#if it bothers you that much then filter the ship name and stop interacting with the content

[sad-endings-suck]

“ew no, 😫 i hate that ship!”

okay?? so go cry about it. tf you want from me?

#if it bothers you that much then filter the ship name and stop interacting with the content #i ain’t got shit to do with you fyp algorithm. you did that #fix your ‘you problems’ on the tag for ‘you problems’ instead of on the tag of the ship you ‘’hate’’ #idk what you want from me i just go here #fandom ships #blue eye samurai #avatar the last airbender #the rings of power #fandom shenanigans #fandom shitpost #zutara #taang #taizu #taimizu #sydcarmy #brio #kastle #matt x elektra #v x takemura #ruby x otis #fandom #fandom shipping #fandom stuff #cyberpunk 2077 #the bear fx #sex ed netflix #good girls nbc #the punisher #daredevil netflix

[skaylanphear]

Hi there! Do you have any advice on improving traction towards a fanwork/fic? I love writing—and it's not for notoriety by any means—but having validation and feedback also feels nice (I hope that's not conceited). What would you recommend to someone without a large audience/follower base? I do "advertise" on tumblr when my work is written/updated on AO3. How did your journey start? Thank you!

This is an interesting question and I doubt most people are going to like the answers, but here we go:

So, first and foremost, you need to be realistic about why you're creating in the first place. If you're doing work in a fandom that is older, where content has stopped coming out, or that is simply smaller, you're not going to get much engagement, period. There will, of course, be activity in these fandoms, but it will be far less and the people involved—while they may view your work—will be less likely to comment/spread it around simply because there's not much going on. So if you're creating in that sort of environment (which can be a really good environment if you're looking for something chill with no pressure), then you have to be prepared for low engagement, even if the people you do meet and who are willing to talk about your work are more regularly in your sphere. You can probably make better/closer friends in these sorts of fandoms, if you're willing to try.

But, on the other end of this, if you're coming into a huge fandom late, it's also going to be harder to wade through the massive following to get your stuff out there. For example, in both the Miraculous and Sk8 fandom, I started work pretty early on, when the shows were still gaining traction, and so my "name" as a creator gained traction parallel to that growth, as opposed to when I started writing in the Voltron fandom. With Voltron, I came in super late and so what few fics I had that did gain traction took a lot longer to get there because people already had their fav content creators in the fandom, etc. It's not impossible to get popular in this situation—far from it—but it does take longer.

You'll also benefit from having finished works early on in a fandom's lifespan, at least with writing. This is because there's less competition for views and so more people will be filtered to your work, initially. This means that you have a better chance of getting those comments and kudos. Having a finished work increases this engagement because people look for finished works before works in progress. Generally, the length of a fic doesn't matter much for popularity, so long as it's DONE. When I was writing in the ML fandom, quite a few of my earlier fics were shorter, and they compete in popularity with my longer fics, because people care more about having a finished story, not a long story. That's why when it came to Only Practice Makes Perfect in the Sk8 fandom, I worked hard to get that shit done, because it was the most popular story I had in the fandom and I decided—like an idiot—to make it a long fic. Which, yeah, means people probably love it/remember it more in the long run, but if I hadn't finished it in 2 to 3 months, I'd have lost considerable traction as far as making a name within the fandom.

This leads into one of the most important points, if not THE MOST IMPORTANT point in gaining an audience—consistency. If you do want to be a successful creator, you Have To Be Consistent. This is the most difficult hurdle for all creators, and it is oftentimes impossible to make happen. If you want to aim for professionalism, which a lot of fandom creators don't care about (which is fine), then consistency is how you get there. Nobody wants to read a fic or follow an artist who doesn't stick to creating what they start (RIP all my unfinished works and the people who left me as a result, LOL). Using my most recent works as an example, I very, very, very consistently updated Only Practice Makes Perfect multiple times a week. To the point where people got comfortable expecting it, which is the key variable here. When people become comfortable that you will regularly create content, they not only stick around, but will be more interactive with you and your work. Nobody likes the disappointment of getting involved with a work only for that work to rarely get updates. Most people don't have the attention span to care. I'll admit, if I read a fic that's not finished and the writer takes one week to update, then one week, then THREE weeks, I probably will, like, forget about it. That's just life.

The best thing you can do is schedule. And again, this is the HARDEST thing to do, because it holds the creator to a deadline. Most people who create in fandoms don't want that kind of pressure—and that's fine. I go back and forth on when I have scheduled releases and when I don't, depending on what I'm aiming to do. But if you to retain your audience, telling them that you will update a work regularly on such and such a day and such and such a time, it creates something for them to remember. If they're invested in your work, they will think, "oh, it's Friday, that means such and such is coming out with something new." But, with that in mind, you also have to commit to a schedule that people will remain invested in. Which basically means you can't put things out more than a week away from each other, unless you're really, really famous, lol. If I told people I was going to go on a two week update schedule, I would lose most of my audience. But a week is long enough for people to both still remember and anticipate. That's just how the scheduling of the world works. And if you're an artist that's working on a big project, then you have to share progress, or pieces of what you're doing on a regular basis. That's what generates "buzz" and keeps you relevant. And, yeah, that's a really hard schedule to commit to, because it's a lot of work. BUT this consistency is where you see people being successful. Popular youtubers may not have gained their popularity by being consistent, but most sure do retain it that way. And again, there are outlying exceptions, but they generally ARE exceptions.

Speaking of hard work, here's probably the second hardest thing to accomplish—you have to be prolific. Especially as a writer. You have to write A LOT if you want to gain an audience. And yeah, that means you have to work, a lot. I love my work, so I enjoy that "grind," and I also have developed a lot of strategies to work around writer's block and every other obstacle that tends to catch people up. I work in a very professional manner—I do outlines, and drafts, and plan. I do a lot of stuff that people who do this kind of thing for fun can't be bothered with (and that's fine), but that's because I find it to be what works best in creating an efficient environment. I'm also very, very NOT lazy, lol. I was raised in an environment where you have to work for everything that you want. My parents didn't buy me my first computer, or snowboard, or what have you. We were tight on money and if I wanted something, they couldn't help me—I had to get that shit on my own. And I also grew up on a farm, where hard work was a staple of how you did things. You did things the right way, even if it was the hard way. You can't cut corners and it's the same with this. If you want it, you have to actually do the work, that's it. Some people get lucky with popularity, most don't. Most famous actors didn't become well-known off their first efforts, they had to keep trying and keep working and then they have to continue to do that to stay relevant. So if that doesn't sound great to you, then you might want to not focus on your audience and just create because you enjoy it, lol. Sometimes that's what I do too, when I don't wanna deal with the pressure.

Moving on, here's another point that nobody is going to like. Simply put, you also have to be good at what you do. I think some people don't realize that I've been writing fic for over fifteen years. I currently have nearly 2 millions words worth of fics on AO3 and that doesn't include a majority of the stuff I've ever written. I practice A LOT. I write every day. And I'll tell ya, when I started out in middle school, my stuff was not good. But I worked hard, I ignored the hate, and I kept going. That is the only way you will ever get better at anything. There's no quick way to become a better writer, or artist. And a vast majority of people are only going to pay attention to your stuff if it's quality work. Getting to that point is a process, on top of then creating stuff that fits into popular molds. Not only am I good at what I do (and I don't care how arrogant that sounds—I've worked my ass off), but when it comes to fandoms, I rarely write "rare pairs" and "crack ships." Generally, if it's popular, that's where I am. That makes a big difference and I honestly don't have sympathy for people who write rare pairs and such and then complain about lack of engagement. You knew what you were getting into (it's mostly the Miraculous fandom that gave me this bitterness). If you're not writing what people WANT to read, then your audience is simply going to be smaller. And that audience doesn't owe you their attention, no matter how frustrating it is or how good your work is. I could be the best writer in the world, but if I'm writing RekixCherry fic, I have nobody to blame but myself when nobody reads it. BUT if that's your passion, and writing a certain unpopular thing makes you happy, then, again, you need to not be concerned with traction and your audience.

The last point I'll make is that it matters HOW you present yourself online. A good chunk of the well-known creators in any fandom are, simply put, older people. And those that aren't, and are able to connect with those older creators, have generally created a bubble around themselves of maturity and, like, of being nice, lol. A lot of creators are skittish these days, and if you're an asshole (anti) or fight a lot over stupid shit, you may get a bigger audience, but you will isolate yourself from other creators. And this is important because oftentimes it is your exposure to other creators that will get your work circulating. The reason I got popular in the ML fandom? I wrote a short angst fic and a really popular artist shared it/talked about it and the rest was history. But if I'd had a habit of being an asshole, probably wouldn't have happened. And, granted, I'm not saying don't voice your opinions, but if you're loud all the time, it does turn people off. Especially creators because they are oftentimes the ones being attacked. They don't want to pull more of that negative bullshit into their lives. I'll admit, when I was in the ML fandom, I was down for a fight, but then that's what people came to expect, and it probably did turn others off, and then when I didn't fight, or didn't think the way my audience thought I should, it, again, turned people off. It's really not worth it unless being that type of person IS your platform.

So, that's all the advice I can give, I suppose. And even if you do all this stuff, that still doesn't mean you're going to be popular. At the end of the day, the thing that I stick to is this—I do what I want, I love what I do, and I work hard. If I'm in a position to worry about all that other stuff, then sure, I do, but otherwise… There's no easy way to become popular and, quite frankly, it's better to just "live" working hard and being a decent person than it is to focus on all this bullshit. I've created a working environment where I function within these "points" quite naturally, so it's not something I think about (except for schedules, lol). Sometimes I get popular in fandoms, sometimes I don't. At the end of the day, it comes down to how much work you're willing to do, because you will always be giving more than you are getting back, so you have to at least enjoy what you're doing.

Seriously, just do it because you love it. And if the pressure of everything above is something you don't love (I like a good, high pressure situation, lol), then don't do it that way—it's not worth the grief.

#skaylanphear replies #anonymous

[thewildwaffle]

The Prisoner - Part 4

I was on a roll after part 3 and had this cute little scene pop up into my head. Plus, Garn really needed a moment to rest and take a breath, he’s been through a lot these past few days!

Part 1       Part 2        Part 3

The ship was relatively quiet. Or at least as quiet as a ship can be while bumbling around in space. Perhaps the more appropriate description was that the ship was peaceful. Garn decided that he liked peaceful. He wasn’t sure he understood what it was that he was feeling at first, he’d had so few peaceful moments growing up and working under the Syndicate, but once he figured it out, he decided that it was quite agreeable with him. It seemed to be for Porter as well. His smaller human friend had been recovering quickly after their run-in with Maika the assassin back at the Tupiti Space Port. He could now walk on the leg, albeit with a noticeable limp. Thankfully, it hadn’t seemed to affect his bright and energetic personality, much to Garn’s relief.

Right now though, Porter was asleep. As was Embry, the ship’s medic of sorts. During his time on the ship, he’d been able to piece together a bit more information about his new companions. Embry, he’d learned, had never actually received a medical license. She had training but had never finished. When he inquired more as to why, Embry changed the topic and became much more curt with any further additions to the conversation. Porter was a lot more forthcoming with his backstory. The gist of it was that he’d taken part in some big trading agreement with a private Earth organization and a splinter group from the Bartu Sovereignty that went bad. There’d been some illegal business “under the table” as Porter put it, and he’d been set up as the “fall guy”. The fact that he was a weapons expert and many of the illegal going-ons had to do with the criminal trade of experimental weapons only helped solidify his “guilt” to the authorities that cared. Porter had spent a good part of an entire rotation explaining in great detail how he’d talked, bribed, and fought his way out of the hands of bounty hunters, angry crime lords, sneaking under the radar of law enforcement, and in general living life on the run before he stowed away on The Shasta, this ship, where he met Kaya and Tig.

Then there were those two. The elder human and the kloxan’s story were still a mystery to him. All he’d really gotten to know so far was that they’d been part of a Galactic Confederation crew together. Garn didn’t know much about the Galactic Confederation, other they were considered a continual, pestering antagonist of the Trinn-Har’rups. He’d guarded prisoners of the GC captured by the Syndicate before they faced an unknown, though likely grisly, punishment for the crime of standing in the Syndicate’s way.

Garn felt that among the ranks of guards and soldiers, the Galactic Confederation and those that aligned with them were thought of to be pretentious, power-hungry manipulators. He’d always been around that sentiment, so he never questioned it before. He’d had no need to. Now he was on a ship that had two of them as acting captain and first-mate. Granted they were former Galactic Confederation, so maybe that old profile didn’t fit them. After all, he was now a former guard of the Trinn-Har’rup Syndicate, the stigmas tied up with him probably no longer fit so well either.

And anyway, Porter stayed with them, so they couldn’t be so bad.

Garn rose from the small pile of blankets, pillows, and towels that was currently acting as his bed. Porter had Embry help him scour the ship for as many soft fabrics and items that could be spared to make a spot for Garn to sleep until they could install an actual bed for him. It was nice, but he’d never slept on anything so soft before. Comfortable as it was, between the unaccustomed softness and the overall unfamiliarity that surrounded him, he’d had a hard time finding sleep. As carefully and quietly as he could, he made his way out of the sleeping quarters and down the short hall toward the main hangar room he’d been in when he’d first entered the ship.

The ship was old, but he had to admit that it had been well kept and he’d almost say lovingly maintained. He gave a small half-smile as his eyes ran over the designs in and around the ship. They were outdated. He might even call them antiquated. He liked it though. It felt right and… well he wasn’t sure how else to describe it. Inviting? Warm? Graceful? It was… he felt… like he could belong here. And that made him all the happier.

As he shuffled into the main room, he stood for a moment before he sat down on a bench along the wall to continue processing his thoughts. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there like that, listening to the hum of the ship’s engines and systems when he heard a small quiet grunt to his left. Snapping his eyes open, he searched in the darkness for the source.

His eyes caught a glint of movement from a chair. He felt his fur rise as he instinctively anticipated having to defend himself from an attack. None came though. His brain finally took in what his eyes were trying to see. There was no secret attacker, just human Kaya sitting in a very regal-looking chair. His fur dropped back down and he sighed a breath of relief.

“Sorry I startled you,” Kaya chuckled quietly. Garn could see her shoulders bounce slightly as she shifted in her chair. His eyes ran down her arm. Or where her arm had been. He’d been right earlier that day they’d first met. She hadd stopped what she must have thought was him going to attack Embry. The prosthetic he’d seen her wearing that day and every day since was now no longer attached. Her arm ended just above where her elbow should have been.

After a few tries, he was able to successfully look away. It was hard though. He’d heard humans were capable of surviving attacks or accidents even after losing a limb, but it had seemed like such a far-fetched tale that he wasn’t sure if he’d believed it. The shock alone of having lost a body part was enough to kill many species, but humans, as he now knew, were hardy and stubborn when it came to staying alive and continuing on.

“I… I didn’t realize you were here. I’m sorry I disturbed you,” he murmured as he stood up, feeling like he had intruded on something he shouldn’t have.

“You’re fine, Garn. Sit back down.” It wasn’t a command, it came out softer, like an invitation. He paused and considered that. An invitation. He slowly nodded and sat back down.

“Having a hard time sleeping too, huh?” the human sighed as she leaned further back in her chair.

Garn nodded sharply, then unsure how well humans could see in the dark followed up with a curt, “Yes ma’am.”

Kaya laughed again. “I told you before, you don’t need to call me ma’am.”

“Sorry ma-... uh, sorry. I will try to remember better.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure it’s what you’re used to. I, for one, know old habits die hard.” Her tone was soft and quiet. So unlike the interactions and reprimandings he was accustomed to in his life up to this point.

He settled down a little more, muscles finally starting to drop their worried tension as the two of them sat in the darkness. He eventually relaxed enough that he felt comfortable to break the silence.

“Are you… are you having a hard time sleeping ma- uh, human Kaya?”

She didn’t laugh this time, but Garn could hear the quiet smile in her voice, “We’ll get you through all your formalities yet.” She sighed and stroked her hand over where her left arm ended. “I am. Just some old phantom pains acting up again.”

“Phantom pains?” That sounded serious. Should he go wake Embry?

The worry in his voice must have been picked up because Kaya gently waved him back down as she reached to the counter and picked up a dark mug and sat back in her chair. “My arm may be gone, but sometimes my brain forgets. Sometimes it feels like my arm itches, sometimes it hurts, or at least my brain thinks it does. It doesn’t happen as much as it used to, but still more than I’d like. Especially when I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

She sipped slowly from the mug in her hand. Whatever was in it smelled sweet and calming. Kaya noticed him watching as she lowered the cup and rested it on her lap.

“Mint tea,” she explained. “It helps. Or at least, enjoying a warm cup of it helps me take my mind off the pain.”

Garn nodded silently, not sure what to say. He wasn’t sure what the etiquette was for this situation. He couldn’t take his eyes off her arm and where it ended, but he also knew that for many species, staring for too long at a person could be considered a challenge to a duel, or at least considered rude. Kaya didn’t seem to notice though, more focused on the mug in her hand.

“I brewed it myself,” She continued. “We’ve got a room here on the ship that we’ve filled with plants. It helps keep the air fresh, takes a bit of the strain off the o2 systems. That and sitting in the room or taking care of all the plants helps keep star sickness at bay.”

“Star sickness?” Garn cut in, unfamiliar with the term.

