#stop talking about it like its a nice thing-- it could get infected =_=

[ddollipop]

CURB THIS SICKNESS. . . ! — ( SOFT YANDERE!PLAGUE DOCTOR OC X READER. )

#. synopsis! — there's a virus outside that's snuffed out the lights of many. . . and lucian refuses to let you meet such a miserable fate .

#. contains! — f!reader , explicitly nsfw content , multiple orgasms , vaginal fingering , implications of paranoia , cum swallowing , oral sex , cunnilingus , blowjob , vaginal sex , obsessive behavior , frequent usage of endearment terms (love, darling, angel) , missionary position , bathing , established relationship , slight choking , slight hair pulling , creampie , biting .

#. word count! — 5.1k .

#. oc carrd! — click here to find more information on lucian + other original characters of mine that i might write for in the future! xx .

When the virus began to spread in all directions from its alleged location of origin, —you were certain you’d be dead before winter. If not from sickness, then certainly from another disease, or at the hands of some twisted maniac just searching for someone to slaughter that nobody would care enough to miss. You thought it was only a matter of time before you succumbed to hunger or thirst or the changing chill of autumn, or maybe something completely different: but something was bound to happen, and you were sure of it.

And it did. . . But it was nothing like what you had in mind.

Lucian may have seemed like something out of a horror story passed down through generations, still clad in his working attire the night he scooped you up in his arms from a shabby alleyway like a stray kitten, but he was surprisingly gentle (and perhaps unusually quiet.) He wasn’t very talkative, but he cared for you in a way you were completely unaccustomed to, —prepared you a warm meal, brewed you chamomile tea, ran you a hot bath, and gave you a place to sleep for the night. He said you were slightly fevered and a bit malnourished, but all things considered, it could have been worlds worse.

“You’re lucky,” he hummed, a gloved hand smoothing over your jaw, “the pestilence hasn’t taken hold of you.”

Even back then, that wasn’t why you felt lucky. . . No, much to the contrary, you felt lucky because this man had taken you in without expecting anything of you in return, and he sought to keep you safe from the rot of the outside world. Thus, little by little, you stopped caring much about going out there. 

His place is a bit quaint for two, but it’s homey, and it smells perpetually of lavender. Over time, he’s shifted the sleeping arrangements, and now you rest in his arms each night; about as close as one can get to being a lover without having the label.

A part of you is sure you could get it if you asked, but to you, it doesn’t matter much. At the end of each day, he comes home to you, and that’s what counts. You take care of the housework while he’s away (not that there’s ever much to do.) For as odd as he is, his living space is free of most things, —no trinkets unrelated to his work (which you are not keen on touching), and he’s meticulous about picking up after himself and keeping all his items in order, so your unofficial duties are few and far between. Otherwise, the rest boils down to cooking meals, washing clothes, and keeping yourself entertained while he’s away. . . Like some kind of glorified trophy wife.

And sure, this will probably get old eventually, but for now, this is what you’re working with. He likes to have you close and to know where you are, —to know that you’re safe and not out getting infected by anyone or anything. If you’re at his home, you’re safe from all the filth of the outside world, and heaven knows it’s so nice to come home and lie next to a body so utterly unmarred by the grime of society.

You’re sure once the virus has stilled, he’ll ease up.

But tonight is not that night. Lucian all but stumbles through the door, and you can hear his rapid breathing through the long, beak-like shape of his mask. He seems startled and frantic, and you rush over, a concerned expression crossing your features.

“Lucian? Are you alright?” You ask, reaching out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

In an instant, he snatches your wrist and grabs for the other, holding one in either hand. His grip is fervent, but far from painful, and you become more confused the longer he goes without explaining the state he’s found himself in.

“Lucian—”

“Darling,” he cuts you off, “you mustn’t get near the door.”

“Okay,” you nod in compliance, “but why?”

“The pestilence has taken hold of this city,” he replies. “The air out there, you wouldn’t believe the thickness of that putrid aroma. It’s suffocating.”

Before you can ask if there’s something you can do to quench his worries, he tugs you away from the entrance and into the bathroom. He removes his gloves and sets them aside, reaching down to begin running a warm bath. Then he looks to you, almost expectantly.

“Strip, please,” he encourages, —saying it like he’s desperate for the act, albeit not necessarily under the context you’d prefer of him.

“Lucian—”

“Darling,” he hisses, “please, do as I ask of you.”

His bare hands cup your cheeks.

“Please,” he repeats.

It’s hard to deny him when he asks like that and has been so good to you, and it’s not as if he’s asking for a lot. He’s just having a bad night, and if scrubbing yourself down will help ease his mind a bit, you’re willing to put in that sliver of extra effort for his sake.

Lucian sighs in relief as you begin to disrobe.

“Thank you,” he comments. “I really don’t have a clue what I’d do if you fell ill. . . I don’t think my heart could handle such a thing.”

You slip the last of your clothing off and step gingerly into the filling tub. It’s not long enough to stretch out in, so you bunch yourself up neatly to fit the space and look up at him once more.

“I feel fine,” you assure.

“I’m glad,” he replies. “Even so, it’s much better to air on the side of caution. The human body is a dangerously fickle thing, and it can be incredibly fragile. I’ve seen as much firsthand more times than I can count. In its infancy, this virus is little more than a common cold, but progresses into something fatal at a rapid pace.”

You simply nod as he kneels next to the tub, rolling his sleeves up.

“Your breathing is ragged, Lucian,” you state, “you should take that mask off and get some fresh air.”

“After,” he answers quickly.

He reaches for the half-used lavender soap bar and lathers it on his palms, then reaches out to smooth the suds over your arms and neck. His motions are a little rough and all too urgent. This is far from the first time he’s accompanied you for a bath, but it is the first time he’s ever done so and been this aggressive in his approach (if only as a result of his own anxiety.)

For the time being, he seems to avoid your breasts, instead reaching for one of your legs to hike it up out of the water. He repeats this process with the other, cleaning you until he seems satisfied. When he makes no move to revisit your chest, you take the soap from his hand and lather it yourself, placing it in its previous spot before leaning back slightly and allowing your hands to travel where you’d have liked for his to go.

Lucian watches but doesn’t touch. Your fingertips nudge at your nipples, feeling them harden under the minstrations, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth. If nothing else, he should be getting the hint by now.

Surprisingly, you’ve never had sex with him in all the months you’ve spent curled up in his arms, sleeping in his bed. He’s watched you take care of yourself on a number of occasions, has helped with his fingers another few times, —and allowed you to wrap your hand around him once a few weeks prior; but anything beyond that has seemed to be off limits. You’ve chalked it up to his shyness, or perhaps his distaste for human contact as a result of the pestilence; but tonight feels distinctly different.

Even in his previous state of frazzlement, Lucian seems all too content to sit back and watch you fondle your own breasts, soapy fingers clutching and releasing in tandem. You’ve always liked for him to watch you do things like this. Though his mask obscures the view of his face, you just know his eyes are trained on you, soaking up every movement, and you like to think he’s drooling at the way you grope yourself for his enjoyment (and for your own.)

“Lucian?” You prompt, half-lidded eyes glancing over to him.

His shoulders straighten as you say his name.

“You’re very beautiful,” he says, words almost too muffled by the mask to be made out.

“You think so?” You smirk a bit.

“I do.”

Ah, but that’s nothing new, and it’s nothing he hasn’t shared with you before. On the very night he took you in and washed your hair, he smoothed his gloved hands against your scalp and mumbled about how pretty you looked, even with dirt still caked on your skin. Even covered in filth from the alleyways you’d been sleeping in, he thought you were nothing less than stunning, —a real vision to behold, and he’s never skimped on such compliments.

You pause for a moment, reaching out to grasp for his hands. He allows the gesture, though he seems a bit confused, leaning in closer to the rim of the tub as you position him to your liking.

“Do you think I feel feverish?” You inquire, placing one of his hands on your neck and another on one of your breasts.

He makes no move to pull away, firming his grip up almost instantaneously, as if he’s been itching to feel you this way.

“Perhaps a bit warm,” he mumbles, taking a moment to roll your nipple between two nimble fingers, “but body temperature is known to rise during times of. . .” he trails off, clears his throat, then utters: “arousal.”

You trail your nails down his arm, letting your head tip back again. His hands are a bit calloused, but they feel so good against your skin, and you let a few moans slip past your lips. It’s not often he touches you like this without his gloves on, but the flesh-on-flesh contact is electrifying.

“Not to worry you, but I do feel a bit strange,” you huff slightly.

Through the slightly tinted bath water, Lucian can still watch your hand as it travels between your thighs.

“I’m just a throbbing mess,” you hum, giving him a pointed stare; “but you’ll take care of me. . . Right, Doctor?”

It may just be your imagination, but you could swear you heard his breathing shudder at that request. You’ve never been this forward with him, but something apart from the facial expression that’s still hidden away tells you that he likes where this is going. His fingers clamp down on the column of your throat, squeezing just enough to make taking in air a bit more of a struggle, but not anywhere near hard enough to be fatal.

The bit about being a throbbing mess was by no means an exaggeration on your part, so you take matters into your own fingers for the time being, drawing circles on your clit beneath the water.

“Of course,” he finally finds the voice to agree, “—I’d do anything to keep you from feeling unwell.”

That is what you like to hear.

“Anything?”

“Anything.” 

His grip tightens on your throat again, for emphasis, and with that, he seems to come slightly undone.

“Darling, that’s why I’ve demanded you stay here in my home, —our home. It’s safe here, free of contaminants and filth and anything that could cause you harm,” he says, the words spilling out like he’s been holding them back since he first set his sights on you.

“The world outside is ill, not just this rotten city. I’m working tirelessly to combat this pestilence, but as things stand now, the safest place you can be is here. With me. You understand that, my love. . . Don’t you?”

You’re only half listening, but you nod in agreement anyway. Whatever he’s saying, you trust his opinion on the matter.

“Of course,” you gasp, almost slipping a finger inside yourself to the tune of his melodic voice.

“I knew you would,” he continues, loosening the grip on your neck again. “You know I only want what’s best for you, that everything I do is to ensure your safety, —to eliminate the possibility of you ever falling sick.”

“Of course,” you repeat, head growing cloudier by the minute. “You’ve always taken such good care of me, right from the very beginning.”

God, he’s so elated that you’re seeing things his way. The way this makes him feel is almost too much to handle.

“I try so hard, darling, I truly do,” he says, both hands coming up to cup your cheeks.

“Please, Lucian,” you mumble desperately, “I need you tonight.”

He complies, shedding his long coat and draping it over your shoulders once you’ve stepped out of the tub. The chill of the air against your wet skin leaves your nipples hard and sensitive, and as he leads you to the bedroom, you hope he realizes just what it is you’re asking for. His fingers are a plentiful start, and you just know they’ll feel so good stuffed inside you, curling to hit all the right places, —but they’re nothing compared to the cock he’s stingily hidden away for all this time.

Tonight, you want him in all his glory in the glow of the lanterns on the walls. You want to strip him bare and gag on the length between his thighs, feel him twitch against the roof of your mouth, tease every vein that runs up his shaft. It’s not enough to grind against him while you’re half asleep or hump his clothed thigh until you’ve left his pants damp and your pussy sopping, just begging to be fucked by this man who might just love you more than he could ever fear any virus that lurks outside these walls.

“Don’t fret,” he tells you, though it sounds more like a command than a gesture to soothe any worries, “just lie back. I’ll be sure to give you. . . A proper examination.”

You could cum just hearing that.

With half your body pressed against the headboard and his coat nearly slipping off your body completely, he sets to work in his underclothes and mask. It’s by no means an uncommon sight, but there’s something distinct about him this late evening; the way his black attire contrasts so beautifully with the stark paleness of his skin and the mystery it shrouds him in that you’re just dying to sink your teeth into. Everything hidden beneath that cautious wardrobe and that long mask. . . You’ve gotta have it. It’s a necessity.

His fingers, ungloved, begin softly with your calves, tracing senseless lines.

“I’m not so fragile,” you remind him.

For as oblivious as he can be, Lucian takes the hint, and by the time he’s reached your thighs, he’s content to give them the same treatment as your throat.

The way he splits you apart is almost painfully clinical, a thumb on either side of your lips, peering through the eye holes of his mask to admire the way your folds glisten in the orange lantern light. A few prodding strokes leave you biting your lip again, body waning in anticipation for the moment he finally turns his hand over and sinks the longest of his fingers inside you, —slowly, but deliberately. It’s impossible to see his expression, but you hope his mouth hangs open a little at the way your cunt suckles on his finger, encouraging him to prod more and maybe stuff another few inside for you to grind against.

There’s something about the warmth of his fingers that gets you off almost in equal amounts to the way he moves. Another finger inside, and you whine, halfway to an orgasm from this alone.

He’s not particulary rough in his execution, but there’s a clean meticulousness in every movement that leaves every cell in your body craving more, begging for anything he can offer. Months upon months of wanting, of dropping hints, of hoping he’d catch on and finally see things your way, —and at last, you’ve made it. And now that you’re here, you’re content to simply lie still and let him have his way with you.

“Please don’t stop,” you beg, nearly choking on the words when the tips of his fingers brush just the right spot.

“Before you’re satisfied?” He sits forward a bit, resting his free hand on your stomach to press you down onto the bed. “Darling, I couldn’t fathom it.”

You will your upper body forward, grabbing for the hand on your stomach to move it up to your throat. He squeezes, scissoring the fingers inside you, watching closely as your body shakes and your eyes roll back a bit in ecstasy.

“I’ve tried,” he says to you suddenly. “I’ve tried so desperately to be gentle with you.”

You smile.

“I appreciate that,” you answer. “But I don’t want you to be gentle at the moment.”

“That’s a dangerous request, my love,” he warns.

God, you hope so.

You reach forward and grab at the beak of his mask, pulling it upward gently until it begins to slip off and reveal the handsome face underneath. Dark hair, dark eyes, but skin almost pale enough to be sickly, you meet his gaze just long enough to ask for permission, then lean in to kiss him on the mouth. It’s the first time, and it’s electric. He’s avoided this for months, —avoided your mouth, your unspoken pleas, all the passes you made for the sake of keeping himself at bay. But here you are now with two of his fingers stuffed inside you, his hand on your throat, and your lips slotted against his own.

