#i should actually do sm with my sketchbooks like i keep saying i will

[ragnars-tooth]

miss martindale leave ur cringe husband, i can treat you so much better

- said by tam farrell (arguably worse), and me (definitely worse)

[satuguro]

Omg after reading part v and Xavier’s promise offer to patch y/n up quietly whenever she needs —and all its deeper meaning—I’d love your head cannons on Xavier having a bad mental health day (per Xavier’s mention in the show that he struggles with his mental health and his dad wants him to keep it secret) and !valkyrie reader making a similar offer. 💜

✧*ೃ࿐ TONGUES & TEETH HEAD CANNONS

[ INTERLUDE II: FOR HIS BAD DAYS ]

xavier thorpe x valkyrie! reader

#CONTAINS— fluff, angst

#AUTHORSNOTE— i'm writing pt. 6 of tongues and teeth rn, but this request is so dear to my heart cause i struggle with mental health almost every day. thank you sm for requesting this xx

— both you and xavier have had a history of neglect and trauma regarding your parents, so that means that bad mental health days happen.

— you don’t get to help him on his bad mental health days prior to the relationship, and vice versa. it takes a lot of trust for you both to fully let people see those sides of you.

— that doesn’t mean that you or xavier don’t see when the other is struggling with their emotions. like that one scene i wrote where xavier says, “take your time,” is an example of the subtle ways he’d help.

— but that shared hardship with emotions also means that both of you can read each other like a book; you both notice the slight changes in mood or when each other’s social battery decreases. it’s something that takes a lot of work from the both of you, but you make it work.

you moved your head to the other side of the pillow, groggy eyes adjusting to the soft light that was emitted from the side table.

xavier’s lips were in a permanent frown as he drew on his sketchbook, his knees pulled up to allow him to prop his art on it. his pencil moved on the paper, the soft scratches dragging you further away from your exhaustion.

“you’re awake,” you said, seeking his close presence as you moved to lay close to him. the sleepiness in your eyes melted when you saw the turmoil in his green eyes. the lack of response only furthered your worry for him. “xavier,” you said softly, sitting up and holding his arm gently, pausing his drawing.

xavier said nothing as he put his pencil down reluctantly. he looked at you, his eyes softening ever so slightly at your pleading eyes. he knew he should talk to you when he had moments like this. moments where he felt as though nothing was going right, as though what he was doing could never be good enough for anyone.

but then he felt you squeeze his arm three times for those three words you’ve said to him over and over, and he found himself spilling his thoughts out to you. and you were so happy to soak everything up.

— you're really cautious about giving him advice during his bad mental health days. you know more than anyone that having someone to listen and comfort you can help just as much as solutions.

— but that doesn’t mean that you both won’t give each other advice when the other asks.

— it took a while for the two of you to work out how to help each other out during bad mental health days. both of your were so used to dealing it on your own that it was hard to actually address it with the other person.

— but it was you that made an indirect promise to him when he finally spoke to you.

the sound of his father's party was merely a muffle as you brought xavier to the balcony. you could feel the quickening of his pulse under your fingertips and how his skin was clammy; he was hyperventilating, the words of his father circulating in his head like a mantra.

how could someone be so degrading about their own son purely for the laughter of others? to speak so lowly of someone they were supposed to care for and raise?

"hey." you looked at him, your hand being the only form of physical contact with him as your worried face studied his.

xavier wasn't having a panic attack, you knew that. but you knew that he couldn't be in that environment for any longer than he was, for as you looked at his misty eyes and frowning brows, his quivering lip and how he sucked it between his teeth to try and keep it in, you wanted to cry with him.

"breathe with me, okay?" you placed his hand on your chest as you breathed rhythmically, allowing the fresh air to fill your lungs and exit slowly. xavier could only follow you, his eyes still threatening to spill over with tears as every exhale he let out shook with his emotions.

if he wasn't xavier's father, you would have burned him to the ground. xavier could see the anger you hid behind your worry, how he knew you would have easily demanded an apology from his father if you didn't know any better.

"do you want to talk about it?" you asked softly as his breathing slowed, your hands cupping his face. your thumbs brushed away the tears that spilled over his cheeks so gently, as though you were afraid that you would break him.

xavier could only shake his head. the possibility of being interrupted by his father was far too high for his liking; if he ever saw xavier like this, he would be forced to return to the party almost immediately. he'd have to get himself together. "'m sorry you have the burden of seeing me like this." he almost winced at how much of his father's words he heard in his sentence.

you pressed a kiss to his forehead as he sniffled, your head moving down to press your foreheads together. you took his hands into yours and thumb ran along his knuckles. "it's never a burden— not if it's you. never, if it's you."

— sometimes xavier does have to stop you from starting a fight with his father. it's a given, considering you're so fiercely protective of him and so accustomed to violence. but xavier kind of likes it because he's always been the one that was overprotective of others, not the other way around.

— xavier also has a really bad sleeping schedule; it gets worse during bad mental health days. you like staying up with him; not to talk to him all the time, but because you don't want him to feel like he's alone in his father's house again, dealing with his emotions without the presence of another.

