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yuesya · 5 days ago

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“You need to eat me.”

The white-haired girl in front of him blinks, “That’s an odd way to start a conversation.”

Eligius briefly chokes at that uncaring, blasé response. “… I’m being serious here.”

“So you are.” Even so, the girl’s voice remains unperturbed, and her expression does not change. “Would your strange request have anything to do with the visitors who passed through recently?”

… That is a remarkably understated way of referring to the most recent Sarkaz travelers who’d visited Arkos. Travelers who’d come specifically in search of Miss Salome, too. From the heavy robes and tight wrappings that consisted their attire, from the necrosis-type Arts that they commanded, it had been obvious that they were Nachzehrers.

Nachzehrers –beings who were the very personification of war; gruesome, relentless warriors known to be devoted to the battlefield, who reveled in the slaughter.

But the standing policy of Arkos is that all visitors are welcome. Save for those who threaten the stability and wellbeing of the settlement itself, or commit crimes within its borders.

And so the Nachzehrers had been allowed to enter Arkos, just as so many others had been allowed before them, and no doubt far more would be allowed after in the future.

Eligius had regarded their Nachzehrer visitors with wariness and curiosity in the beginning. Which swiftly morphed into shock and outright alarm, when they had accosted Salome on one of her routine patrols around the mountains.

“You’re Herleva’s daughter, aren’t you?”

“My name is Naftali, a soldier who once served under Commander Herleva of the Withering Court. I apologize that it took so long for us to find you –I’ve come to bring you home.”

…

Salome had refused to leave with them.

… Much to the relief of many, Eligius included. Though their numbers were steadily increasing, it was undeniable that Salome was the heart of Arkos, and if she left, then in all likelihood they would end up scattering across the land once more. Misfits and travelers and wanderers with no place to belong, and no place to rest.

(No place to call home.)

…

Eligius had known that Salome was Sarkaz for a long time now, but he hadn’t realized that she was Nachzehrer Sarkaz. She certainly didn’t look the part; Nachzehrers were said to possess bodies that easily withered and rotted away like the necrosis Arts that they commanded, and Salome did not display any of those traits. She had a pair of distinctive Sarkaz horns sitting on her head, and that was it. Were it not for those curved horns, she probably could’ve passed as a Pythian girl with her pointed ears and long, snake-like tail covered in glittering white scales–

Or so Eligius had thought.

Because he’d seen it, the other day. Salome usually wore clothing that covered most of her skin, including a veil across her face, but he’d glimpsed her taking off her gloves –only to reveal blackened fingertips, eerily reminiscent of necrotic rot, which caused Eligius’ blood to run cold.

Was it because of her Nachzehrer blood? Was she –was she somehow rotting away? Was her Pythian blood not enough to offset the horrifying effects of her inheritance?

Wracking his brains and ruminating over what he’d overheard from the Nachzehrer visitors, there was only one potential solution that Eligius could think of. Through devouring the dead, Nachzehrers were able to add the strength of the fallen to their own, so–

“You need to eat me,” he repeats. Because if she doesn’t, if her situation worsens, then…

Salome arches an eyebrow. “Do you want to be eaten?”

…

… No. Of course not.

The day that Eligius had left Kazimierz, a broken husk of a knight who had failed his family and could no longer even properly swing a blade anymore… Eligius had thought that there no longer remained anything left for him to protect. Not that he even possessed the strength to protect anything, not as a disgraced, crippled knight driven out of his homeland.

Fate had led him to Arkos, eventually. He’d aimlessly followed a merchant caravan as a cheap hired hand, and somehow ended up staying in Arkos when a Sarkaz girl killed the head of the caravan. The man had a sexual proclivity aimed towards children, and had acted on those urges in Arkos –Salome had sliced the despicable merchant into bloody pieces for it.

Eligius had thought of his days as a knight in Kazimierz, of all the harsh training he’d undergone… only to be helpless in face of injustice and wrongdoing all the same. A knight must be honorable above all else. But what worth was there in honor when it was something that could be traded and bought by the monolithic corporations that ruled Kazimierz?

Arkos… is not perfect. The buildings are shabby and run-down, and the rooftops have a tendency to leak when it rains. There is no particular schedule for when merchants are passing through, and resources are always running tight. Sometimes, brash mercenaries end up causing trouble, even with the threat of Salome hanging over their heads.

But at some point, Arkos had grown to be precious to Eligius. The tenacity of the people that lived here, with all their storied pasts, and the young leader who never allowed the opinions of others to prevent her from doing what must be done.

Eligius is no longer a knight. With a body had been ravaged by vicious poisoning and missing his dominant sword arm, his days as a knight of glorious Kazimierz are long over.

But even so, there must be a way that he could still protect what was important to him. Even if he wasn’t the one holding the sword himself.

Eligius squares his shoulders and looks towards Salome determinedly. He knows that he is not the only one who is willing to become her strength through being devoured by her, but it’s better that a useless cripple like him becomes the first to die, so that the others–

“You don’t look like you want to die,” Salome says. Then, turns around to pick up a… shovel? From behind her? “Here.”

