#at least the ones who weren't tagged by op

[iocallistoeuropa]

This is the best shit I've read in a while. Every few lines, I went: "This is my favorite part... No, wait, *this* is my favorite part". (I think my favorite part was "Nemecsek*". And notice!! how Boka lets it slip when others' names aren't capitalized, but nobody dare write Nemecsek with a lowercase n, or else!!!)

Also, I think I'm just like Boka when I talk to 💫gay teenagers💫 (probably straight teenagers as well). 70% of the time I'm like "??? Really confused rn".

one of those puf texting fic things but its actually accurate to how REAL LIFE gay teenagers talk (i know because i am a gay 17year old)

[ethereal-blossom]

Deep dive on Victor and his possible past + curse

This man is as attractive as he is mysterious and the curiosity is killing me, so I just need to let out some thoughts.

** I'm going to be referencing some translations and posts so I'll link them and their OP's (I'm too afraid to tag hehe but they deserve all the love and appreciation🩷)

Be aware of JP and EN spoilers

First, what are some things we know and are safe to assume when it comes to Victor? He's the co-founder of Crown and the Queen's Aide. I think it's safe to assume Victor is the oldest in Crown; Harrison calls him an old goat, he acts like a mom, and I believe in the Valentine event the dynamic between Harry and Victor was labeled child-parent. Through this detailed post that @/kurishiri made we can guess that Victor is 30/32+ years, which I have to subjectively note is very hot. William was 14 when he was invited to the castle where he met Victor, meaning that Victor has been associated with the castle for at least 14 years. Was he already the Queen's Aide back then? High-likely, yes.

But how long exactly has Victor been the Queen's Aide? And how did he become one in the first place? One thing that stands out to me is this dialogue in Victor's Wicked Little Secret event:

For context, Victor is sharing why he started doing magic tricks. He explains it's traced back to the queen and how she does them as a reminder of how difficult but precious it is to get someone to smile.

Of course, it can be that Victor simply didn't go with the queen to the slums that day or that she told him about it, but I like to think about the possibility he didn't know the queen at this point but knew about it anyways because he was a kid in the slums. It might explain why he doesn't necessarily pay attention to status and why he treats people such as the villagers and Kate as his equals despite being the most powerful man in the country. Does he stay humble due to perhaps having experienced the lack of power, money, and status to a severe degree? And is the Victorian slums the reason why he suffered enough pain for a lifetime?

@/Reccyls translated an event in which the suitors are meant to win over Kate's heart by having her give the suitor a heart-shaped necklace. Jude, Roger, and Alfons are being very proactive while Elbert, William, and Victor are drinking tea. The nobles team points out there's no rush because it's the end of the day that matters. Victor agrees but then suggests they're also probably laid back because they are rich. It might be nothing but if you ask me, that's pretty self-aware and honest for a rich person. Not every rich person will realize having money does influence you, and not everybody loves to point out the frowned upon behavior that comes along with money, especially when it applies to yourself. So, it's a very small thing to say and I might be reading too much into it, but I think the people who know the affect of money better than anyone are the people who weren't born first class.

Victor continues to point out what makes William and Elbert rich, but right when he wants to talk about himself he cuts himself off (🖕/affectionately) . It confuses me because sir, you are the Queen's Aide. Why is it a mystery that you're rich? Elbert asks if Victor comes from nobility but we never get a yes or no answer to that. So is there still a chance he might have been born in a rich family? Yeah, but I'm not a strong believer of it. Victor is known to cook and sew, and I don't remember where or when but I believe he said somewhere that if he can do it himself he won't let the maids do it. Does that sound like the skills and the mindset of a man born in nobility during the Victorian age? Not to me, so here comes my next thought: what if queen Victoria has taken young Victor under her wing?

I don't know how it would necessarily end up like this, though. But I was thinking: it didn't go unnoticed by us that Victor and Victoria's names are scarily similar to each other (it's like yeah whatever we're a bit like Sherlock ourselves yknow💅). What if his name was quite literally inspired by the Queen's name in the story itself? Maybe Victor chose it or Victoria gave it to him.

Because @/shatcey recently made a post pointing out that William said "the man who calls himself Victor." I heavily agree with her that the phrasing is suspicious, mostly because of Victor as a character.

If he is from the slums then perhaps he's an orphan who doesn't know his actual name, or maybe he took up another name? If Victor is not his actual name, it might explain why we don't have a last name in the first place. Also, @/otomefiend translated the Black Wedding event when it came out in JP. While the official English translation uses "business smile" to describe Victor wearing a smile to bury his dark comment, I like her translation saying "Victor, the Queen's Aide' expression" much better. I genuinely could go into depth about this but I sadly digress. It makes me think back on the summary reccyls did for the first christmas event wherein Victor was wondering if he should give a "Victor-like" response.

Naturally, it can also mean he just has different persona's connected to his masks as this is a reoccurring theme and topic in his content. Victor said in the Between Villains' epilogue (translated by otomefiend) that he wants to be seen as the gentle Queen's Aide by Kate, so after showing a bit of his darker side it's natural he goes back to his gentle side that still implies distance to ease Kate. However, that doesn't make any of his masks a lie or someone he is not. Important disclaimer to put out there because this doesn't have to be proof that Victor isn't who he says he is. The phrasing just reminded me of this.

So, it wouldn't be a deep dive if I didn't talk about the theory that Victor might be the queen. Harrison has pointed out twice that Victor lies a lot. I think it'd be so funny if Harry is going to be like "stay away from Kate you old goat >:(" in Victor's route and then William is going to be the complete opposite like "listen to your desires and get a room already :)"

I think we might have seen the queen once, but it's canon that people have cosplayed her so who says it doesn't happen all the time? Victor only has to say the Queen's safety is in danger and then someone will fill in. I think it's safe to assume Cybird is making us doubt whether the queen is alive on purpose and what does that say about the mystery? You don't create mystery when there's nothing to reveal.

In Wrapped in Wicked Romance, something broke from the Queen's tea set only for Victor to reveal that, surprise, it's his own set! During the first anniversary epilogue (talked about by shatcey here) Kate gets told the queen is waiting for her in Victor's office and surprise, it's Victor! Or how in Between Two Villains it's mentioned how Victoria doesn't seem human because of the dedication she has as queen but then the doubt of humanity is a theme in Victor's events as well. Or how in Harrison's route Jude is reading the morning's newspaper and it mentions a criminal situation and surprise, Victor shows up from behind and says the queen ordered a mission related to it... almost like he overheard the news and decided on the spot it had to be dealt with.

To be honest, I don't know what to think when it comes to the queen. If she's actually dead, I think she might have died from an illness and then the veil + private persona might have been crafted to make it easier to look like she's alive (a bit like this one thing in Ikemen Prince). Why she should give the impression of being alive? I don't know, there's a high chance I am reaching. Maybe the queen is very healthy and happily living her introverted life.

Going back to another translation by reccyls, here Victor ends on the note that even if he has feelings for Kate he can't offer anything as "I belong to her majesty/ Victor belongs to Victoria." Ignore that you can call me the wicked witch of the west with how green of envy I turned, but this stood out to me a lot.

I think it shows an incredible amount of dedication and loyalty, and I read it in two ways. If Victor was saved by Victoria, it might be that he feels like he owes her himself, or perhaps a deal/promise was made? But, in a way, I also read it as Victor belonging to England. His loyalty towards queen Victoria is loyalty towards the safety and well-being of England, a land he's passionate about keeping safe.

The relationship between Victor and Victoria is lowkey fascinating to me because if she's still alive, they have been together for so many years. Victor always talks so positively about her so even though we barely interacted with her, I became to really like and admire ikevil!Victoria. Victor is also the only one who we know speaks with the queen directly. For the tea set mentioned earlier, Victor said he replaced them with his own because he is known to break them when he and the queen are drinking tea. Victor braids the queen's hair and helps her with fashion. William even said in this event translated by @/judesmoonbeauty that the queen knows everything about Victor.

We've almost reached the end but the last thing I want to talk about is Victor's birthday event translated by @/archiveikemen. Victor murders a bunch of criminals with what I assume is his curse or something in that direction. He commands them to succumb to his wickedness and the people essentially kill themselves with a peaceful expression. William makes a comment about it, saying these men look as if almost possessed by a God. Victor thinks to himself it's like saying "Her Majesty The Queen" was no God, and then he says humans can never be God. To be honest, I'm slightly confused because I feel like this can mean different things. When Will makes his comment he's speaking about the peaceful faces, so I don't think he's talking about how the criminals were unhealthily worshipping the queen but I assume he's talking about Victor's ability.

One of the reasons why I think it's a curse is because of this post Shatcey made. One of the screenshots translates to Victor saying he doesn't want Kate to end up lying at his feet with a happy face. It sounds an awful lot like what happened to the criminals in the event. Victor worrying about Kate's fate like that makes me believe it might has something to do with the fate of his possible curse. Think about it: Kate essentially gets dragged in every cursed fate of the suitors and if Victor is another cursed individual, it's high-likely his curse is related to death.

There must be something special going on, though. Is Victor's curse like any other but kept a mystery because something about Victor's identity should stay a mystery? Or is there actually something special about his curse or whatever ability he has? Because his birthday event convinced me he's not an ordinary human. However, something special must be going on for this to be a mystery.

Funny story but for a while I thought that if Victor is cursed it might be Ursula from The Little Mermaid. Sometimes you can see Easter eggs of the suitor's curses back in the outfit designs so when I looked at Victor's outfit, I saw he has scrubs on his jacket (reminding me of fish) and something that looks like knots/ropes (reminding me of sailboats), plus the deep blue and black aesthetic still reminds me of the dark sea. There is also a part in the christmas event where Victor thinks to himself he has sacrificed his human soul to death in order to get what he has now, and who has a song about doing business with poor unfortunate souls?

In this flashback translated by reccyls, I think we are witnessing the moment he's sacrificing his soul. He has a choice that'll impact him as a person greatly and I feel like it's safe to assume he's close to dying, so it'd make sense if this part of his life triggered a curse related to death. Also, his flashback says "the path of becoming the dust of history" which is another reason why I think Victor might have come from the slums, or at least not nobility. It sounds like Victor himself thought he had left no footprint on the world, which actually aligns with his character if you read the translation of Will saying Victoria knows Victor better than anyone till the end.

But I got sidetracked a lot. I think the comment Victor made about the queen in his birthday event is another micro-hint. I sometimes feel like I'm reaching like a clown trying to figure out if Victor isn't keeping up the idea the queen is still alive. It almost feels like having a gaslighting lover; am I picking up clues or am I picking up clowns makeup? Wouldn't it actually be a possibility for Harry to help Kate unreveal the mystery that is Victor? Because while they're not the most interactive dynamic, I feel like Harrison will at least have a little role in Victor's route. As I mentioned before, Harrison pointed out twice that Victor lies a lot: one time in his own route and the second time in the Christmas event. He goes a step further in the latter one, saying that if Kate takes the first step towards Victor's darkness, he'll open her eyes to the truth. Plus, Harrison already had his "when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth" moment in his route so I think it makes sense for the Sherlock lover who is a walking lie detector to play a role in the most mysterious suitor who is a walking liar's route.

The actual last thing I want to talk about (guess I'm a liar like Victor) I notice that in events wherein Victor and Kate are together, they declare their love in an interesting way. Since death seems to be a huge part of Victor that possibly is connected to a curse, the two put focus on loving each other even after death. I'm curious if this is part of Victor's possible fate or if this is just a romantic way of thinking that fits Victor's theme. Either way, I think it's perfect to end on this note.

