Ryland Grace x Reader -- the last thing I need is space (series)
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"THAT WAS MY CAPTAIN CRUNCH--" - 1.5k
necessary rest - 1.6k (Reader x Irwin Wade)
ROTTMNT
How To Describe It? - 2.7k (Reader x Donnie)
Ask Me Anything Info:
Yeah, ask me anything (PLEASE): questions, prompts, whatever!
Feel free to give me requests! I'll do my best. My writers motivation comes and goes but the motivation from a prompt takes me a long way. When it comes to romance, I really only write Reader x Male Character and I don't write smut. Other than that, I'm open to most character interactions and HEADCANONS (I love a good headcanon. Any headcanon. Does someone want headcanons? X Reader headcanons? No? Just me? Alright.).
Here's the fandoms/people I'm really motivated writing for rn:
Marvel: Bob Reynolds, John Walker (guys, side note: invest in whump john walker itâs really good), Peter Parker
Summary:
Donnie has a bad habit of losing track of time when working. Even though he knows staying up so late will only cause him trouble, he canât help but accidentally do it sometimes anyway.
Thankfully, Reader is always there to pick up the pieces and be so incredibly out of his league through her kindness, that he canât help but struggle to put how she makes him feel into words. Itâs so overwhelming, but he loves it all the same.
> established relationship, Donnie literally just canât put a name to feelings in the moment as he feels them lol
Tags/Warnings: Donatello Is Bad At Feelings, Has Anxiety, and is Touch Starved, Panic Attacks, Nightmares, Disaster Twins (Leo & Donnie), NO TURTLE-CEST you freaks, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sleepy Cuddles, Established Relationship, Fem!Reader, Donatello-Centric
A/N:
Did I plan on writing this?
No.
Did I see a major lack of Donnie angst and get dragged back into this fandom through its minor revival a few weeks ago over the disaster twin confirmation (I somehow only just heard about)?
Yes.
Hello niche community. Hope you enjoy!
And please excuse any typos. Iâve wrote this between 12:30am-3:30am. Ive been trying to reread and catch any errors lol
It was one of those nights, Donnie abruptly realized.Â
It made him sit up in his chair, finally looking down at the motherboard he was rewiring that heâd actually just been staring at for the past five minutes.
Ah. He was tired.
Looking at the time he saw 4:45am.
Well that would explain it.
He guessed he could turn in for the night.
He left his lab to patter off to his bedroom. The lair was silent, thankfully. Heâd be partially concerned if it wasnât. The only person who would be up at this hour would be Leo, but one glance into his room told Donnie that thankfully tonight was a good night, and he was getting some well deserved rest.
Leo always struggled with sleep. When it wasnât nightmares, his simple insomnia always came creeping back. Maybe it was an effect of his constant energy as a kid, or maybe to many late nights after nightmares as a kid. Maybe, if the latter option, his body became accustomed to staying awake as a defense mechanism against fear he faced in his sleep.
Eh, Donnie was never good at deciphering emotional biological matters. He knew where his lacking in knowledge lied: emotions were where he was mainly lacking.
With that in mind, he pushed the problem solving aside for now because Leo was asleep, so it was fine.
Entering his room he fell into easy routine: take off battle shell, brush teeth, put on hoodieâ oh, wait. His usual purple one was being washed (after a certain someone âtrippedâ spilling soda all over it⊠dear twin of hisâŠ). He opened his small cupboard of clothes to pick an alternative. T-shirt, t-shirt, t-shirt⊠thatâs a crewneck he didnât like sleeping in those⊠he liked hoods and strings to fiddle with⊠no, no, noâŠÂ wait- yes! Y/N left one of her hoodies over here. While he did say heâd wash it and have it in perfect condition when she returned⊠he had yet to wash it anyway.Â
Not like it was dirty. She more brought it as a precaution incase it got cold and never used it, simply forgetting the folded item when she departed. Meaning⊠it wouldnât be bad for him to wear it first so that itâs already clean nature didnât go to waste when he washed it later. Yes, very logical. He slipped it on.
Heâs changed his mind. Heâs never giving this back.
Ahahahah⊠no he will he will, thatâs the sleepy delirium or whatever talking.Â
Heâs not giving it back.Â
It smelled like her perfume; pretty flowers and lavender. He immediately got into bed, the scent already making him drift off. He pulled the hood on, happily engulfed in the soothing false idea of her calm, comforting presence.Â
She was so nice. She always listened to his rambles, and not in a just âI have to sit through this till he wears himself out,â way, but instead in a, âwow, even though I donât complexly understand this, I like learning about it and am happy to hear you explain it,â way. Enjoying his interests and finding joy in his joys. It made him stupidly sick in feelings he never had exact words for.Â
He found himself hugging his torso, being quick to replace it with some silly purple zebra plushie she made him. Made!
âDonnie, I didnât know you had stuffed animals?âÂ
Of course Leo didnât. Donnie kept them all properly hidden from his brotherâs view. They all may roughly know of one or two that heâll carry around on rougher mental days, but theyâd never find his secret army. He had fifty.
Anyway, he seemed to have noticed the zebra plushie left on his neatly made bed.
âAh, see that one was gift from Y/N, and it would be illogical of me to not have it on display in all its glory. Did you know she made it herself? It would be rude for me not to have it out.â
âYouâre so smitten bro.â
âDonât British people say that?â
âEh, didnât Britain give us the Statue of Liberty? Itâs close enough.â
âThat was France, Leo.â
âOh same thing!â
He felt himself teetering on unconsciousness. This feeling of⊠something he couldnât name other than comfort was soothingly dragging him under. It wasnât completely foreign to him but it wasnât the same. It was something more. Something⊠heâd think about in the morning, as the feeling of consciousness slipping away came all to nicely.Â
ââââââ
He bolted awake.
His breathing was heavy and he already felt tears pricking at his eyes.
What did he even dream about? He couldnât remember, not now. Not while he couldnât breathe.Â
He tried to close his eyes and concentrate but he just couldnât. His mind was going to fast with anxiety he couldnât place. He grabbed at the hoodie around him, quickly being hit with the scent of⊠flowers? Was that lavenderâ
Y/N.
He scrambled for his phone, moving in a blur. Before he knew it, her voice came from the other side of the line.
âMmm⊠Donnie? Wh⊠Whaâs up?â Oh shit, he woke her up. He didnât even look at the time before callingâ it was 5:30am. Fuck!Â
He went to apologize, forgetting, âoh right! I canât BREATHEâ.
âSh- Shit! F-fuck sorry I- I justâ I c-canâtâ I-fuck!â His voice cracked without him realizing. He dropped his phone in frustration or shaking as he tried to heave air in but only succeeded in hyperventilating more.
âH-hey Donnieâ hold on just listen to me. Weâre gonna do that uh, breathing exercise. The 4-7-8 one, yeah?â her voice calmly explained  through the speaker. âIâm gonna do it too, you just have to copy me. Listen, in for four, one.. twoâŠâ
He tried, he really tried, but his breath kept getting caught and he couldnât seem to focus and everything was just too much too much too muchâ how was he supposed to focus???
âI- I canât!â He manages, which really comes out as a pitiful sob. When did he start crying? He never criedâŠ
âItâs ok, weâll just try again. In for four, one.. two..â
He tried again. And again. And by the time she got to four heâd failed, which was only making it worse. She was so patient, dealing with him and trying to calm him and he couldnât even breathe right! âI canât do it Iâ s-shit I woke you up for nothingââ
âShut up D,â she said quickly, cutting him off. âTell me about your night. Were you working on some tech earlier?â Thereâs some minor rustling from the other side of the line but he didnât pay it much attention, instead tying to latch onto her words like a lifeline.
Tonight. What was he working on earlier? The motherboard⊠oh right, for⊠the security system? No no⊠a new weapon prototype? He doesnât think it was that either⊠was it⊠it wasâŠoh right! It was for his laptop!
âWere you working on something Donnie?â She repeated, more insistent with concern.
âY-yeah, I was rewiring a uh, motherboard earlier.â
âWhat for?â She continued. He took in some breaths to answer, as if trying to talk after running a marathon.
âMy laptopâŠâ
âWhy?â
âThe uhm, screen started flickering. I w-wasnât sure why cause that really shouldnât happen but..â he took a deep breath. âI think Leo stepped on it or something cause some wiring connecting up the screen came undone. Thankfully no bulbs in the screen went out so it still projects fine, just needed to be rewired. I didnât finish it thoughâŠâ
âWell thatâs ok. You can finish it tommorow right? Youâre super smart so itâll only take a few minutes. Did you have any other plans for tomorrow?â
He tried to wipe the blush from his face only to swipe off water instead. He did his best to ignore it and answer her question.Â
âUhm.. I donât think so. Maybe we were going to have a movie night? As in me and my brothers⊠Iâm not sure. If we did you could come? Or we could have one regardless. Or not, if you didnât want toââ
âIâd love to Donnie. What movie should we watch? Your pick.â
He racked his mind for any cool movie that came out recently. He came up blank. âOh Iâ I donât knowââ
âNo, Donnie, what movies do you want to watch? Any new come out recently youâre interested in?â
Him. What movies he wanted to watch. She was so out of his league, how did he even land her? âThereâs⊠a new Spiderman one? Itâs all animated and⊠itâs a bunch of different spidermen from different universesâ theyâll all have different tech and I watched the trailers and it looks pretty cool cause I think the creators put a lot of thought into the suits and different tech design andââ
He rambled for an amount of time he couldnât remember, getting lost in all he heard about the movie and his actual excitement to watch it. Of course, he held off from watching it on the release date just a week earlier, because in all honesty thereâs no one he wants to watch it with other than her.Â
After some time though, she cut him off. âHold on, I gotta hang up for just a minute. Iâll be right back, k?â
âOhâ ok.â He didnât mean to sound so dejected, but it was too late. âYeah, no problem.â
âI promise itâll just be a minute or two. Love you lots.â And with two kisses across the speaker, she hung up.
The silence in his room was deafening. The quiet led pricking of his skin returned, a burning acheset deep in his bones. It only allowed thoughts from what he presumed was his nightmare to creep back in.
She hadnât talked in a while, probably got bored of your rambling.
Maybe she muted her phone too. Why would she listen to all that anyway?
If she does watch the movie, itâll probably fell like obligation after all the gushing you did about it.
She wonât even call back. Sheâs gone back to bed.
Thatâ that wasnât true. He pushed away the thoughts, grabbing back onto the zebra plush and holding it tightly.Â
It wasnât true. She wouldnât do that.Â
He had to stop staying up so late though.Â
Itâs always what brought on these kind of nights. And he should really stop pulling all nighters as an alternative escape.
Before he knows it, he checks the time again only to see 4 minutes have passed. He mustâve zoned out, but the realization racks his body with minor fear beforeâ
Thereâs a knock at his bedroom door. The noise made him flinch in its major unexpectedness. He can all but stare in weird horror. His body is stuck as his mind refuses to make it move, trying to process countless questions as the door creeks open andâ
âDon?â
Y/N?
âW-whatâŠâ
Sure enough, it was her. Slightly tired look on her face with two blankets in hand. She kicked off her soft slippers and came over to his bed without hesitation. âTouch or no touch?â She even remembered about his sensory issues that really heightened when he was stressed. He actually doesnât think he could ask for someone better.Â
He mustâve been staring (he really needed to work on zoning out so much) because his line of sight was interrupted by her hands moving.Â
She was signing the question because she didnât think he was up to talking.Â
She was signing because she learned sign just to be there for him when he had silent episodes.
This wasnât one of those, he was just so genuinely shocked by her presence that he couldnât seem to get a word out , but it was the thought and care the action radiated that fixed himâ and that sent a whole new wave of emotions over him.
The look on her face shifted. She signed as she spoke. âCrapâ did I do something? Iâm sorry Iââ but before she couldnât continue he pulled her down into a hug. Suddenly, all the noise of his mind quieted. That pounding ache wracking is body subsided, replaced with comforting warmth. It made him wish he wasnât so repulsed by touch most of the time. It was so frustratingâ one day it makes his skin crawl, the next itâs the only thing that'll make it stop.
Leo, despite being his twin, never has had an issue with touch, the clingy bastard. Always begging for a hug or comforting presence. Actually, scratch that, he didnât beg; he acted and was only stoped by opposing forces.
Regardless of Donnieâs constant internal train of thought that he could never seem to turn off, his more disturbing thoughts quieted. He finally managed to find his voice.
âYou didnât have to come.â
She relaxed immensely at the words, reciprocating the hug at the relief. âI wanted to. I like making sure youâre ok.â
ââs just a nightmareâŠâ he slurred, head already leaning heavily on her shoulder. All that exhaustion from earlier was finally coming back full force. They always say sleep deprivation will catch up to you (âtheyâ being April and âyouâ usually being Donnie and Leo). Despite his arguments against the fact, âIâm still awake and functions arenât I?â, times like these came all too often. It was almost 6:00am and he was running off restless, âfauxâ sleep.
âOne that had you calling me hyperventilating.â Right, the nightmare. Time moved so weird when this happened. It felt like they were talking about that ages ago.Â
âI dânt even remember it⊠âs stupidâŠâ
âAre Leoâs nightmares stupid?â
That made him perk up immediately. âWhat? No! He canât help that they happeââ
âOh, so then yours arenât stupid then either.â
Curses. She loved catching him in a checkmate.
âNot the same,â he tried to refute, trying to be annoyed but failing miserably. Everything in him seemed to melt at her touch when his mind allowed it, including is superb arguing skills.
âYeah yeah, tell me that all you want lovely.â She said, pecking a quick kiss on his forehead before pulling away and grabbing the blankets she dropped before making him scoot over.Â
He let out a breath. âSigh, I canât debate under these conditions.â
âBut you can sleep. See, ultimate comfort.â She said, draping both the blankets over them, one being normal and the other being weighted. âThis isnât fairrrrr,â he grumbled, already sinking into the warmth and overwhelming scent of lavender. Thatâs it, he was buying a candle of it after this. Or just having her over forever. Both would likely cure his sleepless nights.Â
âDonât care,â she shrugged, already pulling one of his arms over to use as her personal plushie. The warmth tickled his skin, another level of safety he always forgot about until it reappeared in his life through Mikeyâs hugs, Raphâs pats on the shoulder, or Leoâs clinginess on sleepless nights. Maybe he and his twin had more in common after all, because he found himself leaning into her as much as he could, soaking up the contact. In his other arm, he held the little zebra, nothing but content surrounded by pure and utter love.
