#i mean normal i guess but weird to like be awake in the actual OR room

[morganski-19]

The One with Sleeping

Steve wakes up with someone’s arm wrapped around his stomach. Which is odd considering he didn’t have anyone over last night. And he’s on his couch with beer bottles on the coffee table and what looks like two crushed ends of a joint in the ash tray.

But he’s too groggy to figure it all out, and it’s probably just Robin anyway, so he leans his head back down and starts to fall back asleep. Until the other person stirs and sits up rapidly, causing him to fall off of his couch.

“What the fuck,” he grunts, slowly getting up from the ground. At least he’s awake now. “Why did you throw me off the couch Rob-.” Steve stops as he sees who’s on the couch. “You’re not Robin.”

Jonathan stares at Steve with a mix of concern and fear. “No, I’m not.”

“Why were you sleeping on my couch?”

“Why were we cuddling?” Jonathan asks, acting as if it was the more pressing question of the two.

Steve collects himself off the ground. “I don’t know. I tend to sleep cuddle people.”

“You sleep cuddle people. That’s a thing?” Jonathan sits up, running a hand through his tangled hair.

“Yeah. Ask Robin, she has a lot of stories about it.” Steve fixes his shirt, it having twisted weird when he fell off the couch. “Thanks for throwing me off the couch by the way.”

Jonathan makes a sheepish face. “Sorry. You scared me when I woke up.”

Steve sits down next to him. “It’s fine. So, why were you sleeping on my couch.”

“I don’t know,” Jonathan scratches at his chin. “I remember coming over last night for some drinks, and then we got high. We must have just dozed off.”

“Together, on the couch,” Steve reasons.

“You don’t think we, you know. Did anything, right?” Jonathan asks cautiously.

Steve laughs. “No, no we’re good. Even cross faded me knows not to flirt with my friends.”

“Does sober you know not to do that?” Jonathan deadpans. Having witnessed Steve play flirt with Eddie multiple times.

Steve clears his throat, avoiding answering that. “The point is, I wouldn’t have tried anything. Not with you, so we probably just fell asleep and somehow ended up in this position.”

“What do you mean not with me?”

“Oh my god,” Steve rolls his eyes. “Now you’re offended? You don’t even like me like that.”

Jonathan scoffs. “And neither do you.”

“Exactly, which is why I wouldn’t have tried anything.”

“But if it was Eddie, would you have tried something.”

“I’m not answering that.” Steve gets up to clear away the old bottles, carrying them over to the recycling can. “If it was Argyle, would you have?” he finally counters.

Jonathan’s face breaks out in a flush that he tries to hide with a cough. “Can we agree not to mention this is anyone?” he changes the subject. “Say I just stayed over and slept on your couch, alone.”

Steve shrugs. “I guess. What, you ashamed that we cuddled on my couch or something?” Jonathan looks away. “Oh my god, you are. How fucking dare you?”

“What do you mean? This isn’t exactly normal for the two of us.” Jonathan stands.

“Sure. But you wanting to hide it means you’re ashamed. Are you ashamed that you slept with me.”

Jonathan gives him a blank expression. “Please don’t call it that.”

“I am calling it that, because it was true. The two of us, slept on the same couch, together, also while cuddling a little bit. It happens, it was an accident. We use it as a funny story and move on.”

“Or we don’t mention it at all.”

Steve crosses his arms. “Alright, under one condition. You admit that was the best sleep you’ve gotten in a while.”

Jonathan huffs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. Chronic insomniac Jonathan, falling asleep for what looks to be about, oh I don’t know,” Steve looks at the clock on the oven. “Six or so hours, undisturbed. That had to have been a good night’s sleep.”

Jonathan scrunches up his face before giving in. “Fine, ok.”

Steve laughs in victory.

“It was the best night I’ve gotten in a while, you’re right.”

“For me too, actually.”

“Wait. Wasn’t Robin here last night?” Jonathan remembers.

Steve’s eyes widen. “Yeah, she was. Where is she?” He lightly taps on her door before opening it, finding an empty, unmade bed. “Shit, she’s gone.”

“So, she saw us,” Jonathan accepts defeat. “Great. Where do we think she is?”

There is suddenly a loud burst of laughter from across the hall. “Oh no,” Steve groans.

“We’re never going to live this down, are we?” Jonathan asks with a wince.

“Nope,” Steve says defeated. “We go in together?” He turns to Jonathan.

Jonathan nods. “Only way to do it at this point.”

Steve heads across the hall to Nancy and Eddie’s apartment. He nods at Jonathan before opening the door to ruckus laughter.

“There are the sleepy heads,” Robin teases on the couch. Waving her phone in the air. “Hope we didn’t wake you up,” she fake pouts.

Eddie comes out of his room with a picture in his hand, holding it close to his chest when he realized Steve and Jonathan are there. “Oh, hey guys,” he says with a knowing smile.

Nancy starts laughing. “How’d you guys sleep?” she asks innocently.

Argyle sits on the armchair with crossed arms. “Terribly, I hope.”

“I thought this would happen,” Jonathan whispers while pinching the bridge of his nose. “We slept as good as two people sharing a couch do.”

“You admitted it so fast,” Robin barks. Cackling.

“You all already know,” Steve defends. “Also, what the hell is in your hands?”

Eddie tries to cover the picture with his hands. “Nothing.”

Steve walks toward Eddie. “So, I can see it then?”

Eddie runs to the other side of the room, Steve chasing after him. They do a whole back and forth at the kitchen table, Eddie almost running into the counter when he gets away. Steve fails to catch up with him as Eddie does another lap.

Jonathan moves out of the way before he gets run into, walking over to a still upset Argyle. “It really wasn’t that great,” he lies.

“Don’t lie to me,” Argyle says, avoiding Jonathan’s gaze.

Eddie runs into his bedroom, unable to lock the door before Steve gets it open, following him in. There’s a crash, causing Nancy to perk up with concern. But when yelling and sounds of wrestling continue, she sits back on the couch, sipping her coffee.

“Fine, it was the best sleep I’ve had for a few weeks. But it doesn’t mean anything, it was an accident I promise.”

“Are you weirded out by this,” Robin whispers to Nancy.

She just shrugs. “Not really.”

“It was really an accident?” Argyle asks.

“Yes, I really didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

Argyle finally looks at him, his face softening. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

“No,” Eddie yells from the bedroom. “Don’t rip it.” Followed by a “Ha, got it,” from Steve. He walks out victoriously with the picture.

“Neither of you are bleeding, right?” Nancy confirms, not really caring anymore. Steve shakes his head.

Eddie comes out of the room, leaning on his doorway, panting. “Please don’t tear it up. It was my last piece of picture paper.”

“Out of all of us, why is it you that has a printer?” Robin asks. Eddie just shrugs.

“What is it?” Jonathan asks, wincing.

Steve walks over to show him. “What you think. Why did you print it out anyway?”

“To put on the wall of many shames,” Eddie says, pointing to the wall covered in pictures of the group scattered along the back wall. Some with pictures drawn on their faces and other various situations they’ve gotten themselves into.

Steve looks at Jonathan, who just shrugs. With a roll of his eyes, Steve walks over and tapes it to the wall.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @mentallyundone, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord

[chapel-of-rizztual]

Could you maybe do nipple sucking with Cumulus and the rest of the ghouls (Rainy and Swiss) please? It’s so comforting for me!

Cw: nipple sucking, non sexual intimacy, nightmare mention.

Cumulus wakes up to the bed moving and the bed covers she’d been cocooned in lifted letting in a draft. Normally she wouldn’t be so confused, she’d just assume it was Cirrus making her way to bed but she could feel the ghoulette still pressed up against her back, exactly where she had been when they both fell asleep.

She makes a sound, somewhere between a questioning hum and a squeak of confusion as the mystery body climbs under the covers and cuddles into her naked body.

“Sorry.” The silky smooth voice that she recognises as Swiss whispers into the darkness. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

She wraps her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to her. He lets out a chuff as he lets himself be moved, giving the middle of her chest and affectionate bump with his forehead.

“You don’t have to apologise, darling. You’re always welcome here.”

Swiss lets out another chuff as he tangles his legs with hers, rubbing his face in the valley of her breasts. She giggles as his beard tickles her chest. She scratches under his chin making him tilt his head back and a rumbly purr vibrate through his chest.

“I had a weird dream.” He whispers as he purrs. “I had to make sure you were still here.”

Cumulus tightens her arms around his shoulders, winding then unwinding one of his dread locks around her finger repeatedly. “A weird dream? What about, baby?”

Swiss lets out a pained hum, scooting even closer to her so there’s space between the two of them.

“You went missing in the forest. Nobody could find you, not even Mountain.” He rubs his cheek against her chest. “I woke up before anyone found you. So I had to make sure you were actually still here.”

“Im still here, baby. I have no plans on going anywhere.” She caresses his cheek, running her thumb along his cheekbone.

Swiss leans into her touch, rubbing his cheek on her thumb in return. “You promise? I don’t know what I’d do without you, mama.”

“I promise, baby. I need you just as much as you need me.” She hums, kissing the top of his head.

Swiss chirps, satisfied with her answer, and buries his face deeper into her chest. “Can I sleep here tonight?” He whispers, Like he’s scared she’ll say no and kick him out.

“Of course, honey! Like I said before, you’re always welcome here.”

“I don’t want to wake Cirrus up, that’s all.” Swiss sounds uncharacteristically shy when he says that.

“Oh please, don’t worry about her. If they made sleeping an Olympic sport she’d win gold.” Cumulus giggles to herself. “And then she’d sleep through the award ceremony.”

Swiss snorts a laugh.

“At least she doesn’t snore like Dew does. Who knew someone that small could make that much noise.”

“He just has to always be annoying, even when he’s asleep.” Cumulus giggles.

Swiss goes to say something else but he gets cut off by a yawn. He stretches as he yawns, trying not to dig his claws into her hip.

“Oh big yawn.” Cumulus coos at him. “Are you sleepy, darling?”

Swiss hums.

“Yeah, it’s late now. Or early, I guess.”

“You wanna go back to sleep, honey? Think you’ll be okay to do that?” Cumulus scratches at his scalp with her claws, pulling a deeper purr from him.

Swiss doesn’t reply, just nods and lets himself relax into her touch, waiting to drift off to sleep. Cumulus stays awake for a few more minutes, until she’s sure that Swiss is asleep with no signs of more weird dreams.

She’s just letting herself begin to drift off, letting sleep cloud her mind and drag her off into unconsciousness, when a warm and wet sensation suddenly surrounds her nipple pulling her back from the brink of sleep.

She makes a strangled sound, jolting back making the sensation suddenly disappear.

“Sorry- I’m sorry.” Swiss looks up at her with a very guilty look on his face. “Sorry, it’s just that I-“

“Shh, it’s okay.” Cumulus cuts him off. “I just wasn’t expecting it. You made me jump, that’s all.”

Swiss still looks guilty.

“I-I should have asked, I’m sorry, I just- it’s just-“

“It’s okay, i promise.” She curs him off again. “You never have to ask, not for that. You know I’ll never say no.”

She guides his head back down so he can latch back into her and begging sucking at her nipple once again. He lets out a deep sigh as he begins to suckle gently, his hand that’s resting on her hip starts to knead at the flesh on instinct. Cumulus hums, scratching at Swiss’ scalp again making him thrill and suck a little harder, his eyes slipping closed.

She can’t help letting herself enjoy this as she looks down at Swiss, watching his cheeks hollow slightly as he sucks, letting out little contented hums and sighs alongside little sucking sounds. It’s rare for Swiss to ask for this. Normally Swiss’ comfort looks like a joint and kneeling for Mountain, letting him take control over him. He’s only ever come to her a handful of times, so Cumulus treasures every time he does.

He lets out a long sigh, letting a puff of air out against her breast making her jump slightly. She strokes her thumb along his cheek, up to his eyebrow and smooths out the stray hairs that are sticking up. Swiss hums again, his eyes fluttering open for a brief second before they close again and he nuzzles even deeper into her, sucking a little harder.

Cumulus strokes his face for a few more seconds , just making sure he’s actually asleep this time. Once she’s satisfied that he is, she wiggles a little to get more comfortable, pulling the covers around her a little tighter. Behind her Cirrus groans, her arm around her waist tightening in a slightly possessive manner, like she’s scared Cumulus will leave her even in her sleep. But as Cumulus suspected, she stays asleep. Her ability to sleep through anything is one Cumulus has always envied.

Once she’s fully settled, she cradles Swiss’ head against her and rubs her thumb along the nape of his neck. A purr begins to vibrate through her chest matching Swiss’ very rumbly and breathy purr, broken up between his sucking. She thrills sleepily, happy and content sandwiched between two of her loves as she begins to fall asleep.

[short-black-diamond]

OMG I THOUGHT OF THIS AND I KNEW TO SSK INSTANTLY BEFORE I FORGOT!! 🩷

OM! Brothers reactions to mc who they dont know them too well and they sleep in longer than Belphie tehehe (then it turns out the slept that long because of jet lag? Jet lag? Relem hopping lag? Tehehe)

Sorry for so many requests ;^;

- 🍓

Oh noooo😭😭😭

I feel sorry for all the people who have that, I hope you guys are alright and that your sleeping rythm is alright...

---

MC who sleeps in longer than Belphie?

Lucifer was a little puzzled when he found you in your room. You were sleeping soundly, with a cozy blanked over and around you, and hugging one of your stuffed toys.

Your face however, showed some dark circles under your eyes, your brows furrowed, and your skin was rather pale. You looked very tired, even though you've been sleeping for more than ten hours.

He had to believe Mammon more now. It was the avatar of greed, after all, who said: "If ya don't believe me, then look for yourself! That human sleeps just as much as Belphie!"

It also didn't really help that you were not really a talkactive person as you rather kept to yourself, and the brothers didn't know you that good because of that.

Now, he sighed as he thought of a plausible reason as to why a human like you could even sleep that long without having to use the restroom or eat something.

Asmodeus stepped in because he needed some money from his sugar daddy oldest brother, and stumbled upon him examining you. The avatar of lust chuckled. "Oooohhh, does our little Lucifer have a feti- Ouch!", he yelped when Lucifer hit him with a rather hard pillow.

"Silent. I am thinking of a reason as to why MC is not awake yet. I mean, we don't know them very well, but still. I'm sure the normal human body can act just perfectly with just 8 hours of sleep."

Asmodeus rubbed his temple in pain as he thought as well. "Maybe they are doing some beauty sleep?"

Lucifer sighed. "I don't know...maybe? But let's have them sleep for a little longer before we wake them up."

...

Mammon grinned internally when Lucifer subtly apologized. Satan stepped into the kitchen where Mammon and Lucifer conversed. "Shouldn't MC be awake by now?", the blonde muttered, and Mammon looked at Lucifer.

"Yes, they should, but they are still asleep. I don't know why though."

Satan looked at the book he brought with him. "I don't know if this could be of use...but the book I'm currently reading tells something about some people who sleep in because of jet lag. It is when the sleep-rythm gets bothered when a person is in a jet, flying between continents and thus different time-zones, which messes up the rythm.", he explained and Lucifer made an "ah" sound in understanding.

Then he stepped into your room.

...

"...h-huh?", you grumbled as you stretched yourself. Lucifer stood before you, and he looked at you as you raised your arms. He had a concerned expression.

"Are you alright, MC?", he asked in a gentle tone, and you felt weird for some reason.

Lucifer was actually still a complete stranger, and it just...well, it made you feel weird, but you liked the feeling.

"Yes, I guess I just dozed off from swapping from the humanworld to Devildom.", you said softly, still a bit drunk from sleep, and the eldest brother nodded in understanding.

Just then, Leviathan stepped in with an excited grin as he pointed towards you. "I knew it! You're living the life of (insert a very long manga name which describes protag with jet lag)! ...I-I hope that you're okay though...", Levi muttered shyly when he felt Lucifer's stern glare on him.

It felt nice having people worry about you. You wish you could say the same to the people from your home...

"Thank you. I feel a lot better after my nap. I hope I didn't sleep too much?", you asked, as you yawned.

Lucifer looked at the watch on his hand. "You slept for nearly fourteen hours.", he stated, and your eyes widened.

"Whoah...", you chuckled with a concerned face, and Beel stepped in with some food. "I brought some snacks. I thought you might need it after nearly sleeping for more than half a day.", he murmured, and you thanked him with an excited grin.

"Really?! That's so nice of you! Thank you, Beel!", you exclaimed happily, and grinned even wider.

Beel gave you a close-eyed smile as he began eating a hamburger while you bit into a healthy salad. Leviathan ate some sushi while Lucifer dismissed you guys to attend to his duties.

'Living with you might be a little worrying, but at least you weren't loud...', Lucifer mused to himself as he thought about your behavior and lunged into his paperwork with a small smile.