— but you know how to get him back to bed when it's way too late in the night for him to be awake.

you heard him tap his paintbrush against his jar of turpentine three times quick. the rain rolled outside his dorm room, the droplets hitting the window violently. but while the night was violent and harsh, your lover's brush strokes were soft as he worked on his painting.

he had been quiet for most of the day. there was no particular reason for it— he didn't need a reason for it. sometimes that was just how he felt, and you understood that. he didn't feel like there was anything to talk about, only murmuring that he was simply feeling down and that talking felt too exhausting.

but as the clock flashed 3:32, you knew it was time to drag him to bed.

you wrapped the blanket around yourself as you stood up. your feet made small sounds on the floor as you approached him with the blanket dragging on the floor behind you. gently, you laid your forehead on his back, feeling his muscles relax under your touch. his chest vibrated as he hummed in acknowledgement.

xavier turned to look behind him, the shadow of sadness on his face lightening up at the feeling of your touch. "hi," he managed to say, his voice quiet as he gave you a small smile that took up a majority of his energy. he was exhausted— mentally and physically —from everything, but couldn't bring himself to be under the covers just yet. he felt guilty for being so down all day without reason; he felt bad that you had to deal with him.

"it's 3:32."

"i can see that," xavier responded, turning back to his work. the shuffling of the blanket was followed by your blanketed arms wrapping around his middle. his gaze softened, his arm falling down to put his paintbrush away.

“come to bed with me, xavier.” the request come out softly, your words nothing short of hopeful and worried. you were reaching out to him, calling for him and expecting him to answer. for him to take your hand or answer your call with his own.

in the end, he always returned to you. he always gave in, not because he was tired or because he was annoyed, but because it was you. he always gave in if it was for you.

[clouds-rambles]

hello!~

i'd like to request an albedo oneshot wherein his s/o is actually a spy from another nation OR a fatui harbinger??? and the reader just betrays albedo???

thank u sm for reading this!

- 🦋 anon

Welcome back 🦋 anon! And hell yeah I’m about to feed the dash with angst for the nth time. I hope albedo is in character lmao. Spot the princess bride reference lmao

Pairings; Albedo x reader

Warning(s); angst, just imagine a fight guys i can’t write fights, major character death, hurt/no comfort, injury, blood

Keep reading under the cut!

It wasn’t supposed to hurt like this. You aren’t supposed to feel like this. The feeling of love wasn’t supposed to grow like this. Sure your target being horrifically attractive gave you the eye candy you required to make it through the task was nice.

But he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.

And you weren’t supposed to fall in love with him.

So many nights you’ve spent with him from shy touches to passionate scenes in the bedroom. Chaste kisses and passionate make out sessions. You have never wanted to not receive your orders from the tsarista.

Albedo loves to draw you endlessly in his sketchbook. Even when you’re doing such simple things like cooking and clearing out hilichurl camps you’ll find yourself littered over the pages. How are you supposed to kill a man you’ve come to love?

When you received the fated letter telling your the orders you have spent so many months dreading to receive you cried. You didn’t want to lay a hand on your lover, but worse things would happen to you if you don’t follow the orders.

 You eventually collect yourself and abandon the [name] that you had let yourself be for all these months you equip your hydro delusion and sit it beside your cyro vision. 

Your brain flitters to the sibilance of the cryo vision hanging on your hip. Bestowed to you by the tsarista herself. One of the best among her hand selected harbingers. Her first harbinger...

You walk into Albedo’s office with a presence that he’s not quite familiar with. Albedo has seen parts of this new side of you when you throw yourself into fights with foes that should usually be much to hard for anyone to take on.

“[name] my dear, is something wrong?” he asks ignoring the deductions he’s currently making from seeing the new delusion hooked on your hip. He had guessed in the first days of knowing you that you may had been a Fatui agent. But you quickly faded those guesses quickly.

“I am unnamed, the first fatui cyro harbinger of her majesty's the tsarista’s courts. You have no right to say that name. Prepare to die” you tell him unsheathing your claymore. Albedo looks down and sighs a deep sigh. Maybe that one time he had the opportunity to rifle through your things he should have taken it.

He can’t let himself get killed by you, but he desperately does not want to kill you.

“I loved you” he tells you pushing his feelings aside as he rises up from his chair to finally face you. You have already donned your fatui mask, nothing more than your eyes glinting through the mask. Were you crying? “But I’d hate to die” he adds he runs towards you with his sword with a stoic face that you have seen him put on for battles in the past

You shield yourself with your heavy claymore and push him back with a force he has never experienced in your spars. Were you holding back this entire time? Or is this the power given to you after you equip your delusion.

The fight endures for longer that you would like. The two of you are encased in a shield of ice to stop Sucrose and the other vision wielders to get in. Your wounds are about two to one. You’re winning the fight but you keep hesitating on taking the final blow, you hide the hesitation with jokes about how he could fight you for much longer. If anything you want him to collapse out of exhaustion before you deal the final blow to him.

Eventually he does. You’ve knocked him down and you’ve probably broken more of his bones then you have the heart to admit. As you bring the claymore to his body he opens it up to you giving in.

