#People are 100% free to make whatever they’d like for an au!

[mossy-paws]

do you have a list of what all the phighters are gonna be in your mermaid au :0

still really nervous to say who’s who because I don’t want people to copy any of my ideas because I’ve seen someone be scarily close to what I’ve been doing and stuff (no blame on them though because to be fair I guess it’s a little generic, it’s just a tad nerve racking I would say :’DD!), but you can refer to some of my older posts for what’s what :DDD! Sorry LMAO I just got anxiety and I’m silly like that

[stargazeraldroth]

Okay so this MIGHT be weird but I had an idea for a very different version of Underverse that I wanted to share with someone??? I’m never gonna do anything with it (if you end up liking anything from this, as a prompt or idea or story or anything like that, feel free to take it!), but it’s one of those things I gotta get out, you know??? Hope this isn’t a bother!!!

Anyways, basic idea involves borderline platonic yandere Blue and Dream for Ink (because I’m a sucker for it, blame the prompt on AO3 that mentioned the idea), so for his “own good,” they’re the ones who ended up working with XGaster (I’m not sure how they’d meet him- maybe they went to help him that first time instead of Ink, because he was busy or something?) to cause the X-Event. I imagine that their whole reasoning would be them hoping XGaster being a creator in his own right would give them a way to get Ink out from under the thumb of the ones Ink normally has to deal with- Maybe they think there’s a chance the Overwrite button can do something? Or hell, maybe the reason is as simple as wanting to give Ink a soul and believing XGaster has the means to help them. I’m not actually sure!

Just. I don’t know? The idea of Underverse turning into one giant festival of suffering for Ink, as he gets hit with one betrayal after another from people he thought he could trust (Cross, Dream, and Blue). Then Error destroys the Multiverse, and everything just… Keeps falling apart from there.

Again, hope this isn’t weird or a bother- But I’d be interested in hearing what you think of an idea like this, or seeing where you’d take it, or anything like that. Either way, take care, and thank you for reading!!!

Anon, the only thing that's a bother right now is the fact my parents never told me they made another pot of coffee, so there's about half a pot going to waste. With that being said, I'm sorry if this is poorly written because I'm like. Running solely off caffeine from like 4-5 cups of coffee and stress from schoolwork. I was gonna wait to answer this until tomorrow morning, but then I remembered that I'm done work for the day and I have nothing else to do until I randomly go to sleep at like midnight, so.

I feel like I've said this a hundred times before, but even if I have, I'll say it again: I have a thing for platonic yanderes. I don't know what it is about them, but for some reason, I just love them. That goes for yandere characters in general, but that's not the point.

I'm gonna take this one at a time, hopefully it'll help me keep myself organized and I can actually form a coherent idea for once.

I find the idea of Dream and Blue meeting X-Gaster in Ink's place very interesting!! I'm a bit of a stickler for the idea that Ink would never endanger the AUs for whatever reason, no idea if that's canon or all, so this actually works in my favor. I haven't watched Underverse's early episodes in forever (don't think I ever even watched the X-Tale series, oop-), so my memory of why Ink made the deal with X might be a bit muddled.

Anyway, I think it's very believable that those two would want to take some of the workload off Ink's shoulders. They're supposed to be a team, let them help! Ink's a bit reluctant, not just anyone can do these kinds of jobs, but they're so eager to help... oh, alright, fine, you can take the job- but if anything happens, they need to inform him right away! They're absolutely going to do that, no doubt about it, 100%. (They have no intention on doing that)

Anyway, I think their intentions would start out genuine. They really just want to help Ink! They see how overworked he is and he's just one person, it's not right to make him shoulder all this responsibility. The two are wary of Creators due to some unfavorable members (if they found out 1/4 of the stuff I do to Ink for the sake of an AU, they'd have a bounty on my head), so they're not about to let Ink go and meet with one face-to-face. (Again, I have not been refreshed on Underverse lore, so if there's inconsistency I'm. So sorry) He seems to have good intentions, but they're still wary of him.

Actually, here's a potentially interesting idea: Dream and Blue don't start developing into yanderes until after meeting X. Something I usually go with is X-Gaster having his own kind of fixation on Ink, though not necessarily in a romantic or even platonic sense. He admires Ink's power and role, and the two pick up on that- especially Dream. And neither of them like it.

With that being said, I think it's inevitable that Ink would meet X himself at some point. Dream and Blue keep pushing it off, telling him they can handle it, but at some point he puts his foot down and goes to meet X. I think it'd be too complicated to have him not meet him, or maybe this will come back to bite me in the ass, I don't know!

But I'm glad you mentioned that they could be the ones who cause the X-Event, Anon. Using my stickler thing from before, Dream and Blue wouldn't have the same innate sense to weigh the pros and cons for the other AUs, or the AU itself. Sure, they have their moral compasses, but power corrupts people. Power leads to greed, as does greed lead to a hunger for power. And X can be very persuasive when he wants to be, I'm sure. I don't doubt that he would use their fondness for Ink to his advantage (hope I wrote that right), telling them that he can do so many things in return for their help: he can experiment and create Ink a soul of his own, and then he won't need those pesky Creators anymore.

(Or, maybe even better, X-Gaster dangles the possibility of "freeing" Ink from his duties as the Protector. He hints at the possibility of using the OVERWRITE to change Ink's Code, removing his connection to the Creators. All such tempting ideas... they only want what's best for their friend, don't they? Would they really pass up such an opportunity? So many possibilities to play with!)

I think this whole idea can lead to an interesting but painful story of Dream and Blue's obsessive behavior worsening, escalating to the point of becoming full-fledged yanderes. They can't let Ink know the truth about what happened with X-Tale! If he found out they've been keeping things from him... that they had a hand in what happened and what's now happening... oh... oh, he would hate them, wouldn't he? He'd want to stop being their friend! He- he'd leave the Star Sanses and he wouldn't work with them anymore! They can't have that! They can't live with that! They... they won't let him leave them like this!

This could lead to SO MUCH ANGST MATERIAL. Like- imagine the kind of stuff that would go down between Dream and Nightmare! Nightmare can sense so much guilt and shame from Dream, which is so... intriguing! And Cross would probably know about his involvement, considering X-Chara, and Nightmare would eat. That. UP! Dream, Mr. Hugs-&-Smiles himself, being linked to an entire world's devastation? Well, it wouldn't be the first time... (Apple Incident references go BRRRRR-)

From Ink's perspective, the story's probably escalating into a horror story tbh. Like you said Anon, he's getting one hit after the other: an AU was destroyed during the Truce, one betrayal after another, finding out about X-Gaster's madness, Dream and Blue going from liars/backstabbers (or whatever term you wanna use for them) to obsessed yanderes that would do anything to keep him to themselves, Error destroying the AUs... I haven't even talked about Error yet!

For once, I feel there isn't much to say about Error. I was going to say something about him being a yandere, too, but I felt like it took away from Dream and Blue being platonic yanderes. He would either be relishing in Ink's downfall or he'd be like "Damn, that sucks".

Ah, and now I raise another proposal: X-Gaster betrays Dream and Blue. This might be a given, but hear me out! X sticks to his proposal of using the OVERWRITE on Ink, but instead of cutting his connection to the Creators or giving him a soul (or whatever else he filled their heads with), he turns Ink into a relatively mindless weapon at his disposal. This would basically be the equivalent of Ink being blank in Underverse, but he's extra ruthless because X is the one in control.

I'll just let y'all soak with that idea at the end.

(Quick addition: Imagine a kidnapping scene. Let that cook.)

Looking at the post, I think I got everything I wanted to. Again, sorry if this is poorly written or not very cohesive. It's very late for me and I'm very tired, but I know I'm not going to sleep for another hour or so lol. I might revisit this idea tomorrow or something, see if I have any new ideas, but I think this is it for now.

Thank you, Anon, for your ask!! This was fun!!

[leonardalphachurch]

i am being self indulgent i am doing this whole thing with just chucker. some chuckboose making a special appearance bc as you know all chucker is chuckboose in disguise. feel free to still send in numbers for other ships i am just Going Ham.

note that i’m mostly basing this off of our yet to be written church lives au so slight spoilers for that but like. not really. all you have to know is that it’s a post-13 au.

1. Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you!’ ?

honestly probably neither. they’d both say something similar but i neither of them are very big on the “i love yous”. ESPECIALLY not when they’re angry. they’re much more likely to lash out than be sappy in an argument

2. What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare?

neither of them would really get manic? church is Dissociative King and tucker canonically has panic attacks so i think that’s how they’d react to nightmares. when he’s dissociating is like one of the only times he’s 100% open to and wanting affection so tucker would be like. giving him kisses and pats to ground him and calm him. meanwhile for tucker it’s like, church isn’t great at giving affection so it’s much more practical. giving him water and making him breakfast and throwing a weighted blanket on him. and obviously they both just. call caboose over for cuddles. caboose number 1 nightmare destroyer

3. Do they wear the other’s clothes? (sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.)

i think tucker is more fashion conscious and is like. your clothes do not match my style. meanwhile church is just wearing whatever the fuck is in front of him. not to churboose but church is wearing caboose’s shit basically every day. big for him

4. Which one is more protective? Who needs to be ‘protected’?

they’re both so protective in the dumbest ways. it’s that one comic of the two people who keep jumping in front of the bullet for each other but even stupider and way less functional

5. Describe their cozy night in.

some of these i think i might have to talk about on my nsfw blog lol… (edit: okay it’s in the notes). for a sfw version. they watch bad movies and get drunk and yell at the screen and at each other and also caboose is there and they’re all in a giant cuddle puddle by the end of the night

6. Who would beg the other not to leave? Who has to leave to protect the other?

neither of them would beg but they both so desperately want the other to never leave their side. please don’t leave them alone again. please.

7. Would they build a pillow fort together just because?

they come home and caboose has built a pillow fort in their living room and church acts like he’s mad about it and tucker is annoyed that he’s going to have to clean it up later but they all end up in there

8. What happens if one of them gets sick?

uh this happens in the fic so. no spoilers. however we know what canon church is like when tucker is sick LMAO he vacates the fucking premises

9. What are their thoughts on having children?

they already have kids lol. but i do like to imagine them adopting a child together… that is SO far into the future of their relationship tho

10. Describe their first date.

spoilers…

11. Do either try to hide their emotions if upset? Can the other still tell?

LMAO DO CHURCH AND TUCKER HIDE THEIR FEELINGS??? THE MOST REPRESSED MEN IN THE WORKD, DO THEY EVER HIDE THEIR EMOTIONS??? i guess it does depend on what kind of “upset” is meant tho. anger? not hidden even slightly. literally any other emotion, including positive ones? baby that’s just anger! why feel emotions when you can feel a) lust or b) anger. that’s all you need! and uh they both can usually tell that something’s up but in order to talk about it they would have to admit that they feel emotions besides lust and anger and. well.

12. Do they have many heated arguments? How do they smooth things over?

DO CHURCH AND TUCKER HAVE HEATED ARGUMENTS???? they do not smooth things over they just have angry sex and let all their emotions fester until the next time they argue and are nasty and vicious to each other and then do it all again

13. Who’s the bigger tease?

nsfw… but they both have their moments.

14. How do their personalities compliment each other? How do they clash?

that is. too big of a question to answer in this format lol

15. Do they always say 'i love you' before leaving?

lmao no

16. Can they stay up all night just talking?

this is literally The Thing that they do

17. Who's more likely to pull the other in by the waist and kiss them passionately?

SO tuckercore. tucker does this constantly everyday and church yells about it but never ever stops him

18. How likely are they to have fur babies? How many and what kind?

why do you have to say it like this. i think if church had a pet he would have a mental breakdown about it. tucker might have some reptiles tho. for fun

19. How do they feel about PDA?

they are literally one step away from having public sex

20. Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship.

i’m so bad at songs lmfao. all the chucker songs i have are just tucker pining over church. mr. brightside the killers; starring role marina; you belong with me taylor swift…….. i don’t have any of their actual relationship

21. Who would get into a fight to defend the other's honor? Who tends to the other's wounds?

lmao no they’re the ones dashing each others honors. someone insults one of them and the others like “oh man so true!” church would be the one tending wounds tho bc if church is wounded he needs to like. go in for maintenance lmao tucker does not know how to fix robot. also church will take any opportunity to take care of someone while loudly complaining about the fact that he has to take care of them

22. What reminds each of their partner?

this is too vague i think for me to know how to answer it

23. Who's more likely to convince the other to stay in bed come morning?

“church we need to have morning sex. church please i will die without it.”

24. Who's more likely to give the other a massage?

tucker wants to be all sexy with it but church. is a robot. he might help church with like base level maintenance stuff to fufill the same purpose tho

25. Do they have any hobbies they share?

i don’t think they have. hobbies. i guess watching tv? ………sex.

26. What are their vices?

girl i am writing an entire fic about this. everything about them is a vice

27. Who is the light weight that needs to be taken care of after a party?

neither of them really are lightweights but i think tucker is definitely way more likely to take some more illicit substances hanging out with kai and church gets so fucking annoyed having to take care of tuckers high ass

28. What are there thoughts on pet names? Do they have any?

babe is literally the most common word coming out of tuckers lips

29. Who is more likely to jump in an elevator? Who freaks out?

i think church would be more likely to freak out but tucker wouldn’t really jump in an elevator bc hed be lowkey scared too. caboose is the one jumping he thinks it’s SO fun. it’s like you’re flying!

30. Your OTP gets to pick out each other's outfits; what is each wearing?

uhhh. nsfw? but i could see them picking out something really stupid for each other tho. actually tucker would pick something super nice and church would pick out something as a joke and then feel like an asshole about it.

31. Can they sit side by side without touching the other or are they handsy? (lacing fingers, touching knees, etc.)

tucker is the most handsy person in the fucking world and church is so touch starved he’s dying so they are literally all over each other. caboose is also there he is holding them both at all times.

32. Who's the better story teller?

church probably. he’s overdramatic while tucker is just kind of boring with it.

33. Who's the better cook?

church is better at following recipes but tucker is better at winging it. so tuckers food is usually more simple but it tastes better most of the time

34. Who's more likely to tell a dirty joke or story to make the other blush?

lol. who could possibly be the one more likely to tell a dirty joke here. i could not imagine.

35. Who's more artistic?

neither are artistic in a traditional sense (church literally put his creatively Somewhere Else) but tucker is super musically inclined

36. Who's more likely to fire up the stove at 2am because the other woke up in the middle of the night hungry?

church doesn’t need to sleep and gets so fucking annoyed hearing tuckers stomach growling

37. Which is more likely to swear?

lol

38. Who is more sexually experimental? Who's more vanilla?

lol nsfw. tuckers more experimental but that’s only bc church doesn’t need to experiment he knows what he wants

39. Who would rescue an injured animal and nurse it back to health? What would the other think?

tucker would bring home an animal and church would be so mad about it and then he’s up at 4am hand feeding it food that he crushed himself all the while complaining about how much he hates it

40. Who has an insatiable appetite? And what does the other do to help?

uh. surprisingly this is kind of spoilers.

41. Which one would take their jacket it off and drape over the other one because they were visibly shivering?

church but he claims it’s because tucker shaking is so annoying and church has internal temperature regulation systems anyway

42. What's their favorite type of weather to enjoy together? (getting snowed in together, watching thunderstorms, etc.)

oh i think they have opposite weather feelings lol. church likes the cold, tucker likes the heat. i think they both hate the rain together tho. bonding over being mad about the wet

43. Who would give their life for the other without a second thought?

lol. lol. lol.

44. Who would dance in the kitchen making dinner? Would the other join in or watch from the doorway?

tucker 🥺 church would definitely be watching and then be pulled in and annoyed about it and just. cute.

45. Can they fall asleep without the other?

church doesn’t need to sleep so he does not bother sleeping unless he’s with tucker or caboose. tucker has more than enough practice sleeping in the worst of situations but he is 🥺 about having to sleep without church

46. Would they get frisky at the movies by themselves?

LMAO YES. remove the “by themselves” lmao. lmao.

47. Does either of them have a secret that could potentially ruin their relationship?

spoilers. but also. they’re both convinced that the secret of them having feelings for the other is this

48. Who's the better driver?

church is an ai that was literally made to be in charge of helping maintain a space ship the size of a city. so tucker.

49. Does either of them have a hard time being away from the other?

they cry EVERY DAY they are apart so sad so tragedy

50. Who's more likely to do something out of spite?

LMAO. they are so fucking. they are constantly fueled by spite. everything they do is out of spite. church is more spite but. tucker is there too

51. What’s a non verbal way they say I love you?

church’s love language is 100% acts of service. he can’t tell you how he feels but he can make sure all of your medication is in order and to call to confirm your appointment and have you been eating enough vegetables lately? ugh he’ll have to hide them in your food for you so annoying. no shut up he’ll do it. he’s already doing it. tucker is just. constantly having his hands on church and kissing him and just hoping, praying that somehow everything he feels can be transmitted through just his lips grazing churchs skin

52. Describe their weekend getaway?

uhhhh. i have ideas for a honeymoon but. for a weekend… maybe they just go some place quiet and spend the weekend boning. or they go somewhere fun with caboose and junior and [spoilers]

53. Would they ever go skinny dipping?

tucker lives to go skinny dipping. church would think it’s stupid but do it anyway

54. Who’s more likely to carry the other to bed?

church demands to be carried at all times. but the one doing the most carrying is caboose. he loves to pick up his friends

55. Do they like watching clouds or star gazing?

no they are not deep. actually. church does like looking out at the stars when he’s on a ship. reminds him of a time when things were. good. tucker still doesn’t really know how to react when church gets wistful bc it’s such a rare and jarring experience so he just. stands there with him and holds his hand. even though he’s really REALLY bored.

56. What do they do turn the other on/put them in the mood?

aha uhhh nsfw.

57. Whose the serious one when grocery shopping and who likes to toss random things in the cart?

their cart is 100% snacks and bullshit. they both take turns being the one to put in real food and being the one to put snacky treats.

58. Who’s more likely to hold a grudge after an argument?

they are SO talented at holding grudges #1 grudge holders 2559

59. Who tops? Who bottoms?

nsfw. they switch

60. Who pulls the other closer when they’re sleeping?

i don’t know if either of them would. caboose.

[hashimada-week]

FAQs

When will this event take place?

Interest Check: March 1 - 15

Prompts Posted: March 20

Sneak Peak Day: June 9

Posting Dates: July 9 - 15

Who can submit work?

This is an open event so everyone can participate!

How do I submit work?

On Tumblr: post/link work @ this blog (@hashimada-week) and tag it with #hashimadaweek2023.

We also have a Twitter: @hashimadaweek and #hashimadaweek2023.

If it’s not reblogged/retweeted within 24 hours, feel free to send an ask/dm, it might have gotten buried!

Will an Ao3 Collection be made for this event?

Yes! It’s already created and will be opened a week in advance for submissions: HashiMada Week 2023.

What kind of work will be accepted?

Pretty much anything! Fanart, fics, edits, AMVs, headcanon/meta posts etc. Feel free to send an ask for specific clarification.

A/B/O AUs aren’t allowed, are other kinds of AUs ok?

Yes! No A/B/O AU is a mod preference, other AUs are perfectly fine for any day!

What if I want to write something in your rule’s ‘not allowed’ list?

You are more than welcome to create whatever content you’d like in your personal time, but the ‘not allowed’ list’s purpose is to appeal to a wide audience and our mod’s personal comfort. If you’d like to host your own event with no restrictions at all, we encourage you to do so! However, we will be sticking to our rules for this event.

Is early/late posting allowed?

The event date is to be determined after the results of the interest check. We will continue our ‘sneak peek’ day from last year on June 9th, but no other early posting will be reblogged here until the start of the event.

Late posting will be allowed until the end of July.

What did you say about that sneak-peek/progress check?

