#richas and cellbit is my weakness
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happy holidays my friends! my gift to you in these trying lore times is canon divergence <3 angst? what’s that? i only know richas and pepito have gotten ahold of mistletoe—
The kids are planning something.
The kids in question? Richarlyson and Pepito, who have been chittering and giggling almost nonstop since they finished opening their presents, using their notebooks instead of signing so their parents can’t figure out what the fuck could be about to happen.
Cellbit and Roier stop trying to figure it out when they get denied information the third time, so they can only trust whatever the two hatchlings were plotting isn’t going to be explosive, at the very least.
Nothing in fact happens for a long while, and one could assume that maybe they don’t have any plans in mind. Maybe they’re just gossiping.
(God only knows how much Richarlyson loves to.)
And then the party happens. An island-wide thing, per most of the major celebrations. There’s a whole new area, too, decorated similarly to spawn. A snowy little wonderland, with colorful blinking lights strung between tall pines decorated with large ornaments and occasional garland.
(It’s a welcome change from everything that’s been transpiring over the last few weeks.
A chance to recuperate.)
Roier is talking to Étoiles and Bagi when something tugs his pant leg, and he looks down.
Bright eyes and big, round glasses are looking right back up at him. “Pepiux?”
Pepito grabs his hand instead, trying to pull him away. “Ay— ¿Qué pasa, Pepito? What the fuck?”
Pepito only tugs his hand again, more insistent. The hatchling is smiling, though, eyes twinkling with mirth Pepito has failed to conceal, and at the very least, Roier knows something hasn’t gone to shit. “Okay, okay. Vamos, Pepito, vamos.”
He’s led over to under some tree a good distance away, but he doesn’t see anything. The spider-hybrid looks around, shooting Pepito a questioning look, but Pepito only beams with no elaboration, still holding his hand.
Roier keeps looking around. Is he supposed to see something? Nobody seems to be doing anything unexpected.
And then he looks up. “No mames, wey— Pepiux, you sneaky—”
“Guapito?”
He looks back down, and finds his husband being led by a very determined-looking Richarlyson. “O que é isso, Richas?” Cellbit laughs, and warmth blooms in Roier’s heart at the sound.
The hatchling lets go of his hand when he and Roier are standing directly in front of each other, and Pepito finally lets go of the spider-hybrid’s, too.
Cellbit copies Roier and looks up, eyes widening slightly. But then a smile creeps onto his face, and his piercing eyes are shining in a way the lights can’t provide, in a way his husband hasn’t seen in a long while.
How the kids placed the mistletoe up there, they’re not gonna question.
Instead, their focus is on what the hatchlings added to the holiday sprig: pink amaranths.
Cellbit looks down at Richarlyson and Pepito, who have just finished a high-five and are looking extremely pleased with themselves. He quirks an eyebrow. “We’re literally married, you guys.”
Richarlyson whips out his notebook, writing with a comedic ferocity before holding it up. AND? YOUR POINT IS?
Pepito lifts his own notebook, a lot less aggressive as he bounces in place. FELIZ NAVIDAD APAS :-D
The cat-hybrid chuckles to himself, shaking his head. His attention is diverted by hands settling on his waist. Roier’s smile is soft, and he’s looking at Cellbit in a way that makes him weak, mind going pleasantly fuzzy. “Oi…”
“Hola, gatinho,” Roier murmurs.
(Satisfied, Richarlyson and Pepito slink off, giggling at the prospect of the next part of their grand plan.)
Cellbit closes the space between their bodies, one arm wrapping around his husband’s neck while the other cups his face. Roier feels a familiar coil around his leg.
The spider-hybrid spares one last glance up at the customized mistletoe before pressing their foreheads together. “Well? You gonna kiss me or what, pendejo?”
“Pendejo? With that mouth of yours?” the investigator quips.
“It’s more fun, no?”
Cellbit hums, his thumb brushing along Roier’s cheekbone. “Claro.”
And with that, Cellbit tilts his head and the distance is closed, eyes fluttering shut as they melt into the kiss.
Subconsciously, they hold each other tighter, pulling each other impossibly closer. The world fades out around them, until it’s nothing but each other.
(They’re already as close as they can get.)
(Not that the fact will stop them from trying.)
They don’t pull apart until their lungs are burning for oxygen, watching each other closely as their hearts race in their chests.
Their silent stare at each other hardly lasts a few seconds before grins are splitting their faces, foreheads pressing together as their shoulders shake with silent laughter.
But then Roier makes a sound, unable to keep quiet, and that’s all it takes for them to both fall into proper laughter. Cellbit’s head drops to his husband’s shoulder, burying it in an attempt to stifle the growing noise.
(He hears Roier through his laughter, “hijo de puta, Cellbo—”)
They rock in place until they’re finally able to calm back down and catch their breath, and Cellbit lifts his head. He moves his hands back, cupping Roier’s face in both and studying him fondly.
“Told you it was more fun,” the latter chirps, and it takes more self-control than Cellbit cares to admit to not start laughing again.
(Roier’s always been good at that: making him laugh even at the simplest of things.
Maybe it’s less Roier and more a testament to just how whipped Cellbit is. But that’s nobody’s business but his own.)
(Since day one.)
The cat-hybrid rolls his eyes, not a trace of malice to be found. “Whatever, man.”
“Ey, man, what the fuck?” Roier moves a hand from Cellbit’s waist, putting it to his heart. “You know I’m speaking facts. Pure facts.”
“Cállate, guapito.” The cat-hybrid pinches one of his cheeks.
“I have a better idea,” his husband answers.
Cellbit doesn’t even get a chance to ask before Roier’s hand is against the back of his head, threading through his hair, and their lips are pressed together once more. A little less gentle, a little more passionate, but no less perfect as it speaks the words they don’t need to.
(Te amo. Te amo. Te amo.)
(And across the way, a flustered scientist and an equally-flustered war veteran find themselves under a red-rosed mistletoe.)
(A very Merry Christmas, indeed.)
#*looks at ending* yknow i had to do it to ‘em#since we can’t get mistletoe spiderbit in canon I DID IT MYSELF#BC FUCK YOU CANON#slash lh#god i miss meus pais so much#qsmp cellbit#qsmp roier#spiderbit#qsmp richarlyson#qsmp pepito#qsmp#blue writes qsmp
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And done! Mostly archivists, some Roier, Fit, and the rest of deathfam at the end. TW: aftermath of torture, major character injuries, fantasy sickness, ooc warning for probs everyone but the situation is fucked so who knows. It's 6638 words please just take it as it is and love it or at least the idea for me <3
The doorbell rings, and it pulls Cellbit from his sleep. He’s curled on the floor of the fear room, having never quite made it to bed last night. With a bit of effort he pulls himself to his feet, cursing out whomever decided to wake him at this hour.
If it isn’t important, he’s starting another murder spree.
“Coming!” he calls, unsure if it will reach, as he takes the elevator up and then stalks down the hallways.
He gets to the doorway, and rips it open. With a sigh he prepares to berate them, only to freeze as he opens the door.
It’s Philza.
Philza. Who has been missing for a little over two months.
Philza, dressed in rags and smelling of blood.
“Philza?” He asks, looking over him, looking for his wounds. “We missed you; where've you been?”
And it doesn't matter that Cellbit had been asleep, because Philza is somehow alive and somehow back, even after so long. He can’t be angry, not seeing him wide eyed and like this.
