#flight cycles are cool as hell

[phylaxery]

I can't add videos to reblogs so I'm putting it in its own post. Tradition dictates I animate an owl flying for its rig test, so here she is. The queen v2.0, a.k.a. the dragon

[libby-for-life]

-lean in…-Psst! Psst!!

Sooooooo… I found this little ask box here… so… I was wondering, if ya had the time… maybe something like Adam wanting to run around in hell in his full dragon form without Sera bugging him. And maybe…he finds a pretty little red dragon on one of these days out. At first he’s trying to shake it off, since dragons were something Lucifer made but heaven disapproved of. -Lucifer and Adam would gossip and whine about the all the cool stuff that didn’t make it into the garden- Taking this as a dumb animal. But is persuaded/ bullied into playing with it. Having no idea it’s Lucifer just wanting to play with his friend again. -Lucifer tries not to speak during this time-

Hehehehehehe. I like this!

Adam let out a heavy, exasperated sigh as he wearily rested his cheek on the palm of his hand. The lush Heaven sunlight filtered through the window, casting long, meandering shadows across the conference room table. The meeting had stretched on for what felt like an eternity, and yet, they seemed no closer to reaching any sort of consensus. Frustration simmered beneath the surface as everyone continued to talk in circles, their words blending in a sea of indecision. Adam couldn't shake off the overwhelming sense of boredom and restlessness that hung heavily in the air. Another sigh escaped his lips as he longed for this seemingly never-ending cycle of discussion to come to an end.

Adam felt a deep and unmistakable yearning that seemed to arise from the depths of his aging soul - an insatiable longing to stretch out and unleash his wings. However, these wings were not the ethereal golden and benevolent ones that he effortlessly took flight with. They were the formidable and awe-inspiring dragon wings that had been strictly forbidden by Sera ever since his arrival. Upon his initial appearance in the celestial realm of Heaven, his angelic form was a dragon, an unexpected and striking transformation that had unsettled Sera and the entire host of angels.

Sera had taken Adam aside before anyone could take a good look at him. He was dragged to a secluded room and Adam sat, or tried to since his form was massive, through the Seraphim's explanation of how his holy form was inherently evil. "Lucifer had the idea of dragons. We mustn't let anyone know of this form you came here with. It will cause a panic, Adam. Heaven can't ever know."

Adam was filled with a sense of dread as a horrible feeling began to creep in. The realization that his own angelic form could be considered evil filled him with frustration and confusion. He couldn't understand how this could be possible, especially since he had been taught that angelic forms were meant to be perfect. His mounting frustration was further compounded by the presence of Lucifer, who seemed to be once again casting a shadow over his existence. "But...I didn't do anything wrong. You've told me that angelic forms are perfect. So why—" Adam's protest was abruptly cut off as the Seraphim fixed him with a stern glare. "Adam," the Seraphim said sharply, "Are you questioning Heaven itself?"

Adam's face drained of color as the Seraphim appeared to tower over him, her imposing figure casting a chilling shadow over him despite Adam being a massive dragon. "No, Sera! I swear, I don't want to be evil..." he stammered, his voice wavering with fear. Sera tilted her head, studying him intently before straightening up with an air of authority. "It may be due to something you did in your life on Earth. Remember, Heaven's judgment is always just. Keep that in mind."

Adam nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his celestial secret. Later, Sera had taught him to conceal his dragon form and assume a more mundane guise that adhered to Heaven's expectations. However, deep within, his divine essence longed for the unfettered liberation of spreading his radiant wings and soaring through the boundless sky, embracing his true nature without inhibition. Unable to suppress this longing any longer, Adam seized an opportune moment and stealthily ventured into the realm of Hell, seeking an escape from the constraints of his heavenly facade.

Adam had been doing that for years now. He would sneak into Hell to stretch his true form out before returning to Heaven to hide his angelic form away to something less jarring. So far, no one has figured out what he has been doing. Now, if only he could get out of this horrible meeting.

An hour later, Adam's chance to leave presented itself. The lengthy meeting finally came to a close, and with its end, everyone scattered to attend to their respective tasks. Audible relief escaped Adam as he groaned, "Finally..." He wearily rose from his seat and exited the room. No one called out to detain him. Exhausted, Adam made his way back to his modest apartment, collapsing onto his couch upon arrival and taking off his helmet. He found solace in the comfort of finally being able to leave the demands of the day behind.

As soon as Adam had thought about where he would be in Hell he would go, the Wrath ring seemed particularly good this time of year near the Fall, and portal there. He decided on a forest that he liked and had already become familiar with it.

He lazily opened a portal and stepped through, quickly shutting it so no one would see the angelic light. Honestly, Adam wasn't too worried. He picked this forest because it was in the middle of nowhere. All the freedom he could want. Smiling, he let his true angelic form out, and he soon was a large gold dragon with viscous-looking teeth. Bits of earthy tones were mixed into his scales.

Adam spread his powerful wings and took to the skies. The wind rushed beneath him, lifting him higher as he soared above the forest canopy. Below, the trees danced in the gentle breeze, their red leaves whispering secrets of the demon creatures below. Adam loved this feeling of freedom, the exhilaration of flight as he surveyed Hell's domain.

As he glided through the air, a flicker of movement caught his eye. Curious, Adam descended toward the source—a medium-sized red and white-winged dragon looking up at him. Adam sneered at the animal, Sera's words echoing in his mind, and turned away to fly off. This was a Hellborn. Attacking it was something he shouldn't be doing since it could jeopardize the Heaven and Hell treaty.

He was not prepared for what happened next.

The dragon pounced on his back and Adam screeched out, "What the hell?!" As he stumbled to the ground. Adam opened gold furious eyes, glaring at the dumb animal. If animals could look smug, that thing would certainly would be.

"Get off!" Adam tried bucking him off, his wings flapping to get the surprisingly heavy animal off his back. The stupid dragon seemed to have taken this as a sign for play because soon they were tumbling on the ground, trying to pin each other down. As they fought, Adam noticed that the thing had six eyes. Six...familiar-looking eyes that Adam couldn't quite place.

Adam huffed and snapped at the thing. He clutched him around the middle with his massive jaws and swung him around into a tree. The thing bounced and hit his head on a branch. Adam thought that would be the end and he could finally leave this forest. Find somewhere else to spread his wings.

He was about to take off when a strangled cry made him stop. Adam didn't know why he stopped but he did turn around when he heard the same screech. The dragon had scratches all over his face, black blood seeping out as he tried to stop the pain.

Adam sighed. Was he seriously going to do this? The much larger dragon stomped back to the smaller dragon and huffed. "You started this. Shouldn't have fought me." The dragon only whined pathetically. Adam growled and huffed but brought the dragon closer. "Just...just need a little here..."

The dragon stopped whining when Adam healed him. "There. Now stop whining...you're really warm." Adam said absent-mindedly. He sniffed the dragon but was not expecting the little guy to crawl up his back again and curl around his neck.

Adam would have fought it. He should have torn that thing to shreds and left it to die for trying to mess with Adam. Instead, he let out a loud purr that rang through the air and the surrounding forest.

"Get...off," Adam said in between his purring but the little dragon seemed to produce more heat, making Adam tired. When was the last time he was this warm? Heaven was always on the cold side. He wanted this warmth and Adam's angelic dragon was practically taking the wheel now.

"Fine. Just...a few hours..." Adam grumbled before he fell asleep, surrounded by that warmth. The little dragon chuckled once he knew that Adam was asleep.

"Well, it's been a while, hasn't it? My, what a pretty form you have!" He whispered, careful not to stop his warm temperature as Adam slept. Claws glided over sensitive scales. Lucifer had been posing as a dragon and it was just lucky timing that Adam stumbled onto him.

Now, Lucifer had always known that Adam's angelic form he presented whenever they met wasn't real. He had no idea why the man would hide something like that, but in all honesty, Lucifer didn't care. Now, he can see why.

Dragons were something he and Lucifer had discussed for hours. It was one of the many things that never made it into Eden. Adam, seeing how sad Lucifer was at yet another idea being rejected, started to name animals after the dragon. Bearded Dragon, Komodo Dragon, and a few others.

Lucifer was touched, and still was, that Adam would do all that to keep his idea alive. But wasn't this adorable? Adam's angelic body was that of a dragon. A magnificent one at that.

Adam must be coming down here so Heaven wouldn't see him as a dragon. Lucifer wasn't a fool. A form like this would have the Higher Choir in a panic. Someone would have to have convinced Adam to hide it. Eventually, Adam would have gone stir crazy and the rest was history.

"This is going to be a lot of fun...." It had been a while since Lucifer had someone to play with.

[bookwormally]

It's 2024 and I am Tired

Apparently, people are convinced I am (again) not a real person and are focusing on this through the lens of…..a dragon game. Cool. Awesome. Real good use of time in the 2020s. For those who click on this out of nosiness (I get it) and just to lay out some facts, hi I'm Ally. I'm in my 30s. I live in the eastern USA, I'm white, and I'm a librarian. Some people do not believe this! Who do they think I am? My friend Astral apparently.

Why? Because I talk to them and trade things back n forth on flight rising. (yes, Im back on FR in my spare time. The familiar collecting and alchemy, my beloved). Of course I'm sure there's more reasons than that. People can always find some. But that's the current lens as I understand it. Since they seem to be blog crawling for proof, I figured I'd post this thing to at least put the record straight with anyone who cares? 🤷 I'm not going to doxx myself for them or anything, but hey in case you hear something stupid, here's a good reason to block and move on.

And if someone is blog crawling for proof of this nonsense, please know that I do not have the energy to actually be more than myself. The days are long, man. The world kind of totally sucks. (I do the small things I can to fight back, especially at work.) I'm sorry that you feel like you have to do this? Like, this is really sad and I'm sorry for whatever you're chasing. I'm sorry that someone expressing their feelings on their personal blog has you so worked up. Astral has their issues (god knows we all do) and maybe their language or conduct upset you. It happens.

But instead of doing all this, maybe treat yourself. The block button's free. I use it for stupid opinions I see all the time. (I'm not putting them here. I have manners.) Enjoy something you enjoy instead of getting trapped in the hell cycle of hate.

Astral's a friend, has been for years. Ups and downs have happened. Life's been hard the last few. People lash out when they're in corners, shockingly. I think that's allowed especially on a private blog. Instead of drawing up a conspiracy about them and their friends, maybe just move on with your life. Let people live. That's what I try to do. Basically,

and finally, here's my fr username with me!

if you read this far, thanks! Hope you have a good day with people you care for.

[manyblinkinglights]

Started out my evening at a club event that was like. Hell? Massive skulls rotating behind the DJ, giant demon striding around the dance platform, peering down at eventgoers. It was really cool.

Then I went to the Cloud Cuddle Club triple VR furry birthday party, and stayed there for the whole rest of the evening, bar surfacing unfortunately to social media:

The world had a beautiful one-hour day/night cycle! The days were crisp and pretty and the nights had serene aurora. There were A LOT of dragons there. I think a couple wing-special-interest groups collided. The world had flight enabled, too, so. Boy, are my arms tired.

[stevemc37]

Violets and Chicories - Chapter Ten

"Mordecai!"

Rigby's voice briefly bounced off of the walls at the side of the gymnasium that he had just left, the metal push doors clanging shut. They were left in partial silence. The music from inside was still quietly booming, their footsteps were slapping against the concrete, and Rigby's breaths were heavy in the quiet air. Unusual for the region's typical weather, it hadn't snowed that winter. It was cold enough, that was for damn sure, but the lack of rain only brought their town icy air, stole-cold dirt, and trees so frozen that their limbs looked like they could snap off at the gentlest of breezes. 

"Mordecai! Wait up, would you?"

He was walking up ahead, still burning from their... discussion at the dance. The flames of their argument were still crackling, though not quite as brightly as a minute ago. That is, if you could even call what they had an argument. The frozen, winter air served to cool him off, but would quickly turn frigid. Removing himself from the scene served to keep him at bay, but he wasn't sure what he might say if he saw either Margaret and Twilight again that night, or even the next few days for that matter. He couldn't keep the whirling questions in his head from spinning, morphing into new and cycling back to the old. Theories on Margaret and Twilight's history buzzed in his ears like mosquitos: relentless in flight, dodging his fruitless mental-swatting, and annoying as hell. But no length of pondering could bring him the whole and true answers that he so desired.

