#i no longer know

[reborrowing]

a strange appearance, part six

Stranger Swap Masterpost | ao3 First | Prev | Next

word count: ~2900 cws: fear, angst, hunger, reference to past abuse, reference to last chapter's mention of human-ish experimentation (nothing new)

Phoebe

Phoebe yelped as the ground slipped out from underneath her without warning. Or, table, as it were. She reached the floor sooner than she should have, and her leg banged against the edge of the coffee table and stayed there. She caught her breath and sat up and was briefly confused by what she saw. Her apartment, the front room, exactly as it had been the night before.

“Oww,” she said loudly, but the shock was probably worse than the impact.

It was over.

She rubbed at the fresh sore spot on the back of her head and briefly considered how hard she’d hit it. None of the morning was possible and it would be far from the first time Phoebe had fallen asleep in front of a screen instead of in her bed. Again, the idea presented itself: the whole thing had been an unwanted dream.

But she looked down (down, thank god!) to the coffee table and there was her phone, still open to an obscure journal article. And there was the sheet scrap she’d tied around herself like the world's tiniest toga. Dull pain all over assured her that she’d done more than lay around on the couch. She caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye as something darted out from underneath a sweatshirt left empty on the couch.

Val, she realized.

She didn’t have time yet to marvel. They scrambled across the couch cushion much faster than she’d expected, and then kept going. She only got a glance at their face, but they were obviously panicking again. They clawed their way up the back of the couch frantically, but had nowhere back there to go but a jump to the hard floor on the other side.

“Woah, woah, stop! Hey!” she cried.

Phoebe lurched unsteadily to catch them before they could fall. They flailed for a second, trying to find a new handhold in the upholstery, then fell limp against her grasping fingers. She cupped her other hand around them and pulled them away from the couch.

It went without saying, but they were so small. It was almost easier to understand the scale looking at them than what she’d already gone through this morning. Val didn’t even fill up her palm. How many things their size had she lost, she wondered, running a finger along the length of their stringy tail. It twitched as she reached the end, tickling her with its trail of fluff, and then jerked away to curl up around Val’s leg. She took a sharp breath.

How many things their size had she broken?

She realized that Val definitely hadn’t meant to hurt her earlier because would be all too easy to accidentally hurt them now. A sudden twitch would send them to the floor, a tight squeeze might break bones. She angled her palm to try and make a more comfortable seat and wondered if that was even possible.

Val looked past her hand as if sizing up the fall, until she moved to block their jump. They shook and hunched forward, hugging their knees, as if they were trying to make themself even smaller. Or maybe just trying to keep warm? They’d been wearing a thick sweatshirt all morning and now they were back to the nude. Phoebe wondered if their size gave them trouble with temperature. She hadn't felt too cold but...they weren't human.

“I’m sorry,” they whispered.

“For what? You’re good, I just don’t want you to hurt yourself. I can put you down on the table here if you’ve calmed down a bit,” she said.

She didn’t want to let go of them. She wanted to turn them over and over in her hands like a puzzle until she had more answers. But she was curious, not heartless: she could wait.

“This is normal for you, right? Like nothing else happened?” she asked. They finally looked up to meet her gaze, their expression uncertain.

“Y-yeah, yes. And please, put me down. Please. I’ll be good.”

Val’s tone made her uneasy. There was a sudden bitter taste in her mouth as she re-contextualized the scars down their torso. The size of them, the symmetry of the scratches. That burn on their shoulder looked horribly circular and unnatural, not something likely to have come about accidentally. She felt sick realizing they probably hadn’t been speaking hypothetically about being hurt if a human discovered them. Her disgust must have slipped out onto her face and been misinterpreted because their heart rate suddenly spiked and they leaned forward.

“C-calm, I mean! I’ll sit still. Please,” Val’s voice cracked and wavered.

Phoebe bit her tongue and slowly knelt down to let them on the table. She was still hovering way above them and wasn’t sure how to fix that without laying down which seemed just as uncomfortable. Val dropped almost immediately dropped into a seated position and sat with a tense, unnaturally straight posture and waited for her to say something.

"Dude, it's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you," she said.

She didn’t like this. She’d never been especially good with uncomfortable feelings, whether they were her own or someone else’s. She tried to joke about things being so normal again to the tiny person sitting on a coaster and it didn’t help. She laughed nervously and after a pause just long enough that even she was sure it was still uncomfortable, Val joined her. She didn’t know what else to do and mumbled something about going to get dressed, pointing out the scrap she’d been wearing so they could do the same if they wanted.

