#i feel emotion and its not my meds this has been a forever thing

[hungee-boy]

i dont know if its dissociation or something else but i think i have a lot of trouble figuring out how severe mental episodes are because i dont really feel anything when im having them

like if i have a panic attack my body has to physically tell me by shaking and involuntary jolts, i dont feel primarily anxious or stressed just

uncomfortable and frustrated cus i cant make myself do what i want or need to do

[whorety-k]

Ebony Coasts [Part 5]

Batten down the hatches, my friends. This one is a L O N G one but it was so worth it.

Pairing: Merfolk!Corvus Corax x fem!Marine Conservationist!Reader (second person POV)

Song recommendation: Unloveable - The Smiths

“If I seem a little strange / well, that’s because I am /

But I know that you would like me /

If only you could see me / if only you could meet me /

I don’t have much in my life / but take it, it’s yours.”

Warnings: Ocean mentions / thalassophobia, culture shock and misunderstanding between species, hospital mention, blood / injury descriptions, AMERICAN HEALTHCARE, more horrors of a nine-to-five (Dolly Parton would have words), extreme weather, angst, hurt / comfort

Word Count: 3.9k (SORRY)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 6] [Part 7 (NSFW)]

Driving on uneven roads is difficult enough on its own, and having only one hand while amped up on adrenaline and preoccupied about potentially having lost Corvus forever makes you downright reckless. A particularly hard thump! has you worried about your car’s alignment but you simply add it to the list of things wrong and continue down the road.

The emergency room sucks. You’re not even fully in reality by the time you finish checking in, clutching your still-bleeding hand in your lap with not more than a couple pads of gauze and a random towel you had laying around in the back of the car. It’s a miracle how a human can bleed for over two hours and still be fully coherent enough to lie to their nurses and doctors about a knife slipping while cutting twine.

They don’t believe you for a second, but they both aren’t paid enough and are over-worked enough not to care. Everyone lies in the ER.

A shot of lidocaine and eighteen stitches later, you’re sent on your way with opioid pain meds you won’t be taking and a deep appreciation that Corvus hadn’t scored your dominant hand. It’s still irritating when you get home and try to undress to shower, unable to flex your injured hand at all. You straight up decide against actually cooking, heating up a frozen meal in the microwave and sitting on the couch to overthink everything once more.

The look of complete dismay on Corvus’s face before he left haunted you. 

You had long accepted that the black betta mer wasn’t the most emotionally expressive individual. His carefully neutral countenance rarely gave way to more than a quirk of a brow or occasional lip-turn, so the twisted look of open terror on his pale face shook you to your core both now and then. Hell, in the moment you had even been able to forget about a two and a half inch long laceration in your palm from sheer worry for him. 

You never would have expected a creature so powerful to run.

Another cold spoonful goes down roughly at the thought, and, dissociated, you decide you’ve had enough sustenance. You crawl into bed, exhausted, and feel your limbs sink heavily into the mattress as a deep sigh leaves your lungs. A hollow feeling permeates your chest.

You can’t help the rush of emotions that suddenly overcomes you, choked sobs racking your body as you curl up into a miserable ball around your pillow. The action brings only scant comfort to the throbbing ache in your chest. You don’t remember falling asleep.

The beach is cold, but you don’t care. 

You felt stupid coming back to the shoreline the day after everything, so you waited. Your Monday rolls around and you try to go back to the coast before work, briskly searching high and low for a glimpse of black fins and a glittering night’s-sky of scales. The tides grant you no such favors, and two hours are wasted on nothing when you’re forced to leave. You deflect every question from your coworkers with lies about a kitchen accident.

The next day is scarcely different. You finish your shift in the office like a reanimated corpse, putting in the bare minimum to not have anyone look twice in your direction. You can’t even remember more than the gist of the report you had just read on illegal fishing activity a hour south of you, another damned case of foreign bodies trying to use nonexistent loopholes in the law to talk their way into overfishing protected areas. It was a Coast Guard issue and never should have crossed your desk to begin with, but here you are, tangled in another mess outside of your depth.

You slam the door of your Bronco shut before you stomp onto the dark shore, not bothering to take the cliff down to Corvus’s den this time because you know you don’t have the brain capacity to even think about scaling the rocks. The extra five minute trip down and around the cliffside riddles you with nausea that intensifies when the light of your flashlight finds the entrance to the cavern. 

Of course Corvus isn’t there; you weren’t expecting him to be, yet still it anguishes you. Three days without the merman in your life and you’re already starting to fall apart? It makes you feel pathetic for having grown attached to him so quickly. 

But Corvus had never made you feel that way. Never once had he made you feel like your presence had been a burden to him, eagerly listening to every word you had said to him. He always replied with a caring thoughtfulness to any query you gave him, firm with his boundaries yet forgiving to the innocent faults that had occurred. 

Corvus had a way of making you feel genuinely listened to, even when he didn’t always reply. It was weird to describe someone like him as warm, given his penchant for reserved silence and generally closed-off nature, but the sincere cordiality he had with you had never failed to stir emotions in your chest that you had felt far too anxious to put a label on at the time.

You realize just how taken care of you had always been with the merman. He offered to hunt for you, even if the incident with the ducklings had been an awkward misunderstanding. He made a place for you within his den that could never have any functional use for him as his size. Hell, he would stride along you in the sand instead of asking you to join him in the waves because it was easier for you. You’re wearing a piece of his hoard!

He cared about you.

Your hand gently grasps the raven head pendant, and you sit down in the rickety chair that Corvus has specially gotten for you. The luminescents on the walls seem dimmer than before, and you notice how wilted they’ve become in Corvus’s short absence. Pushing aside the thought that the mer had been putting in actual maintenance to accommodate for you, you brush your hand against the cerulean phosphorescent flora. 

Corvus had taken care of you when you hadn’t asked for it, so you were going to do the same. 

Searching the den for anything vaguely cup-like to transfer water with turns up nothing, so you resort to cupping your healthy hand in that small stream leading into the den. You punctiliously pour the brine over each of the parched plants until they’re saturated. By the time you’ve finished, you notice the vegetation you had started with has already begun to glow brighter. You glow brighter than the cave in that moment.

Wednesday still bears no sign of Corvus, but it does teach an important piece of information: this den had not been abandoned like the others.

You finally gather the courage to check inside of the decorated bed space at the back of the den for the first time since the giant’s disappearance, and you’re flooded with relief when you see the large cache of dazzling objects still lining the walls. Corvus hadn’t left, per se. He just hadn’t returned yet. 

In your jacket pocket is the trusty metal pen Corvus had fixated on so long ago, and in a moment of weakness, you leave it on the stone shelf at the center of the cavern. You had other pens. This one should be his… even if he can’t use it.

You keep coming back to maintain the cavern: wetting the algae and mushrooms, clearing the space of any excess sand the tides brought in, polishing the corroded metals in his collection— nothing escapes your watchful eye. You’ve even accidentally fallen asleep on the bed of furs and grasses, waking up in a flurry to see that you were late for work and needed to leave now, even if you dreaded doing so. 

You always leave a new trinket behind on the round stone ‘table’. Old jewelry, a piece of abalone shell, a tea ball you haven’t used in ages, rose quartz, an entire abalone shell (that you’ve now started to use to hold everything), cool brooches you found at another beach, an enamel pin in the shape of a flying crow, and many other items from around your apartment make their way into Corvus’s den. You rearrange the items into a nice display before you leave.

A week passes. Half of a month. An entire month. The gash on your hand has healed well, the stitches removed with strict instructions to keep the area clean. 

Each day, no matter the weather, you return to Corvus’s beach. The den is monotonous, and recently, you’ve begun to avoid going inside of it lest you have to face the untouched items on the rock shelf more often than necessary. The physical effort to place something in the pile is nothing by now, but mentally, it wears on you.

What if all of this had been for nothing? You had been forcing such doubtful thoughts out of your head for a month faithfully, always trying to look on the bright side. You’ve waited longer for a pay-off before, haven’t you? 

Why was this any different?

…because it hurts. No matter what pep talks you give yourself or happy memories you relive, coming back to the beach hurts.

You’ve been persistent to the point you’re starting to think that you’re nothing more than an annoyance instead of the oh-so-great protector of the coasts you had foolishly thought yourself to be. What a sick fantasy, you think, meddling in the life of something so obviously beyond you. The delusion that you could ever be a part of Corvus’s realm has poisoned you to the point of desperately coming back to the barren sands for even a hope that you’ll see more than the black apparition in the reveries of your mind.

The apartment is a mess. Unfolded laundry piles in the basket, dirty clothes along the floor. You’ve used the same towel to shower for long enough that it’s starting to smell of mildew, but just thinking about the effort of washing a load of towels makes you feel like lead. It took an infestation of ants for you to do the mountain of dishes that piled in your sink. Everyday tasks become chores, and chores feel impossible. 

Still, you drag yourself out to work again today. The weather is awful: torrential downpour with gusts of wind that nearly knock you off of your feet. No one is working in the field today lest OSHA get a taste of blood in the water (literal or metaphorical). You drum your fingertips across the wooden desk as you read a private request for development nearby a protected habitat, opposite hand fiddling with your necklace. You can’t bring yourself to take it off, even if it hurts to see in the mirror each day.

You’re in the middle of a paragraph about intended waste management when a heckling voice jogs you out of it. “I didn’t take you for the goth type,” it jeers, and you look up to see one of the environmental science team leads. A man twice your age. What was his name again?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you retort, audibly weary.

 “The necklace,” he gestures at your throat. Your coworker sits against your desk, uninvited, looking down at you with leery eyes. “Haven’t seen you in that number before.”

You simply shake your head and look back down at the paper, uninterested in the conversation. He doesn’t take the hint.

The lead continues, “You haven’t been as chipper recently. Where’s your spunk? Your fire?—” he follows the words with a ridiculous hand gesture— “Those bags under your eyes could be checked in at the airport.”

You’d laugh at his joke if you weren’t already in such a piss-poor mood. “I’m just tired,” you state, not turning your head to look at him, “I’ll be fine.”

A hand on your shoulder causes you to jolt. “Look, kid, we’ve all got our bad days, but I can tell when someone needs a break—”

You throw the offending hand off of you and stand up roughly, throwing your chair back into the wall in the process. You feel heated. “I told you, I’m fine!” Your words are laced with venom, scratchy and raw and bitter. 

The commotion causes the lead to recoil, distaste written on his face. Other people in the office are starting to stare, and you meet each of their gazes individually. Maybe that was a bit too far.

You sigh, shoulders slumping and head falling forward. Everything aches. “You’re right,” you admit, offering an apologetic look to what’s-his-name, “I’m not feeling well.”

It takes no more than a few minutes to submit your request to leave early. As soon as it’s approved, you rush out of the building. The torrent building inside of you has nothing on the rain around, and you high-tail it out of the parking lot. 

Truly, you didn’t mean to end up back here today. The ocean is too rough, the cliff perilous, the beach an utter mess. The thought of just how stupid your actions are does nothing to stop you, though. 

You run down the embankment to the dock, shoes getting soaked from the crashing waves as you search the water. 

Nothing.

You scramble to the den, slipping and falling down the rocky slope and barely catching yourself before you hit your head. 

Nothing. 

You claw your way through the sands— up soggy hills and over rocky ledges, around complex twists and turns in the sandstone, under and over jutting stones, looking anywhere for alabaster white. 

Nothing.

You’re back at the dock, watching the serpent of metal squirm and thrash in the storm. With unstable footing, you sloppily traverse the writhing mass of steel, barely able to hold yourself upright as you reach the end of it. The storm forces you to your knees, and you place your hands on the lip. Despondency grips you, tearing at your throat.

“I’m sorry!” you cry, voice drowned out by the thundering of rain. “I don’t know what I did but I’m sorry!” A black wave pummels into your small body, the force of an ocean threatening to knock you off of the dock. Still, you cling. You duck your head against the chilled metal, letting out a hissed breath before inhaling a mouthful of seawater. Blubbering, coughing, you rise back up and look out over the waves. They are cold and unflinching.

When the fury of the storm lulls, you force yourself to continue, hoarse. “I messed up and I just want to know how, okay? I don’t know what I did, I—” you choke off a sob, shaking your head, “I-I…” Muscles cry at you to stop, body begging you to return to the car for warmth. You persevere. You have for the last month. 

“I miss you, okay!” The wail carries across the ocean, echoing across the tides back at you like a taunt. Even in the calm of the storm, rain batters against you. The dock stops squirming so intensely, and you take the moment to catch your breath.

Even in your honesty, even in your raw vulnerability, screaming to the heavens for an answer, you receive nothing.

You turn away from the ocean and sink down onto yourself, defeated. The sobs you had been holding at bay spill out, and you hug your knees as you bawl into them. Your clothes are soaked, the wind is cold, and your chest feels miserable. 

Even with the storm beginning to pass by, you feel no better. You will away the tears eventually, wiping wet tears with a wet sleeve that feels like sandpaper, and ready yourself to leave.

The utterly shattered face of Corvus Corax looks at you, a few feet from the edge of the dock, just barely above the water. Eyes of onyx lay wide with guilt, grimacing.

You do not hesitate to throw yourself into the choppy water at him.

Corvus has no time to react to your actions before you wrap your arms around his neck clinging onto him as you gasp like a fish, clutching the coal-and-bone giant close to you like a lifeline. Right now, in the swell, he was.

Tentative arms snake around your midsection, slowly but surely pulling you closer to him. You feel the merman press his face into your soaked hair, taking in a deep breath of your scent before a rumble leaves him. “This is no place for you,” he whispers, and you can only feel him fly through the water like a bolt of lightning, unable to look up from his neck with how firmly he holds you. When you can finally move your head, Corvus already has the both of you on land, beelining it for the den with a look of conviction on his face. 

You didn’t even know you were trembling before you got inside, the surprising warmth of the cavern thawing the numbness in your arms and legs. The frantic betta strides right past the chair in the main room with you in his arms, heading straight for the bed space. It’s only when he gets to the ‘bed’ that he abruptly stops, looking down at you.

“You’ve rested here before.” It’s another half-question, half-statement, and once again it’s correct.

“I fell asleep after taking care of the algae, I’m sorry—”

Corvus cuts you off by hastily lying the both of you on the furs and feathers, the action causing you to let out an ‘oof’ as the air is forced from your lungs. The way he curls and desperately clings to you like a lost child has you feeling all sorts of complex emotions, but you do not fight it. When you open your mouth to speak, he gently shushes you with a shake of his head. You rest beneath his chin in silence.

For the first time in over a month, everything feels okay.

“I hurt you,” Corvus’s gentle voice breaks the silence, barely audible. It’s laced with sorrow so deep that it cuts into your heart. With a shaky hand, the giant mer peels you away from him, looking your entire form over. 

You show him your scabbed and scarring palm, the area pink but almost fully healed by now. You jump to reassure him, “The doctor said it was a clean cut. Easy to heal. I’m okay.”

Corvus shakes his head again, gently taking your injured hand in his. He holds it to his chest, over his beating hearts as he looks deep into your eyes. The downpour inside of him has yet to quell. 

“I hurt you, and I could not bear it,” he restarts, twin hearts pounding in his ribcage. A heavy pause follows as Corvus thinks, wanting to explain himself properly yet lacking the experience to do so. His ear fins twitch up and down as he debates how to continue. Eventually, he sighs, looking around the walls of the bed space. "In fleeing like a coward,” he laments, “I have only hurt you more.” 

The sentence causes the tension to snap inside of you like a wire. “I came back here every day looking for you. Every. Single. Day,” you admonish, tears welling in your eyes, “I took care of the plants. I swept out the sand. I even polished everything so I could keep myself busy!” You go on a total tirade about your activities, Corvus’s gaze not once leaving you as he takes the brunt of it all. Falter, your words catch in your throat as tears spill. “...because I was so afraid to lose you that I couldn’t bear to be anywhere else.”

Corvus’s eyes soften with guilt, expression falling. He makes to respond, but you beat him to it.

“But I’m so glad you came back, because I don’t know what I would do if you didn’t.”

The merman’s mouth shuts, and his gaze returns to you. He does not hesitate to pull you close once more, gorgeous charcoal fins blanketing you. You run a hand over the appendage, unable to stop yourself, and Corvus lets out a blissful sigh. “I was afraid, so I fled without thinking of the consequences,” he explains. You do your best to sit back to watch him talk, but Corvus doesn’t allow you much room to move. He continues, “I am already… an anomaly amongst my kind. I was not created to have these sorts of simple domesticities, and I feared what would occur if I overstepped my bounds.” His words leave you with more questions than answers, but you know better than to prod the mer. Anomaly amongst his kind? He had mentioned brothers before his disappearance. You wonder what the others may be like.

Seeking to comfort the giant as he speaks (and partially out of scientific curiosity), you run a hand over his gill covers again. A soft gasp leaves the merman before he catches your hand in his, withdrawing just enough to look down at you. You give him a shy, cheeky smile.

“...as you are now,” he jests, raising a playful eyebrow.

“Sorry,” you say, not even remotely apologetic.

Corvus lets out a soft huff in response, when his eyes focus on the silver chain around your neck. He uses a talented claw to fish the raven pendant from underneath the neckline of your shirt, gazing upon it with the same fondness you had seen just before he fled. Before you can question the look, you’re shocked by the smile he gives you: a genuine grin, eyes crinkled at the outer corners and sharp teeth visible. For the first time, you see that he has fangs, the tips of canines poking into his lower lip. 