---

Heyyy I hope this was okay! I didn't put in Belphie because as I said in my last Obey me! post, he's a lil shit and I don't like him.

so please don't reuqest stuff where he's involved, or I'll intentionally ignore it. <3

Read you guys in the next post!

[gunnrblze]

Reunion pt. 2

Continuation of my silly fic

CW: more suggestiveness, fighting the urge to add smut to this lol. reader is gender neutral in the first part, but is she/her now

You’d always thought florescent lights were a bit much sometimes, but now that they were blaring right above your line of sight? You wanted to stab someone over it.

It was difficult to hear, too many people talking, too many machines and noises whirring in the distance.

What you could feel though, was an ache at the back of your skull, dull when you’re still, but sharp if you shift your head the right way on whatever piece of shit cot you’ve been laid on. You assume you fell and hit said noggin when whatever the fuck happened in the forest, happened.

Not that you can remember much yet, all you know is that the Generals murder boys showed up and then you got knocked off your one-way piggy back ride. Which worries you, is Beanie still alive? What about the rest of the circus?

With the way the lights are fizzling above you on the ceiling, the vague smell of medical supplies, and the fact you can feel that big cut on your hip bandaged up now instead of trying to kill you softly with its song…you’d wager you’ve not been captured by the Feds.

Maybe this is the ‘base’ your saviors kept speaking of, something you’d only believe when you really saw it…just in case they’re actually some band of fuckwads posing as a militia and not real soldiers. People are weird, can you really blame yourself?

“She’s awake” a voice somewhere off to the left, or maybe the right, called out. Your brain was a little too hazy to recall if you knew the voice, but as soon as Papa Smurf came into view, you felt some kind of relief that maybe the rest were okay too.

Not that you gave too much of a shit about them, yeah? I mean, you don’t even know them, they could’ve killed you, they could kill you. They just plucked you up off the floor and said ‘come with us’ like that’s a normal thing to do. Who even are they? You have one real name out of the five, but ‘Hesh’ surely to god isn’t the man’s government name-

“How do you feel?” His voice snapped you out of whatever train of thought you were riding. You blinked what felt like a hundred times before you could make out his form standing to your left. He wasn’t really as old as you acted like he was. Maybe early 50s, but he could still take you down as well as the rest, if not better due to what you imagine is well honed experience he has.

You still weren’t too interested in speaking very much to them. Maybe it was juvenile, or maybe your brain was just lacking, unable to figure out what to say in this situation. You relented a little though, giving a shrug and a mumble of something that sounded like ‘fine’. Why was your mouth doing that? Why did it feel so weird to speak?

“You’ve got a mild concussion, and a knocked out tooth” Geriatric explained when he saw what must’ve been confusion on your face.

Oh. A knocked out tooth. Naturally, of course. Whatever, it could surely be worse than a missing molar.

“We patched up your hip. That’s a nasty cut you got, a bit infected, we’ll have to keep an eye on it” he added, which wasn’t a sentence you liked very much. Not because of the cut, you weren’t sure you cared about that anymore. But because they wanted to keep an eye on it? They’d keep you?

Suddenly you felt like a stray mutt. Found wandering in the broken rubble of that office building, feeding on scraps of food because what the fuck else is there to eat in a bombed out wasteland?

You supposed you could get past that degrading feeling. If, and only if your presence didn’t continue to feel like a liability. You’d fight for yourself again, continue to scavenge for food like an animal before you played house, or military, you guess…with people who wished that their dogs nose hadn’t sniffed you out in the first place.

You wouldn’t be following them around like a stray if they’d complain about it, you knew that for sure. Not that they had complained, as a matter of fact, nothing had happened, they were actually rather nice. You were kind of just imagining all this-

“You gonna tell us more about yourself, kid? How the hell did you make it out there? You know where you’ve been?” Geriatric decided to flash bang you with three questions at once.

You gave another shrug, why did it feel like you couldn’t talk? You weren’t exactly scared of them anymore. They clearly didn’t want to hurt you, not at the moment, at least. Why did you feel so petulantly reluctant to explain yourself to people that had actually helped you considerably?

You decided to suck it up, and explained through your molar-less, iron tasting mouth, that your family died way back when, you somehow wandered into No Man’s Land, you’ve been getting by well enough, etc, etc, the usual.

Now he was being silent, which you almost thought was funny, except for the way that he looked at you like you’d told him a lie. Anxiety set in for a moment, and you felt like you were being cross examined now.

“You just stumbled into No Man’s Land? How’d you get past the wall?” He asked a little more quizzically this time. His arms were set firm across his chest -big arms for an old dude, you couldn’t help but notice- and his face was stone cold. Not your favorite look from American Dad, so far.

You figured if any time was the time to talk, it was now. After realizing what the fuck he meant by the wall, you relayed that you simply crawled underneath it. A divot in the ground that someone had clearly took a moment to dig out. You hadn’t thought much of it, you were more so concerned with not becoming one of those red berets next kill shots.

You remembered it better than you thought you would though, given your concussion. Which lessened your anxiety a bit, he’d probably hate it if you couldn’t even explain that part…

Except, that didn’t quite mean he believed it yet. Back to square one. Your head throbbed and your gums were still a little bloody. The infection in your hip stung and the lights were still caving in on you as you laid in the fuck ass military issue cot. But none of it mattered when you had him looming over you, asking questions like you were an X-File and he was just waiting for Scully to show up.

“You crawled under the wall, huh? And didn’t get caught by any Fed soldiers?” Geriatric asked, his tone almost harboring a little, amusement? It was hard to tell with the way his gaze made your body feel so cold, despite being somewhere near California in June.

You simply nodded though, because…yeah. That’s quite literally exactly what happened. He knew you were a civilian, if that much wasn’t glaringly clear, so maybe he’d also come to understand that you had little idea what the fuck you were doing.

You were both surprised when you suddenly spoke up unprompted and asked about the others, if they were alright. You’d remembered how this all happened, what led up to being knocked off Beanies back, and you couldn’t help but wonder where they were. He raised an eyebrow, but seemed willing enough.

“Hesh is alright, took a bullet to his vest, that’s why you fell down with him” He starts, immediately making more sense than you thought he’d give, seeing as they all seemed to be quite secretive. Hell, you only knew Beanie, Hesh’s, name anyways. That seemed to bother you a bit, not even knowing their names.

“The rest are okay. You two are the only injuries we have right now. He’s been patched up and is resting, which is what you’re gonna do, too” he added. Which again, you weren’t exactly a fan of because what the fuck happens after you rest up?

What will they do with you? They won’t put you back in No Man’s Land, of course, but you have no where else to go. That’s how you ended up here, on this scratchy cot, after the fucking Misfits picked you up by the scruff of your neck like a feral alley cat.

He seemed to smell the confusion and slight fear on you, and during what you imagine is a rare event, seemed to stall with having an actual course of action. So you opened your big mouth up instead. Explaining that you have no where to go, so they might as well just dump you now, get it over with.

You felt stupid when you said anything to them, like you were a toddler learning how to string meaningful sentences together for the first time, so you didn’t feel any more idiotic than you perpetually did after saying that bullshit.

But the way he raised his grayed eyebrow again and looked down at you like you were not as old as you actually were…didn’t help the feeling.

“Don’t worry about that right now, you have to rest up and get cleared from that concussion before we ‘drop’ you anywhere” he said simply, like that would make you feel better. Like the pat on your shoulder would make you feel better instead of making you flinch.

He walked away though, so what choice was there?

You glanced around now that you could see and think better. Stashed away in some room that was supposed to be a makeshift medic-like setting. The walls were gray and so was the vibe, apparently. Not that you’d expect the croaking soldier on the cot adjacent to you to be having a good time with that stab wound it appears he took to the gut…

You were just about to get settled into your spiraling thoughts when an unfamiliar voice appeared on your left. This guy was, naturally, just as big, but had a more athletic looking build. Brown eyes that were more amber than anything, and not nearly as imposing an energy as some of the others. Looking at Baldy for that one.

“Hey, I’m Kick” he tried to give you a smile.

Ohhh. So getaway guy does exist.

You almost felt the desire to return the smile, but you couldn’t. So you gave a nod instead, which seemed to satisfy him enough. He asked how you felt, your point blank response of “Shitty” got a little chuckle out of him. Why was he charming? He’s like Beanie, you suppose, a smile that can go a long way. A smile that you enjoyed seeing since you hadn’t really seen anything in a while.

Your lack of recent human interaction was still confusing your hormones…

He very clearly wanted to ask questions about the elephant in the room, how the fuck are you still alive? But he appeared to have enough decorum to make it seem like bringing it up was your idea when he worked it into the conversation.

But you had nothing much to say. By the skin of your teeth, is how you survived and out-hid the Feds thus far. A yipping and wailing German Shepard who somehow smelled you from too far away, is how you’re alive and on this cot rather than wondering if you’ll find a shelter hidden enough to sleep in tonight.

It appears he’s just as smart as his friends, because he doesn’t push. Just looks at you like you’re some sort of miracle. Really, you’re totally flattered and all, but you can’t quite stop and pat yourself on the back yet for making it this far, when you still have so far to go.

He wanted to let you rest like Geriatric, so he left. And you did not watch his ass in those tactical pants as he went. A nurse-medic-doctor-‘I have some kind of medical knowledge’ person came over to tend to your hip wound. Peeling back the gauze made you hiss, looking down at the gross slice wound made you wince.

Definitely more infected than you thought it’d gotten. Perhaps that’s what the pills they were shoving in your hand were for. You cared so little you didn’t even ask about what you were swallowing.

You laid down again, trying not to tear your hair out of the root due to the way the lights continued to buzz above your head. It wasn’t loud, but it was loud enough for your concussed ass brain.

Apparently these people catch on quite well, you couldn’t ever think of knowing simple army soldiers that had so much interpersonal skills. Weren’t they usually a little dumb? But you’d be damned if you didn’t see Beanie himself spawn at your side with a pair of earplugs. You were beginning to wonder if maybe you would rather be left alone, respectfully.

“We don’t have many of these, but they should help” he said simply, rather than addressing literally anything else that’s happened. You took them though, cracking a real little smile because Jesus fucking Christ if you had to hear a gun go off one more time…

You gave him a once over, noticing the slight raise of bandage near his ribs underneath his deliciously too tight t-shirt. He noticed, because of course he did, and ensured you he was fine. It was all rather normal feeling, for a beyond abnormal situation.

You popped the earplugs in, sighing and trying not to move your head wound on the thick fabric of the cot because Christ on a bike that shit stung. You felt a little more comfortable blurting out a ‘what happens after this’ to him rather than his elder, for some reason.

That seemed to be the question of the hour, though, because he kinda just gave you that knowing look. You figured he’d half ass some kind of reassurance, but instead he asked about the half broken radio in your bag.

Your bag. Your radio. Your stuff. Where’d they even put it? They went through it?

“You have a lot of loose ends in there, why were you carrying all that stuff around?” He’d continue. He wasn’t wearing his little namesake, you just noticed, and you accidentally admired how silly yet handsome he looked with a buzz cut.

Which was also a bit too obvious on your end, so you opted for explaining that you were trying to fix the radio. You used to fuck with them in your spare time, good with technology type stuff, etc etc. Which piqued his interest enough to ask how good you were with radios.

Pretty good was your final answer. You didn’t quite feel like talking about godforsaken radios right now, what with the lights blaring and the exhaustion catching up to your brittled ass body. You weren’t sure how malnourished and dehydrated you were, but you could feel the weakness. He seemed interested enough by you, though, you just didn��t have half a mind to ask about your belongings after taking those meds.

It felt almost too perfect when he explained that they’ve been having issues with their comms system lately…

That maybe you could take a look at it once you healed up more, maybe you could fix it. That if you did, you’d have a place to stay, food to eat.

You wondered whether or not Junior had ran this thought by Senior yet. If he was just planting the idea to help you out, so you didn’t face whatever fate you’d end up with once you didn’t have a need to laze in their cot anymore.

Because you couldn’t really foresee the rest of his buds wanting to actually take you in, whatever the fuck that really meant, here. You were a civilian, who maybe posed a bit of use to them. But that didn’t feel good enough, you wagered. Not during a time like this. Don’t they have people for this stuff?

You shrugged, not wanting to ask why he cared so much about your wellbeing. Maybe he’s just a good guy, a good soldier, but you both knew you had little place here. He seemed to just be trying to carve one out for you. And as much as you appreciated it, you still didn’t like the whole idea of being any kind of burden to these people

He gave you a pat on your shoulder too, like father like son, and told you to get some rest and think about it.

You did think about it. Thought about how fucking stupid it’d be if you tried to fix a military communications system. You liked tinkering with radios and what not, desperate to get a signal for even a sliver of music to grace your ears if you could. But you didn’t know as much as you suddenly wished you did.

So you opted for lying on your squeaky cot, feeling the burn of the stitches on your hip, the ache of the gash on the back of your head. And the buzz of the florescent lighting above you.

The earplugs did help a bit. And you fell asleep sooner than you thought you would. To the nice relaxing sounds of sick, groaning soldiers, and whatever the flying fuck was happening on this base.

And naturally, that damned dog again.

[resident-idiot-simp]

Sorry it took so long to respond I was out all day and normally I would be asleep by now but due to a family emergency involving a sibling (they will be fine) I am ✨AWAKE✨. Please forgive the inevitable crimes against grammar I’m about to commit I am severely sleep deprived :D

Okay so the reason wendigos aren’t able to hybridise is because humans turn into them through specific methods ie eating human flesh. they are human turned creatures. Same rules apply for vampires, werewolves, Zombies, Ghosts and any other similar type of monster, they are around but they aren’t hybrids. There are also no Moth Man, Bigfoot or Loch Ness Hybrids.

Magic left the world a LONG time ago and no one (Human) remembers why. This caused a mass extinction event with most creatures that were solely magical being wiped out. The ones that survived either became Cryptids and barely functioned with the scraps of magic left behind or they became mundane…

The reason the fae left in the first place is because a bunch of humans tried to take magic from the Fae and actually succeeded for like five seconds before a bunch of them died from the sheer amount of power. This BIG NO NO altered the nature of magic into something humans could actually use unfortunately it also hurt the Fae badly so they had to poq for a while to recover. They took the magic with them but not before cursing the surviving thieves and their descendants to never be able to experience magic again (this led to some unintended consequences).

The reason there are no Fae hybrids is a little more sinister (angst potential incoming). Every now and then a little bit of magic would leak back into the world and keep things running just enough so that when the Fae returned it wasn’t a complete shit show (just mostly one) and after some initial conflict and a bunch of new border agreements things settled down (British hybrids can pick which royal house they follow (fae or human) whilst still maintaining citizenship (guess which Soap picked lol)) and with magic being reintroduced (in the 1800’s btw) the world slowly started to change. Within a generation hybrids began appearing, within another three Mythics started showing up too. With each successive generation the hybrids got stronger and as the magic around the world continued to grow more and more animals began looking weird. Rabbits with antlers, Giant Sea Snakes and Octopi, Lions with golden coats. But no dragons or phenox or unicorns or purely magical beings appeared instead what they had where hybrids that become a little less human every generation.

TLDR the OG mythical creatures went extinct and magic is trying its best to bring them back the normal hybrids just didn’t have enough juice in them to meet the requirements. Anything that didn’t go (fully) extinct like the Fae or are human turned creature won’t hybridise.

Technically Ghost hybridisation shouldn’t have worked but because he “died” such a specific and traumatising way near a canine mythic who’s magic he absorbed over months the magic got a lil confused (Ghost is the only Black dog hybrid the as the rest are actual dogs and not extinct ( does that mean Ghost is the strongest Black dog? Maybe…(yes it does))).

If you want angst you could say that if a hybrid uses to much of their magic they run the risk of becoming more creature then man. I don’t think they’d loose their intelligence and they’d still be the same “person” but they definitely wouldn’t be human.

Since magic returned vampires can walk in the sun, wendigos became intelligent (took one look at the military and went ✨no✨) werewolves become more aware (lol) and don’t need the moon to shift and Ghosts are still classed as citizens.

Ooh What if magic is radiation from the asteroid that took out the dinosaurs????

You're fine I hope everyone's okay and I'd be a hypocrite because I too do not understand the English language.

Ok that makes sense yeah.

FAE LORE FAE LORE!!! I LOVE IT! I love that the lore and angst of humans trying to take something not made for them is very fitting. There is a ton of potential for angst and I love that Soap is like nahhh fae all the way. (He is correct)

I Love that explanation of mythics It seems very fitting for the universe. The world needs them in some way shape or form so it corrects itself.

Great explanation for Ghost and the fact that singles him out making him the most powerful is perfect. I mean look at that man.

AAAHHHH ANGST!!!! I LOVE THAT! It limits them and makes them of not super op. It also explains how some of the actual mythical creatures can survive in the human world now. (Wendigos my beloved)

OMG DINOSAUR LORE?! YES! (what if kidding kinda If all the dinosaurs didn't die) Hahaha unless

(I answered this on my phone so I couldn't answer each paragraph because it wasn't clear sorry)

[ribbongram]

Voice Drama:

Kizuna

???: Oh! You’re awake!

