#just personalities and basic life stories

[diagonal-queen]

im basically back so i'm doing this even though nobody will read it lol (i dont even blame you because look at all that TEXT)

Do you have a good relationship with your parents? not really i guess? it's complicated so imma just say nah

Who did you last say “I love you” to? i think to my dog lol

Do you regret anything? i regret writing rpf as a kid 💀 i also regret smacking my little brother's butt to discipline him as a kid. it goes against my stance of 'don't hit children' that i have today and i do feel real bad about it, i just emulated the parenting techniques i knew at that age.

Are you insecure? HELLA lmao

What is your relationship status? single as FUCK boiiiiiiiiiii

How do you want to die? peacefully and in my sleep with my puppies laying next to me

What did you last eat? right now i'm eating crackers

Played any sports? used to be a bit of a discus prodigy as a kid, and was also not a half-bad sprinter. i danced from 2-12 as well and also enjoyed chess. nowadays i don't play any sports

Do you bite your nails? i do on occasion but i try not to

When was your last physical fight? i've never been in one. maybe with my sister when we were kids? idk

Do you like someone? kind of? if that makes sense

Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? no. but i've tried for sure lol

Do you hate anyone at the moment? yeah, but by now it's a dormant hate that just lingers

Do you miss someone? is it possible to miss someone you haven't met irl before?

Have any pets? two doggos!

How exactly are you feeling at the moment? neutral, but like a 6/10

Ever made out in the bathroom? i mean a lot of people pee in the woods right so technically yeah

Are you scared of spiders? i'm desensitised mostly, like if i see one i won't kill it (unless i KNOW it's dangerous). if the spider is on me it's a different story

Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? i literally always think about this lol. there's so much i wish i could change but at the same time, even though i don't like myself, i don't think i deserve to be put through all that again

Where was the last place you snogged someone? the gay bar

What are your plans for this weekend? moving lol

Do you want to have kids? How many? i would usually say 'i'm 20 i'm too young to consider it yet' but one of my classmates from highschool has a baby already so i don't know man T-T

Do you have piercings? How many? just on my ears

What is/are/were your best subject(s)? english and legal studies in highschool, and psychology now.

Do you miss anyone from your past? i reminisce but don't miss

What are you craving right now? a warm brownie would be great

Have you ever broken someone’s heart? HE said i did, i don't believe him, but even if i did he deserved it (trust me on this one. he deserved it.)

Have you ever been cheated on? not that i'm aware of, but i wouldn't be surprised if i was

Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? not that i'm aware of. i hope not??

What’s irritating you right now? the heat. i'm not having a hot girl summer at all T-T

Does somebody love you? i hope so

What is your favourite color? i like baby and dusty pink. and lilac

Do you have trust issues? i'm pretty sure

Who/what was your last dream about? last night i dreamt that i was in a relationship with pt4 jotaro. he was quiet, gentle and loving. this is weird because i am female

Who was the last person you cried in front of? i think my mother? if not then probably my bestie

Do you give out second chances too easily? yes, sadly

Is it easier to forgive or forget? it's hard for me to forgive someone if they don't at least apologise. so i guess forget

Is this year the best year of your life? it's february, but like hopefully yeah!

How old were you when you had your first kiss? sweet 16

Have you ever walked outside completely naked? no T-T

Favourite food? fried chicken, one specific chocolate cake, yellow nectarines and sushi

Do you believe everything happens for a reason? not in the way others do

What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? watched scott cramer

Is cheating ever okay? usually i'd say no. but there are rare instances where i reckon it's not necessarily a bad thing (as bad as that might sound)

Are you mean? i don't think so

How many people have you fist fought? none?? T-T

Do you believe in true love? yes

Favourite weather? dark and overcast (not raining), cool but not cold

Do you like the snow? i've only been in snow once and it was a good time. but i got ice in my eye during a snowball fight and it scarred me a little bit

Do you wanna get married? for sure i do! i know most people think of marriage culture as outdated and heteronormative (which i fully understand) but i do want to be a bride one day. i'd love that

Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? hm...when a girl does it i don't mind but when a boy does it it feels a little icky IM SORRY </3

What makes you happy? clowns, stuffed toys, colourful soap, poofy sleeves, tbh i'm really a six year old at heart and a lot of things make me happy

Would you change your name? okay so i wouldn't legally change my first name (i don't often like when people besides my family use it, but it's rare and pretty so i wanna keep it), but i would like to make Dia my legal alias that would be so sick. i would for sure change my last name though that shit boring asf

Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? no. i'd kiss her again she was nice

Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? i'd marry and adopt kittens with you @jesterph0bic

Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? refer to question 55

Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? my brother (hbd btw)

Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? my sister

Do you believe in soulmates? yes but not in the traditional way

Is there anyone you would die for? yes

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[reiding-writing]

Well, basically, it would be a "Spencer × female reader" One Shot and in it, the reader should be a woman (as I already said) the same age as Spencer. She is not an FBI agent, though. She is a stay-at-home mom and together, she and Spencer have two kids, a 2-year-old twin girls (you pick the names, just keep the age and gender the same. I picked age 2 because I love that age and I'm also about to start to work with kids that age). And Spencer arrives home after working on a case on his birthday. He is exhausted and isn't expecting to get anything, but his wife and daughters welcome him with cake and presents. It's not exactly a party, but they are all together and that's what matters to him. What do you think about this idea? I think it would be cute, so if you'll write it, thank you🙂. — @lucreziaq2001

SURPRISE! — S.REID

what better thing for spencer to come home to on his birthday than his girls?

spencer reid x wife!reader | 1.5k | fluff | masterlist.

a/n — fluff was promised, and fluff has been delivered 🙂‍↕️

Spencer had seen many things in his life—more than any one person should ever have to witness.

His job as a profiler meant he spent more time immersed in the darkness of human nature than anyone should. Yet, despite the chaos and the constant threat of danger that shadowed his every step, Spencer knew there was one thing that made it all worthwhile: you.

You weren’t an FBI agent. You weren’t involved in his cases, never surrounded by bloodstained evidence or haunted by the victims’ stories. You were a stay-at-home mom, and together, you and Spencer had built a life that brought him peace.

His mind was always working, always calculating, always trying to figure out what made people tick. But when he came home to you, when he saw the sparkle in your eyes and felt the warmth of your touch, the world slowed down. It was a calmness he treasured.

And tonight, after a long and exhausting day of chasing down leads, after the case had gone longer than expected, Spencer was coming home to something more precious than any solved mystery.

—

As Spencer pulled into the driveway, he noticed the house was dark. It was almost 9 PM, and he knew his girls, Julia and Ava, would be sound asleep by now.

You, too, would likely be tucked into bed, content to have a quiet evening after the chaotic day of caring for the girls. It was a routine that worked for you, the silent and subtle balance of home life.

You had everything under control while Spencer was gone.

He hated that he wasn’t there more, but he made it work. He made it work because he loved you and the girls more than anything else in this world.

Opening the front door with a quiet turn of the handle, Spencer slipped inside, trying not to make a sound. The house smelled faintly of vanilla and lavender, the scent of candles you liked to burn in the evening.

As he stepped deeper into the house, he could hear muffled voices coming from the kitchen. Curious, he followed the sound, silently walking down the hallway.

When he reached the kitchen, he stopped short, blinking in surprise at the scene before him.

There you were, standing near the kitchen table, smiling up at him with that warmth in your eyes he could never quite get enough of. And in front of you, perched on high chairs, were Julia and Ava, both girls grinning from ear to ear with cake smeared on their faces and hands.

“Happy birthday, Daddy!” Julia called out, her little voice echoing with excitement. Ava immediately chimed in, “Happy birthday!” The two of them clapped their hands in unison, giggling in the way only two-year-olds could.

Spencer’s heart swelled at the sight. He had been expecting nothing. He was used to spending his birthday alone, at the office, working cases that kept him up late into the night. But this—this was the last thing he expected.

You stepped forward, holding a small cupcake with a single candle flickering brightly atop it. Your smile was soft and genuine, your eyes filled with love and adoration.

It was the kind of birthday celebration Spencer had never allowed himself to want, but the kind he realised he needed more than anything.

“I’m sorry it’s not much,” you said, your voice warm with affection. “I know you’ve had a long day, but we wanted to make sure you knew how much we love you,”

Spencer’s chest tightened, his throat going dry as he took in the sight of you and the girls. The exhaustion of the case, the stress, the dark thoughts of the day all melted away in an instant. It wasn’t much, but to him, it was everything.

“Mommy helped us make cakes!” Ava announced proudly, her voice still full of excitement.

“Wish, Daddy!” Julia urged, her eyes wide with innocence.

Spencer blinked and then looked down at the cake, its candle flickering gently. He felt a lump form in his throat as he made his silent wish, his heart full of gratitude.

You had done this for him. After everything, after a long day and the stress of his work, you had taken the time to create something small and beautiful to remind him of what truly mattered. His family.

Spencer blew out the candle, not taking his eyes off the girls as they giggled and clapped again.

“Wish, Daddy! Wish!” Julia repeated, her voice high-pitched with excitement.

“I did,” Spencer said quietly, still caught in the beauty of the moment. “I can’t tell you though, because then it won’t come true, hm?”

The words were barely out of his mouth before both girls came charging toward him, arms outstretched. He kneeled down to meet them, his arms opening wide as they both threw themselves into his embrace.

The smell of their baby shampoo filled his nose, the soft warmth of their little bodies against his chest filling him with an overwhelming sense of love.

“I missed you both so much,” he murmured, pressing his face into their soft hair.

“You’re home, Daddy,” Ava said, her voice filled with contentment as she pulled back to look at him.

Spencer’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, just taking in the feeling of them in his arms. The world outside didn’t matter here. The cases, the crimes, the endless work—it all faded into the background. What mattered was this. What mattered was the family he’d come home to.

You were standing a few feet away, watching them with a soft smile on your face, arms folded over your chest. You were so beautiful in that moment, so at peace, that Spencer couldn’t help but stare at you.

It didn’t matter that he was tired, that his brain was fried from the long day. The sight of you and the girls filled him with a sense of calm that no case could ever take away.

“This is all I ever needed,” he said quietly, his voice full of sincerity as he looked up at you. “You and the girls.”

You walked over to him, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder gently. “I know,” you replied, your voice soft with affection. “We know you’re always thinking about us, Spencer. We think about you too,”

Spencer smiled up at you, his heart racing with love. “I don’t deserve you,”

You shook your head, a playful smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Yes, you do,”

Ava tugged on his sleeve then, her little hand reaching up toward him. “Cake, Daddy! Please?” she demanded, her voice all but pleading.

Spencer laughed, nodding as he stood up to cut the cake. Julia helped him by handing him a fork, and the three of them made sure to pile his plate with an obscene amount of cake, all of them giggling as they served him.

The cake was messy—mostly frosting with a little bit of cake in between—but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except that they were all here together.

As Spencer sat down to eat with his girls, you watched from the side, your heart swelling with love. You hadn’t planned anything extravagant, no party or guests to help celebrate. But you didn’t need to.

Spencer’s happiness wasn’t found in expensive gifts or big gestures. It was found in moments like this: quiet, simple, and surrounded by love.

The evening passed slowly, filled with laughter and stories as the girls played with their toys and Spencer told them about his day—filling in the details in a way they could understand. As tired as he was, Spencer was so thankful to be home. To be with you.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, leaning toward you after the girls had started to doze off, their energy finally fading after a sugar-induced high. He kissed your forehead gently. “This was more than enough. This... is everything,”

You smiled softly, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you leaned into him. “I’m glad you’re home, Spencer,”

[ebsmind]

⏾ IT'S ME, HI, I'M THE PROBLEM, IT'S ME | jack hughes x singer reader smau

summary : daniella starts being messy, vince is still in your likes, but yet it never mattered to you.

warning(s) : mentions of weed and weed consumption, daniella HATE (shes messy and mean for the plotttt), vince hate, and a couple of curse words I think

a/n : IT'S TIMEEEEEEEE anways i LOVE this chapter and I hope you do too!! also ik the girl in the last insta post isn't olivia but that's the only picture i could find! enjoy pookies 💟

series masterlist

liked by ynnation, jackhughes, vincedunn and others

ynuser Lavender Haze MV out now!! stream it and I’ll give you a kiss 💋

view comments

user1 OH THIS GIRL LOVES GETTING HIGH

user2 SHE SMOKES???

user3 can we talk about how beautiful the flowers are?

urbsfuser can we talk about how she gave us her feet for free pls

| ynuser STOP THIS MADNESS

_quinnhughes making jack and luke listen to this

| ynuser 🫡

user4 QUINN COMMENTING?? JACK LIKING??? LUKE LISTENING??? my worlds are colliding fr

canucks stop by and sing the national anthem for us?

| ynuser maybe 😉

| njdevils wait no us!!!! ❤️ by author

ynnation making our entire personality Lavender Haze and damned if we do give a damn what people say 💁‍♀️

user5 Y/N SINGING AT A HOCKEY GAME THAT ISNT VINCES TEAM??? like y/n said…don’t get sad get even 😏

| user6 OH UR SO SMOOTH FOR THAT

user7 girl vince’s new girl is being petty on social media

user8 not vince still following y/n and liking all of her stuff 🙄

user9 this girl is FEEDING us with back to back music videos

liked by user2837, ynupdates, anonymous360, and others

deuxmoi DEUXMOI EXCLUSIVE…singer & songwriter Y/N Y/L/Ns ex-boyfriend Vince Dunns new girl has been seen liking tiktoks, instagram posts, and tweets about the singer and hockey players break up

view comments

user1 oh fuck no she’s ugly

user2 basic

user3 bye y/n is way better

user4 guys let’s not bring the other girl down :(

| user5 girl bffr she knew about them let’s not duck ride daniella she knows what she’s doing

user6 classic mean girl

user7 y/n deserves better!!!

user8 fuck vince!!!

user9 oh she bad

user10 who told her she was eating….

ynuser just posted on their story!

liked by njdevils, jackhughes, nicohischier, and others

ynuser i didn’t get to sing but i had a blast!!! thank you devils ♥️ officially a fan for life

view comments

user1 OMG?????

user2 OH GET HER TO SING IN THE PLAYOFFS

| njdevils planning on it 😉

_quinnhughes what happened with the canucks??

| ynuser you guys are sooooooo far away :(

user3 Y/N AND QUINN????

user4 gonna start watching hockey now

nicohischier 🤙🏻😈

❤️ by author

user5 omg they’re all interacting with her omggggg

kristin.haula you have to come back!!! ❤️

❤️ by author

user6 AWWWWW KRISTINNNNN

user7 my two words are COLLIDING OMG

lhughes_06 LFG!!!

user8 the way she started with no jersey to a custom one at the end of the night 🙈

user9 the tiktok she did with kristin is so cute omg

jackhughes lookin good in red

❤️ by author

ynuser just posted a new TikTok!