“I trusted you” he tells you coughing up some blood “You were my world” he adds closing his eyes. You close your eyes behind your mask, tears freely flowing down your face. He doesn’t know you’re crying and that’s enough for you to keep to your script.

“Orders are orders. And for the record, I love you” you tell him your final words before plunging your weapon into his chest. You wait while his life fades away, the pulsing of your hydro delusion pulses at your waist waiting to be called to heal your love. But you don’t. And he dies.

You leave his body behind, although you pick up his dying vision to add to your collection of deceased visions. This one holds more value then the others though. It’s the only memory you’ll let yourself hold onto.

The tsarista will be pleased

[deathishauntedbyhumans]

The Colour of You

Stranger: [Soulmate AU: You see color when you make eye contact with your soulmate. Please reply as anyone who's trying to set Keith up with Lance.] For the last time, I'm done with all these blind dates. None of them ever work out and I'm getting sick of all the rejection. -K

You: You keep saying that, but you always show up to them. Don't you think you can skip the dramatics this time and just go meet the guy? P I seriously think this is going to work out this time. P

Stranger: Because you call Shiro and literally make him drag me out of my house. -K Doubtful. -K

You: You can't blame me for having methods. P Stop being so negative. It might work. You don't know. P

Stranger: Yeah yeah, whatever. -K If it hasn't worked the past twelve times it won't now. -K

You: You have to meet your soulmate sometime, Keith. P

Stranger: Which isn't going to happen, I probably don't even have one. -K

You: Of course you have one. P I swear to god, I will drag you out of the house myself this time. I won't even call Shiro. P

Stranger: I'm not going Pidge and that's final. I have comics to finish, I don't have time for this. -K

You: Then I'll send him to your house. P

Stranger: If he comes I'm calling the cops. -K

Stranger: I'm not interested Pidge. -K

You: You wouldn't call the cops. Shiro would kill you. P I know you want to find your SM. Stop whining about it and let me help you. P

Stranger: He'd probably be the cop who shows up honestly. -K You've tried helping but nothing works, maybe I need to stop pushing it or something. -K

You: He's really excited to meet you, Keith. I've been talking you up to him for weeks. P

Stranger: [...] Let me guess you buttered me up so I don't sound like a cosplaying hermit who does costume commissions and art online and never leaves the house unless I need to run errands? -K

You: Actually, no. P For once, I think I actually managed to find someone as geeky as you are. He's in that art class I didn't want to take, and he actually makes it bearable because all he does it mumble stupid shit under his breath while the professor drones. AND the only thing he draws is fanart. He's not professional, but he's good at copying styles. I've seen some of the stuff he works on, which is why I mentioned you in the first place. P

Stranger: Huh. Is that so? -K

You: Yes. Now would you please get your head out of your ass and meet him? P

Stranger: [...] Maybe the next time I'm in town. -K

You: You're out of town? P

Stranger: No I'm at home. -K

Stranger: But I don't really have a reason to walk into town right now, so I'm staying home. -K

You: You HAVE a reason. His name is Lance, he draws anime like a nerd, and he WANTS to meet you. P

Stranger: [Long Delay] Where does he want to meet? -K

You: I told him you'd meet him for coffee at Red Lion. P

Stranger: What time? -K

You: In an hour. P

Stranger: Ugh... Fine.. I'll fucking be there. -K

You: I knew you would. Name your kids after me when it works out ;) P

Stranger: Only because Hunk is blowing my phone up. -K

You: You needed the push. P

Stranger: *middle finger emoji* -K

You: Oh, you know you love me. P Have fun on your date ;) P

Stranger: Shut up. -K

Stranger: A few minutes before they were supposed to meet up Keith walked into the cafe wearing a beanie over his long hair, torn up jean shorts, and an old shirt he bought in a thrift shop. With his messenger bag on his shoulder Keith looked around, visibly nervous before deciding to get himself a drink. Thinking back on it now, he probably should have asked what this guy looked like...

You: For what felt like the hundredth time, Lance pulled his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it, staring down at the text he'd received from Pidge with the location of the place he was supposed to meet Keith. Keith, who Pidge hadn't stopped talking to him about for the past month. Keith, who... Lance may or may not have had a teensy little crush on, just from the lengthy descriptions from Pidge. Oh, god, he was nervous. He was so nervous. He took a deep breath and pocketed his phone once more, staring out the windshield of his car. And then, the alarm on his phone went off, and he startled violently before laughing at himself nervously and locking the phone a second time, turning the alarm off. He exited the car and locked the door, huffing out a breath as he stepped into the cafe. It was a small place; he'd never been before, but Pidge had mentioned that it was one of Keith's favourite places around, so Lance was more than willing to try it. It wasn't incredibly crowded, but most of the tables had at least one person sitting at them as he gazed curiously around the establishment upon entering.

Stranger: While waiting for his drink to be made Keith found himself a small corner booth to set up in, putting his tablet up and laying a large sketch book close to him, his backpack sitting on the table decorated with all kinds of buttons- comics, anime, cartoons, fashion- you name it. Five minutes after three the barista stepped forward and put down a large frappe on the bar calling out the name Keith, which caught the artist's attention. He stood up and walked over, unaware Lance had entered the building as he grabbed his drink, leaving two dollars in the tip jar as he always did. He grabbed himself a straw before heading back to his seat, getting comfortable once more. Keith looked at the time and frowned, glancing around. Maybe he was being stood up..?

