#i haven't written them in a long while I think i'm not checking that information btw

[sadtonight]

Getting struck with a BRILLIANT idea for a hcs but then I have to decide whom to write it for mhm.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 17 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When you manage to keep your spirits high through a rough patch, Bradley is as supportive of your needs as ever. He's working hard to take care of you in every way, and when he comes home with some unexpected paperwork, it's your turn to be supportive of him.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, mentions of smut, pregnancy discussion

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

"It's funny to me that you think you're being coy right now," Bradley told Jake in the locker room. He was avoiding answering questions about his dates with Cat. Bradley knew for a fact that they went on at least two, because that's what you had told him. And he assumed that Jake or Cat had given you that information directly. 

"Some things are sacred, Bradshaw," he said as he applied his deodorant while Bradley dried his hair with his towel and started to get dressed. 

But you had also informed Bradley that the two of them had agreed to take it a little slow now, especially since Cat and Jeremiah were living with her Uncle Bernie. So as Bradley pulled on his underwear, he knew just what to say to bait Jake. "You fuck her yet?" he asked casually, barely able to keep a straight face. 

Jake rounded on him immediately, green eyes furious. "What the hell kind of question is that?" he hissed. "First of all, it's none of your business, but no. Second, you don't have to be so fucking crude about it, man. And third, I never asked you that when you were following Angel around the Hard Deck and all over base like a lost puppy."

Bradley erupted in laughter as he reached into his locker for his undershirt. "Chill, Hangman. I just wanted to see how serious you are. And furthermore, this is the first time you haven't been crude in your life. And further furthermore, you absolutely did ask me if I nailed my wife way back then, because you were mad she turned you down."

Jake stared off into space with his brow creased. "Huh. Well I am serious about Cat. And Jeremiah. But Hondo still gets a little riled up whenever he sees me. Been avoiding him on the tarmac like my life depends on it. And if I ever asked you for any sort of details about Angel, I deeply regret doing so now. Please, keep that shit to yourself."

"Happily," Bradley replied, thinking about your ass in your khaki pants and smiling. When he headed out to the parking garage, Jake walked with him. And when he got to his Bronco, he realized Jake had parked near him. And Cat was waiting for Jake, leaning against the passenger side door, looking at her phone. 

When she glanced up, she smiled and said, "Jake," with longing in her voice. And then she realized Bradley was there, too and straightened her posture like she was standing at attention. "Hi, Bradley."

Oh, they were both making it way too easy to fuck with them. Bradley grinned as he abandoned his Bronco for Jake's car instead. "How's it going? How's my little buddy, Jeremiah?"

She smiled a little cautiously. "He's great. Obsessed with dogs now from playing at your house."

"Yeah, well he's welcome any time," Bradley said, leaning against Jake's car. "Tramp loves licking crumbs off him. Actually Jake was just telling me all about your dates."

"Was he?" she asked quietly, and Bradley thought she looked pleased. Jake was glowering at him from the other side of the car, and Bradley caught sight of a car seat in the back.

"Oh yeah," Bradley said with a nod. "Jake only looks like an ass, but he's actually okay." Cat snorted, and Jake glowered harder. "Are you guys going to go pick Jeremiah up now?"

"Yeah," Jake said loudly. "Better get a move on."

But Cat just looked up at Bradley and said, "I'm trying to get him in the daycare program on base here, but I'm on a wait list. And the facility he's in now is across town, and it's really not that great. But it's affordable," she said with a bit of a shrug. 

Bradley nodded, giving up his original plan to mess with the two of them. He was pretty sure Jake would pay for a better daycare for her son if they were dating seriously. You'd told him a bit about Cat's ex husband and how she was in financial ruin. 

"Well, you have free babysitters," he told her softly. "Really good ones, too."

She laughed softly and leaned in a little closer. "Thanks. Yeah, top notch babysitters. Especially Tramp."

Bradley laughed, too, and then Jake cleared his throat loudly. "If the two of you are finished over there..."

"Later," Bradley told Cat with a grin. And when he walked around toward the Bronco, he winked at Jake and said, "Nice car seat, man."

Jake flipped him off rather discreetly, but he looked happy. When Bradley pulled his Bronco out of his parking spot, he noticed that Jake had walked around to the passenger side of his car. He and Cat were kissing, and Jake was once again holding his middle finger up behind his back for Bradley. 

When he got home, your car was already there. "Sweetheart," he called out as he walked inside. "I am on the cutting edge of the Jake gossip today." You were on the couch wrapped up in his undershirt and a blanket even though it was May, and you were eating a pack of cookies. "You okay?" he asked softly, but he already knew.

You nodded and met his eyes. "I got my period today." Your voice was bland and emotionless, but at least you weren't crying. You just looked exhausted and defeated. 

Bradley made a beeline to the couch and bent to kiss your forehead. "I love you," he promised as you looked up at him, the faintest smile on your lips. "I'll get your heating pad and some Advil? You want a glass of wine?"

"Yeah," you whispered. He didn't even take the time to remove his boots, and Tramp followed him from the bedroom to the bathroom to the kitchen in search of supplies. 

"I'll walk you in a bit. Relax," Bradley coaxed, tossing a treat that the dog caught in midair. "Mommy needs a cuddle first." And it was like the animal listened to him, because a minute later, you were snuggled up on Bradley's lap along with Tramp and the heating pad.

"How was your day?" you asked softly with your eyes closed. Bradley wasn't sure what he should or shouldn't mention right now. He wanted to make sure you were doing okay, but he didn't want to upset you over your period. He wasn't upset about it at all. 

"My day was fine. Do you... want to talk about anything?"

You sighed. "If you're referring to my period? No, not really. I'm okay, I promise. Just a little disappointed, but I think that's mainly because it came a day late, and I was getting just the tiniest bit hopeful, you know?"

Truthfully, Bradley hadn't been keeping up with your cycle, but now that he did the math, you were most likely ovulating right when he got home from deployment. "That makes sense," he whispered, kissing your hair. But he had been too happy since he returned home to let this ruin his day. "But you still got me."

You snuggled in a little closer and kissed his neck. "What's your hot Jake gossip?"

"Well...." It was his time to shine. He always found out everything late or after the fact, and you always liked to pick on him for it. "He and Cat went to pick Jeremiah up from daycare. Together."

You yawned and mumbled, "Yeah, they've been doing that for the past week or so."

"Oh," he said, slightly annoyed that this wasn't news to you. "Well, he also told me he hasn't even slept with her yet," he added.

"I know. I think he's secretly afraid of Hondo kicking his ass."

"Oh. Well, Jake has a car seat for Jeremiah now. But I'm assuming you already know that."

"Of course I do. But this was a really solid effort on your part, Roo. I'm so proud of you."

He just grunted and helped you readjust your heating pad. "I'm supposed to play golf in the morning, unless you'd rather I stay here and make you breakfast?"

"No, thank you. I feel bad enough already. But after you and Jake play golf, we're going out to dinner with him."

"We are? When did this happen? I just saw him."

You grinned up at him and said, "I was just texting Cat. Jake found a kid friendly restaurant that he thought would be great for Jeremiah. I said you'd probably really like it too. There is apparently a playground inside."

Bradley was quiet for a moment as you ran your fingers up along his neck. "Okay... that does sound really fun. Are there swings? I could push Jeremiah on the swings."

"I think there might be."

"I'm in."

----------------------------------

You managed to get up and make Bradley breakfast even though you felt awful. But he spent Friday night cleaning the house after he got you in bed for the night with the heating pad, so you figured some scrambled eggs and a toasted bagel was the least you could do. 

"Jesus, Baby Girl," he moaned, as if you had made him a gourmet breakfast. "So fucking good." 

"Thanks for cleaning and doing the laundry," you said before you yawned. But Bradley collected you in his arms and held you. 

"Thanks for being the best person in the world," he replied, scooping you up and carrying you back to the bedroom while you giggled. "Now get back in bed and get some rest. We've got dinner and the Hard Deck later." 

Then he spun his cap backwards and climbed gently on top of you with a grin. "What are you doing?" you asked, but he cut off your words with his lips. 

"Loving my wife for a minute," he muttered, kissing you hard and parting your lips with his. You tasted his tongue as you moaned, and your fingers found their way to the short hair at the back of his neck. His mustache was really doing it for you, but as soon as you ran your tongue along it, Bradley was pulling away from you. 

"Roo," you whined as he rolled off of you and adjusted his pants. 

"I'll be back after lunchtime," he whispered, and just the sight of his hand on his cock through the fabric of his white golf pants had you pouting. "I love you."

You begrudgingly said, "I love you, too. Even though you're leaving me high and dry." Then you rolled over as he chuckled and left. And you thought about his hands gripping his golf club in those soft, sexy gloves until you were able to fall asleep again.

When you woke up hours later, you were starving and decided to eat a sandwich while you lounged on the back patio. You tossed pieces of crust to Tramp and then you wandered back inside, running your finger along the piano keys as you went. The house was too quiet, and it gave you that melancholy feeling that you got when Bradley was deployed. 

For the briefest moment, you imagined a baby in your arms. Someone to keep you company while he was away. A little one to grow up knowing what it felt like to miss their dad and then be reunited with him over and over again. Someone else for Bradley to dote on. You swallowed down the miserable feeling before it could take over. A baby was not more important than your marriage. A baby did not need to happen at this moment. A child would be welcomed at any time, not just right now. 

You drew a bath, and you were barely in there for more than five minutes when Tramp jumped up from the bath mat and ran for the front door. 

"Sweetheart?"

"In the bathroom," you called, and a second later Bradley was in the room with you. "How were the guys?"

"The usual," he grunted as he knelt on the mat and dipped his fingers in the water. "How was your morning?" he asked, keeping a totally innocent expression on his face as he stroked your breast just under the water's surface.

"Missed you. Got myself a little sad, because it felt like a day when you were deployed." 

Bradley tossed his cap on the floor and said, "I'm right here. I'm yours for the rest of the day. The rest of the weekend. Until we have to go to work on Monday."

"I know," you said, your voice sounding so small as you squeezed your eyes shut. "Will you go see Dr. Genevieve with me next week?"

He answered immediately as his hand found yours. "Of course. I haven't been to therapy in years. It'll be good."

You gaped at him. "You've seen a therapist before?"

"Yeah," he replied with his brow scrunched. "College was a very rough time for me without my mom. And Mav pulled my papers. And I didn't feel like I really belonged anywhere. I never told you that?"

You were just in awe of this man and his notebooks and his open honesty right now and the fact that you were always learning more about him. "No. But I'm really proud of you."

He smiled softly and blushed. "We can go see Dr. Genevieve together. We can do everything together. But you're not allowed to make fun of me if I have more fun at the restaurant tonight than the one year old."

You shook your head and said, "It would come as a surprise to literally nobody."

----------------------

"I don't know why he's fussing so much. He's usually a good eater," Cat said, cutting up some food into tiny pieces while Jeremiah remained on the verge of tears in the high chair. Bradley noticed that Jake was looking a little stressed out, presumably because Jeremiah wasn't enjoying the restaurant as much as he had hoped. Jake had spent all morning at the golf course talking about how excited he was.

"Let me see here," Bradley murmured, picking up the rainbow colored fork and tickling Jeremiah with his fingers while he held out a bite of food. In an instant he was laughing, and then he had a mouthful of food. "You love it here, right kiddo? We played on the swings. We drew on the walls. Your mom let you eat dessert first, and Jake won you a porcupine in the claw machine. Now eat up."

"You're incredible," Cat whispered. "No wonder he likes going to your house so much."

"Nah," Bradley said as Jeremiah took hold of the fork for himself. "It's all her and the way she can read a board book like it was written by a Pulitzer Prize winner." He leaned in and kissed you as you beamed at him. Bradley had spent the better part of an hour after your bath rubbing your back while reading some of his notebook entries to you. It always really seemed to make an impact where sometimes his verbal skills escaped him. But when he wrote his feelings out on a piece of paper, it made all the difference in the world.

"Are you coming to the Hard Deck after this?" you asked, turning to look at Jeremiah as he ate. "Well, not you, little man."

"Nope," Jake said with a cocky grin on his face and his arm draped across the back of Cat's chair. "We're going to watch the newest Scooby Doo movie back at my place and enjoy some of the chocolate chip cookies that I definitely made myself and did not buy at the store."

Cat laughed, and Bradley watched as she leaned in to whisper something to Jake as she brushed his hair back from the scar on his forehead. "They look happy," you muttered, taking Bradley's hand in yours underneath the table. 

"Yeah," he agreed, carefully wiping Jeremiah's face as Cat kissed Jake like they were completely alone. "I'll roast him later for this. He always tells me we're disgusting."

"We are a little bit disgusting, Roo."

"Never said we weren't."

When you and he left the three of them a little while later and headed to the Hard Deck, Bradley was in an absolutely disgusting, soppy mood. You were singing along so badly to his favorite playlist while his hand rested on your thigh, and he was just so fucking proud of you for not letting your period take over your mood. Especially when all he wanted was to make you happy, and he knew it would have crushed him if you were being hard on yourself while he doted on you.

When he pulled into the parking lot and put the Bronco in park, he said, "I don't understand how you can sing so badly when you make the prettiest sounds I've ever heard in bed."

"Hey!" you complained with a laugh as you crawled across the seat and onto his lap. "Was that supposed to be a compliment?"

"I only have the nicest things to say about you and your singing voice," he promised with an obnoxious smile as you pushed his head back against the headrest and started to gently nibble on his neck. Soon you were sucking a little harder as your hand trailed up and down his bicep. "Oh shit. That feels great. Let's go home."

You moaned softly and licked a trail up to his ear before whispering, "Nope. You tease me, I'm going to tease you right back." Then you rubbed yourself against his cock, and Bradley tried to get his arm around you, but you were already jumping down from his lap to the parking lot. 

"Hey!" he called out with a laugh as you ran ahead of him while he tried to lock the Bronco doors. When he jogged inside, you were already at the bar chatting with Penny. He made eye contact with you, and you smirked. 

Bradley strolled up behind you and pressed himself against your butt, kissing the back of your neck. "Whenever you decide you want to behave, I'll be at the pool table," he whispered. 

You just laughed and said, "You know that's not going to happen."

