#but I need to info dump in a safe space!!
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Um guys? Guys? Why is there a tag limit?? Why is thERE A TAG LIMIT?? AAAAAAAAAAA
#tumblr#writers on tumblr#tumblr tags#but I need to info dump in a safe space!!#and then go through tumblr peer review!!!#what do you expect me to do???#talk less??????#actually make posts instead of using tags?????????#but tags are my safe place!!!!!!!!!!#autism#neurodiverse stuff#its the neurodivergency#neurodiversesquad#autism comedy#actually autistic
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Satellite Call Mini-Series (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.
Series summary: Your world crushes when Spencer is arrested. Between finding a way to get him out and keeping you afloat, there is something else you need to focus on, too. And even when you thought things couldn’t go worse, a tragedy makes you question if you can make it through.
Warnings: ANGST (with CAPS). 18+ (MDNI). Some heavy topics will be discussed and shown here (please, if you're not in a safe space right now, it's not a good idea to read this). Prison arc, but mostly from Reader's perspective and Emily’s. More detailed under the cut.
Spencer lies to his wife. Drug consumption (against their will). Pregnancy symptoms. Spencer is in jail for more than three months. Hospital visits, doctor’s info dumping (not accurate). Alcohol consumption. Arguing. Strong language. A lot of crying. Emotional breakdowns. A car crash happens (as in the CM storyline). Character dies. More hospital things. Miscarriage. More angst. Depressing symptoms. Mourning. Self-doubt. Suicidal ideation, and almost consummated. Emily is everyone’s emotional support.
A/N: This idea was requested a long time ago, and although I thought about making it shorter, it wouldn't be enough for me. I hope you like it despite all the angst. I tried to make the ending with a light at the end of the road.
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Part I: What You Kept Hiden from Me - January 22nd
Part II: I Wish I Could Do More - January 29th
Part III: Now I'll Keep My Secret - February 5th
Part IV: None of Us is Coming Home Tonight - February 12th
Part V: My Last Chance to Make It Right - February 19th
Part VI: Let Me Hold Your Hand Again - February 26th
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A/N2: I remove my taglist from this one for safety purposes. If you would like to be tagged in the next parts, let me know.
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#dr. spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid angst#spencer reid series
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The Dark Tide Siren!Arthur Morgan x Reader Modern AU Ch 6 - Caught Between Two Worlds Summary: Hosea gathers the team for a meeting to bring everyone up to speed on the facility’s newest resident. But when the discussion turns to Arthur’s behavior, all eyes land on you. How do you explain what you’ve seen—what you’ve felt—without revealing just how deeply involved you’ve become? wc: 8.4k tw: none! Swim Back! ↞ ﹏𓊝﹏ ↠ Sail Ahead!
AN: Get ready for some info dumping about Arthur's biology. Reader is about to discover that he's a whole lot more complicated than meets the eye...
tag list: @photo1030 @v3lv3tf0x @ireallyhonestlydontcare @shygamergirl01 @cloudywithachanceofcrisis @sevikaspuertoricanwife @abducted-cowz @bomdada
I shouldn’t have been surprised when I received the group text from Hosea this morning about an emergency team meeting before doors opened at 8 a.m., but still, my heart raced with worry. No matter how much I tried to prepare myself, the weight of it all just kept pressing in, suffocating. This is real. Soon, the entire facility would know about Arthur—his existence, his pain, his torment. They would want to study him, question him, prod at the mystery of what he was. He was an enigma even to the most renowned scientists, and now, he was no longer a secret.
And he would no longer be mine.
What the hell am I even thinking? Arthur isn’t some kind of pet.
I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting at the thought. Arthur was never mine to begin with. He wasn’t something to be kept, to be held onto. He had spent his life running from chains, from being owned, from being a specimen in a tank just like this. And yet, despite all logic, despite every warning in my mind, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between us this morning.
His words echoed in my mind with every step I took down the long corridor toward the conference room.
The space is nice, bigger than what I had before.
He had said it so simply, so matter-of-factly. But beneath those words was an unspoken truth. It’s still a cage. No walls of glass, no simulated ocean could change that. He didn’t belong here. He should be out there, in the vast, endless blue, moving freely as the tide pulled and pushed him wherever he pleased. He should be collecting treasures and trinkets, hoarding them away in whatever place he called home.
He should be with his own people. If he even knew where to find them.
The way he looked at me—like my gift meant more to him than just a token of my apology, like it was something sacred—it made my chest ache with an emotion I wasn’t ready to acknowledge. I love it, he had said, and I’d never seen his eyes so bright, so full of gratitude and something else—something warm.
But it wasn’t just the shell.
I had a sinking feeling that the shell I gave him was the first and only gift he had ever received. Judging by his reaction, it wasn’t just a trinket to him. He didn’t look at me like I had handed him a scrap of debris washed ashore, something forgotten and discarded by the tide. No, he looked at me like I had just breathed life into his gills after he had spent a lifetime suffocating. Like I had given him something he didn’t know he was allowed to have.
I was opening doors for him that will never close again.
Those crystalline blue eyes—so filled with sorrow and pain—had glimmered, however briefly, with true happiness. Real, unfiltered joy. I just wanted to dive into the water, uncaring if I drowned, and wrap my arms around him. Hold him the way he had never been held before, with a tenderness that he had been denied for too long. To press my cheek to his and whisper the words I knew he had never heard but desperately needed.
You’re safe. You’re free. You’re worthy of love.
But that wasn’t my job.
No, my job was to rescue, rehabilitate, and release. And Arthur was not mine to keep.
Not mine to love.
The weight of that truth pressed heavy in my chest as I forced myself to swallow my nerves, inhaling deeply to steady the storm raging inside me. I could already hear the loud chatter echoing from beyond the glass door, the energy buzzing in the air like static before a storm. It was going to be one hell of a meeting. Not only were we about to confirm that, yes, magical sea creatures—ones that looked half-man, half-fish—actually existed, but more than that, we had one right here in our facility.
And that I had, more than once, drifted too close to him—touched him so intimately that even the tides would whisper of it.
Shaking the thoughts from my head—or at least trying to—I pushed open the door and slipped into the conference room, sliding into a seat beside John.
“This is already shaping up to be a dumpster fire,” John muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You ready for it?”
I let out a slow sigh. “Do I have a choice? You’re the one who dragged me into this mess to begin with.”
John only grinned, shaking his head.
My heart was still hammering against my ribs, but I forced myself to sit tall, to appear unaffected. Normal. Like I hadn’t spent the last twenty-four hours tangled up in something far bigger than myself.
Like I hadn’t spent the night replaying every stolen touch, every lingering glance—fantasizing about his rugged face, the powerful lines of his body, and all the ways I could explore him further—Stop.
I needed to stop. But the more I tried to push him from my mind, the deeper he sank into me, like saltwater soaking into my very bones.
At the front of the room, Charles and Lenny stood beside a double-sided whiteboard, stacks of textbooks and research papers scattered across the table. Lenny had a dry erase marker in his hand, a few more tucked into his breast pocket. He was speaking quietly to Charles, likely bracing himself for the moment he would drop the news of his findings on the rest of the team.
The room quieted as Hosea and Sadie made their way inside, the air shifting with an unspoken gravity. Sadie took a seat opposite me, offering a polite smile and a small tip of her hat. I returned the gesture with a nod and a quick wave, though the anticipation buzzing in the room made it hard to focus on pleasantries.
I swallowed hard, my fingers curling into the fabric of my pants beneath the table. Here we go.
Hosea cleared his throat, resting his hands on the back of an empty chair as he looked around the room. His gaze was warm, familiar—like a father addressing his family.
“Mornin’, everyone. I hope you all got a strong cup of coffee in you because today’s gonna be a big one.” He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “I know I ask a lot from you, but that’s because I know what we’re capable of when we pull together as a team. If there’s anyone who can handle a crisis like this one, it’s the people in this room.”
Hosea straightened, his presence commanding yet reassuring as he met each of our gazes, his voice carrying a weight that settled deep in our chests. It wasn’t just a speech—it was a call to action.
“We’ve got ourselves a new resident. And he’s gonna need us—all of us.”
* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° 。˚𓆛˚。 °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊ *
I had to hand it to Lenny—he gave it to us straight. No sugarcoating, no easing us into the reality of it. Hosea had just dropped the bombshell that our new resident wasn’t like anything we’d ever encountered before. Not just a rare specimen or an undocumented creature, but something entirely new, something that defied the limits of scientific research. There was no guidebook for this. No precedent. Just theories, speculation, and a desperate need to understand.
And that was where Lenny came in.
Charles’ bright young intern had spent the last day and a half buried in textbooks, research papers, mythology records—anything that could shed light on what we were dealing with. He had scoured articles, cross-referenced folklore with science, searching for even the smallest thread of truth woven through centuries of legend.
He pulled together everything he thought would be useful for us to know. But even after all his research, even after countless hours spent dissecting old stories and fragmented knowledge, there was still so much we didn’t know. Because this wasn’t just a new discovery. It was the unraveling of something ancient, something hidden beneath the waves for longer than humans had been searching.
One thing, however, was certain.
Our new resident was only half human. And while we had yet to understand the full extent of his biology, there was no denying the truth Lenny had uncovered. He was, without a doubt, part of a species long spoken of in myths and whispered about in sailor’s tales.
A siren, part of a clan of merfolk.
To my surprise, I found myself completely enraptured by what Lenny had uncovered—every piece of information another thread weaving together the mystery of Arthur. It wasn’t just what Lenny had learned that held my attention, but how much of it I had already seen firsthand. Arthur’s ability to breathe both on land and in water, his dual hearts working in tandem to circulate blood through his gills and body, the mesmerizing bioluminescence that pulsed beneath his skin—things I had experienced up close but hadn’t fully understood.
Then Lenny mentioned something that made my breath hitch. The scale colors and patterns, he explained, weren't universal amongst all sirens. It was specific to certain demographics, a unique adaptation belonging only to particular species. That revelation sent my mind racing—where exactly did Arthur come from? What did that make him? How rare was he, even among his own kind?
And then came the detail that sent murmurs rippling through the room.
“From everything I’ve been able to piece together,” Lenny said, flipping through his notes, “it appears that sirens, at least most—are naturally intersex. Meaning they can reproduce in more than one way.”
Lenny turned the whiteboard around, revealing detailed diagrams and scattered notes. As the board came into view, my breath caught in my throat—this wasn’t just a casual briefing; this was an entire body of research, as if he’d been putting together a puzzle with pieces that shouldn’t fit, but somehow did.
I heard the sharp intake of breath from a few people, the hushed whispers as some struggled to process it. As if that, of all things, was the strangest part about him. I had to bite my tongue to keep from rolling my eyes. They were still trying to grasp the enormity of what was being thrown at them, still coming to terms with the fact that a living, breathing myth was swimming in our tank.
I, on the other hand, had already had the privilege of knowing him—of seeing the depth in those ocean-blue eyes, of hearing the warmth in his voice, of feeling the raw vulnerability he had only ever shown to me. Arthur was so much more than the sum of his strange and wondrous biology.
“Alright, let’s go over the basics,” Lenny began, his voice steady and matter-of-fact, the excitement still hanging in his words. “First, we’ve confirmed that Arthur’s anatomy fits the general description of sirens from several ancient texts and reports. We’ve got a few key details that we still don’t fully understand, but we’re working on it. As long as he’s willing to work with us.”
He pointed to the large diagram of a siren’s anatomy. There were labeled sections showing gills, heart chambers, and the unique structure of their reproductive organs. “As you can see here,” he said, “sirens generally have two penises—yes, two—and they can use them in different ways depending on the situation. One for reproduction, and one that’s used in mating displays, though it’s not entirely clear what triggers which.” He glanced up at the room, letting the words sink in before moving on.
This revelation earned a sarcastic remark from our diver, Sean—delivered with his usual smirk—only for him to be swiftly silenced by a sharp swat from his wife, Karen, our ever-graceful receptionist and greeter. With a pointed look that spoke volumes, she reminded him to keep his quips in check.
I could feel my pulse quicken as I processed the information, knowing this was only the beginning. It wasn’t until he pointed to a section labeled ‘Egg Carrying’ that I felt a chill run down my spine.
“Here’s where it gets interesting,” Lenny continued. “Sirens aren’t exactly mammals. They carry eggs internally, which is how they produce offspring. But given Arthur’s half-human biology, this part of his anatomy is still unconfirmed. We can’t say for sure if he has the ability to reproduce the same way. Though, judging by some traits in the more traditional sirens, it’s entirely possible.”
Lenny uncapped his marker and circled a spot near the siren diagram’s abdomen, where a uterus would typically be. “This is where the eggs are carried, and according to some texts, if they aren’t fertilized during the mating period, the body expels them.” He hesitated for a moment, glancing around the room before adding, “So, uh… basically, they have a menstrual cycle.”
Holy shit. Maybe Arthur and I were more alike than I had ever realized.
The revelation hit me like a tidal wave, dragging me under as my thoughts spiraled. Arthur had told me about his son, but he had spared the details of how he came to be. I had assumed self-fertilization, a clinical, detached process—something he had endured without much choice. But now, hearing that sirens could carry eggs internally, my perception shifted.
Had his body gone through the slow, grueling process of carrying life? Or was it something entirely different, something beyond human comprehension? Did he suffer through the same hormonal shifts, the same aches and exhaustion? Did he experience cramps? Did he bleed? What do siren eggs even look like? Or siren babies?
I was morbidly fascinated by all of it.
But the more I tried to piece it together, the deeper my sympathy for him grew. Reproduction, no matter the species, was taxing—sometimes dangerous, even fatal. And Arthur had done it alone. No support. No comfort. No one to share the weight of it. I swallowed hard, my chest tightening with something heavy and familiar.
What else had he endured in silence?
The more I learned, the more I was filled with unanswered questions and layers of suffering that were beyond my comprehension. My heart ached for Arthur, for the pain he had carried alone and the weight of everything he still bore.
“Now,” he said, tapping the board with a marker. “I want to talk about courtship before we get to the main event. This part is particularly fascinating.” He turned back to the diagram, showing what looked like faint patterns across the skin that followed the nervous system. “This bioluminescence plays a huge part in their mating rituals. It’s used to signal attraction and readiness, much like a bird flashing its feathers. And the patterns and brightness can change based on mood, emotions, or desire.”
I thought back to Arthur, the way his lights had flickered when he was near me, when I touched him, how they pulsed in time with his heartbeat. My breath caught in my throat. He hadn’t just been reacting to the environment—
He’d been reacting to me.
“Then there’s the purring,” Lenny added, tapping the board again on the chest region of his diagram. “Sirens, like most marine creatures, have a complex system of vocalizations, but purring in this context isn’t just a sign of contentment. It’s also an expression of affection, a way of signaling comfort and safety. It seems to be most common in pairs who are actively courting. The sound can be low, almost subsonic, and is used to build intimacy and trust.”
I thought back to the moments when Arthur’s purring reverberated in the water, the sensation so deep and primal it sent a shiver through me, like a current running beneath my skin. I could still feel it, the vibrating hum, echoing in my chest, stirring something inside me.
Had I truly made him feel safe enough to express it? The thought warmed my heart. But then again, how much of it had been instinctual? Had I been too naïve to recognize the signs?
Gods, everything I had found so utterly fascinating, so enchanting about him, turned out to be a part of a mating ritual. My heart twisted as I realized how blind I had been. He’d told me—Arthur had literally told me—that he was struggling to control his lights, that it was mating season for him, that his body was flooding with hormones and urges he was trying so desperately to tame.
