#never made a post for chapter 4 whoops

[mapofyourstars]

these babies are having babies and falling in love in the process. read you got all my love. on ao3!

Erik helps Charles through his heat. One month and a wave of nausea later, Charles' heat is late.

[readerstories]

When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 10/?

Hello hello! Excited for new chapter, a little more world-building adjacent, hope y'all like! Before I posted this chapter I've also gone back and added some more details (and fixed some grammar/typos whoops), like reader wore gloves a lot of the time, so they wouldn't be able to meet their soulmate(s). (AO3) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn

Wordcount: 2569

Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.

Yet again, in hindsight, you should have stayed longer. Waited until they were both awake, maybe even slept some more while you waited for them (mostly Wade, since you had apparently woken Logan), and then made more concrete plans. The unplanned movie night and nap had helped, but it still didn’t take it all away, your body still aches as you unlock your apartment door.

Closing it behind you, you lean against the wall for a moment, massaging your head. It feels tender, so you press the heel of your hands over your eyes, groaning. You feel better, but not okay. Part of you wants to go back, to make it even better, but a bigger part of you wants to ignore all this soulmate shit.

So instead of leaving again, you take your shoes off, padding into the kitchen to fix yourself some coffee. It’s getting lighter outside, and it’s technically morning, so you might as well stay up.

While you wait for your coffee machine, you stick your hands in the pockets of your jacket.

There’s a piece of paper in your pocket. 

That definitely wasn’t there before.

Taking it out, it turns out to be a pink post-it note with a phone number and a small chibi drawing of Deadpool holding a gun.

Wade must have slipped it into your pocket while you slept. How deep were you sleeping for him to do that without waking you? You must have been really out of it. Or Wade just has really nimble fingers, a thought you do not let yourself expand on. 

Because, the frustrating thing is, under almost any other circumstance, they would have been your type. Two strong men who are skilled with weapons, and a little insane, you would have gladly taken either or both to bed. But mixing in the soulmate thing? Fuck that.

You crumple up the piece of paper, but throw it into your junk drawer instead of the trash, ignoring the other brief flash pink from Wade’s bandana in there. Your coffee is done, so you take your cup and walk over to the couch, the plan now being to watch some tv before going for a workout.

—---

You last about six hours before you think about the post-it again. In that time you’ve drank three cups of coffee, eaten breakfast, worked out, showered, and started watching some TV.

It’s when you spot a loose thread in your shirt and go to grab a pair of scissors from your junk drawer that you spot the post-it again. You stop, staring at the little piece of pink paper.

You should contact him. Not a call, but text him at least. Start the conversation so you don’t get as bad again. You’ve felt a lot better today, and looked it too, well enough that Dave had told you as much when you ran into him at the gym. (“Hey, look who’s not looking like he’s been chewed on and spit out by some monster! Looking good dude!”)

You spend several minutes crumpling and uncrumpling the little piece of paper, before you’re interrupted by your phone ringing, making you jump. You throw the post-it back into the drawer and slam it shut, grabbing your phone to answer Evelyn.

“Hello.” 

“You busy?”

“Nope.”

“Great, lunch? There’s this new bakery I’ve been dying to try, but Olivia’s busy today even though it’s my day off, so I’m taking you.”

“How dare she. Doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice then.”

“Nope! I’ll text you the address.”

—----

When you turn up at the place, it looks like a cute little spot. Flowers in the windows, and if you didn’t have the address, you could have followed your nose to the place. It smells of freshly baked goods and expensive coffee.

Evelyn arrives less than a minute after you, dragging you inside instantly. You chat about what to get, in the end you get a chicken sandwich, blueberry muffin, and coffee. She gets a green tea, BLT, and a slice of lemon cake.

After getting your orders, you find yourself led to a booth next to a window, where you end up sitting across from her.

“So, what’s up with you?” 

“Not much, why? What about you?”

“Just the usual. But I asked you first.” You furrow your bow as you take a bite of your sandwich, chewing a little before answering around the food in your mouth.

“And I answered.”

“Yeah, but only with ‘not much’.” You squint at her, swallowing and putting your sandwich down.

“What is this really about?” She picks at her sandwich, and takes a deep breath.

“You haven’t been looking real good lately, even avoiding working out with Dave-”

“You told me to avoid it-”

“Not for this long. But now Dave told me you’re better. You still look rough, but better.”

“Thanks.” You snort.

“Are you in some sort of trouble?”

“You’ve stitched me up enough times to know I’m often in trouble.”

“Not like this. Not like lasting trouble.” She looks worried, truly worried, not in the annoyed way she gets when you turn up on her table too soon after you promised her to keep out of anything that would need her help. 

You drag a hand over your face, biting your lip.

“It’s not….. trouble, really. Lasting for sure, but…..”

“Could you be any more non-specific or cryptic?”

“I met someone….”

“Okay…. What does….” She looks down on your gloveless hands, you fight the urge to hide them. “Oh!”

“Yeah.”

“Who? When? Where?”

“Remember the guy who slashed my chest and stomach?” You take a sip of your coffee as Evelyn stares at you with wide eyes.

“The guy you killed? How are you not- How did you not-”

“He got up afterwards. He heals, he’s some kind of mutant.”

“Oh.”

“And while fighting him afterwards, I touched him.”

“Your gloves-”

“Forgot em’.” Evelyn blinks, and after a few seconds, to your surprise, she begins to laugh. It’s quiet, but enough that she needs several tries to take a sip of her tea.

“Figures you met your soulmate when fighting him. Fitting.” She teases. “How did it go?”

“Not well, he ran, and I fucking had to track him down.” She raises an eyebrow, tearing off a piece of her sandwich.

“And how did that go?” She pops the piece in her mouth, chewing while she stares you down, very much letting you know you won’t be spared her full and undivided attention until you answer. She grabs her tea cup next, keeping eye contact.

“Considering my second soulmate tried to slice me too, not great.” She chokes on her tea, wiping her chin with her sleeve, mind too preoccupied by gaping at you to grab some napkins.

“Second?!?” You grimace.

“Yeah.” This time when she laughs, it’s a full on cackle. You feel your face heat up as she’s far from quiet. She draws the attention of quite a few other patrons, but quiets down after you kick her under the table.

“So the universe does have a sense of humor after all.”

“I don’t think it does, I just think it likes to be annoying.”

“Of course you do. But you gotta admit there’s some sort of irony in not wanting soulmates in any form, and then you get two. Do you know if it’s just strictly platonic or not?” You don’t want to answer, already so done with talking about it, but you remind yourself she’s your friend, she’s asking because she cares.

“It’s not.” You leave it at that, she gives a little smirk, though it quickly transforms into a frown.

“But you’ve been looking and feeling like shit for a while. Which…..” She sits up, leaning on her elbows on the table, staring you down. You feel like you’re in the principal’s office after pulling a prank that’s gone too far. “Have you been avoiding them?” She fucking knows you, so of course it’s an easy guess to make. You grind your teeth, but nod. In return you get your full legal name, which is never good.

“You know you should fucking take care of yourself, even if it means doing shit you don’t want.” She doesn’t grab your shoulders and shake you, but you assume she’s not far from doing it. “Are they not your type?”

“Um, well yes, but-”

“Then no buts, they are made for you, and you for them.”

“I’m not made for anyone, I don’t want the universe to decide for me.”

“Or are you just afraid of being seen?”

“I thought you were my friend, not my therapist.”

“I don’t need to be your therapist to know you.” She jokes, her smile slipping into something more fond as she looks at you picking at your nails. “I’m just your friend, and I just want what's best for you.”

“How do you, or the ‘universe’-” Here you do air quotes with a grimace. “-for that matter, know what's good for me?”

“Do you?” Annoyingly she is right. “But you looked like less shit yesterday, even worked out.”

“How did-” You cut yourself off and cross your arms, hiding your bare hands from her view. “Dave, of course.”

“He was worried about you, as we all were. But back to it, you looked less like shit. Which means….” She gestures at you. “You did go see them.”  You look out the window, watching people pass for a few seconds. You wish you were out there, in the throng of people, not talking about something you don’t want to even think about over the minimal needed amount.

“Well, I reached my limit. Felt like someone had thrown me in a cement mixer with rocks, and then tried to cave my skull in, so I went back to their place.” She sips on her tea as you look back at her.

“And…?” She prompts as you keep quiet.

“Not much. They ate, we all watched a Barbie movie which I fell asleep during, then I left.”

“Left or ran like a dog with his tail between his legs?” Oh, how wonderful it is to have friends that know you.

“Something like that.” 

“Did you even plan anything for the future? It clearly didn’t fully stop you feeling and looking like shit-” She gestures to you, you roll your eyes.

“Thanks.”

“How are you even going to contact them again? Just turn up and hope they’re home?”

“We didn’t plan for much, but I did get Wade’s number.”

“So call him and set up a date.”

“Don’t call it that.”

“Meeting then.” She rolls her eyes. “You need to, literally.” You rub your face, pinching your nose.

“I know, believe me, I am very much aware.” You glance up at her, and her gaze softens. She puts her hand out on the table, palm up, you put one of yours in hers. She turns it over, grasping it with both hands, massaging your palm with her thumbs.

“I’m happy for you though.” You don’t voice your disagreement on that, you know she means well even though you’re sure she knows your response without you needing to say it out loud. “Promise you’ll call?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Or else I would have banned you from dinners for three months.” You gasp over-dramatically.

“You bitch!” You take the offering of being able to dissipate the heavy talk, switching to wax poetically about her wife’s cooking instead.

—----

Several hours and a lot of chatting later, you’re home again. 

Your junk drawer still holds the post-it note, the pink paper being easy to spot on top of all sorts of bits and bobs.

You grab it, unfolding it again. Taking a deep breath, you pull out your phone. You decide to just start with a simple ‘Hi’ signed with your name.

Then stare at your phone for ten seconds as it almost instantly starts ringing, Wade’s number shining up at you.

“Fucking hell.” You mutter to yourself. “Hi.” Is what you start with as you answer it.

“Fucking finally, was starting to feel like a prom queen stood up during homecoming, I even wore my good panties!” You have to hold the phone away from your ear, as along with Wade’s words, there’s wind blowing into the speaker, crackling.

“Where the fuck are you?” You put the phone closer, luckily having just a minimal amount of trouble hearing him over the wind.

“Ohhhh, are we doing the fun thing of you picturing me somewhere sexy? I am so down for phone s-”

“No Wade, the audio is just awful.”

“Oh, that’s what happens when you answer a phone while riding a bike.” You rub your forehead, feeling a headache forming as you close your junk drawer.

“Is your handsfree that shitty or are you just holding it normally?”

“Nothing I do is normal, pookie, but don’t worry, Logan is the one driving. Say hello Wolvie.” You don’t hear anything except more wind. “He just told me to fuck off for holding my phone in front of his face, don’t think the phone picked up his sexy rumble.”

“It didn’t pick up shit except wind.” You lean your elbows on the kitchen counter, hearing Wade fumble with the phone.

“Logan, stop for a sec! Yes I know we are- Come on! I’ll blow you for being nice later.” Again you don’t hear if Logan responds, but the wind dies down, and now you can hear a bike rumbling, even more clearly as you’re put on speaker phone.

“There we go! Now you can hear both of our sexy voices!”

“You could have just waited, or just texted.” 

“Texting and driving is dangerous!” 

“Didn’t you just say you weren’t driving? And didn’t you have to have an arm free to answer your phone?” You move away from leaning on the kitchen counter, heading towards the couch instead.

“Yes, but texting would have needed both hands loose, I’m a double thumb texter I’ll have you know, and the fabric of the suit is a bitch to get out road rashed skin.” You hear Logan snort, and then a smack. “Anywho, you reached out. Finally missing us?” Your body certainly is, you wince as you sit down on your couch.

“Not in the slightest, but since we’re kind of stuck together, I thought we should at least set up a specific meeting time instead of a vague plan of once a week.”

“I know you said you would see Logan in a week-,” You’re not sure if you are imagining the brief sour tone in Wade’s voice. “-but what about tomorrow at 5 pm? At our place.” Wade offers before Logan speaks up for the first time, his gruff voice almost vibrating through the phone speaker.

“We got dinner with Peter tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah! Hmmmmm, day after, noon, our place?” Logan doesn’t object at the time, so you agree. 

“Sure.” You don’t know what to say next, but are saved by hearing something nearing in the background. It takes a beat for you to realise what it is.

“Are those sirens?” 

“Whoops yeah, that would be our sign to get going.” You hear the rev of the bike’s engine, then the wind starts back up. “Kisses and smooches, pookie, don’t be late!” Wade hangs up, leaving you staring out into space.

What has the universe gotten you into?

[wings-of-ink]

Alright, everyone!

HERE ARE THE ASKS YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR

Below the cut are the asks and my answers/responses. I do apologize for not answering these individually, but some of them contain spoilers for chapter 5 content. Given the developments and reveals of the chapter, I want to let things simmer a bit before I pop off responses like normal.

If my Nonies listed below want to pop back into the ask box and let me know they got their answer, I would appreciate that, but you don't have to either (or if you have an additional question or comment, that's fine too!). I will reblog this a few times to make sure you have a higher chance of spotting it.

I numbered the Asks and put my answers in another color so you can tell things apart a bit easier. This is a trial run on answering these this way. I will also tag things for spoilers. ^_^

Anon:  "There's a she-wolf in the closet" made me laugh so hard I cried sdfjglkjl I was not expecting that out of nowhere 🤣😭  the temptation to name the wolf Shakira...............immense.

I'm so glad you got that reference! My husband and I sing that song to each other with the little "awoos" and all, lol. It was too good to pass up. Fun fact, if you name her Shakira, Oswin has a unique response. 

2. Anon:  Hmmm. "I like the name Aster I'll probably use it again" HMMMMM hMMMMM hmmmMMMM Is this new Aster the ??? RO

Remembered that, did ya 😁 (I was quietly cackling when I wrote that for the old ask). You questioning Aster just makes me want to mess with you Nony, you can't tempt me like this! 

3. Anon:  Aster is so hawt, carressing our cheek w his thumb???? "i wont hurr you" pls let him be an ro bc gah damnnnn

Glad that did it for you, Anon, lol. There will be more of that in store. ^_^

4. Ravioli anon here, hope you remember me LOL I just finished reading the new chapter and I HAD A BLAST The whole gang in here now!!!!!! Aster is no longer question marks!!!! (I will admit when they were introcuded I almost, ALMOST expected their name in game to just be ???)

Hello Ravioli! Still chuckling about that I hope you know. The temptation was unreal to leave ??? in there, lol. At this point, even I know him more by that than his name!

Also to keep up with my perfect choice of names, my she-wolf is now named Der, because together we are Ravi and Der Get it, Ravi 'n Der. Consider this as a way to honor our dear grandma we were named after by our loving dads, you'll never be forgotten, you girlboss of a woman 

OMG, you are killing me over here, lol. This makes me want to code something for that, lol. Just your fathers shaking their heads at your MC while still being kinda amused and weirdly proud. Grandmother Ravinder would glare at you, but smile later.

5. @origamihoshi: Screaming about the necklace Oswin gives MC, my headcanon about MC wearing the snail shell as a necklace can now be canon! and I guess more reasons for my MC to be down bad for Oswin oops. I'm loving the update! I'm so happy to finally meet Rune, I love them so much! I wanna befriend them all. and I feel like there's been a good balance to spend time with all the characters so far and that makes me really happy. 😌Also cuddling with Zahn was so sweet oh my god, I love them so much too! I got so many more questions about MC and the curse, and the mark for that matter, looking forward to when we finally get some answers.

I very, very nearly told you that when you posted your MC, I was so ecstatic. I thought if you while coding that section too. I am so glad you enjoyed the new chapter and new goodies. Lots of fun stuff to come! ^_^

6. @mutsuowo:  HELP I NAMED THE SHE-WOLF ASTER BECAUSE I FIRST CALLED THE MULE YARROW AND NOW I HAVE NOT ONE, NOT TWO BUR THREE ASTER* GOING AROUND (I know one changed to Lakota but the joke that count)

Whoops! Lol Sorry my friend! I don't think any more Asters are hiding about at least. Probably….

7. @mutsuowo: I got spoiled of Aster's name by accident and even then I mistook it for being Lakota, so I thought somehow Lakota had a divorce and took the children to be an option romance with the MC. Cue to me acting like a variety game host and going "We have a cult member, a magician, childhood friends and also a wolf...what about you Aster ? What do you bring to make we choose you ?" The answer was being a DILF

Lol! Oh dear, yeah, bestie has a quarter-life crisis and leaves his wife and 4 kids to live that DILF life. Love it, this is some quality daytime TV stuff. 😆 

8. Anon:  Hello there! I am currently in the middle of the newest chapter, very very good work! Spoiler ahead : So MC is absorbing magic? That might actually help the theory that somehow MC is a god, demi-god, or whatever that is: cursed because they are on this plane and needing magic as a very part of their being? I can't imagine that a god wouldn't be starving for magic if deprived of it. Perhaps in GC it's not magic gods handle, but something similar? The fact that we CHOSE the mark truly makes me think that somehow we were choosing an aspect of ourselves for some reason. Not only something physical either. If not our domain, perhaps a tell of why we were cursed in the first place ? I wonder if, before the Curse manifested, MC would have been flagged as a magic being ? I don't think there was anybody that could have sussed them out back then though ? Rune is amazing, btw, big fan. Can't wait for Purple Lad to accompany us and need a bath as badly as Duri did !

Oooh, are you perhaps my Nony who sent some other theories in about this? Very juicy theory as well. Next chapter you'll learn a bit more about Hayat's curse over the gods and see if it lines up or changes your thoughts more. 😁 I'm glad you like Rune too! They are in for a new experience for sure. Even if they aren't as stuffy as other nobles, they definitely appreciate more refined things. The little town MC grew up in might be a bit of a culture shock. 

