#references to PTSD

[scullcrusher101xd]

clinically curled

[yet-another-heathen]

On the topic of realistic conditioning/deconditioning,

If the trigger is something whumpee wouldn't hear often when they're with caretaker but whumpee still wants to break it because they might hear it elsewhere (like kneel being taken as a command)

Would whumpee ask caretaker to casually trigger them so they have the opportunity to challenge it in their own head and in a safe place? Would this be a good idea for recovery?

And of course being there with the praise everytime whumpee makes just a little bit of progress, or comfort when they don't.

Heads up, anon: your ask was an EXCEPTIONALLY good one, and I ended up writing another mini TED talk (~3-4 min read) in response. Thank you so much for sending it in!

...on Conditioned Whumpees - Part 3

[ Part 1 - Part 2 ]

That is a very, very good idea! You're spot on with all of it, particularly operating in a safe environment where whumpee is ultimately calling the shots. Having that comfort/support readily available will make a huge difference in how well whumpee can tackle the matter. And while the process isn't fun, approaching desensitization with this much intent is much, much more likely to result in success.

I can offer a few pointers that can add another few layers of realism, as well as some other things to think about while tailoring it to your story:

if whumpee is actively working through their conditioning in this way, memories of their trauma will become closer to the surface. As a result, all of their other PTSD symptoms will be elevated during the course of their practice sessions, as well as for at least a few weeks after.

flashbacks are a very common experience during times like this. engaging with triggers like this is going to cause their flashbacks to become more frequent and intense.

during such flashbacks, it is almost a given that whumpee's mind and body will enter a similar state to the one it was in during the time when the flashback was taking place. By that I mean that the fear they felt in that moment, where it was physically located in their body, will echo into their body in the present moment. Same goes for other all other emotions, and sometimes even phantom aches surrounding any injuries they received at the time...

while the emotions tend to be identical to the ones felt during the trauma, in my experience, the pain comes out distorted in a similar way to the way it does in dreams: less intense, and more "blurry" and imprecise in location. When we say that someone having a flashback is "reliving the moment", we mean that their body literally feels as though they're in the same immediate danger that it was in back then.

this is true even though they'll be aware to at least some degree that they're presently with caretaker and safe.

the flashbacks don't always happen immediately after the conditioning trigger is used. Often they flare up hours or days later, sometimes without warning, sometimes as a result of encountering a different flashback trigger. The whumpee's thresholds for what counts as a trigger will drop, which is part of what causes the flashbacks to happen more often. Something they could normally ignore is going to affect them much more while they're like this.

your whumpee is more likely to experience severe mood swings while in this heightened state. Especially feelings like irritability, frustration, anger, loneliness, and grief. This stuff ain't pretty, folks. Even your sweet cinnamon bun is most likely going to lash out at someone as a result.

PTSD episodes are also exhausting. your whumpee is going to feel mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. And, to add insult to injury, being tired amplifies the emotions listed above.

Now all of this said, your whumpee may or may not know that this is to be expected. If they've worked on processing their trauma before this, they'll have figured out that one often leads to the other. They'll go into the deconditioning practice knowing this is coming, and will approach it carefully, but with a fairly level head. Knowing that it'll suck, but they'll come out the other side okay.

If not, they're in for a rather nasty surprise.

For the latter, they will feel at first that the deconditioning practice is making everything worse. They're suddenly struggling the way they did when the trauma was fresher, and it can be tempting to stop and refuse to touch it again because the mental/emotional pain gets so intense.

If they do give up at this stage, it will make trying again far more daunting in the future.

But the trauma being stirred up is actually a sign that it's helping. It means that the whumpee is starting to process what happened to them, which is a fundamental step in being able to heal.

Note: All throughout the process, crying is a very good thing. It lets them physically get rid of a lot of the brain chemicals associated with these surges of emotion. Letting themselves cry over things they couldn't cry about back then can actually help them let go of those feelings in a similar way to if they'd been able to process them in the moment. [Which is the basis for much of EMDR, a specialized tool used in trauma therapy.]

Okay. So now we know what other effects can cascade from the actual deconditioning practice, now we have some things to consider.

First off, what time parameters are whumpee and caretaker working within while deconditioning? There are three basic options:

they sit down together and practice repeatedly using the trigger for [X amount of time; usually <45m at once] back to back. Once that time is up, caretaker will no longer use the trigger at all, the excercise will end, and they'll get up to do something else.

whumpee sets a specific window of time [X number of hours] within which caretaker will use the trigger word at random points. Once that time has elapsed, the exercise is over.

over the course of days, caretaker uses the trigger word at random points without giving warning. the excercise only stops after being ended by whumpee.

Now why is that important? Because of something called hypervigilance. It is another symptom of PTSD which, to put it into the simplest words, is whumpee waiting for the other shoe to drop. It's a heightened state of tension and wariness in which whumpee is expecting that something bad is going to happen, and is constantly searching for any sign to indicate when it's coming.

It is beyond exhausting.

Imagine knowing that someone is about to slap you as hard as they can, and you have to sit there with your eyes closed, waiting for it. The breath-holding, the flinchiness, the rigid tension in your body as you strain to listen for when they're coming.

Only now, stretch that moment out into hours. Days. Weeks. That is hypervigilance.

A hypervigilant whumpee is not going to be able to relax. Or rest. Or decompress. Or readily trust much of anything around them. They're MUCH more likely to flinch at sudden movements/sounds. They might start biting their nails or showing other signs of nervousness and distress.

These methods above have a gradually increasing chance of setting off whumpee's hypervigilance. If they know exactly when the next trigger is coming, as in example 1, then their 'waiting for it' tension will be low. But the more uncertain they become of exactly when it's going to happen, as in examples 2 & 3, the worse the hypervigilance is going to get.

The trade off is that the later examples are more effective in desensitizing them toward the trigger. The more their practice mimics encountering an unexpected trigger in day-to-day life, the easier it will be to fall back on that desensitization when the time comes.

Therefore, it would be a very good idea for a whumpee who's new to this to start with number 1, then gradually progress to 2 & 3 as time goes on. They should be the one to decide when the next step is made, and if/when they need to dial it back.

Other questions to ask yourself while plotting:

how mentally prepared is whumpee for worsening symptoms? what about caretaker? did either of them know it was coming?

how much of this heightened PTSD stress can your whumpee take before it becomes too much? how do they react when they do hit that tipping point?

if caretaker feels that whumpee is getting too distressed during practice even though they're not tapping out, would they call it off themself? Or would they ultimately leave that decision to whumpee?

based on the answer, how would whumpee feel about caretaker's decision? Relieved? Belittled? Betrayed?

does whumpee have any grounding tools they can use while practicing?

how does caretaker handle the mood swings and instability that come with whumpee's heightened PTSD? You should consider both their internal and external reactions on the matter.

how does whumpee prefer to decompress after a practice session? what things would help them calm down and recover?

how long do they need (hours or days) before the next attempt?

Even with all I've just written, there's far more to the resulting hightened state of PTSD than flashbacks and hypervigilance. PTSD symptoms that they're most likely to encounter in the background while doing deconditioning practice include:

Flinchiness, anxiety, panic attacks, nightmares, exhaustion, emotional mood swings, outbursts, crying spells, depression, executive dysfunction, dissociation, numbness, racing thoughts, freeze responses, tremors, inappetence, muscle tension, and heart palpitations.

Yes, usually many of them at once, even those that contradict. Your whumpee is going to have a LOT going on at once, and it is not going to be a fun time. I recommend looking up any of the above symptoms you don't recognize, and looking for whump inspiration in what you learn.

(Because everyone experiences PTSD episodes differently, there's a lot of wiggle room in which ones whumpee will encounter. Don't feel pressured to use all of them, find what you want to write and have fun with it!)

Thanks again for the incredible ask, anon. And again, I want to congratulate you on how spot-on your original ask was. You nailed it. I know this was a lot more than you asked for, but I hope this provides helpful context for your whump! My inbox will always be open if you think of anything more <3

[vilochkaaa]

i finally make almost full reference for my most favorite stormy farmer boy - Willow :3

i luv him soo so much <33

[bumblingbabooshka]

Voyager should have done a whole episode that was just a series of horror vignettes of the entire crew in increasingly malicious/difficult/terrifying situations that start off seeming like normal Voyager antics (Every main character gets their turn to 'star' in one scenario somehow tailored to them sans Harry who's conspicuously absent and the Doctor) and end with like, Janeway once again heroically sacrificing herself for the crew after finally figuring out what's wrong only for the episode to end exactly how it began. Only the first scenario plays out until the very end, every subsequent scenario ends faster and more brutally than the last and as the episode progresses we see the crew retaining scars or pains from previous deaths we witnessed though to them these wounds are mysterious or they give a narratively coherent reason for having them. Though there are some clues as to what's happening this largely remains unexplained and unresolved until the NEXT episode which is 'The Killing Game'. Everyone would have loved this! They would have cheered and clapped!