"Well, come say hi to Nat anyway," he added, laughing softly against your neck. Penny was looking at the two of you together with the softest expression, and Bradley figured that was how he usually looked at you, too.  "You know, I can remember the early days before the two of you were together," Penny said over the buzz of conversation. "All the longing glances and sneaking off together." Bradley set his hand on your hip and said, "Hey, we thought we were being pretty discreet." "Nice try," Penny said with a laugh as she slid two beer bottles across the bar.  "Were we not discreet?" Bradley whispered as you and he walked toward Nat. You beamed up at him. "I guess not." He watched you walk into his best friend's open arms for a hug. And now he was thinking about every way he could be less than discreet with you tonight. You kept touching him, just some fleeting brushes of your hand to his abs or arm while you chatted with the others, but you were relentless.  When the beers were empty, you took his bottle and said, "I'll take these back up to the bar, and then I'm running to the ladies' room." Bradley just grunted as you squeezed his bicep. As soon as you disappeared down the hallway, he dug his phone out of his pocket and sent you a quick text. Meet me outside at our special spot? He waited and waited but got no response. However, when you reemerged from the hallway, you caught his eye and then continued toward the exit. Bradley was in the middle of conversation with Javy about golfing when he suddenly said, "Hey, man, excuse me for a minute."

Bradley pushed his way through the crowd, and once he was back outside in the cool, dark night, he turned and ran toward the steps at the far end of the deck. As soon as his shoes hit the sand, you were reaching out for him. 

"Been a while since we did this," you told him, your voice filled with laughter as he backed you up against the deck post. 

"Too long," he agreed, letting his lips meet yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck. It was amazing how kissing you and just touching you made him feel so good inside. The feel of your kisses was a comfort that he knew by heart, and every curve of your body fit his hands perfectly. His fingers were inside your shirt, his thumbs gliding along your ribs and up to your bra.

You moaned into his mouth, pressing up on your toes and pulling him closer. When he broke the kiss to breathe, you whispered, "I have my period though."

"I know. Just wanted to make out with my fucking hot ass wife. Penny made me nostalgic."

His rough hands were on your lower back, and your head was tipped against the post. Bradley worked his lips along your neck, collar bones and cleavage as you said, "This feels just as good as the first time. Maybe better."

"Definitely better," he murmured. "You're in love with me now."

---------------------------

You had no shame. Your outfit was a wrinkled mess, and your lips were puffy when you returned to the pool table some thirty minutes later. Bradley's hair looked like he'd been outside during a natural disaster, and Penny smirked at him when he got two more beers. 

But it didn't matter, because you were so happy. So you let the guys pick on Bradley while you laughed into your beer bottle. And when you got home, you let him lure you into the shower to have sex at one in the morning where he made you cum so hard, your echoing voice scared Tramp. And maybe the sex was better when you weren't trying so hard to get pregnant. And maybe listening to him read his notebook to you every night was doing more than you originally thought.

When you got to work on Monday morning, Bickel was waiting for your help with his most time sensitive projects. "Your ideas are always so refreshing, Lieutenant Commander." 

And when you sat in the lab all afternoon, Cat came over at one point and simply said, "You were right about Jake."

And then Bradley met you for thirty minutes where he got to meet Dr. Genevieve. You told her that you were having a good day even though you got your period, and the three of you just chatted a little bit. 

But you should have known that by the end of the week, you'd be feeling a little different. You were at home on Friday, already lounging on the couch and looking at vacation destinations for your first anniversary in November when Bradley walked in holding two envelopes.

"We need to talk." 

You popped up on the couch and eyed him carefully. "About what?"

"Two things." He struggled out of his boots at the front door as he said, "Admiral Dean's court-martial has a date scheduled. And there's also an upcoming special detachment."

The court appearance for Dean and Slayer was something you figured would be happening soon. But a special detachment? You weren't sure if you were ready to hear about it. "Just tell me."

Bradley dropped down on the couch next to you and gave you a quick kiss. "June 9th," he said, handing you the first envelope. You scanned along, reading the dates and times, and sure enough, Bradley would have to appear in full dress uniform in court that day. 

"Okay," you murmured, "now tell me about the detachment."

He kissed you again and then again, and you realized he seemed a lot more antsy about this bit of information. "Here." He placed the second envelope in your hand, but the paperwork had almost no information on it. And you were surprised to see that it had a classification code above what you were currently privy to.

"This tells me nothing, Roo."

"I realize that," he replied, running his hands through his hair. "It's something top secret. I wouldn't get any of the details unless I'm selected." He turned to look at you with his elbows propped on his knees and his forehead cupped in one hand. "But, Baby Girl... I really want to do this. I think I kind of need to."

And you understood exactly what he meant without him elaborating further. He still thought he needed to prove himself after being named the spare by Admiral Dean, and this was probably the kind of mission that would get his head on straight again and bring back his confidence. But this was also the kind of mission that would leave you at home, alone and worried. Because if he wasn't one hundred percent in the right head space, it could spell disaster. 'Top secret' meant highly dangerous. But it also meant only the most skilled pilots and weapons systems officers would be chosen to participate.

You swallowed down your fear and nudged his bicep until he leaned back and welcomed you onto his lap. "If you want to do it, then I hope you get chosen." You hated that your voice shook and tears filled your eyes, because you wanted to be encouraging for him. 

"Come here," he whispered gently, and you sobbed quietly as he held you in his arms. "It'll be okay. I might not even get selected. But if I do, it'll still be okay."

"I know," you said, sucking in a deep breath. You hated that his confidence had been shaken in this way, but he was among the best, and you were already sure he'd be going. You could feel it in your bones. 

-------------------------

I'm hoping Dean and Slayer get what they deserve. And also up next, Roo and BG visit a new bar they've never been to before with an agenda they've never indulged in before. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 18

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[neonscandal]

"Sure. So for Geto it's mostly that I don't like villains with a bigoted ideology and he's too incompetent to even fall in the "love to hate" category. Really, the worst thing a villain can be is incompetent and Geto in Vol 0 is barely better than your average disney villain. Doesn't help that he never gets pushback on his ideals. Gojo tells him in Premature Death that killing people is bad, but that's it. He spouts his bullshit about how genocide is totally necessary and Yuuta stands there like "idk you might be right, but you want to kill people I care about and that's the real crime here". Nobody really engages with his ideology except Yuki I guess, but that was before he became an antagonist. I could forgive that to a degree if he was at least a real threat, but he isn't. You don't get any of that with Geto, he's not even fun to hate because he barely provides any pushback. He's a bad villain and I dislike him as a person as well. His descent into embracing the superiority of sorcerers and resolving to kill all non-sorcerers was well written, but I don't feel for him at all. Good riddance to the guy, I'm glad he's now dead both in body and mind."

I was so sad, when reading this, what do you think?

When previously asked about JJK Antagonists I didn't mention Geto even though... he is my favorite.

It should also be said that, in terms of scary movies, I love a good creature feature or a deluge into the supernatural but, the scariest movies to me? Will always be the ones with human villains because they're far more plausible.

That summation of Geto is that person's opinion so I, personally, am unmoved by it. I've seen so many piss poor interpretations of Gojo and Geto's characterizations that it's honestly just best to let the story play out so people can retroactively come to some sort of understanding. Moreover, I think there are a lot of people who struggle to concede that, between Gojo and Geto, there was always love. Without that, you can't understand his spiral, you can't acknowledge the humanity of the villain. Moreover, to not understand Geto is to not understand Gojo. And.. since JJK seems to very much be a circular parallel between SatoSugu and ItaFushi, if you can't understand them you miss the whole story.

I'd be curious what villain doesn't have a bigoted and/or radical ideology, especially in shonen? They're meant to be horrible and hard to empathize with. Unless that person's tolerance for villainy is Oikawa from Haikyuu? Most stories hinge on the main character espousing a piece of whatever makes villains.. villains. RE: Yuji being a cursed vessel, Denji being a devil, Tanjiro's proximity to demons, Eren being a titan, Kaneki being a ghoul... I'd argue Naruto and Nine Tails but literally haven't seen the show at all to confidently compare.

Even so, let's get into Geto.

Gorgeous, gorgeous boy. So earnest, so upright... so forged to break.

I recently went on a tirade about SatoSugu which I won't rehash here because... then I'll feel inclined to add more and no one wants to see an adult woman cry today.

As a character, Geto attempts to be incredibly principled. Design wise, he is stylized with features that liken him to Buddha which I think he individually plays into as well to give himself some sort of identity. From his long hanging lobes signifying wisdom and compassion capable of hearing the cries of the suffering, to his gentle chastising of Gojo's flippancy. He believes that the strong should protect the weak while also keeping the strong in check. But... how would a jujutsu outsider come to such a noble ideal?

We know next to nothing about Geto's parents except that they were not sorcerers and, based on his affectionate ability to recognize family beyond blood ties, I think it'd be fair to make some assumptions about what typically informs a characters predilection for the found family trope. 👀

His cursed technique, I think, creates an impetus for purpose. I don't know how he figured out he could do curse manipulation. But we know he swallows the curse, the likes of which is compared to a rag that had been used to mop up vomit, in order to subjugate it. This process, this martyrdom of ingesting the negative run off of mankind has to have a reason to justify his suffering. Because, as the only person we see with this technique, it must feel like a burden only he knows. Moreover, with a special class technique, it's not like he's given much of a choice. But if it helps people, if it has meaning, purpose... he can endure.

We've seen the perfect storm of events that, don't necessarily challenge his pre-existing ideals, but... force him to question whether the ends justify the means. We can call each of these events a moral injury and I don't think it's a stretch to say that there is a link between staunch morality and radicalism which I'm going to bastardize as saying a person may have their ideals on a righteous pedestal. Believing that if I do "A" and "B" then "C" is sure to follow and it allows them purpose and reason. But life is seldom free of other stimuli. I'm not going to go into great depth about examples of this but suffice it to say, this break in Geto's belief system caused an internal chasm we see immediately.

When Gojo asks him if he should kill the believers that applauded Riko's death, Geto said "no, there'd be no reason" which I believe is sufficient for Gojo since he readily leans on Geto as a moral compass. But Geto keeps rationalizing further, likely to curb his own impulse to kill those gathered ignorantly in celebration. OP talks about no pushback on his ideals but the truth of the matter is the biggest pushback for Geto is internal.

When he decided to slaughter that village, he didn't leave a margin of error to come back from. He had to keep moving forward, keep pushing to achieve this impossible world because to not would mean that the atrocities he committed were done in vain and we know, from his characterization, that he would not be able to accept that. Gojo speaks of Geto not starting a war he can't win during JJK0 which is empirically incorrect. When they parted ways in high school, Geto relented that with Gojo's power, his vision could come into fruition. They both knew he didn't have the means to achieve this but he didn't have anything else to stand on. So he hurled himself further and further from his previous path of righteousness and further from himself. He'd committed too great a sin to not give it meaning. To question it now would shatter him completely.

So much of what makes Geto compelling is the fact that he is inherently characterized as a good person, forthright and gentle. He'd have been a great teacher. In fact, the events that transpired between Gojo and Geto are why Gojo is a teacher in the first place. I believe he tried to be a great father figure to Nanako and Mimiko (again, let's forget the murder for a minute) because he pointedly did not raise them in the ways or traditions of jujutsu society. He protected them as best he could even though they still didn't survive their teenage years because they were ignorant about binding vows with sorcerers! Crazy when you think about it. Even what he thought to be a kindness to them cost them fatally.

Things happened to him, likely intentionally, to create this departure from reality and the jujutsu world. He was forged to break because he lacked the flexibility and nonchalance to not be overly concerned for others. He wasn't a diabolical genius, he was overly compassionate and at a complete and total loss when terrible things continually happened to good people who were already sacrificing so much. Riko Amanai was resigned to give up her short life to guarantee the future of Japan. Haibara was a ray of sunshine who, with the means to do so, wanted to help people. The twins were simply cursed to see things the other villagers couldn't, a burdensome reality that damned them to a life he was finding no meaning in, himself. His weakness perhaps lay in a weakness of character? but I wouldn't even say that, honestly. He's like placid water hiding a violent undercurrent deep below the surface.

The gap between who he was and who he died as should be jarring. It should be a demonstration of the grisly reality of jujutsu society. Where classes of 2-3 children are regularly pressed to fight beyond their means against horrors only they know. The sacrifices of the few to protect the many regardless of their virtue. That's the point. He was a casualty of a system that would always lead him toward a moral crisis.

[scarletarosa]

Something I've been curious about: Do the deities take issue with portrayals of themselves in fictional media? Like if there is a character written in their likeness or close to it, do they take issue with it and see it as a sign of disrespect? (Thinking of media like God of War, Marvel Comics, etc.)

Also will they become upset with people for indulging in those portrayals even though they can differentiate between the character and the deity?

I'm super new to this and wanted to check with someone that has experience in the field, and since I've been on and off of your blog for a while I thought you seemed like a trustworthy source of information.

Thank you for your time!

Typically, the deities (and demons) haven't seemed to appreciate any of their portrayals, but since it's such a common thing they usually ignore it unless the portrayal is overly insulting (then they may take action against it). One thing that the gods always take action against in their portrayals is when a game or other media portrays them as corrupt, or that you have to kill them. So God of War, for example, is hated by all the deities and they tend to not speak to people who play these games and enjoy it. Similarly, the new Assassin's Creed that so awfully portrayed the Norse gods is hated by this pantheon.

But most times, the gods ignore the portrayals because they're so used to humans being like this. You're allowed by them to indulge in these things (besides the games that include killing them - it wouldn't make sense to do this if you're pagan anyway), but you have to remember not to take their portrayals in things seriously, as they're just caricatures. So as long as you can differentiate, as you said, you're all good.

Thank you for asking <3

[optiwashere]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @amorficzna last week to share whatever I'm working on. I'll tag... @siyurikspakvariisis and @grousebrood if y'all have anything you're willing to share! Anyone that sees this and feels like doing it can consider themselves tagged by me.

I don't have a WIP I can share prose-wise, so instead here's a wall of Asheera character notes! My love and light, my weirdo who likes objectively bad poetry.

This is basically written to be notes for me, so it's like a behind the scenes more than anything. Also, the second chunk of this relates to a post I made last week, so CW: Character death.

Asheera's age as of BG3: 32 (33? She was 35 in old notes last I checked, but that was 14th century DR and for a 3.5e game so her age is kinda up in the air at this point)

Height: 6'7" (~201cm)

Weight: around 260lbs. (~118kg)

Eye color: Brown (described as ruddy brown, like darker red clay)

Hair color: Black with faint blue streaks (not dyed, a fun lil extra happenstance from her Gondian transition)

Dialogue snippets from Asheera when talking to others about Shadowheart:

To Zevlor. "Do you remember what it was like to take your oath? How you felt suddenly right, and whole, and everything made sense? Don't get all puppy eyes at me about it, but yeah... it's like that with her." (author's note: from Zevlor's perspective, Asheera is explaining a relationship in a way that finally makes sense to him. She should be speaking slowly, as if to savor the words.)

