#oxy universe

[voidofthearchive]

mg would wrap them in random paper she found, theirs ominous stains on half of them and they're held together with scotch tape and sheer willpower.

scarf would spend a bunch of time picking out the perfect paper for that specific person and wrapping it up neatly but in a way that easy to open still. the type of paper you carefully unwrap to save for next year.

hunter would use the clingiest santa wrapping paper every to embarrass her family and make florist/emerald happy.

emerald would try and his hearts is very very clearly there but there super super messy and kinda dented.

florist would have the neatest gifts every, and have flowers shoved everywhere as well.

oxy cuts out the paper and tapes it to the side of the boxes. it tried following a wikihow article but couldn't get it.

red dosent wrap his gifts he just gets nice boxes because he dosent have any sort of fine motor control.

eris spends forever drawing all the paper emself and always always puts bows on everything.

cy dosent wrap gifts just shoves that at people, threatens their friends and lively hoods, and runs away. girl is allergic to compliments and will bite.

prince gets the silliest gifts and makes sure that unwrapping them is super fun. like having the box me a hollow pink flamingo.

What do gifts wrapped by your OC look like?

[annieraccoons]

Mi diseño de los Nightmares genderbent!

Deuz-Midnez🤎

Maggie-Mang lee❤️

Oxy-Roxy🧡

Onnie-Ann💙

[undertale-writing-times]

"luxury seat"

On the nightmare aus

I had such a hard time with this for some reason...

Nightmare: It would shock him. He has no idea how to react! For once, he would just stare at you, a look of confusion on his face. Why the heck were you sitting on his lap? “Y/n, what are you doing?” he gently moves you off, his cheeks feeling hot under the goop. Good job, you embarrassed him.

Oxi: All of the eyes on Oxi’s tentacles would turn to focus on you. It is… confused? More questioning exactly why you were sitting on its lap. Were you comfortable? It does not think that it would be very comfortable to sit on… ah, no matter, whatever. It doesn’t really mind you sitting on its lap, it would just put its arms around you loosely. It is amused.

Gloom: They tense when you did that, staring at you with a big socket then they click their teeth together, “What are you doing?” they’re panicking. They’re embarrassed. Their tentacles are shifting and curling around faster than normal. You’re going to break them.

Envy: He would make a soft oh sound, before laughing. He moves his arms around your waist, leans back in his chair, and rubs your hips with his thumbs, “Well then, Y/n, how forward of you. Is there something that you need?” He found this pretty nice. He loved it whenever you sat on his lap.

Delusion: He jolts at first, and his eyes widen looking at you, blushing hard, “Y/n, what… what is this for?” His tail was wagging so fast. He’s excited but mostly confused about why you decided to just randomly come and try to sit on his lap. Was this like… for a reason or were you just doing it to do it? Ahhh!

Nightfall: He would have to pause and stare at you for a moment, then he gets a relaxed smile and he moves his arms around your waist, “Did you want a nap?” He wouldn’t mind if you wanted to take a little rest against him… he is silently panicking though and very flustered haha. 

Shade: Honestly, he would most likely be the one to sit on people's laps haha. He's very light and pretty small, so it might be better to do it like that ^^'

Moonlight: It does, for sure, startle him but he just laughs lightly, "Oh good morning, Y/n." He moves his arms around your waist and nuzzles into your neck, letting out a happy hum. He needs to be careful with his eyepatch, not wanting it to move. He seemed very pleased.

[knightnicole]

You go take your starter and this is the prof. Pokémon that welcomes you. What you do?

Rei just can't accept he has a really big crush on Oxy 😔😔

Drawing a friend's Sonic OC into a Pokémon OC 😭 I like how Oxy is turning out ;w;

[drfirsnogayny]

Reblogging art with my characters who's still alive

Depression kindergarten

@drfirsnogayny

I have a headache…

[takamiwife]

Got sick and can not stop coughing at all and yhe worst part is my period started the same time rip

Could i request a lil comfort thing for hawks or dabi comforting the reader who is sick and also feels even worse cause she has rlly bad cramps?

AWW I HOPE YOURE FEELING BETTER :(( sorry this is likely out after you’re all better but this still deserves to be written !! if you’ve submitted something to my inbox dw, i have seen it and it’s in my drafts, im just going in order!! 💞 also, there’s some sex and the city spoilers toward the end of it, for season 3, so just watch out for that if you’re watching it/interested in watching it!

well, sick season was back and hit you full force. you woke up, your throat feeling like it had been scratched by a thousand cats and your nose stuffed. you groaned, your voice barely coming out above a whisper. you shuffled out into the kitchen, nearly passing out from reaching up into the cabinet to get some tea.

“baby? are you okay? you’re up early” keigo yawned, following you out into the kitchen

all it took was for you to turn around, looking at keigo; tired, darkened eyes, puffy cheeks, and your body being able to stand.

“jesus, you definitely are not,” he frowned, putting a hand to your forehead. “you don’t feel like you have a fever… here, come on, sit down,” he guides you over to the couch, watching as you slump against the comfortable throw pillows. he hands you the remote and moves back into the kitchen, immediately making you some tea — you never seemed to have an appetite when you were sick, but hopefully you could handle this.

after adorning your tea with honey, he moved back to the couch, placing them in front of you, replacing the throw pillows with his own body as you lay on his lap.

you whimper, holding your stomach; as if everything else wasn’t bad enough, the universe decided to curse you with cramps too.

he stroked your hair, using a few of his feathers to retrieve the pill bottle from the bathroom, not wanting to move from his position. he opened the red-capped bottle, tapping a few pills into his hand. “here, cmon, you can sit up for me right?” he coos, helping you sit up and make sure you toon the pills, hopefully to at least help with the pain. “there we go, that’s my girl” he smiled

“don’t you have work?” you say quietly, moving your head back down to his lap.

“i can be a little late, they can manage without me. don’t worry about it, alright?” he said softly, running his hands along your side.

now, had you woken up with dabi, it would go a little different.

you lay in your shared bed, surrounded by his scent, but your boyfriend was nowhere to be found. he had been out all night doing.. god knows what with the league, and you had woken up with all of the worst symptoms imaginable. you scrolled on your phone, praying he’d be back soon so he could help you.

luckily, something listened, as he cracked the door open, trying his best to be quiet; a surprisingly sweet gesture from him when he was out all night on missions.

“shit, are you okay?” he kneeled in front of you. “you look awful”

“thanks for the reminder,” you say through a stuffed nose. “my throat is on fire, i can barely breathe through my nose, and of course i have to have fucking cramps..”

“well.. hey, at least you aren’t pregnant” he shrugged

you glare at him, a small part of you finding the silver lining a bit amusing

“can you.. help me, please? you know, like a good boyfriend?” you hide your smile

“uhh…” dabi trailed off, playing with a strand of your hair. of course he wanted to help, he just.. didn’t really know how. he didn’t really get sick, and if he did he just popped whatever pill was in his cabinet and said fuck it and continued on. “yea.. what do you want? we’ve probably got a whole stash somewhere - xanax, percocet, oxy, if you want something a little stronger.. uh, a little coke might not hurt, just rub it on your gums”

“are you insane?” you stare at him blankly. “do you just have, like.. tylenol? midol? anything like that? and not.. crushed up and in a line. in pill form”

“yea, yea, let me go check. pussy..” he muttered, shooting you a smirk.

you used your little strength to smack his arm, unable to hide your smile.

after digging around under his sink, he was finally able to find some normal, non-hard drug tylenol.

he returned to you, holding onto your side as you sat up, taking the pills with a swig of water.

“you uh.. really don’t feel good, do you?”

“you couldn’t tell?” you ask through your scratchy voice.

as you lay back down, he looked at you, your eyes closing as you groaned. he tried to remember back when he was a child; there was a short period of time where he got quite sick during the winter, and his mother was nothing short of a saint. cartoons, warm soup, medicinal tea, cool wash clothes on the forehead.. the whole nine yards. it was clear that what you needed right now was him, and he was more than willing to give that to you.

“c’mere..” he shuffled beside you, pulling you onto his chest. “are you.. hungry? do you want anything warm? that’d help your throat, right?”

“not right now.. just wanna sleep right now..” you say into his chest, and he pulls the warm blanket over you, kissing your head as you fall back asleep, finally sound and able.

now, as you fell back asleep on keigo’s lap, he knew he couldn’t ignore his work any longer or they’d have his head on a spike. in an indiana-jones style move, he replaced his lap with a pillow, draping a blanket over your sleeping form. he kneeled in front of you, watching you sleep as he kissed your forehead.

“i’ll be back soon, okay? i’m sorry i have to leave..” he whispered, brushing some hair away from your face.

luckily, with the day being quite boring, within about three hours of working, he was able to convince his side kicks to take over for the day; “you guys can handle this, i have a sick girlfriend i need to take care of. i mean, what horrible things are going to happen, it’s a random tuesday.”

back at home, you stirred back to life, the pain now having subsided a decent amount. you reach for your phone on the coffee table that sat beside your tea, clicking keigo’s contact. he picked up rather quickly, his voice being a comfort on the other line.

“hey my love, finally awake huh?” you could hear his smile through the screen.

“yea, i just woke up”

“ah, well your throat sounds a bit better. how are the cramps?”

“um, a lot better.. sorry to make you late, but i appreciate you staying with me”

keigo chuckled

“they were fine without me, love. actually, i just left them”

“what? but-“

“but nothing. i’m on my way home, want me to get your favorite?”

you sit up, smiling. “…if it isn’t too much trouble”

“i figured you’d say that. i’m already on my way there. i’ll see you soon, okay?”

“okay.. i love you”

“i love you too”

still being held in dabi’s arms, you slept surprisingly soundly despite everything. he slipped out of your grip, making sure you were comfortable before going to the raggedy kitchen downstairs, searching for anything that could make you feel better. but he was doubtful the crumbs in the dirty cupboards would help much. so, with no other choice, he put on his hoodie and a mask, pulling it up over his nose, less likely to be recognized.

so, after walking a few blocks to the nearest convenience store (that also happened to have a deli), he returned home with your favorite soup, a box of tea bags, and an ice cream bar for you to enjoy later if you felt better. after placing the ice cream in the fridge, he made a nice warm cup of tea (thanks to the help of his quirk) and brought that, along with your soup up to the room, setting it on the bedside table.

“hey,” he shook you gently. “i got you something.”

“mmh.. you’re supposed to let sick people sleep.” you whined.

“fine, go on and sleep, but your soup is gonna get cold”

you opened your eyes; okay, you were quite hungry now. you reluctantly sat up, placing your back against the wall.

“there she is,” he grinned slyly. “morning sunshine” he said, handing you the cup of soup with the plastic spoon. “and there’s um.. tea, too.”

“wow, you really went all out, huh?” you smile from over the cup.

“of course i did. it’s for you, after all.” he brushed it off.

“well, thank you honey.” you coo, gently scratching his chin. damn, he loved when you did that.

he sat beside you, occasionally accepting bites of your soup.

