#I can’t take birth control I have few options

[trickstarbrave]

I have a specific kind of autism that upon getting a new ‘mild’ but extremely miserable health condition I decided “that’s fine I always wanted to learn herbalism anyways” and just decided to manage it myself

[explicit-tae]

when is the next part of ungodly hour please tell me 😫

right here! introudcing a request that a few people has been wanting to see

Ungodly Hour (8)

Fuck Chaeyoung and Jimin for always being able to figure out when something is wrong with you.

word count: 2.684

“Girl,” Chaeyong’s voice says over the phone. It echos off of the bathroom walls. She’s watching you as you violently brush your teeth and in the process of scrubbing your tongue, a look of disgust on your face. Your phone is leaning against one of the toothbrush holders and she appears visibly amused.  “maybe you’re pregnant.”

You choke, feeling yourself ready to vomit again - this time due to Chaeyoung’s words. Your eyes widen and you stare back at your phone for a moment. Spitting the toothpaste and rinsing your mouth, you turn off the water. 

“Don’t,” you say with gritted teeth. “start that shit again.”

Chaeyoung rolls her eyes. She’s in the process of making herself a sandwich. She shakes her head as she butters her bread. “You missed your period and you’re throwing up. What else can it be?” Chaeyoung was indeed correct. But, your periods were often irregular so that could never be a sign of pregnancy. You’ve gone two months without it before just for it to come on a random Wednesday work shift.

“I’m on birth control.”

“That’s never 100% effective.” Chaeyoung scoffs. “People get pregnant while on birth control all the time.”

Chaeyoung was right again and you could only sigh. You want to blame your sudden nausea on food poisoning. Maybe something you ate just didn’t sit right with you - that’s always a possibility. Maybe you were just getting sick as the seasons changed. Pregnancy would be the last of your options as anything could be possible.

“Let’s not forget that your boyfriend often has to remind you to take said birth control.”

“Shut up.” you grumble, snatching your phone and making your way out of the bathroom. You hated when Chaeyoung was right because it only meant that your mind would be wandering on the possibilities. 

“I can’t be pregnant now. That means I’ll have a Scorpio.” you murmur, crashing down against Jungkook’s bed, silk sheets inviting you in. “There’s enough birthdays in November as it is. It’ll completely ruin the vibe.”

“You should’ve thought about that before you were being a whore on Valentine’s day.” Chaeyoung sing-songs, her sandwich now complete and she munches onto it happily. “Can’t blame you. Jungkook did go all out like always.”

You’re positive you know just where it all began and like Chaeyoung said, Jungkook had to be the dramatic type that made you want to fuck him. The amount of roses you walked into had to be costly and you’re sure he must’ve bought out half of the store alone. The gifts, the home cooked meals along with the low music, champagne…

“Fuck Jeon Jungkook.” you grumble, throwing your phone beside you so Chaeyoung can see your view - the ceiling and she’s positive you were wallowing in self pity.

Truly, Fuck Jeon Jungkook and the way you can never seem to stay off of him.

It took a week for you to decide to get a pregnancy test that you were sure would be negative regardless. You weren’t going to let Chaeyoung’s words of despair get to you - and you were only taking this test to prove to her (and yourself) that you weren’t pregnant and that whatever is going on with you was just a mere sickness.

The brown paper bag sits on the bathroom counter and has been for hours now. Jungkook wasn’t the one to check what wasn’t his and you’re unsure why you’re hesitant on taking it.

It’s Sunday now and that meant that not only was Jungkook here, but so was Namjoon, Hoseok, Taehyung and Jimin. They gather in the living room, movie blasting throughout the space and you walk by without any of them batting an eye.

All except Jimin as he was the only one who ever wanted to humor you and this fake beef you two held for one another.

“Well, well…you finally decided to join us.” Jimin calls, eyes watching as you make your way towards the kitchen. 

“Fuck off, Jimin.”

Taehyung snorts, allowing a few chuckles to be released.

Jimin looks around, wondering why in the world you could possibly tell him to fuck off out of all people. Of course, he didn't because he was Jimin. This causes him to sit forward and tilt his head.

“You look different.” Jimin notes, eyes taking in your appearance. This causes Jungkook’s head to turn to see whatever it was that Jimin saw.

Jungkook’s eyes being on you causes goosebumps to litter your skin and you desperately want to tell Jimin to fuck off again, but that wouldn’t do any good.

“You look…healthy.” Jimin’s eyes begin to squint a bit, his head tilting to the other side.

“Healthy?” you snicker with a roll of your eyes. “What the fuck did I look before?”

“Ugh, Y/N, shut up.” Jimin stands, making his way around the couch and towards you. You can feel Jungkook’s eyes on you and his friend, but he remains silent. “You look…dare I say glowy.”

You click your tongue inside your mouth. Jimin’s tone is different, almost as if confused. His eyes study you closely.

“If I didn’t know you, Jimin, I would say you’re flirting with me.” you turn away and go towards the box of pizza on the counters. 

Jimin cackles. “As if I would go for anyone like you.” 

“That’s a lot coming from a man like you.” you bite back. “I know exactly what girls you like.”

Jimin swallows back his words, a soft tint to his cheeks. No one was ever going to let him live down what that bitch said. “I pay for Onlyfan’s once and suddenly I’m the one being laughed at.” he grumbles to himself.

“I actually like her. She humbles you and it’s exactly what you need.” you open a box of pizza - pepperoni. You grab at it and inhale, the smell reaches your nose and instantly you drop it right back into the box.

Jimin’s eyebrows furrow at your actions, watching you closely. His arms begin to cross and it’s as if alarm bells were going off in his head. 

“You little slut.” Jimin smirks.

Your stomach churns and you can feel the increase of saliva inside your mouth. You let out a shaky breath.

“You…that’s why you look so glowy. It’s too soon to look like this now…” Jimin speaks - mainly to himself. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

It happens entirely too fast and maybe this was just Jimin’s karma for annoying you constantly. You appear to be stuck, completely frozen in place, when you vomit entirely onto him. The man screeches and gags at the warm vomit hitting his chest. 

Jungkook is on his feet immediately, coming to your side. He places a hand onto your back, a look of concern on his face. “Y/N? Baby, are you okay?”

“What the fuck?!” Jimin hisses, eyes wide with disbelief. “I’m the one with stomach acid on me! Can someone ask if I’m okay?”

“This isn’t about you right now.” Jungkook waves him off. “Come, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“She…oh wow.” Jimin watches in disbelief as Jungkook ushers you away. His shirt sticks to him sickeningly. 

Hoseok is the first to laugh, shaking his head at Jimin. 

“What just happened?” Namjoon questions.

Now you feel like crying out of embarrassment as Jungkook brings you into the bathroom. “Do  you still need to throw up? Was it something you ate earlier?” he asks, his mind going on a thousand different possibilities on how you could be sick right now. 

“N-No, I’m fine.” you murmur, pushing yourself away from him and going to brush your teeth again. Your body is hot - mainly due to humiliation of having vomited on Jimin. You wouldn’t be this embarrassed if it was just Jimin there, because well, fuck him. But the other’s…

You groan, scrubbing the taste of vomit out of your mouth.

Jungkook watches closely. 

“You’re not fine. Are you sick?” he questions. “You probably need some medicine.”

Jungkook looks around the bathroom for a moment, his eyes dropping on the brown paper bag that’s folded in half. He looks at it for a moment. “Is this medicine you got earlier or-”

“No!”

It isn’t your intention to snatch the bag out of his hands the way you do. Jungkook is taken aback by your actions, eyes widening slightly. He takes a step back, apologetic about touching something that wasn’t his. 

“I-I mean-”

“It’s okay.” Jungkook shakes his head. He swallows. “I’m…going to clean up out there. I’ll be back.”

Jungkook leaves the bathroom and now you feel worse than before. You shut off the water and groan.

You don’t want Jungkook to think that him trying to help was a bad decision. The paper bag is crumbling in your grasp and it’s a sign that you can no longer put off the contents on what’s inside of it.

You were a grown woman and a little pregnancy test shouldn’t scare you. You’ve dealt with tougher scenarios and this was outside of your character. Your mother didn’t raise you to be a scared bitch.

So you took the test - ripping the bag open entirely and then the rectangular box. It happens all under a minute and you realize this is the first time you ever took a pregnancy test.

You placed the top onto the test and put it on top of the brown paper bag as you await for what it says.

“Five minutes…” you murmur to yourself.

Jungkook doesn’t expect to see you so soon. He’s cleaning up a bit of vomit from the floor when you enter the kitchen. He had already managed to get everyone out of the home as Jimin ripped off the shirt and hurled it into the trash before exiting himself. He offers a smile your way. “Feeling better?”

“I’m such a bitch.” you sigh with a shake of your head.

Jungkook snickers. “What do you mean?” he asks. “You shouldn’t talk about yourself that way.”

“Shut up and stop being so nice.” you grumble. “I shouldn’t have acted that way in the bathroom. I’m just…” you inhale deeply. Your mother would have surely given you a mouth full if she saw the way you treated her precious Jungkook.

Jungkook continues to clean the rest of the mess before turning back to you. He notices you’re completely still, watching his every move. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jungkook takes a few steps closer to you. “You got a fever or something?”

Jungkook’s hands are soft but a bit cool to the touch. He touches your forehead and rubs it down towards your cheek. 

“You don’t feel warm.” Jungkook comments. “I…” you trail off, unable to shake the look of Jungkook’s eyes off of you. “...my mother didn’t raise a scared bitch.” you repeat the same words aloud and it causes Jungkook to laugh.

“What do you mean-”

“I might be pregnant.” you interrupt him, needing to get the weight off of your shoulders. And you’re surprised that it did. You exhale with a raise of your brows. “That was easier than I thought it’d be.”

You look Jungkook in the eye, his doe ones staring intently back at you.

“I took a test.” you continue. “That’s what was inside the brown paper bag and why I snatched it the way I did.”

For once Jungkook is silent and it causes your stomach to churn again - this time with nerves. He’s so silent that you’re unable to read his expression.

Standing in front of him becomes a bit awkward and you’re anxious to get out of this situation entirely. 

“I’m gonna go…” you go to move yourself and this is what causes Jungkook to snap himself back into reality.

“I was processing your words.” Jungkook shakes his head, dropping his hand from your cheek. “Sorry…” he murmurs, blinking a few times. “...How long have you…suspected it?”

You take a deep breath then scoff. “I’ve been in denial. With Chaeyoung and Jimin it’s hard to not face reality.”

Jungkook hums, he suppose that’s why you threw up on Jimin so suddenly.

“I can’t read you.” you murmur, avoiding Jungkook’s gaze. “You’re usually…more readable.”

“Would you be upset if you were pregnant right now?”

Now that you had admitted to him that there was a possibility of pregnancy, he wants to be open with you. He wants to hear your thoughts and feelings about the situation. 

“It’s not ideal.” you shrug your shoulders, pondering on the question. “Would you?” “No.” Jungkook admits. “Of course not. I love you.”

You sigh. Fuck Jeon Jungkook and how understanding he was.

“But I also know this isn’t something you want…” Jungkook lets his hand touch your cheek once more and now you allow your eyes to meet his. 

“Well, duh.” you scoff. “I still haven’t met your parents. They're going to think I’m a whore if I just show up pregnant.” you’re only half joking but just the thought of meeting his parents and having to deliver news of a pregnancy just sounded backwards.

“They wouldn’t!” Jungkook insists. “My mom’s been dying to meet you.” he admits. He had to convince his mother countless times to not just show up randomly at his home and take matters into her own hands. “I've just been waiting for you to be ready. There isn’t a rush.”

