#fic: allegory of the cave

[felixravinstills]

re: allegory of the cave

plutarch and florus plutarch and florus plutarch and florus plutarch and florus plutarch and florus plutarch and florus-

i haven't made mood boards before but i am starting to see the appeal. treasuring this fic so dearly rn. florus's interest in history just like his namesake is so <333

Ahhhhhhhh! Moodboard of my fic? 🥹. This is so cool!

The allegory of the cave black figure painting? with the bird? nice.

Thank you so much, mentally hanging this up on my wall!

[abstractppsychopomp]

—on sacrifice and conditioning

"Clones being programmed- nothing controls me!" "Wrecker, it is a logical conclusion that your affinity for destruction would stem from your conditioning." "You take that back!" "I'm merely stating a scientific hypothesis based on factual data." "Oh well I've got a fact for you. I like to blow things up because I like to blow things up!"

Wrecker and Tech, The Bad Batch season 1 episode 1 "Aftermath"

(disclaimer that here I'm talking headcanons, and while it is all based on my personal analysis of canon events, nothing here is 100% canon!)

So.

Reconditioning exists. I first read about it, obviously, on Archive of Our Own, and later researched more for other reasons, to find almost nothing on the topic- one of the most interesting ones regarding the clones, for the simple reason that it is called a reconditioning. To be conditioned again, twice.

What made me really think about this was the fic I wrote, that resolves around Echo's time after Skako Minor, as he deals with grief and loss, and a brief interlude about Dogma and his reconditioning.

So, Wrecker and Tech's conversation is put there before a (n almost) comical situation, them fighting in the cafeteria against the regs, which distracts a bit the watchers from it- and it's a pity, because it's one of the few things The Bad Batch gave to regular clones.

Tech proposes the idea that clones are engineered to be the way that they are, and Wrecker hates the idea, saying that he's his own person and no one made him that way- and it's the most reasonable response, isn't it terrifying to think that you're not a real person but what someone else made you, that what you are, what you feel you feel because someone else wants you to be that way, to feel those things?

They're, of course, both right.

One of the things I liked the least about The Bad Batch was that they gave us a whole show about clones, but defective ones- which is a huge huge deal, and handled "regs" in a really bad way, at least for me.

Not because regs were the "bad guys"- people who are mistreated can mistreat others, I'm not that naive, but they chose to not explore at all the differences between Echo and the others- and I find that the biggest difference is their perception of death.

My whole fic was born because of this- I imagined Echo, after Skako Minor, learning that Fives is dead, that Dogma and Tup and Hardcase are dead, that so many died while he was imprisoned, and the Bad Batch is watching him grieve from the sidelines, knowing nothing about grief.

Yes, they did mourn 99 when he died, but they aren't like other clones, who consider every clone close family and think that dying for them is a duty and honor. They're a tight-knit group, and while they understand sacrifice they're not part of a group of a thousand clones- they're four, they're clones, they have a thing called Plan 99.

Echo has seen thousands die, and is ready to die any day for the Republic, and the Bad Batch in the meanwhile is almost no used at all to the loss of loved ones.

It's enough to compare two sacrifice scenes, Hardcase and Tech, to understand the difference between Echo and the others, and the difference in how the writers perceive regular, ordinary clones and defective, unique clones.

Hardcase sacrifices himself, and Jesse and Fives are clearly sad- but they accept his sacrifice, because it was Hardcase's choice, and they would have done the same. It's a choice made in the moment, but still a sudden thing that they're all ready for- a juxtaposition that for them is the norm.

When Tech dies, they have a plan for just that- self-sacrifice to make the team survive, Plan 99, and they all oppose to that, they all try to stop Tech, they're, not to be mean, way more emotional.

Yes, we spend more time with Tech than with Hardcase, of course his death is written as something way sadder, but we're here to work with what they gave us, so we have two sacrifices.

One accepted in a minute, a name said twice before, a character made to die and make us empathize and suffer for his death, one that left such a deep mark in everyone around it.

Well, it's telling.

In The Clone Wars, we had some arcs dedicated to clones specifically, but most of them were pretty rushed (I have a beef with the way they wrote clones in the animated shows- except Rebels, but Rebels is the My Only Exception the Paramore spoke of), when The Bad Batch was all about clones.

Just not the regular ones.

So we have Echo, and we have the Bad Batch.

Echo, who's more prone to self sacrifice, just like Hardcase and his other brothers, and the Bad Batch, who has a plan made just for that, I repeat.

The Bad Batch received a different treatment from the kaminoans than the regs, which is why they think that regs hate them just because they are what, stronger, more efficient, different?

The so called 'regs' hate them, they do, and they hate them because their defections are called desirable.

(let's not talk about the word 'regs')

If they're clearly called desirable, there are defections that aren't desirable, and what happens to the clones who have them?

Imagine being scared of being different, of sticking out, because it would mean only bad things and danger (for the people who love angst and aren't scared of suffering termination) for them, and then see someone so clearly different and so 'beloved' for it.

Clones are brothers, sisters, siblings, yes, and not only in the way that makes them fluffy and miss each other.

What happens when, let's say, an older sibling sees their younger sister do what they used to do and used to be berated for by their parents, and not suffer any consequences?

In the worst situations, it ends up creating jealousy, hatred, and ruins the relationship as a whole. Or it simply strains it.

This is what they have.

The Bad Batch had a different upbringing, they had a different life, and their chip didn't work.

(Let's not think about Wrecker and Crosshair for a moment, and focus on the others. Hunter and Tech's chips didn't work. Whether it was wanted or not, they didn't. Why? Their defection, again.)

And they're not prone to sacrifice.

That's not the first thing they think about, that's not an easy answer they can give.

Sacrifice is difficult for them.

(less difficult than for a nat-born, more difficult than for a reg)

Now, sacrifice should be difficult for anyone, but it isn't for the clones, who were trained to fight and die for the Republic.

"Live to fight another day" not fight to live another day, because regs have to fight and fight and fight, and sometimes die- die is considered fighting. They were trained to do it, to fight and to die.

And the only reason this could have happened, is conditioning.

There were nat-borns on Kamino, that they met and interacted with, and they studied nat-borns since they had to one day work under them, so they know an alternative to their life, they have the tools to find out that they aren't being treated right. They were conditioned to accept their situation, their life, this life of fighting and dying, because otherwise why would they? Why would CC-8357 choose to die for a Republic who bought him, if he isn't absolutely sure that he is something made to be bought?

so yes.

Does this make Hardcase's sacrifice less important, less genuine? No, it doesn't because conditioning isn't something infinite.

Can we consider it his choice? Yes, I think so, but not a fully rounded one- in the way their choice to fight isn't a real choice, since they had no other options.

Does this make clones less human? Absolutely not, because with every second they spend outside of Kamino they learn and evolve, and this makes any part of their personality ten times more special- imagine being witty, broody, annoying and short-tempered, and imagine being witty, broody, annoying and short-tempered despite having humanity trained out of you.

the clones are so interesting because they should exist in the middle between droid and human, but can't help but be so human that people created enough lore that if someone wants to read on ao3 about them they have to research beforehand! The Clone Wars writers didn't deserve them but we do.

[s-aint-elmo]

throwback to when i first read harrow the ninth and i was convinced that The Body(TM) was not a genuine daily harrow experience but rather a consequence of gideon's erasure. like has harrowhark been having hallucinations of the body locked in the tomb since she was ten or is that just her mind filling in the sounds and sensations of gideon's presence in her life. is harrowhark really in love with the body or is that just her feelings for gideon finding another vessel in her absence. etc. etc. that was fun

[physalian]

How to make your writing sound less stiff part 2

Part 1

Again, just suggestions that shouldn’t have to compromise your author voice, as I sit here doing my own edits for a WIP.

1. Crutch words

Specifically when you have your narrator taking an action instead of just… writing that action. Examples:

Character wonders/imagines/thinks/realizes

Character sees/smells/feels

Now not all of these need to be cut. There’s a difference between:

Elias stops. He realizes they’re going in the wrong direction.

And

Elias takes far too long to realize that it’s not horribly dark wherever they are

Crutch words are words that don’t add anything to the sentence and the sentence can carry on with the exact same meaning even if you delete it. Thus:

Elias stops. They’re going in the wrong direction.

I need a word in the second example, whether it’s realizes, understands, or notices, unless I rework the entire sentence. The “realization” is implied by the hard cut to the next sentence in the first example.

2. Creating your own “author voice”

Unless the tone of the scene demands otherwise, my writing style is very conversational. I have a lot of sentence fragments to reflect my characters’ scatterbrained thoughts. I let them be sarcastic and sassy within the narration. I leave in instances of “just” (another crutch word) when I think it helps the sentence. Example:

…but it’s just another cave to Elias.

Deleting the “just” wouldn’t hit as hard or read as dismissive and resigned.

I may be writing in 3rd person limited, but I still let the personalities of my characters flavor everything from the syntax to metaphor choices. It’s up to you how you want to write your “voice”.

I’ll let dialogue cut off narration, like:

Not that he wouldn’t. However, “You can’t expect me to believe that.”

Sure it’s ~grammatically incorrect~ but you get more leeway in fiction. This isn’t an essay written in MLA or APA format. It’s okay to break a few rules, they’re more like guidelines anyway.

3. Metaphor, allegory, and simile

There is a time and a place to abandon this and shoot straight because oftentimes you might not realize you’re using these at all. It’s the difference between:

Blinding sunlight reflects off the window sill

And

Sunlight bounces like high-beams off the window sill

It’s up to you and what best fits the scene.

Sometimes there’s more power in not being poetic, just bluntly explicit. Situations like describing a character’s battle wounds (whatever kind of battle they might be from, whether it be war or abuse) don’t need flowery prose and if your manuscript is metaphor-heavy, suddenly dropping them in a serious situation will help with the mood and tonal shift, even if your readers can’t quite pick up on why immediately.

Whatever the case is, pick a metaphor that fits the narrator. If my narrator is comparing a shade of red to something, pick a comparison that makes sense.

Red like the clouds at sunset might make sense for a character that would appreciate sunsets. It’s romantic but not sensual, it’s warm and comforting.

Red like lipstick stains on a wine glass hints at a very different image and tone.

Metaphor can also either water down the impact of something, or make it so much worse so pay attention to what you want your reader to feel when they read it. Are you trying to shield them from the horror or dig it in deep?

4. Paragraph formatting

Nothing sticks out on a page quite like a line of narrative all by itself. Abusing this tactic will lessen its effect so save single sentence paragraphs for lines you want to hammer your audiences with. Lines like romantic revelations, or shocking twists, or characters giving up, giving in. Or just a badass line that deserves a whole paragraph to itself.

I do it all the time just like this.

Your writing style might not feature a bunch of chunky paragraphs to emphasize smaller lines of text (or if you’re writing a fic on A03, the size of the screen makes many paragraphs one line), but if yours does, slapping a zinger between two beefy paragraphs helps with immersion.

5. Polysyndeton and Asyndeton

Not gibberish! These, like single-sentence paragraphs, mix up the usual flow of the narrative that are lists of concepts with or without conjunctions.

Asyndeton: We came. We saw. We conquered. It was cold, grey, lifeless.

Polysyndeton: And the birds are out and the sun is shining and it might rain later but right now I am going to enjoy the blue sky and the puffy white clouds like cotton balls. They stand and they clap and they sing.

Both are for emphasis. Asyndeton tends to be "colder" and more blunt, because the sentence is blunt. Polysyntedon tends to be more exciting, overwhelming.

We came and we saw and we conquered.

The original is rather grim. This version is almost uplifting, like it's celebrating as opposed to taunting, depending on how you look at it.

—

All of these are highly situational, but if you’re stuck, maybe try some out and see what happens.

*italicized quotes are from ENNS, the rest I made up on the spot save for the Veni Vidi Vici.

[mikimakiboo]

CAVE CANEM DRACONTEM

-> beware of the dog dragon

Draz Nightmare is very cute and I've been rambling with @ancha-aus in the notes again so here I am writing yet another fic when I already have three to work on

Please read it because I've been fighting for my life while writing it, just search #spider war and you will see

For those who haven't seen the baby, I doodled him

Ancha also wrote a tiny drabble that is just adorable !!!!! A very nice take on the situation !!! :D

Tw: cute baby dragon, rape allegory, yes I know these two warnings are horrible next to each other but I promise it's not that bad, I just have to warn about it because that's still a trigger, also injuries and reference to past abuse

Finished writing at 4am 👍🏻

Guardians were ancient creatures, created to protect, it wasn't rare for them to be more... creature-like than human-like, though they did have a more human form as to blend in better with the mortals, as to not scare them. The most frequent creatures were dragons, fierce and strong animals spitting fire, fearless and feared by all. Most guardians were dragon breeds.