So, I think this is mostly what I wanted to get out. Thank you for having read all the way through and please share any theories you have! And spread love for the people mentioned in this post because I'm eternally grateful for everything they translate and post🩷

[fatphobiabusters]

hello!! i love seeing your fatshion and fat art posts on my dash :]) they really brighten my day! how do you find these posts? I've gone back to the original source of them and they aren't often tagged with "plus size" or anything :o

Hi, I'm glad you enjoy the posts. I've created many strategies to find fat positive content on this website since, sadly, fat representation is very difficult to find.

The easiest strategy is to search popular fat positive tags, like "fatshion" or "fat positive." However, most people don't tag fat representation, and many fat-related tags are overrun by thinspo blogs, fat fetishists, and fatphobes.

Sometimes I search "plus size" and another word to try to find specific posts. For example, I queued posts with a Valentine's Day theme for Valentine's Day. One of the strategies I used for that was to search "plus size pink," "plus size red," "plus size lovecore," "plus size valentines day," etc. I have to get creative like this when trying to find content of specific groups of fat people. As another example, when I want to find content for fat Asian people, I may search "plus size hanfu," "plus size jfashion," "Vietnamese fatshion," and any combination of words involving fatness and usually either a specific cultural clothing or country. If I just use normal search terms, I likely won't find anything.

Sometimes I look at popular tags like "artists on tumblr" and scroll through hundreds of posts to find a single drawing of a fat person. Usually said drawing didn't use any tags for the fat representation. This strategy is extremely based on luck and will involve spending way more time before seeing any posts of fat people, but this is one of the few ways to find posts of fat representation that weren't tagged with words related to fatness. What I would give just to get people to tag their posts of fat representation, you have no idea. Even if no one else started drawing fat people, there would be a mountain of more fat positive posts to reblog if those posts were simply tagged in a way to make them possible for fat positive blogs to find.

Some tags are more likely to include fat people, like tags for Mermay. Fat people are barely represented, but some artists are willing to be slightly inclusive when drawing mermaids. The likelihood of size inclusivity also goes up with events like Mermay since some of the artists who participate will draw a different mermaid design for every day of the month. It's hard to not draw a single fat mermaid design when a person is drawing 31 mermaids.

When I find an old fat positive or fatshion blog, I'll usually comb through the entire blog for posts. Not only do I find posts that way, but I also usually find other blogs with posts I can also queue. This ends up with me going through a chain of old blogs and why you'll see us post content that was made anywhere from 5 to a whopping 12 years ago. I usually keep at least one post from each of these blogs in my queue at all times to remind me to continue searching the blogs for fat positive content. I've had some posts in the queue of Fatphobia Busters for two years because I keep them as reminders for what blogs I need to search. For every post we share, I try to thoroughly look through the blog of the op for any other scraps of fat positivity I can queue. This is another reason why some posts stay in the queue for months or years. Since fat representation on this website is abysmal, I usually only put posts at the front of the queue that were either made by blogs I've already combed, blogs that still have posts in the queue so I can search those blogs a different day, or if the post was queued by Mod Squirrel. I don't have a lot of energy to search blogs, which is why those posts stay in the queue for so long. That's also why you may notice certain blogs being posted a lot for a period of time—they're blogs I'm safe to post without missing any content I could have queued.

Tumblr has a pretty terrible search function, and I've basically never been recommended a blog by Tumblr that actually posted fat representation. However, the one helpful function Tumblr has actually been good at is the similar posts section called "More like this," which looks like this on desktop:

It's to the right of whatever post you look at on a blog. On mobile, it looks like this:

I looked at the same post for both of these screenshots. In the "More like this" (or "More posts like this") section, Tumblr will usually include other posts by the user, posts by other blogs who interact with the user, posts with similar tags, etc. etc. For whatever reason, I'll sometimes be able to use this Tumblr function to find more fat representation. As an example, Tumblr showed me the same grayscale drawing of a fat person in both of these screenshots. That drawing was posted by an entirely different blog and with no tags related to fatness or fat positivity at all, but the "More like this" Tumblr function is the only time that Tumblr realizes "Oh, for the past five years of running and modding for fat positive blogs, you've actually wanted to see posts of fat people and not all of the posts of thin people I've suggested to you all this time?"

Sometimes I'll try my luck with certain fandoms when I know the media the fandom is for actually has a fat character or if I know that the fandom is somewhat size inclusive. There are times where an artist who draws the media's fat character also has fat OCs or draws other fat people. For instance, I'll probably have more luck finding artists who draw fat people in the Magnus Archives fandom than I will in a fandom for a media that's very fatphobic or pretends thinness is an art style, like Hazbin Hotel.

If I find a fat person who posts selfies or photography of themself, I'll look at their tags to try to decipher what tags they use for posting those photos. They may have a specific tag just for their photos, like "my face," or they may tag all of their photos with a tag like "ootd," "melanin," "cosplay," "black girl magic," "lolita," "jfashion," etc. It's also important to make sure not to share any posts that have tags like "do not reblog." If a post has the tag "personal," I'll usually either skip it or ask the user if they're okay with the post being reblogged. This is especially important for text posts about fatphobia since sometimes a person just wanted to vent and doesn't want their post to be shared. Whenever I'm in doubt, I write a reply on the post and ask the op if they're okay with me reblogging it.

On some occasions, I'll see the url or tags of someone on our posts that makes me think they may have more fat positive content. When that is the case, I'll queue posts that a follower made. Said posts are usually selfies or text posts. Sometimes this means queuing a post they made about a specific product they sell on Etsy that otherwise isn't accessible for fat people, or this could mean queueing a well-written rant that they've okayed for people to reblog.

That's basically the gist of most of my strategies I can think of. You can see that running and modding for fat positive blogs involves a lot of work and strategizing just to find content. But you can help make it easier. If you:

Tag your posts of fat representation with fat positive tags

Send posts you find of fat people to fat positive blogs

Tell artists who draw fat people to tag their art with fat positive tags

Ask artists who only draw thin people to make their art size inclusive

Make posts about fatphobia and tag those posts with tags like "fatphobia" to make them searchable

Or even just reblog posts from fat positive blogs to help spread them and encourage those OPs to keep representing fat people

By doing those things, you help us a lot and also help more fat people see themselves in the media they look at.

If you do tag your posts for this purpose, I strongly suggest using more than just tags like "body positivity." That tag on Tumblr is full of mostly porn, thin people, and celebrations of weight loss, so I've given up on looking at that tag at all and would assume many other fat positive blogs don't use that tag either.

-Mod Worthy

[sonderfairy]

tell me, are you scared of that tag coming to the TMP fanfics? I am. I won’t ever write it btw.

There's probably a lot of things you could mean by that LMFAO.

But if you're referring to what I think you are, then yes, I've always been stressed over that possibility. I've already had to delete countless comments (on both the english and spanish versions) that weren't age appropriate, to say the least. I am very dedicated to making sure that The Moth Prince is appropriate for kids of all ages, and that includes the comment sections.

Luckily, I've never come across any fan content of the sort. I pretty much stalk the tags on every social media and keep track of TMP content I can find on the internet, mostly out of curiosity, and to get excited over fanart, but also for that reason.

And so, I haven't had to post any sort of warning, announcement, or official message telling readers what my boundary is on fan works, and I will continue to hope and have faith that my readerbase wouldn't cross that line.

However...

Since TMP continues to grow, I will use this opportunity now (before it's too late) to say, officially, and clearly, that I will have absolutely no tolerance for any r34-type content of my characters. To many readers, and especially to me, they feel like real people, and should be treated as such, with respect. First and foremost, they are minors, and I shouldn't have to explain why that would be problematic. And secondly, they are my characters—they are a part of me, and anything that crosses that boundary with my characters also crosses that boundary with me. Other creators may be fine with any type of fan content their fans make, but I withdraw my consent when it comes to r34.

If anyone is still confused or would like further clarification or explanation from me, you may absolutely ask (even if you're just curious and weren't thinking of doing that, like op).

Like I said, no one's done this so far, but by having this officially put out there, people can't claim they weren't aware of my position on the matter. And if anyone who reads this ever sees that sort of content, they know how I feel about it and can inform them to take it down.

So, that's where I stand. Thank you for asking. /gen

[lesboylycan]

[ID in alt text]

We reblogged it on our plural sideblog, yeah, although that post was moreso about specifically dissociation; we added a thing about amnesia in our tags since we have ample experience with not recognizing amnesia because it "feels normal" (or, in certain cases, not recognizing the true source of amnesia because of weird CDD denial shit). (We'll reblog this over there once we have the stuff we want to say here) (Link to context post)

We definitely get where you're coming from when it comes to the psychiatric application of diagnoses and CDDs specifically, but (so far as we can tell) this specific conversation is about self-identification and self-determination, not (necessarily) about how plurality gets medicalized by psychiatry. It gets a bit fuzzy when it comes to talking about CDDs, of course, but we think the post makes it fairly clear that it's about plurals identifying themselves as having or not having CDDs; from our perspective, it's a conversation being had within the plural community about how we label our experiences based on internal observations, especially since the OP states that that's what happened to them (which is probably why they made the post in the first place).

I think one thing that might help with some of the perspective on it is that pwCDDs often go through a lot of doubt and denial, and it can present in a couple different ways, especially depending on the communities they're in; (so far as we can tell) it's a defense mechanism from the brain to keep you from figuring out something's "wrong". For some, it's denial that they're a plural system; for others, including us, the denial wasn't about being plural, but about having a CDD, because we were in a community that was accepting towards non-CDD plurality.

I'm not saying that's wholly a bad thing, per se; obviously in some cases, it can and will be, but for us, we weren't ready to acknowledge and accept disordered-ness in our plurality, even if it was affecting our life on the daily. It was a "healthy" amount of denial that allowed us to still be people instead of a person, but didn't force us to confront something we weren't yet ready to face. (Ofc we were forced to face it anyway because of bullshit sysmedicalism surrounding polyfragmented plurality, but in an ideal world, we probably would've figured it out only in the past couple of months rather than in June when a bunch of other shit was happening all at once)

And like. To be clear. It was affecting us constantly on a day-to-day basis. We scored a 61 on the DES-II, our memory got so bad at points that we were scared we were developing early-onset dementia, and yet we never once spared a thought towards DID even though it was the simplest possible answer for us, specifically because of that denial factor. Early-onset dementia was an idea (deemed by the brain as) "easier" for us to handle than we have DID, against all logic, because the brain isn't exactly a logical organ. It's a big hunk of electrified fat that thinks and controls pretty much every single bodily function and then some.

You definitely have a point when it comes to disordered plurality in the public, singlet-centric eye, I won't deny that, and I doubt many people (who aren't sysmeds) would; but since it's a discussion being had specifically within the plural community about self-identification with being disordered, it makes sense (at least to us) why singlets and their perception of plurality isn't being mentioned--they're not in the room right now, it's an intra-community discussion about how we think about ourselves.