“if i get sick from this, you’re so dead” he

“you’d love me taking care of you, don’t lie”

“…fair enough”

within about forty five minutes, keigo had returned home, takeout bags in hand as you paused your show. he placed them down on the coffee table in front of you, unpacking them.

“thank you, kei. i mean it, really. you didn’t have to do all this.” you say, smiling at him as he came back with plates for the two of you.

“what do you mean? of course i did. i love you, and you didn’t feel good, so of course i had to help you feel better.” he said, placing the food onto a plate and handing it to you.

“well, still-“

“still nothing,” he cut you off, leaning toward you. “you take care of me all the time. this was nothing compared to all you do for me.”

your heart swelled as you stared at his determined face.

“now, catch me up. what’s going on with the girls?” he gestured to the tv.

“well, carrie just cheated on aidan with mr. big…”

after a few hours of lazing about and watching your favorite show on dabi’s phone, he returned to the room with his hands behind his back.

“i got something else for you, too… figured since you’re feeling better..” he pulled out the wrapped ice cream bar, holding it out to you.

“oh, baby..”

“i know it’s not the best, but it could help your throat feel better and.. i dunno, you like ice cream, so..”

you sit up on your knees on the bed, pulling him into a hug.

and as you enjoy your treat, he sits beside you.

“so, feeling better?”

“much. thank you, doctor.” you tease.

“well.. good. i don’t like seeing you like this.”

you lean your head on his shoulder, holding your ice cream up to him.

as much as he hated seeing you sick, dabi loved taking care of you for the day. of course he wanted you to feel better, but.. he wouldn’t mind another day of holding you in bed.

[estellan0vella]

Sunshine's Guide To Murder│Lee Minho

Chapter Thirty Five: You’re Too Good SS: 6 (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 5.7K Content Warnings: Car accident, abduction, Hayun being cruel, talks of drugs, rape and guilt, talks of addiction, arguing

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Hayun, Jisung, Jeongin, and Felix sit sprawled across the couches in their living room, energy drinks scattered on the coffee table amidst a mess of open laptops and hastily scribbled notes. The room buzzes with the hum of electronics, the occasional sip from a can, and the tension that’s become an uninvited but persistent guest.

Jeongin leans back, eyes squinting at his screen. “Okay,” he starts, dragging the word out. “So Yeji’s murder? Officially backpedalling. Priority one is figuring out who’s targeting you three.” He gestures vaguely at Hayun, Felix, and Jisung, his energy drink held precariously in his other hand.

Jisung nods, scrolling through a list of names on his own laptop. “Right, so far, here’s the list of potential assholes: San, Seonghwa, Wooyoung, Yeosang, Hongjoong, Yunho, and Jongho. Mingi’s frat brothers from five years ago.”

Felix glances up, his fingers poised over his keyboard. “Uh, guys?” His voice is tight, and everyone looks at him. “Hongjoong? He’s Mingi’s lawyer. That’s motive right there. To shut us all up.”

Hayun taps her pen against the armrest of the couch, her brows knitting together. “Only if he was involved in Mingi’s drugging and raping scheme. We’re assuming they all were. What if they weren’t?”

Jisung snorts, leaning forward in his seat. “Come on, Hayun. They had to have known. That shit was happening in the frat house. You don’t live with a serial rapist and not notice something’s off.”

Hayun gives him a look, but before she can respond, Jeongin speaks up, his eyes glued to his screen. “Seonghwa’s been off the grid for four years. Right around the time Yuna died and Mingi left Seoul National. His family even put out an appeal, but the police found no sign of foul play.”

Felix groans, rubbing his face with one hand. “So, we’re either looking for a recluse or another dead body. Great. Why can’t criminals make our lives easy?”

Jisung points at him with his energy drink. “Exactly! Like, can’t one of these assholes just drop a confession in our laps?”

Hayun sighs, her tone patient despite the rising frustration in the room. “Once again, you’re assuming guilt, Ji. That’s dangerous.”

Jisung shrugs. “I refuse to believe they didn’t know Mingi was a serial rapist. I don’t care how blind you are, that’s too big to miss.”

Hayun sets her notebook aside, her voice calm but firm. “So, maybe they were willfully blind. That doesn’t make them guilty of a crime.”

Jisung gives her a pointed look, his voice dropping. “Hayun, do you remember anything from that night?”

The room falls silent, the weight of the question pressing down like a lead blanket. Hayun takes a deep breath, her eyes distant. “I saw Lia, Mingi, and Yuna. None of the others. The last thing I remember before passing out is Mingi raping me.”

Jisung’s jaw clenches. “That might just mean they didn’t want to go after a fourteen-year-old girl. Doesn’t mean they’re innocent. Just means they’re not pedophiles but they still might be rapists.”

Hayun’s gaze snaps to him, her tone sharper now. “You can’t go in assuming they’re guilty, Jisung. That’s how mistakes happen.”

Jisung throws his hands up, exasperated. “Mistakes? Someone left you a fucking doll and a message in pig’s blood at the university, then sent you oxy, and then bricked our goddamn windows. Excuse me for not wanting to see the best in people right now.”

Hayun exhales, her shoulders slumping slightly as the tension in the room thickens. Felix reaches over and rests a hand on her knee, his touch grounding. “He’s just scared, Yunnie. We all are.”

Jeongin, who’s been quietly watching the back-and-forth, adds softly, “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

Hayun nods, her expression softening slightly. “I know. It’s just- We need to be careful. If we start assuming guilt without evidence, we’re no better than them.”

The door to the house swings open, and Chan, Minho, Seungmin, Hyunjin, and Changbin step inside, arms loaded with bags of takeout. The smell of fried chicken and tteokbokki wafts into the living room, but the welcoming aroma does little to cut through the tension hanging heavy in the air.

“What the fuck is going on in here?” Chan mutters, his brows furrowing as he stops short, taking in the scene.

Hayun and Jisung are standing toe-to-toe in the middle of the living room, their voices sharp and loud. Felix is sitting on the edge of the couch, his hands raised as if in surrender, while Jeongin sips calmly on his energy drink, his expression unreadable.

“You’re being an idiot!” Hayun shouts, her voice cracking slightly. She’s trembling, but it’s hard to tell if it’s from anger or hurt.

“And you’re in denial!” Jisung fires back, his face flushed with frustration.

Hayun narrows her eyes, crossing her arms. “Denial?”

“Yeah!” Jisung shouts. “You don’t want to admit to yourself that there might have been other people who fucking knew and didn’t help you!”

Hayun’s voice drops to a dangerous quiet, her words slow and deliberate. “And you,” she spits, “are just feeling guilty because you know your dad abducted me and your fucking sister is the reason I was raped.”

The room goes so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Felix’s eyes widen, and he looks between the two of them as though weighing whether to step in.

Jisung’s face twists, his voice rising in a raw, unfiltered snarl. “So now I’m fucking responsible for my family? Is that it? Maybe, just maybe, you shouldn’t have agreed to go to that fucking party! Then you wouldn’t be a fucking addict who can’t resist a couple of pills!”

The slap echoes through the room before anyone can react. Hayun’s hand trembles as it falls back to her side. Jisung stumbles back a step, clutching his cheek. His eyes blaze as he glares at her, the air between them crackling with tension.

“I do feel guilty for the pain my family caused you,” Jisung says, his voice cold and clipped. “But you- you’re the one who turned to drugs instead of getting help. You did that, Hayun. No one else.”

Hayun’s lip trembles, but her tone remains sharp. “And it took you five fucking years to notice! Some best friend you are.”

Jisung throws his arms out, his voice rising. “You hid it, Hayun! I’m not a goddamn drug detector! You never told me shit! You went to him!” He spins, jabbing a finger at Minho, who looks startled but doesn’t say a word. “You ran to the first guy you could find and spread your legs for him!”

The group collectively flinches at the words. Chan mutters, “Oh, fuck no,” under his breath, but no one moves to intervene as the argument spirals further.

Hayun’s cheeks burn red, and her voice shakes with a mix of rage and hurt. “You have no idea what I’ve been through. Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I wanted to end up like this? You weren’t there for me, Ji. You left me to fucking drown.”

“You didn’t ask for help!” Jisung shouts. “You didn’t give me a chance to be there for you! You ran off and kept every fucking thing bottled up. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“Not blame me for my own trauma!” Hayun shouts back, her voice cracking. “You think I wanted to be a fourteen-year-old rape victim? You think I wanted to be addicted to something that made it easier to forget?”

Felix tries again to interject, holding up his hands. “Guys, come on, this isn’t helping-”

“Fuck off, Felix!” they both yell at the same time, their voices almost drowning each other out.

Felix’s mouth snaps shut, and he stands, looking like a kicked puppy. “Right. Cool. I’ll just- Yeah, okay.” He shuffles out of the room, rubbing the back of his neck. Changbin follows after him, muttering something about not wanting to be collateral damage.

“You act like you’re the only one who’s suffered,” Jisung spits, his voice raw with emotion. “Like you’re the only one who’s ever been through shit. Newsflash, Hayun, everyone’s fucked up!”

Hayun’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, but she doesn’t back down. “Yeah? Well, not everyone has their best friend throw their trauma in their face. Not everyone has to listen to the person who’s supposed to care about them tell them it’s their own fault.”

Jisung’s jaw tightens, his voice dropping to a low growl. “And not everyone runs away from the people who care about them the second things get hard. You chose to leave. You chose to shut me out.”

“Because you wouldn’t have understood!” Hayun shouts, her voice breaking. “You don’t understand anything, Ji. You never have.”

“Then make me understand!” Jisung yells back, his voice cracking. “You never fucking tried, Hayun. You just gave up. You gave up on me, on yourself, on everything.”

Hayun takes a shaky breath, her fists clenched at her sides. “I didn’t give up. I survived. And I don’t owe you or anyone else an explanation for how I did it.”

The tension in the room is suffocating, and everyone else sits frozen, takeout containers untouched. Jisung glares at Hayun, his chest heaving with anger as he shouts, “Hayun, the perpetual victim, can do no wrong. You frame someone for murder, and we all go along with it because, oh, poor Hayun can’t handle her own shit!”

Hayun’s eyes blaze, and she jabs a finger in his direction. “Jisung, the fucking idiot who only cares when it suits him! Too busy questioning whether Hyunjin wants to be his boyfriend to give a shit about anyone else! You don’t get to stand there and judge me!”

“I always fucking cared!” Jisung shouts, stepping closer to her, his voice cracking. “But you confided in your boy toy and not me! Five years, Hayun. Five years I knew something was wrong. I asked you over and over, and you never fucking told me!”

“What would you have done, huh?” Hayun shoots back, her voice shaking but fierce. “Fought Mingi? Turned your sister in? You would’ve done what exactly, Jisung? Tell me!”

“Yes!” Jisung yells, his tone cutting through the room like a blade.

Hayun lets out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Bullshit. You would’ve folded the second it got hard, just like you always do.”

