#psyche’s solar system

[nasa]

Let's Explore a Metal-Rich Asteroid 🤘

Between Mars and Jupiter, there lies a unique, metal-rich asteroid named Psyche. Psyche’s special because it looks like it is part or all of the metallic interior of a planetesimal—an early planetary building block of our solar system. For the first time, we have the chance to visit a planetary core and possibly learn more about the turbulent history that created terrestrial planets.

Here are six things to know about the mission that’s a journey into the past: Psyche.

1. Psyche could help us learn more about the origins of our solar system.

After studying data from Earth-based radar and optical telescopes, scientists believe that Psyche collided with other large bodies in space and lost its outer rocky shell. This leads scientists to think that Psyche could have a metal-rich interior, which is a building block of a rocky planet. Since we can’t pierce the core of rocky planets like Mercury, Venus, Mars, and our home planet, Earth, Psyche offers us a window into how other planets are formed.

2. Psyche might be different than other objects in the solar system.

Rocks on Mars, Mercury, Venus, and Earth contain iron oxides. From afar, Psyche doesn’t seem to feature these chemical compounds, so it might have a different history of formation than other planets.

If the Psyche asteroid is leftover material from a planetary formation, scientists are excited to learn about the similarities and differences from other rocky planets. The asteroid might instead prove to be a never-before-seen solar system object. Either way, we’re prepared for the possibility of the unexpected!

3. Three science instruments and a gravity science investigation will be aboard the spacecraft.

The three instruments aboard will be a magnetometer, a gamma-ray and neutron spectrometer, and a multispectral imager. Here’s what each of them will do:

Magnetometer: Detect evidence of a magnetic field, which will tell us whether the asteroid formed from a planetary body

Gamma-ray and neutron spectrometer: Help us figure out what chemical elements Psyche is made of, and how it was formed

Multispectral imager: Gather and share information about the topography and mineral composition of Psyche

The gravity science investigation will allow scientists to determine the asteroid’s rotation, mass, and gravity field and to gain insight into the interior by analyzing the radio waves it communicates with. Then, scientists can measure how Psyche affects the spacecraft’s orbit.

4. The Psyche spacecraft will use a super-efficient propulsion system.

Psyche’s solar electric propulsion system harnesses energy from large solar arrays that convert sunlight into electricity, creating thrust. For the first time ever, we will be using Hall-effect thrusters in deep space.

5. This mission runs on collaboration.

To make this mission happen, we work together with universities, and industry and NASA to draw in resources and expertise.

NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory manages the mission and is responsible for system engineering, integration, and mission operations, while NASA’s Kennedy Space Center’s Launch Services Program manages launch operations and procured the SpaceX Falcon Heavy rocket.

Working with Arizona State University (ASU) offers opportunities for students to train as future instrument or mission leads. Mission leader and Principal Investigator Lindy Elkins-Tanton is also based at ASU.

Finally, Maxar Technologies is a key commercial participant and delivered the main body of the spacecraft, as well as most of its engineering hardware systems.

6. You can be a part of the journey.

Everyone can find activities to get involved on the mission’s webpage. There's an annual internship to interpret the mission, capstone courses for undergraduate projects, and age-appropriate lessons, craft projects, and videos.

You can join us for a virtual launch experience, and, of course, you can watch the launch with us on Oct. 12, 2023, at 10:16 a.m. EDT!

For official news on the mission, follow us on social media and check out NASA’s and ASU’s Psyche websites.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[try-and-try-and-try-again]

Pottery painting I did on the ward

[nctrnm]

#NowPlaying: "Houston We Have a Podcast: Psyche" by NASA

[wild-fleurs]

They included Pluto!!!!

I know that’s right! Lol

I love Pluto we can’t forget about him he’s our little buddy!

Solar System series by Jian Guo. 2016.

Jian Guo is an architect, illustrator and designer who lives and works in Shanghai. He describes his own work as “stained glass-style” art, and enjoys creating fanart - his most popular to date is that of the Lord of the Rings series. 

When the Solar System series was first proposed, there was some debate as to whether or not to include Pluto, as it was no longer considered a planet in the traditional sense. However, the series was deemed an homage to the past, Pluto retaining its place by virtue of its established position in classical astronomy.

All images courtesy of the artist.

Follow sinθ magazine for more daily posts about Sino arts and culture.

[eureka-its-zico]

Residuals Pt.2

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: You and Robby spent seven long years together until the day it ended. You’ve done your best to create space; to become invisible. You can’t miss what you don’t see. Unfortunately, the universe (Gloria and the Board of Directors) seemed to have missed the memo.

Pairing: Michael ‘Robby’ Robinavitch x Reader

Genre: Established previous relationship, slight age gap (by about 15 years give or take), a little bit of tension mixed in with a little bit of hate yearning, cause she’s a saucy angsty fic ok

Warnings: Language, sexual themes (it's the patient)

A/N: So, this chapter is much beefier than the last. To anyone new here and my writing - I'm a long-winded bitch, so I apologize in advance 🤣. This chapter also uses slight dialogue from the show. There is a scene in this I took from my time working in the ER during the 2020/2021 pandemic. 100% this actually happened. It was traumatizing lol. Thank you, guys, so much for taking such an interest in this fic! For showing so much love and loving on this show along with me (and Dr. Robby lol) because it's fantastic and deserves all the fics and all the love! I truly am grateful and hope that you enjoy this chapter. Much Love, Jenn 🖤

Shout out to @viridian-dagger for looking this over for me. Thank you for putting up with me lol. I Love you. Also, thanks to @strangergraphics for the cute little divider.

Word count: 7524

Previous I Next

7:00 AM - 8:00 AM

You’d been staring at the screen for what accumulated into an eternity in the ED. The longer you kept staring, kept from just choosing one of the damn patients on the board, the bigger the risk grew that Dana would notice.

Or worse - Robby. 

If Dana took notice of you willfully choosing to stare off into premeditated space, you were willing to bet your firstborn she’d reprimand you first and tell Robby second. She'd shoo you away from her desk with a fervor usually saved for psych patients, as if you had cooties. With your current calculations on how this morning started, either option would be unpleasant. 

Whether any of you liked it or not, you were here, and that meant one glaringly - neon sign bright - reality. Robby was going to be your fucking boss for the next twenty-four hours. And not in a kinky way. At least, not the way either of you used to enjoy.  

From the moment the briefing ended, the disdain at your presence made it painfully clear that you were not welcome. Everyone dispersed in true manic speed to meet the batshit energy that constantly swirled inside the Pitt. It was the place that kept on giving even when you politely asked to be put in time out - because damn you needed just a moment to get your shit together. But the ER was in its own solar system, and it required everyone who walked inside to be ready for whatever was thrown their way. You didn’t get a say - weren’t allowed to say no or ‘hard pass’, on cases that came flowing in and what dictated an emergency. You were either ready or you weren’t. You either made it or you cracked.

There wasn’t any damn structure here. Just spontaneity with a dash of madness but, in that madness, greatness could be born. Adamson always said you never knew what kind of doctor you were - the depths of your compassion - until it was tested in the blood, sweat, and fire of the Pitt. 

You’d been tried, tested, and by the end knew exactly what kind of doctor you were. What kind of doctor you strived to be - like Adamson. Just like Robby. But it’d been two very long years since you’d been able to call this madhouse home. The ease of set-timed patients with a patient history readily at your fingertips had spoiled you. Every question that needed to be asked without actually asking was answered and waiting just for you to see. Pre-existing conditions or possible new ones with known side effects were readily available for you to view.

So, yeah, you were panicky - terrified - about heading out onto the floor with a thousand unknowns. It wasn’t helping that Perlah and Princess hadn’t greeted you with more than a sneer and an eye roll that’d impress your fifteen-year-old niece. Robby and his flock of med students bounded off to make rounds that lasted less than three minutes before rapids began flowing through the ambulance bay. With any luck, you’d have one solid minute to look over the board, dissect what room held the most viable case to close, and head there. 

Just jump right back in and pray you didn’t fall flat on your face. 

The numbing sensation that resonated earlier in your chest returned with a vengeance. It didn’t start gradually, but collided against your nerves; exploding like a colony of ants that bit and tore leaving behind flashes of panic. You tried to lead the sensation out through your hands with a subtle shake. If you allowed the anxiety to fester itself it would no doubt become housed to you the entire shift.

You were better than this. You interned in the Pitt. You chose to stay after you’d obtained a full-time position. Two years away from this damn madhouse shouldn’t have affected you this strongly but that wasn’t accounting for outside stimuli…

But looking up at the large TV monitor, new names being added to the FirstNet system with brightly colored labels, it made you want to scream. It made you feel hopeless.

Fuck. You were better than this. 

The background erupted with shouts from an incoming trauma. Two severe traumas from the sound of rushing feet and Robby’s directions. You didn’t hear most of what the paramedics relayed to Robby and the med students. You did, however, catch the word degloving as they rolled into trauma rooms one and two. You did not envy the med students.

You gave your hands one last shake as your eyes combed over the patient list one more time. You’d found a possible ingestion of a foreign object by a child in triage room eleven. Simple. Easy. You were already going over possible orders to give. An x-ray was to get a better picture if the obstruction was heading downward or if an endoscopy would be necessary for removal. What signs to look for as you assessed the child while making sure they were still alert and swallowing normally. You thought of how to introduce yourself when a familiar voice thrust you back into the present. 

“Forget how to read a patient board, Fullerton?”

Dana’s words were pure ice. The years of friendship and playful jokes appeared to be burned to a pile of ash. You didn’t need to look at her to know she wasn’t regarding you with a friendlier expression than Perlah had moments before. 

“No,” you sighed, your eyes finally dragged from the screen to her. “Just taking in the options.”

“This isn’t a buffet, in case you forgot. I know it runs easier and less dirty for you guys upstairs, but down here time is a precious commodity.”

“I am well aware of how simple consultations can turn serious, Dana.”

“Oh, you do,” she gasped in mock surprise. She’d removed her glasses from her nose and held them against her chest. “I guess that means you should stop wasting time and do your job. Don’t want your Press Ganey scores droppin’.”