[hergan416]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

I was tagged by @leviathiane thank you for thinking of me 🥺 I barely even feel like a fic writer at this moment, even though I keep writing fic - I wonder what that says about me 😂

I will answer this across all pseuds, including my omorashi pseud.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

72 (what the hell? when did I have time to write 72 things??)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

277,511 I like statistics, so it's fun to me that that averages out to around 3850 words per fic. Nearly none (ok maybe 10ish?) of my fics are 4k words. Considering I have 18 fics under 1k and like 5 fics over 10k though - i see how this happened.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I am currently only really actively writing for Moriarty the Patriot, and I have previously been active in One Piece and Yugioh. I do have at least one fic from each of those two fandoms that I hope to come back to and finish, so I'm not fully out - just not currently writing there. ...I also have a pseud that exclusively contains a failed attempt at chronicling my magical kitties save the day campaign. There are other fandoms on my AO3 account but these are either alternate universes for my fanfic for one of those three fandoms, or archived tumblr meta analysis.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Well here is where the fandom bias comes in I think. Or... perhaps just that the small fandom I'm only consumed by very rare pairs. 5. Sanji's Respite (Rated T, cigarette smoke, platonic lawsan, One PIece 4. Shared Nightmares (Rated T, platonic lawbin, One Piece) 3. Doctor's Orders (Rated E, law/reader, omorashi, watersports, very inappropriate use of devil fruits (your organs be outside you now), D/s dynamic, One PIece) 2. Law's Introspection (Rated T, sequel to Sanji's Respite, please don't ask me how the sequel has more kudos than the first fic in the series, cigarette smoke, platonic lawsan, One Piece) 1. Conquest (Rated E, fighting marines as foreplay, competition, kidlaw, One Piece)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! I love talking in the comment section as a reader or a writer - it's so fun to talk about the characters we love, and fic is a good place to do it. There are so many smart fic writers out there too just UGH I've gotten so many cool reading recommendations, both original and fan work from my readers, and honestly those conversations are a major draw to actually posting at all for me. I am a little shy, but if you are in my comment section, it feels like it's probably ok for me to talk to you.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

If I didn't write alternate endings for the Emergency Contact series and consider this the alt ending the "true" ending, I'd say "Choke on My Words, Swallow Them Faster." (T-rated bad ending hanahaki fic from MTP angst week) -- SO many dead characters. But I think that the real answer should be "Lex Talionis" (E-rated katamar 'temporary character death' fic for OP).

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

This was fucking hard. I don't know that I write particularly happy endings. There are fics with resolved sexual tension. Fluff fics where things weren't ever sad to begin with. And a LOT of hurt and angst and badwrong. BUT I think I'm going to go with "Date Night" (Rated T, bondson, Moriarty the Patriot). James might get shot and there might be some tension because of it, but overall it's actually pretty hopeful and cute, the plot elements are treated pretty lightly, especially for me, and James & Miss Hudson are honestly pretty cute together, even if the world might not protect them and they know that.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I don't think I really get hate. I have had confusion/surprise before. I've had people who had wildly different interpretations of what I wrote than what I planned on writing. But never true hate.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Bahhahahahahah do I write smut. DO I write smut? It's not like 35 of the 72 fics are rated Explicit and another 14 are rated Mature. I write SO much smut al;kjdflk; I .. do not know how to succinctly answer "what kind." Unless you want like M/M & multi but ALSO there is a little het in my x reader stuff. There is a fair amount of more normal smut, a good amount of omorashi, and LOT of violent/consent violating/incestuous smut that is designed to leave you horny and uncomfortable about it.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Not usually as a rule but I do have a single true crossover between One Piece and Yugioh which is currently abandoned. I don't think it was particularly crazy, and it was my longest fic until Poison Paradise came around.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so. I don't know who the hell would be crazy enough for that tbh. I think if you are clout chasing you would choose something less fucked or more finished.

12. Have you had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yeah! I co wrote two fics for Sherly week this spring. @cawcawkarasu helped me with alpha reading and direction + art for the fashion prompt, and @vitya-nikiforova co-wrote the fic we submitted for the "indulgence" prompt (porn tea)

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Such an short, innocuous question. What the fuck. AHHHH NO don't DO this to me. Prideshipping, yugioh. katamar, one piece. FUCK don't make me choose just one moriarty the patriot ship - basically any combination of the moribros & holmes brothers that isn't mylock or sherliam could probably be a top ship. Willis? Alwill? Sherlilouis? Sherlouis? Something like that.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but you doubt you ever will?

Hahahaha jokes on you that's so many wips. I guess I'll just list the one piece and yugioh fics I'm still holding out hope for: Chronology: A Case Study (the tattoo kaiba fic LITERALLY HAD THE LAST CHAPTER WRITTEN FIRST WHAT THE FUCK HERGAN. JUST FINISH IT ALREADY), Exothermic - I have a grand plan and it would be great to implement but I just don't have spoons for One Piece right now. Honestly Seek and Ye Shall Find also - it would be nice but i've given up. Live Stream too - the coding is just too much for me even though I know a lot of how it goes. And actually there is a yuumori fic here too: Welcome to Paradise. I suspect that I'm not going to want to return to pregnant Albert very often, unless somehow I get pregnant a second time and feel like I need to write about that experience. LOOK YOU ASKED A CHRONIC NOT FINISHER OF FICS WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO SAY

16. What are your writing strengths ?

I think my writing tends to focus well on individual experience. I like to use physical sensation and limited perspective a LOT in my writing, and I feel like it is often very vivid and compelling.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Sticking with it when it gets difficult/I lose interest? And also probably just "happy moments." I definitely am not a great tooth-rotting fluff writer.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I don't mind the concept but I have had very little reason to do it. French would fit with the Victorians, but I just. am not a good French speaker. I don't think I would do it with any regularity.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Uhhhh fuck if I know. Lemme check FFN. Dear god. Uhhh I guess its a poem for something called "Midnighters"? I don't remember writing that tbh Or even what that fandom was.

20. Favorite fic you have ever written?

Oh damn I read this as "best" fic that you have written when I read your responses Depths, and I was like "oh I know that answer" but favorite? Ugh why are these HARD You know what. Poison Paradise is my pet fic and it has so many more words than any other chapter fic i've attempted. I really really want this to be the on that I finish. So let's choose that.

Thank you so much for asking. If you have gotten to the end of this or if you are @user-needs-new-hyperfixation @eternallaughter or uhh idk who else to tag right now I've been writing this post for nearly 2 hours now & feel like it, go ahead and do it too.

[bitterarcs]

Pretty sure I have this in my rules ( look at me being too lazy to just read them over ), but I don't tag specific things that may be too violent or 'upsetting' etc. I have the strong opinion that violent themes come with the territory. I think a lot of people tend to be distracted, or choose to focus, on the pretty characters and whimsy of the world. It's likely easier with characters that are not affiliated with ShinRa, y'know the hero types, however it's their suffering and trials which led them down a path of the good as opposed to that of the evil. The overarching message is that ShinRa is evil, but a lot of people just gloss over that. Sure, there were good or decent people with honorable intentions in the SOLDIER program, however soldiers are soldiers. I won't go into detail about that facet as I'm trying to get to my main point. While I do think every member of the Turks had their different motives and moralities to join such a department, I also believe that every member is malicious, at the very least bad, and most certainly evil. Evil is too often depicted as black and white when really, it comes in shades of grey.

If someone makes an argument about how this Turk character was actually good but chose to be part of the Turks for xyz reason, I'll hear it out. At least in my depiction and how Reno views all his comrades, they are bad at varying degrees. Why wouldn't they be? They're the equivalent of soldiers carrying out black ops — trained to the highest capacity in a wide range of skillsets, taking on discreet missions, doing the things no one else wants to do, cleaning up messes, carrying secrets, and YOU KNOW . . kidnapping, murder, interrogations, torture, and you can only imagine the rest. This is why I have such a bone to pick with AC. It really paints the remainder of ShinRa as clowns, more so with Reno and Rude.

There's no doubt they'd keep their heads down while as they try to build ShinRa back up, but they wouldn't be knocking back drinks with Cloud and the gang for shits and giggles. The very fact that they're too friendly is just bleh. There's the enemy of my enemy is my friend, but AC makes it seem like an episode of some cheesy action flick where enemies and friends hold hands as one. I'm more inclined to think that Tifa and all of em would want nothing to do with the Turks knowing the kind of shit they're into, and they wouldn't even know the entire picture.

POINT IS, the Turks are ruthless. Some more than others know to have a personality outside of work and enjoy life, but the work they do is intense. As fun as Reno can be, I don't play him like a clown 100%. When he acts the fool, it's to lift someone's spirits or it's an act. He's a proficient killer and perhaps unlike other Turks with dubious morals, Reno loves his job and is quite evil for it. I also depict Rude as equally loving his job and being just as evil but not so blatant about it. The other Turks have their own reasons and moral compasses, but Reno chooses to see them as like minded.

Also evil corporations are only made possible by the evil people who work for them and make their goals realities. Hojo and the ol' Pres weren't the only malicious people.

[blanketforcas]

Genuinely no hate, but I'm curious about your "morality contest" post in relation to that AI destiel kiss, considering you've called out people before for posting/reblogging AI art. What's the distinction that makes someone posting bizarre-looking AI stills of Dean and Cas unethical and weird, versus you reblogging that bizarre-looking video of Dean and Cas kissing? If someone made that in a program like Blender, we all win and we all rejoice. But having AI do it is just as shady as anything else AI does. Right? Am I missing something here?

hi! gonna take this in good faith. while i'll always (at least for now with how it works/its impact and it not being regulated) be against gen AI, when i called out AI art in the past, it was always about the fact that they weren't transparent about it being AI. i'll always find it icky in and of itself and i'll side-eye it, as i also do the video btw, but the bigger issue for me (from the pov of someone who is part of an online community) is when people try to hide the fact that it's AI.

the op of this video was honest about it, it's in the video itself. and it being a destiel kiss (which i'd personally never seen like this as part of the confession scene) evoked a strong emotion in me (watching it from afar/blurry eyed, cause i agree manip folks do it better) as clearly it did for many people. i can have principles and a moral code that i try to live by best as i can, but i can still get swept up in a fandom moment.

i also don't think this particular one takes away from real artists, it's doing something different entirely. it has a different aim, and for most people it is a bit uncanny. which, to get the opposite feeling, most fans do still seek out real art. so i don't think people reblogging this is gonna create some kind of slippery slope effect. if you look in the tags you can see most people struggle with this inner conflict, so i don't fear that just yet

[lord-squiggletits]

Actually one of my favorite instances of "people being dicks about IDW Optimus on posts about IDW/Optimus/MegOP" was when I saw a commentator claim with their whole ass "Megatron deserves better than Optimus" like.

Bestie.

Megatron killed billions of people.

He himself would deny the notion that he "deserves" anything bc he's incredibly depressed about wasting his life on atrocities and, by the end of the series, thinks wholeheartedly that submitting to a trial to give the galaxy its justice is more important to him than living a carefree life.

And even if you don't ship MegOP, Megatron speaks positively of Optimus multiple times and is happy, or at least more animated, whenever he speaks to OP.

It's just so funny to talk about "deserving a better lover" in reference to a blood stained imperialist who himself would admit to his own villainy and doesn't see himself as superior to anyone just because he was right once upon a time. Like bestie your own blorbo would not agree with your take that Optimus is just The Worst and completely unrespectable. So funny.

Actually wait no. My FAVORITE (and imagine I say "favorite" with intense scorn and disgust) instance of someone being a dick about IDW OP in a space about IDW OP, was someone commenting on an IDW MegOP multichapter fic-- clearly something the author must love and put a lot of effort in to write like 300,000 words about them-- to go "WHINE WHINE WHY ARE YOU WRITING IDW OPTIMUS HE SUCKS, MOAN MOAN NOBODY WRITES ABOUT IDW MEGOP BC IT'S BORING AND MEGATRON DESERVES BETTER, BITCH BITCH WHINE YOU SHOULD WRITE MEGAROD OR MEGSMAGS INSTEAD"

The sheer fucking entitlement of coming onto someone's IDW Megop fic to insult the character and ship they're writing about, then demand they write about YOUR favorite ship bc you think their ship is stupid and boring. Ough it was literally the worst thing I'd ever seen short of actively harassing and trying to get someone to quit writing (those instances weren't IDW OP related, just trolls being assholes).

Or the various times scrolling the Megop tag going "oh wow cool fanart :) " and then the tags are "this isn't IDW OP btw because he SUCKS ASS and I hate him." Or going "oh wow this artist makes a lot of megop let me check their blog" and seeing a seemingly innocuous post of them talking about G1 Megop, then out of nowhere they go "btw fuck IDW OP". Or just going on someone's blog bc they make cool content in general and seeing them go "IDW Megatron is so cool! [Sentences about why they enjoy him.] Also I think IDW OP should die in a ditch."