Jungkook’s thumb traces the outline of your lips. He smiles down at you.

“Stop smiling. You’re supposed to be…”

Jungkook furrows a brow. “Suppose to be what? Mad?” he snorts - it’s almost as if you didn’t know him entirely. He had already planned the wedding in his mind and exactly how many kids he wanted to have with you (if you allowed). 

“Well I wasn’t expecting you to look so fucking excited, either.” you hiss, lightly pushing at his chest. “The test can be negative, you know. It could be fatigue or my blood sugar could be high or low…”

Jungkook nods his head at your words, listening to you. “Or, you can be pregnant,” he states. “Either or, I want what’s best for you. One step at a time.”

You nod your head at him and allow your cheek to nestle into his palm. 

“We can check together.” Jungkook leans closer to you, his nose tickling yours. “And we’ll do what we need to do from there.”

Jungkook pecks your lips in a comforting kiss. It’s weird to see how domesticated the two of you are - how comfortable. You would’ve never seen yourself entertaining someone like Jungkook a year ago, but now you and he are together constantly. You feel at home when you’re  around him; at ease when you’re in his warm embrace. Your heart is full whenever you’re around him and it yearns whenever you’re away for too long.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and the way he has made you soft for him; this wasn’t suppose to be. You were supposed to finish college as independently as possible and focus on a career until you decided you were ready to entertain anyone.

How the tables truly turned.

“I’m scared.”

Jungkook wraps his arms around you, chin resting on your shoulder. The test is a few feet away and none of you can see the answer on it just yet.

“This is the first time you’ve admitted you are scared.” Jungkook teases. “I thought your mother didn’t raise a scared bitch.”

“Fuck you.”

“I did and this is why we’re in this predicament.” Jungkook retorts coolly. “We’ll check together, okay?”

“Okay.” you nod your head. 

Jungkook and you step further into the bathroom and you grab the test. You turn around to face him, looking into his anticipating eyes. “So…do we both look or do I look and tell you or-”

“You’re procrastinating again, baby.” Jungkook places his hand on top of yours. “We’ll look together.”

Jungkook’s eyes lowers to the test in your hands just as yours does. The test tightens in your grasp as you look down at the letters on the small screen.

See the Future (Final Part)

@minaamhh @suciedad-divina @satisfied18 @y2k5bby @petalsofink @swga-ficrecs @rrrapmonste-rr @xtrataerrestrial @bangctans @danielle143 @taekritimin123 @thelilbutifulthings @jksjx @tasha-0795 @busanbby-jjk @joonlover1207 @hollowtree11 @amberpanda99 @parkinglot-nights @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @hoseokteardrop @jingerbreadoutofstock @subtaegguk @ultimatebasura

[girlycocksleeve]

Description: A man turns a cuntboy into his perfect girlfriend

Tags: coerced detransition, abuse kink, misgendering kink, transphobia, rape

He met her through mutual friends. The moment he first saw her at the house party, it was obvious to him that she was a fakeboy, her binder not able to hide her tits, which must have at least been C cups judging by the curve of her shirt. She had a lower voice, although distinctly feminine, so he guessed she must’ve been on HRT.

They had exchanged numbers and talked for a couple weeks. He was older than her, 33 compared to her 22, and she had just moved to the city.

When he asked her out she was ecstatic, and they quickly planned a first date, then a second, then a third. He took her to a bar and got her drunk before taking her back to his place, pushing her up against the door and kissing her. She slurred out that she didn’t take her binder off for sex, and that she was anal only. He respected that the first time, fucking her ass would be good enough for now. She had protested at how big he was, had begged him to go slower but he just whispered “You feel too good baby, I can’t help it” and fucked her harder.

Once he was done she lay there dazed for a minute, cum leaking out of her ass, before starting and saying she needed to go home. He convinced her to stay the night, citing the lateness and her lack of sobriety, and then helped her out of her binder. He made sure not to ogle her tits, definitely bigger than a C cup, until she was asleep. At that point he was free to take pictures and videos, even parting her labia to play with her enlarged clit, sticking two fingers into her virgin pussy while she moaned.

She woke up hungover the next morning and he was there with crackers and water and ibuprofen, all gentle and sweet. She didn’t really remember the night before, but assumed her aching ass was because of him, which just turned her on. Before she left she asked to ride him. He expressed doubt, saying that she was too hungover, that she needed to rest, and she just begged, giving him a blowjob to try to convince him. It worked, and soon enough she was bouncing on his dick, tits bouncing as she hadn’t even thought to put on her binder. She left mid morning with a plug in her ass and her cunt dripping.

Before long she was opening up to him about her kinks. She wanted him to be rough with her, degrading and humiliating her. He acquiesced, making sure she knew the safeword by heart, and telling her to use it liberally.

He started to isolate her, making plans when he knew she was trying to see other friends. Driving wedges in between them, making scenes go on too long so that she would miss appointments.

One weekend he kept her denied, only letting her blow him without being allowed to touch her ass. He fed her aphrodisiacs and kept her watching porn so that her cunt stayed wet. After a couple days she was begging him to fuck her, saying she would do anything he wanted. He gave her two options: either he would fuck her ass without lube, or he would fuck her pussy. She hesitated before saying ass, crying out when the head breached her and immediately asked him to fuck her pussy.

“I don’t know, you asked for this.” He sunk another half an inch deep. The friction almost hurt with how tight she was.

“No, no, please, daddy. Please fuck my virgin pussy please I need your cock in my cunt.” He smiled as he drew back and pushed into her virgin hole. Tight and wet and he was immediately fucking rough into her, not giving her a second to adjust. She just moaned, breath catching on every thrust. He wondered if she was on birth control, but ultimately decided it didn’t matter as he came in her.

He made her clean her juices and cum off his dick before letting her cockwarm him for the rest of the day, fucking back into her pussy whenever he got hard. Eventually she came from it, clenching around him beautifully.

It was a few more weeks before he made another move. She was basically spending all her free time with him, and he had taught her that the minute she entered his apartment all of her clothes came off. That day he had her chained up, arms above her head while she was on her tippy toes. Nipple suckers had been on her tits for a good half an hour while he had flogged her ass, making her thank him for each one as her skin progressively grew more bruised. When he took the suckers off he immediately replaced them with clamps, and she instinctively shouted “No!”

She froze up, knowing that she wasn’t allowed to say that, and he tutted, yanking on the chain between the clamps so that she cried out. He then left the room, going to the atrium where her clothes were, grabbing her binder and scissors.

“This body is mine, understand?” He growled the words while yanking on the chain again, harder this time.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir. Please, daddy.” She was sobbing, either from pain or fear of punishment he didn’t know.

He held up her binder, made sure she knew what he was doing as he took the scissors to it. “If I ever see you wearing one of these again, I’ll whip your tits until they’re so swollen you won’t even be able to put one on.”

She just whimpered, “Thank you, sir.”

He fucked into her pussy afterwards, and she came when he told her what a good girl she was.

[cameronspecial]

I Will Be A Mom, Rafe

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Summary: Y/N has news for Rafe that he couldn't be more excited about.

Masterlist

They’ve been married for five years now. It’s been an amazing few years together and they couldn’t have asked for anything better. Although they haven’t been actively trying for a baby, the couple hasn’t exactly been safe with their sexual activities. A forgotten birth control pill or a condom is not something they freak out about like they used to. So it isn’t a surprise to Y/N when she sees the little plus sign on the stick she peed on just five minutes ago. Happiness flutters through her heart. For the past few months, she has been thinking how amazing it would be to have a baby with Rafe. Their love has flourished over the past five years and she feels it is time to share that love with another human being, who is a combination of both of them. She isn’t afraid of how Rafe will react; she knows he will be excited more than she is. The front door shuts and she doesn’t have enough time to process what she should do. She can’t think of any special way to tell Rafe she is pregnant and she can’t wait to tell him, so she decides to just be open about it. 

Rafe enters their empty bedroom with knitted eyebrows. She isn’t anywhere else in the house, so where could she be? The light coming from under the bathroom door clears up where his wife is. He walks up to the door and knocks. “Y/N? I’m home. Are you okay in there?” he questions from behind the door. She creaks the door open, “Yeah, I am. But I have something to show you.” 

She steps out into the bedroom, holding out the pregnancy test for him to take. He looks at it, realization not crossing on his face. “What is this?” he asks. She almost wants to facepalm at her husband’s cluelessness. She takes his hands in hers, “It’s a pregnancy test. I will be a mom, Rafe. And you are going to be a dad.” His eyebrows raise and his mouth turns into a smile. He brings her into a bone-crushing hug by her waist, but it quickly loosens when he remembers his excitement. “Opps, don’t want to hurt the little baby growing inside of you. Sorry,” he apologizes before dropping to his knees. He looks up at her from below and sees her smiling down at him. “Hey, little person. I don’t know if you are going to be my little girl or boy or maybe neither if that’s who you grow up to be. I’d be okay with any of those options. I just want you and your mommy to be safe through your whole creation,” he begins to inform your stomach. “When I saw your mommy, I thought she was an angel. And I was right. I mean, look at where we are now. In about nine months, she is going to be giving me the best miracle I could’ve asked for. That’s all I have to tell you for now. I love you both so much.” 

His eyes train back on Y/N and he just needs to kiss her. He stands to rest his forehead against hers, kissing her on her lips before pulling away. “I’m guessing you are excited about having a baby,” she teases with a grin. He can only return her facial expression, “Of course. We have so much to do before our little one is here. Go to parenting classes, clean out the guest room for the nursery, plan a babymoon, find-.” “Slow down, Rafe. We have time for all that. For now, let’s just enjoy the time we have where it is just us,” Y/N interrupts, giving him another kiss. He takes a second to be and nods. Rafe couldn’t be more excited about this news. It’s a gift from an angel. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22

[apollodarling-writes]

I've being wondering about this for a while. I didn't think it, but turns out silva and kikyo do actually love each other. So killua probably grew up seeing those expressions of "love" and thinking that's normal for a relationship. How do you think that would affect his relationship with reader? And if it isn't too much, how do you think his overall experience with his family effects it? Because I highly doubt after everything he's gone through that his relationship with the reader would be perfectly normal. What're your thoughts?

before i delve into killua’s experiences, i wanna go into the psychology of a developing brain. especially during the most critical stages — from birth to five years old. according to vygotsky’s theory of child development, a child’s environment and external factors play a huge role in how a child develops as a person. he proposed that as a child, your brain is continuously learning and soaking up information. for example, right from wrong, how to treat other people, whats socially acceptable, etc etc. essentially, vygotsky believes that this stage of development is critical for how your brain functions as an adult, and that external influences play the biggest role.

now that we have that mini psychology lesson out of the way, let’s hop into how i think killua’s environment and seeing how his family treated each other affected him.

i dont know much about kiyoko and silva’s marriage so i can’t really speak on that, but based on the fact that they love each other and their kids, i can assume and speak on a few things.

firstly, killua grew up in an assassin family. he was trained from a very, very young age — most likely from when he could walk — and was required to develop an immunity to all poisons and be able to complete missions quickly and efficiently. from that, i can gather that he was trained very harshly and most likely learned to associate love with pain of some sort. i have no doubt that developing an immunity to all poisons was painful and extremely distressing for a child. this would likely shut down some pathways and cognitive processing that a child in a normal household would have.

i would also like to take illumi and kiyoko’s influence in killua’s life into consideration. illumi was extremely overprotective and manipulative, and even placed a needle in killua to control him. kiyoko was overbearing with her love for killua and, to my knowledge, always had an eye on him in some form.

now that we’ve taken developmental psychology into account, his family’s influence and behavior, and his assassin training, i can now go into how it affects him in his love life.

it has definitely affected him in some form, but also he now has gon to show him whats healthy. killua very clearly has expressed his distaste for his family, but i think that this is so deeply rooted in his brain that it would affect him for the rest of his life. and even if he did realize that it was wrong, i don’t think he would want to stop — self-indulgence at its finest. i think he rationalizes it as “my family did it this way so why would it be that bad” and “different people have different tatses”.

as for how it affects his relationship with the reader, he would be completely out of reach. both on a physical scale and a psychological scale. as an assassin, hes immune to all poisons and the reader has no chance of physically overpowering him — the only option would be to run but even then you wouldn’t be able to forever. you also have no hopes of “fixing” him. theres a very clear distinction, depending on how the reader was raised and their own tastes for love, between his views on love and theirs. at that point, you would have to live with his overbearing, self indulgent, over protective, and manipulative behavior. you’d honestly be trapped. just hope stockholm syndrome kicks in fast.