9. Anon:  Sooooo... I'm thinking we ARE the mad god ! A reincarnation of it at least ! Thinking about how the cult wanted us dead, I am thinking that as long as MC is alive, they can't have another incarnation of them.   But What exactly was it that drove the god mad ?

Oooh! This one is juicy too! These theories are so tasty! Lots of questions with this one. And like the one above, there may be some info in chapter 6 that may just give more evidence one way or another.

10. Anon:  Me on my first playthrough: oh, Oswin's pretty cute! I think I'll try romancing him first Me when I meet Zahn: oh no you can't just make me choose like that how am I supposed to do this Me when I meet Duri: are you kidding me. Ok screw it I'm romancing Duri Me when I meet Rune: FUCKAIJASJDSAAA Me when I meet ???: No reaction because I'm already combusted. I can't even anymore 

Lol! I am glad and maybe just a tiny bit sorry that you're so torn, my dear. Let's find some glue and get you patched up… ^_^

11. Anon:  HAVE THEORIES! NATHAN IS DURI'S UNCLE, AND ASS-TER -HE DESERVES THAT AFTER THE RING BUSINESS >:( - WAS RAISED BY THOSE ASSHOLES WHO ALMOST KIDNAPPED MC! (I am open to Asster endearing himself later, but I'm mad at him rn, how dare he hurt my already hurt, lovely, MC 😡😡😡) Anyway, your writing is impeccable as always, can't wait to (perhaps) bring Asster to his knees (with love or spite, or maybe both?? He seems like someone easy to love-hate, lol). Tysm, for God Cursed, I love it <333

Yaaass, moar theories! That's a good one too! Nathan having some secrets wouldn't be shocking either. They'd get along too… And it is totally fair for MC to be salty! And ASSter is a perfect nickname, lol. It's also fair that in chapter 6 you'll be able to (try to) get after him about it. :3

12. Anon:  TW SPOILERS ''There is nothing I want more than to hear you…hear you say what you- Nothing more… But for your own sake. Y/N, I'm a monster. I have been a monster. Your heart should be free of thoughts of me until you know what haunts my sleep at night. If you can do that for me and your heart does not change, then I will hear those words and I will spend the rest of my days showing you what you mean to me.'' UUUUHHMMMMM, EXCUSE MEE?????? LIKE THIS IS THE MOST-ROMANTIC-NON-LOVE-CONFESSION I HAVE EVER HEARD??? EVEN THOUGH IT BURNS ME TO NOT KNOW WHAT AFFLICTS OSWIN, AFTER HEARING THAT I'M WILLING TO WAIT FOR HIM.

I love that you love this! I might have cried juuuust a little bit when I wrote that scene, lol (shocking, I know).

13. Anon:  replayed the IF from the start for the update and gosh i felt so bad for our dear MC who has gone through SO much in a (relatively) short amount of time. and the way MC just always thinks about their fathers makes me sobbbbbb. one that always gets me is the scene where MC cried out for their fathers when they were in pain (my heart broke when they said they wanted to be held by their papa). another is in the scene with jasper and co. (‘i learned it from my fathers!’, yesss go MC!!!!). but oh, just imagining the absolute heartbreak the fathers would feel if they knew how MC cried out for them and knew about everything that MC went through, makes me tear up! MC is SO loved by their fathers and MC loves them just as much and i love that. i hope we’ll be able to give da and papa the biggest hugs when we see them again 🥹wonderful update, author! i absolutely adore the world you’ve built and the brilliant characters you’ve created (shout out to one my favs.. our new she-wolf friend <3)

I set out on this IF journey intending to be a bit hard on the MC and I think I succeeded, lol. It might be hard to believe but I really do love the MC as a character too and I feel for them. Hopefully not too hard, but they're on a journey of perseverance so I have faith in them. ^_^ That scene really tore me up too, especially thinking about how hard it would hit the dads to know their beloved kid was calling out to them. 😭 I am so glad you enjoyed the update, my dear, there will be great big dad-hugs in the future, I promise (and more than a few tears). ^_^

14. Anon:  idk if it's choice or route-specific but, zahn was NOT looking good at the end of chapter 5 and i'm worried 😟

Not route-specific (unfortunately???)…they're…going through some things. 😬 (sorry in advance)

15. Anon:  Hi, hi!! Dropping by to blabber about the update after i've finally had time to lose myself in it! (Oh no it got long again.) Okay, so, from the very moment i saw your intro post (over half a year ago, methinks) i decided to go for Rune's route first. I have been very patient, very faithful. And now i can finally say it was so, so worth the wait!!! they have me wrapped all around their beautiful noble finger; they're perfect, they are everything (i mean, how many people can say a literal god shows up for their birthday? yeah, thought so). I know they are no exception either and have their own share of issues, but honestly? that's even better. I wish i was kidding about the amount of times i daydream about them. Look at me now how i'm smiling like a stupid idiot. And the fact that i can make my MC an absolute shy mess around them is just so!! *chef's kiss* 

"Oh no it got long again" is like the tagline for my existence, lol. I am so giddy that you adore Rune! I think they've had less traction since they weren't introduced until now, but I also believe they are just the type of person that is better experienced. I enjoy writing all of the ROs, but Rune is such a presence in my heart and I really hope that comes through.

Also, did Duri seriously rat them out like that? Umm, for science, of what nature, exactly, are the books under Runey's bed?

LOL and I'm so glad you caught that bit about their "hidden literature." Rune LOVES romance novels, including the ridiculous smutty ones even if the plot is kinda bad.

Anyway, moving on, because you fed us so well with the story once again!! Can i just say i love your brain? Can i? Is that weird? Apologies. So!

You can totally say that, lol. I appreciate that you think so, my brain frustrates me sometimes, but I like how smooth it is. Very soft.

We learned so much in this update, and yet our answers are still too far to reach--but that's the whole fun about this! I'm thinking things, i'm suspecting, but i'll hold onto my theories for now… It is indeed very fortunate that each of MC's new friends can seemingly contribute a piece to this vexing puzzle; question is, is the picture only missing the very last piece, or are all four needed for it to be complete? I'm folding my hands and patiently waiting to find out in future updates. 

Oooh, you're speaking my language, Nony. There are some theories up above, maybe those will get your mind spinning too. That's a very good question though too. Eveyone seems to have something that might help MC out…so the question could be, do they go full Power Rangers and combine them to solve this problem or is one strong enough on their own? Hmmmmm? Time will tell.

One thing i will say is, more people may know about MC and their whole deal than Oswin may want to even consider. People with not the best intentions, that is.

I'm sure it's fiiiiiine. Probably just a…crazy…crazy fluke. It's fine. 😀

Speaking of, Oswin is so sweet! He cares so much i think it's rending him apart. Perhaps he should partake of Nathan's pipe every now and then. You know, for recreational purposes. Frankly i admit i don't know how mean you still can be to Oswin because every time there's a choice during his scenes i just tunnel-vision to the friendliest one there. It really makes me feel sorry for him if there are MCs out there who are still bitter about their relationship. As he was opening up about what kinds of actual horrors he witnessed and had to deal with in consequence, it really made me think MC's little group should, as a side-quest, go out and find him a therapist, because this guy *slaps him on the back* can fit so much trauma in him!

That's a good way to describe Oswin. He feels very intensely and those emotions are difficult for him to manage. I try not to be too mean to him, but I do want to try and give a decent variety of responses to the past tension for some MCs. Negativity there isn't a huge focus, so I try not to go too far down the rabbit hole with it at least, lol. A therapist is a great idea for him, for real. You cracked me up with that reference, I imagine Lakota trying to sell him to the MC, lol.

 I see Zahn has entered the trenches(TM). Just after i had them repeatedly stabbed in MC's place. And just after they finally got to cuddle with MC. This is fine. Not gonna lie, for a solid second you had me believe we wouldn't see them come back from that totally not evil or at least highly doubtful church of theirs, and that we'd had to leave without them. Haha, no waay. Lunan wouldn't do that to them, right? Right? Oh thank gods. See? I was right. Anyway, it seems like their character development arc is coming up soon, so i'm keeping calm and not cracking my knuckles, not at all.

Oh yes, there will be some development soon here. Tee hee?

Duri is so fun. Their playfulness is so endearing, so much so that i find myself repeatedly swayed in my decision to have them in a (now mostly) platonic relationship with MC. Simmer down, you'll have your turn. It had me rolling how they snapped once the bandits insulted their feet lmao! Also, also, their dynamic with Rune? Mmm, so good. I love the kind of friendship that's like "yeah i picked up this weird wet dog one day and now it won't leave me be and it's annoying, but only i'm allowed to say that. here, have a treat."

I love that you love that. Writing Duri is fun and I get to break some social norms with them so it's a win-win for us all. The relation to Rune is a blast.

Moving on, Duri sniffing MC after they talked with someone they didn't know; Duri immediately leaping at the opportunity to tease a jealous MC; Duri coming to MC's rescue to put a harasser in their place--they can't keep getting away with being so charming! Oh wait, they can. Human laws don't apply to them, after all.

Duri is already so loyal. Like a pup you picked up at the shelter, the connection is pretty quick for them. Also, if you didn't know, you can also get Rune to get defensive of MC being harassed in the tavern. Currently thinking of changing the code of that, but if you choose to stay neutral or a bit distrustful of Duri, Rune will get involved instead. Both have the confidence and the power to back it up though, can't go wrong.

And Aster? Something is up with him. Big time. Bost obviously, his name. I don't know, i don't know, i'm not convinced it's a coincidence or merely "fate." I'm watching you, Aster. Okay, and yes, i see why MC might need his help, but he never once elaborated on that part where he said he needs MC for power. Sooo, naah, i'm not putting my egg in your basket, not yet. Especially!! After he so brutally demonstrated just how much of a bigger hand he has over MC. That was evil. (In a good way.) He's unhinged, and i love that in a character. I would not trust him even with a cheese grater.

That may be wisdom here for sure, lol. Aster is quite the character, as are all of them I suppose. All have secrets he especially has some serious growing to do. He'll be an interesting addition - and a very smug one at that. Maybe juuuust maybe MC can get him to feel a little remorse for being an ASSter, to quote a previous ask, lol.

I almost thought MC's group of friends were going to mistake him for the kidnapper and everyone would want to throw hands, or would at least be very leery of him, so seeing how easily he slotted in had me a little surprised (and i think he was a bit surprised himself).

That very nearly happened actually. I cut it because of chapter length, and I'm thinking I want to polish the ending for that anyway. I feel like I was burnt out while writing that and I pushed it too fast. So, we'll see what happens in future….

I really, really liked the option of having MC be scared of him after he put a cork (dart) in Jasper's mouth (throat). The head tilt afterwards? Wiping away a stray tear? "Now come sit with me on my picnic blanket designer cloak to talk about how everything is drawn to you, including me?" "I'll need to study you?" Yes, i'll take your entire stock.

I'm glad you enjoyed your dessert, Nony. ;) There will be some serious studying in the next chapter.

Oswin being extremely quiet while MC was recounting their failed abduction because he was still recovering from those 6 panic attacks he had since finding MC's room empty and with signs of struggle.

THIS absolutely. MC may get an account of the experience later.

 i can't wait to see what the dads are going to say about each of MC's new friends! I can already imagine who might not entirely vibe with whom, especially if papa and da are going to be in a sour mood after they see my (feral despite being the healer of the party) MC scarred and sore despite their letters containing nothing but rainbows and sunshine (oops). MC's right, though, how are they going to house so many people lol.

This will be so much fun, especially when it comes to sleeping arrangements…A couple ROs will get themselves sorted but there's a couple that we might just get a "one bed" trope with, lol.

And last but not least, MC got the promised puppy!!! (i named her "Ginger" <33) 

Oh that is such a cute name too! She is kinda the color of ginger and she's also very gentle (ginger) AND she can be very spicy if you piss her off. Very gingery.

I have been here before and gushed about your writing on multiple occasions and i don't want to repeat myself over and over, so i'll just reiterate once more that i'm constantly blown away by how real and vivid you make everything feel. You're putting things down and i'm picking them right up, thank you, thank you, yup, i'll have that as well, thank you. You're painting pictures inside my head, and they're gorgeous and vibrant and moving now--hey, how did you even get in here? I'm convinced you're a mage. MC is not the mage here (yet?), but you sure are!! It's okay, you may fess up now. As always, thank you so much for all your hard work! May your holidays be full of joy and rest! Take care <333

I am so thankful that you resonate so much with my writing, my friend. That really truly makes my heart so glad and encourages me to keep at it. I hope each chapter brings you more and more enjoyment and adventure. ^_^

16. @rhiannon02:  IM SCREAMING OVER CH 5 LITERALLY SCREAMING ASTER ??? IM IM LOSING IT

Well, hang on dear, maybe I can help you find it, lol. (I heard that one in my soul) ^_^

That's all for now! ^_^

[mer-acle]

Okay it's that time. I just kinda wanna talk about the nightmare sequence in this chapter of Fighting to be Loved, specifically what's real/ what actually happened bc I love to yap about what i wrote whoops

1. The athletics festival where Pallas got killed did take place in the courtyard, and Zeus, Hera and Poseidon were all there for it.

2. Someone pointed out that it's implied that Athena rewatched the moment of Pallas's death with time dives many times, and that person is correct, that's exactly what happened. Like the goddess of strategy wouldn't try to analyze her own mistake in that moment, trying to understand what went wrong.

3. Athena doesn't really speak or cry as she tries to staunch the bleeding, both of which she originally very much did. The nightmare is kinda meant to take her voice away bc she feels very powerless right now.

4. Pallas did call Athena "Thena" in reality. Nobody is surprised.

5. The whole scene with Triton is unfortunately pretty accurate to reality as well, he was very rough with her in that moment both verbally and physically. So yeah. That slap did happen.

6. Also her kinda flashing back to learning to dive is in reference to what I laid out in this post. I'm kinda just sighing at Triton in tired exasperation.

7. When Triton demands Zeus to take his daughter back, that's pretty much where we leave reality and enter the fucked up world of Athena's guilt-ridden mind. Bc in reality Zeus yielded pretty quickly (Poseidon was like 'you cannot ask them to keep her, not under these circumstances')

8. So yeah actually Zeus said exactly nothing of what he does in the dream. Surprising, I know. The thing is, he wouldn't even taunt Athena with her love for others bc he just expects her to be cold, so if anything she'd be scolded for it. Which still sucks. He made a big fuss about the whole "Pallas Athena" situation so he actually never acknowledges that title of hers, not even in anger, bc he is personally offended that she insisted on it despite him not wanting her to.

9. Also the most obvious, literally nobody in the family made any prayer even close to this one.

10. Zeus definitely makes comments along the lines of "I shouldn't have let you out of my head." when he's angry at Athena. Very much the "be grateful I birthed you" route. So yeah. Athena has like all the reasons to feel unwanted in general bc honestly the only parental figure who unconditionally loved her is literally the immortal equivalent of dead. Poor owl

So yeah that was that fucked up scene I wrote, stay tuned for more LOL.

[majorproblems77]

Sacred realm, Sacred realm, Sacred realm!!!!!

OH BOY, I AM EXCITED ABOUT THIS ONE

Prepare yourself for the most excited screaming you've ever heard because this update is wonderful and I love it and I'm so excited about it that I'm writing this instead of sleeping and it will be worth it.

Set the clock its 12.45am lets see if I can do this before I have to go to bed for the morning shift.

Alright, now for the important stuff! Sacred realm belongs to @zelda-the-sacred-realm, and all art from the comics belongs to the comic artist. I've got their permission to do these!

Link to the comic can be found here! :D

Now, get some popcorn and if your like me probably an energy drink too and lets goooooo!

Firstly...

HI

HELLO THERE

OH MY

Big evil big bad. Who's hair is stunning i could never ngl.

(Investigates)

It's awesome to see the black knight like this. (I believe that's right? Correct me if I'm wrong.)

Though im trying to figure out what he found unexpected? Is it Sky? Is Sky the unexpected thing? Good, No body expects the blorbo to come out of the medallion and whoop ass.

Self-sacrificing boy please you are in pain

Cinnamon roll link please i know you're not used to this, but he's got this

He's so damn pretty dammit, pretty boy right here. Hylia chose him for his looks first, 10/10.

Yesssssssssss

GET THEM! GET IT!

THE FACT THAT THEY JUMP IN FRONT OF HIM IS GIVING ME SO MUCH LIFE THEY ARE LIKE PROTECTIVE UNCLES OF THE SMALL CINAMON ROLL.

Like low key look how Sky is moving he's pushing towards time but moving more to the right to do so then time is. Which would indicate that he's moved rather quickly to get in front of this thing.

They have to protect the small hero and it gives me life.

Okay, this all but confirms this isn't the first time they've done this.

Oh and it has to be said

BY THE POWER OF STUBBORN FRIENDSHIP!

That's a practised spell

(using a few panels from this update here) Chapter 4 - part 1

So, I think that the last time the spirits gathered was sometime around when Twilight was still alive, we know that Time had direct contact with Twilight because of the comic panels in the last update.

We also know that Time recognised Sky when he first appeared in the last update.

So there one of two explanations

The medallion or something akin to it has been used in a previous hero's journey. And so some of the spirit already know each other

Or being a spirit grants them foresight that they can just fight with each other like this.

Im more inclined to lean towards the first one at this stage because of that recognition from time but to be honest I think we need to meet Twilight first before we get any answers about that.

I am also going to assume the element that time yields is Electricity (Or time haha.)

It looks like lightning, but we've also seen him use a time spell so I'm not entirely sure at this stage.

Gonna lean towards lighting tho, it suits him

YEAH GET HIM!

He looks so tired, and the lines against him have been growing longer. I assume its more and more of the barrier sucking his energy away.

Pretty boy alert

i am once again an advocate for the Sky is the Best Bean Club he just needs a nap he's going to be fine

Also, Medalion jails for Sky because he's eepy.