Val flinched again, the fur on their tail bristling as the shadow of her gesture approached but otherwise they were nearly perfectly still. Her cheeks pinked as she realized they may not want to wrap up in some old, trashy rag a near-stranger had just been wearing. She decided she should just get herself dressed first and shifted uncomfortably, debating whether or not she should leave them here or if that would strand them on the table. Was she supposed to cut up another outfit to be a good host? Finally, Val stood and shuffled to the fraying purple scrap.

“What are you going to with me?” they asked quietly.

“What?”

“I thought it would be nice to know before you… I don’t know. Sorry. I can just get dressed,” they muttered.

“No, what do you mean? I’m not gonna do anything to you,” Phoebe said.

They bristled and turned to consider her with eyes wide enough that she could see the iris properly, even from here. They looked bewildered and disbelieving. That sick feeling in Phoebe’s stomach grew, along with a pressing need to defend herself—was it that unbelievable? Were their experiences so universally awful that they thought humans were all just as cruel? The disgust must have slipped out onto her face because they recoiled and slunk back to grab the scrap.

“No, I’m sorry, no, it’s just I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you. Or, no, I’m not doing anything with you, that’s not what I meant, I mean—I’m not going to hurt you or kick you out or anything. I’ve never had a guest that’s…like you before. That I knew of anyway.”

Val managed a smile at that, if only for a second.

“I—it’s not that I think you want to hurt me or anything but…after…I don’t think anyone would blame you for…you could, you know?” they said, voice soft.

“If you mean like, for earlier, I’m not mad. Like, all these bruises don’t feel great but you were having a bad morning, I get it. Kinda. But I don’t want to get payback, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she said. It was enough to get them to relax at least a hair.

“I—we probably should get dressed, like you said. My um, my clothes are under your dresser from this morning, if you don’t mind giving me a lift over there. O-or you could bring them here, if you don’t want to—it’s awkward, now I know,” they said with an empty laugh.

“What would you prefer?” Phoebe asked and they startled.

“Oh! Um, either is fine, thank you. Whatever’s easier for you.”

Phoebe was skeptical of that, given how skittish they’d been, but held out a hand for them. She didn’t want to dig around on the floor, she had spent enough time down there today. Val cringed at first as she reached for them, then loosened as they looked at her open, waiting palm. They bundled up the sheet scrap to cover their chest before looking up at her with a shy smile.

“Thanks. Um, for not grabbing me again. And…just, thank you for not being mad,” they said.

Phoebe nodded uncomfortably. She’d only been trying to keep them from hurting themself, had she hurt them instead? They didn’t look injured. Her hand wavered, but they bounded easily up her fingers and sat on the cushion of her palm with a lightness that took her breath away. They had an easy balance even on her uneven flesh and settled comfortably against her fingers as if they had been made to fit there.

They were so impossibly small and spectacularly delicate-looking. Their eyes were big and wet and they were altogether cute in the same way as a kitten, if she pretended she didn’t know about those brutal scars. She brushed her thumb through their hair and felt their ear twitch as her fingertip passed it by. The fur on the end of their tail tickled her palm as—also like a cat—they thumped it against her hand in apparent annoyance until she sheepishly apologized.

“It’s alright, you’re not the first. I already knew I’m pretty,” Val said.

Phoebe rolled her eyes and stood up. They set a hand on her thumb as if for balance, little claws resting in the ridges of her fingerprint, but she could tell they didn’t need the support—there was no weight in the gesture. Unlike her, they were used to this. They barely swayed as she started to walk.

“Hey, so, before we uh, turned back, we were talking about other people like you? You said you were a borrower, was it?” she asked.

“R-right, I was… we were looking at those… right. Yeah, borrower. I don’t know if that’s the ‘right’ word, scientifically. It’s like…you’re human but call yourself mankind? I think there’s another word,” they mumbled.

“Like what?”

They took a deep breath and crossed their arms like they were hugging themself. She could feel the tension ripple down their back. She waited for them to decide on how much they were willing to share.

“I always just say borrower, but, um…I think it also starts with b, maybe. Not sprite, though. I’ve never heard that.”