Nightmare wasn't an exception to the rule. No one had ever seen his dragon form, but it was rumored to be gigantic, so strong it could destroy buildings with one whiplash from its tail, its fire so hot it could melt the stone of the mountains, so large it could eat you whole without needing to chew... needless to say, nobody ever tried to see the dragon, and Nightmare never had to show it to anyone, not even his own gang.

They did try to question him, curious, to beg him to show them his dragon form, but Nightmare always refused, stating that it was too dangerous and he didn't want to hurt them by accident, and, well, Nightmare was known to never lie, so they didn't push it and accepted that they would never see their boss turn into a dragon.

But fate has never been on Nightmare's side, he should have known that by now.

The balance hadn't been doing great these past few weeks, negativity levels were low, giving Dream and his team more power, making Nightmare's team struggle more to create enough negativity for the guardian. He was tired, his reserves were low, he couldn't keep pulling on them, he had to rest, to revert back to his primal form for a while and regain some energy. He didn't want to do that, he didn't want anyone to see the dragon, but if he kept delaying the tranformation he would end up reverting in a place where he wouldn't have been prepared to.

He sighed, standing up, he needed to find a hidden room in his castle where he wouldn't be bothered by anyone, a room where he could hide for a while, hopefully not too long as to not worry his teammates, maybe for a night, then he would turn back into a skeleton and act normal during the day. No one would have to see him.

Having selected and rearranged the room, he quickly made sure nobody was around and reverted to his dragon form, letting his magic wrap him in a flashing purple-ish light to reveal the beast, and laid down on his nest get some hours of rest...

Killer was the last to wake up in the morning, as usual, and went straight to the kitchen where Dust was on his phone drinking his coffee, Horror unloading the dishwasher after having programmed it to run during the night. Cross was most likely on his morning jog, honestly, how he managed to have so much energy this early in the morning was a mystery to everyone in this castle, even Nightmare didn't wake up this early, and God knew how much he hated sleeping in. Speaking of the boss, shouldn't he have been drinking his coffee too ? Killer didn't spot his mug in the sink.

- Nightmare's still sleeping ? He yawned, sitting down on his spot around the small table. Shouldn't we wake him up ?

- I already checked, he's not in his room, he probably slept in his office again, Dust replied without looking away from his phone.

It wasn't unusual for Nightmare to sleep in his office, he did tend pretty often to overwork himself.

- Mh.. I'll go see if he needs anything, Killer declared, getting up again.

As much as their boss wanted them to take care of themselves, he wasn't the best at it, "do what I say, not what I do" kind of deal, so every once in a while they would check up on him and make sure he at least slept and ate. They knew that technically he didn't need either of those, but it never hurt and was always a nice bonus for when negativity in the multiverse was low, like currently, so Killer walked all the way towards the wooden door and knocked.

- Boss ? You're in there ?

He waited, but didn't receive any answer.

- Sleeping on your desk again ? He asked more for himself, I'm coming in.

He grabbed the handle and slowly pushed the door open in case Nightmare was in fact sleeping, not wanting to make too much noise, but found the desk empty of any sleeping skeleton.

- Nightmare ?

He looked around, but the office was definitely empty. Maybe he was in his library ? Killer teleported there as it was all the way across the castle and it was still too early to walk this far in his opinion. He arrived in what surely was the biggest room of the castle and, to his surprise, it was plunged in the darkness, not one light was on, and even if Nightmare did have a better night vision than them he still turned the lights on when he was doing something as to not tire his only good eye, so the fact the room was dark was enough to tell Killer his boss wasn't there either. He teleported back in the kitchen. Cross had come back from his run and was drinking some lemon water.

- Nightmare's not there, he announced, earning three confused looks from his teammates.

- What do you mean he's not there ? Dust asked.

- I mean he's not there, I checked his office and the library and he's not in either of those, and we all know that's, like, the only rooms he spends his time in aside from the living room and his bedroom.

- Maybe he went for a walk ? Cross supposed.

- Cross, you're the only one in this castle going for a walk in the morning, Dust answered deadpanned.

- Sorry for wanting to stay in shape ? Cross frowned.

- Where could he be then... ? Horror asked, redirecting the conversation towards the principle subject: Nightmare.

Killer shrugged, he didn't see where Nightmare could have headed to, he rarely left the universe without them and usually wasn't that far in the castle so they could always reach him rapidly if there was a problem that way. So apart from the rooms he already checked ? Killer had no idea where his boss could have hidden himself, and given his weaker situation at the moment, he hoped it didn't mean anything bad...

- We should look for him... Horror finally decided for all of them, no doubt having concluded the same thing as Killer.

The others nodded and Dust got up, putting his empty cup in the sink to wash later.

- I say we all take one floor and the first to find him calls the others, Cross suggested.

- Works good for me, Killer agreed.

He saw Horror nod and Dust answered with a "sure". After agreeing on which floor everyone would go Killer teleported on the fourth one. They almsot never used that floor, the kitchen and living room they used were on the first floor as well as the training rooms, the library and the nursery, on the second floor were their bedrooms with attached bathrooms and Nightmare's office, and on the third floor were extra storage rooms and an old ball room with small saloons for the majority unused. Which left the fourth floor with its empty rooms and closets and the access to the rooftop. Needless to say, this floor would be quick to look throught.

Killer had opened half of the rooms, and still no sign of his boss, he was starting to think he did went out for a walk at this point. He stopped in front of a closet door, debating if he should open it or not, after all what would Nightmare do in a dusty closet ? But he had nothing to lose anyway, so he opened the door an looked inside. The closet was empty, aside from a pile of covers on the floor, which wouldn't have been that strange if only the covers were dirty, but they seemed clean with no particles of dust on them. Killer frowned, looking at the pile for a few seconds before crounching down and slowly reaching out to move one aside, before freezing when he saw what was underneath...

- Oh.. my.. god... he took out his phone and called the group chat, guys, guys you've gotta come see that, fourth floor, closet in the fifth corridor on the right, hurry.. !

He hung up, took two steps back, and waited for the others to arrive. They didn't take too long, alerted and worried by the call.

- What's wrong !? Did you find Nightmare !? Cross yelled after teleporting.

Killer quickly turned around with a finger in front of his mouth, inquiring them to be silent and come closer. The three shot each other worried looks before doing as told and coming next to Killer, looking inside the closet...

Under the covers was... a cat ? No, it wasn't a cat, thought it was roughly the same size, maybe slightly larger, but only a little. It had black fur, big pointy ears, a short chubby tail and two horns seemingly made of dark wood. It seemed to be asleep...

- What's this... ? Horror asked, but no one could answer.

- It's waking up... ! Dust whisper-screamed, seeing the creature start to move.

They all watched closely, ready to defend themselves if the thing attacked. The creature wiggled a little before yawning and opening its only eye, revealing a bright cyan eyelight. They knew that eyelight... the creature- ... Nightmare.. ? Slowly looked up to them, batting an ear, before sneezing due to the dust, a little blue flame coming out of its his mouth. Killer was the first to make the connection.

- Oh fuck... I think.. It's Nightmare's dragon form...

The small dragon perked his ears and looked up at him, as if recognizing his name. Cross passed out, Horror barely had time to catch him before he hit the ground.

- What.. are we supposed to do... ? Dust asked, not deviating his gaze from the small fluffy dragon.

- I have no idea... Killer admitted, just as lost as the others.

They didn't expect anything like that, it was kind of underwhelming to be honest, they were so sure their boss's dragon form was this gigantic beast he kept describing, only to be met with this fur ball instead ? He was incredibly cute, that was for sure, but they just... didn't expect that. Was it because of the lack of negativity ?

Cross came back to his senses just in time for the dragon to stand up, stretch his small and chubby legs like a cat, and trip over the covers when trying to get down, rolling forward on his back, paws in the air. He had dark purple toe beans. Cross passed out again.

The dragon rolled over on his belly, standing up again, and turned to look at them, sitting down, he seemed to analyze them.

- Uh... hi ? Killer tried with a wave and an awkward smile.

The dragon barked. God he wanted to squeeze him so badly. Was Nightmare still conscious in there or was the dragon a sort of alter-ego ? Did the dragon have Nightmare's memories ? Should they call him Nightmare too ? He did seem to recognize the name, so surely yes.

- It's uh.. Dust began, quite dirty in there, don't you want to go, like, in the living room or something ?

Nightmare looked up at him, slowly stood up, blinked, and sprinted past them.

- No wait come back ! Dust called, trying to grab him but missing.

- Does he remember the castle... ? Horror asked, holding Cross against him.

- I don't know and I don't want to wait for him to get lost ! Killer replied, teleporting in front of the dragon.

Nightmare yelped, stopping abruptly when seeing the skeleton in front of him, he slid on a good two meters before managing to run the other way around, but Dust was quicker than him this time and grabbed him before he could go full speed again. The little dragon squirmed in his hold, growling and spitting small fire balls.

- It's okay, calm down.. ! It's me, I'm not gonna hurt you.. ! Dust tried to reassure the angry dragon he held at arm's length.

Nightmare eventually calmed down, panting, no doubt still tired, and only growled with his ears down on each side of his head. Dust sighed, holding him closer to his chest to better grab him, putting an arm under his back legs.

- Oookay, everything's fine, we're just.. we're gonna go back to the living room and see what we should do.. Dust decided, heading towards the stairs with the others following him.

Everyone walked in silence, Cross having regained his consciousness, and arrived in the living room. Nightmare had stopped growling. Dust stopped in front of the couch.

- Please don't run off, he begged, slowly putting his small cargo down on the mattress.

Nightmare faced the back of the couch for a while before slowly turning around, marking a pause, and jumping from the couch. Killer caught him mid-air.

- Okay air jail for you, he declared keeping him in his arms

Nightmare whined, but didn't try to move. His fur was very soft, Killer noticed.

- So.. What should we do.. ? Horror asked, sitting down on the armchair.

Cross was still standing, staring at the dragon with a mix of awe and incredulity, Killer could understand, he too couldn't believe what he was holding at the moment. Their boss, the greatly feared Nightmare, guardian of negativity, ancient dragon breed, was not bigger than a cat and as fluffy as a plush. Why did he never tell them that ? Killer could understand not telling the multiverse, as it wouldn't have helped his image, but them ? His teammates ? His friends ? He would have thought they were well above the image, above the reputation, that he would have told them the truth. Unless this wasn't his true form but a result of his current weakness, and in that case, he didn't really want to leave the little dragon wandering in the castle on his own and risk getting hurt.

- I don't know... we should probably keep an eye on him ? I mean the castle's big and full of dangerous things and he's, well, not big, plus now's not the perfect time for him to hurt himself.

- Don't you think Nightmare will get mad that we sorta babysat him ? Cross worried.

Killer frowned for a second, not having thought of the possibility that Nightmare would be mad at them for that. He surely would, but would it be that bad ? It wasn't like they were planning on showing him to the world, just keep an eye on him until he transformed back, surely he would understand.

- Yeah well I prefer Nightmare being mad rather than him hurting himself, Dust answered before Killer could.

He simply nodded, stating he agreed with his friend.

- Hm.. you're probably right.. Cross agreed too, I'm gonna go check if I have a sweater or something to keep him warm, it's pretty cold in the castle.

- He's a dragon.. ? Horror asked, confused as to how a dragon would get cold.

- I don't want to risk it, Cross stated as he made his way towards his room.

Horror didn't insist, Cross seemed too determined anyway to get Nightmare in a sweater, and he had to admit the thought of seeing the small dragon in a little sweater was rather cute, so they all waited for the monochromatic skeleton to return. He luckily didn't take too much time.

- I've got one ! I think it was mine when I was a kid ? Anyway it should fit him well, he announced, stepping back into the living room.

Killer looked at the sweater, it was a plain black one, totally Nightmare's style.

- I'll hold him so you can put it on, Killer told him.

He sat on the couch, putting Nightmare on his laps in a sitting position, holding him by the sides, the dragon looked up at him curiously. Cross stood in front of him, rolling the sleeves of the sweater to make it easier to slip on, and gently grabbed the first paw to pass it in the first hole. Nightmare growled, his ears back, as Cross slowly manipulated him.

- It's okay, it's okay, I'm almost done.. he tried to reassure as he passed the sweater around the dragon's head.

Cross put the sweater in place, giving a little pat on Nightmare's head to congratulate him for not moving, before his gaze met his back paws. He poked the purple bean with a finger without thinking and saw Nightmare flinch and stare at his own paw with surprise.

- S-sorry, i-it was too tempting.. ! He apologized, blushing in embarrassment.

Nightmare stared for another second, then stretched his toes.

- ... I'm gonna pass out.

- Again ? Dust snorted.

- Yeah... Cross sighed, but he's so damn cute.. !