I assume this is how we are going to keep Sky out of this arch, he is too tired and is resting from doing this now. I hope we see you soon blorbo!

HA

This made me chuckle, Time just grabbing him by the waist like the child he is brings me joy (Im aware Link isn't a child but he is in the cinnamon roll outfit right now so he is a child)

And time is older than him and is at current the only one who can help with the current predicament.

We interupt the end of this post for a Sky appreciation segment because he is the best bean and is my blorbo and got a bunch of great panels this update

He

Being the hero

Jumping into harm's way

The face of determination

He

Sleepy

Sleepy boy we got sleepy sky and I love him

Okay im done, We shall get back to the end now.

That's everything from me! :D

I hope you enjoyed my rambling please do let me know if you spotted anything I didn't! Thanks for hanging out with me and for uhh, also hanging out as I yell excitedly about my blorbo because, to be honest, I love him and it wouldn't be something from me if I didn't soooo....

Yeah!

Thanks again to the artist for letting me do this! I really appreciate it!

Have a great night!

[fanfoolishness]

a rain that sounds like home (7/8)

After the destruction of Tantiss, the Bad Batch is safe at last. As Crosshair begins to recover from his injuries, it becomes apparent that not all of his scars are physical, and that guilt and grief are wounds that cut deeper than any blade. His family is determined to be there for him -- if only he can let them in.

Canon-compliant, focusing on PTSD, amputation recovery, and sibling grief, with plenty of whump, hurt/comfort, and emotional catharsis. Set shortly after the return from Tantiss and my fic Breaching the Wall. 43,000 words total.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 8

Chapter 7: Release.

Echo brings a gift for Crosshair, but things go wrong when Crosshair's trauma finally catches up to him. Crosshair and Omega POV. 7818 words. Art post here.

---

“So how’s it feel to take a break from saving the galaxy?” Crosshair asked.  He sat perched on a rocky outcropping ringing a small natural pool, his feet submerged in the water, toes digging into the sand.  Batcher waded placidly in the surf beyond the rocks before taking off to chase after Omega, who let out a whoop of delight before running over to where Hunter and Wrecker were building a citadel out of sand and stones.

Echo chuckled from where he sat beside Crosshair, reaching up with his left hand to shade his eyes.  While there were clouds smudging the horizon, the sun was still fierce today.  “You’ve got a high opinion of what we’ve been up to.”

”Tell me I’m wrong,” Crosshair challenged.

”We like to think we’re making a difference,” said Echo.  “Time will tell.  But we’ve been able to start cleaning up some of Tantiss’ messes.  Hemlock had smaller operations elsewhere and we’ve been able to start shutting them down.  We’ve gotten more clones out.”

Crosshair nodded.  “Good.”  His mouth quirked to one side.  “Cody?”

”No.  Sorry, Crosshair.”

Crosshair nodded.  He knew Echo would have told him, but he couldn’t help but ask.  

“So what do you think?” Crosshair asked.  He gestured to Hunter and Wrecker, now being half-buried in the sand by Omega.  Batcher rolled around in the sand, making funny little noises that carried on the breeze to where Crosshair and Echo sat.  

“I think Pabu suits you all,” Echo said.  He smiled.  “The house is great.  Never pictured you or Hunter being domestic, but it works.  And Omega — she’s really happy here, isn’t she?”

”She is.  She misses you, but she gets it.”  Crosshair reached up, wiping the sweat from his brow. 

We miss you, he thought but didn’t say.

They fell silent.  Crosshair gazed into the pool, noting little fish with small tendrils around their mouths darting near his feet.  A crab-like creature in fluorescent violet crept at the far end of the pool, waving two pairs of pincers and dancing back and forth.  The tentacles of blue and green anemones drifted back and forth with every small movement of the water.

“Did you bring it?” Crosshair asked in a low voice.

”Yeah,” said Echo.  “Just waiting on you.  Did you tell the others?”

Crosshair rubbed his right arm.  “No.  Not yet.  I wanted to make sure….”  His voice trailed.

”That it would work?”

”Uh-huh.”

”We can have AZI come by anytime.  After dinner or —“

Crosshair pictured Wrecker peering over his shoulder, Omega’s wide eyes, Hunter grimly watching.  He couldn’t take that kind of pressure.  “Maybe just you and me.”  

“We could sneak off.  But we’ll need a distraction…”

They watched as Wrecker erupted from the sand, chasing after Omega like some kind of crazed monster, clouds of sand flying everywhere with each leap he took after her.  Hunter roused himself from his own sand prison, letting out a whoop as he ran after them.

Echo snorted.  ”Yeah, that’ll work.”

---

They put in the call to AZI a few minutes later, once they got back to the house.  The droid had set up a little medical clinic in Upper Pabu but also made house calls.  Crosshair and Echo sat in the kitchen, waiting for the droid to arrive.  

On the table before them sat a sleek chromium crate.  Crosshair stared at it, his leg jittering under the table.  He bit down on his toothpick, shredding it between his teeth.  At last he reached out and flipped the lid of the crate open to look inside.

A metallic hand lay in the box, glinting beneath the lights.  He picked it up gingerly, cradling it in his left hand, holding it near his stump.  Its joints curled slightly with its own weight as he shifted it.  It was colder than he’d thought it would be, but it matched the size of his real hand closely.  He tried to picture it articulating, gripping, holding a blaster — or a razor.  His face twisted and he set it back down within the crate.

”Synthskin is harder to get,” Echo said quietly.  “I can keep looking —“

Crosshair shrugged.  “A glove’s fine.”

“You ready for this?”

”Not exactly.  But it’s not like I was ready to lose it, either.”

The door chimed, and Crosshair got up to key it open.  The medical droid hovered there cheerfully, flying in with a twirl.  

“CT-9904!  CT-1409!  It is a pleasure to see you both today. I understand you are in need of my services for attachment of a prosthetic.  How are you feeling, CT-9904?”

”Fine.  Can we get on with it?” he asked, fighting back his nerves.

”Very well.  Where would you like us to proceed?”

“Maybe the bedroom,” Crosshair said.  “I don’t know about doing surgery in the kitchen.”  

Echo laughed.  “Might not be the most hygienic, depending on who’s cooking.”

They moved to the bedroom, and Crosshair had to admit the droid was efficient, scanning his arm as soon as he sat down.  Echo sat beside him.

“Your healing has progressed well, CT-9904.  Your amputation site should be able to support this prosthetic without complication.”

”All right.”  That, at least, he hadn’t failed at.

“I will begin by installing the interface between the organic components of your arm and nervous system and the cybernetics of the prosthetic.”  The droid hovered over to him, taking his arm, a flurry of needles pricking his skin and numbing it before the droid held up something that looked like a slender microchip.  Crosshair looked away, feeling only a faint sense of pressure.  “The installment is not permanent.  You will be able to remove the prosthetic as desired, whether it is for cleaning, repairs or replacement.  Simply twist and release to undo the locking mechanism.”

”All right so far, Crosshair?” Echo asked.

Crosshair nodded, his mouth a thin line.  Until he remembered what the droid had just said.  “What do you mean, there’s an interface?” Crosshair asked.  “That’s just where it attaches, right?”

”That is what it looks like at the surface level, yes, but the interface interacts directly with the remnants of the radial and ulnar nerves, and from there to the brain.  This allows for precision control of the prosthetic and a true cybernetic melding of organic and synthetic.”

Crosshair stiffened.

”So… it would be controlled like my real hand?”

”Yes.  With practice, you should be able to achieve proficiency and dexterity equal to that of your natural hand.”

Echo’s eyes widened slightly, understanding his fear, but he didn’t say anything.

Are you saying it’s in my head?

Crosshair’s mouth went dry.  “What if I — I don’t want it to interface?  Couldn’t I turn that off?”

”That is the only way the prosthetic will function,” AZI said.  “It is a feature of its design.”  The droid tilted his head at Crosshair, blinking his huge yellow eyes.  For a moment, they looked disturbingly like Tech’s goggles. “Do you prefer I not proceed?”

He was afraid. Shaking, jerking, uncontrolled, weak…

He was terribly afraid.

But Echo had done this for him.  Omega would be proud of him for trying.  Hunter and Wrecker would ease off his back if he could show them he was getting better, especially with something big like this.

”Just get on with it,” he said.

He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth against his toothpick.  Even though he wasn’t looking, and the skin had been temporarily numbed, he could still sense a pressure, hear the sounds of clicking and whirring.  And then suddenly there was a new weight on the end of his right arm, slightly heavier than the weight of his left arm, dragging it downard unexpectedly.  

One last click, and then he felt it.

He opened his eyes with a gasp.  He stretched out his fingers, haltingly, one at a time.  The metallic fingers whirred with a soft subtle sound.  He reached out to touch the new hand with his left, and jerked backward, realizing that he could feel the sensation in both hands.

”I — I can feel it,” Crosshair said, his voice cracking.  He looked at Echo with wild eyes.  “It’s  working!”

Echo gave him a smile.  “Looks that way.”

“Your new prosthetic is fully installed,” AZI said.  “There are multiple exercises I would recommend to help accustom you to using your new hand, as it will take your brain some time to readjust.  I can review them with you now if you wish, or link them to a datapad —“

”Datapad,” said Crosshair.  “I’ll look at them later.”  He let out a long breath.  “Let me just… get used to it for now.”  He stood up, using both hands to push himself off the bed.  It was a dizzying sensation, the palm and fingers of his right hand curling around the edge of the bed, pushing upward, slackening once he rose to his feet.  “Thanks, AZI.  Echo.”

”How’s it feel?” Echo asked as they walked the droid back to the front door.  

“Strange.  But… familiar.”

The droid left the exercises on the datapad on the dining table, then took his leave.  Echo and Crosshair turned and looked at each other.

”Well, now what?” Crosshair asked.  He clasped his hands together.  He clasped his hands together.  The sensation was strange — the asymmetry between the two hands was apparent, but there were two of them.  He felt half-faint with hope, with something light and free. 

Echo looked at him proudly.  “Whatever you want, Crosshair.  What do you feel like?”

He could stop having to rely on them.  Show them he’d recovered.  Show Omega everything was fine.

He tried reaching down to the pouch of toothpicks on his belt with his right hand.  His fingers took a moment longer than usual to make the required movements, but still managed it, and he inserted the toothpick between his lips.  He flashed Echo a tight grin, and Echo laughed, clapping him on the back.  

It wasn’t long until Hunter, Wrecker and Omega tromped in, still half-soaked and shedding sand as they came through the front door.  “Oh no you don’t,” said Crosshair, getting up from where he had been sitting with Echo.  “You’ll make a mess.  Let me get you a fresh towel.”  He crossed the distance to where they stood, and held out a pile of towels in his right hand.

There was a beat.  Then a soft gasp from Omega, her hand flying up to cover her mouth.  “Crosshair!”

”You went for it!” Wrecker exclaimed.  

Hunter smiled at him.  “How’s it feel?”

”It feels fine.  Take your towels, you’re dripping,” Crosshair said coolly.  He shoved the towels at them, but couldn’t hide a smile.

”So that’s where you two went!” Omega said with a hint of accusation.  She wrapped her towel around herself and kicked off her beach shoes.  “Can I see?”

”Sure,” he said.  He held out his right arm, opening and closing the hand.  “I’ll have to find a glove.  Might scare the kids.”

”I don’t think it’s scary.  I think it’s interesting,” Omega said.  She slipped her hands over his, peering up at his face.  “Can you feel that?”

”Yes.”  It wasn’t the same as his real hand, but he could feel the pressure of her grip, the sensation of her warm skin brushing against the metal of the constructed palm and fingers.  He squeezed her hand, tentatively, making sure not to squeeze too hard and hurt her.  

The effort of focusing made his head ache and his wrist prickle.  He shook the sensations away.  Maybe AZI’s exercises would help sort that out.

”Where did you find it, Echo?” Hunter asked, drying off.  

“One of Phee’s contacts knew a seller,” said Echo. “Pulled a few strings.  AZI got things set up.”

“You sure were sneaky about it,” Wrecker said, finishing with his towel and laying it around his shoulders.

“There’s nothing wrong with privacy,” Crosshair said loftily.  Wrecker snorted.  Crosshair knew Wrecker had never understood the concept.

“Well, looks good, Crosshair,” said Wrecker, giving him a wide smile.  

Crosshair lifted his hand and raised his first two fingers to his temple, then shifted his hand out in a slightly sarcastic salute to his brother.  The hand obeyed his thoughts, and though there was a slight delay from when he planned the movement to when it happened, it was still working.  It scarcely felt real, yet it was.  Somehow, it was.

He grinned.  He couldn’t help it.

---

“So what am I supposed to be doing here?” Crosshair asked, looking down at the baskets of fresh produce Omega had set out.  They stood together in the kitchen while Echo, Wrecker and Hunter caught up in the living room.  Batcher sat patiently between Crosshair and Omega, watching hopefully in case any food was dropped.

“I’m trying soup tonight!” Omega said.  She stood up on the kitchen stepstool and propped up her datapad against the wall with Lyana’s recipe displayed.  “I had it over at Shep and Lyana’s.  It’s really good, but it has a lot of steps, and I thought maybe you could help me with the chopping.  You know, for practice!” she said.

He nodded.  “Right.”  He held out his cybernetic hand, curling the fingers into a fist and then releasing them, then hesitantly picking up the knife.

“You only have to chop these,” Omega said quickly. 

“And how big is chop again?”

“Chop is big.  Dice is small.  Mince is insanely small.  Just chopping.”  She estimated the size with her thumb and forefinger, holding them up to Crosshair.  

“I think I can do that.”  He set to work with a large deeproot, bracing it with his left hand, cutting slow careful rows into it with his new hand.  Each chop took him time to line up, followed by a moment to carefully sink the blade into the vegetable’s flesh.  He was going slowly to avoid cutting himself.  Omega watched him closely, even though she knew she had other parts of the meal to prepare for; it was just mesmerizing to see Crosshair focusing, to see him with both hands, to see him doing this with her.

There was a small ahem.  She looked up to see him giving her an amused look.  “I thought I was helping you with dinner, not doing it all myself.”

“I just got distracted,” Omega said, unable to keep from smiling.  She turned back to the water she was starting to boil for the noodles.  “It’s just… you look happier.  And you’re doing a really good job.  How does it feel?”

He considered.  “It’s not the same as before.  I have to think about how to use it.  The droid said that should improve.”

“I’m sure it will never feel exactly the same, but hopefully it starts to feel like second nature!  Like when you first started training with your rifle, or when I started with my bow,” Omega said, finishing washing the last of the produce.  “I hope this turns out all right.  I know Echo can be picky.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Crosshair said in a low voice, winking.  

Omega giggled.  “He can look so stern when he wants to.”

“Mm-hm.”  Slow, careful chop, chop, chop.    

“How much longer is he staying?” 

“I don’t know.  You’ll have to ask him,” said Crosshair.  “He said he might be able to fit in a supply run for the island tomorrow before he gets back to it.”  He finished with the deeproot and reached for a pile of mallow tubers.  Omega added the chopped deeproot to the soup base, which already smelled lovely from the spices she’d added. Once the vegetables had sauteed, she’d add the broth, and hopefully it would all work together.  

“It’s good he’s been out there fighting,” Omega said quietly.  She’d been thinking since last week, when she’d had that horrible nightmare about Hemlock and the bridge again.  Everything that man had touched needed to be stamped out, and if her brother Echo was the one who had to be out on the front lines, destroying any last traces of Hemlock’s work, she understood.  Thinking of it that way had helped soothe some of the sense of missing him, and she’d felt lighter all week.  “We’ll always have room for him here, but I know he’s not done yet.”

“No.  You can never keep a good ARC trooper down,” Crosshair agreed.  He added the chopped mallow tubers to the pot and Omega gave them a good stir.  They sizzled, commingling with the spices.  “What else do you have?”

“These are really good,” Omega said, passing him the sea onions.  “They don’t take as long to cook, so they go in after the roots.”  

“The cooking part is all you,” he said.  “I’d probably burn it all.”  He got to work on the sea onions, mouth thinning in concentration.  They had a different texture than the roots and Omega knew from experience they were a little trickier to chop.

“Thanks again,” Omega said.  

“For helping with dinner?  We all have chores.”

“Well, that too, but the other night,” Omega said shyly.  She cast a glance back at her brothers in the living room, still talking amongst themselves.  “I’ve been meditating again before going to sleep, and I haven’t had any more bad dreams.  I’m glad you didn’t listen when I told you to get out of my room.”

He glanced at her, his expression soft.  “Just wanted to help.”

“You did,” she said, reaching out and patting his arm.  Her nightmares of Tantiss, Hemlock, the bridge, they all felt so far away now with Crosshair here and safe beside her, the rest of her family in the next room, everyone safe and healthy.  She sighed contentedly, taking a big whiff of the vegetables, which were starting to smell delicious.  “It’s like… I still had this weight I was holding onto.  Like Tantiss was something that I couldn’t ever leave.  But now —“

Crosshair’s knife clattered to the counter.  She looked over hurriedly.  “Did you cut yourself?”

He looked pale, tense, every line of him rigid and angular as he stared down at his new hand.  He shook his head just slightly.  “No.”

”Are you okay?”

Batcher whined, nudging Crosshair’s leg.

He picked up the knife again in his right hand, taking a deep breath.  “Here’s the onions.” He scooped them towards her and she added them to the soup.  

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

He set down his knife and reached for a toothpick, coming up with it and setting it in his mouth with his new hand.  His eyes darted back and forth, but his face was impassive, back to a cool mask.  “The onions sting.”

She squinted, feeling their fumes rise up from the pot.  “Yeah, they do.”  She fiddled with the spoon, stirring clockwise, then counterclockwise.  “But anyway.  Thank you.  For helping me with dinner.  And the other night.  And… taking care of yourself.”  She nudged him with her shoulder.  

He looked faintly exasperated, but his eyes were fond.  “You don’t have to look after me.”

”Don’t have to, but I want to.”  