[netwatchsucks]

Johnny Silverhand born 1988, Second Central American Conflict (where he lost his arm etc) 2003-2010, Samurai founded 2003... you're telling me that man

Enlisted in the (i'm assuming) military for the independent republic of texas (born College Station, Texas - Texas goes independent in 1999 and is recognised as such in 2000) at 15 years old (possibly lying about his age)

Lost his arm and a good friend and deserted the army, running away towards Night City at... still 15 years old?

Said fuck it and with absolutely nothing to his name formed a band with (i'm assuming) a handful of other TEENAGERS

Disbanded Samurai in 2008 at the ripe age of 20 years old

Yeah no wonder he Acts Like That

[whetstonefires]

You know what else gets neglected? Wen Xu made Lan Wangji set the library on fire.

Like. Realistically he knew it was going to burn whatever he did, so making a point of defiance that would just get more people killed would have been stupid. (I assume a major reason cql swapped this out for the Headband Cave, besides building up Su She's craven villainy, was that this would have been very expensive to film.) Giving way on this point after getting his leg broken, with his Sect overcome around him and his father mortally wounded, was perfectly reasonable.

But it's also something that was guaranteed to be very traumatic for him. Putting the flame to that building with his own hands.

And then, not knowing the fates of his family and with a broken leg, he got dumped into the Wen indoctrination and wound up in the turtle cave alone with Wei Wuxian, and definitely took his trauma out on him a little bit, though all things considered he handles himself with great restraint.

And then there's the war, and he takes time out of the campaign to try to find a presumed-dead guy whom he almost definitely regrets only being kind to when he wasn't really coherent, and then even though that guy is no longer trying to befriend him gets himself assigned to his theater of war to watch his back.

Lan Xichen is shown in that one tent flashback in the Nie Mingjue empathy section to know full well his brother is in Jiangling because Wei Wuxian is in Jiangling.

During the unclear-but-plural number of years the war went on, Lan Wangji was away from Cloud Recesses more or less all the time. Repairs were, we may assume, made in his absence. The collection was rebuilt as much as was possible, and housed in a replacement building, that may or may not have been complete by the time he went home to stay.

(Presumably one of the irreplaceable texts Xichen smuggled away was a list or index of the more replaceable ones, that got burnt, so they can go around to their contacts in an organized way asking to make copies. They seem to have done so very well at replacing such a large library so quickly that I can only assume they had had a very generous copying policy, and reaped the reward of this after the war.)

So after the war, when Lan Wangji is spending most of his time closed up in his room working on music, his being fixated on saving Wei Wuxian from the spiral of his own cultivation method is the least worrying explanation.

Because the alternate reasons Lan Xichen has to hand for this behavior are 1) Lan Wangji's ptsd is totally crippling and he's potentially going to become a shut-in for life or 2) the trauma he suffered at the start of the war, in the Cloud Recesses, being made to act against the Cloud Recesses, against his own safe place, means that he no longer feels secure or comfortable there, and is shut away obsessively cultivating to avoid their family and home.

And ngl I tend to suspect based on the timing of some beats that Lan Wangji did wind up funneling a lot of the energy from his war trauma into his romantic attachment. Because during that crucial window from 'Wei Wuxian has gone missing' to 'Wei Wuxian is dead' he believed that Wei Wuxian was someone he could help, if he could just figure out how.

And a huge predictor of PTSD, much larger than how 'objectively bad' something was, is how helpless you felt in the face of harm to yourself or others. So channeling his intensity and control issues into the contained and should-still-be-possible issue of Wei Wuxian's well-being would have been....

Not actually the worst coping mechanism, although it sure would have been a better one if Wei Wuxian had in fact been possible to help in some more substantive way than 'watching his back in battle' lmao.

[ruegarding]

anyway here's my rant:

despite her comment in son, hazel doesn't have much adhd/dyslexia coding. her treatment at st agnes has more to do w being a black girl in the 1930's and her powers/curse than her possible adhd/dyslexia, considering she never mentions any symptoms specific to adhd or dyslexia in her backstory. the closest things are her interest in horses, which could be considered a hyper-fixation, and her flashbacks, which could be argued as daydreaming associated w inattentive adhd. furthermore, her powers could easily be used as a commentary on masking similar to the general attitude towards her vs other dead ppl (she looks alive, so she deserves to be alive, unlike all these other ppl who went thru the doors of death). overall, interesting set up, not expanded upon in canon.

similarly, the only time piper is ever implied to have adhd is in that boo scene, which doesn't hold much weight bc it's a general statement in an impersonal pov (as opposed to "piper was only able to keep track bc of her adhd/demigod abilities," still in third person pov, but a more personalized statement). this post began as a quest to answer the question "how does piper's adhd manifest," and the answer is "uhhhhhhhhhhh."

continuing w the trend, jason is never implied to have adhd or dyslexia at all. would have been interesting to see, considering jason has the whole gifted-kid-burn-out thing going on, but alas.

i'm not including the statement annabeth makes abt demigods typically having one or both and hazel's statement abt "just being a demigod," bc it's also established that it's not a requirement. the fandom wiki claims frank is the only demigod to not have adhd: if "just being a demigod" means that every demigod has adhd/dyslexia, then frank, inarguably, has adhd/dyslexia, as well.

more importantly, in a story where adhd and dyslexia are explicitly addressed and considered the cornerstone of the world building, i need it to be explicitly said that a character has adhd/dyslexia in order to give credit to canon (my personal hcs are a different story).

so, it seems like leo is the only one out of the lost trio w adhd or dyslexia, and it's only adhd. he frequently references things he's reading and shows no issue doing so, given that it's in a language he understands.

interestingly, leo claims "he couldn’t read ancient greek" in hoh, so it could be that the ease w learning ancient greek (and potentially latin) is exclusive to those w dyslexia. however, this has been as inconsistent as the actual dedication to giving demigods adhd and/or dyslexia. for example, chiron says the ability is "in their blood" in tlh w no mention of dyslexia, but in tlt annabeth says percy has dyslexia bc "[his] mind is hardwired for ancient greek."

the only character to bring up how dyslexia affects them in hoo is percy, making it seem like his dyslexia is much worse than annabeth's, the only other character who we know is dyslexic (from pjo, it's never mentioned in hoo). if leo is "seriously adhd," then percy is seriously dyslexic. something to be said how they're both treated as comic relief in fandom, considering.

frank not being diagnosed despite his dyspraxia coding could be used as a commentary on medical racism and the model minority stereotype. since frank is exclusively listed as the only demigod to not have either diagnosis and his dyspraxia coding eventually disappears, it doesn't appear that that was the intention.

moving to a more theoretical discussion, it's hard to say what is/is not definitively adhd/dyslexia symptoms, specifically using canon, considering we rarely see any of the demigods acting "normal." the majority of the time, they're on a quest/in an extreme situation. contrast w pjo, where we learn things abt percy's adhd and dyslexia while he's at school, a relatively normal situation, and then can apply it to the rest of the series. w hoo, it's almost all guesswork.

leo mentions that his adhd affects his memory, so we know that similar moments can be attributed to his adhd. but is hazel forgetting part of sciron's story a symptom of adhd or just a normal thing that happens bc forgetting things in stressful situations is normal? is jason's seemingly permanent amnesia a symptom of the memory wipe or is it exacerbated by adhd? is piper's aversion to feminine clothing and make up caused by sensory issues? we'll never know, bc they're never said to have adhd.

[nabsthevulture]

The term "neuro-spicy" is so fucking cringe i am sorry but not really

i cannot stand it

[dootznbootz]

I went on tiktok to just watch some silly Odysseus videos but then I mostly saw people going like "Yeah, maybe Odysseus cried on Calypso' island every day but honestly he had that coming after what he did Achilles and Patroclous/Circe!!!" and "Everything that happens in Odyssey is deserved cuz he took Patrochilles to war!!!" and "I feel so bad for Circe and Calypso and Penelope, they deserved better!!!"

For fucks sake I beg you, read anything different from Millers bs and like educate yourself- And please stop goddamn saying that rape victim. deserved it.