Of course, everyone agreed. This little dragon, as surprising and unfitting for Nightmare as he was, was frankly adorable with his little sweater and his big curious eyelight looking around the room. He surely rarely had the opportunity to explore the castle, but even when not knowing his surroundings very well, he didn't seem outwardly scared of them, he was cautious, but he had seemed to recognize them a little, at least enough not to attack. How much of Nightmare's memories did he have ? Killer saw him sniff a few times, did he recognize stuff through scents and that was why he knew who they were ? Because he remembered their odor and knew they were friends ? They would need to ask Nightmare, the skeleton, when he would be back. They would need to ask him a lot of things.

They all turned when they heard a grumble coming from the dragon.

- You're hungry.. ? Horror asked him with a found smile.

Nightmare looked up at him.

- Well, he did skip breakfast, Killer noted.

- What do dragons even eat ? Dust rightfully asked.

- Probably meat ? Cross answered, uncertain, I mean he's a predator so...

- I think we have some ham left... Horror thought, standing up.

He headed to the kitchen, the dragon's gaze following him until he started wiggling to be set free.

- Okay okay I'm putting you down ! Relax ! Killer quickly put him on the ground, not wanting his claws to shred him to pieces.

Nightmare sprinted to catch up to the big skeleton who had stopped to wait for his tiny boss. He chuckled when seeing him arrive and went to the fridge. The dragon went straight into the first shelf, searching for something interesting as he could smell the different foods. He unfortunately got grabbed before he could bit into a sausage and saw the door of the fridge closing in front of his eye, making him whine. He rapidly forgot about the fridge once Horror put him on a chair and handed him a piece of ham that he quickly bit into to eat with a little "nom" noise. Another piece followed after the first one and the tiny dragon happily enjoyed a full slice of ham for breakfast.

The others eventually joined them in the kitchen, wanting to see the dragon eat and just see the dragon in general as it would probably be the one and only time they would see him. The dragon looked at them for a minute before jumping down from his chair and going to explore the kitchen more in depth. He sniffed the cabinets, sniffed the table, the chairs, sniffed the trash can, frowned, sniffed the pedal, stepped on it, and jumped when the lid opened, running to hide behind the closest pair of legs he could find: Dust's. The skeleton bent down to lift him up.

- It's okay buddy, the trashcan won't hurt you, he laughed, petting the dragon's head.

Nightmare let him do so, slightly growling at the scary trashcan still.

- We're gonna go back to the living room, okay ? Dust reassured, leaving the kitchen with the two other skeletons, Horror staying to start preparing dinner as the search took a while and it was already almost noon.

Dust sat on the couch, keeping Nightmare on his laps.

- Can I pet him ? Cross asked, almost having stars in his eyes.

Dust looked up at him.

- Sure ? I mean, if he lets you.

Cross quickly nodded, crounching down in front of the dragon to let him sniff his hand in a silent demand for authorization. Nightmare looked at him, and gently headbutted his hand.

- Ooooh my God.. ! Cross exclaimed in a whisper, tearing up.

He gently scratched the little head, petting behind the ears, under the chin, ... a low rumble started to get heard.

- Oh shit.. guys he's purring.. ! Dust realized, feeling the small vibrations on his legs.

- He is ?! Killer put a hand on Nightmare's back.

He could feel the vibrations as he pat his back, near the tail as he would do with a cat. The little dragon purred louder, his eye closed. Soon he had six hands petting him. He started knitting on Dust's laps, feeling perfectly content with the attention.

- Ouch, Dust flinched, okay, sharp claws.

Killer snorted.

- You'll get used to it.

The petting session lasted until it was time for dinner, Cross and Killer went to help set up the table and Dust carefully moved Nightmare from his legs to the couch.

- We'll be right back in an instant, okay ? You can stay on the couch, he informed with a last pat on the head.

Dinner was simple, a steak with some vegetables on the side, but they all happily ate it. Horror always managed to make even the simplest meals taste delicious. Killer felt something against his leg, looking down he saw the tiny dragon standing up against his chair.

- Yeah ? Need anything ? He asked him.

The dragon looked at him, crounched down, seemed to calculate something, and jumped on his laps.

- Oh ! Well, okay then, guess you can sleep here, he chuckled.

Nightmare turned around to face the table, looking at the plate in front of him. He squinted.

- Comfortable ? Killer asked.

Nightmare only turned an ear, already focused on his plan. He slowly bent forward, eye fixated on his target, and swiftly snatched the steak in the plate before jumping off of Killer's laps and running out of the room, steak in his mouth.

- Wait, no ! Killer exclaimed, trying to grab him before he ran off, my steak !

He quickly got up to chase after the dragon, hearing the others laugh at his predicament, but the little thief was faster than him and already hid himself to eat the content of his robbery. Killer eventually had to give up and return to the table where the others weren't finish laughing.

By the time Nightmare reappeared, they had all done eating and cleaning the table. Killer glared at him.

- You stole my steak, he accused, fists on his hips.

The dragon looked up at him before headbutting his leg.

- Mowww, of course I forgive you ! Killer cooed, bending down, come here !

He lifted him up, bringing him back to the couch for another session of petting and scratching that lasted as long as Nightmare wanted it to, with the only breaks being snack breaks. The little dragon was particularly greedy and would eat just any snacks they would hand him. They had opted for a bag of dried meat, something simple they were mostly sure wouldn't hurt his stomach. They wouldn't want their tiny dragon to get sick.

They stayed with him all afternoon, letting him take naps on their jackets, the poor thing still being quite tired from the lack of negativity, and decided they would sleep I the living room this night, not wanting to leave the dragon alone.

They had brought some covers and extra pillows, Nightmare was on the couch, in a nest made of their jackets.

Cross woke up when a flash suddenly lit up the room, grumbling, he looked up to see what it was. He saw Nightmare, the skeleton, slowly rise from the couch, he seemed tensed, and in the silence of the night he could hear him hyperventilating.

- Night... ? He called in a whisper as to not wake the others up.

Nightmare's gaze shot in his direction, his pupil reduced to a trembling slit, before he backed up in a hurry, tripped on the covers and fell backward. The noise made Horror move.

- What's happening... ? He mumbled.

Nightmare quickly looked at him before rapidly teleporting away. On the second floor, the door of his room slammed shut in an loud echo, waking the two remaining skeletons up.

- W-what was that.. ? Killer asked.

- I.. Cross began, it was Nightmare, he's.. he's awake and he didn't seem very happy to see us... he briefly explained.

The air around them became colder as they all exchanged worried looks, feeling the ambient negativity in the castle thickening.

- I.. think we may have made a mistake... Dust said out loud what they were all starting to think.

- Did he look mad ? Killer asked Cross.

Cross thought for a moment.

- No... more like... scared ?

- Scared ? Why would he be scared ?

Cross shrugged, getting up, he didn't like seeing the look in his boss's eye, it wasn't right, he didn't want him to be scared of them. Why was he even scared ?

- Do you think it has to do with the dragon ? Dust questioned. I mean, he always told us he was dangerous and all, maybe he got scared that he hurt us ?

Killer frowned.

- But we're all fine, If he had hurt us he would have seen it when transforming back.

- Maybe we weren't supposed to see the dragon ?

They looked at Cross, thinking about it, it made sense as Nightmare always seemed reticent to show them his primal form.

- He was hiding... Horror finally said, looking down, a feeling of guilt emerging in his soul, and we still took him...

The others stayed silent for a moment, letting the realization settle in. Cross sat back on the couch.

- He.. He was hiding... Killer began, he was hiding and didn't want to be seen, and we still searched him and took him out of his safe spot... we... we litteraly took advantage of his current weakness to grab him and he tried to fly but we still held him... God he couldn't even talk... ! He couldn't defend himself and we forced him to be here when he was hiding for a reason... !

Killer held his head in his hands after his monolog, so deeply ashamed of himself, the other three weren't doing better. Cross sniffled.

- You're making it sound like we raped him... he whined, feeling heavy with guilt.

For a few minutes only Cross's wheeping disturbed the silence of the castle, until Killer abruptly stood up.

- We need to apologize, he declared, heading to the stairs.

Dust got up to grab his arm, stopping him.

- He probably doesn't want to be bothered right now, we should wait a moment for him to calm down before trying anything.

Killer shrugged, making Dust let go of his arm.

- I'm not gonna come in, I'm not stupid, I'm just gonna knock and apologize.

He had to, he couldn't just wait until morning, he had to let Nightmare know that he was sorry, that they were all sorry, that they didn't think and acted stupid and regretted it. He arrived in front of the door, his hand was shaking when he lifted his arm to knock.

- Boss, you're here.. ?

Nightmare flinched when he heard the knock and the voice, backing down again, his back on the wall opposed to the door, sitting on the ground. He was shaking. What did they want ? What have they done ? Why must they have to see him like that ? To see this weak and pathetic form ? The one thing he had wished to remain a secret, why did they have to open this closet ?

Nightmare was shaking, a hand covering his mouth to try and muffle his heavy breathing. He felt scared, humiliated, confused, naked almost, like all of the walls and layers he had built over time just fell down and left him in a cloud of ashes.

They had seen him, they had seen the dragon, they had seen this little creature so ridiculously small, so contemptible, so useless, they had seen the real him, the him that wasn't fierce, that wasn't big nor intimidating, the him that wasn't threatening. They had seen the truth. Now what would they do ? Would they laugh ? Would they mock him for being this pathetic ? For giving birth to such a big lie when reality was this disappointing ? Would they tell the world about him ? Would they leave him ? Would they be disgusted by such a pathetic leader ? Would they lose all respect they had for him, respect that had been build on a lie ? Would he ever be able to gain their respect again ? What if they never wanted to hear of him again ?

His soul was beating fast in his ribcage, giving him the impression it was about to explode, he heard the drumming sound in his head, making everything else sound muffled. He barely heard Killer on the other side of the door.

- We're sorry Nightmare... we really are... we should have never tried to touch you and we should have just left you alone... we really didn't think and we understand that you're mad at us, you don't have to come out if you're not ready to, but just know that we are sorry... we were jerks, we didn't mean to hurt you...

Nightmare listened, trying to focus on anything else than the tears forming in his eye. Was he honest ? Was Killer honest ? He wanted to believe it, he couldn't feel his emotions, his magic wasn't recovered enough and he was in too big of a panic state to direct it properly anyway.

He wanted to believe him so bad, to believe it was only an accident, that maybe they could still pretend as if nothing happened, but a part of him kept yelling it was a lure. It kept telling him to not take words for proof, that sooner or later they would realize he's truly pathetic and the minute the dragon wouldn't amuse them anymore they would leave. He would lose everything then. He didn't want to, he didn't want to lose them.

- Take all the time you need, we will be waiting for you when you feel ready...

He heard the footsteps go away, and finally let out a sob, choking on air. What was he supposed to do now ? He couldn't go to them anymore, he didn't want to face their gaze just yet, they would surely have questions and he didn't want to answer any of those. He couldn't go to anyone, nobody knew about his secret. He was alone, like before, like he always had been, alone to face his fears.

He should have been more careful, lock himself somewhere else, make sure nobody could reach him. He should have known it, he should have known he couldn't trust his own house, he couldn't even trust his mother's shadow when he was a kid, why would that be any different now ?

He felt stupid, he wanted to hide away and never come out, let everyone forget about him and rot in a corner where no one would see him ever again...

He stayed locked in his room for hours, which turned into a few days, he didn't count how many exactly but Horror kept leaving food platters by his door. He could hear them take turn sitting down and talking to him, telling him they were sorry, that they should have waited for him instead of forcibly taking the dragon, that they were worried about him and to please come out, they wanted to see him. His silence only worried then more, they wouldn't enter by force but if he could at least talk to them, so they would know he's fine... Nightmare felt guilty, he didn't like scaring them that way, he didn't like how ashamed of themselves they all sounded, but he just didn't have the courage to open the door. The mere thought of being the center of attention knowing what happened filled him with shame and embarrassment and he felt his soul burn.

But he had to go out. He could barely stay awake, his magic was so low, the negativity level in the multiverse only kept receding the longer he was inactive, he needed a raid, even a small one, to boost himself enough not to tranform again. And he needed them. He was to weak to go alone. Maybe after this raid he would feel a little better and wouldn't need them, but for now it wasn't the case.

He slowly got up from his bed, feeling his legs shaking under his weight, and opened his door after a long hesitation. Cross was here, standing guard, he jumped when he heard the noise and froze when seeing the skeleton. Judging by his expression, Nightmare must have looked awful. Days without taking care of yourself usually did that.

- Nightmare.. ? Are.. are you feeling okay... ? I-I mean it's a dumb question but-

- We're going on a raid... Nightmare interrupted him, his voice more hoarse than he would have wished.

Cross straightened his stance, an old habit of the soldier receiving orders.

- O-of course ! I'll go fetch the others ! Pl-please don't lock yourself back.. ! He begged before going on his quest.

Nightmare looked at him go, letting out a shaky breath.

The others arrived rapidly, and though none of them knew what to say they all looked at him with a mix of worry and relief to see him out of his room.

- Boss we- Killer began before being interrupted.