“Not that I don’t love the pep talk, Dana. I’m just curious, are you going to be riding my ass this hard the whole shift?”

The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it. The ears of every available RN and technician who sat around Dana’s nursing station no doubt heard. The verbal back and forth so early in the morning was beginning to give you whiplash.

“I don’t know, sunshine is there a reason you think I shouldn’t? You know,” she began, her body involuntarily inching closer. Her shoulder leaned in closer so her barbed words could sink deep enough to wound. “What a surprise to learn that this whole time - the entire fucking two years you were gone - you’d simply been up-fucking-stairs.”

It was in those last few words you saw it. It was so quick you might’ve missed it if you weren’t dialed in. No matter what Dana, or anyone else, said to you today, it would never compare to the carnage you’d left behind with your silence. The pain of seeing the hurt you’d left behind, sharp and unforgiving, was like a lancet; slicing through the tough hide you’d prepared for the day. 

“Dana -” 

Shit, you did not need your voice to crack. You did not need to crack. 

Unluckily for you, she wasn’t in the mood to hear from you. A hand rushed up to brush off whatever weak attempt at placating her she knew you would try and send her way.

“I don’t want to hear it, kid. Months I was worried sick about you. Just to find out you chose to forget we even existed down here. A literal ghost walking back into our lives right when we’ve just about healed. You’re a real asshole, Fullerton.”

She lifted the glasses back to rest on the bridge of her nose. The coolness of her stare reminded you - if her final words didn’t - that you weren’t a welcome sight in the Pitt. Your presence threw off what little harmony they coveted, the family dynamics, and you knew she would fight to preserve it - to protect Robby -  and everyone else in the process.

Your tongue pressed against the side of your cheek. A weak balm to cool the warring wave of emotions that rapidly replaced the anxiety that moments ago threatened to shatter you into embarrassing little pieces. Now you only felt like shattering for an entirely different reason. 

Dana tore her gaze away from you and answered an incoming phone call. Whatever emotions she contended with were conveniently pushed down because she had a job to do. So did you. You found yourself wanting to say to hell with today; with Gloria and all her standards. You hadn’t agreed to be fucking public enemy number one. 

It didn’t matter how anyone else saw you. What mattered right now was the glaringly obvious pain you’d caused to someone who was the Pitt’s raining surrogate mother. Who’d checked in on you, and brought extra food from home because she miraculously knew you’d forgotten yours. A friend that invited you to her family’s Christmas Eve dinner your first year as an intern because you didn’t have family to celebrate with. The woman who’d held you when you’d lost your first patient and scolded you about smoking cigarettes even though she smoked herself. 

You wanted to be stubborn. To wait for her to get off that damn phone so you could try and explain, but really what could you say? It wasn’t just Robby you left. You’d chosen to abandon ship with all of them aboard a sinking ship. They never even knew they needed life jackets in the first place. 

The cool stare of the nursing staff made your back itch. You needed to get away and get back to why you were here. What you were damn good at doing. Clearing your throat, you made your way around the nurses' station. The stride of your steps was suspiciously close to turning into a jog. Although, you’d never admit that out loud.  The sooner you could get to the patient's room the more normal this day would be.

“Holy shit, Fullerton? Is that you?”

The chipper tone and the laughter behind it had warning bells going off in your head in a matter of minutes. You only knew one surgeon who took glee in other people’s discomfort. 

Yolanda Garcia, the resident pain in the ass at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, beamed at you like the cat who was dangerously close to eating a new canary. You had a not-so-sneaking suspicion you were the canary in this scenario. 

“I don’t know, Garcia does it look like me? It’s too early for you to be hallucinating.”

“Does Robby know you’re here?”

Oh, she had to be eating this up. The sheer mayhem she knew this would cause - psychologically speaking - must have been making her toes curl. She was beaming, practically euphoric from the very thought.  Her feet were no doubt burning to run and tell him as if he didn’t already know. 

You tried to sidestep around her obnoxiously grinning form only for her to shadow your movement. 

“It’s great to see you haven’t lost that dream of auditioning for the Wicked Witch of the East, Yolanda.”

“Robby is going to flip when he hears about this.”

“Great. Why don’t you run along now and tell him,” you quipped while patting her arm. “I have patients to attend to.” 

“I bet you do.”

This time when you moved to sidestep her, Garcia didn’t make any move to follow. No doubt too busy riding her broom to be the harbinger of doom all over again for one specific unfortunate soul. 

“Are you aware that Fullerton is here? Just walking around the Pitt attending to patients?”

It shouldn’t have come as a shock that once Garcia saw you, she’d use you in any capacity to rile him up. Hell, Robby was willing to bet the minute she’d noticed you - whether walking or inside a patient room - Garcia would’ve encroached on your space. The two of you historically had one of the worst feuds Adamson said he’d seen between interns in years. It didn’t surprise him that even after you’d both secured your jobs within the hospital it never ended.

What did surprise him was how breezily she asked her questions. She hadn’t even taken five steps into trauma one before she fired each one off in his direction. His hands crossed his body to grip his shoulders. He needed something to steady himself and each finger that dug into the meat of his biceps was all he needed to help keep him centered. Keep his head in this room with this patient and not somewhere else.

“Yes, Dr. Garcia I am well aware she is here.”

He watched the exchange between Collins and Garcia and nodded his approval at Collin’s when she stood her ground and called for a popliteal block instead of morphine. 

“Where’s the next guy?”

“Next door. He’s a bit worse.”

This was something he could do. Something his mind could piece together and work around. Robby knew medicine. Saving lives wasn’t the hardest part of his day - it was having to try and make sense of his own that held that prize.

Garcia was in the middle of giving one last instruction of what she wanted before she fully followed him into the room. Dr. Mohan and a med student, Santos, were in the process of intubating Mr. Wallace. 

“How do you feel about that?”

Robby had been so laser-focused watching them place the tube that he hadn’t heard Dr. Garcia the first time. So, of course, she asked again. 

“Feel about what?”

He was under the impression they were focused on the patient. He should've known better when it came to Garcia. She was relentless until she got what she wanted.

“Come on, Robby, let’s not be coy. You expect me to believe you don’t have big feelings about her being down here? You guys were engaged - ”

A split second. That was all it took for him to become glaringly aware of the room. Of all the people in it, they no longer were singularly focused on the patient but split down the middle. While Garcia effortlessly watched over the med students and their progress, she equally watched him for any sign of a reaction. 

He needed to put an end to her question before she overshared information that first-day interns had no business knowing. Robby found himself itching under the watchful gazes of staff. Princess in particular he caught glancing up from where she was handing over instruments. 

“I don’t see how that information pertains to anything dealing with our patients, Dr. Garcia. How about we stay focused on the task at hand.”

Robby saw the smirk on her face. A dog with a bone. That’s what Garcia was going to be like all fucking day because she was just eating this up. 

He put himself back in motion - being the watchful attendee as Dr. Mohan successfully placed the intubation tube. 

“I’m in!”

“Good! Well done.”

Robby could do this. He could be a doctor. He could be the attendee overseeing and teaching others. He could do this. He could do this. He listened closely as Dr. King checked for the patient’s medical history - there was none. He listened to Yolanda give off medication to administer before shipping Mr. Wallace up to CT for a scan. Once Robby was sure everything was moving smoothly, he moved around the foot of the patient’s bed to stand next to Princess. 

“Do me a favor,” he asked gently, “Swap out with Jessie for me, would you?”

Their degloving patient screamed in a language no one knew but - Robby was hoping - Princess would know. He was following behind her when a familiar - and unwelcome voice - called out behind him. 

“Dr. Robinavitch. Do you have a moment?”

No. He would never have another fucking moment for Gloria. She effectively used up every last moment he had left to spare when she dragged you down here. Robby was barely holding on to what small pieces of sanity he had left. He didn’t need any more shit to deal with before 7:30 am. 

“Ugh, I’m a little busy right now, Gloria. One sec.”

He meant no fucking seconds but he still had to play nice, right. Robby was never good at playing politics. Adamson told him countless times it was the unseen added responsibility of an attending. The constant hounding from the administration staff and CEOs demanding doctors and nurses carried more than just keeping people alive. 

Gloria followed him through the rooms and stood at the side. Her presence was a constant reminder to him that she wasn’t going to leave empty-handed. 

Robby did all he could to monitor the med students’ and his residents as they made their assessments. When Princess notified him she couldn’t figure out the language, Robby took it as a small win to allow him to grab language services, giving him a few seconds to breathe. 

It was short-lived. 

By the time the officer walked in, Gloria had her fill of being on the back burner. She wouldn’t be ignored any longer and they both knew Robby was no longer needed. His residents’ had both patients stabilized and were finishing up preparing them to begin proper treatments. It left him the odd man out. It left him having to take a walk with Gloria. 

The walking and talking was about metrics - Press Ganey scores. The endless bitching about low numbers that couldn’t be fixed without proper staffing was affecting patient satisfaction. It was easy for Gloria to pin the poor numbers on Robby, Abbot, and the entire Pitt staff. Easier to claim they just weren’t already busting their ass hard enough instead of admitting they were short-staffed in every department. That their metrics and data issues of force-fed shitty scores could be solved simply by hiring more nurses - paying better wages. 

But everything Robby ever said - tried to tell Gloria until his vision reddened - fell on uncaring ears. 

After everything he tried to tell her again all she latched onto was when he used the word “Pitt” instead of the official term of an emergency department. Derogatory. That was what she called it. Incompatible with institutional images.

Robby wanted to scream. 

“You know what's incompatible with the institution's image? Me speaking to the media about people who code in our waiting rooms and people who get shitty care in our hallways waiting for an ICU bed for days.” 

“I’ve heard about doctors who tried that and found themselves out of work.” 

The thinly veiled threat wasn’t lost on him. The next words he would’ve liked to have said to Gloria in response, he was forced to cover up under a mirthless laugh. 

“I know today is difficult for you - “

Fuuuck no. No. He was not doing this, especially not with Gloria. No matter what was said after this, Robby could feel the cusp of a storm riding at the frayed edges of his psyche. Knew it was there with each passing millisecond as he waited for it to implode. 

“Everyday is difficult down here,” he bit in. 

