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animeyanderelover · 1 year

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Request: Can you write something about Koro after he's been experimented on like you did in the Hc's of him and a clumsy s/o and darling is still sceptical and wary around him?

I would like to remind everyone to not misunderstand since this is still Koro in a human form, only slightly mutated with a few tentacles here and there!

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, mentions of abduction, clinginess, manipulation, overprotective behavior, staring, tentacles(?), bruises

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Black and deep eyes. Black and deep eyes were always watching you with every step you took. When you were eating, when you were sleeping, even when you were in the bathroom and took a shower, you couldn't shake off the feeling that he was still watching. He had always been watching you, had always protected you from the shadows and had been the reason why every inconvenient person had been removed from your life.

He had no name, the only thing that came closest to a name he had was "Reaper", something you'd rather not call him by since it was nothing you wanted to call someone by. This name was at the same time the only thing you had to work something out as your kidnapper was a mystery for you. One night he had just taken you without your awareness until the next morning where you had woken up in an unfamiliar surrounding, something that had sent a jolt of dread to the deepest part of your soul. Amongst your emotional turmoil he had just walked in like it had been nothing, an amicable smile on his face as he had pushed you back to sit down onto the bed, calmly explaining the situation to you. It was spine-chilling to see him admitting so easily that he had been watching stalking over you for the last few months as you had been the cause of stirring emotions inside of him.

He called it love, you called it obsession. The man was a stalker, had taken you away like it had been nothing and from the only name he had given you as an option to call him by, you could deduce as much as that he was working in a profession you didn't want to have anything to do with. The aspect that had terrified you the most had been his body. He was no human and you knew that he knew that too and if he hadn't told you the bare minimum of the fact that he had been experimented on, you could have easily believed that he had been an alien.

Tentacles. There were tentacles on his body. He hid them well under his clothes but in times where he seemed to get emotional, his body always went through some slight changes. A few tentacles would tear easily through the material of his shirt, a few strands of hair would grow and start to wiggle around until they would eventually become black tentacles and even his fingers would stretch, his finger tips turning into suction cups that held onto you tightly. His speed, his strength, even his intelligence were beyond human. In so many other scenarios you would have called him easily for what he was, a monster.

Yet the man made it hard for you to completely despise him. The curious glimmer in his eyes, the careful touches to not hurt you with his newly gained strength, his apparent clinginess. You couldn't deny that he was definitely feeling something for you although the stares and the disturbing amount of information he had about you were nothing short of creepy. He knew you better than some of your friends did. In some moments you felt your heart flattering at times around him as you would find yourself mesmerized with his black orbs looking at you with an almost overwhelming amount of warmth, times where your heart found itself yearning for someone loving you so much to the point it almost hurt.

Those tender moments lasted at longest only a few minutes though as you found yourself snapping out of it and going back to slightly fearing him. You barely knew anything about him nor what he was truly capable of and what you didn't know, scared you.

What you found most annoying about him was his overprotective streak though, a result from your own clumsiness. Being forgetful, bumping into things, being prone to injuries. Your entire life you had always been more awkward with your movements, tended to space out and not pay attention to your surroundings. Thanks to those kind of things that sometimes just happened to you, you were always watched over by your kidnapper who apparently found himself physically unable to leave you alone for longer than a few seconds. He didn't want you to get hurt...

---

His fingers were digging gently into the flesh of your upper arm, thumb caressing carefully over a big and dark bruise. Eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowing as he was scanning over the injury you had gotten the moment he had taken his eyes off of you for a few moments. All it had taken for you was spinning around, losing your balance and banging your arm against the edge of the table to add yet another bruise to your body. It stood sorely out though, shining in the brightest colors of purple and green to the point where you had to avert your eyes.

When he pressed his thumb only a tad bit deeper into your bruised skin, you flinched slightly under his touch. Dark eyes looked up, staring at your face as your own eyes hesitantly met his own.

"Does it still hurt much?" he asked softly, one of his tentacles on his body moving down to poke softly against your skin. Even after months you still couldn't help but be weirded out by this feeling. Smooth, rubbery and radiating with the same warmth his body did as those tentacles were essentially just additional limbs for him.

"It's not that bad." you muttered back, a hint of frustration evident on your face because you had gotten yourself into another situation like this. You hated it when people made a fuss over you because you were a bit more clumsy than others and babied you. That's why you had always brushed everything off, even if you had hurt yourself.

Lies. You were lying, he could see it. The subtle clenching of your jaw, the short tensing of your muscles when he brushed over your bruise and the clearly annoyed tone in your voice gave you away. He knew, he knew all about your constant attempts to push through your own clumsiness. You didn't want to be treated differently because of your ungainly side at times, rarely told people when you gained new bruises and were always left frustrated with yourself when you had forgotten or lost something. You had endured your entire life and it wasn't like he wasn't admiring you for it yet he saw no need for you to continue pretending in front of him.

"So it still hurts. Wait here, I'll get you a coldpack." he replied, ignoring your answer as he stood up. You watched him with irritation, rising up yourself. "I told you that I don't-"

"Wait here."

One of his hands rested shortly on your shoulder, pushing you down with minimal pressure applied to not hurt you as he chose to not even listen to your childish attempts to brush your injury off as nothing important. You've heard it so often from him before, his calm reprehension where he scolded you for hiding bruises from him and denying him the oportunity to help. He would gladly help you and protect you, he had taken you away for exactly that reason.

With a mixture of frustration and slight fear you sat back down when hearing his firmer tone and seeing his signature smile on his face, clenching your fists in your lap as you waited for him to return. It took not more than a few seconds as he hurried back to you, coldpack wrapped in a towel as his fingers seized your arm once again whilst the other hand pressed the wrapped cold object against your throbbing bruise.

He moved closer to you, his leg brushing against yours and face moving closer. The closeness flustered you and made you uncomfortable at the same time, causing you to lean back a bit. "Could you not get so close to me?" you muttered out, avoiding his black eyes and staring elsewhere.

"Why? I like being close to you."

His honesty was staggering at times and the sheer sincerity behind those words had your heart fluttering shortly before you pulled yourself together once more. You were shortly contemplating whether or not to start a discussion with him but you knew that you wouldn't be able to put any sense into his head. He seemed to live in a world of his own, a world where your words wouldn't reach him.

You would have liked to ignore him as good as you could have for a while longer before the sensation of one of his tentacles dancing around the skin of your arm pulled your attention back to reality and you couldn't help but glance shortly to his side. The look of disappointment had crossed his face once more as he was clearly unsatisfied with the bruise you had gotten yourself.

"I should have kept a closer eye on you so you wouldn't have gotten yourself such a nasty bruise." he spoke, whether to himself or to you, you didn't know.

"You don't need to watch over me all the time." you were quick to shoot back, recoiling on the inside when imagining having even less privacy.

"You'll get hurt otherwise."

"That's not a big deal."

You shut up when his eyes looked at you with a stern glimmer inside of them as you noticed how some of the tentacles of his body started moving more around, indicating that he was feeling something slightly more intense than normally. In this case you knew that you had angered him just a bit.

"(y/n), how is hurting yourself not a big deal?"

You couldn't get any words out, shocked and also slightly frightened by the shift in atmosphere.

"You have to take care of your health and treat your injuries. What do you plan to achieve by acting like you're immune to pain? All you do is forsaking your own health and only getting yourself more injuries by being reckless and not careful. You might not care but I definitely do and if you don't want to take care of yourself, I will."

Tentacles were swishing around in the air as his gaze never wavered whilst focusing on you, causing you to shrink down as a hot and humiliated feeling came over you. Teeth sank angrily into your bottom lip as you couldn't help but feel like a small child in that moment, tears pricking your eyes.

"It's not like I'm helpless." you pressed meekly out, your voice shaking slightly whilst doing so. Why were you always treated like this?

Dark eyes softened when catching sight of your hurt expression. You felt one of his tentacles caressing your cheek softly, another one nudging you tenderly to look at him. You did so, although only reluctantly. His eyes focused solely at you, staring straight into your soul.

"I don't want you to get hurt because I love you. Is it really wrong for me then to be worried about you and wanting to keep you safe? You should acknowledge that you have your limits and not push them instead of constantly trying to prove yourself to others. Are you afraid that they wouldn't accept you otherwise? Then you shouldn't even bother. I love you, I accept you as you are so you don't have to force yourself around me. Never around me, alright?"

His words hit something inside of you as you took in a sharp yet long breath, blinking furiously to will the tears away. His head dived forward, forhead pressing against yours as he continued to observe, one of his tentacles wiping away a tear that still managed to slip away from your eyes despite your best efforts.

#yandere assassination classroom #yandere ansatsu kyoushitsu #yandere reaper #yandere koro #yandere korosensei

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planefood · 11 months

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i dont have anything specific to say but!!!!! your robots are sooo soo cool and i love hearing more about them, and id love to know more about the world around them!!!! whats the deal with their setting?

Oh wonderful I was just thinking about this and was considering of making my own separate text post but didn't quite know where to put my thoughts. I'm glad you like my characters :) This is another lengthy answer bare with me I hope you don't mind. SO I don't know if I've actually outright stated this in a more obvious way but all my characters (currently) live in in modern day Auckland, the largest city in my country. It just made sense from a population point of view since about half of our entire population is in that city that that's where most of the robots would be.

and a handy map of the North Island, Te Ika-a-Māui for you before we continue

Tandy lived in the South Waikato for a while before moving to Auckland. Lithium comes from Hamilton, Jay and Phillip both come from Wellington. Cathy comes from around the rural Taupo area. The rest of the (nz) robots are local Aucklanders. I won't go too in depth about city differences and stuff because I only think like... 5 of my followers are from here as well. I know people are definitely more interested in the more 'sci fi' elements of robots living alongside humans, which I'll get to in time, but Aotearoa being the setting for the story is actually pretty important, at the very least in a sentimental level for me and will greatly influence a lot of the writing as we go forward. I want to focus more on that element for this ask sorry if that's not what you were looking for. A little more about me, a huge reason why I put such strong emphasis on my characters living here when I notice other local artists my age don't really tend to do that, is I spent my formative years living in Tokyo, Japan before moving to Aotearoa in like 2008. You can imagine moving from somewhere with 13 odd million people living in it to a city with like a 40,000 population speaking a language I wasn't familiar with was a massive change for anyone let alone a young disabled kid. Originally I was pretty resentful of living here, people at school generally treated me poorly just for being autistic alone only adding with all the cultural and language differences that came from being overseas. If I had simply stayed in Japan in my mind everything would've turned out fine. Now as an adult I do still think about what I would've turned out like if I did stay in Japan, but I still wouldn't trade growing up here for anything. As I get older a lot of cultural influence from Japan slips out of my grasp, I stopped speaking Japanese having nobody else my age who spoke it to talk to and when more things started getting imported overseas to here when I thought I could maybe get that part of myself back it even just a little, it was picked and altered for a more western palette and that's for a country as influential as Japan. I don't want that happening again for the country I live in now. As the internet becomes more commonplace and more NZ artists take the stage they're really starting to appeal to an American audience. It makes sense, it's the majority of your audience. I'm essentially screaming into a void with us making up less than 1% of the world population. I want my art and stories to appeal to a wider audience as well but I don't want to tone down any aspects I feel are important. I'm starting to get sick of writing all my ocs in the states when it's so alien to me just cause it's seen as a blank slate. My story is about robots, yes but it's also about the experience of what it's like to grow up and live here. I want people to really view and experience it like I do whether they've lived here or not, which is super difficult. I have a perspective a lot of people don't and I really want to use that to my advantage. I want to talk about more in depth and more niche aspects of it on here, but I also want to avoid boring anyone or alienating people?

#ask #I am pouring my heart out on this btw #sorry for derailing but it's what I do here

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shadowbunnydragon · 6 months

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The Keyhole Halloween Special!

Oh wow! Heyo, folks! It's been a while since I had any updates for this story! I've been thinking about The Door/Keyhole a lot lately, and I've decided to finally get back to it. Specifically, to finish off the trilogy! The final story in this series will be called The Key! Not sure just when I'll be writing it, as I have a LOT to review from the previous two stories. That being said, all this thinking about it got me in the spirit to write this little Halloween Special! Nothing fancy, just a cute little peek into how various characters are celebrating my favorite time of the year! It just felt so odd and nostalgic to come back to these characters after so long! I hope you guys like it!

The Keyhole Halloween Special

ShadowBunnyDragon

"Okay, do you have your phone?" Judy asked, smiling up at her son. She was wearing an orange sweater and simple blue jeans. Eli was currently dressed in his ZPD costume, blushing a little while he rubbed the back of his head.

"Yep. And I made sure that it's fully charged," the human boy said, holding up said phone for emphasis.

"You worry too much, Carrots." Nick casually sauntered his way over to them near the front door. Looking out the window, he could see that dusk was inching closer, his ears picking up the sounds of chatter and shrieks from excited kits outside. He was wearing a gray sweater to help ward off the chill, at least until his winter coat would grow in, as well as a pair of brown slacks. "He'll be just fine." He gave Eli a wink along with his smirk.

Ignoring her mate, Judy looked up at her son with wide violet eyes. "I trust you, sweetie," she said while reaching up to give him a hug, that he was quick to return.

"I promise, we'll be safe, Mom." Eli smiled while leaned down and held his bunny mother. Sometimes, when he would first wake up in the morning, the human boy would feel dejected. His sleep-addled mind assumed that coming to Zootopia, meeting Judy and Nick and all his new family and friends, had all just been a happy dream. But the joy he would experience once the cobwebs from the previous night were quickly shaken off and realize that it was no dream, was a feeling he was unable to put into words. Just as they let go, that's when the doorbell rang. Opening the door for his much shorter parents, Eli grinned at the sight of his friends.

"Trick or Treat, bud!" Big Mike called out from atop Isaac's headfur. The mouse boy was dressed as a vampire, complete with a cape. "I vant to suck your blood, blegh!"

"You know," Isaac said, the coyote boy was wearing a dark trench coat over a suit and tie, with a pair of sunglasses on as well. "The vampire bat who played the original Batcula, Bela Desmodus, had a tic that caused him to make that blegh noise."

"What are you supposed to be again?" The deep baritone of Darryl asked. Eli looked down to see the chinchilla boy wrapped in gauze, yet still wearing his aviators.

Isaac rolled his eyes before pretending to speak into his lapel. "I'm a government agent! My job is to find and erase all evidence of aliens, catsquaches, and the paranormal in general, and make any and all witnesses disappear." He held up his paws and wiggled his claws in a spooky fashion.

It was then that Eli spotted Adam, who was standing a little in the back, wearing a costume very similar to Mike's. Seeing Eli's eyes alight on him, the adolescent elephant winced and nodded. "Yeah, apparently me and Mike both decided to go as Batcula tonight," he mumbled.

"I told you that it's okay, Adam," Mike said, turning to speak to the pachyderm. "Next time, whenever costumes are involved, we all know to call each other now."

"Not that that would stop someone." Isaac giggled, only to be silenced by Mike tugging on his headfur. Eli was a little confused by that, but didn't have long to ponder it.

"Hey, Eli," Chuck mumbled while munching on a Whoseawhatsit bar. The snacking cougar boy had his fur dyed gray with green painted veins visible, with a fake bloody bite mark on his shoulder, visible through a hole torn in his white t-shirt. Overall, his zombie costume was simple, yet well-executed. He grinned at the human boy, some fake blood slathered going down his chin. "Ready for the best night of the year?"

"You bet!"

Judy stood there, watching her son excitedly converse with his friends, struck by the contrast of how he was when she and Nick had first met him. Scared, alone, hurt, and somewhat withdrawn into himself. A warmth spread through her chest, that only grew in intensity when she felt her mate slip his arms around her waist, hugging her from behind. The fox's muzzle parted her ears as he rested his jaw on her head, his tail curling around her feet.

"I think it's safe to say that he's come out of his shell." Nick's smooth voice was too low for Eli or his friends to hear, but Judy heard him perfectly. She resisted the urge to turn in his arms and bury her face in the soft fur of his neck and simply nodded.

"I'm just so proud of how far he's come," she quietly replied.

"Me too... he really is a strong kit."

"He's our strong kit." Judy turned and kissed the corner of Nick's mouth before they broke apart.

"What do you think?" Ned and Ted asked in unison. The two black bears were wearing a single flannel shirt that covered both of them, with both of their heads poking out of the neck hole. Ned's left arm was sticking out of the left sleeve, and Ted's right arm was being used for the right sleeve.

"That's a pretty cool idea, guys." Eli smiled, fighting back a giggle at the twins' antics. The two ursine were beaming with pride before a white tigress hopped in front of them. Kimi was also wearing a costume ZPD uniform, and struck a pose as she whipped out a fake ticket book.

"Ready to hit the streets, partner?" Kimi purred, her black and white striped tail swishing mischievously.

"Oh wow, Kimi, we both picked the same kind of costume!" Eli spoke, completely oblivious to the looks his friends, as well as his parents, were giving him.

