#thinking now that most of them do have a sort of fur coat? but it's dense and slicked back

[tenspontaneite]

Still figuring out how I want to draw slugcats, but I'm definitely going for Weird Mustelid vibes now. Have some Survivor 🙏

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

what would they look like as villains? I know that some have canonical versions, but I would like to see your intropritation (let's be honest, for most - the evil alterego is an exact copy, but only with a slightly modified color palette and frowning eyebrows)

(I'm sorry for my English)

oh, this was a wonderful ask to get on the eve of spooky month ;D im not god at villain (re)design but it was a fun thinking exercise! (also im assuming you were asking about HoMies xD so)

I mean, there is only so much one can do to remake protagonists into villains and yet still have them remain recognizable, so no wonder evil!versions often are just recolor/frowny sort, but I tried my best to be creative ;D

(and your english is alright! no worries)

also while you can imagine them being as villanous as you want in these designs, there are some little blurbs/backstories i made up for myself as I tried to design them, if you are interested (they are various shades of dark, since you know, tragic backstory and all that lol):

Kim Possible - Hero for Hire turned Mercenary for Money - Kim is widely known for her profeciency in hand-to-hand and quick thinking when on the jobs, but one time something went terribly wrong. Maybe client info was unreliable, or a freak accident, but as the result both Kim and Ron got hurt, leaving Ron in a hospital permanently, and Kim with scars and trauma. After that the girl who worked on favors and rides lost her trust/belief in goodness of people, becoming jaded by reality of a job she accidently found herself in. Kim changed into someone very cold and calculated, someone who started taking jobs that required using serious weapons instead of gadgets, and more importantly getting paid, so she could support her best friend (who is in coma and thus unable to influence this downwards spiral Kim find herself in).

(in contrast to canon!Kim's free flowing hair, she ties it back in order to never be distracted in crucial moment. has a lot of new scars due to more dangerous jobs. i still cant decide if she kills with her weapons or not, but she certainly learned to hurt people. also a very complicated relationship with Shego, since Kim is also a mercenary now, but Shego still remembers that girl she was and is conflicted about this new Kim)

Danny Fenton/Phantom - Ghostly Hero turned Ice Prince - s3e6 Urban Jungle turned out differently, when in the end, defeating Undergrowth, meant also hurting everyone he had been connected to at that moment (level of hurt depends on your preference for angst i guess lol), but anyway, Danny horrified by what he have done (and with memory of Dan still haunting him), still technically unstable with his Ice Powers, flees back into the Ghost Zone to the one place he knows he won't be able to hurt anyone. Sequestering himself in the Far Frozen, he goes full Elsa, and become a remote Ice Prince, that even Far Frozen Yetis are still nervous around, with his only contact being Frostbite. Slowly he wastes away, freezing from his powers not only physically but also like emotionally.

(fun (?) tidbit: fur on his new snow cape/coat is from yetis, unfortunate to wander too close to ice prince. so there are a bunch of partially bald yetis in far frozen lol. Danny is constantly covered in bits of ice and frost, since his ice powers are unstable due to emotional damage. Danny's crown is not a conscious choice, but rather a manifestation of Far Frozen starting to bond with Danny's ice core to become his lair and also sort of recognizing Danny as future Ghost King.)

Jake Long - American Dragon Guardian turned Corrupted by Dark Magic Dragon - Series Finale The Hong Kong Longs, ended differently, when Dark Dragon left a parting shot before he was inprisoned for another Millennium. Since meeting Jake, Dark Dragon has been interested in aquiring him as minion/apprentice(?), and had been steadily trying to sway him to his side. But as he lost he made a last ditch attempt, infecting Jake with Dark Magic. As the result, Jake now cannot control his Dragon Form, being steadily consummed by the Darkness and turning more Draconic as time passes, until he will become full Dragon all the time and under the thrall of Darkness. The change is harsh and as the result Jake falls into violent moments during which he hurt his loved ones that fight to keep him from changing. In one of his more lucid moments, Jake flees to hide away in order not to hurt anyone.

(it seems an interesting thought to expand on the possiblity that the Dragon form can overwhelm the human part and that it would associate with dark magic to succumb to its baser instincts, and also would be a great opening to all those wonderful draconic fan headcanons fandom made about Jake lol)

Ben Tennyson - Hero Wielder of Omnitrix turned Corrupted/Hacked Ultimatrix Unstable User - During Alien Force Ben tried multiple times to hack/meddle with Omnitrix settings, and when he continuously tried the same with Ultimatrix in Ultimate Alien, something has gone wrong. Ultimatrix has bonded deep into Ben's DNA and body, and now every change is felt acutely, not to mention the alien perceptions are now unfiltered and Ben recieves the raw experience of being a different speices/state. It comes to a point when it start to mess with his mind, only made worse by Dagon's reemergence and all the enemies. In the final showdown of Ultimate Enemy goes differently, how? no idea (again depends on your preference level of angst lol). But as the result, Ben, unstable and a little crazy, is on the run with his corrupted Ultimatrix, his reputation in tatters and is considered dangerous by Plumbers.

(i had a little extra idea of Omniverse continuation, where new Plumber Rook Blonko, now has to hunt his hero turned crazy tragic villain Ben Tennyson. Very emotional and angsty (and a bit gay lol), where Rook continuously trying to unsuccessfully catch crazy Ben and convince him to let Azimuth and plumbers to help him.)

Juniper Lee - Youngest Te Xuan Zhe turned Corrupted/Fallen Te Xuan Zhe - in this case in Out of the Past, what Ah-Mah Jasmine feared about Fallen Te Xuan Zhe Kay Yee managing to corrupt Jun has sort of came to pass. After defeating Kai Yee, being touched by the overwhelming power of Magical Elders has left its mark on Jun, as well as Kai Yee's words and Jasmine's initial fear about/distrust in Jun (she is like 11-12 people, it would FUCK HER UP MENTALLY???). As Jun goes through her rebellious teen phase, the unfairness of her trapped position as protector and the demands of it, grates on her more and more, and she finds refuge in studying magic. As the result, her magical ability grows and as her desire for freedom, and the smallest seed of corruption from the events of Out of the Past grow too. So in the end, Jun learns magic to wield it , like Kai Yee, but unlike Kai Yee, not just for battle, but for personal goal of freeing herself and any future Te Xuan Zhe of her family line.

(fun tidbit, Jun doesn't continue to dye her hair pink, instead she uses blood from battle ;D morbid i know but i couldnt help it i like the imagery of her passing her bloody hands through the white part to paint it. she has lightning scars all over her body, that appear only when she uses magic - a manifestation of her brush with orb of magic elders.)

Rex Salazar - Last Hope Against EVO turned Contained and Controlled Weapon of Providence - Rex's return 6 months after Breach transported him and his introduction to Black Knight goes very differently. Instead of prolonged mind games, Black Knight just imprisons Rex pretty much right away while he is vulnerable, content to attempt to trigger Rex's amnesia ad use the mind-control collar, to turn him into her mindless weapon. She was sorta successful? But with Ceaser on the inside, he managed, with the help of Six and Holiday, to free Rex, even if it was too late to save his mind. As the result, whatever reeducation Rex suffered from Black Knights left him instinctively reacting with force and in defense. The whole last part of the season goes very differently in this state, and the finale also ends differently, with Rex, overwhelmed with power of Omega Nanite (God) but in no mind to actually control it. So in the end he is forced to be contained as his friends and family try to figure out how to save him.

(the angst of mind-controlled Rex is something I enjoy, but since he canonically is immune to it, the idea of an induced amnesiac episode seemed like a best bet for this one, but with like double the angst since Six&Holiday would have to struggle not only with Rex being turned into amind-controlled weapon but also him not knowing them)

Randy Cunningham - Chosen Norrisvile Ninja turned Disgraced/Fallen Ex-Ninja - relatively early in his career, after accidently releasing Tengu and Howard getting possesed by it, Randy makes an ultimate sacrifice by burning the Ninja Mask in order to defeat Tengu. However, he didn't expect that Tengu-possesed Howard to be sealed away together and the Ninja title being taken away from him for his reckless (even if noble) decision. Frantic, because he lost two important parts of his life, his best friend and heroic purpose, Randy tries to get the reborn mask back, but it, along with the Ninjanomicon were spirited away by the Messenger to pass on to another candidate. And thus starts Randy's panicked downward spiral and frantic attempts to get back the mask in order to free Howard. Since he still has his memories, Randy trains to become a better fighter. He knows he has to fight the new ninja for the mask, since he believes the Ninjanomicon would advice strongly against New Ninja helping Randy free Howard. In school He becomes known as resident outcast with bad reputation who lost his best friend under suspicious circumstances, and magical underbelly of Norrisville another antagonist for the Ninja to battle. However he still retains an odd sense of honor about Ninja (because he was one) so when opportunities to team up with Sorcerer, McFist, Sorcereress come up, he either ignores them or uses them for his own goal. The closest thing to hit home for him was when Mac Antfee also tried to get mask back, but for his own selfish purposes unlike Randy, well, lets just say Randy was pissed.

(i feel bad since i practically nipped Randy's career right on the bud, unlike others, but this one felt like a good turning villain opportunity unlike season finale. also! the idea of Randy beng an antagonist to the next ninja, while struggling with his own goodness and desire to save Howard is incredibly interesting to me lol. also he got scars from Tengu)

Zak Saturday - Heroic Fighter for Cryptids turned Cryptid Kur re-Reborn - the last episode, where Argost took powers of Kur and subsequently Zak died for about 3 minutes, Zak didn't reawaken unscathed. Kur is not only powers to control Cryptids, it was a person once, and after Zak died and was ressurected, a part of Kur has come forth, because some part of Zak has been lost in his death. A changed Zak Saturday worries his family, with him being quiet and introspective, not to mention pale/golden eyed and slightly zombie-like from his brush with death. Inside, parts of Zak the Kid and Kur the Olden Cryptid mesh and mix, leaving this new Zak struggling with who he is. As time passes however, Zak the Kid is slowly loosing the battle with a much more powerful older part of the soul of Kur (it wouldnt normally happen but Zak the Kid lost a significant part of his spirit when he died, which was filled with Kur) slowly regain his abilities (like in TGAS). At some point a change happens, and Zak retreats from his family, starting to wander the world as two parts of him struggle for dominance.

(fun tidbit! Zak's outfit is the same from his future vision of him overtaking the world as Kur, it seemed approrpiate lol. Also for some reason I kept thinking of Van Kleiss (from Generator Rex) when designing evil!Zak. they kinda have the same vibe)

Jenny XJ-9 Wakeman - Robotic Hero of Earth turned Robotic Overlord - this is a bit of mixed influences from different points: in season finale Dr. Locust turns Dr. Wakeman's creation against her; Jenny's Older Brother Armagedroid; Vexus attempt to sway Jenny to her fellow robots side; the whole year where Jenny was mind-controlled by a bratty kid and everyone feared her and even her mother planned to create a new XJ-10 in order to defeat her; and also a bit random but that one time Jenny pretended to be a villain Ruby Rocket (hence the red color scheme with bits of Armagedroid/Cluster designs). I have a bit less clear timeline for this, but lets just say its gradual and that at some point a lot of manipulations Jenny suffered turned her against humanity and their use of her robotic brethern. While she does not desire to destroy humanity like her brother, she certainly lost her trust in it, and after a manipulation one time too many, she snaps, turns into a leveled up version of Ruby Rocket/Anti-hero persona, she takes her sisters and leaves to Cluster, where Vega welcomes her. Jenny still protects Earth, but admittingly from afar and in a more evil way I guess?? She loves her mother, but she struggles with Dr Wakeman's previous disregard of her siblings and just callous regard to her creations (Wakeman can be cold/serious/to-the point, without Jenny constantly reminding her that she wants to be like a normal girl).