Eligius falters, automatically accepting the dull shovel with his sole remaining hand, “What is this?”

“A shovel,” Salome responds. Fair, but that’s not what Eligius meant– “Seeing as you have enough time on your hands to be thinking about useless things, you can go work with the others on developing the terraced gardens first.”

Eligius gives a small start, “But you–”

“I’m not interested in cannibalism. Let me know once you’ve figured out how to grow potatoes properly here.”

With that said, Salome turns and walks away.

Leaving Eligius standing in the street by himself, holding a shovel.

…

… It’s nothing but a rusty shovel, given to him haphazardly by a girl who doesn’t even bother to toss a second glance back towards him as she departs. But for some reason, the shovel rests in his hand with a greater weight than the sword he’d once held during his knighthood ceremony, and there is a strange emotion welling up within his chest–

Eligius tightens his grip on the shovel, exhaling slowly.

#writing #zenith of stars au #sarkaz au #shiki in terra #the hazardous arknights-verse #second discord snippet #MATCHA

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auriidae · 20 days ago

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the amount of em dashes i use when writing ethubs is frankly embarrassing

#IT'S REALLY BAD. but as someone who transcripts their convos for fun (punctuation and all) they DO just talk like that #ethubs #it's hard because like imo...#good dialogue in mcyt fic is stuff that sounds realistic. (and also cleverly utilizes established speech patterns).#but that's different from good dialogue writing for like say novels bc the point of THAT is to actually communicate stuff to the reader #whereas the point of me writing ethubs banter is to present their relationship in a specific way and through that explore it deeper?#idk. if i keep a good idea of the purpose of my writing it should be fineeeee #<DEFINITELY OVERTHINKING THIS REALLY REALLY BADLY PROBABLY.#n e ways i like them lots 🫶 me when tha characters #terra is rambling #ethubs roadtrip au

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awoogayanderes · 1 year ago

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KISS KISS OUT OF TROUBLE

➪ request : “HI there! I just thought of this while I was making my new account but like think off this Dazai, Atsushi and Akutagawa are on a mission at a party with their s/o and they get caught so they are running from the guards or something so them and their s/o had to pretend to be a couple making out in a hallway as to not get caught anyways love your writing! have a wonderful day!” - @ghostlyintervention

➪ warnings : slightly suggestive

➪ other notes : hey guys i’m back, it’s finally summer break, I’M SO HAPPY TO BE OUT OF SCHOOL !!! and thank you for the sweet message anon :) and also this was honestly trash but i wanted to write at 2 in the morning

Osamu Dazai :

- you two are often paired up, the agency knows how you two bounce off of each other making most missions successful

- however this one didn’t go as planned, your distraction didn’t woe over the people you wanted to woe over, instead it created chaos of anger with dazai right behind you

- this wasn’t a mission where physical altercation was a good idea, so when there’s no other plan, you and dazai fled

- your escape plan didn’t exactly work, with dazai purposely leading you to the wrong places

- your mind was spinning, trying to think of a plan before both of you got arrested

- that’s when you turn to dazai, a small smirk on his face, already knowing what to do

- you sighed, knowing this fell under his plan the whole time, in matter of seconds he was basically eating your mouth as disgusting as that sounds

- once the coast was clear, you pulled away, wheezing to yourself trying to catch your breathe while side eyeing dazai

- “how about we continue this later,” the bastard smirks at you before taking your hand and leading you to the proper exit

Atsushi Nakajima :

- it’s not too often that you’re paired with atsushi, everyone knowing how flustered he is around you, even months after starting your relationship

- now the dispute at this party wasn’t either of your fault, it was just someone recognizing you as an imposter, and that’s when both you and atsushi fled

- now, both of you didn’t exactly have a plan b, you didn’t think you’d need it

- obviously now it was a regretful mistake as you’ve wandered into the third dining hall, with guards right on your heels

- finally having some to breathe after being tucked into a corner, you quickly thought of a plan that involved both of you

- without a second thought, you lunged at atsushi, kissing him like your life depended on it, the poor boy was caught in shock but he went along with it

- he genuinely didn’t know it was some type of twisted plan of yours until the guards passed you by running not suspecting anything

- once that happens, you pull away, atsushi breathing hard being taken aback

- “please let me know the next time you do that, my heart can’t bare it” the white haired boy said with rosy cheeks

Ryūnosuke Akutagawa :

- it’s extremely rare for you and akutagawa to be together on a mission, mori doesn’t like to mix relationships with work

- his temper is what got both of you in trouble, he snapped at one of the party hosts, and with that, it started a huge fight

- while akutagawa was willing to kill everyone there, you managed to persuade him to not spill any blood on the shiny floors, instead just run

- both of you didn’t know where you were and aku’s grumbles of displeasure didn’t quite help