I kinda assumed that MegOP spaces would be safe, since y'know if they ship MegOP it makes sense that they like both characters? Plus, Megatron is sooo hated and there's so much discourse around him, but that means that Megatron fans probably guard their own spaces against hate and know what it's like to have their faves shit on constantly with tons of petty drama? NOPE literally met multiple IDW Megatron stans who would get so mad about people calling their fave problematic, then would turn around and go "lmao who would like IDW Optimus, no one likes him, I ship Megatron with dockworker or archivist OP because they're so much better than him. IDW OP is a fucking asshole I hate him." Like MMMMMMMM I kinda thought that in a space dedicated to liking Optimus/Megatron/Optimus and Megatron kissing each other, there wouldn't be people randomly shitting on the characters, but oh well. Just leave those spaces.

Well not to worry, I can always go to AO3 and look at fic, that's an archive site and not social media, and all I need to do is filter the tags to IDW Megop and I'll have everything I need!

>Fic 1: Tagged IDW MegOP, author says it's continuity soup with archivist Orion

>Fic 2: Tagged IDW MegOP. Archivist Orion.

>Fic 3: Tagged IDW MegOP. Dockworker Orion. The author thoughtfully includes a tag/author's note solely dedicated to talking about how IDW OP fucking sucks so they replaced him with a Better Optimus

>Fic infinity: Tagged IDW MegOP. Continuity soup with archivist Orion again.

>Fic infinity+1: Tagged IDW MegOP. Actually is about IDW Megatron and IDW Optimus. Posted in 2014. Has not been updated since 2018.

>Fic infinity+n: Tagged IDW MegOP. Actually IDW MegOP. I have already read them. Every single one. They were posted years ago. They were last updated years ago. The authors have long since gone to other fandoms, never to return and finish their fics.

>I give up and decide the only IDW MegOP fic I'll ever get will be my own.

So many times. <:) And that kids is why I don't talk to anyone else in the fandom unless they're mutuals or a friend of a friend. The fandom is small when you can't go looking for new, cool people any more bc seemingly all of them will randomly pop off about how much they hate your blorbo with no provocation at all.

[unknownfacelessfanfictions]

Part 3: To be near you

Pairing: Commander Tysess x Ophelia (OFC) Fandom: Star Trek Prodigy Words: 3.9K Warnings: SPOILERS for season 1 finale; discussion of death; blood and injuries Summary: A reminder that time is precious A/N: @bigblissandlove1 @akamitrani I believe I've read somewhere that you have not seen Prodigy, but I tagged you anyway, just to be sure. I also know that many people find it uncomfortable to read about animated characters, especially if children watch the show too. If you don't want to betagged in Prodigy stuff, just tell me.

Body Language Masterlist

Red alert.

The constant flashing of the red light hurt his eyes and the shrill wailing of the sirens made his ears ring.

It was over. They had survived it.

For a moment, Tysess allowed himself to close his eyes to take a breath and let the irony of it all sink in. The entirety of Starfleet had been saved, by a bunch of kids who weren't even Federation citizens.

At least, pretty much all of them.

And it was almost destroyed by you, whispered a voice in the back of his head, but he pushed it aside when Janeway addressed him.

"Any sign of the USS Protostar?" Tysess felt his antennae lower and turned to his console. "No, Admiral." Regretfully, he shook his head. "I've tracked their warp signature, but read," he hesitated slightly, the cruelty and harshness of the words not wanting to cross his lips "-no signs of life." Without hesitation, Janeway replied. "Send a search party."

Tysess felt as if he could not agree more. This crew had saved them. Granted, they had brought the ship here, but the massacre had hardly been their fault. But as first officer, he felt obliged to present her with the facts. "But, Admiral, the distance they crossed," he folded his arms behind his back and looked at the screen. "It would take months to scan that many star systems."

Janeway, however, was not swayed and straightened up, her eyes now on him. "That crew just saved Starfleet. If they're out there, I want to know." Tysess nodded and stepped behind her to order the lieutenant to send a message to Starfleet requesting permission for a search party.

All at once, one of the ensigns at the ops console spoke up. "Admiral, damage reports coming in." Janeway turned and settled into her seat. "Report." "Direct hits on decks five, seven and nine, the starboard nacelle is damaged and we have hull breaches on decks ten, thirteen and fourteen, as well as cargo bay three and the engine room, with four dead there, eight injured, five of them seriously."

She continued to enumerate the number of injured and dead, but Tysess heard little more, except the pulse in his ears, which accelerated many times over, within a few moments.

At the same time, however, he felt as if time had stopped. Hull breach in engineering. Four dead. Hull breach in engineering. Four dead. Hull breach in engineering. Four dead. Over and over again these words echoed through his head, followed by another thought. Ophelia was on duty. She could be among them. Ophelia was on duty. She could be among them. His head was too full to think and at the same time empty without any thought.

"Commander? Commander? Tysess!" He snapped out of his trance and stared at Janeway out of wide eyes, who looked at him anxiously. "I'm sorry Admiral, you were saying?" It took vast amounts of strength to force those words out and Janeway seemed to notice as she gestured for him to follow.

In the privacy of her office, she turned instantly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right, Tysess?" He straightened and jutted his chin. "Everything's fine. I apologise, for my lack of presence of mind."

Anyone else would have bought it. Janeway, however, knew him too well. "Nothing is fine. Something is bothering you. Talk to me, please!" Tysess expelled a shaky breath and looked to the floor before answering. " Engineering was hit and had a hull breach." "Yeah, I heard." He took a deep breath. "Ophelia was on shift." Silence. Then-

"You are relieved of duty, Commander." Tysess's head and eyes shot up and he could feel his antennae snap to attention. "Admiral, Starfleet regulations require that-" "I know what regulations require," Janeway interrupted him, crossing her arms behind her back. "However, I also know what it is like to fear for the life of the person you love."

"Admiral, it would be wrong-" "- if you had to continue working even though you are subject to such emotional anguish." Her gaze softened for a split second. "Tysess, you have been awake and on duty for the last twenty-two hours. And even though Andorians are physically superior to humans, even they must realise that at some point enough is enough. Go. That is an order."

He was silent for a few moments, words missing, before he bowed his head slightly. "Very well Admiral." He turned, but paused outside the door to glance behind. "Thank you, Admiral." A thin smile danced on her lips. "I wouldn't know what for. Now go!" This time Tysess didn't hesitate as he walked through the doors, across the bridge to the turbolift and stepped inside. "Deck fifteen."

While Tysess had never had reason to complain about the speed, the turbolift seemed agonisingly slow today. Each deck seemed to take longer to reach and every second he continued to spend in uncertainty about Ophelia's condition drove him mad.

Under other circumstances, he would have found this revelation most intriguing. Although he and Ophelia had known each other for some time, they had been in a romantic relationship together for barely two months.

He wouldn't claim to have much experience with romantic relationships, in fact he had only had two before, but the feelings had never been as strong before, not even after years of being together, as they were now for Ophelia after less than two months. All at once it hit him like a blow. He loved her.

He, Tysess, loved Ophelia Zubira, with all his being, as he had never loved anyone before.

For a few seconds he felt a warmth swell inside him as he realised this. Although they had both made it clear that they were romantically interested in each other and had done things that were common for couples, neither had so far uttered the word 'love'.

Abruptly, his joy fizzled out and horror, disbelief and dread began to grow within him. He loved Ophelia. Ophelia might have been dead.

He would have never been able to tell her how he felt. The fear, which he had been able to suppress for a few moments, returned stronger than ever and Tysess knew that any Andorian would have fled at the sight of his retracted antennae. They knew that every Andorian would not let the death of his mate stand.

The turbolift stopped and as soon as the gap was wide enough to let him through, Tysess slipped out into the corridor and walked with brisk steps towards engineering, which accelerated each time until he was running. He did not care that he was jogging, even sprinting. He didn't care about the astonished looks of the other crew members who had probably never seen him so out of control, however, Ophelia was the only thing that mattered at that moment, the only thing that lived in his head right now.

Only in passing did he notice the damage, which didn't even need a closer inspection to be seen. By now, as he rounded the last corner, his heart was pounding in his chest and the sight before him brought it to an instant halt. The security doors were closed. Engineering had been evacuated. Tysess slowly raised his hand as his nightmare scenario played out before his eyes. Ophelia, locked in the engineering, dying in agony.

He closed his eyes to put the images out of his mind when he heard his name and shot around. For a split second he had hoped, however the voice turned out to be that of an ensign who looked at him. "It's about Lieutenant Commander Zubira."

~**~

She's dead.

Ophelia pulled her legs closer to her body and buried her face in her arms folded over her knees to stifle her sobs as the same scene played over and over before her eyes. When the ships had started firing at each other, she had been in sickbay to repair one of the replicators.

The first hits had shaken the ship and Ophelia had been about to go to engineering to avoid the nurses and doctors, Noum was God knows where, when the next hit had hit the power supply for half the bio-beds. But as these had been needed and Ophelia didn't know what to do anyway, she had set to work and for the next twenty minutes had bitterly fought a battle against the power sources that kept failing before finally winning.

However, all the shaking and spraying of sparks had left her with some scrapes and minor burns, though nothing serious or life-threatening.

However, when Ophelia finally managed to get up to attend to her duties in other areas, the doors had slid aside and three lieutenants, led by Noum, who had apparently finally come down from the bridge, rushed frantically into the room shouting, carrying a person between them.

A person Ophelia knew very well and with whom she got on very well.

Commander Maira Baqri. Chief Engineer of the USS Dauntless, Ophelia's fire chief superior officer and a very good friend. She had been full of joy for life and every time that mischievous smile had appeared behind the yellow hijab, Ophelia knew that what was to come would either be the best experience of her life or a memory she would forever regret.

However, the strong woman, otherwise so full of life and bursting with energy, now lay on the biobed with severe burns and bleeding flesh wounds, while nurses and Noum, scurried around her as the Tellarite barked orders. "Maira." Her voice was only a soft whisper, however she could not bring herself to raise her voice as the lump in her throat knew to prevent it.

The next few minutes were nothing but a blur of movements, colours and shouts and the only thing burned into her memory forever was the long drawn out beeping and the soft cursing of Noum, which he only uttered when his medical skills were once unable to save his patients.

The memories brought tears to her eyes and for a moment she was tempted to wipe her face with her arm, but left it at that. Her arms, more than the rest of her body, were covered with small wounds and hurt a little, but she had refused to have them examined and treated. Noum had protested strongly, but he too had realised that it made more sense to look after more seriously wounded members.

Ophelia sniffled softly and wiped her eyes with her hands, which were also a little scuffed up, making it a little more painful, to wipe away the tears as her eyes fell on the PADD lying next to her on the sofa.

It was still open from this morning and the program to select holoprograms was still open. Ophelia had decided to introduce Tysess to her home in Colombia and had spent the morning searching for suitable and realistic programmes, only to find that none came close to the real thing.

Tysess.

Her sadness changed abruptly to pure fear and horror and a sob escaped her. Tysess had also been on duty, on the bridge, and so far Ophelia had heard nothing from there. That very morning, since Admiral Janeway had been declared unfit for duty, he had said goodbye to her as the highest ranking officer and promised her that they would be back on Earth soon. Now she wasn't even sure if he was still alive.

Ophelia tried to reassure herself by telling herself that she hadn't seen him in sickbay, but it didn't really help. After all, patients could still have been brought in, or his body could be lying cold and lifeless on the floor in a corridor.

Cold sweat of fear spread over her body and she jumped up. She didn't care if she had to tear the whole ship apart, but she would find Tysess.

Alive.

Ophelia didn't even bother to put on her shoes and ran over to the door on her socks, opened it by pressing a button on the panel next to it, and cried out softly.