He doesn't get a reply, just a shake of Philza's head. He sways in place, stumbling into the wall. Cellbit reaches out, taking his arm and trying to support him.
Philza looks at him, and there's a purple taint to his eyes.
Some sort of void sickness?
What the fuck.
Cellbit wants to ask, wants to scream and to shout, but there are clearly much more pressing problems here. Instead he takes a deep breath, and tries to position himself to take more of Philza's weight.
Cellbit is a wet tissue of a man, strength wise but he could swear Philza was never this light before.
Philza, who flinches at the touch, then all but collapses against Cellbit's side.
“Do you have a warpstone?” Cellbit asks, already thinking through if he has the supplies to make a spare. “We should probably get you to the infirmary…”
The weight on Cellbit's side is suddenly gone. A trail of bloody footprints stain the stonework as Philza stumbles backwards, rapidly shaking his head. All until he's pressed against the wall and the… then he just shakes.
And, fuck, Philza is usually a sensible one. But it's been months, and he's wounded, and Cellbit can see the signs of torture and knows the obvious culprits but…
“Okay,” he thinks, and thinks again. “Okay. My drawing room then. I have the first aid kit Mike made for Richas somewhere.”
Philza calms, and hesitantly nods, and goes as if to stand before leaning back against the wall, and offering out hands instead.
Why isn't he speaking? Void-sickness, possibly, but if so Cellbit would expect the taint to be visible on his lips or throat. Roier would probably say something about trauma, but Roier isn't here right now - he's taken Richas and Pepito for a sleepover at Foolish's dragon and, hell, at least the children aren't here to see the blood on the floor.
He'll have to clean before they get home.
Still, Cellbit takes Philza's arm, helping him drape his weight across Cellbit. He drags more than carries him, and most of their movement is kept going only by Cellbit.
Beneath his hands, Cellbit can feel things - too thin, but then the Federation has probably starved him (why is he void-sick, if the Federation took him? That doesn't add up but who else would it be?). There's dried blood beneath his fingers, and some tacky like the scabs have not quite been able to set. There are ridges, too, new scars born across his skin. Philza’s own fingers are weak against Cellbit’s arm, hurting and blistered and the skin scraped like he had been scrabbling in gravel.
Torture. Cellbit knows what torture is.
He wonders if Philza remembers any of it, or if he is like him.
Either way, Cellbit is going to find Cucurucho, and rip his spine through his neck.
With a trail of bloody footprints they make it to the drawing room. Cellbit helps Philza sit, making sure he is steady before letting go. There's a water jug left on the table, so he gets Philza a glass, and hands it to him.
Cellbit doesn’t ask ‘where the fuck have you been’ like he wants to, nor does he comment on the man’s state, instead he says “wait there. I’ll get some potions” before turning and sprinting back up the stairs.
Potions, bandages, stuff for stitches, water and soup - he grabs two buckets of water and a bottle or three of antiseptic, too, just to be sure. Did the Federation have him? It’s the only answer Cellbit can think of - from just a brief look Cellbit could see he was covered in wounds, friction burns on his ankles and wrists while his feet bled, and he looks half-starved. He’s pale, too, too pale, and he isn’t sure whether to hope it’s blood loss or lack of sunlight as both options suck.
He messages Roier, just in case - Missa he’ll worry about later, once he knows what is going on. No need to worry Philza’s loved ones in the middle of the night, and certainly not when they’re surrounded by people.
HIs knife goes in his belt - there’s no room for mistakes.
And then it’s sprinting back to his front room, only to find Philza is… gone?
He would call it a hallucination, if not for the bloody footprints still all over his carpet, and the still-full glass of water beside the sofa.
“Philza?” he calls, swallowing the crack in his voice.
Did the Feds steal him back from his own damned house?!
There’s a shuffling nearby. Cellbit turns, looks up, sees Philza perched on his toes, bloodying the top of his bookshelf.
“Sit back down and let me see where you’re hurt,” Cellbit points to the chair.
Philza looks about and around, curling tighter into himself. He stares at the window.
Jumps down.
Bolts towards it.
Crashes into the glass.
There’s a very definite noise of main, but it’s muffled and something about it is /wrong/.
Cellbit grabs his shoulder, steadying him, leading him back to the sofa. His own hands are shaking, and Philza keeps glancing back to the window.
What about the window is wrong…?
As soon as he sits down, Cellbit goes to examine it. He cannot see anything odd, but pulls tight the curtains just in case.
“Better?” Cellbit asks.
He does not get a response, so he just hopes that he is.
The next question is… What first… Philza’s body is an itinerary of injuries - his face and his wings suspiciously intact but for the exhaustion and the void-sickness in his eyes, the stain also dappled across his nails and small patches of skin - but Cellbit knows what he wants first.
Everything is bad, but it is Philza’s feet that are bleeding.
So he grabs everything and kneels before the sofa. Carefully, watching Philza as closely as he is watched in return, he takes one of his feet. Cellbit has to pick the remains of utterly ruined shoes away, just tiny scraps of the fabric which once made up the uppers and soles. Beneath that are the wounds, and around it the blood.
Some of it is stones, and mud, and sticks, and dirt.
Some of it is blisters, a mark of how long Philza must have been walking.
Some of it looks suspiciously like very, very deliberate slash marks - all across the soles of his feet, and across the backs of his ankles. They’re deep, and surrounded by cross-hatched scars of equally thin slashes, like the wounds have been applied again and again and again.
If Cellbit were to cut someone’s feet like that, it would be to stop them from running. With how deep the slashes are… He doesn’t think that Philza was ever supposed to walk again.
“Fuck,” he feels himself swear and this… this doesn’t look like the Federation at all.
The friction burns around his wrists and ankles, looking like chains, sure, but the slicing…? They’d trust their bars, and they’d torture with something bigger, and if you are genuinely a flight risk they lock you away. Not… Not this.
It’s just as cruel, but not really in their style.
So he’s killing Cucurucho and someone else, then. Just got to work out who, because he cannot think of anything else on the Island which would trap someone in the void.
Still he slowly works on picking out the debris, doing his best to clean the wounds with a cloth dipped in clean water and antiseptic poured on it as he goes. The wounds are so extensive, though, and dirty, that…
Well, Cellbit isn’t a doctor; he pours the entire other bottle of antiseptic into one of the water buckets. Once he’s done all he can with his fingers and the cloth, he shoves Philza’s foot into the bucket.
Philza makes a strange noise; Cellbit checks, but he is gestured at to continue, so… So he repeats the actions.
The second foot is, somehow, worse; the cuts are shallower, but there’s barely skin between them.
Cellbit is out of his depth, he’s so far out of his depth, but they need treating now, and Roier has yet to answer the message - he’s probably, like everyone else, already asleep.
He picks out the gravel, and places this foot more carefully into the antiseptic bucket, and prays it’s enough to avoid an infection.
From there he moves to where he felt blood before, tracking the wounds. These ones are smaller, simpler, much more like their usual issues. Cellbit knows how to clean up a cut and bandage an awkward shoulder wound - he’s done it before. He can bandage to give pressure to a sprained wrist, and he’s certainly had his fair share of blistered fingers in his life.
The quantity is wrong, all wrong, but actually tending the wounds is something anyone of the island could have done.
And then… And then he must get carried away, too busy charting them, too busy tracking the black-ish stains on Philza’s stress and trying to calculate how bad the void-sickness is, too occupied to be taking proper care.
