#as I have just learned that the fear of tornadoes is called

[takaraphoenix]

I have acquired the utterly horrifying knowledge that there are tornadoes in Germany.

Just. Tornadoes. In Germany. Apparently like 40 a year on average?

I did not know this. I wish I could have continued living without knowing this.

Apparently, so far, said tornadoes in Germany were happening in parts of Germany that are not here so I've just... never... heard about them? Somehow? Entirely unsure how, like, genuinely unsure how I have never, in the 30 years of my life on this Earth and in this country, heard a single news about a tornado in Germany if there are that many on average, I have remained blissfully unaware of this.

Today, when I checked my mails, there was weather news on the website about storms all over Germany, including tornado warnings. This is how I learned about this.

I don't like this. I don't know how I can unlearn this. And I feel like I need to unlearn this fact.

I am terrified of tornadoes. I've never experienced one in my life, I can't explain where this fear came from beyond like American TV shows and movies.

When I have nightmares, they feature tornadoes. That's my number one most recurring nightmare.

When I hear about tornadoes in the state that someone I care about lives in in the US, I get very anxious (...much more anxious than the person living there. How are Americans so calm about this shit).

I am currently not okay with the knowledge that tornadoes happen in the country I live in, even though I have the rational knowledge that they have still never happened anywhere near where I live, just... knowing they happen in Germany, after I spent my life living in a matra of "this scary thing that haunts me in my nightmares isn't real here", is... not good.

Not doing great with this new knowledge. Really not doing great with this.

[garbinge]

Cowboy and Pony

Tyler Owens x F!Reader

Summary: Tyler comes home with the crew after a chase and after a unpleasant run in with your ex. Word Count 4.5k Warnings: Light angst, mentions of parental death, really bad science and tech explanations for the sake of plot lol, anxiety, talk of trauma/guilt/grief, fear of leaving home, kissing and i guess PG-13 sexual situations (not really but like blink and you miss it type stuff). A/N: I saw Twisters last night and cannot get Tyler Owens out of my brain. Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989

You knew Tyler practically your whole life. He was the boy next door, but that quickly turned into your friend next door. Throughout all of his crazy life adventures, bull riding, studying meteorology, chasing storms, you were there. Except while he was trying out a million things, you were doing one. Tinkering with shit. Some people probably would have called you a mechanic, but you hated it. Because you didn’t just stop at cars, you were the person that would dig through the garbage to find trashed parts and build a computer out of it. That’s actually when Tyler talked to you for the first time, he stood back watching you pick through his trash just to get a circuit board from an old computer. You just liked to build stuff, you learned how to solder, how to rewire shit, the whole nine yards. 

Tyler wasn’t just your neighbor growing up, he was a friend. One of the best of ‘em. It’s why when he switched up to tornado chaser and asked you to join his crew there was no hesitation in your decision. You also managed to find a boyfriend, two of them actually, a jerk off one, that only lasted a few months and then the one you currently had, who was in front of your face this entire time. 

You were nose deep into some project as you heard the bark from Pony, the rescued Great Dane who you spent most of your days with. It was a miracle you didn’t hear the loud speakers of the truck you knew pulled into the driveway, but then you realized they had probably been broken off or mangled to the point of repair. 

“He-hey Pony, who's a good girl.” His voice was muffled, he had to have been a few feet out from the barn, which meant he was keeping the truck a good distance away from you on purpose. 

Sliding the barn doors open, your eyes first fell on him. Your number one concern always being him. But when you saw that damn handsome smug face on him, looking up at you with the most apologetic smile as Pony licked his face, your eyes jumped to the truck. They were jumping just as soon as they were closing shut. 

The exoskeleton of welded steel had been crushed on one side, which honestly was the least of your problems. The weather station atop had been missing complete pieces versus just a couple dings and scratches. The roof rack lights were broken and the trailer hitch was bent in an unusable position. But the firework launcher was in perfect condition still, of course. 

“I fixed what I could on site.” You heard the statement through gritted teeth as Tyler stared at you knowingly. 

“Oh. There was more.” You opened your eyes and saw him with an expression that could only be described as yikes as he nodded and stood up, Pony attaching to his side instantly. 

“Yeaaaaa.” He was still gritting his teeth as he walked towards you with open arms, knowing he was going to work his way back into your graces. His arms were around you in seconds, and his lips on yours moments later. Reaching to the top of your head, you removed the soldering headband that was resting on the top of your head like a simple pair of sunglasses although was 5x the size. Tyler instinctively grabbed it from you, and moved his hand right back to your lower back while you let your hands cup his face. “I’m sorry.” It was whispered as he pulled from the kiss to rest his forehead on yours. 

You looked up at him and noticed the smallest scratch on his face and wiped your thumb along it in hopes that it was just dirt but when the mark stayed and you felt the rigidness from the skin starting to heal already, you knew it wasn’t. “You know all that shit I build for you is so this doesn’t happen, right?” 

He let out a laugh, and you felt his body vibrate against yours as he did. “It’s barely the size of a papercut, and I, uh, recall you using your wiring tools to stitch up my head one from bull riding so I’d say it’s not too comparable.” His hands were now reaching up to your face to place a swift kiss on your forehead in an attempt to ease you. 

“I don’t compare, I just find a way to make things better. So now you need to tell me what happened to make this happen.” Your hands had moved against his chest. 

“One of Storm Par’s guys didn’t tie down their gear right and it nicked Tyler.” Lilly was walking right by you both into the barn to drop her drone for its own repairs. 

That made your entire mood change. “I’m sorry, what?” Your head jumping from Lilly to Tyler who was smiling with his mouth open readying an excuse.

“It was one of the new guys, didn’t know his ass from the tornado.” This was him trying to simmer the situation with humor.  

“Yea and when you told him that, that David guy got all up in our pretty boy’s face!” Boone was also entering the barn, following shortly behind Lilly with the drone eyes and controller. 

“I’m sorry, what?” That’s when your body got more tense and Tyler did everything to try and shake it off you. 

David. The jerk off ex-boyfriend. 

“Which ones David?” Dani was calling out from the RV, her hat crooked as she hung from the passenger door handle. It was obvious she was probably busy when the situation occurred. 

“The jerk-off one!” You and Tyler both called out at the same time. It earned him a smile, you could always count on being in sync with him. Surrendering from your tension you raised your arms up again to his neck, just below his jawline. 

“What’d he do?” 

“Ah, you know, storm up in my face.” The irony of his statement wasn’t lost on you, it’s why you rolled your eyes which made him explain further. “You know, just said some stupid shit, Boone’s probably got it on video, probably really drive up our views.” 

You didn’t give a fuck about views or watching the footage right now, you wanted to hear it from him what happened. And he read that off you immediately. “He just got mad. I mouthed off to someone in his crew, he said some shit to me and I just brushed him off.” 

Looking over to Lilly and Boone, you were looking at them for the real answer. “I didn’t realize we were calling, pushing the guy to the ground, brushing him off.” Lilly was smirking as she was looking around at the pieces of the drone that were needing repairs. 

“Let me see the video.” You were pushing off Tyler, who was leaning in trying to get you back in his embrace until he dropped his head in defeat. 

Boone was eager to show you the footage he caught, ditching the drone and coming to your workstation to set up his camera for you to watch. 

“Watch your mouth, Tornado Wrangler. One of my guys is worth all of yours combined.” A typical thing to come from David’s mouth. The MIT degree he held must’ve come with a minor in selfish pretentious douchebag. 

You saw how Tyler’s tongue swiped against his bottom lip inside his mouth as he looked out past David, considering he had a few inches of height on him. “See that’s the difference between me and you, Storm Par, we value things a little differently.” 

It was immediately apparent that Tyler was referring to you. Yes, he valued his team way more than David his, but Tyler knew what he was doing when he said it. David put a lot of things before you when you were dating, and the straw that broke the camel's back was when he didn’t show up to the hospital when you found out your mother was sick. This was before Storm Par and Tornado Wranglers though, this was when David was just working tracking storms in the area for his college internship and Tyler was just starting to get over taming bulls and more into taming twisters. 

When David joined Storm Par, you were already with Tyler for about a year, so it was much to his surprise when he saw you at one of the many motels on the storm trail in Oklahoma not only on top of the red dodge RAM truck fixing something, but also on top of Tyler at the little bonfire gathering in the field adjacent to the motel later that same night. 

But it wouldn’t have mattered if you were together with Tyler or not. The two never got along, when he first met David from when they both started chasing the same storms, there was always something in the air. 

“Yea, we do. Extremely difficult and exhausting emotional baggage weren’t high on my must-haves when I was looking for a girlfriend.” It was the exact words he used when you broke up with him. Correct, you broke up with him, and he hit you with the yea this isn’t working, you’re extremely difficult and the emotional baggage is beginning to exhaust me line. The extremely difficult line was probably in reference to not wanting to build machines for him to use to track the weather, modeling equipment, etc. And the exhausting emotional baggage was the whole your mother being sick thing. He clearly was still using the statement which meant he thought it was effective. And it was. At getting pushed to the ground. 

After the words left his mouth, Tyler’s hands were on David’s collar bones and shoving him with such little effort but enough to get him to stumble to the ground. Tyler smirked, a fully sarcastic look as he shrugged his shoulders and lifted his hands. Very that’s what you get of him. “Told you not to talk about her, Storm Par.” 

“You told me not to say her name.” David was annoyingly dusting off his shirt, knowing that physically he couldn’t take Tyler even on his best day. The secret was, you knew he couldn’t outsmart him even on his worst day either. 

“Hm.” Tyler was taking a couple steps closer now, really towering over him now, blocking any sun from David's vision as he stood tall looking down at him. “Well let’s just add it to the list, huh?” Just as Tyler was about to step away, the smirk on his face went from sarcastic to a full blown smile as he grabbed the ‘not my first tornadeo’ t-shirt that was on Boone’s shoulder and tossed it down to him. “Here, something to change into, you got a little dirt.” He pointed to his own torso when he said it.

That’s when the camera flipped to Boone raising his eyebrows, “you mess with the bull you get the horns!” His fingers raised to his forehead where his pointer and pinky finger were extended in the rocker sign and his teeth gritted to imitate a bull. 

“Classy.” You looked up to see Tyler still in the same spot, at the entrance of the barn leaning against the door frame, arms crossed. “Maybe next time we can get you both knight costumes and we can make it a true fight for my honor.” 

Despite your satire, he knew you weren’t mad. “Next time, huh? That mean you comin’ on the next chase with us?” 

That was the question. It was so much the question, that everyone was looking at you now. Lilly, Boone, Dani, and Dexter. After your mother got really sick, it was hard for you to leave the house, when you needed time for yourself, you’d come to the garage barn and work, that way when she needed you you weren’t too far. When she passed, you were away, on a chase which held enough guilt to basically move you into your barn. The house was merely a place for you to eat, sleep, and shower. And have sex with Tyler, although the barn had seen its fair share of that as well. Now, you had explained it as a habit–preference even, you preferred staying home, it was habitual. But everyone really knew… it was that emotional baggage. 

Even though he was mentioning it now, you knew there was never any pressure to go. You used to go. But ever since you got that call from the nurse’s aid that your mother had passed in her sleep while you were 75 miles away, it was hard to pull yourself from here. 

“Let me bring the truck in here.” Avoidance.

The keys were being dangled from Tyler’s fingers before you could say another word. As you jumped into the driver’s seat of the truck, you looked down to see a note on the odometer with your name on it. 

She got a little more mangled than expected. But can’t wait to tell you about the chase. Give you a little sneak preview, twins, changing wind shear and a surprise. Did what I could on site to fix the ol girl but no one’s as brilliant as you, especially with the vehicle sonar. You probably didn’t notice the vehicle sonar was broken. I’m sorry, did I say that? I don’t think I said that. I love you, I’ll say that too, in hopes that it’s enough for you to forgive the state of the truck, and if not, I brought back barbecue to win your love back. 

T 

These were your favorite; they made you feel included, like you were there. And Tyler knew that. Tucking the note into your jacket pocket, you pulled into the garage barn and got to work. About an hour in was when you were interrupted by the smell of barbecue and Tyler attached to the plate. 

“Winning back my love?” You called out with a smile, your legs extended out on the roof of the truck as you installed the new-old weather station to it. 

He placed the plate next to you, barely needing to reach up to get it that high and jumped into the bed of the truck. “And if not yours then Pony’s.” He was picking a piece of chicken off the plate and tossing it to the Great Dane who was nestled in the corner of the truck bed. “You get my note?” He was standing in the bed now, leaning against the back of the truck cap, his arms crossed on the roof as he watched you work. 

“Of course I did. You gonna tell me about,” You pulled the wrench away and looked in his direction while trying to remember the keywords he gave you from the chase. “Twins, and the shifting shear.” 

“Don’t forget the surprise.” He was picking up the fork from the plate and waving it as he spoke. “Yea, so we caught twins, although they didn’t look like twins, one was thin, small radius, the other was growing, kickin’ up a lot of dirt.” 

“Which one did you follow?” Despite not being much into meteorology, Tyler talked enough about it for you to learn a lot, and even though you hadn’t been on a chase in while, you knew the ins and outs pretty well still. 

“The wrong one.” Now he was pushing the fork in your direction, knowing you wouldn’t stop what you were doing long enough to relax and eat. 

“The shifting shear.” You mhmed in acknowledgement to the word in his letter about the wind change and also as the taste of your favorite Oklahoma barbeque spot filled your taste buds. 

“Yep.” He nodded, “We lost it and Storm Par didn’t.” 

“Before or after your run in with David.” 

“Before.” 

“Then, Tyler Owens, I think you still came out on top.” You said it while still looking at the plate, about to grab more food but the interruption of Tyler’s arms pushing him up on the truck roof, his boot stepping up on the fixed exoskeleton to boost him up so he was on top of you. 

“You’re damn right.” He was leaning his face dangerously close, as if his body atop of yours wasn’t dangerous enough. The slightest touch of his lips met yours and any thought of barbecue and fixing weather stations was out of your brain, in fact any thoughts at all were gone from your head aside from the many thoughts of Tyler caressing you.  “I missed you.” That was until he said that. 

He meant well, and you missed him too, but it just reminded you of not being there. Tyler picked up on your change in mood immediately, his left arm pressed against the metal of the car so he wasn’t as on top of you anymore, his face twisted in concern as his eyebrows raised in a way to ask you what happened but as you thought about how you wanted to explain he got it without you needing to share a word. “Fuck.” Dropping his head and the confused concern, his head fell on your shoulder. “I didn’t mean it that way. Even earlier today, I just–” 

“Miss me. I get it.” Your hand fell on his head, your fingers getting tangled in his blonde locks, your mouth moving to pepper kisses on his head as well. “I missed you too, for the record.” You mumbled it against his head. 

He moved off you and fell next to you, his hand cupping your head as he placed a kiss to your forehead as he moved. “There’s never any pressure. At your own pace.” 

“Says the guy who faces his fears by riding them. If I was anyone else, you’d laugh and scream cowboy obscenities as you walked away from me.” 

That caused Tyler to laugh out loud, his body vibrating against yours as his laughs fell in the crook of your neck. “You’re not scared.” 

“I’m scarred.” Making jokes was the only way you felt comfortable really talking about it. 

“And for the record, you’re you, not anyone else, so yes I treat you differently.” He left a kiss in the crook of your neck as he left it. “And what are cowboy obscenities?” 

You cleared your throat and began hollering typical midwestern slang and finished it off with the Tyler Owens tagline. “Woooohooo, if you feel it chase it!” 

There was his laugh again, buzzing against your body, making you miss him even when he was right damn next to you. 

Things quieted down for a bit and the two of you sat up and finished off the plate of barbeque on the picnic table you turned the roof of the red dodge into. “So, I was thinkin’ you know how you have the buttons in the truck to release the rockets and drill in and all that.” You spoke like you weren’t the one that helped him install all of those gadgets. 

“Mhm.” He smiled thinking the same thing, his arm propped up on his folded leg. 

“Well, Storm Par they have those data trackers, the things they gotta get out of the car and place down around the vortex.” You explained. 

“Think it’s the PAR in Storm Par.” Tyler teased.

“Exactly, Phased Array Radar. And I know we have the drone, which is great but what if we could have both? Footage and data.” Before Tyler could answer you were jumping back down to your work station and moving some things around to pull out a mechanism you had been working on before the group arrived back. 

Tyler was following behind you, not as quickly paced but still intrigued. “Okay so this we could install in your truck and attach it to this.” You were now showing a large panel that had hydraulics on it. “And basically, you press this and the truck bed flap will open and this will move out, dropping whatever you want out, you guys won't have to leave the car.” 