His eyes flick back up to yours, and his smile softens. Corvus croons, “I must apologize again for what I have taken from you.”

You’re confused by his statement, tilting your head at him. “What do you mean?”

The merman gently tips up your chin with a knuckle, keeping his claws away from the skin of your delicate neck as he leans forward to place a chaste kiss to your lips. It’s unpracticed and clumsy, Corvus being so much larger than you, but the cold taste of the sea and ocean minerals has you addicted. A delicate hand cradles your face when you lean into him, and the moment ends all too soon.

“I am here, and I will not be pulling such an imprudent stunt ever again,” Corvus promises as he pulls away.

“Thank you,” you whisper breathlessly, before nestling yourself into the crux of his neck and shoulder. 

The tender moment warms you, the shaking in your body finally coming to a stop. Your clothes may be soaked and salty, but the soft bed beneath and gentle embrace of the mer ease you. You let out a soft giggle that catches Corvus’s attention, and when the merman lets out a questioning hum, you remark, “If you ever do that again, I’m getting my boating license and hunting you down myself.”

Corvus hums from above you, knuckles tracing up and down your back. “From what I have learned, I should expect no less.”

-----------------------------------

HI PLEASE DON'T BE MAD AT ME FOR THE ENDING OF THE LAST FIC I PROMISED I WOULD FIX THINGS

This took far longer than expected I am so sorry but I hope everyone likes it!!

[Part 6]

[sixx6sexx2love]

DATING YNGWIE MALMSTEEN

OMGG ITS BEEN FOREVER IM SORRY🙏 MY MEDS ARE STABLE NOW. AND ALSO IF U GUYS DONT KNOW WHO YNGWIE MALMSTEEN IS JUST PLS PLS READ IT I THINK YOU GUYS WOULD LIKE HIM (HES ALSO A CAT PERSON!!)

also his name is pronounced “ing-vay” so u guys won't say some stupid shit like “yeeng-wee”💀

word count: 815

warnings: alcohol, arguments

dating Yngwie malmsteen, a guitar god, would definitely be something.

In the 80s, he was at the height of his career, and his band, Rising Force, was gaining popularity worldwide but you guys would probably start dating when he was already doing solo work.

If you dated him in the 80s, you would have experienced firsthand his passion for music and his intense personality. But it could have also been a rollercoaster ride, he has a temper and bad mood swings.

you guys could meet in different ways, maybe you were at one of his concerts and you caught his eye, or maybe you work in the music industry as a roadie, promoter, and meeting him backstage or on tour, or maybe you're also in a band and you open for his shows.

but most likely a party is where you guys would meet, he partied a lot just like any other.

yngwie would use pet names like sweetheart, love and darling, I can't really see him as a babe or baby person unless he was drunk off his ass or apologizing for something.

because this is the 80s and he was at the peak of his career and known for his intense personality and being all fiery (literally, he lit his guitar on fire on stage), i highly doubt he'd be afraid to show some pda. 

though it would be kinda rare to see him make out with you or grope you in places he knows that there will be paparazzi and stuff, but there's always that one rare picture of you two making out at a party that shows up 30 years later on pinterest LMAO.

but hed hold hands, hug, and kiss you wherever.

plus if you guys got engaged or something or just for fun, hed have a photo shoot with you (kinda boring though, it'd just be like any other photo shoot some rockstar had with their girlfriend)

now Yngwie never had a problem with drugs but was a major alcoholic  and he was quite a party animal, but when he drinks he's more loose and carefree and sometimes even goofy.

its mostly when he's sober that he acts like the guitarist version of axl rose lol.

he likes his wine, not much of a hard liquor guy. like if he were choosing a drink for himself, its definitely some kind of expensive wine or champagne, but if there was only whiskey or something wherever he is, he won't complain.

literally every interview I've seen him in he has a big ol glass of wine.

I can see you two taste testing wine, he'd just have a bunch of bottles on the table and you two would just constantly refill your glasses.

yngwie is veryyy dedicated to his work and very arrogant when it comes to playing guitar.

he doesn't let ANYBODY touch his shit like seriously, thats why he started doing solo stuff because he couldn't play with bands.

so with that he probably wouldn't let you in his studio. not like in a “no girlfriend zone” but if he's recording or just frustrated then he needs that time with no distractions (cus ur so distracting you pretty little thing rawr😍)

but if its just like a whatever day then you can be in the studio with him, hes fine with that.

and just to be a good boyfriend and make you feel included, he'd ask for your opinion but wouldn't really take it too much into consideration if you had a suggestion, but would get a little annoyed if you said you didn't like it.

arguments with him can be really intense and emotional, hes a passionate person with a temper and is known to be easily frustrated especially if he felt like he wasn't being heard or respected.

he would lash out at you and use strong language, he could be stubborn and refuse to compromise at times, which could make resolving arguments difficult.

making up after an argument would be kinda challenging, he holds grudges and is slow to forgive, he could be stubborn and take time to cool off.

However, if he did reconcile with you after an argument, it is possible that he would be passionate and sincere in expressing his apologies. He would likely be genuinely remorseful and would want to make things right again.

anyways I feel like hed really like telling you what its like in Sweden and you get to hear his Swedish accent that was still thick since he had only moved to America in ‘83.

and he'd tell you about his first band he made when he was 10, and how he would listen to queen and how he looked up to Bryan may, and how his younger brother plays drums.

he'd definitely talk about taking you to Sweden to meet his parents and older and younger brothers.

@bisexualnikkisixx

[rjalker]

First:

One of Abene’s flailing legs hit Brais and knocked her to the floor. Miki was the only one fast enough to act. It grabbed Don Abene’s torso, and its whole feed was one scream of an urgent assistance code. I got an arm around Abene’s waist, pinning one of her arms. The other was desperately scrabbling to hold onto Miki. If she hadn’t been wearing the suit, she would have been torn in half. If the hatch hadn’t had a safety sensor that was giving us time to clear the obstruction, she would have been crushed. I wasted three seconds trying to pry at the spidery thing gripping her helmet. It was red and had eight multi-jointed fingers, that was all I could tell at the moment. Then I thought of the obvious solution. The air was breathable, and she could be treated for possible contamination as long as she still had her head. I felt around her neck, slowed down by the unfamiliar suit design, then my fingers hit the little tab. (I would never have found it in time in my armor; the human skin overlay on my hands is much more sensitive.) I pressed the tab and twisted, and the emergency release unlocked her helmet. It was stuck in the door for almost a full second, enough time for me to push off and twist away. Then the thing on the other side snatched it out of the gap and the hatch snapped closed. I landed on my feet holding Don Abene, head still attached. She slumped against me, gasping, her hands knotted in my jacket. Miki was at my shoulder, worriedly poking at her feed, its long fingers gently lifting her hair to check her neck. It said, “Don Abene, do you need medical assistance? Don Abene, please answer.”

-

Miki cocked its head at me, then at Abene. Still dazed, and possibly concussed, she hadn’t let go of me yet. She stared up at me, her brow wrinkled in confusion. Following my wounded human protocol, I had upped my body temperature to try to prevent her from going into shock. She said, “Miki...? Who is this?”

-

Abene started to nod, then winced. She patted my arm and pushed away a little, and I let her stand on her own.

Later:

Abene nodded understanding and put the med tabs for concussion and shock into Miki’s good hand. “Miki, please take care of Hirune while I work on the control station.” Then she frowned at me and said, “You’re bleeding.” I looked down. I was dripping onto the floor, a mix of blood and fluid. I hate it when I leak. My veins seal automatically and some of the shrapnel had popped out, but the projectile in my side had moved around, reopening that wound. I cautiously dialed up my pain sensors to check; oh yeah, that’s what had happened. Ouch. Abene said, “Were you hit?” She stepped toward me, reaching to push my jacket aside. I jerked back a step. She stopped, startled. Miki turned, its visual sensors focusing in on me. I checked its camera and got a view of my face. I thought I had gotten good at controlling my expression, but apparently only when I wasn’t feeling actual emotions. In our feed connection, Miki said, ::Abene won’t hurt you, SecUnit.:: Abene held up her empty hand, palm out in a gesture that usually meant “don’t shoot me,” except she wasn’t afraid. She was matter-of-fact. She said, “I’m sorry, but you need treatment. Will it be better if Miki helps you?” I said, “I don’t—” and stopped there because I didn’t have any way to finish that sentence. I needed help, I didn’t want anyone to touch me. These were two mutually exclusive states.

Consenting to touch someone to save their life is not consenting to touch them in any other situation.

Consent at one time does not equal consent forever and always.

This is basic fucking shit, people.

Just because Murderbot is willing to touch people to save their lives does not mean it secretly likes touching people and is just pretending otherwise because it's shy, or has self esteem issues, or is playing hard to get, or wants to look cool.

Stop erasing the fact that Murderbot's touch-averse just because it's not fucking palatable or shippable enough for you. Stop pretending that touch-averse people's boundaries don't matter and aren't real.

Athiktophomisia is not any more fucking okay than any other form of ableism.

[summercatastrophe]

So hear me out. What if... Just a what if that my dumb brain made. What if Eda turns out to be a Demi-Titan? She got blessed by the Titan AFTER the unsuccessful Day of Unity. As I've said, this is just a thing that my over thinking brain did.

The Owl House gang stopped it of course. BUT, greater things has to be sacrificed for greater good. The portal was closing, and Belos is controlling the whole Isles while still forcing his plans for the day of unity to happen.

To cut it short, Eda was the one who sacrificed. She pushed Luz back to the human realm just in time before the portal closes and the one who sacrificed her life to stop Belos.

She died. Yes, I'm cruel. But then, instead of crossing the afterlife, the Titan gave her a chance to live again. Only to know the consequences of accepting its deal when she's back again on the world she once left.

As much as I like to fill in more details, my brain got drained and became lazy like me.

So I made something... Angsty (?) Fluff (?) I don't know, something like that?

Something about a special someone bidding goodbye to a certain witch blessed by eternal youth.

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(Oh, a little word before reading this. This takes place 22 years later after she got resurrected.)

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The hand she is holding onto is cold, like it has been soaked in cold water for hours. She can barely feel the warmth it has if she won't squeeze it a little tight. But despite that, she knew that the little warmth she's feeling is a sign that they are still hanging unto the life they had.

Yet... Why does it hurts her so much. She's supposed to be rejoicing, that her partner, the love of her life, is staying with her a little more by her side. But then she knew, the more they stayed, the more they are hurting.

"Eda?" A slurred, shaky voice snapped her out of the thoughts she doesn't even want to over think. She raised her gaze from the old, wrinkled hand she'll never get tired of holding unto and was met by a pair of dark green orbs.

"Wakey, wakey, Rainestorm." She greeted softly with a smile, hiding the gloomy emotion she has lately. "How's your sleep? Sorry if I wasn't here when you rested. Luz needs words of encouragement for their later date with Boots." She informed them as she gently made soothing circles on their hand that made them smile.

"It's alright, Luz needed to be calmed down anyway." They let out a chuckle. "She's been frantic and getting stressed out the whole week. She said she wants her and Amity's date to be perfect."

"But it doesn't really needed to be." Both of them muttered the same time, sharing soft laughter after.

They looked at her like she was the scorching sun, the bright color that shines even and beyond their darkest nights. They looked at her like she was the scorching sun, the bright color that shines even and beyond their darkest nights. They looked at her like she was the wave weaving the sounds of the sea, calming and wild, beautiful as she should be. "Good morning, my Calamity."

It made her smile brighter, and Raine could only do is to stare at her in awe. "Good morning to you too, sleepyhead. Now come on, time for breakfast." She cheered as she stood up from her seat and helped them get up.

The way Raine groaned and shut their eyes tightly like they were in pain made something in her heart clench. She carefully put a hand on their back as they are now completely sitting on the now-pillowed-stuffed nest. She quickly reached for their glasses that is neatly folded above the safest zone beside her nest, the side table.

"Are you okay? Does it hurt? Wait, I'm gonna get you your meds--oh, farts, you have to eat first." Eda doesn't know if she'll move from her position or not. Sitting beside the love of her life makes her want to just stay here forever, which she can do... But they... can't.

She felt them intertwined their hands that made her look at them. They let out a smile, which Eda obviously know that they are just wearing to keep her from worrying too much. "I'm okay, Eda. It's just the usual, nothing serious. Look! I can even do.. this!" To Eda's surprise, they made silly faces using their hand. She doesn't know what is the connection between their body pains in the morning to what they are doing right now, but she has to admit, what they are doing made her laugh a little.

They still has to practice harder the forte of making hilarious things.

"You're such a dork." She said, rolling her eyes on the process. Raine stopped making silly faces before facing her with a smirk etched in their wrinkled face.

"Your dork." They replied. She smirked before cupping their face with both of her hands, colliding their temples carefully. "Dang right you are." With that, she closed the distance between the two of them.

They have shared plenty of touches, kisses, and even more than that. Though, she--the both of them still feels like this was their first time doing it. It's always like a new world to explore and a new feeling to feel. It's odd, and yet it's new.

After a moment of eating each others faces, Raine was the one who decided to part due to lack of breath. They were both panting heavily like they also sucked each others breath, partly.

Eda's eyes were closed when she felt them wiping something in her cheeks. When a sob escaped from her lips, that's when she noticed that there were tears falling from her eye.

"Shh... It's okay." Raine's soothing voice just made her cry more. She didn't dare to open her eyes as she knew that she'll just cry buckets when she see how... the sparkling source of her happiness... is slowly drifting away like an ending melody.

Raine doesn't know why their beloved is crying. But they already have a hunch why. She's thinking about it again. About what the future holds for her as the day she fears approaches closer. They are sure for one thing though, they are one with whom who'll... not be there to watch the closing future with her.

"You won't leave me, right? You won't leave me early just like Mom and Lily, right? Please... Please, stay a little longer... Be with me a little more." Her voice was in pain and desperate, it seems like she's holding unto something that isn't meant to last. It's making them feel bad and hurt...

"I love you..." Was all that they could say. Promises won't seal that feeling in her that she's doing her best to not feel while they are here, and they knew that very much.

Her heart clenched painfully. Even they knew that they are running out of time. She knew Raine as someone who doesn't talk about something without assurance, and it pained her that they can't even say the words she badly wanted to hear.

Though, they could only assure her one thing. "My love for you won't end even until my very last breath, Eda. I love you." They said softly at her, wiping the tears on her cheek and leaning down a little to kiss the top of her nose.

"Can you open your eyes for me, Calamity? I want to see that sunshine in your eyes." With a little effort of calming herself, she did what they told. That dark green orbs would never fail to look at her with all the love they have for her... unbreakable, unending love.

"Your eyes symbolizes new beginnings. You are the sun that starts my day with warmth, and the sun that ends my toughest times." They lifted her hand and kissed her palm without breaking their eye contact. "You are my new beginning, the person I'll only love every end of the day."

She wiped the tear that rolled down her cheek, only this time she shed tears because of the way they bring joy and warmth inside her effortlessly by the way how they craft their words and express their never ending affection towards her.

"I love you." She replied, a warm, soft smile etched in her face. That made them smile.

"I want you to know... To never let the hardest times loose the way you shine during the daylight and darkest. I love you, my toughest,"

"Badass..." She interjected, chuckling as she bump her head softly with them.

"badass, and beautiful Calamity. Wait for me, okay?"

She swallowed that hollow feeling in her throat. She closed her eyes and planted a soft, slow kiss on their lips. The coldness of that part in them just made her feel like she's being ripped apart.

She made a move to nod their head. She opened her eyes, and the dark green orbs that always greet her in every moment looked at her the way the sun rise and set over the horizon. "Of course. Greet my family once you get to that place, okay? Hug them tightly for me."

The scenery suddenly changed.

The purple grass and snapdragons around them swayed gently as the breeze passed it. Her bright orange hair tied in a ponytail followed the wind's length. She brushed the grey that blocked their sight, smiling painfully as she did. The way they placed their head on her shoulder as she hugged them from behind makes her want to freeze the time.

It's not yet enough... She's still not yet ready.

She'll never get to be. But this is it, the time has come. She has to face the inevitable.

She have to say goodbye.

"I'll be okay. I mean, I'll miss you for a while... and I'll not be able to function properly." She chuckled without humor. "But I'll be alright. I'll get moving still... I'll try to be okay."

She's someone who can lie like it is her second skin. But Raine is the one who can read and see her behind those facades. "Will you promise me one thing?"

She didn't bother to hide the tears that stream down her cheeks when they said the thing she has to promise. "Don't cry."

She remove one hand that is wrapped in front of them and used it to wipe her tears. "Well, that's hard for a start."

"I don't want you to cry when you'll think of me. I won't be there to wipe your tears. I won't be there to comfort you anymore." They said. Just like her, the words are also hard to say. Especially when there are still many words to let go, but not enough time to use.

"I want you to smile when you think of me. Live and cherish those memories we shared together happily." She hugged them tight and cried silently at the crook of their neck.

"You are being unfair." She cried. "I can't promise you that. I am not that heartless..."

"Will you promise then, eventually?"

"Will that make you happy?"

They nodded their head without hesitation, looking over their shoulder softly. Eda tried to calm herself. "I promise." She sobbed.

Seeing her like this... it's making it hard for them to go. But they have to, they are already tired. "Are you tired?"

They didn't closed their eyes as they watched the setting sun over the horizon. It's bright. Brighter than it used to be.

"Can I rest now?"

She rested her chin on the top of their head, sobbing as she did. "You stayed awake for me for a long time. I'm sorry for tiring you, my love. I'm sorry for being selfish." She whispered, hugging them... for the last.