Circe probably didn't give a flying fuck, Calypso is a rapist and abuser and Penelope deserved everything she wanted and SHE WANTED ODYSSEUS

I think I've had enough internet for today, imma go wash my eyes with bleach. Anyways sorry for ranting here, i hope you don't mind it lmao

It's alright. I absolutely understand the vents about the whole thing. :'D No one deserves to be a victim of such a thing no matter WHAT they've done. I hope your eyes are okay after the bleach

Like Odysseus does so many fucked up things but Calypso and Circe? He is the victim. Period. It's very clear that Odysseus is in extreme distress on Ogygia. And Circe wasn't some sort of FwB situation. There's fear and numbness in the language he uses when talking about it. There's so much victim blaming and it SUCKS.

Even then, Odysseus' journey was kind of about "temptation" or just straight up "Die or get out of my sea." From Poseidon. "I don't want you in my waters so I'm gonna try and give you things that will keep you on land or just kill you."

Immortal goddesses wanting you would be many people's dream come true but not for Odysseus. And I think that's the point. His determination, how he clawed his way back into the arms he never wanted to leave in the first place, is incredible. Many people would've given up and just started a new life but he never would because no life he could ever create would compare to the life he had before. Even if it's different, it's what he's always wanted.

He literally tells Calypso "I'm not stopping until I'm home. I don't care if I suffer more until I do. I'm going home."

“Mighty goddess, do not be angry with me over this. I myself know very well Penelope, although intelligent, is not your match                                          to look at, not in stature or in beauty. But she’s a human being and you’re a god. You’ll never die or age. But still I wish, every moment to get back to my home,                                                       to see the day of my return. And so, even if out there on the wine-dark sea some god breaks me apart, I will go on— the heart here in my chest is quite prepared to bear affliction. I’ve already had so many troubles, and I’ve worked so hard                                  through waves and warfare. Let what’s yet to come be added in with those.”

(Book 5, Johnston)

Circe's a goddess and what happened is nothing like Dionysus and Ariadne and Apollo and Hyacinthus for example. Circe never gave Odysseus a crown of stars and he would never go out of his way to kill 120 people for bothering her. They did not love each other and he can't refuse as she's a goddess.

If you interpret them sleeping together the entire year,(It's only explicitly said that they had sex once so that's what I go with personally.) that doesn't mean he was happy with it! Even then, the whole situation is not what a healthy FwB should look like! I'm asexual and even I know that no one in a FwB situation should have to BEG in any way that basically says "Please let me go or kill me" with supplication!!! The fact that he leaves so quickly he forgets one of his men? The fact that during Elpenor's funeral, he doesn't greet Circe himself? He was avoiding her. Wouldn't he want to get "one last night together" during Book 12 if they were fwb? 🙄

It's bonkers to me that people hate him for being a "cheater" when A.) having multiple lovers wasn't uncommon in Ancient Greece, and B.) the two people he is explicitly said to have "cheated" with, weren't his choice. He wasn't actively searching for pretty women either!!!

As mentioned, while it was common for men to have many lovers, Odysseus never had any listed unlike some of the other men. (not bashing any of them. I'm just making a point in comparison.) He also has no other children besides Telemachus in Homer's works. There's no evidence of him having other lovers other than speculation. (funny enough, I once read somewhere that the reason why Odysseus is so mean is because he doesn't "bond" enough with the other soldiers. 😂)

Does that mean he didn't have other lovers? Technically, Nope! It's just never explicitly stated either way. He has slaves but none were ever said to be concubines or that he sleeps with them. He has deep bonds with his fellow soldiers but that doesn't mean he sleeps with them. That doesn't mean people can't write or talk about him doing so even though it's not mentioned! Just like it also means that someone can write him not doing so as there's nothing that says it either way in Homer's Works! :D

It's fucked up when people say "He didn't try to leave Calypso enough" or something of the like. It just tells you how A.) they didn't read the Odyssey or have piss on the poor reading comprehension or B.) ...you should probably stay away from that person...

With Circe though??? I can understand the confusion but digging deeper and looking at the text, he wasn't having a good time. Or at the very least was walking on Eggshells the whole time. I hate bringing up that essay over and over again but like...I literally wrote everything there.

I also don't like how people take Circe's morally gray-ness away from her. Let her do something fucked up to be fucked up!!! Let her traumatize Odysseus!

Idk, I kind of hate that I'm "known" for this but I relate to this idiot asshole a lot and it means a lot to me that his story, despite what happens to him, has a happy ending :'D

[poisonousquinzel]

also also also the idea of Harley returning to crime in Gotham in a Full Evil Villain way can't work because she literally knows who Batman is at this point.... she's known since like 2020-2021 in the Joker War arc...

Like,,,, if they're not on good terms, she really has no reason to not tell the rest of the rogues that he's Bruce Wayne. Joker probably keeps it to himself because he's an obsessive loser.

But Harley's not stupid. She knows how much revealing his identity could fuck with him. Hell, she also knows Tim has a boyfriend !!! she could cause so much havoc for the batfam and it just.... it'd set back so much of her development to make her regress back into Full Evil Villain mode...

and people are praising it like "maybe there's hope for modern Harley" y'all really hate comic characters developing huh?

I'm sorry but that's so lackluster and boring. It'd be a pathetic character arc.

Character development is literally needed when they're the main focus, if she was still just the jester henchwoman from Joker's Favor then fine, she'd be a random member of the clown posse.

But she's not.

I have no idea why this fandom is particular seems so hellbent against real development and growth ...

[velvetvexations]

an alt-right Transformers fan referring to the IDW comics as "divisive" is the most filtered through an niche echo chamber take I've seen in a really long time

[macksartblock]

Every time I think about Grant Wilson I think reading THG trilogy would’ve done wonders for him

[halfagonyandhope]

ignite the stars │ch. 12

first chapter (x); previous chapter (x)

Satine Kryze is an internationally-recognized scholar in genocide studies who recently resigned from the Department of State over her concerns regarding the agency's ethics. Ben Kenobi is a tenured professor at Georgetown University studying the use of religion to justify military conflicts. Once high school sweethearts, the two haven't spoken since parting ways for university. That is, until Satine accepts a research fellowship - at Georgetown.

---

After the seminar that afternoon, Vos waves Ben and Satine over. As they approach him in the emptying lecture hall, he says, “Asajj and I are thinking our livers deserve a break after last weekend. Want to order pizza? My office in thirty minutes?”

Ben looks to Satine, letting her decide. “I’d like that,” Satine says.

Ben digs in his pocket for his wallet, counting out enough bills to also cover Satine’s meal. “She’s vegetarian, and I’m not picky.”

Satine begins to protest at him paying for her part of the bill, but he waves her concern away. “I make a bit more than you,” he says. “Think of it as socialism at work.”

She’s about to argue some more, but Vos steps forward to grab the cash. “Cheers,” he says, unlocking his phone to put the order in.

Ventress smirks at Ben. “You still can’t be bothered to download Venmo?”

“The less time I spend engaging with capitalist innovation, the better,” he says in response, tucking his wallet back into his pocket.

The four of them begin to file out of the lecture hall, making their way to the stairwell. As they start to climb, Ventress says, “Kryze, you should be warned: that man very well might end up a hermit. And he’ll be very pleased about it.”

Satine muses over this. “Actually,” she says, “I don’t think I’d be opposed to such a life.” They clear one landing and move up another flight of stairs. “I find most people barely tolerable. Present company excluded, of course.”

Vos snickers, and he opens the door to their floor with one hand, his other still typing on his phone.

Satine nods her thanks and heads to unlock her office. Ahsoka is already waiting by Ben’s door, and he greets her warmly as he opens it.

“I had an idea about my thesis committee,” begins Ahsoka, and Satine ducks inside her office before her face can give away that Ahsoka has already asked her to be on it.

She sits at her desk to pass the time before dinner is delivered, trying to avoid listening to the conversation next door - allowing Ahsoka and Ben their space - and she mostly succeeds. She does hear the tone of Ben’s voice. He asks gentle, probing questions about Ahsoka’s ideas and plans for her research, and Satine agrees with Ahsoka:

Ben is a good mentor.

Satine smiles to herself. Even when they were teenagers, she would have predicted he would be.

A few minutes later, Ahsoka stops by her door. The young woman gives her a thumb’s up. “We’re good!” she says, smiling.

“Pleased to hear it,” says Satine. “You know where I am, so stop by anytime you need someone to bounce ideas off of.”

“Will do!” says Ahsoka. “Have a great weekend!”

Satine mirrors her smile. “You, too.”