Tyler nodded as he took it all in, impressed, as always. “Pretty sure the handsome fellas at Storm Par use 3 of those bad boy radars though. Don’t think we could get the RV that close to a twister.” 

“I’d build you a data catcher where you’d only need one.” Already having the answer to his question you folded your arms and smirked. You had the mechanism to release it pretty much done, now you just had to build the radar, no biggie. 

“How?” He copied your pose, arms crossed, leaning more on one leg than the other, although his eyebrows were frowned while yours were raised. 

“Because you just have to drop it in the vortex.” Now his eyebrows raised and before he could ask his one more follow up question, you were answering it for him. “And I’m planning on building one that shifts its panel, so even when the twister passes, you can still track it for up to 5 miles. Dorothy reimagined.” You were referring to the hundreds of sensors people would generally have zipped up into a tornado to radio back data. 

“We’d have information on the twister way quicker.” Tyler’s brain was starting to wrap around this idea. 

“It’s not perfect, it’s not going to change much but–”

“It’s a way to get more information faster, that’s pretty big.” He stopped you from doubting the idea. “And keeps us from needing to race against the twister outside the truck. 

“I’m nothing if not concerned for your safety.” You pointed at him with the large switch in your hand while he walked over to start helping you piece some more things together. The two of you fell into a silent groove, working on the idea you had just shared with him, rewiring things and going over different equations to best prepare the data capture radar. As time passed, Tyler looked over at you from across the workstation and spoke up. 

“You know, I get why you can’t come out. I know prolly better than anyone how much your mom meant to you, what seeing her get sick did to you.” 

Shifting your focus from the lamp lit table covered in wires in front of you, you looked up at him. His eyes were staring at you, softly, it was something he seemed to want to share for a while and was just waiting for the right moment. And he was right, Tyler did know. It was the perk of growing up with him as your neighbor, he just knew things because he was there. Not only did he know, but he experienced them with you. He’d come by for dinner, bring you any piece of tech or electronics him or his aunt didn’t use anymore. When you popped your bicycle tire riding home from school, he picked you up in his aunt’s truck even though he didn’t have a license. On those weekend trips you’d so often take with your mom, he’d come by and check in on the barn, on your family pets. When she was sick and 90% of your time was spent making sure she was okay, he was making sure you were okay. And when your mom passed, he was the one who drove you the 75 miles back home in the same red pickup truck when one of the most historical twisters touched down. 

It was memories and thoughts like those that always made you wonder what took you so long to realize you were in love with Tyler Owens. He’d love to tell everyone now that he knew from the moment he saw you picking through trash that he loved you. That when you were rushing down the high school hallway with some contraption you made explaining to him that you made it to help him with the focusing issue he had casually brought up to you was when he realized he could never lose you. This person who knew neither of them had the money for noise cancellation headphones and just decided to make them herself with a playlist of his favorite songs in one night to help him focus? You cared about him. And he could never lose that. Which is why he could never tell you that he was in love with you. He watched you date losers, even went on his own dates too sometimes to see if he could get over the feeling. The only thing comparable was bull riding. Or storm chasing. And with that came you, because as much as you didn’t realize you loved Tyler, you knew you loved being around him. 

“We can start slow if you want to get out, maybe we can go away for the weekend, go to that town you and your mom used to drive out to in Texas, Sun Valley, right?” 

It was honestly the perfect idea. Getting out and doing something that reminded you of your mom. “Yea that’s a good idea.” 

He sensed the hesitancy in your voice though and changed the topic quickly. “Never asked me what the surprise was.” 

“What’s the surprise?” It was spoken in a mockery tone, you knew he’d get around to telling you. 

“Be right back.” He was eagerly standing up from the table and lightly jogging down the driveway into the RV where Dani and Dexter were probably working on making sense of the data they had already captured. 

As Tyler came back into the barn, Pony whined and tilted his head as the scent of what Tyler was carrying entered the barn. He had a young dog in his hands, although the dog was big enough to likely not be a puppy but you could tell from his face, he still had a few more young months ahead. It was a real dog and pony show, literally. 

“Found him in the aftermath rubble, pretty sure his owners didn’t make it because no one claimed him.” The heaviness of his statement hit you as you stepped out and made your way towards both Tyler and the dog.  “Didn’t have a nametag on ‘em.”  

“Cowboy.” You grabbed the dog from Tyler’s hands, giving him his name, and scratched him behind his ears before putting him down on the ground to meet Pony. 

As you looked at both dogs, now curiously sniffing and playing together in your workshop barn, Tyler tossed his arm around your shoulders and kissed your head. “Pony and Cowboy.” He nodded. 

“You bring him home because you don’t think Pony has it in her to protect me all by herself?” 

“Somethin’ like that.” He smirked. “Plus now, you got an excuse to stay home more. You got a puppy to raise.”

[artist-issues]

I like that when Tyler goes to help the guy getting left behind during the night tornado, Kate tries to come with, and he waves her back and says, “no, go back!” and she actually does. It’s such a tiny moment. But she listens, and stays where it’s relatively safe, while the man does the more dangerous thing.

They didn’t have to do that. They had already checked the “Tyler is a nice guy who helps people during a crisis” box. Twice. They could’ve had Kate crawl out there and be the hero (actually they couldn’t, because that moment is supposed to come during the climax, but they could’ve at least had her insist on being able to do as much as the man can.)

I mean, they had every excuse to strong-female-character it and make her be like “no I’m helping!” Or have him make the wrong call during the rescue, and she pops in and saves the situation with the right call. Or they could’ve forcefully sidelined her—shown that she wanted to help and would have, but some debris or something blocked her from helping. Or they could’ve had her just plain argue with him more, show that in that quick moment she doesn’t think the YouTube hotshot, big-strong-man can do it without her help, something like that. But no.

Instead, by having him tell her what to do, they give her the opportunity to trust him. Trust that he knows what he’s doing, trust that he should be the one to double back into danger, trust that his insistence that she go back is what’s best.

The filmmakers do this great back-and-forth, share-the-load synergy between Tyler and Kate from the moment the tornado hits. They go, “she led them to the pool, now he’s going to help this guy get to safety—she’s going to grab his hand and pull him to the pipes, now he’s going to shield her.” They take turns in the hero-role. They team up. Even in a crazy crisis they’re two equals who respect each other. The movie could’ve made Kate disproportionately smarter or more courageous than her male co-Star character. Instead, she’s markedly not, and learns something from him about riding your fears.

And in the meantime, he steps right out of the way to let her get the glory with the news story. Even though he’s the dude with his face on a T-shirt, YouTube famous. So it’s not like she’s introducing nothing to his character arc, to improve him. They’re equals, not overcompensating for perceived inequalities like all the other characters our culture loves.

And this is just the weather thriller movie?

It’s the winds of plain-good storytelling. Without letting garbage progressive-culture ideas screw up the characterizations.

[rosyhoneydew]

I'll Cover You

Written for @bucktommypositivityweek | Week 2, Day 2: Scenes from a firetruck | cw for mentions of dissociation, flashbacks

I wrote two entries for today! If mildly steamy fluff is more your vibe it's here -> Stolen Moment

The winds are strong, even days after the tornado’s long gone.

Buck hadn’t seen anything like it before. Tornadoes, sure, but the kind of large-scale damage that came from an invasive cloud of bees droning en masse and descending on the city like a plague? A first. He’s nursing a sting or two himself for a few days.

It’s almost a relief to get called on scene two days later. Almost. Because while plane crashes are, at least, familiar, they’re still grueling.

All things considered, it’s not as bad as it could’ve been. The 737 went down on land this time, but it had only barely made it off the ground before taking a nosedive back onto the tarmac. The passengers were buckled in and the drop itself wasn’t too big. So yeah, they got pretty lucky.

They’re still on the scene now. Hen and Eddie are working at the cockpit last he knew, Chim’s somewhere in the med bay here with him, working on a bigger trauma. Buck’s been handling some of the lower grade injuries and he’s cool, really. Yeah it would be nice to be out there, doing the big boy stuff, but they’ve got a new captain and he’s learning to pick his battles.

He’s just finishing wrapping up a kid’s ankle. He can’t be more than 7 but he’s been so brave, holding his little sister’s hand to keep her from crying. He’s got the elastic bandage just in place when the wind rips the kid’s jacket from where it was draped on his shoulders and under the 217’s truck.

“I gotcha!” he reassures the kid quick. “One sec, you stay right here for me, okay?”

Buck shuffles over to the truck in a walk-run and bends down low to peek underneath. It would probably be easier to grab the jacket from the other side, but he’s already here so he just finishes ducking down, crawls under and reaches out for the corner of the fabric.

He’s still under the truck when the next big wind hits. It leaves the truck shaking and groaning around him. Buck freezes. It feels like all logical thought in his brain shuts off.

The truck isn’t going to tip over. He’s not stuck. If he had the presence of mind he could wiggle his toes, even. But there’s something about being under here, hearing the voices around him, it has him tense all over. He can’t move.

When he looks back on it, he’ll wonder why it set him off. It’s not nighttime, there are no kids with bombs strapped to them, it’s not like he was even under the truck when it tipped last time. It’s a fluke, almost. But it can’t be helped. He’s petrified.

—

Tommy honestly thought his first call working with the 118’s A-shift would have had a little more novelty, but it’s just been long. He’s happy to see Evan, of course, but he hardly sees him. He’s been over in the med bay for the last couple of hours that Tommy’s been teamed up with Viera, pulling passengers out of the wreck.

He had at least been able to drop off an older woman directly to Evan about an hour ago.

Well, Patricia, it looks like your day is looking up! You’re in good hands with this one. He’ll patch you up real good.

Ahh, my job’s the easy part. You’re just lucky firefighter pilot Kinard was here to save you.

She’d only had a sprained wrist, but Tommy had watched them from afar for a minute, ever impressed with the way Evan kept her calm, reassurances and jokes taking the fear out of her eyes. He has to turn back before long, but he lets that moment carry him through the next push. He’s going home to that man.

He’s jogging back to check in at base when he hears crying to his right. There’s a kid standing still, holding the hand of a little girl and he’s wailing at the sky. That doesn’t seem right. Tommy’s eyes track around the area and he spots boots sticking out of the side of their truck. Definitely not right. He changes course, picking up his speed as he approaches the kids.

“Hey, bud, you okay?” He’s got his hands on the boy’s shoulders, grounding him, hopefully. “You hurting anywhere?”

The kid coughs out a few more sobs in Tommy’s face, but he shakes his head. He looks like he’s willing himself not to be scared. Jesus, kids are resilient.

“Alright, that’s good, I’m going to check on my friend here, you gonna be okay for a minute?” A nod. Good.

Tommy turns his attention to the truck behind him, lays flat, knocking his helmet off in the process. The guy’s not moving, but Tommy’s not able to figure out at a glance what happened here. There’s no gas leak, no threat to public safety over here.

“You good, man?” he calls out.

The body of the guy twitches. Not dead. That’s good. He clears his throat.

“Can you feel your feet? I can try to move you but I need to know if you’ve got any injuries I should watch out for.”

No response. Okay. Time to change tack.

Tommy rights himself and walks to the other side of the truck, resuming position on the asphalt. He shuffles in a little closer and finally gets a look at the guy’s face.

Evan. It’s Evan.

“Evan?” he says. He’s not sure it comes out as much more than a breath.

Evan’s eyes do flick to his then, but there’s still something distant in his gaze. He’s dissociated. It comes to mind then, the stories told at happy hours and trivia nights, and the ones told only in the sanctuary that is their bedroom. They're good stories, but Tommy knows better than most the toll that kind of shit can take on a person. Evan's having a flashback.

“Alright, alright, baby,” Tommy says under his breath. He’s not sure Evan would hear him even if he spoke up. He looks pretty gone.

Tommy scoots half a foot closer, puts both palms flat to the ground.

“Evan,” he starts, “can you do this with your hands? Just like mine.” He flexes his hands a bit to demonstrate.

Evan’s own hands are balled up. It looks like he army crawled under here. His arms are bent at his sides, curled in tight half under his body. He blinks a few times.

“Your hands, Evan.” Tommy picks his own up and places them back down again. “Just like this.”

Evan mirrors the movements.

“Good job, that’s perfect.”

“Kinard?” He hears from behind him.

“We’re good here, Sloane.” Who knows if she’ll believe him; she’s a damn good secondary when they’re in the air but she’s nosy as all get-out.

He hears the sound of her turnouts rustling as she shifts around, deciding whether to stay or go.

“Sloane. I got this. Can you round back to the kids on the other side? I’m going to be here a minute.”

He hears the sound of boots squeaking behind him as she does what he asks. Okay, Ev, just you and me.

Evan’s fingertips are curling, his eyes pinched closed.

“Ev, sweetheart, look at me.” He does. “I’m gonna grab your arm okay? Then we can work on getting you over here. Sound good?”

There’s no response, but that’s okay. Tommy’s going real slow. He reaches out and places a sure hand on Evan’s arm.

“Can you push yourself toward me?”

His eyes close again and for a second Tommy falters, mentally jumping two steps back to figure out a different path forward. But then Evan pushes. He digs the meat of his hand into the ground and uses the leverage to slide his body toward Tommy.

“Just like that. Exactly like that.”

He’s close enough now that Tommy can reach his shoulder. He gets a good grip and rolls Evan the rest of the way, pulling him up to sitting once he’s on his back and out from under the belly of the truck. He watches as Evan scrambles to pull his feet out.

Tommy’s got him sat in between the V of his legs, one arm around his waist, and brings the other up to Evan’s face, pushing the damp hair off his forehead. They’re tucked in between trucks, so the sound of commotion from the continued efforts of the other houses is muffled. The loudest thing he can hear is their panting, both going a little boneless with relief.

Tommy places a kiss to Evan’s temple. He’s sweaty there too. He feels Evan’s breathing slow down a bit, but he’s reluctant to break the quiet. He’s not sure that Evan’s flashbacks are like his, everyone’s a little different, but he sometimes needs the silence after. Just to collect himself. So he gives that to Evan, too.

“Did- did you get it?” Evan finally says, startling Tommy just a bit.

“Get it?”

“The jacket.” He’s smoothing his palms over his pants; nervous habit.

Tommy stretches his neck to look behind him, sees the blue rain jacket lying there. He can pinch it with his fingers from where they’re sitting. He drags it out. Troublemaker.

They sit together for another minute. Tommy can hear Sloane marching the kids away to find their parents. If he really tunes into the noises around them, he can hear some laughter and lots of walkies; they're finishing up here. He'll probably get called in soon enough to pack up.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

Evan nods, then tips his head back onto Tommy’s shoulder. “Better. Thank you.”

Tommy moves his hand down to Evan’s face, just to tilt his cheek a little closer, plants a long, sure kiss there.

“I’ve got you.”

Evan smiles. “Yeah, you got me.”

[itsagoodluckkiss]

I Know The End

Pairings: Roronoa Zoro x f!reader, platonic strawhats x f!reader

Summary: This is based on one of my favorite songs, I Know The End by Phoebe Bridgers, and I take the meaning of this song as a "when you're at the bottom, the only way is up" kind of song. Reader is a friend of Nami, she has air powers and joins the Strawhats after they help her save her town.

Warnings: Mild East Blue spoilers, kinda OC Zoro, typical OP violence, otherwise pure fluff, no use of Y/N

WC: 3.7κ

A/N: Oi, hello there! This is my first One Piece fanfic, took me a bit more than I expected but I did it! I have another one for my first request on the way, but since this is my first, I had to post one about my fave! Also, I'm sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. Anyways, hope you enjoy it, and if you do, pretty please leave a comment! Requests are open! ❤️

“I’m not gonna go down with my hometown in a tornado, I’m gonna chase it. I gotta go now, I know. Driving out into the sun, let the ultraviolet cover me up. Went looking for a creation myth, ended up with a pair of cracked lips… A slaughterhouse, an outlet mall, slot machines, fear of God… Big bolt of lightning hanging low. Over the coast everyone’s convinced it’s a government drone or an alien spaceship.”

Feeling out of place is something you get used to when living in this part of the East Blue and seek adventure; it is called the weakest sea for some reason after all. Even if she loved her living place, she disliked the fact that people mostly minded their own business without blinking an eye to the suffering and corruption around them. She couldn’t entirely blame them; it wasn’t an easy thing caring about neighboring regions when your own was constantly hit by natural disasters, causing deaths and lifetime labors destroyed.