Standing in front of her, breathless and filthy, sweaty with a small scrape on his cheekbone but otherwise unharmed, was Tysess, who had raised his arm to open her door with the code she had given him. For a split second they stared at each other in shock before realisation set in.

"Oh God!" Ophelia sobbed out, wrapping her arms around Tysess, who had rushed over to her in an instant and was holding her tightly against him, his arms wrapped around her waist, body pressed tightly against body, nose buried in her hair. "You're alive, oh God you're alive," Ophelia sobbed softly and felt them stagger into their quarters, the doors closing behind them.

She sobbed into his shoulder, which didn't seem to bother the Andorian as he continued to run his hands up and down her back and through her hair.

"I thought you were dead," he murmured and she could hear his voice almost breaking with tears. "When they said that engineering had been hit, I thought-" His voice broke off and Ophelia sobbed out again, pressing herself tighter against him. "I was so scared. The possibility of losing you too, after-"

Her voice broke off and her crying intensified before Tysess led her to the sofa so they could drop down, still pressed close together. Tears of sadness, anger, fear and relief streamed down her face onto his uniform top, yet he didn't care and just pulled her closer, pressing kisses to her forehead and just being there while Ophelia cried the sorrow of the last few hours from her soul.

"Maira is dead," she choked out after a while. "They brought her in and...and...there was blood everywhere and I...I couldn't do anything...I...I just stood there and wa...watched her die..." Another volley of sobs shook through her and Tysess pressed his forehead against hers. "It's not your fault." His voice was strained and Ophelia felt more than saw his antennae, which had dug into her hair earlier, twitch. "If anyone is to blame, it is me."

Through tears, she looked up at him in confusion. "Tysess, of what..." "It was I who gave the order to take the call. The call that ultimately subdued the entire ship and nearly sent it to its doom. I am the one to blame for the death, of every single crew member. I-"

His voice trailed off and with shock Ophelia watched as silent tears rolled down the usually composed Commander's cheeks. "It's my fault...mine alone...Please...forgive me... I'm sorry..." He broke off and sobbed quietly, making it Ophelia's job now to pull him close and, even with a tear-stained face, gently run her hands through his hair, careful not to touch his antennae.

"It's not your fault, Motema nangai. Anyone would have done the same in your place. You are not to blame."

Tysess shook his head silently before looking up. "I would never have forgiven myself if anything had happened to you. If you had died, I would have..." He did not finish his sentence, yet he did not have to. Ophelia knew what he meant and pulled him close again. "It's okay.... It'll be alright, Tysess."

"No," he pulled her to him so that she was almost sitting on his lap. "I would never have forgiven myself if you had died without me being able to tell you how much you mean to me, how much I cherish you and praise your presence."

Still with tears in her eyes, she looked up at him and smiled slightly. "You don't have to." For the first time in fifteen minutes, he broke away from her, only to frame her face with his hands. "Yes, I do have to. Because just the thought that one of us could die without you knowing how much I love you... It breaks my heart."

Ophelia's breath caught and for a moment all sadness and fear were forgotten. "You mean it? That you love me?" With a calf-eyed smile he looked down at her and rested his forehead against hers. "How could I not? You are wonderful, kind, beautiful, intelligent, funny, and so much more than I ever hoped or dared to dream. In all my life I have never loved a person so much and it scares me."

Ophelia laughed a tearful laugh and put her hands to his cheeks. "Then let us be afraid together, mi amor. Let us fear this love together."

His eyes widened. "You too?" She smiled and felt tears well up in her eyes again. "Like crazy." For the first time he smiled a wide, if too equally gentle, smile and leaned down slightly to kiss her. It was a long, intimate kiss, which told of the pain, fear and sorrow of the past hours, however, it was what they needed.

When they broke away, admittedly a little out of breath, they leaned their foreheads against each other for a few moments and could each feel the other's breath on their face.

"Will it always be like this now?" Ophelia's voice was low and barely audible, though she knew Tysess had heard her. He always heard her. "Will we only spend our time in service worrying about each other? Having to worry about the other getting hurt? Or even worse?"

He sighed slowly and moved away from her face just enough so they could look into each other's eyes. "Yes. But at the same time it means that in any situation we know that there is at least one person on this ship worth fighting on for. When we come back, wounded and injured there will be someone to tend to our little aches and pains. And even if one day, though I hope not, we have to hand over the other's coffin to the family, we can live with the certainty of savouring every moment. Because that's what I intend to do. To savour every moment with you" He looked up. "Are you in?"

For a few seconds she just looked at him, contemplating his face. Elongated shape with a pointed chin, sky-blue skin, eyelids dabbed with purple paint and pale lilac-grey eyes that looked at her with such love as she was not used to from people outside her family. Ophelia smiled softly. "Yes."

~**~

The next day, Ophelia and Tysess stood side by side in the shuttle hangar and looked at the coffins lined up in front of them. The previous evening, after some time, Tysess had broken away from her to fetch the first aid kit from her bathroom and, as promised, had dressed her wounds.

The rest of the evening consisted of lying in each other's arms and letting out the grief and fear in the form of tears, so that now there were no tears left to shed.

During the memorial service, Tysess held Ophelia's hand tightly in his and only let it go once during the whole two hours of listening to speeches, when Ophelia gave her speech for Maira.

She was nervous and grieving, however, she brought out the words she wanted to get rid of in a way that was worthy of Maira. In the end, she turned to Maira's coffin, only temporarily, as her faith demanded to be buried without a coffin, and gently placed a sunflower wreath on it, which she had woven herself that morning.

They were Maira's favourite flowers and she had loved it when Ophelia had made her a wreath out of them.

Like a queen's crown.

"May you find your peace, dear friend," was all she could whisper before she fled back to Tysess, who held her in his arms. Discretion no longer interested him, nor did some of the astonished looks they received.

At the end, Janeway stepped forward and gave her farewell speech, which brought tears to Ophelia's eyes again and Tysess pulled her closer. Together, after Janeway stepped aside, they watched as the coffins were carefully placed in transporters and then flown out into space to be delivered to the families of the deceased.

Gradually the gathering dispersed until only a few were left. Noum stepped briefly towards Ophelia, who was still standing there nestled against Tysess, and spoke briefly to her before he too took his leave.

"Do you want to go?" Tysess's voice was calm and composed, grounding Ophelia somewhat, at least enough for her to nod. Before they finally left, however, Ophelia was held back by the call of her name. She turned and saw Admiral Janeway coming towards her. Ophelia gave Tysess an assuring look, whereupon he let go of her and stepped back a little, but remained just within earshot.

"Admiral." "Lieutenant Commander Zubira. I wanted to offer my condolences once again. I understand you and Commander Baqri were close." Ophelia felt another lump forming in her throat. "Very close, ma'am." Janeway sighed slightly. "If it were up to me, I would like to postpone the whole thing and give you time to grieve, however, regulations require that I do so as soon as possible." "Admiral?"

Janeway raised her hand, silencing Ophelia before standing up at attention, prompting Ophelia to do the same.

"Lieutenant Commander Ophelia Celeste Zubira. You have served Starfleet for several years now and have proven yourself to be a trustworthy, responsible and talented officer. We have suffered many losses, including our Chief Engineer, who will be sorely missed by us all. Nevertheless, I cannot leave this post vacant." Janeway reached into the pocket of her uniform and pulled out a gold pin, causing Ophelia's eyes to widen.

"I am aware that the circumstances are not ideal and under others this would have been done in the presence of the other bridge officers, however that is almost impossible at the moment. Yet, I have a feeling that the most important ones are here."

Janeway's gaze flew to Tysess who was looking at Ophelia proudly and full of love at the same time. "Lieutenant Commander Zubira. It is my honour and my greatest pleasure to hereby promote you to the rank of Commander and Chief Engineer of the USS Dauntless. Do you accept the promotion?"

Ophelia's breath stopped as she looked wide-eyed at the gold pin in the Admiral's palm. She was torn. For one thing, this had always been her biggest tram. Being Chief Engineer had been the reason for her to join Starfleet and if that meant getting promoted, she wouldn't fight it.

On the other hand, it felt wrong somehow, like she was trying to replace Maira.

Her gaze flew to Tysess, who looked at her encouragingly, as if to say 'Whatever you want, I've got your back' and had to smile. No, she would never be able to replace Maira. Nor did she want to. However, she could uphold the reputation of her best friend and ensure that the ship she had loved so much could be in the best condition possible.

"I would be honoured, Admiral." Janeway smiled at her and took the blank Lieutenant Commander pin from Ophelia's collar, but paused and held the new, gold one out to Tysess then.

"Commander, would you care to do the honours?" For a moment Tysess looked surprised, but quickly stepped towards her and took the pin in his hand. His eyes fell on Ophelia and that one look said more about his feelings than words ever could.

"It is my privilege to promote you to Commander." Gently, he pinned the pin to her collar, smoothed out her uniform and took a step back, pride flashing in his eyes. "You deserve it."

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

@indignantlemur

[sleepydross]

"Perimortem"

Chapter One: Lone Digger Warnings: Extreme, detailed gore. Sibling abuse and, let's face it, extreme sibling disharmony. Death. Murder. Intrigue. Visceral horror, gaslighting and implied abuse.

Hi. Welcome to Chapter One. Do me a favor okay? Mind the content warnings, I'll try to do them comprehensively on every chapter. Mind the tags, if you want to find story posts easily, search 'Perimortem Story,' every post will have this tag. If you like my work please reblog I guess, I'd like people to read it. <3 Thank you. >>>>>>.

"I need to know where you're at on the information regarding Exro N'Tone and his Mistress," Nisal said. Malla blinked, a few times, and then chuckled.

"His Mistress is the least interesting thing about him," she replied, waving her hand. A holomonitor shifted aside, allowing her to look her sister in the eye. Houndite physiology being as varied as it was, her sister had four arms, and was using all of them to interact with various screens, her synthetic eyes darting in various directions. Admittedly, Malla was used to it, but understood why people found watching her work freaky. She got one eye to stare at, and that was generous in and of itself.

"Spill," Nisal said, absently.

"Exro isn't just fucking Janna Onie, from BioUltra, the lady third down from the top, he's also bottoming for Iko Kalavan, the secretary to the ceo of his competitor. There's shit going on there, and people are definitely being pumped for intel and then some."

"Fascinating. Formulate a strategy for acquiring proof and necessary supplementary intelligence, and operate underneath the sheets, little sister. I do not need a repeat of Kango Fortali's home."

"First off, that op went shitways because your dog squad crawled their asses in there itching for a throw down, and also, apparently weren't trained in proper curse ward detection and penetration," Malla said, and she regretted it instantly, as the older, taller houdite froze, all four of her eyes staring in different directions. One by one, she closed her screens and lowered her thickly muscled arms, each eye snapping in order onto Malla's face.

Nisal did not like having her own inadequacies thrown in her face.

"S-Sister, apologies. I grew too bold, and spoke inappropriately," she said, bowing her head, tensing her shoulder muscles for what was about to rain down on her. Her sister had made a mistake, and shit had rolled down hill, and desperate to please the only person other than their father who remotely mattered to her…

She'd taken the heat.

Bringing it up again was just, shitty… she made her own damn choice. She'd chosen to take the heat. She'd…

It felt like she'd chosen. Did she choose?

"Yes, of course," Nisal said. "And you took the heat, for which I am grateful."

Malla looked up, blinking. Her sister was smiling at her. Coolant ran in her veins, freezing her heart in her chest, tightening it all until she couldn't breathe. There she sat, frozen, eyes like iced over, unfocused. All four of her arms were stilled, her hands trembling quietly in her lap. It felt as if she'd been poisoned, as if this was a trick, as if the room was too hot and too cold, all at once.

