#i am just one confused asexual how am i supposed to be keeping up with all the shit this show just threw at me

[sneepity-snoop-snorpity-sneep]

me after watching the arcane update

also me:

[afreakingdork]

You Are My Sunshine, My Only Moonshine - Chapter 9

RotTMNT x Reader

I am constantly blown away by this chapter art by @yamin-yups

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Michelangelo (TMNT)/Reader, Michelangelo (TMNT)/You, Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Donatello (TMNT)/You

Warnings: POV Second Person, Gender Neutral Reader, Anxious Reader, Introverted Reader, Stuttering, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Romance, Love, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Unrequited Love, Rejection, Aromantic Asexual Michelangelo (TMNT), Bisexual Donatello (TMNT), Pansexual Leonardo (TMNT), Lesbian Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit, Demisexual April O'Neil (TMNT), Implied Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit/April O'Neil/Sunita, Endgame Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Romantic Love, Platonic Love, Panic Attacks, Sexuality Crisis, Agoraphobia, Social Anxiety, Happy Ending, Fluff

Synopsis:  You’ve lost most of your life to anxiety and fear. Now, in your late 20s, you are desperate to reclaim it and during one such outing you encounter the sun personified. With his and his similarly celestially inspired family, will you finally reach your goal or will you lose yourself along the way?

This chapter contains reference to body dysmorphia. Remember that what you feel is completely valid, but we can sometimes see ourselves differently than we really are. Please keep yourselves safe.

Also available on Ao3

First 💛 Previous

“Maybe we take a break from going out into the packed public for once?” Mikey was upside-down, but compensated by holding his phone the opposite way. 

It put him right side up in the video chat, but the view was extra blurry. “Is that… okay?”

“I’m the one suggesting it!” Mikey stuck out his tongue, but his reflection seemed to confuse him on which way the appendage should go. “It’s been awhile. I haven’t been able to see you.”

“Yeah… well…” Though for you it would have been predictable, Mikey hadn’t felt the firsthand effects of your setbacks yet. 

Panic attacks always caused you to withdraw into yourself. 

You weren’t supposed to.

There were times when it was easy to keep going.

Others, such as now, left you homebound for as long as society allowed.

The push to normalcy now included your thoughtful friend.

“Do you know after my tremors went away, I spent months avoiding art because I was afraid of how it would look?” Mikey told you casually. 

You weren’t sure what he was talking about.

You tried to recall something about tremors, but came up short.

You wanted to ask more, but there was a more startling aspect than the content itself.

You couldn’t believe there was ever a period where Mikey avoided art as he had been nothing, but a loud proponent of all its merit.

“Why?”

“Because I knew my level and then… I didn’t. I knew I’d have to get back there. It was like riding a skateboard, but needing to take that time? For a second time. Chancing the bad result? It was like my healing was one thing and then by doing that it would show me just how much further I still needed to go. Like that dude with the cat and the box. I didn’t want to open it and find out. I couldn’t do it.”

“Isn’t the saying… something… about riding a bike?”

“We were skateboard tots!” Mikey rolled over and with it so did his camera, inverting the image.

You nodded lightly.

“I switched up crafts. Started new ones that weren’t so finger focused. Pour paints and candle work!” He made grabby hands at the lens as he fixed his phone angle.

“Something low key…” You hummed where you were sitting at the foot of your bed.

“Yeah, something quiet, calm, and… oh! Oh yeah!” There was another flip, but this one was out of excitement.

“D-don’t… bust through a wall…!”

Mikey appeared within a flurry of static. “Did you just make a Kool-Aid Man joke?”

“I make jokes!”

The wattage of his smile turned up to a blinding degree. “Well then I’ve got just the wall to bust through!”

-

“No.” Donnie glowered over his shoulder.

“Please!” Mikey bounced his plea with his head straight up to the ceiling of the garage you were currently in.

An oddity in the subway, but something you imagined had to exist based on logic, your eyes were openly roving around the tidy depot.

“Absolutely not.” Lifting out from under a hood and minding his head, Donnie craned an elbow to the engine block he was working on. “You know you’ve been banned.”

“One time!” Mikey groaned.

“No!” Donnie felt the need to rip off his leather work gloves to throw an unencumbered finger in Mikey’s face. “You were banned once after crashing eleven separate times!!”

“Eleven?!” You squeaked.

Mikey flipped back and forth between the two of you, obviously caught in who to address first. “My driving is fine!” He chose you and then flipped to Donnie. “I’ve changed!”

From the duffel that was slung around your body, you had already been clinging to the strap as it gave you something comforting to hold on to. With the new knowledge that you had almost been driven somewhere rural by someone with that kind of driving record, you now scooped up the entire sack to soothe yourself. 

“Forget that.” Donnie flicked his gaze to you. “You’d need a full crash suit to survive him.” He then folded his gloves into a pair and went to check his tool box.

You wilted further.

“We’re already packed!” Mikey rounded a new argument. “This is going to be our big, no-stress, relaxing getaway and you’re making it exactly not that!” 

“That’s unfortunate. The bus station isn’t far.” Donnie knelt down to get a wrench.

“And how’s that going to work!? We get dropped at some station and walk to the cabin!? You know it’s in the middle of nowhere!” Mikey stepped up to throw menace over his brother.

Donnie smelled it a mile away and lifted his head, pouring twice the malice. “Oh, you want to play?”

Mikey gulped and nodded his head once. “Let us borrow a car, the tank, a shell cycle, whatever! You’re being unfair!”

“Your planning is poor.” Donnie was slow to get on one knee. “You’re ill equipped.” To the other, he got a foot under him. “You’ve informed no one.” Rising to his towering height above his brother, he loomed. “You walk into my garage, where I am in the midst of my own personal and much needed zen in the form of refurbishing my newest baby and expect me to drop the keys of another into your hands knowing full well that you have destroyed more vehicles on more occasions than I can count on our joined mutant fingers and toes because you just so happened to suddenly decided that you needed to take a weekend trip with your friend of which whom you have a similar slapdash scheme going on with to go to our family’s cabin up north on a whim!?!”

Having watched Donnie not take a single breath, you backed up nearly the same distance that Mikey’s head had shrunk down into his shell.

“Y-yes?” Mikey peeped.

“No.” Donnie said the word firm and quiet, but punctuated it with a tap to Mikey’s plastron which caused the stiff turtle to fall over. “Now leave me to my work.”

Only a shell laying there, you leaned forward to look over Mikey without compromising your spot.

Donnie swung his wrench and moved over to a creeper with the intention to disappear under what looked like a turtle-themed moon buggy.

“You-” Your voice echoed in the garage and you tensed up.

Mikey’s head emerged from his shell to peek at you.

Donnie halted his motion, but didn’t turn.

“You… um… could… come with us?”

You watched Donnie’s lips wobble with disdain.

“N-Not a-as a d-driver! Y-you said…”

In a loud pop, all of Mikey’s limbs emerged. “That’s a great idea!!!”

In a smooth rotation, Donnie both turned and lifted his wrench with a threat.

Mikey crab walked several paces away.

“I’m disappointed.” Donnie sent a glare in your direction. “If your thought is even-” He caught a glimpse of his wrench. “-5/16ths as moronic as his then you are banned from the garage itself. Know that, would you still like to continue speaking?”

Gaze plummeting, your heart tried to escape and you screwed the whole of you shut to keep it inside.

Your entire body shook with the force of your nerves and you had to wait until your BPMs dropped to a manageable limit before you could manage speech. “You… said… m-much needed… so maybe… the trip would… well… be calming… for you too?”

There was a clink of metal hitting the ground.

Banned.

You were banned from the garage.

That was fine.

In theory, it wasn’t.

In theory, you were mortified.

Despite your best efforts, you had never been banned from anything.

Now you were.

A glaring dark spot on your permanent record.

Was Mikey a bad influence?

“You do say driving gets your mind off things…” Mikey said with a sudden supportive starkness.

You kept your gaze firmly rooted to the floor in shame.

“Also hold up!” In a slap of feet against concrete, Mikey righted himself. “You take a few of those things back, Don! I may have pushed the idea through, but it was not poorly planned or ill equipment or whatever you said! Y/N worked crazy hard on putting together everything in the short time frame I laid out!!”

You twitched.

“There’s maps, multiple trails marked, a calculated amount of water, with extra rations, flares… Like do you think this other bag is mine? Heck no! I’m not bringing anything! Both these bags are Y/N’s! They’re both stuffed with… stuff! Like-like!” You felt Mikey come over to you. “How you contacted the ranger’s station to tell them we’d be in the area? I’ve never even thought of that! We’ve never done that have we, Dee?”

Donnie continued his bout of silence that you didn’t dare look upon.

“What else…?” Mikey slapped his forehead. “I mean, come on! I can’t even remember it all!”

“I… got that satellite phone… you were pretty excited… about it.” You mumbled to the ground.

“With the backup batteries, Donald!” Mikey hummed a self-important sound. “The backup batteries!!”

The garage made it very clear that Donnie was walking over to you.

You bounced ever so slightly to garner the courage to meet his eye.

“Who did itinerary?” Donnie asked. 

“Me.” Mikey remarked casually.

“I assume food too?” Donnie’s voice was heavy with judgment. 

“Nope.” You could see a swoop as Mikey folded smug arms.

“That’s not quite…” You cleared your throat. “Mikey… shared his… favorite dishes that you… all make…when you… go.”

Donnie dipped into your eye line and you startled.

He’d bent at his waist and come down at a perfect angle.

You stared with warped lips.

“How long?” He narrowed his gaze.

“T-the trip?” Your gaze wobbled.

Mikey opened his mouth and Donnie threw out an arm that, by the sound, must have slapped the younger in the face.

“Yes.” Donnie kept his hand in place.

“Tonight… tomorrow… back Sunday?”

“Is that a question?” Donnie’s head tilted.

Mikey grunted, annoyed.

“No…” You got out, quiet.

“You agreed knowing full well you’d be alone with him?”

Slapped with a similar heat from the first time you’d realized that fact, you gave a tight nod.

‘We have separate rooms!’ Mikey mumbled through closed lips with surprising clarity.

“And that’s okay?” Donnie disappeared.

You chased him up to find he’d released Mikey and was waiting on him for an answer.

“It’s a no brainer.” Mikey nearly rolled his eyes. 

Donnie’s brow lowered, unsatisfied.

“Yes, it’s okay because it isn’t a thing.” Mikey huffed around his clarification.

“I suppose… I’ve been persuaded.” Donnie looked down thoughtfully and you watched him trace back to where he’d dropped his wrench.

Mikey jumped into the air with a sudden bout of energy and caught your hands to spin you.

“Y-y-yay!” You stutter, stalling on the rotation.

“Cabin, here we come, baby!” Mikey cheered. 

“I need my things!” Donnie barked. “And you.”

You jolted. “Y-yes?”

“You will send me triplicate copies of your plans.”

“S-sure…” You spastically patted yourself down for your phone.

“I refuse to engage with either of your antics.” Donnie’s own appeared in his hand. “I am no third wheel. I am coming because I will apparently have to deal with your whining otherwise and because I am not in the mood for the lecture from Nardo and Raphael when they return.”

“Have they texted yet?” Mikey peered over Donnie’s shoulder.

“No. Security detail means one must pay-” Donnie suddenly dropped and ducked through Mikey’s legs in one fluid movement. “-attention. This is why you weren’t requested.”

“And why didn’t they request you, hm?” Mikey pushed his lips into one corner of his mouth.

“Because…!” Donnie trailed off with widened eyes. “My talents lie elsewhere! Enough interruptions. I will drive and then you will leave me be! I am to have my zen! Is that understood?”

“Yeah, yeah, crystal.” Mikey finally did roll his eyes.

Donnie took a few steps away as you found your phone and held it unsure of how to send him the details.

“He’s totally going because he heard ‘yakiniku’ when you mentioned we were making my favorite foods.” Mikey walked over to you with a smirk.

You watched Donnie take an irritated pause before continuing on to get his things.  

-

The ride in the tank had passed with booming music and a tour from Mikey that you only visually participated in because you were terrified to move about the cabin. The younger seemed not to notice as he explained parts with stories more than function. Donnie alternatively, had shades on that further marred his calculated expression and he said nothing as the studious driver.

Leaving the city and entering scenic woodlands, you were soon left to admire the views until you eventually deviated off the road toward the cabin. Tracking it with the little local map you had found, you busied yourself in the comfortable way that most people disliked on road trips: silence in a cozy bubble all your making.

There didn’t have to be talk, that’s what road trip mixes were for.

You only made exceptions for car games. 

You liked that they had simple rules and there were little stakes to be had. 

You only wished cars were safer modes of transport.

There was also something to be said about environmental impact and the culture of automobiles in America, but other than that, you found them nice.

Pulling up to what you imagined was a quiescent place, Mikey could not be restrained a second longer.

Out of the tank in a flurry, you watched through the windshield as his form screamed straight up the cabin’s steps. “He doesn’t do great on car rides, huh?”

“Sitting still for too long? Michael?” Donnie rose from the captain’s chair.

You gave a small smile and gathered up the few things you’d taken inside with you. Your actual bags were stored in an outer compartment and Donnie waited for you as a safety net as you made the harrowing steps down the tank ladder and to the ground. Landing with little fault, you joined him in getting the luggage until Mikey tore back over to grab some of the load. He talked loudly of dust that had accumulated and Donnie griped at him that it was obvious they’d need to clean.

You fondly watched the two bicker and set-up became the next directive. Throwing back plastic sheets that coated furniture, Donnie had a multitude of inventions to clear the space quickly. You had to run to the windows to release the dust tornadoes formed. Making it out mostly unscathed, you then helped Mikey hang bug nets. With the late Spring weather warming the air, soon everything was prepped and Mikey did a little closing dance number, capping off the preparatory part of the trip.

“Swimming hole time!” Mikey cheered and then turned knowingly on Donnie. “Then BBQ and prompt lights out so I can make a lumberjack breakfast first thing!”

“We’re grinding beans… we roasted…” You offered softly. “Uh… Coffee… beans… that is…”

“Oh yeah, I forgot we took that class.” Mikey chuckled. “You almost fell into that sack!”

You squashed a noise of distress at the memory.

Understanding the schedule, Donnie dismissed himself with a turned foot and headed to one of the cabin’s many rooms. You were left to look about the quintessential log cabin where the huge living space and connected kitchen then butted up against a row of doors. They spoke of many rooms that traced the back of the cabin and then up a staircase to a second floor. From what you could see, there were about eight rooms in all. The entire cabin then had a wraparound porch that extended into the wilderness. It was land that both belonged to nature and not, but Mikey had been cagey about revealing property lines. 

“Welp!” Mikey folded his hands on his hips. “Your boy needs to get wet before he explodes.”

You gawked at him.

“Seriously!” He was looking out over the cabin with a vacant stare that held a sort of unhinged quality. “First the car, then stuck inside? This is not an inside trip. if I am not unleashed in the next, oh I don’t know… 2 minutes, I’m going to lose it!”

“Uh…!”

“You got those trail maps?” He turned, both looking through you and not at.

“Y-yes!”

“I color coded the one to the watering hole. Orange, obviously.” Mikey approached with a waggling brow ridge. “I saw you in the car, keeping perfect pace. It was awesome.”

“Just to s-stay b-busy!”

“Uh huh! Your smile said otherwise! You’ll meet me there then! Same way!” He patted your shoulder once with a whack before bolting out the door.

You stared after him now knowing why he’d chosen to travel in his swimsuit.

Looking down at your road trip ensemble, you still felt sure of your decision to take the few hour drive comfortably.

There was a noise of a door opening and Donatello emerged, changed into a casual outfit punctuated by purple swim trunks.

You stared at him and felt a little like a caught fawn.

Donnie took you in before his gaze dulled with understanding. “He ditched you.”

“I’m… going to meet him.”

“He always does this.” Donnie responded dismissively. “You should have seen him in time out as a tot.”

“Oh?”

“One minute in time out for him was comparative to thirty for the rest of us.” Walking around a large kitchen bar, Donnie studied the rations.

You took a few steps toward him for the sake of it.

“He’s so impatient.” Donnie murmured, poking several waters aside to find a carton of juice boxes that Mikey had insisted on. He quickly tossed the set into the fridge. “He’s not even an aquatic turtle.”

You sort of wished you had done more research past looking up pictures of their species.

“You’re losing daylight.” He emerged from the fridge. “Or are you not swimming?”

“I-I am…!” You squeezed a fist to your chest. “Are… you coming too?”

Donnie blinked slowly at you. “No, why?”

“Oh…” You shouldn’t have assumed. He’d already told you otherwise. “Sorry… your bottoms… I thought…”

“Board shorts.” He punctuated the words with an odd accent.

You gave an unsure nod.

“I’m glad their sign was translated.” He glanced down at himself.

