#god technology has moved fast

[lilbit-of-kizzy]

I'm watching some of the "older" Doctor Who (2006) and them freaking out, over ads that talk with proximity, and geeking out over the latest "ear pods" (ooo what are thooose???) is just...kinda hilarious and sobering 😅 even when I watched these originally, in the early '10s, that was basically unheard of technology

[oozeandgoo-art]

had an odd dream that i was reading a comic book. sketched a couple of the pages i could remember.

[filipinoizukuu]

i headcanon that sakura is like... one of those few people with immense control over their body to the point where its kinda scary.

he says all the time to anyone mentioning it that he's good for nothing but his fists and fighting, but i really believe that he's the kind of guy where like... anything he tries to do, he can get good at it and pick it up REALLY quickly. he's an incredibly fast learner (exhibit a, the pre-noroshi training arc) and also has really good control over his physicality (exhibit b, his signature move where he turns a fall into a handstand kick).

the boys in class 1-1 constantly get him to play games and sports with them because of bonding reasons, and sakura always gets uneasy because he never had anyone to play with growing up. so they all kinda have to teach him every sport except it backfires because he always gets CRAZY GOOD at them REALLY EASILY.

basketball? despite the height disadvantage, it takes less than a day for sakura to master dribbling and passes + he's crazy accurate even from the 3 point mark. volleyball? call him hinata shoyo because he has an INSANEEEE vertical for spiking. baseball? a lot of stupid rules to learn and easy to get wrong, but sakura knows his way around a bat for sure. soccer? absolutely massacres the field no survivors left. anzai is crying in the corner. kiryu (goalie) is dead.

and it pisses them off to no end because sakura has NO BUSINESS being good at all these things! its not even that he's instantly great at anything he tries, but rather because he learns INSANELY QUICKLY and can commit a movement to muscle memory within a couple of days. thank god furin doesnt have a sports festival because nirei is absolutely certain that sakura would sweep the floor with the first years and leave no crumbs.

it applies to other things too. one day sakura either stumbles upon or hangs out with shishitoren and he gets the opportunity to ask tomiyama how he did that insane flip against umemiya. hes really shy to ask bc he did go around acting as if he knew how to emulate choji's crazyass acrobatics before promptly eating shit on the asphalt. choji, obviously always wanting to have fun, teaches sakura some moves

"well it's not as easy as it looks, but i can teach you some moves. you're a good fighter already sakura-chan, so i'll give you some harder ones to start with. don't worry if you can't do—"

sakura nails it in three tries. it's probably one of the top 5 best days of chojis life because it turns into a contest of him busting out a gymnastic trick and trying to see if sakura can replicate it. shishitoren is amazed and confused. togame doesn't know whether to be amused or worried. hiragi winds up getting into their territory just to bring sakura home because if no one intervened sakura would end up joining shishitoren and becoming chojis favorite disciple. it certainly already helps that they have similar fight styles that require insane flexibility, but damn sakura isnt this a bit too much?!@?@

he's still hopeless with technology tho lol. years later and sakura is still horrible at mario kart and can't text for shit. god had to nerf him somehow!

[minimujina]

wriothesley is an old lover, i think. he’s tough and strong and oh-so-ruggedly handsome; he’s a gentle handler, a slow mover. it takes knowing someone a long time before he can either fall in love with them or, if he happened to fall fast and hard, get the guts to do something about it.

when he does something about it, it’s so romantic and genuine and sweet that you’ll want to metaphorically throw up. in a time where things move so fast—technology makes strides every day, engineers are speeding along the progress of society, and people become daily entangled in small trysts of passion, leaving fragments of themselves scattered—wriothesley moves deliciously slow.

it makes you feel so special, the way he practically courts you. he’s so god damn respectful of everything about you, it’s disgusting. the simple ways he shows affection for you are so beautiful and veneratingly intimate that it almost feels vulgar. wriothesley naturally creates a space around himself that is so safe and so quiet, you melt into vulnerability before you can even think. he makes it easy to be relaxed, and that can be scary when you are used to being on guard.

he is patient, and he’s kind. he’s certainly not perfect, as no one can be—he has his flaws, and he recognizes his own shortcomings. though easy to talk to, easy to get along with, wriothesley does guard his heart carefully, masking himself and his intentions until he’s gauged the trustworthiness of a companion. it can sometimes be difficult to bring the defenses down, even in the most trusted presence; he is used to being fully performative, fully vigilant. he can struggle to communicate in this stage, because he is uncertain of himself and others and, frankly, everything all at once. but once the wall comes down, he’s all authentic, coming as he is without the pre-painted mask.

i feel as if it takes a lot of mutual comfort and reassurance in that stage of scary vulnerability. it is somewhat grotesque to be seen as you are and then to watch someone choose to see more of you over and over and over. you are dying and you are living and it’s mortifying and really very wonderful.

after the initial knowing, there comes the valley where it feels as if your souls begin to intertwine, and the knowing becomes so much more intimate than you might have prepared yourself for. wriothesley wants to hide, and you might too. there are probably some bumps where he puts off replying to letters, or perhaps you procrastinate scheduling visits to the fortress, and you both act very silly, and you misunderstand and squabble a bit and make up. the silliness, however, is not unwarranted, as you both are very aware of how scary it can be to like someone and to be liked. and to watch and feel as the liking turns to loving, and knowing turns to becoming, and suddenly your hands and hearts are glued like crafts and it would be a dire mistake to unravel the lovely work of two loving souls—but moving forward is still, perhaps, so very uncomfortable. but you will, you will do it.

wriothesley likes you so much that he feels himself fall apart. the entirety of the strength he has built up within himself wavers under your soft gaze; your eyes rip him to shreds, but gently, lovingly. you reduce him to nothing but a lovestruck schmuck.

the depths of his adoration for you are, in a sense, biblical. if you have no religious background, you could call his love something sacred, something reverent. he’d never anticipated feeling this way for someone; now that he’s become so deeply entrenched in everything about you, wriothesley feels a deep need to protect and to provide. he is unsure what the future could look like due to his position as the duke of meropide, but he is certain that everything will fall into place if it is meant to be. whatever the case, he’s an absolute schmuck, hanging off your every word and footstep. 100% would follow you around like a lost puppy were he not duty-bound to his work.

for you, it’s really the fact that you could sit in his presence for hours, safely and peacefully, without having spoken a word. there could be no sound in his office but the time-dusted record playing and tea-crusted pages turning, and all would still be well. no guessing, nothing under the rug for you to worry your silly head about—it is just he and you and his work and your books, and the music and his breathing and your humming and embroidery. nothing has transpired but the work that has been done and the record that has played a dozen times over. you may pick up where you left off with him, only with a lighter chest and clearer mind.

sigewinne would oft find the duke passed out in his big red chair, his sweet little lover over on the couch gone to dreamland all the same. it was picturesque. she sometimes wished she could call her friend mamere to paint it, to capture in art whatever it was she could not with words. sigewinne was still learning about humans—and she could glean a lot just from watching you and the duke. but sometimes, like this domestic scene, she would find herself puzzled, unable to describe the feelings that emerged from seeing two humans so safe and comfortable with each other in this particular manner. sigewinne would tip-toe back down the stairs and out of the duke’s office, much to ponder, and much to ask monsieur neuvillette.

very self indulgent, but i finally wrote something 😵‍💫 it just came out like blaarrggh

[kalims]

kiss your best friend | ignihyde

kiss your best friend and see how they react!

parts. one , two , three , four , five , six , seven

characters. idia, ortho

content. gender neutral reader as usual, platonic for the bby, wingman ortho at it again, forgot about this ngl

note. sorry guys idia's part was messy but I mean, I'm just portraying his chaotic feelings ig. I SWEAR ORTHO'S PART MAKES UP FOR IT SINCE HES THE CALMER ONE

damn part six finally hear after almost a year (I'm so sorry help)

idia

is having the fastest inner monolog you will ever hear in your life, if it was being read out loud that is. could be nominated as rapper of the year with how fast he's blurting out thoughts in his mind.

also probably vocals of the year too with how high pitched, and small in range it is. what a versatile king 🔥

'anywaysitooklike10yearstryingtofindthisitemcausetheysaidtheysawitbutohmygodwhatinthethreehellsishappeningOMGaretheykissingmechatamidreamingOMGimnot??WHAT WARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA'

to make your life easier 'anyways it took like ten years trying to find this item cause they said they saw it but oh my god what in the three hells is happening OMG are they kissing me chat am I dreaming OMG I'm not??? WHAT *incoherent screeching.'

probably has never kissed anyone besides his body pillows which is just one sided making out so completely forgets his 'lessons on teaching himself how to kiss' and freezes up. comically gets goosebumps and remains frozen even after you pull away.

then starts turning red from feet to head??

he has so many questions that he in fact, does NOT want to ask cause even if it cost his life he can't question you if you guys are dating now cause YOU JUST KISSED HIM SO THAT MEANS YOU BOTH UPGRADE LEVELS.

wait he can't call it friendship level. clearly you're both past level 10 now right?? INTIMACY LEVEL???? HE DOESNT KNOW HES PANICKING.

is too awkward to ask and acts even more awkward as the time is more prolong during the time he's just left wondering what the hell you guys are now cause he's too pussy to do anything without confirmation that you're both duos for life now.

ortho

is the one idia rants to about his predicament right after you part ways.

like, idia doesn't even try to call or contact ortho through the means of technology even if it meant getting to talk faster. he's BOLTING to the dorm with his unathletic ass (with breaks in between.) because the tea he was going to spill was that good.

listens intently and goes :O when idia finally mentions the part where you randomly kiss him out of the blue, by the way only getting to the point after idia spills.. umm.. the wrong thing to be honest, literally retold the whole day until that point.

yeahhhh.. he has the energy atleast.

idia is probably telling ortho about how it meant nothing even though you literally outright kissed him, to the cheek, mouth, or something and he's still gonna say it didn't mean anything.

ortho gotta be the one telling idia to make the move cause no idiot would mistake that for nothing (except idia apparently but he'll have everyone know that his brother is a tech genius!!)

they both do one of those scenes in movies where P1 - idia, is talking to you in real life with an earpiece, and P2 - ortho is said person behind the earpiece. basically the one telling idia what he should do because that guy is too lost for his own good.

"brother move closer!"

"... isn't this too close already though--" <- embarrassed and regretting everything

in the end he did manage to get a label on the two of you, no thanks to HIM and all the thanks to ortho <3

note. ortho's part just ended up as an extension of idia's part but I always love to include him in everything :') just some behind the scenes on how idia actually got a relationship (ITS ALL ORTHO)

not pr, who prs anyways cries

[asolareclipses]

(Previous Part)

After passing through the miserable Manhattan traffic, the roads of rural New York began to calm as they began the long journey to Maine.

Beside Will, Jason was twisting a map around, the paper crinkling with each slight movement he made. “You’d think they would’ve made these easier to read.” He grumbled under his breath.

“Well they sort of did,” Will replied, “Google maps offers great convenience, unfortunately there’s no demigod Google or Apple…or any of the other companies.”

Jason blankly stared at Will for a moment, “I’m going to pretend I understood what any of that meant.”

Will held back a laugh, he had forgotten that Jason wasn’t exactly familiar with modern technology. He was like Nico in that way, maybe that’s one of the reasons they got along so well. “It’s phone stuff, i’m not really the expert on it because I was never allowed to have a phone. But my Mom had one, and the other campers keep me up to date with all that other stuff.”

Jason’s eyes widened for a split second, Will could tell it was because of the mention of his Mom. He was probably surprised because Will typically didn’t mention her. “So your Mom, she’s…” Jason’s voice died off.

“She’s alive, if that’s what you wanted to ask. Her name is Naomi Solace, though I doubt you’ve heard of her. She’s a pretty well known country singer, always busy with tours and concerts.” Will seemed to fall into the past as he spoke about his mother. “I used to go on tours with her, they were chaotic but honestly amazing. Staying up until the late hours eating fast food, traveling around the country. It was great.”

Jason seemed hesitant to speak, but he noticed Will’s smile fading. “Did something happen?”

“Well, turns out monsters aren’t great for tours.” Will sighed as he stared out across the endless roads. “As I got older, more and more attacks happened. Eventually my Mom had to send me to camp, she didn’t want to. I still think she regrets it, but there was nothing she could do. Guess that’s just how it is.”

“Do you still keep in contact?” Jason asked cautiously.

“Yeah,” Will nodded, “I send letters, and Iris messages. Sometimes I even visit, though she’s pretty busy so I never stay long. She would probably let me stay forever if she could, but I wouldn’t burden her like that.”

Jason opened his mouth to speak but he hesitated, unable to find the right thing to say. After a moment he finally spoke, “She sounds nice.”

Will smiled, “Oh yeah, she’s amazing.” He meant it completely, his Mom was truly one of the best people he’d ever known. “But enough about my Mom, what do you think this ‘dark presence’ or whatever it is we are facing?”

Jason frowned, his mind delving into thought, “I’m not sure. What dark creature or thing would be out to get Nico?”

Will paused, a revelation hitting him so hard he almost drove them off the road. “Oh my Gods…how did I not realize sooner?”

“What?” Jason said, his hand was now tightly latched onto the door from Wills lapse in good driving.

“It’s Nyx,” he said the name like it was poison in his mouth. “It has to be. She’s probably still pissed that he embarrassed her.”

“Nyx?” Jason asked, his voice almost incredulous.

“Yeah, we fought her back in tartarus. Guess she’s still holding a grudge.” Will shook his head with an unpleasant look displayed on his face.

“So Nico left to what? Go fight a goddess on his own?”

Will sighed in pure frustration, “Yep. It’s a classic Nico move, I mean he would’ve gone to tartarus alone, again, if I hadn’t forced him to take me.”

“I guess in that way he hasn’t changed, still trying to face things alone.” Jason frowned.

“Right.” Will’s face was now unreadable even to himself, “At least he’s not alone, he took your boyfriend with him remember?”

Jason almost choked, “Boyfriend?!”

Will failed to hold back his laughter, “I guess it’s not official yet?”

“We’re not-he’s not-“ Jason stumbled over his words before giving up at forming a coherent sentence.