“Void sickness, star sickness, planet separation anxiety, there’s a lot of names for it. It’s not so much a physical sickness, but a mental one. I don’t know how many space-faring races have to deal with it, but it affects humans pretty frequently. It can get pretty nasty too, if it’s not dealt with. I make sure Porter, Embry, and I each spend a chunk of time in the plant room pretty regularly. It’s grounding. And relaxing. Smells nice too. A lot of the plants are, of course, good at filtering the air of impurities, but quite a few of them smell nice. Like the mint, for instance.” She took another sip from the mug and chuckled. “Even Tig likes going in there sometimes. You would think he’d find the humidity levels a pain on the circuits, but he says it doesn’t bother him. I think he finds the plants interesting. Sometimes I notice him laser etching bamboo stalks on packaging scraps when he’s bored.”

Garn hummed and nodded. He’d seen the kloxan do that too. Thinking of him and the human next to him now, he again started wondering at how different they were than what he’d always expected of someone from the Galactic Confederation. Just even in the past few solar rotations, the hard, no-nonsense shell he’d immediately attributed to her when they first met was actually more just her being firm and strong when needed, but thoughtful and gentle at her base. He’d learned so much in such a short amount of time. The galaxy was such a bigger place than he’d ever thought, so much more detailed and nuanced. It had all been so cut and dry and simple when all he knew was what the Syndicate told him. He exhaled deeply as he leaned his head back to rest against the wall.

“That’s quite the sigh,” Kaya noted. “Got a lot on your mind?”

Garn grunted an affirmative. Kaya sat silently as if waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, she leaned her head back to rest against her chair and they both sat silently for a while.

Garn’s mind was racing, and at the same time, it felt like it was stuck in a sticky zawki pit. His thoughts were starting to run into each other and stretch or slow down until nothing was making sense anymore. Maybe he should return to the sleep quarters and try again to get some rest. He looked over to the human who also looked like she was having trouble with her thoughts.

“If I may ask,” he asked quietly so as to not startle her, “what made you want to leave the Galactic Confederation?”

Kaya tilted her head down to consider him a moment. Even in the darkness, he could see the lines around her eyes pull.

“I left,” she began and thought about it a moment, “I left to find my partner.”

Garn wasn’t sure what that meant, so he waited unmoving until she finally continued. Her voice was slow and deliberate, like she was carefully picking through every word.

“We… we were on a scouting mission and there was… an accident. We were separated. I was, well, I was recovered, but he wasn’t.” She paused again and looked down into her mug. Or maybe at her arm, Garn wasn’t sure. “I tried to convince them to go after him. They said he was gone. I appealed. I appealed again and again to higher and higher powers, but I kept getting nos. They told me he was gone and that trying to… recover him would… that it wasn’t worth the risk. He was a good man.” She frowned and looked up sharply. “He is a good man. I think he’s still out there. He survived. I can feel it. And I decided I was going to get him, by myself if I had to. Tig was on our crew as well. He’s been... a dear friend. Both to Ahmad and I before, and now. He believed me. He came along to help me find Ahmad.”

She looked back up at Garn. “Since we left the GC, we’ve found evidence that we were right, that he made it out alive. We just need to find him. And along the way, we’ve picked up a few other lost souls.”

Garn matched her gaze as he listened and thought on the information. She was on a mission. He, well, he was now for all intents and purposes, a fugitive on the run. Other than staying alive, he had no real plans, no goals. What was he going to do now? He must have spoken his question out loud before he realized it, because Kaya cocked her head and gave a small chuckle in response.

“What are you going to do indeed, dantum? I think that’s what everyone has to figure out. Until you do, though, I suppose you can tag along with us for a while.” She took another sip of her tea before she set it back down on the counter. “After all, it’s not like we’d be able to get rid of ya any time soon. Porter’s gotten attached.” She smiled and gave a short hum, “and I think you’d make a decent enough late-night conversationalist. Granted, you do need a little more practice.”

Garn felt a flicker of surprise and returned the smile. He’d like that. Here on this antiquated but cozy ship, surrounded by terrifying but welcoming aliens, he thought he’d really like that.

#humans are weird #aliens #space #humans are space orcs #prisoner #garn #galactic confederation #writeblr #original writing

[rphosphor]

MCYT/DSMP Tumblr Etiquette Guide

I made another post that was basically everything you needed to know about how to use Tumblr + the etiquette since a bunch of people from Twitter have migrated here. This post is basically that post cut down only to include the etiquette.

-It is okay to block people. If they’re doing something bad, you find them annoying, etc. just block the person. Do not make call out posts and public blocklists. If you want, you can message your mutuals (they have a green star in your follower tab) and tell them not to interact with the person. No one is notified when you block them, you will stop appearing in their dashboard and they will stop appearing in yours. If they try to visit your blog, it'll display as if the page isn't working & give an error if they try to reblog your posts.

-Using tone indicators. They work exactly the same as on Twitter, but are more commonly located in the tags, asks, or replies.

-Tag properly. Tags are part of the only way to categorise, search, and find posts, so tagging a lot of things incorrectly can cause a lot of problems for other people.

-Do not crosstag. It doesn’t get your post more exposure, it just annoys people and clogs up tags with unrelated things.

-Put trigger warnings in the tags. This allows people to filter the posts they don’t want to see. Keep them consistent and simple. Most people use [xyz] tw or tw [xyz].

-Tag critical/discourse, etc. when applicable. Don’t put discourse on the main tag so that it won’t be shown to people that don’t want to see it. This is not optional. Use #[xyz] critical or #c![xyz] negative, not #[xyz].

-Use spoiler tags when posting about recent events. Usually you’d need to tag events for 2-7 days after they happen, depending on the fandom. (Ex: #dsmp spoilers, #3rd life spoilers)

-If your post is long, tag it with #long post. You don’t really need to do it if it’s short with a read more. Some people aren’t okay with scrolling past long posts. On desktop, you just need to go to an empty line and click the three dots on the side to add a read more. On mobile, you need to type :readmore: in a new paragraph.

-Do not use #mine/craft, #mine/blr or #mine/craft youtubers (without the slash) unless you are talking about the actual game. There are people that don’t want to see things about mcyt, dsmp, etc. and we don’t want to clog up the tags. The tagging system will include the last one because it still contains #mine/craft.

-Don’t use #hermitcraft for 3rd Life content. 3rd life is a completely different series and deserves its own tag. Yes, a bunch of hermits are on the server, but by using the Hermitcraft tag, you flood the tag with non-Hermitcraft posts.

-Don’t use #hermitcraft for crossovers with the Dream SMP. Use #hc x dsmp so that the Hermitcraft tag isn’t flooded.

-(Hermitblr exclusive) Don’t put posts with ships on the main tags. Separate the content so that it’s not shown to people who don’t want to see it. Instead, use the tags: #hermitship, #hermitshipblr, #hermitshipping. Avoid using the main character tags as well ex: #grian, #impulsesv. Use the ship name tags instead ex: #jleo, #grumbo, #scardubs.

-If you see someone using the wrong tags/tags they shouldn’t use, politely tell them. Ex: Someone used #mine/craft on a Dream SMP post, so you tell them in their asks/replies that the Mine/craft tag is exclusive to the actual game.

-It’s okay to ask someone to use a trigger warning tag. If you follow someone whose posts can have something that triggers you/makes you uncomfortable. you can ask them to tag it so you can filter. They’re not obligated to use it, but there’s no harm in asking! You can always unfollow them in case it bothers you too much.

-If a post seems really personal or the op said they’re gonna delete it later, either don’t reblog, or ask if you can.

-Tumblr is very hungry and may accidentally eat your asks. If someone doesn’t answer, you can always ask if it went through.

-It’s not required, but much appreciated if you add image/video descriptions for the people who use screenreaders. Guide on it here.

-Reblogs alone don’t automatically give a post more exposure. You need to tag reblogs so that they show up and get recommended to people. Unless you have a large following, there’s a minuscule chance an untagged reblog would get any attention at all. This is incredibly important if you’re reblogging to share an artist’s work or something similar.

#mcytblr #dsmpblr #hermitblr #mcyttwt #how to tumblr #welcome to tumblr #my post #post 5

[hakaibunshi]

2020 fanwork highlights

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works! 

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Thank you so much @kuriboh-i-choose-you for tagging me??... I am not good at this, but I will try to do something positive for once, I guess, and shamefully plug my own work........................(?) °_ °’’ 

feat. puzzle - scandal - pride - wish - dragon - kingcrab but tagging others first because this is going to be too long.

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So many have already done this, but I was not able to find @pridefulrose @life-0r-death @shinayashipper @tenderwulf @the-kings-of-games if they already did this, then I am sorry, I miss a lot of stuff all the time ...

(And I am also sorry for tagging people who have never even interacted with me  人(_ _*) but I enjoyed their works so I am tagging anyway, please forgive me and ignore me if you want to)

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O P I A 

[Puzzleshipping | ~12K]

He is used to seeing the world through Yugi’s eyes and filtering each experience through his thoughts; A thing was never just a thing but whatever Yugi saw in it. But not anymore. He watches his own fingers move closer, pushing in between the other’s until they finally all lock in place. He doesn’t know what that feels like to Yugi, but he sees their hands loving each other. And has to fully acknowledge that it is wonderful.

“No.” His voice feels comfortable for the first time. Along the length of his leg, Yugi’s ankle brushes in placid motion up and down. Bashful yet intrigued, Atem pays attention to how his body reacts to all these physical breaches. He also thinks back to what had happened in the photo booth.

Overall this story has just taught me so much; it needs to take a spot here. It was the very first time I have ever participated in a fandom event. It was the first time I wrote for Puzzleshipping, my first time writing Fluff, first time writing FOR someone else.

The pressure was so real, and I struggled so much along the way, but at the same time, this was the thing that catapulted me back into the fandom for real. After this, it seemed impossible to turn away again, and I realized how much I love not just writing but putting effort into writing. Polishing it, fighting against it if needed.

Break A Heart

[KingCrabshipping | ~12K]

Jack, who stood a head taller than Yusei, leaned down, hovering his lips over the fair skin of Yusei’s neck, sending hot breath on its path. Yusei’s desire was audible through his short breaths, but he didn’t care, not that he was keeping it a secret. The image in his head was Jack biting him to pieces, and it made him shiver. “Come on then, Yusei.” Jack’s voice was heavy, even if he hummed his words. He leaned in until he could feel the buckles of Yusei’s jacket against his chest. The beast's teeth playfully caressing the shell of his ear, Yusei couldn’t hide the vibration it sent through his body. “Fight me.”

This needs to be here not because it is especially great, it really isn’t, BUT it was something I wrote for me and for me only because this is what I wanted and needed and for once I really did not care if others would like it or not. And that was kind of special for me. Also this ship. It just makes me lose my shit, I love it this much.

A Wish Granted

[Wishshipping | Dragonshipping | ongoing]

“Ain’t as bad as it looks,” he felt the need to say. “Most are older.”

Yugi turned away and reached for the towel, wringing it in his hands. Already, just the sound of it had some bizarrely calming effect. “Sorry…, I didn’t mean to stare. I didn’t think you were hurt this badly.” He spread the towel across both his hands and gestured to Katsuya to lift his hand. Some water dripped onto his thighs but it didn’t seem to bother him.

“As I said, ain’t all fresh.”

“They were fresh once.” He slowly started to rub the dirt and dry blood off the skin, evidently taking great care not to put too much pressure at first, not to cause him any pain.

“Well, they don’t hurt anymore.”

The faintest, saddest smile hushed over Yugi’s face and for a moment Katsuya thought he might start to cry. “Hm… just looking at them hurts”, he said under his breath, as if to himself.

Katsuya thought about that for a second but stopped before he, too, could feel it.

My baby. Although it is constantly taking the back seat to make space for ongoing smaller projects and fandom events, this is so close to my heart. Jounouchi’s POV because I love him and I feel way too connected to this boy.

Even tho this is getting long: Inspired by @kuriboh-i-choose-you I will also put here a special mention [Scandalship WIP haha]:

HEAVENSENT 

is the first thing I started writing in 2020. And until now it is the one I most want to write but also rarely find the correct headspace to do so. But I want to share a little something here then, if I might~

It is a story of Kaiba trying to travel to the afterlife, but traveling into the past instead, whoops.

[Scandalshipping | Prideshipping | WIP]

(of chapter 2)

A strange and new insecurity bewitched him. Was he meant to bow? No one ever taught him about this. But he did not feel like bowing to the other, instead, he lifted his chin ever so slightly. “I was worried not to be able to communicate.” “I wouldn’t have a language barrier get in the way of my revenge. Now, where are my clothes? Don’t make me ask again…” The audacity had Atem nearly choke on his breath. Wasn’t it too much to talk like this, no matter who he was? “It would appear the servants have taken it to clean... I will make sure it will be returned to you. You shall forgive the insolence.” He thought about calling the guards in, but didn’t want to interrupt the time between them quite yet. Once the priests found out about his awakening, they would be all over the case. “May I ask your name? I wish to at least address you properly. Forgive me for not recognizing you should there have been a way for me to kn-” “Seto Kaiba.” Seto! By Rah, if this was a joke, he wished it to come to an end already. Besides him being interrupted yet again when all he did was try to be polite, to have his dearest’s name be used atop of his shape, how much insult would he have to tolerate? “Seto….?” “It is unfortunate… I thought I should have left a lasting impression on that ghost of yours.” “I’m afraid I don’t understand.” “Yes, I’m aware. It’s rather obvious.” Searching for his composure, Atem pushed aside the blinds, pretending curiosity as to what was happening outside, where nothing was happening at all because the whole world was happening right here. He sensed it through the vibrations inside his chest. Alarmed by the sound of naked footsteps behind him, he turned just in time to hurry and push himself between the door and Seto Kaiba. “What are you doing?” “Out of my way, Pharaoh, I will find the lackeys responsible for my clothes vanishing, and I will get them, hopefully before someone dares to rub them against a stone down in the Nile.” His trembling palms raised toward Kaiba's chest, Atem managed to stop his motion, incredibly cautious not to touch him. “There is nothing wrong with the Nile, but I am trying to be understanding. However, will you please consider your appearance and withhold from exposing yourself like this to the entire court. The guards might think you a mad man. I ask you to stay here, I will get your dress back for you.” “You better be quick about it.” “Just...” Atem did not appreciate the language at all, but the worst of it was that the harsh fold between Kaiba’s brows, the disregard in the air between them and the light garment made his knees weak. “Just stay here. And stay quiet. If you cause trouble, I-” “I got it.” He turned away. “Just get on with it.”

This is so long, how awful, I apologize !!!!! but also ... greatful if anyone at all reads through this x.x’’’’’ 

ヽ(´ཀ`」∠) 彡3

#fanfiction #tagging game #2020 fanwork highlights #its all yugioh because i got stuck here #text

[theluckyshadow]

OC Headcannons

Fei Zhao

Will make separate post for the rest of NCT cuz this is getting long + if wanted I guess I could do a smut one like I did for Ateez and Skz- not Got7 except maybe Yugyeom for Jiah... moving on

Fei Zhao, 17/03/2000, ♉️, 🇦🇺

3/4 OC’s born and raised in Australia

Both parents are Chinese but live (and raised Fei) in Aus

Fei is an only child but grew up being the eldest cousin, her parents had her very young (17) and currently have no plans for more kids

Her grandmothers are always (joking) about her giving them great grandkids

Her dad’s mum is the worst and has even asked her about taking a “pick from her band”

Fei’s has a middle name- Rayne

Another who had read the fan fiction written for her and her band

Except she actively reads them out just to laugh and she makes comments on them

Scared Winwin doing that once

Another OC who is pretty inappropriate, to the displeasure of Kun

Super close with her parents

Doesn’t like to be babied, the boys learnt that the tough way

SM/Label V put her down as an SM rookie by mistake but the fans thought she fit the NCT look

She was super excited to debut with WayV

While she was highly requested to end up joining NCT-WayV specifically she still receives hate

She stands her ground and doesn’t let it get to her unless they’ve build up

Is friends with Mark and Johnny- honourary Foreign Swagger

Steals the boys clothes

Likes video games- Fallen Order is currently her favourite

Cares far less for her looks and presence than she should

Messy hair, no pants, no bra etc usually not caught on film without a bra though

Suffers panic attacks and lows that she’s successfully hidden

Successfully hidden her fear of people, doesn’t want anyone to take advantage of that

She constantly gets shipped with all of WayV, and Dream members since those are who she’s seen with the most

She knows the ship names: Feidery, Feijun, YangFei, Fun/Kei, Tei/Fen, Feiwin/Feicheng, Lufei, Renfei, Feno (tho people did accidentally start calling her and Jeno Fennel because of how similar the ship name sounded and she just accepted it), Feichan, Feimin, Fenle etc she’s sure there is more

She’s a main vocal but a killer rapper

Everyone thought she’d be an absolute cutie, BUT with the boys she’s a fellow crackhead and on her solo stages a beast of a dancer (aka damn she hot)

Has no filter, at all, her Yang and Ten are the worst left alone. Since all three are English speakers they torment the others with teasing

She has deep regrets in teaching the boys Aussie slang because now they find it interesting and keep finding ones that are inappropriate and make her laugh way to hard.

Don’t tell anyone but she swears she misheard Yang asking her for a gobby in which she cried out laughing and asked him to repeat it “he just asked what it was-“

If she had to pick a member to date you’d need to give her a week to think of an answer because she loves them all and wouldn’t have a clue who to pick

Also can’t forget that these boys (par Xiaojun and Kun) don’t knock at all so they’ve seen more of her than she’d like but thankfully she’s usually got all the important parts covered

Relationship with WayV

Kun

“Hi mum.” “FOOD!” “Cooking battle time.” “Magic!”