“Sorry…” You murmured when he made no further movement and quickly left to avoid any awkwardness.

You weren’t sure what you expected.

It’s not like you wanted to exclude Donnie.

You knew that pain too well.

You also didn’t want to make him feel unwelcomed.

You were painfully aware of that too.

He hadn’t wanted to be a third wheel and you had made it a silent mission to keep that from happening.

Something else you’d experienced in the past, you’d been the unwilling chaperone on more than one occasion just to satisfy parent’s minds. The good one, in their minds, you had always been ditched and the feeling wasn’t one you cared for. Shoving past the bygone era, you were seen now and you tried to relish that.

The sun’s attention was a fickle thing, but you were getting more use to losing Mikey’s. Something you thought should scare you, instead you felt your friendship with Mikey was stronger than ever. You no longer feared losing him in the same intangible way and you weren’t sure if you should crop that up to Mikey’s feelings about you. Instead it felt as though you’d reached a better status quo where Mikey’s running off felt more like the sun moving on its predetermined rotation. It would eventually round back to you and in that way you expected Mikey’s claustrophobia even if you hadn’t known about it.

You picked a room at random and rummaged through the duffel that you placed on your bed. There was a woodsy smell that teetered on musty in a way that spoke of it being well lived in even if its occupants only came every so often. You had your own little stand up mirror, nightstand, dresser, and a closet though you doubted you’d use anything past the first. Pulling out a single slick piece of black fabric, you double checked the door was closed before changing.

The perfect swimsuit was one you hadn’t imagined you’d find. Not one for flashy things, you only wanted a muted cover that also happened to cover you. Water did unimaginable things to fabrics and you hated the way it clinged. You wanted something you could disappear in, that brought no unnecessary attention, and could be forgotten on your end. Finding it in a matter of minutes into shopping as opposed to the years it took when you were younger, the item had even been on sale.

Stepping into it and pulling it up, you shimmied into the fabric and turned for that same show stopping image you’d seen in the changing room.

What stared back was an image of allure.

No.

That was wrong.

That’s not what it had looked like.

It had covered you.

It hadn’t accentuated anything.

It was simple.

You squirmed, changing angles in hopes that it would get better, but each only revealed more.

What had changed?

You’d purchased it this week.

Were you hallucinating?

Was there something in the wooden walls?

Had the tank crashed and this was you playing out some morbid purgatory?

You pinched yourself.

A sting bit your forearm and you threw your gaze back at the mirror for the unwilling shapes it concocted.

This wasn’t right.

You wanted to swim.

There was no way you could.

Miserably turning away from your image, you rooted through your bag for a cover up. Finding one in some oversized t-shirt you’d brought for comfort, you held it and hated that this wasn’t the way you imagined it would be employed. You figured it’d be a back-up pajama top and not something to hide your shame away in. Clinging to the fabric, you hastily pulled it over your head with an imaginary clock ticking away because Mikey was waiting.

You were ruining everything.

Stumbling out into the living room, you found yourself alone.

Momentarily thrown, but shaking off how Donnie wasn’t a priority right now and the guilt that came with that, you went for your pile of maps. Finding the trail one with the orange lines, you gathered some shoes and careened down the porch.

Buzzing insects mocked your sloppy descent as you rotated the map to be on your course. Following it more than your way, you took the necessary inlet and folded its winds to a drawn T. Bushes and trees concealed you, but the splashing of what was beyond reached your ears faster than you’d hoped. A journey not long to its destination, you slowed as you came to the final bend. You could hear Mikey blabbing presumably to himself as he hooted before resounding sloushes followed. In your mind he jumped off some kind of ledge, you took a deep breath before making the final steps leading to the watering hole.

Somewhere quaint if you had the perspective for such a thing, a tree towered comfortably overtop a sizable pool. One mucked up from algae as the little stream feeding into it didn’t stir the water near enough, you watched roiling green as Mikey emerged with a flip of his wet hair.

“Y/N!” Mikey shouted happiness. “You made it! Come on in! The water’s fine!!” He swam backwards as if giving you room.

The guilt was staggering.

No, Mikey.

I won’t be swimming today.

My body looks like shit and I can’t stand it.

I’ll watch you though.

Have all the fun.

You deserve it.

Signing off your name, you slunk forward only to clip a sight of mixed purples.

Donnie craned his neck back to view you from beneath a large sun hat he’d put on. Sitting on a few rocks that made up the closest edge to you, his lids lowered in a way that said he was reading you like a book.

Hating how he did that, you squeezed the bulky hem of your shirt and walked up. “Uh… M-Mikey…?”

“A-yup!” He stopped splashing to hear you better.

“The… um… car ride… sort of took… more out of me than… I thought? Would it be alright if-!”

“You don’t have to swim.”

You blinked wide and over to him.

“If you don’t want to, don’t!” Mikey continued on. “Let’s compare: are you upset I’m swimming when you don’t want to?”

“O-of c-course not!”

“Then why should I care in the reverse?” He fell back and floated, eyes closed, on his shell.

That was right in a way.

Sweet in another.

You wished you’d put together the same reaction.

Inching closer, it felt like pouring water into an overtaxed bucket.

Another guilty drop in your damnation.

You’d seen your friend in a bad light.

Shirking all the more, you toed off your shoes and let your feet lay flat on one of the worn rocks. It put you near Donnie who’d become the moon on a sunny day’s backdrop. He shined upon the same stone and illuminated its age. The rocks were older and wiser than you’d ever be. They never worried about getting wet. They only knew how to exist, something you wished came as easily to you. Sitting down because you needed more of you to drink from the stone’s wisdom, you kept a lowered head to the water’s edge. It sloshed in a beckoning way and you imagined it too would feel good in a different way. 

You really had wanted to swim.

Imaging your tears would do little to fill up the pool while also overflowing it, you heard a tepid sigh beside you.

Eyes wide and shooting up across the pond, you then turned to where you’d sat down next to Donnie.

Someone who you mistakenly forgot about during your pity party.

How was that for a third wheel?

“It’s always something with you.” He spoke softly.

“Sure is.” You gave an awkward laugh.

“That’s…” He made a little concerned noise. “… I didn’t mean it in a cruel way.”

“You didn’t have to. It is.” You threw your legs off the rock and threatened to drown your toes in the water. “It’s a cruel fate. I’m…” You remembered yourself. “Sorry. Nothing. What are you doing here?”

“My species is aquatic.”

You snuck a glance. “You’re pretty dry then.”

“You are too.”

You frowned deeply and watched Mikey pick up a sun drunk grin as he spread his limbs out to float on. “I don’t know why I feel like this. Everything was fine before…”

“With what?”

“This…” You threw a hand over yourself. “Stupid ugly swimsuit.”

You could feel Donnie’s gaze linger.

“Just trust me.” You folded your legs against yourself.

 “I’m not sure I do.”

You squinted at the glistening water before looking at him.

“I barely know you.” He responded simply, waiting there.

“Oh.”

“Disappointed?”

“In what?” Your ugly side was leaking far beyond the reach of what your shirt could cover. “I didn’t think you trusted me. You may have been wrong about me being bad, but that wouldn’t make you less suspicious. So it’s not that. What’s left? The swimsuit sucks. It’s not like you wanna drool over it. I don’t want anyone too. I wanted to swim.”

Hearing your wish aloud, you pressed hard on your chest with your legs.

You could flatten out your entire form if only you were malleable.

“The water is opaque. I can alert Mikey and we’ll turn away so you can get in.”

You felt too far gone for solutions.

You weren’t worth the trouble.

Burying your chin into your knees, you stewed.

“You know how many times the others have made fun of my board shorts?”

You told yourself you didn’t care.

If that was the case then Donnie didn’t either. “Hundreds, though it might be my attitude when wearing them. I like the excuse. To have my day off and not worry about pleasantries. To not have to tailor myself to others. I can tell them to shove it. It’s my day off and how I look isn’t anyone’s damn business.”

Sounded like an odd hill to die on.

“Everyone should have those days.” Donnie craned his arms behind him and leaned back to soak up the rays he was in.

The tree overhead was clipping your light.

Donnie was free. 

Mikey was free. 

Head lifting a little, you pondered your friend.

He’d needed to get out and he did.

Now he was a vision, glowing amongst the pool.

In contrast there was you, wadded up and tossed away without even giving yourself the chance.

Another terrible reminder that this was the point.

This was what you were trying to avoid.

This was what you were trying to learn from.

Mikey didn’t even have to do anything to be himself.

He just was.

Instead of his usual bustle of light, he shined by matter of existence.

That was why you chased him. 

You wanted that. 

Staring at him until sun spots mucked up your vision, you turned the mass to Donnie.

Beside you in the same pose, he was more calculated.

He had to put on his wares.

His was an unseen struggle you hadn’t considered.

No one gleamed quite like Mikey.

That didn’t mean they didn’t shine in their own right.

Donnie’s darkened scales only threw prisms in a different way.

The cool moon’s glow.

Letting your legs fall, this time your feet drew to the allure of the water.

Just out of reach, you stared hard, making sure the pair would keep their eyes closed.

The both of them were still as if asleep, but you waited past whatever insect was chirping before you slowly tugged your hem out from under you. Emerging without more than the sound of rustling fabric, you rolled your shirt up around your waist. The next move was one harder to conceal, you threw a desperate glance at your friend.

Water rocked the resting Mikey like a babe and you wanted to feel that too.

You wanted to be nestled by the sun’s glow.

You wanted to feel weightless and have those burdens removed.

You yanked the shirt over your head and dropped it to your side.

Donnie stirred at the sound, but didn’t open his eyes.

“It’s… It’s okay… I’m not… okay… but I think I… I don’t want to care…”

He cracked a lid and stared skyward.

“It looked so different in the store.”

“How so?” He asked a whispy cloud.

“It looked… I don’t know… covering? Like it didn’t… show any bits. Like it… hid them away.”

He blinked slow and comfortable. “I’m a designer, you know.”

“What?”

“Genius Built Apparel. Where fashion meets function.”

You stared on.

Of course he was. 

He also built a tank and a legion of dusting robots. 

If this were any other family you’d think he was pulling your leg. 

You’d seen more than enough to believe. 

Most of your stare came from the cocky name. 

Though even that made sense. 

Donnie was a carefully constructed sphere. 

Who were you to take away his gloating? 

He tilted his head just enough to glimpse your face. “I’m serious. I’ve dissuaded Mikey from many a faux pas.”

You shook your head.

“May I?”

“What?” You switched to eyeing him.

“I can take a clinical eye. Examine stitching. Find your err.”

You bounced one of your legs.

You did want to know where it had all gone wrong.

You could theoretically fix it then.

Wash this all away in the water you so desperately wanted to get in.

“You won’t make it weird?”

“I don’t drool on the metaphorical clock; you were right about that, but I understand your concern. I have accosted you before.”

“Different kind of weird. That was mean weird. You were a jerk weird.”

Donnie chuffed and it rolled down his plastron.

You watched it fall into his lap before forcing your gaze back to his face in a rush. “Promise… Promise I can pull your hat down if you… do anything.”

“I won’t so a simple enough agreement. Sure.”

“Go… ahead…” You folded your arms to your sides, obviously nervous as you listened to his clothes move.

In a twist, he was examining you and he gave a faint hum.

Not wanting to see exactly how he saw you and growing miserable, you stared into the water.

You could throw yourself in and be done with it.

“Here.” He spoke.

You moved to the sound on instinct and found him pointing to your hip.

His eye was indeed one you imagined a tired scientist gave the samples he was cursed to study.

You immediately relaxed. “What?”

“This ruching here is meant to cover cellulite when the fabric gets wet. When dry it acts a similar concealment, but the way the strips are sewn are for the first purpose.”

“Oh…” You tilted your head to look.

“Thing is, it’s also leading lines.” He didn’t get any closer, but he mimed tracing the seams of the fabric that curled around your hip and beneath where you were sitting. “It’s meant to direct the gaze to certain assets.”

 You blew out an annoyed breath.

“Dressing room mirrors, where I imagine you first saw this, aren’t slapped on walls without thought. They're engineered with angles and lightning to make clothes look as flattering as possible.” He brought his eye to yours. “Where did you see yourself today?”

“There’s a… mirror in my room.”

Donnie’s lip twitched with distaste. “That floor length one?”

You nodded.

“Dad uses that one to feel tall.” He sneered openly. “It tilts up from below, the worst possible perspective.”

You blinked a few rapid times.

“It took the ruching and blew it up.”

“So it’s not… that bad?”

“It’s anything, it's tasteful!” He spoke with an irritation that said that should have been obvious. “It fits your body well. Does it have a certain allure? Yes, I’ve already spoken of assets, but it is not a piece that invites unnecessary solicitation.” 

“Assets, assets. What are you, an ass man?” You retorted automatically. 

“There is nothing quite like sinking your teeth into that soft, inviting flesh.” He took your response and held it between his teeth.

In a blink, you saw an imaginary Donatello around your hips pointing to the fabric and on contact with the thought your face exploded.

“I say generally speaking, of course.” He clicked his tongue as if scolding you and turned away toward the water.

Hot.

You were too hot.

Run.

Throwing yourself forward, you submerged as indelicately as possible into the water.

Sinking like a stone into the silence, your burning flesh was quickly soothed by a cold lap.

A sweet embrace, you kicked to the surface and emerged with a pathetic gasp.

Never graceful, you shook yourself free of clingy drops and spun back around to view the rocks.

Donnie was staring up at the sky again and you sort of hated him for it.

Swim.

You’d swim with Mikey.

Spinning around, the other turtle was not only longer floating, but you couldn’t locate him at all. Quickly worrying that you had toppled him in your dive, you swam forward. “Mikey?”

Quieting to listen, you didn’t hear anything past the faint roiling of the water against its container.

Thinking he must have dove, you looked down to find Donnie’s earlier comment to be a correct one. With the water murky to a fault and a new fear cropped up. You had no idea what was in the water and you immediately darted for the closest shore. Something several long feet from Donnie, it was a sort of marshy landing that rocks from below steeping up to meet. They were covered in a slime that clung to your feet and had you pausing until you heard an off-toned lap behind you.

You whirled around with wide eyes and found a sea monster waiting for you.

Something matted with algae, it groaned pathetically and you sucked in enough air until the balloon was full enough to scream.

“What!? Who?! Where?!” The creature splashed with Mikey’s voice.

He’d been captured by another mutant.

You turned to get out of the water with some intention of getting to the tank.

It had to have missiles or something.

Anything to help.

You’d take a bowling ball launcher at this point.

Catching grip with one foot, you hoisted up the other. The many rocks acted like a disjointed ladder and your entire torso emerged from the water before one of your feet slid. The moment it happened felt like you were falling out of time. In slow motion, you knew your face was one of surprise. You painted an open expression where the imminent terror that you were falling couldn’t catch up as neurons to save yourself from the action. 

Your mind knew, but your face didn’t know that you were going to crack your head open on the rocks you just slipped on.

“Y/N!”

“Y/N!”

Two voices.

Too far.

Something skewered your side as the first injury of many.

Hoping only to black out on that first step, you willed your possessions to your friends.

You didn’t bother hoping they would remember you. 

You only hoped that they could make some use out of your worldly imprint.

No matter how small it was. 

Water rushed to greet you and shoved you away. 

That wasn’t right. 

That was the wrong direction.

Water swayed like waves. 

The equal and opposite reaction wouldn’t come until you fell in. 

Why had it preemptively come for you?

Your arms dangled heavily from gravity and you forced your eyes from wherever they had gone.

The monster was right in front of you. 

Its face was one of Michelangelo.

Green sludge caught in his blackened locks and his worried expression peered out from between a small part. 

He had you by the waist and was holding you up in the air. “Are you okay!?”

You were a loose toy strung up.

Flopping down, lifeless, you were a doll that couldn’t close its eyes until it was laid down.

A second deafening splash came as you hung there.

Mikey’s lips were moving awfully fast.

“Did they hit their head?!” Donnie’s voice broke through.

“No! Above water the whole time! Donnie! They aren’t saying anything, I don’t-”

“Shock?” Donnie wondered, but he never came into frame.

Where was he?

Mikey jostled you as one might bounce a colicky baby.

It was pulling a string on your back and you hacked on contact. 

You wheezed, forcing air in where terror had torn it from you. 

You fought. 

Not Mikey exactly, but the situation. 

It strung your arms back. 

It shoved your torso forward. 

It threw your head skyward. 

You gasped, alive. 

You saw blue.

It was the sky.

You hadn’t died.

Mikey had saved you.

Finally.

You came down from your arching to translate your joy. 

Mikey’s face slid into your vision and he was the picture of a boiled red tomato dotted with summertime spots.

He was looking at you. 

He had ogled you. 

He was embarrassed. 