- We're going, make it fast..

They all exchanged a glance, but nobody intervened. Nightmare motioned to Cross to open a portal, he couldn't do it himself this time. The soldier did as told, and they all crossed it, Nightmare going in last. He shivered when feeling the cold air of snowdin's forest hit him, embracing himself to try and keep his little body warmth as the others were already in movement. Only Dust stayed near him. He was about to tell him to join the others but the hoodied skeleton talked first.

- It's good to see you out of your room, Night, we were all worried.. we know what we did wasn't right, and we really want to make it up to you... we care about you, 'kay ? Try not to forget that... he said before teleporting away to the others.

Nightmare stiffened when he mentioned what happened, he didn't want to think about it again, but he couldn't avoid it for all eternity. He watched them from afar, not taking part in the activity, and focused on absorbing as much negativity as possible, he had to admit they were doing a particularly good job, though it would take way more than that for him to recover all of his strength.

He let them cause chaos, coming only a little closer to get a better taste of the negativity, ignoring their worried glances each time he moved. Were they really this worried about him ?

He heard a portal open, but Cross was far from him, too far for him to hear anything, and Cross wouldn't make a portal without informing him first, which meant the portal wasn't his, and the sudden sharp pain he felt in his shoulder told him exactly who it was: Dream and his team had arrived, and he just got hit with an arrow.

He dislodged the arrow before turning, slowly, now wasn't the time, he was still too weak to fight, and if he engaged in a battle now his magic would tire out rapidly and force him to transform back, which was not an option. He took a step back, and saw his brother frown. Oh how pathetic he must have looked for Dream to spot something was wrong. But it didn't stop the guardian from attacking a second time.

The arrow got blocked by a blade, Cross was in front of him in a defensive stance, a quick glance around confirmed the others were already fighting Ink and Blue, trying to maintain them as far as possible from him.

It wasn't the first time they would protect him, but this time felt different for some reason. It was absurd, Nightmare knew there were no differences, they acted as they always acted before, but his mind couldn't help but scream at him, telling him they only protected him because they knew how weak he really was. Were they going to tell everyone about that ? Were they going to tell Dream ? Dream always tried to get him to tranform, wanting to see his dragon form, as a confirmation whether it really changed or not, were they going to tell him that he never became that gigantic beast he always described ? Were they going to reveal everything ? No, no they wouldn't, he trusted them not to, he really did... but what if they made a mistake ? What if they said it by accident and Dream heard ? What then ? Would he try even more to tire him ? Would he attack with more fierce ? Would the news spread across the multiverse ? Would he be mocked by everyone again ? What would he do if his lie crumbled, if his only defense fell down ? Where would he hide ? Could he even hide anymore ? He didn't have anywhere to go aside from his castle, but could he hide here ? Or would the castle be attacked if the people knew there wasn't any real threat ? Would he lose his home again ? Would he lose his only safe place ? Would he lose his friends... ?

He almost fell when he felt someone push him forward, a gasp of surprise leaving him as he was abruptly brought back to reality: a portal to the castle was open in front of him, Horror was behind him forcing him to move, Dust was maintaining the stars at distance with sharp bones and blasters, Killer was halfway through the portal, and Cross was next to it looking at him worryingly.

- Boss we're retreating ! Did you not hear me call you ?! He grabbed his arm to pull him in the portal.

The others rapidly followed, and Cross closed the path before anyone else could enter. They were back in the living room.

- Are you okay 'Mare ? Killer asked, coming to him to check his shoulder, you zoned out pretty hard out there... is... do you want to talk about it... ?

They were all looking at him, and he didn't know what to say. He didn't hear them call him, he didn't see Cross opening the portal and only reacted when Horror pushed him. He could have gotten them hurt because his thoughts wouldn't give him a break, and now they were worried about him again. He felt awful, he couldn't protect them in his dragon form and he could have gotten them hurt in his skeletal form. He shouldn't be with them.

- I... I'm fine, I just... I need... some time, alone... he mumbled, taking a few steps back.

He saw Horror begin to reach for him and dodged his hand, going past him to hurry to his room, not wanting to feel their gaze on him any longer. Seriously what would they think of him now ? He had sunken so low...

He didn't want to be a burden, it was really the last thing he ever wanted, especially to them, but he couldn't help but fear they would end up seeing him as one, as someone they had to protect instead of someone they could count on. He had tried to persuade himself that they would never do that, that he trusted them and that they were loyal, but these thoughts kept coming back and they wouldn't let him breath.

And now, because of these polluted thoughts, he was alone in an AU, one week after their raid, to go on a solo negativity run. He could do it himself, he didn't need them, he didn't need their protection, he didn't need them getting hurt for his sake. He would be fine, it would just be a small run, as he always did...

Killer sighed, sitting back up on the couch. Nightmare had been in his room the whole week and barely came out to eat while speaking as little as possible. He was worried about him, they all were, they didn't like that he didn't say anything. They weren't expecting a speech, but if only he could tell them how he felt so they could find a proper way to apologize instead of staying silent. All they wanted was to know what they could do for him, what he wanted, did he want them to never talk about it again ? Did he want them to leave ? Did he want them to swear their loyalty a new time ? They didn't know what he would want and they didn't want to make a mistake again by doing something wrong or inappropriate.

He was about to get up when the sound of a teleportation made him turn his head just in time to see Nightmare crashing on the floor against the armchair, panting heavily, bloody cuts everywhere on his body and arrows in his back.

- Nightmare ?! He exclaimed in chock.

He jumped up, but before he could even rush to his boss's side a blinding purple light erupted from the skeleton's body, making him put his arms in front of his face. When he put them down once the light disappeared, Nightmare wasn't there anymore and in his place laid the tiny dragon, shaking, his fur sticky with blood. The arrows were on the floor next to him, having fallen out in the transformation.

Killer approached slowly, his hands shaking too. Once the dragon spotted him he started growling, his ears flat against his neck.

- It's okay bud, I'm not gonna hurt you... he tried to reassure the dragon as he stopped moving.

The little creature just kept growling, trying to crawl away from him, shaking with all of his members.

- Kills ? I heard you scream, you okay ? Dust asked, arriving in the living room.

He rapidly spotted Nightmare and froze, seeing how the dragon's gaze locked on him.

- What happened ? Why is he hurt ? And why is he a dragon again ?

Killer tried to think, not knowing just what to do, the dragon was scared and hurt and he wanted to help him, but what if they made the same mistake as the first time ? What if they touched the dragon again and Nightmare didn't like that ?

- I- I don't know, I was on the couch and he popped out of nowhere, hurt, and he just transformed... he quickly explained, I think it's a form he takes when he's too weakened ?

The dragon tried to stand up, only to whine in pain and fall on his side again.

- We'll see that later, he needs help. Dust declared, approaching again.

Nightmare growled louder, baring his teeth as a blue light appeared in his mouth.

- It's okay, it's us, we're going to help you.. Dust began but was interrupted by a small fireball.

He jumped to the side to dodge it, noting how the dragon coughed but still prepared another ball. Dust kneeled, looking at Nightmare. Killer didn't move, his whole being was telling him to rush to his side and heal him but that would just make him panic even more and hurt himself. He let Dust try to appease the situation.

- It's okay Night, we just want to help... we'll heal those wounds and then we'll leave you alone... he talked in a soft tone.

The dragon curled further into a ball, breathing out little sparks of blue fire, he looked terrified, his one eyelight fixated on Dust. Did that mean Nightmare didn't trust them anymore ? Did that mean he was scared of them ? Killer's soul clenched at the thought.

- It's okay buddy, it's okay... he kept murmuring as he slowly approached his hand.

The dragon growled louder but didn't make any move to attack, looking back and forth between Dust and his hand until it was just in front of his face. He stared for a while before coming just a little closer, enough to sniff the fingers. Dust didn't move, letting the dragon sniff him and watching him slowly back away again, having stopped growling.

- Kills, go grab the med kit please, and warn the others, he commanded after a few seconds.

Killer nodded, quickly teleporting to the nursery and leaving Dust with Nightmare. The dragon flinched when Killer dissapeared, growling again.

- It's okay, he went to grab stuff to help you, everything's fine. He reassured.

When Killer appeared again he took the plastic case and opened it in front of him to let the dragon see its countenance, while Killer left once more to warn the two remaining skeletons that their boss was hurt and back in his dragon form, and that they should go slowly with him.

Dust took the items he needed one by one, handing each one to the dragon to let him sniff it before putting it down next to him.

- I'm gonna get closer, okay ? He warned.

He slowly approached, staying on the ground as to prevent dominating the dragon with his height. He saw him tense, a fireball starting to form in his mouth before he began coughing again, leaving him whining and shaking.

- Easy bud, easy... it's gonna sting a little, but I promise you'll feel better afterward..

He put disinfectant on a clean cloth and slowly started to clean the drying blood on the dragon's fur, clenching his teeth each time he whined in pain when Dust would clean the wounds.

- I know buddy, I know.. I don't like it either, I'm sorry... he apologized.

He didn't like hurting him, but he had to do it, he had to clean the cuts and bandage them up, he couldn't leave him like that, he just hoped Nightmare would understand...

- I'm almost done...

He finished wrapping the bandages around his paws and abdomen, careful not to tie them too tight, and backed up again. The dragon was shaking, Dust had to take his little sweater off as it was bloody and ripped, and was now curled on the cold stoned floor.

- I brought a cover...

Dust flinched, turning his head around, he didn't notice Cross arriving behind him.

- Is he okay... ? He asked with a shaky voice.

- Yeah... a little shaken up, but he'll be fine... he reassured his friend.

Cross sighed in relief, handing the thick plaid to him. Dust took it and installed it right next to Nightmare, making it so he could crawl inside and be covered.

The dragon stared at them then at the little improvised nest, sniffing the air before slowly, carefully, taking a shaky step towards it. Dust held the entrance opened for him, letting him take his time to crawl in and lay down in a comfortable position before putting the cover down. Only his head poked out. Dust wanted to give him a few pats, to scratch his ear and tell him he had been very brave not moving while he healed him, but he didn't want to risk humiliating Nightmare again, so he didn't.

Horror arrived with a bowl in his hands, Killer came to find him and told him about the situation, so he had decided to prepare something to eat for the little guy, something easy he wouldn't need to chew. He had opted for some plain biscuits broken and mixed with water to make a sort of porridge. He put the bowl down in front of the nest.

- Here, eat a little... he encouraged him, backing down.

Nightmare looked up at him before slowly straightening enough to bend forward and slowly licking the mixture, his little purple tongue looking pale.

They all stayed there, watching over the little dragon as he slept in his small nest. He looked so much smaller like that...

They didn't dare go away, but they didn't dare touch him either, all painfully aware that the last time they did that things only went downhill afterwards and that was why they were at this point now. They always made sure that at least one of them would remain relatively close in case there was a problem, and they all slept in the living room. The dragon kept watching them, not moving from his nest for the first two days, then slowly trying to walk a little, never going too far before coming back to the cover. He would sometimes sit down and look at them with what they could only describe as a pleading look, then go back to lay down when seeing they didn't move to give him what he wanted. What did he want ? They didn't know for sure, they could only assume it was for them to make the pain go away, but they couldn't really do that.

It lasted a whole week, a week of hearing the dragon cry and seeing him so sad at all time, they didn't know what to do. Cross was sitting in the couch when Nightmare got up from his nest and walked over to him, still slow, but already faster than the first days. The dragon came to him and gently headbutted his leg to gain his attention. Cross looked down.

- What's wrong ? Do you need anything ?

He glanced at his bowl, it was still half full, and his bandages were clean. The dragon whined, looking at the soldier.

- I'm sorry, I don't know how to help more...

It pained him to see the small dragon like that and being powerless to make him feel better. Nightmare lifted a paw, tapping it against the couch.

- You want to get on the couch ? He asked.

Nightmare kept looking at him, his paw against the side of the mattress.

- O-Okay, just, please don't move and be careful not to fall...

Cross bent down, very slowly grabbing the dragon by his chest and back paws to put him on the couch next to him.

- Oookay here you go...

Nightmare didn't struggle, waiting to be put down before turning and making his way towards the soldier.

- Where are you going ? Cross confusedly asked.

The dragon didn't stop, carefully climbing Cross's laps to lay down, resting his head on his paws with a little sigh. Cross froze, not daring to move. Was it a good sign ? Nightmare was the one to make the decision, did that mean it was safe ? Could he pet him without it being a bad move ? He wasn't sure, but seeing the dragon so sad was unbearable, and so he gently put a hand on his back, petting him ever so carefully. The little dragon didn't move, closing his eye, a soft purr starting to get heard. Cross was so close to crying, so close to break down completely, he was so worried about Nightmare, so scared to have ruined their relationship, he just wished he understood they meant no harm, and even now they just wanted to help him...