Seeing Rigby sidle up to him from his peripherals drew a quiet sigh from him. He didn't want to snap at his best friend, afraid that he would attempt to console him in some way that he didn't really want or need at the current moment. He was in no way angry at him, of course, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to talk about it. Well, he did, but he just needed a few minutes.

"Want a soda?" His friend asked, and he glanced down in mild surprise to find that Rigby had managed to stuff a couple of cans into the pockets of his dress pants. Sure, men's pants already came with more pocket room than women's because... definitely misogynist reasons, but these were dress pants they were talking about here.

With a snort, Mordecai plucked a can from his hand, cracking it open with a pop that sounded miles happier than he felt. Knocking their colas together in cheers, they both took a long, refreshing sip.

"Thanks," he muttered, and Rigby nodded sagely.

"Sure thing. I would've snagged some more chips, but I didn't have enough room in my shirt."

"More?" The blue jay inquired, and the raccoon turned around while backwards-walking to reveal the lopsided shape bulging from underneath his button-up, his trademark grin glinting in the light of the curved parking lot streetlamps as he looked back.

"Dude, you're a freaking genius. You know that?"

"Yup. So do you want Cheetos or Doritos?"

"Do you have cool ranch?"

Unbuttoning the front of his shirt while leaving it tucked in seemed to be Rigby's preferred method of storing various bulky items in his clothing, and after a couple seconds of rustling and shuffling behind his back, he retrieved one of those small bags of chips that parents buy in bulk to bring to their kid's soccer games. He wasn't nearly in the mood for a celebratory WOOOAAAHHHH, but this certainly helped.

. +*

MordeTwi content that I will not be apologizing for.

[kirby-dalziel]

May I know some of your foul legacy headcannons? Cool art btw I always love seeing a more body horror spin on the idea

Wow oops I have no idea when I got this ask I’m sorry ;; finishing chapter one kind of Ate my brain

Thank u much I do love monstery foul legacy a lot a lot

Uhhhhhh headcanons. Idk what all I’ve posted about before and this is in no particular order or along any particular line of thought. Keep in mind I’ve constructed a LOT of world building behind the scenes lmao

* Nesting. Started out feeling weird about doing it, one of the first things he felt unable to control himself doing. came to accept it and embrace it, friends would gift pillows and blankets to add

*tongue(s) are deceptively long and coil in a pouch just underneath his chin when not fully extended. Rubbing the pouch feels good and nice and he’ll stick his tongue out slowly until it’s like, totally hanging outside the side of his face and he sneezes a bunch

* scared by loud noises. Partially innate fight or flight instinct, partially trauma from being struck by lightning when he was lost in the liyue woods not long after permanently transforming

* Caterwauls outside to declare territory. One of those instinctual things he just Does now and realizes after the fact that he did it

* Flicking and wiggling wings to ward others away/express excitement. Wings aren’t super capable of flight, more of a communication thing, but can glide

* Hiding in blankets when he wants to be alone

* Always has to be bundled up when it’s even slightly cold. This is mostly due to damage done to nerves from abusing transformative powers prior to turning

* Loafing when wants to conserve body heat or defensive

* Cravings for raw meat, flowers, sunsettias. Abyssal beast species is technically a pollinator of megaflora as well as an omnivorous hunter-gatherer species

* Intolerance for dairy, complex carbs (not allergic, just prone to indigestion)

* Fresh snow drives him nuts, it feels weird and awesome on his face so the first time he felt well enough to go outside in the winter he shoved his face in the snow and ran around rolling and giggling

*his face plating and bone spurs are covered by thick vascularized flesh and he can definitely feel things touching those parts, it just feels Different. Feels leathery but soft to the touch. He loves having his cheek plating stroked.

*face plating and darker patches of skin get flushed very easily when flustered, overexerted, or in heat

*he’s actually pretty small for an adult of the abyss species he’s turned into, due to abuse of transformative powers prior to turning, and his body struggling to simultaneously process two incongruous species’ puberty periods growing up. As a result his joints are a little weak now and his heat cycles SUCK. like REALLY BAD.

*even though turning and losing abyssal magic powers to numb his body to all of This kind of fucked him up really bad and he’s nowhere near as capable as he was when he was a Harbinger, he’s stubborn as hell and will overwork himself trying to regain proficiency in weapons with this newly permanent form

[skepticoyote]

Almost died, now what?

Last week (Saturday October 14) my partner and I flew to Toronto to spend a few days with his parents. They rented a nice AirBnB and we had a whole week of fun activities planned (mostly museums because we are boring people). We were really excited since neither of us have traveled since before Covid and it had been literally years since we had seen his family.

The morning of our trip I was feeling a little nauseous and threw up, but passed it off as travel nerves. Something you need to understand about me is that I have struggled with stomach issues for the better part of a decade. I will have these seemingly random bouts of extreme nausea and vomiting anywhere between 3 weeks and 3 months apart, usually lasting about 2 - 4 days. During these attacks I am usually unable to eat anything and can barely keep water down. Weed helps, but obviously it isn't ideal.

So, we caught our flight & landed in Toronto, met with my inlaws & settled in at the AirBnB. Around 3PM I started to feel kinda queasy so I took a quick nap, then we all went out to grab some dinner. As we walked around I started feeling worse and worse, until finally at around 7 I had to run to a restroom at goddamned Loblaws. Did the deed, cleaned myself up, went on my way, still feeling weak and gross. We picked up some Gravol and I headed to bed, hoping that by the next morning I would be back to normal.

Oh hell no.

What followed was nearly 30 hours of vomiting. I couldn't even keep water down and nothing I did helped. There were a couple of points where I was halfway asleep on the bathroom floor, just because I didn't want to keep getting out of bed. It was nice and cool, and close to the toilet.

Sometime the next day MIL - a retired nurse - insisted on taking me to the ER. Off I went to Toronto Western in a cab with my partner and my little metal barf-bowl. At this point I was so loopy that I can't even remember what time of day it was. Everything kinda runs together so I'm sorry if this confusing to read.

Triage saw me pretty much right away and immediately the nurse was concerned. I was grey, one of my eyelids was drooping, and I absolutely reeked of ketones.

Too tired to explain ketones, ketoacidosis or the Krebs cycle so click here if you need to: KETONES

They drew some blood and I waited for the results. I expected them to just hook me up to a banana bag, some strong antiemetics and send me on my way... nope. I was admitted and sent immediately to the ICU and diagnosed with metabolic acidosis. My blood was literally too acidic and was killing me.

The first night is a blur. I remember a CT scan and a shitload of bloodwork. Luckily they were able to get my ketones down, but they were still too high. For example, a healthy persons ketone levels should be lower than 0.5 mmol/L. At admission mine was at a 4.0, and later that night tested again at 8.0. That's 16 times the normal healthy level.

The doctors were baffled. Basically (lol pH humor), it was like I had the blood of a profoundly diabetic person... but my blood sugars were perfect. At one point they were asking if I might have ingested wood alcohol or antifreeze. They asked if someone may have spiked my drink. To quote the main doc, I did not look like my bloodwork. I had poison in my blood and no one knew why.

More bloodwork, more tests... at one point I had an IV in each arm. A second CT was done. They were looking for anything that could cause this and there was just nothing there. As far as the CTs show, all of my internal organs appear normal (although I have a teensy cyst in my liver apparently) and with persistant medicine over the course of 2 days they were able to get me eating and drinking again. My ketones eventually seemed to level off but they were still high EVEN THOUGH I WAS FEELING FINE. No clue what would cause my ketones to jump like that. It could have been caused by the vomiting, but nowhere near that high... and even then, we still don't know what's causing the vomiting. They discharged me late Thursday night with strict instructions to speak with my family doctor when I flew home on Friday to immediately get my blood drawn again to monitor my ketone levels. They sent me home with a packet of paperwork... all my test results, all the comments and notes from the medical team at Toronto Western.

I won't get into the frustrations of Friday... we had to fly home at 6:00am after being discharged at 11:00pm the night before, and then begin the torturous process of getting my bloodwork done at home. It was a headache and wound up taking another 9 hours of waiting between the two hospitals in my city. Finally, late on Friday I was able to get my blood drawn and my results... my ketones were still way, way too high at 4.0. Again. For no reason. And yet another team of doctors left baffled by my issues.

The doctors at the Regional told me that I am to come straight back to the ER if I have even a hint of nausea or dizzyness. If I don't, I could just... die, I guess? I'm going to need to have biweekly bloodwork to monitor my ketone levels until they figure out what is causing this. I've also go an emergency referral to an endocrinologist and internal medicine doctor here in town.

Since I've been home I haven't been sick at all, although I'm still weak from the whole thing. There was a 50% chance I could have died that night at the hospital, and it was very likely that if I hadn't gone to Western when I did, I would have been dead the next morning. It was honestly a miracle that I didn't end up on dialysis.

So I've been taking it easy, forcing myself to eat every few hours to try and keep my ketones low. And it's been hard. Wednesday I have an appointment with my family doctor and to say that I'm nervous is an understatement. I'm terrified that he's going to play this off as nothing, or that I'm looking for drugs... because that's what he does. He doesn't listen. But I have my goddamn novel of test results and doctors' notes from Toronto AND the Regional here in town, and I'm ready to slap him with it if I need to. I need him to get me in to a GI doc ASAP, and not one who just tells me to stop smoking weed or test me for parasites. I'm not shitting in any more buckets, I swear to fuck.

Anyway. That's where I'm at. I'm not dead but I almost was and it really sucked and I don't recommend getting metabolic acidosis.

[ruthlesslistener]

4, 9, and 14 for Theodonalus

And 6, 22, and 24 for Takhanobou!

And not from the Ask Game but how did you come up with their names? I think they’re really cool and unique!

Theodonalus:

4. What is something that they’re secretly good at? Do they have a hidden talent, such as being a brilliant kazoo player or a master chess wizard?

-Theo is an amazing singer! The Queynï are one of the few dragons who are capable of true song, and are famous for immortalizing history, folklore, and tales they pick up on their migration paths into long ballads. Theo pretty much never sings, since he's a self-selected outcast from his tribe, but his voice is exceptionally compelling and his storytelling immaculate. His relationship with his voice is somewhat conflicted, as it was his only feature that made the rest of his tribe pay a lick of attention to him other than considering him a pitiful dead-spirited dragon, but that particular gripe faded with time, and later legends came to claim that his voice had an ethereal, spellbinding quality to it.

9. Tell me your favorite moment with your OC. (Either that you wrote or drew.)

-Haven't written it yet, but it has to be when Theo goes claw-to-fang with Verada, Takhanobou's adoptive mother. To lure her into a blind rage, he mutilated the corpse of one of her new hatchlings (that died from neglect, but she was unaware of this fact), then spat the body out at her and mocked her, which enraged her so much that she locked her focus onto him, allowing Takhanobou the opening to leap onto her back and snap her neck

wait fuck, i forgot i doodled it

14. Does your OC have any superstitions? Good luck rituals? Do they believe in and/or practice the arcane arts?

-Dragons aren't really religious; they believe themselves to be the most powerful form of life at their apex, which means no gods for them. They do, however, have a very keen sense of the cycle between life and death, and believe that when they die, the creatures that feed on their corpse will take their life essence, and who they were will become one with the land, a belief that's pretty much exactly in line with how magic works in their world. Theo is more connected to this natural pulseline than most, but he never consciously tapped into it, nor was as reverent about it as the rest of his kin (when you grow up with everyone expecting you to die, and then viewing you as spiritually dead because you are incapable of flight, the first most important thing to your tribe, then you tend to not care as much about death as the rest of them, apart from being very determined not to meet it).

Takhanobou:

16. How organized is your OC? Do they like to have a place for everything and everything in its place, or do they live inside a tornado of chaos and mayhem?