❤️ 157.2k

💬 8.3k

⤵️ 4.5k

new notifications!

instagram : jackhughes sent you a new message

[w98pops]

NEW FNV CHARACTERS!!!!!! yupieee

OKAY SO. The cowboy guy's name is Harpo Fergie, him and his friend both are convicted criminals and wanted by the NCR. Both became cell mates in their time at NCR Correctional Facility and after the Powder Ganders took over kinda slimed their way into the Strip where they currently reside :) Harpo is a known fraud and a conman, persona non grata pretty much in every casino on the west coast. Got into jail intentionally to escape the Wrights' wraith basically. Fergie's a 45 year old trainwreck of a man with a huge gambling problem ("It's not a problem If I always win!!!!") and a good heart ❤️

His friend's a bit complicated. They don't have a name, as the one they had before was forced onto them by the slave owner of their parents. Harpo got into a habit of calling them Buddy, Friend or Pal. "Buddy" doesn't enjoy talking about their past, or about themselves in general. Harpo knows that they've been sentenced to life in prison on murder charges and the person they've killed was a very VERY important guy. They have a weird fascination with violence and scary dog vibes which are balanced out by Harpo's funny silly little guy personality. They are also a couple :)

They don't actually play a huge role in my courier's story (although they are very important in aletus courier au... maybe I'll post about it later). Harpo and his pal are just silly dudes I made for fun to fill my "new vegas strip guys in suits" shaped hole... they quickly became very special to me so I guess expect more of them 😭😭😭😭

thats all bye

[alterugdalf]

Gosh, and here's me that already threw the book out of the window when the Dothraki were described as "having no word for 'thank you". This somewhat makes sense from a very narrow worldview where people are baffled about other languages using different idioms or phrases. Having words for emotions that cover stuff one has no specific word in their native tongue for.

Maybe there's a language out there that has no word for 'thank you'. But I can't imagine any human society that has no means of expressing gratitude, no matter how 'barbaric' it is—even if its economy is solely based on fighting and robbery instead of trade and cooperation.

Even within the Dothraki culture people would be grateful at times, and they would need to express this. Implying that the mere feeling of gratitude is despised in this culture is just over the top. Dothraki have mothers, they have trainers, they have sparring partners, they have people who tend to wounds after a pillage. Saying that Dothraki never express gratitude is basically saying they're not human.

This one detail made the rest of the story just unbearable. The depiction of cultures is as flat as a pancake.

Edit: I just did a quick search and found this.

According to creator David J. Peterson, the absence of this term is due to the fact that the Dothraki people do not engage in trade. Because “thank you” is commonly used during the exchange of items, the term never came to fruition in Dothraki. Dothraki’s noun inventory is a reflection of the most important aspects of Dothraki life, while the absence of certain terms mirrors the isolationist practices of Dothraki culture. 

Really? You think expressing gratitude only happens when you exchange items during trade? Did you ever thank a person for holding a fucking door? Picking up the sword you accidentally dropped? Helping you up after you fell down during a combat practice when you were twelve?

Someone over on Discord asked, "I'm morbidly curious: How BAD is A Song of Ice and Fire in terms of the authenticity George claims it to be?"

My reply was straightforward:

The long and the short of it is that ASOIAF is basically a vehicle for GRRM to present both his rape fetish and his Hobbesian view on human nature and has less historical accuracy than Frozen or most other Disney movies.

That's actually a good way to think of it, now that I've said it--he's Family Unfriendly, they're Family Friendly, but both have the same relationship with History: just Pure Aesthetic with no consideration for how the worldbuilding would work.

[sideblogdotjpeg]

Extremely small spoilers for the c3 ending warning

But I think a really fun bit of Sol's character that I kinda didn't notice until the final episode is that ever since Irondeep (or maybe even before?), Sol has just been learning how to sew and crochet. And I have extreme respect for Murph letting Sol use that knowledge in the final episode to redistribute the magic of his displacement cloak amongst the party. I just really love those kinds of small character details in fantasy - the hobby they pick up randomly that slowly becomes more and more of a skill as the story progresses.

YES ! sols background knitting/crochet hobby (theyre used kind of interchangeably) is one of my favourite little quirks of his to think about... and if you keep track of its offhanded mentions, it actually weaves (hehe) a really sweet mini-story about sols character !

(teeny tiny mini essay under the cut, because i. have. thoughts)

so! a minor um actually is that sols knitwork is actually brought up pretty much at the VERY start of his character intro;

"...I'm wearing a homemade sweater that is in the same pattern as the standard issue synth knight sweater, but that one didn't fit me, so ive crafted my own as a replica - the sleeves are a little long, i'm still working on it, i like to knit in my spare time to quell my thoughts a bit..." (ep 1)

so we establish 1) he likes to knit, 2) knitting is an almost meditative practice, a very physical-based method of dealing with his thoughts, 3) he wants to fit in with his cohort of synth knights, even though their 'standard' has excluded and rejected him 4) he takes on this rejection without any bitterness, and instead with an optimism that his own personal inadequacies can be overcome by trying his darn best, 5) he's a cute frog in an oversized sweater

it's a pretty small & overall NOT important line that doesn't mean anything, but you COULD interpret it as the introductory, basic threads of meditative practice, community, belonging and identity that return as pretty major elements in sol as a character!

other, pretty major encounters with the knitting/sewing motif:

ep 7: Callie "we're sort of entwined now, right? i mean, our fates are somewhat braided at this point" + sol "if you're saying that we're friends then yes!" (this isn't a sol knitting moment, but good GOD 'our fates are braided' + them later discovering they're peregrine + sol sewing peregrine patches - we LOVE unintentional foreshadowing)

ep 27: Before the king durretar fight, sol gives everyone a peice of black yarn to wrap around their arms, a symbol of the living will they made to each other. Later in the ep, he holds up the band just before he goes down

ep 39: Right before he leaves to return to irondeep, sol gives swag "a little bracelet of yarn, just so we can feel connected" (literally FUCKING RUINOUS when you think about this being THE LAST TIME THEY SEE EACH OTHER FACE TO FACE and all the other moments sol gives his loved ones threads/bracelets. god. actually ruinous)

ep 53 (short rest!): This requires maybe a bit of context... but essentially, its caldwell describing sol's conflict of wanting to save the people he loves VS the growing reality of his inability to do so as, "no matter how big and thick and fluffy a sweater he knits, it always unravels itself"

ep 57: sol plants a piece of thread on the two ice swags (red and purple) as a way to tell them apart

ep 61: sol takes the black band from the king durretar fight and weaves it into a design that he made of the peregrine symbol/callie's sigil so that they can all wear it as a team (and one for a squire too, of course!)

ep 72: sol shreds his displacer scarf & patches up everyone's track jackets with it, to share the protection magic (this does end up saving calder's life i think.... THAT'S THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP BABY.)

finally, also in ep 72: galactic swag returns the night sky to the faewild, and sol comments "now that's knitting..."

I think. All in all. It's like. sol is this guy who, perhaps more than anything else, longs for family, home & community. He found this in launchpad and mothership, and their promise that if he could just work hard enough to prove that he meets their standards, then he CAN fit in and be worthy, and belong, and be part of something big. And over the course of campaign 3, he finds this with duck team.

All these desires for connection are expressed through the small things he knits for the people he loves. It keeps coming up over and over again, sol trying to stitch pieces of himself into his friends. Have this yarn, and this thread, and this bracelet, so you can remember you have someone to fight for and someone fighting for you (i have THOUGHT about this being kind of like a Lady's favor to a knight.... i've THOUGHT about this...) In ep 39, he gives swag a mushroom with the stated purpose that it might let sol know if swag dies. In ep 41, he tells hardwon that "there haven't been many people that I've met that have stuck around and meant something to me". I think you could interpret.... sol's habit of giving little knit gifts to his friends as maybe kind of a manifestation of that worry. that people are going to leave him, and he's going to end up alone again. so the thread of the living will comes back over and over again... no matter where you are, dead or alive, we'll be connected somehow.

You can also interpret all of this in the context of his childhood! in the waterpark ! A place where he was cold, and in danger all the time, and alone, and nobody made any 'big and thick and fluffy' sweaters for him. That the way he responds to this is... by making sure the people that he loves never ever have to feel like that. Here's something to keep you warm, and to remind you that i Know you, I Think of you, and i Love you. Sol just wants to protect all his friends by knitting them up in a big comfy sweater (and by the finale, in a way, he does!)

anyway ! those are my um. my. very minor thoughts about sol & knitting. i think about it a normal amount i promise. it is really REALLY a very fun bit about his character and it is. wonderful to see it evolve over the campaign.

Also since I accidentally went whole hog and wrote a full essay. Um. more sol knitting mentions that I personally find very delightful, although less relevant to this specific analysis:

Ezry arc: "i haven't had a chance to knit in a while, that really mellows me out" < sol's explanation for nearly punching a salamander to death because he kind of reminded him of a completely different salamander guy who had the audacity to go to the movies with albin, once. Really cute because awww he knits to mellow out. and also. god sol is fucking Insane. frog who is for sure possessive a normal and healthy amount

Living Woods arc: the living woods arc has sooo many cute lil sol knitgifts. sol gives calder a reversible beanie that has the initials CK (for calder kilde) and KC (for kalder cilde)... he says he was making it for calders birthday! (i didn't check this particular moment for accuracy, but i DO rmb calder saying smthn to the effect of "this is the nicest thing anyone's ever got for me") ..... this also has the famous callie crochet bra + i THINK sol's knit boots for calder

Irondeep arc: sol makes the infamous knit hammer cover with pompoms for kenna. (he later also makes i think.. a cloth for kenna to clean her hammer? he's trying guys....)

Tsunare arc: callie asks sol to make a gunk bindle

Ice knife arc: EVERYBODY IS REALLY MEAN TO SOLS KNITTING. SOMEBODY DEFEND HIM HE DOESNT DESERVE THIS....

Faewild arc: after calder gives himself a crop top , "i will Happily be your tailor"

Conclusion? this frog loves his friends!!!!!

[tubbytarchia]

Why Shortgrass is AWESOME and why you guys should care RIGHT NOW please

They admire each other's building skills A LOT a lot. To the point that it's basically their own language where they just communicate through compliments and block choice discussion. The horse rivalry is the one thing everyone knows about, but I don't see anyone commenting on the way they get at each other, especially the things Bdubs proposes, all "I hate him now. I didn't think I was capable of hate. I'm gonna get good at PVP. I'm gonna get him. I'm gonna blow him up. Joel is evil and fucked up", literally playing out his murder plans, only to then become a little fangirl as soon as he's in Joel's presence. Joel doesn't show it as much but he's the same way. They're literally 👉👈 at each other. Bdubs is also so susceptible to praise. Although he often plays up his reactions, you know he loves a good compliment and he knows any he gets from his senpai idol guy Joel are genuine

This is especially well showcased when Bdubs was showing off his stalls that have been trapped, and Joel thinking that something is up. Bdubs dedicated an entire episode to this, hyping himself up, and then them actually interacting is tense but extremely polite. And then that whole interaction is capped off with Joel: "Wow I though I was gonna die but this has been really pleasant. Thanks". Then they like playfully taunt each other before Joel flies off and Bdubs goes "That's exactly how that was supposed to go... simple and friendly... I got him played like a fiddle.... yes I do..." after accomplishing nothing but giving Joel a nice little showcase of his new build

That is to say, it's very cute that Bdubs despite his expressions of Joel being despicable gets exposed to his genuine side and how they tend to be very sweet towards each other (examples below). It serves as an interesting but nice contrast to the Life series, where a lot of players (some more than others) go off of the same belief, that Joel is a rabid dog in need of being put down. Joel very much plays into being a rascal, but he means no real harm (eg reassuring Bdubs he wouldn't kill his important horses and you know he won't) and it so easily becomes playful and mutual banter between them

Anyway bunch of moments of them being cute or something that I can't and don't want to sum up organically

At the start of a SL session, Joel is yellow and on 8 hearts, is asking the Mounders for their hearts, Bdubs is hesitant but goes "you deserve it". Then he lies to Etho that Joel was so intimidating and scary and forced him. Then he lies to Impulse that Joel was pathetic and begging for it.??

In one episode of SL, Bdubs tries to help Joel guess someone's task by guiding him to Grian, but Grian's task was to get called out so Joel helps him succeed instead and Bdubs feels really bad about it. Then like 2 episodes later he's, again, sharing intel to help him guess multiple tasks. Something about the way he's above ground talking to Joel for an extended period of time at multiple points while Joel is down under working on an exp farm calling him his favorite snitch (the only person Bdubs doesn't snitch on is Etho. Naturally)

And also Bdubs praising Joel a bunch when he sees him actually digging out the farm. He's praising Joel as if it were his task to do so (like Scar with Pearl in that other SL episode) but he's just. doing this just because

When Bdubs' task is to get someone to leave whilst he's telling a story, Joel eventually does, and Bdubs seeks him out later just to tell him "I knew you would. I knew you got my back"

"Good morning sunshine!" (Joel in response: "morning mr dub")

"Are you trying to swim in lava, angel?"

Bdubs completely unprompted: "Be calm and cool and collected, like Joel is in moments like these, not scared of anything"

Joel mimicking Bdubs in WL going "you see, Minecraft is like a canvas..." and Bdubs reacting to it

Bdubs saying "Hey, don't- calm down, kay? We're gonna get you out of this, okay?" to Joel while Joel's trying to sell him purpur against his will

Bdubs fixing Joel's trapdoors even whilst in the process of horse cursing him

Bdubs talking about how he wants to beat Joel in PVP "for stealing Etho" and then also calling him a good builder unprompted. He's so fanfiction

And the statue Joel built of Bdubs ofc

If anyone knows more you've gotta tell me

<33 I love u Bdubs you're so good to my boys

[astracora]

EVER's Tool - Chapter 3

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc, Caleb x gn!mc (Caleb POV/MC POV)

Warnings: Hurt/No Comfort, Angst, Talk of EVER Experiments and Torture, Violence, Gore, Spoilers for Caleb's story.

Word Count: 10261

Written: 6th February 2025

Notes: Established-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. I got no notes this time, just a lil migraine that will not bugger off. Enjoy!

Now Playing: Ghosts 'n' Stuff, by Deadmou5

Masterlist AO3

<- Previous

Caleb has imagined and dreamed about the moment he reunites with you.

In some dreams, he knocks on the door of your apartment, waits impatiently for you to open the door. He knows you're home, so he would wait, as long as it took for you to open up. To see him.

He imagines your eyes widening, blinking at him, as he says he's home. Reaches a hand out to you, only for you to rush to him, arms open. Tears streaming down your cheeks, or hiccuping against his chest while he lifts you up into his arms.

Sometimes he dreams about holding your face in his hands, thumbs easing across your cheekbones. Marvelling over having you there again, after all the time he's had to be apart. Etching every part of you back into his memory, as though he could ever forget a single thing.

In some of his dreams, the ones he knows will never come to pass, he holds you as close as he can. Feel your body heat against his body. He sinks into it, remembers he's home, lets you soothe every ache and pain he'll ever have. His hand around the back of your neck, he tightens it a little when you lean back just to look up at him. Tears in your eyes, mismatched gaze holding his.

The pull of you is stronger than his EVOL could ever hope to be. He gives into every urge he's ever had in his life, every day dream, every yearning, every hope, everything he's ever wanted.

Kissing you, he imagines, he dreams about, but he knows it can never compare to the real thing. The warmth of you and the taste. Still, he sinks and he devours and he thrills. You gasp against his mouth, reaching up to him, and he responds by pulling you even closer. As close as you can get, without fusing into him.

Though he wishes you could. Live inside of him, or him inside of you. A world of just you two exists inside his mind, and he wishes for it in reality as well. He's hungrier now, more desperate.

Reminded every moment of the risk to you, the chance of losing you. The time he spent apart. Everyday watching you from afar.

His dreams have shifted over time, from the you he has spent so many years with, to the you he has seen through the lens. Arm lost because of EVER, scars over your skin, the metal of your right arm that matched his own.

Every change to you, he has ingrained in his mind's eye. Every ache, every pain, every loss, every time he had seen the pain in you. His hands aching to touch you, to ease it. To be your ally.