(Jenny was the hardest, because I couldnt find a clear point of turning in the series for her, so I decided to go with gradual change of mind about humanity sort of deal.)

oof this turned a bit long lol, thank you anyone who read through this clusterfuck! As you can see i sort of went with 'Were a Hero - tragically turned Anti-Hero due to circumstances' kind of vibe, since Im just unable to imagine these guys be like trully horrible evil villains (and this way is more angsty, since, like Fallen Heroes and all that). Im not that creative lol. Anyway, i hope you were as entertained as i was when creating this haha ;D

[elbiotipo]

Question: he would the hair in cat ears work for catgirls? do they get the same hair covering the ears as the rest of the head or would it be shorter for the ears only? if a catgirl has long curly hair, is the hair covering the ears also long and curly?

I would have to research that, but given I have a research subject next to me (my cat) cats do seem to have shorter hair in their ears by default, which makes sense because ears are well, ears, and they need to be mobile and clear of obstructions.

You can see here that this cat (not mine, he went away as I was writing this) has medium-length fur but the hairs covering the ears are rather short. It makes sense it would be the same for catgirls.

Now, does this mean that cat-people hair would be the same as their fur? Do notice that cat fur has a very different length and texture from human hair in that human hair doesn't have that layered thing that makes most mammal fur, individual hairs are also much longer. Furthermore, humans are WEIRD, just plain WEIRD in our hair distribution. No other mammals are like us, there are certainly hairless mammals, for sure, but the human distribution of hair is very much unlike other primates, with our hairy heads, stomach/pubic areas, beard and armpits, while those are usually bald in other primates. There is still considerable debate on the evolution of hairlesness in humans, from endothermic regulation (better sweating) to sexual selection (which might explain the persistance of, well, hair and body hair instead of complete hairlessness). What's interesting is that genes for a full fur (hair, I guess) coat in humans are still there, just disabled into vellus hairs which are a lot less prominent. If you want more on the subject, I warn you, it's a deep dive, but you can start in Wikipedia.

BACK TO CATS THOUGH, something that people often forget is that whiskers are indeed another kind of fur, but not only that, they are active sensory organs that take a big part of brains in many mammals. One we also lack. Humans are strange. But while cats can live without whiskers, it's still something very important to them. So I think that is something we forget about felines and feline characters.

It would also be a real interesting thing if cat-people had different hair, as in the thing in top of our heads (which seems to have evolved to protect our stupid big brains from the sun) similar to cat fur. Perhaps a catgirl would look pretty much human, but from touching the hair, seeing her eyes, perhaps even whiskers, you would see different stuff (assuming a fantasy or such setting). Given our genetics, it's not exactly implausible to have people whose fur just sticks to their hair and tail. It's just, well, I really need to make a post on this sort of stuff one day.

For a VERY fun deep dive into cat coat and eye genetics, I found this site full of deep explanations and charts about cat genetics. Including HYPOTHETICAL cat coats:

Honestly, don't miss it if you're doing cat-like characters. This is way more fun that just sticking ears and a tail and be done with it. Put the cat in catgirls again, that's what I say.

[pkmncenterguy]

‘Help I just got my starter’ FAQ

1. My popplio is making weird sounds, is this normal?

Compared to most pokemon, some of the noises that popplio can make are very different. They make very loud noises that sound sort of like barking. Chances are your popplio is just making normal noises- try searching up a popplio noise compilation to see if the sounds are similar

2. My litten just coughed up ash, is it dying?

Most likely no. Litten hack up their furballs and use them as a base for fireballs, chances are your litten accidentally set the furball on fire too early, and they’re unlikely to do it again. If this keeps happening though, its worth taking them to the center for a checkup

3. My rowlet sleeps a lot, is it okay?

Almost certainly yes. Rowlet are naturally nocturnal, its common for them to sleep away an entire day. Rowlet owned by trainers can adjust to day schedules gradually, but its common for them to be drowsy while they’re adjusting, and even then short naps during the day is normal behavior

4. My brionne is mimicking my behavior, why?

Brionne love dancing, and see it as a way to bond with their loved ones. They also love learning new dances. Chances are, if your brionne is mimicking your normal behavior, it wants to dance with you but is settling for mimicking your daily routine instead

5. Ow, my torracat keeps scratching me when we’re being affectionate! What am I doing wrong?

Two common possibilities. Keep an eye out for your torracat’s body language, its possible it wants to be left alone and is giving you a painful reminder of that. But if it seems really affectionate and scratches you anyway, thats likely on accident. Torracat have extremely sharp claws, but theres a lot of methods to deal with this that I can’t get into here (just NOT declawing. NEVER declaw any of your pokemon, this actively hurts them.)

6. Why is my dartrix moody all of a sudden? Why isn’t it listening to me?

Most likely because it’s dirty. Dartrix are very concerned with preening their feathers and hate getting dirty, to the point that they’ll ignore their trainers if they allow their dartrix to get dirty. Invest in a bird pokemon care kit if you haven’t already and help them preen daily!

7. My primarina’s singing voice sounds different, is it okay?

The most likely culprit is throat strain. Primarina require a lot of extra care to ensure they don’t wear their voices out, double check to make sure you’re meeting its needs (theres plenty of pamphlets on this at your local center). Otherwise, its worth a center checkup asap

8. MY LITTEN/TORRACAT/INCINEROAR JUST SET ITSELF ON FIRE FOR NO REASON

This is normal! They do that to burn away excess fur on their coats, usually twice a year. Incineroar might do it more often in battle though. Just provide your pokemon a safe place to do it beforehand and nothing should be scorched

9. I think I spooked my decidueye the other day and now its mad at me. What did I do?

Decidueye are extremely alert pokemon constantly aware of their surroundings, so very little surprises them. This does mean that anytime they are surprised though, they HATE it and freeze up or lash out. Additionally, the only reliable way to surprise them is if their guards are down, which they commonly are around their trainers. If you did something to spook your decidueye, it likely felt you betrayed its trust and is upset at you. Just try apologizing, if it was an accident its very easy to smooth over. It’ll be more difficult if you did it on purpose though, spooking decidueye is generally a bad idea

[tkingfisher]

Following the monk seals snorting eels post, I’d said that it wouldn’t be the tenth weirdest thing I’d heard about mammals. And then someone in the tags asked what the ten weirdest WOULD be.

Okay, I’ll confess there was some hyperbole there, because I didn’t have ten off the top of my head, but here’s three that strike me as A Thing:

CW: Animal injury and death! Also it’s disgusting! Read at own risk!

We all mostly know about hyena genitals by now, which is pretty wild in and of itself, but it gets weirder. Given that they have to give birth through the pseudo-penis, you’d think they’d be better at it, but the umbilical cord isn’t as long as the lady hyena’s junk, AND there’s a weird elbow turn, so cubs often suffocate on the way out. This may explain why they’re born so goddamn angry that siblings have been observed fighting *while still inside the amniotic sac.*

(I once peed while surrounded by hyenas. The African bush is not an easy place for a woman with a small bladder.)

(That’s not a weird mammal fact, except insomuch as I am a weird mammal.)

Lemurs will take giant millipedes, nip them to make them secrete toxins, then rub the millipede on their fur as insect repellent. But the millipede toxins also make them High As Fuck and cause them to salivate, so you end up with a bunch of stoned, drooling lemurs passing around a millipede that probably had other stuff to do today, dammit.

Ambergris is a weird waxy mass that stinks like the devil eating sardines in hell, and so of course is used in perfume. (It mellows.) For centuries nobody actually knew where it came from, just that it would sometimes wash up on shore. Eventually it was discovered in the guts of sperm whales and some clever soul figured out that it involved the indigestible bits of squid, like beaks. “Aha!” said humanity, “it must be whale vomit!”

Humanity, alas, was unduly optimistic. See, the whales regurgitate most of the squid beaks normally—they’ve got four stomachs, like a ruminant, and since they can’t chew, the first stomach is super tough and muscular to crush their food and to resist the assault of the squid, which is often still alive at this point—and so if they barfed up the beaks, there would be no ambergris. But sometimes they swallow the beaks instead and it lodges in the softer bits of the whale intestines. And then more beaks get hung up on it and more and basically it’s like a whale bezoar, and since this is of course moderately painful, the body secrete a mucusy goo to cover the sharp edges so it doesn’t poke the soft bits, the way an oyster coats sand to make a pearl.

Except, of course, it’s a whale intestine, not an oyster, and instead of a grain of sand, it’s like the world’s most disgusting Katamari. (Okay, technically it’s called a coprolith, aka “shit rock” but it’s just sitting there hooking any indigestible bits that get hung up on it, as well as a bunch of whale poop, and getting bigger and bigger, so I stand by my simile, dammit.)

Now, if you get a whale who keeps swallowing their beaks, over time, the coprolith gets so big that it creates an intestinal blockage. And at that point, one of two things happens. Either the sheer force of liquid whale poo trying to come out dislodges the coprolith and the whale takes the sort of crap that songs are written about…

…or the whale’s gut explodes. (Well, ruptures.) And the whale expires, bloats, pops, goes through the process of whale fall (which is amazing in and of itself) and the ambergris floats to the surface and marinates in seawater for a decade or so, casts up on a beach, and gets sold for a whopping $10k a pound.

Interestingly enough, making ambergris is a very rare condition, found in less than 5% of male sperm whales. (It only happens in males. Don’t ask me why.) Hunting sperm whales for ambergris would be ludicrously inefficient, and it’s classed as a “found” object under international treaties, which means that you can sell it if you find it cast up on a beach, unless you’re in the US, which classes it as a by-product of an endangered species, although enforcement is usually a little more concerned with the people smuggling live parrots in their socks and not with your disgusting lump of found whale poop.

So, yeah. Mammals. We’re a thing.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

I love the idea that creed likes pets from people he considers to be pack, but i would love to hear what kinds of affection you think he likes?

do you think he likes gifts? touch? how does he return those sorts of affections?

Okay, platonic yandere affection for Sabretooth headcanon time!

• This guy loves physical affection. Pets, hugs, cuddling, sleeping in a nest or bed or sprawled in the same room together, nuzzling, grooming hair and combing it and braiding it, fist bumps, large pats on the back like getting hit by a bear, bear hugs, he craves touch, he only wants it from his obsessions/pack, though (so definitely Logan, possibly Remy, Laura, and Reader, and maybe some of the adults or teens he views as pack or pack-adjacent)

• Appreciates gifts. You took time out of your day or night to get him something or make it or cook it or prepare it, so he appreciates it, if not loves it or cherishes it or stores it safely in his room (den) where no one but him is allowed to see it or touch it. You got him some gloves or a fur/fluff-limed coat? He's wearing it proudly, warmly, and gets mad if anyone tries to tear it or get blood on it. You found some bones on your walk and wanted to give them to him? If he can, he's collecting them in a special container, or even wears them as a necklace. You made him a cake for his birthday? With frosting and buttercream and handmade decorations? He will savor each bite, he is making sure you eat a piece too, and will not share unless it's with someone else he trusts or views as pack (family). You made a painting of him? He's putting it up in his room (den), or in his own safe house, it's being kept pristine and dust-free and protected from aging, and he will show you different forms of art He's learned over his near two hundred years of existence...

