?”
She came towards me. I corrected my sitting and she sophistically took a seat to me. “I got them from my grandmother’s story.”
“Tell me more, please,” I said with agog evident on my face.
“With my cousins,” she began with a look of commemoration on her face, “Each summer, we would visit my grandmother in the Visayas. She was living in a Remote Village neighborhood. Many people haven't been there. It was a lovely town shaded by the dense canopies of the tree. Between the town and the nearest mountain, there was a large forest. Perhaps it was about a few hundred acres. Glassy lake, filled with fish and that emptied into a small river can be found at the base of the mountain. All children in the town would play in the wood, the river and the lake, yet past sunset was strictly forbidden. The town’s people, including my grandma, have strictly implemented this.”
“Continue,” I encouraged her with a smile.
“So my grandmother told me about the forest fairies and how they liked to trick people. They'd take me away forever if I disobeyed my elders. Such tales have always been disturbing to me. My parents didn't like that, but they agree that I should be inside before dark. The stories didn't get me too much worry, until one of the young boys I was playing with got missing in the woods. One night after a fight with his father, he ran away into the forest. They never found him, and the people of the town did not bother to look for him until after sunrise. I can't just believe that people would not go in the forest looking for the boy until it was sunrise, except that they all really believed in the fairies. My books contain fairies that are scary but are much better than those in the tales of my grandma. They never took people away.”
She raised her one eyebrow and asked, “It is your kind of thing, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked at her, frowning.
“You know… The unexplained creatures of the dark.” She looked at me with a smart-ass grin.
“Well, I heard and read about fairy folklore, but many cryptozoologists don't spend a long time on it. I never heard of a city that is fearful of fairies, particularly from an account on the first hand. Anything like that should be investigated.”
A vexatious grin stretching from ear to ear plastered on Nap’s face.” Very Good! My parents would like to meet you and I'd like you to meet them. When I was young, my grandmother died and my parents inherited the house. And a couple of years ago they retired. This summer, you can come with me and solve the fairy problem of the town.” She stood over me and gave me the puppy eyes to agree.
Like this, our summer plans were drawn up, and in early March, with Nap and a bag filled with my recording equipment, we booked a plane ride from Cagayan to Siquijor located in Central Visayas. Once there, we hired a rental car and drove into the forest mountains, which felt like hours. We left the winding road for an even hazardous two-lane mountain road. After 15 minutes, we reached at what looked like a ghost town. Several small businesses were shut down and looked like an unfinished hotel in the 1960s.
We pulled into the driveway of her parent a couple of minutes later. Her parent’s house was sitting in a few dozen houses on a short dead end road. The dark, majestic forest that she described to me lies behind her home. A majestic moon hidden by the cumulus cloud loomed in the distant background.
Her parents greeted us at the door with a smile. Nap kissed her mom and dad with excitement. I tried to cover my nerves and for the first time met my girlfriend's parents, shook their hands quickly and introduced myself as Francis, the man who was here to solve their fairy problem. Before saying through their teeth, they both smiled and paused, “Come now. The dinner is about ready.”
My awkward attempt to be funny seemed to be an outrage. Dinner went well and we spoke about our trip and what I've done at work. With our bellies full, Nap’s father invited me on to the rear porch for a beer.
"So you are a university professor of cryptozoology?” Nap’s father asked until he took a big swig of beer from his bottle.
"No, I'm teaching animal behavior and social interaction. I'd like to teach cryptozoology, but before I can, I need a written and approval of the curriculum." I sat in my porch chair and started enjoying my beer.
"I guess Nap told you a lot of insane fairy tales in our forests?" I took another sip from my bottle and looked at him and nodded a bit. "Everything’s real. Sounds dumb, but the whole thing is true. Those stories have been told by my wife, and I wouldn’t believe them if I had not seen a crazy thing or experienced that one night. Our neighbor's niece disappeared in that forest two summers ago.” He pointed at the wooden line right at the back of his yard and takes a second swig from his bottle.
“You want to see a magic trick?” He asked me excitedly.
"Um, sure," I said half waiting for him to take the coin out from behind my ear.
"Look at the back door. Today's sunrise is around 21:00. The lock will pop up around this time and it will swing open. No hands." He responds shaking his hands upward.
The courtyard of Nap’s parent was closed with one back door that leads directly into the forest. Some of the branches of the forest trees hang over the entrance. I didn't know how to take the statement from Nap’s dad. So I've been waiting. Behind the mountains, the sun slowly crept and the clock reached 21 pm.
As we sat silently in the back porch, I finished my beer. I was about to get up and let Nap’s father know it was the longer trick that I had ever been waiting for, the scraping sound caught my ear from the opposite side of the fence.
It started at the rear of the valley. It sounded like a child dragging a stick over his pickets while he was walking. Towards the gate the sound intensified. I concentrated on the gate and didn't pay attention to Nap and her mother, who had gone with us to the deck. The door latch went Ching and the gate slowly swayed as if softly pushed by an unseen force.