“Hm.”

She glanced up at him again, hoping to see him smiling.  But his face tensed again, the lines between his brows tighter than usual, and she turned back to the soup, disquieted.

---

Crosshair stood in the refresher, holding his right wrist and staring at his new hand.  He examined every facet of the hand, every joint, every hinge, every turn and twist.  Everything was perfect.  It was metal, cool where flesh was warm, different…  but perfect.

But he’d dropped the knife while chopping vegetables.  Had his hand shaken?  Or had it been a momentary lapse, a disconnect between the new technology and his body?  

AZI had said it could take time to get used to.  That’s all it was.  It had to be.

You should achieve dexterity equal to your natural hand….

He bit his lower lip, remembering just how useless his natural hand had become.

He stared at his hand, almost daring it to tremble, but it rested still and calm on the edge of the sink.  He shook his head.  

It’d be fine.  There was no alternative.  He was fine.

He left the ‘fresher, joining the others around the table.  Omega had finished making her soup and was just finishing setting out a bowl at his seat.  Batcher was curled under the table, ready for tidbits.

“What’s up, Crosshair?  Upset tummy?” Wrecker asked.  

“Sorry to disappoint,” Crosshair said in a withering tone.  He looked down at the soup, somewhat impressed to see his chopped vegetables didn’t look too uneven.  

“Well, let’s give this a try,” Omega said, plunging her spoon into her bowl.  She blew on her spoonful first to cool it, then hesitantly put it into her mouth.  Her eyebrows rose.  “Hey, it’s pretty good!”

Crosshair followed her lead, holding the spoon in his right hand.  The movements to get the spoon into the bowl were a little jerky, a little stiff, but he was able to take a spoonful of soup only slightly slower than the others.  It was good, a rich and filling broth with fish and vegetables.  He focused on taking another spoonful, and another, his hand obeying him slightly more smoothly with each attempt.  He’d eaten half the bowl this way before he looked up and saw the others deep in conversation.  He’d been focusing so sharply he’d completely blocked them out.

“Emerie sends her regards,” Echo said to Omega.  “She’s back at base, working on analyzing some of the data we lifted from the secondary lab on Arvela-4.”

Omega nodded.  “I’m proud of her.  I’m so glad she changed her mind, in the end.  I always hoped she would, but I couldn’t ever reach her all the way.”  She frowned, as if she wished things had been different, but the disappointment lasted only a moment.  “I just never thought it would be you who changed her mind!”

Echo chuckled.  “The way she tells it, it was a perfect storm.  You started her thinking about it.  Then the kids.  Then I showed up.”

“It must have been some lecture you hit her with,” Crosshair said slyly.  His own interactions with Emerie had been less brutal than those with Hemlock, of course, but they hadn’t exactly been warm and fuzzy, and the best he could muster up for her was neutrality.  He was glad she was being useful, though.

“Yeah, no one can stand up to Echo for long when he gives you that look,” Wrecker agreed, finishing off his soup and setting his bowl down.  “Going for seconds, anyone else want more?”  He got to his feet.

“I’m good,” said Hunter.  “But this was delicious, Omega.  We should keep this recipe around.  Maybe I could figure it out, too.”

“It really wasn’t that hard,” Omega said, beaming.  “And Crosshair helped.”

“Hardly.  It was all you.”  He took another spoonful of soup, which had started to cool off, but his hand continued to obey him.  Maybe it’s going to be fine.  “You’re getting good at this cooking thing.”

She gave him one of those dazzling smiles, and went back to eating her soup, her cheeks pink.

“You said Emerie’s working on data from Arvela-4.  Anything useful?” Hunter asked as Wrecker sat down with another bowl.

Echo raised his eyebrow.  “I thought you were staying out of things.” 

“I am.  We are,” Hunter protested.  “Doesn’t mean I can’t stay informed.”  He gave Echo a rueful smile.  “Besides, old habits die hard.”

“Fair enough,” said Echo.  “Emerie’s given us more information on some of the side projects Hemlock had cooking -- you should have seen what his plans were for the zillo beast!  Good job getting her out, Omega -- but there’s still layers of encryption on some of the other data we don’t have a hope of getting through.  Maybe Tech would have been able to make sense of some of it--”

Crosshair’s hand jerked, his spoon clattering violently in his bowl as his fingers trembled.

He stared down into the bowl, struggling to keep his breath calm, his eyes burning as his hand slowly quieted.  He could feel his siblings staring at him.  He let out a long breath through his nostrils, blinking rapidly.

“Crosshair?” Echo said quietly.

“It’s nothing,” Crosshair hissed.  “I’m just getting used to it.”  He dropped the spoon into his bowl, then quickly tried to hide his hand under the table, willing it to stop shaking. 

Stop it.  Stop it!

Batcher licked his hand under the table.  He recoiled.  He knew she was only trying to help.  But the touch was an electric frisson boiling up his arm and back to his brain.  He balled up his hand into a fist, pulling it away from the hound.

Hunter, sitting beside him, reached out to pat him on the shoulder, but Crosshair pulled back and dodged the attempt.  “It’s fine.  You don’t have to --”

“I said it’s nothing,” he snarled.  But under the table he could still feel it, shaking and twisting against his thigh.

His heart rattled in his chest, his breath coming too fast.  They were all staring at him, Omega’s face full of pity, Hunter and Wrecker concerned, Echo looking saddened -- 

“Stop staring at me.”  He practically spat the words out.  Nothing was wrong.  He’d imagined it, he’d just been clumsy, it wasn’t the tremor coming back, it couldn’t be --  He whipped his arm out from under the table and grabbed his spoon, determined to get back to eating, and his hand trembled so badly the spoon fell to the table, bounced, and rolled off onto the ground.

“Crosshair,” said Echo in a low voice.  He held out his hand.  “Take a moment.  It’s okay.”

“How is this okay?” Crosshair fired back, raising his voice.  He could feel it, he was losing control, but he couldn’t stop himself.  Couldn’t fight the anger, the disappointment, the shame --

Omega stared at him with huge eyes, and Wrecker put his arm around her, drawing her close.  “Hey, don’t worry about it.  We can help --”

“Remember, AZI said this might happen,” Echo said slowly.  “That it might function like your real hand.  But this is just the first day.  It can get better.”

“Does this look better to you?”  He slammed his fist down on the table, spilling the rest of his soup over the edge of the bowl, the silverware jumping.  His fist shivered.  He stared at Echo, panting.

“The droid said there’s exercises.  It’ll take time,” Echo said, keeping his voice as soothing as possible.  It grated in Crosshair’s ears, winding him up further.  “It took time for me, remember?  I had to adjust to going back into action, the Kaminoans had to do a lot of work, Tech helped me--”

Tech’s name shattered the last remnant of his composure.  A sick fury roiled up within him, blurring the edges of his awareness, tainting everything with a burning, agonized rage.  He leapt to his feet and Echo stood up with him, holding out his hands in a placating gesture.  It didn’t matter, too little, too late.  

He thrust out his hand where they could see it.  The metal hand’s fingers trembled faintly at first, then more aggressively into a twisting flutter, the fingers jerking spasmodically against the palm.

He’d never leave Tantiss, not really.

“Look at it!” Crosshair raged, waving his quaking hand in Echo’s face.  “It will never be better!  I’ll never be —”  He clawed at it with his left hand, gripping the metal hand as hard as he could and twisting until he felt a click.  He shuddered at the sensation of feeling his left hand twist his right hand off, the sudden return to feeling only his stump, prickling with its new attachment point.  The hand was a hunk of metal again, disconnected once more from his brain, and he shoved it into Echo’s chest hard enough for the other clone to stumble where he stood.

“Crosshair, stop it --”

“You shouldn’t have bothered,” he choked.  “It’s useless.  I’m --”

He had to get out of here.  He elbowed Echo out of the way as the others rose to their feet.  He rushed past them.  He couldn’t be around them like this.  He couldn’t be around himself like this.  He stumbled to the front door, smacking the wall panel with his left fist until the door opened, and bolting out into the open air.

He couldn’t breathe.  He took great gulping breaths, trying to bring in air, but it didn’t work, it didn’t work, every breath seared.  He looked wildly around the path on the side of the house, stormed around the corner to the patio and sank to his knees.  He cradled his right arm against his chest, gripping his wrist so hard his fingernails bit and tore into the skin.  The pinpoints of pain felt distant and muted.  They were happening to someone else.

He bowed over himself, gasping for air.

There was no point in trying.  There was no better he would get.  He was ruined.  Doomed to his right hand being gone or useless, doomed to always needing help, doomed to make things harder for everyone else, doomed to fall apart when the others were moving on.

He’d lost the only thing he was ever good at, and no matter what they did, that would always be true.  What good was he now?

Through the maelstrom, he sensed something.  Something familiar.  Eyes — eyes on me —

His head snapped up, and he looked around wildly.  Hunter stood beside the house several feet away, one hand resting on the wall.

“Get out of here.”

”Crosshair.  Please.  Let us help.”  Hunter looked infuriatingly calm.

”Let you help —“ Crosshair closed his eyes.  “There’s nothing you can do.”

”Sure there is,” Hunter said, edging closer to him, crouching down closer to Crosshair’s level.  “We can get AZI back to look at it.  Echo said there’s exercises.  There’s Omega’s meditation.  We weren’t born soldiers, we had to train, remember?  So train for this.”

He shook his head.  “Can’t do it.”

”You can.  I know you can,” Hunter said, shifting a little closer.    “And if it’s not perfect?  It’s okay.  We don’t have to have a hundred percent success rate anymore.”

He didn’t care that Hunter’s words made sense.  They made sense for the others, not for him.  ”It isn’t good enough!  I can’t keep being useless like this, Hunter!” he burst out.

Hunter sat down cautiously beside him, and Crosshair let him, too worn down to push him away.  He glared at him instead.

“You’re not useless, Crosshair.  Hand or no hand.  Believe me.”  Hunter sighed.   “You’re one of us, whether you like it or not.  And you don’t need a hand for that.”

Crosshair tried to catch his breath.  Tried to think things through.  But it was all a painful, disorienting blur.  At last he said, “I thought — if I could make this work, that it’d fix everything.  But it won’t work.”

”Why not?  Let’s just call AZI —” Hunter tried.

”The droid will say the problem’s organic.  My nerves.  My head.  I’m the fucking problem,” Crosshair growled.  

“Damn it.  You’re not a problem!” Hunter snapped, glaring back at him.  “Why can’t you understand that?”

“If you think that, you don’t understand me at all.”

“So help me understand,” Hunter said.  “We’re not soldiers anymore.  You can let it go.  All of it.”

“How can I let go -- when --”  He couldn’t even get the words out.  There was something clawing inside him, a wound he’d been burying under his missing hand, Tantiss, Mayday, Kamino, everything he’d done, something he couldn’t dare examine.  But a face in his mind’s eye blotted out everything.  “When I never got to —” He couldn’t say it. Couldn’t even think it.

He stared down at his stump.  Specks of blood dotted his arm where his fingernails had torn into the skin.  Before he could stop himself he whispered, “He could have fixed it.”

”Cross?” Hunter asked, his face softening.  

“Tech could have fixed it!” he shouted, and suddenly the weight of what he had just said crashed over him, sucking out the air in his lungs, crumbling the last of the walls he’d built up after Kaller, Kamino, Tantiss.  It was too much, too much, too much.

Tech was gone, and he wouldn’t fix anything ever again.

He froze, staring at Hunter, who looked stricken.  Hunter reached out cautiously.  He laid his hand on Crosshair’s arm.

It was such a small touch.  Just the simple weight of Hunter’s hand, warm and sturdy.  He’d carried burdens far heavier a thousand times.  He took a shaky breath.  He was fine —

The sobs exploded out of him with a violence that nearly made him sick.  His eyes screwed shut, tears forcing their way out to streak his face.  Crosshair sank against Hunter, sobbing in a way he’d never let himself before, shoulders heaving, silent in one breath, his voice a hoarse and wordless cry the next. He couldn’t stop it; it was a wave churning him under, drowning him in grief, a force far bigger than himself. All he could do was take breath after raw, ragged breath.  It poured out of him, Tech, Tantiss, Mayday, his hand, his mistakes, his failures, a corrosive guilt he’d been carrying for years now.

And Hunter put his arm around him, saying nothing, but saying everything.

He didn’t know how long he cried, or what made him stop.  The sobs slowed to slow, shuddering breaths, then faded into quiet, hitching exhales.  He felt as drained and boneless as he had after Kamino, after Barton IV, after CX training.  At last he managed to open his swollen eyelids, realizing that the sun had fallen and the sky was deep in blues and grays and blacks.  He let go of his right arm, noting how his fingernails had left bloodied half-moons in the skin of his wrist.  

He lifted his head and pulled away from Hunter, slowly, stiffly.  Hunter let him go, looking at him quietly, without judgment.

Hunter, who had stayed with him instead of leaving, stayed and held him through the storm.  

“I should’ve been there, Hunter,” he whispered.  Hunter let him speak, and he kept searching for the words, dropping his gaze so that he didn’t have to look his brother in the eye.  “If I’d gone with you on Kamino… he’d still be alive.”

“You can’t live on ifs, Crosshair,” said Hunter, his voice rough.  “You can’t die by them, either.”

“But Tech will never know,” he managed, his voice shaking, tears threatening again.  He scrubbed his face with the back of his hand, hiccuping.  “I’ve been trying to make up for it, but I -- I can’t.  No matter what I do… it won’t ever be enough.  He’ll still be gone.”

“I know,” said Hunter, and Crosshair managed to look at him, realizing that Hunter had tears in his eyes too.  “You think you’re the only one who blames himself?  Join the club.  But you can’t dwell on that.”

“But you were with him.  You never left him.  It’s not the same.”

Hunter met his eyes, then nodded.  “Maybe it’s not.  But he wouldn’t want you to blame yourself. He’d have been proud of you, you know.”

Crosshair let out a strangled noise halfway between a laugh and a sob.  “Tech? Proud of me?  He must have hated me for everything I did.  I turned my back on him.  On all of you!  And for what?”  He slumped.  “I deserve what I got.  That’s why the hand will never work for me.”

“Stop it,” Hunter growled, shaking him by the shoulder.  Crosshair froze again.  “Don’t you dare say he hated you.  Tech’s the one who found you were a prisoner.  He’s the one who got your message.  And instead of running from the Empire, he’s the one who pushed to save you because you were still our brother.  I’m ashamed to say he had to convince me.  I’d… given up.  But Tech didn’t.  He was better than that.”

Hunter’s words didn’t make sense.  Tech had to have hated him.  To have blamed him.  “You had the right idea,” he muttered.

“No,” Hunter said.  He let go of Crosshair and leaned back against the house, his shoulder brushing against Crosshair’s.  “I didn’t.  I missed you, for some reason --”  He cracked a loose, awkward smile, and Crosshair chuckled, ducking his head.  “But I just pretended nothing happened. Like you’d never been one of us.”

“Reasonable of you.”

 “No, it wasn’t. Tech still talked about you. He missed you,” said Hunter.

Crosshair squeezed his eyes shut, feeling fresh tears leak down his cheeks.  He let out a shivery breath.  “If he did, then that makes it worse.  That he… died… before I could -- before I could --”  His words failed again, and he shook his head.  Before I could apologize.

“I know,” Hunter said softly.  

Crosshair nodded, swallowing.  Somehow having Hunter acknowledge his darkest thoughts softened them.  “I wish I could tell him.”

“I think he knew,” Hunter said, gazing out at the darkened sea in the distance.  “But you can’t ask him, and maybe that’ll never go away.  Not really.  It’s unfair.  And it hurts, it fucking hurts.”

“It does,” he whispered.

There was a faint noise; the sound of the front door opening, footsteps.  Batcher rounded the corner of the house first, running to both of them, licking Crosshair’s face, then Hunter’s.  She parked herself at Crosshair’s feet, her bulk crushing his toes.  

“Go on,” he said with a faint smile, patting her.  He knew she was just trying to help, but he also knew his feet weren’t exactly a comfortable pillow.  She looked at him for reassurance, and when he nodded, she reluctantly got to her feet to go explore the patio, looking back at him after every sniff.  Eventually she settled into a scrape of sandy soil and made herself comfortable, but situated herself so she could still keep an eye on him.

“Batcher, come on, leave them alone,” Omega called, her voice strained.  She came around the corner, Wrecker and Echo behind her.  She looked at them hopefully.  Probably relieved he hadn’t socked Hunter in the face. “Crosshair… how are you feeling?”

“We can leave ya alone, if you want,” Wrecker said.

Crosshair sighed, leaning back against the wall of the house, staring up at the cloudy night sky.  “Stay, if you want.  It’s fine.  I’ve already made an ass of myself tonight.  Can’t get much worse.”

“No more of an ass than normal,” said Echo warmly.  Crosshair snickered through the clotted mucus and tears in the back of his throat.

The others joined them, sitting down on the patio, just quietly being with them.  Omega sat down on Crosshair’s other side, weaving her arm around his.  For a moment, nobody spoke.  Then Crosshair said haltingly, “Sorry.”

“You’d better be,” said Echo.  Crosshair opened one eye, looking at him skeptically.  “If you were trying to knock me down, that was pathetic.”  Crosshair chuckled again.  How Echo put up with him, he’d never know.

“Is there anything we can do, Crosshair?” Omega asked gently. She patted his knee with her free hand, and he smiled apologetically at her.  

“No idea,” he said honestly.  “Clearly, I’m not the best one to ask.”

Wrecker propped up his chin on his hands, wearing a sad smile.  “It ain’t just your hand, is it?  And it ain’t just tonight.”

”No.  It’s… everything.  My hand.  Tantiss.  My… mistakes.  And… Tech.”  He closed his eyes.  “Especially Tech.”  There was a faint, guilty sense of relief, finally saying it aloud.