She had just learned that the Conomi Islands had been freed by Arlong’s cruel rule after eight whole years. She wondered how Nami was. They had met a couple of years ago when she caught her rummaging her family’s vault and helped her through it without getting her caught. She hid her in her room while the Navy was looking for the thief. She didn’t need the money and it was obvious to her that Nami did. Nami was her first real friend. The week they spent together, drinking and getting to know each other, talking about their backstories, their wants and plans for the future was the best in her life. She had promised that after she’d buy her village back and free it, she’d come to see her again. She hadn’t heard from Nami since.

They said it was because of the Marines the islands were liberated. She could never believe that for one second. Her curious personality always managed to get her into the Navy’s business, making her family’s influence and prestige on the island take a hit every time she got into trouble with them. She couldn’t help that all this talk from the Marines about justice and keeping the peace made her want to throw up on their shiny uniforms. She knew it was all an act for them and their allies to maintain power. How could Marines talk about values when regions and people were enslaved and the Navy turned a blind eye instead of helping, just for power and some berries?

Her dream was to end all that fake order and bring actual freedom to those in need; to become a freedom fighter and help people. She needed the right opportunity but also, she had to take advantage of every situation if she wanted to get away from that place someday and seek what she so wholeheartedly craved. So she learned her family’s secrets and strengths. It’s not every day you see generations of people knowing how to yield the air around them, giving them a bunch of abilities like flying or sucking the air out of their enemies’ lungs or causing hurricanes of every size. She knew when to play nice and be obedient so that her parents would teach her their ways, thinking that she would grow out of her rebellious phase, would learn about and protect her family’s rule. It’s not an easy task for them to cover up the Navy’s dirt on the island after all.  

The more she mastered her power, the more she could see that something was wrong with her family. She had started to notice the patterns. Every time the island was hit by a storm or a natural disaster, they were never home. At first, it would make sense that they’d go and help their people. Then, after the storms, her island’s Navy unit and its captain started collecting “taxes” for rebuilding the infrastructures. Thing was, the taxes would constantly go up, bringing inhabitants to their knees. Meanwhile, her family didn’t seem affected at all. They would just roam the island, giving advices and pacifying the angry voices that protested the Navy. So, she decided, in the next hurricane, she would learn her parents and older siblings’ sketchy business. She had to know what was the cause of all this and what she could do to change it.

~

Meeting new people travelling between islands and seas was a fascinating thing. She loved hearing stories about their adventures, about different places and bigger dangers, fights between pirates and marines or about the golden age of piracy. About the Grand Line, the different weather conditions in each island, the devil fruits and the abilities they gave their users. She would always wander through the port, looking for more myths coming to life by the sailors that docked their ships on her island for supplies.

When she spotted a beautiful pirate caravel, with a sheep figurehead in its bow and its Jolly Roger with a straw hat, docked in their port, she felt a strange wave of excitement and peace. She couldn’t explain it but that beautiful ship radiated so much love and care, like it had a soul of its own and a smile that made everyone feel like home if they stepped into it. She stood there, admiring it from afar, when she felt someone standing next to her.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she? Her name is Merry! She’s my ship.”

She turned to look at the stranger. A boy around the same age as hers, with a small scar under his right eye and a straw hat on his head, and that made her assume this was the captain. He had a smile so vibrant, it reminded her of the sun. His energy was so welcoming, she felt like she could be friends with him on a whim.

“Hello. She is indeed a sight to behold.”

She gave him a warm smile back, raising her hand to introduce herself.

“That’s a pretty name. I’m Luffy, and I’m gonna be King Of The Pirates!”

She couldn’t help but laugh, but it had no malice. She loved dreamers, being one herself, and even if she met that boy only a couple of minutes ago, she could see he would give everyone in the world a run for their money. A gust of wind blew, taking his hat away, and before he could react, she brought it back to him through the air around her. She placed it on his head and gave him a toothy grin.

“There! You can’t be King Of The Pirates without your trademark, right?”

“THANK YOU! YOU’VE GOT AIR POWERS? THAT’S SO COOL! YOU SHOULD JOIN OUR CREW!”

She was dumbfounded by his enthusiasm and his abrupt proposal. Never had she met anyone like him, so thrilled by her presence and her little air tricks. Before she could reply, she heard footsteps and another male voice behind her.

“Oi Luffy, stop scaring people by asking them to join us like that, will you?”

She turned to look at the deeper voice, and for a moment it felt like lighting coursing through her veins. Taller and more muscular than the boy next to her, he looked a bit older than them both, with short green hair and eyes gray as steel, three golden earrings that gleamed in the sunlight graced his left ear. He had a sharp gaze that radiated a strong and confident energy, one that lacked fear or hesitation. She never believed in love at first sight, but this felt as close as she could imagine it would feel. The man approached them and introduced himself to her.

“Roronoa Zoro? As in ‘Pirate Hunter’ Zoro? In a pirate crew?”

Of course she had heard of his reputation. Who didn’t know the infamous bounty hunter swordsman in the East Blue? He chuckled at her surprise.

“Yeah, well, long story short, this guy here has an effect of convincing people easily.”

“There you are, you idiots! We’ve been looking for you everywhere! We’re not here for me to babysit you not getting lost, we’re here to find my-”

She heard a familiar female shriek before she felt soft arms around her, squeezing her tight, and she immediately knew who it was. She could never forget her best friend’s hugs. She returned the hug as she screamed Nami’s name, before they both started to cry tears of joy. Her hand grabbed her upper arm, and she felt deep scars where her Arlong tattoo should be but was replaced by another, prettier one.

“I was so worried about you! I learned what happened to your village and I didn’t know what to think!”

“You should have known I’d be okay, you know I always pull through. Although, these guys were the greatest help I could get. They are the reason I’m freed and I wanted to keep my promise to you.”

She looked at the boys around them with gratitude, two more joining them, a blond boy wearing a suit, who looked like he would burst into flames from the heart eyes on his face and another one with wavy hair, a long nose and mischief in his eyes.

“I can’t thank you enough for helping my friend. She means the world to me!”

“Whoa, Nami’s your friend? Now you should definitely join our crew! We’ve heard so much about you, the only reason we stopped here before Loguetown was to find you!” Luffy said with enthusiasm.

“Yes, it’s not every day you hear someone born into money giving them away without question, hiding the thief in addition and fighting their way to get them out safely. You must be quite the character.” Zoro smirked at her.

“And to add to that, you’re also a sight to behold, my lady!” the blond boy said as he kissed her hand and introduced himself as Sanji, making her laugh at his advances.

“We’ve heard you have a great mind for plans too. Could use a strategist in this group of idiots that run into danger head on. I always device a plan to beat my enemies. I’m Usopp by the way.”

She was dumbfounded to say the least, taking them all and their kind words in. She met these guys a few moments ago, yet never had she felt such a feeling of being so welcomed by the people around her, she was so used to being ignored that this interaction almost made her sob. She kissed Nami’s cheek before letting her go.

“I… thank you guys… you’re all so sweet… but I don’t think I’m that good-”

“Bullshit, you’ll be the smartest person besides me in this crew. Come on now, I know how much you long to get the hell out of this place, they’ve never appreciated you anyways, and I don’t think anything changed since we met.” Nami proclaimed, smiling at her.

“No… not much anyway. I just learned how to use my powers now… Look, I don’t know what to think of this, I have-”

A loud rumble shook the earth below them. She felt the temperature drop rapidly and she knew what was coming. Now was her chance to find out the truth she looked for, the one that could possibly make her decide to cut ties with her family if her speculations were true. She turned to the Strawhats, as they called themselves, and smiled brightly.

“Thank you guys. But I have to run now. There are rooms for rent down this road, run and cover yourselves and don’t come out before the storm passes. Maybe I’ll see you around after that.”

As they started to protest, she flew off to the source of the hurricane she could see coming from afar.

And sure enough, the feeling of throwing up from disgust and despair overwhelmed her when she arrived at the source. She saw her family controlling the hurricanes and lightings that hit her island, and the Navy captain, who she knew was a devil fruit user, was shaking the ground, causing the earthquake, while his Unit watched from the sidewalks. Bodies were scattered around damaged buildings, scenery of pure horror. Before she could react to stop this, she felt boulders hitting her, splitting her lips and bruising her body, blood running down her jaw as she fell down.

~

Logically, everything fell into place. Emotionally, nothing made sense. She couldn’t comprehend how she could have been raised by such cruel people. Her eyes welled up with tears, but not from the pain she felt on her body, but from the sight in front of her, as her parents approached her, proclaiming she was not mature enough to understand their family’s best interest and how she has always been such a disappointment, never listening, never following orders, an annoying, meddling child.

“Do whatever you want; we can’t do anything about her anymore.” Her parents proclaimed to the navy captain as he too approached.

“You’ve always been a pain in the ass and I can finally get rid of you.” The captain proclaimed as he unsheathed his sword.

She closed her eyes but she never felt the blade on her skin. The captain’s scream echoed as his arm got cut off from the shoulder, his sword hitting the ground.

“Swords are not toys, captain. You don’t get to play with them.”

Her head spin to the male voice behind her and her eyes widen as she saw the five pirates ready to fight. Zoro was the closest to her, having drawn one of his swords that was now covered in blood, leaving a clean cut on the marine’s shoulder. Usopp was standing a few feet behind, a slingshot in his hand as he shoot at the navy soldiers, the collision ended in blasts and the soldiers started to run away. Nami was holding a strange, long, steel pole that seemed by its use to control the weather around them with air bubbles.

“You’re not hurting a lady on my watch.” Sanji proclaimed before his leg collided with the bleeding captain’s face, kicking him to the ground.

“He was already done, curlybrows.”

“Shut your mouth, marimo!”

They were bickering as if they all were not in a life or death situation. The most shocking thing was Luffy, who was stretching his body as he was wielding what seemed to be the bark of a tree around, taking soldiers and her family with it.

“Nami said you had problems with your family. You seemed worried. So we followed you.” He said with a toothy grin.

Zoro grabbed her hand and raised her from the ground.

“You know how to fight I assume?”

“Yes I do.”

“Well then, let’s give them hell, pretty girl.”

~

Either way, we’re not alone. I’ll find a new place to be from. A haunted house with a picket fence, to float around and ghost my friends. I’m not afraid to disappear. The billboard said "The End Is Near". I turned around, there was nothing there. Yeah, I guess the end is here.”

And sure enough, she couldn’t believe the six of them managed to stop the destruction while fighting the whole navy unit and her family combined, who were now running away from the angry crowd that had assembled when the hurricanes stopped and saw the whole thing happening.

“You guys… I can’t thank you enough-”

“Pffff, that was nothing, it was funny being blown away, felt like flying hehe.” Luffy laughed as he grabbed her in a hug. “You’re Nami’s friend, so you are our friend too!”

She had started crying by now as she hugged Luffy back, the feelings she felt in that moment couldn’t be described.

“I think… I think I’ll join you guys!”

~

A week had passed since her family fled off the island that was now filled with marines who listed the damages and arrested their own dirty kind. They had made a futile attempt to take the strawhats in, and before they would even start a fight, the people of the island wreaked havoc, not even letting them close to their saviors. She took the crew in the house that was now hers.

She helped Nami move all the gold from the house onto their ship. She gave Usopp advices for his trinkets and how they would fly through the air easier. She cooked with Sanji and then would catalog the storages that would be taken with them to their journey, with Luffy receiving several kicks from the cook because he tried to eat everything. She had never had so much fun in her life as she had with them. Her favorite moments came at night, usually spent drinking with Zoro. They had talked about their childhoods, he had told her about his family how died when he was a toddler, his promise to his childhood friend who died way before her time, how he acquired that big scar across his chest. The more she got to know him, the more connected she felt to him, like a final puzzle piece falling right in to place.

On their last night, everyone was fast asleep, getting the rest they’d need since they would cross the entrance to the Grand Line the next day. But her anticipation wouldn’t let her sleep. After tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, she got off her bed and walked around the house, taking it in one last time. She had decided to gift it to a large family whose home got destroyed. It was a fact that she didn’t want anything to do with that place anymore. Tomorrow morning her life would change forever. Her mind leading her nowhere in particular, she walked to her terrace. The wind, soft and gentle, rustled through the leaves of the trees, creating a soothing melody, and she could see the sea ahead, illuminated by the moon, which casted a silvery glow on the water. It was a peaceful scene, yet she could feel her heart racing when she saw Zoro sitting on the bench of her terrace, polishing his swords. 

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asked as he glanced at her.

“I… I guess I’m nervous about tomorrow.”

“It must be a little overwhelming, I guess. Don’t worry though, we’re a good crew, we’ll take care of you.”

A small smile played on his lips. His words were reassuring, but there was something else in his tone, something that made her heart skip a beat. She bit her lip, walking to the edge of the terrace, her hands holding on to the railing as she tried to find the right words to say.

“I know I’ll be safe with you, guys. It’s just… it feels like the end is near for me in this place… and being in a pirate crew is going to be something so new and big… and I don’t feel like I bring a lot on the table…”

He chuckled softly as he placed his swords down, walking towards to stand next to her, taking her hand in his to give a firm squeeze.

“The end is near for this part of your life, indeed. But you’re strong, you’re brave, and you’re a great fighter. You’ve been through a lot and yet you’re one of the kindest people I’ve met, still standing here, ready to face whatever comes next. That takes a lot of courage, and it takes character. I think you bring a lot, and you’re going to fit right in with us. You’re not alone.”

She smiled shyly, feeling warmth spread through her chest, her eyes almost welling up. He smiled back, his expression genuine.

“Thank you, Zoro. You really have no idea how much that means.”

“I think I do. I know what it’s like to be uncertain about the future, to feel like you don’t belong anywhere. But you belong with us now. You’re going to make a great crewmate. It’s good to have you on board. I have a feeling you’re going to surprise all of us with what you can do.” He paused, his expression a bit more serious. “And… if you need to talk… or vent or… anything… I’m here.”

A deep blush crept up across her cheeks. “I… thank you… for everything. Same goes for me.”

She felt her heart flutter as he continued to hold her hand, her stare moving to meet his gaze. She couldn’t help but feel more at ease with him and he couldn’t deny the way he felt either.

“For now, I think we should just enjoy being together and explore this new thing we’ll find ourselves in. Who knows what kind of trouble we’ll stumble upon?”

“I’m looking forward to seeing what awaits us.” She leaned a bit closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “And I’m looking forward to get to know you better too.”

It was time for his heart to skip a beat at her words. Her eyes widened but before she could shy away, he leaned in closer, and their lips met in a tender, hesitant kiss, a slow, gentle brushing of lips. The sounds of the forest faded away, leaving only the beating of their hearts and the rush of blood in their ears.

~

“Take care!”

“Come back soon!”

“Sorry I was mean to you, can’t wait to see you again!”

“Be safe and make us proud!”

“Don’t disappear!”

Most of the town’s people were at the port to give their regards to the strawhats and her. The others were already abroad, her being the last to climb the rope ladder on to her new home. She turned around before hoping on to the deck, and took in how weird and eerie her town looked now, like looking at a haunted house from afar.

“So, the end is near, then?”

She lifted her head to see Zoro’s smirk as he gave her his hand to lift her on to the ship. Someone shouted at her to not disappear. She wasn’t afraid of that. She was afraid of staying still. Her head turned around one last time and she saw nothing there.

“Yeah, I guess, the end is here.”

And she took his hand.

[nikrei]

For day two, Bart just won the Young Justice chess* tournament!! Traya came in second and Slobo came in third. Full tournament lineup and chess* headcanons under the cut

Welcome to my yj chess headcanons:

1) what YJ calls chess is actually 5 dimensional chess with multiverse time travel. They just call it chess. They have sort of forgot the regular version exists. (I am, however, a fake 5d chess fan: it languishes in my steam library, intimidating, unplayed)

2) tim discovered it and got them all into it. They like it varying amounts:

Bart: undisputed reigning champion of 5 dimensional chess with multiverse time travel. Loves this game.

Cassie: has the basics down and does fine vs other folks or the game ai. Hates the game. Must be tricked into being competitive about it to make her join in.

Tim: was excited about the game and got v into it v intensely as he does. Burnt himself out on it a bit. He's pretty good but doesn't know if he loves or hates the game. Will get hypercompetitive about it tho.

Kon: good at it pretty naturally because he's used to thinking in multiple dimensions (been flying since day 1) but he can psych himself out second guessing his moves. Likes playing the game, can get competitive.