- that’s when you thought to yourself what the hell were you going to do to keep everyone alive and both of you out of trouble

- then an idea lit up, you slowly turned to akutagawa, “ryū please just go along with what i’m about to do,” you say and right as he was about to question you, you pushed your lips onto his, him almost pulling away

- it took all his might not to freak out on affection overload but it worked as no guards were chasing you now, instead running in the other direction

- as you pull back, akutagawa immediately turns around from you, face beet red

- “let’s just leave” he said, coughing into his hand, not looking back

#written by terra #sincerely terra #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #engraved with tenderness #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #atsushi nakajima x reader #atsushi x reader #akutagawa ryunosuke x reader #akutagawa x reader #back to writing

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terra-sketches · 2 months ago

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HOSHIMINA RAMBLE

Hey, do you guys ever think about how Hoshina's openly expressed goofiness is a direct result of Mina creating a work enviornment where he feels like he can actually be himself? Well, I do!

The younger Soshiro we see in the B-side backstory is still a bit smiley but he's noticably more reserved. His smiles aren't a staple part of his apperance like they are for him now that he's vice captain.

He spent so many years (from childhood to early adulthood) being the second choice, being overlooked, and not being taken seriously. He had faith in himself and his own abilities but he didn't think others would support him (which makes sense considering his past rejections).

So when he finally finds himself being accepted COMPLETELY by Mina and the third division he became the cheery vice captain everyone knows him to be. It's not suprising that he was able to swiftly climb the ranks and become vice captain. He was already a great swordsman and confident in his abilities but once he had an enviornment that wholeheartedly backed him, he blossomed!

Not only did Mina give him the oppourutnity to do what he loves but she also lets him laugh like an idiot around the office. He knows he's valued and so he's smiling 99% of the time (my heart is so full I might pass out).

Oh to be taken in by someone who sees you for all your potential and encourages you to pursue it at their side~

#Not platonic Not romantic But a secret third thing: Captain and Vice Captain #Don't mind me I'm on my “Mina has favortism for Soshiro” bullshit again #Hoshimina #kaiju no. 8 spoilers #terra talks #Hmmm I also want to write about how there are parallels between Hoshina finding a home with the 3rd and Narumi finding a home with the 1st #but I'll do that some other time

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stelladess · 4 months ago

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I find it odd when people frame lore revelations as being some sort of opposite to character development as they often are pretty heavily connected.

There are tons of examples like the mechanics of how the seaborne works being actively thematically important for multiple of the stories with them for example.

Kal´tsit being a synthetic being created by a now gone precursor civilization isn't just random lore fluff, it informs her character. Why she feels isolated and set apart from people and it makes her strong love for the people of Terra more meaningful because it would be easier for her to justify that she does not have to care about them because she is not one of them. But she does care about them! She considers herself part of Terra and responsible for helping people, something which clearly makes her feel very guilty for "failing".

spoilers for Babel event and chapter 14 below:

The doctor´s entire motives for betraying Theresa only make sense from their past and the goals of the precursor civilization. Those reveals do not undermine the character drama but enhance it, the contrast between the doctor wanting to be able to help people like Kal´tsit, Amiya or Theresa clashing with their mission to ensure originium absorbs everything. They know what they are doing is wrong but they feel like all choices are wrong and the one they have a duty to fulfill is the one that required betraying Theresa. I also think a nice detail is after the doctor made up their mind to betray Theresa they start referring to Kal´tsit as AMa-10 in their inner monologues and stop trying to think about Amiya at all. Pressumably sort of trying to dehumanise or ignore the people they know they will hurt because it makes it psychologically easier for them to go through with it, this is especially notable since the doctor gave Kal´tsit her name in the first place.

And when we get a bunch of weird reveals about originium and the past civilization in chapter 14... its mainly used to get some interesting character interactions between Kal´tsit and other characters and to facilitate the situation that allows for the confrontation with Theresa, also the stuff relating to the sarkaz souls stuck there is to explain why Theresa would willingly work with Theresis despite his uhm... evil aspirations, furthermore it is also to finally reveal a bit more about what Priestess was actually like as a character.

Heck back in Lone trail while the stronger character stuff was elsewhere (I especially love the Ifrit and Rosmontis focused stuff) the sarcophagi and Friston stuff is mostly to give some more insight into characters like Ho´oleyhak, Kal´tstit and doctor, introducing us to Mark Max and giving an actually believable reason for Kal´tsit having to burn her bridges with the Tin Man, causing Rhodes to be in pretty hot water with the Columbian government.

I find the idea that the story is deciding to "stop doing character focus to do lore" absurd quite frankly.

World building is important! What makes Arknights unique compared to a lot of other popular gacha games is in large part the world and history. Arknights characters are well written, but in particular they are well written in the sense that Arknights is good at showing how the world they live in shape people into who they are. Learning more about that world to explore it in greater depth is not contradictory to the goal of interesting character writing, it helps it.