“Please,” you murmur, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt.

And you can feel the restraints of his mind come unwound.

He’s no longer gentle in the way he fucks you silly with his fingers, hammering them over and over and over again into that delicious spot buried deep inside you, squeezing your throat hard enough to cut your breathing off. The way your pussy spasms as you cum is blissful, and he loves the way your arousal soaks his digits, loves the way your back arches, soundless moans spilling forth as he makes you orgasm.

“I fucking tried,” he says again.

It’s almost manic, so desperate and sort of pathetic in the kind of way that turns you on. This is the first time you’ve ever heard him curse, and it dawns on you that even the filthiest of words sound so unendingly elegant when they’re spoken by Lucian.

“I tried to be gentle. I tried to keep you safe here, —to shelter you from whatever forsaken wasteland remains out there,” he insists, his fingers still buried in your twitching cunt. “I just wanted to protect you.”

He lightens the grip on your throat as you lean in to kiss him again, cupping his face in your hands.

“You have,” you assure him.

“You take such good care of me, Lucian,” you mumble into his ear. “Let me show you how grateful I am.”

The fingers stuffed inside you slowly slip out, and reach for his hand, guiding them to your lips, taking his digits into your mouth to taste yourself on them. He watches with hunger and interest as you clean him with your tongue. He leans in to kiss you to get a taste of it himself, grasping your hair near the scalp and taking a fistful hard enough to make you gasp.

“I can’t let you leave,” he murmurs. “It’s not safe out there. When this pestilence has been subdued, I’ll do this all correctly. We can start from the beginning, and I’ll be a gentleman.”

“I look forward to it,” you answer softly.

“You’ll stay until then?” He inquires.

He’s clearly overreacting, but it’s hard to care when you just want him inside you. Lucian has seen death day in and day out, —so it’s no wonder it feels like it permeates everything around him. He just doesn’t want you to suffer such a fate, and you’re confident that you won’t, as long as he’s yours.

“Of course I will,” you answer.

It’s like something primal takes over. Suddenly his lips are on yours in a bruising kiss, and his hands are grasping roughly at your breasts, pushing you down onto the bed as he crawls between your legs. He pauses, hovering just above your dripping cunt, turning his head to sink his teeth into the meat of your thigh. It makes you squeal a bit, and he kisses the teethmarks he left behind as if in apology.

You can’t help but wonder how long he’s been yearning for this. It’s like every part of him is thrumming from the thrill of it all, and this man who has previously refused to even kiss you on the mouth is now stationed exactly where you want him, tongue lolling out to lick a solid stripe up your folds. He laps like a man starved, then spreads you apart with his thumbs to suck your clit mercilessly.

It’s good enough to make your vision go blurry, and you can’t seem to form proper words through the haze. Desperately, your fingers claw at the sheets of this mattress, and he moans against your hot cunt, sending a vibration rippling through your core that makes your back arch on instinct. You mumble something that comes out like gibberish, pussy convulsing against the flat of his tongue.

His arm comes round to press your hips down, forcing you to be still. It’s the kind of toruture you’re sure you’ll learn to live for. There’s only so much you can wriggle under his arm, which has a surprising amount of force despite his rather lanky stature.

From what little friction you manage as you attempt to grind against his tongue, you tip yourself over the edge and as the knot in your stomach unties for the second time tonight, he continues licking, lapping at the juices that spill forth.

He stands and reaches for the top button of his shirt, not bothering to wipe his face, chin and lips glistening with your aftermath. You watch him undress with lustful eyes, propping yourself up on your elbow, then slinking back against the headboard once again, resting your weary body against it. The quiver of your thighs doesn’t stop you from nudging at your swollen clit.

“I wanted to be a gentleman,” he comments, untucking the shirt from his pants and pulling the front open.

It’s not skin you haven’t seen before. In fact, you’ve seen every inch of him at one point or another; just never all at once, and now, you’re waiting with bated breath to see him completely exposed for your eyes only.

“I truly did. I wanted to give you comfort and security, —to love you as you deserve. And I knew from the moment I saw you that only I could give you exactly what you’ve always needed.”

You hum in acknowledgement as he continues to strip himself bare.

“But it’s so clear to me now that I’ve neglected you,” he continues. “This beautifully desperate display is all a result of my negligence. . . I failed to realize just how much you needed me like this. How much you needed the touch of a man. . .”

He sounds apologetic, but your eyes are fixated on his half-hard cock. The last time you saw it, he asked that you keep your mouth away; insisting it wasn’t sanitary to use it for such purposes, terrified that you might contract some sort of illness if you sucked his dick for the sheer enjoyment of doing so. This time, however, you have a feeling you’re well past that.

To test the waters, you let your hand fall away from your cunt, slipping off the side of the bed to kneel before him. He gazes down at you as you open your lips and let your tongue fall out, encouraging him to make what he will of it.

“My love,” he says, placing four fingers under your chin to rest his thumb against your tongue for a moment, “—I’ll make everything up to you. . .”

His free hand pumps his cock once, twice, thrice, —then he places it gently on the flat of your tongue, letting you feel the weight and the warmth of it. He sighs.

“Darling,” he groans, “ah. . .”

It takes very little for him to come close to cumming in your mouth, just a few minutes of sucking him off, listening to him moan, feeling him quiver at your touch. You hum with his member stuffed down your throat, and he cants his hips reflexively, an orgasm bubbling up beneath his skin.

Your non-dominant hand holds his cock steady while the other is stuck between your thighs, rubbing furiously at your clit, making you whimper along his shaft. When he notices, Lucian finds that wholly unacceptable and snatches you up to position you on the edge of the bed, relieving the pressure on your aching knees. You weren’t down there for long, but kneeling was hardly comfortable on the hard floor.

He spreads your thighs apart and smacks the pads of his fingers against your slit.

Whatever he’s doing, you’re sure you’ll enjoy it to the fullest, so you occupy yourself with his cock again from this new angle, bending awkwardly to mouth at the reddened tip. His fingers find their way inside you once more, working their delicate magic, brushing against all the right places. At this point, you’re more desperate for his dick to slip inside you like this, but you take what he offers in stride (and more of him into your mouth in the process.)

He’s vocal, and that’s utterly divine. His gravely moans and the pump of his fingers leave you cumming for a third time before his first orgasm arises, depositing a sizable amount of his seed into your mouth.

“I love you,” he huffs, —and if he were anyone else, you’d be certain it was just the oral sex talking, but no. . . Lucian wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it.

Of course, he’s made similar confessions over the months, and has certainly treated you like it long before he ever expressed it so directly, but still. . . It feels nice to hear it, if nothing else.

“I love you too,” you answer honestly, urging him closer with your arms wrapped around his neck. “I’m yours tonight, completely. . . If you’ll have me. . .”

“Oh, darling, don’t be foolish,” he remarks, kissing you deeply. “You’ve been mine since the moment we met.”

Your back to the cool sheets, he lingers over you now, his shadow looming over you so monstrously. There’s a stark flush of red on his face that has begun to spread down the length of his neck, and one of his hands finds its way to your breasts as the other smoothes across your thigh. The head of his cock kisses your sopping entrance, sending a series of chills from the top of your spine to the bottom.

His breath on your neck makes your chest tighten, and he finds your lips with his own again as he sinks inside you, filling you up.

“Lucian,” you whimper, helpless to his touch as he pauses, buried down to the hilt inside your cunt.

He presses a few gentle kisses to your throat, murmuring something about how nice it feels to be stuffed inside you. He feels your nails dig into his shoulders as you adjust to his intrusion.

“You must understand by now,” he says, mumbling the words right next to your bitten earlobe. “Everything I do is for you.”

“I do,” you gasp slightly. 

As he begins to move, your walls clench around him, and he exhales deeply against the junction of your neck and shoulder. You roll your hips to match his pace, but as he goes faster, that becomes fruitless. Eventually, you resign yourself to the fate of lying there against the pillows, speared on his cock, him making a mess of you as you moan uncontrollably.

This was everything you’d been hoping for and then some, like some erotic dream come to life. Lucian’s lips travel where they please, —stopping to peck at your jaw, then to suck on your throat. Your breathing is haggard, and he smooths a hand down your side, resting it against your hip for a moment.

“Just a little more,” he whispers, as if to be reassuring.

“Just look how stunning you are, angel,” he murmurs, “how pretty you look like this.”

He kisses you once more.

“You take this so well, like your body was made for me.”

You’re delirious enough to believe that might be the case.

His cock pounds a little harder, and he hits the perfect spot, tearing a desperate yelp from your throat. You’re overstimulated and weak, but your high is itching just under your skin, and you couldn’t bear to see it disappear.

“Please,” you whimper to him, completely at his mercy, “—please, I’m so close.”

He loves the desperation that clings to your voice. The hand on your hip travels to your clit, pressing roughly against the abused little button, making you jerk slightly. He rubs a few heavy circles against it, and you come undone, cunt spasming around his cock as he chases his own release inside you.

Lucian is sloppy near the end, which may just be the only time you’ve ever known him to not be perfectly calculated and precise. His breath hits your neck again, over and over as he huffs through the hunt, finally sinking his teeth in when he comes to a finish. His cum sits hot inside your cunt, and he catches his breath for a moment, head resting against your throat.

“I apologize,” he utters. “I hope that wasn’t too much for you.”

You exhale slowly, his cock still buried in your heat.

“Don’t apologize,” you murmur, “I enjoyed myself.”

You feel him smile against your neck.

“I’m glad, darling.”

For the first time, he sleeps next to you without clothing, letting you touch every part of him, tangling your limbs together. Your face buried in the crook of his neck, breath fanning softly against him, as close to sleep as you can manage without tumbling over the precipice, Lucian reaches for his long coat and drapes it over your body, holding you closer.

[rene-darling]

THEY- treat your wounds

Just a reminder I do more fandoms than just genshin lol

...Judar...hakuryuu...sinbad...

Judar

Judar never really minded the fact that he couldn't use healing spells

In his words "why would someone as strong as me need healing spells pft-"

But oh God was he eating up his words right about now

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me earlier what if this thing gets... infected?!?" "...judar. It's not like you could help very much"

He knew this he knew he couldn't help with healing spells- he's known this for a long time but- why is it only now that he regrets not trying harder?

He's trying, he's trying so hard to heal you the look of defeat on his face is not a sight you see often sighing, you moved over to judar a little "judar..calm down, we can't go back yet. Just- give me my bag I have some first aid in it.."

Without saying a word he grabs your bag and hands you what he thinks is the first aid kit that you're talking about you take out some things that you're gonna use to clean your wound but soon you run into trouble- see your wound is on your back and as you shift to try to clean it a sharp jolt of pain hits

You let out a small groan but continued as there wasn't anything else you could do but perceiver

Judar watched as sweat drilled from your head as you tried to shift your position to see the tear God..he couldn't handle looking at you like this but he was clueless as to what he should do...

"Just...just- give me that" it surprised you a bit when Judar snatched the cloth from your hand "come here.." he gently? lowered your head to lay on his lap so you were laying on your stomach

Judar has been given punishments for acting out by al thamen plenty of times so he's watched as servants cleaned his wounds before so he's trying with all his might to replicate that

"Just..just tell me if it hurts..or- if I'm doing something wrong.." this was very unlike your judar in every scenario you had imagined him laughing at your injuries but treating them and reassuring you- oh wow

"..maybe I should get injured more often so I can see this side of you eh?-" in response, he didn't say anything but instead pressed a little too hard on your wound which was followed by an array of apologies from you

This- this felt nice contrary to the aching wound on your back, being gently touched by judar as he tried his best to softly clean your wound and apply some medicine was somehow almost soothing

"Thanks..judar " "mh"

hakuryuu

He's more worried about your wound than you- he looks like he's gonna cry-

You spoke too soon he did start crying and like a baby at that

It almost seemed like he was the hurt one

You end up comforting him...

He's crying almost sobbing "hey, haku...dont cry my dear its fine " he's just a mumbling crying whining mess "b-but...you, I, h-...how?" he's just a little crying mess in a puddle of his own tears

You hug him close ignoring any pain from the wound but when he tries hugging you back you let out a slight groan and he realizes what an idiot he's being, I mean your the ones who's hurt what the hell is he doing right now!!

He starts to stop crying still sniffling but it's better than before "c-...come here" he gently helps you lay down as he grabs bandages from his bag

"i-if you feel, any discomfort...tell me, okay?" his voice is small and you hear a small gasp when he gets a good view of your injury "y/n..." he whispers under his breath not sure how he could comfort you...

You can feel his hands shake as he cleans your wounds the little trembles of his body as worry overcomes him "don't worry my dear haku..."

"how...how could I not" you can hear his voice breaking as he quietly sobs once more

Sinbad

He's worried so so worried

The second he hears that your injured he rushes to your side and hold your hand

He's also mad, not at you but himself he should've been there to protect you!

"y/n...how did this...what happend...i-" it seems that for once even so bad is at a loss for words

He brings the best doctors in the nation no the world to come treat you, he holds your hand as they treat you his heart stops everytime your grip gets tighter indicating that your hurting "i-its gonna be...fine, fine...dont worry" it seems the reassure me is meant for himself more then it is for you

After the doctors leave he traces the area around your wound careful not to touch it...sinbad isn't the most caring person in the world and you've never seen him look so...afraid

"y/n...please next time tell me if your hurt, if you need help. Please " it's almost as if he's begging you more then asking

His voice breaks at the end of his sentence as you look at him and nod...you might not do what he says but at least you reassure him

[charismabee]

Thinking about the Hunted and the Paranoid They'd be such a force to be reckoned with if one of the others got hurt (assuming separate bodies for my convenience). They'd both immediately be in protective mode because a) injured member of the flock, susceptible to preditors, must protect until healed and b) if its not properly treated it might get worse, it might get infected and then they'll die and a piece of the group will be lost and then they'll all start dying and everything will be terrible forever.

So whoever is injured is dragged to the nest or whatever place is currently safest to be fussed over by the Paranoid while the Hunted watches over them. I can see the Hunted being like 'I'll protect you' and sitting on top of them, covering their body like an overprotective blanket while Paranoid worries over them being crushed or suffocated by the protective cuddle. They're fine Hunted is like 90% fluff and feathers. Not that heavy, perfect blanket. Everyone who isn't injured has to avoid them because Hunted will lash out if you get too close to the injured person he's protecting, abs then they get stuck in there with the injured person because they've been scratched.