I felt like an idiot. I should have put the pieces together sooner. Instead, I had been mesmerized by his allure, consumed by an attraction that now seemed to carry so much more weight than I had ever fully understood.
“Finally,” Lenny said, his voice softening, pulling me from my thoughts. “There’s the tradition of gift-giving.”
I felt a pair of eyes burning into me, and when I glanced around the room, I saw Charles standing by the door. He was leaning casually against the frame, as if he was still absorbed in Lenny’s lesson, but his eyes—those warm, steady eyes—were fixed directly on me.
Heat crept up my neck and flooded my cheeks as I met his gaze, and I could feel the weight of everything unspoken between us. The things we hadn’t addressed, the unacknowledged tension. Charles had seen it all—he had witnessed the way Arthur’s lights had flickered with intensity when he was losing control in the exam room. And more than that, he had seen the way Arthur responded to me, to my touch.
The connection that neither of us had been able to fully understand or express.
It felt like there was something unsaid hanging in the air, a heaviness that pressed down on my chest, suffocating in its silence. I didn’t know if he was concerned, or if it was something else—something neither of us wanted to confront. I couldn’t deny the pull I felt toward Arthur, nor the conflicting emotions that surged through me every time I thought of him.
But having Charles watch me like this, with that knowing look in his eyes, made it feel like there was nowhere for me to hide this secret.
And that scared me more than I cared to admit.
“In many of the texts, siren culture places a lot of emphasis on actions rather than words. Since most typically aren't capable of human speech. Giving an offering is their way of accepting courtship, of sharing mutual desire. Letting their partner know they wish to mate.”
The abalone shell.
I had found it yesterday at Clemens Cove with Charles, sharing the familiar rhythm of one of our walks along the beach. Grounding me in a moment of comfort amidst uncertainty. But when I picked it up, something in me shifted. It reminded me of Arthur. I wanted to give it to him as a peace offering, an apology for what had transpired between us.
The words had slipped out before I even had time to question them.
Charles had been there when I found it, and when I told him my intention, his eyes never left mine. His silence spoke volumes, and I realized then that I had made things more complicated than I intended. Without another word, I knew I had dug myself into a deep grave—one that would be harder to climb out of than I ever imagined.
* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° 。˚𓆛˚。 °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊ *
The room erupted in a flood of chaos the moment Lenny opened the floor for questions.
“I mean, this is absolutely insane,” Mary-Beth breathed, practically vibrating in her seat. “But c’mon guys…a real siren, here? Like, in our facility? This is history in the making! We could be famous for this discovery! I can’t wait to see him in person, when do we get to meet him!?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Tilly interjected, her expression thoughtful as she tapped her pen against her notebook. “I want to know more about his biology. How much of him is human, and how much is—well, not?” She scribbled something onto the page, “we don’t even know where he comes from. What he’s capable of.”
Mary-Beth and Tilly were part of the same internship program as Lenny, fresh-faced college students eager to make their mark in the marine biology world. Their primary focus was in the nursery, caring for orphaned animals and tending to eggs that had been abandoned or rescued. While their work was vastly different from mine, their passion for marine life was undeniable.
Mary-Beth, ever the optimist, had an almost childlike wonder for every creature she encountered—she fell in love with every baby animal that came through our doors and had a tendency to get attached to them before we could even determine if they’d stay.
Tilly, on the other hand, was more analytical, fascinated by behavioral psychology and genetics. While Mary-Beth was eager to meet Arthur, Tilly was more intrigued by what made him tick. I could already see the gears turning in her mind as she scraped her pen against her notebook, likely running through all the questions she wanted to ask, theories she wanted to test. If anyone in this facility was going to deep-dive into his instincts, it was her.
Across the table, Kieran shifted uncomfortably in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh—hate to be the one to ask, but, is he…dangerous?” His voice was quieter than the rest, but the weight of the question settled over the group like a net. “I mean, I know we’re all excited, but the guy’s got sharp claws and even sharper teeth. And from what I’ve heard he’s big. Do we know exactly what we’re dealing with here?”
“Big’s an understatement,” Sean chimed in, leaning back in his chair with an easy grin. “Lad’s probably built like a goddamn shipwreck with a grudge. No offense, but if he decides he don’t like us, we’re all just chum in the water.”
Kieran was the facility’s fisherman, a quiet and steady presence who kept our patients well-fed. Whether he was out on his boat catching fresh fish himself or working with local fisheries to secure a steady supply, he took pride in his work and ensured that every animal in our care had exactly what they needed to thrive. He wasn’t much of a talker, often preferring the solitude of the open water to the chatter of the breakroom, but when he did speak, it was always with careful consideration.
His concern now was understandable—he had seen firsthand what some of our more predatory rescues were capable of, and Arthur was unlike anything we had ever encountered.
Sean, on the other hand, was Kieran’s polar opposite. As the facility’s diver, he spent most of his time underwater, handling cleanings, repairs, and the occasional rescue operation. He also had a flair for showmanship, leading live demonstrations where visitors could watch him feed the larger fish up close. While Kieran kept his worries close to his chest, Sean wasn’t afraid to voice his own—with a sharp tongue and a grin that often landed him in trouble. He had never met a situation he couldn’t joke his way out of, but there was an edge to his words now, an undercurrent of truth beneath the humor.
“Sean.” Karen shot her husband a pointed look, swatting his arm. “You’re not helping.”
He smirked but held up his hands in surrender. “I’m just sayin’! You all saw those diagrams—two hearts, sharp teeth, glowing like the bloody deep sea. Fascinatin’ sure, but let’s not pretend we aren’t one bad day away from a Discovery Channel special.”
Karen was essentially the glue that held this facility together. Officially, she was the receptionist and greeter, the first warm smile visitors saw when they walked through our doors. But in reality, she was so much more than that. She handled everything from scheduling meetings and coordinating tours to reaching out to local news outlets to spread the word about our latest rescues. She even ran the facility’s social media accounts, curating updates and behind-the-scenes glimpses that helped connect our work to the outside world.
She was a force to be reckoned with. With a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue, especially when it came to keeping Sean in line. While her husband had a tendency to run his mouth, Karen had mastered the art of keeping him just reined in enough to avoid disaster—most of the time. Even now, as Sean leaned back in his chair with a smirk, adding fuel to the fire of Kieran’s concerns, Karen was the one to keep things balanced.
Karen rolled her eyes before turning back to Lenny. “Okay, but seriously—what does he eat? Is Kieran gonna have to go out there and wrestle a shark for him or what?”
Kieran paled. “W-wait, what?”
The room roared with voices once again, each one trying to speak over the other.
“Nobody’s going to be feeding him any sharks,” The room quieted as Charles' steady voice cut through the noise, silencing the lingering tension in the air. Kieran relaxed, exhaling slowly as the weight of his concerns seemed to lift. Charles gave a small nod, as if reassuring him and everyone else in the room.
“As for his behavior and temperament,” he continued, gaze sweeping over the group, “there’s still a lot we don’t know. He could be dangerous, but so far he’s given us no reason to believe he wants to cause any harm.”
There was a brief pause, and then Charles turned to face me, his eyes locking with mine. I blinked, a sudden wave of unease crashing over me.
“And as for the interaction we’ve been having with him,” he followed with my name, his voice now directed at me. “You seem to be the only one he trusts right now. How is he responding to you? Have you seen any signs of aggression that we need to be aware of?”
I froze. What the fuck, Charles?
The question hit me like a jolt of electricity, and for a split second, I was completely blindsided. I hadn’t prepared for this—not in the slightest. The thought of speaking to the entire team about my interactions with Arthur hadn’t even crossed my mind. They hadn’t told me I would be briefing everyone on the strange, quiet bond I was forming with him.
Was he asking about his outburst from last night? How was I even supposed to answer this? What could I possibly say without overstepping, without sounding...too involved?
The room seemed to tilt just slightly as all eyes turned toward me. I could feel the weight of their stares like a physical force, pressing down on me, and my throat constricted, making it harder to breathe.
Was Charles expecting me to share everything? To expose every detail of what had happened between Arthur and me? Did he want me to explain how Arthur had only seemed to trust me, how he responded to my voice with such... desperate hope? How he allowed me to touch him without flinching, like my hands had some kind of soothing magic he hadn’t known before? The thought of explaining those moments—the raw, intimate pieces of his existence that I was now learning to navigate—made me freeze even further.
I wasn't ready to voice all this out loud in front of everyone.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I fumbled for the right words, the right tone. I wanted to be honest, to tell them what I had seen—but how much should I reveal? How much was too much? I hadn’t fully processed how much Arthur’s behavior affected me, how much his actions had been stirring something deep inside my heart. It wasn’t just about him being a ‘new species’—it was about the trust he had shown me despite everything he’d been through.
Taking a steadying breath, I finally spoke, “Well for starters, his name is Arthur. And he is…unique. But from what I’ve seen, he’s not acting out of malice. He’s more… confused, conflicted—hurting.” I explained, finding my voice.
“He’s very slow to trust. There have been moments when he’s unsure of himself, especially when he’s around others or feels vulnerable. But there’s been no violence. I think we just need to give him time to adjust. To get to know us.”
I swallowed hard, my words feeling like they came from somewhere deeper than I had expected. “Arthur’s not a threat—at least not in the way we’re worried about. But he’s struggling, he’s running from something I’m still only beginning to understand. And I think...I think he’s just looking for a place to belong. There is humanity in him, and despite his looks he is deeply gentle. But he’s smart too, he feels things like any person would.”
“He’s got a smart mouth, that’s for sure,” John quipped with a grin, his sarcastic remark helping to ease some of my nerves. It was a relief to know I wasn’t the only one starting to grow fond of Arthur, that I wasn’t alone in building trust and a sense of friendship with him.
“He’s been held in captivity for so long, and hurt by some really bad people.” I continued, my gaze shifting between Hosea and Sadie. “Arthur’s truly something magnificent, and I hope you all get a chance to bond with him. But right now, he needs us to pull it together to keep him safe.”
I glanced around the room, meeting their gazes, trying to convey the sincerity of my words. There was a long silence before Charles nodded, his expression thoughtful but unreadable. He had a way of making you feel like you were being examined, dissected, even when he wasn’t saying anything at all.
“Thank you for that assessment,” he said finally, his voice softer. “We’ll take that into account moving forward. But keep us updated, alright? We can’t afford to overlook anything, not with all the unknowns.”
I nodded, grateful for his understanding, but still feeling the heavy responsibility weighing on me. I had to keep walking that fine line, between what was right for the team and what was right for Arthur—and for myself.
* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° 。˚𓆛˚。 °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊ *
After Lenny stumbled through his answers to the team’s questions, trying his best to keep up with their curiosity and concern, it became clear that the facility couldn’t stay in limbo forever. Visitors were scheduled to arrive, and life needed to continue—so, everyone else returned to their duties, getting back to the normal rhythm of their work. Except for us.
We had to be careful about what we shared. The details of Arthur’s healing ability were kept under wraps for now, and we omitted the specifics about the man and group of scientists who had exploited and tortured him. It was already a lot for the team to process, and we didn’t need to send them into a full-blown panic before we had a better grasp on everything ourselves.
Sadie paced the room, her boots echoing in the quiet as she mentally ran through the details she’d gathered. Every fact and piece of evidence was a thread she was pulling together to form a clearer picture. She wasn’t one to speak lightly when it came to her investigations, and she needed to be thorough.
With a glance to the others—Hosea, John, Charles, and myself—she cleared her throat before continuing.
“I’ve dug into Dutch Van der Linde’s background. And let me tell you, he’s a slippery one. This man knows how to cover his tracks.” She paused for a beat, letting that sink in. “Most of what I’ve managed to dig up is several years old, but it paints a clear picture. Last we heard of him was out of a place called Blackwater. Authorities got a tip that he was running some kind of laboratory. A facility that used a lot of saltwater and electricity.”
Her gaze hardened, lips pressing into a tight line. “Now, you know as well as I do what that means when it comes to wildlife—hell, any kind of life. He was holding aquatic animals in conditions that were, to put it plainly, illegal. Overcrowded tanks, improper filtration, and not a single care about environmental regulations. One can only imagine how bad it got.”
I felt my stomach churn with nausea, the image of Arthur in those conditions was too much to bear.
Sadie went on, her voice sharp and focused. “Things went south in that lab. I can’t say for sure what exactly happened, but from what I’ve gathered, it was bad enough that people died. Authorities found broken glass, empty tanks, signs of a hasty cover-up. It looked like some kind of accident at first. But Dutch? He covered his tracks, moved his operation, and disappeared without a trace.”
She gave us a hard look. “We don’t know where he’s gone since, but one thing’s for sure—he’s not someone who’s gonna stop just because we’re onto him now.”
The room hung in tense silence, the weight of Sadie’s words settling over us like a thick fog. She laid out the stark reality of our situation, outlining the two paths we were facing. One was the faint hope that Dutch might just disappear—forget about Arthur and move on to exploit another poor creature, leaving us to breathe easy.
But the second option, the one that seemed far more likely given everything Arthur had shared about him, was more sinister. Dutch wouldn’t stop until he found Arthur, until he took back what he believed he had a right to possess.
“I’ve got my people keeping their eyes open,” Sadie continued, her tone steady, but her gaze never wavering from us. “But for now, you need to keep quiet about your new resident. Word travels fast, and the last thing we need is for this to reach the wrong ears.”
Hosea nodded, his face thoughtful. “Thank you for doing this, Sadie. We’re taking a great risk here, but it eases my mind to know you’re on our side.”
Sadie offered a polite smile, but before she could speak again, John abruptly stood up from his chair, his frustration boiling over. “So that’s it? We’re just supposed to sit here like sitting ducks, waiting for this psychopath to show up and demand his so-called pet back?” His voice was sharp.
Hosea, ever the calm mediator, began to speak, but John cut him off. His eyes flashed with a fire that came from more than just frustration—there was something raw and deeply personal in his voice. “I’m serious. What the hell do we do if this guy shows up at our doorstep? Are we supposed to just call PETA and have him tried for animal cruelty? Is Arthur supposed to testify in a court? Come on, what’s the plan here? Where exactly do we stand in this? I need to understand how your people will stop this from happening.”
His words echoed in the room, hitting each of us in a different way. For a moment, I felt the same heat in my chest, the urgency in John's voice igniting a similar fire in me. This wasn’t just about Arthur—his presence put everyone at risk. We were faced with a man who had no conscience, no moral compass, just an insatiable need to control and exploit.
I could see the tension in John’s stance, the way his hands gripped the back of his chair as if holding on to something solid. He wasn’t the type to back down, and I couldn’t help but admire his unwavering commitment to justice—even if it was the kind that burned with reckless abandon. I had no doubt that we would all fight, but the road ahead was far from clear.
Hosea sighed deeply, his voice steady but laced with the weight of everything he knew was at stake. “John’s right to be worried. We’re not equipped to handle this kind of threat. We don’t have the resources or manpower to go toe-to-toe with someone like Dutch. We’re a small facility, and this isn’t something any of us are used to. But we’ll figure it out. I’ll be damned if that poor boy has to suffer any longer” His gaze shifted to me, a silent understanding passing between us.
We both understood how much was on the line.
Sadie nodded, her expression softening but never losing its edge of professionalism. “I get it, Hosea. Believe me, I do. But sometimes, the best we can do is wait and watch, be prepared for when he shows up. I’m putting feelers out there—keeping an eye on the local networks, my contacts in the field. But Dutch is a ghost. He’s good at disappearing when he wants to. We can’t go running around in circles panicking until we have something concrete.”
I couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “So you’re saying we just… wait? And pray he doesn’t come after Arthur?” My voice cracked slightly, but I didn’t care. “What happens if he does show up? We can’t just give up and let Dutch take him.”