One question in our first interest check was about early progress checks. Typically week events don’t have them, but this sounded like a fun option to get people excited during the creation period! Tag any sketches/excerpts/etc. with #hashimadaweek2023sneakpeek on Tumblr or Twitter on June 9th and we’ll reblog it! (You can also @ us too on either platform.) Again, this is 100% optional and if you share a sneak peek, you are not obligated to finish/post the work for the event itself. This is just for fun!

Are dark fics/unhappy endings/tragedy allowed?

Yes! As long as the fic is focused on hashimada and the rest of our rules are followed, feel free to interpret any prompt in the most angsty, heart-wrenching way possible!

Can I reuse old works for this event?

No, sorry! Only new content, please! If there’s another week happening at the same time, cross-posting is allowed as long as our rules are met and hashimada is the focus of the work!

Is there a minimum word count for fics/completion status for fanart?

Nope! Make the fics as long or as short as you want and everything from sketches to full-color artwork will be accepted as long as it’s hashimada themed and follows the rest of the rules.

Can I complete only one prompt or do I need to complete all?

You can do one prompt or all or anything in-between! Do as much or as little as you’d like!

I’m not a native English speaker, so, can I post stuff in Spanish? Thank you! / Are fanfics only allowed in English? / Can I participate if I speak, read and write in Spanish?

We accept works in all languages as long as they are properly tagged and follow our rules!

Are platonic works okay, or does the ship have to be romantic specifically?

This is a ship week event so we are expecting most works will be romantic in nature, but platonic relationships are allowed too!

Depending on participating writers/artists mood…maybe two+ prompts per day, at least one G rated and one M rated would be nice. Is this possible?

There will be three prompts per day (because we couldn’t decide between a few, lol!) In an attempt to make the prompts as broad as possible we don’t have “G” or “M” ratings, but each individual creator is allowed to interpret them however they’d like.

I heard there’d be merch?

Yes! We’re doing stickers this year. Check out the Sticker Merch FAQ for more information!

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If any tagged work breaks our rules, it will not be reblogged here.

If you have any additional questions, please don’t hesitate to ask!

[shiftperception]

alternate take on legends protagonist, started as a self insert but I want to make them their own thing:

-Unhinged!! They don’t want to destroy the world per say, but becoming god? Harnessing the power of creation? Jokes on you they’re into that shit! You see the rift incident wasn’t a total accident on their part. Sure, they stumbled into it. But one does not simply spend their time creeping around spear pillar if they’re not looking for rifts to stumble into. Much like Volo they’ve been tailing arceus and the creation trio for years. Heard reports of strange activity, went to investigate. Oops I fell into the rift whatever shall I do~?

-Aside from Kamado’s general suspicions the village folk never truly question their intense fascination with pokemon, especially of the legendary variety. So easily impressed by their skill and quick to fall into praising their dedication to research and the Galaxy Team’s cause. They’re 100% a closet mad scientist, but it’s so cute how the professor and that sweet survey corp kid call them a hero! They don’t have the heart to ruin the fun! And of course free (not really) lodging is also a plus.

-Let’s 👏🏻 Get 👏🏻 Meta 👏🏻 !! I don’t wanna get into territory that implies a real ass person is interacting with what (to them) are literal game characters. Cause there’s a ship here and despite uhh everything I’m not that far gone. plz understand this. but plz also understand my whole point is to go wild with reality bending shenanigans. Case in point: This person is the only one who can read unown. Volo wasted hours of his life staring at inscriptions in ruins taking notes, cross referencing every language in recorded history getting absolutely nowhere. Because unown are english letters. The pokemon world has its own letters, they don’t look like unown.

-Occasionally slip in their vocab. People brush it off as them being from the future. In the thing I just wrote they go “at sp- The temple.” Ah shit it’s not called spear pillar yet. Call the lustrous globe and adamant crystal “orbs.” that’s future stuff. but then there’s other stuff. “Unown the pokemon. You’ve never heard of them? Little floating eyes, alphabet soup. Code of the world? Not ringing any bells?” *details their venture into a space time distortion* “Great haul this time! Grabbed a bunch of RGB shards too.” Think Narnia, Wizard of Oz, classic fantasy/fairy tale stuff y’know? MC is transported to a magical world. Which for the purpose of this AU is a very real alternate reality. Look the fourth wall and I have a history ok... I know what I’m doing. part of my hyperfixation is the excitement of getting to use my Thing™️ in a pokemon fic.

-The way they talk like a modern person in my time loop shitpost/ficlet is gonna be on purpose too. It’d sound pretty weird to talk like that in meiji period japan I think, and this character would know that. They’d edit their voice and dial it back a lot around... basically everyone. Except Volo. They get fellow mad scientist vibes from Volo and drop their guard for him quite noticeably. Especially after the time he accused the rift of spitting them out to get in his way and looked straight up, where their homeworld beyond the sky would be. If I were there now... he might’ve looked right into my eyes. They see him and think: He knows I don’t belong here, and that he doesn’t belong either. We’re the same! Mayhaps we can not belong together??

-Zero self preservation. Rushes into fights with creatures in the wilderness without hesitation, sees portals tear open the sky and bounces excitedly. “I almost wanna let Volo reset the universe just to see what would happen” wait crap don’t show your hand “but giratina would kill me before I got the chance so- anyway.” nailed it. People ask if they have a death wish. The truth is... they should’ve been dead yesterday. Maybe, in a way, they have died. Many times. Mauled by an ursaring in the woods, drowned, fallen off cliffs, fallen from the sky itself. But every time they “die,” they see it. Them. The code of the world. A sea of eyes drifting and swirling, arranging themselves into strange patterns. Singing an odd lilting melody. There are words they recognize, but the sentence structure is all wrong and the context the words are used in doesn’t make sense. It’s like a foreign language. A language within a language. coding class is kicking my ass And then they wake up. Back at base camp like nothing ever happened. It seems you were rescued. By what? Arceus? Maybe. But somehow... it doesn’t feel like arceus. Arceus has plans. Stories with predetermined endings. Plans that have no room for mine, they never did. No love for those who dare mess with the code of its perfect world. But the code itself? It holds no attachments. It cares not for wrong or right, fate, outcomes. It faces us only with openness. Acceptance. Arceus only cares for us when we play by its rules. Why strive for its approval when the eyes see us void of judgment ha gettit . Tell me Volo, if we could speak to them in a way they’d understand would they care whether or not we bear the name “almighty Sinnoh?” The eyes are pure possibility. If we could speak to them... in their view, what’s the difference between arceus and us? Quit your job. Join my unown farm. Fuck I have too many words I’m dying squirtle

[sukirichi]

jujutsu kaisen characters as students in high school: (non-canon AU)

featuring: itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, gojo satoru, getou suguru, & ryoumen sukuna notes: some parts include you as their friend, or even their high school love! (this is unedited/ not proofread)

masterlist ! requests are open 

𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈

he’s not the brightest bulb, but he makes up for it through hardwork and enthusiasm

yuuji is literally that classmate everyone is just friends with

the type who waves with a smile, saying “good morning!” the moment he walks through that door

with that being said, since he’s everyone’s friend, i headcannon that yuuji doesn’t really have a best friend because he’s so open and available to everyone it’s hard to have just a one on one conversation with him

not to say he’s always surrounded by a crowd that you can’t get near him, but everyone likes talking to yuuji

he just fits in so well and understands people 

kind of like how he easily clicked with junpei (please, i miss him, i still can’t believe that he’s...you know...)

whether it’s the guys raving to him about sports

or girls shyly talking about their crush on class or about that new shojo manga

yuuji is open to anything and everyone. this boy wears his heart on his sleeve and he’s honestly such a precious boy, please be kind to him <3

the type of student that gets called to answer in class but isn’t shy to admit he doesn’t know the answer while rubbing the back of his neck

he does pay attention tho

i think it’s canon that yuuji is a dedicated man, like from that time he just watched movies straight and kept his cursed energy controlled so the cursed corpse would stop hitting him

overall, yuuji is a very hard working student! 

he wouldn’t get over the top grades, but he’s really proud of himself (and he should be!)

also that one kid in class that is surprisingly good in sports despite his lanky figure and laid back persona, because all the other sports-craved people are always flexing or challenging other captains 

but plot twist, this boy is ripped and very, beautifully kept in trim

yeah he’s not really into club activities that much

not because he hates them, but he’s just not that into it. he’s more than glad to join in whatever activities though and enjoys them, but if asked what he’d like to do, it wouldn’t be that first thing that came to mind

in conclusion: itadori yuuji is the class sunflower that lights up everyone’s day  🌻

yuuji’s role: the hard worker! 

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈

hands down, megumi is THAT student

if you’re volunteering in the library, you can sure as hell guarantee you’ll see megumi there

he doesn’t like studying in class because it’s too noisy, so if he’s in school, you’ll always see his name in the library logs

he’s that kid that aces all exams

the type to scowl when he sees a 96% mark because he’s expecting a perfect mark

okay before you come at me, i’m not saying megumi is that annoying smart kid in class that goes, “Oh, I’m so dumb, just a 96?”

no he’s more frustrated at himself because he knows he studied hard and lost sleep over it. he’s just wondering where he went wrong. he has literal note cards and customize flash cards on an app on his phone, waking up every four am and probably taking supplement classes after regular school hours

i headcannon that megumi is someone who always wants to do his best and actually goes through lengths to prove his worth

maybe it stems from having the need to show who he really is and what he’s capable of

but yeah i can totally see him doing that

also that cute student that keeps visiting the cafe every saturday morning, wearing a black hoodie and headphones tucked in, his pretty hands nestling over a book

he looks like a gamer but honestly i don’t think he’s got time for that lmao

would also be that guy people find hard to approach because of his quiet and reserved self

he’s pretty intimidating too

definitely sits beside the window at the back of the class. you can’t fight me on that

just because he’s smart and loves studying, it doesn’t mean he’ll sit on the front row and raise his hand every damn second

the teachers will encourage him to participate in class a little bit more, especially after seeing he’s awkward during group activities, but megumi just really prefers to do things by himself

i also headcannon him eating in the cafeteria like everyone else instead of having his alone time during a rooftop? like idk i can’t picture megumi completely isolating himself like that

he blends in well in a way that you know he’s just like everyone else; a human

but he also stands out in the manner that he’s a lot more introverted and reserved compared to everyone else

surprisingly good during sports and relay games

100% reliable

the type to stay up at midnight to finish a group project, sighing because his groupmates doesn’t care as much as he does, but turns it in anyway the next day

he’d be annoyed at them, but he doesn’t really like confrontation so he doesn’t out them to the teacher like that

but he’s also not someone who lets people walk over him, so he’ll simply say something about his groupmates becoming more responsible and to be serious for once as a “warning”

and yeah, he may be closed off, but once you get really close with him (even better if you have similar interests) you’ll find there’s a lot more to him than what you’ve originally seen and he’s actually a pretty great friend and supportive classmate

would teach you instead of just letting you copy his work or snap pictures of his notes

ugh he’s so responsible and morally right and that’s so attractive help

in conclusion: fushiguro megumi is the hidden gem  💎

megumi’s role: the intellectual outsider!

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

man...i don’t know how to start this

i’ve said this about megumi, but gojo is also that student

no, in fact, he’s THE student

everyone loves him. literally everyone

the teachers? smitten

his classmates? in love

the school guard? calls him by his first name

the cleaning lady? turns into a star with the way she lightens up when he’s there

the cafeteria staff? yeah free food because he’s gojo satoru

gojo is what i like to call the “one who has it all” because....well, he kind of does

he’s really smart and talented, which comes as a surprise to everyone in the first day of school when he nearly gets kicked out for falling asleep in class

only for everyone to be shocked that he knows the answer already and the teacher is only discussing chapter 1 lmao

yeah he’d be that kid who always sleeps in class

or is playing games on his phone behind an open textbook

he literally doesn’t listen to what the teacher is saying at all - or at least that’s what he wants you to think

man is a god at multitasking and his seatmate would snicker because he’s crushing his enemies at a phone game, but then gojo coolly corrects the teacher about history or something

he’s pretty laid back tbh

but when he’s got everyone’s attention on him? ofc he’d show off

basketball meats are wild. even students from neighbouring schools would visit just to see gojo play - and he’s not even an official member! the coach just asked him to replace a sick player but boy won that champion shot

omg BASKETBALL PLAYER GOJO I CAN’T

but he pretty much excels at everything

except cooking class, gosh, don’t ever bring this man anywhere near a fire. that’s probably the only thing that really got him to detention this time because he always somehow talks himself out of getting that red card with his words and charm

also that kid that would receive lots of confession letters, chocolates, and random gifts in his shoe lockers

he knows he’s handsome and he’s not shy about it. in fact, he’s shameless when it comes to his allure on people

but he also doesn’t really date anyone (it’s canon this man won’t stay loyal to a single woman lmao)

if he and megumi were classmates, they’d be sort of rivals

megumi would always come on top of class, but gojo is just a breath away from the former’s perfect marks. if it only weren’t for megumi’s squeaky clean record and reputation - whereas satoru’s is TAINTED as heck - and the fact that gojo doesn’t really study as much as gumi, then yeah he’d also be top of the class if he wanted to

on a much more serious note,,,gojo acts like nothing really bothers him and he’s simply that effortless

but i feel like he grew up with tutors from a very young age and that’s how his natural intelligence was just further improved and increased with that type of environment in his childhood

and unlike megumi, i don’t think gojo would really have a set goal in mind on who he wants to be or what he wants to do in the future

he’d just be enjoying the moment <3

in conclusion: gojo satoru is the effortless god!

satoru’s role: the lazy king everyone is envious of 

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

the playboy

you can’t argue with me on this one

he just is, i feel it deep in my SOUL he just is

moment he walks in, all classy and suave aura and all, you can honestly smell and taste the amount of confidence that drips from him

probably came from a well-off family

probably the mayor’s kid lmao and he’s been used to the attention ever since he was young

much like megumi, he’s not really the type to show off his intelligence

and similar to gojo, people are surprised he’s actually got them brain cells just because everyone is more focused on his appearance first

like who would expect this tall hunk beautiful beast of a man with long hair and piercings actually liked classic novels and could effortlessly recite sonatas and poems in different languages

yeah i headcannon that getou is an intellectual, cultured man

ofc having long hair and piercings isn’t allowed in his school, but because he’s geto and the school knows about his family’s influence, they just let it slide

probably comes late to school too

he eats in the cafeteria, but you don’t really see him indulge much. some days, he’ll have his own fancy bento box prepared by a family chef, but geto is actually pretty simple and humble that he also buys packed bread or canned coffee 

takes the library volunteer by surprise when he drops by one friday after class to borrow an old classic novel that even your professors had a hard time analysing

but geto’s like, “oh this? yeah i last read it when i was thirteen, thought i’d read it again”

IDK WHY but I can see him as sort of breaking the rules when it comes to the school uniform

top three buttons of his shirt open when he’s feeling hot or something

doesn’t really keep his tie that tight too

but overall, geto is a composed and well-put together guy

i just can’t picture him slacking when it comes to his appearance, he’s too fancy and pretty for that

he’s also similar to megumi in a way people find it hard to approach them, but most definitely, geto also receives confessions often 

i can see him dating someone after being interested in someone in school and actually being serious with them unlike gojo

then they would be “that” couple that’re just so couple goals

not the type that goes overboard with pda and pulls off the angry face emoji when they hear someone talking about them and they’re like, “NO HE’S MINE”

okay that’s cringe but i legit witnessed that way too many times in high school yall cant blame me lmao

but they’d be more like the chill laid back couple that supports each other in everything and you can just tell they have a happy, healthy relationship

(oh to be getou’s girlfriend in high school and his first love and all his firsts)

in conclusion: getou suguru is the unpredictable!

getou’s role is: that one classmate you really admire but he’s so far out your league but he’s genuinely a good guy anyway so you’re happy for him no matter what <3

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

okay okay hear me out but...the stoner

i really can’t see him any other way guyssss

and if you’re his classmate, you most likely wouldn’t see him that much either

dude is like 2-3 years older than everyone in class and he doesn’t give a shit about it

he’ll come like...once a week, if he’s in the mood enough

teachers don’t even bother scolding him for his tattoos anymore because there’s rumours going around he’s the son of a yakuza leader or that he’s a gangster who sells organs or some creepy dark stuff

ofc he doesn’t do that

he just does drugs and gets drunk at most

sukuna doesn’t really have that much friends either. yeah he parties with people and often gets high with some older kids, but he doesn’t genuinely enjoy their companies either

would totally come to school with his uniform unironed

red-eyed from his high and naps at the back of the class, making the teacher soften their voice in fear of waking him up

also doesn’t have a pen or paper

i mean...he doesn’t even bring a bag

fails the exams all the time, making him repeat year by year, and he’s even known for beating his senpai up for something stupid and sending the guy to a hospital where he stays for two weeks

but on the other hand

he’s also freakishly attractive and surprisingly easy to talk to

you probably bumped into him one time and you profusely apologize, but then he notices something about, something odd like, “did you just cut your hair?”

“uhm yes...you noticed?”

sukuna shrugs lazily, “noticed something was different, but whatever. it looks good on you though.”

he’s just soooo nonchalant most of the time, it’s hard to believe he’s actually pretty violent

but yeah this man has anger issues i’m sorry

but with that speaking, i actually don’t see sukuna as a bully with like a gang of his “followers” or that type of jazz

he’s more like the kid that hides under the bleachers or gets high in a storage room while everyone else is occupied with school festivals

it’s a shock he even came, but sukuna just says “free food is always a gift” but ofc it’s not free food...he just steals from the stalls

now here comes the fun part

so now that we know sukuna pretty much is a hopeless case...suddenly, he isn’t? maybe he meets you, the class volunteer who goes out of their way to visit his shabby apartment just to hand him his class work that he’s missed out on

he obviously disses you at first and ignores you, telling you to get lost

but somehow your kindness and persistence has him breaking

now he starts coming to school often, carrying a pack of gum or mint pops because he smells like weed and he’s slightly conscious of himself

this is supposed to be just them being students in high school, but i could honestly sukuna changing colors once he just gets a better grasp of what would be good for him

or maybe something finally interests him and gives answers to his silent questions

i feel like he’s such a troubled kid and just lacks proper care and attention, but once you become his friend and show him you don’t have bad intentions, he’s actually a loyal and decent guy

and when you two finally get close, you eventually gain enough courage to tutor him. sukuna is actually pretty smart too, he just doesn’t like studying, but when you compliment him, oh man, he melts

“yeah, you actually got that right! i told you you could do this!”

tsk,” he scoffs, “that’s all kindergarten shit.”

“if it is, then why haven’t you graduated?”

“shut the fuck up.”

although he sneers, you and sukuna have gotten close enough that you know both of you don’t mean anything bad behind those words and it’s all light hearted teasing

oh and when you ask him to take a picture with you for “high school memories?”

sukuna is disgusted

“get that thing away from my face - did you just take my photo?”

“yeah, you look pretty cute here! i’m so printing this and putting this in my album.”

sukuna is about to scold you even more, but the thought of you putting your photo together - even when he’s frowning in the picture - in something as sentimental as a photo book really has him softening up

would even try - keyword is try - to study more just so you’d stop frowning when you see his paper covered in red marks all over again

and he’d even try cutting down on his weed for the sake of his “health”

ofc he won’t suddenly - or ever, even - become the amazing student megumi is

he’ll still get into trouble because he’s impulsive and has poor coping skills, also he’s not good with words or dealing with his emotions

but on his good days, he’s a pretty funny guy

it just takes a lot to see that side of him, but it’s worth the time and patience

also i was expecting to write funny scenarios or imagines of stoner! sukuna because he’s too high to even hold a proper conversation sometimes but all i got is him saying weird words like “snail trap” or something when you ask him how his day is

would also have that garbled little laugh when he’s so out of it

sukuna will try to be better though, you just need to be patient him

but my GOSH when he finally graduates

he’s going to hide that little smile because deep down, he’s also pretty proud of himself and how far he’s come <3

lol now this makes me want to writer a high school au lololol

in conclusion: yeah he’s the stoner with a good heart 

which is so not canon...this shouldn’t even be a headcanon we know ryoumen sukuna is PURE EVIL but oh well maybe when I’m down from my sukuna high I’ll write him a lot more canonically

[schrodingersauthorii]

In honor of Salvage Ch. 18, I have prepared the first chapter of my Phoenix Salvage AU. @muffinlance , there’s one scene that’s 100% an improvement in my overall writing structure I pulled from you, and I bet NOBODY can tell which one it is.