-Taki is actually pretty damn neat, to the point where it would be considered obsessive-compulsive in our world. Part of this is because Verada wanted him to remain as scentless and pristine as possible (the better for him to look like an idealistic killing machine for her cause), but it's also just because he's naturally an orderly dragon who likes his living space to be clean. He is far more diligent about dragging old bones and meat out of the den than Theodonalus, and when they finally settle in a place that allows for a courtship-hoard to be accumulated, he makes sure that its always neatly arranged and carefully placed in an area that makes it easy to defend- anything less will make him anxious. The sole exception to this rule is during or after battles, where he will stalk around with blood crusted all over him and his wounds still seeping blood, a display done with the sole purpose of scaring the everloving shit out of any other dragons in the nearby vicinity.

22. If your OC were a real person, would you be friends with them? Why or why not?

-Lmao hell to the fuck no. All my ocs are my property to arrange and mutilate as I wish. All my enjoyment of characters in general comes entirely from the fact that they are fictional narrative tools. I do not want my life to intersect with my own.

that being said i do have a self insert in my own universe (two actually, bc i am god) who is khazari, and i am half the size of taki at his adult age. if i got into a fight with him- and i would- he would fucking kill me. no thank you.

24. What is your OC’s favorite food? Can they cook it? Where do they get their food? (And most importantly, do you feed your OCs enough? Don’t forget to throw them a meal once in a while.)

-Taki's favorite food is gazelle, as I said! And no, he cannot cook it, though this is not his fault in the slightest. He either eats it raw, or he devours it in the manner that all fire dragons, which is burned to cinders on the outside and raw as fuck on the inside. Sometimes half raw half charred, depending on if he chose to kill it with fangs and talons or with flame. He hunts all of his own food, though Theo does half of the hunting after they become mates, and pretty much only starts eating enough/healthily after he's exiled from the Isles. Part of this is because there was a famine going on in that part of the world, and part of it was that Verada was forcing him to hunt on his own instead of collaboratively with her and the rest of his nestlings, which sharpened his wits and killing skill at the expense of gurenteed meals. I mean, he probably got more nutrition in him than his 'siblings'- eating a variety of small prey compared to the macrofauna that his tribe normally eats means he got more of a range of food in him during harsh times- but it still wasn't enough. The Shurya-Khazhar also don't know how to fish, as they are an inland locale of fire dragons whose large, bulky frames are more suited for taking down large prey, so Theo teaching him how to fish also helped quite a bit.

(Interestingly, spineback boar is his least favorite type of meat, despite it being favored prey of the Khazari. This becomes less surprising when one realizes that Verada only fed him spineback when he failed his hunts, which means that he associated its taste heavily with failure and her cold disapproval.)

.

As for how I named them- I honestly cannot remember in the slightest, because I made them waaaay back in 2013. I just remember that 'Theodonalus' was meant to dance on the tongue while 'Takhanobou' was meant to be pronounced with a harsh growl. I can say, however, that Theo's name roughly translates to 'ghost wind rising' (aka 'soon to be dead'), while Takhanobou was named after the massive volcano that the Khazari believe the first of their kin to have risen from, and very roughly means 'cleansing destruction, fire of creation', though linguistic drift and fracture of the tribe into different subregions has caused some issues with translation

[honestlyvan]

your post about bladelore was really interesting, do you have any thoughts about the designs of the ferronises?

(message from future Van as I edit this -- Beware Ye Of The Unmarked Asspulls in this answer. Also SPOILERS THROUGH THE END OF CHAPTER 7) Yeah, like, I'm kind of two minds about them? I definitely think the way they take on similar features to a big source of cultural trauma (Faced Mechons for Keves, Sirens for Agnus) of the two kingdoms supports the idea that ether is still a kind of collective memory, the way it was presented in XC2. They're weapons of intimidation, first and foremost, built to bolster the forces and make them more comfortable taking risks and choosing fight over flight, to feel like they've got something dangerous backing them up, but I also feel like they're subtly designed to reinforce the sense of hopelessness that is instrumental to the war working as intended. Z wants everyone to give up, the goal is to make everyone into Moebius and arrive at a kind of heat death of the universe that way.

From a practical perspective, I don't think the Ferronises are a new development in the war.... but I do think the war was probably initially fought without them, with everyone just under the one Big Flame Clock at the Castle. But we now that people do figure the war out, and if everyone was concentrated together, they'd just figure it out quicker, so eventually the amount of people fighting in the war necessitated they get split up and scattered across Aionios to stop them from seeing too much of the big picture to work it out like Alexandria did. So, basically, I'm taking the long way around to say that I think Flame Clocks preceded Ferronises, and Ferronises were conceived as extensions of Levnises, and are probably historically represented as such.

I think there's also a certain amount of incentive for Z to keep growing the scale of the war as more people became Moebius and started requiring Things To Do in the Eternal Now -- a lot of the Consuls in the game are or at least appear to be pretty new to their jobs, or at least have enthusiasm for it, which could be a ramp effect to embracing the true Endless Now of Not Doing Anything Ever Again after they get their petty victory or revenge or whatever it is that drove them to become Moebius in the first place. Maybe Ferronises were initially built to allow the Consuls to spar amongst themselves, and then as they got bored of that, new Consuls would take over.

Which brings me back around to the actual designs of the Ferronises -- lots of animal motifs to go around, but off the top of my head nothing really seems to match up that strongly with its Consul, other than maybe the miko outfit on Mu paralleling I's design. One that really leaps out is R with her fox design placed alongside the very scorpion-y Colony 11. Since there's a limited amount of Consul Titles to go around, if the ramp theory is correct, the Ferronises may be designed to spec by their original Consuls, but as they are now they're more like.... tabletop RPG factions, they all come with their own "playstyle" so to speak. Hell, depending on how circular you want to see the timeloop as, maybe colonies tend to have the same commanders over and over in a cycle, which would bring some periodic consistency to the game of war.

During the events of the game, we may actually be in a lull between campaigns, with a lot of consuls electing to not play, leaving Z to having to pull up a bunch of new Moebius to fill the seats around the gameboard, because if the war cools off too much, the people of the Kingdoms are gonna start asking questions again.

[icicle-nail-biting]

the birds are coming

Birds are not real. Birds are robots made by the government. Birds are spying on you. One day, the birds will kill us all. They will suck our blood and sing our praises. Make every meal a party!

Bird Speakers – iPod Nanos, $39.99, Amazon

Aaahhh…. I just hear the air guitars and badass drumroll. Bird Speakers are not that birdie. But they do work to make sounds that mimic the screech of birds, all from your iPod, through the help of some really cool USB dongles. I totally think I could see it working with a lot of music from Tool, Pink Floyd, U2, and Shania Twain.

Bird Walk – iPhone, $9.99, iTunes

iPod Bird Walk is a beautiful way to bring the birds into your home. Just hold up the receiver, and it will give you the clearest sounds possible from around you. Of course, the bird in my pocket is loud as hell, so I haven’t been able to really test this product yet. But it sure does sound like a bizillion birds chirping, and it’s something that I have wanted to try. Check it out!

Bird Magnet – iPhone, $14.99, Amazon

Yep, you heard me right. Bird Magnet is a yellow plastic ring that you get to stick on the back of your iPhone. It makes your phone more bird-proof and, hopefully, gives the bastards something else to peck at. They don’t like plastic much.

But one day, regardless of what you do, the birds will come for us. And they will kill us all. You know, by getting inside our ears and making our eardrums bleed. There is nothing that we can do about it. It’s happening.

Since no one can stop the birds, I propose that we will just have to use our imaginations and come up with creative ways to defeat them. I suggest Bird Pinball, Bird Mario, Bird Cops, Bird Tactics, Bird Darts, Bird Snacking, Bird Pie Eating, Bird Moth Repellent, Bird Ammo, Bird Courting, Bird Power, Bird Genes, Bird Incest, Bird Nicer, Bird Smarter, Bird Invader, Bird Thinker, Bird Insight, Bird Chef, Bird Brewmasters, Bird Drinker, Bird Grounders, Bird Zen, Bird Science, Bird Guy, Bird Quieter, Bird Hunter, Bird Navigation, Bird Scare, Bird Cubbers, Bird River Runner, Bird Time Traveler, Bird Claws, Bird CEO, Bird Genius, Bird Teacher, Bird Boss, Bird Full Cycle, Bird Brother, Bird Tender, Bird Keeper, Bird Keeper Job, Bird Planter, Bird Galler, Bird Quitters, Bird Left Behind, Bird Pants, Bird Probie, Bird High Flight, Bird Nemesis, Bird Trustee, Bird Highway Pilot, Bird Knowledge Seeker, Bird Football Coach, Bird Hero, Bird Heartbreaker, Bird Lousy, Bird Soaring, Bird Super Nova, Bird Wonder, Bird Whisperer, Bird Moralist, Bird Moralizer, Bird Nostalgia, Bird Smart. Then, we will try to put on our best when the birds come. And we will not give in, for we are the bird killers.

–

What new ways are you coming up with to counter the birds?

[musclesandhammering]

Every Single Issue I Have With S*lki (It’s Not Just The Selfcest)

Here goes. I threatened to post this a few days ago and never did, but I just saw a s*lki stan Twitter account claim that Loki caring about Sylvie more than the whole multiverse was a Good And Romantic thing and it pushed me over the fucking edge, so now you all have to read this. I’ve divided it into categories cause there’s just THAT much.

OOC Bullshit

• First and foremost, no amount of mental gymnastics you do will ever make me believe that this specific Loki- the one that just invaded New York, that just came off a year of Thanos Torture, that just got done being influenced by the sceptre, that was literally in the middle of a crisis already, and then on top of that went through all the trauma of Ep 1- would even be worried about a romantic relationship. That would be the furthest thing from his mind. Go back and watch how he acted in Avengers- you think that guy would abandon his previous mission to become a snivelling simp for a girl he’d just met 3 days prior? Yeah, there’s no universe in which that makes sense.

• “It’s very in character for Loki to fall in love with himself lololol-“ NO, it’s literally not. Out of all the characters in the mcu, I don’t think I can think of anyone that genuinely hates themselves more than Loki. He even referred to all his other male variants as “monsters” and said meeting them was “a nightmare” in this series. He’s got so much self-loathing, plus the fact that he genuinely thinks himself to be an evil backstabbing scourge- so there’s no evidence at all suggesting that he would ever develop a fondness for, or even be inclined to trust, another version of himself, after only knowing them for 3 days.

• Building on that, the whole concept of Loki falling in love with a version of himself just feeds into the annoying ass misconception that he’s a narcissist. No matter which way you stack it, he’s not. If you’re referring to NPD, he doesn’t fit the criteria, and if you’re saying “narcissist” just as a slang term meaning “selfish and arrogant”, that still doesn’t accurately describe him. But when creators like Waldron and Herron do things like having him fall in love with himself, it makes it so much easier for casual viewers to think that he is.

Shitty LGBT Rep

• It’s kinda sus that Loki’s are allegedly genderfluid and yet the only female-presenting variant we see (and apparently the only female-presenting variant there is, cause the male Loki’s all seemed unfamiliar with the concept) is treated as some kind of mind-bogglingly special paradox. Also very sus that, out of all the Loki variants, the one our Loki falls in love with just so happens to be the only female one. What a coincidence.

• The fact that the creators of the show went around bragging about Loki’s bisexuality and Marvel purposefully (lbr) allowed stories about Loki possibly having a male love interest to circulate, specifically enticing queer viewers to watch the show (you know, the definition of queerbaiting), and then instead of having a male love interest (Loki was the first queer main character, so it was the perfect opportunity) they gave us *gestures to this dumpster fire* this… it’s just a middle finger to LGBT fans. The fact that they would rather have this relationship with all its myriad of problems than have a gay relationship is just……. Very telling.

• While him being with a woman obviously doesn’t refute his bisexuality, the fact that they showed/talked about him being interested in 3 different women (flight attendant, Sylvie, Sif) and never even hinted at him being attracted to a man, definitely makes it seem like they were trying to cover up his bisexuality to smooth things over with the more homophobic viewers. You know? It’s like “I know you’re pissed that we sorta confirmed Loki as bi, so we promise we’ll never mention it again! Or even hint at it! As a matter of fact, we’ll give him lots of female lovies and make him seem as straight as possible! That’ll take your mind off of that horrible crumb of queer rep, right? Please please please keep giving us your money!!!”