“Folded?!” Jisung looks at her like she’s grown another head. “You’re fucking delusional. All I’ve ever done is try to help you, and all you’ve ever done is push me away. I’m sick of it!”

“Help me?” Hayun scoffs, her eyes brimming with angry tears. “All you ever did was feel sorry for me, Jisung. And I didn’t need your fucking pity. I needed someone who actually understood!”

Jisung throws his hands in the air, his frustration boiling over. “And you think he does?” He points aggressively at Minho, who stays rooted in place, watching the exchange with a clenched jaw. “He swoops in, and suddenly he’s your knight in shining armour? Give me a fucking break, Hayun. You’re just using him to feel less broken.”

Hayun’s voice rises, trembling with fury. “You have no fucking idea what I’ve been through, Jisung. None. And you don’t get to stand there and call me broken when you’ve been too busy hiding from your own shit to even look me in the eye.”

Jisung’s face twists in anger, his words sharp and venomous. “All you’ll ever be is an addict, Hayun. That’s it. That’s all you’re ever gonna be.”

The crack of Hayun’s fist against Jisung’s nose echoes through the room like a gunshot. He stumbles back, clutching his face, blood already starting to trickle between his fingers.

“Fuck!” Jisung yells, his voice muffled as he glares at her through the pain.

Hayun shakes her hand out, her chest heaving as she stares him down, tears streaming down her face. “You don’t get to call me that. You don’t ever get to fucking call me that.”

Minho moves toward her, reaching for her arm. “Hayun, don’t-”

She jerks her arm away, her voice sharp and trembling. “I don’t need a saviour, Minho. I don’t need you or anyone, so back the fuck off.”

“Hayun,” Minho says softly, his hand lingering in the air. “Don’t do this.”

She shakes her head, her voice quieter but no less firm. “I’m done, Minho. I’m done with all of you.”

Turning on her heel, she storms toward the stairs. Jisung, still holding his bloody nose, shouts after her, “Run away! That’s what you’re fucking good at!”

Hayun freezes for half a second before snapping over her shoulder, her voice raw and furious. “Fuck you!” She doesn’t stop as she ascends the stairs, the sound of her footsteps pounding against the wood.

The room falls silent except for Jisung’s heavy breathing. Felix edges back into the living room, his face pale as he takes in the aftermath. “Uh, what the fuck just happened?”

Changbin steps in behind him, his gaze darting between Jisung, the blood dripping from his nose, and Minho, whose hands are clenched into tight fists. “Anyone want to fill us in?”

“Don’t,” Minho says, his voice low and dangerous as he shoots a glare at Jisung. “Don’t say another fucking word.”

Jisung sneers, his lip curling despite the blood smeared across his face. “What are you gonna do, Minho? Hit me? Go ahead. Join the club.”

Chan steps forward, placing a hand on Minho’s chest to hold him back. “Let’s all take a fucking breath before this gets even worse.”

Jeongin finally sets down his energy drink, his voice calm but firm. “You’re both fucking idiots. Congrats.”

Jisung glares at him but doesn’t respond, instead retreating to the kitchen to grab a towel for his nose. Minho shakes his head, his shoulders tense as he exhales sharply and sits on the edge of the couch, his face buried in his hands.

Felix breaks the silence, his voice soft but steady. “We need to fix this.”

Minho doesn’t look up, his voice muffled but clear. “We can’t fix shit until they stop trying to destroy each other.”

Minho steps into Hayun’s room quietly, his knuckles white as he pushes the door open. The room is dim, only the faint glow of the streetlight outside casting a soft, eerie light through the window. Hayun stands by her dresser, her back to him, her shoulders stiff. She doesn’t turn when he steps inside.

“Hayun,” Minho begins softly, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him.

She spins around suddenly, her eyes blazing. “What the fuck do you want, Minho?”

He falters at her tone, but only for a moment. “I want to talk. You can’t keep shutting everyone out-”

“Shutting everyone out?” Hayun cuts him off, a sharp laugh escaping her lips. She reaches for the silver ring on her finger, twisting it off with deliberate movements. “You think you’re the exception? That I’ll just let you play the hero?”

She steps closer, holding the ring out to him. “Here,” she says coldly. “Take this. I don’t need it, just like I don’t need you.”

Minho stares at the ring for a long moment, his jaw tightening before he takes it. He clutches it in his hand, his knuckles turning white around the small piece of silver.

“You don’t mean this,” he says, his voice low and even. “Whatever you’re going through, you’re lashing out. But you don’t mean it.”

Hayun lets out another humourless laugh, crossing her arms. “You think I don’t? Oh, Minho, you’re so fucking clueless. The only reason we’re in this relationship is because I pitied you. Poor Minho, the boy who lost his sister. How could I say no when you looked so damn pathetic?”

Minho flinches, but his gaze doesn’t waver. “You don’t mean that,” he says firmly, his voice cracking slightly. “You’re not this person, Hayun. This isn’t you.”

Her eyes narrow, and she steps closer, her voice dropping into something almost venomous. “This is me, Minho. This is me without oxy. Cruel, vindictive, and honest.” She smirks, her expression icy. “And you? You’re just a guy who gets off on saving broken girls. Is that your thing? Is that what you need to feel like a man? Because you couldn’t save Chaeryeong?”

The air between them turns electric with tension. Minho’s expression wavers, and for the first time, a flicker of pain crosses his face.

Hayun presses on, her tone sharper now. “That’s it, isn’t it? You couldn’t save your sister, so you latched onto me. The broken girl. The addict. A fucking project to make yourself feel better. But here’s the truth, Minho, you couldn’t save her. You failed Chaeryeong. Just like you fail at everything.”

The words hang in the air like a slap, and Minho blinks, his breath hitching. He takes a step back, his hand still clutching the ring so tightly his nails dig into his palm.

For a long moment, he’s silent, his face unreadable. Then he takes a deep breath and looks at her, his voice steady but heavy with emotion. “I don’t believe a single word you’re saying, Hayun. I don’t. Because this isn’t you.”

Hayun glares at him, her arms still crossed as she waits for him to continue.

“But,” Minho says, his voice breaking slightly, “if this is what you want, if pushing me away is what you think you need, I’ll go. But I’ll be waiting for you to come back to yourself. Because the real Hayun, the Hayun I know, would never say this shit.”

Hayun’s jaw tightens, but her eyes betray her for a split second. Just enough for him to see the flicker of doubt, the crack in her armour. She turns away sharply, her back to him once more.

“Get out,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

Minho stands there for a moment longer, staring at her, willing her to turn back to him. But she doesn’t. With a sharp inhale, he steps back, his movements slow and deliberate.

“You know where to find me when you’re ready,” he says quietly before turning and walking out the door, closing it softly behind him.

Minho steps heavily into the living room, his face pale and his hand clenched tightly around the ring Hayun had just returned to him. The energy in the room shifts instantly as everyone turns to look at him, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity. He doesn’t immediately meet their eyes, his jaw working as though he’s chewing on words he doesn’t want to say.

“She ended it,” he finally manages, his voice flat. He tosses the ring onto the coffee table, where it lands with a faint clink against the glass. “It’s over.”

Felix, sitting closest to the table, frowns deeply and exchanges a glance with Jisung. Jeongin stops mid-sip of his energy drink, lowering the can as he studies Minho’s face.

“Shit,” Jisung mutters, his voice quieter than usual. “That bad?”

Minho doesn’t answer. He sinks onto the couch, his head dropping into his hands as he exhales sharply.

Felix clears his throat, leaning forward to open Hayun’s laptop. “Uh, Minho, you’re gonna want to see this.”

Minho looks up, his eyes dark. “What now?”

Felix turns the laptop around to show the screen. On it is a travel website, and prominently displayed is a booking page for flights from Seoul to Jeju Island. “She’s leaving,” Felix says, his voice tinged with unease. “And she’s not going alone. She’s looking at two tickets.”

The room falls into an uneasy silence. Minho’s gaze sharpens as he stares at the screen, his mind racing. “Two tickets?” His tone turns steely. “Who’s the other one for?”

Felix shrugs helplessly. “The page was open when I was looking for her notes. But someone’s going with her.”

Minho’s eyes scan the room, his jaw tightening. “Who?” His voice is louder now, carrying an edge of desperation. “Does anyone know who she’s going with?”

Chan shakes his head, his expression serious. “If anyone does, they’re not saying.”

Hyunjin crosses his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “It could be anyone. But she didn’t tell me anything.”

“Same,” Jisung says, running a hand through his hair. “You think she’d let me know if she was planning to skip town after slapping the shit out of me? Fuck no.”

Felix glances nervously at Jeongin, who holds up his hands defensively. “Don’t look at me. I don’t know shit. She hasn’t said a word about leaving.”

Minho’s gaze flicks to Seungmin, who is sitting quietly in the corner, scrolling idly through his phone as if he isn’t part of the conversation. “What about you?” Minho asks, his tone sharp. “You’ve been weirdly quiet.”

Seungmin looks up, raising an eyebrow. “And what exactly would I know? Hayun doesn’t confide in me. If she did, I wouldn’t be here sitting on this shitty armchair.”

The room remains tense as Minho studies him, searching for any sign of guilt. Seungmin’s face remains unreadable, his expression a picture of disinterest.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Felix says, breaking the silence. “Why Jeju? Why now?”

Chan rubs his temples, sighing. “Maybe she’s trying to get space. After everything that happened-” He gestures vaguely to the window and the tension still lingering in the air. “It’s been a lot.”

“Space doesn’t explain two tickets,” Minho snaps. He stands abruptly, pacing the room. “Someone’s going with her, and we need to figure out who. Because if it’s someone we don’t trust-”

His voice trails off, but the implication is clear. Jisung grimaces, shooting a glance at Jeongin and Felix. “None of us are going with her, obviously.”

“Not me either,” Hyunjin adds quickly, holding up his hands.

Minho narrows his eyes at the group. “So no one here knows anything?”

A tense silence falls over the room again. Seungmin takes a deliberate sip from his water bottle before looking at Minho. “It could be no one. People look at flights all the time without booking them. Maybe she’s just weighing her options.”

“That’s bullshit,” Minho snaps, his frustration boiling over. “Hayun doesn’t just look at things for no reason. She’s planning something. She’s running.”

“Can you blame her?” Felix says softly, earning a sharp look from Minho.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Minho demands.

Felix sighs, leaning back against the chair. “She’s scared. Maybe leaving feels like the only way she can breathe.”

Minho doesn’t respond, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “We can’t let her go without knowing where or who she’s with,” he finally says, his voice low. “Not after everything that’s happened.”

Chan steps forward, resting a hand on Minho’s shoulder. “Then we’ll figure it out. Together. But pushing everyone here isn’t gonna get us answers.”

Minho exhales sharply, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Fine. But if I find out someone’s lying about knowing who’s going with her-”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but the unspoken threat lingers heavily in the air. Seungmin meets his gaze, unflinching, before returning to his phone as if nothing had happened.