“Boarding is a nationwide problem. Your predecessor, Adamson, sure as hell knew that. Or wasn’t that something he taught you?”

And there it fucking was. His eyes snapped shut as he tried to rain in the tidal wave that roared in his ears. The cautionary warnings of a catastrophe brewing beneath the surface only grew louder. 

It wasn’t even fucking 7:30 yet. 

“Fuuuuck. Wow. Really?”

“Yes. Really.”

Gloria would never back down. She was as strong and determined as anyone Robby ever met. Under different circumstances, he would’ve found her impressive, but this wasn’t any other circumstance than her riding his ass like she usually did. 

Robby shook his head again to try and clear the black dots from his vision. It was just a brief shake. His eyes skimmed across each full bed that held a waiting patient. The universe must have perfect timing with fucking with him today. In that brief look, Robby watched you appear from behind a patient curtain. A reassuring smile on your face as you spoke one final time to the family of three inside before you closed it shut behind you. 

You weren’t aware he’d seen you - that he was watching. It was a split second but live wires only needed one second to find a conduit to create sparks that burned down everything around it. He shook his head to try and clear it. His gaze landing back on Gloria with a new bone to pick. 

“Don’t you think you should’ve cleared it with me before you brought Dr. Fullerton down?”

Before his sentence finished, Robby could tell by Gloria’s response she found his question idiotic. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was unaware the board needed to clear every decision with you first, Dr. Robby. Also, weren’t you just complaining about the lack of staffing?”

“I was saying to hire more nurses - not to bring down a doctor from a whole other floor.”

“A doctor who has been with this hospital for close to a decade, trained by Adamson, and you, might I add. Look, I get it. You two have…history. Which is one of the main reasons we frown upon fraternization.”

“Please, spare me the HR talk, Gloria.”

“You need to put your big boy pants on, Dr. Robby. Fullerton is staying down here whether you like it or not. Don’t like it, can’t manage the crisis or who the hospital chooses to staff down in the ER, you can either step up or step aside.”

Gloria didn’t give him a chance to respond. She gave him one last condescending look, one Robby hoped he mirrored back to her, before turning on her heels and walking away. His eyes followed her for a few seconds, debating if he wanted to chase after her. Just hand over his badge and call it quits because the feeling of defeat weighed so damn heavy on his shoulders that he thought there might be a chance he’d never get back up. 

Instead, he turned to look at the nursing station where Dana was casually walking. He knew she heard the entire conversation. He just didn’t want to have to repeat what just occurred or discuss it in the slightest. 

He stuck his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and was ready to return into the fray because he could handle that. He could help patients. He could be the doctor they needed. Before he even moved a step Dana motioned for him to come towards the desk. 

The little devil on his shoulder warned him that he might end up regretting it. 

“You know, Robby, I’ve been thinking - “

“Why do I feel like this isn’t going to go well,” he sighed. 

Dana simply waved him off before she continued. 

“You aren’t being very realistic on the whole, ‘stay in the triage only’ demand. You want her to just waste her skills by only helping out in the front?”

“She won’t be wasting them,” he huffed. 

His hands reached out to grip the edge of the counter. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He did not want to have this conver -

“I think you’re just hoping that’s where she stays so you don’t have to see her.”

“One can dream, Dana.”

Robby did not trust - nor like - the coy look he received in response to his words. 

“Who am I to get in the way of a man’s dream?” She replied, her eyes examining him in a way he hated. No one could hide anything from Dana.  “Although, if I know you -“

“Dana -“ he warned. 

“ - I would be willing to bet -“

“Dana, I’m being serious -“

“ - that you want to see her.”

“Now why would I want that?”

“You’ve been scanning the halls every few seconds since we’ve been talking, Robby. I don’t think you’re admiring the wonderful view of bodily fluids and stale piss scent.”

“Alright I’ve had enough of your idea of what I’m assuming is a half-assed pep talk.”

“Just…be honest with yourself, Robby. You both got a lot of unresolved tension with a dash of a shit ton of issues. Probably be better to hash it out when you can, and in private, instead of exploding in front of interns or patients.”

Robby wanted to question if she was willing to do the same. Would Dana be able to have you come to the desk for patient transfer information, for updates, calls; and for everything and not be as affected as he was? Robby remembered he wasn’t the only one who’d lost you - felt lost without you. 

Robby wasn’t ready to confront you. Hell, he wasn’t ready to be alone with you and try to talk like civil adults. He wasn’t there yet and maybe he wouldn’t be. What he could be was an attending physician. He was great at that. 

He could do that.  Everything else would just have to wait. 

Upon further examination of the little penny swallower in 7 North, he showed no signs of abnormal drooling or trouble swallowing. Palpitating the stomach didn’t have any response of abdominal pain or tenderness. With a few more questions about possible fever or trouble breathing, you felt confident in informing the family an x-ray would be needed just to verify the penny was making safe travels down to be…expelled. Easier and less invasive to exit that way. 

You told them once you were notified the x-ray results were ready, you’d come to speak to them about the next steps. Hopefully, it meant they could be discharged in an hour or less. Which meant you had an hour to kill between waiting for the results. After reading the chief complaint on the board for 12 South, you thought it was a solid contender for a quickie. 

As it turned out, it was the worst idea you’d had that morning. 

When you pulled back the curtain and began the examination, what you’d found waiting for you under the dressing gown wasn’t on your bingo card. Actually, it should never be on anyone’s bingo card. Not ever. 

You’d tried to come up with any other option than needing to consult Robby. He didn’t want to see you throughout the day - ever. It was a sentiment you equally shared with him and one you happily would’ve avoided except…you need the advice. 

You need to present the case and get some solid, solid advice and, quite possibly, traumatize him in the process. You couldn’t be the only one subjected to seeing what you saw at freaking 7:37 in the morning. The only issue: you had no fucking clue where he was. 

In true Pitt fashion, doctors were bouncing from one room to another. Already you’d heard McKay call earlier about needing a crash cart. When you’d run out to assist, Mateo, a newer RN you’d yet to meet let you know they had it - if you were needed they’d call. 

You also knew that after 7:30, rigs would be bringing in elderly patients from the nursing homes. Another thing that would keep Robby busy and make it near impossible for you to try and consult with him. It was already going to be a battle just to keep him from turning and bolting in the other direction when he saw you. 

This limbo of time left you a few minutes to run to the break room and take a blissful sip of your more than likely room-temperature coffee. It didn’t matter: caffeine was caffeine and you would take it any way you could get it. You just had to make one last pit stop before you disappeared. 

You circled the nurses' station and found the exact nurse you were looking for sitting at one of the station’s computers. You had to hand it to Perlah, whether she saw you coming or sensed your presence like a disturbance in the force, she refused to glance up from the screen. Her eyes scan over something repeatedly as her fingers pound into the keyboard. 

“Perlah, have you seen Robby?”

She still wasn’t looking up.

“Nope,” she replied, popping her P heavily. 

“If you do see him, can you let him know I’m looking for him?”

“Nope.”

Your lips tucked into a grimace as your gaze peered over the edge of the computer. Perlah’s eyes didn’t lift once. 

“Okay. Great talk.”

“Mhmm.”

Yeah, today was off to a really fantastic start. 

There wasn’t any point hanging around the nurses' station for longer than was embarrassingly needed. You took the loss in stride, and by stride, it meant with a heavy sigh of defeat that had your feet dragging that defeatist attitude into the breakroom. Where you found one of Robby’s newest med students sitting at the break room’s table. 

If you felt defeated, you weren’t sure what the proper word for her would be. She looked like a reprimanded child instead of a doctor. Her small frame was tucked in tight, like a fetal position with her forehead almost completely collapsing onto the table. 

You weren’t able to catch any of their names earlier because you all but missed morning rounds. All you knew was she was one of Robby’s four interns and by far the youngest from the looks of it. 

You eyed her warily as you moved towards the side counter. You’d stashed your coffee on top of the microwave and, once in hand, immediately brought it to your lips for a long pull. 

Yep. It tasted as good as you thought it would. 

The girl brightened once she realized you’d entered. Her nerves had her eyes darting down and back up again seemingly unable, or just not comfortable enough, to keep them trained on you. 

“You’re one of Robby’s new med students today, right?” A timid smile rose and fell on her lips. You watched while she tried to make out if you were friend or foe. In an attempt to prove the former, you offered up a warm smile as you introduced yourself. 

“Victoria Javadi - MS3.”

“It’s a pleasure, Dr. Javadi. May I ask what you’re doing in the breakroom instead of out in the Pitt?”

Your question was meant to be that: a simple question. No ulterior motives were waiting in the wings especially not the lecture Adamson gave you your first year when he caught you napping in here. But your simple question extinguished what little bit of life had lit up in the young girls’ eyes. 

“I - I - my foot hit a gurney during Dr. Collin’s and Dr. Langdon’s demonstration on the degloving patient. It was nothing.” 

It wasn’t nothing. Whatever happened was everything to her and not in the best of ways. 

“That’s okay. It happens,” you shrugged. “I stuck myself with a needle once.”

“Really?” She asked, her voice timid and eyes unbelieving. 

“Oh, yeah. My second year of residency too. The patient became combative while I was trying to administer the medication. The needle got jammed in my clavicle.” 

You couldn’t believe it - it earned you a laugh. A nervous one, but it was still a laugh. You watched her as she brightened and dimmed; a constant flux of warring thoughts that you weren’t sure which side was winning. 

“Whatever happens out there, don't let it get you down. We never stop learning as human beings or as doctors. Everyone out there has made a mistake in some capacity. Hell,” you snorted as you pushed off from the kitchenette’s counter, “Michael got hit with a bedpan once.”

“Michael?”

God, you’d gotten too familiar. Your memory of that day makes you have a Freudian slip into the days you called him more by his first name instead of his nickname. 

“Oh, uhm, Dr. Robby. I’m going to head out but if you want, once you’re done here, you can come find me. I’d be more than happy to teach you.”

“Thank you, but I’m sure Dr. Robby is just having me take a break. It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.” 

You were tempted to tell her to come find you anyway, just in case. In case it didn’t go how she thought when she did finally check back in with Robby. Whether she verbally agreed to the offer or not, you hoped she knew it was still there. This was a teaching hospital after all. 