???: mmmn…? Who…?

???: Look at the screen! The screen!!

???: Ah…

???: There you go! I was wondering when you would be waking up, Kizuna!

Kizuna: That voice… you sound familiar…

???: Well then, allow me to introduce myself to jog your memory! My name is Jax, and I’ll be assisting you in your new job as the Warden of Ribbongram!

Kizuna: Warden… That’s right, I’m the Warden…

Jax: Correct!!

Kizuna: But, wait. I’m the Warden of Ribbongram, and…

Jax: and?

Kizuna: ….

Kizuna: That’s… all I remember…

Jax: Ahhh, that’s completely normal. Memory is a fickle thing here in Ribbongram. You’ll get used to it.

Kizuna: Telling me to get used to not knowing who I am outside of my job… What a scary idea.

Jax: Aww, come on!! You’ll remember in no time, I’m sure!! For now, how about you get up and meet me outside?

Kizuna: Where outside?

Jax: You’ll see. I’m hard to miss, Y’know.

Kizuna: Whatever you say…

Jax: Ah, so fast! Glad to see you have a sense of urgency!

Kizuna: I mean, yeah… I hope I wasn’t asleep for too long, especially if I was already on the clock.

Jax: Don’t sweat it!! You woke up at the perfect time. This gives me plenty of time to show you around and explain things to you.

Jax: The prison is quite small, so I’m not too worried about showing you around. The most important thing right now is introducing you to the prisoners.

Kizuna: The prisoners… how many are there?

Jax: Only six. That should be manageable for you, right?

Kizuna: Six… I guess?? Unless one of them is really bad…

Jax: Well then let me assure you, none of them should be that difficult to deal with!

Jax: Let’s go in order. First up, we have Prisoner 01, Nuimura Ena. I have the prisoner files here so that you can see for yourself what they look like.

Jax: The prisoner files contain basic information, but that’s it. If you want to know more about the individual prisoners, you’ll have to learn through interrogations.

Kizuna: Mm… They’re pretty.

Jax: Agreed! Though, judging by their expression, they seem quite mischievous, possibly even smug. They might give you a hard time.

Kizuna: So much for “manageable.”

Jax: As a warden, it can’t be helped that you’ll have to deal with some annoyances here and there!! Don’t let that discourage you!!

Kizuna: I’ll certainly do my best…

Jax: That’s the spirit!! Now, let’s move on.

Jax: Prisoner 02, Tomaya Mai. Isn’t he cute? Unlike 01, I think he’ll be quite easy to get along with!

Kizuna: Hm…

Jax: Eh? What’s wrong?

Kizuna: Nothing, just… A weird coincidence. Anyways, he’s only 16, so he should be relatively easy to take care of…

Jax: It should be like dealing with a younger brother! Next!

Jax: Prisoner 03, Kuroda Ayase. He’s not much older than 02, but he does seem to have more of an edge to him as a result. Shouldn’t be anything more than annoying, though.

Kizuna: Another one…?

Jax: Kizuna?

Kizuna: Nothing… I’m positive it’s just a coincidence. Nothing more than annoying, got it.

Jax: Right… Let’s keep moving.

Jax: Prisoner 04, Asano Eita. He’s the youngest prisoner, but he seems to be decently mature despite his age, so he shouldn’t be that hard to deal with!

Kizuna: Phew… It really was just a coincidence… Ah, well, his eyes…

Jax: What are you mumbling about? Kizuna? Kizuna!!

Kizuna: Ah, sorry, I swear I’m listening. I’m just… noticing a pattern is all.

Jax: Pattern? Well, then I guess you’re doing your job of observing them quite well…

Jax: Still, make sure you’re listening!! Don’t get lost in your thoughts!!

Kizuna: Yes, Mr. Jax.

Jax: Hey-! Oooo, actually, I kinda like that… refer to me as Mr. Jax from now on!

Kizuna: Won’t do.

Jax: So mean! Let’s just move on.

Jax: Prisoner 05, Geki Mashiro. She’s a university student, but… there isn’t much you can gather from her expression. She seems easy going though, so she shouldn’t cause any trouble at least.

Kizuna: Her too…? Hey, is this some kind of variety show or something?

Jax: What? I can assure you that this is not a variety show!!

Kizuna: Do you really think saying that will alleviate my suspicions?

Jax: Oh! What a big word you used! You sounded really cool just now, Kizuna!

Kizuna: It seems my wariness of the prisoners was misplaced. The only thing I should truly dread interacting with is you.

Jax: Haha, I’m just teasing you! Let’s finish the introductions now.

Jax: Prisoner 06, Kouma Aimi. A relatively young prisoner, and a pretty one at that! She seems to be the confident type, but also approachable. Kinda like a cool older sister; you know?

Kizuna: Alright, I can’t ignore it any longer.

Jax: Kizuna?

Kizuna: Surely you’ve noticed it too. What color is your fur?

Jax: Well… It’s kind of a pastel pink, right?

Kizuna: Right. What about my hair color?

Jax: It’s… also a pastel pink, but a little more red than mine-

Kizuna: Look at all the prisoners. What are their hair colors?

Jax: Um? Well, most of them are also pink, with the exception of 04, his is more-

Kizuna: Why is everyone in Ribbongram pink, Jax?

Jax: Ah, well-

Kizuna: Is this some kind of joke?

Jax: I can assure you, it’s not supposed to be-

Kizuna: Do you see some inherent evil in the color pink? Did your cat brothers bully you for having a different color of fur and locking up everyone with pink hair is your revenge? You should be the one behind bars, Jax.

Jax: What?? No!? Kizuna I assure you that is not the case-!!

Kizuna: I can’t believe I’ve been tricked so easily...! I trusted you, Jax…

Jax: Alright, that’s enough!! I need to explain what the voting means before we run out of time!! The prisoners are going to wake up at any moment, and if I don’t tell you what your options mean, then-!

[A Bell Rings.]

Jax: Ah…

Kizuna: Ah…?

Jax: Well… this is unfortunate.

Kizuna: What was that bell just now?

Jax: That was the prisoners wake up call… I fear my time to explain things has been cut short.

Kizuna: !? Wait, but-!

Jax: Oh what a shame! If only I had had enough time to explain everything that needed to be explained!

Jax: Oh wait, I did!! I did have enough time!! But I kept getting interrupted, and now the prisoners will be coming out of their cells any minute!! I hope you’re happy with your consequences!!

Kizuna: Ahhh… Whatever, I’m sure I’ll be fine… Voting can’t be that hard. Guilty or Innocent, right? I’ll learn about their crimes from the interrogations and decide what their punishment should be. Can’t be that hard.

[Footsteps echo as Kizuna begins to walk away]

Jax: You naive little-! Will you take this more seriously?? You don’t want to At least know what your voting options are??

Jax: Ahhh, why do I even bother? What an arrogant guard! You’ll have nobody but yourself to blame when things get complicated!!

Kizuna: Lala… I can’t hear you.

Jax: Honestly…! I hope they mature a little on the job… [Sigh] Well, I suppose there’s nothing I can do at this point but watch… Good luck, Kizuna.

[starlitangels]

Stay With Me, Faithful

@palilious I got it done, Pali! I got stuck for a little bit but I got it done! 2.3k words

CW: violence, blood, grievous injuries, emotional

—

Thump… thump… thump…

I sat up blearily and rubbed my eyes. Heavy boots on the metal floor of the ship…

“Albus,” I hissed.

Springing from my bunk, I threw my long overcoat on over my nightdress and slid into my boots. I dodged out of my cabin and crept after him as quietly as I could. His boots were quieter than mine, but I’d learned how to creep around my temple in hard-heeled shoes. As long as I was careful he wouldn’t know I was even—

“What are you doing, faithful?” Albus asked around a sigh that seemed exasperated.

I made a face of frustration. Of course he caught me. How did he always know?

“I could ask you the same thing,” I retorted, striding forward until we were standing opposite each other.

He chuckled, setting his hands on his hips. “Could. Didn’t.”

I scowled. “What are you doing, Albus?” I asked sharply. “Why are you wandering the ship while we’re supposed to be sleeping?”

“Who says it’s any of your business?”

“Oh I’m sure it’s not. But I don’t want you exhausted and off your game tomorrow if something happens.”

“It’s after midnight. We’re already in tomorrow.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean,” I shot back.

He narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. “You really wanna know?” There was an almost genuine innocence to his question and part of me couldn’t help but brace to hear the most vile, perverse thing I couldn’t even imagine until it came out of his mouth. But I nodded anyway. “I couldn’t sleep. Happens every so often. Sometimes warriors have to stay awake for days. Sleeping every night is weird anyway.”

I rubbed my eyes. “No? It’s not? Sleeping every night is normal?”

“Maybe for a sister-paladin living a cushy temple attendant’s life,” Albus retorted.

“Cushy isn’t the word I’d use but I do understand where you’re coming from with using it,” I said around a yawn. “Alright. Where are we going?”

“We? Nuh-uh. There’s no we. I’m taking a walk to wind down enough to try to sleep, and you’re taking that pretty little head of yours back to your bunk and going back to bed.”

“Nope. I’m awake now. Meaning I’m joining you until I’m exhausted enough to go back to bed.” I stretched my shoulders. “Let’s go. Where are we walking?”

Albus rolled his eyes. “You’re really stubborn, you know that?”

“Mmhmm. Proud of it, actually.”

“Of course you are,” he grumbled. “Come on, then. We’re just gonna go around the ship a few times. Like a patrol.”

I covered another yawn with my hands. “Mkay.” I fell into step beside him as he turned and moved to walk off. I blinked hard to try and clear the weight of fatigue from my eyelids as I wrapped my overcoat more securely around me. “Remind me where Devlin parked the ship for the night?”

Albus snorted hard enough that he had to have hurt his throat. “I’m sure I would if I knew,” he said.

“No you wouldn’t,” I grumbled. “You’d save it until we were outside and it was convenient or dramatic for you to tell me. Unless you were trying to warn me off.”

He shrugged. “Probably,” he agreed.

We made our way through the ship and off. The mantle seemed to change constantly and never looked even similar to where we were the last time we got off the ship.

The landscape this time looked like yellowish, sandblasted rock, but felt weirdly springy underfoot. Albus set off to march around the hull of the ship. I fell into step beside him. “Why do you think the ground feels like this?” I asked, testing the bounce slightly, applying more weight on my toes.

“Don’t know, don’t care. Ask Vinny—he’s the egghead, he probably has a guess.”

“Petrified organic?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Sometimes things that were once alive harden a long time after they die. Like how trees seem to turn to stone and we call them petrified trees, before you say something gross about the way my half-asleep brain worded that last sentence.”

Albus snickered. I rolled my eyes.

He didn’t seem to deign to respond to the suggestion, and I decided to drop it.

We walked along the port side of the ship. It was a lot bigger than it seemed sometimes. The springy ground made an odd hissing noise with every step we took.

Off in the distance, something whickered.

“What was that?” I asked.

“What?”

“Did you not hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That… whickering.”

“Stop being paranoid. There’s nothing out here right now, and we should count ourselves grateful. This place has been full of things that want us dead just because we crossed their paths. Take the peace while you can get it, faithful.”

Still, Albus rested a hand on his sword and cast a glance around.

“Here,” he said. Gentler than I expected, he took my arm and drew me around his front as we walked so I was walking between him and the hull.

“What was that about?”

“Well, that way I’m between you and the most likely direction of attack,” Albus said. He scoffed and rolled his eyes as my eyebrows tilted. “Oh, don’t make a thing out of it. You just… seemed worried.” He looked away. Peeking through his messy dark hair, the tips of his ears were a little red. I pursed my lips to suppress a smile and turned to watch where I was stepping. The springiness of the ground kept making me feel like it was going to collapse from right under us.

There was that noise again. Closer? Or was I just listening for it? Or was I just being a wimp?

I tried to ignore the rising apprehension. We circled around and came up on the starboard side of the ship and continued on. Albus seemed perfectly content to walk in silence. Which was… odd, considering how much he usually seemed to at least mildly enjoy the sound of his own voice.

I decided not to say anything.

Something huffed. A grunting sort of huff.

“Did you hear that?” I asked.

Albus had gone rigid. “Yeah. That one I heard,” he agreed. He looked around wildly, drawing his sword. “Gangplank, now. Get back on the ship.” With his other hand, he pushed at my shoulder to get me moving.

I didn’t need to be told twice. I stumbled on the hem of my overcoat before we both took off running. Albus kept his head on a swivel. The ground underneath us hissed with every speedy step.

And then rumbled.

A scream tore out of my throat as it exploded directly behind me—and something grabbed my ankle.

“Albus!” I shouted. I got yanked—hard—and hit my chin on the ground. The impact made my teeth ache, but thankfully I didn’t bite off my tongue.

—

“Faithful!” Albus shouted. He watched the fear in her wide eyes as the monster that erupted from the ground dragged her backward. He turned sharply and ran after her. “Faithful!”

He got close to the monster and swung his sword. She screamed and recoiled away, as though he was aiming for her. He didn’t have time to reassure her that he wasn’t going to miss and hit her.

The monster bellowed and thrashed when Albus’ sword made contact with its wrist.

Unfortunately, it thrashed the hand that had her in its grip too.

Thankfully, it let her go.

Unfortunately, it let her go nearly ten feet off the ground.

Thankfully, she was still conscious.

Unfortunately, the monster came crashing back down and its clawed hand-like appendage—for lack of a better word—landed close enough to her that its claws gouged into her.

Thankfully, Albus’ injury seemed to scare it off. Huffing and grunting, it bounded across the squishy ground, breaking it on every stride, and disappeared around a ridge after a moment.

“Faithful!” Albus shouted, rushing over to where she’d fallen. “Faithful—oh gods. Faithful—faithful can you hear me?!” He fell to his knees beside her and started rapidly checking her over. Her eyes were still open and she was breathing, but seemed dazed. “Faithful—no don’t go into shock. Come on. Faithful!”

She made a small noise. A pained one.

“No. No. Don’t do this to me, faithful. Come on. C’mon, look at me. Stay with me, faithful. Please. Just—just stay—stay with me!” Albus begged, gently tugging the sides of the tears in her overcoat and underdress aside to examine the wounds. “Oh gods.” He swallowed. “You’re going to be fine. I promise. We’ll make sure of it. Just stay with me. You hear me? No passing out. No going into shock.”

She groaned, face screwing up.

Eyelids fluttering.

“No—don’t pass out.” He put pressure on the wounds on her side as best he could. The wounds were far bigger than his hands.

She hissed in pain, but didn’t seem to be able to speak.

“Faithful! Please—please don’t do this to me,” Albus pleaded. “Stay with me, you understand? Just stay—” He choked on a sob. “Just stay with me.”

He released the sob and let his whole body convulse from it.

“Devlin!” he shouted. His voice thick with emotion.

His faithful shuffled just a little—and grimaced at the movement. Her eyelids were half-closed.

“No. Don’t move. It’ll just make things worse. Hold still. Look at me, faithful. Look at my eyes. Please. Let me see those gorgeous eyes of yours. Come on. Even if you’re just going to roll them at me. Let me see.” He moved his hands to try and cover more of the wounds to staunch the bleeding.

“Al… bus…?” Her voice was small. Thin. Raspy.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s me, faithful. Just stay with me, okay? You’re gonna be okay, I promise. Just stay with me. Oh gods, please stay with me. You can’t—you can’t leave me.” He swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. Tears slid out of his eyes, down his face, and into his beard. “I’m gonna—i’m gonna try to get you inside while trying to keep pressure on your wounds. But—” He cleared his throat. “But you have to stay with me.”

She moaned quietly.

Albus looked around frantically. Trying to figure out how he could pick her up and keep putting adequate pressure on the gouges in her side.

“Faithful—faithful, please. Don’t pass out on me. Oh gods, stay with me. Come on, faith—”

“What the hell is going on out—sister? Albus what did you do?!” Devlin’s voice demanded.

“Oh shut up I didn’t do anything! We got attacked by a massive monster. It grabbed her!” Albus snapped back. “Are you just going to stand there and be useless or are you going to help me?”

Devlin shook off his surprise and rushed into action. “What do you need me to do?”

“Put pressure on her wounds. I’ll pick her up and we’ll get her to the medical ward. Do you know how to cauterize something this serious?”

“My medical knowledge is limited… the sister is the one who knows the most.”

“I know—but we can’t lose her!”

“We won’t. We’ll figure it out.”

“We’d better.” Albus swallowed. “Okay. On three, you put your hands on her wounds and I’ll switch to her other side and pick her up.”

“Okay.”

“One. Two. Three.” Albus hopped over her and let go of her wounds at the same moment Devlin put his hands where Albus’ had been. Albus scooped her up by her knees and shoulders and cradled her gently against his torso. “Let’s go. Quickly. She’s losing a lot of blood. If she loses much more there will be nothing we can do.”