She’s like the child Kun doesn’t want and with her and Yang combined in teasing him it’s endless

Dear Kun’s future s/o- many apologies if he doesn’t want kids now because of them

She confides in him as a leader about things bothering her that could affect the band but only if he’s noticed first- she doesn’t really do deep and meaningfuls

Overall they get along really well and she trusts him

Ten

Endlessly teasing each other

One minute both of them are fine, maybe cuddling really depends next they are making fun of each other’s pre-debut photos

Her, Ten and Winwin are the most flexible but he’s a show off and her personality is a bit competitive so she usually out flexes him

They both like cuddles and she’s the one everyone goes too but she usually goes to Ten for a hug

Feels really awkward when she has her lows and night terrors but Ten is usually there for her so some people think that they are the closest in the group

Winwin

She buys him icecream whenever he wants

Puppy eyes do not work on her unless you are Dong Sicheng aka Winwin

She’s quite strong and can usually be found lifting him up just to annoy him

He goes to her for advice sometimes, not for any particular reason but she’s pretty good at advice and is super reliable

Very much a sister brother relationship

Lucas

He teases her for being short, the teasing doesn’t last long because she has no qualms about punching him for it

Surprisingly they don’t actually interact too much just kind of say hi how are you and what not

It’s not that they don’t they just haven’t clicked yet but maybe they will

Though when they do get along they are loud and proud

Xiaojun

Protective of him

She knows he isn’t delicate but in her nature she sees him and thinks must protect lmao

The two of them are quite touchy, same with Hendery and Ten and when they are sat beside each other in interviews they’ll secretly hold hands (or pinkies) or during lives someone has a hand on the others thigh

She’s very comfortable around him and likes getting cuddles from him when she can

If she can’t get to Ten after a night terror she tries to get Xiaojun without waking up Yangyang and they’ll sneak into her room and just talk until she or both of them fall asleep

Hendery

Crackhead central

She has this urge to out idiot him every time he does something dumb

Like stated before with Xiaojun they are touchy, these two are the clingiest though

These two are always touching, but not in a bad sense, like if these two are sat together, his head will be in her lap- vice versa or her legs over his legs etc

These two are also gym buddies, really because both are a little lazy but are also competitive but only around each other

Probably shipped together the most too because they always seem to be together and neither actually tease the other

YangYang

Oop it’s idiots time

These two don’t have a filter when left alone or with Ten - well to an extent

Remember that live where Yang said if he had a son he’d name the son Eleven

Yeah she was there and she was sitting in just utter confusion the entire time because she’d stopped listening until that point

Also that bit when he goes “anything can happen” imagine having Fei there sitting just behind them looking super confused as they turn and look at her- thanks you two you fueled rumours of her and Yang dating

Cue her saying “Jesus Christ I feel sorry for you future partner. I wouldn’t let you name the kid.”

Cannot be bothered calling him Yangyang it’s pretty much always just Yang

#wayv #wayv x oc #kun #ten #winwin #yukhei #xiaojun #hendery #yangyang #fei zhao oc

[forgxtemall]

@illunaris​ has sent: 38, 3, 5 @obliviouskind​ has sent: -13, 16, 21 and 35?- @victorydestined​ has sent: #6, 14, 22 (to be honest meme) @waveraging​ has sent: 1, 3, 8 — be honest meme!

the be honest meme.   [NO LONGER ACCEPTING!]

Everything is under read more!

1. What would prevent you from following someone?

// Here’s a quick run down of things, bc I think I’ve made this quite clear in my rules:

Political stuff. Regardless of the person’s stance & views, RP isn’t the place for this - take it to a personal blog or somewhere else.

The blog is empty. There is no sample of their writing, it is nothing more than a bunch of generic aesthetic/musing/their own promo posts. This generally hints, at a blog that won’t stick for the long run.

Lack of a rules/about page. Basic stuff, that surprisingly a bunch of people don’t have. This also includes, blogs with those types of themes that leave you with “Where the fuck are the links???”. Also, no, linking your “about page” to the wiki doesn’t count as an about, I want to know your muse, not the character I already know.

Anyone under 18. I am not comfortable with interacting/talking to anyone below the legal age. I touch on a wide variety of topics, most of which, aren’t suitable for anyone underage.

Assosciation with people who I’d rather avoid. This used to be bigger in the past, when filtering on mobile & blacklist weren’t a thing, but I still find myself doing this on rare- isolated cases here & there.

The writing style/interpretation clashes with mine. This is self-explenatory. English may not be my first language, but if I can’t understand your writing- then what’s even the point?

Fandom I don’t want to assosciate/crossover with. MLP, Under.tale, League of Leg.ends, Home.stuck...

Fictional/other kin.s. Self-explenatory, I don’t wish to waste my time with ppl who can’t distinguish reality from fiction. & I’ve had a bunch of bad experiences with those in the past.

3. What current rp trend do you hate?

// Those IC-blogs. Just... No. Nope, nopeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. Stop this please.........

5. Do you prefer interacting with male muses or female more? Why?

// TBH the muse’s gender isn’t something I pay attention to, unless I’m looking to ship with mine.

My focus is on the character/muse as a whole.

6. Do you prefer writing male muses or female more? Why?

// Imma say it: Kahili is the very first young woman, I picked to rp as in a long time.

I prefer writing male muses, because I’ve had some god awful experiences in the past that have put me off from rping as females for the longest time. I’ve had my own fair share of bad experiences, while rping as men- but they never came anywhere near to what I had to endure as a woman.

From complete creepers (both coming from male muses & females alike), to having f/f forced onto me when I didn’t want it & so on. I was just generally having a far better time with guys, than with girls.

8. Name any three things about the rpc that bother you.

Policing people’s blogs contents (self-explenatory);

People making their muse POC/Trans/LGBTQ+/have a mental disorder just to avoid criticism (self-explenatory);

People’s entitlement for RPing (nobody owes you an interaction/plot/etc. Srsly cut this nasty attitude out)

13. Have you ever thought about leaving rp? What caused it? What changed your mind?

// There was a time I was, way more invested & interested in my discor.d rps than the ones on tumblr. So, for a moment I thought of going exclusive Dis.cord.

It all changed, when I managed to find a balance to them... For the most part- but still.

14. Do you think rp has had a positive or negative affect on your life or you as a person?

// It was through RP I got to finally share, my opinions & views on the series I absolutely love. Not only that, but I came across people who were genuinely interested on them. In a way, I was able to finally join the fandom through RPing. So I’d say, on this aspect- yes it definetely had a positive effect on me <3

16. If you could change one thing about rp on tumblr, what would it be? Why?

// As much fun I have wih making these graphics & icons, I can’t help but feel like nowadays RP has lost its focus from someone’s Rping/writing skills.

if tumblr screwed up and Thanos snapped the possibility of putting graphics/icons/etc, it would do wonders for the RPC.

The photoshop skills competition would stop right there. Also, it would be wonderful for artists, bc of ppl using fan arts for their edits without any credit/permission for their work.

21. Have you ever followed someone because you felt like you had to, not because you wanted to?

// Y  E S. It was the worst, it felt like I was being held at gunpoint........... Not fun at all, bc- our muses just didn’t have any real way to interact with each other in the first place.

22. What would make you block someone?

// Besides what I’ve stated above- at the start of this post?

Well, if the person rubs me in the wrong way, I’ll block them. Like... The person may not even have done anything to me, but I just don’t feel comfortable having them unblocked/following/interacting with my blog.

So I block them, just to avoid any possible awkward situation.

35. Do you read other people’s threads or do you only read your own?

// I wished I had the time to read MORE from the dash TBH. I do read some threads here & there from time to time! And I’ve read some great stuff from my mutuals!

38. What advice would you give to someone new to rp?

// Focus on your portrayal! Work on it! Develop your muse!

People will eventually find their way to you, just take your time & don’t be afraid to draw your limits/lines. Go do your thing & have your fun man!

#ooc / #long post tw #thank you for the ask! #oh boy look @ all these ppl looking for my salty ass JHBSDJHSD #illunaris #waveraging #obliviouskind #victorydestined

[gaslightgatekeepgodot]

A (sizeable) rant/essay concerning my experiences in the Tumblr JJBA fandom.

None of you asked to hear this, but I’m getting pretty pissed off at some people in particular (I will not name names, though I may heavily implicate some people) and it’s finally started to kinda spill over. So I’m letting it spill; take it or leave it.

I’m... Fairly irate at the moment, and writing out my feelings does tend to help me calm down in situations like this, so if I was going to put this anywhere the best place for it is probably on the public internet. Again, take it or leave it: this is the internet, you don’t have to interact with me if this concerns you or your ideals. Just click that handy little block button on my profile and you never have to see little Nat mouthing off again.

If you want me to summarise (I know not everyone wants/is able to read a fluffed-up pillar of text) or explain my reasoning behind anything I’ve said below the cut, feel free to direct message me here or on Discord @nati bati yi#1462. Once I get this off my chest I’ll be more than willing to chat to people about it. <3

(Before I say anything else, this is not intended to be a callout in any way, shape or form. I don’t mention the specific names of anybody, and the actions I do mention here will only point to specific people if you know them too. Anyone on the outside should have zero idea of who anyone I bring up is; I do not want anyone to get harassed over this, and I very much do not want to start drama - that’s what inspired me to go off and write this hunk of garbage in the first place. I’m just... Sick to death of the fandom as a whole.)

Anyway. Here we go.

From what I’ve been able to tell, being in this fandom for just under a year now, there are two main halves to it: the gay-hating, stale-meme-parroting dudebro side, who seem to mostly congregate around YouTube and Reddit, and... Whatever the side based on Tumblr (and probably now Twitter) is. I don’t spend a lot of time on Reddit, so naturally I’ve been more exposed to the Tumblr side of the fandom, and after experiencing the ideals some people here want to force on other people I’ve come to the conclusion I’d almost rather be immersed in the bigoted dudebro side. And I say this as an ace-spec/gay trans man.

I’ll start with the blocklist.

I think most of us on Tumblr came to the conclusion that the blocklist was utter bullshit, but I did see a few people in a Discord server I have since left (I will expand on this later) defending the reasoning behind some ships being on there, citing the fact they had been abused in a relationship with a similar age gap. I can definitely see why that would bother a person, and I do not want to erase the fact that people have been and will be abused in similar relationships, but you can’t project your singular experience onto every fictional, non-canon character relationship and every person who ships it. For one, not every relationship is going to turn out the same just because it meets this one criteria of “the age gap is too big”, and, also, you don’t have to write fiction to totally reflect reality. You are in full creative control. Maybe if the characters were real people they wouldn’t click, but if you’re drawing a picture or writing a fanfic you don’t have to go along with that. You can write them so that they’re good to each other, while still keeping it in character. Araki has said that Jotaro and Kakyoin’s personalities don’t work together very well, and that they wouldn’t have become friends or even spoken to each other if Jotaro wasn’t a Stand user... But Jotaro/Kakyoin just happens to be the most-written about JJBA ship on AO3. Me? I love Jotakak. It’s about the only thing I do ship. And I’ve read some quite frankly amazing fanfiction where the two boys are paired and they work together, and it’s still very much in character. Of course, I’m very much against loli/shota content or content depicting characters who don’t look very old- if someone drew Koichi in a sexual situation I would be pissed as all hell, but I don’t have to engage with that content any further. I can just filter out the tag/block the OP and move on. You don’t need to make a fuss and tell/imply to people that they are paedophilic for enjoying well-written content where a 17-year-old is in a healthy relationship with a 22-year-old, platonic or otherwise.

My second point brings in some of the things I’ve learned while studying media this past year. My main point here: not everyone in an audience is the same. There is a reason differential decoding and the uses and gratifications theory exist. The uses and gratifications theory states, at its most basic, that the audience of a media text is active, not passive; i.e. they are not just absorbing every piece of data thrown at them by the text they are consuming, and they are consuming different media to satisfy a need- for JJBA, that need could be entertainment, escapism, identifying with a character similar to yourself or to give you something to talk about with your friends. Differential decoding arises when someone consuming a piece of the media does not entirely go along with the creator’s preferred reading of it- an example might be how a sizeable amount of people enjoy villainous or “disgusting” characters such as Dio, Cioccolata, Stroheim or Melone, when they were clearly written in canon to be abhorrent, unlikable people for varying reasons. I can also say that, because the audience is active, and consume media based on their personal needs, that somebody writing fanfic of a ship you don’t like isn’t going to make incest or paedophilia more socially acceptable. I don’t consume that content, because I don’t feel the need to. Sure, real paedos might, but they’re a minority. Just because a couple hundred people or so read a fanfic on the free web where a grown adult does the dirty with a little kid, doesn’t mean to say everyone in the world will suddenly start thinking it’s ok. Mention it to any sane person in real life and they will not like that idea any more than you do.

And my third point is more a personal thing than anything else, but there is a community I used to be part of (and was part of almost from the beginning) where I didn’t feel welcome because of people causing drama over things like what I mentioned above. I started multiple discourses entirely by accident by saying I didn’t understand why everyone though X ship was horribly problematic and worth getting mad at people over. I still don’t feel like anyone deserves to be harassed over characters and ships they enjoy, but that doesn’t mean to say I support all of it. Along with generally feeling ignored by a lot of the moderators of that server, as well as their friends, I was just sick to death of how they seemed to single out some certain people to say, “hey, don’t do this” when other people seemed exempt. I was verbally warned for posting innuendos in a general chat (but it’s not like I could anywhere else on the server, because I’m not 18 yet), but at least once every day I would see two people flirting in-character in whatever channel they happened to meet in, and it never seemed to be in a roleplay channel- I couldn’t see into NSFW to check if they did it there too, but the fact it would leak out into gen concerned me. They would throw innuendo after innuendo at each other, and they never seemed to stop, or be told to stop. Yes, I could have messaged the moderators to say it made me uncomfy, but one of them was a moderator themselves, so I felt a little out my element doing so. 

Another thing that bothered me is when I tried to join an offshoot of that server for kin, and the admin - I assume - of said offshoot server messaged me (with some other conversation concerning it in between) that, despite the fact I only wanted in to help me figure out what it meant to me, I wasn’t allowed in because somebody was uncomfy with doubles. I completely understand that, but I had spoken to the only person it could have been (I wasn’t given a name, but it wasn’t difficult to figure out who it was) multiple times about that character and how similar we were- hell, we had even roleplayed together as doubles of that character and no problems were ever expressed to me. If anything it seemed like we left off in a spot we could have carried on from later. It might not have been intended that way, but being told I wasn’t allowed in there made me feel excluded from the community nonetheless, especially because I’d had a few people tell me the night before that they wanted more people in there and that I’d be totally welcome. I was also told, before any of this happened, that the same person blocked a friend of mine in another server for going on a small rant about how they didn’t like the way Josuke acted in the episode where he plays dice with Rohan and ends up burning his house down, because they kin Josuke..? At least, that’s what was relayed to me.

But, hey ho, it’s all behind me now. I won’t lie; I don’t really plan on ever going back. I don’t want to engage anymore, because it makes me uncomfortable and anxious thinking about it, so I most likely will unfollow most (if not all) of the blogs pertaining to that community tonight. I do have a few people still there who I miss speaking to, but I’ve DM’d all of them on Discord at least once since I’ve left and talked to them about either how I miss them or something entirely unrelated to the server. I’d like to talk more with them, but DMs are always awkward for me to begin with... I have a feeling they might not want to talk after reading this, and I think I’m ready to accept that? Might be difficult not being able to scream about fanfic as much, but I won’t impose on anyone if my presence makes them uncomfy. I don’t want to be that guy.

I’ll say it again: now that I’ve got this off my chest and subsequently calmed down a lot, I’m more than willing to talk about any of it. Just shoot me a message on Discord and I’ll reply when I’m able and feeling up to talking about it again. For now I’m probably just going to go back to pissing about on Flight Rising or play Smash or something

#melon sounds #jjba #this doesn't mean i won't be consuming or creating fanon content anymore #you can pry kakyoin content from my cold dead hands #i just don't want to engage with the fandom as a community anymore. #which is hell because i want to roleplay #but i guess i could just do one-on-one/kceb for now #ilu kceb. you're all the best #but uhhh hit me up if you want to 1x1... i only feel fully comfy playing kakyoin at the moment but i love AUs and canon divergence #if we get close enough i could try my hand at playing someone else #and yeah. i'm not angry anymore #writing this has calmed me down immensely. jj&c bois will know how ready to fight someone i was #anyway. goodbye for now. #it's viddy gaem time

[radiant-blue-eyes-blog]

In order to make my rules more accessible to mobile users, I’m posting them here-

Please follow these rules or risk being unfollowed, soft blocked, or blocked;

While I am primarily a para/multi-para role-player(with a dab of novella mixed in), I have also done some semi-para and one-liner role-play. It typically depends on what I’m giving. That said, if I get too little, I will ask for more because I need some form of content in order to reply. If I send you a reply or starter and it’s too long for you (I’ve never run into this problem, but I have friends who have), please do not ask me to shorten it for you. I likely won’t be able to.

You don’t have to tell me you’re dropping a thread. You don’t have to keep up with a constant Ask Box oriented role-play. I don’t need constant interaction with you to keep following you. That said, I will likely drop threads and whatnot. It’s not for any particular reason. I only have so much time and so much energy. This isn’t a rule so much as a fore warning; If dropped threads bothers you, then perhaps starting them with me isn’t the grandest of ideas.