“Okay, okay. I won’t push any further, just know, it’s pretty obvious.” Will smirked as Jason tried to regain his composure.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Jason finally spoke with a false look of confidence. “Me and Leo are just-“ He was cut off by a sudden thump against the roof of the car.

Will glanced up in shock, “What was that?”

“I don’t-“ Jason began, but before he could finish there was another thump and sharp claws pierced through the roof.

Will grit his teeth looking ahead, “Hold tight Jason, the rides about to get bumpy.”

—

Bumpy was an understatement. The second Will swerved off the main road, the normal car ride transformed into a death trip. Each turn was so sharp Jason had to cling to whatever he could just so he wouldn’t be thrown across the car. He was convinced that any second now they’d go barreling into a tree. Yet, Will somehow maintained control, his driving was insane but also impressive.

In a particularly harsh turn, whatever had latched onto the car had gone flying off and when Jason turned to see he got a clear view of their attacker—well attackers. Rapidly approaching behind them was a small group of harpies, hellbent on turning them into bird food.

“Uh Will? You might want to speed up,” Jason said as he gripped his sword. There wasn’t much use for it in the small space but it was a good plan b.

“On it.” Will said, as his knuckles latched around the wheel turned white, they began to pick up speed making any movement of the car even more jarring.

Jason kept his eyes on the harpies which were still hot on their trail, “How do we lose these guys?”

“No clue,” Will spoke through clenched teeth. “Maybe you could blow them away?”

Jason perked up, for a moment he’d forgotten about the whole wind powers thing. “Good idea.” He spoke quickly before focusing on the wind beneath the harpies wings. With a slight twist they spiraled away, losing control of the air around them.

Will seemed to relax for a moment, but that was cut short by the cars suddenly sputtering to a slow stop. The extra speed and turbulence appeared to be too much for the old camp be vehicle. “Aw hades!” The look on Will’s face was of pure and utter frustration.

As soon as the car wasn’t moving, Will slung open his door storming over to the hood of the car. With a frown he threw it open and was promptly engulfed in smoke. Jason hurriedly rushed over to him, urging the winds to dispel the clouds of smoke.

As the smoke dissipated it revealed Will who stood there coughing and muttering a range of curses—some Jason had never heard before but he was sure they weren’t positive. “Of course this happens!” Will threw his hands up in defeat.

Jason winced, not sure how to comfort him.

“The one time I go out on an important quest, everything goes wrong!” Will spoke, his anger seemed more directed at himself than the circumstances.

“Every quest has setbacks,” Jason tried his best to sound optimistic.

“Maybe, but we left camp hours ago and we’re already stranded on the side of the road. Who knows what Nico and Leo are doing, and if we’re too late.” Will rambled on as he began to pace alongside the car.

“Will, things happen, I don’t see how this could be your fault.” Jason continued with his reasoning, but it was as if Will had heard nothing.

“What a great idea to send a medic on some important quest, like I could actually be a hero.” Will spoke directly to himself almost unaware of Jason’s presence.

“Will stop.” Jason took cautious hold of Will’s shoulders, a firm look on his face.

Realization passed across Will’s expression as he now understood how he’d been acting. “Sorry..” His voice was almost too quiet to hear.

“This is only a temporary setback, we’ll find away to get to them in time.” Jason spoke with every ounce of reassurance he could gather.

Will looked away, now focused on the dirt beneath his shoes. “Right, you’re right.”

Jason watched as Will seemed to shrink in on himself, embarrassed for showing a slight piece of his troubles. He felt a sense of similarity between himself and Will, he knew all too well the pain of hiding your true feelings.

It was the first time he saw Will not as this bubbly guy who was happy to do whatever whenever, but as someone who faced the same harsh world that met every demigod. Will knew loss, he knew more than he’d ever tell. He would never show that side of himself willingly. Instead, he let himself be portrayed as a calm reliable person with no struggles despite his constant turmoil. It didn’t feel fair.

At that moment Jason knew Will was a true hero, whether he believed it or not. He just had no idea how to prove it to him. What he did know, was that they had to succeed. Not just for Leo and Nico, but for everyone else, including themselves.

Part Seven

[mrsmarlasinger]

Oh? My fucking god??

THIS WAS THE CONTROLLER FOR THE SUBMARINE THAT WENT MISSING???

The Logitech F710??

Like, okay, apparently the U.S. military* uses Xbox 360 controllers. I get that. It's cheap. It's technology already familiar to many young adults. I get it, I do.

*(fuck 'em)

But still. STILL.

I don't know anything about gamepads, but I do know the Logitech F710 came out thirteen years ago. I just found it on Ebay for $16 including shipping.

But surely that means that through the test of time, the Logitech F710 has proven itself to be the best around, right? A work of video game engineering so flawless, even a relatively sane individual might agree to trust it with their life....right?

Oh. Oh. Jesus Horatio Christ.

Imagine your joystick drifts and your buttons get stuck and your controller lags...while you're steering a submarine...13,000 FEET UNDERWATER.

(That's about 4,000 meters, or just under 2.5 miles. And yes, I know it's actually a submersible, not a submarine.)

Oh my god. Oh my god.

For context, according to Naval Post:

A submarine specifically built to rescue people from subs sunk deep in the sea has a maximum depth of 7,500 to 10,000 feet (2,250 to 3,000 meters). But no, with the Titan, we're talking 13,000 FEET.

So if the pressure at approximately that depth is 5,775 psi, which means 5,775 lbs (2,619 kg)—or ALMOST THREE TONS—per square inch...

...and the atmospheric pressure where I live is sitting at 14.5 psi today...

That means the sheer pressure of the ocean at that depth is, like, 400 times that of the air we breathe. So if your fucking 13-year-old video game controller drifts you into the wreckage of the goddamn Titanic, the moment your hull sustains a little damage, even the tiniest leak, you're gonezo. The sub implodes and you're pulverized. Instantly.

(Plus I hear the compression rate is so extreme, the molecules so fast-moving, that everything heats to combustion in the split second before the water puts it out. So really, you'd be incinerated before you'd be crushed. Ain't that a treat?)

But hey, maybe the pressure hull remains intact and you just lose power. Or get entangled in the wreckage of, again, THE GODDAMN TITANIC.

Then it's just you and your four rich buddies crammed into a metal tube, waiting for your 96 hours of oxygen to run out.

Navigational computers on the fucking floor. No backrests. No seats. No padding. Nothing. Just one small toilet sat in front of one tiny window.

So when the power dies and the lights go out, it's just a claustrophic sardine tin of the wealthy, alone in the suffocating pitch-dark at the bottom of the ocean, choking on the smell of their own shit.

All this, for a quarter of a million dollars per head.

Which they paid even though Stockton Rush, the CEO of OceanGate himself, said that SAFETY IS A WASTE. OH MY FUCKING—

A sadly unshocking thing to hear from the CEO of a company that's engendered safety concerns! For! YEARS!

Also unshocking: the waiver apparently mentions death three times on the first page.

You know.

In case it didn't get through to you after the first two times. Or after reading that the sub is experimental and hasn't been approved or regulated in any remotely meaningful way.

But it's okay if the MacGyvered fucking submarine crumbles like a Saltine cracker, because IT DOESN'T MATTER IF EVERYTHING FAILS! AS LONG AS THE PRESSURE HULL'S INTACT, IT'S OKAY IF YOU'RE STUCK 13,000 FEET UNDER THE SEA WITH A RAPIDLY DWINDLING SUPPLY OF OXYGEN! THE CEO OF OCEANGATE SAID SO!!!

HAHA! HA! YES, THE TOTALLY SUCCESSFUL MACGYVERED SUB WITH A COMPLETELY INTACT PRESSURE HULL!!!!

Oh my god. Oh my GOOOOOOOOD.

But hey! Remember! :) If the Juulpod-sized, Atari-run hunk of hubris doesn't literally fucking implode with you inside it, it's okay that there are 18 bolts locking you in that can't be undone without external assistance! Because Stockton Rush said you're safe as long as the (definitely pristine) hull is still intact!

So if you're bobbing on the surface of the ocean, watching seagulls cross blue sky through your single tiny porthole, listening to the pulse of white-crested waves ruffled by the cool sea breeze, drowning above water because you can't escape the slow ceaseless hourglass that is your stagnant air supply without a rescue crew—a rescue crew that can't even find you because you're mired in a vast expanse of savage ocean and oh, by the way, your communications going down is what started all this in the FIRST PLACE...

...well, don't worry! Titan's many, many, MANY successful past voyages should give you comfort! :)

But, on the very off chance this could be a dangerous and likely deadly situation, tell me: which would be the worst way to go?

Incinerating in the abrupt birth of a terrible, crushing singularity?

Asphyxiating in the lightless abyss that lurks like some arcane hell at the bottom of the ocean?

Or suffocating just as slowly above the water, with air so close you can see the misty breeze yet still...just...out...of reach?

God, I hope we save these dumbass idiots. Especially since one of them's just a 19-year-old kid. I don't even care how rich and stupid they are. I just can't imagine dying like that.

[asukaskerian]

Battlefield Terra is one of those works that just...changed my brain chemistry for so many reasons. I still go back and read it and think about it. This isnt an ask to return to it (though wouldn't be upset) but just to like thank you for putting the amount of it that you did out there

.__. *squish squish* thank you.

i cannot REMEMBER for the life of me if i ever posted any of the scene bits i had written in the chapter i never completed. first scene is actually one i love a lot, but then the battle scene was overtly complex and too long and had required so many rewrites and nothing worked. hghghhg.

but. anyway. this is the scene with the fallout from the "oh shit i kissed the alien am I GAY after all?????? oh fucking hell why did i notice JUST AT THE SAME TIME AS I NOTICE HOW MUCH HE'S NEVER GONNA *DECIDE NOT TO GO HOME* vfbndjh gnx;"

--

"And this is why it never pays to be stingy with technology," Jane said philosophically from the bucket seat next to John.

Strapped in like a sausage in its skin, John still managed to turn his helmet and grin at his sister. "Aw, come on, you didn't want the industry to cut into its profit margin, did you."

In the corner of his -- of all the pilots' -- glasses was an explosion of Spanish and Chinese sentences, nonsensical words, and Roxy-worthy typos.

The industry thing was mostly a joke; the think-typing-thoughts interface had first been developed for quadriplegics and amputees, and outside of hardcore nerds and professionals whose job required they be able to code very fast, people still preferred using their actual hands. One good reason for it: at the level of miniaturization necessary to put the brain sensors into glasses, it was new enough to still be expensive.

The new communication hub was a complete mess of hundreds of people trying it on for the first time, and it was hilarious.

"--Wow, hey, I know what that guy is doing! Oh my god, it's excellent, he's trying to think in sign language." Roxy giggled, tried to kick her feet only they were also strapped in. The craft was still accelerating, after all. Bleh. "Only then he has to transcribe into English, and he's doing it super literally! Hehehe."

Jane perked up a little. "Huh! No wonder the grammar was odd."

ID28YB: holy shit were all guna die in space aaaa

ID28YB: on the upside italics!

ID17NC: fuck how do you backspace backspacebacmlnpi

ID13JA: SARGANT MY CAPCLOSK IS FUCKED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ID01JA: Like shit it is, PrivatE.

ID01JA: DamN.

ID98NZ: fifty Nine bottles of beer ON THE WALL, take one DOWN pass itaround FIftynIneBOTTLES on Thewall!!!!!

"I'll be so glad when they lock it down to emergency communications again," Jade said from John's other side, and sighed.

"At least the bosses forbid them to use colors," John said, trying for consoling. (He kind of failed, mostly because he was snickering.)

Jake chuckled from his seat at the end of the line, on Jade's other side, but didn't add anything. He hadn't really been talking much ever since they took off, and since they couldn't lean out of their seats it was really hard to see what face he was making. John wondered if he was worried about --

Of course he was worried. And if John thought about all the reasons why, he was going to start to fret too. His stomach was already in a knot behind the adrenaline grin, no need to double down on it.

"Hey Jake," he threw out, with no idea what kind of light-conversation topic he was going to pull out. "D'you think--"

"Say, chaps, I think I feel lighter!" Jake interrupted.

"Huh, yeah, maybe?" John tried to bounce his leg and wasn't sure if there was a difference yet. It was hard to feel the lessening weight of his body when it was such a knot of anticipation already, and when he couldn't move. "Wow. Are we reaching cruising speed already? There was no announcement--"

The door opened and Corporal Vantas stepped through.

(Not Karkat. There was a difference.)

"Woohoo, you clean up nice!" Roxy said with a whistle as he stalked closer in his alien boots and his space-black flight suit, head bare but for the jarringly pink headset nestled against his horns. John noticed all over again that his skin was slate gray, that his eyes were violently red and yellow.

That he moved through the heavy gravity of the rocket's push like it wasn't even there, when John himself -- at least at first -- would have wobbled.

"What mean -- no, I don't care."

He sat beside Jake in the free seat at the end that should have gone to Dirk, and disappeared from John's view, what with the helmets and the protruding edges of the bucket seats. John swallowed and put a smile on his face, even though no one was going to see him. For a second he had thought Karkat was coming toward him. Haha, silly.

"No more talk with the Generals, Karkat?" Jane asked, tone forcefully light.

"Mm. No."

"Talk with us now? Do you have anything important to say or just hanging out?"

John's eyes flitted over the logs on his glasses, the higher ranks starting to organize to separate the chatter by platoons. It was still mostly banter and bad jokes.

"...Hanging out? Yes. Hanging out. Here, not... other here. I'm Corporal not General, it's not fucking right I'm with them."

It was the exact same tone the Marines John knew used when they got offended when their chain of command got dumbass ideas. Heh.

Maybe a little hesitation. Maybe just the translation issues.

JH: haha, you guys *wish* you could type in colors!

ID28YB: if by colors u mean rainbow fruity goodness then sure :(

ID28YB: i wanted mauve goddamn!!

JH: maybe better that you can't have it, echidna would have had to cut you. :'(

(Urgh. He missed Rose. He wished she were well enough to fight with them today.)