Greta: good at the game because she has so. much. free time. Can get tunnel focused on it and doesn't mind losing as much as the others, so can play against bart for hours and hours. Always up for a game, enjoys it.

Cissie: good at it pretty naturally, but doesn't have strong feelings about it. Plays mostly with Traya because Cassie really doesn't want to.

Traya: v good at it, and really likes it. Plays with Cissie at school and also Red Tornado a lot. Prolly can beat Bart maybe 1 in 5 times?

Anita: wasn't sure about it but got hypercompetitive about it and is now pretty good. Likes it now that she's good at it.

Slobo: also v good at it! Its similar to some space games prolly, and like kon he's v used to thinking in multiple dimensions. Doesn't get as competitive as some of the others which really gets them steamy when he beats them.

Ray: Newbie player who got thrown in the deep end. One day YJ was like, let's have a chess tournament! And Ray was like, oh okay thats a wierd thing to do out of the blue but I can roll with that I know chess. He did not know chess. Still learning but getting the hang of it. Now has a fear response to it tho.

3) they play online w each other all the time but every now and then have tournaments when they are all hanging out. They used to just do a winner plays next round sort of thing but it always just ended up w everyone losing to bart all the time. Tournament winners get favors and tournament losers have to do dares.

4) bart plays with his civilian friends too!! They are varying levels of into it but I think Carol likes it a lot.

5) one time Ra's al Ghul challenged tim to a game of chess and when he got sat down at a regular chess board he was just like.......whet is this.... and completely blanked on the rules to regular chess

[manari-archives]

emails i can't send fwd: masterlist

note: some of the stories are not inspired by the entire song and only a couple of lines or verses.

001. emails i can't send | CS55

It's times like these, wish I had a time machine So I could see what you did And thanks to you I, I can't love right I get nice guys and villainize them

002. Vicious | CS55

You're lucky I'm a private person I've quietly carried your burden, and Everyone thinks you're an angel But, shit, I would probably use different wordin'

003. Read your Mind | MV1

To think that we could be casual You're not my friend And, baby, you never were Why the fuss if you say you just wanna be mine?

004. Tornado Warnings | LH44

I'll drive you home ,You drive me crazy But that's not gonna stop me I'll call you out, You call me "baby"

005. because i liked a boy | GR63

Tell me who I am, guess I don't have a choice All because I liked a boy You said I'm too late to be your first love, but I'll always be your favorite

006. Already Over | MS47

We been talkin' for hours 'bout how we shouldn't talk for hours on end Kissing after a conversation 'bout how we'd probably be better off as friends

007. how many things | LS18

I wonder how many things you think about before you get to me I wonder how many things you wanna do you think I'm in-between I feel myself falling further down your priorities And I still make excuses for you constantly

008. bet u wanna | DR3

When you don't have control of who I'm holdin' Is it feeding all your fears? Bet you miss me, bet you're reminiscin' I bet you hate the way that you said goodbye

009. Nonsense | MS47

You said you like my eyes and you like to make 'em roll Treat me like a queen, now you got me feelin' thrown, oh I think I got an ex, but I forgot him

010. Fast Times | LN4

Couple days in, I call you "baby" Three stories up here contemplatin' But what the fuck is patience Give me a second to forget I ever really meant it

011. skinny dipping | DR3

But both of us, we'll be thinking about how different we are From those scared little kids that had those Arguments in your garage All the ways we sabotaged it What it was and what it wasn't

012. Bad for Business | LH44

We look good in photographs, I like the way you like to laugh At dirty jokes, I know they'll always land Used to get to work on time, but now you're taking up my nights Never been so glad to be so tired

013. decode | MV1

There's a weight off my shoulders now that I don't chase you Being myself, did that emasculate you? Learning from you that I can walk away too

014. opposite | CL16

Oh so you do have a type? And it's not me Oh so you can reply? Just to not me So y'all are in Paris now? Guess it's public Face like that other girl,You're in love with

015. Feather | CL16

Your signals are mixed, You act like a bitch You fit every stereotype, "Send a pic" I got you blocked, Excited to never talk I'm so sorry for your loss

016. Lonesome | GR63

If I fall in love with all my problems, will they leave me too? Well maybe I believed in all your lies, 'cause I believed in you Why were you somewhere else when you were next to me? I know, you know, it keeps me up

017. things i wish you said | LN4

When I saw you cry, I didn't handle it well Without you here I don't know what to do with myself I hope you know it scared me to death The night that your sister said that you got in an accident

[naamahdarling]

How do you cope with “don’t trust your brain”? I can’t trust it at any time of day, due to the dysthymia.

For me, realizing that it is time-related for me really helped. I learned to identify those feelings in specific because of when they routinely occurred, and am now able to lower their internal priority.

With dysthymia that isn't going to be helpful, though.

But still, some of this probably will be at least a bit useful because the helpful part for me was less the time - that was just the factor that made it easiest to catch. It was mostly that identifying them was the first step. Like that part isn't always easy, the thoughts are REALLY COMPELLING, we assign them high priority because of their strength, so it's hard to say "Wait. These intense feelings I am having are not accurate They are a distortion of the facts. They are based on valid fears. However, the way they are currently all ganging up on me, or feel unusually intense, is not in proportion."

And that's sort of where I am now. Here's some stuff I do.

I respond by gently reminding myself that I have a condition that predisposes me, I tell myself it's okay to have the feelings, and then I say "I am going to do what is best for me in this moment while these thoughts upset me." And that can me hard as hell and I can't always do it. But I am trying and learning.

When I get the three o'clocksies as I call them (my schedule is often twisted around enough that they happen at 3, my equivalent of 8 or 9) I take a short bit to remind myself it's a distorted perception (or sometimes utterly false, like when I get the "everyone hates me"s), I challenge it gently, then try not to give it a chance to respond. I try not to argue with it because that doesn't help. And I just find something else to do or think about.

Maybe I move to something I know I like even if I don't want to, and give it a bit to see if I can switch gears. Maybe I say "well I'm ruined for a while, might as well do something hateful like get some water or gather some trash, or brush my teeth, because if I have to suffer I can at least suffer to make my future self a bit happier." That didn't come easy either. Occupying my hands AND my mind is important. I often can't turn the bad feelings volume down if I don't occupy my mind. Movies don't work, but podcasts/audiobooks and hand crafts or engaging phone games do. I have like sixteen I can choose from. (Your library may have audiobooks to borrow digitally btw. It's very cool.)

I ask for help, I ask for asks here a lot, I have some friends to talk with about fun things, my boyfriend is great. Doing imaginative stuff like discussing silly questions (the gryphon question I just got was like a perfect example, thanks!), what-ifs for our OCs or fanfic, or silly stuff like we watch a ghost hunting show and stop it to ask what we/our imaginary people would do, or a spooky movie or podcast or reality show and we raise a hand at the point where we would nope out. We're watching a cake show and we pause it to say what we would do or what winner we would pick. Having another person is so helpful, but you CAN do this with yourself. Write the answers out longhand or journal them on your phone (Journey app!). I will now often do this WHILE I AM CRYING, guys. It helps. Even if I think it won't. I did it during a goddamn tornado warning where for once it WAS very fucking close. Boyfriend was safe across town, I am unbelievably scared of storms and was in about the scariest one I've been in since a kid, and I was snot-crying on the phone and once we said our I love yous we just talked about stupid OC shit. And by god it got me through.

Reading aloud to my cats has helped before.

Like. Whatever it is that's crawling up your spine. It's so much about saying "look, I feel this way, and it is INTENSE, but I don't have to just sit with it; I can do other stuff WHILE I feel this way, I can engage with things ALSO, I can have other thoughts too." You don't have to end the thoughts by force. You can just let them run and move on as much as possible, think about other things as best you can. And with practice it DOES get easier. It does.

Another thing I have recently discovered is that I need TIME to have emotional reactions. Someone I love said something unintentionally SUPER HURTFUL a while ago, and y'all I was SO ANGRY. SO FURIOUS. And I realized before I could address the situation and tell them they crossed a line, I needed to make room to have this huge emotional response before acting, and they DIDN'T need to be part of that. Even though the intense feelings demanded I act, I didn't. With practice, amazingly, I have learned to give MYSELF the space we all talk about giving others to feel first, solve after. It took practice but I'm there. Once I cooled off, I realized not just why I reacted the way I did (specific past trauma) but why they said what they did (their own past trauma, inappropriately dumping it on me) and was able to talk it over with them in an empathetic way and it all smoothed out, with better boundaries now.

The having the emotional reaction thing may not work in some cases such as repetitive thoughts of, say, trauma, but when there is a precipitating event that just happened or I get blindsided by a trigger, it is really helpful to realize it's a reaction, probably a really understandable one, and I won't feel like this forever.

Also psych meds and specifically mood stabilizers are really great for me. I'm on two, and at first I had some internalized ableist shame around taking them because I didn't like how it implied I was like my toxic mom with her uncontrolled rapid cycling (not why she was toxic, but it made me feel like I was failing at being Not Like Her), but WOW having them has helped. The right meds. It can be hard to get that in place, but I did want to say, it really did help me.

I have also with my therapist built a safe place in my mind. This doesn't have to be boring! I have a floating island with cloud oceans, lovely ruins, amazing wildlife, and a badass wizard lair. And in it is a box for the horrible thoughts I can't deal with right now like the PTSD stuff, so it's contained when I'm not working with it, and a koi pond where I drop these glowing rocks I imagine the scary feelings going into, and then the water cleans them and turns them into pretty stones. Like, this was just stupidly useful and I never thought to do it in a way that wasn't boring before. So I can go there, now, with practice, for a quick visit to drop some bad stuff off. I also visit as I fall asleep and explore, to help make it easier to go there quickly. Doesn't work for everyone, has been good for me. Come to Magic Floating Islands! We have perytons and flying coelacanths!

Anyway, I don't know if that's helpful. Other folks might have ideas. But that is kind of where I'm at. It isn't perfect, doesn't always work, but I'm getting better because it's partially just a skill. You know? You're already a bit ahead of where you were initially, since you know it's a distorted pattern. There was a time before you realized that and it probably sucked even more, and there will be a time after this when you have one or two things to try that will suck a little less. It won't be a hundred percent, but you do move forward a bit at a time.

Hope that helps a little. 💕

[its-jaytothemee]

Until I Met You - Chapter 20

Chapter 20: The Looming Shadows

Pairings: Halsin x Tav

Word count: 4,602

Rating: Currently M, will be Explicit in later chapters.

Read on AO3

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Summary: Halsin and Tav must face the fact that they are returning to Moonrise. Tav sees the shadow curse again in her dreams, Halsin struggles to deal with the guilt and responsibility of their next steps. Part 20 of the slow burn fic. Tav and Halsin POVs.

Tags: Slow burn, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual love confessions, eventual smut, angst, implied past rape/non-con and abuse, graphic description of injuries, brief suicidal thoughts.

A/N: Just gonna go ahead and post this tonight to take my mind off the tornado warnings buzzing on my phone every 5 minutes. Have some more tooth rotting sweetness to finish out act 1 <3. I hope you've enjoyed so far! I've loved seeing the lovely comments and support for my writing. Next chapter will start the act 2 part of the story and oooooohhhh boy am I excited. Might be a little longer before I post another chapter as I outline and get more of my playthrough completed :)

Tav’s nerves wouldn’t allow her a restful meditation. The darkness of the Underdark twisted around her, dragging her back to the day she saw the shadow curse unleashed.

Tav’ahria and her team had just broken through the first rank of Dark Justiciars. The battlefield around her was a storm of blood, swords, and arrows. Each time she aimed her bow, she was careful to look for the silver pin of the Harpers, the symbol that identified her allies. Most of the Sharrans were easy to single out, their heavy and ornate armor stood out against the simple leathers favored by Ria and her team. Despite the Justiciars’ skill in battle, the Harpers and druids around her had pushed them back. From what they learned in their last report, Ketheric Thorm had fallen, yet his loyal followers continued to fight.

She had just arrived at the front lines a few days before, her squad was called from Amn to join the fight. Her brother, Tev’aron, had been here for weeks, fighting under command of the High Harper herself. Ria had never met Jaheira, but her reputation was well known to her long before she left the confines of Baldur’s Gate.

A wave of cheers and battle cries sounded as Thorm’s forces began their retreat. Ria and her allies did not let up. Arrows still soared through the air, finding their way between the slats in the Sharran armor. The clanging sound of crossed swords rang around her. But something wasn’t right, the Sharrans here outnumbered their squad, why would they run when they had the clear advantage?

She felt the shadows long before she saw them. A bitter feeling came over her like a cursed blanket, sapping all warmth from her body. She let out an uneasy breath and the air from her lungs puffed out in a small cloud in front of her.

“Fall back.” Her voice was quieter than she intended, suddenly petrified by the dark magic she felt moving towards her.

“What? We have them on the run, we must press our attack!” A young tiefling woman yelled back to her, sword still raised high.

“No…this is a trick. Something’s coming…” Ria frantically scanned the wilderness around them, trying to find a source. Her eyes widened in horror as they fell on the horizon just past Reithwin.

An unnatural dark mist was gathering and lifting into the sky. Cascading over the buildings in town, falling to the ground like thick currents of molasses. Growing ever taller, Ria feared this was a darkness that would soon consume all of those across the battlefield.

“Run.” She turned to the other Harpers around her. “Run!” She screamed the second time.

Grabbing the hand of the young tiefling woman behind her, she pulled her along as they sprinted in the opposite direction of Moonrise Towers. A paranormal screech rang across the sky, the sound pierced her eardrums like a thousand tiny needles. She spared one glance over her shoulder, immediately regretting the decision.

A wall of darkness was chasing after them, enveloping all in its path. She could hear screams from far behind her – Sharrans, Harpers, and druids alike.

“Keep running! Do not stop until you can’t run anymore!” She shouted at those around her, desperate to keep them ahead of the horrible magic nipping at their heels. When she looked up to the sky, the sun was blacked out almost entirely and the wall of shadows hadn’t even made it to them yet. There was no way they could outrun whatever it was that had been unleashed here.

“Ria! Stay close to me.” A young dwarf, Helida, called out beside her, one of their faithful clerics of Selûne. She cast a light spell on the staff she carried causing a small dome of moonlight to rise around them. The other clerics around her seemed to follow her lead, she could see multiple little bubbles of light popping up as the darkness began to catch up to them.

“Keep near the clerics! Find any source of light you can!” Ria shouted, trying to make her words known to as many people as possible.

Before she knew it, the wall of shadows descended on their retreating forces. Despite the fact it was comprised of mist and darkness, the magic was like a brick wall being slammed into her. Most of them were knocked off their feet. Ria watched, helpless, as many of the pockets of light went out around them, the clerics’ concentration disrupted by the dark magic. Tears stung her eyes as she worked to catch the breath that had been knocked from her lungs. The young dwarf with them was still standing, leaning heavily on her glowing spear for support.

“We have to keep moving…” Ria managed to wheeze the words out, favoring a likely cracked rib or two. She cast a quick healing spell to ease some of the pain, she couldn’t spare the time to fully recover.

Their small group stayed huddled against their cleric, trying to keep her protected from the strange shadowy beings that had now appeared around them. Just past their little bubble of light, cursed corpses growled and thrashed at them. She didn’t know how long they ran, the darkness around them was so thick they had no way of knowing which direction they were headed. As they made their way towards the edge of the eerie nightfall, she could feel the weight of it getting lighter and lighter. It must have taken the rest of the day to find their way out. By the time they finally emerged from the shadows, the sun had set, and the moon shone high in the sky. She pushed them on a little further, unsure of how far the curse’s effects would reach.

Finally, the Helida collapsed to the ground, utterly exhausted. The light radiating from her spear faded away as she gasped for air.

“I…I can’t go on…” Her hands were shaking, sweat soaked the strands of hair falling around her face.

Tav’ahria nodded in response, helping move her towards a nearby tree to lean against. The rest of their small group followed suit, desperately trying to catch their breath. She looked around at the frightened faces, confusion and shock evident in all of them.

So few…

“Does…does this mean we failed?” A dark-haired man sat in the grass next to the dwarf, scratches lined his face and neck. “Did Thorm claim victory this day?”

“I don’t think anyone can claim victory today.” Tav shuddered as she thought of the Dark Justiciars that also fell to the darkness, how many were sacrificed in the name of their terrible goddess.

“Except perhaps Shar herself.” Helida still leaned against the tree, panting to try and catch her breath.

Shar’s vindictiveness and scorn knew no rival. An entire land, destroyed, simply because they dared to worship her sister. How many innocent lives had been lost in the eternal struggle between Selûne and Shar? How many more had yet to be lost?