That was the word. Love.
And he didnât think he minded it at all.
.
.
.
âIs that my hoodie?
He almost jumped. âWHAT! NOââ
His free hand came up to fiddle with the strings as he averted his eyes, the obvious lie burning on his tongue. His entire face felt red hot in an instant. He blushed so easily, it was the worst.
âMaybe..âÂ
He cleared his throat: an attempt at composition. âIf it uhm, hypothetically was, it would be antiquely washed and returned to you in a reasonable amount of time,â he managed with just a partial amount of disappointment in his tone.
She laughed, sweet and sleepily. âJust keep it you dork.â
His brothers could never see this. He doesnât think heâs been more embarrassed and excited at the same time. Itâs an odd feeling that, at least around her judgeless self, was weirdly pleasant. Like that, soft unconsciousness clouded his vision around the immense care and love that enveloped him.Â
âOh no Raph, this is way too good to go to waste.â He said, shit-eating grin on his face as he took a fifteenth photo of the sickeningly sweet scene before them.
âIf he finds out you have those, youâre doomed.â
âEh, Iâve handled him before. And no worries, Iâll have back up copies.â
âLeo, doesnât he have like a bunch of stuff on you already?â Mikey pipped up.
âPshhh, like what?â
âLike that time in the medbay, when you were super delirious and crying saying how much you loved us andââ
Leo abruptly shut the door to Donnieâs room, cutting Mikey off. âWe never speak of that, and we will never speak of this. Capiche?â
âCapiche.â
Mikeyâs turn to grin. Dr.Feelings, defender of love, reigns victorious again.
with my fixation with rottmnt returning, I watched the library episode last night. all was good, and so today I went to watch another episode while I ate lunch.
looking it up on Netflix, only the movie came up⊠weird. did a quick search on safari only to find IT GOT TAKEN OFF OF NETFLIX TODAY.
ARE YOU KIDDING ME. WHY WASNâT IT IN THE LEAVING SOON SECTION NETFLIX???? I WOULDâVE MADE THE MOST OF MY TIME
It's in my Masterlist but just btw, my requests are open! I'm happy to answer any questions, requests, or prompts you all may have abt anything (specific fandoms I'm in are in my Masterlist here)! Even if it's a silly hypothetical or something, I love talking!
lol iâm not the best drawer but i love multi arm rocky and simple rocky. this is based off my "Making Human!Rocky/Eridian's Canon" post, if you wanted to see a rant about that. also, just as a side note, i thought it would be kind of funny if sometimes eridianâs fell over and got stuck like turtles.
I've seen so many awesome human!Rocky drawings/concepts (especially loving the ones of him with multiple arms) but it got me thinking about how the Erdian race would work as humanoids and, how in this AU, his and Grace's language barrier situation would unfold.
As far as the biology of it, I think it would be cool if they were made of entirely different compounds that make their bones and all other parts of them like 200% stronger than Earth human's components. This would still give them that very heavy numerical body mass no matter their 'fitness'. This fact would also be why they can and often work with sharp metals and Xenonite so easily-- it just wouldn't cut them due to their much stronger skin. This would also attribute to their different diet (due to different insides and composition); human foods would not only taste badly to them, but they'd have zero nutrients the Eridian body could use and therefore not even digest properly. Aka, just the reason in this AU why Rocky, other than creating Taumoeba, couldn't provide Grace with any spare food on the way to Erid.
Personally, I really like the idea of the Eridian language having/being a form of sign language. With the human!Eridians having two set of arms, I like the idea that they created a sign-able version of their language since they all can 'see' physical objects/movement and have the extra limbs to communicate while going about their regular work. With their numerous sets of vocal cords, maybe it's more common for medical issues to arise that erode their ability to speak in full melodies/words leading to the need of sign language among their species to be very necessary and second nature to all.
When Rocky meets Grace (the name âRockyâ given due to his tough, nearly impenetrable skin), maybe Rocky's vocal chords are just minorly damaged from the slight amount of radiation that did end up affecting him, or from a previous injury on Erid. Either way, this would lead to the computre translator being inaccurate since it translates the chords Rocky speaks, which sometimes aren't exact. On Erid, the damage is so minor he can still talk and be understood by other Eridians, but just like Google Translate here on Earth when going from language to language you have to be pretty exact. This would lead to them making some device Rocky would wear on his hands, connected with a ring on each finger, that would instead track his hand/arm movements/signs into English and then to text to speech.
I've watched a lot of Matpat and love nerding out about this kind of stuff.
Pt.2: @cowprintsillies had good questions so LETS TALK ABOUT THAT
Going with the basic description that yes, every bodily part of human!Eridians are 200% stronger than its Earth human counterpart, I love the idea that their hair is like wires. In the book, most of Rockys body is made of inorganic matter like metals and rocks. With their species being crazy innovative and master builders/creators, I think that would be really cool that even parts of their bodies can be used as raw materials for building. Like even their bodies main goal is to create and advance. Their hair wouldn't be wires in a metal way, I think it would still look like hair but even a single strand (thicker than calcium human hair) could be used to connect two things with a simple knot and be an actual reliable material. Aka, some crazy mutation of calcium/the Eridian version of it. It would be what makes up their bones, nails, etc, but just like earth humans all those things have different strengths and thickness/why their bones will like never ever break and are like rocks.
There's a bunch of different directions we could go with their eyes, but I like to think they still have them but don't need them. Their vision, just like in the movie and book, would be echolocation based -- (especially because of their extra vocal cords! they definitely have a built in set that emit high frequencies just for this function!) .
Basically, animals with echolocation do not need eyes to sense distances and objects, but still have them. High frequencies emitted bounce off objects creating a 3D mental map in their mind. This is how Eridians echolocation works, it's just very advanced, looking like what we see in the movie when we see through Rocky's 'eyes'. Eridian's with still working eyes can just sense objects more clearly and farther away, (just like Earth animals with echolocation like dolphins and bats) and would work just as an extra sensor for their brain to use when it processes detecting the physical objects around them. Their vision is still solely echolocation, so they're not actually seeing anything, but their eyes would work as a simple extra tool for their brain to detect more. Aka, they're not necessary, just nice to have if functioning. That's why a sign-able version of their language was so necessary, because whether an Eridian has eyes or not they can still see.
I think I'd be so cool if they had pretty cultural blindfolds Eridian's with damaged eyes could wear. Maybe damaged eyes would make their echolocation a little wonky, only sometimes detecting extra objects. It would make everything seem off kilter, meaning it would be better off if they just covered them and had their brain only processed objects near them with sound. This would be their equivalent of people being 'near sighted'-- cause they can literally only detect a certain radius around them with sound. (It's still a LOT though, cause echolocation is crazy)
They also, like Cow said, would likely have a thick sheen over their eyes for protection. Since the tissue of their body is so much stronger, it means that their bones, muscles, skin, and other tissues are thicker (making them like impenetrable 'rocks'). Since the eye is made up of three layers of tissue, it's reasonable to say that those layers are thicker and you can definitely see a transparent thick outer layer protecting the pupil-- like thick lensed glasses already in their eye.
@cowprintsillies had more questions and i'm very excited
Teeth: we're about to get crazy. TW: body horror? much talk of chewing and swallowing food, ik that grosses a lot of people out.
So in the book, Eridians strictly eat in private. It's a cultural thing because they (i'm pretty sure) basically open themself up to force food into their digestive track. For their "humanoid" version, I'd imagine something similar.
Firstly, two sets of teeth. A front and back row on the top and bottom of their mouth. Just like how humans/all animals on earths teeth and made to accommodate for our food options (plants and meat), I'd imagine of course that Eridians teeth would do the same. The first row wouldn't be too sharp, but could still dent metal (quick and easy tool for when working with metal!). The second row could completely cut through and crumble it (smaller, much tougher, razor sharp)-- as established, tissues in their body are tougher including their tongue which would not be cut by these teeth. Then, however, certain compounds may be just really tough and need more crumpling to be digested. Therefore, neck teeth. From the chin down to around the end of their sternum I would imagine could open up for tougher compounds to be placed and be slowly chewed as they process down their... weird throat.
How about this: due to their tougher, thick tissues, the quick movement of muscles needed for swallowing and movement down the throat would be difficult. This leads to them having two throats/esophagi:
1. The first, that connects to the back of their mouth for small, not as tough compounds. These compounds wouldn't require much swallowing muscle movement due to their mouth teeth being able to completely chew the compound up. (aka, same location as humans esophagus)
2. The second, that has to be opened up for food to be placed. This esophagus has teeth lining it all the way down and would directly connect to their stomach at the end (that end half of it would not be able to be opened. Only the ~50% of it that is from the chin to sternum would open). The metal compound would slowly go down and be chewed by this long line of teeth (much much more than the mouth of course), so that when it finally reached the stomach (very slow process) its just as chewed as the softer compounds eaten by their regular mouth.
Isn't opened as easily as a normal mouth, is a whole horrific process because when closed is just smooth skin quickly created by their advanced body.
This would keep the (book) canon culture of the Eridians the same, of eating often being a very private and horrific practice.
Baby/Wisdom Teeth?: nah. I think instead the teeth just wouldn't come in until they grew older and their mouth expanded-- their biology just being more advanced like that. However if a tooth were to fall out, I think the body would immediately notice and have no problem growing a new one and replacing it-- easily done by the compounds they eat to sustain their body. Big big brain.
+ for those wondering, their vocal chords would line the back of their neck, not the front like Earth humans. This, of course, is due to their second esophagus, as well as the need for room for the numerous pairs of vocal cords. This placement would also help their created noise echo through the whole tunnel of their mouth and for multiple chords to be used together easily (in the book, Eridians say multiple musical chords simultaneously to create certain words/emotional sounds.)
YES this in my mind is canon human multiple armed Rocky. There's also another piece of multi. arm Rocky art that I saw and can't find that's driving me a little bit insane but that's ok. ALSO @candiedbeez human Rocky design on TikTok *chefs kiss*
I've seen so many awesome human!Rocky drawings/concepts (especially loving the ones of him with multiple arms) but it got me thinking about how the Erdian race would work as humanoids and, how in this AU, his and Grace's language barrier situation would unfold.
As far as the biology of it, I think it would be cool if they were made of entirely different compounds that make their bones and all other parts of them like 200% stronger than Earth human's components. This would still give them that very heavy numerical body mass no matter their 'fitness'. This fact would also be why they can and often work with sharp metals and Xenonite so easily-- it just wouldn't cut them due to their much stronger skin. This would also attribute to their different diet (due to different insides and composition); human foods would not only taste badly to them, but they'd have zero nutrients the Eridian body could use and therefore not even digest properly. Aka, just the reason in this AU why Rocky, other than creating Taumoeba, couldn't provide Grace with any spare food on the way to Erid.
Personally, I really like the idea of the Eridian language having/being a form of sign language. With the human!Eridians having two set of arms, I like the idea that they created a sign-able version of their language since they all can 'see' physical objects/movement and have the extra limbs to communicate while going about their regular work. With their numerous sets of vocal cords, maybe it's more common for medical issues to arise that erode their ability to speak in full melodies/words leading to the need of sign language among their species to be very necessary and second nature to all.
When Rocky meets Grace (the name âRockyâ given due to his tough, nearly impenetrable skin), maybe Rocky's vocal chords are just minorly damaged from the slight amount of radiation that did end up affecting him, or from a previous injury on Erid. Either way, this would lead to the computre translator being inaccurate since it translates the chords Rocky speaks, which sometimes aren't exact. On Erid, the damage is so minor he can still talk and be understood by other Eridians, but just like Google Translate here on Earth when going from language to language you have to be pretty exact. This would lead to them making some device Rocky would wear on his hands, connected with a ring on each finger, that would instead track his hand/arm movements/signs into English and then to text to speech.
I've watched a lot of Matpat and love nerding out about this kind of stuff.
Pt.2: @cowprintsillies had good questions so LETS TALK ABOUT THAT
Going with the basic description that yes, every bodily part of human!Eridians are 200% stronger than its Earth human counterpart, I love the idea that their hair is like wires. In the book, most of Rockys body is made of inorganic matter like metals and rocks. With their species being crazy innovative and master builders/creators, I think that would be really cool that even parts of their bodies can be used as raw materials for building. Like even their bodies main goal is to create and advance. Their hair wouldn't be wires in a metal way, I think it would still look like hair but even a single strand (thicker than calcium human hair) could be used to connect two things with a simple knot and be an actual reliable material. Aka, some crazy mutation of calcium/the Eridian version of it. It would be what makes up their bones, nails, etc, but just like earth humans all those things have different strengths and thickness/why their bones will like never ever break and are like rocks.
There's a bunch of different directions we could go with their eyes, but I like to think they still have them but don't need them. Their vision, just like in the movie and book, would be echolocation based -- (especially because of their extra vocal cords! they definitely have a built in set that emit high frequencies just for this function!) .
Basically, animals with echolocation do not need eyes to sense distances and objects, but still have them. High frequencies emitted bounce off objects creating a 3D mental map in their mind. This is how Eridians echolocation works, it's just very advanced, looking like what we see in the movie when we see through Rocky's 'eyes'. Eridian's with still working eyes can just sense objects more clearly and farther away, (just like Earth animals with echolocation like dolphins and bats) and would work just as an extra sensor for their brain to use when it processes detecting the physical objects around them. Their vision is still solely echolocation, so they're not actually seeing anything, but their eyes would work as a simple extra tool for their brain to detect more. Aka, they're not necessary, just nice to have if functioning. That's why a sign-able version of their language was so necessary, because whether an Eridian has eyes or not they can still see.
I think I'd be so cool if they had pretty cultural blindfolds Eridian's with damaged eyes could wear. Maybe damaged eyes would make their echolocation a little wonky, only sometimes detecting extra objects. It would make everything seem off kilter, meaning it would be better off if they just covered them and had their brain only processed objects near them with sound. This would be their equivalent of people being 'near sighted'-- cause they can literally only detect a certain radius around them with sound. (It's still a LOT though, cause echolocation is crazy)
They also, like Cow said, would likely have a thick sheen over their eyes for protection. Since the tissue of their body is so much stronger, it means that their bones, muscles, skin, and other tissues are thicker (making them like impenetrable 'rocks'). Since the eye is made up of three layers of tissue, it's reasonable to say that those layers are thicker and you can definitely see a transparent thick outer layer protecting the pupil-- like thick lensed glasses already in their eye.
reblog if people r allowed to send u asks as if theyre ur friend. wanna tell me how ur day went? do it!!! ask me for advice? sure! ask a personal question? go right on ahead!
