Since absolutely nobody asked here’s some instances of me bullying Cyrmic

Okay actually in all seriousness, being half human and half cryptic (officially called Chimeric/Chimera) is hard work. It’s not that it’s misunderstood, but it’s so rare that there’s not enough availability to understand it. And because technically the combinations are endless, it’s hard to be able to tell what kinds of things the child would be capable of or even struggle with for that matter. Things like having to be picky about medicine because some ingredients might be less suited for cryptids than humans and vice versa.

Cyrmic inherits a good handful of quirks from his mother’s cryptic side— both good and bad. With being part plush-based cryptid, his body does consist of both human blood and plush stuffing— usually one’s more prominent in one area than the other like his hands and feet having more fluff than blood. But with the collection, the stuffing does come out staining red and a little gooey— which isn’t natural for his cryptid side.

But because his body is… sort of always in a constant battle with itself (both his humanity and cryptic elements act against each other) sometimes that can lead to some downfalls. The guy does unfortunately bare an issue with stuffing building up in all the wrong places, usually his stomach or even his lungs, and he has to brute force it from himself sometimes. It’s not a fun process by any means. He doesn’t hate that he’s chimeric of course— just some of the cons that come with his complexion.

(special thanks to @menthum-mint for helping me flesh this idea out a little more when we originally talked about it!)

Still Human Chapter 4

Word count: 1366 Tag List: @tinkslittlebelle

Virgil’s eyes hurt. He groaned, forcing them open and blinking away the bleariness. How long he’d been asleep, he didn’t know. He barely remembered what happened- Oh. Yeah. Party tonight. And bad memories. And Roman.

Virgil rubbed his eyes, groaning again. Fucking Roman, having to witness his composure fall apart and betray him. He probably felt bad for him now. If there was a list of things Virgil hated, the topper was pity. Virgil smirked at the list idea. Maybe it’d be a good idea to make one. You know, just for fun. He reached over the side of the bed, his heart almost stopping when he was met with air. His bag-where was his bag?! Did…Roman take it? Virgil fell against the bed again, putting his arms over his eyes. Of course. This is how he’s rewarded for showing weakness. Roman steals his fucking bag. He pushed himself off the bed, flinching when his foot hit something. Peeking out from under his bed was a familiar black band. Oh no, he just stuffed it under the bed! Virgil felt a little lighter, knowing Roman didn’t betray his trust. The light feeling lasted until the spotted the pillow he was sleeping on and the one he was snuggling. Smeared with eyeshadow. Oh, great. Virgil’s face must be a mess, then. He grabbed his phone and flipped the camera to the front. Ugly smudged black lines ran down from his eyes, taking some foundation with it. Virgil growled and swiped at his face angrily, smearing more makeup all over his sleeve. So far he’s made an enemy, had his personal bubble disturbed and broken down in front of a stranger-all in one day! Great start, Virgil. He took off the rest of his makeup and checked the time. He’d already missed his English class and most of Science, so there was no point in going out again. A text caught his eye when he closed his phone’s camera. An unknown number, the text simply saying “I’m hoping this is Virgil. Roman tells me you skipped English for a personal reason. Please meet me at *address* at 6:30.” His English teacher used proper grammar in texts? Virgil shook his head with a chuckle. What a geek. It was 4:45 at the moment (Jesus, he’d been asleep for 3 hours!), so he had a little while until he had to see his English teacher. Virgil locked his dorm room door, put on his headphones, and blared music as he returned to drawing. He found himself smiling as he was finally left alone to doodle in peace. Thank god for door locks and loud music.