She took a moment to heal herself further, giving her the chance to check on the others around them. Her eyes constantly checked the massive shadowy barrier, hoping and pleading to any god who would listen that someone, anyone would follow them out. Her prayers went unanswered. They waited for hours, no others came, allies or Sharrans.

“There’s a Harper safe house not far from here.” The young tiefling she had seen before was speaking. “We should wait there for any other survivors.”

They all nodded in agreement and began to make their way around the now shadow-cursed lands of Moonrise. Her mind wandered to Tev; she had no idea where he was in the fight. All she could do was hope that he had made it out another way and that he was working to find his way back to her.

Tav awoke in a puddle of her own sweat. Tears soaked her face and hair after reliving that fateful day at Moonrise. For the most part, she had pushed the memory from her mind, keeping it locked away behind wall after wall.

But tomorrow, she was going back.

Gods, how were they going to do this? The cultists had been using something called a moonlantern to pass through the land, but the ones they managed to recover were broken and useless. Lunari stirred awake beside her, gently bumping her with her muzzle.

“Scared?” The wolf looked up through her amber eyes.

“Yes, tomorrow will bring many new dangers.” She scratched her ears, thankful for her comforting nudges.

“We face many dangers. We are strong.” She breathed out a soft whine and laid her head in Tav’s lap.

“You must promise me you’ll stay close when we leave in the morning. Do not go wandering into the darkness.”

“Yes, I stay close to you and our new friends.”

“Good girl.” She buried her face in Lunari’s neck.

She dug into her pack, pulling out a small silver pin buried at the bottom. It depicted a small harp nestled inside of a crescent moon, a guiding star hovering above it.

The symbol of the Harpers.

The silver had tarnished over the years. She wasn’t sure why she had even kept it, she hadn’t been a Harper in almost a century. Still, seeing the small trinket comforted her, especially since they found out that there may be Harpers waiting for them at Last Light Inn. Maybe they had found survivors…maybe they had found…

No, don’t do this to yourself.

They didn’t know where these Harpers came from, or if they were even waiting for them. No need to get her hopes up yet. She palmed the pin and wrapped her fingers around it in a tight fist. After wiping the excess sweat from her skin, she stood up to stretch and take a few deep breaths. Her eyes flashed to the entrance of her tent. It was still early, she hadn’t been in a trance for long. She chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment while she decided whether she could go find Halsin yet. Their morning talks had been a lifesaver for her, having someone to just sit with and talk through her day, someone to watch the fire with in comfortable silence, a shoulder to lean on.

Tav peeked between the flaps that hung in the front of her tent. Halsin sat by the fire, as usual. He definitely looked awake, and restless. She smiled at the sight, it meant they could maybe have even more time together this morning.

***

Halsin found himself unable to rest. He could hardly believe it – his companions had ventured into the Sharran fortress and found the path to Moonrise Towers. The stronghold was cleared out, and they would be moving on to the next step of their journey first thing in the morning. He was going back to the shadow cursed lands. This was his chance, the chance he had awaited for so long.

He closed his eyes, trying to calm his anxiety. His mind was racing, every emotion he had suppressed over the last century came over him in waves, threatening to drown him.

Rage. Fear. Guilt. Shame. Regret. Grief. Dread. Numbness. Panic. Darkness.

Every meditation met with silence came rushing forward, reminding him of his failure. Reminding him that Thaniel remained a hostage of the curse, or worse. The thought of his friend’s imprisonment in such a dark magic had ripped a hole into his very being. One that, until now, he believed would remain a gaping void.

Footsteps snapped him out of his spiral, his eyes opened again to see Tav coming to sit by the fire. An involuntary smile stretched across his face, as it usually did whenever he saw her. Their daily talks had been the highlight of his travels, just the two of them awaking from their trances early in the morning. It was rare that anyone else in the camp was up at the same time, which gave them quite a bit of alone time. Now having travelled together for a while, they had become rather comfortable in each other’s presence. It was rare that they shared any awkward or clumsy moments anymore. They shared plenty of friendly touches and laughs now, their conversation coming easier. Much of it revolved around catching him up on the party’s activities of the previous day. Some mornings they just sat in comfortable silence, watching the fire or the glowing pond and observing the nightlife in the Underdark around them.

“Can’t sleep?” Halsin asked, noting the slight tremor in his voice.

“Hardly ever.” She teased.

“You know what I mean.” He responded with a playful eye roll as she sat next to him.

“It’s hard to rest when I know what comes next.” She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them to curl into a ball.

“I understand. Still, we’ll need all of our strength to make it through tomorrow.”

“I know. It’s just difficult knowing that we’ll be leaving this darkness for another one. Gods, how long have we gone without seeing the sun?” Her voice was wistful as she stared up into the vast expanse of the Underdark.

Too long, he thought to himself, and we’ll have to go longer still. He didn’t dwell on the thought though, not wanting to remember his last time spent in the Underdark or Moonrise right now.

Tentatively, he reached an arm out to put around her, seeking comfort in her company. He hovered his hand over her shoulder, beckoning her closer.

She leaned into his hug, resting her head against him. He could feel the slight trembles in her arms as he pulled her to his side.

“I saw the curse…in my dreams.” She whispered as they both watched the fire flicker as small embers twirled in the air with the tendrils of smoke.

“As did I.” Of course, he saw it most nights.

“Do you remember how cold it felt right before it was unleashed?”

“Yes, I remember worrying that I might never know warmth again.”

Halsin shivered at the memory. It was one he had seen many times in his meditations. An unnatural chill followed by unimaginable darkness. The sheer force of the shadows slamming into them. Dark, cursed vines curling around him and his peers, dragging most of them to their doom.

Thankfully Tav shifted beside him, interrupting his downward spiral.

“I found my old Harper pin.” Tav held up a small silver pin between her thumb and forefinger. The tarnished harp in a crescent moon was a familiar sight from his time at Moonrise. He took the pin and turned it over in his fingers.

“You know it’s strange, to think all those years ago we could have crossed paths. Simply allies passing by in a camp. Now here we are again.” He handed the pin back to her.

She chuckled. “I think I would have remembered meeting the Archdruid of the Emerald Grove. Then again, I wasn’t even able to make the connection between the Emerald Grove and the Emerald Enclave until after I met you.”

Halsin tried to swallow his thoughts, but they crawled their way back out of his throat.

“Well, I wasn’t Archdruid back then.” He let out a slight groan once he said the words. Tav had enough on her mind, he didn’t need to add to the burdens already weighing her down.

“No?” She leaned away to look up at him.

“I uh, I took over the position shortly after our return.” He tried to hide the shaking in his voice. The memories of those first days after the curse had been unleashed were days he longed to forget.

Tav nodded along as he spoke, a look of understanding and sorrow on her face.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. I…I can’t risk it pulling me away from my duty.” Halsin let out a long sigh.

“Okay.” She kept her eyes on him as he continued taking deep breaths.

Despite the controlled breathing and Tav’s comforting arm around him, he couldn’t slow the beating in his chest. The sorrowful pounding threatened to shatter his ribs. Tears gathered in his eyes as the realization truly sunk in that he was facing the shadows again. They had weighed heavy on his mind for decades, yet these final hours were somehow the heaviest. Tav’s face had shifted to worry.

“Halsin…” She pulled away so she could turn and fully face him. He tried to look away from her, not wanting to add the weight of his tears to her worries. But her hand caught the side of his face and turned him back to her. Her eyes searched his before looking over his entire face. The gentle touch on his cheek threatened to pull the tears out of his eyes.

“…I’ll be right back.” She patted him lightly before standing up to go back to her tent.

Once again not even the crackling fire in front of him could replace her warmth. He quickly wiped away the tears before she returned. Her footsteps coming back across camp caused him to let out a sigh of relief.

“May I?” She pointed to the large stone he was leaning against.

“Sure…” He sat up to allow her to sit behind him. As she went to take her seat, he noticed the small wooden comb in her hand. His breath caught in his throat, hoping that she brought it out for him.

“You know, if my hair is that unkempt you could always just tell me.” He tried to tease her to hide his eagerness.

“Well, if that’s what you want, I can just hand this over to you…” She went to stand up, but he leaned back against her legs to hold her in place.

“No!” He said it a little too fast and a little too loud. “Please…” His voice quieted.

He could feel the smirk on her face behind him as she settled back down.

Halsin felt her hands gently pulling at the tie in his hair. It came undone much easier than last time. Half of his hair fell forward over his face as she started untangling some of the smaller braids weaved into it. He felt the touch he had longed to feel again for days as her fingertips grazed his scalp.

His eyes fluttered closed as he let her comb and smooth out the strands. Every now and then her fingers would brush against his neck, sending pleasant shivers down his body. Each pass of her hands relaxed another muscle and before he knew it, he was once again a puddle in her arms. He leaned back between her legs, the warmth of them trapping him there.

The light scratching of the comb made his eyelids feel even heavier. Whenever she ran into a snag, she would gently hold the pieces so she wouldn’t pull on his scalp. More than once, he let out an involuntary soft sigh, especially when her fingers would catch the tips of his ears as she moved them among the strands.

Once she finished combing, he felt her gathering up sections of his hair and moving them around on the top of his head. Half was gathered in her hands, the other half still hung loose around his neck and shoulders. The familiar feel of a braid fell on the back of his head when she dropped the hair she had styled. As she took her final passes over his head, he started to wonder what he could say to keep her there for the rest of the morning.

Knowing Tav, he could have just asked. He was sure she would happily sit with him as she combed him into a coma if he just asked her to do so. But when he opened his mouth to speak, no words came.

She slid out from behind him to sit next to him on the ground again, exposing his shoulders back to the cool Underdark air.

“Better?” She asked.

“Better. Thank you.” His heartbeat had slowed back to normal, and not one tense muscle could be found on his body.

“How did you know?” He asked softly once she had settled down next to him.

“It’s something that always used to help me. My mother used to…” She stared into the fire as she trailed off, the light of the flames catching the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. After a moment she blinked a few times to push away the rest of the thought.

“Plus, the last time I did that I thought I had put you to sleep.” She giggled at the memory.

“It was very close, yes.”

They shared a quiet chuckle reminiscing about that first early morning talk.

“I was wondering if you…” She trailed off and bit her lip.

“What is it?” He turned to face her.

“Would you want to go sit by the pond? One more time before we leave?” Her nervous smile made his breath catch. As if she even needed to ask.

“I’d love to.” He stood up and helped her to her feet before offering his arm for her to take. She hooked her elbow around his as they made their way out of camp.

The short, familiar walk led them to the edge of the little pond. Tav immediately bent down to pick up a rock and tossed it into the water. Once again, tiny dots of light swam among the ripples, bringing a warm glow to the air around them. Tav plopped down in the dirt, patting the spot next to her for Halsin to take.

“Thank you again for showing this to me.” She smiled as he sat down. “I have to say this may have been the highlight of my adventure so far.”

The sentiment made his heart skip a beat. “Well, consider me honored to provide it.”

They sat close enough that their legs were touching. Every now and then one of them would throw another rock into the water, bringing back the light show. Tav told him more about their time in the adamantine forge and the giant metal monstrosity that guarded it. He watched as her smile broadened each time the glowing creatures returned, a simple gesture that made him ache like a lovesick youth. It was as if the tiny lights jumped from the water to dance around her face, skipping across the freckles as a child hops across stones in a creek.

How many times had they come to sit here? Even now, the pure joy radiating from Tav when they sat around this special spot together caught him off guard.

A picture of elven beauty.

It was his first reaction to meeting her. One that still held true a tenday later.

Their idle chatter faded into comfortable silence after a while and his eyelids started to feel heavy again. Despite the fatigue creeping in, Halsin desperately wanted to stay here, with Tav. To soak in just a little more light before facing the darkness again.

“We should try and get some more rest before the others wake, tomorrow will be a difficult day for us all.” She said the words with a heavy sigh but made no move to leave his side. A stab of panic hit him; he wasn’t ready to leave yet. He didn’t want to be alone right now.

Then tell her that, you old fool.

“Stay here with me a while longer? Heavens know I could use the company.” He offered, feeling his heart rate start to pick up again, but not from his anxiety. She was right of course, they would need their strength tomorrow. But he just couldn’t go back, not yet.

“Of course. I wouldn’t dream of breaking our morning talk tradition.” She smiled and scooted a little closer to him as he wrapped his arm back around her shoulder.

“The best part of my adventure by far.”

His response caused her to turn and look up at him, her smile shining bright with the dancing lights in the water. Halsin’s mind was racing again, bringing a whole new wave of emotions and thoughts.

Hope. Friendship. Safety. Courage. Affection. Warmth. Comfort. Desire…Light.

Sitting here next to Tav chased away the darkness within him. The pull in his chest was more tempting than ever. Soon enough, he hoped to be free again. Free to chase his desires, free of his guilt, free to follow his heart.

Free to follow his heart…as if he didn’t already know where it would lead. As if it wasn’t already beating for the extraordinary woman curled up beside him.

One day soon, he could tell her how he felt. He would tell her how she brought hope back into his life. Soon, he could tell her how he had longed to spend nights tangled in her embrace. He could tell her how she saved him, from the goblins, from the grove, from himself.

But for now, that would have to wait. The shadows of Moonrise were dangerous and all-consuming. If he didn’t give them his complete and utter attention, they could all be lost. At least in this moment though, he could enjoy the warmth of Tav resting against him and the lights shining across this little hidden gem they shared. He could keep the hope in his mind that her feelings for him hadn’t faded, and that they would remain until the shadows were banished.

***

Grymforge was clear, no additional duergar or Absolute cultists remained from what they could tell. After they packed up their camp, Tav led everyone to the concealed elevator down by the docks. At least this one didn’t look like it could break apart at any second. She took a deep breath as she prepared herself for another long ride. Halsin walked up next to her and held his arm out for her to take. Once again, she pressed herself tight to his side, only this time the height was the least of her worries.

They all rode up in silence, holding their breath in anticipation of whatever awaited them on the surface. She could feel the shadows approaching. They hadn’t reached the cursed lands yet, but they were close. Halsin tensed next to her, he felt it as well. As they continued to rise to the surface, the air grew heavier, colder.

When the elevator stopped, she took a moment to make sure everyone was equipped with torches. The light from the fire would deter the curse for a while, but they would have to find a way to cross through the thickest of the shadows. Likely those closest to Moonrise Towers.

Tav turned to face the long corridor that would lead them into the cursed darkness. The walls had gnarled, decayed vines crawling from their base to the ceiling. Her heart felt like it could burst through her chest any second. Halsin stood next to her, taking slow, deep breaths.

“Are you ready?” He asked her, his voice quiet and somber.

“Not in the slightest.” Tav whispered as her hands trembled at her side.

Halsin held one hand out to her in response, steady as an ancient oak tree. Yet she could still see his fear mirroring her own. Despite the growing dread and anxiety balling up in her chest, a timid smile spread over her face. With a small nod, she took his hand and held it tight.

Together, they took a step forward into the shadows.

[snailsrneat]

"Oh, You came to tell me happy birthday?..Heh, thank you for your consideration."

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

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

HII EVERYONE! So since it's Twyla's Birthday today I thought I'd give everyone a little treat and show off what I've been working on behind the scenes the last couple weeks.

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

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

The prefect of Ramshackle, popular amongst her peers for her laid back demeanor. She loves the arts and expressing herself through multiple mediums. Specifically through fashion, often choosing to dress in alternative clothing styles. Despite the visual difference, she blends in quite well among the other students. Even with her temperamental companions.

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

This is Twyla's new (and final) design! Let's talk about her little bit.

She's technically twisted from two different characters. Them being Bruno, from Encanto, and the three Fates from Hercules.

The three Fates are actually where I got the idea to give her the hobby of sewing, because I wanted her to have an association with string. Also they inspired the name of her unique magic magic.

Bruno mostly inspired her unique magic (like how it works and what it does) as well as parts of her personality and design.

Specifically he inspired her hoodie.

Aside from that though, design wise I also was inspire by other popular cartoon characters like The Hex Girls from Scooby-Doo, and Gwen from Total Drama.

I specifically wanted to go with a more grunge or goth aesthetic, mostly because we don't really see said aesthetics explored much through the canon cast, so it would give a good visual difference. Also she just matched ramshackle more.

But let's get to some actual character facts shall we?

Twyla is left-handed, but is slightly ambidextrous when it comes to using her hands for anything other than writing.

Her favorite food is pancakes, when asked why she just blinked and shrugged. "I dunno' know. Just make me feel like a little kid again."