#arknights #kal'tsit arknights #the doctor arknights #doctor arknights #this great land of terra #i should write something about how terra itself is actually characterised pretty interestingly sometime

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yzafre · 6 months ago

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The thing about Ventus as we're introduced to him in BBS is, for me, that he has a lot of right instincts and feelings, but not (yet) the maturity to properly communicate and act on them.

Because if you look at what he says in the game - hey something bad's coming, we should stay together, we should support each other, we should not spy on each other and mess with other's agency at an outsider's behest - I mean... he's right! He is, in fact, right about that!

I very firmly believe that if they'd stuck together a lot of the issues in BBS would have been either avoided or mitigated. Like imagine if you had this unshakeable understanding of what's going wrong and what you need to do to fix it but no one will listen to you. Without experience and maturity guiding you on how to handle it, I can see why he gets very yell-y and snappish and impulsive.

The problem, of course, is that just because it's understandable does not mean it's a good way to handle things. It's still an immature course of action! I know there's been people that find him very whiny, and on top of that, uh, telling Aqua she's awful was not the best look, Ven, what the heck.

I think another aspect of this is he's still filtering these things he instinctively knows through a rather... self-centered? Point of view. He's more focused on how their actions are making him feel, rather than understanding why Terra and Aqua are acting the way they are, why they don't see the truths he does.

We joke a lot about "your experience is not universal" but honestly I think realizing that is a huge stepping stone in a person's path of growth. Looking outside yourself to realize other people are have their own internal worlds guiding them.

That's why the "What you are is Darkness?" scene in KH3 hits so well for him! He's both finally able to communicate why he finds his and Vanitas' situation so awful rather than just yelling a lot, but also he understands and acknowledges Vanitas' point of view, even if he probably still knows/feels its not the best one.

#I just wish we got to see more scenes with Aqua and Terra #that showcased this growth as well #I just got done writing some ventus scenes #and I need to brain dump all the analysis behind his actions I had running in the background #kh #kingdom hearts #ventus

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sleepyfan-blog · 4 months ago

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Adonis' Care

Author’s Note: This is the next part of the Raised On Terra AU. First. Previous. Next. Thank you to @kit-williams for allowing me to borrow Adonis! First. Previous. Next

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @sharenadraculea @i-am-a-dragon34 @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Warnings: None? Ask me to tag something if it bothers you

Summary: Adonis soothes his fussy charges during Naptime

Adonis sighed a little as he heard one of his charges crying in his crib, yet again. He had just left the Primarch's room in order to refresh himself and to eat something and had been gone for less than ten minutes. If he did not immediately return, more of the other infant generals would start to cry in sympathy and it really was for the best to simply nip that in the bud. Especially since at this time, it was currently Naptime, and if the other primarchs were awoken from their sleep it would take hours to calm and settle all of them down once again.

Time was difficult to tell when one spent prolonged periods of time in this part of the imperial palace, as there were no windows that lead to the outside, no chronometers or other time keeping devices on the walls, and the hallways had been deliberately made with very minute changes to confuse any would-be intruders who had somehow managed to get this deep into the Imperial Palace. The primarchs were growing at a steady pace, with most of them having learned how to make small sounds that weren't crying. Sixteen had giggled the other day and Adonis had felt something in his hearts melt at the innocent sound. All four of his charges smiled up at him when he held them, and settled down once they were up in his arms.

Fourteen is the fussiest of the four of them, and had been suffering from colic in the evenings, but even he settled down once picked up and held close. One tiny thumb firmly placed in his mouth, as a tiny ear pressed against his chest, listening to the steady beat of Adonis' hearts. As an Aquilan Shield he interacted with baseline humanity much more frequently than many of the golden host in a positive and/or neutral manner, however that did not mean that he had much interaction with human children, especially infants as young as the primarchs. The week worth of childcare training had felt almost like a punishment at the time, boring and largely a repeating of completely understandable rules and things to watch out for.

Now, as he nearly stumbled into the primarchs' nursery, having spent maybe four hours asleep in the past seven days due to the crying of his charges - primarily Fourteen who did have an Apothecary visit scheduled later today... Which Adonis was not looking forward to. Of the four of them, Fourteen was the most introverted and did not like interacting with new people, becoming withdrawn and weepy whenever he realized that there was a new person near him.

And, given the fact that Fourteen showed signs of being one of the most powerful psykers among the primarchs (save for fifteen who had been purpose built to be a stable and powerful psyker) his budding warp abilities granted him the ability to sense either the minds, souls or emotional cores of the beings around him within a certain radius - a radius at which the Emperor was currently having tested. Of course, who knew how much his nascent psykery was or was not being affected by both the infant blank that lived and slept in the same room he did, but also the adult blank that was quite often in the primarchs' room, tending to his own charges.

As he had expected, Fourteen was awake and crying, kicking his little feet back and forth, waving his clenched fists around his bassinet, having managed to throw his blanket off of himself in a display of strength that would be remarkable, were he a baseline human.