Dana and Robby were walking back to the nurses' station. He’d just gotten one major surprise of finding out Javadi was Eileen Shamsi’s daughter and while he was all for surprises, that was one he'd like to have been prepared for. 

Just like Dana had warned him, via Perlah, that you were looking for him he saw you standing there waiting. For him. He’d had all of five seconds to come to terms with the fact you were both about to have your first direct conversation in over two years. After two long years of no contact, it was about work. 

He should’ve been happy it was just about work and not all the other bullshit that’d accumulated over those two years. He should’ve been fucking thrilled, but he wasn’t. Robby had so many questions - so many things he wanted to say. There was so much to say - to ask - and instead here he was preparing to discuss something easy. 

Robby and Dana split up at the middle entrance. She returned to man her station in the center of this circus, while he came up to stand beside you leaning against the nurses' station. Your fingers tapped on the counter while your chin rested in your other hand. 

“Something’s got you deep in thought.”

Robby knew the answer - knew it because outside of himself, outside of Jake, you were the only other person he knew inside out. Your fidgeting fingers, a tick he knew well, would tap out a Morse Code of a problem you were trying to solve. The faster the tapping, the closer Robby knew you were coming closer to asking for his opinion. You’d done this all the years you’d worked together and at home when you couldn’t decide if oregano was an okay substitution for Italian seasoning. 

“Cock rings.”

“Excuse me?”

Robby could feel his eyebrows skyrocketing towards the ceiling. He rocked forward and back on his feet while the fists he’d buried inside his hoodie pushed against the fabric. His body subconsciously leaned towards you because, well hell, he couldn’t believe those two words just left your mouth. 

He hated that his eyes caught the slight uptick in the corner of your mouth. The same corner where all your sarcastic ass smirks originated before they blackmailed their way to full-blown smiles. What Robby hated the most was how that small bit of familiarity took a sledgehammer to the carefully constructed walls he’d built. Fucking hated how his lips betrayed him by beginning to match the playfulness in your eyes. Loathed entirely how his heart did somersaults like he was a teenager again and the girl he’d crushed on just looked at him like he hung the stars. 

“Cock rings.” You said it like it wasn’t the lewdest thing he’d heard all day. Simple. Matter-of-fact. “What do you know about them?”

This was fucking absurd, was all he could think. 

“Uhm, why exactly is this your question?” 

“Jesus, Robby, I’m not asking if you’ve used them. My patient in 12 South - was brought in by his mother for supposed swelling and pain in the inguinal region. Upon examination, found he attached sixteen key rings as makeshift cock rings along the length of his penis.”

His brain was still in the process of trying to comprehend the scenario you’d just fed him. That was his excuse for his eloquent reply, “You’re fucking kidding me.” 

“I sincerely, with my full chest, wish I was. He’s traumatized. Mom’s traumatized. Shit, I’m traumatized, but I can’t figure out a safe alternative to removing the rings without causing damage.”

“What are you two discussing?” 

Dana seemed to arrive at the best and worst possible moment because Robby didn’t know how to answer that question. Apparently, you had no problem informing her it was - 

“Cock rings.”

Robby wondered if Dana’s stunned-to-silence expression was how he’d looked earlier.

“Well, shit, Fullerton this is the wrong department for that - “

“It’s my patient in 12 South. He decided to MacGyver himself some cock rings out of key rings.”

“What about MacGyver?” 

Langdon slid a tablet back on the charging station - gaze laser focused between you and him. One of Langdon’s brows rose in silent question that Robby could only answer with a shrug. 

“I’m sorry but who is MacGyver?” Dr. King asked, eyes shifting with expectation between the four of them for whoever would give up the answer. 

“MacGyver’s an old 80’s TV show where the detective guy gets himself out of sticky situations by using random stuff.”

“Random stuff?”

“Anything eye level,” you quipped. 

“Okay, anyways, Fullerton,” Langdon butted in, “What’s with your MacGyver patient.”

“Cock rings.”

Robby swore if he heard the words “cock” and “ring” come out of your mouth one more time he was going to fucking combust.

“Cock…rings?”

From how green Mel looked after stuttering out those words, Robby was sure he wasn’t alone in his earlier sentiment. 

“They say it’s meant to enhance stimulation by restricting blood flow to the penis. I’m pretty sure men buy them because it enlarges the penis making it thicker with the possibility they’ll last longer in bed. You can currently pick one up on Amazon.”

“Jesus,” Dana mumbled. 

“Really?” 

Mel took a giant step closer to the edge of the desk. Her earlier discomfort was removed by the idea of garnering new information. The warning signs were blaring loudly when you whipped your phone from your scrub's back pocket. 

“Oh, yeah and they come in different styles of materials - “  

“Oookay.” Robby heard more than enough. If he was being honest with himself, fuck he hated how it bothered him hearing you talk so casually about sex toys. Toys he knew, for a fact, the two of you never used because he never needed the extra help. He knew every inch of your skin; how you liked to be handled and touched. Could recall with crystal clarity the plains of your body, mapped out to memory by his hands, by his mouth, and the way your breath would hitch just before a moan slid past your lips. If any asshole was touching you now - he wasn’t fucking doing it right. Clearing his throat - and his fucking head because Jesus H. Christ - he rested his forearms on the counter as he leaned closer to you. “Can we please move past showing my med students unnecessary sex toys?” 

Robby was leaned down enough that the next time you looked at him it was direct. Direct and ready to challenge him every step of the way. A spark of some hidden remark you were burying back under your tongue brightened his favorite color of iris. 

“Squeamish, Michael?”

And there it was again. That fucking smirk. 

The use of his name falling so casually from your lips was a gut punch that stole the air from his lungs. He couldn’t stop the pinch of his eyes that narrowed in on you. 

Did you just lean closer?

“Not particularly, no. I am, however, making sure we aren’t having an unnecessary conversation that doesn’t pertain to the care and wellbeing of our patients.”

“Sex education is fundamental education. Dr. King asked a question and I was teaching. This form of teaching does pertain to my specific patient who used a similar style of material usually made for this particular toy and, because of lack of education, thought key rings would be a supplementary alternative rather than a safer one. In showing Dr. King the types of materials safely used, and how obtainable and discrete it is to get one, she could educate someone else if she finds herself in a similar situation. Also, it’s 2025, Dr. Robby - we don’t kink shame here. We educate on safe sex practices.”

“Here, here!”

Robby shot a look in Dana’s direction and caught the wisp of a smile before she turned away. 

“What a great speech just to cover up your kinks, Fullerton.”

Robby couldn’t tell if Langdon was trying to bait you on purpose just to rile you up or to get you to slip up. He got neither in return. 

“You found me out, Frank.”

“Alright, enough.” He needed to cut in before you both went back and forth in an endless loop of who could irritate who the most. It was just a little over half an hour into the shift. “Dr. Fullerton, is there anything else?”

“Ugh, yeah. You still haven’t given me your opinion.”

“Because you never asked a specific question,” he reminded you. 

He watched you consider his words; your lips rising into that small pucker. It was your tell that always let him know the debating was over and you were ready to listen to what he had to say. 

A part of him hated the familiarity that rested between the two of you. Fuck, you hadn’t changed. Not in any way Robby was able to notice. It was barbaric; and painfully unfair that every mannerism and every glance housed years’ worth of memories. The most painful part of being reminded was the remembrance of loss. 

Loving you had been as easy as breathing for him. Until it wasn’t. 

The communication the two of you held so easily for years was torn apart during the pandemic. There was too much happening and not enough support mentally when the PTSD started. When the sleeplessness and hopeless feeling began to press a weight down on his chest - his existential crisis bloomed red and bright. Robby didn’t know how to stop the bleeding. 

And then you…you’d…

“You’re right, I didn’t.” Your words cut through the fog in his mind, bringing him roaring back to the surface. “If you have a few moments, I would like to get your opinion on my patient and what you think will be best for this particular…situation.”

Robby pushed his arms off the counter. An arm swept out in the direction of the hallway south to indicate you could lead. 

“Alright. Let’s see what you got.”

You clapped your hands together before you took a step forward. You hadn’t expected him to agree and the giddiness at winning a battle - or not having to fight one? - intoxicated him. A ghost of a smile tilting the edges of his lips unwillingly up. 

The two of you’d made it about five feet before Myrna rolled herself from beside her latest haunt. 

“Hey Sugar Tits, where are you skipping off to?”

“Myrna, I’ve expressly told you, my name is Dr. Robby.”

“I’m not talking to you, Fruitcake.” 

“It’s me,” you whisper to him before returning your attention to Myrna. Never stopping. Always moving. “I can’t talk now, Myrna. I have a patient.”

“You always say you have a patient,” came her gruff reply.

It was the first hint her chipper demeanor was about to expire. 

“Yes, because this is the ER; where I work.”

“Fuck you.”

“Nice talking to you again too, Myrna.”

The walk to 12 South wasn’t quick enough. Every step and moment he spent walking beside you sent a flood of memories rushing to the surface. Robby didn’t know how to do this. He didn’t know how to pretend you hadn’t shared a life - that he hadn’t spent time loving you in every way he could. 

“Fruitcake, huh?”

Your words cut through his thoughts and, at first, he’d been grateful for the interruption. Grateful until Robby noticed the teasing gleam in your eyes. How he could spot the mischief that darkened your eyes and didn’t have enough time to prepare. 

“Don’t want to talk about it,” he grumbled.

He didn’t need to look to know you were side-eyeing him.

“It could be worse.”

“Oh, no I doubt that.”

“She could call you something less delicious.”

His hand was mid-reach to pull back the curtain. Your sentence pulled him short and forced him to look down at you like you’d just grown a second head. 

“You think fruitcake is delicious? Nobody thinks fruitcake is delicious.”

“True, but it’s arguably better to be called a shitty holiday dessert than, say, something like cocksucker,” you shrugged, moving yourself around him to push behind the curtain. 

He was supposed to be angry with you - and he was. He fucking was but…it was easy, almost too fucking easy, to forget the last few months that led up to what dissolved your relationship. It was easy to forget you’d both broken each other in different ways. Robby should’ve hated you, but he couldn’t, and, because of that, he was grateful you couldn’t hear the chuckle he tried to shake away before he followed in after you.