Because he does not mean to scrape a blister on his palm, tearing it open and letting the fluid leak out.
But he does.
Philza screams, but it does not come fully out. Neither do his lips open, the sound trapped in his throat and his nose, and Cellbit…
Cellbit has a horrible realisation.
“Philza,” he asks. “Philza, can you open your mouth for me?”
Philza shakes his head.
Wait, English is ambiguous, maybe… Maybe he’s not…
“You can’t, or you won’t?”
One shaking finger is raised.
And Cellbit slowly nods.
He’s known things like this before, he’s seen it before - he’s done it to people before - but think of it being done to someone who has only ever trusted him, only ever tried to help or be his friend…
“Can I touch your lips?” he asks.
Philza doesn’t react at all. He stares at Cellbit and barely even breathes.
Still Cellbit approaches, hesitant hands reaching out. He cannot see anything, not like this, so…
So if he’s right…
It’s not glue.
He’d be able to feel it if it were glue.
Slowly, carefully, he pushes a finger between Philza’s lips
and there, at the back, he finds the stitches. Thin but strong, pulled extremely tight and narrowly sewn. There’s not even space for a straw, and Cellbit knows how to fix this but he’s not sure he /can/.
He doesn’t even know who he needs to dissect.
“I…” he stares at it, leans closer to look, examines the thread - it was white, once, but it’s brown with dried blood and spit. They’re set so far back that they’re sewn more into Philza’s gums than the skin of his lips.
Cellbit pulls his hands away, “I don’t think I can help without hurting you.”
Philza tilts his head to the side, and gestures with bandaged hands.
He seems… resigned. Like he expected this.
Scared, too, glancing now at the door.
Who can Cellbit ask for help? Philza would probably want Missa, or maybe Fit or Etoiles or… Someone else early. But Fit is helping Missa protect Chayanne and Tallulah, and Etoiles is knee deep in /something/, which…
Roier might know. Pac and Mike are scientists, they could. Foolish has all sorts of strange skills, as does Bad.
He could just put a message in the general chat, but he really, really doesn’t want to do that…
And, there is also the problem that everyone is asleep.
“I’m going to get you some pyjamas,” Cellbit decides on, rather than making a decision before he’s worked out the right answer. “Will you be alright?”
Philza nods, his eyes already drifting to the door.
Cellbit hates it, hates how wrong this all is; Philza should not be curled on his sofa, clutching at himself, injured and shaking in fear. But, he is, and there is very little that Cellbit can do about it.
Something to wear is a start though - he heads back to his room, leaving Cellbit behind. Nobody on the island has a lot of spare clothes, but he manages to find a clean and relatively soft nightshirt at the bottom of a chest. He shakes out the worst of the creases, deems it serviceable enough, and heads back.
Philza is gone.
Again.
This time Cellbit checks for the footsteps - wet and still slightly tinged pink. Cursing the man and everything else he runs after, hoping he didn’t get too far.
He finds him very close to the bridge’s warp plate. Cellbit grabs his arm and, this time, Philza fights back.
It’s not a long fight, only seconds before Philza is limp in his grip and doing his best to snarl despite his sewn together lips.
The stitches don’t tear, but his skin does.
“Stop that!” Cellbit tries. “You’re making it worse.”
Philza /freezes/ when Cellbit yells, and his heart drops somehow further into his feet.
“Just… Come back inside? Please?”
Cellbit is so fucking tired.
Philza… Shakes his head.
“Philza.”
He pulls away his arm, and tries to run.
It’s not…
“Why are you running?”
It is far from the tone that Cellbit usually asks that question in, but it’s still one.
Philza… Does pause. He can’t even mouth his words, but he gestures to his eyes, and then to the darkness around them, glancing over his shoulder as he does.
He’s been looking around a lot…
“You’re being chased?”
Given someone was clearly trying to keep him wherever he was, it’s the obvious conclusion.
He nods - once, twice, gestures harder at the darkness and makes to keep running.
And then his eyes catch on a rose.
Missa had mentioned something about roses, how they were supposed to protect the family. There had been a garden of roses, the children asleep and Philza and Missa sat talking beneath the moon. And then Phil just… Dropped through the floor mid-sentence. Gone, before Missa could grab him. Gone, just like that, from a garden that should have been a sanctuary but whose leaves were withered now.
They’d looked and they’d searched and they’d hunted, and all that could be found was a small hole, with purple-touched darkness beneath.
Much the same colour as the void-taint in Philza’s eyes.
Cellbit picks a rose from the bush, and hands it to Philza, “Missa mentioned they’re… protection charms for you?”
At the mention of Missa, Philza's eyes snap from the flower to Cellbit, eyes suddenly much wider and Cellbit…
Cellbit maybe should have said sooner, because all he would want to know if he’d been tortured is if Roier and Richarlyson were safe.
“He’s safe,” Cellbit promises. “Foolish is hosting a sleepover for the Eggs tonight - he took Chayanne and Tallulah.”
Philza doesn’t look like he believes him.
So, Cellbit presses on.
“He showed me the rose garden, though the flowers were dead,” he continues. “And the… hole? Portal? Void-patch?”
Philza wriggles his hand, holds up three fingers, and huh. Between the rose and talk of Missa, he at least seems to have calmed a tiny bit. The talk of a dead garden seems upsetting, but he clings to the rose in bandaged hands like something precious.
“It was very small, very precise. Clearly whatever took you only wants you,” and Cellbit is spitballing, only hoping he is on the right track both emotionally and logically as he still pieces it together. “It hasn’t taken anyone else, either; even if you stay in my house, it’s unlikely it will take me.”
Frankly, Cellbit doesn’t care if it does - all the more chance to create a distraction for one of them to kill it - but he knows Philza will.
Because it’s Philza, and he’s a better person than Cellbit ever had the chance to be.
“So, please, come back inside?”
Philza looks at the rose, then at Cellbit’s hand, then hesitantly, very hesitantly, takes it.
It’s hard work, leading Philza back into the safety of the castle. He’s edgier than before, and keeps being startled by the slightest sounds. He is usually vigilant, noticing the smallest of oddities, but to jump at every animal scurrying in the underbush…
Cellbit sees him reach for an axe which is not there, and maybe that’s part of the problem too.
They make it back to safety, and Philza clings to the rose even as his feet are cleaned again - bandaged this time - and he is helped into the nightshirt. Cellbit has always been the taller of the two, but they were once of similar builds - it should not hang nearly as loosely as it does.
With his lips sewn shut… Cellbit isn’t sure he can help.
“They’re probably asleep, but do you want me to text Missa? So he can bring Chayanne and Tallulah in the morning?”
Philza hesitates - if he’s still being chased… Well, Cellbit can guess why the concern.
“I can put some wards down, and ask them to come with Roier? He’ll look after them.”
He gets a nod this time, though it is slow.
Cellbit pulls out his communicator, focused as he tries to think of how to tell Missa - it’s not even a case of what would he want to know if Roier was in Philza’s situation, because Missa… Cellbit doesn’t know the man well, but they certainly have very different personalities.
In the end he settles on ‘Philza appeared at my place last night. He’s hurt, but I’ve been looking after him. Get Roier to show you over. Doesn’t have a communicator or anything.’
He shows it to Philza, who hits send, and then with clumsy, bandaged fingers writes ‘Did HE hurt you? Be safe - HE still wants me.’
That message is sent, then another is typed. It’s just as slow, Philza obviously frustrated as he has to delete duplicated letters. Still, he turns Cellbit’s communicator towards him, and shows him the message.