• If you spend time with him, he looks forward to it. You are on the same team, and have been teamed up for a mission? Ha, looks like you two get to bond a little! You went on a hunting trip with him, instead of staying out of the rain and staying warm? Well, he's making sure you both get something, and will lrudky display whatever you catch, while cooking the meat (will also collect pecans and walnuts with you or even some wild berries when those are in season). You ask him if you two can go to a museum? He's taking you, he's keeping away anyone who stares too long at you two, and might even steal a piece later if you seemed to really like it...

• Call him "pretty good", "a friend", or "dad", amd you're not getting rid of him, EVER. He loves hearing praise, especially ehen it comes from you. You call his claws "awesome" and "so sharp, that's wicked!" and "shiny", he's purring, and possibly helping you maintain your nails/claws/talons just as well as his. You say he's "a master of the hunt", "a clever hunter", "strong as a bear", or anything that compliments his wits or strength or hunting abilities, he's preening at it, chest puffed out and a fanged smile on his lips. You say something such as "You're coat is so cool, and soft!" or "your hair is well-kept", or "huh, those are sturdy boots", he's prideful about it, because he takes great pride in his appearance and taste in looks. (Does he care what others think? No, not most; but you or the rest of his pack/pride? Yes, he cares what y'all think, and he'd only take criticism from y'all)...

• Would he return any of these affections? Yes. 11/10. You feel down or upset or scared? He's tryi g to comfort you by reminding you how strong you are, how ferocious in battle, that their words don't matter; and if they hurt you or abused you, they won't be around to do it again... You feel nervous about your appearance? He will tell you deadpan that yes, you appear fine, you look nice, your piercing isn't weird, now let's go annoy Logan. You seem to be sick or out of sorts or worried? From everything he's remembered and memorized about you and what you like, he's getting you a gift. Something good for dinner, check. Something shiny, check. Maybe some new movie to watch, check. A bit of a torture session done to an enemy of yours, check. He doesn't mention that last part unless he's certain you won't freak out... initially, at least... You need hugs or you're too cold and in the snow or you aren't able to walk back and are wounded? He's embracing you close and tight and possessively; he's bundling you under his coat with him and wrapping it tight around the both of you; you're being picked up and held close and not let down until you're somewhere safe and being checked over...

(This was fun! Thank you, @hermesserpent-stuff !)

[whotfletamothhyperfx]

During the winter does Tails get a winter coat? I think he does and most of his friends give him extra long hugs.

I THINK ABOUT THIS SO MUCH PREPARE CAUSE YOU’RE ABOUT TO GET SUCH A LENGTHY RANT BECAUSE IVE WANTED TO TALK ABOUT THIS SO MUCH, So have a few of my favourite scenarios I came up with a while ago cause I adore the idea of Tails getting his winter coat

To answer the questions about cuddles yes he does get lots everyone absolutely adores when he’s getting his winter coat because it means he’s much more amazing to hug. There as times where tails will be doing work and people will just drop by to hug because he’s so warm and it’s cold outside sonic gets to use tails winter coat to his advantage though because he lives with tails so he can use tails fur to heat himself up whenever he likes

Anyway back to the angst I’ve always have this idea of my head of in the middle of winter they have to go to some sunny and hot place to find a chaos emeralds and of course since tails is the only one who really gets their winter coat they forget to take that into account when going to humid places in the middle of winter.

So yeah I just like to picture these lot hiking through some roasting forest and they’re starting to notice that ‘huh tails is getting weirdly tired and he’s drenched in sweat and is needed more water than usual that’s weird usually he handles the heat so much better’

But they keep going because of tails insistence and tails at this point is just having heatstroke but is trying to hide it so he isn’t some sort of inconvenience (which he isn’t if they knew then they would have had someone stay behind with him so he could rest up until they left, it wouldn’t have been problem) they also don’t notice the way he getting more irritable and confused and is clutching his head. And if they do notice then they just think it’s a bad day

after a while they notice that tails is starting to fall behind until they hear a massive thump on the ground and they all turn around to see at this point the kid has passed out from the heat. So of course they run over to him because in their heads the kids passed out for no reason.

And the second tails comes too he starts to throw up and clutch his head and can barely tell what’s happening because of the confusion. Everytime he tries to speak as well he’s slurring his words and stuttering.

So the groups starting to come to the horrifying realisation that the kid is going through intense heatstroke and they need to get him away from this heat now. They’re also poring their cold water on him while forcing him to drink some of it. Usually tails would protest all of this but at this point he’s too delirious to fight back against them.

At that point by the entire could agreement sonic just gently picks tails up and starts to rush him to the nearest village so he can he someone more cool.

Anyway after that all gets sorted he gets a very lengthy lecture about telling them when he gets too hot

[wyrm-clangen]

I am connecting the dots to make Shineivy’s death so angsty

This was on a patrol with Fierchasm who had just become a warrior at 15 moons which is later than most apprentices. She was also mentored by Riftstar

Shineivy likely had just recovered from birth that moon or maybe a moon before as her kits were 4-5 moons when she died.

Fiercechasm has the adventurous trait.

So here’s my idea- as likely one of her very first patrols post becoming a warrior Fiercechasm is sent on a patrol with Shineivy.

Likely Riftstar has to send out some patrols with Fogtail still heavily mourning rainstripe. Maybe he’s even hesitant to send Shineivy because she’s his mate and she just recovered from having kits but they don’t have the warriors to spare as likely pointed out by even Shineivy herself. So, for safety he has her sent with a warrior he knows he can trust to keep her safe- Fiercechasm.

It’s a simple patrol but precautions should be made especially in Leafbare. Still, Fierchasm is excited for her first patrol as a warrior. She’s not just an apprentice she’s equal to all the other warriors and can go any which way she desires.

When the weather starts picking up Shineivy points it out first but Fiercechasm, far too elated to be on this patrol as a warrior and feeling the urge to see explore more,insists they keep going.

Yet the storm picks up and the two are forced to hide in a cave for cover. The cave is then buried with snow leaving them trapped.

As they huddle together for warmth Shineivy may tell Fiercechasm to not fall asleep because she may not wake again if she does. And they both promise to keep the other awake. Yet, just for a moment Fiercechasm allows herself to close her eyes and she falls asleep

Eventually Fiercechasm would awaken shivering with snow coated on her fur but alive. Some snow had toppled down revealing a way out of the cave. When she notices Shineivy’s limp body she doesn’t worry at first and may even find it humorous, both promised not to fall asleep but both did. Something they can both laugh about when Shineivy wakes up

Yet Shineivy is not moving, and not breathing, Fierchasm tries to feel for a heart but finds nothing. Though she’s not a medicine cat so who knows. (She does. She does. But she’ll deny it as long as possible) she instead starts trying to drag Shineivy’s body out of the cave to get help. (If she doesn’t do it now will she get a chance to bury the body later…)

Likely Fiercechasm is intercepted by a patrol who is searching for her. With how harsh the storm was ,even Riftstar knew sending out warriors to search for his mate would be a death sentence but as soon as the storm clears warriors are sent out to find any signs of where they are..

And of course they find Fiercechasm struggling to drag Shineivy’s body with her and even without a medicine cat it is easy to tell that Shineivy is gone.

(This went on for longer then I thought lol. Hopefully my ramblings made some sort of sense)

OHHHHHHH MY GOD OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD- SOBBING SCREAMING THROWING UP

Fiercechasm's voice shaking from the cold while she tries to reassure Shine that they're almost home. Shineivy not responding, but that's- that's fine.

The idea of her thinking this would be such a funny story to tell when they got home- the two of them falling asleep in the cave despite their promise not to. Shineivy- bright eyed and snarky as always, would make some silly joke about how she'd earned a nap for putting up with a pebble-brained young warrior like her, and Fiercechasm would laugh because somehow the older molly's jokes always managed to make her feel warm inside- I'M PUNCHING WALLS.

WHO WAS ON THE SEARCH PATROL??? Like, I can't imagine Riftstar NOT going, but also Plum DEFINITELY volunteers-

NOW I'M IMAGINING RIFTSTAR'S FACE WHEN THE PATROL FOUND THEM, IM GONNA EAT DRYWALL AND SOB

[box-of-chaooos]

Dcfdtl headcannons, I love them very much

Bruce

Bruce loves comics, those super hero action comics that all the boys read he loves them.

He loves getting messy, playing in mud, finding bugs rolling down hills and baking.

He likes baking, cookies, cupcakes he loves it and has fun doing so he feels in control of himself when he’s baking and independent which they all like to feel.

He does not like water on his head he can’t stand it which makes washing his hair very hard for him.

Stims by shaking his fists and shaking his head a lot.

His favourite texture is silk and he likes to run his hands over it for sensory times.

Alessandra

The big sister of the group

She likes martial arts but father doesn’t let her do it.

The bow she wears is from her baby toy that father threw away, saying it was to childish for her so she now wears the ribbon.

She takes alot of pride in her hair it’s a big part of her self esteem so she takes forever brushing it and washing it.

She loves the smell of mallow and vanilla

She likes to stim by humming and playing with her hair spinning it through her fingers.

Constance

She’s nonverbal when not with her siblings, she won’t speak unless with them and so when ever apart she mostly signs instead!

She loves to knit her favourite texture is soft cotton so she loves making things from cotton wool she makes blankets and scarfs for them all.

She stims by clapping her hands and fist shaking.

She had to sleep with the door closed she has a sort of fear that someone will watch her sleep otherwise.

When she sleeps she likes to be smushed in the middle and all snug and cozy.

She loves loves loves Christmas because the cozy feeling and lights she loves them.

She’s very neat and tidy and likes things to be organised.

Lenny

His helmet is a sensory thing, not only does it hide scars from father but it blocks out noise and light and he likes the gentle pressure on his head.

His favourite texture is minky he adores it and has a blanket made of it that he often curls in when having a meltdown.

He’s the most prone to meltdowns out of them all, the next is Bruce.

He loves to play in the mud and find bugs with Bruce.

He’s closest with David often seeking him out when he’s upset or in the middle of a meltdown.

He stims by hand flapping and giggling, you’ll often find him giggling happily over nothing but feeling pleased.

He also repeats phrases he’s heard mumbling them to himself repeatedly.

He loves to sing and finds music soothing.

Has a fascination with newts and salamanders, he thinks their funny lil things that are awesome in so many ways.

He sucks his thumb when he sleeps hence his need for braces and headgear.

David

Davids bangs cover his eyes so he doesn’t have to make eye contact, father says it’s rude not to when you talk but he can’t do it so he grew his hair out so no one can tell.

He loves faux fur like faux fur coats and such finding the weight and feeling amazing.

He has a weighted blanket.

He stims by fiddling with his hands and repeating words someone’s said, like if someone says Tuesday, he’ll repeat it to himself quietly. Tuesday Tuesday Tuesday.

He loves to play piano and often plays for Lenny.

He doesn’t like bright lights in his eyes which his bangs also help out with but bright flashy lights give him sensory overload.

He’s prone to going nonverbal when meltdowns occur.

He likes to do Alexandra’s hair for her and Constance too.

He loves rainy days and gloomy weather finding it most peaceful that way.

All

They all love to draw and doodle, coming up with drawings of weapons and them destroying the knd.

They all like the smell of lavender and use a mist on their pillow at night.

All of them are on the spectrum and help one another with all their meltdowns and listen to each others rambles.