"Yeah, what a coincidence," Isaac snickered, before a sharp tug on his headfur from Mike got him to settle back down.

"I think it really suits you, Eli," Lyla said while slipping in between him and Kimi. The zebra girl was wearing a pirate costume, complete with an eyepatch and a plastic cutlass. Eli blushed and looked away.

"Th-thanks, Lyla. Your costume l-looks really great too." Kimi pouted and crossed her arms, shooting a snickering Isaac a pointed look. Looking on, Judy struggled not to gush at the cuteness of the sight, squeezing Nick's paws with her own. The fox tod smirked at first... and then quickly suppressed a yip of pain as he forgot how strong his bunny's grip could be when she wasn't being careful.

"Alright, kids," Nick said, wincing a little as he managed to manually disengage the vice that were Judy's paws and step forward. "You all have fun tonight. Don't stay out too late, and remember to be safe."

The group of young mammals thanked Eli's parents and started to trickle away, with Eli being the last to leave.

"Thanks, Mom," Eli said, bending down again to give Judy another hug, which she was quick to return. When they let go, Nick found it was his turn. "Thanks, D-dad. I love you."

"We love you too, buddy. Now, don't keep your friends waiting." As Nick said this, he could sense that Judy was filming them with her phone, most likely ready to send it off along with all the pictures she had no doubt stealthily snapped of Eli in his costume off to various friends and family. With one last squeeze, the smiling human boy let go of his fox father and turned to jog to catch up to aforementioned friends. Judy and Nick watched from the open door, seeing the young tigress slip her arm around Eli's and start tugging him closer, her voice drifting over on the gentle October breeze saying that it was already chilly tonight. Nick chuckled as he watched Lyla take Eli's other arm in her own and agree.

"Poor guy still has no idea, does he?" Nick asked while closing the door.

"I thought about bringing it up with him." Judy grunted while she carried the big bowl of candy to set on the small table near the front door. Her smaller gray paw darted out to gently slap the red one that had tried to swipe some of the candy. "That's for the Trick-or-Treaters, Slick," she said, waving a finger in her face.

Nick chuckled and held up both paws defensively. "Can't blame a tod for trying." Judy rolled her eyes, missing Nick tucking the three little boxes od Dorks he had swiped with his other paw up his sleeves.

Meanwhile...

"Trick or Treat!" Sarah practically sang it as she stood on the stoop in her bright blue princess costume, looking up at the chuckling female lioness with her bright brown eyes. Her big brothers, Elijah and Elliott were standing on either side of her, Elijah dressed as Ironmammal, and Elliott as Doctor Odd. Nearby, Emmitt and Olivia watched their pups weaponizing the combined efforts of making their eyes as wide as possible, definitely getting larger pawfuls of candy as a result.

"She might not be an otter, but our little princess sure has gotten the hang of the 'Otter Eyes'," Emmitt remarked.

"I thought that it was called the Puppy-Eyes," Olivia said, feeling her husband intertwine their tails. Emmitt took a moment to clean his glasses, beaming at the joy on their pups' faces as they excitedly ran back, Elijah and Elliott now riding on their baby sister's shoulders.

"Mommy! Daddy! We've already got lots of candy!" The little brown-skinned furless mammal was hopping from foot to foot in pure joy.

"You sure have, Princess." Emmitt saw that their little plastic pumpkins were already almost at halfway full, and this was only the fifth house that they'd hit on their street. Internally he was grateful that Olivia had thought to bring some empty pillowcases to pour the candy hauls into. "Let's go on over to Mr. Hornsburger's house next." He motioned to the next house in line, this one with little plastic headstones planted in the front yard, with a large plastic bear skeleton strewn between them. Nearing the open gate for the white picket fence, Sarah stopped, a troubled look on her face.

"Something wrong, honey?" Olivia asked, looking up at her daughter in concern.

"Uhm... the skeleton's kinda spooky, Mommy." Sarah was hugging her pumpkin bucket to her chest.

"Don't worry, Sarah," Elijah piped up, his voice sounding a bit tinny as it came out of the speaker in the mouth of his plastic armor. He stood proudly on her shoulder, striking a heroic pose, one that Elliott was quick to imitate.

"Yeah," Elliott squeaked, swishing his high-collared cape. "Ironmammal and Doctor Odd will protect you!"

"... Uhm... okay," Sarah's face broke out into a happy grin that, despite missing a couple of teeth, was bright enough to practically light up the street. Emboldened by her big brothers, Sarah stood up straight and marched down the paved walkway towards the front door. She slowed a little as they neared the skull of the skeleton, but kept moving. A motion sensor in it was triggered, and the eyes glowed red before it let out a roar. Sarah shrieked and ran the rest of the way up the stairs. Olivia watched her reach up to ring the doorbell, and crossed her arms.

"That seems a little too spooky for little pups," she huffed. Emmitt nodded in agreement, but was happy regardless.

"Maybe, but I think the pups are making Mr. Hornsburger pay for it." As they watched, it was clear that their children were using the same trick as the one from the last house. The middle-aged rhino seemed completely caught off-guard before scooping out some large handfuls of candy for the awaiting buckets. "With interest, it would seem." Olivia wrapped her tail around her husband's and leaned into him.

At that moment...

"Enjoy braving the terrors from beyond," Chaz said, speaking in a deep and spooky voice. The timber wolf was dressed like Freddy Cougar, waving with his knife glove at the group of mammals that entered the entrance of the haunted house behind him.

"We're doing pretty well so far." Arnie, whose costume was that of Barkenstein's Monster, walked over, having gotten a fresh roll of admission tickets. "I think we'll be able to hit the goal for Mayor Snow's new human refugee center well before midnight."

"I still can't believe the Chief actually agreed to this," Chaz said this under his breath before putting on his spooky voice for the next group that walked up to their table. His tail started to wag when he recognized the couple holding paws. "Well, look who it is!"

Baily and Sophia were both blushing, the red-headed human man seeming a little flustered, until the lioness started to rest her head on his shoulder. He opened his mouth to speak when a loud voice interrupted him.

"Yes, yes, I know," Leodore Lionheart said while brushing past Baily and Sophia, a lioness in his own age range on his arm, a large politician's grin plastered on his muzzle. "No one expects to run into the former mayor, especially at a charity haunted house, but please, gentlemammals, I'm just an ordinary citizen like yourselves. There's no need to make a fuss over me."

The rhino and wolf officers shared a look but elected to say nothing. "Uh... okay, welcome to the ZPD's haunted house. All proceeds go to char--" Chaz found himself cut off by the pompous feline.

"Ah yes, the human recollection center! Had I still been in office when they'd started popping up, I would have happily set in motion a program just like it. We'll take four tickets, my good sirs. One for me and my special lady friend here," Leodore purred as he said this, leaning down and whispering something in the lioness' ear. She giggled and lightly swatted his shoulder. As Baily and Sophia watched her aunt flirting with her latest beau, the two were finding it hard not to cringe. "And for Barry and Sophie here. You could say that we're here on a double-date." He flashed the younger couple a wink, prompting the two to look at Arnie and Chaz with twin pleading looks in their eyes.

"Right away, Mr. Lionheart." Arnie quietly chortled, trying to disguise it as a coughing fit. He smiled sympathetically to the pair while accepting the money Leodore had tossed onto the table, tearing off four tickets in exchange.

"Actually," Chaz mused, his tail wagging again, "this whole charity was organized by Mr. Andrew Harcourt, the human whose boat crashed ashore a few months ago."

"You don't say?" Leodore started to scratch his chin, looking thoughtful. "I may have to introduce myself to this young up-and-comer. Maybe see how he would feel about running with me as my new assistant mayor. But, that's a plan for tomorrow. Tonight, we'll see how scary this haunted house actually is. C'mon Benji, Sophia. Let's see who gets startled first."

Baily and Sophia waited for the double doors to close behind Lionheart before they smiled at Arnie and Chaz.

"So how scary is it?" Baily asked.

"Chief Bogo is in a creepy clown costume, slowly stalking the halls in his section," Chaz explained.

"Oooh, ordinarily he's a rather large and... imposing mammal," Shophia chimed in.

"That's putting it mildly," Arnie snorted. "I think he was really excited for tonight." Just as Bailey and Sophia were getting ready to head in, out came a loud, high-pitched shriek. The doors were thrown open, and Leodore came sprinting out, passing right by Bailey and Sophia and the table, almost bowling over a group of costumed mammals.

"NO ONE SAID ANYTHING ABOUT THERE BEING ANY CLOWNS!!!"

Elsewhere...

"Oh, Renato!" Lily set the bowl of candy she had been holding down on the coffee table, her heart skipping a beat as the large black jaguar entered from the kitchen, also carrying a bowl, this full to the brim with freshly popped popcorn.

"Yes, mi amor?" He purred, taking a seat at the couch. Lily cuddled up to him and pressed Play on the remote, resuming their Halloween Horror Movie Marathon. On the tv, Malevolent Deceased 2 started to pick up from where they had left off.

"You should have seen them! So many cute children with just the CUTEST little gray fox kit riding around on a sweet older human boy's shoulders! All the kids tonight have just been so adorable!" Lily gushed, before composing herself. Renato began to chuckle, it tapering off as he began to look pensive.

"Is something wrong?" Lily asked.

"... Lily?"

"Yes?"

"Before you came to Zootopia... had you ever considered... having children?"

"Oh." Lily looked away, fiddling with the sleeve of her white sweater. "Well... yes, I had... but with h-how... with how m-my marriage was... I think on some level, I knew that bringing any child into that situation wouldn't have been fair to them. So I... just pushed the thought out of my head..."

"I see." Renato felt like he could kick himself for asking such a question. Feeling that he had ruined the mood for their movie marathon, he opened his mouth to apologize for bringing it up, when Lily continued.

"But... I... w-well..." She was now wringing her hands a little, looking away. "I... would like to become a mother one day."

Renator felt a warmth in his chest.

"I'd like to... have a cub or two myself," he confessed. "But... with the scar... I'm afraid I might be a bit too... scary..."

"Nonsense," Lily said, startling the jaguar. "I've seen how you dote on your nieces and nephews. And getting to know you, I've seen firsthand that you are one of the sweetest, gentlest, and cuddliest mammals I have ever met." Renato was grateful that his dark fur could hide the blush he felt. He almost jumped a little when he felt her hand come to rest on his. Looking over, he saw that Lily was looking at him, the sad expression gone, replaced by one radiating joy.

"I think you'd make an amazing father, Marshmallow." He smiled at the embarrassing term of endearment that had seemed to stick.

"I think you'd be a wonderful mother, my Water Lily," he said. Their lips met, with the kiss ending just as the main character of the movie started to fire up a chainsaw.

In Savannah Central...

"Halloween... a night for costumes and candy and smiling happy kits. At least, that's what it looks like on the surface. But underneath the family friendly veneer, beats the dark heart of the underbelly. Tonight is when that darkness likes to float up to the surface. And we, this city's stoic sentinels, are charged with keeping chaos and anarchy from running rampant in the streets."

"I can see why the Chief wasn't too keen on the idea of you wearing your Batbun costume tonight," the human officer chuckled while his diminutive partner furrowed his brow. The two were presently on parking duty, wearing their meter maid vests and hats.

"Oh come on," Jack said, hopping down from the truck in front of the expired meter, having just tucked a ticket under the windshield wiper. "It'd look a lot better than this dayglow vest! Plus, as my side-kick, you could dress up as Sparrow!"

"I don't think so, Jack." Walter printed out a ticket for a mouse-sized SUV that was somehow parked in two average-sized handicapped mammal parking spaces at once. "Well now this just seems intentional."

"Yeah, the nerve of some mammals," Jack said, leaning down to check the license plate as well as to look inside. "No handicap plate, and not even one of those little hangey-things you put up in the rearview window."

"They're called disability placard holders, partner." Walter printed out a tiny ticket, and very gently tucked it under the wipers.

"I still can't believe that Bogo's still got us doing parking duty though!" Jack huffed and pouted, his foot starting to tap in annoyance. "We should be out there, getting into chases, slapping the cuffs on some perps, bagging evidence!"

"Hey now, a boring night is a good night when on the beat," Walter explained, seeing the smaller mammal rolling his eyes. "Besides, keeping new officers on parking duty for a few months is a great way to help get them familiarized with the city, as well as with dealing with less than friendly citizens. Most police work is actually pretty boring, and other times you're dealing with people who are not having a great day. Parking duty can also help weed out the officers who can't handle that aspect of the job."

"... So what you're saying is... we're being tested!" Jack was tapping his chin as he spoke.

"Yep."

"... Got it!" As Jack began to strut along with a newfound confidence, Walter felt a pit of worry start to form in his gut.

"Wait... Jack, what are you thinking?"

"Hmm? Oh! Well, if that little country bunny could make a huge bust like she did with that little Nighthowler incident and become a hero, then how hard can it be for a couple of smart mammals like us?" Jack rested his fists on his hips, striking a heroic pose.

"Didn't that 'little incident' revolve around a large conspiracy involving several high ranking political figures?"

"Only, like, three or four officials other than that crazy ewe," Jack said, waving a dismissive paw. "... And around thirty other mammals, including a couple officers, after everyone was rounded up." He mumbled that last part under his breath.

"Uh-huh... and you think we're going to make an even bigger arrest than that before we've even finished our stint in parking duty?" Walter had become an expert eye-roller since being partnered with Jack.

"Well we've gotta because this is just dull." Jack threw his paws up at that in exasperation.

"Parking duty is also a great way to help some of the more excitable of the new officers help curb some excess energy." A feminine voice wafted over to the pair. Looking towards the source, they saw a pair of mammals that the partners had become more familiar with since joining the ZPD. Nadine Wolford-Fangmeyer came to a stop just short of the pair, with Ralph right beside her. The gray wolf was pushing a stroller, with a happily babbling little Rosalie inside. The human baby was cooing and looking all around with wide green eyes, sparkling with excitement and curiosity. She was also wearing a wolf footed onesie with the soft faux fur the same coloration as Ralph's.

"Well hey there, you two," Walter said, walking up and crouching down to tickle Rosie's feet. She squealed in delight and clumsily clapped her little hands. "And hi there, cutie."

"Hey guys, working a late shift?" Ralph snickered behind his paw. "I take it that someone annoyed Chief Bogo today?" At that, all eyes turned to stare at a certain hare, including Rosie's. The baby looked from Jack to her little stuffed bunny and giggled.

"Hey now, that warthog was looking real sketchy, and I thought he was throwing up gang signs. When he kept making more of them when I tried to question him... well, I thought he was being confrontational... how was I supposed to know he was deaf?" Jack looked defensive, his ears drooping as Walter sighed.

"I do know some sign language... though I've never seen hooves being used to speak it before. But anyways, from what I could tell, that guy was aggressively trying to dispute the ticket Jack gave his car." Jack looked vindicated at that. "But still... yeah, the chief wasn't happy that he kept theorizing that the guy was part of some kind of counterfeit turnip operation which... I'm not even sure how he got to that conclusion."

"The pieces were all there!" Jack huffed and crossed his arms, his ears drooping again. Trying not to laugh, the other three officers changed the subject.

"So... uh... Rosie's been having such a fun first Halloween," Ralph said, his tail rapidly becoming a happy blur, quickly whipping out his phone to show off the pictures in the different costumes they had tried on her.

"And there's been a significant drop in mammals asking if she's a little tiger or wolf cub that just has a condition to cause her fur to not grow in," Nadine said, leaning down to check and check on her little girl.

"Mama!" Rosie shrieked, reaching up for her. The tigress purred and happily complied, passing along the candy bucket to a surprised Jack. He set the jack-o-lantern bucket down on the stoop of the apartment complex they were standing in front of, vaguely aware of the gaggle of small children from multiple species milling at the door. A young giraffe girl dressed like a ballerina reached up to press a button, only for the door to swing open a second later. Out came a lynx wearing a skeleton costume with a plastic cauldron of candy.

"MWAHAHAHAHA! Take a pawful, if you daaaaaaaaaare!" he said in a spooky voice. The kids all found this silly and thanked him, each reaching up to grab some for themselves, quickly scurrying away. Jack was mulling over possible crimes he and Walter could check for while on parking duty, when a shadow loomed over him from behind. The lynx in the skull mask smiled and patted the confused hare on the head. "Here you go, little guy." The big cat dropped some candy into the plastic bucket Jack had been given before walking away. Jack felt a blush on his ears, ready to tell that guy off. Then he saw that one of the candies was a 3 Catketeers bar, and decided to let it slide for tonight.

Heyo! Be sure to keep an eye out for my final installment in The Door series, The Key! And have a Happy Halloween! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!

#zootopia #human #adoption #foundfamily #comedy #family #judy hopps #nick wilde

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herberd · 10 months

Text

Arc-V Month Day 22: Yuri and Aura

Arc V Month Day 22: Prismatic Rare, Prismatic Pair

@arcvmonth

Attempt 2 at posting this. Apparently, my first post was straight-up invisible from the tags so apologies if this appears on your feed twice

Joined Tumblr just for this, thanks to everyone that helped beta read this mess. Beware of amateur writing.