While I, myself, will have triggering content on my blog, I do attempt to tag EVERYTHING. I will be posting a tags list on my blog with a list of tags I use for triggers, but if you need a very specific tag used, please do not hesitate to message me. Triggers and appropriate tags are extremely important for me as I want my blog to be safe for everyone who follows me.

Shipping with Kaiba will probably actually be very difficult, if shipping is your intent. Please do not auto-ship without express permission. I prefer slow builds and relationship development. As well, if you don’t play your character in a way that I can see us shipping, please do not be upset. I adore all forms of role-playing; Friends, enemies, frienemies, etc. Please give me more than just mindless ship fodder. Plus, I will not change how Kaiba acts or responds just for the sake of friendship or any form of ship. I play him a certain way and I like how I play him.

I take a while to reply sometimes. I have a soul sucking job (I have literally watched so many people crack and fold here, man, it’s not okay.) and I have a lot of personal stuff that can make me too exhausted to reply immediately. Please do not pressure me for replies. As well, there are very close friends I role-play with here and they typically take priority. And remember, the more threads I have going, the slower I’ll be. Simply put, I very much appreciate your patience, but if you can not be patient, then perhaps I am not a suitable role-play partner.

I use icons for some of my blogs! You do not need to. Obviously. If you want to use my icons, feel free to. I don’t mind. They took me two seconds to make and are just cropped doujin images with a blue filter. That being said, I do NOT condone stealing other rper’s icons. A lot of people worked really hard on theirs and are really proud. It’s awesome that you think they look cool, but please don’t steal other people’s icons. Also, if you use fancy text for your role-plays or fancy tags, that’s awesome. I typically do not. If that bothers you for some reason, simply leave.

I don’t like elitism. We’re here for fun. So instead of mocking new people or calling them trash for not having fancy layouts or whatever, how about instead offer to help? Someone’s layout being a more mobile oriented one doesn’t mean they’re a bad role-player. You’re no better than the rest of us. We’re all just nerds writing about OTHER nerds. Like, how is elitism even an issue in this fandom, I don’t even– Just don’t do it. I likely won’t interact with you if you are.

While I originally was not very particular in how I role-played here on Tumblr, I’ve found some peeves that I have. If I answer an in character ask and you can’t make a new post, just tell me. You can reblog the ask and then I’ll make the new post, but please do not continue the role-play in thread comments, because I will absolutely lose your reply. Do not reblog an ask without telling me first. I don’t mind doing the grunt work to make the new post, though. So just- Communicate. I also do not role-play in private messages. If you want to role-play privately, I use Discord for that. If you do not use Discord, then you’re just out of luck.

If you are not involved in the role-play do not reblog or comment on it. At all. Like it, read it, move on. Maybe message me or send an Ask about it, but that’s it. I appreciate you enjoying my work, though.

Unless you are a very close friend of mine, don’t come to me with your drama. While I’m known to be pretty outspoken on my views here, I don’t just get involved in everyone’s stuff, even if I’d agree with you and take your side. I’m too tired for it. That said, people need to stop creating drama in the first place.

I won’t give you any “warning” if you break my rules to the point of me blocking people. If I block you, just leave it alone. If I even hear a whisper about “Someone please ask @radiant-blue-eyes why they blocked me”, I will go out of my way to never address any utterance of your existence. If I block you, deal with it. It’s simple. I don’t know why everyone has an issue with that. I’m sure plenty of people have me blocked, and I don’t even remember their names.

I try not to be selective. I like being open to most people. So if I don’t follow you back right away, it’s probably because I just haven’t gotten around to it. Please be patient with me.

Any nsfw role-play replies will be put under a Read More, so I will only do those replies on my computer. They may take a bit longer. This include smut, gore, and extreme triggers. While my role-play partners don’t need to do this, I will do it always.

This concludes my rules page. I understand that they’re much longer and more in-detailed than my old rules page, but after a few years, I think they were due for an upgrade.

#snowflakes guidelines|laws in a lawless land might be fruitless

[glorioussimon]

best parts of the understudies episodes

episode 1

everyone’s faces when michael walks in

the subtitles misspell moritz as morris

jeremy makes a ‘stop talking’ gesture at jolene

after clark says “you know, the understudies” everyone strikes little poses and it’s cute and i love them

this has nothing to do with anything but i’m flashing back to when i thought jolene and michael were going to be love interests. little did i know that jolene is a huge lesbian

clark’s face at anabelle when they’re playing never have i ever

harmony’s and jeremy’s too tbh

me, adopting all of these kids after the end of this episode? it’s more likely than you think

episode 2

everyone is so excited about anabelle bringing them pizza, and, i mean, big mood

jeremy is a gay who can’t sit properly

michael rolling his eyes at jolene and jolene sticking her tongue out at him

harmony, the og rilette shipper

side note harmony is so pretty and i’m so gay

anabelle gave herself and simon a ship name

everyone’s faces after anabelle says that she and simon went on a date. either they all ship it or they all know about siremy and i’m willing to bet that it’s the latter

i would die for jeremy travers this isn’t news i just wanted everyone to know

episode 3

jeremy is conspicuously absent right after simon says that he’s leaving

jolene is Done with this heterosexual bullshit

“sorry for breaking up your wavy chill sesh”

harmony hugging clark

everyone singing!! i love them

everyone death glaring simon at the end (even anabelle) and simon just looking so confused

episode 4

i’m in love with shannon purser send tweet

lilette’s face when anabelle says “sorry that i passed out at the end of the football party”

i feel so bad for anabelle tbh? like she clearly really liked him and it just didn’t turn out well. i hope everything goes okay for her in the future because, you know, we won’t see it :)

“I WANTED TO THANK YOU FOR GETTING ME INVOLVED IN STANTON DRAMA IT’S KIND OF CHANGED MY LIFE”

lilette probably texted simon immediately after the robbie thing happened

anything that clark says or does. i love him

the girls arguing about what filter to use

lexi harmony and jolene are an iconic wlw squad

"i’m really gonna miss you...WE ALL ARE” subtle there jeremy

simon’s face at the end. i cried the first time i saw this episode and now i’m remembering why

episode 5

jolene quizzing michael

the troupe talking about tracey and kranepool

the subtitles don’t even bother with kranepool’s name they just say [indistinct]

violet is so beautiful. i’m sorry so many of these are talking about how gay i am

cheryl forcibly making everyone stand up and dance

michael doesn’t dance

JOLENE DABBING

clark’s reaction when michael actually dances. like everyone’s reaction is great but especially clark’s

“can i please study now?” “no” i love jolene and michael

episode 6

jolene’s complete disinterest in simon and anabelle

also the fact that katherine reis and ted sutherland are dating irl makes this a lot funnier

everyone’s wtf faces at anabelle when she says “i think we did it”

s.w.a.t.us interruptus

anything that harmony does tbh she is so cute and i love her

all of the girls trying on the costumes

so cheryl and harmony both don’t mention a gender when talking about their first times so they’re both not straight trust me i know what i’m talking about

“somewhere between a dylan o’brien and harry styles” i mean, i’m gay but mood

“like a best friend” i’m crying. i love masha

the girls all have such a sweet friendship!! love those girls

episode 7

THIS ONE IS MY FAVORITE

everyone’s faces at the beginning

jolene once again being done with the heterosexual bullshit

i misread the subtitles as saying “milky and wendla” and let me tell you i was shocked

jolene booping francis’s nose

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

jeremy and cheryl high-fiving

for a split second it looks like francis falls off of the bench. i love him

jeremy’s voice when he says “surprise”. what is he doing

jeremy hugging francis!!

i don’t even know what to comment on anymore this is all so good

cheryl side-eyeing everyone

jolene with the dinosaur head

panning over to the t-shirt at the very end

i love this episode so much you don’t even know

episode 8

I LOVE HARMONY

everyone else gets so into it when someone is freestyling. we love supportive friends

clark turning on a spotlight for robbie

anabelle looks sad i hope she’s okay

“mama i miss you detrell’s been smotherin’“ :(((

the drastic change in camera angle. it looks like a music video

clark standing on the chair

one of the comments says “I'm just imagining Robbie writing and rehearsing this in his room waiting for a moment to pretend it was freestyle“

episode 9

they’re all so salty about the changes

sasha talking about tracey has me crying

every time that michael and sasha interact my heart grows three sizes

anabelle has a sister!! i get so unreasonably excited whenever we get any info about anyone’s family

one time ward let tracey quit and then she just came back and acted like nothing had happened

“seinfeld? come on, binge it, people” i would die for you michael hallowell

in episode 7(?) tracey says that francis hated her during guys and dolls but in this he says that he was just scared of her. i love francis so much you guys

everyone loves tracey so much!! big mood though

the subtitles fucking up and saying “she is Stan drama” is still the funniest thing in the world to me

sasha’s face at the end :(

i want an understudies finale :(

#rise nbc #understudies #long post / #sorry this is so long i just have a lot to say about the understudies #mine #aj.txt

[brittysaucefanfic]

Brand New Blue

Part 34

(First)(Previous)(Next) (AO3)

It was a long few minutes after the doors shut behind their friends before either of them spoke. Lance spent the time staring at his hands, trying to swallow the fact that he had attacked Allura.

He didn't actually remember doing it. But the first thing Hunk told him was that he had attacked her mid- demonstration. To Lance, it was all just a black, empty space in his memory. Last thing he remembered was the flash of light against Allura’s nails when she stumbled, and then all of a sudden he was staring into Hunk’s eyes as they crouched on the floor.

He attacked Allura.

"We can all tell that things have been hard on you since your return." Hunk started. Lance shifted his eyes to look at Hunk, but the man wouldn't look him in the eye. Hunk opted to stare at the far wall instead.

"You need to talk to someone Lance. About what's happened. Otherwise it'll keep eating you up from the inside out, and days like today will only get worse." Hunk said, his voice filled with a sorrow so deeply set, one would think he was talking about himself.

It's not like Lance was blind. He knew that something happened on the ship to change him, to make Hunk act different. It was subtle of course, little things that changed. However, when the only people you really are around only take up seven fingers on the daily, you're bound to learn things about one another.

Like Pidge. Believe it or not, but she sings to herself when others aren't around. And her voice goes from that sort of boyish deepness she talks in, into a sweet, lilting, high pitched voice.

Very beautiful.

Allura, she likes to tuck herself away in a small space, tight and seemingly uncomfortable, just to take naps. Lance suspects she likes the small places, and sometimes she'll use her shifting ability to become about the size of the mice.

Keith is artistic. Lance once found one of his little sketches of a planet they saved, and had hunted down the artist in question. Keith had clammed up when confronted, so Lance just made him promise to leave some more pieces out on accident so Lance could see.

Now, every once in a while, Lance wakes up to find a new sketch slipped onto his nightstand. How Keith gets in and out without Lance hearing is still an unsolved mystery.

Neither of them speak of the drawings though.

And Shiro, he loves to talk to himself in the mirror. Lance once caught him in the shower room, which was communal and separated only by curtains. Shiro tackled him when Lance tried to run and tell Pidge.

So yeah, they all know things about each other like a real family does. They threaten each other not to tell the rest of the castle, they barter and negotiate as well. A real familiar type of interaction.

Which means, Lance noticed when Hunk leaves the room when he enters. And when Hunk refuses to make eye contact. And when Hunk borderline flinches when Lance tries to talk to him.

"You should take your own advice." Lance said after a moment of thinking. Hunk jumped again, which was his version of flinching. Lance cut him off when Hunk opened his mouth, his face creased in protestation.

"We've noticed how off you've been acting too you know." Lance started. He was unable to drain the hurt from his voice. "You can't look me in the eye, run out of the room when I enter, you flinch at me." Each action was punctuated by Lance's counting fingers, each making Hunk shy away a little more.

That hurt a lot.

"What happened on that ship?" Lance whispered loudly. Unbidden, a slew of horrific images began filtering through his mind. Memories, except instead of Lance, it was Hunk. Chains, pain, the glint of blue liquid spreading and spreading. Hunk’s headband bloody, his eyes crying.

Fear and anger began rising up into his chest and throat, and probably his voice too. "What did they do to you?" He said. Something must have leaked into his voice enough, because the two of them finally locked eyes, dark blue against dark brown.

"Did he hurt you? Did they touch you?" Lance's voice slowly raised in pitch in volume, a slight growl rumbling in his throat behind his words.

Hunk shook his head quickly. "No, they didn't lay a finger on me. They did nothing to me, I swear Lance." Pure honesty was in Hunk’s expression. And pain filled the void the retreating anger left behind.

"Then why are you acting like this towards me?" Lance said. Hunk looked away, and a terrible thought came to mind. "Are you ashamed of me?"

Lance had tried to sound accusing and angry, but all that came out was broken and meek.

Hunk shook his head no again, harsh and sharp.

"I'm ashamed of myself Lance." Hunk said, moments before Lance could speak again. He didn't answer, just letting Hunk get what he needs to say off his chest.

Hunk took a moment to steady himself, a deep breath shaky even to Lance's ears. "I heard," was all he said. It took a minute or two for Lance to get the hint that he was supposed to know what that meant. Problem was, he had no clue what that meant.

"Heard what?" Lance said. He desperately wanted to reach out and touch Hunk, just a hand on the shoulder would be fine. He's been so starved of touch before he met Voltron, not trusting those he shared a ship with enough to allow it. Hunk was always hugging Lance though, so he became dependent.

He needed a gentle touch every now and then.

"Heard what?" Lance asked again instead, his fingers twitching in his lap. Hunk took another shuddering breath.

"I heard everything Lance." Hunk said, turning to look Lance in the eyes again. Pain and anger in his eyes, as well as unshed tears. "Everything they did to you, I heard it." Lance let that sink in, wondering why it would cause such problems with Hunk.

Yeah, Lance was tortured. Yeah, he was vocal at points. But why would that cause such reactions in Hunk?

Unless-

"How much did you hear?" Lance asked slowly.

Hunk shook his head again, curling himself to make a giant Hunk ball. Despite the guy's size, he seemed pretty small in that moment. When he spoke again, it wasn't to answer the question.

"The others, Pidge and Keith and the rest of them. They only heard Keith's side of the story. Not mine. Not yours." Hunk said. Lance hesitated, but slowly lifted a hand to Hunk’s shoulder. The contact practically made Hunk melt out of the ball he had formed himself into.

They scooted closer, only an inch, but enough to allow their legs to touch. And Lance waited. Eventually Hunk got the hint and kept talking.

"My cell was right down the hall from where they kept you. I heard everything they did to you. I heard your screams, and taunts and sobs. I heard the men and the whip and the laughter." Hunk gasped in a breath. "And I heard when they changed tactics against you. It was when whatever they drugged you with broke you. Because I know you were drugged, or you wouldn't have said the things you did."

"Hunk-" Lance said, a small swell of panic rising. He didn't want to talk any more, but Hunk wasn't listening.

"I sort of blacked out. Went on a rampage, but watched myself do it all. Ripping my cuffs to shreds. Taking down the guards when they investigated all the noise. Stealing a large set of armor to fit over my own. Finding Keith's cell and body slamming his guard. Breaking him free." Hunk said in a rush. His words were getting faster and more blurred together. So much so that Lance had make that click to change to enhanced vision and hearing.

"It's like watching a screen engulfed in water. Blurred, and wobbly. Hard to understand. And my chest- Oh my god- my chest. It was burning, like I was melting inside out." Hunk pressed a hand to his chest and Lance knew what he meant. Almost instinctively.

"I couldn't breath, and I couldn't think. I had never felt such things in my life. And it didn't leave until we had you in the pod. It was awful." Hunk finished, his voice dropping to a whisper.

Lance took pity on both of them and leaned into Hunk’s side. "It's called anger. That's what pure anger feels like. When it's so bad that your chest burns and it's like someone is yanking the air out of your chest." Hunk shuddered.

"I never want to feel like that again." Hunk said. Lance hummed his reply, and they sat in quiet some more. As if breaking the silence was forbidden.

Hunk broke it anyways. "I'm ashamed of myself for not getting you back sooner, for just abandoning you to fend for yourself against Shemale."

Lance stopped short. Shemale? "Who the hell is Shemale?" Lance asked, shocked at the name. He knows no one on that awful ship who called themselves Shemale. Hunk barked out a short, hoarse laugh.

"That's what Keith and I called the Commander. We couldn't decide if they were male or female. Keith is adamant they were female, but I'm partial to male. We've been meaning to ask you, even have a bet on it."

Lance snorted as he shook his head slowly. He could see it, honestly. Pagg was not the handsomest of aliens.

"Male." Lance said. "Definitely male." He heard Hunk mutter under his breath that Keith owed him a thousand Gak. Which was funny, since literally no one but Coran and Allura actually have any Gak. Lance had some, but he hasn't needed to use his stash yet.

Of course when Pidge and him went Gak fishing in the fountain at the mall, that was just for fun. And Pidge wouldn't take his money anyways. They let the mood sink back into a serious air.

"You don't have to talk to me about it. There are plenty of people on this ship if I'm not the one you want to talk to." Hunk said, his voice soft. Lance went to interrupt but Hunk just kept talking.

"Talk to Shiro, he's been in similar situations. Or Pidge, she'll throw logic at you until you understand that whatever is bothering you is not true or your fault or whatever it is." Hunk said, a small smile curling on his lips. Lance snorted in response.

"She would wouldn't she?" Lance said fondly.

"Or Allura. Despite being," Hunk paused to find the right words, before saying slowly. "Rough around the edges, she's really kind and empathetic. It's how she saved the Balmera."