"No way," I murmured, as I started to walk away slowly from the deck to the back gate. I was pulled up on the deck by a powerful hand. I whipped my head around to see Nap’s father violently grab my wrist.
He said with a stern voice and look. "Don't go over there," he said.
Nap pulled me out of her dad. "Mom, dad… stop." She turned to me and said, "Tomorrow, I'm going to take you into the woods. It's all right. You are going to see.” She turned back into the house and graciously marched.
"All you want during the day, you can go into the forest, but once the sun sets you have to come back," Robert cut me off before I could go in. I stopped and looked at him. His face was genuinely anxious. Nap’s mother has the same look on her face.
I agreed and that, as Nap’s parents insist upon being away from the woods after darkness, I came inside feeling a little confused.
That evening Nap and I prepared for bed and she laid her head on my chest. I tried to work together if her family had really believed in "fairies" and if their facial concern was sincere earlier.
"Doesn’t your family really believe in the fairies?" I ask Nap.
She turned around and put up her head in front of me.” "It's humiliating, not because they really believe in this, but because they’re so strongly confident that the woods are a bad place. I would have run into the woods many times if I had been rebellious as a kid. When I was a child, they started to act as my grandmother. I don't know how the gate trick is done by my father, but it gets older. Two years ago he pulled it on me, saying it wasn't him.”
The more she spoke, the more annoyed Nap became. "Tomorrow, I will bring you to the woods. You’ll see. As a child, I used to play there. Nothing's wrong with it.
I firmly held her to my side, gently kissed her. "Ok, we'll go to have an adventure tomorrow." I said before dozing off
After breakfast Nap took me into the forest the next morning. She showed me everything she had been able to remember from her childhood. She showed me her favorite trails, which had slightly become overgrown. She showed me her favorite river spot and her favorite lake shore. Here and there, the lakeshore was littered with dead fish but oddly no trace of rotting fish.
An old foundation to a building that never began was on the lakeshore. Nap said in the 60's it was intended to be a lodge for tourists but it was never done. The crumbling foundation was covered in moss, and looked more than anything else like a pathetic version of Stonehenge.
It was about noon and we decided to go back into the woods to have some lunch at the house of her father. As we walked hand in hand through the woods on trails I was surprised she was still able to navigate memories from her childhood. I noticed the mahogany were almost all brown or brownish green. Their trunks were rather large, even swollen, as if they were stuffed with something, and most of the underbrush was dead or seemed as if it were dying.
Nap reported that the summer and spring of the last few years had been little rain. I thought it was odd that the forest was going to dry out but the river and the lake didn't seem to be at low levels.
Robert brought the subject of cryptozoology and my interest, “Have a chat with John Salon. He is town detective, who lives down a few streets. He is also the last of a tribe who lived here once. He's kind of an amateur historian for the region and has lots of stories to share about the woodland fairies. I'll call him and tell him that you're coming over. "Robert gave me his address and that afternoon, at Nap’s encouragement, I went to his house as Nap and her mother planned to go shopping in the next town.
I knocked on John’s door. The lock unlatched and the door slowly opened revealing an older man.
“Are you John?” I stick out my hand for handshake.” I’m Francis Tan and..-“
“You want to know about the fairies at the woods?” He said cutting me off. “Robert already told me about you. Please come in. I have only few hours before I need to head to work to cover a night shift.”
I walked into his house. It was huge and packed with mounted animals, fish and a number of what seemed to be memorabilia from farther south. He led me to his living room, and guided me to sit down. His living room walled by filing cabinets and bookshelves on all sides. There was no TV, and the most surfaces were caked with a thick layer of dust.
"So what can I tell you," said John, slowly taking a seat in the chair opposite me.
"Well, whatever you know about the forest, or the supposed forest monsters," I started. "I'm researching unknown beings, mythological creatures, or whatever you want to name them, and I'm familiar with folklore fairies, but I've never seen a whole town that seemed to fear these monsters."
For a moment, John leaned back and looked up at the ceiling, as if to recall his thoughts.
"My tribe was the first to settle that area, or rather my ancestors. We were once, as the oral tradition goes, a large and proud tribe that had great numbers in Siquijor long before the Spanish came. A harsh winter run and war with other tribes cut down our numbers and our enemies drove us out of our original land. We wandered around until we found the place. Cold, hungry and desperate for shelter, we felt blessed to have found a place with good hunting, the mountains to shelter us, and a river and lake to provide fresh water for us.”
I looked eagerly at him, as he took a little break to remember his words. He sat up in his chair, and leaned forward.
"Some strange creatures that lived here prevented us from entering the forest. My people would call them Engkantos. They said that they were here before, guarding the forest. The chief seeing his people starving and having no place to live struck a deal with the creatures from the forest. We could hunt fish, stay here and they'd protect us as long as we agreed to give them one of our own once every moon cycle.”