==================================

Aura Sentia liked to think of herself as any other girl. Normal, common, typical. She liked keeping up on the latest trends, eating desserts, hoping to find her other half… the list of similarities could go on. But it was much to her great displeasure that any other girl likely didn’t think the same about her.

Growing up, her ability to tell fortunes had never been anything less than deadly accurate. This was unfortunately more of a curse than a blessing, for this resulted in alienation from almost everyone around her. From her classmates only being interested in getting their fortunes told instead of actually playing with her, those envious of her powers shunning her, to the bullies calling her an evil witch. These experiences were more unpleasant than landing tails when activating Cup of Ace.

That being said, for all the trouble her ability brought her, Aura could never bring herself to truly resent them. They were an unmistakable aspect of her, and to reject them was to reject herself. And so, she continued to live life using her fortunes as a guiding light. They have never steered her wrong, never failed her. Thus, she had absolute faith in her predictions. They were never wrong and never could be wrong.

…Right?

Enter Yuya Sakaki, the most frequent subject of Aura's thoughts ever since they first met. Star duelist of the You Show Duel School, pioneer of Pendulum Summons, and possibly the greatest Entertainment Duelist in Miami City. But these qualities were trivial compared to the most important thing about him; he was Aura's fated one and only! Her fortune said so after all! She would have no regrets dropping everything and committing herself to being the best wife she could, just for him.

Even now, as Aura was sitting at her desk doing homework, she found herself distracted by thoughts of her beloved. However, recent events had caused some of those thoughts to turn into doubts. It had been several months since the Dimensional Wars concluded. She couldn't recall all of the details, but apparently Yuya's past life almost caused the end of the world? Never mind the exact situation sounding like a tangled mess, she was still struggling to sort out the ripples it caused in her feelings for Yuya.

Still, her fortune told her that she had found her soulmate, and by the Heavens was she determined to follow it to the letter. She continued hanging out with him once everything settled, but he still showed 0 signs of returning her feelings. As the days passed, the doubt and frustration within Aura continued to grow. Yuya was most definitely her soulmate, so why was it taking so long for him to adore her like she did him?

Could it be? Her predicted fortune was… w r o n g?

Perish the thought! They had never failed her, never gave her any reason to doubt them. She put her hands on her head in frustration and ruffled her hair. Bah! Aura had accidentally let her mind wander too much. Homework began to look like a herculean task, only feeding on her disinterest. Far too irritated, her shoulders slumped as she let out a deep sigh. Taking a walk to unwind began to sound like a good idea. Getting up from her chair, Aura set an alarm for finishing her homework on her Duel Disk and headed out.

==================================

Feeling her hair blowing in the breeze was definitely doing wonders for her stress. Letting herself get lost in the sensations, Aura paid little mind to which direction she was heading in. Before long, she found herself wandering through Miami Central Park. She quite enjoyed it whenever she passed through the area. The air had always felt cleaner there.

Following the paved stone path, she noticed a large bed of purple flowers planted to the side. She was fairly certain that it wasn't there before. Approaching the flowers, Aura realized that they were pansies. "Ooooh, Pansies!" Aura exclaimed. "Haven't done a fortune with them in a while."

Looking around, she noticed a young man in purple kneeling down and tending to the pansies on the opposite end. His face was obscured by the straw hat sitting on top of his head. It would be rude not to ask him for permission before laying her hands on the flowers. Walking closer to the gardener, she called out to him: "Excuse me!"

"Hm?" the gardener looked up.

"Do you mind if I…" Aura trailed off, finally laying eyes on the gardener's face. It was that of her fated one, Yuya! Just the person she wanted to (not) see!

However, something felt off. Several things, in fact. "Yuya" was wearing a purple jacket and boots, a far cry from his usual wardrobe. His hair also appeared to be slicked back instead of the its usual style. On the whole, this man extrudes a certain vibe that was very unlike the Yuya she was accustomed to.

"Uh…" was… this one of Yuya's lookalikes? Being reminded of Yuya, the irritation from earlier began growing once again as her mind began to race. Should she continue talking to him? What should she say? Why did she want to take a walk again?

"…I suppose I can't help it if I'm that much of a hottie, but are you going to keep gawking, Miss, or do you have some business with me?" The gardener said, finally breaking the silence. He was side-eyeing her, clearly wanting to go back to tending the flowers.

"Oh! Uh…" Noticing how much she was staring at "Yuya", Aura quickly attempted to compose herself and remembered what she wanted to do. Attempted being the key word.

"D-do you mind if I pick a few of those pansies of yours?"

"Well, I'm delighted that these flowers of mine caught your attention. You have rather fine taste. Please, help yourself to a few," he had perked up almost immediately, a smile appearing on his face.

"Thank you!" Aura carefully surveyed the flower bed, contemplating which pansy would first serve as the window to her future. She arbitrarily selected one, bending down to pick it.

"Hmm…" Observing the details of the bloom, Aura counted seven streaks. She racked her brain trying to remember what each number of streaks on pansies meant. She hadn't used this method in ages.

"What are you doing?" asked the gardener.

"I'm trying to use the pansies to tell my fortune…" Aura sighed. "But I can't quite remember how it goes…"

"Ah, fortune telling is it?" His eyes started focusing on the pansy in her hand. "…Seven streaks represent fickleness, are you questioning something in your life, Miss? Perhaps you've never questioned before?"

"…You know what they mean?" Aura was rather surprised. She would've never expected someone outside her duel school to have knowledge on fortunes aside from their daily horoscope, much less from "Yuya".

The gardener smirked. "What can I say? I can't claim to have gardening as a hobby without knowing at least this much. How to tend to them, the language of flowers, flower arrangements, and of course, their uses in fortune telling." Was he bragging or genuinely this enthusiastic about flowers? Aura couldn't place her finger on it. Maybe both?

"Well? Did I get close?" queried the gardener. Aura opened her mouth to speak before hesitating. She was fairly certain that this wasn't Yuya, and was unsure about how much she could trust him. However, he had been nothing but courteous to her, definitely more so than Yuya had been at times. She also couldn't deny he'd piqued her curiosity when he performed a reading with the pansy…

"…It's true, I've been thinking long and hard about my life up till now lately," she admitted.

"Is that right?"

She nodded. "Ever since I was a kid, my ability to tell fortunes has always been absolute. Whenever I was unsure about something, I'd use it to guide my choices and whatever happened was for the best! But recently… one of the things I predicted hasn't come true."

He remained silent, prompting her to continue.

"And if one of my fortunes were wrong, what other bad choices have I already made and don't even know it?" Aura looked down to the side. "Should I have thought about my choices a little more before? Was I wrong to rely on my ability so much? It's an unpleasant thing to think about."

"I see," replied the gardener. "So perhaps you predicted something wrongly, no one's perfect, y'know. Making a mistake or two doesn't invalidate everything else you've done. What about everything else you've gotten right?"

"That's true… but what if-"

"What ifs, are only what ifs. If you got hung up on every little thing you did, your hair will start greying like a hag before you know it." Aura was rather taken aback. She didn't expect him to be as frank as he was. But yet… it was rather refreshing. Unable to hold back, she. began giggling.

"Something funny?" the gardener quirked a brow.

"No, no, you're quite right. It's just that no one has been that upfront with me before… prrft."

"Really now? Aren't most friends willing to say stuff like that to your face, or have I been hanging with the wrong crowd lately?"

"Well… I don't really have any close friends my age," admitted Aura.

"Any particular reason why a fair miss like you doesn't?"

"All of the other kids in school think of me differently because of my fortunes, and I've never really fit in. They either ask me to do them a favour by reading their fortunes, or they call me names because they think I have evil powers or something," Aura was unsure why she was pouring as much of her heart out as she was. She couldn't bring herself to look at him directly, but unbeknownst to her, the gardener had softened his expression. Perhaps one of sympathy?

"Even now in my current duel school, everyone is super into fortune telling and dueling like I am. But since I'm known for my powers, now they put me on some kind of pedestal. Asking me how they can get abilities like mine, and only really talking to me about the mystical arts. Nothing else. Maybe I shouldn't have focused so much on my fortunes. But because I did, no one really sees Aura, for Aura."

The air grew awkward, and neither of them really knew what to say. Aura wondered if she said too much. However, she never really had anyone willing to listen so intently to what she had to say before. Even if it was weird telling a stranger about all this, she was internally relieved that she could vent all her feelings out to someone.

"…Well, pardon me if I'm overstepping my boundaries, but since you're already pouring your heart out to me, I suppose we're past the point of worrying about small things like that," the gardener said.

Taking a brief pause, he carefully considered what he was about to say. "It's tough to be outcasted, especially when it's for something you have no control over. At the end of the day, for better or worse, it's an undeniable part of yourself. Who are you to deny any part of it? It's all well and good to think about what you could've better and work on your bad aspects, but take a moment to stop and think about the other strengths you have. Be confident in them."

The way he talked with such certainty did enlightening things to Aura. It was as if he knew every facet of her doubts. Did he fully understand what she went through?

"Keep going at it however you think is best, and eventually you'll find people who will see that’ll see you for who you really are. But before any of that, don't lose sight of yourself. The first one to see you for you is yourself."

"Wow, uh… thank you for the advice."

"Think nothing of it, Miss. As someone who's also been around the block, it'd be a shame not to share my wisdom."

"You know I have a name right? I'm Aura, Aura Sentia."

"The name is Yuri."

Was this what it was like to have a close friend? Someone that she can talk with frankly and relate to? "If you don't mind, perhaps we could just chat for a little bit?" Aura asked sheepishly, a blush creeping down her neck.

"I'd love to. It's about time I took a break from fertilizing the soil."

And so they did. They sat down at a bench and talked for some time about whatever they could think of. Dueling, their respective hobbies, school life, even arguing about inane subjects like how many teeth Pot of Greed had. (Yuri had argued that since the pot was a singular ceramic piece, all the "teeth" were joined together and is therefore a singular tooth.)

As they talked, Aura was filled with a strange sense of familiarity. She had just met Yuri but it was as if she had known him for all her life. Somewhere deep within some facet of her mind, the thoughts of Yuya took a different turn. A different form. Almost as if-

Beep

A sound was heard coming from Aura's bag. Reaching in, she pulled out her Duel Disk. It was displaying an alert labelled "Homework". "GAH, I totally lost track of time! Sorry, but I really gotta go!" Aura hopped off the bench and fixed the skirt of her dress, though part of her felt like growing roots like the pansies and just stay. Explore what was beginning to bloom.

"So it would seem. It's a shame, I was rather enjoying our chat. Take care now, Miss Aura." Yuri raised his hand for a wave and smiled. Looking at it, something warm filled Aura. A sense of ease that made her wish for another meeting.

"See you, Yuri!" Aura waved and immediately ran in the direction from which she came. Her mind wandered by the time she made it home. Homework had been cast elsewhere and instead her thoughts circled the recent journey she had embarked on. The proverbial rock that was her worries had been lifted and for the first time, in what felt like ages, she could breathe deeply without heaviness weighing her down.

And Yuri… ah, she’d love to see him again.

Even as the two went their separate ways, Aura found herself looking forward to their next encounter. She was checking when she could arrange another meeting with him before realizing she had never got his number. Ah well, it would be more exciting for fate to bring the two back together again. She had never felt this excited about meeting someone again, not even Yuya. It was a new feeling for her.

"I should come by the park more often," Aura mused as she sat down by her desk.

==================================

As Yuri watched Aura run off as he waved her goodbye, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness. Opportunities to simply sit down with someone and chat their hearts out were few and far between, especially for someone with his history.

Almost everyone who had even a passing knoweldge of him tended to treat him with some level of apprehension when Yuri was present, whether they realized it or not. He realized early on that this kind of reaction was to be expected, and even warranted. Of course, it had stung all the same. He was still human after all. No matter how badly he wanted to, he couldn't take back everything he'd done even if they weren't entirely his fault.

Chatting with Aura had brought him a peace of mind he hadn't felt since he was a mere child. His conversation with Aura had devolved into utter inanity by the end (Pot of Greed clearly had 20 teeth. Obviously. The singular tooth argument was just a way of messing with her). And yet, he had enjoyed every second of it. It had scratched that desire to put down his walls and bond with others that he hadn't realized he'd been holding back so desperately. He couldn't help but want to see her again.

"Miss Aura Sentia…, should fate be kind enough to bring us together again, I hope you would do me the honour of being this lone gardener's friend. May we meet again," he muttered.

#arcvmonth2023 #arcvmonth

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practically-an-x-man · 1 month

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8 month old creepy cute baby Eobard has been left on your OCs' doorstep with a teether and a teddy bear dressed as the flash, pinned to the carrier is a note promising to explain later (who knows when later even will be?) what do they do?

Ooooooh, now THIS is a good one!! Thank you!

Rae: Well she definitely wasn't planning to settle down so soon, and she doesn't have much experience with babies. Plus, this particular baby is kind of freaking her out. Her first move is to take baby Eobard down to the X-Mansion and see if there's anyone there who's a little better fit to taking care of him. There's bound to be someone, right? And if there's not, well... she and Warren will do their best, because what else is there really to do?

Robin: Just for fun, let's assume she's already got Wren and she's around the same age. She and Peter are only really equipped for one baby at the moment, but they'll try, and at least they've had a few months of practice under their belts. Out of all my OCs, she probably fares the best overall. (Though Peter does get a little jealous that she can sleep through the night when Eobard starts absolutely wailing - Wren was born Deaf like Robin was, and she's pretty quiet, but Eobard is definitely not)

Madison: What the everloving fuck is she going to do with a baby? She doesn't really want kids at all, and she definitely doesn't want kids now. Baby Eobard kind of gets passed around the X-Mansion for a bit - Hank's got a surprisingly decent paternal instinct, Sean's used to taking care of his little siblings, Charles has a natural (cough cough telepathic) skill for calming him when he gets fussy, and the others do their best. It takes a village, and all that.

Ophelia: It's a good thing she lives just a few floors up from her dad and Norman, since she doesn't know the first thing about taking care of a baby - and obviously they do, since they raised her and she turned out mostly alright. It's kind of a weird situation to explain, and she hopes whoever left the note is back soon, but at least baby Eobard isn't starving in the meantime.

Jasper: Honestly, just ends up dropping off the baby at the hospital or the nearest safe surrender center. They do feel bad, but they're young and poor and definitely don't know how to deal with this (and Kyle's in the same boat), so they're afraid they'd only cause more harm. Better to leave it for someone who knows better.

Kestrel: Wonders if this is some sort of trick, or karmic retribution - this uncanny-valley baby has got to be a changeling, right? This either sends them into a bit of a spiral, or they actually get shockingly attached to the baby (perhaps because they wouldn't want baby Eobard to feel like an outcast the way they did growing up). They've never really taken care of a baby before, and neither has Warren, but at least Stan and Ruth can offer their advice

Katherine: She is barely twenty and has never really wanted kids... but she's also linked to Bastet, and something about that makes her feel inclined to take care of the baby. It's such an emotional paradox, knowing she herself doesn't want kids but also feeling supernaturally driven by her link to the gods, that she ends up breaking down entirely. It's an incredibly emotionally difficult period for her and everyone can see it, and eventually Larry comes in and takes the kid off her hands - at least he's raised a kid before, with Nick and all.

Quinn: Dude, this kid might as well be an alien. For one thing, she lives out in a trailer in the middle of the desert. For another, who the fuck would find her and somehow come to the conclusion that she'd be fit to take care of a baby? She surrenders him at the nearest clinic the first chance she gets - it's just for the best, there's a whole laundry list of reasons why she's not suited to taking care of a baby.

Eris: Is surprisingly adept at taking care of the kid - not exactly motherly, but they know a lot of old wives' tales and tricks from throughout history that keep baby Eobard sleeping well, eating well, calming him when he's fussy, things like that. They gripe about it all the time - he's annoying, he's needy, they're losing sleep, where the fuck are his guardians - but they're surprisingly attentive when it actually comes to taking care of him. (But let's be real, Eobard Thawne as raised by Eris would be a living terror of a human being, let's just hope his actual guardians come back before he gets out of his infancy)

Nikoletta: She's just... uncomfortable. She's barely good at comforting adults, let alone helpless infants, and she's really not sure if there's anyone on the Squad who could help. DuBois has a kid, right? He's changed a few diapers before? She doesn't really want to give baby Eobard up, since that would feel too much like abandoning him and she's got some lingering trauma on that front, but she's also completely lost on what to do. Abner's surprisingly good with the baby - maybe because he grew up with a lot of siblings, and probably had to raise them when his mother neglected them - but he's also racked with anxiety over the whole situation and is terrified he's going to somehow ruin the kid even though he's actually doing a pretty decent job. They're really just trying to ride out the clock until Eobard's rightful guardians come back, and hoping they come back soon.