I've seen so many awesome human!Rocky drawings/concepts (especially loving the ones of him with multiple arms) but it got me thinking about how the Erdian race would work as humanoids and, how in this AU, his and Grace's language barrier situation would unfold.
As far as the biology of it, I think it would be cool if they were made of entirely different compounds that make their bones and all other parts of them like 200% stronger than Earth human's components. This would still give them that very heavy numerical body mass no matter their 'fitness'. This fact would also be why they can and often work with sharp metals and Xenonite so easily-- it just wouldn't cut them due to their much stronger skin. This would also attribute to their different diet (due to different insides and composition); human foods would not only taste badly to them, but they'd have zero nutrients the Eridian body could use and therefore not even digest properly. Aka, just the reason in this AU why Rocky, other than creating Taumoeba, couldn't provide Grace with any spare food on the way to Erid.
Personally, I really like the idea of the Eridian language having/being a form of sign language. With the human!Eridians having two set of arms, I like the idea that they created a sign-able version of their language since they all can 'see' physical objects/movement and have the extra limbs to communicate while going about their regular work. With their numerous sets of vocal cords, maybe it's more common for medical issues to arise that erode their ability to speak in full melodies/words leading to the need of sign language among their species to be very necessary and second nature to all.
When Rocky meets Grace (the name âRockyâ given due to his tough, nearly impenetrable skin), maybe Rocky's vocal chords are just minorly damaged from the slight amount of radiation that did end up affecting him, or from a previous injury on Erid. Either way, this would lead to the computre translator being inaccurate since it translates the chords Rocky speaks, which sometimes aren't exact. On Erid, the damage is so minor he can still talk and be understood by other Eridians, but just like Google Translate here on Earth when going from language to language you have to be pretty exact. This would lead to them making some device Rocky would wear on his hands, connected with a ring on each finger, that would instead track his hand/arm movements/signs into English and then to text to speech.
I've watched a lot of Matpat and love nerding out about this kind of stuff.
Saving Private Ryan: College AU
Pairing: Irwin Wade x Reader
WC: 1.6k
Summary:
Many people see Irwin Wade as⊠well⊠what he is: a very hard working and essentially always tired medical student. Heâs probably gotten⊠15 hours of sleep this week? He tries to ignore that fact but whoâs he kidding, heâd have only drank coffee this week if it wasnât for his ingrained medical knowledge of the important of water.
Anyways, what he does know is that tonight you both are finally not busy and he can come over and just sleep. That is, if his very nosy roommates will let him.
Characters/Tags: Irwin Wade, Reader, Daniel Jackson, Stanley Mellish, Adrian Caprazo, College Au, Roommates/Housemates, AU Everybody Lives, Established Relationship, Irwin Wade is a Medical Student, Irwin Wade is Tired, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Slightly Touch Starved Irwin Wade, Cuddling & Snuggling
A/N:
Hiya! Same as the last work (the starting basis of this au which isn't x reader) you donât have to know anything about Saving Private Ryan to read this. I just really love writing the Cuddling & Snuggling tag⊠can you tell.
ANYWHO! If you DO know about SPR, HI! Funny seeing you here. Itâs lonely out in these parts but we have each other. ENJOY!
-> Read it on ao3 here!
âHey guys Iâm going out,â Wade says to the group of a few of his roommates in the living room. They usually wouldnât bat an eye at this. Wade always had somewhere to be with all his classes and med work. However, they unfortunately mustâve noted that he very specifically had this night off. They have also noted that he doesnât drink, so in their minds thereâs no where for him to really go.
Mellish is the first to speak up. âWait, why? To where? I thought you didnât have med stuff tonight?â
Curses.
âOh, I donât. Iâm just going over to⊠a friendâs.â Fuck why did he say that. He forgets he lives with the nosiest people in the world.
âA friendâs?â Caparzo says with an eyebrow raised. Heâs obviously teasing, but the implications are there. âCmon Wade, studying can wait, no matter what way youâre doing it. Why donât you watch a movie with us or something, relax?â He feels himself internally squirm at the implication. Maybe he just wanted a hug Caparzo.Â
âYouâre such a freak man, Iâm out.â Heâs joking (not really) other than the leaving part. As he turns on his heels to leave, Jackson cuts him off with another question from the couch.
âWait wait wait, who are you going to see, actually?â
Wade rolls his eyes, turning back to them. Itâs only Mellish, Caparzo, and Jackson in the room. He decided they wonât hold it over his head if he just told them. âMy girlfriendâs.â
Heâs never seen them this speechless before. Oh how he wished the dorm was this quiet all the time.
âYOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?!??â Is what is essentially said (yelled) by all of them simultaneously.Â
âDamn didnât know the neighbors had to know too.â
âSince when have you had time to have a girlfriend?â Mellish said, jaw to the floor but lips quirked up in a smile.Â
âI donât know man. I still live a life outside of working,â he deadpans.Â
âFor how long?â Caparzo adds, face still in shock rather than amusement.
âA year or so.â He shrugs, suddenly very sick of this conversation. He just wants to leave.Â
âA year?!â He hears Mellish mumble. Is him dating someone really that shocking? At least Jackson seemed to have some respect, seeming completely chill since the initial fact of the matter. He was also much better at taking social hints. âThatâs great man. You should bring her around the next time we go out for dinner or something. That is as long as Reiben isnât there. He might not let you hear the end of it.â
That at least gets a smile out him. âYeah. Figures why I just never brought her up. Anyway, Iâll see you guys.â Even with his back turned as he walks away he can feel Jacksonâs stare at the other two like, âYou better shut the fuck up and let him leave.âJackson was in general a more respectful guy, especially when compared to most of their dorm mates. He also had a fairly heavy or at least hard workload, so he understood the necessity of needing a break from it or a break from the chaos that was their dorm.Â
Jackson roomed with Reiben, so he understood that more than anyone. He was almost as scarcely in the dorm as Wade and not even because he needed to. At least in a work sense, mentally he probably needed to.
Either way, he starts the short walk over to her apartment building.
ââââââ
It was always a toss up if Wade would be able to come over when you were both free. While it was what your schedules would say, you both had roommates who tended to often change those plans intentionally or not. Thankfully, your room mate was out of town. She knew Wade and they were good friends so she didnât mind you ever inviting him over when she was gone. She knew you guys would just watch a movie and order takeout or something.Â
While you were lucky and only had one roommate, he had five. That alone sounded like a nightmare, but then some of the stories he told you about them made you wonder how he ever got any work done there. Then again, he usually did his work in the library, so he said living with them wasnât so bad. Except for maybe Rieben, but they didnât have any personal beef so even still it was fine.Â
You hadnât actually met any of them more simply because the opportunity never presented itself. As said before, you two were really busy a lot of the time and werenât much up for parties or bars. You were much more excited by the idea of a nap.
Speaking of, thereâs a knock at your door. You get up from the couch and look through the peephole just to double check who it was but also just to asses the situation. Thankfully, itâs him and, go figure, he looked tired, but doesnât seem to be in pain so no migraine which is a plus. Sometimes when he really overworks himself and doesnât take at least a day to catch up on sleep he gets them. He usually just toughs them out because, âwork still has to get done,â but heâs come to your place crying once in a blue moon cause the pain is just so bad and thereâs no a chance his dorm could get quiet or dark enough to make it go away.  Thankfully, todayâs not one of those days, which is nice.Â
When you open the door his eyes light up a little bit, looking a little less like a kicked puppy but still exhausted. âHey,â he said almost like a sigh of relief.Â
âHi,â you said with a smile, giving him a quick kiss before walking off to the kitchen as he put his bag down. âI was hoping youâd make it tonight,â you say excitedly. âI made brownies!â
He goes still staring at you before immediately making his way to the kitchen and grabbing one. After one bite he slaps the table. âYou gotta stop making these, you know Iâll eat them all.âÂ
âWhy donât you take some to your roommates?â You offer, but he just shakes his head.
âNo, they donât deserve them.â
âOh cmon, they canât all be bad.â
He thinks about it before responding. âI guess I can give Upham and Jackson one.â
âHow about give all of them a small one and Jackson and Upham a bigger one?â
âI donât wanna give them all my brownies.â
âThatâs why I made two batches. One for them and one for you. Isnât the saying you catch more flies with honey than vinegar or something like that? Maybe itâll make that Reiben feel a little better to given something even after the way heâs been acting.â
Wade looks unconvinced.Â
âPlease?â
He rolls his eyes. It doesnât take much from you to get him to surrender. âFine. Just this once.â
âYay!â
You guys talk for a few minutes before he heads off to take a shower. You pack up the brownies into two tupperware and write on the lids âWadeâs Dorm-matesâ and âWade <3â. After, you head to your room and open one of your books in bed while waiting for him to finish.Â
Eventually, the shower stops and after a few minutes he emerges with mused damp hair and one of your pink hoodies alongside your pink Hello Kitty pajama pants. You canât help but stifle a laugh. âWhat? Your clothes are comfortable and I⊠forgot pajamas.â
âBy accident Iâm sure,â you say with a smirk.
âYeah yeah, by accident.â
You shut your book and get up to give him a hug. He immediately leans into you at the touch, all that pushed down exhaustion resurfacing. You were glad you were able to give him the rest he needed.Â
ââM sorry Iâm so tiredâŠâ he says into your shoulder after a few minutes. âYâ probably wanted to⊠watch movie or sâmethinâ.â
âNo,â you say while tracing small circles into his back. âI want you to rest. Whether thatâs sleeping or watching something, I donât care. I just want you to be ok.â
âMâ ok. Can we sleep?â
You nod, pulling away so you can both slip under the heavy and soft comforter. It doesnât take long for him to curl into your side, reassuming his spot hugging you. âI might sleep for like⊠20 hours.â He mumbles, eyes already closed.
âIf thatâs what you need, I hope you sleep for 21.â You card a hand through his hair before planing a soft kiss there. âLove you.
âLove yâ tooâŠâ he mumbles before already passing out.
ââââââ
ââââââ
After knocking for a third time, Reiben finally answers his bedroom door with headphones around his neck. âOh, hey Wade. Did you need something?â He seems genuinely surprised to see him. Figures. They didnât talk much.
âYeah,â he sighs, mentally bracing himself but still talking with his usual monotone tone. âMy girlfriend insisted I brought everyone brownies and wanted to make sure you got one.â He holds out the tupperware towards Reiben, who has to many emotions on his face to read. He stared at the tupperware for an extra second, as if still comprehending what Wade said before. Wade would almost say he looked grateful⊠or confused? Confused at the offer? Confused at the kindness of the action? Maybe she was right about Reiben, in that he just needed someone to show him some kindnessâŠ
Saving Private Ryan: College AU
Pairing: None
WC: 1.8k
Summary: College life has been interesting for Timothy Upham. Especially regarding his dorm life with hisâŠ
*checks paper*
**checks again**
âŠfive? Five roommates. Surly everything has been running smoothly, right? Right?
Characters/Tags: Timothy Upham, Irwin Wade, Daniel Jackson, Richard Reiben, Stanley Mellish, Adrian Caprazo, College AU, Cussing, Roomates/Housemates, AU Everybody Lives -- just no mention of Miller or Horvath, Domestic Fluff
A/N:
Hello niche Saving Private Ryan fandom. I couldnât be more late but Iâm here now! This fic is heavily inspired by âbreaking all the rulesâ by an orphan account but I really loved the concept (and lowk had never read a college au before⊠sue me but Iâm changed now I promisedâ this was so fun) and wanted to do my own spin on it so here you go! Definitely go read their work for more if youâre interested!
HEY! And if you havenât seen Saving Private Ryan you can still read this. Theyâre just silly college students here so if you wanna just read for that you should be able to without confusion and I urge you too! (definitely not trying to get you to love these characters as much as I do⊠definitely not⊠why would I do such a thingâŠ)
-> Read it on ao3 here!
Yelling was what woke Upham on this fine morning. To be fair, that was the usual. If anything it just meant he didnât have to worry about missing his alarm, because heâd always be woken up around the time he needed to anyway. For some reason, breakfast in this house seemed to be worth starting a war over.
His roommateâs bed was already empty, also per usual. Wade got up super early for all his medical student work. Wade did so much for his major it was unreal. Once, he wrote out his schedule for the week just to show Upham since he was curious. He doesnât think he does that much stuff in a month. It really changed his perspective on his own school work, seeing numerous books open on Wades bed at far to early hours of the morning while working on at least 13 assignments while Upham only had one paper due that week. They made a good team though. Wade was super kind. He genuinely couldnât have gotten a better roommate within the large dorm. Wade was very busy but organized. Occasionally he would miss cleaning up a small mess here or skipping a meal there. In response, Upham would always make sure to have their room spotless for when he came home and sometimes pick him up a coffee or dinner on the way back from his later French classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. All in all, they were good friends. A good team in making their dorm life as easy for each other as possible.
They couldnât necessarily say the same for their other roommates.
âTHAT WASÂ MYÂ CAPTAIN CRUNCH YOU STEALINâ FUCK.â Reiben was clearly furious. It was always something with him. It was like he thought everyone could read his mind and was pushing his buttons on purpose. In reality, no one even knew there were buttons thereâ or, if anything, they werenât labeled.