Adonis sighed softly as he walked over to Fourteen, calling out to the little one as he picked him up "Easy... Easy now, little one. I've got you. You're safe, and your brothers are safe. There's no reason to cry. We're going to go to the medicae soon, in order to find out why you're crying so much. Hopefully they'll know how to fix it and your tummy will stop hurting or whatever is making you cry so much will stop."

Fourteen's wails slowly stopped as golden eyes so similar to His peered into him. The infant sniffled a little before sighing, resting his head against Adonis' forearm, eyes closing again.

Adonis chuckled softly, pulling out a tissue from one of his pockets and gently wiped away the tears from the little one's cheeks and chin. He lightly patted dry the onesie fourteen was wearing. "That's it... Go back to sleep little general. You're safe now." he rocked the infant slowly back and forth as Fourteen slowly settled down.

The Aquilian Shield waited until he was certain that Fourteen was soundly asleep before lowering him back into his bassinet slowly, so as to not wake him up. The infant primarch preferred to sleep in a caretaker's arms, but the Emperor insisted that coddling the primarchs like that was to weaken and soften the edges they would need to be successful generals.

As the Emperor decreed, so Adonis would obey, even as long buried instincts wanted nothing more than to cuddle the precious infants in his care every moment he was allowed to do so. Fourteen continued to nap peacefully and Adonis turned, about to leave the room when he heard baby babbling from one of his other charges.

"Ahh... Ooooh... Ah! Aah!" Seventeen cooed, having somehow managed to flip himself onto his belly, despite the perfect swaddle that Adonis had put him into on the infant's back - it was safer for infants to sleep on their backs, then on their bellies for a number of reasons.

"Hmmm? Did you say something, young one?" Adonis called out, smiling softly as he walked over to Seventeen's bassinet. "It's naptime, little one. You must be quiet, so as to not to wake your brothers." He pitched his voice low and soft, in the hopes of not waking up any of the others. Exhaustion sung in his bones, but he was a Custodes. A week with scant sleep was nothing to him. This was a trial he would be able to overcome with ease and grace.

Seventeen waved both of his tiny hands in Adonis' direction "Ah! Ahhh! Ah!" he vocalized.

"Do you want up? Did you see me holding your brother, and want to be held yourself?" The Aquilan Shield asked, the smile on his face widening a little, despite himself.

"Ah! Ahh! Ah!" Seventeen's vocalizations were getting louder, and it was only a matter of time before he woke up one or more of the others, if he hadn't already.

"Alright, alright. I'm coming, little one. No need to be so demanding." Adonis rumbled, charmed despite himself. He carefully picked up Seventeen, making sure to support his head in the process. They'd recently been able to support their heads on their own, but habit was a tricky thing to break... Besides, he wanted to be careful with the infant generals while they were so vulnerable. While they theoretically could sustain more physical damage than a custodes and healed if given the proper amount of nutrition and their initial wounds properly cleaned... The last thing he wanted was to hurt them. It went against his orders as a caretaker and... The thought of raising a hand to hurt any of them made his skin crawl.

Seventeen stopped cooing the moment he was resting against Adonis' chest, his breathing evening out into his normal sleep pattern, one tiny hand lightly curled into the cloth of Adonis' tunic.

If Adonis waited a couple of minutes longer than he strictly needed to, after Seventeen fell asleep, no one would know. He was the only caretaker in the Priamrchs' room and he knew for a fact that there were no security cameras in this room - it was too much of a risk for the enemies of mankind if they caught so much as a holopict of the infant primarchs outside of the stasis chambers that most of those in the know about the Primarch Project believed them to be. The forces of The Great Enemy were tirelessly and maliciously working to try and twist and corrupt all that they could - and would soon send an infiltration force in order to try and steal away the Primarchs from their father. From Terra.

Captain-General Valdor had several traps set in place for these would-be thieves and saboteurs. But should they manage to slip the net, or manage to get anywhere near the room where the Primarchs were being held, Adonis would fight until his dying breath to keep his charges safe and free from their tainted clutches. He was absolutely certain he wasn't the only one of the caretakers to feel that way.

Twelve woke abruptly and began to sob, briefly startling Adonis. The Custodian swiftly made his way over to the empathic baby Primarch, murmuring "Easy... Easy little one. You're alright. You're safe. It's okay... No need to cry.... No tears need be shed. I just felt a little too protective for a moment there. I'm sorry for waking you up, little star." He had forced his emotions back into a semblance of calm as he picked up the infant primarch, as if he didn't while he was holding onto Twelve, it would not matter how he rocked or shushed the infant primarch. He would scream and wail, feeling the emotions of the one touching him.

Twelve snuffled and whimpered for several minutes before settling back into sleep, yawning adorably as he did so.

Adonis did not fight his responding yawn, exhaustion singing deeper into his bones. The chairs were comfortable in this room... And Twelve would be secure enough in his arms, even sleeping...