Instead he had had to watch, always distant, tied to the Farspace Fleet with chains he kept for you. Even as his heart cried out. Begged him to run, and keep running. Back to you.

So in his dreams, he soothes his hand over the metal as he kisses you, with his left hand. To feel every groove of your arm, to add it to his memories. He imagines you pulling back to breathe, and though it's a dream and neither of you need to, the look on your face, desperate and breathless makes it worth it.

He never gives you too much of a break though, pulling you back in. Years of craving and the attempt to satiate it.

Of all the ways he imagines reuniting with you… this is more a nightmare than a dream. As you stare at him, cool eyes stunned and wide. You bear EVER's crest at your collar, there's blood splattered up the side of your face.

As he steadies you with his hand, watching as your gaze flickers, he only gets the small warning, the flickering of your eyelids, before you fall. He swoops you into his arms, one arm under your legs and the other around your back, pulling you up against his chest. Holding you tight, clinging to you. "Pipsqueak?"

"It appears the hunting dog has run themselves into the ground. Take them somewhere to rest, please."

He looks up at the Professor, who gives a glance of disdain, and something else that makes Caleb's hackles feel like they're raising. He is barely spared a look as the man goes to leave the room, but as he opens the door, looking back over his shoulder, his sharp eyes narrow. "Make sure you keep an eye on them, I would hate to lose their loyalty and have to resort to tighter chains."

The threat hangs over his head, a reminder of the noose around his throat, of choices made. As he stands, holding you in his arms, he remembers how close to the beast you now are, and how he is all that stands between you and it.

He cannot give them a single reason to take your mind away, to get their claws into you more than they have. Now he has you back, he will not release you again.

—--

You're sinking, like you're falling into concrete.

It closes up around your chest, hardening, and breathing gets harder and harder. Forcing broken gasps out of your mouth, desperate for the haze filling your head to stop.

You can't breathe.

Darker.

Darker.

Go-

When you wake up, you're surrounded by white cold walls. Looming over you is an older woman you don't recognise, in a lab suit. Mask pulled up, glasses glinting in overhead lights.

You try to move, but your arm and legs are tied down.

No.

"Let me go." Rips out of your throat, tugging at the restraints. She ignores you, writing down on a clipboard.

"Day fifty, energy fluctuations-"

The yell turns to a snarl, "Let me go!" Your chest tightens, as you pull, thrash, struggle.

Your chest hurts, burning hot, and when you look down it's open. Red gleaming thing beating visibly where everyone can see.

"No." You try to reach out, hand pulling against the restraints to grasp at the threads of the white lab coat. "Please. You have to help me." You can feel the hot tears streaming down your face. The pain increases, a pressure in your head. You don't want to cry in front of her, you don't want to let her see it, not as she looks down at you.

Cool eyes, unconcerned with the fingers grasping at her coat.

"High levels. Still no indication of memory recollection."

Her hand reaches towards your chest, fingers covered in gloves, and no matter how much you try to recoil from the contact, you cannot get away.

It feels like your lungs are tightening, the wavering on the edge of your vision. The dimming. Flickering lights.

You stare up at her, as the static flickers, and a smiling face looks down at you.

"Gran, please. Help."

As you sink down under the darkness, the smile is gone, replaced with the blue mask, and she sinks her hand into your chest. The red glow illuminates it, and for a split second… before you fade away, you think about a far kinder woman.

Whose hand held your small one, and how despite not knowing her name, or who she was. You miss her.

—---

Caleb finds the room you have been assigned, it is empty and cold. There is nothing in it, no sign of life. No sign of you. He sees none of the plushies you often surround yourself with, no figurines on your desk, no books, nothing. The only thing that indicates it is yours, is the picture frame. He remembers you carving his name into it, so he'd carved a heart in afterwards.

Your face smiles back at him, head leaning on his shoulder, arm threaded through his. You have dirt on your cheek, and he remembers reaching up after the photo was taken to wipe it off. You'd grumbled about why he hadn't removed it before the photo if he'd known.

He'd never responded, just laughed at you, pouting at him.

He'd simply loved every part of you, no matter how you'd looked. Especially when you'd looked at him full of life.

As he rests you on the bed, Caleb goes through motions that are as deeply familiar to him as you are. Tending to wounds, taking care of you, protecting your body.

He remembers teenage years, wiping blood off your knuckles, stitching up wounds you didn't want to take to hospitals. Easing pain with warm hands and ice packs.

You had begged him many times not to tell Gran, to keep each injury a secret, to not let her see you with your heart wounded and your tear stained cheeks. Each time, against his better judgement, he'd hidden it. Sat with you, salving against torn knuckles, as you promised you'd be careful.

You rarely were, the moment you were released out of his grip, you'd run off to get into another fight. Coming up against anyone who was cruel or mean, or unfair to those around you. Arguing with your fists, full of fire and anger. Anger he knew you couldn't take out on the world that left you stranded.

He thinks about the scared kid, whose hand had taken his, then never let go since. Who hissed and growled and snarled at anyone coming too close. Who scratched every time you were pulled away from him. Hands reaching out to grasp at anything you could reach to keep.

Caleb has seen so much of you. Every memory he keeps safe and close to his chest, protecting it with all that he has. Locked where no one can ever reach it but him, and you.

From the terrified kid who never wanted to let him go, to the angry teenager who wanted to fight every problem, to the adult who faced straight forward, eyes full of fire.

You had relied on him constantly, seeking him out as a home ground. Telling him things you could never tell anyone else.

He thinks about the tears you'd shed after medical appointments, shaking, as you sat with the knowledge that you would never know how much time you had until it was too late. Every time your chest ached, you would worry, and so would he. It was never enough time.

There was never enough time, he'd been taken away from you and lost so much time. Watched as you sought comfort in others, as your safe harbour changed. Burned down, leaving you floating. Had to watch the landing pad change.

You'd built a home without him. His hand tightens on yours as he cleans blood off, the metal under his synthetic skin creaking. He eases it, before he can bruise your skin, or damage bone.

He removes your prosthetic in reverence, careful with it, despite the ache under his skin. He'd seen your prosthetic before, the same arm as his own, but when they had replaced it with the wanderer's claw… he'd sought out information, looked for the files.

Sensory feedback similar to his own, pain, but little else.

When he had teased you for copying him so much growing up, he had never wanted you to mirror him in this. There is nothing worthy or good about the twisted corrupt things they have done to you.

As he finishes cleaning up the mess, and putting everything away that he has used, before sitting at your bedside again. Picking up your hand in his own, smoothing over your skin with his thumb. The empty feeling of his right hand, at odds with the feeling of weight and heat in his left hand.

Your fingers twitch, and he thinks of a small sparrow in his palm. Something so small, and so fragile, that he fears every day that it will perish, or its wings will break.

He has caught you every time you have fallen, mended fragile wings, and watched you take off again. He never thought you would lose them.

Caleb has tried to clip them before, yearned to. Reached out with harsh hands to snap bone, only to pull back, to remind himself you are you when you are free. He does not wish to hurt you, he only ever wants you to be happy and healthy. Even if the reason takes you from him…

Still, a sick little voice in his head thrills at you being here. With him, within four walls. Your hand in his.

As you groan, eyelids fluttering, he releases you. Watching as you reach up to rub at your eyes, rolling onto your side for a moment with a groan.

"Pipsqueak?"

You curse under your breath, and he can tell the bruising he saw has caught up to your waking brain, with your hand, you push yourself up. Turning away from him to plant your feet on the ground, leaning forwards.

He calls out your name, moving off the bed to crouch in front of you. Hand hovering near your knee, unable to bring himself to touch you, now that your eyes are open. Mismatched gaze wavering before they focus on him.

Caleb sees recognition, but he has seen it before. Recognition in the awareness that you know him, but none of the weight of height of memory. He is a figure you know that you should know, a name you can speak, but there is nothing else there.

It is like being a child again, every time you had woken up in that shelter, tired and worn. Eyes that stared at him, tearful and unsure. You did not remember how you'd taken his hand that first time, promised him he wasn't alone. You did not remember every day he had spent with you, the paper planes he had made and flown around your head. You did not remember, curling up next to him to sleep, hands clinging to his clothes as though he would disappear if you did not.

You do not remember every moment, that as an adult he realises, was full of love.

You do not remember how much he adores you. Every incarnation, every version of you that comes through, every piece of you he sees.

That could never change.

You look up at him through your lashes, like you are waiting to be told off. Like you have broken something, or stolen cookies out of his stash. Like you have injured yourself and are waiting for him to tell you off.

No matter if you have your memories, those mannerisms never change.

You're guilty, and worried, and he can read you like a book. He can see through every mask you will ever wear.

He will always know you better than anyone else could ever hope to.

"I know Pipsqueak." He watches your eyes widen a little, sitting up so you can look at him properly. He watches your eyes dart around, and if he were not better at controlling his expressions, years of suppressing them, he would have blushed at the way you seem to commit him to memory. "You've forgotten, right?"

He watches you shrink back, your fingers fidgeting, before they scratch at your neck. He stops you, before you scratch it raw. Trying to ignore the way you flinch at the contact. The way your hand pulls back out of his grip.

It leaves an ache in his chest, faced with the startled look and raised hackles. It is not the first time, but every time he hopes it will be the last.

You exhale, fingers reaching out like you're looking for something, he does not know what. Only that you do not find it, and your hand pulls back. "You know?"

He lets out a sigh, and this time when he reaches out, it's to brush a strand of your hair that has grown far longer than he knew you ever liked it, back behind your ear. This time you do not flinch, just watch him carefully. Like he might hurt you. Like everyone else in this place. "Of course, Pipsqueak. I know."

I know everything about you.

I know every part of you.

I still need to know more.

His fingers brush your cheek for a moment, a second, like it was a mistake, a slip. He does not touch your scars, just feels the heat of your cheek with his left hand. The smoothness of your skin.

You pull back, standing up, shaking on feet and back away from him. "I need-" You back up until your back hits the door to your bathroom, hand reaching for the handle and shake your head, "Shower. I need-"

He watches you, as your eyes dart around the room, as your arm trembles, shaking at the handle.

"Go on, I'll wait." He assures, because he will. He will wait.

He has built you diaries and photo albums, he has answered questions every single day.

Who are you?

Caleb.

What are we?

The closest people can be.

Who am I?

My pipsqueak.

He will always wait for you.

You almost leave, before stopping, turning around to look at him, but do not speak. He watches your eyes, the wavering to the gaze. The fear he can read in the depths of your expression.

"I'm not going anywhere Pipsqueak, you're stuck with me." Always. No matter what happens. You're his home. Anyone would have to drag him, dead, from you.

Your eyes narrow, fang peeking out under your lip as you growl at him, "... stay."

He lets out a laugh, reaches out as you spear him with mismatched eyes, and pats your head. Wonders over how tangled and messy it is, uncared for, and he hopes you'll let him brush and dry it after. Though he's smarter than to push.

He does watch as you close your eyes partially, shrink under the pressure of his hand, scowling a little like a child. Sometimes he marvels, that even without your memories, you always have the same soul lurking under there. Reacting the same, acting the same, your words the same. Like you're carved out of stone.

"Alright, Pipsqueak. I'll stay right here for you."

You nod, brushing his hand away with the back of yours before essentially fleeing from him.

He closes his hand, opening and closing as the sensation of your hair through his fingers reminds him once again.

That he's finally home.

Even if he does have to forget that the walls have burned to the ground.

—---

When you remerge, your skin is still steaming and you've thrown an old shirt over yourself. Padding into the room, with a towel still around the back of your neck. He sees you stop for a moment, look at him, like you believed you would wake up out of a dream.

Like you'd forgotten he was real, and in front of you.

You hesitate, look at him, pulling at the end of your shirt. He knows how this goes, you'll try to think about what to say, and he'll wait until you can find the words.

Still. It's been a year.

It's been a year.

So he pats the space in front of him on the bed, and offers a smile he hopes resembles the same one he has given you for years. Though it feels rusty, year old ache to it.

You look at his hand, then at him, head titled just a little bit in question.

"You have questions, I can give you answers, but sit here. It'll take a while, and your hair is wet."

You step forward once, and then stop. He feels a little like he's coaxing that kitten from his childhood. Hand extended, with food, seeking out your trust.

"I'm not a child." You grumble, under your breath.

He fights back the laugh, memories overlapping, and he says exactly what he used to when you'd say it before, "No you're not, but I enjoy doing it. For me?"

Caleb watches your eyes widen just a little, and unlike in his memories, when you speak, it is a whisper, "Enjoy it?"

"Of course, Pipsqueak. It's been a long time. Let me?"

He watches the kitten step forwards, placing itself right in front of him, back turned. He tries not to focus on the scars he can see, deep jagged things. These are new, from your time with EVER.

Carved into your skin, like they're etched with a blade.

Instead, he busies himself with brushing, and drying very tangled hair.

On the first two passes of the brush, you flinch, pulling away carefully. Before forcing yourself to settle, not show him how nervous you are, how you want to flee.

He watches over your shoulder, as you twist fabric in fingers, thinking. Always thinking. Trying to find words for things you're scared to ask or say. He's watched you miss chances beforehand in conversations, busy trying to rehearse or think of words. Processing everything in that perfect head of yours.

"You're dead." Is finally mumbled, and his hands pause where he is threading fingers through strands, "They said you were dead."

He wants to make a joke, 'I got better'. He wants to be honest, tell you how close he got. He pushes both down, and lies.

He lies instead. "The explosion did a lot of damage, they didn't want to disappoint you if they couldn't save me. It was easier to tell you I was gone, until they were sure." It's not the first lie he's ever told you, it probably won't be the last. It still sinks like acid into his gut, to use the words of the people who hurt you.

"They said it was a year ago."

"It was."

"It took a year to save you?"

He can feel it, the raised hackles, the way you turn your head a little, to look at him out the corner of your eye. It is the look he has seen before, like you don't quite believe him, except this is sharp. Like you have a dagger in hand. There's months of mistrust to you, months of frustration.

You're waiting at the edge for lies and betrayal, hardened. You're there under the layers, he just has to draw you out.

"Not the full year," This is closer to the truth, "I had to recuperate." Had to be placed in the fleet. Play their game. Be a pawn. "It was…" A sigh, "difficult."

The dagger is lowered, and you settle back, "Difficult." It's not a question he knows, but he looks at you as you raise a hand to your residual limb, and he feels it. The acknowledgment, even if you do not know the metal under his skin. He knows you'd understand. If he tells you, you will look at him and understand. Even without your memories.

Emotions are far harder to forget.

"We were close?"

It doesn't feel like a question, because it is like asking if the sun rises, or the moon controls the tides.

You have always been, and will always be, the only port for him. His only weakness, and his only home.

"We were."

This time you fully turn your head, his hands falling away from you, as you look at him. Almost, eyes focusing just to his left, like he's used to. Never keeping a gaze for long. "Is that it?"

He laughs this time, as you grumble, the pout on your face one for the books. "What else do you want?"

"What exactly were we? What-" You swallow, and look away again, staring at one of the empty walls, "What was I like?"

His heart jumps, and he thinks it wants to shatter, to escape. The downcast look to your face, the shivering.

You've been alone here, without him. Without anyone but jackals that want to rip at you. No memories, no warm hand to lead you back to the answer. He has not been there to help you, to bring you home.

"We were the closest people could be," He abandons his hat on the side, extends his left hand, palm up towards you, "I knew you better than anyone else, we spent all our time together growing up."

You're cross legged in front of him, hand twitching in your lap, staring down at his.