Your blood pressure plummeted twice as fast as it had when you thought you were about to die.

This was worse.

This time you heard yourself scream as you lashed out.

Water flew up as if to welcome you, to bring you where you were meant to be. 

Drowned. 

Returned you to that place where you weren’t an object to be viewed.

You were a person floating free.

Liquid carried life.

It supported it.

It didn’t have it.

Vertigo struck you as you moved within a blink. 

In a disorientated spiral, your lids fell heavy as your inner ear tried to correct the imbalance. 

There were no longer hands around your waist. 

Something clicked like an engine uselessly turning over. 

Weary, you realized you were standing in a safe spot in the water. 

You drew up the dreary blinds of your curtain and found a muscled arm thrown out protectively in front of you. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!!!” Mikey cried, loud and desperate.

“What the hell was that then!?” Donnie’s voice rang close.

That firm limb tucked you further behind someone. 

You were being shielded.

A squabble happened in front of you, but you only looked down at the jade appendage acting as your guard rail.

You touched the arm and it felt familiar.

“Don-nie?” Your voice came out synthetic.

His was the body you were behind and his face appeared in a whip of his head. “Are you alright? Can you swim? I’ll move.”

“I’m not…?” You weren’t swimming.

You weren’t doing anything.

You were standing in the water. 

“What…?”

You looked past Donnie and glimpsed Mikey with a faint blush still stuck to his cheeks.

“Y-you…!” It felt accusatory on your lips.

“I’m sorry!!!” Mikey screeched.

“Turn around, dummy!” Donnie growled hot and was in motion.

You were soon ushered into a spin with an indelicate hand to your back and all but rushed over to the rock you had jumped off of.

You heard a splash of what you assumed was Mikey growing distant behind you. 

You hoped that would cool him off. 

“You ready?” Donnie’s voice appeared like it was newly there. 

“For what?” You were already used.

What was left?

Was it time to take out the recycling?

“I’m going to lift you up. Your shirt is right there.” Donnie instructed. 

“My shirt…” You were forlorn.

It was your back-up comfort item.

“Ready?” Donnie asked again.

The water rocked you and you barely bumped his firm plastron. 

You nodded dumbly.

Your hips were taken in what you read as a clinical way. 

You were barely bounced once, then twice, in a way that ballet dancers got momentum to lift their partners. 

Sure enough, you were lifted cleanly out of the water.

Only this time you felt well handled.

You weren’t swung around like a toddler holding up their favorite doll.

A child who cared for his toys put you on a shelf.

When your knees touched down, you drank in the life of the rock and scrambled for your shirt.

All the things that had just occurred crashed into you.

Shoving your head through the hole, you yanked the shirt down your body as you were already in motion. Forest floor digging into your bare feet, you didn’t need the map to retrace your steps. You followed the single, winding, prickly path and emerged out by the cabin only to fly inside it. A sanctuary amongst the unrelenting woods, you left a rotting drip trail as you entered your room. Your door clattered from where you had thrown it open and you ripped your duffel bag to shreds to get to its confines.

Pulling on layer after layer, you could see Mikey’s blush with each piece of clothing.

He’d looked at you.

You shoved your feet into a third pair of socks.

His gaze was amorous.

Into a thermal that was very much against the season, you ran out of clothes and stormed the dresser.

Sexual.

There were oversized men’s clothes that struck you as maybe being Raph’s and you thanked their huge size.

You put shirt after shirt on.

Mikey had said, point blank, that he wanted to see how far his feelings went.

Why were you so stupid?

You screamed.

Raw and uncut.

Tearing at your larynx, you ripped a few too many layers off as they impeded your melt down.

You needed space to breathe.

You needed to be swallowed whole.

Stumbling out to that accursed mirror, the shape you found there was a frumpy one.

Smiling a teary look at it, you watched it warp your face into one of dismay and you cried.

Where had you last felt okay?

It wasn’t here.

Moving around the room you searched for it.

That intangible something that would help.

Knocking everything over, you finally got a hold of a much too large pillow and hugged it to your body.

It was large and not at all as firm as you wanted.

You needed a hard wall.

You needed that unrelenting nature.

You weren’t something to be judged with heat.

You needed a cold light the sun couldn’t supply.

The wall knocked.

You spun around with your pillow defense to find the back of a head waiting there.

“I come as an emissary.” Donnie spoke slow and methodical.

“You can-!” It wasn’t Mikey.

Your pillow fell slack into one hand.

It wasn’t Mikey.

You let it drop with a thump to the floor.

It wasn’t Mikey.

“…come in.”

You took a wobbly step to spread out your clothed legs in hopes of keeping yourself upright.

Donnie didn’t move.

“You can… come in…” You repeated, not sure if you had gotten the first phrase out.

“No.”

“No…?” You took another step and saw how Donnie was clearly beyond the boundary of your open door.

With his back to you. 

Not impeding on you in any way. 

“This is your space.” He spoke it like a finality. 

You stared at the knot of his mask tails and tried to place what you felt.

“Being out here with us…” Donnie let the sentence hang before he lowered his gaze to the floor. “I want to… respect that much.”

“Why’d you say it like that?”

“I prefer the term ‘sanctum,’ but I couldn’t fit it in.”

“A sacred place…?”

The back of his head nodded. “My lab is supposed to be one.”

Sanctums weren’t places to be invaded.

If they were then they were violated.  

He understood.

Is that what you felt?

Camaraderie?

Even his mania in the beginning had been one you made sense of.

Was that why you hadn’t complained?

No, you were rewriting history from your current perspective.

It was also the only one you knew.

It was one where you envied one man. 

It was where you once feared another. 

Now their roles were reversed. 

You never had to explain your misery to Donnie.

You didn’t have to make him understand.

He was the moon.

You rushed towards him.

Donnie heard the footsteps and made it about half a turn before you reached him. “As… I was saying, I talked to Michael and come in his stead to-”

You collided with that unrelenting wall of plastron. Finding an odd hinge between the front of his shell and the back, you did your best to tuck into that space and weaseled under his arm. You felt it rise above you, out of your way and a rotation brought you more towards his front. There you felt him stop to take your over-clothed form in.

“I’m sorry!” You choked on tears, rooting the sound as deep against Donnie’s wet clothes as possible.

He let your misery hang for exactly one second. 

Then he surrounded you in a soft moon glow.

He pulled you toward his chest and you burrowed closer to him.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I completely overreacted. It was just too much… Too much attention… the way he looked. He said… I thought he wouldn’t… I didn’t want…!”

A hand pet through the layers of your back.

Even and careful.

No further connotation other than to soothe.

Squirming to get your arms out from where you were crushing them, you wiggled them free to embrace him.

You squeezed a sigh right out of him.

“I know.” He spoke into your damp head. “I know…”

You nodded and basked in the tide. Pulled by the moon’s orbit, the waves rolled in and out with a sway. A gentle rocking, you were cast a comfortable drift by it. This was the one you had longed for from the swimming hole. Here, you floated amongst sturdy shores. Held safe, the guiding white light poured around you. One that pushed back against the darkness, it shone on you. Lucky to be in its reach, it wasn’t the type you soaked up. It instead washed over you in a cleanse. Feeling lighter and a little stifled, you extracted yourself from moisture to moisture.

Everything around you from your leaking face to the clingy pond water was soaked and you frowned down Donnie’s body. Standing in a little pool mostly created by him, you wanted to stick your tongue out at it, but you feared the bacteria clearly clinging to your skin.

“The cabin is yours tonight.”

Before you could register the words, you felt him strengthen his resolve with a puff of his chest.

“I don’t want to hear complaints otherwise.”

You wanted to pout.

“I checked the systems when we were doing our preliminary cleaning. The water will be hot. Shower, bathe, do whatever you’d like. We’ll be staying outside.”

You gave a faint nod to the wet floor.

“We’ll grill and I’ll make you a plate. Preference?”

You shook your head. “I don’t… feel like eating…”

“Bland it is.”

Now you were pouting.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” Your head felt heavy.

“I still have a message from Mikey to deliver.”

“I really don’t want to hear it.” Irritation brought you to look at him.

Donnie took you in with a sort of smile. “You’ll want to.”

You dropped your features in a way that said you didn’t believe him.

“He said he’s not ready to talk as he’s having his own crisis, but he’ll let you know when he’s ready to apologize.” Donnie tilted his head, almost amused.

You blinked straight out of your bitterness to stare openly.

Donnie gave a single knowing nod.

“Enjoy your shower.” With one last sweep over you as if to check you were all still there, Donnie turned and headed for the door.

Watching him go, you saw the faint amber hue of sunset.

“It’ll all work out.” Donnie tossed just as he grabbed the knob to exit.

You turned and stormed straight to the bathroom. Drowning in clothes and scum, you locked the door tight and turned the shower knobs to their highest setting. Leaving the water to warm, you started removing your outermost shirt. As soon as it hit the ground you felt possessed. You tore off your clothes with each subsequent layer removed at a faster and faster pace. You needed to be freed. You needed that ridiculous protection off of you as soon as possible. All of it soiled, you stripped down bare and left your feet for last.

The moment they were naked and pressed to tile, you leapt into the old style tub. Instantly boiled by the too hot water, you let it scorch you with clenched teeth at first until the burn seared and you adjusted the dial for something reasonable. Still a lobster in a pot, you scrubbed your skin until you thought it might flake and then doused it in suds until you couldn’t see its color. A sea of white foam, the second scrounge came through, washing the detritus away.

Pickled in the process, you emerged and greedily took up every towel in the room. It meant toeing around the disgusting mound of clothes you’d left, but Donnie had said the cabin was yours. Until tomorrow when you’d clean the place up, you instead mourned how you hadn’t even brought your toothbrush in with you. Scowling at a fog coated mirror, you cracked the door and watched the steam leak out.

Chasing it with your ear, you didn’t hear anything, but there was a distinct lemon scent.

You followed the smell into the hall where you quickly placed it was cleaner. The floor had a sheen to it that spoke of a recent mopping. The clean line ending abruptly at your door said exactly who the culprit was. Donatello had snuck back in to clean and you were thankful for it. He’d left your sanctuary untouched and instead set a stool just outside the door. 

On it was a stack of comfortable looking clothes and a note.

‘Keep your room or upgrade. I recommend the one upstairs, second bedroom on the right.’

You folded the note along its lines and placed it back on the offered clothes. You then gathered the lot and took it with you along with a brave face as you entered your room. You barely looked up as you salvaged what you could from your duffel. Carrying the mostly limp sack, you then moved to follow your recommendation. It led you through the darkened cabin and up the winding wooden stairs where the door in question was closed. Knocking on it out of politeness, you found it empty and slipped inside. It was decorated similarly, but clearly different. Comfortable in its own sense, you went about your nightly routine as best you could and thanked the space for not having a mirror. Growing more weary by the second, you thought vaguely of meat as you instead pulled back the covers.

Sinking in and imagining charcoal lighting the men’s faces, you settled down into the welcoming embrace of bed.

You eventually got up and padded across a tiled floor.

Pulling out a single slick piece of black fabric, you double checked the door was closed before changing.

The perfect swimsuit was one you hadn’t imagined you’d find.

What luck, you thought, as you slipped it on.

Stepping into it, you shimmied into the fabric and turned for that show stopping image in the changing room.

It was perfect.

It covered you in all the right ways.

Finally, the piece you’d been looking for.

Smiling and striking pose after pose, you saw a hand wave above the curtain.

“Come in!” You called to it. 

Sanctum’s were only to be entered with permission. 

“Silly.” You looked over your pleasing image once more. “Is it still a violation if I request it?”

“I guess not.” Instead of drawing the curtain back, Donnie slipped through it.

Tucking himself a strong wall behind you, he looked into the mirror at you.

What looked back held no heat, only appreciation.

“Do you like it?” He checked with you without passing judgment himself.

“I do…” You smiled.

He gave one of his own, though subdued, and flicked his gaze down. “Look here.”

You lowered your gaze to find him kneeling behind you. With his head popped out around your hips, he was looking up at you in a way you liked quite a bit.

You felt powerful.

You were a light bright enough for him to want to project.

“This ruching here has leading lines.” He didn’t touch you, but his hands ghosted over you along the fabric’s pattern.

Your lips parted and your chest filled with heat.

A celestial body was meant to look on.

You were safe. 

“May I?” He asked you once again. 

You were glad and responded with a breathless, “Please.”

His mouth opened a dark orbital maw, a new moon, which then glinted into a teeth-filled waxing crescent headed in its trek to sink into your soft flesh.

You jolted the moment the teeth supposedly hit their mark. 

You stared into the dark abyss and saw drifting images of sharpened grins. 

You were dizzy.

A sheen of sweat to you, you tossed back a cover. 

The black hovel above you took shape as logs in the cabin ceiling. 

They lined up like thick thighs appearing from where board shorts had hiked up. 

Begging for a taste.

Awareness struck with a sharp inhale.

Fully awake and doused with dread from your dream, you voiced your despair with a whisper.

“Oh no…”

💛 NEXT 💛

I swear I handed this to my betas over a year ago... @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[confused-disaster32]

Hi! So you can call this a rant or a vent or whatever I don't rlly care - I just wanted to put some of my opinions out there bc it is eating me inside out to keep my opinions on Alastor's sexuality and all of the discourse about him being shipped to myself.

Also i'd like to state that I'm writing this as someone who is aroace but has no actual wish to be in a romantic relationship and actually struggles to so much as picture what that's be like for myself. I would also like to state how I'm not speaking for the whole community and others will have different opinions to myself.

Firstly - aroace is a spectrum (as someone who is on the aroace spectrum btw) and I completely agree with ppl who say that it is a spectrum and shipping has always existed and you can't rlly stop an entire fandom. My only problem is when ppl completely ignore that he is aroace while doing this, bc to me it seems like there's so much potential to having him have to go through those types of emotions and to write him off as if he's completely allo not only can make some people feel unseen but also just isn't as fun.

Also I kind of believe that he'd possibly date someone for the entertainment - like even if he didn't exactly feel romantic attraction maybe he'd be willing to be around someone closely bc he might like the reactions he'd be getting. (example: he might've stayed in a relationship with Vox maybe not out of pure attraction but if he found out that affection could make the TV short-circuit? He'd be interested)

Adding to that, I personally do not actually ship him with anyone romantically due to his character + the fact that I am projecting my own distaste for romance on him but you do you ig.

Also, on the note of nsfw around him - sometimes you cannot stop a fandom, rule 34 exists and some people who are asexual sometimes may want to have sex and all of that stuff. Personally I think he'd probably be sex-repulsed due to the fact that he canonically has issues with being touched.

ALSO, i personally think that way too many people are brushing over the idea of putting Alastor in a QPR - like that would literally be so awesome.

Alastor x Rosie? Cute af (to me Rosie gives of aro vibes too, but more romance - favourable) like they're already besties and honestly I think that Rosie would defo help him figure out about his identity considering that he's quite obviously not all that sure about slang and stuff.

Vox x Alastor - It has the potential to be SO FUCKING FUN like, you get to experiment with how they feel for each other, maybe what Alastor's got going on bc he died before being aroace was rlly a thing and he'd be confused about how he felt about Vox for sure.

Lucifer x Alastor - I quite like it, ik that Lucifer is supposed to be with Lillith but she did take an extremely long hiatus on her family up in heaven so i think it's okay. Plus the idea of them bonding and becoming close due to Charlie is wonderful.

Even angel and Alastor - maybe after Val Angel doesn't want a super sexual relationship - maybe he's not all that interested in something purely romantic either and though I love huskerdust this would still be pretty cool.

Really all I'm saying is; be considerate. Incorporate the fact that Alastor is Aroace, even if you do ship him - in or out of QPRs - and ofc sometimes writing someone who is part of a group ur not in is difficult (coming from someone who often struggles in writing especially when it comes to romance) but taking a crack at it might actually turn out to be rlly cool.

But please don't ignore his aroace-ness, there's not a huge amount of aroace characters out there and acting like someone isn't can be annoying for ppl who want to find rep around their identity, esp if they haven't seen much before (I can relate and he was one of the first aroace characters I was introduced to after I found out what it meant).

So yeah, that's my piece.

[gingery-juniper]

PERSONAL BLABBER TIME

-long personal ramble ahead-

I don't really post personal stuff here, but there's no other platform I feel safe sharing. I don't really share a lot personal stuff online anyway, but I'm really excited about this and I'm just dying to get it all out and share my excitement with someone.

Like

Orange-cat zoomies excited.

🐈[nyoom]🐈

I've been afraid to open up and unmask for so long, but this is the one place I feel like I can be open about who I am. I don't care if anyone actually reads it, I just want to vent it out.

I'm about to start taking T (testosterone)!!!

I am AFAB and non-binary, and now trans-masc.