Nightmare didn't move from the couch for the night, rolled up against an arm rest buried under Horror's jacket, he decided he was done sleeping on the ground. They let him do so. He woke up in the morning, before everyone else. He had taken his skeletal form back and kept the jacket around his shoulders.

He looked at them sleeping. They took care of him, they healed him and kept apologizing to the dragon, not forcing any contact, letting him come to them. It... meant a lot.

When they woke up, they quickly spotted that he was back pretty rapidly as their first move in the morning was always check on him. They didn't talk however, letting him begin, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by saying something they shouldn't have when Nightmare made the effort to stay and not lock himself back in his room.

- Go on, I know you have questions... he finally said.

Killer was the first to talk.

- Why didn't you tell us about the dragon... ?

Nightmare looked at him for a moment before looking down, searching for what to say, he sighed; he owed them the truth.

- I was scared of your reaction... my... my dragon form is small, the species is just like that, and... people used that to their advantage... it's not that I didn't trust you, I just... I felt safer with a lie to protect myself...

They listened to him, nodding in understanding.

- But who would hurt such a small creature... ? Cross asked, horrified by the thought of the dragon getting hurt.

Nightmare shivered, feeling some old memories coming back to the surface.

- He's small, easy to kick and hold down... and his fur and antlers are expensive... don't ask me how I know that, please... he answered honestly.

Cross let out a gasp, not wanting to believe such atrocities could have been committed against the small dragon.

- We won't let anyone hurt you like that again, ever, Dust claimed with a resigned tone.

Nightmare looked at him. Horror agreed.

- We'll protect you, promise... no one... will touch you... he confirmed.

Nightmare let the words sink in for a moment, before feeling himself smile a little and nod.

- Thanks...

- We're sorry for what we did, we didn't mean any harm, we would never... Dust apologized again.

- I know... he chuckled, you'll have to apologize to the dragon too, he wasn't happy with the lack of attention this week..

The little commentary helped appease the tension in the air and they all could breath and talk like they all used to talk together, spending the whole morning just calmly discussing on the couches...

Nightmare would need time to get used to letting his dragon form out more often, but his friends seemed to genuinely like him very much, and the dragon liked them just as much as he liked them, so maybe it was for the greater good...

- Does he have a name ?! Killer exclaimed.

- I... don't think so ? Nightmare replied.

He never wondered if the dragon had a name of his own or if they shared the same. Not that it ever mattered.

- Can I call him Lord Noot ?! He proposed excitedly.

- No you may not, Nightmare refused.

Killer whined with a pouty face, making the others laugh.

Yeah, maybe it wouldn't be that bad...

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #26

History hates Lovers

Imagine dis…

When Batman got lost in time it was said that he made some signs or even some symbols that send a message in the future. For example, a portrait that looked exactly like him or even a cave painting of a bat that looked too modernized to be from the early cavemen.

But it seems that we have forgotten that every change that he made whether it was just standing in a portrait as a background has a severe consequence in the time stream. The butterfly effect rests on the notion that the world is deeply interconnected, such that one small occurrence can influence a much larger complex system. The effect is named after an allegory for chaos theory; it evokes the idea that a small butterfly flapping its wings could, hypothetically, cause a typhoon.

Small changes could result in another and entirely new timeline, whether the changes were small enough that people don’t notice or large enough that people merely conceived it as normal.

But at the end of the day it still changes, so how did the timeline remain stable as it is?

(I am no expert in time travel so don’t get your hopes up, I do enjoy a good time travel or time travel -fix it fic in A03)

…

Bruce didn’t know where and when he is right now. Still weak and disoriented from the consent way he fell from each timeline. One moment he could be in the middle of a group of cavemen and then he was at the edge of a town in the Middle Ages. 

He kept sending messages subtle as they may be, as long as they survived the passage of time and arrived to his future. He just hopes that his teammates can see his messages, especially with the flash in their midst who had both knowledge and experience in time travel.

He tried to fit in every time he tried to send a message as the last thing, he needed was to change the time. 

…

But little did Bruce know the little messages he kept making and sending, despite their subtleness still created a butterfly effect. It makes some of the people in the period who were supposed to be in time to some event pause and take a look at the mysterious symbols and signs that Bruce made. Thus, making them late or even have some delay, thus creating a large domino effect that started small. From insignificant people, people who are just literally background characters who just have a very short greeting or meeting with someone in the event made the entire timeline crack.

Clockwork was looking at the time stream due to the fragile situation at hand. CW knew that this event was crucial for the Red Robin’s growth as a detective and vigilante. But the small cracks are turning into something unchangeable, CW knew that this was the only communication that the Dark Knight could send as well it was his way to get back to his own time.

Yet CW can see the cracks getting larger and larger, with each move that the Dark Knight made creating more holes in his known future. Usually, such events as the Dark Knight's faces don’t create any consequences or even affect the time stream of the said dimension as it was meant to be. An event unavertable in the end is more justifiable than the means.

But due to the Flash family going back in time as well the countless time traveler visitors made the time stream in that dimension week and prone to break in any given time. It was just a surprise to CW that it lasted so long.

CW found a solution in the form of his apprentice/ grandson, Phantom. Despite the young ghost being an Ancient of Space as well as the King of Infinite Realms he still needs a mentor to not only guide him to his new duties as an Ancient but also his responsibilities as the future High King.

Space and Time are two sides of the same coin thus CW ended up being the mentor of the young Phantom. 

Clockwork sent Danny to not only seal in the cracks in the flow of time but also want some great-grandchildren, if you heard the last part then you heard nothing from me.

…

Danny didn’t know he was getting in when Clockwork sent him out to another errand at another time. He should have gotten used to CW’s vague and cryptic errands through time when he was a teen, but as he was sealing another crack from time, he saw something that shouldn’t be in the period. A man clearly from out of time trying and failing to fit in, though he may have fooled the locals but he had been traveling and fixing time since he was in high school. 

At first, he looked perplexed but if CW didn’t mention anything then he won’t do anything.

But slowly Danny realized that whichever period the guy was in, it was where the next set of cracks would be, so Danny decided to follow the guy.

…

Bruce may still be weary and tired from the constant falling through time but even in his tired state can see that there is someone following him.

Every era there that man was, seemingly walking around aimlessly but then he noticed that he kept a good distance away from him.

Eventually, it led to and confrontation between the two males.

…

Danny who explained that despite having the power to travel through time cannot help Bruce as his little messages are creating small cracks in the time stream and are merely there to seal up the cracks, but offers news that he will get back to his own time.

Bruce who is just wishing for human contact that relates to him as well in the verge of going off to the Flash to stop going back in time for another chance to eat a breakfast that tasted better than before.

…

The two began conversing with one another and slowly fell in love.

…

Bruce is the first one to fall hard, Danny whose light-heartedness brought Bruce out of his shell. It had only taken a few conversations with each other to lose his shield around his heart. Danny both accepted both Bruce and Batman within him. Danny’s smile lights up Bruce’s world, at first Bruce tries to hide his feelings to Danny so as not to lose his only companion throughout the ordeal.

…

The two began dancing around their feelings and Bruce in an out of character of him sent a love letter and a poem to Danny when the ghost was needed somewhere else to seal the crack.

As old as I am, I have had the most dreadful experiences in love. I have a very dark past and I'm a damaged soul. My past experiences have groomed me into believing that there's no such thing as true love, but with you, I feel different. You make me fall in love with myself too. You always make me smile, and I'm scared. I'm scared to fall in love and get broken again, I'm scared to give my all, only to be used again, to get shamed and embarrassed. I've seen how careful and caring you are around me, but sometimes you give me a cold shoulder, and it's small things like these that break me. Please bear with me and be fragile. I come from a very painful past where I had to be a woman and have no say. All this love and affection is a little scary to me because I'm not used to it. I'm falling for you and I'm falling hard. I hope our love story has a happy ending. Know that I will always love and cherish you.

 (Mmakoma Kamogelo. "My Confession." Family Friend Poems, September 6, 2016. https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/my-confession-2)

Danny who received the letter burned red from reading the poem to the point his freckles were the only thing prominent on his red face, Danny knew that this man was from the future and couldn't help but feel a little bit insecure. That man, the Batman is someone out of his league but sends out a letter and a poem of his own.

Published by Family Friend Poems September 2016 with permission of the Author.

My love for you is uncontrollable.

 My feelings for you are unstoppable.

 Can't go a day without thinking about you.

 Without you, I'm not complete.

 With you, my heart finds its beat.

 My heart is filled with joy because of your love.

 You are my strength, and without you I'm weak.

 Before you came into my life, I was

 Hopeless, lonely, sad.

 When you showed up, I knew that you were sent to me. (Namely CW, Danny just knew that old Ancient did something)

 You are always here to support me.

 Your smile makes me shy,

 And sometimes I wonder where you have been all this while,

 But I'm just glad that I managed to get you in my life...

 YOU FILL MY HEART WITH JOY!

(Mmakoma Kamogelo. "My Confession." Family Friend Poems, September 6, 2016. https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/my-confession-2)

…

When the two realized both were pinning to one another began sending each other little love notes, in the form of short poems to full-blown letters.

Both males whenever received a letter when one was apart, collected and hid it in a box to reread each stroke of the letter from the other, and whenever they were together, they just spent the entire day basking in each other’s presence.

Their little note exchange didn’t stop whenever Bruce fell to another period, Danny just followed him and started a new exchange mail of letters.

Of course, both used pseudonyms in their letters ranging from initials to fake names using only the letters from their names.

…

When Bruce was saved by Red Robin, he felt relieved as he could now stop falling into another period but another shock as he didn’t get to say goodbye to Danny.

Bruce knew that someday it come, but he was going to offer Danny the future with him. He is going to offer Danny the world, but it seems that it was never meant to be.

Maybe that’s why his past self never met Danny, too disappointed, too dejected to meet him once again.

…

It has been a few months since he came back to his future, it was another family outing organized by Dick.

It was a museum featuring the latest found by archeologists, as Bruce was surveying case to another case, he fell upon a worn-out parchment with his handwriting.

Wide-eyed, Bruce looked closely at the exhibit and found that the description said the letter was about a man named “Brooks” confessing his love in the form of a short poem to a woman named “Daniella” who had the same feelings as him but had other responsibilities to fully go where he is.

Bruce began looking at the other exhibits and there along rows and rows of his letter exchange with Danny from different periods. 

Jason and Tim who were a few cases away from him began having a heated discussion with a stranger about the supposed woman in the letters being a man the entire exchange is between a pair of male couple, and the so-called Historians are hiding the fact that it was between men.

Bruce was about to interfere with the upcoming verbal fight when a stranger beside him commented that “Daniella” probably missed “Brooks” as the last letter and poem to the exchange when “Daniella” noticed that “Brooks” is no longer responding is…

(By E.E. Cummings)

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

 my heart)I am never without it(anywhere

 I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done

 by only me is your doing, my darling)

                           I fear

 no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet)i want

 no world(for beautiful you are my world, my true)

 and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

 and whatever a sun will always sing is you

 here is the deepest secret nobody knows

 (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

 and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

 higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)

 and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

 i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

 (E.E. Cummings. "[i Carry Your Heart With Me(i Carry It In]." Family Friend Poems, https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/i-carry-your-heart-with-me-by-ee-cummings)

Bruce is startled as he doesn’t even notice Danny’s last letter to him when he takes a good look at the stranger…

…

There he is, Danny in his early 30’s looking at him with softness and deep love in his eyes and a gentle smile. As if he hadn’t waited centuries for Bruce to appear once again, and what looked like willing to wait once again for him.

…

PS: If someone out there wanted to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

PPS: As you can see, I have never fallen in love and please mind my poor and lack of love life in my life to relate to my work.

PPPS: I decided to post a bit early, I've got something going on to the actual February 14.

[somefanficrecomendations]

April Monthly Recap

I’m back! I took some time off to finish out the semester and get my life back in order and I’m finally able to post again. I’ve barely had time to post about fics, let alone read them, so this month’s recap is a month late. But hey, better late than never?

BATMAN

Plato's Allegory of the Batcave by hppjmxrgosg (gen), 2k, Dick Grayson Character Study “So who do you think was the angstiest Robin?” Stephanie asked. In which Dick Grayson contemplates what Robin meant to him, what it means to everyone else, and how he has to reconcile the two. OR I get my filthy hands on one (1) Dick Grayson and shake him until a character analysis falls out.

Hat Off to the Bats by dietpudding (gen), 6k, Crack Treated Seriously "I've identified a pattern in the frequency of Mad Hatter's previous breakouts. Data shows he's more likely to stay put after he scores a new hat." "Go on." Steph perks up in her seat. Now that she knows to look for it, she can easily spot the manic twink to his eye that Tim gets whenever he's about to act a little unhinged. "I like where this is going." Tim's lips twist into a mischievous grin. "How comfortable are we with ghostwriting a heist?" "Extremely comfortable," Steph replies with an equally roguish smirk.