Sadie’s eyes softened with something akin to sympathy, but her face remained hard with resolve. “You’re not wrong.” She paused, glancing at the others in the room, her eyes lingering on me for a moment longer. “What I can promise you is this—if Dutch comes for Arthur, if he makes a move, I’ll be here. We’ll all be here. You won’t be facing this alone.”
Hosea placed a hand on the table, leaning into it slightly, his voice firm. “We can’t risk making any rash decisions. Arthur's safety is our priority, we’ll keep him under wraps for now, and gather more information. As much as I hate waiting, it’s what we have to do. For his well being—and for ours.”
I nodded slowly, absorbing their words. I understood what they were trying to say. They were trying to protect Arthur in the only way they knew how. But there was still that gnawing feeling in my gut, the fear that Dutch might already be closer than we realized.
"Alright," I said, standing up from my seat. "But when the time comes, we act. No hesitation. We make sure that when Dutch shows up, we’re ready for him." The words felt strange in my mouth, but they were the truth.
“I made a promise to Arthur that he would never endure that kind of suffering again. And I will do whatever it takes to ensure that promise is kept.”
Sadie looked at me for a long moment before nodding, her expression tight with conviction "Undertsood."
* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° 。˚𓆛˚。 °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊ *
As the last of the visitors trickled out and the automatic doors slid shut, a familiar exhaustion settled deep in my bones. But it wasn’t the same kind of exhaustion that had weighed me down in recent days. This was different—earned through hard work, the kind that came with purpose. A full day of routine tasks, keeping my hands busy, my mind occupied. And for what felt like the first time in days, my thoughts weren’t consumed by Arthur.
I moved through the motions—wiping down counters, locking up equipment, double-checking protocols—before making my way to the break room. My locker door creaked open, and as I grabbed my things, I fished my phone from my pocket. My fingers hovered over the screen for only a moment before I typed in one word.
Captain.
The familiar text thread popped to the top of my messages, and without hesitation, I typed:
Charles, we need to talk.
I hit send, pulling on my jacket and slinging my bag over my shoulder. I already knew where he was—likely in his office, finishing up for the night. So I waited, taking my time as I walked. My phone buzzed in my hand.
Meet in the tunnel? ~CS
A quiet sigh left my lips as I read the message. The tunnel. Of course.
Easily one of the most breathtaking parts of the facility, the tunnel was a curved, glass-walled corridor where guests could walk beneath the water. The sea life surrounded them on all sides, illuminated by the soft glow of artificial reef structures designed to mimic the ocean floor. Stingrays glided like silent phantoms through the currents, schools of fish shimmered in the dim light, and for a moment, stepping inside felt like being transported to another world.
See you there.
I tucked my phone away and started down the hall, feeling the weight of the conversation ahead settling on my shoulders.
Charles stood with an easy sort of stillness, hands tucked into his pockets, eyes trained on the glass where a pair of clownfish darted in and out of a pink anemone. The soft glow of the tunnel lights cast a faint shimmer against the water, reflecting off the corals in a wash of muted color. At the sound of my approaching footsteps, he turned slightly, his face lighting up with a small, familiar smile before his gaze flickered back to the fish.
“Did you know female clownfish leave the nest after they mate and lay their eggs? The male stays behind to guard them until they hatch,” he mused, his voice carrying the weight of thought rather than idle conversation. His eyes never left the tiny creatures, but I could tell his mind was somewhere else. Drifting beyond the glass, beyond the tunnel, caught in some invisible current of contemplation. “Sometimes I wonder what the advantage is in her leaving. Surely they’d be better off as a pair, keeping the young safe together.”
I stepped up beside him, folding my arms as I watched the fish weave through the anemone’s swaying tendrils, completely immune to its stinging nematocyst defenses.
“Well,” I started, mirroring his thoughtful tone, “maybe she just wasn’t ready for it. Eitherway, clownfish can change their sex. So—I guess if he really wanted to, he could become female and go find a new mate. Start over. Do things better than his traitorous ex-partner.”
A short chuckle left Charles’ lips, but there was something wry about it. “Until something bigger comes along and makes a meal out of them both.”
I smirked, though my chest felt heavy. “Ah, the circle of life. Beautiful, isn’t it?”
The words hung between us, lighthearted in tone but laced with something heavier, unspoken. Beneath the easy rhythm of our banter, something churned beneath the surface. Something neither of us were quite ready to say out loud.
We stood there in silence, the glow of the water casting shifting patterns across the floor, before I finally gave in to the question that had been gnawing at me all day.
“Charles, why’d you throw me into the flames like that during the meeting?”
His brow furrowed, caught off guard. “I—what? What are you talking about?”
“Don’t be like that, you know what I’m talking about.” I sighed and dropped onto one of the viewing benches, rubbing my temples. “I already hate public speaking, and no one told me I’d have to stand up there and explain myself. I mean…I’ve hardly wrapped my head around this, Charles! I thought we were just there to go over the basics, get everyone up to speed on the whole… situation.” I waved a hand vaguely through the air, but we both knew exactly what I meant.
Charles hesitated for a fraction of a second, then shrugged. “You were there when he was found, you were there when I removed the harpoon tip. If anyone’s qualified to speak on this, it’s you.” He paused, then added, “Besides, you seem to be getting along pretty well with him.”
It wasn’t just a passing observation or a simple truth—I knew him better than that. He made a point to say it, not just to me, but to the entire team.
I let out a scoff, shaking my head. “So that’s why you called me out? Because I’ve been trying to be a friend to him?”
Charles turned to face me fully now, his expression unreadable but sharp with something I couldn’t quite place. “I wanted to remind you that it’s dangerous. We still have no idea what that thing’s capable of.”
A slow, seething heat crept up my neck. “Thing?”
His jaw tensed. “You know what I meant.”
“Do I?” My voice was quiet, but there was a bite to it. A challenge.
He didn’t back down. “He’s been here less than two days, and you look at him like—”
“Like he’s a damn person, Charles,” I cut him off, standing now, anger pushing me to my feet. “Not a thing, not a monster, not something dangerous. What’s dangerous is the people who captured him and tortured him for his entire life.” My breath was coming too fast, but I couldn’t stop. “Arthur has known nothing but pain and loneliness. If it’s against policy to make our patients feel safe, then call Hosea and tell him to fire me.”
Charles exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair, frustration etched into every line of his face. But beneath it—beneath the argument, beneath the fear and the worry—I saw it.
He meant well. And that was the most infuriating part.
“You think I don’t understand that?” Charles shot back, his voice tight with restraint. “You think I don’t see what’s been done to him? What he’s been through?” He took a step closer, his tone lowering, but no less intense. “I do. And that’s exactly why I’m worried.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he wasn’t done.
“You’re not just some observer in all of this—you’re in deep, deeper than you even realize,” Charles said, his voice heavy with something between frustration and concern. “I know your heart is in the right place, but damn it, you can’t act like you’re the only one who cares.” He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply as though struggling to rein in emotions he wasn’t ready to share. “I’m not telling you what to do, but I need you to see the bigger picture. I know you feel something for him, but this—this is far bigger than that.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but his words hung in the air, leaving me frozen. The weight of his tone cut deeper than I expected, and for the first time in a while, I wasn’t sure what to say. I had been so caught up in my own emotions, my own frustration, that I hadn’t stopped to see his.
“W-what feelings?” I stammered, feeling like I was losing ground. The way he looked at me—the understanding, the depth—made me feel exposed. Those brown eyes, usually warm, now felt like they were peeling back layers I didn’t want to confront.
Charles sighed, almost tenderly, as though he’d known this would be difficult. “You think I don’t know your heart? Know that look?” His voice softened as he said my name, but the words were weighted with something older, more painful. “I know you. And whether you like it or not, I care about you more than that damn fish. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
The sincerity in his voice hit me harder than I expected, the raw emotion underlying his words pulling at something inside me. His care, his concern—they were clear, and I could no longer pretend they didn’t matter.
Gathering his things, Charles turned to leave, his footsteps echoing faintly in the tunnel. "Just promise me you’ll be cautious about this. And if anything, anything happens that frightens you, you come to me about it first. Okay?" His words lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken.
I nodded without thinking, not sure if I meant it or if I was just too exhausted to argue anymore. As the door to the tunnel closed behind him, I leaned back on the bench, my eyes drifting to the vast tank before me. The room felt suddenly colder, emptier, and I let out a slow breath, closing my eyes.
The weight of everything—Charles’ warnings, my own confusion, Arthur’s presence—settled on my shoulders.
When I opened my eyes again, the room had darkened, a large shadow casting itself across the walls like the slow approach of a storm. Lifting my head, my breath caught in my throat as I saw him—Arthur—watching me just beyond the glass.
The world came to a standstill as I took in the sight of him, an otherworldly presence that seemed to dominate the space. He hovered there, still and silent, his powerful form fully illuminated by the dying light of the setting sun.
Beautiful didn’t even begin to describe him.
His body glistened in the dimming glow, long hair rippling ever so slightly with the water’s motion. The vibrant colors of his tail were like nothing I had ever seen before—rich blues and purples that shimmered against the darker water, pulsing with life that gave him the appearance of a phantom rising from the depths.
Arthur was the water, and the water was him. Like he was born to be exactly this, fierce and indescribable. Gills and fins delicately waving with each movement of the current, floating upright. He spanned almost the entire length of the glass, and seeing him like this I realized just how small and insignificant I was in comparison.
He is the ocean.
The golden orange light from the sun filtered through the water, casting an ethereal glow that made his form appear almost heavenly, like something from a legend. The intricate patterns of his scales caught the light, transforming him into a figure of pure elegance and power.
The glass between us felt like a thin barrier between two worlds. One human and one far beyond my understanding.
My heart raced as I sat there, rooted to the spot. His deep blue eyes, so full of life and yet so distant, never left mine. They spoke of something ancient, something vast, and in that moment, it was as if the entire world had narrowed down to just him and me.
His pull, my need, and everything unknown between us—pressed down on me like the ocean itself.
AN: Big shoutout to @photo1030 for giving me some devious ideas about Charles and the reader having a romantic history. I knew I wanted him to play a bigger role in this, but now I’m fully invested in him having some conflicted feelings about Arthur and the reader. Let me know what you guys think!
Oh! Also, I hope the egg-menses/double-dick thing isn’t too weird for some folks. It’s typical in a monster romance to have odd genitalia and means of reproducing. In my humble opinion, it’s what makes it so intriguing to read (and write!) As a biologist, I relate to the reader a lot, I too am morbidly fasciated by the limits of science.
We’ll see our sweet fish boy again in the next chapter, got some really sweet/hot scenes cooking 😋
#arthur morgan#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#rdr2 fanfic#ao3 fanfic#arthur morgan x reader#red dead fandom#ao3#monster x human#monster au#monster romance#arthur morgan x you#siren x reader#siren au#rdr2 modern au#charles smith#john marston
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Thinking about Buggy, and the Cross Guild specifically.
Like. The fanfkcs are good. But I have yet to find some that touch on some generalized headcanons and the byproducts thereof.
Autistic Mihawk? YES!! But give me Mihawk who has more autistic traits than just the generalized blank stare and monotone voice. Give me Mihawk who, when actually invested in something, struggles with volume control. Give me Mihawk who can and WILL info dump when given a chance - about the history of swordsmanship, maybe even gardening, give him hyperfixations. Give him some textures he will just touch and touch and touch, and some which he'll quite literally shrivel up and die if he has to touch.
Crocodile has all his Bananwanis and maybe even breeds them? Yes! But give me Crocodile being a Reptile Dad. Give me Croc who loves on and trains the 'Wanis, who is adamant on their care and knowledgeable about them. Give me Crocodile who is trans and occasionally has moments of dysphoria even after Ivankov's miracle hormone treatment. He passes as Cis, sure, but sometimes the KNOWING is the worst. Give me Crocodile whose safe space is with his pets, who loves them and is loved by them in turn.
Buggy being smarter than he lets on is always peak. But people often boil it down to selective intelligence, and give him no other skill sets. Give me Buggy who is sensory seeking, autistic and whose special interests are in chemistry, explosives, circuses, and the like. Buggy who LOVES bright, clashing colors because it makes his eyes happy, who stims using his Devil Fruit, and who is actually a very good cook - he thinks of it as chemistry and art. He's had a LOT of practice as well.
Now let's mix them. Give me kinesthetic stimming Buggy and Mihawk. Give me them sharing their favorite stims and finding new ones. Give me them sharing in stimming, give me Buggy dragging Mihawk to the aerial equipment and teaching him to use it. Give me them just finding a niche and enjoying themselves. Give me Buggy and Mihawk finding a new common ground that neither expected but they are so so so happy for.
Give me Crocodile learning their likes and dislikes. Giving me him throwing out one waist coat without hesitation bc Buggy huggy him once, snuggled close and gagged when it touched his skin. Give me him replacing all the velvet in his room because this one kind is bad for Mihawk, but this other one is absolutely bewitching to the swordsman. Give me him just wordlessly putting up these multicolored fairy lights and not saying anything when Buggy asks him why, just pushes the clown down into the bed, clicks them on, and says "you need to calm down, you've been up since yesterday."
Give me Mihawk and Buggy in turn Recognizing when Croc had bad days and learning to help massage his stump. Give me Buggy experimenting with herbs and lotions until he makes one himself that will help with the pain and fits all the sensory needs of everyone involved.
Just. Yes. Cross Guild Poly. But give me the behind the scenes domestic stuff because THAT is where the dopamine is.
#buggy#dracule mihawk#sir crocodile#one piece#cross guild#autistic Buggy#autistic mihawk#cross guild polycule#domestic pirate polycule#*kisses your forehead for reading this far*
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Loki x Autistic!Partner Headcannons
Please be aware these are based off my own experiences with autism as a late diagnosed, cis woman. No autistic person is the same. Don’t take this as advice.
You finally got the diagnosis, after years of feeling like there was something missing, something not clicking… And then finally, it made sense.
When you told Loki, well, he looked at you strangely. Confused. Sure, you were a little ‘quirky’ (what a classic descriptor used), had your… habits. Why did mortals have a word for everything?
“It doesn’t change anything.” Loki had told you. You knew he meant well, you knew how he meant it.
“But it does. In a way.” You’d told him. It meant you now had the chance to make changes, to adjust, set boundaries in your life.
You were getting ready for bed when you saw a book on the bedside table that you didn’t recognise. Loki had a habit of leaving his books lying around. But typically they were all old looking, massive ancient texts with the occasional modern novel. Moving towards the table, you picked it up, eyeing the title.
“I wanted to read up on it.” Loki spoke from the doorway, seeing you turn to look at it. “Understand. Help.” He said softly, slowly approaching. “Make sure that I can do everything that I can to make life easier.” He paused. “Which I know sounds ridiculous coming from the God of Mischief who is renown for doing the exact opposite.” He smirked, tone teasing.
You felt a warmth in your chest, seeing the genuine care in his actions, his words. Putting the book down, you closed the distance between you both, giving him a hug. Loki instantly wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, a small soft smile on his lips.
“I know it’s not the same…” He began quietly. “But… I know how it feels to be… on the outside.” He paused. “To feel like… you are always trying to find a place to fit in. Wishing you could be understood.” His hand soothingly rubbed your back. “But…” His lips tugged upwards faintly. “Then I found you and you made me feel like I belonged.”
And of course, he did the same for you. It was amazing how one person could make you feel that way.
Loki was a man who was both impatient and patient, but with you, he was always the latter. Sure, there were time when he got frustrated - but never at you. It was at himself, at the fact he couldn’t simply magic any problems you faced away (literally and metaphorically).