I've always hated the body I was born with since I was a kid, but never quite knew why. I was raised in a very conservative Christian household that strongly condemned anything outside the "norm". I was raised to be a "good submissive wife"

That never sat right with me, even as a religiously brainwashed kid. And now I understand why. Not just the creepy religious aspect (that's a whole 'nother deal), but that I was never supposed to be a woman.

I knew something was different about me ever since middle school, but I didn't have the experience or exposure to know why I felt wrong in my own body. I was a tomboy I guess, but it was more than that. I my autistic ass always hyperfixated on male fictional characters. Everyone always assumed I had a crush on them, but no, I wanted to BE those male characters.

I spent so many years thinking maybe if I was more perfectly feminine I'd be happy, starving myself to be ~pretty~ and accepted by my family and peers. That didn't do shit and just made me deeply and harmfully depressed and more confused.

I spent so many years "believing" gender and sexuality was a strict "good vs evil" thing. Even daring! to think of deviating from being cis or hetero (those terms are evil and "woke" btw /s) was an abomination. Anyone at all queer (definitely used as a slur by them) was going straight to hell.

I feel sick knowing I used to believe that.

Well, I didn't really believe it. It didn't make sense to me, but I was conditioned to think that way (for fear of punishment) so I went along with it. But it didn't make sense and confused me when I started to meet and make LGBTQ friends in high school and at my first job. They were such amazing people. I couldn't figure out how they were possibly "evil".

I'm so angry it took so long for me to finally break out of that brainwashed mindset and start thinking clearly for myself.

10 years later, after a long time away from my parents/family, it's all making sense. The egg has cracked.

I've since found the LGBTQA+ community and have never felt more accepted and understood. This is where I have always belonged and I'm so grateful to have made it this far to realize that.

I was making formal plans to off myself a few years ago (many factors involved), but seeing some of the things people posted here made me realize that I'm not broken and not worthless and helped inspire me to live.

Over the last few years (and yeah honestly tumblr has been an incredible learning and supportive community resource) I have come such a long way in my personal journey. I am learning who I am now.

I had top surgery earlier this year and it's the best decision I've ever made. I've never been happier in my life.

Somehow my family hasn't noticed.

Now I'm going to start T.

My family won't take kindly to this change. They are very homophobic and especially transphobic. But I'm no longer interested in being palatable to keep them comfortable. I am going to be me whether they like it or not.

For the first time in my life, that I can say with confidence, I want to live.

I am asexual.

I am aromantic.

I am non-binary.

I am trans.

I am queer.

[aroace-thoughts]

(They/She)

Hello hello! I don't know where to go since finding out about this label &..... Questioning. Hard..... I am on the asexual spectrum & in a polyam relationship. But ever since finding this label (AroAce) & going through others experiences & even a thing with like, 41 questions to ask yourself?? I.... Check off a lot of the AroAce stuff & feel so sad. :( I told my NP partner that I might be & we both cried cuz we're both scared of what this means/could mean. I'm still trying to figure it out. I am scared as I don't want to feel alone or grow old alone. My NP is the only person I have thought about marrying & I love the idea of romance & romantic gestures! Yet I also see it as stuff you can do with a friend. Like picnics, poems, songs, cuddling etc. I haven't really ever had a crush, but more a confused set of feelings of wanting to be closer but without the romance. Yet I grew up in and out of relationships because I wanted to be close, they had a crush on me and everyone around me said that I must have a crush on them because I'm so "flirty". I never know when people are flirting with me & I don't flirt. I joke or give genuine compliments. I just don't understand & don't want to hurt my two girlfriends. :( I care for them & love them, but I am not sure if it was ever romantically or just a "Hey you're supposed to marry your best friend & do stuff with em forever". Am I making sense? I am so sorry. I keep crying about this. I don't want to hurt anyone but I also don't want to be alone. I also think I love my NP like the way people say they love their spouses but I don't know because it's just a really strong feeling of wanting my best friend around me forever. She means everything to me & I love having her in my life. I wanna have my hand held, I wanna be kissed on my hands and face. I wanna be cuddled but I also wanna have my own bedroom, yet share a house with someone. If it doesn't happen I'll be fine. I.... I don't know how to explain it all. I wanna experience romance but how does one do that when all they ever felt was confusion, longing & a strong (platonic?) feeling for certain friends? I'm sorry for rambling. Thank you for listening. If you have any questions I'll answer them under the same name

- Confused Bambi

Hello, Bambi!

Firstly, wow that is a lot to deal with, it must be very difficult to go through. Please don’t apologise for feeling the way you’re feeling. I’m offering you lots of hugs if you need them and am happy to be a listening ear.

Often, even just writing all these thoughts and fears and emotions out can be a huge help in clearing your head. Taking deep breaths, going on a calm walk, giving your feelings the space they need, having a conversation and getting things off your chest is often the first step in figuring out what you need and what you may need to change to be happy, so you’re doing a great job already.

My main thing I want to say to you is being aroace doesn’t have to be a bad or sad thing. If you don’t want to be alone, you don’t have to be alone. If you want your own bedroom and also want your NP to be in your life and hold her hand and live with her, that’s something you can do. You and your partners are the only ones who can decide how you want your relationship to look like. (Whether romantic, or platonic, or queerplatonic, or anything else.) That can sound very scary, especially if you’re confused and unsure, but can also be a great thing and give you freedom!

You and your girlfriends clearly care a lot about each other, and from what it sounds like you have a lot of trust and communication in your relationship where you feel safe and comfortable talking to your NP about this. That’s really good and really beautiful, and not something to take for granted.

Many aro and ace people are in happy relationships that look exactly like they and their partner(s) want them to look like. There are as many relationship types in this world as there are people in relationships, all are unique to the people in them.

Also, I hope you know you don’t always need a word or a label if it’s causing you stress or fear. A lot of these words can seem very big and final and overwhelming… The word “romance” for example doesn’t have to have a big meaning if that doesn’t serve you. Take lots of time, and continue communicating and listening, and you’ll be fine.

There are no rules in life except for your happiness and wellbeing.

[puppyluver256]

You bring up a lot of good points, yeah. I do feel like I should clarify something I failed to earlier tho; my confusion (although in retrospect it really shouldn't be true confusion per se, just me taking way too long to connect the dots of an all-too-familiar othering) is less about the effects on the world of Aionios and more about how this reflects the writing staff of Monolith Soft.

Obviously now that you bring it up, having an in-universe suppression on those sorts of things has a lot of great benefits toward keeping the endless war going. No romance means no chance of getting distracted by said feelings of romance, as well as no chance of a "star-crossed lovers" situation between the two nations. No sexuality, either in terms of attraction or desire to have sex, means no chance of the older soldiers making more kids that aren't bound to the flame clock even without doing any invasive sterilization processes. And, of course, the lack of curiosity about the other side certainly helps to maintain dehumanization of the enemy, and a lack of curiosity in general helps to mold obedient little soldiers. You don't need R. Lee Ermey shouting in someone's face for something as minor as having a donut in their foot locker when you've got something much stronger built into 'em from the pod, after all.

It's moreso the broader implication from the writers that someone needs external suppression in order to not experience romance or sex that bothers me. The implication that they can't just be born without those attractions. That the ability to so much as have a mixed gender bath/shower without anyone freaking out or acting gross toward a fellow bather is supposed to be seen as bizarre and a sign of their emotional suppression. I can't truly speak from an aromantic perspective (my romance situation is up in the air tbh, I feel like the lesbian label works for me but eh all my crushes save one have been fictional gals), but as an asexual my lack of sexual attraction/interest in having sex is often treated as a problem to be fixed rather than just how I am. And while I wouldn't want to randomly walk in on someone while they're in the buff or vice versa, that's likely (at least in part) a result of being raised in an allosexual society because sexual attraction helped make people want to make babies and keep the species going, doubly so in a specific culture where nonsexual nudity is virtually nonexistent outside of classical artwork due to religious tradition shaming people--especially those with "female-presenting" bodies, whether they want to appear feminine or not--for "immodesty". That and let's be honest, genitals aren't always the prettiest thing to look at no matter what set they are, especially when it's a spontaneous show that neither presenter nor audience expected to take place.

I'unno, I doubt that this was Monolith Soft's intention in the slightest (I highly doubt it was even on their minds at all tbh), but the implications that come about as a result of this one detail just hit a bit closer to home to me than it might to most people. That's one of the few things that bothers me about Xenoblade 3, the only story-related thing I can think of anyway, and it's something I guess can't be helped with writing made by those living in our allonormative world.

I hope my rambling made even the slightest bit of sense, hehe... ^^;

The Ouroboros Stone: Go from being perfectly normal about other people's bodies to becoming unbearably flustered at the sight of a woman's bare shoulders with one simple step!

(and yeah i guess there's the fusion powers and the freedom from the flame clock too)

[incrediblyconfusing]

BNHA: Aromantic Headcanons

A list of headcanons for characters I think are aromantic and what types of aromantics they are :). I added definitions for two of them because I’m not that good at remembering microlabels so I don’t blame anyone else if they aren’t.  

Kaminari - aromantic bisexual, mystified  

So confused about romance. He gets the overall concept, but he doesn’t really understand why people want it. Like “You guys actually feel like that? I thought it was a joke..” Cannot comprehend the explanations of the Allos™. Still thinks that some people are exaggerating. He’s that person who gives blunt relationship advice like:

“I dunno, have you considered just... telling him you’ve got a crush on him?”

“Y’know, 95% of these problems could be solved if people talked to their partner. Like they’re supposed to.“

He likes to flirt with his friends though, because he knows from his limited research that flirting makes people feel attractive and desired. Also, he’s still a bisexual disaster.  

Todoroki - aromantic asexual, oblivious

He read an article once that was like ‘How to Show Your Love 101’ without realizing it was for confessing to crushes. The next day, he gave a bouquet of red roses to Uraraka, a letter detailing his admiration to Midoriya, heart-shaped chocolates to Iida, and a frog plushie to Tsuyu. Needless to say, there was a bit of confusion in his friend group.

“T-Todoroki-kun, do you want to date... all of us!?“

“Huh?”

“Deku asked if you wanna date all of us at once.“

“No, but if that’s what you want, I don’t mind.“

“But... you gifted us various items often associated with romantic confession. Social cues dictate that that signals you are courting us.“

“I am?“

Todoroki is the popular guy that gets tons of chocolate on Valentine’s Day. He always ends up sharing it with his entire class. It’s up to Class 1A to keep this a secret so they don’t have to deal with an entire school’s worth (seriously, it’s ridiculous) of upset admirers.

Ashido - arospec (cupioromantic) pansexual - leaning towards women,  Hopeless Romantic™

Ashido is canonically cupioromantic and a hopeless romantic. She’d be very favorable towards a relationship and constantly mistakes aesthetic attraction for romantic attraction. Keeping up on the current gossip, making lists with other girls about the hottest boys, and overall being a ‘ditzy blonde’ type means that most people don’t realize her aromanticism. She’s an aro that picks crushes, choosing a different one almost everyday.

When it comes to talking about Ashido’s ‘romantic feelings’, she usually just sticks with boys to avoid homophobia, but give her the go ahead and she’ll gush just as much about girls. Probably in a QPR with Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero. Bakugou, Jirou and Shinsou are in it too, but they pretend they aren’t.

(Cupioromantic: Romantic attraction is not felt, but the individual has the desire to still participate in romantic relationships)

Shinsou and Aizawa - aromantic asexual, asocial  

These two just want to retire in a nice cozy apartment with as many cats as they can support. It’s not that they don’t like other people, per se, but they just have limited energy for them. Energy which Class 1A has a monopoly on.

“Why would I want someone living with me? Imagine I go to get coffee from the kitchen and there’s just a person there.”

Bakugou - aromantic asexual, smug

He’d be so obnoxious about it because he sees it more like not having a weakness that everyone else does. When he becomes a pro-hero, he’ll always crow in triumph when villains or villainesses try and fail to seduce him as a battle tactic. Fans and enemies alike will try to overanalyze what his ‘type’ is, but any attempt to court him always fails.

I’m guessing that Bakugou also has a little mysophobia, or at least touch aversion, so kissing and third base isn’t the most appealing for him.

Kirishima -  arospec (greyromantic) bisexual - leaning heavily towards men, friend-oriented

A cuddly aromantic, Kirishima is just one of those guys that cares about nothing more than his classmates - to the point of being a little protective sometimes. It’s a given, considering his Quirk is perfect for shielding others.

He never really thought of being in a relationship until Mina brought it up, though he’s definitely had a squish on Crimson Riot as a kid. He doesn’t really care for romance; but if someone wanted to be in a relationship with him, he would definitely be willing to try it out. There’s not much value in dating for Kirishima because he already does ‘significant other’ stuff with his friends - they get each other gifts, cuddle, take each other out on impromptu ‘dates’. Romance is nice, but he’s satisfied with what he has and doesn’t really want anything else.

(Greyromantic: Romantic attraction is felt, but it is very infrequent and muted)

Hawks/Takami - aromantic heterosexual, awkward

Created to be the perfect hero by the HPSC, he’s supposed to be marketable as well as competent. Marketability increases citizen trust, and citizen trust makes his job easier. It is important, as a hero, to foster connections with the people he protects.

At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself as he goes on another date with a fan that won some raffle.

In reality, he’s uncomfortable with the whole idea of romance and doesn’t really get it. But, as a celebrity, Hawks is contract-obligated to neither confirm nor deny anything on his sexuality. This means he doesn’t have to get in a relationship, but he also has to do things like accept dates to keep up the illusion of an eligible young bachelor looking for that special someone. To keep up the parasocial fantasies that his merchandising team run off of, he keeps himself ambiguous on the whole thing.

When asked about his single status on TV, he usually just jokes about it.

“Romance? In this economy!?”

Bonus:

Asui, Midoriya, and Burnin’ - aromantic demisexual, leaning towards women

Green

[twiceasfrustrating]

Brothers + Asexual succubus/incubus MC

Rating: Teen and Up

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Characters:

Additional Tags: Asexual, intended to be romantic but you can read them as platonic as well, no sexual content

Summary: Random thoughts on an MC that is a succubus/incubus and also asexual… because I can.

A/N: Following Rogue (X-Man) rules here and assuming feeding happens when MC makes physical contact with another person. Except without the passing out from stealing their energy.

Lucifer

"If you need to feed, you will come to me. Am I understood?"

It’s Lucifer. He is always slightly controlling and demanding with your time, but even worse when it comes to your feeding schedule. He believes time should be set aside so you can feed in peace and without being disturbed.

When you are at school, he gives you access to the council room so you can sit next to him and hold him while he does his work. At home, you often get sat in his lap while he’s drinking and he wraps an arm around you.

You may fall asleep in his lap from overeating and wake up in your bedroom. He is always ready to take care of whatever needs you may have, even if that means you come to him in the middle of the day complaining that you didn’t get enough at your last feeding. As long as it is him you’re coming to, he doesn’t mind giving you what you need.

Mammon

"Oi! Are you getting hungry? Ya shoulda told me. Com'ere."

No, he’s not completely and totally happy that you’re coming to him to feed! It’s just something he has to do to make sure you don’t starve. He isn’t the one snuggling up to you and holding you close so you can feed without issue! Nope, not at all.

He totally isn’t holding your hand as he walks around town with you, nor is he pulling you close when you have to sneak by other people so you don’t accidentally feed on them. Anything you think he’s doing, he is definitely not doing!

The facade falls apart when you sit him down and crawl into his lap though. Even he can’t keep up the rouse when you’re being so cute and snuggle up to him to get more contact so you can feed better.

Leviathan

"Waaah? What are you do- Oh, yeah. I guess you can stay..."

He dies of happiness the moment you wrap your arms around him and lean your head against his shoulder to watch him play games.

You're so close! How is he supposed to stay calm? He can't and that nervousness seasons his affections in the best way when you're feeding.

He knows (read: thinks) you only spend time with him in order to feed, but he's happy you're there.

He teaches you how to play the games he loves while you're with him, draws and sketches endless pictures, may even ask you to model for a couple cosplay.

Is a little confused why you keep spending time with him after you are clearly full. Sweet Levi, when will he ever realize that you genuinely enjoy his company?

Satan

“I don’t mind if you eat a little. Why don’t you take a seat.”

Feeding from Satan is a very quiet and intimate thing. He sits in his room reading or is on the couch doing work, and you sit next to him with your head lying in his lap.

He will run his hand over your head with a smile on his face as he basks in the intimacy of merely spending time together.

Sometimes you two may talk about your day or some new interests the other had picked up. It’s a very special moment that both of you will fight to keep. No amount of insanity around the house can interrupt that very special time.

Asmodeus

"Ah! Is my darling getting hungry? Why don't you come over here and let me hold you until you're full."