"You were a troublemaker, constantly getting me to do things for you." He falls into the memories, images of you with dirt on your cheeks, hanging off him, asking for things, teasing him. "You enjoyed insulting me. 'Dummy', 'Stupid Caleb'."

"I sound unbearable." It's a broken whisper, and he sees you. Looking like you're waiting for him to leave, to look at him and see something to leave.

He will never have enough time to tell you all the ways he loves you. He can only try to reach out for you, and tether you to him again.

"No, whenever it mattered, whenever we needed each other, we had each others' backs. You've always been my home, Pipsqueak." You finally touch him, fingers tracing over the lines of his palm, before clinging to his hand.

He watches as you crawl over, and he feels you bury yourself against him. He freezes, but the heat of you against his chest is warm and melts him. Right arm, as empty as it feels, tugs you closer. Into his chest. You're trembling, and shaking but you won't cry.

There were times when you were younger, fresh and hurting from the weight on your shoulder, and refused to let yourself cry. He had often found you, hiding somewhere, shivering and shaking, fighting back all the feelings you couldn't put into words. The locations ranged, under your bed, in the closet, outside in a hollowed out tree.

Caleb has always found you, and he now can continue to do so.

You're so warm, and so right. He has held you so many times, and each time settles his heart, and unsettles it all in one. A feeling of perfection, and fear. The feeling of standing on the edge, of desperation, of all the desires he hides and keeps down. Even if they come to his fingers, each time he passes them through your hair as he holds you. Even if they bite his fingertips, when he brushes your skin carefully.

As your tremors subside, and your breathing calms, he carefully rearranges you, so that you're both lying down. You're clearly exhausted, drained, so you do not react at all as he wraps you in his arms again, cheek against the top of your head.

Your fingers twitch against his chest, where your hand is pressed over his heart.

It's a relief you're sleeping, because with every twitch, his heart skips. He can control many things but his traitorous heart, that is determined to share his secrets.

At least, when you wake up, he will be able to keep you safe from now on.

—---

When you next wake up, you find no weight of heavy nightmare on your shoulder. A brief reprieve from a surety you had grown accustomed to. Instead there is a weight around your hip, and warmth under your head.

Pillowed against Caleb's bicep, and wrapped up against his chest.

Caleb.

Alive.

You detangle carefully from the sleeping figure, who feels like a dream, and dress quickly. Grabbing your claw and reattaching it. Part of you yells to stay, to wake him up. If you ask more questions, find more answers.

Not to let go of someone who looked at you and still pulled you close.

Against every waking nightmare you had, of him being disgusted. Hating you.

Your hand raises to your hair, tugging through the strands that no longer catch at knots. Cared for, where you do not.

'You've always been my home, Pipsqueak.' You hadn't had words to respond to him, but they had clawed at your useless heart relentlessly. Tugging you to him like a pull you didn't understand. Need? Desperation? A desire to affirm for yourself how true it was?

Every day spent in the compound reminded you not to trust people blindly, there was nothing here worth protecting, besides yourself.

There was part of you that knew not to trust Caleb, not fully. Out of nowhere, like a gift wrapped in a bow, presented to you when you needed something to tether to ground. A show of kindness from an organisation that showed kindness to no one. It was pathetic and stupid and ridiculous for you to accept this.

You should, you know you should, pull away and push. There is nothing good to be found from letting EVER have their hand on your heart.

There is no joy to be found, in what will come to pass.

And yet.

And yet.

His voice is so warm, and so soft. He is all you have ever known you were once attached to. The only person with a memento that you hold close, in hope and in blind faith, despite the memories not being there.

He knew you had forgotten, without you saying anything. He looked at you and saw it, so surely he had to know you. Had to understand you.

Despite all that fear of the outside edges with knives and glass shards… you cannot deny that part of your heart steadied when he brushed your hair. That you felt less alone when you touched his hand. That you did not get chased by nightmarish shades through the abyss of sleep, while held by him.

There is a feeling, while staring down at him as he sleeps, your claw twitching, that reminds you that cruel tricks and illusions play a part in EVER's machinations.

That you are a working tool, that you work better when you are a loyal working tool.

It is a fool that knows the snake lurks in the grass, but still steps into the strands anyway.

You find yourself wanting to be a fool. Wanting to hold onto the heat of someone who does not see you as an experiment. Who smiles and laughs and comforts your heart without seeing you as a beast to hold the leash of.

You want to lay down at the fire of acceptance and find relief.

He is familiar, despite the empty part of your mind that cannot recall anything, and there is a small part of you… a tiny little voice that crackles through the static, that tells you, above all else, and without any doubt colouring it- that you can trust him.

Always.

—--

Leon's coffee is always burnt, always bitter. He has a collection of drinks that you raid every now and then, when you have to stomach his lab. He makes a pot, and then he forgets it, caught up in research. Everytime you pour a cup, you spill it on the side, hoping it stains and makes one of those veins pop out of his forehead.

You prefer the drinks in the cafe, even though you rarely ever get the chance to go to visit it. Kept caged, with just a moment's reprieve. The last time you had escaped, you had broken down in front of the crowd.

One of whom, you expect to see when you enter the lab, instead you only get greeted by Leon. Who does not look up from his research, but does speak when you pour a cup, purposefully missing, "It's too early for you to be spilling drinks all over my work surfaces, little bomb." As he says it, you look right at him, as you pour more over.

He does not look, but you decide it's probably satisfying enough knowing he'll have to clean it up later. Scowling, and tutting as he does.

You hold back the urge to spit for good measure, and down the cup, before refilling it. This time using sugar cubes he keeps, and spilling milk too.

It's a lot more tolerable, now that the burnt taste is covered up somewhat, as you sip, you move over to a desk and sit on it. The ache in your body is eased since you woke up, relieved by the heat of the shower, and actual sleep. "Where is your guest?"

"My guest? Actively avoiding me. He has not left the back room."

You can't say you're surprised, who would want to be in the viper's nest. He'd been attacked, kidnapped, and his family threatened. It's not even like you'd given him clothes, food, anything. Or maybe Leon had handled it when you left.

"Avoiding my prison keeper, who has the moral code of a rotten carrot? Surprising."

You look up as the man in question enters the room. He looks tired, dishevelled, he is wearing a new shirt, you note. Though it does not look like he slept. A smart move. EVER might want his talents, but it does not mean they would not force his use. Whatever they have to convince him, must be something special.

"I have no interest in hurting you, Doctor Li, the sooner you accept our offer, the better."

"As I have informed Carter, multiple times, I have no interest in working with you."

Sipping your coffee, you can't stop yourself from snorting. Forest green eyes focus on you, and the edges flicker.

'Darling.'

You shake your head, and force yourself to ground, clenching your claw and raising a brow. "You're a moral one, aren't you Doctor?"

"Should I not be?"

Raising your shoulder in a half shrug, you turn away, kicking your feet, "It won't last long."

"We'll see."

Leon stands, placing his documents in a drawer, and locking it behind him with his fingerprint. You watch him place his cup in the sink, glaring down at the mess on his side, "Little bomb, clean this up." He turns to look at you, over the rim of his glasses, when he realises you have no urge to move, he sighs and wipes down the worst of it quickly before heading to the door. As he pushes it open, he clicks his fingers, and turns back to look at you, "That reminds me, you have a new job, little bomb." Your grunt is his only answer, staring down into your cup.

You can feel the doctor's eyes on you. You pointedly ignore him as well.

"You're to guard the doctor."

This forces your head up, "I'm to what?"

"Guard him, keep him safe, keep him out of trouble." The last one is a warning, shot at Doctor Li, with a false smile. Who does not look back at him, and is still watching you.

"Why would he need-"

"I don't have the answers to your questions, you have your job, carry it out like you always do, little bomb."

A hiss rises out of you unbidden, but he leaves the room before you can throw your cup at his head.

You're reminded again that you don't have your dagger, that you cannot use its motion to soothe yourself. That you have even less to keep you stable when his sickening voice and the chain around your throat reminds you of your role here.

You don't know what to say, or do. You've been ordered to kill, ordered to kidnap, but never ordered to protect. You have never held something in your hand you weren't supposed to break.

Instead you fiddle with the segments of your clawed hand, bending them, even though you cannot feel it. It is an unsuccessful method to soothe. Just a reminder that the limb is nothing but a weapon.

"Are you alright?" The voice is soft, and warm. Too soft and warm to be aimed at someone like you. You know you look irritated, you can feel it. The same kind of frustration Leon always brings you, but this one you cannot soothe down or pretend as easy. It's harder to pull down the mask for your work, when you're out there, on a job. Doctor Li indicates your fidgeting, and offers the smallest smile.

Flinching back is your answer, huffing as you pull back, "What do you care? I'm your prison guard, remember?"

He nods, hand going to his chin as he looks down at your arm, "Did you take care of the lightning burns?"

Turning your head away, you cross your arms to hide it, even if the carapace rubbing against your flesh is an unpleasant sensation. "What do you care?"

"You were injured in front of me, and I am a doctor. It's natural to be concerned." You look at him, peering into warm eyes that hold something you don't really understand. Concern? Worry? Most of the doctors and scientists look at your injuries with glee or disdain. Either an opening for experiment and tests, or irritation with having to fix a tool. "Have you seen a doctor?"

"One's in front of me. Real damned nosy." It's not as biting as you want it to be, too confused by the man. Was he just that soft that he cared about everyone?

'He takes care of stray cats.'

Glasses pushed up his nose, small smile on his face, as he checked a cat's paw. His eyes glitter, and he laughs at the little creature as it bats at the lens of his glasses.

'You're a worse patient than-' Static and trembling. '-they avoid my advice too.'

A gentle hand petting behind small ears, as the little thing is released, only to scarper off.

'Seems I haven't yet won the local cats over.'

'Don't worry Doctor Li, he's just going to tell all his friends about the best, kindest doctor he'll ever meet.'

Warm hand in your right, sensation of skin against metal, hair brushed back behind ear.

'Is that so?'

"Darling?"

You blink, shivering and pull back from him as he reaches out. Dodging his hand and biting down on your lip with fang to centre on the sharp pin prick of pain, to ground you back down to this world. This place.

If this continues you might have to see someone… to fix what is wrong with you. Remove the shades of things you do not recognise.

Free you from ghosts.

"Do you often care about your kidnappers?"

"I cannot say I've had any, other than you. So, have you?"

You didn't, you want to say. Because it doesn't matter. Your arm works, it is fine, and that is all that matters. You need to replace your claw, but that's not you, just a replaceable tool.

"I'm fine, my arm is fine." It's not a lie, though, you realise. Your arm does not ache, the burns have left their mark, the lightning scars up your bared skin are clear, but there's a sheen over your limb. "I-" You think of Caleb, there when you woke up the first time, the blood removed from your skin. The aid kit on your bedside. It's a discomforting feeling really, to have been cared for… Something to fear.

Something to reject.

A tool has to be useful, not reliant.

That small little voice hums, however, that you did not have to deal with your wounds yourself. For the first time, since you started avoiding EVER's doctors. With their tests, and their scalpels.

He seems satisfied enough, perhaps he can hear the honesty, as tinged in confusion as it is, or perhaps he doesn't care enough to push. No, that's not right. You're unnerved to think anyone can care about their jailor.

You don't care for EVER.

You don't have the luxury.

"Do you have hot chocolate?" The question floors you, for a moment, and makes you blink at him. He is sat looking at the cup in your hand, "I don't hate coffee, but I'd prefer something sweeter."

"Are you insane?" Escapes you without your conscious attempt to speak, but he laughs. Another soft noise escaping his throat, eyes crinkling just a bit around the edges, and you fight back the shiver. "You've been kidnapped, kept in a compound-"

"I'm quite sane, or at least, reasonably so. I'm thirsty, however, and tired. Sugar will help wake me up."

Your first impulse is to tell him to be more careful of his teeth, that his dentist would question that line of thought. The second impulse is that you don't care what he does with his teeth… the third one reminds you that he is kidnapped, and wouldn't be seeing a dentist anytime soon.

You query why the first impulse even reared its head.

"Leon keeps some." You manage, but your tone is short, and you stand quickly, hoping off the table to raid the cupboard where Leon keeps his things. You busy yourself, hoping that the focus of doing anything else will take away the feeling of being unsteady.

"I can make-"

"Stay." You snap, relieved when he settles back down, not willing for you to snarl at him again maybe. Better he learn like all the others, that you're a dog with a short leash. For a reason.

There's nothing he can gain from warm eyes, and a soft heart.

You shove the finished drink back at him, and he carefully sips it. "Not even a single check it's not poisoned?"

"You were told to keep me safe."

"And you just trust that?"

"You take your job seriously, don't you?"

You shrink back, he isn't saying it to be cruel, you can tell by the serious look on the man's face. He's watching you in the same way the scientists do, analytically, but there's no fear in his eyes, just careful observation. Like he's trying to piece you together.

Being seen by him, makes your spine tingle, and you can't tell why. "Just drink, Doctor."

"Zayne."

"Doctor-"

"Zayne."

You huff, "D-"

"Zayne."

Glaring at him now, you bare a fang, but he's simply watching you. Relaxed, and even, and steady. You exhale, and turn your head away again, forcing yourself to not pout. You're a weapon, you're a tool, you're not going to be teased by a Doctor. Before you even open your mouth to try again, he tilts his head, "We're going to be stuck together, you may as well call me by my name, it is not as though it is a secret."

Seconds pass, and he does not move, doesn't sip his drink, just watches you, and you finally growl, "Fine, Zayne." The smile you receive is very fleeting, but it burns into your vision all the same. Like he's actually happy, or you're worse at reading people than you thought.

You can tell he is watching you as you both drink, quiet in the lab you hate.

"So you're going to keep me safe? From what?"

Your sigh is all the answer you can offer him for a while, what indeed. He is in the walls of a compound kept secret, he is EVER's white whale for their experimentations, you suppose, with how much effort they put into him. What could there be to keep him safe from? He's valuable.

From himself? Do they fear he'll do something reckless to escape them?

"Everything." You finally settle on, "That's my job now."

"You're not thrilled by it."

"Are you?"

"It's…" He rubs the space between his eyes, out of the corner of yours, and shakes his head, "Not ideal."

At least he's honest. Morally upright, kind and honest. You're just waiting for the other shoe to drop now. To see what really lurks in the doctor's heart.

"Why did you start working for them?"

You glare at him, baring fangs in a snarl, but he just watches you. Like your bark has no bite, like you're daggerless. Perhaps you are. Ordered to keep him safe, you won't raise a hand until that order changes. Maybe he's smart enough just to look past the empty threat.

You haven't been muzzled before.

"You ask a lot of questions."

"It's part and parcel with being a man of science, I suppose."

"Keep asking too many, and you'll get shocked like a mouse in a maze."

"Speaking from experience?"

Your eyes narrow, and the gold glow glimmers over your scarred hand, a clawing feeling up your back, and in your limb.

He does not back down, but his eyes soften, and he looks at you like he needs something. Answers? "Did you ask too many questions? Did they hurt you?"

You snap teeth at him, the noise loud, harsh in the four walls of the lab, "None of your business." It's shame that informs you that your eyes are close to tears. That you are becoming emotional against your will. That there is a deep discomfort in your heart. Too many questions…

'Who am I?'

'Why am I here?'

'Where are they?'

Your hand moves to your chest, rubbing at the space over your twisted heart. To try to ease the agony.

"I'm sorry." He offers, looking at where you have pressed your hand, and the look in his eyes causes yours to ache more. Like he's in pain too. Like as much as he wants answers, they won't ever please him.