Jade joined the conversation, asked Karkat about... John wasn't listening. What the politicos had told him, when he was alone with them without a translator. Stuff. Boring stuff.

Karkat's low, gravelly voice kept slipping into his ears no matter how hard he tried not to pay attention to the words. ("You talk I fall on you a lot. Maybe you want --")

Anyway when the loudspeaker in the wall started talking he was pretty glad.

"Attention troops, cruise speed has been reached. Stay seated until your immediate superior allows you to stand..."

Two clicks echoed around him, Jade and Roxy undoing their security harnesses in unison.

"Oh my god, I'm so stiff," Jade groaned. "I'm going to check on Remington, anyone wanna come with?"

"You sit still for longer stretches of time in battle," Jane pointed out as she freed herself in turn, as Jake was still fighting his clasps.

"In battle my seat is perfectly adapted to my butt!"

The girls started to file out, talking about butts, and John almost heard Dave mentioning butt massages, almost mentioned it himself but. No. That would have been wrong even if two thirds of the lot weren't family.

He thought of following them. He would just skip along, snicker and stretch his legs and tease the Marines and...

"See you guys later," he said instead, waving without looking, heart a pulsating knot in his throat. "Karkat and I have to practice the telepathy-typing thing. Well, mostly me."

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, listened to the tread of boots on the hard plastic floor.

He didn't need to look in order to know which one of them was Karkat, getting up and moving one seat down the line.

Leaving one seat empty between them. Huh. John wasn't sure how to take that one.

"Huhn. You want telepathy now?"

John winced to himself. "It's pretty much now or in the middle of battle, isn't it?"

A beat of silence, and then Karkat grunted an acknowledgement. "Mm."

"Mm," John agreed, and kept on not making a move toward his own headset. Karkat's was already in place, possibly already turned on. John just had to tap.

"Maybe we speak and then headsets," Karkat suggested.

"... Yeah, maybe that."

John made a superfluous noise of agreement, and then groaned and pushed his helmet off his head, tucked it between his feet. He took his gloves off next, dropped them inside the helmet, and then buried both hands in his hair to scratch and rub with vigorous frustration. It did not soothe him as much as he had hoped for.

"This is the worst timing," he groaned, muffled, as he curled forward until he could prop his elbows on his thighs and lace his fingers behind his head. His spine cracked.

The worst timing, and the worst thing. He wasn't sure he'd have taken it much better elsewhere, with more time to take care of the fallout. It sucked. His head was a mess just when he absolutely needed to be as perfectly in the zone as he had ever been in his entire life.

"I'm sorry," Karkat said quietly. "We do big things today. I was stupid. Even if you said oh yes good, kissing! it's other things in our head and we can't have other things in our head now. I didn't do the good thing."

John groaned quietly, face prickling with heat, and closed his eyes. "No, it's... Yeah. Yeah, okay, that wasn't -- the right time. But you... You were right. I was looking."

He hadn't managed to stop looking even once since he'd seen Karkat naked, coming out of his slime. Maybe he had even been looking before that, playing it off as fascination with Karkat's alienness. Kind of like 'haha no I just like looking at his horns because they're weird, so random amirite!' only with everything else on top of the horns, like his little bitey teeth on goth-black lips and his bare toes and the fit of his goddamn dress suit at the summit--

"So why--" Karkat fell silent, drew in a breath, and then released it in a long, hissing sigh and muttered under his breath in alienese. John couldn't even offer a guess from the tone this time around.

Why did you kiss back, he could have been asking. Why did you stop kissing. Why did you never make a move. Why did you make a move now. Why are you such an idiotic mess.

Answer was the same for all of them, anyway. "I don't know."

"Why do you not know that?!" Karkat shot back -- more incredulous than angry, but John winced anyway. "How you look at a people and don't know, and other people tell you 'yes, them' and you say 'haha, no' and you're wrong?"

"Oh, shut up!" John snapped as he threw himself back into his chair, his arms coming up to cross tight against his ribs. Even now he couldn't look toward Karkat at all, shoulders curled in and away from the other man. His stomach felt like someone was squeezing it with both hands; his face still prickled with mortification. It was awful, he wanted to get up and run just to get moving, stop having to think on it -- leave the feeling behind -- but he knew better than to think it would work. He knew better and he still wanted to try, flinching and too tense; what a shit condition for battle. Fuck. "I know, okay? I'm the most stupid jerk--"

Karkat's hand was hot even through the glove.

He tugged on John's elbow, lightly, squeezed a little.

"Zhann."

"... Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry," he said, sounding tired, and his hand fell from John's arm. "It's shit words."

John sneaked him a look; Karkat wasn't looking directly at John either, mouth pinched in discomfort, eyes dim somehow.

"Is it I'm alien and it's gross? So you don't in your head because ... haha, gross, can't be true--"

"No!" John spluttered, turning in his seat as much as he could to face him. "No, no, you being an alien is -- it is weird, but it's not bad, it's just not normal. It's... You're a guy?"

Karkat looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed. "Huhn?"

God. It figured. For all the joking about Karkat being gay that John had been doing like an asshole, he'd mentioned an old girlfriend too, and the cat girl who liked him that he didn't want to lead on, and it had never felt like she was disqualified because of boobs.

Also -- ugh, thanks Dirk and his casual beach gossipping -- Karkat thought Jade's butt was nice, and so was Mr. Strider's. So. Bisexual.

The way he looked now, baffled and not liking it, it was a little like he had never heard of someone who wasn't. Oh boy. What a mess. John raked a hand through his hair, tried to get back into explaining mode.

"It's -- we're mammals, remember? We need a boy and a girl to. To make little humans. That means normally we don't want other males, or other females, because -- there can be no babies? So a boy doesn't have a boyfriend, he has a girlfriend, and... The other way around, too. Boy and girl, yes, boy and boy no?"

"... Huhn."

"I mean. Some men like men! Dirk and Mr. Strider like men. But they knew it pretty early on. They knew when they were kids -- when they were small? -- that they were like that. And I've never." He swallowed. "I've never. Thought about a guy. Like that."

"Oh."

"And it's really weird." He gave a twitch of a shrug, looked away. "... And I don't know if it's because of the telepathy."

"Oh," Karkat said again, but this time he sounded stricken, not baffled.

John dropped a hand on Karkat's forearm across the empty seat, patted awkwardly -- wanted to squeeze or hold his wrist (or hold his hand) but that was just -- even such a short touch made his stomach twist with odd queasiness, his face flush back to maximum redness. "It's okay, buddy. I don't -- it's just. ... Don't feel bad, okay, that's stupid, I just -- it is weird, but --"

Karkat's breastbone beeped. Scowling down, he fished his tablet out of his collar, unrolled it, shook it stiff. Oh. Little countdown shown in rows of dots, going one by one from red to dark.

Five seconds to a dot, fifteen dots to a row, and how many rows... Hm. Ten minutes left before... John wasn't sure. They weren't going to be there yet in ten minutes.

"My mech. Gotta wake up, it's slow." Karkat waved a brisk hand, eyebrows furled in worry.

John closed his eyes. "Do you want to practice the mind-typing?"

"It's not want," Karkat grunted, slanting him a look. "... It's going to be bad."

"Mm."

"We need bigger time, not this," he added, tapping the tablet with the outside curve of a claw.

John tried out a dry shrug, and thought to himself that he really didn't enjoy it, that 'if you fuck this up you will have fucked everything up' feeling. Dread was for the battlefield, not for stupid interpersonal relationships. 

"Probably. We can keep working on it once we're in our mechs, too..."

Karkat snorted, replied something in alienese that had to be 'We had better.'

Yeah, okay. John just had to put his helmet back on.

"We don't have time for this crap!" he growled -- whined, if he wanted to be fair, something strangled and pleading, frustrated.

"Mnh."

John curled forward, hands cupping his temples, elbows on his knees. "Damn it. I don't -- I can't -- in ten minutes, that's too--"

There was no way he was going to be able to stop thinking about all the things he didn't want to think about, all the things -- the petty, selfish things -- he didn't want Karkat to know about.

Like the incontrovertible fact that no matter what John figured out he wanted, whatever compromises they found with each other, there was no magic button that would make Karkat stay.

He'd been in Karkat's head too much to imagine for one second he would weigh out John and the dubious safety Earth offered him against his people -- his people abused and thrown out like shark bait to be mowed down by enemies and superiors alike -- and choose John.

John was pretty sure Karkat wouldn't even choose Gamzee.

"Do you want sex." 

John flinched around and back so fast he hit his shoulder blade against one of the edges of the seat.

Karkat was looking back at him -- steady, John thought at first, but his lower eyelids were tight, his cheeks just a little dusky. The heat on John's face cooled down just barely at that.

"I ask so it's not more alien bullshit thing. It's what you want?"

"Oh my god," John protested, looking around wildly in case anyone had managed to open the sealing doors to the small room without the hiss of pneumatics warning them. "I don't know! I'm not -- I swear I'm not lying, I don't -- this is freaking me out."

"I see that, dumbass," Karkat said, but almost nicely. "You're so bad in your head, I don't know you can get that much a clusterfuck."

John groaned, slumped forward again.

"... Mouth thing, was good?"

"... Yeah."

"Touching?"

John gave a little grunt, eyes closed.

"Want where?"

"Why do you need to know?!"

There was a moment of silence like Karkat rolling his eyes, or maybe just watching him, waiting. John didn't check. 

"Zhann."

"... Horns? Maybe your hands. I kind of. Want to see your claws. We could sit close? We could--" He choked. His face prickled so hot it almost hurt. He wanted to touch Karkat's face, follow his nose with a fingertip -- he wanted Karkat to allow that, the trust and closeness it would mean.

"That's where?" Karkat grumbled, gave John a frustrated look. John tore his eyes away, ducked his head. Where had he -- when they had kissed (his mouth tingled like an echo) -- when Karkat was so close, almost on his lap, what had he --

"Your thighs," he whispered, dizzy with nerves and shame. "Inside." He clenched his knees together, hands knotted between them -- oh, Karkat's legs clamped down on his hand, all warm and snug. Muscles bunching, straining. So close to his -- his. Oh shit, John couldn't pop a boner inside his flight suit, not while Karkat was watching, while they were hashing out how much of a total clusterfuck this was going to be.

There was silence for too long -- three seconds, ten, every single one tightening his shoulders, knotting his guts worse, nausea and heat mingling dizzyingly.

"... Put your head thing on, Zhann."

John groaned out loud. "Are you kidding me, I will die. I don't want you to -- there's too much, it's. We can't!"

But when he glanced at the tablet still across Karkat's lap they were down to the last two rows of dots and it was now or never. More accurately, now or on the battlefield when they were supposed to coordinate two forces that had never fought together against ... however many of those aliens who wouldn't have followed some random high-ranked asshole from nowhere into open rebellion.

He shoved the helmet down before he could think about it twice. It felt too tight, like he was going to strangle, to be crushed.

Karkat felt too close; an empty seat between them and John still remembered him in Excalibur's cockpit, how easy it would have been to slip on his lap and kiss and--

(Yeah okay definitely sexual there) flitted through his mind from Karkat, alongside ... surprise, oh wow, so violent, stop feeling, not the end of the world --

John flashed back to his previous thought -- sitting next to each other and his hand trapped between strong thighs and oh shit he was getting hard, no, no --

(hand pushing higher) echoed back briefly, edged with curiosity, a spark of -- Karkat shook his head, slapped his own hands down onto his knees, hard enough to sting. John startled. "Okay!" Karkat said, staring straight ahead.

He was maybe smiling a little.

Okay yes we need to talk later I don't fuck and run (do you?)

John spluttered. "How would I know!" I've never/and run where anyway we're on an island!

Take your mech, zip off? (laughter) (mister space pilot, so locked in.) Wait, never? How old-- oh right no one around only older adults and your tangleclan/friends and you can't with half of them because blah blah mammals (and not boys? Why not boys. Aliens what the fuck.)

John groaned again, hands on his helmet since he couldn't get to his face. Could have Rose or Roxy! Roxy was my first kiss! (haha sloppy-alright-nice but I saw you fingers up your nose too much as a kid sorry John I like you tender-nice but it all fizzed out) and Rose kissed me on a dare and it was like kissing Jane it was horrible.

And that was the entire fucking extent of your romantic and sexual experience oh my dear little dark gods that's pitiful. (sharp/teal/lovely-blade moaning over me (tight-soft-deep) other hurried hands in dark corners--) shit sorry--

Oh. Of course Karkat had had sex before. Of course he would know more, of course John was hopelessly late and useless -- he couldn't even bring himself to think about, about kissing, never mind what happened later, he was a kid--

The tablet beeped.

"Shit," Karkat said in English, and another few words that echoed as bounce me around on a bladed dildo. Which, yeowch. He turned to stare at John, already half out of his seat and leaning forward, a claw-tipped hand clenched on the armrest. "(I gotta get going now. John, do you--)"

He was leaning forward like he was about to kiss John, if John hadn't been wearing a helmet, and John knew full well that wasn't at all what he'd been doing, knew because he was in Karkat's brain, and still couldn't help but fear-hope for it.

(I'll kiss you if we win) flashed between them, too fast to hold back. No wait sorry (god it'd feel nice) we have to talk first and -- not now, cannot be now.

John laughed, mostly from nerves. I'll come with you (sit in cockpit think tappy thoughts oh my god they'll love transcripts of your foul mouth be hilarious what if I accidentally transcribe the sex thoughts too oh no oh no--)

Karkat's hand caught his wrist.

"(Do you trust me,)" he said low and intense, in an alienese that John almost didn't notice as not English from how strong the mind-echo was.

The response came embarrassingly instantaneous. "Of course I --" He swallowed. What do you want me to do?

Okay. (You are ridiculous) (thank you.)

Karkat crinkled his golden-red eyes at John and for the first time John realized he doesn't mind how I feel.

Crushes happen, Karkat replied almost casually, with a little pleased-flattered-glad trill running underneath. Crushes happen to me in particular all the damn time so I have no stones to throw. (I know this one is worse, tangled-odd with headsets but it was kind of predictable too especially because of the headsets.)

A harsh beep.

No more time. Follow me?