To Aylin. "Oh, she's stolen her fair share of things, perhaps killed a person or two in the name of her former Dark Lady, but aren't we all monsters in our own way? A little redemption never hurt." (author's note: Asheera is an Oath of Redemption paladin in canon but in-game I couldn't pick it; she is explaining to Aylin how their relationship ever started. Asheera is trying to joke, badly, and it doesn't really work on Aylin. Probably followed by Aylin trying to rationalize all her evil deeds as necessary to find Selûne.)

To Isobel. "Is she devout? Eh, that's a question for her. I know she keeps little trinkets of the Moonmaiden around. I've made some for her, too. But if you're expecting her to join you in prayer or something, I'd temper that." (author's note: Isobel is excited to hear about Shadowheart's Selûnite worship. She is decidedly less excited after this conversation. Asheera finds this hilarious, and Isobel probably chides her for it.)

To Rolan. "No, listen. She didn't steal your books. Why would she want them? It's all magic gobbledygook anyways, what use would she have for them?" [back and forth] "And? I love her, but I wouldn't just lie to your face about her. I've an oath to uphold." (author's note: someone stole books from Sorcerous Sundries, and Rolan is somehow convinced it was Shadowheart. He trusts Asheera, but still thinks she's lying.)

To Gale. "I can't believe you haven't had Shadowheart over for dinner yet, especially since I was already coming." [Gale explains he has, but Tara was unhappy afterwards and it's been a whole thing.] "Oh? Didn't Tara like her? And why didn't she tell me she was here?" [Gale, after rambling for a long while on the meal he cooked for them all, explains that Shadowheart called Tara a cat. Not once, but twice. The second was accidental.] "Oh. Oh, I see. Yeah, no. That makes sense. Gods, I can't wait to ask her about tressyms when I get home." (author's note: Asheera should be just about bouncing on her seat with this information. Razzing a supposed once-master Sharran spy for social faux pas is way too much fun.)

To Astarion. "I wish she'd join us for these chats. I know she misses you terribly, even if she won't admit it." [Astarion makes a snide remark about how he doesn't miss Shadowheart.] "Whatever you say, but I'll remember that next time you ask how she's doing." (author's note: apparently Astarion and Asheera hang out often? Again, Asheera is an Oath of Redemption paladin, so redeeming a vampire spawn is like crack for her.)

To Karlach, should they ever meet again. "OK, OK. You're crushing me." [Karlach finally lets go of Asheera after a bone-breaking hug.] "She's coming, the whole ritual exhausted her and she needed a rest while you two came back." [Karlach razzes Asheera hardcore about her "tiring out" Shadowheart.] "I did learn that magic circles require all sorts of interesting components..." (author's note: this would be whatever the fuck would lead to Karlach and Wyll being pulled back from the Hells to have a normal, happy existence on the Material Plane.)

To Wyll, same as Karlach. "I wouldn't worry about Shadowheart." [Wyll says something to the tune of stinking like the Hells because of all the time he's spent fighting alongside Karlach.] "Seriously, I don't think Selûne is going to demand she pester you about it. She's not Isobel Thorm. Let's go celebrate, you've nothing to fret over! Seriously." (author's note: essentially, Wyll is even more worried about losing himself similarly to how he talks about not feeling like he can be the heroic figure he wants to be as in-game. If it's from his POV, he doesn't believe Asheera. He goes with her to celebrate with Karlach and Shadowheart, but he should be distant and withdrawn.)

To Lae'zel, same as the last two. N/A (author's note: they wouldn't talk about Shadowheart. Asheera & Lae'zel are on respectful terms, not friendly ones. Pretty much they'd only talk about how beating Vlaakith's ass is going. Fuck the Lich-Queen.)

Age of death: 94; extended lifespan due to the way Gond "rebuilt" her for her divine transition/gender affirmation. (I headcanon Shadowheart as early fifties, so she would be early 110s when this happens)

Dialogue snippets from Shadowheart after Asheera passes. A lot of this is melodramatic because I love melodrama:

“I lived fifty years without her before, I can manage it again.” (author’s note: she is lying poorly to whoever she’s speaking to with this line. Anyone remotely insightful should see this.)

“Sixty good years. Sixty-one and eleven months we had, when some have a fraction of that or never find it whatsoever. If ever there was a woman that could make those years feel effortless, it was her. But now it’s only the road and the care of strangers and their pets and livestock for me. It’s a quiet life, and I like it.” (author’s note: Shadowheart seems to lose herself, fall into herself when she’s talking about how long they were together. Logical brain trying to hide her broken heart. Whoever is hearing this should realize that Shadowheart has those years practically memorized. Memories are so important to someone who didn't use to have them before. When she speaks about her current life, she does seem content if cold. It’s different, and she is alone, but she’s happy with doing good, simple work. Pressing the matter of loneliness will just make her annoyed/angry/generally upset.)

“It was the thirteenth day of Eleint, 1554 by... by Dale Reckoning when she left me. No, that’s wrong. She didn’t leave me. That was the day she was taken from me. I couldn’t move her until the nineteenth, and I slept almost not at all. She’s buried near the sea, by where we lived together. I thought she'd want to be by her parents, but no. She wanted what she wanted, and I couldn't deny her anything. Ever. I visit whenever I pass by. I'm due for a visit with her youngest brother.” (author’s note: Shadowheart is clearly broken by this, but she must soldier on regardless. Wistful. Listener/reader gets the sense that Shadowheart always "just so happens to" pass by. Whoever is hearing this dialogue cannot comfort her at all about this, and trying to do so will make her very angry. She's been through this for decades by this point, she can't go through it again.)

If I were to tag this like a fic, it would have the "Angst with Happy Ending" tag. Interpret that however you wish until I make a fic about this.

[titleknown]

A Couple of Essays I Did On Artists' Rights And AI Art

So, I'm gonna be posting a couple of essays I did on Pillowfort on AI art and the talk about datasets, the second one having been written a couple of weeks after the first.

Long story short, while I'm sympathetic to traditional artists' concerns about the dataset issue, as a copyright minimalist I'm also scared about how much they're parroting copyright-maximalist rhetoric in a way that's taking some dangerous routes to be used as tools for big Copyright to further increase its death-grip on culture, and maybe we should use this occasion re-examine the way we think about copyright and how we handle the idea of the moral rights of the artist in light of this issue.

Long story long... well, that's why I'm putting it past the break:

On AI Art Datasets, Copyright and "Theft"

...On the AI art issue, I will confess as someone who's cared about how bloated and awful copyright law is for years, it genuinely disturbs me that everyone's talking about the dataset for... well, really most AI art as an act of deliberate theft, when the reality is significantly more complicated, and the conception of it as theft feels like it's pushing people down a dangerous path they're not entirely aware of.

The thing is, the LAION dataset, which everyone refers to, is basically an attempt to crawl the entire internet for basically everything that has alt-text and sort it by how well the alt text matches up with the images. That's it. It's literally like a search engine crawler with the intention of "map the internet" rather than "find art".

And it is very; very dumb and brute force. That's how it ended up going through medical records, not any sinister intent, but because it's so stupid it looks for anything public with alt-text.

You can and probably should take issue with that, because it indicates failures to anticipate this on LAION's part and massive security failures on the part of those holding the data (And really this whole issue is more about data privacy than copyright) but it's not an issue of their intent being bad; it's an issue of the failure to account for that factor.

Another thing, it is actually very bad at categorizing artists by name. Like, through my multiple checks in the "Have I Been Trained" site; unless you're a big name professional artist, it almost definitely will not catalogue you by name.

If someone's looking to use your name in a prompt to avoid commissioning you, they are fools swindling themselves, and you should disabuse those cretins of their illusions, if only to discourage that behavior.

That's not to say I haven't run into the works of smaller artists I know (Who I've informed when I have, for the record), it's just that for better or for worse their work is genericized...

....Tho if you run into any works from artists you know in a dataset search, you should probably tell them, just so they're informed and can have it removed if they want.

And, following from that, for clarity's sake, even if you are informed, I don't think it's invalid to be scared of the potential impacts of AI art and the issue of data privacy (Which issues with the dataset are, as Tangibletechromancy talks about). In fact, I did see a post on Pillowfort expressing those sentiments that was relatively understandable. 

And it's not like there's no issue with the way they draw from the commons. As I've talked about before on my Tumblr, it's abhorrent that certain models draw from the commons but then make their models closed source and put them behind a paywall. Because it's taking from the commons and giving nothing back. 

Hell, the only reason I'm able to find other artists' art and inform them so they can have it taken out of the dataset is because Stablediffusion at least makes its model Open Source and its dataset publicly visible, both of which I think should be required for anything that uses that public data scraping. 

And it sucks that Midjourney and OpenAI are getting a lot less scrutiny than Stablediffusion when SD is arguably the one doing it the most correctly (Though I have heard MJ plans to eventually make itself Open Source, which, we'll see), and the former two ought to be looked at with a lot more skepticism...

...But my point is, it's less of an issue of deliberate theft and more Google Maps finding that one house of Barbra Streisand's she didn't want found. It's a survey of the commons of the internet trying to get as wide a picture as possible, for a set of "rules" as to what images look like (Note the AI model stores none of the actual images) and the conception of that as "theft" is what disturbs me.

Because, the idea that that 1/600,000,000th of a random image might end up influencing another's work without authorization relies on the idea of any derivative works as theft. 

With that 1/600,000,000th it takes less direct inspiration than an artist doing a pastiche or; arguably; even drawing from common experience would; even accounting for the other factors influencing it in an artist's mind because; hey; the AI has that too; as this post from friend of the blog Tangibletechromancy talks about.

It's an alien form of such compared to humans, but it is a form of that, because the dataset is big and dumb and anyone who's worked with stuff like Stablediffusion knows it reflects how dumb that sort of learning is.

And criminalizing that would definitely have knock-on effects, as this post by Trent Troop points out. Disney doesn't want to outlaw AI art; it has enough of a treasure hoard of works which it owns the copyright to to train its own. It wants an AI only it can use while drawing from copyrighted works, while copyright walls off access to it to everyone else. 

And it disturbs me so, so much that a lot of people against this are fanartists not knowing the precedent this could set; or hell; even the fact that the guy who started the train rolling on this moral panic; RJ Palmer; got his start doing Pokemon fanart, because the legal precedent that criminalizes this could very easily criminalize that too.

And, on a personal level, I have heard that argument well before that people should "stop stealing and Be Original," by people who... basically want to criminalize the concept of derivative works in general. People who believe that copyright should be perpetual, despite the concept of copyright as anything other than a temporary legal protection being very; very young from a historical perspective.

Like, you would not believe the shit I have seen. I have seen my producing teacher in college, who's most prominent producing credit was one of the worst modern horror remakes, argue that copyright should be perpetual in a metaphor comparing art to a family gas station. I have seen one person argue that the concept of derivative works itself should be outlawed to prevent them from diluting the original author's intent.

That person ended up rallying most of the other folks on a Discord server against me and driving me off of there. Not that I'm bitter or anything.

And I see that pattern in AI art, the animating sentiment that "derivative works are theft," with the same old "But it's different this time" framework laid over it. And believe me, I have seen enough "It's different this time" sentiments to be deeply skeptical of "but it's different this time."

In fact, that is why I'm scared in a way that motivates me to post this, because upon seeing anti-AI-art arguments going on like in the comments of this one post by the Staff of Pillowfort, I'm like, "oh god, I've heard this before," and where I've heard it before ain't good.

I see people trying to make the treatment of AI art akin to the way the RIAA treats music, despite the fact that that would be a horrible idea as this post points out, and people talking about wanting Disney to "save them" from AI art even though; again; Disney's more likely goal would be to use their own in-house trained AI to cut jobs while preventing anyone else from using it.

And I am deeply demoralized by the fact that over the time I've cared about it, from a perspective of material change this issue of fighting back against the bloat of copyright maximalism has basically never gotten any better (beyond the "Luigi wins by doing nothing" concession of stuff finally being allowed to go into the public domain very slowly in the US), and is very likely to get even worse

I have been angry for years that there's been no real legislative efforts to; say; decrease copyright duration or expand fair use, and now I'm living to likely see fair use shrunk even more. I will curse RJ Palmer's name until the day I die for single-handedly sparking this moral panic and basically undoing decades of work by copyright minimalists to kill the copyright cop in people's heads over a matter of months.

I come to my positions on AI art from years of being angry about copyright bloat and seeing the same patterns in the idea of it as "theft" as I do on people who were defending our current copyright nightmare before this, and I wish more people would push back on that. 

And if you have concerns about AI art and want to shape it right, I will point out, we have a Discord server...

Thoughts on AI Art and Moral Rights

I had some Thoughts wrt the debate on moral rights with regards to AI art datasets that I figured I might as well share with y'all, because I think the issues raised are more complicated than a lot of people say, and not in the ways y'all might think.

Like, it's a common talking point in the pro-AI-art circles that, even if the fair use defense were cracked down on, big megacorps that own huge swaths of images; such as Disney, Warner, ect, could still use the images they legally own; without the permission of their creators; to train their own AIs.

Which could, of course, lead to the same nightmare job loss scenarios that folks are talking about; again using artists' works to replace them without their permission, except the tools are behind a corporate wall and with no copyright ambiguity because; again; they own the images wholesale.

I've in fact heard it argued that; with the whole attempts by anti-AI-art people to join with Big Copyright's astroturf organization to expand copyright, that's what Disney wants, more crackdowns on copyright so they can use their own AI and you can't.

So, it's not a case of respecting artists' rights or don't. It's a case of whether everyone gets to use this tech at full power, or only Disney/Warner/et al are able to use it while the public gets a significantly weaker version trained on Wikimedia et-al.

The artists' rights; as articulated by those who are against AI art; are already fucked either way. Which, I am not saying as a gotcha. 

Rather because, while I know which of those two options I'd prefer,I sympathize with the fact that it fucking suuuuuucks for those creators who care about the moral rights of artists, and I want to examine institutionally why things are like that.

To start, a question: Why; beyond the legal reasons; is it okay for monopolists like Disney to violate creators' rights to control their work in that way; but not for wider-scale open-source projects like StableDiffusion to?

Some would say that it's because the megacorps pay and ask them. But, those often also end up as theft far more egregious than image synthesis programs do.

We all know the way that Spotify's "royalties" pay only pennies to creators and most of the actual profit to Spotify and the record labels that own the music themselves. Some even predict that that's how a license for using one's images in AI would go, which I think should give you pause.

And, we all know those stories of Marvel artists and writers wasting away in poverty and disease in their old age while Disney makes billions of the MCU and doesn't give them a dime. Totally legally allowable, they did get paid a pittance, once, but the billons more they never saw a dime of makes the difference in money not given to artists between them and the AI's unauthorized use more or less academic if we're going by sheer proportion.

