#i got some marker on them so it's not terribly neat but ill have to use this method again sometime

[ghostfiish]

I did a panel redraw game on the Sleepless Domain discord server!! This was a really fun exercise and a good challenge to myself :)

Go read the comic if you like magical girl stuff (especially since this probably counts as some spoilers even without much context here lol)

I included closeups of the individual panels as well since the entire page isn't quite clear in the photo I took. There's some things I might wanna fix later for my own satisfaction but I'm happy with it!

[pippki-writes]

An Ill-Fitting Name: Snippet 19

Snippet 1; Snippets 2 & 3; Snippet 4; Snippet 5; Snippet 6; Snippet 7; Snippet 8; Snippet 9; Snippet 10; Snippet 11; Snippet 12; Snippet 13; Snippet 14; Snippet 15; Snippet 16; Snippet 17; Snippet 18

Word Count: ~1.1k

Faoust belongs to @thebiggestnerd - she writes him; Isaiah and Cat here are mine.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Isaiah waits until he’s very certain that he’s finally heading in the right direction this time, the mile marker numbers counting upward as he heads east, before allowing his mind to wander. Of all the things Isaiah could think about, he finds his mind drawn to the texts Faoust sent the night he got to his family home, before he slipped in to see his mother. Isaiah hadn’t mentioned he was going out of town—why would he? They were back to the way things had been before Chaos intervened, living their own lives that intersected only when they were in the mood for rough sex and violence. Of course Faoust would finally want to get together after that entire shitshow once Isaiah was not only out of town, but on the cusp of trying to figure out what the fuck he wanted out of coming all this way to see the awful bitch of a mother he’d tried to leave forever behind.

Faoust: “Hey. Wanna go out?”

Isaiah: “can’t. I’m in Ohio right now”

Faoust: “the fuck you doing in ohio?”

Isaiah: “vvvvvvvisiting…family”

Faoust: "oh boy. Sounds....fun? It doesn't sound fun. It sounds terrible"

Isaiah: “terrible is the correct answer”

Faoust: "I'm sorry. You need any backup, just text me and I'll be there"

Isaiah: “hah, I mean I can easily kill every last one of them if I need to with one hand behind my back”

Faoust: "I meant emotionally"

Emotionally. Isaiah hadn’t expected that offer at all. This shit was his alone to come contend with, to try to make sense of, to wade through a tangled mess of feelings he didn’t even know how to begin to put into words. He…he never would have thought Faoust would care how he was doing emotionally. Would want to help him be ok.

He doesn’t know what to do with that.

Cat’s wild fears were misplaced—Isaiah had only been lost, commonly lost, not permanently and eternally, and he makes it home around mid afternoon. She hears the familiar low rumble of the truck as Isaiah brings it as close as he can through the scattering of trees, and she peeks out the windows to make sure, really sure that it’s him and he’s there, breathing a sigh of relief when she can see him slipping out of the truck.

Isaiah is surprised to be caught in a one-armed hug when he comes through the door, and next thing he knows Cat has held him out in front of her, squeezing his shoulder.

“You are alright?” she asks urgently.

Isaiah laughs a little and shakes his head. “Of course I am, I mean alright enough. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Cat takes her hand back to pace away from him, chewing on her nail. “The bastard god I am beholden to. He visited while you were away…”

This pulls Isaiah out of any self-reverie he may have been tempted towards ruminating in after being asked if he was alright. His features flash indignant. “What? Here?? Through my wards? Shit.” He puts a hand back to the frame of the door, feeling along the wards. “Are they not good enough…? Maybe I should ask Faoust—“

“It’s not…Your magic is..it’s nothing, to gods who obey whatever rules they like…”

Isaiah thinks for a moment before shaking his head. “No, no that’s—I’m not accepting that answer.”

Isaiah texts Faoust, mouth still creased in a frown as his thumbs punch across the screen.

Isaiah: “back in town. Hey do you know anything about protection from gods? It’s for Cat”

Isaiah runs a hand through his hair, frustrated and refusing to accept the idea that for all his magic there might be nothing he can do. “There’s got to be something. At the very least this bastard needs to stay the hell out of our house.”

Isaiah glances back down as his phone buzzes.