âThis is why I donât ever eat in the damn dorm,â Jackson deadpans, getting up from the chair at the kitchenâs island to clean out his bowl that mustâve previously been filled with Captain Crunch. Upham rubs some sleep from his eyes and walks into the kitchen to the fridge, unfazed by Reibenâs tantrums anymore.Â
âYou had to know that shit was mine! Who the fuck else eats breakfast in the dorm!â
Through a side glance, Upham sees Jackson grip the bowl a little tighter as is fighting with himself not to launch it at Reiben. Instead, unlike Reiben, he composes himself enough to not start yelling (or throwing) but instead speak very directly and a little extra southernness that usually happened when he got upset. âMotherfucker, literally only I donât ever eat breakfast in the dorm. Even Wade eats breakfast in the dorm, just earlier than you cause heâs doing shit with his life while youâre here arguing over fuckinâ cereal that you can just go buy more of.â
âLazy ass,â Mellish mumbles behind Upham. Upham missed seeing Mellish walk in but finally sees him as he comes to his side, gesturing for Upham to hand him the orange juice bottle he was just pouring from. He hands him it, grabbing his own glass and moves to sit on the other stool against the kitchen island.Â
Thankfully, Reiben shuts up with a dramatic huff and leaves the kitchen. âHe should just go on a reality tv show. Every one of those needs a good douchebag to keep the drama high.â Caparzo says, entering a few minutes after the dramatics. Thankfully, since Reibenâs exit itâs been the usual âno full sentences until weâre all fully awakeâ kind of morning that the rest of them very much preferred. Even Wade, who while could get up however early he needed to wouldnât ever classify himself as a morning person. âJust cause I have to get up and do, doesnât mean I enjoy it. Morning people like itâ it freaks me out,â he said when last asked about it.Â
Jackson grabs his bag and heads out, having an early Electrical Systems class on Thursdays. He was an Electrical Engineering major, which shocked a lot of people here in the North cause apparently everyone with a southern accent should be majoring in Agriculture. Upham found that majority train of thought stupidâ Reiben believed it wholeheartedly.Â
The nostalgic smell of brewed coffee and sound of eggs crackling on the stove filled the room. Upham did like when he got to catch a morning of Caprazoâs cooking. It was always better than anywhere he could stop on the way to classâ perks of living with a culinary student.
Unfortunately, if a breakfast argument didnât wake him up he usually ended up running late and miss it.Â
âI donât know how Reibenâs not always exhausted after wasting all his energy all day on stupid shit.â Mellish snickers, cutting into some of the eggs Caparzo just handed him.Â
âGood thing heâs majoring in Restaurant Management.â
âWhy is that good, he canât manage anything. I asked him to send a group text about meeting somewhere one time and he almost broke his phone in frustration cause people in the group kept asking him questions since he somehow forgot to add in the first text where we were meeting and at what time.â Upham remembers that. Wade almost lost it having to send all those clarifying texts to a painfully vague Reiben.
Caparzo cuts off the stove, finishing cooking the last of the eggs and sliding them on a plate towards Upham, who mutters a quiet âthank youâ, while continuing to talk. âNo but they need personalities to run the bars and serve the customers, yâknow. You can be a dumbass and still make a good drink.â
âDonât insult bartenders like that. Actually, donât insult any line of work by suggesting Reiben would be a good fit there.â
âMaybe Love Island.â Upham speaks up. It takes a beat but after just a second the trio is laughing incredibly hard. Mellish literally gets tears in his eyes.
âShit man, youâre funny. Weird, but funny.â Some people took Mellishâs words very personally, but thatâs just because they didnât know teasing was  how he showed he cared. His jabs were usually truthful but more in an underlying fond way than actually picking on someone, at least once he got to know you. Thatâs why people usually misinterpreted his words, it was sometimes hard to read what he meant. After knowing him for some time though you could usually tell. If one of his friends ever came up to him and said they actually hurt his feelings though heâd stop immediately, not actually wanting them to take his words literally. Except for Reiben. He meant every jab he said to Reiben.
âAnyways, I gotta go, I got a Composition class,â Mellish says, heading to his room quickly to grab his bags. One was his usual book bag and the other held his saxophone. He was a Music Production major. Despite wanting a job more behind the scenes helping with audio leveling he still joined the collegeâs band for the fun of it. Well, actually it was a requirement for his major for him to participate for at least a year but he decided to stay in it after that because he found that he actually enjoyed it. He wouldnât want to pursue preforming (so he says), but he says he likes the people and playing like he did in highschool.Â
âI should get going to,â Upham says, standing to clean off his dishes before grabbing his things. âCliente, Iâll clean up. No worries. Gotta wash the pan off anyway,â Caparzo insisted. Cap didnât have classes on Thursdayâs, which he took to reorganize and clean the kitchen since he used it the most and liked it mostly spotless.
Upham thanked him, knowing he wouldnât necessarily let him refuse the offer, and headed off to his room to freshen up and gather his things. His class wasnât until later in the day but he wanted to sit out in the park to work on a study guide he needed for a test in his German class next week.
âSee you later Tradurre,â Caprazo said with a smile after Upham reemerged from his room looking much more put together than when he first woke up. He loved calling Upham random nicknames in Italian. He didnât think he could handle adding a fourth language to his roster for now, but did get an Italian to English dictionary to study up on a few words he used the most. He mostly took to calling him Tradurre (roughly meaning Translator), but would occasionally throw in a new word he didnât know. Usually something about him being a âguestâ or âyounger brotherâ. He had Italian nicknames for the others too, but for some reason had settled on calling Mellish 'Fish'. They never explained where the nickname came from, but used it so often it was honestly what Mellish usually went by when talking to any of his friends.Â
He was getting distracted. âSee you Cuisinier!â
It was definitely an experience living with all of them. There were challenges and annoyances but if he was being honest, he wouldnât have it any other way.
Summary:
Despite your struggles and the never ending stress, you and Ryland have slowly learned how to heal.
So finally, Ryland can bring himself to you for comfort knowing, for once in his life, he truly has safety.
A/N: I really like these sleepy fics but I never see enough of them so yayayay
(just a sidebar, this fic is also me working out the exact order of events from some of the past fics in this ryland x reader series! so if you're curious about any past events discussed, the fics relating to them are posted. these guys have to many emotions, gotta keep âem straight yâknow.)
-> Crosspost from ao3, read it here!
It was one of those rare moments where you found yourself working in the lab alone. Grace was up in the control room doing research on the data banks watching over a sleeping Rocky, so that left you  to peacefully do some experiments with a little taumoeba.
It was nothing earth shattering. Just looking at the little guys, moving them around, poking them, just trying to write down some surface level information about them.
Things in the ship had been good recently. Throughout this trip youâve learned things about Ryland that he didnât even know about himself. At least not yetâ the amnesia really hit him hard. Stratt should feel lucky youâll never see her again. Actually, thereâs a lot of people in Rylandâs life who are lucky theyâll never meet you. There were many choice words you had to the people who blatantly gave one of the kindest people you knew fucking PTSD.Â
You could go on and on about his misfortunes. If you thought about it for too long it made you want to punch the wall, so you try not to dwell on it. Still though, he used to be so scared of touch. Any brush of hands would cause him to literally flinch back, barely bumping shoulders made him profusely apologize. It put an awful feeling in your stomach. You tried to brush it off as him being uncomfortable with touch, but that trained medic in the back of your mind just screamed abuse abuse abuse.Â
That night didnât help either. He kept getting obsessed with work due to his stress and it hurt you to watch him become someone he wasnât due to his sleep deprivation. He was snappy and short, not the Ryland you knew.Â
He got an injury but didnât even remember much of the night afterwards. It was full of profuse apologies and a moment of vulnerability that will stay with you forever.
It wasnât until you finally gave him a real hug that you realized how stupid you were for not imploring further into the subject with him. He was wrecked, crying for 30 minutes begging for you to stay with the convinced thought in his mind that you would leave or disappear. He apologized like the hug was the most unreasonable ask in the world even though you initiated it.
It took time and honesty for him to feel less guilty over every touch he took. It took you having your own mental breakdown from your ever persistent insomnia for him to realize that it was ok to be a little broken. They both cried tears of wanting to be fixed, and the other was always happy to try and hold the pieces together.Â
The stress didnât stop though, and despite your efforts, fear of imitate death and saving the planet only pressed down harder on your backs as time continued to run out. Ryland slipped back into his unhealthy habits and you drew away trying to push everything down. Unfortunately, like an idiot, you got upset at him for his actions despite subconsciously knowing the cause. You just hurt so much but couldnât let it out. You canât stop the inevitable, so you ended up taking out all your internal pain on him through passive aggressive words in a way you knew would hurt him most.
You almost canât forgive yourself for that. Especially because your idiotic actions brought back arguably his worst memories through PTSD flashbacks. He didnât say much, but from what you did get he grew up in an abusive foster household where cursing was a constant and always directed to him through insults and degrading comments.Â
That alone makes you grip the pencil youâre holding tighter, but you calm yourself. You two worked it out. Well, really you begged, telling him the whole truth about how kind and amazing he is; how heâs impacted your life beyond measure and you love him so much. Youâre not sure if heâll ever understand how important and good he is, but itâs your mission to try.
You hear the latch to the lab open. Thatâs odd, you didnât think youâve been down here that long but sure enough you look to the clock and itâs 2:00amâ three hours from when you first came down here. You realize you donât feel that tired but thatâs probably because you slept in till 11:00am. Itâs now that you realize that Ryland did not, having woken up more around 6:00am for no particular reason but decided to get up and start on some work anyway.
He walks into the lab, almost glossy eyed with exhaustion but determined as he comes to you, whoâs sitting on the lab stool, and basically slumps onto you holding you in a hug.
âRyland, you good?â
âMmm. Iâm good.â
âI was kind ofâŠâ you go to object but think better of it. Work can be done whenever. However, you wouldnât mind at least getting to put the taumoeba away first. âCould I maybe finish this first? I was just going to put the taumoeba away.â You try to ask softly.
âNo, 20 seconds.â He insists sleepily, digging his face into your shoulder.Â
What did 20 seconds have to do with anything? Regardless, you set your pencil and pipette down to hold him.Â
â20 seconds?â
â20 seconds of a hug release stress hormone.â You always knew he was tired when he started to talk like Rocky. âHelps. Just 20 seconds.â
You sigh and draw circles into his back. âWhatever notes Iâm taking can wait. You can have more than 20 seconds of a hug. Cmon, letâs just go to bed.â You try to stand but he squeezes you harder, gently keeping you in place.
âNot yet.â
âRyland youâre about to fall asleep, we both know it.â
He thinks about it for a second, and despite knowing he wants to protest he can almost never turn the rational part of his brain off. âDonât let go,â is all you get, which translates from âVery Tired Rylandâ to âFine but Iâm begging you to not leave me. Please just donât let this end.â
With a dip of your head in minor defeat, you slowly peel him off you enough to slip off the stool and start walking towards near the control room where your bed was set up. He stays close to you walking like heâs dead on his feet, clearly very tired. He holds your hand from behind, his head dipping to lean on the back of your should as you both walk. He can usually stay awake for long amount of time and be really efficient until he remembers youâre on board. The second you touch him with, even just the brush of the hand or pat on the shoulder, the sleep deprivation hits him with full force. You think itâs his body finally getting used to feeling safe and being able to decompress. You swallow the hate for the people of his past and continue onward.
Once your bed he basically just collapses into it purposefully dragging you down with him. Tired Grace always had places to be and didnât care how he got there. Hitting the mattress so suddenly knocks some air out of you, but Ryland isnât stopped as he quickly reassumed his hug, already falling asleep in the crook of your neck.Â
âWere you stressed?â You ask softly with a smile, carding your hands through his hair thinking back to that 20 seconds stress hormone fact. You also just liked hearing him sleepily try to explain things when heâs like this. Youâve asked him about that fact before, about people essentially having no filter when on the edge of sleep. Turns out itâs because the brains prefrontal cortex is what slowly shuts down as you fall asleep, which is the part of the brain in charge of impulse control, logic, and social filters. This leads to peoples more subconscious thoughts to come up and be voiced. If given the opportunity, you liked hearing more about him. He was also very guarded with his feelings and weaknesses, so if given a chance to hear about those you were going to try and hear them.
âLittle, always a little⊠you fix. This fix.â He mumbles, all but melting at your touch.Â
You could make peace with that. It was impossible to be on this mission and not be at least a little stressed at all times. Knowing though that now he was coming to you to get help with it rather than let it stew and only become worse warmed your heart.Â
Itâs something youâve been working on too. It just helps reassure you that things can get better.
They will.
They are.
He holds you a little tighter. âPromis.. wânât leave?â
âYou wouldnât let me if I tried,â you say with a small laugh. He doesnât seem to take that answer though. âWânât leave? Stay?âÂ
You breathe easy. Any anxieties left in you quiet. âYeah Ry, Iâm staying. Iâll be right here when you wake up.â
He lifts his head up just enough to look at you. Despite the effort it seemingly took him, heâs in the past said itâs worth it to look in your eyes just one more time before he drifts off. Theyâre his favorite color, at least according to âVery Tired Rylandâ. Youâve never asked awake Ryland, but youâd bet the answer would be the same just a bit more discrete alongside very red cheeks. He was so easily flustered when awake.
âLâve you. I..mm.. love you.â He nods in your shoulder, even planing a little kiss there subconsciously.Â
The words make your heart flutter. He rarely found the courage to say them awake in implemented fear of loss from his past, so you cherished special moments like these.
âI love you too Ry. I love you a lot.â
âNo..â he slurs, shaking his head slightly. âMe more. I love⊠love you more.â
You laugh slightly, full of affection. Heâs about to fall asleep anyway, so you move his head up just enough to give him a kiss. He blinks at you once, the action barely registering as he drifts off to sleep. Regardless, you catch a small smile come to his face before his head is set back down. Itâs then that you hear Rocky wake up not too far away from you both within his xenonite tunnel. You see him stretch and make some small trills before noticing you both.Â
âFriends go to sleep now, question?â You nod. Ryland does not, his breath already evened out. âGood good timing. Rocky watch now.â He says, grabbing a few of his small Eridian tools to quietly tinker with whatever project he has going on at the moment. You could feel more spoiled with care and compassion.Â
âThank you Rock.â
âNo need to thank. Rocky care for friends. Want to protect. Now, sleep sleep sleep!â
With that, surrounded by the soft hum of the ship, even breaths of safety, and tinkering full of cherished precaution, you easily fall asleep.
Pairing: very briefly referenced Coltland twins
WC: 7.2k
Summary:
âTheyâre just complaints from people who wanted a quick buck but didnât want me.â He mumbles, wiping his eyes from tears he felt starting to form. He hated crying, but he did it so often.
âIâm not bad.â
âThatâs not what your record says sweetie.â
âââââ
Ryland Graceâs childhood is cruel and unforgiving. This is his story.
Tags/Warnings: CHILD ABUSE, HURT NO COMFORT (except for like maybe 5 seconds), touch starved ryland grace, ryland grace has PTSD, heavy angst, crying, panic attacks, ryland grace whump, the author is sorry, minor Colt Seavers mention
A/N:
Hiya! This is some backstory for Ryland just as an au/headcanon kind of deal.
Thereâs some very unsettling topics discussed here, mostly summed up by the word abuse so please read the tags!