One could argue it was even worse in the long-run, because AI's use doesn't technically force the subject's art behind a copyright wall and prevent the original user from using it, whereas the copyright landlords do, but that's probably it's own debate I can't get into at the time.

My point is, what the megacorps do is just as much theft if not moreso than what image synthesis training does, and the thin veneer of payment only obfuscates the vast degree of theft they do, which they only get away with because of how thoroughly it has been normalized.

And that's even before we get into the fact that it's hard to say you "consented" to it when your choices were "have the thing not exist and starve on the street" or "give us total control over what you create/"

But then, the natural answer of course you'll probably say after that to my first question (Why is it okay if Disney trains on my work without consent but it isn't for SD) is, of course, that it isn't.

But then, if you think of it purely in terms of copyright law (ignoring the fair use arguments for datasets), there should be no problem with what Disney does. They were "given" the copyrights fair and square, in the same way you would "give" a mafioso protection, but it was still fully sanctioned by the copyright system.

And yet, in a moral sense, there is. And, I think an important idea to articulate why this is a problem is the idea of moral rights.

The concept of "moral rights" in art is one that I don't see talked about much directly. Long story short, it is the idea that the artist has the rights to not have their work mangled and to be credited. Notably, it is considered a separate right from copyrights, non fungible in the way those are.

Note also that, it does not legally exist as a concept in the US, at least not to the significant degrees it does in other nations. But, I've noticed that the way a lot of people talk about copyright basically conflates the two. 

Which makes me wonder how much this debate comes from a US-based perspective, but I digress.

Like, a lot of the dialogue I've heard on why copyright is sacred; and especially from those who think it should be perpetual, isn't just about economic fears, but about the fear of your work being messed with and warped by those who don't understand it. 

They see copyright as the end-all be-all when it comes to protections for moral rights, because of how interchangable the two concepts have been made in the public dialogue. Copyrights require authorization from the holder to work with, they place the mark of their creator upon them, therefore they are thought of as valid insurance of those.

But, the point I'm leading to is this viewpoint doesn't really work. Because copyright on its own is a godawful protector of moral rights.

Like, the problem with copyright as a protector of moral rights is, it depends on a landlord model of security, IE the idea that individual ownership of "property" (even intellectual property( rather than collective protections will keep you safe. 

The trouble is, as Cory Doctorow has pointed out with regards to regular landlords, not only does that sort of commodification create a grotesque incentive to make things harder for those who don't have it (Such as, say, small creators with new ideas crowded out by legacy IP), but in the end power always gets consolidated under that system under the big guys.

Lucas sold his creation to Disney, Eastman and Laird sold theirs to Viacom. The fungibility of copyright; the ability of it to be bought and sold on the market, makes it a terrible means of protecting moral rights if you have to sell it to make a living, because once it belongs to a megacorp, they can do whatever they want with it, and that consolidation makes it harder for artists like you to show up.

In the case of collaborative works done under big megacorps, it's even worse because you have to give away those rights from day one to allow it to even exist. Look at what happened to creators under the whole HBO Max purge, copyright did nothing to prevent their work from being erased.Copyright did not do a thing to protect their moral rights.

Even in the case of estates, Doctor Seuss would be rolling in his goddamn grave at the Ilumination Lorax, and I'm pretty sure you can faintly hear Tolkien clawing his way out of the earth at Rings of Power being made by Jeff "Sauruman" Bezos.Copyright did not protect their works from desecration.

But the way we conflate moral rights with copyright in the conversation is very useful for those IP hoarders who want to expand their grip over the collective creative commons. It creates a broad base of public support amongst working creators for these copyright power grabs even if, as Doctorow mentions, it only benefits the top players due to their ability to buy everyone out and use their monopoly power to squeeze smaller creators further.

In fact, to bring it full circle, that's why I talked so much about why we need to push back against the idea of "theft" in datasets. Because the rhetoric of "theft," only makes coherent sense through a copyright lends, because how different piracy or derivative works actually are from; say; physical theft. 

There's a reason why "You wouldn't download a car" is a widely mocked concept. And I think that the accusations of theft are doing that exact same work of conflating moral rights for the artists to control their work to copyright, and as I have stated before, that is a very dangerous game.

This is why, I think, those of us concerned about moral rights need to start imagining means of protecting moral rights beyond and in place of copyright, because the conflation of them with copyright not only is ineffective, but also leads to those massive power grabs that undermine moral rights via monopolies. 

And, when you think of moral rights beyond the lens of copyright, it opens up far; far more avenues of thought to you.

Like, for example on AI art, the idea I've heard to focus on image scraping as a data privacy issue and not as a copyright one, because as a friend said the copyright angle is the least concerning use of scraped data for machine learning TBH. 

Or, to encourage practices such as Are We Art Yet's rules of ethics, which I think is deeply useful as a framework for engagement, and any AI art community should adopt them or something similar...

...Tho, thinking about it, a lot of the fears with regards to AI art and moral rights relate to Pillowfort user osteophage talking about how Tumblr; and to an even greater extent other social media sites like Twitter I'd assert; undermines community and the process of building communal norms, and how a lot of the fear is regarding to the breaking of communal norms in ways that'd devastate the commission/small artist economy.

Though that's its own ramble, which a friend of mine has sorta-addressed, but which I do want to give my own two cents on in the future.

Point is, I think the issues raised with regards to rights via AI datasets raise much deeper; more long-term questions regarding the nature of moral rights and the way they've been co-opted by copyright monopolists, and I urge you to direct your thoughts to those questions and what answers you might have for them.

If only because it will allow you to act much more wisely upon this topic rather than being lead around by the nose by copyright monopolists on it...

[teamdilf]

Desire, fear and future for Ceci, Aurelia and Scarlett please?

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

Cecilia - More than anything else, Cecilia wants her children and Castis to be OK after she dies. She wants Garrus and Castis to learn how to get along, and she doesn't want the family to fracture when she's not there to hold them together. Early on in her illness she's very open about this with Castis, because she needs him to cooperate and make the effort to change, and figure out how to be what his kids need him to be.

Aurelia - She wants to be an artist and an architect, and she wants to help make Tuchanka a better, safer place for the krogan. It's a dream she's had from a very young age, and her entire family knows it, and when needed, step in to help her onto the path to reach her goals.

Scarlett - Scarlett is a tougher one, but ultimately, I think she really wants to understand herself and where she came from. It was tough for her to find information about her family - she had so little to go on, and that makes her vulnerable to a biological relative who was hoping to grab hold of her and use her as a bargaining chip. Luckily, this doesn't wind up happening, but it does really make it clear to the rest of her family that they need to help her learn about her biological family.

fear: What is your OC's greatest fear? What do they do when confronted with it? Are they open with their fear, or do they hide it away?

Cecilia - For a long time, losing Castis is probably number one, which then expands to losing Castis or one of her kids.

Aurelia - I'm going to go with two here: ceiling beams, because one fell on her during the war and seriously wounded her, and losing her dad. The latter is cruel of me, because I'm (very) slowly writing a fic about the last year of Adrien's life. Aurelia is taking care of him and working on a graphic novel biography of his life, and it's such a deeply sad story that I can write a few hundred words at a time, and then I'm crying and need to switch off to work on something else before I cry myself into a headache.

Scarlett - She's very shy and is afraid of public speaking - a fear she needs to get over as she moves up the ranks in C-Sec, because once she hits a certain level, she's expected to participate in media briefings! Castis is probably the only one who knows just how much this scares her, and he'd visit the Citadel and give her some tips, as a fellow quiet introvert who had to periodically participate in such things during his career.

future: What's the worst possible future for your OC? Are they taking steps to avoid that outcome? Are they even aware it's a possibility?

Cecilia - Ooh, I have a darkest timeline that I hinted at where Castis opted to remain in the military so they wouldn't have to do a whole year of long distance while Cecilia was finishing school. The ship he served on was destroyed and she realizes just how closely she came to losing him. I haven't written it - I'm not sure I ever would, but she doesn't take the loss well.

Aurelia - Remaining in the military after she wound up shot by a sniper when she was 21. She was deeply depressed and struggling, and eventually admits to herself that she hadn't checked for a sniper because she was hoping, deep down, that she would get hit. Had she not been transferred, I think she would have wound up killed in action.

Scarlett - Had she gone to Chicago to track down her uncle, who was the head of an organized crime syndicate in the city, he'd probably have taken her hostage. She becomes aware that it was a possibility and it does frighten her to think about what very easily could have happened, and that it would force her parents out of retirement, because they'd rush to Chicago and make sure not a single person responsible for her kidnapping survives.

[placegrenette]

"Gap" album thoughts.

[Edit 7 September 23: Welcome, readers of Dave Moore's Substack! I am a little abashed, like I haven't swept the floors correctly before inviting you in, since the below was written with an audience already familiar with Ninety One in mind. Ninety One is a four-member pop group based in Almaty, Kazakhstan, and active since 2015, and I have been following them fervently for several years now, largely because they make excellent-but-also-thought-provoking pop music. If you would like a more detailed introduction (and reviews of their songs), go here, and if you like what you read below, check out the essay series on idol pop I wrote featuring them back in 2020. And if the term "Bloody January" doesn't mean anything to you, see this reblogged post or this series on The Diplomat for context.]

I'm still having them. The work ain't that deep, I can imagine you saying; there's an argument that by spending so much more time thinking about this album than any of the thousands of other albums it's theoretically competing with, I'm going to IKEA-effect my way into arguing that Gap is a better album than it is. But it's just as well that I waited this long, since we now have information we didn't have access to back in early July, namely: the album seems to have tanked enough that Ninety One is presently planning to take a poorly-defined, all-encompassing, possibly-multi-year hiatus after their planned concerts in Astana on 25 August and Almaty on 1 September (which will be the eighth anniversary of their debut and the release of "Aiyptama").

I honestly don't know exactly what's going on; I've been feeding fansite Instagram Stories into machine-translation engines for a couple days now in hopes of getting more information, without much success. Apparently ZaQ was complaining on TikTok that Eaglez weren't streaming or generally appreciating the songs enough. (Keep in mind that, since there's no physical copy of Gap that we know of, the bulk of the album's contribution to Ninety One's revenue will be via streams.) The hiatus threat may simply be a poorly-thought-out, short-term PR strategy to goose Eaglez into action. I hope not; I'd like to think these guys are above blackmailing their fans. There are two other possibilities, to my mind:

Things actually aren't that bad. They pinned a lot of hopes on Gap, and cooked and recooked it; they've said several times that this album means a lot to them personally. @qforqazaq mentioned in a reply here that they've been losing ground to newer artists such as Shiza and Yenlik. They may be taking the lower-than-expected streaming numbers more to heart than they should, and acting in unexpected frustration. If that's the case, then we'll get a walking back from the "hiatus, no activities, no solo albums" stance they apparently took on TikTok fairly soon. (One argument in favor of this: I find it hard to believe that Alem would agree to commit to no solo releases. I find it even harder to believe that Veronika would stand idly by while Alem committed to no solo releases.)

Things are actually worse than they indicated, and "multi-year hiatus" should be understood to mean "we're breaking up but don't want to say so too bluntly." In this scenario, they're burnt the hell out and possibly losing money. Managing a music group post-COVID is proving overwhelming; they're losing that audience that extends them sympathy, and the opposition that has plagued them since "Aiyptama" has not gone away, in fact possibly hardened—that might explain why they haven't booked tour dates anywhere but Almaty and Astana. Disbanding-without-disbanding allows Bala to study in the United States (all I've heard is "Bala is thinking about going to the United States to study," no further indications of when, what, or where), Alem to continue the TV work he seems to enjoy, ZaQ to focus exclusively on rap, and Ace to try out acting again. If that's the case, then no amount of frantic streaming-party arrangements will dissuade them.

So now Gap has some baggage it didn't initially have, as The Album That Might Have Undone Ninety One. And if we're losing the group—I sure as hell hope not, though Scenario #2 above feels more plausible the more I think about it—then what did we get in return?

Gap didn't do what I expected it to do. Go back and look at my predictions: I'm almost 100% wrong. (Bala did cutely speak some Korean in the "Biz" behind-the-scenes video, though.) There's almost no English. There's not even a song called "Gap"! (Or, for that matter, any sign of the song that closed out ZaQ's "Angst" trailer.) One of the things it didn't do, that I was expecting it to do, was disappoint me. Almost nothing misfires. I found "Aperem Ai" fairly bland on first listen, and still am not sure what they were trying to accomplish with "Dunie," but generally the songs range from good to really good. I'll review them all one by one in upcoming weeks, but suffice to say I'd put "Blue," "Ego," and "Zulym" up there among their best works.

It could just be that my taste and the taste of the average Almaty teenager don't match up. But I have an idea about what's going on with Gap that may have made it less of an easy sell. Granted, this is an idea based on much ignorance, and if you know I'm wrong, you should absolutely pop into the notes or my (unreliable) Ask box and say so. Or reblog. Or email me. Or post to /r/stupidamericans. (It exists!) As soon as better-informed people shoot my theory down I'll update. That said, here goes:

One of my wrong predictions was that we wouldn't get English subs for most of the album. As it turned out, every song got official English subs with its YouTube upload. Hooray! So I pulled all nine SRT files and compiled them into a Google Document, because after my first listen or two of "Zulym," especially, I started to wonder if there was a theme poking out.

I shouldn't make too much of this, translation difficulties being what they are, but it hasn't been all that clear what the album is about. In the Esquire podcast ZaQ claimed that the Gap era stretches back before the album and will continue after the album (not for much longer if y'all break up, she mutters bitterly). I think @bbcblackjack said they said it was mostly about things in their personal lives, but a lot of this album reads unhappily, and their lead lyric-writer is, as best we know, happily married. Ace said at one point that it was a transformation of their grief. But grief over what?