[kingmaxstatic]

Wishing Star

A 996 word fanfiction with Starvoltz lore stuff. Takes place during IDW sonic issue #36. Wrote this late at night so it might be a tad disjointed.

Toyhouse Version Link.

"Voltz has silly thoughts about someone he barely knows."

“Everyone remain calm! The chateau was built to withstand this sort of event!”

Was the only thing Voltz could pick up on before he was dragged back to his thoughts again. He couldn’t help it, his world was just shattered. His name wasn’t known to him but his features were etched in the two instances of him. Cream fur, magenta eyes, he glowed? How did he even do that? Platypus, he was a platypus, any good mobian doctor could deduce that. He leaned against the railing as he watched a familiar blue hedgehog along with an unfamiliar black hedgehog pop out from the snow. To the cheers of the small group around them. Some faces are familiar, some unfamiliar. A pit formed in Voltz’ gut for a moment.

Did Sonic even know who he was? The years he spent helping Eggman attempting to kill him? Those hours he spent in meetings within those cold walls discussing that "blasted hegdehog". He never met the famous blue blur formally but… He shook his head, he couldn’t think about that. Not now.

The platypus, right, the platypus. 

Pressing his back against the railing, Voltz forced out an exhale. Emerald eyes scanned the crowd, hoping those magenta ones would stare at him back. That they’d share a glance. His heart fluttered at the thought. Gaia, did that platypus even know what they shared? He rubbed his coat, his thumb gliding across the cheap fabric at the thought of seeing him.

From murmurs around the chateau, he gained that he was an Eggman assistant (or “eggistant” as Eggman insisted they be called). The most important word was… well was. He WAS apart of the empire. He WAS his assistant. He WASN’T anymore. Yet there he was, about to bury an entire chateau’s worth of people, including him. On his own.

He rubbed the railing as he thought about this. Back when he was an eggi- assistant he didn’t have that sort of agency. An accessory, an extension, that’s all he was. But this guy? This platypus? He was his own villain after this. Voltz felt his chest well with some unknown feeling. Brought back to those enclosed metal walls of the prison egg, he didn’t get a choice. He was so small, so tiny. Another name on the wall, another Eggnet file to be updated. Another whisper to be spread amongst future coworkers.

But this platypus changed that. He didn’t have to be that.

His heart fluttered again as his thoughts were brought back to the figure. The hues that shined from his body as he darted and dashed. A collection of colors that made his eyes seek out the same hope in the stars.

One star shined brightly to him, it sparkled and glimmered in the sky. As guests around him spoke about refunds and avalanches, he reached up to the sky. A webbed hand clasped the distant shine, as if he could grab it. As if he could touch a star. As if he deserved to, Voltz was stuck on the ground, after all. Things on the ground could never reach things so otherworldly. Not things like him.

Fear welled up in his chest as he slouched against the railing, needing to steady himself once more. Oh Gaia what if the empire found him before he could? It was a fear Voltz had about himself for so long he had never considered he would feel that for someone else. He had to do something about this. He had to make sure he wouldn’t suffer alone.

He heard all the happy commotion but glanced around at all the guests, all of their chatter was enough of a distraction to allow him to slip back into the building. Voltz felt his breath quicken as he walked through the hallways, adjusting the raggedy coat that covered the Eggman Empire logo on his jumpsuit. Would he reveal it to him once he met the figure? His beacon of hope in this sea of… well currently snow at the moment. There was so much snow in the lobby. Pushing some to the side, he looked around, he didn’t want any of the staff to be weary of him.

Swallowing down the tense air in his throat, he finally pushed out some words “H-Hello? Are you there?” the words struggled. Voltz was not good at first impressions. Moving more snow to the side, he desperately looked for any signs of a bill or webbed hand. Alas there was none in the snow, though through the shattered window he glanced and saw the figure. That coat draped over his shoulders. The moon envied the light of his beacon. Voltz was so caught up in the moment, much like his words in his throat.

If he had just called out…

Then just as he saw the coat, the hues of warm against the cold vanished into the trees. Words found his throat too late. “W-WAIT!” He called out to deaf ears, his hand reaching out, as if he could touch a star. As if he deserved to. Falling onto the pile of snow, his chest felt as damp as his heart. His beacon disappeared into the mountains. Chances of those familiar glows now scattered across the ground.

Voltz curled up, almost by instinct. He could chase him, he could go on a wild goose chase for someone he didn’t even know. Well, he did know him, he knew his story all too well. Another one of Eggman’s assistants, a kindred spirit. Hopelessness covered him like the lazy coat on his back, though it was far heavier. If he could wear it, he'd probably feel hot in this weather.

No, he had to find him, he KNEW he had to. Legs shakily straightened themselves out as he stood. A determination flowed throughout his body, but first… he had to find out where to start.

[tee-hee-heidi]

Nymphs and Satyrs - Introduction

Aaaaaah we’re here guys! Apparently I can’t help developing Lore Trademark for everything I do, no matter how small. Anyway, I had planned a very long post about the lore of Mythical Lovers, but that would have been way too much in one single sitting, so I decided to split it into smaller posts. Let’s hope I don’t get too carried away lol.

Satyr and nymphs are a type of mythical creature I started calling Lesser Deities of the Woods, which is probably not super accurate to Greek mythology but I needed a single name for the both of them and I could only come up with this. So if you see me writing about Lesser Deities in this post (and future ones too), assume I’m talking about nymphs and satyrs as a whole.

Anyway, these Lesser Deities usually live in forests, woods, near lakes or swamps. They’re very elusive, but this doesn’t mean they hate humans, quite the contrary! While some communities are more secluded than others, most Lesser Deities don’t mind intermingling with humans, and even take human spouses. Still, they don’t really engage with humans on the regular, preferring to live far from civilisation. As Deities, both satyrs and nymphs are immortal, though they can still die from violent means or illness (something that can’t happen to Major Deities and full Gods) and while they do not die from old age, they can age! Sort of. While their body doesn’t change the way a human’s does, the older a satyr gets the whiter his fur becomes (a fully white coat is considered a great achievement for a satyr!) while older nymphs are almost completely covered in flowers. This usually takes centuries.

Moreover, both satyrs and nymphs have powers! It comes with being deities. They’re not as strong ad Godly powers, but Lesser Deities are still greatly respected and feared by humans. I’ll eventually make a completely separate post about nymph and satyr’s powers but for now the very short version

Nymph powers: related to plants. Both growing plants, reviving them, and using their natural properties to aid in various illnesses etc. A good example of their powers would be reviving a dead piece of wood, or making natural fibres bloom, or even increasing the potency of a plant, so that its natural effect is even stronger.

Satyr powers: this is still up in the air and probably subjected to change but, satyrs are really great at enticing humans and even hypnotising them with their songs and dances. Usually they use their powers either to protect their communities from humans, driving them away from their place of living, or to attract humans so they can take advantage of them. It depends. If their goal is to attract humans, their traces (hoofprints etc.) can glow, so that humans can follow them better.

Both their powers can be influenced by mood, and especially nymphs need to stay in contact with nature to be able to tap into their powers. Droughts, pollution etc. can seriously impact their magic.

And now, last but not least… children! But wait, how can satyrs and nymphs have children if they’re all male/all female?

When approaching this story I’ve kept in mind that female satyrs didn’t exist in Ancient Greek mythology. That’s a later invention (I think Roman, but don’t quote me on that), I’ve decided to build up on that when conceptualising my world, and since the female counterpart of the satyr is the nymph… I’ve technically made them the same “species” which means that unions between satyrs and nymphs are fertile and will produce offspring. Unions with humans will also result in children, but they will always be either nymphs (if female) or satyrs (if male). A Lesser Deity’s children are always Deities themselves, even if the other parent is a mortal human. The only exception would be if the other parent is a full God (like in Bia’s case)

Children are never considered bastards, even if the father is unknown. The family name (is there is one) is passed by the mother to her children.

I’m still undecided if Crino has a family name or not lol, we’ll see.

[milimeters-morales]

part two of that autistic miles oneshot under the readmore! All warnings and pairings still apply ^_^

Word Count: 6k+

Miles loves animals. That’s a known fact. Spider-Man also loves animals. This is a slightly less known fact, but still known by a good amount of people. 

“Thank you so much, Spider-Man,” a parent tells him as he cradles two kittens he rescued from getting ran over by traffic, “I don’t even know how they escaped-”

The kittens meow, finally giving Miles a good reason to look down. The people’s gazes are very heartwarming in a sense, but it was too much emotion for Miles. The parent keeps talking, the child reaching out for the kittens that Miles refuses to hand over until he has to.

Miles smiles warmly, lenses squinting in delight as one kitten tries to paw at his chin. How cute! 

If these kittens were his, he’d name them Coffee and Cocoa. They’re very pretty as well, with spiky brown coats, one of them with faint tabby markings on the legs, and with the most vibrant green eyes he’s ever seen on an animal. They would fit in the palm of his hands if they were curled up, and their pink little bell collars only add to the cuteness. 

“-and we’ll put up a baby gate for them, I promise. Now, what do you say, honey?” Miles catches the last part of the parent’s sentence as they place a hand on the kid’s shoulder.

“Thank you Mr. Spider-Man,” the kid tells him with all the intensity and sincerity only toddlers could manage while covered in syrup and dressed in pajamas, and goes to reach for the kittens again.

The kittens meow loudly as the parent swoops in before the sticky hands can touch their delicate fur, and Miles… 

Okay, don’t tell anybody this. Not even Ganke. Actually, especially not Ganke. It’s a bit embarrassing, and he really doesn’t want this to be a running joke the other boy brings up when they’re supposed to be focusing in class, and end up getting them in trouble again. Also, he doesn’t want Ganke to think he’s uncool. Okay? Okay.

So.

Miles meows at the two. Not the two kittens, no, because that's the normal and socially acceptable response in public when you see two kittens meowing and calling out to you. No, Miles Gonzalo Morales, someone who’s literally saved his world (twice!), meowed at the two people in front of him.

“Oh my god,” he immediately tries to start apologizing, but the parent bursts out into laughter when the kid starts meowing back at him. 

This is supposed to be a fun, happy moment. Silly and lighthearted. Spider-Man meowing and a kid meowing back after saving their kittens from death. Miles knows this, and that somehow makes the feeling of shame and…disgust, he realizes, at himself even worse.

But he laughs with the parent, and then the kid, because he knows he’s supposed to. He’s seen enough shows and been around enough people throughout his life to know something that obvious. But in all honesty, he just wants to curl up somewhere, and bite down, slam his head on something, throw himself into a few walls-

And he knows that’s not a normal reaction either, so he just feels more embarrassed as he laughs with the two and waves goodbye. Thank god for the mask, right?

___

Pavitr isn’t a surface hard enough to slam his head on, or throw himself onto to feel something else other than the embarrassment, but at least he can give Miles the pressure he needs.

“I’m just saying, that’s not a normal reaction. Have you ever thought of getting some chew toys?”

He’s not a dog, Pavitr.

“Not like that! I meant one of those chew necklaces, or a fidget toy, just to keep yourself uh… stable. Because you jumping to solutions like that? That is not very stable!”

Miles says nothing. He knew it wasn’t normal, and hearing someone else say it wasn’t stable was something he was always prepared for. Well, sort of prepared for. It stung only a little hearing it, and he knows Pavitr didn’t mean to imply anything too bad, but he was right anyway.

“I tend to be,” Pavitr says, rubbing comforting circles on his back. 