I can see the others reacting in a variety if different ways to this.

Hero, Broken, Opportunist, and Smitten would probably enjoy the attention.

Hero a bit more bashful and grateful for the help even if its excessive which it probably is.

Broken being a mix of shocked that anyone would be nice to him and mopey about how he doesn't deserve it and what's the point in helping him. He's just going to get hurt again later anyway.

Opportunist takes the opportunity (ha) to get attention and affection and conformation that everyone likes him because let's be honest with ourselves he may act cocky but that man is desperate.

Smitten is a weird one. He's the type to be all 'these five stab wounds are nothing in the face of my dedication and love', but he probably loves being taken care of. He would prefer if it was the princess though.

Cold and Skeptic would just put up with it.

Cold doesn't care enough to stop them, though he will tell them that he's fine and they're being stupid and his broken arm isn't a problem, pain isn't a bad thing, they don't believe that and Paranoid tries yet again to explain to him why pain is bad.

Skeptic knows it's excessive but he also knows it'll soothe their worries if he lets them confine him to the nest for a week. He can do his philosophy in there it isn't a huge deal for him. He gets to pester them about the inner workings of their minds while he's there too, enrichment.

Cheated, Contrarian, and Stubborn would complain the whole time.

Cheated would so be a whiner about the whole thing. He hates being hurt, and he hates being taken care of even more. It's like an admission that whatever hurt him won. Which it didn't. He'd be even more upset if they didn't fuss over him though because that wouldn't be fair.

Contrarian would hate being stuck in one place for an extended period of time. Just knowing he's not allowed to leave makes him want to really bad, plus he gets bored easy and Hunted keeps puffing up and hissing at everyone until they leave so he can ensure Contrarian is safe so he only has these two worryworts to talk to and they're no fun to wind up because they're too busy fussing to react to his japes and such.

Stubborn would hate being seen as weak. He doesn't need to be protected or patched up, he's stronger than that. They'd still get him to let them do it, but like the Skeptic it's only for their piece of mind. He still complains the whole time.

Hunted would hate being injured and having Paranoid fuss over him. He doesn't like staying still. He'd probably sit through it though because he's objective enough to understand that if injured he does need to heal. After all, how will he evade preditors if injured?

Paranoid I could see appreciating the Hunted watching over him. He'd patch himself up tho, no one is getting near him while he's hurt, Hunted helps keep everyone else away though so it works.

[spacedlexi]

Kenny and Violet anon here YES.

Violet is upset because someone she defended against her found family of 8 years let her get taken by brainwashing adults for 2 seconds and everyone flips their lid.

But Kenny refuses to stop a train, and gets into a whole fight with Lee over it (AND REFUSES TO HELP YOU FIND A LOST LITTLE GIRL WHILE YOU’RE FIGHTING OFF AN INFECTION, where as Violet always defends you in Episode 1 regardless of whether you ignored and/or antagonized her or not), and gets mad at an 11 year old for not being able to handle helping someone in labor by herself and everybody’s like “Nah it’s okay, his family died years ago so he gets to do whatever he wants.” as if Violet didn’t witness one of the only consistent family members in her life die in front of her 💀

There’s so many comparisons I could make and one day I’ll make a Venn Diagram about all of their similarities but for now I’m glad someone pointed this out.

there are some things kenny does that have No excuse (like refusing to help bitten lee look for missing clem all because hes mad you didnt side with him enough. leaving lee to singlehandedly save himself in the pharmacy because he got scared. threatening to slap clem for blaming herself for lees death. off the top of my head). but his behavior on the train is annoying yet understandable. he doesnt want to admit his son is dying and he feels like duck dying in the first place is his fault for not saving shawn. you can convince him to stop without things getting physical

the Problem comes in when people can understand and sympathize with kennys annoying/shitty actions, but when it comes to violet (who has the same "my family is dead and its made me bitter and closed off" backstory (and her whole arc is about learning to love and care again)), suddenly all understanding goes out the window. even tho shes not even a FRACTION as annoying and shitty as kenny can get 😭😭

violet is mean to clem for the One scene where youre introduced to her (ignoring your first moment with her in the courtyard where shes smiling at clem so you already know her shitty attitude later is a lie. louis even defends her. wingman lol. and depending on what you say in response to her you can Immediately see the regret on her face LOL). but before the scene even Ends shes complimenting clem and clem loves it. then youre forced to talk to her and tenn about the twins, you have a nice card game where you can joke around with her, then she shows up at the dorm and they have a nice heart to heart about how theyre BOTH struggling with the loss of people theyve loved, and they can sympathize about both being harsher than they intend (THEY GET EACH OTHER CANONICALLY)

and vi not being "a people person" is a huge part of her arc?? she doesnt like that shes like this 😭 but shes also better with people than she gives herself credit for and its why she makes a good leader. (and even if you pick the "came off strong" option clem is OBVIOUSLY teasing about it but vi cant tell and gets defensive ("its not like im trying to be bffs or whatever. sorry" is so "you want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid" of her)

and then after this shes never mean to clem again?? (unless you antagonize her but even then its mostly just about her standing her ground and not taking shit she doesnt deserve. which is fair). shes only mean to brody while fishing (and shes mean to brody because deep down she blames HERSELF) and the whole POINT of that scene is to try and mend their broken relationship which immediately makes vi a happier/nicer person if you do (also interesting how louis doesnt get any shit for His behavior while hunting 🤨 no hes just cool and fun). violet also apologizes for being "weird" in the dorms the previous night as well (bby girl why are you afraid that everything you do is weird 😭 she says that word a lot)

violet will Always have clems back (in EP1 and 2!!) No Matter What you do or say to her. i think people take her loyalty for granted. so if you dont save her in EP2 and expect to continue to have her unwavering loyalty in EP3? thats a You problem. she is Fucked Up mentally on that boat by lilly and her not-exactly-ex, and then gets caught in the explosion she didnt want anything to do with. AND THEN SHE APOLOGIZES because she recognizes she was WRONG

(not her literally trying to make a joke about it to ease the tension 😭 people dont give her credit for also having a sense of humor. like louis is the only one who cracks jokes around here) but again when it comes to kenny his actions are understandable and defendable even without an apology 🙄 i literally side with kenny on Everything except the larry thing and if you dont make the right dialogue choice with him? he will not help you look for clem. because of larry 😐 i killed your son for you bro and then took care of his walker doppelganger so you didnt have to. and this isnt even touching his behavior in S2. and yet despite everything he does hes still one of the most beloved characters in the fandom 🤨

i just have to remind myself sometimes that all vi options were made 53-61% and the vi haters are a loud minority. her always being above 50% is so interesting to me because i love when choices are split perfectly 50/50. but the way the fandom talks about her (and the women in general) you wouldnt think shes technically the more popular option (and i Hate playing the popularity card its so annoying, but im only doing it bc people also say shit like "maybe if vi wasnt so mean more people would pick her" they DO pick her!!! you just got mad she was mean for 5 seconds, never payed attention to her again, and used her determinate reaction on the boat as justification for not liking her 😑) (also ignores how mean louis gets in EP2 regardless of choice?? but like kenny His actions are defendable and sympathetic and hers arent 🙄)

[offbranddrpepsi]

Hello! I'm not sure if you do this so feel free to just ignore this request if you don't :]! Could I request a Reyna X trans! Male reader that already had his surgery but some people were mean to him saying his still a female (how would Reyna react to them, comfort reader, etc) have a great day/night!

I am always open for asks like this because I know how much comfort they can give people as well as it just feels nice to have something like this sometimes. I hope you enjoy it and will be writing it as both top and bottom surgery (though the focus will be top surgery for obvious reasons). This is not proof read as im still a bit sick and finished a book recently so rereading anything makes my brain soup so i apologize for any mistakes.

Reyna is no stranger to being different though she doesn't understand why it is such a big deal for some. As such she is as well read as she can be when it comes to queer issues, especially if they involve her partner or someone close to her. She may not be perfect but she is always willing to listen and understand. Since day one when you introduced yourself she had asked for your pronouns, a habit Gekko had gotten her into, and didn't ask any questions past that. At that point you had obvious defined hips, despite trying to hide them, and a notable bump in your chest as binders weren't perfect but she never questioned it. You called yourself a man so she did and when you came out to her you could tell the dots connecting in her brain as you spoke. If someone misgendered you she would just very bluntly correct them with a "he." then stare at them with those vibrant eyes until you folded. Reyna was like having a guard dog that, even if they disregarded your identity, made it hard for anyone to disrespect you to your face in her presence. As you two grew closer and became a pair she would get a little intrusive but well meaning. She would ask you about physical things ranging from affection to more intimate ones. How you wanted her to handle you or refer to you, if you were comfortable with her seeing you in certain clothing or ways etc. Reyna is a woman who likes to establish clear boundaries and does so with you so she can be the best girlfriend she can be while also making sure you are comfortable. If permitted she can be found at times stealing your clothes like most girlfriends would, favoring anything oversized or jackets. She never stops gushing about her partner and boyfriend, even talking about how her sister would adore you and probably see you as a brother. At the end of the day who you are at the surface doesnt matter to her as she cares more about whats under it all, appearances be damned.

Post surgery shes adorable and overbearing as you heal. She helps change bandages, drains, even helps you shower if needed. Her radiance lets her monitor your heart rate and body temp so at the first sign of any infection or inflammation shes right on top of it making you take medicine and rest. Once you're healed enough she is the first to nuzzle herself into your chest and sit in silence as she hears your heart beat, you breath, just you exist as a more full version of yourself thats hopefully happier being in your own skin. Given how supportive and loving she is she absolutely takes it HORRIBLY when people are still mean and cruel to you. She makes sure to over talk them with your pronouns and correct name, throwing compliments at you in there as well to make them feel absolutely smothered by her. Of course thats when you're there, when you arent shes snarling and threatening them in the way shes best at. Teeth bared shes asking them to repeat themselves, seeing how dedicated they are to their bigotry before tearing into them. If theres one things Reyna is good at its being scary and damn does she scare them into at least being politely silent. When it comes to comforting you shes your biggest fan already but shes admittedly a tad bad at it because she doesn't really get why they have to be like that. Before it made sense because maybe they slipped up or just weren't thinking but now that you've taken steps to masculinize yourself more she sees absolutely zero excuse. Reyna holds you against her and promises to make sure you don't have to hurt again, to weed out those that would treat you this way. She makes threats of ripping tongues out but calms herself to turn her attention to you. You're the one that was hurt by people to small minded to be accepting, being vengeful won't fix that right now. For as long as you need she is there, holding you and talking to you. She talks you into setting up a date where she introduces you to her family that accept you just as she had. She arranges shopping trips to get you more masculine clothes and even helps you donate your old binders to other trans youth. Reyna even pulls Gekko in to "help his big brother out" as theres just some things about being a man that she doesn't understand but knows having someone like him around would be helpful

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Chapter 12: Recovery

A/N: I finished sitting this so I decided to get it out, because in true ADHD fashion I can’t keep it to myself.

Warnings: Incorrect medical talk (probably.) lots of feels, so much touching in this chapter omg. Probably more ND behaviour (definitely). Erm…feelings *insert Crowley gif here.*

Word Count: 5.4k+

You lost track of the days. Hours shifted, blending into one long continuous run of you worrying about Tech. Tesama stepped right into the breach with Beetoo, the pair of them running the medcentre while you watched monitors and ever changing numbers.

Tech had contracted an infection. It was inevitable really, performing such a drastic surgery in the ship rather than back here where it was clean and sterile. He needed more blood which Hunter and Wrecker seemed more than willing to provide, but you put a stop to that when Hunter accidentally gave too much and nearly passed out in the chair.

They visited whenever they could, checking on you and Tech, usually Omega stayed behind when the others went on missions; her knowledge was invaluable when it came to the clones.

You were stretched. Pushing your own knowledge and experience to the absolute limit even when it came so naturally. You had taken to sleeping on a cot in Tech’s room, your senses attuned to any changes in his breathing or heart rate even without the machines you had him hooked up to.

Right now you were staring at him, wishing he would just open his eyes and look at you with those haloed irises you missed so much. It was late, the medcentre was quiet from the daily hustle and bustle that had become your background noise. The space was lit via the blue screens that showed you everything you needed to know about your patient and how he was doing.

Gently you took his limp hand, wrapping his large fingers around your own and imagining him giving it a squeeze. You could feel how hot he was, but he wasn’t as blazing with a fever as he was a few days ago, it was slowly retreating. Just not quick enough for your liking.

You had kept him in a coma, the life support machine a constant noise in his room and probably the only thing that kept you tethered to this reality. But the fever had dipped and he didn’t need to be in an induced coma anymore, so you could move him to the bacta tank.

He needed to wake up though. Perching your hip on his bed your eyes travelled over all the things that belonged to Tech; his goggles, his tools, his belt hung off the chair, his pack and helmet sat in the corner with the rest of his armour. Hunter had got him a new body suit and armour padding which you’d folded up nicely and stacked next to his pack.

It wasn’t right. None of this was. You squeezed his slack hand and wiped some stray tears off your cheek. You had been walking a fine line before this had happened and now it felt like a tightrope; taught under your feet, cutting into your soles with each step. Your balance was slipping, dragging you one way and then the other, neither ending promising to be happy.

Absently you played with his fingers, putting them against your own and comparing sizes. You loved Tech’s hands, knowing how nimble and sure they were with everything he did; whether it be adjusting the fine circuits in a droid or tapping away on his datapad. You missed hearing his voice, the random facts he loved to share and the calming effect he had on you.

“You know,” your voice cracked from lack of use. “Omega said you need a shave.” She wasn’t wrong, his stubble was growing, casting a dark shadow over his face. “I’ll ask Hunter tomorrow because he needs one too. He’s so worried about you, they’re all worried about you.” You glanced up at him, watching the forced breath in his chest as the life support machine did its job, wishing the life you saw wasn’t artificial. “I wish you’d come back,” you whispered, sucking your lips into your mouth to stop them trembling and looking up at the wall. “I miss you, Tech. No one sees me like you do and I…I need you.”

You searched his expression for a sign, a flicker, anything but got nothing. You fixed your gaze on the screen, noticing his brain activity was still there, the EEG was reading a positive output.