“Okay.”

“Come on, faithful. Stay with me. We’re gonna get you inside,” Albus said softly.

—

Consciousness slowly swam back to me. I squinted against bright lights—and winced against something tight restricting my upper body.

I peeled one eyelid open, regretting it as it stung against the light.

To see Albus asleep in an uncomfortable-looking metal chair next to the gurney I was lying on. His chin was nearly resting on his chest—

And his hands and face were covered in blood.

I tried to gasp, but whatever tight thing was wrapped around me stopped me from doing so—and when I tried everything hurt.

Albus grunted and shuffled, inhaling deeply like he was waking up too.

“You look like hell,” I remarked.

His unfathomably dark eyes snapped open. “Faithful!” His exclamation was barely more than a breathy whisper. He lurched on the chair to get closer to me, reaching out for my hand—then seeing the blood on his and withdrawing.

Weakly, I reached out for his hands. He almost smiled and let himself take my hand in both of his. “How are you feeling?”

“You’ve asked a lot of stupid questions before. That one’s the dumbest,” I groaned.

“I know it’s stupid. But Devlin and I aren’t healers. We… we did our best. You’re still under a lot of sedation and heavy painkillers but… it seemed like the… polite question to ask, I guess.”

I grunted. “I take it that’s my blood on your hands?”

He looked down. “Yes,” he said.

“Hmm,” I mumbled. I tried to take a deep breath, but what must have been bandages didn’t let me move too much.

Albus looked down at our hands.

“Hey,” I said softly.

His eyes flicked up to meet mine through his enviously thick, long, dark lashes.

I managed a weak smile. “I stayed with you.”

—

Tagging some of my GB peeps who might enjoy: @gwenifred @halscafe @zozo-01 @miloeveryday38 @dollscircus  @staplesmainbitch

[syncopein3d]

Broken World

4: Bad Night

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

CW: badly injured whumpee, implied past violence, loss of consciousness, fear of death, discussion of death, offensive/ignorant cis questions, blood, bruises, broken ribs, difficulty breathing, stranger caretaker, uncertain fate

Ripper ate the noodles without much interest. They felt like they gouged on their way down, and it couldn’t taste much. It wouldn’t be able to for a couple of days. Mostly they kept an eye on Robert as they sat there, in case he dropped the fat styrofoam cup or threw up. Neither happened. Afterward, he set the cup on the nightstand and sloshed water from the bottle around his mouth before he swallowed.

“So, where do you sleep?” Robert asked.

“I’ve got a couple of things to do. Then I’ll lie on top of the other side. It’s a big bed,” Ripper said.

��Yeah, well, if I die just dump the body in the garage,” Robert said. “In case I get back up.”

“Do I want that?” Ripper asked.

“It’d mean your extra work wasn’t wasted.” He leaned back into the pillow stack, swollen eyes all the way shut now.

“Good point.” They threw away the trash and washed the cup and fork they’d used for the noodles. Then they grabbed the duffel and went to take a hurried shower and brush their teeth. In a few minutes they were cleaned, changed into different sweats, and padding barefoot back into the guest room. Robert was still breathing, the wheeze audible, so Ripper shut off the light and lay down facing him on top of the comforter. Its current cheapish smart phone made a small weight in one pocket. It actually thought he was asleep until he said,

“You sleep in a mask?”

“Nobody knows my face, and I’m not starting with you. Go to sleep.” It was all the Ripper could do to keep its own eyes open. Food eased the stomach cramps even if it didn’t affect the overall raw feeling that came from turning itself inside out to pass through the Other Place. Acetaminophen dulled the pain a little. And they were so very tired…

Ripper woke up with a start, rolling backward off the bed to crouch on the floor behind before they even registered why they were awake.

Then the noise happened again, a small, pained bark, and it realized Robert was trying not to cough and failing. They clawed their way back up onto the bed, stifling a groan. It felt like every raw place inside them had stiffened. A glance at the phone said it was six a.m. They must have slept for about six hours. There had been dreams, a snarl of uncolors and pain.

“You okay?” Robert asked. He was half-curled on his side facing away, so he could stay supported by pillows but keep weight off his left ribs. For a second his misshapen nose was there in silhouette as he tried to look over his shoulder.

“Better off than you are. How long have you been coughing?”

“Few minutes, I guess. Hurts like Hell. Is that normal?” His voice wasn’t any less graveled than yesterday.

“With broken ribs, yes. I’ll make tea.”

“All this time I thought people were really weird about pain,” he muttered. “Turns out I wasn’t feeling most of – kaff – fuck! Feeling most of it.”

“How sad for you,” rasped Ripper, already carrying the kettle away to refill. Robert coughed again twice while it was doing this. When it came back he was lying with his eyes closed, face half-buried in the pillow. Ripper thought he had passed out or gone back to sleep for a minute or so. Then, when it was pouring hot water over the black tea bags, he said,

“Why you doin’ this?”

“Good for a sore throat.”

“You know what – kff – what I meant.”

“You said your blood could heal me, remember?” Even to themselves, they sounded dry.

“It can. But you haven’t gone looking for needles or asked my blood type or nothing. Y’don’t believe me, do you?”

“I believe you’d say anything to stay alive.” Ripper shrugged. “I would, too, if I was you. But you did tell me where the carnite was. That’s worth something. And I can’t do anything with it for another couple of days anyway. I’m not busy.”

“Can’t. Why?” A thin sliver of bloodshot eye appeared to regard them.

“None of your business.”

“You’re sick,” Robert said. “Worse than when you found me. That thing you do, it hurts you.”

“Shut up. You want milk and sugar or not?”

“Nah,” Robert said. He eased himself into a more upright position, gritting his teeth. “Thanks. So you can’t travel to sell this shit until you get better. DO you get better?”

Ripper glared down at him. Robert looked back up at him. Then he grinned, showing a couple of missing teeth.

“You don’t scare me,” he said. Ripper exhaled involuntarily, not quite a laugh.

“Fine, you ass. I get better until I have to tear again. It’s never right any more, but tearing is worse. Can you hold this?”

“Yeah. Gimme it.” He held the mug in both hands, inhaling the steam. “So you think you can find somebody to fix you with the carnite so it doesn’t hurt no more. Who would you even trust to do that?”

“I know someone,” Ripper said. “She’s operated on me. She’ll be honest enough as long as I pay up.”

Robert listened as he drank tea, nodding slightly. Then he said, “You don’t think you’ll wake up strapped down and she’ll cut bits off you until you tell her where the carnite is?”

“I think her reputation is worth more to her than nine hundred fifty million dollars.”

“That’s crazy.”

“She’s a very specific kind of crazy. Do you think you can eat a protein bar?”

“No,” Robert said. “Stomach feels weird.” He set down the mug on the nightstand and would have just flopped backward if Ripper hadn’t caught him by the shoulders to help lower him back down. He didn’t wince at the thumb on the bandaged ball of his shoulder.

“Robert?” There was a clotty mumble, then a cough, no real answer. Ripper wedged him into the pillow pile so he would stay upright. They would swear they heard a crackle to his breathing now, mucus sticking to itself and the walls inside when he breathed. He didn’t fight them.

The wounded man slept fitfully all day. He was never awake enough for a real conversation until evening, when he started to really have trouble breathing. At that point, it decided the risk of suffocation was as bad as the risk of a punctured lung. The Ripper peeled back the covers, put a towel over one shoulder, and straddled his legs, pulling him forward. Then, as he lay with the unbroken side of his ribs against their chest, they thumped his back with their fist to help him cough. The sound was awful, and it could hear the wet sound of tarry mucus and blood hitting the terry cloth. Their arms ached, and that made the ache inside worse, but they didn’t even think of stopping.

Afterward, he breathed a little easier. Ripper could feel him trying to wipe his mouth on the towel before he nudged it aside and rested his forehead on their shoulder. It rubbed his naked back silently for a couple of minutes. His skin still felt hot. The NSAID helped the fever, but had not eliminated it.

“Hey, Ripper,” he said weakly.

“Yeah.”

“I’m afraid to die. I thought I never could.”

“Maybe you won’t,” the Ripper said. “It’s too early to say.” Robert grunted, but he didn’t move, so neither did they.

“Will you tell me one thing?” he whispered.

“Probably,” Ripper said.

“You born flat, or you get ‘em removed?”

It pushed him back into the pillows, ignoring his wheezing laugh. He curled onto his side, but didn’t stop for a while as it stalked away to shove the now-horrible towel into the washer.

“Asshole,” they said, as they came to pull the covers back over him.

“You said you’d tell,” Robert gasped. A weak hand clutched at their wrist. They detached it, but carefully, setting his hand back on the mattress.

“I had top surgery. Why do you care?”

“I never knew an agender type – thing - before. Don’t want to die wondering. One more?”

“It better not be about my genitals again, because I’m not answering that.” The fact that he’d said “thing” tempered its annoyance a little. Usually it didn’t even bother with that, because no one would use it. Robert had.

“What d’you call yourself in your head?” he was asking. “Not he or she.”

“It,” Ripper said. “Sometimes they.”

“Yeah. That makes sense.” The swelling in his eyes might be a little less. It was easier to tell when he closed them. Ripper sat on the edge of the bed beside him for a couple of minutes, elbow resting on his hip. After a minute, he said, “Will you stay? It’s gonna be a bad night. If it’s going to happen, I don’t want to be alone.”

“You won’t be alone. I’ll be here,” Ripper said. “But it’s only fair you know that if you do die, I’m rolling your ass off the balcony.”

“Don’ make me laugh again, damn you.”

He couldn’t even drink broth that night. Ripper finished the cup itself. When they had showered they crawled into bed with him under the covers, wearing boxers and a loose tee shirt with the name of a college they’d never been to on it. They pressed up close to his burning body, arm carefully over his belly so that they could feel him breathe.

“Starting to feel floaty,” Robert said. “I don’t think it’ll be long.”

“Sh,” Ripper said. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

Robert turned his face into their shoulder. He stayed that way for a long time, his labored breathing loud in the dark room. Ripper held onto him, thumb stroking one of the only unbruised parts of his side, listening to each breath get farther apart.

It was sure he would be dead before morning, that it would one moment be holding a living man and the next moment a corpse. That was bad, but it had done that before in a way that had been much worse. This couldn’t pay for that, but it could at least make it easier for Robert than it had been for Blackknife.

But that wasn’t how it happened.

Ripper snapped awake, arm tightening. Something in the sound of the room had changed. It could feel Robert still breathing –

But it could barely hear him. It lay still for a while, listening, but he had stopped wheezing. Under their arm he breathed easily and regularly, without a hint of obstruction. That couldn’t be. They sat up on one elbow. Robert let his cheek be slid onto the pillow with a small mumble of protest, bur he didn’t wake up. That let Ripper turn far enough to grope around for the hoodie with the smartphone in the pocket. Then it turned the dim half-light of the screen on Robert’s face.

His eyelids were a little dark, but they were smooth, barely swollen. His face was no longer swollen at all, the line of his jaw straight and perfect. His nose was still crooked. Ripper tugged the covers down from his chest to look at his ribcage and was staring dumbfounded at the unbroken and unmarked skin when something hit it so hard in the chest it was knocked backward off the bed.

It knew just enough to cover its head with its arms before it hit the rugs. The phone went flying. Ripper curled on its side, gasping, wondering if its sternum had cracked. Spots danced in front of its eyes, blacker against the black.

“Ripper? Ripper?? Shit!” It was a new voice now. Still a little rough, but strong, definite. They heard Robert slide off the bed, and then felt him scoop them up against his body as if they weighed almost nothing, pulling them into the vee of his legs. “Hey, talk to me. Are you okay? Is anything broken?” He patted at their chest, producing a protesting hiss but no shift of cracked bone. “Fuck. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean -”

“Robert,” it panted.

“Yeah.”

“ Are you better?”

“Yeah. It wore off, finally,” he said.

“Oh. Good,” Ripper said. It let its head rest against a more muscular shoulder than it remembered. Robert was saying something else, shaking them a little, but that was all right. Robert was all right. The thing inside that burned felt farther away...

Ripper felt themselves turning into dead weight, heavy and limp, but it didn't feel important. The world had gone soft and dark.

Part 5

[intercoursefluids]

Well That Happened Chapter 8

Marinette grunted, hauling the guy behind a wall; he was heavy, like deceptively heavy.

Marinette fell back, tripping over a rock as he fell on top of her.

He groaned, a hand slowly moving up to his head before stopping midway as he rolled over to throw up.

“Okay, that was rough, you probably have a concussion.” Marinette said, tapping on her comm.

“Hey guys? I thought the akuma was a fairy god mother? And that you guys had her contained? Anyone want to explain?” She asked, gritting her teeth as she tried to shuffle her concussed partner further to cover.

“Hey, Princess! So turns out it was a double akumatization, a pair of siblings from the States. I’m going to guess you found the brother? Need any back up?” Chat Noir’s cheery voice answered from the comm.

Marinette sighed in relief, one hand feeling the back of her partner’s head for his injury.

“Some back up would be appreciated, Chat. My partner needs medical and he’s to heavy for me to carry alone.” Marinette winced as she found the knot on the back of his head, pulling her hand away to see it covered in blood.

That wasn’t good…

Chat confirmed that he was on his way, promising to be there shortly as he signed off.

Marinette looked back down at her partner, noticing his eyes starting to flutter shut.

“Nope, nope nope nope. Eyes on me, Pretty Boy. I need you to stay awake.” Marinette told him frantically, gently slapping his cheeks until he met her eyes.

“Pretty Boy…?” He asked, his head lolling to the side slightly.

“I don’t know your name, you’re pretty. I feel like it’s self explanatory.” She explained, tugging on hi arms to get him to sit up straight.

He obliged her, shuffling himself until his back as pressed against the wall.

“Forgive me for not realizing sooner, I have a concussion.” He sassed her, the impact of it was weakened by how he slurred the words.

“How do you know you have a concussion, you could just be a bit dizzy.” Marinette tried to reassure him.

He absolutely had a concussion, but he didn’t need to know that. It might make him panic.

“I know what a concussion feels like.” He answered, his eyes slipping closed before they flew open again. He blinked quickly, rubbing his eyes and pressing his hand to his forehead with a groan.

“Why do you know what a concussion feels like?” Marinette asked, trying to draw his attention back to her.

He looked at her curiously for a moment before slowly answering.

“I have siblings. Of course I know what concussion feels like.” He answered, starting to slouch before catching himself and readjusting, again.

“I’m an only child, that means nothing to me. How many siblings do you have?” She asked, he was still awake, which was good.

He started at her blankly for a few minutes, which was slightly concerning, before he blinked.

“I’m… not sure? There’s a few of them. I used to be an only child, but my father took other peoples kids and brought them home. So now I have siblings.” He replied, looking slightly dazed.

Marinette was… She wanted to say concerned but that didn’t seem quite right.

“What do you mean by that? How did your dad take other people’s kids?” This one wasn’t a question just to keep him awake, she wanted an actual answer for this one. She was confused, curious, and concerned.

He looked frustrated.

“He took them and brought them home, they stayed so I have siblings.” He said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Marinette scratched her head, wondering how to explain her confusion to him when he was concussed.

“That’s… Not exactly, normal? People don’t usually just take other people’s children so their kids have siblings, Pretty Boy.” She tried to gently explain.

He pouted, glaring at her.

“It’s not weird. People do it all the time.” He stated resolutely.

Marinette was just about to answer when chat touched down, followed by a turtle and ladybug she had yet to meet.

“He means adoption.” The turtle said as he reached them.

He was big, tall and bulky. The ladybug was tall too, but she seemed to have more lithe muscle than him.

“Hey Dames, hows the head?” The ladybug healer asked as she bent down to examine him.

He leaned towards her, his head thunking against her shoulder as she ran her hands through his hair, looking for the injury.

“Bad.” He answered, letting her check him.

The turtle turned to her, holding out his hand.

“I’m Jason, that’s Stephanie-” Stephanie cut him off with a “Just call me Steph!”

“Anyway,” He continued. “We are Damian’s family, Chat told us what happened so we came to help.”

Marinette nodded, accepting the answer.

“So he meant that you guys were adopted, not kidnapped. Good to know. I’m Marinette.” She shook his hand, turning towards Chat, who had been uncharacteristically quiet.

“So, any updates for me, Alley Cat?” She nudged, waiting for his “I have a pedigree!” response.

He didn’t give her the response she was expecting.

“I think… I might have figured out what the akumas do, or at least what they have been doing so far…” He said, intensely glancing back and forth between her and new her partner.

“And that is…?” She urged him.

He walked over to her, pulling out his staff and opening the phone on it.

“I want to test something before I say anything for certain, can you come here real quick?” He asked her.

Marinette followed him, letting him push her down until she was sitting back to back with her partner.

He handed her his staff, the screen pulled up to show lyrics to a song she had never heard of.