Follow you where, John wondered, and then Karkat showed him.

His mind nudged closer. Body alive with battle arousal, heart thumping too fast, just barely shaky in his body and he need-wanted John's cheerful-calm interest, his certainty. They should absolutely not kiss before the battle because he would cling and waste time hoping for time to stop instead and also they really needed to hash that shit out but oh, so smug that he'd been right all along. His face winced briefly at whatever echo John sent back, and then he --

(Terrifying/not right/I will never manage alone.) 

John's gorge rose. (can't let that happen/you're not alone (I'm not alone either can't be please god--)

(Good,) rang like a bell between them, and then Karkat's direct, almost forceful Dive(/echo/merge) with me.

John's hands closed tight enough on the armrests that the hard plastic cracked under his fingertips at the thought, visualized like two discordant graphs slowly entering resonance, like rebounding, endless echoes -- the pattering, muted thunder of armies in lockstep. But -- but too close so many things I can't share, how?! Can't sync if we're like this I'm mortified (want to die/hide/wash it out of my brain) you're -- you're --

I want to fight. (Scared to fight.) I need to fight. Silly flurry of thoughts -- bothersome, I have them too (misjudged when to tell people about psychics, misjudged you, (this is not a romcom where you are the heroine what the fuck Vantas,) could have endangered/maybe did endanger the operation twice) we can sync on that! (would be bad). Or we can sync on --

Mechs. Piloting.

Winning the goddamn battle.

We had better not think of beds, John sent Karkat, smile shaking on his face. Karkat snorted back, crooking him a smile.

They bumped foreheads -- or forehead and helmet -- and straightened up, because it was time to go.

They stood (John stood) and walked to the door, one-two, one-two. (Easier if we walk in sync, they agreed, and wondered if it would also work mirrored. But they would experiment later, John, now where was the hangar?)

It was… odd, not quite seamless, little twitches of individual thoughts -- not like last time, at the conference.

It was easier when a Marine came across them -- Sergeant, look at the shoulder bars -- and said, "I was assigned to escort, uh, you, Corporal Vantas..."

"We're coming," they assured her with two mouths (unnecessary) (but which is it again.) "How long do we have left?"

"Four minutes," she said, carefully expressionless in her bulking power armor, the helmet politely open still as she placed herself opposite from the claws side. 

Can you blame her though? haha.

It's not like I didn't help patch those weaknesses.

How'd you even find -- oh, yeah.

Of course horn sense would perceive the electricity field where crucial wires ran, the way a solid plate trembled under a headbutt at the weaker places, of course Karkat's terror would crank his pitiful amount of sensitivity up higher and the luck of frenetic, half-blind panic do the rest.

The upgraded armor would be a little harder but they had the brute strength to punch through and the claws to tear wiring free. Should be easy -- but the Marines weren't the enemy. Strong-respectful-friendly-safe. Distant-confused too (we're too young for how much weight/responsibility we carry) but nice, mostly.

The bay where they were keeping (dad) the mech was empty, if well-guarded; the Marines had taken the warning that the biomechs sometimes ate people to heart, it seemed. Which was hilarious, because (dad) was way too tired to lunge and chomp, which... wasn't funny at all, actually. (When they won, the first thing they'd do would be to put him to a feeding/repairs station.)

They scaled the black-shelled side of the mech, pushing and pulling each body from handhold to foothold -- chinks in the shell, the edge of a plate. (They avoided the gaping cavity of its ripped-away manipulating-arm, no matter how convenient it would have been for a step-up.) The edge of the cockpit opening was cracked open like a wound, ready to be pushed through -- convenient but loose because dad was tired; worrying but nothing to be done for now -- thank god they'd gotten the flight suit back because those weird cotton clothes were a clinging, heavy pain when soaked through with neural gel...

Oh right. John's flight suit might not react quite well to the neural fluid now that dad-mech knew it. What if it dissolved? Haha, naked in the cockpit. Or more like half-naked with strategically placed, slowly widening holes, talk about a porn flick setting. Didn't help that the dissolving/digesting gels used to clean dirt and dead skin cells might also trigger if Dad felt contrary enough and also eat through yeah okay, that was an unsexy thought. John/Karkat crouched, one body on the solid edge, one across the cracked-open plates, and then sinking, eyes closed.

It was the perfect temperature inside, but that never made that first deep breath of gel any easier. He breathed air deeper with the body still outside, like the unencumbered-lungs feeling could help (it helped, even though oxygen wasn't going to come through telepathically. Bodies were stupidly easy to trick.) and settled inside within the nest of coils, seeking out the one that went -- ow, yeah, there, in the flight suit slot at the base of his neck, between the vertebrae.

Wake up, he thought at it, through the neural gel and through the spinal tap, letting it feel his nerve impulses so they could sync more thoroughly. Wake up, (flight systems, weapon arms, no more standby) there's a battle coming. 

Once the process was started it was a matter of waiting until it was sufficiently awake (and burning through the last of its energy.) The Karkat body wiggled into place, let the other tentacles slot into their ports to read his every muscle twitch, so the mech would be ready to move before he even thought it coherently enough to decide exactly what movement he wanted, and then settled down.

It was easier to keep in sync if they weren't both doing different things. The John body waited until the other one was at rest and then stood up, let himself slide along rib covers until gravity flung him off entirely, still pretty high over the ground; he landed in a perfectly timed crouch, laughing a little in admiration (Gods of the Devouring-dark but this body was convenient) and walked out of the hangar.

The Marines at the door didn't look at him like a stranger-threat or even a superior-officer-threat, more like a low-caste soldier might look at a beloved high-blue who cared-possessive for them (still dangerous in the abstract, never quite controllable, but theirs.) It was so strange, so normal.

"Is Corporal Vantas going to stay inside his mech?" the sergeant asked him, falling into step.

"Yes, Sergeant," he assured her soberly. "Until we go."

They weren't sure why that got them a weird look, but it was probably nothing to fret about. The metal mechs' bay door was just there -- similarly guarded but they let John/Karkat pass without a word; one of them nodded at him, fierce and grim-eyed. He nodded back the same way, and then -- oh -- worried that it might worry them, because John usually joked before a battle and soldiers didn't like things to be different. Bad luck. But by then they were at the lift and it was a bit too late to fret about the mental state of grunts.

They opened the cockpit and walked in, swung around to sit. The butt-hollow still felt wrong. 

So many buttons and toggles and it was a wonder John never got them wrong regarding which did what. (Heh.)

The arm-rest where Karkat had sat ... for a moment John-alone was sent reeling, buzzing, experiencing it from the other side -- the tingle of excitement-certainty, that wordless moment when you finally knew the other person was interested, had been flirting back, the pleasure-relief of feeling wanted and known. So touching-surprising-soft to find John so far from cocky carelessness, from being sure of Karkat.

It was sweet, Karkat felt. John stared at the screens he was bringing to life and read the words he knew by heart like they might have changed somehow, tried to think war thoughts.

Weapons check, Karkat thought, tinged with apology-for-the-distraction, tinged with fondness/you-are-sweet.

John went through a weapons check.

They'd left him Excalibur's usual monofilament swords, breakable as they were -- one-hit kills was more Dave's thing than John's -- but he had his hammer too, and the more usual set of bombs and missiles.

Also two EMP bombs. He thought back to Karkat shying away from the microwave and the difference in yield and --

Yeowch vicious yeah that'll work. Not through the home-ship hull (gotta shield from star radiations) but it'll work. How come no one generals-making-plans told me we had that -- wait fuck I'm stupid of course no one would tell me when they were still considering using it on me. It'll work on the biomechs and probably the troop transports but I don't know about the range.

Excal's got good radiation shields, so we can get pretty close and make sure of the kill, John reminded him, and then Karkat reminded him they weren't supposed to wade in, just watch-coordinate from the back.

Like that'll last, they both thought, so closely that maybe neither one had thought it first, that they'd just both had the exact same amused-despairing reaction.

They went through the flight check in comfortable, whispering quiet.

[spicywhenspeaking]

Lost & Found : Noah x Reader OneShot

you're surprising your husband Noah while he's on tour! It's literally just porn 😀 because I wanted to practice writing so MINORS DNI

warnings: unprotected sex (p in v), oral (f/m receiving), throat fucking 🙈, umm creampie? How much are supposed to put in here, whiny Noah, men begging, two hot people in love.

this is a work of fiction!!!!

I also used promt 76&97 from here! And if you like it feel free to request more! 🫶🏻

•・◦●○◎◉◎○●◦・•

Trying to keep this a surprise has been virtually impossible, keeping Noah in the dark for weeks about my plan to come and surprise him while Bad Omens was touring in Europe took every trick in the book.

“Oh I have no idea why my location isn't working right now babe, you know I'm so technology-challenged.” I lie. “I’m so lost with this stuff when you're gone, I'll try to fix it soon” I reassure him as I'm racing around our house packing my bag because my flight leaves in 3 hours and of course, I'm running late. “I’m lost without you too baby, I miss you so much, when are you coming out to join us?” He asks and I can hear the sadness in his voice. “Soon my love, I promise” We say our goodbyes and I pack the last of my stuff racing out the door to catch my Uber to the airport.

I’ve been coordinating with the Nicks and Jolly while planning so they have a spare key waiting for me at the hotel they're staying at so I can sneak into Noah’s room before they get back from their show.

For some reason I’m nervous, I have no idea why. Why am I nervous to surprise my husband on tour? It’s like that gitty first-date nervousness. I’m just so excited to see him again, smell him, feel his arms around me and I really, really, really miss having sex. I had to stay back for the first 4 weeks of their European tour because my sister needed help with her kids and I needed to be there for her. Now that she’s doing better I can go join him and I’m so excited. He thinks I’m staying back for an extra two weeks to help my sister but that was another lie. The flight goes by faster than I expected and soon I’m in another Uber heading to the hotel.

I approached the front desk and tell them I was picking up a key that should have been left for Mrs.Davis.

“Ah, yes, Mrs. Davis right here” The receptionist hands me the key card and directs me to the elevator.

“Thank you!” I say, waving and turning towards the elevators.

I get to the room and head inside, Noah is relatively clean so there’s just an opened suitcase on the desk, but the room was cleaned earlier so the bed is made.

I set my suitcase down and take out the things I need to shower. I want to scrub the scent of travel off of me before Noah gets me back. If my timing is right I should have another hour or so before they get back. I jump into the shower and wash off with the body wash I know Noah likes, jasmine and white tea, fresh and sweet. Finishing up I wrap myself in a towel and dry off my hair. I slather on some lotion and slide into my red lace lingerie set that drives him crazy. The garters hug my thighs deliciously, the color popping against my alabaster skin that's slowly becoming covered in more tattoos.

Now I’m just playing the waiting game, I get a text from Folio that they were twenty minutes away from the hotel. My heart is beating so fast, I am so excited to see Noah, I'm laying on the couch waiting, starting to feel a little awkward when I hear the door ping from the key card swiping to unlock. I sit up and move to spread myself across the bed, my head resting in one hand with the other propped on my hip. The door opens and closes and I hear him whistle to himself as he walks down the short hallway towards the bed. He comes into view, eyes almost bulging out of his head when he sees me, and then he tosses his stuff on the ground and throws himself on the bed wrapping his arms tightly around me. “Oh my god, you're here” he mumbles into my hair “You're here, you're real and you're here” he pulls back to hold my head in between his hands. He leans down, and kisses me, moving his lips hungrily against mine seeking entrance into my mouth quickly moving from a gentle kiss hello to a passionate tangle of tongues. “I can't believe you're here” he pants in between kisses “I missed you so much” his hands are moving all over my body “God, you're so soft” he pulls away and looks down to admire my lace-clad body “fuck, you're killing me here” he whispers in a hoarse voice as his hips press into my side and I feel the hard outline of his cock. I reach my hand down to press against his solid erection and feel the wet spot growing on the outside of his thin sweatpants.

“Do I really turn you on that much?” I ask him seductively. “You don’t even fucking know” he responds and dives towards my chest, nipping and sucking at my skin, a moan escapes my mouth when his hand kneads my breast and tweaks my hardening nipple “Ah, Noah, I missed you too” I gasp out. “Mmm, yes, say my name again,” he pants, “please Baby, I need to hear your voice” his voice comes out in a whine. “Mmmm, Noah, Noah, Noah, I missed you so much, my Noah” I graze my hands across his cheek and stare into his beautiful brown eyes, and brush my lips against his. “I missed you so much,” I say to him warmly “I need you so badly” I take his hand and place it against my warming core. “Please Noah, I need you to touch me.”

His hand cups my sex and a wicked smile spreads across his face, wiggling his fingers her purrs “Wow baby, crotchless panties, you really missed me.” His index finger slides in between my folds and he groans “You're so fucking wet” he puts his finger in his mouth and sucks the evidence of my arousal off of his fingers. He sighs “Fuuuck, I missed the way you taste, I can’t believe I survived these last weeks without you.” Noah kisses me again, leaving a trail of wet kisses down my body, stopping to lick and bite down on my peaked nipples. I’m moaning softly as he continues down towards the apex of my thighs, grasping my thighs and pulling them apart until he’s face to face with my aching pussy. “Oh I missed this,” he says and then licks a line straight up the center and circles his tongue around my clit.

“Oh, fuck” I moan out loud as he sucks and tongues at my pulsing core, my hand reaches down to tangle in his hair keeping him in place while I grind against his talented mouth shamelessly. He takes two fingers and pushes them into me as he continues sucking relentlessly at my clit, my orgasm is close, I feel it burning in my belly and when he looks up at me through his long lashes and says “Please baby, I need to hear you cum” he says and I throw my head back and cry out in ecstasy. He withdraws his fingers and crawls back up to kiss me sharing the taste of my climax. I use the kiss as a distraction and flip us over so my legs are resting on either side of his hips and I can grind my bare pussy against his still-clothed cock. “Fuck baby, you're so beautiful like this” he reaches up to cup my breasts and plays with my nipples, pinching and leaning up to suck them again. I reach down to grab the hem of his shirt and help to remove it “You're wearing too many clothes” I tell him. “I want to feel you against me.”