[moreespressoformydepresso]

TBOSAS fantasy creatures AU where the district people are all different kinds of magical beings (with human forms) whose powers are being heavily suppressed by the Capitol. Instead of the first interviews in the academy he mentors have to get their assigned tribute to talk to them (with Gaul’s scientist team making miniature environments the tributes can be their magical self in to make it more interesting) in a public, broadcasted setting with a crowd to witness this. Nobody knows how Highbottom got this plan pushed through but he did, hoping the public will see these kids as growing human beings instead of as vile beasts.

The start is… rocky. The mentors go in order of assigned district, girl then boy, and everyone gets one chance to start with. Everything afterwards is optional. So Livia goes first, fully expecting to get worshipped for the name Cardew or be attacked viciously by some monster, but she instead spends half an hour screaming into the void for Facet to show himself with no response. She doesn’t notice the shadow gliding around her, hidden in the dark crevices of the cracked walls of his environment. Livia doesn’t even know shadow elves are a thing, let alone what they can do. All she’s ever been taught is that elves are a monolith, and it’s coming to bite her here. Maybe if she’d been more respectful she would’ve gotten a chance.

Palmyra doesn’t have much more success, though she gets more reaction. While no words are spoken, she occasionally catches a glimpse of glowing red eyes peering out at her from the dense foliage. Once, she even catches sight of fur as a catlike creature starts to inch into sight, but as soon as the camera behind her is visible the girl disappears again. Velvereen doesn’t respond to anything after that.

After that, things get a little easier. Not great but not as bad. Sejanus and Marcus get a little reunion, though only when Sejanus uses his changeling abilities to escape the cameras and they’re completely in private, with enough proof for Marcus to believe Sejanus really does still see himself as district. Florus… is not so lucky. Sabyn (harpy) only lets out one screech and isn’t seen any further. Circ (fae) nerds out with his mentor Io and Teslee (Sphinx but instead of cannibalism she can briefly mind-control) rambles to Urban, but only Circ really gets to know his mentor. Urban just has weird vibes at the start which stunted the bonding. Persephone’s the first fully Capitol person with any success. The fairy plays a few harmless tricks on her before finally revealing himself and introducing himself as Mizzen. Persephone… immediately starts planning how to get him out of the games. This kid is too precious, she cannot and will not let him die. But she can’t say that out loud (yet) so her scheming remains purely mental for now. Festus is a massive slide back as he fucks up his first interaction the second Coral gives him a chance and the valkyrie refuses to show her face again.

Hy (a kelpie) and Dennis get on pretty well, and while Iphigenia takes a little to warm up to Sol (firebird) they get along in the end too. Perhaps even better… (I ship them due to An Old Style Of Escape don’t @ me) Otto (Gahe) and Ginnee (gryphon) become friends with the Ring twins too, though Otto starts off a little distrustful and disgusted by everything Capitol while Ginnee is a little put off by the jewelry and expensive clothing. Lamina (phoenix) is a little hesitant about Pup as they sit in the carefully crafted oasis environment, especially because he’s kinda judgemental and rude at first, but he quickly softens up to her and they become a little closer. She ends up crying about having to kill one of her closest friends since birth and how sick she feels at the thought of having to watch 23 people die and it fundamentally shifts something in the Capitol, who have slowly started to kind of pity these kids. Now they’re thrown into a crisis. This sweet girl was forced to be here, none of these kids have a choice, and they can’t avoid that fact anymore. All the other tributes were unique and kind, and it all worked to open them up to the reality check Lamina unknowingly gave them.

Then it’s Vipsania’s turn, and her landscape is a large pool of water made to look like a real lake, with different kinds of colorful foliage and even ruins of an altar at the bottom. At first, she and the crowd surrounding the large pool fully believe it’s empty, a belief only disproven by the occasional rustling, the shadow shooting through the water, and the soft, melodious laugh occasionally floating through the air with an echoey sound that isn’t entirely natural. She catches a glimpse of ink-black eyes and tries to call out, but falls in the icy cold water and can’t keep herself above water as her muscles freeze up. Her flailing only stops when a beautiful voice causes her to feel fully tranquil and hazy. For a second people fear Treech is using his siren’s song to drown her, but he pulls her out of the water and checks up on her until she calls his name, which scares him off and he dives back under the water with a yelp. She finally manages to coax him into talking to her and he ends up getting out of the water, tail and ink black eyes replaced by legs and brown human eyes. Occasionally she can hear his siren’s song slipping into his speech, but it becomes clear pretty quickly he does it on accident when he feels Big Feelings.

Hilarius is not a dick to Wovey in this! She’s a pixie and Hilarius gives her a makeover and does her hair because she asked him to and how does one say no to Wovey while claiming to have a heart? Bobbin is a little mean to his mentor at first but he gets around to her, using his wind spirit magic to make clouds for them to chill on. Sheaf (shapeshifter) and Panlo have a rough start with their mentors, with Panlo (forest elf) giving Gaius a proper dressing down in regards to how shitty his jokes are, but after the initial hurdle they get along swimmingly. Brandy (wit wief) Does Not like Arachne, and lets it be known by smacking her in the face with mist, but once Arachne lets go of the snobbish attitude they… find a middle ground? More like agree on a truce but yeah. Tanner and Domitia are the complete opposite, immediately befriending one another. He excitedly tells her about centaur biology and lets her ride on his back. Reaper (Basilisk) is very silent, occasionally flashing snake-eyes at Clemensia, but he’s not necessarily hostile. By which I mean she hasn’t been turned to stone yet. Dill (wood nymph) hides from Felix for a long while until she finally decides to give him a chance and he immediately starts plotting how to get her medicine. They get a nice sibling bond because Felix is nice and Dill is the sweetest, they deserve nice things.

Jessup (Faun) and Lysistrata get their bonding in too, of course, growing incredibly fond of one another very quickly. Lucy Gray (banshee) originally falls for Coriolanus’ charms, but his attitude towards the other tributes slips through a little and she loses all interest because she can see he doesn’t hold the values his behavior made her believe he had. His charming persona made her feel like he actually cared about the tributes, but she comes to realize he’s making every excuse he can to only care about her and make her ‘not district’. Now, Lucy Gray isn’t district. She’s Covey. However, that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t care about the people in the districts. They’re not her people because those she considers her actual people have been massacred, but they’re still people. A lot of them are good, humanity is inherently good, and Coryo’s insistence to see the districts as less worthy of life rubs Lucy Gray the wrong way. If he can convince himself to be okay with 23 children dying just because they’re “lesser” by being born different, what else can he convince himself of? How far will he be able to go as long as it benefits him?

At the end of the day, the Capitol’s heart has been softened and they refuse to let the games happen. In the zoo, they bring anything they can think of to help these kids feel more at home, from food to environmental trinkets that make the zoo enclosure feel less like a zoo enclosure. It’s not a lot but it’ll do while they sort out the whole hunger games stuff. Of course the games get cancelled, and the Capitol learns a lot of new things about the districts that bridges the gap between normal humans and supernatural beings.

PS I kinda wanted to make Lucy Gray a siren and Treech a banshee but banshees are all women so that was the dealbreaker :p (and also siren Lucy Gray means making SnowBaird happen and this felt like a better ending for her)

[caitlynmeow]

i can’t remember if you’ve said anything about this yet but i’m picturing ur cass going into labour and. how is girl surviving this once let alone THREE times when she reacted to PUBERTY like THAT 😭 just from the sheer panic alone

omg anon i haven't talked about this but it's Cassandra okay girlies is a MESS during all three times 😭😭😭

From way before giving birth, like soon after Alcina knew that Cass was pregnant she had a private meeting with wife and was very clear about making sure Cassandra goes for an epidural and there shouldn't be any of the no drugs option. Wife looked at Alcina and said seriously "What makes you believe your daughter is going to brave this one out?" Because she's known Cass for a few years and can tell that this will never be something to think about. Alcina has no reason to assume that Cassandra is going to do this because she's the kind of person who would cry over a paper cut. So giving birth without medication is not on the table.

And yes, wife is there to keep things under control to the best of her ability. Because as dramatic and out of control Cassandra can be, her wife can maintain calm and be the voice of reason during many situations. She’s not complaining at all, the dramatics are part of Cassandra’s charm that she fell for and she won’t have her any other way. As long as she knows Cass is okay and not in any real pain, she can take whatever comes her way.

Cassandra on her end was doing just okay until about 25 weeks into her pregnancy, then it downed on her and she started to actually panic every time she thought about it. She’d constantly tell herself: “People give birth every day, literally I WAS BORN!” And still get a tight chest because of all the anxiety.

She also was convinced that she was going to die, so it felt more like a countdown to that instead of having her baby because is she going to survive a human coming out of her? Not likely. She was ready with a speech to her wife, mom, and sisters.

When she was at the hospital, Cassandra was in full panic mode because she simply wasn't ready. But since it's time to give birth, the matter is out of her hands but she isn't known for giving up quickly. She was in no pain, physically. Her wife did ask her if she was in any physical pain, to rate it from 0 to 10 which Cass answered truthfully and said that it was at a zero. "Emotional pain?" Wife knows she needs to check on that because this is what's making Cass so anxious and distressed. "200" Cassandra answered as she burst into tears.

That wasn't the end of it. Since she couldn't feel anything, Cassandra's brain convinced her that she could keep this up for probably another day or two. And since she is absolutely not ready to give birth just yet, she decided that wants to leave and come back the next day when she's better prepared. But of course, there is no way she can leave while in active labor and contractions being so close to one another. But then again, she was feeling very panicky and overwhelmed and she wanted her mother because she wasn't going to do this and no one could make her do it.

There is no way wife is going to leave Cassandra's side and go get Alcina, so a nurse has to be sent out for the task. When Alcina saw the nurse approaching, she panicked thinking that something bad had happened. But the nurse told her that everything was okay but her daughter needed her.

When Alcina got into the delivery room, Cassandra thought she finally had an ally and that her mother was surely going to stop this madness and make her go home (she's persistent like that and also very delulu) but Alcina wasn't on her side, and told her that it's too late for that now. She will go home in two days anyway.

"I can't do this! I don't know how," Cassandra confessed, she was openly crying by that point and it broke Alcina's heart to see her like this. She always hated seeing her daughters in pain, and she knows that Cassandra is not in any pain but she is scared and getting very emotional because of it. Alcina hoped for a way to help ease her daughter's distress, but unfortunately, this was one of those things that her daughter had to do alone. "You don't need to do anything, draga. Your body knows what to do, and it's already pushing your baby out on its own," Because at that point, the baby's head was already out and this entire thing will be over very soon.

Sure enough, a few minutes later the room was filled with the baby's cries. And just like that, it was over.