—————————

The young soldier must have somehow heard the blade coming. He didn’t have time to cry out, but the panic stains his face. Not quite the easy death Hakoda wanted, but unavoidable, and still far kinder than leaving him to the sea.

Two years of fighting had left many too-young Fire Nation soldiers dead on this deck, but this was different than a battle. Different even than a mercy kill, back when they thought maybe Fire Nation prisoners would simply accept a fate other than death.

The soldier wouldn’t have left them any choice in the end. But he hadn’t forced their hands. Not yet.

One of the men murmured a prayer, a simple benediction for the journey to the next life. This wasn’t the clean up after a battle, and there might not Fire elders speaking rites for the kid somewhere across the sea. The soldier might only have what they give him, and they're pragmatic people- not cruel.

The Fire Nation burns their dead. That would be kindest, but if they could safely build a pyre, then they could have safely kept a firebending prisoner. The young soldier have a sea burial.

The corpse vetoed this. Violently.

Akake and Tuluk yelped, dropping the suddenly burning body onto the wooden deck.

Fire shouldn’t be green and purple, Hakoda barely had to think, and the fire disappeared. He blinked the sparks out of his eyes, and the deck was as clear. No fire, purple-green or otherwise. Just a vaguely soldier shaped mound of ash.

Hakoda reached down to touch it: barely warm, and not so much as a soot mark beneath it.

Something stirred. Something tiny. Hakoda grabbed it without giving himself time to think about it. Whatever it was squirmed frantically in his hand.

Hakoda looked down, expecting- something. A still beating heart, perhaps. A reptile or worm, at the very least. Something repulsive and macabre. But a tiny, down-feathered bird trembled in his hand. He brushed ash off of soft, orange wings. Even filthy, the fledgling glowed like sunrise.

“It’s a bird,” Hakoda said, dumbfounded.

“A bird,” Tuluk repeated.

The bird cheeped in distress. Hakoda started to pet it, but it nearly fell to the deck in its effort to escape his hand. He quickly cupped it with both hands instead. The bird pecked at his fingers.

The entire deck stared in stunned silence. What were they supposed to do with a bird?

————————

Tolko presented a box hastily stuffed with hay from the albatross-pidgeon coop. Hakoda carefully dropped the chick inside. It burrowed down into the loose “nest,” still cheeping incessantly.

“He’s so cute,” Tolko gasped. “What are we going to do with him?”

Tolko stared at the bird with love already in his eyes. The bird stared back with… suspicion. At the very least.

Hakoda’s temples begun a warning throb.

“Ask Kustaa if he can… find anything,” he finally said.

Tolko cooed at the bird as he walked away.

Hakoda felt a dreadful portent hum in his bones: this would not end well, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it.

------

“What is that?” Kustaa asked.

“A bird,” Tolko said. And held the chick up to Kustaa’s face, as if not seeing the puffball was the problem.

“Which might also be a Fire Nation soldier. The Chief wants to know if you can find anything.”

“A soldier.”

“Yeah. He was drifting past, we fished him out, but he was. You know. A Fire Nation soldier. And he said he was a firebender. So.”

“So what?”

“He kind of...died. And spontaneously combusted. The bird was in the ashes. See?”

Tolko brushed the bird’s head and held up a sooty finger. The chick couldn’t really floof in anger- it was already at maximum floof- but it gave its best impression of outrage anyway. Tolko hastily placed it on the table before it could tumble out of his hand.

“This is a bird,” Kustaa said. “I’m a healer, not an ornithologist. Or a shaman. All I’m qualified to say whether or not YOU have brain rot.”

“Umm…” Tolko mumbled.

“Any headaches? Blurred vision? Acute pain in your arms or legs? Motor difficulties?” Kustaa asked as he prodded Tolko’s arms.

“No?”

“Then we’ll work with the assumption that Spirits were involved, not Swamp Fever. Hopefully, a minor Spirit.”

Kustaa leaned down in front of the bird.

“Can you understand us: peck two times, then three.”

Low and behold, the bird did… then stared at them and pecked a deliberate pattern of some sort.

“I don’t understand that,” Kustaa said.

A storm of outraged peeping.

“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Are you a Spirit, one peck for yes, two pecks for no.”

Two pecks, and more outraged peeping.

“...Are you a bird?”

In hindsight, it was incredibly bold of them to assume Zuko knew more than they did about anything.

--------

Tuluk entered Hakoda’s office after a single knock, and Hakoda’s temples immediately resumed pounding.

“Apparently, the bird insists he is the soldier, and NOT a Spirit,” Tuluk said.

Hakoda pinched the bridge of his nose. And resolved to make an offering soon. There were stories about shapeshifting Spirits who forgot they weren’t human.

“Keep an eye on him,” Hakoda said. “We’ll head to the nearest port and find an Earth Sage. This is exactly the kind of trouble we don’t need.”

Tuluk nodded grimly.

A thought struck Hakoda. “How did…?”

Tuluk sighed. “Lots of questions. Lots of patience. Kustaa is positively charmed with the little menace.”

“He’s a bird.”

“A mean one,” Tuluk agreed. “But he’s warmed to Kustaa and Tolko, for stars knows why.”

Hakoda didn’t like the idea of a Spirit getting… attached to his crew, but he liked the idea of an upset Spirit on his ship even less.

“Keep an eye on them, please,” Hakoda said.

Tuluk nodded, understanding in his eyes.

“I’ll do my best, but that’s a conversation you need to have with Kustaa and Tolko. Probably the rest of the crew, too.”

Hakoda’s headache sharpened with knife-like intensity. Tuluk eyed him with concern.

“Chief. Nobody will blame you if you need a drink before that. Kustaa’s almost ordered a shipwide medicinal order.”

Hakoda sighed.

“After,” he promised. And didn’t clarify after what.

—————————-

Their youngest crewman tucked the surly creature into his parka, from where it eyed everyone and everything with deep suspicion. Tolko kept up a mostly one-sided commentary, which the soldier-bird seemed surprisingly engaged with.

“Do you know his name?” Punuk asked as Tolko showed the bird their snack break offerings.

“No,” Tolko said through a mouthful of salted fish. “It’s the character for ‘righteous rule,’ but we couldn’t figure out the pronunciation. So Birdie it is.”

“Birdie” cheeped aggressively enough to attract the other crewmen’s attention for the first time in hours. There was still work to be done, and his constant noise quickly faded into the background.

“That’s terrible. How about… Sparky? Ember?”

“Blaze.”

“Inferno.”

“Red.”

“You can’t call him red, he’s pink.”

“He’s definitely more orange than pink.”

“Orange still isn’t red.”

Ragnalok tossed an empty water skin at the pair.

“Stop torturing the poor guy. He already died once today.”

The trio went quiet.

“Way too soon, man,” Panuk said.

Birdie was… worryingly quiet for several hours after that.

-------

Tolko roused in the middle of the night, awakened by a faint stirring of downy feathers and soft cooing. Birdy was awake. Tolko couldn’t see it, but dawn must be on the horizon.

Birds liked dawn. So did firebenders, presumably. It was early, but Tolko wasn’t tired-tired, so…

Tolko scooped Birdy up in one hand and slid out of his hammock. “We’ll go top deck,” he whispered as he tucked Birdy into his collar.

Birdy cheeped in a maybe grumpy, maybe affirmative way. But it was soft, so Tolko didn’t think he was upset. Birdy was very, very good at communicating when he was upset, bird or not.

It still seemed uncharacteristic. And Birdy was slumping on Tolko’s shoulder in a way he hadn’t yesterday.

Tolko scooped Birdy back into his hand, and Birdy just… cheeped quietly. Cheeped once and fell silent.

Okay. It was early: Birdy might just be tired. It was a Thing, that birds got sleepy when it was dark- even if it wasn’t actually night. They’d go topdeck and watch the sunrise, and if Birdie still seemed off he’d come back and wake Kustaa.

Tolko climbed the last stair just as the sun broke free of the horizon. Birdie chirped softly again, and Tolko held him out into the light.

“It’s beautiful,” Tolko said.

And Birdie once again caught fire on the Spirits damned deck.

[duskamethyst]

de trop.

a/n: idk why but i love creepy and asshole dabi. also, i noticed i just went slightly over 100 followers. thank you!

word count: 5.3k

genre: quirkless AU, smut, nsfw, mature

warnings: disgusting–  noncon, dubcon, pseudo incest, infidelity, forced breeding, degradation

pairings: touya x f!reader (with mentions of enji x reader)

summary: you and enji are married to each other. there is still tension in his relationship with his children and they are still in the process of accepting you as their new mother but touya takes the initiative to get closer to you.

being married to enji todoroki isn’t easy.

you’re a sight for sore eyes. young with a body that’s to die for. to some people, you were considered as a trophy wife or a gold digger judging from the obvious age gap between the two of you and how wealthy he was. you and enji paid no mind to it, the love and trust you had for each other was more than enough to keep the relationship going and it was all that mattered. you enjoyed playing the role of a little housewife; cooking, cleaning and managing the household while he provided for the family. 

his children had a hard time accepting it but what child wouldn’t when their new (super hot) mom is around their age and the strains they had before you exist in their lives didn’t help either. it took months for any of them to even speak to you, and it’s usually only a couple of words throughout a week. deep inside you knew if they ever had a say in their father’s marriage with you, they would be quick object to it.  

you love them, though– with all your heart. you didn’t want to feel like an outsider. you hope to be in their good graces sooner or later so they could fully accept you into the family. you even tried to learn what their favorite meals are and how to cook it. aside from enji, you’ve never really gotten any compliments for your cooking but it’s okay, you took it as an opportunity to try harder! dinner time was always a bit racking and quiet, neither of you nor his children really tried to talk to each other and even when you tried, you were always answered with one word replies that entirely cut off the whole conversation. after dinner, they’d usually walk out from the room to be alone by themselves, leaving only you and enji by the table. nonetheless, fuyumi was nice enough to help you with the dishes. 

usually it'd only be the same faces you see around the house in the evening: enji, natsuo, fuyumi and shouto. all of them were usually occupied with their normal activities outside the house, leaving you alone to manage whatever there was that needed to be done and the only time you’d usually walk out of the house was when you needed to buy groceries. you’re aware that your husband had a total of four children, but you rarely saw the eldest around and you had no idea what he did for a living. all you knew is that you’re a couple of years older than him.

you saw him once at the wedding ceremony, though only for a short while. enji had introduced you to him; touya. if anything, he seemed rather uninterested about the whole thing but you were grateful that he made an effort to come to the wedding although he was also the first one to leave and you never heard from him ever again. like all people around his age, he probably had a lot going on in his life right now.

turning the corner to the todoroki’s residence, you are suddenly met with a male sitting down in front of the gates. you slow down in your tracks as you try to identify the mysterious guy while your hand clutches on your phone harder in preparation to call the police in case it turns out to be some perpetrator roaming the neighborhood in broad daylight. 

however, the man notices you and turns his head towards you– immediately greeting you with his cerulean orbs; a very prominent feature of the todoroki family. 

“touya?” you call hesitantly as the male stands up on his feet, his hands shoved lazily inside his pockets. 

“yeah.” he simply replies as he eyes you up and down when you walk up to him with a grocery bag in one of your hands.

“it’s nice seeing you again!” you chirp as you look up to him in awe, unnoting the mischievous glint in his eyes and his lips quirk into a lopsided smile. “are you here to see your father?” 

“kinda, yeah.” he scratches the back of his neck as he steps aside to allow you to open the gate for the both of you.

“well, he’s at work right now.” you frown before smiling again when an idea pops inside your head. “but you can stay until he’s back. i’ll cook you something while we wait for him. you must be hungry!”

touya doesn’t answer but instead he follows you inside the house. after sliding into your house slippers, you put down your groceries on the table and swiftly put on your apron before taking out the ingredients to begin cooking. 

“i’m not sure what you like… but i can make curry or omelette rice for now.” 

touya snickers as he leans on the kitchen island, eyeing you as you fish out the vegetables from the refrigerator and the grocery bag, “don’t trouble yourself.”

“oh, i insist!” you wave your hand dismissively. “we’re family, after all.”

you turn to the sink to wash each of the vegetables and eggs thoroughly all while striking up a conversation. as you’re about to reach for the cutting board and the knife, a pair of hands suddenly rests on your shoulders, making you jump in surprise. you turn your head around to see touya looming too close behind you as his gaze boringly through you. 

“um, do you need something?” you ask nervously, wiping your wet hands on your apron that you only wrap around your waist and below. 

he ponders for a moment as he continues to stare at you before speaking, “just wondering how you ended up with a scumbag.”

your eyes widen in shock at the heinous word that rolled off his tongue. you’re well aware of the tension in enji’s relationship with his children but none of them dared to say such words about him– well, at least not in front of you but the mocking smile etched on his lips makes you fumed inside and you’re definitely not having it. 

“listen,” you shove his hands away and turn your body towards him. “if you’re here just to insult any of us, the door is wide open for you.”

touya whistles as he revels in the amusement of watching you play the role of a good little wife for his dear father. such pitiful little thing. throwing your youth away and devoting your life for the man that least deserves it. he finds it even more ridiculous how hot you are and his dad was the one that managed to land you, not him. where the fuck did he even find you? why did you even end up with him? you obviously made a mistake and he wants you to see it.

“how good was it? you got fucked dumb by his cock or something?” he jeers. 

you feel your cheeks begin to heat up from anger and embarrassment from his crude words that your hand instantly lifts up to give him a slap on the face. however, it never reaches his cheek instead he has caught you by the wrist– just a few inches away before he’d actually feel the harsh impact. 

“tsk,” he scowls before twisting your hand and making you turn back around and shoves you in front of the counter as you yelp in pain. “got some fight in you, huh? no wonder that old geezer likes you.”

“t-touya– it hurts!” you whine as you struggle under him. he notices how your ass subconsciously rubs on his groin with each movement and (as if he wasn’t already mid hard from seeing your ass when you bent down in front of the fridge) he feels his cock twitch inside the restraints of his pants. he notices that you might’ve realized it too since you suddenly stop grappling and freeze underneath him. 

“why’d you stop?” he chuckles. “such a tease, aren’t you?” 

a tint of pink spreads across your cheeks in shame this time and you quickly shake your head to deny the outrageous accusation. seeing how fast you change from being so uptight to suddenly becoming uneasy in front of him, he thinks you look like a puppy that just got kicked and trembling in fear. and boy, it sparks some sort of disgusting excitement in him. 

“you see,” touya’s fingers reach for the loose ribbon of the apron, easily tugging it as it comes undone before carelessly discarding it to the floor. “it makes me a little jealous.”

as much as your mind is spinning and how scared you feel right now, your eyes wander around to look for something to protect you since you still have your other free hand to reach for the knife. there’s no way you are going to commit murder but you still could threaten him to leave you alone, the very least. if only you could reach for it, though. 

as if he could read your mind, touya grabs a fistful of your hair that leaves a stinging pain on your scalp in order to pull your body back against his. your neck twists to the side as he forces you to look into his menacing eyes. 

“pay attention to me when i’m talking to you.” a sharp and threatening tone enfolds in his voice as he speaks. before you could retaliate, touya turns both of you around and pushes you down towards the kitchen island with his weight pressing behind you to keep you from escaping. he releases the clutch to your wrist and your hands quickly try to prise the hand that has been holding the back of your head. despite your efforts, his grip only remains tighter and makes you wail in agony. 

“shut up.” you don’t miss the rattling sound of a metal buckle coming from your back. when he releases the grasp on your hair, he swiftly pulls both of your wrists together and next thing you know, the texture of leather can be felt brushing against your skin. 

“touya, let go.” you muster all the courage you still have but your voice betrays you as it comes out weak and meek. 

“no,” he grins. “i like seeing you like this.” he presses his body down further, making you bend down on the counter and you gasp in surprise as he takes the opportunity to rub his hard-on against your ass. 

“fuck.” he growls in your ear. the friction feels like an itch that he finally gets to reach. almost. the soft flesh feels so good against his cock and he can’t help but wonder what it’d feel like to be inside of you. you must be warm and tight. god, he hopes it’s tight. 

it’s wrong. it’s so wrong. you chant inside your head as you find your thighs already pressing against each other while touya is making himself busy finding relief from your back and the grunts in your ear don't help either. you want to cry, you want him to stop but the twisted feeling in your gut tells you otherwise. you feel revolted and disappointed in yourself.

the grinding comes to a halt as he pushes himself back to take off your jeans. the thick fabric is in the way and it isn’t enough for the ache in his pants. his bottom lip gets caught between his teeth as he relishes in the sight of your ass, adorned with a pair of simple red panties that seems to be provoking him further. 

“shit, you’re gonna make me cream in my pants.” touya smacks the flesh hard enough to see it bounce and you yelp in shock and humiliation. his fingers move around your thigh to reach your clit and to both of your surprise, your juices are already pooling and forming a damp patch on the flimsy fabric. 

your heart stops and your eyes wide open in horror as touya’s sinister laugh rings in your ears. 

“holy fuck. mommy is a fucking whore.” he mocks, voice laced with amusement on his discovery. 

“stop this, touya.” you plea but a sharp pain shoots throughout your body as a hand comes down hard on your ass again. he has one hand pushing you down on the island by the neck, your cheek pressed against the cold marble and one roughly spreads your legs apart before pulling your panties down, the slick forming a clear string from your sopping cunt onto the fabric and eventually splits as it slides down further to the floor. 

“why? you clearly enjoy this.” he breathes against the shell of your ear, making your body shudder in response. you open your mouth to retort, instead a soft mewl slips out from your lips when his fingers creep up on your slits and coating it with your essence. his thumb rubs circles on your throbbing clit and it got you biting your lower lip to stop any more shameful noises from escaping. 

seeing how stubborn you are is leaving him unsatisfied so touya props himself on his knees and pulls you closer to his face by the hips. he swallows almost too loudly when he sees how your pussy is glistening with your slick when he spreads open the folds with his fingers. immediately, he sticks out his tongue and begins to lap off the juices from your dripping cunny. 

“nggh– ” you try to push away but the firm hold he has on your thighs only pulls you closer to his face and cements you in place. you turn your head to look back at the male, but the sight of his face drowning between your ass cheeks only adds more fuel to your arousal. his eyes flutter open and catch you staring. he continues to lock his gaze with yours as he watches you whimper when he inserts his tongue into your wet, gaping hole. 

it feels so lewd, so dirty but fuck it makes your hips jerk desperately closer to his face, wanting his tongue to fuck inside you deeper and drool starts to trickle from the corner of your mouth. the kitchen is filled with nothing but the pants and squelching sounds that are borderline pornographic as he sucks and laps all your essence. touya revels in your flavor as his wet muscle moves in and out deliciously while his mind wanders and curses how enji got to be the one to taste you like this every night. 

“wanna cum already?” he audibly whispers as he realizes how your legs are already trembling. if it wasn't for him holding your thighs, you would’ve sink down to the floor. 

it shouldn’t be a question. of course you want to cum. he’s only asking because he wants to humiliate you and probably to boost his ego. so you remain quiet through the heavy breathing while painfully trying to deny your orgasm. 

a cocky grin quirked on his lips and you don’t miss how his chin and lips are shimmering wet with your juices. touya is strong-willed and he takes your stubbornness as a challenge. he actually prefers to deny you your orgasm but he’ll save it for another time because right now, he wants nothing more than to make you cum on his tongue. 