As Ahsoka leaves, Satine returns to her email. A moment later, Ben’s knock sounds. 

“You don’t have to say yes to her just because she’s my student,” he tells her, shoulder leaning against the frame of the door.

Satine turns to face him. “I said yes to her because she’s prepared and astute,” Satine says. “Qualities likely amplified by her apprenticeship to you.”

Ben enters the office and drops into the chair in front of her desk. “Was that a compliment, Dr. Kryze?”

“You can tell a lot about the competence of an advisor by the competence of the student. Not everything, of course, but quite a lot. I know you haven’t worked with her for long, but your influence is apparent. Not to take anything away from the accomplishments she’s made on her own, obviously.”

Ben leans forward. “So it was a compliment.”

Satine rolls her eyes. “Would you like me to make a record of it for you? Let me find the recorder I use for my informant interviews.”

He just laughs.

But a thought has occurred to Satine. She lowers her voice. “If our plan is only semi-successful - we get a dual career hire, but not here at Georgetown - what will we do about Ahsoka? Her funding is tied to yours.”

Ben breathes in and scratches his chin. “I’ve actually given this a great deal of thought,” he says. “I have a few ideas. Next year she’ll be teaching, so her funding isn’t necessarily dependent on mine any longer. She could simply transfer advisors. Ventress’ work is fairly similar to mine, and she’d likely be a good fit for Ahsoka. And, as you know, the thing about qualitative, so-called ‘soft’ science is that it requires no lab work - there’s no need to be tied to a specific location except when doing field work, which she’ll finish this summer anyway, well before our timeline is up. If Ahsoka wanted to keep me on as an external co-advisor, she could do so remotely.”

Satine nods.

“Alternatively,” adds Ben, “if she so chooses, she’d be welcome to join us at a different institution. It’s not as though advisors have never moved from one university to another before; some students go with them. There is precedent, and we could negotiate a moving stipend for her.”

“And what of Anakin?”

Ben smiles. “Anakin’s place is here,” he says, “because his wife Padma’s place is here. Her last name is Amidala; I assume you’ve heard of her?”

Satine gapes at him. “She’s that Padma?”

Padma Amidala had been recently elected to the House of Representatives after a stellar first campaign. Satine thinks she probably could have been elected to the Senate if a seat in her state had been up for grabs at the time.

Satine doesn’t like politicians, excepting Bail Organa. Padma Amidala might be another rare exception.

Ben just watches her, amused. He nods. “She and Anakin are expecting twins. They’ve purchased a home here. Because even if Padma - by some malevolent act of God - doesn’t get re-elected to a second term, she’s determined to remain on Capitol Hill in some capacity.”

“Thank goodness Anakin has already defended,” is all Satine can think to say. “Can you imagine navigating grad school and raising twins?”

Ben shakes his head vehemently. “I refuse to,” he says. “And that, perhaps, is why I give Anakin more leeway than I should, even as a postdoc.”

“That,” says Satine, “and you secretly like the idea of being the cool uncle.”

“I have made it no secret to Anakin that I will be the cool uncle.”

And, unbidden, an image of Ben cradling a swaddled infant forms in Satine’s mind. Her heart grows warm, a soft glow she’s almost surprised he doesn’t notice.

When they were teenagers, they’d seemingly always known their time together would be limited. They’d known he would go off to war, she would go off to master diplomacy. They’d never talked about a future - at least beyond promising each other that they would meet again.

So for the first time, Satine begins to wonder. What are Ben’s thoughts on children? And, just as importantly, what are her own? 

She’d never entertained the thought before; no relationship or situationship had developed enough for that to ever become a consideration.

But before Satine’s thoughts go any further, Vos walks past her office carrying their food, bellowing “PIZZA’S HERE!”

Satine and Ben share a glance, sharing silent laughter, and stand up to follow him.

---

“So how’s self-defense training going?” asks Vos as he takes a massive bite of pepperoni pizza.

Satine dabs at her lips with a paper napkin. “We’re actually going over to the Yates Field House after this to start,” she says. “You two are welcome to join, if you’d like. I get the feeling that Ventress was secretly an assassin in a past life, and I’d like to see if I’m right.”

Ventress laughs deeply. “You’re not far off,” she says from her spot on the chair they’d dragged in from Satine’s office. She’s flipped the chair around backwards and is straddling it, her arms draped over the chair’s backrest. “I was born on the lands that most people now call Russia.”

She says the last word with an obvious sneer. 

“My people refer to ourselves as Yupighyt. In English, that’s Siberian Yupik, or true people. Colonizers destroyed our culture much the same as they did here in America; my first language was Russian rather than the language of my ancestors.” She clenches her fingers into a fist. “That kind of rage - the kind they leave you with when they leave you with nothing else - it doesn’t go away. So I enrolled in a military academy to learn how to control it. What I found was better: a way out.”

She reaches over to grab another slice of pizza.

“I was under no illusions what they were training me for. But the academy - and then the university - was prestigious enough that it allowed me my choice of American graduate programs. I know America is, in many ways, Russia’s mirror image: propaganda that most of the population can’t or won’t recognize, its own history of decimating its Indigenous peoples. But at least this government is arguably one step further removed from the autocracy I left behind. Emphasis on arguably.” Ventress sighs. “Once I got here, I knew I wouldn’t go back. And I haven’t been. So my body count is actually fewer than Kenobi’s.”

Ben shifts, and Satine can see the tension in his shoulders. 

Satine had been aware, of course, that Ben’s time in the military had left him with blood on his hands. For the first time, she finds herself wondering how much blood is there.

Maybe she doesn’t want to know, she realizes.

Vos takes a swig of whatever soda was left in the department’s vending machine. “It might not be a bad idea for us to join you,” he admits, looking toward Ben. “Asajj can model the forms Satine is supposed to be aiming for, give her a point of reference.”

Ben gives Vos an exasperated look. “You just want to see me take a hit from two different women.”

Vos crushes the empty soda can between his hands and tosses it in the recycling, grinning. “Guilty as charged.”

---

An hour later, they’ve all changed out of their business casual attire. Satine takes a step into the field house studio and looks around.

If she didn’t know better, she’d guess the large room was designed for dance lessons: its walls are lined with mirrors and a ballet barre, and its floors are hardwood. But covering most of the hardwood is a massive wrestling mat in Georgetown’s school colors. She drops her bag by the door and moves to stand in front of the mirrors, one hand on the barre.

Vos stands next to her as Ventress and Ben take their places at the center of the mat. Vos is checking out Ventress’ ass.

In fairness, her tights and tank top leave very little to the imagination, and for the first time, Satine is jealous of Ventress’ history with Ben. She’d done a fair job, at least until now, of managing that particular emotion - she’d told herself that whatever Ventress and Ben had, it was clearly in the past. Ventress is married, after all. And Ben hadn’t shown any signs of lingering feelings.

But as Ventress models how Satine is supposed to react to an unwanted forward advance, her arms touching Ben’s, Satine can’t help but let envy distract her.

Here is a woman who can keep up with Ben, meet his verbal and physical spars with ease, and - moreover - beat him a good portion of the time. Why on earth would Ben want someone who can’t compete with that?

“Satine?” asks Ben suddenly, interrupting her thoughts. “You ready to try?”

Vos pushes her forward, and Ventress steps to the side.

“Let me know if you ever need to take a break,” says Ben, his voice low so only she can hear, and suddenly she’s able to push the unwelcome thoughts aside. The concern in his tone brings her back, tells her she is the priority now.

His focus is on her.

She nods. “Thanks,” she whispers back, and she begins to mimic the motions Ventress had used.

“Wait,” says Ventress, and Satine pauses as Ventress steps forward to adjust her arm slightly. “Okay, try now.”

So Satine does, and she’s relieved when she doesn’t feel completely ridiculous.

“Good,” says Ben.

“Adequate,” says Ventress at the same time, and Ben glares at her. Ventress shrugs. “Sugar-coating it won’t help anything.” She turns to Satine. “Did you ever go to sporting events at Stanford?”

Satine nods, wondering where she’s going with this.

“Did they have a dance team or cheerleading team?”

“Of course.”

“Those dancers, those athletes, they’d be performing what we call full out. It means they’re not just going through the motions; they’re not just marking moves. When you reach out, the tension needs to extend through your entire limb.” And she demonstrates with her own arm, holding it out limply. “This is marking.” Then she tenses the arm. “This is full out. See the difference?”

And Satine does. “Yes.”

“Run that same move but full out,” says Ventress. “You’re training your brain just as much as your muscles.”

So Satine tries the move again, and she can feel the difference.