Let's go to the English lyrics:

Bad habits are quickly transmitted, and who did you adopt yours from? If you are looking for energy at the bottom of darkness, you must know that it will absorb you The power of today is the brain Only a fool doesn't know it  Because he's just an unloved child in a ruined house He is seeking the debt he gave to love in the crowd and devouring others It's like a cycle of depression, get out of it, love yourself! ("Jur Mapelep")

It's like I'm disappearing, even if you hug me ("Tartty")

The looted soul is in the same state, Looking for own heart at the bottom of the wine In this city there are only zombies There is no sense in them! Just like in you! The soul locked in your body is howling... Don’t look in the mirror at night Don’t look in the mirror at night Otherwise you’ll see who’s inside there  Otherwise you’ll see who’s inside there  There’s sadness there, there’s the night there Your smile won’t return there now ("Blue")

To retreat without fighting Together from the same fate Is pure defeat Such an end Is mutual trauma That does not pity anyone - What kind of weapon is this? ("Ottegi"; that's the chorus)

What happened to this world It is filled with anger and pain Who will heal the heart That hurts so much? What happened to this world When will we change it? Love is the last fortress For humanity I'll run away from the city, I'll run away from home I’m running away from myself, when will I start to believe in myself? I’m running away from everyone, I’m running away from the world I’m running away from you, when will I come to myself? I’m hiding once again, and coming out, I’m suffocating An evil, destroyed world I’m running away from my own guise, I remain alone How many people like me are there? ("Dunie")

They say there are only ashes and burns left after us... Your external point of view on me Is wrong, because the screen is blue, but not because of us but not because of us They say about us we had sold our souls, their lives Are like a sweet biscuit And I just worked tirelessly, Yo, if you move like me, You'll catch fire on the first day ("Ego")

It's definitely the end of the world... Like a villain in love  Leaving nothing of this world I’ll ruthlessly burn everything to ashes... It is necessary to go through various difficulties, work hard, to burn everything!... I can do it for the sake of love, and they can just do it.  Who's the real villain? Huh?  Who's the real villain? ("Zulym")

So there's a great many invocations of "the city," and a desire to get away from a city full of zombies; a lot of references to fire, smoke, ashes, and the destruction of burning everything down; a number of references to the "villain"; a desire to be the villain; an idea that "the villain" actually gets things done, even if the actions are destructive. Otherwise it's just running, hiding, retreating without fighting, and a subsequent self-contempt.

Y'all, if there's an obvious candidate for "the city" in Ninety One's work, it's Almaty. And, for those of us who weren't there, a reminder: this is what Almaty looked like a year and a half ago.

Another reminder: as best we know the guys weren't able to do anything. "Batyr and I were going to go to the rally," Ace told Elle last year, "but when we heard explosions outside the window we changed our minds." (I've since heard that one of those explosions was near enough to Alem and Veronika's home that they had to flee.) Their city was burning around them, and they couldn't stop it, and they couldn't get online, and whatever hopes they had for a better-governed Kazakhstan melted away minute by minute, and a year and a half later they still haven't been able to do anything. In short: I think Gap is Ninety One's reaction to Bloody January.

Now, again, they haven't said this. So it could be that I'm totally off the mark. And I really have no idea what conversations about Bloody January look like in Kazakhstan right now. It could be that there's lots of room to talk about the protests and the destruction and the general awfulness openly, and Ninety One's restraint makes them look weak-kneed. It could be that there's no room to talk about the protests and the destruction et cetera, and Gap is an unwelcome downer. If you're going to make pop songs, the Kazakhstani populace may be saying to Ninety One, then make, you know, pop songs. Entertain us. Leave your grief out of it.

And Ninety One did in fact try to make pop songs. "Aperem Ai" aims to be a sweet little love ditty; I'm not surprised they've marked it as the next single and plastered it all over their TikTok. "Tartty" is a very pretty gift for your lo-fi playlist. "Blue" is Ninety One's equivalent of "Midnight Sky." "Ego" is a relatively straightforward assert-our-virtues-destroy-our-enemies-and-provoke-the-lamentations-of-their-women track. But Gap begins with "Who is real here? Who is real now?" and ends with "Who's the real villain?" As if the guys can't get away from the possibility that they're the villains, even though they didn't burn anything. They sure don't seem to think they're the heroes. Which may be why "Biz," as an introductory volley, sounds less convincing than "Bata" and "Men Emes" did.

I think it's a better album for including the grief, for what it's worth. But then, I would. One of the things I've loved about them all along—emphasis on "long," it'll be seven years come November—is that they always seemed to want to do more than just make pretty pop songs, and do more with their pretty pop songs than is usual. It makes them a richer and more interesting group. You think I could have written essay after essay about just any group? But it's possible their ambition, combined with Kazakhstan's current ambiguously ominous political situation, ended up coming back to bite them.

I really hope not. Obviously. I'd rather have them separate and fulfilled than together and frustrated, but more than either of those I'd rather they be able to accomplish what they want to accomplish as Ninety One, and not walk away feeling battered and impotent. Greedily; I'll miss them, if they go. It'll feel like a meaner, less interesting world without them.

But y'all tell me if I'm way off base. And I will be doing individual song reviews: Spotify has credits available (albeit not separated into music and lyrics). Look for those coming up, though I may not be able to get to them right away; I had to put off some chores to get this written.

[sflow-er]

7, 9, 23 🫀

Hi you!! Thank you so much for the ask - and I must say I absolutely adore your use of the anatomical heart emoji!

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of?

I had to think really hard about this and about what even counts as worldbuilding! I've never done a full AU, and I don't really feel any type of way about the fics or originals from my younger years anymore.

However, I am really proud of the way I fleshed out Henry and Walter's characters in 'Other people's secrets,' and considering we hardly know anything about them from the show, I'd say that counts! I put a ridiculous amount of effort into expanding their personalities in new directions, imagining the other people in their lives, outlining their stories before Hillerska, constructing their last names, and so on. Some of it showed in the fic, some of it was just background information for my own reference. I'm not complacent enough to say the characters I ended up with felt like real people, but I was tremendously happy with how they turned out.

9. How do you find new fic to read?

I want to preface this by saying that I haven't had much energy to read anything lately. New stories by writers I already love or random fics with a really interesting premise may occasionally be read immediately if I happen to be in the mood, but most fics have just been going on my ‘marked for later’ list.

As for how I actually find new fic... Mostly by chance! People may occasionally recommend fics to me or I may see several people praise a particular fic, but for the most part, I just stumble onto something with an intriguing premise while scrolling a fandom or ship tag on tumblr or ao3. Oh, and of course there are also fics I check out purely because I’m interested in the writer - maybe I loved their other stuff, maybe they commented on my fic, maybe we just talked on tumblr.

When I do open a fic, I read the description and start notes, the tags and a few paragraphs from the start to see if I want to put it on the list or read it right away (or neither). The threshold is higher for E-rated fics or long unfinished fics, but I don’t categorically rule those out; it all depends on how interesting the fic seems.

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to?

This one I already answered for someone else - but in addition to that, maybe an enemies to lovers fic. I’ve never written that trope, and it might be quite challenging to write a suspenseful but non-toxic narrative with a believable ending.

Thank you again for the ask <3 and sorry for taking so long to reply! Question 7 was a really tough one, haha.

Ask list for reference.

[dangerous-advantage]

For the ask game, 7, 10, 14, and 62 👀

[link to ask game] (thanks so much for the ask! sorry this took a while, i have been procrastinating :P)

7. How do you choose which POV to write from?

short answer: i have no fucking clue

long answer: i have some ideas but it's complicated

the big thing for me, other than 'what is the best way to make the plot move forward, and who is the best character to see that through,' is keeping povs balanced. unless i have ulterior motives, or i feel a certain pov is unnecessary/redundant, i try to give everyone their time to shine.

this isn't to say there's a specific formula or sequence i'll follow, it's more of what "feels right" for their individual arcs and what needs to happen for them to get to a certain point.

pacing also plays a really big part in it. pov can be a lifesaver in imbuing a sense of time into the narrative. you can create "transitions" in the story by shoving a well-placed pov in there that takes the eyes off of the main action for a bit.

my biggest struggle with this is balancing pov and what i want the audience to know. when you have a lot of perspectives, things can get messy fast, so "checking up" with you audience about what each character is up to is vital to the plot feeling smooth.

however, this can be at odds with the utilization of perspective itself-- i.e., each character will have different insights on a given situation. withholding information to create as sense of tension can be as easy as avoiding a certain pov, and favoring one whose perspective will be less helpful in a given situation.

this can be really fun, and if you play your cards right, create really intriguing, satisfying plots with reveals that work. but doing so can come at the risk of suppressing another characters' pov.

all this aside, i really don't have a great explanation. there's no real process here for me, other than outlining, hoping for the best, and if that doesn't work out, writing and rewriting until i find a perspective that works.

10. Control + F "blinks" and copy/paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up.

fun fact: for my current wip, i have four separate documents, each containing a different version of the draft. the first one is for my really rough draft, the second is for my rough draft, the third is for my 'god why' draft, and the fourth is for my final draft.

given all of this, you would think i could find the word 'blink' somewhere in that whole mess. but apparently, as of this post, i have not written the word 'blink' a single time in arc II.

so, because i still want to do this, i ran a random word generator and got 'constant' instead.

here's what i got (not even my beta has seen this yet, haha):

"Everything looked damp and new. Rivulets of water raced each other down smooth stone [walls,] collecting in shallow pools and rocky crevices. Years of constant run-off had shaped the walls, each minute drop chiseling away sediment to be swept away and deposited elsewhere."

(from an upcoming chapter of 'it was futile;' may be subject to change.)

14. How do you write emotional scenes? Do you draw from personal experiences?

i could be all tongue in cheek and say, "all writing stems from personal experience," but that's a cop-out, and a generalization. plus, i love to talk about myself, so... /silly

for the most part, when i'm writing emotional scenes, i'll try and get into a character's head(s) and explore what i think their reaction would be.

that doesn't mean that i don't or haven't used my own personal experiences as inspiration, or to really get myself in the headspace i want to be in for writing a certain scene.

usually, when i'm going in to writing a certain scene, i try to imbue the entire thing with the underlying sense of whatever emotion i'm trying to evoke. if i need, i'll also try and get myself in the 'mood' of whatever the scene is supposed to be via brainstorming, or listening to music that suits the scene.

music is a big part of my writing process. some people cannot stand background noise of any kind when writing, which is understandable. i generally prefer music without words, but if i know a song well enough, i can sometimes put it on loop and just let it play in the back of my head as i write, anchoring me to a scene.

well-written emotional scenes are my bread and butter, because there's so much meaning you could drag out of just a small, quiet moment. most of the emotional 'scenes' i write aren't really 'scenes' in the traditional sense, but instead just little moments in the narrative.

these serve to build-up characterization and character dynamics, two things i enjoy exploring in my writing. i'm more of a character-driven writer than a plot-driven one, though i try to balance things where i can.

62. Thoughts on cliffhangers?

if anybody has ever read my writing, they'll probably notice i tend to spend a lot of time building suspense, whether i mean to or not. i enjoy writing, and i do like myself a good cliffhanger.

i don't have any polarizing feelings on this. i know some people hate them, and i understand. i think what it comes down to, for me, is whether a cliffhanger can justify itself.

it's the same thing with twists-- if you have a twist just for the sake of having a twist, it's probably not a good twist. you want your reveals to impact the narrative and the characters in a way that feels important.

in my mind, every twist or reveal should be a metaphorical step. after you learn this information, there's no going back. the story has been impacted, and from now on, this information will be important and relevant to the story. there's no closing pandora's box.

for cliffhangers, it's little different, but the guiding principle is still the same: don't have cliifhangers just to have cliffhangers.

cliffhangers are an extended reveal. they're a narrative device that, if used correctly, should elevate your story. they're also very good for pacing and pov changes. sometimes, a cliffhanger just makes it's way in there because that's the natural progression of a scene.

a good cliffhanger carries it's own wait. you learn something new, or something happens that leaves you going, "oh my god, what's gonna happen next?" and then when that thing happens next, the cliffhanger will have only made things more satisfying.

if the reveal isn't satisfying, you shouldn't put in a cliffhanger. it's like double-jeopardy: if you get it right, the pay-off will be big. if you get it wrong, you might have just ruined a huge aspect of your story.

practicing restraint here also means that when you put a cliffhanger in, it hits even harder, just because of the novelty of it. it raises the stakes. you lose that if you overuse them.

[themelodicenigma]

I almost sent you this ask a few days ago, but after seeing your latest anon, I'm definitely going to send it now: an actual thank you for outlining how Fang & Vanille were written as sisters. As someone that's been in this fandom for as long as the game has been out, I find myself both leery and weary of everyone that claims that F*nille is "basically canon," and the implication (or the explicit accusation, in your last anon's case) therein that everyone who doesn't agree has failed some arbitrary morality check.

This is the only qualm I have with F*nille shippers - a lot of them are pretty chill, but I sure wish the rest of them would stop spreading fanon interpretations like wildfire and then harassing people that don't conform!

Thanks for this! I appreciate it, a lot actually. ^^ It's nice to get one that is on the same page.

I'm right there with you—stuff like that has been around for a while, though in the early days more people were outspoken in how they felt they weren't romantic, even still after LR. I've met some good shippers as well, but in my experience, they are eclipsed by the ones that share the same commentary as the last anon.

All in all, it's "typical fandom" as some say, but I'll never condone it. It just isn't necessary. If what you ship or interpret isn't the truth or isn't based on the tangible evidence, it's fine. Like, it's fine. It's not about how people see things between Fang and Vanille as romantic, whether it's about personal experiences or feelings about their actions, but rather, it's about realizing how limiting those two things can be on the ability to understand and accept when it's something else. There has to be a settle point of what we're actually dealing with. And we can just, talk about it in a real discussion.

Although media can, at times, make it difficult to tell what's what (usually on purpose artistically), these points exist and can still be agreed upon—of what can be considered truth, personal interpretation, open-ended, whatever is the arguable stuff of "this is supported/not supported", etc. When it comes to media, I don't think people realize how easy it is for these lines to blur, especially when there's motivation to do the blurring ourselves—we make it hard, when it can already be hard enough to figure stuff out. Or worse, we make it hard when it's EASY to figure stuff out. So, when the media gives you what you need to understand it, I don't think that should be taken for granted or made irrelevant just because of personal desire to make it so. And sure, there are points outside of just personal that can be made—but recognition of the limitations of said points should still be recognized when discussing possibilities, and THEN weighing the possibility against direct information that supports it. Context and execution still matters.

Fang and Vanille just haven't been treated this way. They haven't been REALLY talked about.

FFXIII fandom has had years to do it, but the forefront of the characters isn't treated this way. There are things said, but never explained completely or logically, such as the points I made in my original post. Those things are regurgitated over and over, but never a real discussion of the actual context and logic surrounding them. "Fang and Vanille slept in the same bed"—you have people say this and spread it around, but not at all, formulate a real discussion about it. But, misinformation and misconceptions spread VERY easily in fandom, like no joke, and they can be treated as truth even though it factually or even logically is not quite right. Certain interpretations take the forefront, even if they're not completely in regard to it's origin. Every fandom probably has stuff like that, I know personally of points in the Kingdom Hearts and Dragon Ball Z fandoms.