She felt them unclasp her hold around them and instead clasped their hands together. She's crying endlessly now, like a faucet that can't turn off. "I love you." They heard her muttered. It was soft, it was promising... She doesn't need a recorder to keep their words with her. Her ears, heart, mind, and all of her will keep everything about them close to her until the next time they see each other again.

Until the next time she'll hold them like this again.

"You can rest now, Raine. Have a safe journey out there. I love you."

The setting sun over the horizon gave it's final hues before disappearing from the vast sky. They gave her one final whisper of love and goodbye, giving them one final comfort before closing their eyes.

The setting sun marked the end of the day, as they left one last smile before drifting away... completely now.

Everyone says that the sunset always signals a new start, a better beginning. A new day, a new life.

But she has her own point of view...

Sunset reminds her of days gone by, when promises were made followed by saying goodbye.

"Until the next sunrise with you, Eda."

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Sorry for my grammar, not my main language. Also, I'm not that good in writing. I just wanted to share what's on my mind like facebook always asks me to. Thanks for reading!

[hargrove-mayfields]

Day one of the Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! I’ll be participating this month as a writer! The prompt for today is Knife!

warnings for mentions of suicidal ideation and attempts, death, child abuse, and blood.

Billy met Steve in the psych ward.

Well, they met officially at Tina’s party, but that wasn’t the real Steve. That was the King Steve. Deeper than that though, even the Steve Harrington everyone else saw even after the breakup and the fall from grace still wasn’t the real thing.

That was fake smiles, overdone nonchalance to cover up the wound from his fallen status. Now he was stripped down to himself, all bloody bandages and tired eyes, the boy he was pretending to be finally broken down to reveal this.

Apparently, Ruthie Harrington found her son with his grandfather's switchblade- all the other objects in the house sharper than a spoon and with less sentimental value had already been tossed -bleeding all over her freshly polished linoleum floors. She dropped him off at the hospital a night ago and nobody’s been by to see him since.

Now, it’s by pure coincidence that Billy’s already in on the same day Steve’s admitted.

He’s been locked up the past three days compared to Steve’s one. These small town hicks are jumpier (ha) than he thought, and don’t think doing the walk and turn test on the edge of the quarry after downing a bottle and a half of fireball is as funny as he does. Whatever. Cid would’ve thought that was badass as hell.

So he was admitted, on suicide watch for a stupid joke that wasn’t really worth it, or even really a joke. Max came to visit once. She punched him in the chest as hard as she could and cursed him out for an hour. She’d never done that before. By the time she left they were both in tears, and maybe Billy realized a thing or too about his carelessness. Realized for the first time that someone cared.

But he’s still in here for another week and a half by law, so. He’s not going to mope about it. And while Steve Harrington showing up is about the last thing he’s expecting, he decides that’s at least something he can work with. Definitely brings a little life to the place.

He waits until Steve’s intense watch period is over to bug him, once they’re out of their cramped little rooms for a couple of hours to “socialize” (see, the more sound of mind keep an eye on the other patients while the nurses take their smoke breaks) Billy goes straight to Steve. Him and Harrington are far from friends, but that’s pretty much irrelevant when the only other choices for company are kids younger than them too scared to approach them and people too deep in their midlife crises to bother with teenage drama.

Throwing himself down in the blue plastic chair across from where Steve settled in, Billy kicks his feet up on the table,, “What’s up Harrington? Didn’t expect to see a familiar face in here.”

But Steve, poor Steve, takes one look at Billy with those haunted brown eyes, and his face just falls completely apart. There are tears on his way too pale cheeks before Billy even has a chance to breathe.

The smile drops off of Billy’s face, “Jesus Harrington, I know m’not looking my best surviving on hospital food and cigarettes without a hairbrush, but that’s a little unwarranted.”

“Shut up. Not everything’s about you, Hargrove.”

“Oh I disagree with that. But I get the point. I’ll let ya be.” Billy hums, scooting his chair back and getting up. He stops when Steve starts to speak, “Y-You outta be careful saying that kinda stuff in here.”

“What?”

“That the world revolves around you. They’ll come up with a diagnosis for that and keep you here forever. Drug you ‘til you forget your own name, let alone your status.” Steve tells him with humor, wiping the tears off his face.

Billy nods in understanding, sits back down with an interested smirk, “This ain’t your first time here, is it?”

“Is it yours?”

“Nah. I’ve done some shit on purpose, some on accident. Once it wasn’t even me. But s’never done anything to help so far.”

Steve puffs out a sigh, “Don’t I know it.. I’ve been in and outta this place since I was like, ten. Clearly nothing’s changed.”

“Why? What’s your dirty little secret, Harrington?”

“I cut myself, dumbass.” He deadpans, looking at Billy with a bluntness in his expression that reads more concerning, more like indifference to what he just said than matter-of-fact.

“No shit. But that ain’t the secret.” Billy probes further, can tell he’s getting under that mask Steve wears, “Why do you do it?”

“Legally, I can't tell you. And I don’t think I would anyways.”

“What about if I tell you all about me first? I got no reservations ‘cept the one that got me a bed here.”

“It’s not a hotel, Hargrove.”

“Eh, might as well be. Feels like the damn hotel California.”

“Is that why?”

“Huh? Oh no, I been pullin’ stunts like this long before we left Cali.”

“Like what?”

“Like downing two full bottles of my mother’s meds after she left. Not at the same time obviously, or I wouldn’t be here. Mostly ‘cause my dad didn’t even wanna take me to the hospital either time.” Billy doesn’t look at Steve while he elaborates. Not because he cares, he’s an open book, if a random old woman at the grocery store asked about his last attempt, he’d tell her.

But. He doesn’t like watching people’s faces. Seeing sympathy and concern there. It makes him feel all stupid and guilty. It’s usually not like that with other kids like him, but Steve’s different. He’s got a big heart. Even if there’s no room for himself.

And Billy hurt Steve before. He doesn’t want to see someone he caused pain caring so much about him. He already cracked when Max came to see him. This could be what splits him open, spills out all the things he’s covered up.

So he keeps going, “And like runnin’ out in front of traffic with my friends. They thought we were just playin’ chicken ‘til I stopped dead in front of a station wagon. Metal rims’d done me in for sure if one ‘a the older boys hadn’t pulled me outta the way. Damn near ripped my shirt in half how fast he grabbed me.”

“I’m guessing your parents are the reason why then?”

“Yessir.” Billy deflects, not good at getting deeper into it, “You wanna tell me yours then?”

“I started cutting because Tommy Hagan told me about it. He thought it was freaky, but when he ran his mouth about how they found the neighbor kid in his room, drained of all his blood from his wrists, I wanted to try it. I’ve tried liquor and drugs and all kinds ‘a shit I shouldn’t, but nothin’ stuck like cutting.” Steve pauses for a long time, his eyes going blank, staring right past Billy, “When my mom found out she.. she.. Forget it.”

“Hey, you seen my skeletons. Can’t I see yours?”

“No. I don’t wanna fucking talk about it anymore.” Steve answers, despite his assuredness, his tone wobbling with some unidentifiable emotion.

Talk about mood swings. Billy doesn’t get how nobody would’ve noticed something was up before Steve started carving into himself. Really, he knows someone would have seen it and just ignored it.

It only gets worse though, the reservedness turning to sadness and frustration. None of the words are coming out, but he can tell Steve’s thinking of the stories, reliving all that got him to the here and now. Billy can also tell there’s nothing he can do no to stop him from doomsdaying.

So when Steve is inevitably in the thralls of a panic attack, he tries to hug him tight, to try to get it to stop maybe, that always worked for him at least, but Steve swats him away. Judging from the way he winces, it’s not easy for him to do either, with those thick ass bandages constricting his wrists, but the tears and the pain on his face are buried behind his resolution.

He’s hiding something from Billy.

In hindsight, talking to a new patient about past attempts probably wasn’t his brightest idea anyways, so he switches the subject while Steve works on coming down from his panic attack. He brings up Max and her little nerds, trying to bridge the healthier connections between him and Steve that they’d both been ignoring since the fight. He mentions basketball too, another something they have in common other than trying to kill themselves.

It doesn’t really work, though Steve does stop shaking as bad, just curling up in his little chair and sniffling, pretending not to listen while Billy rambles on and on. But he doesn’t talk. It’s probably better for him not to anyway. Billy himself has been known to say some dumb shit when he’s in distress.

Ultimately, even once the conversation runs out, he stays with Steve until dark. He can tell from the way his gaze sticks to the floor that Steve recovered from his fit a while ago, but he’s embarrassed by having a breakdown in front of him, as if he isn’t in here for the same reason. It helps that he gets it though, and they sit in a comfortable, albeit very prolonged, silence.

Long after Steve gets xanned up and knocked out though, while Billy is still free to wander until the midnight curfew as a low risk patient, he decides to stick with him in his room. Billy’ll never admit it, but he gets nightmares, and he doesn’t want to face that just yet, so with a new friend as an excuse, he’s up half the night watching Steve sleep.

He remembers what happened earlier, how focused Steve was on keeping him away from him, despite his panic, and decides, with a glance at how deeply Steve is sleeping, his greasy hair all strewn about on stiff pillows, that he’s going to figure out what it was.

He snoops around in his bedside drawers, in the bathroom, in the locker in the corner. It’s there he notices the knitted jacket Steve was wearing before, hanging heavy to one side, like there’s something in its pocket. He touches it and feels the outline of something small, so he pulls it out.

He regrets checking though, because it’s a knife. Judging from the old looking engravings on its handle, and the coppery stains within the grooves, it’s specifically the very same one that got Steve hospitalized.

He shoves it in his own back pocket and keeps looking, with a quick glance at Steve, finding a note tucked where the knife had been. Written in perfect scrawl on bond paper that’s been folded a dozen times and stained with tears,

“Do it right next time, why don’t you? Your mother is too soft on you. I’m not paying for this again.

- J.Harrington.”

Billy doesn’t know what to do but throw the note in the trash. Not really in shock, but definitely more than a little fucked up from reading that, he sits on the end of Steve’s bed. His own dad, who'd more than once been the one putting him in the hospital, had never even said anything like that to him.

He didn’t get to talk to Steve much today, but they’ve got as long as Billy’s stuck in here together to fix that. Longer if he just pulls something in front of a nurse. And he wants to, really really wants to.

Because he knows he just met the real Steve, can recognize another broken boy when he sees one, and he knows too, that he never wants to meet a pretty boy like this again.

And if that’s his declaration to get clean, then so fucking be it.

But. He never promised not to hurt anyone. Ultimately he’d still need that outlet.

He keeps the knife. To make sure his pretty boy doesn’t get hurt again.

[imagineyourworld]

Congrats on the 100! That's fantastic! :) I was wondering if you could do prompt 2 with BB era Echo, please?

Hi,

Thank you so much <3!

I hope you'll like it.

Love, Charlie

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Echo x Genderneutral!Reader

Warnings: None

2. Friends to Lovers

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So far you didn't regret your decision to leave Kamino with the Bad Batch and Omega, but every now and then you questioned it a bit. Though whenever you were in one of those moods, as you liked to call it, there was Echo. Even just looking at him, hearing his voice or, even better, his laugh, in the distance helped you realize that you had in fact made the right choice. Before you left you had been a medic on Kamino, often assigned to Clone Force 99. That's how you met Echo, shortly after he joined the group, and how the two of you became close. After his rescue he had to spend a lot more time in the med bay than his brothers and you quickly came to the realization that he wasn't too fond of the droids that usually took care of the smaller injuries, which is why you made an effort to be there for him the second he entered the cold and sterile environment. To say that Echo instantly warmed up to you would be a lie, but once he did it was like the two of you had been friends forever. He told you everything, not only classified facts about the missions he went on with the others or the habits and characteristics of each member of the Bad Batch, but also about his other brothers. Fives, Rex, Jesse, soon you felt as if you knew them as well. His voice grew fond when he spoke of them, and you couldn't help but feel for him when he told you about everything he and his brothers had been through. In retrospect you should have known that you were in love with him way earlier, but the realization only hit you when he stormed into your small room, asking you to run away with him. You knew the right thing to do would be to alert the Kaminoans, the Empire, any sort of authority figure and to lock Echo in your room until they arrived. But the way he held out his hand, his human hand, for you to take and the hopeful look in his eyes made you throw your few belongings in an old backpack and follow him to the Marauder. Since then you've been through ups and downs, and the only constant in your new life was Echo. Echo, who had grown from your favourite patient, to your friend, to your best friend and now the man you were hopelessly in love with, something that Omega, with her childlike curiosity and emotional intelligence, seemed to have picked up on. "Why don't you ask him out?", Omega asked you, a question she seemed to have every now and then. "Because I don't know if he likes me", you told her. With a sigh that was just a bit louder than intentioned you closed the drawer of medical supplies you had just been sorting through. "Of course he likes you, he's your best friend", the girl replied. You now leaned against the drawer and looked at her. In the short time you had been travelling together it seemed as if she had grown already, you'd have to buy her some new clothes the next time you stopped somewhere. "I know he likes me, but I don't know if he likes me like I like him." You jumped as a new voice entered the conversation. "If you're talking about romantic feelings, I'm certain Echo has those for you", Tech told you matter of factly. Omega shot you an I told you so look, which made you roll your eyes. You liked every member of your small group, you really did, but did they have to get involved in this? "You really should just talk to him", Tech added before he left, a bacta patch in his hand.

-------

Talk to him, echoed in your mind all day. Easier said than done, but you knew that the more time you spend with Echo, the more inevitable it became. Maybe this was your opportunity. The two of you were out on a supply run, alone. The planet was small, but peaceful and you had time for a conversation. "Hey, Echo", you started, not even knowing what you were going to say next. "Mhm," he replied while shifting through a stack of second hand shirts. "I... You... You're my best friend, right?", you stuttered. You could see him nod absentmindedly from where you stood behind him. "Do you think Omega would like this?", he suddenly asked, turning around holding a cozy looking grey jumper with a black skull, not unlike the Batch's symbol, in the center of it. Your eyes went from Echo to the jumper and back to the clone. So much for a confession. But maybe it was a good thing, maybe you shouldn't tell him in a market, surrounded by so many other people. After all, telling your best friend that you were in love with him was supposed to be a private affair. "I'm sure she'll love it." A small smile made its way to Echo's face. You knew he didn't have much to give, not in the way of credits or material things at least, so he valued every small gift he could give. You still had a shiny rock in your backpack, which Echo had brought back for you just a few days after you met because its colour reminded him of the colour of your eyes. Looking back at it you should have known that you would eventually fall in love with that man right that moment. Or when he had returned, bloody and beaten with a malfunctioning right leg, but instead of focusing on his injuries the only thing on his mind had been to give you the necklace you now wore every day. It was simple, a silver chain with a star at the end, but it was the most valuable thing you possessed. "I still have a few credits to spare, would you like anything?", Echo asked after he paid for the jumper. You shook your head. While there are things you would want, you knew that you couldn't, shouldn't, ask for them right now. And you also knew that asking Echo to buy something for himself instead would lead nowhere, you'd tried often enough. "How about we get something to eat instead? I saw this cute little bakery on our way into town." Echo agreed and just a few minutes later the two of you walked out of the bakery, each with something called a star explosion in hand, as well as four more in your pockets for the others. "I understand the star part, but why explosion?", you asked as you looked down at the star shaped treat in your hands. Your eyes went to Echo, who had just taken his first bite and now looked at you in wonder. "Ochet", he mumbled, trying to chew and speak at the same time. You couldn't help but laugh. Most of the time Echo was serious, sometimes bordering on stern, but every now and then there was a hint of the man he might have been before his entire world went to shit, a humorous and lively side of him came to light. "Chocolate", he said again, this time with an empty mouth, but a bit of creamy nougat clinging to his bottom lip. Your laughter died down, but the smile remained. You knew that Echo loved chocolate, and rarely ever got to eat it. "A treat as sweet as you, it seems", you said, half joking and half serious. Echo didn't reply, he just looked at you in a way he's never looked at you before. Colour was rising to his pale cheeks, a sure sign that he didn't quite know what to say to that. "You think I'm sweet?", he finally asked. Now blood was rising to your cheeks as well. Maybe now was the time to confess. You had left the town behind, now walking along a flowery meadow, some might say this was the perfect opportunity. "I do." You decided not to say anything else for the moment, waiting for Echo's reaction. He smiled at you. A smile that was so sweet and genuine it warmed your heart. "I think you're sweet as well." Your heartbeat started to quicken at his words. Could this be it? The moment of truth? The point of no return? "Yeah?", you

asked, deciding in the last moment to delay your confession a bit longer. "Yeah", Echo confirmed. He looked at you and then at the star explosion in your hand. "In fact, I think you're a lot sweeter than chocolate." There was humour, but also sincerity in his voice. The hopeful part of yourself had a feeling where this was going to go, so you played along. "I think your heart is warmer than the jumper you bought for Omega." Echo laughed as he looked around, clearly trying to come up with something else. "I think you smell better than all the flowers in the galaxy combined", he told you, his eyes flitting between you and a flower on the edge of the path you were walking. Within a few quick seconds he had bent down and picked it for you, securing it behind your ear. "Good one", you told him with a smile. "I think... I think you're hotter than the twin suns on Tatooine." You knew this was a bolder statement than the ones before, but judging by the look on Echo's face he didn't mind at all. Instead he brushed the pad of his thumb along your jawline. It was only then that you noticed that not only had the two of you slowed down, you had stopped walking all together, now standing alone in the middle of the meadow with the setting sun in the distance. "I think you're more beautiful than the first ray of sunlight after a long night", he said, his voice now close to a whisper. This is is, the voice in your head told you. You took a deep breath, leaned into his soft touch and looked him deep in the eyes before you finally confessed. "I think I love you more than anyone else in the galaxy." For a moment Echo didn't say anything and you began to fear that you had ruined everything, this moment, your friendship, your future with the Bad Batch. But then a smile broke out on his face, brighter and happier than any you had seen before. "I know I love you more than anyone else in the galaxy, cyar'ika." Now it was your turn to smile. You leaned a bit closer, closing the last few centimeters between the two of you, and brushed your nose lightly against his. "Good, because I know too." "Yeah?" "Yeah." It only took that little word for Echo gently press his lips against yours. That first kiss was short and sweet and perfect. As was the second one. Only when your lips met for the third time did it turn a bit hungrier, more pressing. Echo opened his mouth to allow you to take the last hint of chocolate remaining on his tongue. Now that you've tasted both you could confirm that Echo was in fact a lot sweeter than any chocolate in the galaxy. "We should get back to the others", you whispered against his lips after yet another kiss. "I know", Echo mumbled, his lips now pressing soft kisses on your jawline. "But they can wait a few minutes, I've waited way longer for this, for you." Who were you to deny him? After all, you had waited for this moment just as long as he had.