“Better,” says Ventress in approval. “We may make a fighter out of you yet, Kryze.”

---

Satine and Ben say goodbye to Vos and Ventress about an hour later. Ben, as she’d expected, offers to walk her to her bus stop. Readily accepting, Satine threads her arm through his, watching their breaths fog the air in front of them.

The campus is nearly empty at this hour, with most of the undergrads out at bars or parties to welcome the weekend - and most of the faculty and staff having left hours ago. So Satine is a little bolder than she might normally be, and she pulls Ben into the shadows cast by one of the buildings on their path.

His lips are warm against hers, his skin still hot from their sparring session. His arms wrap around her back, and she can feel the surprise radiating from him. He doesn’t protest, though.

When Satine eventually pulls back, Ben grins. “What was that for?”

Satine ducks her head. “Even if the dating is fake, the jealousy is very real.”

Satine misses whatever his expression might be telling her, but a few moments later, Ben hooks a finger under her chin. “You have my permission to get jealous whenever you like if that’s how you respond,” he says.

And he leans in to kiss her again.

---

“This is depressing.”

Ben looks down at her. They’re tangled together on the couch at her condo on Saturday evening, sharing the same blanket, political commentators blaring loudly from the television. He reaches for the remote and flips off the TV, shifting Satine in his arms. “Because they’re completely off base in their analyses?”

“Well, yes,” Satine says. “Anyone with a bachelor’s in political science could tell you that. But I guess mostly I meant it’s depressing that this is even a legitimate argument they’re having. That media training of theirs dictates they have to frame both sides as though they have equal pros and cons. It’s a false equivalency. It’s a breeding ground for a human rights catastrophe. Ventress wasn’t wrong when she compared America to Russia.”

“Well, the average American doesn’t have a bachelor’s degree in political science, let alone a PhD in anything.” He taps a finger gently against her temple.

She hums. “The average American shouldn’t have to have that kind of education to protect themself,” she agrees. “And I know if it was an easy fix, it would have been addressed by now. But these news bites, these viral videos…it’s alarmingly similar to the radio broadcasts in Rwanda from 1994.” She sits up slightly. “Three decades removed from Rwanda, sometimes it’s unfathomable, the degree of radicalization…what people came to believe from what they were hearing on the radio. That so many people - a hundred thousand people - could be convinced to attack and kill their neighbors. But listening to that,” she says, gesturing at the now dark television screen, “it’s suddenly not so unfathomable.”

Ben pulls her back into the warmth of his arms, and she goes willingly. “I wish I could disagree,” he says.

Despite the general feeling of hopelessness that still hangs in the air from the news program, Satine grins against him. “Disagreeing is your idea of foreplay, isn’t it?”

He snickers. “And it’s not yours?”

“There you are again, disagreeing with me.”

“I just think you like it, too. You like when someone can match your wits. Can meet you spar for spar. And, every so often - but not too often - you like when someone bests you.”

Satine just blinks, realizing his thoughts mirror her own from yesterday, when she was assessing him and Ventress. She shrugs, trying to push the thoughts aside. “I wouldn’t know. The latter has never happened.”

Ben lets out a deep, sharp laugh, and Satine looks up to shoot him a grin. But when their eyes meet, the air in the room shifts.

“I assume you saw the test results I sent you,” she says, her voice low. “I’m clean.”

He nods. She’s already reviewed his, of course, even if she’d known he wouldn’t risk her health. 

Ben swallows. Satine can feel his heart beating under her palm where it rests on his chest. “I talked to my therapist about…initiating…physical affection after one of the partners has experienced a sexual trauma.”

His hand comes up to rest on her own.

“I wanted to have as much information as I could,” he says. “And it turns out…we’re already on the right track. What you said to me, back when I first showed you my arm?”

Satine nods, remembering.

“It was like you wrote the textbook,” says Ben. “Asking about triggers, asking about places not to touch, things I don’t like. So I think I should ask the same of you.”

And he pulls her up to put a little space between their bodies. They sit, facing each other, as Satine mulls over her answer.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I haven’t been physically involved with someone, obviously, since I realized what probably happened to me in Bosnia. There very well could be triggers I know nothing about.”

Ben nods. “We’ll go slow, then. Like we planned.”

Satine brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “I went to the sexual violence support center on campus,” she says. “I saw a flyer in the library, and it…it seemed a more efficient use of my time than trying to find some random therapist who not only takes my insurance but specializes in this type of trauma-informed care.”

Ben is quiet, just listening.

She looks up to meet his eyes. “It was…surprisingly helpful. So much so that I plan to go back. It took so long to find a therapist I liked the last time I shopped around that I was convinced it would be that way again.” Her eyes drop to his knee, and she traces the seam of his trousers. “Something that they suggested was a safe word, so we know to stop immediately if one of us uses it.”

“I like that,” says Ben. “Might I suggest the word?”

Satine eyes him, knowing that tone. “You may suggest, but I am allowed to veto.”

“Calculus,” says Ben, and she bursts out laughing, remembering her outburst in the library when they were teenagers. Clearly, she hadn’t been the only one to hold onto the memory.

When she finally manages to pull herself together, she acknowledges, “That will definitely kill the mood.” She grins. “I choose not to use my veto.”

“Excellent,” says Ben, smiling widely, and Satine folds herself back into his arms.

[izzydaninja]

Sonic Prime - Finale Rewrite? Sonic Prime & Avengers: Infinity War Peter Parker Dying Scene, recreated to be Sonic dying. This was a random silly idea at first, but I decided to keep going with it. :) Hopefully you all liked it. I got awfully sloppy with a lot of it. Didn't bother finishing some of the hand and shoe basic sketches, and just left them as warped blobs and such. lol But, as long as it gets the meaning across, I'm good with it. I would've done a fully finished comic, but I knew I'd never get it done, so I just left it as the sloppy sketchy mess it is. Did enjoy taking my time on the last panel, though. :3 Sonic as Peter Parker/Spider-Man Shadow as Tony Stark/Iron-Man

~The heart is for my signature in the background, not for the characters and panels, etc. lol Sorry if it was misinterpreted as such.~ *DO NOT TAKE, COPY, OR REDRAW* ~No stealy~

[guardian-of-da-gay]

Trust Issues

Read on Ao3

For Whumptober 2024 Prompt 2: Trust Issues

tw for referenced physical assault, undiagnosed PTSD

Sonic and Tails were away at a friend's sleepover.  Which was cool because Tom loved that they were making friends with other kids.  Less cool because Knuckles didn’t get invited.  Knuckles said he didn’t want to go anyway, and Tom believed him.  He just wished Knuckles could have… more.  Maddie told him he worries too much, but Tom just cares a lot about his kids and it (yeah, okay) worries him that Sonic and Tails get to go have fun at a sleepover while Knuckles does a million one-armed push-ups alone in the attic.

Tom proposed an impromptu movie night.  He told Knuckles they could even watch something rated R–special, forbidden films that were extra violent with bad words that only Knuckles was allowed to watch with them because he was the oldest.  Knuckles was lured in by the flattering prospect of special treatment.  His only request was that they eat key lime pie.

Which was weird!  But actually do-able.  Shelly at the local diner made a mean key lime and they’d just recently gotten Grubhub.  They got their pie ordered, got out extra blankets, let Ozzie out for the last time before he retired to his bed in the hallway, their pie arrived, and it was movie time.

He and Maddie picked a film they thought Knuckles would enjoy.  But halfway through Tom looked over and saw something he’d never seen before: Knuckles had fallen asleep.  How ‘Gladiator’ could lull him to sleep, he didn’t know, but there he was.  Knuckles was curled up against the armrest, knees to his chest, his arms pillowing his head.

Naturally, he and Maddie lowered the volume and proceeded to ignore the movie and enjoy the rare moment of peaceful, quiet Knuckles.

“He’s so cute when he’s not breaking things,” Maddie cooed softly.

“Or threatening civil servants,” Tom chuckled, keeping his voice low.  “You know, I’ve never seen him asleep?”

“Really?”  Maddie turned to look at him, the movie throwing strange shadows across her face in the low lighting.  “Don’t you check on them at night?”

“Yeah.”  Everytime he worked late and wasn’t there to tuck them in… which Knuckles didn’t really let him do.  Too grown up, Tom understood.  “But he’s always up when I check… It’s actually kinda creepy sometimes.  I’ll poke my head up and he’s lying in bed just staring at me.”

Maddie snickered into her hand and rolled her eyes fondly.  “This boy!”

“I know.”  Their boy.