“Sing this.” He told her.

She raised and eyebrow as he started to move her hair but did as he said.

If this was just a joke she would ask Piáo Chóng if she could borrow her miraculous to tie Chat to the Eiffel Tower.

Marinette cleared her throat and began to sing.

She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to sing it, like an opera or a rap? Regardless, it didn’t seem to matter as her hair began to glow a bright blue.

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[achangeinreality]

Okay Part 4!! I’m struggling with links right now (they’re getting super messed up) so if you want to check out part 1, it’s pinned on my blog and that has the links to part 2&3. Thanks, enjoy!

Encounters Part 4

July 24, 2552

0500

Ding. Ira groaned at the sound that woke her up so early. She wasn’t normally awake until 0600 hours and always cherished any little sleep she could get. After all, Ira could be in deep sleep and still be woken up by a fly on a wall. But as she rolled over to check her datapad for whatever the cause of her early wakefulness was, she felt a surge of energy course through her as she saw: S-058. Ira opened up the encrypted message which read, Good morning. Ira looked at the message and smiled. Then she looked at the top of her screen to see urgent notifications. She opened up her emails to find an encrypted email sent to all ODST team leaders notifying an emergency meeting to be set for that day at 0700 hours. She replied back to her: Good morning! I hope you slept well. A few minutes went by as Ira went through the rest of her emails and notifications. Ding. S-058: Yes, I slept fine. How are you? Ira replied with, I am happy to wake up to a message from you.

Ira giggled a little to herself after hitting send. The day that Linda had shipped out, Ira was devastated. She had spent the day moping around and finding comfort in the bullet that she now carried on herself at all times. Though, a message from the now Gunnery Sergeant Sila Gutierrez also helped. Sila had messaged her, Hey, Happy belated birthday! Sorry for the late message, I just got back today from the jungle. We had no damn connection other than local comms. Hope you had a good birthday! Sila had done exceedingly well in her career, having continued to climb the ranks throughout the years. She was often unavailable to talk however as she was often sent on lengthy operations. But Sila always responded to messages, even if it was a few weeks late sometimes. Ira considered calling Sila to vent about her romantic mishaps but did not want to bother her. After a few minutes, Ira decided she had no one else to vent to who could understand where she was coming from and initiated a video connection with her.

”Ira! You look good! What’s up? How was your birthday?”- Sila

”Hey Sergeant [insert salute] thank you, thank you. You look alright I guess. My birthday was good. How was the jungle?- Ira

”Hey take that slander elsewhere! But yeah no it was fucking awful. I’m covered in bites on every possible inch of my body.- Sila

”Oh god that sucks, I don’t envy you. But hey uh can I talk to you about something?”- Ira

”Yeah, what is it? What’d you do this time?”- Sila

”You can’t tell a soul. It’s nothing illegal, but it is super personal,”- Ira

”As long as it’s not court marshal worthy I won’t say a word,” -Sila

”No of course it’s not. But uh, well…. Do you remember Spartan 058… you know, the Spartan that saved us on Draco III?”

”You mean the one that you hit on while you were high and then tried again the next day and failed again?” -Sila

[Through gritted teeth] “Yes that one.”- Ira

”What did you do?” -Sila

”Uh…. I ran into her and tried again.” -Ira

”Dude are you actually numb? Like do you need a brain scan? Cuz I can’t believe what just came out of your mouth. Is this like a weird humiliation kink?” Sila

”EW no! No it was different this time, hear me out. I was on Sigma Octanus IV, came back, was standing around with my team, when all of a sudden I hear my name. I turn around and she’s right there! She remembered me! So then she asks to meet with me in the mess hall at 2100 hours and obviously I said yes. So-

“Wait wait wait wait, she saw you and recognized you? But you’ve gotten so old and ugly since the last time she saw you, how is that possible?” -Sila

”Hahaha very funny, jokes on you, you’re older! Anyway, I get there and she starts talking to me, tells me her name. It’s Linda by the way. And I’m trying to keep my chill but you know me, I kept embarrassing myself. Anyway, I invite her to my birthday and she says yes. Then she called me out on my big ass pupils and I thought, well the gig is up, fuck it. So I tell her I’m attracted to her and she did not respond well. But I called her out too and said, hey your pupils have been blown this whole time, what’s up with that? Obviously that also didn’t go well either and she said this wasn’t going to go anywhere and left. SO- Ira

”Oh my god you sly sick bitch. Damn you called out a Spartan? And accused her of having the hots for you on top of that? Let me take notes, damn. Anyway, continue- Sila

”Yeah I know I’m a little unhinged but anyways, get this. She comes to the party!! She actually shows up even after all of that!- Ira

”OOOOOO she came?? Girl she’s in trouble that’s all bad. Wow I’m so proud of you! So what’s the problem then?” -Sila

”Well, it was all good and she even gave me a present that she customized for me. It was so sweet I almost started crying. So then she says she wants to talk to me in private and here I was thinking I was about to win the universal lottery. But then we go to my room and she says, “My purpose is to be a Spartan so this isn’t something I can entertain. I want to stay as friends.”- Ira

”Ohhhh come onnn. No no no no, Ira no, that’s so bad! Wait, what was the present?”- Sila

”I’m not telling you it’s personal! But regardless, she tells me that-“ Ira

”No! What was the present? You’re already telling me the whole hoot and holler, what’s one more detail?” -Sila

”Don’t tell anyone about it,”- Ira

”I already said I’m not opening my mouth about any of this,” -Sila

Ira pulled the bullet out of her pocket and shined it with the cloth that it came wrapped in. She put it up to the screen and then put it close up to the camera so that the words were legible enough for Sila, despite showing up backwards through the video. Sila said nothing while deciphering it and then gasped.

”Oh honey. Oh lord. Oh my god she likes you too,”- Sila

”Do you think so?” -Ira

”No I don’t fucking think so, I know so. That’s such a genuine thing to do. Wow go Linda! Okay so what’s the current update on this?” -Sila

”That’s it. She shipped out this morning to Reach.” -Ira

”Oh you sad sop I bet you’ve just been moping around, woe is me-ing all day huh? Well let me tell you something. It sounds like if you keep pushing it, you’re gonna be entering a whole world of pain. Even if you did enter into a relationship, you would always be her 2nd priority. She clearly values her position very highly,” -Sila

Ira said nothing for a second. Just sat in silence until she nodded in agreement slowly.

”But I know you’re stubborn and your audacity knows no bounds so let me follow up with, if you’re going to push it, I can see a sliver of success.” -Sila

”Really? How?”- Ira

”Well she obviously likes you but she’s way up in the ranks so this is super unorthodox in the UNSC. If you can find a way to stay in contact, you might be too difficult to forget. But, don’t make the first move. You’ve already done the heavy lifting of a lifetime with this. Lay low for a few days and then throw a fishing line in if you’ve only gotten comm silence.” -Sila

“I guess I don’t really have anything else to go on. Thanks Sila, I knew you’d say something helpful.” -Ira

”Yeah well don’t say I didn’t warn you if it all goes tits up. But hey I gotta go, I’m getting summoned to debriefing. I hope it all goes well, keep me posted, bye!”- Sila. Ira waved goodbye as the video chat ended.

This conversation had taken place 3 days ago. It helped Ira feel infinitely less alone knowing that someone in the universe cared to hear her woes, a luxury that many people didn’t have. The next day came and went, and Ira focused on her team. They were excellent, but their newest recruit, Richard, had some difficulty collaborating with the team. Oftentimes, any mistakes or issues that they had encountered on the battlefield originated from a lack of communication and this was something that Ira hoped to tackle. Ira had come up with an exercise: Everyone one, except one person, would be blindfolded and tied to each other with a rope that allowed 3 ft in between. The person in the front would not be blindfolded but still tied. It would be their job to scout the room for hidden, but visually findable booby traps that Ira had asked an outside personnel to rig. The traps were lightly painful but non-lethal and the goal was to make it around the room without setting off one. The person in the front then had to pass down where and how to step around to the person behind. That person would then pass it down, until it reached the end. They would all take turns being the person in the front and Ira would give them 2 tries each to get it right once. The exercise had been going well, most of her team members succeeded at least once. Only Richard had failed twice. To say that he threw a fit was to put it lightly.

”This is fucking dumb Corporal, why did I even need to participate in this? Is this some sort of hazing ritual?”, he exclaimed. “We are doing this to improve our communication skills. Over the last few skirmishes that we’ve been in, there’s been mistakes left and right. It’s my job to make sure we improve,” Ira replied sternly but evenly. Richard continued. “But why this? Why can’t we just watch our tapes back and learn that way?”

“We tried that already and it didn’t work. It’s like all my pointers went in through one ear and out the other. I have talked to you about this before, you’re our weakest link. You’re impulsive on the battlefield and disregard every other order. That shit won’t fly much longer so I’m giving you the chance to improve,” Ira stated. The rest of the team did their best to look uninterested but Ira could tell they were all intently listening. “Oh okay communication is my issue then alright. Maybe I’ll take a little lesson from you and that Spartan that you’ve been fooling around with. You two sure seem to have plenty to talk about,” Richard shot back. Absolute silence filled the room. You could have heard a pin drop and locate its exact location after that comment.

“Excuse me? I don’t think you understand your position, trooper. My personal life is of no concern to you and if I ever hear you voicing any sort of comment on it, I will personally make sure that you never drop from a pod again. Do I make myself clear?” Ira’s tone could have cut glass. Her stare was cold, unwavering, and occupied with an empty, soulless void that threatened to consume him if he spoke anything other than “yes, sir”. Richard seemed to shrink in size and looked anywhere but back at her. “Yes, sir,” he replied quietly, still looking away. “Good. And unless you show improvement on our next mission, you will not remain on this team. Dismissed,” Ira barked. Everyone shuffled out of the room uncomfortably. Rachel stayed back after everyone had left to say, ”So… we’ve all been wondering something. This is probably not the best time but I’m gonna ask anyway,” Ira glared at Rachel, knowing exactly what the question was going to be. “I’m gonna stop you right there Datz. Go, that’s an order,” she seethed. Rachel put her hands up and scuffled out. Ira sighed, knowing damn well the topic of conversation amongst her team was going to be ‘what’s up with the corporal and that Spartan?’ And the answer was, nothing. Absolutely fuckig nothing, that’s the problem. Nothing was going on between her and the Spartan. She leaned against the wall and covered her eyes. Get a grip you idiot, she thought.

Ira was walking to the showers when she heard a Ding! Looking over at her data pad, her jaw dropped to the floor upon seeing the name of the recipient: S-058. She opened the message up and read, Hello, I am hoping you are well. Ira fervently typed back, Hi! I am now. And yourself?

This had been the beginning of their back and forth messaging which had now been going on for 2 days. It was only 5-6 messages a day, but they meant the world to her. So really, being woken up a little too early to the first one of the day wasn’t too bad at all. She was mostly surprised to have received any sort of communication. But for now, she had to start her day and see what this meeting was all about.

I am happy to wake up to a message from you.- Ira

Linda felt her eyes widen a little at the message and an increasingly more familiar warmth radiate in her chest. It had been 2 days since Linda gave into the nagging thoughts and decided to reach out to Ira. She knew it wasn’t necessarily a good idea but managed to convince herself that this was how to maintain a good friendship. Kelly was the only one who knew that Linda was in communication with Ira. She had given her an approving look at the news.

”Glad to know my advice is taken seriously around these parts,” Kelly touted. Linda rolled her eyes and replied, “Yeah alright settle down. We’re just friends.” Kelly huffed loudly but said nothing else. Later that day when they were finishing up at the shooting range, Kelly had asked, “So how’s the friendship going?” Linda looked around annoyed to make sure that no one was listening to them. She answered back, “It’s going fine. Do you need an hourly update?”

”I’m just saying, I’d support a partnership. I know some of the others wouldn’t approve but since when do you care what others think?,” Kelly pressed. Linda sat down at one of the tables nearby to take her sniper apart. Taking the weapon apart to clean it was incredibly soothing for her. Focusing on that made it easier to have this conversation. “Kelly I know you mean well but you can’t be serious. There are so many reasons to not go there with her. Not to mention I’m 13 years older than her. I don’t know much about this stuff but I know that’s weird,” Linda stated. Kelly snorted at the comment and said, “First off, we’re not ancient. Secondly, I don’t think that’s an issue she’s concerned over, otherwise she probably wouldn’t be all heart eyes over you. Fuck the rules anyway you’re both adults.”

”Exactly, I’m an adult and I’m making a responsible, adult decision to keep her at an arm’s length. It’s the best decision for the both of us,” Linda continued, firmly. Her tone was even but Kelly could tell that she was tense. Regardless, she pushed back, “Well she’s an adult too and I’m sure she knows what she wants.” At that, Kelly walked out of the room, leaving Linda to continue her cleaning. Click, click, click, snap, snap, click. The pieces all fit back together perfectly and cleanly. If only her current situation was so easily assembled.

She needed to meditate and there were too many people around. So, Linda made her way to the base’s quiet room. This was where soldiers and military personnel could go to pray, soak in silence, or meditate in Linda’s case. Not every station or base that she went to had one of these but when it did, Linda was grateful for it. Linda’s home base on Reach had everything she could want and this was one of her favorites. The room was different in more ways than one. It had a skylight that allowed sunlight to gleam through and illuminate the room softly during the day and moonlight during the night. The corners of the room however, remained in shadow. This was the only room on the base that did not have any artificial lighting and it brought a certain peace to the atmosphere, unlike any she had experienced before. Linda grabbed a mat off the shelf and sat in the back right corner of the room. She sat down and closed her eyes, breathing slowly, feeling her mind lifting off.

1200 hours

Kelly finished her run. These new headphones that she had gotten amazed her, as they had managed to stay on her head the entire time. Music was a joy that Kelly had discovered years ago. It allowed her to stay focused and pushed her to move faster and faster. According to John, her choice of ‘classic rock’ was archaic and noisy but she liked noisy! Better to have catchy lyrics blended with ‘noisy’ drums and guitar sounds as opposed to screaming, explosions, and death. The sounds of war. Though the sounds of gunfire weren’t necessarily ugly to her. They were, in a weird and sad way, comforting to her. Not comforting in a conventional way but rather, in a predictable way. In other words, Kelly knew where gunfire came from and what it did. She could distinguish the type of weapon that every gunshot came from and smell their differences. This was not necessarily an exceptional ability but rather one shared between many of her siblings. And right now, there were too many new and uncertain things happening that Kelly didn’t have explanations for.

In the last 24 hours, Kelly had grown concerned about Linda. Linda, it appeared, had grown oddly attached to Corporal Ira Hagan, ODST. Kelly had done some digging into Hagan’s file and found some impressive accomplishments. Upon further investigation (light hacking), she found a concerning detail about her. The Corporal had been subject to several psych evals. Not a good thing in their line of work, or probably in any. The cause for the several evals was…. REDACTED. How interesting, she thought. What could the Corporal have done to receive so many psych evals and then the reason for them be redacted? Moreover, should she tell Linda? Maybe not yet, after all, Kelly had encouraged Linda to reach out and embrace a ‘friendship’ with Hagan. She wanted to be on their side and support whatever this was, but Kelly couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about Hagan. And here was the proof! But maybe it was a misunderstanding, maybe she was looking too much into it. And right now, she had nothing else to go on.

Kelly wandered into the mess hall, looking around for Fred-104. He was serving himself whatever horrible soup was getting served that day. Kelly always hated soup. She wandered over and sniffed it, feeling a nausea in her stomach.

“What do you want, soup hater?,” Fred inquired dryly. Kelly signed to him, need to talk. He lifted an eyebrow and looked at her, signing back, urgent? Kelly rolled her eyes and said out loud, “What do you think?” Fred sighed and asked, “I’ll eat, you talk.” They went over to the most secluded table in the mess hall that they could find. Regardless, it was full at the moment and so, it was improbable that others would hear their conversation. Kelly sat down and waited for Fred to start eating. She thought about how to phrase her question. Fred asked, “Well?” Kelly leaned back in her chair and asked, “Do you remember Margaret-053 and Otto-031?” Fred looked at her seriously but said nothing. He swallowed the next spoonful of soup and answered, “Of course, Black Team. Excellent Spartans.” Kelly’s face dropped and she looked at him in annoyment, “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Fred sighed loudly and replied, “What’s your point? Why are you bringing that up?” Fred was of course talking about the incident when they were kids where the 2 aforementioned Spartans were found out to be entangled with one another. The rest of the Spartans did not take kindly to the news and well, essentially assaulted the pair. The fight had ended with Margaret losing an eye and retaliation on behalf of Black team which then ended in 2 more weeks of trouble for everyone.