The room remains tense, the weight of unanswered questions hanging over them like a storm cloud.

Seungmin slips upstairs, his steps quiet despite the muffled chaos of arguing voices from the living room below. He reaches Hayun’s door and knocks softly, hesitating for a beat before opening it. Inside, Hayun is crouched by her bed, folding clothes into a small suitcase. She doesn’t look up as he steps inside, shutting the door behind him.

“So, you’re really doing this?” Seungmin says, his tone even.

Hayun glances at him, her lips pressing into a thin line. “It’s what they told me on the phone,” she replies, her voice quiet but firm. “I leave, and they’re safe. That’s the deal.”

Seungmin nods slowly, leaning against the doorframe. “And you think this is the best way to handle it?”

“No,” Hayun admits, pausing as she tucks a sweater into the bag. “But it’s the only way to keep them out of it.”

For a moment, Seungmin just watches her, his arms crossed. Then, with a small sigh, he steps forward and starts grabbing clothes from her closet. “Well, I’ve always wanted to go to Jeju, so thanks for making that happen.”

Hayun blinks at him, momentarily startled, before a small smile tugs at her lips. “You’re welcome. Are you sure you want to come, though? It’s not exactly a vacation.”

“Someone has to keep an eye on you,” Seungmin says casually, tossing a pair of jeans onto the bed. “But honestly, they only think you’re leaving. They don’t need to know the real reason.”

“I know,” Hayun says softly, zipping up the suitcase.

“Our tickets are booked for tonight,” Seungmin reminds her, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You’ve got, what? A few hours before this all kicks off?”

Hayun exhales sharply, her hands pausing on the handle of her suitcase. “I know. I just- I wish I didn’t have to break their hearts.”

“You did,” Seungmin says bluntly, his gaze steady. “Jisung and Minho especially. They’re wrecked. You knew they would be, though, didn’t you?”

Hayun swallows hard, guilt flickering across her face. “I did. But they’re also the two who would have convinced me to stay. I can’t stay, Seungmin. The person on the phone was clear. I leave, and everyone’s safe.”

Seungmin leans back on his hands, studying her for a moment. “You’re sure you can trust them? The person on the phone, I mean.”

“No,” Hayun says honestly, meeting his gaze. “But if there’s even a chance they’ll leave everyone alone, I have to try.”

There’s a beat of silence before Seungmin smirks faintly, shaking his head. “You know, when we worked together at that cafe before you became this big podcaster, I never thought I’d end up fleeing Seoul with you. Funny how life works out.”

Hayun’s smile is small but genuine as she picks up her toiletry bag and stuffs it into the suitcase. “I guess I should say thank you for sticking with me. Even now.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Seungmin mutters, standing and grabbing her jacket from the back of her chair. He drapes it over the bed before looking at her again, his expression softening. “We’re not out of here yet.”

“I know,” Hayun murmurs, zipping up the suitcase and sitting on the edge of the bed beside him. She fiddles with the hem of her hoodie, her voice quieter now. “But it means a lot. Really.”

Seungmin doesn’t respond immediately, his eyes flicking toward the closed door. “You ready for this? To actually go through with it?”

“No,” Hayun admits with a shaky laugh. “But it’s not about what I’m ready for. It’s about what’s necessary.”

Seungmin nods, and for the first time, his hand reaches out to pat her shoulder. “Then let’s get it done.”

Hayun descends the stairs with purpose, her two suitcases bumping slightly against the wooden steps. The sound echoes through the tense silence of the living room, where everyone immediately turns to face her. Her face is calm, but there’s a steely determination in her eyes. Behind her, Seungmin appears, his expression carefully crafted into one of frustration mixed with urgency.

“Hayun,” Seungmin calls after her, his tone sharp but rehearsed. “You can’t just walk out like this. Come on, at least talk to them before you go.”

She doesn’t stop, her grip tightening on the handles of her suitcases. “I’ve already said everything I needed to say. There’s nothing left to talk about.”

Jisung steps forward, his face a mix of anger and desperation. “You’re seriously leaving? Just like that? You’re a fucking coward, Hayun.”

Hayun pauses at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes flicking to Jisung. “If that’s what you need to believe, fine. But I’m not staying.”

Minho, seated on the arm of the couch with his elbows resting on his knees, straightens up, the ring still clutched tightly in his hand. “So that’s it? You’re running away?”

Seungmin steps between them, holding his hands up. “She’s not running. She’s doing what she thinks is best, even if it’s a shitty decision. I’ve been trying to convince her to stay, but she’s made up her mind.”

Felix crosses his arms, his voice trembling with frustration. “Hayun, you can’t just leave us in the middle of all this. We’re a team.”

“I’m not abandoning the team,” Hayun says evenly, her voice soft but resolute. “I’m doing this for all of you.”

“For us?” Minho snaps, his voice laced with bitterness. “Bullshit. You’re doing this for yourself.”

Seungmin turns, feigning irritation. “Can’t you all see this isn’t helping? Let her go. At least give her that.”

Hayun brushes past the group, her movements deliberate. As she reaches the door, she hesitates for the briefest of moments, her shoulders rising and falling with a deep breath. Then, without looking back, she steps outside, Seungmin following close behind.

The cold night air greets them as Hayun moves toward Seungmin’s car. He pops the trunk and takes her suitcases, carefully placing them beside his own packed bags. As he shuts the trunk, he glances at her, his mask of frustration slipping into a wry smile.

“Well,” Seungmin says as they slide into the car, the doors clicking shut. “Let’s go to Jeju and see if we can solve Yeji’s murder from four hundred kilometers away.”

Hayun exhales, her hands gripping the edge of her seat. “None of them know the address of Etta’s house,” she says quietly, her voice steadier than she feels. “They can come to Jeju all they want, but they won’t find us.”

Seungmin starts the car, the engine rumbling to life. He glances at her from the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable. “You sure about this?”

“I’m sure,” Hayun says firmly, though her hands fidget slightly in her lap. “This is the only way to keep them safe.”

Seungmin nods, pulling the car onto the road. “Alright then. Let’s do this.”

As they drive away, the lights of the house fade into the distance, leaving only the quiet hum of the engine and the unspoken weight of the journey ahead.

The hum of the car engine fills the quiet night as Seungmin keeps his eyes on the empty road ahead. The air inside the car is tense, but not hostile. He glances at Hayun, whose hands rest in her lap, her fingers twisting a silver bracelet around her wrist.

“They’ll forgive you, you know,” Seungmin says, his voice calm but firm.

Hayun shakes her head, her gaze fixed out the window at the shadowy trees flashing by. “I could live with it if they didn’t,” she murmurs. “I did this for them, not for me. The person on the phone was clear, if I leave Seoul, no more bricks, no more threats. Everyone stays safe.”

Seungmin sighs, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “That’s a lot of weight to carry on your shoulders, Hayun. What if leaving doesn’t fix anything? What if-”

“It has to,” Hayun interrupts, her voice low but steady. “I can’t take the chance. If staying means they’re in danger, I won’t risk it.”

Seungmin glances at her again, his lips pressing into a thin line. “You’re too good for your own damn good.”

A faint smile touches her lips, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “You’re the only one who thinks so right now.”

The road stretches on, dark and quiet. The night is colder here, the frost shimmering faintly on the asphalt. Seungmin flicks on the heater, but before either of them can relax, headlights appear in the distance, blindingly bright against the dark road.

“Shit, that guy’s driving fast,” Seungmin mutters, squinting at the oncoming truck.

The truck barrels toward them, swerving wildly. Seungmin’s grip tightens on the wheel, his voice rising. “What the fuck is he-”

Before he can finish, the truck veers sharply into their lane. “Hold on!” Seungmin shouts, throwing his arm across Hayun’s chest instinctively as the truck slams into the side of their car with deafening force.

The impact sends the car spinning across the icy road, the sound of screeching metal and shattering glass filling the air. Hayun’s scream is cut short as her head snaps to the side, hitting the window with a sickening thud. Seungmin grits his teeth, struggling to control the spinning car, but another jolt from the truck’s impact sends them crashing into a snowbank.

The world tilts, then stills. The once-deafening noise fades into eerie silence. Inside the car, Hayun and Seungmin are slumped over, unconscious, their breaths shallow and uneven. The windshield is spiderwebbed with cracks, shards of glass glinting like ice in the faint glow of the headlights.

From the wreckage, the sound of crunching footsteps approaches. Two hooded figures emerge from the shadows, their faces obscured by thick scarves. They move with purpose, their boots crunching against the frozen ground as they approach the crumpled car.

The taller figure yanks open the driver’s side door, the hinges groaning in protest. Seungmin’s limp body slumps against the seatbelt. The figure unbuckles him and hauls him out, dragging him by the arms toward a dark van parked further down the road.

The second figure moves to the passenger side, pulling Hayun’s door open with a sharp jerk. Her head lolls to the side, a faint line of blood trickling from her temple. The figure hesitates for a moment, then grabs her under the arms, lifting her out of the car with a grunt.

They move quickly, dragging both unconscious bodies toward the waiting van. The taller figure opens the back doors, revealing a dark, empty interior lined with straps and restraints. They toss Seungmin and Hayun inside unceremoniously, the sound of their bodies hitting the metal floor echoing in the still night.

The shorter figure closes the doors with a solid thud, and the taller one circles to the driver’s side. The van’s engine rumbles to life, the headlights cutting through the darkness as it pulls onto the road and disappears into the night, leaving the wrecked car behind.

The road falls silent again, save for the faint rustling of the wind. The smashed car sits abandoned, its lights flickering weakly, as the van carries its unconscious passengers to an unknown fate.

Taglist: @hityoulikebahng @drewsandsebastianswife @fackeraccount @lily-loves-kpop @stilldontknowhoiam

@ziggy1221 @justaspoonofjam @tr-mha-fan @candycurshidkwhatthehell

@heeseungspookie @smigcrazy @skzstannie @nightmarenyxx @beaann

[carlos-in-glasses]

Thank you for the tag @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @whatsintheboxmh @strandnreyes @thisbuildinghasfeelings 🧡💛

Chapter 7: A Boy's Best Friend of Where All This Love Comes From is up on ao3 - so this is some TK and Owen from Chapter 8: Your Heart, As if It Was My Very Own - coming Sunday. Really looking forward to sharing!

“I let you go to Mike’s Superbowl party on one condition,” Owen says, heaving himself out of the chair. “No substances. And you promised.”

“I didn’t, I didn’t.” TK smiles and nudges Owen’s chest. “I’m just tired. I need to go to bed.”

“TK. Look at me.”

“Noooo I’m fine.”

“TK!” Owen grabs TK by his backpack. TK struggles and jerks his arms around until his backpack and coat come away in Owen’s hands. Owen lets both items clatter to the floor – and when the bag smacks the floorboards, there’s a strange buzzing sound.

“What’s that?” Owen asks.