‘Cut it’
That those words took three minutes and clear /pain/ to write cuts deeply into Cellbit.
Just being stabbed is too kind for whatever did this. Cellbit will tear it apart with his /teeth/.
“Cut what?” he asks.
Philza hesitates, before stealing Cellbit’s knife, and bringing it to his lips.
“Stop!” Cellbit grabs his wrist, disarming him far more easily than he should have been able to. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
The reply he gets is a withering glare.
It’s good to see him have some confidence back, whatever the roses mean, but if he’s going to use it to hurt himself…
“I don’t… Think I can do this,” Cellbit licks his own lips, running a thumb of Philza’s.
His hand with the knife in it is grabbed, and tugged on.
“Fine!” If he doesn’t, Philza’s going to do it as soon as his back is turned, isn’t he? “God, I’ll try. But just enough to drink something, okay? I don’t trust myself.”
There’s a long pause, but eventually Philza nods. Cellbit swaps his knife for a smaller switchblade, flicking it open and peeling Philza’s lips open. He aims for the centre where there is least risk of damaging other things, carefully slotting the knife through…
Fuck.
He manages to cut a few of the strings, but in doing so he catches Philza’s lip. It’s not a deep cut, but he can see the blood bubbling.
He wants to lick it.
He presses a tissue there instead.
“Hold this, just let me get you a straw.”
Cellbit waits to make sure Philza has the tissue held in place - he’s smiling at him, how is Philza smiling at him when he /cut/ and /torture victim/ - before running to the kitchens.
How is he being trusted like this? He’s a fucking murderer, a heartless, cruel man; he isn’t…
He isn’t someone you fucking trust with a knife near your face.
What has this island done to him? He doesn’t mind it, doesn’t… He doesn’t hate it, he actually likes it - the having friends, the having family, the people relying on him.
It’s fucking terrifying, though.
This has only proved that.
He still needs some moments to calm down. His hands shake with the memory of blood on Philza’s lip, and it’s all he can do to pour some soup into a saucepan, and set it on the hob. Half-remembering the last time he starved he adds extra water, thinning it down. While it cooks he makes himself tea, and fetches Philza water, apple juice, and a selection of straws.
It takes a few minutes to warm the soup through. Once it has, Cellbit has just about found his footing again. He serves it up, and carries everything through.
“Here, sorry about the wait,” he says.
Philza has somehow found a second rose, and is awkwardly braiding them together. With his hands it is loose, but Cellbit can see what he’s trying for.
His lip has stopped bleeding, at least.
Neither is put down as he’s handed the glass of water. It takes Cellbit a few moments to work out the problem, but eventually realises; with his own fully functional hands he helps Philza angle the straw through the gap in the stitching, and lets him drink.
He drinks like a dying man, and Cellbit supposes it’s close enough to true. He doubts either of them have any idea how long his lips have been stitched together, but it’s long enough that the thread is stained…
Philza manages the water, then looks curiously at the rest of the tray. Cellbit offers it to him; he hesitates over the juice, but points at the soup.
Cellbit checks the temperature first - drinking the water had been slow enough to cool it down a little at least - before helping Philza once again. This time he has to help support the bowl as well as the straw. It’s awkward, but they manage it between them.
About a third of the watery soup is managed before Philza refuses more.
Cellbit has no idea if that’s good or not.
Still, they’re both exhausted, and it’s something to keep him going, and Roier will be here in the morning. Roier isn’t a doctor, of course, but Cellbit trusts him with significantly more delicate things than himself.
Cellbit can be dexterous, but delicate is for investigations not handiwork.
Forcing Philza to walk again on his injured feet seems needlessly cruel; the sofa is not the comfiest place to sleep, but Cellbit would put money on it being the comfiest place he’s slept in a long while.
“Sleep here - I’ll go grab some blankets,” Cellbit says, and he leaves, and by the time he returns Philza has already passed out on the couch.
He tucks the blankets around him, making sure he will stay warm overnight; the castle is draughty at the best of times, and when someone is sick and injured is not the time to tempt fate.
Then he sits on the floor beside the bed, knife in his lap, meaning to think and meaning to keep guard.
Most of Philza’s injuries are just torture wounds. They say little about his captor, or what they want. He’s clearly been in the End or the Void for too long - his eyes have a hint more purple, there’s dappled stains across his skin, and Cellbit isn’t sure which symptoms he has but it will probably make him struggle for warmth and fuck with his brain. That should be something like proof against this being a Federation ploy - they don’t seem to have easy access to other dimensions - but is not definitive.
The slicing on his feet despite the lack of it on his wings also is not definitive, but does not fit their usual goal. Unusual location and unusual goals? Probably not them. Stitching inside his mouth… Adds to that, really, the Federation are more cut your tongue out or sedate people sorts, not sew them up.
A goal, a goal… Philza’s face and his wings are mostly untouched, which would imply some awful… display piece, Cellbit supposes. The rags of his clothes would count against it, but perhaps he was only allowed to wear them when he was needed. Despite that appearance he could not have been that highly valued - the stitching in his mouth prevents drinking, so he would have died in another few days. Mentally scattered, but does seem to recognise people and places still - Cellbit rules out brainwashing, or at least if they tried it they failed. The injuries don’t imply anything sexual, which leaves…
Cellbit runs through it all again. Nothing quite makes sense, except…
End entities don’t like water, do they? Maybe they don’t need to drink.
Do they even need to eat? Or do they exist on some other sort of sustenance?
If he was held captive by something with no need to eat or drink, the sewn up mouth is no longer incompatible with the idea of a trophy, or a prize…
---
At some point Cellbit must have fallen back to sleep, because he wakes up to yelling. He doesn’t even think - he grabs the closest item - bucket of water - and throws it in the direction of the assailant.
He recognises the voice about three seconds later, when Roier shrieks.
“Fuck! Sorry!” Cellbit’s awake now, hair stuck to the side of his face as he scrambles up.
“Bitch!” Roier shakes off the water then, realising Cellbit is getting up, latches onto him.
Now they are both wet.
“Are you okay?! Roier’s revenge is had, or maybe not as wet hands trail all over him. “Fuck, Gatinho, don’t message me asking for medical advice at 3am and leave blood on the carpet! Come wake me up next time!”
“I’m fine!” he promises back. “I’m sorry, I’m okay, I’m fine - is Missa with you?”
“Missa?”
Roier left before Missa was awake. Fuck. Hopefully he works it out, because Cellbit’s too asleep for this.
“It’s Philza,” Cellbit replies, dropping his voice at the secret. “He woke me up last night, looking for help. I think?”
Roier’s lips form a perfect O, as he turns and finally spots Philza still sleeping on the couch. Cellbit watches as he looks him over - most of the injuries are beneath the blankets, but he is still clearly unwell - and then sees the straw in the part-finished bowl of watery soup.
A rose is still clutched in Philza’s hand, just visible where it slips out from the blanket.
“How bad is it?” Roier asks, quiet.
“They sewed his fucking mouth shut,” Cellbit replies. “I cut a little so he could drink, but stopped when I caught his lip. Cuff burns on his wrists and ankles, fucked hands, they sliced up his /feet/ so he couldn’t run, then he ran on them barefoot anyway.”
“Stupid Feds,” Roier’s nose twitches.
Cellbit shakes his head, “there’s void-taint on his chest and in his eyes. No idea how sick he is, but the Feds don’t have End access.”