You: The sound of the barista calling out a name got Lance's attention out of habit, and he glanced towards the counter automatically, brain slowly processing the name that had been said. And then... Oh. Oh god. Keith. She'd said Keith, and that... Fuck. Holy /shit/, that was Keith. It had to be. Lance couldn't help staring at Keith as he got his drink, couldn't help the way his eyes went wide because /shit/, pictures of him and descriptions of him didn't do him justice. Keith was /hot/. Too hot. It was a little unfair. Lance only stopped staring when he felt someone bump into him from behind, and he realised that he'd stopped just inside the doorway. His face went red as he apologised to the stranger; he was certain that it had already been flushed at the sight of Keith across the room, but that wasn't important. He steeled himself, running a nervous hand through his hair and glancing down at himself before deciding that, yes, this was really happening, and making his way across the room. "...Keith?" he said as he approached the table Keith had sat down at. "I, uh... I'm Lance. Pidge wanted to... set us up?"

Stranger: Keith was sketching when he heard his name being called again, absentmindedly rubbing the scar that was on his right cheek while observing the 3D model on his tablet. "Yeah?" Keith looked up when he heard the other begin to explain himself, looking into his eyes, "Oh. Yeah, she mentioned-..." Keith slowly stopped speaking as color came into Lance's eyes before it began spreading across the entire room slowly, as if not to overwhelm Keith. This.. soulmate.. Pidge had actually.. found his soulmate..?

Stranger: [brb real quick]

Stranger: [back]

You: Lance grinned --albeit a little awkwardly-- as Keith looked up at him, but the grin dropped very quickly into a look of absolute awe as their eyes met. He'd heard of colour before; he'd heard of first meetings being magical, incredible, amazing things. But he'd never actually even been able to imagine what it would be like. He was staring at Keith again, but this time, he could /see/ him. His eyes were a brilliant colour, so blue they were nearly violet, and his jacket was... /red/, and... "Oh my god," he whispered, head whipping about as he registered what was happening before he situated his gaze back on Keith's face. He dropped into the booth, right across from Keith, careful not to hit anything on the table on the way down but unable to stand any longer. "Oh my god," he whispered again. "Holy shit. Do you... Do you see it too?"

Stranger: Keith nodded as he looked around, in awe of what he saw. He never knew there were so many shades of color in the world... Now he understood why Shiro wanted him to find his soulmate, this feeling.. the warmth in his chest, the colors in the room.. were /magical/. "... Yeah.. I- I see it too.." He informed, looking back to Lance as he gulped.

You: "You're my soulmate," Lance whispered reverently. He honestly hadn't known what to expect, coming here. Sure, he'd already had it bad for Keith, but he'd had crushes before, and /they'd/ never turned out very well. This... This was something entirely new. And it felt /incredible/. He had no idea what he was supposed to do, but it was hard to contain the glowing feeling in his chest. His hands fluttered for a moment in front of him before he dropped them onto the table, just in front of where Keith's array of admittedly-interesting objects stopped. "I can't believe it."

Stranger: "Neither can I.. Ugh, Pidge is never going to leave me alone when she finds out she was right.." He groaned, hesitating before putting his sketchbook and tablet away, resting his backpack n his lap. "... So.. soulmates.. Uh.. I don't.. know what to say..?"

You: There was absolutely nothing that was going to stop Lance from just /looking/ at Keith. The world could have ended right then and there, and Lance wouldn't have noticed or cared, because Keith was /gorgeous/. His hair was a deep ebony-black, rich and dark where it was peeking out from underneath the beanie on top of his head. His skin was pale beneath it, and his eyes... Fuck, Lance was going to be dreaming about those eyes for a long, long time. At the mention of Pidge, Lance made a mental note to send her a thank you card. Or a fruitbasket. Or... something else she would actually like. Maybe a new phone case? It didn't matter right then. What mattered was /Keith/. "I... don't, either. What do you say when you find the one person who was made to complete you, man?" He felt himself flush and rubbed his hands over his face briefly. "Oh, god. That was stupid. Sorry. I'm... not very good at talking. Actually, scratch that. Everyone always says that I'm too good at talking, because I don't know how to shut up." He dropped his hands again. "I just never know what to say, so I end up rambling... like I'm doing right now. Oh, god. Please just pretend I stopped talking, like... when I started."

Stranger: "I didn't think you actually existed." Keith stated bluntly at the first question, looking to the side and rubbing the long scar on his face, "... If it makes you feel better I'm shit at talking, so.. I usually just don't." He informed with a sigh, glancing to Lance, looking him over. He was pretty cute, hot too.. Tall and slim with bright blue eyes that Keith would try to find the perfect shade for so he could use in a future for a commission, messy brown hair that was somewhat styled.. But he had good fashion sense- much better than Keith that's for sure. "Relax, it's fine.. I don't know what to say either..."

