#i hope its accurate if its not ill make edits

[autogeneratedkahootnickname]

Ok stuff's been happening in the world of UK politics and I need to share it with you before I scream.

So first, some important context. Way back in the 1920s when Ireland left the UK, the province of Ulster, by this point predominantly Protestant, remained, splitting from the rest of the nation. However, as is always the case with partition, it wasn't a clean break: people got stuck on sides of the border they weren't necessarily happy with, and over time, historical political and cultural divides were exacerbated by a new concrete separation that culminated in the Troubles, a period of violence in NI between the 1970s and the 1990s as radical nationalists (the IRA) clashed with the UK military over control of the region. This was largely ended in 1998 by the Good Friday Agreement, tearing down the hard border across Ireland and facilitating free movement of goods and people. In order to preserve the peace, a power sharing mechanism was implemented in Stormont (NI's assembly) whereby the government had to consist of two equal and codependent parties. The first minister was from the party who won the elections, the deputy minister was from the opposition, etc. This system worked well enough at suppressing Unionist/Nationalist tensions for about 20 years and was considered one of the greatest diplomatic achievements of British and Irish history.

Flash forward to 2016, and the UK votes to leave the EU. Overall. Within the nations, it's a different story, and while Scotland's desire to remain gets most of the press, Northern Ireland also voted disproportionately to remain. And as the Conservatives would discover, they kind of had to.

Because you see, a big part of the reason why the Good Friday Agreement worked is because both parties were EU members, so they were already part of the Single Market, meaning free movement of goods and services wasn't an issue since it was already European policy. Now Britain wants to leave the Single Market, we have an issue.

If you were looking at memes around 2017, you'll be familiar with the term 'Hard Brexit'. What that means is the UK is fully cut out of all the various levels of EU membership: the free trade, the external tariffs and, most importantly, the regulatory framework of the Single Market that allows goods to be easily traded across borders. As you may also know, the EU takes regulation very seriously, so ensuring imports are up to code is a lengthy and time-intensive process. If Britain wants a Hard Brexit, and they're cut out of the Single Market, there has to be a point where goods being traded in and out of countries still in the framework are checked. Say, for instance, in Ireland.

One problem: this entails a hard border. Not for people, perhaps, but for products, and people need products to make a living. On top of that as well, Northern Ireland would be cut out of the free trade area and potentially face massive import duties, massively increasing costs and threatening demand. Even on a symbolic level, its a firm dividing line across Ireland. And the Good Friday Agreement is very clear about the No Borders thing because Look What Happened The Last Time There Was A Border. If the Conservatives try and surround the UK with a hard customs border, Northern Ireland will fall.

But the alternative is either not having a Hard Brexit, the entire point of their manifesto, which would be political suicide, or leaving Northern Ireland behind basically in the EU, creating a border not across Ireland but across the UK. And if that happens, Northern Ireland will fall because of the radical unionists.

(Alternatively the solution was 'No Brexit in the first place' but too late for that now ig.)

David Cameron resigns before having to sort this out. Theresa May spends her entire premiership trying to sort this out while part of a coalition with the DUP (the leading Unionist party, at this point the largest party in Stormont and basically NI's Tories) and she can't, forcing her resignation. Then Boris Johnson comes along and finds a 'temporary' solution to get the paperwork signed: put the border between Great Britain and Norther Ireland, keeping Good Friday intact, until they can find a better way. Until then, Northern Ireland abides by EU trade regulation and future amendments: the Northern Ireland Protocol. And they wait. And they wait. And they don't.

As this shitshow is going down, Northern Ireland is getting increasingly tired of Westminster's routine (and the DUP's dumpster fire coalition attempt) and pivots towards new kid on the block, the party of compromise, Alliance. The Nationalists, led by Sinn Fein, lose votes through this too, but to a far lesser degree. DUP loses 10% of the vote share in the 2017 election, putting them and Sinn Fein neck and neck.

And in 2022, for the first time, Sinn Fein wins Stormont. The nationalists are in power in Northern Ireland. Or rather, they're half in power.