“That we know about.”
And Cellbit has to concede that point - still, he talks Roier quietly through Philza’s other injuries, and explains what he did. At the end, his husband looks about as helpless as he feels, but does pull a small pair of scissors out of a pocket.
“We should probably give him, I dunno, antibiotics or something,” Roier pulls a face. “For his feet. How do we treat void-sickness? Is it just keep him away from it?”
Cellbit has no idea - it’s not like he has spent prolonged periods of time in the End, “someone will know, right? Maybe when Missa gets here?”
Roier raises an eyebrow and, fair, Missa also has likely never been to the End, but Cellbit thinks the man deserves more credit than he ever gets. If it’s for Philza, he can probably brute force his way into the answer by sheer stubbornness alone.
That entire family is a bit like that.
“If not… We can at least ask who they want telling,” Cellbit concedes. “I didn’t want to just put anything in general and have everyone on my house.”
“We’re going to murder whoever did this, right?”
“Of course.”
Roier kisses his cheek, and once Cellbit is done blushing he finds Philza watching them.
“Morning,” he says, as Roier notices and waves.
“Hey Philza,” Roier drawls on the name. “Cellbo says you got something stuck in your mouth?”
Philza flips him off. It’s a clear struggle for him to sit up, but he manages it.
“Is it okay if Roier takes the stitches out?” Cellbit asks, getting a withering look from both of them at how soft his voice turned as he said it.
Despite that, Philza nods. Roier nudges him into a different position, and sits opposite on the sofa; he actually remembers to wash his hands before peeling back Philza’s lips, and Cellbit feels a bit stupid for not thinking of that.
As he watches Roier carefully use the tiny scissors to cut the threads, Cellbit keeps guard. His fingers flick back and forth over his knife but there’s no target, nobody who isn’t dear to him here to use it on.
He’s helpless, and he knows it; hopefully between them they can work out who he needs to kill and how.
The threads are cut, and Philza is allowed a drink as Roier finds the tweezers in the first aid kit. Pulling out the threads comes with flinching and bleeding wounds, and there’s only so much that antiseptic-soaked cotton wool can do.
The thread-holes are small enough that they stop bleeding quickly, but the blood from Philza’s mouth is horrific.
There’s a thread or two left to remove when Cellbit hears the door, and remembers he should have checked his comms. He leaves Roier treating Philza to head down.
This time he opens the door to find Missa, Chayanne and Tallulah - and an awkward looking FitMC, hanging towards the back.
And Cellbit suddenly realises it’d be a really bad idea to let the children see their father while Roier’s still treating him.
“Is Phil…?” Missa asks.
“Roier’s treating some of his injuries,” Cellbit replies. “Do you want to help me make breakfast for everyone?”
The sign Chayanne slammed down is put away in favour of nodding, and grabbing his sister’s hand. If Missa bought Fit, even if only for directions, Cellbit is happy enough to let him in - he gestures for him to follow, and leads everyone to the kitchen.
It’s awkward, and quiet, and nobody seems to know how to break it. Still, Cellbit shows them around and admits “they sewed his mouth shut. Roier’s fixing it, but we need light and easy food, okay?”
For all he nods, Chayanne seems to misunderstand. There is some simple stuff, yes, but a flurry of activity and complicated dishes too. Tallulah arranges them on the plate with extreme focus, and Cellbit…
Cellbit takes the two adults, and uses the stove.
Quietly, while the children are occupied, he explains what he knows. They listen, Missa frets, and Fit’s face is grim.
“I want to check with him first,” Fit looks at Missa, who gives him a nod. “But I think I know what bullshit he got himself into.”
“You do?” Cellbit asks.
Fit shrugs, looks uncomfortable. “He was scared, thought he was being threatened… We’ll explain later.”
And that’s the sort of shit Cellbit could have done with knowing before this shit happened. He’d like to strange someone, but he knows why he wasn’t told; Purgatory was… rough, to say the least.
“We didn’t tell anyone,” Missa adds, in Spanish, Fit glancing at his wrist to read the translations. “Fit only knows because it started when I was gone and the kids were missing.”
Cellbit doesn’t feel much better - the egg cracks with a little too much force, and he imagines it’s a skull.
It takes a little while for breakfast to be ready, and Cellbit hopes it gave Roier enough time. He warns the children their father is probably hurting, so be gentle, and also his mouth and hands hurt so he may not say much.
They consider him with far too much seriousness for their age; Tallulah writes a sign for them both, simply reading ‘I know’.
He leads them back through. Philza is holding some gauze to his lip, curled up in the corner of the sofa and watching the room. Roier sits on the other corner, sword clearly in grabbing range even as he tries to keep up low and playful chatter. It goes quiet when everyone else enters.
Chayanne and Tallulah move first, running to their father’s side. Neither of them touch him, though, waiting for the quiet ‘hello’ spoken in a deeply hoarse voice, and for Philza to offer them each a hand. Missa follows, taking the middle spot on the sofa. He hesitates, barely risking moving, but Philza leans his head on his shoulder and so Missa snakes an arm behind his back.
Every one of the four of them is either carrying or wearing a rose. Now he looks, Fit has one too.
“Was it him?” Fit asks, sitting heavily on a chair opposite.
Philza nods.
“Well, fuck,” Fit sighs, and looks around. “I’m gonna guess you need stuff for void-sickness? Anything else I should ask Pac e Mike for?”
And of course Tazercraft are the obvious people to ask. Scientists with a habit of breaking reality have likely seen this before.
“Antibiotics,” Roier adds. “For preventing infection in wounds dirty for too long? And painkillers.”
Philza gives him a withering glare at painkillers, but his hands are busy with his children and even if his lips are now free, it must /hurt/.
Chayanne distracts him by placing a huge amount of food both on his lap, and the floor all around. Missa laughs and Philza looks fond, but shakes his head softly. Missa takes one of the broths, though, and offers it to him.
Despite having his mouth free, Philza still reaches for a straw.
And Cellbit, Cellbit wants answers, but Fit is texting his boyfriend who Cellbit hopes has Richarlyson, so there’s not really anyone to ask.
Roier pulls a silly face at him.
Cellbit likes to think he’s above pulling one back, but whatever he does, Roier laughs anyway.
But, he does have breakfast for everyone else, so he hands it around and drinks his coffee and waits impatiently patiently for the family to quietly sort themselves out.
Eventually, Philza looks at Cellbit, mouthing ‘thank you’ and then, “I… you want to know?”
“Yes.”
Philza looks at Missa, then Fit - both of them nod.
“Fit,” Missa says. “Can you? I am not sure all of how to say it in English.”
Fit sighs again, puts his communicator away, and nods.
“What do you know of the Ender King?” He asks.
It’s a name that Cellbit has never heard before, but ideas are already forming; Roier is also shaking his head, a shrug on his arms and confusion in his eyes.
“Right,” Fit pulls a series of faces. “Now, I don’t know a lot. But, couple of months ago, Phil called me over to his house. It’s happened a few times - seeing messages and structural changes in the bunker I couldn’t see. One time Pac was with me, and he was just weirded out-”
Philza butts in, with a quiet, “it was Rose.”
“Rose?”
Philza nods, Chayanne slams down a sign.
‘She looks after us!’ the boy writes. ‘All of our familia.’
“She’s a goddess,” Missa adds, slowly, clearly thinking about his words. “But her powers are weak here… She looks after four, King only wants one.”