Their legs are intertwined, both in their suits and laying in a web-hammock high above the noise of the city. The stars are much more visible the higher you go, and Pavitr’s been taking the time to point out constellations that Miles doesn’t know the meaning of. He keeps getting off track when the legend he’s telling Miles reminds him of something he did back in his universe, and Miles finds it a bit endearing. Ganke does the same thing, though he manages to circle back to his original point fairly easily.

“I’ll buy you one. Any of us could, really! It’s no big thing. Anyway, it sounds like you just need to meow more, because I can sense you have something to say. And you keep mouthing it on my chest.”

Miles groans quietly and tries not to dig his fingernails into Pavitr as he’s reminded of the events from earlier that day.

Miles goes to groan a bit more dramatically so Pavitr doesn’t think he worsened the mood, because out of everyone he’s met, Pavitr is the most socially awkward. Not even in a nervous wreck way, he’s just so earnest and eager to share what he thinks, that he doesn’t always read the room correctly. But they balance each other out, because Miles always over-reads a room (is that even a thing? Someone let him know) and ends up really anxious about saying the right thing. It’s been happening less and less with each passing day, but the fact that it’s an issue at all…

Anyway, the groan doesn’t come out right. Like, at all. In fact, it’s more like a trilling noise that cats make. 

Patches of himself dance in and out of visibility for the most tense five seconds of Miles’s life, until Pavitr’s lenses squint happily. “You can do that too?! Lucky, I’m so jealous!” he gushes.

Huh?

“Yeah, Gwen and Hobie sometimes do that! You don’t know how badly I want to be able to- to just make a noise that people know means I’m happy without having to constantly smile or actually find the words for,” Pavitr rushes out, fully removing his arms from around Miles to hold his hands between their chest, bringing their foreheads together for a quick second. “That’s the most I can really do, that and hugs, to get my point across when I’m too tired for words.”

Miles wants to ask a lot of questions, mainly “why are you happy about this”, “why aren’t you pushing me away in disgust”, and “can you go back to hugging me”, but he settles for, “what do you mean you can’t do that?”

Too bad his brain loves not listening to him. 

He meows, and this time his camouflage kicks in completely. 

“You’re asking why I can’t make those noises?”

Well, he did say he was good at reading people, Miles thinks.

“I can’t believe I never told you! I didn’t get bitten, my powers are magic,” Pavitr exclaims happily, “yeah, this yogi blessed me, so I don’t actually have spider DNA or other stuff.”

Miles meows again, a questioning tone seeping in. (God, he won’t hear the end of this.)

“Yeah, the DNA! Y’know, how Hobie has glowing organic webs because his spider was SUPER messed up but he can’t use them because he’s not entirely healthy? So he uses the webshooters?”

No, he didn’t know that. God, he’s barely asked about Pavitr’s and Hobie’s pasts… he figured they didn’t bring it up for a reason, and he never felt the need to pry.

“Well, I don’t know if you wanna talk about the other guy,” Pavitr says, voice now a mumble as he makes a clawing motion to reference Miguel, “but it’s kinda like that. Except, uh, the opposite? Sorry if it doesn’t really make sense, I’m getting tired.”

Miles meows again, quieter to match Pavitr’s volume. 

“The purring too. I know the meowing itself isn’t a spider-thing, but I’m 99% sure the purring is, so if you ever start doing that around me, don’t be afraid.”

Right. Okay, yeah. Pavitr’s a sweet guy, he wouldn’t make fun of him about something that he was really insecure (that word felt too weak to describe how he felt) about.

“I mean, maybe you won’t make those- oh okay, well uh-“

A quiet rumbling comes from his chest. Pavitr goes silent and rubs more comforting circles into his back until Miles slowly reappears.

Pavitr wasn’t making fun of him, or secretly thinking of him as some sort of freak who can’t speak like a normal human, Miles knew that. He knew Pavitr better than that, and it was almost insulting to think of the other boy like that. He knows this already.

“I can’t keep talking, okay, so… just… keep purring? It’s super calming,” Pavitr mumbles as he buries his face into the crook of the other’s neck, “I can’t talk anymore. Sorry.”

Miles feels a very brief rush of emotion at the request and the admission, none of which he can name (as per usual), and the purring gets stronger.

___

Hobie chats up the smoking line cook in the back of the hole-in-the-wall Miles likes to frequent on particularly rough days as he orders his food. He can hear their conversation through the walls, and is annoyed by Hobie when he isn’t even involved in the conversation. 

“Who would win, a thousand rats, or five bears on cocaine?”

Miles tries to tune out Hobie’s questions as he orders their food.

It doesn’t really work, and he’s pretty sure the lady taking his order at the counter wonders why he looks so pissed off.

Walking outside and going around the back to drag Hobie away from the poor line cook he’s tormenting with stupid questions. “But you can’t even mix benadryl with-” Miles hears Hobie arguing now, and just grabs him by the collar and tugs him out of the alley.

“I got our food, let’s eat,” he tells the taller boy, who’s busy slapping his hand away and lightly punching his shoulder.

They decide to eat on the steps of a random apartment building near his own. He feels the steam condensing and dripping water into his palms and grimaces.

“What’s that frown for? Food ain’t good?” Hobie asks him around a mouth full of rice and honey chicken.

“Nah, just don’t like the feeling,” Miles says, taking the broccoli and meat out of the rice and putting them in small piles. He scowls at the juice from the meat mixing with the broccoli, and the juices from both soaking the rice with an unbalanced ratio of vegetable flavoring to meat flavoring… it’s silly. It’ll still get eaten, if the look in Hobie’s eyes means anything.

“Are you gonna eat that?” Hobie asks him, getting closer and pointing at the broccoli pile with his fork (which was missing a tine, for some reason).

“Probably not. I don’t think I’m hungry,” Miles tells him, still focused on trying to separate the carrots from the rice. Man, why didn’t he just stick with his usual order?

“I need a yes or no, mate,” Hobie tells him, pulling his fork back.

“But I don’t know, I don’t really get hungry.”

“What?” Hobie looks properly confused, and not in his usual dry “I know you’re lying to me but the lie was so bad it’s intriguing” way, but genuinely. 

“Yeah,” Miles says, feeling more and more embarrassed even though he knows the last person he should feel embarrassed around is Hobie. But he’s just so… cool, in so many ways that Miles isn’t. He doesn’t want him to think he’s weird and just avoid him. Or worse, convince other people to avoid him.

Stop it, he’d never do that to me, Miles pleads. The memory of him meowing last week tries to wash over him, but he beats it back with a stick, forcing his happiest moments to replay in his mind and keeping his hands still so he doesn’t try to bite them. Pavitr wouldn’t judge him, Hobie wouldn’t judge him. Not now, not now, not now , he begs his brain. Behave. Be normal. You’re fine.

“I just… I guess I don’t ever really feel hungry. Like, I get hungry after too long, but I only really know when it’s been that long when the headaches and cramps start. Or the dizziness and all that,” Miles explains, voice getting meeker with each word. Be cool, Morales. For your own sake, just be cool.

“How often are you eating?” Hovie immediately asks him, a hard look in his eye. 

Oh. He’s worried about- “No, look- I’m fine. I eat at the right times y'know, I’m supposed to. Breakfast in the morning, lunch in the afternoon, dinner in the evenings, maybe a midnight snack. So I’m good, you don’t have to worry about me.”

Hobie lets out a (relieved?) sigh, “And what about the times you forget to?“

“Oh, I just don’t get the signal until it gets bad, I guess.”

Hobie stares at him until Miles feels like he’s ready to crawl into the sewers and hide there forever, so he uses the passing of someone exiting the building as an excuse to look away and focus back on his food. 

“So how long has it been since you last ate?” Hobie asks him.

Miles has to count on his fingers, and apparently that action alone is enough for Hobie, because he just huffs and waves his hand for him to stop. “Just eat.”

Miles decides to stop separating the food and shovels a forkful in his mouth, still ending up feeling a little embarrassed.

___

“Ms. Spider-Man, why are you standing like Barbie?” a young girl asks him after he catches her from falling off the balcony. He’s standing on the wall making sure she goes back inside, and looks down. Right.

He’s on his tiptoes again. Clearing his throat, he flattens his feet against the brick, suppressing the strange shudder the sudden shift caused.

“Sometimes I just walk like that,” he tells her.

“Oh. Okay. Bye,” she says nonchalantly as she goes back into the building. 

Miles wishes all conversations were that easy. Children are way easier to talk to than other people, and that’s a prime example. They have a question, they ask that question, that question gets answered, and they’re (usually) fine and go about their business. 

Is that so bad? 

___

Miles is shirtless, sprawled on the couch and staring blankly at the ceiling, occasionally having to move his limbs when Ganke feels like checking the couch for the billionth time might reveal the missing lego piece he’s looking for. It’s a rare day where he and his parents are both home, so he invited Ganke over to make sure he doesn’t lose his mind in this heat paired with his parents being sappy and grossly in love in the kitchen. Why Ganke decided it was the perfect temperature and moment to start moving shit around and rearrange Miles’s limp body to check between couch cushions in search of missing lego pieces, Miles will never know.

He tries to listen to music loud enough to drown out the sound of his parents talking, and the feeling of his shorts scratching his skin. It was maddening, but it’s not like he could walk around in his underwear. He could in his room of course, but there isn’t an AC in there to keep him cool, and opening the window would be useless in the heat.

Seeing Ganke say something, Miles pauses his music. “What?”

“I was just saying how you’re fine with super loud music only when you’re the one listening to it with your headphones. Otherwise it’s like you’re being- what did you say? Stabbed in the head?” Ganke gives him a quizzical once-over before returning to check under the couch. “Would your parents be mad if I moved this?”

“Oh,” Miles says, “yeah, I don’t really know how that works either. And it wasn’t stabbed, it was hit repeatedly with a blunt object.”

“Same thing.”

“So not the same thing, and don’t move the couch, you’ll probably unearth a government secret and put us all on a list because you thought it was a good idea to show your Glitch chat,” Miles scoffs playfully, making unpausing his music obvious with loud taps so Ganke can tell in case he has anything else to say. 

“That was one time, how was I supposed to…” Ganke’s voice trails off as the song increases in volume again.

But seriously, why did he do that? Loud, sudden, and repetitive noises were the bane of his existence on one of his bad days, and extremely annoying to the point of anger and watery eyes on his bests. He usually wanted to break something if someone else was clicking their pen, or tear out his hair and bite into something if they were talking too loud to him, but when he was making the noises, he felt perfectly fine. Better, in fact. 

There was a time, he thinks, when he was around eight or nine. He couldn’t have been older than that because he lost a tooth to a car door when he was ten, and he doesn’t remember that feeling then. There were guests over, maybe his mom or dad’s friends from work and some family members coming to congratulate him on graduating some grade at the top of his class? Anyway, Miles wasn’t enjoying it. He hid in his room and under his covers with his hands practically glued to his ears and his eyes squeezed shut. They were all talking so loud, and when he was out in the kitchen fixing his plate of food, he could hear everyone chewing, smell their colognes and perfumes, and don’t get him started on the one lady with the high-pitched laugh. He hated, absolutely hated , how shrill it sounded, it made his arms feel like they were made of jelly as a cold chill ran through him each time. He didn’t say anything though, because his parents raised him better than that, and it was mean. Even eight-or-nine year old Miles could understand that, though it took a while getting there.