Lance pouted. "You guys still haven't told me what you did. I mean come on. I've seen the details of it's condition, saving it should have been impossible with a thousand years to do it let alone one day." Hunk only laughed, his large body trembling under the force, shaking Lance a little where he leaned.

"Maybe later." Hunk said. Like he always did. They all found it funny how pretty much all of the Galra believe it was Lance to save a Balmera. Given Lance still had a price on his head for it, he didn't find it funny. To be fair, without the tracker in his eye, they have been able to lay low and try to fix the ship.

"You could talk to Keith. Believe it or not, he understands emotions quite well." Hunk said. Lance scoffed and sat up to look at Hunk with a deadpan expression.

"Keith." Lance said, obviously disbelieving.

Hunk only smirked, seeming much more like himself, even if he still wouldn't look him in the eyes. "Think about it." That was all Hunk said. And Lance did think about it.

It made sense. Keith was always putting himself as a punching bag for Lance's frustration, and keeping Pidge company at night sometimes. When Lance didn't get her in bed at least. Which wasn't often but still.

Ever since Lance found out about her insomniac ways, he's gotten pretty good at convincing her to go to sleep. Usually she only went when Lance sung to her. It was their little thing, the singing. It was the only way her thoughts could quiet enough to sleep.

The first time Shiro saw him carrying her to bed, he had called Lance a witch. That was an entertaining night. Usually she'll go happily to bed when Lance offered to sing, but when she didn't, he sung to her anyways. Bit by bit she would fall slowly to sleep. It was only after the third time when Lance learned the moment she would drop her head on her keyboard, so that he could move it out of the way.

But Keith was always there when he or Hunk weren't. Shiro's pacing the halls, countered with Keith's offer to spar. Allura’s snapping, countered with Keith's steady voice when they were in tense situations.

"Oh my god." Lance breathed. Hunk nodded in smugness. "You're absolutely right." The thought blew his mind. Hot head Keith was actually good with emotions, or other people's anyways. He wasn't good with human interaction and his own emotions, but other people's he was great.

"And if not Keith, go to Coran. He's older and wiser, and will probably be a great listener for you." Hunk paused and scoffed. "Besides, we all know he has the hugest soft spot for you."

Lance chuckled, not denying it. They were pretty close for knowing each other only a short time. But still, Lance couldn't talk about it, it hurt too much. He told Hunk as much.

"I can't relive the memory Hunk. It's too painful." Then Lance said something that was bothering him quite a bit. "Shiro's lucky not to remember what the Galra put him through. He has time to accept it before he knows, I see it all in my dreams. Every time I close my eyes, or see my own body, or even breath. It haunts me." He felt guilty saying Shiro was lucky, because he really wasn't, but that didn't mean Lance felt any different.

"I think that's something you should talk to him about, but if you don't talk to anyone it will kill you slowly." Hunk said, deadly serious.

He wanted to say something awful, like Good riddance, but that was just his trauma talking. He shook his head, leaning against Hunk again. He felt so tired, felt like he was sinking to the bottom of Earth's oceans and unable to swim to freedom.

"I can't." He said again. Hunk sort of blew up at him after that, raising his voice into a yell.

"You have to talk to someone! The team, a recorder, Blue. Hell just talk to a wall if you must! You can't keep bottling things up in your chest. Because they will explode when packed too tightly." Hunk finished, standing up and pacing away from Lance. He turned back to Lance before he stormed out of the room.

"And when it happens, the ones affected will be your friends. I can't promise the damage to be repairable either." Hunk locked eyes with Lance. They stared at each other a moment before Hunk sighed and went to open the door.

He didn't look back when he spoke next, his voice nearly a whisper. "I'm going to get changed. Meet you at dinner. If you decide to show up at least." Lance watched how his shoulders hunched inwards, his view cut off by the closing of the training room door. When the silence settled over him, he just curled into himself and closed his eyes.

He couldn't talk about it. Not yet.

*****

(First)(Previous)(Next) (AO3)

#voltron #voltron au #voltron fic #lance mcclain #keith kogane #shiro #takashi shirogane #katie holt #pidge gunderson #hunk garrett #matt holt #allura #coran #resistance!lance #champion!lance #bamf!lance #tortured!lance #no ship fic #zarkon #haggar #voltron lions

[starwrite-er]

Poster Boy [Chapter 21] - Poe Dameron x Reader

A/N: so like... this fic is maybe kinda diverging from how they located Lor San Tekka in the comics since they’re ongoing and like the entire process of finding him hasnt yet been revealed? I’ll sort out the timeline further when I start working on the companion fic.

Tag List: @firefeatherx @plethora-of-things @britishteahater @umbrellabrass @purple-skeleton @winchesterandpie @the-creative-lie @i-alrightokaycool @definitely-nota-fangirl @purelittleblueberry @gemmielii

Two missions had been followed through in relation to the search for the ‘Jedi-sympathiser’. While they worked to narrow the potential area, they turned up little. The third team had left a few days ago, and was due to return today. Any news they brought with them would be welcome.

It had been nearly two weeks since the wedding between Hyadum and Jenn. Nearly two weeks since the incident with Poe. What happened was in the spur of the moment and impulsive.

Unsurprisingly, the traits shared with the occurrence are so very in our nature.

The issue was that the kiss didn’t solve anything. Poe and I live dangerous lives. The stakes are always high. Acknowledging the feelings we have is one thing, but actually acting on those feelings? The risks that came with such attachment are too much for even us.

If what we felt was true, then trying to avoid the obvious would cause trouble, yet still we left behind our habits. No more kisses on cheeks, no more hand holding. I started subconsciously avoiding him. Truth be told, it wasn’t helping. Instead, it left me with a feeling of hollow confusion.

I sigh as I sit on the duracrete of the hangar, choosing to take a break from working on my X-Wing. Noticing my mood, BB-09 bumps into my leg, beeping encouragements.

“Y/N, there you are!” I turn to see Karé Kun calling to me, Jess beside her. “You’re wanted in the Command Centre.”

“What’s happening?” I ask, standing up. I was close with Jess, but didn’t really interact with Karé as much.

“The Jakku scouting mission just got back,” Jess tells me as I catch up with the pair and we begin to head off. My astromech, rolling alongside us, gives a series of beeps and chirps direct at Jess, who shoot a look at the droid. “Yeah, they’ve got news, ‘09 - and will you ever stop calling me ‘The Great Destroyer’?” BB-09 responds with a whir of dissent.

Inside the Command Centre, there is already a number of people gathered. I take my place standing around the central table, across from Poe. Our gazes meet, but we just nod in acknowledgement of each other.

“I believe that’s everyone,” General Organa speaks up, eyes scanning over those in the room. Huh, it’s not that many. “In that case, let’s begin.”

“As you all probably know, myself, Kat, and Teditt just returned from a reconnaissance mission. We were scouting Jakku, and what we found has lead us to believe we may have found the individual with the map to Skywalker,” Curint announces. “We were surveying the Kelvin Ravine when we stopped in a small village to replenish our water supplies. The colony was called Tuanul, a settlement populated by members of the Church of the Force.”

“Were you able to identify the one in possession of the map?” General Organa questions, seeming to already know the answer.

“A human man recognised us as being members of the Resistance. He said his name was Lor San Tekka.” Kat tells her. The General nods.

“That’s who we’re looking for,” She says before addressing Poe. “Poe, I believe it’s time for you to reveal the details of the classified missions I sent you on.”

The Commander nods slowly as he begins. “The General already was suspicious that the First Order was looking for Lor San Tekka, the one with the map, after a mission where intel was pulled from the ship Hevurion Grace. After the obtainment of this information followed a number of classified missions,” From across the table, Poe gives me a look, one almost guilty. “Missions carried out by the Black Squadron. A while back, we went to the planet Ovanis. The mission was rough, but the Crèche people told me where they believed Lor San Tekka went. We followed the information up, taking us to the prison planet Megalox Beta.”

“The Crèche told me Grakkus the Hutt was the guy our man Lor visited next. The Black Squadron broke him out, and he gave us a list of locations. I went with C-3PO and Oddy Muva to Kaddak, but the First Order official Tarak ambushed us. That was the mission that L’ulo died on. Oddy went missing, and when we found him, he also died fighting the First Order,” Poe pauses, swallowing thickly. These were close friends he’d lost. “C-3PO had been monitoring the list Grakkus gave us, and lead to one of our most recent missions, taking us to Cato Neimoidia. Alongside the General, we found Lor San Tekka and busted him out of holding.”

“He made passage to Jakku, which is why our most recently issued mission was reconnaissance on said planet.” General Organa finishes. It’s quiet in the Command Centre as everyone process the information. I pinch the bridge of my nose, squeezing my eyes closed for a moment, mulling over everything I didn’t know.

“Wait, so... how does the work the rest of us were doing fit in?” I question, gesturing to the others around the table.

“Every mission counts in helping us gain the advantage over the First Order.” The General answers. She looks me in the eye, and I realise there is more she wants to say but she can’t do here. She’s an intuitive woman, she knows what it is I want to know, and I want to know the purpose of the missions I had been sent on.

“What’s the plan now?” Snap asks, leaning on the table, watching our General intently.

“Commander Dameron will leave for Tuanal on Jakku in a week. He will be the one to retrieve the map,” General Organa announces. I almost laugh, and Poe’s gaze flickers over to me, catching the ghost of a smile on my face. Just a few weeks ago, didn’t I say he would be the one chosen for this mission? “Those directly involved in this coming retrieval will be briefed in the coming days. Unless anyone has anything else to say, you’re dismissed.”

There’s a ripple of murmurs about the mission, but quickly enough the majority of those gathered begin to filter out of the Command Centre, myself amongst them, not necessarily keen on sticking around at the given moment. I’m a fair way down the corridor when someone calls my name.

“Y/N, wait!” It’s Poe. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” I reply shortly. Poe takes a moment, looking for the words.

“Stars, where do we even start?” He mutters, running a hand through his hair. Now that the nature of his missions has been revealed, I’m seeing everything he does in a new light, and I’m beginning to look past the front he put up to hide his stress.

“That’s up to you, flyboy.” I say, arms crossed. Poe seems taken slightly aback by my tone. Truth be told, I’m not entire sure why I feel so riled up by it all, but I figure it’s due to the reveal of these classified missions and the, ah, unfinished business between us.

“Is this about the missions? Y/N, listen, I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about them. I trust you, and I’m sorry if I hurt you-“ Poe starts apologising to me.

“You know what, Poe?” I cut him off. “I am. I am hurt. I’m hurt that you didn’t tell me, but I will not have you apologise for it. The details of those missions were classified, even to your team members. You were just doing your job, helping the Resistance, and I have no actual reason to be upset or angry. Don’t apologise - you have no reason to.”

There’s a momentary pause. I sigh, and continue, my tone now much softer. “I- I thought I knew you better. I thought I would have noticed the stress you were under, and I feel bad because I didn’t. I was so absorbed in my own world that I completely missed it. I’m honestly not bothered by you keeping the missions away from me - I understand that telling me would have just added to everything else you were dealing with - but you can talk to me, y’know? You don’t have to tell me exactly what’s going on, but you can talk to me.”

Poe stares at me for a moment before pulling me into a tight hug. I’m quick to return the embrace as he buries his head into the juncture between my neck and my shoulder.

“You were my first choice of pilot to come with me to Kaddak, you know. Even if you aren’t in the Black Squadron,” Poe mumbles. “I couldn’t risk you like that, though. The mission was sensitive enough already.”

“Poe, when Terex ambushed you on the way back to base, stars, they didn’t even tell me. I was off-world when L’ulo died,” I tell him, guilty that I wasn’t there to give the veteran pilot a send off. “You could have died, too, and I’m only just finding out about this mission.”

“I had BB-8 send a message back to base in case I died, but there was no way I actually would have,” Poe says. I pull back from the embrace and give him what must be an almost horrified look, since he immediately looks sheepish as he realises I didn’t know about BB-8’s message. “I have too much I still need to do before I die, and I promised myself I’d tell you everything.”

“And is that everything?” I ask him. He hesitates, and I sigh.

“No. No, it’s not everything, but it’s most of it, I swear,” Poe tells me, looking me in the eye. “But we do need to talk about one more thing. The other day, we-“

“Yeah, I know. I know,” I sigh, rubbing my face. “Poe, listen, I don’t regret kissing you, but I don’t know if this is the best idea.”

“What do you mean?” Poe asks slowly, cautiously, his hands on my shoulders as he searches my face.

“I mean, you’d just gotten back from what I assume was a dangerous mission, and we’d just attended a wedding. How- how do we know we weren’t just riding the aftermath of that?” I say, grasping for straws. I try not to focus on the hurt in his eyes, but it’s hard when I’m also hurting myself. “And even if we weren’t, is it really worth the distraction? When we’re out there flying and fighting together, it’s not only unfair on everyone, ourselves included, if we start paying too much attention to each other, but it’s also dangerous.”

“Karé broke up with Snap for the same reason,” Poe says, almost quietly. “If anything, that made it worse for them.”

“I know, I just...” I falter in my words. “I don’t know if I can do it, and I’m sorry. You deserve better than this situation.”

Poe nods slowly, processing, acknowledging what I’ve had to say. He drops his hands and straightens up. He steels his expression, and I hate this ficconversation.

“Don’t worry about it. You don’t need to apologise,” He flashes me a brief smile, a quick attempt to reassure me. “I’ll see you around base, okay?”

As I watch him go, every step he takes I find myself loathing what I’ve said even more.

#my work #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars tfa #the force awakens #reader insert #fic: poster boy

[stillthewordgirl]

LOT/CC fic: Time & Tide, Ch. 2 (”Come and Turn the Tide”)

In 1985, a Time Master grabs young Lisa Snart for the Refuge…but there’s no way she’s going anywhere without her brother.

And years later, when Miranda and Jonas die and the Time Council refuses to do anything, Rip Hunter turns to his oldest friend…

(Based on what was originally meant to be a throwaway line in “Secret Santa.” There will be CaptainCanary. Because it’s me.)

Can also be read here at AO3 and here at FF.net. (As can Chapter 1 and the prologue.) Many thanks to @larielromeniel!

What you gonna do when things go wrong? What you gonna do when it all cracks up? What you gonna do when the love burns down? What you gonna do when the flames go up?

(Simple Minds, "Alive and Kicking," 1985)

"You know this is a bad idea." Lisa's voice isn't disapproving. She knows better. Instead, it's resigned. And that's a tone she's become very used to taking with her older brother over the years.

"It's Miranda and Jonas, Lis." Len watches her intently through the viewscreen on his ship. He'd rather see her in person, but the Solace is actually keeping an eye on an untimely outbreak of typhoid fever in 2022. "You know them. You helped deliver Jonas! I can't let Rip deal with this on his own."

"Yes, but…" The professional time ship captain nibbles her lip like the little girl he remembers, then sighs. "This is why we're not supposed to have attachments," she tells him with resignation. "You know that."

"I think the Time Council would be better if they did." Len holds up his hands when she starts to retort. "Yeah, yeah, I know." It's an old argument. "But I'm helping. I'll do my best to keep my nose clean. Clean-ish. I just wanted to update you."

That gets him a smile. "Thank you," Lisa tells him. "Now…don't tell me more. What I don't know, I can't tell."

She might act like she's a rule-follower, these days, but that's the sister he remembers. Len grins.

"That's it," he tells her, leaning back in his chair, "be a rebel. Fight the evil Empire."

Lisa smiles again, but the expression is a little torn, and Len's already regretting his quip. When she starts to speak again, there's something sad and regretful in her tone.

"Len," she says, using his real name, which she rarely does, "someone needs to protect time. And they saved us."

Yeah, to do their bidding and their dirty work, he thinks. But all he says is, "I'll be careful."

They both know he probably won't.

He keeps his stop at the Refuge brief. Mary is enigmatic as always, but Len continues to think she knows more than she's letting on, both about Rip's quest and the Time Council's decision to ignore Vandal Savage's actions. Still, she's one of the very few people he trusts. He gives her a few new time-travel books he's found; they chat about the newest children added to her flock.

When he leaves, she doesn't ask where he's going.

"Welcome back onboard, Captain Tyler. It is good to see you."

"Good to hear you, Gideon." Len pauses in the bigger ship's hatch. He always considers it only polite to interact with the AIs, and Gideon has quite the personality. They get each other. "How's he doing?"

A pause. "As well as can be expected," the AI finally says, quietly. "This…plan, it is letting him maintain hope. I'm not quite sure of the wisdom of it, but there is that."

"Hope's a powerful thing," Len acknowledges.

"Indeed."

The much smaller Falcon is parked next to the Waverider in this deserted lot in Central City, both ships cloaked and waiting. Len knows that Rip issued his invitation to eight people, all from this time, presumably chosen from the dossiers he'd assembled, but the other man has done some of his own research, too. There could be additions.

"Ah! There you are." Rip is striding down the hall, and the energy about the man convinces Len that Gideon is precisely correct in her assessment. He's using the hope of this gambit to keep himself going. "They should be here soon. If they're coming, but I think they will." He nods at Len. "You were right…"

"There are those words again."

Rip ignores him. "… I think it was the correct call to tell them the true nature of the mission. None of them liked the notion that time would forget them."

"Not surprised. These hero-y types generally…"

"Captain Hunter, Captain Tyler," Gideon cuts in, "there is a group of eight people outside. They're rather obviously wondering if they're in the right place. It's time."

Eight. So all of them had agreed to come. The two men exchange a glance, then start for the hatch.