“Oh, Crosshair,” said Omega, leaning against him.  He relaxed slightly, her small hands grounding him.  “Why didn’t you talk to us?  You know we all miss him too.  All the time.”

”How do you talk about him?  Without —“ He put his hand over his face, squeezing his eyes closed.  “How?”

”It gets easier,” Wrecker said.  “But it’s scary at first.  Not gonna pretend different.  But… sometimes it’s nice to talk about him.  He’s our brother, y’know?  Always will be.”

“Tech isn’t the first brother I’ve lost,” offered Echo. “Fives and I… we were as close as we could be.  He thought he saw me die, and he never knew I was still out there.  Rex told me how we lost him, and… it’s hard.  I won’t say it’s not.”

Wrecker reached out, patting Echo on the shoulder.

Echo smiled at him. “But I started to realize, their deaths aren’t who they are.  I won’t let that be what defines them.  Fives was one of the finest ARC troopers there ever was, and that’s how I’ll remember him.  Same goes for Tech.  Tech was a genius.  He was selfless. And he flew like a damn maniac.”  He grinned fondly.  “That’s how I think of the brothers I’ve lost.  Who they were, and what of them I carry with me.”

“I like that,” Omega said softly.  She thought for a moment.  “Once Tech told me that he processed the world differently, but that it didn’t mean he didn’t care. I used to think nothing ever bothered him, that he just didn’t care about things like I did.  But he cared about things like he did. And he cared about you, Crosshair.  He told me he respected that you’d chosen a different path.  I never thought about it like that.  But Tech was always thinking.  I loved that about him.”

Crosshair tried to picture Tech saying those things.  He couldn’t quite imagine it.  But there was something warm stirring within him at the idea, at Omega’s words.  He turned to her and nodded with a lump in his throat.

“Didja know he was a racer?” Wrecker asked.  “One of the best the Outer Rim’s ever seen?”

“What’s this?” Hunter asked, giving Wrecker a suspicious look.

Omega wore a secretive, gleeful smile.  “We might have kept it a secret because we knew you’d get mad.”

“What do you mean?” Hunter asked warningly.

“Cid needed backup and took us to a riot race,” Omega said, shrugging innocently.  “Her racer broke down and, well, Tech said he’d do it.”

“I thought humans didn’t riot race,” Crosshair said.

“He was crazy!” Wrecker roared, laughing full-throatedly.  “Humans don’t do it. But he jettisoned his weapons!  Took the abandoned racing tunnel!  Led the other drivers into a trap!  He was cutthroat.”

“And then when he won, the whole stadium went nuts!” Omega said.  She pulled her hands away from Crosshair, shaking her fists in the air.  “‘Tech, Tech, Tech…’”  She laughed, sinking back to her sitting position, shaking her head.  “We, um, all made a pact not to tell you and Echo.”

“It wasn’t exactly laying low,” Wrecker admitted, looking sheepish.

Hunter sighed.  “Probably for the best you didn’t tell me then.”  He cracked a grin.  “Only Tech would’ve been that crazy.”

“Tech wasn’t one for laying low in general,” Echo mused.  “You know he fought on a broken leg on Serenno?”

“That sounds like him,” Crosshair conceded.  He hadn’t been the only one of the group with a habit of telling them he was fine when he absolutely wasn’t.

“By the time we got to him for a pickup, he’d passed out, but not before taking out multiple stormtroopers. That was a nasty break.  I was mad at you for not keeping him off it,” he said, shaking his head at Echo.  “I knew Tech wouldn’t have any sense when it came to taking it easy, but I thought you at least would be responsible.”

“Tech was a force unto himself, and you know it,” Echo said defensively.  Hunter smirked.

Crosshair looked back and forth between them.  Something in his chest was loosening, breaking up, easing the awful ache he’d been carrying.  He took a deep breath, and his lungs seemed to fully expand for the first time in months, maybe years.

“Did I ever tell you about the time we accidentally got obliterated?” Crosshair asked.

The others stared at him in surprise, then leaned in to hear his tale.  He turned to Omega.  “Don’t get any ideas.  Like I said, this was accidental.”  He smiled slightly.  “Remember that mission on Hassaria?”

“I remember you and Tech got separated from us,” Wrecker said.  “Had to pick you up the next day, and you both looked like crap.  Sweaty… puking your guts out… Tech said you guys got poisoned by some local bug or something --”

“Actually, a local Republic sympathizer took us in after we wiped out the clankers,” Crosshair said.  “They offered us dinner and something to drink, and we didn’t realize that whatever it was, it was strong. Not until it was too late.”

He lowered his head, trying not to laugh.  “The Hassarian started trying to teach us a local fighting song.  We, uh, might have joined in.” Joined in was an understated way to describe Tech bellowing the words out in a fine tenor, Crosshair singing the women’s parts in a wailing falsetto, and the Hassarian declaring them their new best friends forever.  “We might’ve also started singing every dirty song Wrecker ever taught us.”  He reached down, taking a toothpick from his belt.  “Not that you heard it from me.”

Omega stared at him, open-mouthed, eyes wide.  “Crosshair!”

Hunter laughed, shaking his head.  “Actually, when we rendezvoused with you I could smell the alcohol from twenty paces.  But I thought it was funnier if I didn’t let on and made you nurse your hangovers in secret, so…”

“You knew?” Wrecker yelped.  “Oh come on, I woulda loved to make fun of ‘em!”

Omega giggled, nudging Crosshair in the side.  “I’ve never heard any of you sing.  Maybe we should start a band.  Lyana’s been getting me into Trandoshan funk, maybe that’s your true calling…”

Hunter held out a hand.  “We might want to take this indoors,” he said, glancing up at the sky.  “Just a hunch, but --”

A bolt of lightning flashed distant across the horizon, followed by a clap of thunder and the first few drops of rain.  Batcher let out a howl from where she’d been dozing in the sand, and scampered to the door.  Hunter got to his feet, offering Crosshair a hand up.  Crosshair clasped it with his left hand, allowing his brother to lift him to his feet.

For a moment, they looked at each other.

Crosshair saw Hunter.  Really saw him: the weight of all that had happened since Kaller was etched in the lines on his face, the bags beneath his eyes.  The years had been hard on him, too.  He knew his brother could have turned away from him, and had, many times.  

But he was here now, his strong hand gripping Crosshair’s, his support real and true.  He was loyal.  And that meant everything.

Crosshair nodded at him, and Hunter nodded back, and they went inside with the others to get out of the evening rain.

[utopiastri]

Fic Writer Interview!!!

tagged by @1425fivefive (forever ago, whoops!) and @miamimaiden

(this was such a funny ask game bc i did mostly end up discussing my F1 fics but I also have a Number of musicals fics on my ao3 so those do also crop up in my answers lmao)

How many works do you have on AO3?

10 in total!!! 4 F1 fics so far though

What's your total AO3 word count?

62,635 apparently (mostly being driven by one of those aforementioned musicals fics lmao)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

who actually texts people this much (3,076) (again. the musicals fic)

you must like me for me (646)

tell me 'bout the first time you saw me (508)

you're always on my team (464)

and i'll learn how to fly (253)

ok other than the obvious outlier at the top, i'm thrilled that my four F1 fics are the ones that have made it into the top 5 because they are undeniably the ones i'm proudest of right now

insane to me how many people have liked you're always on my team!!! i was a little nervous about posting my first chaptered fic in a while and i'm so happy it got such a lovely reception

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yes!!! oh my god i love responding to comments as much as i love leaving comments myself!!!

the only thing with this is that i do find myself forgetting to actually put time aside in my day to do it!!! so sometimes, about two weeks after i read a comment and internally squealed about it, i'll go "oh FUCK i didn't reply that comment" and sprint to my laptop

so, uh, if you've ever received a late comment reply from me? now you know why lmao

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

oh god um. none of them? i guess the one abandoned fic on my ao3 account (a she-ra fic from 2018 lmao) has the angstiest ending by virtue of the fic not being finished and no resolution being reached lmao

but genuinely i don't think i could ever write a fic with an angsty ending!!! i think at best i could plot an angty ending??? or maybe write a drabble or something??? but honestly, i really struggle reading angsty endings so it would be a rogue move to write one lmao

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

ooooooo excellent question

honestly any of my finished F1 fics probably work but i think i'll go with you must like me for me! truly one of my favourite brands of happy ending is a reciprocated love confession and (not to spoil the fic lmao) that might be one of my favourite ones i've ever done!

Do you write crossovers?

nope!!!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

oooo once upon a time i received a comment on that musicals fic, who actually texts people this much, that was fairly harsh on the writing??? the worst part was enough time had passed since i'd written the fic and i'd honestly reached the part of the writing cycle where i hated everything about it so i almost agreed with the commenter lmao

even today, i think the critique was accurate! but perhaps not a polite/kind thing to comment on someone's fic lmao

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i'm trying to!!! i haven't posted any yet

i am terrible at describing things (including like. physical movement) so, so far, any smut i've attempted to write has been fairly dialogue-heavy!!! but honestly that's generally my taste in smut so i think this tracks

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

that musicals texting fic has been translated somewhere on the internet! one of my friends in uni dug it up lmao

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

never co-written before! i am a huge fan of brainstorming fics with my friends though! either their fics or mine - i just love the collaboration of it all!!!

What's your all-time favorite ship?

god this is difficult!!! my taste in ships moves around all the time to be honest

ok for F1, it's fairly easy - landoscar do unfortunately possess my entire heart and there is very little i can do about that lmao

other than that? i do have to mention how much i still adore the les mis pairing enjolras/grantaire because i did spend a good portion of my teenage years thinking about them and only them lmao

and i spent many a year in steve/bucky from the mcu hell so i guess it's important that that goes on here too!

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

so many!!! in particular though, i would love to one day finish the first ever landoscar fic i ever worked on (the idea was that oscar and lando are friends with benefits but, through miscommunication shenanigans, have somehow never kissed lmao)

i think i'd just really enjoy the full circle moment of getting to finish that first wip!

What are your writing strengths?

dialogue!!! dialogue my beloved! my favourite thing i have ever written is the unreciprocated love confession scene in you must like me for me - writing a dramatic not-argument/discussion was just so tailored to my strengths of writing dialogue and not much else lmao

there's a reason i'm having so much fun with you're always on my team! and it's because what is a texting fic if not a fic made only of dialogue!!!

What are your writing weaknesses?

description!!!!!! tell me 'bout the first time you saw me was a delight to write but truly i don't know if i could do a first meeting fic again because trying to work out how a stranger would describe oscar piastri was a NIGHTMARE

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

as someone who can only speak english, i simply don't have a good enough understanding of any other language to do it without defaulting to like. terrible google translate

i think it can be fun to read though!!! it depends what effect the author is going for tbh

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

...glee (i wasn't even that into glee!!! my two best friends at the time were though so i wrote a couple things i thought they'd enjoy lmao)

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

galex!!! i don't know if i could do it but i really really want to one day - if only because my girlfriend's sister adores them and i think it would be fun to write something for her!

although i have also been pondering gax a lot with @jusst-you-race!!! so maybe i should throw gax in here too

What's your favorite fic you've written?

you must like me for me undoubtedly. it's the most complete fic i think i've ever written in that there's a clear plot with a clear resolution and, as i said earlier, that unreciprocated love confession/first kiss scene is genuinely my favourite thing i have written of anything ever!!!

it was also the first fic i'd posted in nearly 6 years!!! and i'm so glad i felt happy enough with it to share it because i've just had the most wonderful time in this fandom since doing so!!!

i cannot for the life of me remember who has done this so no pressure tagging @ipleadbritney and @jusst-you-race and anyone else who wants to do this!!!

[probssomethingorother]

🚨 NEW CHAPTER! 🚨

I said I was going to turn this out and I did! Whoop whoop. Unfortunately, I have done barely any review on it so good luck folks. Will go back and make fixes soon. Feel free to call out anything glaring/jarring. @eedsknees gave me the idea to include (SPOILER) some nightmare content, so they are lowkey responsible for jump starting the writing process on this one.

Back & Forth: a the last of us fic

post-episode 8 Silver Lake hurt/comfort

Ellie & Joel, both riding the struggle bus, canon compliant

Rating: Mature for dark themes, nothing more than the show

It was Joel who stumbled first. He had felt the strength seeping out of him with every step so viscerally it was like his body was a container with a slow leak. His gate would falter and his hand would slip further down her shoulder, power waning. He would cough in his throat and blink forcefully trying to reignite the spark of energy that had carried him to Ellie just hours ago, but it was all a losing battle. And eventually, he lost it. It was Ellie who moved first after that.

chp 1 | chp 2 | chp 3 | chp 4 | chp 5 | chp 6 | chp 7 | chp 8 / chp 8 |

chp 9 !!! YAY !!

read on Ao3 with the link above or below the cut, and remember comment where you can! <3

Chapter 9: (warning not proof read, will do that in the AM)

A lifetime ago, he was warned that raising a teenager - a teen girl at that - was going to be one of the hardest things he was going to live through. Joel had just started into the moody teenage years with Sarah before he lost her, they had their small arguments here and there, but really hadn’t quite hit that point where she was talking back, slamming doors, walking away, or giving him the silent treatment. Still, he had done all the mental preparation for the day his teenage girl would suddenly start putting him to the test, but he never thought in a million years that the teenage girl doing it was not going to be his Sarah. No, it was Ellie. 

Ellie, who had gone from pouting in silence on the couch to fitfully falling back asleep. From his spot a few feet away, Joel had first thought she was muttering under her breath, talking through something and trying to vent her frustrations, but then he noticed the way her body rose and sank rhythmically.  Still turned away from him, he couldn’t see her face to confirm, but after countless nights of looking over her while he took watch, he knew her breathing patterns like a parent knowing their child’s distinct cries. 

She was asleep, and deeply; unfortunately, it just wasn’t peacefully. 

For a long few minutes, Joel waited in the wingback chair, knee bouncing as he debated how long to let the restlessness go on before intervening. Hunched over with his arms on his knees, he wrung out his hands as he watched each one of her breaths and acutely listened in for what was slipping from her mouth, even turning his head so his good ear pointed more in her direction. 

Over the months together he had seen her have a few occasionally, but he had never woken her, and eventually, she did always settle. But now, this just felt different. She had been struggling in her waking hours, it seemed cruel to also let her suffer in her sleep.

“I’m not…don’t,” she softly muttered. The words were more distinct than much of the rest that had been coming from her, and the sense of desperation behind them was painfully evident.

Sighing, Joel stood up with a groan and silently moved closer to her. The blankets were still tightly wrapped around her, constricting her movements to small twitches of her body, clearly unable to manage anything more against the weighty fabric. Her hair splayed across the cushion and fell down her back, which just made Joel realize it now was fully out of its normal ponytail, elastic lost somewhere - maybe forever. In the soft light of the fire, her hair looked almost golden. However, it also meant its tangles and mats were highlighted, strands clumped and bunched in weird spots. 

“No….stop…no,” Ellie cried out again, still a soft and breathy slew of words, her body twitching again before settling. 

For a moment, it actually looked like she might be calming for good, heavy breaths petering out for a second; so Joel hesitated before making any further moves, hand lingering just above her shoulder. From above, he could now see more of her face. It was contorted with a tightness, brows pushed together and jaw clenched. It looked like she was trying to turn it more into the cushion, hide it away from something, but she could only push in so much into the fabric without smothering herself - even her unconscious body seemed to know that. 

Wherever she was, or whatever she was seeing, in her head, couldn’t be anything good. 

Suddenly, Ellie’s breathing hitched, a whimper escaping her lips, her eyes fluttering beneath her lids as she relived whatever terror she was experiencing. “Please…,” she whispered. 

The sounds tore at Joel's heart. 

Enough was enough. 

Taking a deep breath, he gently placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to shake her awake, “Hey…hey, Ellie. Wake up,” he murmured, voice thick with concern.

But his soft murmurs only seemed to increase her unease. Her breathing grew more rapid, each exhale punctuated by a soft whimper of distress. 

"Ellie.." Joel tried again, placing more pressure on her shoulder to tip her onto her back. Her body complied, and she was now supine, but that also only seemed to make things worse for her.  The whimpers started to get caught in her throat, her face screwing up like she was about to cry. 

"Kiddo, time to wake up," Joel said, a little more sternly as he brought a gentle hand to the top of her head in a small gesture of comfort. It was an old instinct, something he used to do for Sarah when she was too afraid to sleep- gently caressing the top of her head, brushing back her beautiful curls to lull her down. (He later learned she should be in a bonnet when she slept, hair tucked away, but oh well). 

He brushed back some of Ellie’s hair too, trying not to get distracted by how utterly dirty it was,  bits sticking together by something, making it feel almost crunchy. 

“Ple….don’t….that’s…you’re hurting mmm….” 

She sounded like she was talking to someone now, and just being in proximity to it made Joel riddled with guilt as if he was the one it was directed at. With another soft sigh, Joel’s hand trailed down her head, past her shoulder, and onto her arm, giving it a squeeze. The move was a bad choice. 

Ellie's body immediately jerked away from him, eyes shooting open in terror, as her arm flung out in a wild, blind attempt to get the touch off her. 

Her hand connected solidly with the most vulnerable part of Joel- her loose fist hitting his barely stitched-together stab wound, dead center.

Ellie’s hand was tiny, but even so, it fucking hurt so bad. Time seemed to freeze, the sheer intensity of the pain anchoring Joel in agonizing stillness before the sensation hit him in full, like a tidal wave. He saw stars, the bright flecks dancing in front of his eyes as every nerve in his body screamed in agony. It felt like a thousand needles were being driven into his side, radiating outwards in a hot, searing wave of pinpricks that washed through his body from head to toe. 

He stumbled back with an unstable step, knocking into the edge of the coffee table before trying to catch himself, only for his legs to do the opposite and give out beneath him. He crumpled to the floor with a deep pained groan, voice ragged and raw, landing with a thump. 