Ad Infinitum; Modified by familiarities (twistsandturns) (gen), 8k, Time Loop Tim is hunched over his computer, bouncing between a report for B (Batman, not Bruce) and a spreadsheet for B (Bruce, not Batman) when Jason stumbles into the cave. If it weren’t for the fact that Jason had been in a somewhat good mood lately, Tim probably would have been a little more concerned about this fact. Still, it’s weird when, instead of ignoring Tim’s existence like he usually does, Jason walks over to him directly and says, “I'm in a time loop and I don't know why. Fix it."

IRIS Log #1548 by deadchannelradio (gen), 8k, Paperwork, Humor (01:25) Red Hood: (Mild static) (Out of breath, slurred) You motherfuckers. Put some fuckin- (01:25) Batman: (Shaking) Red Hood- (01:25) Red Hood: Shut up. Put some fucking respect. On my name. Start fucking copying me. I just got thrown fucking. Um. 40 feet. Into a fucking uh. What's it. Ditch. I'm still fucking conscious. (01:25) Batman: Red Hood, do not move, we're en route- (01:25) Red Hood: What'll I win if I stand up. (01:25) Batman: (Loud) Do not stand up.

Shark Week by heartslogos  (gen), 2k, AU-Mermaid "Do you have a tail? That'd be cool." Bart says, "If you had a tail. Could we give you a sea-shell bra?"

DCU

myself and this body that they stuck me in by misspickman Superboy, (multi), 14k, Non-Binary Kon-El “Oh,” Bart says with a hint of surprise in his voice. “You look so pretty.” “I look like a girl,” he rebuts. He's not sure why he's even continuing this conversation. Bart, blissfully unaware of Kon's internal crisis, shrugs and says, “Well, I think you'd make a lovely girl.”

The Outlaws’ Guide to Parenting by Flowerparrish Pod Collabs (Flowerparrish), kbirb pods (kbirb), Opalsong (Roy Harper/Koriand'r/Jason Todd), 4k, 40 mins, Podfic, Texting Roy: so you know how I had that fling with Chershire for a month or two a couple years ago? Roy: apparently the condom broke Kori: You have a child! Jason: of fucking course we're keeping her

SHERLOCK

The Least of All Possible Mistakes by rageprufrock (Multi), 118k, Female!Gregory Lestrade If ever a people deserved tasering, it’s Holmeses.

[persephoneprice]

24 days of mentors // day 4

florus friend.

playlist.

the view between villages - noah kahan

the lakes - taylor swift

i know the end - phoebe bridgers

favorite fics.

allegory of the cave by abyssalplain

this weird florus thing i wrote

headcanons.

his grandmother, servia q. smith, is a renowned historian in panem. unfortunately, she’s known as the ��woman who rewrote history’ for a reason

florus is also a historian and has journals upon journals documenting everything he has seen throughout his life

florus has few friends and largely goes ignored by the rest of their class. the games were the first time he was really getting attention and he blew it.

[inawickedlittletown]

You Can Always Find Me Where the Skies are Blue (BuckTommy fic) - 1/4

Summary:

Soulmates are rare. So rare that it's actually incredible that Buck has two soulmate couples in his life. Statistics tell him it's very unlikely for him to meet his soulmate. Of course, then he meets Tommy. Too bad it happens at the worst possible moment.

Canon compliant soulmate AU where Buck is still a mess and Tommy is still very understanding.

Words: 4,378

Ao3

-

Part One

The truth was that Buck never quite got an understanding for how the whole soulmate thing worked. His parents were soulmates which was strange to think about considering his childhood, but then Buck hadn’t known about the older brother he’d been born to save, the one he’d failed to save. 

From what he’d learned in school, soulmates had been more common in the past. They said it was something to do with population growth or something about cultural life experience and technology. 

There was a lot of research on why soulmates had dwindled, but no one had concrete answers. There was some kind of database where soulmates had to register. So while it wasn’t impossible to find a couple that were actually soulmates, more often than not people settled down with someone that wasn’t their soulmate. A lot of them were happy. 

Buck thought that one day, it would seem like some kind of myth. Instead of viewing Aristophanes’ speech in Plato’s symposium as an explanation, it would become legend. It would no longer be an early explanation of soulmates. It would be like Plato’s allegory of the cave, a thing to consider without real life application. 

And so, before Buck had even reached the age of eighteen, he was sure that he would never find his soulmate. He wasn’t resigned to it, he just knew enough about statistics and probability. Most people wouldn’t meet their soulmate. It was just how math worked. 

When he joined the 118, he couldn’t deny that a part of him had been surprised when he learned that Hen was married to her soulmate. He’d asked so many questions that Hen had eventually banned him from continuing to ask. 

It hadn’t stopped Buck from thinking that it was amazing. More surprising was his sister and Chim and how Buck had missed the whole thing even though he was the one to introduce them. That whole thing had made Buck well aware that even among soulmates things could be complicated. 

So, when Buck followed behind Chim and Eddie onto the tarmac of LAFD Harbor station air operations, the worry in his gut growing and growing the more he thought about Bobby and Athena being unreachable and Hen being correct about the need to go out and rescue them, he didn’t expect to meet his soulmate. 

In the books, it never described what it was like. It only said that you would know it if it happened to you. The book was right. 

Buck knew it the moment their eyes met. 

It was the world snapping to focus, narrowing down on that person and saying: “this one is for you”. It was a feeling in his gut. Tommy Kinard missed a step and as for Buck, he froze on the spot. What felt like minutes translated to seconds, but it was enough for them to both know. 

They were soulmates. 

Chim was explaining, expanding on what he’d said to Tommy over the phone as their uber driver drove them to Harbor. Tommy was nodding, but his eyes were on Buck and Buck couldn’t look away from him either. 

It was only when Tommy looked away that Buck dropped his eyes from Tommy. He tried to shake it off, remembering why they had faked stomach issues and left in the middle of a call. Yes, he might have found his soulmate, but it wasn’t the time or place. Of course, what they were about to do was verging on stupid and reckless…but if Hen was right — and she most likely was — then they had to and Buck couldn’t complicate matters because their pilot turned out to be his soulmate. 

He could tell that Tommy seemed to have decided the same from how quickly he began directing them to a helicopter.

“Thanks again, Tommy,” Chim said. “We’ll for sure owe you one. Collect from any of us.”

“That would require I know who exactly I’m allowing onto my helicopter,” Tommy said. 

Eddie stepped forward first, hand out to shake Tommy’s. “Eddie Diaz,” he said.

“I’m Evan Buckley,” Buck said, and he knew his voice was shaky. 

None of them noticed because it seemed that Hen had arrived. Tommy’s hand touched Buck’s shoulder. “Get situated. I’ll get Hen.”

His shoulder felt warm, it was in Buck’s head, but still it lingered even as he climbed in first. He took a few breaths to center himself. They would have time to deal with it later. He had to focus on that. By the time they were in the air, that got a little easier. When Tommy mentioned that they might all die, Buck felt the loss of what he’d just found and he wanted to scream. In a way, it also made perfect sense for his life. Of course he would meet his soulmate, get into a life or death situation, and perish. 

When they found the capsized cruise ship, he almost felt relieved, followed by the fear of what they would find once they got down there. Bobby and Athena had to be alright, they just had to be. 

Focusing on the work kept him from thinking about Tommy and about everything that came with it because there were so many layers to get through. It was a while before Bobby, the kid, and Eddie had climbed into the back of the helicopter, leaving Buck to sit up front. 

Tommy glanced at him right as he settled himself in and he smiled a smile that scrunched up his nose and the corners of his eyes. Buck shouldn’t have found it so endearing, then again, this was his soulmate. Buck smiled back and he wanted nothing more than to bring it up, to confirm with Tommy what they both knew to be true. He couldn’t, though. He didn’t want to do it over the open channel. So, instead, he turned away, admiring the clear blue skies and the water below. It was as if the storm they flew into hadn’t been there at all. When he looked back at Tommy again, it was even harder to look away, but he forced himself to when the helicopter touched down on the ship. 

His mind couldn’t quite wrap around it. He had a soulmate. He, Evan Buckley had a soulmate and he’d met him. Him. His soulmate was a dude. A man. It was hitting him secondary to the initial thing, that he had a soulmate at all. 

Same sex soulmates were a normal thing, Buck knew, it was just that in most instances soulmates were romantic and Buck wasn’t gay. He loved women. He slept with women. He was attracted to women. 

Bobby walked ahead of them and Buck heard Hen calling out to Athena. Buck stopped to watch as Bobby and Athena ran into each other’s arms and he was caught up in the moment. He hadn’t gotten a lot of time with Athena when Tommy first landed the helicopter on the capsized ship, but he’d seen her worry for Bobby. That was the devotion and love that Buck wanted…what he’d been searching for and failing to find for years. 

Athena and Bobby weren’t even soulmates, though they may as well be. They had always given Buck hope that he could be happy without a soulmate…but now he’d found his soulmate. Tommy. 

Eddie was next to him, but Buck was a little more focused on Tommy approaching. It all still felt like the wrong place or time and as Eddie headed towards the other side of the ship, leaving them seemingly alone, Buck had no idea what to do. Slowly, he turned to look at Tommy. Tommy was smiling wide. He looked beautiful. Buck didn’t think he’d ever thought that about a dude before and yet it was true. Their shared look was enough to confirm what Buck already knew. 

“You’re—” Buck managed to get out, his throat closing in on the word. 

“Yeah…we are,” Tommy said. His eyes were shining. 

Buck’s mind went blank, words and thoughts jumbled up in a way that had never happened before. Tommy seemed if not similarly affected, then willing to wait for Buck to be the first to say something. Buck also realized that he didn’t mind just losing himself in staring at Tommy. 

He only looked away when Eddie was back, bumping into his shoulder and delivering a bottle of water to him and Tommy each, entirely oblivious to what was going on between them. Buck’s hands shook as he opened the bottle, but he was grateful and drank almost all of it in one go. 

Eddie was talking about their ETA back to LA when Chim appeared at Tommy’s side. 

“Can’t thank you enough, man,” he said, clapping Tommy on the shoulder. 

Tommy laughed. “I’m always a call away, Howie. But, thank you…I really…thank you.” 

Chim just shook his head, but Tommy’s eyes were on Buck and Buck inhaled a breath. He’d have to thank Chim too, eventually. It wasn’t lost on him that he had introduced Chin to his soulmate and that Chim had now introduced Buck to his. 

Bobby and Athena approached, arms still around each other. They looked exhausted, but happy. 

“I was so glad to see you two,” Bobby said, directed at Buck and Eddie. Then, he turned towards Tommy. “And you…thank you, for helping these guys out.” 

Bobby reached out a hand and Tommy grasped it and Buck could tell he was shocked by Bobby pulling him into a quick but meaningful hug. Athena for her part just pat Tommy’s shoulder. 

It should have bothered Buck that he had yet to have a single moment alone with his soulmate, but he liked having him there among his family. They would talk about it, figure out what it meant later. It gave Buck a bit of time to think, too. He had a soulmate. His soulmate was a man. His soulmate was Tommy, a ridiculously impressive LAFD pilot. 

Buck was an ally. He always put a rainbow up on his social media in June. He’d gone to a few pride parades since living in LA. He’d never dated a guy before, though, never even thought that it was a possibility for him. Looking at Tommy, he wondered if Tommy had known that men were an option for him. All that Buck really knew about the guy was that he’d been with the 118 as far back as when Chim had become a firefighter and that he hadn’t stayed too long after Bobby took over as Captain. 

Maybe they were meant to be platonic…have some deep understanding about each other that no one else could ever comprehend. A little like he and Eddie, maybe. That wouldn’t be too bad. 

He stole glances of Tommy as Bobby and Athena started to tell them exactly what had gone down even before the hurricane. Buck was having a hard time focusing, but the few things he caught did make it seem like it had been far more eventful than any cruise had a right to be. 

He couldn’t deny that Tommy was attractive. He was tall and his arms were kind of huge. Tommy’s attention was wholly on Athena and Bobby, eyebrows a bit furrowed as Bobby explained how it had felt when the ship capsized. Buck’s attention was on the way Tommy’s mouth moved as if out of surprise for what Bobby had just said. His attention was drawn to Tommy’s storm colored eyes and on the slight curl of his hair. 

“I wish you had been there to see him, Buck,” Athena said. 

Buck refocused. Eyes reluctantly going to Athena. 

“Well, if Buck had been there, he would have been the one doing that climb,” Bobby said. “I’m going to be sore for days.” 

“I don’t think that’s the only reason,” Athena said. 

Tommy was called away before Buck could find a reason to explain wanting to talk to him on his own and then the next time he saw him, he was saying a quick goodbye and heading back to the helicopter. Buck watched him as he took off and wished that somehow he’d had a reason to go with him. 

“Cool guy,” Eddie said. 

“Yeah,” Buck said and he knew he sounded awestruck. 