Moving down his body I take the waistline on his pants and pull them down to his mid-thigh, exposing the hard outline and wet spot growing on his tight black boxer briefs. I bend down to lick at the head of his cloth-covered dick and he bucks his hips at the feeling “Ah, fuck baby, mmmm yes, can I have your mouth? Please?” he begs. I nod my head and grasp his briefs and pull them down to his sweatpants seeing his large erection springs free and pearls of precum leak down the tip. I quickly lick it up and start gently sucking at the head. Noah is whining and holding my hair back so he can get a full view of my ministrations. I start to take more of him into my mouth, relaxing my throat to make room for his full length and his hips thrust forward slightly and my eyes widen as I try not to gag. I tap his hip with my hand and nod, letting him know it's okay, he starts up again slowly fucking into my mouth and moaning “Oh, fuck yeah baby, missed you so much. Missing your hot mouth, and your tight pussy, mmmm can't wait to fuck you” he’s moving faster hips pumping back and forth as his cock hits the back of my throat and my eyes fill with tears threatening to spill and my pussy throbs with need. He pulls my mouth off of him with a gasp “Ah, too much. Want to cum inside you” he says out of breath. “Get up on the bed” he commands and I scramble to get up to lay my head back on the pillow while he stands up to take his pants off fully and then adjusts to settle between my legs. He grabs my thighs and pulls me so my pussy is resting against him, I feel his cock against me and begin to grind down on it looking for any type of friction. “I’ve got you baby” he takes himself in his hand and rubs the tip against my cunt, spreading my wetness around and coating his cock with it before slowly placing the tip against my entrance and moving in. While he's pushing to be fully seated inside our eyes are locked together and we're both moaning at the feeling of finally being back together. “Fuck Noah, I missed you so much”

“I missed you more,” he says, emphasizing each word with a shallow thrust.

Noah and I like to fuck in all types of ways, but after so long apart all I want is to be held in his arms a fucked tenderly. I know there will be plenty more chances tonight for rougher sex. But, for now, he holds me close and fucks into me at a slow tempo, each thrust pushing me closer to my second orgasm of the night, he reaches down and moves his fingers in slow circles around my swollen clit. “I want to feel you cum on my cock baby and then I'm going to fucking fill you up” his thrusts speed up slightly and my climax is reaching its peak, one last thrust, hitting just the right spot, and I'm calling out his name and milking his release. He finishes with a whimpering moan and collapses against me, kissing any skin he sees and softly saying “I love you so much baby, such a good girl for me.” I run a soothing hand down his back and tell him that I love him too and that I’m so happy that I’m back in his arms.

“I missed you so much baby, this is the best surprise ever.” We cuddle in each other's arms for a while longer and then I feel him stirring again when he looks up and gives me a devilish smile. “Round 2?”

———————————

Thank you for reading!!!

[dr-futbol-blog]

The Brotherhood, Pt. 8

Sheppard, Ford, and Teyla remain alone in the secret chamber, guarded by Kolya's men up on the surface. Both McKay and Sheppard seem to be missing their watches and, given that the Genii had radio technology in the form of bracelets, they likely suspected that the watches were some kind of communicators. And, given that all the others were left in the chamber together, removing the watches can only have been intended to cut the communication between McKay and the others--Sheppard in particular.

It seems like Teyla and Ford are trying to keep up the morale while Sheppard is feeling morose. McKay is out there alone with Kolya with God knows what happening to him, and they are trapped with no way of getting out. He is not happy. He is uncharacteristically agitated.

Sheppard: This is pointless. No trap doors or hidden passageways. Teyla: There may be more than one way in here, Major. Sheppard: If you're trying to hide a chamber, you don't put a bunch of entrances and exits all over the damn place. Ford: You'd rather just sit here and wait for them to come back? Sheppard: What have you got that we can use?

He doesn't even answer Ford, just changes the subject. No, he's not going to just sit and wait, he's going to do any and everything he can. Sheppard and McKay seem to adopt a "what would the other person do in this situation?" attitude when ever they are in trouble, and you can see it here. Sheppard uses the meager supplies they have--two flash bangs--to set up a trap that might at least distract Kolya and his men upon their return.

Note that Sheppard as "a couple" of MREs with him because in Harmony (S04E14) we learn that McKay seems to habitually eat his early on and then either aska Sheppard for his or that Sheppard usually gives his to McKay anyway. The fact that he has "a couple" while elsewhere it is indicated that they usually have one implies that stocking up an extra one just for McKay is something he has learned to do by this time. In fact, as he unpacks them, he does a double take looking at them which can only be because he had some thought or memory related to them. It's not relevant to what they are trying to right then, as MREs (food) is the least useful item to use either as a weapon or in defense. We have seen him watch McKay eating them previously (Hide and Seek, 38 Minutes), so him associating them with McKay would make sense.

There is a parallel between this scene and a scene in Irresponsible (S03E13), which is where Kolya is killed. The team are held prisoner here, as they are then with the difference being that Sheppard is not with them but McKay is. Here, Ford makes a joke about digging their way out of there (he does not think that's what Sheppard is actually doing) when Sheppard starts moving dirt around:

Ford: What are you doing? You going to dig us out of here? Sheppard: Yeah, something like that. Come over and give me a hand.

In Irresponsible, McKay is digging at a wall with a spoon. They have a similar exchange:

Beckett: Rodney, you're not trying to dig your way out of here, are you? McKay: See if you can find another spoon. With someone helping, this would go twice as fast.

Note that while Beckett assumes that that's what he is doing (and, unlike Ford, he's not joking), McKay also doesn't acknowledge it. Because McKay wasn't trying to dig their way out of there, he was cutting into a wall that wasn't even an outside wall. He clearly had some other plan but we never got to hear what it was. But the thing is, there is a clear parallel between these scenes. And this suggests that Sheppard had, at some time between the episodes, told McKay about what had happened here while he had been away in some detail. There is another indication, later, that Sheppard and McKay talk a whole lot more behind the scenes than we get to see. They, specifically, not all of the characters in general. Sure, they may be playing "the game" or what ever but regardless, they are sharing intimate details with each other. And for some reason the show wants us to know that there is something going on between them behind the scenes, which is interesting in and of itself.

Outside, Kolya is leading McKay and Allina back to the secret chamber. McKay seems to have engaged Kolya in conversation. He is likewise working to ensure their safety and release (and we transition to this scene directly from Sheppard saying "Come over and give me a hand"). He brings up the topic of Sora, still a prisoner on Atlantis, as a bargaining chip:

McKay: Hey, you want Sora back? Is that what this is about? Kolya: Sora knew what she was doing, more so than most of the men. Besides, the Genii do not make deals with terrorists. McKay: Terrorists? You attacked us! Kolya: After you ambushed us on our own world.

McKay is attempting to sway someone with reason whose motivation is not rational to begin with. They also do not know that Kolya is here without the authorization of his superiors and is hence really not even in a position to broker any deals.

McKay: This is crazy. We're both just trying to protect our people. Kolya: That's correct, but if making your people the target buys my people more time, it will have been worth it. McKay: Listen— Kolya: I don't want to discuss it any further, Doctor.

While neither Kolya nor Pranos seem the least bit physically intimidated by McKay and Allina, as soon as we return to the secret chamber we see that he has forced the three capable fighters to stand with their hands behind their heads. They seem to be completely at their mercy while we know that they still have something up their sleeve.

Sheppard is watching McKay and seems to be much more at unease than the other two. For the moment, they can only silently observe while McKay is forced to try and figure out how the stones should be arranged to get the ZPM. McKay himself is paying Sheppard no attention whatsoever, as Kolya is observing him with a keen eye. He is trying to save "his team," and part of that is not drawing any attention to them while they are held at gun-point.

Pranos, whose intelligence we were asked to compare with Sheppard's earlier, is about to be proven the inferior man. This may indicate that while both Pranos and Sheppard are naturally quick-thinking, being around McKay has pushed Sheppard to take his time and think things through instead of reacting. Pranos is confident that he has figured it out:

Pranos: I think it's pretty straightforward. McKay: Well, nothing's been straightforward yet. What makes you think this would be? Pranos: The last one is the only one with grooves that match the center position. McKay: So? Pranos: So it fits snugly into place. Complete the pattern, get the ZPM. Why would they continue to play games at this point? McKay: I really don't think you understand how these people thought.

McKay is right, of course. But Kolya seems to think that he is stalling and, given what happened during their previous encounter, he is well within reason to think that this might be the case. Note what Kolya is doing in the background, here. He is easing one of his men down like Sheppard did to McKay earlier, and he is touching the man for an unnecessarily long time. He pats the man's back and even after this, leaves his hand to linger on his back, almost caressing him before drawing it away.

We have no reason to assume that this particular man, whether he is a Genii soldier or, what is more likely, a Daganian they had hired for the purpose (since it very much seemed like Kolya and Pranos had arrived on their own), had any particular significance to Kolya. But it does give us an opportunity to see what we did not quite see happen between Sheppard and McKay from another angle, just like we saw Sheppard's perspective of the previous night back in the monastery. And it emphasizes the motif of touch.

Kolya asks Pranos to get on with it, resulting in the man dying from the trap set by the brotherhood. We don't know what the nature of Kolya and Pranos' relationship was, but he is notably gentle as he tries to catch him from falling. He is not happy, and he seems to blame his death on McKay:

Kolya: He's dead. You knew this would happen! McKay: Yes. Yes, I did. In fact, I was in the middle of telling you as much when you ordered him to activate the pedestal. Look, you killed him, not me.

Sheppard is clearly prepared for Kolya to go off on McKay for this. But McKay manages to diffuse his anger by talking as he has several times by now, only this is the first time Sheppard is actually there to witness him do it. McKay looks him dead in the eye and tells him that he is responsible for the death of his man himself, seeming completely unafraid even though this is likely an act. And it is true that Kolya's rage here has nothing on his rage when Sheppard killed dozens of his men in one fell swoop that he was very much going to take out on McKay. And to his credit, McKay even seems to diffuse his rage.

But it seems like for Kolya, revenge is a dish best served cold. He tells McKay that he has four attempts to get the combination right. Now, we may assume that he means the four of them--Sheppard, Teyla, Ford, and McKay himself--given that the Daganian woman is meaningless to him and they seem to have some kind of an agreement with their people. But it is more likely he meant Sheppard, Teyla, Ford, and Allina, intending to take McKay with him back to the Genii home world in any eventuality--just like he had been intending to take him with even during their previous encounter. The knowledge that he knows or at least suspects that McKay possesses (especially with regards to the bombs they so desperately need to protect themselves from the wraith) is much too valuable to waste here. And he fully intends to see McKay suffer.

Because McKay does not recognize his own worth, he thinks that Kolya had intended to kill all of them the same. As intelligent as he is, he does not think like a sociopath and hence is unable to anticipate Kolya's actions.

And so, Kolya chooses Sheppard as the first candidate, and note again how sensually he tells him "You go first." This is the second allusion to Sheppard 'going first' in the episode and while Kolya obviously has no insight into their personal life, it is interesting that the writers clearly want us to associate Sheppard with going (but not coming!) first by driving it home with a second mention.

The difference between this scene and when Kolya threatened both McKay and Weir's life to motivate Sheppard during their previous encounter is that Kolya is not attempting to motivate McKay to do anything now (elsewhy he would start threatening to kill them off starting from whom he thought McKay cared the least). He knows that McKay is going to do anything he wants. He chooses Sheppard because he actually wants to see him die, and he wants McKay to see him die before him.

His smile is predatory, yes, but it is also erotic because Kolya is a sadist. He chooses Sheppard because it gives him pleasure, and because he hasn't bought their act for not caring about the other man for one moment. If McKay finds the correct combination, that's great. He will get the object of great power to take back home along with McKay, who is really the bigger prize for him, and he will kill Sheppard regardless. And if Sheppard dies trying--if he can basically get McKay to kill Sheppard with Sheppard full well realizing that he is going to die essentially by McKay's hand--well, that would be even better.

From the frankly sadistic smile Kolya gives him, Sheppard seems to understand all of this, too. He is much better able to follow the thinking of men like Kolya. Like McKay had done earlier, he also looks Kolya dead in the eye. Once more, they are playing a very dangerous game.

Continued in Pt. 9

[sundasystems]

2. The Footprint of a Giant

I've said before that Sunda Systems was a global company, but I don't think even I understood the scale of the investigation I was undertaking. The first thing I needed to do was get a sense of the scope. To do that I needed to understand the corporate layout.

To start, Sunda is an umbrella company that has quietly (and not so quietly) purchased a lot of technological companies.

Sunda Systems had complete ownership or majority stake in things I'd never imagined.

Some things I would have anticipated. For example, in 2021, they purchased the internet radio company Re:Mx and they had controlling interest in a broadcasting technologies company called Ressepont. For a corporation focused on wireless connectivity, these things made sense to me.

Engineering and satellite companies? Sure. Even the three laser research companies kind of made sense. I could talk myself into the idea of using lasers for fiber optics.

But then there was the medical research. They outright owned Brainwire, a tech start up that wanted to create a human-computer interface. They also owned Lotus Clinical Research and it's subsidiaries.

What on Earth would that have been for? A sideways purchase in the name of portfolio diversification?

It got stranger when I found court documents of Lotus trying to fend off a hostile takeover. Brainwire seems to have gone smoothly. If you started tiny company in your back shed and a giant like Sunda approached you with a truck of money, you're not going to turn it down. But Lotus appeared to be functioning well on its own and the CEO, James Pepper, did not want to sell.

Until he suddenly did.

Hundreds of documents and depositions were attached as exhibits to this Order.

When Mr. Pepper first files his injunction to stop Sunda from buying Lotus, it was because the swing vote on the board, John Delphine, began behaving strangely. Here is testimony from his initial October 1, 2008 filing:

It appears that John has lost his mind. Years we spent building this company from the ground up. We wrote protocols together late into the nights. We found medical equipment anywhere we could. We found doctors willing to work with a couple of scrappy upstarts. And god damnit we did it. We made this company profitable. And now? Sunda Systems waves a couple dollars at him and he's ready to sign the company over? No. No chance in hell. No amount of money is worth the work we put in here, and he knows it. I don't believe he's in his right mind, and I would like him assessed by a professional. It had to be some kind of nervous break or an addiction or something! There is no other reason he would come into my office in the state he was in. Talking so fast about the wonderful multinational conglomerate that wants to buy us out. I was only catching every three words. He was maddened! That wasn't the John I knew.