More than happy to snuggle with his darling to help them feed. He's the head lust demon (even if he isn't an incubus himself) so he thinks of it as his duty to make sure all the lesser lust demons are taken care of.

Of course, even if he wasn't the top dog, he'd still cuddle up to you as often as you needed. You're just too cute to leave alone.

He may actually be overfeeding you, given how affectionate he is and how often he devotes his free time to doing mundane things together with you. He just radiates affection and it is actually making you sick.

Asmo! Please!

Beelzebub

Remains silently happy as you pet his head while he eats.

You have permission to touch him and feed from him as often as you need to, as long as you let him eat something at the same time. Bring him a snack for extra bribing fodder.

Feeding from him is especially easy because he will sit there and let you pet his head while he eats. Sometimes he may offer to give you some of the snacks he is eating. They are delicious, even if they have no nutritional value for you.

After he’s done eating, he likes to pull you into his lap and snuggle with you. It is inescapable. Just go along with it.

Belphegor

“Are you trying to feed from me? You should ask for permission first.”

He knows you need to eat, but he is forever a little shit about it. Ask him in your prettiest voice and he may let you eat. That’s a joke. He will always let you feed, but he loves to see how much you beg before he finally gives in.

Feeding from him is the easiest, since he can pull you close and fall asleep. You can eat while napping too, and you find that your dreams are beautiful when he is near.

You actually rarely feed when he is awake because it is important to spend those moments being with him and bonding with him.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Time Apart

CW: Trauma survivor, referenced noncon and assault, heavy internalized victim-blaming and self-loathing/anti-asexuality (Chris has serious issues from his conditioning around this)

(references events from this small series)

I think you should spend time apart, not with me.

When Chris picks up his phone, it's not at all the message from Laken he expected to see. Not the kind of thing they've ever sent before.

He has to read it two times, then three. The letters swim and shake along with a dull pounding inside his head, but no matter how he tries to make them into other words - tell himself he must have misunderstood, must be missing something - they come back together the same in the end.

I think you should spend time apart, not with me.

Each letter is as crisp and clean as a sterilized blade between each rib, one by one by one by one.

The words are a body blow. They're a hundred blows, beating him into a barely recognizable shattered shell of himself. It wasn't supposed to happen this way - it's been a bad few days, yeah, a bad week really, but until yesterday's fight it had never occurred to him that Laken might give up on him.

The fight was his fault, anyway.

He meant to apologize last night, but then Nova had come into his room, and he'd lost the rest of the night to lying next to Jake, trying to remember how to stop living inside his head again, how to stop being still.

He'd woke up this morning with his stomach doing butterfly flips inside him, nervous, but he'd really wanted to say he was sorry, for the fight, for all the weirdness lately. He'd wanted to apologize for being difficult.

Instead... he'd woken up to find a missed text from the night before, sent after he'd shoved Nova away but before he could stand to look at anything again.

I think you should spend time apart, not with me.

There it sits.

He hasn't unlocked his phone yet. Instead, he keeps tapping the button to light up the screen, looking at the message preview that has all he needs to see. Lets it go dark again. As if one of these times he'll click and it'll say something else.

But it doesn't,

It just says the same damn thing.

I think you should spend time apart.

Not with me.

He's still staring at it when another one comes in. He feels the soft pulse of his phone in his hand, and the screen lights on its own.

LAKEN - NOW Did you see my message? 

He thinks maybe Kauri had it easier when he was the age Chris is now. Back when Kauri carried on entire conversations in emoji form, letting the nuance and ambiguity take over, the recipient working through the meaning on their own. With this, each letter is merciless, each word is unmistakable. He can’t misunderstand it. 

Can he?

He opens the phone with shaking fingers, types back yes, presses send, and turns his phone off.

Then he throws it at the wall.

He’s grateful for the heavy plastic case that makes it bounce off and drop to the floor without breaking. There's a strip on the back, textured and a soft purple, gray, white, and black. He rubs his fingers over it sometimes in class to keep himself from rocking and being distracting.

Now he just... stares at it.

Laken bought that for him. They bought the shirt he's wearing right now-

He yanks it off his head before he can think, balls up the soft fabric and throws it as well. It just sort of drifts pointlessly to the floor, a single eyeball from the print of a band he likes staring back at him.

Laken has ranted before about people who break up by text message, and Chris has to breathe through a physical ache in his chest that tightens every muscle at how awful he must be that they're not doing this face to face. How awful, how used-up, how shredded apart, how fucking pretty he is.

After all, he and Laken have been together for more than a year, and he still held perfectly still for Nova to touch him before he remembered how to move. After all, he’s a grown man who still cried and fell apart when Jake was hurt. After all, after all, after all...

He scrambles across the floor for his phone again, turns it back on. Part of him hopes he’ll see a new text saying they take it back, they didn’t mean it. Or just asking him to apologize for what he’d said that night before, for how he’d thrown their confusion over his reaction to something back at them, echoing out the way Kauri fights sometimes, talking about himself the way he thinks everyone else might be thinking about him, so he says the insult first and no one else gets to surprise him with it.

But there’s nothing new.

He manages to open the texts again, barely, and breathes in gasps, nearly pants, as he types out, you don’t want me at your place?

Not right now.

Is it because of what I can’t do?

It takes them a minute to answer. Every single second ticks by with a slowness Chris hasn’t felt since his days in the cold white room, tied down to stillness, forced to endure every minute that passed in perfect silence or to the soundtrack of his own tears and pleading for it to stop.

When they do respond, it’s just, it’s because of what you won’t do.

His breath catches in his throat. The ache in his head starts to pound harder, and he has to close his eyes against a sharp stab behind them. 

What he won’t do.

They’ve never cared before. How-... how could they suddenly care now? The fight had only a little bit been about that, it’d really been about something else. About his nightmares, how he’s not sleeping, not seeing his friends, skipping therapy. It hadn’t even been about... that. About what Chris can do and what he can’t, in bed. 

But that was the thing - the fight had started when Chris had flinched back from Laken’s touch to his back, and snapped at them, and accused them of wanting too much, and...

And now this.

It’s like they knew about Nova. Knew that he could be good just fine - better than fine, Handler Petrus said he was one of the best he’d ever worked with once - he just... wouldn’t. Won’t. Doesn’t want to. Never wanted to. 

Can’t do it without tearing himself to pieces all over again. 

It was always a scream inside his mind, but should he have pushed it down and tried harder to be more like everyone else? Is he losing Laken because of it? Did Nova pick up on something Chris himself doesn’t know?

Should he have... tried?

Even if it hurt?

He drops the phone again, then kicks it viciously under his bed, listening to the scrape of it sliding across the floor, the thump as it hits the wall. He hears it vibrate again, but this time he doesn’t care what Laken has to say.

They’ve said enough.

He understands.

Part of him expected this eventually.

He leaves the room, doesn’t bother to pull on his compression shirt, even. He lets his skin prickle bare and exposed to the air. He accepts the discomfort, the uneasy feeling of being too seen, too felt. 

The house is quiet, this early. 

He makes himself toast with butter, wincing at the scrape of the knife against the crisp bread, the sound boring into his ears. But eventually it’s done, and he slumps into a chair at the kitchen table, willing himself to cry. Somehow, the tears just... don’t happen.

He can hear Jake snoring softly from the living room. He’d been up with Chris until nearly 4 am, then Chris was awake again at 6:30, looking at that text, looking over and over and over again. Two hours of sleep leave him weirdly euphoric alongside his despair. Like he’s floating in some nightmare place that isn’t awake and isn’t sleeping, either.

He’s probably slept nine hours in three days at this point. He keeps seeing Jake with a knife sticking out of him every time he closes his eyes. Jake, screaming as Antoni pushed cloth into his wound to stop up the bleeding. Jake with a bullet wound, sitting up against the wall, staring at him with wide eyes whispering, It’s okay, Tristan, I love you, it’s okay as he dies. 

He can’t sleep. He can’t leave for long. He can’t breathe. He can’t think.

Him being what he is, it’s the reason Jake is hurt. If he hadn’t been his brother, he wouldn’t have decided to run a house for Romantics, and he wouldn’t have ended up dealing with all the dangerous bits about them.

Jake said it himself, didn’t he? It’s a mistake, running a house for Romantics. Not his best idea. A mistake.

Chris is a mistake.

Him being weak, and cowardly... it’s hurting Jake, making his life harder.

He makes everyone’s life harder.

There’s a soft sound of footsteps behind him, and he turns to find Nova in the doorway, staring back. She’s in a sleeveless gray dress and has her long dark hair pulled back from her temples, spilling in a waterfall down her back. Her eyes are dark and fathomless, and she gives him a faint, slight smile.

She had smiled like that with one hand down his pants.

Chris turns around, too fast, his head spinning a little, and hunches over his toast. “Good... good, um, good morning,” He mumbles. 

She clears her throat. “Morning. Chris, about-... about last night...”

“Don’t, um, don’t-... don’t don’t don’t worry about it.” He takes a breath. He doesn’t want his toast any longer. 

“I’m sorry,” She says, simply. “I spoke to Sarita about it, and... and she said this happens with us, and I should apologize, but, um. So I am. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-... I thought I was helping.”

“I... know you did.” His words are slowing down. Chris can’t hold on to his thoughts, they want to drift away somewhere else, somewhere safer. Somewhere darker. 

“When I was with-... with my Miss, she would always say, if you are sad the best way to fix it is to make your body forget that feeling, replace it with something else. And that was what we replaced my sadness with. So, you were sad and upset, and I thought I could fix it that way.” She pauses, flushing a little, looking down and to the side as she moves with effortless grace to get a glass and fill it with water, take a small sip. 

“Kauri used to... to do that,” Chris says after a pause, thinking about it. Kauri, who would show up in the small hours of the morning reeking of liquor and someone else’s cologne, or just didn’t show up at all. Kauri, who would laugh instead of crying, and laugh with someone’s arms around him, a guy whose name he didn’t know. 

Kauri, who ran and ran and ran and can do things and be things that Chris can’t.

Or... won’t.

What if he’s been hurting Laken this whole time and didn’t know it, because he was already hurt himself?

His foot starts to tap tap tap on the floor until he stops it. 

“Did he? Did it-... work for him?” Nova asks it with genuine curiosity, and her eyes are so pretty. He looks up at her, and then down again, pushing the plate of toast away from himself. 

“I don’t know,” Chris whispers. “I, I don’t know. He’s happy now, but...”

“Was he happy then?”

“No. But, but, but... maybe we aren’t supposed to be. At least... not with, with anyone... who isn’t like us.”

“Jake isn’t like us,” Nova points out. Her presence in the room feels heavy, like a weight pushing down on him. But what does it matter? He’s not with Laken anymore, anyway. If he wanted to, he could stand right up and kiss Nova right now, press her back into the counter, and learn what it’s like to be the one doing things and not just having them done to him.

But his body doesn’t stir at the thought. It never has.

“He is,” Chris answers. “A, a little bit. I’m, I’m, I’m sorry, too, Nova. Sorry that I-I can’t.”

“No, I know. You have a partner, and I shouldn’t have-”

“I don’t have... I, I, I I don’t have a partner anymore.” Chris stands up, leaving her there with his plate of untouched toast. The sky outside is bright as the sun rises, as if mocking the way he feels like a stormcloud inside. 

Nova watches him leave, and whispers to herself, “No partner?”

Chris goes outside, pulling a sweatshirt that hangs on the coatrack on over his head to protect his skin, curling up on the porch swing and watching cars pulling out of driveways as the neighborhood starts to head to work in ones and twos. 

He doesn’t cry.

He sits very, very still, and he is silent. 

Upstairs, under the bed, his phone vibrates, again and again, unnoticed.

Just go talk to Nat, Chris. That’s all I said. Just go see Nat and get a night or three away from the house. Being there all the time is overwhelming you. Are you even looking at these? Chris you can’t just ignore me every time I say something you don’t like Chris answer me ... ... Oh shit, Chris, my phone autocorrected earlier and I didn’t notice I meant “some time at Nat’s”, not apart Chris? Are you seeing my messages? Baby? Chris, please check your phone and answer me. Please.

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @whumpfigure @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears

[centrally-unplanned]

Genre Straightjackets: A Bloom Into You Review

(Spoilers ahoy) I finished the Bloom Into You manga last night, a yuri-tale by Nio Nakatani that began in 2015. Its core conceit is that of a girl, Yuu Koito, who finds herself incapable of experiencing love the way her peers seem to, much to her confused chagrin. She finds a supposed equal in this lack in her try-hard perfectionist senpai Touko Nanami, but that equality is dashed as Touko falls for Yuu precisely because of her closed heart; in Yuu’s apathy Touko finds a pliant vessel for her own desires and needs that she never knew she wanted. Yuu tries to make it work and story ensues.

A lot of romance manga/anime can bore me as the core dynamic of the main duo is very mundane; there are *external* forces that create drama, keep them separated, etc, but their actual dynamic is cookie-cutter - they love each other! When will they realize it!? Bloom Into You really did a good job in its opening arcs of of setting up something different. Touko finding Yuu attractive because she can project her own anxieties on to her without complaint or need to factor in Yuu’s own relationship wants, a dynamic she is drawn to as she spends so much time being outwardly perfect she needs an outlet for her more selfish sides? Yuu constantly permitting her escalating intimacy out of awe for Touko’s outward success and charisma, pity for her weaknesses revealed in their alone moments, and own desire to effort-hack her way into experiencing love? This conflict is entirely internal, psycho-sexual dynamics premised on differing relationship needs as opposed to communication errors. In real life romantic dynamics are almost never equanimous, but romance manga have a tendency to place the differences entirely in the surface personalities (genki girl vs shy bookworm, etc), not in the actual needs of the pair, but Bloom Into You doesn’t appear to make that choice.

And even if briefly, it goes there on the sexual part of pyscho-sexual; you get hot make-out scenes in school sheds that aren’t just releases of sexual tension as Yuu is constantly negotiating what she is actually getting out the experience, experimenting between letting Touko sate herself on her body vs actually playing with the power she is learning to hold, while Touko is dancing between escalating her demands and not pushing too far someone who does not, in fact, love her back. The art really sells it too - nothing exceptional but it there is a lot of intentional polish here:

Touko’s (left) knowing smile and controlling hand vs Yuu’s uncertain-but-accepting passivity in this volume-1 shot, and it grows from there. Also Yuu is cute as fuck, those tiny twintails! Good shit Nakatani! I know what kink is and I am pretty sure you do as well, Yuu is out here growing into topping from the bottom as a subby ace and I am here for it.

Except alas Bloom Into You is not here for it. When I first read it my partner commented about how when she watched the first episode of the anime adaption her circle was all excited to have some asexual representation in anime, and even a chapter into the manga all the signs were there for that hope to be disappointed. Asexuality is not a thing in Japanese discourse (note: does not mean that Japanese ace people don’t exist), and the conventions of the yuri genre are way too strict. Narratives need arcs, and arcs need resolution, so of *course* Yuu is going to grow into actually loving Touko, and all that passivity will bloom into normal relationship dynamics. It has to, so we have an ending, and that ending can involve the mutual affection payoff - and pretty-good sex scene - the audience needs. Bloom into You was published in Dengeki Daioh, one of the big shōnen magazines in Japan, which tells you everything you need to know about how it will end. This isn’t My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness, and it never could have been due to the market forces creating it. Which means that the interesting dynamics on Yuu’s end fade away over time to be replaced by Happy Ending.

 Meanwhile, Touko’s perfectionist drive turns out to stem from a Tragic Past™ involving her dead sister who she idolizes and is trying to emulate, and her arc ensues from there. Remember Kare Kano? Oh you have taste, so of course you do? Thats good, remember how Best Girl Yukino has this entire conflict about how she is driven to be a perfectionist due to an addiction to praise and its been warping her behavior and relationships and the entire first episode of the anime is just this deep dive into her brain and the toll this is taking:

Oh hey, is that the same exact conflict Touko has? Oh funny, what a coincidence! So what is Yukino’s tragic backstory reason for putting on the perfectionist mask?

Nothing. She has a happy home, goals, the works. She just is an attention addict, its her personality. And to be honest in real life this is *way* more common. People have personalities and desires that are influenced by their circumstances but exist outside of them, and life is a constant journey of fulfilling, managing, or challenging them. In Kare Kano Yukino as a character gets that reality deeply explored, no dead sibling required. I am not out here to say that having tragic backstories is bad, or even that Touko is bad, she is not. However, by *externalizing* her character flaws to an outside cause, once that cause is *resolved* by narrative those traits more-or-less vanish, making A: her character more shallow, and B: her dynamic with Yuu more contingent, and ultimately more cookie-cutter.

I guess I am just out here looking for more interesting relationships, and Bloom Into You teased me with that potential but ultimately snatched it away. It was still good, if you like the yuri genre and the art appeals to you I definitely recommend it, and it has way more maturity than some its peers. Just not enough to break free from the straightjacket of its own genre conventions.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Hey if requests are open can I ask one?