You: It hadn't really been something that Lance had been drawn to look at immediately, but he did find his attention pulled to the scar on Keith's face when the other brought a hand up to brush against it. It seemed like a subconscious move, either to hide the scar or just to feel it, but either way... Lance couldn't help but wonder how he'd gotten it. He bit his lip against the question. Later. They would... Oh, god. They would have plenty of time for that later. For questions, and for answers, and for... learning about each other. "I'm pretty sure I exist," he stated, going for an easy smile. He was pretty sure he missed it by a mile, but hey. He was /nervous/. "You, um... Oh, god. Okay. I know we just met, and found out we're soulmates and everything, but..." He blew out a harsh breath, making a "hhh" sound. "I've literally been thinking about meeting you since Pidge showed me a picture of you for the first time, and just..." He made the sound again before planting his elbows on the table and dropping his face into his hands to hide what he knew must be a spectacular blush. "You're even more attractive in person and it's throwing me off, man. Especially in colour." He groaned, everything coming out just a tad muffled through his fingers.

Stranger: Keith's entire face turned red as Lance spoke, the male sputtering before turning to look away, pulling his beanie down in an attempt to hide how flustered he was. "I.. I'm not that attractive, that's you.. I'm just.." Keith struggled to find the words, biting his lower lip, "I'm just.. me.. you're really attractive though, pleasing to the eye to look at." He stated bluntly, the flush spreading to his ears as he spoke, the man still scratching at his facial scar.

Stranger: [brb again, sorry]

You: ((No worries!))

You: Lance couldn't help himself; even though he was embarrassed, he couldn't keep his gaze off of Keith for more than a few seconds at a time, it seemed. He looked up again to find Keith blushing, and oh /god/ the pink tinge to his pale cheeks was a sight to behold. As Keith's compliment sunk in he giggled --giggled! fuck!-- and then, before he could think better of it, he was reaching across the table and gently placing a hand on Keith's wrist to stop him from scratching at his face. "I think you're really, really good-looking," he told him honestly, fervently, even though it made him flush again to say it. "Like, seriously. You're probably the most attractive person in town. Maybe even in the world. Or the universe. Probably all of those." He was rambling again, but damn if he could help it. Keith's wrist was warm beneath his hand, and... They were /touching/ now and that glowing feeling in his chest only felt more like it was going to burst out any second.

Stranger: Keith gulped, looking down at their hands before pulling his hand away. The purple eyed man removed his leather glove before reaching out, hand shaking slightly as he laced their fingers together, their palms touching. "..." He licked his lips, keeping an eye on their hands as he felt Lance's warm skin against his cold skin, ".. I think you're biased Mr. Lance Soulmate..." He teased quietly, looking up at him as he bit his lower lip, still holding his hand on the table. "You're the attractive one and that's fucking that.. Okay?"

You: For a split second, Lance was afraid that he'd overstepped some invisible boundary when Keith pulled his hand away. He was just getting ready to stammer out an apology when Keith reached out again, and anything that Lance was going to say was lost in a haze of "Oh my god he's holding my hand he's /holding my hand/ and it feels so nice." And then Keith was /teasing him/, and Lance was pretty sure he was going to melt into the floor because the little mischievous glint in his eye was the cutest fucking thing he'd ever seen in his entire life. "Why can't we both be attractive?" he somehow managed to get out, trying for a cocky grin that he was moderately sure actually looked right. His gaze was still on Keith's, though, and the awe in his eyes hadn't diminished one bit.

Stranger: The flush in his cheeks turned almost a dark red when Lance gave that smirk, stirring his insides. God he was so fucking gay... "... Good point." He borderline squeaked. That.. that was sinful. He could be adorable then /hot/? Shit.. He was so gay it wasn't even funny...

You: Oh, man. That was... Keith was literally the actual cutest thing Lance had ever seen in his life, and it was going to kill him. He was pretty sure his heart was going to jump out of his chest, it was beating so quickly. "I try," he said through a laugh, squeezing Keith's hand gently. The grin softened to a genuine happy smile as he calmed again, the laughter fading. "You're my soulmate," he stated softly, holding on just a little more tightly to Keith's hand. "I'm so lucky."

Stranger: Keith couldn't help but laugh as Lance spoke in awe, squeezing his hand gently, "... So.. besides doing fanart in college what do you do?" Keith asked after a few seconds, stroking Lance's thumb with his own, focused on Lance's face. "Pidge didn't tell me a lot about you besides you two being in art class together..."

You: "She didn't tell you anything?" Lance asked, blinking. Okay, he and Pidge /seriously/ needed to have a conversation, because he was pretty sure he knew Keith's entire goddamn life story at this point. (That was a lie, but... he knew a fair bit about him, thanks to her incessant chatter over the past few weeks of class.) "Wow. Okay. Um..." He looked down at their conjoined hands, momentarily distracted by the gentle motion of Keith's thumb against his own. "I'm not as cool as you, that's for sure. I'm... really not that interesting, actually." No wonder Pidge hadn't told him anything. "I'm a Theatre Arts major with a background in Psychology... Long story. Not that interesting," he added with a sheepish smile. "But I work at a pet store to pay the bills. It's not great, but it's... y'know. Work." He shrugged a little. "Like I said. I'm just... me. Not that interesting."