• Aside from all the other issues, at its core, the biggest reason why I think I’m so irritated with s*lki is that it took one of the most interesting, complex, and diverse characters in cinema atm and squished him into a tired ass unnecessary heteronormative subplot…. Like literally every. single. other. protagonist. ever. Loki is such a unique character, and it’s so so so incredibly disappointing that they stuck him into that same boring cookie cutter romance that happens to every other character in every other movie I’ve ever seen. It’s a disservice, and it’s honestly just not compelling or entertaining at all.

Thematic Issues Galore

• His arc didn’t need a romance. With anyone. It was unnecessary and it didn’t make sense plot-wise. In fact, one of the reasons he was my fav prior to this was because he was the only big-name mcu character whose story wasn’t muddied-up by a romance that didn’t need to be there. So much for that.

• He wasn’t emotionally ready for a romantic relationship with anyone. Hell, just a genuine friendship would’ve been pushing it for him at this point. He was in such a bad state that any relationship he got into would’ve been toxic and unhealthy for both him and the other person, and it doesn’t make sense why the writers would want to put him in one when there were so many cons and essentially no pros (other than “Uwu aren’t they cute together”).

• Sylvie’s character in general was unnecessary and Loki’s character was robbed just by her being there. The whole show became about her post-Ep 2. They spent most of the time giving her backstory, building her up, telling us how awesome she is, trying to convince us to like her, etc when what they really needed to be doing was building Loki up- cause I gotta say, if I had to describe TVA!Loki in a few words, they would be Flat, Boring, and Weak.

• The romance overtakes the plot. They spend time portraying their supposed connection that could’ve been spent adding depth and complexity to literally any of the characters. They make the big Nexus Event them giving each other googly eyes on Lamentis when it could’ve been so many other way more profound things that speak to the fundamental nature of Loki’s. They have the climax of the finale be “oh no she betrayed him to kill He Who Remains” when it could’ve been something way more compelling (Loki having a moral crisis over whether or not to kill HWR, Loki contemplating the state of the multiverse and weighing the pros and cons of freedom vs order, Loki looking into some What If situations and getting emotional about what could’ve been regarding his family, Loki realising the gravity of HWR’s offer and finally coming to terms with how important he is to the universal cycle, etc etc). The entire plot suffered in favour of a romance that half of us didn’t even want.

• It essentially reduced all of Loki’s potential character growth down to “He did it for his crush.” He seemed to at least have some motivations of his own in Ep 1-2 (feeble as they were) but after Sylvie showed up in Ep 3, literally every action he took was just him being a simp for her. Why did he lie in the interrogation? To try to protect Sylvie. Why did he fight the minutemen and Timekeepers? To survive kinda, but mostly cause it was important to Sylvie. Why did he get pruned? Cause he got distracted trying to confess his crush to Sylvie. Why did he try to get out of The Void? Cause he thought Sylvie needed him. Why did he stay in The Void? Cause Sylvie was staying. Why did he try to enchant Alioth? Cause Sylvie told him to. Why did the multiverse get cracked open, leading to an infinite number of Kangs waging war on all of existence? Cause Loki didn’t wanna hurt Sylvie in their fight at the Citadel and then get distracted by her kissing him. It’s uninteresting and honestly pretty embarrassing.

• Throughout their “relationship arc” the writers do their absolute damndest to convince us that we should like Sylvie more than Loki. And you know what? It’s the most hypocritical shit I’ve ever seen. They preach and preach about how Sylvie’s life has been so difficult/we should feel bad for her/she had it so bad/poor poor sylvie/she had it SO much worse than pampered prince Loki…. But then they never even touch on any of Loki’s trauma of hardships (the ones that have been ignored for literally 3 movies now). They frame Sylvie as a good person and a Freedom Fighter after she spent literal decades/centuries mass-murdering brainwashed TVA agents and showing exactly zero remorse for it….. but then they make it their mission to constantly remind us that Loki is a terrible person and constantly put him in situations where he’s forced to acknowledge his wrongdoings/show remorse/admit to how “evil” he is for being a mass murderer for like 2 years. They show him on-screen having a wider range of powers than her, and perpetuate his whole shtick of being a “master manipulator” or whatever….. But then they make Sylvie “the brawn” more competent, intelligent, and physically capable than him. Tell me how it’s a good thing for a ship to be so narratively biased toward one character.

Missed Opportunities

• If they absolutely had to have a romance subplot, then they could’ve paired Loki with one of the characters that have already been established OR one of the characters that were a big part of the whole TVA storyline anyway. It would’ve been so interesting if they’d revealed that Loki had a history with some of the players from previous films (Sif and Fandral both come to mind). It also would’ve been really interesting if they’d given Loki a love interest that actually had some allegiance to the TVA as a whole (Mobius maybe, but not necessarily. It also could’ve been Renslayer or B-15). Hell, imo it would’ve been cool if they’d followed through with that “See you again someday” line that he said to the flight attendant in Ep 1. ALL of these characters have way more chemistry with him than Sylvie, and they were also already relevant to the plot without wasting half the show to give background info on them.

• If they absolutely had to have a hetero-presenting love story involving an enchantress-type figure, then there’s a whole Enchantress (Amora) that was actually Loki’s love interest in the comics. Plus, fans have been screaming for Amora to appear in the mcu for years. Plus, Tom literally pitched an Amora/Loki storyline way back in 2012-13. Also, Lorelei (another enchantress) is also one of Loki’s love interests in the comics, and she already exists in the mcu (she was on Agents of SHIELD). There were several different established characters for them to choose from. Creating a whole knew amalgamation of a character and going with the “she’s a Loki variant” storyline was just completely unnecessary and made no sense.

• They completely robbed us of a Chaos Twins dynamic. Had they handled Sylvie better and not forced her and Loki to smooch, the two of them could’ve had a really really complex and interesting sibling relationship. Loki could’ve stepped into Thor’s shoes and sort of used that new role to gain some self importance, and Sylvie could’ve finally had somebody to look out for her/teach her magic/be there for her. It would’ve been very aesthetically pleasing, the vibes would’ve been out of this world, it would’ve been way more profound than this bs, and frankly it would’ve been much more entertaining to watch.

• Loki’s relationship (read: obsession) with Sylvie completely overshadows all Loki’s other relationships in the show. Loki and Mobius were literally the focal point of the series in Ep 1-2, but after Sylvie showed up in Ep 3, they barely had any interactions with each other, and Mobius pretty much faded to the background entirely. Loki had the beginnings of a pretty interesting antagonistic relationship with Renslayer (with her wanting him pruned, then arguing with Mobius that he couldn’t be trusted), but after Sylvie showed up the dynamic shifted to focus on the history between her and Ravonna. Loki and B-15 started off very badly and openly disliked each other throughout Ep 1-2, and then in the end of Ep 2, Loki showed a little bit of concern for her when she was possessed, hinting that they might be inching toward a reconciliation- especially considering how obvious it was that Loki was gonna uncover the TVA’s sins eventually. There was so much potential for him to be the one to give her her memories back and convince her to change sides, but no, of course that honor went to Sylvie. In fact, after Sylvie showed up, Loki and B-15 never even spoke to each other again.

Various S*lki Fails

• If they were trying to convince us that this affection was mutual, they completely failed. There’s nothing I’ve seen that even hints at Sylvie feeling the same way about Loki that he does about her. At most, I’d say she has a slight endearment to him. She finds him likeable and she’s grudgingly fond of him, but she definitely isn’t in love with the guy. Maybe she thinks he’s cute and hopes that he gets out of this mess alright, but her mission obviously comes before him- whereas, it’s been confirmed multiple times that Loki cares about her above anything else. She doesn’t trust him, she looks at him like he’s an incompetent fool half the time, she shows little to no reaction during most of his confession moments, and she kissed him as a means to distract him so that she could get him out of her way. Look, all I’m saying is, when you get into a relationship where one of you is way more invested than the other, it never ends well.

• This goes without saying for a lot of us, but the selfcest is just straight up odd and cringey. If you’re cool with that sort of thing, fine! People can ship what they want! But don’t pretend it’s not at least a little bit uncomfortable. Yes, I know they’re not technically siblings so it’s not technically incest, and they’re also not technically the exact same person, but they’re similar enough that it makes things weird. And yes I know selfcest can’t happen in real life, so there’s no way to judge it morally, but neither can most of the other stuff that happens in these shows/movies (the Snap, Loki destroying jotunheim, superhero with powers being held accountable, mind control) and yet we still find ways to judge their morality, because they all mirror real-world events. (The snap= genocide; Loki destroying Jotunheim= bombing other countries; superhero accountability= weapons accountability; mind control= grooming and coercion). And lbr the closest real-world mirror to two versions of the same person (who may or may not share DNA, family, backgrounds, physical and emotion characteristics) being romantically involved with one another is incest. And you can be ok with that if you want- that’s your prerogative- but don’t get pissy just cause a lot of us are squicked out by it.

• The whole mirror metaphor (learning self love via each other) thing just fell completely flat. First of all, having Loki learn to love himself by looking at someone who mirrors him did not, in any way shape or form, require them to be romantically involved. But they were. Of course. Secondly, the creators have contradicted themselves so many times on whether Loki and Sylvie are the same or not, that it doesn’t even really register to the viewer that the mirroring thing was what they were going for. Finally, Loki and Sylvie are shown to have so little in common- and to have only the most bare minimum of similarities personality-wise- that it doesn’t even make sense that Loki would “learn to love himself through loving her”. Like? They’re nothing alike. So how would he make the connection that he himself is actually pretty cool, based on her alone? There’s virtually nothing in her that reflects him.

• I know the objective of the entire show was to convince us of how awesome and unique Sylvie is, but honestly her relationship with Loki just did the opposite. A hallmark of a Mary Sue is having her constantly upstage the male lead, and then having him instantly fall madly in love with her anyway. And that’s.. exactly what happened here. Everything they’re doing to try to force her character to be more stan-able is really just forcing her to look more like their self-insert OC. Which is exactly what she is. It would’ve been so much more satisfying if she didn’t have to try so hard to look cool, if they didn’t have to try so hard to make her backstory tear-inducing, if they didn’t have to turn our protagonist into a snivelling simp just to prove how incredible she supposedly is. Very much #GirlBoss energy and we all know how performative and cheap that is.

• The entire thing was too rushed, there was too little build-up, and it was nowhere near believable. As stated above, it’s ridiculously unlikely that Loki would canonically even be interested in Sylvie, and this show did nothing to explain why he was. He just suddenly was. There was nothing they showed us as viewers that would justify a guy as closed-off and preoccupied as Loki falling head-over-heels for a girl he just met. Their was no explanation, no big revelation, no reasoning, it just… kinda happened. And I’m also severely skeptical of any love story that has the characters go in this deep after only 3 45-minute episodes of exposition.

I’m sure there’s other stuff, so if anyone thinks of anything, let me know and I’ll be more than happy to add it. Tagging @janetsnakehole02 @raifenlf @natures-marvel and @brightredsunset800 for expressing interest. This is all your faults.

[swaps55]

This is for the Director’s Cut ask - I’d love to hear more about the part in Cantata where Shepard saves the underwater city. All the tech stuff and the process stuff AND the b-plots had me in awe, I can’t imagine what it was like to put it all together

Oh BOY the combat diving chapter, otherwise known as Head Full of Angels. I am thrilled you asked about it, because it’s a brilliant example of how amazing fandom is.

Again, I wrote so much more than you could possibly want to know, and I am very sorry.

This chapter was not in the original Cantata outline (so were a few other chapters that might surprise you, but I’ll get to those in another ask), and the entire reason it came about was this:

When I started writing Fall From Your Ladder, which is the first chapter that really talks about the N program, I figured it was time I come up with my version of the N program. What the hell do they put you through for N training? What does each level do to you? How long does it take? What do they learn? Well, as with most headcanons, I started with the codex, and this is what’s there:

Initially, candidates train for more than 20 hours per day, leading small combat teams through hostile terrain with little sleep or food. Trainees who do well are awarded an internal designation of N1 and are invited to return. Subsequent courses--N2 through N6--are often held off-planet and include instruction in zero-G combat, military free-fall (parachuting), jetpack flight, combat diving, combat instruction, linguistics, and frontline trauma care for human and alien biology.