Can you do a bucky or stephen strange x reader where the reader falls under the ace spectrum and they are terrified to tell him that they are ace.

I'm ace (on the spectrum) and I've been struggling with forming romantic attachments and not feeling like "complete" or "enough" so I just felt this would be nice💕

If its convenient for you then please do this request

Thank you!

On the spectrum

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | based on the request. I kinda made a little twist to it, so I hope that you like it. I am in no way saying that asexual people can only be with asexual folk, but I thought this might be cute, so I wrote it like this xx

Warnings | erection, mentions of sex, ^^

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Jolting up from your rest, your eyes widened as you get your weight lounging upon Bucky, eyes wide as felt an appendage of his jolting stiffly upon your inner thigh. It was a surprise, the pair of you, through the expanse of your short term relationship, had never had the conversation of sex, and a part of you wanted to avoid it at all costs. There was something that you needed to inform Bucky about, but you were wary of what his reaction could be.

You weren’t sure that he would understand, after all, back in the 40s he was known for his womanising reputation, and whilst you knew that you weren’t another loose fling that had no attachments, it was still a big deal to share the truth with him. Not only would it impend and possibly affect his view of a future with you, but it would promote a new side to you, that you hadn’t told many people about.

Nat knew, but that was only because years back, you had confided in her, confused about your lack of sexual attraction to anyone. She had been supportive, and prompted you to research online, to see if you were as she suggested, asexual. There were many perceptions of the sexuality, some people would still do the deed to keep their partner happy, and others swore off the act altogether.

It wasn’t that the thought and idea of sex grossed you out, in fact, you could understand that people did it to feel amounts of pleasure that came from nothing else. But the rouse of body parts brushing against the other, and slipping inside was not something that ever appealed to yourself. And then you met Bucky, and your perception of the ordeal remained the same; you weren’t blind, you knew Bucky was extremely attractive, however, there still seemed to be no pulse in your veins that was prompting you to jump his bones.

It wasn’t him, it was you, and that was more okay. There was nothing wrong with not having a desire to perform erotic acts with any partner, and more so than his appearance, you had fallen for not only Bucky’s heavenly appearance, but his soul. He had an old soul, that was a given, with all things considered. And that was what had first made you step towards the man that liked to be alone, and change his perception of that fact.

He was new to the team, Tony enjoyed picking fun at the man, who as he liked to say ‘hadn’t got any in eighty years’. Bucky hardly responded to Iron Man’s nit picks, ignoring them instead to settle the conflict in his eyes. Berating with Tony was off the table, and so were snarky remarks, otherwise the billionaire would remind him of his sins against the Stark family, although in foresight, he had just been carrying out orders.

A groan relented from the man beneath you as you uncomfortably shuffled, his cock clearly rubbing against your thigh. His sleep dazed eyes slowly peeled open, revealing the blue globes beneath that stared up at you. A furrow endorsed his features, as he came to realisation of what had you so frozen; he was hard, nothing in particular had turned him on, it was just his body’s way of rousing him from slumber, and apparently it had extracted you from your rest also.

He released his arms from around you, watching as you shyly rolled to the side, and glanced at him from out of the corner of your eye. He released a small and sorrowful smile as he glanced down to where the covers had lightly raised from his manhood, feeling guilty for how his body had reacted by itself. “Doll face I’m sorry, I didn’t- it just- ugh.” The man groaned, rubbing his face with his prosthetic hand as he tried to rid the dust from out from the corner of his eyes.

“It’s okay.” Your voice came across as meek, small to the elephant in the room. “Just I- there is something I should tell you.” You twiddled with your fingers, picking nervously at the hanging skin that had chipped its way partially off on your latest mission, that had required you to furiously try and peel a jammed car door open to get the family out. Bucky now focused all his attention on you rather than the uninvited presence of his little friend in the bedroom, his pupils sending you signals of warmth as if to tell you that whatever you were going to tell him next, he would remain here for you.

“I’m asexual, and I get that you aren’t and you probably want all of nothing in this relationship but-” You spoke, but quickly paused when you saw Bucky tilted his head, a clear frown creating a thin line through the middle of his forehead. “What is it, do you not want me or-“ he stopped you from speaking, reaching out to hold your hands, giving them a light comforting squeeze, before he happened to open his mouth to speak.

“Doll face.” That name made you gulp, afraid that it would be the last time that he addressed you in such a way. And if it were, then that emotional connection that you felt to him would be unwound, and set out to sea to float and turn under the waves. “Asexual.” He tested the word on his tongue, as he lightly nodded, for some reason the phrase feeling right upon his tongue. “Can you explain it to me, I don’t know what it is?”

Of course, he wouldn’t know what it is! It made sense, he was from the forties, where various sexualities were not explored, all because straight white men thought their opinions were inferior. Well now, everyone had the freedom to be who they wanted to, and could be attracted to whomever they pleased, as things should have always been. Brushing your hand through your hair, thinking of holding onto the locks for dear life as you felt your nerves persevere, and spur in your membrane.

“It’s where someone does not experience sexual thoughts or feelings, towards anyone. Their thoughts are primarily romantic, and that’s how I feel. I do love you Buck, but I’m not sexually attracted to you, and I understand if that is a deal breaker for you. Not everyone wants to be put on a sex ban for the entirety of their relationship, but for me, it’s not like that at all, instead it’s more so I find the little moments to be more intimate than intercourse.”

“Y/n... I, not to jump the gun, but I’ve been feeling the same way.” Bucky slowly spoke, making your eyes dart up to his guilty expression. “I guess eighty years on ice will make you think about the things that are more important, and you are the most important person to me, and I guess if we neither of us have any desire to have sex, then me and you are supposed to work.”

It was surely a surprise, but he had contained his emotions, thinking that even when Tony pried at him for his lack of involved affections, he felt ashamed, as though there was something wrong with him. But it appeared as this day and age was far more fitting for this version of him, the one that had endured the battles against aliens and his own friends.

“I’m sure we’d have found a way to sort your needs out even if you weren’t asexual.” It felt strange for him to hear himself described with that word, but it felt right. “And look, it’s gone down.” You laughed lightly, resting against his chest once more as he let out a breathy laugh, and cuddled you to his chest. “I’m with you for you Buck, I love every part of you. And I think, maybe we should move out of the compound and get a place together, maybe downtown?”

“Really?” His eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, shining with festive luminescence. “You want that, with me?” You humbly nodded, pressing a kiss upon his cheek as you inhaled his scent. His hands dipped to your waist, holding you that bit tighter. He was never going to let you go, no matter who was what, or what was who. The two of you were y/n and Bucky, and you got through anything.

That way, leaving these Stark white four walls behind, Stark himself could not pry at the soldier, nor make jokes about his lack of sexual affection. The two of you were complete with the truth wading between you, there was to be no dwelling or worrying about the other thought, because you both understood.

[onekisstotakewithme]

Those Who Came Before

Note: the ace flag was created in 2011. This is of course for @blue-ravens for giving me MY first ace flag 💜🖤🤍

~

Charles is waiting just outside of Erin’s office, checking his watch again to make sure he has the right time.

(His mind isn’t quite as sharp as it used to be, after all).

A young woman in a lab coat walks up to Erin’s office door, black hair pulled back in a ponytail, her jacket covered with cheap flashy buttons like ones he’d see at Pride parades.

As Charles watches, she raises her hand to knock.

“Pardon me, young lady, but Dr. Hunnicutt isn’t in.”

She turns, and sees him, giving him a smile. “Are you waiting to see her?”

“Not as a patient, no, we’re supposed to have lunch together.”

The woman – he can’t quite read her ID from here, so he doesn’t know her name – lights up once she gets a good look at him. “You’re Dr. Winchester, aren’t you?”

“In the flesh.”

She sits down next to him, holding out a hand. “Dr. Arden Malik.”

Charles takes it, shaking it. “Charmed, I’m sure. How do you know Erin?”

“She got stuck with me as one of her interns,” Dr. Malik says with a smile. “What about you?”

Charles smiles. “Her father and I served together during the Korean War.”

“Oh! Wow.”

“It was a long time ago,” he assures her, before getting a closer look at the pins she’s wearing.

One of them is obviously the pride flag, but the other is striped with black, white, grey and purple.

“That’s a war you don’t hear about too often,” Dr. Malik says, before noticing. “Oh, do you like them?”

“I was… merely wondering what that second striped pin is. I don’t recognize it.”

“Oh.” She looks down, and then back up at him, her smile turning shy.

There’s a wary look in her eyes that he recognizes, but she keeps smiling.

“It’s the new ace flag.”

Charles blinks, confused as he stares at the little striped pin. “An ace flag?”

“Yes, um. You know, asexuality, it’s… it’s the lack of sexual attraction.”

Charles smiles at her flustered description. “Yes, I know.”

“You do?”

“I do, given that… I am asexual.”

If possible, she gets more flustered, glancing at him, then down at his wedding ring. “Oh- you-.”

“For the longest time, I didn’t have a name for it,” he says, offering her a smile. “Nor a flag. But I’m glad that people now have both.”

Dr. Malik smiles. “It’s a nice feeling, isn’t it? Knowing that you’re not… wrong, or strange. You’re normal.”

“Indeed.”

Charles takes the liberty of reaching over and squeezing her hand – and as he does he notices the black ring on her middle finger, smiling at the sight. “I’m proud of how far people have come – though of course there’s still work to do.”

“Uncle Charlie!”

He lets go of Dr. Malik’s hand as Erin jogs down the hall towards them.

“Erin,” he says, wobbling to his feet. “Kind of you to join us.”

“Don’t be crabby,” she starts, but then sees Dr. Malik. “Oh, Arden, were you looking for me?”

“I was, but it can wait,” Arden tells her.

“Go on,” Charles says to Erin, who gives him a skeptical look. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Uncle Charlie, Aunt Donna wouldn’t like it-.”

“Young lady,” he says, and Dr. Malik giggles. “I made it here under my own power – I’m not dead yet.”

“Fine. Don’t take too long.”

Erin heads off, leaving him alone with Dr. Malik.

“I think you should have this,” Dr. Malik says, pulling the pin from her lapel and handing it over. “For being there first.”

“I can’t possibly-.”

“I insist.”

“Well.” He takes the pin. “Thank you. And… Dr. Malik?”

“Yes Dr. Winchester?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

As Charles walks down the hall to meet Erin, he carefully attaches the pin to his jacket, beaming with pride.

 END

[seachanqe]

No right way

JonGeorgie, set during uni, pre-relationship(ish), rated G, 1130 words

For @aspecarchivesweek, with ace (kiss-averse) Jon and aro Georgie

Inspired by a prompt by the lovely @hundred-separate-lines, who asked for “kiss neutral-to-averse Jon feeling like he won’t be able to have a real relationship if he can’t make himself kiss someone, and then a non-kiss-averse partner being cool with it”. I almost always write JonMartin, and since you seemed open to other ships, I decided to try my hand at JonGeorgie. Hope that’s okay! Thank you so so much for the prompt and your kind words. :)

________

Jon was doing his best trying to keep up with Georgie. The band had just finished the last song of the night, and the large crowd of people were milling about, slowly making their way out of the venue. 

Georgie, as Jon was finding out, was an expert at moving through a crowd. She twisted around people stepping in front of her and slipped past those ahead who were walking too slow, all the while tugging Jon along. It had become swelteringly hot stuck in the middle of the crowd, so he was all too happy when they broke free of the pack to reach outside. The crisp air nipped at Jon, and he watched as his sigh of relief crystalized in front of him.

Georgie turned to face him, still holding his hand. The overlapping voices of everyone around them was distracting, but Jon tried to focus on Georgie instead. She was smiling so wide her eyes crinkled, and there was a flush to her cheeks. 

"Band was decent," Georgie said, a little too loud, Jon supposed from not only having to talk over the crowd, but also the muffled ringing in their ears from being a little too close to the speakers.

"I'm just not a fan of--" Jon gestured to his ears. "I forget how long it takes to wear off, but did you know that this is actually tinnitus? The loud music actually damaged the hair cells in our ears. These sorts of concerts are approximately 115 decibels, and it only takes prolonged exposure of 85 decibels or greater to cause hearing loss…"

"I was pleasantly surprised," Jon said as dryly as he could with his voice raised.

Georgie barked out a laugh, before punching him lightly on the arm. "I told you you'd like them!"

"Jonathan Sims, are you trying to scare me off from future concerts?" Georgie's face pinched in an exaggerated grumpy face. She pulled Jon a little closer to her, Jon assumed so they could hear each other better. 

Jon laughed. "No, of course not. I think it would take quite a few concerts to really have any effect. It's interesting though. Apparently damage to the hair cells in our ears causes our brains to misinterpret the signal it receives, so our brains make up a sound instead! That's the ringing we're hearing right now."

"It's too bad our brains couldn't have made up a more interesting sound."

As Jon started to consider this, Georgie reached up to cup his cheek, and Jon immediately froze at her touch, eyes wide. 

"You're so cute when you share this stuff," Georgie said fondly, with a soft smile, leaning up on her tiptoes, her eyes dropping to his lips, clearly about to give Jon a kiss. 

A jolt of panic, his heart sped up, and he quickly pulled back. "Georgie, I--" 

Georgie didn't look hurt, Jon thought, thank god. She actually looked worried, her head tilted slightly in confusion. 

Jon bit his lip. Well. This was it. "Georgie, sorry, I don't-- um. I can't--"

Georgie's brow furrowed as she tried to parse what was going on. "No, no, this was my bad, I never actually called this a date anyway, I never asked if you were interested--"

"But--Georgie," Jon interjected in a panic. "I am interested in dating. Dating you. I like you, Georgie, I do. I just." Jon internally cringed. It felt like a death blow. And he hadn't even mentioned his asexuality yet. "Don't-like-kissing," Jon said in a rush. "It's uncomfortable? I actually haven't tried it, but any time I see characters on screen making out---it looks…" Jon bit his lip. "Gross? I don't want to try it, it's not for me, sorry," Jon said with finality, trying to project more confidence than he felt.

When Georgie didn't say anything for a moment, Jon decided it would be best to say his good-byes and leave her an easy out to get back home, not have to worry about mistakenly dating him anymore. He was already mourning how such a lovely evening had been wrecked so quickly. Jon ran a hand through his hair as he sighed. "I had a fun time tonight, really. I'm-- I'm sorry if it looked like I led you on or anything. And I understand if you're not interested in me anymore if--"

Georgie pulled a face. "Don't be silly, Jon."

"I-- what?" 

"That's a completely valid boundary to set, Jon, I get it--" Jon started to respond but Georgie held up a hand. "Really, I do. Or I think I do. And if we're being honest with each other, before we date, if we decide to date-- I'm aro."

"Oh," Jon responded eloquently as he tried to process this. "I'm sort of like that? But. Uh. Not like that exactly. We can, uh, talk about it later?" Jon suggested, glancing around at the people loitering nearby, self-consciously rubbing the back of his neck.

Georgie laughed, not unkindly. "Of course Jon. I--honestly, I was starting to guess that." Georgie held out her hand, and Jon took it, and she squeezed reassuringly. "Listen, if you want, we can try this, whatever this turns out to be. See what happens. I don't like romantic stuff, but I like hanging out with you. Kissing can be fun, but I don't need it. You're fun, interesting. Cute. Good concert buddy. I'd like to try something out, if you still want to. What do you say?"

"You're... really okay with the no kissing?" Jon asked incredulously, his mind still solidly hung up in disbelief. 

Georgie rolled her eyes with a huff. "Yes, Jon. Like I said, I'm interested in this for you. We had fun tonight, didn't we?"

"Yes, yes, Georgie. Fine." Jon let out a sigh, throwing up his hands. "We should probably head to The White Horse if we still want to grab something to eat, we can talk more there about this?"

"Perfect! I'm starving." Georgie beamed, before turning thoughtful.

"Georgie, what is it?" Jon asked suspiciously.

"Thinking about what we could do instead of kissing. Squeeze your hand? Big hug? Gotta show my affection somehow."

It was a wonderful, cozy sort of feeling, one that was almost alien to Jon, that someone would try to thoughtfully look for alternatives, instead of rejecting him for it or trying their best to ignore it. "I, uh, both would work," he stammered. "I don't mind a cheek kiss… I-- I think. We could try it out at least."

"Don't worry, I'll warn you next time," she said a little sheepishly with a slight grin, before holding out her arms. Jon let himself be folded into a hug; Georgie was warm against the cool evening air, her hands solid and steadying against his back.

[spaceskam]

only then i am human

Summary: Rosa and Alex have a talk.

Tags: friendship, asexual rosa

ao3

It was cold in Colorado.