Just keep it simple—if what has been described for them allows understanding of everything between them, why SHOULD it be wrong or less viable than something that, well, has not been described? If no conflict exists, why create it? Knowing this shouldn't be hard, it's just when we reach the road blocks based on limitations of knowledge, experience, just personal motivation, etc.

And, if you think there IS a conflict based either on the material itself or your own experience, okay let's actually talk about it. Sure, understanding can still meet it's road block from the above, but even a "agree to disagree" is still better than whatever that anon was. At least the right information is in the atmosphere, where THEN discussions of perspective and understanding can be had.

It just hasn't happened enough, if at all.

In general, the FF fandom suffers with these things a lot from my observance, it definitely isn't just for Fang and Vanille or XIII. It really shouldn't be such a fight to say "Fang and Vanille are like sisters" because all avenues of information and logic are available for this to be understood. It just sucks because, yeah, while I definitely don't want people to feel like they CAN'T ship them, at the same time, I wish the full information and understanding of the characters was at the forefront. Especially when it's actually something that can be appreciated and enjoyed too, and to a lot of people, platonic relationships are something that need to be recognized more often. Not in the casual "oh they're sisters, of course they love each other" way, but rather in what otherwise is a REAL depth that matches, if not, is even sometimes greater than some romantic depictions. And actually have a genuine appreciation of that depth, and not see it as "less" because it's not romantic.

I feel like we could get there for Fang and Vanille, but it just depends on how many more years will there be people willing to share and discuss what pertains to them.

[broiderie]

Well. I got part of the fic written. Figured I'd post what I've got an see if anyone besides me thinks it's worth continuing.

Please don't copy, translate, or repost my work anywhere else. My mind is deranged enough without adding anyone else into it.

Also, I have no idea how to format. I'm posting and writing on my phone so it's unedited and definitely unbeta'd. I also haven't written fanfic in 10+ years so heed the warning that it may suck.

Thanks @drabbles-mc for encouragement and letting me bounce plot points off you. I may actually have an idea where this is going now.

Warnings: swear words, talk of death and drug use (if I missed anything let me know.)

This is currently a Taza x daughter!OC

Lost Princessa

Taza sighed with relief as he stepped into the casino with his brothers. They had a big meeting with the Chinese in a little while, but in the meantime they could rest and gather their wits. The younger brothers split off to do their own thing. They were headed for the tables with strict instructions to keep Coco contained.

Bishop and Hank turned to follow El Padrino to the bar when Adam, one of the tribal elders stopped Taza.

“Che, someone showed up here looking for you a few days ago. She asked for you by name, brother. Said she's family.”

Bishop frowned at him. “Taza – thought you didn’t have family, hermano.”

“I don’t.” He turned to Adam. “Who is she?”

“Says she’s your kid.”

Taza's eyebrows shot up. “I don’t have a kid.”

Taza wasn’t a stranger to women throughout his years with MCs, but no one had ever informed him they were pregnant or claimed a child was his before. “How old is she?” If she was young, he would almost bet it was a ruse.

Adam opened the pad folio and pulled out a photo copy of an ID. The name on it was Megan Morales. It listed her age as 26 and her address as somewhere in Tennessee.

“I’ve never even been to Tennessee.”

“Well, brother, it's your name on her California birth certificate. We checked – it’s legit.” Adam pulled another photo copy from his folder.

Bishop waved Hank and Marcus off to send them on to the bar where they could keep an eye on the younger members of the club. “Who's her mother?”

“Birth certificate lists a Gabriella Morales.”

Taza stopped cold. “Gabriella? Are you sure?”

“See for yourself-" Adam handed Taza a copy of the girl's birth certificate.

Bishop studied his brother’s face. “Do you recognize the name, brother?”

“Yeah. She was a hang around when I was VM. She left before I did though. Just disappeared. Guess I know where she went now.” He turned back to the tribal elder. “Where is this girl?”

“We called her in this morning and put her in a small conference room since we knew you’d be in today. Conference room 12, when you’re ready.”

Taza took a deep breath and nodded before turning to Bishop. Bishop spoke first. “What do you wanna do, brother?”

“This meeting is too important for my personal shit to screw us up. I'll deal with this after our meeting.”

Bishop nodded. “Let’s get a drink. I think you need it.”

Meanwhile in a conference room halls away, Megan sat playing with a cold bottle of water. She’d come to the casino as a last ditch effort to escape her past and hopefully find the man who was supposed to be her father. The frayed sleeve of her flannel soaked up the condensation as she picked at the label causing her to shiver.

Tribal elders had told her that Mr. Romero should arrive at some point today when they called. They’d asked to make copies of her ID and the birth certificate that she'd found among her birth mother's papers a week ago. She’d let them make the copies and then been escorted to this bland room “to wait".

So she waited. And waited. And paced. And waited. And paced some more. They’d brought her a sandwich and chips at lunch that she’d picked at but nerves and exhaustion had her stomach in knots so most of the food remained on the table in front of her.

Hours passed. She had long since stopped pacing and did her best to concentrate on what she’d say the first time she met Taza. She removed the letter that she’d found with the damning paperwork and read it again. So much of it was rambling from her mother’s untreated mental illness, but enough could be deciphered to explain her mother’s strange position. According to the letter, her birth mother had never intended for Megan to know who her father was – but had provided the information for the birth certificate in the chance that Megan could use the tribal connection later for benefits. If all else failed, it would be revealed after her mother’s death allowing Megan to make her own choice about finding her father.

The letter was dated days after Megan’s third birthday.

A knock sounded on the conference room door startling her. A member of the casino security team poked his head in. “Ms. Morales?”

“Yes?”

“Mr. Romero just arrived for his scheduled meeting. He’ll be here as soon as it’s over to meet with you. He sends his apologies, but his meeting can’t be postponed.”

Megan nodded. “Of course. Thank you.”

“Do you need anything ma’am?”

“No. Thank you.”

He nodded and shut the door quietly.

Megan took a deep breath and tried to settle her heart rate. She’d meet him soon.

The meeting with the Chinese went exactly as planned- assassination and all. After finishing the celebratory drink with his brothers Taza sighed. His rings caught in his hair as he ran his hands through it. “Bish- I gotta go handle this shit.”

“I know, brother. You want back-up?”

Taza thought- physically he shouldn’t need back up and if he did casino security were all there. Mentally- having his brothers- his best friends- at his back may not be a bad idea. It also would reveal more of his past than he really wanted the younger contingent to know about him yet. “Wouldn’t mind a cool head or two to help me figure this out.”

Bishop nodded. “I’ll send the Idiots for food. Padrino too.” He looked at Hank. “You good to stick with us?”

“Course. Riz and Creep can babysit.”

Bishop and Taza nodded and poured another stiff drink while Hank went to give out orders. Ten minutes later Bishop, Taza, and Hank were headed to the conference room holding a key part of Taza’s past.

The conference room had a glass door and Taza paused to get a look at the girl claiming to be his daughter. Her dark hair was braided nearly to her waist. Her face wasn’t visible. Her hands blocked his view. Her slumped shoulders were covered by a green flannel shirt that had seen better days. Stained jeans with hole in the knee nearest the door were cuffed- obviously too long- above worn leather boots. She’d clearly been through the wringer.

He glanced over his shoulder at his brothers. Hank and Bishop gave encouraging nods. They’d follow his lead.

Megan startled again as the door opened. She’d zoned out. Too mentally exhausted to think any more. She jumped to her feet knocking the now warm bottle of water to the floor.

She faced three men in leather kuttes. It was obvious that two of them were there as support. The one with the longest hair had tribal jewelry and was the most likely candidate to be Mr. Che Romero. He spoke first.

“Ms. Morales?”

“Yes. Megan – please.”

“I was told you wanted to see me. I’m Taza – Che Romero. These are my brothers- Bishop and Hank.”

Megan nodded nervously. “Yes sir. Can we sit?”

Bishop smiled, “Of course.”

Whether consciously or not – the three men took up positions at the long conference table as if they were back home in Templo. Megan settler herself back in her chair facing them.

“I’m sorry. I know this must be a shock for you. Hell, it was a shock for me. I’m sure the elders showed you the copies.of my papers. I have the originals here. They were in with Gabriella’s will. I only received them last week.” Megan’s leg jittered subtly shaking the table.

Taza lifted his chin from his steeples fingers. “Her will? Gabby's dead?”

“Shit. I should have led with that. Yeah. Gabriella died over two weeks ago. It took the state a bit to track me down.”

“Woah, sweetheart. Deep breath. Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Bishop asked firmly. He could see the nerves rolling off the girl. She was practically vibrating with tension.

She took a quick sip of water and nodded quickly. After a visible deep breath, her shaking hands settled a little.

“Right. My name is Megan Morales. I grew up in foster care is Tennessee. My birth mother is Gabriella Morales. I haven’t seen or heard from her since my third birthday. She was reported as rambling in the supermarket and was taken into custody for evaluation. Two days later, someone realized she had a kid and came to the apartment to find me.” She adjusted in her chair and glanced at the terrifying trio at the other end of the table. “Apparently her lifestyle recently caught up with her. She was found dead in her apartment by the apartment manager. Track marks everywhere. OD'd. She had a will and papers at her bank. The state liquidated any assets she had to pay for the burial costs, but tracked me down to give me the papers.”

She reached under the table producing a battered black leather backpack. Reaching inside, she pulled a Manila envelope out and passed it down the table to Taza. Then she laid a single piece of lined paper that had been folded over and over on top of it. “That’s all that’s left of her now.”

Taza looked in the envelope first. It looked like a bunch of legal paperwork. He passed it to his brothers to investigate while he looked at the letter.

It was dated 23 years before and addressed to ‘my precious daughter’. He skimmed it quickly. Apparently Gabriella never intended to tell anyone who the father of her child was. She didn’t want Megan associated with “his lifestyle”. She only put his name on the birth certificate for medical and legal purposes. She outlined who he was in the letter. That he rode with the VM and had connections with the tribal casino.

“You tracked me down to VM?” Taza asked alarmed. The idea of his child alone in their territory was terrifying.

Megan shook her head vehemently.  “Fuck no!” Hank snorted his laugh at her outburst. “Sorry.” She looked sheepish. “I figured I’d try the tribe first. I don’t have a passport or the money to make it all the way to Mexico.”

“So you flew here from Tennessee?” Bishop asked.

“Not exactly. I hitched most of the way.”

“Not the safest way to travel, sweetheart.” Bishop leaned back in his chair and tapped the envelope now laying on the table. “Birth record, paternity test results against your military record… hell even sonogram photos. Your girl wasn’t fucking around, Taza.”

Hank spoke up for the first time. “She wanted her kid to have her birth right. Makes sense.” He smiled at Megan. “But why now? Why not wait to make contact before coming out here? Or why not just accept it and move on?”

Megan’s knee started jitterbug up and down again and she started playing with her fingers. “Why not? Not like there’s much waiting for me in Tennessee. Figured a new start wasn’t the worst idea. Might even find family, ya know.”

All three bikers nodded slowly. Taza gave her a tight smile. “You’re right. This is a surprise, but not necessarily an unwelcome one. We’re going to step out for a minute. Discuss this. We’ll be back.”

Megan nodded and pulled at the threads on her sleeve cuffs. Hank and Bishop stood and walked to the door. Taza followed pausing to awkwardly pat her shoulder.

Out in the hallway, Bishop and Hank looked to Taza. “What do you wanna do, hermano?”

Taza pushed his hair back again. “You looked at the paperwork. Was it legit?”

Hank nodded. “Either legit or very expensive forgeries. From the look of her- I’d say legit. Besides, brother… she looks like you.”

Bishop cracked a grin. “Nah- she’s much prettier.”

Taza cracked a smile and shoved at El presidente’s shoulder roughly. Bish chuckled and gently shoved back. “You wanna bring her home? San Pad?

Taza breathed deep. “Shit. Yeah. At least for a few days while we figure shit out. She may not wanna stick around.”

Bishop nodded. “Go. Make the plans with her. We’ll go make sure that the Village Idiots order her some food too. Looks like she could use it.”

[bucky-at-bedtime]

Stucky Fic Recs

So basically I went through all of my ao3 bookmarks and collated a list of some of my favourites (I couldn't fit all of them on this list, so if anyone shows interest there might be a part two).

Please read tags and descriptions of the works before reading, some of them are pretty dark or extremely horny so just make sure you check that the fic is for you!!

Please please please send me your favourite fics in return! I am always happy to hear fic recs, headcanons and any other ideas/comments you all have!

Without any further ado, here are a few of my favourite Stucky fics:

‘Not Easily Conquered’ series by dropdeaddream, WhatAreFear

Rating: M, Words: 117,692

https://archiveofourown.org/series/115516

“I told you, you heard me: I told you never to follow me into Hell. Now I’m not vain enough to think that’s why you’re out here now — if there’s any person in what’s left of this God forsaken planet who’s part of a bigger picture, it’d be you. But I’ll keep saying it until it sticks. You got nothing to prove. I’m not worth much, I damn well know that, but I’ll ask you anyway: Stay for me. If you leave me alone in this world I’ll turn into something terrible. I’ll turn into the nasty creature that’s growing inside me. This war, it’ll swallow me whole”

[To me, this fic is like the classic Stucky 101 fanfic – if you're a Stucky fan and you haven't read this, I highly recommend it. The authors explore the Steve/Bucky relationship in such an interesting, tragic, emotive way and I cry every time I read it. I couldn't praise this work enough.]

‘Ain’t No Grave’ series by spitandvinegar

Rating: M-E, Words: 131,789

https://archiveofourown.org/series/426577

"Yeah, he never calls me by my name," Steve says. "It's always champ, ace, hotshot, that kinda thing."

"Man, that is flirting," Sam says. "That nicknames thing, he is flirting with you. He's just working his way up to calling you baby or something."

Steve goes redder than a damn coke can. Sam pumps his fist. "Yes, I am so right, I am wise as hell. He did, didn't he?"

"He called me sweetheart," Steve says grimly, "because he's a drug addict with brain damage."

"Or because he looooooves you," Sam says. Captain America throws a cookie at his head. Sam eats it, because he deserves a treat for being so damn wise.”

[I'm currently re-reading this fic and absolutely loving it. The way spitandvinegar writes Bucky's road towards recovery and Steve's entire characterisation – it's all just so good. It's another one that covers some pretty dark themes, so make sure you're checkin those tags!]

'Einherjar' by thecommodore_squid

Rating: M, Words: 71297

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7157024/chapters/16249814

But Steve was fine.

Sure, he hadn’t seen Bucky in months, and sometimes he was at the punching bag so long that his skin started to peel off to expose the bones of his fingers, and sometimes he couldn’t find the energy to drag himself out of bed, and sometimes he went weeks without sleeping, and sometimes he thought about throwing himself head-first off the nearest tall structure, but he was fine.