When you go quiet, he doesn’t force you to try to speak, or try to engage you in conversation, knowing that you just need time and space and quiet. But he will sit with you. And of course, give you plenty of hugs if that’s what you needed.
He feels a warmth spread through him whenever he sees you happy stim, it never fails to bring a smile to his face. If you’re happy, he’s happy.
Loki always laughs with you, not at you.
The first time he see’s you having a meltdown tears at his heart. He does his absolute best to help calm you down, but knows there’s boundaries and is always conscious of what he says or does in those situations. He doesn’t crowd you, even if his first instinct is to wrap you in his arms and hug you, make you feel safe - but he knows that isn’t always what you need.
After a while, he began to pick up on the small things, the tiny details that told him you were becoming overwhelmed or frustrated, instantly allowing you to take the reins and tell him what you need and want to ensure you didn’t get to the point of a meltdown.
Loki never treats you like a child. He’d read about how common it is for people to do that, and the notion seemed utterly absurd to him.
Oh, he loved hearing you info-dump and talk about your interests. He loved seeing the way your eyes lit up, the way you spoke so passionately and enthusiastically about them.
“Sorry, I was rambling-“ You’d say sheepishly, making Loki furrow his brows. “No, no, continue. Please.” He’d encourage, nodding with a small smile. “I want to know.”
And of course, you could listen to him speak about magic for hours. You loved seeing him be passionate about such things too, his facial expressions, the quips he’d make about how people didn’t know the difference between ‘duplicate casting’ and ‘illusion projection’.
“Honestly, it’s not that hard to understand.” “They’re clearly completely two different things.” “It’s insulting.”
He’d cast illusions of the night sky on the ceiling, fluttering butterflies, small fireworks… anything that made your eyes light up. He’ll bring you some form of calm.
When you got snappy or agitated, he’d bite his tongue. His instinct was to quip back - he was still Loki after all. But he understood that it wasn’t personal, it wasn’t him. And so over time, the defensiveness would wane, and he’d simply give you space or whatever you need.
You understood each other. As Loki had said, it was different circumstances, but he knew how it felt to be seen as the ‘outsider’, not feeling like he quite fit in but didn’t understand why - until he, of course, found out his true heritage.
But there was a kinship there. He knew how lonely and isolating it could feel to be seen as ‘different’. And he never wanted you to feel that with him. And you never wanted him to feel that with you.
He found you comforting. Calming even. Like a solace to the soul. Through the good and the bad.
You’d told him about your childhood, how you never felt like you fit in, couldn’t work out why other children weren’t as nice to you or wouldn’t let you play with them at break time. Even when they did, it never was what you wanted to do or suggested. Always playing by their rules.
Loki could relate to that. Growing up with Thor and the others… He always preferred reading and learning magic over the more… boisterous activities they would prefer. And he always felt like he was just there because of Thor.
You told him about how you went through your teen years being confused about everything and anything. The turmoil of emotions you had no understanding of yet, why you felt so tired, sad, angry and alone. It broke his heart to know you had gone through such things, to know you had ‘changed’ yourself to try and fit in with others expectations and ideals.
Yes, he also understood that feeling rather well too.
“You know you never have to do that with me, right?” Loki had asked, never wanting you to feel that way with him.
“Am I too much?” You’d once asked him, and the look on your face - the fact you’d even asked him - tugged at his heartstrings.
“Maybe.” Loki said softly, noticing your face drop for a moment before he quickly added: “But-“ Making you look up at him, brows furrowing. “You’re my too much.” He told you, eyes crinkling faintly. “And I know I’m quite a handful, so I do hope I’m also your too much.” He’d add playfully, making you smile. “Seems like we’re each others ‘too much’ then.” You mused lightly.
(Last quote is from/based on Heartbreak High)
#loki x reader#loki laufeyson x reader#loki headcanons#Loki#loki laufeyson#loki imagine#marvel loki#loki odinson#loki x you
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IM FINALLY MAKING AN ACTUAL INTRO POST!!! YIPPEEE!!! 🥳✨
(Ignore the fucked up lettering)
ANYWHIZZLE!! I’m River!! Or starr or jade or whatever you wanna call me idc I’m indecisive lolz :b
My pronouns are She/her!!
Art tag is #starstickerzzzartz
Text post tag is #starspeakz
Random facts about me:
🌟my favorite color is dark cherry red
🌟my favorite animal is a tanuki
🌟My music taste is mostly alternative or indie anything and other random shit especially stuff that reminds me of or is connected to a fandom I enjoy !!
🌟I love dad jokes and humor in general,one of my favorite things to do is to make people laugh
🌟I would genuinely sacrifice myself in a second for the people I care about
🌟my favorite drink is coffee
🌟my favorite dessert is mochi of any kind
🌟my favorite food is Mexican food and Easy shit like ramen
🌟I grew up surrounded by Mexican culture and love to speak Spanish or use Spanish words (lmk if I accidentally say something you don’t understand lol)
🌟I’m actually Russian tho
🌟I’m in the us tho lol :b
I am adhd (and many other diagnoses and neurodivergencies but we don’t gotta talk abt that rn I’m fucked up lol) and I’m EXTREMELY hyperfixated on rottmnt,sonic and mob phyco 100!! :3 (edit:I also love Creepypasta/marble hornets!!!!)
I also like other fandoms like dog man and other stuff as u will see from my re-posts lolz :3
Other things enjoy are writing,photography,learning shit,animals,nature,skateboarding and anything that is fun and whimsical >:3
I am 18 years old (19 on June 27th this year)
I am lesbian and asexual as fuck (my gf is @skelebab 🌟)
So I hate nsfw stuff and also don’t flirt with me please lol
I post art and shit sometimes but not a lot recently since I’ve been struggling to art fr
I also make a lot of text posts mostly fandom related or other stuffs like funny or wholesome shit that happens to me or that I do that I think yall would like but really I just post whatever I want lol
I love to make friends!!! I try to support people on here as much as I can!!
This blog is a safe space for everyone unless you suck or are basic dni type shit u know who u are lol
Feel free to comment, send asks, message me, vent, or interact in any way you would like too! I can’t always promise to do art requests I get as arting is hard sometimes fr but I try to !! I will most likely respond to interactions unless they are wierd or gross and it makes me extremely happy so don’t be shy!!!
Anyways I love you guys let me know if I can ever do anything for you or if you need a friend or some support. I am here for you guys always 💝
Use this post as a message board if you would like, comment whatever you want whenever you want it makes me genuinely happy, ask me stuff, say random shit,info dump, share cool facts, etc!! Have fun it will absolutely make my day 💝
K bai :3
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I understand if you’re too busy to answer this or don’t want to, but i was wondering if you wouldn’t mind telling us some of your non-explicit headcanons or just some traits you think wolfstar have in general? Your explicit ones are sososo hot but today I'm feeling low and need some comforting. Yiur blog is just a safe space for me but I totally understand if not! I love your work <3 all my love x
There are so many nondescript hc’s I have that this has the potential to turn into a formal essay with cited sources, so I’ll go for more of a generalised dump of info I have for each in a hope that it lifts some of your fog Anon. Maybe bullet pointed because it’ll be easier to read than my usual untidy form of communication. Hope you feel lighter soon.
Sirius
• will lick a yoghurt pot if there’s no clean spoons. There’s the option to go for fruit instead, but he wants the yoghurt and by god he will get his yoghurt
• is a fucking terrible driver, gives Remus and any passenger white knuckles due to speed issues and not using a lower gear when taking corners
• is however, in complete control when on a motorcycle; very hot, very controlled and will take his passenger’s safety very seriously
• professionally trained in ballroom and ballet, the latter which he is sometimes mocked in jest for, even by Remus, until he one time caught him stretching elegantly on the floor one morning with his upper body laid flat between long, toned, wide spread legs, ‘morning moony’, a healthy blush on his cheeks
• private crier, doesn’t cry easily
• goes quiet when angry as an initial defence but it doesn’t take long for him to start dropping breadcrumbs of sarcastic comments; can also be snobby and bratty, perhaps sometimes will get nasty and direct (bringing up things he shouldn’t to score points in the heat of the moment)
• suffers immeasurable guilt (helped by the point above) but is always masking a weighted feeling of guilt no matter what he’s doing, so much so it’s manifested into quite a serious anxiety problem in the wrong crowds
• he fidgets a lot, not in a chaotic way, just always has to have his fingers busy with something
• likes the smell of gasoline
• once had to talk himself down from throwing a child in a dustbin
• loves the colour red; blood red and cherry red to be precise but secretly loves dark blue even more because it’s what looks most handsome on Remus despite him not wearing it often
• sighs a lot
• pretended he couldn’t speak English to get away with jumping a queue
• hates the smell and taste of liquorice (unless heavily strawberry/cherry/raspberry flavoured)
• on one particular messy night out he got so impatient waiting at the bar, he reached over and grabbed a discarded bottle of alcohol the server had left open and swigged it
• digs his nails into his skin when anxious and is often reminded to relax the tension in his joints
• stargazes often
• once linked his pinky finger with Remus and asked him to pinky promise not to tell anyone what he was about to tell him, since which a tradition of trust was born where Remus will offer his pinky or the last two fingers for Sirius to hold or squeeze when he’s feeling unsure in public, or in any situation where verbal reassurance isn’t appropriate
• gets a weird thrill at the sound of cork popping from a bottle
Remus
• collects beer mats and keeps them in a drawer, thinks about making them into a display
• got tired of kids playing ball against the wall of his place (after repeat offences and him asking very nicely for them to stop) one day so went out, retrieved the ball and threw it so hard against of the cars it set the alarm off
• owner of said car came running out the house and Remus blamed it on the children. Never had the same issue again
• has a wildly sweet tooth and will always drop one or two packets of sugar into any warm beverage
• stares into space and gets involuntarily caught on someone’s face one too many times which makes them uncomfortable from the ‘Death Stare’ phenomenon when in reality, he’s lost in lala land
• can cook, is actually a proficient cook, but will not cook for anyone but Sirius, James or Lily
• will crack his knuckles, wrists and neck absentmindedly, all of which makes his company squirm because it’s often very loud and ‘pop-py’ but Sirius fucking loves it
• stays very calm during an argument but can shout louder than most and when he does, ears ring from the silence that follows
• prefers tea over coffee
• will eat liquorice any time he wants to piss Sirius off
• cries more than Sirius, but still a private crier
• always has to be the old boot in Monopoly
• loves words that are vowel heavy or double voweled because those are the ones where the scraps of Sirius’ lost French accent surface the most
• has a gentle touch, is aware of his size and nature of his lycanthropy, therefore always somewhat reserved
• loves socks, has a collection of ‘dad socks’
• has the messiest writing out of all the Marauders but loves handwritten things, owns three very different fountain pens for very different purposes
• is polite, but as he’s aged doesn’t tend to ‘fake smile’ a lot, feeling no need to fill uncomfortable silences for the sake of others
• has a chair he favours and often dozes off in it. Most of the time waking up to Sirius on top of him
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Steven Grant x Autistic!Reader
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺
Just some drabbles of what being friends/partners with Steven Grant would look like with an autistic reader since, I myself, am autistic. Autism is a spectrum so I tried to make it inclusive but some of the traits are obviously going to be more geared towards my experience since that's what I'm writing from. Also gender neutral!reader
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺
TW: talking about stimming, autistic meltdowns, cpstd, insomnia, DID
Steven Grant
Steven Grant has a lot of autistic traits, so I’ll be treating him like he is.
Rigid routines, hyperfixations (Egyptology), always calling his Mom every morning, being visibly upset when his routine is changed, etc
CPSTD can exacerbate autism traits so whether or not Marc and Jake have autism in particular I’m not going to get into right this moment BUT
man has insomnia among other things he gets it he understands you better than most.
If you were cohabitating the both of you would have your safe spaces in the flat
On top of that the entire place would be sensory friendly, your little retreat
Overhead light never gets turned on when it’s with you two, Steven keeps the curtains open for some natural light
incense from his involuntary travels would be stockpiled
He definitely has some sort of trinket or keepsake that makes white noise of some kind
Might be a water feature or windchimes hung up by the window- Gus’ tank also emits some white noise from the filter and water pump
The flat will always have some sort of noise to drown out the busy streets outside
When the noises are overstimulating to the both of you though he’s got noise canceling headphones and earbuds- he misplaces them a lot so there’s always extra to go around
Though eventually he gets you your own pair for around the flat
If you use a cane or any sort of walker he invests in making sure you have a spot to put it while you’re around the flat and that there’s actually space for you to walk around with it if needed
While he loves his collections of books, if you can’t traverse the flat with all that stuff on the floor he’s going to find another spot for them. Shoved into a closet somewhere- a storage unit, whatever he can do to keep his books and you
You both definitely stay in a lot more than you do go out
The street just outside the flat is busy but in the quieter hours the two of you go on short walks under the moonlight
If you’re novelty seeking though Steven’s not going to be the best at helping but will do his best to tag along with you if it’s outside of the house.
Sometimes he’s right there with you ready to go out and other times he’s just wanting to stay home, you don’t always match energies
Novelty seeking at home though? Completely different story. He’s always happy to dive into a new topic with you, whether it’s related to his own hyperfixation or one of your own
Insomnia and DID affect his memory so even if he has come to terms with Marc he’s still going to be writing things down, taking notes on the subject you two are diving into
When you need to stim Steven has a TON of trinkets and stim toys around the flat if not already in his pockets
The only thing he wouldn’t share with you is his rubik cube, if that’s not already in his hands while the two of you are talking it’s in his pocket or misplaced on a shelf it’s definitely his most well loved stimming item and he has to fix it, often
Puzzles also! From old crosswords to literal picture puzzles he’s down to do them all with you and will probably be absentmindedly doing one while you info dump
He has a rocking chair somewhere in the flat that’s incredibly comfy and well loved for some full body stimming
I don’t think Steven would have a sensory swing and if he does he was to embarrassed to set up for himself
Like Steven doesn’t hate himself for being autistic
He never learned to mask but there’s still lingering anxieties, they just aren’t focused around his autism, more on his DID and just general trauma
If you or any or the other alters found the swing though there would be some questions and a lot of hesitance and excuses on Steven’s end
Well you bet that swing is getting set up now
Even if Steven doesn’t end up using it as much he’s glad that it’s there if you or him need it at some point
You both do parallel play/being alone together- you’ll focus on your task and he’ll do his while you both are in the same room
Whilst some tasks give Steven the ick he can’t offload all the chores to his alters
So when the dishwasher needs to be opened or dishes cleaned in the sink he has a whole process to try and make it easier on himself
He wouldn’t be good at helping you out with these tasks either but his presence is appreciated
If eating noises are triggering Steven will either fetch the noise canceling headphones or go eat out on the porch or off in another room
Safe foods! He has them written down if he doesn’t already remember them
The flat is stocked with both his and your safe foods
If you’re out of the house he keeps a backpack on him that would have snacks and trinkets
I don’t think Steven goes nonverbal often mostly because I think that version for him is probably just retreating back and forcing the other alters out so that at least someone is talking in whatever situation is happening
I think if it does happen in a safe space with you though he’s most likely writing down his thoughts to you over his notebook
When you go nonverbal he gets a little panicky, because he knows how he feels when that comes up so he’s much more fretful over that
He starts asking you a bunch of yes or no questions to things you may need which isn’t always entirely helpful as it can be a bit overwhelming
But after his anxieties are quelled he’s much more able to help out in whatever you need
Whatever communication device or tool you use he’s more than willing to accommodate and carries around cards in the backpack as well
When you have a meltdown for the first time in front of him he definitely isn’t entirely sure of himself, he doesn’t know exactly what you need so it takes some trial and error
After the meltdown though he asks what you’d like to have happen when another one occurs
Whether you need physical touch or instead a weighted blanket or touch sensation at all he’s ready to help
Whatever entertainment medium you like he’ll put on/grab to keep your mind distracted and calmed
If it’s in public he will probably let another alter handle it since that’s overwhelming for him too though I think he feels guilty about it despite it just being a defense mechanism on his end.