Closing your eyes, you dipped into that well of yourself you’d been avoiding, the one that felt like infinity was at your fingertips. It stretched and flowed, taunting and calling you to fall into it once again. You wouldn’t ever forget the rush it gave you, the exhilaration that this power offered but it scared you senseless. You didn’t consciously know what you were doing with it. It was like someone handing you a fathier and telling you to ride it when you’d never seen one before.

And yet, you delved into it now. It had always been there, slipping into your instincts without you even knowing what was happening. Surging through your hands when you needed it to save someone…anyone but yourself.

Putting your hand over Tech’s you closed your eyes and breathed. You remembered that moment in the Marauder with the Purrgil, the lights that shimmered over you both, Tech’s closeness and his excitement at finally seeing something that fascinated him so much.

You got lost in the muted rhythm of his body, the flow of his blood, the knock of his heart and the billow of his lungs. It was calming, as though you were communicating with him in the only way you knew how.

You put his hand down, withdrawing completely and making your way over to your cot. A sigh was pushed from your body as you looked at the ceiling, drifting a hand over your tired eyes.

Maybe tomorrow would be the day he wakes up.

When you woke, the first thing you sensed was someone else was in the room. Slowly you opened your eyes to find Hunter slumped in the chair beside his brother, chin in the palm of his hand as he dozed. Quietly you got up but it wasn’t quiet enough, his eyes snapped open and you froze.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t asleep.” You checked the monitors, seeing there was no change in Tech’s condition and disappointment filled your chest. So you did the only thing you could do and go through the motions.

“Hi Tech,” you said, forcing a cheery tone into the words. “Hunter is here to see you this morning…” you glanced at him for confirmation and he nodded. “Yes, morning.” You flicked the torch across his eyes, noting a consistent response from his pupils. “No doubt the others will be along later. Echo has been trying fix Beetoo’s charging problems but he can’t find anything in the diagnostic.” Turning the bottom of the cover you exposed Tech’s feet and ran a finger along the sole of his foot, pleased with the toe movement as you did. “Nerves are healing nicely,” you murmured.

“Stitch…” in one word Hunter had asked a thousand questions that had all been asked before.

“We could try today.”

“Yeah?” You caught the look of hope on his face, split between the light and dark of his tattoo and it tugged at your tired heart.

“He needs to wake up so we can get him in the tank. Don’t tell the others.” His gaze dipped, the fall of his mouth spoke disappointment, nonetheless he nodded in agreement.

“They’re taking Omega on a supply run today anyway.”

“If you want to join them I can let you know how it goes?” But Hunter shook his head, eyes on his brother’s prone body as he leaned back in the chair.

“I want to be here when he wakes up.” You couldn’t argue with that.

You let Tesama and Beetoo know you were going to be totally unavailable today and sealed yourself in the room with Hunter and Tech. You turned down the sedation drug and settled yourself in for a wait. These things took time and you were prepared for the wait. Still, you couldn’t just sit, so you walked slowly round the room with your datapad; catching up on the reports and payments from the last few days.

Hunter sat quietly in the chair, his eyes tracking your movement while his fingers toyed with his knife. You heard the movement, the quiet scrape when he unsheathed it and the slight sing in the air as he twirled it amongst his fingers, never dropping it. It was distracting and you could feel yourself getting annoyed, so the next time you walked past him you plucked it easily from his grip.

His hand was still held up in surprise at your swift movement, brown eyes falling on the blade that was now caught between two of your fingers. “Now where did you learn to do that?” His gravelly voice laced with curiosity.

“I can hear it…whistling. If you need to fidget I could find you something to do.” You held out the hilt for him to take and he slipped back into his vambrace with a well practised move.

“We haven’t started your training,” he mused. “That would keep us both entertained.”

“Nice try. Not in here.” He hummed and slumped back in the seat with his arms crossed.

“We could talk. Shouldn’t Tech hear us?” You nodded, your gaze once again on the datapad.

“Ok, how is Omega after the last mission?” You waited for a response but the silence continued on too long and you glanced up to see him frowning at his knees. “That bad, huh?”

“She won’t talk to us,” he admitted.

“She’s been through and seen a lot,” you told him as you carried on your slow walk round the room. “I can try if you’d like?”

“You can try.” The monitor beeped and you stepped up to the bed, pulling the screen to face you.

“He’s waking up! Move!” You’d never snapped at Hunter before and he rose up, dragging the chair at the same time to get out of your way.

You worked on pulling out Tech’s ventilation tube, easing it from his throat and setting it to the side. The alarms rang, such a high pitched whining noise and you felt Hunter approach. Tech choked, his throat had been held open all this time, his body had forgotten how to breathe on its own, he needed to relearn. And fast.

Hunter was behind you, his eyes trained on the screen over your shoulder. You could sense his apprehension, the tightening in his chest at the flatline that traveled across the screen but amidst all that, was trust. He was standing here, not saying a word while his brother seemingly died before his eyes because he trusted you.

At the first faint bleep you both let out a sigh of relief. His vitals began to rise and his chest expanded on its own. Your laugh was almost hysterical, you were on the verge of exploding into action to save this clones life and now you didn’t need to.

Your laughs quickly became sobs as you gripped Tech’s hand. The tension you’d felt since they came home had come to a head and you were letting it out in the only way you knew how.

“He’s going to be ok,” Hunter murmured, his fingers reaching for you in the vain hope you’d let him comfort you.

“I’m e-exhausted,” you managed to get out between the shuddering breaths, moving out of his reach. “I’m not done yet.” Pulling yourself together you coughed, wiping your face and blinking your eyes wide. “He needs to be monitored, he’s still on the painkillers but he’s—he’s breathing on his own. Good heartbeat, brain activity…” you bent over Tech and shone the torch in his eyes, pleased to see a reaction and some resistance to your touch. “Talk to him.” Your voice was still too watery, you didn’t want Tech to wake up seeing you a complete mess.

“Tech? It’s Hunter.” He seemed lost for something else to say and shrugged a little when you looked up at him.

“Talk about the weather, what the time is, where the others are.”

“Right. Well Echo is sick of maintaining the ship by himself. Omega is bored and has memorised everything you’ve given her so far, Wrecker dropped Gonky the other day when he was lifting him. Now the droid is more defective than ever.” Taking a deep breath you swiped at your face, tugging on the tunic you’d worn for, you don’t know how long, and stepped up beside the bed.

“Tech. It’s Stitch.” You saw some activity on his face, a little frown followed by the lightest groan. “Can you squeeze my hand?” You gripped him firmly and waited. Then it came, the flex of his fingers and you nearly cried again. “Good.”

“Yeah?”

“Means he can hear us and he has cognitive function,” you told Hunter. “Which is good, very good.”

“Tech, brother…” for the first time you heard the worry come through in Hunter’s words as he dipped his head. “You had us worried.” As he continued to talk in a low voice you backed against the wall. Using the corner to wedge in like you used to do with Gonky on the ship, squeezing yourself in there tightly and dropping so you could hug your knees close.

More tears fell, you managed to hold back the sobs, just letting the moisture cascade down your face as you listened to Hunter talk to his brother.

“Stitch, his eyes. He opened his eyes.” Thank the Maker.

“That’s good. That’s really good.” Hunter stood up and looked at you over the bed, understanding filling his gaze as soon as he saw you on the floor.

Your heart jumped when a sound came from the bed, a hard groan of someone waking up after a very long sleep. You clocked the movement of his foot, the sharp inhale when he stretched for the first time in days and the flick of his fingers.

“Hunter…” he recognised Hunter. Another thing checked off the list. “I can’t see.” If you weren’t so emotionally ripped up you probably would have laughed. Tech’s immediate reaction was he couldn’t see without his goggles was such a Tech thing, it made you hug yourself tighter.

You watched as Hunter put them on for him, carefully adjusting them so they were just right on his brothers face and sitting the bed up slightly.

“My leg…” Tech moaned.

“Easy now, Tech.” Now you had to move, hoping your face didn’t betray the fact you’d been crying as you wiped it clear of tears. You couldn’t look at him, even as you stood on his injured side with Hunter just behind your shoulder. You took your time updating his records, his eyes tracking your movement as you clicked on the screen and added the details to your datapad. Hinter have him some water and you noted his breathing was a little rushed, he felt apprehensive and you could feel his burning need to know how he was.

“Do you want to know what happened?” You asked quietly, watching his hand fidget with the blanket.

“Yes.” You hesitated, allowing yourself a moment to fall behind your medic mask before you flipped a section of the blanket back to reveal the leg you’d operated on.

“You sustained extensive damage to the break, it was a closed fracture on the femoral shaft that needed to be reduced and fixed in place with metal rods and bolts. When they finally got you to me I had cut open your leg and relieve the hematoma, Hunter and Wrecker both gave you blood at the time as the loss was…a lot.” Your fingers clenched, still the sticky residue tortured your senses. “I managed to reattach blood vessels and nerves and you should regain the full use of your leg. Recovery will be long.” Now you glanced up, to see a grim expression on his face, one that told you he understood everything you’d said and what it meant. “We need to strengthen your muscle, and we’re looking at you being here at minimum, 4 to 5 months.” Hunter puffed out breath, scratching at the stubble on his cheek as he let your words sink in.

“I’m not sure Tech can sit still for that long.”

“Only at first and then I don’t see why he can’t fly the ship for easy missions,” you stressed, pushing a finger into Hunters chestplate before moving away. “I’ll get the tank set up and bring it in.”

Tech had installed repulsors on the tank so you were able to move it on your own. Once you’d set the programme you left Hunter to help Tech get into the tank. You’d picked up on his nervous energy and the way he kept glancing at you out the corner of his eyes, so you suggested you take a break and Hunter agreed.

Your room felt alien. It had only been a few days but it no longer felt familiar and you tried not to dwell on it stepping straight into the refresher. Letting the hot water cascade over your body you tried to empty your mind but all you could think about was Tech’s rehabilitation plan.

You weren’t done yet.

Very quickly your private patient room became Tech’s bedroom. He was building himself a leg brace and you didn’t have it in you to tell him no. It did him good to still use his hands, exercise his mind and it kept him busy.

It was time for his submersion into the tank. He went in every morning for a couple of hours and then you did your obs and checked on his leg. Routine, you always did it in the same order so he didn’t have surprises. Even now you were stood outside his room, waiting for the time to tick over the last minute.

It concerned you how much his body reacted your presence, you put it down to nerves about going in the tank. You had to touch him, help him and you wouldn’t have found it comfortable if you were in his position.

The door opened and you breezed in finding him sat on the edge of the bed as he waited for you. Instantly you noticed the way his hand jerked away from his thigh, planting on the bed and fisting on the covers as he glared at the wall. He was stripped down, ready for immersion into the bacta.

“Good morning,” you said, eyeing the screen beside his bed. No temp, good heart rhythm, nothing worrying at all. “Are you ready?” You pressed the buttons on the tank, turning to glance at him over your shoulder.

“Yes,” he replied stiffly. As you approached the monitor beeped to alert you to a change in his heartbeat and he stared at it like it had betrayed him. “I am still not accustomed to being touched in such a way.”

“I am just your medic, Tech.”

“You are more to me than just a medic.” Oh.

“I can get Tesama…”

“No. I would rather it was you.” You weren’t sure what to do with what he’d just told you. Putting down the datapad you relied on all you had left, routine. Slipping your arm around his bare body, feeling his arm over your shoulder as you wrapped your fingers against the curve of his side and you felt his inhale; desperately trying not to flinch away from you.

He hopped on one leg, grimacing as he did, little grunts of pain falling from between his clenched teeth until he slipped into the warm bacta. His relief was palpable when you stopped touching him, going to retrieve his breathing mask.

“Two hours and I’ll be back.” He nodded, handing you his goggles, eyes going wide as his vision deteriorated instantly. You wanted to comfort him, seeing the way his hands were moving in the fluid as he tried to find something to fiddle with. “Oh!” He glanced at you watching as you fished around in the pocket of your tunic and pulled out a puzzle box. “Omega found this on a supply run and she asked me to give it to you but I kept forgetting. It should keep you busy in the tank.” You tapped the screen. “I see you don’t sleep.”

“I find it hard to make my brain relax in such an environment. My mental knowledge, regretfully, only stretches so far and I have recounted everything I know at least 10 times already.” His fingers flexed, grateful to have something to do.

“Let’s get this on,” you encouraged gently. His eyes went even wide as you leaned in, settling the mask in place and pressurising it to his face with a soft hiss. “Two hours.”

As you were closing his door Tesama peered round the corner. She looked slightly concerned and you tilted your head. “Out with it.”

“Well, there’s another one of those clones here. He won’t let me near him, demanding you.”

“Which one?” You asked checking the readings from Tech’s tank one final time before heading to the bays.

“He says his name is Echo.” Your steps hurried. Echo hardly ever came in here and he was the one who if anything went wrong, it could be catastrophic. “He’s in your office.” She dropped away as you entered, seeing Echo on the bench in your office. He seemed all in one piece, just a scowl adoring his brow, his sense of agitation was making your skin tingle and you gently put the datapad down.

“Echo.” He flinched at the sound of your voice. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s…” the scowl deepened and he looked away from you. The feeling from him changed subtly and that’s when you discovered, he was embarrassed.

“Take your time,” you said gently. “I know this must be difficult for you.” He huffed, his pale gold eyes finally shifting in your direction.

“I feel like a di’kut.” You sat in the chair, turning it round to face him as you waited for an explanation. You could sense he was in good health, the rhythm of his blood was steady, the sense of his aura was strong and not flickering. “I have sand,” he blurted out.

“Sand?” You queried, that was the last thing you’d excepted.

“Sand. In places I don’t want sand.” It took you a few moments to understand what he was saying and you looked down at his scomp. He tried to spin it only for it to get stuck after a couple of rotations.

“Anywhere else?” He gestured with his hand, encompassing his back and legs.

“I can feel it in all the—sockets. I didn’t know where else to go,” he confessed quietly, a blush rising on his pale cheeks.

“Stay here.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” he grumpily mumbled, crossing his arms. You went outside and collared Beetoo.

“If you had sand in your joints would an oil bath get rid of it?” You asked her quietly.

“For a droid, an oil bath is the best form of ridding debris.”