—

Tommy had known from the moment he saw him. 

When his phone rang and Howie’s name appeared, Tommy had sort of known that Chim probably wanted something from him. It was why he called at all these days, but Tommy didn’t mind. He wasn’t wrong and as Chim explained something about Hen having a hunch and how she was probably gonna not pull off whatever she was thinking she was doing, Tommy had already mostly agreed to help. After all, Chim did save his life and he had a lot of respect for Hen too. 

Then, Chim arrived with two firefighters in tow. They both looked the part, strong and sturdy kind of guys. Attractive, though Tommy tried not to notice that type of thing while at work and most definitely about colleagues. It wasn’t until they had gotten nearer that Tommy got a better look at them, a better look at his soulmate. 

Tommy had never known that he would ever replicate the feeling of flying while on solid ground, but if asked to describe it later, that was what it felt like when his eyes landed on his soulmate right before he paused mid-step and almost lost his balance. He didn’t even know his name. 

Chim was giving him a more in depth explanation about the cruise ship and storm and Hen’s part in it, but while Tommy could hear him, he couldn’t process the information. He led them to the helicopter, glad it was already out on the tarmac and that it had been refueled just a few hours earlier. 

“Thanks again, Tommy,” Chim said. “We’ll for sure owe you one. Collect from any of us.”

“That would require I knew who exactly I was allowing onto my helicopter,” Tommy said, sure that if he didn’t say anything, he wouldn’t get to know his soulmate’s name. 

“Eddie Diaz,” the one that wasn’t his soulmate said, reaching his hand out for Tommy to shake.

“I’m Evan Buckley.”

Evan. Tommy repeated it inside his head. Evan. 

They didn’t shake hands like he and Eddie had, and Tommy had heard how shaky his voice sounded. He also didn’t miss the slight pink on Evan’s cheeks.  It was horrible timing. He could see the shock and awe in Evan’s face, but it was going to have to wait. So Tommy did the thing where he pushed aside the personal to focus on his job. He got Hen to the helicopter where the others were already stashed and then they were in the air. 

Tommy had been flying for so long that his focus didn’t need to be on it 100% of the time. It let him linger on the moment from earlier, what it had been like to see Evan Buckley for the very first time. He held onto that moment as they flew, even as he realized that what they were doing verged more on the dangerous and reckless side than anything he’d ever done. He had to get them through it, even when he had to make awful fake static noises at the chief and ignore his orders to get back to Harbor. 

In the end, it all worked out. 

They found the cruise ship and they were lucky they did, none of them talked about how easy it would have been for them to miss it. It was hours of work after that, not that Tommy minded. Eventually, he made a final trip to pick up Bobby, the kid he’d rescued, and Eddie and Evan. 

Evan wound up up front and maybe it was presumptuous to think about how good Evan looked right there at his side. Tommy hoped it would happen again and soon. With the skies having cleared up, the sun shone through and in the moments that Tommy allowed himself to take Evan in, there was no denying how gorgeous this boy was especially when the light hit him just right. 

With everything going on, they didn’t get more than a small moment to acknowledge it once they were on the ship and Tommy felt warm because it was real. He had a soulmate. 

It wasn’t until he was back at Harbor that he realized he hadn’t exchanged numbers with Evan — not that it was a big deal. He’d just have to call Chim. Yet, as much as there was an urgency, Tommy was still at work and he still had to write up a report about the night and explain to his Captain exactly what had gone down before he could finally end his shift. 

He texted Chim as he walked to his car almost an hour later, but got no response. When his phone did start vibrating, it was an unknown number. He picked up at once, heart in his throat because it had to be Evan. 

“Hello,” he said and hoped he sounded normal. 

“Hey, Tommy, it’s Eddie.”

He tried not to be disappointed, but of course he was. It was nothing against Eddie…it was just that he wanted to hear from Evan. 

“Got your number from Chim. I hope it’s okay I’m calling. I was just wondering if you’d want to meet up sometime,” Eddie said. 

For one very strange moment, Tommy wondered if Eddie was trying to ask him out. He probably had no idea that he and Evan were soulmates and…but, no, he didn’t think that Eddie had seemed interested in him like that. Tommy did wonder if it would be rude to ask Eddie for Evan’s number. He missed something that Eddie said, but caught:

“....drinks or something. Maybe as a thank you for helping us get to Bobby and Athena.” 

“Uh, sure,” Tommy said. 

“Cool. Cool. How about later tonight?” 

Tommy wasn’t great at saying no to things. He also had no reason to put Eddie off. “Yeah…yeah that sounds good. And if you want to invite anyone else from the 118 that’d be great.” 

Eddie chuckled. “I think they’re all pretty beat. It might just be us two, unless you want to bring along a friend or something.” 

Tommy wanted to ask about Evan. He wanted nothing more than to beg Eddie to bring Evan along. Knew if he did he would be giving away what they were or even just his interest in Evan. He couldn’t do that. 

“I’ll text you when and where,” Eddie said. “Just gotta secure a babysitter.”

“Okay,” Tommy said. “Sounds good.” 

Chim still hadn’t answered. Tommy texted Hen next. No response. Maybe it would be Eddie that would give him Evan’s number…Tommy would just have to show up for that hang out and get the number out of Eddie. Or maybe, Evan would call him first. He hadn’t known that this was going to be complicated and actually it kind of wasn’t, it was that he was impatient. 

Tommy managed a nap out of sheer exhaustion. He’d learned a long time ago how to sleep almost anywhere, which didn’t change that sometimes he just couldn’t sleep. Yet, despite not having contact with Evan, there was peace in knowing he was out there and knowing that he was his soulmate. 

Evan didn’t call. Chim and Hen didn’t respond. Eddie texted him the name of a bar that Tommy knew well. Some of the guys from Harbor liked going there to play pool. They also had Karaoke night every Wednesday night and trivia on Thursdays. Maybe he knew a little bit too much about that bar. So, he texted back a thumbs up and got ready to meet up with Eddie. Eddie was already at the bar when he arrived, a beer in front of him while he made small talk with the bartender. He looked relaxed, in a way that Tommy almost hadn’t expected him to be. 

“Hey!” Eddie threw out. “Glad you made it.”

He took the stool next to Eddie, ordering a beer and then turning to him. “How’s it going? I was surprised to get your call.”

Eddie smiled easily. “Well after Buck turned me down for drinks, I thought maybe you were like me and needed this a bit after everything.”

He usually didn’t. Not that it wasn’t welcome. The bartender passed him his beer. 

“Evan turned you down?” Tommy asked.

“Uh…yeah, guess he was really tired.”

“Right,” Tommy said. “It was a long night.”

A longer night than Eddie knew. Tommy took a gulp of his beer and tried to figure out a way for him to keep the conversation on Buck…Evan. He was Evan to Tommy especially knowing that everyone else seemed to use the nickname. 

“Well Bobby is kind of like a father to Buck, so even though he didn’t show it…he was really worried.”

“Oh,” Tommy said. “It’s actually like a family over there.”

“You could say that,” Eddie said with a smile. “I guess it wasn’t that when you were at the 118?”

“Farthest thing from it,” Tommy said. “I guess I left right before things changed.”

He had never once regretted leaving when he did. Tommy had always meant to get back in the air. It was where he was freest and the thing he missed the most after leaving the army. So, when he had completed the required years as a firefighter, Tommy had started looking for a transfer to any of the air operation stations. His experience as a pilot helped, and he’d found a place where he belonged. He felt freer than he ever had and it had allowed him a brand new start. One in which he could explore parts of himself he hadn’t ever thought he would.  

“I should say I’m sorry you missed out, but I’m sure you love what you do.” 

“I do,” Tommy said. 

If there was one thing, it was Evan. Would he have met him earlier if he stayed? Of course there was no changing the past. There was also who Tommy had been then and Tommy could admit to himself that he hadn’t been ready for a soulmate, much less Evan. 

Eddie drew the conversation in another direction. They started exchanging stories then. Stories about their time at the army which led into conversations about what it was like to return to a civilian life. It was hard, Tommy knew, to talk about it with regular people that hadn’t served and hadn’t seen the things they had. It was clear almost right away that Eddie didn’t have anyone to talk to about stuff like that. Tommy did still have a few friends from back then, but they weren’t all that close anymore. He figured it was exactly why Eddie had reached out. 

Past that, though, they had other things in common and it wasn’t that Tommy forgot about Evan — he was always there in his mind — it was that Tommy found himself having a good time with Eddie. They got talking basketball when the scores of a game were being reported on the tv, and when an ad for a MMA fight came on Eddie made a comment about how he missed going to see fights live. 

“Shift ran late when tickets went on sale,” Eddie said. “Didn’t even get a chance to try and get at them.” 

“I have tickets for this one,” Tommy said. 

“I hate you right now,” Eddie said, but he said it with a grin. 

He hadn’t bought them. A buddy of his had asked if Tommy wanted to go and then because he was a promoter, given him the two tickets. Tommy had meant to ask someone from Harbor if they wanted to go with him, but he’d forgotten. 

“Hey, you want to go with me?” 

“What? Wait, are you serious, man?” 

“Yeah. I mean, it was gonna go to waste, so why not? Fight’s in Vegas. I can probably fly us there.” 

Eddie’s grin grew wider. “Hell yeah, that sounds amazing.” 

“Yeah?” 

Eddie’s hand landed on his shoulder. “You just made my night, man. This is awesome.” 

They talked MMA fighting for a while and he could tell that Eddie had probably dabbled in it a bit. 

“So,” he said two beers in. “Is this the norm for you and Evan? Going out after a shift?” 

“When my kid allows,” Eddie said. “Half the time we’re at my house or his apartment with Chris. Marisol’s gotten used to it.” 

“Marisol?”

“My girlfriend,” Eddie said. 

“Ah. And uh, what about his…partner?”

Tommy braced himself. He hadn’t thought about the possibility that Evan would be involved with someone. It was one of those things that you heard about, people that were happily in a relationship and suddenly one of them met their soulmate. It wasn’t like most people were out there waiting for their soulmate convinced that it was something that would actually happen.

Eddie laughed. “He broke up with his last girlfriend a little while ago. She was a death doula if you can believe that’s a real thing.” 

“I can’t actually,” Tommy said. “But clearly it didn’t work out.” 

“Nope,” Eddie said. “He has the worst luck.” 

“Maybe that’s changing,” Tommy said. 

The conversation shifted again somehow and Tommy couldn’t ask more questions about Evan without giving away that he was looking for information on him. Tommy didn’t want to tell Eddie about Evan being his soulmate, not without first speaking to Evan. He did garner that Eddie and Evan were close, but despite trying several times, didn’t manage to finangle a way to ask for Evan’s phone number. 

He felt a little bit pathetic. After all, who met their soulmate — a rarity in itself — and then not insist on taking a moment to talk even in spite of the circumstances? Insist on exchanging numbers? 

By the time he made it home, a little buzzed from the beer, he realized that somehow he’d made lots of plans to hang out with Eddie and none with Evan. He was a mess.

-

Part Two

[cynicalrainbows]

I'm only in the Supercorp fandom because of my wife- I haven't even watched the show and probably won't- and I love that gifs and fanart and headcanons and fic are enough to sustain me in this.

It's like Plato's allegory of the cave, except I'm not a prisoner chained to the wall, I'm a cave-dweller who is frequently invited by people to come and experience the outside and I'm waving them away because I'm more than content with my gay little wall shadows, thank you very much.

[felixravinstills]

can't believe that while I am trying to be productive with real life things florus fic has me having thoughts like "is history not a god?" and my brain is actively compiling reasons why history is in fact a god.

[steddieficfind]

I’m looking for a fic on AO3 that I don’t remember much of except for this one conversation between Dustin and Steve about Plato’s Allegory of the Cave. I think Steve was really upset thinking about the idea of babies being chained in a cave as a little funny joke. I’m sorry this might be so unhelpful but I’m pretty sure the topic is related to the overall plot somehow??

Request 1266! Send us an ask if you recognize this fic!

[thevioletcaptain]

WRITING MEME: *steeples fingers* talk to me about a WIP you've got goin' on

This is such an impossible open-ended question for my indecisive brain because I have far too many works in progress and just choosing which one to talk about is hard 😭 But let's give this a try.

Gonna take the roulette approach (opening my WIP folder, closing my eyes, scrolling up and down several times, and then clicking without looking) to save myself from The Initial Struggle.

OKAY. The WIP I landed on is an as-yet-wholly-unpublished DeanCas fic titled One More Chain Does the Maker Make. Whoo!

Here's an assortment of bullet-point notes about it!

The premise: 15.06-adjacent alternate canon fic! Jack kills Chuck before they even know he's been resurrected, and his influence on the world--and on Dean in particular--lifts away. Dean leaves, fearing that Cas won't feel comfortable coming back to the bunker to see Jack if he's still there, and also because he feels the need to be on his own for a while as he figures out who he is without Chuck pulling his strings. He goes no-contact, and ends up working on Jesse & Cesar's ranch, where he eventually realizes that he's gay, and that Chuck's manipulations ran even deeper than he'd thought.

