#bad end lost at star sea au

[threepandas]

Bad End: Lost at Star Sea

It was sheer luck I even glanced down. Stopped, longed enough to doubled check, triple check, my next jump. I didn't really need too. Trusted my ship's computers, (quite literally) with my life. Kinda had too, after so long, out in the sea of stars. So the fact that I paused? Checked? Noticed that stuttering little signal at all?

Really, it could only be luck.

Good, bad, a miracle or disaster in the making? Couldn't tell ya.

But I DID notice. And I DID, immediately, hit the override for my cued up jumps to Starline. Because as every pilot worth even a fraction of their soul will tell you? You see an SOS beacon? You fucking ANSWER it.

Yes, pirates pull the "help I'm stuck" trick. And yeah, there are other unscrupulous folks out there. But! That's part of why the bounty hunter's guild and pirate hunter's come down so HARD on those fuckers. If you discourage people from HELPING stranded pilots? People fucking DIE out there.

Cold Void Of Space, remember?

Far as I'm concerned? Old ship rules apply, there are enough horrors, lurking out there. We do NOT need to add to them. All differences are to be kept planet side. THEN you can kill each other.

Thank the stars, I had decided to go the back lanes. Yeah, it added a few extra weeks to my trip, that I couldn't spend on that swanky beach at Starline, but? The "road trip" through the outer edge of the galaxy had been worth it. Plenty of cool sights and fun new foods. And NOW, clearly, the much needed chance to be in the right place at the right time.

Getting my ship in close, I tried to hail the softly free floating wreck. It looked smashed. Like it hit or was struck by something at speed. They had clearly managed to slow themselves, but beyond that? I couldnt see much stabilization. The whole ship sat dark. Not good.

My dash said there was nothing to hail TOO. Fuck. I tried difference frequencies. Maybe they had a hand-held? Earpiece? Something? But I couldn't connect to anything. Find, anything. Shit! Okay. Okay! Plan B. Try to get a registration while I connect us up. Pray to which ever Gods gaurds this one's soul, that they breathe a similar gas mix.

Loading... loading...

Oh, thank FUCK!

Compatible air AND drones, someone up or out there, really DOES want these guys to live! I force myself to be calm. Rushing won't help anybody, but WILL make a mess, after all. Bring up that frustrating drone request program I downloaded on a whim. Watch as, dispite the odds, lights flicker on across the hull of the ship.

Emergency protocols engage. They, obviously, get no counter order. And? Like the beautiful, life saving, little dumbasses they are? Immediately begin to zip and trundle into position to drag the wreckage in towards my ship. Gods bless the collective single IQ point of drones. Good babies. Such good babies!

With a heavy shudder and thunk, we connect.

Already, I am hovering by the latch. Emergency kit in hand. Breather on. The second it's confirmed, I twist the latch and...Oh gods. The air that surges up to greet me is so cold, it BURNS. I hadn't even though I was sweating, hadn't noticed it, until it felt like stabbing flash frozen crystals on my face. Shit! Oh gods, oh SHIT!

I scramble down, ladder burning cold even through my gloves. Red emergency lights and terrible silence greet me. I move quick. Emergencies & Stranding classes echoing in my head. Check the warmest part of the ship first, then work your way out. If they CAN move, they'll know to retreat there.

Registration said the ship had fifteen people. No idea how many survived the impact and cold, but hopefully? All of them. I may not have the room or rations for a comfortable trip. But it'd be warm. And I could get them to a port.

They should be in the central compartment, which is usually critical storage and medbay. Getting there, the door has clearly been forced to slide open by someone with claws and blood on their hands. It couldn't close properly, they bent it getting it open.

Looking down, there... oh gods. There is A LOT of blood on the floor.

Something... someONE? Dragged to storage. Blood trails thick on the floor. There must be a preserver; trying, maybe, to keep their friends from rotting? Might be shock? And they just... couldn't figure out where to put the bodies. I shake my head, tearing my horrified eyes away. Concentrate! Save the living. The dead are already gone. Be sick about it later.

It takes the crowbar I brought, now cold enough to worry me, to force the door to slide again. The room in side is barely warmer then the air outside. But? There, against the far wall? Is just about every clothe and piece of fabric in the ship. Two emergency blankets glinting from withing the chaotic pile.

The only other people in the room are clearly dead. Injuries. He must have tried to treat them but been unable too. Regardless of what happened, I rush forward. Unearthing an unconscious Aqualin from his self made fabric tomb. The colouration might mean he's from the deep water region. But without his eyes or mouth open I can't TELL.

I hope so, his chance of survival would go up tremendously. Dragging the limp, dangerously hypothermic, man onto my shoulders in a fireman's carry, I get us the hell out. His front is stained in blood. His hands coated. Everything that could go wrong? Seems too. But if I have any say, he is NOT dying here.

Dragging us into my now cold ship, I clumsily kick at the latch until I manage to flip it closed. Just for now. I'll have to go back down for those blankets and such, to help get him warm. But first? I get my rescue set up, warming up.

A further few, brutally cold, few trips to loot the ship of what I safely can before I can close that latch for good. Lock away the horrors to be found there. Stacking everything up and off to the side for him. I'm pretty sure I even found his wallet. So at least? He won't be destitute. Then, while the droids transferred the last of the wreck's fuel? I start to bring up the heat back to normal. Slowly.

Once all is said and down, I silence the emergency beacon and send in the mandatory report. Might be a while before a cleaning crew can get out here... but, well... at least those poor bastard's family's would have some closure. Life insurance. That sort if thing.

.....fuck today has been shit.

"Ooooh go on a vacaaaaation~" Everybody said. "You're so overworked!" They had said. "So STRESSED! You definitely won't find a ship full of corpses!" Thanks for that, guys! Having SUCH a great time. No, REALLY.

Detaching from the wreckage is almost... no, IS horrific in how easy it is. It just... float away. Silent, dark, and gentle. A cold bit of nothingness, lost in the void. Sinking into the stars with it's cargo full of dead, like... like nothing happened at all. It looks so small. Just a twisted bit of metal. Drifting... drifting... away....

Even with the heaters bringing the heat back up, I feel cold.

That could have been me.

What the hell happened? I tear my eyes away from the view screen. Back down to the dash board. Standard operating procedure is to grab the black box of a wreck, even if you find no survivors. Helps universal safety innovation and regulatory blah blah blah. Had to drill it into my head to even GET my license. So... so now... there it is. Grabbed.

I... COULD look.

Fiddling with my rescues wallet, I stare at it. It's hella illegal. Breach of privacy. You can't just... just go into someone's ship and poke around. Look up where they've been and who they've been talking too about what. All their data would be on that thing. Soothing MY anxiety is not more important then THEIR boundaries, right? I should leave it.

I flip the wallet open. My rescue's smiling face grins back up at me, like some sort of dork at a photo shoot. He's leaning against an advertisement for, ironically, Starline. Probably the same beach that convinced me to go. All relaxed confidence and swagger, he looks nothing like the half frozen man I dragged from that ship.

My rescue has lost weight. A concerning amount of color. But? Looking at the rich black of the eyes and the point of his teeth? He seem to be either mostly or full blooded Deep Sea Aqualin. Thank FUCK.

There was a celebrity Tropical Region Aqualin a while back that my baby cousin was weirdly obsessed with. Not stalking obsessed, but? The "family is concerned" obsessed, you know? We all ended up learning WAY too much about their entire species. WAY, WAY too much.

Dea Sea Aqualin are apparently just? Built different. Like, "can withstand a degree of pressure and cold and would kill most others" different. The dehydration might still get him, but the cold? Might NOT.

Flipping the wallet closed, I ignore my gut. I don't need to see what's on that black box. Yeah, I'd find out what happened after they lost propulsion. But? Watching doomed men die? That's sick. There's nothing worth finding there. It's just anxiety.

I reset my next jump. The sooner we get to the next port, the sooner my Rescue (X'alus, apparently) can get help. Then? I head back to check on him. I think, he might be stirring. Approaching the mound of blankets, it turns out I'm right.

" 'rm?" He manages to slur, voices crackling like it's a fight to get anything out. "Wh're 'm? Who?"

There is no good way to tell someone a whole ship full of crewmates is... gone. But, fuck, if I don't try. Gently sitting him up, I help him drink from a hydration pouch. Little at a time, so as not to stress his likely starved stomach. He leans, boneless, towards me. Like he wishes he could drag himself into my lap. Staring like I hold the secrets to the universe.

"Pre'ty. Warm. You sav'd me?"

I nod, shooting him a smile as I tuck the blanket more firmly around him. Poor guy is still pretty weak. But he's healing fast. That's good. He smiles back, bright predators teeth glinting in the ship's light. (Bit unhinged looking, but hey, he seems loopy.)

"Y're my hero~ pre'ty, pre'ty hero~!"

"Arn't I lucky? You found me!"

[harzilla]

Original post found here. https://www.tumblr.com/harzilla/760718001365549056/ohh-brain-rot-time-long-lost-sibling-au-except

Expanding on the idea. I want to thank @achromaticbibliophile for a lot of these ideas

Riddle and Yuu growing up in complete opposite lives. Riddle under strict parentage while Yuu grows up in a family similar to the Robinson's in Meet the Robinson's. A chaotic but loving family that sees failure not as a bad thing, but as a way to learn. Who finds a baby on their doorstep and adopts without hesitation. The two butting heads at first. Until the truth of Yuu being Riddle's sibling is revealed. Perhaps Yuu's hair is platinum blonde or even white. Perhaps Riddle is the Red Queen to Yuu's White Queen. Riddle who is introduced to Yuu's adopted family and it's all so chaotic, dinner nearly a food fight and afterwards he's brought into the kitchen to help make the dessert. Messing it up and he thinks it'll be another oyster sauce incident. But instead everybody cheers and ohh. It's actually okay. Yuu and him sharing the story of him messing up the tart after his overblot The family turns it into a silly joke. The dessert is missing something, why not oyster sauce? The family, having a contest to see who can create the weirdest dessert, and Riddle winning by making a traditional Queendom of Roses star gazey pie. Riddle, who finds himself laughing along with the rest of the family. Welcome to the family Riddle.

Leona, who has always been the unfavored. Who is brought to meet Yuu's adoptive parents. Leona, who had to convince Falena not to come but instead sends a note thanking the parents for raising the third Kingscholar child. Yuu's parents shocked to see their lost child come home sporting ears and a tail and bringing home a brother. Leona, who finds himself at ease when they ask him about his aspirations, his plans for the future, he's just Leona to them.

Jade and Floyd. Who grew up with a mother who was always worried about them. Eventually learning about a third eelver who was lost to the tides. One day a kid runs up to their parents with a baby wrapped in a towel. The adults panic but the couple eventually adopt the child. Yuu who doesn't have a clue until the day they go to the coral sea to retrieve the photo and transform into an eel mer. Jade immediately separating Yuu and bombarding them with questions while Floyd keeps the others away. Jade and Floyd who drag Yuu back to NRC.

J&F: Found our lost sibling.

Azul: What?

J&F: *dumping them into a tank* Found our lost sibling.

Rollo, who hates magic. Magic lost him not one but two siblings. Rollo, who plans to rid the world of magic. The masquerade invitation to NRC. Rollo, who is shocked when the previously uninvited Prefect looks strikingly similar to himself and his deceased brother. Perhaps he sees Yuu as an even bigger motivator for his plans. Magic took his siblings from him, and if he destroys it, then magic can never take Yuu from him again. Yuu who at the end tells him that yes, magic may have separated them but magic also brought them back together and perhaps magic may allow him to see the world they grew up in.

Malleus' was expanded on a lot and is practically a fanfic in onto itself.

This idea is actually thanks to @kitsun369

The Spade family, a set of baby paternal twins. One that looks like their father, and the other who looks like their mother Dilla. The parents separate after a particularly nasty divorce. Only for the baby with dad to disappear after their father is attacked and injured. The parents, but especially Dilla spend years mourning the loss of one child. One day, Deuce overhears his mom on the phone crying to his grandmother because she's afraid something will happen to Deuce if he doesn't get on the right path. She's already mourned one child. She can't bare to mourn another. That day Deuce decides to turn his life around, he never wants to see his mom cry like that again.

Deuce who becomes friends with the prefect. They're like peas in a pod. They're each other's biggest supporters. The day they go to the White Rabbit festival and Deuce introduces his mom to Yuu, she's shocked because this child is practically the spitting image of her ex-husband when he was that young, even down to the same hair color. She doesn't want to get her hopes up but could it be?

[jolalibrary]

isn't it

din djarin x f!reader

summary: at first, it had been you who had found a problem with each one he’d landed at. but, at some point between your clothing being around your ankles, you’re sure he’d begun to find problems with you leaving too.

warnings: mentions of smut/alludes to smut. bad star wars writing (probs, i'm new forgive me). no use of y/n. brief mention/allusion of hand necklace (thanks @rhoorl for the term), m!oral, p in v. loosely season one/two, although likely au. wordcount: 1.7k an: a huge massive thank you to @saradika for firstly convincing me i could do this, and then letting me show her this so i could be assured i didn't butcher him. ily so much 🤍

It’s beautiful.

The sound of wind rustling through it, how it waves in spots up and down the hill—moving side to side like a cosmic wave.

You thought you’d known green until now; thought you had known silver too, assumed you understood the way reflections worked and how quick movements could be. But that was before him.