Alcina did get to see her granddaughter as soon as she was born because she was right there providing all kinds of support to her daughter who was finally registering what had happened. Though she was pouting and tearful still, she did complain that no one listened to her, especially her mom and wife because they were supposed to be on her side. But she was soon distracted by her baby and forgot all about labor a few hours later.

Even Miranda wasn't mad that they only called her after Aurelia was born because she knew that Alcina was definitely going to be busy with Cassandra. Miranda called it first and suggested they have an OR on standby just in case this one granddaughter refused to give birth for whatever reason.

Donna was also frantic, knowing how near impossible it was and for once she sided with her mother. But Donna was in favor of them forgoing the whole delivery and going straight to c-section because 'there is no reason to torture the little doe,' as she put it.

It took a lot of coaxing, a very long process, and lots of tears (for no reason, really) but Cassandra did it eventually (with the support of both her mother and her wife and a very patient medical team).

[somecunttookmyurl]

So it’s not the same thing at all but I am also currently dealing with a ridiculous medicine-and-bureaucracy problem and I have no idea what I’m gonna do about it, so I feel your pain.

I got laid off in May and I just started a new job, but the benefits haven’t kicked in yet and won’t for a few weeks. I’m not clear on the exact date because I technically didn’t work full-time hours for the first two weeks during training and the offer letter has kind of vague wording about that. Meanwhile, my prescription for birth control needs to be renewed and I can’t go to my doctor because I’m currently on Medicaid, the awful government insurance that covers nothing, and fsr my doctor’s office doesn’t take it even though just last year their website specifically said they DO and I picked them out specifically because it said that (my bf has had Medicaid for years and I wanted us to have the option to go to the same place, that’s why I know this even though I had better insurance at the time). But I couldn’t find that page and I messaged her office to confirm and they basically admitted it had been a lie.

Anyway I really really like my new doctor and I don’t want to make my appt anywhere else. I spent so long picking out a doctor last year and it was the first time I was actually able to do that myself instead of one being assigned to me in one way or another.

But I only have enough pills for the next three weeks and I just KNOW even if I do get onto the new insurance before I run out, there’s no way it will be processed in time for me to actually make an appt and then pick up the prescription. (I can’t even BOOK the appt without proof of insurance.)

(I think I recently heard something or other about a new OTC birth control pill, and I haven’t looked into it yet but I’m not sure if it’s even available yet or sold near me if so. But even if it is, idk how to tell if it’s similar enough to mine that I can just switch over to it for a month with no problems. I would just ASK MY DOCTOR, but this is America and I can’t even do THAT without the right insurance.)

In THEORY I could go a month without and just be super careful, but I have no idea if that’s safe or what effects it could have or if I’d need to time it a certain way when I started up again.

Universal health care NOW.

girl i have universal healthcare and bureaucracy still finds a way to fuck with me none of us are safe

but if you're wondering it's perfectly fine to start and stop the birth control pill whenever you like. you just won't be protected from pregnancy until you take it for 7 consecutive days again

if you start it right at the beginning of your cycle it's 5 days but any other time it's 7 so really it doesn't matter just start it whenever and give it a week

(if you just happen to randomly miss a day then you should equally be careful for the next 2-3 days just like in general. psa for anyone who didn't know)

[cannabiscomrade]

Are you still ttc? Or did you stop/consider other options? And if so, what kind of advice do you have to someone struggling to conceive?

We are not TTC at this time, I’m on Phexxi birth control because I can’t take hormonal birth control. We can’t afford another pregnancy/child at the moment.

We are considering IUI in the future possibly, because all of the funds we had saved up for IVF have gone to my medical care in the past year. I also don’t know what the future of IVF looks like in the US after the Alabama ruling.

Obligatory I AM NOT A MEDICAL PROVIDER just someone who has been TTC for a long time

I have a few pieces of advice:

Surround yourself with people going through similar journeys. If you need LGBT specific groups, FB is a good place to start. TTC and struggling is such an emotional thing to go through and it’s one of the most difficult things my spouse and I have dealt with. You’re not alone.

Try not to schedule sex if you’re conceiving this way. We tried the SMEP method for a while and it added a lot of unnecessary pressure and stress on my spouse.

Make sure whoever is involved in the conception has had at least had basic fertility screening. The gestational prospective parent should have a fertility panel like FSH, TSH, estrogen, androgens, etc tested. If the other parent or a sperm donor is contributing sperm/semen, you can get inexpensive tests that analyze sperm count at the pharmacy. However they can’t tell you the health and motility of the sperm. OBGYNs and MFMs offer pre-conception counseling that usually includes testing.

I’ve heard a lot of people have success with at-home insemination kits, but do your research! There are also cups that work like menstrual cups that can keep sperm near the cervix, and I actually like those a lot.

If you’re like me with PCOS, prescription metformin has really helped regulate my cycle. I also took myo-inositol while I was TTC. ANECDOTALLY I have developed a large cyst on my ovary since stopping inositol.

If you’re under 35 and have been trying for over a year, the recommendation is to schedule an OBGYN visit. If you’re 35-40, 6 months is the recommendation, and over 40 consult right away.

Clue has been a really great tracker app that I’ve used for years. They have TTC and typical menstruation modes, and a pregnancy mode. Their servers are outside the US and cannot be affected by US subpoena requests. They are gender neutral and very accurate in their ovulation predictions, even with my irregular cycle. They’ve tracked me through TTC, miscarriages and my stillbirth.

[silvermoose]

Fanfic I wrote for The Coffin of Andy and Leyley. Originally posted on Reddit, then Ao3.

---

Being able to be openly affectionate with Ashley was one advantage to quarantine, Andrew had to admit. Even when their parents lived with them, their mom was always giving them disgusted looks, or making snide comments to them. Now he didn’t have to watch over himself, trying to be cautious about every interaction they had. He could interact with his sister without feeling judged about it. Everything felt natural, and he could be himself.

This changed after they started having sex.

He became much more self conscious, in a way that he never was before. Even buying condoms had become an ordeal. In his past life, he would just pick some up when he got cigarettes. He didn’t care who saw him, because he didn’t care if anyone knew that he was getting laid. It was different now.

He tried not to go to the same place twice, and never went with Ashley, lest someone realize how similar they look and make the connection. Each trip had him on the brink of an anxiety attack. They had discussed other options, but getting a prescription for the birth control pill would start a paper trail, and the consequences of pulling out were too dire. So instead Andrew dealt with the fear and shame of being found out every time he went to the pharmacy. He also stocked up on pregnancy tests out of paranoia; It got to the point where Ashley was used to just taking one every few days as a matter of routine.

“You know how that’s not how it works, right?” she said the third time, as she handed him the test with one blue line. “It doesn’t show you the moment you get pregnant, it only shows after a few weeks.”

“It’s either this or your demon trinket, and I’m not sacrificing anyone else if I can avoid it,” he said. He checked the box to confirm that yes, a single line meant ‘not pregnant’.

While She didn't mind at first, it got tiresome after a while. So she stole a pen from the front desk while Andrew was out. When it was time to take another test, she drew an extra line on it.

“Hey An-dy,” Ashley sang to him, holding out a test with two blue lines on it.

Andrew puked. Violently.

“What the fuck, Andy?” Ashley screamed.

“You're pregnant?? How did this happen? We were so careful! Ashley. I don't think we can do this.”

“Well, then it's a good thing I'm not actually pregnant, Asshole. It was a joke. I drew on the extra line.”

It took a minute for Andrew to register what she had said.

“What? What the fuck, Ashley, why would you do that to me??”

“I didn't think it would make you puke! Did you ever puke after having sex with one of your floozies??”

“It's not the sex, Ashley,  it's the thought of having a baby!”

“You think I'd be a bad mother.”

“No, I think it's a bad idea to have a child when both parents are unemployed, on the run, and oh yeah, they’re siblings!!!”

“It's not like anyone knows”

“Really, Ashley? You think that no one ever looks at us and sees how similar we are? Which features we share? The same mannerisms we have? That’s bullshit.”

“Is that why you never show affection to me in public? That you won’t kiss me or hold my hand? You’re afraid some stranger will judge you?”

“If they notice us enough to judge us, they notice us enough to report us, Ashley.”

“We’ve been out in public a lot without anyone saying anything!”

“Not while we were fucking!  Going out in public is hell. All I think about is people seeing through me, realizing I'm the freak that fucks my sister. And when I'm alone with you, I feel better. I feel happy. I feel like I’m home. I reinforce that they’re right .”

“Oh, so I make you a freak?” She yelled, more angry than hurt.

“Ashley. Leyley .” he said gently. He embraced her and kissed her hair. “You don’t make me a freak. You make me happy. I can’t live without you. But I don’t know how much longer we can go on like this. It seems inevitable that we’re either going to get caught and arrested, or killed, or something else, but we’re going to be separated, and I don’t know what I will do with myself if that happens. I don’t want to lose you.”

“And I don’t want you to leave me.”

He closed his eyes and held her tighter.

“What do we do, Leyley? To be free?”

“Let's ask the trinket,” Ashley suggested. “We still have one vision on this thing.”

It seemed like such a big ask. Up until this point, the trinket had primarily worked when it wanted to. But it was right about the hitman, it had been right about them sleeping together, so he agreed to give it a shot.They slept together that night with his arms wrapped around her, holding the trinket between their hands.

Robbing the pharmacy was easier than it had any right to be, but that was the advantage of having demons on your side. The place was remote and had only one pharmacist, so when they went in Andrew simply locked the door behind him while Ashley held the gun to the pharmacist.

“Don't be stupid about this, and you can live,” she said. The pharmacist nodded. “We want sectional. All of it.”

“Sectional? Is that what it’s called, Ashley?”

“ Leyley . And yeah, something like that.”

“Something like that? Seconal, Ley. It’s Seconal.” He shot Leyley a look, but she only smiled and blew him a kiss in return.

The pharmacist brought them their entire stock of pills, which wasn’t a lot, but would be enough. The Graves then bound and gagged the pharmacist and left him behind the counter, a rare act of mercy for them.

In the car, Ashley popped open one of the beers they had bought earlier and handed it to Andrew.

“Not while I'm driving!” He said, and tried to wave it away.

“What do you care? The vision showed we’d arrive safely.”

“I need to be able to chisel properly.”

“Why? Does it matter how nice it looks?”

“You know what? Fuck it, you're right.” Andrew took the can from her and took a swig.

They had a good buzz going by the time they arrived at their destination. Ashley was initially against the idea, but Andrew convinced her that if it was in the vision, they should do it that way. Plus, since their parents' bodies were missing, there was no actual grave. No Coffin. Just a tombstone with the word GRAVES on it, with their parents names and dates of birth below it.

Andrew chipped away at their names and dates of birth as best he could until it only had “GRAVES” on it. It looked alright, considering how much alcohol he had. Ashley laid out a blanket over the area in front of the tombstone, and they sat down on it.

“Okay,” Andrew said, as he poured the pills into two piles. “I guess it doesn’t matter how much we take? So we’ll each take half. Then lie down and stay on your back.”

“On my back so we can go out with a bang?” Leyley teased. 

“I'm serious, Leyley. If you puke everything up, it won't work.”

“Being on my back will stop me from puking?” she asked. She took the pills and followed it with some more beer.

“Yes,” Andrew lied. The reality was that if either of them threw up while on their back, they would choke on it; being on their sides meant they might survive the ordeal. 

“Leyley?”

“Mm?”

“In your vision, what was death like?”

“Peaceful,” Leyley said. “It was just us, here, then a feeling of warmth and heaviness. I woke up from the vision with a sense of peace.”

“I hope that means hell is nice,” Andrew said. “Look up at the stars with me.”