Another yawn left the Aquilan Shield as he shuffled over to the nearest chair, sitting down in it heavily, eyes closing as he rearranged how he was holding Twelve to make sure that the little one would be safe as they both slept, as sleep took him.

#my writing #raised on terra au #warhammer 30k #oc: adonis #mortarion #angron #horus lupercal #baby primarchs

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asukaskerian · 8 months ago

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

.__. *squish squish* thank you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ID28YB: holy shit were all guna die in space aaaa

ID28YB: on the upside italics!

ID17NC: fuck how do you backspace backspacebacmlnpi

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

ID01JA: Like shit it is, PrivatE.

ID01JA: DamN.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The door opened and Corporal Vantas stepped through.

(Not Karkat. There was a difference.)

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

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

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

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

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

"Mm. No."

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

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

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

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

Maybe a little hesitation. Maybe just the translation issues.

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

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

ID28YB: i wanted mauve goddamn!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Huhn. You want telepathy now?"

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

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

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

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

"... Yeah, maybe that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Karkat's hand was hot even through the glove.

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

"Zhann."

"... Sorry."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"... Huhn."

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

"Oh."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mm."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mnh."

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you want sex."

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

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

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

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

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

John groaned, slumped forward again.

"... Mouth thing, was good?"

"... Yeah."

"Touching?"

John gave a little grunt, eyes closed.

"Want where?"

"Why do you need to know?!"

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

"Zhann."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was maybe smiling a little.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The tablet beeped.

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

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

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

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

Karkat's hand caught his wrist.

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

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

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

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

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

A harsh beep.

No more time. Follow me?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mechs. Piloting.

Winning the goddamn battle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Can you blame her though? haha.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John went through a weapons check.

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

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

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

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

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

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

#battlefield terra #asuka writes #this dates from 2017 sobs #homestuck #jonhkat

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lily-belle-art · 4 months ago

Text

No one gets her like I do istg dc hire me 🙏🙏

#tara markov #terra #new teen titans #teen titans #team titans #my art #little miss princess 💞#I combined og Tara w clone Tara bc they r the same person w different environments 2 me #I could write essays abt her characterization in these tags watch me

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necrotic-nephilim · 3 months ago

Note

this is an invitation to ramble about slade/batboy ships: sladick, sladejay, sladetim, sladedami, and other batfam member/villain ships, especially jayroman and ra'stim :)

AAAAAA this is so delightful oh my god thank you. adding a read more just because this one is going to get Long to cover all the ships and all my opinions. because my god do i love Slade.

firstly, the original Robin/villain ship, SlaDick. Slade Wilson, literally created to be a Teen Titans villains, with the original Robin he cannot be normal about ever. i'm so sad there's not much interest in Slade aside from making him a generic Evil Guy who canonically likes teenagers because i think to just boil down his complex with Dick to 'weird attraction' robs them of SUCH nuance. Slade *trusts* Dick, he trusts Dick enough to ask Dick to train his own daughter Rose. and initially Slade's complex over Dick isn't sexual, it's seeing Dick as a replacement for his dead son, Grant. that's messy as hell and i love them for it. i don't think there's a single villain that has the respect for Dick that Slade has. i'm always of the opinion Dick's attraction to Slade is rooted in daddy issues and Slade's attraction to Dick is rooted in dead son issues. do i think they could end up as an old married couple? yes but only in a world where Dick is completely broken and feels alone. my favorite SlaDick flavor is post-Jason's death. Dick and Bruce are arguably at their worst during that era to begin with so Dick is pretty isolated and emotionally unstable. and Slade would take such advantage of that, swooping in to offer Dick emotional stability and fucked up sex to get out pent up emotions. (i'm big a big fan of Dick fucking out his feelings tbh) and Slade is just. this sort of bad habit Dick will kick for a year or two then come crawling back to. you can directly track how well Bruce and Dick are getting along based on how many times Dick has slept with Slade recently. and that's the prize, for Slade. knowing Dick will come back to him, eventually. it's all about patience. and if something really extreme happened to Dick (like Bruce's fake death) i think they'd even date briefly. it's not entirely impossible for Dick to date someone he disagrees with morally (see: his flings with Helena) and i think Dick would keep trying to 'save' Slade, using the upper hand he has of filling in this role of Slade's dead son to try to domesticate him. would it work? who knows but if anyone is going to try over and over, it's going to be Dick. it's practically self-harm for Dick yet the only thing keeping him sane. i love them.