Tallulah adds ‘it’s why the bad things can’t find us’, and Cellbit isn’t quite sure which bad things Tallulah means, but it has to mean something.
Eye workers, maybe.
The idea of a goddess protecting a family is… Not exactly strange to Cellbit; he’s dabbled in the occult enough to know what sort of entities would do that, at least.
“She’s my,” Philza coughs, harsh, his throat not really ready for talking. “Spawn goddess. Where I come from.”
That’s stranger, but explains why she might like that.
“Right,” Fit says. “That one turned out to be less a problem, but the one that followed… When I went over Philza was in the middle of a panic attack, only not crying because Chayanne and Tallulah were there. He said a being from his dreams had contacted him, one more powerful than anything, against which there’s nothing we can ever do. Something about a war, and wanting Phil for himself. Phil made me promise to look after the kids if he was taken, that he’d find some way back but we were /not/ to go after him.”
And they listened? Cellbit is mostly surprised that they listened, but then Philza and his friends are more practical sorts than himself and Roier.
“There were more letters,” Missa says. “He started… corrupting Rose’s letters? Because he couldn’t find Philza.”
“And then he found you.” Cellbit finishes.
And it’s not the whole story, he knows it isn’t the whole story, but he’s got enough for the themes - a being which calls itself a god wants Philza for some reason is hunting him. That being comes from wherever Philza was before here, and has plans for him. Perhaps he is trapped as a pawn in a war between the gods and a war prisoner you are trying to sell makes sense for his treatment.
Perhaps he did something to piss off the god.
“My memory is,” Philza gestures to his head, and Cellbit knows the amnesia affecting many islanders touched him too, so he nods. “I don’t remember but…”
There’s a sign, turned to Philza where Cellbit cannot see.
Philza’s face shifts, and softens, and he reaches out for his children again as he says “I promised, didn’t I?”
“Does he have weaknesses,” Roier asks. “Everything has weaknesses!”
Philza laughs, bitter and dry. It turns into another coughing fit, one that leaves him shaking and leaning on Missa for support.
Cellbit notes Fit texting again, and has his suspicions as to what it says.
Once Philza recovers, he says, “the Ender King is fucking dead, mate. Water burnt him, but now he has no body… He’s weaker, can’t steal entire cities anymore, but he lost his weaknesses to.”
Worse than a god, it is the ghost of a god.
Has no body, though?
Cellbit looks at Philza again, and wonders - the void sickness has clearly done more to his mind than his body, and a deity of the End could likely manipulate it. If it had left him a functional body but empty mental shell…
War prisoner or flesh suit, either way Cellbit needs to work out how to kill a god’s ghost.
[Notes - void sickness. I’ve not really developed it but tldr overworld bodies are not well adapted to other realms. Too long in the void (also the End, where the atmosphere is void) fucks you up. Purple rash-like staining across skin, purple tint getting into your eyes. Common symptoms include dissociation, derealisation, and a susceptibility to the cold. If it reaches organs it can cause them to shut down, though always works from the outside in (or if caused by eating too much chorus fruit, which is an option, from your digestive tract out). The comment about Philza’s lips or throat with not speaking is if the taint had reached either his voice box or the muscles controlling his lips. Philza’s actually pretty fucking resistant to it, by a combination of genetics and very slowly increasing his exposure over time. Most people would be dead from that long, he’s just… It’s deep enough to cause muscle weakness in places, but it isn’t yet deep enough to cause damage like ‘lungs cease functioning’. The ‘bonus’ of his mouth sewn shut is they couldn’t feed him end-food, so it was only working out-in not in-out. Much like with fairies if you eat of the end bad shit happens.]
#qsmp fanfic#qsmp philza#qsmp cellbit#hurt/comfort#angst#*gestures vaguely*#please just take it I'm done with this fic#there was supposed to be more after but I liked that line as an ending line so it's the end now#I also feel you should know I wrote this watching old 3D animated b@rbie movies in the background#specifically princess and the pauper and 12 dancing princesses#plus a lot of silence#but please appreciate me writing torture aftermath to kid's movies#stuck the @ in so it doesn't show up in the other fandom tagsg
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Y'all talking about Tallulah shipping q!tntduo meanwhile everyone is unaware of Richa forcing Cellbit to flirt back with Roier and even saying him what stuff to say in spanish
Also the amazing signs Richa wrote to Roier "My dad is weak to flirts"
#qsmp#q!richarlyson#spiderbit#okay i love that ship name#Anyway#roier also slipped and called Richa 'mijo'#richa lost a dad but hes on his way to go back to the 6 leches status he wears so proudly
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i love q!roier and roier so much, i love his roleplay so much too.
his character looks so silly and clueless but has a really complex story on the island, even if he doesn’t talk about it too much is so subtle how that affects his personality and perception of some islanders and events, now, roier makes everything more slow when it comes to lore and i find that really interesting; he likes to plan a idea of lore and start building that without guion and expecting what, at the moment, he can introduce to make more deep his story, bringing little details he remember since day one of qsmp because that’s another strong thing he has, being so into qsmp and not just in english but spanish, big part of the lore started with the hispanics ccs too and he was part of every single one of them, so when it comes to fill some part of the qsmp lore, he’s a perfect person for that; discovering two cucuruchos, meeting q!luzu in his ia version, the q!quackity plan against eggs, the betrayal of q!spreen and q!quackity, even that is part of q!quackity principal lore too.
now, as a someone who consume his streams everyday (i’m not gonna get deep into this because is one of my favorite streamers so is pretty clear my adoration for him and his streams), is really funny to watch how in random moments he decides to do a lore dump or comment something that maybe someone else didn’t remember and change all the perspective, damn, i still kicking with my feet when he has a whole breakdown on purgatory and motive everyone to change rules, when it comes to killing he never judges the person but what are their reasons to kill, even as a psychologist in qsmp he understands a lot of characters like q!missa with his issues with chay, q!maxo’s depression, q!slime trauma with juana, even q!willy weak point with spiders.
now listen, maybe i’m missing a lot of details of his lore because is too long, but my point is how he is pretty clear with his character and likes to make lore not so often but that doesn’t affect his way to play on qsmp, all his lore feels natural and nothing is canon until he decides to share that with us or even the others islanders, with him everything can be a plot twist. my favorite “debut” of roier into roleplay is the abueloier incident, that wasn’t prepare and i still feel how q!roier felt, even being mean to q!quackity bringing his past, i felt the anger and sadness, keeping himself away of others and showing that if he follows his feelings, maybe something bad would happen.
is so cool making theories of his character and respect roier’s choices of what we can take or not, he uses places to make a following story too; since purgatory, just two times he was on q!cellbit’s castle and for two reasons, taking a picture of the wall, maybe expecting to make q!cellbit angry when he come back and checking if richas was there, now, he just stays on his own castle, full of old memories with a new son, deciding to finish what he left after making another life, he decides to sleep outside with pepito or in the place he built for bobby, jumping from the tallest part expecting what? death? he even said to pepito how he can die after losing two lifes but he can’t even after purgatory, he was jealous of that?
so yeah, that’s why i love q!roier and roier’s roleplaying.
#qsmp#qsmp purgatory#qsmp roier#qsmp analysis#q!roier#qsmp cellbit#qsmp quackity#q!roier is such a. good character to make a lot of analysis and fan arts and everything#this is my perception#this is so q!roier focus so i didn’t bring another characters because they’re pretty complex too#i love qsmp feels like a novel#i defend every character blame me#q!roier apologist even if he didn’t said or do something bad#GIVE HIM BOOKS OF LORE TOO MY BOY DESERVES SOME MISTERY TOO !!!!!