Faoust: "oof. Wish I did. I've got a god I need protecting from"

Isaiah: “ah. Chaos isn’t done with you?”

Faoust: "it told me I belong to it. I'm scared of what that might mean"

Isaiah is a little surprised at Faoust admitting to being afraid. To needing protection. And that his own reaction is to wish that there were something he could do to help protect him.

Faoust: "at any rate, I need to do more research on gods.”

Isaiah: “yeah. Chaos was pretty goddamn unsettling, by the way. I am not a fan. Let me know if I can help”

Faoust: "will do"

Faoust: "also, glad you're back"

Isaiah: “ ;) me too”

Isaiah: “Ohio sucks”

Faoust: "nothing good in Ohio. Only one good thing came from ohio"

Isaiah: “astronauts?”

Faoust: "you, dumbass"

Isaiah: “I know ;) I just wanted to see you say it”

Faoust: ":p"

Isaiah grins at his phone. Something nice about getting something as simple as a little face icon out of someone like Faoust. Isaiah is still not sure how to put into words all the strange things he’s feeling, but he does know that this? Talking to Faoust? He likes this. Isaiah agrees to come over to help research, to comb through whatever tomes Faoust has that might help them, and to strain the integrity of Faoust’s bed frame as much as possible.

They spend the night researching until they can’t keep their eyes open. They spend the morning doing far more than researching, before fruitlessly hitting the books again. Eventually Isaiah returns home for the day, no wiser on anything he can do to help Cat, but he isn’t discouraged. They’re wicked and vicious and clever, the two of them together, and surely eventually they’ll find something.

* * *

A story comes with a neat and even bow, a happily or unhappily ever after wrapped up after enough words have come.

I would like to tell you Isaiah gets a happily ever after. I would like to tell you that seeing his mother for the last time brought him some sense of closure. That he felt like he had made the right decision, that there even was a right decision to be made.

I would like to tell you that in spite of the life he lives, and has lived, that he finds sometimes a space to allow himself soft, kind things. That he realizes deep in his subconscious, that he has been rejecting the idea of himself as being worthy of genuine affection. That he learns that he, too, can be loved.

I would like to say that in spite of the machinations of gods beyond his understanding, that Isaiah finds a way to keep the bastard out, to carve out a space for Cat that is safe and where nothing is lost.

But you and I both know that life is never so neat as all that.

- BREAK THOUGHTS -

[mystery-deer]

Sick

Raymond hadn’t wanted to go into work that morning. He rarely felt that way as his job was a very important part of his life that he took incredibly seriously. However, that particular morning he had been awakened by his husband retching in the bathroom. He had mistaken him for a burglar and kicked down the door shouting that he was an officer which had led to a stressful situation for them both. 

“I’m sorry.” Kevin was silent as Raymond apologized for the fifth time that day and Raymond geared up for another speech about mistakes and forgiveness and eternal love when Kevin pointed to his throat and made a slicing motion. “You wish I were dead?” “Mrrr.” Kevin replied unhelpfully, pushing his face into his pillow. “Rymmnd.” “Kevin just- oh, your throat is sore?” Kevin offered him a slow cap that Raymond thought was uncalled for. “I’m staying with you. You can’t properly communicate. What if you need something? What if you fall and can’t get up?” “Mmmn.” “Stop trying to speak!” His phone pinged and it was a text from Kevin. He was surprised as he hadn’t seen his husband reach for his phone or type anything and yet he was staring at him with the eyes of a man considering murder.

Kevin Cozner PHD: I am still able bodied Raymond. Go to work, you’re needed.

“Work isn’t my only obligation.” Furious texting from Kevin, his nails typing sharply away at his phone. “Kevin you’re not going to change my mind on this.”