Before you’d known the feel of his solid body lay on top of yours.

Then, you discovered a lot of things. Like how easy it was to spread your thighs on either side of him. For your fingers to seek in the dark—how they effortlessly hunt and find the parts he’ll expose to the night, but never to the light.

You even found you don’t hate the sound of your name when he says it. Somehow makes it longer, more impactful—like it has meaning when it comes from his mouth.

All of which were things you’d never known before you convinced him to bring you.

A promise, a barter—an exchange. Your hand clutching his blaster slugs, tears clutching to your lashes, flowing from your eyes—aware of what you look like, aware of the desperation you reek of.

Just take me to a different planet. A suitable one. Please.

At first, it had been you who had found a problem with each one he’d landed at.

A bogus reason, a ploy—all stemmed from a rising infatuation with the man under beskar. But, at some point between your cheek against the wall of his ship and your clothing being around your ankles, you’re sure he’d begun to find problems with you leaving too.

But, this place is a gift—it’s a slice of heaven.

It had been a stop gap you’d almost pleaded at him not to make, a pause in the travel plan. Now you’re not sure you want to leave it.

Because here is a sea of greens, a variety, a never-ending display of every shade between the letters which make up the name. Some are more saturated, some are deeper; some are tinged with yellows and others are blotted with dark spots that aim to discolour, but just make them more unique.

There’s no bounty here—no collection to be made.

Just a sight for your eyes and a moment for him. And, you think you could sit here for hours and bask in it. Take it in. Allow the air of this planet to fill your lungs and carve a space inside of you that no one will ever be able to rip from you.

Stroking your fingers through the ground, you feel how your tunic presses to your spine—how it’s held there by the perspiration on your spine. The fabric desperate to blow, to whip around your ribs and the sleeves to float around your arms.

You don’t care that it’s warm—don’t mind that you can feel your skin prickling under it.

Because you’re lost in it, the limitlessness of this place. How surreal it is that each blade points north to the sky, all upright, anchored pleasingly to the ground it came from.

Things had been beautiful earlier too, you remind yourself.

When you had been enveloped by darkness, not a slither of light—not that there’d be the space for it in the small cot. His hands, forever a staple, an anchor, to your hips, determined to pin you there.

He’s a man who chases after those who run, and you suppose it’s ingrained in him. This belief that everyone, at some point, will leave—will go. You think it’s why he holds you tightly when you’re nothing but bare; you suppose it’s why after, when he unsheathes himself, he always traces his thumb over the places his fingers have been, reminding your skin he’s kind, just in case you need another reminder not to leave.

“We should go.”

You hum because you should. Yet, your mind rationalises that the baby is still asleep and there are more minutes to sit in the silence, to not dwell—you suppose it’s why your hand reaches up, and brushes over the gloved fingers instead.

Action is easier than words when it comes to him.

A game the two of you play, one of silence and strategy—wondering who’d be the first to crack and speak more words than necessary. You suspect it’ll be you in time, likely soon enough.

It’s why you clutch, cling. Weaving and working until you’re holding his fingers at an odd angle, a silent plea there, a wishful hope spoken without using syllables or your lips and mouth.

“One more minute.”

“Okay,” you respond.

Watching the strands move again, swaying, dancing.

A content sigh rolls from you, and briefly—in the back of your mind, you wonder if you’re really awake. Whether this is some form of peace your brain has concocted after the sight of him stained in crimson; his palms flat in the air, modulator expelling he’s fine, it isn’t his, he’s okay, it’s okay—

For a while, you’d believed him, until you felt the bruises—all pulsing and colouring in shades you can’t imagine. An image being drawn, shaded in—forever in black and white, just outlines and half-concocted feelings you have on what lives under his armour.

He sighs next to you, it rattling out through his helmet.

And you wait to hear it, the confirmation he normally hands you. Deep, even through his modulator that this “isn’t it” either.

It’s been a routine ever since the two of you began this dalliance. Ever since you’d smuggled yourself aboard his ship with the promise that you’d never ask him for anything else.

Neither realising how false that would be.

You beg for a lot. For more, for his lips, his fingers and his cock. You wait for the darkness, count down to it—thrum with excitement for it when he steps down the ladder and his helmet is aimed in your direction.

Somehow, no words are said, just mutual acknowledgement, acceptance. Or that's what you call it. It being seemingly better than admitting that you crave it—him. That you care, that the sight of him smeared in ruby still haunts you—lingers there, bleeds into good days and casts shadows while you wait in the hull. The child in your arms, soothing him—telling yourself you’re giving him comfort, when you suppose you gain more from the small being than you could ever provide.

“This isn’t it,” he eventually says from above.

His helmet turned, and you imagine the eyes that live under it. Question if they’re almond-shaped or hooded, whether they’re brown, green or blue. You also wonder if he looks at you with curiosity or want, whether it’s with a thousand thoughts running or none at all.

“No?”

“No. Not this one.”

That’s when you close your eyes. Let your ears do the seeing.

Allow your other senses to kick in, to swallow the lack of sight and make do. You end up lingering on the gloved hand in yours—the one which sometimes slides around your neck, lightly pinches either side as you moan at the feel of him. The same hand which slides down your spine to aid your motion, or lingers there when the terrain isn't trouble-free.

It's the remembering which makes you let go of it, of him.

Quickly managing to pretend your hand doesn’t feel cold when you do. Stuff down the emptiness that begins to drown you in the space you put between you, as you stand up. A part of you admitting defeat, silently saying goodbye to tall stands of green and the rolling hills adorned with shades.

“Thought you’d be sick of me by now.”

It rumbles from you. All heavy, laced in its own metal—ready to slam into him and take him down.

It doesn’t. You’re not sure any words ever could.

You suppose it’s why he says nothing, silently following, not too far so that you’re alone, but not close enough that you can feel the ghost of his touch. The distance measured, all purposeful. It remains so until you’re back aboard, until the door closes behind you and you’re once again surrounded by metal.

A part of you knows you shouldn’t grow used to him, shouldn’t be waiting for him to flood your spine with his chest. But you do—you really fucking do.

It’s why you don’t move, don’t take a step closer to check on the baby or even unclench your hand from around the strands of green you’d stolen. The ones you’d ripped up from the ground, roots tickling your wrist—the rest remaining tucked closely between curled fingers and a sweaty palm.

Yours. The smallest piece of a place you’ll likely never see.

“You should sleep.”

It’s an order. Direct—practically thrown at you. Followed by a tight grip on your waist, fingers finding the same place they always do. His place. The one not needing a mark, but he leaves them all the same, ownership, a possession.

Sometimes in the throes of it, you hear him hiss mine, jus’ mine—your head nodding in the dark, because you are, you know you are, the same as you suspect he knows he’s yours. It’s another thing which festers behind your teeth, keeping lips clamped shut, knowing it requires no confirmation, no words in exchange for the momentary slip-up he lets escape. But then, you offer nothing when you trace mine against him with your tongue, when you muffle the words around his shaft as your mouth widens to take more of him.

It’s just pleasure, an easy-to-choose solution to another body being in proximity—a lie you tell yourself.

One you bargain with when he sleeps and you’re coated in the dark, convincing yourself until sleep carries you away and you wake to find yourself either alone or the very opposite.

Because it’s easier, simpler. Far better than admitting your heart does a double take when he returns, that you yearn for him in the days that pass when he leaves you on the ship.

It’s less complicated than asking him if you’ll ever be worthy of seeing him.

And you’re not the type of person to question. So you don’t.

And so the routine continues.

an: you don't know how long this has been burning in my head.

[fall0utmind]

Rosquez medical leak au ch8

Hi guys, long time no post (it has taken too long)

Chapter 8: Fall out

ao3 here, check the medical leak au tag (below) for the other parts

We are officially past the worst of the angst - hope you enjoy this, it's a bit of a filler but it is going to get better. Thanks for all the love.

Silence falls for a brief second after Valentino has left. Marc is standing alone in the middle of the room, staring at where he had been. He feels the shattered pieces of his heart in his chest, and he begins to cry. Once he starts, he can’t stop, wretched sobs pulled out of him as he gasps for breath. Underneath the misery and despair, the deep roots of his anger pull at him. Enraged that Valentino still treats him like a stray dog that he can continue to kick down, knowing that he will return with his tail wagging at the first hint of affection. He’s furious that Vale can pretend that he didn’t know. How can he stand in Marc’s home and plead when he has ruined everything? It leaves a sour taste in Marc’s mouth, yet his treacherous heart flutters with hope that maybe Valentino didn’t know. Maybe there is a chance.

He can barely see Alex's panicked face through his swimming vision as he frantically tries to inhale, his breath catching in his chest.

He feels the room bearing down on him, the walls contracting, pushing him from all sides. His heart races as black spots appear in his sight like stars in the night sky. His chest aches and his lungs burn, it is as if someone has sucked the oxygen out of the room. He is shaking; someone has tipped his life upside down and he no longer knows which way is up. He cannot help but feel like something bad will happen, an impending sense of doom clawing from his chest. The irony isn’t lost on him.

Alex is clutching at him now, shouting at the others in the room, who break out of their ghost-like trance and spring into action. Dovi slots himself behind Marc, strong arms wrapping around him, supporting his weight as his knees buckle. He gently manoeuvres them towards the sofa, both collapsing onto it. There is a gentle rumbling from behind him – the Italian whispering softly in Marc’s ear, and although he can’t hear anything but a static buzz, the gentleness lulls him slightly. He squeezes his eyes shut, more tears leaking down his face. When he opens his eyes, Alex is kneeling in front of him, Marc’s hands clasped in his own. He watches Alex’s lips move with no sound. He still can’t catch his breath. Violent sobs and gasps fill the air; it takes him a second to realise the broken noises are coming from him, filtering through the static.

This is what Valentino Rossi does to him. He takes Marc’s heart in his hands, brutally ripped out from his chest, and he smashes it like glass. He turns his back and leaves Marc with no blood, no oxygen, and no way to keep on living. And yet Marc still loves him. The name Marc Marquez is rarely spoken without a mention of Valentino Rossi. They are intrinsically linked, their names smeared together in an artistic rendition of pain and betrayal. Marc does not believe there will ever be a day he can live without it. They are destined to destroy each other until the end of time. Nothing will be left of his fragile heart by the time Valentino is done with it.

He thinks back to 2015. He thinks he is falling apart, shattering into a million tiny shards. The world stops spinning as he stares into the void and realises this is his fate. The man he loves willingly betrays him again and again, but despite it all, Marc cannot help but need him. A visceral, all-consuming need to consume each other until only one survives. Every time he thinks he has moved on Valentino sinks his claws back in, tearing another part of Marc apart. The backslide is always the worst part; having climbed the whole way up only to slip back down again. Pain becomes welcome in the never-ending sea of numbness. He is frantically swimming up to a surface which will never come. Choking, suffocating, sinking deeper into the murky depths. He is lost in the endless darkness, trying to find his way to a home that doesn’t exist. He feels so alone. He has shut every door trying to block it out and has numbed himself into apathy. Now the world has turned its back on him.

Alex shakes him. Hard. Unwilling to let the darkness take hold once more. Marc pulls towards the surface, pushing his head above the waves and gasping for air. He inhales. Alex’s words filter into his awareness.

“Marc, breathe with me. You’re ok, it’s okay”

Marc tries desperately to match the breathing demonstrated to him, focusing on the steady rise and fall of Dovi’s chest behind him as he gasps around his tears. He clutches onto the feeling like a lifeline, breathing in time with him. He is distantly aware of Alex talking soothingly, his hands still grasping Marc’s. Marc feels guilt wash over him; he has always tried hard to prevent his brother from seeing these panic attacks. He has tried to be strong, reluctant to let Alex feel more responsibility for Marc’s wellbeing. He failed. Another round of tears builds, leaving him sobbing wretchedly once more. The Dovi continues to whisper comforting praise, his low register rumbling against where they are flush together.

“That’s it, you’re doing so well, keep breathing for me, baby”

The pet name sinks into his chest and settles like a blanket of warmth; he feels his cheeks flush slightly. Dovi chuckles lightly, noting Marc’s reaction before he goes back to coaching the younger to breathe deeply. The world slowly filters back in, like the tide has pulled back, retreating to sea. Dovi is wrapped around him, grounding him in reality. Alex’s face is still in front of him; his eyes soft as he comes back into focus. Marc blinks slowly, squeezing his brother’s hand, and Alex exhales.

“Jöder, Marc. You scared the life out of me. God…”, Alex frets.

Water is pressed into his hands by a concerned-looking Dani. Marc tries to muster a reassuring smile, he’s not sure if he succeeds. A bone-deep exhaustion washes over him, and he sinks back into Dovi, eyes shutting against his will. Jorge and Dani watch on, concern evident from their identical worried frowns.

“Are you okay, Mijo?”, asks Dani.

Marc hums non-committedly, he wants to tell them everything is fine, but that’s a lie, and he doesn’t think he could talk right now if he tried. He could sleep for a year. It’s getting late; the sun had long since set and really it is about time that they all headed to bed. Dani and Jorge share a look, communicating without words, and announce that they will head back to their hotels to let Marc rest. He considers this for a second, and upon second thought, it might be hotel singular given how domesticated the pair are. He must ask about that, maybe tomorrow. They confer quietly with Alex before they leave, gently touching Marc and reassuring him that they will return tomorrow. Affection rises within him at his friend's kindness. Despite this, he is somewhat glad they are leaving, exhaustion weighing down on him. He feels washed out, managing a small wave as his eyes begin to droop again. Dovi shuffles out from underneath Marc, standing up and stretch leisurely.