-------

I don't know what it is about Echo that always makes me want to write the softest fluff for him, but he deserves the world after everything he's been through (as well as lots of chocolate and kisses)

[mindmeltonabun-blog]

Doom At Your Service: Analysis & Theories for EPs 7-8

Welcome back to another edition of analyses and theories time with me! I’m going to try and keep this post as short and as simple as possible. In case I don’t, I apologize in advance! Also, sorry if this post is filled with grammar mistakes and confusing syntax...I'm writing/editing this late at night and my ADHD meds have lost their effectiveness.

Anyways Eps 7-8 was pretty awesome and I’m glad that a bunch of my previous theories had come true! For those who wonder how I come up with some of these theories, I just look at everything whether it be big or small. I also try to look for connections and patterns. At the same time, I try to understand the motivations of characters and what is the big picture the writer is trying to paint. Once you're able to do all of that then you can predict where the story is going. This is how for the most part I was able to predict the events and endings of shows like TOTNT and TKEM. Anyhow, let’s get down to analyzing and theorizing! Turn on those thinking caps!

What the Rock Balancing Structure Represents

Rock balancing is a form of art that involves a person placing a combination of rocks in an arrangement. To achieve balance of the rocks, one must be very patient and compassionate. In its completion, the structure represents that while things may appear impossible, they are actually possible. So what seems impossible, but can actually be possible? Hmmm probably Myul Mang learning what it means to be human and ending up becoming human. Notice that both the rock art is next to the plant and the story of Pinocchio? It's saying saying that the impossible can be possible. It's possible for Myul Mang to be able to learn what it means to be a human so that the impossible can happen...he can "grow" up to becoming a real human.

The whole rock balancing structure could also signify that in order to grow, one must overcome one's deepest fears. I don't know about you all, but stacking rocks is a scary thing especially since at any moment the whole thing could fall over. Anyways, if you remembered, Myul Mang had been searching everywhere for Dong Kyung and feeling like one of his worst fears (Dong Kyung not existing) had came true. It's only when he goes to Dora's hospital room and sees both the Pinocchio book and rock structure that he got Dora's lesson. And that's why afterwards you didn't see Myul Mang going on another search for Dong Kyung somewhere else.

A brief digression. I’ve seen multiple people theorizing that the plant and the butterfly represent Dong Kyung and Myul Mang respectively. To them I say, did you just completely miss the part where Dora says the plant is Myul Mang? Myul Mang is both the butterfly and the plant. For those who still don’t see that, let me break it down.

First, what do butterflies symbolize? They symbolize metamorphosis, death, and rebirth. Myul Mang is not a literal butterfly, but he will eventually be one in a metaphorical sense. If anything, Myul Mang right now is like a caterpillar on the verge of entering the cocoon stage that is followed by a reemergence as a butterfly aka human. You can also look at it this way, Pinocchio is a butterfly too. Why? Well, look at what happens to Pinocchio. He is reborn as a real boy after having gone through metamorphosis (puppet -> real boy).

Now let’s examine the plant symbolism. What do plants represent in DAYS? They represent humans. What is Dora growing? A human Myul Mang..DUH!! Sorry, but I didn’t think it was that hard of a concept to grasp especially since Dora has already explicitly said what she is growing in that one scene. For Myul Mang to grow up to become a "good" human, he needs to learn to think about others, forgive himself, be compassionate (not only towards himself, but others as well), love others, etc. Other things Myul Mang would probably need to learn is how to love his fate or amor fati (loving your fate means loving it all, not just the good parts, but the bad parts too; loving it so much so that you would never want to change anything about it and would gladly relive your life the way it was over and over again for all of eternity).

I don’t think the "plant" will fully "blossom" until Myul Mang sacrifices himself to save Dong Kyung for the sole reason that he loves her (in contrast to sacrificing himself for his own personal gain). Therefore, that's probably the final lesson -- how to be completely selfless.

Dora just wants her son to grow up to be a "good" plant (human) so she doesn't have to end up pulling him out aka end him before he even becomes human! Okay???

Sorry if what I've just said was confusing. What I meant to say is that Myul Mang's personal growth is reflective in the plant's growth. The more he learns of what it means to be a "good" human, the more the plant will grow until it blossoms into a beautiful flower (a real human).

If we want to connect the idea of personal growth to the story of Pinocchio, we see that Pinocchio's growth occurs only after he experiences pain (physical and emotional) and love. From these experiences, he learns what it means to be a "good" boy and is rewarded by the Fairy transforming him into a real boy.

One Wish or Wishes?

In my previous post, I had briefly touched upon how I think Dong Kyung is going to wish for brain cancer to be cured. Though I still think this, I nevertheless want to explore some of the other possibilities of what her wish could be.

Potential Wishes:

1) Myul Mang to Become Human

2) More Wishes

3) Contract to be Voided

4) No One Remembering Her After She Dies

For #1, Dong Kyung wishes Myul Mang to become human, but then she still dies from her untreated brain cancer…so nope. For #2 and #3, are these wishes even allowed? I would like to point out some flaws of the writer. Maybe it’s not so much a flaw, but an annoyance I have with the writer of DAYS. What one can or cannot wish for is not explicitly stated. Due to this, it is somewhat difficult for me to accurately predict what Dong Kyung will wish for. It’s like trying to detect a substance without being given its upper and lower limits or range of detection (sorry for the science related analogy) ! For #4, I guess this one could be probable, but there is just too much evidence pointing to Myul Mang's death. After exploring each of the possibilities, I'm still left thinking that Dong Kyung's one wish will be to cure her cancer.

Anyways, even if Dong Kyung wishes for her brain cancer to be cured, it’s not really a happy ending since Myul Mang still dies. Is there any other way for Dong Kyung to make another wish so that she can save Myul Mang? I think there is and it comes in the form of the “gift” that Dora gave Dong Kyung. In my previous post, I had theorized that the marble may have a larger purpose than just being a symbol of how the fate of the world is Dong Kyung hands. I believe now that the marble’s larger purpose is that it is a type of wish fulfilling stone. Why? Because we know fantasy dramas typically make references to mythology. In this case, the writer of DAYS is probably referencing Hindu mythology.

In Hindu mythology there are 3 main gods:

1) Brahma: The Creator

2) Vishnu: The Preserver

3) Shiva: The Destroyer (Sounds like Myul Mang right? Also, the love story between Shiva and Parvati is somewhat similar to that of Myul Mang and Dong Kyung’s love story.)

Dora is the equivalent to the god Vishnu in Hindu mythology. Vishnu is often depicted wearing a “Cintamani”, a type of wish fulling stone analogous to the Philosopher’s Stone (hint hint…transforms something from one form into another…immortal -> human) in Western mythology. Given this, the marble/Cintamani in Dong Kyung's possession could be the key to Myul Mang’s rebirth.

Some might ask, “Well why can’t Dora just use it to wish for her son to be reborn as a human?”. Well, remember that both Dora and Myul Mang are slaves to the wishes of humans. They themselves cannot fulfil their own wishes or desires. Meaning, even though Dora and Myul Mang can wish for something to happen, they cannot carry it out unless humans wish it too. Also, as I mentioned previously, deities in kdramas never just give humans gift because they’re being nice. Rather, they give gifts to humans so that humans can help them accomplish their overall goals/wishes.

So putting it all together, do you see where I’m going with this? Dora has the same wish as Dong Kyung which is for Myul Mang to live, but Dora is unable to execute her goals/wishes unless Dong Kyung wishes it too. Dora knows that Dong Kyung will probably use her one wish to cure her brain cancer. At the same time, this leaves her son, Myul Mang, to die. Therefore, Dora gives Dong Kyung the wish fulfilling marble with the intention that Dong Kyung will use it to wish for her son, Myul Mang, to be reborn as a human. With Dora/Dong Kyung’s wish, Myul Mang will be free from his cursed life as an immortal and be reborn to be able to live happily with Dong Kyung.

Side note, the rebirth of Myul Mang into a human can either be dependent on Myul Mang's personal growth or it can be dependent on this wish fulfilling stone or both! I'm leaning more towards his personal growth as being the catalyst for his rebirth, but who knows! It very well could be that the marble has a role to play in his rebirth.

Is Dong Kyung Going To Be An Immortal?

No…no…and NO!!

Some might ask why don’t I think this? Well, for a bunch of reasons. I’ll admit I used to think that it would be very romantic for a human to become immortal so that they can be with their immortal lover forever. However, the more I thought about it, I came to the realization the notion of forever is not romantic nor beautiful. At its core, the concept of eternity is quite terrifying and ugly. And if you haven’t realized already, the writer of DAYS has been making multiple arguments against immortality. For anything to have meaning, it must have an end. In this sense, the end is beautiful.

To get my point across, I want you to try and think about some things. What keeps life meaningful? Experiences? People? Well, imagine doing something you love for a year. Now imagine doing it for trillions or zillions of years. Experiences no matter how good they are at first will eventually become tedious if you do it for long enough. For example, eating your favorite dish may be good for a while, but not for zillions of years. At one point or another, you ultimately lose your desire to want to eat it or eat entirely for that matter.

Now surely getting to know people and loving them can keep your life meaningful right? Well, how many times do you think you could handle knowing and loving people who eventually disappear? Eventually, you grow tired of crying and mourning over dead loved ones that you become numb. Now imagine being Dong Kyung. She would have to witness her family, their family, and so forth dying over and over again for all of eternity. Doesn’t that seem tortuous? Sure, one could argue that at least she has Myul Mang with her, but do you really think her love for him could sustain her forever? The relationship between Myul Mang and his mother, Dora, is a prime example of how a loving relationship could turn sour over a great deal of time. The gift of immorality Dora bestowed on Myul Mang became a curse instead of a blessing. So why would Myul Mang want to give Dong Kyung something that was basically a curse for him? As for Dora, she probably wouldn’t want to give Dong Kyung the same gift after seeing what it did to her son.

If you continue to think that Dong Kyung will become an immortal being, did you really smell what the writer of DAYS was cooking or did you just smell what you were cooking?

The Bad Case of the Riddles

From what I have been reading on multiple platforms now, it would seem that a lot of people are rather confused about a lot of things. It’s understandable! Throughout the show, the writer has presented some complex philosophical concepts that may be difficult for some viewers to grasp. To further add to the confusion, the characters at times do speak in what appears to be riddles. This I believe may be one of the major flaws of the writer. She has to consider that her audience are probably people who have never read any philosophical works before. Most viewers aren’t here to decipher cryptic messages or see how they’re connected to some major philosophical concepts such as eternal recurrence, existentialism, nihilism, amor fati, etc. Most are here to shut off their tired brain and enjoy some good fantasy romance! I know I’m totally one of those people!

Needless to say, I did find myself in a debate of whether I should discuss some philosophical concepts referenced in the show as to help you all gain a better sense of understanding. However, I concluded that it would take too much of my time to do so. Additionally, despite my best efforts to use the simplest of words, I found that whatever I had already written may have still been confusing to the everyday reader. Anyways, if there are any particular scenes or dialogue you all want to me go over, please feel free to use the ask button and I’ll do my best to try and answer them!

Whats Going to Happen Next?

Probably more filler type stuff aka more bs. It's common in kdramas for characters to go back and forth on their initial decision of whatever. Dong Kyung is going to break up with Myul Mang because she loves him and doesn't want him to die. And before the breakup, she's going to give him some good memories to remember her by. Following this, she's going to try and love herself so that she's the one that ends up dying and her wish is going to be for everyone to forget her? Okay......Zzzzzzz!! Idk... Dora is probably going to intervene somehow to get Dong Kyung and Myul Mang back together again.

Other Random Thoughts

What I think would be interesting to learn about is the connection between Dong Kyung's parents death and Dora past self's death. It wasn't just all a coincidence that they both died on the same day. Who knows... maybe Dong Kyung was meant to be in the car that day with her parents, but Dora's past self sacrificed herself to change Dong Kyung's fate.

Also, I still don't think Dong Kyung is going to die, I mean you got her brother praying to the deities that she lives!

Okay, I'm done. I wrote this in Microsoft Word and it was 5 pages long. My brain is dead. There's probably something I should've gone over or elaborated more about, but oh well. Thanks for reading this disjointed post!

[silkling]

Hi! I remember you said you liked angst. So... Can you write another fanfic on the AU where the rescue bots were found by the Autobots, with the following plot: Blades is forced to repair one of his comrades, who was seriously injured in battle?(either Chase or Heatwave, your choice) 👀

Ooh, I like this idea! Imma do it. I’m going to make it worse though. Just because. Apparently I really like hurting my favorite characters. Go figure, huh? Also, for those who didn’t read the first, this fic is in the same verse as this one.

Also, beware that there will be descriptions of graphic injury, so be wary if that’s something that upsets you.

———————————————————————————————————

The stars were silent. They always were, of course, but during the Ark’s recharge cycle the silence was all-consuming. Blades was in the rec room, sitting in the little viewport alcove that took up a small portion of the wall. They were passing by the same star system where the Sigma had been found by the Autobots, all those stellar cycles ago. 5 vorns or so had passed since then, which felt both like an eternity and like no time at all.

Blades knew Cybertronians lived a long time. In reality, 5 vorns was barely any time at all for one of their kind. But for Blades, who had once only ever known what it was to save lives, the past 5 vorns that he’d spent learning to take them had dragged on and felt almost unbearably long. He hadn’t actually killed yet, but he’d already learned how do so with a blaster, how to do it by hand, and even how to get in close and use a blade. Apparently, he was particularly talented at that last one. Given his name, the Protectobot found it rather ironic.

“Blades? What are you doing up? You do not have any duties this night cycle.”

The motorcycle startled, his engine revving and his processor snapping to attention at the unexpected voice. He hadn’t killed any bot yet, but he’d been in many, many, many battles now, some of which still gave him nightmares. He’d developed battle protocols very quickly after joining the Autobots, and now took being surprised as poorly as most of the others did. His optics sharpened and focused on his unexpected visitor with unnerving intensity, before his sighed and relaxed, tense armor plating loosening once more.

“Chase.” he greeted. “I know. I couldn’t sleep. I was remembering that last battle.”

“Ah.” Here, his friend’s voice softened, and the blue and white bot walked over to join him. He nudged the slimmer youngling aside until there was room in the small alcove for them both, sitting opposite from his friend and letting their pedes entangle. “I understand now.”

And he did. The last battle had been fought on a young planet, one with plentiful energon mines, and where the local species were still primitive. It had been a difficult fight. Blades, like always, had fought on the front lines with Hot Spot, Groove and Streetwise. Chase and Heatwave had been nearby, too. Somehow, they always found themselves fighting near each other. As with most of their battles, Boulder and First Aid had remained behind at the Ark, away from the battle proper. It hadn’t been a very unique battle, at first. Then the Deceptions had unveiled a new weapon. It had destroyed the planet, and every life that called it home had died with it. The Autobots had been too late to realize what was going on. They hadn’t been able to stop it, only flee before they too fell to the new weapon.

Blades had taken it particularly hard. The small motorcycle was a deeply empathetic bot, and it had hurt him to know they they had brought their war to another planet, and that it had resulted in the destruction of that planet and the loss of the lives there. Chase couldn’t blame him. All of Sigma-17 had felt that loss particularly hard. For all they had become soldiers after being awoken from stasis, all four younglings were still Rescue Bots at spark.

“We will simply have to stop Megatron next time and destroy his weapon before he can ever use it again.” Chase said after a moment of silence. He knew Blades wouldn’t be reassured by useless platitudes.

“Yeah.” His voice was quiet, distant. “Yeah.” he repeated, sounding a little more present as his optics hardened. “We will. He can’t do that again.”

Blades turned to meet his friend’s gaze, chin lifting. “We won’t let him do that again.”

Chase smiled, nodding. “No, we will not.” he agreed.

Blades relaxed completely then, sighing and shifting until he could lean into Chase’s chest. “Thank you, Chase.” he whispered.

“Of course.” he said, his arms coming around to press the smaller bot to his chest. “I will always be there to support you, when you have need of it. I am your Amica, after all.”