"Wait," I cut. "So ...... just like a sacrifice?”                            
"Yes" continued John. "We'd send one person into the forest each full moon. The cries will fill the sky of the night. It was a terrible thing but the chief made the offer for us to live and we stuck to it. Many years passed, as we lost ourselves one after another. Our numbers would gradually decrease over time, but those who remained had hunting food and fresh water.”
John got up from his seat and walked up to his bookshelf, pulling out a leather bound book, the edges were yellowed from age.
"This book," he said, "Contains all the stories about Engkantos that have been passed down to my tribe from generation to generation. When I was young, I had started writing them down before they all died. I'm the last one and I thought somebody could record it so others could know what we've been experiencing.”
"When the Spanish came into our land, it all changed. It was one man at first. He was an explorer. We didn't consider him a threat so we let him pass. However, he did find gold in the water and he told other people. Eventually many others turned up in the river looking for gold. They brought crucifix, meats, beads, and weaponry and taught us religions. They were willing to trade for small pieces of land so that they could prospect in here. We consented. The prospectors supplied us with new stuff and we were exchanging small parcels of land for them. The Spanish people cut down trees to make the clearing that now sits out of town. They constructed houses. They fished and hunted. Each full moon, we no longer sent one of our own to the forest.”
"So the sacrifices stopped because you got necessity from the settlers?" I asked. "What about the creatures that you deal with?”
"We lived alongside the Spanish in harmony," John began again. "There was rage among the Engkantos because we broke our deal. They'd watch us in the shadows, from the tree line. The extreme fury could be felt. One night, several prospectors who were fishing the lake in the forest came late. One of them was taken violently by the Engkantos upfront the others. Their screams had filled the air of the night. The survivors did flee and never came back. They left their possessions and even their money for they were so frightened. Those who had been past dark in the woods soon began to disappear. No trace was found.”
John sat down and breathed deeply. "As people began to flee the woods after dark, they tried to trick people into going into the woods. During the night they would imitate the sounds of kids or loved ones. Anyone who enters into the woods would be taken. They took our tribe's three mothers once because the creatures were crying out on the forest line like children. The women fled to save the "babies" only to be killed. They only took one person at a time but began to take more as revenge.”
"They can imitate voices?" I asked.
"Yeah" he began as he rubbed his head. "They can use anybody's voice or sound so you’d be lured into the woods.”
"Why do people still live here, then?" I asked. "If it is cursed, why not leaved?”
“My people agreed to keep this place guarded and keep people from going here. They made a deal and broke it. But, regardless of what they did or said, the word still made it out about the fishing and hunting or gold in the river. People would come and they would vanish. A party heard about fishing, and tried to build a lodge on the shore on the lake. All are gone. We were trying to warn them but they were calling us crazy. This town and forest has only recently gone unnoticed by the outside. In the last 10 years there have been only a few disappearances.”
"I saw the foundation." I sat up in the chair as I got drawn more and more into his stories.
John got up and walked to one of his filing cabinets. He pulled a black binder full of paperwork.
"Here," he said with a motion to take the binder.
"What is it?" I asked him as I take the big binder.
"I am in charge of all the missing people’s cases. They're all here.”
"That’s crazy," I said while opening the binder.
"Many people say I'm a useless detective. I know what happened to those people, but you can't put it on an official report and still keep your job. If you look at the reports, the pattern is the same for everyone. All of those people were last seen in the forest before darkness.”
I finished my conversation with John, as he was about to get ready for work. He had been operating from two towns on a missing person case. He let me borrow the case binder and the book about the stories of his family.
The next day after taking Nap over to the next town for breakfast, I went door to door asking people what they knew about the creatures. Many hesitated to speak with me until I explained who I was, what I believed, and that I intended to study what was happening. I had been warmly welcomed into their homes.
People in the town had a vast array of stories. Tales ranged from family members vanishing to hearing odd voices at night, to seeing groups of travelers vanish without trace. Many were older tales of loved ones wandering late into the forest and failing to make it out before sunset. It seemed that everybody believed in the creatures that inhabited the forest, but no one had ever seen one. An older gentleman reported that his sister had gone on an afternoon walk into the forest and never returned. He could hear her voice calling from the woods to him every night, but he doesn't dare to enter. Eventually the voice stopped.
I devoted the rest of the afternoon to taking notes on all the missing people’s cases. I just stopped kissing Nap farewell, as she and her mother left to get chico fruits in the forest. In an hour, or two, she had expected to be home. I was comfortable with her leaving as it would have been many hours before the sun had gone down.
Every case had the same set of circumstances. No clear explanation was given as to why the people were missing. News clippings placed the blame on people getting lost in the vast outback, or on the likelihood that these people could run into wild animals.