“can’t hear you, doll face.” he slides in two digits inside your cunt and groans at the way your walls are already milking his fingers. touya can’t wait to ram his cock inside your tight pussy so he sets up a new determination; pumping his fingers fast and deep to make you cum faster. 

an uncomfortable sensation is squeezing down in your core from the intrusion. it gives you some sort of relief and throb at the same time. it feels peculiar; something like you’ve never felt before and it feels so fucking intense. touya rubs deep circles on your clit and you’re no longer able to hold in the moans from your lips and your eyes squeeze shut as the orgasm continues to build until it dramatically crashes down– your vision turns white at your foreign but mind blowing release. 

you erratically pant for air and your eyes flutter open again to realize that you just squirted. 

“that was so fucking hot.” he pulls out his fingers and slaps your pussy. you whine at how your cunt convulses from how empty it suddenly feels. “don’t worry, doll. i’m gonna give you something better.” he coos and gets back up on his feet.

your body is already limp from your release and you’re feeling light headed that you don’t even fight back when touya carries you over his shoulder and walks out from the kitchen. your eyes wander from door to door, thinking that he’s probably marching towards his room. 

but once you land on a familiar large and bouncy bed, eyes staring up to the familiar ceiling– you know something is terribly wrong. as if to reaffirm yourself, you turn your head to the side and you clearly see the picture of you and enji from the wedding ceremony on the vanity. there’s no doubt that touya has brought you to the very room where you share your nights together with your husband. 

your stomach churns once touya immediately hovers above your body and caging you in, a smug and devilish grin curves on his lips. 

“d-don’t do this, touya– ” you whimper, the restraints from your back making you uncomfortable as you try to move. 

“ah, ah.” he shushes you. “after i made you squirt on my face, of course i have to feel your pretty pussy around my cock. bet he never even made you squirt before.” he knows damn well it’s true because he sees the hesitation in your eyes before you look away in embarrassment. 

your bottom part is already bare and naked when he kicked off your jeans and panties before carrying you earlier and he kneels between your thighs to keep your legs spread. touya kisses you before you can even utter another word and he easily slides his tongue inside your mouth when you gasp in surprise. 

while his tongue is roaming around in your mouth, sucking on your tongue and making you pant for air, his hand snakes into your shirt to grab a handful of your breast. he starts to massage your mound, fingers slipping into your bra to rub your hardened nipple with his index and thumb. the kiss breaks as you mewl underneath him and he leans further down and attacks the soft flesh of your neck with his teeth.

“don’t– it’ll leave a mark.” you say between pants. 

touya pulls away to look at you. his turquoise eyes flash between amusement and bewilderment. “that’s the only thing you’re worried about?” he cackles. “not at the fact that another guy is gonna fuck you on your husband’s bed?”

your cheeks burn pink in shame when you realize that he’s right. you’re worried about the wrong thing. your mind fumbles to find the right words, to make it make sense when you’re also trying to reason with yourself in this compromising position. 

touya realizes the question strikes something in you from the perplexed look on your face and he finds great pleasure in it. your attention draws back to him as he suddenly lifts up your shirt, a brow raises when he notices you’re sporting a front clasp bra. you’re really making this easy for him, aren’t you? it’s almost like you’re asking for it. 

“then i’ll leave a mark where no one can see.” he suggests nonchalantly, reaching to unclasp your bra before your breasts pours out from the confinements. touya leans down to suck on one nipple while he flicks the other with his finger, sending waves of pleasure down to your core. you squeal at the sensitivity, thighs unable to press against each other for relief because his own legs keep you nice and open. 

touya continues to suck and nibble harshly on the skin of your breasts, still intent to leave bruising marks all over your chest while you try to shake him away. while the possibility of having marks on your neck is bad, having them on your breasts are even worse. should enji wants to fuck you tonight, would he let you keep a shirt on? would it seem weird? his orders are absolute and you always listened like a good girl but what if–

“you’ll be sore by tonight, i don’t think you can take another cock inside your slutty cunt.” as if he could read your mind, he interrupts your train of thoughts.

touya stands on his knees and a sense of pride washes over him as he takes in the view of littering bruises on your breasts and the flustered look on your face. he continues to take off his jeans and boxers down to his knees before kicking them off the bed. his hard cock finally getting an alleviation as it springs free from the restraints of his jeans for too long. 

the tip is already flushed with a bead of precum and you swallow heavily at the girth– it’s not as thick as enji’s but the length makes up for it. touya begins to line his cock with your entrance, mixing the pre from the tip with the juices from your sopping pussy. a soft whine finds its way past your lips as he rubs his tip through your folds and teases your neglected clit. 

“are you gonna let me fuck this pretty little pussy?” he nudges your clit as his cold gaze pierces through you. “on your husband’s bed?”

the reason touya never stops pointing it out is simply because he likes it. he gets off to the thought that he gets to fuck his dad’s hot wife on his own bed and especially when she is this submissive and vulnerable. above all, enji is his least favorite person in this world. 

you seem reluctant but there’s a brief glint of lust in your doe eyes and it makes his cock grow impossibly bigger. 

“if you’re not gonna answer me, i’ll just leave you like this until he comes home.” the threat masks his impatience. he can’t wait to fill you to the brim and make you cream all around his cock. 

you shake your head, “n-no, don’t! i– please...”

“please, what?” he snickers, slowly poking his tip just by the entrance before pulling out and it affects your body just as much as his. “tell me what you want.”

“please,” you purse your lips flat, bracing yourself before the next few words. “f-fuck me.” 

touya pushes your legs back to your chest before pulling you back down closer to him. a hiss slips out from his lips as he protrudes into your warm cunt– it’s everything he imagined it to be and you’re already sucking him in. you’re so perfect for him.

“so fucking tight,” he growls as he inches in deeper until he’s in balls deep while you squirm underneath him. “i don’t think he fucked you right.”

that’s wrong. in fact, your sex life has been fulfilling. enji can be rough but he can be gentle when you ask him to. the only extra points touya gets is the fact that he managed to make you squirt once and nothing more than that! hopefully.

the current position makes you put your weight on your back and it’s causing discomfort when you have your arms tied behind you but the moment touya starts to pound into your pussy, the ache suddenly becomes the least of your worries and is replaced by the feeling of being stuffed full by his cock. you can feel the popping vein brushing against your walls each time he rams in. 

thanks to your dripping cunt, his pace is relentless and you quickly become nothing more than a moaning mess. 

“who’s fucking you– hah– this good?” he grunts, eyes watching you as your face contorts into a blissful expression with his every thrust. he smacks and bite your thigh roughly in an attempt to draw your attention to him. 

“y-you are!” you wail in a mixture of shame, pain and pleasure. 

“what’s my name, slut?” 

“t-touya!” the lack of resistance in your voice surprises not only you but also him.

he lets out a throaty chuckle, “don’t tell me you’re already dumb on my cock?” he rams deeper and you can feel the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix. “such a dirty whore.”

you find yourself not able to care about the crude names he’s throwing at you anymore. he’s right, you’re already drunk on his cock. touya rejoices in the sight before him and burns the image deep inside his memory. he wishes he could send a picture of you to his father, his mind already picturing the horrid look on his face and it serves as a fuel to the firing resentment inside him.

“you like me fucking you while your husband is out?” the thought of it is so revolting but it somehow makes your pussy throb. it’s as if there’s an ongoing war inside your head and your body seems to betray you.

he presses down on your clit and you feel your pussy clench tighter around his cock. the pressure that has been building overtime feels so tight and it’s threatening to snap. 

“ah– gonna cum!” you cry. you feel so close and your toes are already curled in anticipation for your next orgasm. 

but you’re suddenly pulled far away from your awaiting orgasm and you let out a pathetic whine when touya suddenly stops ramming his cock inside you. 

“if you’re gonna cum on my cock,” he grabs you firmly before rolling to the side so he’s laying on his back while you’re propped up above him with his cock still inside you. “then you gotta work for it.”

instinctively, your hips begin to roll desperately. you’re just so horny and so needy for his cock. 

“that’s a good slut.” he moans. his hands rests firmly on your hips to guide and help you from falling down as you wildly bounce on his cock. suddenly, the sound of a shredded fabric rings in your ears and you realize that touya has ripped off the shirt that you still had on earlier while your bra is already hanging loosely down your arms.

now everything is perfect. your back is arched and your amazing tits are bouncing up and down in front of him while you ride his cock in desperation to reach for your high. 

“tell me i fuck you better than your husband does.” he teases your clit with his thumb and your head lulls back from the intensity and tingling sensation in your core. 

you bite your lip so hard, it could draw blood. you don’t answer him but instead you try to grind closer and harder on his mere touch, your mouth agape as you whine like the bitch in heat you are.

“say it.” he presses his thumb harder but draws back immediately when your body starts to shake. you’re panting for air and the roll of your hips start to stutter though still aching for your release.

“t-touya, i want to–”

“then let me hear you fucking say it,” he smacks your thigh before gripping your hips to force you to stay completely still. “you had no problem screaming my name earlier.” he mocks, fingers digging into your flesh.

your slick is dripping down on his balls, your walls are already clenching on his cock and you’re just longing for some friction to fully push you over the edge. “you fuck me so much better than him, touya.”

“mmhmm,” he lets out a triumph sigh, guiding your hips to move agonizingly. “what else?”

what else? what else does he want you to say? your mind is already hazy with lust and the tight coil in your guts are begging to snap any time soon. 

“i-i want you so much! need your cock! want your cock to make me–  ah!” 

touya lifts up your hips slightly and slams deep inside your cunt. an overwhelming sensation aches deliciously in you core and it only grows more with every thrust. strings of curses escape from his lips and his fingers bury in so deep into your skin, you’re certain that it’s going to leave more marks on your body. 

his thrusts are so vicious and you can’t prop yourself up any longer and it results in you quickly melting down to his sweaty chest. his hands clutches the meat of your ass as he lifts up his hips higher and continuously rams inside your pussy while your hips buck to meet his thrusts. 

“ngh– fuck. right there!” you moan as your body quivers and there’s the presence of that intense feeling again. a feeling you can’t quite catch in the pits of your stomach but is begging to come out. with a snap of his hips and his teeth sinking on your shoulder, a potent wave of pleasure washes throughout your body and you could see stars. your hips shake brutally from the results of the impact and your mouth parts to a silent scream. 

your breathing turns inconsistent as you find solace in his rapid heartbeat. 

“you’re not lying, huh?” he muses. you look up at him meekly and confused but his eyes are concentrated where your bodies are joined together and he’s very pleased. “you really needed my cock to squirt.” 

the bed sheet is soaked now. the very bed where you and enji always cuddle up against each other and you ruined it. because of another man, and not just any man– has caused you to wreck it. 

“i’m not done with you yet.” touya pulls out his cock and pushes himself off of you so you’re laying weakly on your stomach. he positions behind you before lifting up your hips, forcing your back to arch and ass to perk while your cheek rests against the mattress. your body shivers as you feel his tongue licks a strip of your juices. a groan erupts from his throat as he mercilessly slides his cock inside your dripping cunny. you wail from the overstimulation but he pays no mind to it as he remains rutting his hips in pursuit of his own orgasm. 

“that’s it, doll. so– fucking good.” he breathes as he picks up his pace while you whimper underneath him. “you can take it, yeah.” you hope that he’s showing you concern but the tone of his voice implies that it’s a command rather than a question. 

the grasps on your hips are tighter each time he impales his cock inside you. his thrusts are so strong that you can feel your head getting closer to the headboard. the lecherous noises of skin slapping against each other reverberates throughout the huge room, almost loud enough to overpower both of your gasps and moans. 

“i’m gonna fill this slutty cunt with my cum,” he grunts, rutting his hips faster. “you want it, right? fuck– make you carry my children.” 

realization shoots through you and tears start to well in the corner of your eyes. “no, no. please, not inside!” 

his sporadic pace starts to falter before his cock twitches inside you and you feel warm, ropes of cum filling up inside you. touya breathes heavily and his semen drips along from your pussy as he pulls out his cock. he keeps your hips in place as he shoves back in the cum inside with his finger before untying your wrists and laying down next to you to catch his breath. 

“don’t worry your pretty head. the bastard will never find out.” he suddenly interrupts after a brief moment of silence. you both know what he’s going on about and it’s definitely not the bruises nor how messed up the bed is. 

“h-how?” 

“it’s gonna come out of you. he’s never gonna ask any questions.” 

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[hlizr50]

Gwynriel Week Day 4 - Music

I'm back, my lovelies. Appreciate the patience.

Let's talk MUSIC, because I have established (with OVERWHELMING support) that Gwyneth Berdara would absolutely LOVE Taylor Swift and would 100% convert Azriel. He would play all begrudging and 'you have questionable tastes, Berdara' but behind closed doors and when they're alone together he's all in. And T. Swift has EVERYTHING. They can be lovey, they can be playful, they can be bitter. There are SO many options.

And, of course, I wouldn't be me if writing weren't involved.

I've started the series called 'Gwynriel and Her Highness Taylor Swift' on AO3, which will follow our favorite couple in AU fics with a sprinkling of T. Swift. You can read the first one, 'You Belong with Me', here.

And now I present the next installment:

Safe and Sound

Read on AO3

TW: Brief mention of past sexual assault and violence - no details, just that it happened

Gwyn's nightmares rear their ugly heads and Azriel is there to comfort her. She tells him about what happened the night her sister died and he finally understands the shadows he sees behind her happy eyes. She's afraid it might ruin their relationship only hours after it's begun, but he's there to prove her wrong - with the help of a little T. Swift lullaby.

The night was shattered by a blood-curdling scream.

Azriel’s eyes flew open and he sat up, frantically searching in the dark. It took a few moments for the fog of sleep to burn away from his brain. He was at the cabin. For vacation. He’d come a day early to make sure everything was on the up-and-up. With Gwyn. They were a couple. Officially. The first few hours had been absolutely ordinary and wonderful.

“Stop! Please stop!”

Gwyn. Fuck, it was Gwyn!

He was out of bed and out the door in a second, sprinting down the hall. “Gwyn!” he called as he reached the closed door, but the screaming, the crying – it didn’t stop. Not giving himself time to overthink he turned the knob and pushed the door open wide. The room was bathed in the faintest glow of moonlight, allowing him to see the flailing form on the bed, tangled in sheets and begging the demons that were in her dreams.

When he reached the side of the bed his heart may have cracked open. Her forehead glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, her eyes were screwed tight, and her cheeks shimmered with tears.

“No. No, no, no,” she cried through clenched teeth, and Azriel decided he couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t know what to do, but he needed to help her, to draw her away from whatever was tormenting her. He reached through her flying arms and cupped her cheeks between his hands.

“Gwyn. Wake up!” he called to her, willing her to wake. “Gwyn, please, it’s a nightmare. You’re safe, sweetheart.” Her eyes shot open, teal pools swimming with fear and confusion. Her limbs had stopped writhing, but God he could feel her shaking.

“Azriel?” she whispered weakly.

“Yes, Gwyn. It’s me. Don’t be scared.” He let his thumbs brush over her cheeks, wiping away tears that still fell freely over her freckled cheeks. “Talk to me, sweetheart. What can I do?”

She stared at him, chest heaving with deep ragged breaths, as if contemplating what to do. Azriel could understand. This was a vulnerable moment, and even though they’d been close friends for a couple years this was new territory. He had never heard her have a nightmare, and it wrenched into his gut like a knife. The feeling of uncertainty, of not knowing how to help her, only served to prove how deeply he cared about her. Their relationship was only hours old, but that was only because he’d been a coward and not because he hadn’t wanted to be with her - hadn't been falling for her already.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She sighed and closed her eyes. “Not really. But we probably should.”

When new tears started leaking out from under her thick lashes he released her cheeks and stepped a knee onto the mattress. Scooping her up he leaned against the headboard and folded his legs in front of him, tucking the fiery crown of copper hair beneath his chin. He gave her time, content to trace fingers lightly over the thin t-shirt covering her back.

“Az, I… there’s something you should know. Something you should’ve known before you decided you wanted to be in a relationship with me.”

His brows furrowed. “You think it would change my mind?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, voice barely even a whisper. The silence stretched again. He couldn’t imagine what bombshell she thought might doom this before it even began. “How much do you know about the night my sister died?”

Azriel’s hand stilled on her back. This was not the direction he’d expected the conversation to go. But he shouldn’t be too surprised – it was indeed a nightmare-inducing event.

“Not too much. Just that she was killed in your apartment,” he answered, resuming the soothing stroke of his hands up and down her spine. “Nesta said there was more, but that it was your story to tell.”

“I guess it’s your lucky night,” she shrugged in his arms and let out a bitter wet laugh. Azriel just gave her an encouraging squeeze and leaned his cheek into her silky hair.

“Catrin was murdered by her ex-boyfriend. He was abusive, possessive, controlling. He couldn’t handle it when she broke it off with him. And he hated me. He thought that their breakup was my fault. That night he broke into the apartment with a gun and shot Catrin in the head. Killed her instantly. But… he waited there.” Gwyn took a shaky breath. “He waited in the apartment. For me.”

Azriel drew back from her, dread coiling his muscles in grim anticipation. She looked up at him, eyes dull with resignation. He had never seen her wear that expression before – it made his insides feel oily and wrong. His hand remained at her back, and he was determined to keep that calming presence there for her. Trailing his gaze down from her face, over her shoulders, and down her arms, he found her fingers fidgeting in her lap. He took his free hand and covered her delicate fingers, his palm large enough to envelop both of her speckled hands. He lifted his eyes to meet her teal pools again, lifting the corners of his mouth in a soft smile and squeezing gently with his fingers.

He was there for her. Whatever she needed he would give it.

Gwyn’s lashes lowered, breaking her hold on him. He blinked and tried to control his breathing, remaining dedicated to being fully invested in the woman in his arms. The woman who was baring her soul to him.

“He…” she gulped a breath and moved her fingers so they were grasping his hand instead of the other way around. She clung to it, grip like a vice as she mustered her courage. “He raped me. He told me I took her away from him, so he took her away from me. And that I would never, ever forget him.”

There was no air left in the room, Azriel was certain. His lungs wouldn’t work, his mouth was full of sand, his fingers tingling with vengeful need. All he could hear was Gwyn’s tearful, labored panting and echoes of the terror-filled screams that had ripped him from sleep.

“Christ, Gwyn,” he gritted out. The hand on her back lifted to cup her head and pull her to him. “I’m so sorry.” Jesus fucking Christ, no wonder she got nervous in large crowds and around people she didn’t know. No wonder she didn’t feel safe out in the world. The cruelty she had experienced, the evil she had been forced to endure – it was unimaginable. And somehow she still found the strength to smile and laugh and be a pure ray of sunshine to the people around her.

“Obviously the nightmares are one thing, but… but you should know I haven’t done anything with anyone since that night. Not until you kissed me.”

Azriel hissed a curse, grasping her shoulders and pushing her back so he could see her face. “Did I frighten you when I did that?” he asked desperately. If he’d only known, he would have approached that differently. He felt cool hands on his cheeks, breaking him from his panicked reverie.

“No, Az. Not at all.” His heart calmed, and then nearly stopped as she smiled sweetly. “I should have found it terrifying. Honestly, had it been anyone else I probably would have. But, with you it was… amazing. Like magic.”

He couldn’t contain the toothy grin that blossomed when she said that. Like magic. He had felt it, too, but he just figured the magic part was her. He slid his hands from her shoulders to cup her jaw and leaned in to brush his lips across her brow.

“So we need to talk about what makes you feel uncomfortable. So I can make sure you feel safe with me.” Azriel let a thumb slide over the freckles painting her cheek. “Thank you for trusting me with this, Gwyn. I couldn’t forgive myself if I triggered something – if I hurt you.”

Gwyn tilted her head and looked at him curiously, blue-green pools shining with something he couldn’t quite identify. “So…” she began, then trailed off and lowered her gaze. He felt her throat work under his fingers as she looked back to him. “So it doesn’t bother you?”