Her least favorite food is Brussel-Sprouts, which she also allergic to.

She's been known to have several hobbies including sewing, drawing, designing, reading, writing, scrapbooking, photography, gaming, and baking.

It is also good to note that she has ADHD and it's hard to keep her attention one thing for long periods of time.

Atleast when it comes to things like school work. Her hobbies take up most of her free time.

She has lilapsiphobia, or the intense fear of tornadoes and hurricanes. She developed it due to a traumatic event during her childhood.

She is an orphan with a deceased mother and a "missing" father.

She use to work many different jobs when in the foster care system, ranging from an unground boxer to maid at a maid cafe.

She was in the fostercare system for a long time, until she turned sixteen. Which is when her inheritance kicked in and allowed her to move back in to her childhood home.

Until 6 months later when she was transported into Twst.

Her favorite flowers are Holly-Hocks.

She has been given many different nicknames by the rest of the cast bit to her the strangest happens to be what Vil calls her "French Fry#1"

Speaking of nicknames, Floyd often refers to her as "Manatee" or "Manny-Chan".

Let's hear some of her homescreen voicelines.

"Oh, hey, you look tired. Do you need take a break in the guest room?"

"OH! Shit. Forgot that I had homework for Trein today. *Sigh* I guess I'll just have to do it during Alchemy today."

"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm just drawing while waiting for class to start. You can join me if you'd like!"

"*Huff* *Huff*, huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine. Just, uhm, got distracted watching the squirrels and I had to run to make sure I wasn't late is all. Don't worry."

"Where's Grim? I don't know, probably off committing crimes against humanity...AGAIN."

"Uuuuugh, Crowley keeps bugging me about some stupid fight between a Pomefiore and Savannaclaw student. Why can't people at this school just learn to make up on their own?"

"Ramshackle dorm actually has some pretty neat history if you can find some of the old N.R.C. school books. Did you know that Ramshackle has never had a housewarden? Only ever Prefects."

"Man, if I have to hear Ace and Deuce bicker about something dumb one more time I think I might actually commit murder."

"Heh, Azuls flustered face is so funny. He's makes it so easy to want to bully him I almost can't stop myself."

"Leona I swear to fu- Oh! You're not Leona...don't worry about what I was just about to say, okay?"

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

*flops down face down on mattress*

Ahdhskahsshskajsjakshdbxhsusa..

Idk man my brain is tired and overworked. Also say happy birthday to me, it's my birthday I've been working hard.

[elliespuns]

I was wondering, would you mind introducing yourself a bit? Your age, hobbies (except for blogging of coure), music taste, your favorite movies, etc? I love the content you post and i love you and I don't even know you. I wanna know my favorite blogger.. lol. Only if you're okay with it

First of all, thank you for such a lovely compliment. I love you too and I don't even see your blog, mate!

To answer you; I was answering something similar once. This anon sent me questions and I filled them in, so if you allow me to just copy and paste those so I wouldn't have to type it all again (nothing has changed since then, honestly) then I'll be happy to oblige.

How old are you? I'm 30

Tall or short? Very short, I'm only 5'1 ft, 1,56 m

Sexuality? Eh, I don't like labeling myself but if I HAD TO, it'd say bisexual/demisexual.

Describe yourself briefly I'm an introverted dork that doesn't vibe with most people. I dig music, art, and I love a lot. I either love too much or not at all. I've been vegan for over 10 years now and I love funny people. Other than that, I'm just a very poetic soul that also loves to play video games from time to time and I write. I write a lot.

Something you like about yourself? I'd say it's my knowledge in English. I've been self 'learning' it for 9 years now (never been abroad) and I was able to learn the language to the point where it became a huge part of my life. Like I literally use it more than my mother language. That's a thing I'd say I like about myself.

Favorite hobbies outside your blog? I write; creative writing, poetry. Both fulfil my mind. Then I love reading (ofc). I also draw, play video games, work with graphic programs and I love taking pictures.

Something no one would guess about you I have a very high sex drive, lmao 🫣😂 and people would never say so about me, because I literally look like I have a ribbon buckled to my vagina.

Weird quirks you have Oh, god, I can't stand hand cuts. Like you can literally show me a video of someone having their throat slit and I'll be fine, but then you show me a vid of someone having their palm sliced, or simply just someone cutting their finger and I'll go all asdfghjklsdfghjk.

One talent you wished you had Damn, I wish I could draw from imagination. I can draw but I can't seem to draw anything just by trying to see it in my head. That's so fucking frustrating. And weird. Anyone else having this problem?

A word your friends would use to describe you Idk about one word, but my best friend says I'm the funniest person she has ever met, so does that count? Lol, Idk why she says this. I'm literally a potato.

Craziest thing that's ever happened to you Omg, trauma alert… when my boss (a 70 year old male) caressed the top of my head telling me I'm pretty.

Have you ever been in love? Yes, for over 10 years now (no, it's not a fictional character, lol).

What is your biggest fear? Fuck, it's hurricanes and tornados. I actually have a phobia, it's called 'ancraophobia' and it's a fear of strong wind. (I swear I don't fear normal wind tho, I'm not that weird, actually, ok?).

Why did you start this blog? When I came here one day I realized that there were only a few blogs that were dedicated to the game stuff. So I said why the hell not? I didn't expect to have an actual fanbase here, it's crazy. Love you guys.

Your favorite food? Lentils, that's the shit.

Least favorite food? I'd say meat.

Favorite TV shows? Okay, not gonna mention TLOU cause it's obvious, but the very first show that pops into my mind every time is Breaking Bad. I love this show to bits. Then I also love TWD, OITNB, Better Call Saul, Wentworth, This Is Us, Lost, The Killing.

Favorite movie of all time? My most favorite movie of all time will forever be Ginger Snaps (2000). I've loved this movie ever since I was 11. It's been 19 years ever since and I still love it to pieces. Aaaaah!

Favorite musicians? I love a lot of music, but my most favorite is Damien Rice. I love that guy and what he does. Right behind him are Cigarettes After Sex and Mazzy Star (just pure love). Then it would be Joshua Radin, The Hope Arsenal, Yaeow, The Paper Kites, The Smiths, R.E.M., Blur, BoDeans...

Do you have any pets? My chonky boi guinea pig.

[alinalioness]

Professor Arnold's map 2 Chapter:Investigation.

The next morning, with the heroes.

Alina was sleeping peacefully in her room until she was woken up by Cristine.

Cristine:Alina, hurry up, wake up.

Alina:(She's sitting, but she's still sleepy) What happened?

Cristine:You have no idea, the box is missing and so are the inhabitants.

Alina:What?

Two girls in casual clothes immediately ran into the hallway, where the rest of the characters are anxiously looking for the box and the inhabitants, while the costumes of the representatives and Negabosses are sadly sitting in the living room.

Alina:Did they really disappear?

Emma:Yes, costumes and the Negabosses noticed that the inhabitants had not returned for a long time and were worried.

Leo:We searched everywhere, even in our cities.

When everyone came to the living room, the suits and Negabosses looked at them.

Tornado Wolf:Well how?

Balan:We didn't find anything.

Purrla:(Sad) It's terrible (Wormsworth put her hand on her back).

Alina:What about the box? Did Squidward look after it?

Squidward:I looked closely, but I heard a suspicious hiss. It's like snakes got in.

Heroes expect Squidward:(Scared) Snakes?

Alina:I hate snakes, they're poisonous... (Looked at Fluttershy) sorry Fluttershy, I didn't mean to.

Fluttershy:It's okay, I get mad at angry animals sometimes.

Tricky:So that's why you asked. Although you didn't know it, I'm afraid of snakes too.

Squidward:Yes. I just got the opinion today that the box was stolen by the Snake himself.

Carlin:It's not good.

Kuzko:It probably affected the treasure map.

Alina:All right, we're going to search immediately. But I suggest we start with the inhabitants, as they are our friends.

Balan:That's right.

Lilo:But we were looking for our places.

Marina:But what if we weren't looking for a place where we weren't?

Alina:Great, then.

Barktholomew:We'd rather stay. And how sad it is without them.

Lance:Whatever you want, but we'll call you later when we need help.

Tornado Wolf:So be it.

Tricky:Alina, do you mind if I go with you.

Sparkle:I think she won't bother you.

Alina:Well, all right. Then everyone go ahead and...

Heroes:Together, stronger, hurray!

The characters, except for the costumes and Negabosses, left the house and split up who went where.

Tricky:I can't imagine what kind of first day it is where we work separately.

Alina:Yes. (An idea came up) What if we take off and look down?

Tricky:Great! I've just learned how to carry something alive in a ball.

She used magic to get the pets inside the blue ball.

Alina:That's a good spell. (Sat down on Tricky) Well, now let's go!

Tricky:(The balloon with the pets took off after her) Let's go!

They immediately fly in search of the inhabitants. They were so carried away by the search and admiration of nature that they ended up in Krasnodar.

Alina:This is my first time flying on an alicorn.

Tricky:I've never seen such a beautiful forest.

Alina:I think we shouldn't get distracted, otherwise... (She noticed that they were in another place) We are already in another place.

Tricky:What?

They did not notice that they had collided with a tree. From this, it bent and threw the girls to another tree. The second one also bent and the girls flew into the abandoned house through the window and got into the girl's room. The room was covered in dust and cobwebs, and scattered things.

Alina:What a house.

Tricky:It's just abandoned. (She saw a dollhouse) What a cute dollhouse.

Alina:I also had a dollhouse, only in the form of a castle.

Tricky:Wow. (She saw a toy magic wand) What is it?

When she touched the toy, the things above it fell down. A frightened voice was heard from this.

Man's voice:(Scared) AAh! What was that?

Female's voice:No one could get in here.

An elderly man voice:Let's check it out.

Jelly hid the Redhead under her ear from fear, bending down.

Alina:But we have it... magic...

Tricky:Yes... (She heard footsteps as if there were 12 people) There are many of them...

When the door opened, the girls sat down and closed their eyes in fright.

Alina and Tricky:(Scared) AAH! Please!

Alina:Don't attack!

Tricky:Not that we ourselves.

The voice of an 18-year-old woman:What are you girls doing?

When Alina, Tricky and the pets opened their eyes, they saw the inhabitants.

Alina and Tricky:Inhabitants (They hugged the inhabitants with their pets).

Alina:We are so glad to see you.

Tricky:We empathized so much (With Alina and the pets, we let the inhabitants go from hugs).

Cal:We are glad to see you too.

Jose:We apologize for the disappearance, but the box was almost stolen by anaconda.

Alina and Tricky:(Scared) Anaconda?

Eis:Fortunately, we escaped and Mr. Gatteria found us.

Alina:Now it's clear where you've gone. But who is Mr. Gatteria?

Bruce:This is a former scientist who studied everything and even knew how to invent. He was fired when he lost the box instead of the former anaconda.

Tricky:And he has the box now.

Cal:Yes, and we decided to help him find out where her daughter is. At least they're looking for us. And as you guessed, we're in Arnold's abandoned house.

Tricky:Not happening.

Alina:Well, I told them... (She noticed that she didn't have a phone with her) damn, I didn't take the phone. We'll have to help you with Mr. Gatteria. Where do we start?

Sana:We looked at everything in this house and found this (Shows a painting of Arnold and her daughter Sofia).

Tricky:Beautiful.

But Alina noticed that in this picture, there is a cross painted on the window.

Alina:I think there should be a clue there.

The inhabitants looked at the painting and were surprised to see the cross.

Yuri:It's probably related to the past.

Tricky:So there's something on the street.

The characters at the beginning looked at the window and nodded to each other. Then they went outside and came to the place where the cross could point.

Alina:So, it's somewhere underground. I need a shovel. (Tricky with the help of magic, a shovel appeared) Thank you.

Alina starts digging while the others are looking at it.

Jose:The main thing is to be careful.

Alina:Ok. (She hit something with a shovel) Oh, I found something.

Tricky uses magic to lift the chest with Alina, who she was holding onto it.

Heroes:Chest.

Then Tricky put it on the ground and the heroes noticed a puzzle with 7 characters.

Alina:Is there some kind of puzzle here? We need a hint.

Tricky:Have you looked at anything other than before?

Cal:Nothing but the house. But they definitely didn't look in the barn.

Alina:So that's where we're going.

The heroes immediately headed for the barn. Alina was about to open the door, but Bruce stopped her with a gesture.

Bruce:I suggest we don't go in right away.

Alina nodded in response and quietly opened the door. There was one in the barn, too, but a little mess on the lockers.

Alina:Everything seems to be fine. (Things fell from the ceiling) Or it seemed.

When the heroes looked up, they were surprised to see a boat. But first Tricky magic cleaned up everything and the heroes entered inside the barn. Some were looking for a clue for the chest.

Cal:I think it's worth checking in the boat. But she works with a mechanism, and Triki is not strong enough to lift heavy things.

Haoyu noticed a locker on the wall. When he opened it, he saw that some of the mechanisms were broken.

Haoyu:Yeah, it needs fixing. But my tools are at home (Tricky with the help of magic, the necessary tools appeared).

Tricky:Here.

Haoyu:Thank you. (He starts to fix it and fixed it after 12 minutes) Done. Now, please step away from the boat that's hanging over you.

The others moved away from the hanging boat. Haoyu pressed the lever and the boat went down. There were rats on the boat that ran outside, causing the women except Alina and Tricky to scream in fear.

Yuri:Wow, I didn't know you weren't afraid of rats.

Alina:Yeah, that's weird. But just in case, let's check what's in the boat.

The heroes began to inspect the boat. When Tricky carefully climbed onto the boat, she accidentally opened the hatch and a twisted piece of paper appeared.

Tricky:I found something. (She magically took the paper and opened it, immediately surprised) This is for the puzzle.

She showed the drawings as in the puzzle.Yellow sun, white cloud, blue bird, green leaf, cyan droplet, pink flower and red ladybug. The others smiled at this.

Alina:This is what we need.

Cal:Then let's go back to the chest.

The heroes came out of the barn and came to the chest. Alina clicked on the symbols as in the picture and all the symbols turned green.

Tricky:I wonder what will happen there.

When Alina opened it, there was a film inside the chest.

Alina:Film inside? For what?

Bruce:Perhaps information can be stored there. We need to get back to the house.

The heroes enter the house for no reason and sit down while Haoyu inserted the film into the camera. When he turned it on, the screen appeared and sat down with his friends. The screen shows Arnold himself in a bunker where he studies the stones.

Arnold:(Looking at the camera) My dear daughter, your birthday is coming soon. Your present is almost ready, but it needs to be finished. I am currently in Africa, Kenya, studying rocks in a cave. (Everything starts to shake quietly) I'll be back in 5 days, if anything, write letters, I'll know that everything is with you-

The screen turned off and the characters were interested.

Tricky:That's when the earthquake happened.

Alina:I don't think it's a coincidence. He made a video or whatever so his daughter would know. After the terrible news, when Sofia looked, she put the film in the trunk and buried it.

Cal:It's clear, we need to go to Mr. Gatteria.

Bruce:If anything, we'll show you where to go.

Alina, the pets and Tricky follow the inhabitants who lead to the house to Mr. Gatteria himself. When Cal knocked on the door, an elderly male voice was heard.

An elderly male voice:Who's there?

Cal:It's us, the inhabitants and their friends who have come for you.

The door opened and Mr. Gatteria himself appeared. He wore a white scientist's coat, a blue scarf, dark red trousers and red glasses. He was already old, a little longer than Bruce. He was surprised to see Alina, pets and Tricky.

Mr. Gatteria:And really your friends. That pink lioness Alina?

Cal:Absolutely the same. She is also our 12 residents' best friend.

Mr. Gatteria:Well, then come in, everyone.

When the heroes entered, Alina, the pets and Tricky were surprised to see many interesting inventions.

Alina:I want to thank you so much for finding our friends. But why didn't you tell me?

Cal:We just decided to help, but of course he doubted it. After all, we do not have such experience.

Mr. Gatteria:Yes, I'm just a caring lizard.

Tricky:(She noticed Mr. Gatterius's third eye) Wow! I did not know that such lizards have an eye on the top of their heads.

Alina:Well, these are such gatterias.

Mr. Gatteria:Yes. (He drank tea) Well, tell me how are the finds?

Cal:We found the tape from the trunk that Sofia hid when she realized Arnold was dead. He kind of almost made his gift and the gift itself is now in Africa, Kenya.

Tricky:So we need to go there.

Mr. Gatteria:(He almost choked on his tea) Are you sure?