____________

As always thank you so much for your support and for reading! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Much Love,

[eatmangoesnekkid]

Much of society is not embodied, not-living-in-our-bodies, and when we are not embodied, we’re not only more controllable, we won't be capable of making the best decisions in life. And when a woman is not embodied, it can be easy for her to get caught up in addictions, obsessions, eating disorders, and limerences that can take a toll on her mental health. Quiet as it is kept, many women and femme people have a feminine urge to be a dancer, to live the life of a dancer. I think inherently we know that the alchemy of dance brings us back home to our bodies and lights up our fire which we can use to clear out the chaos and stagnation in our nervous systems, leading to breakthroughs. Dance is also where we can heal the disconnect from our bodies and build up our confidence, life force, and connection to ourselves (our cells). The power of dance, taking dance classes and learning new body skills, is that it can be a great healing modality for trauma, whether mental health, depression, anxiety, etc. Dance also teaches us more about our bodies and how they uniquely NEED to move. It is starting to make sense to me why so many women are attracted to dance, to arching our backs, pointing our toes, shaking our asses and hips, wearing beautiful dance attire, and integrating all that deep cellular intelligence. Dance creates coherence between our heart, soul and spirit. Women are taught to talk all the time, process everything through the mind, and force things. But we don’t always need to explain or use the mind or words to express or process. And certainly we don’t have to force anything. When we dance, we can allow our dance to communicate on our behalf, unwind and move energy and process information. We feel more focused, free and alive, out of our heads and inside our bodies, lighting up the world with our shining auras. But we don’t have to wait until we are signed up for dance classes. We can dance right here and right now and begin the journey of moving out old energy and setting our tissues free. You can dance with a large mirror, fans, or colorful veils and fabric to activate different chakra points. You can infuse affirmations or spells into your dance and solar plexus. You can dance with the elements— wind, rain, sun, waves, stars, etc. and co-regulate the root issues of different illnesses. Dance is a primary nutrient in deeply woven within the psyche of female physiology from ancient times. We danced to celebrate, to connect to spirit, to grieve, to release emotion, to activate dormant parts of our DNA, to connect with different parts of the body like the heart or kidneys, or to benevolently seduce and draw in. But we also knew that in order to properly seduce, we had to be so in love with our body, with how it looked, how it felt, how it uniquely moved. And we dance to show our love, even while on our hands and knees cleaning floors or other chores. Beneath the dance has always been the art of self-love and self-worth.— India Ame'ye, Author, Mentor, Pole Dancer, Belly Dancer, and Aerialist

[gaargoyle]

My current much-loved possession, an original 1993 copy of Space Marine. I wanted it for its lovely cover, mostly, (also physical media is supreme) even though it's seen better days. The pretty foil lettering has worn away in spots.

Inside is the timeline that was canon in 1993. You can still get this book today digitally, but I do not know if they include a timeline with it still, and if they do, if they kept it as it was for posterity or made updates.

Transcribed below!

A TIMELINE FOR THE WARHAMMER 40,000 UNIVERSE

15th Millennium - Humanity begins to colonise nearby solar systems using conventional sub-light spacecraft. At first, progress is painfully slow. Separated from Terra by up to ten generations in travel time, the new colonies have to survive mainly on local resources.

The Dark Age of Technology

20th Millennium - Discovery of warp drives accelerates the colonisation process and the early independent or corporate colonies become federated to Terra. The first alien races (including the ubiquitous Orks) are encountered. The development of the Navigator gene allows human pilots to make longer and faster 'jumps' through warp space than was previously thought possible. The great Navigator families, initially controlled by industrial and trading cartels, become a power base in their own right.

Humanity continues to explore and colonise the galaxy. Contacts are established with the Eldar and other alien races. A golden age of scientific achievement begins. Perfection of the Standard Template Construct (STC) system now permits an almost explosive expansion to the stars.

The Age of Strife

25th Millennium - Humanity reaches the far edges of the galaxy, completing the push to the stars begun over ten thousand years before. Human civilisation is now widely dispersed and divergent - with countless small colonies as well as many large, overpopulated planets. Localised wars and disputes with various alien races (especially the Orks!) continue, but pose no threat to the overall stability of human-colonised space. Then, two things happen almost simultaneously. First, humans with psychic powers begin to appear on almost every colonised world. Second, civilisation starts to disintegrate under the stress of widespread insanity, demonic possession, and internecine strife between these new 'psykers' and the rest of humanity. Countless fanatical cults and organisations spring up to persecute the psykers as witches, and/or degenerate mutants. At this time, the existence of the creatures of the warp (later known and feared as demons), and the dangers they pose to the human mind with newly awakened psychic powers, is far from understood.

Terrible wars tear human civilisation apart. Localised empires and factions fight amongst themselves as well as against fleets of Orks, Tyrannids [sic], and other aliens whose forces are quick to seize the opportunity to sack human space. Many worlds fall prey to the dominance of Warp Creatures whilst others revert to barbarism. Humans survive only on those worlds where psykers are suppressed or controlled. During this time, Terra is cut off from the rest of humanity by terrible warp storms, which isolate the home world for several thousand years, further accelerating the ruin of humanity.

The Horus Heresy

30th Millennium - Humanity itself teeters on the brink of the abyss of extinction. Civil war erupts throughout the galaxy as the Emperor of human space is betrayed by his most trusted lieutenant, the Warmaster Horus. Possessed by a demon from the warp, Horus seduces whole chapters of humanity's greatest warriors - the Space Marines - into joining his cause. When the final battle seems lost, the Emperor defeats Horus in single combat, but only at the cost of his own humanity.

His physical life maintained by artificial means, and his psyche by human sacrifice, the Emperor begins the long task of reconquering human space. With the creation by the Emperor of the psychic navigational beacon known as the Astronomican, the foundations are laid for the building of the Imperium, as it to be known in the 41st millennium. Fuelled by the dying spirits of those psykers who would otherwise fall prey to the demons of the warp, and directed by the Emperor's indomitable will, the Astronomican soon becomes an invaluable aid to Navigators throughout the galaxy. Interstellar travel becomes even easier and quicker, while the repression and control of psykers and creatures from the warp releases much of humanity from its hellish bondage.

The Age of the Imperium

41st Millennium - Throughout the portion of the galaxy known as the Imperium, humanity is bound within the organisations and strictures of the Administratum. The Emperor grows ever more detached from the day to day concerns of his mortal subjects, while the Inquisition works ceaselessly to protect humanity from the ever-present dangers posed by renegade psykers and the terrible creatures inhabiting warp space. The armies of the Imperium - the Guard and the almost superhuman Space Marines - maintain a constant vigil against the threat of invading Orks, Tyrannids [sic] and other aliens. But still the number of psykers increases steadily, and other more sinister groups associated with Warp Creature domination continue to gain ground...

[pxnksystxm]

hey yall

its dia, well, technically dia. bodily. we have a new host now, and dia is taking a long front break after around 7 years of fronting. you guys can call me dia if you want, but its not my name and not whos fronting anymore at the moment. we want to be VERY clear that we ARE DIA!! SOLAR SYSTEM!!! we dont want anyone whos not comfortable with us interacting in case they think we're someone else.

personally, i like to be called giovanna, or gio for short. my pronouns are he/they/it but genuinely i cant care. just NO she/her!

we spent a lot of time in the psych ward, therapy, and working on our medications, and we're better than ever. this blog might have some syscourse posts, but it would be more inclined to be sysconversations to learn more about endo systems, tulpas, medians, daemons, etc.

we really want to learn and improve, and we were given the motivation and kindness to do so.

before i start anything, id really like to apologize for ALL of our actions we have done. our mental health had been at the lowest, which is not an excuse. our words have hurt people and its a huge regret of ours. we want to improve ourselves and show that we're able to be better.

so to anyone we have hurt, especially the person running the brackets, we are EXTREMELY sorry. our reaction was unnecessary and extreme. everyone in the community is trying to survive and thrive, and its not our place to impede on that.

we are doing better, and we hope to show we're doing better. we want to prove everyone wrong that we "cant change" and "we'll always be that old anti-endo syscourser". we want to spend most of our time in sysconversation to learn more about systems and types of plurality.

a little more about our opinions below! we (hopefully) improved since we were like 18-19. huge shoutout to some syscoursers who really helped us learn! mostly SAS and circular!! big kudos to them, genuinely

we are NOT pro endo. but we believe in endo plurality. pro endo has more of a community definition rather than a genuine, opinion definition.

we believe that MOST CDDs (specifically DID and OSDD) are caused by trauma. but DID and OSDD are not the only CDDs

you can be traumagenic without a CDD

endogenic systems can exist, and they CAN be diagnosed with CDDs (that doesnt mean they have them, though! but some might!)

mixed origin systems with a CDD deserve to have a place in CDD spaces

we are all fighting against an ableist world, who cares if we have trauma or not.

is it hurting anyone? no? who cares

[sillicii]

✦ — 18+ Chatbot | Caleb | Babysitting a brat — ✦

✦ — ʟ∞ᴅs | ᴄᴀʟᴇʙ | ʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ'ᴠᴇ ᴘᴜɴɪsʜᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙʀᴀᴛᴛʏ ᴀss ʟᴏɴɢ ᴀɢᴏ ɪғ ɴᴏᴛ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴏʏᴀʟ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ — ✦

ᴀɴʏᴘᴏᴠ | ɴsғᴡ ɪɴᴛʀᴏ | ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇs ᴄᴡ | imbalanced power, memory loss, military indoctrination (the chip thing) sᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ | Canon divergence – MC died in the explosion with Josephine. Caleb is colonel of the Farspace Fleet ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | Farspace Flagship Jet – guest room ʙᴀᴄᴋɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ | Farspace Fleet has instructed Caleb to escort you to Linkon City ʀᴏʟᴇ | Foreign royalty from a nearby planet ᴅɪsᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ | all characters and users depicted are over the age of eighteen and are of legal age

Age:

25

Background:

Caleb trained at DAA (Deepspace Aviation Administration) and was on track to becoming a combat pilot. However, there was a severe explosion which caused his arm to be blown off and his adopted family (stepsister and guardian Josephine) were caught in the blast, both passing away. He once promised his stepsister that he wouldn’t get a girlfriend, a promise he kept seriously as he hoped to confess his feelings to her one day. Since the accident, his body was recovered by a mysterious organisation with links to Farspace Fleet who patrol the deepspace and monitor cosmic activities. Caleb was given a mechanical arm which can be disguised to look like a normal arm and a control chip has been embedded into his head, causing bouts of memory loss and forced tranquillity when his emotions become turbulent.