For a very long moment, the world seemed distant, muffled, as if he was underwater as he sat still on the floor, hands not even able to clutch at the spot, just ghosting above it. For that same very long moment, Ellie’s eyes stayed fixed wide, now with a different form of terror as she came to terms with what she had just done. Both rattled by the sudden change of events, everything became eerily still between them as the room turned scarily quiet.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, played on repeat in Ellie’s head, until finally she was was scrambling to sit up, blankets tangling around her, restricting her movements. With a frustrated groan, she yanked and kicked them away, tossing them angrily aside as she popped off the couch, desperate to check on Joel. 

She almost tripped and fell down too, feet getting caught up in the pile of discarded fabric on the floor. The stumble became a somewhat coordinated descent, and she dropped to her knees at his side. 

”Oh God, Fuck, fuck, Joel?,” Ellie stammered, her voice laden with guilt. She knelt anxiously beside him, hands hovering, unsure of where to touch, or how to help. His eyes were squinted, brow furrowed, beads of sweat already forming on his forehead. He looked as he did when she first put him on that dingy mattress in the basement, just constipated with pain. It made her want to vomit knowing she was now the one to cause it this time. 

Still filled with lingering anxiety from her nightmares, Ellie’s body was cracking under all the emotion, tears pricking at her waterline. She fluttered her eyes quickly, trying to get it to stop, but the longer she stared down at Joel the more she felt the tears threaten to spill over. 

“Joel? Dude..what- tell me what I can do,” she stumbled out desperately. 

Joel could barely register her voice much less what she was saying. A ringing in his ears was now taking over making everything just seem a bit staticky. His eyes wandered around the ceiling for a second before screwing shut, trying to stave off an incoming wave of dizziness. 

He couldn’t understand why it hurt so bad, why a hit less than a punch had literally knocked him on his ass. 

God fuck if she was able to do this, how was he going to defend them against anything if something did happen?

He groaned then, but from the thought of his inability not the pain. The pain was on a level that far surpassed groans. 

“Okay..okay just,” Ellie began, taking his shaky hovering hands and moving them away, “let me look. I’m sorry.. sorry.. sorry,” she finished, biting at her lip as she slowly tried to raise his shirt to see the damage she had caused. 

But Joel wasn’t going to let her feel bad for this. Certainly wasn’t going to allow her to make it her responsibility to fix him again. Absolutely not.  

Despite the waves of pain that threatened to overwhelm him, Joel managed to open his eyes. Through the haze, he saw Ellie's panicked face, her deep brown eyes wide with fear. 

She had barely gotten his shirt up, it sticking to him with dried blood. "S'okay," he rasped, bringing a hand up to push down the fabric and stop her before she could get much further. "Don’t," slipped out, although he had been going for “don’t worry.” 

Ellie stopped moving, but didn’t release the grip on his shirt, worried now that anything she would do would just make it worse. “I- okay - just what - how? What do you need?” 

Realizing his poor attempt at speaking before had only made her more anxious, Joel didn’t rush into replying this time. He took a long breath in and out, controlled through his mouth. It made his stomach produce a deep pain when his diaphragm filled and released the air, chest cavity rising and deflating. He pushed his head further back into the cold ground, trying to focus on a different sort of feeling than something beside his side.

“Just gimme…a second.” He pushed out, words complete and mostly steady this time. 

Ellie bit her lip, regret evident in her eyes. Releasing his shirt, and with a deep exhale she sat back on her heels, giving Joel space but still close enough to assist him if he needed. 

She couldn’t believe she had fucking hurt him. He was still fucking fragile and she really could have done some damage - she knew it. It wasn’t like she had given him world-class first aid in the first place. 

“Did I get your stitches?” She asked with apprehension. They were probably so fucked.

“Ellie.” Her name reverberated through the sparsely furnished room, the sound trailing out shakily from a  Joel. He might as well have just said, “shut up,” because somehow that’s what it sounded like to Ellie’s ears.  

Silence started and dragged on then for several moments as they both waited for Joel’s pain began to recede, neither moving much at all. Every so often there was a small sniffle as Ellie tried to bite back tears. 

Joel's voice, rough and filled with exhaustion, broke the monotony. 

“Already feeling better,” he offered, after the third sniffle. Ellie had been trying to hide being on the brink of crying, but there wasn’t much space between them for things to be going unheard. 

With a roll of her eyes and a huff, she wiped at them with the back of her hands.

“I don’t even know why I’m crying…I’m not a fricken crybaby,” she mumbled, clearly frustrated with herself. Joel hummed in agreement as he began to reposition himself, more focused on not causing himself any more pain than producing a reply to her. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? Cause you don’t look okay…” Ellie pushed anxiously, trying to get the focus back on him. 

“I’m fine. Just caught me off guard is all.”

They both knew that was a bit of an oversimplification and by the look on Ellie’s face, she wasn’t too happy with his attempt to brush this under the carpet.

"It wasn't your fault," Joel murmured, pushing himself to a sitting position with a wince. Every movement he made seemed to be a battle, a very annoying struggle against the pain that radiated from his side. "You were just reacting... to something else…. probably my fault anyhow.” 

Joel's eyes inadvertently flicked down to Ellie's bare thighs, the blue-black hues of bruises evident even in the dim light, as she knelt next to him. He had noticed them earlier, but the immediate crisis then had pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. Now, they came flooding back, mind zoning out as his gaze lingered on the red flags that marred her body.

She had been reacting to something else. 

“I said don’t touch me motherfucker!”

Broken pants. 

“Don’t do it, please don’t do it.”

Scratches on her waistline. 

“you’re hurting-”

Begging, even in her sleep.

“Please don’t.”

"Quit staring," Ellie muttered with a hint of bitterness. Drawn from spiraling thoughts, Joel’s eye flicked back up to hers, filled with a genuine concern, and a bit of remorse. 

"I wasn’t—“ 

“You were," she cut him off, her voice filled turning to something else, a mix of exhaustion and defiance as she pulled down her sweatshirt the best she could to cover her thighs. It barely did a thing.  

”Let me see your side," she said, moving toward his shirt once more. He held out a hand, stopping her.

He wasn’t going to let her keep avoiding this. 

“Tit for tat - you wanna check on me, I wanna check on you,” Joel rasped, his voice carrying an edge of firmness, making it clear that this was really non-negotiable even if presenting it as such. 

Ellie’s jaw clenched. “I’m fine,” she said sternly. 

“You ain’t,” he countered, eyes again flicking down to her legs, purposefully this time, brows raised before he came back to meet her eyes. They were as terse as he’d ever seen. 

They darted away from his view as she muttered, "It's nothing,” her voice low, but Joel caught the slight tremor in it. 

“It ain’t 'nothing'," he pressed firmly. 

With an irritated exhale, Ellie rose as her eyes rolled. She stared down at him for a long moment before shooting her hand out for him to grab. 

Joel looked at it, and then at her, and then back to it. He hadn’t really anticipated getting up this soon, but he wasn’t going to deny the hand she was extending, metaphorical or physical. He hoped that despite the anger her face showed, the gesture was as much about reconciliation as it was assistance. 

Of course, he wouldn’t be so lucky. 

With more force than he thought she capable, Ellie helped him move to stand, pulling him vertically and giving him a tight grip to sink into it. She didn’t say a word about the heavy groan that ripped through his body during it all or the way his strong grasp made the cut on the side of her hand burn. She turned away her head from his as he made his way up, not wanting to meet his gaze, and not wanting him to see the way she was making her own body ache with the effort of supporting him. Head drooping toward the floor, she stayed by his side for a moment as he panted through the residual pain, bent at the waist just slightly his free hand on his hip. When he seemed steady enough, Ellie slipped her hand from his, giving it a little shake to rid the irritation in her fingers from his clenched hold. 

Marching back to the couch, she aggressively snatched the blankets off the ground and plopped herself onto the worn cushions with a glare and a huff, deliberately positioning the university quilts over her legs to hide it all away.  

“Fuck you,” she spat stoically as her body hunched down, arms crossing over her chest. 

It had flipped so easily inside her, the switch back to anger and frustration, that it was almost catching her own self off guard. Her stomach felt like it was hanging low, her muscles were all tense, her throat was aching to scream, and her body desperately just felt like picking up the closest thing and heaving it across the room. 

She bit the impulse back, stifled down the brewing aggression and frustration - but just barely. 

The last time she let herself get swept up in the same feelings a man’s head became sludge on the carpet. Ellie knew she wouldn’t do that to Joel - ever - but she also didn’t want to go anywhere near the emotions that she knew could fuel that sort of thing.

But, that was much harder said than done. And right now, her mind and heart were at odds, unsure of which was actually in control, but either way, one was telling her to make Joel hurt. To make him sad and angry. To make him feel the way she was suddenly starting to again. 

“You took off my pants.” 

The regret was immediate as she spat the words out with venom, but there was also a sweet satisfaction that came afterward, when the words hung heavy in the air, when the look on his face told her she had it - that soft spot inside of him, that protector persona - easily crushed. 

“Ellie..” 

She shouldn’t be doing this, not to him, none of this was his fault, but for some reason, she couldn’t make herself stop. 

“You wouldn’t’ve even known… I never said you could do that, ” she muttered, eyes narrowing.

The color drained from Joel’s face, and for a moment he looked as if he was about to topple over again.  He sucked in a long breath, a deep feeling of culpability settling in his heart. It was almost more painful than Ellie’s hand connecting with his wound just moments before - actually, he might prefer round two of that now, then this, or whatever this was shaping up to be. 

He knew what he did, knew it had been necessary, but it made him feel dirty all the same. She didn’t have to do much to bring out the guilt when he already felt ashamed. 

Slowly, Joel turned and eased himself into the wingback, taking up refuge in the same spot he had watched her battle through the nightmare earlier - a nightmare he was suddenly worried was somehow about him. 

Head low, forearms resting on his thighs, palms, and hands anxiously rubbing together, he ground his teeth back and forth, her screams echoing in his ears once again. 

A blip of his large hands encircling her tiny bruised wrists as he moved them away, came to mind, coming back to haunt him like he knew it would when had done it. He hummed at the thought, wondering for a second if perhaps he had done something wrong. 

Rushed through it, overstepped, and caused more harm than good. 

But then thought of how she was fading in and out, how she shaking - so badly - how her skin was like ice - might as well have been a dead body, cold like a corpse. 

Joel nodded his head up and down, convincing himself of what he already knew.

There were lots to feel guilty over, but this couldn’t be one of them. 

Anxiously, he raised his head and met hers, trying to read her face and not her words. Ellie’s expression was one filled with contempt, but her eyes held a completely different story - a kid broken and scared. 

She was hurting, and if the look in her eyes wasn’t enough, the bruises on her face and the blood splatter still staining her complexion were more than enough of a pointed reminder that Joel needed to tread lightly even if she was marching full steam ahead, raging at the world - at him.

She was doing this on purpose, pushing him, but he wouldn’t push her - couldn’t. 

He thought back to before, when he came rushing back into the living room fearing she had slipped away in the few moments he had taken to get the blankets. He remembered the small smile on her face when he made his way into her sights, and how she cracked open his heart with her candid confession:

“I’m always gonna come back.” 

“I like when you do.” 

Centering himself on that memory, and not her screams, Joel ran a hand down the length of his face before brushing it back and forth against the scruff of his beard. He let out a long sigh, a little worried he was about to say the wrong thing. 

 "I had to..." he began, his voice coming out more as a gravelly murmur than anything else. He stopped, swallowed hard, and tried again. "You were freezin’..." he said remorsefully, but pointedly, a statement of fact and an apology, side by side. 

Ellie nodded with a blank expression, purposefully trying to keep her face deadpan. She didn’t remember all that much, but she wasn’t stupid - logically, she knew that’s what happened. 

That hadn’t been the point of bringing it up. 

“You couldn’t do it yourself, so I had’ta.”

“I told you to stop,” she countered.

Truthfully, she still didn’t remember much of the whole ordeal, but bits were coming back slowly. There were some moments, vague, but there, she could use against him if she wanted - paint a certain image, true or not. All she could see was her arms and hands pushing against his, small fists banging against his forearms, yelling at him. 

Her gaze found the fire for a moment, landing on the red and orange licks of flames, just past his shoulder. 

Hands pushing against his, small fists banging against his forearms, red carpet, flames.  

“…I was yelling and you kept going…” she said, almost absently, head somewhere else for a twinkle of a second. 

She gulped down a growing lump in her throat as her eyes quickly flicked back to Joel, and with a few blinks cleared the images of him away. 

Joel opened his mouth to reply but shut it quickly, giving her a nod instead. She wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t right either. 

In the very back of Ellie’s head, a small voice was screaming at her to not be an idiot. To stop whatever this was, now, before she took it too far. That he wasn’t him. That this is leftover aggression stuck inside, threatening to ruin something good. 

But she couldn’t. 

Her jaw clenched tighter as her eyes went hard and steely. Her head was really starting to throb again, and the hot feeling that had been in her gut was now starting to travel up her body, making her throat tight as it also ushered in a bit of nausea. 

She was seething so much that she was making herself sick from the intensity of it all. And for what?

She wiggled in her seat, hands going to grip the sides of the couch, knuckles going white, as she lowered her head to stare at the floor, wondering why he wasn’t getting mad like she thought he would.

“I know, you were..” Joel confirmed, hoping that not denying, or trying to belittle it would somehow make this better for her. 

He was able to see her demeanor going colder and colder with every moment she sat on the couch, coming to slow a boil like a pot on a stove.  Part of him did want to defend himself and go toe to toe with her - it was only natural - but a bigger part of him just wanted to gather her up in another hug and just never let go. Make her emotions quell, stop the roiling. 

"I know what your doin'..." he said, shaking his head, "I know you don't mean what you're sayin’."

"I - ah ..," Ellie stuttered, not expecting to be called out. ”Asshole," she said, trying to recover, albeit not strongly, before tumbling along, words spilling from her mouth.  “You’re an asshole, and you - if you gave a shit about me then, you wouldn’t have -“

“- Hey now…“ Joel interjected quickly, a grovel in his voice clearly revealing that his calm exterior was cracking away, her words now hitting him with a certain potency.  Ellie’s voice trailed off at the sound of his, focus going to watching the change in his body language, his shoulders tensing, eyes moving away, hand rubbing at his thigh. 

Of course, he gave a shit about her. After everything? 

She really wasn’t making this easy, and now the underlying guilt that still coursed in his veins - that was practically a part of him now - even though he knew it was misplaced - was turning to frustration, and frustration into precarious anger. 

And Ellie knew it too, and now she couldn’t hold back. She wanted to pry that spark of anger from behind his eyes and ignite it. Light it on fire like that fucking restaurant. 

“Would you have done that to Sa-“

“Enough.” Joel spat, jaw tight, eyes hard. 

Sarah. 

It was a low blow, even for Ellie.  

His heart was thumping in his chest, whooshing in his ears. He knew where the sentence was going the minute, it was coming out of her, and he couldn’t let it stand. He had sidestepped what she had been insulting the entire time - the dark impropriety of it all - because it was just so far from the truth that it wasn’t even worth playing into. But now, bring up something like that, almost accusing him, with his daughter…no. It crossed a line. 

With a deep inhale, Joel pushed himself off the chair the pain of it all buried monetarily under his own indignation, only a small wince escaping. The old wood creaked under him, the sound echoing the tension in the room. With a slow-paced stride, his leather boots thudded against the floor, the rhythmic sound resonating through the still air, each deliberate step echoing ominously. His fists were balled tightly as he sad and his face stern. 

Ellie watched as he got closer, content that she had finally pushed him over the edge. 

She hated herself, but not just for this. 

Coming to a still directly in front of her, he lowly began, “You don’t-,” he dragged in a long breath, “you don’t bring her anywhere in this….that ain’t right, and you know it.” 

His intention wasn’t to be intimidating - just firm, but standing above her as he was, was a little bit menacing.  Ellie gave him a slow nod, eyes looking forward, not up towards him. Her quickening pulse was echoing in her ears, mouth getting a little watery with apprehension.

Joel looked anywhere but down towards her, not wanting to show her any more anger than he already had let slip out. His fingers ran against his palms, still tightly screwed together, as his eyes wandered around the area behind the couch, scanning the kitchen, hoping to use it mundanity as a means to steady himself. 

Exhaling through his nose, Joel took a long step back, and then another away, turning his back toward Ellie. 

God, bringing his Sarah up like that, now. What was she thinkin’?

Drawing his head up to the ceiling, he called back to that feeling in his gut when he woke up alone in the basement. That feeling in his chest, when he thought he was about to find her body a the end of a trail of blood. That feeling in his heart, when she fell into his arm, scared as all hell. 

He shook his head. Ellie was his too. 

An oppressive silence stretched between them, the weight of unsaid words becoming almost palpable as Joel swayed back and forth on the balls of his feet, debating what to say, how to carry on. It was clear she was just lashing out, generally, but he couldn't let it all slide. Not that easily.

"Trauma ain't a hall pass" - Tommy told him that once. 

Sucking in a final long breath, hands going to his hips, Joel turned to face Ellie. 

“I know I wasn’t there. But I got to eyes. And I know somethin’ happened to you. And if this is  - was? - you tryin’ to make sense about that then, fine. Spit whatever you want at me, okay? Hit me, yell at me, I don’t care…I’ll take it.. I deserve that…cause that’s on me for leaving you alone.”  His voice was eerily steady, low, and coarse like how Ellie knew it when he was barking orders at her, way back at the beginning of their journey together. The tenderness that he had exhibited since coming back together seemed to be gone, even though his words painted a different picture. For better of worse, this was the Joel she knew. 

“But listen to me. I’m serious Ellie - Listen here.” Joel waited for Ellie to look up and meet his eyes. When she did so, he continued.  “Sarah stays far out of it.” 

Ellie didn’t make a move, a little stunned by the way he seemed to have his emotions under control, especially after she had expected so much more.  

He was going to end it at that, but a nagging voice in the back of his head told him he might as well dot all his ‘I’s and cross his ’T’s too. 