He regarded her carefully. “What do you mean?” Of course it bothered him. She’d been hurt, and she was still reliving that pain. He wanted to take it away, to make sure she never felt that way again. And he wanted to kill the bastard that had dared to lay a hand on her.

“That you have to be so careful with me,” she answered quietly before lowering those thick lashes and turning her chin away from him. He still had his hands on her jaw, but he let her move as she wished. “And that… that I don’t know what I’ll be able to do, in terms of intimacy. At least at this point- “

“Gwyneth Berdara.” Azriel gently turned her chin back to him. “I wouldn’t give a flying fuck if you wouldn’t do more than hold my hand. I care about you, not sex. Now, what do you like? What should I avoid?” Gwyn wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled herself back into his chest.

“I like this,” she sighed. He wrapped his arms back around her and went back to rubbing his hands over her back. “I think I’m probably okay with most things along the lines of hugs and kisses. As long as it’s not a surprise.”

He chuckled at that. “So no sneaking up and grabbing you from behind?” He pressed a kiss into her hair.

“I like that, too. The kisses.” Her voice was muffled against his chest, and she giggled when he kissed her crown again. “And absolutely no grabbing me from behind,” she confirmed.

“And for anything more, we go at your pace. Whatever you want to try, whenever you want more, you need only ask.” Silence lengthened between them, the night filled with only calm breathing and the gentle scratch of fingers over cotton.

“Do you have nightmares often? I…” Azriel paused, the heaviness of shame creeping into his chest. They were good friends, spent a lot of time together. How did he not know that this was a struggle she faced? “I don’t remember ever hearing anything before.”

“It’s not that bad anymore. But when I’m somewhere unfamiliar sometimes the anxiety triggers them,” Gwyn answered, her fingers fidgeting into the hair at his nape. “I… part of the reason I said I would come early with you was to see what would happen. And if it was a problem, I could go home without anyone being the wiser. I had already checked with Nesta to make sure you could ride back with her and Cassian.”

The softness of her voice – laced with embarrassment – cut into him. “Berdara,” he practically growled. He grasped her shoulders and pushed back so he could look her in the eye. “You were going to leave? Why?” He knew the reason. She’d said it only hours earlier. I don’t want to take away from anyone’s fun.

“Az,” she started, averting her gaze. “The prospect of waking up all of my friends in the middle of the night, screaming and begging, is legitimately mortifying.” He moved his hand to cup her cheek, even though she still wouldn’t look up at him.

“Gwyn, do you think any of us would have a problem with it? That we would judge you?” Even if they all didn’t know the depth of her trauma, she was not the only one with demons that attacked in the night. The answering murmur was almost too quiet to hear, but the words rang loud in his ears.

“I don’t want to cause a scene.”

Azriel thought over the last day. The road trip, the realizations. The determination that had filled him after he watched her dance behind the steering wheel, eyes glittering with mischief. The relief that coursed through his veins, the sunshine that had warmed his soul when she said she’d wanted him to kiss her for awhile, too. The soft smiles, her giggles, the comfort they seemed to share. All the while, beneath the surface, demons and nightmares and fear and pain. How was it that she could be so strong, so resilient? The smiles Gwyn gave to their friends, to him, were genuine and bright. Her laughter was always musical and lively, without even an echo of sorrow.

The shadows behind her eyes had come for her tonight. And she had planned to go home, with whatever weak excuse, and fight them alone.

Not fucking happening.

He cupped her other cheek and pulled her jaw up, that same determination from the previous day emboldening him. “Look at me, Gwyn.” He could feel the heat in her cheeks on his palms, and when her eyelashes lifted he was met with shallow pools darkened with uncertainty, shining with wetness. “You’re not going anywhere, okay? You’re going to stay here and enjoy your vacation because, like I said before, it’s not as much fun without you around.” He bore his gaze into her with an intensity he was unaccustomed to possessing. She sniffled in response, which only melted his heart further, and blinked a few times – clearly trying to keep tears in check as she managed a nod.

“You’re a part of this family, Gwyn. We support each other. We love each other. If anyone else were here tonight instead of me, they would have run here just as quickly as I did. And if it happens again tomorrow night, you’ll probably have the whole gaggle trying to squeeze through the door all at once.” A few stray tears fell from her eyes as a giggle escaped her. Azriel leaned in, capturing each tear between his lips and her cheeks. “You don’t have to deal with this alone. Let us be here for you. Let me.”

At that, the dam broke. Gwyn reached for him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in his neck. He could feel the warm wetness of her tears on his skin, feel her body shake violently against him. Winding his arms around her back, he rocked them back and forth and whispered into her hair.

It’s okay.

I’m here.

You’re not alone.

He started to hum as her sobs began to quiet, still rocking with her in his embrace. He smiled softly to himself. He wouldn’t know this song if it weren’t for her. He didn’t share his voice with many people, but Gwyn had heard it many times. He broke into soft lyrics as the redhead continued to calm in his arms.

Just close your eyes, the sun is going down

You’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now

Come morning light you and I’ll be safe and sound

“Are you…” Gwyn’s thick voice was muffled in his neck. “Are you singing me Taylor Swift?”

Azriel chuckled. “I’ll deny it to everyone we know.” Her head tilted back, and the laugh that lifted into the air was one of the loveliest things he’d ever heard. A pealing bell of joy. She brought her gaze back to him and pulled on his neck to lean his forehead against hers. “I may or may not have come to appreciate the creative works of Taylor Swift. You’ve worn me down, Berdara.” He kept his arms around her back, even as her had moved over his cheek. Her teal stare was alight with emotion, the brightness reflected in a small – but radiant – smile.

“Thank you, Az,” she whispered before pressing her lips so softly to his. When she pulled back, he mirrored her grin.

“I don’t know much about being a good boyfriend,” he offered with a shrug, “but I feel like supporting your girlfriend’s potentially dubious music tastes and comforting her after nightmares are minimum standards. Standards that I hope to far exceed.”

“Well, I know it’s been less than a day – and I don’t really have much to compare you to – but I think you’re doing great.” Gwyn tapped a finger to his nose, and his eyes crinkled. Azriel lifted his chin and brushed his lips over her brow.

“That’s good. I have a number for you to call if you have any complaints.” He shifted slightly when his girlfriend yawned. “You think you can go back to sleep?”

“I dunno,” she murmured.

“Is there anything that has helped? In the past? Helped you get back to sleep?” Azriel absentmindedly rubbed a few strands of copper hair between his fingers. Gwyn gave a wry smile, but it faded quickly. “What?”

“Nesta would cuddle with me, when we lived together. She would hold onto me… it was like she would anchor me back to reality. To safety,” her voice was wistful, eyes distant. “But I couldn’t ask you to –“

“Do you want me to stay with you, Gwyn?” He traced a thumb in circles over her back. “If you’re comfortable with that, I will. Gladly. If you think it will help.” Azriel could only imagine that his own demons might also be subdued with her by his side.

Gwyn pushed away from him gently and he helped her move out of his lap. He watched her settle back onto the mattress, laying on her side facing him and pulling the blanked up toward her. She kept it lifted and lifted her eyes to him. His mouth curled up and he shimmied easily under the blanket to settle beside her.

“You tell me, Gwyn,” he whispered. Azriel didn’t want to presume how she would want him, instead seeking her guidance.

“Ummm… maybe stay on your back?” she replied. He put his hands behind his head and leaned back into the pillow, letting her move to where she wanted to be.

Gwyn sidled over to him and tentatively leaned up to place her head on his chest, tucking her hand under her chin. She wiggled a little bit, burrowing into her position.

“Comfy?” Azriel chuckled, receiving a contented ‘hmmm’ in return. He kept the arm closest to her tucked under his head, but he brought his other hand across him and grabbed the hand at her chin, weaving their fingers together. He brought their hands to his lips, pressing her knuckles against them. “No more fears, Berdara. I’m here. You’re safe.” He settled their joined hands over his abdomen, already feeling her heavy against him. Azriel stared into the dark, a warm blanket of contentment and strength settling over him. He had nightmares, too, things he also kept from nearly everyone. He would share those things with Gwyn, show her that she was not the only one with demons that attacked in dreams and that neither of them were alone. He had never felt so confident in the potential of a relationship, in the potential that he would be understood and accepted and loved. He already knew he would give those things to her - and more. With that newfound confidence he closed his eyes, her steady breathing lulling him to join her in peaceful, painless sleep.

[fisherrprince]

I saw your comic where ven gets down on his knees and calls Sora his liege. Do you have any more headcanons for that?

no shade anon this makes it sound like he’s proposing that’s not the intended readi—

anyways not really, most my thoughts r in the tags. Sometimes you get possessed and make an idea and then throw it on the table and walk away yanno? It’s not an au or anything. a phrase attacked my brain and clawed at it and screamed until I did something about it. Though I’m CONSTANTLY thinking about the wayfinders. I really badly want to know Daybreak-Scala-Twilight Town/Radiant Garden etc history?? Ansem the Wise is (was) apparently king?? Eraqus is of royal descent? Were we like legit feudal there for a while or what? Like HOW feudal, were we. Knights (graduated students) and apprenticeships and stuff fantasy feudal? I feel like Daybreak ran on oligarchy or whatever with like the master kind of in a monarch position. Did Scala do that? Like have a monarch? They seem to have a dark academia oligarchy… aristocracy… thing. Happening. Organization. This is not what you asked for

Anyways. yes. Actually the answer is yes I lied to you. the wayfinders are, barring yen sid who doesn’t seem like the Sharing Information At Will kind of guy, the last living remnants of a dead culture, and I think they’d try to introduce some of it to everyone else. I don’t think it’ll ever be revived the same just like daybreak is not scala is not twilight town but we have holidays (I think they would celebrate the equinoxes! I also think they have a spring holiday where it’s kind of just a celebration of life and how nature relies on other pieces of nature to live like bees need flowers and birds need bees and foxes need birds and worms need foxes and flowers need worms, I think they should have a lot of flower decorations. I also think they have a harvest holiday that marks the end of the year for them as fall is the LAST season and winter the first — like. yknow. out of darkness into a world of light this is how it goes you start in darkness. New Years is in November. This may coincide with the winter equinox holiday (FREE WEEK OF HOLIDAY TIME OFF) I am getting into my headcanons a little much) and important life milestones (obviously visiting a world is a big deal, but I think PICKING a world to keyblade-master-graduate in would be so HARD… not to MENTION picking a world or worlds to celebrate your marriage in!! They have to be symbolic and important to you and willing to host and — and you have to get gifts from each one and—) and history books saved from wreckage and recipes that are more useful because they use things you can gather and, importantly, bonds. I have always thought d-links were kind of funny! It’s exactly what Sora does, just, not, and not for summoning your friends all the time just keeping them in your heart literally? They were all taught how to do that. It must be or have been important. Lots of different kinds of bonds… mastery, acquaintanceship… etc. play the hit ttrpg Interstitial ANYWAYSlove is very important. Loyalty is important. Having love and loyalty as links would be like Yes we are part of each other’s lives now you can talk to me okay! we are here for each other! That’s what he means, ven I mean, he sees it like look I’ve known you for 16 years and in a place where people die a lot and travel a lot I would stick by you and die for you until you no longer need me and then further you understand this right and soras like (100% only seeing the very real implications of this and none of the background that led to this point because he was born in literally regular fantasy the phillippines but small or something) HUH! Meanwhile in the bg all of soras other friends are like yeah that sounds right I could do that but idk if thats appropriating anything or not,

well sorry for lying to you anon but also naw I don’t really have more headcanons about it. Ven’s like 1000 he gets to be a slightly terrifying reminder that all of these things are much, much older than you and you can’t possibly understand them not because you can’t know them but because you can’t Know them, you were not there and will not have the presence of mind to fully grasp them, and only three other live people in the whole universe will ever get close, because I say so

[bthump]

What kind parents do you think GriffGuts would be? Any headcanons?

hmm there are a lot of possible variables here so I'll just go with a modern AU version where they still have similar hangups and childhood experiences, give or take all the death and destruction. Bc idk how they’d end up parenting a kid together in any sort of canon-adjacent scenario lol.

So I think Griff would lowkey be a bit of a helicopter parent, partly bc he throws himself into the things he decides he wants with 100% enthusiasm and partly because he was orphaned or whatever as a kid so maybe he’d go slightly too far in the opposite direction. I also think he’d be more likely to make and enforce rules and structure than Guts. He’d help the kids with their homework, ask about school, insist on meeting their friends, check out the media they’re consuming and talk about it with them, join the PTA, etc.

But at the same time he has a very live and let live attiude in canon - do what you want is like the first thing he says. So I figure he’d also be the type of parent who is generally honest with their kid about the real world and potential consequences of their actions etc but doesn’t like, get overly controlling about what they watch or when they hang out with friends or whatever.

So like, a parent who wants to be involved in his kids’ lives but also knows when to step back and let them do their own thing, I guess? Maybe leaning one way or the other to a negative extent sometimes, because let’s be real here neither of them would be perfect parents lol, though I do think they’d both be pretty good.

Also he’d read like 50 parenting books throughout the adoption process as his way of coping with being nervous about sucking as a parent. Like maybe at first, especially because he had a relatively parent-free childhood, he’d try really hard to overcompensate by learning how to do everything and trying way too hard. And maybe for a while each new development stage would spark a resurgence. Like maybe the eldest child especially would see him as a bit overbearing. (though honestly I might be exaggerating that a bit because Griff needs more flaws as a parent for it to be interesting lol)

Well another possible flaw for him I guess could be being a distant parent, if this is like a Golden Age equivalent where he’s obsessed with pursuing his career for emotionally fucked up reasons. Staying late at work, missing stuff, trying hard to balance everything but still prioritizing his career over family, etc, til he has the requisite romcom/good berserk AU realization that love is all you need.

Guts would be a fun parent who lets the kids slack off and eat ice cream instead of doing homework and plays soccer with them in the yard (not that Griffith wouldn’t also join in). He’d be a good listener, and he’d talk to the kids like little adults, which the kids would love. I also think Guts is more likely to be a stay at home parent, partly because lbr Griffith would most likely have the better paying job, and partly because he’s good at taking care of people when he wants to be. He’d be great at making kids’ lunches, driving them to school, etc.

Contrary to like... his canon interactions with the kids lol, I would like to think that Guts would have some issues with worrying he’ll become Gambino. At the same time I could easily see him parroting some of Gambino’s bad parenting decisions that he’s never questioned, like not taking the kids’ safety into high enough consideration, bribing them with gifts if they’re upset, thinking that like... idk schoolyard fighting or bullying might help make them tougher, stuff like that. Like maybe he’d be really cautious about losing his temper at them or talking down to them, and he’d miss the more subtle negative things he learned growing up, that never really registered as bad parenting. I like to think he’d recognize it and change those things after a while though. Have a few nice wholesome family sitcom esque moments where he realizes he’s been fucking up.

Griff would be better with the younger kids and Guts better with the teenagers, I wanna say, tho idk if I can really justify that.

Also I think they’d both be great at comforting the kids and making them feel better. Griff would have a good strong steady and empathetic presence that makes them feel like he gets it and can fix everything, and Guts would be great at listening and taking them seriously and giving casual friendly advice that doesn’t make the kids feel pressured but also makes them feel like he gets it and they can fix everything. Maybe that’s my justification for their preferred age ranges actually.

lol idk, I’ve never really thought about this type of AU much so this is just what I’m feeling off the top of my head.

Anyway thanks for the ask! Sorry this took so long lol, my creativity has been at like kelvin zero recently for some reason.

[random-thought-depository]

A short vignette I wrote as part of a discussion on a forum I post on, with past/present tense and other grammar and formatting and math somewhat cleaned up from the rough version I posted there, and I’ve given it a title; it is a stand-alone piece and is not connected to any of my main SF settings; I took the liberty of re-using some relatively generic planet names and taking a little inspiration from John M. Dollan’s Arcbuilder Universe (if you’re interested you can find links to a little of John M. Dollan’s more recent writing on his Twitter):

----------

Advantages of Specialization

As I departed Cordillera, I passed a sign of the times. There was one of the big Hegemony freighters, on its leisurely upward fall toward minimum safe distance. It was much too far away for unaided eye visual contact, of course, but Mariposa's telescope gave me a fine view of it. And Cordillera space traffic control had supplied all the relevant details, of course; planned trajectory and burn timing, alpha-numeric designation - and a name; the Humbolt. Humbolts are whales that sing. Appropriate, I guess; it was big. Next to it little Mariposa would look - well, like a butterfly flitting around a whale, I guess. Mariposa is 50 meters long and masses 100 tons, 500 tons fueled up, with space for about an elephant's mass in cargo. Mariposa could fit inside Humbolt's fuel tank. Mariposa could fit inside the nozzle of Humbolt's fusion rocket.

Humbolt had finished its escape burn from Cordillera two days ago and it was just falling up now, not very fast. Its orbital rockets had burned at a leisurely .5 MSS, only a twentieth of a G, and hadn't burned very long. It hadn't even reached escape velocity from Cordillera's sun. Mariposa had burned hard, 3 G on the way up from Cordillera's surface, then 1.2 G the rest of the way to outbound flight velocity. Mariposa passed Humbolt quickly; the velocity differential was huge. Mariposa hadn't just reached escape velocity from the local sun, Mariposa had reached escape velocity from the galaxy! If I never burned her rocket or did a hyperspace jump again Mariposa would fall up very long and very far, into intergalactic space, where she'd fall up until her atoms evaporated by proton decay or the Big Rip tore her apart or she disintegrated from the slow sandpapering of the intergalactic medium, whatever came first. Of course, that wouldn't happen. I'd reach the local hyperlimit and jump to hyperspace in three months or so, then it'd be a few days in hyperspace, then another two months to get from the 82 Eridani hyperlimit to Hyannis. Funny; a few months to cross a few dozen AU, a few days in hyperspace to cross dozens of light years, a light year is more than 60,000 AU. Our-space distances aren't applicable to travel in hyperspace, of course, but I still think it's funny. Lots of people do.

As I passed Humbolt I studied telescopic images of it, studied its weaknesses, and thought maybe a whale wasn't the right analogy for it after all. Something from an ocean was, but not a whale. It was more like one of those deep sea fish that explode when you bring them to the surface, into the light.

Humbolt hadn't landed at San Ysidro Spaceport. It couldn't have. It wouldn't have survived trying. Humbolt is a pure creature of the void, that will never know the kiss of air or the touch of ground. It unloads and loads cargo at space stations, leaving transport to and from planetary surfaces to specialized local surface-orbit shuttles.

Humbolt is long thin pillar more than a kilometer long, with the fusion rocket at one end, a spherical fuel tank and the cargo and a small crew section spun for centrifugal gravity at the other end, and huge radiator wings between them. The long pillar is to protect the rest of the ship from the heat and radiation of the fusion drive. The fusion drive has a maximum rated acceleration at full cargo load of 2 MSS - one-fifth of 1 G. If Humbolt tried to accelerate much faster with a full cargo load, its engine would melt with waste heat. And if by some miracle it got itself up to 1 G that long pillar would snap and crumble. Put Humbolt on the surface of an Earthlike world, and it would disintegrate into a mass of rubble. If Humbolt tried to land like Mariposa, it would have the aerodynamics of a brick, and pieces of it would snap off from air friction, and its great rocket wouldn't have the thrust to control its own fall, and its own weight would break its back before it even touched the ground.

Maybe a whale isn't a bad analogy after all. The blue whale is the biggest animal to ever live on Earth; it's easier to be big in the water.

It's about efficiency, see. Humbolt should never experience a force of acceleration much above 2 MSS, so it's not built to take more than .5 G or so. That's a good safety margin, given the gentle acceleration its drive maxes out at. Building it fragile like this is efficient. Saves mass. Saves construction material. Saves fuel. Saves money.