I closed the binder full of cases and sat back in my seat in the living room, exhausted after all my note taking. I took a deep breath and stood up to collect the binder and book that John had let me borrow.
I finished collecting my stuff and walked to John’s house to return his articles. He was sitting at his front porch when I arrived, still in his police uniform with a beer.
I handed the book and binder to him, and took a seat next to him.
“What do they look like?” I asked.
"Who?” John answered sitting up a little straight as if shocked by my question.
"Engkantos or the fairies or whatever you want to call them. So what do they look like? I don't have any descriptions in the text you gave me." I stood up and looked at John with a stern look.
"It's a full moon tonight. In the last ten years just a few people were lost in the woods. They are mad. You can sense them in the current. I will be retiring in two years. I have spent my life trying to find those people that were missing. During day I’m in the forest. They are difficult to see. They are very slender and tall. You can see their outline amongst the trees if you look hard. It's very hard to figure out but hundreds of them are there. They're not going to move until dark but you can look among the tree line and see them standing still, even now.”
John pointed from to the woods that were across the road. I looked hard but in the fading light, I could see nothing but trees. I thanked him for his time and resources, and made my way back to the fading light of Nap’s parents ' house. The sun had set, and a cool breeze swept across the road and into the woods as if the forest itself were breathing in. I walked down the broken sidewalk looking into the dark trees to see if I could get a glimpse of what John had described. The moon was full and bright. With a slightly bluish hue, it seemed almost like day out. There was no echo. No crickets. No animals scratching. The night air was packed with just the wind and my footsteps.
"FRANCIS!!!!!"A scream of blood-curdling echoed just inside the line of the trees.
That voice. I knew that voice. It was from Nap. The hair on my neck was standing up straight. My heart started pounding with a violent fervor. Nap and her mother hadn't come back when I left. What if she did not make it from the woods? What if they hurt her? What if they had taken her?
"FRANCIS!!!!"The scream echoed again. This time it sounded as though she was in anguished agony.
I was twenty yards deep in the woods before realizing what I was doing. My eyes agitatedly scanned everywhere. "NAP!" I screamed. Only dead silence. The moon was so vivid that from the light shining through the tree branches I could make out almost everything. "NAP!”
I was breathing through my mouth. My breaths matched my heart's tempestuous pace. I stood in silence. I looked closely at the thick canopies before me. My vision spotted movement. I'm not alone. There was movement but I could not see exactly what it was. It didn't make any noise whatsoever and it seemed opaque, almost invisible. As if opaque forms melded into reality from nowhere.
They were the height of man. The skin was pale. Their legs, arms, and body structure were thin. Their skin looked dry and it was ridging like worms. A head was in the shape of large white sideways cones with no features but a small black hole in the forehead.
My muscles tensed as pure terror flows through me. I couldn't move. I was awestruck and was filled with terror. There were dozens of those things before me. They all looked the same appallingly. I wanted to run but I couldn't. One slowly moved toward me. It stopped 20 ft away from me. It was dead quiet. My heart shook so hard that I could hear it.
The hole at the front of his head was growing bigger as if something were pushing out of it. Like the peeling of a sausage casing this thing's skin pulled back and the head of a young woman seems to be out of the black.
My jaws dropped. I felt my heart was beating in my ears. Her hair looked black and greasy. Her eyes were ovals black. Her skin blenched. She stares at me. It felt like an eternity as I looked upon at this monstrosity. She opened her mouth.
"Francis," she spoke. I recognized that voice. It was Nap’s. Confusion took over. The woman head on this creature bent sideways in a horrible way while staring at me with a blank expression.
"Francis... Francis... Francis..." Nap’s voice echoed more frequently and more intensely. Then from her mouth burst an ear shattering maniacal laugh. My face was strewn with tears as my lips began to shake. It stopped. The woman's face split from jaw to forehead in half spreading from side to side as if it had been cut by, exposing a mass of razor-sharp teeth and flailing tentacles like tongues.
The creature shrieked. It was so high pitched and growling that it shook the forest and buzzed my ears. I fell on my back and for the first time since I saw the entity, I could now move. I amokly shuffled my legs backwards to propel me away from the entity. The creature fell to all fours, and then charged me as inhumanly as possible. I realized that there was no way I could get up and out run it in time. It was about to consume me. I put my hand up to cover my lip.
"No!" I cried as I looked away. Nothing. I didn’t feel any pain. There was no creature landed upon me.
"FRANCIS... MOM... DAD... NOOOO!!!!" It sounded like a scream from Nap, but this time it sounded like it came from her home's direction. I got up straight away trying to understand what was going on. The creatures had gone but something moved violently away from me in the underbrush, tearing up ground and shaking branches as it went.
"Ana, NO! “Another voice resounded. It was owned by Robert. I was still confused and afraid but I wasn't going to stay any longer in this woods. I raced to Nap’s parents’ house as fast as my legs could manage.