“Let’s get you to sleep, Cariño”

He shoots a questioning look towards Alex, who shrugs a little before pointing towards the bedrooms. It makes Dovi roll his eyes in exasperation. He’s not an idiot, he knows what the others are doing - giving him and Marc space. He knows he has a soft spot for the Spaniard that you can see from space, but he also knows about Marc’s unwavering affection for Valentino. Dovi is perfectly content to be his friend without a need to act on his attraction, and if Marc ever decides otherwise then that’s something they can explore another day. Certainly not now.

He scoops Marc up off the sofa, gesturing at Alex to lead the way and following him with Marc tucked securely in his arms. Once they reach the bedroom, Dovi gently deposits him on the bed. Between Alex and himself, they manage to wrangle him out of most of his clothes and get him under the covers. He’s still sniffling weakly when he turns towards them.

“Why does he hate me? I don't understand”

Dovi's heart shatters a little at that, sadly looking back at the Spaniard tucked into bed like a child.

“I don’t know Corazón,but hopefully today’s given him a much-needed kick up the backside”

He gives Marc a weak smile, despaired that he can’t do more, and steps back to let Alex wrap him in a hug. Alex murmurs something in Catalan which prompts Marc to shove his face into his brother’s shirt. Marc’s eyes are unfocused and drooping by the time they leave, his soft goodnight echoing down the hallway as they shut the door behind them. Alex lets out a deep sigh, thanking Dovi and giving him a light hug before he shows him out. They all need their sleep tonight, with tomorrow promising to be a hectic day. Alex will stay close to his brother, unable to shake the lingering concern, but Dovi heads back to his hotel room, in dire need of some rest and time to think. He just hopes tomorrow will bring more positivity.

*

Marc wakes up with the sun, feeling well rested despite the events of the day before. He is determined to put yesterday behind him, reminding himself that he can always fight, even if the world is against him.

Marc pulls himself out of bed, putting on his comfiest outfit before he heads onto the track, hoping to get an early morning walk in to clear his head before the rest of the paddock arrives. The morning light is beautiful, and the air is warm but not uncomfortable. It reminds him why he loves racing – walking the track. He can almost imagine the smell of burnt rubber and the purr of an engine below him. He can feel the breeze on his face and imagines the feeling as he takes a corner. Marc allows himself a moment to stand and take it in, the sun warming his face and making him golden in the early morning sunshine. He has overcome a lot to be here, he might as well appreciate that. He stays out for another half an hour, leisurely walking the track and appreciating the quiet, before he heads back to the motorhome.

Someone is lingering outside the door- a figure clad in red. At first, he thinks it’s Pecco, but as he draws closer, he realises that his hair is too long. Fear momentarily grips him as he considers who might be loitering outside his motorhome, and why. But before the panic can fully set in, the figure turns, and Marc is face to face with Enea. He’s surprised the younger Italian has sought him out. He’s been avoiding most of the grid for the whole weekend, unwilling to confront their pitying faces.

 Enea greets him with a fond ciao and a warm hug as Marc invites him inside. There’s a worried frown that creases his eyebrows, it’s terribly cute. His eyes are scanning Marc as if checking to see if he’s okay.

“You areokay?”, he asks.

Marc smiles gently, the warmth from earlier returning. It makes him surprisingly honest.

“I’ve been worse. Rough night. It’ll get better”, Marc replies.

He knocks their shoulders together, enjoying the way it makes Enea flush slightly and smile in a quiet, pleased sort of way. Enea has always been one of the few Italians on the grid that Marc gets on with. Probably because he has never been associated with Vale’s posse of students. Enea is funny and kind, as well as a talented rider. It endears Marc to him.

Enea stays for coffee. The soothing sounds of quiet Italian fill the motorhome as they talk about the weekend and their plans after the race. Alex wanders into the room not long after, eyebrows raising at the sight of the two of them. Enea takes Alex arriving as his cue, standing up to leave. As Marc walks him out, the Italian tugs him into a tight hug, head buried into Marc’s shoulder.

“You scared me. At the press conference. And then yesterday. I’m glad you are okay.”, he mumbles, rawness bleeding into his voice. Marc simply pulls Enea in tighter, pressing his face against the other man’s hair, before he lets him go. He grins at the younger man, ruffling his hair good-naturedly.

“I will see you later, good luck today!”, Marc calls out as Enea leaves

“You too, Marc. Be safe”, Enea answers.

Marc grins a little manically,

“Always.”

*

The rest of the morning passes in a blur. The others are meeting them in the garage today, leaving the brothers to get ready together before heading out into the pit lane.

It is getting busier now; the paddock swells with media, team personnel, and fans. Marc and Alex try their best to swerve around the masses, taking alternative routes where possible. Usually, Marc adores meeting fans; he loves seeing their enthusiasm and passion for his sport. But the idea sets him on edge after this weekend. He has been avoiding social media, terrified by the juxtaposing reaction of the fans. He knows there is no shortage of hatred online. He found out the hard way that it translates into real life too.

Eventually, their luck runs out. Marc darts a terrified look at Alex as a group of fans spot them and begin to approach. Some of them are wearing his merch, some not. Anxiety is clawing at him, but he steals himself with a deep breath. He can’t escape without looking like an asshole and that’s the last thing he needs this weekend. A young woman approaches first, perhaps in her later teenage years; she looks about as nervous as Marc feels. All he can imagine is the man who shouted abuse at his most vulnerable moment, it scares him more than he wants to admit. He pastes a fake smile onto his face whilst mentally bracing himself for the worst.

It never comes.

The girl is sweet, asking for a photo and an autograph. It’s a relatively normal fan interaction until she pulls away from the selfie and looks directly into Marc’s eyes. He’s slightly shaken by the fierce honesty he sees there.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry about all the crap from this weekend.”, she starts, compassion and outrage evident in her voice.

“It sucks that you didn’t get to say it on your own terms. You will inspire many people with your success. Thank you for staying alive so that we can see you continue to thrive in the face of adversity. You’re very brave.”

She smiles at him after, before turning on her heel and walking away with a slight skip in her step. It leaves Marc gasping for air; his face is slack from shock. The fans continue to be quietly supportive and praise Marc’s strength. Quite a few of them are bad-mouthing the press. It makes him reconsider everything. It makes him feel brave rather than weak. It makes him consider all the people who have suffered through similar, just like Pecco had said last night. He smiles for real this time, his eyes slightly damp.

The final fan loitering is an older man wearing a faded 46 shirt. Marc gulps, fighting the recurring panic. Each step feels like a blow as the man approaches. He stops in front of Marc, who is suspended in time, tensing in anticipation.

The man speaks quickly, his voice low but sincere.

“You are a good man.”, he announces. That alone shocks Marc.

He continues, “People can see that, no matter who we support. Despite everything you have kept going, you should be proud of that.”

Marc feels hope and warmth welling up within him. It feels good, knowing that even Valentino’s fans could be kind. He wants to cry, but in a good way for once. He watches the man as he walks away, rooted to the spot, leaving Alex to drag Marc the last few hundred meters towards the garage.

He enters the garage feeling lighter than he has all weekend, a sunny smile on his face. The team reflect his positivity almost immediately; he loves them more than life. Dovi is already waiting for Marc and Alex, his eyebrows raised at their entrance.

“What’s got you smiling like that?”, he questions.

Marc grins cheekily as he replies, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He winks at Dovi and laughs at the dirty smirk he receives in response, followed by Alex’s weary groan. Dani and Jorge join them, prompting Marc to launch into a retelling of the fan interactions. He beams the whole way through.

By the time he heads out for practice, he feels on top of the world. It’s reflected in his riding, and he puts in lap after lap at a blazing pace.  By the time he pulls back into the pits, there is a wicked smile on his face.

Fuck the world, he thinks. He has proved to himself capable of handling anything. He has overcome what should have been a career-ending injury. He will get through this too; he has already done the hardest bit. Bring it on.

[bluemoon1331]

Hello, hello! Welcome to my main blog, where the DCA fascination consumes! My alt blog is @sharetheartman, go check it out if you wanna see the amazing art this community has to offer!

My Ko-fi (if you're able to help a struggling writer, very much appreciated. Can request written commissions if you want): BlueMoon1331

Below is a list of all my current fics on A03 and planned AUs! Give them a read if you love fantasy and the DCA! (Updated to divide between the SFW and NSFW stories)

<<<<<First up, the SFW section!>>>>>>

Finished Works:

One Lost Star- You are a bit of a hermit, living solo off the land since the death of your grandfather. Until you draw certain godly attention, that is.

Scarlet Masquerade- The sole heir to your kingdom, you find yourself caught in the tangled web of the automaton emperor's plans. However, things are about to go from bad to worse when you catch the interest of the deadly automaton assassin sent to end you.

WIPs:

Cosmic Journeys- Trapped in the depths of depression, you seek an unfortunate out. The nearby land owner won't let that happen, though. Thus begins a journey of self-worth and finding hope in a world of madness and compassion, monsters, saints, and everything in between.

Come and Go- A Megamind-inspired AU with Sun as Metroman, Moon as Megamind, and Eclipse as Titan, while you are a delivery driver caught in the middle.

Unusual- An oceanographer, there is no place you'd rather be than scouring the depths of the seven seas, studying its plant life and creatures, in particular the infamous mers, beings most of your co-workers are quite wary of. They don't seem to mind you too much, though, a fact you try not to put stock in until an encounter on the beach near your house flips your entire world upside down. Strings of fate and a battle to rule the oceans with you as the key? Ridiculous. Right?

Of Metal Parts and Roadside Shenanigans- You are a trucker traveling home before unwittingly tripping headfirst into a giant mystery. (More of @deceptiveshadow's Blood Moon cause I love him and cannot help myself.)

One-shots:

Party Crashing 101- A piece inspired by the mafia episode from Helluva Boss. Badass, protective reader ftw XD

Blooming In Adversity- You and the princesses were great friends in your youth, until you had to move away. Years later, you return, your friendship blooming anew. However, dark plots turn in the background, and it may be up to just you to save them.

Phantom Tide- You are a siren, crushed under betrayal. Sun and Moon are brothers recovering from the throes of grief. Perhaps you may be just what each other need.

Connotations- Your duties as a druid are fairly life-consuming, but you have happily devoted yourself to them. Keeping the peace is not the easiest, but you do it all the same. Unfortunately, the arrival of contesting priests threaten your efforts, setting you on a collision course to meet three of the forest's most powerful caretakers.

Diamonds and Iron- Being a rather big-time mafia boss, of course Eclipse needs places to stash away his income. As an outdoor enthusiast, you love visiting the local motorsports arena when you can afford it. Oh, who's that standing in the middle of the track, where you can't see?

Birds of a Feather- You are stuck as the basically powerless manager to the newly opened pizzaplex. With problems everywhere you look, you're not sure which one to focus on or handle first. Perhaps you could find a kindred soul in a certain mechanic, however. (Based in the EAPS universe)

<<<<<<<<<NSFW area ahoy!>>>>>>>>>>

Finished Works:

Never Play Cat and Mouse With Vampires- Living alone is a necessity, your skills in hunting, magic, and evasion giving you all you need for contentment, or so you tell yourself. In your newest home you, unfortunately, find that your capabilities only draw the infatuation of three local creatures that are intent to finally capture you and make you theirs. Annoyingly, they may just get that chance.

Dancing In Orbit- The lunar vampire is the last of his kind, a deadly plague on the Earth that refuses to yield despite the uncountable years that have passed since the last of his kin and kind died off. You, running from your intertwined past, seek to finally put an end to that, with some help from friends old and new.

Familiar Constellations- The vampires get a bit quirky about you, especially when you egg them on. Mature. Very, very mature. Good gods they are rough, but you love it. After all, you can get a bit rough with them, too.

Gravity- Featuring another of @deceptiveshadow's lovely OCs, Nova. Normally quite the quiet and cat-like companion, you join him for a round of games in which his behavior becomes increasingly odd. That's nothing compared to when you strangely wake in the tower the next day, having no recollection of how you got there, and what comes after.

WIPs:

Embers and Ash- Ghost hunting is your profession, and you are damn good at it. Which is why you don't think twice when you're hired to cleanse an abandoned mansion of its otherworldly resident. Too bad this job is not the cake walk you thought it would be.

Burning Stars- You run your farm alone on a world teeming with aliens and humans, content with your animal family and helpful community, even if you keep the latter at arm's lengths. Until your peace is interrupted by a certain intergalactic bounty hunter, anyway.

Rosewood's Serenade- The eldest child of your kingdom, you have trained since birth to be all your home needs and more, intent to take the throne when the time comes, marriage or no. However, your parents harbor a secret, a deal struck when disaster threatened to destroy all they hold dear, and you soon find yourself meeting a most intriguing being...

Demonic- The saying of Hell is empty for all the demons are here has never been more apt. Caught smack dab in the middle of the infamous Hell-Day event, you come out with an unexpected passenger woven into your soul. Now, you secretly fight to preserve the fragile balance between mortals and the demons trapped on Earth, all while contending with the fact your new neighbors are the very ones responsible for sealing the gates, the infamous Celestial Graces. They also happen to be the mortal enemies of the one currently living in you. Fun times all around, especially with devil himself on your heels, seeking to reclaim what he lost.