ââ for those wondering, this is in fact Rylandâs backstory for the x y/n series I have stemming from the work âWhat Is A Star Without A Sky To Hold Itâ.
-> Crosspost from ao3, read it here
Yelling echoed from the kitchen throughout the small trailer.Â
âKynard, I saw your damn texts you fucking cheater!â
âYou didnât see shit!â
âLet me see your phone, LET ME SEE ITâ-âÂ
Crashes of bottles and shuffles came from outside his room. It didnât bother him anymore. Mommy and daddy were always fighting. He never even knew what they were talking about.Â
He tried to ask one time. He ended up with bandages on his face for a week.Â
So him and Mr.Sheep-Sheep just played trains until bedtime.Â
*Crash!*Â A bottle broke and he lined it up with a train going off the tracks and crashing into a bridge. The train ricocheted off by doing a super cool backflip back onto the tracks.Â
âYour turn Mr.Sheep-Sheep!â He said, grabbing his train and doing a cool trick for him since his plush hooves couldnât reach very far. They helped each other out with that kind of stuff: Sheep Sheep couldnât reach, Ryland would lend a hand; things in the house are loud, Sheep Sheep would cover Rylands ears. It was a win win.
Him and Mr.Sheep-Sheep have always had each other. He was actually his first ever birthday present, but he was of course  just a baby and didnât remember getting him. Say, his birthday was just two days away, maybe Mr.Sheep-Sheep would get a new friend!
Thereâs a loud crash of what sounds like a table breaking in the living room. Thatâs a lot louder than their normal fights⊠but itâs probably fine. It was always fine. Maybe the red dancing lights would visit tonight though. Mom and dad didnât like when that happened. They made him go to the attic when that happened and it was always to dark to play trains up there. Theyâd also sometimes forget to come unlock it until they came home⊠he shouldâve prepped for this.Â
âIâll be right back Mr. Sheep-Sheep.â The plushie sits unmoving.Â
He shuffles over to his bed to rummage through his backpack in hopes that he thought ahead. Papers, papers, papersâŠâ yes! He had a bag of chips and two cookies he scored from winning a game of chess at lunch. (None of those kids even knew what chess was but always insisted they could beat him. He decided he might as well start to try and get something for his time.) Thatâll at least last him through tomorrow. He thinks he can stick it out long enough.Â
He hears more things fall and crash and decides  to go ahead and pack his bag so heâs not left with nothing up thereâ itâs not fun when that happens. Heâs almost certain now that the red lights are coming now. Trains⊠Mr.Sheep-Sheep⊠one of those finger lights he got as a prize from school (he was really excited about winning that. he picked it specifically to use on nights like these)âŠ
His door bursts open.Â
âRYLAND! ATTIC, NOW,â his father says, not looking into his room but standing in the doorway. He nods, putting the backpack on his back (perfect timing!) and walks into the hallway. He wonders why theres red paint strewn around because he doesnât remember seeing any paint earlier, but it was sure enough on the walls and carpet. It probably spilled cause of all the breaking stuff though so he doesnât question it.Â
He doesnât hear or see mom, but he does hear the sounds of the red lights.Â
âShit shit shitââ his dad quickly rips down the attic ladder and pushes him up there as quick as possible. âDonât make a noise, got it?â He says sternly. Ryland nods, and with the closing of the ladder is immersed in darkness.Â
âââ
Hours passed. Heâd run out of homework to so he tried to fall asleep but more shuffling in the house kept him awake. But before sleep can catch him, something unexpected happens. The attic door opened early.Â
âSan Francisco Police Department, make your presence known!â
âDaddy?âŠâ it didnât sound like his dad but that was his only guess. He stands from where his book bag laid as his pillow and walks over to the atticâs opening. Three men stood in the hallway below, one with a gun pointed upward. While his daddy did own a gun, this definitely wasnât him.Â
At seeing him, the man holstered the gun. âWhat the⊠hey buddy. This your home?â His voice softened significantly from his first statement. Ryland nodded.
âWhat are you doing up there?âÂ
âDaddy told me to wait since the red lights were coming.â
The men behind the one he was speaking to looked almost scared at that. He wasnât sure why. âAlright bud, well the lights are gone but we need to get you out of here ok?â
âWhy?â
The man thinks a moment before answering.
âHave you had dinner yet tonight bud?â
âNo. I have two cookies but I was saving them until tomorrowâŠâ maybe this guy didnât have dinner either and was looking if someone would share. He guesses heâd want someone to share with him if he were hungry. âYou can have one if you want.â He goes to turn to grab them before the police cuts in. âOh no buddy, thatâs ok. I was going to take you to get some dinner actually if you wanted.â
That gets him to turn around. His eyes light up. Was he serious! âReally! Like, from an actual resturant?â Heâd only ever been once or twice but both times he remembers Mommy and Daddy being happy. Those were his favorite memories.
The man nods.Â
âLet me get Mr.Sheep-Sheep, Iâm coming!â He quickly grabs his backpack and heads down the ladder. Yellow tape litters his home as does other people roaming it. He doesnât mind though. He was going to a resturant! This was the best early birthday gift ever!
He barely lasted a week at most places. Families who welcomed him with open arms now looked to him with disgust when he didnât know how a vacuum worked. He didnât know how to be a tool. Was he supposed to? He thought heâd paid attention good in school. He thought he still was! But they only ever taught him English, Math, and Science, not how to wash dishes or use correct manners.
He wishes he could stay at school forever. It was so nice there. The teachers were kind, they taught stuff he understood, and they even gave him ice and bandages when he needed themâ even if he forgot to say maâam or sir. They thankfully hadnât moved the school he went to in the past few years. A lot of foster families were trying for foster kids there so they stuck him with  a certain district and heâs been rotating through the ever changing options since.Â
Complaints for his removal were minimal when experienced but blown out of proportion on the paper work.
He forgot to do the dishesâ Rude and Highly Disobedient.
Forgot to say maâam or sirâ Highly Immature and Uncontrollable.
His record looked awful, but he swore he was trying his best. Yet he was starting to think maybe he really was the problem. If you keep doing the same experiment and get the same results⊠itâs surely true right? Thatâs what his science teacher usually said. Something about scientific laws and theories, but laws are very consistently right and therefore accepted as true. Which meansâŠ
âMr.Toivo?â Ryland knocked on his middle school science teacherâs door. The man looked up from his desk, lean and young with brown bangs always draping over his face and getting in his eyesâ which his students playfully picked on him for. He always made some big joke out of it and then would forget what they were doing mid lesson. Ryland loved his class.
âHmm? Oh, hey Ryland, whatâs up?â
âI just had a question about something⊠if that was ok.â
âWas it about that assignment earlier?â The man finds his glasses from somewhere strewn across his desk and re-places them on his face (where they stayed only about 20% of the time) and shuffled through some papers. âI thought I mightâve made the instructions a little confusing, especially when I saw that you were having a hard time with it. You pick up concepts in here so fast itâs amazingââ
âI actually had a⊠uhm⊠personal question? Kind of. If thatâs ok.â
The man looks up from his shuffling through papers to see Rylandâ almost hunched in on himself, nervously fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. âYeah, course it is.â
âIf everyone says something is true⊠does that make it true?â He canât look up from the floor as he asks. He sees the man removes his glassed to prop against the top of his head in his peripheral.
âNo, it doesnât. Just because something is widely thought to be true doesnât mean it is. That is unless 100% proven.â
âWhat if itâs like, 98% proven?â
âThen itâs not true.â
âItâs not?â
âNot entirely. You said it yourself, if something is not 100% proven itâs not 100% true, and that goes for any scientific experiment. If weâre talking what people thinkthough, like opinions, the amount of people who hold an opinion doesnât make it true or false. Itâs just a thought, not a fact.â He grabs a blue ball off his desk. âIf I told you this ball is red, would you believe me?â
Ryland shook his head, looking up from the floor to the man at his desk.
âWhat if I told you everyone thinks itâs red and youâre the only one who doesnât?â
Ryland picks at his nails. âThen⊠Iâd start questioning if I was really in the wrong.â
âBut deep down you know youâre right, right?â
âI⊠I guess.â
âSo why do more peopleâs opinions make something so obviously false so believable?â
Ryland thinks on it for a moment. âBecause⊠well if an experiment keepingâs getting the same results wouldnât that make it true? Like those scientific laws we talked about?â
Something seems to click in the manâs mind. âAh, I see whatâs happened. See, repeated results doesnât always make them true in a literal sense, it just means something is consistently causing those results to happen. That combination of factors is giving a consistent result, meaning that that answer is true for that set of factors. For example, everyone is saying this blue ball is red doesnât mean youâre wrong for thinking differently. Maybe itâs that weâre all colorblind and seeing it differently! Therefore the factors would be that if I show this blue ball to a color blind person, it is true that I will get a consistent answer that this ball is red.â
âSo⊠everyone thinking something could be for a number of reasons that donât include you being wrong? Even if you think you know what the factor is thatâs⊠causing those results?â
âYou didnât consider any other factor other than you being wrong in the ball example. Itâs sometimes hard to look outside our first person perspective, but people come from many different backgrounds that completely change how they process problems and come up with answers. Itâs hard not to feel âtargetedâ per se when youâre outside the ânormâ, but in a world this huge itâs far more probable that your just in an very closed off community where the people who are like you just arenât around.Â
Youâre a smart kid Ryland. You remind me a lot of myself when I was in school. I loved learning and problem solving, but it was hard for me not to feel so out of place among the multitudes of other teenagers surrounding me that hated learning or anything regarding these complex concepts that make up our life.
It made me wonder if I was wrong. I wondered if I should hate learning too. I wondered if I was the only out there who cared because I had no concept people outside who I was around 24/7. Because turns out, thereâs loads of people who love to learn! Thereâs whole Ivy League colleges just for kids who have such a passion for learning. Itâs not that I was weird, itâs that I was just outside of the ânormâ for the community I grew up in.
All that is to say that peopleâs opinions donât really matter. Theyâre just the products of the factors of their past experiences.â
That⊠made sense. Ryland could get that. And if that was true then⊠maybe he really wasnât so awful.Â
âYour promise thatâs true?â His voice cracks. He doesnât remember starting to cry but he definitely is.
He just hated being alone.
âI do bud, câmere.â Mr.Toivo stood and Ryland almost stepped back out of awful ingrained instinct before heâs pulled intoâÂ
a hug.Â
He realizes, only then, that heâs never gotten a hug before.Â
He also realizes, very quickly, that he never wanted to let go.
He ended up going through every foster home in the district by the time he hit 8th grade. That meant they were moving him. That meant heâd never see Mr.Toivo again.Â
He didnât even get to say goodbye.Â
The foster office was as gloomy as ever.
âAh, good morning Ryland.â His caseworker said as he walked into her office for the third time this week. His belongings have been consolidated to one single suitcase. He started doing it a while ago. It was easier that way than pitifully dragging three. At least now he just looked like some punk stupid kid disobeying his parentsâ there were less questions on the street that way. A lot less pity.
He didnât want pity.
He just wanted to stay here.Â
âWeâll be moving you over to District 105, itâs by the border of Utah.â
Utah??? Why all the way over to Utah? That was so far from hereâ he really wouldnât see any of his friends again.
âWaitâ why canât I go somewhere else in Arizona?â
âYou will be in Arizona, just by the border of Utah.â
âThatâs not what I meant! I meant why canât I stay near here.â
âRyland, youâve seen your record.â She slides a paper toward him.
âChallenging Outbursts
Rude
Highly Disobedient.
Acting Out
Talking Back
Highly ImmatureÂ
Uncontrollable
Lying
Resistant to Authority
Defiantâ
âH-half of these arenât even true!â He can feel his hands shaking now. Actually, he thinks his whole body is shaking. âTheyâre just complaints from people who wanted a quick buck but didnât want me.â He mumbles, wiping his eyes from tears he felt starting to form. He hated crying, but he did it so often.
âIâm not bad.â
âThatâs not what your record says sweetie.â
âBut itâs not true! Why donât you people ever believe me!â
âHoney, we know these families weâve been sending you toââ
âYou donât!â
âRyland, you need to calm downââ
But he just breaks down crying. He pulls his knees to his chest and sobs. No one ever believed him. What was he doing wrong? How does he even get better? He never gets a chance to fix anything because people just throw him out before they try to teach him. Heâd listen! He promises heâd listenâ he just wanted to be something to someone. Heâd do anything, but he just wanted someone to care.
And of course, Mr.Toivo cared, but thatâs the one person theyâll actually strip away from him instead of the abusive families they dump him on the doorstep of.Â
âI want to go home.â
He doesnât even know where home is, but maybe if he wishes for it enough it will magically be real.
âWeâre- trying to work that out for youââ
âWhat about Mr.Toivo?â He chokes in a small revelation, lifting his head enough to see her reaction. Sheâs just confused.
âSorry, who?â
âMy science teacher! Mr.Toivo! Could I stay with him?â
She looks conflicted andâ oh he knows that face. The answer is no but she doesnât know how to tell him. âCome on, please! Just call him, he knows me I promise!â
âRyland we need to send you to a more serious home so that you can be in a stable environment.â
âWhâ what does that evenââ
âWe already have a family set up. Weâve sent many kids there before and they always come out well behaved.â
He was almost at a loss for words. âIâ Iâm not an animal for you to train? Just call him, please. Please just call himâŠâ but the door behind him was opening and police were coming to his sides, gently urging him up. He complied but not without trying to convince her with every second he had left.Â
âPleaseâ I promise Iâll be betterââ
âWeâre not permitted to send you with any more regular foster homes Ryland.â
âThey lie to you! Why canât you just see itâ please!â
But the door to the office already shut, and he was escorted to the police car for transport.
âThereâs quite a few rules you need know about beinâ here boy.â
He was so screwed.Â
The house was small but two stories. His bedroom and supposedly on the second floor but he hadnât seen it yet.
The couple sat infront of him was very southern and very intense in their gaze. According to the officers trying to speak with him in the car (in which he didnât respond with a single word), they moved here from Texas and have been fostering ever since.Â
Now, here he sits at the small dinner table covered with an absolute vomit of lace table cloths and covers. Their staring into his soul was really starting to freak him out. The thing is, foster parents usually had this talk with him about house rules and what not, but it was always in a âWe want you to feel welcome here, we just have a few itty bitty rules!â way. The harshness usually came later. Unfortunately, these guys had it right out the gate, looking personally offended by his presenceâ which mind you they signed up for! This only told him one thing:
Itâs only down from here.