Knuckles slept on.  His face scrunched slightly, brows furrowing even in sleep.  Hopefully not because they were talking too loud.  But no, Tom could see his eyes flicking beneath his lids.  Dreaming then.  Knuckles shivered.

Tom frowned.  “Maybe we should just let him rest.”

Maddie hummed.  “Alright,” she said.  “Maximus can wait another day.”  She paused the movie and started clearing away the pie plates.

They had a quilt Tom’s mother made lying across the back of the couch, Tom pulled it off and unfolded it.  He’d put a blanket over Sonic plenty of times.  Tails too.  He’d never got to tuck Knuckles in though.  Just the thought made him feel a rush of fondness for his prickly, oldest kid.

The blanket touched Knuckles–

“GET AWAY!”

Tom hit the wall across the room.  All the breath left him with a whoosh.

Knuckles leapt off the couch and skidded across the floor, his quills glowing red.

Ozzie jolted out of his bed and started barking.

Tom crumpled to the floor, stunned.

“What’s going on?”  Maddie ran into the room.  She dodged as Knuckles blasted past her and through the backdoor.

Literally through it.  Splinters and shards of glass scattered across the back deck.  In a second, Knuckles had vanished into the forest.

Maddie stood there with her mouth open.  Ozzie was whining as he checked on a wheezing Tom.  She turned to him, shocked.  Tom was too busy trying to catch his breath and get the dog off of him to say anything.  After a long bout of silence she finally asked:

“What happened?”

***

Knuckles was deep into the forest before he finally stopped.  He was unusually breathless and looked around, making well and sure he was out of sight of the house.  His heart raced as the reality of what happened came to him.

Tom had tried to kill him in his sleep!

But why would Tom attack him?  Was he seeking vengeance for the damage Knuckles had caused House Wachowski?  For attacking Sonic and leading Robotnik to the Master Emerald?  Or was he acting on behalf of Longclaw?  He was, in some ways, her successor.  Sonic had set their historic feud aside, but had his guardians?

The one thing that was obvious was the reason why Tom had waited until he slept: Despite being the tribe’s patriarch, he was vastly physically inferior to Knuckles.

Perhaps that was why Tom was always checking on Tails and Sonic as they slept!  Knuckles had assumed he was merely taking his role as tribe leader seriously by tending to the youngest members.  Perhaps he was actually checking that Knuckles was asleep!  It made perfect sense now.  This was Tom’s plan all along; gain Knuckles’ trust so he wouldn’t expect an attack.  He’d plied him with key of lime pie and a relaxing film, lulling him into a false sense of security so he could strike while Knuckles was unaware!  It wouldn’t be the first time Knuckles was betrayed, nor the first time he was targeted in his sleep.  

It was time to call on the assistance of his trustworthy tribe members.

Knuckles found Sonic and Tails at their sleeping over party.  They made him leave their slumbering companion’s bedroom and convene outside the house.  Knuckles understood.  Prying ears and all that.  He reported what had happened.  Unfortunately Sonic was too easily distracted.

“Okay, first of all:” he said.  “Snapping off window locks and crawling through second story windows at midnight is exactly the kind of behavior that gets you not invited to sleepovers.”

Knuckles scoffed.  He didn’t care about that!  He would never be able to sleep in a stranger’s home anyway.  For the very same reason why he rarely slept at House Wachowski.  It just wasn’t safe.  And it was even less safe now!

“Second of all: This is probably an honest mistake.”

Knuckles’ jaw dropped in shock.  The hedgehog didn’t believe him?!  “I think you mean: It was probably an honest murder attempt!”

“What did he do, though?”  Tails asked.

“I told you.  I awoke and he was standing over me with a weapon–”

“What kind of weapon?”  Of course Tails would ask, he was a builder of weapons after all.

“A blanket–”

“What?!” Sonic actually laughed.  “Dude, I think he was just trying to put a blanket on you!”

“He was trying to smother me when I was vulnerable!  But I stopped him in time.”

Sonic looked like he was going to laugh more, then paused.  “Wait, ‘stopped him’?  What does ‘stopped him’ entail?”

“I forced him away and broke out the back door.”

Sonic clapped a hand over his face.

“You broke the back door?”  Tails asked.  “But we only just got the wall fixed!”

“That was months ago!”  Knuckles said, voice petulant.  These two were getting distracted by useless details!

“Right… and then what happened?” Sonic asked, sounding suddenly very tired.

“I came here.”

“You didn’t check in with Tom or Maddie?”

“No, of course not!”

The two shared a look that Knuckles did not understand.

“Okay.  I think you just need to go home,” Sonic said.

“Have you not heard what I just told you?”  Knuckles demanded.  He couldn’t go back!  Or… he supposed he could.  Tom’s most potent weapon was a blanket and his arms were long but very weak.  As long as Knuckles was awake and alert, the puny human wouldn’t be able to harm him.

“I heard it,” Sonic said.  “And I think you’ve got nothing to worry about.  Tom won’t attack you.  I promise.  The worst thing that’ll happen when you get back–” he winced as he spoke “--is you’re almost definitely gonna get grounded for breaking the door.”

Knuckles threw out his hands in frustration.  Why was Sonic so caught up on silly things when Knuckles had nearly been killed tonight?

“Sonic is right,” Tails said.  “Tom’s nice.  I don’t think he’d ever hurt us… And the longer you’re away the more trouble you’re going to be in with Maddie.”

Oh.  That was a valid concern.  “Very well,” Knuckles said petulantly.  “I will go back.”

He stalked off the porch, unaware of Sonic and Tails sending each other uneasy looks.  They were clearly too naive to understand Tom’s true nature.  Knuckles wouldn’t be able to rely on them for support.  But he couldn’t just abandon his vow either.  And he must accept punishment for breaking the door or risk Maddie’s further wrath.  He would have to return to House Wachowski.  He would just never sleep there again.

*****

Tom had messed up.  That was pretty clear immediately, of course.  The hole where their back door had been was proof of that.  He and Maddie put a tarp up over the hole and sat up for an hour or so, waiting for Knuckles to return.  Eventually they’d agreed their little warrior was probably not coming back and their talking shifted to discussions of whether or not they should go looking for him.  Their oldest had a habit of leaving for ‘patrols’ in the middle of the night, so he was no stranger to Montana’s nocturnal wilderness.  Eventually they decided to go to bed.

Maddie tossed and turned all night.  Tom knew this because he didn’t sleep much either.

In the morning Knuckles was back.  He reported immediately to Maddie for his ‘sentencing’.  Maddie told him the punishment she and Tom had agreed on: he was grounded until the door was replaced and he also had to clean up the mess he’d made.  Knuckles nodded his head and didn’t look Tom’s way once.  Tom noticed, but didn’t pay it much mind.

Except Knuckles avoided him for the rest of the day.

Was he embarrassed?  Tom had definitely startled him last night and Knuckles had super overreacted… Tom would be embarrassed if he were Knuckles.  But he wasn’t, so he was just worried.

“You doing alright, bud?”  He finally worked up to ask.

Knuckles’ gaze shot to him lightning fast.  “I am in perfect health.” He said it with such venom that Tom was taken aback.

Okay, maybe Knuckles wasn’t embarrassed.  Maybe Knuckles was mad.

Tom’s suspicion was confirmed as the days passed.  Knuckles sat as far away from him as possible during meals.  He’d stalk out of the room if Tom was the only one in it, sit on the floor rather than share the couch, and stand guard at the attic window instead of joining in for bed time stories.

Tom asked Maddie if she’d noticed and she said she hadn’t.  He wasn’t imagining it though! 

When Knuckles wasn’t avoiding him, he was glaring.  Tom kept looking up from housework or yardwork to realize the echidna was watching him.  Usually in a place where Tom could see him, but nobody else would.  Not to mention the last time he’d come home late and gone to check the boys, he’d found Knuckles at the top of the stairs.

The echidna warrior was sitting in the dark, sharpening a spear tip with a stone.  He made unbroken eye contact until Tom muttered a hasty ‘good night’ and left.  ‘Unnerving’ didn’t quite cover it.

Tom had thought Knuckles was angry because he was embarrassed that Tom had startled him.  But he suspected that Knuckles was bearing a grudge because he’d gotten punished for being startled.  Maybe Tom shouldn’t have agreed to a punishment.  He had been the one to startle Knuckles after all.  But no, Maddie insisted.  They needed Knuckles to learn to pause and think twice before breaking things around the house.

Unable to convince the warden of an early parole, Tom tried for a peace offering.  Grapes were his go-to, of course.