Stranger: Keith hummed, "That's pretty neat, I couldn't do theater, camera and stage shy." He informed quietly, squeezing Lance's hand gently, "... Do you actually like animals, or is it just a job that pays for you?" Keith asked, finding himself fiddling with Lance's fingers absentmindedly, since he wasn't holding his usual fidget cube.

You: Once again, Lance found himself drawn to watch Keith's fingers play against his own. It was rather endearing to watch, actually, as he fiddled gently with the digits he was holding. "Oh, I love animals," he assured Keith, looking up at his face again to answer the question. "That was how I got the job in the first place, actually. I went in to get food for my cat, and I ended up in the little room they have with kittens, helping one of the people that worked there originally put them away because they were all being... well, kittens." He laughed, shaking his head. "And then they told me to apply, because they could use a 'cat wrangler' like me," he recalled. "It's not a bad gig. I didn't know anything about anything other than cats when I first started, but I know a ton now about all sorts of animals, so it's been neat."

Stranger: Keith grabbed his phone from his bag and tapped the screen a few times, looking through his photos before clicking on one. "I have a cat too." He informed as he showed a picture of his light orange cat, who was laying up in a homemade cat tower napping. "Her name's Socks."

You: Lance let out a soft gasp when Keith pulled up the photo, gently placing his hands around Keith's and tilting the phone so that he could better see the screen. "Oh, my god. She's so precious?!" He looked from the photograph to Keith, grinning. "She's adorable. Hang on, I think I have..." He trailed off, tugging his own phone out and scrolling through it for a second before tapping on a photograph and pulling up a picture of a small grey ball of fuzz curled up in a patch of sunlight on a carpeted floor. "This is my baby," he said proudly. "Zuli's a sweetheart... Unless she gets catnip. Then she's a demon. But I love her anyways."

Stranger: Keith got off his chair a little bit to lean forward, tilting the phone so he could see better. "... She's cute, looks really young." He hummed, sitting back in his chair, refusing to let go of Lance's hand. "I remember when Socks was that small, though it wasn't all that long ago, she's not even two yet."

You: Lance clicked the lock button automatically and set his phone face-down on the table in front of him. "Yeah. She's almost a year, now, I think?" He crinkled his nose a little in thought and then nodded decisively. "Yeah. Ten months or so, I wanna say. I can't wait until she grows out of her troublemaking phase. If... she grows out of it. Does Socks still knock things off of shelves just for the hell of it?" he asked, laughing good-naturedly.

Stranger: "... Usually just her toys or nonbreakable objects." Keith informed with a hum, "She thankfully doesn't do it really often, mostly if she wants attention and I've absorbed myself in my work."

You: Lance nodded sagely. "She could teach Zuli a lesson, then," he said. "I mean, to be fair, I'm pretty sure she thinks that everything that she can reach is a toy made just for her, so it might be a moot point," he added, squeezing Keith's hand again. It was... really easy to talk to him. The conversation felt natural, and holding his hand... It all just felt /right/.

Stranger: "Look into training her a bit, that's probably the best idea. Whenever Socks would knock something off I'd spray her in the face with some water." He informed, "It didn't take her too long before she learned that wasn't something to do and stopped."

You: "She /likes/ water," Lance said with a groan, shaking his head and then dropping it down to the table briefly, bumping his forehead against their entwined fingers. "Believe me, I've tried the spray-bottle. She thinks it's a game. Little weirdo," he added affectionately. "It's mostly alright. She doesn't usually knock expensive stuff down... Just crystals off my windowsill, mostly."

Stranger: Keith laughed quietly, hesitating before letting his hand go in favor of pushing Lance's bangs from his face, "That's a little odd.. hm.. I don't know then.." He murmured, resting his head on his other hand, watching Keith with a small, tender smile on his face, "Hm? Crystals?"

You: Lance felt his face heat under Keith's touch, but he leaned into the hand brushing his forehead with a soft smile. "Oh, y'know, like... Rocks with healing properties and stuff?" He sat up again and almost immediately snuck his hand back into Keith's, lacing their fingers together once more. "Quartz, Tiger's Eye, Malachite... My older sister got me into it. She's really into the whole... Aura, Crystal, Energy thing, and she turned me onto it. I wasn't sure about it at first, but it actually kinda helps." He dug in his front pocket with his free hand for a second before coming up with a black rock, smooth, shiny and shaped into a circle. "Here, see? This is Hematite. It helps with stress," he stated, holding it out for Keith to take.

Stranger: "... Oh, I've heard a little about that.. Hunk's mentioned it to me a few times I think when he came over to make sure I wasn't dead." Keith hummed, smiling as their fingers were laced back together. ".. That's neat.. Maybe you could teach me more sometime." He requested, reaching out to touch the rock but not taking it. He had no place to put it where it wouldn't get lost after all.

You: "I'd like that," Lance said with a soft, pleased smile, placing the rock on top of his phone and then returning his full attention to Keith in front of him. "It's really kinda cool. Every rock has different properties, and helps with different things." It took him a second to take stock of the rest of what Keith had said, and then, Lance's eyes widened. "Wait. Hunk. You know /Hunk/?" He cocked his head to the side. "How do you know Hunk?"