SladeJay is... an interesting one for me. because i like the *potential*. but they have no significant interactions pre-Flashpoint. and while usually i can forgive New-52 and Rebirth for their grievances if it has ship fodder i just... can't do that for Jason. Judd Winick's Jason is the only Jason that exists to me so even Slade and Jason's canon interactions matter little to me because it's not the version of Jason i care for. the upside of that though, is it's more of a sandbox to explore what they could be and there are no limitations. i can just run wild. which is fun bc. you're telling me Slade wouldn't be so drawn in by the idea of a dead Robin who's come back and is now the antithesis of Bruce's morality? i think at some point Slade would want to poke the bear, really see what Red Hood is made of. do i see them working long-term? no but i do think Jason would have zero qualms working with Slade if he got something out of it. and if he could fuck with Bruce or Dick by having a short, fucked up relationship with Slade? that's even better. i don't think Slade could ever truly respect Jason, at the end of the day the Dick Grayson standard is too high and Slade would sneer at the idea of a legacy who fucked it up so bad he got blown up. but, he'd see that as Bruce's failure more than Jason's. and for Jason to have someone look him in the eye and say that Bruce *failed* him? i think that'd just *do* something to Jason. and Slade has lost a son, he knows what that loss feels like, how you feel you failed as a father. would he have interest in being fatherly to Jason? no but i think he'd have fun momentarily manipulating Jason and seeing what reactions he gets out of what jeers. Jason's been calling himself a failure this whole time, so to have someone else say it is no real big deal, but to have someone else say it's Bruce's fault and voice Jason's feelings? they'd have the most fucked up sex with the most unhealthy dirty talk that's both gentle and degrading. i don't think Jason would ever let himself get too close, he's far too emotionally guarded. but for a second, i think he'd fantasize about having even *half* the amount of attention that Slade gives Dick. bc what has Jason always been, but in Dick's shadow.

SladeTim. my two blorbos. in one place. somewhere in my drafts i have a half-started longfic about SladeTim that's one half really fucked up porn and one half slowburn feelings. arguably Tim and Slade don't have many canon interactions, but it's fun to me that when they do, Slade always seems sort of startled by how well Tim fights back and Tim's willingness to fight dirty in a way even Dick doesn't. and to me, that's the crux of this ship. as far as Robins go, Tim should sort of slip under the radar for Slade. he's not the dead one turned villain, he's not the grandson of Ra's al Ghul, hell he's not even the child of a second-rate villain like Steph, he's not *the* Dick Grayson, he's just... the other one. grew up pretty rich and normal and fell for all of Bruce's wax poetic nonsense. so when Tim puts himself on the map as a hero, makes himself a worthy opponent against Slade that's interesting. even to Tim, Slade isn't a particularly remarkable villain since Slade cares to stay more on Dick's radar. so when they cross paths there's a lot of unexpected. neither of them have thought about the other too hard. so there's this interest and intrigue about it i love. i'm a big fan of the idea Tim is a massive masochist, both physically and emotionally and Slade is The Sadist Ever so. i like them falling into bed together and having the most fucked up sex. like Tim just being a Weird Little Freak so fucked up even Slade raises an eyebrow. because this isn't what you *expect* of a kid like Tim, who's had a pretty easy life before tangling with vigilantes. he should be like a fish out of water, but instead he's matching Slade's energy in ways even Dick doesn't. and of course, how smart he is, that's an asset. it takes a special kind of kid to have the audacity to poison Lady Shiva with hotel chocolates and pull it *off* no less. it earns a begrudging respect, and it's rare to get Slade to respect someone. i really like the idea of Tim seeking Slade out only for fucked up sex and somehow Slade falls for this weird little freak who's cold and clinical outside of sex and keeps him guessing.

i'll be honest i've only considered SladeDami in the context of seeing antis say 'omg Slade has been predatory toward Damian ewww' and going 'no the fuck he hasn't but if you want that so bad i'll ship it just to spite you all' but their canon interactions do fascinate me. a lot of how they interact is predicated on Slade as a father, even more so than SlaDick. like Slade will fight Damian and then be like 'hey be good to your old man fathers need their sons' and fucking dip. and then with the whole Respawn thing and Shadow War? that was extra crunchy. for a brief moment Slade had a son who was a brother to Damian and then he goes and *dies*? talk about the complex that would give him with Damian, the spitting image of Respawn. Make Slade Weird About Batkids That Remind Him of His Son 2024. Damian holds an utter contempt for Slade that is simply unmatched. so Slade not leaving that kid alone because of his weird issues, making sure that Bruce doesn't screw up with Damian the way he screwed up with Respawn is very fun. and Damian slowly building up a tolerance to Slade's annoying antics could be fun. Damian is, at his core, still just a kid who needs the approval of something father-shaped and he will Take What He Can Get. are they ever healthy or long lasting? no but i do think Damian would cling to Slade during his teen years for something incredibly fucked up and codependent until either Slade dumped him or he forced himself to get over it.