âWe take pride in our family and our work fixinâ bratty kids like you, so you will listen or there will be consequences.â
Oh great, how comforting.
âFirstly, you will wake up no later than 6:00am every morning. You will cook us breakfast and have all your school work done by 7:00am. Your bus stops here at 7:30am, and your lazy ass better not miss it.â The woman speakingâs face was pudgy and splotchy. How could she even handle that much makeup on her face? It looks like she has to buy a new bottle of foundation every morning just to keep up her âlookâ.
I mean, if she was going for Ms.Piggy she totally got it.
âSecondly,â the man started. He was just as unpleasant, with black greasy hair that was clearly balding and sweat pouring down his face. Gross.
âWe will set out a list of chores for you to complete before we return from work. You are to complete every single one, no exceptions. We will be checking.â
Man, and he was unlucky enough to end up here as their only foster kid at the moment. He didnât even get company or an extra set of hands to help. Then again, he shouldnât be selfish. Heâs glad no one else is being subject to them right now. Heâll take the punches to spare someone else, he didnât mind.Â
âThird, there are boards on your window.â
What.
âDonât remove them or weâll add more. Lucky you we left enough room for some natural light to come in. Try and remove them and weâll make sure itâs complexly covered to avoid any other arguments. Understood?â
âY-yeahââ that just threw him really off guard. He didnât have long to process thought because within a second his wrist is slapped, hard.Â
âRule four!â Their accent was insufferable.Â
âItâs yes maâam, you hear me dumbass!â
âYes maâamââ he blurts quickly, cradling his wrist with his other hand.Â
âQuit that you wimp bitch, youâre fine.â
She rolls her eyes and settles back in her chair.
âLast thing for you know, your name is Ryland Pryde.â
âOh uhm, no maâam itâs actually Ryland Graceââ
She grabs his wrist, yanking it towards her and gripping it as tight as possible. She slapping the back of his hand literally as hard as she could. âI didnât ask you what your name is! I signed your paperwork, IÂ know. You take me for stupid?â
âWhat? No maâââ
âRight then. Then youâre smart enough to know Iâm tellâin you your name is now Ryland Pryde. You will take our last name and you will be addressed as such. That better be clear.â
He nods quickly. This was really scary.
âIâm sorry, what was that?â
âY-yes maâam! Yes maâam.â
âGo to your damn room.â She flicks her hand up as if shooing him away. She didnât have to tell him twice. He quickly excused himself, grabbing his suitcase and heading up the rickety stairs.
The home looked so soulless. Dirt lined the old peeling wallpaper and dents pressed into the steps of the wooden stairs. Had kids been⊠thrown down them?
Maybe that was just a twisted thought of his fear, but the more he looked at the hall his stomach twisted into knots. Unpainted plaster littered walls of the hallway, doors with old hinges probably held stories scarier than any shared over a campfire.Â
He got to the only open door at the hallway. The room was depressing. Chipped red wallpaper surrounded the worn wood floors. A mattress neatly made with sheets thinner than a hospitals was pushed against the farthest right corner. There wasnât even light coming in through the small cracks of the wood against the window cause of the clouds outside.Â
The rest of the room was basically empty other than one small desk. He walked over to the small wooden chair and sat.Â
The pressing weight of loneliness settled back over his shoulders.Â
It was almost comforting. Like an old friend he knew was bad for him but at least it was something familiar.
It didnât stop the muffled sobs that came from him as he set his head down on the desk.
He hated crying.Â
Why couldnât he just stop? It couldnât be normal to cry this much.
He just wanted a hug. Why did Mr.Toivo have to give him one of those? Heâs been ruined since. His skin has been burning with yearning. Heâd even try and grip his arms sometimes in hope the pressure would make him feel⊠anything really.Â
Man he was pathetic.
He was supposed to go in high school next year and all he could think about was wanting comfort he didnât deserve.Â
Well, he did, but he didnât expect this many.Â
Many of the homes he went to had him do chores. A lot of the time he wondered if they mistook the foster system for a personal maid/butler program.Â
The list plastered on the fridge seemed endless.
Dishes
Vacuum downstairs lounge
Polish silverware
Rake backyard
Rake front yard
Cut backyard grass
Cut front yard grass
Mop (Down and Upstairs)
Sweep (Down and Upstairs)
Dust (Down and Upstairs)
Laundry (KEEP ALL SEPARATELY WASHED AND FOLDED)
Take our trash (from ALL rooms)
Make beds
Polish stairs
Fluff pillows
Make table
Cook dinner
They surly didnât expect him to do this inâŠ
He checked the clock: 3:15pm.
They came home at 5:00pm.
He had two hours?! Less than actuallyâ maybe this was the chores for the week? He knows they said yesterday it was daily but maybe that was a fluke? They had to know this was impossible to do in two hours, right?
Not to mention he was exhausted. Of course their âdaily breakfastâ included anything they could imagine: toast, eggs, pancakes and waffles (there wasnât even a difference in batter but they insisted), and hand squeezed orange juice (which they had to making him do out of spite). It took so long he almost missed the bus cause they kept adding new things they wanted just as he was to leave to get his book bag ready. Thankfully, the bus stop was just a block away so he was able to run there just in time.Â
He hoped the school would at least be some kind of escape. It always was before.Â
He really needs to stop hoping.Â
It was a private school. He didnât think that that would be a problem but heâs pretty sure every person he passed whispered to someone beside them about his worn jeans or old t-shirt. Those werenât his fault though? Why hadnât the Prydeâs given him the uniform? They had to know where they were sending him. He specifically heard comments from kids about how âdirtyâ he looked because of the clothes few holes and stains. He wasnât dirty, his clothes were just worn. Did they not understand there were things kids couldnât control? Was this really his fault too?
Maybe he should tried harder to look for the uniform (even though he didnât even know he needed one)? Maybe he was told and he forgot? Now heâs super unsure. It probably was his faultâŠ
Oh noâ  he got distracted. Itâs already 3:30pm. He rushâs to the sink to get started on the dishes from this morning and thereâs so many. He tries to slow his panicked breathing by getting started. There were so many plates to clean and for some reason these people didnât have a dishwasher. He forgot he needs to polish the silverware tooâ
Heâs really starting to panic now. Itâs clear they already donât like him and he really didnât want to make it worse. He was sure he was worth something before but heâs starting to question that more than ever now.Â
Through blurry eyes heâs able to push through and get the dishes on the drying rack before settling for wiping the silverware down with a towel hoping that would suffice. He didnât know to how polish anyway, no point in wasting time trying.
He skims over the list again. Heâs not sure heâll get to outside so he decides heâll at least try to finish inside. Trash is taken out, pillows are fluffed, and he spends way too long finding the vacuum before being able to start. Itâs like he can feel every second pressing down on his back as the time slips away.Â
Thankfully, he finishes the vacuuming by 4:30. He thinks heâs making good time but then he looks back at the list. Heâs not even close to finishing the inside: mop, sweep, dust, make beds, laundryâ oh he hasnât even started one loadâ the bed, and dinnerâ
DINNER! Crap crap crap he forgot about dinner.
What was he even supposed to make them? They didnât list it, maybe eggs again? It was honestly all he knew how to make without a machine like a toaster or waffle maker.Â
He quickly cracks some on the stove and runs upstairs to start a load of laundry.
4:45
He canât find the mopping stuff so he settled for sweeping. Of course thereâs no dustpan anywhere so he rushes to make a bunch of small piles heâll pick up later.
4:50
The eggs! He runs to check on them and.. fuck! He forgot to turn on the stove. Heâs so going to get it now. Turning the stove back on, he grabs a plastic plate to sweep up his scattered piles of dust.
4:55
This was so bad. The stairs werenât done, he didnât even get to their beds! Itâs getting harder to breathe the more he thinks about it. He just puts all the cleaning supplies away, deciding heâs done what he can do, and heads back to the kitchen.Â
Flip the eggs, start the new eggs, donât burn yourself Ryland donât burnâ
He yells out in pain, dropping the pan he was holding as he tried to plate the eggs. His hand slipped, grabbing the straight metal part of the handle not protected the rubber. It burned bad, his hand already scathed in red and orange from the burned off skin. Eggs were splattered all over the cabinets. The pan probably burning a mark on the wood floor below but he couldnât do anything about it. Heâs never been so in pain.
Matters only got worse as the front doorâs lock clicked.
âWhat theâ Ryland GRACE!â It wasnât a tone of concern, it was one of pure and utter rage. Mrs.Pryde stomps over to the kitchen and all but throws the pan into the sink.
âI ask you to do one fucking thing! One thing!â The slap to his face made him literally fall to the floor.
âGet up. GET. UP. TO YOUR ROOM. To think you tried to tell those foster workers you were worth somethinâ! Get! GET!â
âM-my hand,â he mutters in tears and pain. âItâll heal like any other wound, quit WHININâ!â One step forward towards him was all it took to send him running to his room like she asked.
He shut the door as quiet as he could, sliding down it as he cradled his hand and hyperventilated over the pain.Â
âWhy canât I just be goodâ I just want to beâŠwhy⊠why canât I be goodâŠâ
The pain only got worse. He felt dizzy, and despite having his glasses on the world went blurry.
They never did come back to check on him. Not even now as he layed on the floor two nights later. They hadnât spoken to him, fed him, and definitely not given him anything for his hand. Once he woke up, very dazed that next afternoon, he managed to wrap an old shirt around the hand to try and forget about the pain. Instead of âforgettingâ about it, he just ended up slipping in and out of consciousness at the intense stringing coming from the untreated burn.
He did find the bright side of his desperate situation though. Sure they locked him in his room, but that meant he didnât have to cook any meals or do any chores these past two days! He doesnât think heâd be able to with his hand anyway, so itâs probably for the best.Â
Every moment awake is still agony though. Every time he opens his eyes something else has been added to his sufferingâ headache, stress, loud noises downstairs that make him flinch, and eventually his entire body aching with pain.Â
Silent tears fell down his face as he rolled over onto his stomach just to feel more of the cold hard floor. It was more grounding than his brick of a bed was; he doesnât even know where they even bought a mattress that uncomfortable.Â
He started to wonder. He couldnât help it.
What did he do to⊠deserve this?Â
He felt so stupid. He always felt like he was missing something. Whether it be a punchline, social cues, or how he âshould actâ, he just couldnât be normal. He didnât know why he was so different, but he almost wished he wasnât. He almost wished he was like everyone else so heâd stop getting hurt.
He thinks about it at night. About being ânormalâ. It was so ridiculous because he didnât even know what being ânormalâ meant. He just knew how to be him. Was that so bad? He didnât think soâŠ
He tried to follow rules. He tried to be interested and do his best in school. He tried to make friends. What about those things was âweirdâ? And on top of that, what actions are he taking that make him âbadâ?Â
Why was he so unlovable?Â
He wished he just knew. Do the people who have been in his life not understand heâd change anything about himself just for⊠love? A hug? A pat on the shoulder?Â
Who is he kidding, heâs being selfish. Maybe that was his problem. Maybe he should stop wanting and start accepting. Accepting that⊠his interest in science and school must be stupid. Accepting that all kids his age should be sneaking out and drinking or something. Accepting that kids should do everything adults say.Â
Something in his gut told him all of that was very, very wrong but⊠he didnât know what else to do. Was there even anything else he could do?
Heâs brought back to reality by a growing jabbing pain in his side. Itâs only now that he realizes it hurt because he was so lost in his fucking poutingâ
He could feel himself physically flinch at tha train of the thought. He couldnât even escape his fosters in his thoughts. Every curse reminded him of them.Â
Heâs so pathetic.
Putting that aside, he pushes himself up with his good hand enough to see a floorboard jutting up out of place. After some slow and careful maneuvering, he's able to sit up and pull at the floorboard. Surprisingly, it easily comes up and out.
He probably shouldnât be doing this, but he canât help it. His curiosity has been aching for something new to latch onto since he hadnât been giving any textbooks or work from school yet. Or maybe that was his body reeling from pain.Â
Inside the floorboard wasnât much room at all. It wasnât enough room to put much of anything but maybe a piece of paper or somethingâ
Wait, thereâs paper. He wipes his eyes, trying to wipe away some of the residual blurry mess from his previous tears. He carefully grabs the folded paper and opens it. Despite expecting nothing, he finds⊠a letter?
My name is Colt Seavers. Iâm fourteen years old. I grew up in Los Angeles. I have likes and dreams and hobbies. I love movies. I want to be in movies. I can do it. They canât take that away from me. I can do it.
The words are scribbles quickly; a contrast to the more neatly written paragraphs below.
Sorry about above. Iâm scared Iâll forget everything about myself in this hellhole. Iâm going to assume if your reading this your another foster kid of theirâs. If not, I donât care. Stop reading. I donât have any words for any one else but them.
Youâre not a bad person. Iâve been in this foster shit since I was 4, itâs dumb as fuck. Assholes will kick you out for not being their personal servant. If youâre like me, you ended up here as a last resort. But you donât deserve to be here. No one fucking deserves to be here. You deserve to be in a loving house with people who care about you.Â
These people will abuse you. They probably already are if youâre desperate enough to start clawing at the floor boards of your room. The second I find a way to get whatever fostering license they have revoked I will. If Iâm being honest, I hope no one reads this. I hope no kid is in a position to find this letter. Unfortunately, Iâm not blissfully naive. Youâre here, youâre reading it, and I, a powerless fourteen year old, was too late.Â
So Iâll do what I can now.Â
Thereâs a medkit in the closet. Obviously, keep it hush hush. Thereâs a part of the wall in the right corner where the shoe boxes are stacked that pops out. Itâs behind that, stocked with hopefully everything youâll need.Â
Donât be stupid. Play this place smart. Survive. Please fucking survive. If when I escape here I find out some kid died after me I wonât be able to handle it. I need you to live. You can do it. Please donât give up.
These people are wrong. Actually, a lot of people Iâve met are wrong. Youâre your own person. Youâre allowed to have interests. Youâre allowed to be different. People make fun of me all the time. They say my dreams for my future are stupidâ that Iâm just some kid with shit grades and no family whoâll end up as another cog in the miserable 9-5 workforce. But I wonât. I will prove them wrong. It doesnât matter what your background is or who you are, if you care enough you can achieve whatever you want.
He sees dried spots of water on the paper.