#my friends!!!#answered asks #my ocs #jasper wilson #ophelia octavius #madison douglas #oc quinn/aces #oc kestrel #rae mckinney #robin cassidy #oc katherine johnson #oc eris #nikoletta bordeaux

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randadrives · 3 months

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An overview: Moab pt 3

So that was my first stop. It was built in 1908 and is open seasonally. I wont give too many details as it’s a neat stop to take your time and read about the history there. Not only do they sell pies, but you can purchase honey, jams, pumpkin butters, and other souvenirs. I bought an apple pie, that could probably be split between two people, and told myself that would be my post-hike reward. I hiked the Chimney Rock trail, which honestly I can’t remember why I picked this one. Sometimes I choose based on the distance of the trail and where it’s located in the park before I’ll choose for landmarks or popularity. It’s just what works best for me most of the time. But DAMN I’m glad this is the one I ended up on. There are moments when I’m exploring that just hit me a certain way, and the best way I can describe it is a spiritual experience. I’m not religious, but if I were, nature would absolutely be my religion. I came around a bend on this trail about half way through and was greeted with a sight that brought tears to my eyes. The sky was riddled with clouds and the sunshine had just came through to hit the mountains and Mummy Cliff in a brilliant way I could not have captured on camera. It was a dream! I finished the trail with so much joy in my heart. I stopped at a couple lookout points on the way back out of the park and ate the entire apple pie when I got back to my trailer. I absolutely insist you get some pie if you go, 10/10.

This leads me to another type of attraction to visit the area for: the state parks! I stayed at the campground in Hanksville because on my way back to Moab from there was Goblin Valley State Park. Have you ever watched the movie Galaxy Quest? If so, this landscape will look familiar, as the scenes on another planet were filmed here! It was such a cool stop and cost me $20 to get in (worth it). I had my trailer with me, so I was nervous about the parking situation, but it turned out to have a large parking lot with RV size spots, right in the hub of all the park had to offer. I was able to park the truck and trailer and walk the dogs around right where all the hoodoos, or goblins, were located. A hoodoo, aside from being a spiritual tradition practiced by enslaved African-Americans in the U.S., is a tall and thin natural rock spire caused by erosion. These spires go on for miles. My dog and I explored them for about 2 miles or so in total. There were a couple hikes I had wanted to do, such as the Goblin’s Lair, but I didn’t want to leave the dogs in the trailer in the parking lot after one had just waited for an hour already. Exploring the main area was enough for me that day. It really did feel like an alien planet. Another state park I visited and camped in was Dead Horse Point State Park. To me, this park is so underrated, and the landscape was comparable to Canyonlands, though a little bit closer of a drive from Moab. This is a dark sky area, and I made sure to reserve a night during the new moon (do this far in advance!) so that I could star gaze, but unfortunately the weather had other plans and it rained that night. I still had a great time. The trails were very accessible from the visitor center parking lot, as well as the main views everyone wants to see. Many of the plants you’ll see here are slow growing and hundreds of years old. I do love state parks because, unlike many national parks, dogs can be on the trails. I witnessed a wedding occurring right at Dead Horse Point that evening! Mountain biking also appeared to be popular at this park.

Another feature, and is free, to explore is the Manti-La Sal National Forest. During the hot summer months if you drive up into the mountain, you can experience much milder weather that stays about 15-20 degrees cooler than down in the town! That is as long as you can handle the elevation. When it was too hot to be outside, I would load the dogs up in the truck and we would go for a drive on La Sal Loop, which takes about 1.5 to 2 hours with no stops. Along the loop are many hiking trails to hop out, as well as a lookout point at around 9,000 ft in elevation. My favorite trail here was probably one that leads to Brumley Arch and a waterfall. It was HARD because of that elevation, but I went in October when the leaves were changing and it was well worth it. People may think the desert doesn’t get pretty colors in the fall, but that’s just not true! Another good one was the Clark Lake Loop, which I did in November. The wind was killer, and my friend and I heard some type of animal that made us almost pee ourselves. Oh, and we became kind of lost. But those are all things that just add to the fun. . . Right? Aside from hiking, the forest is full of off-roading trails (as is most of the area anyway). There’s also two other lakes, one called Oowah Lake that you can drive to on a very narrow, dirt road. I had taken my dogs there on several occasions, but tread wearily as we had an incident with a fishing hook we did not expect. Another cool detail about the forest is that it’s grazing land for cattle. You will be driving along the loop, or show up to the lake, and all the sudden there will be random cows everywhere! Maybe some people wouldn’t like that, but it always made me chuckle.

Aside from these major attractions, there are plenty of hiking trails, off roading trails, mountain biking trails, cool rock formations, lakes, the river, and historical things like petroglyphs/pictographs and dinosaur fossils, to see all over Moab and the surrounding areas that you don’t need to pay a fee or reserve a time to see. I could seriously write a 10 page essay just on free trails I did outside of the national and state parks. I suggest using apps like Alltrails and Fatmaps, as well as just Google, to find them! Or ask the locals when you stop at the shops or in the campground stores. There are plenty of ways to stay for all vacationer types: hotels, Airbnb’s (though I’m still salty about the housing crisis in Moab), RV campgrounds, and BLM land to camp on. There are local restaurants to support, my favorite place for coffee being Snake & Oil. I cannot stress this enough, but as a visitor please DRINK WATER. Drink more water than you think you need! Heat casualties are very real in this area, especially for those who are not acclimated to the climate or elevation. Your water bottle should be your best friend here. Bring your camera! You will take photos and think “this seriously doesn’t do it justice” but still take more! It’s nice to have something to look back on, especially if you only ever get to visit once in your life. Don’t take your vehicle on off-road trails that it is not capable of handling, and also do not unless you’re willing to break something. It happens, frequently. Maybe rent a Jeep, and break something on that. Remember to pack in and pack out, as the ecosystem here is extra fragile. Most importantly, be kind to the locals! After spending 5.5 months there, I can truly say I had great experiences interacting with the people of this town. It can be extremely frustrating for them with the amount of tourism that occurs when the infrastructure can’t always handle it. I hope that you will have the opportunity to experience the splendor of this region if you have not already!

#hiking #nature #travel #lifestyle #moab #rv #utah #national park #state park #camping #national forest

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wernerdodsislost · 7 months

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Log 11:

The Wicker Web

“Yknow, it’s hard to say if I actually got that statue or if it just appeared. All I can remember is that one day it was just there, I can’t say I didn’t find it unnerving, but I was busy and couldn’t be bothered to get rid of it. I think it was the arms that bothered me; they were as human as the rest of that wicker silhouette of a person, but they had too many turns, they were too long and had several noticeable elbows. Now I would have just thought it was a feature of the medium of wicker, but these… these were not natural. I swear that they would be longer, just ever so slightly longer, every day. Of course if it was just an odd statue, I wouldn’t be telling you this. It was about a month ago that it had started, the twisting, it was horrible, I’m sure as you can see by my current condition, that, this was the most hellish experience I’ve ever gone through. It started when I woke up in the middle of the night with a sharp pain in my side, when I looked to see what it was, I saw a wicker branch, poking into me, not pressing against me, or jabbing me, but buried, about an inch deep into my skin. I desperately tried to pull it out, and I eventually succeeded, but I could feel the splinters inside of me. What happened next was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life; the splinters started to move, going deeper into my body, until I could feel them near my bones. I immediately fainted from the agony. When I came to, I couldn’t feel my arms; actually I could feel my arms, but the feeling was so alien and foreign to my brain that I couldn’t register that what I was feeling was my arms. When I looked down to see what was causing that sensation of touching the smoothest wood, but with the inside of you hand, I found that my arms were bulging and lumpy, they were distended and distorted, I could barely recognize them as my arms, of course the next part is the part that still makes me ill to think about. My fingernails shattered, now you might think you know what pain is because, oh no you tore a hangnail a little too much and now you nail is too short! You don’t. When the shards of every single fingernail you have go flying into your face with the force of bullets, when your fingernails are destroyed with the same brutishness as a bone shattering kick from a donkey, that, that is pain. But it wasn’t even the beginning, no no no, not even close. The tips of my fingers, well, there’s no easy way to say this, they ripped open, the bone had been replaced with wicker, and that wicker needed to grow, but wicker isn’t alive, it’s dead wood, it can’t grow! And bones aren’t supposed to turn into wicker either, but the twisting, shifting, branching hell that burst through the flesh of my fingers would disagree. I was paralyzed by pain, I couldn’t see, I couldn’t hear, I fell to the floor unable to feel anything but the shifting of the devils wood inside my bones. It could have been seconds, or weeks, I don’t know, how could I? My whole world was wicker bursting from my arms and branching back into my body at various points, I think by the end, at least 70% of my body was holes. I was eventually found, dead from blood loss in my home, arms missing, and body like a pin cushion, I’m alive now, I don’t know how, if it was the doctors, or some other force keeping me alive to toy with me some more, I hope my death may be an escape from this tormentor, I fear, however, that somewhere deep down, I know it won’t be.”

Account of Gregor Dawson taken on the 3rd of May

-WD

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nrrrdgrrrl2002 · 1 year

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Of Mutants And Monsters

Continuing New Developments

“So what happened?” Middy asked as she shone a light in one of Casey’s new eyes.

“I don’t know! I just.. woke up with these things!” Casey exclaimed, still tense with worry. Middy turned off her flashlight and put it away.

“I’m gonna get a blood sample from you to be checked” she said as she pulled out a needle. Casey layed a hand on the ramp near her.

She took one of his fingers and poked it with a needle, black blood filling the tube.

Casey looked away for a moment, thinking. He knew the answer, but still felt the need to ask.

“Do you know what might be happening?” He asked her. She looked up at him as she removed the needle.

“Technically no. But we have some experience with this with april. For her, half her dna is from an almost lovecraftian seeming alien queen with many limbs and parts and inhuman anatomy so it makes sense for Aprils more humanoid body to develop less and less human traits as she grows.” Middy was saying when she noticed Casey’s confused face.

“Basically Aprils anatomy changes as she gets older due to her alien dna. It’s like puberty for her. It’s possible you have a similar situation but we don’t know enough about what mutated you to understand why” she finished.

“So I could turn into a mindless mega monster?” Casey asked, clearly anxious. Middy didn’t want to lie but..

“I can’t say no” she started, causing Casey to let out an anxious groan. “But that’s a bit extreme at the moment” she finished.

Casey lied his head on the ramp while clutching his hair. “So it could happen?” He asked as he looked at her.

Middy sighed. “Yes. It could” she said, deciding to tell the truth. “But that doesn’t mean it will. You’re a good kid. You shouldn’t feel constantly worried about this” she said.

“Well I also shouldn’t have to worry about crushing a bunch of people cause I tripped yet here we are!” He argued.

“I know. My situation wasn’t as bad but I was a teenager who had to worry about things a teenager shouldn’t too” middy responded.

“Then you should know not worrying is a lot easier said than done” Casey said. Middy tilted her head and looked at him.

“Is there something else going on?” She asked as she inverted the tube of blood. Casey grumbled and looked away from her.

“Nah it’s fine. I’m not allowed to be emotional anyway” he let slip. “What makes you think that?” Middy asked, knowing possibly why.

Casey grumbled.

You may as well just say it

“Maybe it’s because everyone acts like me being “moody” is SUCH a problem. Like

“Casey you need to calm down”

“Casey you need to chill out”

“Casey why aren’t you more happy?”

“Casey why are you such a downer?”

“Why don’t you hang out with us more Casey?”

“Why are you being a d••k Casey?”

“You should smile more”

“You should like yourself more”

“You should just accept your mutation”

“You should just accept being a monster”

“You should just accept everyone around you being as fragile as glass to you now”

“You should just accept never being able to have proper interactions with others again””

Casey stood up and clenched his fist as he got angry.

“Well what if I don’t wanna be calm? What if I don’t wanna accept being a freak?

What are you gonna do about it? Huh?

If I should accept being a giant monster, why should I listen to someone I could squash under my foot?”

Middy looked at him pace as she listened. She couldn’t help having a sad face as she saw him with a pushed off smile, looking like he was about to cry.

“What are you gonna do if I snap anyway? Kill me? Well at least I won’t have to live like this!” He stopped when he realized what his last sentence was.

Middys eyes widened slightly.

Oh great. Now she was gonna think he’s unwell.

He thought as he looked at her like he did something wrong.

“Casey..” she started.

Here it comes

“Why don’t you come here for a moment” she said as she gestured him to come closer.

Casey bit his lip and looked up as he reluctantly went closer. He layed his arms on the ramp and layed his head on his arms.

“Case” middy started as she walked closer to him. He slowly turned his head to look at her.

“Do you wanna die?” She asked. Casey looked at her and then looked away. He sighed.

“No” he responded. “I just..” he tried to continue despite his shaky tone.

“I don’t wanna live like this” he finished, hiding his face. Middy rubbed his hair.

“I know” she said. She noticed she was still holding the tube. “I’m gonna go get this checked out. I’ll get back to you as soon as anything is discovered” she told as she turned to leave.

Casey nodded, still not looking at her.

Stupid

Why’d he have to be such a loudmouth?

She probably thought he was a crazy beast

Why couldn’t he just suck it up and deal with it?

He got up and crossed his arms as he walked off, looking down.

They were right

Dad was right”

#tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2012 casey jones #of mutants and monsters

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alister312 · 1 year

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Sup alister my buddy pal chum it’s pitch and I’ve been having some Corey lanskin brain rot and I wanna know about your thoughts/headcannons on him, Gregory, and Christophe as a silly lil trio cause yes they are goddamn madmen

PITCH YOU HAVE COME AT THE MOST OPPORTUNE TIME BC I’VE ACTUALLY BEEN THINKING ABOUT COREGSTOPHE A LOT LATELY

firstly— Corey thoughts/headcanons:

Corey is a bit younger than the other boys, I think about the same age as Dougie. Because of this, he feels a bit alienated from the rest of them (not quite in on all the same growing up experiences) so he’s very sardonic in everything he says and does, twelves layers deep in irony. This does alienate him further usually but he LIKES being a little shit (or so he says). He’s a lot nicer and more genuine when talking through a screen, funny enough, which is why his closest friends are those he games with. Corey spends most of his free time streaming (he has a Twitch channel— it’s unsuccessful) or doing freelance coding/hacking gigs. That boy is terminally online. He’s got the worst fucking posture and bags under his eyes and greasy-ass hair <3 go shower stinky gamer boy

now specifically when it comes to him, Gregory, and Christophe:

Neither Gregory nor Christophe is very technically adept. Christophe finds the minutia of coding unrewarding and therefore frustrating while Gregory hates the impersonal nature of technology. They used to ask Kyle to help them with stuff but Kyle’s busy with his own life so they ended up working with Corey instead. This turns out to be really good because Gregory and Christophe are very insightful people who can see through all of Corey’s bullshit and meet him at the same level of sardonic wit (and lowbrow humor in Christophe’s case). Corey and Gregory often have debates about real world issues and politics but Gregory teaches him how to have a real, civil debate (not like ones in twitter threads). They also appreciate having a fellow Brit around, though Corey mocks Gregory for having a posh accent compared to his Cockney one.

Corey and Christophe get along especially well, both of them kind of enabling the other’s gremlin behavior. Gregory keeps them from being absolute menaces to society but they do like to just dick around and do stupid shit. Corey teaches Christophe how to properly roast someone online and Christophe gets Corey outside for once in his goddamn life. He brings Christophe on his Minecraft stream at one point and Christophe spends the whole time talking about dirt and digging techniques. Additionally, they bond a lot about smoking but Corey weens himself off of it using lollipops and eventually convinced Christophe to do the same. Gregory privately thanks Corey for that a lot— it’s something he’d always wanted Christophe to quit but could never get through to him about.

And while I do love the idea of all three of them possibly together (the order of that being first gregstophe, then corstophe, then coregstophe), I do also LOVE the idea of Corey being the ultimate third wheel to Gregory and Christophe’s relationship. In that case the three of them have these sorts of vibes:

anyways thx for coming to my ted talk on why everyone should love minor character corey lanskin and thank u pitch for giving me the excuse to write it all down like I’ve been wanting to do for a while

#yelling screaming i need more content of him in the world don’t even get me STARTED on my insane lanskov or corary (corey/gary) ships either #south park #sp headcanons #corey lanskin #gregory of yardale #christophe delorne #gregstophe #coregstophe

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ceramicdove · 2 years

Text

“chatting idly and mindlessly about very common or basic character misconceptions” part two, wataru edition. something something about wataru’s dehumanization and how he spent years of his childhood picking up and putting down roles and losing himself between the lines of where his own solitary identity lied (where does the stage end?), external to every character he’d dipped into starting from his youth. I think it’s interesting to see how he’s developed and handled this over the years. but also, somehow, despite how alienating and blurry it can feel, the act of performing and trying to trace back who you are because you’ve picked up so many pieces and faucets from people and characters and from life as a whole is one of the most human experiences there is. and it’s already said within the story that identities and personalities are episodic and continuously subject to change and growth, they can never truly be defined. they live and breathe as our bodies do.

so I think it’s misguided to view the only focus of his arc as being ”oh, no, he must just be lying about everything and be secretly super sad and depressed all the time!” when there’s more to it than an archetypal “happy-go-lucky character turns out to be hiding their pain” ending (and more to it than assuming he’s lying about everything, in general).