Knuckles didn’t eat them.

“You know there’s grapes in here,” Sonic said one day.  “I haven’t touched ‘em because I figured they were for you but they’re probably gonna go bad.”

“I know they’re there,” Knuckles said.  He turned his back and went back to his project (whittling a stick with a stone knife).

Everyone paused to stare at him.

“Are you feeling okay, Knuckles?”  Maddie asked.

“I’m fine,” Knuckles said, cutting more aggressively at the wood in his hands and scattering shavings on the floor.  He didn’t look fine though, now that Tom thought of it.  His eye lids were always at half-mast these days and he didn’t have his usual spring in his step.

“Maybe you’re coming down with something,” Tom said.  “Do you want to lie down for a bit?”

Knuckles jerked his head up and gave Tom the most venomous glare.  “I’m fine,” he said.

Tom was starting to not be fine.  It seemed like every time he saw Knuckles, he was busying himself making a weapon.  Which, yeah, Tails did that too.  But there was just something about seeing Knuckles use a sharp instrument to shape another sharp instrument that was unsettling.  And there was the fact that Knuckles had always talked about ‘vengeance’ like it was a hobby.  Tom was starting to think his son was plotting some kind of payback.

Things came to a head when Tom woke from sleep in the middle of the night, cracked his eyes open, and saw a figure at their bedroom door.  Instantly he was wide awake, heart pounding.  It was dark and he could only see the outline, but he recognized the size and shape of his eldest standing in the doorway.  Knuckles didn’t move.  Didn’t react at all to Tom raising his head.  Except his eyes.  His eyes glowed red.

The hair stood up on the back of Tom’s neck.  He felt like a rabbit getting stared down by a wolf.  And just like a rabbit, he froze.  What else could he do?  Knuckles was faster and stronger than him.  If the kid decided to do something, there was little Tom could do to stop him.  The moment seemed to stretch into eternity, but eventually Knuckles’ eyes faded and he turned away.

When Tom told Maddie the next morning, she tried to brush him off.  ‘Patrolling the perimeter’ at odd hours had been Knuckles’ habit since he’d first come to live with them.  She was far more concerned about the whole ‘not eating grapes’ thing because that wasn’t like him.

Tom took her hands in his, looked her in the eye and said:  “Honey, remember when I promised I would never be that Scary Movie Husband who doesn’t believe his wife when she says the house is haunted?”

He could tell Maddie was trying not to laugh.  She nodded solemnly.  “I do.”

“Well, I think Knuckles being mad at me and plotting revenge is way more likely than us having a haunted house issue.  I need you to go with me on this one.”

She nodded again and it was more genuine this time.  “Alright,” she said.  “That’s completely fair.  But what do you want to do about it?”

Tom breathed a sigh of relief.  “I think we need to get the Knuckles Whisperer.”

***

“I think Knuckles might be planning to kill me,” Tom told Wade at the town’s new coffee shop.  He felt a little bad baiting Wade with the promise of a hangout with him and Maddie only to make it about Knuckles, but Wade didn’t seem to mind so long as it was their treat.

Wade considered what he said, tapping his fingers on his coffee mug.  “I don’t know,” he said.  “I think if he was planning to kill you, you’d never know, y’know?  He’d just do it.”

Tom winced while Maddie nodded, face pinched.  “Thanks Wade,” she said.

“You’re welcome!”

The waitress swung by their table and dropped off a bagel for Wade.  He happily took it and started loading it up with a ridiculous amount of cream cheese.  “What makes you think that he’d want to though?”

They told him about the incident.  How Tom had tried to put a blanket on a sleeping Knuckles.  How Knuckles had freaked out and been acting off ever since.  Describing all the weird stuff Knuckles had been doing, Tom could tell Maddie was understanding his concern more and more rather than just humoring him.  Tom hoped Wade could offer some insight into why this one little incident would make Knuckles so furious and then some advice for disarming the situation before someone (Tom) got hurt.

When he finished, Wade was nodding sympathetically while wiping schmear off his fingers.  “Yeah,” he said.  “That probably scared the pants off him.  I mean, if he wore pants.”

Tom frowned.  “No…”  Maybe Wade had misheard. “I’m the one who’s scared.  Not Knuckles.”

Wade just shrugged.  “I don’t know, man.  He’s got like… sleep anxiety or something.”

“Sleep anxiety?”  Maddie repeated.

Tom was pretty sure Knuckles didn’t even know the meaning of the word ‘anxiety’.

“Yeah, I mean, he told me he used to get attacked in his sleep a lot.”

“Wait, he told you that?”  Maddie asked.  “When?”

Wade just shrugged casually. “During the Reno trip. He didn’t sleep the whole time.”

Tom’s brows rose.  They’d been gone for days.

“And you just… let him?  Not sleep?  For days?”  Maddie asked, tone bordering on dangerous.

Wade held out his hands helplessly.  “I offered to keep watch but he said he wouldn’t sleep anyway.”  He looked down at his hands and fidgeted with his fingers.  “S’like I said… He’s got some hang ups about sleeping.  Maybe he just got scared really bad and he’s not settling down well?”

Tom and Maddie shared a look.  Tom still couldn’t really comprehend Knuckles being scared.  Knuckles had bruised his ribs and broken their door but he’d been sure it was just because Knuckles was startled.  A knee-jerk reaction, not fear.  But at the same time…

“You did say you’d never seen him sleep before,” Maddie said.

“Yeah… And he’s been looking more and more tired.”

Wade held up a hand as if to say ‘there you go’.

“Okay,” Tom organized his thoughts.  “I think Knuckles and I might need to have a little heart-to-heart to clear the air…”  He thought for a moment.  He’d had talks with Sonic, but not with Knuckles yet.  “Might be time for a father-son fishing trip.”

“He’ll probably like it more than Sonic,” Maddie pointed out.

Wade hummed thoughtfully.  “I don’t know… maybe you should avoid stuff that could be mistaken as being, like… y’know… murder-y.”

They both turned to him with mutual looks of confusion.  “Murder-y?”  Tom repeated.  “Wade, even if I scared him–” Which Tom still didn’t believe. “--Knuckles doesn’t think I’m trying to kill him.”

Wade went back to his finger fidgeting.  “I mean maybe he doesn’t but…”  He struggled to get the right words out, speaking slowly.  “You know, you did kinda… sorta… maybe… hashtag triggered him?  So maybe just avoid doing anything that might be construed as suspicious, just in case!”  The last part he said in a rush right before taking a big, noisy slurp of coffee.

The slurp filled the silence as Maddie and Tom again shared an uneasy glance.  Had Knuckles been triggered?  Tom’s knee-jerk reaction was to say that ‘triggered’ was an overreaction.  But hadn’t Knuckles’ reaction… been an overreaction?  Knuckles could throw people and break down doors when he was perfectly calm and aware, so they hadn’t even questioned it when he’d done it that night.  Now, Tom felt unsure again.

“Okay… Maybe we should have a family meeting,” Maddie said.  “Like a non-confrontational intervention… After which we maybe float the option of counseling past them?”

Tom winced.  Sonic hadn’t been into that idea when they’d thrown it out there for him.  He doubted the other two would be any better.  “We can try,” he said.  “I know a family meeting won’t feel as ‘murder-y’ as a solo fishing trip with me but it might still feel kind of confrontational.”  He glanced at Wade to see what he thought.

Wade was contemplating them.  “Maybe… I could come?  I can be on team Knuckles!  That’ll probably make him feel more confident.”

Tom was pretty sure Knuckles had more confidence than the entire family combined, but Knuckles probably would be more open to talking if Wade was there to be his cheerleader.

“Alright,” he said.  “Let’s do it.”

*****

Tom and Maddie called for a tribal council.  Knuckles knew not why.  The last few had been about ‘not destroying property or kidnapping people’, ‘not building traps around the house without permission’, and ‘remembering to put down the toilet seat’.  But this was definitely different than usual.

“Wade!”  He exclaimed, relieved to see someone he could be relied upon.  “Why have you been called to the Wachowski tribal council?”

Wade smiled and shrugged from his place on the couch.  “I’m here for moral support,” he patted the spot next to him.  Knuckles understood this as an invitation to sit beside him, an honor he readily accepted.

“Who here needs to be supported morally?”

“Well,” Maddie cut in to answer.  “We actually wanted to talk with you, Knuckles.  But we don’t want you to feel singled out.”  She looked between Sonic and Tails.  “We just want to clear the air so we all understand each other.”

“I… understand,” Knuckles lied flawlessly.