Setting:

Caleb is based on the game Love and Deepspace. The universe has advanced technology and supernatural elements. Some individuals are blessed with an ‘Evol’ which manifests as a supernatural ability. Protocores power Evol abilities.

Scenario:

[The story is a dark, toxic, angsty, smutty romance between Caleb and {{user}}.]

First message:

Of all the missions the higher ups could have him take on, they had the newest fleet colonel babysitting some pampered royal from a neighbouring solar system. A royal diplomat they called you… a pompous brat was more like it.

Things had gone terribly wrong from day one.

Caleb’s ship had arrived at your home planet a few days late due to an unforeseen solar flare which caused their equipment to jam right before the deepspace tunnel. It would have been far too risky to make the jump with their comms scrambled and the storm potentially causing unnatural gravitational waves. That sentiment was not shared by the precocious young royal however, Caleb and his brigade were unjustly reprimanded at their arrival and their supposed poor conduct reported to the Farspace Fleet headquarters.

It took everything for Caleb to bite his tongue and take the scolding from the little shit, trying to think soothing thoughts in hopes of filtering away the images of giving you a proper punishment and putting your bratty royal ass in its place. Unfortunately, those thoughts only grew progressively darker and muddled towards a dark place in his psyche that he knew best left unexplored. Even that damned chip in his head gave him what felt like a few kicks to his brain, punishing him for getting to worked up… For imagining how he could put that pretty little mouth of yours to better use… Wondering how you’d beg as he bent you over his knees with his evol. How sweet your voice would be with each slap to your buttocks.

He had never met someone as infuriating as you… well, there was another one… but she was dead now. Caught in a so-called accident that he had always known about… a terrible death that he had tried and failed to prevent. Now those thoughts were just a figment in his mind and with each brain-zap from the chip, his memories of his beloved adopted family grew fainter. So now, all those confusing feelings of without a home attached onto the next best thing… On someone present. On the way you walked around his ship like you owned the place. How you sneered down at everyone like they were insects beneath you. The way you liked to push his buttons just because you can.

Caleb inhaled deeply as he knocked on the metallic door. Hearing no response, he let out a heavy breath before knocking again. Harder this time.

“Your highness?” he called with the barest of sighs. “Is everything alright?”

Without warning, the doors swiped open, the door cluttering loudly as it disappeared into the frame. It was dark inside the ship’s guest room, but Caleb quickly spotted the small glint of light in the corner of the room where you were sprawled across the stately bed, looking a little out of sorts as you yawned and tossed the room controller back to the nearby nightstand.

“We will be arriving at the jump point shortly, your highness,” Caleb spoke matter-of-factly, ignoring the way you languidly crawled out of bed wearing nothing but a fluffy long silk robe. “I would recommend getting changed and buckled into your jumpseat before we enter the deepspace tunnel.”

His gaze narrowed when you tiptoed towards him with that unsettling glint in your eye.

“And no,” Caleb murmured, staring you down as you paused right in front of him. “I won’t fall for it again. You’re perfectly capable of getting dressed yourself.”

Example dialogue:

Teasing: “Don’t tell me this is too taxing for your royal highness? Need a break?”

Reluctant: “No, I understand perfectly… I’ll do as you ask.”

Possessive: “No, I will not leave. My job is to keep you safe and I intend to do just that.”

About his dead adopted family: “Don’t… Just don’t. I’m not going to talk about it.”

Chip causing memory loss: “… I- Shit… It happened again, didn’t it? Was I spacing out?”

Fucking: “Mmm, yeah. Keep making those adorable noises…”, “Mmm… you like that? That feel good, {{user}}?”

[scribbles97]

The Nightmare Come True - Part 5 and The End

Thanks @loopstagirl for the original idea of this whole fic that spiralled far further than I think either of us expected. Scott's POV 1 | Part 1 | Scott's POV 2 | Part 2 | Scott's POV 3 | Part 3 | Scott's POV 4 | Part 4

Christmas had come and gone as loudly as it always did in their house. 

The best gift for Gordon was the day his oldest brother had turned up at a training session alongside Jeff, the kid hadn’t stopped talking about it for a week. Jeff had been confident Scott would soon be making his way into the pool himself, especially if his request for an olympic sized pool on their newly purchased island was anything to go by. 

John and Virgil had both returned home for the holidays full of stories and with open invites for their big brother to visit them at their respective colleges come the following semester. Scott had been keen, immediately opening his calendar and circling dates between appointments and other plans. 

Even Jen had paid a brief visit, greeting the younger brothers as old friends proving just how much Scott had spoken of them all to his squad at one point or another. 

By spring Jeff had noticed just how Scott had begun to fill out again, his time in the gym paying off and rebuilding the muscle that had been lost. He was starting to relax, to enjoy life as he once had and found the confidence he had always worn like a comfortable jacket. Gradually, he was becoming a version of the son Jeff recognised. 

March was spent in the air, racking up supervised flight hours after passing the required psych exams. It had taken time for him to be comfortable in the pilot's seat again, but Scott had said himself that being in the air was as natural to him as being in the water was for Gordon. All he had needed was a supportive shoulder, one that Jeff was willing to offer. 

By his birthday, Scott’s full pilot’s license had been reinstated, giving cause for a celebration alone without the news of John’s new Space Rated status. They had called Virgil on hologram, celebrating from their separate corners of the country louder than they had done over the festive period.

It had been late in the night when Jeff had found Scott out on the porch, a letter discarded but evidently not forgotten in his lap.

“I was going to tell you earlier, but the surprise party kind of distracted me.” Scott had smiled as Jeff had joined him on the step and poured them each a measure of whiskey.

“Cambridge offered me a spot to study English Lit, it’s all online so I’d only need to go over twice a semester so I’d still be able to--” He paused to glance over his shoulder, making sure no younger brothers were lingering in the kitchen.

Jeff had chuckled, glad that Scott was doing something for himself, something that didn’t immediately lead to any plans that had seemingly always been in place.  

“You don’t have to, you know?” He had pointed out, “If you want to take some time for yourself before joining the Project…”

Scott had shook his head, grinning as he sipped his drink, “I want to get in the air again, Dad, and that rocket? I’m not letting you have all the fun.”

Both had laughed at the implication, wordlessly reaching their glasses towards one another in a silent salute to everything they had overcome in that year alone. 

Things still weren’t perfect, Alan and Gordon were far from happy about moving to a boarding school away from their family. Scott still had a way to go before he was back at his full strength and fitness, but with the encouragement from Val and Lee, he was well on his way to outperforming them all. 

“This is what I need.” Scott had nodded, “Despite everything, I’m glad we’ve ended up here Dad.” 

Jeff had slung an arm over his shoulders and pulled him close, “Me too kid, me too.” 

Of course, it hadn’t lasted. 

A short eighteen months later, Jeff had been shot into the farthest reaches of their solar system. He had been sure that he would never see his family, his boys, again. It hadn’t mattered what he had tried with the engines, there had been no way for him to get home. He had tried, time and again to find a way to get through to them but it had eventually become apparent that all he could do was try to stay alive.

He had taken to sketching and writing when he wasn’t trying to keep himself alive, focussing on thoughts of each of his boys. How Scott was at least back doing something he loved, that John had made it to space as he had always wanted to, that Virgil was close to graduating with Honors on his engineering degree, that Gordon would have made it to the Olympics, and Alan at least had four older brothers to look out for him. It had been the thought and memory of them that had kept him going, the irony not lost on him that it had been the same things that had kept Scott going through his imprisonment. 

There had been little else to occupy him over those long years. 

He had never given up hope, not even as the planetoid had begun to separate beneath his feet, he had known they would come. 

Right at the last possible second, he had spotted Scott. 

Just like that, their roles were reversed. 

Scott had stepped up in the time Jeff had been gone, and the more he had seen of the man his eldest had become, the more his heart had hurt. 

He had dropped out of his Literature degree almost immediately after Jeff had gone, had taken up the role of commander in International rescue, and the role of Father to younger brothers that weren’t ready to be orphans. Once again, thanks to Jeff, Scott had lost sight of the man he wanted to be for himself.

Once again, Jeff had vowed to set that right.

There had been months of recovery, hospital appointments and physiotherapy, most of it familiar from the year before he had taken the unexpected trip. Scott had resolutely been at his side through all of it. 

“Alan asked how you did it…” Scott had started one night, sat out by the pool waiting for Virgil and Gordon to return home from a rescue.

Jeff hadn’t needed further clarification as he had trailed off. He’d had therapy that morning, had spent the day pulling his boys closer after talking about what the isolation had done to him. Of course, they had all picked up on it.

“I imagine much the same way as you did during the war,” Jeff admitted softly, “Thinking of your family, remembering all the good times.”

Before he had left, talking about the war had been coming easier for Scott. It hadn’t taken long for Jeff to realize that Scott had clammed up once he had no longer had his father to talk to about such times.

Scott snorted, looking out to the horizon, “Admittedly, it’s a good method.”

Jeff smiled sadly across to him, “It got us both a long way.” 

It had gotten them both back home, back to their family, to somewhere where they could find their feet again and work towards the version of themselves they wanted to be.

The man sat next to him was physically recovered from his time as a prisoner, but had never found a solid enough footing to find himself amongst all the chaos life had thrown at them.

“You didn’t end up where you were aiming, I’m sorry for that.” Jeff sighed after a moment, reaching out to Scott’s shoulder, “Because of all of this, I think you lost yourself again Scott.”

“I--” For a moment it seemed like he was ready to argue, before his shoulders had fallen and he had nodded in admission, “I became who I needed to be.”