He was absolutely, perfectly, one-hundred percent, fucking fine.

AKA In which Steve learns how to deal with his shit, and Bucky learns how to stop leaving.

[basically the definition of a recovery fic, I absolutely adore it. This is tragic and amazing and makes me cry and smile. It’s got a bunch of fantastic cameos and It really just ticks so many of my boxes.]

‘Like real People do’ by 2bestfriends

Rating: E, Words: 67,775

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19887376/chapters/47103217

“"Ask me what?" demands Bucky. "I didn't hear a question."

Steve licks his lips. "Will you stay with me? Will you come back home, Buck?"

"Home," repeats Bucky in a small voice, and then he's crying for real.”

[Basically soft lumberjack!steve and lonely twink!bucky being horny and in love. This is a comfort fic for that’s really just about my favourite boys falling in love.]

‘This City Bleeds it’s Aching Heart’ by anonymous

Rating: E, Words: 34,537

https://archiveofourown.org/works/835829/chapters/1591736

“The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.”

[The plot in this one is just a good time and i think it’s just a really fun take on the fake relationship trope. Also some really great characterisation.]

‘Home is Wherever I’m With You’ by cydonic

Rating: E, Words: 88,570

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18868081/chapters/44783077

“Bucky kisses Steve and Emma goodbye before they leave for school, which is why – partway down the road – Amelia turns to him and asks, “why are you and Daddy kissing?”

Which is definitely a conversation Bucky’s been expecting since Steve just did it, but it still takes him by surprise. Again, he thinks he should wait for Steve, but Amelia’s not the sort of kid to let anything rest. Plus, Bucky’s taking her to school where she will undoubtedly share the story with anyone who’ll listen.

He also stops to think that Steve’s asked him to stay, which means Bucky must be trusted with their happiness and well-being, at least in some small capacity.

Bucky clears his throat and searches for some explanation that will help Amelia make sense of this sudden turn of events. “Because we love each other,” is all he comes up with.”

[Bear with me, this is a House Flipper!Bucky Au. And dad!Steve. I just love a found family trope I’m not gonna lie to you. Another comfort fic that warms my lil heart.]

‘Lucky Seven’ by BetteNoire (WeAreWolves)

Rating: E, Words: 94,364

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7033105/chapters/16002481

“Back from where--?” James says, the sentence ending in a distinctly undignified squawk as Steve sweeps him up in his arms, bridal-style, and starts carrying him upstairs.

James tenses momentarily then relaxes into Steve's arms and throws back his head and starts laughing. The laughter peals out of him, his body shaking, his amusement occasionally broken by little gasps of pain.

“What's so funny?” Steve frowns.

“You are,” James says, still giggling. “You're ridiculous, Steve Rogers.”

“Behave. Or I will drop you,” Steve growls.

[The shrunkyclunks modern AU of my dreams featuring Mechanic!Bucky and cap!Steve and some really beautiful writing.]

'Dishonor On Your Cow' by mandarou

Rating: E, Words: 111695

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10659162/chapters/23589582

“Sergeant Barnes?”

“Oh, hell no, don’t call him that, man,” Sam warned.

“Captain Fuck Off!” Barnes shouted over him. “Fight me!”

Steve didn’t know whether to laugh or just slink away. He managed to combine the two by pacing two steps and snorting instead. Like a bull.

“I’m gonna need you to calm your ass, Barnes,” Sam said as he went limp again, obstructing Barnes’s struggling under him. “This is so undignified. That is Captain goddamn America.”

“Captain goddamn America!” Barnes repeated, louder. And angrier.

Steve cleared his throat again. “I’ve been looking for you,” he told Barnes.

“I hope you brought lube this time!” Barnes shouted.

[I’m not gonna lie it took me a minute to get into this one but by the end I was crying with them, laughing with them, and just really in my feels. Some very insane things happen so here’s a few of my favourite tags: ‘Seargent Barnes is done with your Shit Steve’, ‘blatant disrespect of a man’s motorcycle’, ‘Steve you ding dong’ and ‘PR nightmares in the form of Supersoldiers’.]

Propietary Information by Notlucy

Rating: E, Words: 85141

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964402/chapters/27054777

“Okay, so Bucky Barnes has a crush on Steve Rogers. The guy's gorgeous, talented and, oh yeah, the Chief Design Officer of the biggest tech company in the world. In other words: he's so far out of Bucky's league that he might as well be in a different stratosphere.”

[We were never gonna get through this list without a Sugar Daddy!AU (I have a weakness). This one is… saucy and sexy and sweet and uh pretty kinky so read the tags and all. I’ve read it a few times, and I love the way the author has written Steve in this one, he just makes my heart go '!!!']

‘Roots Have Grown’ by AustinB

Rating: M, Words: 17280

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6912451/chapters/15767941

“Bucky is a mildly agoraphobic veteran with funds to spare, who becomes enamored with the cute blonde guy in his building.

So when Steve mentions needing a roommate to cut down on rent costs, Bucky decides it would be a good idea to volunteer.”

[Another weakness of mine is Roommate AUs, and this one is phenomenal. I tend to go for post serum!Steve stories more often, but this is a pre-serum Steve that I just adore.]

‘The Cold Never Bothered me Anyway’ by icoulddothisallday

Rating: E, Words:75562

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11728869/chapters/26425530

“Bucky Barnes has spent his whole life in a state of mild hypothermia. Steve Rogers has spent the last 70 years in the ice. The two things aren’t related until, suddenly, they are. Shrunkyclunks soulmate AU (AKA the awkward bb au).”

[I think this is the only soulmate AU in my bookmarks? I would totally be down to read more though! This one is really fun and really enjoy Bucky’s characterisation here!]

'War, Children' by Nonymos

Rating: E, Words: 106615

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5373050/chapters/12409394

“After Bucky was released from the hospital, it only took him a couple of weeks to give up on himself. Difficult to believe in any kind of future when the simple act of staying alive was almost too big an effort.

Out the frosted window, across the street, there was a tiny homeless guy burrowing under an awning.”

[An interesting exploration of Bucky’s PTSD with a trans!Steve which was a cool take on his character too!]

'The Company You Keep' by orbingarrow

Rating: G, Words: 51191

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3468605/chapters/7613072

“Hurt, hungry, and on the run, the Winter Soldier doesn’t have a lot of safe options to go to for help. Figuring that any friend of Captain Steve Rogers is unlikely to be HYDRA, Bucky takes a chance and reaches out to the first Avenger he can find.

It works out better than anyone could have expected. Eventually.”

[hurt/comfort, recovering Bucky, protective Steve, found family and domestic avengers, need I say more? I absolutely loved this one]

[hopeintheashes]

the static's where you'll find me

Set (and written) post-5x01, Panic. Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Buckley-Diaz family feels.

Buck goes home with Eddie after shift. No one is okay, no matter how much they're pretending to be.

read here // on AO3

He'd be falling asleep standing up if the water pouring down from the shower head had any heat to it. Unfortunately, any hot water that had been in the tank when the blackout hit is long since gone, so he's lathering up out of the reach of the spray and then taking a deep breath and diving beneath it, his curses mixing with everyone else's who's doing the same after 36 hours on shift.

It's efficient, anyway, and he's stumbling into his clothes and toward the door within 10 minutes of them being released. He knows they're going to get called back as soon as it's allowed, and he intends to spend as much of that time sleeping as humanly possible.

Eddie's ahead of him on the tarmac, and Buck half-jogs to catch up. "Hey. Eds." A little bit slurred. "Any chance I can crash at your place until we get called back? The traffic back to my apartment sucks when there's not a blackout, and the elevators are gonna be out, and…" He trails off into a yawn, but also because he hadn't expected to get through that many words without Eddie saying, Of course, come over, you don't even have to ask. It's a rush of sick adrenaline, self-doubt and concern fighting in his veins.

And then, finally: "I mean, I guess so." Like Eddie desperately wants to say no, but can't come up with a plausible reason.

Buck bites down on his tongue hard to keep the self-doubt from winning, and manages a tight smile. "Great."

.

Carla and Chris meet them at the door, clamoring for information. Their text messages have been getting through, but the cell service is stretched so thin that the calls they'd attempted kept getting dropped.

"We're okay," Eddie says, and Buck looks at him sideways, but they're here and unhurt so it's going to have to be true for now.

"I'm so glad to hear that," Carla says, and hugs them both, and then gestures for them to come further inside.

Chris is still clinging to Eddie, arms wrapped tight around his waist. Buck keeps his voice gentle when he says, "What do you think, bud, do I get a hug, too?"

Chris nods, but it takes a long beat for him to actually let go. Buck drops down to one knee so he's eye-to-eye with Chris and holds him tight. "You okay?" Buck asks quietly, and he just gets a shrug in return. "We'll talk later," Buck tells him, and presses a kiss to his temple and stands back up.

Carla's reassuring Eddie that she can and will cover their next round of overtime as well, but "I just haven't been able to get ahold of the rest of my family other than a quick text with Howard, and if you're going to be home for a few hours I would love to go check on them—" and Eddie cuts her off with "Of course, go, you don't even have to ask," and then she's out the door and the three of them are alone.

It feels— precarious. Nervous and off-balance, the support beams threatening to give way. It hurts to keep his eyes open, though, and he's yawning so wide it makes his jaw pop, and so it's all going to have to wait just a little while more.

.

He wakes up with a stiff neck and the imprint of the couch cushion on his cheek from pretty much faceplanting into sleep— he checks his phone— three hours ago. Jeez.

It's still light outside, which is a little disorienting, but the power is clearly still out. Chris has some complicated Lego project set up on the coffee table, which he's managed to push close to the window for better light without waking up Buck.

"Hey," Buck says, voice rough with sleep. "That looks good."

Chris nods, no trace of a smile, and adds another piece.

"Is your dad asleep?" He pushes himself up to sit in the corner of the couch and yawns. God, he could sleep for another fourteen hours.

"Yeah." Quiet. Eyes on his project. "I checked on him. Like ten times."

The alarm bells that have been going off since that cardiologist first recognized Eddie in the hospital are clanging again, deafening, and he has to force himself to take a breath, keep everything steady and calm.

"You want to come over here?" he asks, and Chris's lip trembles, and he nods, eyes full of tears, and then he's tucked against Buck's side on the couch.

"Okay, sweetheart, I've got you." A shaky breath. He's not sure how to start; not sure what Chris does or doesn't know. "Did something happen? Other than the blackout and the stuff on the news?"

It comes spilling out in a mess of tears and half-finished thoughts: "He, he was fine and then he just— fell" (on the street in broad daylight, blood pooling under his head),"and he was just lying there, and they had to call 911 and the ambulance came" (no help coming, no one but him; half-dead weight impossibly heavy and impossibly light; set your jaw and scream and hope to god you're not too late), "and then we went, we went to the hospital and it took a really long time and he just kept saying he was fine," (all that uncertainty like a slow-motion heart attack; don't leave me; what will I tell your son),"and," Chris's voice breaks all over again, "I had to tell them that he got shot!"

"What?" Shaking nearly as much as Chris, all of it too much, too much—

"He wasn't—" angry, now— "he wasn't even going to tell them. Like it didn't even happen." Swiping at the tears and snot running down his face. "But it did!"

"Yes." He feels like he's going to shatter. "It did." Blood and terror and the scrape of asphalt against his skin; the weight of his body— pulling him in, pushing him up; gasping words and motion-sick speed and Eddie's blood on his lips and his hands and his hair and his clothes; the endless heartsick wait and everything that came after. "It did."

Chris buries his face in Buck's chest and all the ways he's undoubtedly been trying to be strong give way at once in heaving sobs, and Buck holds him and fights the urge to collapse as well.

Eventually, Chris's breathing slows, and Buck gives him a squeeze and then gets up to find tissues and water and to generally try to put them both back together.

"I'll go talk to him," he says, smoothing Chris's hair back at the kitchen table.

"He's asleep," Chris tells him, but Buck shakes his head.

"This is important. Right?"

Chris nods, eyes puffy and breath still a little uneven. "Yeah."

"Okay." He squeezes his shoulder. "Hang tight."

.

Eddie's sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. Buck closes the door behind him and leans against it, arms crossed.

"You heard?" His voice is shaking, just a little bit.

Eddie nods into his palms. "Enough."

"Your kid is scared, Eddie." Gentle, coming close. "Hell, I'm scared." He sits down on the bed beside him. Quiet: "You're allowed to be scared, too."

Eddie's on his feet, hands balled tight. "I'm not."

"Allowed to?" Trying to figure it out.

"Scared! I'm not fucking scared, Buck, and I do not panic, and I don't know what the hell happened that day but it's not what you think it is so if you could just leave it the fuck alone, that would be great."

"Is that what you're going to tell Chris, too?" His voice is quiet and tight. "That he should just stop being scared? Stop replaying that moment in his head?" His voice is shaking hard, now. "That moment you fall like a fucking stone? Or the one where he's not sure if you're going to die right there in front of him? How exactly do you suggest he just gets past that, Eddie? Because if you've figured out a way, I would really fucking like to know."

Eddie's arms are pulled tight around himself, like he can hold himself together. Hold back the world. "I can't."

"Can't what,Eddie? Admit that what happened fucked us all up? I think that's a pretty normal reaction, if you ask me."

"I can't," he repeats, and it's strained, like his heart is pounding. Like he's not getting enough air. "I can't— do this right now." Pulling in air like it's mountain-top thin. Almost too quiet to hear: "I can't let it in."

Buck's on his feet, moving in close, and Eddie flinches but let him get his hands on his arms. His shoulders. Lets him pulls him in. "Okay," Buck says. "It doesn't have to be now. But let me tell you from experience, the longer you try to hold it back, the more the weight of it crushes you."

Fast, shallow breaths, and Eddie's moving his fingers like they're starting to go numb, and there's no choice but to let it go. To count breaths, slow and steady, until Eddie's lungs remember how to do it for themselves. To sit him down on the edge of the bed again with his head between his knees. To wait, and ride it out, and to know that just like this wasn't the first time, it also won't be the last. That this is something neither of them can fix through sheer force of will.

"I think Chris wants to see you," he says after a while, and Eddie takes one more deep breath and nods.

"Just give me a sec," he says.

Buck follows Chris in a few minutes later, and Eddie pulls his kid in for a bear hug and talks to him quietly for a minute, hands warm and steady on his arms, and Chris nods and gets up onto the bed, pressing in close. Buck stands in the doorway, torn for a moment, and then Chris reaches for him and Eddie nods and Buck lets out a shaky breath and climbs in on the other side of the bed as they all settle in. Tries not to think about how many more hours until they're back in the chaos. About what will happen once they are.