“Thanks Bee.” You busied yourself in the storage room, trying to find a container that would hold enough oil for Echo to bathe his legs. Finally you found one, activating the portable repulsers so you could drift it back to your office once you filled it up. You also grabbed a load of brushes and other tools not really sure how you were going to get the rest of the sand out of him.

He eyed you suspiciously when you guided the small tank in, scowling so deeply you wondered if the lines were going to become permanent.

“What’s all this?”

“You asked for my help,” you stated. He leaned back on one leg as you moved the bench away from the wall and putting it in the middle of the room. The repulsers switched off and you adjusted it all to where you thought it should be. “Ok. Strip off.”

“Strip?!” He looked so shocked you nearly giggled.

“Echo. I need to access the ports so I can clean them out. You need to immerse your legs in the oil and your scomp. It’s going to be uncomfortable but there is no other way.” You understood his hesitation, he hated anything thing like this and you were demanding he bare all the things he hated about himself to you. To be touched, meddled with, to be explored in ways he never wanted to again.

“This is the only way?”

“I’m afraid so. If you don’t want me to do it I could ask Beetoo…”

“No!” His hand and scomp went up, his pulse throbbed and you stopped talking. “No droids.”

“Let me know when you’re ready and we can begin.” You picked up the datapad, turning your body away so weren’t watching him. You checked on Tech, happy to see his numbers were more relaxed this time, the puzzle box clearly helping him settle. You heard Echo remove his kama, the utility belt dropping and the griptions loosening as he shed his armour. He looked hopefully at you but you gave him a slow shake of your head, you needed his padding off and he knew it. The sigh was resigned, if you could have seen it you were sure it would have been like a durasteel weight leaving him but he began to take it off anyway.

“Now what?” His voice wavered slightly and you made your face expressionless. You’d never seen Echo so bare before and the true nature of his remaking became apparent. It was barbaric. If only you’d been there when he’d been freed…the devastation would have been less.

“Step into the tank, and sit down. I will warn you about any moves I make and if anything feels uncomfortable or wrong, please tell me.” He gave you a curt nod. His eyes were dull, trying to hide his discomfort but it was coming off of him in suffocating waves. As soon as he was settled you approached him some tools and you saw him recoil a little. “I’m going to work on your scomp first, then we can bathe that too. Ok?”

“Mmhmm.” You were gentle as you reached for him. Echo turned his face away, closing his eyes as tremors of apprehension rippled through his feelings, the worry that you would be repulsed from him followed by surprise when you didn’t flinch.

You ran a practised eye over his cybernetics, seeing where the problems were and you got to work on trying to dig out the grains. It was gruelling, and you stayed tapped into his feelings as you worked; making sure you weren’t hurting him. Sand worked free from some of the mechanism and you asked him to spin it, seeing the movement was much freer. You asked him to submerge the scomp in the oil before moving round behind him.

His entire back tensed as you looked at what had been done to him. Black sockets ran down his spine and you felt a wave of rage that someone thought they had the right to do this to another living thing.

“Are you ok with me touching you, Echo? I need to brush these out.”

“Got no choice,” he muttered gruffly. “Just do it.” He was hunched over, holding his head in his hands as you started. The brush did wonders for dislodging the looser grains, hearing it hiss free was so satisfactory.

“I’m going to blow, on it,” you warned him quietly.

“Mmm.” His entire body tensed, muscles bulging as you carefully blew across his skin and swept away any stray grains before moving onto the next socket. By the time you’d reached the back of his neck your arms were protesting but you needed to finish. In this time he had relaxed, arm lowered and his face not so tortured as he got used to the contact. Still you communicated with him, letting him know everything you were doing in a calming voice that he listened to. His feelings settled, they weren’t so volatile anymore and you raised an eyebrow when you blew across his pale skin, sensing a change in his demeanour.

“Was that ok?” You asked. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” He refused to elaborate with a jut of his chin, fixing his glare on the wall so you decided not to probe any further. Tenderly you dusted your fingers over the spread of his shoulders, noticing the hitch his breath as you did.

“I’ve done what I can, a quick shower should rid you of any stray bits. Let’s check your scomp.” He lifted it free of the oil and you wiped it clean. Echo gave it a spin, his face breaking out in a hopeful smile as it moved without hindrance. “Standup, legs next.” He leaned on you, his hand clutching at yours as you took some of his weight until he was free of the oil bath. You went to wipe down his legs but he grabbed the cloth, making you look up at him.

“I-I can do it.” He refused to look at your face, the telltale blush once again rising on his cheeks and you backed up. Turning round you grabbed the datapad.

“Echo, I need to get Tech out of the tank.”

“I’ll be ok,” he told you a sense of relief injecting into his words.

“Be back in a bit. Then you can visit him.” From one clone who didn’t like being touched to another who panicked when you entered the room. Tech had already opened the top of the tank and was sitting up as he waited for you. “I’m sorry! Echo came in with an issue.”

“Echo? What is the issue?” You grabbed a towel, letting Tech lean on you as the bacta dropped off his chiselled body. Quickly you wrapped him up, stopping him from shivering as you ran your hand up and down his arms. “Stitch?”

“Oh,” your thoughts dissipated and you looked up him, seeing the way his gaze dilated when your eyes locked for a second before he broke the connection. “Yeah, Echo is ok. He said he’ll come and visit you when you’re ready.” Tech hobbled over to the bed with your help, the pain much less this time. “Do you want me to towel dry your hair?”

“Yes.” You didn’t think much of it as you reached for a smaller towel, but when you started your senses heightened. He smelled like the bacta, fresh and healing; the heat of his body came through the material and you slowed your hands to really make sure his rich chestnut locks were dry. You tapped into his feelings, noticing the way his heart rate was accelerating once again. It made you sad that he was so anxious from your touch even though you understood. Most of the time you couldn’t bare the idea but here, now, with Tech; you wanted nothing more than to feel him.

It hurt. Withdrawing yourself you quickly finished, absently drawing your fingers through his hair. Even damp you appreciated the softness of it, catching the stray stands and nudging them back to how he liked it. The colour was glorious, almost fiery in some lights, a deep rich hue in others. In all lights he shone for you. The rush of emotion you felt for him almost caught you off guard, sweeping around you like a soft embrace and you worked quickly to untangle yourself from it.

So wrapped up in what you thought were your own emotions you missed the way Tech’s eyes widened dramatically at the feel of your fingers in his hair as he looked at his covered knees. “There. That’s the best I can do.” You announced, stepping back. You rolled the wet towel up and placed his clothes and goggles on the bed next to him. You were about open the door when he called your name.

“Hmm?” He looked a little flustered, his eyes darting about as he adjusted his goggles with his graceful fingers and you fixated on the motion.

“I appreciate…you. You are good at your job.” You hitched up a smile but it didn’t reach your eyes.

“It helps you’re such an easy patient. Get dressed and then you can catch up with Echo.” The door opened and then slid closed behind you.

Ducking into your room for a moment you closed your eyes and let out a shaky breath. You had no idea why Tech’s words had made your stomach twist back on itself; maybe because you hoped he was going to say something else? It was ridiculous really, no one could force someone to have feelings and his clearly didn’t reach the level that yours did.

[void-ink-studios]

Unusual Featers

Have some original writing that I submitted to a magazine, as I lie here trying to recover from a sinus infection.

Enjoy y'all.

Word Count: 4,100

How closely do you pay attention to the “people” that surround you? Do you know how many times you’ve passed by Something and just didn’t notice It?

Would you even spare a glance if you walked past something with eyes just a bit too big, or smiled with too many teeth? Do you think you’d notice if a voice reached your ears just a fraction of a second after their lips finished moving, or if their footsteps left no tracks and made no sounds? What if someone’s reflection was ever so slightly delayed, or they didn’t cast a shadow?

It’s something I’ve been thinking about for most of my life, ever since I first started to notice Them.

I want to say it just… started happening one day. That, once upon a time, my life was normal, and then it suddenly wasn’t. Starting this story like it was normal might give you the wrong impression, that this story might end neatly, with a nice bow on top. But normalcy was never a luxury they afforded me.

Every day, I wake up and hope to whatever god may be out there that they’d give me a break, for just one day. And every day, I’m punished for it.

All my life, I’ve noticed things. My crime was that I tried to point them out.

I first noticed there was something that stood in the linen closet in my childhood home, just barely hiding its form in the shadows cast by the slats in the door. It liked to use my parent’s voice, calling to me.

Then it was the eyes and mouths in the bright flowers outside my school, hidden amongst the pink and red petals, watching me, whispering. Their gaze always followed me, either unblinking, or blinking sideways.

Then it was the invisible man who hid in the church bathroom, who I could barely see in the mirror glass. He liked to touch me on the back of my neck and shoulders, I could feel the calluses on his fingertips, ones used to the rough wood of the ceiling beams high above the pews.

I don’t think they wanted to be noticed. I don’t know if they really understood I couldn’t help it, not when they kept watching, calling, touching me. I sometimes think back and wonder if I had just let them then… maybe they wouldn’t feel the need to punish me.

The thing in the linen closet’s words became a lot harsher when I begged my mom to look. The flower’s gaze became much more piercing when I ripped a bouquet of them up to show a teacher. The man in the bathroom’s grip was a lot tighter when I tried to tell the preacher.

No one else seemed to notice them.

I remember seeing a lot of doctors. I remember my mother asking where she went wrong and my father shaking his head mumbling how I wasn’t right. I remember being handed pills, lots of pills, pills of so many colors and sizes. And the doctors would ask me the same question.

“Sam, do you still ‘notice’ things?”

I was honest, at first, when the doctor had a kind smile and a gentle voice.

“Of course I do. But they don’t like it when I talk to people about them.” I wrung my hands together. I could see the bugs crawling in the doctor’s hair.

She gave me a sad smile.

“Sam, we can’t help you get better if you don’t talk about them. Don’t you want to get better? You have to try for me.”

I looked anywhere but at her. Anywhere but the bugs with human eyes on their backs.

“Sam. Look at me.”

I shook my head.

“Sam. Now.”

I never liked it when her voice dropped to that tone. “Please, no…”

“Sam, why can’t you look at me?”

“Because I don’t want to look at the bugs crawling in your hair!”

The doctor said she couldn’t help me anymore. I didn’t want to get better, apparently. The new doctor didn’t smile, and he wouldn’t look up from his clipboard as he kept asking me the same questions. He yelled a lot more. Gave me more pills.

The pills made me feel sick. They told me they were supposed to make me stop noticing things. But, I still saw them, standing at the foot of my bed, or watching me from the doorway.  Laughing at me.

The pills would work eventually, if I just wanted to be better hard enough. I wasn’t trying hard enough, although I’m not sure how I was meant to try and not see.  That’s what they told me, anyway.

“Sam, do you still ‘notice’ things?”

“...No sir.”

I stuck to the pills that made me the least sick, and just tried to keep the doctor happy.

Things almost felt normal after that. Take the pill, lie to the doctor, smile at my parents, and live. I made friends. I started to write, never about them though. Not when they moved to the shadowy corner of my room, daring me to do something about it. I’m not even sure if they ever forgave me in the first place, now that they knew I was looking back.  At some point they just became part of my nightly routine, unmoving, unblinking.

I thought I had left them behind when I finally moved away. A newspaper in the nearby city decided they liked my style, and bought me a one way train ticket. I thought- hoped- I had finally escaped. They could stay in my house, in the church, among the corn fields. And I’d be too far away to notice them. Win-win, right?

I don’t know why I thought I’d ever get to be that lucky.

Everything was fine at first. I finally got to stop taking the pills. It was the first thing I did when I moved in, dumping those awful pills down the sink. This was my new start, in a new job, in a new city, where I was just Sam, the Business and Economy editor. The only thing I noticed were typos and formatting errors that Mindy would make on her articles. The streets were busy, alive, but none of it was looking at me. It was perfect.

Until one of them walked past me.

It was on one of those busy city roads, where the people were packed together and walking past each other like ants. I felt occasional brushes of fingers and shoulders, but none of the eyes on me. The sky smelled wet, heavy with rain, with cigarette smoke wafting in the air from the alley. The rhythm of the streets had become a soothing background song, one I much preferred to the still silence of home.

The thing that walked past me was slouched. It tucked itself away in a ratty old coat, a wool hat pulled as far down its head as possible, but the wind made that tricky. I had looked up, on a chance, to see the hat swept away in the breeze. I had only just managed to catch it, waving it over my head like a flag as the figure seemed content with going on without it.

“Sir! Sir, your hat!”

It stopped. It turned its head toward me, tilting slightly. My bones ached for a moment as it slowly walked up to me, taking its hat back.

Our eyes locked. It turned its head, smiled, and then went on its way.

It was the smile. It was too wide. I know some people smile with their cheeks, they use all the space on their face. But that wasn’t what this was. Its smile stretched past what I was pretty sure was possible. Past its cheeks, the corners of the mouth encroaching near its eyes. And there was nothing behind the grin. Nothing at all.

I stopped, watching it walk away, amongst everyone. And no one noticed it. It got to slink around the corner, and vanish, and no one else noticed it.

I’m not sure how long I stood there, looking at the street corner it disappeared behind. I think a few people cursed at me as they shoved past. I felt my legs threaten to buckle.

I retreated into an alley. I could hear the blood rushing through my ears, my heart thudding in my chest and rattling my skull. I gripped my sweater, knuckles turning white.

I tried to think. Recall what the doctors liked to say.

“What you’re seeing is just your brain projecting the delusions onto the real. They’re not real. They don’t exist.”

“They’re not real. They don’t exist. They’re not real. They don’t exist.”

I tried to see the reason. Maybe the light just cast strange shadows on the face to make the smile look larger? Maybe the man just had one of those strange faces that had a bit wider a mouth and I just overreacted.

I breathed. In. Out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Count the seconds between breaths.

I pushed myself off the alley wall. I looked up and down the street, at the people passing by. No one noticed me looking, no one looked back, aside from the strange looks a smoker gave me when I came flying in.

I paid him no mind. I dusted myself off, feeling my heart in my chest settle.

“They’re not real. They don’t exist.”

I didn’t need to spend any longer dealing with my own nonsense. I probably had a stack of papers to edit by now, no time to spare. I seamlessly rejoined the march of the sidewalk. I was safe in the crowd.