He wants to help you and himself, but part of that is accepting where he’s at and sometimes trying to push yourself is the opposite of what’s needed
#moon knight#steven grant#steven grant x reader#steven grant x gender neutral reader#steven grant x you#steven grant x y/n#autistic!reader#disabled!reader#moon knight fanfic#steven grant fanfiction
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Flip ! Josh Washington Headcanons.
MY CG ?! MY BABY ?!!! (Mostly regressor headcanons!)
- nicknames galore in headspace,, ‘pipsqueak’ in playful moments n sweet ones like ‘baby’ or ‘little one’ when it’s kinda a low point or when you’re unwinding from a long day,,
- movie references ALL THE TIMEEE!! Or just info dumping because I hc that he’s autistic as well!! He won’t hesitate to drag any of his friends into his rants,, especially when he’s little and Jess is just sitting and listening even if she doesn’t really get it
- Chris and Sam are his main caregivers!! Chris is a big brother n Sam is momma to him,, Sam is like a calming presence so he feels safe n Chris is like almost the opposite with riling him up and just slipping him snacks while they play video games and stuff!!
- Very much a horror regressor,, he can’t stay away from it n absolutely loves movie marathons of any variety. (Whines sometimes when Jess gets to pick movies in the lodge,, he doesn’t wanna watch Barbie again!)
- Regresses very easily on bad days,, one look at anything butterfly related sends him into a breakdown and it usually makes him regress into very small toddler-ish space. Sam and Chris try to distract as best they can but when it doesn’t work they try to distract.
- Big brother who can’t help but show you the coolest cheats on games because ‘it just makes it easier!’ And who’s to stop him? You’re just a baby he’s not gonna ruin the game for you!! (Actually.. actually has ruined a game for Jess before– a total accident!!)
- Digs out old boxes of toys or movies for you to watch, trying to make sure they’re all kid appropriate but if some slip through the cracks he’s quick to switch it out. Not without laughing at first- he would probably find his own mistake a bit hilarious!! Things like he-man or power rangers or even smaller cartoons that used to play on PBS are on the tv for hours.
- Regresses and is a caregiver to cope, doting on someone to avoid how he didn’t take care of his sisters, at least in his own mind. Trying to be attentive but sometimes the day takes a toll and it becomes a bit of a struggle,, gently coaxing his little into just laying with him for hours while they nap or he tells them the plot of a movie framed as a story.
- Does pull pranks on his sibbies and littles!! No one is safe,, but mostly they’re harmless- jumping out in hallways in a scary mask while shouting or putting a little too much salt into a cup when Chris wanted sugar,, so on so on!! Jess gets in on it slightly, Emily makes sure they’re both in sight very very often!!
-Tries to tone down his pranks for his babies, if they don’t like them he won’t do them at all, if they do like them he’ll only do very harmless ones like the ones above!! Or comes up with silly ideas like moving random furniture three inches to the left to see how his little would react n stuff.
- Chris, Jess, Sam, and Emily (somewhat hesitant on this) are the only ones Josh will confide in in terms of his regression, doesn’t want to be deemed weirder than one would already assume he is,, needs a lot of reassurance that his regression is okay and safe and no one would let him get hurt again.
- Feeds his little or sibbies any snack he can get his hands on,, chips, cookies, gummies,, whatever it is he’s found it and has absolutely already shared some with Jess– who probably doesn’t need the sugar but ‘snacks never killed anyone!!’ He says!! Absolutely crashes after but the cycle of it makes him have a sense of normalcy for a moment or two.
- Plays games with Chris SOOO much, they’re inseparable sometimes!! Slushies and pizza and some random shooter game that had been sitting collecting dust,, quite the perfect night for little Josh honestly, he wouldn’t have it any other way, it reminds him of middle school happily.
#until dawn agere#sfw agere#fandom agere#agere blog#agere community#safe agere#horror agere#age regression#agere#sfw age regression#agere headcanons#↱ Creations . . .ᐟᅟ
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One step from you
Paring: modern!prosecutor!Aemond Targaryen x commissioner!reader
Synopsis: a surprise dinner invitation, forces closed off prosecutor Aemond Targaryen to start rethink his life.
Warnings: Aemond's social anxiety, dumbass to (maybe) lovers, reader's overbearing family.
What brings Aemond to dinner with your whole family is the botulinum outbreak in the county.
He means no disrespect, when he elects to interrogate your mum you, obviously, can’t; he would have never expected the woman in front of him to explain him, lengthy and with extreme precision, how to prepare: marinated vegetables, tomato puree and many complicated, traditional dishes.
After he was done with her, he had felt full, not unlike after a wedding feast and he had only had one espresso for breakfast!
You found him still at the precinct late that same night, you obviously working on other cases, him drinking that terrible, horrible, no good coffee from the vending machines in the corridor.
You’ve been meaning to talk to him, to say how sorry you were that your mother had dumped centuries of culinary history on him, while not answering the questions, but you were on the cusp of discovering the heads of a big drug ring, and had managed to come back to your office just half and hour ago.
Despite having worked with him countless times, you find prosecutor Aemond Targaryen to be aloof and difficult to talk to, even when it concerned work matters; not that he’s ever been rude with you, just that you find yourself unconsciously checking your posture and don’t really know how friendly you can be with him, even after years of working together. It doesn’t help that you have a crush on the man that forces you to act more distant with him, that you’d be with anyone else: you can’t risk rumors to spread.
Surprisingly enough, it’s him who starts the conversation.
“Commissioner, I thought I was alone with the night shift.”
“I’ve just returned, sir.” You stared at the vending machine for a second. “I’m sorry about my mother, she told me you interrogated her”
“She was more offended that I believed her a bad cook, than the botulinum outbreak accusations.”
“Sir, my mother is the best chef in the county.”
“I haven’t disputed that”
“By implying that her food might be contaminated, you basically did, sir.”
The way he stared at you made a smile break on your face. It’s safe, no one is around to see it.
“I’ve never said that. We have no idea where the botulinum comes from, let alone which hotel is the, metaphorical, patient zero” he said, stiff
“My mother has her own set of priorities, sir. She might not know much about accounting and how to run that side of the business, but in the kitchen? She’d be able to run the place blindfolded and with her right hand behind her back” you couldn’t stop smiling.
Despite how at odds you and your mother are, sometimes, you are proud of her and of the way she had carved her space in a male dominated world.
“I am merely doing my job” he answered, his face set
“I know sir” you tried to school your expression, but the smile didn’t want to go away (danger! Danger!). “And I will tell her how hard you are working to clean everyone’s name”.
After that the conversation abated, you tried not to gag while drinking your coffee, he stared at you, puzzled as to why you find what he’s just told you so funny.
Despite what Aegon tells him, Aemond is keenly aware of the complicated dance of social interactions, he just finds himself with two left feet, in a world where everyone else is a mix between Rudol'f Nureev and Carla Fracci. Take this moment with you: you two were chatting, you are being friendly and he couldn’t respond in tune, even if he wanted to because he had no idea how joke about your mother info dumping on him, who barely knows how to fry an egg.
“Oh, Gods be good!” You said. “I need some shut eye before we start interrogating the detainees.”
Someone else, anyone else, would have found a witty way to ask you how the investigation was going, what escaped his lips was a dry
“Do you think you will close it soon?”
“I hope so, sir,” the smile on your face less prominent. “We all want to see the results.” You answered feeling the easiness of your conversation abating
“Then good luck”
“Thank you sir,” You answered. “Good luck to you too.”
You bid him goodnight and left him to stare at your retracting back, telling himself what an idiot he’s been in being so awkward with you.
You don’t really see him, too overwhelmed with your drug ring case to go look for him and ask how the botulinum outbreak is going; you know that the people at the hospital are getting better, it’s the rest of the story that you are missing. You make a point of not asking your mother, whenever she calls you, not even when she mentions Aemond: it’s a slippery slope to mix work and family life together.
You stumble upon Aemond, again, late at night. You had foregone the celebrations with your team, after closing the drug ring investigation, to spend some time alone in your office to relax, since both your brain and body are still running high on adrenaline, and you’d rather not crash where your subordinates might see you.
The police station is eerily quiet, the echo of the steps of the night shift barely reaches your floor and the sky is dark outside, the moon hidden by a thick blanket of clouds: it might finally rain.
You jump out of your skin the second Aemond calls you from the shadows, you are positive your heart will explode with fear and adrenaline.
“Sir!” You shout, one hand going to your chest
“Commissioner.” He says, eyeing you
“What are you doing here? It’s late!” Comes out with too much emphasis and he winces inwardly
“I could ask you the same question.” He answers, tone clipped as usual
“Jesus weep!”.
Aemond feels sorry at having scared you so. He knows he is light on his feet, but he thought you’d be able to hear him coming: you’re a cop, after all!
In his heart Aemond knows he should leave before the silence becomes too awkward, he might have a handful of seconds before your breathing goes back to normal and he is forced to perform, badly, some sort of small talk.
Sometimes he hates this divide between him and the rest of the world.
He is getting ready to retreat, when you surprise him
“Have you already eaten dinner?”
He doesn’t know what to respond and why do you care?
“I have some food mother sent me and I don’t feel like eating alone.” You say with a brilliant smile on your face.
Aemond hesitates. You mother’s hotel has been cleared of any responsibility, still he has investigated her: it’s not proper to eat the food of a former suspect, he should politely say no and go home.
The idea of returning to the hotel room he occupies, even since he had to relocate for his first assignment, dampens his volition: the room service has already closed and he doesn’t have any food in the small fridge; on top of that, the idea of eating take out again depresses him when he knows homemade food is within his reach.
Before he can’t stop himself he accepts your invitation. You’re glad he’s answered immediately, or you would have lost courage yourself.
The walk towards your office is short.
Aemond misses the old location of the precinct: a Renaissance building, dusty and a bit moldy, but with character and beautiful frescoes on the ceilings. The new place is depressingly anonymous, all metal and white walls.
He appreciates what you’ve tried to do with you office: the plants and the frames on your desk give the room a spark of personality, whilst maintaining a professional atmosphere; the couch near the window looks comfy and, he suspects with a twinge of tenderness, that you might have taken more than one nap there.
There’s an exaggerated number of Tupperwares and jars on the desk you use for the meetings with your men, all the containers neatly wrapped, the contents written on the paper with a flowery handwriting.
“I told you, sir. Mother exaggerated, as usual.” You tell him with mirth in your voice. “Do you mind moving everything on my desk? I need to set the table.”
With that you head towards one the filing cabinets, open one of the drawers and extract a colorful tablecloth, plastic plates and cutlery, to his immense surprise. Gently you put everything on the top of the cabinet, in order to rummage so more, to produce a tube of plastic glasses.
Again, the divide he feels stops him from saying anything funny when you turn towards him with your arms full and stare quizzically at him. He elects to keep silent as he moves everything on your desk, while you set the table for two.
You two work in silence to unwrap everything and he marvels again at the sheer amount of food that’s on the table: various preserved vegetables, bread, savory pies and desserts.
He sits after you and waits until you’ve served yourself, before trying a bit of everything.
He suppresses a moan of appreciation at the way the flavors explode in his mouth; the food he buys doesn’t taste this good, even what the cook at home used to prepare can’t compare, the various ingredients and textures meld perfectly on his tongue.
“Do you like it?” You ask, after a while, to break the silence.
“It’s excellent” he answers.
“Do you understand why mother was so pissed that you thought she isn’t a good chef?”
Aemond stares at you, eye fixed into yours.
“I’ve never said that. Even the best professional might make a mistake which results in people developing food poisoning.”
“Not mother, sir. I’ve been raised by her side, in the kitchen. I know how precise she is with every preparation, the conserves mostly. She knows the dangers of food going bad. She’d rather throw everything out, than risk hurting someone. She’s so strict, that she only uses the food that she grows in the garden; everything she serves, she knows the origin. Even the juices are home pressed”
“You know how to prepare all of this?”.
He hopes his incredulity doesn’t seep in his words. You don’t look like the kind of person who would slave in a garden and in a kitchen to prepare traditional meals.
“I do, sir, and I would make my own food, if only I weren’t always here. It takes time and energy to organize your work and then prepare everything. Have you ever participated in making tomato sauce? You need a lot of people, time and space, it takes days!”.
Aemond focuses on your face: he’s never seen you this animated. When you are with him you are always serious and controlled, now there’s a spark in your eyes he’s never seen, the air around you vibrates with an energy he’s never experienced when you relate him the results of your inquest. You look alive in ways, he thinks, no one has ever seen here.
“I can’t say I have.” He answers, putting the fork neatly beside the plate. “My family doesn’t hold these kind of traditions”.
He grimaces inwardly, like every time he shares tidbits of himself with the outside world, waiting for his interlocutor to use the information against him.
“It’s fun, sir. You are absolutely destroyed afterwards, but seeing the fruits of your labor on the shelves, makes for it.”
You say with a smile that covers for no judgment, he realizes. You are merely chatting with him and he can’t detect any ill intention on your part; he’s not used at doing this, talking with people with the only intent to pass the time and get to know them.
“Will you tell your mother that I have appreciated everything she’s prepared?”
“I will, sir. Be mindful, though, she might start sending you food as well.”
“Why would she do such a thing? She doesn’t know me.” He is honestly surprised.
“Because she’s a feeder. She’s told me at least trice that you look too thin and she fears you are living off supermarket food. Unfortunately she comes from a generation where stating opinions on someone’s body is the norm, but she means well.”
“You can assure your mother I am eating healthy food. Not homemade, because I don’t have a garden, yet it’s not frozen meals.” he finds himself saying with a smile.
It’s not a lie, not the complete truth either, he hopes the cook at the hotel chooses the best ingredients, but he doesn’t have that kind of back knowledge to know.
“I’ll try my best, sir. Despite you having to investigate her and her hotel, she likes you. She’s told me what a gentleman you have been throughout the questioning, calling her ‘Mrs’ and listening attentively. She’s added something I shouldn’t say out loud, though.” You say, evading his eye.
“Commissioner, I don’t think anything your mother said about me warrants you keeping the secret. I don’t think she insulted me.”
He is intrigued now, and this is better than asking himself why he feels so at ease with you.
You play with the food on your plate, trying to find the right words.
“She said you reminded her of her grandfather. He was a farmer, but he had studied in a seminary, until his own dad had passed away and he was forced to quit to help feeding his mum and siblings. He was known to be well mannered, even when plowing the land, and well spoken. People noticed how lord like he was, they didn’t see the mud on his boots.” You take a sip of water. “I have never met him, of course, but all the tales about him focus on his bright intelligence and gentleness. He was wasted potential, but back in those times his family couldn’t do anything about it. All his neighbors used to come to him to solve their problems with borders, cattle and the like, because he was always capable of finding a solution that was good for all parties.”
Your eyes bore into his lonely one, your hands pick at the bread on the table with nervousness.
“I’m sorry if I have offended you, sir.”
“You haven’t.” He answers. “He sounds like the kind of man anyone should aspire to be. It is a great compliment to be compared to him.”
“Oh thank God!” You say, the breath you’ve been holding escapes your lips in a huff.
You didn’t know how he would have taken being compared to a simple farmer, when you know well enough how old and important his family is.