The motivation behind the attack had been a misplaced belief that the Spartans had not been taking their training seriously. This of course came from the brainwashed idea they held at the time that any semblance of romance was a detriment to them all. That was until Kelly grew up and could see that the instilled belief had been a way to control them and further them away from their humanity. It was effective of course, for to be attached to someone else romantically was to be distracted from their missions partially. And as weapons, that just wouldn’t do. Still though, when Maria-062 retired to create a family of her own, it made Kelly stop and think. What could compel someone like her to turn away from their purpose and create her own? It seemed that love indeed was a powerful motivator, and their instructors were right to steer them clear of it. But instead of erasing Maria from her memory, Kelly felt an enormous amount of respect for her. For though the life of a Spartan was the only one Kelly could want, who was she to judge another for wanting more? She certainly had had her fair share of little crushes here and there but couldn’t ever act on those feelings. There just wasn’t ever any time for that. And people were too scared of her and the other Spartans to ever initiate conversation anyway. Kelly couldn’t blame them of course, but it got lonely at times. So when she heard Private Hagan admit to Linda that regardless of their circumstances or rank, she would have still called her pretty, Kelly was flabbergasted. Not only did this Private have the chutzpah to hit on a Spartan twice, but Linda’s lack of response had been very telling. If she truly had no interest in this woman, surely she would have reprimanded her or sent an official complaint to her new team lead. At least a write up or something. But instead, she was frazzled into silence. Linda wasn’t one to get cowed, the woman was incredibly scary. Kelly’s suspicions had only been reaffirmed when 8 years later, aka a few days ago, Linda had come to vent about a very personal meeting she had had with a certain Corporal.

“You don’t still feel that way about relationships right?,” Kelly finally responded. Fred looked even more confused now but replied, “No not entirely. I think we were immature at the time but- wait why are you asking me this stuff?”

”Humor me. Say hypothetically, this was happening now, and you found out that Otto had a lot of psych evals but the information on those were redacted, what would you do? Would you tell Margaret or dig deeper?,” Kelly inquired. Fred looked beyond annoyed at this point but rolled his eyes and answered back, “I wouldn’t get involved.” Kelly exhaled exasperatedly and said, “No you have to answer, just humor me.” Fred thought for a few seconds and replied, “Well, telling Margaret would only lead to her asking Otto about it and he can’t talk since the information is redacted so then he’d be compromised. I suppose I’d dig deeper then.” Kelly smiled at him, content with the answer. She stood up and said, “Enjoy your soup, I’m going on another run.” Fred frowned and yelled, “Wait no what’s going on?!” But it was too late. Kelly had already sped out of the room as quickly as she had come, leaving Fred to wonder, do I even wanna know?

[liquidstar]

When I was 7 I had mild surgery and was under "twilight anesthesia" which means I was awake but sedated enough that I don't remember anything at all. But it's weird, because my mom says that the whole time I was begging the doctors to stop and was crying that hurts, but otherwise I couldn't move. Again I don't remember this at all, and I'm going to assume this is normal because the doctors continued on. Otherwise I'm sure the would have been like "oh fuck the kid's still awake give it more drugs." But I also remember these dreams I had about the doctors, not of the actual surgery but, like, fever dreams that felt the same as waking up from a nap. None were of surgery, they were more abstract I guess. So it just makes me wonder how much of that my brain has processed subconsciously while in that state. Because I remember the dreams.

Like, I'm fine and don't really have lasting medical trauma really (dental stuff is an obsession, but this wasn't a dental procedure so it's unrelated). Still though like I really can't help but wonder if in the deep recesses of my mind I remember surgery being done on me and crying for it to stop. It would have probably been the worst physical pain I ever experienced, and I don't remember it, but I was at least semi aware in the moment. How much of that moment is still in my mind? Not that I want to remember it, but I wanna know if there's like writing on this or if people had similar experiences and such. It's something I Ponder

[nerdragenewvegas]

So I watched Secret Life of Mormon Wives

I know this isn't like, Fallout, but I guess Mormon stuff is kinda adjacent and I have ex-mo and Joshua graham-fuckers following so what the fuck ever.

I want to preface this by making it clear that I don't actually have a problem with any of the women on this show (except Whitney. Get some fucking therapy, Whitney, jesus chriiiist.) I actually quite like the cast and I really enjoyed watching them! They're funny and interesting and well spoken and intelligent, and I think that when a lot of them inevitably deconstruct in the future, they're going to be really great sources of guidance for others looking to deconstruct. I'm excited for them.

But I gotta say, as an exmo, I am so fucking offended by the double standards. Am I saying I want these women to be excommunicated? Absolutely fucking not. But am I saying that there's clear 'relaxed' versions of rules for notable or rich mormons that other mormons don't get to enjoy? Yes, and it's frustrating as fuck.

I cannot possibly imagine what it's like to be a married mother in the church who has spent however long suffering the shame and guilt of not being a 'perfect' mother and wife (and god, if you thought the general societal pressure on women was bad, in the LDS church it's on steroids because being a perfect mother and wife is a religious expectation according to doctrine) watching these women not wear garments and fuck around on the sabbath and drink and wear bikinis and not face any kind of discipline from the church.

I cannot even begin to fathom what it must be like to be someone in the church who has been shamed or isolated or even cut off from family and friends for breaking a covenant by doing something like having a sexual encounter before marriage or drinking a beer at a party, and watching these women drink vodka in hot-tubs and go to chippendales and talk about swapping partners on television and get away with it. These are all normal things for a human being to do, but in the Mormon church? No. You end up in a meeting with your bishop about that.

When I converted, as part of my baptism process, I had to make a few extra covenants with God based on things I had done before finding the church. I made a covenant with god that I would not live with any men I wasn't married or related to in the future (unless my Bishop approved of it because even the Church understands the economy is wack, I guess, but boyfriends were a hard no.) I made a covenant to god that I would adhere to the word of wisdom from then on (which means no more alcohol, smoking, coffee etc.) Because I had tattoos, I made a covenant with god that I would not get any more of them in the future.

Let me tell you how fucking pissed I was to see one of the women in this show get a fucking tattoo while wearing her young women's medallion. Are you fucking kidding me?!

When I met the man who became my husband, I was still in a weird position where I was drifting from the church but still believed in the core doctrine and would still practice parts of it and visit chapel for special occasions, when friends gave testimony etc. It's a long story but my husband was in a polycule at the time (we are no longer in a polycule for the record) and the church's stance on that is super clear: polyamory, even without marriage, is considered just as bad as polygamy and is an auto excommunication if you're discovered. I had to hide my relationship from my family for a very long time, even after I moved in with him, because I knew I would be excommunicated if my mormon side of the family found out. I ended up moving in with him because that's just how the economy went and we needed somewhere to live -- and I would lay awake in tears having a spiritual fucking crisis because not only was I basically doing polygamy in God's eyes, but I was living with him outside of marriage. And fucking. That too. That was also bad in god's eyes. But anyway.

During one of these episodes, a couple of the women re-enact someone else's piss-play story. I am not joking. They straight up talk about pissplay. One of the women gets a labiaplasty and straight up pulls her pants down to show her coochie off to her friends during recovery. One of the cast members is pregnant outside of marriage and living with her partner and refuses to marry him, which is a point of contention between them.

As of yet, there's been no indication that any of the cast has faced excommunication or any disciplinary action. And, again, I don't want them to, but at the same time? This is so incredibly unfair to so many people. One set of rules for notable mormons who are handing over fat tithing envelopes, another for everyone else.

This is going to cause so many more deconstructions. If I were still in, this would fucking break me.

[morganski-19]

With A Comma After Dearest Part 5

part 1, part 4

Robin feels great. It’s the first time in weeks that she’s woken up from the sound of her alarm, and not from a nightmare. It’s the first time in weeks that she’s slept for more than four hours. She doesn’t know how it happened, but when a miracle happens, no one dares question it, so why would she? No, instead she’s going to grab the miracle by the throat and make the most of her day. And maybe not look like shit for once. 

She looks in her closet, taking time to pick out an outfit instead of just grabbing whatever looks the comfiest. She takes a shower and even makes herself an actual breakfast instead of a piece of toast. It might make her almost late for school, but it’s the first time that she feels like herself again. 

When she comes barreling out the door and into the passenger seat of Steve’s car, ready to start doing her makeup in the sunshade mirror, Steve is too busy glaring at her to start the car. 

“What?” She asks, ready to go for once. 

“You’re wearing jeans, and an actual shirt.”

She does a quick glance at her outfit, not seeing anything wrong with it. As if he has any say in what she should wear anyway. “Yeah, what about it?”

“You’re not wearing sweats.”

“Oh. No, I’m not. I actually slept last night, I guess.”

His face breaks out in a soft smile. “Hey, that’s good.”

“Yeah, I guess it is. Now come on, I don’t need another tardy trying to hinder me from graduating, go.”

“I’m going, alright, Jeez.”

. . . 

Robin looks different. Not a bad different, Nancy thinks. A good different if anything. She looks, awake, refreshed. She looks herself, if that’s what herself looks like. 

Nancy doesn’t really have a lot to base it off of, the only knowledge she had of the way Robin would normally carry herself was in the one week they knew each other. And even then, there were other factors that would have hindered the way she did. She looks confident, happy. She looks like Robin. 

Her eyes can’t help but follow Robin as she walks down the hall and into her classroom. It’s captivating. There’s nothing that’s really changed that much, but it draws her in. Like that time in the library but tenfold. 

There’s still no good explanation that Nancy has for that moment. She’s chalked it up to the fact that she had gotten less sleep that night and just zoned out because of it. Because there was nothing else in her mind that could have been the reason for it. There couldn’t be. Nancy had already gone down a whole road of self-discovery in the past few years and she had already reached the end of it, there was no way that more could be ahead of her. 

She knew who she was, that was unchanging. There was nothing more to that. 

. . . 

The beautiful Robin,

Hope that isn’t too weird or anything, it’s generally just a compliment. Anyway, I saw you walking through the halls and just wanted to tell you how good you looked today. I can’t really describe it but you just look more yourself. I like it, reminds me a little bit of when we first met.

More importantly, I guess, is that you looked more awake. Which could just be a complete illusion, but I’m choosing to believe that meant you got a good night's sleep. Which, yay, congrats. The first nightmare free night normally gives you a sense of false hope, but it means that you’re going in the right direction. 

That’s the whole purpose of the note. I just thought you looked good and deserved to know it. 

Grateful to see you more yourself, 

Nancy

Robin can’t breathe. Whatever air was in her lungs was immediately punched out of her chest with the first three words. 

Nancy thinks she’s beautiful. Which she really shouldn’t construe in any way that isn’t just a platonic compliment, but how can she? It’s right there, written on paper. A written confirmation that Nancy thinks that Robin is beautiful. Nancy claims it’s just a compliment, which objectively it is, and Robin knows that she didn’t mean it in a way that’s romantic. But with everything else written, her heart can’t help but start beating faster. 

She noticed things about Robin. Not just like today, but before they were even this close. Noticed the change in the way Robin dressed based on one, maybe two outfits that she had seen prior. Noticed the way that she’s actually awake, carrying herself the way she normally would instead of hunching over and shuffling to class. There was a beat to her steps again, and Nancy noticed it. 

It’s not the most surprising thing in the world, Nancy’s a pretty observant person. And if the roles were reversed, Robin would notice the same thing. But that’s because she’s different. Despite her best efforts, she looks at Nancy differently than Nancy views her. It’s something she can’t control, but that’s just the way the cards fell. Her heart picked up without her brain being able to stop it, and she hasn’t been able to stop it yet. 

So it’s supposed to be Robin who picks up on the minuscule details, not Nancy. Even if the things that she noticed weren’t exactly minuscule. But they were still less noticeable to anyone who didn’t know her. 

Maybe she’s just blowing this out of proportion. She’s obviously dressed differently than the way she was for the last few weeks. And even though she’s still been able to put on some sort of makeup to make the bags of her eyes look less, it’s better applied today, clearer. Even Steve noticed that things were different. Yet, he still didn’t call her beautiful, only Nancy did.

. . . 

The beautiful Nancy,

Look I’m copying you now. Not exactly like it’s false though, anyone with eyes would notice that you’re beautiful. But you complimented me so I feel like I should compliment you. So I did. 

Thank you for your compliment, I really appreciated it. Steve kinda had the same reaction this morning, without the beautiful comment because that would have been super weird coming from him, to be honest. But when I got in the car this morning, he was too busy giving me a weird look, and I mean weird as in weirded out and not because I couldn’t figure out what the look meant, to start the car and bring me to school. Something about me wearing jeans and an actual shirt instead of a hoodie. I personally don’t see anything wrong with because the hoodie I have is very comfortable, and he should know, I stole it from him. 

I hope that’s not too weird. I know it’s traditional for girlfriends to steal their boyfriend’s hoodie and shit, but I feel like that could also be a best friend thing. Especially since there is no shred of attraction between us because, ew gross. I don’t need to prove it to you again because we already told you, but platonic with a capital P. And he stole one of my jackets before so it’s not like it’s just a me thing.

Anyway, I’m rambling again, but in word form. Not that I don’t normally ramble in a non-word form, I guess this is just a written word form. Whatever

Just wanted to thank you for the compliment and return the favor,

Robin

If anyone asked Nancy what was in the note passed the first paragraph, she wouldn’t be able to tell them. It’s not like she didn’t read it, she always reads whatever Robin gives her, even going back to make sure she didn’t miss a word. But this time, here eyes only find those words. 

Nancy’s been told that she was beautiful before. It wasn’t exactly something that she paid mind to, just accepted the comment and moved on. Compliments rolled off of Nancy like a wave, letting her soak in the moment but then receding back to where they came from. Never sticking around long enough for Nancy to believe it for too long. It’s not that she didn’t think she was good-looking, or even pretty. There were always just things about her that she didn’t think were beautiful, or that compared to someone else, they would be more beautiful than her.

So when someone called her beautiful, the feeling that it gave her was only temporary, the insecurities of it all flooding back in to strip it away. But when Robin wrote the words, it was the first time she heard someone say it and believed it. It’s not to say that the other people who called her beautiful were wrong, or didn’t make her feel that way. It’s just when Robin wrote it, it felt more real. 

The thing about Robin is that she’s honest. Nancy only saw her lie one time, and even then there was truth to it. Just the wrong truth for the moment. And then, the lie was needed, was necessary to accomplish a goal. It was so much different than other lies. There was something both of them gained and ultimately, no one was really hurt by it. Mildly inconvenienced, maybe, but not hurt. 

Maybe that’s why it feels more real. Robin hasn’t lied to Nancy, not yet, and she has the feeling that she won’t ever. Or at least, not in the way that people have lied to her in the past. Hurt her, misled her. But then, she hurt and misled them too. So maybe it’s because neither Robin nor Nancy has lied to each other yet that the compliment finally sticks. 

Or maybe it’s something completely different, but that leaves Nancy with more questions than answers. So she’ll take the compliment for now and walk away, feeling more confident in herself than normal and not knowing why.

. . . 

Robin fucked up, she knew she fucked up. It’s almost the end of the day and Nancy hasn’t written a note back to her. She overdid it, the comment was too much. She should have just thanked Nancy and moved on, there didn’t need to be anything else. 

But it was so easy. The in was there waiting for her on a silver platter and she took it. It was too easy to pass up. It’s what girls do all the time, don’t they? Get a compliment and then return it the same way. Like “Oh thank you, you’re so pretty too.” That’s the normal response to a compliment, right?

Even then, Nancy’s first compliment wasn’t exactly normal. Going out of her way to write a note dedicated to just how good you looked that day. Was that normal? Was that just Nancy being nice? Was Robin reading into this? Yes, yes she was. 

It’s easy to read into something where the space between the lines is nonexistent. It could have been a sentence at the end of a normal letter. “Oh, by the way, Robin, I saw how you looked today and wanted to say that I really like your outfit. It looks great on you and makes you look more awake. Which yay, sleep.” That’s so easy, that’s normal talk. Robin can do normal talk

But no, Nancy didn’t write that. She wrote out, by hand, that Robin was beautiful.

Robin’s never been called beautiful by someone like Nancy. Her parents and family members, sure but that meant nothing. Guys trying to hit on her not realizing she’s not interested, yes. But none of that was like this and none of that made her feel like this did. None of those times filled Robin with unimaginable warmth and made her want to scream into a pillow. None of those times made her feel it. 

There is something unbelievable about the words from someone held so dear to the other’s heart. It makes them feel important, seen. Nancy’s words hit differently because they weren’t said because they’re family or hoped to get in her pants. They were said because they were believed. Nancy noticed something about Robin from just passing through the hall. So either Robin was really looking like a complete mess every day or Nancy just knew. From one small glance, she knew that Robin had the best sleep possible and woke up feeling like her old self again. Away from the nightmares and the trauma, just Robin being Robin. And Nancy complimented that. 

So when the opportunity presented itself, how could Robin not return the favor? How could she not admit the thought that’s been ringing around her mind since the first note was slid into her locker? Nancy was beautiful, inside and out, how could Robin not tell her that? 