What Iâm trying to get at is donât let these assholes in your life shape who you are and who you want to be. You donât have to be like everyone else. It might seem like youâre alone. It might seem like thereâs no one else out there like you, and that it must be something wrong with you if everyone else is so ânormalâ. Itâs not the case. My last foster family was so awesome. They were actors. Theyâre my biggest inspiration. Theyâre so kind and loving and movie nerds! And it just made me realize⊠not everyone is a stuck up pretty piece of shit. There are people like me. I love them so much. Of course the stupid system took their fostering license cause theyâd need to âmove too muchâ with their jobs. They just didnât like them because they were kind. Being an asshole must be a requirement to foster apparently. I donât know. I miss them.
I keep getting distracted. Iâm sorry. I havenât had someone to talk to about all this before. Not someone whoâd listen anyway. The âtherapistsâ they tried to assign to me were lying⊠awful, awful people.Â
Iâm sorry you canât talk to me. At least not in person right now. Maybe write me a letter? Iâll try and find it someday. Itâs helping me right now at least to know I might not be alone. Maybe it will help you?
Youâll get out of there. Youâll survive just like me. Just you wait, there will be movies with my name everywhere. Iâll be so much more than these prideful Pryde scum. So will you. I know you will. They canât stop you and they wonât.Â
Do great things. Survive. Whoever you are, I love you. Youâre the best. I want to meet you someday. Stay as safe as you can. Be smart.Â
Donât conform to others. Be something different that they need to see.Â
I love you. I believe in you.
- Colt Seavers
Thereâs new wet spots on the paper now. He wipes his face from the tears he doesnât remember falling. Quickly and quietly, he rushes to the closet and pushes through racked clothes to find that blessed spot in the wall. Popping it out, he finds a flashlight, a medkit, andâ five bags of skittles.Â
He stifles a sob as he grabs the medkit, hastily opening it and finding everything he could possibly need.
Bandages, disinfectantâ burn cream.Â
The shirt wrapped around his hand comes off and before he knows it the burn cream is applied. The relief is instant, the medicine numbing the wound immediately. He absolutely crumbles in tears, using said shirt to muffle his pitiful whines of relief.Â
He doesnât cry just because of the freedom from the pain, but the inner freedom from his loneliness. It was like a hand yanked him up just as he began to fall into the abyss.
He wasnât alone. How crazy was that? It wasnât all in his head!
He believed Colt. That letter was too emotional to be fake. No one would have a reason to write such a thing except maybe the Prydeâs as some mind game, but they werenât smart enough for that honestly. They wouldnât be able to describe all of his struggles so accurately.
It was too real.
It was real.
Colt was real.Â
And he escaped. Heâs proof that⊠that he can survive this. That thereâs more to come in his life. That this isnât the end.Â
Play this place smart.
The words ring back through his head. Coltâs right. He wills himself up and back to the room, carefully folding back up the letter and replacing it and the floorboard perfectly. He knows it wonât stay like that for to long thoughâ heâs going to reread that letter thousands of times.
Then, he goes back to the closet and thinks. As much as he wants to wrap bandages on the wound, he doesnât want to get caught with them.  If he got all of this taken away he didnât stand a chanceâ physically or mentally.Â
He settles for three normal bandages. He decides itâs believable that he had those stuffed in the bottom of his book bag. Then, he rewraps the hand with a new, clean t-shirt. Hopefully, they wonât even ask for him to take it off. As long as he did whatever work they later asked of him, he could get away with this.
He could play this smart. He could survive.Â
He packs the medkit back up and opens one of the glorious packs of candy. He doesnât remember the last time he had candy, but heâs sure it was never as good as this.Â
He eats half the bag. Heâs tempted to eat the entire bag in his hunger but holds off. If he can keep these as a treat, he will as long as he can. If they become a necessity to not starving, heâll stretch them out despite their already small size.Â
Replacing the wall and all its coving back perfectly, he reenters his room. He feels⊠good. Obviously not the bestâ heâll never feel his best in this houseâ but better than he has in a long time.Â
Heâs motivated. He feels confidence for the future bubbling inside of him. For once, heâs able to see past the obstacles in his way toward a bright future. Toward a future where he could do whatever he wanted. He could talk to people who liked science as much as him! He could research and learn, and even look out for kids like Colt did for him.Â
That what heâd do. That how heâll repay him. Heâll help as many as he can once he gets out of here. Heâll make a change. Heâll be different.Â
His bed is still hard as a rock, but it doesnât bother him. Not tonight.
Not with the first slivers of comfort heâs felt in years holding him in a soft embrace.
Summary:
Ryland wonât stop overworking himself.
He doesnât really know why.
Neither do you.
But itâs tearing you both apart.
Aka: Ryland Grace has an awful past but doesnât remember it⊠yet
Tags/Warnings: MENTIONS OF CHILD ABUSE, DISASSOCIATION/PTSD EPISODES, Ryland Grace has PTSD, Everyone has issues, Everyone needs a hug, Established Relationship, Unhealthy Relationship/Communication Failure, Implied/Refrence + Past Child Abuse, Panic Attacks, Heavy Angst, Sleep Deprivation, Arguing, Exuastion, Crying
A/N: Being stuck together 24/7 will inevitably lead to difficulty. Itâs how you address it and overall get through it that counts. But many of us make mistakes.
Old habits donât die so easily.
Reader makes not great decisions.
âââ
This is pretty sad but what can I say, Conan Grayâs Wishbone Deluxe came out and it was so devastating I couldnât help myself but write something sad with these broken lovers.
--- Ryland is so Class Clown coded so... iykyk
-> Crosspost from ao3, read it here
It was your least favorite thing to watch, and especially your least favorite thing to experience. Ryland had a bad habit of whenever he started a project, being able to stop before he finished it. Usually, heâd have to be forced to stop by his body.  Youâd always find him micro sleeping and taking small naps he didnât remember until he finally crashed and slept for 16 hours all at once.
You assume this habit was one heâs had most his life. No one was in his life on Earth or up here to stop himâ at least not until she woke up. Rocky was with him for some time before then, but she had a feeling that Rocky had to figure out for himself that human sleep schedules were supposed to be far more consistent than Ryland made them seem. Especially because of how Ryland acted when he lost sleep.
The longer Ryland didnât sleep the worse his anxiety got, which in turn led to him being more irritable and argumentativeâ the complete opposite of his usual self. He never remembered it, and after his crash would wake up guilty, crying, and clingy trying to make it up to her his harsh words and mistakes.Â
While his apologies were authentic, it was starting to be to much.Â
He always apologized, but never changed.
You really cared about him, and knew he cared about you just as much. Heâd lose his mind if you ever tried to pull a stunt like his overworking all-nighters. He was already concerned enough with your involuntary insomnia, you canât imagine the mental torment youâd cause him by making him watch you do it willingly.Â
Which is why you needed to get him to stop.  You couldnât watch him work himself down to his limitâ physically and emotionalâ over and over in a never ending painful cycle.
Therefore, âdrasticâ measures had to be taken.
It started simple enough. Itâs been three days since his last crash, and he was back to normal now. He wouldnât have another obsessive episode for at least two to three weeks (the usual time spanâ yes itâs⊠happened enough times for you to have the time in between measured) so it was a good starting time for your efforts.Â
âHey Grace, have you seen the laptop?â
He turns to you from where he was talking to Rocky. A slight look of confusion crosses his face but itâs gone as quick as it arrived. âOh, yeah itâs just in the lab.âÂ
Not long after⊠âGrace, wanna come look at some of the notes I have downstairs?â
You donât see any confusion on his face but thatâs fine with you. Youâve always been patient in your petty ways. You show him some random notes on Xenonite and then others of topics and events they should discuss with Rocky about Earths history. All in all, all is well. For now.
The days continue.
âRocky have you seen Grace?â
âGrace, I need your help with something quickly.â
âIâm alright, thank you Grace.â
Itâs been a week and heâs visibly uncomfortable:
Youâve almost never called him Grace.
Youâve always cared about names. Itâs just one of those things youâve always valued. While he insisted whatever he went by didnât bother him, whenever you woke from your coma and began consistently using his first name the effect was immediately noticeable. At first he would look surprised and insist you didnât have to call him that, but it wasnât hard to read the appreciation and comfort on his face as you used it more and more.
Therefore, his last name from you tended to only be used when you were upset with him, whether it be literally or playful (in which thankfully the latter was more common).
But now itâs the new normal, and you can tell he knows somethingâs wrong. Heâs stuttering more in his replies after you say it, fidgeting more often, and seeming really thrown off by it.Â
Today, you and Rocky were sitting in the lab as you jotted down some notes about his culture that he discussed with you. You both took turns sharing species history, and today was his. However, he just shared the interesting fact that they also have fun dances that can be interpreted as communication like bees do on Earth; how neat!
âHey Grace! Come down here real quick!â You yell from the lab. It takes longer than usual, but he does eventually arrive down the ladder with a slightly weary look on his face. âUhm.. hey. Yeah? Whatâs upâŠâ
âEridians dance like bees do on Earth! They can communicate with it and everything, isnât that neat?â
âWhat bee, question?â
âRightâ forgot about that. Bees are small living organisms on Earth that help certain plants grow through something called pollination which Grace can probably explain better than meââ
âY/N?â He timidly interjected. You look to him, turning from where you were facing Rocky.
âWhy are you⊠only calling me Grace? Did⊠did something happen? Did I do something?â
Youâre tempted to break right there, his pitiful apologetic look in one of those stupid nerdy t-shirts, but you hold strong.Â
âUh, no, you didnât do anything.â You shouldnât lie, but itâs too late you decide.Â
âYouâre.. sure?â
âYeah. No worries. I thought you liked Grace? Itâs what Rocky calls you.â
Now guilt is creeping up on you but you push it down. Down down down downâŠ.
You give him a sickeningly sweet smile. He tries to smile back.Â
Key word:Â tries.
ââââââ
The days continue, and continue, until inevitably the predictable happens. Heâs back to not sleeping again. Youâre pretty sure that this timeâs obsession is about Rockyâs species. Youâd even bet moneyâ if it was relevant in your guyâs situationâ that it was about that stupid bee Eridian fact from a week prior.Â
You havenât been able to bring yourself to even be around him this time around. Every time you even think about him you feel sick, especially because you know the second you see him it will turn into some kind of argument. Heâll barely remember it, but the scars his words leave on you will barely fade before the next morning youâre caring for his with reassurance and insistence that youâre ok.Â
The pretending is too much⊠you just canât do it anymore.Â
Of course, donât eat an apple and sure enough here comes the doctor, right up the lab ladder just as you turn away from it in the control room chair hoping he doesnât talk to you or really perceive youâ
âWhat are you doing?â
Dang.
You take a breath. You donât turn around. âNothing. Did you need something?â
His voice was slurred and weary but nevertheless determined. âI was hoping youâd come help me with some research downstairsââ
âNo.â
A pause. Then his tone, like a switch, resorts to anger. âWhat?â
âNo Grace. Iâm not.â
And so the rodeo begins.Â
âWâ Y/N you know how important all of this is!â
âHow many time are we going to argue about this?!â You canât help but stand and face him. You really do try to keep your calm but knowing heâs hurting himself stubbornly is just the button to push to get you defensive. Defensive against him when heâs literally fighting himself.
âI guess until you realize the urgency of the work weâre doing!â
âI donât want to watch you hurt yourself anymore!â
âIâm not hurting myself Y/Nââ
âNoâ you keep pushing your body to its limit when thereâs no eminent reason to! I know weâre going to die someday, alone out here never to be seen againâ thank you for the thousandth reminder! But right now everything is fine so can we please just live and do what we need to without our doom at the forefront of our every waking moment!â
You donât remember starting to cry but you hear tears softly fall onto the metal floor of the control room.Â
âYou just donât understand.â He slurs under his breath, waving a hand of dismissal seeming to turn around to go back to the lab.Â
That really rubs you the wrong way. Something just⊠breaks. Not in anger, but in over-exhaustion. You canât do this.
Your shoulders slump. You feel the defeat of trying to reconcile his habits draining out of you.
âFuck you RylandâŠâ you mutter, no longer meeting his eyes. âIâm done.â
Your voice isnât strictly angry or exhaustedâ itâs that even more miserable in between:
Hurt.
You turn towards your makeshift beds you had put next to each other. It helped both of your sleeping issues, holding one another and remembering that youâre not alone out here in this impossibly dreadful fate. But youâve never felt more alone than now.Â
You grab your designated blanket and pillow, begrudgingly placing them back in the spot they laid many months ago.Â
Everything feels broken but thereâs no one left to put you together, so youâll have to settle for getting comfortable in the pieces again.
He leaves down the ladder and you bury your face in your pillow, trying to turn your thoughts off but failing amidst soft sobs.
A glass like substance nudges against you.Â
âWhat wrong, question?â
You canât bring yourself to speak or lift your head. Dread weighs on you like pinned blanket.Â
âWhy move bed, question? Grace and Y/N always sleep in proximity.â
That only starts the tears again.
âY/N in pain, question?â This time he speaks with with a bit of urgency. Thatâs enough to get you to wipe your face and compose yourself to answer clearly before he started freaking out. âNo, no pain.â
Rockyâs stills in a stance of confusion. âNo understand.â
âMe and Grace got in a fightâ with words, not physical pain.â It was always important to specify details with Rocky, even though youâve never and never will physically fight Grace.
His body language says enough though; he understands now.Â
âGrace not sleeping again, statement.â
You hum in agreement, putting your face back in your pillow in hopes to keep the emotion running through like a river from flooding your entire being.Â
âWill go speak to Grace.â Oh no.
âNo- Rocky no. Itâs fine.â
âIs not fine. If Y/N upset then Grace upset.â
âYeah Rocky heâs upset with me.â
âNo. Upset you upset. Has told me.â
You canât be bothered to argue. Youâre so tired of arguing. Your mind wants nothing more to escape it, so it shut down to the soft sounds of his clinking capsule.
âBad bad bad.â Rocky said, tumbling into the lab. Grace couldnât help but roll his eyes. Everything was annoying him, even his only friends. He didnât think before speaking, just acted.
âOh great, Y/N sent you down here huh?â He filled his voice with as much snark as possible. He was so scared sick of them interrupting him. If she wasnât going to help then she just needed to back off.Â
Theyâve talked about his âunhealthyâ way of working but this is how heâs always done things. Itâs easier this way to just get it over with. Whether it be grading papers, writing papers, doing experiments, heâs always felt rushed like time was always actively running away from him.
Heâs not sure why.Â
He knows exactly why.