Twenty minutes and forty eloquently worded and biting messages later Raymond was in his car muttering to himself as Kevin waved from their bedroom window looking god awful but smug as hell. _____________ “Captain, what’s up with you? You’ve been super weird all day.” Raymond didn’t look up at Peralta, instead continuing to alternate between doing paper work and searching multiple sites for instructions on how to win a text argument and how to convince someone they need help. “Captain? Cap-i-tan? Cap-u-tan? C-dog? C-” “I don’t believe my acting ‘super weird’ is any of your business Peralta.” “But every time you’re like this you kind of bring down the mood, you know?” “I’m sorry, am I 'cramping your style’? Am I not being fun enough for you? This is a precinct not some hooligan gaff about.” “…I mean isn’t a precinct teechnically-” “Leave.” “Ok ok ok cool cool cool cool.” Peralta nodded his head vigorously and left the office walking backwards. What an odd and irritating man. Sometimes he wished he had someone around to help him control Peralta’s antics.

He went back to work for a full five minutes before the thought circled round again. Peralata. That’s what he needed. He got up immediately to seek the man out and found him in the break room with Amy and Gina (disappointing as they were all supposed to be working.) “Heeeey Captain.” Amy said in a high pitched voice, her eyes overcompensatingly wide. So they were gossiping, probably about him and his mood. “I know you are all wondering about the source of my odd mood today.” “Whaaaat, no?” Peralta said, his statement tilting upwards into a question. They were all so terrible at lying. “You gonna spill the beans Captain?” Gina asked in an excited monotone (something he hadn’t thought possible until Gina had spent over an hour in his office one day demonstrating how she has converted every known emotion into monotone)

“My husband Kevin is home today as he is very sick. No, he doesn’t have a terminal illness he has the flu or something similar.” He added after seeing the looks on all their faces. He was touched they cared so transparently. “I would like someone from the precinct to go check up on him, just for a bit. Please don’t tell him I sent you, he’d be incredibly embarrassed.”

“I could-” Gina started but Holt quickly shot her down. Kevin and her seemed to get along well and he wouldn’t be annoyed enough by her presence. “I need you here today Gina. There are a startling number of tasks that require your…skills.” Gina nodded sagely and floated back over to her desk, voguing as she spun her chair in a circle. Holt watched her as Santiago suggested Terry or Boyle as Terry was amazing at mothering and Boyle could probably cook a simple soup. Raymond scoffed. “We all know that Boyle would NOT cook a simple soup. He doesn’t know the meaning. He’d cook something with a tongue or a tentacle in it that wouldn’t help with Kevin’s condition. I did ask Sargent Jeffords if he’d be up to the task but he politely informed me that he had his hands full with…those two.” He gestured towards Hitchcock and Scully who were at that moment trying to eat a whole pizza they’d rolled up and split in half. “They’ve been like that all day.” And they’d gotten the idea from him. “So…I suppose…” He tried to sound reluctant as he glanced at Peralta who was bursting at the seams.

“I can go Captain! I’m not busy at all!” He chirped. Raymond made an assenting but displeased noise. “Is that a yes? I’ll assume it is! Don’t worry captain this’ll be the best decision you never made!” And he was off, practically scrambling towards the elevator. He was nearly back in his office when Santiago stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “Captain, may I go with him? He’ll cause more harm than good alone and we’re partners and-” He had stopped listening to her passionate plea to think. He had originally intended to pile a tedious amount of paperwork on her but he was rethinking that now. Santiago was ordinarily an extremely competent detective, one of the best. However when she was around him and his husband something happened to frazzle her, and a frazzled Santiago paired with an ordinary Peralta could spell the exact kind of disaster he needed. “You may go Santiago.” Her eyes went wide and she began to thank him profusely. He pointed to the elevator. “Peralta will leave you if you don’t hurry.” And just like that she was gone.

He waited until he was in the privacy of his office to chuckle darkly to himself. _______________________________ It took only fifteen minutes for the texts to come pouring in.

Kevin: Why are your detectives here? Did you send them? I told you I’m fine.

Kevin: Peralta has broken one of our cups and cut himself trying to clean the mess.

Kevin: Santiago keeps trying to make me more comfortable. I’m laying in a pit of pillows, I think she brought her own.

Kevin: Raymond.

Kevin: Peralta spilled a cup of tea on me, it was scalding. I’ve been assaulted. Are you feeling proud, Raymond?

Kevin: Santiago won’t stop apologizing.