But she did it too much. She should have just left it at the greeting and said that she was just giving it back. But no, she couldn’t just leave it at that. She had to add that anyone with eyes would see that Nancy was beautiful, that she thought Nancy was beautiful. If Nancy read it the way she wrote it, she would know that the eyes that were mentioned were her own. And since she hadn’t received another note since then, that was all that Robin was left to think. 

She thought that saying it and talking about Steve would push focus away from the true meaning of what she wrote, but she guesses that was wrong. 

. . . 

Every time Nancy goes to write a response, she ends up with something stupid. So she erases it and starts over again until there are holes in the page. Tossing the useless paper into the trash, she curses herself for being like this. 

This isn’t normal, not for her. Not with Robin. Talking was easy, but now it’s so hard that Nancy can’t even find one right word to say. It should be simple. Just thank Robin for the compliment and move on, talk about something else. Maybe invite her over to her house for a movie night or something. Just anything to get her and Robin in the same room again, to chase that feeling of being close to someone again. 

To get lost with someone. Feel the incredible warmth that comes from someone who cares for you deeply. Let the moment wrap around like a hug and wish that the person’s arms were around you instead. 

Nancy shakes her head, getting up from her seat and walking to the bathroom. These thoughts weren’t real, they couldn’t be. She just had a late night last night, that’s all. The fact that these were the same thoughts that were keeping her up at night was irrelevant. Robin is her best friend, so that’s why those feelings were there. It had to be. 

Turning on the faucet, she lets the cold water run, just staring at it for a second before cupping some and splashing it on her face. If she was going to make it through the day, she needed to get focused. Just write the next note so Robin doesn’t feel like she’s avoiding her and then go home. Then she can freak out, even though she won’t because there’s nothing to freak out about. 

“Oh, hey, Nancy,” Robin casually says when she comes out of the stall, walking up to the sink next to Nancy.

“Hey. Sorry I haven’t given you another note yet. I know I normally have another one done by this time but I haven’t really had time to write it yet.”

Robin shrugs. “Things come up, I get it. You … you didn’t think I was being weird in the last note, did you? Cause I promise everything was innocent, just wanted to return the compliment and all.”

“Yeah. No, yeah. It was fine, I appreciated it, actually. Wasn’t weird at all.” Nancy swallows, hoping that maybe saying it out loud would make her believe it. 

“Ok, good. I appreciated yours too. Kinda nice to know someone noticed, you know. After all we’ve been through, I didn’t think I’d be able to feel like myself again for a while. So the fact that you noticed it too, made me really happy.” Robin looks at her, smiling and suddenly Nancy can’t breathe. 

“Yeah, your’s did too.”

Suddenly, Robin reaches across and plucks something off of Nancy’s shirt. The soft brush of her fingers sent electricity down Nancy’s arm. “There was a hair,” she says softly. 

Nancy clears her throat. “I should probably head back to class. I’ll talk to you later though, ok.”

“Yeah ok. See you later Nance.”

Her heart is beating out of her chest when she returns to her seat. As she turns her attention back to the lecture, she wills it to stop. Wills the warms of Robin’s brief touch to leave her soul. Prays for the thoughts to stop racing around her mind. Doing what she does best, she pushes them away into a little box and goes back to normal, just knowing that this box will unlock itself again the next time she sees Robin. 

. . . 

My friend Robin,

I noticed something when we were in the bathroom earlier. I don’t have a nickname for you. Not that I need one or anything. You just called me Nance and I know everyone pretty much calls me that but I still like it. 

I was just wondering if there’s a name that you like people to call you other than Robin. I think I’ve heard Steve call you Rob sometimes but I didn’t know if that was just a you two thing or if other people call you that too. Maybe I’m overthinking the whole purpose of a nickname, but whatever. 

Would you want me to call you Rob sometimes? Or how about Robbie? There are not many nicknames for Robin I guess. Or if you don’t really want me to, I can just keep calling you Robin. Just was curious. 

Your friend, 

Nance 

Robin tries to ignore the way that the greeting stings, but she can’t help it. It hurts being called just a friend after the letters they exchanged just that morning. But those were friendly interactions. She has to keep reminding herself that, and every time it hurts more than the last. 

She promised herself that this wasn’t going to go far enough to hurt her this time, but Nancy was making that incredibly hard. 

. . . 

My dear friend Nance,

I don’t really have a lot of specific names that people call me. Steve does call me Rob sometimes and Eddie started calling me Birdie for some reason. Something about my name being a bird’s name, therefore I am a bird. Which I am clearly not but he’s weird so whatever. 

So you can pick anything really. Whatever you want. I did kind of like Robbie though, that’s one that no one’s ever called me before. So if you liked it, then I liked it. I really don’t care that much though.

Interested to see what you will choose, 

Robin 

Nancy doesn’t respond again before the day ends. Mainly because she was running from her last class to her car just to get home, but the reason why is what is bothering her. Ever since meeting with Robin in the bathroom, the only thing that Nancy was looking forward to was going home. Because going home meant going to sleep, which is the reason why she’s feeling the way she is, so tomorrow she’ll wake up normal. And, since it’s a Saturday, she’ll have the whole weekend to fix herself before seeing Robin again. 

If she can go that long without seeing her, that is. That’s the worst part. Even though she’s been feeling weird about everything, she still has the urge to just talk to Robin. It’s unexplainable really. Nancy desperately wants to find the answer, but every time she gets close to thinking what it is, the panic sets in and it’s left unanswered. 

When she gets home, she notices the rental car the Byers have been using parked outside of her house. They’re leaving tomorrow so El and Will have been over a lot. It’s a lot for Mike to go through again. He and El are going through some sort of rough patch, she’s not sure if they’re even still together. But that doesn’t matter, the two people he’s closest to are moving across the country again. That’s hard. 

The first time they moved away, Mike and Nancy talked a lot about missing them. They had a lot in common, having their partners living so far away from them and how hard it was. It was the closest they were for a while.

Jonathan steps out of the car when Nancy pulls in, walking up the drive while she pulls her backpack out of the backseat. 

“Hey,” he says, trying to act like this isn’t awkward. 

“Hey.”

“I just wanted to say goodbye, I guess. Felt weird not to, even after anything.”

Nancy gives him a small smile. “I wouldn’t have held it against you.”

“I, uh, I can send back some of your stuff when I get back if you want.”

“You don’t have to, you can just give it to me when you guys come back.”

Jonathan scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, ok. I’m uh, I’m sorry for snapping at you last time. I was just, getting over it, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I was too.”

“What I’m trying to say, I guess. Is that I’m more over it now, so if you wanted, we could try to be friends again.”

A weight relieves itself from Nancy’s chest. “I would like that.”

The front door opens as Mike, El, and Will exit the house, talking quietly amongst themselves. “Our flight changed, we’re leaving tonight instead of tomorrow.”

“How are they?” Nancy asks and they start to say their goodbyes.

“As well as you could think. I wish we could stay but Mom didn’t want to have us transfer twice in one year. But it’ll only be a few more months.”

“And how are you, really? I didn’t mean for this to happen the way it did.”

Jonathan sighs. “I didn’t either. But, if I’m being honest, I think I would have ended it if you didn’t. Just didn’t want to believe it.”

“I didn’t either.”

“We should get going.”

“Would it be weird if I hugged you?”

He laughs. “I don’t think so.” Nancy opens her arms and hugs him goodbye, as friends this time. “Thank you for being my first love, Nancy.”

“Thank you for letting me be. Have a good time in California, ok.” 

Jonathan smiles. “I will.”

Nancy walks up to the doorstep, waiting for Mike while he finishes up saying goodbye. The hurt that she felt the last time she saw Jonathan faded away, now all that’s left is peace. A part of her will always love him, and she thanks him for that. But now that love is as a friend. They still care for each other, but differently. 

Mike watches as they drive away, only walking back to the house when they’re out of sight. Nancy tries not to notice the dried tear stains down his cheeks. “You, ok?”

“No. I feel like I just got them back and now they're leaving again.”

Nancy pats his shoulder. “They’ll be back, just a few more months.”

“That’s almost worse somehow.” 

“You’ll get through it, I know you will,” she says as they enter the house. 

Hours later, Nancy stares at her ceiling, feeling weird again. That moment in her bathroom replayed in her mind, pushing away sleep. It shouldn’t have bothered her, it shouldn’t be keeping her awake. But like the library, Robin captivated her. But this time it was different, amplified. 

This time Robin touched her. Just faintly but the slight brush of her fingers was enough to send a bolt of electricity that radiated through her body. It was enough to make her freeze and enough to leave her wanting more. Whatever more was. 

Nancy hasn’t really touched Robin a lot at all. They definitely haven’t hugged yet, not like that was a requirement or anything. She remembers grabbing Robin’s hand when they were running out of Pennhurst, and Robin had grabbed hers right before the Creel house. But those were different, those were normal. Out of urgency or comfort. But now, Nancy can’t help to wonder what it would be like outside of those circumstances. 

She wonders what it would be like if Robin were lying next to her now, warming the cool sheets. Just the thought of feeling her presence alone spreading warmth over Nancy’s skin. Wondering if the space between them would become smaller, and their arms would become tangled together. Would they share secrets in the dark, only for the other to hear? Would they fall asleep knowing that they were safe in the other’s embrace? 

No, she thinks, shaking the thoughts out of her head. That won’t happen, because that’s not what’s meant to happen. But thinking back to the way that Robin makes her feel, she can’t help but go on the same loop all over again. 

Nancy isn’t stupid. Deep down she knows that this isn’t something that any normal person wants. Or a normal straight person at least. The thoughts, the beating of her heart, the flush that seems to form on her face whenever she hears Robin’s voice. Those were beyond the line of friendship and into the realm of attraction. 

But Nancy can’t want that. She is straight. There’s never been an instance before this where she’s ever wanted something with another woman. Then again, maybe she was just never attracted to another woman. But she still likes men. The love she had with Jonathan was real, the attraction she had to Steve was real. There were other crushes in her past that were real too, none of them were faked. She wasn’t faking it then, and she isn’t faking it now. 

There’s a word that she heard somewhere that someone used to describe liking both genders, but she can’t remember it. Looking it up could be easy, but she can’t help but feel like she doesn’t need to. Because there’s no way that this was actually something that she wanted. This was just confusion because of the lack of being in a relationship. Just looking for the feeling wherever it came from and enhancing it to be something more than it is. 

After today, she is sure that she is over Jonathan. It feels weird saying that about someone she’s spent years of her life with. Especially since it’s only been a few weeks since their official break. But a part of her knows that she was already getting over him before she called it quits, the distance making it easier to start cutting the ties early. It’s a sad thing to think about, but it’s true. 

And there’s another part of her that knows that a new relationship wouldn’t be pushed away. It wouldn’t be welcome, maybe not all at once. But if she really liked someone, then maybe after getting to know them, they could start something. 

The only problem is that whenever she thinks of who that person could be, there’s only one face that shows up in her mind. And it’s the one face she’s so sure it can’t be. 

. . . 

There’s music playing, soft and in the background. Something unnoticeable but comforting. The air is warm and inviting as someone peppers kisses along Robin’s jaw. Soft hands run up and down her arms before a hand finds its way to her hair, fingers tangling into it. Her lips return to someone else's, slotting together with ease. Tongues pressing together as it becomes impossibly deep. Robin’s own hands travel down the back of this person, sliding underneath the hem and sliding against smooth, warm skin. The person moans into Robin’s mouth, pulling her closer. 

The picture flashes forward, positions changing and clothes being thrown across the room. Red marks on necks and wandering hands. Impossibly soft skin presses against hers and their bodies slide together. Soft moans as Robin kisses down the person’s neck while her hand travels lower, lower. 

“Robin,” the person moans, grabbing her head and bringing her back up for a kiss. Pulling away, Robin’s eyes meet the mystery person. Blue familiar eyes meet hers, blinking up at her. 

“You’re so pretty,” she whispers, pushing away the brown curly hair stuck to the girl's cheek. Stuck to Nancy’s cheek, she realizes. 

Robin wakes up, eyes flinging open with the realization of what just happened. She sits up and turns on her lamp, refusing to chase the warmth and fall back asleep. She takes a deep breath, trying to think of anything other than Nancy to think about, ignoring the warmth in her core. 

“This can’t be happening,” she whispers to herself, hugging her knees close to her chest. 

She can’t help but feel guilty, even though she knows that there was nothing she could have done to stop it. It was a dream, and dreams can’t be controlled. But a part of her wanted the dream to continue. Part of her mind is still there, and her body is still reacting, wishing that she continue it. Wishing that Nancy was really here. 

The line was crossed, there was no way that Robin could deny it to herself anymore. There was no way in the world that Robin was having these thoughts and not having feelings for Nancy. She knew it was a crush, but then it was harmless. Now it’s not. 

Now is when the loneliness kicks in and the unbearable urge to act on her feelings. The hopelessness that comes with knowing that Nancy can’t, and won’t ever reciprocate these feelings. The same thing will just happen over and over again. Robin will keep seeing Nancy because it’s too good to give up, and then end up in this same position, crying herself to sleep. Dreams will keep coming and she’ll keep waking up alone. 

Want. Robin’s never experienced this form of want before. Her other crushes were more manageable, they were less personal. She had admired more from afar than she did up close. Now, there were bonds, secrets, friendship. Knowledge of what Nancy was like and that she knew Robin too. Fantasies easy to create because of how close they are. False hope created by Robin misinterpreting what was only meant to be a friendly gesture. 

Tears start to fill her eyes as reality slips in. There’s no out from this, no lie that will make her believe this was just a stupid dream. Because it wasn’t. It was fueled off of fleeting thoughts that Robin had and shook away before they had taken root. Wondering how soft Nancy’s hair was and feeling the small amount of contact they'd had filling her body with warmth. Getting lost in her gaze and letting her eyes flick down to her lips just once, just to see. 

The fall was crushing, worse than anything she’s ever felt. Robin’s never been in love, but this is the first time where she actually thinks she might be able to. 

Seeking comfort, she reaches out and grabs the phone. When it gets picked up, she doesn’t wait a beat before blurting out, “I like Nancy.”

And after a second of silence, Steve simply says, “I’m coming over,” before hanging up the line. 

[sexualizing-that-old-man]

Another lil writing~

Takes place not too long after Lawrence and Carylin meet.

“Mornin’, squid face.”

The verbal announcement of Carylin’s arrival came a fraction of a second after she knocked on the door and opened it as she always did - without waiting for a welcome, or any sort of permission. Lawrence turned from his desk just in time to see her sit down on his bed. As many times as it had happened already, he swore he'd never get used to his new assistant’s approach.

“It's near midnight,” the illithid said, neglecting to acknowledge the latter part of her greeting. He'd already reminded her of his name multiple times, and she stubbornly refused to use it. 

“Well, that's like morning for you if you're nocturnal, right?” The woman shrugged. “It just feels weird saying hi to someone who just woke up with ‘good evening’, y'know?”

“I've been awake for hours.”

Lawrence turned back to his desk and the various books and journals covering it just as Carylin pouted at him. He attempted to collect his thoughts, and his writing tools, but it was a halfhearted attempt. He'd hardly gotten anything down on paper since the night before, and he knew the presence of his assistant wouldn't be particularly conducive to writing.

“What’ve you been up to? Doodling more lines in your book?” The sound of the bed frame creaking and footsteps approaching led straight to Lawrence’s side. “Can I see?”

“They’re Qualith, not ‘lines’. And your last question is the very reason I write in Qualith, not Common.”

Carylin huffed and crossed her arms, and the illithid turned to scan her face carefully. She stared intently at the lines of ink crossing the paper, but not, it seemed, with understanding. Excellent, thought Lawrence.

He had put great effort into disguising his journal entries, more than she realized. Qualith was normally embedded into a surface with psionic power, not a pen. That magical energy gave the lines further meaning, which could be deciphered along with the lengths of the lines themselves.

But that raised a concern: if one was sufficiently skilled with magic, one could discern at least half of Qualith’s meaning. Lawrence didn't know much about his new assistant, but there was a chance, however small, that she could read his psionic signature. And he couldn't let that happen. So he wrote in ink, a long-form style of the script that couldn't be understood as easily. A coded version of a coded language - it would be impossible for anyone but him to read, or so he hoped.

“What’re you writing, then?” Carylin asked, turning away from the journal with a tilted head. “Is it about me?”

“It is, actually,” Lawrence said carefully, wondering if the woman had actually managed to read the script. But she couldn't have. It was just a guess, that was all. “I'm writing about your unusual immunity to my psionic abilities. Theorizing, trying to find out what makes you different.”

It wasn't quite a lie. That was what the journal had started as, a collection of hypotheses about his assistant's strange power. But that was back when Lawrence still wrote the Qualith with his mind, and not ink. Before he had something he needed to hide.

“Well, what've you got so far?” Carylin asked.