“Very romantic.”

“It is, actually. Author Mary Shelley supposedly lost her virginity on her moms grave. Romeo and Juliet died in her family’s crypt.”

“You always knew how to bring the romance,” Leyley said, her voice somewhat unsteady. Romantic, not romance, Andrew almost corrected, but now wasn't the time. He was starting to feel dizzy and didn't want those to be his last words to her. 

“I love you, Leyley.”

Leyley didn’t respond, and Andrew didn’t want to risk moving his head to look at her. Instead, he reached his hand out to hold hers. He felt his muscles grow weaker and weaker, and he couldn't keep his eyes open. As his breathing started to slow, he felt himself overcome with a sense of peace and calm.

[desireandduty]

@skyhaunter continued from here

Naboo, she says, and Anakin pictures the lake house, the water, the fields …. all such a far cry from where they had just been. So different, it always feels wrong, like Anakin was never meant to leave Mustafar. “No,” he answers, because he didn’t have one. His eyes flicker from her, to her stomach, to the controls, then back again. Then:  "Sid – Palpatine can’t find us.“  I should have killed him. I need to kill him, that’s how it works  —  He doesn’t need the supposed Sith master anymore, now that he knows how to keep Padme alive after she gives birth. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else matters.  ” As long as he’s alive, he won’t leave us in peace. “ Sidious has invested too much time and effort and planning into Anakin (or was it Vader he was seeking out the whole time?) to let him fly away. And the babies … only the Force can say how powerful they will be, too. "Do you think Naboo is a little obvious…”

And with just those few sentences, her heart is racing again. Having a threat hanging over her head is... something she is sadly all too used to by now after over a decade being targeted by Viceroy Gunray. But now it isn’t just her life hanging in the balance. If she dies, so does her baby. And he’s right - Naboo is too obvious of a choice. They’ve already cleared Mustafar’s atmosphere, so with a flick of a few switches, she shuts off the engines, letting her cruiser float in the dead, cold emptiness of space while they actually form a real plan. “You’re right. It’s the first place anyone would look for us.” She bites her lip, brows knitting together as she thinks through their options. “We can’t somewhere too remote. If your dreams are right, and I’m in for a... difficult labor, we’ll need a real medical facility.” Then, as if given to her in a vision, Bail’s strong and friendly face floats before her vision. “What about Alderaan? I am sure that if I commed Queen Breha, she and Bail would take us in...”

[masschase]

domestic life 3 and 8 for matt and casey! i genuinely love those two so much and can’t get enough of them :)

Thank you, it is so reassuring to hear people say stuff like this. My brain always tells me no-one wants to hear about my blorbos, haha.

Ship ask meme

All the spoilers warning but also I think I went right off the fucking rails on of the first question. Dear god.

Domestic life 3. How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like?

Oooookkkkkkaaaayyyyy listen. I feel so stupid typing this all out here even though those who've finished the fanfic know, because I always feel like on tumblr I maybe possibly present Casey and Matt like two kids who fuck about watching Nyte Blayde and running around shooting shit and dressing up in pretty goth clothes and *occasionally* dabbling in running a ship/planet together. But realistically they are fairly responsible adults, they have a planet to settle down on and resources and an excellent support system. So yes, they do have children and yes, I've known for a long time they were going to even when it's mostly not that era I'm drawing them in.

Again, this may be a bit of a surprise to some but from the age of about 25, Casey kind of decided she wanted kids and quite a few of them. 3 or 4 but probably 4. Told you she thought she was a fucking Kennedy. It's something she'd thought about since she was running for President, the idea of leaving a legacy, the idea of raising a human to adulthood and... she wouldn't admit it but she does actually like kids. She just says they make her uncomfortable and I've just mentioned in the last ask meme she gets that way when she knows she can't really have something.

She knows it's not practical while she's fighting gangs and shit. But she figures when she's President it might be safer. She never really decided if she was going to go back on her views on partnership or go it alone for that. I think she knew it probably still wasn't the most realistic of aspirations.

She starts thinking about it again when they're getting ready to take over the planet, but she's convinced she may die there and has no partner anyway, so her views on it are quite bleak. Of course, once they havr actually finished taking over, bearing in mind she's with Matt by this point, those thoughts start to creep back in. They make vague references to it when talking about the home they are going to build together, and this is kind of where they talk about their options being hide in the past somewhere, fight every time, or run when they need to, and they decide they will lean towards the latter.

She ends up putting her usual issues around talking about stuff like this aside and ends up asking him around 7 months later when her birth control shot is due to run out. It takes almost a year for them to concieve, and she starts getting rather impatient at not being able to control this like she can most things. But it does happen for them.

Matt was encouraged to think about having children perhaps a little earlier than a lot of people, back when Casey was always talking about getting him a partner out of the pods and how they would need to encourage people to repopulate the new planet. He only really pictured having 2 but I don't think he felt too strongly about it, so they quickly settled on 3. Probably for the best seeing as Casey's second pregnancy was twins. 🤣 I was thinking about all the risk factors they'd have for twins(she was 35, tall, possibly still breastfeeding, eats a lot of dairy, it was a second pregnancy, he was only 27 so probably fairly fertile now they were far enough away from the zin goo-based fertility issues) and I thought yeah, let's say that happened. In this case it happened the very first month (on their first full night without their eldest since she was born actually, any guesses when that was? 😉) so... even though they did choose to start trying again it still managed to be a massive shock to them both.

Victory is their eldest, born June 2024, I'm sure some of you saw the picture I snuck out although it's far from perfect. When I made a post back in April about drawing something I couldn't put out bc of spoilers that was it, hehe. She has very curly/wavy mid blonde hair as a kid, and bright blue eyes with a very slight ring of hazel around the iris (I drew this the wrong way around in my picture) Her eyes stay like this into adulthood but her hair gets darker brown, more like Matt's (roots) or Casey's mom's/sister's. In terms of features though I think she looks more like Casey than Matt. She's very intelligent, independent, thoughtful, creative, and quite assertive/bossy.

The twins are 22 months younger, born April 2026, and I think they are identical; a cis boy and as they later find a trans girl, with hazel eyes; the same kind of goldy shade as Casey's for the most part but the outer ring is more grey/blue whereas Casey's is more brown/green. Their hair is also wavy and very blonde as kids but doesn't darken as much as adults; they remain darkish blonde. Their features are a fairly even mix of their parents though (god knows what that looks like 🤣) I'm not certain on names yet at all. Either something similar to Victory's or I quite like the idea of using Apollo and Artemis. Since Artemis is a goddess but gender neutral as a name, so I can see her keeping it, just maybe changing her nickname to Emi rather than what they were using before. But I'm using their names here as placeholders only. The twins are better sleepers than their big sister, also pretty smart, clingier with their parents, especially Apollo, but they're also very boisterous and due to having a big sister as an example, talkative from a lot earlier. Like when they're all toddlers the younger two are running around causing absolute chaos while Victory is laying on the floor trying to draw. Everyone says the twins are gonna grow up acting more like Uncle Gat than their parents. Artemis never stops singing. Apollo is always hungry.

I think Matt probably suggested Nyte Blayde names but Casey brought up that all the ones with cool names are characters at least one of them are attracted to so it wouldn't be appropriate!

I guess this is a good a post as any to get at least a vague thing written out about how they're able to have a safe life. Matt manages to extrapolate the Zin cloaking technology to the entire planet, basically, while he and Kinzie wipe all the data about said technology, and the planet's co-ordinates, from the Zin database, replaced by the message "Ragnarok Wins Forever".

There are still minor insurrections, but Johnny and occasionally a few others mainly take care of those. As for Casey getting to still do what she loves... with gradual improvement, Matt was able to program a simulation as good as the Zin's but without the brain-frying side-effects so that they can fight together any time they have a spare moment to themselves(which is obviously not that difficult, with the Saints making up this big family it's not hard to find someone to take the kids for an hour or so) so she's really not missing out any more than she was on the spaceship. The time inbetween is much more fulfilling than back then though.

Something I decided only recently was that although in theory Matt and Casey could time travel off anywhere for a week when they needed a break and pop back to the same time; surely a dream for most parents, it seems so wrong for them to be out of sync with their own children that they decide not to, until they're adults and can kind of decide to travel separately if they want. Fortunately, again, they do get breaks thanks to the other Saints.

That whole thing with their different schedules is pretty useful by this point. Matt doesn't mind dealing with a few wakeups up until 2/3am while Casey will get up at 5/6am if she has to so they just have to hope the baby might sleep a little longer between those times... maybe... hopefully 😅

So yeah, I have more I could say here but I feel like I've let out a lot of my insanity at once here, lets move onto something more lighthearted immediately. :)

Domestic life 8. Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Now in theory, Matt would be the one more in a position to do this, because Casey tends to wake earlier. But more likely to convince is a different matter. I think if Casey wanted him back in bed it'd pretty much take her beckoning with one finger. *Maybe* a slight puppy-dog-eyes-and-pout if he's being resistant. Of course it really helps when any complaints about having work to do can be met with:

"Oh really? And who's your Boss again?"

[lalalasocks]

What do ovarian cysts feel like?

I have IBS so I can never tell if I’m feeling a cyst or just an IBS flare. It’s always in the very lower right on my abdomen

Well this is a month old so hopefully you see this now anon. Because there’s so many different types of cysts and because one of mine was an endometrioma which basically means a ball of endometriosis gathered together on an ovary I can’t tell you if all ovarian cysts feel like mine. But basically it was very localized pain to the very bottom of my abdomen and it could be either side or both. The pain would also occasionally shoot down my inner thighs. It started way back in 2022 or 2023 either just increasingly painful period cramps and then after getting multiple ultrasounds and a couple different opinions I had decided to wait and see late this winter. And then like a month later I was at the er at 9 at night because I was in such terrible pain and my period had ended a few days before. And after that the pain just got worse and longer until May it was lasting every day and I could barely move around without the pain getting worse so I got put on birth control for endometriosis and surgery scheduled. And then the pain continued to get worse until I was either taking pain meds around the clock or completely bed bound. So then surgery got moved up a month. And now I’m 2 months out from surgery. The pain definitely hasn’t gone away fully but it’s so subdued compared to what it was. And now I know that the surgery was a super easy recovery and that if it gets worse there’s always the option of taking out my uterus. When I sent the message to my doctor to ask to move surgery up I described it as a 4/5 on the pain scale constantly that every half hour or so would jump up to 8/9 for a couple seconds and if I tried to do anything besides laying down the pain increased until it was at a 8/9 trying to walk around for extended periods of time. Which I feel like is pretty accurate to what was happening, I would easily double over from pain when it got to its worst.

[youngestrunningleek]

Urchin of the Riding Stars

This is gonna be a long one, because I liked this book!

Content warning: this review will discuss culling “unwanted” parts of the population, and vomit.

Urchin of the Riding Stars is the first book in the Mistmantle Chronicles. It was written by M. I. McAllister and illustrated by Omar Rayyan, and published in 2005.

The book is about the island of Mistmantle, which has a castle and magical mists around it. The protagonist is a squirrel named Urchin. That’s a little confusing since urchin is also a term for hedgehogs, and this is a world with hedgehogs, red squirrels, otters and moles… but that’s his name.

He is an orphan with a prophecy around his birth. He’s also different because he’s honey-colored instead of red, except at his ear- and tail-tips. Yeah, it’s one of those books. It’s not challenging writing, since it’s meant for children, and personally that was just what I needed when I read this.

“Fantasy with small woodland creatures” is a relatively small genre, but this book is one of the best examples of it that I’ve read. This is the first book I’ve reviewed that is truly in that niche, so it’s a great opportunity to talk about the genre as a whole.