Rosa felt a chill go down her spine, but it felt nice and sobering and she didn’t want to go inside to get a jacket. Instead, she swung her feet off the edge of the balcony, beneath the bars, and stared out to the nothingness around the hotel that Michael had picked.

She had listened to Alex and Michael old-married-couple argue the entire way up to the suite. Alex thought going somewhere expensive with a more obvious paper trail was stupid, but Michael had never been to a nice hotel and this was his only shot to do it with money he didn’t care about‒Jesse Manes’ life insurance. Alex stopped complaining whenever they got up to the suite and there was a separated bedroom and a pullout couch and the two of them would get to be alone for the first time since they left Roswell to go investigate.

Rosa had practically begged them to let her tag along, needing new scenery and to get away from everything that came with Isobel Evans. She was, again, too close for comfort and Rosa was starting to get anxiety whenever she came around, progress be damned. When she found out Michael and Alex were going to investigate Weird Alien Shit™, she jumped at the chance to put space between them.

But her mind was still hazy, still not liking the way she felt uncomfortable when Isobel texted to check-in. It was fine at first. She even liked talking to her for a while. And then it wasn’t fine.

Rosa flinched out of her daze as a blanket touched her shoulders and she looked to see Alex easing himself to sit beside her, placing his crutches on the ground beside him. He was in his nightclothes, his hair was wet, and he looked more relaxed than he had in a few days.

“Finally got laid?” Rosa asked. Alex snorted and rolled his eyes, but he didn’t deny it. Rosa let her eyes drift back out to the nothingness.

“You okay? It’s getting late,” he said instead. Rosa shrugged, resting her head against the bars. “Michael’s out cold, so you can talk without thinking he’s gonna overhear.”

Rosa huffed a laugh and looked back out. She didn’t actually care what Guerin heard. He was probably the only alien that didn’t make her skin crawl. She wasn’t sure if it was because Alex trusted him or if it was because he was brutally honest with her about everything, but she preferred him to even most people. Besides, he made Alex soft and fed him hot fudge sundaes and Alex deserved that.

“Isobel keeps texting me,” Rosa said.

“I thought you two were friends,” Alex said carefully. Rosa bit the inside of her cheek and swung her legs a bit harder.

“We‒are, but,” Rosa said, pausing as she tried to find the words, “I don’t know. Something is making it weird. Like, I’m not scared of her. But it’s close to fear. Or something. I don’t know, Alex, I don’t do feelings well.”

“Uncomfortable?” Alex guessed, slowly like he didn’t want to assume anything. Rosa shrugged but then nodded, though she wasn’t sure if that was the right word either. “How’s she acting?”

“I… I don’t know. She’s just too close sometimes. Leans too close and talks too close, like we’re a part of some inside joke together but I missed the memo. Kinda like it was before, Rosa tried, though it wasn’t quite right, “But not really. Like I don’t think she’s trying to make it weird. Does that make sense?”

“You think it might be PTSD?” Alex asked. Rosa instantly shook her head.

“No, it’s not just her.”

“Yeah, but you literally got murdered. Like… that can fuck someone up for more than just one person,” Alex said. Rosa’s lips twitched into a small smile and she shook her head.

“No, it’s not like that. It… It kinda happened before then. Drugs helped, honestly,” Rosa admitted, “Anyone who gets too comfortable with me in that way makes me feel weird and like I need to get away. And I usually can and do, but with her it’s a little different because we’re actually friends. And before everything, I either got high to deal with it or I pushed them away. But I’m friends with her, so I should be fine. I don’t know why I’m not fine. I don’t know, it’s weird, I don’t know how to explain it.” 

Rosa groaned, letting her head hit the bars with a bit of force. She hated trying to put her feelings into words.

“I mean, we’re close. I act close. You and Michael have been weirdly buddy-buddy. And Maria. Do you feel that with us?” Alex asked, though it sounded like he already knew the answer. Rosa eyed him until he quirked a small smile, a silent confirmation that he basically had her pegged.

“No. You two are gross, but I feel fine. Mostly.”

“So, do you think it might be, like, flirting? Is that what sets off the sirens in your head?” Alex asked. Rosa scrunched up her nose.

“Are they flirting?”

“I mean, I don’t know, I’m asking you,” Alex said, shrugging. Rosa looked more directly at him and wished he could just give her the answers. He was older than her now, so, really, he should be able to do that. “If they’re being close and stuff, it might be because she likes you. Just tell her you’re not interested.”

The idea of doing that made Rosa feel like locking herself in a small room and never coming out.

“Unless… You are interested.”

“No,” Rosa said instantly, shaking her head, “I’m not.”

“It’s okay if you are.”

“I’m not though,” Rosa said firmly, “But if I say something, she’s probably not going to be my friend anymore, right? Like she’ll get mad. And then I won’t have friends.”

“She won’t. And if she does then she’s the problem and fuck her,” Alex said simply. Rosa sighed, tilting her head back to look up at the moon. “Is this really like… a recurring problem? Where you get uncomfortable whenever you think someone might be flirting with you?”

“I mean, I’m just not interested in a relationship and I don’t want to lead anyone on and I don’t want to make anyone angry,” Rosa said, “It was much easier when I could just take something and not feel it.”

“Okay, but we’re not doing that. We’re working through it. Is it a rejection thing? A sexuality thing? Whenever I was in high school, I’d get that way when girls flirted with me, didn’t know what to do without giving them the wrong idea,” Alex offered, scooting closer as he tried to help. She appreciated it, but she also wished he’d leave her alone and go away. “You say you’re not interested. Are you, like, not interested at all… ever?”

“No offense, Alex, but I don’t want to have this conversation with you,” Rosa said. Alex huffed a small laugh.

“Who else is there to have it with?” Alex wondered. Rosa made a face and looked at him. He seemed open and earnest. He seemed grown up.

With a sigh, Rosa asked, “What does it feel like? When you like someone like that?”

“Like the scariest thing in the world and also the best. Like all the movie cliches make sense and half the time they’re all you can think about. You just want to be with them and have them pay attention to you. You just want them in anyway you can have them, like a craving you can’t satisfy. Like, with Michael, when we were younger, I was so scared of how much I wanted him, but he’d look at me and it felt like he trusted me and it made me feel brave. And, I don’t know, I guess I made him feel brave too. You just want to be close and to keep them safe and have them always,” Alex rambled, clearly trying his best to explain it.

For the first time, Rosa didn’t feel like she was drowning in confusion.

“Okay,” she said, “I’ve never felt like that before.”

“Ever?”

“No,” she said, laughing softly, “I thought that was fake.”

“Definitely not fake,” Alex said, looking at her with a soft look. Sort of like the one she tried so desperately to give him when he came to her, thirteen and miserable, to say he thought he liked boys and didn’t think he could tell anyone else.

He probably pulled it off much better than she did.

“Okay, then what does that make me? Heartless?” Rosa asked, though she didn't really feel bad about realizing what she wasn’t feeling. At least she knew that she was actually not feeling it and she wasn’t just drastically misunderstanding something. “A prude, maybe?”

“Have you ever looked into asexuality?” Alex asked. Rosa shook her head. “I haven’t really either to be fair. I actually learned about it from Michael. He apparently got really into queer literature and history whenever Max was dead, would read it to him as a way to be caring and annoying at the same time. Sometimes he’ll spout fun facts at me. Anyway, sounds like it might be something you wanna look into.”

“Okay, I will,” Rosa agreed, though she still found herself looking out to the nothingness.

“Not that you need labels. I just think sometimes knowing we’re not the only ones out there like us is helpful. And you’re already an anomaly in other ways, so might as well not make yourself feel more alone than you are, you know? It’s clearly upsetting you,” Alex said. Rosa nodded.

“I get it. Thanks.”

“And maybe talk to Isobel, tell her to give you some space.”

Rosa sighed, tilting her head back and closing her eyes for a moment. She just wanted everything to make since. She didn’t like navigating new friendships in the first place, it was scary and she was never able to gauge how they felt about her. It was easier, especially when she was sober, to just not deal with it. To just keep the friends she had now and push everyone else away.

But that wasn’t plausible or healthy and she knew it. That would lead a lonely existence and she was already lonely. She never felt like she was anyone’s person in the way she wanted to be someone’s person. And, really, it was a hard thing to request because she wasn’t sure how to explain it herself.

She supposed, however, that she would never get anywhere if she didn’t try.

“Seriously, trust me. Avoiding the tough conversations only leads to shitty situations. Like, you know, a decade of complications because you never speak,” Alex pointed out. Rosa rolled her eyes at him.

“You can’t pull that card with me, it’s you and Guerin’s fault for all that.”

Alex grinned and shrugged.

“Yeah, but once we talked, we got to a place that we’ve both been wanting for a long time. So cut out the bullshit and just tell her what you want and don’t want. Again, if she gets mad, fuck her,” Alex said. Rosa nodded and sighed all over again. Sometimes she hated having to be grown up. “Okay, I’m gonna go to bed. We’ve got a big week, so try to get some sleep yourself, okay? Love you.”

“Love you too,” Rosa said, accepting his smile as he pushed himself up and made his way back into the suite and into the room he was sharing with Michael.

It was weird hearing it put into words. She obviously knew people liked each other in a way different than she could understand, but she had never really clocked how real it was to them. She understood craving someone’s attention and presence, but it wasn’t in the way it seemed to be for Michael and Alex or even Liz and Max. She thought they were just being fucking annoying.

Maybe there was something she was missing.

Reluctantly, Rosa pulled out her phone and opened the text thread she’d had with Isobel.

Rosa: Hey, I think we should talk when I get back. Set some boundaries, maybe.

Before it could even show that Isobel had seen it, Rosa exited out and put her phone on do not disturb. She stared out at the trees and nothingness for a few more minutes before she eventually got the courage to get up and go inside. She shut the glass door and laid down on the pullout couch that Alex had set up for her. 

She hadn’t realized how tired she’d been until her head hit the pillow, a wave of exhaustion hitting her at full force. And she was thankful for that, honestly. It was easier to keep a clear head when you couldn’t stay awake.

Still, before she could fall asleep, she opened her notes app to type a reminder.

Asexuality. Ask guerin to borrow some of his books.

[degeneratekitten]

Double Trouble

!!!WARNING!!! Read the tags before continuing. If any of the tags upset you then you probably wont like it when it happens in the story.

I think its fair to say that this is long overdue, I hate leaving people on cliffhangers, but i am very prone to do so. So I posted this, even if its a year late.

Not sure if I’ll be back again, maybe I’ll post a few stories I started on then never finished but who knows. Anyways enjoy the whump.

After Bud popped out his somehow less-evil-than-him twin, you couldn't help but to snatch the outraged coral up for a round of testing. You made sure to scrape up samples, eyes sparkling as the little coral put up a confused struggle.

You ignored Bud’s limp form on the towel, he looked to be in an incredibly rough shape, eyelights wavering, scales a little bloody, and little bits from the bones on his back missing. His mouth was still frothing, and he looked to be wallowing in his own waste, but you hardly noticed as you fluttered around the lab completely dazzled by the spontaneous birth of a fully formed coral.

You of course asked all the typical round of questions to the little thing, utterly fascinated by the asexual reproduction you just witnessed. You were sure that you’d just witnessed a breakthrough in what you were sure was the catalyst for the bitty surge. Their mutation!

You spent hours interacting with the coral, staring at the samples he produced while talking with him. You even ended up making a breakthrough with the treatment for the Brassberries who were still plagued by the growths. You ended up finding out exactly the source of the growths. Their makeup, and exactly why they were lingering on the brassberries where they had formed a complete bitty on Bud.

It turned out that the growths were in themselves a mutated strain of a virus that had taken up magical properties. The original virus seemed to be the cause of asexual reproduction in the original bitties. The virus mutated to start causing bittes to mutate as well, then mutated into this strain to exclusively promote more extreme mutation in bitties. It was searching for new traits or combinations of them to form into full Bitties.The Brassberries did not hold any extreme traits, thus the virus simply formed deady growths on them, whereas Bud seemed to have mutated just enough to create a newer unique bitty.

Even after finally tending to the catatonic Bud you ended up throwing yourself into research, only breaking to eat and use the bathroom. What you found out during this time about the virus and the new coral which you started calling Dub, was amazing.

The coral was incredibly energetic for its breed, finding pleasure in darting around in a manner most edgy types would deem too troublesome to attempt. Even if he was actually “less” violent than most corals, he still got angry, cussing you out and throwing stuff. He did almost bite you, which prompted you to test his venom, which also turned out to be far more potent than a regular corals.

He got angry a lot less than a regular coral,and his triggers were fewer than normal, and where Bud would throw tantrums, the coral would try to find the positives in a situation, and even attempt to work with you. Plus, where Bud was narcissistic this Coral was surprisingly self-aware, he would admit when he went too far, and even apologize for that behavior. A shocking trait for a Coral, yet also dangerous as it was easy to let your guard down after an apology.

He was still incredibly destructive, but he was far less malicious about it than most edgy types, plus the things he destroyed were easily replaceable and not valuable at all. The only time he ever really destroyed something valuable was when he was “clumsy” about it, which surprised you as he really tried to make it seem like he “wasn't” clumsy and was destroying things on purpose. He liked singing, and was incredibly open about wanting to cuddle, and would say he loved you frequently without a tsundere act. He was possibly the most bearable Coral on the planet!

Although he had some pretty surprising good points, he was still an Edgy type. He still tried to bite you, cussed excessively, was violent, was incredibly demanding, wasn't very bright, and enjoyed “marking” as much as Bud. You could say he was an ideal protection type bitty, but really if you were to even sell him he would probably be more dangerous than most Edgy types due to how he could almost seem “pleasant” at times.

Dub was still venomous, was more active than a regular edgy, and could easily trick someone into believing that he “wouldn't” bite you. Hell, you’d almost gotten bitten on the neck earlier when you gave him a hug at his insistence. His reasoning being “Bitch you give awful hugs!”

You had a hard time keeping your guard up around him, as he acted like a Blueberry sometimes only to turn around and try and bite you. During one of those instances you also found out something incredible about him.

“Hey ma… Can we talk?” Dub asked, as he chewed on a piece of meat you’d slathered in mustard as a bribe to let you take more ectoplasmic samples. You’d discovered that bribing him was one way to get him to cooperate, a mark firmly in the blueberry corner.

“Yeah Dub, tell me whatever is bothering you.” You replied, not looking away from the sample, you were noticing some strange growth coming from the samples you took from him, almost as if the virus was still actively trying to form him from the samples. They petered out fairly quickly and stopped their activity but it was still interesting.

“Can we go huntin?” He asked, as he viciously tore at the meat, he was wrapped around it like he was trying to strangle it, but the whole time staring at it like it was doing something wrong.

“When we’re done with tests we can go on a hunt with the other protection bitties, I’m sure you’d love it.” You replied, really he had been rather restless and you were sure to take him out on a hunt sooner rather than later. 

Dub ended up glaring at you. “You’re never done with testin tho!” He exclaimed, as he let go of the meat and moved towards you in an aggressive manner.

“I’m BORED! I need some ACTION” He shouted, slapping his mustard covered tail on the table, splattering mustard all over your workspace. Really why you had decided that feeding him in your workspace was beyond you. Nonetheless it irritated you, and you turned to him with a frown. 

“I’ve been giving you plenty of exercise! We play tag with the fluffies after we eat! Why can't you do that for a little bit while I finish up? It won’t be much longer now, you just have to be patient.” You stated, watching as Dub shook his head violently, and continued to argue.

“You’re a lyin bitch! We been testin for so long! I haven't even seen outside yet!” He argued, and you supposed he had a point, but it's really what he did next that pushed your buttons. 

“I WANNA HUNT!” He screamed, before taking the samples you had just taken and throwing them off the table! “TAKE ME HUNTING NOW YA STUPID SLUT!” He cursed, baring his teeth and looking as if he was going to lunge at you.

You didn't give him enough time to lunge though, as soon as he bared his teeth as you, you panicked and punted him off the table as hard as you could. You heard a loud “thwack” as he collided with the wall, and more cursing.

“FUCK YOU BITCH! THAT FUCKIN HUUUUUUUURT!” He sounded close to tears, but was even now attempting to stand up. Eyes wide, you quickly put on your handling gloves and ran over, checking over his mustard covered form for damage. His skull was cracked, but that was about it, and he looked at you with tear filled eyes, and you could swear he was trying to look cute so you wouldn't hurt him more. But really what ended up catching your attention was the fact that without any monster candy, or even healing magic, the cracks in his skull were closing all on their own.

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared in wonder at the closing cracks, they closed up in a manner of seconds.

“Wow.” You ended up breathing out, before poking at the place where the cracks used to be. The coral in response bit your gloved hand, but seeing as you were wearing thick gloves, it really had no effect, even as he tried to bite harder.