[slendermanlore]

Just Another Fool + “Similar Situations”

While I’m on a roll of compiling vintage ARG player comments, here’s a post for the blog that integrated them the most.

August 7, 2009, Dav Flamerock comments:

Hey dude, that looks really familiar and seems to be corresponding with some research I’m doing on the myth of Slender Man. Have you ever heard of him? I have a few other case studies which I can point you to, if you like, which I’m using in my research, but if you wouldn’t mind I’d like to keep an eye on your blog and on Matt’s journal as a possible–nay, probable–source for my research. If you must contact me, the email supplied with this reply should suffice.

Thank you for your time,

~Dav Flamerock

Miskatonic University

August 7, 2009, Logan responds:

Dav,

I apologize in advance, as I don’t think you’ll find much mythy stuff here. Slender man sounds oddly familiar, although I can’t say I know what a slender man is. I’m currently out and about but I’ll check something when I get home later tonight.

August 7, 2009, Dav Flamerock comments:

The inclusion of dreams is suddenly quite interesting. How long have you been having this dream? Do you remember anything more about the voice which said “Now?” Have you been much of a dreamer before this recurring dream?

Most importantly, have you seen a tall slender man clad in a suit with a blank face, in real life?

This may be more important than you think. As before, I can be reached at my.name at gmail.

~Dav Flamerock

Miskatonic University

August 9, 2009, Logan responds:

I’m not sure how often I’ve been having the dream… A few days maybe? I haven’t had it since I wrote about it though, so I guess this pseudo-journaling thing has at least accomplished one thing. I’ve had plenty of dreams in the past, and even some that have been recurring, so I didn’t think this was particularly out of the ordinary. Also, I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything specific about the voice beyond that it doesn’t belong to someone I know. I guess it sounded like a middle aged man? It’s a bit hard to describe a random voice.

There’s been a pretty good lack of slender men clad in suits with blank faces… No worries on that front.

I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful, but feel free to tell me anything you think might be relevant.

Cheers,

Logan

August 11, 2009, Dav Flamerock comments:

I commend Dr. W for putting together the story as he has done so with such limited information from Matt. However, it is *very* curious that you have begun having these dreams after seeing the sketchbook, for obvious reasons. Have you had the dream since we last spoke? I trust you shall blog about it when you do?

I must admit, I am finding Matt’s story difficult to believe. Such a blatant act of hostility and destruction of life is not consistent with the other material I have on the Slender Man, for he has been known to be subtle and very exacting in his victims–certainly not the kind to appear in broad daylight and set fire to half a squad of battle-hardened marines. While the dream coincidence is strange, I must agree with Dr. W’s analysis. Seeing one’s friends blown apart by a suicide bomber is always a traumatizing experience.

Regards,

~Dav Flamerock

Miskatonic University

August 12, 2009, zebo2g comments:

Just a word of advice, and it MIGHT help with remembering the dream. Some people who have dreams of let’s say, winning the lottery. They enjoy the idea of it that much that some keep a notepad on their bedside table. The moment you wake up, jot down every key point you remember from that dream and report it back here and we’ll see where we can go from there.

Stay safe and be careful

August 12, 2009, zebo2g comments:

Sorry just went over the rest of your entries again, but still keep the notes of every dream and we’ll see what we can get from them. The fixation with this creature shouldn’t be taken lightly. Be careful with how far you pursue this as it could really get to you and end in you going insane. If the dreams get worse, for the sake of yourself, back off from it.

August 13, 2009, Lifegospel comments:

Hello

I am a colleague of Dav Flamerock’s, I have an understanding of dream psycology, more so than most scientists. This recurring dream can be troubling, or it could just be you saw the picture and started dreaming about it.

Either way, I will keep reading this, if you have any questions, I’ll answer them as best as I can.

-Lifegospel

September 25, 2009, Sven Vikson comments:

Joshua, I must warn you, you need to avoid this “Business man” at all costs, I can’t stress this to you any more. You may also want to avoid Logan’s journal. You are in great danger and if you aren’t careful, you could end up like him.

September 25, 2009, TheNightmareComplex comments:

Once you’ve got those pictures up, my friend, you need to burn it. Please. The cycle can end with you.

September 26, 2009, Morrigan comments:

Don’t let anyone else touch the journal or see the journal, either. Don’t even mention the journal if you haven’t already.

October 4, 2009, Ash comments:

I have a theory… I think whatever this ‘Slender Man’ is, he is a virus of sorts. The notes and drawings that your friend wrote had a horrifying affect on him, and now it’s affecting you, second hand. The same thing to what’s happening to J who’s posting the Marble Hornets videos. His friend Alex seems to have slowly degraded, and now J is showing signs of illness.

This thing is a virus, corrupting whatever it comes near.

October 5, 2009, TheNightmareComplex responds:

Virus aren’t designed to corrupt, I’m afraid, they’re designed to destroy and breed. Their only function if to multiply. I’m afraid Slender Man is more like a Cancer than anything. And that’s far more terrifying.

October 5, 2009, Lifegospel responds:

Cancer causes the immune system to attack itself, while the cancerous cells multiply, I think that as long as we’re on medical metaphors, Slender Man is more autoimmune. The body starts attacking itself, as Matt, Alex and Logan did.