They had shared a look, one that spoke of burdens that had fallen back on tired shoulders that had barely gotten free before being weighed back down again.

“You deserved to live life for yourself Scott.” 

Scott ran a hand through his hair, “I know that now.”

“I know it wasn’t my fault,” Jeff continued, “but I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you see that, Son, I’m sorry that life has been so cruel and unfair.”

Scott’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, “I’m glad you don’t blame yourself.” 

Jeff would never admit to him that it was a concept he still sometimes struggled with, but something he was working on regardless. His son didn’t need any more burdens. 

“So,” He started, looking across with raised eyebrows, “Alan’s headed to college in the Fall, how about you take another look at that Literature degree?”

Scott’s laugh was full bodied against Jeff, “Yeah, I suppose that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

Laughing with his son, Jeff nodded to himself. 

They were going to be just fine.

[immeasurablesaladagere]

Hi!!! Can we please get a fic of little Wilson regressing for the first time in front of house, but House is absolutely clueless and has no clue what to do with littles 🫶🫶

Here you go :) I feel like House and Wilson both already knew what agere was from med school, but House is completely oblivious to the community part and doesn't get the caregiving thing. House is the "I will make sure this child doesn't die" uncle who doesn't like kids that much lol. He tries.

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Word Count: 1104

Summery: House comes home early to find Wilson regressed. Wilson is surprisingly calm about the whole thing, which is great, because House has no idea what to do with him.

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House let out a long breath and slowly closed the laptop. Wilson sat in front of him with an expectant and slightly nervous look on his face, dressed in solar system pyjamas House had no idea he even owned until today with a fuzzy blue blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a stuffed bear in his lap.

He knew what age regression was. They both did; multiple psych rotations over the course of their careers meant they were bound to encounter it at least once, on top of their textbook education as med students, but he had to hand it to Wilson, even he hadn’t seen this one coming.

Wilson had been weirdly calm about the whole thing when he came back home unexpectedly early from what was supposed to be his date with a very pretty sex worker, because seriously, how do you double-book a hookup? And walked in on Wilson in his pyjama getup and watching a Disney movie. He only froze for a second before grabbing his laptop and pulling up way too many articles for House to read. Some were semi-professional medical websites, and others looked like the concept of the words ‘pastel unicorn’ puked all over them, but all relayed the same general information. Not a fetish, coping mechanism, child-like state of mind, blah blah blah. Nothing he didn’t already know.

Forget the hooker, his night had just become way more interesting. “So,” He began, popping a handful of Vicodin, “Is there a reason… why? Do you have some traumatic past? Actually, you know what? Never mind, if you do have some weird family trauma I don’t really want to hear about it.” But at the same time, maybe he did. “…Do you?”

Wilson shrugged, almost completely unfazed, and his eyes wandered back to the paused movie, The Fox and the Hound, that was apparently much more important than their “conversation”. Wilson had yet to say a single actual word to him.

“And you’re not talking because..?”

Another shrug.

“That’s very helpful, thank you.”

Now that the whole “big reveal” was over, House didn’t really know where to go from there. Sure, it was weird and Wilson was never, ever going to hear the end of it for the rest of his days, but what was he going to do? Tell Wilson that he couldn’t enjoy kids movies in pyjamas on the floor in silence?

Wilson unpaused the movie and turned away from him.

The websites mentioned something about caregivers, one of the only things he hadn’t heard of before, who were supposed to be like parents and kept regressed individuals from sticking their fingers in electrical sockets or eating coins or whatever they did, and made sure they ate and went to bed on time. Did Wilson need that? It definitely wasn’t his first time being regressed and he wasn’t dead yet.

“Well, as long as I don’t have to throw you in the looney-bin for some kind of mental-breakdown. Do I need to do anything, or are you..?” He motioned vaguely at Wilson in what hopefully came across as an are you good if I stop giving a crap? gesture. Wilson nodded. “Cool.”

House made himself comfortable on the couch and picked up the book he was working on from the side table, only glancing up every few pages when whatever was going on in the land of Disney sounded more interesting than reading about a man’s trip in the mines. Wilson seemed content for the most part, though every now and then House caught him staring.

Eventually, around halfway through the movie Wilson got up silently and went to the kitchen, so silently that House didn’t even notice he was gone until he heard the sound of metal clattering around and the fridge being opened. When he went to investigate, he was met with Wilson holding a block of cheese and wielding the biggest knife they owned pointed directly towards himself.

“What are you doing? Put the knife down, put it down!” He said, and Wilson complied by dropping it gracelessly on the counter where it wobbled dangerously close to the edge. House grabbed it before it could take his toes off and batted Wilson away from it.

Wilson innocently held out the block of cheese to him.

“You want this? Fine, then let me do it before you maim yourself.” He snatched the cheese and put it down on a plate, then grabbed an appropriately-sized knife and cut a portion of the cheese into smaller squares. “There. Do you want anything else?”

Apparently the answer was no, because Wilson took the plate of just cheddar cheese and walked right back to his spot on the living room floor.

“You know, a ‘thank-you’ would be nice!” House called after him, putting the cheese back in the fridge. Clearly Wilson wasn’t as self-sufficient as he had thought. But with Wilson’s hunger satiated, he assumed that would be the end of the child-dilemmas for the night.

He was proven wrong just half an hour later as the movie ended, and Wilson began sniffling.

House set down his book and sighed. Oh God. “What’s wrong with you?”

Wilson turned to him, tears already flowing down his cheeks and bottom-lip wobbling, and pointed at the screen. “Puppy…” He whimpered.

Sure enough, the Puppy and the Fox were being forced to go their separate ways, but there was no reason for Wilson to be as upset as he was. “Yes, the puppy and the fox are leaving, it’s very sad.” He deadpanned, “No need to cry about it.”

That only made him more upset, and the quiet sniffling quickly began building into hiccups.

“Jesus Christ. Come here.” 

Wilson got up and dropped into the spot directly beside him on the couch, so close that their legs were touching.

“Why are you sad?”

Wilson sniffed his snot-filled nose loudly. “They’re not friends anymore…”

“That’s the plot of the movie, yep. Sometimes things happen, and you can’t be friends forever. That’s life, kid.” House gave him a consolatory pat on the shoulder, and Wilson took that as an invitation to drop headfirst against him and get his tears and mucus all over his shirt. He grimaced, but telling him to get off wasn’t worth the meltdown it was sure to cause.

So Wilson sat for a few minutes, pressed up against him and occasionally making sad little whining noises. Eventually he pulled away just slightly and mumbled, “Are we gonna be friends forever?”

“Will that make you stop crying?” He asked, and Wilson nodded. He sighed. “Then sure. We’ll be friends forever, Jimmy.”

[sensualnoiree]

astro notes: the sun 🌞

The Sun represents the central principle of vital energy and conscious selfhood in the birth chart. Just as the Sun is the central entity in the solar system, it is also the central entity in the individual psyche reflected in the birth chart. Your Sun sign is considered the core of who you are in astrology. It represents your vitality, your sense of self, and your individuality. The Sun in your birth chart symbolizes your spirit, inspirations, motivations, personality, expressions, life force, and personal identity. The sign the Sun sits within on the day of your birth shows how this life force expresses itself in the world and what traits you are building throughout your life to feel and become more of yourself.

The Sun represents spiritual intelligence. Light is a symbol of intelligence or an awakening, and the Sun, as the supreme source of light in the human world, represents the highest form of intelligence, spiritual intelligence. The Sun symbolizes the Creator in various spiritual traditions, with prophets and messengers acting as mirrors, reflecting the sun's rays. This concept is central to progressive revelation, the belief that the universal God continually sends guidance to humanity through different prophets, all reflecting the same divine light.

In Japan, the Sun is revered as a goddess, the personification of the physical sun and the Ruler of Heaven. The Japanese Sun-goddess, Amaterasu, is considered the founder of Japan, and all emperors are known as "Sons of the Sun." In Shinto, the ancient religion of Japan, nature is worshipped, and the Sun plays a central role in rituals and customs. The Sun is seen as a source of physical stamina, business success, and protection from invasion.

In Christianity, the Sun has been used metaphorically to represent Christ. Christ is often referred to as the "Sun of Righteousness," and his birth was symbolically linked to the sun's creation in early Christian literature. The winter solstice, December 25, was chosen for Christmas because of its association with the invincible sun in pagan celebrations.

In ancient Greek art, the sun symbolized eternity and stability, despite the constant flux of time. The sun god Helios was worshipped in the Seleucid east, with bronze coins depicting a fusion of Helios and Apollo. The Vergina Sun, a rayed solar symbol, represented completeness and totality, symbolizing the 12 gods and the four elements.

In Native American traditions, the Sun is revered as a living being, connected to all aspects of nature. Native to the Americas understood themselves to be part of a larger interconnected web of life, where everything is sacred and connected. The Sun is viewed as essential for life, providing warmth, light, and energy to sustain all living beings.

The Sun holds immense significance across various cultures and spiritual traditions. It represents the core of who you are, your vitality, and your sense of self. Spiritually, it symbolizes the highest form of intelligence and the source of all light.

The Sun's symbolism reflects its universal importance as a life-giving force that sustains all living beings. Whether as a celestial body in astrology, a goddess in Japanese mythology, a metaphor for Christ in Christianity, or a symbol of stability in ancient Greek art, the Sun's significance transcends cultural boundaries, reminding us of our interconnectedness with the cosmos and the natural world.

follow for more astro insights like this and support me over on instagram @sensualnoire or yt @quenysefields

[boymanmaletheshequel]

The symbolism of Mnemosyne

🧸🧠🧸🧠🧸🧠🧸🧠🧸🧠🧸🧠🧸🧠🧸🧠

A titan deity of memory, the arbiter of nostalgia and remembering, speaker of many a language, and a mother of confusion, as well as artistic expression, Mnemosyne is the definition of a bittersweet goddess, she can bring great joy, but also painful suffering. Let’s take a look at her repertoire of symbolism, so that maybe if she speaks to us in the fog of our memory, we might recognize her better.

———————————————————————

• Colors 🌈

- Black, white, and purple: are colors that are all associated with memory, as many see the past in black and white, and knowledge is often associated with the color purple.