Because as we established, Northern Ireland has a power sharing system. And the DUP have boycotted Stormont. They aren't happy with the potential of being pulled away from the UK, so they decide if they can't have NI, no-one can. By refusing to participate in the coalition government, the Sinn Fein half is prohibited from governing alone, forcing the government into shutdown.

That shutdown has lasted for a year.

This happened around the time Boris Johnson started sinking over Partygate, followed by whatever the fuck happened with Truss, so NI got overshadowed in the news cycle but over the course of 2022, order has been breaking down in Northern Ireland as radical unionists begin to stir trouble. Indeed, it looks like Northern Ireland is heading straight back to the Troubles, and no-one seems to want to do anything to fix it. In fact, the Conservatives seem to want to declare war with the EU through a proposed override of the Protocol, dismantling decades of diplomatic hard work and plunging the continent into anarchy.

In October, Rishi Sunak is 'elected' Prime Minister, and he sets out to solve the Northern Irish issue. For all her many faults, Truss was pretty cordial with Europe, and Sunak continued that trend well into his premiership. Combined with the looming threat of Russia over European stability, the EU is in a compromising mood, and agrees to help work out a new system that tears down the border between the UK and Ireland. The plan is: separate goods going to Northern Ireland and goods going to the EU. Why it took them 7 years to sort that out I don't know but huzzah, a solution. But on top of this, they also implement the Stormont Brake: whereas before, EU law applies automatically in Northern Ireland, Stormont can veto proposed amendments from applying in Northern Ireland if they're too radical. This is a hugely generous concession by the EU since this is a major compromise on a lot of their core principles, since Northern Ireland is now part of the Single Market but theoretically exempt from following it, and by extension a huge win for Rishi Sunak. While the DUP have lost all credibility, this will hopefully be enough to get them back into Stormont. This new arrangement is called the Windsor Framework, and buries the final major hatchet in the Brexit divorce proceedings.

OK, LENGTHY context complete, lets discuss what's happened. Because turns out, there's opposition to this new framework.

Who from?

WHY ITS BORIS JOHNSON AND THE CHUCKLEFUCKS.

Basically, leading members of the Johnsonian and Trussian governments (including both PMs) explicitly said they wouldn't support the deal. They don't have an alternative. A plan. Anything. They just won't support it.

Joining them is, you guessed it, THE FUCKING DUP. No matter what happens, they're refusing to go back to Stormont. Just to spite their rivals.

Some more important context, the Conservatives are on the verge of self destructing since vast swathes of the party believe Johnson is a martyr and Sunak is not the True King, so getting the Conservatives to vote together is a massive challenge. If this vote passes, it'll give the Tories a lifeline to the next election, possibly their one positive achievement since 2016 outside of 'not actively backing Putin'. If it fails, the Conservatives are history. Making matters worse in the best way, Keir Starmer pledges Labour's plurality in support of Windsor, saying, to paraphrase, 'if you fucks can't get it together we'll do it for you.' Iconic. By doing so, Labour guarantee the vote passes unless the entire Conservative party rips itself in twain, but potentially force the PM to rely on the OPPOSITION over his OWN PARTY to pass groundbreaking legislation, which is almost worse for Sunak than the bill failing.

The vote took place today and the Conservatives, despite a massive rebellion, barely managed to vote in favour on their own majority alone. Barely. We're talking single digits. Two dozen Tory MPs rebelled, and 3 dozen more abstained. With no alternative. They would rather have chaos in Northern Ireland than be forced to work with the EU when the EU is bending over backwards to make this happen.

Today is a positive for the UK's future, but it reaffirms that the Conservatives need to go now more than ever.

[ravennory]

another tagg deyna doodle ^_^

[angel-sweets666]

stuck together

Barbarian bakugo x princess! Reader

Your parents arranged you to the brash and rude prince of the barbarians to save their own skin. CHAPTER TWO HERE

warnings and stuff inside of the story: talks of virginity, talks of a virginity check (its accurate to the time period ok?) a/n should I make this a series? I think it’d be fun but idk ur rich btw so just like there’s rich stuff.