Robert restrained Ana who was sobbing in the backyards, "Let me go... Let me go..."
"She's already gone. They might also take you,' replied Robert, hugging his wife with all his might.
“What happened?” I commanded.
"Oh my God, Francis," said Robert in horror, turning to me. "Nap swore that she heard you scream in the woods, and ran after you. We tried to get her to stop."
In the distance, a cry of Nap’s agony rang out. My fear and the rush of adrenaline transformed into rage. They took my wife. Those hideous things took the woman I loved. I went to the garage without thought, and scooped up the gas can that Robert filled up earlier in the day. I searched the garage frenzied, and found a torch of propane on the shelf. I quickly made my way through their backyard to the tree line.
"Robert, hold this," I ordered while shoving the lighter propane into his arms.
I started to pour the gas on the trees carelessly, and the brush along the forest line.
“What are you doing?” he asked with a puzzled look on his face.
I looked at him dead in the eye and coldly stated, “Give me the torch. I'm taking the woods from them, if they want to take her.”
He gave the torch that I just forced him to hold reluctantly.
The woods were dry. The wind blew in through the forest. I opened the valve for propane, lit a torch and threw it into the brush. There was a towering hell ahead of me in seconds. Robert and Ana were stunned by what I had just done. The fire burned fast and moved faster. Soon the whole town stood on the road, watching the forest they knew about consumed by blaze. With rage in my eyes, I stood still between them.
Suddenly, horror and pain filled the air with inhuman shrieks. They were like a knife cutting other people's ears. The people of the town tightly held their ears to block the screams. Most ran home in terror or grabbed each other for protection.
The shouts resonated tumultuous as the fire burned until suddenly the shouts ceased and only the blaze could be heard.
The fire department was called by someone who warned the forest guards. They couldn't do anything. The fire spread so quickly that the whole forest was burnt to the ground before a plan was drawn up. I admitted that I was the one starting the fire and was arrested by the police that night.
With little or no human contact, I was in prison for three days. The police were going through the office in an uncomfortable way as though they had more work than they could handle. They ignored and only fed me and checking on me before night.
John was there to welcome me when I woke up in my jail cell on the third morning.
I said groggily, "Good morning."
He opened the cell. “You’re free to go, Francis.” He nods at me to follow him. “Come with me." I got up and did as he requested. "They found Nap."  
"Is she all right? Is she hurt?" I asked delighted.
“She had some burns, cuts, bruises, suffered from some inhalation of smoke, and she seems to be in shock but is alive.”
“Thank God!” I shouted.
The car ride to the hospital was an hour or so. During our way over, John explained that I was now the least of the problems the town had to deal with. None of the town's houses got damaged. The wind blew the fire the opposite way. Search and rescue teams searched the forest at night and found Nap on the lake shore early in the morning. She was naked and shocked but alive.
The biggest problem the town had to tackle was the hundreds of skeletons discovered in the forest. They weren't scattered around like the victims of a forest fire. The burnt-out trunks of the narra trees contained dozens of skeletons, as if stuffed into the trees. John showed me a picture he'd taken at one of the scenes on his phone. The picture showed a tree trunk that looked bloated and had been burned out. Inside the bark you could clearly see a human skeleton contorted with the tree growing around it in horrible fashion. What appeared like wooden bark threads fused into the skeleton, as if they formed together. Some of the skeletons were identified as missing people in the woods in the 1900’s. Others had been estimated to be centuries old.
At the hospital, John dropped me off and I made my way to Nap’s room. Here were her parents. She was swollen and wounded but lying in her bed looking ahead, agape mouth, not blinking at all. She turned towards me slowly as I came in, not blinking. When our eyes met she started sobbing. I rushed to her, and warmly embraced her.
"They've took me," she said with heavy sobbing. "They ripped my clothes and tried to put me in there."
"Where?" I asked fighting off my own tears as I kept holding her closely.
"In the forest... In the trees," she said sobbing. "They feed the forest with us. The forest was dying and it starved to death.”
No other word was spoken. I just hugged her close, until she stopped sobbing.
With the forest gone, a development company bought all the land and turned it into homes. To my knowledge, no one has since disappeared. There are some rumors that the place is haunted and that odd voices and cries can still be heard at night.
The night of the fire, my camera was recording. I looked at the video once before deleting it. My voice can be heard in frightened tone calling Nap’s name. One can see Nap running into the woods calling for me. As she disappears beyond what the camera can see, there is a voice that giggles like a little child and then, in a raspy high voice, states, "We take." The brush all around is shifting quickly towards where Nap was last seen until her cries can be heard.
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FSC: 6-29-18
It's Friday once again, sea creature lovers! Sit back, relax and enjoy...