I got to combat diving and went, ‘well that’s cool.’ Shepard can do hero shit underwater! I did some research on spec ops combat dive training, and was further intrigued.

Well, guess what? There is also this neat little planet you can stumble across in Mass Effect 1 called Proteus, which had this description:

Like the hanar homeworld, Proteus has more than 90% oceanic cover. The incredible heat thrown off from Athens raises global humidity to 100%, creates constant cloud cover, and powers colossal typhoons that rage across the surface year-round.

Hot, humid, and storm-wracked, Proteus' rare combination of oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere and carbon-based biosphere nevertheless recommend it for colonization. A pilot program is studying the possibility of colonies below the ocean surface, safe from the worst effects of the weather.

‘Huh,’ I thought. ‘Could I send Sam on a diving mission?’ Turns out, the Proteus codex info states a colony was founded in 2179, which fit my timeline.

Problem is, I don’t know shit about underwater colonies and combat diving in general. And of course, underwater colonies of this nature don’t exist yet, which is good and bad: good because I can make shit up, bad because I have to make shit up that sounds at least a little plausible. So I did enough research to land on ocean thermal energy conversion as a power source for prototype underwater habitats.

That’s when the magic happened.

I popped into one of my regular discord servers and asked if anyone knew anything about ocean thermal energy conversion, and if so, could they help me figure out how to use it to break an underwater colony so Shepard can fix it?

And that’s when personalmoniker raised his amazing hand and said, ‘it is my time to shine.’

This incredible person sat down with me, listened to my half-assed crazy idea, and not only came up with a challenge/solution I could use, but wrote an entire mission brief about it, complete with a sketch so I could visualize it.

I was floored. He even came up with a volus joke that I ended up incorporating into the fic:

“Lieutenant Červenka,” Song speaks up, eyes wide with worry. “That gear housing is near one of the ammonia lines.”

“Fuck. Er, damn. Ma’am.”

“No, fuck is right.”

“Explain,” Anderson demands.

“We use a hybrid-loop OTEC system,” she replies. “It pumps refrigerant between the surface and base stations to make the most of the thermal cycle. The byproduct is fresh water to supply the colony, and it gives us our primary oxygen source, but the refrigerant is bog-standard ammonia. Four lines run through the umbilical between the power plant and Ithaka, two in each direction. Damaging any of those lines is a surefire way to traumatically convert everyone on this station into something only a volus could love.”

Anderson grimaces.

“Can’t have that,” Shepard muses. “Sir, you wouldn’t look good in a volus suit.”

“Has no one ever told you you’re not funny, Shepard?”

“Not to my face.”

So I wrote a fucking combat diving story, because I had a ridiculous idea that a pocket friend was kind enough to help me pull off. Without him, there is no way that chapter gets written. Fandom is incredible.

Side note, this is also the chapter where the human terrorist organization that was originally just a throw away thing for a previous chapter became a plot point, because I needed a Bad Guy and they were convenient. XD

OH! And you wanted to know about the B plot, too!!

You're not gonna believe this, but that was actually harder than the combat diving.

So, I had a very tough question on my hands. Kaidan Alenko has just had his 'oh' moment. He has realized he's falling for his XO.

What does he do about that? How does he react or respond? This isn't the events of ME1 - there is no Saren and no reapers yet. The galaxy is not at stake, so the pressure to put the mission first is a lot less than it is in the trilogy.

HOW DOES KAIDAN HANDLE THIS? I couldn't have him think about transferring, or at least that couldn't be the focal point of the B plot, because I already knew he was going to deal with that question after Sharjila, which was already written. But if he doesn't seriously think about transferring, which felt like a very Kaidan think to do, why not?

Real Life Romance Option handed me the answer: Because he's happy. For the first time in years, Kaidan has found a place he belongs, just like Sam has. Just like the rest of the 'Yang marines have. And that's not something he would willingly give up.

So instead of Kaidan wrestling with how to escape falling for Sam, I instead had him realize that the home they have all accidentally built together is more important, and worth protecting - even if that means putting his feelings in a box. And if he makes that conscious decision to not act on those feelings, it's a lot easier understand how they go so long without acknowledging how they feel. It becomes habit, and that habit starts here.

It ended up dovetailing really nicely into Sam's plot, too. It's the first time we see him outside the 'Yang. Anderson was uniquely qualified to show us how much Sam has changed, because he knew Sam before the 'Yang. I couldn't believe how well the two things ultimately tied together.

[gumnut-logic]

This was going to suck.

Alan taxied Tracy Two into her hangar and groaned. Thunderbird Two was up on her struts, over module four, obviously undergoing a maintenance cycle. Virgil would be on the floor and he had no hope of avoiding his brother.

Not going to stop him from trying though.

Post flight, a grab of his bags and he was sneaking.

Stealth Tracy. He could do it.

First things first, locate Virgil.

From where he was standing there was no sight of him.

“Hey, Alan. Good trip?”

He jumped and dropped his bags. “Hell, Gordon, give a guy a heart attack.”

His fish brother raised his hands in defence. “Well, excuse me. Next time I’ll send you a morse code welcome from the other side of the Island so I don’t disturb you.”

Alan let out a sigh. “Okay, I’m sorry. Great to see you, too.”

And Gordon was staring at him. “Are you hiding?”

“Gor-“

“What happened to your face?” And his sunnies were ripped off his nose. “Ho, ha, this is gonna be great.”

He grabbed his glasses from his brother and shoved them back on his face. “Shut up, Gordon.”

“Does Virgil know?”

“No, and I’m trying to keep it that way, so shut up.”

His brother grinned at him and held out a hand. “For a price.”

“Price? What price?”

“Help me flush Four’s sanitary systems.”

“Aw, god, Gordon, no! I’m not cleaning up your shit.”

“Heh, then I’m going to go get Virg and have a discussion about your face.”

“Gordon, please.”

“Nope, sanitary flushing or embarrassed blushing.”

“You suck.” He glared at his brother. “I’m going to remember this. Next time Scott is after you, don’t bother coming to me for help.”

For the briefest of moments, Gordon’s eyes widened before he regained his composure. “We’ll see about that. Have fun with Virgil.” The aquanaut wandered off.

Aaargh, Gordon could be such a...

Something clattered on the concrete on the far side of the hangar. Alan shrunk into Tracy Two’s shadow.

Okay. Let’s do this.

Grabbing his bags he slipped along the edge of the hangar until he reached the module train. Creeping around the far side of module six, he peered out the around its backend.

Virgil was hanging from Two’s thruster assembly, head buried in a hatch.

Okay, he might just be able to manage this.

Stepping lightly as possible, he crept past his brother towards the elevator.

“Hey, Alan, welcome back.”

Damn.

“Uh, hey, Virg.” He refused to look up and just waved casually, his heart beating like crazy. Maybe those several metres up in the air would save him.

“Did you have a good time.”

“Had a blast. Brandon sure knows how to throw a party.”

“So I heard.”

Heard? “Uh, I’m a bit tired I’m just going to go upstairs and unpack.”

“See you at dinner.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, and Alan.”

“Yeah?”

“Nice sunnies.”

He almost looked up. Almost.

“Uh, thanks. See you later.”

Not if he could help it.

He beelined for the elevator. One annoying brother avoided...mostly...one more to go.

The elevator was blessedly cool and he leant against the silvery wall while the car carried him up to the residential levels. God, he hoped he could make it to his rooms. He felt hot and just ugh.

The elevator stopped just short of his destination.

Damn.

The doors opened and he held his breath.

Brains and Max entered and the ride resumed.

“Max, honestly, I d-do not know w-what you were thinking.”

The robot sputtered at his creator, beeping madly.

“But that was G-Gordon. You h-have an entire d-directive listing regarding his behaviour. Y-you know not to do everyth-thing he asks.”

Another impertinent beep.

“That is exactly why you h-have an entire d-directive listing!”

Apparently they hadn’t even noticed he was there.

The elevator slowed at his level and he made a point of edging around Brains. Max beeped at him, but Brains had fallen silent, chin on hand, elbow on wrist, as if posing for a sculptor.

Alan didn’t care, he just wanted out of there and  threw himself around the corner.

Straight into Scott.

“Woah! Allie, welcome back! Hey steady there.” He wouldn’t admit it, but despite what he knew was about to happen and the suffering that would follow, it was good to see his eldest brother.

And kinda nice to be held by him too.

“What’s with the sunglasses?” He could almost count it down in his head. He looked up at those mirror image blue eyes and let his shoulders drop. This was so gonna suck. “Alan? What’s wrong with your face?”

His brother held both of his shoulders and peered at him. A moment and one hand gently peeled off the sunglasses. “Oh my god, Alan. What were you thinking?”

He let out a sigh. So busted. Who was he kidding. This was inevitable. “I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

“That much is very clear. You are going to the infirmary now.”

“Aw, Scott it isn’t that bad.”

“You have blisters, Alan!”

“I have?” He hadn’t really looked in a mirror since he left the Gold Coast. Brandon, of course, had laughed at him. It hadn’t seemed that serious. A bit of sunburn was all.

That’s what you get when you party all day in the Australian sun and forget your sunscreen.

Though come to think of it, he was feeling rather hot.

“Virgil, drop everything and meet me in the infirmary.”

“Aw, not Virg, really?”

Scott wrapped an arm around Alan’s shoulders and started to herd him towards the elevator. “He is the most qualified.”

“But it is only sunburn.”

The elevator doors closed behind them.

“Alan, you know I know you know all the symptoms of exposure, so don’t even bother.”

The arm around his shoulders was very gentle.

Virgil was standing in front of the elevator as the doors opened. How the hell he had gotten there so fast...but the expression on his second oldest brother’s face told him everything.

He hadn’t managed to sneak past at all. Virgil had been following him.

Nice sunnies indeed.

Virgil approached quietly, not saying a thing. One large finger reached up under Alan’s chin and tilted his head up gently. The medic sighed and a worried frown creased his brow.

But he didn’t say anything.

Virgil let him go and led them out of the elevator and into the infirmary.

Alan climbed onto the bed as directed and waited for the lambasting. After all, he knew he had been an idiot, and deserved every word.

“Where else?” Brown eyes were looking at him in concern.

“What?” Damn, he was hot.

“Where else did you get burnt.

“Oh, arms, hands, feet...and maybe my hair? Feels like my hair is on fire.”

“C’mon, lay down.” Scott was suddenly shoving a pillow under his head. The pillow was lovely and cool. His shoes were gently taken off and that was a relief in itself.

Virgil took his temperature and frowned even more. A glass of something was handed to him and he was told to drink. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was obviously something medical. It was cool on his throat.

Grandma appeared and as with everything Grandma, it was fussing, hugs and, well,...love.

“Did Brandon know you were burnt this badly?” Something pricked his hand and he discovered Virgil had stuck him with an IV bag. Was that really necessary?

Gordon barrelled in. “Hey, Brandon has you on his vlog!” His brother held up his phone and all the family turned to watch.

And Alan saw himself for the first time.

Sunburn panda.

Omigod.

Very sunburnt panda.

In front of twenty odd million viewers.

“Thunderbird Five.” It was Commander Tracy who spoke.

His middle brother blinked into existence beside the bed. “What can I...Alan? What the hell?!”

“John, hack the Bear’s feed. I want those images gone.” John’s turquoise eyes lingered on Alan for a moment, before narrowing on the feed spouting from Gordon’s phone.

His voice was almost menacing in reply. “FAB.”

He blinked out.

Twenty seconds later, the Bear feed went offline. Rather abruptly.

Gordon was staring at Alan. “Allie, what the hell did you do to yourself?” Obviously the hangar had been dark enough to conceal at least a little of his colouring. “Blisters?”

Virgil was hovering with some kind of medicated cream in his hands. The next moment was absolute bliss as his brother applied the ever so cool, numbing wonderment to his face. He literally sagged into the bed.

“I was so, so stupid.”

“Yes, you were.” Virgil’s voice was a reassuring rumble. “But at least we know you won’t do it again.”

“No, no I won’t.”