I also love that he uses performance, theatre & actions as a means of communication, and how he feels as though he stumbles greatly over his own words and can barely ask for things. having theatre as a framework for communication offers a safety net and a certain sense of indirectness, but at the same time he gets mangled and tied up within that net and the other characters (or even he, himself) begin to grow frustrated and confused surrounding his existence & intentions (hokuto’s “if there’s something you want to be done, do it yourself like a normal person [...] but you and your sacrifice will never be rewarded. the spectators won’t ever notice”) and the audience no longer understands him, it assumes he’s only lying through his teeth and therefore questions and probates every inch of him. wataru is intelligent, fickle, and capable of acting manipulatively or in ways that cause shifts and ripples through the story (he’s been very good at doing so), but at the end of the day he’s also a teenager and a child like everybody else, he bears his own sense of confusion, loss, sorrow, genuineness, and love. he’s a bright and brilliant character with a big, albeit confusing heart. and he ultimately is meant to be accepted with all of these faucets, numerous and ever-shifting as they may be.

#wataru is a really complex & indirect character to read so this is just how I see things as of right now. always susceptible to change.#I think almost everyone sees him differently in one way or another due to his writing so I can only offer my own piece of the puzzle.#but I think he at least deserves respect & time coming from people who look at his character. no matter the take-away.#I could say so so much more & be more thoughtful about this but I just wanted to get it off my chest quickly. and experience peace.

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theneonsanctuary · 2 years

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A story of The Neon Sanctuary...

Exeunt

Chapter 1: The Spectator

Summary: Your name is Gideon Gladwell, and you want to go home.

Your name is Gideon Gladwell, and you want to go home.

Nothing changes in The Theatre. Dust hangs in the spotlight, never settling. Paint does not crack, or peel down the walls. The dim floor lights do not flicker or fade.

You try to test these properties, at first. You drop your program on the floor.

This is the moment you begin to admit to yourself that you are afraid.

The program floats to the floor. You sit there for simultaneously seconds and eons, watching it happen. It is still happening, and it is done happening. The dust is settling, you realize. The paint is peeling. The lights are flickering. Time and inertia and cause and effect play by different rules here, rules you were not built to navigate.

The water in the bathroom runs. You stare at the sink, hands trembling, cold dread prickling down your back, watching the stream pour out of the faucet. The motion is wrong—continuous, but too slow—but when you turn it off, it stops. The dust is settling and the paint is peeling on a timescale you cannot engage with, but the water only runs when you tell it to.

You arrived slightly hungry. Slightly thirsty. You are still slightly hungry, and slightly thirsty. Not enough to experiment with food from the concession stand just yet. Not enough to make you miserable. Not enough to pull you from your work, in more normal days, and it is easy to slip into the feeling of a long session studying Hector's teachings, or practicing your trick riding.

You miss Tíshǔ, your borrowed donkey. And everyone else, but it's easier to think of them one at a time. You know they're doing well, or were doing well, or will be doing well. The Presenters, or The Theatre, or whoever is making the rules, are occasionally kind enough—cruel enough—to show you the circus.

The ceiling tiles in the bathroom give way to what initially looked like a promising alcove, but it's just a small, empty attic, with a glowing green X on the far wall.

There are a lot of those. Outside the bathrooms, behind the concession stand, in the back of the coat closet... There are several of them burned into the large double doors at the back of the auditorium. The doors that will open, sometimes, but cannot be passed through. The doors that should lead to the lobby, but don't.

There are two smaller doors, in the back corners. They lead to the lobby. And at the back of the lobby, old and ornate, there is another double door. Burned into the wood, in glowing green, is a warning: catwalk.

To the left of the double doors, just out of your reach, high up in a section of wall that looks different from the rest—newer, perhaps?—there is a window. It is slightly ajar. During your first, desperate investigation, you ignored the green X burned into the wall beside it, and jumped up to grab the ledge.

The window slammed shut, narrowly missing your fingers.

You also ignored the catwalk warning burned into the door. You pushed it open, looked out on a field of rolling green hills, and thought of your brother, and charged through. The air changed around you, and your foot caught on metal, and you were falling. Too fast to grow wings.

One of The Presenters—one of the creatures on stage—caught you in his arms, effortless, without missing a beat. "We've tried," said the other, not unkindly. You ran, and they did not give chase.

The Presenters are ceaseless—or so you think, at first. They are never quiet, at least not at the same time. They are always performing. Sometimes the past, sometimes the future, sometimes the present. Sometimes your own life, but more often not. There is a strange divide in your head, allowing you to simultaneously listen to their imperishable chatter and pursue your own train of thought.

And then there is an intermission. The silence is so startling, so comforting and alienating all at once, you waste it hyperventilating in your seat. Thinking about home until you have to dig your nails into your arms to keep from crying. The Presenters approach you, offering food from the lobby, and you almost scream. It is the first time you have ever seen them leave the stage. The box door opens behind you, and suddenly they are there, on either side, looming, and you have nowhere to run. You resist the urge to jump out of the box in terror—mostly because you don't want to land among the rows and rows of mannequins below.

The fear lights a fire. You get back to work. Testing. Searching.

You can set your program on the floor, or the seat next to you. You can directly influence things. They just can't be made to follow the usual rules of physics beyond a certain point. You do not yet know what that point is.

Your voice carries. Your breath is hot against your own hand. And when you calmly, experimentally prick your finger on splintered wood, blood trickles down. Your voice, your breath, your blood—these things count as you, apparently. And you have more velocity than a dust mote.

Interesting.

At the next intermission, one of The Presenters tends to your wound.

You fascinate The Presenters, who are not exactly your captors and not quite your allies. Fellow prisoners, you might think, if they weren't so placid about it all.

Still, you are not naive. You can guess where the charred, glowing Xs came from. These two were not always placid. The thought tightens something in your throat, your chest, your gut. You haven't found a single potential exit that wasn't already marked. These smiling, laughing figments were once as desperate as you are now to get out of here.

What is going to become of you?

#tns: exeunt

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biggest-gaudiest-patronuses · 3 years

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I suspect quite a few people on this site don’t realize they are struggling with the effects of chronic trauma. In particular I think more people need to learn about the symptoms of C-PTSD.

Distinct from general PTSD, Complex PTSD is caused by prolonged, recurring stress and trauma, often occurring in childhood & adolescence over an extended period of time. There are many risk factors, including: abusive/negligent caregivers, dysfunctional family life, untreated mental/chronic illness, and being the target of bullying/social alienation.

I’m not a mental health professional and I’m not qualified to diagnose anyone, I just remember a million watt light bulb going off in my head when I first learned about C-PTSD. It was a huge OH MY FUCKING WORD eureka moment for me—it explained all these problems I was confused and angry at myself for having. The symptoms that really stood out to me were:

Negative self-perception: deep-seated feelings of shame, guilt, worthlessness, helplessness, and stigma. Feeling like you are different from everyone else, like something is fundamentally ‘bad’ or ‘wrong’ with you.

Emotional avoidance of topics, people, relationships, activities, places, things etc that might cause uncomfortable emotions such as shame, fear, or sadness. Can lead to self-isolation.

Learned helplessness: a pervasive sense of powerlessness, often combined with feelings of desensitization, wherein you gradually stop trying to escape or prevent your own suffering, even when opportunities exist. May manifest as self-neglect or self-sabotage. (I remember watching myself make bad choices and neglect my responsibilities, and having no idea why I was doing it, or how to stop myself. Eventually I just stopped caring, which led to more self-neglect.)

Hyper-vigilance: always feeling “on edge,” alert, unable to relax even in spaces that should feel safe. May be combined with an elevated “flight” response, or feelings of always being prepared to flee. (I used to hide important documents and possessions in a sort of emergency go bag, even when I was living alone and there was no logical reason other than it made me feel “prepared.”)

Difficulty regulating emotions: may include mood swings, persistent numbness, sadness, suicidal idealization, explosive anger (or inability to feel anger and other strong emotions), inability to control your emotions, confusion about why you react the way you do.

Sense of foreshortened future: assuming or feeling that you will die young. Recurring thoughts that "I'll be dead before the age of 30/40/18/21 etc." As a teenager I used to joke darkly that I didn't plan to live past 30—not because I planned to end my life, but because I simply couldn't imagine myself alive and happy in the long-term. I couldn't imagine a meaningful future where I wasn't suffering.

Emotional flashbacks: finding yourself suddenly re-experiencing feelings of helplessness, panic, despair, or anger etc, often without understanding what has triggered these feelings. Often these flashbacks don’t clearly relate to the memory of a single event (since C-PTSD is caused by repetitive events, which can blur together), making them harder to identify as flashbacks—especially if you’ve never heard the phrase “emotional flashback” and don’t know what to look for. For years I just filed it under “sometimes I overreact/freak out randomly for no reason, probably bc I am just a terrible human being.” (It turns out there was very much a reason, it was just hidden in the past. I have since learned to be kinder and less judgemental towards myself.)

There are other symptoms too, here are more links with good info.

I’ve been meaning to write this post for awhile, because I’ve noticed that a lot of the people I interact with online have risk factors and experiences similar to mine. These include:

growing up in a dysfunctional household

having caregivers who do not fulfill basic emotional needs (do not provide consistent positive attention, encouragement, support, acceptance, communication, a sense of safety and security)

on a very related note, experiencing neglect or abuse at the hand of caregivers or other adults. I also want to emphasize the significance of emotional abuse, since it is hard to recognize, easy to ignore, and utterly rampant in so many communities. In general, family dysfunction, abuse & neglect are quite difficult to identify when you are a child/teen and that is the only “normal” you have known.

(For example, in my family it manifested as an emotionally absent father I was vaguely frightened of, constant nagging from a hypercritical mother, and a house full of people who yelled and screamed at each other. It took me years to realize I grew up in an abusive environment, because there was no physical violence, because I participated in the fighting, and because my behavioral problems made me the family scapegoat. And I internalized that guilt: I thought I was the problem. But no—I was a child, and I deserved not to grow up in a household full of anger and fear and negativity. You deserved that too. You deserved to grow up safe and loved and treated with kindness.)

anyway back to more risk factors:

being neurodivergent or chronically ill (especially without receiving proper treatment/support/accommodation)

being queer (especially in a conservative or undiverse community, or without the support and acceptance of family & friends)

being the target of bullying or harassment (from peers, teachers, authority figures, irl, online, etc)

being isolated or alienated from peers, from family, from your wider community.

growing up with chronic anxiety, discomfort, pain, fear, or distress caused by any of the above and more.

There are many other experiences that can cause chronic trauma, but these are some particularly common ones I see people in my own community struggling with. And I want more people to be aware of this, because we’ve been taught to ignore and second-guess the significance of our traumatic experiences. We’ve been taught to feel guilty for our own pain, because “other people aren’t struggling, so I shouldn’t either” or (contradictorily) “other people have it worse, so I shouldn’t complain.” But that’s not how it works—you are not other people, and you deserve to have it better. We all deserve better. We deserve to be happy. We deserve not to be in pain.

I used to think I couldn’t have a trauma disorder because (I argued in my head) the things that happened to me weren’t that bad. And then I spent five years in therapy learning to accept the full extent of my issues. I’ve since learned that trauma comes in many forms, and can happen quietly, invisibly, silently, chronically, and usually without the survivor being aware of the long-term repercussions of what they are surviving. That revelation comes later, after you have survived and must instead learn to live.

Finally, no single type of trauma is more real or harmful than any other. Severity is measured by the way the individual is affected, and the same situations affect different people in different ways. Because no one gets to choose how their brain reacts to trauma. No one gets to choose their hurt—otherwise there would be a hell of a lot less hurting in the world.

We can, however, choose to seek help. We can learn to recognize when something is wrong, we can learn when to reach out to professionals, and we can learn to educate ourselves on our injuries.

And gradually, we can learn to heal.

(posts like this brought to you by ko-fi supporters)

#The way things are is not the way things will always be. So I have learned to trust.#i...i accidentally spent 4 1/2 HOURS writing this what the FUCK #long post #not a shitpost #serious post #mental health #c-ptsd #complex ptsd #trauma #ask to tag #i need to take a break and drink some tea #maybe with the fancy new tea biscuits i just bought #they have pecans and honey. i like honey #pecans are gross though except apparently in biscuits. these biscuits are really good #anyway let me know if you're worried I've misspoke or misrepresented anything here #again i'm not a professional. i'm just a person in therapy who has spent the last few years learning about and healing from complex trauma #and i wish i had known all of this years sooner. but i know it now so i'm putting it out there #bc i hope it helps someone dealing with the same things i dealt with.#i know things now that were painful to learn. and i will use them gently with great care #i wish i hadn't suffered the way i suffered. but since i have--how miraculous if i could use it to prevent others from suffering the same #that's the best thing to do with pain i think. turn it into something warm and blazing and try to use it to keep others warm #pain is like fire that way. you can burn yourself and others with it. or you can tame it and keep it in a jar and use it as a guiding light #For the Love of All the Fucks please notify me of typos

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kieraelieson · 3 years

Text

No Rest for the Deathworlders

Logan had always loved the stars.

Still did, though his love had been dampened by the way in which he was currently seeing them.

He watched out the window, or rather, screen, but it was made to show the outside of the ship, and thinking of it as a window was oddly comforting. A bit of something close to home.

A lump grew in his throat at the thought of home, pressing against the collar. He forced himself back to a neutral, tugging the collar away from the front of his throat as far as it would go. A brief flicker of anger replaced the nostalgia. Anger at the collar, at his own inability to remove it, at the monsters that had forced it onto him, at his own complacency now that it was on.

He didn’t have it as bad as some other humans did, he was well aware. All the collar did was teleport him to the location of the person holding the remote. Granted, it was unpleasant and incredibly disorienting, but nothing like the near-torture he’d heard was the more common method of keeping humans captive.

The captain of the ship was smart in choosing Logan, as far as the welfare of the ship went.

“You’re invested in your own survival,” He’d said through the translators. “If the ship goes down, you’ll go with it. If you sabotage the ship and try to escape on a pod, I can get you back to me immediately, and you’ll meet the same fate as you intended for us. It’s in your best interests to cooperate and to bond with the crew.”

Well, Logan could agree that it was in his best interests to cooperate. But no one could make him get attached to anyone. And no one could stop him from making little problems.

Like ignoring the insistent, “Human, where are you? Human!” that was coming from his communicator.

The window dissolved in front of him, and Logan felt abruptly as if he were on the world’s worst rollercoaster for several seconds. It took him a minute to register the angry captain now in front of him. He was yelling something, but not through the communicator, so Logan couldn’t understand what. And he was far too dizzy and almost nauseous to pay attention even if it was understandable.

He shook his head slowly from side to side and up and down once, hoping to clear the vertigo somewhat.

“You must come when called!” The communicator translated. “Or at least answer!”

Logan stubbornly remained silent, the dizziness gradually clearing.

For an alien that looked more like a slime monster than anything with a real face, the captain still managed to look extremely displeased. Not that Logan cared.

“There are ------ trailing our ship,” the captain said, one of his words not translating properly. “We need to go faster or we’ll get boarded.”

Ok, maybe Logan did care.

“Humans are supposed to be good at making ships go faster, fix it.”

Logan frowned. “I’ve been here three days,” he said into the communicator. “I hardly know how anything in the ship works, much less how to improve any of its functions!”

“I’ve studied humans, I know better than that, fix it.” The captain said shortly.

Logan opened his mouth to protest, but the room around him dissolved, the horrible spinning sensation back. His legs gave out and he dropped onto the floor in a different place.

He swallowed hard, his stomach threatening to upend itself.

“And they call you deathworlders,” someone scoffed. “A transporter has you on your knees.”

Beyond his sick feelings, and the anger at being mocked, he caught onto that plural reference. Was there another human on the ship?

In addition, there were apparently multiple remotes to the teleporter around his throat, which ruined his plan of trying to steal or fight the captain for the one.

He slowly sat up, his head still spinning. He hoped that his body would eventually grow accustomed to the teleportation and the dizziness would stop being so awful.

There was a chittering sound beside him that the translator didn’t attempt to process. He turned to see an alien that would likely be very tall if it wasn’t on all fours. It was very thin, with long arms and legs, which ended in smooth nubs, without hands or feet. The front two, which Logan thought of as arms, though the alien probably would have a different name for them, seemed to be perforated along the last six inches. As Logan watched, one of them was extended towards him slowly, and something softer could be seen on the inside. It was able to be extruded through the holes, and was likely the way in which the alien could grasp things.

He backed away from the limb before it could touch him, and the alien also backed away a step, making a low woody sounding whistle, like air blown over a jug. It’s head looked rather moth-like, with antenna that curled and straightened, and large eyes.

The alien seemed sentient, though Logan was confused that the translator wasn’t picking up on its speech.