Chris's eyes are closing, and Buck brushes back his hair. Meets Eddie's eyes over his head.

"Just give me some time," Eddie says, quiet, and Buck takes a breath and nods.

"I'll be here."

[giaourtopita]

oh no i was summoned by a religiously traumatised 17 year old and now i gotta babysit them

again, kinda ooc. these are really fun to write, by the way if you have any suggestions for the next parts feel free to send me an ask or message me!! i don't know why i didn't mention this in the first chapter but this fic, especially this chapter, is very self indulgent!! i hope you'll like it<333

warnings; underage gn mc, religious trauma (about christianity)

< previous part

*after a few weeks from the first summoning of lucifer, mc really thought that he was just severely misunderstood. history and christians did him dirty, mc remembers themselves telling him. lucifer always felt his pride and ego boosted whenever they had a talk. mc really did look up to him, sure he didn't tell them everything about him or his family but they were okay with it. he tries to help them with homework from time to time, even if he's busy.*

*mc started thinking that if lucifer, a demon whose reputation in the human realm is beyond repair, is that nice to them then maybe someone would also be nice. lucifer told him they lucked out with him but if they tried to summon another demon things could possibly not turn out the way they wished to. it was almost as if lucifer not only wanted to keep them safe but he also wanted to keep them a secret especially from his brothers.*

*he loves his brothers a lot but he really didn't want them to spoil his fun. normally humans were extremely biased against him, so seeing a human especially one so young being so understanding and really trying to see things from his point of view really made him think that maybe not all humans are as pathetic as they seemed.*

*mc made a copy of the grimoire so that they could return the book back to the library. they thought if their parents were to find the original it would be much worse than just finding a notebook full of summoning spells and information about demons written using pretty glitter gel pens and having cute stickers stuck on the pages*

*they sat in their room while reading their own copy of the grimoire. satan, they read. almost immediately prepared themselves so they can do the summon.*

*they tried summoning him three times until they stopped. they thought maybe there was an error with the copy of the grimoire so they went back to the library to check just to be sure.*

*meanwhile in the devildom, satan was at the royal library. he was looking for any new books he could read. that is until he felt it, the feeling of getting summoned returned. he tried grabbing one of the new arrivals at the library but it was too late.*

*satan suddenly found himself grabbing the same book as mc. both exchanged a weird look before saying anything.*

mc: i thought the summon didn't work...

*satan didn't like getting summoned, let alone being summoned by a stranger. he didn't bother with pacts for this exact reason, he thought summons were a waste of time when he could just read instead, heck! even re-reading something is better than getting summoned, he thought.*

*satan noticing the book he and mc were holding, he got curious. average humans don't have such powerful magic. he was interested to know how this was possible.*

satan: i tried to delay the summon so i could finish my book in peace. now, how were you able to summon me?

mc: give me the book you're holding please.

*satan gives the book to mc and they turn to the page that's dedicated to him.*

satan: oh, but that requires a lot of power. are your family members sorcerers?

mc: oh no they're far from that, they would probably freak out if they ever find out that i have casted spells. maybe even send me to a christian boarding school and perform exorcism on me.

satan: how come you're not like them?

mc: i just felt forced into believing in it. the more i interacted with christians the more sure i was that i wasn't like that. sure there are good ones but most people i have interacted with say nasty things about people that haven't done anything to them and make up excuses about how their religion agrees with what they say.

satan: i see but why did you summon me?

mc: well, the other demon i summoned seemed pretty nice so i thought that since he was nice you would be nice too. i'm sorry for summoning you, you don't have to hang out with me if you don't want to.

*mc was nervous about his answer and kind of scared, but tried hard not showing it.*

satan: it's too late now, but if you're interested i could give you some recommendations on who to summon next.

*mc nodded and satan started looking for something in the grimoire while grinning. when he finally found the page he was looking for he turned the book to them and showed a demon*

satan: that's lucifer and make sure to summon him late at ni-

mc: that's the one i've summoned actually, he even gave me a spell so we can set a time for when i can summon him.

satan: oh.

*satan seemed disappointed, mc noticed that but they wouldn't comment on it.*

satan: lucifer is my, uh brother. he's the oldest actually, out of seven.

mc: really? when i was younger i used to think that he was you.

satan: you used to think that he was me?

*satan started laughing, he laughed very loudly. mc was starting to get concerned.*

mc: what happened? why are you laughing? people here do confuse you for each other.

satan: lucifer and i have a pretty rocky relationship, i don't really feel like talking about it. anyways i'll show you the rest of my brothers.

satan: here's the second-born, mammon. he is the avatar of greed so you can't let him near anything of value. unless you want him to steal it, it's kind of annoying.

mc: so if i summon him, what would happen?

satan: he would probably think you're one of the witches he's indebted to.

*mc continued to listening to satan talking about his brothers until it was pretty late and mc had to head back to their house. but there was one last brother mc just had to ask about*

mc: what about this one?

satan: this is belphegor, you should never summon him. he's holding a grudge against humans and he will not hesitate hurting you. you were lucky you summoned me and not him.

*satan said with a concerned and worried look on his face*

mc: okay i won't summon him, i promise. and thank you for hanging out with me.

*noticing how late it was, satan offered to walk them home. after arriving at their house he asked them to inform him first about summoning him and only do it if it's absolutely needed.*

*mc wished him goodnight and entered their house ready to be scolded for taking too long at the library.*

next part >

[prismadog]

Found Family AU character facts (part 5)

Sorry I haven't done one of these in a couple days - I was tired yesterday then I went and wrote a one-shot and didn't really feel like writing anything more. So sorry about that, but I'm back and this time with some facts [these are more background information than facts, aren't they?] about Gem and fWhip!

I think, since I keep accidentally turning these facts posts into stories [none of which you'd've seen yet cause I alter the posts before sending them off], I might just write some one-shots or short stories. like with the last one that featured Katherine and Pearl - there's a whole conversation between Pearl and the God of Life that I didn't add.

do you guys want that? the one-shots? I know I haven't really done anything with the actual AU since I kinda got side-tracked here with the facts posts, but I do plan on make more Xornoth & Shrub related content, it's just the facts have somehow taken priority.

speaking of which, more below! [lemme know if you guys want stories] also, fWhip's got a bit long but I'm too tired to edit it and condense it down so, y'all've gotta live with more content on fWhip's section. sorry

Gem

Gem is the twin sister to fWhip. they were both born into a simple house in a simple village between mountains - it was called the Crystal Valley, so named because of the uses of crystals in everyone's homes and in the village itself. the two are children of a bard and neither has a clue who the father is - that's a secret their mother would never tell them no matter how many times they asked.

she was able to use magic since pretty much her birth, unlike fWhip who didn't display any talents for the art. the resident Wizard at the time was curious about this and wanted to study the twins - nothing sinister, only check in on them and ask questions. their mother allowed it because she was still young and needed guidance.

the Wizard, at the time, is the only one who knows about their father. he watches over the twins and when they're old enough, teaches them magic. Gem takes to the magic like a bird takes wing and flies, but fWhip struggled and quickly gave up.

when she and fWhip are young, maybe about 8 years old, they meet the Prince of Mythland - a dwarf boy named J Sausage. the three of them get on like a house on fire. Gem spends her free time with the two, usually keeping them out of trouble, and sometimes tried to teach Sausage how to use magic - he was never able to do any magic but he didn't seem to mind.

they stayed close over the years, often visiting each others' kingdoms and causing a little havoc, and felt like they were family. even each others' parents thought of them as family. then, Sausage's father was slain in battle and Sausage was crowned King - Gem and fWhip were at his side for everything. fWhip, tinkering genius, set up a firework show for Sausage and she gave him some gifts - an old spell book she found written by a Mythlandian, and some rings with protection magic.

the three of them drift a bit with new responsibilities - Sausage has his kingdom and Gem's lessons are becoming more difficult. she feels guilty that she can't spend as much time with either of her boys, especially when she finds out that fWhip's been exploring the mountains by himself - something no one does because the mountains are a cruel place that takes the lives of those who wander its rocky terrain

she tries to talk fWhip out of his explorations and for a time, she succeeds. she visits with him between studies, which seems to be longer and longer between visits, and he seems all right. but one time, she goes to visit, after what she thought was only a few weeks but was really two months, and he's nowhere to be found. she asks their mother but she doesn't know where he is either. come to find, no one's seen him in that time.

Gem sends word to Sausage while she searches for her brother, and within a day, Sausage is there searching right along with her. they spend countless hours, days, searching but they come up with nothing but a few belongings deep within the mountains. she has to hold a funeral, her mother is distraught, and Sausage stands vigil for fWhip. Sausage visits her from time to time as she throws herself fully into her lessons, in order to keep from thinking about how she let her brother down, but eventually, he gets busy as well.

she becomes Wizard of the Crystal Cliffs, the title given to her from the Wizard she grew up with, and he retires. she decides her first act as Wizard is to take on the mountains, claim them for her own in honor of the twin she lost. the villagers and mages alike question her actions but she ignores them. she builds first a house with farms, then another building, and eventually a tower on top of the mountain. the Crystal Valley becomes known as the Crystal Cliffs.

in this time, she meets some rulers from other kingdoms, some through Sausage and others through her title since the Crystal Cliffs are under her rule. sometime during all this, she got word about a kingdom in the Grimlands - a barren wasteland that none dare travel - and there was going to be a Gathering to welcome its ruler, the Count of the Grimlands.

she went to the Gathering, taking place in the Flower Fields, and found her twin there. fWhip was alive and well, and was the Count of a new kingdom - she couldn't be happier to see her brother. the trio was reunited and they celebrated vigorously and Gem promised to never let her studies get in the way again.

visits between the three kingdoms became commonplace again. Gem spent as much time with her boys as possible, even when they were picking on the Codfather of the swamps.

she did notice sometime later that fWhip wasn't the same as she remembered - he was always a little chaotic and loved to tinker with things, but now it was worse, and something was just...off about him. he talked often about Deepslate Redstone and was almost obsessed with tnt. she vowed to herself to keep a closer eye on him.

fWhip

fWhip is the twin brother to Gem. they were both born into a simple house in a simple village between mountains - it was called the Crystal Valley, so named because of the uses of crystals in everyone's homes and in the village itself. the two are children of a bard and neither has a clue who the father is - that's a secret their mother would never tell them no matter how many times they asked.

fWhip, unlike his sister, was not able to use magic from an early age, or ever in fact, but he never held it against her - it was just what made Gem special. the resident Wizard still tried to teach him, for a short time, but fWhip struggled with the lessons and gave up - though, he did enjoy the lessons on other topics such as the Mobestiary and different tools the mages used. it was technical side of things that he was interested in and so he learned how to tinker and fix tools and to create new things to be used - most ended in failure but some came out good.

when he and Gem are young, maybe about 8 years old, they meet the Prince of Mythland - a dwarf boy named J Sausage. the three of them get on like a house on fire. he spends more time with Sausage than Gem does, due to her studies, but she still hangs out with them during her free time. he and Sausage bond over not being able to use magic, though, Sausage still tries whereas fWhip doesn't - he doesn't mind though.

they stayed close over the years, often visiting each others' kingdoms and causing a little havoc, and felt like they were family. even each others' parents thought of them as family. then, Sausage's father was slain in battle and Sausage was crowned King - he and Gem were at his side for everything. fWhip, tinkering genius, set up a firework show for Sausage and she gave him some magical gifts for his coronation.

with Gem's new studies and Sausage's new duties, fWhip finds himself on his own more often than not so he tries to keep himself occupied - but tinkering and fixing things can only go so far. he explores the surrounding area around the village, just the forests to start with, but is soon drawn to the mountains - he's always been told not to travel into them or else you'll be consumed by the mountain. he resisted for a time but eventually his curiosity got to him and he started exploring the mountains too - not too much, only the surface caves.

Gem caught him one time coming back from an exploration and lectured him on the dangers of the mountain, more so than their mother's been doing - she just packs him some food and tells him to be careful, she understands the need to roam since she used to be traveling bard. Gem thinks the conversation done and nothing more is said, then she goes back to her studies and he back to exploring.

visits with his twin are few and far between, as is visits with Sausage, and the mountains keep luring him deeper into them - not that he minds the last bit. he finds all kinds of resources within the caves - gold and iron, lapis and diamond, coal and redstone. it's the raw redstone that draws him in, he's only ever seen it in its refined state.

with the first finding of the block, he returns to the village to get his tools re-enchanted so that he can mine the raw blocks. the mage does a wonderful job, putting several enchantments on his weapons, and he pays them in lapis and crystals - both being important to the mages. with his new tools, and a pack of supplies for himself, he returns to the caves and his sort-of new home there - an off-set of the main tunnels that he uses for shelter and even has a wheat farm going.

deeper and deeper he travels, following the redstone - it makes his veins sing and he wants more of it. the redstone leads him through the mountains and eventually to the surface again where he finds the Grimlands - a barren wasteland that nobody travels to. he also finds that the wasteland has redstone blocks in the terrain, right on the surface, and it's the Deepslate kind too.

he travels the land, fascinated by the darkness of it all, and feels like he was meant to be here. he finds a village every now and again - small, dark, and the people are hardier, almost rock-like with redstone cracks along their skin. they're just as curious about him as he is of them, and he often talks to the villagers before moving on again - he's trying to find a place to settle down.

and he finds that place on a nice plateau area that the villagers had referred to as the center of their lands. he starts building there, just a few houses, then a warehouse and a few shops, then walls. somehow word gets around and the people of the Grimlands join him, he welcomes the company, and soon a proper city has risen. he puts walls around it, for protection, and the people start to call him "Count fWhip" and looking to him for aid. at first, he doesn't think he's fit for the job, but they make him see reason and he gladly accepts the title. they help him build lodgings fit for a ruler - first a huge forge and a mansion on another plateau.

word seems to spread outside of the Grimlands and he's contacted by a ruler of another kingdom - Queen Katherine of House Blossom of the Flower Fields - and she offers him a seat at the Gathering of Empires. he's reluctant at first to accept but his trusted advisors convince him it's for the best - the other kingdoms have materials and goods that are hard to come by. he accepts and travels to the Flower Fields, getting lost only a couple times.

he meets the other rulers and also, he runs into his twin and his best friend again - he doesn't know when he saw them last - and they celebrate their reunion together. he visits with them more often, all of them traveling between their three kingdoms, and couldn't be happier. he and Sausage start teasing another new ruler - Jimmy the Codfather - and sometimes Gem joins in, but it's all in good fun. except one time where things went too far and he found out that the Ocean Queen isn't someone you want to mess with. but after that, all good fun.