Alina:Don't worry, "Friendship of the whole world" is our company name, it will absolutely cope almost without panic. With our motto...

Heroes:Together, stronger, hurray!

Mr. Gatteria:I understand, it's simple... Because of the past, when I was young, I couldn't trust anyone but kind people to do such a thing. I'm worried about kind people like you.

Tricky:Don't worry, I have magic, although it won't help sometimes.

Alina:Rely on us. We promise that we will manage.

Mr. Gatteria:Okay... while I'm busy working on the flying machine... (Gives money to the heroes for the airport) you go to the airport and fly to Kenya.

Alina:And what time is takeoff?

Mr. Gatteria:At 15:30.

Cal:And now it's 2:12 p.m., we have time to make it.

Alina:We wish you good luck!

Mr. Gatteria:That's what I'm telling you.

The heroes left the house and headed for the airport.

Tricky:Wow, I can't imagine what this adventure is going to be like.

Alina:Me too. Only if it wasn't for passport checks.

Tricky:Maybe I'll try to do it?

Cal:Well, that's if you have to try.

To be continued..

[kentuckycaverats]

Pleabs may I have for Delphine: 👪FAMILY, 🍧SHAVED ICE, 🍃FALLING LEAF, and 🌪️TORNADO! I have seen glimpses of them... I desire more!!

YEAS tysm!!! delphine my beloved delphine

👪 FAMILY - what is their family like? what is your ocs relationship to them? does your oc have any siblings?

del is adopted! her parents are azumi and hikaru tsuga and she's a complete and total mama's girl. they call her "brilliant girl" and "my darling" and "my joy," and they love her unconditionally and are so proud of her always, and she would raze entire cities for them. they havent seen each other in 7 years--not since del fled the states after diablerizing her sire--but they're coming to edinburgh soon and del wants to introduce them to her new found family: the coterie and her girlfriend, tara.

she does still blame herself for the death of her current namesake, delphine tsuga; azumi and hikaru's birth daughter and our del's childhood best friend, who was murdered by del's sire the same night she was embraced. delphine tsuga meant the world to our del. they were best friends, sisters, soulmates, and for a long time del was completely consumed by the fury and grief of losing her. she's learning to live around it, but not a night goes by that del doesn't feel the ache of missing her.

🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

she fled the states abruptly the night of her embrace/diablerie, and didn't go home first to gather any of her things for fear of endangering her parents by association. she doesnt have anything with her in edinburgh: pictures, clothes, stuffed animals, mementos, nothing. but her parents have left her childhood bedroom untouched, so if she ever goes back...

🍃 FALLING LEAF - do they enjoy being in nature? what is their favourite outdoor activity?

in life she loved to be out in the sun surrounded by plants. her dad likes to garden and growing up she loved to help him while he explained everything he knew. she misses that terribly. her haven is filled with fake plants for some semblance of greenery but it just isn't the same.

🌪️ TORNADO - what is the biggest change you've ever made to them? how have they changed from their original version?

the initial del concept was much more cunning and manipulative and politically-minded. there was an early version of her who, rather than posing as brujah, was blackmailing a primogen into passing her off as their ghoul. that version of del was much more focused on trying to topple the camarilla from the inside. as she developed she became too openly anti-authoritarian and prone to emotional impulsivity for that to make sense for her, and instead became someone who was clearly not into the political bullshit and only "loyal" to the camarilla for the sake of its stability and resources. absolutely no one was surprised when she ""defected"" to the anarchs

[giftfromblythe]

In Memory of the Girl I Was

Once upon a time, I almost died,

for I was drowned in shadow;

in every silence was a tragic solace

that could not grant me peace,

and in every sound 

the ghosts of things best forgotten

burned my aching soul.

So I sought eternal rest

to forget a past that should never have been;

but sleep is a double-edged sword

and dreams are more than deadly.

On that day

I shattered,

a thousand thousand pieces

strewn across my dorm room floor;

in the aftermath,

I fit the shards into some semblance of sanity

and was left with glass dust 

where my innocence once could be found.

Kill the girl,

and the being I am arises

—does a phoenix feel its flesh

consumed by ravening fire

with every rebirth,

or is it just I?

I live by choice and by fear,

and so I poison myself nightly

in the hopes of staving off death just a little longer,

and I pray each time a pill passes my lips

that my mind will heal before my body fails.

When I was twenty, I almost killed myself.  I had barely left my bed in weeks, so nauseous from antidepressant side effects that I couldn’t keep anything solid down, and weak and shaky from only consuming protein shakes.  I slept during the day, skipping classes so I wouldn’t face the terrors of the dark unrested—and they were genuinely terrors, because they were PTSD flashbacks and hypervigiliance triggered by the similarity of the night to the darkness caused by the tornado-producing superstorm I’d survived two and a half years prior.  I had reached a point of such despair and misery, I felt as if I were backed into a corner with death being the only way out.  I very nearly followed through with that thought—I reached for my anti-anxiety meds, intending to overdose.

But in the next moment, I turned my entire life around.

I thought of my parents, who would be so horrified if I truly did die; I thought of my younger brother, who would be left with the grief, shock, and horror of knowing what I had done.  I even thought of how much I feared death—Hamlet’s line of “but in that sleep of death, what dreams may come must give us pause,” ran through my head.

So I reached for my phone instead, calling my mom.

I spent four days in a psychiatric ward, changing medications under the nurses’ supervision and improving so rapidly we knew the first antidepressant had been worsening my symptoms.  I spent a year at home, taking medical leave from college and taking two classes during the second half of the year to ease back into the workload.  I spent five years rediscovering who I am under the illness that has defined my life since I was a very small child.

It took nine years to recover, nine years of ups and downs, of relapse and recovery.  But I did it, and you can too.

I wrote this poem during the second year of that recovery, not long after learning that the new antidepressant was working well to keep my serotonin up but was putting strain on my liver.  It was meant as a reflection on everything I had gone through to reach that point—the agony and fear that led me to suicidal ideation, the moment I could have chosen to die but did not, the transformation that followed that choice, and the consequences of doing what I must to keep myself alive.  It wasn’t easy, but the wish I expressed at the end of the poem did come true: my mind did heal, and careful management of my health kept me on the path to recovery.  I’m currently off the medication, because I reached a point where it was no longer necessary and my doctors agreed I could wean myself off of it.  I may need to go back on it again at some point, but that’s no big deal.  I know I can recover again if I need to.

As always, thank you for reading.  I hope my story can give you a little hope that things will get better, and that you seek out the help you need when you need it.  Take care, listen well, and share your stories.

—Blythe

[life-observed]

Grand Diversifying Theory by Ran Prieur

In the Tower of Babel myth, humans become too proud and try to build a tower to heaven, and what stops them is they all start speaking different languages. The myth is a few thousand years old, but a few thousand years older still is the actual human behavior of becoming too proud and sticking ourselves into a social structure that seeks to dominate and destroy life on earth and crush autonomy under a rigid central order. As in the myth, we can stop this by diversifying, by breaking down our individual and collective single-mindedness.

Tightly ordered systems come apart in at least two ways, which are not just different but opposite. One way is that we all start fighting each other. This is both unpleasant and unsustainable, because the fight must have a winner, and then we're all standardized and controlled again under that winner. The other way is that we learn to love diversity, and the more we can love the more we can have.

This is not about "religion vs. science," because we are all religious and we are all scientific. That is, we all make fundamental assumptions that are not subject to proof or disproof, and we have all chosen specific ways of turning experience into mental models. That is my intentionally broad definition of a science: a style of filtering and arranging experience into mental models.

Any choice of such a style is loaded with values and motives. It's a dirty choice that must be made. I'm not suggesting that we avoid it, but that we notice it. I don't want us to destroy our religions and sciences, but to destroy their boundaries and learn to step outside them, to practice awareness of our assumptions and styles, so that we can become meta-religious, and multi-scientific.

Suppose I say that there are reports of living creatures found encased in rocks split open by miners. One was a toad that survived; another was a small pterodactyl-like creature that gasped a few breaths and died. Suppose I say that there are many reports, unknown to each other, of cities seen in the clouds, strange and fully detailed, or that there are tens of thousands of reports of strange lights in the sky.

I present no argument for the validity of these reports. My point is, when you read about them, what is your habitual reaction? Probably it's to think of explanations that protect your existing mental models: The toad was behind the rock, not inside it. The cloud cities are reflections from atmospheric temperature inversions. UFO's are the star Sirius, which twinkles in different colors when it's low in the sky. Rains of fishes were sucked up by a tornado over water, monster sightings are hallucinations, and so on. But we don't have to think this way.

When I read these reports, my reaction is "Cool! Where can I read more? How can I use this stuff to break out of my present reality and into new ones?" Imagine you're in a stone-walled structure and you hear a report of a crack in the wall. What do you do? If you feel you're besieged in a fortress, you will go try to seal it up. If you feel you're locked in a prison, you will go try to open it wider. If you feel you're a keeper of slaves, you'll go try to seal it up. These are emotional decisions, or political decisions.

What we call "science," I call one kind of science, one grounded in the emotion of fear, and the political need to maintain stability. To be fair, so was the science it replaced, medieval Christian theology. And that science was worse in that it was more resistant to direct sense experience overturning established mental models.

But in other ways, medieval Christian theology was not as bad. I call our present science Cartesian science, after one of its founders, Rene Descartes, who got the idea from a non-ordinary experience in which an "angel" told him that the way to conquer nature is through number and measure. This is no different from JHVH telling Moses that the way to conquer other religions is by prohibiting graven images: It's a suggestion, of esoteric origin, to arrange experience in a specific way to cause a specific deep change in human mental models and human behavior.

Our descendants will marvel, not that Descartes saw an angel, but that he was so twisted that he consciously wanted to conquer nature. And his idea worked: Cartesian science, by focusing strictly on the measurable and quantifiable, calls forth the enormous power of machines, while excluding emotions and values -- except the emotion of taking pleasure in turning things into numbers, and the value of wanting numbers to be better.

So if you "love" the forest, that's worth nothing compared to even one of the millions of board feet of lumber we can produce by cutting down that forest. And if I prefer a hand-driven tool to a motorized tool that applies 20 times as many angular foot-pounds per second, but I have trouble putting my preference into words, let alone into numbers, my sentiments are dismissed. And if you'd rather live in a world where people make things at home, by hand, at their own pace, than a world where factories full of numb micromanaged laborers crank out 100 times as many things, all identical and built to commanded written specifications, then you are romanticizing an impossible and inferior past -- if possibility and quality are defined in exclusively Cartesian terms. And if, after a few years of this, some people feel that the whole world is somehow terribly wrong, then they're being ungrateful and irrational, because the numbers just keep getting better.

The word "rational" is confusing. Sometimes it means careful precise thinking, and sometimes it means exclusively Cartesian thinking. The hidden message is that these two things are positively related, and they can be, but they don't have to be, and sometimes they are negatively related, as I'm showing here by using precise thinking to break down the Cartesian world view.

Fixation on number and measure is only the beginning. Cartesian science includes only experience that stays the same across place, time, culture, and perspective: If an experiment comes out differently in different places and times, or for different people, it is excluded; if an experience cannot be made uniform among observers, it is excluded. Cartesian science demands that experience be controllable and predictable, and that we, the experiencing perspectives, be perfectly interchangeable. So it focuses our attention in to the small part of our world where experience is controllable and predictable and uniform, and it builds technologies that create more such worlds, like a TV show that ten million people see all the same, instead of seeing their ten million varied lives.

Cartesian science is totalitarian: It commands that there be only one mental model, which all people must hold in their heads. It permits competing theories, but they are in a death match. They may not make peace and go on perpetually using different models. Sooner or later they must fight it out until there is only one theory, which everyone will then hold identically.

Cartesian science favors matter over mind. We're all so deep in this one that few of us have thought to question it. Even UFO enthusiasts, who like to think they're on the fringe, are always looking for "physical proof," because they take for granted the Cartesian doctrine that the material is worth more than the mental. This is related to the totalitarianism and uniformity: Mental experience, especially of something like the UFO phenomenon, varies widely, and cannot be produced at will in the laboratory or even in the field. But a physical artifact will stay the same through place, time, and culture. Every human being who looks at it and touches it will see and feel the same thing. So it is literally a blunt object to force everyone in the world to see it your way, to make your mental model the god-emperor.

Finally, Cartesian science is conservative, although, to its credit, it is less conservative than the sciences that came before it, just as it is more conservative than the sciences that might follow it. Conservative scientists feel disturbed by anomalies and fringe theories, because they have an emotional aversion to leaving multiple paths open, and a stark horror of permitting a non-dominant path to proceed and diverge. They love the feeling of closure, of a sealed-off world where everything is perfectly understood. The arch-exclusionist Carl Sagan expressed this attitude with the dictum that "extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence," a deceptive phrase because it slips between two meanings of "extraordinary": What he is saying is that claims that are not politically established require a greater quantity of evidence. It's like having an election where every vote for the incumbent counts twice.

All these customs are arbitrary, but not accidental. That is, they could all easily go other ways, but they go the way they do because of effects on human society that serve some deeper motivation. And the most obvious effect has been to turn us into a bunch of machine-like servants of an earth-paving beast.

But it's not over yet, and as they say, never show a fool a thing half-finished. Maybe we needed Cartesian science to break us out of sky father worship, and maybe we will continue to need it for that purpose in the more backward parts of civilization. And in the places where it has been most dominant, the desire to move beyond it has been strongest, so maybe it's not a trap but a painful step in the human journey. Even when we transcend it, I don't want to eliminate it. It's given us some wonderful things, like computer games and fuzz guitar and glow-in-the-dark stuff. And it's only beginning to play with creating new animals, and taking us to new states of consciousness. Maybe in the future it will drive an underground subculture of dangerous machines. We need a bit of the dark side. Let's keep it around.

But beside it, and beyond it, we can make a thousand other paths. So one feature of Cartesian science, its totalitarianism, I utterly reject. In our new meta-science, the first custom will be: multiple contradictory sciences all going at once, all at least tolerating each other and if possible collaborating. I'll get to the second custom at the end.

So if we have sciences that focus on the quantifiable, we can have others that exclude the quantifiable. We can have one that explores the subtlety of emotion the way physicists now explore the atom, so in addition to naming invisible particles, we will have many words for different kinds of wistfulness, or happiness, or consciousness.

If we have conservative sciences, we can have many more that are thirsting for newness, so that an established theory requires more evidence and a strange new theory requires less. And where we now feel the need for only one theory, we will feel the need for many. So in cosmology we can have not only the big bang theory and a few dynamic steady state theories, but the theory that stars are projections on a big shell, and the theory that the earth is flat and when you seem to circumnavigate it you are traveling on an infinite tiled surface of slightly different alternate earths, and the theory that what we see through telescopes is mostly determined by our beliefs. And all these theories will mingle happily, even within the same person, with no thought that they should "resolve" their differences any more than we now think the whole world should watch only one TV show.

We can have sciences that focus on the rarest and most variable mental experience, and reject physical "evidence" because of its homogenizing effect. If bigfoot hunters bring back a dead creature, we lose interest -- it's just another vulgar matter-animal. But as long as the phenomenon leaves only sightings and ambiguous footprints, it's fascinating! Where does this experience come from? Where does it lead? We don't lose interest but gain interest when we find out that lake creatures just like the Loch Ness monster have been sighted in bodies of water only a few feet deep: This is not just a surviving plesiosaur -- this is something good.

Telepathy, precognition, psychedelic trips, abduction experiences, astral projection, fairies -- bring them on! And if they can ever be controlled in the laboratory, or completely explained, we'll throw them in the dustbin to be scavenged by the matterheads. We will no longer seek to know our world like we know a fact, but to know it like we know a person, not to explain phenomena but to have relationships with them.

But if we have all these different visions, won't all but one of them be wrong, because there is only one true world, independent of our awareness, which our models seek to match ever more closely? That assumption is allied to totalitarian metaphysics, and I reject it. And secretly, so do the metaphysical totalitarians -- the self-declared "skeptics" who apply their skepticism only to non-dominant theories. If they really believed their models were being drawn by an unalterable end point, they would be confident that the false theories would come to nothing, and ignore them. Their powerful desire to attack competing belief systems proves their secret fear that beliefs create reality.

Now it starts to get tricky. What is this reality and how can beliefs create it? To go any further, I think we need to drop our concepts of "real" and "delusion" and "objective" and "subjective," to cast off that whole style of thinking and try putting everything in terms of experience and mental models. So if you see purple and I see blue, we no longer worry about what color it "is." You see purple and I see blue, and there you have it! You see the little gray gnomes and I don't. What a wonderful world!