You think you know the feeling. Too scared to ask them anymore. Too scared to learn you've always been this thing.

"You ask too many questions." You manage to grind out, but there's no venom in it. You just feel exhausted again. "They won't make this better."

"No, but sometimes you can understand, and find a better option." Your laugh is so empty at Zayne's words, you watch his hand twitch. It reaches out, and then is pulled back. "Or understand the situation you've found yourself in."

"Your situation is bad, Zayne. That's all you really need to know."

He nods, "That it is."

As your heartbeat settles and the feelings subside, he speaks again. Soft this time, like he doesn't really want to, "He called you little bomb?"

The bristling is instant, but you can't blame him for wondering. The name has hung off you like a noose since you woke up. A reminder that you are a weapon. Leon's favourite little test subject.

"I figure it's my short fuse, that gained me that one." You snap, then flinch, then pull back. "I don't know. It's been his name for me since I met him." You rest your cheek on your hand, and force yourself to relax, to be more controlled. To stop showing every reaction, even if you don't feel particularly capable of it, "Most of them call me Unicorn."

"Unicorn-"

"You. You called me 'darling'." You watch him, as his cheeks colour a little. Try to pick out the feeling. Understand, and the question is on the tip of your tongue. Why? Like every other time you debate stepping over that line, reaching out to understand others, to seek out answers. You had managed with Caleb, before you didn't want to know anymore.

You had been there, on the precipice, of understanding the world before this place. If there was one.

Instead you'd gotten scared.

Ran away.

Like you do again, as you watch the expectation on the doctor's face. As he waits, for what you have to say or ask. Like it matters.

"Call me whatever you want, though I might not respond." Is the way you finish it.

You think of Philip and the questions you keep wanting to ask about why he's there.

You think about the red eyed man and the way he looked at you, and the questions of why he reached out for you.

You think about Leon and the question of why he calls you a bomb.

Where are they?

Questions don't have a place here. They will only ever result in pain.

Zayne does not smile this time, not a small quirk, or eyes softening. He watches and he waits a little longer, like you'll add more, but finally nods, "Unicorn."

It feels wrong, and you can't explain why. You hate it, you always have. It bites at you like fleas. Discomforting. It does not feel like yours, it never feels like yours. You don't know if you ever had a name that felt like yours.

'Kitten'

'Starlight'

'Darling'

'Cutie'

'Pipsqueak'

Static and fractures and broken space.

'Little Bomb'

'Unicorn'

'EVER's Dog'

Overlapping noise and indecipherable interference.

When the man in front of you, had called you 'Darling', he had been warm and alive. You had, despite the agony, felt some semblance of home from it. Something precious, and something that fit better than 'Unicorn'.

Now, the voice has cracked and bled into the cold white labs, and the empty expanse of reminders for where you belong.

It's stupid to believe you have lost something that you have never had. Running from things or breaking them so you do not have to face them.

Too scared of the ghosts that haunt on the edges, like always.

You cannot be more than what you are.

"Other than guarding prisoners-" Startles you up, and you see the hand extend for you again, before it is pulled back. Like he's reminding himself not to touch you, but it pulls you away from the cliff's edge, and back to the room. As much as you hate the lab, the fear of the unknown is worse. "What else do you do?"

"You're the first I've guarded, I mostly kill my targets." You speak, too honestly, curated control slipping out of your grip as the world rights itself around you, and you avoid analytical forest eyes.

He doesn't seem to know how to respond for a moment, "I mean, hobbies, Unicorn."

You blink, "You want to know… about hobbies?"

"It's prudent to know each other, if we're going to spend this much time together."

"Not at all."

He ignores you and forges ahead, "If I cannot ask questions about EVER, then I can ask questions about you."

"Those won't help you escape." You're incredulous. He's foolish. You make a note to ask Raincoat if he has ever guarded a target before, and if they're all as ridiculous as Doctor Li. You're already inclined to say no.

"I have no intention of trying to escape, on the way through I noticed that all the doors use biometrics to allow exit and entry, and I doubt my own would grant me access."

So he is as smart as you thought when you first caught him. Brave, smart, and foolish. Or reckless. Softhearted? Hard to tell. Zayne Li feels like a mystery you don't think you have enough time to solve.

"So if these questions are not a risk to EVER, which I assume is your main concern, then surely I can ask them?"

"I don't care if you ruin EVER's day, Doct- Zayne." He raises a brow and you shrug, turning away, "Look, I just don't know what you're trying to achieve."

"Understanding. Asking questions, to gain answers. To understand. You, my situation, and what I should do."

You wait, but he does not speak, and when you turn your head to him, he is watching you. Like he has caught a scent, and you are prey. Though, you doubt the man has ever willingly hurt someone.

Warm hearted, despite the ice EVOL, huh?

"I don't… really have hobbies." You finally manage, toying with your claw again. Tracing fingers over the grooves left from the lightning, and catching your finger on the sharp carapace. "I train, I do jobs, and I get tested on."

You refuse to look at his face, because you don't want to see whatever this man thinks of it. You can already imagine. What else are you to do though? There's nothing else for you. Well…

"Sometimes-" You tremble at the edge as you look down at the cup to your side, "I go to this cafe in Linkon. It's not often, I can't leave often. The coffee is good, sweet. Not… not burned." You think about Destiny Cafe staring back at you as you stand at the window, itching and desperate. Some days you can enter, grab a drink, maybe some cake, other times the feeling of losing all the air in your lungs, the panic clawing at you, pulls you away. You stumble back, and you flee.

There are some days, where you see shadows next to your reflection, or you are drinking, and you turn to say something, to people who aren't there. Because you're alone. You're always alone. Then you have to leave, wrong. Like you don't belong, like to be there isn't right. Like you're trespassing on someone else's space.

An interloper in a dream.

Very, very rare days. You enter, and for a short fragment of a moment, you feel as though you're meeting someone there. Like you'll open the door and a familiar face will say 'took you long enough', and everything will fit again. Like all the broken pieces will be fixed. No longer tangled and shoved under skin that does not fit.

You wait for that day to be a reality, that all it will take is that one moment and you won't need to ask questions anymore, because the answers will be there.

It's that small bit of hope, you think, that EVER would want stamped out. That small fragment of your heart even the core cannot touch.

Memories don't work like that, though. You looked Caleb in the face and nothing fell back into place. You were not magically fixed, there was no song of angels, or the call of hope. You were still just you, except now you had a reminder that you were irrevocably broken.

"Destiny Cafe?" You stare at him, truly stare at him as he smiles. You don't know what it means, but the look in his eyes makes you turn away. Cheeks warm.

"Yeah, they're good. Good drinks."

"The macarons are-"

"Really tasty." You swallow, you want to curl up and in on yourself. Like if you make yourself small he will stop looking at you. The heavy weight of the doctor's gaze, seeing into parts of you, you feel bad for showing, and even the parts you have not shown. Like he sees and understands, and comprehends beyond anything else.

It's not unlike the way Caleb had looked at you, like even the things you don't say, pieces you together in his mind.

You wonder absently, if you are less capable of wearing your mask, than you thought you were.

How can they understand you, when you do not understand yourself?

"I like the strawberry ones. If you go again, try those." You blink at him, but he's level again, steady. Like he's shaken off a power of foresight, and released you from his tower.

"I… Alright." You respond dumbly, maybe Raincoat is right, and you need lessons on how to talk to people. Maybe that would make this easier.

You'd only ever killed your targets, then kidnapped one, and now you had to spend time with one. Would it be easier if you simply just never engaged with him?

No, Doctor Li is stubborn, you can tell that much. You think he'd simply wear you down, or engage you easily enough, or trip you up with how much faster his brain works.

You haven't held a conversation with another person for months. The closest you get is insulting Leon, or arguing with Raincoat. In all this time, you had never actually conversed with someone. Even Philip, you keep it short.

Are you supposed to ask about his hobbies now?

No, he's just a job. You cannot look at him and see a person, you can't be his friend. You can't do anything that a person would do, because your orders could change. He could be added to the list, and this time it would not be capture.

Doctor Li, is a target, albeit one you have to protect, and that is all. Until the moment that changes, you just have to keep him safe.

It is a growling stomach that shocks you out of your thoughts, you look at the doctor, who blinks and looks at you. You look down at yourself, and feel the ache in your gut, a reminder you can only starve yourself so long, and the EVOL's burn up energy more than you're used to.

"We should eat." He offers, trying to hide his amusement. You very nearly throw your cup at him, but decide against it. You can purposefully miss, but on the off chance you dent his skull, you're sure Leon would start yapping at you like a tiny dog.

You think you like dogs, but you definitely don't like Leon, so the urge to kick him would be great.

"Sure, yeah. The canteen should be open. It's normally emptier later in the morning too." You stand, taking his and your cup to throw it in the sink. None too gently, but they don't break. "Let's go."

"Eating at EVER's compound, certainly an experience Sylus would find entertaining." You hear Zayne mutter, when you look over at him, he is brushing himself down, and righting the cuffs of his sleeves. Like the way he looks will matter to EVER.

Though, they will end up his colleagues, so maybe doctor's care about impressions.

Will?… Might. You correct. Doubting ever more that this man will sell his soul. If for no other reason, than you hope he does not. That his warm eyes mean something, where everything here means nothing. It's a stupid, pathetic little hope.

"The food's not terrible. They care enough about making sure their scientists don't drop down to malnutrition." It's about the only thing they have going for them, you muse. Not terrible food, to counteract the terrible people. "Sylus is the guy, with the red eyes, right?"

Zayne blinks, and his hand twitches, you watch. He hesitates and then nods, "Yes, that's him."

Red eyes and static…

You don't say what you want to say, that he smelt like flowers, or his eyes burned you were they met yours. You don't say what you really want to say, that you're sorry. That you didn't want to hurt him. He wasn't a target, but you couldn't risk failing. That you hoped he was ok.

There's no real fear in the doctor's eyes, like he knows that the man is fine. You don't ask, or offer anything. What value do regrets have in the hands of the person who committed cruelty?

"I'm sure he'd hate to be here." You manage, but it feels as empty as you do. A comment about a man you do not know, who has seared himself into your memory, just like the Doctor has.

You're surprised when Zayne laughs and steps over to you as you head to the door, "He would find this whole thing a challenge. One he'd aim to win."

If that's the case, you're a little sad he wasn't on the list to be captured. If he was so driven to fight and claw, then perhaps he would bring this whole thing down. Perhaps he could finally put an end to it. To you.

It would certainly bring with it a relief, a quiet you want more than anything. No more questions, no more static, and no more agony on the edges of your heart. Maybe then you could shake off this guilt for the pain you'd inflicted on a man with silver hair across his chest, and the man with red eyes. Who had simply been too in the way for you to step around.

Like that alleviated it, or made it acceptable.

"He sounds… fun." You half answer, opening the door, only to walk straight into someone's chest.

A hand steadies you at the waist, though you quickly pull back from the contact, and you go to hiss but falter when a flustered and red cheeked Caleb stares down at you.

It is then you remember, you did not wait for him, you did not leave him a note, so used to being alone, and you disappeared. It had been a fear of yours when you went into the shower, and came back out to see if he was still there.

It is a new guilt that bites at you and makes you feel small. Like a child, caught stealing, you think. Fidgeting.

"You're ok." He exhales, and places his hand on your cheek, which you do not fight off. Though the contact feels scalding on skin that is so unused to it. "Maybe next time, Pipsqueak, you can inform me of any movement, so I don't think my injured best friend has gotten themselves into more trouble?" His thumb strokes your cheek bone, through black gloves, but the heat is still an inferno.

You want to speak, to say sorry? To tell him you're an adult, that you don't need him watching over you? To do something, anything, to focus away from the heat on your skin.

It is not you who breaks the quiet though, it is the doctor stood at your back, "Caleb?"

You step back, to release yourself, and stare at them both, at purple eyes narrowing at widened green, at a smile on a familiar face that makes you feel a chill down your back, so at odds with the comfort it had brought before. When he speaks, his voice is steady, but undeniably cold, with none of the warmth it had reserved for you in his worry, "Hey Zayne, it's been a while."

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

october 3, 2021 2:00 p.m. morensong coffee house

[grant] thank you for meeting me so last minute.

[cerise] yeah, it’s no problem! actually, i'm glad we could do this sooner rather than later. this has been at the back of my mind for a while–the curiosity has–so when you texted me yesterday, i was, like, i need to know. i may be going out of town for a week, but i'll try to make room in the schedule for this before i leave.

[grant] are you traveling anywhere exciting?

[cerise] iceland. it’s a big family trip to celebrate my parents’ 20th anniversary. as in, my mom and my stepdad’s anniversary. i mean, he’s my real dad as far as i'm concerned, but technically my stepdad. i think you get what i mean, i don’t know why i'm over-explaining.

[grant] wow, that is exciting. well, i hope you guys have fun. i hear it’s just as gorgeous there as you think it is.

[cerise] anyway, thank you again for asking your–our, i guess; that’s still weird to say–dad some questions on my behalf. i'm sure that wasn’t easy.

[grant] i should warn you that it’s not necessarily a wealth of information.

[cerise] that’s okay.

[grant] there was a lot going on when i talked to him, and if there were other questions i could have asked…

[cerise] it’s okay.

[grant] i wouldn’t have been able to think of them, and now, uh, the line of communication is closed, so i can’t really go back and...

[cerise] i said it was okay, didn’t i?

[cerise] the basics are enough, and you already put yourself out for a stranger. if i want to know anything else, i'll find the right moment to get my my mom talk about what happened.

[grant] do you want me to just get right into it?

[cerise] whatever you prefer.

[grant] so, uh, essentially, my parents were attending a medical conference of some kind in detroit. they were still married then, but my dad was unhappy with the relationship. he met your mom at the conference, and then he had–as far as i'm aware–a one-night stand with her. she found out my dad already had a family, they agreed to not be in each other’s lives, and he paid her child support.

[grant] that’s what i know. i'm sure there’s more to it, but...

[grant] oh! right, “the more” is that there is a nonzero chance we have more siblings out there.

[cerise] huh.

[cerise] i'm almost surprised there isn’t more drama. that’s a pretty mundane story. a one-night stand with someone you know nothing about is the oldest story in the book.

[cerise] weird, i feel better now. my curiosity is sated. well, i am wondering how the affair even happened if your mom was right there and about the potential other children, but that’s a whole can of worms.

[grant] well, i'm glad you feel better.

[cerise] and the story does make sense. i always wondered if there was some big thing with the secrecy, but if it’s because your–our?–dad was a married man, i get it. my mom is a very good person with strong morals. i know her, and she would not want anything to do with someone if she were aware they were cheating and had a family, and she wouldn’t want me to have any business with them either.

[grant] she made the right decision to stay away. he’s unnecessary. your lives are a billion times better off without him. if you’re thinking, “how can he say that?” just trust me.

[cerise] i mean, i can’t be upset about it. i'm not sure what i potentially lost out on, but what i've had in life with my parents has been perfect or just about perfect, so i'm not going to question her choice.

[grant] you didn’t lose anything. not to say trust me again, but trust me.

[cerise] i'm sorry. this probably is far less of a flippant thing for you.

[grant] don’t worry about me. it’s all good.

[grant] i am just really glad you feel better, and i'm glad i could be of some use to you as well. it’s a lot easier to use me than your mom. i have never met her, but i'm guessing she’d prefer to just forget about all this stuff, and i hope she has.

[cerise] i was frustrated she wouldn’t tell me the truth, but i get it now. this may be a classic story, but it’s still, you know, an embarrassing one. if i found out my boyfriend were a married man tomorrow, i would melt into the floor and stay there.