It doesn't even really have a cargo hold. They just attach stuff to the front. Lots of different configurations are possible. On that trip Humbolt's front end was a greebled sphere of snapped-together rectangular cargo containers half a kilometer across, with a sort of tarp draped across it to protect it from high-velocity dust. There must have been hundreds of thousands of tons of cargo in that greebled sphere of cargo containers. It must have been a non-trivial fraction of Cordillera's yearly offworld trade. Cordillera isn't a big colony; it's a dusty dry world with only a few small seas, marginally habitable, only 160 million inhabitants. The sphere is the most efficient shape for a container, and the protective tarp is light, and Humbolt doesn't need to worry about streamlining. Trucks and trains and planes and boats and Mariposa are long and narrow because if you have to worry about streamlining you want to minimize frontal area. Humbolt doesn't have to worry about friction, so its cargo can be gathered into a sphere, which is efficient.

Free traders like me with ships that can take off and land like Mariposa are still a lifeline on Cordillera. Until a few years back Cordillera had just one orbiting space station to service big cargo ships like Humbolt. The Hegemony gave them another one a few years back though. Gave them another space station. A whole space station. Just dragged it in all the way from Alpha Centauri. The Hegemony must have plans for Cordillera.

Humbolt fell behind quickly. After they'd passed a few million kilometers behind they sent a text message telling me they were about to fire up the big fusion rocket. The burn timing was already registered with Cordillera space control who'd passed it on to me, of course; it was just standard procedure. The Hegemony were sticklers for this kind of thing. The contents of the message were very standard too; if it hadn't been composed by a computer it might as well have been. I wondered if it was AI composed or some sort of standardized form they had a human fill out. There'd be an audio warning and check-in too.

The audio warning was less standardized. A male voice, with an accent that might have been Tolimanish, saying, "This is the Kentauric Hegemony nationalized transport KDY-442-A74F, the Humbolt, calling free trader Mariposa. Hello, Miss, uh ... Miss Cherinise? Did I pronounce that right? Just as per standard procedure we're giving you a redundant warning that we're going to fire up the big atomic flashlight in 600 seconds. Please acknowledge."

Mariposa and Humbolt were almost seven light seconds apart at this point; far enough apart for light lag to noticeably influence conversation. I could have fired up the subspace radio, but Humbolt hadn't bothered, and I wasn't going to spend power on it if they weren't.

I sent back, "This is free trader Mariposa, I understand and acknowledge your message. I see we have the same destination. Does that make this a race? Seems to be going pretty well for me so far if so; I left after you and I'm already ahead of you."

I couldn't resist the dig, even though I knew it was lame and wasn't even an effective one, it just drew attention to my own weakness. I made it sound happy, like I was joking and saying something to have an excuse to talk to somebody for a few minutes.

The voice from the Humbolt said back, "You'd lose. Might want to make sure any un-hardened electronics are protected before we fire the big rocket, and maybe put your fuel tank between your crew and cargo compartments and us, just to be extra safe. You should be OK at that distance, but it's gonna be some real Manhattan Project hours out here when we fire. KDY-442-A74F over and out."

I said back, "Mariposa's been in battles and flare star megaflares and I've had to navigate more than one particularly nasty gas giant and brown dwarf magnetosphere. My ship's built tough, I'll be fine. Free trader Mariposa, over and out."

For some minutes Mariposa and Humbolt fell up away from Cordillera's sun, glowing only with the warmth of life support and radar and power reactor standby power and cargo environment maintenance. Then Humbolt's main rocket fired.

Mariposa can do 4 G at a steady burn, more in a sprint. The big limit is my own tolerance. Compared to Mariposa's muscular rocket, Humbolt's great rocket is weak in thrust. It imparts the gentlest of pushes. Humbolt's great radiator wings soon sizzle with heat at a fifth of a G. It ejects less than 200 kilograms of fuel per second, for a ship that masses hundreds of thousands of tons fueled and loaded. It's built for fuel efficiency, endurance, not thrust. The big rocket fires continuously for more than two weeks, compared to Mariposa's 22 hour 1.2 G burn.

And that efficiency implies its own sort of power. That 200 kilograms flies out of the rocket nozzle at more than two percent the speed of light. Humbolt's big rocket is a butterfly's sigh in terms of thrust, but in terms of energy it's a nuclear bomb that explodes continuously for more than two weeks. Ships like Humbolt have to maneuver near planets using weaker secondary orbital rockets because of the damage that storm of radiation and high-velocity charged particles might do. Alerts squawked nervously as Humbolt became a dark speck at the end a brilliant comet of charged particles and radiation thousands of kilometers long, the brightest thing in Mariposa's sky except for the local sun.

Mariposa uses not a lot of energy to eject a lot of fuel not very fast. This gives it the thrust to blast off the surface of a world. It's like one of those gasoline-powered SUVs you see on a lot of low-population worlds with big stretches of hostile terrain; go anywhere no matter how bad the road, power over rocks and through sucking mud puddles. But it's like an SUV; it guzzles fuel. And fuel-guzzling, in space, ultimately means slow. Humbolt uses terawatts of energy to eject a little fuel very fast, and this makes it fuel-efficient, and fuel-efficient in space ultimately means fast.

The man was right. If it's a race, Mariposa will lose, I'll lose. Humbolt will reach the hyperlimit of Cordillera's system in a little over a month, reach Hyannis in a little over two months, well ahead of me. And with ships like Humbolt the Hegemony can charge shipping prices half of the minimum I can charge to stay in business and come out with a 20% profit. And they can ship high-bulk goods that are just out of reach for me. Mariposa is a flying fuel tank with an engine and a crew quarter and a cargo compartment attached, stuffed into something shaped like a delta-winged aircraft. Humbolt gets almost three times my delta V while being less than half fuel by mass.

Free traders like me kept trade flowing through the age of fragmentation and economic contraction after the disintegration of the Terran Empire. Our tough versatile little blast off from anywhere land anywhere rockets were just what human space needed back then. But it's getting tough for somebody like me to stay in business nowadays.

[sylvies-chen]

Brettsey please “so not to be rude or anything but i’ve been coming to this cemetery at this time on this day every week for fucking years and i’ve always been alone up until now seriously what the hell” au

Ok anon I REALLY have to apologize because this request has been sitting in my inbox for probably a month or two now but I didn’t get the inspo to finish this until last night. That being said, I got this into a short little oneshot so I hope you enjoy!!

Tags: alternate universe, grief, mourning, light emotional hurt/comfort, meet cute

Word count: 2922

183 days.

It’s been 183 days since Sylvie last visited Julie. 183 days thinking about how things should have been different. How Julie was supposed to survive, how her and Scott and Amelia were supposed to be a family. How Sylvie was supposed to reconnect with her, to finally know the woman who had given Sylvie her own life’s blood.

She was supposed to have more time.

Instead, Sylvie ends up feeling like more of a stranger to Julie than ever. The last time she visited was the funeral, and that hadn’t done much for her in terms of closure. If anything, it made her feel more out of place. Random strangers came up to her, asking how she knew Julie. Sylvie can still remember the confused looks on their face as she’d told them Julie was her birth mother who had given her up at sixteen years old, and the awkward condolences that came stuttering out of their mouths afterwards. She’d felt too guilty eventually, and left early. Who the hell was she anyway, to be tainting everyone’s view of her birth mother at her own funeral?

She hasn’t been to visit Julie’s grave ever since. All Sylvie had done was stay with parents for a few days to clear her head. A few days turned into a few weeks, and then a few months. Today marks month six of her stay there. Her parents had told her they’d be happy to have her. They hadn’t been receptive to the idea of Sylvie meeting Julie in the first place, so they were more than willing to help her through the loss. The only condition was that she had to go to therapy and work through her grief, which Sylvie happily agreed to. But last week, her therapist suggested she visit Julie’s grave to get ‘true closure’, whatever that means. It’s a strange idea to Sylvie but nothing else seems to be working. Her boss had assured her that Fowlerton was much too peaceful (the polite way of calling the town boring, and rightfully so) and it would do just fine without its favourite paramedic for a few days. So, reluctantly, she accepted.

That’s why Sylvie’s now halfway through an hour-long drive to Chicago, all the way back to the cemetery. She buys hydrangeas at a tiny flower shop she passes by when she first enters Chicago territory. They’re Julie’s favourite. They were Julie’s favourite

Her fingers anxiously tap at the wheel when she finally pulls into the cemetery. It’s a dreary Sunday, grey clouds hovering in the sky bringing the prominent threat of rain. The graveyard is empty when she gets there, from the looks of it, except for one single person. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see a man around her age sitting on a bench near a grave, his eyes observing her curiously from over his shoulder. He’s not someone she knows-- she doesn’t really know many people here in Chicago after all-- but she ignores his lingering eyes. Shades of grey stick out against the field of green and wilted flowers are scattered across other tombstones. It feels like a ghost town, for lack of a better term. It’s gloomy and it looks like no one’s visited this place in a while. Even for a cemetery, the sight is a depressing one.

Sylvie slams her car door shut and takes a deep breath. Relax, she thinks. Just a quick drop by to see her, place the flowers, and then leave. You can get through this.

She makes a beeline towards Julie’s grave, less than 100 feet away, and stops dead in her tracks when she gets there. Her feet feel heavy in her pink rain boots, sticking out like a sore thumb against her black coat as she observes the tombstone.

Julie Walters

Loving wife and daughter

1973 - 2019

Sylvie doesn’t know how to feel reading those words. A whole life, one she only scratched the surface of, reduced to a mere four words and eight numbers. It’s underwhelming, and she doesn’t know whether to feel relieved that Julie’s entire being wasn’t etched onto stone or insulted that they could summarize her in so few words.

Maybe it’s for the best. What else would they put on there anyway: that she was a flawed human who left behind a child who she wasn’t ready to have, only to die before she could see her second daughter years later when she was finally ready for one? When she was finally ready to reconcile with her first born? Yeah, it was definitely for the best.

She places the bouquet of hydrangeas on the wet grass next to the tombstone and stands back. Man, this is harder than she thought. The words are there, racing in her head, but they don’t come out. Every time she wants to say something, it gets caught in the back of her throat.

Sylvie’s trying to pick from a list of infinite questions and countless ways to begin when she feels a chill on the back of her neck. At that moment, a voice comes from behind her. “Hi, are y--”

“Ah!” Sylvie shrieks, the voice startling her. She nearly jumps out of her skin as she turns around in shock, only to see a guy standing in front of her. It’s the same guy, she realizes, that had been staring at her earlier. Now, up close, she guesses that he can’t be all that much older that she is. He has blonde hair that’s short at the back and longer at the front, his eyes a soft shade of blue-green. His jacket and boots are a little worn but other than that, he looks completely normal. Except for the fact that he’s the only other person in this whole cemetery, and he just came up to her from behind without making a sound.

“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he assures her, his hands up in surrender.

“Oh, uh, it’s okay.” Sylvie lets out a big breath, shaking off the nerves from the jumpscare.

“Not to be rude or anything, but I just-- I’m usually the only one here,” he explains awkwardly.

“Are you a groundskeeper or something? I can leave if you guys need me to.”

“No no,” he laughs bashfully, scratching the back of his neck. “I work in construction, actually. But I’ve uh.. I’ve been coming here the same time, every Sunday for years now to visit my dad. Nobody’s ever here when I am, so I figured you must be new.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry for your loss,” she offers. So okay, he’s not such a creep after all. Actually, he’s kind of sweet. “He must have been a really great dad, for you to be visiting him every week after all these years.”

“He… had his moments,” the man explains delicately. “Honestly, he wasn’t the most affectionate guy. I guess I just don’t want to end up like him. Jaded and cruel.”

Sylvie nods understandingly, because she gets it. Her parents are loving and supportive, but she’s had some exes that have put her through the ringer. Her first real love, Harrison, had been manipulative and heartless. She’s always hoped that these awful guys wouldn’t change her for the worse either.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I’m saying all of this. I’ll get out of your hair,” he offers. “But uh, here. Take this.” The guy holds out a single rose, which Sylvie accepts.

Her eyebrows narrow in confusion at the gesture. “A rose?”

“Yeah, well, my dad has been getting a dozen roses a week from my family since I was 17, he won’t turn over in his grave if he gets 11 just this one time. I’m sure whoever you’re grieving could use it a lot more than he could.”

Sylvie’s confused expression softens into gratitude, a faint smile pulling at her lips. This guy, whoever he is, didn’t have to do this for her. It’s a sweet gesture. He really does seem nice. No catches, no mind games, just simple and kind. She hasn’t met a guy like that in a while, at least not one her age. “That’s actually really sweet, thank you.”

“Of course.”

“I’m Sylvie, by the way,” she introduces herself awkwardly. Everything about this situation is awkward, frankly. But she extends her free hand anyway. “Sylvie Brett.”

“Matt Casey. I wish it were under nicer circumstances, but it’s nice to meet you.” His smile is wide as he takes her hand and shakes it. It’s confusing, but it makes Sylvie smile all the same.

“You seem awfully cheerful for someone who’s in a graveyard,” she observes.

“Like I said: I’ve been doing this for a while. I’m sort of all talked out now,” Matt explains with a shrug.

“Right,” she nods. “I wish I could relate. Normally I’m the one who’s cheerful and talkative, but it’s hard with this sort of thing. Everything I want to say just doesn’t seem to come out. Sometimes, I think if I start talking…”

“You’ll never stop?” He guesses.

“Yeah.” How did he know?

“Well I can tell you from experience that you definitely do stop talking at one point. I got all talked out two years ago. I looked around one day and realized I was talking about types of screwdrivers to my dad’s grave with no one else around. Eventually, you’ll run out of topics like I did. And then new ones will come, and you’ll talk some more, and then you get quiet again and then you just… stop talking.”

“I hope so. I’m a big talker-- I mean seriously, I never shut up-- but I just… I don’t know where to start with this one,” she explains.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who are you visiting?”

“Julie Walters.” She points to the tombstone in front of them. “My birth mother.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.”

Sylvie’s heard those six little words before. She had to stomach every single insincere, fake utterance of sympathy when she was at the funeral. But for some reason, the way Matt says it to her makes her think he really means it. She’s not used to people meaning it when they offer their condolences. It’s strange. Then again, this whole interaction is strange. “It’s okay,” she brushes it off.

“It’s not. At least, it doesn’t have to be,” he soothes. Something about his voice is so horrifyingly comforting. It’s calm and low, and it feels like warm tea and honey in her ears. It’s enough to make her want to burst into tears right then and there .

Sylvie takes a deep breath and then, before she can stop herself, breaks the silence to ramble. “I love my parents, you know? They raised me, they fed me, they’re responsible for the person I’ve become. But I’d always wondered where I came from, why my birth parents gave me up for adoption. And when Julie sought me out, I panicked at first. I wasn’t ready to give up that fantasy in my head of who she was, to have all my questions answered. But now I’m standing here, visiting her grave for the first time in the six months since her funeral by recommendation of my stupid grief counselor, and I… I just can’t stop thinking of all the questions I was too scared to ask. And man, it sucks.”

Matt stands there and nods understandingly, his gaze unwavering even as she turns her eyes towards Julie’s tombstone.

“I’m sorry,” she continues, wiping tears from her cheek. “We just met, and I’m rambling, and--”

“No no, it’s good for you,” he assures her. “ And I don’t mind it, I-- I like hearing you talk.”

“Oh.” Sylvie looks around, unsure of what to say. This Matt Casey guy, whoever he is, hasn’t run for the hills by now which is strange to say the least. But weirdly, it’s comforting.

“You’re right, you know,” he continues, switching the subject. “It sucks. Life… life sucks.”

“Yeah, it does,” she agrees, letting out a small laugh. This makes Matt laugh a little, which makes Sylvie laugh even more, until they’re both smiling and giggling in a cemetery like a bunch of blushing lunatics. It’s quite possibly the weirdest thing Sylvie’s ever experienced and yet somehow, it’s exactly what she needed. A bright light in the vast sea of darkness.

“You’re smiling again, that’s a good sign.”

“It is,” she agrees. “Am I crazy for that? I mean, I’m smiling and laughing in a graveyard with somebody I just met. Isn’t that weird?”

“A little,” he admits with a shy laugh. “But you’re not crazy. Sometimes people need a little bit of weirdness in their lives.”

“I guess stranger things have happened,” Sylvie shrugs playfully.

“Yeah.” He flashes her another smile before turning his attention towards Julie’s grave and facing it with her. Sylvie stares at the marked stone. She fondly remembers the few memories she had with Julie, and the countless ones they never got around to. It’s unfortunate, really, but it feels more manageable with someone there. Even if it’s someone she barely knows. Matt stands with her for a moment, the peace and quiet taking over. It’s nice. Sylvie’s never had silence be so comforting; it’s always made her anxious and uncomfortable up until now. Matt sure is a puzzling guy in that sense. She sneaks a peek at him through the corner of her eye, this guy who’s supporting her even though they just met. He’s lost someone too, he could be going back to his father’s tombstone. Instead, he’s staying there with her. Sylvie decides at that moment that Matt Casey is an unfailingly kind, weirdly solid guy. And, admittedly, a little attractive. Ok, a lot attractive.

“Hey, and don’t worry,” she adds after a few minutes of silence, “about being like your father. We aren’t our parents. And you seem… good. That’s all you can ask for I guess, is to be one of the good ones.”

“Thanks,” he nods, his eyes filled with a bit of confusion and a bit of something else Sylvie can’t quite place. Wonder, almost.

Sylvie turns back to Julie’s grave, tracing over the words with her eyes. Suddenly, it doesn’t feel so scary. Sylvie’s still sad, and wounds take time to scar over, but it doesn’t feel like she’s bleeding out anymore. She sighs, and she can sense the weight on her shoulders blowing away into the wind.

Unfortunately, when the sorrow blows away with the wind, it brings in the rain.

“Oh god,” Matt groans, wincing while looking up just on time to catch a raindrop in his eye. He squints and turns to Sylvie, who’s standing there laughing. “I didn’t see this in the weather forecast for today.”

“Me neither,” she giggles. “Today’s full of unexpected things, I guess.”

“It is.” He gives her a shy smile, nodding in agreement.

“Do you mind the rain?” She asks, looking up at the gloomy sky with a smile on her face.

“No,” he replies gently.

“Me neither.”

They stand there, hoods pulled away from their heads, letting the rain wash over them. There’s no shelter in sight anyway. They talk for a while about Chicago, about their lives, their friends, things that make them happy. But then they fall into a comfortable silence, smiling peacefully in the rain. Sylvie only moves a few times to brush raindrops off of the bouquet of flowers she’d placed at Julie’s grave. She looks at it, the name and the date etched in stone, and she doesn’t feel sick anymore. No questions unanswered, no bitterness. Her loss feels manageable.

She’s okay. More than okay.

“Hey, this might sound a little crazy, and I know we just met,” Matt starts after a while, “but would you want to… go get dinner or something?”

“What, like a date?” She snorts at her own joke, the idea being very nice in theory but impossible. It’s seriously impossible that this guy is actually asking her out, right?

“Er, yeah,” he nods. “Like a date.”

Oh. Okay, so he was asking her out. This is unfamiliar territory for Sylvie. She’s been asked out before, of course, by the small-town idiots in Fowlerton. But by an admittedly very good-looking stranger, under these circumstances no less? It’s a bit of a bizarre situation. That’s the crux of it, though. Matt Casey, whoever he is under all these sweet, charming layers, doesn’t feel like a stranger. Somehow, through one chance encounter, it feels like catching up with an old friend.

When she considers the facts, she’s had fun today. Every interaction they’ve had has come with such ease, and from a place of goodness and light. Yeah, maybe it’ll go absolutely nowhere. But one date in a public place won’t hurt her. She’s in Chicago for the rest of the weekend anyway. If anything, going out with someone like Matt Casey would do her a lot of good. And she hadn’t realized it until now but god, she really really wants to. So she does.

“I’d like that,” she finally replies while brushing rain off of her coat.

“Yeah?” He asks to make sure, his face lighting up with hope and slight excitement. Sylvie finds it adorable.

“Yeah,” she assures him.