“I don’t know,” TK says quickly, launching for the backpack at the same time as Owen – his blood running cold when he sees the black canvas undulating.

The Oxy has dulled his reaction times. Owen snatches the bag and unzips.

There it all is. A half-eaten Hershey bar. A green tube containing pills (opened). A strip of ribbed condoms (eleven serrated squares out of twelve). And a pink vibrator that is accidentally vibrating and thrusting at its highest setting.

Owen takes the vibrator out of the bag, stares at it moving in his hand like a living thing, and then switches it off with some difficulty.

“I can explain,” TK says once the room falls blessedly quiet but for street noise below.

Owen looks at the vibrator, looks at TK, looks at the vibrator. Looks at TK. “Did you get this the same place you got that?” he nods at the New York University hoodie that TK stole from Mike when Mike wasn’t looking. He put it on over his sweater and under his coat for extra warmth, which he thought was sensible. “Same place you got the pills?”

“And the chocolate bar,” TK admits. “Look–”

“You told me you were going to Mike’s, and you went to fucking New York University and came home with Oxy and a sex toy?”

“Like I said. I can explain,” TK says, even though explaining would mean repeating everything Owen just said. Because that is what happened.

“This is going in the trash. All of it.” Owen stomps away to the kitchen with TK in wobbly pursuit.

“No! I should be allowed to have that,” TK cries, more fussed about the vibrator than the pills at this point, because he had grand plans.

Owen pulls the garbage can out of its hideaway cupboard and dumps the condoms and vibrator into the sack – the vibrator springing to life again among egg shells and scrapped leftovers. Owen stares at TK seriously. Holding eye contact, he shuts the garbage can away while the vibrator carries on singing, slightly muffled. It will keep going until the battery dies.

Open tags and tags below

@lemonlyman-dotcom @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @paperstorm @eclectic-sassycoweyes @liminalmemories21 @heartstringsduet @welcometololaland @fitzherbertssmolder @ladytessa74 @lightningboltreader @bonheur-cafe @chaotictarlos @chicgeekgirl89 @alrightbuckaroo @noxsoulmate @freneticfloetry @herefortarlos @louis-ii-reyes-strand @carlos-tk @redshirt2 @wandering-night19 @inkweedandlizards @inflarescent @jesuisici33 @three-drink-amy @reyesstrand @theghostofashton @rmd-writes @goodways @louis-ii-reyes-strand - if you want to share/haven't already! No pressure ever! ❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙🩵💜

[toxycodone]

important question

[moon-x0]

🩷🫵

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[undertale-writing-times]

Just a quick idea for Passive, Mur, Delusion, Oxi , and Mallow

Their Datemate who’s usually very shut off and guarded with their emotions (maybe because of trauma?) says ‘I love you’ for the first time after a while of being together. How do they react?

Cool! Thank you for the ask :)

Passive: He understands being shut off from people and emotions because of things that happened in your past. Every day he struggles with it. He's trying his best to not be seen as ONLY the negative guy, he doesn't want that. There are positive negative feelings as well as there is toxic positivity! Sometimes you HAVE to have negative feelings. But, honestly, when you tell him that you love him for the first time, he's shocked and unsure how to respond for a few seconds... heck, almost a minute! Finally, he gets knocked out of his thoughts, and he smiles and 'kisses' your cheek, "I love you too..." His tail was wagging like crazy.

Mur: He's one of the few that wouldn't make it a big deal. He looks at you while you were saying it, and smile "Heh... love you too" he takes your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. He is very happy to hear it, of course, but he wouldn't want to make you feel awkward or anything so he's not gonna make it a big deal.

Delusion: He would be shocked when he hears it and would look at you, almost like you had two heads. He just... he wasn't expecting it? He looks down at the ground, then back at you, "Ah..." he clears his throat, blushing hard, "I love you too Y/n, um thank you" He didn't know how else to respond! He leans over, hiding his face into your arm. You got him all flustered.

Oxi: Honestly? They're quite amused by your strange actions. They understand your fear, the way that you're closed off isn't really that hard to guess. So, when you tell them that you love them? They couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, "Oh?" They lean over, giving you a little nuzzle, "I will say that I return these feelings, my dearest"

Mallow: He just straight up cries bro.

[jpitha]

Just a Little Further 9

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Standing in front of the line of us waiting for the airlock to cycle, I don't think I've ever been this nervous! Even during my graduation, waiting to find out if I was selected for FarReach's mission, nothing was as nerve wracking as this. But, I had to be strong. I was going to represent humanity and K'laxikind here. I took a deep breath, held it for two, and let it out through my nose. Here we go.

The outer lock door cycled and the first thing that I noticed was the smell of the umbilical. It wasn't bad so much as it was unfamiliar. My nose was inundated with smells I've never smelled before. Starbases have a smell about them. They're self contained units where sometimes thousands of sapients will live work and play together, of course they're going to smell. Doesn't matter how fastidious you are about cleaning, something just permeates the walls. This was list that but...different. The smells of thousands of sapients I've never seen before.

The second thing I noticed was how warm it was! It was warm and moist like a hot summer day. We don't normally keep our Starbases this warm or moist. Moisture promotes corrosion and heat is cheap to make, but expensive to dissipate. It was odd.

I walked down the short umbilical until I reached the door to the Starbase. Like ours, it was an iris type door. Maybe that's universal. "FarReach, you're sure the gases on the other side are breathable?" I asked, one last time.

"Sensors indicate that they're pretty close to Earth and K'lax, Melody." FarReach said kindly. "The specific gas mixture is a little different. A touch more xenon than what we use, maybe just a bit less carbon dioxide. Oxy levels are fine though, you can breath it no worries."

"Okay then, here goes..." and I touched the pad by the iris.

With a whoosh, it snapped open. That's way faster than home, I was startled. I looked out, surprised and I saw them.

It was a group of 6 sapients in front, with a small crowd behind them. Three of them had iridescent feathers! They looked almost like gigantic birds! They had wings even! I wonder if they could fly. The other three were more like they were a sea creature long in their past. They had tentacles they stood on, and looked like they had no bones. If you squinted, maybe they looked like Octopuses, but they didn't really look like octopuses. Just the tentacles and the lack of bones and the large, wet eyes, though they weren't dripping or anything. They were standing apart though. With a large space between them. That's odd. I would have figured that they would be all together.

One of the bird looking ones took a step forward and said "Welcome! This is Reach to the Might of Vzzx. I am Starlight on a Moonless Evening, this is The Smell Of The Ocean and there is Rapid River Roaring."

They took a step back and then, one of the octopus people took a step forward. "Welcome from us as well! I am Vivvix, this is Zemmlin and over here is Ottarn."

Then, Vivvix took a step back and waited. This must be some kind of ritual. Mentally, I shrugged and took a step forward. I took a breath and said "Thank you for your warm welcome! My name is Melody Mullen, with me is my Captain Selem Q'ari, our linguist Fer’resi Perinem and one of our engineers, Omar Adel." At each mention of their names, everyone nodded or did something to indicate which person I was talking about. Fer'resi did a little wave even!

After I finished and the ritual seemed complete, I took a step back. Only then, did I notice how they reacted.

Maybe the nano bots programed me with some extra ability to tell facial expressions, but everyone seemed shocked.

Like, if they were humans, they'd be jaws on the floor shocked.

Uh oh. This keeps happening.

One of the bird people, The Smell of the Ocean I think, spoke. "S-So, you can understand us?" They asked haltingly.

I nodded, then realizing they might not know that gesture said "Yes, I can understand you..." Was I not supposed to be able to? "Can you understand me?"

The Smell of The Ocean's feathers ruffled. Maybe they were embarrassed? They were uncomfortable about something. "A bit, yes. But you are..." They stopped. Their head rotated slightly. Their eyes are more forward on their face than Earth birds so they must have binocular vision but for the life of me it looked like they were trying to get a look at me out of both eyes. Maybe an ancient instinct that has turned into body language. They took a deep breath and started again. "I am speaking my people's standard spacefaring tongue. You can understand me?"

"Yes" I said, puzzled.

They did their version of a nod. I wonder how I knew that? They spoke again "Now, I am speaking the language of the Northern Continent of my people's home planet. It hasn't been spoken outside of legal briefings for five thousand cycles. Today, it is more a ceremonial language than anything. Only people like me can understand it, and even then only haltingly. I was a student of it, and so can speak it fluently. There are fewer than one thousand of us." They stopped and stared at me. "Do you understand me?"

My eyes went wide. "Y-Yes, I understand you." I answered quietly.

With an expression that I could only describe as their version of raised eyebrows, Zemmlin looked at them, then at me, and spoke. "I see what they are doing, let me try. I am speaking my people's home planetary language. My... colleague The Smell of the Ocean here does not understand it. Do you?"

Horror dawned. "Y-Yes, I understand it." I whispered.

It was my turn to reply. "When you speak to me, and I reply, am I replying in your language, or the same language every time?"

Starlight on a Moonless Evening replied this time. "Every time you speak, you are replying in the Holy Tongue."

I blinked. The what?

"I'm sorry, the what?"

Starlight made a gesture that I knew was a shrug. I couldn't tell you how I knew though. "The Holy Tongue. The language of the Gods. The words of the Builders."

That last one struck a chord. "Do you mean the builders of the Warp Gates?"

Rapid River Roaring laughed. "Who else would we mean, Holy One?"

Ugh, and I thought being called Lieutenant was bad.

Vivvex came forward now and said "It seems we all have something to learn from each other. We would like to learn how you came to us though the Warp Gates which we thought were long deactivated and are speaking The Holy Words and you... probably have things to ask us too. Do you take food? Come. It's meal time for us. We can eat and speak afterwards."

"L-let me talk to my companions for a moment please."

Vivvex nodded and took a step back. I turned around can faced everyone. "Okay, how much of that did you get?" I asked.

Fer'resi was the first to reply. "Um Melody, how many languages do you know? I noticed they kept taking turns talking to you in clearly different languages and you replied every time."

"I think I know... all of them" I said awkwardly. "I know, it sounds crazy, but they said I'm speaking "The Holy Tongue."

"The what?" Omar asked, incredulous.

"I know, right? I think they mean the language of the builders of the Warp Gate. Oh! They also said they thought the Gate was disabled until we came through it."

"Disabled?" Captain Q'ari said, thinking. "Given what we saw at the previous address, I hope we didn't unlock the door for something to come through here."

I didn't even think of that. "Oh shoot. I hope you're right." I clicked my radio "Hey FarReach, Gene, please keep an extra sharp eye out for anything following us through the Warp Gate. The locals say they thought it was disabled until we came through it."

"You got it Melody." Gene replied. "How's the meet and greet going?"

"I don't know Gene. I think they think I'm a living God."

"In a good way, or a bad way?" Gene asked in that joking but not really tone that humans use sometimes.

"Too soon to tell." I said honestly. "We're about to go to lunch I think,"

"Ooh, tell me if you eat anything good, tell me and I'll try it when I get to go ashore."