Along the Akesh- Blessed with visions since your youth, you were taken and raised by the temple, becoming one of the highest-ranked priests, second to only the grand heijut himself. With an awe-inspiring festival and ritual that happens only once every five centuries under way, you are eager to meet the moon god, one of the many you have had the pleasure of conversing with throughout your prayers and oracles, in person. Things take an unexpected turn, however, when the temple must pay recompense for an accidental screw up with a gift left by an old friend. You are about to learn just how intrigued you and the moon god truly are with each other.

One-shots:

Bleeding Feathers- You weren't supposed to go into the exclusionary zone, but that's never been a problem for you before. This time, however, you might just get more than you bargained for. Fan piece for @deceptiveshadow's harpy au! (Not TSAMS)

Color Theory- Moving back to your late grandma's cabin, you pray for things to finally settle down. Unfortunately, her myriad of secrets seek to come back and haunt you, but hey, it might not be all bad this time. You could use the comfort of an old friend. Another fic inspired by @deceptiveshadow! Their god Blood Moon this time. (Not TSAMS)

<<<<<<<Lastly, miscellaneous potential AUs!>>>>>>>

Lich King AU- With the three realms in shambles, cut off from each other, it is up to the most powerful warriors of Earth to fend off the lich king and his Elite army, including his own brothers. You, whom offers them a secret safe haven and relaxation when they need it, cannot deny your love for Sun and Moon, nor they you, but with Eclipse hounding for any weakness he can use against his kin, is the danger really worth it? You find the answer may be coming sooner than you would like when the two go missing after a fight.

Spirited Away AU- You have moved to a more remote region in hopes of forgetting a troubled family life. Content to spend your time among the lush jungles of the land, you inadvertently stumble upon an obviously long-forgotten temple. Curiosity eats at you, and you cannot help get closer, initially unaware of the myriad of eyes watching you, until you spot...an icy blue leopard? It's a good thing you helped those snakes and that spider on your way here.

Harem AU- You saved them from certain death, and now the clan of vampire brothers serve you. For years uncountable, you have pulled the strings, quite happy to cause chaos around the world when it becomes too dull for your liking, going from hero to hero. On blood soaked ground, you are content with your helpful vampires, though can things really stay the same forever?

Skyrim AU- Every place has its demons, no matter how reclusive or small. You consider yourself one of them. Seeking an escape, you move to Solstheim hoping for a fresh start. How unfortunate for you that you would arrive during the island's darkest hour. Cults, strange creatures, a frost giant king, and the arrival of two Dragonborns drag you right back into the spotlight, dredging up your past as you all race against time and the greedy daedra of knowledge to stop each other's destruction.

Then There Was One- You wake up to an empty world. You don't comprehend how or why it happened, just that everyone seems to have vanished in the blink of an eye. Cars sit vacant in traffic, meals left uneaten, internet full of messages that abruptly stopped hours ago. You try to live on your lonesome, keeping yourself distracted, and ignoring the gnawing loneliness. Except, well, you might not be as alone as you think, a fact you find out far too late when your page gets flooded with AI messages and bots are suddenly knocking at your day. Just what the hell kind of universal joke was this robot apocalypse you were stuck in? Or...do you have this all wrong? Your new companions may yet help you figure it out.

[mairsedoats]

My (quite long) list of samfro fic recs :-)

Leaving here some of my favorite samfro fics (so far) because well, why not? The ones with a little star (☆ ) are like… favorites of all time! They’re incredibly good (in my humble opinion anyhow.)

Starting off with a bunch of AU’s:

Down the Slopes -  fizzingwhizbee ☆ 

Ski instructor Sam and Writer Frodo modern AU (Rated T)

Through a Glass, Darkly - fizzingwhizbee ☆ 

Over the Garden Wall AU (Rated T)

Why were you digging (what did you bury) - blankie ☆ 

Frodo as a sort of God AU. (Rated T)

Impressions of a Morning Glory -mangostrawberry  ☆ 

Where Frodo wakes up without his memory. Post-quest AU (rated T)

A Second Cup of Coffee - mangostrawberry ☆ 

coffee shop AU where Sam works at a coffee shop and Frodo is a college student who frequents the shop. (Rated T)

Just like a Folksong - jolychetta ☆

Coffee shop/florist AU. (Rated G)

Come away with me - tayles_28 

Another coffee shop AU because apparently I’m a sucker for those. (Rated M)

Flower Boy - Cronch_Rat ☆ 

A growing flowers on your skin AU. (Rated T)

Tulips and carnations - kathkin  

Florist Sam and college student Frodo AU. (Rated T)

A light in the darkness - YamBits (I absolutely love Yambits’ works)

Frodo has settled into his life as Mayor, with Sam as his Deputy, when Merry arrives with news of an old terror, set on stalking Frodo. (Rated M)

Poisoned Mushrooms - YamBits ☆

Frodo's friends conspire to defend him against strange accidents and dark figures drawn to Bag End. As the world gets darker, Frodo and Sam find themselves growing closer. Set a year before the Journey. (Rated M) 

Crossing the Barrier - YamBits ☆

Sam crosses the sea, and reunites with Frodo. After waiting to speak with him for so long, Sam finds that Frodo has lost the ability to speak their common language. (Rated T)

Seasons and sentiment- fizzingwhizbee

Winter in Bag End. Sam is dealing with a Problem. (Rated T)

Strawberry Juice - Ethereal_Soul ☆

Frodo writes poetry about Sam lying on his garden, tries to translate it and is embarrassed when Sam almost finds out. Inspired by “strawberry blond” by Mitski. (Rated G)

Thrust out the Harlot - igraine1419 

Merry tricks Frodo and Sam into a game of hide and seek. (Rated E)

Hourglass - igraine1419

When strangers arrive in Hobbiton, Frodo is drawn onto a dangerous path. (Rated E)

For Eyes to See that Can - igraine1419

During a long, lonely night at Rivendell, Sam is restless until magic comes to his aid. (Rated E)

Cardinals - LadyRa [au]

The soil Galadriel gave Sam has some unexpected side effects. (Rated T)

Ghosts that we knew - objectlesson 

Frodo stays in the shire au. (Rated M)

Of Sun and Shade - icannotevenhhh 

Pre-quest. (Rated G)

The Raven and the Badger - lightningskipper ☆

An unexpected Harvestmath encounter… (Rated E)

Passion for Life - lauriel_lunar ☆

Sam reunites with Frodo in Valor after 60 years; Frodo is untouched by time. (Rated T)

Ten Thousand Starlit Nights - lauriel_lunar

Set during Two Towers. (Rated T)

We’ll take our chances (we’ll last a month) - Chash 

Fic I had fun reading; roommates AU (Rated T)

Here at the end of all things (with you) - grasslandgirl

Post-quest. (Rated G)

Oh, Samwise Gamgee You Old Fool - Cas_Wings 

Pre-quest; When Sam and Frodo go for an outing, they both begin to reflect on their feelings for one another. (Rated E)

Exsanguinating circumstances - chrononautical

Vampire au (Rated M)

Salvation - yeaka

The ring gives Frodo bad cravings; Short vampire AU. (Rated T)

A Kiss Sweeter Than Cream and a Smile Brighter Than Sunlight (Teapots and Copper Kettles) - ohmygoshwhatascream

A sweet one shot. (Rated T)

Flesh Spread Thin Over Aching Bones (A Song in the Wind) - ohmygoshwhatascream

Set in canon where Sam looks for Frodo at the top of the dark tower of Cirith Ungol. (Angsty fic) (Rated T)

I Don’t Care - OpportunityRover

Sam and Frodo share a cloak in the middle of Mordor. (Rated G)

When I consider everything that grows - wrishwrosh 

Pre-quest; Floriography. (Rated T)

You sold me a future - tigerlilycorine

A bit more floriography; flowers as a courting device of course… (Rated G)

The Language of Flowers - Annwyn

And more floriogrophy…who cheered! (Rated M)

For All the Weeks In Spring (In a Language That Needs No Words) - ohmygoshwhatascream

Each week, a flower appears on Frodo's bedside table. (Rated G)

Watch it grow, from far, from close - bayleavves 

Frodo and Sam over the course of the seasons. (Rated T)

In the Silent Forest Listening - Verecunda

Even after the Quest is ended, Frodo and Sam both find it hard to sleep. (Rated G)

For a Mere bit of Love - illegible_scribble

Silly kissing booth fic. (Rated G)

“Always” - ocean_blue 

Soulmate AU; When you come of age you receive a soul mark somewhere on your body which represents your soulmate and gives you a clue to who they are. (Rated T)

Heal my heart and drown my woe - winterwyrd 

Frodo and Sam take care of each other and try to avoid revealing too much of their hearts in the process. (Rated G)

Sweet Cider - ElderberryWine

Rated T.

[lordgrimwing]

Stealthros AU

[from this ask!]

The Basics: Malkor establishes his on kingdom in Middle-earth, enthralling/enslaving most of the elves before being defeated by the Valar and tossed into Mandos to contemplate his bad behavior (no elves ever went to Valinor). When he gets out on good behavior, he steals three glowing eggs from a group of dragons, killing dragon!Finwe and wounding dragon!Nerdanel in the process (similar process to Melkor leaving in the book). He then flees across the sea back to Middle-earth to reclaim his kingship. The rest of the dragon family chases after him, desperate to get their unhatched children/siblings back. The dragons work with the free peoples to over-throw Melkor, Feanor is killed at some point never seeing his lost eggs again. — @nighttimepatrons has some fricken awesome art of these dragons. Go check it out! —

Now, the dragons never tell their tentative allies that the ‘silmarils’ are eggs, so as far as anyone knows, the silmarils are just special gems that the dragons want back. Once Melkor is defeated, the elves/men/dwarves don’t give the remaining dragons the silmarils as agreed upon when the alliance was first made, keeping them for themselves (the light of the silmarils helps crops grow and keeps evil creatures away and are just all around very tempting things to keep hold of in a war-ruined land).

Inevitably, this leads to the dragons turning on the newly freed peoples (ie, welcome to the kinslayings on a massive scale). The dragons die one by one, the eggs always just out of reach. Celegorm has a classic western dragon arc with Luthien and Beren before they slay him. Finally, it’s down to Maedhors (the Enormous) and Maglor, and Celebrimbor who never took part in the slaughter for the silmarils because he loves elves, and he’s actually living in Eregion with the elves.

Because Kidnap Fam is kind of a requirement for us, M+M end up with young Elros and Elrond after another failed attempt to get a silmaril. M+M raise E+E and they become half-feral, fearless foster sons committed to helping their dragon dads get what’s theirs!

Okay, that was a lot but there you have the basis for the AU. Now on to some fun details.

The AU got it’s name because Elros is a silly guy who is very proud of how sneaky he can be, how stealthy. He calls himself Stealthros (get it? Stealthy Elros. Steathros. We’re so funny)

Now, because Elros and Elrond are So stealthy and sneaky and want to help their dads, who by this time are starting to give up, they decide to sneak into the treasury of the Noldor King and get the silmaril hidden within. Things go great until they get caught. Elros manages to escape (Stealthros for the win!) but Elrond gets tossed into a prison cell while the king figures out what to do.

Let’s talk about Gil-galad, the King of the Noldor.

Gil-galad, like many of the Noldor, was a thrall of Morgoth, freed after the dragons defeated the Vala. He bares a passing resemblance to Fingon, one of the free Noldor kings who died during the wars and dear friend of Maedhros. With some coaching from Cirdan (who never was a thrall), Gil-galad manages to convince the newly freed and leaderless Noldor that he is the son/grandson of Fingon. Whatever your thoughts on this deception, he’s doing a great shop of rebuilding the world and ensuring people don’t starve. Maedhros refuses to meet with him for any kind of treaties to end the attacks because he knows this upstart usurper is no relation of Fingon the Valiant. Gil-galad has the scars of a setting/rising star cut into his forehead. He doesn’t talk about it.

He's a good king, and he’s terrified when he ends up with a silmaril. He feels the Doom hanging over him and a bit of disappointment: from the stories, he expected something far grander from a silmaril, something glowing with otherworldly light, bright and holy; instead, all he has is a slightly shiny rock that collects dust and invites two nasty dragons to descend on the city. Whatever goodness and power that was housed in the thing is long gone. He hates it.

Now he has this this wild half-elf, foster son of the same monsters, too. He’s so Doomed.

He tries to talk with Elrond. In an ideal world, he’d get an agreement where he frees the boy and gives him the rock, but based on history, even that could bring death flying on dragon wings.

The talk doesn’t go well. Elrond appears to have forgotten his native language, and he only hisses and snaps at Gil-galad, even biting his hand when he gets too close!

There’s only one thing for it: he sends a message to Eregion, asking for someone who’s learned dragon-speech from Celebrimbor to home translate for him.

Celebrimbor is kind of a busybody, though, so he flies over to Lindon himself to see what’s going on and meet the elf-child his uncles raised.

Elrond bullies Celebrimbor. He’s so mean to the dragon 100x his size, it’s unbelievable. He says all kinds of things about Celebrimbor abandoning his family. He punches him in the nose!—Celebrimbor has no idea how to handle this from someone so small. He maybe cries a little. Gil-galad tries not to get second-hand embarrassment.