Nisal just smiled at her, and it looked… it looked right, it looked genuine. It looked like a person's smile. Her sister only smiled at her when she did things right, and only smiled like that when she did things REALLY right.

"Why is your heart beating nearly three times as fast as usual - the left one, I assume your primary, right now," Visal asked, or said, Malla wasn't even remotely sure. "You appear afraid. Are you afraid of me, little sister?"

Click, clack, that sound of a revolver's cylinder being shut. Slow pull, now.

In the silence of a loaded gun, Malla opened her mouth, tried to speak, and failed.

"Little sister?" Nisal asked, tilting her head, hellhound like ears twitching from vertical for a moment.

Click. End of the slow pull. The hammer was back. Finger on the trigger.

Wasn't it?

"I… yes, I… I meant nothing, I meant no disrespect, Nisal. I… I meant nothing by that, I meant, i meant only to reaffirm what I will do to ensure you are not bothered, Nisal," she said, rapidly, and slowly - pausing lots, and then managing words in short spurts.

"Naturally, little sister. If I believed anything else I would be terribly angry," she said, softly, without a hint of venom. "Now, go get your team together, and get to work planning out the op. We need this intel, as fast as possible.

"Y-Yes, Nisal, ma'am. I will do so," she said, rising, bowing at the waist. "I will do my best for you."

"Yes, of that I am sure," Nisal said, chuckling. "Go on, make me proud."

Malla rose from her bow and turned, walking one footstep at a time because if she didn't do it manually she was going to collapse to the floor and humiliate herself. In the short hallwaylet to the door, she resisted the urge to support herself on the wall, and then passed through the door and waited until she heard it automatically close behind her before turning, and walking calmly away. That was all she had to do.

She had to be in control. She had to be calm. She had to be perfect. Every movement was measured and she felt her freedom come in the absolute focus on that perfect motion, on walking with her four hands clasped behind her back, staring calmly down her muzzle at the curving hallway ahead of her.

She hated the Al'lal'lix Structure, and emerging onto the lowest viewing balcony gave her a single moment of relief in the fresh, cool air ruffling her fur before she headed to the allistor moor. As perfectly as possible, as utterly focused as she could look, Malla swung her leg over the seat, settled in, and activated the clamps that closed on her legs. She let herself lay forward, then, the seat softening significantly until she was near horizontal, staring forward into the primary drawscreen, all but snuggling the vehicle's interior.

Her optic nerve interrupt hardware kicked in and her eyes went dead, and then the view from the primary cameras came in nice and clear. She pulled away, piloting the deft craft without an ounce of drift, signal resistance, or anything else. She had to gather the team.

She had to get the plans done. It was her third day awake, and she was fine. She was absolutely fine.

To some sandpounder far below, the sight of Neon Glass from an aerial position might have been breath taking, the cavern a full six hundred miles at the widest, three hundred and fifty or so at the narrowest, eight miles in height. Lightlace like what 'held up' the infinite stone ceiling of Hell ran in veins through the great pillars left in place when the cavern was bored over two centuries, as the city grew in around it. It had stood finished for over a century.

Pyramids and rivers of glass and light and steel hung from above and grew from below, the innersky a choked place of endless jet transports, cargo craft and civilian vehicles, a constant flurry impossible to navigate without an AR hookup and a vehicle connection to the primary transportation network - or a fuckload of skill and even more magic.

She had a high priority connection and was glad to only provide subtle guidance and basic organic judgement tasks - watching out for surprise obstacles and other vehicles, primarily, in case of emergencies. At the speed she was going, no one was going to entirely trust the AI network.

She didn't fly into the glittering glass sky, but down to the floor, between canyons of light and advertisements, past billions of people she couldn't bother to care about, because she had a job. She had a job, and she was useful, and she was especially useful to people with significant power in the real way in the city. That made her better off than half the fucks she flitted past and-

That line of thought was terminated as soon as she realized it affected her heart rate. Nisal, she no doubt, had access to all of the biometrics and monitoring systems in the craft. Calm was absolutely required.

Perfection was the name of the game, as she flew down into the primary access tunnel for the sub-chamber below, where the industrial district found its horrible, annoying home. They were scheduled to be moved into a more fitting location soon, but at that time, she simply hadn't proven herself valuable enough have a place in the main chamber. Intelligence Operatives were a dime a dozen and she had to be a dollar a dozen more before she warranted a glittering glass office or anything else - at least.

That didn't matter. Her craft came to rest on the rooftop of the building, and almost before the shell opened, the roof structure closed over her and the vehicle, to conceal its presence - all formality, the entire district area they operated out of was largely automated systems. They were dodging the prying eyes of botwatchers and other freaks, not other operators.

Operators.

She still hadn't been approved to work field things, she had to run ops from the sand splashing fucking…

Inside. She walked, her boots clicking quietly on the stone tiles of the rooftop, her body weak, her legs trembling and then…

She was inside. In that space, she was king, and she made the rules. She placed the bugs. She controlled every single thing, including the small bathroom on the first floor that was a complete blindspot including having a natural reason to block biomonitor implant signals. In that bathroom, with the door shut and one of the floor's primary thaumic field regulators in the wall next to her humming softly, she vomited up everything she'd eaten that morning, and then followed it with letting out a wracking, horrible sob. There, broken and alone, she huddled in the corner beneath the sink and thanked the stars that Jackos had kept his word on making sure the damned bathroom was clean.

It wouldn't have mattered if the spiders were still there. She was losing her shit, and she had to get a grip, and get a grip fast. The moment she entered the building, everyone was called from their labs, or called back to the building from wherever they were nested up to do their research, planning and softsliding and…

She had minutes, a counter on her visual hud ticking marks as her team made their way into the main building, a floor below, greeted their analysts and assistants, their personal subteams… and headed up to see her. She choked and sobbed, cried and threw up a second time, and then set to work. It was critical that everything was perfect. Every drop of vomitus cleaned up, every tear washed carefully from her cheek fur.

Her people couldn't know she was weak, couldn't see her being so. Any team of operators was only as good as their controller - which was why she wanted to get into field work, but the idea of killing, it was…

She couldn't let them see her weak.

Standing in front of the mirror, she peered at her rich black fur, long and thick in the relatively cold, climate controlled cavern city. She carefully dabbed at the still damp patches of fur until they were dry. With her kit, she reapplied the fur stain that shaded the red around her eyes, and then took only a moment to re-oil her mane and brush it out. Satisfied, she turned and opened the door, hands clasped behind her back as she walked down the short access hallway and into the top floor operations center. Outside of that room, it was all hellcrete and industrial steel. Inside?

Inside was sanctuary.

Damnatium laced meta-panels covered every surface, some custom cut and molded to fit over the minimal machinery in the room - it had once been a board room, before automation made industrial jobs in the sky a lot less common. Behind her, a panel slid over the door, adding extra meta-panels to block signals that might slip through the cracks. It was a dead zone, cold and signal free, and she couldn't even cry in there.

Her team awaited, and she looked to Green, the freshfaced imp with a penchant for knifework and a body small enough for the cramped vents used in high security facilities.

"Green, do you have the floorplan for the related areas of the building? And an actual location where this tryst is happening?"

"Sure do," he said, gesturing to Koka, a huge taurosi woman who looked as concerned as Malla had ever seen a taurosi look - and Malla didn't show a thing in response to that concern, because the few times they'd slept together was purely recreation, and she couldn't afford letting anyone close to her. It was a dangerous position, existing as the youngest daughter of the Vix Patriarch, CEO of one of the most prestigious private security and intelligence gathering operations corporation in that section of the city.

It was a dangerous position if she fucked up. Anyone near her would go down so hard they'd hit the sand before they knew what was happening.

"Got 'em. Had to punch a few holes in a fellow, but he won't be talking," she murmured, discontentedly, as if something about the plans made her uncomfortable. Standing around the table, they waited as she slid the slickstick into the port. Their command table's holoprojector kicked on, and displayed a squat, five floor rectangle.

Malla raised an eyebrow.

"He's… fucking another CEO's… secretary… in a prefab industrial building?" she asked, slowly.

"The location comes straight from Nisal's personal penetration team, so, I guess so," Green said, but it was clear he too was somewhat unnerved. "Same model as ours. Standardization gone mad, I guess."

"I guess," Malla murmured, glancing to Xees, a succubus with at least enough hound in him to have a tail and ears. "Let's get on with this. Xees, what have you found out about the location?"

"So far, not much. Getting scans from the structure was impossible, that whole zone is high yield fucking bugged. I got coords, right? But the access tunnel was blocked off, locked down, one of those access-only-during-certain-hours sectors - dangerous high value manufacturing. I couldn't fuckin' get in, access is guarded when open.. I had to buy this off Kekel in the Whisper Market," he confessed, sighing, and he too stuck his slicky into a slot. The building's hologram exterior was peeled away, highlighting rooms in an identical layout, one they were all absolutely familiar with. Standardized buildings had been all the rage when the city was just being built and its industrial zones were bored out - they were fast, cheap, and made of nice and sturdy hellcrete.

There was still something surreal to plotting their entrypoints and planning an op on an identical structure to their own, but… at the same time, it wasn't as if they didn't know them well. What became bothersome was when Xees keyed up his data, providing them with thermal and thaumic scans of the building, arcanametrics profiles of the structure, and so on.

Their building hologram replicated itself into a total of three, which formed a pyramid that slowly rotated, showing the thermal, magical, and acoustic hotspots in the structure.

No one spoke. No one knew what to say. They all just stared, confused, knowing each other's habits and where their workspaces were, where the loud machines were, and they could see the building there were staring at was not merely a copy of theirs, not merely standardized…

It was theirs, down to the notes suggesting a command holotable on the top floor due to heat and acoustic data, and significant signal and thaumic shielding and…

"Boss," Xees said, good and slow. "What in the sand is this shit?"

"I don't know," Malla replied, that cold, frozen feeling returning, slowly. "I… I don't know. It looks, it appears… to be our building."

"It doesn't appear to be, it fucking is!" Green shouted, slamming her hand on the command table. "They're burning us."

"My sister is not burning us," Malla said, shakily. "S-She was pleased with me, she-"

"I do not have time for you to be psycho about your crazy asshole family," Green spat, pivoting and opening the cabinet where they stored the shotguns. "I'm sending an alert signal to the folks downstairs and our techs and shit, we all have to split. This is fu-"

Malla actually couldn't process things, for a few seconds. The huge taurosi woman stood there, arm extended, hand on the door - but a thick gray plate of something silvery-gray (enchanted bonesteel, Malla realized dimly) was just… also there, and then… it wasn't. The sound it made coming out was louder than the horrible THUCKSNAP of it punching into the building, this awful grinding noise that lasted less than a tenth of a second.

Green still stood there, just… unmoving, until her knees buckled and she went down hard, arms limp at her sides. When she fell sideways, the upper half of her head rolled wetly off, squirts of hot red blood still jutting from cleanly cut veins.

"GET DOWN!" Malla screamed - but Xees was already on the floor, crawling towards the corpse and then over it. He reached in, managed to snag the sidearms stored in the bottom, and rolled onto his back, head on Green's stomach as the blood from the eight foot tall woman's body spread slowly outward. Occasionally, her legs twitched. One of her arms shifted.

Her mouth opened, at least once, and then just stayed open. Malla didn't even notice the sidearm sliding towards her, she didn't hear Xees shouting at her…

Her eyes drifted left, to Koka, the only one in the room who had ever seen her cry, the only person in the entire world she felt like she could call a friend. Koka, a bullfaced taurosi, was typically less facially expressive than most, but…

But Malla had, had seen her face, learned her face. She dreamed of her, sometimes, half of the time they were nightmares at the end, where some fuckup got the Taurosi killed.

Koka was staring at her forearm, confused. Blood squirted in time with her heartbeat, because that forearm ended about an inch from the elbow.