Until he saw a very familiar collar, only around their waist. They were also captive then. And possibly, though it disappointed his hopes of meeting another human, they were the other deathworlder, also affected poorly by the teleportation.

The strange attempted touch then, could have potentially been intended as comfort or aid.

“You’ve been sitting long enough, get this ship to move faster,” the other alien in the room grumbled.

Logan glared. “How am I even supposed to do that?” He snapped. “I don’t have training or experience, I don’t know what half this stuff is and I can’t read your labels!”

“You can either fix it now, or we can teleport you between here and the captain until you do.” The alien's tone was disgusting and wet, and Logan was glad he could focus on the robot sound of the translator as his stomach lurched again.

He could try.

If nothing else, he might learn some new things and be able to convince them that he really wasn’t able to just do things he’d never tried before.

The room was smaller than he would’ve expected, presuming he was in a kind of engine room. Around the edges of the room were a number of bins, holding substances ranging from powders to liquids.

In the center of the room was a glass tube that went from floor to ceiling, and seemed to be filled with a glowing crystal stalagmite. From the top of the tube dripped some kind of liquid, and at the bottom it flowed out in small pipes, glowing the same as the crystal and possibly converted into fuel.

He could assume that with all of the powders and liquids that there was a chemical reaction causing the substance to obtain the glowing quality and become fuel. But what that was, and how to know what was safe to change about it, he had no idea.

“Well?” The alien, whom he now assumed to be what served as the ship’s engineer, asked.

He was making so many assumptions, and still was barely anywhere. They could all be wrong.

“Explain to me how it works,” Logan said. “Then I’ll try to ‘fix’ it.”

The alien made an unpleasant sound that the translator interpreted as a sigh. “This is a ——-, the liquid is a mixture of ——, ——, ——-, and ——, but it could be made with any of the ——— family instead of the ———, or you could replace the ———- with ——— for better efficiency at different energy levels. We also have several forms of ———-, which ought to make more potent fuel for higher speeds, but every time we’ve tried the ———- smokes and explodes and there’s residue in the tubing for several rotations which puts us at a standstill.”

Logan grimaced. He had a very small idea of what was being said based on gestures, but he’d much prefer to have names and details. It seemed this was a very large and dangerous version of chemistry experiments, with no textbook, and his only advice coming from someone who hadn’t studied.

Well, there was the other ‘deathworlder’ in the room. He could only hope they knew something about any of this. Though the difficulty in communication might make that knowledge impossible to access.

He turned towards them anyway. “Can you understand me at all?”

They made another low whistling sound, followed by chittering. One arm waved, with… could he call them fingers? gesturing towards Logan.

He hoped desperately that he could consider that to be a yes.

“What would you do in—“

The engineer’s communicator interrupted him. “We thought we’d have a few more rotations but they’re closing in, has the human done anything yet?”

“No,” the engineer said. “It’s just staring at everything.”

“Well get it to hurry!”

The other ‘deathworlder’ made a long series of noises, pointing at one bin in particular and then at a place where it seemed the not-yet-fuel liquid was.

It was a foolish thing. A very foolish thing. But Logan took a scoop from the bin and dumped the powder into the liquid.

It bubbled and fizzed on contact, sending up thick clouds of a dark blue smoke.

An alarm blared.

The ship lurched, knocking them all to the ground.

And then the new ingredient actually hit the crystal, and there was a loud, high pitched ringing.

Logan covered his ears and shut his eyes, feeling like a weight was pressing him to the floor.

Everything was spinning, and loud, and then it was loud in a very different, but no less painful way.

“Protect me!” The captain shrieked.

There was a pained, screeching scream.

Logan was shoved, but he was barely aware of which direction, let alone what he was supposed to do about any of it.

Something grabbed onto his shoulders, and he flailed, hitting and kicking indiscriminately. Something burned on his side, and he kicked into something much more solid, sending a throbbing pain up his leg.

Everything was noise and pain and lights and movement and he didn’t understand any of it!

Logan struck out blindly at anything that came near him.

He thought he’d backed into a wall, but something must’ve been behind him, and it hit him hard over the head. He dropped to the floor, tears swimming in his eyes and blurring everything even further.

Everything dissolved around him and he was falling, spinning, dropping, tossed.

He was grateful more than anything when unconsciousness took him.

•^*^••

He woke slowly, feeling hazy and heavy. It was quiet, and not too bright, nothing was touching him. So he didn’t bother to open his eyes, just laying still.

He wasn’t dead at least.

Probably the pirates had attacked. Definitely he’d ruined the ship he’d been on.

The question was, was being with pirates any better than living on a ruined ship with aliens that considered him to be some kind of hyper-intelligent slave?

Or perhaps the question was, where was he now?

He forced his eyes open.

He was in a relatively large, empty room. The floor and walls seemed bare, though patched, not all of a single material.

He pushed himself up. There was a loud skittering noise away from him, and he yelped, flinging himself away clumsily.

He turned, and saw the other deathworlder, front legs shaking and making a rattling noise. He wasn’t sure if it was a fear response, a method of communication, or even some kind of threat display.

“It’s alright,” he said quietly, backing up a little farther.

The other alien didn’t try to come close again, so he figured it was mostly likely not interested in threatening him. There wasn’t an echo of his words in an alien language though, and he patted his shoulder to discover that the translator had been taken. His hand went to his throat, disappointed to find that they’d left the collar.

It was still there on the other alien also. They were both still prisoners then, wherever they were.

Looking around, it seemed that they were in an empty cargo space, rather than a proper holding cell, so there was a slightly greater possibility of escape.

There was that low whistling sound again. Logan was certain it was meant as a form of communication.

He tried whistling back, as low as he was capable of.

The alien chittered and shook its legs again, but Logan couldn’t tell even if it was a positive or negative reaction.

“I… don’t know how to talk with you,” he said, keeping his tone low and calm. He sat in a comfortable, loose position, hoping to get across the calm in his tone and posture. “But I’d like to try. I’m not sure what anything you’re doing means, and it’s possible you’re in the same situation. I’m hoping that you have more knowledge of humans than I do of your kind, and that you’ll be able to make better inferences than I’m currently capable of.”

The alien cocked its head to the side, watching him as he spoke. It took a tentative step forward on its spindly legs, and then propped itself on three, holding the fourth out to him.

Logan eyed the appendage. The softer inside substance was filling the holes, making it appear to have small bumps, rather than holes. He held out a hand to it, but didn’t try to touch.

The alien bumped the end of its leg into Logan’s palm.

That seemed… good? Perhaps this was a greeting similar to a handshake?

Logan very gently grasped the end of the appendage, the softer inside substance feeling cool to the touch, and almost like a stiff putty, whereas the harder outer shell felt very smooth and rigid, similar to metal, but light.

The alien retracted their arm, and then looked between their arm and his hand. The inner substance reformed, pressing out from several holes into a clear attempt at fingers. It seemed to be fully controlled by the alien, and moveable, albeit much more slowly than Logan could move his own fingers.

“That’s very impressive,” Logan said.

The alien chittered back at him.

Perhaps they could get somewhere through a kind of charades.

•^*^••

“I think that’s all we can carry,” Roman said, looking over the wreckage.

“We can hold more, we aren’t full yet,” Remus protested, still sad that some of the ship’s inhabitants had taken the escape pods. Aside from the power crystal, which was far too unstable to take, they were the best value on the little ship.

“The whole 3rd cargo bay is empty for the two deathworlders, we’re full.” Roman insisted.

“Oh. Forgot about them. Well, if we can hold ‘em, they might be enough to make it worth it.”

“If we can refill,” Roman grumbled. “I was expecting usable power from this ship.”

It had really been a not-very-great raid. They’d lost Aide, and Bill, and Rahgezis, and hadn’t even gotten much of anything good out of it.

And the deathworlders were far too grumpy to join the crew. If they’d had enough room they would’ve separated them, but he just took away the translators and hoped they weren’t already pack-bonded, and wouldn’t become so. Two single deathworlders were bad enough, two together? Their ship would be a wreck from the inside out.

They needed to give them a rotation or two to calm down, try and have a talk, and then drop them off at the nearest Embassy and get away before bad things happened.

Maybe the Embassy would even pay them for handing over deathworlders. Or maybe they’d arrest them for being pirates.

But without Rahgezis, Remus didn’t want to attempt anything on the black market with such a high demand as deathworlders.

And the teleportation bands should make it a little easier on them. They were super old, and no one in their right mind would use them, except as a practical joke, or a way of keeping enemies too off balance to attack. The ones on the two of them had been fused closed, rather than the usual buckle, so he felt more safe trying to hold the deathworlders than he would otherwise.

They’d only found one remote, but Inshes was already working on making a second.

“I’m going to see if the Scraascik is on any registries,” Roman said. “And I’ll check for the Human, but that’s less likely.”

Remus nodded. “I’ll handle getting us moving again. If they’re awake, maybe you could see about dropping some food into the cargo bay.”

“Yeah, I’ll try.” Roman sighed.

Remus set a claw on Roman’s back. Roman grumbled, leaning into Remus’s side, and then went off to do his research.

It’d been a hard day for both of them.

•^*^••

They’d managed to exchange names… sort of. The alien’s name was two notes, whistled lower than Logan was capable of, and likewise there was no way of the alien being able to pronounce the word Logan.

But the alien made a deep, almost resonant sound, that was as close as it seemed they could get to anything involving vocal cords. And that was their version of Logan.

Logan considered the two note sound, and came up with a slightly similar-sounding name. Virgil.

Neither of their names for each other were really very similar to their actual names, but they were able to understand each other, and that was what mattered.

As it turned out, Virgil was stronger than he was at pushing things, or hitting, but they couldn’t pull with any strength.

Logan was focusing his attention on the door, and had been so far unsuccessful in prying it open. It was solidly locked, and the lock seemed to only be on the other side of the door. Which likely meant that this room was detachable from the rest of the ship, in case of emergency or danger.

“Virgil.” Logan said, and Virgil turned to look at him from the patch on the wall they’d been inspecting.

Logan hit the door with his palm, his arm straight, in an imitation of the way he’d seen Virgil hit some of the patches, trying to break them. “Hit here.” He pointed at Virgil, and then at a spot where he suspected the lock was.

Virgil made a chittering sound and shambled over.

Logan again mimicked the strike, and then pointed at Virgil.

Virgil got into position. They were able to balance on three legs and rock their whole body weight forward to strike that small point their arm hit with all their strength and weight together.

They tried three times, but the door held firm.

Logan was impressed that they did not seem hurt by the attempt. Their exoskeleton must be very strong indeed. Which was possibly a part of why they were considered a deathworlder.

Logan wondered what their home planet was like.

The door suddenly opened, an alien clearly holding up one of the remotes to the teleporters.

Virgil backed away, turning and running to the other end of the room.

The alien spoke into a small microphone, which translated. “I brought food. Don’t come near me.”

The alien’s body looked almost bear-like, but with longer legs, clearly bipedal. They were only about half the size of a bear though. The fur also was shorter and sparser, and a very reddish kind of brown. The hands looked more useful than a bear’s paws as well. The head though was very unlike a bear’s. Logan didn’t know what to compare it to.

The alien was wearing clothes, which Logan had learned was entirely optional to most aliens, in bright reds and goldish yellows.

Perhaps this meant that this particular alien was more… Logan hesitated to say civilized. He scarcely knew anything about aliens, and could hardly make such judgements about them. Still, he believed he had a bit more chance reasoning with this one.

“Let us out of here,” he said, grateful that the translator picked it up and interpreted it.

“No.”

“We will leave you alone, we will not harm the ship. Let us go,” Logan said calmly but firmly.

The alien again said no, pushing in a tray of what could be food into the room with their foot, already starting to close the door.

“Wait!” Logan said, stepping forward.

The alien jumped, and pushed the button on the remote.

It didn’t seem to affect Logan, but instead Virgil was teleported close to the door. Virgil stumbled, falling against the wall and letting out what could only be described as a scream.

The alien who had delivered food looked even more scared now, and quickly shut the door. Logan pushed through his shock and alarm to try to open the door before it could be locked, but he was too late.

Virgil slumped to the ground, scream fading to a whistling wheeze.

As bad as the teleportation felt to him, Logan was scared that Virgil was being injured by it. Perhaps on the inside, where they were softer. Or perhaps it put too much strain on their rigid exoskeleton.

Was there anything he could do? He didn’t have any idea about what Virgil could need for medical care, and he didn’t want an attempt at comfort to be construed as an attack, especially while Virgil was vulnerable.

He knelt close to Virgil, a bit farther than an arm's length.

“Virgil?”

Virgil’s eyes opened, and from this close Logan could see the differentiation between pupil and iris. Virgil’s eyes were moving back and forth, like Logan had seen before in children who’d been spun in circles. He was likely still extremely disoriented then.

Virgil lifted one arm and waved it around slowly. It knocked into Logan’s shoulder lightly, and Virgil kept tapping it against his shoulders and head. Logan allowed it without complaint, guessing that it was grounding to Virgil, being able to verify that Logan was in one place and not moving, not spinning.

Virgil gradually steadied, taking their arm back.

Logan wished he had a way to ask ‘are you ok?’, but he didn’t. The best he had was, “Virgil?”

The whistle-clack he got in return seemed more positive than negative, though he had no way of accurately judging alien tones.

“Logan.”

Logan nodded, as it seemed the correct response.

Virgil pointed towards the nearly-forgotten tray, and Logan went to get it. Virgil struggled to their feet, looking something like a very large baby deer first trying to stand. If Logan had to guess, Virgil’s kind didn’t frequently sit or lie down.

The tray had a number of small round roll-like things that Logan was now accustomed to seeing. They were similar to banana bread in texture, but the taste was salty and rather bitter. When he’d asked, he’d been told that they were the standard in rations as they kept for a long time, and held an array of nutrients that was sufficient for the basic needs of a majority of species.

He suspected that he would require some greens or fruit if he continued eating these primarily, but he hadn’t seen any anywhere, only these.

Virgil stood over him and leaned down as much as they seemed easily capable of, which still left their head several feet above the ground. Logan was just wondering if they would need assistance to eat when a very long tongue, or perhaps proboscis, unrolled from their mouth and curled around one of the rolls, pulling it up into their mouth.

“What do you eat natively?” Logan wondered aloud. “And do you need water?”

There was a pitcher of water and two small cups. Logan poured one cup full and held it out to Virgil.

Virgil seemed to still be chewing, however, and incapable of drinking while doing so. Or perhaps they didn’t require water. Though, now that Logan was watching, he didn’t believe they were chewing at all. Certainly there was no jaw movement. They could be massaging the food with their tongue, and have particularly effective saliva perhaps.

Logan started eating a roll, setting Virgil’s cup down and filling the other for himself.

A minute later Virgil’s tongue unrolled again and drained the cup, seemingly effective as a massive straw.

“You really are fascinating,” Logan said softly. “Were we not in such a situation I would love to learn more about you.”

Virgil responded with a series of clicks and whistles.

“As it is though, we probably ought to attempt an escape. They haven’t tried to get anything from us, which makes me think they intend on trafficking us further. Most likely they don’t have the power to force us into work like the last ship did, so I think, despite the danger, that this will be our best chance. Of course, the danger is greater for you, the teleportation seems to hurt you much more than it does me.” Logan thought for a while. “I think our best bet would be to try forcing our way out the door the next time it opens. Perhaps one of us could knock the remote away. It is enlightening to know that the remote only works on one of us at a time.”

Logan sighed. “Of course we don’t know when or if they’ll enter again. It’s possible we’ll be held here until we reach wherever we’re going.”

Virgil made a low, soft whistle.

Logan laid on his back. “I can’t even properly ask you for your partnership. It’s infuriating to not be able to succeed at anything I attempt. There’s such a wealth of knowledge that is necessary, and I have no idea of any of it. Nor a way of learning, save through painful experience. I can’t become complacent, I have to effect change, but I never know when my efforts will be simply overturned.”

Virgil nudged his arm with their own.

Logan turned to look at them. Virgil chittered at him, bobbing up and down on their legs.

“What is it?”

“Logan.” Virgil said, still bobbing up and down.

Logan sat up. “I don’t understand.”

Virgil tapped his legs with their arm. “Logan.”

Logan stood up. “Is this what you want? Oh. If you don’t lay down to sleep, you must’ve been concerned when I did. I’ll have to sleep sometime though, and surely you’ve been exposed to aliens that lay down to sleep.”

But rather than relaxing, as Logan would assume Virgil would do if they were concerned, Virgil stepped closer, almost over Logan. Their antenna tilted towards him.

“Oh I see, this would be how you would confirm that I’m healthy, by feeling with your antenna, yes?” Logan remained still, unsurprised when there was a soft touch on his head.

But he was not at all expecting the sudden mental image of himself tackling the alien who’d delivered the food. It was so vivid it was as if he was already doing it, seeing the door open, tackling the alien, smashing the remote, and running forward to climb onto Virgil’s back as Virgil ran them both through the hallway.