JayRoman. i will not lie love these two but i don't think i've read many Black Mask comics when he's not interacting with Jason. which is funny because my entire conception of Roman is him just getting humiliated by Jason and really what more is there to know about the man. Jason is so unserious in how he handles Roman and the best part is you can tell it's truly because he doesn't see Roman as a threat. Roman's just a pawn in the game of getting Bruce's attention and sure, Jason is aiming to kill Roman by the end of it, but he'll always have bigger fish to fry. and that's so *infuriating* for Roman. this new guy who's *clearly* a fucking teenager shows up, owns you so badly it shatters your empire, and then you only live bc he seems to have gotten bored of you. JayRoman is my particular favorite ship for the flavor of 'the sub in bed is in control of every other aspect of their relationship and their submission is a gift that can be revoked at any time' which we don't get enough. fucked up power dynamics always have the sub being the one lacking control. and whilst i enjoy when Roman is able to absolutely control and manipulate Jason through various means, i think in canon, it makes far more sense he's pathetic and begging Jason for even a *chance*. and Jason very specifically picking who he subs for based on someone who he could kill or destroy at the drop of the hat if he needed to is a very Jason thing to do. there will never be trust between these two. they will fuck nasty and Roman will be in love with Jason. but they are both carrying a gun during sex. the gun is probably involved during the sex.

Ra'sTim. my everything. Red Robin (2009) you will always be famous to me. what *don't* they have. forced proximity. enemies to lovers. forced partnership. one-sided obsession. ridiculously large age gap. deep unforgivable betrayal. i will never evacuate these two from my brain dear god. Ra's is another one of those villains who gets painted with one broad stroke of being cartoonishly evil with no exploration of his interesting nuance. making him nothing but a villain is boring. where is the Ra's who loves so deeply and fully and has to lose his loved ones over and over and will not let that happen to Tim. he wants to consume Tim in a 'cannibalism as a metaphor for love but also probably literal cannibalism' way. the amount of trust put in Ra's in order for Tim to be able to betray him as spectacularly as he did? that's glorious. Tim had full unfiltered access to Ra's' computers even when he was advised against trusting Tim so much. and then Tim wins against Ra's and willingly lets Ra's kill him. (obviously Dick saves him, but I'm of the opinion Tim was just committed to dying in that moment and he was Okay With That) 'i will betray you if it's the last thing i do' as an act of love. Tim is to Ra's what Dick is to Slade. you will never convince me Tim and Ra's didn't hatefuck at least once during RR (2009) with a questionable level of consent. i'm so serious i will never shut up about them. the way Tim talks about working with Ra's as if he's making a deal with the devil and Ra's talks about Tim like he's the precious, once in a life time thing, one of the only people worthy to produce an heir for Ra's. how's that not gay. what other ship involved one of them literally trying to have the other's baby to raise as an heir. Ra's would probably carry the baby himself if he could. memes aside they're just so. they're so it. i love when Tim is forced into a Situation where he has to work with Ra's and confronts the darker aspects of himself that Ra's wants to bring out but Tim wants to squash. it is The corruption kink. whether Ra's succeeds or not in corrupting Tim doesn't even matter because the real crux of this ship is the chase. it's the way the heart pounds when they reach out for each other and you don't know if it's for a kiss or a killing blow. it's very Hannigram to me, in that i don't even need or want them to kiss to know they're in love. love to them is not true love's kiss, it's the thoughtful place they decide to stab the other in. be the sheath to my dagger type ship. hold all this bloody violence i know you're capable of inside of you. let me cut the violence out of you ship. what more can you ask for from a ship. Ra's would tie Tim down and torture him both as foreplay and as a love language and Tim would be too fucked up and self-sacrificial to stop him. always playing the dangerous game of how far will the other let them go until someone tries to die or kill. listen i think i lost the plot here but my point is they're unwell about each other. Tim will make Ra's regret the day he met Tim Drake not just for the betrayal but because Ra's can never go back to a time Before Tim. before knowing what the chase felt like. they're so. them.

#necrotic answerings #sladick #sladejay #sladetim #sladedami #jayroman #ra'stim #i was going to include timlonnie for my own indulgent reasons but this already got so long.#also i've been having some timulysses thoughts as of recent.#aghhhh #sorry this took me a second to answer #i was writing a fic for omega dick week #it ended up 11k words long god somebody help me.#seriously thank you so much for this ask this just makes me so soft ppl wanna ask my opinions on ships #like oh my god ppl care about my weird thoughts. wtf /pos #i was worried when i started this blog that like. no one would care.#but i'm thriving.#yeah in case you can't tell i'm a big fan of tim.#he's just so.#rastim will be like. the peak of peak for me.#but i love all the others just as much #slade wilson deserves more nuance than ppl just calling him a predator/loser. bc yeah he is duh but he's also complicated as hell.#also i'm so serious i saw someone say damian was a 'victim' of slade's #and their proof was a single cover where damian is chained up upsidedown and happens to stick his tongue out at slade.#like. oh my god read their actual interactions you walnuts.#this is a common sentiment on tiktok. the idea damian and dick are victims of slade on the level terra was #which. like blatantly no. they fucking were not.#also the judas contract is just a complicated ass storyline that deserves more nuance than it gets #btw for sladejay i know there's some interactions in the arkhamverse that seem pretty interesting #but i don't know the arkhamverse all too well so i didn't comment

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