When he sat down and began to eat, his fork scraped his teeth in the first bite. He gagged quietly and ran to his room, scratching at his arms and biting down on nothing repeatedly. He wanted to scream, but he wasn’t going to draw attention and make everyone worried. He wanted to tear at his face and hair until it all came off, he wanted to bash his head in the wall until he couldn’t feel anything, he wanted to just crawl out of his body. He didn’t want to feel what it felt, that awful, repulsive, spine-chilling feeling of silverware against his two front teeth. He couldn’t breathe, and curling into a ball against his bedroom door once he escaped the front area didn’t help. He rapidly tapped his nails on the floor as he tried to search for any solution.

Which led to him curled up tightly in his covers with his hands over his ears and his nails digging into his skin. He tensed his entire body up the second he wrapped the covers around him, constricting not too unlike a snake that has caught prey but with all the care of his father’s hugs after he made him proud, and curled his toes as if it would change anything. He found that biting his lip helped, but his mother wasn’t too pleased with that when she found him a few minutes later, wondering where her little boy had gone.

Her singing a calming tune that she usually sang to get him to sleep as a baby didn’t help at all now.

She sighed, and Miles expected her to tell everyone to leave and that the party was over because Miles was too upset over nothing, but she came back a few moments later and put some headphones over his head in place of his hands.

“They were a gift me and your father were going to give you tonight,” she whispered with a small smile, pressing a button on a silver ipod nano, and music filled Miles’s ears. He felt his eyelids start drooping immediately, his shoulders slacked, and could feel all his senses slowly going back down to 5, instead of the 11 they were dialed up to. The song drowned out everything in the world, erasing all the reminders of the loud people, disgusting feelings, and violent thoughts.

“Come get us when you’re feeling better, okay?” 

Miles nodded, incapable of doing much else, and his mother kissed his forehead before quietly leaving the room.

Of course, he can’t afford to be like that as Spider-Man, so he mostly suppressed those negative feelings when he could. He hears all that stuff all the time now anyway with his enhanced senses, so he’s just going to have to deal with it. It’s not even as bad as it was when he was a kid, it’s way easier for him to grit his teeth and keep pushing compared to all those years ago.

But the control that comes with his music sort of… cancels out, he guesses, the negative effects that the noises give him. He’s in charge of what plays, when it plays, at what volume, and at what speed. If he’s in control of the noise then it’s not bad. If he isn’t, then it’s bad. Simple as that.

“Yeah, I see it that way too,” his father’s voice is muffled but still close enough to make Miles jump.

The man laughs and thumps him on the shoulder. Miles cringes at the feeling of the cold sweat making contact and lightly shoves the man’s hand off with a smile.

___

Miles stayed up late in his bunk, staring wide eyed at the screen. He had finally decided to look up all of his symptoms, something his mother and friends always told him not to do very often unless he wanted to discover he had a rare type of brain cancer, and was surprised by what he saw.

10 Signs Your Child Has Autism (And How To Cope)

Is My Son Autistic? Twenty Ways To Deal With Food Avoidance In Autistic Toddlers

Sensory Overload and Sensory Processing Disorder

Autism in Girls V.S. Boys 

Am I Autistic Quiz (Real Answers)

Signs Of Autism & When To Call Your Doctor

Why Are Autistic Girls Less Diagnosed Than Autistic Boys?

He turns off his phone and goes to bed.

___

Crawling back into the dorm after a long night, Miles pulls off his mask and lays down next to Ganke, who’s still playing his game. “Hobie, can I ask you something?”

“I’m asleep,” Hobie says from his sprawl on Miles’s bunk. The older boy must have snuck in while he was out and Ganke didn’t try to chase him out this time.

“Are you autistic?“

“Do it look like I’d care mate?” A boot falls off and hits Ganke’s leg, making him grumble in annoyance. Miles leans into him and rubs his arm until Ganke gets the hint and wraps it around the boy, not once taking his eye off the screen. 

Miles rolls his eyes. “And you, Ganke?”

“Probably. Mom said it’s ADHD but I don’t really care,” the boy mumbles in response, subconsciously leaning back into Miles, “not like it’d change anything.”

Miles smiles. That’s true, Ganke probably doesn’t care about anything like that. He’s always pretty chill when it comes to people- actually, that might not be the right word. He can be pretty harsh or wired, but everything he says is in a tired and chill way. “Remember that time you told me you hoped I died because I accidentally spilled sriracha all over your new pants?” Miles asks him, smiling at the memory.

Ganke laughs fondly, “Oh yeah, man I looked like I bled through and just never noticed. You were so lucky we were in here, I would have killed you if I had to walk across the cafeteria with sauce all on me.”

“Aw, you wouldn’t’ve done that. You love me too much to kill me.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“You do.”

Another boot drops on Ganke’s leg, and a pocket knife falls out of it when it hits the ground. Hobie grumbles from above, “Shut it, you two. I got a long day at the office tomorrow. Gotta bring home the bacon for the missus and youngins.”

“Hobie said shut up.”

“Really? I didn’t hear him,” Miles says, feeling himself slipping as he watched Peter (who looked very young in this game for some reason) fight some black-and-white guy in a suit. Huh. Would people make a game about him when he died? With the made-up villains? Would they put Ganke in the game?

Ganke slightly turns his head so his lips brush against Miles’s forehead for the briefest of seconds, bringing him back to reality before he fully zoned out, and tells him, “If they do, I’ll make sure they know to include your Strawberry Shortcake pajama sets.”

Miles brings his knees up to his chest, a quiet purr starting up as Peter proceeds to get his ass handed to him in a train car. Yikes.

___

“Are you autistic?” Miles asks Gwen.

“No, she’s just blonde,” answers Pavitr. 

“Shut up,” Gwen lightly punches Pavitr, still enough to send him flying across the roof, “No, I don’t have anything going on. Why?”

Miles wipes some blood from his lip. “I was just wondering. Let’s keep going,” he says, a bit breathless.

Gwen places a hand on her hip and asks him, “You sure? You look kind of tired. I get that we just started trying this out and all, but you don’t have to force yourself to join.”

The sparring meetups let him get rid of his energy, and the feeling of the punches that almost hurt remind him of where he is.The chokeholds that are tight against his throat make his lungs burn and that burn makes him feel all the more real. The body-slamming forces his mind to stop its aimless floating away from him and to keep track of what damage is being done. The rare moments of skin-to-skin contact are like moments of pure clarity, and he can’t lose that.

In the end, when he’s sweaty and exhausted, he feels human again. Normal. Right.

“I’m sure.”

___

During lunch, Ganke places a necklace on his lap. It had a dark red guitar pick-shaped object on what looked like a pretty long piece of dental floss.

“Pavitr wanted me to give this to you since he couldn’t find you,” Ganke tells him, “and he said to wash it before and after each time you use it.”

“Is this what I think it is?” he asks around a mouth of rice. 

“Chew necklace. We wanted to give you something else to bite instead of yourself,” Ganke gestures to the bandages on his arms that were barely visible. Miles pulls down his sleeve with a frown. Those were from last night, when his brain wouldn’t give him a break and kept making him think about all the sensations he hates, and his friend patched him up. Again.

Are Ganke’s eyebags getting worse?

Miles looked a bit skeptical. He saw a picture of one a few days ago, when he was at Gwen’s and researching more autistic traits. He'll definitely be looked at funny if he ever used it though, he just knows it. Sure, people chew on their pens and pencils, even he sometimes did that, but using basically a teething toy felt slightly insulting. The very sight of it makes it look right out of a children’s book, and it’s an uncomfortable weight on his thigh, reminding him of how different, in the bad way, he was compared to everybody else. He rolls his eyes at the unnecessary reminder.

“I’m not using that,” he tells him, taking another bite of his (actually Ganke’s, who was already full from the totally allowed and not-against-the-rules outing for breakfast they took) lunch. It was a good thing Ganke naturally liked to separate his foods a lot too.

“Too bad. You can’t keep self-cannibalizing yourself-” 

“Okay wow, that’s a little much-“

“-and expecting to be fine. Isn’t your mom a nurse? What about long lasting nerve-damage, or if you bite into an artery? Or if you start biting random people because your own self isn’t enough? You ever thought of that?” Ganke asks him, not looking up from his… whatever he’s doing on his laptop.

I don’t have to think about it if I already did that, thank you very much , Miles thinks. He keeps chewing, his frown growing more and more prominent by the second. “I’m not gonna bite people. I’m not like…” he tries to save some face with the lie, but trails off. He doesn’t wanna think about Miguel.

Ganke side eyes him. “Like what?”

Miles shakes his head. “Nothing. Nobody. Just go back to threatening random people in a children’s game or something,” he says, finishing up the last of the lunch. He’s probably going to have to eat really soon again with the stupidly enhanced metabolism.

“Dude, just take the necklace and try it, because if you start biting me, I don’t care how cute you are, I’m kicking your ass,” Ganke tells him with no real heat in his voice.

Miles cracks a smile against his will, and puts the necklace in his pocket. 

___

Dear Diary,

I’ve been looking online for some stories people have about their autism and how they figured it out, and apparently my organizing and oversensitivity is like a number one sign??? I thought it was just a little habit i picked up from mami and dad? And the spider senses is probably causing those other issues. And I don’t think i’m autistic but I could probably use the things they do to calm myself down or make life a bit more bearable. 

-organizing things

-a lot of stimming

-speech issues 

-hearing issues

-pressure ← try and finally ask for weighted blanket or save money

It’s a start i guess, and then I can bring it up to my dad as Spider-Man THEN mami THEN dad (important order don’t mess this up Morales). Anyway good note to end the entry on: Ganke kissed my forehead and he does that a lot but this time he said he was proud of me out of nowhere and said he’s getting a gift for us????? Hello???? I think it might have to do with Spider-Man stuff but he usually doesn’t care so its gotta be something else but WHAT!!!!

___

“Dad, I’m just saying,” Miles begins, holding his hands up in a surrendering way, as his father washes the dishes. He’s sitting down on the counter, lightly swinging his legs. “Give Maria’s a chance, you’ve never even tried their sandwiches! How do you know it’s bad?”

“I know what I like, and I don’t see a reason to suddenly chan-”

“Oh, wait, someone’s calling,” Miles interrupts him as he pulls his phone out, seeing Ganke’s name on the screen. What could he want? Ganke usually didn’t call him, opting to text, and definitely not before 12pm on a weekend.

“How can you even see? Your brightness is set to negative levels,” his dad said, trying his best to scrub some dried food off a plate. Miles never liked doing that, or even thinking about it, because it always made him feel like his fingers were some dangerous foreign object that he needed to rip off or felt the urge to dig his nails into his skin and tear his hair out. 

“You know the light hurts my eyes,” and makes me mad, he doesn’t say.

“Ganke? You need something?”

“No, was just checking on you,” the boy sleepily mumbles into the phone.

“Before 9am?” Miles loudly gasps, placing a hand on his chest.

“Shut up. I also got a package today and you’re gonna wanna check it out.”

“Mmmm I don’t know,” Miles says, fiddling with the string of his hoodie. “What is it?”

“It’s a surprise,” Ganke tells him, and Miles can imagine him rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and blindly patting the bed in search of his glasses. His hair is definitely sticking out wildly, a few strands stuck to his freckled cheeks. 

“You know I don’t like your surprises,” Miles grumbled into the phone. His dad gives him a slightly alarmed look, neither of them liked them. Ganke’s surprises usually involved someone being scared out of their mind, a wild animal (though he tends to blame Miles’s influence on that), and some piece of tech that might take over the world should he set it loose. In fact, the last time was all of that, and Miles had to call his dad, Hobie, and then Peter to solve the raccoon-with-an-atom-vaporizer-gun issue. And Miles was the one that got grounded longer, for some reason.