[grant] anyway, i know we’ve been sitting here all of ten minutes, but i should let you go. once i finish drinking this coffee, i will get out of your hair. you have things to do–exciting things. go pack and travel and have fun and all that.

[cerise] hey, you don’t have to leave already!

[grant] no, i don’t want to take up your afternoon. at least no more than enough to tell you what you were waiting a few weeks to hear.

[cerise] i mean, i blocked out time to do that and talk to you generally for a bit.

[cerise] i don’t know how to go about all this, but i wasn’t planning on benefiting off your connection to your–our?–dad and then peacing out. i figured we could be acquainted, if nothing else.

[cerise] unless that’s too much for you, in which case, totally get it. no pressure. my existence must be weird for your mom and siblings. i'm assuming you have siblings.

[cerise] or maybe they don’t know. i also get it if you’re keeping this situation on the down-low. i can assure you that you’d not be alone in that. i'm not sure i could tell my parents right now that i know about my origins or that i've met my bio dad’s son. not yet.

[grant] definitely don’t do that before the big anniversary trip. but no, don’t worry about that either. i don’t have siblings. not anymore. and my mom...let’s not even go there. there’s nothing to worry about on those fronts.

[grant] it’s not that it’s too much, basically. i have zero problems with you, and i have no family left who would have a problem with you either, so.

[grant] i just don’t want to be in your way, not today or at any point in the future, and i will be. you don’t need my dad around; you don’t really need me either.

[cerise] i don’t care if you are, honestly. you are my brother. that feels weird to say, but you are, and you haven’t done anything wrong. i'd like to know my brother.

[cerise] this is maybe the only regretful, i don’t know if that’s the right word, part of all the secrecy and the way i came to be. i get along with my step-siblings. what’s wrong with getting along with the half-siblings? or half-sibling?

[grant] i should have also warned you i'm kind of in a dour mood entirely because of my dad. sorry. not because of you or this whole thing, though, to be clear.

[grant] i wanted to meet to get all this off my mind so i have no other reason to think about him, hopefully, for the rest of my life. i'll be in a more conversational mood soon-ish, once i'm done thinking about him.

[grant] this is going to make me wishy-washy. i don’t want to be in your way; i don’t want to be a source of awkwardness in your family if they ever know you know me, but…

[grant] okay. i wouldn’t mind getting along with my half-sibling. maybe we could meet up when you have time again.

[cerise] yeah, i'll text you. i might be busy for a while with work when i'm back from my trip, but…

[grant] text me anytime. we’ll figure it out.

[acupofinkedblood]

Medkit and adventurer reader [Be Careful, Again]

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Medkit won’t claim that he’s the most patient doctor ever in Inpherno, but with how much he has to put up with a certain adventurer whose brain is as large as a weirdly mutant grape — in which it might seem a bit bigger than its own kin somewhat, but nonetheless, it’s still the size of a goddamn grape — such as Sword, he’d gladly accept that title to pay up for the endless groan he has to bite back every single moment the young man comes to him

“Try to be careful next time,” he’d sigh, “You haven’t paid the bill you owe me last month”

“Well, that might be a bit of a toughie- But I promise that I will remember it next time I’m back home!”

“Sure you do”

As much as he hates being a doctor, at least he takes this job seriously. It’s not like he can refuse whenever Sword needs his aid anyway. He always has a bit of a soft spot for this guy like how one would view an annoying younger brother. Sword probably mesmerizes his lecture about being reckless and all by heart at this point being since that’s mostly what Medkit usually brings up for conversation with him. But then again, that’s still debatable because Medkit doubts his birdbrain can ever remember the details of his nagging. Well, Sword is just Sword, and that’s something he can’t change. Best to learn how to get used to his presence to make things easier, right? Another thing is that Sword does pay him to do so. For someone who has to bathe in a bucket, who is he to ever refuse a bit of extra bux? It’s still a hassle though, to deal with Sword’s injuries and stuff

One Sword is definitely enough to be a pain in the ass, so imagine how Medkit’s jaw would have dropped when this stupid young man decided to have the goddamn audacity to drag another person to his place and asked him to heal them. Safe to say, Medkit almost choked on his coffee when that time arrived earlier than he would have expected. Rocket doesn’t count though, that’s a whole different story

Not because he was stunned because Sword technically banged his apartment’s door down, but rather out of spite because of the nerves this adventurer had. When he announced that you’re his new companion for his adventure trip, Medkit wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to cry at the news. Hell, he’d probably need a smoke break if you and Sword share a brain cell - which unfortunately for the doctor, his worries aren’t misplaced

You are technically another headache that the up and beyond decided to throw directly into his face, as if Sword alone isn’t a nuisance to deal with already, now he has two idiots to keep an eye on. With how much he has to treat Sword after each adventure, he dreads the idea of you will be the same way that boy is: Too naive and too reckless. It’ll just add up to his already occupied backache served with a side of the distress when he will have to worry about you two’s safety in case he also tolerates you like how Sword manages to worm into his life without a warning

One would say that being dragged by your companion to a stranger — who he claimed was the best doctor ever, a bit unconvincing but then here goes nothing — after you got yourself in a not-so-pretty mess all black and blue isn’t the best first impression that one could think of. But hey, it’s not like you can do anything about it. Before you have the time to object, Sword already threw you over his shoulder and rushed back to Crossroads. He brought you to this certain doctor who he trusted so much

It’s predictable, but that’s your first impression of Medkit: Looking at Sword with a frown that’s basically saying “You definitely have some explanation for me before I drag you down by the horns” as he unconsciously reaching out for the distinguished cigarette in the ashtray again with that expression which you can only describe as if he’s about to gasp then faint dramatically in offense like in medieval times. To respond to that, you can only grin out of confusion as you watch the man goes through five stages of grief within a few seconds

Sword, being the lovable idiot that he is, chimes in to ease the invisible tension without even aware of his eye twitches due to annoyance

“Don’t you worry about the bux, Medkit! We can take care of it next time when me and my pal get our stuff back”

“Wait, by that, you means..?”

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind me and my buddy dropping by more often in the future!”

Oh yes Sword, yes he does mind when the two of you decide it’s a brilliant idea to assign him to be your official caretaker out of nowhere. Though he does get paid to do so, at least have some consideration for him when having to deal with two idiots at the same time, no? And the fact Sword just trusts people so easily that he thinks it’s completely fine to bring a stranger to the doctor’s doorstep, it’s questionable. Sometimes Medkit has to question if Sword’s naivety is a blessing or a curse, and then he comes to the conclusion that Sword’s kindness is just genuinely too stupid to even understand

And that marks the start of Medkit having to involuntarily take another dumbass of an adventurer — no offense, he meant it in a lightheartedly way, probably? — under his wings

It does take quite the time before he grown a better tolerance to you like how he did with Sword. You can’t really tell him to just let his guard down when he barely knows you in person, right? Even when after that first meet, Sword does fill him in about your entire character in details so he can be less worried. But Medkit knows Sword longer than just any average Inphernals do, and he knows that this guy was too caring for his own good sometimes. It’s easy to impress someone like him, and that paves the perfect path to gain his trust. Yet Medkit isn’t that easy to get through though. He has to be certain that you will possess no potential harm to him first. Sword can trust you from the start, but Medkit prefers to play it safe

He originally meant to keep a distance with you unless Sword is there to force the circumstances of which requires his aid, even when he suspects that you’re barely younger or a tad bit older than Sword, this man can’t just go ahead and be comfortable around you immediately. Can’t blame him though, if you have known the trauma he endured since the very beginning before he first reached the warm embrace of the sunlight

But then again and again, you keep showing up in front of his door whenever you can’t bear the pain no more. During the few first times, Sword has to drag you to Medkit because of your stubbornness that insists that you’re fine even when it’s obvious that you are far than just ‘fine’. That has been going on for long enough, even with your companion’s reassurance that surely the doctor won’t be bothered of your appearance — Medkit, however, was still holding his neutral yet ready to get defensive attitude when it comes to you — you still get cold feet when thinking of how you will have to see that unpleasant expression of Medkit again as if you were a burden

As much as Medkit prefers to put up that nonchalant facade alongside with the infamous aloof attitude, he still has some underlying concern for others hidden behind that tough exterior he built by himself. Seeing you like that doesn’t sit right to him. You act as if he’s a boogeyman haunting the children’s hospital and steal other young patients’ candies. Sure, he might look a bit unapproachable, but surely not to that extent, right? Being asocial as he is, Mekdit doesn’t really mind at first. But as he noticed just how tensed up you are as if you tried to be on your best behavior in front of a strict adult — and it’s already multiple times despite Sword’s presence to ease it up — he isn’t having it so far. At least if you are being dragged here for him to treat your wounds, then all he asks is that you for you to stop being such a wreck like he is about to eat you alive. Have some trust in his professionalism even when he doesn’t actually have a license and calm your nerves down, damn it. Your demeanor catches his attention enough to forget that whole thing of keeping a distance. Because then again, as Medkit thinks about it, what can you possibly do? He doesn’t know you well enough to determine whether or not you are a bad apple, but since you manage to be friends with Sword, he might or might not assume your intelligence based on that decision of yours. The point is, he soon comes to his senses that you will bring no harm, as he hasn’t noticed any ill intentions coming from you based on his observations for a good while

That realization does the both of you quite a favor. Medkit takes it easy on you, not keeping that intimidating glance to urge you to keep your distance anymore. It’s a positive change, even when it’s a tad bit subtle as Medkit doesn’t seem to be the type to show his emotions well. In his mind, he has already shown his tolerance to you. Whether you can pick it up or not is just a matter of time, and hey, you’re probably going to have a tough time trying to recognize the change of attitude coming from Medkit. It’s not that clear as he thinks it is after all

Regardless of that, you soon find yourself to be less anxious at the presence of the doctor. Mostly because of Sword’s reassurance rather than Medkit’s attempt to appear less hostile to neutral, but hey, that’s still a win for each side. Medkit is a man of few words, you have figured it out. But he does have this certain sense of humor which is even dryer than a sunburned fish which makes you feel less anxious. Most of those are sarcastic remarks, yes, but he means well. Medkit doesn’t mind if you respond to his sarcasm or not, though after a few attempts of trying to do so, it’s actually not that bad. He doesn’t bite after all, as long as you know your manners

As a fellow adventurer, danger is always present during your journey. Getting injured is a normal thing at this point. Yet unlike before, you two have a medic in which you can turn to this time. Sword used to have to drag you to see Mekdit, yet now you already have the courage to seek him out on your own without it being against your will. Your visit to Medkit has a high frequency from that day. Sometimes it’s you who have to pull Sword by his cape to meet Medkit, oh how the turned table. It does take quite the time for you to achieve that sort of inner strength, but since Medkit doesn’t really mind as long as you still pay him in times, you just decided to roll the dice at this point. Aside from Sword, you have become a regular patient knocking on his apartment. He does let you off if you can’t pay him just yet, probably transfer it on Sword’s bills. But hey, his company isn’t actually that bad. You soon grow fond of the doctor’s company, as sometimes he also provides you a couple of good advice coming from his experiences too. Medkit is like that standoff type of a trusted adult, you know you can turn to him whenever you’re at a tough spot. He might sigh aloud as a little protest, but you know he still cares. At least he tries to

“Medkit, we’re back!”

Medkit looks rather unamused as you make your way into his apartment while carrying a smiling Sword on your back. The two of you really share a brain cell, that alone should explain the similar smile you both keep on your faces even when it’s obvious that you and Sword look as if you two just survive an explosion. Rubbing his eyes in mild disbelief, Medkit can’t help but groan

“What did you two do this time”

“Well,” you grin, “Just the typical thrill of the adventures. Although, Sword sprained his ankle, I think?”

“And?”

Medkit keeps his gaze on you, waiting for you to report your own condition to him before he has to check it out himself. You can still walk on your own, which is better than the swordsman on your back. However that doesn’t mean you’re any better when it comes to physical injuries. You do notice the judging look on Medkit, and as a response, you can only sigh in defeat. Hiding things from a doctor isn’t the wisest move, you know? You don’t go and see a medic while bringing a huge basket of apples from the avoiding-my-problem garden, Medkit will probably shove an apple in your mouth if you dare to do so. An apple a day keeps a doctor away after all. There is no point in beating around the bush, so you just mumble quickly under your breath

“And I might or might not been stabbed in the stomach-”

Medkit literally facepalmed himself on spot when you say that. He almost drags you by the horn and lecturing the hell out of you. Why do you think it’s a good idea to carry someone on your back when your wound is barely patched up? You could have lose more than just blood! But then Medkit holds himself back since there is a high chance that Sword will be fallen off your back and then things will just get even more messier. And he is too poor to even acquire a new good attitude for the day, so he’d rather avoid spending on unnecessary change of broken stuff

If Medkit has a bux whenever he has grown to care for an idiot of an adventurer that just hopped into his life with no warning, he will have two bux. Which isn’t a lots, but it’s weird how it has happened twice. That’s being said, you managed to achieve his tolerance. Congratulations! Although it’s not much of a privilege, you do have someone new that cares for your well-beings in the very moment. Just don’t die on him, Medkit genuinely think he can’t take that shock

Another day, another oddly peaceful moment in his own apartment. The day has been going slow for the doctor ever since he decided to hide away from his fellow cultists at Crossroads. The cult hasn’t contacted him just yet, though Medkit can’t seem to get used to the unusual tranquility just yet. He feels like he has been walking on eggshells as far as his memory can travel. It’s infuriating, how much of a tight spot his life has been cornering him. Putting the book down before distinguishing the almost burnt out cigarette in between his fingers, Medkit relaxes his facial expression slightly as he stares into nowhere. Peace, he has soon forgotten how peace actually feels like ever since his life takes a left turn with that rotten bastard. Sword’s unannounced appearance alongside with you does distract him from his worries slightly. You two are just pipsqueaks in his eyes no matter how tall you get physically, and before Medkit knows it, he already looks out for you two like how an older brother would. He cares for Sword, he cares for you. Medkit won’t have it another way, at least in this vulnerable moment of his mental

Then again, as if getting too sentimental on one’s own is forbidden, because Medkit almost flies off the couch when the sudden bangs against the door suddenly knocks out of the blue which indeed ruins his very own rare moment of silence in his mind. His eye immediately moves the front door where the sound occurs. His body tenses up slightly at the possibility of who can be there. For a good moment, Medkit keeps his mouth shut for his own safety. He prays to whoever up there that it’s not anyone from the Cult of True Eye, because then his life will probably take another dark turn if that even happens

“Medkit! Medkit, are you home?”

“Keep your voice down! And you’re poking my wounds man!”

Wait, that’s just his idiots’ voices. Two of his idiots who are just kids in his eyes, to be specific. Two of his idiotic adventurers who he views as his younger siblings yet at the same time also the harbingers of headache whenever they come to visit him, to be even more specific

Medkit lets out of a deep sigh in relief. At least it’s just them, not anyone else. But with how urgent Sword’s voice is, he probably shouldn’t be too happy just yet. If Medkit isn’t hearing things, then your voice sounds as if you’re in pain. That’s definitely not a good sign. Damn, his horns will probably turn gray soon because of the two of you. The doctor immediately sits up from the couch then makes his way towards the door to open it up. And just like he expected, you two are even louder when there is no door serving as an obstacle to muffle the sound

“I told you I’m fine! It’s not like I’m about to die there,” you grumble as if you’re about to bite your companion’s head, “You’re basically dangling my body damnit!”