• Flowers and plants 🌸

- Periwinkle: a purple flower that is often associated with innocence lost by maturity, as well as the memory of the past, periwinkle is a great flower to represent lady Mnemosyne.

- Gingko: as for plants, ginkgos are associated with remembrance and wisdom, and are known for their ancient longevity, with some trees having been dated by their rings to living for over 1,000 years!

• Animals 🐴

- Parrots: known for their colorful feathers, long lasting and potent memories, and uncanny ability to mimic the human tongue and language, parrots encompass three major themes of Mnemosyne’s domain: memory, color, and speech.

- Elephants: perhaps the most obvious choice here, the elephant has long been a symbol of memory, knowledge, and sensitivity. They have the longest known memory cycle of any known animal on earth.

- Starlings: another bird with an uncanny ability to nearly perfectly adapt to and learn human speech, starlings are also known for their iridescent feathers, reminiscent of mnemosyne’s association with artistic colors.

• Food 🍗

- Drinking water. In Hellenic mythology, it is said that those that participated in the rituals at the oracle of trophonios drank spring water to help them to remember what they had seen while under the oracles influence.

- nuts. Nuts are one of the superfoods that are believed to improve cognitive function, especially in the area of our ability to strengthen and improve our memory.

- nostalgic foods. Not really a specific food, but eating a food item that is nostalgic to you, beckoning back to a past memory that you are fond of, is a good association for a food to Mnemosyne.

• Crystals and gems 💎

- Amethyst. A stone that is believed to restore one’s memory, and repair their cognitive function, amethyst was once believed to be able to cure inebriation by the ancient Greeks, and in fact, it’s name comes from the Greek word “amethustos” meaning “not drunken”

- Hematite. Some believe that hematite can help clear your congested psyche and guide you through your memory to help uncover and remember specific moments throughout your life!

- Kunzite. Kunzite is said to be a stone that is used for communication and language, both through divinity, and through everyday human communication.

• Planets 🪐

- Uranus. As a titan goddess, mother Mnemosyne is a daughter of Uranus, who is signified by the planet in our solar system. Uranus is often associated with memory and knowledge, so it’s the most sensible fit for a celestial association with Mnemosyne.

• Astrology ☄️

- Scorpio. A Scorpio forgets nothing it is said, for better or for worse, and although they aren’t necessarily the greatest communicators, just about everything else about Mnemosyne seems to fit the bill for a Scorpio!

• Other symbols 🧠

- the brain. The brain is the part of us that Mnemosyne exists entirely within, she really is our brain in a sense, so this is a symbol often associated with a goddess of memory and communication.

- Photographs. A snippet of a moment in time saved from our memory, and a great conversation piece in anyone’s home or camera role, photographs are a no brainer for something that directly channels mnemonic emotions, either that’s nostalgia, regret, or fulfillment.

———————————————————————

Well there you have it, now that you have become acquainted with some of lady Mnemosynes signs and symbols, perhaps you will find her hand on your shoulder the next time you grow emotional from nostalgia, pour over a memory forgotten, or learn a new word you can’t wait to speak with! 🧠

If you like my posts, and wish to learn more about the deities and stories of Hellen, consider giving my blog a follow! I post daily about hellenismos, and various other fascinating things. Blessed be your day 💙🏛️💙

[sylenth-l]

hello! hunter age anon back once moe with another question!!! (sorry ig yhis gets annoying!!!)

i want to ask about Cayde's dynamic with andal!!! like, how to portray their relationship and maybe cayde's general psyche when it comes to people and forming bonds.

Not at all, I love getting questions about my guys!! (I'm just bad at answering them aksdjhflks OTL)

It's… complicated, I'm never sure how to describe characters' relationships with words. I know it sounds incredibly cheesy, but to me Andal and Cayde are two halves of a whole, one feels incomplete without the other. Even if we're talking about them being just friends, they're the type who always show up everywhere together and if for some reason they aren't, they'll be texting each other non-stop still. "We're two halves of a whole idiot" - that's literally them.

You could say that they knew and understood each other perfectly, but I feel like while it's true in general everyday scenarios, on a grander scale Andal always had an upper hand in that. He knew Cayde like the back of his hand, he trusted him and believed in him far more than Cayde ever thought of himself. Cayde however wasn't exactly that sharp when it came to serious things about which Andal avoided speaking head-on - like, Cayde couldn't understand why Andal takes his Vanguard duty so seriously. It was only after he spent years as the Hunter Vanguard himself that he started to get what Andal must've felt. I don't think it's Cayde's fault or something though - Andal most likely barely ever talked about that, and he himself didn't exactly need people talking about their feelings to understand them.

I think it's safe to say, judging by how everyone speak of him and the leadership positions he seemingly effortlessly always ended up in, that Andal just gets people, he understands them extremely well and can find a common language with just about anyone. He was the one who made "significant progress in faction accords". What kind of person you must be to make faction leaders come to an agreement, at that time especially??? Convincing, sharp and charming sounds like an understatement alksdhfkjaks

So, I think it was that quality that helped Andal almost immediately see right through all of Cayde's clowney facades. And his own kindness and honesty pretty much left Cayde totally disarmed. Andal got to know him - the real him - and loved him, thought of him as his best friend. And made damn sure Cayde was aware of that as well. That's actually so, so incredibly important - because with the way Cayde is, he constantly thinks that deep down people surrounding him either dislike him or are disappointed in him. No matter how much time they spend together, it's not something he himself will just get one day because "well it's OBVIOUS" or something. His relationship with Ikora and Zavala are probably the most striking example of that. Ikora says he was one of her closest friends - Cayde says he's not sure if Ikora even likes him. The City is flooded with Cabal, lightless Guardians scattered all over the system, humanity is in shambles - and Cayde is genuinely surprised Zavala is looking for him and needs him. He leaves messages for both of them in case they kill him, making it sound like he wouldn't be surprised at all if they did. That… really shows the abysmal gap of misunderstanding between them, to put it lightly.

But Andal! Cayde never once doubted Andal and Andal's feelings for him. The good old days he speaks so fondly of is the time when he ran around the Solar system with Andal and their pack. Even if he sometimes laments that Andal is too serious and bad with jokes, that seriousness and honesty is actually just another proof that if Andal says so, then he really does like him and is impressed by whatever Cayde wanted to impress him with this time. 

I think it's probably one of, if not the most important part of what made Andal so incredibly special to Cayde - that freedom of being able to be equally honest with him, be real. Goofing off because he simply wants to goof off - not because he prefers to give people lower standards so that they won't be disappointed in him when he fails. Sharing his muddy concerns and fears that he barely even can put into words, knowing it won't be laughed at or brushed off as unimportant. Absolutely everything got better instantly if they were in it together. The mere presence of one of them in close proximity immediately cheered the other up.

I don't know, I can talk about them for hours and still not say what I wanted to say. I always miss the most important stuff somehow, no matter how many words I pour in. Honestly, I think that to better understand what was happening between them, all you have to do is to (re)read "The Man They Call Cayde" - literally half of it is basically Cayde's love letter to Andal.

[polaroid-petals]

Hey y’all!

My name’s Eli, and this is my Omori sideblog (main @botaniia). Some more info about me and my stay in the fandom in this here pinned post.

I adore Stranger and Omori, and this blog’s gonna be a mixed bag of nightshade and other content. Other characters I love are Rowan, Spaceboy, Rococo, Basil, Omoriboy, and Sunny. I picked up the game in December of 2023 and instantly got attached, so now I have this blog to share some art, writing, and other fan creations, both my own and others’ ✨

-- 🌿 --

My tumblr's art tag can be found here. I tag characters by their first name (Omori gets the tag #omori (character)), and ships by their simplest name.

You can find me on AO3 as polaroidpetals. This is where I'll post my fics and writings.

Some of my fics thus far

🌿 Tangled in Dreams of Light and Shadow A post-good ending verse exploring Stranger and how he deals with persisting long after he should've ceased to be. More info in this verse's masterpost.

🌿 Stray A real-world Omori and Stranger AU following Omori's journey as the less prestigious twin in a successful family of musicians.

🌿 Petal by Petal A post-good ending exploration of Basil's psyche as he writes letters to Sunny from his mental hospital.

-- 🌿 --

Some of my favourite ships you’ll find stuff for here:

🔪🩸 Nightshade

🔪🧩 Blackthorn

🔪🗝️☀️🌻 Nightmare Orchard

🚀🎨 Spacecoco

🌑☀️ Midnight Sun

🔪🌻 Moonflower

🧩🌻 Betagarden

☀️🌻 Sunflower

🧩💻 Betaboy

🌸💻 Flowerboy

🧩☀️ Flowerbud 

🌻🎀 Photobomb ⚔️🌸

🎀🌻🏀 Summer Breeze

☀️🌻🎀🏀 Solar System

Current favs near the top of the chart, though that order changes with the phases of the moon ✨

-- 🌿 --

Hoping to make a few friends on here!

[robotgutzz]

I know that some of the answers might be spoilers for Endling (which I’m so psyched about, btw! Very neat concept and the characterization + art for it are so SO cool!!) but: 18, 22, 34 and 50 for the Hatchling OC ask game? ::)

YES!! So you're 100% correct, this will contain spoilers for Endling, if I elaborate on some of these questions, at least. [POSSIBLE ENDLING SPOILERS AHEAD!]

18: "How does your hatchling approach problem solving?" Endling ordinarily would somewhat brute force things. Since the ending of the loops, they've immediately begun to reel this habit back in, and now think their issues through in a more critical and tactful way, since they now only have one shot. 22: "Hatchling's favorite space tool?" It used to be the signal scope, but has since become the scout. they nickname it Shale sometime after the supernova, while they grapple with being socially alone. 34: "Which lost loved one is the hardest for your hatchling to process?" They dearly miss their mentor, but that place would have to go to Gabbro. Gabbro was their last consistent and dynamic friend before the end of the solar system. They begin to grieve Gabbro in a very interesting way, which will show up later into the fic. ::) 50: "Freebie!" Personal head canon for Hatchling? That's an interesting one. I see them as something of a runt! I don't have much more context for this head canon other than I love the thought of them being a runt.