Once they're there, Rip waits more or less patiently for it to open, but Len leans out just a little, still concealed by the Waverider's cloak, and studies them. The inventor, the hawks, the…

"Aaahh," he breathes, watching. "You did invite the assassin. And she agreed."

"Of course. You recommended her mostly highly…" Rip cuts his gaze to his friend, then sighs. "Oh lord," he mutters. "This is part of your…fetish...for dangerous people, isn't it?"

"No. Yes…maybe." He tilts his head to consider the group. "Wait. Who's the…"

But Rip's heading down now, lifting his voice to greet the people he's promised to make legends, and Len's left standing in the ship. He's pretty sure the Waverider's captain means him to stay and watch, rather than putting himself out there and confusing the matter.

He shrugs, and follows anyway.

"…you imagine what a time ship would look like in, say, Victorian England?" he hears Rip explain, just as he uncloaks the Waverider. "Holographic indigenous camouflage protection."

"Just call it a cloak, Rip. Makes more sense and is a lot less bombastic." Len stops just behind him, eyeing the group with interest. "Well, isn't this an interesting lot."

He hears Rip sigh, but the other man doesn't even bother scolding.

"Stop looking at my crew like you're trying to decide who to seduce," he mutters, under his breath.

"Nah, I figured I'd just seduce all of 'em." Len tilts his head, trying to see if any of the group heard them. From their expressions, probably not. "Introduce me?"

Rip pinches his nose, but sighs and accedes.

"Ladies and gentleman, Time Master Captain Jack Tyler," he says with resignation, raising his voice and waving a hand. "A friend of mine."

"I thought you said they wouldn't help you." The assassin is staring at him. He grins at her. She rolls her eyes.

Rip catches the byplay and rolls his eyes too. "He's..."

"He's not they," Len interrupts. "I might sortof work for them, but I don't like the Time Council much. And the feeling's mutual." He shrugs. "Can't be here for everything, but I'll help when I can."

Another in the group—the inventor—opens his mouth to comment or ask a question, but Rip's already herding them toward the ship, and they go willingly enough. Well, Len can't blame them. He still remembers the first time he saw a time ship. (Granted, it'd been memorable, in part due to the abduction and nearly freezing-to-death part of it.)

He waits for the others to proceed onboard—lifting an eyebrow at how the professor has to get help with the unconscious kid-and then follows, smirking as he realizes that he's only a few paces behind the assassin. Sara Lance, he should use her name. He admires the view for a few moments, then catches up to walk beside her.

"Even if you're a broad-minded individual, this is a lot to take in," he drawls. "How are you doing?"

Suspicious blue eyes glance at him. She doesn't stop walking. "Why are you asking me?"

"You seem to be the only person on this boat who doesn't…" He pauses, choosing his words with a little more care than he'd originally planned. "…have powers or a dozen doctorate degrees."

Sara snorts, pausing to watch him. "Actually, I was dead for a year."

He knows that, actually—and it doesn't really contradict his observation. "Hey, I'm just trying to make conversation."

"Yeah, I can tell by the way you're staring at my ass." But there's a faint flash of humor in her eyes as she turns away-and granted, he had been staring at her ass. Len grins as he follows her, enjoying the view, but enjoying the banter even more.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

When they've all filtered onto the bridge area, though, he wanders away, needing to study the others in this so-called team they've created. The inventor is wide eyed, as is the professor. The kid is still unconscious, deposited in a jump seat, and, oh, there's certainly a story there. The hawks are inspecting the ship, too, and Len studies them, intrigued at this chance to see two of the characters in the nearly 4,000-year-old story he's been researching.

"Tyler, hmmm?"

At the amused voice, he turns, finally face to face with one of the few people he hadn't recommended for this team—someone he knows nothing about.

The third woman in the group is probably more striking than the other two, in purely aesthetic terms, a tall redhead with velvety, shrewd brown eyes and a lovely complexion that's a good bit darker than most redheads he's known. She's older, too, probably around his own chronological age, and damn if it doesn't look fine on her.

She's gorgeous, actually, and she exudes confidence, something that's usually an attraction for him. But Len dislikes her on sight, a feeling he doesn't even have a name for running down his spine, distrust and an odd recognition, and he has to force himself to give her a cool smile.

"Alexa Azeri," she says, smiling back at him, something just a touch predatory in that smile. "I'm a…shall we say, I'm an acquisitions expert."

Len nods to her, murmuring something vague. So, this is the criminal element that Rip had mentioned being uncertain of.

"And you?" he asks, looking at the big, scarred man next to Alexa, a man who hasn't uttered a word, the only other person here he knows nothing of. There's a weird pull there, too. Not an attraction—bruisers aren't his type—but a feeling like he should recognize the other man.

"He's just hired muscle," the woman interrupts, putting a hand on Len's arm. "My…bodyguard."

Len can't handle the familiarity. Or the attitude. He pointedly pulls his arm away and continues to focus on the big man.

"And you?" he asks the…bodyguard…again, pointedly.

The guy blinks, then glances at Alexa, whose face is now carefully blank. Then he looks back at Len.

"Mick," he says shortly, his voice a gravelly rumble. "Mick Rory. I…like she said. Bodyguard."

Len accepts it…for now. "Pleased to meet you, Mick," he says, pleasantly, ignoring Alexa's attempt to talk to him again as he turns away.

It's probably a mistake. But he hasn't survived this long as a Time Master by ignoring his instincts. And those instincts are screaming at him to stay the hell away from Alexa Azeri.

Rip's been holding forth, as he tends to do, and introducing most of the team to Gideon. Now, he's explaining how Savage's movements have been hidden in time, and detailing their first destination. Len, listening, nods at the mention of St. Roch.

"I'll meet you there," he cuts in as his friend pauses. "I need to check…stuff. I'll put the ship down near wherever I detect the Waverider."

"You have another ship?" the professor queries, interest in his tone. "Like this one?"

Well, Len can never resist a chance to brag about his ship. Not matter how much Rip laughs at him about it.

"Yes," he says, just a tad proudly as the other Time Master rolls his eyes, then decides to make a small verbal jab. "Well, faster. Smaller. Sleeker. Name's The Falcon."

"Falcon?" The inventor, Ray Palmer, perks up. "You mean like…?"

Len points at him. "Someone on this ship with some culture! Yes, just like." He looks pointedly at Rip. "See. Some people get it."

His friend gives him a weary look. "Are you quite done?"

"For now."

It's not that he doesn't trust Rip. He does, with his very life. But sometimes the man just doesn't…think.

(He conveniently ignores any number of ironies in that thought.)

It doesn't take long for Gabby to pull up information on both Alexa Azeri and Mick (Michael, actually) Rory. Len leans back and drums his fingers on the console, reading.

Aside from the very basics of family and origin, all of it unremarkable, almost all the information about the former involves her line of work. Alexa doesn't seem to have a set base of operations, although she's been associated with jobs in both Central and Star cities. Jewels seem to be her favorite, but technology is a very strong second. Her MO is all over the place, too…classic scams and cons, heists that rely on teamwork and skill, even the odd smash and grab.

One thing there's a steady string of, though, are fall guys, and girls. Oh, she has a rap sheet, an extensive one, and she's done time in fine institutions from juvenile hall right up to Iron Heights. But almost every time, there's someone else involved, someone on whom Alexa has promptly given evidence—in return for other considerations, of course. And at least a few times, her partners have wound up with a bad case of dead as she made off with the loot.

You'd think she'd have a hard time finding partners, after all this, but it seems there's always someone in line to buy her story, and promises of an easy payoff—and the assurance that she sees something in them, for whatever reason.

A user. He knows the type.

Lewis' face rises in his conscious memory for the first time in ages, and Len shakes his head roughly, willing the image away. His father is long since dead, having mouthed off to the wrong boss in Iron Heights after yet another heist gone wrong, and neither Len nor Lisa mourned him when they found out.

Oh, yes, he'll keep an eye on Alexa Azeri. If only because she brings up some bad memories.

Mick Rory is from Central City, and only a few years older than his own chronological age. Len sits forward, reading the file with interest. The few notes on speculated abuse raise the hairs on the backs of his arms—too many reminders of the past, too quickly—but he continues, taking in the tale of arson and juvie and all sorts of potential gone, the descent from petty theft into robbery and murder.

Because what else was there left, in a world that couldn't forgive a scared kid for one horrible, irreversible mistake?

Could have been him. Could have been him, so easily.

And if he's not wrong, reading between all these lines, Rory has a bit of a death wish, so much so that he's not sure how the man has stayed alive all these years.

There doesn't seem to be much connection to Azeri there, but Len's practiced eye notes a few instances where they've been in roughly the same place at the same time. Not long-time partners or anything like that. Perhaps it is as the woman says…he's hired muscle.

He's pretty sure it's not that simple.

Or innocent…at last on Azeri's part.

By the time he does this, follows the Waverider to 1975 St. Roch, and saunters back onto the bigger ship, the newbies have worked through their assorted issues with time-travel effects and are more or less sorted. The kid, Jefferson "call me Jax" Jackson, is awake and not happy with his Firestorm counterpart, and while Len can't really blame him, he knows they needed both halves of the superhero for the greatest effect.

He's not going to say that, though.

There's more friction between Rip and the team, too.

"You're benching us?

"This mission doesn't require your particular skill set."

"Meanin' you don't need anyone killed, maimed or robbed," Rory rumbles, then glances at Alexa as if worried she'll be annoyed he's speaking out of turn.

But the woman is focusing more on Len, now that she's noticed she's back on board, and he's just not sure he has it in him to be charming. He sidles, instead, toward Sara, who looks faintly amused.

"Sure it's a good idea to leave these two unsurprised on a time machine?" questions the inventor, Palmer, just a touch too loudly.

"Hey, haircut. Deafness wasn't one of the side effects," the big man rumbles, but he does it under his breath, and Len snorts in amusement. The other man glances at him, the corner of his mouth quirking up just a little. There's a moment, just a flicker, of connection.

Then Alexa's at Rory's side, whispering something in his ear, and the man's face goes blank again. Len fights back a moment of rage (he doesn't know what's being said, and his imagination might be overly active given what he's read of them), but before he can say anything, Rip's grabbing the sleeve of his jacket and dragging him over to a corner of the bridge, looking harried.

Granted, that's pretty normal for Rip.

"You'll stay?" his friend hisses, eyes pleading in a way that belies the almost aggressive tone of the words. "While we head for the university?"

Len blinks at him. "You mean, will I babysit them? Me? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No, actually, but…" The other man sighs. "You're going to say you told me so."

"I told you so. OK, now it's done with." He narrows his eyes. "What are you regretting already?"

"Ms. Azeri and her compatriot. I…" Rip sighs again as Len smirks at him. "OK, yes, yes, I should have stuck with your recommendations. But none of them with this…skill set…were as easily findable, and…"

Something about that seems off, but Len lets it go. "What about them? It's not like Gideon's going to let her get away with anything."

"I know." Rip eyes him. "Just see if you can find out a little more about them. And not just her. I didn't want the other man—Mr. Rory—on board at all, but she insisted she needed to bring 'muscle' and, frankly, the team could use that too. But I haven't been well pleased with what I've been able to learn."

Len shrugs, although he has every intention of learning more about them too. "Give the guy a break," he tells his friend. "Gotta feeling."

"The arsonist?" Rip blinks at him. "Are you serious?"

Len claps him on the shoulder as they turn back to the others. "Brother, we both entered the Refuge as petty thieves. Arson's the least of what we could have gotten up to if things had been different." He lowers his voice. "I'm more concerned about her."

Rip starts to retort, but then stops as Alexa moves toward them, interest sparking in her eyes at their quiet conversation.

"I'm more than happy to stay behind on this fascinating ship," she purrs, eyeing them both. "Could I, perhaps, get a tour? I'd really like to learn more...about your ship, too..."

Now she's looking right at Len—his brush-off from earlier apparently not having registered. He stares back at her, nonplussed, even as he senses Rip making a rapid escape with the hawks, Professor Stein and Palmer.

He's always erred on the side of charming everyone and letting things sort themselves out later, but apparently bluntness is the order of the day.

"Not interested in what you're selling," he tells her flatly, folding his arms, eyes cold. "You ain't my type."

Startled for just a moment, the redhead raises her eyebrows. Then she glances over at Rory and smiles before glancing back at him.

"Ah," she says knowingly. "You like men."

"Some men," Len agrees. "Some women. Not you. So, stop wasting your time and maybe we can manage a decent working dynamic."

Her eyes widen at his bluntness, a flash of something that might almost be hurt in them before they narrow again.

"Got it," she snaps back. "You don't know what you're missing. And you just might regret it at some point."

Len lets her have her comeback, watching as she turns on her heel and heads off. Then he sighs, leaning back against the wall and watching the kid—Jax—and Rory mess around with the viewscreen. (Although Rory's clearly wondering if he should follow his...whatever...)

"Think you might have irritated her."

He glances to the side, sees that Sara has wandered over to lean against the wall next to him. Her gaze is considering, and he bites back innuendo. Not the time. Unfortunately.

"You saw that, huh?" Len says instead, turning toward her a little. "Yeah, probably. But I don't like it when people treat other people like property," he says shortly, meeting her eyes. "I just…don't."

(The kids at the marketplace were screaming, crying, and he was supposed to just turn and walk back to his ship, leave the timeline as it was meant to be, ignore the cries...)

He ruthlessly pushes the memory of that mission back down again. There's a flash of understanding in Sara's eyes, though, and she merely nods, watching the other woman, who's moved to inspect the captain's console. After a moment, she sighs ruefully, muttering quietly, "I don't like this."

"Hmm?"

The gaze she darts at him has a hint of humor. "Oh, you know. The old trope that when there's more than one woman in a group, they always get all catty with each other and fight instead of backing each other up. I hate that. And she's gorgeous, so I sort of wish I felt differently, but…"

"Ah." Len considers. "Well, she's tripping every alarm bell I have, too. I don't know why." He shrugs it off, and grins at her. "If it makes you feel better, fight the trope. Make friends with bird girl."

Sara snorts, but nods. "I plan to. Although her boyfriend's an ass."

"He kinda is, isn't he?" He can't help but lean toward her, draw to her as much as…more than…he's repulsed by Alexa. "I've been looking into the whole Savage thing and everything else for Rip since…well…and not every incarnation's that bad. It seems to depend on…"

But Sara's eyes are considering again. Maybe a little wary. "So, you know all our backgrounds?"

Len considers prevarication, then goes with honesty. "Yeah. I recommended most of you." He tilts his head and gives her a look through his lashes, attempting to distract her. "Especially you. You're badass."

His admiring tone gets a smirk, quickly concealed. "And you're a flirt," she counters, watching him. "But…most of us?"

"Aaaaand you pay attention," he adds, not missing a beat. "I like that too." He sighs as she levels a glare at him. "I'm not sure where Rip got the idea for Redheaded Trouble over there, but not from me."

"And the 'hired muscle?'"

Something in her tone says she's sensed something off there, too. "I don't know him either." Len makes a quick decision. "But Rip wants me to find out more. And I don't get a good vibe out of whatever she's got on him."

"Hmmmm. And what do you have in mind?" Sara whispers back. But even as she asks the question, though, Len sees a flicker in her eyes, and leans forward, intrigued.

"What are you thinking?" he asks in a low tone.

She tells him. And Len leans back and stares at her.

"I like you," he tells her, utterly seriously. "I mean, I really like you."

Sara's lips twitch again. "I can't imagine Captain Hunter will be very happy about it."

"Well, Rip's not here." He smirks. "And I am. I say we do it. Gideon?"

The AI's tone is low and localized to the corner they're standing in, making Sara startle, just a tiny bit. "Yes, Captain Tyler?"

"Rip's got all his protocols with you locked down tight, right?"

"Of course. But I don't know that this is a good idea. Captain Hunter would probably not approve."

Eavesdropper, he mouths to Sara, then speaks aloud again. "As I said, Rip's not here. I am. We are." He nods to Sara, winking, and starts sauntering into the room, hands behind his back, thoroughly ignoring her, or appearing to.

After a few moments, he hears Sara speak.

"Am I the only one who could really use a drink?" she says, raising her voice just a little and sounding the perfect mix of bored and slightly exasperated.

Len hesitates a bare second, then spins on his heel theatrically and grins at her.

"Ex-cellent idea."

Who is gonna come and turn the tide? What's it gonna take to make a dream survive? Who's got the touch to calm the storm inside? Who's gonna save you?

#time & tide #leonard snart #legends of tomorrow #snart siblings #captain canary

[lalainajanes]

Based on those posts about Therapy Humans that float around. IDEK guys this is not my genre.

Star Crossed World

A persistent beeping fills Klaus’ tiny berth, bouncing around the metal walls. Echoing, growing louder, snapping Klaus out of the first stretch of decent sleep he's managed to get in weeks.

The words that spill from his lips, unintelligible and thick with exhaustion, are not appropriate for company.

Luckily, Klaus has none.

He scrubs a hand over his face, absently wonders when the last time he shaved was. Grooming rather fell to the wayside when you’re only company was a disembodied voice.

The A.I. had come with the ship, an unfailingly cheerful presence that had introduced itself as Josh. Klaus had grown up with various AI’s – his mother preferred them to human servants who tended to be noisy and have an excessive amount of opinions – but they’d always been carefully programmed and unable to speak unless spoken to. Speaking to them was strongly discouraged because, as his parent’s had insisted, it wasn’t as if they were equals.