Kevin: Raymond Kevin: Raymond Kevin: Raymnd

Voicemail from Detective Peralta: Hey Cap-u-tan everything’s greeeaat um…(Amy can be heard wailing in a faraway room) so Kevin locked himself in your bedroom and won’t come out so we’ve kind of run out of ideas. We’re uh, not giving up but he can’t really respond so we dunno if he’s passed out, sleeping, or ignoring us. So maybe give us his number? He’s been texting a lot. Amy tried to take his phone to get him to relax but he’s like suuper tall. Anyways…everything’s great!

Kevin: Raymond I need you.

He got his coat. ________________ “I see everything is indeed "great” just as you said.“ Raymond said sarcastically as he entered his home to find it looking like a tornado had ran through it. There was broken glass and blood on the counter and sink, Kevin’s favorite chair had a large spot of liquid splattered across it and there were piles of papers on the floor. Raymond had picked two up, they were both in Kevin’s writing. One said "GO AWAY.” In thick black marker underlined thrice and the other said “Santiago if you attempt to prevent me from talking to my husband it will be the last the thing you do. I am feverish and you are so terrifyingly small.” In neat script. Raymond almost smiled.

“That’ll be enough you two. I’ll be home for the rest of the day as you clearly cannot be trusted to look after Kevin’s well being for even a short amount of time. Go back to work.” After a chorus of 'sorry captain’ Peralta and Santiago left, arguing under their breath. Raymond needed to thank them somehow, send them a fruit basket. He quickly made the journey upstairs and knocked on their bedroom door. “Kevin? It’s me.” He waited for a single moment before taking out the mini lock picking set he’d borrowed from Gina (why she had such a thing he had no idea) and opening the door himself. “Kevin?” He was slightly panicked that his husband had passed out as Peralta suggested but he found him in bed sleeping, one arm where Raymond would usually sleep and the other clutching a phone close to his chest. Raymond breathed a sigh of relief and went into their bathroom to wash his hands before taking the phone from Kevin and placing it on their nightstand. His husband opened his eyes as if panicked but calmed immediately at the sight of Raymond’s face. “Mm.” He hummed and Raymond could tell there was no intention to speak behind it. “Are you alright?” Kevin nodded and yawned, looking ready to sit up. “No, no, I’m here now. What can I get you?” Kevin fetched his phone.

Kevin Cozner PHD: Tea would be much appreciated. Kevin Cozner PHD: However, I don’t appreciate you siccing your goons out on me.

“I’m sorry Kevin. I just wanted to make sure you were taken care of. And I admit I was a bit hurt that you didn’t want for me to stay with you…I didn’t know they’d be so totally ineffective.”

Kevin Cozner PHD: I didn’t want you to stay with me because I didn’t think you’d like it and I didn’t feel I needed it. Your work is very important to you and I didn’t want to confine you here for no reason. If I really felt I needed you I would have called you back, the same way I did just now to clear those animals out of our house.

He was typing slowly, not rushed, wanting to get the words right. Raymond didn’t want to interrupt but he had to comment. “Even if work is important to me it’s not as important as you, Kevin.” Kevin smiled and Raymond was glad he said it.

Kevin Cozner PHD: Next time let’s talk about this. We can both get caught up in the competition, in who can hold out in a painful situation the longest. Sometimes we forget that we can just, talk. It’s easy to do when things are fine but we both handle stressful situations by retreating into ourselves, by shutting people out. We need to be there for each other and accept each other’s help. I know you love me Raymond and I love you the same but I can’t help but think you shouldn’t have to feel that your only option to get me to seek help from you is sending two bumbling detectives to destroy our house. And I shouldn’t have to feel that my being sick is an inconvenience to you. We need to communicate more, understand?

Raymond nodded slowly while reading and at the end he wrapped Kevin in a hug despite his sickly protests. When he let go he said “your fever is way too high, you’re burning up.” Kevin nods. “You’re burning up and you still wrote all that so eloquently?” Another nod. “Kevin Cozner, I think I may be in love with you.” Kevin raised one eyebrow and texted him again.

Kevin Cozner PHD: Then as your first act of love fetch me tea, please.

Raymond nodded and first ran a washcloth under cold water to put on Kevin’s forehead. His husband accepted it without complaint, smiling softly. Raymond watched him for a minute before turning the lights to dim and heading downstairs to make his favorite tea.