I was safe.

It was almost two weeks before I saw another one, this time in a grocery store. It wasn’t a particularly nice one, the floor was sticky and the lights gave off an annoying buzz. But it was familiar to me now. It all just melted into the background as I lazily trailed up and down the aisles, humming nonsense.

It looked like a woman this time, in a pretty little flower dress. It reminded me of a girl I once knew in college, one that made smiling easy and my chest relax. It was looking at something on the top shelf, a bag of chips.

I’m decently tall, why not be polite?

“Need any help, Miss?”

It jumped a little, turning its head to look at me. It recovered quickly, and smiled a perfectly average smile. Then it reached up.

It didn’t break eye contact with me as its arm extended about a foot too long to grab the brightly colored bag. It just kept smiling. It returned its arm to its side, perfectly even with the other as it turned a corner and disappeared into another aisle.

I went home immediately after that. I had considered abandoning my cart and running home, but I wasn’t going to let it see me panic. I didn’t see it again, either in another aisle or even in check out.

“They’re not real. They don’t exist. They’re not real. They don’t exist.”

I tried to reason again, but it was harder this time. Maybe I… just misjudged her height? Maybe she was taller than I thought and she was perfectly capable of reaching things for herself?

That didn’t explain the eye contact. The little smile. The knowing smile. Was she just telling me to go away, in her own, creepy way?

I didn’t know. The explanation didn’t sit well in my belly when I went to bed that night. I ordered a new prescription of pills the very next morning. I dreaded the return of the head fog and nausea, but at least it would help me stop noticing them, right? I think I knew I was lying to myself the second I called the pharmacy.  They told me it’d be ready the next day.  I told them that would be perfect.

I had hoped they’d give me the courtesy of waiting a few more days before appearing again.

I didn’t even get 24 hours.

It was my day off, I just wanted to walk in the park. There was a little section off the hiking path, a spot along a creek, under a shady tree with a bird house. It was my little place to relax. My spot to listen to the birds and the creek, and trace my fingers against the shadows cast to the grass.

There was something in my place that day.

I hesitated for a moment. Then I remembered the pills and breathed a small sigh. I didn’t mind sharing the little section of the creek, it’s not like I owned the park. I gave a polite smile as I sat down with my lunch.

“Beautiful day today, yeah?”

It seemed a little startled by my voice, jumping just a little. It turned to look at me, smiling, shrugging its shoulders. It wouldn’t have looked too out of place in the writer’s room at my office. Smart suit, nice shoes, expensive looking watch, hair thinning on the top. I idly wondered if I had edited anything for him.

It stood and stared at me for a few moments. Waiting for something. I’m not sure what it wanted, and I didn’t figure it out before it left.

My place at the creek was shady. The tree provided a nice shelter from the hot sun. But the day was bright and clear, not a cloud in the sky.

So then why didn’t the thing that walked away cast a shadow?

It was hard to notice when it stood under the tree, the shadows laced together in a chaotic web. But it didn’t cast a shadow, even in broad daylight. I even checked, after it left, I looked at my shadow stretched across the grass.

It didn’t cast a shadow.

“They’re not real.”

I cast a shadow, and I stood in the exact same spot.

“They don’t exist.”

There were no clouds in the sky.

“They’re not real.”

There was no reason it shouldn’t cast a shadow.

“They don’t… exist…”

I felt the words die in my throat the more I said them. I went home, prescription in hands, and I took two pills.  I curled under my bed covers as I felt the fog settle over my mind.

I didn’t sleep, I couldn’t, not when I could feel one of them watching me from my window.

I didn’t turn over to look at it. That’d just make it angrier. I tried not to writhe as I felt the gaze tracing my body up and down, examining every detail, despite my attempts to hide under the covers. I heard it laugh.

They vanished for a few days after that. I still felt the eyes through my bedroom window, but if I kept my back to that wall, I could at least pretend it wasn’t there.

Things were quiet for nearly a week. Nearly one, merciful week.  Maybe the pills had finally worked.

It was the sixth day after my observer first appeared that I saw more than one in a day.

I had stopped being polite in hopes I wouldn’t encounter any more of them. I didn’t speak to people, certainly didn’t maintain eye contact for longer than brief moments. I hadn’t expected them to approach me.

It was a simple tap on my shoulder. I was waiting for my bus, hunched over the bench, when a finger tapped on my shoulder.

I looked up. And there was nothing looking back at me.

Its eyes swallowed the light around us. I could see my own reflection in the round black mirrors, ones just a bit too large for its head.

It smiled at me, and I lurched up and out of my seat.

I looked around. There were people sitting next to me, one man smoking a cigarette. They all stared at me. Not the thing with pieces of black glass in place of eyeballs. At me.

I looked at it. It just kept smiling.

“...Kid, are you okay?”

I whirled around, facing the man with the cigarette. He had this flat, stern look to his face, one that reminded me of an annoyed principal. But I could at least tell he was human.

I looked at the thing behind the bench.

“D-Do you… notice anything… weird? Anything about her?”

I hated the warble in my voice. The pitiful little trip up, it made me feel tiny. It felt like I was back to the wriggling. The man raised an eyebrow at me, flicking his gaze between it and me.  His face made a disapproving scowl, one I flinched under.

“That ain’t a polite thing to say about a lady, son.  Mind your business.”

The thing looking at me just kept smiling.

“...I… I guess not…  I’m sorry…”

The second one didn’t approach me, but it didn’t have to. I noticed it, from a mile away. It was waiting for me. It just smiled, just like the others and waved. Waved at me with fingers too long, bent at impossible angles, before disappearing into the crowd, just like the first I saw all those weeks ago.

They were getting bolder, I knew they were.

My nighttime observer had friends now, apparently. I heard them crunching the leaves outside my house as they walked around. But one was always posted by my window. Always a set of eyes on me.

I paced around my house for hours, locking and unlocking and relocking the windows. Pulling them, pushing them, tapping on the glass. Just to be sure.

Just to be sure.

I could hear them messing with the windows. The small clunk as they tried and failed to open them. They’re waiting for me to mess up. My pacing was at least not for nothing.

I saw them everywhere.

On the streets, following me home.

At my favorite take out restaurant, trying to slip something into my food.

At my workplace, trying to get me fired.

They’re everywhere. Watching. Smiling. Laughing. Laughing at me.

I finally called the police when I heard one of them scraping at my front door. I had had enough. They were getting too bold, too sure that they had me cornered, like a pitiful little injured animal.

I nearly cried when they didn’t find anything. No evidence of anyone being near my home. Not even foot prints. But I could see them. Watching me, through the tree line, I could see them. I could see them smiling.

I begged the police to look again, to please look a little closer.  That I knew someone was there, watching me, trying to break in.

I didn’t mean to grab the policeman's arm.  But he made certain I knew that if I called again, it’d be me in handcuffs.

I was never one to think too much about guns. I knew my father owned one, one he used to hunt deer that tried to eat the corn. It was loud, it nearly broke my hand when he made me learn to shoot it. I didn’t think too much about it after I moved.

I thought myself silly for not thinking of it, now that I clutched a rifle in my hands as I huddled in my bedroom corner. I could hear them tapping on the windows.

My coworkers noticed my deteriorating state, I think. I was getting sloppy. Making mistakes. Snapping at people.

My boss, as well intentioned as she was, doomed me. Put me on mandatory vacation for a few days. “Just get some rest,” she said. “Mindy says you’ve been giving her weird looks all day.”

Mindy was one of them, I knew she was. I always thought her legs seemed to bend in the wrong direction.

I don’t remember what I said to her, only that I was told very firmly by security to leave before police were called. I don’t know why I wasn’t fired on the spot.

I barricaded my doors. I hadn’t moved from the bedroom in three days. I kept the gun clutched to my chest until my knuckles were white. I could hear them tapping. Never ending tapping.

My eyelids were so heavy. I was hungry. I hadn’t slept in days.

I was weak.

I was so very weak.

I don’t remember closing my eyes, but I must’ve at some point. I know that, because I opened them staring into something I couldn’t explain.

It was on my bed on top of me. It was vaguely human shaped, sitting on my chest, perched like a gargoyle. Its knees were tucked under its chin, its hands resting atop them. Its fingers danced like they were playing an invisible keyboard.

They had found a way in. I don’t know how, but they found a way in. 

I looked up into its face. Or, I tried at least.

I had the sensation that I was seeing something I absolutely should not have seen. The face of a divinity I don't worship, the smile of a devil I had never believed in. Trying to look at its face directly gave me a splitting migraine, my eyes diverting to one side or the other.

My eyes flicked around. They were all standing there. Still, like store mannequins, but smiling. Unblinking. Unmoving. But still smiling. There were dozens, all crammed into my room.

I tried to scream.

The thing on my chest snapped one of its hands to my mouth, the scream dying in my throat. Its body barely moved at the sudden motion.  It covered my mouth and nose, my eyes widening as it started to squeeze.

It tilted its head at me. Slowly, precisely, it brought its other hand to its smiling lips.

“Shhh.”

That was the last thing I noticed before the black spots overcame my vision.

I awoke the next morning, still on my bed. My room was empty, undisturbed. My barricade was still there. My gun was kicked across the room.

There was a feeling, deep down in my bones, that something was wrong. Deeply, fundamentally wrong. My skin wasn’t mine anymore, my teeth had been replaced, my fingers had been plucked off and replaced by duplicates so precisely there weren’t scars.

I looked in the mirror. I searched for what was wrong, there had to be something wrong, I could feel it. Were my eyes a different, unsettling color? Did my teeth look too small? Something was wrong, I knew something was wrong, but my eyes refused to focus on it.

I needed air. Fresh air, despite everything.

I bundled myself in as many layers as I could, I tried to cover every inch of my warped flesh and face.

I took a walk. I didn’t know where to, I just needed to walk. I tried to keep my head down, draw as little attention to myself as I could.

But… As I walked, I noticed something. No one was looking at me. I nearly crashed into several people, and they acted like they hadn’t seen me.

Could they see me?

Was I… unnoticed?

I stood in the middle of the sidewalk. I tried to say hello. I waved, I yelled, I made an idiot of myself.

They all walked past me, looked through me, couldn’t hear me.

My mind reeled.

This was what I wanted, wasn’t it? To not be noticed? No one would notice what was wrong with me, no one would tell me to shut up or give me pills ever again.

I felt free.

For the first time in my life, I felt free to exist.. Was this what they all felt? Where were they, anyway? They had been following me for weeks, and now… nothing.

I haven’t seen any of them again, even after a month of me dancing through life. I waited for the other shoe to drop, there was no way my punishment was over, right? And yet… nothing.

I sat down and took a breath. I looked across the river, leaning against a tree.

And then I saw him. Or, more accurately, he saw me.

He stared. He looked horrified.

He saw me. He noticed me.

I don’t know what he saw. Something on me, something about me, I didn’t know and it didn’t matter. Because he saw something.

He noticed things too.

No. No, I was not going back to this, not after a taste of freedom. I didn’t want to be noticed again. I refused to be noticed again.

I don’t know how long I followed him. But I saw him disappear into a house. Perfect.

I knew where to find him later.

[hypnotisedfireflies]

Second half to Maria needing Tess/Joel to ask real nice??

I have deliberately kept this extremely short because we know how this stuff gets away from me, right? So this came forth in a flurry while I was working.

Part One is here.

Jackson, post-canon, 2025 probably, part of Driftersverse.

The door to the basement opened.

Maria didn’t know what she was expecting.  Blood splatter, heavy breathing, eyes dark with violence.  But Tess and Joel entered with strident calm.  There was not a speck of gore on them – and Maria was looking, she was looking for it.  She shot to her feet and wiped her damp palms on the sides of her jeans. 

“Where is he?”

“Hoback,” answered Tess, her gaze steady.  “Along the Dog Creek trail, they’ve got themselves a little camp.  But they came through Idaho – settlement fell with the infected migration.”

Maria’s nails dug into her palms.  They could’ve come from Mars for all she cared.  “You wasted time down there asking where they came from?  You think I care about that?  Dog Creek, you say.  Thanks.”

Lachie sidestepped into her path, holding up one hand.  She blinked at him in surprise.  That was the thing about Lachie:  once he stopped talking, you could completely forget he was there.  He had a way of melting into the surrounds, watchful and silent, and then placing himself exactly where he needed to be.  He played the idiot most of the time and Maria had made some flippant comment about that to Tommy once, questioning how somebody like that had made it so long.  Tommy had just shook his head very slightly.  His eyes had that hollow quality that scared Maria sometimes.

“He ain’t what you think.”

Lachie nodded to Tess.  Reluctantly, Maria turned back to face the other two who, were still standing at the door.  She had lost control of the room.

“Okay,” Maria said, heart pounding and mind already plotting the course to Hoback.  “I’m listening.”

“This is just the forward party,” Tess steadily explained.  “They have more.  They know about Jackson and they are coming for Jackson.  By now, their scout will be almost back to the rest of their group in Idaho to inform them what’s gone down.”

“Where.  How far across the border?”

Tess inclined her head slightly.  “Haven’t got that far yet.”

Joel finally spoke.  “I’m riding out with you to get Tommy.  We take who we can spare and we go now, make it quick and quiet.  There’s only three of them got him in Hoback.”

Maria nodded quickly, relieved.  But her mind could not yet fully abandon Jackson, not with the information she had just received.  She noticed how Joel had phrased it:  I’m riding out.  Not we’re riding out, I’m.

“You’re not coming,” she said, looking to Tess.

“I’m not finished,” Tess replied, and Maria felt a little chill work its way down her spine.  Tess’s gaze passed her and settled on Lachie.  “I need you.”

Lachie stepped around Maria, slow now, preparing himself.  “Righto.”

Joel placed his hand on Lachie’s chest as the man drew close.  “Can you fuckin’ do this?”

“Yes, I can fuckin’ do it,” the younger man snapped.

Joel did not look convinced.  He looked at Tess, torn.  He was the one riding out into the fray – who knew what they’d find and in what condition Tommy was in – but what was this?  The emotional complication of leaving Tess behind to do the dirty work?  Tommy had told Maria they had done this together, always together.

Tess pulled a pistol that she wasn’t supposed to have out the back of her jeans.  All weapons were meant to be checked;  this should’ve been surrendered when they came back from their ride.  She put it in Joel’s hand.