“I’ve never heard sprite describe anything real, just fantasy creatures. I guess I’ve never heard of anything like you being real either,” Phoebe said.

This time Val muttered too quietly for her to hear and gestured towards the dresser. They must be with questioning again. She set them down on the floor and shuffled backwards to the closet, hyperaware of how heavy her footsteps were, before turning around to grab her own clothes and offer them some privacy in process.

By the time she turned back around, Val had vanished. She called out and looked under and around the dresser for where they could have hidden themself, but they were gone.

-

Val

Val spent what felt like an eternity tucked against the side of the mattress waiting for Phoebe to give up and leave. There was a terrifying minute where they chose not to breathe as the shadow beneath them deepened and Phoebe searched in the dusty space below the bed. She sighed when all she could find was her own clutter. They were glad they were themself again but they wanted this whole thing to be done and over. They worried it never would be.

They should come out, they knew that. It was awful and rude to run off and disappear without a word of goodby, worse to skulk around where they didn’t belong. Even if she really wasn’t upset with them already, she’d have every right to be furious when she found them. And it was a matter of when, not if, unless they moved away from her apartment entirely. She knew now and Val was a mediocre borrower on their best days. She’d catch them eventually. Their gut told them it would have been better to stay and cooperate and just hope they could convince her not to use them as a lab rat.

They had only run because the colony was so close—running was the right thing to do by borrower standards, or the least wrong anyway. If they could convince the colony that it hadn’t been their fault… Better yet, they could try to cover it up like it had never even happened. They’d never be able to do that if they stayed with her.

All Val wanted was a place in the colony where they could pick up some specialist trade and never had to leave the walls again. They were more learned than most borrowers after all, entirely literate, they could be useful. They didn’t mind tedious busywork. They didn’t mind being ordered around. They were tired of being fending for themself alone like this.

“I guess you went home. Not sure how I feel about you skulking around my room, but... alright. I’d still like to talk about… well, everything, really, if you’re willing to come back sometime,” Phoebe said eventually.

Talk. Would she really be willing to leave it at talk?

They let another few minutes pass after she left the room before rushing for the nearest escape. The climb home was long and laborious without their gear and once they made it, they collapsed onto their little sponge bed and stayed there for days.

-

Val listlessly re-arranged their shelf in a futile search for a forgotten stash of food. There hadn’t been anything there yesterday, or the day before, but the day before that they had found a little pile of sunflower seeds they didn’t remember taking. Those had only lasted so long.

They hadn’t left their loft since they made it back home. They’d barely left their bed. They had lost track of how many days had passed—at least a week. They should have been packing. They should have packed, past tense. They should be gone. They should have sent word to the colony in the center of the complex that one of the tenants knew, (that maybe everyone knew), but how could they defend themself this time—the truth was too unbelievable to be an excuse. And how many times could they mess this up before Parsley and the rest of their council told Val that they were no longer allowed to live in the complex?

The idea terrified them more than starving did. They weren’t built to survive outside, not with the weather and the cold and about five hungry, violent creatures for every one Val had already heard of. No, they’d much rather starve than get banished to the wild to be eaten.

But it was getting late. The unit downstairs had pets and the one next door had another outcast rumored to have been exiled for his violent tendencies. Val didn’t have the energy to navigate around either. They barely had the energy to trudge around their own loft. If they didn’t do something now, this was going to get even worse and then they would die.

They wrapped themself in another layer of flannel and glared at the floor. As if in mockery, the kitchen below them smelled amazing. It was so close. Hot, seasoned food. They could almost see it through the drywall, simmering on the stove.

Muffled music bounced through the walls, occasionally joined by Phoebe's off-key alto. They listened when she spoke up now, in case she was saying something that they needed to know. Several times, she had addressed them directly as if they were in the room with her. She wanted to see them again.

She said she didn’t mind if they stayed.

They squeezed their eyes closed and rolled deeper into their bedding. Bad idea.

Of course she said didn’t mind if they stayed. She was more than curious, prying. She had let them go, but Val had felt the hesitation. The slight jerk of her hand when they went to leave, the desire to keep them for herself to study. Val shuddered at the thought of those photos and pulled their blankets tighter around themself.

Maybe some ants would make their way into the loft, now that Val had choked down the last of the herbs they’d been using as pest deterrents. Their empty stomach lurched in distaste that roiled into another pang of hunger. They had never liked their mother’s awful outdoorsy, survivalist eats. God, they envied how long a human could go without food—what good did the ability even serve, when they had all the food they could want?