"Will do Gene. You take care. FarReach, I admit this is a long shot but how's the language model coming?"

FarReach chuckled. "I was just chatting with Fer'resi. It's tough to build a language model when you can understand everyone but keep replying in one language. We're getting something though. Fer'resi thinks it might be enough to be understood. We're going to be replying in your language though. If they really think it's a Holy Tongue, they might be uncomfortable at that. They must have translators though, let's see if we can buy or borrow one. That'll help."

"Good Idea. They invited us to lunch or something, so I'll ask then."

I turned to Captain Q'ari. "They want to invite us to lunch. Do you want me to say yes?"

Selem's ears twitched in a way that signaled resignation and frustration. Hah. I think I can tell K'laxi expressions better with these nano machines helping too! "We should probably accept, yes." She turns and looks at us. "Did everyone bring their portable mass spectrometers?"

We all have a small mass-spec on our wrists. It can scan food and drink and make sure there aren't any obviously poisonous things or K'laxi allergens in it. It won't tell us if things taste good, but it'll tell us if we can eat them without going into anaphylactic shock or ruining our livers.

Nods of yes all around. "Go ahead and accept the invitation Melody." Huh. She didn't call me Lieutenant Mullen. Interesting.

I turn back around. "After a little deliberation with my team, we would be grateful to accept your invitation to dine together. Please lead the way."

Again, they are taken aback at my speech. I have a hunch that they're just not used to someone speaking to them in the language I'm speaking to them in. It's like a language they have only read or studied in school and here I was talking to them in it like it was normal.

At least they mostly understood me, and I can apparently understand them in any language they speak.

Starlight bowed low and spread their wings and said "Wonderful. Please follow me."

They lead us away from the dock and as we walked I looked around.

The Starbase was different than the Joint K'laxi/Human Starbase I lived on before embarking. It was more...organic? Maybe it was a function of the fact that I think it was built out of an asteroid, but it definitely felt more grown than built in places. There were curves and smooth walls and dark grey and browns. The lighting was more organic feeling than back home too. It was warm and bright and led an airiness to the Starbase that it would be lacking otherwise. We were pretty far from this system's star and we were not in orbit around a planet, so the cheeriness was appreciated.

And the people! All kinds of people. I saw more of the bird people, more of the octopus people and so many others. There were these large bipedal beings in very complicated looking pressure suits. Maybe they're from a world that uses a different breathing mixture than here. There were ones with long legs with knees that were almost parallel with their heads! They had large segmented eyes like an insect and it always felt like they were watching us as we walked by.

Come to think of it, everyone was watching us as we walked by.

They weren't too happy about it.

My newfound ability to know everyone's body language was ringing alarm bells. Everyone hated to see us. Especially the Bird and Octopus people.

We turned a corner and came upon what I figured was the main promenade.

I nearly lost my footing I was so startled. It was gigantic! Far larger and more dense than any city I ever visited on Meíhuā. I've never been to Earth, but I bet this was more crowded than some Earth cities! It was so tall too. More than 200 meters straight up if I had to guess. There were windows and lights and signs all the way up.

While we were walking Fer'resi was trying his best to speak with The Smell of The Ocean. I could understand both of them, so it was a little odd to hear.

"Um, what about this. Hello?"

"Oh, I got that one! Hello!"

"Amazing! Try this: My name is Fer'resi, what's yours?"

Ocean shook his feathers sadly "I didn't get that, friend."

Fer'resi made notes in his pad. This time, his translator spoke "Do you understand this?

Ocean rippled surprise. "I do understand it. But your accent is very thick. How did you do that?"

Fer'resi smiled. "Our Ship, FarReach helped. We're working together to build a language model. If you have a translator we can purchase or borrow, we can refine it further."

Ocean made an expression that I knew was a nod. "We do have them. I'll make sure you get one, yes. You can even keep it to help refine your language model, provided you provide us with an update so we can update our translators as well."

Fer'resi frowned and made more notes. "I got the majority of that, but I missed part of it. Oh well. We'll get more accurate with time."

I had a thought. "Hey Fer'resi. Speak to me in English."

"Um okay." He thought a moment. "Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of the party."

"Coming to the aid of what party?" I asked, confused.

He chuckled. "It's apparently old filler text that people used to use on mechanical type writing machines. It's nonsense. But, you did understand it?"

"I did. It was easy."

"I have a feeling Melody, that you now can understand every language. I have no idea what those nano machines did, but they clearly edited the language processing part of your brain. I wonder what the limitations of it are. We should experiment later."

"Sure Fer'resi, we can do that."

Vivvix turned back to me "Holy One, why are you armed?" We notice the weapons on your back."

ughhh, I hate that. "Please don't call me Holy One, my name is Melody. I'm armed because we weren't sure what to expect and we wanted to come prepared. I'm the only one armed because I'm the best shot here, and we didn't want to come across as warlike with us all being armed. It was a compromise."

Vivvix's skin subtly changed color, a nod. Neat! "I see, thank you... Melody. Will you be armed in future visits?"

I shrugged. "I don't know yet." I said carefully. If everyone is... not a threat then... I don't see a reason to come armed next time."

Vivvix gave their version of a smile, but I was able to tell it was fake. "That's very nice to hear. Thank you"

Now that sounded menacing. I think I'm going to continue coming to this Starbase armed.

Rapid River Roaring led us towards a large stone looking building near the center of the promenade. It was either very old or meant to look very old. In front were a fountain and a statue of a being in a pressure suit looking out onto the promenade making a grand gesture. The fountain and the statue were carved in the same stone of the Starbase. "Here we are. It's the administration offices for Reach of the Might of Vzzx. There is a cantina here that offers many different kinds of food. I'm sure we can find something pleasing for you to consume here."

As they approached the building Captain Q'ari stopped dead. She was staring at the statue and was clearly frightened, almost shaking. Fer'resi, noticing her, followed her gaze and also immediately was frightened. "M-Melody." Fer'resi said, his voice catching. "Look at the statue."

I turned at looked at it and gasped. Omar noticed us, followed our gaze and softly said "holy shit."

It was a human woman.

Part 10

[artiststarme]

Cherophobia

Well, hopefully this doesn't seem too disjointed. I don't know if I love it but it's really hard to write about fears that you yourself experience without it sounding ranty! I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~

Cherophobia: the irrational aversion to being happy. Likely occurring when people feel the need to protect themselves, usually resulting from past trauma or conflict. 

Throughout Eddie’s life, he always had the feeling like the other shoe was going to drop. He could never just enjoy a good day in peace. If things were going too smoothly at home or school then he knew it was only a matter of time before something bad happened. And it always did. He couldn’t let himself be happy because he knew something bad, something to make him feel sad or angry, would always follow.

It happened when he was a little kid when he had a good day at school only to go home and find out his mom had died of a drug overdose. He’d been allowed to color his pictures all day before listening to his teacher read a story. His friend had even given him half of her Little Debbie cake at lunch. But when it was time to be picked up from school, his mom wasn’t there. He waited for what seemed like hours before he walked himself home to an empty apartment. His dad told him later that his mom was a stupid bitch that took too much oxy that day and died. Eddie spent the next several months in a depressed stupor, trying to adjust to life without his mom while also trying to survive living with his dad. He’d never felt so alone.  

When he was ten, he made a friend at school. After months of eating lunch alone and being picked on by the other kids, it was nice to talk to someone that didn’t want to hurt him. But when Eddie got home, his dad was in the midst of a drug-fueled manic episode. In his foggy haze, his dad determined that his curls were a little too girly for a man and shaved them all off with a blunt razor. Eddie went back to school the next day only to find that his new friend wanted nothing to do with him. He’d seemingly changed overnight and it wasn’t for the better. 

It happened once more in his childhood at age eleven when Eddie got an A+ on his creative writing paper. He was living on cloud nine for a few hours, high on the feelings of happiness and accomplishment only to be picked up from school by the police who took him to stay with his estranged Uncle Wayne. His dad had been arrested for assault with a deadly weapon and attempted murder after getting in a fight at a bar. Eddie had to leave all he knew to go back to a small unknown town in Indiana with an uncle he hardly knew after finally starting to like it at his school. Things turned out okay with Uncle Wayne, of course, but for a few months, Eddie felt like his world was imploding. Every single time, like clockwork, as soon as Eddie started to let his guard down and let himself feel happy, something bad would immediately happen to force the walls back up. 

It was his own addition to the Munson Doctrine; don’t let yourself get too happy or something bad will happen. He was afraid of feeling anything too happy in case it prompted something bad. He certainly did not want to tempt fate and made a point to avoid having too positive of emotions. But sometimes even Eddie forgot to follow his own rules. 

Really, he should’ve seen this coming. He’d been too happy these past few months, it was inevitable for it all to come crashing down. He never would have thought that he would be blamed for the murders of several of his fellow students that were killed by a flesh monster from an alternate dimension that could murder people through their minds but maybe he should’ve. After all, he’s never had any good luck so it might as well happen to him. 

But after so many good months, it almost seems like a cruel trick performed by the universe. He was finally happy, truly happy. His grades had improved, he brought new freshmen into Hellfire, he’d scored more gigs with Corroded Coffin performing at the Hideout, and he’d even gotten a part-time job at Thatcher Tire. Eddie was finally becoming happy with his life and now it was all being taken away for something he didn’t even do. He thought he’d been becoming more optimistic, more hopeful but instead, he’d been becoming more naive. 

He let his guard down and was now paying the price. Instead of remaining wary, cautious, of the giddy feelings of joy like he always had before, Eddie had welcomed them with open arms. He knew that the fall would be hard but he let himself feel it anyway in the hope that things would be different. But they weren’t. 

As he felt the tiny bat teeth gnashing through his flesh while he laid on the cold ground of the Upside Down, all he could focus on was the fact that he’d never get to experience what true happiness was like without fearing it before he died. He didn’t mind dying a martyr in order to save his friends, didn’t mind dying in general to be honest. He just wished that he could’ve seen what true happiness was before his eyes slipped closed for the last time (or so he thought).

When he opened his eyes again, he was greeted by the sight of a darkened hospital room. His wrist was cuffed to the bed and his other hand was gripped tight in sleep by Steve “The Hair” Harrington. Steve’s head was resting on the bed next to Eddie’s hip and Dustin was sleeping on the cushioned seat of the bay window. Eddie had gone through hell the past week and he had a long way to go but he had hope that he would make it. 

He had friends, nay- family, now that would stay by his side. Maybe with Steve, Dustin, and the rest of the Party behind him, he could let himself be happy without fear and they could catch him when things inevitably started to fall apart. All he had to do was try. 

@doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @straight4joekeery @ghosttotheparty

[luckyduckwrites]

The Moon Chapter 2-11: Hide and Seek and A Great Find

Fandom: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Della Duck (Disney) & Original Character(s), Dewey Duck & Donald Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck (Disney) & Original Character(s), Lena (Disney: DuckTales) & Webby Vanderquack & Original Character(s), Violet Sabrewing (Disney) & Original Character(s), Scrooge McDuck & Original Character(s)

Characters: Della Duck (Disney), Dewey Duck (Disney), Donald Duck (Disney), Huey Duck (Disney), Louie Duck (Disney), Scrooge McDuck, Webby Vanderquack, Lena (Disney: DuckTales), Violet Sabrewing (Disney), Penumbra (Disney: DuckTales), Lunaris (Disney: DuckTales), Gibbous (Disney: DuckTales), Zenith (Disney: DuckTales), Original Trans Character(s)

Additional Tags: Original Character-centric, No Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Older Sibling Huey Duck (Disney), Older Sibling Dewey Duck, Sensitive Louie Duck (Disney), Dewey Duck Has ADHD (Disney), Aromantic Asexual Dewey Duck (Disney), Protective Huey Duck (Disney), Autistic Huey Duck (Disney), Anxious Huey Duck (Disney), Good Sibling Huey Duck (Disney), Good Parent Della Duck (Disney), Della Duck Tries (Disney), Della Duck Needs a Hug (Disney), Della Duck has ADHD (Disney), Protective Della Duck (Disney), Della Duck Has PTSD (Disney), Minor Della Duck/Penumbra (Disney: DuckTales), POV Original Character

Summary:

My name is Clover Duck. My mom accidentally took my egg with her on the rocket, and we got stuck on the moon. I've only ever seen the vast nothing of the moon, but the colors on Earth look like they would be beautiful. Mom and I chew a gum called Oxy-Chew that allows us to breathe, and it gives us the nutrients we need to survive. My mom tells me that I have three brothers on Earth, and I can't wait to meet them!

A/N: After A Nightmare on Kilmotor Hill, Clover uses the name Lucky and uses he/him. Please respect that in the comments after that chapter.

**AO3 & Wattpad links in masterpost pinned to the top of the blog**

"You've never played hide and seek before?!"

Webby's loud voice rings in my ears, and I respond, "Not really. Kinda hard to play when it was just Mom and me and the Moon Mite. Although... I guess us looking for the Mite whenever there was a slight tremor was kinda like hide and seek."

Dewey grimaces, and he asks, "What the heck's a Moon Mite?"

I shrug, responding, "It's this huge 4-eyed creature that's body is mostly head with tentacles for a mouth, metal-melting spit, and four legs that kinda move like a spider's. Oh! And it sounded kinda like a squirrel or chipmunk when it talked to its baby."

Huey and Dewey blink a few times in unison before Huey starts writing things down on a clean page for his JWG, and Dewey finally shakes his head, saying with a humorless chuckle, "Wow. I'm suddenly not feeling very jealous of you being the one to grow up with Mom."

Louie pipes up from the couch next to me, not looking up from his phone as he adds, "So the missing leg wasn't enough of an indicator that things weren't all sunshine and rainbows for them on the Moon, Dingus?"

Dewey turns his attention to Louie, exclaiming, "Hey! We promised not to use each other's middle names against each other like that anymore!"

Louie simply smiles and chuckles, making Dewey even more upset.

I fail to cover a giggle, then clear my throat and ask, "So... That hide and seek game?

Webby exclaims, "Right! Oh, you're gonna have so much fun!"

Dewey puts a hand on Webby's shoulder, and adds, "Say, why don't we kick it up a notch? How about... Hide and seek tag! It's basically the same rules, but the seeker has to actually tag the people they find, and if you get tagged, you join the seeker's team until everyone is tagged! The first person to get tagged is the seeker next round!"

I pump my fists, exclaiming, "Ooh, that sounds so fun! Who should be the seeker first?"

Louie halfheartedly raises a hand, stating, "Go ahead, but I'm not playing. Got stuff to do in my games before my premium membership free trial goes away and Uncle Scrooge catches onto me using his credit card again."

Huey adds, not looking up from his book, "I also won't be playing. I've got to research this Moon Mite thing so it doesn't give me nightmares later."

I look at Webby and Dewey, saying, "Guess it's just the three of us, then."

Webby adds, "Yup."

There's a moment as we all stand in uncomfortable silence before I exclaim, "Not it!"

Webby adds just after me, "Not it!"

Dewey groans, muttering, "Aw, man." Webby quickly ties a blindfold over his eyes, and he asks, "Is the blindfold really necessary?"

Webby smirks, saying, "Gotta make sure you're not cheating like in Among Ducks when you peek over our screens to see who the Imposter duck is."

I gasp, asking loudly, "That's how you caught me? I thought you were just getting up for a drink!"

Dewey fakes a cough as he mutters, "You're not a very good liar anyways."

My mouth goes wide at that as an offended look I hope he can somehow feel under the blindfold forms.

Webby says, "Let's just start hiding. Dewey, you count to 20, then come looking for us. And use Mississippis. I'll know if you don't."

Dewey huffs dramatically, then starts counting, "1 Mississippi... 2 Mississippi... 3 Mississippi..."

The two of us run out of the mansion's living room, with me running upstairs to the bedrooms, and Webby staying on the first floor. I run into Mom's room and hide under her massive pile of pillows at the head of her bed. She said she never used to be a pillow hog, but that she missed how it felt to be surrounded by them every night when she was my age.

My breath hitches as I hear the door open, and I take a deep breath as quietly as I can, holding my hands over my mouth to make sure I stay as silent as possible. After a minute of him silently rooting around the room, he sighs, leaving the room and shutting the door. I peek my head out of the pillow pile slowly after a few minutes, making sure he's not in the room before emerging. If he comes back here, he probably won't overlook the pillow pile a second time, so I've gotta change hiding spots.

I slowly open the door, looking twice down both ends of the hallway before taking off to my right toward dozens of unused bedrooms. I stop when I hear Webby's voice in a whisper just around the corner. He must've found her already! Dang, I'm really in trouble now. I open the first door in reach and duck inside just in time as I hear Dewey and Webby race past.

I just barely catch Webby saying, "I think he went this way!"

I open the door and hop into the bedroom's walk-in closet, pulling myself into a tight ball in the far end of the closet, tucked behind something dangling from above. This proves to be a mistake as I sneeze, smelling a heavy coating of dust in the corner I'm tucked into.

As I hear their footsteps loudly creaking the floorboards just outside the room, I decide I need to change rooms again. As I stand, I bump into one of the things dangling in the closet, and it falls from the closet rod and onto the floor. Curious, I pick it up and tug on a small chain, turning on the closet's light bulb.

The thing I'm holding appears to be a child-sized outfit hung on a clothes hanger, but I can't tell exactly what the outfit is since it's covered in a plastic clothing cover, like the ones you'd use for an outfit that you know will rarely, if ever, see the light of day again, but you want to protect it from moths and anything that could ruin the fabric. I rub a hand against the plastic to remove an even thicker layer of dust than what's already in the closet, and I can finally see the outfit inside.

It appears to be a vintage Mirvana T-shirt and a dark blue, almost grey flannel over-shirt. It feels familiar, like I've seen it somewhere before. Where have I seen this outfit before? Maybe in that old scrapook Mom gave me a few days ago that she'd fished out of her old room's closet. Well, there's only one way to find out.

I pull the plastic cover off of the outfit and cough at the dust, fanning the air around me as a ton of dust flies into the air from the sudden movement. How long has this stuff been abandoned in here? I pull the chain to turn off the closet's light and finally exit the dusty closet, slinging the outfit over my shoulder. I peek my head out of the room like I did when I left Mom's room, and take off toward the left this time, toward my room.

When I get to my room, I breathe a sigh of relief, hanging the outfit on a hook Mom installed on the back of my bedroom door. I shove the side of my head against the door, and when I'm satisfied there's nobody around, I root around my desk for the scrapbook. Flipping through the pages, I finally find the photo I was thinking of.

The photo contains Mom around my age riding on a skateboard through the Uncle Scrooge's office, her brother Donald towed behind her in a red kid wagon filled with money that spills out behind them as Uncle Scrooge chases them, a worried expression on his face and his top hat held out to catch some stray coins. Donald is wearing that very outfit in this photo, and a couple others throughout the scrapbook.

A/N: This part was inspired by Khion Yohann's fanart linked here: https://x.com/KhionYohann/status/1329445111097397249

I start zoning out and flipping through the scrapbook, finding more of the outfits I saw in the closet. Was that Donald's room? But why did it look so abandoned? I come back to Earth as I feel a light shove to my shoulder, and I drop the scrapbook and turn around to see Dewey and Webby there.

Dewey raises an eyebrow and scratches the back of his neck, saying, "You, uh... You good? You seemed pretty distracted."

I snap out of it, saying, "Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry, I found something and had to figure it out before I forgot, but ended up forgetting about our game. Sorry."

I nervously chuckle, and Webby exclaims, "I totally get it, Lucky! I get the research bug all the time! Why do you think I know so much about your family?"

I give her a concerned look before saying, "Right. Well, I gotta go talk to Uncle Scrooge about something. Sorry to cut our game short."

Dewey shrugs, saying, "It's okay, dude. Webby and I can find something to do, just the two of us."

I walk to two to my door, and Webby leans toward me, whispering, "You'll tell me later, right?"

I nod, and she smiles.

The two walk down toward the hallway together before Webby suddenly taps Dewey on the shoulder and runs, exclaiming, "You're it!"

Dewey laughs, taking off after her. I sigh, walking the other way down the hall toward Scrooge's office.

I knock on the door, and hear a slightly annoyed, "Come in."

I open the door, and Uncle Scrooge looks up from some paperwork at me, his expression brightening instantly.

He smiles, saying, "Lad! What brings ya down to my office today, Lucky? Want to hear more about smart saving from your dear old uncle?"

I chuckle, again,g "Not this time, Uncle Scrooge. While playing a game with Dewey and Webby, I found one of Donald's old outfits from when he was my age in an abandoned bedroom. Doesn't he live in the mansion? I mean, he couldn't have taken all of his clothes and bedding on his cruise, and even if he did, why was his room so dusty?"

The corners of Scrooge's mouth curve down slightly, and he sighs before responding, "Oh, that. Donald... He used to live in the mansion, but after he thought he lost you and your mother in space over 11 years ago, he packed up everything he owned, and he took off in his houseboat with your brothers. The only thing he left was those outfits he'd long grown out of. I think he left them because they reminded him of growing up in the mansion with your mother."

After letting it all sink in, I ask, "Does Mom know?"

Scrooge looks away as he responds, "No. Della still seems to think Donald never left the mansion. That I raised your brothers alongside him. I haven't been able to bring myself to tell her yet. It'd break her wee heart."

I ask quietly, "And you think Donald will be able to help you tell her when he gets back from his cruise?"

Scrooge's eyes meet mine again, and he responds, "Yeah, something like that." He breathes out a small chuckle, adding, "You're so much like her, you know. So I'm is Louie. You're all so perceptive of others, able to figure them out in a snap. For so long, I lived without that wit."