“Is there anything else your mother said?”
“No, that’s it”.
It’s not entirely the truth. She’s repeated you how handsome Aemond is and that you should find out if he has someone in his life, because he looks like the kind of man who is just perfect for you. He doesn’t need to know that and how much you agree with you mother.
“Would it be awfully impolite if we don’t finish everything?”
“Oh no sir! Those are my rations for at least a week. It is physically impossible to eat all!”
“You shouldn’t have shared it with me, if it was supposed to last you for so long!”
“Nonsense, sir. I offered because I was happy for you to have a meal with me. And I have other food at home, not homemade, but you will not tell mother, right?” The smile is bright on your lips.
He stares at you fondly. This is the first time in a long while, that he’s felt not so detached from the world around him, almost at ease with you.
“On my honor, commissioner” he smiles, without even realizing it.
He helps you put the food in the containers and throw out the trash.
You two argue on your way to the exit, because he wants to carry everything for you, it looks heavy and he is gentleman, after all, to which you answer that you are used to carry and lift more than this bag.
Outside, the first summer storm is raging, fat drops of water falling almost horizontally on the pavement.
“Is your car nearby, commissioner?” He asks, voice raised to make himself heard.
“It’s that one!” You answer, pointing at the beaten out Cinquecento parked on the corner of the street.
“Are you sure it will withstand the storm?” He has to ask, the thing looks ancient.
“It will. It’s more patches than everything else, but it still runs strong!”
With a huff you don your raincoat and fit the hood on your head.
“How are you going home, sir?”
“With that.” He answers, pointing to a car that costs like your annual wage. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve driven that through worse conditions.” You stop for a second, unsure of how you should say goodbye. “Well, goodnight sir.”
“Good night commissioner.” He answers.
He stays on the door until you are safely in your car and the thing, miraculously, starts.
Few days pass; he has so much work he might drown in it, yet he has the time to focus on you every single time you two pass the halls of the precinct and of the courthouse. He doesn’t realize what he’s doing, at first, you’re there and he greets you, because his mother has taught him good manners, it’s when he is consciously looking for you, that he realizes what he’s been doing.
It’s strange for him to look out for someone who is not his immediate family: keeping and eye on his siblings has always been a sort of second nature, even though he’s not the first born, because they are his blood and he’s supposed to. You are a nobody, a subordinate, yet he realizes, as he’s pouring over some documents, that his subconscious has been focusing on you for a very long time, the change now being, that he wishes to see more of that spark you showed him during your improvised dinner, at least when you stumble upon him.
For your part, you try not to think about the dinner too much. It had been lovely to see a more human side to your colleague, the downside being that whatever interest you had been developing for him, now has more energy to grow. Your mother is of no help either, she keeps asking about Aemond, as if you were in any position to know any personal information and no, you don’t want to know if he’s single or not, it’s not like you have any chance with him, who has shown zero interest towards you, beside work.
You should have known better.
You mother has a tradition: Friday night family dinner, when she gives the reins of the hotel kitchen to her second in command so she can cook for her family only, and spend time with you all.
She’s been particularly pressing this week, you simply thought she wanted you relax with the people who love you, after the grueling months spent chasing the drug ring. You were wrong.
The first bell should have rang when the space in front of the family home is full of cars. The second when you spotted a car that looked suspiciously similar to Aemond’s posh one. The third the second your mother bear hugged you and then dragged you to the kitchen, chatting like a car salesman to stop your questioning.
“Mom, what the hell?”
You finally manage to interrupt her when you see your colleagues, and their families, helping setting the tables in the back garden.
“What?” She stares at you with fake innocence in her eyes.
“Why is my team here?”
“Oh dear. Didn’t I tell you? I wanted to celebrate your hard work!”
Your mum is many things, a good actress she’s not.
“No, you didn’t.” You say exasperated. “And you called me constantly the past week!”
“Oh, I am getting old and forgetful. I’m sorry dearest.”
You know she isn’t and you are certain she hasn’t forgotten about telling you. You almost start grilling her with questions, when she chirps amiably.
“Oh, look who’s managed to come!”
With horror you see Aemond with a casserole in his hand, your older sister directing him on where to put the thing.
“Mom!”
You think you are going to have a heart attack. You are positive it’s going to happen now, because your heart is beating too fast and you feel like fainting with embarrassment. If you die you don’t have to talk to him, to justify your family probably berating him.
If you’re fast enough you can run to your car before Aemond spots you.
You haven’t considered your mother’s grip on your arm, and your nephews’ sudden influx of love towards you, the three little monster screaming your name and hugging your legs: you are positively struck where you are.
If only the ground were to swallow you.
“Mom, do you have the slightest idea of the family he comes from?”
“Yes, of course I do. They all look dashing, but him? Absolutely breathtaking”.
God please take me now, you think, anything but this!
But God is nowhere to be found and is deafer than ever to your prayers when you see your sister talking to Aemond, who then turns and spots you.
You can’t run away now. Maybe a stray thunderbolt might hit you?
“Good evening commissioner”
“Good evening sir”.
You try to look dignified, pretty difficult when there’s a gaggle of children holding on to your legs and you want to die.
“Children, will you please let me go?” You ask.
“Are you going to run away?” Says nephew number one.
“Mum said to get you, so you would stay!” Adds nephew number two.
“She said you’d try to bolt!” The third one nails the last nail on your coffin.
If you longed for death before, now you wish to burst into flames.
“Why would you leave, commissioner?” Aemond looks sincerely curious.
“I will not. Children, please!”.
The three little monster seem to be happy with the damage they have caused and run away, to play.
“You know how kids are, sir. Minds full of wonder. God only knows what they’ve heard!”
“I think we can use our first names tonight, we are not at work, after all.”
Engrossed as you are in your embarrassment, you don’t hear the insecurity in Aemond’s voice
“Yes sir.” You catch yourself .“Aemond. I hope my family wasn’t too berating.”
“They aren’t. A bit loud, but it calls for the occasion.”
Inwardly he lets go of the breath he was holding. He knows it’s stupid but, like every time he takes a step out of his comfort zone, he feels himself preparing for the worse, for his little attempt to be crushed by the outside world.
“Are you two going to stand there and look pretty, or are you going to help?” Screams your brother in law from where he’s minding the barbecue.
“You do your thing.” You shout back. “And I’ll do mine!”
“He is right. I think there’s more that needs to be set on the table.”
You agree and desperately try not to notice how good Aemond looks.
At work he wears conservative suits, tonight his slacks look comfy and soft, the neckline of his white shirt deeper than the ones you are used to see him wear. His gorgeous hair is in a complicated braid that enhance his beautiful face.
Yes, you need to busy yourself.
Your mum has overdone herself. For the usual Friday dinner, she just sets the table, tonight the whole area is illuminated by strings of light and there’s flowers and plants everywhere. The tablecloths are the finest she owns, the ones she uses only for important occasions. You are moved by the hard work you see here, knowing full well how demanding the hotel is, yet you are pissed that both your mother and sister have ambushed you so; you wouldn’t have refused to come, if you’d known that Aemond would be here!
“What were you two thinking?”
You have managed to snag your sister and drag her in a hidden corner of the garden.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about”
“I am going to throttle you”
“You are worse at lying than mom is! You have any idea of who Aemond is?”
“I perfectly know who he is. He’s the man who’s making me regret I am married and loyal. He’s so dreamy.”
“What for? You work with him!”
“It’s not the same. We don’t have that kind of relationship!”
“But you’ve eaten with him.”
“How do you know that?”
Whatever high ground you thought you had, disappears from under your feet.
“He thanked mum for the food and complimented her, when she called him to invite him tonight.” Your sister says nonchalantly
“How, in the name of God, does she have his phone number?”
At this point you are beyond flabbergasted
“You should ask her! Now come, it’s time to eat!”
Your sister grabs your arm and your nephews appear out of nowhere to help her drag you to your chair which is, lo and behold, next to Aemond’s.
“I’m going to kill you!” You manage to whisper in your sister’s ear
“Enjoy your dinner!” She says with so much saccharine in her voice, you are afraid her teeth will fall off.
Aemond had to prepare himself for tonight, telling himself that being social for one night would be fine, even fun. He knows your men, his consideration of them is almost positive, considering they are cops. Compared to most of their colleagues, they are bearable and not corrupt, which is a first. On top of that, he has already had dinner with you and the experience had been lovely, you were lovely and he couldn’t say no to a mum, his own mother would kill him, but his heart had beaten a tad too fast while he was driving here, the idea of having to deal with so many people, in an unknown context, scared him.
At the courthouse or the precinct, he has a script in his head he can follow, here? He’s left to his own devices and that rarely ends well.
Surprisingly enough, for him, the welcome he received from you family was warm and made him feel like he had always known all of them. Even being, gently, bossed around by your older sister, felt right, not like she was overstepping.
But he can still feel the glass divide between himself and the rest of the world.
It is a strange feeling, to be somewhere, with nice people, and knowing that there’s this distance he can’t overcome. That he can talk with people, break bread with them and yet know that he’s seeing the whole scene from the outside, instead of being part of it, as if he’s the spectator to a play.
Even you, sitting by his side, chatting and laughing, the delicate scent of your perfume in his nostrils, barely manage to breach the gap that had always distanced him from the rest of the world.
Your mum, for her part, tries to make him participate in the conversation, as if she’s aware of the way he’s feeling. But she can’t know, he tells himself, no one has ever been able to, why could she?
And she seems to be intent to feed him like a pig. Aemond can’t say no to her, not when she puts food on his plate and tells him to try this dish, which she had made especially for him; Alicent would kill him if she’d ever knew he had caused grief to a fellow mother, who has worked hard just for him.
“Do you want to get a breath of fresh air?” You ask him during a lull between courses.
“I wouldn’t mind it.” He answers, hoping the relief is not too noticeable.
You hope no one notices you two slipping away to go to the roof of the house. On your way there, you stop in front of an ancient daguerreotype.
“That’s him.” You say.
Aemond behind you hums, his eye admiring the old face staring back at him.
The man looks nothing like him, the huge mustaches occupy his face, giving him a serious look, but that’s not why he understands your mother’s reasoning: it’s the aura he can feel exuding from the daguerreotype, the power that only knowledge gives you, the one Aemond had always felt during his studies, what truly made him feel strong and capable, against a world he rarely understood.
“Thank you for showing me his picture.” Aemond says, meaning it from the bottom of his heart: our family, our roots, it’s all we have, when everything is said and done.
“And this one is my granddad, his son. He’s the one who started the hotel, from his literal home”.
The photo he looks at is yellow with age, a man staring at something just over Aemond’s shoulder, the typical pose for pictures of that time; you look a lot like him, he realizes, in the shape of your eyes and mouth.
“Let’s go, before my sister sends her minions from hell!” You laugh, making your way up the staircase.
The night is warm but a gentle breeze moves your hair, as soon as you and Aemond arrive on the roof.
Like many houses in this region, it is flat and had been used for centuries to store rain water and hang the drying clothes; Aemond notices your family has comfortable garden furniture here and a closed beach umbrella.
Ignoring everything, you head for the edge of the roof, where you can feel the breeze more; Aemond follows you, taking the time to observe you.
You look like summer in your pretty dress and wedge heels, your hair styled and not up in the conservative bun you wear at work. Yes, you are pretty, not that you aren't in your usual clothing, it's just that these illuminate you, make you look happier and livelier. He understands your fashion choices at work. He once heard another female police officer saying that she would have dressed more feminine, but then, where keep her gun? And the field is still so male dominated that showing any other kind of traits, would immediately mean becoming laughing stock.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” A tinge of anxiety marks your voice
“I am. It is different than my usual Friday night, but a good change”
“I’m glad. My family can be hard to handle, even for me.” You say, shielding your face with your hair
“They are a peculiar bunch indeed, but nice and welcoming.”
Silence falls between you two again, broken only by the music coming from downstairs; it’s not heavy, though, Aemond muses, he doesn’t feel the need to either leave or try to awkwardly fill it with words, before the other person decides it has been weird enough. In his life, he only felt like this with his beloved sister Helaena: she never minded sitting by his side, just quietly enjoying life.
“This is my family’s ancestral home. It had been expanded and changed, but my family has been living here since centuries. My grandfather used to rent out all the rooms he could, that’s how the hotel started.”
“It must have been hard.”
“Yes. Many sacrifices were made, but he didn’t want his daughter to slave in the fields all her life.”
“She still decided on physical labor, instead of a managerial position, though.”
“The key is that it was her choice. She wakes up every morning and still wants to do it. It is a luck not everyone has.”
“Do you still have it?”
Aemond doesn’t know where the question comes from, he’s usually mindful of someone else privacy, but with you that invisible, glass divide with the world, seems to become thinner and thinner and he deludes himself with thinking he might truly reach through it and touch you.
“I do, and I don’t sometimes.” You admit, eyes not meeting his. “I love my team and what we do, I just miss how exciting my life was undercover, and after, at the internal affairs.”
“Do you want to go back to that?”
You don’t answer immediately, you let the wind blow through your hair and the lights from downstairs dance in your eyes.
“No, I don’t think I want to. It’s just that this job sucks the life out of you, sometimes. All the violence and the filth and having to shield the people I love from that makes me feel. I think I miss more the person I was, the way I used to look at this work, like a source of a better change for this world. Now that I am older and wiser, I realize that, at best, we try to empty the ocean with a spoon, at worse, we are protecting those who have reduced the world into what it is.”
If he were another person, Aemond would have reached for your hand, to give you comfort, but he is who he is and doesn’t know what to do.
He doesn’t expect your question.
“What about you, Aemond? Do you still wake up with the same drive you used to have?”
“I do.” He is surprised by how fast he answers, but this had been a surprising night, it’s OK. “I see all of it and it makes me what to double down on my work. But I understand: you are supposed to protect, but whom, truly? The poor person who steals out of hunger, or the company they steal from?”
“You’re lucky then.” You say with a sad smile on your lips
“I probably am.” What you don’t know, it’s that it’s the glass divide he sometimes despises, that helps him keep a distance between himself and the ugly parts of his job.
“I feel like my mind is always there. I cook and clean, play with my nephews and chat with my mum, and a part of me is always pouring over the files. It’s never ending.”
“I have a bike.” He blurts out “We can go on a trip, take you away from your routine.”
He truly doesn’t know where the invitation comes from. Not that he wouldn’t like to go on a spin with you, but when did his brain decide to unlock like this?
“You don’t look like the kind of person who owns a bike.” You are so surprised that you’ve forgotten the sadness of the conversation.
“It belonged to my family for years. It even has a name: Vhagar.”
And I lost my eye for it, he thinks, but doesn’t say.
“I very much would like to.” Your mouth says before the silly embarrassment caused by your crush can stop you.
“It is lovely plan, then!”
Your sister’s voice makes you and Aemond jump in surprise. How long was she listening? You suspect long enough, judging by the way she puts her arm over your shoulder to hug you sideways.
“I hope you have space for the desserts!” She says, dragging you towards the stairs.
“Desserts?” Comes, a bit strangled, from Aemond
“Oh, mum has overdone herself tonight!” She gleefully answers.
By the time the food is finished, Aemond feels like he could easily roll home: he is full like he had never been before. He jumps up and offers his help, when it’s time to clear the table, maybe a bit of exercise might help him and clear his head as on why it’s so easy to reach to you, of all the people in the world.
Aemond finds himself with a carton of food, near the trunk of his car. He had tried to, politely, refuse, but your mother simply ignored him and put even more food in it.
Aemond is closing the trunk, when your mum arrives with a bag of conserves and trusts it in his hands.