“And to be clear, I didn’t do anythin’, would never, do anythin’ to you- like what you were getting at.. makes me sick just thinking about it,” his tone was serious, yet his words danced around the hard topic like he wasn’t confident using the real words for it. His mouth turned down as the thought of it stayed in his brain, festering for a moment before fading out. 

The look in his eyes had Ellie swallowing back some guilt, tears even beginning to prick at her waterline again. 

Joel's hand came to his neck, rubbing away the much-accumulated tension, while looking around the room to search for something else to focus on. His eyes landed on her again - how could they not - and he paused. Blood, bruises, brewing with anger. He could fix some of that.

His eyes went to the pot of water still resting on the coffee table after all this time and then over toward the hallway.

He cleared his throat. “Now, I’m gonna go see if there ain’t something around here to clean you up with.”

It’s said with genuine care, but it's not hard to read that perhaps it’s also a distraction - a misdirection- to take away from the fraught way the conversation had come to a close.

Joel scooted past the couch with a slight limp, heading toward the hallway and out the room, leaving Ellie sitting alone.

[athena-xox]

Hi! I've been wanting to send asks for a while but couldn't think of a good question until recently.

I have three questions (or perhaps I should say headers).

One: How's your rewrite progressing? At what stages is cannon altered? Are there going to be concepts/characters ignored entirely?

Two: I've seen your (humorous) plea for long/multi chapter eah fics what are some of the favorite's you've read already? Any chance you have an idea of your own outside the rewrite? long or short (chances are yes, for literally anyone in this fandom but it bears asking).

Three: What fairytale(s) would you

A: Like to repeat

B: Could functionally thwart if you had to live through it.

C: Die in, or flee the land to avoid at all cost's.

Omg love the questions. I will admit I’m a bit to brain dead to fully comprehend all the questions so if I answer I different question that what you intended feel free to correct me.

With that being said, the first chapter of my rewrite is done and basically fully edited I believe it’s around 6000/7000 words. Chapter two hadn’t been edited but it’s kinda a weird one so it doesn’t really need to be edited and it’s only around 2000 words.

Chapter 3 I’ve written a bit of it and it’s also a short and I have a layout for it. And chapter 4 is going to be on the longer side probably 6000-10000 words. But after those are done and edited hopefully I’ll publish the fic!!

So that’s the progress, for what parts of canon are being altered, I think a lot of characterization. Bunny, Alistair, Crystal, Milton Grimm, Snow White & EQ are all characters who were either portrayed as good or morally grey that I’m going to make evil (whoops spoilers) and then also kitty isn’t really going to have a redemption arc like she did in spring unsprung, she’s just going to continue to chaotically be herself.

And then just every plotline / character will just be slightly more mature and in depth. And it depends on how you see canon because the rewrite is going to be a mix the tv series + the books which vary a bit on canon. And then obviously a lot more queer representation.

I wouldn’t necessarily say that the epic winter arc is being disgraced but it’s going througu many changes. I’ll probably get ride of the whole through the woods concept because it doesn’t really add anything to the plot (although I am adding a musical that doesn’t really do anything for the plot except allow be to geek (theatre kid) out and give us some cute dizzie moments).

I really want to include her but I don’t think there’s going to be any room for Bella sister. Other things from canon that I’m not including is darise, Meeshell being a horrible singer, DARABELLA, Maddie having visions, the snow king, cupids crush on dexter, the revealer rays, probably lots more but I can’t think of them.

Onto the next question I definitely have some fic recs. I’ll probably make a separate post for it but my top 2 are rewrite ignite restart and a legacy of brambles and thorns.

I think the reason why I’m actually commuting to the rewrite is because it’s really the only eah fic I want to write since I plan to hopefully cover all the characters and ships I like. In my past fandoms I’ve had like 20 different fics I wanted to write but I never got a around to all or them.

Oh wait actually I guess I have one idea but I doubt I’ll ever write it since I want to focus on the rewrite. But during my transition stage from the mlb fandom to the eah I was thinking about an au. Either the eah characters with miraculous’s in the real world or mlb characters at ever after. 

Okay and for the last questions im assuming you’re asking which fairytales I’d like to 1. Be a part of 2. Don’t want to be a part of and I could stop it 3. Would have to run away from ?

1. When I was little I had the yearbook thing that had you create your own eah character and I always wanted to be a princess so I made myself goose girl

2. Definitely wouldn’t want to be like Jack in the beanstalk so I just wouldn’t take the beans

3. Sleeping beauty was my fav when I was younger so I definitely wouldn’t want to have Faybelles destiny. Or be an ugly sister, that would kill my self esteem (no wonder Bella and Brutta ran away)

For the last 3 questions I wasn’t sure if you were asking all abt me or if any were for my rewrite.

Anyways tysm for the ask !!

[darcydarlingdabbles]

❣️🖋️ Darcy Darling’s Writing Update 🖋️

Dec 17th, 2024

(yes, I'm using the banner again. Causes it's pretty and I like it~)

🩷Fanfics |✒️Original Fics |🩸Fave Comments

~Fanfics~

At Mid Winter~

Posting every day until Christmas ~

All other fics on pause for the holidays

I made a new Banner for this AU~ first fic listed on my master post

Falling for the Morningstars ~

The rough draft is about...8 chapters ahead of the posted fic

The tension, is delicious~

I write linearly, but this is the slowest burn I've written and I AM DYING.

Until the Devil's Last Dance ~

First draft of Part 2 completed last night at 1am XD

Ngl, the ending of Part 2 made me cry

I can't wait to start Part 3, the in Hell section is my favorite and it has the happy ending~

A Harmony of Haunted Hearts~

This is the Alastor/Charlie/Vaggie one, my only not RadioApple

Rough draft is only about 2 chapters ahead of the posted fic

My other slowburn baby, killing me softly,

The Melody Between Us~

The spin off of The Static Between Us that I said totally wasn't happening but now totally is. XD

I started out writing shameless smut about Vox being cucked, now it's a whole thing.

This fic is last on my list currently, sooo don't expect updates until like mid January. But I'm impulsive so the first chapter/Prologue is up. (it's just a scene setter though don't get too excited XD

~Original Fics~

You can read these for free on Ream, but I've also got a special offer for my fanfic peeps to read for free for a year.

Throuple vs Plant Zombies -

Books 4, 5, and 6 have been vaguely summarized, about to do a chapter outline before the end of the year.

Book 1 is being published Jan 22, 2025 and is on preorder now!

Alpha reader gave me feedback that there was too much drama, not enough zombie...me, dramatic? Never. But I fixed that XD

Smalltown Sheriff 2nd Chance MM -

Book 3 has been finished!

Book 1 is being published Feb 19, 2025 and is on preorder now!

Everywhere but Amazon...thanks Amazon.

Got flagged for being erotica...whoops, look my boys are horny Okayyy? XD

MM Age Gap Superhero/Soulmates -

Book 3 finished this morning!

Book 1 is being published March 19, 2025 and preorder is up now!

Another slow burn bb, why do I do this to myself. The first major sexy scene is the end of book 3...killllling meeeee.

~Fave Comments~

"I love it when they play nice with each other and have each others back 🥹" Ream User on Take Me Home "Oh I loved this so much. Alastor is always the one to console and care for Lucifer. Seeing Alastor being taken care of is so beautiful. Doms also need reassurance that what they're doing is okay by their subs. Consent, words of affirmation, and safe words are for both parties. I'm glad we got to see such vulnerable displays from not only Lucifer but Alastor as well." Kermit_in_disguise on At Mid Winter " Omyfuckinghell!!! 😳😳😳 I think I need to change my pants now....... Al sooooo good and hot as dominant role here, so I understand Vox in 5 chapter. I'm wanna be in Luci's place too... Anyway in all your works which your write amazing sex scenes. Your fics with dominant Al are really one of the best, which i found in Ao3." Anji_Newman on Boys at the Beach

You have no idea how much my ace ass prides myself on having amazing sex scenes XD

Thanks for reading~

[erisweekofficial]

Did you know a drabble is a piece of microfiction that is exactly 100 words?

We didn't! In fact, we thought a drabble was when the author got to write something free-form about a character doing or feeling something that the author perceives as significant. Whoops. The more you know, right? 

But guess what? When it comes to fanfiction, writing rules are like pirate's code: treat them as guidelines. If you wanna write 563 words of a character making lemonade and call it a drabble, we won't stop you! Sometimes folks will call these "Imagines." You can call your writing whatever you want.  

Read On if you want to learn more about traditional drabbles OR read some drabble examples. We also linked back to the prompt guides to get the gears turning. 

If you're a drabble purist, and want to learn more about the traditional requirements of a drabble, here are some resources you can use to learn more. 

Writers Digest (History of the Drabble) 

Drablr.com (How to Write a 100-Word Drabble)

GlobeSoup.net (More on How-to and tips) 

Drabble Examples from BuildWriting.com

Here is an Acotar Drabble that follows the traditional definition of Drabble: 

Eris had been skirting this very moment for centuries but longing for it at the same time. He'd cornered Lucien alone, finally, Vassa and Jurian clanging about in the kitchen washing up after dinner. His younger brother dutifully ignored the question Eris had asked, his jaw set in a hard line as that cunning mind searched for an ambiguous answer. "No," he finally spoke. "I've never thought about it like that, Eris. In my story, you've always been the bad guy." Rage welled up Eris' throat, threatening to explode. "You don't know how much it hurt when you left me."

--written by @lucienforhighking for @secret-third-thing (ty, ily)

If you're a drabble anarchist and want some examples, here are some drabbles from our community members: 

Solace by @thevanserrras

Awkward Family Brunch by @spell-cleavers

Something Special by @hopelessromwriter

All the Words We Don't Say by @sunlightsage

Wait, you may say… aren't some of these getting into one-shot territory? Yep! Some folks say drabbles are anything under 1k, and one-shots are anything over 1k (as long as they only have one chapter). Again, however, the rules are made up and the points don't matter! What matters is what YOU want to label your writing as. 

If you need some drabble Ideas, look at our prompt posts:  

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7. 

Missed your favorite drabble or have one you're proud of? Share your favorite drabbles with us! 

Have questions? Ping us! <3

[baronetcoins]

2, 6, 14, and 29 for the fic writer asks

2: Do you read/reread your own fics?

Sometimes? If I'm looking for information I wrote into an earlier one, or doing an ask game or something like that. But not "for fun".

6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

If you'll allow me a very loose definition of "all the time", yeah! A couple that stand out in my brain are

You've Got Time by Alejado (VERY good destiny series centering on a hunter and vex time bullshit)

pov: me when i fucking get you by doingthewritethings (DSMP social media fic crack treated seriously modern day tntduo au where wilbur and quackity are both on the student council and the rituals... are intricate. ft "oh i didn't tell you we were dating? whoops. I have never in my life laughed harder at a fic.)

The City v. Ahamkara by Kangoo (In which the hero of the red war turns out to be an ahamkara, and the resulting court martial splits apart a family)

After me comes the flood by Kangoo (he wrote a character study of my oc and did a better job with her characterization than I ever have lmao)

A pleasure so sublime by Kangoo ('would you still love me if I was a worm?', crack treated seriously, another one that's just so funny I keep coming back to it.)

A crowded room, friends with tired eyes by Kangoo (it's just very soft, okay?? the various destiny ocs of the court get stuck in an airport on christmas)

14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

The answer is ITAV, probably. But given that ITAV doesn't yet exist outside of the court's groupchat and me and Kangoo's dms, I'm going to say... probably funeralverse?

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

Well, the only fic I've saved cut stuff from is Oberth Manuever, so have some of the first attempt I made at chapter 4 before I changed my mind about a bunch of things.

It had been approximately three days, 15 hours, and 7 minutes since the Atlantic set course for Ganymede,and already Wilbur required the use of all his willpower to keep from pulling his hair out at the roots. Tubbo prattered on obliviously anyway, absorbed enough he didn’t notice the pinched note to Wilbur’s smile or the way his eyes glazed over. It wasn’t his best performance of interest, but it didn’t need to be.  Techno had been gracious enough to lend them use of the bridge console at least, which Tubbo had sworn would make his attempts at decryption go faster. All three of the brats had taken to hovering around the display as though their staring would solve anything. Wilbur just inhaled slowly and took another sip of coffee.  Ranboo had integrated himself into their dynamic with alarming speed. Tommy and Tubbo’s besuited shadow, always the follower and never the instigator. He played lookout and fetched supplies, and always volunteered to take the dishes after meals. At first the possibility of some scheme of masterful manipulation had gotten him excited, but after spending three days in observation, Occam's razor had forced him to conclude they were simply that dull.  Wilbur wanted to scream. Three and a half days out of their two week journey to Ganymede, and all he had to show for his efforts was an amnesiac with an Earther’s accent, and a hard drive full of information they still couldn’t read. 

[xraincloudsx]

About Me! :)

Heyo, my name is Rey, and I’m a STEM student from the UK! 

I am Bisexual, neurodivergent/neurospicy (autistic, dyslexic, GAD/General Anxiety Disorder, disasterly dyspraxic, and  probably also ADHD???? — I guess I needed to be a bit of everything lmao), and a friend to all (unless you piss me off and I get really stubborn and frustrated with you 😅 sorry 😭). This is a safe space for anyone, so, uh, don’t be a bitch please :) 

I once watched a video that said a girl failure is someone, who can’t call someone without anxiety… I have never felt so called out in my life. 

I have been a massive skeleton clikie since I was nine, and live breathe sing Twenty One Pilots. (The only christianity I follow is the God in Self Titled and RegionalAtBest/Vessel because why are the religious songs the best tracks ever composed holy shit—) 

I will swear on this blog(?), I’m not a minor, and minors are welcome, but I’m not going to police any of my posts, either, so be warned. (It should be safe content, but things might slip through IDK I haven’t planned anything, I’m just writing what comes to mind lmao). /g

My comfort/fav characters are (from the top of my head 😅 I have and will miss a lot of them): Peter Parker, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bucky, Ezra Bridger (SWR), Agent Kallus (SWR), Tahani Al-Jamil, Jason Mendoza, Eleanor Shellstrop, Janet, Robby Keene, Miguel Diaz, Johnny Lawrence, Missy Cooper, David Rose, Stevie Budd, Patrick Brewer, Mason “Dipper” Pines, Pacifica Northwest, Stanford Pines, Wendy Corduroy, Pidge Holt, Lance McLain, Keith Kogane, Luz Noceda, Amity Blight, Raine Whispers, Gus, Hunter, Benson Mekler (KIPO), The Captain (BBC Ghosts), Jonah Simms, Chase Davenport (LB), Kaz (MM/LREF), Santana Lopez, Kurt Hummel, Sam Evans, Quinn Fabray, One-One (Infinity Train), Tadashi Hamada, Marco Diaz (SVTFOE), Jackie Thomas (SVTFOE), Eclipsa Butterfly (SVTFOE), Marcy (Amphibia), Felix (Quantic Kids), Claude (Quantic Kids), andJake Peralta.

I got into writing miraculous and VLD au’s when I was twelve years old, and have been writing fan-fiction ever since — although now most of my published works are Marvel/MCU and SWR fics. 😅 (I managed to age out of my miraculous phase (thank god) before season 4, and gave up on the VLD fandom after watching its toxicity from afar, and then the process of the fandom slowly dying off 🥲). Now looking for new fandoms because I have writing burnout. (yay /sarc) 

In COVID, I made a glee fan account on insta that later turned into a multi fandom account just for me to archive and delete everything 💀💀💀 but it also led me to start writing on ao3 under the same name (rain_cloudsx). I use scrivener, and a good portion of my unpublished fics never get past chapter two… and then the ones I do post, I still struggle to update… whoops? 😅

I was also a part of the “gay insta community” (is that a thing?) from (I want to say) 2020 to 2023, and was a main poster on a shared lgbtq+ account, so now I’ve wasted a portion of my brain remembering hundreds of niche terms and identities, which will never come up in a conversation again. 🤣🤣 (You have no idea how hard it was to stay silent and not correct a friend when she said demisexual was when you lose attraction to someone after getting to know them 😭😭 I couldn’t act like I’d memorised the entire asexual spectrum when I’m not ace-spec or aro-spec and instead was an autistic tryhard “educator” in my teens 😭😭😭). For a while I thought I could be genderflux, genderfluid, or at least somewhat agender/genderless, but I honestly don’t know anymore. She/her pronouns are good, I’ve always been fine with they/them, and occasionally, I like he/him — and this is regardless of if I’m a woman or agender, I genuinely do not care about pronouns. Right now, I just say I’m a woman because it’s easier, although I do somewhat still identify with the genderqueer, agender, and gender-fuck communities — I’m just not deep down in the activism and educating side of it anymore — the emotional burnout is real. 

This was supposed to be a short summary about myself, but has turned into a goddamn story — sorry about that. 🥲😅 Enjoy the blog lmao 

[graveyard-equity]

Library Haul thoughts:

ok so I usually just post a photo of my semifrequent library visits on twitter, but I think I'm gonna start doing retrospective-style rating/review posts about the books!

Last time around I got:

Daredevil: The Man Without Fear by Frank Miller, art by John Romita Jr. absolutely amazing. Miller's approach to comic book writing blows my mind. really a page-turner of a comic book, and Romita's art did NOT dissapoint, even if some of his cover art (featured mostly in the back of the book and between chapters) wasn't as good as his work in the comic itself. i could wax poetic, orrrrrr i could just tell you to GO READ IT NOW!!! capeshit truly will never be better. solid 10/10. elektra was a bit problematic but i do love that in a woman

Superman: Son of Kal-El (Volume 1: The Truth) by Tom Taylor, art by John Timms i don't hate it? i guess? it needs time to cook. the concept of Jon not having a secret identity/civillian persona is pretty interesting, even if it does kinda feed into the modern issue of NOBODY HAVING CIVILLIAN LIVES OR FRIENDS THESE DAYS in marvel and dc. i do like that Jon is, so far, a more leftist superman, that is nice. what is *not* nice is his boyfriend's color scheme. pink on orange on green on blue...... it doesn't take a fashion guru to tell you he DOES NOT HAVE THAT SHIT ON!!! it is quite nice to have some Lois Lane acknowledgement in-universe, though. He's fine, but again, needs more issues to grow on me. DEEP 0/10 for the fashion on display, 7/10 for the book as a whole. I should have read it before Daredevil.