Anyway, he doesn’t like really Ganke’s surprises.

“No no no, you’ll like this one. I had to buy it,” Ganke tells him. “It’s kind of for us to share since I know I won’t use it as much.”

Miles can hear his soft footfalls on the wooden flooring as he left his carpeted room. 

“I’m asking you to come over,” Ganke clarifies, “it’s so safe that you can bring your dad. Trust me.”

“Man…”

“Dude, c’monnnn. If you come over I’ll…”

“You’ll what? Do my homework for me?” Miles jokes, ignoring the way his dad lets out a questioning hum.

“Nah man, I do that enough. I’ll let you take me to those weird abandoned places you like to paint at,” Ganke comes up with. Miles can hear water running and a toothpaste cap opening, and takes this as a sign to hang up.

“Deal, man. Love you, bye. We’ll be there in like twenty,” he says rather quickly so he doesn’t have to hear gross mouth noises and spitting. 

“We?” His dad lightly pushes at his shoulder on his way to dry his hands and get his glasses from the table.

Miles nods and gums in confirmation, “Stop acting like you don’t love Ganke, we’re just going see something real quick.”

His dad crosses his arms and looks down at him with an unimpressed stare, tilting his head to the dirty floors.

“And I’ll clean immediately when I get back.”

More staring. Miles looks down, unable to handle it.

“No messing around.”

Jeff nods and walks them both out the door.

An hour later, Jefferson sits on the Lees’ floor next to Miles, who’s fully covered in a fluffy white weighted blanket with only a small hole for his face, which reveals unfocused half-lidded eyes. It’s the calmest Jeff has ever seen his boy in a long time, maybe nearly two years, and it saddens him slightly to realize this, but he’s glad the blanket is helping.

Ganke sits next to Miles with his legs crossed and his elbows on his knees, gazing at the timer he set on his phone forlornly. 

“Dad,” Miles’s voice is barely audible.

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m autistic.”

Jeff blinks once. Twice. Three times. Takes his glasses off and cleans them before putting them back on again. He opens his mouth, closes it, and furrows his brow a few times. As he processes and tries to come up with a response.

On Miles’s end, he wonders, in the back of his mind, if he made some mistake and should have just stuck with the plan he wrote, but he’s too content right now to care. He hears Ganke exhale a bit forcefully through his nose, something he’s come to recognize as another laugh he has.

“Right. Uh, right. We’ll talk about this. At home. With your mother,” Jeff decides to say in an extremely halted and forced-confident tone.

Oh well. Probably won’t change anything.

A/N: The end!!! I still have things that weren't important to say in the fic or Miles just wouldn't know them; Gwen has ADHD and is in denial, Pavitr has Autism & ADHD but hasn't told anyone, Hobie has autism but wouldn't know and doesn't call it that, Jeff is also autistic and doesn't know (the fic is originally called Autism BLAST for a reason), and that "Ms. Spider-Man" is entirely on purpose bc of the spores <3 All ooc thoughts is when the autism beast broke through. get the tranq darts

<<< Part 1

[pinkflipphonez]

NEED 2 hear more abt indigenous!amerus….

[AAHHHH oh my goodness, I love this QUESSSTIOONN!! I think--]

to begin, Russia and America have more than 300+ indigenous cultures and languages within their regions. I do not aim to represent them as a monolith nor do my hcs aim to define a solitary native culture as their respective identities. seeing as they are a personification of their countries, I see them as an amalgamation of each culture's traditions.

working off the last post where I reference them speaking Diné and Koryak:

they began speaking these languages to each other in the early 1800s because of how close they were growing as friends. seriously, Fort Ross (aka Metini as named by the Pomo indigenous people of the region) was a Russian settlement established in California that existed to trade only with Americans. Alfred and Ivan used this settlement to get to know each other better and truly appreciate their indigenous identity over the revered status of their caucasian colonial overseers (Fort Ross was actually funded by an imperialist company so pls assume cultural diffusion is the only good thing they did; I only ref it as a point in history that connects their indigeneity as Siberian, Alaskan, and American natives all passed through this fort). It started off as a means to better interact with each other's people but then they began communicating exclusively with each other,,, and then it became more intimate,, y'know.

they would often hunt together (and al absolutely knocked it outta the park) but ivan would help him with preparing fur pelts (as koryaki or aleut/inuk culture exceeded at making coats and it was the largest trade in FR).

Native American and Siberian and Inuit/Inuk peoples in early history were IN LOVE with astronomy (and i'd say the pioneers of astronomy as a science)! this is where both Ame and Rus acquired their appreciation for space, and of course, the number one thing they geek tf out about together. space is not simply their hyper-fixation, but a part of everything they do. they plan ceremonies in kamchatka by the arrangement of the stars (specifically the Pleiades, or aka sakiattiak (Inuit) or coyote's daughters (Paiute)) because it is the origin of indigenous life. they camp out in chaco canyon at every equinox to stargaze.

they don't stay 'I love you' to each other. however, they do cook each other the most elaborate and appreciative meals: venison with cowberry sauce, smoked omul, cajun salmon, frybread (NAVAJO TACOS 4EVER) w all sorts of toppings, and BEEF JERKY! they prepare the best beef jerky in the whole darn tootin world!!!

Ivan is the singer in this boy band and Alfred is the dancer (and drummer tbh). Ivan is downright gifted in throat singing and could perform the dance of the seagulls with one stoli bottle and half a bar of alenka chocolate in his system. alfred can belt out while drumming, there's no doubt-- but I can tell you right now that he is DEADLY with his men's traditional dance. tbh, he wins 1000+ seduction points with Ivan when he dances lol

THEY CREATE FOR EACH OTHER. when they hunt, they use every bone in that sacred creature's body to make each other charms, knives, bracelets, rings, little beads for beaded jewelry--

AND BOY DO THEY BEAD!! ivan's regalia is comprised of reindeer skin and beads, and al will go 40 hrs straight sewing them on for him as well as making his headbands and jingle bells (he's a pattern whizz). al is more of a boujee native, so Ivan freaking obliges him so much that he will bead the most beautiful earrings, chains and medallions you have ever seen (he is a design whizz-- also alfred begged him for one with the vegas knights to brag to his bro about cause STANLEY CUP RAAAAH!!)

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Twenty-Four

Life after Cyprus really isn’t all that interesting. In fact, I spend most of my time thinking about Cyprus, remembering Cyprus, reliving moments from Cyprus and pretending I’m still there, especially on those drizzly spring days when I look out the little Mezzotint studio window over the slick grey Dublin streets. I wonder just how much more interesting would my life be if I was in Cyprus right now? 

“Oi,” Simon snaps his fingers in front of my face, “Earth to Evie, you’ve been daydreaming all morning. Don’t you have… something to do?” He seems unsure about what exactly it is that I’ve been working on, which is understandable. Sometimes it’s cards, sometimes it’s windows, murals, signs, really, it could be anything. It just happens to be a poster for an art exhibition this time. Dull. 

“I’m working as hard as I can,” I tell him, which is true, because the most work I can manage is none. I wonder what Jude is doing. When we texted forty minutes ago he was in his studio working on his project, which is a collection of masks inspired by his travels in Asia, and before that he got a coffee in a little cafe near his university. I’m riveted by the idea of what he might be doing now. I text him again. 

Not you again…

He texts back, and I smile, no, beam to myself. 

Joking, I’m eating a pretzel. 

Oh, cool. 

I’m thrilled to know about the pretzel, and even more thrilled to receive a photo of said pretzel seconds later. It’s a salt and pepper one half wrapped in a serviette on his lap, and he’s wearing blue jeans and those green and white runners I’ve always liked. 

Miss you

I text him. 

Miss you too, Evie. Loads. Can’t wait to call you later.

I respond with a barrage of emojis, heart eyed, sparkling hearts, kisses, winky faces, flowers, moons and suns and stars. I should be completely embarrassed of myself , but I mean it all in a partially ironic way. Sort of, and really, I don’t care so much about the horrifying ordeal of sincerity anymore. It feels good to be mushy and emotional, earnest and obsessed with this gorgeous person who puts up with me, and it’s not like anybody is going to read our texts…

“You done talking to your boyfriend?” Simon is right behind me now, and I can tell that he’s trying to sound as annoyed as he can but he’s not really managing it. He’s smirking. Smirking because he saw my stupid emojis, and now I am humiliated. 

I stuff my phone back into my pocket, “I’m sorry, I’m so distracted. I’ll get back to work now, I know with this deadline and all…”

“End of day, Evie, I mean it. The client wants that poster by Wednesday, and if you have me panicking at the last minute trying to get it to the printers on time I’m not going to be happy about it.”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll stay late if I have to.”

Gabriel makes a huffing sound when Simon goes back to his seat, “He’s no fun, girl. Text your sexy boyfriend all you like.”

“Can hear you from over here,” Simon comments. 

“He thinks he’s so scary and serious,” Izzy chimes in at volume, “But he’s absolutely not. Don’t let him intimidate you into staying late.”

“If the three of you don’t shut up I’m going to implement a no phones and no speaking rule, and it’ll be all Evie’s fault.”

I catch Izzy’s eyes and she rolls them, but indeed, we say nothing else, and for the rest of the day I do my level best to ignore my buzzing phone, and work on the boring, unsexy poster until it’s time to go home. 

“Do you think I’ll need a jacket at all when I’m in Sydney?” Claire takes an army green coat with a fur collar from the discount rail at a clothing shop and holds it up to herself in the mirror. 

“How cold does it get there in the winter?”

“I’ve no clue,” she sighs, “I’m unprepared, I don’t even actually know what goes on in Australia. Do they like Irish people?”

“Probably.”

“What do you think of this coat?”

“Everyone has that same coat, Claire, it’s too trendy, and I bet they have, like, other kinds of coats in Australia. Maybe you should just wait and see when you go.”

She strokes the faux fur collar lovingly, “It’s fluffy…”

“Look, you’re going in the early autumn, which for them is…” I tilt my head and imagine I’m upside down, “…early spring, so you’ll be going into the summer, and you definitely won’t need a coat, in fact, doesn’t it get so hot there that it bursts into actual flames every few years?”

“A coat is like a safety item though, I can’t imagine being in a place where I won’t need one. Is this the end of cosy winters for me? It feels like I didn’t appreciate the one that just passed, and actually, I complained about how cold and rainy it was the whole time, and I didn’t think about the fact that it might be my last real, cold winter for years and years and…” She’s clinging very tightly to the sleeve of this coat, chest heaving, tears springing to her big, blue eyes, and I immediately reach for her as though I can somehow prevent the imminent breakdown. 

“Claire,” I say in my best soothing voice, “You’ll have cold winters. You’ll come home for Christmas when you can, right?” 

She relaxes a millimetre, “Yes, yeah I will, you’re right, my parents would be devastated if I didn’t, it just wouldn’t be right, and God forbid Shane Healy isn’t home with Eamonn and Caroline on Christmas Day, God, no they wouldn’t hear of it…”

“Right, and I know what this coat symbolises,” I try to gently pry it from her clutches, “But you’ll take up too much space in your suitcase if you pack something like this, and look,” I put it gingerly back onto the rail, “You can always get your mam to send a package over at some point, you know, if you find that the winters are actually cold and you need something heavier, you have loads and loads of nice coats, don’t you?”

She nods. She’s got that thousand yard stare in her eyes. 

“Try to think of this as an exciting adventure.”

“I do think about it like that, I just… I’m an Irish girl, Evie,” She says with conviction as though she absolutely needs me to understand it, “I always, always thought that I’d just live here forever and I’d be glad about it, I had no interest in living abroad, I was just never bothered with any of that, J1 visas and all of that craic, I just can’t believe that I said yes to Australia,” She grabs my arm tightly. “You can’t go further than that without coming back around again.”

“You’ll like it, and if you don’t you can come home.” The truth is that I don’t want her to go at all, I don’t want Shane to go at all, actually, and I’m ashamed of the fact which is why I won’t say it. Having to be the one that holds it together during this conversation is hard for me when all I want to do is cling to her and cry and beg her not to leave me. Doesn’t she know that I have trauma about that kind of thing? Why would she do this to me? “I’m sure you’ll like it there, it’ll be amazing,” I reassure her, “think about Bondi Beach and stuff, and, I don’t know, whatever else they have there. Kangaroos.”

“I don’t care about the kangaroos really,” She frowns, “That’d be something Shane would like, probably.”

“I was kind of joking about the kangaroos.”

“Oh right, well, yeah, so you think I should think more about summer wear?” She pivots to the new season rail, “More bikinis, I suppose, I’ll be having two summers in a row, that’s exciting.”

“That’s the spirit,” I say, “Who wouldn’t want nine straight months of summer?” And I help her to rummage through the rails. 

When we come home from town later that evening she’s in a much brighter mood. She’s in the mood for a full on girls night, and is going on and on about getting dressed up and doing each others hair (Which translates to her doing my hair, because I’m relatively clueless about it, while not allowing me to lay a hand on hers, understandably) and then finding a bar that serves fancy cocktails and staying out until town shuts down. 

I don’t tell her that I was excited to call Jude, actually, because that’s what I do every night now that he’s away, and I know that he’s in an especially amorous mood because for the whole walk home with Claire he’s texting me the kinds of things that make me have to angle my screen away from her.

I’ve discovered that I like this kind of thing, even if my Catholic Shame is scratching at the door when I get up to the things I get up to when Jude is on the phone. He mostly talks about what he wishes we could do with parts of his body and parts of my body, and I don’t really know how to reply or to say any acceptably sexy things back to him, but I’m more than happy to lie there and listen with shocked delight as he speaks absolute filth over the line to me. Tonight is not shaping up to be one of those nights, though, so I regretfully text him while Claire chatters about this bar and that bar and who does what drinks and for what prices. 

Sorry, I think I’m having a girls night out.

Aw, damn.

I think this is when you’re supposed to tell me that you’re happy for me and that I should absolutely spend as much time as possible with my best friend before she moves 15’000kms away from me. 

You should do that, that’s what I meant. Going out with Claire sounds a lot better than listening to me. 

Hmm… I’m not so sure. 

Have fun, Evie. I’ll call you tomorrow. 

I’ll probably drunk text you in the meantime. 

Please! I love it when you do that. 

Claire and I spend two hours getting ready once we’re home, and I love every minute of it, because she has this incredible way of making me look like the best, hottest, most spectacular version of myself. Sometimes when she does my makeup I think back in horror to what I used to let Kelly do to my face. She was dangerous with an eyeshadow brush, and as Claire carefully applies layers of exquisitely blended shimmery gold to my lids I suppress a shudder at the thoughts of what I looked like on my dinner date with Liam all those years ago. I recently uncovered an old photo from a digital camera SD card of myself, awkwardly standing by the flimsy door of Kelly’s mobile home bedroom with eyes rimmed in black kohl liner and a circle of orange foundation around the collar of my top. I don’t know how I wasn’t mocked relentlessly.

“I didn’t notice those things,” Jude said to me when I sent the photo to him, “Maybe it was just too dark out that night, I don’t know, but I remember thinking you were really pretty when we were on the quay.”

“Yeah right, I was a ghoul,” I told him. 

“A pretty cute ghoul, and by the way, didn’t you see my haircut? I definitely looked worse than you.”

Of course he didn’t, he always looked cute, but I never bother to tell him things like this, because he always denies them for the sake of being humble, or at least the pretence of being humble. I’m never quite sure which.  

Before I go out I make sure to send a photo of myself to him so that he can remember that I can look good if I try, with help from Claire and about sixty euros worth of beauty products slapped onto my face, just in case I’m stricken down by a bus tonight and that awful teenage picture is the last image he has of me.

Bring a stick with you so you can beat the guys away from you

He says, which is total projection. It’s him that probably gets swarmed by the opposite sex in bars so he probably thinks that’s what happens to everyone. But not me, never me, except for the odd time, usually in dark corners of bars when I’m a little bit too drunk, and usually by the calibre of men that Claire would deem absolutely unacceptable to make eye contact with. 

“Come on, Evie,” she’s saying now, and I realise that I’ve been staring at my reflection in the black window while she’s been zipping herself into her lightweight jacket. “Jaz and Serena are already there.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[soulsxng]

Jump ship from that emperor while you still can, Cilatyve. Listen to your parents.

Mentions @arcxnumvitae & @godforsakcn

"...My parents? I'm not sure who you're talking about." He's used to this act, by now. Acting as though his parents were both gone. Most of the time, people brought them up to see if they could get some sort of telling reaction from him, but in this case...the way it was said made him think that this person actually knew who they were talking about.

Cilatyve didn't like that one bit.

He also didn't like the timing with which this had come up; right after a fairly major falling out with Huaxiu. By this point, it was the worst they'd had.

How this person seemed to have picked up on that fact, Cil wasn't sure. But he couldn't spend time dwelling on it without it looking suspicious. Instead, a pleasant expression fixes itself on his features, and he pulls his new furred coat a little tighter around him.

"There have been a few people to say that to me since my engagement, you know. But Huaxiu...the Emperor has been kind to me. He's been patient, and considerate. And he cares deeply for his family and friends, as well as his people. I won't be leaving him, and I don't appreciate the insinuations that I should do so. He and I are partners-- he's my betrothed-- and before long, he'll be my husband. That's not going to change."

"Really, I think the topic of discussion here should be what you seem to think you know about him. What he's supposedly done that's so bad that-- not only do you believe I should run from him-- but that you're so confident in this information, that you would say so in the middle of a gathering of this size. Let alone to the face of his fiancé! Because I find that unbelievably rash; bordering on the idiotic, even. To slander the emperor-- whether he be your emperor or not."

"Leave me, before I decide to be less benevolent over your offense."

[pinkiepiebones]

You said fic prompts and, I don't know if you'd be interested, but I think reading the "Dracula murdering DRAAG" told from Mark's pov would be so cool! Like, he has no clue what's going on until Dracula starts floating in the air.

Although, it's pretty clear early on that Renfield is TERRIFIED of this guy and it wouldn't be a huge leap of logic to assume he's the boss Renfield was telling them about. Does he have a plan of action for if someone's abuser comes to a meeting? What's going through his head?

(I can't get into Mark's POV but hopefully this is... something?)

They've all gone through something that scared them. Mark's seen every single group member come in with that look, that "deer in the high beams" sort of look. In the most dire of situations, well, call the cops. Duh. But it's usually better, actually, to face the problem, to pull up that power that you're taking back and hurl it right back at 'em.

There's usually something in place for situations where and if an abuser- that's a bit of a loaded term, but in the case of the group, it's the best word for the sources of their issues- shows up. There had been a few incidents, mercifully few, of someone following a group member to the church, or a group member expressing worry about leaving the building. A church is supposed to be a safe space, right? They never had to deal with someone following a group member in to the gym.

Renfield had been doing great. Over the weeks he started some genuine self care and hygiene. No more tattered suit and rings under the eyes and that weird lingering aroma of mildew and blood, or whatever that was- he was a new guy with a nice smile and just oozed colour and happiness and maybe he was still shaky on the self confidence, but it was about baby steps. Carol had even complimented him! What a great moment! Mark had never seen true, genuine fear on Renfield's face until that night's meeting. Renfield was desperately trying to get everyone to leave, and then someone opened the door.

As the man in black entered Mark realised. He saw the terror cross Renfield's face. He saw the posture change- all pf the confidence that had been building was being smashed back down with every click of that ornate walking stick. Normally Mark would have put a hand on Renfield's shoulder or held his hand, something to ground him and keep him in the moment, in the room, with his support group. A hand to hold on to so he wouldn't be pulled out to sea. But Mark thought it safer to keep his attention on the new guy.

Renfield hadn't shared much in specifics. He'd refer to a boss, and a monster, when he shared. It was clear now that the two were the same person.

"You can leave your... top hat and cane by the door," Mark stammered.

"Renfield," the man in black chuckled, "I'm feeling much better." The man was wearing furs and an ostentatious ring on every finger, plus the top hat and cane, and those fingernails, those teeth! Had they been filed down? Was this guy a pimp? Was that the sort of work Renfield was involved in? That might have explained some things.

Mark tried. He tried to do something to knock this narcissistic so-and-so off his high horse. "Would you like to introduce yourself to the group?" The group! Were they safe? No one was moving. Fight or flight had a companion that most people overlooked- Freeze. Each of the group members was feeling Renfield's fear; it was palpable and immobilising.

Renfield whimpered. Mark's eyes shot from the man in black to the man in the colourful sweater. A single tear rolled down Renfield's pale face.

"I am the Prince of Wallachia," the man said in a strange voice. It was the kind of voice victims heard abusers use- authoritative, but coated with a veneer of faux sincerity. He walked- no, stalked- closer and Renfield shook like a baby deer.

"Some call me the 'Dark One,'" the man in black said too gently. "Others, 'Lord of Death,'" he giggled. He shoved his cane and top hat onto Renfield's arms and Renfield crumpled around the objects. Mark kept close to Renfield.

"However, to most," the man in black said, "I am known simply as-"

"Renfield's boss!" Trevante interjected.

The man in black snarled. The man in black spread his hands.

The man in black raised off the gym floor.

As he ascended, Mark saw out of the corner of his eye that Renfield was kneeling, never taking his wide, terrified eyes ofd the man in black. Mark knelt, too, casting increasingly worried glances from Renfield to the other man.

"I am Dracula."

Mark felt the words hit him like a kick from a horse. "Okay, obviously we're dealing with a little bit more than just narcissism here" he tried. He tried to talk to Renfield, to keep him grounded. But Renfield's complete attention was on Dracula.

"Please," he said, voice shaking, "I never should have forsaken you." Dracula returned to the ground. Mark tried to put a hand up as an interjection, a pause, something he had done countless times in the past as a mediator between two or more parties. This was so far beyond him, he was desperate.

"You could have had everything," Dracula sneered at Renfield. "I gave you the choice between the power of a GOD!" His voice boomed across the gym, shaking dust from the ceiling. "And the pathetic desperation of humanity."

Dracula circled Renfield like a shark. "Why? Why would you choose this," he growled, spreading his claws. 'This.' The group. Humans. Mark kept his hands up, unsure what he would actually do of Dracula attempted to hurt Renfield or anyone else.

Renfield's voice was barely audible and shaking. "Because... that's what I am."

Dracula scoffed.

"Master, please," Renfield whimpered. "These are good people..."

"Good," Dracula purred. "You finally brought me what I've been asking for." He shed his coat and smiled, and Mark looked from Dracula to Renfield one more time.

"Let's eat!"