And that’s kind of it. I Elrond gets back to his dragon dads (Stealthros probably breaks him out), Gil-galad and Celebrimbor probably don’t die (but couldn’t you just imagine a scene like that one from HotD, with Elros on Maedhros chasing them down? shivers).

I’m sure Nightie has more awesome ideas to share (especially focused on the dragons)!

Ask me about fics that live rent-free in my head!

[somepsychopomp]

Monster!Odysseus AU

Well then! I'm now writing an AU where Odysseus is Scylla. (Literally making him the monster, literally making him the "same" as Scylla, etc etc etc.) This was supposed to be 1 scene but now i have a whole fic outlined 😭 So yeah, here's the rough draft of the first portion.

Basically, Odysseus failed to reunite with his family and in his grief, he transformed into a monster. He's now doing Scylla's thing and eating men alive but also he's super sad still.

Word count: Approx. 2k

Warning for blood and all that stuff.

The wooden ship groaned softly in the current, the sound of waving lapping against the hull everpresent. They were five days behind schedule due to a litany of bad luck: poor winds, violent storms, cloudy nights obscuring their view of the stars. They lost a good number of men to their misfortune. 

And the food was running ever lower. The farther they travelled, the less fish their nets turned up. 

Half of the two-hundred man crew laid below deck, sleeping in their hammocks after a full day of rowing. The other half took up their oars in an attempt to propel themselves home before hunger had its way with them.

The ship’s captain steered the vessel, studying the way ahead. For three days and three nights, he hadn’t slept in an effort to guide his men home. Ithaca should only be a day or two away, and at last, they had a mild wind to their backs. 

They needed to return home not only because their families were waiting for them, but because the King of Ithaca was not a patient man. He’d no doubt lash every man ten times, one for each day and night delayed. He’d do worse if he were in a foul mood by the time they arrived. 

The captain was no war general or soldier. He was merely a seaman who was paid to bring a ship to Sparta with goods to trade, and to come back with the king’s gold. All he wanted was to finish his job so he could close his eyes and rest. 

The route he had in mind was tricky and dangerous, however. He knew that up ahead, only a few hours away now, was a vast series of rocky islands jutting from the sea. They formed a kind of labyrinth, one large enough for a ship to pass through if they were careful. The captain didn’t fear some rough terrain, though. The most terrifying aspect was that, at an inevitable point in their passage, the rocks on either side of their ship would rise up and tower far above their heads. The narrow strait made of jagged stone could easily rip their ship to shreds if they weren’t careful. 

There were plenty of tales of wayward ships losing themselves on the rocks. Sailors said there were all sorts of hazards there, anything from shallow spots to run aground, to sirens waiting for them. It was risky to take the shortcut, but sailing around the oceanic canyon would add at least two more days to their voyage. 

The captain felt his stomach growl and steeled his nerves, issuing a silent prayer to the gods for safe passage. 

Ahead of him, the men rowing the oars were murmuring stories to each other to stave off the boredom and exhaustion. 

One man asked, “You know what they say about Ithaca’s previous king, right?”

This again. 

It was no doubt the most famous story to come out of rocky, weather-worn Ithaca in centuries.

“He killed himself, didn’t he?” a second man asked. 

“Wrong! They say that Odysseus of Ithaca still lives.”

“How can that be?” a third voice asked, still carrying the lighthearted tone of a boy, “He threw himself from the top of the palace into the sea over fifty years ago.”

The captain rolled his eyes. Everyone knew the story. No doubt the men will now embellish it to give the poor lad a scare. 

Over half a century ago, the great and terrible Trojan War raged for ten long years. When it ended, every man that remained sailed home without issue. All but poor, unlucky, wayward Odysseus. Despite the supposed sharpness of his mind, he wandered the sea and its islands, encountering all manner of people and beasts, for ten more miserable years. He went from a proud king to a haggard old man. And due to his foolishness, he lost everything. 

Every last soldier under his command, his ships, his mind. But he didn’t die, no. When Odysseus returned home at last, empty-handed and alone, it was to find Ithaca turned over to a new king. Odysseus walked into his former home to find his wife married to a much younger man.

All the world had assumed Odysseus was dead, leaving him in the past. And his young son, who might not even have existed, had long since been slain by the new king to keep him from attaining any political power. 

In his grief and madness, it was said that Odysseus leapt from the palace wall to meet his watery death below. 

Although, the captain had heard other versions of the tale. He heard men say that the new king drove Odysseus over the edge by spearpoint. Others proclaim that his former wife took one look at him that was so full of pity or disgust, that Odysseus killed himself in shame. The captain wasn’t so sure of that last variant, since the previous queen did die quite soon after she remarried. And that was its own river of rumors: poor Penelope died of a broken heart, poor Penelope was already in failing health when she married, poor Penelope happened to be a victim of her new king when a younger, prettier piece of meat walked by. The captain didn’t much care for those sorts of stories. 

Whatever way Penelope died, some dared to believe that Odysseus never made it home at all and that he was still out there, somewhere, wandering in circles. 

It was all in the past, as far as the captain was concerned. That young usurper, still their current king, was a white-haired elder himself by now. And the name Odysseus was nothing more than a ghost story that sailors used to scare each other with. 

The older men at the oars all chuckled, snapping him out of his thoughts. One of them said, “Aye, it’s all true! My grandfather swears it. When I was a young lad, he told me he was there on the day that Odysseus returned home. My grandfather worked in the palace, you see. And he watched with his own eyes as that old fool threw himself from the highest wall. But!” 

He paused, no doubt to savor the attention drawn to him, “But my grandfather swore on his own life that as Odysseus fell… he changed. What leapt from the wall was a man. What hit the water was a beast, no, a monster more horrible than anything else in the sea. It swam away, never to be seen again.”

There was a pregnant pause. For a moment, all that sounded was the occasional ruffle in the sails and the slap of oars against the water. 

“Really?” the young lad asked. 

A gruff laugh. “Of course not! My grandfather used to fill my head with all sorts of those crazy stories. Gave ya a good run around, though. Didn’t I?”

The men all fell into laughter, even the lad. The captain let them have it, knowing that any distraction from the fatigue and hunger was a good one. Within minutes, the first rocky spire rose from the sea. It was slate gray in the dull moonlight, an omen for what was to come. 

Soon, there were as many rocks jutting from the ocean as there were stars in the sky.

“Steady!” the captain called out as he guided the ship. By then, the rest of the crew had woken from their slumber to man the oars and adjust the sails. It was a constant fight to keep the ship from crashing into any of the stone pillars, running aground on any of the tiny patches of flat rock that claimed to be islands, or losing their oars as the ship was constantly being bumped and jostled from choppy waters. 

They were nearly to the strait. 

Overhead, the moonlight began to die out. The captain risked a glance above, only to see dark clouds forming over the strait. The rest of the sky was only sparsely populated with clouds, but for whatever reason, it looked like a terrible storm was brewing over their only exit out of this nightmare. 

The captain grit his teeth and commanded his men to light enough torches to see by. 

They soon entered what felt like a vast, endless cavern. The only source of light was the orange glow of their fires. It cast elongated, warped shadows across the stone walls to their side of the vessel, constantly tricking the captain into thinking the walls were closing in on them. 

When he thought he saw the smallest shaft of moonlight, he called out, “Nearly there!” 

A few voices cheered in response. No doubt the entire crew was out of breath and terrified by now. 

Just as they dared to hope, the whole vessel came to a grinding halt. The captain was nearly thrown off his feet, but managed to stay upright. The ship had come to such a sudden stop that he didn’t think they’d hit a shallow spot. Rather, it felt like they were caught on something. 

“Captain!” a voice toward the bow of the ship called, “Captain! Come look, it’s a man!” 

More and more men were gathering at the bow. What was going on?

The captain pushed his way to the front of the ship and gazed down at the water. 

He didn’t believe his eyes. Just barely illuminated by the glow of their torches, a man waded in the water. He kept his head bowed, allowing his gray-streaked hair to fall over his face and obscure most of his features. His skin was bare, he was treading water without a chiton or cloak. 

Something felt terribly off here. But their ship was stuck and there was a man in their way. 

“Hail!” the captain called, “Are you in need of saving?”

The man did not respond. A shiver passed through the captain’s body. The more he looked, the more he was sure that this strange man wasn’t wading. Though they could only see his head and part of his upper body, his shoulders didn’t move. His chest didn’t move. He looked completely still. 

Perhaps he was standing. Perhaps they did hit the ground and the water in this portion of the strait was so shallow that a man could stand in it. 

The captain said, “Stranger! What is your name?”

How long had this poor man been here?

At last, the man looked up. 

The captain nearly staggered back, suddenly sick with fear. 

The man before them bore wide, unblinking eyes that wept with silent tears. But his eyes were not full of sorrow. They were full of hunger. 

Something burst from the water behind them, snarling like a wolf but ten times as loud. A man screamed but by the time the captain turned around, he could only catch a glimpse of a black blur retreating into the water. A torch rolled across the deck before someone else snatched it up. 

The captain shouted, “Take up arms!” 

The men drew their spears, but they soon learned it was all futile. 

A sound like snapping jaws drew their attention back to the stranger in the water. He didn’t make a sound as he began to rise. He revealed his full torso and looked like a normal man. Muscled, tanned skin, scarred. He looked like a seasoned sailor, a warrior. But he just. Kept. Rising. 

Instead of two legs, a massive trunk followed. It was almost impossible for the captain’s eyes to make sense of. The best he could describe it, it was like seeing a creature that was half man and half serpent. The beast’s lower half was covered in scales the color of tarnished bronze and speckled with black. 

The trunk widened and widened as the man rose above their heads. 

At last, the captain saw what had snatched up one of his men. He wished he had the courage to weep. But all he could do was stand in terrified silence. 

Six long necks sprouted from what could be considered the monster’s waist, each covered in those same tarnished scales. Each neck terminated in a snarling wolf’s head, one of them still gnawing on the remains of their crewmate, but the heads were wrong. 

They bore the long muzzles, amber eyes, and triangular ears of a wolf, but their skulls were wrapped in leathery, black scales. The eyes glowed with more light than their torches and bore slitted pupils. 

As the wolf heads snarled and growled, the captain caught a glimpse of the teeth within their maws. Three rows of needle-like teeth layered upon each other like a shark. 

The scent of rot and death filled the air. Some men started to gag, others cried out to the gods to save them. 

The captain did not remember what happened next, only that the smell of blood overtook his senses. 

The crew tried to row and tried to fight back, but it was futile. The beast had them in its clutches as its heads moved faster than the eye. One by one, each head stole a man and left behind his trembling, screaming companions. There was nowhere to run to and nowhere to hide. The captain was sure they were all going to perish. 

All while the face of the man looming above them never changed. He watched them die, he ate them, all while weeping his silent tears. 

But as soon as he had arrived, he was gone. 

The monster sank below the surf and their ship was moving freely again. They rowed for their lives until they were breaching the other side of the strait. The moonlight cast its silver glow upon the endless bloodstains soaking into the wood. 

They lost six men, but none who survived dared to stop rowing for the fear that they were being followed. The captain risked a glance back only one time. 

In the exit to the strait, the upper half of a man watched them flee before vanishing under the water.

[raplinesmoon]

Alone With You In The Aether (KSJ x GN!Reader)

pairing: lunar deity!Seokjin! x reader (no specified pronouns) genre(s): angst… i’m sorry, a tiny glimmer of fluff at the end au(s): some kind of mythology mixed with dystopian mixed with post-apocalyptic au word count: 2.1k warnings: implied character d*aths (non-graphic), mentions of blood, lots of sad thoughts rating: 18+

summary: Seokjin thinks he's hard to remember, but your faith leaves him surprised every time.

a/n: if i had a nickel for everytime I wrote Seokjin in a strange apocalyptic, dystopian au, I'd have two nickels. It's weird that it happened twice. Also why do the most gut-wrenching, angsty ideas come to me for Seokjin (give this man a break)! Consider this my long overdue bday gift for him. This fic draws on this prompt, the song 134340 (of course), the book by Olivie Blake (for the title and angsty vibes) and the films Sunshine (2007) and Snowpiercer (2013). It's wildly experimental and may be slightly bad considering I haven't written for Jin in so long, but I hope you give it a chance <;3

Seokjin was used to the dark. He looked out upon the night sky every night, a vast sea of midnight black as far as the eye could see, lit up by tiny specks of stars and satellites, with him at the center of it, perched on the crescent moon, mesmerized by the world below.

The humans were fascinated by him, and Seokjin by them. Every night, they’d look up at the sky, pointing and exclaiming at the bright white orb that lit everything up. They’d offer their prayers and make their sacrifices – for peace, and prosperity, for good fortune to enter their homes and bless their families. And Seokjin would always deliver – whether it was through abundant crops, or the blessing of another child to the human race.

He was the gentle, all-giving light in their eyes, shielding them from the harshness of their day-to-day lives, ruled by his much more tempestuous counterpart, Hoseok, otherwise known as the sun. 

Until the day everything crumbled into dust.

The gods had never expected Hoseok to lose the battle against the malevolent demon that tormented the world, evil at its very core. Eternity had been promised to them as the Earth’s caretakers, tending to and sowing the seeds for humans to thrive. The devastation was profound at the loss of their beloved companion, none of them able to do anything as they watched the ichor leech out of his being, plunging the world into an eternal winter.