Josh was far more verbose than any of the AI’s Klaus was accustomed to. He exhibited curiosity about Klaus and where he’d come from. Had even managed to execute some tact, and move on to more general subjects, once his inquiries about Klaus’ well known family had been met with terse replies.

Josh also offered suggestions unprompted, many of which were incredibly helpful since Klaus was new to the mechanics of a ship. A few were less welcome – Klaus was perfectly capable of researching brothels should he desire to. He did not need a rundown of which ones were purported to be the most cleanly and which offered non-standard services. He was well aware that the endorphins released after climax improved a human’s mood.

As aggravating as that conversation had been Klaus hadn’t considered activating the protocol in Josh’s programming that would prevent him from speaking out of turn. Having another entity attempting to nurture him – even ineptly – was novel and the part of Klaus that was homesick, that missed his siblings desperately, appreciated it.

For an AI Josh was also a little on the sensitive side so Klaus makes an effort to keep his tone from being harsh, “Is the ship on fire?”

Before retiring to his bunk Klaus had issues a single order, that he only be awoken if the situation was life and death.

He’s been suffering through a drawn out bout of insomnia, a common side effect to adjusting to living in space. He’d read about it while he’d been hastily throwing together plans, had figured he could deal with it. He’s finding it’s much more difficult than anticipated.

Having spent his entire life on the biggest, most prosperous, planet in The Aesir System Klaus had been less prepared than he’d realized for life on a ship. The terraforming on Odin was designed for human comfort – the temperatures were perfectly regulated, vegetation flourished and the air was filtered and fresh. Before spending his life’s savings on a ship that had seen better days Klaus hadn’t spent more than a week onboard one. As a child his family had taken occasional jaunts to the Vanir planets though even those had stopped once his mother’s parents had passed on.

Had he been a less stubborn sort of person Klaus might have already given up. His hands were covered in bandages (because he’d run out of skin fixative and it wasn’t cheap). Every muscle in his body ached constantly, strained by the physical labor required to keep the ship running on his own. He was lonely though he’d never admit that. He’d kept to himself the few times he’d had to make a stop planet-side for supplies, did his best not to seem hopelessly out of his depth when he took in terrain that defied logic, traversed cities filled with species he’d only ever read about.

As children the acquaintances he and his siblings cultivated had been strictly monitored. They weren’t permitted to interact with anyone who could possibly reflect badly on the family name. Mikael had wanted to be Chancellor, had no qualms with using his children as bargaining chips to fulfill his political ambitions.

Klaus had always hated it. Had preferred to keep to himself rather than dive into the den of snakes his father considered company befitting a Mikaelson.

Finn had been lucky enough to fall in love with his handpicked bride. Elijah chose duty, gave up Katherine Pierce for the daughter of a top ranking general. Though Katherine was an obnoxious harpy, in Klaus’ opinion, and he thought Elijah well rid of her, his dislike was personal, unlike Mikael who thought her too low born to ever be family.  

Klaus had thought his turn was coming, had been dreading the parade of plastic smiles worn by acceptable possible spouses that he’d have to endure.

A heavily buried family secret had saved Klaus from such a fate though it had cost him. In his old life he had access to every comfort, luxuries most people could only dream of.

When he’d left the home he’d grown up in he’d only had a hastily packed bag containing essential personal belongings and a few small trinkets he’d stolen away with. His access to the family accounts was cut off though Mikael hadn’t been able to touch his personal ones. Klaus imagined he’d tried, took great satisfaction in imagining how he must have fumed at being denied.

It was one of the things that kept him going.

“The ship is in perfect working order,” Josh tells him. “You’re being hailed by a courier ship and it’s urgent.”

That made no sense. Klaus hadn’t ordered anything- wouldn’t because the courier ships charged ridiculous fees. He sits up, reaching for a tablet. “What is it?”

“The manifest only lists a single package aboard,” Josh supplies helpfully, even as Klaus accesses the information himself. “From a University on Thoth.”

“Tell them I don’t want it.” It certainly sounded like something he couldn’t afford.

“I can try. But when I told them you weren’t available they insisted their delivery is time sensitive and must be opened within the next two hours. And, that as it was sent in your care, you’ll be held liable for its expiring.”

“The package is alive?” Klaus exclaims, shooting to his feet. Honestly, only an AI wouldn’t think to lead with that information.

Josh isn’t really capable of variations in pitch put the pause is long enough to seem pointed. “It’s obviously a Therapy Human. What else would come from Thoth?”

Klaus’ only knowledge of the planet was vague recollections of Rebekah begging their mother to plan a shopping trip. Something about how the fabric produced by their artisans being the best in the galaxy. “I don’t want a Therapy Human,” he says, reeling. “I don’t need a Therapy Human.” He hurriedly pulls on a shirt, sits to tug on his boots.

“Humans are social creatures,” Josh remarks and Klaus assumes that’s a disagreement.

“Can’t I send it back?” he asks.

“One moment,” there’s an extended pause and Klaus waits anxiously, pacing the few steps his cabin allowed.

“I’ve scanned the typical contracts. Returns are permitted if the Therapy Human doesn’t suit.” Well that was a relief. Unfortunately, Josh’s next words make it clear that Klaus wasn’t quite off the hook. “Which rarely happens, according to the information packet, since selections are carefully done to ensure the best match. It would be your responsibility to return Caroline to Thoth.”

“Caroline?” Klaus asks.

“Your Therapy Human,” Josh supplies.

Klaus groans, running his hands through his hair as he considers his options. Thoth was on the outer edges of the galaxy, a cluster of planets far outside the usual shipping lanes. A trip out there would cost a fortune in fuel and he had no contacts out in that direction, no way of picking up any income when he got there. “How much would a cryosleep set up cost me?”

Josh quotes a figure that would just about eat up all of Klaus’ emergency money.

“Fuck,” he grits out.

Josh is unsympathetic. “You’ve about ninety minutes left in your provided timeline. What do you wish to do?”

Klaus has very few choices and not a single one he’s especially thrilled by. He grabs the ladder and hoists himself up. “Begin docking procedures. I’ll accept the delivery.”

He’d figure everything else out later, starting with who exactly had seen fit to order him a Therapy Human, when he wasn’t in a time crunch.

Klaus hadn’t bothered to check the time on Odin when he’d placed the call. He’d been seething, his hands shaking with the effort not to smash something (because he couldn’t afford to repair anything – not now). He’s viciously pleased when Kol’s face fills the screen, eyes half open and disgruntled. He squints, “Nik? It’s the middle of the night. You’d better have a damned good reason to be interrupting my beauty sleep.”

Were this a call made for a more friendly reason Klaus might have taken the opportunity to needle his brother’s vanity. “You got me a Therapy Human?” he spits out. “Had you been imbibing something illicit again?”

Kol perks up immediately, “Oh, did she arrive already? How wonderfully efficient. Do you like her? I picked out a pretty one, just for you.”

Klaus grits his teeth together, sucks in a shallow breathe through his nose and tells himself he has to be calm. He wasn’t sure how Kol had managed to impersonate him but he needed more details before he contacted the Thoth University where Caroline had been trained. He might be furious but he’d like to avoid landing Kol a lengthy prison sentence.

Though it was entirely possible that his brother would manage to change his mind.

“Why is Caroline under the impression that she’s been corresponding with me?”

Kol grins, obviously immensely pleased with himself. “The thing with procuring illicit substances, brother, is that one meets all sorts of talented people. “I’ve got all the family videos at my disposal. Putting together a voice sim was a breeze. I told her I was shy and she didn’t push for a video call. Probably part of her training.”

“And how is it that you have a copy of my I.D. chips?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets, brother.”

“How did you pay for it?”

Kol shakes his head in mock disappointment, “You’ve no imagination, Niklaus. Do you think I’d only copy your I.D. chips? Dear old dad has quite the clever stash of hidden accounts. It’ll take him ages to realize one’s been emptied, and he’ll never trace it.”

Klaus mulls that over. Kol was alarmingly clever, particularly in matters of mischief. He’d rarely been caught, even when they’d been children and logically he should have only gotten better at covering his tracks. He has one last question, “Why did you get me a therapy human?”

Kol sighs in annoyance, “Rebekah’s in cahoots with your ship. Managed to hack in and download your vitals. She knows you’re not sleeping and she’s afraid you’re going to get space dementia and stop eating and wither away. I told her you’d do something far more dramatic like steer your ship into a star and go out with style. She wasn’t comforted for some reason. So I promised to take care of it.”

Right. Klaus makes a note to call Rebekah more often. He’s been careful not to do it often, afraid she’d be punished for refusing to cut off all contact with him. Evidently that had been a mistake if she’d gone to such lengths.

“And your mind jumped to Therapy Human because…”

“I always said you were a little off, didn’t I?”

Klaus resists the urge to ask further questions, well aware that Kol wouldn’t offer more info. Had he been closer, still in his family’s favor, he might have been able to exert more pressure. He’d just have to accept that this was, in Kol’s mind, a good deed.

“Tell Rebekah to send me a list of times she’ll be free to talk without mother hovering. We obviously need to have a discussion about boundaries.”

“Yes,” Kol says blandly, “I’m sure a discussion will immediately cure our sister of a lifetime of meddlesomeness.”

He cuts the feed without bothering to reply. His timing is impeccable because he hears the squeak of boots on metal approaching. For a moment his heart beat picks up, a kick of fear, before he remembers that he’d told Caroline to come find him once she’d eaten.

He’s been alone for weeks, had become used to being alone. It’ll take some adjusting to another presence. He’s only got the door to the cockpit open a hair and she raps her knuckles on it. “Come in,” Klaus offers, spinning around in his chair.

She smiles, open and friendly, the sort of smile that’s impossible not to respond to. She’s changed out of the thermal jumpsuit she’d been wearing in her cryochamber into a pair of snug black pants and a soft looking blue sweater. His eyes linger on the length of her legs for a too long moment before snapping back up to her face. She is, as his brother had said, very pretty. Her skin’s the sort of fair that requires protection from the sun and Klaus wonders if it could possibly feel as smooth as it looks.

Perhaps he should have paid more attention to Josh’s brothel rundown.

She’s got a bottle of water in one hand and she lays the other on his shoulder briefly. Klaus stiffens under the touch and she notices, “Sorry. My training emphasized tactility. But I understand if you’re not accustomed to it. Would you prefer I didn’t touch you?” She helps herself to the co-pilots chair, curling her legs up and swiveling to face him.

It’s been a long time since Klaus has been tongue tied in the presence of a woman but he’s finding words difficult. In truth he has little objection to her touching him but he knows enough about Therapy Humans to understand she’d find the thoughts racing through his head off putting.

He clears his throat, “Caroline. May I call you Caroline?”

Her brows furrow, “You’ve been calling me Caroline for weeks,” she says slowly.

Any lascivious thoughts immediately flee Klaus’ brain. He had to tell her the truth. “No, that’s the thing. I haven’t. You’ve been speaking to my brother.”

Her denial is immediate, “That’s not possible. Clients are vigorously vetted.”

“I’m sorry but I’m afraid my brother’s talents for deception are unparalleled.”

Caroline studies him intently, weighing the truth of his words. She wraps her arms around her legs, “Why would he do that?”

“Honestly? I’m not entirely clear. If I had to wager I’d guess 10% genuine concern for my well-being, 20% compassion for our sister who does fret over much, and 70% a desire to see if he could do it.”

Her nose wrinkles, “If that’s the case I wonder how he did such a decent facsimile of appearing appealing when we spoke since he’s obviously a cretin.”

The tiny burst of jealousy that settles low in his gut is unwelcome, “Oh?” he asks. “Appealing how?”

She shrugs, “I thought you, or well, he, was lonely. Were the things he told me about your family a lie?”

Klaus bristles, “What precisely did he tell you?”

Caroline’s eyes don’t leave him, soft with empathy, “That you found out your mother had an affair. That the man you thought was your father is a harsh man and that he was always hardest on you. That you left everyone and everything you’ve ever known behind instead of continuing to try to play the role of the perfect son.”

Klaus’ lips press tightly together, embarrassment and anger roiling through him.

“You don’t have to say anything. Just know that I’d never tell anyone things I learned in confidence. You don’t have to worry about that.”

He nods tightly, reaching out to make minute (and not strictly necessary) adjustments to their flight path.

Caroline seems content to let him have his silence, watching the stars with great interest. She sips steadily at her water and once she’s done Klaus offers another. She’d been under for a month according to the data they’d been transferred. All because of his brother’s machinations. The least he can do is ensure her comfort. “I’m fine,” she murmurs. “Thank you, though,” she twists to look at him once more. “Actually, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Were the drawings yours? Or did your brother do those too?”

“Drawings? They were probably mine,” Klaus says. “Kol’s hopeless with a pencil or paints. Why?”

“They’re why I picked you.”

Klaus blinks, surprised. “You picked me?”

She hums a confirmation, smirking playfully, “What, did you think I was ordered out of some catalogue? Please. Do you know what the demand for Therapy Humans is like? We go where we want.”

“And you wanted to come to me?” Klaus asks incredulously.

“There was one of a forest. Not the kind of forests we terraform now but one like the pictures from Old Earth. Where the trees could grow as high as they could manage and they tangled and every shade of green you could imagine was only broken up by pops of other colors where flowers grew wild. My mom used to tell me bedtime stories. A princess who escapes her castle and finds friends in a forest. A maiden in an enchanted sleep under the cover of trees, waiting for true loves kiss. A girl, who wanders off the path, finds danger but defeats it. I loved them but it had been forever since I’d thought of them. The drawings brought it all back.”

“Are you close to your mother?”

“I was,” Caroline answers, sorrow in the words.

“I’m sorry.”

Her eyes close for a moment, and Klaus sees a hint of wetness, wishes he had something to offer her. She shakes her head, “I’m fairly certain that I’m not the one who’s supposed to cry so let’s talk about something else. What’s the plan now?”

“I have to figure out the best course to Thoth. What we’ll need for the journey.”

Her head turns to him sharply, “What? You’re taking me back?”

Klaus gestures around him, “A Therapy Human isn’t in my budget, love. Nor do I need one.”

She tips her head to the side, a hint of challenge in her blue eyes, “Really? You’re happy in this teeny metal box all by your lonesome? That’s not what Josh said.”

Klaus glares at the ceiling well aware that they’re not technically alone. He’ll have to remember to make sure that a recording of this conversation doesn’t get played for Rebekah. “Josh shouldn’t be gossiping. And happiness has little to do with finances in the real world, I’m finding. ”

She waves a dismissive hand, “My contract is paid for the next year. I won’t cost you a cent. I have a generous stipend for food and clothing and things. What if I want to stay?”

That takes him aback, “I… hadn’t considered that.”

Her smile is teasing, “I’ll forgive you for being self-centered since you’ve been in hermit mode for months but don’t make it a habit.”

“Do you want to stay?”

“Maybe. Stand up, let’s test something.”

Klaus thinks about arguing but something about the set of Caroline’s shoulders tells him he’d be wasting his breath. He rises slowly, watches warily as she does the same. He sucks in a gasp when she steps into him, tucking her face into his shoulder. “This is a hug, Klaus. Try it.”

Tentatively he winds his arms around her, finds he can’t help but savor the weight of her body so close to his.

He tenses when she makes to pull back but manages to resist holding her tighter.

“Huh. You’re not as terrible at that as I anticipated.”

That’s the oddest approximation of a compliment Klaus has ever received.

“Did you hate it?” Caroline asks. “While some humans function better with regular physical contact there are some that are touch averse.”

He hadn’t hated it. Not at all. Klaus shakes his head. “It was… fine.”

Caroline beams up at him. “I can work with that. I’ve always wanted to see the rest of the galaxy. Didn’t have the money to travel but, when my aptitude test scores came back, I figured becoming a Therapy Human was my best shot. You’re my first assignment and I’d rather not fail it.”

Klaus thinks about pointing out that she wouldn’t be failing anything given the circumstances but Caroline plows ahead. “What if we try it out? Give me a month, you can chart a course vaguely in the direction of Thoth. Just… a scenic route.”

No one would ever accuse Klaus of being a pushover. Twenty minutes ago he’d had a plan but somehow Caroline had blown it to smithereens. “A trial,” he says. “Fine.”

She hugs him again, more aggressively, all soft curves, warm skin and exuberance, and Klaus acknowledges that he’d never had a fighting chance. He can easily see a month stretching two, two stretching into the full year. “You’re not going to regret this,” she tells him, sounding almost smug.

Klaus isn’t sure if he will or not. If she stays the year, if they work together, what happens then? Would he want to let her go? Could he convince her to give up her job and stay just because he wanted to?

Was that even possible?

He hears her yawn, an insistent one that sends a shiver down her whole body. “Let’s get you to a bunk,” he murmurs and she nods against him.

“Please. Cryosleep is weird and I’m exhausted.”

He’s read that, isn’t surprised when she stumbles when he begins to usher her out of the cockpit. “We can talk more tomorrow.”

While she slept Klaus would do some research, figure out just what the rules and boundaries were. He’ll get Kol to send him everything even if he has to induce Bekah into histrionics to make it happen.

He’s been aimless since leaving his home planet. It’s probably long past time to start planning for his future.

#klaroline #klarolineauweek #klaroline drabbles

[kitashiwrites]

I'm sorry my post was really aggressive. I still stand by my point that it ISN'T fair to dismiss Mor's romantic feelings (or lack thereof) towards Az, but how I acted was really awful. You don't have to post this publicly, but I hope you know I'm very sorry. My intention wasn't to try to start drama, but just receive an explanation over WHY you still ship Moriel. My way of going about it was TERRIBLE. I know sorry is just a word, but I'M SORRY.