THE FULL VERSION IS OUTTT, truely ask and you shall receive. Anyways this is the full edited and lengthened part one I hope it’s better then the sneak peak I gave you guys

AGED UP

Mitsuki leaned back, her piercing gaze fixed on your parents. "So, what do you say? You give us your daughter, and we'll form an alliance," she proposed, pausing for their response. "It would offer protection from the Todoroki kingdom Flamoria, no?" The blonde woman smiled at your father, trying to sway him.

Flamoria had a habit of attacking your home kingdom, however in recent years the bakugos have managed to not only defeat the todorokis but make their kingdom subservient to them.

Your mother hesitated. "I mean, I dunno…"

"We'll do it," he interrupted, cutting off your mother.

"Huh?!" Your mother turned to him, shock evident on her face.

"Perfect. Sign here," Mitsuki said smoothly, handing them a piece of paper which already had both mitsuki and masarus names written down. It was a betrothal agreement, arranging the marriage between you and her hot-tempered son, Bakugo.

Your father reached for the pen, the gravity of the situation pressing down on him. "This will secure our safety and ensure a powerful ally," he murmured, almost convincing himself as much as anyone else.

"But our daughter…" your mother started, her voice filled with concern and disbelief. She looked at Mitsuki, then back at your father, torn between the political necessity and the love for her child.

"We don't have a choice," your father replied firmly, signing the paper. "This alliance is crucial for our kingdom's survival. The Empyrean empire is strong.”

Mitsuki's smile widened as she took the signed document. "Excellent. You won't regret this. Bakugo will make a fine husband, many heirs will come from this, she is a virgin right?” The blonde asks “we can get her checked for it, *name* was very sheltered growing up so we can assure you she’s a virgin.” Your father explains, leaning back in his own squeaky wooden chair. His gaze turns to your mother, who seems distraught about marrying off her child to the barbarian prince. Someone famous for being a violent person.

at 17 years old bakugo had brought back the head of a powerful tribe leader and put it on a stick for everyone to see, at 18 years old he had gathered a small army of men and defeated the midoriya kingdom and had a bloody cloak from the one of the dead soilders to prove it. Then at 20 years old bakugo had forced izuku, the Feywood king to surrender his crown. Which put feywood in the empyrean empire. No one knows where izuku midoriya currently is, all the people know is that he was last scene getting dragged by his green locks by bakugo and was never seen again.

Later on

“YOU ARRANGED ME TO WHO!?” You screamed, staring at your parents in complete horror. How could they do this to you? You make one wrong move and your own husband would order your death! “Look it’s not so bad..” “NOT SO BAD? HES KILLED HUNDREDS! THOUSANDS EVEN” “He won’t kill you though!” Your father exclaimed, An attempt to calm you. “Look, bakugo may seem like a man killing war machine of a prince but his parents assured us that he’s very gentle with women.” You scoffed, leaning your weight to one hip “bullshit. He’s gonna kill me. Brutally, he’s gonna hack off my head just you watch”

Over the next few weeks, you tried everything to call off the arrangement. You attempted to run away before the virginity check, faked illness, and came up elaborate excuses. Nothing seemed to work. Your parents were stubborn, insisting that you marry Katsuki Bakugo for the strength of their own kingdom.

Lying in bed, you tossed and turned, unable to escape the looming dread of marrying the great, scary barbarian prince, soon to be barbarian king. What if he rips your head off just because you refuse to give him a kiss? The thought made your heart race with fear.

Suddenly, a knock on the door snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. A maid entered, her eyes gloomy with pity . "Your Highness? Tomorrow we will wake you early to help you begin packing for the travel to the Empyrean Kingdom," she said softly, her voice trembling as she tried to avoid any kind of trouble.

You groaned and turned your head toward her. "When am I being sent to them?" you asked

"U-uh, most likely the day after tomorrow," the maid stammered, clearly uneasy with your distress.