Paralyzed by shock and grief, they’d called a tribunal, lost on how to move forward without their beloved sun. Seokjin offered up his palace in the heavens, the deafening silence at his marble table proof that none of them had been expecting any of this to come to fruition.

Yoongi, the keeper of time, was the first to speak up. 

“It’ll happen to all of us,” his voice is gruff, leading to wide-eyed stares and gasps of shock and confusion around the table. “The humans grew weary of Hoseok, and the light that he provided. They destroyed the earth that he sowed, built buildings tall enough to block out his light, and retreated deeper and deeper into the underground and the shadows. They stopped believing.”

Seokjin ponders over Yoongi’s words, a pit growing in his stomach when he realized Yoongi was right. In the eons that he’d been tasked with being the caretaker of the moon, humans had always sought to conquer the land they’d been bestowed. He welcomed them when they tried to explore his dominion up above, lips twisting in amusement at their curiosity. But as he watched them grow more and more intelligent, fueled by Namjoon’s gifts as the god of knowledge, with that intelligence came greed, and its horrifying consequences. 

“They’ll lose faith in all of us, one by one. As the earth begins to crumble without its sun, their faith too, will weaken. And when the last person stops believing, we too will vanish alongside them.”

And Seokjin, who’d always been docile and kind to the humans, realized that with the advent of this new chapter in the universe, that he’d likely be the first to die, the humans’ faith in him as temperamental as the waxing and waning of the moon they searched for in the sky every night. A moon they could no longer see. 

If Seokjin had lungs, the dust would cling to them, burning up his insides, stealing the very breath from him. He couldn’t remember how long it’d been since the death of the sun, whether it was decades, centuries, or even millennia. The dust clouded everything, rising up into the atmosphere, washing away the oceans, and Jungkook, the sea god, along with it.

One by one, the gods fell out of favour, helpless against the hopelessness which had begun to thrive amongst the humans. Seokjin wondered how any of them were alive at all, continuing to cling onto the fragile threads of life when everything that sustained it disappeared around them.

Most of all, he wondered how he’d managed to make it so long, his faint light present despite the cloud of dust. How people believed in a moon they could no longer see, one that could no longer promise hope of fertility in a barren land, where people picked at the dirt for food, where children stopped being a blessing and turned into a distant hope that evolved into a curse.

Who was left to believe in him, the weakest of all deities, powerless without the help of others?

And yet, Seokjin persisted. He watched the Earth freeze over, and what was left of the remaining humans crowd onto an old locomotive that traveled alongside whatever light remained of the fallen sun.

There were no more prayers for peace, for serenity. The prayers turned vengeful, resentful, all the gods left cowering in fear at how the tables had turned.

Seokjin stayed away from it all. He became listless, numb inside, just waiting for the day that he too, would vanish.

But that day never came. 

Dust. Dust as far as the eye could see. It was all that you could make out in the cloudy sky as you gazed out of the train, clinging to rocks, to the snow and ice that surrounded you.

You remembered the day the sun died. It’d been like any other day. Except you hadn’t been able to fall asleep. Restless on the scratchy sheets of your bed, you’d wrapped your blanket around you, staring out the window at the calming light of the moon. For as long as you remembered, you’d been obsessed with the gentle object in the sky, in awe of the radiant yet serene light it brought to the world, how it changed in relation to the passage of time. It was silly, but you’d always imagined there was someone up there taking care of the moon in the sky, fueled by stories your mother would tell you as a child.

Lulled to bed by it, you awoke to start your day as normal, remembering to give your mother a goodbye kiss before work. Nearly five hours later, while you were staring at your computer screen, the whole world exploded into darkness.

All you could hear were the screams of panic, objects clattering to the floor as people scrambled to rush outside, only to find that the darkness was everywhere, the once bright sun now a dull but sinister shade of crimson. Like the colour of blood. 

Your first instinct was to rush home, to check on your parents. Pulling up the light of your phone, you prayed the little battery you had left would be enough to sustain you. Instead, you came upon an empty building, shattered objects strewn about, and no sign of your parents anywhere.

It took nearly a week to learn of how many humans had actually perished in the panic surrounding the sun’s death, and even longer to come to terms with the fact that you’d never be able to navigate the darkness to come by.

You looked up at the smoke rising through the sky, creating the beginnings of the fine cloud of dust that would come to dominate the atmosphere, and saw it.

The faint glow of the moon, still there, still persisting. And so would you. 

From that day, the moon became your comfort, your protector. Even as the sky became more hazy, its presence in the night sky always kept you at ease.

Even when you boarded the train, knowing it was your only hope for survival in the increasingly harsh and hostile world, you never stopped looking out the window every night, imagining its soft light behind your eyes. 

“I know you’re there,” you whispered into the darkness. “It’s crazy, but even though I can’t see you, Moon, just imagining you still up there, in the sky like always, makes everything seem okay. It reminds me of why I treasure this world, why I want to keep holding on.”

. . .

Seokjin is jolted out of his haze by the words — he hadn’t heard anyone speak to him in so long. He knew by the fact that he was still around meant that there was someone who still believed, but their faith had always been silent. Until today. 

Seokjin feels warmth wash over him, warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

And so, into the aether, he talks back, taken aback by the conviction in his voice.

“I’ll always be here.”

Yoongi was the only one nowadays who wasted his time visiting Seokjin’s domain. The once lavish palace, with its halls of marble as bright as the moon itself, filled with jewels that sparkled like stars, now became decrepit, a mirror of Seokjin’s own hollowness.

Seokjin envied Yoongi, his immortal status nearly untouchable. Because while time became harder to track for the humans on the locomotive, none of them could deny its existence. None of them could stop the passage of time. There would always be people who believed in Yoongi.

“I never realized how lonely our existence was until we lost Hoseok,” Yoongi sits next to him on the staircase. “How foolish we were to think that we held power over the humans, when really, their faith was all that held together our fragile state of being.”

“I know you’re lonely, hyung,” the name surprises Seokjin. Yoongi hadn’t called him that in such a long time. “But haven’t you always been that way, even before we lost Hoseok?”

Seokjin ponders on Yoongi’s words, thinking back to the eternity he’d spent as caretaker of the night sky, watching humans sleep under his care. He’d yearned for a long time to connect with them, to spend time with them like the other gods did with their subjects, but they’d always forget about him come the dawn, the day and its promises far more alluring in their eyes.

“Who could be foolish enough to still believe in someone, something they can’t see?” Seokjin spits out. “I can offer no warmth or protection to the world. Some times I think it would be better for them to just let go, whoever it is. So we could both move on.”

 Yoongi pauses for a moment, taking in the distressed look on Seokjin’s face.

“I’ve seen them, you know,” Seokjin blinks at Yoongi, a smirk twisting on his brother’s lips. “They’re very beautiful.”

Yoongi puts a hand on his shoulder, his all-knowing eyes twinkling with something magical.

“Don’t let go just yet.”

“You’re all I have,” you whisper into your pillow, eyes heavy with sleep, but also with the weight of continuing to live this half-life. “I feel your absence everywhere.”

Seokjin wishes he could comb through the aether, resist the dust and smoke, weather the frigid ice, lay a hand on his shoulder to tell you he’s here. He’s here because of you, because while you believe you’re nothing, you’re everything. You’re the only thing he has left too.

He wonders how different it would have been if he’d met you in a past life, one where the tether between you two wasn’t something that could snap at any moment. Where the red string wasn’t frayed and splitting into pieces. Maybe you would have been a daring explorer, or a regal ruler. Maybe you would have been able to see Seokjin properly, to touch him, press your lips to his.

But maybe you were always destined to fall in love in this cruel, lonely way.

Seokjin doesn’t even notice the aether vanishing around him one day, until the moon, once his noble perch, gives out from underneath him, and he’s falling, tumbling through the endless vortex that is the universe. 

That’s how he knows there’s no one left to believe anymore. That you’re gone.

His heart races, and he calls out for Yoongi, for someone, anyone to stop the madness, closing his eyes.

All of a sudden, he halts, a gentle hand reaching out to clasp his own. Seokjin blinks open his eyes, and he sees you.

But you’re not you. Not as he’d known you. You’re glowing, a soft aura to match his own, a faint smile on your face.

“I never stopped believing.”

The void shifts around the two of you, spinning until Seokjin recognizes the heavens, the bright twinkling of stars in the sky. The two of you are in his palace.

Seokjin understands the moment he looks out onto the horizon, seeing the green of forests and the blue of oceans, the earth healing before him.

It’s you. A new star born from a dying one. A new dawn, one neither of you has to face alone.

a/n pt. 2: The lore for this honestly goes crazyyy, I could have taken it in so many different directions. But in case you're confused, OC is reborn as the new sun (rip Hoseok, gone but never forgotten), and also Seokjin's consort so they will live happily ever after for eternity. And those pesky humans get a second chance too! As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

[smaller-comfort]

Aephorul/B'st/Resh'an (Modern AU) Resh'an always gets what he wants, one way or another; Aephorul might as well accept that fact, and learn to enjoy it.

It's the fucking-on-the-kitchen-table one. Whew. I'm on a roll lately; I'm aiming for at least 1 more finished story by the end of the week.

Some general notes under the cut about how I imagine they all look in this universe, but most of these details aren't that important.

B'st:

My general image of human B'st is like...a cross between Sam from Scavenger's Reign and certain incarnations of Cable from Marvel comics. Beard is optional. (I can't decide, honestly. I think he probably *should* have a beard, but I haven't written it into anything yet and I'm genuinely too lazy to go back in and add it.)

Used to do competitive bodybuilding in his younger years (he's in his early 60s now); still works out, but does more strength training/crossfit kind of stuff, and not body sculpting. Has lots of padding over his muscles; he's just big, in every dimension. 6'4" or thereabouts.

Well groomed; keeps his hair/beard neat, always looks put together. Is entirely aware of how well his ass fills out a pair of jeans. Is also aware of how good he looks in leather, but he's been out of that scene for a long time.

He's a silver fox if a silver fox were a bear. (A polar bear? I'm pretty sure that's a thing.) Whether or not he has a beard, he's got a lot of body hair.

He drives a 20 year old Subaru hatchback that looks comically small next to him.

Resh'an:

About 5'10" and kind of squishy; he occasionally laments the fact that he's not as thin as he was in college, but Aephorul loves that he actually has an ass now. Has never willingly set foot inside of a gym in his life, and thinks it's cute that B'st and Aephorul can talk about weightlifting together.

(gotta start somewhere Resh'an weighs like 125lbs soaking wet. Runs on adderall and anxiety, and he picks up a nicotine habit during grad school, which doesn't help. Once he's better medicated, his metabolism slows down to something more human, and less hummingbird.)

Starting to go gray at his temples, which Aephorul also finds incredibly hot. Likes to lean into the mousy professor thing because it throws people off when they discover he's a trollfaced pervert.

Dark auburn hair, medium brown eyes, passes for white most of time. (Haven't quite decided what real-world analogue area his family is from. Middle east/central/west Asian somewhere, probably mixed race.)

Shaves/waxes most of his body hair because he only had to get his pubes caught in the locking mechanism on a chastity cage once before learning his lesson.

Aephorul:

He was 6', but lost half an inch or so after the accident. He's still obsessive about going to the gym, but he doesn't have the muscle mass he had in his 20s, which frustrates him a lot.

Struggles with body dysmorphia post-accident. Tends to walk with a slight limp- he has a cane he's supposed to use, but never does. His shoulders/hips are slightly crooked, which he thinks is a lot more noticeable than it actually is. Doesn't like anyone other than Resh'an seeing him naked; can't always handle Resh'an looking at him all the time, either.

His hair went white when he was a kid after a bad illness, and he's still extremely vain about it. (He is terrified of losing his hair.) Black eyes, and a darker base complexion than Resh'an; his family is from southwest Asia.

Keeps his bush trimmed but not shaved; his body hair is fairly dark. Used to shave his legs when he was younger and did drag, but doesn't anymore. (There's a non-zero amount of Gender Stuff going on with him that I don't really want to get into, but some of it might come up in later stories.)

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Queen magnificent: their probably lost and afraid and cold..... oh my poor baby!😭

baby Nightwing reader: *pimp slaps a Jaguar* do you know who my mommy isI?!?

Oh dear... The rainforest creatures have just met their most sassy snack/adversary... Reader. Reader just walks around the rainforest, blissful and happy and playing with a frog, then a python tries to coil around them... Only to be nearly crushed to death in a hug by a very happy dragonet. A jaguar had stalked them, looking for a meal, only to be slapped by Reader and told it's being a bad kitty! A spider tries to bite them, fangs full of venom... SPLAT! No more spider...

They can either be prey, be Reader's pet, or they can meet their Mommy and Daddy, who are a lot meaner than them! (Understatement of the year). The moment a RainWing finds them, they're flapping all the way back to the queen, their royal consorts, and their herd of dragonets, as they finally found the missing baby! (And also don't want to die because they weren't fast enough).

Reader is squished tight in a hug by Queen Morph, they're being scolded by their dad Woebringer, their other parents and their friends are checking them over for injuries, and Reader's friends and siblings are almost crying because they missed them...

At this point, the dragonets end up with one of Queen Morph's partners always with them, always watching, and ready to spray venom or breathe fire on any idiot who tries to steal a baby or hurt them...