One thing that I think is notable is the violence. My opinion is that having little critters, instead of humans, lets you get away with more in a children’s book. The prologue is about a mother in labor, and she’s dead by the second page. Shortly after that, we hear about culling “undesirable” babies. And then we see the body of the prince, a baby hedgehog, after he’s been stabbed. That’s all within the first three chapters.

Some notes on their level of anthropomorphism:

Clothes are optional. They wear them for special occasions, or for warmth.

They might be human-sized? There’s an important detail about marking leaves with claws, like a signature. That implies the leaves are hand-sized. And, the book cover has a sea urchin next to Urchin, and it’s sized like it would be next to a human.

They have priests, monarchy, and marriage. Fantasy often has those elements and you take it as a given, but when there are no humans it does feel a little more odd.

I’m not certain if they live human lifespans, or if they age like their actual species, but it seems like human aging.

Generally, their species matters a lot. Squirrels easily leap, otters swim, moles are short-sighted. At points they use smell to see who has been in a place, and characters walk on all fours. They use claws or teeth like knives.

Overall, I’m a huge fan of this. I like that they aren’t just humans with flavor text. Using claw marks like a fingerprint is pretty unique.

They also drink alcohol. There’s a great deal of giving the king wine so he’ll be drunk and look bad, and then other characters try to give him spring water instead… You can also tell that McAllister loves the word “cordial”. They talk so much about cordials.

I mention that because squirrels probably wouldn’t drink alcohol in real life. Rodent’s can’t vomit, so mice and rats don’t drink alcohol.

People aren’t trying to poison squirrels in the same way, but I’m pretty sure in real life squirrels would not drink alcohol. I do know other animals drink alcohol. I’m less sure about otters, moles, and hedgehogs. Two minutes of internet searching didn’t find anything other than a few cool pictures of Sonic.

They imply a kind of racial hierarchy. That’s pretty common in fantasy, and it’s obviously a whole conversation.

What I found interesting was that it seems to have changed, over the years. At the time of the story, the king is a hedgehog, and squirrels could be considered as second in power. The usurper is a squirrel who wants to be in control. Then, broadly, are otters, and then moles. But in the past, there was a legendary Old Palace made by moles. And even before that, a squirrel was king. There’s also an assassin mole in the modern day who thinks a mole should be king, instead of a squirrel. I really like that the history is bumpy, in a way. It’s not as simple as “hedgehogs always get to be king”. We have a little bit from different species saying “we’re the best”.

Another thing I appreciate is that the person/nonperson distinction is relatively clear. You definitely run into that problem, with books like this, but it’s pretty distinct in Mistmantle.

They kill and eat fish, as well as worms and beetles. Those are clearly not people, and they’re not closely related. It’s not like there are fish-people at the same time as we’re eating fish, or even squirrel-people while we eat rabbit meat.

I’m also tremendously appreciative of what species populate Mistmantle. It would really eat away at me if we had, say, otters, weasels, badgers and hedgehogs (three mustelids and then a whole different family). Or mice, rats, squirrels and moles (three rodents and then the family Talpidae). When it comes to evolutionary closeness, squirrels, otters, hedgehogs and moles feel like they’re on the same level of closeness. It’s just something that really satisfies my brain.

There is some gray area with birds— another island is ruled by swans, who talk. But on Mistmantle they mention birdsong, which makes it sound like birds are just another animal. They never employ the songbirds as spies, or anything. But they also don’t eat bird meat or farm chickens for eggs, so it’s not terribly jarring.

I was pleasantly surprised by the number of female characters. I found myself expecting someone to be “he” and then catching my assumption when the book said “she”. The cast has so many gender-neutral names, like Apple, Needle, Crackle, Spindle, Tumble, and other things that don’t end in -le.

I wouldn’t mind fewer characters, though. Or a list of who’s who.

There’s one case of fridging, IMO. The captain Crispin meets another squirrel while banished, who helps him get through it. But she dies tragically before he returns to Mistmantle. She doesn’t really exist independent of him.

I will say, there’s a bit less sword fighting than I was expecting, and more court intrigue. The middle bit of the book gets a little slow because of the machinations and back-and-forth, but I guess that’s to be expected when it’s Macbeth.

Yes, this book is heavily drawing from Macbeth. We have a traitorous murdering couple who aspire to the throne. The bad guy is supremely confident because he thinks the one thing that could stop him is impossible. He is extremely sleep-deprived because he has nightmares about the murder he’s done.

It makes me really happy to think of all the kids who grew up, read Macbeth in English class, and thought “hey wait a second, this is just like that squirrel book!”

Another small note- squirrels do a lot of eavesdropping and rumor-spreading in this story. Intentionally or not, it’s reminiscent of Ratatoskr! That’s the squirrel from Norse mythology who runs up and down the World Tree sending insults from the bird at the top to the dragon at the bottom.

There’s kind of a lot of baby-culling content. I personally wouldn’t have included so much in a book for young people but, hey, whatever works, I guess?

I would say it’s broadly a good depiction. The good guys want to save the babies even though the bad guy wants to kill them for being “too weak”. The language they use is derogatory, but I can sign off on the overall premise of hiding away the children so they can survive. That’s good.

I really like that Urchin is good with children. That’s a very endearing trait, especially from an orphan who was raised by a community. I don’t know if a young reader would feel the same way, but I liked that he was nurturing in that way.

This book also made me think about connection with nonhuman protagonists. Sometimes people think that a nonhuman protagonist is hard to relate to. But, you’re telling me we meet the hero as a baby squirrel shivering in the cold? You’re telling me we gotta defend a baby hedgehog? Of COURSE I’m attached to that character! Obviously I’m rooting for him!

Some other fun worldbuilding things:

I already mentioned the leaves-as-signatures. There are also capital-T Threadings, which I’m curious about for the future books. They seem like just tapestries that tell a story, but it’s capitalized. So they have to be important!

One of the coolest things is that “falling stars” is not metaphorical. Urchin is “of the falling stars” because he was born on a night when the stars leave their orbits. That’s freakin’ sick!

Also, the illustrations are well done. They’re simple and small, at the head of each chapter, but they get the job done. Good job, Omar Rayyan!

One final note about rats, since rats are my faves: the only mention of them is when the swans call squirrels tree-rats. So, that’s treated as a derogatory thing.

Overall, I am pleased as punch with this book. I was approaching it thinking “oh well, it’s in my genre so I might as well read it”. Maybe it’s just that I needed a light read, but oh boy, I really loved it. I would 100% recommend it as an example of little critter fantasy. I’m going to read the next book in the series right away.

My personal rating: 4

Overall rating: 4

[cyanobotcodes]

Major Update to Cyanobot's Genes

Mod page, documentation: genes, xenotypes

So a late night whim to invent a few new xenotypes for my own use turned into a couple of months worth of project. I kept stumbling into things I wanted my new xenotypes to do, but couldn't find genes already out there that did exactly what I wanted, and going “well, I could just code that real quick…”

Cut to 7 new xenotypes and 46 new genes, plus one extra side mod.

Changelings/Fairies

Changelings are precocious. They have no parental care, so the baby changeling wanders off in search of other adults to take care of it. They are adorable, charming, and lazy. Everyone loves them, but they’ll eat you out of house and home. They also age slowly and stay children for what feels like forever.

Then they hit puberty.

“Fairies” (you know. what changelings grow up into.) are carnivorous, hulking, aggressive and extremely dangerous. They have toxic spittle and are both hard as nails and thick as two short planks.

New genes of interest:

Offspring/Metamorphosis : these genes self-generate from a template so that one of each is created for each xenotype loaded in the game. They let you create two-stage life cycles like this one, where the childhood xenotype metamorphoses into the adult form at puberty, and the adult has offspring of the child xenotype.

Afamilial : afamilial pawns are incapable of Childcare, and get none of the thoughts triggered by blood relations, including: grief, bonuses/penalties from happy/unhappy parents or children, relationship bonuses with blood relatives, etc.

Precocious : precocious babies enter the Child life stage from birth, meaning that they can move around, feed themselves, dress themselves, etc. They can’t fight or work until age 3.

Delightful : other pawns love Delightful pawns. While this is a “positive” gene, I confess I mostly made it while cackling about how it just makes Changeling children more awkward to get rid of.

Glimmer

Glimmers require Outland - Genetics for all their cosmetic genes, because I’m just in love with the range of gene graphics Outland provides. (There’s an optional version of the Glimmer without the graphics for use without Outland.)

Glimmers are descended from glitterworld utopists who revamped their own genomes to fit their own moral and aesthetic ideals. While they might be ideally suited to living in some utopian post-scarcity commune somewhere, they are fish out of water on a rough and untamed frontier.

Upsides: friendly, cheerful, kind, empathetic, smart, and long-lived. You know, things nice people might want to be.

Downsides: clumsy, herbivorous, and really, really upset by violence.

They are not gonna have a good time on the Rim, poor dears.

Psycrux/Thrall

Depends on VRE - Archon for the innate psylink and a bunch of other genes. I should probably separate them out, but it feels a lot like reinventing the wheel, and frankly by that point I just wanted to get the damn thing published…

Psycrux are horrible, super-potent, slave-taking psycasters who parasitise the minds of others to fuel their psycasts. 

Thralls are their victims, implanted with a xenotype that suppresses their independence and makes them easier to control as slaves or prisoners, while reducing their need to sleep and eliminating the need for recreation so that they can work long hours. They are however rendered slow and stupid, so their work isn’t necessarily great.

New genes of interest:

Psyphon : drain the psyfocus or raw consciousness of others to regain psyfocus. Can cause permanent brain damage or death, but if the psyphon is careful to only sip from the minds of others, it is possible to avoid permanent side-effects.

Implant Xenotype : Allows a pawn to implant others with a xenotype other than their own. Like the Metamorphosis/Offspring genes, one gene is generated for each loaded xenotype.

Domineering (Ideology only) : increased suppression power and arrest chance

Docile (Ideology only) : fewer prison breaks, less suppression required, more easily converted to another ideoligion

Shulk

Shulks are super-weird, nearly bestial xenohumans designed specifically for colonising deep subterranean biomes. Absolutely inspired by me playing a lot of Biomes! Caverns. 

Shulks are solitary, mute, and highly light sensitive, but they are specialised for survival in resource-scarce environments. Quintessentially they are survivors.

Their extremely high metabolic efficiency means they don’t need a lot of food. Strong Stomach and Robust Digestion allow them to eat pretty much anything, raw, while claws and fangs give them a chance of hunting for their food without access to weapons. Expansive Stomach allows them to glut on food while they have access to it and then digest slowly.

Tough Skin, Strong Immunity, and Superclotting protect them against a harsh environment where they may not receive medical attention. Their children grow up fast.

Most of the work for these guys went into their big ol’ leathery tails, which have no mechanical benefit whatsoever. The tails are lightly animated, swapping periodically between a handful of different poses, which required really getting my teeth into the graphics code.

New genes of note:

Expansive Stomach : eat up to 5x as much food and digest slowly

Light Sensitivity : while inspired by the similar gene in VRE - Lycanthrope, I wrote my own version because I wanted it to be slightly more complicated. Bright light causes a larger penalty than dim light, and the light penalty is calculated while on caravans from the biome and the time of day.

Darkling (Anomaly only) : immune to Unnatural Darkness. I wanted Shulks to be able to live entirely without light, which poses a few problems with some of the Anomaly content…

Wist

Wists were engineered by a corporate interest to serve as specialist battlefield medics. They’re hemogen-powered bloodfeeders, but with a very different vibe to (and far fewer superpowers than) sanguophages.