 Virgil had to will himself up the stairs of the light blue house where his English teacher apparently lived. He started having second thoughts as soon as the taxi he’d taken had pulled up, but if they were given work, he needed to stay caught up… He rang the doorbell, jolting when a bird squawked in response to it and a dog started barking. Jeez, it sounds like he set off world war 3 in there… “That’s enough, Watson, thank you,” a voice spoke over the dog. The door opened and Virgil was almost knocked over by a thin, pure white dog as it blew out the door. Virgil watched after the dog before turning to the man who answered the door. He instantly felt a little intimidated. The man was taller than him (though, admittedly, that’s not a hard feat) and was giving him a suspicious glare. Virgil gulped and forced his voice past his squeezing throat. “I’m…Virgil…” The glare went away instantly. His English professor fixed his tie against his black shirt. “Ah…Forgive me. Come inside.” Virgil cast another look at the white dog, then followed the professor inside. The bird he’d heard squawk came into view-an African grey parrot, and an impressive one at that. It rested on a free wooden perch with newspaper on the floor to catch whatever it dropped. Unsurprisingly, there were bird toys all over the house so the parrot could entertain itself. “Over here.” The professor motioned to the small living room. Virgil followed him in. The first thing he noticed was that the TV was on and playing kids shows. The second was the man sitting on the couch and watching them. The English professor walked over and tapped the man on the shoulder. “Patton, I have someone here. Just so I don’t startle you.” “Can I see them?” The other man-Patton-spoke suddenly. The professor nodded and Patton jumped up, catching sight of Virgil. Virgil stepped back slightly, offering a shy wave. Patton broke into a huge grin. “Hello! Oh Logi, he’s adorable-“ “Patton, remember what I said about calling people that out loud,” Virgil’s professor said, softly yet sternly. “You don’t know how he’ll feel about it.” Patton looked back. “Can I hug him?” “You’ll have to ask his permission,” the professor said at the same time Virgil said “I’d rather you didn’t.” Patton turned disheartened eyes to the professor, who sighed and pulled him into a hug. Virgil noticed the glint of something shiny on the two men’s hands. He smiled a little at the sight. Married…

The professor kissed the top of Patton’s head, getting a happy grin in response. “I have to work with Virgil here. Do you mind moving to the bedroom?” “Nope!” Patton bounced happily, pulling out of the professor’s arms and running down a hallway. The professor watched him go with a soft smile. He turned to Virgil again, who hid his own smile. “So. The work you missed. Let’s get you caught up.”

Virgil wound up missing the frat party, spending hours with his English professor-Logan Ester, he learned his name was. What started as a catching-up-with-work-and-fuck-off-again night turned into a -play-with-Watson-the-dog-and-Sherlock-the-parrot-while-learning-about-Autism-night. Seriously, Logan told him about Autism. Apparently Patton had it, as well as Roman. Logan instantly put to rest any thoughts Virgil had about Autistic people being stupid. They may not understand some things, they may miss a lot of social cues, and many may be prone to meltdowns, but they’re still humans with emotions. “I’ve had people give me dirty looks when Patton announces he’s my husband,” he told him at one time. “They think people with Autism don’t understand love and can’t consent to anything. They don’t seem to understand that they can feel love-Patton proposed to me, not the other way around.” Virgil went home with a bit of homework and a lot to think about. He recalled the jerkass way he’d treated Roman before and decided to make it up to him somehow. He returned to the dorm to a furious Lily. “What the fuck, V?!” She yelled. “You were supposed to come to the party tonight!” “I had better things to do,” Virgil mumbled, shoving past her in the doorway. “And don’t call me V.” “What could be more important than meeting new possible friends!?” Virgil turned back and glared at her. “Homework.” With that, he slammed the door to his dorm room.

His phone buzzed with a text later that night, as he was getting ready to sleep. It was from Lily. Go figure.

You: what Blond Bitch: V, I’m sorry Blond Bitch: I just realized how I sounded. I shouldn’t have pressured you into coming to the party Blond Bitch: I just don’t want you to be unpopular, you know? You: no Blond Bitch: think of it this way-the more friends you have, the less likely it is that John will go after you You: maybe i want to be upopular You: *unpopular Blond Bitch: V, please…At least show up to the next one? Blond Bitch: all my friends wanna meet you Blond Bitch: and maybe theres other people out there like you Blond Bitch: *there’s You: emos, you mean Blond Bitch: did I say emos? You: can i sleep please Blond Bitch: promise me that you’ll come to the next party. Blond Bitch: else I’ll keep spamming you Blond Bitch: V? Blond Bitch: V Blond Bitch: V Blond Bitch: Virgil You: fine Blond Bitch: Yay! Blond Bitch: okay, I’ll let you sleep now Blond Bitch: good night, V