You sighed deeply, feeling the weight of your impending fate settle even heavier on your shoulders. "I see… thank you," you muttered.

You looked back at the red headed maid “How far is the journey?” You asked her softly, she fidgeted with her fingers “a-about two days, they live f-far from our kingdom your highness” she stammered. You smiled to the red head and dismissed her.

As she left you stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. The thought of being married off to someone you had never met, someone with a terrifying reputation, filled you with a sense of dread and hopelessness. Your parents decision felt like a betrayal, a sacrifice of your happiness for the supposed greater good of the kingdom

You stood in the corner of your large room, watching as numerous servants took gowns, corsets, shoes, and other clothing items, placing them into bags. "U-uh, don’t barbarians wear less formal clothes? Shouldn’t I bring less?" you asked the maids. All of them turned to look at you, a hint of surprise on their faces.

"Her Highness makes a point," the same red-headed maid from the night before whispered to an older maid. The older maid, seemingly more experienced, turned toward you with a thoughtful expression.

"You're right, Your Royal Highness. They would probably end up burning these clothes or turning them into barbarian-styled garments," she conceded.

You sighed, your shoulders dropping in resignation. "What do barbarian women wear?" you asked the older maid, hoping for some clarity.

"Hm… flowy skirts, I’ve seen a few wear headdresses," she replied, as some of the gowns were hung back up in the closet. The maids began to sift through your belongings, selecting items that might be more appropriate for your new life.

As you watched the process, you couldn’t help but glance out the window. Your mother and father were walking in the garden, deep in conversation. They seemed so in love, so perfectly matched, yet they were throwing you into a marriage that promised nothing but misery. The contrast between their happiness and your dread was almost unbearable.

"Your Highness, we’ll pack lighter, more practical clothing for your journey," the older maid reassured.

"Thank you," you murmured, though your heart wasn't in it. The thought of being dressed in unfamiliar clothes, adapting to an unknown culture, and being wed to a man you feared only added to your anxiety.

As the servants continued their work, you wandered over to your bed, sinking down onto the edge. The weight of your impending departure pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. You had grown up surrounded by luxury and love, and now you were being sent away, to marry probably the most violent man you’ve ever heard of

Tears welled up in your eyes as you thought about the future that awaited you. Would you ever find happiness in the Empyrean Kingdom? Would Katsuki Bakugo, the fierce and terrifying prince, ever come to care for you, or would you be nothing more than a means to an end?

"Your Highness, is there anything else you would like us to pack?" one of the younger maids asked, her voice gentle.

You shook your head, wiping away a stray tear. "No, just… make sure to leave out a few comfortable things for me to wear until we leave."

"Of course, Your Highness," she replied, her expression sympathetic.

As the maids continued their preparations, you lay back on your bed, staring up at the white ceiling. You tried to find comfort in the familiar surroundings, knowing that soon you would be leaving them behind.

"So, what's the barbarian kingdom like?" you asked, looking over to the maids. The older maid once again turned her head to look at you.

"Most of the people live in either big wooden houses with all sorts of weapons around or in these hut-like tent things. Either way, they have all these symbols painted on them," she described, clearly having been to the Empyrean Kingdom before.

"And what about the Bakugos? Where do they live? You asked

"They live in a stone castle with intricate paintings on it, and there's a lot of security. The last time I was there, they had spikes on the bridge leading to the castle, with people's heads mounted on them," the old maid replied,

"How long ago were you there?" you asked, feeling a chill run down your spine at the gruesome detail.

"When the young prince was about fifteen, so around five years ago," she said, placing one last corset into a bag.

You glanced at the six bags of items packed for your journey, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation. It was a smaller amount than you had anticipated, yet it seemed to signify the end of one life and the beginning of another.

"Did you meet the prince?" you asked, trying to glean any information that might help you understand the man you were to marry.

"Briefly," she replied, her expression softening. "He was intense, even as a teenager. Always training, always pushing himself. But there was a sadness in his eyes, a loneliness."