That was another thing that had changed in the past few vorns. Blades and Chase had always been fairly close, since they found they balanced each other out quiet nicely. Even before stasis, they’d been close friends. Blades appreciated Chase’s calm, peaceful logic and found it helped bring him him back from some of his nervous breakdowns, and Chase found Blades’s natural easy-going and sociable demeanor soothing and helpful at understanding situations which normally gave him pause. It had only taken them a couple vorns after coming out of stasis to formally perform the ritus and become Amica Endura.

Blades laughed, his hands raising to curl across the arms pressed to his chestplate. “Yeah, you are. And I’m yours. You can always count on me, Chase.”

A small smiled tugged at his lips, and he turned his gaze to the stars outside the viewport, in his chest, his spark pulsed, warm and fond with affection and belonging. He knew that Blades was feeling the same right now, both younglings basking in the quiet peace and comfort of each others’ presence.

“I know.”

Outside the Ark, the vast expanse of space stretched on. The billions of stars shone brightly, and life moved ever forward. Time ticked on, and though this moment was calm and soft, there would be many moments to come that would not be. What the future held exactly, only Primus knew. All his children could do now was hold on and ride out the storms to come.

——————————

When it finally happened, Blades would later reflect that he was surprised it had taken as long as it had. But then again, First Aid and Ratchet would probably have done their best to keep it from happening, to make sure his own emotional turmoil wouldn’t cause him to falter. They couldn’t stall it forever though, because this was War and at the end of it all that only meant he would have been forced into a situation like this eventually.

The orn had stared out like most other orns. The only difference has been that the Ark had landed on a planet that apparently was fairly rich in energon. The planet was also largely uninhabited, save some plant life, so they wouldn’t have to worry too much about harming the local inhabitants. Everything had been going well. They’d managed to collect energon, enough to halfway fill one of the storage hangars, and had been in the process of mining more when the Decepticon attacked.

Blades still wasn’t sure where they’d come from. Maybe they’d landed the Nemesis on the other side in the planet and travelled the rest of the way themselves. Maybe the Nemesis was still above them all, and the ‘Cons had just made planet fall on their own in order to attack. Either way, Megatron and his soldiers had showed up, and once again a battle had begun. Blades hadn’t been near his team or his brothers when the attack had begun, so he hadn’t been able to join them for the fight. That had made him nervous, but he’d fought anyway, shooting at any Decepticons who got close and using the terrain as cover.

It hadn’t been long before there’d been a call for medical attention, and Blades had reacted on instinct. He’d sprung from behind the large stone he was hiding behind, following the call until he came across Cliffjumper and Arcee. The other two-wheeler was unconscious, a shot leaking energon from her neck. Blades had been quick to get Cliffjumper’s help to drag her behind another nearby outcropping, and he’d settled down to begin triage care. As soon as he’d been assured of her survival, he’d swiftly ordered the red mech to bring her to the med-bay. Usually, he didn’t have the rank to order other bots around, but he’d found that all the Autobots would tend to do what he told them when it came to medical matters.

He’d turned to rejoin the battle when Sunstreaker had dragged his twin around the outcropping, dropping Sideswipe with a snarled demand to fix him. Blades hadn’t taken offense. They were split spark twins. They shared a spark bond with each other, like he did with his brothers. It wasn’t the same exact type of bond, but it was close enough that he understood the panic. He’d fixed the severed fuel lines, patched up the sparking wires, and welded the gashes in red armor before telling Sunstreaker to get his brother out of the battlefield. Sideswipe wouldn’t be able to fight further with his wounds, even though Blades had managed to repair the damage completely. He’d need to recover.

It had seemed that, after that, the Autobots must have figured out that the outcropping was where emergency triage was being done. They’d probably passed the information along their comm. system while Blades had been working on Arcee. After the Twins, Blades had found himself busy with many bots. Most had only surface level wounds, injuries that needed a quick patch so they could rejoin the fight. Others needed a full field repair and a retreat, like Sideswipe had. Blaster had been dragged to him by his Cassettes in critical condition, and Blades had had to quickly patch the life threatening damage, then order Ironhide, who’d come in to get a leaking fuel line patched, to take the host mech to Ratchet and First Aid immediately.

Once he’d done that and turned to his next field patient, he’d caught sight of blue and white armor. His processor was deep in its rescue and medical protocols, so much so he initially tuned out all his surroundings. It wasn’t until something in the back of his mind whispered that the shade of blue was familiar that he paused, taking in the full extent of the damage. It was bad. The bot’s chest was the worst off. It looked like they’d been hit point blank with an explosion. The metal armor of the chestplate was melted and twisted, with large areas gone altogether. Blades could see into their chest and realized that even their internals were damaged. The fuel pump was dented and had been pierced with a shard of blue armor, there were several sparking wires and spurting lines, and worst of all, the bot’s spark chamber was caved in and cracked. The motorcycle could see the weak glow of the bot’s spark. That wasn’t even all the damage. The poor bot was missing a leg, and it looked like one of their arms had been practically shredded. Even beyond that, most of the bot’s frame was dented or damaged in some way. Blades could barely pick out the paint job under all the damage.

Even so, his processor started screaming louder as he realized that, despite all that, the colors and patterns of that paint were familiar. Blades froze, his spark almost spasming with dawning horror, and he turned his gaze up to the bot’s face. As soon as he locked onto the slack face, saw the darkened optics that he knew should be a glowing amber, he couldn’t hold back the agonized keen as his medical protocols stuttered.

It was Chase.

His next vent came out in a harsh whine, and he couldn’t take his optics off the slack face of his Amica. Blades almost jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Jazz looking at him with a grim expression. The Third in Command nodded his helm at the prone form of his teammate.

“I know it’s tough’.” he said. “But ya gotta take care o’ him. If he don’t get the care he needs now, he ain’t gonna survive the trip to old’ Ratch. He needs you, mechlin’, so don’t spiral now.”

Blades stared at him for a sparkbeat, and then jolted as if he’d been physically shocked. He turned back to Chase, trying to ignore that it was his Amica who was wounded and dying in front of him, and got to work. He took in the damage once more, fingertips transforming into the tools he needed, and with a hard vent he forced his emotional processes to mute themselves in his processor, letting medical response protocols rise to the surface uninterrupted. Abruptly, his previously distraught EM field went blank and numb, making the bots around him wince with the suddenness if it.

Jazz stepped back, a flicker of regret in his visored optics. He recognized what Blades had done. He’d shut down his emotional response core. It wasn’t something the average bot could do, and he suspected the youngling only knew how to because of his medical training. The only other bot he’d seen do that was Prowl, and the Praxian had to do it if he wanted to come up with his tactics without crippling himself emotionally. Luckily, the emotional core could be brought back online later, but he knew it was never a pleasant process for the bot who had done so to come out of the emotional numbness. He only regretted that Blades had found it necessary to do so in the first place. No youngling should have to do something so drastic. It wasn’t right.

In front of Jazz and the other Autobots who were gathered behind the outcropping for minor repair, Blades worked on. He ignored the sounds of weapons fire and destruction beyond the small safe haven he was huddled in, focusing only on the task in front of him. He had to make sure Chase survived. He had to.

Failure wasn’t an option.

——————————

The rest of the orn passed in a haze. Blades was aware of things distantly, but wasn’t processing anything emotionally. He knew Jazz took Chase off to the Ark as soon as he’d ensured his friend wouldn’t die in the next few groons, until Ratchet or First Aid could get to him. After that, things happened quickly. He’d patched up the other bots around his outcropping who’d only needed minor repair, but he’d had no major patients after that. And then Megatron was calling a retreat, and Ironhide had come to guide Blades back to the Ark. None of the older bots seemed upset at the two-wheeler’s numb demeanor. He was in shock. He knew it. They knew it. They didn’t hold it against him.

Once he had been safely delivered to the starship, Ironhide had gone off. Blades wasn’t paying attention to where he’d gone. Maybe some of the others were gathering the last of the energon. Maybe everyone was preparing for take off. He wasn’t fully aware, wasn’t fully processing his surroundings. He drifted along in a haze, until he found himself in front of the medbay doors. That was when his focus sharpened. Usually after a battle, he’d join Ratchet and his brother in the medbay and do his part to help. He needed to go in.

The only thing making him hesitate was Chase. His Amica was in there. He’d done all he could on the battlefield, but had it been enough? Could he face it again?

He would have to. He stiffened his spinal strut and steeled his resolve, then stepped forward and the doors opened. He stepped into the medbay, his optics roving over the occupied berths, until they landed on a trio of berths by the far wall. On one, there was a familiar blue and white frame. Chase. On the second, a red mech lay prone and limp. Heatwave. On the third, a bulky green bot was resting on his side, unconscious and unaware. Boulder.

No.

Blades’s spark screamed in agony. He could see some of the damage from here, but he couldn’t see it all. Heatwave’s lower half looked like it had been crushed under something extremely heavy. The metal armor was dented and almost flattened. Blades could also see that the red mech’s optics were blackened and shattered, if if they’d been hit by a blaster bolt. Boulder wasn’t much better off. His entire back was a melted, twisted mess. Blades could see his spinal strut poking out of the ruined armor. There was so much energon. All three of his teammates were covered in it. It almost looked like they’d decided to incorporate pink into their paint jobs.

An agonized keen tore its way free from his vocalizer, and and medical protocols he had been ready to engage fell away under the onslaught of emotional anguish. He didn’t notice how First Aid had gasped and pressed a hand to his chest plates the second he’d noticed Sigma-17’s damaged states. He didn’t hear his brother call out to him in concern as he keened. He didn’t see Ratchet curse and begin to turn towards him, looking both irritated and worried.

He did, however, feel the hands that clasped his shoulders, the chest that pressed up against his back. He startled, drawing in a rasping gasp, and then he felt a soft warmth wrap around his spark. He knew that presence.

“Streetwise.” he whimpered, twisting to stare up at his oldest brother with wide, over-bright optics.

“Hey, Blades.” Streetwise gave him a small smile. “Let’s go, yeah?”

“B-But I have to stay. I need-“

“Ratchet and ‘Aid can handle it. This was an easy battle. They handled a lot worse than this before you came along.” he cut it. “You won’t be of any use in the state you’re in, Blades. Besides, I’m fairly sure it goes against medical code to come in and treat patients when you’re covered in filth from outside.” he said sternly.

Blades made to protest, but the soothing pulse in his spark from First Aid distracted him enough that Streetwise was able to guide him out of the medbay. He started gently ushering his brother towards the communal washracks, making sure Blades didn’t run into anyone in his shocked state.

“Streetwise, I gotta go back. They need me, I-I can’t-“

“None of that now. You did plenty today. Blades, let them handle it. Your well-being matters too. Right now, that’s actually all I care about. Your team will be fine. Have faith in Ratchet and ‘Aid, yeah?”

Blades whimpered, but he didn’t have the chance to argue further because that was when they came upon the washracks. Hot Spot was there, and he grimaced when he saw the state of his brother, but he forced a smile a moment later and reached out to rub Blades’s audial fins in a way he knew the smaller bot liked. The finial under his fingers quivered faintly, and Hot Spot wrapped a hand around Blades’s wrist to tug him into the washracks. He’d managed to get the others out earlier, and they’d been fairly understanding when he’d explained that Blades was in shock and needed a proper cleaning.

“Come on, bitty Blades.” The largest Protectobot whispered. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? You’re covered in energon, that can’t feel good.”

Blades went stiff at his brother’s words, looking down at his frame and noticing for the first time that his armor was covered in energon. Chase’s energon. A pained whine was pulled from his vocalizer, and Hot Spot winced when he realized he’d said the wrong thing.

Streetwise shot the bigger bot an unimpressed look, but both knew that talking to Blades now would be useless. The smallest Protectobot, though not by too much, had always been prone to worry and panic. Blades was an anxious bot, it was just part of who he was. It meant that sometimes, his worry overcame him and he spiraled. His brothers could always tell when that happened, because his spark pulsed almost frantically and they could sense the overwhelming panic through the bond. When Blades got like this, he lost awareness of his surroundings. They’d long since learned that the best way to soothe him was to use the bond and send comfort and safety along it, to wrap their brother’s spark in feelings of love and reassurance and peace, and pull him out of his panic that way. Thankfully, Blades didn’t spiral often. He was overly nervous, sure, but he’d never let it stop him from doing what was needed of him, and he’d learned to not let it control him. That didn’t mean his emotions didn’t get the better of him sometimes, though.

Hot Spot gently tugged them all over to one of the cubicles, where he’d already grabbed the items they needed. With all three of them in there, it was a little crowded, but they could make it work. The spray of solvent was turned on, and Blades barely twitched as it hit his frame. Neither Streetwise nor Hot Spot were bothered as their younger brother remained silent. They worked together to clean up the mess that was Blades, using wash rags to wipe away the dirt and energon, and then smaller brushes to get in between the armor plating and into the transformation seams. It took some time, especially with Blades so unresponsive, but eventually they had him fully cleaned and dried, and were tugging him back towards their berthroom.

Blades himself was still in a daze. The energon was gone from his armor, and that certainly helped, but he couldn’t stop thinking of his teammates in such dire condition in the medbay. He couldn’t get the image of Chase’s broken frame on the battlefield out of his processor.

Blades was a gentle spark, perhaps even more so than his easy-going flyer brother. Groove was a pacifist, and Blades was deeply empathetic and his brothers knew that he felt things on an emotional level far more keenly than they were really able to grasp. The rest of the Protectobots had been able to adapt to the War, especially since their introduction to it had been more gradual. But Blades, who had always hated seeing anyone hurt, to the point he’d taken any extra classes he could at the Rescue Academy just to be able to help as many others as he could? The War was hard on him. He’d adapt, in time, but with how sudden his introduction to it had been it would be a while yet before the violence stopped making him so upset.

The trio eventually arrived at their berthroom, and when the door closed behind them Blades felt Streetwise and Hot Spot move away from him. A klik later, he felt another frame press against him, and a pair of arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. It took only a beat for him to recognize Groove. He whimpered, his fingers twitching and clinging to the copter bot. Blades felt soothing warmth wrap around his spark from the bond, coming from all four of his brothers. Love, warmth, assurance, and peace soaked into his spark, and Blades let out a broken noise as everything from the day crashed into him.

Groove crooned gently, tightening his grip on his younger brother. “Easy, Blades.” he whispered. “We have you. We won’t let you fall, yeah? Just let it out.” he soothed.

Blades shuddered, then sobbed and clung tighter to his brother. He felt Streetwise press up against his back, and Hot Spot’s arms came to way around them all. The four of them stood there for a while, Blades sobbing and gasping as all his panic and worry rushed through him at once. He hadn’t been able to really process it, before. That was the danger of muting ones emotional core, as he had done earlier. It meant that he’d need to handle the emotions he’d blocked off all at once instead of steadily and as they came. So, he was forced to stay in his brothers’ hold, letting them keep him from falling as everything crashed into him. For many breems, he wept into Groove’s shoulder, his own shoulders shaking with the force of what he was feeling.

But, finally, his cries petered out, and then he was just venting harshly, shaking faintly in the aftermath of it all. He felt Hot Spot smooth a hand down his side, then come back up to rub his finial before his biggest brother spoke.

“How about we watch some of that old drama we used to like before the War? We still have the whole series downloaded on the old travel holo-pad. I know you missed a lot of the episodes that came out while you were in stasis, bitty Blades.” he said.

Blades reset his vocalizer, wincing at his staticky and rough his voice was even after doing so. “You have the whole series of But a Chance?”

Streetwise hummed. “You bet we do. We kept downloading the new episodes that came out after…” he paused, trailing off. Blades knew what he was talking about. “Well, we kept downloading the new ones. Never watched them, though. Not beyond the ones that came out before them Purge.”

“Didn’t feel right. Not without you there to make all your little comments.” Hot Spot quipped.

Blades huffed a weak sound of amusement. “You still watched some without me, though.”

“Awe, only a couple, bitty Blades.” Hot Spot smiled. “Not too many. So? What do you say?”

Blades gave another huff. “Yeah.” he agreed,

“Good, because I’ve already got it set up.” Groove said cheerfully.

“Presumptuous.” Streetwise teased.

“Shut it. You’re the one who told me to prepare for a Blades Cheer Up Night.” Groove snipped back.

“We all knew it was time for a Blades Cheer Up Night. Why are you sparklings arguing?” Hot Spot asked playfully.

“I’m older than you.” Streetwise said, frowning.

“Only by half a breem.” Hot Spot sang.

“And I’m not a sparkling!” Groove protested.

“Hush, little brother.” the two older Protectobots said at the same time.

Blades giggled weakly. “Yeah, hush. The big bots are talking.” he rasped.

Groove turned an offended look on him. “We’re all older than you. And bigger.” he sniffed.

“I’m prettier though.”

There were noises of outrage around him, and Blades felt his lips quirk up. Even as Hot Spot tweaked his finial in retaliation, he just felt his smile relax a little more. His spark was still heavy with grief and fear, but already it felt warmer and lighter. He didn’t protest as Streetwise eventually got the other two to simmer down, pushing them all towards the large berth. At the head of the berth, the holo-pad was set up on a small desk. As soon as all four brothers were settled, Groove started the episode Blades remembered having left off on, and they settled down to watch.

Things were peaceful, for a while. They got another episode in, and Blades couldn’t help himself then as he watched the characters go about on screen.

“I’m sorry, Clearview did what now? That’s stupid. She’s stupid. Why would she even do that?”