Mr. Pepper fought tooth and nail against the sale of his company by his partner. The suit lasted three months. Mr. Delphine never got his psychological evaluation. Instead, Mr. Pepper simply gave up the fight. This is a retraction that Mr. Pepper gave on December 21, 2008, leading to the closing of the case:

I now see what John saw back in October, and I apologize for thinking what I thought about him. I'm still worried about the zeal with which he approached me, but the points he made were valid ones. Ego kept me from seeing the truth. It is my wish to retract my claim of mental incapacity and move forward with the sale to Sunda Systems and I am very excited to work with them in a subordinate position so that I can continue to shepherd out company to greatness.

The recorder who took Mr. Pepper's retraction noted in the filing that the man appeared tired and defeated with red eyes.

Mr. Pepper and Mr. Delphine are now high ranking executives in Sunda's Clinical Research Division, and both have offices in the Eden Springs Campus.

I reached out to them, posing as a reporter following up on the sale years later. I asked if they'd had any regrets selling Lotus to Sunda. Oddly, they both answered the exact same way, verbatim:

"It is a wonderful opportunity to work for such a forward thinking company. I wouldn't leave it for anything."

It sounded obviously rehearsed; even more so after I heard it the second time.

During my call with the men, the webcam light on my laptop came on again, only turning back off after I had hung up. That seemed far too much of a coincidence. I don't want to believe that someone in the company is keeping tabs on me, but a company dedicated to the internet has to have someone who can hack a webcam.

I'm proceeding with the assumption that I'm being monitored. I wondered if I should try to get a new router, but every time I think about it, it seems so overwhelming. My provider uses Sunda equipment exclusively so I'd have to find a new provider and cancel my service and it just all seems too much. I'll just keep it. What harm could it really be doing?

The last piece of information I found today was an old classified add for the home of the Delphine family. They listed their Eden Springs home in early 2009 and it sold for $349,000. Quite the windfall for that era of history.

Out of curiosity, I looked up John Delphine in the Avery County Tax Assessment records and found he and his wife's new address.

They live on-site at the Eden Springs Campus in an apparent outbuilding on the same property as the offices.

Perhaps it's time for a visit to North Carolina so I can get a real look at Maple Hall.

[nkn0va]

Ok so Yukari, Marie(P4), Kokonoe and Phonon being unable to use their arms for a while for whatever reason so their s/o needs to feed them, help them change clothes, maybe even wash them.

I'm sorry if this selection of characters is all over the place I just tried to select all the grumpy self reliant women I could think of.

This is surprisingly amusing to think about. I'm fucking flabbergasted it's taken this long to get a P4 ask (I have a P3 one already I've been procrastinating on for days now lmao) but here we are.

Sorry if these start feeling a bit repetitive, this is a more niche ask and there wasn't really much else I could come up with. I still don't know Phonon that well as a character unfortunately so her section ended up being relatively short.

Yukari Takeba

-Chances are, some special shadow did some weird fucky wucky thing and numbed her with some kind of spell the team had never seen before. She was mostly able to dodge out of the way, however it managed to clip her arm.

-Strangely enough, even after the Dark Hour ended, she was still affected, unable to move said arm. Fuuka and Mitsuru would get to investigating this as fast as possible, but until then Yukari would have to cope with this.

-Unfortunately, said paralyzed arm was her dominant one, so she'd need someone to help her out. Thankfully, you were more than willing to help out.

-You'll have to write down her work for her in class and write everything down for her homework. It's a bit of an awkward situation to explain to the teachers so the best you can come up with is that she had a bad chiropractor's appointment that left an arm numb for a while.

-The real awkward situation is when you need to help her change, especially if you're a guy. She really doesn't want anyone else to be around when she'd doing so, however you're realistically her best option. Helping her change is comprised of both of you holding opposite sides of her clothes as she slides into them while you look away. She makes a point that she still has a good arm to clock you if you dare peek at her.

-Naturally until her arm's back to normal, she's not allowed to go into Tartarus. If you left her on her own she'd be bored out of her damn mind, so you choose to stay behind as well to keep her company. Technology unfortunately doesn't work during the dark hour so the two of you pass the time with board games that she's able to play with just her non-dominant hand or good ol' fashioned gossip. She has way more to share than you were originally expecting, giving you a nice reminder to be extra careful to not embarrass yourself in front of her.

-At the very least, she's able to shower on her own, albeit if using just her non-dominant arm is a bit unwieldy. No way in hell though is she letting you jump in the shower with her, even if you're her S/O. She's not nearly ready enough for that.

Marie

-It's kinda hard to choose something for Marie since she doesn't exactly do anything involving the T.V world until the end of the god damn game. Perhaps she took some sort of collateral damage after her boss that injured her arms and made it hurt too much to move them.

-Her pride does not let her admit she needs any help to do anything, she's perfectly capable of functioning normally. At least, until you ask her if she needs help. Her demeanor suddenly becomes a lot more nervous as she stutters out that it'd be nice if you did. She tries to pull the 'it's not because I like you or anything' card, until she realizes that you're her S/O, she can't exactly do that anymore.

-She begrudgingly accepts your help. She does need you to feed her which she will absolutely not allow anyone to see. She's exclusively eating at your house and will refuse to do so otherwise. If you try she'll hurl harsh words your way in a typical Marie fashion.

-It's pretty adorable, honestly, seeing her open wide for each bit of food you give her. If you try to do a here comes the airplane/choo-choo train you're going to get yourself a flurry of angry, near incoherent words as she pouts and looks away. It's pretty hilarious, but don't do that more than once per meal.

-Soon she realizes that she also needs your help to be able to wash herself, mostly because you bring it up first. She instantly turns red as a cherry in the face and tries to slap you, but quickly winces as the harsh pain of trying to move her arm shoots through her body. She reluctantly accepts you have a point.

-Ten minutes later, here you are sitting in your bathroom as Marie's in the tub, letting you wash her back for her. She absolutely refuses to turn around and look you in the eye. It'd probably be best not to lean over to try unless you wanna get a lightning bolt straight to the face.

-Undressing/redressing is a similar process. She demands for you to close your eyes as you hold her clothes in place so she can slip in and out of them. She tries to guide your hands by telling you where to put them, but it's a long awkward process. A lot of "right there! No, you idiot, over here!" is thrown around. Her ability to guide you with your eyes closed is astounding.

-Do not ever let her guide you to some surprise she's got with your eyes closed.

Kokonoe A. Mercury

-Kokonoe was under a pretty big crunch, Sector Seven's top brass had told her to get this extremely complex machine done for whatever the hell they were planning next and the deadline was fast approaching.

-In her rush, she made a grievous mistake that backfired. It ended up severely injuring her arms in the process as she was trying to tinker with it. Thankfully they didn't need to be amputated, but she'd definitely need some time off to heal.

-Being her S/O, she pretty much demanded you helped her out in her daily functions, albeit pretty irked about the situation. She didn't like the idea of being coddled like that.

-She doesn't eat a whole lot normally, just chocolate, silvervine and coffee. On occasion she'll ask you to throw a chocolate from halfway across the room into her mouth. Results vary depending on your accuracy.

-If you want to feed her proper food it'll take some convincing. Just don't tease her for the love of God and just let her eat. If you try teasing her in the same way as mentioned before with Marie you'll be met with a swift headbutt. Though whether that's worth it or not is up to your discretion.

-You'll naturally have to do her laundry for her as well. Chances are it's the first time her clothes have been washed in a while. Helping her dress again means looking down at the ground as she tells you where to guide your hands until she's covered enough for you to look again. On the bright side though, she finally discovers how good it feels to put on fresh clothes. Maybe she should actually start doing her laundry herself more often once she recovers.

-You'll have to fight with Kokonoe quite a bit if you want her to get in the bath, her being a cat beastkin with shut-in tendencies. Chances are, she'll just tell you to put some bath bombs in the water and piss off.

Phonon

-EXS can be funny sometimes, and not in a good way. Phonon went a little TOO wild with her powers while she was still getting the hang of them and her sound based abilities fucked up her arms. Moving them felt nigh impossible to do.

-Until this wore off you'd need to help her. She tries to act all high an mighty as part of her dominatrix persona in the Hollow Night, but she's actually surprisingly normal outside of that.

-She's a bit miffed at the situation but she's probably the most cooperative girl here when it comes to letting you assist her overall. She can actually realize the fact that she kinda needs you around, contrary to popular belief. She's self-reliant and confident, but she's not a fool.

-Phonon should be fine overall as long as you don't actively go out of your way to tease her. Try that and she'll promise you're gonna freaking get it the moment she can move her arms again. And considering this is the same young woman that uses a whip in combat...yeah. Best not to fuck around and find out.

-She's a bit more open to helping you wash her thankfully, just as long as you don't try anything funny. Wash her from behind and stay away from anywhere you shouldn't touch. If you do be prepared for a headbutt from behind.

[jupiter-nwn]

Heyyyy friend! can you tell me about your favorite Dream headcanons please? :3

OMG OMG OMG OMG HAIIII HAI HAI

GOD GOD GOD YES YES YES!! I GET TO TALK ABOUT MY SILLY HEADCANONS!! (spoiler alert: they're not that silly, I love to watch Dream suffer in a blorbo way) Gonna put this under a read more cause holy damn it's getting long-

Before we start, I think it's kinda obvious at this point, considering I always use they/them for Dream, that I heavily headcanon them to be Non-binary; it makes a lot of sense to me! also to list off the self-indulgent headcanons, definitely AuDHD. Like Ink. Yeah. They're both ND as HELL, and also, since I LOVE it when people think of the sanses as having their creators' nationality + accent + knowing their languages; for me Dream's spanish, which is great cause I am spanish too! and I love Dream :3

(and also bc I think it's cute that both Cross and the twins can speak spanish following that headcanon, like they can gossip in secret teehee :3)

Now, to start, well, well, well, well... I feel like people don't play enough with the fact that Dream and Nightmare are basically just energy; like, Nightmare does use his appearance and properties to kinda scare people but he's also not the same NM under the tree, so it changes, but Dream tho!!

I wrote a oneshot once on AO3 where Dream's like very excited over very mundane technology for us, and Cross is the one to kinda explain to them how that works (and NM too, it was a wholesome platonic fic with Cross bonding with the twins), while Cross also takes note of all the very... magical qualities the twins have, fae-like even. It's kinda well-known that Core and Dream are good friends but for me, part of why they connect well is bc they're both in that strange cusp of "neither monster nor human; knowing a lot about this world but still struggling to connect with it on an organic level", bc of Dream's knowledge on the balance and energies and Core's--- whole thing.

Also, it is canon that Dream has a fear of owls bc they can turn their heads 180º and they have big eyes so Dream finds it spooky that they can always look at you, and I can't confirm if this is "100% canon" but I've been told that Dream's claustrophobic as well. Now, other things that I'd say would be hard triggers for Dream, well, people say apples could trigger them but personally? I think apples must be nostalgic to Dream, both bc Nightmare and also bc they represent their mom; I'd say Dream just gets rather extreme nostalgia around apples, probably not fond of ACTUALLY eating them tho lmao

Personally, I'd like to expand on the claustrophobia thing bc of course it'd remind them of their time as a statue, the small space with no way of connecting with the outside, that'd spook them, but I wanna expand it to them getting extremely anxious whenever they can't move in any way; so like, they heal fast bc of their healing abilities and durability but if they were to, idk, break a bone and need to lay in bed for a couple hours, that'd get them very very anxious. And that comes from both the statue and also a huge huge huge need to be "useful" and "productive". Dream was also abused before NM's corruption but their abuse was more like. Being forced to please the villagers and so and so; like, feeling less like themself and more like a tool to others.

But yeah, also while I said that apples wouldn't be a trigger in the sense of making them panic, fire surely is, since it burned the tree down and is very connected to the day of NM's corruption. Basically, I do think that they panic in a major way whenever there's a lot of fire around or something really smells like burning (so imagine the situation whenever Ink tries to cook something and forgets about it later smh) like, those memories of the Day Of Doom would come back FAST.

Also, going back on that time as a statue thing, I've written posts about this before but like, fanfics often end up describing Dream as having "perfect pearly white bones" and like, probably not!! my guy spent 493 years as a statue! stone chips and erodes! their bones probably have small flaws! nothing major, but they're probably imperfect like that!!

This is getting so long, I'm so sorry 😭, I'll just list off some other miscellaneous headcanons that don't need that much more explanation: Dream, again, has AuDHD, but also AvPD (since that includes a LOT of people-pleasing and self-deprecation); definitely a workaholic if I've ever seen one. Dream's canonically demi-aro and ace + implied to be pan (as in, said to not care about the gender of their partner/s, y'know) and I kinda share that but my self-indulgent side wants them to be ominsexual like me (in practice, they're still mspec, all good all good), I headcanon them super duper heavily to be non-binary, like, their gender isn't just "blank", but it's just nothing remotely CLOSE to "man" or "woman". I headcanon them to use they/them and ae/aer :3

And. Oh dear. Oh wow. That's a huge ramble ashjgbsjdfh!! but I mean, you did ask ME, The Dream Guy, to talk about Dream The Guy, so like, yyyyyyup yup yup. But still, I'M SO SORRY THIS IS SUCH A LONG POST 😭😭😭😭😭😭

My other headcanons end up being so self-indulgent and "ooc"-ish (smh they make sense in the context of them being other au's) that I didn't feel justified putting them in here cause they're not that justified either, some of my headcanons are just so random, like my headcanon that Killer plays the violin. Why? who knows!! not me!! I have no proof!! but!!

[kit-williams]

Imagine an Adeptus Custodes though. (Can be yandere or not. Maybe Space Marine Husbandry?) But, not just one, multiple. One for each set of an Adeptus Custodes.