When we talk about "real" we are confusing several different things. One of them, the will to feel the comfort of absolute, universal, closed mental models, is a mistake. But other meanings of "real" still need to be talked about, only more precisely.

One of them is potential experience, like what we will find inside the box if we open it, or especially what we will find outside the box. If I say that this world is an illusion, and in the real world we're in vats with computer cables feeding this vision to our brains, what I mean is that we have the potential experience of shifting our perspectives to a world that contains and fully explains this one.

Overlapping this is the idea of an experiential dead end. If I go see The Matrix, and I say it's a movie and not real, I mean that it is contained and fully explained by this world, but I also mean that I can come out of it only by the way I went in. I can't go see The Matrix in 2003 and come out of a different screening on Mars in 2035. Or if I'm playing a computer game, I can't break away permanently into a physical universe just like that game. The only experience available to me is what's programmed into the game, and to come to my senses sitting in a chair staring at a monitor.

So a stronger meaning of "real" is necessary experience: If we say this world is illusion and another world is real, we could mean that we have to pass through that world to get anywhere, that everything else is a dead end. (Not that dead ends are wrong. They can be fun and even valuable, like going into a cave to bring back a treasure, or like a book that leads you to transform or transcend the world that contains it.)

But why is certain experience necessary? Who decides? This leads to a more profound and difficult meaning of "real": shared. The subject of other beings and other perspectives is too deep for this essay, but it's right in my path, so I'm going to go down into it a little ways and try to pick my way across it.

You could believe that you alone are aware, and imagining the entire universe. But instead you choose to believe that others are aware in the same way you are, and are sharing roughly the same experience. We all need to share our experience with others. We can each have a good time veering off alone into our personal dream worlds, but sooner or later we must rejoin others, and we often choose a terrible shared world over a pleasant world that we experience alone.

But who are these "others"? They are not just other humans beside us. They are also inside us and around us. Your awareness of reading this essay is only a small part of your wider awareness of yourself as a human, with your name, living your life. Move your attention to your body... and now to your financial balance... and now back to intellectual awareness of these ideas: You have moved between different beings, or different aspects of a larger being. You're acknowledging this multiple self when you talk about what "a part of me wants" or "being nice to myself." And if you can forget a broader self in a narrower self, it's a good bet that the larger "you" is itself a small part of a still larger being of which "you" are scarcely aware.

This is important because of my core assumption that awareness is fundamental, that matter and space and time are epiphenomena of mind. It follows that mind can do anything it wants. The way I see it, which is hinted at by advanced physics, transcendent experience, and persistent investigation of the unexplained, is that a practically infinite variety of experience and modes of awareness are already there, always available; and our brains, our languages, our sciences, are merely filters, "creating" one reality by excluding all others.

But why create reality at all? If exclusiveness is bad, then let's take the filters off and merge with the infinite everything -- beyond identity, beyond perspective, beyond time!

I respect this position, but mine is more conservative. I'm looking for a mode of being much more rigid and narrow than dissolving in the universal, but much more slippery and trippy than just being more open-minded humans, and I think we can do it. I think we're already on our way. The New Age people are on the right track with their saying "You create your own reality," but they're using three confusing words: you, your, and own. Because "you" are merged with countless other you's, we have to agree on our reality, to the extent that we want to stay together.

This is why so many varieties of experience seem to actively, intelligently evade proof, because we are intelligent and only some of us have agreed to enter the worlds of these experiences. And an early step toward deeper diversity is to respectfully permit others to experience realities that you choose not to experience. You don't say their worlds are not real, and they don't try to force you to see what they see. Alternate-world peace!

But if we want to stay together, wouldn't this diversification of reality break us apart? Not necessarily. As I said at the beginning, there are at least two ways to diversify, or to reconcile our needs for complexity and change with our need to share experience; and they both begin with diverging paths of reality-filtering.

In one way, the person serves the path, and we each focus in to one view, and share experience only with others who see it exactly the same way. Factions of believers forget their wider selves, and see the survival and dominance of their one model as the meaning of life. Then all the models fight it out and destroy or consume each other until there is only one. Then this one will be broken by the need for complexity and change, and if it's broken in the same way, the awful cycle repeats.

In the other way, the many paths serve the person. So that's the second custom of our new meta-science: We each become a broader consciousness that can balance many models, or pass in and out of many worlds previously seen as absolute. As they say, if a fish described its environment, the last thing it would say would be water; but we can be like a water creature who becomes aware of water and not-water, and learns to move in land and air. Or we can be like an obsessed game-player who suddenly remembers the world outside the game, or like a prisoner in a one-windowed cell who breaks out into a mansion with many windows, or like someone in a dark room with a radio, who thought one station was the whole universe, but now learns to twist the dial.

[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

<< Beginning < Prev. || AO3

Chapter 31: January 2010

Gerard slips into the room, closing the door as quietly as he can behind him, and gives his eyes a second to adjust. It’s dark, not necessarily by design, but it is well after sundown and the curtains are tightly closed. The green glow of the luminescent hands of the alarm clock on the nightstand gives texture to some of the shadows around it, but little more than that.

“Hey,” he says, keeping his voice as low as possible. “How is he?”

“Sleeping. I think.” Melanie’s voice is barely above a whisper. She sits at the side of the bed, both hands wrapped loosely around one of Martin’s. “He’s not fighting things that aren’t—that I can’t see, anyway.”

Gerard comes closer and sits beside Melanie. As usual, he’s struck by the difference between this room and his own, or Melanie’s. Gerard’s room, one of the few spaces in his life he’s always had control over, can be most charitably described as organized chaos, his clothing spilling out of boxes rather than bothering to put it away and the carpet and wall behind and beneath his easel splattered with long-dried paint, all the furniture and woodwork painted or stained as dark as he could get it and a haphazard collection of tapes and CDs littering the area around his stereo. Melanie’s, especially these days, frequently looks like a small localized tornado has swept through, and her walls are so covered with band posters and pictures cut out of magazines and photographs of the three of them that you can’t see the original wallpaper, but the furniture is the same white gilt-edged furniture she inherited from her late mother that she’s used her whole life.

By contrast, Martin’s room is neat as a pin, all his belongings carefully tucked away out of sight, the walls perfectly blank and painted in clean, light colors. The furniture is cheap but serviceable, although the bed is of surprisingly good quality and size (or would be if Gerard didn’t know it used to be Roger and Lily’s), and everything is laid out very precisely and logically. There’s no decoration, no personalization, no expression of individuality.

Gerard knows that at least part of that is because Martin always had trouble focusing on his homework as a kid if there was literally anything to distract him, but damn, he’s a grown adult with a job now. Surely he can let himself have something. On the other hand, part of it is also that he’s ever so slightly paranoid about losing things the second they’re out of his line of sight and thus minimizes the clutter and places for things to hide as much as possible, and Gerard isn’t sure how to alleviate that. Especially not since there’s a good reason for him to fear it.

He reaches out and gently lays the back of his hand against Martin’s forehead. “Jesus. He’s still burning up.”

“Maybe we should take him back to the A&E.” Melanie’s voice wavers uncertainly. “That doctor said he’d be fine with a bit of rest, but…it’s been three days.”

Gerard worries at his lower lip for a moment. He’s never going to forgive himself for this.

He’s been touring the continent for the last few months, mostly in the south, trying to get away from…everything. Chasing he doesn’t know what. Freedom? Change? He never planned to be gone forever, just long enough for things to settle a bit. His thought was to take a year, learn a few things, and then come home in time for Martin’s birthday in August. It was when he’d called to find out if Melanie had got the Christmas present he’d posted from Athens that he changed his plans.

It’s been an unusually cold, wet winter, and while Martin never complains, and wouldn’t have said a word even if either of them had been in town, Gerard likes to think he would have at least bought his brother a decent pair of boots. Instead he’s been walking around in shoes that aren’t waterproof with the soles nearly worn through, without a warm enough coat, and the car finally gave up the ghost three weeks before Gerard left the country. No wonder he’s sick now.

Bronchitis. Not as bad as it could be, but bad enough, and Martin let it go untreated too long, according to Melanie. Unsurprising, since he’s been alone for the last few weeks, between Gerard being thousands of miles away on holiday and Melanie trying to get that ghost-hunting show off the ground, and also because it’s Martin, who will run himself into the ground to take care of the people around him but would rather chew off his own arms than admit he needs it too.

Gerard is just thankful Melanie made it home from her filming a couple days before Martin collapsed while trying to re-shelf some books. And that he called her when he did instead of a few days earlier, because if he’d moved on to another country, she wouldn’t have been able to let him know what’s going on.

“They discharged him, though, right?” he asks. “I mean, he was at the A&E and they said he was good to go home?”

“Honestly, I think they were overfull and didn’t consider him a priority,” Melanie grumbles. “But he was awake…sort of…and we got an official discharge with a prescription, but the second I got him home…” She nods at the bed.

Gerard swears softly under his breath. “I’m rubbish at this.”

“Me, too. I thought I could do this because Martin always did it for me—and for Dad and Lily—and I thought I’d learned from watching him, but…” Melanie won’t meet Gerard’s eyes. “Martin never let it get this bad when it was us.”

“We weren’t here.” It’s a weak excuse and Gerard knows it. Even if he’d been in London, the likelihood he would have noticed anything until it was too late is slim to none. Since the incident with that early edition of Stand Still Like the Hummingbird a few years back, he’s become adept at spotting when Martin’s mental health is starting to fray, but hell, Gerard can barely tell when he’s starting to actually get sick with something serious, let alone when Martin “it’s supposed to do that” Blackwood is. Besides, Martin isn’t the sort to give in to illness. Partly it’s the same situation as Gerard and the migraines he’s finally outgrown—that his being sick was never taken seriously growing up, that he was expected to suck it up and deal—but partly it’s that he focuses so hard on taking care of others that he won’t let himself be sick. For him to be like this…

Gerard hears an odd sound, only obvious because of how quiet the room is—a faint rustling, a riffling of cardboard—coming from Melanie’s direction and frowns at her. “Neens? What are you doing?”

Melanie stills, her head still bowed, looking at whatever is in her hands. “I won’t lose him.”

“Melanie.” Gerard’s stomach lurches as he realizes what she’s holding. He reaches over and covers it with his hands. “Do you actually think you can cheat Death?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, yes, you can, but—Melanie, you know you won’t like the consequences.”

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.” Melanie’s voice is nearly inaudible. “To be trapped by one of Them forever, if it means you and Martin are okay…I’d put up with a lot for that.”

Gerard gently cups Melanie’s chin and turns her head in his direction, forcing her to look at him. “He will never forgive himself if you bind yourself to one of the Fourteen for him. Ever.”

Melanie’s eyes brim with tears, and she pushes his hand away roughly, but she does put the deck of cards in the drawer of the nightstand. “I fucking hate you.”

“So what else is new?”

They sit in silence for several more minutes, listening to Martin’s raspy, labored breathing. Finally, Gerard breaks it, just because he can’t stand the sound. “Bets on whether we’ll be able to get him to stay in bed once he wakes up?”

“He’s going to stay in this bed until he’s well if I have to tie him to it and sit on him,” Melanie says fiercely. “If he gets up he’ll just get sick again. I mean it, Gerry, I am not losing him. Not him or you. Not to something like this.”

“It’s not the way I’d want to go out,” Gerard agrees. Not that he thinks he’ll have the luxury of dying of old age, not with the life they lead, but getting taken out by something preventable like a virus just feels anticlimactic and unfair. He’s sure he’ll end up dying at the hands of one of the Fourteen, probably in agony. He just hopes it’s not in front of Melanie or Martin.

Melanie lifts her hand and begins brushing Martin’s hair back from his forehead in soft, rhythmic strokes. After a moment, she begins humming, then singing softly. Gerard recognizes it as the old seamen’s hymn, the one Martin sings sometimes when he feels sad or lonely. When he feels the fog closing in, as he puts it. Gerard joins in as soon as he remembers where the words are going, trying to keep his voice as low as possible.

The tattoos on his joints give a dull, pulsing throb, and Gerard realizes they aren’t just singing for no reason, even if Melanie thought they were when she started. Something is trying to get at them, probably the Lonely, and the song is helping to push it back. Maybe.

Martin’s breath hitches, then evens out. Slowly, almost painfully, his lashes flutter open, and he squints up into the darkness. “Melanie?” he croaks. His eyes widen suddenly, and he tries to lift a hand to her face. “Melanie, your—eyes—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Melanie says gently. She grabs at something on the bedside table—Gerard is about to reprimand her for going for the cards—then comes back with Martin’s glasses and slides them onto his face before leaning over to kiss his forehead. “There. Better?”

Martin blinks slowly once, twice, then nods. “Yeah,” he says, sounding uncertain and disorientated. “What…time is it?”

“Half-two,” Gerard says with a quick glance at the alarm clock. “In the morning, not in the afternoon.”

“Gerry…?” Martin tries to sit up. Both Melanie and Gerard make noises of concern and try to stop him. “What…are you doing…here?”

“I came back when Melanie told me you were sick.” Gerard concedes the inevitable and gets up to help Martin into a reclining position, leaning against the headboard and propped against his pillows so he can—hopefully—breathe. “What, did you think I’d just say ‘oh, well, that sucks’ and keep traipsing across the continent?”

“I mean…yes?” Martin blinks at him, evidently confused. “I’m not sick?”

“You are,” Melanie says, her voice wavering between exasperation and worry. “The doctor at the A&E said it was bronchitis.”

Martin turns his confusion on Melanie. “When was I at the A&E?”

“Three days ago. You fainted at work and they called an ambulance for you.”

Martin coughs, a wheezing, rattling thing that sends a spike of anxiety up Gerard’s spine, and Melanie hands him a glass of water that she’s evidently had waiting for him. “Okay. Maybe I am sick.” He takes a sip of water, then looks up at Gerard, guilt written all over his face. “I’m sorry you cut your holiday short.”

“I’m not. Traveling alone was starting to get old anyway.” Gerard sits on the edge of Martin’s bed and pats his leg under the blanket. “And since I’m here, I can help Melanie force you to stay in bed until you’re actually over this.”

Martin opens his mouth to protest, but Melanie forestalls him. “Shut up. You’re not putting me through this again. If you try to get up too soon, you’ll just get sick again, and next time it might turn into pneumonia. You are going to stay in this bed until your fever’s been down for at least twenty-four hours without medication and I’m satisfied you’re back to normal.”

Gerard can’t help but smile a little. “Dr. King has spoken.”

“You can shut up, too.”

Martin sighs. “If I went to the A&E from the Institute, I’ll have to have a doctor’s note to go back to work anyway. Good job I’ve got plenty of sick time, I guess.”

“Have you taken a sick day since you started?” Gerard asks.

“No, not really. A personal day here and there, but nothing like this.”

Melanie hesitates. “There was a text a couple days ago—I didn’t recognize the number and it’s not saved in your phone, but whoever it was told you that you had plenty of time built up, and not to come back until you were ‘properly well’ because ‘the Library needs you at your best’. So I think you’ll be okay.”

“That’s…not as comforting as you might think.” Martin lets his head bang gently against the wall and closes his eyes for a moment. “All right. You win. I’ll be good.” He yawns, then breaks off into a coughing fit. “Ugh. I think I’m going back to sleep for a bit. Um, I’ve still only got the sofa, but—“

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not leaving you.” Melanie scoots the chair closer to make her point.

Gerard nods in agreement. “Get some sleep, both of you. I’ll be here.”

It’s a sign of how sick Martin is that he complies immediately, letting his eyes drift shut and his shoulders relax. It’s also a sign of how little sleep Melanie’s had in the last three days that she folds her arms on the side of Martin’s bed, rests her head on them, and falls asleep barely a heartbeat later. Gerard slips out to the living room long enough to grab the knitted throw Martin made when he was twelve, then tosses it over Melanie’s shoulders before settling onto the end of the bed cross-legged to watch them.

He doesn’t regret coming back. Not in the slightest. The trip’s been good for him, but he’s glad to be home, even under the circumstances. And when Martin is better, he’ll be gladder still. For now, he sets himself to keeping an eye on his brother and sister. He doesn’t doubt for a minute that Melanie’s been wearing herself to a thread with fretting, and she needs looking after as much as Martin does, in a way.

That’s his job. He may not be as good at it as Martin—nobody is, really—but he’s still the big brother, and he still feels a need to look after them. He probably always will.

After all, he loves them, and love is worth the work put into it.