Logan jerked back, falling on his butt. “What was that?! You have telepathy??”

Virgil made a movement that could be best described as a shrug.

Logan stood up again, reaching his hand out, battling his speed from excitement in an attempt not to scare Virgil. “Can we do it again?”

Virgil brushed his hand with their antenna, and the same scene flashed before his mind’s eye.

“Yes, yes I’ll do that! Can you understand my answer?”

Virgil made a whistle that Logan was almost certain was affirmative.

Logan paced back and forth excitedly, thinking out loud. “So you can communicate with me even if I can’t communicate with you well. And you very much want my partnership in escaping. We have a plan now. And a form of communication. Virgil, this is amazing!”

Virgil made an almost trilling noise.

•^*^••

“No, it hurt the Scraascik,” Roman said, already changing the ship’s course. “We can’t hold them safely, we have to get to the Embassy.”

“We didn’t even ask them to join us yet!” Remus protested.

“Would you join a strange crew after they hurt you?” Roman retorted, sending a message to the engine room to increase speed.

“Well what about the other one?”

“Remus. It won’t work.” Roman glared at him. “I don’t want to take chances with deathworlders.”

Remus sighed. “Fine. But let me try talking to them before we get there.”

Roman’s face went hard. “You have until we arrive,” he finally conceded.

Remus hurried down to the cargo bay.

He burst the door open, and it slammed shut behind him. Both deathworlders jolted, staring at him.

He then realized that he’d entirely forgotten the remote and the duplicate, and also that he was locked in a room with two deathworlders.

Well, there was a reason people joked he was addicted to adrenaline.

“Hello!” He said, waving. “I’m wondering if you’ll join my crew.”

The human moved first, standing up to a height decently taller than Remus was. And the Scraascik was even larger.

Perhaps he really was in serious danger.

“We just want to leave,” the human said, sounding rather threatening.

Probably telling them about the plan to hand them over to the Embassy then wasn’t a good idea until he was sure that he wasn’t in attack distance anymore. “You can, leave with us. Join our crew and you can adventure with us, raid ships, explore planets!”

“We want to leave alone,” the human said firmly.

“We? So… you bonded then? I guess that rumor is true, deathworlders all really do bond super fast.”

The human bared its teeth at him. “I will not be bonding to your crew based on your desires. I will not remain here, I want to leave. We want to leave.”

The Scraascik agreed in some of the most heavily accented Common Remus had ever heard. No wonder the translators hadn’t picked up any of his yelling when they’d boarded the ship. He’d probably need a translator to touch his antenna, but good luck getting a Scraascik to let anything touch their antenna.

“So you won’t even consider it?” Remus asked, not yet daunted.

“You’ve essentially kidnapped us, and both can and have hurt us! Why would I consider it?”

Yikes, the human sounded angry.

“Well we didn’t mean to hurt you, really, it’s not meant to be that bad. And we only kidnapped you from other kidnappers, and also I can’t hurt you cause I forgot the remote.”

The two deathworlders looked at each other, and Remus knew he really had gone and shoved his whole fist in his mouth. The human shifted position to a much more threatening crouch, as if it was going to pounce on him.

Remus held his arms out, claws at the ready. He might not have a hope of winning against deathworlders, but he could certainly make himself a pain of a target.

“I know I’m a pirate, but this was supposed to be just a talk,” Remus said, wondering if he’d be able to hit the communicator in time and if rescue was possible. Violent deathworlders in an enclosed space was not something he wanted his crew walking into, even for a rescue.

“It’s not much of a talk when we don’t have a say,” the human said, looking more and more threatening every second.

Iaoth , he wanted this human on his crew.

“Of course you have a say!” Remus said. “Name it, what position do you want, what pay, days off, I’ll give you whatever room in the ship you want as your quarters.”

“I fundamentally disagree with joining people that would knowingly traffic other people,” the human growled.

And then it leapt forward.

Remus yelped, swiping at the human and hitting the communicator with his other hand. “Roman!”

He was tackled to the ground, and the Scraascik pinned one arm while the human sat on his middle and held his other arm down.

“Remus?!” Roman’s voice came through the communicator.

“Let us go,” the human growled. “Once we’re out we’ll let them go.”

There was a tremor to the floor that Remus recognized. Roman must have been overloading the engine, they’d arrived and were docking.

“Is Remus ok?” Roman asked, sounding terrified.

“I’m fine, just a little stuck,” Remus said, trying to not sound scared so Roman wouldn’t get even more worried. “Laying under a deathworlder~ not quite as fun as I always imagined.”

Roman made a sound somewhere between a sob and laugh. “I’m coming to let you out. Don’t hurt him. Please.”

Remus was honestly a bit surprised that he was only pinned. The human was leaking blood from its shoulder and across its chest where Remus’s swipe had connected, but it hadn’t retaliated.

“Hurry,” the human said coldly.

The communicator turned off, and Remus had a strong suspicion Roman was calling the Embassy to have guards outside the ship when the cargo hold was opened.

“You sure you don’t want to join us?” Remus asked. “I know it won’t look like it from your end, but we don’t traffic, we take from ships we attack, but we’d either let them join us or take them to the authorities, we don’t just continue the traffic. And we could use people like you, you could help us take down so many more ships.”

The Scraascik leaned harder on his arm, and Remus grimaced.

“What would the authorities do?” The human asked.

“Uhhhh… well with the Scraascik, probably drop him back on his own planet, or with a Scraascik colony. Your planet though is still restricted, so they’d probably keep you until it’s opened.”

The human’s face contorted into something that did not look good for Remus.

“We’re on our way there, aren’t we?”

Remus wasn’t sure he dared lie, not when he was pinned to the ground with two very angry-seeming deathworlders over him. “Yeah.”

The human hit the communicator. “Listen.”

“I’m listening,” Roman said warily.

“Don’t open the cargo hold,” the human ordered. “You’re a pirate ship. You have smaller ships for scavenging, yes?”

“…yes.”

“Give us one.”

There was a long pause from Roman.

“Put food and fuel and translators in it,” the human said firmly. “We’re taking this one with us until we’re safely inside.”

This was probably wrecking Roman’s plans. There would be authorities involved and now no deathworlders to give them.

“Alright,” Roman said.

•^*^••

The door to the cargo hold was opened. Logan had the bear-alien in a tight hold, and Virgil was above them, looking like they were ready to strike out at anything that got within range.

They managed to walk along the halls until they reached the smaller ship. Logan had no idea how he was going to fly it, but it was the biggest chance by far that he’d had yet.

He shoved the bear alien away and slammed the door shut.

Virgil went immediately to the pilot’s seat, and Logan was amazed to see that there were places in the ceiling that fit their antenna. Soon there was a fast and loud humming, and the tiny ship lurched into motion.

•^*^••

Patton was being sent, since they didn’t really believe that there could be a Human and a Scraascik on the cobbled-together ship that had docked. So it was just him and Janus.

Janus wrapped his long tail around the back of Patton’s neck for balance as Patton walked back and forth, waiting for the ship to open its cargo bay.

It sure was taking a long time. They’d seemed so rushed when they called, but now they just wouldn’t open.

And then there was an engine powering up.

A teeny little scavenging ship took off from the bigger one, flying off. Patton scanned it, alarmed to see that there was indeed a Scraascik and a Human signature on board.

“Hey! Hey wait!”

He pulled out his radio, quickly setting it to the bigger ship’s frequency. “Let me in and go after them! We can’t let a Human go flying around unattended!”

“If they don’t let us in fast, go take the SC Meteor,” Janus said.

Patton wasn’t too surprised when the ship started undocking without answering him.

“We’ll get them!” He yelled, running for the Meteor.

#Forgot I meant to post this on tumblr and never did 😅#my own work #sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #humans are space orcs

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shreddedparchment · 3 years

Text

A Wife for Thor Pt.23

A Royal Invitation

05/02/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 5,960

Warnings: fluff, slight angst, language

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this one. It took me forever to get out after several life events that just couldn’t be ignored or put on the back burner. I had a lot of fun in the second half of this chapter and I hope y’all find it as entertaining as I did. Let me know what your favorite parts are! I’d love to know. As always, thanks for reblogging if you happen to do so. xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on any other sites or blogs.

REBLOGS are always welcome!

The city is in celebration for three nights after you come home.

They’re not necessarily celebrating your return although that is part of why they’re happy, but the baby. The baby is already so loved. The baby is the city’s hope and future.

You can feel their exuberance when you and Thor take a walk through the city, flanked by Valkyrie with Loki on your left walking just slightly behind you.

He’s busy but smug and keeps his fingers moving swiftly across the screen of a tablet provided by Tony Stark who’d left the city taking Bruce with him back to the United States on Avengers business.

What Loki is doing, what's got him so glued to his tablet, you don’t find out until the evening of the first day of celebrations.

As your people’s cheers, laughter, and music filter in through the long wall of windows that Thor’s had thrown open to let the joviality in, Loki crosses to the long couch across from the one where you sit with Thor.

Legs thrown across his lap, Thor’s hands gently massaging your calves and feet, you lean back against the cushions that Thor set up against the arm for you.

The sitting room is long, rectangular and faces the East side of the palace. You can’t see the entire city and have more of a mountain view than on the West side where your rooms are and you can see the expanse of the ocean.

Like the rest of the palace, it’s decorated in a mixture of wood and silver steel. The chandeliers above are carefully carved and wired, the lighting kept dim. The seats are also wood but covered with soft cushions for lounging and restful naps.

There’s a slightly simpler look to this sitting room. Relaxed.

Before you’d taken your break from being Queen, you hadn’t spent much time in this part of the palace. Nothing had called to you. The garden had been the only spot you’d sought out but this sitting room is quickly becoming your favorite.

“I like it in here,” you confess, smiling at Thor who’s still squeezing your foot gently.

He smiles and meets your gaze, “Why’s that?”

“Because Jane was never in here,” Loki supplies, swiping left on his tablet then turns it to face both of you. “We’ve got more energy signatures. New ones.”

You and Thor sit up a little straighter.

“What quadrant?”

Loki purses his lips and then turns the tablet back towards himself cutting off your look at a map of the night sky.

“All of them. Whatever it is, it’s jumping around. I think perhaps they know we’re watching.”

Swallowing hard, you scoot closer to Thor, pulling one of your legs down as you twist to face Loki a little better. Thor takes hold of your thigh instead as it rests over his and wraps his other arm around your waist, eager to have you close.

Both of you haven’t stopped touching each other since your return last night.

“What does that mean? If they’re trying to confuse us, then they’re headed for us, right?”

“I won’t let anything happen to you or our little one, cherub,” Thor’s reassurance comes softly, his smile confident but soft. “Whatever this is, we’ll be ready for it. Have you sent the data to the others?”

“Sif is coming in for a debrief and we’ll send her to relay the specifics in person. It will need some explanation and Fandral will probably only skim the information if we send it to him via email.”

“We must have all of our troops trained for whatever attack is to come. I’m not going to let someone jeopardize our place here on Earth. We will protect our people but we will show the humans that we will defend them too from any threats to come,” Thor declares, his voice deep and determined, even angry.

He doesn’t like someone threatening his new home. Not after what happened to Asgard. The stress is in his eyes and you lean against him which you’re glad does what you want.

It distracts him.

“I had Stark build you a safe room. He called it a panic room, I think? So, should something happen, you’re to go in there and lock yourself in while we deal with any threat.”

You nod but push yourself back again to rest against the arm of the sofa while stretching out your legs again. It feels good and you sigh heavily as you rub your belly. Sitting scrunched up like that had been annoying.

“I have been training though. Even pregnant. At home, Loki would spar with me and help me with my technique. The short swords aren’t heavy anymore.”

Thor looks at his brother who sits smiling proudly at you before he notices the edge in Thor’s electric blue eye.

“It was all done safely. She and the baby were never in danger. I thought it was foolish to have her out there without her swords and the training to go along with them. Just because she left didn’t mean that she could slack off. Don’t give me that look. You know as well as I do that she needs to know. Even carrying your child, it’s important for her to know. One might even say especially because she's carrying the heir."

Loki’s voice grows steadily more subdued. Sad. Like a bad memory is playing itself over in his mind.

“I was too late, Loki,” Thor interjects, drawing your gaze to him too. He also looks sad. “And if you hadn’t been in that cell you’d have been long gone. Neither of us could have saved her. And you’re right. I know how important it is.”

Thor looks at you and takes your feet back in his hands, “I’m glad you trained. Once our child is born you’ll have to show me those skills of yours.”

Despite the playful nature of his taunt, you can see that he and Loki are both still in the depths of their grief. They must be thinking of their mother.

"So, these energy signatures, you still have no idea who could be causing them?"

The question is pointless. You know they don't know but it's something to say when all you can do is worry silently.

“I have theories,” Loki admits, exchanging a careful look with Thor. “But nothing concrete. Nothing that would put you at ease.”

“I don’t need to be put at ease, Loki. I need to know if there’s something to worry about. This doesn’t just affect our family but our people. If we need to warn them, we can’t be hesitant. Earth deserves a heads up, too.”

This is your job right? The voice of both your new Asgardian family and the people of Earth? This is why you were required to marry Thor.

Thor’s hand increases in strength around your foot as he tries to calm you.

“You’re right, cherub. Loki only means that there is no evidence to prove his theories so until we can find something to link these strange power surges to what he thinks it might be, then we should play this safe and hold off on raising any alarms. Isn’t that right, Loki?”

“Mm,” Loki agrees, nodding.

You frown, pulling your leg off of Thor’s lap to sit down properly and face both brothers. They sit up a little straighter in response to your own rigid back, your hands on your lap.

This isn’t right, whatever they might think.

“No,” you shake your head and watch as Loki puts his tablet down.

Thor scoots forward, reaching over to take your hand. You let him because he’s not trying to comfort you anymore. Instead, this reach is one of support and when you look at his singular eye, the patch on his empty socket gleaming softly in the dim light of the room, you can see he’s intent on listening and understanding.

If Jane has made any positive impact on you and Thor, it’s this. He’s really listening to you.

“Thor, you and the Asgardians are a unique people. You’ve all had it hard and I’m not trying to say that your struggles haven’t been difficult, but by nature, just by the very way that you all are made and born, you are stronger. It’s in your body’s makeup.

“For someone like me, if I were to jump from that open window, I would die. If you or any of the other Asgardians jumped from that window, you’d probably ache for a while, maybe a few would even get a few broken bones or cuts but they’d be superficial wounds.

“You know from experience how fragile humans are. Both of you,” the look you give Loki pulls his gaze down to his feet. “We’re unprepared for anything other than each other. We need more of a warning than you. We need time to prepare.”

It all falls into place in your head and with confidence you turn to look at Thor, turning your hand over to take his in your own hand.

With a quick squeeze, you scoot just a little closer to him, “Thor, I need to speak to the ambassadors. We need to schedule an official meeting to give them the rundown on what we’ve been doing here and what we’re keeping an eye on. Because, knowing Tony, I’m sure he hasn’t said anything to anyone outside of the compound?”

Loki sits back, crossing his legs as he shuts his tablet off, “No. Stark is as preoccupied about raising the alarm as we are. But now that you mention it, I suppose both we and he are not looking at this from a regular civilian of Earth’s point of view.”

“Y/N,” Thor calls your attention back to him, “This could backfire. We could be doing more harm than good by sharing with them the information we’ve gathered.”

You shake your head, “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m jumping the gun here. The last thing I want to do is cause a panic. But I don't think that’ll happen. It’s not like we’re going to leak it onto the internet. We’re going to meet with the ambassadors and provide this information to world leaders so that they can prepare the way they see fit. Trust me, these prime ministers and presidents and kings aren’t going to just announce to their people that some alien threat is on the way. They don’t want to look out of control or unprepared.

“We need to give Earth’s humans a chance to defend themselves. Even if they end up needing our help, they deserve to know.”

Loki and Thor are silent for what feels to you like a long time. In reality, you know it must only be seconds. However, this is the first time you’ve pushed back with them. This is the first time you’re speaking on behalf of the human race.

It makes you nervous and anxious. Will they let you be Queen in this sense? Or is it all just show?

They look at each other, staring and communicating silently before Loki gets to his feet and turns his tablet back on.

“Well, if I’m to set up a meeting with the ambassadors, NATO, and the UN I should probably get started.”

Your heart explodes with pride. They’re letting you really rule! You’re making a difference. True change. Your excitement mingles with a sudden terror as you realize that your choices are going to affect what will be millions if not billions of people.

Luckily, Loki’s words also serve to distract you from your trepidation.

“Wait, Loki,” you hurry to your feet and scurry to his side before ripping the tablet from his hands and hiding it behind your back.

“Hey,” he protests, reaching around you to try and grab it.

You hurry back to Thor and instead of sitting beside him you plop yourself onto his lap and sit as close as you can to trap the tablet between your bodies.

You can hear Thor’s heart begin to pound. Aside from those kisses yesterday, this is the closest you’ve put yourself to him since you got back. He’d slept with you in your shared bedroom, but he’d laid facing you and you him, a good six inches between your bodies.