“I cannot accept. It is too much!” He says.
“Oh, nonsense.” She answers. “I am happy to give these to you.”
“But you’ll need those for the hotel.”
“I have more than enough stored in the kitchen there. These are the ones I use at home.”
“I can’t!”
“Yes you can.” She gently puts her hands over his. “I know how hard it is, accept a stranger’s kindness and reach out of what comforts you. But it’s worth trying.”
Aemond doesn’t believe in coincidences, but you appear in his line of sight and make a beeline for him.
“Mum? You are needed. I’ll help here.”
Your mother bids Aemond goodbye, who answers with a strange expression on his face that makes the alarm bells explode in your head.
"Aemond?" It is so strange to use his given name so freely. "Is everything all right? Or were we too much?"
His eye focuses on you, he doesn't look like a deer caught in the headlights anymore, yet his face is more animated than what you're used to see.
"Everything is fine." He says, your name follows, his voice pensive. "Your mother possesses far more insight than I thought."
You don't really understand what he's implying, it feels like he's talking more to himself than to you.
"She is an extraordinary woman."
And she truly is, to see him, for who he is, without making him feel naked and defenseless.
"Yeah-." You answer without really understanding the topic.
In silence you help him put the food in the trunk of the car, making sure nothing will be broken.
The air feel pregnant, of what you don't know, but you feel like he's going to say something and he's looking for the right words.
"About that little trip." He finally says.
"Yeah?"
"Do you still want to go?"
You don't know it, but his heart is beating so fast he's afraid it might explode.
"I can't wait. I've never ridden a bike in my entire life."
Another man would have probably said something crass about first times, he simply closes the hood of the car.
"It is the closest thing to flying you'll ever experience. You'll have fun, I promise."
"Good." There's a smile on your face. "I love fun!"
Aemond is driving home. He feels emptied by all the social interactions, yet happy, like he's not going to need to recharge, and it's a first.
His mind drifts off to Helaena and the cryptic words she's told him when he moved here, about strange twists and turns that lend to where one least expects it.
Was she talking about you? Only time will tell and, this uncertainty, doesn't scare him, for the first time in his life.
Everythig taglist: @hightowhxre
Aemond taglist: @phantoms-main-blog @fan-goddess
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can I get a corrupt Joe au info dump or masterpost or something similar? love the au and wanna know more but I don't know where to start
Alright anon, here ya go
CORRUPTED JOE AU MASTERPOST
Basically the entire premise of this au is that Dina didn't hit ZZ hard enough with the pipsqueak. It was enough to boot out ZZ but some his magic remained in Joe's body and corrupted him, turning him into an overbearing, possessive, short-tempered, homicidal monster.
Joe's sole motivation is to protect and care for the Patrol Team and the BB Brigade trio, as he now views them as his own kids. Unfortunately, Joe's idea of keeping them safe means depriving them of their freedom and refusing to let them leave Caliosteo. The staff leaders have been trying to keep the kids away from Joe for their safety, and are trying to find a way to stop Joe or get off the islands.
The reason Joe can even get away with doing any of this is because the park is closed to the public during the au and he has gone out of his way to steal everyone's dino medals (by both tricking some of them into handing the medals over and by brute force). He's also destroyed any other means of leaving the islands. Any boats or helicopters are no longer functional. VMM machines have also been disrupted. Only Joe has vivosaurs and power of any form now.
Speaking of his vivosaurs, Joe uses them all to patrol Cranial City to look for threats and any runaway flaplings. Ptera patrols the skies, Heracles the more open outdoor areas, and Bulgon any small spaces the other two can't reach. Berto, Seidon, and Argento are also available to Joe, and each of them patrols a digsite. Ptera, Heracles, and Bulgon view their roles in this as just ensuring the safety of the kids. They do not understand why the kids run away from them and Joe.
The magic has twisted Joe in mind and body. Most of his unhinged behavior is rooted in emotions that Joe already had, just forcibly cranked up to dangerous extremes.
A brief overview of the major changes Joe has undergone:
-Joe already cares about the BB Brigade commanders and the Patrol Team, even starting to view them as his own, and as such desires to protect them. Additionally, he feels guilty about not being able to keep anyone safe from ZZ, who he unleashed in the first place. The magic amplifies this to unhealthy degrees. Joe begins believing he needs to keep them safe from anything and everything at all costs, that he's the ONLY one who can do so. The kids need to be with him always.
-His anger is so so bad now. Joe already had anger issues, if him shouting at the BB Brigade and said Brigade comparing his anger to literal natural disasters is anything to go by. The magic turns him downright murderous. Anyone who Joe thinks is a threat to his flaplings needs to die. People who try to separate him from the kids for their safety are also viewed as threats. No one keeps Joe from his kids. NO ONE.
-The magic has granted him increased strength. Joe always had great endurance but he's never really been all that strong. The magic however, has made him so strong he can solo vivosaurs by himself. That's terrifying.
-Much like his vivosaurs, he doesn't know why the flaplings would ever try to leave him. Don't they know how hard he tries to protect them? Because he can't fathom the idea that maybe he's the problem, he blames the staff leaders, who he believes are trying to turn his flaplings against him. The magic makes it very hard for Joe to reflect on himself. He upsets the kids, murders and attempts to murder people, but he legitimately thinks he's just a hardworking single dad trying his best while the world seems to be unfairly against him. Basically, Joe is existing in one of those parent simulator games where things always go wrong while everyone else exists in a horror game.
-His more monstrous appearance is a rather recent development. At first his eyes were tainted purple, with the pupils glazed over. Now he's began to take on the traits of ZZ himself. Not good.
-After ingesting a miraculous fossil he can now wield the dark magic. Examples include creating ghastly flames or turning his limbs into magic ones that can be shaped and stretched however Joe sees fit. There's no known limit to his abilities.
A rough timeline of canon events so far:
Canon happens as normal.
Months go by of nothing but Joe feeling under the weather.
The park closes for maintenance, most people leave except for the staff leaders, Joe, the Patrol Team, Scatterly, BB Brigade commanders, and maybe a few normal staff that are mostly on the other islands.
Joe becomes fully corrupted, unbeknownst to everyone else.
Joe steals everyone's medals.
The Patrol Team go to the staff leaders, who are all on Cranial Isle, for help.
The staff leaders see Joe's unhinged behavior and try to leave with everyone else.
Joe becomes enraged, and starts the cat and mouse dynamic between him and the others for the rest of the au.
The staff leaders form a makeshift base on the outskirts of Cranial City, making regular supply runs while avoiding Joe.
The Patrol Team devise a plot to get their medals back, with Dina raiding Wildwest Tower while Joe and his vivosaurs are distracted. Dino and Pauleen distract Bulgon and Heracles. Todd is used to draw Joe out into Rainbow Canyon and away from the tower (wrote a mini fic for this, try using the "#zesty tries to write something" tag, you'll find it faster that way). Rupert watches Joe and Todd from the sidelines, and is there to warn Dina of when Joe comes back. Joe ends up chasing Todd with Ptera, but comes back earlier than anticipated, leaving everyone but Rupert stuck with him.
Rupert returns to the staff leaders and BB Brigade trio, and goes to scout a few days later.
The Fossildig CEO comes to Caliosteo looking for Rupert. Joe lures him just outside of the city and kills him. Rupert unfortunately is a witness, and Joe finds him and brings him back to the tower.
Lester, Lola, and Cole go looking for Rupert, finding Joe's bloody bootprints. They assume the worst.
Lester, Lola, and Cole find Stella being chased by Joe, and distract him so she can get away. A rogue S-Raptor attacks, and Cole is left injured. Joe badly beats the rogue into fleeing, and takes Cole back to the tower.
Joe ends up passing out from exhaustion, allowing all the flaplings he took so far to escape. When he awakes, he becomes enraged and physically transforms into something more monstrous.
Dina gets held hostage by Rockin' Billy, who snuck back onto the islands and is looking for revenge. The staff leaders are forced to watch as Billy hurts her, threatening them into compliance with his Raja.
Joe, hearing the commotion, slaughters Billy. The staff leaders try to make a run for it with Dina. When Joe gives chase, Stella tries to distract Joe so Terry and Kent can get away with the injured teen. It doesn't work, and with their deaths guaranteed if they get caught, they cut their losses and drop Dina, leaving her to Joe so they can get away.
If you're wondering where Scatterly is in all of this, he's trying his very best to be as out-of-the-way as possible. He likely won't survive if Joe ever turns against him, as he can't flee as well as everyone else, so he tries to appease the cowboy whenever the two interact. It's worked so far, but no one knows how long that will last.
Everyone is mad at the staff leaders for leaving Dina while Joe gets to care for and dote on her. Dina, feeling betrayed by the staff leaders for leaving her without explanation, actively seeks out Joe for comfort.
Terry gets attacked by Joe while on a supply run, and manages to impale him with a metal rod before Joe can kill him. Joe is presumed dead until his body disappears.
Joe, badly wounded, trudges to Mt. Krakanak, excavating a miraculous fossil. He removes the rod from his body and sucks up all the potent energy from the fossil, healing his wound and granting him magic use. Dina witnesses this.
Lola heads out one night for a supply run. Joe hunts her down and stalks her through a warehouse, where it's revealed he has a new heightened sense of smell and the ability to morph his limbs with dark magic.
Some additional info to consider:
Joe has started acting more animalistic, especially after his physical transformation. He growls, hisses, roars, purrs, etc. He'll sometimes move around on all fours, and he'll even build nests out of blankets and pillows, just for his flaplings. Ptera thinks he sucks at nestbuilding btw.
Basically everyone is sleep deprived, but Joe especially almost never sleeps. How can he when his beloved flaplings are out there possibly in danger and not safe with him???
Joe gets headaches when he can't be with his flaplings, making him even more ill-tempered than usual.
If Joe has other loved ones be at Caliosteo while he's corrupted he WILL try to dote on them like he does with his flaplings. Friends of his and romantic partners (ESPECIALLY romantic partners) get the controlling and overly affectionate cowboy instead of the murder one.
The kids know that something ZZ related made Joe like this and they think they can battle him to snap him out of it. Unfortunately they can't do that without vivosaurs, and there's no way in hell they're gonna try to physically fight him when he can kill them all with little effort.
Oh yeah Joe is also just bigger now lol.
I'm not sure if this is comprehensive enough for you, anon (I didn't wanna leave you waiting too long for this post). If there's anything you want clarification on, do not hesitate to ask!
#ask#the corrupted joe au#zesty's ramblings#If you guys want me to pin this post please sound off in the notes or in my askbox#this post may receive updates as I add more to this au
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Welcome to my blog!
Hello!! Welcome to murruspins :3!
This is a special interest blog, however it also kind of acts like a diary. I write down what I’m thinking or hyperfixating on, same goes with my regular interests! This blog will also have alot of alterhuman content, as it’s a big part of my identity!
About the owner of this blog…
My name is Murruyu! I’m a transfem enby, and would prefer if you used they/it/xe on me aswell as fem + neutral terms! If you don’t respect my pronouns, I’ll simply block you, no biggie! 🤍
My special interests are mcyt (hermitcraft & life series specifically), horror, metal music and bio! When I say bio and horror, I mean all aspects. I love horror games, movies, shows, etc. And I love all biology paths/subtypes! (Eg: wildlife bio, botany, palaeontology, and more!)
I’m the host of a minor bodied DID system, however I won’t get into that much on this blog, as this is my personal blog! However, I will talk about our physical disabilities because they impact my everyday life, and this is a diary blog after all! [I will mainly talk about my EDS and CFS]
As I said before.. I am an alterhuman! More specifically, here is a link to all my kintypes!
This list may be updated/edited in the future, but for now, these are all of my (known) kintypes! Some stronger than others. More specifically, I have a super strong connection to the feline clade, more so than my other kintypes. Obviously, due to being alterhuman, I do not identify as human. I instead identify as my kintypes, I may post about my alter-humanity frequently 🫶
I am ALWAYS looking for moots/friends!! Click here to see my interests + adult mutuals are okay, just no dms!
DNI/BYI
DNI:
• People who hate on ANY of my special interests. No offence, but you’re not welcome here, this is my safe space! [PS: being afraid of horror or animals is not the same as hating on them, if you have a phobia of something that’s completely fine! Just don’t insult my spintrest on my page 🤍]
• Anti alterhuman, Anti Age regression, Anti pet regression
• Endogenic systems, Profic/Proship/Darkship/anything that fits into that category.
• FURBY BLOGS!!!!! Furby centred blogs/Blogs with furbys as their theme/pfp dni. Moots r okay but please add a warning whenever you post them 😭🫶. I’m terrified of those little things.
BYI:
• I’m autistic, I need tonetags! If you’re going to ask anything, I’d appreciate you using tonetags so I can understand you better! :3
• Adults may not ask to be my friends, No offence, just for boundary and comfort reasons, I am a minor after all. Mutuals are fine!
• I generally do not engage in discourse, if that’s something you’d like to know before following! This blog is focused on being diary, alterhuman and interest themed!!
• This is my main blog! If I’m active, it’s probably here. But my side blogs are…
> @liostims , my stim blog
> @lovesicksyndicate , our sys blog
> @faunafeature , my animal info dump blog
… Please keep in mind many of these blogs may be inactive, as this is my main!
MOOT SPECIFIC:
• I would appreciate if you tag your posts to do with war, guns & etc to do with tw war or war. I grew up in a situation that causes these to be big triggers for me. Thank you 🫶
• If you post dead animal imagery PLEASE add a tw or cut off or SOMETHING. I know this is specific but I’ve had a moot do this before and it was actually insane. I admit I’m a bit sensitive but I still don’t want to see that
Finishing up/Extras…
. . . Emoji games!
How these games work; ask via the ask option, and write an emoji + any other info you’d like, and I’ll answer! Just a small game for fun!
🐾 , info dump about a random animal I’m fixating on at the time! (Please include if you don’t want a specific animal due to a fear, for example: bugs).
🐈 , song of the day! ask and I’ll give you a song that’s been stuck in my mind recently, or just a random song off my playlist!
🐍 , daily check in! I’ll give you a small rant about my day so far, and tell you how I’ve been recently! (I’ll try to keep it positive.)
"(Therian/biology/metal/anything related to my blog) culture is…" asks are also always appreciated!! I love seeing them, and I love interacting with people!!
Blog tags . . . !!
#murru mews 🐾 | my general tag! Diary entries!
#murru hisses 🐍 | vent posts
#murru’s asks : replies to my asks!
#murru’s rants : rants!! Either in response to the emoji games, or just to infodump :]
#murru’s playlist : anything to do with music!
#murru’s toybox : anything to do with my collections!! I collect a lot of things, so this tag will be full of things in my collection :]
#murru’s games : an additional tag, just for my emoji games!
PS: blog creation date.. Jan 30th 2024!
Thank you for reading !
. . . Enjoy your travels, dear friend!
#murru’s toybox#murru’s playlist#murru’s asks#murru’s games#murru’s rants#spintrest blog#autistic community#autistic#actually autistic#actually disabled#physically disabled#disabled#ehlers danlos#hypermobile ehlers danlos#ehlers danlos awareness#chronic fatigue syndrome#chronically ill#cfs#alterhuman#therian#otherkin#sysblr#biology#metal#music#diary#digital diary#animals#horror#horrorblr
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Hello :3 i have come with yet another info dump about my OL2 OC, Mei Mei! This time in step 2! I don't have a drawing of her in step 2 YET but i'll make one soon enough, i'm still learning and i try to take it slow to not tire myself too much, but i still love to share stuff about my oc, because this is such a beautiful fandom and i love to be part of it 💕 with that said, i'll get into it.