John blinked in again and Alan found himself surrounded by his family. As Virgil started applying the cream to his feet, Alan suddenly wondered why he had been trying to hide from these people. Sure there would be nagging, perhaps some laughter and good natured ribbing, but...

Grandma reached over and draped a damp cloth over his hair. “Feeling a bit better, dear?”

“Yes, Grandma.” It was only a bit of sunburn, but... “Thank you, guys.”

“Don’t do it again.” Scott, as always worried.

“Look after yourself better, Alan.” Virgil, always caring.

“Don’t make me keep an extra eye on you.” John, always watching.

“A panda! I’ve always wanted to see a panda!” Gordon, always loving.

Grandma gently brushed a stray hair off his forehead. “Rest, honey.” Always Mom.

His family.

-o-o-o-

[kylorengarbagedump]

Defy Your Authority: Chapter 4

Read on AO3. Part 3 here. Part 5 here.

Summary: David Rose voice: Oh, my god!

Words: 3200

Warnings: dude

Characters: Kylo Ren x Reader

A/N: First: Thank you to @bastila-ren and @elmidol for their beta-kindness.

I'M ALIVE. I got super burned out at my job, took 5 weeks of FMLA, got incredibly depressed, but now I'm back! Very thankfully, my COVID symptoms were extremely mild. Thank you very very much for your well-wishes and your concerns.

I wish I could express enough apology for my lack of activity, but hopefully uploading a chapter is thanks enough. You all have been so supportive and kind to me. I am SO thankful and appreciative of everything y'all offer me!

(as a side note: I know some people do not like dude, that it throws them out. I am very sorry, but in the politest way possible: I am not going to stop using it. I like it too much.)

I also hope you enjoyed the chapter! God I wonder what's going to happen next chapter. I just don't know.

Love you all so much <3

“Piece of shit.”

Growling, you tugged out another panel from the silencer’s dash. At this point, about a dozen slats of buttons boxed you into the pilot’s seat, crowding you in the cockpit. All of them looked flawless upon inspection, and this new one was no exception. Wires were attached and the circuits were complete, every switch was grounded. You’d gone over a handful of systems already, trapped in this cockpit for hours. The silencer’s refusal to function made no sense. There had to be something you were missing. 

The memory of smoke and flames licked at the perimeter of your mind. Yeah, there was a lot you were missing.

Pain burrowed, opened a well in your chest, and you shook your head, rubbing your tired face. There wasn’t time to think about anything else. Sitting forward, you started reattaching the panels to the console. You needed to focus on this.  Even though the answer to where you’d go and what you would do once you were finished remained nebulous. Even though you were now apparently unknown and unloved by almost everyone in the universe, including the one man you’d waited on for months. 

You caught a sigh in your chest, exhaling into your palms, shutting out the urge to cry. Crying right now was a waste of time. You still had about fifty systems to check, and you’d only read through about half of Kylo’s post-flight novella. Swallowing, you grabbed your datapad from the seat and flipped to the report, forcing yourself through the urge to skim.

It wasn’t like you weren’t interested. Normally this sort of thing was like a buffet for your freakish little brain. But you kept tasting embers on your tongue. Kept seeing your crew--completely unarmed, helpless fuel outpost workers--drowning in destruction. Kept hearing Hux’s voice: Multiple Resistance fighters… Heat gripped your neck, clogged your throat. Multiple fighters for a tiny station. Multiple fighters against three soft, fleshy bodies.

The First Order was not your creed; just your employer. The machine of war had always been an inconvenience to the prestige of working on elite starfighters. You knew that the loss of three cogs was nothing to that machine. In the past, it’d been nothing to you too. But you’d never eaten meals or laughed with or supported those lost cogs when they’d cried. This loss wasn’t just to war. This loss was horrifically and uniquely yours. 

“Stop.” You shook your head, tossing your datapad back on the seat. You’d finish putting the console back together, then you’d figure out what to do next.

Jaw tight, you grabbed another panel, and your grip slipped. The sharp edge sliced your palm where the wood had lanced you earlier.

“Fuck!” You dropped it and clutched your hand, seething while you tried to squeeze away the agony. Everything from your fingers to your wrist throbbed, and your chin quaked, tears burning your sight. “Fuck! Fuck!” Snarling, you kicked the panels at your feet. “Fuck!”

The thin cut felt like a sobbing gash. You tore off your jacket and wrapped the sleeve around your palm, wincing when you tightened it to the wound. 

“Stupid fucking panels!” you growled, kicking the panels again. “Stupid fucking ship, stupid fucking Kylo, stupid fucking Resistance!” The final kick dented a panel, popped off a shiny button. “Gods!”

You covered your face in your jacket and screamed until your throat crackled, until your lungs were dry. Head spinning, you drew in a breath and screamed again, stomping the floor until dizziness dropped you into the pilot’s chair. Warmth glowed at your cheeks, leaked down your back. Tremors rippled to your toes as you took in a long, steadying breath, exhaling in reluctant relief. 

You considered sitting there forever. But it only took two seconds for you to remember how Kylo also sat in this chair thinking of and dealing with everything that wasn’t you before you grunted and climbed out of the cockpit. 

The rest of the hangar seemed wholly unconcerned or otherwise ignorant to your tantrum. Wiping your eyes, you hopped to the ground, wagging off the lingering fury in your limbs. Maybe you just needed a walk. You cleared your throat and kept your hand clutched to your chest, the whispering ache pulsing in rhythm with your heart.

In all the hours you’d been in the cockpit, the Steadfast had continued to orbit Orinda. Xi-class shuttles whirled beyond the hangar entrance--probably staffed with crew collecting reconnaissance from whatever the Resistance left behind from the attack. Your feet carried you to the fuzzy blue edge of the magnetic shield’s barrier, meters from vacant space. A quiet hum resonated from its perimeter through your soles. 

You gazed into the galaxy. Orinda was a glimmering grain of sand, adrift in the celestial trenches. A fuel outpost turned graveyard. An acceptable casualty of the Resistance. Another home where you couldn’t return. That whispering ache rumbled to a hiss and cast itself over your skin, raking it over with misery, with exhaustion. Your chin quivered. The only place you could think to sleep was the silencer. Eyes falling to the floor, you turned back to the hangar.

“My quarters.”

You squealed and jumped, clapping your hands to your chest. Feet away stood Kylo Ren.

“Shit!” you said, exhaling in relief. “How the hell do you do that?” When he said nothing, you continued, “Like, sneak up on me like that.” 

“You’re not perceptive.”

You frowned. “Okay, well…” He wasn’t wrong. You sighed, shrugged. “Anyway.”

Kylo stepped forward, assessing you in your tank top, scrutinizing the tourniquet you’d made of your jacket. “Your hand.” 

“It’s fine,” you said, holding it behind your back. “Your quarters?”

His stare lingered on your exposed shoulders, on your neck. “Stay,” he said. “Until the silencer is repaired.”

“That could be as early as next cycle.” 

“Given your skill, yes.”

It was difficult to look in his direction. Every worn nerve screamed for his touch. “And then what?”

“You’ll depart to another station.”

You tried to flush the pain from your voice. “So,” you said, “you want me to stay with you through, like, one cycle, and then leave.” You looked to the ceiling in faux-consideration. “Cool. I think I’ll pass.” 

Kylo’s eye twitched. He moved closer, tone icy. “You have nowhere to sleep,” he said. “I…” He paused. His tongue rolled in his mouth. “You mean to tell me you prefer the silencer.”

“Well,” you replied, “I’ve never fucked the silencer. I never told the silencer how I felt about it. The silencer has never treated me like a stranger who just walked off the plains of Lothal.” You tapped your chin. “So, yeah, I prefer the silencer.”

He grit his teeth. “You’re no stranger.”

“Sure could’ve fooled me!” A couple of heads turned in your direction.

“Quiet,” he hissed. “It apparently takes very little for you to be fooled.”

“Excuse me?” you replied. “Run that by me again, Supreme Leader?”

“Now your hearing fails you.”

“This is great.” You offered a false smile. “This conversation is going really well.”

Kylo snarled, shoulders bunching with restraint. “You speak this way and then question why you’re unwelcome,” he replied. “Deaf and foolish.”

“Oh!” A frustrated laugh escaped. “Okay, then. Talk to you later, Your Excellency. I need a nap before I keep trying to fix your dumbass ship.”

Shaking your head, you folded your arms over your chest and stormed past him, anger blurring your vision. Stupid fucking asshole--

You made it three steps before a warm leather glove grabbed your shoulder, and you stalled, goosebumps shooting to your hands. Kylo spun you, your face inches from his, your breath fleeing and forgetting to return. His lips trembled, his jaw tightened, his gaze boring into you before it met the floor, seeking to stare anywhere else. The pressure of his fingers was firm, then floating. And then he swallowed, grip crushing your shoulder, his eyes finding you again. 

No one else in the hangar would’ve known, looking at him. But this Kylo Ren was familiar to you. 

This Kylo Ren was terrified.

“I don’t…” His voice was a feather in the air. “You are…” He averted his attention, stiffening. “You have a home.”

Your chest swelled. Water stung your eyes. “I do?”

“Yes,” he replied, utterly sincere. “But not here. Not now.”

Hairline fractures crept into your heart.

“Kylo.” Your composure cracked. All of you wanted to melt, to disintegrate into his being and know each word trapped on his tongue. There was a reason you could not find him, that he would not unfold himself to you. “Please. Why do you want me gone so badly?”

His lips parted, as if he were about to speak--and he paused. He drew in a breath through his nose. “Complications,” he replied. “Factors you do not understand.”

You stepped closer, throat tight. His breath brushed your nose. “Tell me, then.”

Kylo huffed, shifting on his feet--and his face froze. His limbs locked, muscles taut. His gaze widened, fixated on something over your shoulder. Air leaked from him, like time was slowing to a close. You blinked, looked behind you. But nothing was there. 

Frowning, you cleared your throat. “Kylo?” He didn’t even acknowledge you. “You’re really just going to leave it like that?” 

His pupils were pinpricks.

It wasn’t like you were heartless. You knew that he was attempting wasn’t easy. But what you were feeling wasn’t a sail on a skiff either. You didn’t just deserve more. You needed it.

“Okay,” you said, backing out of his hold. “This was nice. But I have a TIE fighter to repair. So.” He didn’t respond. Didn’t even move. “Whatever.”

You turned--Kylo’s focus flicked to you. His mouth dropped, like there were words he wanted to and couldn’t speak. Instead, he remained silent, fury simmering in his gaze while you pivoted away. You didn’t say anything either. You didn’t think you had to.

When you arrived at the silencer, you clambered into the cockpit, like it was a hole you could hide in until he disappeared. Shame, stubbornness, or surrender--you imagined one of these was responsible for why he didn’t pursue you, but you didn’t care. This ship repair would be your parting gift to him, and you could take off, probably spending the rest of your life wondering how you’d managed to fuck up your affair with the galaxy’s most ineligible bachelor.

Loose panels still swarmed the pilot’s chair. You sighed and put on your jacket, settling in and throwing your feet on the dash. Your hand thumped with irritation as you closed your eyes.

Just a couple of hours. That’s all you needed. Then you’d keep working like the foolish little--

Clank.

You yelped, flinching in your seat. 

Clank.

Heart fluttering, you scanned the cockpit before realizing the noise came from outside the ship.

Clank.

It was behind you. Someone was messing with the refuel port. Or the solar lines. You couldn’t tell. Grumbling, you scrambled out of the chair and hoisted yourself up the escape. If they were fucking up this stupid ship even further--

Clankclankclank.

“Hey!” You popped your head free. “Will you...”

For a split second, you’d thought Kylo had decided to rip the solar line access open and tear into his own power supply. But then your vision focused. The man crouched over the ship was a different intimidating masked man dressed only in black. Your stomach twisted. It was the one from the Buzzard. The one who’d shoulder-checked you.

“Kuruk.”

His head whipped in your direction, the talons of his predator’s gaze gouging your chest. He pulled his hands free of the solar lines, his gloves greasy with reactant.

“Lieutenant.” 

Previously you’d thought absolutely no one but Hux could spit that word with that degree of acidity. But if Hux spat it like acid, then Kuruk hocked it--dragged it up through his throat and sputtered it like necrotic phlegm. 