The Unbelievable Gwenpool (Volume 2: Head of M.O.D.O.K.) by Chris Hastings, art by Chris Hastings, art by Gurihiru and Irene Strychalski chat when they tell you that comic books can be started anywhere they do not mean it like this. i should have read volume 1 first. i simply did not have the attachment necessary to find gwendolyn poole endearing. She just. kept fucking up in really extreme and embarrassing ways that made me want to give up on her. also where is Jeff the Land Shark????? 4/10, maybe i'll try again later

The Brain Eater's Bible by Pat Kilbane Conceptually interesting, but i have ipad baby brainrot so i couldt finish it. the art and SFX photos were really cool though, and the diary format looked interesting

Millennium Snow (Volumes 1-2) by Bisco Hatori this one's made by the same author as Ouran High School Host Club, but is nowhere near as good. it's like. proto-twilight-esque, with a love triangle and self depricating vampire and a werewolf guy who has family issues. it does have a leg up on meyer's work by being significantly less mormon in its mythology, though! and nestled straight in the middle of two mountains of (admittedly enjoyable) mediocrity, there lies a shining jewel of writing and art. A Moment of Romance. it's almost queerbaiting, almost gay. it's a tragedy. it's a romance. it is an utterly insane read that was so so so much better than the rest of the book. 10/10 for the whole book just for that short story. (the rest of the book was fun too)

Tiger & Bunny (Volume 1) by Sunrise, art by Mizuki Sakakibara meh. it's alright, but you can definitely tell it was adapted from an anime and not the other way around. a lot of set-up that didn't really strike me. it would probably be better if i read the anime first and then came back to it.

The Complete Poems of Emily Jane Bronte published by Penguin Books ipad baby brain strikes again!!!!! i. maybe perhaps DNF-ed this one after the first 2 poems because they had the exact same rhythm and that annoyed me. :) whoops

Once I go and get more books, I'll post them on here!

[kessielrg]

[Super Danganronpa 2] Pixel Perfect: Chapter 3

Chiaki is given a one-up.

Or, in which Izuru wonders if letting her die would have been more merciful than this.

And Hajime can’t stop apologizing.

Summary: In which everyone tries to adapt.

Notes: I have five chapters planned, and after finishing this one, I realized how I really don't want to write chapter 4. Parts of chapter 5 are here and there so I might end up finishing that first. ^^;

I dunno where this story will go after chapter 5 though- if it should. I may just call it the end right then and there. Any prompts/ideas on the subject are welcome (within reason lol)!

Rating: K+

AO3 link: here

-

Hope radiated on Jabberwock Island in the days that followed. Everyone kept finding new ways to make the island accessible for their friend. It kept them busy. It kept their hearts full that Chiaki Nanami, once dead, was alive again thanks to Izuru. Chiaki’s paralysis wasn’t going to stop anyone now.

“We’re surrounded by water!” Kazuichi realized one afternoon.

“Yes, and?” Fuyuhiko questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, Chiaki’s gotta learn how to swim again.” came the sure reply. “And I can help with that!”

“How?” Sonia then inquired.

“Just wait and see.” Kazuichi told them, winking for good measure. Fuyuhiko rolled his eyes. This was going to be a long one.

Teruteru had similar quality of life changes in mind for Chiaki.

“There’s no way that she’s going to eat hospital slop while I’m here!” he declared. “Tell me her rehab progress and I’ll make it better with my meals alone!”

“Doubtful.” Nekomaru sniffed. “But a good meal would help put the pep in her step again.”

“Not that she’s able to take any more…” Sonia reminded them all, lowering her head in reverence.

“Right.” Nekomaru nodded. “But the point still stands.”

And so Teruteru’s cooking was added to Chiaki’s rehab plan. There was no expense to be spared with each dish he made her. Each meal perfectly complemented whatever workout Nekomaru had planned that day. Sometimes he even slipped in a desert- as an after workout treat, of course.

Another sign of caring from her peers was about to happen for Chiaki. Kazuichi had finally finished his special machine. He had Chiaki and Mikan meet him at Hotel Mirai’s swimming pool. The young man was practically bouncing on his toes as he introduced what looked like a chair attached to a connected to a curved lamp post.

“Ta-da!” Kazuichi happily presented.

“O-oh,” Mikan approved, “This could work out well.”

“What is it?” Chiaki asked.

Kazuichi puffed his chest up high.

“It’s a pool lift!” he explained. “It’s a neat little chair, perfectly Chiaki sized, with a hydraulic arm that can lift her in and out of the pool.”

“Swimming can help regain some of your upper body strength.” Mikan then went on to explain. “I-it’ll still take a bit of training to adjust to.”

“The lift will be the easiest part!” Kazuichi joked. He then started to scratch the back of his neck. “The only caveat is that I haven’t… tested… it… yet, heheh…”

“Then let’s try it.” Chiaki suggested, shrugging.

Kazuichi’s eyes lit up with both joy and concern.

“Serious?” he asked.

Chiaki nodded.

“I’m not ready to be bedridden again,” she admitted, “So let’s get some swimming practice in.”

“Alright!” Kazuichi whooped. At the same time, Mikan let out an anxious, “U-um…” that went ignored. Chiaki herself offered a smile.

-

She deserved that small break. It made her pleasantly worn out once she got back to her hospital room. Chiaki leaned back against the hospital bed and closed her eyes for all of a moment. The low hum of the air conditioner narrated the empty thoughts inside her head. It was so odd being alone at the moment- every day it seemed like she had some sort of visitor in her peers. She would never be alone for long. Usually a silence like this would have unnerved her. But now?

Chiaki must have gone to sleep because the next thing she knew, the door to the hospital room was opening. Chiaki tilted her head to the side to see how it was. Her visitor made her smile.

“Hey stranger. Been awhile since you’ve come around.” She gave a spot on her bed a pat. “Come sit. I’m so bored right now.”

Hajime lingered at the door. Even from where she was, Chiaki could see the rather blank expression on his face. It was like he didn’t expect to find himself there. Then, like a death march, Hajime moved forward slowly. His expression was still and was doing its best not to break. It all went up in smoke the moment he was within arm’s reach of Chiaki. There were tears in his eyes, and he’d be damned if he was going to wipe any of them away. His legs gave out just as he reached her bedside. If anyone had walked in, they would have thought he was praying over her.

“I’m sorry.” Hajime croaked out. “I’m so sorry, Chiaki.”

Chiaki put on a small smile. She moved her hand to gently brush against his hair.

“I’m here now.” she quietly said. “Isn’t that what matters the most?”

Hajime shook his head- more as a gesture to pull himself together than to disagree with her. He wiped away his tears before looking up at her. She still had that smile. It was like nothing had changed.

But everything had.

And Chiaki could feel it.

“What happened while I was gone?”

A jolt went through Hajime- he could feel it prickle against his mind in two different directions.

“You mean no one’s told you about The Tragedy yet?” he asked.

Chiaki shook her head.

“Never heard of it.”

Hajime looked away. “Consider yourself the luckiest person on earth then.”

“That bad?” Chiaki wondered, raising her eyebrow.

The expression on Hajime’s face became darker.

“You have no idea.”

-

After hearing it all, the only reaction Chiaki could give was a breathless “Yikes.”

Hajime absently nodded.

“The world we knew while at Hope’s Peak is gone.” he said- his voice not quite his own. “In its place is something new. Perhaps something terrifying. We’ll have to see.”

Chiaki leaned back in her hospital bed and sighed.

“So that’s why everyone’s changed.” she mused. She looked over at Hajime.

“You’ve changed too.” she then said, bringing her hand up to touch his cheek. Hajime helped her by taking careful hold of her wrist. He even absently leaned in to the gesture. He looked at her with his dual colored eyes, making Chiaki bite her lip slightly.

She eventually brought her hand back to her side -some resistance from Hajime aside- and tried to sit up a bit more.

“Tell me, and be honest.” she then said. “Are you Hajime or that… that other person. The one who came after Junko killed me.”

“Izuru Kamukura.”

“Yeah. Him.”

Hajime looked down, unsure of how to answer at first.

“I’m both.” he decided to say. “But it’s complicated. Sometimes I feel more like Hajime, and other times I feel more like Izuru. We share thoughts but not feelings. It’s like there are two different people in one head, and it gets…”

“Confusing?”

“Yeah.”

Silence fell in between the two of them then.

Hajime broke it with another, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Chiaki told him with a shake of her head.

“But I-”

“Brought me back.”

“Because-”

“You didn’t need a reason. You just did it.”

“But-”

“Hajime, shut up.”

Hajime immediately recoiled- his mouth perfectly pursing together and waiting for permission to speak again. Seeing it work so quickly made Chiaki snort.

“Let’s just… relax for a bit.” she then suggested. “Just you and me, like we used to. Okay?”

Hajime nodded. “Okay.” he agreed.

Chiaki smiled. Hajime smiled back. And then, for a moment, they found peace in each other’s presence once again.

[dashawfrostart]

This Week In "Time & Again" #22: AUTOMATION 101 Because I Said So [Techy!] [And Other Ideas] 😎

I was thoughtful, so I did some simple math for the reason of mere curiosity and statistics. I counted the number of panels per chapter, just to see clearer what lies past and ahead of me, and to entertain myself. It turns out, the average number of the panels in every chapter for the chapters 1 to 4 is 92. Counting Chapters 3.1 and 3.2 as separate entities, just because they're basically two books anyway. It was a double chapter. ... Which means that for every more or less normal sized chapter I make I draw 92 separate little artworks, most of which have backgrounds and somewhat advanced, non-simplistic shading (although my latest art philosophy intends to go the opposite direction... but it only intends to do it, it does not necessarily do that very well yet, lol). Not just stick people. And here's the good part: Chapter 5 contains whooping 187 panels. The simple math tells you it's roughly double the original amount. Mostly because I needed to show the maniacal changes in Lothar's expression, the gradual changes, the agony. I hope those pretty numbers serve you well and answer the ultimate question of where the heck I disappear so frequently. And how much work it is. For one person. (and yet, I honestly think I do quite well regardless) Obviously, I disappear into "Time & Again". That is the right answer. That's how it's supposed to be for an artist working on something that is incredibly important to them 😁

But enough numbers, here are some exciting (and also facially hilarious) snippets from the storyboard! (of course, includes censorship by The Author, because Lothar never stops cursing)

With the page by page script fully storyboarded by now, I took a small detour on my road to Chapter 6.

Within the last few days, I set to work on the two important tasks, one of which is already accomplished by now.

The first task - the one that's done - was to mass process a tremendous amount of older artworks for the grand reupload (larger than the number of the panels in Chapter 5 - and that's sayin' something! 😱). I had 138 older artworks that I needed to resize and reapply a watermark on top; plus additional 77 to perform the same very task on afterwards. Why that is needed is a secret for now. But it will definitely see the light of day soon-ish (hopefully). ... As you can already guess, doing all of that manually would've been yet another nightmare - especially since my memories of going through pain and real hell of adding full bleed to "Time & Again" are still fresh in my mind, and hot like cakes straight from the oven... Also, of course, I didn't feel like dedicating a whole bloody month doing just that either, when I have Chapter 6 on the go as well as a transformation of Chapter 4 (more on the matter is just below). That's why I urgently needed automation of sorts. I'm a little surprised to discover that in my older post about how I prepared "Time & Again" for paper printing I totally skipped talking about an incredibly useful plugin for Krita that's called Krita Batch Exporter, made by GDQuest (whose videos I actually watched a few years back when I still worked on my game about the sleepy knight... but alas, as you might guess, the game never happened. oh well). Even though the plugin originally is aimed at indie game devs, it proved to be useful to me when I was working on full bleed areas for my chapters and when I needed to match them to the final print size. TL;DR: I simply opened all the pages of my graphic narrative as multiple layers, mass resized them all, and then batch exported layer by layer with the help of that very plugin. Simple and fast. Thank you so very much, GDQuest! 🌻 But alas, with the task that was ahead of me this time, with the supermassive number of random artworks that varied in size and aspect ratio GREATLY, that trick most likely wouldn't have worked. Instead, I braved learning the usage of ImageMagick command line utility. I was thinking about using it to batch edit and import "Time & Again" for printing, too, but back then I was not brave enough and didn't want to bother. This time, I urgently needed to learn. For a tech savvy person such as myself - who is a hardcore Doom nerdist who practiced modding not once but twice and thrice (and still does it 😁), a person with a lot of experience making older programs work on newer Windows, it was not very difficult. Yet, it still required some dancing with a tambourine around a table before everything started to work like a charm, and, of course, asking my Editor-In-Chef for guidance. I will even share my incredibly simple batch file code:

magick mogrify -filter Lanczos -resize "1200x1200>" *.png magick mogrify -filter Lanczos -resize "1200x1200>" *.jpg pause

to batch resize (and override!) all the PNG and JPG files to 1200 pixels wide or high depending on the original aspect ratio (unless they're already smaller), using Lanczos scaling method that proved very useful for downsizing the larger pieces to produce clean result. Afterwards, I needed to take my signature watermark and stamp it on top of all the downscaled artworks. I started working on the code for the image overlay in ImageMagick... And then, working on something totally different, I found out that IrfanView can do that for me. And unlike ImageMagick, IrfanView has UI (whatever will you do?.. I am indeed a person who has to see things in front of me, even though I'm not scared of CMD 😁). IrfanView is simply fantastic. It reads lots of different file types, it saves the watermark settings, and it works very fast. Adding my watermark to all those files was super easy and quick. And I only spent, like, one day doing all of that instead of a month of work manually 😁 Whooohoooo! I cannot verbally describe how rejoiced I am! (And I think I also used IrfanView to work on my Doom mod... that's why I installed that nice piece of software. Peanut Butter Jelly Time!.. Aaah, memories)

So that is done! Now you just gotta wait for all these 138 + 77 = 215 artworks to reappear in the internet sometime this year for everyone's happiness 😉

I am also glad that earlier this year I have discovered that Inkscape now supports batch export of layers natively - which is INCREDIBLY useful for my project (because I always start from arranging text and speech bubbles on multiple layers in Inkscape before porting everything to Krita for further work).

The second task bears a huge importance: I am polishing and slightly expanding Chapter 4 for the "Clean Cut Edition". The feedback on the chapter I have received earlier from my early access readers indicated a certain lack of hints... It was actually meant to be fairly vague to begin with. However, Chapter 4 was the only chapter for now that had a few outtakes from the script I wrote. I figured that I could fill in the gaps and make it easier to understand via the addition of a small (by my standards, lol) passage of text, aside from adding "Notes, Hints & Commentary" section. Ironically or not, all things considered, I simply decided to restore the cut content that was originally present - the content that I excluded for a truly naïve and dumb reason of keeping the page count intact (and, as we could see as of lately and thanks to my math above, Chapter 5 broke all those limitations and standards of yore anyways). Now I'm sad that I dissected my script without a weighty reason back then. But good news! I'm restoring all of that for the Clean Cut Edition! AND now with commentaries 😁 As for now, all the text and panel placement is decided on, and the only thing I have to do is to draw extra faces of Lothar and [redacted for the reason of spoilers for those who haven't yet read it] to portray a proper conversation between the two. And I think that the extra pages fit in quite nicely, too.

And aside from that, I also worked on a random artwork featuring Lothar. Here's the teaser; the full version will be uploaded soon.

And down below there's a bit more stuff I'd like to share today (even though I started writing it a few days ago, so idea simply accumulated in my head), in a form of expanded theses:

Since I don't want to stretch it all out as it sometimes happens with my endeavours, and there's no actually useful AI that might help me speed up the process, I think I'm going to try something peculiar this time, and it might sound... well... a bit crazy. I've been thinking about that for a while already (quite certainly, since the times I used to be an active DeviantArt user, which makes it approximately... 15 years by now?! wowza!!!), but never really had a chance to try out that approach. I was thinking about dropping the sketching phase completely. Earlier I've mentioned that, when I work on the comic pages in digital workspace once the approximate sketching and paneling on paper is all done, normally I work "in stages", outlining the panels in Inkscape first, then gradually working my way from sketches to lineart and, finally, to colouring, in segments. So I'm thinking about skipping the sketching part completely and doing the final lineart right away - simply because it will save me time. And quite possibly, a lot of time. AND time is a precious resource - so said Winston, and they were right. I understand that that might not be a good idea - but the student must learn sometime and through intense practice, right? And since I wished for that since a near immeasurable time ago, but then never ended up doing that for a reason unbeknownst even to myself - then it's probably the time to do it. Well, I'm looking forward to an adventure. I promise there will be no eyes on different height or any other fancy-schmansy stuff, and no extra fingers. With my demands to the quality it's near impossible - of course, unless intended. 😁 (I will still do simple sketches first for the complex views and angles. Otherwise everything will look crooked. Come on. I'm not that proficient yet.)

Ever since the development of Chapter 6 has been started, and its plot was in the stage of an embryo, my research lead me to a fairly solid conclusion that Lothar is a sociopath. He passes the test quite well and complies with numerous criteria wonderfully, I don't even have to doubt that. Heck, I don't even know if I like Lothar anymore... That Ar*****ch has done some very questionable stuff in Chapter 5. I just want him to put himself together and finally move on, preferably in a somewhat positive direction. This is also one of the reasons why I want to finish "Time & Again" - to help Lothar redeem himself. Come on, dude. Get in the effing robot... Eeeerrrr... Please don't take that too far though; that was just a figure of speech.

That's enough for today. See you soon 😁