I'm excited to announce that this week we have a special guest, my good friend Dr. Amy, who has an actual PhD in Sea Creatures. I hear the University of Chicago doesn't just hand those things out so I think she must be pretty good at Sea Creatures. But I'll let her tell you herself:
"I have a Ph.D in Evolutionary Biology [Ed. Note: also known as Sea Creatures] from The University of Chicago. My research has focused on marine ecology and biodiversity. For my thesis, I studied the sand dollar Dendraster excentricus, which our Pacific coast dwellers are likely to be familiar with as something they might not have realized was ever alive. I’ve been studying marine invertebrates since 2010, when I took Invertebrate Zoology at Berkeley and suffered several weeks of nightmares about worms. My research on snails, sea slugs, crabs, mussels, and more have taken me throughout California, Washington state, and the Bahamas in search of colorful things with unfamiliar body plans."
I asked her to provide some tidbits about this week's sea creature. Which is, by the way:
The Bobbitt Worm (Eunice aphroditois)
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Bobbitt Facts:
Let's get this out of the way first: the Bobbitt worm is terrifying. (Seriously, don't watch that video in a dark room.)
My own research indicated that they could grow to be 6' long, but Dr. Amy informs me that in fact there are documented cases of Bobbitt worms growing to over twenty feet in length. Says Dr. Amy, "luckily, they’re still only an inch across, so they’d probably only take off like one finger or so." 
Where can you find these monstrosities? "Species of Bobbitt worms are     found worldwide, at least in Norway and Taiwan and North Carolina. So     avoid those places." Good advice, Dr. Amy!
Oh BTW they're venomous too. Their venom can cause permanent nerve damage. In humans.
The Bobbitt worm is named after Lorena Bobbitt, who is famous for cutting off her husband's junk (he deserved it TBH). Yet again we see that it really seems like sea creatures hate the patriarchy? Keep fighting the good fight, Bobbitt worms.
If fish keep disappearing from your aquarium, you might have a Bobbitt worm problem. At an aquarium in Cornwall, workers noticed that fish were disappearing and coral kept getting sliced in half(!) before eventually discovering a 4' worm in the tank. They named it Barry.
Why is it rainbow colored? "I actually have no idea," says Dr. Amy. Some things will forever remain a mystery to science. My hypothesis? Permanently celebrating pride month.
Any final thoughts, Dr. Amy?
"Bobbitt worms are probably like my 15th scariest worm or so, because parasites are the true nightmare fuel, and maybe my 10th favorite worm overall, because flatworms and sipunculids are awesome. Solid B+ worm."
There you have it, folks.
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draconesmundi · 5 years
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DRAGONS DRAGONS DRAGONS!!! How did you get inspired to write a guide to dragons?
It is so difficult to pinpoint ‘when’ I wanted to do this, because I have wanted this for such a very, very long time. I loved dragons when I was very little, I just had a magnetic attraction to dragon books and dragon toys.
I think the first “ooo non fiction books about dragons?” ideas came to me in 2003 when I was like, 6 years old, and read How To Train Your Dragon by Cressida Cowell. In that book there are pages detailing specifics of dragon species called “Viking Dragons and their Eggs” which would say the name of the dragon, a few facts about it, and some numbered ratings such as the ‘fear and fight factor’ so you could compare dragon species to eachother. In later editions this would become a card game.
I would think “wow, I wish there was a book like that-”
Christmas 2004 was my 8th birthday, where I received Dragonology: The Complete Book of Dragons, and Dragonology: Working With Dragons by Dugald Steer - the former of these books had been around in 2003 but I hadn’t encountered it before.
Dragonology was a huge favourite of mine, I loved so much about it. But I didn’t take it as the only true source of dragon facts, as obviously I knew different books had different dragons in them, but I knew if Viking Dragons and their Eggs had different dragons from Dragonology, surely each book on dragons would be different...
So in my 8-year-old mind there were dragons everywhere. River dragons, based on some ornaments I had seen in a shop in Alston, were brown like river rocks, so couldn’t be seen unless you looked super carefully. Library dragons, which were silver and reflective, couldn’t be seen because they reflected their surroundings too well. There were these super fast neon blue and red dragons (think neon tetras) which were long and noodle-like, who moved faster than the eye could see. I, a clever 8 year old, could obviously see them when they stood still enough. I had a statue of an eastern style dragon which I called ‘the eastern green hill brownie’ because... idk brownies were house spirits and the dragon lived in the house? but also out on the hills?
Anyway I wrote a book about the dragons I knew from my imagination when I was 8. I later wrote a revised edition when I was 11 and met a friend at school who was equally obsessed with dragons.
Then I stopped writing dragon books and did teenage things like homework. It was in high school when I became Cynical Of All Things where I picked up my childhood Dragonology book and scoffed. “This does a poor job of representing mythology” I said. “Feathered serpents didn’t have wings, amphithere is a heraldic term from Europe, did these fools just stick wings on a kangaroo and call it a dragon??”. I still collected Dragonology books, but Cynically and Ironically, because I was a teenager. I tried to write my own, it came from a place of bitterness, of I Am Right And Others Are Wrong. This phase lasted for less than a year, but was definitely a step in the writing-a-dragon-book process (a terrible step, but a step which means I know Not To Do That Again).