He nods and grins excitedly as he leans in closer, and Sylvie feels the happiest she’s felt in a long time when he finally replies. “Me too.”

[florenceandthemachine]

@hearteyesforbuck asked:

I have been dying for a meet-cute au where Eddie takes Chris to the gym once a week and they box a little together before Eddie spars; usually Chris sits by the ring and reads but one day Eddie finds him laying on a bench, lifting an empty bar while this really cute blond guy spots him and gives him encouragement ....

guess who’s asks are still broken?

Tumblr keeps adding the “Read More” into the ask box, which breaks the entire post when I try to post it. Why is it happening? No idea, but if anyone knows how to fix it, please let me know, this is getting really old.

anyway, fun fact that I just learned about myself—if you want me to dedicate 100% of my brainpower to writing 4.5k of something in one sitting, you just throw in Christopher Diaz.

Eddie liked to think of himself as some kind of a “do it yourself” kind of dad.

Most of the time, that was a good thing.

Kitchen faucet broke? No worries, Eddie has some plumbers tape and three different YouTube videos telling him how to fix it.

Car wouldn’t start? Not a problem, Eddie bought the full repair manual offline and knows his way around a wrench.

Christopher needed forty gluten free, egg free, dairy free cupcakes for class tomorrow? Eddie was perfectly capable of... admitting when he was outmatched by a stand mixer and calling thirteen local bakeries to see if they delivered, because his car still wasn’t starting.

Point is, if there was a way he could work on something, Eddie would at least try it—and needless to say, that got a little complicated where Christopher was involved.

Eddie still wanted to do a lot of it on his own. Chris was his kid, and no one else's, and he didn’t even like being away from him while Chris was at school—he wasn’t sure if that was guilt stemming from leaving Chris as a kid, or guilt about introducing Shannon back into his life only to have her wind up dead, or guilt about... well, pick-a-thing, but he was pretty damn sensitive about what he perceived he could do to help his kid.

Which is why, when Chris’ physical therapist gave Eddie some suggestions about how Chris could work on strength training at home, Eddie dove completely into the deep end, head first, no floaties.

Working on Chris’ fine motor skills had been cake. Writing, drawing, arts and crafts, even playing video games, all helped improve Chris’ hand eye coordination (and if Eddie ran out of room on the fridge for Chris’ masterpieces and started framing them instead, well, that was his own business, no matter how nosy the busybodies at Michael’s got).

Working on his gross motor skills, though, that was another story. They could go on walks, sure, and they did every day. Eddie could hook up the trail-a-bike to his own once or twice a week so Chris could ride along with him, without worrying about his balance, but those were both leg heavy activities—and while it was great that Chris was building his core strength and leg strength, Eddie wasn’t about to just strap a wrist weight to Chris’ arms and call it a ‘well rounded workout’.

Short of more physical therapy, Eddie was at a loss as to what to do—so when Google Maps pushed him off the 101 to avoid a wreck on his way home from work and he got caught by a stop light right next to "Ricky’s Boxing Gym”, Eddie felt like his prayers had been answered.

Over the next few months, they had set up a pretty good routine. Eddie would bring Chris to the gym, they would hop into one of the many rings, and he and his son would get a half hour of quality time, three times a week. Eddie had his own set of boxing mitts, and Chris thought that spending a half hour trying to punch his dad’s hand was the most fun a kid could have after school. Chris would tire himself out and sit on the bench, drawing or reading for a while more, while Eddie would actually spar with one of the staff members, get his own workout in, and then they’d go home.

Nine times out of ten, they’d stop for ice cream or pizza, and completely undo any of the workout they had actually done, but Eddie thought that was a small price to pay for the whoop of joy Chris let out when he actually managed to hit Eddie’s glove dead center.

Eddie’s sparring partner of choice (well, after Chris) was Tommy Kinard. He was nice enough, and kept Eddie on his toes, giving him plenty of time to look over to Chris to make sure he was safe, and happy, and occupied, and (“Dad, I’m fine! Go punch someone!”) okay, maybe he was helicoptering a little bit. He hadn’t really thought it was a problem until Kinard went on paternity leave, leaving him in the capable, and brutal, hands of Boscoe.

Boscoe was a beast. He didn’t know her first name—didn’t know if she had a first name—but what she lacked in pleasantries she more than made up with strength. If Eddie was being honest, though, he kind of loved it; even after the first day they sparred together, when he wound up limping into the 118, proudly admitting to Hen that he had been beat up by a girl.

The thing was, Boscoe was intense, and while that was a good thing, it gave him less of a chance to helicopter over Chris.

Which, okay, maybe that was a good thing too. Whatever.

He knew the gym pretty well by that point, and knew the people who worked there, knew he could trust Chris with any of them—which is why when he looked up after dodging a jab from Boscoe, and saw Chris absent from his bench, he only panicked a little bit.

When he managed to take a wider look around the gym and saw a familiar pair of shoes laying down on a workout bench, the rest of him obscured by a bigger, bulkier body, that panic went from 0-60 real quick.

“Hey!”

He only barely managed to dodge a glancing blow from Boscoe as he ducked beneath the ropes, grabbing a towel to blot at his face as he hopped down. His voice was little more than a quick bark through the gym as he stepped around another group of machines, his frantic pace slowing a little as he got into earshot.

“... yeah, come on buddy, you can do it! Come on, give me one more rep! You got this little man!”

Fuck, had this stranger actually given Chris a set of weights?

His temper was white hot by the time he finally got around the front of the machine, opening his mouth to shout, to get a manager, to do something, but the words died in his throat as he took in the scene before him.

Because Chris was definitely on the bench, and he definitely had his hands on the bar—the bar that was completely devoid of weights, Eddie noticed, the same bar that had two much larger, stronger hands attached to them. Hands that were probably doing all the actual work of lifting the bar, because Chris was laying back, unable to speak, because he was giggling so hard.

The bar landed back on the rack with a dull thunk as Chris pulled his hands back, sticking them straight up in the air triumphantly as he sat up. The man behind the bar gave a big show of leaning against the frame of the bench dramatically, fanning himself, giving Eddie a full view of an employee shirt, name badge, and the gym logo stitched across the polo he was wearing.

Whelp, that was almost very embarrassing for him.

“Holy cow, that was such a good job! Man, you have got to be the strongest kid I’ve ever met in my life!”

“Dad, did you see me? Buck says I’m super strong!”

Eddie had to admit, he was a little thrown by whatever was happening here, but Chris was obviously having a good time, and he felt the white hot anger dissipate into something a little less angry and a little more embarrassed.

“That was some pretty impressive work, buddy! Have you been holding out on me?” Eddie dipped down and tossed a few playful jabs at Chris, selfish only because he wanted to prolong the joy his son was obviously feeling, but it was all worth it as he was handsomely rewarded when Chris started giggling again.

The man—Buck, Eddie gathered—laughed, drawing Eddie’s attention upward, and for a moment, his brain short circuited, because there was no way on earth a gym rat could be this... pretty.

Because damn. Buck was pretty.

Pretty enough that Eddie was easily distracted, waxing poetic (internally, thankfully) about beefy arms and a plush lip that he didn’t notice what was happening until Buck stuck a hand out, smiling, and Eddie could only guess what was going on. He reached out and took the hand, his own smile hitching as Buck’s face slipped into confusion.

“Uhh—”

“...I was asking if you wanted me to take your towel for you and get you a fresh one.”

Oh. Right. Towel.

Eddie’s face burned as he pulled the towel off his shoulder, handing it over, giving a too-tight laugh as he nodded his head. “Yes! If you could get me a new towel so I could strangle myself in embarrassment, that would be great.”

Well, at the very least, that got Buck to laugh again—death would be worth it if that was the last sound he heard. “Sorry I kind of stole your kid. He was wandering in between the machines, and it’s my first week off of the evening shift, so I just wanted to make sure he didn’t get hurt—but then he started asking about all the weights and pulleys and stuff, you have a really smart kid!”

Total Gym Hottie (Buck, his mind corrected. If he was going to drool over someone the least he could do was use their name) was complimenting his kid now, and Eddie was so star struck he was actually proud to say he didn’t stumble when Buck nudged his shoulder, head jerking back to the ring he had abandoned.

"...anyway, I think strangulation is the least of your worries, if I know that look, Boscoe has an entirely different death planned for you if you don’t get back in the ring. Go on, I’ll help little man here wheel you out on a gurney when she’s done with you.”

Buck sounded way too positive about that, and it was all Eddie could do to groan and walk back to the ring, tail between his legs.

Sure enough, even after he had the next day off, he was still sore when he walked into the 118 for his next shift.

--

Buck became easily, seamlessly, a part of their routine, in a way that probably deserved a little more insight on Eddie’s part, but insight was for suckers. At least two days out of the week, their schedules aligned—Eddie and Chris still worked on their exercises, but now it included Buck giving a dramatic play by play on the sidelines, talking up Chris like an announcer, or just otherwise causing shenanigans.

It was worth it, easily, because while Chris was certainly never a negative kid, Eddie had never seen him in brighter spirits. And Buck... well, anyone that could find a way to help out his son in a way that Chris clearly enjoyed earned an instant gold star in Eddie’s book. The fact that he was easy on the eyes wasn’t a bad thing, either.

“Diaz, I swear to God—”

Eddie only barely ducked under Boscoe’s extended hand, forcibly rooting himself back in the moment, looking guiltily back to her instead of watching Buck and Chris.

“—can you pay attention for like three minutes so I can hit you without feeling bad about it?”

Eddie tried, he really did, but it was hard. A few weeks had gone by since their initial meeting, and Eddie had gone from “wow he’s pretty” to “full high school crush” in no time flat. It wasn’t his fault, though—because what sealed the deal wasn’t the moment Buck had switched to tank tops over polos, or how happy Eddie was to spend time staring at Buck’s magnificent ass (and it was really, really magnificent, let the record show), it was how he interacted with Chris that sent him over the edge.

Buck was good with Chris, but somehow that was the understatement of the year. He was kind, and he was bubbly, and he was just in sync in a way that Eddie wasn’t even sure he had reached, and Chris was his son. Buck was patient in a way that seemed effortless, easily slowing himself down or changing what he was doing when he noticed Chris struggling, wether it was in going over a math problem while Eddie got the crap beat out of him or just showing him how some of the different machines worked.

Hell, right now, Eddie had his hands securely around Chris’ hips as he lifted the other male to a chin-up bar, helping Chris count out the pull-up’s he was doing—and while all Eddie could hear was Chris’ laughter, all he could see were the thick cords of muscle attached to Buck’s arms, lifting Chris like he weighed nothing.

Eddie wondered, not for the first time, if Buck could lift him like that.

Like she was a horrible mind reading pervert, Boscoe smacked him with an open hand—not hard enough to hurt, but not soft enough that he was going to ignore it.

“Diaz, this will be our last session together. Kinard is back next week—” Another punch, a quick jab that Eddie blocked with his forearms. “—so the least you could do is focus on me and not the apple of your eye over there.”

“Buck isn’t the apple of my—fuck—my eye, grow up.” Eddie huffed as he threw out a punch of his own, his hand knocked away violently, only barely dodging the sharp hook that Boscoe sent to him.

“God, I was talking about your kid, Diaz. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Oh.

Ignoring how red his face was, Eddie grumbled and threw another quick jab, though he missed completely as Boscoe stepped back, a grin on her face, and Eddie knew better than to trust that look. The last time he trusted that look, he had been talked into fighting bare-handed, and he still wasn’t sure his knuckles would ever really work again.

“You know, Kinard is supposed to take you back as a client, but I bet if you asked nice enough...”

Oh no.

“Hey, Buck!”

Oh no. Eddie looked up in horror as Buck easily lifted Christopher onto his shoulders—god, so much muscle—and jogged over, with the nerve to not even be out of breath when he smiled up to the pair in the ring. Eddie bit his tongue and leaned over to high five his kid, fully prepared to deal with whatever terrible thing was about to come his way.

“Kinard was supposed to take Diaz here back after he’s off leave next week, but I know he wanted to ease back into things after being away from the gym for a few months. You think you could spar with him in the interim?”

Oh, no, didn’t seem to cover it anymore. Eddie was having a hard enough time focusing on the task at hand when Buck was in the same building, he would be signing his own death certificate if he had to stare Buck in the face, and then try to hit said face. He hadn’t even seen Buck break a sweat before—he didn’t know if his little bisexual heart could take it.

He was somehow both relieved and regretful when Buck shook his head, looking plenty apologetic as he pulled Chris up and off of his shoulders, making sure that he was steady on his feet before he leaned up against the ropes. “Sorry, Eddie. I don’t really box, and besides, I think Chris and I are making real progress while you get your butt kicked. Show him the guns, Chris!” Buck said, and Chris immediately started some classic strong-man poses, Buck posing dramatically behind him, and Eddie felt his heart melt for two entirely different reasons.

Buck turned around mid pose as the door chime went off, giving Eddie ample time to count out the individual strands of muscle fiber in the moment before Buck relaxed, turning with a smile back to the gang in the ring. “Lena, that's my next client. Chris, Eddie, I’ll see you both next week, yeah?” He said with a grin before he fist bumped Chris and waved to Eddie, slipping back into Professional Buck mode. Eddie waved back, brows almost in his hairline as he looked back to Boscoe, who was scowling at him.

“So—”

“No, Diaz.”

“Wait, why not? Buck gets to call you Lena!”

“Beat me in the ring as often as Buck does and I’ll consider it.”

Eddie had his mouth open to retort when Chris cut him off, pushing his glasses up on his nose as he tilted his head. “Can I call you Lena?”

She didn’t even hesitate a moment, nodding her head seriously. “You can absolutely call me Lena, squirt.”

Chris promptly stuck his tongue out at his dad, and Eddie reacted in sort, falling to the floor of the ring as he grabbed at his chest. “The nerve! Betrayed by my own child, my own flesh and blood!”

Chris looked thoroughly unimpressed, sitting back on the bench as he started to pack up his schoolwork. “Lena, can you tell my dad to stop being such a drama queen?”

It wasn’t until they were both in the car, that Eddie, thoroughly beaten down by his son, his trainer, and his own brain for providing a play by play of Buck that day while he was in the locker room shower stall, really thought about what Buck said.

He didn’t box. Which was strange enough in a boxing gym, but whatever, there were plenty of machines that Buck could be working on instead.

But them Boscoe (god, he couldn’t even call her Lena in his head, it felt like she would figure it out and beat him to death) basically admitted that Buck regularly whooped her behind the ropes

If Buck wasn’t boxing in a boxing gym, what the hell was he doing?

--

As it turned out, Eddie didn’t have to wait long to figure it out. Barely a week had passed before Eddie had received a call from Chim, all but begging Eddie to switch shifts so he could take the girl he had been seeing out on a proper date. The switch was a no brainer—Maddie seemed like a great girl, and as much shit as he gave Chim for... well, being Chim, he obviously wanted to see his teammate happy, especially when the only thing he would have to change was a gym day from a Monday to a Sunday.

If he had known that this would be the day that sealed his fate, he probably would have reconsidered the switch all together.

The gym was packed—which probably wasn’t surprising for a weekend day, but damn, Eddie had been glad he booked a ring with Kinard ahead of time. It was nice to see a familiar face in the gym anyway, one that wasn’t trying to beat the crap out of him in the ring, and once Kinard joined up with them, it was easy to shoot the shit. Eddie congratulated him on his step into fatherhood, ruffling Chris’ hair as he did—not that Chris noticed, busy scanning through the machines for a familiar blond head.

Not that Eddie could judge, when he was doing the same thing.

“Hey, I’m gonna toss my stuff in a locker. See you out here in a sec?”

“Yeah, sounds good! Buck and Boscoe are almost done in their ring, we have it next.”

Eddie was halfway to the locker room before what Kinard had said clicked in his brain, and he immediately did a 180, making a beeline to the rings set up on the far side of the gym, easily spotting the pair when he knew what to look for.

It was no wonder that neither he nor Chris had recognized Buck when they walked in—he was literally drenched in sweat, his usually fluffy blonde hair dark and slicked to his forehead, scowling around his mouth guard as he danced around Boscoe.

Boscoe, who Eddie had never seen so worked up. Damn, she really hadn’t even had to try during his matches. Wasn’t that a blow to the ego.

No, Buck definitely wasn’t a boxer, because this was a dance. Every move he made, he made with his entire body, his energy flowing through each form, moving easily and gracefully in a way that shouldn’t have been possible with such an incredible amount of force and flat out violence. He almost felt dazed as he followed Buck’s movements, but in the best possible way, his eyes snapping back and forth as he tried to trace where one hit ended and the next began.

“Wow.”

Eddie was glad that Chris said it, because he still couldn’t find the muscles needed to pick his jaw up off the floor. He didn’t know if Chris had followed him over to the ring or if his Buck-radar was just that good, but for the time being, Eddie was more than thankful for the minute distraction as he ruffled his kids hair again.

Boscue was moving more desperately as the match continued, launching into a series of quick jabs, but even Eddie could see where that was her downfall. Buck knocked her arm back with her last punch and sent a kick straight for her shoulder, but then he twisted his entire body off of the mat and his other leg was in the air too, and Eddie instinctively sucked in a breath as Buck locked her neck between his thighs. They both came crashing down to the mat, struggling impressively until Boscoe slapped Buck’s thigh twice, and then—

—and then Buck was all smiles again, beaming as he released her and took a knee on the ring, helping her back into a sitting position, spitting out his mouth guard with an excited moment of praise for her technique.

Eddie could not compute. This was his downfall. Eddie is dead, long live Eddie.

“Holy cow, Buck! That was amazing! You’re like... you’re like a ninja crime fighting super hero!”

Well, that was one way to put it.

Buck’s head whipped around at Chris’ excited outburst, lighting up when he spotted Eddie and Chris near the bench, eagerly scooting forward into a sitting position closer to the ropes.

“Thanks, little man! That was some mixed martial arts, it’s super fun. I’ve been teaching Lena for a few years, she’s getting pretty good!”

Buck’s grin slid into something a little more proud and pleased as he looked to Eddie, and Eddie felt every muscle in his body tighten as Buck’s gaze burned through him.

“What did you think of that leg lock, Eddie? Total knock out, right?”

Oh fuck, was Buck flirting with him now? That had to have been flirty, right? Come on, Brain, do something.

“... legs.”

“...my legs?”

“Buck, your... your legs.”

Buck’s smile looked a little more pinched as Eddie groaned, shaking his head. “Okay, I, I’m sorry, but I have to ask you this or I will completely die. Can I take you out to dinner sometime? I know a great place off the strip, you’ll love it, my treat.”

The look on Buck’s face was skeptical, at best, but at least he wasn’t shutting him down, giving Eddie the benefit of the doubt (and giving him a moment to get his brain back online). “Because of my legs?”

“No. Well, okay, you have amazing legs. And arms, though, and like... a stupidly handsome face, and I would be blind not to notice those things—” shit, Eddie probably sounded like such a shallow asshole right now. “—but I’m asking because you’re really smart. And you’re kind, so kind to Chris too, and you’re patient, and... Buck, you’re really really sweet. And I would love to take you out for a dinner date the moment you can look past my apparent inability to form a single coherent thought.”

After a moment that felt much longer than the three seconds it was, Buck sighed and leaned past Eddie, looking critically to Chris. He slid down to his stomach, squinting as he dropped down to eye level with the boy. “What do you think, Chris? Should I give your dad a shot?”

Well, at the very least, Buck was asking the one person that Eddie knew he always had in his corner; and sure enough, Chris delivered. “I think so. Dad really likes you.”

That’s his boy.

“Last week he spent my whole entire physical therapy appointment telling Dr. Wilson how much help you gave me and how nice you were and how much he appreciated it. It got kinda annoying.”

...well damn, Eddie wasn’t expecting to be called out by his own kid like that, but if the suddenly soft look Buck was giving him was any indication, it might have been the necessary push to get him to understand how serious Eddie was.