Their main powers, in addition to medical aptitude, are Coagulate and a new bite laden with pharmaceutical venom that fights infection and also serves as a battlefield booster, numbing pain and boosting mood to prevent awkwardly timed mental breaks. It’s also highly addictive. You wouldn’t want people deciding they don’t need their company medic after all, now would you.

Wists are very sleepy (after all, you only need their services some of the time), but have an Endostimulant Burst ability that wakes them up when needed. All three primary abilities are hemogen powered -- but what’s more abundant in the middle of a battle than the blood of your enemies?

They’re also tiny and purple, because I don’t know. Brand image?

New genes of note:

Endostimulant Burst : consumes hemogen, self-only, immediately reduces Rest need, buff that temporarily boosts consciousness and reduces Rest fall rate

Wist Venom Bite : delivers a drug that boosts Immunity gain, reduces Pain, and boosts mood. Highly addictive.

[just-a-domesticated-cryptid]

How to Live in the Underworld: A guide Written by A.P. for D.P.

I didn't want to end this chapter like this but it was getting too damn long

tw: strong language, implied suicidal thoughts (but in the 'im going to die at the next minor inconvenience' kind of way)

not beta read yet, we die like MEN

4716 words

CHAPTER 2: Still Alive

Vivienne is sitting on the sidewalk, seemingly considering taking a few more steps; straight into oncoming traffic.

She can’t see; her forehead is on her palms. But she can hear and smell the burnt fuel of the vehicles zooming by. She hates all these smells and noises and the feeling of rumbling underneath her feet and - 

It feels like everything is over, like the sky is being torn open and it’s only a matter of time until a chunk falls on her. A cold piece of the sky, with sharp corners sticking out. She would get impaled first. It reminds her of this guy her brother told her about. Something-something, impaling a bunch of people. He made it like a forest, but instead of pine trees you have skewered men.

It’s really messed up, and he wasn’t even from the Underworld. He did all of that up there. That’s impressive.

His name escapes her right now.

If she dies now, would it be because of blood loss, or she may perhaps be crushed before her mind can even understand she’s dying? She might not die; just stay there forever, like a mummy trapped in a tomb. 

What are her options now, besides a quick ride to the afterlife? 

Right now, with her sitting on the sidewalk, contemplating the end of her world, it seems like there is nothing left to do. It feels like everything she did up to this point was for nothing: all the nights working shitty customer service jobs and reading through school notes again and again and again, until one day she could be good enough. Work hard, make a place for yourself in this world, take control over your own life. That was the plan.

Still is. She is still here.

And then there was the hassle of fake paperwork; new name, new date of birth, new address, all laid out in black ink on a fake (but high quality) identity card. 

Give it a few days.

She’s being dramatic, and she knows it, but it’s certainly nice to sink into despair every now and then when you know you can swim back up. 

It feels like such a luxury to be so concerned for one bad grade. She still has the memories of days when the ground was frozen, but they couldn’t afford to pay for the heating. When the only food in the fridge were leftover bits of stale cheese and mouldy carrots. When it was so cold she and her brother had to take turns wearing the coat. At least now, no matter how low the temperatures drop, she doesn’t have to share her brother’s coat with anyone.

Vivienne dropped these memories into the same pit of despair she’s floating in right now, and she let them sink to the bottom. She will never allow herself to ever reach those depths ever again. Right now, she just enjoys the luxury of floating on the top of a lake of sorrows.

She just knows they’re there, not fully letting go of them, like a hoarder sweeping rubbish under the bed. There are already piles and piles stacking up. It sucks, but these memories are hers.

There is a comfort in suffering for minute things when your life isn’t on the line. 

Nora finished her exam as well, resembling something of a wet cat; they sit down next to the person they currently know as ‘Vivienne’.

‘Do you think you passed?’, they asked, trying to be optimistic. The feeling of dread is so familiar in their chest. Life is full of uncertainties, but it will always promise death and failure. Countless shortcomings, every day, every week, every year. You just need to keep going.

‘I don’t think I even wrote my name right’ Vivienne mumbles, with her forehead still in her palms, exaggerating the situation, for whatever reason. 

Pity? No, she doesn’t need pity from anyone, less so from Nora. More like… personal satisfaction from being theatrical.

The silence between them is filled by the cars continuously passing by. There’s their bus, once dyed bright orange, a horrible eyesore. Now, the paint is chipped and the colour was dulled by the sun. Neither of them can be asked to get up, so they let it pass. 

Nora is the first to break the silence, the question itching on their tongue.

‘What’s your name anyway?’

They had the same conversation two years ago, and Vivienne (although she wasn’t ‘Vivienne’ at that point) remembers Nora screaming at her from across the kitchen. They placed distance between them, as if she was a dangerous animal that couldn’t be dealt with face to face. Growing up on these streets you learn to never attack a cornered animal; desperation makes you hungry for blood.

That’s how she knew to keep her distance from Nora, who accidentally cornered themselves between the kitchen table and the oven. 

She also remembers trying to decide which one is worse: the omen of death that is the sorrowful scream of a banshee, or the simple hurt and betrayal in their voice, which made her feel so small. Eighteen or eight?

‘You can’t gaslight me anymore! Who are you?’

It’s almost funny, looking back. Most people asked ‘What are you?’’ but Nora just had a knack for asking the most uncomfortable questions and, most often, the right ones.

That’s what gets you killed in the Underworld.

Two years ago, Vivienne tried to lie her way out of another difficult situation, only to be sat in front of the truth like a deer trapped before a set of headlights. If you don’t move, you get run over.

‘I’m Jude’

‘The name’s Mary-Anne’

‘Jamie’

‘Sandra’

‘Katherina, but you can call me Kate’

‘When did you record all of this?’

And the next question that floated in her head was ‘Fuck, does my voice always sound like this?’

Vivienne stared into their mouth; a mouthful of perfect sharp teeth which never had to tear through flesh, but there’s a first for everything, and she knew that. Which one’s worse: being seen or being known? 

Nora grabbed on to her sleeve; they knew better than to directly touch Vivienne right now. You wouldn’t touch a scared wild animal, armed with claws, teeth and a desire to survive, would you?

‘Hey! What are you doing?’ and she jerks away, as if Nora’s skin is hot and their touch violent. But it’s not. It never was and it never will be.

‘Last time we had this conversation, you ran away for a week, and rent’s due in three days’ Nora replies letting go of her.

Vivienne would rather die than give Nora the satisfaction of being right, but they are; if there is one good thing she is good at, that is running.

Run away from home, run away from your brother’s debt, run away from anyone who gets too close. You can’t hide forever from the scrutinising gaze of the world, but it’s so much more terrifying exposing your humanity (or lack thereof). Get lost in the crowd, out of this town, run until your shoes break and you drop dead. 

‘Look, Carmen…’ Nora begins.

‘Vivienne.’

This morning, she decided she will introduce herself with ‘Vivienne’, like Vivienne Leigh, the actress, but who is keeping track anyway?

More silence, staring into each other’s eyes. Both are deers and headlights, trapping each other. Who’ll be the one to step on the acceleration?

‘Shit. I wrote the whole essay on the ‘Vivienne Wraith Experiment’ Nora says, nearly choking on the words. Are they holding back a laugh or tears? It’s hard to tell.

They press on the pedal at the same time when they start laughing, their bodies hunched over and holding on to each other for support, as if either of them is even remotely stable.

They both fucked this one, and they will be at the doors of the very same Institution in three month’s time, hopefully more prepared for the retake session. 

Nora is still holding on to her sleeve, as if they’re afraid the wraith will run off, but she doesn’t want to do that anymore. They’re laughing now, like children playing in the sand. The world is vast and deadly, but that does not matter. Not right now, at least. Billions of people out there, but the only one to hold any sort of significance is the one next to you, at this very moment. 

When Nora laughs, Vivienne hears her brother’s voice, awkward and infectious. She’s not sure if that’s really how he laughed or if she put their voice over a silent memory, forcing it to fit like pieces from two separate puzzles. It’s comical how you don’t bother to remember what you think you’ll never lose.

‘Let’s go home’ Vivienne says, getting up and dusting herself off.

Home.

People are unreliable, especially when it’s all about survival. They’re all still animals, tearing each other for a seat at the table. You only understand what ‘dog eat dog’ means when you’re hungry, and then you learn to live with the shame of doing what you had to do.

Yeah, your fellow brethren is scum, but somehow public transportation is worse.

It takes another hour for the next bus to arrive, and this one is even older. The paint is a dull orange, giving the bus a sickly appearance. The engine buzzes like it’s a race car, but it moves like it’s being dragged across concrete by a single malnourished horse. 

It stinks of piss.

This could be some sort of lesson about letting opportunities get past you. If you want something, you need to put in the work to get it. But you only realise what you had after it’s too late to get it back.

Unsurprisingly, neither of them gives a shit right now. They just want to put distance between themselves and the Institution, letting the failure of the examination sink into the past. Out of sight, out of mind. For now.

They don’t speak to each other, sitting in comfortable silence. Convenient silence. Familiar silence.

Almost familiar, actually. Usually, there is tension between them. Resentment because the other didn’t take out the trash or left the kitchen in a mess, with crumbs on the table and a sink full of dishes. Grudges stick to them like velcro: easy to stick on, easy to let go. 

But there is no tension now, at least not between the two, which is something of an early Christmas miracle. 

‘Vivienne’ starts to leave a bitter taste in her mouth; just like a pill you don’t swallow, a name she holds on for too long seemingly starts to dissolve. It feels chalky, like it’s going to slip through the cracks, like she’s going to choke on it. Spit it out.

Not now, though. 

The bus comes to a halt, and Nora holds her hand when they walk out. 

They do that sometimes, a type of exposure therapy. Like when you bring an old dog home and you start by petting their front paws, then their back, and then their head. They say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but you can certainly teach it love.

Nora is rambling about something, but Vivienne is too focused on the warmth of their hand to hear them. It’s not a purposeful thing; she’d feel the same way if she had a tag on her shirt or if she had gloves on. They’re just distracting feelings she learned to tolerate, at the expense of her other senses.

Nora lets go of her hand and unlocks the door, which is great because Vivienne feels like she can finally hear again.

She goes to her room and sits criss crossed on the bed; everything is so loud now. 

From underneath the bed, she pulls out a mustard-yellow shoebox. Out of the shoe box, she lays out on the bed a scarf, some books, tangled earphones that only function in one ear and, from the very bottom, an old notebook. The pages are dull and yellow, and the corners are twisted upwards. The entire notebook doesn’t properly close, maintaining the sensory memory of being rolled up for many, many years.

She takes a deep breath and opens it at a random page.

His handwriting is so ugly and scratchy, it would have taken her forever to read it if she didn’t already have the entire thing memorised. You can blame the permanent nerve damage on his hands he got from the biting winters in the Underworld, or just that he didn’t give a shit.

The S is basically a straight line, and to call it chicken scratching would be generous, but she knows it says ‘Survival Guide’. She learned how their names are written by observing him write them down on the cover of the notebook. She crossed them out years ago; now it just says ‘Written by… for…’.

The entry is written in bullet points, and the writing goes up and down, in spite of the lines that clearly guide where you’re supposed to put the pen down. He was, most likely, not looking down when he was writing.

It’s not like she can ask him now. Anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore. It never did.

On the first line, it says ‘The Bitter Widow’, on Auburn Street. Vivienne knows this pub as the place her brother told her to go if he’s gone for longer than three days. 

The next line was another address, Azure Ave, and he capitalised and underlined ‘AVOID’. In the Northern side of the Underworld, Azure Ave is where the fun happens. That’s where the deals are made and where flesh is exchanged. In places like that, in the Underworld, you’re reminded of how small you are and how hungry the big fish are. There is not enough to go around for everyone, so hold on to the little you have with your teeth.