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Richas: dont flirt with my dad, he is weak to it.
Cellbit: IGNORE HIM IGNORE HIM
Roier: ??? WHAT. How.
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that clip of the "my dad is weak to flirting" bit misses that roier had JUST called cellbit amor and then richas was like. i need to continue to torment my dad today >:D
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Forever found out by accident that "Era um garoto que como eu amava os Beatles e os Rolling Stones" reminded Cellbit of himself, back at the war.
It started with a small comment, they were hanging out at the favelas late at night, and when the song started playing from their JBL, Cellbit mentioned the similarities.
Ever since then, whenever Cellbit needs comfort about his memories of the war, Forever will do a campfire and sing this song with him. To remind him that even though he is similar to the boy in the song, he is not the boy he was at war. He has a heart on his chest, no medals in exchange. He has a family. He has a son.
No my only weakness, Forever singing to the people he loves
No but seriously, Forever singing to people will always break me, yes he jokes around and sometimes sings silly songs but when he is serious and actually sings? (Like the moment he sanga velha infância to stone Richas) everything breaks down to me
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Mike Drugged AU!
Story underneath!
Mike gasped as his eyes shot open. His body felt weak, and he was somewhere…he didn’t recognize. “Hey, calm down. You’re gonna be a bit weak.” Mike turned his head toward the voice, eyes squinting to see the person through his blurry eyes. “Cellbit?” He whispers. The blur nods. “Glad to see you’re ok, amigo. Como você está se sentindo?” Mike looks up at the ceiling. He seemed to be in a small room on a bed.
The walls were made of wood and there was a chair next to him that Cellbit sat on. Mike blinks. “I feel…weird. Like I haven’t used my body in ages.” Cellbit hums. “That makes sense. What’s the last thing you remember?” Mike thinks back. He was with Pac and they had found the area they found before finding the new members. Pac was excited because of stuff that they could get.
But they stopped by the tower and-
He was falling, calling out for his friend.
“PAC!”
“MIKE!”
He felt his body hit something and then there was nothing…
Mike gasps, trying to sit up. “Pac! Ele está bem? Caí em um buraco e o deixei! Ele deve estar tão preocupado!” Cellbit helps Mike sit up, taking a sharp breath. “Acalmar. You’re ok. Just relax, Mike.” Mike nods as Cellbit hands him his glasses. “Thank you. Where are we?” Things were clearer, and Cellbit looked exhausted.
“We’re…in a secondary location for the Ordos.” Mike tilts his head. “A secondary location? Why?” Cellbit sighs. “Things…have happened since you went missing, Mike. Bad things.” Mike hitches. “What kind of things?” Cellbit looks away. “Richas is missing.” Mike freezes. “All the eggs have gone missing, leaving only their things in their beds.”
Mike takes a shaky breath. “Seriously?” Cellbit nods. “Have you found them?” Cellbit shakes his head. “But we’re looking. We’re searching every corner we can. But…” Mike blinks. “But what?” Before Cellbit can answer, the door to the room opens and in walks Fit. “Mike! You’re awake! How are you feeling?” Mike smiles at Fit, who also looks tired.
“I’m…alright. Confused. How long have I been missing?” Fit frowns. “Maybe a week? A little more? I’m not sure.” Mike nods. “Is Pac ok? I must’ve worried him so much. And apparently Richas is missing? I should find him.” Fit takes a breath and looks at Cellbit. “You haven’t told him?” Cellbit frowns at Fit.
“I was about to.” Cellbit turns back to Mike. “After…the eggs disappeared, something happened to Forever. He showed up two days after they disappeared acting…different.” Mike makes a small gasp. “How did he act differently?” Cellbit sighs, pulling out a photo. Mike took it and gasped. It was Forever, but he looked different.
He was wearing a pure white suit and his braided hair was over his shoulder and messily done, as compared to the tight braid down his back that he usually wore. But the big thing was his face. Forever was grinning an unnatural smile, stretching farther than Mike has ever seen the man smile. And his eyes. They were blown out, pupils covering the irises, with a slight glaze over them.
“What…happened to him?” Mike asks. Cellbit sighs. “He’s drugged.” Mike stops. “What?!” Fit nods. “He’s been taking this…medicine. It makes him hyperactive and…happy. He’ll react to anything with, ‘Isn’t this perfect?’ or something like that.” Mike takes a shaky breath. “Oh meu Deus, porra…” Cellbit sighs. “Everyone was freaked out, even more so when we saw him taking the medicine.”
Mike nods. He would freak out too. “But Pac…had this idea.” Fit continues, looking away from Mike. “He was going to get a sample of the medicine so that he could try and make an antidote.” Mike chuckles. “I can see that.” Cellbit looks down at the ground. “Forever…took him to the person who gave him the treatment. Cucurucho.” Mike froze. “No…”
“He came back. Just like Forever.” Fit says, still not looking at Pac. “I’m so fucking sorry.” Mike clenches his fists. “You-You can’t be serious, right?” Fit shakes his head as Cellbit hands Mike another picture. This time of his partner. But Pac was all wrong. The blue of his sweatshirt was white, and the hood was down.
And that fucking smile. It looked unnatural on him. And just like Forever, Pac’s eyes were blown out and glazed over. Mike started to shake. “Oh Pac…” Fit sits down next to Mike. “I’m sorry. By the time I heard what he’d done, it was two late. I couldn’t find him. I tried, I promise…” Mike nods, trying to blink away tears that were forming.
“But…he still remembers me, right?” Fit nods, making a weird sound. Cellbit speaks instead. “The medicine, it…makes them…weird. They’re convinced that the eggs aren’t missing, just…sleeping. Pac said the same thing about you. That you were just asleep. Even though you weren’t.” Mike takes a shaky breath. “Can I see him? I need to see for myself. Please?” The two looked at each other. “Sure. But let me come with you.” Fit says.
Mike nods.
“Pac? Are you busy?” Fit asks as they enter the Favela. Mike whistles. “He’s been busy.: Fit nods. “Yeah, there wasn’t much else he could do. Especially after the eggs.” Mike nods. Then he hears a voice he knows. “Oh! Fit! Hold on!” Pac sounded the same, his voice a bit higher maybe. Then Pac leaves one of the houses and the illusion shatters.
Pac was wearing the white stuff that he wore in the picture. Mike takes a sharp gasp. “Pac?” Pac gasped, and started to wave. “Mike! You’re here! I’ve been waiting for you! You’ve been sleeping for so long, but that’s ok!” Pac runs up to Mike and hugs him. “Yeah, We found Mike and he wanted to see you.” Pac lets go.
“Have you seen the Favela? I’ve been doing so much while you’ve been asleep! What do you think?!” Mike looked around. “It’s…nice.” The pinkette looks back at Pac. “But you…don’t look right. Why are you wearing white?” Pac smiles, and laughs. “Because white is the BEST color, Mike! You should try it!” Mike nods.
“I-I think I’m good. You-You’re acting really weird, Pac. Are you okay?” Mike says, glancing at Fit. Fit smiles sadly. “Oh, I’m amazing! While you were gone I was really upset, but then Forever told Cucurucho and I got treatment. Now everything is AMAZING!” His eyes light up. “We should get you to take it too! Then all three of us can have the best time on the island!” Mike takes a small step back. He looks at Fit in worry.