“Well,” Groove purred. “It could be because she’s actually-“

“No!” Blades hissed, drawing back a pede and planting it firmly in his brother’s hip, sending the flyer tumbling off the berth. “No spoilers!”

Groove cackled, but crawled back onto the berth and flopped on top of his younger brother. “Okay, okay. Have it your way.”

“You two are being far too loud for anyone else to enjoy to show.” Streetwise said blandly.

“Blame Groove.” Blades sniffed. “He started it.”

“You’re the one who kicked me!” Groove squawked, outraged.

“I will not be spoiled! Bots who spoil the show for other bots recharge on the couch, remember? That’s the rule!”

“Well, we don’t have a couch.” Groove said smugly. “So there.”

“We have a floor, don’t we?”

“I’m not recharging on the floor!”

“You are if I make you!”

“Try it!”

“Fine!” Blades huffed, and proceeded to launch himself at his brother.

Groove yelped, not expecting Blades to actually go through with it, and the two wrestled on the berth before their elder brothers pulled them apart. Streetwise grabbed Groove and rolled on top of him, while Hot Spot dragged Blades into his lap and wrapped the motorcycle in his arms.

“Hush.” he admonished. “It’s show time now, not wrestle like feral sparklings time.”

“We’re not sparklings!” Groove and Blades protested in unison.

“Then stop acting like it. Now shut up and watch.” Streetwise said, though they could all hear the grin in his voice.

There were grumbling protests, but the two younger bots obeyed and went still. After another couple episodes, they were released to drape across each other. Time wore on, and the Ark slipped into it’s nightly recharge cycle. By this time, Blades’s brothers were in recharge themselves, curled around and on top of each other while Blades himself continued to watch the drama. He was waiting, after all.

Another groon passed, and the door to their berthroom opened. First Aid trudged in, exhaustion hanging from his frame. He went straight for the berth, tipping right into it and not even bothering to get his legs in. Blades huffed a laugh, gently tugging his younger brother up into the berth. He reached out to turn off the holo-pad, then refocused on First Aid as the youngest Protectobot cuddled firmly into his side. He knew his brother was tired. Pit, he could feel the depths of First Aid’s exhaustion over the bond. But he had to know.

“‘Aid? Are they…?”

“They’re fine.” First Aid mumbled. “They’ll make a full recovery. You don’t have to worry, Blades.”

All at once, the last of the fear and worry left him, and Blades released all tension in his frame with a heavy vent. “Thank you.” he whispered.

First Aid hummed softly. “‘Course. They took care of you when we couldn’t. I won’t let you lose your team if I can help it, Blades. ‘Specially not your Amica.” he mumbled, his words slurring towards the end.

Blades smiled, his arms wrapping around the little medic as First Aid nuzzled into his embrace. “Yeah.” he murmured. They really had taken care of him. “Recharge, ‘Aid. You need it.”

“You too.”

“I will.” Blades agreed. “Goodnight, little brother.”

“‘Night.” First Aid made a sleepy, content churring noise. “Love you…”

Blades blinked, then tightened his grip around him. “Yeah.” he whispered. “Love you too.”

He watched his youngest brother drift off into recharge, then offlined his optics ans let himself drift off as well. Just before he fell unconscious, he felt Groove roll on top of them both, and Hot Spot’s arms coming around all three of them. From the other side of the largest Protectobot, Streetwise’s hand came to rest on Blades’s head, his thumb twitching against his finial.

Comfortable and warm, his frame and spark both surrounded by the peace and love of his brothers, Blades drifted off into recharge, his rest easy and quiet with the reassurance that his Amica and his team would recover. His spark was warm with the sheer joy, adoration, and contentment that pulsed all along the bond, and his rest was easy and undisturbed.

Beyond the walls of the Ark, the stars were silent.

———————————————————————————————————

And here it is! What did y’all think? For those who don’t remember, the Purge that Streetwise mentioned was the massacre of the Rescue Bots.

Also, poor Blades. He has it rough. At least he’s not alone, right?

Let me know how you liked that! If you want more of this verse, I might expand on it after I take care of more prompts. (Or you could request a specific scenario yourself.)

Until next time, folks!

[actualsunflower]

I have a huge life update to share rn--- My top surgery consultation is scheduled for July 5th!!!! I’M SO EXCITEDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!! I’ve also been vaccinated!! :D ANNNDDD MY LEGAL NAME AND SEX HAVE BEEN CHANGEDD!!!!! :DDDD kind of a lot has happened since I’ve been actually active around here But now I guess is the much harder part, my official surgery date will be set at the consultation, but there’s a required $1,000 fee to set the official date for my surgery. The $1,000 covers a portion of the surgery as well, and the base price for the surgery is $8,500. I’ll get the exact price on July 5th, but that’s their base rate. I need to earn or raise at least $1,000 of the total cost before July 5th to secure my surgery date!! I’m going to take commissions when I can, I have 1 almost entirely complete right now and then I can take on more! I’m gonna have a more detailed explanation of everything under the cut so this isnt super super long so pls read under there if you want all the deets Pls consider commissioning me or donating so I can get top surgery!! read more for more info and me being sappy abt my emotions--

I’ve waited so long for this and I’m fricken excited, it’s the last step in transitioning for me! It really means everything for me, I feel like I’ve been waiting forever and I can’t believe it’s finally happening !?!!! I am forever in everyones debt here and everywhere because I never wouldve even been able to start hrt if it wasn’t for the help here. I’m just so. Overwhelmed with emotion and gratitude I cant even tell how many times Ive cried and just felt like... actual gender euphoria since starting t..

So abt the appointment, I’m getting surgery with Dr. Javad Sajan, and I’m getting button hole double incision. Im serious his before and after pictures make me so emotional I am so happy and emotional for those people and I cannot wait to feel that kind of happiness and relief. But a big problem about this for me, is that he is in Seattle, and I live in southern Oregon. I can’t drive, so I have to rely on someone else, or take the train from a nearby city (Eugene). My consultation is over skype (which is amazing and a huge relief), but my pre-op appointment is in person, and of course so is the actual surgery. We’re planning on taking the train from Eugene because it seems to be the most reliable way to get there and back each time. Aside from my surgery, I’ve got to cover the price of the trip there and back (twice, once there and back for pre-op, once there and back post op,) and the price of a place to stay during the pre-op appointment. Right now my goal cost wise, is just the booking and base appointment price ($8,500, that’s including the $1,000 appointment setting deposit, which is just a part of the surgery cost and the base covers everything, surgery, the stay at the hospital, nips, anesthesia, everything). The full price is due at the pre-op appointment, and that’s the final bill. My insurance doesn’t cover anything because it’s out of state and county, and because its informed consent model. (which Im choosing because Id have to battle insurance for 2 years minimum if I was getting the surgery in Oregon, but I am very set on my surgeon after considering everything and calling many offices and looking through many subreddits and talking to ppl who’ve gotten it here and there) A lot of this information is on their site as well. As soon as I have my consultation, I will be right here to update everything and set the exact price, which I’ll also be including the price of transportation and staying there. As for paying, I’ve been applying to so many jobs, and even when I get interviews I never hear back from them. People keep telling me to stop admitting I’m disabled but I just can’t do that. Lying about being disabled doesnt make me abled and they don’t get that. I’m still trying though, and I am not going to stop trying until I get a job. But until then commissions and donations are my only source of income. I’ve been struggling getting help psychologically, because I have schizophrenia, and because I was diagnosed with adhd as a child, but I think I’m actually autistic rather than having adhd, and it’s been really hard trying to get diagnosed because I keep getting pushed off or told I cant have autism because I have paranoid schizophrenia or because its “just adhd”, but the medications are just making everything worse, and Ive tried more than one already. My medications for schizophrenia have started not working right, and when my schizophrenia meds get under control, it makes my adhd (?) significantly worse. Genuinely, I really dont know what’s happening. I really dont know whats going on with me right now and it’s hard and confusing and I keep swinging back and forth and it’s making everything deteriorate so fast I cant keep up with it. It seriously effects my ability to do anything at all, even art, and its been like this for the last 6 months. I am trying though, still trying to work, still trying to get a job, still trying to get a real diagnosis and help and Im not going to stop any of that. But I think getting top surgery as soon as possible is going to help me too, because dysphoria has just gotten so much worse focusing on my chest since t has started helping me pass and look so much more masculine. It’s like all my attention went from everything DIRECTLY to my chest and its almost unbearable. Even now since my sex has been legally changed I keep having the horrible thoughts of ‘why, why I am a man Im not supposed to be this way’ and shit idk. I’m getting too serious right now I have an appointment with the dmv to get a new updated driver’s permit with my name and fixed legal sex, and when I do that I can set up a bank account (I cant yet bcs I dont have a valid id/ id at all because I actually lost the other one and have been carrying around that paper one you’re supposed to destroy that is literally from 2016) and when I do, I’m going to set up a proper gofundme for my surgery and the travel expenses, but for now all I have is my paypal and online banking savings account. I’ll get that up asap once I have my id, though (Ive already been to the bank with my notarized judge passed papers and they wont take those yeah I know it’s stupid its like the same thing) But uhhh yeah! Thank you for reading this far if you did lol and considering helping me bcs my god, it literally means everything to me. pls share hehe

[writeintrees]

Shay Bad Day -- Saving Zora Oneshot

from the universe of my novel

Shay has chronic pain and fatigue and is an above the knee congenital amputee

Found this in my old notes (Jan 2020!) and decided to share

“Come on, let's get those meds in you.” 

Okay. Okay, yes-- umm… shit what did he say? She squints at Bennett as if the present blurriness is coming from her eyes and not her brain. Right, medication. Gotta take that. She pats around on her nightstand for a moment before registering the image in front of her. She takes the water bottle he holds towards her. Even the weight of the full bottle in her hand causes the muscles in her hand to seize, every tendon straining across her arm and shoulders. Her lower back aches badly. G-d, sitting upright is too much. In a practiced motion she takes a sip of water, tosses back the entire handful of pills, then follows it with another big swig. Her brain short circuits part way through. It’s as if her brain says swallowing fully is wrong so let’s just not do the full action.

Next thing she knows, she’s doubled over and letting out weak, rasping coughs. The water bottle has slipped out of her hands. Maybe there is a hand rubbing her back, but maybe it’s just a random signal her brain is spitting out. After all it feels like there is a chill breeze on the side of her face that she knows isn’t real. Let’s not even mention the phantom sensations in her missing leg. 

She is still hunched over, propping herself upright with one arm. Every drop of will she can muster goes into pressing the buttons to take off her prosthetic. Her brow furrows as she orders her fingers to move in a semi-coordinated manner. If they could, her eyes would’ve bored holes through the thing with the intensity she directs at it. She is frustrated at her muscles for not moving properly and at every movement feeling like hell.

She is lying on her back. When did that happen? Bennett is hooking her prosthetic into its holder against the nightstand. There is a faint impression of pressure on her shoulder. He must have gently eased her onto the mattress. It would still hurt if it had been forceful. Maybe he said something too. Maybe she agreed. Who’s to say?

G-d, my brain won’t work.

How did I even get here? There’s a flash of dinner. She was doing alright then. Or maybe she was just kidding herself. A faint memory of transfering from the couch to her wheelchair. Or was that from a couple days ago? Or a dream. She tilts her face into the pillow and groans. Fuck, this sucks. There is a pang in her chest and the feeling behind her eyes and-- no, I don’t have the energy to cry right now! 

She stays like that, her face in the pillow, trying to ground herself in her other senses. There is a gentle weight of her comforter being draped over her. The mattress below warps as someone takes a seat at her side. Like a gravity well. A hand rests itself on her shaking shoulders. That one is real. There’s no mistaking it.

Bennett’s voice comes in clear: “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“Fuck.” She whispers into her tear damp pillow. Emotion explodes out of that single word, despair and helplessness steeped in frustration.

“You can get through this, Shay. You’re not alone. You will not feel this bad forever. Tomorrow is a new day. And even if this becomes your new normal, Jared and I will stay with you no matter what.”

Shit she hates how well they know her. How he knows which paths her brain likes to take when things get bad. These tracks are more well worn than she likes to admit. 

Bennett knows the shortcuts out. Not because he read her mind or anything like that, but because she mentioned these thoughts in a messy jumble sometime a few years ago. Things may have shifted but she still has the same obstacles that she is chipping away at. She’s endlessly grateful that Bennett and Jared actually listened. They remembered these things and implemented them on her bad days.

They’re the real MVPs. She needs to give them a big hug-- when her arms feel like moving. Even shifting back to a sleeping position feels like whipping those giant ropes in the gym. 

She knows that Bennett won’t be discouraged by her lack of verbal response. He usually sees her fatigue through her eyes and the easing of her pain in the way her muscles relax. Her body stops shaking from half-formed sobs.

She gasps as there is a tug. “Sorry, this’ll make you feel better.” The hands are gentle at the back of her head. Suddenly there is a release and she is able to sink into her bed. The lump and headache subside all at once. Oh, my ponytail was still up. She sighs, trying not to be saddened by that. I’m going to be okay.

Bennett presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Good night. I hope the spoon fairy comes while you sleep.”

Shay smiles and hums. There is a gentle whoosh of the door opening and closing. White noise wraps around her. The weight of her body is lost under plush blankets and she drifts off with her heart a little lighter.

[random-fandom1]

I’ve been thinking about this for ages and have just gotten round to writing it. 

Some quick background information before we start. Peter is 27 in this and is dating Bucky who is genetically still 28 - 32 because of the cyro freeze. They’ve been dating for 3 years now and no one knows they’re dating (well, maybe some people know. They live with two assassins so Natasha must know, Wanda must suspect at least and Loki knows because he walked in on them doing the you know once. They had to slave after him for a week to make sure he didn’t tell anyone). 

It’s not like they’re hiding it but are at the same time. Who knows what Steve and Tony would do if they found out their precious little peter was dating one of their closest friends. 

Enjoy!

__________________________________________

The avengers have just finished fighting a villain, some kind of alien or something. Like any other time they’re in a fight, they didn’t all get out unscathed. It’s not too bad this time, Peters just fractured his wrist and dislocated his elbow when swinging around and falling. His dads (and Bucky in secret) insist that he goes to the hospital wing to get it checked on. 

This is how they’ve ended up in this situation.

6:48 pm

“But Jamieeeeeee! I want to do the interview, it’s James Corden. You know how much I love James Corden. My hand and arm are fine!” Peter whines trying to get out from under the scratchy hospital sheets Bucky wrapped him in. Bucky rubs the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. He loves his boyfriend but he can get really whiney and clingy when he’s doped up on pain killers.

“Doll, you know you have to stay here. We’ll have plenty of times to go on to The Late Late Show in the Future. For now, you have to rest,” he says as a nurse walks into check his vitals, “I’ll be back later Peter, be good for the nurses”. Bucky starts to exit the room, looking back as he reaches the doorway to see his boyfriend chatting away to the nurse with a pout on his face. ‘He’s probably asking her if she can discharge him without his dads knowing’ he thinks to himself. James smiles to himself as he walks down the corridor to the main floors so he can get ready for the interview.

8:34

It was going well. The avengers had just been introduced and had taken their seats on the 3 couches they brought out for them (Couch 1 = Tony, Steve, Natasha and Thor/Couch 2 = Wanda, Vision, Clint and Pietro because he never died/Couch 3 = Bucky, and supposedly Peter.) Tony and Steve were running late but promised they’d make it by 8:45. Traffic must of gotten bad because of all the paparazzi.

Once the audience had stopped cheering and they had all been introduced to the audience, James started off with the obvious question.

“I notice that we are missing a few people. Does anyone know whats happened to the Roger-Stark family?” James asked. Before anyone could answer they heard a voice coming from the back of the audience

“We’re here, we’re here. The Stark-Rogers are here. This one insisted we take him, no matter how much meds he was on. Children am I right?” Came the voice of the one and only Tony Stark-Rogers. Tony walked in front of Steve who was carrying Spiderman who was wrapped in a blanket burrito. They walked to the front where the rest of the crew were sitting, Steve going to the last couch to dump Peter. 

Bucky could feel his emotions swirling around in him. The frustration of Peter not listening to his advice, worry about his boy’s injuries and if they’ve healed properly as well as adoration for how adorable he looked wrapped up, while completely out of it. As Steve puts Peter on the couch, he let out a small ‘oof’ which James had to resist cooing at. Instead, he gives Steve a nod of acknowledgement and returns to surveying the area with a cold, emotionless look on his face, trying to keep up his dangerous, assassin persona.

At least that was what he was trying to do. It was kind of hard to be a murderous assassin when your precious boyfriend is all tired and clinging onto a blanket a mere 3 feet away from you. He tries his hardest to ignore him. He really does. But all hope is lost when Peter starts to slowly shift closer to him, muttering something about the warmth and ‘my bucky bear’. Peter, bless his little drugged out self, slowly and discreetly shimmies over to his boyfriend. All the attention is on the most well known of the avengers at the front so no one notices Peter nuzzle into Bucky’s side. 

“Babe, doll, what are you doing? We’re on live TV.” Bucky whispers, subconsciously wrapping his metal arm around his boy. 

“Oh Jamie, your nice and warm,” Peter says, muffled from where his head is buried in the crook of his neck. Everything blurs out in the background and the only thing Bucky can focus on is Peter. About how his steady breathing is hitting the exposed skin of his neck and how his petite frame is starting to koala hug his own muscular built one. The boy is perfect in his eyes. His boy is perfect. His. He can’t help but to copy his boyfriend and bury his own face into the boy’s neck.