You crawled onto the dorsal plane with the coordinated majesty of a blurrg, trying not to heave  and ruin any level of authority you might have tricked him into thinking you maintained. When you’d made it to both feet, you straightened, as if you did this all the time, and moved toward him.

“What are you doing?” 

“Repairing a starfighter.”

You snorted. “Really,” you replied. “Tearing out a power supply is repairing?”

Kuruk jerked his arm, wrenching free another line, spewing collector dust into the air. “Closer to repairing than sleeping in the cockpit.”

Heat rushed your spine, swathed your neck. “Yeah, well…” You examined him, watching as he cocked his head to avoid the blinders attached to his helmet. “At least I can see properly when I work on a ship.” 

“Magnification’s built into the visor.”

More heat, this time crackling in your cheeks, drying your tongue. “Look,” you said, “this is my job. I don’t need amateurs screwing it up for me.”

He paused, turned his gaze on you again. “Amateurs?”

You shrugged. “In comparison, yeah, probably.”

Kuruk leaned on his heels, wiping his gloves on his jacket. “I don’t think so.”

“Uh, I do.” This man looked like a weapon. Not an engineer. “What experience do you have?”

“It’s called the Night Buzzard,” he replied. “You might be familiar with it.”

You paused, brow raising. “You…” It was impossible to restrain your laughter. But he didn’t move. “You’re kidding. Right? That’s a joke.”

Kuruk’s hands tensed.

“Dude, that ship’s the ugliest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” you replied. “Did you modify it with a boiled chokeroot?”

His head tilted. He rose to stand, so controlled he looked to be fighting gravity. “I can do more work with a boiled chokeroot than you can do with an entire Star Destroyer’s worth of resources,” he drawled. “Lieu. Tenant.” 

The hair on your nape stuck straight, your pulse leapt to the ceiling. But the knowledge that Kylo was within thinking distance abated your fear. 

“Might wanna get one then.” You grinned. “You’re not making much progress here without it.”

He stared, filthy fingers furling into fists--and then relaxed, the tension sloughing like reactor slime from his frame. Silent, he returned to a squat, rending more lines from their channels. For some reason, a tiny, irreverent part of you was disappointed. 

No, that was a lie. You knew why you were disappointed. But this man wasn’t the one you wanted to be taunting into a wild sexual rage. Exhaling, you crossed your arms. 

“It’s still my job,” you said.

“And I’ve been told that once it’s done, you’ll be gone.”

“What?” You gawked. “What the fuck? You, too? I didn’t even do anything to you!”

“Debatable.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re mad because your Master didn’t want you to disrespect an officer.”

“No.” Kuruk’s attention snapped to you. “You’re loud.”

Blood drained from your face. “I’m…”

Moments blinked in your memory like a holodrama. Like how you’d spent the entire time aboard the Buzzard thinking about Kylo slamming you against the dashboard and breaking your pussy open. How you’d mentally undressed him, verbally taunted him, physically ached for him. How you’d blazed with hatred for him and stoked it with longing. And how you’d just noted that you were desperate to wind him into a state of frenzied lust so he’d wreck you entirely.

“Oh, fuck.” You glanced at the hangar’s entrance and wondered how quickly you could hurl yourself into the vacuum of space. Speaking of hurling… “Oh, fuck.”

You couldn’t spare Kuruk another glance. With shaking hands, you fumbled your way to the ground, steadying yourself on your weakening knees. There was no way you were going to spend another minute on this ship trying to fix a starfighter while getting thought-eavesdropped by multiple men, one of whom seemed hell-bent on doing your job for you anyway. 

All you needed to do was find General Hux and get him to reassign you to another station. You’d figure the rest out later when you had time to process your myriad of losses and crippling rejection. You held your breath the entire trek to the command center, only releasing when the doors opened and you spied Hux at the head of the room, briefing someone on something you didn’t care about. 

Wiping your forehead, you trudged over to him. Hux’s gaze darted between you and the other officer, his brow furrowing as you approached.

“A moment,” he said to the man. “Can I help you, Lieutenant?”

Yeah, it definitely sounded worse out of Kuruk’s mouth. “Can I get a new station? I, uh, I need a new station.” The officer peered at you in horror. You coughed, standing at attention. “General. Requesting a new assignment, sir.”

Hux’s lips pursed, his eyes narrowed. “The silencer is already repaired?”

“Uh, no. No, sir, it’s not.” You stared at your shoes. “Still requesting a new assignment. I believe my work here is complete.”

A pause hung in the air. Hux observed you like you were a recently apprehended criminal. He sighed. 

“Dismissed, Captain.” He waited for the man to depart before turning to you. “What do you mean, your work here is complete?”

It was hard to find the appropriate words. “I mean. Uh. Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“No.”

You groaned. “Okay.” A long breath, flooding your lungs with air. “Well. My services are no longer required. My presence is redundant. I cannot return to Orinda. I’m requesting another station.” You exhaled. “Sir.”

Hux’s pink face pinched together. “Something happened with Ren.”

Warmth flushed your neck. “Uh, no--”

“Lieutenant,” he said, like the words were thorns on his tongue, “I unfortunately believe your insight and skill may still be of use to the First Order.” 

“Sir?”

“The TIE project has been approved. You may be just the person to manage it.” 

You balked. “Oh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea--”

“No?” Sharp green eyes pierced you into silence. “I thought you might leap at the opportunity, considering how cruelly the Resistance slaughtered your staff.”

Your heart clenched, your chest speared with pain. Better TIE units wouldn’t save them. But you could at least ensure their loss wouldn’t be in vain. Though you’d never supervised an undertaking of that scale before, the excitement of a challenge glittered in the distance. Glittered, then dimmed under a brooding, Kylo Ren-shaped shadow.

“Well…”

Hux glanced away, gazing through the thick panes of transparisteel, as if offering you any more praise would blind him. “Go to the Supreme Leader. Inform him of my plans.” He offered a slight shrug. “If he disagrees, then so be it. We’ll find you a new station.” The thought was left unfinished--he seemed very confident Kylo would not disagree.

Too bad you disagreed with him. “Yes, sir,” you replied. “I understand. Where might I find the Supreme Leader?”

Hux frowned. “Am I his keeper, Lieutenant?” 

A brief, blissful image of your fist connecting with his chin flashed through your mind. You shook it away.

“No,” you said. “No, sir. I’ll find him. Thank you.”

He nodded. “Dismissed.”

Shooting him a glare, you pivoted on your heel, marching out of the command center. All you needed to do was find where Kylo Ren might be by searching the entirety of this huge Star Destroyer. That would be easy.

[sassyhobbits]

Could we get the scene where Aelin and Rowan learn they're pregnant in ONS, please? 🥰 (and maybe a little glimpse at them deciding to try?)