The houndite heard her confused question, the last words she'd say, through the ringing of adrenaline and terror, and then it all went to white noise again.

"How come?" Koka asked, anything but innocent, but baffled and nearly childish with terror anyway - and then a three foot wide plane of metal slammed through her, just below her shoulders. Both blades, the lower one having cut halfway to her spine through her side and stayed there after severing her arm, retracted rapidly…

And Koka was gone. Just like that.

Just… gone.

All she heard was ringing. All she smelled was the growing stink of blood iron. All she…

She had never pulled the trigger on anything but paper targets, she'd never… she'd never seen someone die, not up close. Sure, her job had her eat her fill and then some of photographs of horrible or gory deaths. She'd seen videos of enhanced interrogation, but… she'd not watched any more of wetwork done on her orders than she had to, she…

"-SNAP THE FUCK OUT OF IT," Xees barked, in her face, on all fours in front of her - and she heard that THUNKSNAP, felt a whisper of air moving over her head. He went rigid, eyes wide. His right pupil dilated, blood trickling from the corner of his eye as that very orb wandered off to the side. Red splattered from his nose. His mouth fell open and hot red flooded out of it, splattering on the floor, speckling her face.

On all fours, he was sliced from ass to the tip of his nose, his head raised. The blade ended inches from Malla's face, a wide, flat chisel tip. His eyes widened at her, and then rolled back.

The lower half (including his belly, arms and legs) fell, and she stared silently at his severed insides, as the half-digested food in his split stomach burbling, running out into the tissues around it, his kidneys left above the plane of gray metal above her, and half his heart still throbbing, reacting to some latent impulse even though his brain was, as far as she could tell, largely gone.

The grinding came again, that horrible, loud, utterly rapid withdrawal, and his back and the top of his head splatted down onto what remained of the lower.

Malla was screaming, incoherently, crawling in terror to the corner of the room. She could taste him, all that was left of him, in her mouth - his blood, in her mouth. She threw up, again, curling into a ball and breaking completely, sobbing as the room was perforated over and over, as other agents were forced into the room and diced to pieces, or ran in shouting about incursion.

It was like being trapped in the corner of a blender, and something downstairs was forcing them up into the grinder, gunfire cracking and turning the horrible sound of this new blade weapon into a kind of underlying beat to a symphony of death.

The sound, very suddenly, stopped. Malla clutched her pistol, hands shaking so bad she couldn't have hit someone two feet in front of her - and then… the roof access hallway door opened, the panel sliding aside. Her sister stepped in, in plain black pants, a plain black shirt, and a standard company vest.

Malla tripped and stumbled over the corpses of people she had known, had worked with, for years. Past the carrion field, soaked in vital red and sticky with it, she barreled into her sister, wrapping her arms around the woman.

"N-Nisal… thank the Lucifer… we, I don't know, we were made. You, you got here just in time, I just… I-I don't know how… I don't-"

"Shhhh, little sister," Nisal said, drawing her sidearm. "You're annoying me."

Malla barely had the time to register those words before the pistol pressed to her unarmored stomach and pain filled in the gaps between horror and trauma with a BANG! She staggered back, confused, sick, and pressed her hands to her stomach. They came away even slicker, even redder, and in a panic, reacting on animal instinct, she frantically tried to cover the holes, before sinking to her knees.

"You're pathetic… utterly broken. Lacking rage, lacking hate, lacking malice. Weak insects have no place in this family, and as our father dies tonight, you fucking pathetic freak, I will have no further concerns to my name," she said, with such calm, such terrible satisfaction. She smiled that same loving, beautiful smile, but now it was… twisted - or was it the same? Malla felt twisted, writhing in agony on the floor, her life leaking out all the new holes in her torso. "Goodnight, little sister. Don't take it personally. You just weren't made for being in my life."

Malla tried to raise her arm, fire her pistol, do anything - but Nisal just stepped forward, ripped the pistol out of her hand, and returned to the wall beside the door, shutting it.

"No signals, no distress calls. I'm going to watch you die, little sister," she murmured.

Malla would take time… so much time…

Time to bleed out, time enough to roll away from Nisal, to stare out over the entirety of her life. A room full of corpses she'd been… friends?

Did she even have friends? It was a room full of corpses, and all of them died to save her, and she could only best describe them as colleagues. It dawned on her she didn't… know most of their lives, their families, anything about them. The less that intel operators knew about each other, the better.

The room was a monument to everything she was - the corpses of disconnected strangers, piled up at her feet for the crime of simply working with her.

"P-A-T-H-E-T-I-C," a soft, androgynous voice said, right in her ear. Nisal said nothing. Malla rolled, panting blood into her mouth, and found herself staring at a metallic face made up of tiny, mirrored tiles that floated strangely in the vague shape of a head. These tiny little tiles flooded in and out of a dark, strange robe… and in a hand made of steel that looked like an ancient mechanoprosthetic, it held a small pistol. This creature's face, the tiny mirrors of its 'skull,' were disorienting. They made it hard to think. Her eyes darted to its armament. "What, this? Look at this, instead of my face, idiot."

It brought the weapon close to her face, showing her the frame of glinting damnatium-steel, black and smooth, with an inlay of bonesteel. It opened the cylinder, and pulled a round free - it was copper jacketed, but with some odd kind of polymer-

It was not polymer. Frost coated the bullet in seconds, leaving only the oily, almost black tip untouched.

Nithilite.

A reaper.

"Bingo, fucknuts. I am The Thing You Can't Defeat of the Seven Deaths, and this is my friendly pistol, Charon," it said, chuckling, mirrors jittering with the sound. "Stare at the pistol, and think to me, or your asshole sister will hear."

Malla blinked, wondering if this was an actual reaper, or DMT.

"Fuck off, idiot, arachite don't get Deathdreams, you get Purgatorium Walks. If this was fake, you'd be in the woods already. See any fucking treeeeees?" it asked, sarcastically. She looked back to its face, and then back to the gun, wondering if it would use it. "Yes, I will, you dense bitch, if you don't want a chance to get revenge."

The dying houdite scoffed, wetly, choking on her own blood. Revenge?

She was pathetic.

"Yeah, you are, but you don't have to be. You can live… if you're willing to do something for me. There's this, thing, let's call it a disease… and a few people managed to exterminate it, a while back. It's funny, cause I sort of… liked it, it's a gift, you know? I'm a giver, like that," it said, its tone warm and slightly nasally, strangely accented though it was. "Drink their blood. Suck down the muck and shit and slime, kiddo. Drink it in, like a fuckin' FREAK!"

Malla stared at the gun, still, but furrowed her brow. It was getting kind of hard to see, or… maybe to process what she was seeing. Pain was… complicated, and whether she was in any, mysterious.

It told her to drink the slick liquid she laid in, her own blood, the blood of fallen friends, messes of organ fluids, digestive contents. It must've been fucking crazy.

"Rude, and unnecessary, and… I can go, if you want. Like, you can die, I'll just sorta do the spooky shadow thing, all that. You'll forget me, die… whatever. Or you can do me a favor, and become a monster. Do it, and do it quickly. Drink the deathmuck, spyling. Suck down the blood and death of all the horrible people that you barely know. Drink the blood of warriors who did your dirty work."

Why the fuck would she do that?

It swooped in close, and whispered in her ear, "because you've lived your whole live sucking fucking boot, and what happens next is going to change… everything. It will suck, oh yes, fucking MIGHTILY! But, you will get to live. From there, it's all up to you. Transmission of this, hm… disease, is not easy. I'm excited to see if you choose to pass it on."

Malla rolled over, struggling herself up onto all fours.

"Come on, do it. Do it, do it, do it. Drink this gross shit and take my gift, my infection. Drink it, you pathetic fucking idiot, you used little thing. Drink it, and for fuck's sake, be INTERESTING!" it shouted, laying on her, weighing almost nothing, a whisper - but she felt its face, near her ear, mirrors drifting through her mane. "Become something more than the tool these fucking FREAKS made you, or I'm going to shoot you in the fucking head and wash your memories out and shove you back into the coil all over again."

Koka's shoulders, neck and head had somehow, in the chaos, landed upright amid piles of meat that used to have faces and homes and habits and-

Koka's empty eyes stared at her, and Malla realized she didn't know a god damn thing about the woman beyond the sounds she made in bed and how efficient she was at her job.

She got low, drove herself down, and lapped at the blood and shit and death. It was like a fucking ocean, her former colleagues were diced so brutally, so completely. She swallowed it, choking on it, trying not to throw it back up.

"Atta girl… drink, drink, drinkity drink… suck down all that death. Do you taste the gift, yet? It can take some time to kick in. Come on… more, more, more!" The Thing You Can't Defeat howled, in her ringing ears, its voice immaculate and clear despite that she could hardly hear Nisal when she spoke.

"What are you doing you fucking loser?" her older sister demanded - and, frantic, Mala slurped down more. She choked less on every swallow, and the nausea dimmed until she lapped it up like a dog, like a beast, her muzzle caked in clots and gore. "You've really gone insane? Sands and fire, little sister, this is so embarrassing. You honestly do not even know. Dumping your body right into the pools? It'll be a fucking relief."

And then Nisal shot her in the back of the head - twice, to be sure.

[quetzalpapalotl]

Thoughts about ROTB

I expected an action blockbuster and I got an action blockbuster. I am neither dissapointed nor pleasantly surprised. It's not something I would have bothered to watch much less drag my friends if it weren't Transformers, but under those expectations, it's a perfectly enjoyable movie.

Well, let's talk about what I care about most: Optimus. I was expecting him to be angry and jaded from the trailers and he was. I do kinda like that since he was given a reason to and he became his more gentle self by the end. I mean people looked at the camera to explain his deal which is eeeh, but I don't expect subtle characterization from these thigns, so it's fine. At least he was given something compared to mostly everyone else who didn't get much in terms of character so I can't complain. I do like that he blames himself for everything and externalizes that, reminds me of IDW1. What was a bit jarring for me is his disregard for humans, I don't mind an OP that's violent or angry, but an OP that doesn't care for all life is eeeeh? Well, I guess they needed to give him an arc and he gets over it, he was having a rough time. I liked him pleading to Noah instead of blasting him. Also him being like "I'm going to do extreme acts on violence on Scourge" due to him killing Bee. When he rips off Scourge's head spine included that was sexy. His seriousness was effectively used for comedy so that was nice. I feel I still would have liked something different but eh, what did I expect, really. It's fine.

Noah was good too, again no subtle characterization here, but he wasn't an annoying protagonist or anything. He was fun to follow and I like how he inmediately volunteers to go look for the transwarp key.

Mirage really was the highlight of the movie, he was so fun. Oh I love him. His interactions with Nova were great. My friends were shipping them.

Primal was nice. So was Elena.

Wish Arcee had gotten more, and I wish Rhinox had gotten actual lines, but ah, the movie barely had time to do all it wanted to do. Sucks because I feel like if we had gotten more of Bee and Optimus, his death and Optimus reaction to it would have been more effective, there really weren't particulary interesting dynamics. But I mean, at least they cared to try to endear you to the characters. I'm told by my friends that this was was better tahn Bayverse and Sam Witwicky. But I feel Bumblebee with its more contained story did better in this regard.

Ironically, even tho I was the one who cares about Transformers and asked my friends to comes, they are the ones who watched the Bay movies while I haven't.

Bee should have stayed dead. I mean, I knew he was coming back because trailer, but he should have stayed dead. It did make me sad that he died and reviving characters feels so cheap to me. Also, it would have confirmed that this isn't the same universe as Bayverse.

Like seriously, what's the status on that, this is very important, how do I tag this movie in my continuity tags???