Yeah, that's right -- it's a gay!Dean fic, which I've wanted to write for a while. It's been a really compelling concept to explore, considering everything else I've written has been bi!Dean, and once I started thinking about it from the Chuck-manipulation angle I knew I had to write it.

The title is a lyric from The Maker Makes by Rufus Wainwright, which I didn't realize was written specifically for Brokeback Mountain until right now when I went to find a youtube link.

It's a rare fic for me in that Dean legitimately doesn't already know that he's in love with Cas. He's felt it for a long time, but Chuck has been fucking with him so intensely that it's very much been an allegory of the cave situation. He's been looking at the shadows of his love, but now that the chains are gone, he can look at it directly.

Dean stays on Jesse & Cesar's ranch for several months overall, and when he eventually reaches out to Cas it sets off a long period of writing emails to one another, then texting, then calling. The epistolary section of the fic is HEAVY on the pining and it's been a lot of fun to write.

This fic also features a favorite trope of mine: namely that Dean looks at Cas in his ill-fitting suit and dumpy trenchcoat and sees an absolute brick house stud, while the person he's just been gushing about him to looks and sees Just Some Guy.

Dean! Befriends! A horse!

There's also a subplot with a radio show, but I'll save further details on that for when I eventually post it.

I hope this was at least somewhat interesting! Thanks for the ask <3

If anyone wants to know more about this fic, or another WIP, or something I've posted on Ao3, feel free to send an ask :)

[hyperions-light]

Another entry in the saga of ‘I only post about Leth in the middle of the night’ lol

thinking about

Leth/lucanis (Lethcanis, if you will lol)

And how like

I have a Leth playlist on Spotify for when I write with them

And sunlight by Hozier hmmm… that’s them

Like… the reason they call him “dawn after endless night” is like

He is the better life they didn’t know was possible

They saved him from metaphorically drowning, from darkness; he saved them from a night they didn’t know they were living in

(Something something allegory of the cave, shadows of reality and life)

They save each other — they’re like mirrors

I tried in language of reverence, where possible, to have sentences about them mirror each other structurally

They speed the motion of their hips— they can tell, by the way he's breathing, that he'll finish soon; and they can feel the electric tingling in their core— the pleasure that precedes the crest.

And I was talking to uchidachi about how like

They see each other more clearly than they see themselves

Leth solves Lucanis’ problems, where they cannot solve their own

And so like

No spoilers for the upcoming long fic lol

But he is the way out of their problems, too

[nikolai-alexi]

@jegulus-microfic

12 June 2023 Micro-fic

Prompt: warmth

Tags: angst, subjective allegory, no dialogue, references to self harm and child abuse but nothing graphic, sort of toxic past bartylus but it’s not their fault, not sure if you can read this as romantically involved Jegulus but it’s not platonic either, I’m quite literally completely unable to write anything under a thousand words I’m so sorry

WC: 1300 words, average read time 17 minutes

Regulus was always cold. It didn’t matter what season it was, what he was wearing, or how many blankets he was under, he was always, always cold. He wondered if it was a byproduct of living in that godforsaken house for too long. Sometimes, when his mind wasn’t working the way it should and he gave into the temptation to look at Sirius, he would see Sirius burrowed in his friends’ embraces. Like maybe Sirius was just as cold as he was.

For a long time, the closest he came to warmth was Barty. But Barty wasn’t warmth, not really. Barty was flame. Scorching, dangerous, burning, and uncaring of the damage left behind. And Regulus was like a moth. He let himself get pulled over Barty’s edges again and again, each time hoping he may get to soak the warmth up from the coals at the end. Barty left him burned and scarred every time, and Regulus left him snuffed and drenched in return. They both knew they’d kill each other one day, but it didn’t matter. They were both toxic people at their cores. They would poison themselves until one of them dropped dead and the other would follow shortly behind. A sick, twisted, crude facsimile of a phenomenon that neither of them knew but desperately craved.

James isn’t sure when he started noticing Regulus’s eyes on them, but now that he’d noticed, he’s hyper aware of his gaze. At first, he’d thought his gaze was bitter and angry and directed only at Sirius. And, it was, kind of. The farther into the term they got, the more Regulus seemed to lose the battle in himself and the more his eyes would land on their group.

He never seemed to realise he was being watched in return.

James watched Regulus closely and at some point, he realised that the anger and bitterness in his eyes wasn’t actually directed at Sirius like he had thought. Regulus was jealous. His eyes burned with it, desperate, longing stares that shuddered with a kind of sadness that left James with chills along his spine. The longer he watched Regulus, the more he saw. The way his hands never stopped shaking, the way his chapped lips always looked like they were a hair shy of blue, how he always wore long sleeves and jackets no matter the season, and how he caved in on himself, like if he scrunched down into himself far enough, he might find the barest hint of warmth. James isn’t sure when he starts flicking warming charms at the younger boy, but when his tense face smooths out for just a moment every time they hit him, James knew he wouldn’t stop.

He never finds out how Sirius finds Regulus that cold, stormy, December night. All he knows is one minute they’re sitting around the fire in the lounge, and the next, Sirius goes rigid beside him. James doesn’t manage to get a word out before Sirius is gone. He comes back hours later with a half dead, drenched Regulus who’s bleeding from Merlin only knows where and shivering so hard he keeps biting his own tongue. He’s drawn to Regulus with an urgency he’s never felt before, and the fact that he’s not at all a healer doesn’t occur to him. He’s been treating Regulus for years, hasn’t he?

He tries not to let his eyes linger on the countless, brutal scars that line the hidden planes of Regulus’ body as he strips him from the soaked robes he wears, but if the sound of his heart breaking over and over is anything to go by, he’s not successful. He’d be able to recognise Walburga Black’s handy lacero work in his sleep, or the deep wounds left from Orion’s rage, and it doesn’t take him long to discover Regulus’ own work across his left forearm. This body holds the remains of so many different people’s violence. James wonders if it holds a person at all.

He stays with Regulus through his nightmares. Speaks softly to him when he wakes screaming and staring into nothingness with haunted eyes that should never live in the body of an eighteen year old. The words don’t seem to help much, James doubts he even hears them, but the warming charms do. He casts them on the blankets piled atop Regulus, he casts them on the sofa he lies on, he casts them on the much too large borrowed clothes Regulus has on. Anywhere Regulus touches, James funnels warmth into it. Anything to keep Regulus from shivering into tens of millions of tiny pieces right before his eyes.

Regulus will never talk about what happened that dreadful December night all those years ago. He will never speak of what he saw or what he did or what happened to him, but James doesn’t need him to. He knows enough to form his own ideas, and he knows enough to know that when Regulus’ eyes go glassy and void, that warming charms, hot tea, and a warm muffin will bring him back to the present. He knows Regulus will burrow into his side, as though he wishes he could crawl inside James’ rib cage and even then it might not be enough, and James will wrap his arms around him, holding him close for as long as he needs. Never tightly, Regulus fears being trapped more than he fears being touched, but firmly enough that Regulus knows he is held together, kept whole. Regulus will shove his feet under James’ leg, and even through his trousers he can feel how cold they are. He won’t complain, ever, about Regulus’ cold, he just bundles him up, encases him in the warmth James can provide, and soothes the cracks and aches and edges as much he can.

Regulus accepted long ago that he is a weak, weak man. He knew the second he recognised the source of the warming charms he’d been hit with back in school that he would become an addict. James’ warmth is intoxicating. He gives it so freely, completely surrounds Regulus with it, and never tries to take it away. Regulus is a weak, selfish man, and he can’t bring himself to care that he must scald James’ sweet, rich skin with his frigid cold. He can’t bring himself to care when James wraps his arms around him and bleeds his warmth directly into Regulus’ very soul. He feels alive for the first time ever while he’s surrounded by the feeling of James’ heart beating against his back, the smell of a blueberry muffin in front of him, a book he’s not even really reading open in his lap, piping hot tea cradled in his hands, and the hum of a familiar warming charm pulsing around them. He understands what is different between Barty’s flame and James’ warmth now. Barty and Regulus only had one language they could speak. Violence was how they understood each other. James, though? James knew love. He knew kindness. He knew gentle. Years down the line, James is still teaching Regulus new words in this foreign language with the same amount of patience he had when he started. Barty was fire. James is sun. Both similar to each other, both with the capability of destroying Regulus, but only one with the ability to put him back together.

He may never understand how to love another person, but James has enough warmth for the both of them. Perhaps, one day, he may even stop shivering.

[intermundia]

Hi! I saw ur post about your birthday, so first off, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Second, thank you so much for sharing your fics - they are genuinely so damn spectacular! I can’t really pick a favourite so in lieu of that I’m just going to rant about some favourable mentions :)

I’m a huge philosophy nerd, so your Symposium fic is the chefs kiss of fanfic and academia! I’ve reread it so many times now and, each time, I find another platonic element or link to the philosophy, and I basically scream with joy. Also mixing the Jedi with Plato’s philosophy is such an interesting and well-fitting mix! Like the realm of forms parallel to the force, obikin and the ladder of love parallel to their relationship, and obv the master apprentice dynamic so central to the symposium. Even the cave allegory in one way, like, once they start talking about love, obi wan can’t unhear it - he can’t go back from the light, in that regard. It’s so amazing to read a fic and keep on finding new things to love; reading it just brightens my day, and because I can’t send you an exorbitant number of kudos on ao3, please let this stand in their place <3<3<3

and don’t get me started on lex talionis! It’s such a gripping narrative!!! Like, for the first half/three quarters, there’s this slow decline in everyone’s mental state, relationships, and in general wellbeing. And it felt like I wanted to climb the walls, almost shouting at my screen, because if they would just TALK or THINK, but it’s like a tragedy because the CANT or at least as they are at the beginning they can’t, and that was so wonderful to read. A huge part of that was that I was already invested in the characters, so the stakes were raised from the get-go, but also it was the way you mirrored the drama of canon’s breakdown, and you managed to do that on a completely different playing field. And THEN you made them CHANGE!!! And it felt plausible! It felt in character! And all the hope and joy that they lost was returned, but it wasn’t the same, and that was okay!!! And to me, it felt like that decline and rise mirrored the way you integrated Roman history (I could very well be wrong lol); fall of the republic, rise of the Augustan empire - things are irrevocably changed, but they’re still standing! They’re alive! It’s so deeply moving and emotional, I can’t even articulate it as well as I’d like! Also, I was wondering, in LT, did u base any particular characters’ arcs on actually folks from Roman history? And what would you say is your favourite ancient person in general? It’s so interesting to see how ur Classics background informs your writing. In the most complementary way I can say it, it’s giving off ancient history Tolkien vibes, which is genuinely so inspiring to me as someone who wants to find their own writing niche

thank you so much for your writing, and I hope your next year ‘round the sun is filled with joy 🥳🥳🥳

yesss augustus was definitely a central inspiration for me for my fall of the republic story!! just as i think he was for lucas, with his ascension to supreme executive power and institution of an empire, the way he participated in and then brought a devastating period of civil war to a close, offering up long desired peace and security under his autocratic rule. he's a popular leader whose figure looms large as an example still after thousands of years. i wanted obi-wan to 'win' in the same way he did, usurping palpatine's claim to being that leader who took advantage of chaos to seize power.

i just think obi-wan would be such a devastating sith lord, brilliant and charismatic, who could outplay sidious at his own game, very much in the tradition of augustus's strategic decisions. obi-wan lies to himself about it, but his corruption is to always seek ever expanding circles of control. anakin and the clones have strong personal loyalty to him, echoing the loyal legions in civil war that swept octavian into power. padmé has shades of cicero and other republic figures who lost out and were removed from public life (i let her keep her life though ofc).

basically the whole political aspect was modeled on the fall of the roman republic haha you got that exactly right. i'm just so thrilled that you've engaged with the classical influences that i both consciously and unconsciously include in my stories. that's such an unbelievably kind analogy with tolkien, thank you!! there are just so many greek and roman figures that have fascinated and compelled me: homer and hesiod of course, pythagoras and heraclitus among other presocratics, aristotle's virtue ethics, and the moral philosophers of rome like epictetus and marcus aurelius are very dear to my heart.

other favorites are thucydides and herodotus, euripides and aescylus. pericles and alcibiades are fascinating figures. in terms of rome, cicero and catiline, catullus and horace, lucretius and seneca, virgil and ovid, tacitus and plutarch. the lives of antony and cleopatra especially are fascinating. so is alexander ofc, but i spent most of my time on archaic greece not the hellenistic period. i could keep going saljkdlkfdjsa but i will stop, thank you for the excuse to geek out!!!! it's always fun to think about, so i invent as many excuses to do so as possible haha