2/2 I didn’t send you three asks. I only sent you one? Just to clear that up.3/3 I also didn’t send more than one ask. :/ 

Okay Anon. While I find it extremely hard to believe because of the timing (especially because for as long as I have been on here, I have RARELY gotten asks, let alone 3 in such quick succession that are so similar), as well as the fact that you clearly don’t stand behind your words because you felt the need to do this all on anon/have to make sure we know that you still think we are wrong, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt & accept your apology.In regards to your question, why I still ship Moriel, @sarahviehmann honestly said it best in her original answer to you: “ACOMAF was written in a way that intended for them to be shipped. So those people spent a year building up their fanon and meta and so forth, only to have the rug pulled out from under them.”

(For the sake of everyone, I’m putting this under a cut. It got way long.)

I hated ACOWAR. I’ve made no secret of that. I’ve also made no secret as to WHY. I’ve been writing fic for this series for over a year, & heavily focused on ACOMAF. I started when there were literally 7 fics posted to Ao3. Basically all of my free time at home & all of my breaks at work were spent either writing fic, discussing the series/meta with people here/talking my poor friends’ ears off over dinner, or planning fic for characters I wanted to explore in POV fics like Rhys, Tamlin, & Tarquin. Hell, I still have a 10 chapter Amarantha POV pre-ACOTAR through ACOTAR fic that’s over half written at 16k that I originally wanted to try as a surprise for my readers. I read ACOMAF enough times that I honestly would have said that I knew those characters as well as my own family, knew exactly what happened in which chapters, & got many comments here & on Ao3 from people who felt I’d captured the characters correctly, so I felt pretty good about what to expect going forward.

When ACOWAR spoilers came out, absolutely nothing made sense with what we knew or had been prior established canon. Most of all in regards to Mor, Rhys, Feyre, & Lucien, but I’m going to specifically focus on Mor, since she’s at the crux of the issue at hand. In Mor’s case, we took a woman who is described in ACOMAF as “a queen who owned her body, her life, her destiny, and never apologized for it” & says to Feyre, “I once lived in a place where the opinion of others mattered. It suffocated me, nearly broke me. So you’ll understand me, Feyre, when I say that I know what you feel, and I know what they tried to do to you, and that with enough courage, you can say to hell with a reputation. You do what you love, what you need”, & in ACOWAR made her a victim in circumstances that make absolutely no sense for the character we had known up until that date. Queen of the Hewn City? She wasn’t even treated with enough respect to be prepared to go into a meeting with her abusers, let alone shown that she is in charge. The first real female friend Feyre has ever had? Regulated to acting like a jealous girlfriend around Cassian whenever Nesta got too close. And speaking of Cassian, it was pointed out in another post (I’m sorry I don’t have the link right now) that the Cassian & Mor moments read like they were originally Az & Mor moments & were hastily changed when suddenly they weren’t supposed to be even friends. Nothing in this book read like it had been edited for continuity.

There are many bloggers who are far more qualified than I am to speak on Mor’s coming out scene, & while there was a divide, there were quite a few I know & follow who felt it was poorly written/bad rep, & I agree with their reasoning. Besides the fact that I don’t believe for one dang second that no one in the Inner Circle at a minimum would have picked up on something bothering Mor in 500 years or that she wouldn’t have at least told them even if she hid everything from Keir, there is the fact of Azriel. Azriel is in love with her, no disputing it. But it is mentioned by Rhys that Az has always thought himself unworthy of her, & Mor says that she could take her clothes off in front of him & he wouldn’t do anything. Does that sound like someone who is trying to avoid him because she isn’t interested, or someone who is creepily stalking her? In the Nessian short Wings & Embers, Cassian speaks on their relationship as well: “He wasn’t stupid. He knew she and Azriel were … whatever they were. Knew Azriel had been in love with Mor from the moment she’d strutted into the war-camp five centuries ago. And Cassian had been jealous—of Mor’s shy glances at Azriel in those first few weeks, and the fact that his dearest friend and brother … was looking at someone else.”

I’m not going to rehash Wings & Embers or ACOMAF for you. But as Sarah said, it was clearly written with them as a ship in mind, & this is from the POV of a character that has known them since the beginning, not just a few months like Feyre.

Why I still ship Moriel at this point? Because I ship it in any form. I love her & Az together period, even as friends. This ship was one of the ways @illyriantremors & I bonded originally, before we found out how much else we had in common & she became as good as a biological sister to me (I call her my Threadsister for a reason), because we shipped it back in the beginning before there was really any fic for it because it was overshadowed by Feysand, Nessian, & Elucien. Moriel was our Nessian; the unconfirmed side-ship with so much potential & evidence to back it up. When Sierra met SJM at San Diego Comic Con last summer, SJM dedicated Sierra’s copy of ACOMAF to Moriel. Why the af would an author do that if they planned to destroy a ship in the next book from the beginning?

We still love Moriel because it is hard to let go of something you’ve loved that much after you’ve been strung along & then had the rug pulled out from under you with no actual basis in ACOMAF to say “oh, it was there all along”; like when rereading ACOTAR through the ACOMAF filter, as I like to say to people, & seeing the clues that were left to the deeper story for Rhys. For me, those were not in ACOMAF upon reading it again after ACOWAR. I noticed you using my tags in your defense of yourself to Sarah regarding why I wanted to ignore ACOWAR &, by your interpretation, erase Mor’s sexuality. If you had read any of my blog at all after ACOWAR, you would have read that isn’t true, but I’ll spell it out for you: I want to ignore ACOWAR & what it did to my favorite characters’ personalities/their interactions with each other. I want to forget that Mor’s agency was taken away from her & that she was regulated to a plot twist. I want to forget that Az has been made out to be a creepy stalker. I want to forget Rhys treating Mor like she would be too emotional to deal with the negotiations with Kier & Eris & so he & Az didn’t tell her. I want to forget Feyre using Lucien to make Tamlin jealous in the Spring Court while she dismantled it from within & putting him in danger. And so much more.

I personally hate the book for multiple reasons, ranging everywhere from inconsistent characterization to grammar/editing issues. But I’m stuck with the facts it gave us, which is why writing fic is so hard to even consider anymore. It made everything about the series, not just Mor & Az, something I no longer can love with the intensity I once did, & the fandom diminishes that love more & more everyday with their bullying of people for not believing exactly the way they do, which is exactly what you contributed to when you sent those asks to myself & Sierra. And honestly, I couldn’t care less what you think of me. But if you had even looked at one of Sierra’s actual written posts/answers to asks—just one—you would have seen how quiet she’s been about her love for them as a ship & how determined she’s been to not to offend people while she’s been trying to come to terms with losing something that has been a lifesaver for her, to the point she has mostly stopped contributing to the fandom at all. She posted two Moriel drabbles during her birthday week because she was inspired by the Azriel candle I got her for her birthday, & as she said to you in her response to your original message, they were her way of saying farewell to Moriel. And guess what: even though it isn’t canon, people liked them.

I view Mor as bi, & if she’s given a healthy, happy female love interest in a future installment, then awesome. I want Moriel at least as close friends because I genuinely don’t think Az (at least the one from ACOMAF that actually made sense) would begrudge her if he knew the truth. Would he be sad? Sure, but I think he would support her nonetheless, just as the rest of the Inner Circle would. But I have absolutely no faith that SJM will give Mor anything good because she can milk the drama and turmoil she’s created, & I have no desire to see the characters & ships (across the board) I have loved so much destroyed any further.

I think @my-name-is-fireheart put it perfectly in her chime in on Sarah’s post: “Also, we should keep in mind that Mor expresses sexual attraction to men, she just prefers women. How she feels about men romantically is also blurred, though it’s slightly more clear. She says she doesn’t think she loves Az romantically but she doesn’t want to try it just to see.” SJM didn’t even know how to break her own ship apart properly to fit what you suggested, which is a good chunk of why we are even having this discussion right now.

I know Moriel is no longer canon. Cazigan (Cassian/Azriel/Mor) isn’t canon either, but I still love that. I have enjoyed their interactions with each other more than anything else since they were introduced in ACOMAF. The entire Inner Circle made me so happy for their closeness & how much of a family they were. I feel for a plot twist & a couple extra Benjamin Franklins, SJM destroyed everything that made one of my favorite characters in the entire series who she was (a strong, independent woman who didn’t let her circumstances break her & showed Feyre how not to let hers break her) & made her a poor caricature of herself, & made Az something he never has been before either because SJM hastily had to make her new & poorly executed addition work.

I shouldn’t be surprised though. This is the woman who attempted to retcon Eris of all characters into a decent person. And also took away any modicum of being able to read Tamlin as the multifaceted antagonist he had been & just turned him into a completely hateful ass with no loyalty to anyone to further drive home how perfect Rhys is supposed to be (which he definitely is not in ACOWAR, & I say that as someone who loved the morally grey character of Rhys).

TL;DR I ship Mor with Az in any form, even as friends, Mor being bi is not an issue, & I have lost all respect for SJM as an author after ACOWAR for giving us a poorly written/poorly edited product after the anticipation/hype this book had. Make of that what you will; I don’t care. I’m out of effs to give, & your ask & the other Az one I received, no matter who it was from or what your intentions were, pretty much tipped the scale in favor of me wanting to step back even further & have nothing to do with this fandom ever again.

I would ask that next time you think you have a problem with someone (because I doubt Sierra & I will be the last people you do this to), please think about how it comes across & think about your target. Your original ask was terribly hateful, & there is no amount of apology that can take that hurt away. And you would be amazed how far a little kindness & grace when asking a question instead of an accusatory message can go.

This explanation is more than you probably bargained for when you started this yesterday, but that’s the last I’ll say on any of this.

#kitashianswers #Anon Answers #Moriel #Mor deserved better #Az deserved better #anti-SJM #anti-acowar #long post #sorry to my followers #discourse & meta aren't my thing #but seriously #sending hateful messages to people is never the answer #especially on anon

[minifiction]

Seagrass

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Characters/Pairings: Lovecraft, Steinbeck; pre-Steincraft

Genre: Fluff

Rating: G

Summary: Even the solitary god of the sea shares his ocean with lesser gods.

Lovecraft does not need quiet - he would never find it in his ocean.

The rolling waves are constant.  Even if he were to find a place in the ocean without the laughter of dolphins and the songs of whales, without even the voices of fish, the waves would continue, as they should.

Lovecraft doesn’t mind the sounds - whale song is soothing, and he could rest no matter how noisy his ocean was.  What he does need is solitude.

He is not the only god in his ocean.  He is its ruler, yes, but there are tasks he doesn’t care to take on himself, and those are left to lesser gods.  If he were to manage every little detail of the sea on his own, then he would never have the chance to sleep.

Lovecraft slumbers whenever possible.  There are always ships setting sail, and their sailors always pay him tribute beforehand, but through the filter of sleep those prayers are felt only as warm feelings.

A ship setting sail without the proper rites, on the other hand, can be enough to wake him.

It depends on the magnitude of the transgression.  If a human puts a tiny boat on a small lake without paying their dues, that’s hardly enough to feel - perhaps the same as being bitten by a gnat.  A sailor taking a major voyage without asking for his blessing, however, will wake him from even the most pleasant sleep.

Lovecraft hates having his sleep interrupted.

That ship soons finds itself tossed about, a sudden storm signalling Lovecraft’s arrival and his anger.  The sea churns roughly enough that the ship begins to break apart.  Even the most carefully constructed vessel can’t stand against the god of the sea.

Lovecraft is watching the demise of the ship from a distance when another god appears before him.

Without a trace of fear, the god says, “You’re tearin’ up my garden.”

This is Steinbeck, god of sea plants.  Lovecraft has very little interest in the affairs of other gods, but he at least remembers the names of those who share his ocean with him, though they don’t interact very much.  He is a very minor god, and yet he’s glaring up at Lovecraft as though he were his equal in status and power.

“It is my right to punish those who fail to pay tribute,” Lovecraft says.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to do it right away or right here,” Steinbeck says.  He gestures towards the ship - and to the bed of seagrass below that Lovecraft’s violent storm is tearing up.  “Pick somewhere else to do it.”

Lovecraft’s pride is not as sensitive as other gods’, but even so, that’s a bold thing to say.  “You would command the king of the sea for the sake of seagrass?”

“If my plants die, then the fish who hide in the grass will be eaten, and the fish that eat the plants will starve, and the fish that need the oxygen they release in the water will suffocate.  When the little fish die, the bigger fish die, and so on.”  Steinbeck crosses his arms.  “So yeah, I’ll command the king of the sea.  Don’t mess with my plants unless you want to empty your whole ocean.”

This is a reasonable train of thought.  And Lovecraft will acknowledge the conviction it takes to argue with a much more powerful god.

The storm stops, all at once, leaving the sailor clinging to what was once a piece of his ship.  He will survive, and is not likely to make the same mistake twice.

“I will attempt not to destroy your plants again,” Lovecraft says.

“That’s all I ask for,” Steinbeck replies, relaxing.  “Thanks.”

Lovecraft is not someone who deliberately seeks out other gods, even within his own sea.  When he does feel like doing anything besides sleeping, he wanders around the ocean, admiring what he sees.  Everything from the smallest plankton to the most massive whale has its place.

Running into Steinbeck again is entirely coincidental.  Lovecraft watches from a distance, watching as giant kelp grow taller and taller with Steinbeck guiding them on.  Just recently, the kelp forest that had once been here was wiped out by sea urchins, leaving no trace of kelp or fish.  But the speed at which Steinbeck grows the giant kelp restores the forest to its former beauty.

“Fish’ll probably settle back in here pretty quick,” Steinbeck says.  Apparently he’d already noticed Lovecraft’s arrival and had just been focused on his plants.  “If the sea urchins don’t get under control, they might just eat the whole forest again, but there’s nothin’ I can do about that.”

Lovecraft brushes his hand against one of the stalks of kelp.  “...God of sea plants.  It’s not an illustrious title.”

Steinbeck shrugs.  “I like it better that way.  Nobody bothers a god of no importance in the middle of the sea.”

“Though you could bring down the sea as easily as Fukuzawa could destroy the harvest on land.”  He very clearly remembers that incident, and how Mori had ordered him to control the tides despite knowing perfectly well that the tides were only subject to the will of the Moon.  Nothing is more bothersome than being demanded to do something he can’t do in the first place.

“That whole kerfuffle is exactly why I wouldn’t do that kind of thing without a good reason.”  Steinbeck shakes his head.  “Let the other gods have their drama.  I’ve got my plants and I do a good job takin’ care of them, and that’s pretty much all I need.”

Lovecraft nods, and looks out over the kelp forest.  “...They’re nice.”

Steinbeck grins at him, and that’s nice too, though Lovecraft can’t pinpoint why.

The deepest reaches of the sea are as much Lovecraft’s domain as the surface.  Sometimes, when he wants to be assured of being alone, he retreats there.  Few other gods would enjoy this place, where sunlight doesn’t filter through, where the few animals that can survive are bizarre in comparison to ordinary fish.

Steinbeck has no reason to be down here.  No plants grow this far from sunlight, and Lovecraft looks at Steinbeck silently and waits for him to explain his presence.

“Got bored,” Steinbeck says.  He isn’t looking directly at Lovecraft - most likely he can’t see in the dark as well as Lovecraft can.

“And you decided to seek me out?” Lovecraft asks.  He doesn’t dislike Steinbeck’s presence now that they’ve met several times, but he is not the most sociable of gods.  He is aware that he is not much fun to talk to.

“Who else?” Steinbeck asks.  “I’d rather talk to you than any other god.”

That gets a pause from Lovecraft.  That’s a rare sentence.  He’s fairly certain he has never heard that before in his long, long life.

“I do not mind spending time with you,” Lovecraft replies.  “But perhaps you would prefer somewhere with more light.”

Steinbeck rubs the back of his neck, sheepish.  “Can’t see a darned thing down here.  So… yeah, that’d be great.”

“Reasonable,” Lovecraft says, and gently grasps Steinbeck’s arm.  He attributes Steinbeck’s startled expression to not expecting someone to grab him in total darkness.  “Come with me.”

Steinbeck and Lovecraft share the same sea.  There is nothing Lovecraft has seen in his ocean that Steinbeck has not also seen, and any attempts at impressing him with the scope of his domain would be foolish.

Instead, Lovecraft leads him to a coral reef, and there they rest.  Steinbeck looks completely at home among the bright colors of the coral and the equally bright fish that make their home here.  Lovecraft is dark and gloomy as he always is, and watches silently while Steinbeck laughs and wiggles his fingers at a passing pair of angelfish.

Steinbeck turns back to him and raises his eyebrows.  “You’re smiling.”

Lovecraft feels his own face to check.  “So I am,” he says.  He rarely smiles - perhaps once in a decade, at best.

“It’s a good look for you,” Steinbeck says with a sunny smile of his own.  “You should smile more often.”

There is no one Lovecraft would particularly want to smile for, nor is he concerned about trivial concepts like ‘politeness’.  He keeps his own company, and not a single animal cares if he smiles for them.  His face falls naturally into a frown and he has no reason to exert the effort, however small, it takes for him to smile.

“Perhaps,” Lovecraft says.  “Perhaps I will.”

The coral reef is beautiful, the animals have their majesty whether large or small, and even the humble plants have their own importance, but for this moment, Lovecraft has no desire to look at any being in the ocean but Steinbeck.

#bungou stray dogs #steincraft #h p lovecraft #john steinbeck #pairing: h p lovecraft/john steinbeck