A Shadowkeeper, Aquilan Shield, Dread Host, Solar Watch, and Emissaries Imperatus. Each one taking their turn to guard you for reasons you don’t even understand. They are just there. Came out of the blue.

The Shadowkeeper, seems to stick by the closest. Always patrolling the homes hallway’s, and room’s. Checking out even the smallest of things out within the home. Sometimes, just standing there, by the door’s like a guardian statue for—who knows how long?

The Aquilan Shield, were always following just a couple steps behind. Acting like an assigned knight or bodyguard of sorts. A very much bigger, and enhanced bodyguard. Can’t go sneaking off, and out of their sight now, can you? NEED TO PROTEC.

The Dread Host, is a challenging one. Doesn’t take sh*t from others. (None of them do, honestly.)You can feel their heated, piercing glare from underneath their helmet. Intimidating silence. A silent wrath perhaps? Have yet to see such proclaimed fury.

The Solar Watch, also patrols. Just in a bigger/wider area. Doesn’t keep to the house like the Shadowkeepers, but rather the whole territory/property. Keeping things out like that raccoon that gets in your trash, or even your pesky Ex that just doesn’t know when to stop. You’ll know something up with the area/land, but so would the Solar Watch. Will you be fast enough to see them?

The Emissaries Imperatus, also stays close within the house/area. Learning about you, reading your books. Trying to predict your next move, and keeps you rather close. At least at arm’s length. I suppose they like your presence?

And with all of them together? You’re the most, well protected human of the planet! Perhaps, even the most pampered one too.

If yandere? Well! I guess you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.

You're just really advocating for Yandere Custodes oh god I don't think I would subject a singular darling to 5 god like beings at the same time.

But if they had to do the 5 yanderes at once you better believe it would be a smack down of demi god like proportions. But that's the Yandere thoughts.

Okay we're going back to Yandere thoughts because these are all fine for just Space Marine Husbandry and how each would react.

I would like to think their darling is literally no one important just some Hiver or menial or a lowly imperial guard and then suddenly this demi god shows up to sweep them off their feet. But then you start to learn about their job.

The Aquilian Shield Yandere yeah if their darling is a guardswoman she would be so thankful practically throwing herself at him in joy after the battle's won but then it would be frighteningly lonely as he would scare anyone else off in the name of keeping her safe. A menial darling would be far easier to just pluck away simply just receiving anything from him would make her life so much easier and then his soothing voice offering honied promises and none of them are lies? The little menial doesn't show up to work the next day. She just simply vanishes with the golden godling.

The Dread host would be aggressive to everyone else but not his darling. Another whom a guardswoman would be happy for but would also be the most likely that once she gets close enough and is grabbed she's just gone. He is not above bullying his little darling into listening to him, she has to understand that he knows best he has slain terrors beyond her comprehension and her continuing to be here and not on Terra isn't helping... you do want to go to Terra don't you little one?

The Shadowkeeper... it would be hard but I see him finding a more menial darling who maybe found something she wasn't suppose to. They hoard technology from the Old Night... perhaps she found something pretty in some pile of scrap. Does she run? Does she freeze? It matters not when he comes breathing down her neck. Even if she hands it over he might croon down at her telling her that she has to come with him just to be sure that she wasn't tainted or perhaps she was able to coax some property out they weren't expecting. She's gone like a shadow at midday.

The Solar Watch don't really leave the Sol system but when they do its because someone who could be a threat to the Sol system is coming. A desperate guardswoman on a front and then these golden godlings come to wear down the tip of the spear to make it blunt for people like her to deal with. But no one notices when she is taken just assumed another causality and not having be lured away by honey in his voice coaxing her closer till she is just gone by the time the Custodes return to the Sol system.

The Emissaries Imperatus... his darling might be a young scribe in the imperial palace writing down his words from what he had heard from his meditations or perhaps she was some short lived champion that was told to simply unlock some door or wield some knowledge. Her use done and he knows that he might not hear the voice of his master again for some time... she smiles up at him feeling so very blessed to help out at least in some part... a part that will be forever nameless to time really. Either way whatever his darling is she, like the others, is drawn in and her name will live on beyond being just a short lived obituary or unknown mortal who helped unlocked a vault... she will live on as a name carved upon the heart of a demi god.

Bleeding I hope you are happy with what you've wrought

[preciouslandmermaid]

quiet fury in your head [vii]

Dream of the Endless x F!Reader!Goddess / Sandman Fanfiction

Note: I wasn’t sure how Dream’s manifestation into the waking world worked like—is he always visible? Or does he pick and choose? So for the sake of a certain scene, I made it so both Dream and Reader are invisible to mortals. Anyway, You and Dream go into the mortal world.

No use of Y/N. See part 1 for all the tags tbh.

Warnings: This chapter has mentions of child abuse. There is nothing explicit described, but it is mentioned.

Rating: 18+

(Read on AO3)    ||   (masterpost for other chapters)  

You follow Dream across the pier. His request for your help in the mortal—the waking world—is odd. He’s never asked this of you before. But, you are bound to the Dream Lords will. Your skin prickles. Your heart feels tight. The longing you feel when he is distant has doubled—no, tripled—as you admire the straight and narrow line of his shoulders. He is often stiff. Sometimes you wonder if you dreamed your first kiss, if you imagined the way his soft lips moved over yours like shifting sand and how his pale, large hands cupped and clung to you.

He stops and extends that same, large hand to you. His fingers long and slender and elegant. A Dream-Weaver’s hand. You step forward and take it. The mounds of his palm fit perfectly within your own. His long fingers interlace yours. He steps off the pier with you in tow and the spinning that occurs is less dizzying than the pleasure of Dream’s touch. Do not let me go, you think as the whirls of color expand and spin, because I will give myself to this vortex and be done with it. The ache to be closer to him is an acute, masochistic agony. If I took other lovers, then I would not feel this way toward the Dream Lord, but—I don’t want anyone else. I want only him. But I doubt he will ever take me as a queen—as an equal—and I will accept nothing less.

The world manifests around you. The air is warm and balmy. Dream is slow to release your hand. He settles his Helm onto his head, hiding his unkempt dark hair and fathomless eyes from you. Your palm and fingers tingle from the lack and you miss the comforting pressure, the warmth of him. Yet pride stops you from reaching for him.

Remember your place here. You are his servant, he is your keeper, and no matter what desire burns inside you—the Dream Lord is to be your ruin. Remember who you are. Remember your sisters.

“This way,” Dream’s voice is strange from within his helm. It’s like flint scraping against stone. He leads you through the warm, crowded streets. A group of men pass you wearing uniforms and smoking rolled cigarettes.

You feel the war and conflict thrumming through the threads of the world. A long conflict, no less. Saliva pools inside your mouth when you inhale deeply. The knowledge drops into your mind like a stone (for even a Goddess without worship is given information). Your presence in the waking world has opened your mind to all the history and knowledge you’ve missed since being sequestered in the Dreaming. You understand all the language, the history, technology and culture in seconds.

You go within yourself. You peer through the layers of history, the shifting timelines, the strings of Fate. You see thousands of battles—old and new—flick through like the fast-flipped pages of a book. This war will last another ten years.

You sigh longingly. If only this war could be fought in your name. You would return to power. This is who you are. A Goddess of War. Desire said you were forgotten. But that didn’t mean your essence didn’t sing at the sight of battle. The large galley ships within the ports, the men in uniforms carrying guns, the cannons, the crates of supplies and gunpowder.

“We will wait here.” Dream stands off to the side of the busy street and you use this moment to scan the area. You peer over the shoulder of a boy selling papers. The year is 1805. Meaningless numbers to a God. But, you heart aches for your sisters and fellow Gods that have been lost for eons now. They pray to something else now…

“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing here?” You ask. You lean your spine against the stone building behind you and fold your arms. The salty, bay air from the port floats between your legs and over your exposed arms.

“We’re waiting for someone…” Dream replies. You roll your eyes.

“Can I wait somewhere else?”

The ruby on Dream’s necklace glints in the hot sun when he turns toward you. The large, almost insect-inspired glass of his helm reflects your personage. You cannot see his eyes, but you feel them graze over your face, neck, and chest like the sharp ends of a thorn.

His voice rasps against your flushed skin, “I need you beside me.”

“To what end?” You challenge pushing from the wall and invading the Dream Lord’s personal space. You wish you could tear the helm from his head and stare him down properly. Morpheus does not flinch or step back at your approach. He stands, hands clasped behind his back, ruby and helm shining in the sun. Your impassive, imposing, and infuriating Dream Lord.

“I need you to incite a frenzy to draw out a nightmare that has escaped.”

Your face crumples, anger turning to disappointment, to shame. “I can’t.” The words taste like acid. “They leave no offerings to me, Morpheus. They do not sing. They do not memorize our stories. The powers I once had have weakened over time”

You swallow around the lump in your throat, “they have...nearly disappeared, in truth.”

Within the Dreaming, you can shape-shift, but you suspect the reason that power remained was because Badb gave it to you. It wasn’t connected to Desire’s gift. It wasn’t connected to the Mortals who once feared you. It wasn’t connected to your Dream-Weaving abilities that are trapped inside a ring that Morpheus wears on his pinkie finger. Dream’s silence stretches and chaffs like rough sand.

Maybe he will release me...now that I have no use to him.

He says slowly, “If I offer something to you,” He tilts his head, studying you through the dark lens of his helm, “will that be sufficient?”

You purse your lips. “You would need to do it properly.”

“Very well. What is it you would ask? If it is within my power, then I will give it.”

For a moment, your thoughts quiet and your heartbeat slows. You and Dream stand in a port city in Spain, heat and saltwater, the call of gulls and the rich, melodic Spanish language dancing through your eardrums. Something inside of you tightens like a winding spring. You think of your earlier desire—to remove his helm—to touch him. Desire once said to you: “Do as you desire, always. Forget honor, or cowardice, or shame. Become the envy of all other Gods.” You aren’t their champion anymore, but the truth they spoke lives inside your core.

You are Nemain of The Morrigan, the Goddess of war, and rage, fear, and destruction. You have lived powerless for too long. A shade of a woman. A wraith. A ghost. Not even powerful enough to call yourself a Banshee. Now, Dream is offering you a gift. Anything you desire so you can help him find his missing nightmare.

Yet, there is only one thing you desire right now—in this moment—beneath the hot Mediterranean sun.

“I would ask for a kiss, Dream.”

He lifts the helm from his head, his hair stuck in every direction like the ruffled feathers of a raven.

“That’s all?” He sounds dubious.

“Yes.”

You wait for him to reject you and ask for something else. Without the helm, you stare into his ageless face, the sharp planes of his cheekbones, the universal depth of his eyes, and the soft pout of his lips. His stony expression reveals nothing. His thoughts and feelings remain a mystery to you. How infuriating...

Dream closes the small distance between your bodies. You inhale sharply. The dark, woolly fabric of his long coat brushes against your chest. His hand settles at the back of your warm neck. You crane upward to meet him. His face blocks the sun and the light is absorbed within the strands of his dark hair and forms a muted, yellow halo behind him. Your fingers clasp around the lapels of his coat for the sake of something to cling to.

“The incantation.” You remind him. Your words are a breathy whisper against his lips.

“I offer this to The Morrigan, Goddess of War and Rage, to the aspect known as Nemain of the three sisters. She who incites fear on the battlefield, whose scream foretells death, whose presence inspires courage to those who worship her.” His voice is husky, intimate, quiet for only you to hear—even though the mortals walking pass cannot see or hear you.

His long, pretty eyelashes slip closed as he inclines his head towards yours and your lips finally, blessedly meet. The lively sounds of the port become white noise in your ears. Dream’s kiss is intoxicating. You feel the burbling rush of power as it fills you like sweet rich chocolate. It feels like floating. The raw power is injected into your veins. Your heart pounds, your fingers tighten around his coat, and your mouth opens willingly to the gentle, probing touch of his tongue. You sigh into his mouth, winding your arms around the graceful curve of his bowed neck, and pressing your body flush and tight against his.Too long, too long...You lament. It has been too long since someone—a being of great power—gave anything to me.

Dream coaxes his tongue along yours in languid, teasing motions. What began as a simple offering, a mere singular kiss, has turned heady and intense. Your spine meets the sun-touched, warm stone of the building behind you. You drag your leg up, pressing your inner thigh against Dream’s hip, allowing yourself the pleasure and delight of feeling his body snug against yours. He holds your jaw, tender, your jugular exposed, and swallows the breathy, quiet moans that escape from the back of your throat. His obvious desire for you cannot be understated or imagined. He does want you.

But he will never take me as an equal. The thought is sobering and you drag your mouth away from his. Dream doesn’t move, nor does he break eye contact with you, and your bodies are pressed together as if bonded by melted wax.

His dark eyes roam your face, seeking answers to a question he hasn’t asked.

He releases his hold on your jaw and takes a pointed and deliberate step away. He returns his helm and indirectly (or perhaps directly you think) hides his face and expression from you.

“There,” He inclines his head toward of group of soldiers, “the nightmare had been following them.”

You square your shoulders. It’s time to get to work then.

The art of inciting fear is subtle like plucking the strings on a harp. You strum gently, your fingers are light, your brow is folded in concentration. Dream asked for frenzy. But there is more build up to it than one might. It’s akin to building a tower of cards. It requires a delicate hand as you follow the group of soldiers. Your concentration doesn’t waver…

Until you hear a familiar, bright voice.

“Stinky!” The child chastises and tugs on the leash of her white dog with crusty-gunk inside its eyes. You turn and face the child—I know you from the Dreaming, you think, and the little girl looks up toward you. She cannot see you. You know this. Yet, you stare into her innocent brown eyes and fear overtakes you. The memories and emotions are brief and fast like hard slaps across your face: Anger. A man’s voice screaming. His brown eyes brimming with rage. Shame. A broken vase with the porcelain pieces scattered across the floor like bone shards. Confusion. A dark place. Hunger. A dog’s paw scratching at the door. Fear.

Morpheus lightly touches your shoulder and draws you from the vortex of the girl’s memories.

“The child…” You wrestle the words from your throat, “her father harms her.”

“There is nothing we can do for her.” Dream says.