“I’m just worried, you look like everything but fine!” Sword protests, “Plus it’s not that bad. You don’t let me carry you after all!”

“Are you two done?”

It’s comedic how the two of you immediately stop bickering when Medkit’s annoyed voice breaks it out. At that moment, the doctor decides to look over to the state of you two. Sword looks fine somewhat compared to the questionable state you are looking now. SFOTHs above, you look like you just got revived from death

None of you or Sword dares to speak up even more. But your eyes already say enough for Medkit to understand. Though before that, as the doctor glances over to how Sword is currently carrying your arm around his neck, he frowns as the position is definitely not comfortable for you at the very moment at all. He offers his arms, carefully yet firmly taking your damaged body from Sword before shoots the swordsman a warning glare

“That’s not the way for you to carry a patient,” Medkit scoffs as he holds you, “You might as well break their arm while you’re at it”

Sword looks down like a guilty puppy that is just accused of something bad. But Medkit knows him, he will get back to his sunshine and rainbow state soon enough. It’s barely noontime, and the two of you are making a fuss in front of his apartment. All he wishes at the moment is for no one to make any complaints because that will just make things worse in Medkit’s situation. You and Sword combined can be way worse than a newly-bought speaker sometimes. In another sense, it can be pretty annoying

The doctor shoots his glare back at you, but then quickly closes his eye with a deep exhale to calm his own nerves. He can’t help but mumbling a few curses before putting on his no-nonsense business face. He can’t really take his irritation out on neither any of you, he knows better than that. In addition, you’re also hurt, so it’s best that he takes you inside for proper treatment first

“Come inside then,” he gestures you both to enter, “Let me have a look. And Sword, close the door too”

Thankfully, the wounds aren’t anything too serious aside from a few scrapes and bruises. A part of Medkit is relieved because he won’t have to treat any broken bones today, which means you’re still smart enough to a certain extent to avoid such misfortune during your little adventure. For someone with such a stern face, it’s quite the pleasant surprise when you figure out he can be rather pretty gentle while treating his patient. Or to be specific, you. Medkit makes sure that everything is alright with you, asking you if the bandages are too tight or telling you to take it easy when he cleanse the cut. He does take his job seriously after all, don’t be so dumbfounded. Time passes by with Medkit carefully dressing your arm up in silence. Out of the blue, Sword decides to break the ice by start to ramble on what happened to keep the doctor on updates even when no one asked him just yet. It’s the thought that counts

Turned out the two of you were playing the heroes. Spotting a group of bandits in the outskirt of Lost Temple, jumping in to fight them because of the convincing argument being ‘bad guys have to get their butts kicked’ — Sword’s words, not his — and then as expected, you claimed the victory after dragging all of them down to the nearest police station. You might or might not have let your tongue go a bit too far while taunting those bandits, which pushed their buttons away too far. One thing that none of you can foresee was how one of the thieves managed to break free, and the first thing the bastard decided to do was charging directly at you. The intention was as clear as day: If he had to go down, he would go lower by bringing another life with him. Of course, it caught you off guard. Sword interfered in time before the criminal could pull the trigger of his gun which was aimed at your forehead, yet it did give you quite the fright, no? Not to mention how he did put up a good fight against you when you were distracted too, so it was understandable when Sword had to bring you to Medkit. It wasn’t fatal, but you looked like you were dragged all over the hot sand by a cart - can you blame Sword for being a worrywart?

Medkit could only shake his head as the tale is finished. Why is he not surprised anymore at this point?

That’s definitely something the you two will do: Risking your own safety for this confident sense of justice no matter the cost. Personally, Medkit can’t understand it. He can’t understand you or Sword, maybe he’s just a coward. Though one thing about Medkit is that despite not giving a damn about this whole interfering in other’s business with high and mighty attitude — he can’t even look out for himself, let alone meddling in other’s business — since that’s just straight up asking for more troubles upon his own self, he isn’t exactly heartless. He still has some people that he genuinely cares about in his own way, like you and Sword. Hell, the two of you are certainly a package deal of an once in a lifetime’s kind of hassle, but the doctor is used to it by now

“Sword, go to the kitchen and get me a some ice. Then come back so I can check up on you as well”

At Medkit’s words, Sword stops fidgeting with his cape before nodding slightly. It’s best to keep Sword pacing around, since Medkit learns that making Sword sit still with nothing to do while he is treating you will make the swordsman rather uncomfortable. Sword has too much enthusiasm stored inside his body which makes him similar to a ball of energy, and no one in their right mind should try to tie that ball down into one place. So when Medkit tells Sword to go and find what he needs, you do see why he does that. Slumping down to be comfortable on the sofa, you avert your eyes from nowhere to his face. Medkit doesn’t look at you directly in the eyes just yet, though he does speak up while he is cupping your face to push it aside just to check if there is any wounds left on your head

“What did I say about this?”

By ‘this’, he means the lecture he goes over and over again about you being reckless while you’re traveling around with Sword. Though technically speaking, you don’t see it coming since the bandit charged directly at you when you least expect it. But please pardon him, his doting is just a slight facade of care he uses to make himself clear in front of you. That’s just how he is, as the idea of caring about your safety like a mother hen doesn’t sit right with him. Emotion isn’t his strong suit, keep that in mind. Call it tough love is not wrong at all, but hey, it’s not exactly that tough

“Well,” you sigh begrudgingly like a disobedient child, “Always keep an eye on my surroundings, never put my guard down and be prepared for the worst…I know, I know”

“Very well. Keep that in mind next time then. But it’s good to know that there isn’t any serious potential risk, or else thing can be much more complicated”

He lets your head go after a good moment of examining it in a meticulous manner. Medkit was about to make a sarcastic remark at how despite there is no sign of brain damage, you still seem to unable to comprehend his words despite repeating it all the times. Though upon looking at your sulky expression, he decides to take it easy on you today

“I’m glad that you’re safe”

“Huh?”

Medkit’s words catch you off guard as you look up in surprise. Your ears aren’t playing tricks on your mind, although it’s just a quiet murmur, you actually hear it word by word. The doctor already plays it off casually as he looks to the other side mindlessly, as if his words earlier were simply but a gust of wind passing through. Believe it or not, he actually feels embarrassed when saying that aloud. Usually his thoughts will be kept to himself, yet seeing you like that does make his shoulders less tensed up. Because you’re fine. That alone is everything he wants to know at the moment. Will he repeat himself to your amusement? Definitely not a chance. But of course, you heard it loud and clear. He was worried for you, even felt relived when acknowledging that you’re alright. It brings a sly smile on your face. It’s not often that you have the chance to witness Medkit being soft, it’s definitely something to be proud of, even when the said moment is rather rare to catch

Mekdit can read your thoughts, no, it’s not exactly thoughts when it’s literally written all over your face. That growing grin of yours only adds up to his theory. He immediately clicks his tongue as a mild gesture of protest since he knows that you’re not going to let him get away with that

“Don’t you dare,” he warns, “You hear nothing”

“But you do care!”

“One more word of that and I will be charging you double”

“Oh c’mon! There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” your laughter causes Medkit to physically groan, no hard feelings though, so rest assured, “You’re like a mother hen, you know?”

When that sentence is said by you, Medkit cringes at the mental image when he’s like a babysitter for the both of you like a mother hen. He can cringe all he wants, but there is no point in arguing because he does act like a doting know-it-all parental figure to you. Once again, emotional aspect isn’t Medkit’s specialty, so he doesn’t really know how to comfort others or what comes with it. Yet in your eyes, you realize that he does it in his own way. Not with sugarcoating words or gentle pats, but with a reality check to keep you on your feet. Sometimes with guidance too. Not to mention how he tends to your wounds no matter how much he acts like it’s a bother to him. Maybe you don’t know Medkit enough to know him inside out, but you do understand his characteristics to a certain extent in which you can be sure when saying that he actually worry for you

It’s actually sweet, considering how stoic Medkit makes himself to appear in front of others

“Is this enough ice?”

Eventually, Sword comes back just in time to see you smiling proudly on the cough while Medkit is resting his hand against his forehead in defeat because of how cheeky you have been acting. Though when he sees the amount of ice in Sword’s has hands, he facepalms himself to drag his own mind back to reality. Medkit gestures Sword to sit down. He attentively picks the ice up from the adventurer’s hands to move it on the coffee table instead. Ripping a small piece of bandage to make a small cloth, he places one of the ice pieces inside then wraps it up carefully. Without another wasted moment, he turns back to you with the wrapped up ice in his hand

“Keep this on your cheek,” Medkit presses the ice against your face until your own hand reaches up to hold it, “Keep it there, I’m going to check on Sword now”

You chirp a sound of positive acknowledgment to Medkit. When he turns away to tend to Sword, you can’t help but look at your companion. You two share a brain cell after all, even when it’s just metaphorically. But Sword already knows what are you thinking at the moment, hence the smile quickly appears on his face. You title your head to get in the way between Medkit and Sword with a shit eating grin much to the doctor’s surprise

“Can we get some juices after this?”

“Ugh, again with that childish drink?”

“Hey! It’s not childish,” you disagree with a lighthearted giggle, “You’re no fun, Medkit!”

You and Sword both laugh aloud at Medkit’s response. Childish, that’s what he always uses to describe you two. Medkit just shakes his head once again as headache number one — which is Sword — and headache number two — of course, you — look at him expectantly with that smile of mischief. What did he get himself into again? He should really charge the two of you extra as the babysitting fees in the future. But for now, he simply huffs after flicking your head first to push you aside

“You two are impossible”

Whether Medkit agrees or not is up to your skill of negotiating, that means you still have a chance to bound with him through that silly request of yours! A win is still a win, but his answer still remains a mystery as he has to focus on taking care of Sword’s wound. This noon’s tranquility might be ruined by you two’s appearance, but it’s not necessary a bad thing. If anything, Medkit is not upset with it. It’s just you after all. You do keep his mind distracted from those bad thoughts. And even when he doesn’t say this out loud, he’s glad that everything is still within control

But most importantly, he’s glad that his idiots are still safe and sound, enough for them to laugh it off like this

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Note: Out of the blue, I’m carving for something sweet and refreshing in the middle of the night while writing this ♪(´ε｀ )

[everythingseasoning]

Caleb and the MC - a taboo, deep & chemical bond.

Look, Caleb was a brother before he was a love interest. I heard that the English version sanitizes the original story’s nuance. In the Chinese version, it’s made very clear that their relationship is taboo (according to other people, as I don’t speak Chinese)

I think it’s quite apparent from the very first scene in Ch 04 that Caleb is so deeply comforting and brotherly. He’s somebody the MC can rely on to look out for her. At other times though, the bond between the MC and Caleb is incredibly chemical. It’s electric. It’s childhood friends to lovers, mixed in with forbidden love because they’re freaking adopted siblings.

But my god, I love it. I’m not into the incest kink. And this isn’t quite incest, though it’s seen as taboo. Personally, I think that at their bond’s core, Caleb and the MC have this unbreakable, solid foundation of devotion and care for one another. They know each other better than they know almost everyone else. Maybe they weren’t always in love with one another, but they admired and cared for one another from the very start, and at the very least they grew to appreciate one another all the way to another level of depth. They basically said, “I choose you. Over, and over, and over again. I choose you.”

Maybe Caleb was never her lover in a past life, idk the details of that, but just like Zayne and Rafayel (and maybe Sylus, idk, I’m a beginner LADS player lmao)— Caleb is living his life in order to be with the MC. To find her, have/cherish her, protect her. He’s as intense and devoted to her as all the others are.

My personal thoughts? I don’t know if I want to be with Zayne or Caleb. I dreamed about and need the kind of love that the MC has with Caleb; I want to be loved unconditionally, protected, safe to be small and cared for. I never had that. I was on my own, emotionally, and I noted and fought against that from a very young age (I’m talking 7 years old). But choosing Zayne is like… choosing to be your own person, and having a different kind of safe and caring partner, rather than getting caught in a web of obsessive devotion. God, I just. Don’t know.

[rainderthesomeone]

Hot take and possibly controversial opinion…

I think chapter 4 left a lot to be desired, there are still a lot of plot holes regarding Leith peair, Stella and all others responsible for this, Pianosaurs was underutilized, the Yarnaby section was crammed together and very scripted, the Doctor was rushed to the side very quickly, it just feels like there was so much left out and I find it hard to believe everything will be resolved in chapter 5 unless that chapter is going to be 5 hours long XD

Pianosaurs should have been bigger and should have had his own boss fight a short one that was rhythm based with the clashing of keys signaling different attacks, and when he’s weakened enough Doey comes in and eats him that way we can see how ruthless Doey can be.

Yarnabys section should have been more tense and creepy in my opinion.

Huggy showing up was an interesting plot hole, and cliffhanger, Chapter Four for me is alright, great story, just a little rushed and filled with some poorly scripted segments…

Now to the meat and potatoes of this post, Harley aka the Doctor, the man who helped in the creation of the bigger bodies project, the man who actively tested on kids and felt no remorse, the man who actively thought his experiments were flawless as well as the procedure of it all, is working with the prototype? For a egotistical and narcissistic man as him that felt out of no where, zero mention or leading up to it at all, just offhandedly mentioned by Doey and Ollie felt very lazy and forced, personally I was hoping for him to be his own operating entity and not connected to the prototype, Poppy literally says to us in chapter three that Catnap is the last obstacle the prototype has for us, I mean I guess she didn’t know the doctor was still alive or around but Doey and Ollie do so how come there was no mention of that prior?

Im probably being very nitpickey again this is indie horror and its not the most refined of content sine half the audience is children who only watch brain rot videos of it, but mob set up a very good and renewed starting point in chapter three, for chapter four to be slightly mid at best with it’s gameplay, it felt like we were heading in a good direction for poppy playtime to take over Bendy’s spot since the new games meatly is making are in development limbo, once they come out they will probably be bangers.

Anyway back to the doctor and all the other segments that should have gone in a better direction.

Mob should have had the Doctor as this slightly antagonistic hermit character, a man who thought he was in disposable for playtime co, a man who thought he had all the cards in his hands, to be blindsided and tossed out and shoved into a monitor to only be used for information, would probably be more reclusive and agitated as well as tired, he wouldn’t be a ally nor a good guy since there’s no way to excuse all the horrible things he’s done, but he wouldn’t have a side either, his trust and loyalty to others would probably have been destroyed, he wouldn’t be killed off either, think of Glados by the end of portal 2 she just wants us gone, this version of Harley would be the same, he just wants everyone gone and to stop pestering him, plus it would leave him open for any possibility’s of coming back, and maybe there would be some development for him, especially for the prototype, he wouldn’t admit it but deep down he regrets its creation and sees it as the failure of man kind some kinda Jurassic park what have we done shit.

He would very much operate like Glados, throwing things at us to see if they’ll kill us, leading us to things that can probably kill us, once he sees no way of getting rid of us he begrudgingly slightly helps us get us to his location while also continuing to try and kill us, basically some very confusing morals, and then the big boss fight would play out differently how I’m not sure yet, but the doctor would give us an option, shut off his life support system aka his brain, killing him and taking the Omni hand, or spare him, the sparing route would give us a longer chapter and segment with him, he wouldn’t give up his Omni hand but he would show the player how to make there own, it’s a fetch quest pretty much with the Doctor leading us and guiding us to the materials we would need to make it, there would be some banter with him talking to us, messing with us, like Glados destroy enough of his cameras watching us he’ll respond with “You know I can still hear you right?” Do it enough and he’ll stop watching us and or talking to us, leave the cameras alone he’ll drop some lore and secrets, eventually we get the pieces to make the Omni hand and we’re free to leave but not without him chasing us one more time to frick with us, game resumes as normal.