You sighed, trying to reconcile the image of the fierce, terrifying prince with the glimpses of vulnerability the maid described. "And the people there? How are they?"

"Fierce, proud, and loyal," the older maid said. "They value strength above all else, but they also have a deep sense of honor and community. If you earn their respect, they'll defend you with their lives."

The more you learned, the more daunting your future seemed. Yet, there was a strange comfort in knowing that the barbarian kingdom, despite its harsh exterior, had its own codes and values.

As the maids continued their work, you tried to imagine what life in the Empyrean Kingdom would be like

"Is there anything else I should know?" you asked, your voice softer, almost hesitant.

The older maid paused, considering your question. "Just remember, Your Highness, that if you respect them and they’ll respect you."

Her words resonated with you, giving you a small but vital sense of empowerment. You nodded “alright, seems easy enough..”

The day that you needed to travel to the empyrean kingdom came, your parents watched you walk to the carriage by the gate as your mother sobbed into your fathers chest.

The ride to the Empyrean Kingdom was grueling. As the carriage rattled over uneven roads, you gazed out the window, the lush greenery of your homeland gradually giving way to the rugged, bushy but covered in tall trees landscape of the barbarian territory. The closer you got, the more your anxiety grew, each kilometre bringing you closer to the empyrean land

When you finally arrived at the castle, you were struck by its threatening look. The stone walls were decorated with weird red painted symbols, and the spiked bridge, as described by the maid, loomed menacingly ahead. Your heart pounded as you stepped out of the carriage, taking in the harsh surroundings.

A group of stern-faced and very attractive guards escorted you inside. The castle's interior was as intimidating as its exterior—dimly lit, with weapons and trophies of past battles displayed prominently on the walls. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you were led through the cold halls. You swore that if you listened close enough you could hear peoples screams in the dungeons below. Fuck was this hell with its 7 rings?

Finally, you were brought to a large chamber where a tall, muscular figure stood with his back to you. His spiky blonde hair was unmistakable. He was busy looking at a sheet of paper, the one oddly similar to the ones your parents shown you when they first announced your betrothal to bakugo. As he slowly turned to face you, his piercing red eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you want to look away. He looked almost angry at you, furious even. Which was confusing because you’ve known this man for a whole 10 seconds

he was tall and about 6ft with messy blonde hair, scars all over his body and face, and piercings on his ears and lip.

"So, you're the princess they sent," Katsuki said, his voice dripping with disdain. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, his expression one of barely concealed annoyance. Katsuki had a deep voice that you couldn’t tell if you found attractive or if you wanted to run away and hide.

You straightened your back, meeting his gaze with as much confidence as you could muster. "I am," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady but it ended up sounding shaky.

Bakugo scoffed, looking you up and down as if to check if you were just a weak small baby or strong enough to be a wife and a queen “Great. Another weakling to babysit," he muttered under his breath.

Anger formed within you at his dismissive attitude. "I am not a weakling," you snapped. "And I am certainly not here to be babysat."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "We'll see about that," he said, turning away from you. "Follow me. There's no point in wasting time."

You clenched your fists, biting back a come back to insult him with as you followed him through the castle. Every step echoed in the vast, cold corridors. His steps much louder then yours due to his much larger frame

Bakugo led you to a large hall where a group of people—presumably his advisors and some of the castle staff—were gathered. He introduced you curtly, barely sparing you a glance as he did so. The looks you received ranged from curiosity to outright hostility, they clearly didn’t want you here. Just like the old maid back had home had warned, these people hated the weak.

After the introductions, Bakugo dismissed everyone, including you. "You'll be shown to your chambers. Don't get in my way or else," he said, theblonde clearly trying to end the conversation between you two before he could get sucked into some conversation he didn’t waht

You followed a servant to your chambers, a mix of anger and sadness within you. The room was surprisingly comfortable, a stark contrast to the rest of the castle, but it did little to lift your spirits. You sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of your new reality settle over you.