You look up at the Dream Lord, your expression and voice serious, and a simmering anger builds beneath your words. “You could send a nightmare to him. Scare him.”

“He would not change his ways.” Dream replies. “My nightmares are a reflection of the human condition. I give sleep, I give dreams and nightmares, and nothing more. I cannot interfere with the child’s fate.”

“Even if she called to you?” You ask hotly. “Left offerings and cried out for your aid?”

“I am not a God.”

You narrow your eyes and turn away from Dream. The little girl has scooped her grumpy-looking dog into her arms and is walking in the opposite direction of the soldiers you’re following. You clench your jaw and curl your fingers into fists at your sides.

The card tower falls.

A solider trips.

Their rifle misfires.

And the plaza erupts in a frenzy of alarm—fear that the enemy has crept up on them, fear that someone is hurt, fear that the bullet has hit them. You cannot even enjoy the sensation of terror. Your eyes linger down the street where the little girl went. You seek the knowledge within the fabric of the world and learn that the girl’s father is planning to get onto a boat soon.

If Dream won’t help her...there is no reason why I cannot.

************

“Dima,” You step through the cloudy mass of her homestead. “I have need of you.”

Dima places one hand over her heart and her blue skin crackles like lightening, “Anything.”

“I have need of a storm…”

Dima smiles widely and kneels upon one knee. “For you, I would conjure a hundred storms, my queen.”

You place your hand on her shoulder. It feels damp and tingles softly beneath your palm. Her loyalty is strong and welcome and you feel your lips twitch upward into the first smile in centuries.

*************

You use your connection to the child to find her father within the Dreaming. The Dream manifests as a galley boat similar to the ones you saw within the Spanish port, but the father is not alone. Corinthian sits on the bowsprit, his legs dangling and staring out at the dark ocean below. Did Dream send a nightmare after all? You approach Corinthian slowly.

He looks over his shoulder toward you, “There’s a sight I rarely see.”

“You tend to make yourself sparse, Corinthian.”

“Can’t help it.” The saltwater sprays against his dark glasses, “I think I make the other dreams nervous.”

“As you should.” You lean your hands on the wet wooden railing, “it is in your nature to be discomforting.”

“The nature built into me by Dream.”

“Did Dream send you?”

“No.” Corinthian scoffs. “This one…” His gaze trails to the father pacing the main deck below and wringing his hands together. “His darkness calls to me. His desire for wealth, his hunger for power and control, his pleasure in…” Corinthian trails his dark and reflective gaze back to you, “causing pain.”

The power Dream gifted you bubbles beneath your skin. I have the strength to cause madness again...You will need that power to deal with this disgusting pest of a man. You will eradicate him. You will ensure the child is safe and free.

“I would like some time alone with him.”

Corinthian tucks his legs beneath him, raising to his full height, and balances on the long bowsprit with ease. His blonde hair tousles softly in the warm, salty wind and the flaps of his coat flutter. He slides his hands into his pockets.

“You can have him for a price, Queen of Nightmares.” He drawls, “And I’m sure you can already guess my terms.” He tilts his head. You recall your first meeting with Corinthian and his desire to escape the Dreaming. Even at your current strength, you are bound by your duty to Desire. You cannot leave even if you had the power to.

You glance at the man pacing the deck and your righteous anger pushes you to action.

“I am bound until Dream frees me as decreed by Desire, my Maker.” You explain calmly, “But once I am free – I will be free from everyone. Gods. Endless. Mortals. If you allow me to be alone with this wretched creature then I will owe you a favor.”

“A favor?”

“Anything you wish.” You say solemnly. “And if it is within my power then I will give it.”

Corinthian asks, “Even if I ask you to harm your precious Dream Lord to ensure my escape?”

You bow your head in the barest of nods. “Yes, Corinthian.”

He jumps from the bow onto the ship deck near the large wooden wheel. “It does not hurt to have an Old God in my pocket.” He grins, his smile lean and sharp and perfectly white. “Very well, you can have him.”

Corinthian vanishes. You are alone alongside the dreamer and a wave of nostalgia crashes over you. A dreamer trashing inside their bed wrecked with paranoia due to your influence as you desperately tried to save your family. You slink behind the man. He smells of booze and sweat. You place your hands delicately on his shoulders and bring your lips close to his ears.

“The ship is sinking…” You whisper, your voice low and almost seductive. “You must save yourself.” You weave your fingers around the man’s unease regarding the war and fill toxic paranoia into his nostrils. “The storm is too strong. You must jump now! You must swim to shore.” You hiss. Your voice melodic and guiding. The man’s heart echoes the thundering clouds above your heads.

“Hurry!”

****************

In the mortal world, the ship known as “Indomptable” is taken by a storm conjured by Dima. Her anchor chains are broken and she drifts toward the offshore rocks. The man—the awful, coward—jumps from his bunk with the bite of his nightmares on his heels and throws himself from the ship.

The storm drags him deep, deep, deep.

His body is never recovered.

****************

You lounge on the grass of Fiddler’s Green. The meadow is comforting, quiet, and calm. Your skin glistens with sweat from your exertion of using your powers on the mortal. A few colorful butterflies float over your head and you smile to yourself.

The child is safe. They can call me the protector of children now. The thought elicits a queer feeling in your chest. Something close to pride and excitement. This could be my calling once I leave the Dreaming. I can travel the mortal world and incite fear in those who harm others. I could make them regret ever abusing their power.

Your hand reaches up and plays with the sunbeams flowing like golden ichor through the clouds. For the first time since your sister’s deaths and Lugh’s betrayal, you feel a lightness inside your heart, a softness that did not—could not—exist before.

Dream’s thunderous voice cuts through the calm silence, “Morrigan.”

You sit up and brush the loose grass from your cloak. You peer up at him with a bewildered expression. Why has he come to find me now?

“What have you done?” He looms over you. The grass in the meadow sways away from his tall, imposing form.

Ah, he knows. You raise to your feet and regard him coolly. He cannot make a God, a Queen, bend no matter how much he huffs and puffs and glares.

“You could not intervene on the girl’s behalf.” You cross your arms, “But I could.”

“That is not your place.” He glowers, “And it was not my command.”

“I have my free will within the Dreaming, Morpheus.” You snap, anger rising to the surface, “I made the father pay for his transgressions.” You cannot hide the pride from your voice. You are proud of what you’ve done and Morpheus cannot take that from you.

“Your meddling has cost lives.” His voice is ice and you suppress a shiver. “As long as you are within the Dreaming, you are my responsibility and your actions reflect on me and all of the Dreaming’s inhabitants.”

“If you are seeking an apology, Dream Lord, I will not give it.” You lift your chin. “Regret does not eat my heart.”

“It will.” Dream replies cryptically, “when you learn what your actions have cost you.”

Your brows furrow. Morpheus lifts his pale, long-fingered hand and Fiddler’s Green vanishes from beneath your feet and the static taste of Dima’s home fills your mouth. Dima emerges from her hut at your arrival and her smile drops when she sees Morpheus alongside you.

“Dream Lord, what do I owe the pleasure?”

Morpheus’ gaze is hard and unyielding.

******************

“You are hereby banished from the Dreaming, Dima Storm-Weaver.” He says coldly, “For your actions in interfering with the waking world at the request of someone who isn’t me.”

“Wait, Dream Lord, please!” Dima prostrates herself at his feet. “I’m sorry!” Her blue cheeks dampen with a sudden burst of tears. Your expression tightens into white-hot anger and you throw yourself in front of Dima. He would expect nothing less. Your loyalty is to be commended, but your actions do not move him. He must restore balance within the Dreaming. He cannot have his subjects bending their wills to your whims. Your gaze pins him.

And Dima succeeded where you could not. A small voice nags in the back of his mind. She had the power to help while you couldn’t. Dream forcefully pushes the thoughts aside. No. That is not the reason. He must keep control and balance within his own Realm. He can’t have you undermining him.

“If you wish to punish someone then punish me.” Your lips curl into a snarl. You are ever-so-ferocious.

Dream replies flatly, “Be grateful I am not extending your time in the Dreaming.”

“Grateful!?” You shout and lightening cracks through the clouds beneath your feet, “You ask for my gratitude when you would rip my only friend from me?”

“Perhaps you will make a different choice next time.” He tears his gaze away from your grief-stricken and rage-filled face.

“Dima.” He addresses the creature that embodies storms and rain. Dima is pure elemental force at her core. She looks up at him from her kneeling position and clasps her hands in front of her chest. Her chest cavity flashes rapidly like a heartbeat made of lightening.

“Your banishment begins now.”

“No!” You yell, throwing your arms around Dima’s shoulders, as if your physical touch could tie her to the Dreaming. “Punish me, Morpheus. Not her. She did nothing wrong but listen to me!”

********

Morpheus stares blankly at you. There is nothing of the man who kissed you and pressed your back against the warm, sun-soaked stone wall. You grit your teeth and dig your fingertips into Dima’s soft, blue-colored shoulders. Morpheus says nothing. The wind pulls at the coattails of his long, dark jacket and Dima fades beneath your fingers.

You fall forward on your knees onto the soft, white clouds and stare at the Dreaming world below. Your throat burns with a familiar, painful prickling sensation.

This is the cost of love...the cost of friendship...that it could be taken away. You blink back the tears and are adamant that Dream does not see you cry. You inhale through your nostrils and look up at him as static discharge dances across your skin and pulls small pieces of your hair.

Your voice is clear and sharp, like a silver blade running through someone’s rib cage, “Never speak to me again lest to release me from my wretched service to you.” Your words hang heavy in the air of Dima’s absence.

Dream inclines his head slightly and disappears in a gust of rain-dappled wind. You bow your head and scream into the clouds. The thunder muffles the noise, but the Dreaming trembles at the raw, painful sound of your grief.

[deathbirby]

Is Sothis an actual god?

Alright, lets take a look at Sothis's abilities/feats. What is this green gremlin capable of?

Houses - shown feats

Sothis demonstrates the following things in 3houses, where she is an amnesiac and barely considered alive:

Her first reaction to Byleth nearly getting axed is to stop time, something that she does without even thinking about it. It was a reflex. And she suffers no drawbacks from doing this!

Her way of resolving the issue is to rewind time. She calls Byleth troublesome for making her do it, but that's little reprimand for having to break the concept of linear time. She falls asleep a while after this, but that may not even be connected to the act of rewinding time.

The power she grants Byleth in Zaharas lets Byleth cut a hole through another dimension. Byleth is unconscious for a short while after this but is otherwise unharmed. THAT is the price for breaking time and space? A nap?

Her powers let Byleth come back from the dead after falling off a cliff. It took 5 years for Byleth to fully recover. That's a very short time if you consider that falling off a cliff would completely fuck you up. Think about fractured bones, ruptured organs, massive internal bleeding, etc. Those are fatal injuries. Coming back from the dead within 5 years, when it took Flayn a thousand years to recover from a near-death experience. is impressive.

Nemesis is also able to come back from the dead because of Sothis's blood. This is explicitly stated by Rhea in VW.

Her spirit is omnipresent in some form. She is aware of the things happening to Fodlan even though Byleth is dead as hell.

Houses - told feats

We are told the following about Adult Sothis's powers in 3houses, whether this is through dialogue or books:

She came from the Blue Sea Star. This star is speculated to be Sirius, which is about 8 light-years away from our planet. That's an impressive distance to travel. It would also mean she can survive in the vacuum of space.

She had the wrinkliest brain, apparently, as the knowledge she shared with the Agarthans gave rise to their futuristic technology.

She caused a "Flood of Despair" that covered the world and forced the remaining humans underground.

She healed the world after a massive war that wiped out countriess off the map. This took a long time and killed her.

Hopes - shown feats

Sothis in 3hopes is a bit different from 3houses. From what we can tell, she has more of her memories and possibly a bit more power. She is still in the form of a child, so she likely didn't recover everything.

The way Divine Pulse works in Hopes is that you stop time and move around in it, being able to attack before the enemy even gets a chance to react. It's basically ZA WARUDO. Still, moving around in stopped time? Some say that means you would have to be traveling infinitely fast.

In some cutscenes, she wipes out entire groups of soldiers with zero issues.

Hopes - told feats

She calls herself progenitor and mother to all who call Fodlan home.

Epimenides says that Sothis set the earth ablaze. Take from that what you will.

Sothis has a voice line where she states that her current power pales in comparison to her past might.

One of her lines against Shez is saying that Byleth's body is not moving as she commands. More in the Heroes section on that.

Heroes - shown feats

This is only if you were to take attack animations literally, but Sothis pretty much creates a planet and then destroys it.

Much like in 3hopes, Fallen!Byleth fights against a group of soldiers who catch Byleth off-guard in a forging bonds event. Sothis wipes these people out without breaking a sweat.

Heroes - told feats

Sothis hints towards creating many worlds like Askr.

Sothis tells Brave!Byleth that all of Askr may just be a dream of hers, that she pulled Byleth into. This is further supported by her referencing Byleth's Smash Bros trailer while she's sleeping.

Fallen!Byleth/Sothis says that Byleth is a poor-quality vessel and is stifling Sothis's powers. Meaning that the feats we see in 3hopes are still a weakened Sothis.

Devs

What do the devs have to say about Sothis?

For Rhea, Sothis is not just her mother, but also the Creator, and therefore she has goals beyond just wanting to meet her mother. 

Sothis can be considered a Creator. Does this only apply to the Nabateans? Perhaps, but that's still an entire race of people that she made from just her blood.

Kusakihara: And in the original game, I feel that the depiction of the scary side of Sothis as a goddess with absolute power, the sort of primal fear humans feel when faced with a storm or natural disaster, was something that wasn’t done, so I hoped that would be delved into deeper.

Her scary side is that of a goddess with absolute power. Facing her instills you with a primal fear, like humans feel when faced with a storm or natural disaster. She is supposed to be a force of nature from the looks of it.

The feats we see from her are insane, and they're all from a weakened Sothis whose powers are also stifled from being constrained to a vessel. These feats alone would make her a god in many eyes. Her possibly being a space alien doesn't take away from that title at all.

TLDR: Sothis is a capital G Goddess