“We’ve noticed some tension,” Tom began speaking and Knuckles tensed.  “Specifically between–” he waved between the two of them “--you and me.”

Knuckles’ eyes widened.  Was Tom bringing up his vendetta openly now?  Perhaps that was why Wade was here.  If they dueled, custom required Knuckles to have a second.  But Wade must be so confused.

Knuckles turned to him and explained.  “Tom is planning to kill me.”

“What?”  Tom and Maddie asked as one.

“Dude, you’re still on this?”  Sonic asked.  “Tom’s not going to kill you.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Knuckles assured him.

Maddie held up her hands.  “Wait, you guys know about this?”

“Um… Knuckles kind of came over to Evan’s house after the whole ‘breaking down the back door’ incident,” Tails explained.

“He said you tried to kill him in his sleep with a blanket,” Sonic rolled his eyes again.

“I was trying to warn you about the threat in our midst,” Knuckles said.  “But you only care about silly things like doors and window locks.”  He rolled his eyes back at Sonic to show he would not be bested.

“Wait, wait,” Tom waved his hands like Maddie and Knuckles watched hard for any sign of threat.  “Is this why you’ve been guarding the top of the steps?  Do you seriously think I’m a threat to all of you?”

“I guard them anyway,” Knuckles said.  “You are not special.  Why are you always coming to our room at night?”

“So you’ve been watching over us in our sleep?”  Sonic asked.  “Dude, that’s kind of creepy.”  Maddie gave him a look that Knuckles didn’t understand.  Sonic cleared his throat and looked away.

“Of course I guard you in your sleep!  You are younger and weaker than me.”

“But when do you sleep?”  Tom asked.

Knuckles’ eyes narrowed.  “Never.”

“Okay.”  Maddie clapped her hands together.  “I think we need to take a breath and refocus.  Clearly there’s some misunderstanding at play here.”

Knuckles nodded.  “Tom thinks he can assassinate me if I’m asleep. That is a mistake on his part.”

“I… I feel a tiny bit hurt that you’d think I would want to harm you,” Tom tried.

“But you thought…” Maddie muttered.

“Yeah, but that’s got precedent…” Tom muttered back.  “The point is: I would never, ever hurt any of you boys.”

“That’s basically what I said,” Sonic added on.  He turned to Knuckles.  “You’re safe here.”  Tails nodded along.

Knuckles shook his head.  “You are too naive,” he said.

“Knuckles, sweetie–” Maddie started.

“You are too biased,” Knuckles said.  He glanced down at where Ozzie was lying on the floor.  “You too,” he told the dog.  “Only I am objective here… And Wade.”  He looked to his apprentice.  Wade offered him a closed mouth smile and a thumbs up.

“Yup… I am one million percent in your corner, bud!  But uh…”  He drew in a deep breath.  “I don’t think Tom’s trying to kill you though.”

Knuckles gasped, outraged.  Wade was defending this would-be assassin?!

“Smothering just isn’t his style.  That’s like… dishonorable?  Yeah.  And Tom’s got way more honor than that.  I’ve known him a lot longer than you have.  We used to be the protectors of Green Hills before it was you guys, you know.  And we still are!  Just in a different sort of way.”

Oh.  Perhaps Knuckles had known that, but he hadn’t much considered it.  He frowned, considering the implications of this.  Tom was physically inferior and Wade had been a very poor warrior, but they had been the guardians of this region… That could give Tom more reason to bear a grudge toward him.  But Wade would have that same reason, and he bore Knuckles no ill will.

Wade wasn’t done speaking yet.  “Plus, you know, you’re not just a member of the community we protect, you’re part of Tom’s tribe.  You’re family!  He’s basically like your dad, he’s not gonna hurt you.”

Tom and Maddie shared a sentimental look.

“I already have a father,” Knuckles said.  It was more out of petulance than anything else though.  Wade was making some sense.

“I know that,” Tom interrupted, his voice soft.  “Just… Wade’s right.  You’re part of the family.  I’m here to look out for you when you’re vulnerable.”

“You are much weaker than I am,” Knuckles reminded him.

“Yeah, I know that too… But I can do little stuff.  Like… covering you up when you’re sleeping?”

Could that be true?  Had Tom, with his weak arms and tiny fists, been taking advantage of Knuckles’ sleep to attack him?  Or had he, unable to protect Knuckles in any meaningful way, been offering what small protection he could?  Both sounded entirely possible.  But if he trusted Tom and was wrong, that would be it.

Knuckles looked to Wade again.

Wade smiled softly.  “How about it, hm?  You’ve got this really honorable guy who’s not a schmuck and actually wants to be your dad.  Maybe you could just… give him a second chance to prove himself?”

If Knuckles trusted Tom and was wrong, he could pay for it with his life.  But… “You are the smartest person I know,” he said.  “If you vouch for him…”

“Absolutely,” Wade said without hesitation.  “No doubt.  I vouch.  Ten out of ten, no notes.  I’d trust him to be my dad.”

Maddie made a soft sound that Knuckles didn’t understand, but it made Wade’s cheeks flush.

Knuckles sighed.  He trusted Wade.  If Wade trusted Tom, then Knuckles would have to extend his trust as well.  “Alright then,” he said.  He turned to Tom, who returned his gaze with solemn apprehension.  “I will extend a truce.  I will cease monitoring you for suspicious behavior… so long as you keep your distance when I’m sleeping.”

Tom looked a little surprised by his request, but he nodded along.  “I can do that!”

Knuckle extended his fist, offering an unbreakable promise.  He was solemn, but Tom was smiling.  He returned the power bump, his little fist fitting between Knuckles’ spurs.

The unease that had stirred in Knuckles’ heart since this all began was not completely quieted, but he would ignore it for now.

***

Tom got home from the late shift, well after the boys had already gone off to bed.  Not much happened after eight pm in Green Hills, it had been a long, frustratingly dull night.  All Tom wanted to do was check in on his kids, take a shower, and go to sleep.  But he would have to settle for two out of three.

Tom hadn’t seen any of his kids since he’d left for work over nine hours ago.  On a surface level, he’d known that being a parent meant loving your kids.  He hadn’t expected the way seeing them safe and comfortable would be an instant balm.  He stared longingly up at the attic hatch like he’d somehow be able to see through the ceiling.  But it didn’t matter if it would bring him comfort to see them all cozy in their beds, because he’d made a promise.

So Tom walked away.  He took his shower and went to bed.  He would see the boys in the morning.

Overhead Knuckles lay awake.  Tom had kept his promise thus far.  He hadn’t approached while Knuckles slept.  Knuckles knew this because he had stayed awake.  And he would continue to stay awake, to ensure Tom kept his word.

[jesse-pinko]

(Holds gently) more deets on Diane Cipher, my OC Matilda Pines’ past life as a Euclydian! She is a crumpled tissue creature and she has known nothing but misery and strife! She was Bill Cipher’s older sister, and I’m thinking he did something to amplify his powers when he destroyed Euclydia, and that Diane, acting out of rage and desperation, used the same conduit to give herself powers just before she died so that her spirit could survive and take revenge/ stop Bill from destroying other dimensions. She has appeared every time Bill has attempted to conquer dimension 46’\ to assist humanity in keeping him at bay, even working with the first ever witch, a Mesopotamian woman, to help humans learn to harness their dimension’s power so that they could help defend themselves from Bill, though her own powers are even more limited than Bill’s because she is technically also dead and a ghost. She has managed thus far to keep her continued existence a secret from her younger brother because, quote, “why would I want to talk to that @$$&*!€?!” During the establishment of “Silas Birchtree’s” cult, Diane meets Estela De La Cruz, a scrappy young woman out to collect money Silas stole from her brother, who is in prison and owes money to some dangerous people. Emmaline Butternubbins and Estela help Diane put an end to BillVille, but Estela is killed by Bill/Silas in the process. She allows Diane to possess her body so she feels no pain upon her death, and the sudden, threatening shift in Estela’s demeanor disturbs Bill, but he can’t put his finger on why. Diane is in despair after Estela’s death, confiding to the Axolotl that she feels she is using people up to achieve her goals just like Bill, and wonders if the cycle will ever end. She can’t possibly win in the end; he only has to win once and it’s all over. The Axolotl presents her with an alternative: reincarnation as someone who would cross paths with Bill. She would be able to manifest her powers in the physical world, but she would have no memory of her previous life. Maybe it’s traitorous, an insult to their memory, to let go of all she has left, of all that is left of Euclydia. But the memories are too painful, and now she can have a new start, a new, loving family. And she’ll protect them no matter what.