He wraps his arms around you, placing his hands along the swell of your tummy. You can almost feel him glowing with happiness.

“As eager as I am to give Earth a heads up, I also think you need a break. The energy isn’t going anywhere and the Warriors Three and Sif are on the watch. Please do me a big favor and just take a day or two? You’ve been at it like crazy since I left the palace and it would make me so happy if my baby’s Uncle Loki would take a breather. He’s gotta be strong and in tip-top shape if he’s going to keep up with his future nephew.”

“Or niece,” Thor interjects. “She’s right, Loki. Rest. We’ll get back on this in two days and you can set everything up then. The city is roaring with celebration. Go out and enjoy it. You always loved a good party.”

Loki glares at the pair of you, “Using the future prince or princess is blackmail. And if I’m out there, what will you two do?”

Thor smiles at him, reaching between your bodies to grab the tablet from where it’s hidden. He sets it aside and his other hand trails over your side before wrapping around your waist to cup your bump again.

“I’m sure my queen and I will find something to keep us occupied. Making up for lost time, perhaps?”

Your neck burns but you grin up at Loki who fixes you with a knowing smile, “Of course. How silly of me. Well, let me not keep you from reacquainting yourselves with each other. If you have need of me, I will be around. Just call.”

“Have fun, Loki,” you call after him.

As he shuts the door, Thor tilts your head to the side, pulling you back against his chest fully so that he can kiss you without prompting.

“Sleeping beside you once more was dreamlike, cherub,” Thor tells you, low and full of want.

“And what would make it more real for you?”

“Shall I show you?”

And he waits, like the jerk that he is. He literally just dangles the carrot in front of you. His hard body pressed against your back, the heat of his legs seeping through your clothes to your skin.

His hands trace tantalizing circles around your stomach but make the slightest tickles to the fold of your pelvis. You hate him!

“Oh my god, hurry up, dummy.”

That’s all the invitation he needs. In an instant you’re in his arms as he settles you on the sofa, his hands already yanking and pulling at your clothes but when your tummy is exposed, he drops to his knees and worships your pregnant body with gentility and softness.

At least until you growl and yank him up to finish what he’s started.

~~~~~~~~~~

The sheets against your skin feel soft as silk. They’re slightly sticky but that’s more to do with your own body’s sweat.

“Why are you up?” Thor’s voice is heavy with sleep.

It’s thick and rough. It makes you smile and your ears burn because he sounds delicious and you missed mornings like this.

“I’m hungry,” you admit.

Thor tumbles from the bed, dragging with him the heavier faux fur blanket that sits at the foot of your bed for decoration usually. He wraps it around his waist and pulls the cord by the door.

“I already called them, puppy,” you assure him, and he smiles sleepily at you before moving towards you.

“I missed my term of endearment. Why a dog?”

As he reaches you, you open your sheet and his eyes roam the length of your naked body before he gets all handsy and dives into the sheet with you, eventually settling his hands on your bum. No groping, just resting. Then slowly he trails his fingers up along the sides of your back up to your shoulders and back down.

It leaves your skin full of goosebumps and you shiver. He misinterprets it and instead of stopping his stroking, he uses his flat hand to create friction instead.

“It’s not a dog, it’s a puppy. They’re cute and they’re kinda, I don’t know, like...clueless?” You laugh because that’s not the word you were looking for but it’s what comes out.

“Uh, excuse me, I have plenty of clues,” Thor argues, but he doesn’t seem offended.

“That’s not the right word,” you laugh again. “I don’t know how to describe it. I just want to squeeze you and cuddle you because you’re like this big blonde golden retriever only sexier.”

Thor makes his thinking face as he tries to pull up the picture of the dog breed you just compared him to, and he nods slowly.

“I think I can live with that,” Thor smiles down at you then leans to meet your lips.

You kiss him eagerly, your bodies both humming with anticipation even though you spent the last two days--practically--in bed.

Both of you know that there’s a time when this lust might not necessarily fade but dull a bit? Then again, it is Thor and he’s ravenous for you almost all the time.

You chuckle against his lips and he pulls back to look at you.

“What has you laughing so adorably?”

You let go of the sheet and before it can fall, Thor replaces your hands with his own to hold it up around you both. With free hands you’re able to trace the length of his arms, tracing the large curves. His skin is so damn soft.

You’re still not sure if that’s a Thor thing or an Asgardian God thing? What you know is that you love it and your fingers eat it up every time you touch him.

Whatever laugh or trace of humor you had falls away as you start to really look within yourself and examine why you’re so happy.

You shove your arms underneath his and wrap your arms around him, small whisper slaps of his skin as your hands are splayed out along his wide back. You press your ear against his chest. The thud of his heart is strong and slightly speedy, probably in response to your sudden shift in mood.

The swell between both of you, the little life kicking in response to your mood pulls both your attention for a few seconds before you find your voice.

“I missed you, Thor. More than I thought I would. Way more than I ever knew I could.”

The somber tone of your voice has him giving you a nice gentle squeeze. He likes having you right there right up against him just as much as you like being there.

“Well, you were very angry with me,” Thor reminds you. “I didn’t know your face could make those expressions. That day at your home?”

You hug him tighter, staring out at the small bloom of sunrise in the distance. It’s very slightly starting to glisten on the still ocean line.

“I was angry. But it was more than that.”

“I know,” Thor kisses the top of your head. “I hurt you. What I said, I-I didn’t mean it, cherub. I promise you. It was a temporary insanity. The moment you came into that room after I said what I did, I knew that I could never go through with it. And if you’d told me that we were expecting a child-”

“I couldn’t,” you sigh, leaning back to look up at him. “In my head, if I told you then after what you'd said that I was pregnant and you chose to stay with me, I would live the rest of my life wondering whether you chose me because you really loved me or because I was finally going to give New Asgard their heir.”

Thor’s face crumbles a little, brow scrunched, mouth pulled down at the corners as he shakes his head.

“I will always choose you. Not because you are the mother of my children, but because you are the love of my life. The one I did not expect. The one that I can never chance to lose again. I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt me.”

Staring into his eye, the intensity of his gaze, you know that he means what he says. He loves you.

Even though you can’t admit it to him because your reconciliation needs all of the positivity that you can both muster, in your heart, you can’t help but wonder if you can truly trust him.

~~~~~~~~~~

The days go by like routine after the Asgardians find that they have to go back to their jobs and lives.

As much as they all love a good party, Thor and Loki included if the last two days are any indication, they know they can't keep going and must get back to life as usual.

Thor at first makes an attempt to stay with you. The last few months of being without each other makes it difficult to be apart and for Thor especially, with the baby.

He hates leaving you. He wants to be there for every kick and every shift.

His largest grievance is that he can't listen to your laugh when the baby kicks and it feels weird. This you only find out because Loki, in his annoyance with the constant trips Thor makes him do to check on you when he's in his meetings.

Although you believe Loki, you take all of these little indicators of Thor’s love with ease but with the knowledge that it might very well be fleeting.

You try not to think about it and instead just allow yourself to enjoy the fact that Thor does indeed love you and you love him too. Even if it may not be forever. Even if it can change. Even if the future is now a little less certain.

Your meeting with the ambassadors approaches quickly. It takes a month to set it up. Longer than you'd thought and it doesn't take long to understand why.

"This is the third time they've pushed the meeting back," you gripe, moving over to Loki’s computer to look over his shoulder at the surprisingly very short email.

Please inform Her Majesty, the Queen of Asgard, that we are unable to meet with her as previously scheduled this week and will be in contact as to the next available day.

Should any true trouble arise, please tell Thor that we are more than happy to meet with him.

Sincerely,

Earth AMB Mark Coates

You're seething. You've never been this angry. Never this absolutely heated. Not even with Thor and what happened with Jane can compare to the absolute rage flowing through your veins.

"They don't seem to take you seriously," Loki realizes. "Because you're a woman?"

"Partially, probably," you growl as you move back around his desk to sit in the padded armchair by the window where you'd been watching Thor visit with the Valkyrie.

He's not there anymore though and you can see Hilde and her girls relaxing a little. Adjusting their armor, laughing, sitting and talking. Now that their inspection is over they can breathe.

Why they get so nervous you don't understand. Thor’s such a fanboy. He gushes about them constantly.

"What other reason might there be?" Loki asks, rising and moving around his desk to lean against it casually, hands shoved into the inky black pockets of his slacks.

His jade vest is unbuttoned and the sleeves of his dark gray button-up folded up to his elbow.

Summer is almost here and it's getting hotter.

You don't answer right away. Hands slowly stroking your belly, trying to calm down for the baby's sake. Feeling that upset can't be good for him.

You take a long deep inhale and with a heavy sigh release the stress.

"My Queen?" Loki urges, and you smile.

Realizing he's calling you by your title to reaffirm your place among them to make you feel better, you turn your smile on him.

"You've always been my biggest supporter. You and David," your smile falters. "I miss him."

"Is he still in Baghdad?"

"Yeah. He’s in deep so, no contact. I hope he's okay."

"You know, you do have a part time Avenger as a husband and the best magician for a brother-in-law. One word and we'd be happy to assist with your lawyer's extraction."

"Which is why I don't ask. If he needs help, David will let us know. He has his panic button."

The gift had been given to you by Tony who had made it for you to press when you and Thor had been estranged. An easy way to call for Thor if something should happen.

Your brother-in-law nods.

"I suppose it would be a little like nepotism. Fine. What should I do about the misogynistic email?" Loki wonders.

"He's not exactly a misogynist. Not completely anyway. The ambassador blowing me off has more to do with me specifically than it does with me being a woman."

This seems to set Loki off more than if the ambassador was doing this because you're a woman.

"What right does he have to snub the Queen of Asgard? Doesn't he know what that might do to relations between Earth and our people?"

You shake your head, smiling because his anger makes you feel better.

"No, he doesn't. Because to the world my marriage to Thor is show. It's a necessary political move. They don't care whether Thor and I love each other and Jane and Thor’s relationship was so publicized that it’s hard for them to accept that Thor might actually love me.

"Thor went to extreme lengths to protect Jane in the past. Public displays of affection like that aren't forgotten easily.

"To the ambassadors and probably most of the world, offending me doesn't mean an offense against Thor. To them, I'm a queen in name only. No real power here."

Loki huffs through his nose, standing straight with his hands at his waist before he turns to walk back behind his desk.

He stops for a moment, thinking hard you guess, then whips around and stomps towards you before shoving his finger towards the windows.

"I know it has been a while for me, but I can very easily open another tear in space over New York. Or wherever you need me to. I might need a bit of time to locate the power and forces to do it but I will show the people.of Earth what happens when they underestimate the love of the Asgardian people for their queen."

Leaning back in your chair, you keep your arms around your bump as you watch Loki make his threat.

"That's a bit much for a dude who just thinks that my political marriage is just that, isn't it?"

You keep your face clear of amusement, because it really is very sweet of him to be so upset for you. But you can't help the small smile that stretches your lips.

He deflates, moving to other armchair across from yours and sits but leans forward with his elbows on his knees.

"It's shameless disrespect, Y/N. We cannot let them get away with it. You are Asgardian now. A slight against you is a slight against this Kingdom."

"I know, Loki. But-"

Behind Loki his office door opens. It faintly creeks and through it pokes Thor’s searching gaze.

He looks confused as he scans the room until he spots the two of you and with a little skip in his step and a wide unfettered smile, he shuts the door and moves towards you.

"Hi," you smile at him widely in reaction to the loveable look on his face.

"Hello," Thor replies, his voice low and quiet as he leans down towards you.

"You finished early today," you observe, voice just as quiet.

"You know I hate being apart," Thor whispers and presses his lips to yours.

His kiss is so soft and slow.

He pulls away too quickly and as your heart stutters, you reach up to hook your hands into the sides of his chest plate and pull him back down for another kiss.

He'd worn his full uniform today for an early meeting and the inspection of the Valkyrie. He looks so good but with his hair growing in, now just past his shoulders.

He still has the two small braids you'd worked in on the left side of his head and he looks so good, you might jump him later. If you don't pass out for an afternoon nap.

He pulls away again, this time smiling brightly.

"Will I always get this welcome if I come home early? I might have to shorten my days."

You chuckle as he moves around you and stops by a side table where Loki keeps a few weapons on display on a stand. He starts to remove his harder pieces of armor and places them aside.

"What has you looking so stern, brother?" Thor asks, keeping his back to you both as he moves onto the leather pieces that keep his chain mail from shifting.

Loki sits back, sighing heavily as he considers how much to tell Thor.

"Something I should worry about? Come. Tell me and lessen your burden."

"He's upset for me. That's all."

You hear the clink of Thor's mail as it falls on the table then he's moving around your right to squat by your chair so that he's below your eye level.

"Upset for you? Why?" His look of concern is upsetting and pleasing at the same time.

You purse your lips and look at Loki.

"It might be easier if I showed you," he says then rises and moves to his desk to get his tablet.

Thor reaches out to place his hand on your belly and you place yours over his.

He smiles at you then leans down to kiss your tummy while you run your fingers through his hair and try to ignore the utterly breathtaking and heartaching butterflies that his sweet love on your baby gives you.

"I missed you," he whispers to you.

Again, your heart stutters. He’s so easy with his words. These declarations feel so good but that little voice in the back of your head also makes your heart ache.

You just smile at him. Unable to speak when you feel like you're glowing and grieving at the same time.

"Here," Loki holds out the tablet and Thor stands then takes it.

He moves to the loveseat across from your and Loki's armchairs and plops down before reading.

You watch him, admiring the out of armor look. His black leather pants are just as hugging as they always are. His top, a dark gray long sleeve made with breathable fabric leaves no room to wonder just how defined his muscles are.

He's Asgardian perfection.

He breathes in deeply then exhales loudly, a passing shadow of rage overcoming his Godly features before he tosses the tablet at Loki lightly who catches it easily.

Thor spreads his legs a little, tapping his heels as he throws his left arm along the back of the small sofa, his other hand resting on his thigh.

"Write the bastard and tell him I'm requesting the meeting then. Then my cherub and I will both be waiting to give him both the information he needs to warn Earth and a piece of my mind."

You look down at your feet, heart pounding and stomach tumbling with nerves.

You don't want to be the reason any rifts come between New Asgard and Earth. The whole purpose of the position you hold is to protect the citizens of this city.

"Thor," you warn, turning to meet his gaze only when you know you can handle it.

"He wants me to contact him, so I will. In fact, send a raven instead. Do the works. Scroll. Seal. And when they arrive, give them a royal welcome with trumpets and a guard."

"Thor…"

"They will not disrespect you and find warm welcomes in my home. You are my wife. My Queen! Even if all they assume is between us is political agreement, they should respect the title you hold. We may not be above them, but we do outrank them an they need to know that you are not to be messed with.

"The fact that I love you only makes my resolve stronger."

"Okay. I get it, puppy. And I'm grateful to both you and Loki for standing up for me. With your tempers, no one would believe you aren't blood related. Sheesh."

You gran hold of the arms of your chair and groan only a little as you push yourself up onto your feet.

"Oof," you reach back and place your hand on your waist.

Thor’s arm immediately extends out towards you. Beckoning you to his side.

It takes you a moment but you get your footing back and move for him. As soon as you're within reach his arm is around you, helping you sit down carefully.

He doesn't let you sit back all the way. He pushes you to your left so that you'll shift and sit angled while he sits up straighter and turns to face you.

With gentle but firm hands he starts to work out the kinks and knots in your back.

Unintentionally you moan with relief. Thor’s eyes are on Loki though.

"What was your idea?"

"I offered to open another tear in space above whatever city she deemed proper. With the allowance of time to find both the power to do so and the army to lead through it."

You can't see Thor expression but when he speaks, his disapproving sounds fake.

"I'm not sure even idly that threat is in good taste. But I understand the sentiment."

"Do you really want me to make all of that fuss to make the ambassador come and meet with you?"

"Yes. I think he needs to be humbled. He may be in a position of power and my Y/N may owe her marriage to their insistence and meddling, but she is Queen and they are speakers for Earth. They would not have jobs had we not come to live here. Their disrespect of our Queen is a slight on our people.

"The moment I took Y/N under my banner is the moment she became Asgardian from the tips of her cute toes to the top of her irresistible head. And with our child on the way, they should know better."

Loki gets to his feet and moves towards the door, "Very well. One royal invitation coming right up."

As he leaves, Thor’s focus is diverted completely to you.

"Does that feel good, love?"

You only moan in return.

Thor chuckles and keeps going for a few minutes longer before you push back towards him and he lets you rest your back against his chest.

You can't be scrunched forward too long before your stomach begins to feel squished.

You look straight up at his face and he smiles.

"Hi," you tell him.

"Hello."

You smile.

"Was the massage satisfactory?"

"Mmmm, it was great. Your hands are godly, puppy."

Thor chuckles at the pun but leans forward to kiss the tip of your nose.

"And you, my sweet cherub, are a Goddess. And I will make sure you are treated as such."

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