But first, i made a playlist for Teen Meiling in spotify, if you want to, you can check it out whenever you please.

— As you can see in the image, Mei still goes by a more femenine leaning, she is sure and proud of being a girl, but she tries to keep her mind open to make sure to support all her friends during their own journey to discover themselves.
— She goes by Mei instead of Mei Mei, she thinks that only one 'Mei' makes her look more mature.
— Mei started learning chinese and german to surprise Tammy and Qiu, she likes to explore and learn about different cultures and languages, and what's better to start than with her best friends cultures? It also helps that she decided to explore her own roots, since she has chinese heritage.
— She sometimes asks Qiu's parents for cute nicknames in chinese and sneaks them into conversations just to see Qiu's reaction, even if sometimes even they get confused with the meaning.
— Just reciently, Mei discovered that she likes people regardless of their gender
— Mei changed her berets for bows! And now uses her hair pulled up or braided instead of just let down.
— She is still not a fan of noise, when she listens to music she makes sure to set it in a low volume so she can be comfortable, because despite everything she loves music a lot.
— She got into baking and cooking, so Opal taught her how to use the stove and the oven safely, now Tammy and Qiu are always the firsts to taste whatever Mei tries a new recipe
— Lately, her heart starts beating faster whenever she's near Tammy, tee hee :3
— She noticed that her two best friends have drifted off from each other, and though she still likes to hang out with both of them at once, she gives each of them their own space and doesn't force them to be together when they don't want to be.
— She likes going on silent walks with Tammy, but the forest still scare her, so she uses two of her fingers to hold onto Tamarack's clothes when she allows it.
— Mei never says it outloud, but she's content with the way her friends have changed into more reserved and calmed people, she still misses their enthusiasm, but now she feels like she can keep up with them.
— Mei is still over the moon for Qiu, but she's worried that they might not feel the same for her, same case with Tammy, so she decided to keep her feelings in control and not let them be too obvious.
— She's still a little shy, but she feels more secure about herself and has opened up a little bit thanks to Tammy and Qiu.
— Mei enjoys making little braids in Qiu's hair when they allow her to, she can play with their hair for hours non-stop.
— When she's alone, she writes love poems and letters for Qiu and Tamarack, but they always end up stuffed in a shoe box in her closet, not even close to be read by the person they're meant to.
— She spents a lot of time daydreaming, she likes to stay in home more than being out there, loneliness is a feeling she have long forgotten.
— Her relationship with Opal has turn a little complicated, she still loves her mom with her whole heart, but she doesn't see Opal as someone she can go to unless there's no other choice, Qiu and Tammy are the only people she trusts completely to keep her secrets and worries.
— Mei now gets along better with Baxter and Ren, and feels silly for having resented them as a kid, though she still gets a little jealous when Qiu hangs out more with them.
— When Mei needs quick advice, she pays granny a visit to have a little talk, she feels her as her own Omi 💕
— Mei still doesn't like school not even a little bit, but she does her best to pay attention and learn a lot so she can help Autumn later because she knows they can get distracted easily during class.
— Mei enjoys singing a lot, and has a little bit of talent with it, so sometimes she starts humming without even realizing it until someone points it out.
— Mei has a new bike, but she prefers walking, she only uses her bike when she needs to be somewhere as soon as possible.
— She likes playing minecraft, and sometimes asks Qiu to sit with her to watch fnaf gameplays because she gets scared easily (this is historically accurate i just googled it ☝🤓) she also turns down the volume of those videos.
— She still wishes she could be a cloud.
Idk if i'm missing something, i feel like i do but this is all i have for now xP thanks for reading 💕
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FairlyOddParents: New Wish OC
A Fanfiction that I'll never Make including more Art 🎨 of these Lovely Characters.
Here's the Size Different Between a Grown Up Fairy and the Kids all together ❤️
WARNING ⚠️ INFO DUMP!
Know here's the Random Info Dump of Each Character you see here 👀
Species
Fairies - Has inherent their notoriously fast healing & free-spirited and whimsical Personality including the abilities to touch Clouds.
[Left Round Fairy Wing]
Pixies - Has inherent their Square-Shaped Wings & Good with hiding their Emotions by talking in a dry, boring, and monotone voice.
[Right Square Pixie Wing]
Genies - Has Unlimited Wishes with Rule Free Magic & has inherent their Flight Abilities without needing Wings.
[Has No Legs unless she Transforms]
Elves - Got their Round Head & Short Stature while inherent their Knack for Building or Creating Anything including Fixing.
[Smaller than other Kids]
Leprechauns - Inherent their Pointed Ears & Dangerous Strength & their Extremely Protective of their Stuff & Territory including People.
[Sharp Ears]
CONDITION
• Autism - A developmental disorder of variable severity that is characterized by difficulty in social interaction and communication and by restricted or repetitive patterns of thought and behavior.
• Alexithymia - Lack of emotional awareness or, more specifically, difficulty in identifying and describing feelings and in distinguishing feelings from the bodily sensations of emotional arousal.
• Insomnia - People with autism tend to have insomnia: It takes them an average of 11 minutes longer (Or didn't get any sleep at all) than typical people to fall asleep, and many wake up frequently during the night.
Some people with the condition have sleep apnea, a condition that causes them to stop breathing several times during the night.
Sleep in people with autism may also be less restorative than it is for people in the general population. They spend about 15 percent of their sleeping time in the rapid eye movement.
• Mild Germaphobe - (It depends on the situation and what type of Germs she does not like. For example, a Classmate coughed into their hands instead of in their Arms and she offered hand sanitizer to them but they said no thank you. And now I they don't feel safe and gross out at the same time including being worried.
• Memory Difficulty - Autistic people experience specific difficulties with memory and memory strengths. While memory difficulty is not part of the diagnostic criteria for autism spectrum disorder (ASD), it is a common symptom experienced by many autistic people.
• Birth Defects - Basically structural changes present at birth that can affect almost any part or parts of the Body (Heart, Brain, Foot). They may affect how the Body looks, Works, or Both. Birth defects can vary from Mild to Severe Depending who has it.
• Speech Impairment - Has Fluency Disorder & does Stammer Occasionally.
• Trypophobia - Trypophobia is mainly visual. If you have this phobia, you might feel anxiety, disgust, and discomfort when looking at things. goosebumps, chills, or the sensation of your skin crawling. a strong desire to get away from the image or object.
OCCUPATION
• Merchandise Creator
• Street Vendor
• Mailer
• Influencer (YouTube)
• Owner Of An Entertainment Business & Hygiene Products.
(Video Games/Bored Games/Comics/Manga/Cartoon/Anime/etc. Shampoo, Hand Sanitizer, Conditioner, Lotion, etc.)
POWERS/SKILLS
• Shape Shifting - Can Transform to any Objects or Animals.
• Reality-Bending Magic - Basically Brake Physics & Logic with this type of Magic.
• Teleportation - Basically can Transport anywhere in the World or Universe.
• Accelerated Healing - Their Body heal themselves very Fast but they still can die.
[Good Thing she has Plot Armor.]
• Flight: Can defy gravity and float in the air.
• Space Survivability: Can evidently survive in the vacuum of space without any sort of protective equipment.
• Rainbow 🌈 Magic - Instead of Farting Rainbows like Leprechauns, they use it to make Magic Runes or Marks.
• Extream Luck Magic - Use this Magic to be extremely Lucky or to Protect themselves from Danger & turn bad days into good days.
• Supper Strength & Good Stamina - Extremely Strength & Run or Fly Very Fast.
• Choas Magic - Since their Bloodline is from 5 Magical Being, their Magic is Very Strong, but also it can Easily Kill themselves as well.
[She have to be Very Carful when using Magic.]
• Crafts & Builds - Their really Good at Creating or Fixing Stuff.
• Acting - Their Very Skillful of Acting so their very good at Manipulating & Tricking People, they mostly use this skill for Good & their Shows & Games they are creating.
• Immune to Magic Influence - Yup, Don't have to worry about getting mind controlled or etc.
Weaknesses
• Armadillos: The armor of an armadillo is immune to magic.
• Sensitivity - Blake's body reacts to the environment they are in Including drugs, chemicals, or other substances. For example, a person who is sensitive to the sun may have skin that burns easily or get a rash when exposed to the sun.
• Magical Build-up - Blake will explode & turns into Magic Dust if they don't use there Magic for 3 Months of Time depending on what they do, since Blake use their Magic Offten they don't have to worry plus. If they Explode that Leftover Magic could Knock Magical Being Out or make them Dizzy or a state of Confusion which is not a good idea.
(Since they don't want to get Captured or People Finding Out about their Existence & try to use them. Also the Part that they don't want to go to Magic School since the School System in their Past Life is SMOOF UP!)
Hot 🔥 & Cold 🥶 - Blake gets Extremely Weak & Tried in the Heat while the Cold they are very Active & Strong depending on what they do & the temperature in the environment.
Laziness - Blake is Extremely Lazy & Does not want to Work Hard 😑 so they usually Hire People to do it for her unless it's something she wants to do & Enjoy or Motivated.
HOBBYS
• Reading 📚 Fanfiction or Manga & Comics
• Creating Fanmade Food
• Story Telling & Cosplaying
• Creating or Listening 🎶 to Music 🎵
• Creating Video Games & Acting
• Creating Shows & Movies 🎬
• Creating Educational Shows & Video Games
• Role-playing
• Eating Snacks From Different Countries & Shows that Exist in The Fairly OddParents Universe including Plants.
• Helping Characters to have a Happier Life & Character Development to be a Better Person In The Future.
• Doesn't care what people think of them, she just loves to be themselves, & Hopefully survive from any Toxic Stereotypes.
• Having Multiple Identity & Creating New Invention With Magic.
(Made Sure That their the Only Once, who has access to their Invention including their most Trusted Friends who is their Counterpart.)
GOALS
• To Have Good Security on Everything.
• To Live a Happy & Confortable Life.
• An Extremely Clean & Safe Environment.
• Healthy Body With Good Hygiene.
• Make a Safe Workplace for Staff.
• Destroy Gender Stereotypes.
• Create Badass Female Characters & Feminine Male, characters can relate to while slowly Influenced the new Generation of Kids not not make the same mistakes from the old Generation.
• Secretly Be Extremely Rich while Having All My Money Safe 💰 In a High Quality Bank 🏦
• Make Friends While Creating My Fake PERMANENT RECORD for my Backstory.
• Change The Past & Future for the Better.
• Make Sure any Wish Timmy or other Kids make won't Effect themselves and their Friends at all just to be Safe.
DESCRIPTION
No Magical Being or None-Magical Beings knows about their Existence and only a few select people knows. ✨️ Florian Blake Harper lives in their Fanmade Country that became Reality once she got Reincarnated into their Merge AU Universe they wanted to Live in.
Blake's Home Country is called "GenvesFepre"
It kinda works Similar like "Hogwarts" we're Magical Beings are allowed to know their Existence while Muggles are ignorant.
But in this Reality, Magical Being who are Born in that Country are not allowed 🚫 to tell people outside of their Home Country. Only a Few Select People are allowed to know and can visit this Place 🏡 and Experience their Culture.
It's a Country we're Magical and None-Magical Beings are Living Together in Harmony like Humans, Fairies, Pixies, Genies, Elves, Leprechauns and Surprisingly Anti-Fairly live Among them Perfectly Fine without Causing Trouble and Living their own Lives.
If a Foreigner somehow got Accepted into "GenvesFepre" is literally a Utopia to these people because how Perfect it seems, but the problem is... it is Perfect! Since the System in Place is Flawless. NO WONDER why these people who are Born in GenvesFepre are Perfectly Happy and Content with their Lives.
Of course there's a Few Bad Apples and People who are not Content with their Lives, but Lucky the System deals with these type of People Perfectly Fine, after all "GenvesFepre" made sure the that these People who are Born in their Country are Unaware of their Perfect and Flawless System in Place, to help them Grow and Learn and Find their Purpose in Life.
But it really depends on the Person because the System can't Reform every Bad Apple or Save People who doesn't want to get Saved, since it's there Lives and Actions they Decide to make. And they have to Deal with the Karma Bitting them Back or be Sented to Death.
INVENTORY
Blake made their own Magical Phone 📱 since they don't want to pay any Bills or have anyone tracking them down, please they can change their phone to Camera Mode to take better Pictures 📸 while being able to print 🖨 Stuff Out.
It also Works like a Magic Wand, even though she doesn't need a Wand in the First Place to make Wishes come Ture, but she can use her Phone as a Wand if she wants to.
Sapphire is Lively, Vivacious, Intelligent, and Affectionate. They can make for great service dogs with adequate training and are best suited for mental and intellectual disabilities rather than physical ones.
Blake legit Befriended Star Stial because it's Cool to find another Hybrid other than themselves.
Flake's Help Deal with Yugopotamia Customers since Blake is too Germaphobe to Deal with them.
#FOPANewWish#fop a new wish#FairlyOddParents#fairly oddparents oc#FairlyOddParentsOC#fairly oddparents: a new wish#FairlyOddParentsArt#fairly oddparents art
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Waywardtale seems really interesting so far, can I get some more details?(please info dump if you have time I love it when people infodump)
OK THIS MIGHT BE A BIT MESSY BC IT'S AN INFODUMP
Also I have the designs for a lot of characters! Still working on them 💔💔
EXPLANATION!!!!!!:
So this whole au revolves around Charlie, and she falls into the mountain instead of Chara, so it's like, if Chara never fell
And she's totally freaked out by the whole situation with the monsters because she was one of those homeschooled kids where their parents won't teach them things they don't want them to know, so she has no idea who or what the monsters are. Sooo she kinda kills a few monsters out of panic-- smaller ones like froggit?
But Toriel takes her in because she feels bad and also because that's just what she does
Charlie gets used to it a bit, but still has a weird grudge, especially for the people outside of the ruins? But she also doesn't exactly know who they are, not really
So flash forward a bit, they're now angsty teens and the Dreemurrs leave to New Home because the ruins are getting way too out of shape
However, Chalrie and Asriel had a huge fight, and turns out she's developed some sort of small agoraphobia? So she ends up staying in the ruins. They would've taken her with them but she didn't wanna go because she was worried about what else might've been out there
And so Charlie ends up being the new Toriel, taking care of the ruins and what not. Yknow knock knock jokes the whole shabang, but she doesn't exactly have the same bond as Toriel and Sans. Every time she hears a knock knock joke she's like "your jokes fucking suck" and Sans is like "I think they're humerous" ba dum tss and then she's like "that was awful....tell me another". Just more of Charlie needing someone to keep her company so she doesn't go absolutely insane
But the difference in this is, humans aren't really interested in the monsters rn since the whole Asriel and Chara thing didn't happen
So no one's coming down to the mountain
And Error is like "this is a waste of space???? They're literally doing nothing it's so boring" and so he starts messing up stuff in the universe to be like "oh, whoops looks like it's defective and it's totally not my fault"
Ink ends up visiting the au one day in the ruins when he's fixing whatever Error had done and Charlie finds him and she's like "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU" and he's like "NOO NO NO I'M SAFE I PROMISE LOOK" and draws some stupid looking doodle, which is probably the worst way to plead your case
They talk for a bit, be it begrudgingly, but he has to calm her down somehow. And then he finds out she's been alone all this time and decides to become her friend to keep her company. Error finds our and is like "YOU'RE RUINING MY WHOLE PLAN ARE YOU SERIOUS" His jealous rage gets the best of him for sure, but also just normal rage, and he attempts to destroy the universe
Again
And again
And again
And it's not really working
And that's all l've got
Just Ink being friends w her and distracting her from the fact that Error is probably trying to blow up that au
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