“Go bring Tommy home.”

Joel checked the load and kissed her quickly. 

“Let’s go,” he said to Maria. 

But Maria couldn’t leave right away.  Her responsibilities stretched further than Tommy.  So she hated herself and wasted time by finding someone a council member she trusted and relaying the information, instigating a call to arms that she insisted be kept quiet for as long as they could keep it that way.  They didn’t need a panic.  She hurried to Zahra’s clinic and brought her up to speed in as few words as possible, knowing they would need her level head, and rounded up a three more people she knew to be good in a fight.  Joel had the horses and weapons waiting for them at the gate by the time she’d set things in motion.  She felt guilty, riding away from it.  Jackson had detailed plans for what to do in this situation.  Maria had signed off on them all;  she was supposed to see these through.  But Jackson would have to look to itself for a little while. 

Maria had an appointment in Hoback.

Part Three

[poolboyservice]

THE DECAYED COLLECTIVE

(formally/alternatively The Rollercoaster Fatality Collective)

an old house stands on a hill, the paint is peeling, and there is a pile of cadavers preventing it from ever truly resting. the crows dare one another to even fly near its perimeters, and not even the snakes and rats want to roam too close, they all know better than to mess with the dead, as only hell will be there for them. though we're pretty fucking stupid, and decided to live together in this damned house.

we collectively will respond to he/they pronouns, and you can just call us Umbrella if you or even we are unsure who is fronting. That's not exactly a TUA ref like what ygs may think, but we do call one of our clusters The Gerard Academy as a ref to TUA! though the host is the one who posts/interacts a lot, more of us will be posting soon, hopefully ^^ also our headspace isn't a haunted house, we just didn't think a motel and a cabin in the woods would captivate anyone's eye

now that we've gone through that, here are the victims visitors within the haunted house (quick forewarning: it's pretty long, even though 6 alters are fully listed with a bio and everything)

*some of the following images are temporary, as we will be having more fitting drawings of them once we finish this introductory post . also we switched MULTIPLE times while making this lmao </3

Arthur/Poiz - 💊/no proxy

The host, and the one you're most likely gonna meet, here, Discord, Spacehey, you get the idea. As he's mentioned a few times, he's a persecutor and fictive, though don't let those deter you from interacting. They're honestly really nice, and an absolute nerd. Their sense of self as an alter is actually pretty messy, and he has had his name taken by another alter so many times to where he just doesn't bother with names anymore and tends to stick with source name. But hey, maybe he can tell you what was the name of the hamster Gerard Way was gonna buy. also ignore the peephole in that icon

Pronouns: He/They

Extra/Fun Fact: Poiz is absolutely nuts over Slendytubbies and has made multiple 10+ minute rants over it . don't even question it

Checkers - 🧶

THE definition of a lazy mutt. she's probably the most chillaxed of the system, like you could tell her the nastiest things to rile him up, but they would not care any less at all. it is pretty easy to tell (both in sys and when talking with him) who's in front because they will not stop meowing. there isn't much else I (Arma) could say because we don't interact that much but ! he LOVES fish (as in learning information about them, though she likes eating them too) and knows a lot about caring for fish

Pronouns: He/She/They

Extra/Fun Fact: he has a tumblr account! her url is @checkerzarelost

Gir/Ziggy - 🦇

After 2 years of dormancy…. he has risen once again… Jokes aside, they are probably one of the alters you'll most likely learn the most about, and that's not a bad thing. She's pretty social compared to everyone, LOVES making friends, and will ramble to you all day about what's on vamps mind. He's really interested in the Amnesia series, loves all things horror, and they're always ready to jump in on a topic about vampires.

Pronouns: He/They, She/Vamp

Extra/Fun Fact: Her room in headspace has two beds, but vamps the only one who lives in there, so she ends up piling vamps CD player, comics, CDs, and other things on the extra bed.

R0T (ROT) - 🥩/🪖 (military heltmet, as tumblr/our laptop doesn't register it)

There actually isn't very much to say, as we don't know too much about em :[ they kinda woke up like last month, yet the poor bastard keeps getting thrown to front and ends up hopping onto tumblr, so I feel like he deserves to be put on here (also he allowed me to)

Pronouns: He/Him

Extra/Fun Fact: Supposedly in his mems, he got bit by a vampire, but the bite got infected and he died before he even turned

G3/Kyle - 🌹/🫀 (anatomical heart, as tumblr/our laptop doesn't register it)

The taxidermist of the system, a bit offputting at first but aside from that, he's actually pretty social! He LOVES the Ramones, and will subject the system to hours of their music if he gets into front. He also may talk about wanting to kill and taxidermy someone nicknamed "Sunshine" time to time, but don't worry, 'Sunshine' is his boyfriend and that's how G3 expresses his love for him.

Pronouns: He/They/It:

Extra/Fun Fact: He is the direct reason why we have a taxidermized rat named after Bert McCracken on our dresser

Luke/Ged - 🐊

When we say he's the "guardian angel" of the system, we're not kidding. A good bit of the system sees him as a mother figure, despite him being a 25 year old man. Outside of that, he's pretty distant from others outside the system that aren't close friends, so don't expect him to be very outgoing and open if you aren't close with us. And that's all he'll give out publicly.

Pronouns: He/Him

Extra/Fun Fact: He is in co con pretty much all the time. also, he knows things, remember?

HONORABLE MENTIONS!!

basically headmates that will pop up time to time, but have been scrunched into this small list because they fronted less often, this post was getting too long, or because we're extremely tired:

Frank, He/They (🧷)

Armageddon, He/Him (💣)

Byte, He/Bitself (💻)

Jesse, He/Him (☀)

[fruitypinapple00]

My little demon

TW: religious people doing wrong things (idk what to call that lol), mention of demons (obviously), mention of whump and talking about someone like they're less than human

Jake followed the priest through the dark basement of the church, he had heard of the business that the church ran but had never fully believed it until now. Corridors filled with rows and rows of cells containing people that the church deemed "past help" and had taken into slavery to redeem themselves. The church trained these people to serve human masters because they served human desires when they had the choice.

When Jake heard this, he just couldn't believe it. He went to this church and requested their worst sinner, hoping that it would be a joke. As they walked through the metal door, he quickly realized that his hope was pointless.

A body hung limply from a Saint Andrew's cross on the other side of the concrete room. The man was shirtless and had scars and burns and whip marks littered across his pale skin. He had two horns sprouting from his head and what appeared to be a tail.

"This is by far our worst pet. It is not even human, it's a demon. We captured the nasty thing while on a missions trip. It fought a lot in the beginning but we have trained it well enough by now to send it to the home of someone who recognizes what a disgusting creature it is." The Priest tells Jake.

He walks over to the demon and grabs its hair, forcing it to look across the room at Jake. The demon's eyes were a beautiful shade of purple. It whimpered softly at the harsh tug on its hair.

"I'll take it. Can I pay you in cash?" Jake said quickly, he knew he couldn't walk out of there and leave the demon with the Priests any longer. He would take it, besides he did need some help around the house, having someone (something) trained to obey him wouldn't be that bad. Besides, even though it wasn't human it was still rather nice to look at.

"Of course, and all of our profits go towards the church and doing the Lord's work." The Priest said with a smile. He began to undo one of the cuffs holding the demon in place upon the cross. The boy fell limply to the ground, crumpling at the Priest's feet.

"Show some gratitude to your new master." The Priest scolded the boy and kicked him sharply in the side. The demon yelped softly and shakily pushed himself away from the man towering over him. He managed to get into a kneeling position, leaned forward on his hands, and bowed his head toward Jake, keeping his head ducked and his eyes low in respect.

The Priest walked toward the kneeling boy with a thick black collar in his hands. The small demon whined and tried to push himself away earning a sharp smack on the back of his head followed by a few threats.

The Priest stood once the collar was firmly in place and handed a small remote to Jake. "This is for the shock collar. If it begins to attack you or tries to run away just press the button and it will stop in its tracks. Nifty little thing isn't it."

The Priest tried to force the boy to walk up the stairs and out toward the church lobby but Jake insisted on carrying him. He paid and carried the boy to his car, sitting him in the passenger seat and buckling him in.

It was obvious that the boy was nearly delirious in pain yet still terrified out of his mind. Jake needed to get him home so that he could at least try to keep him from getting an infection.

[comvi]

silver time silver hi silver.

silver does not like any creature (but whisperer and lucky.)

silver's spikes cannot be controled, "standing up" as a reaction to stress and worry.

silver feels calm and safe around whisperer

silver learnt how to wag his tail from lucky

despite not liking chief for talking to whisperer (it thinks scavs are evil, as they are the ones making rumors about it.)

rumors about it are: "It's an alien!" (made silver get sharp claws on its "slugcat paws")) "It's a weapon for someone!" (Made spikes form on it.") "It lures people in with its mimicking!" (Made it learn to "speak") "It's just alive goop!" (Made silver drag its tail.) "Its unbound!" (Made it grab people.) not all of them but whatever.

silver is perfectly fine with whisperer touching them. but calls him off from it cause they dont know what would happen.

silver's pearls are called boons. What do boons do? help whisperer directly. holdon ima paste some things. Voice, you know anything about this thing? Bring it closer to your eyes can you even see? whatever. OH WHAT THE What? whats wrong? what is it? Uhm...throw it away! what happened to being poetic. and why whats it do Uhm... not good! just...dont keep it! i cant trust you, im asking ...it about it. You better not oh yes i will. Little thing, you are bleeding in MANY places. i'd like to see you walk. You know i can walk. You have 3 seeping marks on your chest, leaking blood, you nearly got your foot-paw bit off. Your arms bleeding and infected, You have scratch marks all over you, and your ear is also bit. Yes, and? ...fuck you. You two. I ran outside, pretty sure it would be there anyway. and it was "Hey!" it seemed.. "happy?" to see me? i hopped down and accidently dropped the pearl i tripped over it and fell flat on my face... embarrassing. i sat up and it somehow was in front of me, tail...wagging... when could it do that? "Y-you came back! H-HH-Hiello!hi!" "You said like all those words wrong but hi." "Why are you--B-BB--B" it covered its mouth "Why you back?" "The uhh...gift? what is it?" i felt the ground, still staring up at it... spooky. "O-O-Oh! it..b-bb-boon!" "a what." the fuck is a boon. "P-P-PLEAsENO!-Place... it onsomething!!" why does it seem so happy... good for it? "What will it do..?" "D-DONT!D-Depends, let me see..." Without warning it yanks it from my paw and holds it close... reading it? "Boon: circle of healing." "Why did you." why. "whydid you say that in perfect speech." i dont. "idont like how you did that why didyoudothat." it ignored me and placed it back on my paw. WHAT! NO IT CANT! cant... what? "I-T-Ilike you enoug.h...T-TOM?GGETOU" it covered its mouth again "Ilike youenough,i think it will help!" "Why uhh....thank you?" BUT IM PUNIsHING YOU! IT CANT ! ARG! i stood up quickly, ready to run off but before i could it stopped me "H-hey!" "What..?" "Iliekyour....eyes..." I forgot my eyes glow in the dark at night. thats...nice? "Thank you???" i quickly ran off, scurrying back into my den. Lucky is still sleeping..."place it on something..." hm.. I use a bundle of rocks to stand the goop colored pearl up.

^ from whisperers head

silver kills people by stabbing them. (claws r cool.)

silver loves nudging whisperer

silver is embarrassed by how they speak.

silvers tendrils will randomly grab things beside it.

the only not covered parts of silver are its feet, and half of its face.

silver is happy with this form.

silver is aware and alert about whisperers injuries, thinking he should lay low for a while.

silver has a predatory grin as a smile.

ifyouwanna knowmore about their boons ask.

who nect...

okay finally answering this!!! so so sorry for the delay! I dont have a big answer this time around cuz were not in that kinda headspace to dump a bunch of information on something i like, but ive read this a few times & i really enjoy how mysterious yet, oddly “cute” (?) silvers nature can be :0) love luv that whole thing where popular/known rumors will often become reality in some way!! + that added bonus fact about whisperer where we’ve found out!! his eyes glow!!! neat neat!!!

[sunnsartbook]

“Watch the Stars”

OC Story:

An.: Some sweet stuff, fluffy with a bit of angst and sadness. This actually made me cry a bit so i hope you like it ^^.

It was a beautiful starry night sky.   Crickets chirp. Waves of the sea pounded against the walls of the reef. The streets on this calm island have been quiet for a long time. 

“You know...” A voice rise in the starry night, just a quiet whisper. “...my feets are killing me. How about we rest for a while?”  

Isn't it cute how she tried to lie to him? She knew that he was in a rush, but she also had this weird feeling. That feeling that this was the last time they ever talk to each other or be with each other. She was worried. But would she ever say it to him? Not really. Sadly. 

They met just by an accident. She was searching for some information. What a coincidence! He too! 

She promised that she would help him out. How stupid to think that she would never help him. She loved him more than everything in this chaotic world. 

“Haha! Come on! I know you better than you think. How about that...” He turned around, smiled at her smaller being.  

She growled at him, punched him on his Arm. That earns her just an another laugh by him. “...i can carry you. It's not like you weight a ton.” Her next punch came unexpected. 

“You know... i really missed you...” Silently she snuggled into his Back. It was warm... no, he was warm. It wasn't too hot, it was a bit in the middle. Comfortable.  

He just hummed at her. He would never really admit it to her but he felt the same way. It was hard for him in the past, seeing her getting more sick day by day. What ever that helped her getting cured, he was just so relieved. But still, he wished that she would never be in fights, on the sea or in any organisation. A normal life is what he wished for her.  He is scared that anything could happen to her. This is the reason why he never talk to someone about her. Not even a single Man on the Moby Dick. No one should ever know that she was also the Child of...  

“Do you ever looked up?” Her question stopped the train of thought in his mind. “What do you mean? I always looking forward?” She laughed at him. “Not like that silly! I mean up to the stars.” His frown disappeared. Looked up into the starry sky. Indeed it was a beautiful view. “Would it not be nice to be free like all those stars?” He was confused. Free like the stars? But they are Free. Nobody say them what they should do. They can do whatever they want. Travel wherever they want. “Seems like this stupid blonde back then infected you... Freedom?” He looked at her with a serious look. But she just grabbed his chin, forced him to stare back at the sky. “Do you see that really bright Star? Its called Sirius. All this Stars can be followed. Sometimes it helps me to Coordinate.” “I didn't know that you know so much about this but still! What has this to do with being free?” He asked her. “You cant be Free as long you follow someone... I can talk about this things all day, but i dont think you will ever understand...” Things she never would have. At least this is what she thinks. Things that Stars represent like: Love, hope and a life. 