(Oh... What about a The Missing Princex AU? Starring: At least seven very angry, p*ssed off, slightly sadistic adult dragons who had their baby/nibling stolen, a herd of heirs who always wondered what their missing sibling was like, and a missing princex Reader, who only just found out they might be royalty and went to the Kingdom of the Sea to see if it was a good place to call home...)

[ineffablelunatic]

Ghosts pirate AU

Captain - the captain of the ship, obviously. There is a small mutiny in the equivalent of the episode "Getting Out" but they make him Captain again when they realise they're useless without him. He's a good and fair captain and once they get past the initial intimidation, he's actually very loveable.

Thomas - the ship's (very dramatic) scribe. He's very in love with Alison and he tries to add poetry to the ship's notes. It doesn't work out well. He had a sweetheart back on land at one point, but after receiving the news that she had married his cousin in his absence, he first tried to walk the plank and then swiftly moved on to Alison.

Kitty - stowed away on the ship as a young child and is now an essential member of the crew for moral support. Her own family were bad to her and as such the Captain treats her as his daughter. She takes in injured animals, meaning that the ship now has a small zoo in its hold. Nobody knows how she finds them, but they would die for her.

Pat - the first mate. He seconds Captain's points but would never actually want to lead the ship on his own. He has a pet parrot called Goldie who overheard Carol and Daley mocking him and now occasionally mocks him too (allowing for a Season 4 Christmas Special arc). He frequently teaches the other crew members important life lessons, and his sunny outlook brightens everyone's day. He gets seasick sometimes.

Robin - the ship's navigator. He was the original owner of the ship and nobody quite knows how long he's been around, but he's surprisingly wise. He navigates using the stars and even though they frequently get lost, he says the resulting adventure makes up for it. Everyone agrees.

Julian - the ship drunk. He was once a high ranking nobleman, but ran away from his family and responsibilities for a life on the sea. He spends most of his time drinking and playing chess with Robin, although he has his occasional moments of depth. He teaches the parrot to swear.

Humphrey - the lookout. He's afraid of heights but doesn't mention it because he doesn't want to be a bother. He was taken into custody due to the actions of his wife, the pirate queen, and was saved from imminent execution by Captain and his crew.

Mary - the cook. She burns all of the food but nobody ever complains because they don't want to upset her. She writes a lot of letters to an old friend back on land, but the friend doesn't seem to know that she's a pirate. It's implied that she was chased out of her hometown and ended up on the ship, but nobody knows why.

Fanny - the disgruntled hostage. She was taken from a cruise ship by the pirates, and they were planning on leaving her on a desert island because of all her complaining. However, their ship was almost hijacked by rival pirates, and through some combination of extreme complaining and entitlement, she scared them away. They keep her around just in case.

Annie - Mary's childhood friend. They grew up together and were incredibly close, with Annie helping Mary find her voice. However, when Mary had to leave her hometown, she also had to leave Annie, and so Annie waits at a cliff edge to watch the incoming ships, hoping one of them will bring Mary back. Most of the people in her town think she's waiting for the return of some lover or husband.

Havers - once Captain's first mate. The crew speculates about the precise nature of their relationship, but Captain is private enough that he would never tell anyone. However, Havers left the pirate life to join the British Navy in a clemency programme. After he left, Captain was heartbroken. He still hopes that Havers will return some day, and often crew members catch him staring off across the sea as if he'll see Havers' ship coming towards him across the horizon.

Plague Ghosts - the lesser crew. They mainly keep to themselves in the hold of the ship, and most of the main crew try and avoid them because they have scurvy. They all stick together, though, and they keep the ship running, although they get little recognition for it.

Jemima - the child of one of the lesser crew. She was raised on the ship and will one day make a strong pirate - possibly even a pirate queen. She isn't seen around the ship much, but she can sometimes be heard singing haunting old sea shanties from the stern of the ship. Other passing ships assume she's a siren.

Humphrey's wife - the pirate queen. She's wanted in at least 10 countries for extreme piracy, and her actions almost got Humphrey killed. There was always a barrier between them, of both language and culture, and yet Humphrey still tried to take the fall for her treachery. It's unknown how she feels about him, but every so often the ship gets a delivery of a large number of coins. They assume this is a thank you.

Alison and Mike - new hostages. The crew jokes about Alison being related to Fanny because they're both hostages, but due to her far nicer temperament and friendly nature, she soon becomes a staple of the ship. Mike does handiwork around the ship, and although still very unnerved by the pirates, tries his best to live with them. Alison makes negotiations when the ship makes landfall because her social skills are far better than the rest of the crew, and she's probably the only one who wouldn't be arrested on sight. Alison knows full well about Thomas's affections but refutes them at every turn.

The boat - The Button. It used to be called The Rogue Rider when Robin owned it, but when Kitty joined the crew, she would only call it the Button (for reasons unknown), and the name stuck. The ship has been around for who knows how long, and carries secrets that few could even guess at. Sometimes it even seems to have its own sentience, although nobody understands how. What they do know is that when a new crew member comes aboard, there's already a room waiting for them, and sometimes they'll enter their room only to find it has rearranged itself. The ship always seems to know what the crew need at any given time.

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

5k Masterlist

5 Seconds of Naughty (ao3) - sir_red luke/ashton, michael/calum E, 5k

Summary: Shameless smut about 5SOS.

Arthurian Romances (ao3) - therjolras michael/ashton T, 5k

Summary: Ashton’s in a bit of a tangle when he’s rescued by a purple-haired knight-in-leather-jacket.

Dating Protocols of Santa’s Elves (ao3) - allsassnoclass (brightblackholes) michael/luke T, 5k

Summary: Or: 5 times Luke brings a kid to Santa’s Grotto and 1 time he brings himself

do the things that you’d only read about (ao3) - heartbreakgirl michael/luke N/R, 5k

Summary: When he looks over, Michael’s eyes are open and he’s grinning from ear to ear.

“I love you.”

He smiles shyly, eyes rolling fondly. “I love you too, Michael.”

or, book worm Luke & bad boy Michael

he’s got blue eyes deep like the sea (ao3) - orphan_account luke/ashton M, 5k

Summary: He groans, a sickening pain shooting through him. He can feel something wet beginning to trail down his leg, and in his hazy mind, he just barely manages to put together that it’s slick, and he’s just presented.

Fuck, he’s an omega.

(or, the one where luke goes into his first heat at a party, and it all goes downhill from there.)

he was sunshine (i was midnight rain) - @sup3rbloom (haveufoundwhaturlookingfor) luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 5k

Summary: Luke and Ashton are roommates, which sounds perfectly fine, but Ashton is the biggest grump according to Luke. At least, only during the Christmas holidays. Luke makes it his mission to get Ashton to like Christmas by the end of the month.

hiraeth (ao3) - Oceanii OT4 T, 5k

Summary:  hiraeth - (n) a homesickness for a home you can’t return to, or that never was —– or; a 5sos au apocalypse style. 

i always wonder where you’ve been (ao3) - mukelftv (eddiethebanisheds) michael/calum T, 5k

Summary: Luke was on the brink of giving up dating for good.

It started out a game… (ao3) - SilentlyFighting michael/luke G, 5k

Summary: It started out a game - a joke - but slowly became the truth ….but was I ready to accept that?

I will pick you up if you fall to pieces (ao3) - michaelclfford luke/ashton, implied michael/calum G, 5k

Summary: Ashton has a really bad day and he realises that, just like Luke says, being a big boy doesn’t necessarily mean being invincible.

Knee Socks, Sweaters, & Kitten Boys (ao3) - KiribakuBabe michael/luke E, 5k

Summary: The one where Luke loves wearing stockings whenever Michael isn’t home and then he gets caught wearing them..

make you blush (ao3) - dazedlight (opinionoutpost) luke/ashton T, 5k

Summary: “Luke peers up, and he’s sure his heart does stop this time as he shrinks in on himself, worrying at his bottom lip. He really doesn’t need this right now. In fact, he needs the opposite of this – he really, really doesn’t want to talk to Ashton Irwin at this moment, or any moment, to be honest, because he thinks his stomach might fall out of his ass if he tries.”

Or, Luke is a dweeby Year 10 who has a crush on the star of the musical.

Rockstar - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) T, 5k

Summary: “I’m gonna buy you a drink.”

Ashton mumbles, his cheeks feeling hot and his body feeling lost, “Just one.”

And it really is just the one.

It’s just one drink.

Roses Are Red (ao3) - mukeclemmings luke/calum, minor michael/ashton T, 5k

Summary: Ashton and Luke open a flower shop next door to a tattoo parlor, and relationships blossom (quite literally).

say you want me and dont be nice (send those shivers running down my spine) (ao3) - orphan_account michael/calum N/R, 5k

Summary: :+: Calum and Michael are in gangs, and when Calum gets slightly turned on by the gun in Michael’s hands, things get dirty :+:

something of you (ao3) - theonlyreason michael/luke M, 5k

Summary: Out of all the three, Luke had always considered Michael the closest to him. He never felt uncomfortable about the way Michael flicks his ear randomly, pushes him a bit too hard in interviews, headlocks him on their way to the stage where most of the time, he could swear he felt a muscle tear, stuff like that. It was a playful manner. Luke had always seen that in Michael, and for some ironic reason, he felt safe with it. But things start to get weird after Luke had the most erotic dream involving Michael, and he enjoyed it himself.

taking flight (ao3) - strxngersagain luke/calum, michael/ashton G, 5k

Summary: Luke likes routine. He likes getting up every morning in his tiny apartment he shares with Michael and getting the same train to the airport every morning. He likes going to the dive bar on Hunter Street on fridays with his friends. He likes his routine.

————

Luke works at Starbucks at Sydney International Airport. Calum is a security guard at the same airport. Luke spends most of his mornings looking forward to when Calum comes for a coffee on his break. Calum spends most of his mornings looking forward to when he gets to see Luke on his break.

taking the long way home (ao3) - softirwin luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 5k

Summary: “May we have your attention for flight BA8227,” the tinny voice of the announcement says, and Ashton’s stomach sinks. They never announce anything he wants to hear; there’s never any we’ve upgraded hardworking and broke session drummer Ashton Irwin to first class, he’s also been given unlimited air miles and a refund on his overpriced tuna melt. “We are sorry to announce that this flight is delayed by approximately seven hours. This is due to unforeseen adverse weather conditions. I repeat-”

-

aka their flight is delayed au

We’ve been waiting for a smell like yours. (ao3) - Abbypd ot4 M, 5k

Summary: “Are you alright?” he asked, and Luke turned his head to face the boy. He opened his mouth to answer but the boy sniffed him and pulled a face Luke could not quite place. “Fuck, want me to get you to Ashton safely?” he asked, and Luke looked at him, confusion very obvious in his eyes. “The scent isn’t very strong yet, but it’ll get worse within a few minutes.” He explained, though Luke still didn’t understand. Niall started pulling Luke with him. “What is going on?” the youngest blonde asked, following the boy towards the exit of the classroom because he didn’t really have a choice.

Or where Luke goes into heat in a class he doesn’t share with his three alpha’s

[themculibrary]

Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier Masterlist 2

part one

Abstraction (ao3) - EliotRosewater T, 112k

Summary: Bucky Barnes wasn't the only thing from the past that had been resurrected.

By Any Other Name (ao3) - Argenteus_Draco bucky/natasha T, 14k

Summary: “Steve," Sam says, "that doesn’t explain anything. Who else is is part of ‘they?’ Why would you send Barnes anywhere that isn’t serious psychological counseling? And why, for the love of God, does fondu make you giggle like a schoolgirl?”

In which Bucky reconciles with his past, Steve reconciles with his friends, and Natasha reconciles with herself. Bonus appearances by Sam Wilson and Tony Stark who, surprising no one, is the functional one.

can salt taint sea-flowers, grief, happiness? (ao3) - stellahibernis steve/bucky M, 18k

Summary: “But you’re my friend.”

Steve blinked, his lips twisting, and Bucky was sure he understood all too well, could see everything that was going on in his head with more clarity than Bucky really wanted to. Yet, the question Steve asked still felt like being punched.

“Am I really?”

When Bucky realized he’d need help after escaping from Hydra after the helicarriers fell, he returned to New York. The Avengers helped him get better, and he was doing well enough, but there were still things that were difficult, among them his relationship with Steve.

There were things he felt he had to hide, and he tried to keep them from interfering, but they only ended up driving a wedge into their relationship, and what was worse, he didn’t realize how bad it was until Steve was already leaving, getting on his bike and heading out to find his own peace.

Damaged (ao3) - AraniaDraws (AraniaArt), witchwood_hull steve/bucky T, 25k

Summary: Steve Rogers meets a dog, foils Project Insight, finds a friend, takes a break, and discovers an answer to a very important question.

Bucky Barnes meets a dog, fails a mission, gains his freedom, explores a city, does his job, and regains the joy of being human.

Fragments (ao3) - The_Heart_of_Leo T, 1k

Summary: All Steve wants is for Bucky to remember. All Bucky wants is to not forget.

i can feel the cold changing us inside (ao3) - tesselated steve/bucky M, 24k

Summary: Months later, when he’s sitting on the bench in the park in Washington D.C. he knows Steve Rogers jogs in, when Steve stops dead in his tracks looking like he saw a ghost (and really, he did), the first words out of his mouth are, “Have you been to Brooklyn lately?”