I then read a lot of mythology books; I never grew out of my childhood love of big scaly monsters, I just refined it. I educated myself on Dinosaurs, Pterosaurs, Psuedosuchians, I read so much about modern reptiles, about snakes and lizards - mostly lizards, I really, really wanted a bearded dragon - but none of these ‘real dragons’ fully filled my heart, so I also read about mythology. And fantasy books. Lots of fantasy books.
I picked up writing dragon books again when I was doing my A-Levels; these were Dragons of the British Isles, and this was the first stepping stone in the current project, because after a while of thinking “well the white dragon that fought the red dragon in Dinas Emrys in Wales was a Saxon dragon... which implies white dragons in mainland Europe...” and then I went back to writing Dragons of the World, or Dracones Mundi.
The current project started around 5 years ago, and it was inspired by several things; firstly, it was inspired by all the dragon books I had written as a youngster, (and you would need to go back in time and ask 6-year-old me what she was inspired by to get a full answer; she would probably shrug and say “because they were cool”), it is hugely inspired by Dugald Steer’s Dragonology, Holly Black and Toni DiTerlizzi’s Aurthur Spiderwick’s Field Guide to the World Around You, it is inspired for my love of awesome animals (which took me through an undergraduate in Zoology and my current master’s course in Paleontology), and my love for mythology (cannot get enough of it!), and it’s inspired mostly by the fact I feel people would enjoy this book.
I aim to bridge the gap between non-fiction books about dragons (such as Dr Karl Shuker’s Dragons: A Natural History, or mythology encyclopedias) and fantasy field guides about dragons (Dragonology, Dracopedia etc.), because when I was growing up I would have loved to have the factual retellings of myths alongside some awesome dragon biology ideas. It’s a book I always wanted to exist, and if I have the power to write it then I certainly will!
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The Not-Babysitter
Summary: Steph is volunteered to babysit Damian on his trip to the zoo, much to Damian's consternation. But an encounter with Steph's college classmates might force Damian to admit that things aren't so bad with her around.
I was prompted to write this by @jewishsuperfam AGES AGO and I finally had the right time and mood for it. Hope you guys enjoy! It's been a while since I've written Bat Fam fluff!
(Minor warnings for teen-mom and slut-shaming in this fic, just a heads up!)
Stephanie Brown mentally re-evaluates her life, her choices, and everything that’s led her to this spot.
When Cass had set the terms for their late-night roof tag game last night, Steph had agreed because usually Cass’s terms were things like “buy me a milkshake” or “help me break into a ballet studio so I can leave flowers for the cute Prima Donna.”
But last night?
Cass had, after thoroughly trouncing Steph as usual, asked Steph to “not-babysit” Damian’s trip to the zoo.  
“He’s almost eleven,” Steph had said, squinting at Cass. “Why does he need a babysitter?”
“Because last time he went to the zoo... the tiger pavilion is now named “Wayne Pavilion.”
Steph wasn’t sure if Bruce had been forced to pay an inordinate amount of money to cover up for Damian’s antics, or if Damian had managed to fund it using his ludicrously large allowance, but either way, she could see the point.
Which is how she’s ended up here, in her civilian clothes, escorting Damian Wayne, who had to be talked into normal kids clothes, around the zoo.
He squints at her, suspiciously. “I don’t need a babysitter,” he reminds her, for approximately the fifteenth time since she showed up at Wayne Manor to pick him up.
“I know,” Steph says cheerfully. “Ooh, look, seals!”
Damian is actually kind of cute in a zoo setting, Steph realizes. It makes sense, given his love for animals. He’s memorized all the signs and the speeches by the zookeepers, and also all the feeding times so he keeps them on a tight schedule, making sure that they don’t miss a single one.
He tries to give her the slip at the Meerkats while Steph takes a selfie, so she retaliates by forcing him to take selfies with her, and immediately sends them to the group chat she has with Harper and Cass, and the one she has with Tim and Cass, and the one she has with Babs and Wendy and Cass, and the one she has with Duke and Jason, and then she texts it to Bruce, Dick, Alfred, and Kara for good measure.
He tries to steal her phone to delete the evidence after that, but Steph has not spent the past year hanging out with Babs and Wendy for nothing, and has already uploaded it onto the Cloud, safely out of his reach and safely on her laptop.
To make it up to him, she buys him a popsicle shaped like a lion, which he’s been trying really hard to pretend he doesn’t want. She also buys him a hat with an elephant on it, and convinces him to buy a stuffed one as a present to Dick.
Honestly, this is pretty fun.