I walk around to the other side of his desk and grab Scrooge's hand, saying, "Don't worry, Uncle Scrooge. I'll let you tell her in your own time."

He picks me up onto his lap and hugs me, saying, "Thanks, lad."

I hug him back, and after a moment I pull away, saying, "You have to promise me you will tell her, though."

Scrooge chuckles, saying, "I promise."

He sets me down, and I wave at him as I leave his office to look for Mom. It's starting to get dark out, so she's probably on the roof. She likes watching the sky as the first stars of the night appear. I crawl up the ladder to the roof, balancing myself along the roof's small ledge as I spot Mom on the roof's slope.

I sit down and slide down next to her, and she says, "Oh! Hey, sweetie!" She sits up from where she was laying on her back, then she asks, "What brings you up here so late? You're usually in your room reading or playing with your brothers and Webby by now."

I say, "About that. I found one of Donald's old outfits in his room while playing hide and seek with Dewey and Webby. The Mirvana shirt and flannel one."

Mom asks, "What about it? Do you want the outfit or something?"

I respond, "Well... Kinda?"

Mom smiles at me, saying, "Well, then, take 'em!"

I ask, "Would that really be okay? I mean, they're his outfits, after all."

Mom rolls her eyes, saying, "Why not, Lúc? It's not he fits in them anymore. He hasn't in decades. Plus, it'd be good to see them getting some use after all these years."

A/N: Lúc is Lucky's new nickname, and it's pronounced like Luke.

I smile, and Mom ruffles my short hair, laughing as I huff and use my fingers to brush out any tangles. She lays back down and gestures for me to lay next to her, resting my head on her outstretched arm. She points out some constellations we couldn't see from the moon as more stars appear, and I fall asleep against her.

[polwigle]

ok so I've been rotating Pikmin 4 in my brain for the last month or so and I think I've figured out something about the post-game! it's essay time :)

(under read-more for both inherent spoilers and length, bc hoooo boy this got out of hand. no spoilers for anything past the early post-game though!)

So the main reason for the post-game happening in the first place is because Oatchi, who for some reason sprouted a leaf on his tail on the way to Hero's Hideaway, gets sick as soon as the Rescue Corps tries to leave the planet. The same thing happened to Moss when Olimar tried to leave earlier. Seems like everyone who got Leafed™ is stuck on PNF-404 unless they can get de-leafed, for reasons unknown to anyone in-universe.

But I think I figured out what's going on, and it's not some nefarious plot to get the Pikmin a permanent leader. (Not the 'can't leave the planet' thing, anyway. I don't claim to know how Oatchi got Leafed™ in the first place.) In this essay I will attempt to prove that plants can't breathe in space.

Let's start by looking at some canon facts:

Lemma 1: Aliens Can't Breathe on Earth

PNF-404 is clearly Earth, at an unspecified point in the future (though I believe it to be relatively recent, as detailed in my last essay[1]).

PNF-404's atmosphere is rich in oxygen. Assuming the planet's atmosphere hasn't changed substantially from the Earth we know, approximately 21% of the air is oxygen[2].

[Data source linked in image: https://nssdc.gsfc.nasa.gov/planetary/factsheet/earthfact.html]

Oxygen is known to be poisonous to Hocotatians, as stated numerous times through the series.

While Koppaites technically can breathe some oxygen, PNF-404 has three times as much oxygen in its atmosphere than Koppai does[3], so Koppaites still need spacesuits to survive on PNF-404.

It is unknown how natives of other planets handle oxygen, but Collin describes it as poisonous, so it appears at least Giyans(?) cannot breathe oxygen. (As Koppaites are also distinguishable by their rounded ears, I suspect oxygen may be poisonous to all pointy-eared castaways.)

Leaflings, regardless of their planet of origin and contrary to the Rescue Corps' expectations, can breathe in PNF-404's oxygenated atmosphere just fine without helmets. (There's a tangent here I could write a separate essay on, but that's for later.)

Oatchi does not wear a helmet, and can apparently breathe just fine on PNF-404 even before his spontaneous leafification. (This could also lead into its own essay, but suffice to say, his species' origins are unknown in-universe. He was born on Giya, but presumably did not evolve there.)

So basically, if you are a small alien in this world, unless you are a plant or perhaps a dog, you do not want to be exposed to oxygen. Especially not the high concentrations of oxygen on PNF-404.

With that established, we now need to consider real-world biology for a second. There's one more thing to note that isn't discussed in-universe:

Lemma 2: Plants Can Breathe on Earth

Plants need oxygen to live! Not to "breathe" per se, that's not an accurate word for something that doesn't have lungs, but for "aerobic respiration", which at a cellular level is at least one reason why things with lungs breathe, so, close enough for this context.

Plants make their own oxygen while they're photosynthesizing. But when they don't have the light they need to photosynthesize (at night or in other darkness), they take in oxygen from around them to respire with[2][4][5].

In the context of Pikmin biology, Blue Pikmin in particular are described as "breathing" multiple times, usually in the context of breathing underwater. One log from the US version of Pikmin 3 even has Brittany say they're "extracting oxygen from the water"[6]. The equivalent European localization just says they're breathing, but they do seem to be specifically taking in oxygen in the process.

In summary, though oxygen is lethal to the core cast of castaways, the plant life on PNF-404, Pikmin included, can't live without it!

Thesis: Plants Can't Breathe in Space

We know oxygen is poisonous to both Olimar and most of the Rescue Corps, with the exception of Oatchi. Therefore, they would not want it inside their spaceships! Meaning the air inside the S.S. Shepherd (and S.S. Dolphin) would contain only trace amounts of oxygen, if any at all, during space flight.

Plant life from PNF-404, including Pikmin and adjacent leafy creatures, need oxygen to breathe. They only make their own while photosynthesizing, which requires plenty of light. But space is dark. Most of the light inside the S.S. Shepherd is from distant stars outside and the glowing antennae of helmets. (The cargo hold Moss was in may have been even darker.) That's probably not enough light to photosynthesize…

The leafy space dogs can't leave the planet because every vehicle that tried to take them away from the planet was devoid of oxygen.

He's suffocating!! ;A;

Counterpoint: Can Aliens Breathe in Space?

Of course, one thing doesn't immediately line up with my conclusion… Even while Oatchi is theoretically suffocating aboard the S.S. Shepherd, everyone else is still wearing helmets, implying there's too much oxygen around them to safely remove them.

There's probably still some oxygen in the ship — not enough for Oatchi to breathe, but too much for anyone else to breathe. Filtering air doesn't happen instantaneously! And given the severe state of disrepair the S.S. Shepherd was in at the start of the game, being completely out of power, the air filtration systems would have also been shut down. So oxygenated air from PNF-404 was in the ship when they took off, and was in the process of being filtered out as they flew off.

Oatchi's 'symptoms stabilizing' when the S.S. Shepherd stopped flying away might seem to suggest there's something more specifically binding him to the planet… Or the air filtration process might have paused while the ship is stalled, to conserve precious Sparklium energy.

TL;DR: Leafy space-sickness isn't some nefarious Pikmin plot. Plants just can't breathe in space. It's not a feature, it's a bug.

References:

[1] Continental Drift vs Pikmin Lore (my first tumblr essay): https://polwigle.tumblr.com/post/657518379437064192/polwigle-polwigle-in-light-of-the-release-and [2] Needs of Plants: https://letstalkscience.ca/educational-resources/backgrounders/needs-plants [3] Koppai (cite note 3): https://www.pikminwiki.com/Koppai#cite_note-3 [4] Oxygen For Plants – Can Plants Live Without Oxygen: https://www.gardeningknowhow.com/garden-how-to/info/can-plants-live-without-oxygen.htm (also source of atmosphere pie chart image) [5] Do Plants Need Oxygen? What Oxygen is Used For & Why: https://flourishingplants.com/do-plants-need-oxygen/ (also source of How Plants Use Oxygen image) [6] Pikmin 3 Voyage Log (Blue Pikmin): https://www.pikminwiki.com/Pikmin_3_voyage_log#Blue_Pikmin

[blondiest]

good luck for the wip meme :3

hehehe thank you for the ask!! this one is matthalle in. to no one's fucking surprise. the universe of it's you and me, that's my whole world. because idk when ill finish this one im just gonna post most of what i have lol

Matt knows she's lucky to be alive.

She felt the blood seeping from her body, pooling on the pavement beneath her, felt the tight pain bloom in her chest whenever she tried to breathe, felt herself slipping from consciousness and thought— so this is it.

The doctors and nurses keep reminding her how lucky she is. She doesn't begrudge them that— they've taken good fucking care of her they've and been terribly patient with her piss-poor Japanese, her mediocre skills worsened by fatigue and all the drugs they have her on. Some of those drugs she's pretty sure they're not supposed to have— she wasn't allowed to bring Adderall into the country, so she'd be surprised if oxy was considered totally kosher— but she doesn't mention it. She appreciates not being in immense amounts of pain, and besides, her last comment on the laws here was met with a shower of bullets.

Come on, since when were the Japanese allowed to carry such big guns?

It's Matt's suspicion that she has Near's team to thank for her reduced suffering, and for the fact that she hasn't been dragged off to jail. Another thing she's fucking lucky for— luck, luck, more luck. Except after a few days of sitting alone in a cold, weird-smelling room, discomfort and isolation start to wear on her. Even the good shit only goes so far when it comes to managing pain, and she's got a good five gunshot wounds and a collapsed lung, and she's alone all day except when she has to shower, which is the one time she *wants* to be alone, and fuck, it gets harder and harder to stay grateful and not grouchy.

During the five days she spends in the hospital, Matt's irritability builds to something of a fever pitch. She gets exactly one visitor on day three, and it isn't even Mello or Near; it's one of Near's agents, a beefy blonde man who comes bearing a care package and gives his name as Rester. She jokingly asks if she can bum a cig, and he stiffly tells her he doesn't think smoking with a collapsed lung is wise. All further efforts at sparkling banter are promptly abandoned.

By the time she's finally deemed stable enough to discharge, Matt is itching to leave. The doctors take out her IV, give her instructions on how to proceed with her recovery, stick her in a wheelchair and tell her to wait. Her ride is meant to arrive soon, she's told.

So Matt waits. She waits ten, twenty, forty minutes, getting more and more pissed-off as the time ticks by. When the door to her room finally opens after almost an hour of waiting, she's full-on glowering, but the expression is instantaneously wiped out when she sees the woman in the doorway.

“You’re not the guy from before,” Matt blurts.

The woman smiles thinly, stepping forward and stooping slightly to offer her hand to Matt, who thankfully has the presence of mind to shake said hand instead of pressing her lips to the woman's knuckles like a fucking weirdo.

“Halle,” she says. “Forgive me for being late. Traffic was a mess.”

Matt had frankly already forgiven her the moment she walked through the door, and would forgive her in the span of a few seconds even if Halle reared back and kicked her in the stomach right now.

“Don't worry about it,” Matt manages. “I’m Matt.”