“Pac, maybe backup? Mike’s still getting used to everything. He’s been missing for a while, remember?” Mike nods. “Weren’t you looking for me?” Pac stopped, his eyebrows furrowing as he kept smiling. “Are you sure?” He asks, drawing out the sure. Mike nods. “Yes! You were there, Pac! Don’t you remember what we were doing?” Pac shrugs.
“Nahhhhhhhh, I don’t care. But you should see the place I’m working on for everyone in the Favela five, oh and Fit too!” Pac starts to walk off, but Mike grabs him. “Snap out of it! I’m gone for a week and you’re acting like a totally different person! What did Cucurucho do to you?!” Pac turned, the smile he wore slightly smaller.
“He made me happy again! I was crying alone in corners while you were gone! But Cucurcho gave me treatment and it made me happy! Don’t you like me like this?!” As Pac screamed, the smile never faltered. “I need to-let me,” He says, pulling out a briefcase. “Pac, don’t.” Fit says. But Pac doesn’t answer, pulling out a bottle. “Don’t worry! I-I just need to-To…” He opens the bottle and chugs it.
“Pac?” Mike asks. As soon as he’s done chugging it, Pac’s smile grew wide again, eyes glazing over. “Hahaha! There! Much better! Don’t you agree, Mike?!” Mike looked at Pac in fear. “W-What…What did you just do?” He asked. Pac laughs. “I took my medicine! Cucurucho gave it to me, remember?!” Pac said, smiling. Mike makes a shaky smile back. “Uh…yeah.” Pac grabs Mike’s hand, causing Mike to flinch.
“HAHA! You flinched! That’s so funny!” Mike looks at Fit, pleading with his eyes. “Let’s go work on the Favela!” Pac starts to drag Mike away, but Fit interrupts. “Actually I need to talk to Mike for a bit. Sorry.” Mike nods along. “Yeah! I promise I’ll come by later.” Pac nods. “Okay! See you later Mike!” Pac says, and then walks off. Mike looks at Fit. “C’mon, let's TP to Phil’s.” Mike nods.
“Okay, what the fuck was that?!” Mike shouted. Fit sighs. “Like I told you, he’s drugged up. Forever is the same.” Mike takes a shaky step back, sitting down on a bench near a pool of water. “Oh meu Deus, cara…” Fit sits next to him. “I know. It’s…something. But a lot of us are working on trying to find a cure.” Mike looks at him. “Have you?” Fit shakes his head. “No. Pac…tried to, but we think the drugs hit him before he got a chance to. And we don’t even know where to look if he did.”
Mike nods. “I could try looking. I know Pac better than anyone. If he made a cure, I’d know where to find it.” Fit nods. “That sounds like a good idea. I’ll let Phil and Cellbit know.” Mike’s eyes widened. “Cellbit I can get, but why Phil?” Fit smiles.
“Turns out, when you take Phil’s children away, he will stay awake as long as he can to help find them. He and Cellbit are working together on leading this whole…situation.” Mike nods. “I can see it.”
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oH MY GODSDSD YOUR LATEST FITPAC/HIDEDUO FIC IS SO CUTE AAHHHHH
I love the way you made pacs accent stronger when he was laughing along with fit not fighting pac while he was getting ticked 🥺 they're so sweet AHH!!
and the ending ???? So cute I love the way richas and Ramon were just hiding and how fit n pac went to chase after their kids omg I can keep talking about that forever ITS SO CUTE!! I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCHHH
AAAAAAAAA THANK YOU THANK YOU THANKS A LOT
Bruh, I'm not going to lie, I LOVE to think about how everyone's accent changes the way they call each other. I am horrible at explaning it in english because fonetics in another language is not something I know yet but aaaaa how Baghera's Cellbit is different from Philza's Cellbit that is also distintic from Bagi's Cellbit. Pac saying 'Fitch' and 'Hamon' and each kid using their family's native language to call their uncles, aunts and parents 'mom, eomma, mãe, tonton, tio, tía'. It melts my heart fr fr
And yeah! Fit is 100% WEAK when it comes to Pac, I can see him not lifting a single finger to stop him from tickling him just because Pac seems to be having fun xDDD Also I believe that the people's accent getting thicker when they're laughing is just *chef kiss* everything. The world needs more of it
Ramón and Richas are the BEST BEANS! the GREMLINS! the CUTIES! I am glad that they are interacting more because in between Ramon's love for explosives and Richas' love for chaos I can see them just being the best beans xD
Also! I humbly offer u a couple of my fav hideduo animatics as a thank you for such a lovely ask :D
#Thanksssssss a lot again!!!!!#I am glad to see that I am not the only one screaming about this scenario because fr writing that left me giggling kicking my feet#jhgfdsdfghujklok#askys#kind anon#fav#Kanene's asks#Talking about animatics geez I am still not over the 'did we fail...?' from maepletea like BRUH the raw emotion there is crazy
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THIS ARC WAS SO FUCKING GOOD oh my GOD that ending was so perfect
The cinema of it all!!!!! The tnt on all the eggs!!! Bbh tearing at his cage!!!! The confrontation and and @v@ LAUGHING and then SLAYING EVERYONE
Richas pleading with Forever because he knows hes in there somewhere!!! Then Richas almost dying!!! Bagis "My son!!!!" and "You're going to know my name!!!!!!" Cucurucho kidnapping @v@ as they're locked in a stalemate until Cucurucho absolutely destroys him and then TRANSITIONS TO A SEAMLESS CINEMATIC WHERE THE FEDERATION LOCKS @v@ IN A PRISON IN THE MIDDLE OF THE OCEAN
I am never getting over this stream
ANON I WAS LITERALLY SHAKING!!!!!!!!
Forever made absolute CINEMA with this arc i haven't feel this way since Cellbit's rpg, i can't even watch other streams right now because im buzzing with adrenaline and i know i wouldn't focus on anything else because that stream will live rent free in my head
Just the glimpses at how DANGEROUS @v@ truly is, the way he rubbed in our faces that is NOT human and he is NOT bound by the same rules and weakness as them, that to him they are just little annoying flies, that they could try to kill him as much as they want that it would all be for nothing because in the end he is truly other
And Forever's acting..... God the way he started to laugh when they attacked him, when he realizes they were in a safe zone and his first reaction was to mock them and then take them outside just to show how fucking pathetic their attempts are, that they never had any chance, that he is only humoring them.
Bagi always brings the steel chair with her rp, that woman is everything to me, the moment i heard her voice i knew we are going to eat GOOD, just the way the Brazilians love Forever so much, how they know he is in there somewhere and don't want to give up. Just Richas...... My precious angel, my little boy trying so hard to save his father, i just want to hold him.
Cucurucho for once doing his fucking job and protecting the Islanders, we love to see it!!! Still don't trust his bitch ass but at least for now the kids are safe, just you know, deeply traumatized.
I think this was the perfect way to explain why Forever will be going away for a while, it is not the kidnapping everyone is complaining about (that i particularly don't mind tbh, for me it makes sense that there will be a lot of kidnappings on a island where everyone and their dog want to conduct experiments on people lmao), and still clearly leaves the arc open to be returned wherever Forever comes back without feeling like the arc is just abandoned, it had a conclusion but one that doesn't feel too final you know?
Sorry, i just loved it so much im rambling
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