Staring at him, (not at all irritated at his attempt to kill you, you swear) your curiosity ended up getting the better of you, and you ended up slamming the little coral into the wall again, cracking his skull once again, then quickly pulling the bitty to yourself and purposely prying open the crack as far as you could get it.

‘WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOIN! STOP! WE CAN TALK BOUT THIS!” The coral screamed as you practically split his skull in two. You got a glimpse of what his eyelights looked like through the crack, before you ‘accidentally’ completely detached the right side of the top of his skull.

Surprisingly the detached bit persisted for a few minutes, and you were utterly shocked with how long it lasted without turning to dust. Furthermore, you were shocked that Dub immediately started to regenerate, instead of dusting himself.

You held Dub like he was a treasure as you stared utterly captivated with his amazing regenerative capabilities. A laugh ended up bubbling up from your chest, and you ended up hugging Dub to your chest as you laughed. Of course the difference in attitudes ended up stalling him, and he ended up drooling all over your lab coat as you praised him, telling him how he was the greatest discovery since electricity.

----

After squealing for a little while, all thoughts of hunting completely left your mind, you instead locked Dub up in an enclosure while he cried about his headaches, and started writing about his capabilities. You were planning on researching exactly what kind of mutation he had, then once you had enough data you would see if you could somehow start breeding him with other bitties to pass on such a valuable trait. 

You could only imagine what kind of bitty you could end up creating if only you were skilled enough in programming. You had millions of bitty design ideas that you could only dream of coming to fruition. Sadly the closest you would ever get to an ideal bitty was if you bred one. Dub himself was only a first step on that path.

You decided that first you needed to see if you could create another Bitty like Dub from Bud. So you ended up dragging Bud downstairs, kicking and screaming, and ended up feeding him a sample of the growths he fell into before. You saw what you were hoping for, and just like before, with enough shocks and emotional strain, you had another fully formed coral.

You were thrilled to discover that the second coral also had the same regenerative capabilities, and wasted no time in beginning your stress tests. In the end you decided that you would use Dub for the more tame testing, but as for the second coral, well you needed to know exactly what could kill this type, so you were strapping in for some brutal testing.

Everything started off tame enough. You took more samples of course, before having the both of them go through an obstacle course. There was plenty of cursing, Dub himself was so incensed with you and your testing that he simply refused to participate unless you kept true to your word and took him hunting. You ended up giving in to that request if only to obtain a set of data that you couldn't obtain in the lab, you ended up taking the other coral as well, and observed the both of them literally tearing themselves apart in their pursuit of the hunt. It seemed that they did not have poisonous venom anymore, instead they had paralytics. Which resulted in them using their exceptional stamina and irritating nature to coax more aggressive prey into chasing them long enough to either literally snap the bitties in half or have the prey collapse immobile but still aware due to the paralytics. After which they would wait for their bodies to regenerate and gorge themselves on their prey, live. You yourself ended up having to finish off their prey as they ate, which resulted in intense screaming on their part, something about ruining their fun. It was startling to say the least.

You gained many insights from this exercise. One being that the new corals were surprisingly well aware of their own abilities, as if they knew even without having to be told what they could do. The second being that they fell very firmly in the “protection” variety. Although at this point you debated on whether or not you should continue using “protection” as their classification, it was originally coined for marketing purposes but as the years went by it was just dangerous to call them anything less than hunters.

Of course after securing and storing the prey the corals had obtained you waste no time in taking them right back to the lab. They were satisfied enough with their work and cooperated fairly well with you afterwards. You knew that wouldn't last very long though, as what you had planned wasn't exactly pleasant.

You started with testing their magic. You didn't know how much these bitties could do, you gave them magical gauges, to measure their resting potential. Much like humans, bitties could increase their magic proficiency through absorbing it through places of power or artifacts but they always started with a baseline for magic at around the same place. These bitties had a slightly higher capacity for magic, but it turned out to be negligible in the long run. They could not use magic.

Next was the strength testing. You ended up testing their bite strength first, using a special tool, then their grip strength, and finally followed by the grip strength of their tails. It all ended up coming out at the average for Corals, much to your disappointment.

The next test involved their speed, it was the final test for the day, and to make sure you got the best results you ended up using what could essentially be called Bitty catnip to coerce the two corals into competing. You dangled a singular piece of mustard flavored magic treats in their faces and told them to race. You ended up setting up a small track for them to cover. You also stipulated that they were “Not to sabotage each other.” You’d made the mistake of not stipulating such a thing before, to say it was messy was an understatement. In the end the two of them tied, and the candy was split in half between the two. They were exhausted from the day's tests, and you needed them in tip top shape for the tests tomorrow. So you ended up patting them on the head, telling them they did good, and leaving them in their respective enclosures for the night.

The very next day though, you ended up setting up a longer course, or rather, you took the second coral to the track that you use for horses, a good circular track that didn't actually have an end with markings for distance.

“Ok little one, today I need you to keep running no matter what.” You smiled at the second coral as he stared at you, frowning. 

“Wadya mean?” He asked, staring at the track with suspicion.

You took out a small collar and fastened it around the bitties neck, it was tight enough to press directly against the bitties neck while loose enough that it could move up and down. It was quite obviously a shock collar, a miniature version meant for bitties, with a little tweak.

The secondary coral batted away at the collar, wrestling with you to try and get it off, before ending up giving up and sending you a glare instead.

“The fucks this stupid thing for?” He glowered, baring his teeth as you set him down at the beginning of the track and pulled out a little remote control.

“It's something new I made after realizing I needed some more physical motivation for you little guys. It's brand new, and honestly I don't know any better specimen to try it on than a little coral who can regenerate from everything.” You smirked at the coral, as he seemed to shrink a little bit at your look.

“Now, like I said before, I need you to run, and if you stop, I’ll have to punish you.” You stated, waving the controller in his face.

“Fuck you!” The little edgy spat before crossing his arms and turning his little back on you.

Shaking your head, you turned the dial on the 8 setting before pressing a little red button underneath.

You looked down at the little coral watching as it seemed to flop over in a little convulsion, his eyelights started to flicker and foam started dripping from his mouth.

“FUUUUU---UuuuuuuUUUUCkkk!” He buzzed out, voice wavering from the shock.

The shock lasted for about 10 seconds, but the little coral looked like it had completely fried him. He looked at you in shock before you smiled down viciously at him, and pointed at the track.

“Whenever you stop running I’ll turn the shock up, this dial goes all the way up to 50, and can even take down a bear on that setting.” You watched the coral look at you in horror as you pointed in the direction he was supposed to run.

“Now get moving, or the next shock I set will be worse.” You stated.

“Fuck you bitch I ain’t doing shit!” He screeched at you, flopping down on the ground and thrashing around like a toddler.

“You can’t fuckin make me!” He screamed, right at you turned the dial up to 9 and pressed the button. You held the button down for about 20 seconds that time, watching the coral freeze up in shock foaming more at the mouth as you let the shock continue.

“AAAAAAAAhhhhh!” He screeched, and as soon as the shock subsided he looked at you with tear filled eyes. “Momma please! Don’t hurt me anymore!” He started begging, and started to slither towards you, with a tear streaked and snotty face.

“Start running then.” You stated simply a little disturbed by the fact that the coral had called you momma instead of mom, or even bitch, a testament to his mixed nature. The blueberry was showing itself off right here.

The coral started to blubber harder, and didn't even notice when you turned the dial up once more to 10. “P-lllll-leaaaaaase! Momma! I Don’t wanna run that track!” He begged as he inched closer to your leg.

You kicked him away, sending him flying towards the track and pressing the button while the little coral was midair. He screeched loudly, voice wavering as he fell, and simply lay there, stiff as a board and foaming from his mouth.

“I said. Start. Running!” You shouted one more time, finger poised over the button as you stared the coral straight in the eyes.

He listened that time, making his way to the track and slithering off at top speed on the track, he was still crying as he ran, and his ugly snotty foamed up face made him look like a cherry rather than a coral. Really if it wasn't for the gold tooth you would swear that he was a cherry.

You started the timer as soon as he crossed the starting line, watching him slither at top speed like a moron. You weren't exactly inclined to inform him that he would tire himself out more by using up all of his energy at the beginning. You were looking to determine just how far he could be pushed before he collapsed. 

He passed you 3 times on the track at top speed, a mark firmly in the “hunting” variety, as you’d resolved to start calling them. You did have to turn the dial up at every pass though, as he’d taken to screaming obscenities at you at the stop, demanding to go home, or have chicken nuggies as a reward for “good behavior.” The speed he was going at was taking its toll, as he was already starting to show signs of fatigue. It was slightly above average for a hunting variety, but endurance wise it wasnt looking good.

By lap 5, he was sweating, by lap 7 he was moving at the pace he should have been moving at from the start. You had to shock him at the halfway mark on lap 7, and once more at the start of 8. The shock ended up at 19, at which point you could smell burning magic as he passed, an observation you wrote down in a separate journal in regards to the collar.

He made it to the lap 12 before he collapsed in front of you, panting, tear stained cheeks, and  a sticky dirt covered tail painting a sorry picture. He weakly looked at you, pleading silently for a break, before you shook your head, and turned up the dial this time to 23. The level had been slowly rising with each lap, since he didn't seem to get the memo that cursing after each lap only brought more pain. Although this time since he was so exhausted he wasn't cursing, just trying to look cute.

Seeing you turn up the dial, he let out a weak sob, before getting a move on at a glacial pace. He was almost crawling this time, as he wobbled back and forth on his run. You knew this was the lap he would collapse, so you took to following him this time, ready to mark down the exact distance he stopped at.

It wasn't common knowledge that bitties tended to dust at extreme exhaustion, no one liked to test them to their limits But it was still an established fact, the question was whether or not this kind would dust as well.

He reached the quarter mark of the track before he stopped again, breathing heavily, face flushed red with magic. A sign that he was on the verge of extreme exhaustion. You simply wrote down your observation, and kept the button in sight of the mutant coral, causing the bitty to widen his eyes and begin slithering again a little faster than before.

You could hear his sounds of distress, a surprising amount of dry sobs wracking his little body as he went along. His face only getting redder as time passed, his magic running rampant. He reached the halfway mark before he collapsed once again, panting so heavily that you “almost” felt empathy for him.

“You can’t stop yet.” You said, pressing the button, and watching as red smoke curled upwards from the collar. You smelt cigarettes, and mustard in the air. The bitty sobbed even louder, babbling incoherently as he attempted to use his arms to crawl further, which you supposed you could allow. 

He managed to crawl the rest of the distance to the starting point, before he smiled in satisfaction and closed his eyes. You wrote down the result, before shocking the bitty awake. This wouldn't stop just because he was tired. He woke, screaming and staring at you with shock and horror.

“Keep going.” You stated, as you watched him sob wordlessly and attempt to crawl further. 

He kept stopping, and each time you turned up the shock, although eventually you ended up having to stop his shocks at 25. Turning the dial up to 26 caused magic to pop on his tail, roasting him alive faster than he already was. The only thing that saved him at that moment was that his regeneration was “still” at full capacity, healing any wounds instantly. You would have kept turning up the dial but since it affected the results of your experiment, you supposed that 25 would be the limit.

He kept crawling, until the edges of his fingers started to dust, and the red flush on his body started to literally burn him. You didn't let him stop. He lapped once more, before his little body literally started to explode. Horrifyingly, not killing him, as even while his body was malfunctioning his healing was not. In fact it seemed to go into overdrive. 

The popping of his body sounded like firecrackers as the magic rampaged, you could see dust piling up on the ground. Eventually the magic caused more dramatic effects.

His arm exploded into dust, only for it to regenerate right where it had been, then explode once more. 

Ecto flesh had involuntarily started to form, a little belly forming before melting off in searing hot magic, only to form again and boil off. 

His tail wasn't any better, as the scales fell off repeatedly, before forming again.

His skull was the same as his arms, but for some reason he kept trying to pop off his own skull with his disintegrating hands. 

He screamed, then stopped, popping his own vocal mechanism and spitting out dust, before coughing as they regenerated only to pop again. He seemed to be in eternal agony, unable to die painlessly as his own body malfunctioned. The only way it seemed he would die is if he ran out of magic.

“Momma! Please! Help me!” He shouted, and you almost did, before stopping yourself. The data was far too valuable, you ‘had’ to know just how long this would last. So instead you sat by him and timed his death. This wasn't exactly the first time you’d seen a bitty die from exhaustion, but it was the first time you’d seen them recover repeatedly from it.

The whole ordeal lasted for about 10 minutes, like a candle burning down to the last bit of its wick, it petered out slowly. The regeneration slowed down, longer intervals came between regenerated limbs, yielding deformed bones that curled in odd places as they popped like firecrackers while reforming. 

His skull became just a small mouth as his eyes melded closed, his screams changing pitch as his vocal mechanism changed with repeated regeneration. His tail stopped regenerating, leaving only the tailbone, while his melted ecto flesh bubbled ominously as it formed restraints around his deformed arms. 

Dust started becoming a part of the regeneration, forming little pockets that burst like pus from his skull, into an ever growing pile of dust. 

Eventually the screaming stopped, and his tail stopped regenerating along with his arms, leaving a strange mass of crooked ribs and the back of a skull as his little red ai flickered before dissolving in a fizzle of red sparks. 

The air reeked of cigarettes, burnt mustard, and burnt flesh, while magic swirled thickly in a red fog on the ground. You stopped your timer, and let out a shaky breath as you stared at the large pile of dust as it caught fire from the fizzle of magic and became ashes in the wind.

To say it was the most gruesome death you’d ever seen was an understatement. You almost thought it wasn't worth repeating as an experiment.

Almost.

[booksandwords]

The Witch King by H.E. Edgmon

Read time: 3 Days Rating: n/a

This is a book I abandoned. I stopped reading at about 53%

Warnings: drug use, family violence and racism

When you find yourself actively disliking 2 of the 3 main characters it's time to stop reading. I know in my last update I wasn't looking at DNFing but things change. So let me say that I am fully aware that I am not the demographic this is aimed at (young adults) but I read a lot of ya, it's something I enjoy. The main reason I picked this up is my need to support authors that write ace, aro, aroace or other aspec main characters. Edgmon does that and I only found The Witch King by playing in the asexual tag on Goodreads.

When I say Edgemon does it well I'm not kidding. At the point I'm stopping reading their cast includes Wyatt Croft a trans gay ace (though the ace I'm a bit confused on), his best friend Briar who is bi, Jin Ueno "Nonbinary lady. They pronouns, very lesbian.", their girlfriend Clarke and Emyr an almost ideal ally. There's a brilliant poly thruple in play (if I read that right), I'm totally soft for Roman. But all of them are in shades of grey and not their whole identities. Honestly, Edgemons characterisation feels a bit like that in the Osemanverse.

Okay, so why am I stopping? I cannot deal with Wyatt anymore or Emyr. And I'm not invested enough in Briar and her perspective future to keep going. I am wondering where her arc is going, there is potential there but lore means it's unlikely. Wyatt is just frustrating he's all over the place. One step off lusting after the book's villain, flipping like a switch over his feelings for Emyr. I know he's a teenage boy and this is about growth but it's inconsistent and frustrating. Emyr I've never really liked. I think I understand why he's doing what he's doing but he's still refusing to let Wyatt go back to the family he's made, the life he's made, and has a weapon to hold over Wyatt's head (even if he's never mentioned it). The only thing I like about Emyr is his ability to act as an ally both in word and action.

Another reason I'm stopping is the plot. It just feels so slow. I know in the chapter after I'm stopping the pace starts to pick up but to me, it's too little too late. Just some warnings to take note of when looking at reading this there are references to drug use, family violence and racism. I do like the writing and the chapter titles. Each of the chapter titles are quotes, the most important or amusing lines in the chapter. Some examples • Because I don't want to be beautiful. Because I don't want any sliver of my value to be defined by you or anyone else finding me nice to look at, Because I'm a monster and monsters aren't supposed to be beautiful. — Chapter 3. • "I'm a clueless seventeen-year-old who didn't ask for any of this." Roman snorts out, "Weird flex, but okay." — Chapter 10. I included purely because while I only met Roman once he's a realist in a group of idealists. • "Some things never change." Some connections are too important to be broken, no matter the time or distance between people. — Chapter 11. More than a chapter title it's a key quote. • That's enough cis men for today. I would like to cancel all cis men and go take a nap. — Chapter 13. And the context is fantastic. Wyatt's brain is short-circuiting and I'm not sure I blame him.

I don't regret reading this and I may at some point come back to it. But right now I have two space operas judging me because I'm not reading them and this has a hold list a mile long at the local library. Do you know how much that excites me though? To have a book with such good LGBTQ+ rep be so in demand is a very very good thing. Wow this is really long for a DNF write up.