Eddie tried to keep his excitement tamped down when Buck nodded, sitting back up. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll make you a deal. Only because you managed to ask me out before I could ask you.”

Wait, Buck wanted to ask him out anyway?

“If you can land three hits on me in three minutes—should be easy after spending a weeks with Boscoe—then you can pick the time, the place, and I’ll even talk Lena in to letting you call her Lena. But if you don’t...” Buck reached through the ropes to help Eddie up, tossing him a wrap for his hands as he did. “... then I get to pick the time, the place, and you start training with me in MMA instead of going back to boring old boxing.”

Eddie blinked at him in abject horror as Buck dipped his voice low, seeing with terrible clarity exactly where Boscoe had learned her terrifying grin.

“That way you can see my leg choke up close and personal. Deal?”

The stakes were too high, and Eddie couldn’t say no.

He was screwed.

He was elated.

But fuck, he was screwed.

(Three minutes later, Buck asked if Eddie was free on Friday at seven, promised to pick somewhere nice, and gave him a searing kiss before he disappeared into the staff locker room. Eddie, on the other hand, needed a spatula to peel himself off of the floor of the ring.

He had never been so happy that he could barely move in his life.)

[kinetic-elaboration]

September 17: 3x07 Day of the Dove

I am incredibly discombobulated today—usual weekend nocturnal shenanigans I guess! Anyway it’s somehow midnight. Gonna try to write up these note on the Classic episode The Day of the Dove in as efficient a manner as possible.

Hmm, a planet with wavy pink Fraggle plants. I like it already.

But where is Spock? Very suspicious.

I really appreciate Kirk giving a little speech to set up the overall question/issue for us. (I know he does this all the time with the Captain’s logs but this is out loud and so… more obviously expository.)

Oh no, it’s our old friends…the Klingons.

I will admit that this ONE TIME, the Klingon is being reasonable. Like, it is reasonable to think that Kirk and the Enterprise attacked his ship, given that his hip WAS attacked, and who else would it be?

Three years of peace between the Klingons and the Federation? That is inclusive of the show so all this tension must technically be “peace” and also implies there was something more like a direct war going on, like, right before Kirk got the captaincy.

Zoolander voice: What is this, a colony of the INVISIBLE?

“We have no devil. But we understand the habits of yours.”

No takers? No takers on the torture? No volunteers to be mercilessly tortured by the Klingons?

Star Trek Beyond could have had Kirk and Chekov bond over being brothers! I mean, to other people.

They’ll kill 100 hostages at the first sign of treachery. He does know there are only 400-some people on the ship right? Maybe you should pace yourself, Kang.

Kirk’s so badass he needs MULTIPLE guns trained on him just to use the phone.

Oh-ho secret message to Spock. Which version of the iPhone will be capable of doing THAT?

The Klingons are “suspended in transit” is an awfully nice way of saying they’re just dematerialized atoms in space. Philosophy major and/or Bones nightmare fuel.

How did Kang not see this coming, by the way? Like, he just says “I’m taking your ship now, me and my 6 men versus your 400-some men, and I’ll do this by simply declaring it to be so. Now let’s beam up to your ship, where I’ll be greatly outnumbered, and there are armed security guards all around me.” Guess he’s been reading The Secret!

WIFE AND SCIENCE OFFICER

Aka the most important part of this whole episode.

Kirk’s face is very ?????? You can have both????

It’s legitimately not even important for her to be the science officer tbqh. Like that is so gratuitous. That’s just in there to drive me insane.

"We're prisoners, somehow, after I demanded to come on the ship, assuming they'd just give it to me without any kind of fight. How DID this happen?”

Federation death camps lol—someone’s been watching Fox News.

I do kind of wonder… is this an actual rumor that goes around the Klingon homeworld or is it something that the alien entity put in her head specifically to make her angrier right now? I mean it really could be either.

I also appreciate this episode for being pretty much the only one to actually attempt to give the Klingons a reason for being as they are. The Romulans… maybe aren’t well-described, but they do have a sort of regalness to them, appropriate for being related to Vulcans, and you can kind of imagine that they are the way they are because they’re Vulcans without the intense self-control. Plus they’re literally only in 2 TOS eps and in the second, the Federation are the aggressors. But the Klingons show up a half-dozen times only to be depicted each time as just like Cartoonishly Bad, aggressive, violent, and selfish for basically no reason. And I mean, some people really are!! But TOS has so much nuance in other places, that it always seemed a little disappointing to me that the Klingons are really just like ‘well we’re just bad and we hate everyone and we really like killing I guess.” At least in this ep there’s a little more added to that: that there is poverty on their world, that they feel aggrieved, that they feel unprotected, that taking and conquering is how they look after themselves…

I think that’s later in the episode though.

He’s detaining them in the LOUNGE lol. With their favorite dishes available to them to eat. Absolutely barbarous conditions.

I can’t believe Chekov is hanging in the elevator with the cool kids. Like, one of these things really isn’t like the others.

Kang is officially sure of himself for someone currently imprisoned in the lounge, that most fearsome of Federation death camps.

Hmm, could the glittery light alien have taken over??

You know what, that's a lot of tasks for Johnson to do all by himself: search the whole ship, fix the engines, and free 400 people.

Sulu would love this: everyone gets a sword!!

“Bridge. I gotta show this to Sulu immediately.”

Klingons have maintained a dueling tradition. That’s interesting. Finally some characterization going on.

Spock is really living up to his logical nature today. Everyone else has gone off the emotional deep end and he’s like “have you considered this completely rational explanation that accounts for the actual, observed facts??”

Whoops Chekov is actually an only child. Scratch that previous Beyond headcanon. (Interesting that his dead brother does really resemble Sam though—killed on a research colony??)

Love that Sulu knows that about him though.

Oh, that’s a pretty schematic picture of the Enterprise. I want that on a t-shirt.

Lol the pan out to the armory, now filled with… swords!!

Do ALL of these men have a fetish for swords? Sulu and fencing, Spock displaying swords in his quarters, and Kirk in his San Francisco apartment, and Scotty salivating over this Scottish blade.

“Klingon units.”

Finally Sulu gets his sword! It’s what he deserves.

Love that the shiny light alien also has a fetish for swords.

Oh no, it’s our old adversary, an alien life force.

What is the alien’s purpose? Um, I’m pretty sure its purpose is to start shit.

“An appropriate choice of terms, Captain.” I don’t even remember what this is referring to but I think it’s pretty clear that Spock is enjoying himself during a crisis again.

Bones, being so dramatic. Were there atrocities? He’s talking about the Klingons as if they were literally hacking off limbs—it’s a few stab wounds here and there, chill.

Oooh, time to behave like military men—strong words. (But I thought it wasn’t the military?? @ S**** P****) (This might not even be my best argument, given the context of this episode, but I’m sticking with it.)

This is like a giant game of capture the flag.

AU that’s just about the Enterprise crew playing capture the flag with the Klingons.

Sulu in the background standing guard with his sword

Damn, turning on Spock with the slurs now!!

Spock was absolutely ready to kill him. Like he would 100% have taken him out with a blow to the head. And he’d been doing such a good job of not feeling the alien’s effects so far! Admittedly, that was a strong provocation though.

Honestly, I really like this scene. It’s uncomfortable and tense and you can really see how the alien is bringing out the worst possible influences of their respective races. And I liked how Spock was definitely full on pre-Reform Vulcan for a minute there. It was a more effective portrayal of what that might have looked like than All Our Yesterdays tbqh.

A result of… stress?

Kirk got himself out of it first. He’s so strong. He knows himself so well, he cannot be outsmarted by any alien.

“We’ve been taught to think in terms other than war.”

“The alien brings out the worst of us—patriotic drumbeating…even race hatred.”

He’s so sad; he can’t imagine thinking like that about Spock :(

Sulu in a Jeffries tube! A man of many talents. It’s okay bb, take credit for turning on the lights.

The alien must have been getting bored. The Klingons must have been doing too well, and the playing field needs to be leveled for maximum shit-stirring.

“Let’s find that alien.” That’s how I ALWAYS feel.

Oh, Kang, you’re so close—“What power supports our battle but thwarts our victory.” So, so close to getting it.

ALIEN DETECTED.

Spock takes his sword, of course.

“Jim.” Obligatory Jim moments hit differently when they’re not so obligatory.

“Jim—stop hitting my protégé. And put that sword down.”

Kirk looks so sad, picking Chekov up to carry him bridal style.

Also in addition to ‘race hatred’ I think we need to add ‘rape-y tendances’ to the bad stuff that the alien is inspiring here.

“A brief surge of racial bigotry. Most distasteful.” Spock winning for understatement of the year.

They're assuming the alien is trying to test out their relative powers but I think it just wants entertainment. I mean, doesn’t it look like a naughty little thing?

Mara’s outfit is… little shorts? Interesting. Usually not my style but she makes it work.

Spock doesn’t even look at Johnson as he falls lol. Another one bites the dust.

“It exists on the hate of others.”

What does this remind me of? Oh, the Vast of Night and the whole “aliens made us do every bad thing ever” conspiracy theory. At least this one makes more sense, in part because it is not quite so overwhelmingly broad!

All hostile attitudes must be eliminated, he says, and there's Mara right behind Kirk giving him a death stare lol.

Kang is so obviously posing. Google Earth, always taking pictures.

Only a few minutes before drifting forever in space becomes inevitable? Good thing Kirk works well under pressure.

“Well… do whatever you can, Scotty. You know the drill.” Doesn’t even bother giving real directions anymore. We’ve been in this scenario before.

“So we drift in space, with only hatred and bloodshed aboard.”

And the 392 people below just get to…live in Enterprise prison, I guess.

Star date: Armageddon. So dramatic!

I’m not even making that up; that’s an actual quote. Can you imagine being an Admiral listening to this?

“Stop the war now.” An actual line, really aired on television.

Spock wants to threaten the wife lol. That's the old pre-Reform Vulcan seeping through. Surak who?

Damn, Kang is cold. “Eh, she gets the concept of being killed in battle.” They’re gonna need marriage counseling after this.

“There is another way. Mutual trust and help.” Yes that’s my hero!!

“No one can guarantee the actions of another.” Can’t remember the context of this entirely anymore, but great line.

The entity is loving this—multi-person choreographed sword fight!!

"Those who hate and fight must stop themselves. otherwise it is not stopped.” Another baller line. Spock has a lot of deep thoughts today. And so does Kirk. And Kang.

Kirk tries to reason with the alien. Nice try.

“Shoo. Shoo, alien. Off the ship, go away.”

Omg that last moment—Kang slapping Kirk’s back way too hard, Spock’s completely ridiculous wide-eyed expression when he does, like some sort of combo of amusement and confusion, and then Sulu just passing on by in the background….

Then the alien just yeets itself into space. And that’s the end!

Always feels weird when there’s no wrap up on the bridge.

Also, what are they going to do with the Klingons? They have no ship. They really did come out of this a lot worse than Kirk and co. No ship, huge casualties—and no one to blame even, but the alien.

I feel like the alien messed up a little in killing so many Klingons. Like, it could have accomplished its purpose, angering the Klingons and turning them on Kirk, by attacking the ship a little less violently—you know they’d react to 5 deaths pretty much the same as 400, and then there would be many more people to fight forever and produce that sweet sweet anger!

Maybe the alien’s powers aren’t strong enough to influence 800 people though. Also it wants equal forces and 800 people wouldn’t fit on the Enterprise, one assumes. So it still makes sense.

That was, of course, an excellent episode. 100% agree with is classic status, even though the main things I remembered going in were the wife + science officer bit, and everyone laughing at the end in a really forced, fake way, in order to make the alien go away.

I thought the Klingons were a lot better/more interesting today than usual. First, I think Kang is a better character, or a better actor maybe, than the others; he has a certain way about him that is… more watchable, more sympathetic. And he’s always saying these really dramatic things that make it seem likely he writes patriotic Klingon war poetry in his off time. Also, including his wife made them seem more… not human obviously, but normal. Not just cardboard cut-out villains. And of course the actual lightly specific motivations I earlier mentioned helped too.

Also, the plotting was very good: it built up slowly but surely over time, so at first the alien’s influence wasn’t that obvious, and then it became more so, and then it became horrifically obvious and extreme. And then you had to re-evaluate earlier moments: was that the alien changing facts in their heads, or a real part of the animosity between humans and Klingons? And it wasn’t always clear, which I appreciated. The tension when the people were at their worst wasn’t overdone, like in that moment with Scotty, Spock, and Kirk—or even in Chekov’s assault on Mara, tbh. The various strategies of the different sides were very entertaining too; there was never a dull moment, and they fit in a lot of straight-up actions and twists into 50 minutes.

The possible threat was truly terrifying, also: stuck in a space ship, forever, unable to die, feeling the worst possible emotions all the time, besieged, angered, despairing, fighting a war that can’t be won, being injured and suffering only to recover and fight again, and it never stops… A perfect nightmare mixture of insanity and violence and pain. And the alien, in encouraging hatred and anger, doesn’t discriminate between sides: they turn on each other just as much as on the Klingons, breeding paranoia and infighting. For eternity.

The episode also felt much more strongly anti-war than I remember tbh. Like it was not subtle. Kirk literally says “stop the war” in so many words. He has a part in his speech where he talks about the possibility of other aliens out there, encouraging other wars. And while I do think “maybe the aliens are making us do it” is a cop out explanation, or would be if it were real, the scenario gave the show a lot of room to say, like, pretty ballsy things: to include “patriotic drum beating” along with “race hatred” in a list of corrupting feelings they were experiencing; to show how the same instincts that lead to warring also lead to sexual assault and the aforementioned ‘race hatred;” to reveal the true horror of an endless war by making the participants unkillable and sticking them in a singular space ship in the middle of nowhere; to imply that the combatants of war gain nothing from it, but outside or third-party entities will pull strings of their own design to profit from the conflict as long as possible; even to make an impassioned plea to camera to stop the endlessness of the conflict. Like I can’t even totally unpack this but it is a lot!

Finally, it was also a great Kirk episode, which of course is my most important factor. He’s smart; he’s strong; he’s so sure of himself and his values that he cannot be manipulated to mindless hatred, he represents the values of the Federation, and the show itself; he treats even his enemies with basic respect and humanity; and ultimately, he saves the day.

Okay I was not efficient in writing this up at all! It is very late!!

[gryphsdeadbones]

hey from one nd person to another the comic where fm gordon says a slur seems kind of in poor taste. ik ur not intentionally making light of it and tht occurring in fm should be criticized but while you dont make it out to be a good thing making jokes about it and calling him a "slurboy" is kind of questionable? it makes it seem more like a plotpoint and angst rather than the creator of fm genuinely fucking up in the past (and having moved on from it)! i think exploring fm coming to terms with being nd is a good idea but this isnt the best way to do it. if you want me to explain my point more lmk if/when u post this and i will! someone already made a post abt it but it was kinda strongly worded and i wanted to approach you more calmly because i genuinely dont want to call you out or start drama or anything ;-;

first off thank you for being civil and patient with me i appreciate this ask a lot- also this got long- im not in a flying rage or anything when i bold or emphasis text, i just needed it also for my own readability and since im not the best at wording- hopefully this hellsite works and my response is under the cut

i would like to know how is it in poor taste when freemind explicitly gets clocked at the very end for saying it. the entire point of the comic was to show that saying the r slur has existed in his source and is bad

im not sure how much more direct i can get, with the disclaimer/warning list growing longer and longer and out there for a huge sign that says “this au can get dark as fuck and these subject matters are treated seriously/not something to mess around with.” Like yes, there are some jokes in the asks and other comics, but that specific comic is not supposed to be “haha thats funny”. it has a serious tone using a rough sketch style bc i was super tired and wanted to vent

was it just the direct reference to it that just made people uncomfortable? because thats 100% understandable, and i made sure i tagged it appropriately (although admittedly, a little bit late since i thought the filter would catch at least the main thing)

i think what some people somehow got from it is “exploring sensitive content = endorsing said content” which! that is not the intent! i absolutely do not want people saying that word! I don’t want people thinking that is any way okay for this character to say

its more of a damned if i do address it, damned if i dont.

if it never comes up, people are gonna assume that ‘oh this character says slurs and is shit, surely the creator or fan-creator MUST be okay with it and woobifies freemind and absolves him of any mistakes’ or something like that. no. this asshole has an arc and i want to do it right. its serious and i think it shouldn’t be shoved under the rug

and people just. dont want to read for context for whatever reason. theyll start watching it and get taken aback by the slur and start blaming me ‘hey you never warned for this’ when very early on i keep mentioning over and over ‘you dont have to watch it if you dont want to! This has slurs and 2000s internet brand humor/style’ You really dont, I’m not forcing you to watch it- Literally all you need to know is either canon half life or hl/vrai. thats it. fm mostly follows hl1 with very slight changes.

so i had to make something that:

1. warns people who arent aware and dont want to go through my asks or about/warning pages (for whatever reason) and just want to see the art

2. also NOT downplay freemind’s canon assholery. listen, i kinda despise writing mean and cruel characters, theyre hard to do, and a lot of people get shit for doing it wrong or people going “character = author”

i’ve also considered leaving the bubbles blank, but then people could fill it with whatever they want, then blame me for being vague. or they’d fill it in with a different kind of slur that freemind has never used, even if he MIGHT be the type to do that. I needed to explicitly mention that it is ableist slur. There are shitty racist and other problematic jokes, but never those kinds of extreme racial slurs to my knowledge.

Although I do see your point that maybe joking about it outside of the serious stuff might not be the best route. The slurboy jokes are getting stale, and I will try a better way to remind people.

The thing that gets to me is that it feels people are more than ready to defend either Ross Scott or Gordon Freeman the fictonal character himself. I don’t??? really care for Ross Scott, so I don’t know if he’s ever brought it up specifically. I’m not really calling him out or cancelling him. Idc for some white man’s feelings, im only bringing the timeframe of That era and reworking it to fit in This current era.

And I hate to break it to people: Gordon Freeman is a blank slate character, you can project whatever the hell you want on him as long as it’s not freakshit illegal garbage. The machinimas (fm, hl/vrai) do have SOME characterization that I want to nail down. It fucking sucks when characters are ooc, and I’m trying not to do that, even if it means sacrificing some comfort. But still mostly staying in my comfort zone if that makes sense

Now about the callout that I do not want to engage with the op directly:

Honestly im very surprised the comic was called out when i just. thought my stuff is relatively tame on exploring the bad shit canon freemind does. ive seen him in fancontent where they really dont hold back and its still played off as ‘kinda funny’ tone.

I really don’t know if people just want any reason to hate me for whatever reason. That’s fine I guess, I can’t please everyone and they dont have to like me.

But like. isn’t it so much easier for the op of that to block me and the post and move on. Why kick up such a fuss. I can see that thinly veiled death threat of a vague. That’s pretty fucked up- Like holy fucking god, you do not have to like my stuff. I’m not holding you at knifepoint to like my stuff. I’ve specifically made two different tags (one general au, one specific au) if anyone wants to blacklist it for their own reasons I do not need to know. I don’t want to know.

You’re allowed to be uncomfortable. You’re allowed to unfollow/blacklist/block.

However you just don’t go ranting about it for something you horribly misinterpreted. If it bothers you so badly, literally just. drop me a message to clarify. thats it. or save yourself the time and block me.

I’ve blocked the op for both our sakes, but if anyone wants to send this post to them, then thats fine. I don’t want anything to do with them.

I don’t want to link the post and blow it up. I just want shit clarified, dropped and we can move the fuck on with our lives. 

If you’re reading this and don’t know what the post is, please don’t bother. I do not want people going after the op with threats, please keep it civil, I’d prefer if you don’t engage with the post at all on my behalf.

Despite this huge wall of text, I do not want this to be a big deal, so please don’t ask me about the details.

_

As for anon, feel free to dm me either on here or. Maybe on discord if you’d still like to suggest or have something more cleared up. I’m still willing to hear any kind of feedback, and i want to thank you again for being reasonable about this