Nice that they bothered to say the aliens aren't the cause of all the things pre-colonial did. I mean, the bar is on the fucking floor for this sort of thing, but yeah

Friends asked if the Inti Raymi was legit or if this was a James Bond Día de Muertos sort of deal. It seems part of the Inti Raymi celebration takes places in the Sacsayhuamán ruins were the Autobots arrive and were completely empty.

Anyway, I likes the action!! I loved the transformations so much, they were extremely sexy. Friends say that they likes these designs better, but the action wasn't as bombastic as the Bay movies and the CG wasn't as well integrated at times. But honestly it was all good enough for me. I have no complaints. That time Mirage transformerd to turn around while on the car chase, ah, so good. I really would watch this again just to see the robots move.

I.... was not expecting G. I. Joe

[dizzybojack]

on penny and bojack

Recently replied to a reddit post about penny and bojack that was basically trying to pin most (if not all) of the blame on Penny for what happened after her prom. This was basically my reply (edited for tumblr). Also if you find my reddit, no you didn't!

Spoilers below.

The first time I watched this episode, I also thought that Penny was being stupid during this part and was partially to blame for what happened. She definitely needs a little lesson on taking a "no" and consent, but I came to realize that Bojack was also, once again, being selfish and wrong during this storyline. Remember, Penny is JUST over the line for sex with a major to not be considered statutory rape. Bojack at the time is in his 50's. That's pretty disgusting. I concede, Penny definitely shouldn't have kept pushing and accepted Bojack's no. Her behaviour isn't excusable either and shouldn't be simply written off, but we have to keep in mind that Penny is only 17. She isn't aware of the implications of this sexual encounter. She clearly needs to relearn a bit about consent and accepting rejection, but she is a TEENAGER and the fact is that she shouldn't be in this position in the first place.

Bojack isn't stupid. When he dances with her on the top of the water tower and tells her she looks like her mom, he knows he still has feelings for Charlotte. He knows his history of sleeping with younger girls that he is a father figure to (ie: Sarah Lynn) and making terrible shitty decisions. [OP said] it was common sense for Penny to know where this would go, because Bojack has a crush on her mom, but Penny didn't know that at the time. In fact, I would flip it around and say that it's common sense for BOJACK to know where this is going to go. Bojack knows that he still wants Charlotte, he knows that Penny is young and vulnerable and willing. And very similar to her mother, as he says on the water tower. He knows his history, his feelings, his recklessness better than anyone.

I also don't believe Penny was ever "playing the victim" or trying to ruin Bojack's life. We see when Bojack goes on the bender with Sarah Lynn that Penny almost has a panic attack when she sees Bojack. One of her first questions is, "Did you come to find me?" It's heavily implied that Bojack literally gave her a panic disorder. And this is all without even being able to see how Bojack has affected her relationships and ability to trust people! Bojack was a father figure or at least an older man that Penny looked up to and trusted. I'm sure him wanting to have sex with her has affected her future relationships and caused her to be deeply mistrustful of anyone who shows interest in her.

Although he refused the first two times, that's just proof that he knows how fucked up it is when he eventually accepts. He knows he shouldn't and he knows exactly how wrong it is, and yet he does it anyways. There is no excuse for this. If Bojack weren't so self-centred he would have gone straight to Charlotte to tell her what Penny had done immediately to make sure it doesn't happen again. But he doesn't, because he's selfish and a coward. He wants to stay here longer, please, just a bit longer, away from LA and from the mistakes he's made and the people he's hurt and the consequences of his actions.

If anyone disagrees or wants to discuss anything I said, please do. I've lately come to realize more that Bojack is actually just a really shit person as a whole (not to say he can't be redeemed or he isn't deserving of love) so this post is more Bojack-negative. Will tag Bojack neg with #bojack neg so anyone can mute if they don't want to see it.

[phvntom-limbs]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @scary-monsters <3 ty ily

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 6! One for The Witcher and 5 for JJBA.

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 6,498 <3 So few!!! For now <3

3. What fandoms do you write for? JJBA, One Piece and maybe a few others in future. Buuut mostly those two right now. Even if the OP shit is unreleased. And Resident Evil!!! Hopefully soon.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Well this is sorta easy with only 6 works in total. BUT. His Sweet Kiss (Geraskier fluff), Letters from a lover (compilation of short letters from characters), If I could be with you tonight (Gyro angst), Ties that Bind (Dio fic...... that I uhhh,,, haven't continued. Whoops) and Phantom Pains / Fleurs Captives (Diabeth angst) !!!

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes! I do try to! I don't get them very often, mostly because I'm only recently getting back onto writing platforms. But I do try to. I like people who enjoy my works to know the support is appreciated.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Definitely Phantom Pains. Out-of-the-blue Diabeth angst ending in grief and regret... I do love writing angst and I don't shy away from sad endings either! Although I do love a good happy end too <3

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Speaking of.... His Sweet Kiss is definitely the happiest one, at least so far. My lost-to-time fics from the Wattpad era weren't exactly happy, so I think a fluffy mess like HSK is the best right now.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not yet. Yet. It'll happen eventually I'm sure.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I do! I have yet to publish any of it, though. Mostly because I am incredibly picky when it comes to smut, and by extension incredibly finicky with my own smutty works. As for what kind? Ah... a mix.

10. Do you write crossovers? I don't. I don't even think I'd necessarily consider it for anything other than a crackfic.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I have not! But I have had people copy my writing suspiciously closely.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I have not, but I would be honoured if someone offered to, and I hope that at some point I'm fluent enough in another language to do so myself.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I have not. I'm semi-open to the idea of it, but also... kind of sounds stressful.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? Ahhhh..... Geraskier held my heart for a very long time. I'm also a YenRalt truther, though. I struggle a little to compute ships nowadays but I think Dinopants is really fun. and Satosugu.

15. What’s a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? Oh god, the Dio fic I started and then never continued. It was meant to be a look into Diabeth over the years but I changed a lot of things since I started it, so I may have to scrap the whole thing and restart.

16. What are your writing strengths? Description. I love describing things and spaces and people more than anything and I think that love has lead to a lot of practice. I can be a little flowery at times but I don't particularly mind it. It's not for everyone, though.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Dialogue. I never know how much to have people say or not say. It's something I need to practice. On the flipside, sometimes I have characters say too much and then I completely neglect action. I just need to get better with it all-round.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I do it! And I respect other writers who have the balls to do it (and potentially cock it up). I tend to check, and double/triple check it.

19. First fandom you wrote for? If I'm being honest it was probably Skullduggery Pleasant, back before I even knew Fanfiction was a thing. And I read it out in front of my class at the time. I think I was about 10.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? Honestly? Every since I wrote Phantom Pains it's been my pride and joy. I really love my use of description and imagery and tone in that one specifically. I just really love it.

I don't have anyone to tag.... that Kat didn't already tag. So take this as a free ticket to join in should you wish to <3

[missbaphomet]

I want to preface this by apologizing for the length and oversharing. I don't know where to turn to.

I'm not someone who uses social media often. But I saw a post here not long ago, and the mentality in general, of legalizing hard drugs and safe drug use. I'm...Upset.

I'm in a situation with a loved one where the relationship is crumbling(in my opinion) because of addiction. I cannot speak to then about it or they get aggressive and/or make abilis, and it's genuinely, deeply upsetting because it's changed them so much. I don't know what to do.

And seeing Tumblr and the News enabling drugs is upsetting greatly. I understand how terrible addiction is, I don't think it's at ALL easy to overcome. People with addictions need support, but... All I see is enabling their lethal addictions, and any hope I have for helping my loved one out of their addiction that's ruining our lives is withering. So many of these people boast about their addictions, and it crushes my hopes.

(If you could potentially answer this anonymously, like...In a post addressing me as...I don't know, 'AAA', or something, I would sincerely appreciate it...Only if you're okay to answer it, that is. Thank you.)

Don't worry, you turned Anon on when you sent the ask.

I completely understand. My grandmother smoked and it took her from me in 2016. She never got to see me graduate, she never saw me come out, she won't see me get married one day. And if that weren't enough, she had thrown out all her ashtrays and the cigarettes she kept in the freezer days before she died.

Addiction is a horrific thing, and it's incredibly difficult to have someone you love going through it, especially if they themselves won't admit it.

However, this is where I think criminalizing people with hard drug addictions is a double-edged sword. The people who are addicted to drugs are sick. Addiction is a disease, and often, people who turn to drugs have done so for less than healthy reasons. These people need treatment and a safe environment to get clean in, which is inaccessible for a variety of reasons, at least one of which is fear of getting in legal trouble when trying to recover. I have always favored a rehabilitative approach over a punitive one, and I feel that people with addictions should be able to get help quickly and easily, and do so with the confidence that it won't backfire if they seek help.

I absolutely empathize with how upsetting it is to have someone you care about struggling with addiction, but don't destroy yourself fixing someone else. There comes a point where you have to prioritize yourself. Don't be afraid to do so.

As far as drugs on tumblr, report what you find, block the OP, and unfollow any tags drug shit appears in. I know for a fact a lot of meth users use '#crystal' or '#crystals', so those tags should be blacklisted. '#clouds' is another common tag for any smoked drug, most commonly meth and weed. It's probably safe to blacklist '#mushrooms'. I would also make an effort to blacklist tags found on drug posts, as there tend to be a lot of specifically drug related tags that use their slang. If you find something crosstagged (ie someone posts about drugs in a completely unrelated tag) absolutely report that to tumblr, as that is considered spam and against ToS.

I wish you the best.

[panick-pixie]

anyway I have CoD brain worms so here's a blurb I originally posted on Twitter. original idea here, thanks to the op for letting me take this and run.

Ghost x some proper fucking dental care

Contents: Price is a father figure, talk about dental care, nothing too serious, Ghost is a big ol stubborn baby, Price's love language is acts of service, NOT ship please don't tag it as that, this one is platonic and familial.

The conversation started when an overconfident new recruit made a snide comment about "British teeth" and Soap had to stop Ghost from beating his ass. He ended up having to see Price to report what happened and that's when the Captain found out that Simon hadn't been able to go to a dentist regularly at no fault of his own. So Price decided to take it upon himself (and his wallet) to get Ghost some proper dental care.

The first visit, Price didn't tell him where they were going, just said it was a surprise and boy Simon was surprised all right. He was anxious, not only would a stranger be poking around his mouth with metal tools, he knew his teeth weren't in the best shape and he'd have to allow said stranger to see at least part of his face and get all up in there. He hid it well though, gruff, curt and staring down everyone in the waiting room as if he could combust them just by thinking. It went well enough, he had a tooth that had to be removed and a few cavities filled and he handled it well. On the way back to base he kept poking his face, the feeling of numbing strange to him.

The second visit was a routine cleaning and that's when braces were recommended and Ghost groaned, another office building and another stranger messing around in his mouth. Price was more than happy to take him however and he knew it was for the best. The first visit to the Orthodontist went better than the dentist's, the waiting room was less formal and there was a big coffee maker that also made hot tea. The doctor was also nicer and he found himself relaxed until he found out he'd have to wear the damn metal things for two years. He was glad they wouldn't be put on right away and they'd need to take a mold of his mouth first, which was fine until he was gagging around the cold pink goop and metal plate used to make the mold.

A week later he was scheduled to get them put on and he was surprised that the process of putting them on was painless. When the braces were tightened the following month he started to regret allowing Price to take him to the orthodontist. Of course he had no trouble keeping them clean and no one dared to call Ghost "brace face" or "metal mouth".

The second month he had them the doctor recommended rubber bands to help bring his jaw forward and correct his slight overbite. The first time he snapped one was the second time he put them in by himself, he was alone in his barracks and let out a loud string of curses when his eyes began to get teary. The second time they snapped is when he was yelling at some poor recruit who had the misfortune of fucking something up. The rubber band made a sharp snap sound that anyone in the room could hear and Ghost hollered. He almost felt like punching the doctor when he gave him new, thicker rubber bands to wear.