She never felt loved or hope. Was seeing the Reaper of death more then once in her life. 

Her Sickness 

The lost of someone important 

Torture 

Manipulations 

It tormented her until late at night. 

“Hey! Look at this! Doesn't it look like a squashed square?” He pointing at the Star constalation, slowly she looked in the pointing direction. She smiled. “Its called Capricorn...”  

2 Years later: 

“Its a Capricorn... Are you also watching it? I hope so. I promise... We will see  it once again. Dear Brother... ” 

For her... It seemed... Death was the only way to be really Free. 

Inspired by Song: AIR - Kelly Watch the Stars

[mickgaydolenz]

sooooo heres my dream :) I had two

I was running around my neighborhood because I wanted to be in the marathon that was going on even though it was like. three people me not included. and each time I'd get close to them was when they'd stop for water and I always used that time to catch my breath but then they'd be gone, so instead of following them I decided to just go to the finish line and see them there, which was a school, and I think to myself once I get there, "oh I wanna check the school out" aaand end up on like, the highest floor and looked out the window at the finish line but didn't see them so I kept looking around, and then I decided I wanted to crawl under one of the beds and out the other side for fun, but when I did that a ZOMBIE came under also and started attacking me???? so as quickly as I could while under a bed I crawled away but the thing grabbed my ankle so I smashed its head in with my foot😭 then ran to a window and called down to the people who were watching the finish line and asked them if they were back yet and they said no, so I ran down and began looking for them because if there were zombies I don't want these guys to get eaten. and eventually I find them and one of the guys is kinda sorta infected he's like, still him, but now trying to eat us, except ME for some reason, he like, said into his watch "take Raya home, and, give her a nice hairstyle." and stuff??? and then a helicopter came above me and began taking me while he ate these teenagers??? then I woke up

then I had ANOTHER dream because I am sick at the moment, and I sleep a lot (for reasons)

I was out in this field which had to do with work, but we were all concerned because everything was dying, so we wandered around and found the EXTREMELY steep mountain, like no joke it wasn't even climb-able, BUT we could smash our hands through it and use that as a way to climb up, and when we did we realized it was like, a dam made of ice holding a volcano, and it was melting, so everybody else stayed trying to fix it and my boss and I left to go and try and warn people but nobody listened and we just ended up sitting at a restaurant talking about how we were going to fix this, then a lady turned around and yelled at my boss because she didn't understand what we were talking about, and I was so angry and stressed out that I just got up and yelled at her "don't spit that shit at my boss or I'll kick your fcking ass! turn and face the window!" then. I...slid her chair to face the window. which was weird. and then from across the restaurant I see a gang come over and Gerard Way was in it (@rollingthunderevue thanks a lot RORY you've exposed me to mcr) and they came over, grabbed me by the shoulders and took me to the other room and beat the fuck out of me. as you know I feel things in my dreams which can be fun but not when you're getting pulverized, and eventually they sent me to my table with my boss again and another girl was sitting there who looked a little cray by stereotype, she had the big scary eyes and messy hair, and she kept giggling about how much money she had, and I had to sit next to her so I asked her about her money and stuff so she pulled out a single dollar bill and held it over her eye like and eye patch and giggled, then handed it to me. fcking Michael Nesmith was on the bill. instead of a president. it was Michael. I turned around, the other side was Michael too, he was doing the splits and smiling, then I asked her how tf she got this and she just laughed some more and put it against MY eye like an eye patch and I told her that Mike couldn't even do the splits???? then this girl who was a part of the gang and around my age sat at our table and began doing things, all the while she kept trying to take my things, and each time I would slowly pull something away so she wouldn't take it she'd just laugh and go "that's right, dog! take your little thingies now, hun." and then my other coworker came in to give us the rundown on everything and how they were fixing it, then asked me why I had a black eye and busted lip which in return I just told him to go back and keep fixing it, then I woke up and a giant creepy American girl doll was by my head which made me yelp but at least I was away from evil MCR gang

raya what in the actual fuck 😂!?!?!? those are both FEVER DREAMS!!! the standout moment (other than maybe zombies and an ice cover volcano) was fucking CHAPSTICK DOING THE SPLITS ON A DOLLAR BILL!??????!??!?

[catboyrobin]

i could have made this polycule even bigger, but i decided to spare you all from the horrors of my mind (some small descriptions of their relationships under the cut)

-rinne -> arashi : "shes too pretentious and sucks up to the industry so much. can she stop putting on so much perfume as well? usually im a feminist and all but narukami rubs me the wrong way. sometimes i get jealous seeing her kiss himeru, but its not like i really talk to tojo either." -arashi -> rinne : "i feel bad for kanata and hiyori having to share a room with him... and i dont like seeing him cuddling my tojo chan.... but i have to be nice to him for himeru's sake"

-nikki -> shinobu "cute kiddo! looks like a little dessert. his devotion for mayoi is very obvious, i see why she likes him" -shinobu -> nikki "i wish i could see you explode i get so jealous whenever you smell mayoi. shut up im going to hiss at you"

-tojo -> rinne : "what an admirable person.. he reminds me of myself when i was younger. im very grateful for him taking care of meru for me. i hope he succeeds in life" -meru -> rinne : "i want to punch you and kiss you. you make my feelings a paradox. you are my antithesis, my narrative foil, i despise you because i see myself in you. but i need you because you understand me so deeply in a way that i never even needed to express. you know who i am and im scared of that, but i want to break free. i want you to read my mind and tell me who i am so i dont have to decide for myself. im jealous that you get to spend time with your own little brother, and i cant begin to describe the hurt i feel when you ignore him. i wish i really knew what you were thinking, because on some deep level, i dont want to believe you are cruel to hiiro because of how gently you treat me in private. i hate you for making me want to open up." -rinne -> tojo : "a really chill guy but honestly he makes me feel nervous.. i feel like im talking to meru's dad or something. hes just too nice to me, and its really weird seeing himeru smile, even if it isnt actually meru." -rinne -> meru : "im really worried and concerned about you. i want to know who you really are. i want you to be happy living as your true self. i need to see you enjoying life. i feel responsible for you in a way i cant describe. i want to be happy with you, but on some level you're the same as hiiro- both of you could hate me for eternity, but i would still love you both. at least hiiro is my brother, but to you, im just your unitmate. you could leave me whenever, but you dont, despite your words."

-mayoi -> tatsumi : "we're dear friends, and im so eternally grateful for you, but... you hand-hold me like a child sometimes, and it's infuriating. im sensitive, but im not made of glass. im learning and i want to do things by myself sometimes. but i dont think i could ever truly dislike you... what sort of person am i, thinking such cruel things like that about you? shouldnt i be your lapdog after all that youve done for me? so... why am i so selfish? why do you even care about me? sometimes, i wish you had never met such a person like me... perhaps i bring out the evil within you. would we be one in the same if i fully infected you with my vile nature? maybe then i would be okay with you loving me, because it would be dirty love. -tatsumi -> mayoi : "i would blame myself for forever if anything ever happened to you. i need to protect you, because what if someone hurts you in the same way kaname was hurt? what if i hurt you like i hurt him? my true self is sinful and greedy, but i still want you, even need you. i am selfish in desiring that i am the only one who cares for you, because you need more people in your life than just me, but i know that i would be strangely happy if you only had me. despite my urges, i will always do whats best for you in my eyes. i want to save you from yourself."

[caz-is-gay]

so. currently actually sobbing bc i made the horrible decision to look through techno’s channel. i saw the gravity mod vid he posted after the announcement that he had cancer. i remember being so happy. sbi content! god. i still haven’t watched the video. yknow the one. a year ago i tried to watch squids video on part of the potato war. i didnt get 3 mins in b4 i heard his voice (he was celebrating!! he was happy!) and started crying. maybe in a decade ill be able to watch it and smile. and ill be able to watch the new one, and old ones and laugh like i used to. i looked through the community posts. he really loved birds, didnt he? i feel so bad for his dad.

june 2022. worst month of my life i think. everything happened at once. on june 1st lizzy was over. i was so desperately in love with her. still in denial about the inevitable friend zone. we went to zydecos grad party! she left halfway through to call her ex. they got back together. the facade was broken. obviously she didn’t like me back and anything romantic with her is a pipe dream. (i mean who would ever love to be attracted to an ugly fat pig like me?) so lizzy is over. im trying to ignore the heartbreak. then i hear the news. techno died. my sister hears it from a friend and tells me. the ppl we have over dont get it. they dont get why it hits me so hard, and god i dont want to explain it. so i pretend im fine. keep hosting, keep being nice. every second is agony! i cry myself to sleep. that had stopped a few months ago. i wasnt suicidal anymore but god. 2 weeks later im starting to back to *normal* levels of summer break depression. my dad finds out. he loved techno. im gone again. my mom fonds out, she doesn’t know who he is., doesn’t know the other 3 ppl at the table have already been grieving. shes lost so many to cancer. “did you hear about that minecraft youtuber who died of cancer? he was only 23, its so sad” i didnt know what to say. “yes i watched him everyday for 4 years his videos were the only thing that could get me to sleep when i started having suicidal thoughts if not for him i wouldn’t be here and now he dead.” yeah.

i still didn’t get over lizzy for months. fantasizing about a life with her was my escape. it was unrealistic and i couldn’t think about her like that anymore. then my dad brought covid home from work. june 23rd, my mom almost dies. thats the worst day of my life. it was mcc day. i was watching it on my tv, because my dad went to see his parents and mom was sick. she had been in bed for days. she got sick a lot. she had bronchitis for 10 years at this point. i was taking care of her. she was obviously delirious. asking me to pour water on her because she was so hot. i didnt know what to do. i waited for so long. i couldn’t deal with this right now i needed to de stress not have more. it got too much, i called my dad and he said she must have high blood sugar. fuck. i looked at her insulin log, nothing written for 2 days. fuck fuck fuck. he told me, if she cant draw her own blood for a reading, call 911. so we did. she could have died. if i waited any longer she could have passed out and stopped breathing. she went to the hospital. medically induced coma, intubated. she had told us many times shed rather die than be on a ventilator. none of us mentioned it. she was in a coma for 2 weeks. woke up, had to be in vent for longer. she was finally extubated. she couldn’t talk but she managed to be sarcastic still. i had to hold back tears. best day of my life.

that month changed the course of my life forever. my disability was most likely caused by the mild covid infection i got b4 my mom got sick. my mom doesn’t have a fungal lung infection anymore. my parents are sleeping in the same room again, and going to therapy. my mom has a cgm and a cpap and is on top of her health.

i cant stand the sounds of artificial breathing after sitting next to her for so long. im more afraid of my future than ever. im still getting over my best friend (fuck being demiromantic man) and i am still crying over technoblade.

[archive-double-knots]

okay i wanted to put all of this in its own hc post because we’re gonna talk about Bo’s eye, and since he had a traumatic incident I figured discussing it in detail should be its own post.

let’s start off with something more light hearted before we get into the sad. 

Arrow has been known to lowkey stick her snout into the hole on his face. Not fully but enough that he can feel her breathing. Usually she does this when he’s asleep and she wants food. It’s like a cat smacking your face but worse

Yes, Bo does make jokes about how his eye could be a really shitty portable ash tray and other shit because he’s the worst and copes thru shitty humor. He also will use it as a bad opening line 

So, in trying to find reference and such for Bo...the issue i came across is that currently ,,, his wound doesn’t exist lmao. There is no person who had their face eaten by a compy, and a compy doesn’t eat the same way other animals do. 

Natural wounds (dog bites etc) end up with only the eye itself being replaced. 

Cancer tends to cause the larger holes. However ! Those are perfectly round, because they’re artificially made.

When you look at birth defects, you get closer to Bo, but it’s still only partially what I want, since again, they lack the actual side effects that would come with an animal attack. 

Bo has a bit of all three issues. Something mixed between cancer, dog bites, and a birth defect: because what started with a natural wound (compy attack) became an infection + gangrene ( similar to necrotic tissue ), and then he had some surgical repair attempts and possibly even skin grafts. 

Basically, Bo’s wound is completely fictional with some basis in reality, but things tend to get messy when I describe it. 

When on the island, it is a guarantee that Bo had cut away some of his own skin in an attempt to stop the infection from spreading. He managed to do so decently okay using a hotel mirror, but it was still done by a starving delirious  teenager. This is also how some of his soft palette got removed, it wasn’t medically necessary but delirium does a lot to a person, and Bo wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating or not, but he wasn’t going to take the chance. Better safe than sorry.

He has a big issue with people looking at the hole in his face.

He doesn’t actually mind seeing it tbh he got used to seeing it “weirdly fast” in his words. though, to be fair, he was seeing it in river reflections and hotel mirrors when it wasn’t nicely cleaned up by a doctor so, it is arguably better than what he got used to seeing. In fact, most days, he actually just runs his hand over the clean edge of it, and is impressed that it doesn’t hurt anymore.

But Bo worries so much about traumatizing other people. To the point where he’ll wear something uncomfortable, or put his hair down to cover his face, or even tie a shirt around his head if needed just so other people don’t see it; especially any Nublar survivors

But even worse is the Nublar six. He would do everything In his power to keep those 6 from EVER seeing his wound and the reason is because it doesn’t trigger him, but he knows what they lived through. They weren’t like the 1993 or 2015 survivors. Being afraid is so different than being isolated. Seeing those people get attacked is different than finding the corpses weeks later. Bo doesn’t count the Nublar six as part of the survivors, he considers them something similar to him. They didn’t survive it, they lived it. They were part of that landscape, part of that world, they breathed, ate, and slept amongst corpses and amongst rotting flesh. 

He knows that a wound like his would be a likely trigger for the Nublar six and actively panics over hiding his face from them. (although, I bet all six of them will tell you that they wouldn’t be phased, and hate that Bo does this)

But, as Bo would say, the Nublar six have been off the island. They don’t ever need to go back there, even mentally.