That’s the interpretation I was hoping for slightly, mob has there reasons for underutilizing him, he’s not the main villain he’s just a fun extra character.

I just wish we could have seen more of him oh well.

Here’s my take on what I was hoping for him to look like. Brain in jar works and makes sense but object head was a fun and different design from all the other toys and entities we have run into.

Thinking about writing a fan fic on this interpretation of him…would like to see one? Or is it to cringy?

Welp I’ve yapped long enough back to watching YouTube for the rest of the night lol

What were yall hoping for chapter 4 to have been? What are some things you think could have gone better?

[paingoes]

(long Paris apologia paragraph ahead sorry)

I love both Delta and Paris, and while Delta is infinitely more likable and I have more in common with Delta re: autism and child abuse, I honestly find Paris to be a more compelling character? (Part of this is because I'm also an alcoholic with complex trauma and I so very rarely see the worst parts of my trauma being represented in a sympathetic light.) I definitely get why people don't like him. he's a violent shithead, a menace to society and himself, not to mention he has the emotional intelligence of a rock.

You mentioned this in a previous post but I think you did a really good job with showing that a lot of Paris' worst qualities (his violent mood swings, his sense of entitlement, his power tripping abusive behavior etc) comes from a place of his own patheticness and refusal to change (especially the times when he breaks down after getting too drunk) and I think that's what allows me to sympathize with and like him more then anything. His childishness in his most monstrous and vulnerable moments really drives home that he's not really suited to the role of all powerful monarch he was raised to be, and who's abuse and status in the empire caused him both to grow up way too fast, while at the same time never allowing him to develop into a healthy adult and that he's in many ways, a kid in a grown person's body who sees himself as doomed to repeat the cycles of his childhood trauma that created him unless he chooses otherwise. (A horrifying and daunting task for someone like him)

Like the scene where he breaks Delta's arm and almost drowns him? It's scary as hell but what stands out to me it despite the horrible violence and long term consequences of his actions, is just how petty and childish his motivations for doing so is (which does not make them any less harmful). he's acting this way because he feels slighted and abandoned by Lorelai. You hurt me I hurt you. This gives me a lot of leeway into both sympathizing with him as someone with similar struggles while also reminding me that he's not the way he is because he's powerful, like he wants you to believe, but a very weak and jaded person who wants to feel powerful and is given the systemic means to. Which doesn't make him less dangerous.

Sorry for the long ask, I'm just very much enjoying your story, especially Paris's "being humbled by life" arc and I'm super excited about what will be in store for both him and Delta next ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

oh my godddddd this was such an amazing thing to wake up to. i kind dont even wanna post it i just want to hold onto it forever. this is so sweet.

i dont know if i can respond to all of this right now and i might talk more about the different points you brought up later. but generally i am so pleased with this analysis and im pleased you have gotten this much out of it? im gonna say more under the cut

pretty heavy warnings for child abuse. nothing explicit just discussion of institutional child abuse/complex trauma and how it affects people psychologically.

like i said i could talk about them basically forever but re: childishness and being pathetic. YEAH i mean i think it is very obvious that paris’s growth has been stunted as a result of abuse + neglect. in fact i think that growing up in empire alone is inherently stunting because it is a system very much designed to kill empathy and to breed hunger and greed in people. its a problem with the whole society, cruelty and selfishness are incentivized over developing more complex moral structures and even over developing your own identity.

[ people like lorelai are very much an outlier within Empire, but i think its clear that she is….also pretty immature? she has a lot of love and a desire to do good, which kind of makes up for it, but she is childish in the sense that her parents sheltered her and her own ideas about revolution and utopia are very very idealized. i think this delusional optimism is a good thing for paris tbh and it kinda balances out his own cynicism. but lorelai will need to grow up at some point too. its just her reckoning is allowed to be softer. ]

but paris’s case was particularly bad for a few reasons.

the most obvious is that he was prince and naturally the expectations placed on him were a lot greater and the consequences for not meeting them were a lot harsher.

paris was born with pretty severe ADHD and mood regulation issues and his symptoms only worsened the more that he was punished for them

paris at his core is a genuinely sensitive and intelligent person that understands right from wrong

and i think this alone provides a lot of context for how he is now but it also makes it easier to understand why his childhood was basically torture for him. like yeah exposure to complex trauma will kind of naturally stunt your growth at certain points but you also get the sense that paris’s growth was like. deliberately stunted or that the handicap was self-inflicted. paris acts dumber than he is. its how he makes peace with it. its cool to be a callous idiot because if you have to be a self aware and moral person in this environment you will immediately get one-shotted by guilt.

and for what it’s worth i think delta’s growth was also — obviously — stunted. but in a different way shaped by their respective roles.

it’s legitimately really gross for me to describe it this way but it does feel like one of the goals with delta’s conditioning was to make a forever-child. someone who will do what you say and remain perfectly ignorant and docile and obedient. he can be used but is basically incapable of putting up a fight. martino and simon both speak to delta like he’s a child and that infantilization is to keep him pliant and similarly trapped in that same sense of helplessness he felt when he was little :(

i think delta is very low empathy naturally and actually doesnt have an innate moral compass which is what made him such a perfect candidate for the job. but it also means he is super susceptible to getting someone else’s morals imposed onto him as long as he finds them logical and coherent. his ability to morally reason and his way of interacting with people is obviously very underdeveloped but its more immediately obvious why.

ive said before that i think delta is more emotionally mature than paris but i think maybe this paints an incorrect view of things? i mean. delta is not holding his tongue and regulating his own emotions because he thinks its a mature thing to do. hes doing it because he knows not to speak without permission and that if he ever had an outburst the way paris did, he would be beaten within an inch of his life. so i feel like maybe its wrong to attribute this as one of his virtues. (without totally discounting the fact that delta is very sweet and doing his best.) delta would very much struggle with like. setting boundaries, standing up for himself in any way, communicating his feelings. you can describe paris as childish but i think delta is childlike. in that he’s also suffering the consequences of abuse but his specific conditioning has made him more fawny in a way that reads as sympathetic and virtuous.

basically yeah my point was. they were both stunted at some critical point in their development and are both dealing with the consequences of that. paris was a victim but he was simultaneously groomed to be a perpetrator, versus delta who is mostly victim.

anyway thanks so much wow im gonna print this whole ask out ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

[rollercoasterwords]

i rember seeing you update your tags with memory loss and my heart dropped lol it’s always been one of my biggest fears and you mercilessly explored it (and specifically how it affected relationships) and it was terrifying and beautiful and wonderful

the way you write memory loss haunts

me i love your writing so much im in awe and uh have a wondrous day 😭

hiiiii thank u yeah i have. many thoughts about memory loss clearly lol

i think in general part of what compels me is that i feel as though there is a very prevalent message that we should think of life as a linear journey through time, moving from past to future, and also that the meaning of life is evaluated in ways tied to that linear concept of time--i.e., the idea that death is a fundamentally more important experience than most (if not all) other moments of life, because it is temporally at the "end" of a linear life cycle. & this is something i explored in thtf bc i wanted to push back on & question the presumption that death is necessarily any more important of a moment simply because it's the last moment we might have, & i wanted to explore a concept of life in which moments happening at different points of time are not necessarily ever "over"--those moments have always happened & are always happening somewhere in the fabric of the universe...basically thtf was me exploring how things might change if we break away slightly from life measured by linear timelines.

ANYWAY lily's story arc in worm moon is kind of a similar exploration. i think one thing that people find really frightening about this kind of memory loss--which was based around early-onset dementia--is the idea that you are losing these moments when you can't remember them, and also becoming unmoored from your linear temporality. your life is no longer a straight & predictable line from past to present to future; now the past interjects on the present, times get tangled up, etc. & again i wanted to explore the ways in which that can be painful but also the idea that a life unmoored from memory and time does not necessarily preclude joy & love & everything that people generally find makes life worth living; yes, lily losing her memory of her son is painful, but that doesn't mean the moments and the times she lived with him go away. they aren't lost or eroded because they didn't exist only inside her memory or her mind, y'know? the past is always happening and the future is always happening and the present is always happening all at once, etc...or maybe it's not! who knows! but just because we tend to perceive reality one way doesn't mean other perceptions of reality are necessarily less real.

& with sirius's experience of memory loss--there are some overlapping themes, but also different stuff i wanted to unpack & explore. i wanted to write a character going through the trauma & frustration & loss of feeling as though an important piece of past & memory had been stolen from him, and how that blank space can leave a hole inside you, and you can spend so much time trying to fill it--but at the end of the day, sometimes memory is just gone. sometimes it was never made correctly in the first place, and you end up with a hole in your life. and so often in stories about that kind of traumatic memory loss what i've seen is a narrative where there's an eventual restoration of memory that fills in the hole and allows the character to finally move on. but i wanted a character who has to come to terms with the fact that this specific, acute kind of memory loss is permanent--there is no healing of the hole, there is no patching over it, you just have to learn how to be a new person around it because you can't go back to the person you were before it, because that person is no longer you. and you have to learn to live with a trauma that you can't even name. i think that's a stumbling point for me with a lot of narratives i've encountered about trauma: oftentimes, they rely very heavily on finding ways to name & explain that trauma as a means of healing from it and coming to terms with it and moving past it. and if you have a traumatic experience tied to memory loss, or if the memory loss is the traumatic experience, then it's not really something you can "come to terms with." you just have to accept that something happened to you or your body or however you think of that person you can't remember and you'll never fully know what it is; you'll never get to sit down and watch a movie of the memory that says "this is the Truth and this is What Happened and this is why there's a hole inside you and you have nightmares about things you can't remember." anyway i think i'm just rambling now & not explaining this very well lol it's easier to just write what i want to say through these characters yayyyy fanfiction let's all clap & cheer etc

[tommyssupercoolblog]

I... honestly don't like this???? It seems to lump betas together with alphas as like, better treated than omegas when betas are basically erased. In my eyes the way betas are treated in fics and even in Omegaverse writing and lifesttle spaces themselves is much more like nonbinary or even intersex people. People pretend they don't exist and only mention them when necessary. Society often acts like betas aren't there at all. Writers don't make beta characters and when they do they're sidelined and written out to focus on the "real" meat of the Omegaverse. A lot of stories don't even HAVE betas in their world building at all?!! With all of this in mind, betas wouldn't be treated as "alpha lite". They'd be treated with medical malpractice and scorn by conservatives, seen as anomalies. They might be asked what their "real" dynamic is because being a beta would be seen as more of a disorder than a real gender, or just get a "huh..." And then the person trails off, or a "I've never met a beta before!". Id also imagine transitioning from alpha or omega to beta would be seen as odd and some would say they're basically still cis, like the treatment of nonbinary people. They'd also fall outside of relationship norms be default because you can't be in a straight alpha/omega relationship if you're NOT AN ALPHA OR OMEGA.

Of course anyone can worldbuild however they want and they don't have to treat betas as a minority but I honestly don't understand the urge to just make them Alpha 2 or "Omega but sterile". And the lack of any gender roles or expectations for them in fics falls in line with the way they're erased from society, they don't get their own special quirk because they "aren't supposed to exist" in the eyes of the power.

Yes intersex people would still exist in Omegaverse outside of just beta (unless you just made beta a word for intersex people, one to one, full stop) but they're treated so....invisibly. while some betas might be conservative I feel like they'd be the equivalent of gay Republicans, few and far between and trying to gain acceptance by sucking up to assholes because they're "not like the others".

I also feel like I'm biased on this because I'm in the misce community and the alpha-omega relationship normativity is...a lot, but also so is the erasure of betas. It's assumed you're an omega or alpha, seeking or mated to the opposite dynamic. And that's REAL FUCKING LIFE. The misce community is real whole ass people with real whole ass gender identities and THEY treat betas as an afterthought. Betas are by NO MEANS alpha lite in that space. So while fiction isn't reality and you don't have to write based on what miscefolk are doing, it still makes it feel more odd to me when people write betas that way.

Idk just wanted to share my thoughts

Omegaverse Political Parties

Ever wondered if there could be political parties in Omegaverse? Well, I've come up with some based upon my own worldbuild of Omegaverse! Feel free to use in your worldbuilds, with credit! These are US-based only as I am only aware of the government of the country I live in.

Real Alpha Activists (RAA) - an ultra-conservative party that has been around for a significant amount of time. Their numbers are steadily growing as more conservative Alphas wish for the progressive nature of the United States to end and return back to the “Old Way”, where Alphas are at the top and everyone else must listen to them. They are considerably unpopular, but definitely loud.

Beta Rights Coalition (BRC) - a centrist party that cares about rights and tribulations of the population of Betas only. They seek to put Betas in higher power seats, such as in the Executive branch.

Common Equity Party (CEP) - a progressive party that seeks for all classifications to be equal to one another, no matter what it takes. They have a tendency to push Omega candidates to the forefront for high political stations. They happily oppose the RAA as much as possible, and lobby to prevent any conservative laws pushed by the RAA from being turned into actual law.

Freedom from Designation Party (FDP) - an anarchist party that seeks to dissolve the classification system, believing that it has brought on more problems than helped. Believes in freedom from classifications and treating everyone equally as a result.

Designation Democratic Party (DDP) - a center-left party that actively opposes the FDP in that it wants to maintain the status quo of classifications, and more government say on how classifications should remain equal to each other.

Patriotic Egalitarian Party (PEP) - a center-right party that also actively opposes the FDP, the PEP prefers the hierarchy system they have now, as well as limited federal government contribution into the discussion of classifications and who runs what.

Wanna read more of my worldbuild for Omegaverse? Check it out here!

[1doesnotsimplyhavejust1fandam]

Half questioning my memory of the post s4 era, half side eying a certain character, so correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think there was ever a time when the Buddie fandom fully took the single “Evan” from the season 4 finale as Eddie receiving “Evan” privileges from then on. From my recollection, fics stayed mostly consistent with their uses of “Evan” by Eddie, perhaps just with an emphasis on important moments (love confessions, Christopher’s adoption papers, wedding vows, NDEs, etc.) after the finale. And I had to stop myself from wondering why that is because I know why. We all know. Because nobody wanted to use “Evan” in fics when Buck had just told his parents that people who know him call him Buck. So Buddie fandom heard that, accepted it, and uses it only sparingly. In canon and fanon, even Maddie only rarely uses “Evan” anymore, and it feels even less common for her to use post-Buck Begins (if at all, actually). So the fact that Tommy and BT fans tend to use “Evan” (at least, this has been my experience) is so utterly jarring. Buck told everyone his preference, and I believe LFJ has spoken about being told to use only “Evan” when referring to Buck, so I simply do not understand anyone who believes that BT is in love already or endgame. Yes, it could go the “Buck gave Tommy ‘Evan’ privileges off-screen” route, but then why push it off-screen? It would be a major allowance made for a new love interest, and a significant step in Buck’s character arc. Yet we see nothing of the sort. So why would anyone believe that’s what happened? The last we heard, Buck had told his parents and everyone else to call him Buck exclusively, with the minimal exception of Maddie (who was, for most of his childhood, his one and only lifeline and confidant). That sort of history and characterization is not ignored if there is not something very wrong with the writers’ room. It was not even ignored by a significant portion of the fandom post-season 4, although Eddie gaining permanent “Evan” privileges would’ve been a strong indicator of a Buddie endgame (had an on-screen explanation of Eddie gaining this privilege been released). It was not ignored, and it did not change the nature of Buck in fic nor fanon. So why in hell is the same not holding true for a brand new relationship like BT?