“Bucky, what are you doing back there?” Comes an English accent from somewhere around him. As if on instinct Bucky replies,

“Hugging my boyfriend what does it look like?”

There’s gasps heard around them

Shit! He must have zoned out badly. Bucky looks up from where his face was in Peter’s neck, face a scarlet red and eyes like a deer caught in headlights. Looking around him, he sees a majority of the avengers with their eyes wide open, mouths agape. The crowd aren’t much better. The studio is dead silent. Peter lifts his head slowly, totally dazed, and innocently asks,

“What did I miss Jamie?”

Buckys eyes land on his boyfriends face, momentarily relaxing but quickly his eyes catch the ones of the people in front of them. His best friend and his best friends husband. Peter’s parents.

Gently placing Peter to the side, Bucky stands up with his arms out, as if he were approaching a lion. Steve has a look of shock and hurt on his face while Tony’s is radiating off pure anger. 

“We, I can explain. Stevie just - fuck, Stevie just listen to me. I love h -” 

Before he can finish the sentence Steve is grabbing him by the arm and taking him backstage into a private room.

8:58

“MY SON! MY SON BUCKY! You were telling me about this relationship for months! About how you’ve been seeing someone, someone younger. But you don’t really have a choice now with people your age, you can’t exactly go chasing 102-year-olds who look 30! He’s 27! Buck, how, why, Bucky -” Bucky cuts him off by placing a hand on his shoulder and massaging

“Stevie just shut up,” Bucky still knows how to shut him up when he’s about to have a panic attack, “Look, first I want to say that I’m actually only physically in the 28-32 age range. You are now older than me punk,

“Secondly, I’m sorry. I wish I didn’t feel this way, you have no idea how many nights I wasted trying to convince myself that I didn’t like him. I love him, and he loves me. You know better than most that you can’t control who you love. Peter, god Peter deserves so much better than me but I’m going to stay with him for as long as he’ll have me. I, I just adore him with every cell in my body. He makes me happy, when I see him he just lights up a room. I, I just love him, words can't express how much ”

Steve stays silent for a moment, looking deflated. Like the small, frail boy he was back then. He looks at Bucky and in that look, Bucky knows, knows that he is forgiven, given half the permission he needs, that he still has his best friend.

“Come here Punk,” Bucky says stepping over to Steve and pulling him into a tight embrace.

"Love you Buck"

"Love you too, Stevie"

9:17

Bucky and Steve had been hugging for just over 7 minutes when Tony barges in with Peter groggily walking in behind him. He's still confused on what's going on, why are his dads so angry at him and Bucky?.

"Bucky," Tony starts off, "I give you forgiveness, a roof over your head, I fucking convinced the government that you weren't a threat! And you go ahead and date my SON!" You can see Tony slowly growing more angry by the second. He continues

"I'd have every intention to throw you out if it weren't for the fact that your Steve's best friend and Peters boyfriend. That would hurt them and I dont hurt those who I love, not anymore. So, I'm here to hear out your side of the story because funnily enough, doped up Peter can't really say things that make sense.'" All eyes turn to Bucky as he gulps but nether the less, starts talking

"Tony, and Steve because I didn't tell you the whole story. I'm going to be honest with you guys, yous deserve to know. I want to start of by saying that I am forever grateful for everything yous have ever done to me. I love yous,

"It was 4 years ago, just after I moved into the tower when Peter came up to me. The kid wouldn't shut up. I wanted to be alone, at least that's what I thought I wanted. We slowly became friends. I trusted him with my life. I helped him with school work, he helped me with nightmares. We clicked, we worked. Feelings started to develope after a while and one night when we were studying on his little balcony, he kissed me and I kissed back. We've been dating 3 years now and they've been the best 3 years of my life. I love him, so so much. So please, don't make us break up, I don't think I'd survive without him. He's my light, my star. I want to marry him and start a family, live in a house just outside of New York so its still convenient for spiderman and avengers business. Maybe have a dog and definitely some goats. I want all that with him" Bucky finished with a tear rolling down his cheek. He really hoped Tony would understand, understand that they love each other 

Tony sighs and rubs his forehead. All the gears in his head are turning and he's getting a headache. Tony sighs.

"Well, I guess there's not much I can do. I believe you Bucky, your a good man. I give you my blessing or whatever to date him. Can we go home now" Tony says walking away, talking to no one in particular. Steve chases after him, leaving the boyfriends alone in the studio room. Bucky is grinning like the Cheshire cat, that's not how he expected that to go. There was definitely more shouting in his head. Peter suddenly comes up to him and plonks a kiss right on his lips.

"Well then Bucky Bear, shall we go home?" Peter holds his hand out but instead of taking it, Bucky scoops him up and carries him out of the room.

"Of course doll, anything you want"

[butchford]

Prompt: AruYuki + Pink in the Night

"And I know I've kissed you before, but

I didn't do it right

Can I try again, try again, try again"

Rewrite verse bc if I did canon adjacent I don’t think I could Take It. Also u know its bad when after all the other essays ive typed out i put a readmore on This One.

To begin with it’s… nothing much. Or at least that’s what they both try to think. Yuki sits at the side of Aru’s hospital bed at two in the morning still trying to process why they’d ever take a knife to the back from Yuki’s own father to protect his mother. And Yuki doesn’t know at all how to feel about, well, Anything. He’s grateful but at the same time he’s… concerned. If anything he doesn’t want Aru to suffer the fallout of his own family’s personal issues despite the fact Aru probably saved his mother’s life. And… fine. Maybe just maybe Aru has wormed their way into Yuki’s heart and thoughts and the blood rapidly pulsing through his veins as he takes their hand in his. “Thank you,” Yuki says aloud in nothing more than a whisper to make sure they don’t wake up. A coward as always, he thinks to himself as he thanks Aru in the only way that feels right to him: a kiss on the lips. And it tastes like a hospital and their lips are unnervingly cold against his, but it’s gentler and longer than anything he’s given Yuno, who’s been disturbingly quiet as well as respectful of Yuki’s space since Aru found her alone in her house after the kidnapping fiasco, to the point of allowing him time alone with Aru “your mans a hottie” Akise. And maybe it’s more than just a thanks. Yuki allows himself against his better judgment to brush some of their hair out of their face and hold their hand a little longer. He remains at their bedside but makes sure there’s no indication of his actions should they wake. And of course Aru’s been semi conscious the whole time but so out of it on pain meds they think the whole thing is a sick dream; a fabrication of a reality they could only ever pray for. So neither of them speak of it, despite the fact Minene saw the moment of truth but figured it would be best for the two to figure it out on their own accord.

The next time it’s Yuki slumped unconscious in Aru’s arms after having been thrown back into a wall by an explosion while distracting the mayor’s men so Yuno could snipe him in the vault. Blood runs from the corner of his mouth and his nose as Aru runs their fingers through his hair and mutters desperately “please wake up please wake up please Yuki… please don’t leave me” with no avail to the point where, even with Minene and Nishijima and Mao and Hinata and Kousaka looking on, they cup his cheek and choke out “I never got to tell you that I…” and they close the narrow gap between their lips and his, tears mingling with blood as Aru barely audibly says “I love you, Yuki; I’m completely undone without you. Please just… know this in your heart.” And with that Yuki coughs and shakes and his eyes flutter open to make out the dust in Aru’s hair and the blood smudged against their face from his; it tones down their otherwise borderline angelic appearance in Yuki’s eyes between the crimson eyes and halo of a mess of hair against their skin marred over with scars like constellations. More tears, a genuine “Yuki you’re alive!” that outdoes their last given after being kidnapped, a thousand thoughts in a mind still buzzed from being unconscious interrupted by a single clear I don’t care, a thumb numbly caressing their cheek and wiping a smudge of blood off of their pale skin, a pair of lips clumsily colliding with theirs but they’re so relieved and downright ecstatic to the point where the taste of coppery blood and dust means less than nothing to them, a quiet “I love you too; I think I have for a while now,” an embrace that threatens to crack his ribs and a few barely contained sobs. Minene ruefully tearing her eyes away from Nishijima for a brief second to say “let’s get a move on, lovebirds” and a flash of Mao’s camera are the only thing that breaks the two of them apart from an embrace best described as “if I let my grasp loosen I’m sure you and this moment will both disappear.”

Yuki watches his beloved torn apart at the seams before his eyes and all he’s allowed to do is hold what remains of them as Kousaka desperately punches something into their phone as for once Yuki is rendered speechless. Silence. They begin to mend back together. Tears begin to flow freely from his eyes as he waits for them to say something, anything. When their eyes flutter open as Yuki’s tears fall onto their face and they say with wide eyes and a shaky voice, “I-I’m…. Yuki do you mind cutting the waterworks for a second I don’t need rain for the theatrics at the given moment,” Yuki cutting them off with a firm kiss and a “don’t you EVER pull that on me again I swear to fucking god” and the second Aru regains their breath they say, “Speaking of which, I-I’m not human. Deus created me to spy on this game of his without my will or consent and the second I faced him he decided I had lived beyond my usefulness and that’s why I… I’m not. I’m not real.” And Yuki just says “Damnit Aru you’re the most real person I know, nobody else would put themself in harms way over and over for their friends and help out a terrorist who was starving in a river and… and bother to try to respect me and understand me and…” and this time Aru sits up and turns around to face Yuki and smiles at them with such fondness despite the tears in their eyes and cups his cheeks in their hands and earnestly says “Deus asked me for any proof I was a real being with any will of my own; he asked what my strongest emotion was during my existence. And do you want to know what I responded with? You; my love for you, Yuki” and with that they gently pull Yuki in for a genuine kiss; one without the haste of the threat of death. One without the aftertaste of blood. One that promises that there will be more regardless of where the future leads, so long as the two of them are together it doesn’t matter. “You really are an angel, Aru.” “I can make you regret that statement so so quickly, but thanks for the sentiment.” “Fresh from the grave dug by gods hand and you still… I stand by my sentiment.” And Aru has the audacity to laugh and that in itself makes Yuki realize just how… natural his thing for Aru is. It lacks the “is this repayment is this real is this just out of what I believe to be obligation” that he had with Yuno, who converses with Mao and Hinata intently in the corner. Aru is Aru and that in itself is enough to tug at Yuki’s heartstrings.

When they’re in the final stages of their plan to kill Deus, the remaining diary holders, Hinata, Mao, Kousaka, Nishijima, and Aru are all gathered together in the cathedral of causality with the same intent: to put an end to the game that’s costed countless lives. Aru’s hand is firmly held in Yuki’s, Yuki knowing damn well just what is probably going through their head and trying to ground Aru despite the fact his own fingers tremble and his entire body feels numb. Aru puts their free hand on Yuki’s shoulder and gazes into his teary eyes; vermillion into indigo; blood into water. And they say “just in case this should go horribly wrong, given that we’re literally facing off against fucking God of all things…” they trail off. They hesitate. Their lips tremble and their eyes burn and their throat closes in emotion but they still manage to do what they intended to: place a final kiss to Yuki’s lips despite they can barely feel it from the numbness of their lips and they can narrowly register Yuki’s hands moving to their hair and their neck and they feel as though they will collapse as Yuki wraps them in a bone crushing embrace the second they pull away. “We’ll be fine; we’ll make it and that’s a promise.” “Since when are you one for confidence?” They manage to joke despite dedicating all of their attention to memorizing Yuki’s embrace and Yuki’s voice and Yuki’s horrible taste in fashion and Yuki’s awful blue eyes and— “Since you refused to let me happily race to my own demise and I couldn’t get rid of you in the same way a stray cat follows you around; plenty of space but a fondness you can’t shake that starts to take root in your heart and—“ “Did you really just try to, with romantic intent, compare me to a stray cat” “Aru what the fuck do you want from me” Yuki laughs through his tears “I don’t know, another kiss couldn’t hurt” “if this doesn’t kill you I will” “You prommy?” “Forever and always, asshole” Aru buries their face in the crook of Yuki’s neck for one final time “Good.”

And after the killing game is out of the way they’re basically inseparable; Yuki sneaking into Hinata’s family manor, which Mao, Yuno, Nishijima, Minene, and Aru moved into thanks to Hinata not wanting to wander its extensive halls like a ghost anymore and figuring you know what why shouldn’t she let her two gfs and their lameass gay detective friend and their weird bisexual parents move into the otherwise vacant estate, nearly every night his mother is at work which is a great majority of them. So Yuki will sneak in at midnight despite Aru giving him a key nearly every night with him usually falling asleep on the couch and Aru falling asleep on top of him like an oversized cat an hour of pacing later. And finally one night Aru finally remembers what they’ve been haphazardly planning out for months and drags Yuki to the roof on a particularly clear night and they go “I know it’s not much and I plan to one up this inevitably but you always said you wanted to look at the stars with a loved one and I’d hope you’d consider me a loved one because good fucking god Yuki I’m positively enamored with you and I—“ and Yuki cuts them off with a kiss that knocks the wind out of their lungs. “Of course I consider you a loved one, you asshole,” Yuki teases tearfully and Aru pauses and blurts out “Oh so I hit this one out of the park huh” and yes they’re the Worst and more than a little rough around the edges but the way the starlight faintly illuminates their white hair into a halo and makes their constellations of scars glow just a little bit and fine maybe the way their scarlet eyes widen and soften at the sight of Yuki makes him equate them with the equivalent of Yuki’s personal guardian angel. “Enjoying the view” they taunt goodheartedly, knowing damn well Yuki’s been staring at Them for the past minute straight. “Fuck you, maybe I am gayass” and Yuki wraps his arms around them and lets his head rest on their shoulder and god maybe just maybe after Everything they’ll be ok.

[prosopopeya]

Fic Writer Questions

from @clarrisani !!!

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

on ao3 i have 28. tbf though i never transferred over a bunch of my stuff from lj back in the day.

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

176,571

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

11 listed on ao3. shout out though to house, which i wrote a bunch for but it never made it to ao3, and likely never will, and also to sherlock holmes which i wrote some fic for but more significantly, spend 2 years roleplaying. also if we want to get real nostalgic, the hits from my ffn days included such fandoms as lizzie mcguire, buffy, star trek voyager, monk, and of course, labyrinth.

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Inevitable Homoeroticism in Spanish Romantic Heroes: my dean is a hispanist, grad school au. written bc at the time i was reading so many college aus and going you know what. you know what this fandom needs. and also i need therapy and instead i will write this fic.

i’m so glad it was and still is well received, and until this year’s dcbb, i thought i’d never write something as personally significant as this ever again. i’m happy to be adding something else to that list shortly (and hope it’s as well liked!).

as a sidenote, this fic was requested by and heavily cheerleaded by a friend of mine who has since passed away, and i will always think of jaymee when i think of this fic.

Like Real People Do: my impulse-written, kneejerk reaction to cas’s confession in 15x18. i wanted cas to have a chance to process his feelings separate from dean and also i wanted to push back on the notion that he was happy just saying it bc maybe after all he wants dean to love him back. it’s fitting that it comes after the grad school au in this list bc it was my return to fandom. also a rare example of me writing cas pov. (soon to not be so rare.)

Flying in Circles Inside a Jar: a s5 era fic where dean and cas get together in a roundabout way. god this was written so long ago and there are parts of it i want to change, but overall i’m still proud of a lot of moments in this fic. some good dialogue in here.

Command Me to Be Well: my angstier entry into my s15 fix-its. dean decides that he will let him and cas have sex but they can’t have feelings about it. this got way more popular than i thought it would, and it took me forever to write it, but it was definitely proof to me that i could come back to writing bc i had to edit this fic a bunch, and i was always horrible at editing. but i have better meds now yay!

fourth place is technically the codas to the grad school au, which also have some good moments but also the last coda i wrote makes me cry when i think about it still. but bc it’s part of the same universe i’m going to add:

Some Boys are Sleeping Alone: another early days fic ft. dean coming to terms with his sexuality and how it was affected by his father among other things throughout his life. this has essentially become the backbone to my conception of dean’s sexuality in canon. it ends sad! plot twist for me these days.

what i love about this list, looking at it now, is that it’s a healthy mix of my old stuff and my new stuff, and overall represents well my themes of dean’s bisexual journey and several examples of cas standing up for himself, though s4/s5 cas was just like that.

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

i didn’t back in the day so much bc, you know, grad school, i was busy. i’ve been trying to since i got back into writing but have been staring at my inbox of things i need to reply to for like three months. i will do it at some point!

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

god i don’t know. i wrote so much angstier stuff back in the day. i don’t really want to re-peruse all the random stuff on my ao3 but here’s one that sticks out to me even still: the au that has quinn fabray from glee in a sham marriage with jason mcconnell from bare: a pop opera and no one is happy. no one asked for this fic but i had many feelings about it.

7) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

these days most of my fics end happy, but the one that still has me tear up at the end is the fluff entry i wrote for dean’s birthday: through autumn’s advancing. it’s jody that always gets me. jody hugging and murmuring a goodbye to dean, and then dean watching as she hugs and whispers something to cas. i don’t know what she’s saying but her embracing cas just gets me every time.

8) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

oh boy. back in the day, i would write just about anything anyone asked of me, and i prided myself on selling the wildest concepts imaginable. my lj contains a multitude of shames, but on ao3 probably the wildest is supernatural/my little pony: friendship is magic. here’s another example of me writing cas as he bonds with fluttershy.

9) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

i don’t... think so?

10) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

boy do i! uh the naked kind?? idk my approach to sex scenes is to try to capture realism but in the emotional sense. usually there’s a fun amount of dialogue. some amount of significance beyond just the act itself. i think my big thing is still representing the characters as themselves, in character.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i’m aware of.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

i don’t think so?!