âNo. Y/N crying. Grace reason. Why Grace no sleep, question?â
âBecause Rocky, this is important stuff we have to document and she doesnât even care!â
âY/N does care. Care a lot. Worry about Grace, humans need sleep.â
âShe doesnât care about me.â He tries to grab a pen on the table only to miss completely. Weird. He tries againâ misses. He tries again only to see there was no pen there in the first place. That was⊠odd⊠but it didnât matter. He shakily turned and grabbed a new pen from a drawer behind him. He just needed to write a few more things.Â
âGrace stupid, statement.â Rocky says very seriously. Scarily honest.
He rolls his eyes. Maybe if he does it enough it will make the pang of dread that just washed over him from that statement go away. âGrace is not stupid, Grace is busy.â
âGrace will fall asleep eventually andâŠ
alwââ tâ -/N
aâ- hurtâââ
â-ly ââââ- aâ-â
His whole body jolts like shocked with a minuscule amount of electricity. Rockyâs words come into focus.
ââ-ve Earth and Erid.â
He feels groggy but his stubbornness pushed through enough to help him say something legible.
He waves Rocky off despite him now angrily ramming into him with his capsule. âJust leave me alone Rock.â
âWill not! Grace make mistakes and will only realize after sleep like always. Grace never learn.â
His mouth goes dry but he ignore the feeling. âI-I do learn. I learn!â It was getting harder to keep the conversation up. What had he even said to her earlier? Did she cuss? She never cussed⊠was it something about her helping him? And then he yelled at her⊠whyâd he yell at her?
That thought seems to hit him a second time as it processes.
Why did he yell at her.Â
He canât remember.Â
He canât remember the words but he knows it was bad because she looked at him with a look of pain heâd never seen before.
He did that.
Whyâ why would he do that.
What was he doing?
Why was he doing this to them?
He didnât want to hurt themâ
âââââââââ
âRY-LAND GRACE!â
A stern southern womanâs voice rang through the house. His foster mom. He knew it was bad whenever she used his real last name. He scrambled to finish cleaning his room. She always gave him the longest list of chores to do before she came home at 1:00pm sharp. It was always an impossible amount to complete, with varying degrees of ridiculousness like âreorganize the storm bunker pantryâ and âcomplete book reportâ which wouldnât even be due for two months but she since she got a glimpse of the itinerary paper it was a new thing to harass him with. Heâs pretty sure she got joy out of berating him. Actually, scratch that, heâs positive of it. Sheâd check every location of every task and anything not done would be screamed to his face with great detail.
Maybe even a hit if he missed an easy one like washing the dishes.
He just wanted to do his best. He just wanted someone to be proud of him, because maybe he really wasnât good enough. Maybe if he just tried harder, worked faster, that heâd be worth something someone could be proud of.Â
âIâM TALKINâ TO YOU BOY!â
Various curses swirl through his mind, as if happily sewn there by her herself. They werenât ones he wanted to sayâ they were ones he knew to be true.
âPiece of shitâ
âDumbassâ
âFuckinâ failureâ
âWimp bitchâ
ââGracefulâ my assâ
âBratâ
âI ask you to do one fucking thing! One thing!â
His door slams open. He freezes, just a few pieces of laundry in his hand he needs to hide and his room wouldâve been spotless. He was so closeâŠ
âWell look at this. Thought I wouldnât catch you in your damn pig sty now did you?â
He needed to speak but his mouth was dry. In a choking attempt, he tries to defend himself with whatever he can muster.Â
âN-no maâamâ
âSo now weâre lyinâ are we? Comeâere!â
âPlease noâ please, please! Iâm sorry I-â
~~~~~
ââŠand that is my book report on âThe Outsiders.ââ
And no one clapped.
âââââââââ
He needed to apologize. He needed to fix things before it was to lateâ he knew that now, painfully soâ but his body wouldnât move and Rocky has been talking this whole time but he hasnât heard a word because his vision is getting blurry andâ
He had an awful headache as he blinked his eyes open. Makes sense as he realizes he fell asleep on the lab tableâ again.Â
Y/N was gonna be pissed peeved.
He finds his glasses and looks around the lab. Itâs a mess, notes strewn on every surface with illegible writing. Something about bees and their dancing communication. Do Eridianâs do something similar? Itâs the most he can roughly gather from the notes. The writing was so bad, he couldnât even use any of this. Why did heâ
âFuck you RylandâŠâ
He froze at the memory. It all came back to him now. Without another thought he rushed up to the control room only to see her blankets and pillows moved back across the ship.Â
He felt his breathing pick up as his anxiety only worsen.
Heâs already been super anxious recently. Sheâs never fully ditched his first name before, not unless she was mad but she said she wasnât.Â
He now regrets not having taken his therapist up on that offer to try anxiety meds back when he had the chance.
The weight of his actions truly began to weigh on his shoulders.Â
Did he lose her? The one person whoâs actually cared about him? Did he really push her away to the point of hating him? Failure failure failure failure.
He shouldâve known with her change in nickname weeks ago. He tried to convince himself then that he was ok with it, but heâd give anything to hear her say -yââ-d one more time.
Wait. What? What was his⊠what did she call him again? How did he forget his nameâ
His breathing only got faster.
He forgot his name.
Maybe he can logic himself out of this? His last nameâs Grace⊠right? Or was that his foster parentâs last name⊠oh no. Who was he?
Was he even him anymore? Were those actions last night who he truly is? What if his foster parents really were right, what if he really is good for nothing, what ifâŠ
ââââââ
âI just donât know Rocky,â you say as you move a checker piece on the board between you and him. You were feeling a lot better today.Â
Last night was a lot, understandably, but youâve been working yourself through its events and recovering mentally.
âWill he forgive me?â In doing so, youâve begun to feel very bad about your choices in handling the situation.Â
After taking a moment to step back away from your feelings, you realize how pointless your stupid petty name change was.Â
Not to compare him to the animal, but when training a dog you have to make it clear that theyâre being punished right after they did something wrong. The point of that example being that there was no way for him to know what you were upset with him over because you didnât tell him. Like the dog, if you never try to change its ways it will never know it was doing something wrong in the first place. While itâs obvious to you that Rylandâs overworking is harmful to the both of you, itâs of course not obvious to Ryland who barely remembers the fights and then hears no further complaints form you afterward.
It was stupid and you owe him an apology.Â
âGrace will forgive. Rocky sure of it.â He takes your last three checkers pieces in a swift three time diagonal âmove. âGood game Rock. Who knew you were so good at checkers?â
âGame easy for Rocky to understand. Rocky head engineer on Erid.â Makes sense. You specialized more in the medical field, being originally designated on the ship as the Medic by Stratt while Ryland was designated the Researcher.Â
The instincts of your trade had come to you before the ability to actually call on the knowledge. Like a month ago, when Ryland got a deep cut you knew how to give him stitches like second nature. You were also able to easily explain medical practiceâs and certain mental disorders to him with ease without even really realizing you were doing so. Since then, the information has come in larger portions, and youâre starting to feel like most all of your memory is in tact.
Rylandâs been doing through something similar, but you both havenât talked much recently amidst the arguing and consoling.Â
Which, now that you think about it, you did talk to Ryland that month ago about possibly having ADHD. It didnât go past that night, but it only makes you wonder if any other factors could be causing his actions that you hadnât considered before amidst your intense emotional strain.Â
You decide itâll be best to talk to him today when he wakes up. He canât read your mind so thereâs no reason in being petty and prolonging the problem when heâs already asked you do something was wrong and you pushed him away.Â
You stand from where you were sitting with Rocky. âSay, Iâm going to go see if Ryland is up yet.â
âIâm going to go see if Ryland is up yetâ Rocky repeats.
âOhâ no I didnât meant for you to actually say that. Itâs another human expression.â
âWhy humans say word when not mean word? Make no sense.â
You shrug and head to the ladder.Â
ââââââ
There was no where else to go. He felt like an animal in a cage. Theyâd boarded up and double locked his window, gotten rid of every phone in the house, and were roaming downstairs like a predator on the prowl.Â
He made a mistake. A big mistake. He forgot about his foster dadâs birthday. He was supposed to cook them dinner before they came home but he hadnât been able to get out of bed due to the aching and bruising littered across his body from the night before. Yesterday heâd been disrespectful for asking for seconds at dinner. He thought heâd done good this weekâ he thought maybe heâd done enough to ask for just one thing. That maybe they wouldnât even notice. That maybe⊠heâd been enough for once.
But now here he is, knees to his chest in his closet praying they didnât check there even though he knew they would. He just really didnât want to go back to the ER. They always asked to many questions he knew he wasnât allowed to answer. He knew it would only make things worse.
âHow dare you disrespect the Pryde name boy!â Steps stomped up the stairs in anger, shaking the whole house with every one. His body shook violently with fear. He couldnât cry cause heâd be found far too easily. Heâd been saving this spot, curled up in the back half of his closet behind a laundry hamper and some empty shoe boxes. He had to survive. He had to.Â
He grabs a t-shirt off a hanger and bit down on it, trying to suppress the sounds of the sobs his body wouldnât let him stop.Â
He hears the door to his room open, making a louder sound than usual. He thinks it came off the hingesâ
âWhen I find you boy, youâll regret ever stepping foot in our house!â
âI didnât have a choiceâŠâ he mumbles involuntarily, too quiet to be heardâ too ignored to be acknowledged.
Why couldnât they just say his name? Was he not even worth being recognized as a person? Was his failure that immenseâŠ
It was. He knows it is.Â
The closet door opens. His blue eyes glint as he looks up in the light.Â
âThere you are.â The man says, and within seconds hands grip his shoulders.Â
He tried to writhe away, pleading alongside his tear streaked face. âPLEASE! Please Iâm sorry! I didnât mean itâ I c-couldnât do it! You know I wouldâve Iâ please!âÂ
Why wasnât he hitting yet. This surly wasnât mercy so he almost wishes heâd get it over with.Â
A hand holds his cheek. Heâs so scared heâs going to die.
âRâââ!â
His visions so blurry, he canât hear anything.
âââ âe? â-laâ-!â
He closes his eyes and waits.Â
âââ-nd?â
âRâaâd?â
The hand pats his cheekâ not scratch or punch or ripâ just gently pats repeatedly.
âRyland!â
He opens his eyes to seeâ
Y/N?
Y/N!
He grabs her into a hug as quick as possible. A lifeline, someone who cared, someone he ways safe withâ
âFuck you Ryland⊠Iâm done.â
The memory of those words haunt his thoughts in a constant replay. He canât lose her, which means he has to be less. He caused all this anyway, itâs his fault. Who is he to take her comfort after all his mistakes?Â
He quickly lets go and backs away against the wall. He tries to hide his eyes with his sleeve and wipe away the tears quickly.Â
âWhat are you doing?â She asks, confused. Was this not what she wanted? He doesnât understand. Fuckinâ failureâ
He canât even speak correctly over the sobs. âDonât, I donâtâ Iâm sorry. I did thisâ y-you donât need to help mâfine, mmâfineâŠâ Maybe if he said it enough itâd be true.Â
âWhat?â no Ryland, you didnât do this? This isâ I was upset with you for something else we needed to talk about Ryland but not this.â
âWho isââ
She speaks quickly. âI- I was upset you were overworking yourself just seemingly because but now I think I messed up really bad. I meant to just talk to you about itâ- why didnât I just talk to you about it? You werenât trying to hurt me, I know you never would do that. I know you. So I donât know why my stupid brain made it all about me. Itâs not about me because I could see you suffering too. You needed help and I just made it worse. Iâm really sorry Rylandâ really sorryââ
âWhoâs Ryland?â
She stops her rambling, eyes looking up to meet his. The question seems to take an extra long time to process before she shakily answers.
âYouâŠ? Youâre Ryland. Ryland Grace.â She stutters.Â
âOh,â he breathes. âRight, Iâm sorry.â The words are barely audible as he shies away while speaking them. Waiting for the inevitable punch to hit.
âIs something going on? Other than, I mean, the usual.â She nervously adds.Â
He debates asking a question thatâs crossed his mind but it spill out regardless.Â
âAm I a good person?â
She seems to have an answer pretty quick. Itâs not one he expects. âYes Ryland. Youâre the best person I know, did you know that? First of all, before this you committed yourself to teaching so many kids, helping build up a world that always tried to tear you down during your molecular biology days. Youâve changed so many lives. Youâve changed my life. Youâve shown me kindness and care when you yourself barely wanted to accept any back. Youâre funny and nice and very pretty. Every time I feel down you find a way to cheer me up expecting nothing in return. Itâs my fault for not noticing you were struggling sooner. I was petty and I was wrong. I love you Ryland.â She gives him a quick kiss before continuing. âI love you so much that I canât imagine being here without you. I love you so much that Iâd never go back to Earth if I knew you couldnât come with me. I love your long-winded science rambles and your nerdy science shirts. I love how you explain things to me without making me feel dumb or insignificant. I love you Ryland, and I never want you to question that again. Iâm sorry.âÂ
She pulls him into a hug and heâs just a mess. She holds him tight like she could truly keep him together. Heâs starting to think that maybe she can. He cries so hard that his whole body hurts. He has to take his glasses off from where they were hanging from his face because they were so close that the lenses would crack sooner or later from the pressure.Â
âIâm not worth all that.â He chokes out.Â
âWho told you that.â She says seriously back.Â
His voice is shaky and hesitant but he presses on. âMy parents⊠or I guess my foster parents. Both, really. I didnât remember them until now b-but the memories came back like how they did when I first woke up from the coma. They cursed a lot⊠I think thatâs why I never do. They⊠theyâŠâ his vision starts to blur but she pulls away from the hug enough to ruffle his hair and get his attention back. âStop thatâ you donât have to tell me. Theyâre not worth your breath anymore unless it will help you to talk about it at some point. But we never have to talk about them ever if you donât want to. I promise.â
He nods, pulling her back into the hug. He doesnât think he can talk anymore but heâs starting to feel a little better.
She starts running her hand through his hair and he canât help but let out a sob. Heâs never felt so safe before.Â
A warm glass nudges against one of his sides. He knows itâs Rocky from the small musical trills he hears. Heâs not saying words, just melodically doing humans equivalent of humming. He usually did it when he was focusing on something but now he seems to be doing it almost as an expression of care. Like a sweet lullaby expressing his care in a way that words couldnât describe.Â
He thinks, for the first time, he knows what love feels like.