Steph had never been able to go to the zoo as a kid, except once when she was six and her dad had just scored big. He’d taken her and then ditched her by the giraffes while he and his buddies had gone to case the bank nearby.
It wasn’t the worst of his “take the kid on an outing so I have an alibi” plans, but it was still a pretty shitty one, in Steph’s opinion.
She triple checks where Damian is when they get to the giraffes, just in case, and listens as he explains giraffe vertebrae in detail.
“You ever thought about studying this stuff when you go to college?” She asks him as they start to wander out of the Africa section towards the India section, where the infamous Wayne Tiger Pavilion is.
Damian looks surprised. “I am supposed to study business in order to take over my father’s empire,” he reminds her.
“What, are you saying you’re not smart enough for a double major?” Steph says. Damian immediately bristles, and Steph keeps going. “I suppose you’re right. Zoology is a hard major...”
“How dare you!” Damian shrieks, and Steph laughs, throwing an arm around his shoulders.
“Hey, if I can double, you can,” she says.
He pauses. “I thought you were pre-medicine?”
“Biology and music,” Steph corrects lightly. “Pre-med’s a concentration. Music makes me more interesting to med school.” And she loves it, but that’s step two in this conversation.  
Damian goes quiet. “I wasn’t aware you were cultured enough to play an instrument, Brown,” he says stiffly.
“Piano,” she says, surprised. “I guess I haven’t played in the Manor since--” since she was Robin. Whoops. “For a while,” she says, doing her best to recover. “You do violin, right? Cass says you’re really good.”
Damian looks pleased that Cass complimented something he did. The puppy hero-worship is absolutely adorable, and Steph is practically obligated to buy him a balloon of a tiger’s head wearing a Batman cowl after that.
It’s always great when she can get Damian to act like a normal kid, instead of the crabby, snobby, sometimes-violent angsty teen he likes to pretend he is.
She also immediately takes a picture of him staring up at the balloon in barely masked delight and uploads it to the Birds of Prey locked Facebook group Dinah invited her to join last month.
After viewing the tigers and listening to Damian rant about several now-extinct sub-species of tiger for half an hour, Steph drags him to the cafe near there and orders him an environmentally friendly fair trade ice cream with extra whipped cream and sprinkles, and herself one too, because they’re having a day off, and she can’t be fucked to keep track of her calorie count, no matter how much Babs has been pushing her onto the new work-out routine that’s supposed to give her better abs than Helena.
Also, it’s really hot outside, and they haven’t turned on those thoughtful looking misters that Steph remembered running through as a kid and getting absolutely, delightfully soaked.
Damian is interrogating Steph about the advantages of remaining in Gotham for college versus attending his dad’s alma mater (which Steph thinks is either Yale or Princeton, but can’t remember which), when their delightful afternoon becomes less so.
“Hey, is that Brown?” She hears someone say behind her, and Damian stiffens up.
Steph glances out of the corner of her eye, and spots a group of kids from her Chem class. Frowning, she ducks her head lower, because she’s with Damian, and she’s not exactly supposed to advertise her friendship with the Wayne Family, even in the age of Batman Inc.
“It is!”
“Hey, that’s a kid with her!”
“Oh my god!”
“He’s old!”
“Um, what? He’s like, nine.”
“Yeah,” the voice has gotten conspiratorial. “But she’d have to have been, what? Thirteen when she had him?”
“Wait, he’s hers?” Someone who hasn’t spoken yet gasps, and Steph breaks the recyclable plastic spoon in her hand.
“Haven’t you heard? She was a teen mom,” someone else sniggers. “Mom was a druggie, dad was a crook, and she was a--”
Steph is this close to throwing her ice cream in fucking Cynthia’s face--she recognizes that voice now--when Damian acts first.
By which she means, he disappears from right in front of her, reminding her, once again, that Damian Wayne was trained by literal ninjas since birth.
By the time she gets to her feet and gets ready to start yelling for him, Cynthia lets out a shriek, and she pivots on the spot.
She sees Damian Wayne perching on top of one of the sprinklers with a furious expression and a screwdriver, but no one else does, too busy staring at the screeching college students, who have just been soaked with, instead of a delightful mist of cool, refreshing water, a torrent of ice cold water, enough to make mascara run, ruin hair, and soak through shirts.
Steph claps a hand over her mouth and tries hard not to laugh as she watches Damian vanish into the nearby tree, and reappear across from her as if nothing happened.
“You should go to a school with higher standards,” he mutters, stabbing his ice cream with his spoon.
Steph grins. “But then I’d be too far away for you to insult,” she reminds him.
He pauses, considering this. “I suppose you better stay,” he finally concedes. “But you should apply for more advanced classes, so you don’t have to see those imbeciles again.”
Steph smiles and eats her ice cream before dragging Damian off to visit the petting zoo.
Damian only complains three times, and doesn’t try to escape her once.
He even agrees to take a single selfie.
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