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

this dcbb is essentially being like executive produced by @marbleflan. but there may be a more explicitly co-written fic coming up. :) :) :)

14) What’s your all time favorite ship?

dean/cas, hands down. nothing will ever compare to the absolute insanity of the way they happened in this television show.

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

i started a dean/benny/cas purgatory fic that i want to get back to one day... also my fic with ghost!kevin teaming up with human blood!crowley and human!cas.

16) What are your writing strengths?

i’d like to think it’s capturing the feel of the character and staying ic. that’s my #1 goal always and the best comment i could ever receive. i like my dialogue too.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

plot. i can’t plot to save my life. also editing. also inventing any original character is an absolute blindspot of mine.

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

well i mean. i have. done that. my bilingual experience involves some weaving in and out of a language in conversation, usually mid-sentence or once you hit a word you either can’t think of in one language or feels better in another. or filler words/phrases like well, or let’s go.

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

gosh. probably lizzie mcguire.

20) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

the grad school au will always hold a special place in my heart. but i also really love this one i wrote that was a love letter to the virginia state fair, which i went to like every year when i was a kid and still hold a lot of nostalgia and love for in my heart. i really want to retool that one. there are some things i want to change about it, you know, almost ten years later.

@ anyone who wants to do this thing!!!!!!!

[honesthammie]

4th prompt part 2

The silence was appreciated as your mind wrapped up today's event. You had met your soulmate in a goddess of a woman. Everything you had discovered so far was perfect. You watched as she pulled a metal disk and metal stick from her pockets. The metal stick made a strange buzzing sound and glowed a faint orange at the tip as she hovered over the disk.

"What are you doing?" You asked after watching her in curiosity for a few moments. You would've let her continue as her face was quite the sight. Her eyes were sparkling with intent and her nose had the most adorable scrunch.

She stopped for a moment as you spoke as if thinking on what to say before continuing. "I'm scanning for any spider eggs in the building so we can take them with the other spiders to a planet of their own. A planet without civilisation but full to the brim with creatures they can eat. I think, the fam got them all. No, fam still doesn't seem right. The team does sound better!"

"A planet? What, are you some kind of alien?"

"Yes. Would that be a problem?" She asked. From the way her eyes sparkled, I believed her. Great, no wonder why she seemed so ethereal! So when I say, she's out of this world, it'd be a fact and not a flirtatious comment! For fuck sake, that's one of my best lines as well! Maybe I could use it when the time is right?

"Nope. After the discoveries of my life recently, that's actually the most believable thing. Please don't ask yet. However, those spider babies trust me. You aren't going to get them to listen without me. I spent at least a full 5 hours with them, they trust me more than you. Come on little Miss Sunshine, hop to it, the spiders won't wait forever." I spoke with confidence. I knew she knew, she needed me. That's why she followed me. "I'm (y/n) by the way"

"Great name! Love that name, was always one of my favourites. I've always fancied myself as a (y/n) but the faces never seem to fit it. I'm normally a John but I can't be now I'm a woman. Why don't you give me an alias for when I'm undercover?"

"Hmmm. I quite liked the name Alice and you certainly suit that name. Is there a name people call you when you aren't undercover. What do family call you?"

"Alice. I love that! I'm keeping Smith. Alice Smith. Perfect! Knew you'd be the one to help me. People tend to call me the Doctor. So do I for some reason. Wish I knew why."

This cute blonde alien was more mysterious the more we talked. She told me of how her ship goes in time as well as in space. She told me of the time of when she met Robin Hood with an older face and a companion named Clara. All this talk and I wasn't bothered once by it. I could listen and watch her all day as she talks about adventures she's been on. She puts all the theatrics on and waves her arms about with so much passion and her eyes show her emotions so clearly. But I also saw age. If she's older than she looks, just how old is she? Not that it bothers me, it's just, if she's like hundreds of years old, she's probably had other lovers and I don't know if plain old me can compete with that.

Sooner than we realised, we came towards a blue Police box. She clicked her fingers and waltzed right in. This must be her TARDIS. I walked inside with awe. The ship was beautiful inside. Like a gem hidden as an ore. The golden and blue lights perfectly reflected her personality.

"It's fucking massive Sunshine! Ya didn't warn me about walking into a football field! No wonder why thousands of spiders seemed no problem! Fucking hell!" I stated as my eyes scanned the room in front of me. Then I felt a little tug on my right trouser leg. I looked down and saw a little spider wanting my attention. I bent down and picked him up. He seemed happy to be held like that so I kept him in that position as I wondered towards the Doctor.

I had so many questions I wanted to know and I'm sure she has too. But now was not the time for that. We needed to get these spiders to their new home. I continued to watch the Doctor as she danced around something she called a console. She was pressing buttons and pulling levers and many more things until the ship made a strange wheezing noise and I was thrown off my feet. Thankfully I was caught by someone. I looked up and saw an oldish man.

"Hello Love! I can tell this your first time here. We all fell down when she first did that with us. You learn to find something to grab onto. I'm Graham by the way." Graham spoke gently but loudly over the noise of the ship. I couldn't help but giggle, my grandad used to call me Love too.

Then as quick as the ship started, it came to a gentle stop. I looked around and notice the same 2 people from earlier. The girl was smiling and laughing to something the boy mentioned. They must be old friends. I then noticed the Doctor walk towards the doors and open them just enough for her to check outside.

"Right (n/n). I'm calling you that as we are friends now. Go on, it's your first new planet and you care about these spiders more than we do so I think it's best if you check everything it perfect for them!" The Doctor spoke with excitement. She even clapped her hands for a moment, obviously not being able to control the surge of energy running through her.

I held the spider in my arms and the doors opened in front of me. I closed my eyes for a moment as the light blinded me temporarily. I could feel the warmth of a sun and the cool breeze the gently whipped past your face giving you the perfect cooling needed. The planet smelled sweet yet sour like Toxic waste sweets. I could hear many creatures making strange noises, some were doing a high pitched growl and some others were doing deep scream. Then there were nicer sounds like birds tweeting but in a lower key and something sounded like a piano, specifically an old ragtime piano.

I slowly opened my eyes and noticed the silver sky and its 4 suns in each direction. I noticed that the high pitched growl was from a small flying frog like creature and the deep scream was from a big rabbit- horse like creature that was just chewing the purple leaves off the metal looking trees. The bird like sound belonged to a small Robin like creature, but instead of a red chest it was a beautiful blue hue and it had silver eyes that sparkled just right. The Ragtime piano sound belonged to a dog-raccoon like creature that scampered away with its mouth full of the fallen berries that the rabbit-horse dropped from the leaves. The grass beneath was as black as ink and the pond to the right of me was a strange red colour.

"Well what do ya think? I personally think it's perfect but you seem to know these arachnids better than me so, I could be wrong, although, I'm not often" The Doctor spoke with eagerness. I noticed her looking at me as I took in the world around me. Why does this feel all too familiar to me? Why do I like the escapism of Earth? Why is this so, freeing?

I took a deep breath in. "Its perfect Doc. The spiders will love it here! They'll adapt pretty quickly I believe. The creatures are big enough to satisfy them. Although the sounds are a little off putting." I put the spider in my arms in the oddly cotton soft grass and watched as the thousands of others followed in its footsteps. Some carried the baby spiders and others carried the eggs. They had already found a cave to lay the eggs and started weaving some webs within 10 minutes.

Once I was happy with everything, I said my goodbyes and entered the strange ship once more. I could feel fresh tears sting my eyes like tiny hot needles. I get so attached so quickly and I noticed the string warm up and I checked on my soulmate, she was looking at me with an all too familiar look, the look of complete adoration. So the string tells me when her love for me evolves until we kiss? I mean, that's when it disappears for everyone else.

"This was great Sunshine! I had a ride of a lifetime, I really did. So I guess, you can drop me off home, I'm probably not wanted and I don't wanna ruin your team dynamic here."

"Why on Earth would you think that? I was actually wondering if you'd like to join us. Those spiders trusted you and having someone like you would really make the adventures more thrilling. Besides, I really like you and there's something special about you and I can't place my finger on it. I don't like not knowing things. If I drop these off home for a bit, would you mind if I ran some tests on you?"

"Really? Sure. I don't mind. I actually wanna know aswell. You see, I know what's special but I don't want to tell you in front of the others, its a bit embarrassing." I asked whilst blushing. She nodded her head and set the TARDIS coordinates to Sheffield. The Doctor promised she'd be back in a week and set the TARDIS to float in our solar system whilst she got to work on me.

We walked into what I can assume is some sort of med Bay. The walk had conversations about the last planet and how we thought the spiders would adjust. Eventually she sat me down on a white bed.

"So, you said you knew why you were special. I don't like cliffhangers so I'll give you a custard cream if you tell me." She said as she got a paper document and waited for me to speak.

"I don't know how or why but have you ever heard of the red string of fate story?" I asked, wondering how to word this without sounding weird. She nodded her head in understanding. "Well, when I turned 16, I could see everyone's red strings. The world was covered in red. I was confused at first until I read that story."

"Hmm. That is interesting because all stories have some truth to them. Some are exaggerated and some are exactly as said. Well that story is a good example of that. Thousands of years ago, there were 2 species of human, homo sapiens and homo spectrians. Spectrians were low on numbers in population as they'd spend almost all their life playing match maker. You'd know Spectrians as Cupids. However when battles and wars happened, Cupids were out of a job as everyone had to focus on the country and not themselves. This is where arranged marriages started happening and Cupids were becoming depressed. Eventually the Cupids decided to blend in with the humans and became virtually extinct. You might be the only Cupid left in the universe, other than Valentine himself." She explained it so well.

"Can Cupids see their own string?" I asked. She paused for a moment. Her eyes flickered between heartbroken and hopeful. I felt the string flicker between cold and toasty warm just like her eyes.

"No. Cupids weren't supposed to have soulmates. But I guess you are technically half human so maybe that makes sense. Do you know who your soulmate is?"

"She's amazing. She's like a Goddess. When I first saw her I immediately thought, She's too fucking perfect for someone like me. She incredibly smart too but, can be oblivious. I mean, I only met her a few hours ago and I'm fucking smitten with her. She reminds me of sunshines and rainbows. I'm just waiting for her to make a move." I told her. She looked at me for a moment, processing this new information. She smirked for a moment once she figured it out.

"Well my soulmate had me wrapped around her finger the second she jumped in front of a spider to save her life. A bold move like that normally makes me mad but, she did it so well. I haven't known her long but I can see me being by her side forever, travelling the stars. She reminds me of those stars actually. The way she sparkles in the light. I love you (y/n) with both of my hearts." She spoke softly as we slowly leaned in. When she finished, she planted her soft lips on mine and the red string was gone. Not that I noticed until an hour later when we picked the team up and held hands to announce our relationship.

Maybe dating a sunshine is exactly who I needed.

[foxgloveinspace]

Andrew Minyard is ADHD:

I said I would only really write this if people were interested, but I lied, lol. WAIT One person liked the og post while I was typing this, so there's interest and it’s justified! Lol.

Ok, I’ve seen other posts talking about this, but some of them used some things that I didn’t agree with, so I’m gonna do my own.

I wanna set the preface of, if you see Andrew as ADHD, awesome! If you don’t, that's great too! In reality, this is all speculation, and self projecting, and my desire for actually good representation of ADHD characters that are not stereotypical, so if you see Andrew as something different, that is completely and totally a-okay.

-ADHD has three types, inattentive (formally known as ADD), hyperactive (previously just ADHD) and combined type. Some people prefer calling it Executive Function Disorder (EFD), because Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder describes how it affects people around ADHDers, more than it affects ADHDers. For the sake of this, I’m going to refer to it as ADHD, because it’s more commonly known, and it’s what I call it for myself. I also acknowledge that according to the timeline, Andrew would probably be diagnosed with ADD (if he ever got diagnosed, that is, which I don’t know if he would or not). Please keep all this information in mind.

Things that would be explained if Andrew was ADHD:

Instead of reason’s I think Andrew is adhd in canon, I mostly have thing’s I think could be explained if he was:

-Why he ‘hates’ exy:

This is a big reason in my mind, he is very insistent he doesn’t like exy and I can explain why he actually doesn’t with him being ADHD.

He started playing in juvie, as something to do, it’s a good way to completely clear his mind and concentrate on something that he is actually good at, which is instant gratification, it's something ADHDer’s experience a lot. It’s one of the main reasons ADHDer’s love video games (if your curious there are videos on youtube explaining this. I am ADHD and this is already overwhelming enough for me than trying to explain this as well).

Andrew only tries at exy when he is in the goal, otherwise he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it. He doesn’t care about stats of other teams, or watching other peoples games, it’s only interesting to him when he’s in the goal or when other people make bets/dares with him; “can you shut down the goal?” “pick a number” playing while coming down from his meds for a long period of time, things like that. Making it interesting, keeping himself engaged with it, is a big thing for him. Again, instant gratification. And also an explanation for why outside of the court, when people try to talk to him about the sport, he doesn’t care, he ‘hates’ it. Cause he does. He hates talking about, that doesn’t interest him. It’s boring and not what gives his brain satisfaction within the sport itself.

-Spending habits (TW: Not sure how to tag this tbh, but Andrew being prepared to die? I’ll put it in double parentheses, just incase):

((While I am of the firm belief that the number one reason that Andrew bought the first car is cause he completely wasn't expecting to live through the crash and then had no idea what to do with that amount of money when he wasn't expecting to live)), ADHD would also explain why he buys such expensive stuff. Again, it's instant gratification. It's like trying to tell yourself to wait for something you really want as an award. What's the point when you can have it now? He goes out and buys the most expensive cars he can cause it scratches that itch in his brain.

- Subcategory to spending, Daredevil:

It could also have to do with going fast. Most 'daredevils' are actually ADHDers. Going fast and doing daring things triggers chemicals in our brains, same as hyperfixations and instant gratification. In fact, that could also be a reason for sparing with Renee as well.

-Zoning out:

Ask any ADHDer about maladaptive daydreaming, and dissociating. Andrew has been known in canon to lose himself in thought a lot, and stare out in space for extended periods of time. This is very common with ADHD, and while it’s a small thing, it’s something I think about quite a bit, and so I included it.

-Loud Music:

Another way to drown out your own thoughts is to listen to music, and a lot of ADHDers like loud music. Andrew likes loud music while driving fast. This is very ADHD to me.

-His major:

I think this is something else that can be explained with ADHD, as a hyperfixation. Its not something he wants to do with his life, but it's something his brain lets him concentrate on, and therefore, something to do with his time in college, something he doesn't necessarily want to do, and is doing it out of necessity.

-His memory:

Something about adhd is that it is almost always paired with a different thing. Autism and dyslexia are the two most common. So his perfect memory would be something else neurodivergent that could be paired with his ADHD.

-Attachment issues/RSD:

Andrew keeps everyone at arm's length, and while this can be a part of his past, it can also be combined with RSD, or Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. Which can mean any sort of negative attitude towards you can send you into a spiral. So Aaron not being understanding of their deal/promise and pushing him away would be devastating to him on a whole other level, one that feels right for how he acts in canon. But on the other hand he can't let go of Aaron because he is already attached to him. 

Again with Nickey, he's someone that's been in his life for so long it would be devastating for him to just up and leave, especially to an eighteen year old. He would never tell him this, because of RSD, and if Nickey decided to leave despite that, it would have been very devastating to him and Nickey would have never been allowed back into his life, so that would be the number one reason for Andrew to get Nickey into college with him.

ADHDers are also very quick to get attached to people, something we see with Andrew is that once he has decided someone is 'his' he is unshakable in his loyalty.

I hate going into it, but that would be another reason for how he is with Cass, why he is so desperate to stay, despite what is happening in the back ground.

-Emotions:

I know Andrew has reasons for being emotionally distant, but when he feels emotions in canon, anger, he is quick to it, and feels it fully to the point he can't control it. It's very common in ADHD to have no control over how you react to your emotions unless you spend a lot of time doing it, like Andrew has.

-Long Weird Conversations:

The way he talks to Renee, and then Neil, where they jump around from subject to subject, with no discernable connection to the subjects. Like, that's stereotypical ADHD, but one that actually ADHDers relate to. 

-Sensory things:

Things in canon that Andrew does/likes that scream sensory issues or stimming:

-Stimming:

Likes extreme foods (sweet and spicy things).

Has comfort objects (arm bands, while I know they were to hide his scars, I feel like the fact that they don't bug him even in extreme weather is a major factor in them being a weighted stim for him).

Smoking (I don't know how to describe how this is a stim for Andrew, but it is?).

-Sensory Issues (I know most of these have canon reasons, but I wanna say they could be heightened by ADHD, so keep that in mind):

Not eating around other people/eating in small bites. (Hating food textures is a common thing for ADHDer’s).

Being a light sleeper/taking forever to fall asleep. (Brain won't shut off/be quiet).

Wanting a routine but simultaneously hating it. (His love/hate relationship with exy. He never complains about getting up for practice, that Neil mentions, but is constantly hating how repetitive it is. Going to Eden's almost every Friday, where it's the same place but different every time without being too different.)

That's all that I can think of right now. I tried to not mention anything that happened while Andrew was on medication, so the whole 'keep my attention' doesn't really count in my opinion.

Thank you for reading, and maybe I might come back to this and add more someday, but for now it's finished.

In conclusion: Andrew being ADHD makes a lot of sense within canon.