October 5, 2009, Ash responds:

As long as we’re one-upping each other on the medical metaphors… ;)

He’s like the spiritual black death.

October 5, 2009, TheNightmareComplex comments:

Wow, not only is Dr. P.T. Madd a gamejacker, he’s a bad one; His pictures are straight off of Something Awful.

Nice try, jerk.

October 5, 2009, Joshua responds:

What game?

-Joshua

October 5, 2009, Dav Flamerock comments:

You don’t want to know.

Madd, if you really wanted to pass yourself off as real, you would at least do some historical research and remind yourself that Innsmouth was effectively destroyed in police action over sixty years ago.

~Dav Flamerock

Miskatonic University

October 8, 2009, Dav Flamerock comments:

Logan, you mustn’t aggravate yourself. The reward is knowledge, yes–that is why it was sent to you. That did not cause the arrival of the Slender Man, nor did it make him see you. You are not alone. You are not the only one who can see him. If you learn one thing from me, it is this:

There is no why.

Do not let your shell break. Protect your vital heart and your mind.

He is in our world. We are NOT in his. Do not let yourself fall to delirium. Do not give up hope.

~Dav Flamerock

October 18, 2009, Dav Flamerock comments:

A few details have me worried–Logan living on Ash Tree Lane (Yggdrasil), the frightening resemblance of the scratches on the cover to something too dangerous to discuss on these unreliable networks, and the two missing pages being the most important points.

Joshua, you made the right choice to rid yourself of this book.

October 27, 2009, Dav Flamerock comments:

Without going into too much detail;

I must have posted this on my youtube video, not here, but the reason Miskatonic has no web presence is because we work exclusively on Internet-2, so none of our webwork can be accessed on Internet-1 (what we are using now). I think it’s silly to be completely invisible on this network, but the esoteric have their reasons and I’m not exactly in any position to argue. As for why Miskatonic only shows up as a fictional school, such is an unfortunate side effect of the school’s desire to stay obscure. Lovecraft, as you mentioned, went there and wrote about it, and that was the first really public view to the school. As I’m sure you know, the first story sticks, and so now everyone knows it as “that school that Lovecraft wrote about.” Oh well, I’m not going to make a big deal about that either–it actually works rather well for us.

Dr. Upham is not whom I was referencing, I was referencing Dr. Ukrytywicz (and you wondered why I shortened his name). You won’t find him on the internet much, because he’s a bit secretive himself, but perhaps someone knows of him.

I don’t understand why people keep invoking the Marble Hornets entries here, due to their dissociation, but I have no power to stop you from doing so.

Good day, and have a Happy Halloween!

~Dav Flamerock

December 31, 2009, ISH comments:

Some of us are still paying attention to the trees.

Logan, Joshua. Don’t give up.

January 8, 2010, Dylan comments:

Logan is no longer suffering.

January 9, 2010, Mato comments:

He mentioned he was going to ride his motorcycle to where Logan’s cadaver is being kept, I can only hope that something similar to before hasn’t happened. Joshua if you get the chance to read these comments I recommend continuing to keep in touch with us, it could help take your mind off of things.

I’m a little worried about myself actually, ever since early December I’ve been looking into this Slenderman thing heavily. Been sick since Christmas, everything but the terrible coughing has gone away. Not seen anything strange, yet, though me being far from alone nearly 100% of the time may have something to do with that.

But as we’ve seen from other incidents, SM doesn’t seem to have any trouble toying with people that stick in groups.

March 27, 2010, Zedek comments:

As the curtains close so many from the audience try to hold it open. The Act is done, it is time to sleep and await for a chance to tell our story.

November 18, 2010, Lewis comments:

This is the end of the story. In a few months, it will be a year since anybody has posted on this blog.

Matt is dead.

Logan is dead.

Joshua is dead.

But when one story is over, a new one begins.

March 25, 2011, der ritter comments:

It is but a noise, a shadow, a warning. To see it is to deserve it. Follow the angel of death to the ark. Only the chosen shall live. The Waters of God will engulf sin. The world is his playground but everything answers to something. That something is close, rounding the forgotten planet. Repentence is aimed at something false. Humanity has failed, follow him to the ark. His origin will be the last place for salvation.

May 16, 2011, Can'tKeepUp comments:

Sometimes there are things we can’t explain, things that don’t make sense to us. It’s best not to get involved with these things but for those of you who do…stop before it’s too late.

July 10, 2011, ThroughALookingGlass comments:

It’s been over two years now. I don’t think they’re coming back.

Something bad must have happened, I think they’re gone.

I never really met any of these guys, but I understand what it is they were dealing with. After waiting for two years and recieving no updates, I’m giving up on waiting.

For the past couple of years I’ve been compiling some research and I’ve had a few close encounters of my own. I’m not going to just destroy all of the evidence and spend the rest of my life in fear, I’ll find out what happened to these two by myself. If some Monster comes after me, so be it. I’m done with all these disappearances and unsolved mysteries.

I’ll finish this.

January 31, 2013, Noxifer comments:

What begins, ends.

And with end comes a new beginning.

Life is just a highway to death.