“Not much of any use, unfortunately.” The illithid reflexively moved to a more thoughtful pose, stroking a tentacle. “I've considered that your skull, and perhaps your entire skeletal structure, contains some sort of magic nullifying material, or that your brain itself contains the answer, if only I could get to it. But testing either of those would require doing you at least some harm, if not killing you outright. And I'm no murderer.”

“Right, you just defile corpses to get your food, like a respectable person.”

“...As I was saying, there are precious few hypotheses I can test without invasive procedures. If you can think of any suggestions, you're welcome to help. You are supposed to be working as my assistant, after all.”

Carylin pursed her lips and assumed her own thoughtful pose, with a finger on her chin and a furrowed brow. The room was silent for a moment as she worried at her lips with her teeth, in what Lawrence assumed was an expression of great intellectual focus. What ‘great intellectual focus’ would result in from a human, especially his assistant, was unknown.

“...Are you sure there's nothing you can test out?” she finally said. “Something that doesn't involve poking around in my skull?”

Great focus didn't count for much, as Lawrence expected. But he supposed he could run through his thoughts for her, just to organize them, if nothing else.

“There are a small handful of ways that I know of to resist psionic power,” he explained. “Certain races have an inherent resistance to it, but that of course does not include humans. Some magical items may grant psychic resistance, but those are quite rare, and I highly doubt that you have any. And lastly, the undead are entirely immune, but-”

“Wait!” Her eyes lit up, making him immediately wish he could take back his words. “Entirely immune! That's me, right?”

“Yes, but you're not undead,” Lawrence said slowly.

“You don't know that.”

“I don't-” Lawrence stared at her, his theory of something being off with her brain quickly gaining credence. “...You're clearly not undead. I don't see any bones sticking out of you, and your skin isn't dessicated and peeling off.”

“Well…” She put a finger back on her chin and paused for a moment. “What if I’m a vampire?”

“Then you'd have burned to death by now, with all the time you spend under the sun.”

“What if I'm a special vampire that doesn't burn in the sun? You can't prove that I'm not.”

Lawrence’s tentacles writhed in frustration. Judging by her smile, his ‘assistant’ was playing with him. He could’ve easily brushed her off, told her to get out of his room, and gotten back to work. He should’ve. But he couldn't let himself lose an argument, even one as foolish as this.

“I can easily prove you wrong,” he said. “You have a heartbeat and body heat, therefore you're alive. It's simple.”

“Hmm…” Carylin rubbed her cheek. “I think ‘heat’ is a bit of a stretch. My hands are always chilly. Vampirically chilly, maybe.”

Perhaps it was his irritation with her finally boiling over, or his need to win every argument, or something else entirely. But for whatever reason, Lawrence grabbed her hand.

“I know that you're alive,” he snapped. “Now, admit that you're wrong, or leave this place.”

Carylin's eyes widened and her other hand fell from her face, as she was seemingly stunned into silence. But Lawrence was quickly stunned as well, as the gravity of what he'd just done sank in along with her warmth.

She felt alive. And warm, and soft, and in the state of paralyzing shock Lawrence was in, he could even feel her heartbeat. It was faint, and faster than his, even as he thought his own heart might burst from sheer anxiety. Maybe that was just how humans were. 

It certainly wasn't the only difference between them. Her skin was dry, but as smooth as his. And her fingers, outnumbering his by one, perfectly interlocked with his own. 

He froze. Their hands weren't in the same position as before. When did they move? Did he shift to hold her closer? Did she? No, it must've been him. His already rattled nerves were barely holding together. 

But he couldn't let go.

“Yes, as I was saying,” he managed to get out, “you're clearly not undead. And your hands aren't nearly as cold as you claim.”

Tearing his gaze from Carylin’s hand to her face, he saw a smile. It relieved him, to some extent. At least she wasn't mad. But seeing her smiling down at him made something else boil up within his soul.

“Took you a while to figure that out, huh? Guess you've gotta be thorough with these things, though.”

“Indeed. Now, since you've done your job of assisting me, you're dismissed.” 

He finally loosened his grasp on her hand and began to pull back, eager to get her out of his room as quickly as possible. But his hand barely traveled halfway to his desk before it was seized.

“Ah, ah! Not so fast!” Carylin pulled his hand back up toward her, grinning. “If you get to examine me, I need to take my own turn.”

She bent down and stared at his hand carefully, using both of her own to tilt it back and forth while she put on her thoughtful face. She hummed and bit at her lips, and traced her fingers along his skin.

“...Mmm. Well, in my professional opinion, I believe this hand belongs to a mind flayer,” she declared. “You can tell by the sliminess, you see. And, hold on-”

She held tight to his hand, and used another to feel his wrist. His heartbeat thumped against her fingers, slowly for a human, but as rapid as possible for an illithid. 

“Yes, it's a living mind flayer too,” Carylin nodded sagely. “And with that, you're dismissed.”

She released him and straightened back up, and judging by the sound of her footfalls, headed toward the exit. Then, the door shut, and Lawrence was alone.

He stared at his hand. Slowly, his pulse was returning to normal. But the memory stained his mind and his vision, and as he looked down he could nearly see her hand there, could nearly feel her body heat. 

He wondered, when his thoughts were clear enough to wonder, if his assistant would ever come back after his embarrassing behavior. But she hadn't taken her wages for the day, so she'd surely come back for that, at least. 

But Lawrence had work to attend to, and couldn't waste his time, especially when he had gained such inspiration to write. He turned his attention from his body to his desk, and picked up his tools. His latest journal entry could take hours to compose, with all the material he had.

He carefully marked down the first line, spacing out each segment of ink to form an idea. The second, third, and fourth lines of his first sentence followed, taking far more time to compose than they would have if imprinted by mind. But secrecy was vital in recording these entries, so ink would have to do.

Lawrence hadn't lied when he said his journal recorded theories about what made his assistant different. The nature of this difference had changed over time, though. At first, he wondered why he couldn't use psionic power on her, why he couldn't detect her with his mind. Now he had other concerns.

He read over his writing. Even though it was only one sentence, it took up a large portion of the page, with each line segment possessing great meaning. Ideas, thoughts, feelings, all recorded in ink. The sentiment could hardly be expressed in Common without greatly diminishing its soul, but if one tried, it would read as follows:

She held my hand.

[chipped-chimera]

Okay since I'm actually awake now, (proper) HAIR UPDATE! ❤️🖤❤️

I wanted to add this onto my post from last night but tumblr hates reblog photosets. Anyways I was very aware that posting my V in the darkest corner of an apartment with black hair wasn't really ... showing anything - but it was very much her vibe and that's been the point of this entire project, buckling down and learning Blender from nothing, reverse-engineering mods and systems I was only NEW to about a month or so ago so I could figure out how to bring 'back' her hair, but like ... even more how I wished it was.

And it's finally done (well ... structurally).

More development rambles beloooow ~

I'm not releasing this (yet) as I'd now put myself in 'polish' phase, where I'll be tweaking some physics and other stuff like the vertex painting which influences the shine - brighter hair colours look a bit too blown out at the moment, and I'm not sure if this is because it's too shiny or because of my custom normals (may have to tone them down a bit, idk). You can see what I mean below -

Shadows are also behaving oddly at certain angles, and I wasn't sure if it was a harsh lighting situation but upon changing the lighting up ... no. Something weird is going on. So that'll need troubleshooting (for lighter colours at least). Also some textures just are acting weird on certain parts when I don't think they should look that way so yeah ... more ... troubleshooting ahead. :V

I'm also going to look into if there's something I can do for the 'efficiency' of this mesh because I noticed some pretty severe frame slowdowns taking close up shots - though only sometimes?? Not sure what that was about at all. I'm assuming it's my gpu being pushed harder as I get closer to the hair, but upon changing the hair in the character creator to another and then back it just went away again? So no idea what the hell was going on there. It felt a bit almost like a memory leak, but I didn't do a check to see what my system was doing so I'll have another look if it happens again.

Possible (hypothetical) causes:

Could be texture size, these hair cards have 2k textures apart from the alpha (4k) which is double vanilla textures so that is also a possibility as a fix (though I'd be loathe to do it).

Double rigs. I noticed last night when in my rigging phase with UUH4V that reducing it from three meshes and rigs to TWO meshes and two rigs significantly improved framerate lag (I mean it was minor but noticeable enough) in the character creation screen, so it could hypothetically be something to do with calculations of running two rigs at the same time. If that is the case, I could probably just rig this to the Alt hair rig. Currently I'm using Alt's for the back and left side of the hair, whereas the fringe at the front and the curl over the shoulder is rigged to Old Rogue. I'll probably still keep using UUH4V just … one rig only.

Last in the list? Hair cards. There are a lot. Maybe too many. They're also of a higher poly than last time. That said I've looked at other mods with heavier polycounts than mine (what gave me the courage to push further in the first place after my very low poly attempt 1.0) that caused more obvious frame slowdown in just the character creator alone. I feel there is still a minor slowdown currently but it's on the edge of noticeable (like, 30fps vs 60fps). As it goes though, this is still pretty insanely efficient (thank YOU Hair Tools for Blender).

BONUS: Mods. Other mods. The thing I use to hook in a DLL for pose control. Could always be that?

So uh, guess that's what I'll be working on. I don't know how much time I should be spending on getting this 'frame efficient' considering anyone using this would be primarily be for screenshots, and given the specs I'm currently running (AMD Ryzen 5 CPU and an RTX 2060) are being re-classed as the 'bare minimum' with Phantom Liberty coming out, and I am planning on upgrades to my PC anyway.

We'll see? (Though in my heart of hearts, I have have had potato PCs for years and I want to support the lowest specs I possibly can). I dunno let me know what you think about that one as a possible mod user (and someone who actually reads these, wow).

Anyways all that matters is jesus christ I finally did this. I taught myself hair. From scratch.

Promised tutorial ... soon. After I maybe do nothing for a few days lol.

[multifanlol]

Hello! I have another request if you don’t mind think you could do a Yandere Calamity trio headcanons kidnaps the reader but the reader either escapes or they’re friends come to rescue them? You can do them separately if you want

Hey! And yess I’ll do them together as it sounds interesting-

Tw: Kidnapping, yk the usual yandere stuff

Calamity trio kidnapping there s/o together but the reader escapes

After Amphibia

You hated this

You hated everything you hated them

You knew you didn’t even mean hate at that point you didn’t know what you thought of the three girls…..Anne, Sasha and Marcy

Your childhood friends

You met the friend group a little later (2nd grade) but you were still welcomed in with open arms

You couldn’t separate us when we were kids even as we aged

When we became teens though you began to notice some…..slight change of habits

You honestly felt stupid for not noticing especially since the red flags were there when we were only little kids now thinking about it they were always a little…..possessive

You noticed how they were your only friends that sticked around long enough, all your other friends suspiciously started ghosting you or just full on said they didn’t wanna be your friend…..

That’s another red flag you should of saw but you can’t blame you right? I mean there was no obvious signs they had anything to do with it…..

You almost didn’t notice there sly smiles when your friends walked away from you

As it went on they became worser but you didn’t bother leaving them as they were your only friends at the time…..

And when you did realise there wasn’t anything you could do they practically had control over you….

Sasha was like the ring leader at the time, lead whatever messed up thing they were gonna do to someone looking at you the wrong or “right” way aka showed some form of “interest in you, Marcy was like the brains forming the plan on how it’d work and stuff and Anne just…..followed along i guess you could say she talked to the person first but…..she didn’t really do much at the time

Although little did they know you actually did make a few friends only a few you met them before Amphibia how did they not find out? You weren’t even sure they usually knew your schedule but this time instead of going to school you ditched it and went to the park instead, call it dumb but with how unbelievably creepy your only friends have been getting you wanted to be away from them…..till they somehow found you at least

You ended up meeting two people there, bonded and over time you trusted them enough and became friends with them

You made sure to never and i mean NEVER make sure the girls found out that’s probably the only smart thing you did….

You remember noticing how weird they’d act whenever you’d mention a slight nice thing about someone that wasn’t them and if you told them you gained a friend? Yeah you weren’t gonna deal with that

Honestly you thank them as there probably the reason you realised how unormal the stuff the girls would do were I mean you grew up with them so you….kinda normalised it

During Amphibia you missed them although it did open your eyes a load of how they were…..too bad now there even worser I mean, they know combat now-

After Amphibia you thought Marcy would of moved that you honestly…..didn’t know how to feel sad or happy? You had no idea-

Although for some reason she didn’t move?

Like did she convince her parents or something? Maybe you should have been looking into how closely the other girls were getting to you…..

Next time you woke up it felt normal…..till you heard something on the news

It was a photo of…..you

And they were talking about you…..dying? Dying during the frog things attempting to take over the world what-

“Just putting this in here-oh your awake! Guys she’s awake!!”

“What..?”

“What is it Mar mar-oh your awake!”

“What is it guys-oh your awake….finally-“

You still remember the absolute shock and panic of your childhood friends turned into all being insanely in-love with you now kidnapping you and leaving you……you don’t even know

Like none of there parents even suspected anything, they still went to there house while one looked after you or something.

You didn’t even understand it and didn’t want to

You didn’t know how to react them telling you that they faked your death so nobody can “hurt you” or something like that and it’s for your own good

Instead things were different glancing at them first there just three teenagers, after knowing them for like a day you’ll learn these girls stopped a whole frog war i mean including you but it’s like they don’t even realise it

This time Sasha was still sorta the ring leader but she was still open to Marcy and Anne’s ideas as even though she was still an insanely obsessive person she still changed with not being controlling and manipulative anymore

She still has major anger issues though

And well the usual Marcy was the brains, and Anne was the heart this time it was all towards you

Deciding what needs to be locked up after every attempt of you escaping and failing, as an example Sasha thinks of ways to stop you from getting out, Marcy helps with that and Anne “lectures” you

You tried to escape, multiple times it just got harder and worser with every attempt you didn’t forget the time they nearly lost it with you after them giving you “everything” let’s just say you stopped trying afterwards

At least that’s what they thought

You didn’t even message your friends they just knew knowing your death had to be false in some way so they were ready to rescue you they just had to wait

Believe it or not you did actually consider just giving up and giving into them but one night Marcy was watching you but fell asleep after assuming you were asleep as you were actually a good faker after always having to do it so the girls would leave you alone you ended up getting a suspicious knock through the window, because believe it or not you still had windows, you needed air after all as they wouldn’t let you out but they were heavily boarded up

You just assumed it was some animal or something and tried to ignore it but it kept on knocking so you checked it out and nearly screamed then and there….

“OH MY-“

“SHH-“

You stopped quickly turning your head and seeing Marcy still in a deep slumber and then grabbing a plushie assuming it was you i guess

They showed you a note which read

“We’re gonna get you out of here y/n, just wait a little longer and don’t make them suspect anything we promise we’ll help you get out of here”

And just like that it begun

And here you are now it’s been months and all you’ve been doing is playing pretend with them and letting them treat you like how a little girl is with there dolls

You honestly felt like months was a little too long

You knew they were trying but you were becoming impatient so until you got a response from them you were observing different ways to escape

You ended up figuring out a way to beat them at there little “game”

You needed to defeat the three keys, brains, strength and heart

Whenever you’d usually escape they’d always be three steps ahead of you, literally

Marcy would have observed the place and see what was tampered with to show that your trying to escape, and would make it look more easy to get out of so that you’d find it believable

Sasha would be the one that stops you from escaping like easily holding you down, doesn’t matter how strong you are she IS meant to represent the strength word itself in the show

Anne would be the one to walk in the room acting like she didn’t know your little plan maybe getting you to tell her something pretending she’s gonna let you go…..she’s not manipulative she swears-

So you had it all figured out….

It was definitely more easier now as you had more privileges it still wasn’t totally easy as Sasha felt that she’s not sure if you totally gave in yet as she feels like it’s “too easy” or something like that

And just like that you got a response from your friends

It was all ready now….

And just like that you were about to jump out the window, it felt a little too easy….

“What are you waiting for, jump y/n!”

“I don’t know it just-nevermind”

“S/o, stop!”

Oh no…

“You don’t have to do this….just don’t jump out the window and we can just talk….”

“There just strangers s/o there clearly just manipulating you”

You had enough of this

“There not strangers…..there better friends then you at least…”

You noticed they had something behind them and you honestly weren’t just gonna stand there

“Goodbye….old “friends”

And just like that you were gone

“S/O!”

You couldn’t return back to your parents for now as you knew it wasn’t a very believable story and it was too risky as that’s where they would assume you’d go first

They never got over you escaping, they looked searched and even told everyone you were alive if they had to

I don’t think they’d ever stop looking

Anne would be heartbroken that you escaped after them being nothing but nice to you….

Marcy would feel stupid but be sad, stupid you outsmarted her sad that well….your gone

Sasha would be angry, would probably punch a wall at least twice a day when you escape, she would also cry while being angry

I guess it’s obvious they’d never stop looking…..not till they found you and if they did well……

Yeah 🙃

And well that’s it tell me more stuff like this you wanna see!! And hope you have a good day/night!