Maybe they should risk the cabinet once they were sure Phoebe was away from the kitchen. Maybe she hadn’t set any traps. Maybe they could get lucky again. Maybe it wouldn’t so bad.

-

taglist: @da3dm @whumpsday @gt-daboss

(To be added/removed from the taglist please comment, ask, or message, I’ll forget if it’s just in the tags of a reblog!)

[rickybaby]

Ima need him to stop saying these things. I also don’t believe that Alex *has* to take it

Ok ok it’s been five minutes and I think I’m good now 😂. I’m trying to ascertain how trustworthy a source Peter Windsor could be and I keep seeing people say he used to be close to Frank Williams which is why he could possibly have an insider scoop.

But yeah, still think its possible that there’s been talks and I might wake up tomorrow to this being confirmed, I’ll still be out here this whole season being loud about Daniel

[inkskinned]

you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.

but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.

i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.

so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.

you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."

i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"

"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.

i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.

and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.

you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."

"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."

you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.

i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"

"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."

"do i die?"

you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."

"oh."

"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."

i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.

i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.

"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."

i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.

you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."

"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.

you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."

"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.

i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."

you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."

"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."

"you could always die, to be fair."

i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"

"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."

i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."

"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."

i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"

"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."

i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push the heel of my palm into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"

i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.

"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."

you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.

you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.

i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.

[hinamie]

mentor

[grilde1chesse]

BE FREE!!!

remember 2 do ur clicks!!

[mikurinkuwu]

neru's secret origin is finally out

[tazuransi]

one cannot resist moth wife

[greencarnation]

"ukraine invasion" vs "israel-hamas war" hm. something something wording and western media bias and propaganda

[pangur-and-grim]

every time I say “starting nooooow I won’t have any major expenses” something HAPPENS! there’s raw sewage backing up from my drains, and apparently the plumbers will need to break the floor and the wall to get to the pipes and fix it.

if the cat stuff hadn’t wiped out my bank account, this would be annoying but manageable. as it is…..I’m going to try to get everything up in the store for Friday.

[vmkhoneyy]

“People are inherently terrible” no!!! Have you ever seen a child wait for their friend while they tie their shoelaces? Have you ever known someone who would bring hurt squirrels and rabbits and mice to the nearest vet just so it doesn’t suffer? Have you seen someone grieve? Have you ever read something that hit your heart like a freight train? Have you looked at the stars and felt an unexplainable joy? Have you ever baked bread? Have you shared a meal with a friend? Have you not seen it? All the love? All the good? I know it’s hard to see sometimes, I know there’s pain everywhere. But look, there’s a child helping another up after a hard fall. Look, there’s someone giving their umbrella to a stranger. Look, there’s someone admiring the spring flowers. Look, there’s good, there’s good, there’s good. Look!!!!

[brainrotcharacters]

TW: Wolverine Badonkas

I laughed rewatching because like

[hotdogmchiggin]

Company Mandated Fancy Fits on the Tulpar 😏

Also had to include the REAL star of the show (and a bonus)

Based off of this and this. Thank you very much joetastic for being inspirational 👍

The REAL reason this is late

[petricorah]

I love "i would kill for you" ship dynamics but what about "i would stop killing" ship dynamic??

I would lay down my sword for you. I would change my nature and go against everything i've known. I would resist the easy way out of solving my problems. I would give up the adrenaline of battle to stay by your side and make tea instead. I'm not sure I know who I am without a weapon in my hand because I've had to fight for so long but for you I'm willing to try and figure this out.

It must be hard. To put down your weapon that's protected you for so long. It's allowed you to stay alive it's kept you from getting hurt--physically and mentally. Because you've never had to worry about a real relationship if you think you'll be dead at the next battle. And you feel naked without it and it feels like you're ripping off an extension of yourself. Are you even whole without it? Are you worthy of being loved if you can't prove it by risking your life? And yet they've found someone who's asking them for something much harder than dying in battle on their behalf. They've found someone who wants them to live. And that's much more terrifying.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Be wary not of the beast, but the hand that tamed it.

(Read more dog training tips over at Tiger Tiger)

[hinamie]

the new jjk cafe fits have been living in my head . no thoughts except yuuji in a letterman

[humbuns]

pieced together till they're no longer broken apart