Her brother died thinking she planned her routes avoiding that street, but why should she miss out on the fun? He was just being paranoid, babying her like she is a dog that will run away the moment you open the door. He wouldn’t even let her cook, for fuck’s sake. 

She still doesn’t know how.

Out of the notebook, a loose bit of paper falls. It looks like it’s been crumpled, walked on, used as a coaster and suffered other unidentifiable bits of damage. She doesn’t need to read it to recognise it. She promised herself she wouldn’t…  but she reads it again.

The words are burned on her retinas, but she reads it anyway. The letters are much clearer, written before the harsh winters in the North of the Underworld fucked up his hands.

It’s a pros and cons list. Just a list. It can’t hurt you.

It can’t-

Cons of running away:

  We have nowhere to go

  She might track us down and kill us anyway

  I don’t know how to take care of us

Pros of running away:

I can keep her safe

I can keep her safe

I can keep her safe

All the way to the bottom of the page.

I can keep her safe.

‘I didn’t choose this’ Vivienne says, as if her message will reach her brother if she speaks into the void and, with it, her guilt.

‘Chose what?’ Nora asks, standing in the doorway and observing. Their head is nearly touching the door frame, but they are still stooping a little

‘How long have you been standing there?’ Vivienne asks back, snapping the notebook shut, with the loose paper in it. Although because it does not have hard covers, it does not make the satisfying thud of a book closed sharply.

‘Were you never taught that it’s rude to answer a question with a question?’ Nora replies, without actually being offended. They’ve had two years to get used to each other. ‘I just got here.’

‘What do you want?’

‘To do something fun!’ they say, picking at the wooden frame which suffered numerous ‘landlord treatments’ over the years.

‘Wanna steal a car and go for a joy ride?’ Vivienne proposes, her face lighting up at the idea, although it’s not met positively by Nora, who rolls their eyes.

‘I said fun, not illegal.’

‘I’m pretty sure those words are synonyms.’

For Nora, they’re not, but there is no point in getting into that right now.

‘Say, what if we explore that apartment upstairs, number twenty-something?’

‘Nora, I don’t do my masters in law but I’m pretty sure trespassing is illegal.’

‘It would barely even count! Have you ever seen anyone going in or out of there? Ever?’ 

They have a point; where their plan fails is the fact that they’ve been hearing weird noises from there ever since they moved in. Doors slamming, heavy footsteps, furniture being dragged from one corner to the other.

Vivienne is too embarrassed to admit she could swear she heard someone crying in there.

‘Good enough for me’ Vivienne says and gets up, puts the notebook in the box and puts in the lid, without placing the wide range of stuff she used to cover it. Now that Nora saw her hiding place, she will need to find another hiding spot anyway.

………..

‘Can’t you use your claws to pick that lock?’

Nora’s claws could tear through flesh. Fundamentally, they’re weapons. Yet they could be so gentle, like the one time Vivienne choked on splintered bones. Seriously, what do you mean you can’t eat cooked bones?

Vivienne was sitting on the counter, with her head back and trying to move as little as possible as Nora fished it all out, bit by bit. Every breath hurt and she was afraid she punctured her lung. The worst part was that it would have been such a pathetic death. But those talons were damn good; Nora would do a fine medic one day.

It’s easy to imagine Nora comforting a youth stabbed on the street. Whilst it’s impossible to visualise them in the sterile environment of a surgery room, you just know they would do great on the streets, in the flesh of the events.

It’s ok, you’ll be fine. I’m here and I won’t leave you until you’re ok, as they are stuffing wounds with gauze, trying to stop the bleeding. Being a banshee would come in handy; Nora would know if they would die before their vitals would begin to drop. What treatment is needed at that moment? Antiseptic or a warm embrace?

Sometimes, being heard is enough. 

‘You know that’s not how it works.’ Nora answers, frowning as they work through the rust within the aged lock.

Of course Vivienne knows that, but although annoying Nora is not her favourite thing in the world, it’s certainly up there. 

‘Let me show you how it’s done’ and Vivienne kneels before the door, as she pretends she can’t see Nora roll their eyes. 

If she had more energy, she might have put up a little show; look into the lock, try the door handle, or even pretend she is going to unscrew the faceplate. That’s a thing she saw her brother doing; tricks, distractions. A born con-man, he dutifully passed down his skills to his little sister.

She tries to pretend it’s not there, but there is a weight in her chest that she doesn’t want to explain. Explaining means acknowledging, and fuck that. She’d rather shove those feelings down her throat and let her stomach acid dissolve it. Because that's healthy.

Vivienne keeps telling herself she will buy a better set of lock picking tools, one that won’t bend and snap in two. The set she has now is too small to be used comfortably. It’s embarrassing, they almost look like toys. When her brother brought them home, she certainly thought they’re toys. (chuldhood hoem)

She could take Nora’s, but she would rather die than owe anything to anyone. 

‘This is how you do it, then?’ Nora snickers, leaning on the wall next to the door as her housemate struggles.

‘Fucking shit!’ Vivienne snarls, and kicks the door, which swings open.

‘Wow, Houdini. You picked an unlocked lock! Congrats!’ Nora says, fidgeting by picking with two fingers the skin around their joints.

‘You tried to unlock it first, smartass.’

Thinking about it, it is dodgy to walk into an apartment they heard weird noises in for two years straight, yet never saw anyone leave or stay. This is made worse by the fact that it wasn’t even locked. And they would have realised that if each of them brought forward a brain cell to rub together.

Maybe there is nothing worth protecting?

Things have the value you give them. That’s why, for wraiths, gold has a high value. You wear it on your ears, wrists, and fingers. It’s a message that says where you’re from, what’s your covent, who's your family. It marks you as having someone who not only has your back, but also loves you.

Vivienne has no gold on her.

Not anymore, at least. She remembers the earring with a purple gem, and she remembers the way it tugged on her hair when her mother didn’t braid it. She couldn’t remember when her brother stole it to pawn it when they couldn’t make rent.

No matter the species, though, people stay priceless. You could be the wealthiest man in the Underworld, but what’s the point when grief is dragging you down?

It sucks twice as much when you’re poor, though. 

They walk into the apartment of mystery, hit by the smell of the typical mustiness of a room that hasn’t experienced an open window in decades. Whatever furniture has been placed in the apartment was covered with white sheets, which turned grey with dust. In fact, the entire place was covered in a thick layer of dust, making each breath particularly difficult.

‘I’m getting lung cancer just from looking into this room.’

‘That’s not how lung cancer works, but you could get asthma!.’

‘Shut up.’

And they walk in, with their phone lights turned on. Awkward black figures stretch from the covered furniture across the floor and on the walls. Cobwebs in the corners create shaking shadows, as they quiver with the movement of the air in the room.

Up until that point, there was a sombre stillness in the room, but, as they moved their phones’ flashlights around the surfaces in the apartment, it gave the illusion it’s breathing. It gave the impression that, within the walls, there is a beating heart and a set of lungs. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

Nora shines their light on the floor, observing how the carpet of dust was disturbed; they can’t tell if the marks are the result of one person pacing back and forth, or numerous people did. Either way, it’s been a long time; a thin layer of grey set on top of the marks.

They continue like explorers in a cave, but there is hardly anything to see or, in Vivienne’s case, to steal.

Even in houses abandoned for decades, there is a sense that someone lived there at one point. Sometimes, you can still see sheets wrapping the bed or broken frames fallen off the walls, or dirty cutlery in the sink. But this is desolate; everything that could be taken out was. Which sucks because Vivienne was really hoping for a souvenir, but it is what it is.

They reach the kitchen and Nora turns on the tap.

Nothing. 

‘This is boring’ Vivienne says, running her finger across the kitchen’s worktop, and rubbing the dust between her fingertips.

The door slams behind them.

They want to pretend they didn’t scream and scatter, but they did. Well, Vivienne did. Nora stayed put and frozen, as if that would make them invisible. If they could blend in with the background, that would make them safe.

Where did Vivienne go?

‘Carm- Vivienne? Where are you?’ they whispered. The air is so still the sound of every breath could travel across the entire apartment. 

Their chest begins to tighten and the air is unbearably hot. It’s boiling and it feels like their skin is bubbling on their flesh and this does not feel like death. It feels worse, like anxiety.

‘Hey’ and a clawed finger taps them on the shoulder.

That’s when the freeze response turns into fight and they instinctively throw their phone behind them.

‘Motherfucker!’ Vivenne exclaims, as the phone hits her square in the face. The phone falls to the floor and cracks, but it’s still functioning. It falls face down in the middle of the kitchen, lighting up the ceiling.

‘You scared the living daylights out of me!’

‘No I didn’t! You don’t even photosynthesise!’ and Vivienne moves her hand out of the way to gesticulate, revealing a nose covered in blood.

Nora just stares blankly at her for a few moments.

‘C’mere’ and Nora takes a step forward. They don’t have anything to clean up the blood, so they try to clean it with their sleeve.

‘You suck at this’ but she’s not bitter. She’s smiling, as Nora is mostly smearing her blood on her face.

‘And you swal-’ but they stopped before they could finish their sentence. Neither of them moved, but someone in there did. They heard someone’s weight creaking under the rotten floorboards. For one second, but it was enough.

‘Let’s leave’ Nora proposes, and Vivienne nods in silent agreement.

Nora turned their head towards where their phone fell after it ricocheted off Vivienne’s face, and it only takes a step before the floor beneath them makes a cracking sound. It feels hollow, and they don’t have a chance to move their foot away before the entirety of the kitchen floor, putrid and hollowed out by termites, breaks under their weight.

In moments of crisis, people describe the events as happening in slow motion. Not this time; the fall took a second, maybe two. You blink and you miss it.

Well, you can’t miss the aftermath.

Broken bits of wood and flakes of lime coat the apartment they fell into. A white cloud of whatever substance was used to insulate the apartment building slowly settles. Hopefully, it’s not asbestos. 

Although neither of them would put it above their landlord.

‘Next time, let’s just steal a fucking car.’ Vivienne says, trying to get up and dust herself off. She really hopes it’s not asbestos. 

Nora would verbally agree if their head wasn’t pounding and they didn’t feel like every bone in their body cracked in some way. They speak in a low and unarticulated tone, which Vivienne can’t understand. She is not exactly concerned with Nora, her attention being taken by their surroundings.

They fell into the apartment below, but whose apartment was it?

It doesn’t matter. They just need to get the hell out and pretend they didn’t have any involvement.

The only thing that matters in that apartment is the front door. Of course, they could try leaving through the window, but they both had generous helpings of dropping from considerable heights. 

So considerable, in fact, Vivienne cut her hand in something. Her palms are covered in blood and she is shaking too hard to do anything useful, like picking a lock.

‘Hey, how about you use your lock picking skills and deal with that door?’ she says, extending her left hand towards Nora, to convince them to get up.

Nora looks at her- no, through her with the face of a child caught breaking the most important porcelain in the house. And then setting the house on fire.

‘We’re fucked. We’re so fucked.’

This is not the moment. This is not the moment to have a mental breakdown. 

‘Nora, listen to me. Listen- We’re not fucked yet. You just have to- get up! Get up now!’ and she grabs the front of their shirt, trying to pull them up. Given the considerable size difference and the fact that Nora was letting all of their weight back, it looked like a chihuahua playing tug of war with a saluki. 

Still holding on to their shirt, turning it bloody, Vivienne prays the lock she hears turning is just an auditory hallucination. 

Unfortunately, it’s not.

Thank you for reading all of this ^-^