my literal pleasure. i hope you like it!

~~~

Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius of Terrasen hadn’t believed that it was possible to reach the levels of bliss she currently experienced. Being married to Rowan was truly a gift. Her husband continuously made her happier with each passing day.

Tonight had been their two year wedding anniversary. They had celebrated by renting out a nice restaurant in downtown Orynth for just the two of them. They had eaten and laughed and reminisced while enjoying wonderful wine. Now, they were back at the palace, laying in bed, tangled in the sheets after making love.

Everything was perfect. Their life together was perfect.

Aelin’s head rested on Rowan’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart and breathing in his pine and snow scent. His fingers stroked her hair, legs tangled within her own. It was paradise. There was nothing more she could want.

Well… there was one thing she could want.

It was an idea that had been swirling around her head for the past few months or so, but she had yet to voice it to the man at her side. She knew in her gut that it was what she wanted, but it wasn’t something they had discussed yet. And it worried her what would happen if they weren’t on the same page about it.

Aelin’s arms wrapped tighter around her husband. “Ro?”

“Yes, Fireheart?”

Her mouth opened, but the words faltered on her lips. She sat up, allowing Rowan to look her in the eyes. He wore a beautiful, serene, smile on his face, but a furrow formed between his brows as he took a look at her expression, cupping her jaw and skimming his thumb over her cheekbone.

“What is it, Aelin?”

She sucked down a deep breath, looking into the eyes of the man she loved, before she opened her mouth. “I want to have a baby.”

Aelin’s heart hammered beneath her ribs, biting her bottom lip and waiting for her husband to respond. She could normally read Rowan like the back of her hand, but she couldn’t quite pin down exactly what was going through his head. 

Aelin knew what happened to Lyria, knew that Rowan’s previous fiancé had been pregnant when she had passed. She knew that knowledge would forever weigh on Rowan. The topic of children had yet to come up between them. 

Rowan sat up, taking one of Aelin’s hands within his own and holding it against his chest. 

“You want to have a baby?” Rowan whispered.

Aelin nodded. “Yes. I do. I’m ready… if you are.”

There were a few beats of silence where Aelin could have heard a pin drop, waiting for her husband to give his response. 

And then Rowan smiled. A wide, full smile that split his entire face and made his green eyes sparkle. He released a bright laugh and nodded.

“Yes. I think we’re ready to have a baby.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Yes. Of course.” 

Aelin laughed and lunged forward, throwing her arms around Rowan’s shoulders and kissing him deeply. Her husband swept her up against her, holding her firmly. 

For a few more moments, they held one another and kissed, whispering how much they loved one another. Eventually, they pulled back and rested their foreheads against one another’s. 

“So…” Aelin murmured. “You ready to start trying?”

Rowan chuckled. “Now?”

“What? You worn out already, old man?”

The sparkle in Rowan’s eyes was dangerous. He didn’t hesitate before slanting his mouth over hers and laying back down on the bed. 

The idea of a child was exciting, but Aelin would sure as hell enjoy the path to get there.

…

A whirlwind six months passed by. 

Aedion and Lysandra were married. It was a beautiful ceremony and Aelin was fairly certain she cried the entire time, immensely happy to see her cousin and her best friend so happy. Lorcan and Elide finally got engaged and were currently in the throes of planning their own wedding. Aelin knew Rowan took delight in how it tortured Lorcan. 

Aelin knew she shouldn’t take it so hard when each month passed and she had yet to get pregnant. She remembered her mother saying that it took her a while to conceive as well. Aelin had gone to the doctor a few days after she and Rowan decided to try for a baby to ensure everything was well. After she had been injured by the bullet all those years ago, the doctors had assured her that everything would be fine. She had just wanted to be sure. Once again, her gynecologist told her that she was completely healthy, that sometimes it just took time. 

Still… it was hard not to get disappointed every month when her cycle came around.

Aelin muffled her groan into her pillow as her alarm rang out for the third time. She continued to snooze it, not quite feeling her best. She knew she needed to get up and get herself somewhat ready before Lysandra got here to do her makeup and get her dressed before her appearance today. They were opening another facility for the Ashryver Institute and Aelin would be there for the grand opening. She would give a speech, pose for some photos… 

Aelin reached across the bed, hands searching for the warm body that was normally next to her, but finding nothing but cool sheets. Every morning for the past four days, she woke up forgetting that her husband was currently across the sea in Doranelle, visiting his family. 

Gods, it hadn’t even been a week and she missed him so badly. Pathetic. But she loved him.

Aelin sat up, rubbing at her eyes, which grew wide when she was suddenly hit was an overwhelming wave of nausea. 

She sprung out of bed and rushed to the bathroom, knees barking in pain against the tile as she fell before the toilet and lost the contents of her stomach.

She hurled until she had nothing left inside of her, slumping over and trying to catch her breath. Good gods, she felt like shit. Where the hell had this come from? She had felt completely fine last night.

There was a knock on her door and then the sound of a brisk, heeled walk that Aelin instantly recognized. 

“Aelin, honey? You in here?” Lysandra called.

“Bathroom,” Aelin rasped out.

The footsteps came closer and Lysandra peeked her head into the bathroom, looking as stunning as ever. Her delicate face fell as she saw Aelin.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Aelin assured her, flushing the toilet. She pushed to her shaky feet and lumbered over to the sink, splashing some cool water into her face. “Just felt nauseous all of the sudden.”

Lysandra ran a soothing hand down the silk on the back of Aelin’s nightgown. “Did you not feel well last night?”

“No, I felt fine last night.”

Lysandra’s hand stilled on her back, her green eyes catching hers in the mirror. 

“What?” Aelin asked worriedly. “What’s that look for?”

“Aelin…” Lysandra whispered. “When was your last period?”

The princess opened her mouth, at first certain that nothing was out of the ordinary but… she was late. It hadn’t crossed her mind with how busy she had been for the past month with setting up the opening of the Ashryver Institute but… her skin had been looking amazing recently. Glowing. She had originally thought maybe a few of her tops had shrunk, but maybe her boobs had gotten bigger. 

“Holy shit,” Aelin hissed, swooping down beneath the sink and grabbing the box of pregnancy tests they kept stored beneath. “Do you think…?”

“Just fucking do it!” Lysandra ordered. 

Aelin sprung into action, heart pounding in her chest as she did what needed to be done. 

The princess paced back and forth across the rug covering the tile floor, running her fingers through her hair. Lysandra had a timer on her phone, which finally chimed, causing Aelin to freeze in her tracks.

“Oh gods,” Aelin squeaked, dragging her hands down her face. “I can’t look.”

“Do you want me to do it for you?” Lysandra offered. 

All Aelin could do was give a meek nod. 

Aelin could have sworn that time froze when Lysandra picked up the little plastic test and held it up to her eyes. She watched her friend’s expression with bated breath, searching for any small shift in expression. But it wasn’t small. It was huge.

Lysandra gave a ridiculously large grin before slapping a hand over her mouth. 

“What does it say!?” Aelin demanded shrilly.

Lysandra flipped the test around before cheering, “I’m going to be an aunt!”

Aelin felt her eyes well with burning tears, placing a hand over her heart. “I’m- I’m pregnant?”

“You’re pregnant!”

Aelin began crying in earnest as Lysandra swept her up in her arms and embraced her. It wasn’t long before Lysandra was shedding tears right along with her. 

“Oh gods, I need to tell Rowan!” Aelin gasped, wiping at her eyes. 

“When does he get back?”

“Two days.” Aelin bit at her lip. “Gods, I’m so excited I don’t even know if I can wait.”

“You have to! This isn’t over the phone news!”

She was right, of course, but Aelin was still buzzing. She had no idea how she was going to get through the opening today, not when her heart was dancing in her chest like it was. Aelin detangled herself from Lysandra, turning to her side and looking at her still-flat stomach in the mirror. She put her hand on it, at the little life growing there. 

She couldn’t wait to meet them.

…

Aelin wasn’t sure how she got through the next two days. The opening of the new facility luckily kept her busy and didn’t allow her time to think about the baby or calling her husband. She swore Lysandra to secrecy about the pregnancy. No one else could know before Rowan did. Aedion, however, was a perceptive little shit and realized that the two girls were keeping a secret. It drove him insane that they wouldn’t tell him.

Lysandra had taken her to the doctor, just to confirm what the test had told them. Yes. Aelin was undoubtedly pregnant.

Aelin was thankful for the time difference between Orynth and Doranelle, leaving her and Rowan with little time to communicate. Normally, she hated that factor of travel. Now, it had become her saving grace. The most they talked were brief stories and I love you exchanges. 

Rowan’s flight was getting in late that night. Aelin had told herself that she would stay up until he got home, but fatigue got the better of her. She ended up dozing off on the bed, still dressed in a comfy sweater and leggings.

At least she was woken up pleasantly, with a brush of soft kisses on her jaw and cheek and the scent of her husband enveloping her.

“Rowan?” Aelin grumbled, peeling her eyes open and sitting up. She smiled sleepily as she saw him. He seemed a little tired as well, but still handsome. Always handsome. “You’re home.”

“I am.” Rowan sat down beside her on the bed, giving her a long, slow kiss. “I missed you.”

Aelin melted into the kiss, leaning closer to Rowan’s warmth. “I missed you more.”

They indulged in a few more slow, lazy kisses before Rowan pulled back. His eyes scanned her, the clothes she still wore and the bed she hadn’t bothered to get fully into. “Were you waiting up for me?”

“I tried to, at least. I’ve just been really sleepy lately.”

“You’ve been working hard.”

“That’s… that’s not the only reason.”

Rowan’s brows furrowed. He moved a bit closer, scanning her from head to toe as if he'd find some sort of ailment. "Are you alright? Did something happen?"

"Yes, something happened but-" Aelin cut herself off with a tiny laugh. "I think it's better if I show you."

She reached towards the bedside table and opened the drawer, pulling out a little box wrapped with a Terrasen green and silver bow. She handed the box to Rowan, who raised a brow at her as if to say I didn't forget a birthday, did I?

Aelin shook her head at him. Just open it, you brute. 

Rowan complied, undoing the bow and lifting the top off the box. He carefully peeled back the decorative paper wrapping in which Aelin had wrapped the positive pregnancy test.

Rowan froze, staring at the test as if he couldn’t trust his own sight. His gaze turned to her, eyes wide and disbelieving and cautious, as if waiting for her to say it was a joke. But all Aelin could do was smile so widely her cheeks hurt. 

“Aelin…” Rowan whispered, those green eyes that she loved so much beginning to glisten. “Are… are you…?”

“I’m pregnant, Rowan,” she finished for him. “I’m pregnant.”

Rowan released a short, joyful laugh, placing the box down beside him on the bed before kissing Aelin soundly. She laughed and smiled against his lips as she cried, certain her husband was as well. 

“We’re having a baby,” Rowan murmured, almost as if he were still trying to convince himself it was happening.

“We are.” Aelin placed her hand over her stomach, looking at it fondly. “I still can’t believe it.”

Rowan reached out, covering the back of her hand with his own. He kissed her temple. “Me neither.”

“I’m so excited. But also terrified.”

Her husband chuckled. “So am I. But, I know that we can do this. Together.”

“To whatever end,” Aelin murmured. She tilted her face up towards Rowan, kissing him again. “I love you.”

Rowan wrapped her up in his arms, holding her close. Aelin never felt more content than when they were like this. He kissed her again once, twice, hand on her stomach the entire time. 

“I love you too, Fireheart.”

[variousqueerthings]

thinking about these awesome tags from @catzy88​ and wanted to just speak to essentially what they talk about and one of my favourite writing choices of the show (so far, considering my predictions for what’ll happen moving forward):

and it’s Johnny’s two-steps-forward-one-step (sometimes several steps) -back journey. 

1. Introduction

there’s a few of things that happen on the show that get wrapped up in a semi-fantastical/wish-fulfilmenty way (Miguel recovering from his back injury like he does, Daniel sorting out his dealership problems with Doyona, etc.) and I’m not mad about it, it fits in with the generally optimistic tone of the show + various circumstances that surround these choices, so they’re not one-note writing decisions - 

ex. aftermath of Miguel’s surgery will continue to be explored on s4 so it’s not done and over with without consequences versus the way Daniel’s journey to Okinawa is about healing in various ways, so that deus ex machina fits in with the tone of that storyline. People’s mileage probably vary, but I think it’s all relatively well-balanced (pun not intended) with the deeper, less-easily-fixable issues and character dynamics that the show explores.

2. Johnny’s Story

If everything on this show were easy it wouldn’t be so watchable. Which is where Johnny comes in (amongst other characters, but I’m gonna focus).

in contrast Johnny’s journey for three seasons has had a lot of good intentions - help Miguel, get his life in order, forgive and forget the past, mend his relationship with Robby, be generally better to himself and others - and the majority of it’s gone pretty badly. 

I have predictions that there’ll be a flip in s4 and Daniel’s going to spiral more obviously, while Johnny’s going to be healing/functioning somewhat better. I also think it’s important to show him failing despite being in a better place than end season 2/beginning season 3. And failing again. And failing again. 

Johnny (and Daniel, but I shall focus!) doesn’t come onto this show with easily fixed issues. He’s likely been an alcoholic since he was in his 20s, he’s isolated to the extreme, he can’t hold down a job, he’s still under the thumb of his stepdad, and his relationship to Robby is non-existent at best. 

In 100 different ways he’s trapped and he’s so trapped that he can’t even envision being less trapped. Starting the dojo is a fluke, combined by meeting and saving Miguel and wanting to spite Daniel. He’s not planning on “getting better,” hell, he doesn’t even think that he has a problem that can be fixed to begin with. Up until this moment life has largely just happened to him and his decisions have been reactionary (and if there were times we don’t know about before now where he tried, he obviously failed)

His thinking clearly goes something like this: “I’ll make this kid not get beat up... and I guess now I’ve got a business so I need other kids? and now I care about this kid I guess, oh and his mom’s pretty nice (and pretty) too... and now I’ve got a business I can buy Sid out, that’s cool... ” etcetcetc. (still reactionary to an extent, although that gradually changes) right up until the tournament happens and he starts to have to face some of the shit he’s been telling these kids and Robby’s with Daniel and Kreese has reappeared...

I’d argue it’s not until mid-ish season 2, when Kreese reveals he’s homeless and Johnny decides that their forgiveness is tied into one another and especially when Tommy dies (still got one thing I don’t... time) that he actually really starts thinking about what all of this means for him longterm, that he can and should want for the future and that he has real responsibilities to do so because of others. It’s also the first time he properly admits that it’s not just “the tournament as a single event,” but the whole philosophy that he was taught that fucked him up (which is scary, because then he’s gotta admit a whole bunch of other stuff - that he has deep-rooted issues and that he needs to try to get better. That he’s both a victim and a perpetrator of this cycle. That just saying things are shit and won’t ever change won’t cut it anymore).

And just as he begins this thought-process and is incredibly vulnerable because of that everything goes to hell.

All of the structures Johnny had been building were on sand, right up to the choice to handshake deal on the dojo, and they all come crashing down spectacularly all at once in the season 2 finale.

Back to square one.

3. Square one (but not really)

This is amazing! It’s giving us a narrative on top of the more fantasy-like narratives that goes: “Not everything can be fixed easily just because we want to fix them,” and, “some things need to fail so that the next time you try, you try better!”

It’s not square one at all. 

A whole bunch of shit that Johnny was carrying with him without being able to voice in the first season is now out there, in the open. The ugliness needs to be exposed before it can be healed and (as myself and so many people who’re dealing with xy and z know) when you first “discover” what’s fucked up you can feel like everything’s worse. Your ability to deal with that thing can get a whole lot worse. 

Johnny relapses into a version of himself that on the surface looks even worse than in s1, but actually he’s way more open to change, he’s got reasons to get back up again, even if it takes a moment for him to pull himself together to actually do that. It takes pretty much all of season 3 for him to get there (and that was necessary too), but now he’s there he can start from a much stronger place than he previously did.

And there’s so much he’s still not facing - can you imagine the fallout when he has to deal with being an alcoholic? 

Johnny as a character has made so many mistakes (note: I’m not a fan of using the word “fault” as a descriptor for characters (as in “whose fault is X”) because they’re fictional and it’s more about motivations than tracing faults) and those mistakes make a whole lot of sense to his character - a broke, drunk, traumatized guy with more failings under his belt than you can count. 

I confess, I’m not sure how I feel about him not visiting Robby in juvie from a writing perspective, however it’s on the show, so now we get to analyse how it can make sense - which, considering that Johnny isn’t good at prioritising - and as an ADHD that’s a mood - it can totally work. Is it very bad? Yes. Does it sound like something Johnny would do when faced between an easy-fix of his relationship with the Diaz family and his much more difficult and complicated relationship with Robby? Sigh, yeah... unfortunately parenting Robby is the biggest fear he has... it’s not pretty, but it’s not meant to be...

4. Anyway, TL;DR 

I’d have felt cheated if Johnny could just magically “become” better - both mentally and in his relationships to others. He’s made big mistakes, has a lot of unresolved mental health issues, and - ironically - has chosen flight over fight for so much of his life that “simply wanting to become better” being  enough of a motivator to change all of that around would’ve been unrealistic for his character and unsatisfying for a longterm plot in which we see how difficult it is and (hopefully) get to revel in the continued upwards journey despite that.

Also it would’ve been kind of insulting to these journeys in real life (to do a little conflating for a moment). 

Trying to make good is admirable, but it sure isn’t easy and it won’t always work, especially if you don’t know where to even start.

The joy of his story is in seeing someone continue to try despite that.