++

a post-tws bucky recovery fic

I Found You (ao3) - AWriting bucky/clint, steve/sam, pepper/tony M, 15k

Summary: Bucky always knew Steve would catch up with him eventually. He just assumed it wouldn't be for quite a while. To his surprise, it's not even Steve who finds him first.

i'm going to leave you shivering (ao3) - buries steve/natasha E, 5k

Summary: While on mission to find the Winter Soldier, Steve and Natasha hide out in one of Fury’s safe houses in the middle of nowhere. When the snow settles in and their heat goes out, they have to rely on one another to keep each other warm.

Memories From My Heart (ao3) - christywantspizza steve/bucky G, 3k

Summary: A year after pulling Steve from the Potomac River and letting himself be convinced to stay in the The Avengers Tower with him, Bucky still hasn't remembered the true nature of the relationship he and Steve used to have. Steve, being true to himself, prefers to give Bucky space and decided that telling him they used to date would complicate things, so it's up to Natasha to fix the situation and give them a nudge in the right direction.

Moose (ao3) - GalaxyThreads G, 8k

Summary: OR: How Bucky getting a therapy dog accidentally causes Loki and Bucky to become friends. (Post-Winter Soilder AU) (gen)

see the stars again (ao3) - radiantbeams steve/bucky, past steve/peggy N/R, 22k

Summary: Bucky stared at the smoke coming off of his cigarette. He sighed, hanging his head and pressing the heel of his hand into his eye. “I’m so lost, Steve.”

Steve took a risk and reached out to grip the sleeve of Bucky’s jacket. He leaned forward, holding on tightly to Bucky’s shoulder and pressed their foreheads together. He breathed out shakily and tried to keep his voice steady.

“I’ve got you, Buck-- I’ve found you.”

--

Everyone’s always searching for something; it’s knowing when you’ve found it that’s the hard part.

Scream 'Til the World Has Gone Deaf (ao3) - Kilameia T, 2k

Summary: Steve’s memory is perfect. Sometimes it’s more of a curse than a blessing. Sometimes memories play out in front of him. Sometimes nightmares do instead.

With HYDRA in the process of being burned to the ground, Natasha is learning that Steve Rogers is more human than Captain America ever was.

Seventeen (ao3) - Face_of_Poe G, 2k

Summary: Sam Wilson is very happy chasing cold leads on their missing person's case; said missing person is less keen on the matter.

Social Distancing (ao3) - DementedPixie steve/bucky G, 10k

Summary: After the events of The Winter Soldier, Steve Rogers enlists the help of his friends to find Bucky and to offer him a home.

there's a bear in the woods (ao3) - itsnotbleak steve/bucky M, 64k

Summary: James is not Bucky Barnes. He’s not the Winter Soldier either. He’s a blank slate. A whole new person. He knows he can shoot pretty straight and he doesn’t like green jello; he knows he thinks Harry Potter is stupid and he thinks he might be able to speak Mandarin. Beyond that he’s a mystery. He doesn’t know himself, and he sure as fuck doesn’t know Steve Rogers.

Here’s the thing: James hasn’t been entirely truthful.

In which James Buchanan Barnes, whoever the hell he is, is just trying to get on with paying off his debt to society, and he doesn’t need Captain America following him around like a lost puppy. Meanwhile, Steve’s overjoyed to have his best friend back, honest, whether he remembers him or not, Tony thinks he’s probably going to murder them all, and Natasha thinks it can’t hurt to be prepared. Sam would just like them to get some therapy. Oh, and Hydra’s up to no good in Brighton Beach.

we create our own demons (ao3) - andibeth82 clint/natasha T, 20k

Summary: She reminds him of a fire burning angrily through ravaged villages, of a wolf on the run and a light in the darkness. She reminds him of anger and fear, of death and salvation all at once. She reminds him of Natasha, and, Clint realizes a few seconds later, that’s because she is.

[Post Winter Soldier, Clint and Natasha attempt to rebuild their lives without S.H.I.E.L.D. Meanwhile, Hydra has perfected Extremis and is using it to hone its deadliest weapon yet – clones of the Red Room’s greatest assassin, Natalia Romanova.]

[femslashhistorian]

Trekkerverse Christine Chapel/T’Pring series fic rec

Alsike is one of my favorite authors, but I had not read any of their Christine Chapel/T’Pring fics until recently as I had never watched Strange New Worlds. In late December they published an AU that sounded like fun and I overcame my reluctance and I read it (after all I had watched other Star Trek before). I did not regret it as I was able to get into this hilarious story and I loved it. (Hint: read The One Where They're Professors)

After that I was hooked on the ship and continued to read this series of T'Pristine stories, and I couldn't stop.

They blend philosophy, Star Trek and a beautiful love story into a spectacular fanfiction trilogy.

Trekkerverse Series by Alsike

Fandom: Star Trek: Strange New Worlds (TV)  

Ship: Christine Chapel/T'Pring (f/f)

The Trekkerverse series also includes a couple of loosely connected stories for another ship, but the three Christine Chapel/T’Pring stories form a trilogy

1) A Hermeneutics of Ass-Fucking by Alsike

Complete, 1 chapter, 6k words, 2022

Mature; No Archive Warnings Apply

“So far as I can tell, most worthwhile pleasures on this earth slip between gratifying another and gratifying oneself. Some would call that an ethics.” Maggie Nelson, The Argonauts

Dr Christine Chapel always figured that T'Pring was a Vulcan's Vulcan, and never expected to find her here, on Betazed, living a very different life than she'd had before. But, no one gets out of a relationship with Spock unscathed. And sometimes the ways you tried to change yourself to keep him end up showing you who you want to be.

2) Erotic Vulcan Love Poetry by Alsike

Complete, 1 chapter, 7k words, 2022

Teen and up; No Archive Warnings Apply

It had just been a one time thing--sex to soothe the hurt feelings and lingering resentments between them. But both being attached to universities and the good old conference circuit means that Dr Christine Chapel and T'Pring are still in each other's orbits. And well--good sex is good sex, right? No reason to turn it down.

There's no way this could become feelings.

Fuck.

3) Like a Sea Turtle to their Beach by Alsike

Complete, 9 chapters, 38k words, 2022

Teen and up; No Archive Warnings Apply

Vulcan calls.

Things have been going well for Christine and T'Pring, negotiating how to be together and feel settled in their relationship. But both good things and bad things can make things harder. The emergent telepathic bond should be a good thing: it's a connection, a sign of intimacy. But it's also a reminder of everything T'Pring has lost.

When the family that disowned her after the disaster of the kaliffee requests her return, T'Pring is certain that they won't want her back, not who she is now--who she's _with_ now. But she needs to go anyway and find a way to leave her past behind so she can fully move forward.

-----

My Thoughts

This is an amazing series of fics that you should definitely read if you are into Star Trek and femslash fanfiction.

It is very well written and the characters are beautifully flashed out (really great for someone who did not watch this show). Ultimately this is a enemies to lovers story; maybe more of an "I hooked up with the ex of my ex and fell in love" story.

The 3rd part is the longest and explores T'Prings past, her struggle as an outcast and the possible reconciliation with her family.

It takes place mostly on Vulcan and dives deep into Vulcan society and its issues with (non)conformity. And it does wrap up T'Pring's and Christine's love story when they finally overcome their insecurities.

This is an incredible trilogy of fics, an amazing love story and one of the best Star Trek stories that I have ever experienced. And that includes a lot of official novels and canon shows and movies.

 Quote from A Hermeneutics of Ass-Fucking

Christine was both out of her depth and really in her depth at the same time. She felt herself smiling, a little manically. This was definitely not okay. “Yeah, you want to spank me or something? Because I really don’t think this is the best way to handle emotions. Which, as human, talking to a Vulcan, is kind of a hilarious thing to say.”

“Do you want to be spanked?”

Christine froze.

“I had not thought of that. But if that is something you enjoy, we can include it as part of our pre-sexual negotiation.”

Addendum: How much Star Trek do you need to know?

Of course, you'll be fine if you watched Strange New worlds, but I think there are also other ways to enjoy this trilogy if you did not watch this show but have some prior knowledge of Star Trek and Vulcans.

I have never watched Strange New Worlds but I have watched a lot of the older Star Trek shows and movies and read a lot of the novels from the 80s and 90s. I really loved the ones focused on Vulcan society, Vulcan culture and Human & Vulcan interaction (and not just Spock) and I felt right at home when I read this trilogy.

Even if you know very little about Star Trek, it is worth doing some googling to read this story.

Update (added after the original post): 

The author wrote more excellent fics in the series and more stand alone fics for this ship. Check them out!

Notes:

This was cross-posted to tumblr and my WordPress blog. Check it out for more femslash fanfic recs. 

[iamtaran]

WIP Title Game! oh good lord

rules: in a new post, post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how nondescriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet and tell us about it!

thanks @allyunabridged for the tag! Lmao I stared down the barrel of not one, but two google drives to gather these and all I can say is

😬

IN AN ORDER ONLY THE GODS UNDERSTAND:

The Twilit Gate (BG3, when in want of more fey bullshit in your BG3, do it yourself!!! TavxAstarionxGalexliterally everyone i'm gay alright???)

Island (The Guest/손 AU, horror and survivalism; Hwa Pyung, Choi Yoon, and Gil Young follow Park Hong Joo's and Park Il Do's machinations out to open sea, to an island with long forgotten history where the real struggle for survival begins.)

But For Grace (SW:Preq's, modern-character in GFFA aka "what to do when you accidentally change things and the Chosen One dies?", started as a silly question but now I'm committed; Qui-Gon Jinn lives; what would happen in a galaxy without Anakin Skywalker?)

The Mage's War (DA2 + DA:I, what if Bethany Hawke was the Herald, Modern/Avvar OC, playing Fade chicken with the Dread Wolf nbd, put on my tinfoil hat for this one re: the Fade, the Abyss/Void, Forgotten Ones, etc.)

In God's Eye (Vampyr, human!Jonathan, ekon!McCullum, Mary lives, I'm a hobby WWI & Spanish Flu researcher so hold your britches I have FEELINGS)

For Want Of Two (Vampyr, wanted more mythological beings & nemrod lore so I'll do it myself gdi, put-that-thing-back-where-you-found-it-or-so-help-me-god.gif ; JxMcCxOC)

Lights All Hung On Nothing (Star Wars Preq's to Clone Wars era, modern-character-in-SW with a big twist, Force + time fuckery, Ani + Obi focus, the butterfly effect changes everything)

The 72nd Cycle (SW: Mandalorian, AU - Grogu is not the only Force sensitive prisoner Gideon had captured. Without room in his ship for multiple students, Luke tags along, not expecting the sad Mando's ride Boba Fett (w h a t) to show up and offer the poor guy use of his bacta tank; well, soon-to-be-his. He just has to kill its current owner, Bib Fortuna, first. You know. On Tatooine(WHAT!!). Meanwhile, on Tattooine: Cobb Vanth gets the nagging feeling his life is about to become much more stressful.)

A Heavy Thing (KOTOR, amnesiac Revan works a shitty food service job on Taris and definitely isn't a Jedi/Sith/Soldier, I mean, clearly. Slice of life becomes tragedy becomes adventure becomes mystery becomes ??? RevanxCanderousxCarth DON'T LOOK AT ME)

Life, Happening (The Shining/Doctor Sleep introspective piece on Danny Torrance, life & death, what it means to be gone, and not gone.)

Led To Water (Mandalorian, Din takes off the armor having broken his Creed and, unsure what to do next, returns to Kuiil's homestead to brood and sweat manfully through his existential crisis; his friends help him through it.)

Mando'ad'ika (Mandalorian/Original SW movies, The Mandalorian is taken into custody and now Leia has to deal with a sweet but stressed frog lady, a green gremlin with too much Force power, and this intimidating tin can who won't budge. Since Han laughed at her, she decides to make it his problem, too.)

Time Travel, & Other Ways To Die (Mandalorian/SW:Bounty Hunter video game, Din & Jango centric, whilst trying to get to Grogu on his magical big rock, Din & Grogu end up chucked through time onto an outlaw space station. Jango Fett's no good very bad day begins. Coincidentally, it coincides with Din Djarin's SUPER no good very bad day. They most assuredly do not bond over this.)

I am, or was. (Dragon Age: Inquisition, a spirit takes an interest in Solas after he helps it in the Fallow Mire and begins following him around like a lost puppy. Which would be cute, if it weren't possessing more and more alarming vessels to do so. The Andrastians are starting to get a bit twitchy.)

Rookie, Shiny, Soldier, Spy (Mandalorian/Clone Wars, Din Djarin accidental time travel into the Clone Wars AU. Caught without his 'gam on a battle field and forced once again to wear trooper armor, he is Not Impressed--and why do all these guys look like Boba?)

This Prodigal Son (Hades/Dragon Age: Inq, Zagreus goes through the wrong Chaos portal. Magister Alexius finds a powerful spirit in the Fade and, as is his way, decides fuck it, we ball. Also his way, it doesn't go very well for him.)

Send me a title via ask and I'll post my favorite bit I've currently written!

Lmao this was wild to throw together given how many WIPs of age past are staring me down; these are just all the recents. Go ahead and chuck some WIPs out there if you're interested @singoallala @narwhalninja @mauverawrites @in-a-trans-like-state @terresdebrume and @jackironsides ! And if you don't/aren't currently writing, everyone loves to see the pet tax paid C: