#its almost like being able to do things safely and with less pain actually makes thrm easier to do. who would have thought

[androdragynous]

gotta say one of the worst parts about a progressively worsening disability is that there's seemingly a pretty high chance that the people around you will focus 100% on the idea of you recovering and refuse to do anything to accommodate you that could be seen as "giving up". i am so tired

[interstellarsystem]

Disorder Differences in Systemmates

Systemmates share the same brain, which often leads to the assumption that they're all affected the same by the brain itself. Its wiring, its abilities, and its disabilities. But symptom holders or those with intra-disorders are fairly common--at least in circles we run in--and they're not often talked about for fear of fakeclaiming or appearing ableist. We have headmates who are affected in all sorts of different ways by our disabilities. Some find things harder than others, while others actually find some tasks or symptoms easier to manage. It absolutely varies from headmate to headmate, which makes certain headmates better suited for fronting during certain times than others.

Merlin is more affected by our psychosis, particularly hallucinations, and xe tends to be more susceptible to paranoia. Mystery is a psychosis holder too, and has more positive symptoms like hallucinations than the rest of us, but is less affected negatively by it. It often hallucinates and falls into delusional thinking, but it's not really too bothered by it. So Mystery is a good choice for someone to front when we're having a psychotic episode. Sometimes, having Merlin cofront with Mystery makes it easier for Merlin to not be so susceptible to xyr symptoms.

I (Martin) have more obvious anxiety than the rest of us, and struggle much more in social situations. I'm much better at hyperfocusing on tasks, though. So I'm better suited for staying home and working on whatever the current project we have at the time, or keeping our to-do lists in check. Vince on the other hand is calm in most social situations that are more professional--so he's good for business meetings and such. In more casual conversation though, Vena and Merlin are much better at it and better suited to non-professional social groups.

Vince is an intra-NPD holder and also holds stronger symptoms of our BPD. He struggles immensely with percieved rejection, much more than the rest of us. But he also almost completely lacks empathy, which makes it much easier for him to be calm and logical in stressful situations. He finds it easier to help friends and those he cares about during stressful times because he's not weighed down by feeling their emotions--whereas the rest of us might break down from stress.

We talk a bit about mental disability differences in headmates more than those who differ physically. Somehow it seems more controvertial to mention that we have headmates that differ with physical symptoms while even in safe system spaces. It seems like most people (us somewhat included) mainly think of symptom holders as a mental disorder thing--a line of thinking we're trying to dispel. Headmates can have different disabilities and symptoms of all kinds, and it's not ableist or "harmful" to know that and speak about it. Headmates with different conditions to the body need to be recognised more.

Mike needed a cane in his memories and he absolutely needs our cane when he fronts more than the rest of us. He feels more at home and like himself having a cane by his side here, though, so it's good we already had one. I (Martin) need it more too--my joints are just more prone to pain. But our cane folds up nicely into our bag, so if we switch out in public, it's always with us just in case. Even if it's silly, we feel safer having a cane too--I mean, it's a metal pole. We're out as trans and clearly not your Regular Society Member, so it provides some feeling of safety to have.

Jayfeather was blind before, and since coming here he sure can see now, but he's much more light sensitive than the rest of us. The feeling of being able to see was nice at first, even if it was foreign, but sometimes he feels it's not worth the hassle. He needs to wear sunglasses when fronting because his eyes just end up hurting from even small amounts of light. Crowley is the same, except he wasn't blind in his memories--he just got used to always wearing sunglasses in his life to hide how his eyes looked, and needs them here now. They're both more prone to migraines due to this.

Merlin is more shaky on his feet than others who front often. His legs are digitigrade and in headspace he has his wings and tail to balance him there--but in the body, he doesn't have any of that. His legs are the wrong shape and he has no counterweight to his posture. Even with our cane, he's more prone to tripping than most.

Mystery was a godlike being that didn't need to eat human food, or any physical food at all. It often forgets that eating, sleeping and going to the bathroom are things the body needs to do, because it doesn't often feel the need to do them. That can be good if we're running low on food, or if we can't eat for a while such as before a medical procedure though, so it's useful in its own way. Mystery is also not used to using its hands for intricate things like tying shoelaces, as it's hands before we're longer, bigger, and mainly nonphysical. It didn't need to be intricate, so it's hard for it to do things others in here can.

There's so many more examples in our system. The thing is, there can be positives and negatives to any disorder, really--and headmates are no different with that. We don't necessarily assign headmates "roles" or "jobs" based on their symptoms or lack thereof, but for us to function better as a collective, people tend to gravitate toward doing certain things they know others can't. It's important for us to know how we differ with our disabilities, and work around them together as best we can.

Systemmates with different symptoms aren't uncommon, and they're not mocking disabled people, or lying for some benefit. I'd argue that for some systems with symptom holders or intra-disorder holders, it's increcibly important to know about how you differ and how to work together to be functional--whatever functional means for you.

[sandyca5tle]

Slime HRT - 10 Months

So - the past few months have been interesting.

My arms and legs are now fully slime except for the bones, which are now mostly just floating around in the goo. I can push them around if I put my hand inside them, which is weird on a few levels, but also pretty neat. That has been a new experience, being able to stick things in and through my limbs, but i’ve also found it kinda useful - if I need to hold something, or keep something safe, I can just kinda put it in my arm, or leg and it’s there for when i need it… have gotten a few weird looks for that though, especially if I forget I’ve got like a pencil or something in my arm.

As I somewhat alluded to, the changes in my limbs weren’t all smooth sailing, in fact so far this period has been the most awkward. First of all, once more of my feet had turned to slime, I actually found I had some trouble with my balance - turns out not having a fully solid base on your body messes with your ability to stay upright - took me a while to readjust to the new squishier ends to my legs. 

At the same time, I had to manage a decrease in fine dexterity in my hands. Part of this has to do with not quite being used to my fingers kinda sticking together, so sometimes I all but lose a finger in its neighbour. The other part is that turns out goo isn’t quite as easy to manipulate, and moves and squishes a lot more, making some finer motions harder to perform/perform as fluidly (ironically). While I can still use a keyboard, I definitely make a few more spelling errors, and I can’t game quite as smoothly, and it’s become almost impossible to type on my phone touchscreen, which has continued to become less responsive as I’ve turned more and more gooey, and combined with the loss of dexterity kinda leaves me screwed.

While both of these issues were a pain at first, I’ve learnt to adapt, and can, on the whole, still live and operate as normal (sans phone). Fortunately the slow nature of the transition gives me plenty of time to work out new ways of doing things.

The next major hurdle after that was the morning I woke up and, upon trying to stand up, had my legs just kind of pool beneath me - as in, I didn’t have legs anymore, I just had a pool of slime underneath my body. On one hand, I was very happy - I’d kinda been looking forward to trying out the ‘pooled legs’ thing I’d seen in art, on the other hand however (and in the moment the more poignant emotion) I was panicking. Turns out after 20 odd years of legs, suddenly not having them makes it pretty hard to move. 

It took me a bit to calm down enough to feel out the slime enough to find control of it and work out moving around - it’s kind of like conveyor belt logic: you move some of the slime forward, which, if you do it right (took me a few tried to do so) pulls the rest of you behind it, and you just kind of move the slime like a circle to move yourself in the direction you want. 

I actually spent about half a day managing with that, since a) it took me a bit to work that out and then I spent some time playing around with that then b) it took me even longer to work out how to get my legs to reform, and even when I did manage that, they were nowhere near stable and strong enough to hold me, so I spent a while doing that and somewhat relearning how to walk. The worst part is that for about a week/week and a half it became a morning routine, standing up, only to fall into a pool of my own slime, and it wasn’t just in the morning - while I was usually good once I got started in the morning, my legs weren’t quite as stable as they were beforehand, and so I’d sometimes end up pooled once again. Honestly, when I wasn’t in public, I usually just moved around in a pool until I needed legs, but a lot of the outside world isn’t built for people with puddle-’legs’. On that note, having to form legs took a bunch of effort to start with. I felt like I was trying to lift my whole upper body, which I guess in some respects I was, but fortunately I began to get the hang of it, both the lifting, and forming legs. Nowadays I can pretty much freely switch between pool and legs when I want, although I tend to keep to legs at the moment, as going from legs to pool has already lost me a few bones, and while I may not really use them any more, apparently they’re worth keeping so your body can convert them to more slime mass. Unfortunately I think I may have lost a couple small toe bones over the course of that week/week and a half.

The other issue with the pooling, and more slime content generally, is that I pick up all kinds of random crap off the floor. On one hand my floors have never been cleaner, on the other, I constantly have to pick shit out of myself, which while generally satisfying, is kinda a pain after a while.

The small blessing from this is I’ve actually now gained a bit of control over the shape of my slime parts. While at the moment I can really only do small things with my arms/hands (which condensing my fingers a little has helped with recovering some of my fine dexterity), and go between legs and pool with my lower half, I’m hoping that soon I’ll be able to do more exciting things. One thing I have managed is being able to extend/shorten my limbs a little, which is useful for reaching things, although I can’t go super far since I don’t have the mass, although I did work out a neat work around: I can send a little bit of slime from one arm to the other through my ‘blood’ vessels in my body, to transfer mass between them - it’s not super fast though, so it’s still pretty limited, but hey it’s something!

The other thing to report on this entry is that showering is funky now. Since my limbs are less solid now, the water kind of penetrates a little into them, and I get little bubbles of water within. Have found that this does wonders for my thirst, and when I shower I can usually drink a more normal amount, for a human, without having issues, which is nice. Have had to watch the water pressure, so as not to wash any of my limbs away, or blast my bones out of my body though, so pros and cons, as ever.

Oh! Additional notes for this update: I no longer have hair growing on my arms and legs - for obvious reasons - and not having to shave those has been nice, and I can’t wait for the same on my face - it’s cheaper than laser. I’ve also stopped taking my ‘normal’ hrt, since the recommended application spots are now slime, although I did have to shoot off an email about the non-gel parts of that since I forgot to ask about those originally, and apparently I can stop those too, so.

All in all these past four months have been… and experience. Fortunately I’m coping, although I am a little worried about what else I’m gonna have to learn to cope with over the coming months, but so far it’s all been worth it, so hopefully it’ll stick that way. See ya in the next one! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

First - Prev - Next

[gatheringbones]

[“… on the whole survivors crave precisely the things that have been demonstrated to alleviate their pain and support their well-being. These things, it turns out, are also consistent with the interests of justice and safety.

To begin the conversation about appropriate responses to violence, survivors first want validation that what happened to them is wrong. They want their pain taken seriously, and they do not want to be blamed or judged for what happened to them. They deserve this validation no matter who they are, what they did, or where they were when they were hurt. They need it no matter what our societal biases are about “people like them,” no matter what their criminal record may be, no matter whether they reported the crime to the police or didn’t. This validation matters in part because it reaffirms exactly what has been compromised when someone has been hurt: the belief that they live in a world that rejects violence and in which they should be able to be safe. It is easier to come through a terrible aberrant experience and be held in a society that recognizes its impact than to experience violence as an expression of the society’s norms, values, and expectations. In clearly, directly, and repeatedly affirming that what a survivor sustained is wrong, we stake a claim for a world in which what people endured should not have happened in the first place, and we walk with them in the process of re-creating and returning to (or creating for the first time) that world.

Once we have established our recognition that what happened to them is wrong, survivors want answers. Information contributes substantially to what people in the trauma recovery field describe as the formation of a “coherent narrative”��a story about what happened and why that the survivor can believe, make sense of, find some meaning in, and live with. So, for example, for survivors who before the crime believed that bad things do not happen to good people, there are two primary ways within that narrative for them to tell the story of what happened: either (a) that they are actually a bad person and therefore less deserving of safety, of good things, even of love; or (b) that their goodness, the way they live, their righteous behavior, their attempts to be consistently caring and ethical and kind do not matter and will not keep them safe. Both of those stories are far worse than the one they believed before the crime. In coming through the traumatic experience, the survivor who is telling this story will have to grieve the worldview they once held—one that made them feel whole and made it possible to expect at least some real measure of safety—and will have to form a new worldview that is workable and includes the reality of what has happened to them. That new narrative may be as simple (and as profound) as “Even terrible things are survivable with love,” or “I am more resilient than I ever knew,” or “Hurt people hurt people,” or countless other ways survivors make sense of and integrate their pain. These stories also help survivors accomplish a core feat of trauma healing: to arrange the story into their memory so they no longer experience it as eternal and ongoing.

But these new narratives are hard to build on the basis of mystery and doubt, so the more information a survivor has about what happened and why, the more thoroughly and quickly they are positioned to heal. There is almost never anyone who knows more about what happened to a survivor and why than the person who caused them harm. Survivors who want answers to their questions therefore need and deserve to be able to ask these questions and get those answers: Why did you do it? Why did you choose me? What, if anything, could I have done to stop you? Did you think I did something to you? Did you think I was someone else? Was that a real gun? Were you really prepared to shoot me? Did you feel bad at the time? Do you feel bad now? What would you have done if I had fought back? What happened to you? Did you think you could get away with this? People are built to heal, and when we have information, we are profoundly capable of putting it into the service of our healing. The problem is that survivors rarely have access to such information because every response our systems have created to manage their relationship with the person who hurt them is designed to keep them separate rather than to help them come together productively.”]

danielle sered, from until we reckon: violence, mass incarceration, and a road to repair, 2019

[ateriblewriter]

incubator idea:

lydia decides to help her sister and brother in law jack out in a big way, a huge favor that's nine plus months in the making. a baby because they couldn't have one on their own. at some point in time she runs into trevor at a function. after realizing were they know each other from ... sparks more or less fly. trevor notices lydia is acting differently, almost as tho she's. she would have told him if something was going on, right?

possible insert #1:

"you guys wouldn't mind if i date anyone?" lydia bit the bottom of her lip, looking back and forth between the two expectant parents. "i may have met someone before we started this process."

"you met someone?" jack's jaw dropped and eyes went wide. cece hit her husbands chest with the back of her hand at her husband's response.

sure it may not have been the greatest of timings on her part. but you can't help when you meet the certain person. or rather that person re-enters your life.

"its fine lyds. as long as they're okay with the circumstances and what your doing for us." that was something lydia had yet to do. it actually scared her to think of his reaction.

"do we know him?" jack questioned, he wanted to meet this person and if he already knew him all the better. by the way lydia was looking down at her hands in her lap it was a big fat yes.

who was it. he couldn't have been either of jack's brothers, they were both happily in relationships of their own. it could be any one of his friends. or maybe an enemy?

"does he play hockey?" his eyes narrowed, his brain going into overdrive trying to think of anyone he knew was not committed to a significant other. a few names came to mind, one in particular.

"jack. stop." cece stopped jack before he could question lydia more. he just wanted to make sure she was safe and the precious cargo she was carrying would make it to the deadline.

possible insert #2:

"what's going on with you?" trevor let go of her frizzy golden hair. this was not the first time this week he had caught her running to the bathroom.

"nothing. everything is just fine trev." using her fingers Lydia wiped away any remnants of her snack that had just found it way back to the outside world.

she didn't know how much longer she could keep the ruse of nothing is wrong with me. because the longer she went into the lie, the harder it was going to be telling trevor the truth.

"that's bullshit."

"im having a baby." she threw her head in hands. who said ripping the bandaid off was easy, because it hurt like hell. and she didn't want to lose him.

"what?" trevor's ears couldn't quite register the incoherent mumbles. she needed to speak up if he was ever going to find out what she was saying.

"im pregnant." trevor never moved so fast to get away from her, standing up to lean against the bathroom sink. so many terrible thoughts were running through his mind.

"is it jack's? are you guys?" he had to refrain himself from saying some of those harsh things. was she cheating? was jack cheating?

"yes and no." lydia could see by the look on his he was confused by her reply. she explained further how her sister and jack weren't able to have children and they asked her to be their surrogate.

"im just an incubator."

possible insert #3:

"why are you still here trevor?" lydia rubbed over the bump. she could feel another contraction starting.

"this is not a choice." trevor really didn't want to be there, still being upset with her over the events from months before he was doing this as a favor, since he may have been with lydia when she initially went into labor.

"you can leave at any time." she ground her teeth together, the intense pain sweeping over her.

"i promised jack i would be here since they're still in the air because you refused to go back to new jersey when you were supposed to." he bit at the peeling skin on his bottom lip, watching something on his phone.

trevor looked up when there was some snarky response from her. he got up, and offered his hand for her to squeeze. "hey hey. breathe. breathe." any thought of anger he had towards her was instantly washed away when he saw the pain in her face. he still loved her. he would always love her.

please read:

i have yet to decide if it will be an oc or a reader insert type thing. for the sake of garnering thoughts i chose an oc. i hope you guys enjoy this idea, cuz i kinda like it.

please please please tell me what you guys think of this idea. also please note that this is just an idea, and based off if people like the idea i will write more of story around it.

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Hi everyone,

I found another article about ADHD burnout from WebMD. This will be another long excerpt, so I apologize:

ADHD Burnout

What Is Burnout?

Burnout can affect your home, work, and social life, says David Goodman, MD, assistant professor, Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences at Johns Hopkins School of Medicine in Baltimore, director of the Adult Attention Deficit Disorder Center of Maryland, and an expert with CHADD (Children and Adults with Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder).

Goodman describes burnout this way:

You no longer take interest or pleasure in your normal activities.

You see allies (like co-workers) as enemies who are burdening you with more and more work.

You withdraw because you believe it’s impossible to get things done.

Why Can ADHD Make Burnout Worse?

The symptoms of ADHD – like not being organized, trouble paying attention, and poor time management – add to burnout.

ADHD burnout is a specific kind of burnout, says Amber Meeks, who has ADHD and is a mental health advocate from Murfreesboro, TN. Part of the problem is that “people with ADHD work harder to do the things most people do with little effort.”

Imagine yourself on an interactive exercise bicycle, Goodman says. You pedal faster and faster to try to keep up with others, your heart rate hits its peak and you can’t pedal any harder. But, even your best isn’t good enough and you fall behind the standard of others.

How Do You Know You're Burned Out?

Look for these ADHD burnout symptoms:

Lack of motivation:

“If you like working out 5 days a week, you’re probably not going to be doing that. Or, if you enjoy playing with your kids you’ll do less of that,” Goodman says.

Exhaustion

“You feel tired all the time no matter how much rest you get,” Meeks says.

Poor Performance

You may not be able to focus on the work at hand. “It may feel impossible to do anything, even when it’s really important,” Meeks says.

Pain

Stress also can trigger things like stomachaches and headaches.

Irritability

You snap at people. You yell at the kids because they spilled milk on the floor. Or you get mad at your spouse because they forgot something at the grocery store.

Troubled Emotions

You withdraw or can’t smile at people, Goodman says. “I tend to get weepy and sad when I’m burned out,” Meeks says.

Negativity or Pessimism

It can feel almost impossible to be positive about anything, Meeks says. This is especially true in the areas that are causing your burnout – whether it’s school, work, or home life.

How Do You Break the Burnout Cycle and Recover?

The first step is recognizing and accepting that you are burned out. “If your friends and loved ones say you aren’t doing well, don’t take it as a criticism,” Goodman says. Educate yourself about burnout and then get some help from a mental health professional.

Here’s what else you can do:

Know your limits

Some people think they can pile it all on their plate and carry it even though it’s dripping off the plate, Goodman says. You need to face the fact that your expectations sometimes go beyond what you can actually do. This is where therapy can help you see that you need to balance expectations with reality.

Learn to prioritize

“You won’t be able to juggle 12 balls at once,” Goodman says. You need to pick six that you can juggle well and the other six need to be put to the side until you have more time for them. Setting priorities is difficult for people with ADHD. “It’s either I need to do it now or if it’s not due yesterday it doesn’t need to be done until tomorrow. The problem is something comes up tomorrow that’s urgent and that’s how things mount up.”

Just say “no.”

People with ADHD often are people pleasers, have a hard time saying no, and overcommit themselves, Meeks says. “Practice saying no and not feeling guilty about it. The people in our lives should be understanding of the need to keep ourselves safe and healthy,” she adds.

Get some rest

Don’t feel guilty about taking a breather. People with ADHD spend their whole lives being told that they aren’t trying hard enough. As a result, they often push themselves as hard as possible, Meeks says. “Resting feels ‘lazy,’ a word that has been used against us like a weapon for most of our lives.”

If it’s broken, fix it

If your ADHD symptoms seem out of control, talk to your doctor. You may need to add or change medication or learn better organization and time-management skills. This can help you get through your days with fewer stumbling blocks and more confidence.

The full article will be linked down below as always. I hope many of you found this helpful and educational.

[skylarmoon71]

Martin Meisner (Grimm) - AU Crossover - Chapter 3

“Hey Meisner, are you cooking tonight?”

When you placed down the groceries, you turned to nothing but silence.

That’s right.

Meisner is gone.

Dropping your keys on the counter, you run a hand through your hair. It’s only been about a month, but you’ve gotten so used to him being there. 

Now the apartment just feels empty.

“Raise your hands to block.”

“I can't, I'm tiny. You’re like a giant. Even if I block it’ll hurt.”

“There’s a lot of things that are painful in life. Death is much more painful than a punch.”

“I’m not exactly trying to be a warrior! I’m not like you. I don’t go looking for trouble.”

You dropped onto the mat with a frown and Meisner slipped his gloves off.

“I just want you to be safe. Sooner or later I'm going to head back. You’re powerful. The next time you jump you might have to fight depending on the circumstances. You need to be able to do that.”

You know he’s just looking out for you, but fighting is not something that comes as easily to you. You’re even less ecstatic at the idea of him leaving. But you can’t really voice that.

Standing with a huff, you lift your arms. Meisner looks over, watching the way you clumsily try to mimic his previous stance.

“I-I’m ready.”

You would definitely get knocked down, but he felt proud. Lifting his fist, he moved forward.

“Give me your best shot.”

You still can’t believe he’d talked you into learning to fight. Thinking back, it's a bit humorous. Meisner was more or a boot camp sergeant than a roommate. You knew he just had your best interest at heart. He wanted you safe, protected. 

He was right.

Every jump you made, there was a point where you were vulnerable. Being able to hold your own was a good skill to have. Especially since you can’t truly control your abilities. You were grateful. You just wish you had a chance to tell him properly.

~Portland~

“I can’t believe we actually did it. I just got word from Osaka. Black Claw is dead, everywhere.”

Trubel’s report earned a nod of approval from Meisner.

“Update the database.”

She moved to the computer to do just that.

Upon his return he was quick to rebuild what had been broken. It took a while, but with Black Claw disbanded in Portland, returning HW to its previous state of operation was much easier. It was also much easier to have a home nearby when he didn’t have to worry about Wesen operatives trying to kill him. The function of the organization for the time being was just to monitor. 

Avoid any more horrible revolutions.

“So that woman, did you like her?”

Trubel’s question made him raise a brow.

She was smiling as she clicked on the computers.

“I’m just saying. You bought a house in Portland. If I didn’t know any better I would say you were making a place to settle down.”

He didn’t respond to the claim, because he couldn’t really say why he’d done it. The threat was gone. It just felt right to finally try to live. Although his life would never be normal, he wanted to at least see what that felt like. His time with you showed him that he did want the comfort of a home.

For as long as he could remember he was unattached. It was necessary considering what he was fighting for. He wasn’t sure what had really changed his mind. Maybe it was almost dying. That did tend to have an effect on perspective.

“She’s a good friend.”

He didn’t say anything more than that, and Trubel didn’t press. She just continued with her work.

~

“Oh, honey where did your handsome little boyfriend go? Did you break up?”

You shook your head at your old neighbor.

“No Ms. Cardel. He wasn’t my boyfriend. He was just a friend staying with me for a while. He went back home to his family.”

“He was such a sweet young man, I’m going to miss him. Very easy on the eyes as well.”

She winked at you and you laughed, nodding as you waved her goodbye. Stepping into your apartment, you closed the door behind you, giggling. Meisner had told you of his encounters with the older woman.

At first he thought she was a spy, so he kept a close eye. Then he realized that she was just a bit nosy and he’d found himself helping with groceries and opening the door for her. Despite his scary face, he was a pretty nice guy.

The second you were inside, your eyes moved to the chair. The red cloak hanging on the side of your couch had you rolling your eyes.

“Stephen! Stop breaking into my place!”

The golden ring opened and he stepped inside the room, closing it upon entry. His cloak moved to his shoulder immediately and your frown deepened.

“Can’t you just knock or appear like a normal sibling?”

“There’s nothing normal about either of us. Where is the bodyguard?”

He looked around and you just turned your back.

“Meisner went back.”

There was a sorrow in your tone that he caught.

“You care about him.”

“Of course I do, he’s my friend.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

You hate when he does that, tries to read you. He knew how hard it was for you. Although you made a lot of friends with your gifts, saying goodbye has always been hard for you. Taking a seat on the couch, you finally really look at him.

“Do you..do you ever blame me for what happened to them?”

He didn’t need clarification. It was always obvious what you were referring to.

“It wasn’t your fault. Neither of us knew how to control our powers back then.”

“Yeah, well yours don’t make you blast people into other universes."

“Regardless, they would be proud of you. You’re helping people. You’ve always helped people. That’s who you are.”

Stephen might have no sense of personal space, but he always seemed to know what to say.

“Thanks Dr. Strange.”

This time he frowned.

“Don’t call me that. Who even came up with that name. It’s insulting. I’m not strange.”

“Well, you do have strange powers.”

He didn’t look very impressed at your joke. He moved to your side, giving your shoulder a shove.

“You’ve been trying to find him, haven’t you?”

With a slow nod, you looked down at your hands.

“He told me once that I should figure out how to control it. I’ve never really tried before now. I keep trying to do it. Picture that shop to make the jump but then I get scared and just give up. I don’t even know why. It’s not like I’m breaking a rule. I’ve been to dozens of places already. This should be a piece of cake.”

You hate that the only thing holding you back is your own fear. 

Stephen reached out, pulling you into a side hug.

“When it’s time, you’ll figure it out.”

You nod, placing your head on his shoulder.

“The next time you break into my place I’m gonna drop kick you. Trust me, Meisner taught me how.”

Stephen decided to just nod in compliance. He didn’t want to take that chance.

After the little heart to heart, you felt a bit better. 

The following night you’re seated on your bed, a pair of Meisner’s sweats and a t-shirt right before you. With your legs folded, you closed your eyes, trying to concentrate.

So far you haven't had much luck. You could feel him in a sense, but every attempt to reach out, you would pull back at the last minute. You needed to focus, tune in and hold on. It was the only way.

If you wanted to see him again, then you had to get rid of that fear.

Completely.

~

“I like the place.”

Trubel dropped on the couch kicking her feet up on the table with a grin. Meisner walked over with a tablet in one hand and his boots in the next.

“Any activity in the Netherlands?”

“Not as far as we know. Nick says Alexander has been cooperating with him. He’s rebuilding the Wesen council.”

Meisner nodded.

“We could use that to our advantage. Make sure Burkhardt keeps you in the loop about that.”

Trubel saluted.

“You got it boss.”

He took a seat by the table that was scattered with files. Trubel’s eyes just ran over the exterior. It was a two story house. Modest, casual. There weren’t a whole lot of family photos like what you would expect in any other home, but that wasn’t surprising. As far as she knew, all of his family was dead.

“You think you’ll ever see her again.”

He paused, but didn’t speak. The hope was one day you would just appear right in front of him, but even for him that seemed like a naive wish.

“I hope so.”

That’s all he could really say. Maybe Trubel realized it. How touchy the topic was. For the rest of the night, all other questions were strictly about progress in the organization. Something he was grateful for.

Trubel stuck around for a few more hours before she left. He couldn’t deny that he appreciated the company. It made the house feel less empty.

Hollow.

That’s a bit what he felt like when he climbed into bed.

Laying back, his eyes were trained on the ceiling.

“Do you have people back home? Family?”

He hesitated when you asked the question for obvious reasons. He wasn’t sure he could say family per se. HW was more like a unit that functioned for a purpose yet..Trubel, even Eve, to him, they were friends. People he wanted to protect.

“I do.”

You smiled at him when he said it.

“I’ll make sure you get back so you can see them again.”

You kept your promise. He was back with the only people that really meant anything to him. But he still felt a bit..empty. Seeing Adalind so happy with Burkhardt. Renard with his daughter, even Monroe and Rosalee. He couldn’t deny that he longed for it. That type of happiness. The kind that came with knowing there was someone there waiting for you. Someone that longed for his presence as more than just a soldier.

Closing his eyes, he exhaled. There was no use driving himself in circles thinking about it. Maybe sleep would provide him with more of those memories he shared with you. At least that would give him some piece of mind.

“OH SHIIIIIIIT!!”

The yell started him awake, and he flicked the light on, looking for the danger. He was sure that hadn’t just imagined that, but his room was empty. His eyes stayed focused on the ceiling, and when he saw the familiar star-shaped portal open, he barely had a chance to move before the body dropped right on top of him. 

The glow disappeared just as quickly as it showed up and you both groaned at the harsh collision. Your body rolled right off the bed from the bounce and he straightened, looking down in surprise and slight pain.

You jumped upright, and for a second he thought he imagined it, but you were standing right there.

“(Y/N)...?”

He couldn’t believe it. You didn’t give him a chance to ask how you figured out the jump, you tackled him this time and he fell back onto the bed. You were holding on tightly, and when he heard the sobs, his hands lowered slowly, wrapping around your body.

“I missed you..”

He could hear your soft sniffles and he tightened his hold, this time laughing happily. He couldn’t recall ever being so happy to see someone, or laughing this loudly. He only knew that he was grateful. 

[decks-writing-blog]

Defective

Summary: Beheaded thinks Collector's gift to them might be defective. It's not, they just have a stronger sense of touch now.

[A/N] Part 3 of my Indirectly a Hero series.

~

Upon attaining a new living body, Beheaded had assumed the cold wouldn’t be nearly as much of an issue anymore. The body produced its own heat now after all. Meaning it should be warmer in general but also their clothing should hold that heat in. But no, the cold actually felt worse now. The bite of it was a like a million little needles pricking their skin that grew worse the longer they were out in it, especially in their extremities.

That wasn’t the only thing either. Injuries hurt more too. Stuff like kicking through a wooden door left them almost limping due to how much the wooden shards digging into their foot hurt when they walked on it. Shoes fixed that problem right up until they got blisters on their feet from wearing them too long, making walking painful. Nothing they couldn’t handle, they’d spent their whole remembered existence up until the time loop was brought to its halt getting sliced and diced by various monstrosities. But it was still far worse than it should’ve been, meaning serious injuries would likely be worse as well, which would them harder to bear and keep going with. Clearly this ‘gift’ Collector had given them was defective.

As a test they brought it to a safe place and pulled themself out of it. They could do so with ease, nothing tried force them in even upon sliding all the way out through the hole in the back of the head. So perhaps this wasn’t the catch for the gift; a trap to make them uncomfortable.

They crawled back into it and headed off to find Collector. Or less find him and more head to his lab and wait for him to come back. He was most often with people working up on cleaning up the mess left by the Malaise. Too many people in one place was just uncomfortable to be around so Beheaded would rather avoid such scenarios.

So they snuck into Collector’s lab through the rear window, found a comfy place to sit on one of the tables and settled down to wait. They were in luck, it was only a couple hours before the door opened and Collector strode in.

“I haven’t seen you in a few days,” he said as he closed the door behind him. “How’s your new body holding up?”

Beheaded hopped off the table and lifted their hands to sign as they approached. Through experimentation they’d found and figured out how to manipulate the mouth and throat muscles to make sounds but still weren’t sure how to make the specific sounds in the right order to create speech. So their old form of communication would continue to have to do. “It’s defective.”

Collector raised an eyebrow. “Is it? How so?”

Beheaded explained the problems. “Even the physical sensations that aren’t pain are more intense than they should be.”

“I see. That however, I don’t believe to be a defect. Your old body was dead and rotting, its nerves weren’t fully intact. So your accustomed to physical sensations being numbed and dulled. It’s why you were able to run around even after being gutted without being incapacitated by pain. Your new body is alive though and thus feels things more fully. Which by comparison, is likely quite intense.”

“So this is how everything feels to you?”

“I can’t say for sure but probably it’s fairly similar.”

Beheaded lifted their hands, intending to to say something about how it was no wonder he was a killjoy sometimes with how bad even small injuries hurt him but well, it indeed wasn’t only bad sensations that were stronger. The warmth of petting Mushroom Boi and Owl had been quite nice. The ribbon on Mushroom Boi’s head had had a memorizing feel to it as well, only his stepping away had gotten Beheaded to stop touching it. And, they hadn’t eaten yet – they didn’t need to – but if physical touch sensation were more intense than perhaps so would taste? If so he needed to try it before getting this fixed.

“If it’s too much, I can try to numb your senses,” Collector said. “I’ll need it though, probably with you in it at least occasionally to test.”

That’s what they’d come here for. But knowing this was how it was supposed to be for living beings changed some things. Having it be numbed might still ultimately be better but perhaps the good things feeling better would make it worth putting up with the bad things feelings worse. And experimenting in that regard would give them something to do other than sulk around the island. So…

“Maybe later. I have to test some stuff first.” Not waiting for a reply, they turned and went back through the window they’d come from.

[horce-divorce]

OK I found something delta 8 is actually good for. So, when I'm having a REAL bad MALS flare, it hurts to be hungry as much as it hurts to eat. Like, my stomach growling literally causes so much pain that it makes me panic as much as eating does.

weed is the thing that gives me an appetite. the ONLY thing. my body doesn't produce a natural appetite anymore, just nausea and pain, thus why I can't eat w/o an appetite stimulant (cannabis). the munchies literally keep me alive.

except for when I'm already flaring, like right now. I've barely been able to eat solid food for a week, and even liquids hurt. Even breathing hurts. I'm so nauseous I can't even sit upright. I'm dizzy, my head is fuzzy, and im in a constant state of presyncope.

If I smoke weed right now, I will actually get so hungry it'll be counterproductive. Because right now, I'm not feeling my hunger. My body is starving, but as long as I don't smoke, I don't feel that hunger, and the hunger pangs don't start.

As soon as I smoke, a week's worth of near-starvation is going to hit me all at once, and my stomach will he ROARING with hunger, and it will hurt so bad and make me so nauseous just to breathe that I won't be able to get up and eat; instead, i panic from the level of utterly relentless pain im in, my HR spikes and i get an adrenaline dump bc my POTS already flares when my MALS does, and then I crash and pass out. I know because that's what happened last night, and countless times before.

So I've been avoiding weed today because I'm so hungry that I'm terrified to feel it. Which means I get no relief for my other symptoms either. (I'm aware that it's counterproductive not to eat, MALS is infuriating.)

But the thing is, d8 doesn't make me munchie the way weed does, it's part of why I don't like it. But one thing d8 does better than weed is nausea control. It does almost nothing else. I do get some level of cbd effect from it, but I need a thc-type component with it or it doesn't work. Most of the time d8 just makes me Not Nauseous and nothing else. There's like a smidgen of pain relief but not much.

But today, I REALLY needed the nausea and cbd effects without getting "high" or hungry, (I don't get high anymore but know. The other effects besides nausea control) and the d8 is actually helping a lot. Its rather gentle compared to weed, which normally I hate, but today it's perfect. It's not making me hungry, which is actually making it possible for me to walk around and like, drink my milkshake without it making my nausea worse, because my stomach isn't going "HOLTFUCKIGJSHIYIMSYARVINGFEEDMENOOWOWWWWWWWWW" and then not being able to handle it/instantly barfing it back up when I do.

The downside is that both of them make me cough, which is also incredibly painful right now, and edibles don't work for me, so most of those are out. If I can suck on it/dissolve it in my mouth, I'll get something out of it, but even then it takes 100s of mgs to get me to the dose I need, and most edibles only come in 100-200mg packs because for a rec user thats several doses.

And that's all a moot point rn anyway because we can't go to the dispo lmfao. We need to be back in Michigan for so many reasons. When I have consistent access to weed these episodes happen much less frequently, bc I can more consistently keep myself on solid food. Not always, but much more consistently. Would also be great if we had a home and like, a safe and sanitary kitchen we could use for our needs but I guess that's asking too much

[flippedorbit]

I don’t want to fucking be here anymore I’m sick of putting up with everything and bottling up every single feeling and opinion I have and experience all to keep everyone else happy

[poopyballz28]

okay first actual post here we go

Some Baki characters when they catch a cold and you offer to take care of them

Baki

• He insists you don't take care of him. He doesn't wanna seem like a burden on you or possibly get you sick too.

• If you care for him regardless its such a new feeling for him. For almost his whole life he was forced to care for himself all alone but to actually have someone there to aid him back to health makes him feel warm inside.

• He'll probably just do a lot a sleeping all day. He seems like the type to just sleep in his futon until hes all better. He might wanna hold onto you like a body pillow.

• He'd want you to make him from homemade food and give it to him in bed like he would LOVE that. He'd ask for seconds too. He's a bit gluttonous, for your cooking especially.

Jack

• This guy does NOT catch colds. It's something that barely ever happens so when he does catch a one it's kind of a shocker.

• He handles the tiredness and pain like a champ, since he's definitely been through exponentially worse than just a little cold. He'll barely act any different. He'll most likely just be a little woozy and tired, but nothing that makes him any less powerful.

• If you figure out some miraculous way to have him stay home to take care of him, he may be a little irritated at first. He thinks it's useless to just stay in bed all day doing nothing especially when he knows that the cold doesn't affect his strength or performance whatsoever. He wants to go train as soon as possible.

• You'll have to cook him bunches of homemade food (which he probably very much enjoys) to satiate that huge appetite he has. You'll be in the kitchen a lot that day.

• Showing your genuine concern for him makes him feel really strange inside. Like his brother, he's always had to take care of himself and deal with his suffering all alone. But with you there helping and taking care of him, he can't help but feel just a little joyful about it deep down.

• In the long run though, he'll be very low key thankful he stayed home with you. He pushes away that attachment to you as much as he can but he very slightly realizes that he really does love being taken care of by you and hanging out with you. He wont be able to get your face out of his mind when he starts training again.

Kozue

• I feel like she'll be one of the only ones to take it easy when she knows shes sick.

• She'll be so weak and tired she'll wanna do nothing but lay in bed all day

• She loves when you take care of her and do sweet little things to make her feel better. It makes her so happy. She'll wanna kiss and hold you but she doesn't wanna get you sick too.

• I like to think shes a little more emotional and sensitive when she catches a cold, so she might be crying randomly in which she will be in need of some very cautious hugs.

• She'll probably binge watch anime all day and she'd love it if you'd watch some with her.

• I just imagine her with a wet towel on her head and a tub of ice cream watching Sailor Moon or Madoka Magica on her TV while just snuggled up in her sheets

• I see her in a super cute pair of pajamas too probably hello kitty print shorts and an oversized t shirt ohhhh my GAWD shes so cute

Katsumi

• You'll know he's sick immediately just by the way he looks and the way he's slugging around, but he'll say he can make it through it and it'll sweat out later at the dojo (it wont)

• Even if you push him to stay home, he'll be completely sure with you he's fine and can make it through the day as normal. He appreciates how much you want to help him though

• His students at the dojo will see how sick he looks and how hes kind of weak and under performing. They'll usher him to go home and get some rest, kind of forcing him out of his own dojo (they all really care for him 🙁) One of his students would probably help him get home safely too

• When hes sick he'll most likely be a little more touchier and kind of out of it. He'll try to pull you in and hug you with a stupid smile on his face. He'll be acting really silly most of the time.

• He gets really bored just sitting in bed all day. He wants so badly to just go teach or train but all he can do is sit in bed until he gets better. He'll get a little needy for your attention and will try to kiss or hug you a lot but you'll have to remind him you're not trying to get sick too.

• He'd think its sooo cute if you brought him some homemade food in bed. He'd probably tear up a bit like a doofus and smooch you out of happiness. Wont be too late till your sick as well.

Retsu

• He'll try to ignore it at first and train as usual, but eventually he'll know that its best if he takes a little bit of time off to get back to 100%

• He already knows how to care for himself quite well actually, he doesn't get sick often but he knows exactly what to do to get better as soon as possible (how to treat himself, what foods to eat, etc etc

• He'll probably sneak in some training while he's recovering though

• Colds don't particularly have him acting very different, but he'd definitely be a little tired and his words might slur just a bit. He feels like the type who catches a cold and sneezes all the time 😭

• He says you don't have to help him and he can care for himself, not wanting to burden you. But if you persist, he'll let you care for him. He'll be constantly thanking you for everything you do too.

• You do everything you possibly can for him, no matter how many times he says its not needed or he can do it by himself, you're always there to do something for him. He actually really likes it when you make food and bring it to him. He adores your cooking.

• He does get quite happy when you care for him like that though. It makes him feel a lot of joy knowing there's someone there to love and care for him. He never been cared for like that before.

• After everything he'll show a ton of appreciation towards you and how you nursed him back to health. If you ever happen to get sick he'll treat you just as well if not even better.

Katou

• He despises being sick, it just slows him down from all the crazy shit he wants to do and it puts him in a really bad mood.

• He'll probably try to ignore it and go on as usual unless you force him to stay home (which clearly wont be an easy task)

• If he decides to just take a sick day off, he doesn't want you helping him. He thinks its weak having to have another person care for him other then himself. Mind you, he'll already be in a shitty mood so try to care for him with upmost caution. He's very violent.

• I can see him attempting to do things by himself, angrily telling you that he's got it, then tripping or stumbling while getting up 😭

• If you persist enough, he'll eventually just give in and let you care for him. He'll be so intense and pissed though. But as time progresses he gets low key kinda happy having someone genuinely cares about him and his well-being. Just like most everyone on this list (strangely), the feeling of someone caring for him is new and special. He really wants you to take care of him forever. He wants that love and attention he hasn't had for so long. It'd be funny if he genuinely pretended to be sick even after his cold passes just so you can care for him more.

• He'll probably try to fuck with you and tease you for being like his little nurse, making him feel better and stuff but if you tease him back he'll just get kinda cranky again all like "Tch." little bitch i want to DO HIM sorry y'all i got a little crazy there

• These homosexual thoughts are taking over my life

Hector

• Assassins like him can't really take a day off for a puny little cold so even if he does realize he's sick, he'll go out anyway.

• He wont act very different, he'll probably just be a little weaker and tired, but he'll work around all of it as the day goes on. He wont let a little cold get in his way. In fact, it doesn't really slow him down much at all.

• If you force him to stay home and you take care of him, it feels all so different to him. It's bizarre that someone else is caring for HIM of all people in the world. He'll wonder, why him? He knows he's just a cold assassin killing for a living who does nothing but spill the blood of others, he knows this very well. So he genuinely wonders why it's him another human being cares about so deeply. He's very confused but very very deep inside, he's glad. He doesn't know he's glad but he truly is deep down.

• He'd eat the shit out of your cooking too. Your cooking makes him feel real warm and fuzzy inside so he'll probably eat a lot of what you make.

• He'll be quieter than usual just enjoying the silence with you. At the end of the day though, he'll thank you for everything. He'll blush and look off to side while saying it.

[clouds-rambles]

Hi there! Can i request xiao, childe,zhongli where reader gets injured bad one time that they go into like a comatose or something? And at the end they wake up, thank you!! 🤗

Hi bestie! And ask and ye shall sufficiently be fed. I kept rambling on these so I hope you don’t mind <3

Pairings; (Separate) Xiao, Childe, Zhongli x reader

Warning(s); hurt/comfort, cursing, slight wound description

Keep reading under the cut!

Xiao

You didn’t actually plan to take on the Oceanid but you were in the area and you knew a friend needed a cleansing heart or two so why not?

The why not is the fact that the dumb water birds were ripping the shit out of you

Sufficiently happy that the Oceanid has given you a lesson enough, they disappear, leaving you pretty much in a heaped, shivering, bloody pile.

The yaksha hears his name being spoken with such a level of hurt, Xiao is moving before you’re able to mutter his name a second time

Despite his quick speeds and quicker panic, he hears your voice slowly lose breath. And as much as he doesn’t want to he has started preparing himself for the worst.

Maybe it’s his fault for loving a fleeting mortal?

When he reaches you, you’re unconscious. But breathing. Laboured, likely due to some broken ribs, but breathing none the less. A less panicked and worried Xiao would chastise him for holding onto something that could disappear.

Xiao isn’t going to let you die, not on his hands.

He takes your limp body back to the Wangshu Inn and within the hour there’s 3 doctors all bandaging your body and making sure your stable

Comatose isn’t a word that Xiao has much experience with. But to him it manifests into the worst weeks of his life

Where he isn’t sat beside you, he’s pacing in your room. And when he isn’t doing that he’s throwing himself so deep in slaying demons and once the supply of demons ran dry he started clearing out random hilichurl camps

He knows that things are starting to get better when you start muttering random things in your sleep, and reacting to whatever books Xiao reads to you

Nobody at the Inn says anything outwardly about how unusually soft Xiao is, but everyone’s notices. If you were awake Xiao could imagine you teasing him about it and giving him a kiss

Four weeks almost to the day you wake up. Xiao is sat in his normal place beside you, book in his hand reading to you

“I like that book, its my favourite” you tell the yaksha who hasn’t noticed your waking. Your voice struggles to make words, like when you talk first thing in the morning.

Xiao jumps a little at your voice, he was so engrossed in the book and barely noticed your gaze. 

Grinning is an understatement, Xiao smiles so wide and out of character that you almost jest about Xiao being a doppelganger 

But the moment he hugs you, careful of your bindings, the jest fizzles away

“I almost lost you” he tells you his face sufficiently buried in your neck to try and hide the growing tears that he’s been pushing back through the weeks 

“You can’t get rid of me that easily cutie” you reassure the yaksha as you embrace him as tight as your bandaged body can

-

Childe

The two of you love to expend your energy with random friendly fights be it wrestling around the house or finding the highest plains and having a great all out battle. You both find its a great way to release stress too

“I was thinking about eating out for dinner” you tell Childe as you parry his arrow

“That sounds like an idea. Loser pays” Childe responds with a grin

The fight is great, and dare you say it you’re winning

Until, by no joke, the biggest gust of wind pushes you off of the cliff and sends you flying

It would be funny if you couldn’t feel your bones breaking as you fall

Childe dives off the cliff the as soon as he can attempting to catch you

He does. But he’s a little too late to catch you conscious. You feel like a limp bag of potatoes. Your heartbeat being the only thing that’s currently grounding him and keeping him from committing various crimes

He doesn’t have the time to overthink until you’re safe and laying in your shared room

The three days that you’re unconscious Childe spends almost every waking moment sat on a chair beside your bed, laying on the bed beside you and actively avoiding as much work as he physically can. Even to the point a fatui agent comes to the house and lectures him about how he mustn’t keep avoiding his obligations.

He leaves for half a day on the third day and sits beside you the moment he gets back. He’s lazily telling you about his boring half day of work after he finishes he drops his head onto the bead

“I guess I’ll have to buy dinner though” you tell Childe your hand petting his hair 

You’ve never seen Childe sit up so fast and bury his head into your chest where you continue to pet his hair 

“Though you might have to go and get it, my bones hurt” you jest 

“You fell off a fucking cliff [name] I’m sure your bones do more than hurt” he smiles kissing your nose

You smile at the man and embrace him again “I’m sure you caught me though”

“Without hesitation” he grins, Childes worry's and the days before overthinking flutter away for the time being

-

Zhongli

Being the adventurer spirit that you are going to the reaches of Liyue and you’ve made it your personal goal of exploring every crevice of the country

On your way back to the Harbour after a month and a half being away. Though on the final stretch of your journey a mitachurl decided that you were a personal punching bag and threw you across the road

  Though in much pain from the fall you some how managed to make it back home and into the arms of your spouse

“I’ve got a present fo-” you pass out mid sentence, obviously your adrenaline from the mitachurl had finally ran out

Zhongli takes your sudden excess of deadweight and quickly lays you down onto your shared bed and checks you for any wounds

He quickly finds a large bruise from the mitachurl earlier. Zhongli changes you into some comfortable clothing while you’re already half undressed under his concerned gaze

Despite his quick thinking and generally unfazed expression the archon feels a unsettling pit at the bottom of his stomach

Baizhu is inside the house within the half hour and within the hour he has a diagnosis. A coma with no end date. 

Being acquainted with comas but thanks to his previous lifetimes Zhongli has never been so close to someone with such an ailment

Another month and a half Zhongli finds himself away from his spouse. Although trying to keep his schedule as consistent as possible his morning walks are changed to sitting at the bedside and dinner time was often spent sat to the table that was in the bedroom, but now moved closer to your bedside

Although very used to being alone for extended periods of time thanks for your love of exploration, he has never felt so far away from you despite you being so close to him

When you awoke it was actually close to midnight. Your brain takes a few moments to catch up with the world. You take into account that you’re in bed, and notably, your spouse was not

You feel the distinct pain of the hit you had taken, although you note that it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as it did when you came home

You sit on the edge of your bed and stand, a little wobbly at first, and you move about your home looking for your absent spouse

That’s until you find him asleep in the spare bedroom. Why is he there? You don’t remember having an explosive argument or kicking out of bed.

You enter the room and touch your spouses arm and you call his name. He wakes with a start almost surprised

“You’re awake” he informs you which causes you to chuckle at him

“You’re going to have to catch me up my love” you stroke his hair after he sits up in bed and urges you to sit atop his lap

“In the morning my dear, just for a moment let me be in your presence”

“Anything for you my love” you smile at him before pausing��“Though I would love something to eat”

[shingia]

can i req suna,, akaashi and iwa (and anyone else u want!!) getting jelly abt the s/o hanging out with another guy and being touchy (like the playful smacking or smth) without knowing the guy was their brother? angst to fluff bc i want the ✨ pain ✨ if u dont wanna its fine too,,

thanks bby,, love ur works so much! stay safe and healthy 😫💗

✗ HQ BOYS GETTING JEALOUS OF A GUY WITHOUT KNOWING HE’S YOUR BROTHER ✗

me receiving a request : 🥰 the request including suna :🤩 tysmm bby stay safe and healthy tooo <3

-> suna, iwaizumi, akaashi

-> angst to fluff

-> reblogs help a lot <33

— SUNA

• he hadn’t asked many questions when you told him you couldn’t come over to his house in the afternoon. but now, as he was replaying your snapchat story for the sixth time, he really wished he did

• maybe if he had insisted on coming with you, you wouldn’t have let this guy - that he had never seen, for the record - act so touchy with you

• was it his fault for not making you feel special enough ? to the point that you preferred the company of other men rather than your own boyfriend’s ?

• just the thought of this was enough to make a few of his usually well-hidden insecurities bubble up - most of them due to what his friends always joked about « suna doesn’t care enough to be in a relationship, they’ll all run away after a week ! »

• so yes, suna was hurt, but you didn’t have to see that. your opinion on him was the only one he cared about, he didn’t want to tarnish it. well... your opinion and his little sister’s, who burst into his room as he was about to watch your story for the seventh time to tell him that « someone’s at the door ! »

• not feeling like getting out of bed, it took him a few minutes to drag his feet to the door before finally opening it. and of all the people he could have expected to see, you were the last of them

• « surprise ? » you smiled as you let yourself in, not noticing the surprised look on his face as you greeted him with a tight hug. « i felt bad for cancelling our afternoon together, so i asked my brother to drop me off »

• you weren’t even done talking that suna had already recognized the man in the car that was leaving his driveway. his embrace immediately softened, and a smile crept on his face as he felt all his doubts vanish in a second

• « nuh-uh, don’t take your jacket off beautiful, i’m taking you out », he told you, determined to spoil you in the way he regretted not doing sooner

• at his words, his sister almost magically appeared next to you, coat in hand and ready to go. « you weren’t planning on leaving without me, right ? » she flashed you a toothless grin, grabbing both your hand and his to drag you two outside

• suna shared a deadpanned look with you, « of course not... » you both said in unison as she was already leading the way to her favorite ice cream shop

— IWAIZUMI

• iwa’s trust in you was infinite. but something about the way this guy had his arm playfully wrapped around your shoulders didn’t sit right with him

• his practice had ran late and he was exhausted. but he had promised you he would pop over to the birthday party of your childhood best friend, knowing how much it mattered to you

• but your behavior looked an awful lot like an attempt at making him jealous... and it was working

• was it your way of letting him know that you two weren’t working anymore ? were you just too much of a coward to be clear about it ? he hated to think about you that way. and most of all, he cared about you too much to not step in

• « ok now you got my attention » he told you after pulling you to the side. « if you want to tell me something, go ahead, i’m listening »

• still trapped in the euphoria of the moment, you didn’t really understand how upset he was. but maybe it was for the best, because it allowed you to defuse the tension lightheartedly : « i can’t believe i forgot to introduce you ! » you let out as you dragged him back to where your brother was still standing

• his jaw still clenched, iwa couldn’t even bring himself to shake this stranger’s hand, as friendly as he looked. at least not until you spoke your next words : « he was actually telling me how excited he was to finally met his future brother-in-law ! »

• iwa’s lips slightly parted in confusion, you could almost hear the cogs turning in his head over the music. brother? well that explained a lot of things

• « h-hi, sorry i was... miles away » he apologized before finally shaking the hand your brother was holding out to him

• but once the surprise had passed, another word stuck with him : brother-in-law ? as in « my sibling speaks so highly of you that i’m willing to let you put a ring on their finger even though i have never met you yet » ?

• well, it was good to know that your brother agreed with the plans he’d had for you since day 1...

— AKAASHI

• it was not unusual for akaashi to think that maybe he was not good enough for you. but being actually jealous was a first for him

• he had promised himself to never be too overprotective of you. but the facts were here : it was 3am and the only thing keeping him up was this unknown feeling of pure jealousy

• if he had not been in such a hurry when he witnessed your lighthearted banter and playful fighting with this man in the afternoon, he would’ve come up to you. introduced himself. maybe asked a few questions. if

• suspecting that this unpleasant feeling would not go away unless he talked to you about it, akaashi found himself dialling your number in the middle of the night

• used to his thoughts polluting his mind at unpredictable hours of the day and the night, your ringer was always on. which is why you picked up after only two rings

• « hi angel, i’m sorry to wake you up, i just... » he started, the clarity of his tone letting you know that he had not slept a wink. feeling his hesitation, you were quick to reassure him « it’s ok keiji. what’s going on ? »

• « who were you with ? i mean- this afternoon ? i don’t think i’ve ever met that guy and i was just wondering if... maybe i should ? »

• sitting up straight on your bed, you felt a weight being lifted off your shoulders. if this was the only thing keeping him awake, he should be able to fall asleep in the following minutes. « i was with my brother. but i understand why you were confused, it’s a normal reaction so please don’t blame yourself for that, alright baby ? »

• the gasp you heard on the other end of the line made you chuckle. akaashi’s voice was much less tensed now : « well in that case, yeah i should probably meet him... if you’re ok with that »

• « i’m more than ok with that » you smiled, placing your phone down on your pillow « wanna stay on the phone for a bit ? »

• « that’d be nice », his voice sounded sleepy already, especially above the familiar sound of his covers being pulled up to his chin

— ATSUMU

• how could he put that in words ? he didn’t even know if he was allowed to be jealous because he knew how often you had to see him deal with his many fangirls

• and that was actually what bugged him the most : that he might have already made you feel as shitty as he was feeling now

• but atsumu wasn’t the type to sit down and seriously open up about his feelings. besides, it was much easier to look like a needy boyfriend rather than a vulnerable one

• so he resorted to what he was best at : physical touch as a way to get your attention

• sneaking up behind you, he didn’t give you any warning before wrapping both his arms around your waist and pressing his chest on your back so much that you almost had to bend over

• he really hoped you would be perceptive enough to understand that he wasn’t just being clingy, but in need of a lot of reassurance. and luckily, it was quick to come :

• « tsumu, let me introduce you my brother » you chuckled, understanding how and why he had been mistaken

• one hand still on your waist, he used the other to greet your brother. atsumu did not really seem fazed by the news. of course he was relieved to know that he had nothing to worry about, but this little experience had still been very eye-opening to him

• after your brother had left to give you two some privacy, tsumu’s grip on your waist tightened, but in a softer way

• « ‘m sorry if i ever made ya cry » he let out, completely out of the blue. you didn’t really understand the meaning of this, but it didn’t matter. your hand found its way to his cheek that you brushed lightly with one finger, admiring the how it was slowly turning red. « being jealous sucks... » he added.

• « it does », you approved, giving him a quick peck on the nose. « but there’s nothing and no one that you should worry about, i promise »

• a fond smile lit up his face. you looked sincere, and he really needed to hear that right now. quick as ever, his hands left your waist to come and rest on your cheeks. both holding each other’s faces, you stared at the other for a few seconds, wondering which one of you would give in to a kiss first

TAGLIST : @toworuu @catwithangerissues @miyumiya @livy384 @k0u-minamo2 @fullsundear @hsjvwq @kelsuuki @hiraeth-z @velvetvirgos @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner @47meow @japanesevenom @geektastic84 @noir-blanches-blog @idontlikeyourjob @seiri-ami @atiny-grl-with-luv @admiringlove @nachotrash @kellesvt @aintyourholy @Moonlaeli @catchmewiddershins @duhsies @devilgirlcrybabiey @crystal-lilac @ijustwantfreenetflix @mimaki @maitenight

[fereldanwench]

As I've been watching folks come forward with stories about bullying and gatekeeping in the Cyberpunk fandom, and watching other folks who are kind of on the sidelines (like me) chime in with their takes, I've been debating if there is any value to me speaking up outside of tags in reblogs from other folks.

To be honest, I'm still a little unsure if there is: I'm not directly involved in any of this, I feel like some of what I have to say has already been said, and I feel like I might be inserting myself into something I could more or less let pass by me. But I have a lot of friends who have been directly affected by this, and a common sentiment seems to be "Thank you for sharing. You're not alone."

So maybe my two cents can also help alleviate someone's pain or sense of isolation.

In spite of the current climate, I have actually found Cyberpunk on the whole to be one of the most chill fandoms I've ever been a part of. (Granted, weathering the Dragon Age fandom circa 2013-2015 might cloud my judgment a little here.) Although to be real: I'm also probably lucky that my blorbo of choice wasn't ~*claimed*~ by anyone, which has allowed me to create and vibe in peace.

But I will say when I "joined" last summer/fall, when I was basically a loner doing my thing, before I even knew most of my CP friends or any cliques or spilled tea, I got Bad Vibes™️ from certain parties pretty quickly. I generally prefer to give people the benefit of the doubt, sometimes at the expense of ignoring my gut instincts, but eventually, I felt like first impressions were accurate and I have maintained my distance.

I've participated in online fandom communities for over 20 years--While every fandom will have its unique flavor of drama, you eventually start to spot the troublemakers from a mile away. People who can't share their toys but still expect to be a part of a broader community, people who surround themselves with yes-men, people who crave validation to an unhealthy extent, people who insist their friends like and dislike the same community members they do, people who prey on other fans who are susceptible to manipulation, etc.

I felt relatively safe from all this behavior: I know what I like and what I'm about, I'm confident in my niche, and I met some really cool people I'm happy and honored to call my friends now. But I noticed over the past few months that almost every single one of them had a story about being wronged one way or another by this particular group. I also noticed that in spite of the hold this group seemed to have over fandom, a lot of people, directly affected or not, seemed to share a lot of the same concerns I had just weeks into the fandom. But everyone was afraid to say anything.

And I think to some extent, for good reason: callout posts and going public about ~*fandom drama*~ is a whole ass thing. They can often make things worse, they can often further divide a community, they almost always put the person doing the calling out under a microscope. Victims will have their valid concerns and legitimate experiences with harassment be dismissed as "clout chasing" or "just being jealous" while the perpetrators often just double-down on their behavior. It's scary and can feel futile to speak up and disrupt the status quo, even if the status quo sucks.

People will also be told "this should be handled privately." I do think a lot of things can and should be resolved privately, and I generally advocate this as a first step over going directly to callout posts. However, this requires both parties to have an investment in reaching some kind of reconciliation--I get the sense that this point has long passed. (Incidentally, it also requires being able to talk to someone privately, which can't be done if you block 80% of the community. It's pretty disingenuous of a person to say "this should have been handled privately" if they've removed that as an option.)

The exact goal of a callout post can also be muddied. Toxic in its own way, even. Yes, sometimes it is absolutely about trying to run people out of fandom. I can't honestly say I've never thought "this community would be better off without so-and-so." I have. I've probably said it, too. But at my core, I also genuinely believe in people having an opportunity to learn from their mistakes and be better. I don't think people who have been wronged need to stick around for that personal journey and I think a part of that journey might require taking a step back from a community, but I do understand the discomfort of witnessing (or experiencing) what feels like mass ostracization and retribution.

But in this particular situation, I think the greatest takeaway is that people who felt isolated are realizing they are not. The fact that so many people have come forward to share experiences that have been burdening them for months I think speaks volumes to the damage that has been done here. I also think trying to reduce this hurt and trauma to "clout chasing" or "being jealous" is not only reductive but perpetuates this harm.

And the last thing I'm going to say about this is really more criticism of CDPR than the fandom, but I feel it's still relevant since the two are rather entwined at this point.

Since witnessing the way David Gaider's behavior with fans contributed to a lot of wank in the Dragon Age fandom ten years ago, I have felt very strongly that it's important for the well-being of both parties to maintain a certain distance.

This isn't to say that they shouldn't interact at all or that there shouldn't any kind of community outreach--I have personally done some very cool things, like going to E3 (back when that was still a thing), as a result of an excellent community program from another franchise--But devs not on the community side (who are probably better equipped to handle things like the effects of parasocial relationships) can really run the risk of disrupting the already fragile ecosystem of a fandom, even with the best of intentions. I believe that has happened to an extent here as well, and I would just caution devs and fans alike about respecting the need for some boundaries.

I don't really have a clever little summation for this, so I'm just going to end with a screenshot of my Duolingo lesson for today being far too relevant because I honestly got a good laugh out of it:

[eliemo]

Heart of Ice

Summary: Virgil quickly realizes the light sides had some kind of unspoken rule about touch. Which would be fine, if it didn't just apply to him.

TWs: Brief panic attack, touch starvation and mentions of its affects, self esteem issues, angst with a happy ending

Taglist:  @the-blue-recluse @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess (let me know if you want to be added)

Virgil got it. Really, he did.

He was the villain for a long time, an unwanted nuisance everyone hated, and understandably so. He would never hold any hostility against them, not when he knew he deserved it.

Now...maybe he wasn’t a villain. Still a nuisance for sure, but a tolerated one. He’d been getting closer with the other sides, Patton’s smiles more frequent and genuine, Logan taking a real interest in what he had to say, and Roman’s annoyance quickly turning to fond affection.

So maybe they were friends. Or they were getting there at least. Virgil knew he cared about them more than they would ever care about him, but that was ok. He wasn’t outright despised and that was more than he’d ever dreamed of.

Sure, their affection could just be to keep him from ducking out again since they’d found out how easily he could ruin Thomas by leaving, but...but he hoped it was more than that.

It was a mix of conflicting emotions and desires, Virgil never quite able to understand if anything was genuine or not.

But they didn’t hate him. That was the important thing. It would be selfish to want anything more when he was so utterly unlikable, right?

He needed to get over himself. It didn’t matter.

It shouldn’t be bothering him this much. It was completely understandable that they didn’t want to touch him.

But did they have to act like he was some kind of disease?

They were all touchy feely people. Roman and Patton hugged countless times a day, and even Logan would absentmindedly clap their shoulders or squeeze their hands in passing.  

Virgil watched them lean up against each other, lace their fingers together, pat each other's back in greeting and praise. It all came so naturally to them, clearly some kind of unspoken language in their little family.

And Virgil wanted that. He wanted it so badly it hurt. His chest squeezed whenever he saw Patton squeeze Logan’s hand, the loneliness crushing when Roman would pick Patton up in a crushing but safe hug.

Virgil...couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been touched. He’d grazed a shoulder in passing once or twice over the years, and he and Princey had accidentally held hands for half a second during a video, but other than that he came up blank.

And he’d definitely never had a hug. He knew that for sure. No one had offered one because...because why would they? Who would want to hug Virgil?

It was amazing enough that they were willing to be in the same room with him. All three of them were trying so hard to be friendly in the last few weeks since he’d told them his name and...it was incredible. It was like a dream.

But it was so unbearably obvious how careful they were not to touch him. Like he was something disgusting to be avoided. Like he would burn them, taint them beyond repair.

They would swerve out of his way when passing through a room to avoid brushing his shoulder, quickly pull their hands away if their fingers were about to brush his, carefully leaving as much empty space as possible if sitting beside him on the couch.

It went on for weeks, and it didn’t stop. No one commented on it, or bothered to avoid physical affection in front of him, and Virgil decided the best course of action was to try and ignore it.

If he brought it up, it would just turn into something awkward, and nothing would change. He’d rather just avoid the subject completely.

Virgil could handle that. He could ignore the ache in his chest and push down the thoughts of how desperately he just wanted a hug.

Everyone at least had the decency not to make it a big deal. It wasn’t a big deal.

Until...until it kind of was.

It had been a stressful few days for all of them, but obviously Virgil was taking the brunt of Thomas’s anxiety. They all knew that, and he appreciated how attentive and gentle they’d been with him lately.

Thomas was waiting on an important phone call, a confirmation that would give him a green light on his latest project they’d all been working non-stop on.

Virgil didn’t know the specific details of what they were waiting for, he’d lost himself to his panic immediately after hearing the words “important phone call” but he knew it was a yes or no answer, and that Thomas was incredibly anxious about it.

He and Patton were waiting in the mindscape’s kitchen, mugs of untouched hot chocolate sitting in front of them, Patton idly chatting to keep Virgil distracted.

And then Roman and Logan were suddenly rising up- the Prince with a dazzling grin on his face and Logan with a relieved sort of smile.

“He said yes!” Roman announced, and just like Virgil’s shoulders sagged, all the tension seeping out of his muscles. Thank god.

There were still more things to worry about now that the new project was actually underway. They would have to work out a new schedule, make sure they had enough time to perfect their scripts, and then of course there was the problem of nobody liking the finished product--

But that could wait. Right now...it was just nice to see everyone so happy.

Patton was already jumping up to give Roman a hug, reaching over to squeeze Logan’s hand, and Virgil quickly turned away before the ache in his chest, the feeling that longed for something similar could turn into the cold throbbing pain he occasionally grew familiar with.

He grabbed the mugs of now cooling hot chocolate to distract himself, smiling to himself as he tried to focus on the relief instead of the sorrow, and carried them over to the counter.

He set the mugs down, turned back around, and suddenly Patton was in front of him, pulling Virgil into the first hug he’d ever received in his life.

Virgil couldn’t breathe.

Patton was warm up against him, solid and comforting, arms wrapped around Virgil’s back like the softest thing in the world, and for just a second, for the first time, everything was perfect. Everything was ok, and the ache in his chest was gone.

It lasted less than two seconds, and suddenly Patton was pulling away like he’d actually been burned.

“I--”

Patton stopped whatever he’d been about to say, staring warily at a completely frozen, speechless Virgil. The warmth had seeped out of his body almost immediately, the ache returning with a vengeance, the want for touch even worse than before.

Logan and Roman were staring, eyes going from Patton to Virgil, tense and panicked like they were expecting some kind of violent reaction.

God, was touching him really that bad?

“I’m sorry,” Patton said quickly, glancing back at the others before turning back to Virgil, who quickly averted his gaze. “Sorry, Virge I wasn’t...I wasn’t thinking. I just got excited.”

“Right,” Virgil said, glad that at least his voice didn’t betray how it felt like his heart was crumbling. “I get it.”

“Virgil,” Patton said softly, and Virgil’s heart sank when he took a step back, putting even more space in between them. “I didn’t mean to, kiddo, I...it won’t happen again.”

Of course it wouldn’t. Virgil shouldn’t expect it to. They didn’t even want to brush shoulders with him, so why the hell would anyone ever hug him voluntarily?

“I know,” he said, already moving towards the doorway, grimacing when the others stepped away to give him extra space. He couldn’t help but feel a little bitter at how obvious all of it was. Come on, it wasn’t like he was infected. “It’s whatever.”

He stalked out of the kitchen, for the first time allowing himself to feel angry over this whole stupid thing. After weeks of tirelessly working to be better, after being accepted in every other way, they still wouldn’t…

He’d thought he was getting better. They’d called him family.

“Virgil?” Logan called, but Virgil ignored him, really not in the mood for any half-hearted excuses or lectures on why he should just be happy with what he got.

It was selfish to ask for more. He was greedy and awful and he would never really be one of them. He should know that by now and stop filling his head with fantasies that they might actually love him as much as they loved each other.

Virgil didn’t bother looking back to see if any of them looked even a little bit guilty. He pulled up his hood, hurried up the stairs, and locked himself in his room. It was probably where they wanted him, anyway.

Virgil collapsed at the end of his bed, head in his hands, well aware it probably looked like he was throwing a tantrum. They all probably hated him even more now.

But...but could they really blame him for being frustrated? Yeah, he didn’t expect them to be entirely comfortable around him, definitely not as physical as they were with each other, but he was really trying.

They didn’t need to make him feel like some walking virus.

Well. He’d gotten a hug, at least. His first and last real hug. He thought he might do anything to have that feeling again.

But no one wanted to hug Anxiety. Patton had said so himself- never again.

When Virgil allowed himself to be coaxed out of his room for dinner a few hours later, he noted with some sense of relief that the others seemed determined to pretend the incident in the kitchen never happened.

Good. While it didn’t undo how humiliated and disgusting he felt, the sooner they all forgot about it the sooner Virgil could continue ignoring how badly it hurt.

He shouldn't be upset. He needed to calm down and get over himself before he started causing issues.

He did, however, wonder if it was just his imagination that Roman’s chair seemed farther away from him today.

“So...movie night tonight, right?” Patton asked suddenly, voice chipper as he set down his fork. “I think we could all use some relaxation.”

“A splendid idea!” Roman exclaimed, and Virgil managed not to flinch at the volume of his voice. “You’ll be joining us right, Marilyn Morose?”

Virgil startled when the attention suddenly turned to him, suspicion and hope waging war at the soft encouragement in Prince’s voice.

Was this...a guilt thing?

“I- I mean I guess,” he said. “Maybe. If you like, want me to.”

He’d always known they did movie nights at least once a week, all cuddled up together on the couch, but Virgil had never actually been invited to one until he revealed his name. He’d attended a couple of them now, and they were...nice. Even if he always ended up on the armchair.

“Of course we do!” Patton said. “We always do. You’re our family, kiddo!”

Well, they certainly had a funny way of showing that.

Virgil quickly backtracked, pushing away his own dark thoughts. That wasn’t fair to them. Aside from the lack of any physical touch, they had welcomed him almost completely. In every other way, he was treated like one of them.

Besides, he’d clearly done something to warrant the unspoken no-touching rule. It wasn’t their fault he was too stupid to figure out what it was.

“You are a large part of the reason Thomas succeeded today,” Logan added, and Virgil felt a bit breathless at the praise. “You stayed vigilant and cautious, and made sure there were no mistakes. I’m very grateful for your assistance.”

Virgil ducked his head, surprised when glancing at the other two showed only kind smiles and honest appreciation in their eyes. They were...actually being serious. He’d done something right.

“It...it wasn’t...I was just--”

“Doing your job,” Logan finished for him. “And doing it quite well, I might add. As you usually do.”

It wasn’t anywhere near as intense as the feeling Patton’s hug had brought, but...but it was close, warmth spreading over his chest. Virgil let himself relax, and offered a small smile in return.

“Ok,” he said, because he still was absolutely useless when it came to voicing his thoughts. “Thanks. Uh, you...you too.”

He might have missed it if he wasn’t always so attentive to people’s body language (sometimes overly so), but Logan’s hand was suddenly moving forward like he was going to pat Virgil on the arm.

It never made contact, of course. Logan caught himself in less than a second, the logical side sitting up ramrod straight and quickly pulling his hand back to his lap.

He offered an apologetic smile, Patton and Roman quickly clearing their throats and turning back to their dinner plates, and Virgil was forcibly reminded where he stood.

He’d done what he was supposed to do, keeping Thomas safe and helping him reach his goals, but that didn’t just magically change things.

Right. No touching. But he could survive off nothing but words of validation and verbal affirmation. That was just as good.

Except…

Except between the accidental hug and the rush of anticipation that came with Logan almost putting a hand over his own, Virgil had never felt the longing for any type of physical touch so strongly in his entire life.

He’d gotten used to having nothing, to being alone, just periodic glimpses of the warmth he would always be left out of. He’d adapted to it, learned to live with the cold ache in his chest, and moved on.

And now...

Now it kind of felt like he was dying. Like the cold loneliness was wrapping around him, all powerful and suffocating, his breaths coming faster and faster--

Patton stood to begin clearing the table, and Virgil was moving before he even really processed what he was doing.

“I got it,” he said. He was trembling slightly, and he was almost positive they could all hear it in his voice. “I can do the dishes. I’ll do them.”

It was a stupid, stupid thought that had crept into his brain, but right now- as desperate as it was- it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.

Patton blinked, tilting his head like a confused puppy. “I- well thank you, kiddo but that’s ok, I think I--”

“I can do it,” he insisted. “You can- You can go relax, I- I got it.”

That was what he needed to do, right? He couldn’t be left feeling this empty and cold all the time. He would never give up what he had with the others but being this close to them all the time had awoken something in him. Nobody ever touched him and he couldn’t keep going like this.

He’d done well today. He’d been good and Logan had almost, almost set aside whatever personal bias they all had to touch him. It had been so close.

So obviously...obviously he wasn’t good enough. Not quite. He was still just horrible enough that no one could bring themselves to close the distance between them.

But that was ok. He could do better. He could be better. And if that didn’t work, then...well, then verbal praise was the next best thing, right?

Unfortunately, he must look even worse than he felt because Roman was suddenly reaching for Virgil’s plate, pulling it out of his reach.

For a second, Virgil thought about reaching for it under the small flare of hope that their fingers might brush.

“I don’t believe that is the wisest idea,” Logan said. “You’re clearly agitated and distressed. I recommend you wait on the couch while we clean up tonight.”

Virgil shook his head, though logically he knew the dirty dishes would end up slipping right through his shaking fingers if he tried to clean up right now.

But he couldn’t take the thought of just sitting on the couch, a useless hindrance they would only grow to despise more and more.

“I- I want to help--”

“Virgil,” Logan said. “Ever since you began regularly eating meals with us, there have been exactly three times you have not helped with the clean up. Two of those were because Thomas summoned you, and the other was due to your fatigue after a recent panic attack.”

“But I--”

“You have had a long day,” the logical side continued. “You’re exhausted, and you need to sit down before you end up hurting yourself. Nobody is going to be angry if you take a break today, Virgil. Please accompany me to the living room.”

And Virgil knew there was no way to argue with any of that. Not when Roman and Patton were nodding encouragingly. Not when Logan was motioning for him to follow and he thought maybe, maybe he would put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder to guide him into the living room.

He didn’t.

They both ended up on the couch, Logan counting out familiar breathing exercises to keep Virgil from hyperventilating. He did his best to focus on calming down, eyes cast stubbornly down to the ground.

There was a good couple inches of space between them, enough that Logan wouldn’t accidentally bump into him if he moved his arm too fast. Of course.

“I assume what happened earlier today has made you jumpy,” Logan said after a few moments. “I assure you, Patton really is sorry. Hugging you was never his intention, sometimes the others can just get...over excited when it comes to physical affection. Patton can’t always control himself.”

Virgil bit his lip, forcibly biting back tears that threatened to rise because this was really not helping. He understood that no one ever planned on hugging him, he didn’t need it shoved in his face all the time.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I know.”

Despite everything, Virgil had actually managed to calm down a bit by the time the others joined them for movie night, Roman plopping down on the other side of Logan, Patton shuffling around to find the remote and set down popcorn bowls.

Virgil knew trying to leave would only invite more worried frowns and gentle questions he didn’t know how to answer (besides, he didn’t particularly like the thought of being all alone up in his room right now), so he just took a shaky breath and willed himself to stay calm, shoving everything aside for the moment.

And then Patton moved to sit down with the others, and visibly hesitated at the end of the couch.

There was plenty of room for one more person. It wouldn’t even be particularly cramped, not with the way Roman was already invading most of Logan’s space.

But, of course, it was just enclosed enough that it ran the risk of Patton’s leg brushing Virgil’s when he sat down.

Virgil stood up before Patton even had the chance to open his mouth and stalked over to the empty armchair, not bothering to hide his irritation. He might not blame them for it, but that didn’t mean he had to act happy about being so repulsive to everyone. 

“Aw, you don’t have to do that kiddo,” Patton said. “You can stay on the couch, I don’t mind.”

“It’s whatever,” he said, and it was like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over his head, the sudden distance separating Virgil from everyone else making him shudder, and his reply came out a lot more curt than he’d meant it to. “This is where you want me, right?”

Patton had lowered himself next to Logan and was peering at Virgil curiously, worried smile dropping to a slight frown. “You can sit wherever you want, kiddo. You know that.”

Virgil couldn’t stop the scoff that escaped. “Right. Just as long as it’s somewhere you won’t accidentally hug me again, right?”

The room was plunged into an uneasy silence. Great. He’d managed to make movie night awkward and the television hadn’t even been turned on yet.

“Kiddo, I--”

“It’s fine,” he said quickly, guilt coiling in his gut. “It’s...sorry. I didn’t- I know you didn’t mean to. Just...long day.”

“We’ve all had a long day,” Roman snapped, sitting up from where he’d been leaning against Logan, and Virgil inadvertently found himself wondering how that would feel. “There’s no need to be rude to Patton, Negative Nancy.”

He was the one being rude? Him? After weeks of them treating Virgil like he was contagious and not even bothering to offer an explanation?

“Right,” he muttered. “I’m the asshole. Like always.”

“Virgil,” Logan spoke up, clearly caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone, and Virgil deflated. “We...understand your uneasiness. But between the three of us, physical contact has become something of a habit. We have been careful not to extend that to you, but habits take time to grow out of. And mistakes will be made.”

And Virgil...Virgil was pretty sure if he didn’t get out of this room right now he was going to burst into tears. They’d never actually talked about this before. He’d never heard them acknowledge that it wasn’t just his overactive imagination.

“I get that,” he said, voice painfully strained. “I do, I’m...I’m not trying to fight I just- just...do you guys have to be so obvious about it?”

Virgil risked a glance up, all three of them staring at him now with some form of hesitant uncertainty.

Logan cleared his throat and echoed Virgil’s request. “Obvious?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “You guys don’t...I don’t get why you’ve all decided touching me is somehow the worst fucking thing in the world. I know...I know you won't touch me and it’s not like I blame you- trust me, I’ve met myself- but...you could at least maybe try not to treat me like I’m carrying the goddamn plague!”

His outburst was met with silence, the other side’s expressions unreadable, and Virgil’s heart sank when he realized his vision was becoming quickly clouded with tears.

He quickly started to backtrack. “I mean, I’m...sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean to...it’s ok you guys. Really, it is. I get it, I’m...I’m Anxiety. Nobody wants...obviously you guys aren’t ever gonna--”

“Virgil,” Logan cut him off, and the logical side sounded...panicked? “I believe we may have had a very large misunderstanding. You...would you like us to engage in physical contact with you?”

Virgil hunched his shoulders, frantically blinking away tears. “I’m not...I’m not gonna make anyone...you don’t want to, and that’s fine. Really. I’m not mad, it’s ok.”

“Honey, no.” Patton sounded breathless when he spoke up, frantic. “That’s not it at all! We thought you didn’t want us touching you!”

Virgil froze, everything around him screeching to a stop, and for a moment he thought he must have misheard.

“I- you...what?” Why would they... how could they think that? He’d actually thought it was fairly obvious how badly he wanted it.

Roman stood up from the couch and crossed his arms. “Why on earth would we go out of our way to avoid touching you if it wasn’t to make you comfortable?”

Virgil blinked, suddenly completely lost. What the hell was going on? He’d thought they’d made their intentions pretty clear.

“I...why wouldn’t I want you guys to--?”

“Well, you certainly acted like it!” Roman snapped, and Virgil knew the Prince well enough by now to know he wasn’t angry, just stressed. “If you didn’t mind being touched, you wouldn’t act like we were trying to electrocute you every time we got too close!”

Patton reached up to put a hand on Roman’s arm, steadying him, but his gaze never left Virgil.

Virgil was starting to think this was all some kind of twisted dream his touch-starved mind had come up with, flipping everything around for the sole purpose of confusing him. This was...this was a joke, right? Some kind of excuse?

“What are you talking about?” he asked, ignoring how bad the tremble in his voice had gotten. “I didn’t...guys, it’s ok if you don’t want to touch me, I-I’m not gonna force you obviously, I just...never understood why it was a big deal. That’s all.”

Patton was shaking his head, hands moving to cover his mouth as Virgil spoke, and the moral side turned warily to Logan.

“Virgil,” Logan said. “We clearly could have...handled this differently. We’ve been purposely avoiding physical contact because based on your body language, we... I concluded that it made you uncomfortable.”

“It wasn't just you, Specs,” Roman said, his voice softer than when he’d been talking to Virgil. “We all clearly misunderstood. I- I still don’t quite...understand.”

The room was spinning, and Virgil did his best to blink away the dizziness washing over him, furiously wiping away a few stray tears that made their escape. He hoped no one noticed.

“I thought you just...didn’t want to. Because it’s...you know. Me.”

“Oh, kiddo.”

“What did I do?” he asked, suddenly terrified as to how he could have misread the situation so horribly for so long. “To...to make you guys think that?”

Logan blinked, his brow furrowing as he scrutinized Virgil from behind his glasses, and all three of them looked oddly confused by the question.

“I...Virgil, it’s been fairly easy to pick up on for some time now. Even before we learned your name.”

Patton frowned, taking a small step forward. “You got...really tense whenever someone would go to touch you, kiddo. Like you thought it was gonna hurt.”

“Earlier on, one of us moving like we planned on touching you would result in a flinch,” Logan added. “Later, as we got closer, we noticed you going very still. Like you were afraid. It wasn’t hard to avoid touching you before learning your name, but now…”

“We had to be more careful,” Roman jumped in. “Clearly that...wasn’t what you wanted.”

God Virgil was so stupid. This whole time he’d thought...for once he hadn’t even done anything wrong. And now all he’d managed to do was make everyone stressed and confused. He’d fucked everything up without even realizing.

They’d...they’d tried to touch him before? Before even learning his name? If he’d just been normal he could have avoided years of that cold, longing feeling settling in his chest?

He wondered if things would change now. Probably not, Virgil reasoned with himself, his throat tightening at the thought. He blew it. They’d just be upset with him now.

“I am...I am so sorry,” Logan said, and Virgil was having a difficult time following what was being said. “After getting to know you and your behavior patterns, I had concluded that your aversion to touch stemmed from sensory issues that can often relate to anxiety. Clearly, I should have asked you for confirmation.”

Logan sounded genuinely guilty, while Roman and Patton were looking at him softly. It wasn’t a big deal. He’d been wrong. They didn’t hate him, he’d just stupidly misunderstood their intentions.

But it was all cleared up now. It didn’t matter. He could suck it up and move on, just as long as he could keep the annoyingly persistent tears at bay for a little bit longer.

“It’s ok,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut and hunching over himself when his breath caught in his throat. “It’s...i-it’s fine.”

God, he was so pathetic. He was pathetic. Why would anyone ever want to touch him?

“Obviously it’s not, sweetie.” Patton was suddenly in front of him, kneeling in front of the armchair. “We didn’t mean to hurt you, Virge, but it’s ok to be upset with us.”

Virgil shook his head, voice refusing to cooperate with his racing mind. He quickly wiped at the fresh tears, refusing to fall apart over something so stupid.

The next moment happened in a frantic blur, but everything clicked into place when it was over.

Patton carefully reached forward, moving to rest his hand on the anxious side’s knee, and Virgil’s heart squeezed in desperation and hope for the gentle, grounding touch he’d never been able to experience before.

His body ended up reacting differently, completely against his will. He tensed up completely, wide eyes locking onto Patton’s hand, his breathing stopping completely.

Patton noticed, of course. His face fell at the reaction, and he quickly pulled his hand away.

Oh. Virgil supposed it did look like he was scared rather than desperate. “S-sorry. I--”

“Don’t be sorry, kiddo,” Patton said, but he sounded hesitant. Disappointed. “It just...seems like you’re uncomfortable.”

“It’s...it’s not that,” Virgil managed. His voice was horribly unsteady, but he needed them all to understand that it wasn’t them- he was just too useless to control his own reactions. “I didn’t even realize I...I just have never had it before so I don’t...I don’t know how to--”

“Wait a second,” Roman said, Virgil quickly snapping his mouth shut. “What do you mean you’ve never had it?”

They were all staring at him, probably baffled and annoyed by his inconsistent rambling, and Virgil curled tighter in on himself, his cheeks burning.

“I...I’ve never, uhm…” He suddenly didn’t want to say it, all too aware of how little it mattered. This conversation should have been over a long time ago. “I’ve never been...you know. I-I’ve never...done it.”

Great, now it just sounded like he was speaking nonsense. But the others seemed to have some idea of what he was talking about, judging by the looks they were suddenly throwing each other. Roman was the only one who eventually spoke up.

“You- are you just talking about touch?” The Prince demanded, and Virgil shrank back. “Virgil, you’ve never been touched? At all?”

Virgil shrugged, dropping his gaze to his lap. “I mean, yeah. Not...not really. Other than, um, other than Patton hugging me today.”

But he’d seen Patton hug the others, and he knew what he’d gotten could barely count as one. Not that he had any right to complain. He’d be lucky if they didn’t shun him for the rest of his life after today.

“I’m sorry,” he said when the silence stretched on far too long to mean anything good. “I know, guys. I know it isn’t a big deal, I’m really really sorry for making it one, I just--”

“Virgil.” Patton’s voice came out more choked, more anguished than Virgil had expected, and then…

And then there was a hand on his face, cupping his cheek and brushing away the falling tears, and Virgil couldn’t breathe in the best way possible.

Patton’s hand was warm, enough to startle Virgil out of his spiraling panic for the moment, but his breath still hitched when he met the moral side’s watering gaze.

“Virgil,” he said again. “Is it alright if I hug you?”

Virgil blinked, still partly convinced this was a dream, heart racing in his chest. He couldn’t find his voice, eyes glued to Patton’s, but he managed a tiny nod.

It all happened so fast- suddenly Patton’s hands were wrapped around his own, pulling him off the chair and onto wobbling legs, and then he was being pulled forward...

Oh. Oh.

He fell against Patton’s chest, his head resting in the crook of the moral side’s neck, Virgil’s legs threatening to give out beneath him when Patton wrapped his arms around him and held on tight.

Virgil was sobbing before Patton even started rubbing circles on his back, rocking them both gently, hushing him softly.

He had no idea if he was doing this right, practically limp in Patton’s hold. His arms were just uselessly hanging there, hands wracked with violent tremors. But even if he did know what to do, he doubted he could force his body to move right now, only able to melt into the embrace as the living room filled with his miserable sobbing.

“Oh baby, it’s ok.” Patton was talking softly, his breath warm against Virgil’s ear, and he finally forced his hands to move up and clutch the other side’s shirt. “It’s ok, you’re ok. I’ve got you. We’ve all got you now. You’re alright.”

There was another hand cupping the back of his head, running fingers through his hair, and he caught a glimpse of Logan pressing up against them both. The movements of his fingers were slow and precise, burning Virgil’s freezing skin like the most pleasant fire, his words of reassurances lost to the sound of desperate cries.

And then Roman was there too, briefly meeting Virgil’s eyes with a sad but hopeful smile, suddenly moving around to join in and hug Virgil from behind.

He quickly realized that this, as overwhelming as it was for his first time, was the single best feeling in the entire world. He was certain that he would crash to the ground in a trembling heap if the others weren’t supporting his weight.

Virgil had never felt so warm. The brief hug in the kitchen had been nothing compared to this. He couldn’t stop shaking despite it, overwhelmed and so, so relieved, wanting nothing more than to melt into the embrace and never let go. He could stay here forever, wrapped up in safety and warmth, the rest of the cold, lonely world forgotten.

But eventually he cried himself out, sobs dying down to hiccuping gasps as he fought to get a hold of his breathing. Patton and Roman loosened their grip, Logan’s fingers slowing, but none of them pulled away just yet.

Virgil took in a shuddering breath. “I’m s- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Patton said. “You don’t need to be sorry for a thing, kiddo.”

He clutched Patton’s shirt tighter, sucking in a breath when Roman moved to put a hand over his fist. “I- I thought y-you...you all--”

“We should have asked,” Patton said, pulling back enough to see Virgil’s face. “We should have realized you were hurting, honey. That’s our fault.”

“Not yours, Virge,” Roman agreed, leaning forward slightly to press his forehead against Virgil’s temple. “I can’t even imagine how isolated we must have made you feel. But that’s over now. We can fix this. We will fix this.”

“I do want to offer my sincere apologies,” Logan said. “We had all misread the behavior, but I was the one who enforced it after learning your name. I should never have jumped to conclusions so quickly.”

Virgil tried to shrug, but it quickly proved to be impossible with how tightly he was pressed against the others. He didn’t mind at all.

He wasn’t ready to let go yet, despite the way his stomach twisted at the guilt Logan didn’t deserve to be feeling, a dark part of his mind whispering that once he pulled away, the warmth would never come back.

“It’s ok,” he said, voice still raw and hoarse. “It was just a s-stupid misunderstanding, right? I shouldn’t have gotten so worked up, I- I know it’s not a big deal. It’s just a hug.”

It was a lie and they all knew it. Silly as it was, it meant the world to him. He would do just about anything to make this feeling last forever.

“Virgil, no.”

Patton was moving away, and Virgil felt a rush of blinding panic before Logan suddenly took his place, holding Virgil’s face in his hands, eyes wide and intense. Patton didn’t go far, his hand moving to clutch Virgil’s arm, and Roman only tightened his hold.

“It is not stupid, Virgil,” Logan said, tilting Virgil's chin up. “Not at all. I can assure you, it was far from an overreaction.”

“Logan--”

“Physical touch is essential for one’s mental health. Especially for those who experience heightened anxiety. I should have known... depriving you of any physical contact your entire life has left you incredibly touch starved, likely only worsening any symptoms you would naturally experience.”

Usually, Virgil found it fascinating listening to Logan, the way he so naturally took on a teaching position, spouting off information like he was reading from an invisible book.

Now, the dread and panic were clawing at his throat, and Virgil swallowed, forcing himself to speak. “Am I...am I hurting Thomas?”

The terror was overwhelming, doing all it could to convince him that the others would hate him, that Thomas would want him gone for good. But it didn’t last long, Logan shaking his head with an unbearably gentle expression.

“I am not talking about Thomas’s mental state.” He reached forward to brush away some of Virgil’s hair, looking oddly relieved when Virgil leaned into the touch. “I’m talking about yours.”

“Oh.”

Roman finally dropped his arms, but just like Patton he didn’t go anywhere, his chest still brushing Virgil’s back while he reached for one of his hands. Patton took his other one, both running gentle patterns over his knuckles with their thumbs.

Virgil felt like he was going to melt right here and now. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Since it seems you're comfortable with touch,” Logan said, and Virgil almost wanted to laugh. He was a little bit more than comfortable. “I’m hopeful we can undo any damage that has been caused. Tonight is already a good start.”

And that...that sounded amazing. It sounded more than amazing. It was all he’d wanted this whole time, years of bitter, icy cold loneliness already paling in comparison to the warmth and love he’d felt in the last ten minutes.

But...

“I...thank you. Thank you so much, but...I-I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t--”

“Kiddo,” Patton said. “Do you know how many times I’ve had to stop myself from hugging you?”

“All of us,” Roman added. “I’ve lost track of how many close calls I’ve had. I thought it was good you didn’t seem to notice how badly I wanted to, but...apparently not. But we love you, Virge. We love you so much.”

“We do!” Patton squeezed his hand. “We really, really do. You’re not forcing us into anything, kiddo. You’re family.”

Virgil kind of wanted to pinch himself to make absolutely sure this wasn’t a dream. But there was absolutely no way he could make up something this good.

“Ok,” he said, still wincing at how weak his voice sounded. “That’s...that’s good because I...I don’t think I could go back. Uh, to how it was. After...after all this. I-if this was just a one time thing, I don’t know what I’d do. And I know that’s dumb, this is literally my fault, but--”

“None of that,” Logan said, firm but not unkind, and Virgil fell silent. “This is far from a one time thing. I believe you’ll start having a hard time getting away from the hugs now.”

Virgil laughed, not really caring when it came out as more of a strangled sob. “I think I’m ok with that.”

“It’s still early,” Patton said. “You kiddos think we should take this to the couch? We can still watch some movies if you’re up to it, Virgil.”

As soon as he nodded, Virgil felt arms wrap around him again, one under his knees and one behind his back, lifting him up from the ground.

“Princey!” He wrapped his arms around Roman’s shoulders by instinct and froze, suddenly terrified he would be yelled at. But, he reminded himself, Roman was literally holding Virgil in his arms. Nobody found Virgil repulsive. “I can walk, dork.”

Roman grinned down at him, taking them both back towards the couch. Virgil found he really didn’t mind being carried when it ended up with him put down in the middle of the couch, still curled up in Prince’s hold with his head against Roman’s chest.

The others joined soon after, Patton grabbing the popcorn and sitting on Roman’s other side with his legs propped up on Virgil’s lap. Logan sat directly next to Virgil, his hand squeezing the anxious side’s shoulder before dropping his head to rest on Virgil’s shoulder.

Virgil shuddered, tensing against his will at the rush of sensations, but no one pulled away when he didn’t quite know how to reciprocate.

“Just relax now,” Roman said softly, pressing a kiss to Virgil’s hair while Patton got the movie started. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Virgil wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, only vaguely aware of himself drifting in and out of consciousness, still held safely by the others on the couch, an old familiar Disney movie playing in the background.

He thought his position might have been changed, but he still felt the rise and fall of Roman’s chest beneath his head, someone’s hand running gently through his hair.

For the first time, he felt safe upon waking up and let himself keep his eyes shut, breathing deeply.

“Is he asleep?” he heard Patton ask, the hand in his hair slowing for just a moment. “He really wore himself out today.”

“Indeed,” Logan agreed from somewhere nearby. “Not to mention a common side effect of touch starvation is difficulty sleeping, nightmares, stress, a lower sense of self worth, dep--”

“But he’ll be ok now,” Patton said, thankfully cutting off Logan’s worryingly accurate description. “He’s got us, and he’s my kiddo. He never has to feel that way again.”

“It will take some time. And eventually we will have to have a talk about consent and boundaries- I don’t ever want him feeling overwhelmed. But you are accurate, Patton. He has us now. He will be alright.”

Virgil had to force himself not to smile, not quite ready for this to end for the night. He knew eventually he’d have to head back to his room, but the thought of being alone again, even just for the night, was--

“I don’t want him to wake up alone,” Roman whispered, like he could read Virgil’s mind. “Is it alright if we stay here tonight?”

“Of course, kiddo.”

“I am perfectly comfortable where I am.”

True to their word, none of them seemed inclined to leave the comfort of the couch, the movie’s volume eventually turned down to a faded hum.

Virgil sighed, relaxed and content, letting himself smile as he fell back into the first truly restful sleep he’d had in a long time, followed closely by warmth and love.

[kieraelieson]

No Rest for the Deathworlders

Logan had always loved the stars.

Still did, though his love had been dampened by the way in which he was currently seeing them.

He watched out the window, or rather, screen, but it was made to show the outside of the ship, and thinking of it as a window was oddly comforting. A bit of something close to home.

A lump grew in his throat at the thought of home, pressing against the collar. He forced himself back to a neutral, tugging the collar away from the front of his throat as far as it would go. A brief flicker of anger replaced the nostalgia. Anger at the collar, at his own inability to remove it, at the monsters that had forced it onto him, at his own complacency now that it was on.

He didn’t have it as bad as some other humans did, he was well aware. All the collar did was teleport him to the location of the person holding the remote. Granted, it was unpleasant and incredibly disorienting, but nothing like the near-torture he’d heard was the more common method of keeping humans captive.

The captain of the ship was smart in choosing Logan, as far as the welfare of the ship went.

“You’re invested in your own survival,” He’d said through the translators. “If the ship goes down, you’ll go with it. If you sabotage the ship and try to escape on a pod, I can get you back to me immediately, and you’ll meet the same fate as you intended for us. It’s in your best interests to cooperate and to bond with the crew.”

Well, Logan could agree that it was in his best interests to cooperate. But no one could make him get attached to anyone. And no one could stop him from making little problems.

Like ignoring the insistent, “Human, where are you? Human!” that was coming from his communicator.

The window dissolved in front of him, and Logan felt abruptly as if he were on the world’s worst rollercoaster for several seconds. It took him a minute to register the angry captain now in front of him. He was yelling something, but not through the communicator, so Logan couldn’t understand what. And he was far too dizzy and almost nauseous to pay attention even if it was understandable.

He shook his head slowly from side to side and up and down once, hoping to clear the vertigo somewhat.

“You must come when called!” The communicator translated. “Or at least answer!”

Logan stubbornly remained silent, the dizziness gradually clearing.

For an alien that looked more like a slime monster than anything with a real face, the captain still managed to look extremely displeased. Not that Logan cared.

“There are ------ trailing our ship,” the captain said, one of his words not translating properly. “We need to go faster or we’ll get boarded.”

Ok, maybe Logan did care.

“Humans are supposed to be good at making ships go faster, fix it.”

Logan frowned. “I’ve been here three days,” he said into the communicator. “I hardly know how anything in the ship works, much less how to improve any of its functions!”

“I’ve studied humans, I know better than that, fix it.” The captain said shortly.

Logan opened his mouth to protest, but the room around him dissolved, the horrible spinning sensation back. His legs gave out and he dropped onto the floor in a different place.

He swallowed hard, his stomach threatening to upend itself.

“And they call you deathworlders,” someone scoffed. “A transporter has you on your knees.”

Beyond his sick feelings, and the anger at being mocked, he caught onto that plural reference. Was there another human on the ship?

In addition, there were apparently multiple remotes to the teleporter around his throat, which ruined his plan of trying to steal or fight the captain for the one.

He slowly sat up, his head still spinning. He hoped that his body would eventually grow accustomed to the teleportation and the dizziness would stop being so awful.

There was a chittering sound beside him that the translator didn’t attempt to process. He turned to see an alien that would likely be very tall if it wasn’t on all fours. It was very thin, with long arms and legs, which ended in smooth nubs, without hands or feet. The front two, which Logan thought of as arms, though the alien probably would have a different name for them, seemed to be perforated along the last six inches. As Logan watched, one of them was extended towards him slowly, and something softer could be seen on the inside. It was able to be extruded through the holes, and was likely the way in which the alien could grasp things.

He backed away from the limb before it could touch him, and the alien also backed away a step, making a low woody sounding whistle, like air blown over a jug. It’s head looked rather moth-like, with antenna that curled and straightened, and large eyes.

The alien seemed sentient, though Logan was confused that the translator wasn’t picking up on its speech.

Until he saw a very familiar collar, only around their waist. They were also captive then. And possibly, though it disappointed his hopes of meeting another human, they were the other deathworlder, also affected poorly by the teleportation.

The strange attempted touch then, could have potentially been intended as comfort or aid.

“You’ve been sitting long enough, get this ship to move faster,” the other alien in the room grumbled.

Logan glared. “How am I even supposed to do that?” He snapped. “I don’t have training or experience, I don’t know what half this stuff is and I can’t read your labels!”

“You can either fix it now, or we can teleport you between here and the captain until you do.” The alien's tone was disgusting and wet, and Logan was glad he could focus on the robot sound of the translator as his stomach lurched again.

He could try.

If nothing else, he might learn some new things and be able to convince them that he really wasn’t able to just do things he’d never tried before.

The room was smaller than he would’ve expected, presuming he was in a kind of engine room. Around the edges of the room were a number of bins, holding substances ranging from powders to liquids.

In the center of the room was a glass tube that went from floor to ceiling, and seemed to be filled with a glowing crystal stalagmite. From the top of the tube dripped some kind of liquid, and at the bottom it flowed out in small pipes, glowing the same as the crystal and possibly converted into fuel.

He could assume that with all of the powders and liquids that there was a chemical reaction causing the substance to obtain the glowing quality and become fuel. But what that was, and how to know what was safe to change about it, he had no idea.

“Well?” The alien, whom he now assumed to be what served as the ship’s engineer, asked.

He was making so many assumptions, and still was barely anywhere. They could all be wrong.

“Explain to me how it works,” Logan said. “Then I’ll try to ‘fix’ it.”

The alien made an unpleasant sound that the translator interpreted as a sigh. “This is a ——-, the liquid is a mixture of ——, ——, ——-, and ——, but it could be made with any of the ——— family instead of the ———, or you could replace the ———- with ——— for better efficiency at different energy levels. We also have several forms of ———-, which ought to make more potent fuel for higher speeds, but every time we’ve tried the ———- smokes and explodes and there’s residue in the tubing for several rotations which puts us at a standstill.”

Logan grimaced. He had a very small idea of what was being said based on gestures, but he’d much prefer to have names and details. It seemed this was a very large and dangerous version of chemistry experiments, with no textbook, and his only advice coming from someone who hadn’t studied.

Well, there was the other ‘deathworlder’ in the room. He could only hope they knew something about any of this. Though the difficulty in communication might make that knowledge impossible to access.

He turned towards them anyway. “Can you understand me at all?”

They made another low whistling sound, followed by chittering. One arm waved, with… could he call them fingers? gesturing towards Logan.

He hoped desperately that he could consider that to be a yes.

“What would you do in—“

The engineer’s communicator interrupted him. “We thought we’d have a few more rotations but they’re closing in, has the human done anything yet?”

“No,” the engineer said. “It’s just staring at everything.”

“Well get it to hurry!”

The other ‘deathworlder’ made a long series of noises, pointing at one bin in particular and then at a place where it seemed the not-yet-fuel liquid was.

It was a foolish thing. A very foolish thing. But Logan took a scoop from the bin and dumped the powder into the liquid.

It bubbled and fizzed on contact, sending up thick clouds of a dark blue smoke.

An alarm blared.

The ship lurched, knocking them all to the ground.

And then the new ingredient actually hit the crystal, and there was a loud, high pitched ringing.

Logan covered his ears and shut his eyes, feeling like a weight was pressing him to the floor.

Everything was spinning, and loud, and then it was loud in a very different, but no less painful way.

“Protect me!” The captain shrieked.

There was a pained, screeching scream.

Logan was shoved, but he was barely aware of which direction, let alone what he was supposed to do about any of it.

Something grabbed onto his shoulders, and he flailed, hitting and kicking indiscriminately. Something burned on his side, and he kicked into something much more solid, sending a throbbing pain up his leg.

Everything was noise and pain and lights and movement and he didn’t understand any of it!

Logan struck out blindly at anything that came near him.

He thought he’d backed into a wall, but something must’ve been behind him, and it hit him hard over the head. He dropped to the floor, tears swimming in his eyes and blurring everything even further.

Everything dissolved around him and he was falling, spinning, dropping, tossed.

He was grateful more than anything when unconsciousness took him.

•^*^••

He woke slowly, feeling hazy and heavy. It was quiet, and not too bright, nothing was touching him. So he didn’t bother to open his eyes, just laying still.

He wasn’t dead at least.

Probably the pirates had attacked. Definitely he’d ruined the ship he’d been on.

The question was, was being with pirates any better than living on a ruined ship with aliens that considered him to be some kind of hyper-intelligent slave?

Or perhaps the question was, where was he now?

He forced his eyes open.

He was in a relatively large, empty room. The floor and walls seemed bare, though patched, not all of a single material.

He pushed himself up. There was a loud skittering noise away from him, and he yelped, flinging himself away clumsily.

He turned, and saw the other deathworlder, front legs shaking and making a rattling noise. He wasn’t sure if it was a fear response, a method of communication, or even some kind of threat display.

“It’s alright,” he said quietly, backing up a little farther.

The other alien didn’t try to come close again, so he figured it was mostly likely not interested in threatening him. There wasn’t an echo of his words in an alien language though, and he patted his shoulder to discover that the translator had been taken. His hand went to his throat, disappointed to find that they’d left the collar.

It was still there on the other alien also. They were both still prisoners then, wherever they were.

Looking around, it seemed that they were in an empty cargo space, rather than a proper holding cell, so there was a slightly greater possibility of escape.

There was that low whistling sound again. Logan was certain it was meant as a form of communication.

He tried whistling back, as low as he was capable of.

The alien chittered and shook its legs again, but Logan couldn’t tell even if it was a positive or negative reaction.

“I… don’t know how to talk with you,” he said, keeping his tone low and calm. He sat in a comfortable, loose position, hoping to get across the calm in his tone and posture. “But I’d like to try. I’m not sure what anything you’re doing means, and it’s possible you’re in the same situation. I’m hoping that you have more knowledge of humans than I do of your kind, and that you’ll be able to make better inferences than I’m currently capable of.”

The alien cocked its head to the side, watching him as he spoke. It took a tentative step forward on its spindly legs, and then propped itself on three, holding the fourth out to him.

Logan eyed the appendage. The softer inside substance was filling the holes, making it appear to have small bumps, rather than holes. He held out a hand to it, but didn’t try to touch.

The alien bumped the end of its leg into Logan’s palm.

That seemed… good? Perhaps this was a greeting similar to a handshake?

Logan very gently grasped the end of the appendage, the softer inside substance feeling cool to the touch, and almost like a stiff putty, whereas the harder outer shell felt very smooth and rigid, similar to metal, but light.

The alien retracted their arm, and then looked between their arm and his hand. The inner substance reformed, pressing out from several holes into a clear attempt at fingers. It seemed to be fully controlled by the alien, and moveable, albeit much more slowly than Logan could move his own fingers.

“That’s very impressive,” Logan said.

The alien chittered back at him.

Perhaps they could get somewhere through a kind of charades.

•^*^••

“I think that’s all we can carry,” Roman said, looking over the wreckage.

“We can hold more, we aren’t full yet,” Remus protested, still sad that some of the ship’s inhabitants had taken the escape pods. Aside from the power crystal, which was far too unstable to take, they were the best value on the little ship.

“The whole 3rd cargo bay is empty for the two deathworlders, we’re full.” Roman insisted.

“Oh. Forgot about them. Well, if we can hold ‘em, they might be enough to make it worth it.”

“If we can refill,” Roman grumbled. “I was expecting usable power from this ship.”

It had really been a not-very-great raid. They’d lost Aide, and Bill, and Rahgezis, and hadn’t even gotten much of anything good out of it.

And the deathworlders were far too grumpy to join the crew. If they’d had enough room they would’ve separated them, but he just took away the translators and hoped they weren’t already pack-bonded, and wouldn’t become so. Two single deathworlders were bad enough, two together? Their ship would be a wreck from the inside out.

They needed to give them a rotation or two to calm down, try and have a talk, and then drop them off at the nearest Embassy and get away before bad things happened.

Maybe the Embassy would even pay them for handing over deathworlders. Or maybe they’d arrest them for being pirates.

But without Rahgezis, Remus didn’t want to attempt anything on the black market with such a high demand as deathworlders.

And the teleportation bands should make it a little easier on them. They were super old, and no one in their right mind would use them, except as a practical joke, or a way of keeping enemies too off balance to attack. The ones on the two of them had been fused closed, rather than the usual buckle, so he felt more safe trying to hold the deathworlders than he would otherwise.

They’d only found one remote, but Inshes was already working on making a second.

“I’m going to see if the Scraascik is on any registries,” Roman said. “And I’ll check for the Human, but that’s less likely.”

Remus nodded. “I’ll handle getting us moving again. If they’re awake, maybe you could see about dropping some food into the cargo bay.”

“Yeah, I’ll try.” Roman sighed.

Remus set a claw on Roman’s back. Roman grumbled, leaning into Remus’s side, and then went off to do his research.

It’d been a hard day for both of them.

•^*^••

They’d managed to exchange names… sort of. The alien’s name was two notes, whistled lower than Logan was capable of, and likewise there was no way of the alien being able to pronounce the word Logan.

But the alien made a deep, almost resonant sound, that was as close as it seemed they could get to anything involving vocal cords. And that was their version of Logan.

Logan considered the two note sound, and came up with a slightly similar-sounding name. Virgil.

Neither of their names for each other were really very similar to their actual names, but they were able to understand each other, and that was what mattered.

As it turned out, Virgil was stronger than he was at pushing things, or hitting, but they couldn’t pull with any strength.

Logan was focusing his attention on the door, and had been so far unsuccessful in prying it open. It was solidly locked, and the lock seemed to only be on the other side of the door. Which likely meant that this room was detachable from the rest of the ship, in case of emergency or danger.

“Virgil.” Logan said, and Virgil turned to look at him from the patch on the wall they’d been inspecting.

Logan hit the door with his palm, his arm straight, in an imitation of the way he’d seen Virgil hit some of the patches, trying to break them. “Hit here.” He pointed at Virgil, and then at a spot where he suspected the lock was.

Virgil made a chittering sound and shambled over.

Logan again mimicked the strike, and then pointed at Virgil.

Virgil got into position. They were able to balance on three legs and rock their whole body weight forward to strike that small point their arm hit with all their strength and weight together.

They tried three times, but the door held firm.

Logan was impressed that they did not seem hurt by the attempt. Their exoskeleton must be very strong indeed. Which was possibly a part of why they were considered a deathworlder.

Logan wondered what their home planet was like.

The door suddenly opened, an alien clearly holding up one of the remotes to the teleporters.

Virgil backed away, turning and running to the other end of the room.

The alien spoke into a small microphone, which translated. “I brought food. Don’t come near me.”

The alien’s body looked almost bear-like, but with longer legs, clearly bipedal. They were only about half the size of a bear though. The fur also was shorter and sparser, and a very reddish kind of brown. The hands looked more useful than a bear’s paws as well. The head though was very unlike a bear’s. Logan didn’t know what to compare it to.

The alien was wearing clothes, which Logan had learned was entirely optional to most aliens, in bright reds and goldish yellows.

Perhaps this meant that this particular alien was more… Logan hesitated to say civilized. He scarcely knew anything about aliens, and could hardly make such judgements about them. Still, he believed he had a bit more chance reasoning with this one.

“Let us out of here,” he said, grateful that the translator picked it up and interpreted it.

“No.”

“We will leave you alone, we will not harm the ship. Let us go,” Logan said calmly but firmly.

The alien again said no, pushing in a tray of what could be food into the room with their foot, already starting to close the door.

“Wait!” Logan said, stepping forward.

The alien jumped, and pushed the button on the remote.

It didn’t seem to affect Logan, but instead Virgil was teleported close to the door. Virgil stumbled, falling against the wall and letting out what could only be described as a scream.

The alien who had delivered food looked even more scared now, and quickly shut the door. Logan pushed through his shock and alarm to try to open the door before it could be locked, but he was too late.

Virgil slumped to the ground, scream fading to a whistling wheeze.

As bad as the teleportation felt to him, Logan was scared that Virgil was being injured by it. Perhaps on the inside, where they were softer. Or perhaps it put too much strain on their rigid exoskeleton.

Was there anything he could do? He didn’t have any idea about what Virgil could need for medical care, and he didn’t want an attempt at comfort to be construed as an attack, especially while Virgil was vulnerable.

He knelt close to Virgil, a bit farther than an arm's length.

“Virgil?”

Virgil’s eyes opened, and from this close Logan could see the differentiation between pupil and iris. Virgil’s eyes were moving back and forth, like Logan had seen before in children who’d been spun in circles. He was likely still extremely disoriented then.

Virgil lifted one arm and waved it around slowly. It knocked into Logan’s shoulder lightly, and Virgil kept tapping it against his shoulders and head. Logan allowed it without complaint, guessing that it was grounding to Virgil, being able to verify that Logan was in one place and not moving, not spinning.

Virgil gradually steadied, taking their arm back.

Logan wished he had a way to ask ‘are you ok?’, but he didn’t. The best he had was, “Virgil?”

The whistle-clack he got in return seemed more positive than negative, though he had no way of accurately judging alien tones.

“Logan.”

Logan nodded, as it seemed the correct response.

Virgil pointed towards the nearly-forgotten tray, and Logan went to get it. Virgil struggled to their feet, looking something like a very large baby deer first trying to stand. If Logan had to guess, Virgil’s kind didn’t frequently sit or lie down.

The tray had a number of small round roll-like things that Logan was now accustomed to seeing. They were similar to banana bread in texture, but the taste was salty and rather bitter. When he’d asked, he’d been told that they were the standard in rations as they kept for a long time, and held an array of nutrients that was sufficient for the basic needs of a majority of species.

He suspected that he would require some greens or fruit if he continued eating these primarily, but he hadn’t seen any anywhere, only these.

Virgil stood over him and leaned down as much as they seemed easily capable of, which still left their head several feet above the ground. Logan was just wondering if they would need assistance to eat when a very long tongue, or perhaps proboscis, unrolled from their mouth and curled around one of the rolls, pulling it up into their mouth.

“What do you eat natively?” Logan wondered aloud. “And do you need water?”

There was a pitcher of water and two small cups. Logan poured one cup full and held it out to Virgil.

Virgil seemed to still be chewing, however, and incapable of drinking while doing so. Or perhaps they didn’t require water. Though, now that Logan was watching, he didn’t believe they were chewing at all. Certainly there was no jaw movement. They could be massaging the food with their tongue, and have particularly effective saliva perhaps.

Logan started eating a roll, setting Virgil’s cup down and filling the other for himself.

A minute later Virgil’s tongue unrolled again and drained the cup, seemingly effective as a massive straw.

“You really are fascinating,” Logan said softly. “Were we not in such a situation I would love to learn more about you.”

Virgil responded with a series of clicks and whistles.

“As it is though, we probably ought to attempt an escape. They haven’t tried to get anything from us, which makes me think they intend on trafficking us further. Most likely they don’t have the power to force us into work like the last ship did, so I think, despite the danger, that this will be our best chance. Of course, the danger is greater for you, the teleportation seems to hurt you much more than it does me.” Logan thought for a while. “I think our best bet would be to try forcing our way out the door the next time it opens. Perhaps one of us could knock the remote away. It is enlightening to know that the remote only works on one of us at a time.”

Logan sighed. “Of course we don’t know when or if they’ll enter again. It’s possible we’ll be held here until we reach wherever we’re going.”

Virgil made a low, soft whistle.

Logan laid on his back. “I can’t even properly ask you for your partnership. It’s infuriating to not be able to succeed at anything I attempt. There’s such a wealth of knowledge that is necessary, and I have no idea of any of it. Nor a way of learning, save through painful experience. I can’t become complacent, I have to effect change, but I never know when my efforts will be simply overturned.”

Virgil nudged his arm with their own.

Logan turned to look at them. Virgil chittered at him, bobbing up and down on their legs.

“What is it?”

“Logan.” Virgil said, still bobbing up and down.

Logan sat up. “I don’t understand.”

Virgil tapped his legs with their arm. “Logan.”

Logan stood up. “Is this what you want? Oh. If you don’t lay down to sleep, you must’ve been concerned when I did. I’ll have to sleep sometime though, and surely you’ve been exposed to aliens that lay down to sleep.”

But rather than relaxing, as Logan would assume Virgil would do if they were concerned, Virgil stepped closer, almost over Logan. Their antenna tilted towards him.

“Oh I see, this would be how you would confirm that I’m healthy, by feeling with your antenna, yes?” Logan remained still, unsurprised when there was a soft touch on his head.

But he was not at all expecting the sudden mental image of himself tackling the alien who’d delivered the food. It was so vivid it was as if he was already doing it, seeing the door open, tackling the alien, smashing the remote, and running forward to climb onto Virgil’s back as Virgil ran them both through the hallway.

Logan jerked back, falling on his butt. “What was that?! You have telepathy??”

Virgil made a movement that could be best described as a shrug.

Logan stood up again, reaching his hand out, battling his speed from excitement in an attempt not to scare Virgil. “Can we do it again?”

Virgil brushed his hand with their antenna, and the same scene flashed before his mind’s eye.

“Yes, yes I’ll do that! Can you understand my answer?”

Virgil made a whistle that Logan was almost certain was affirmative.

Logan paced back and forth excitedly, thinking out loud. “So you can communicate with me even if I can’t communicate with you well. And you very much want my partnership in escaping. We have a plan now. And a form of communication. Virgil, this is amazing!”

Virgil made an almost trilling noise.

•^*^••

“No, it hurt the Scraascik,” Roman said, already changing the ship’s course. “We can’t hold them safely, we have to get to the Embassy.”

“We didn’t even ask them to join us yet!” Remus protested.

“Would you join a strange crew after they hurt you?” Roman retorted, sending a message to the engine room to increase speed.

“Well what about the other one?”

“Remus. It won’t work.” Roman glared at him. “I don’t want to take chances with deathworlders.”

Remus sighed. “Fine. But let me try talking to them before we get there.”

Roman’s face went hard. “You have until we arrive,” he finally conceded.

Remus hurried down to the cargo bay.

He burst the door open, and it slammed shut behind him. Both deathworlders jolted, staring at him.

He then realized that he’d entirely forgotten the remote and the duplicate, and also that he was locked in a room with two deathworlders.

Well, there was a reason people joked he was addicted to adrenaline.

“Hello!” He said, waving. “I’m wondering if you’ll join my crew.”

The human moved first, standing up to a height decently taller than Remus was. And the Scraascik was even larger.

Perhaps he really was in serious danger.

“We just want to leave,” the human said, sounding rather threatening.

Probably telling them about the plan to hand them over to the Embassy then wasn’t a good idea until he was sure that he wasn’t in attack distance anymore. “You can, leave with us. Join our crew and you can adventure with us, raid ships, explore planets!”

“We want to leave alone,” the human said firmly.

“We? So… you bonded then? I guess that rumor is true, deathworlders all really do bond super fast.”

The human bared its teeth at him. “I will not be bonding to your crew based on your desires. I will not remain here, I want to leave. We want to leave.”

The Scraascik agreed in some of the most heavily accented Common Remus had ever heard. No wonder the translators hadn’t picked up any of his yelling when they’d boarded the ship. He’d probably need a translator to touch his antenna, but good luck getting a Scraascik to let anything touch their antenna.

“So you won’t even consider it?” Remus asked, not yet daunted.

“You’ve essentially kidnapped us, and both can and have hurt us! Why would I consider it?”

Yikes, the human sounded angry.

“Well we didn’t mean to hurt you, really, it’s not meant to be that bad. And we only kidnapped you from other kidnappers, and also I can’t hurt you cause I forgot the remote.”

The two deathworlders looked at each other, and Remus knew he really had gone and shoved his whole fist in his mouth. The human shifted position to a much more threatening crouch, as if it was going to pounce on him.

Remus held his arms out, claws at the ready. He might not have a hope of winning against deathworlders, but he could certainly make himself a pain of a target.

“I know I’m a pirate, but this was supposed to be just a talk,” Remus said, wondering if he’d be able to hit the communicator in time and if rescue was possible. Violent deathworlders in an enclosed space was not something he wanted his crew walking into, even for a rescue.

“It’s not much of a talk when we don’t have a say,” the human said, looking more and more threatening every second.

Iaoth , he wanted this human on his crew.

“Of course you have a say!” Remus said. “Name it, what position do you want, what pay, days off, I’ll give you whatever room in the ship you want as your quarters.”

“I fundamentally disagree with joining people that would knowingly traffic other people,” the human growled.

And then it leapt forward.

Remus yelped, swiping at the human and hitting the communicator with his other hand. “Roman!”

He was tackled to the ground, and the Scraascik pinned one arm while the human sat on his middle and held his other arm down.

“Remus?!” Roman’s voice came through the communicator.

“Let us go,” the human growled. “Once we’re out we’ll let them go.”

There was a tremor to the floor that Remus recognized. Roman must have been overloading the engine, they’d arrived and were docking.

“Is Remus ok?” Roman asked, sounding terrified.

“I’m fine, just a little stuck,” Remus said, trying to not sound scared so Roman wouldn’t get even more worried. “Laying under a deathworlder~ not quite as fun as I always imagined.”

Roman made a sound somewhere between a sob and laugh. “I’m coming to let you out. Don’t hurt him. Please.”

Remus was honestly a bit surprised that he was only pinned. The human was leaking blood from its shoulder and across its chest where Remus’s swipe had connected, but it hadn’t retaliated.

“Hurry,” the human said coldly.

The communicator turned off, and Remus had a strong suspicion Roman was calling the Embassy to have guards outside the ship when the cargo hold was opened.

“You sure you don’t want to join us?” Remus asked. “I know it won’t look like it from your end, but we don’t traffic, we take from ships we attack, but we’d either let them join us or take them to the authorities, we don’t just continue the traffic. And we could use people like you, you could help us take down so many more ships.”

The Scraascik leaned harder on his arm, and Remus grimaced.

“What would the authorities do?” The human asked.

“Uhhhh… well with the Scraascik, probably drop him back on his own planet, or with a Scraascik colony. Your planet though is still restricted, so they’d probably keep you until it’s opened.”

The human’s face contorted into something that did not look good for Remus.

“We’re on our way there, aren’t we?”

Remus wasn’t sure he dared lie, not when he was pinned to the ground with two very angry-seeming deathworlders over him. “Yeah.”

The human hit the communicator. “Listen.”

“I’m listening,” Roman said warily.

“Don’t open the cargo hold,” the human ordered. “You’re a pirate ship. You have smaller ships for scavenging, yes?”

“…yes.”

“Give us one.”

There was a long pause from Roman.

“Put food and fuel and translators in it,” the human said firmly. “We’re taking this one with us until we’re safely inside.”

This was probably wrecking Roman’s plans. There would be authorities involved and now no deathworlders to give them.

“Alright,” Roman said.

•^*^••

The door to the cargo hold was opened. Logan had the bear-alien in a tight hold, and Virgil was above them, looking like they were ready to strike out at anything that got within range.

They managed to walk along the halls until they reached the smaller ship. Logan had no idea how he was going to fly it, but it was the biggest chance by far that he’d had yet.

He shoved the bear alien away and slammed the door shut.

Virgil went immediately to the pilot’s seat, and Logan was amazed to see that there were places in the ceiling that fit their antenna. Soon there was a fast and loud humming, and the tiny ship lurched into motion.

•^*^••

Patton was being sent, since they didn’t really believe that there could be a Human and a Scraascik on the cobbled-together ship that had docked. So it was just him and Janus.

Janus wrapped his long tail around the back of Patton’s neck for balance as Patton walked back and forth, waiting for the ship to open its cargo bay.

It sure was taking a long time. They’d seemed so rushed when they called, but now they just wouldn’t open.

And then there was an engine powering up.

A teeny little scavenging ship took off from the bigger one, flying off. Patton scanned it, alarmed to see that there was indeed a Scraascik and a Human signature on board.

“Hey! Hey wait!”

He pulled out his radio, quickly setting it to the bigger ship’s frequency. “Let me in and go after them! We can’t let a Human go flying around unattended!”

“If they don’t let us in fast, go take the SC Meteor,” Janus said.

Patton wasn’t too surprised when the ship started undocking without answering him.

“We’ll get them!” He yelled, running for the Meteor.