Over the next few days, you tried to find your place in the castle. The people were distant and wary, their lack of trust clear in their every interaction with you. And Bakugo… he was even worse than most . He ignored you most of the time, and when he did speak to you, it was with a cold, dismissive tone that made your blood boil. He always had a tone of sass, trying to get under your skin constantly.

as the days grew closer and closer to your wedding date he seemed to just get more and more annoying, constantly having some tone of sass. Never wanting to talk to you and constantly flirting with your maids, you even went the effort to fire atleast 4 of them to keep their grotty hands to themselves.

“you done firing my staff now?” Bakugo grumbled as he caught up with you in the stone candle lit halls “your staff? You mean my staff? My staff who you seem to love flirting with” you corrected him, looking over your shoulder at him. The blonde furrowed his eyebrows and scoffed “I pay for them there for their my staff.” He growled, asking faster in an attempt to intimate you “actually, your parents pay for the staff.” “Hah?” “Your parent pay for the staff so their not your staff, their the palaces staff.” You said ignorantly as you played with the lace of your dress. “You gonna get out of that frill fest you call a gown?” He asked, again trying to insult you “if I do I’m gonna shove it up your ass” “excuse me?”

“Want me to say it slower? I—WILL—SHOVE—MY—GOW”

“OKAY OKAY SHUT UP WOMAN” he growled at you and walked off in spite “THATS WHAT WHAT I THOUGHT. THATS WHAT I THOUGHT.” You angrily yelled back to him, which in real aspect you were yelling at the back of his ignorant head. You huffed and stormed away in the opposite direction as you wanted nothing more then to get away from that man. As you stomped down the halls, footsteps echoing with each step; you heard a male voice call out to you

“Princess.”

you looked over, a certain brown haired man similar looking to katsuki stared back at you. It was king Masaru “I was looking for you” he says, walking towards you. You quickly curtsied to the king “About what?” You asked “we have a wedding date for you and my son” he smiled warmly as if this was a good thing “o-oh.. and when may that be..?” Your eyebrows furrowed with frustration “a month from now, they will date you to get your gown fitted this week” he seemed overly happy about something neither you or his temperamental son wanted.

“Will I wear a wedding dress from my country or your country?” You asked softly, trying to keep your cool “uh.. our country.” He informed you “I’d rather wear my own wedding gown though, your majesty” “well.. you belong to our kingdom now. We can give you a dress that’s a mix of the two if you’d rather” he compromised, trying to keep with both your and his kingdom. Letting out a sigh your shoulders dropped “I suppose that be okay…” a look of mild disappointment on your face “wonderful, I’m glad we could come to a compromise” he smiled and walked off, an electric blonde guard following close behind him who you earlier learned his name was kaminari. The blonde goofily smiled to you, he seemed like a character. The two men walked off as they chatted, rolling your eyes you too began to walk in the direction of your bedroom chambers.

you couldn’t sleep that night, you tried changing your nightgown, exercising, reading a book, meditating, everything! nothing would help you sleep this night, you wondered if it was the weird interaction with king Masaru or the fact your own fiance was when you think about it was cheating on you with your own staff members. you slowly slid out of bed and out of your silk sheets, rubbing your face up and down with your hands with frustration. Looking down at your feet you sighed, looking out of the window. the night sky was so peaceful unlike your mind which was running with less the pleasant thoughts. How could you get Katsuki to like you? or at least tolerate you in some way so he wouldn't be the most annoying little shit.

The creak of the door hinges squeaks as you pushed the heavy wooden door open, wincing at the high pitch noise. Slowly but quietly gou walked towards the chambers of your future husband. As you approached the door you hear two voices come from the inside

“you’ll need to learn to cherish and care for her eventually”

“why would I do that?” “She is your fiancé! Your future wife! Future mother of your heirs!”

“you except me to fuck her too? Shit.”

“Yes obviously! Your gonna need heirs for our kingdom!”

“fine. Before or after this whole wedding?”

“well In her kingdom, you two do that on the wedding night but to be honest I don’t really care when you do her”

“Too easy”

safe to say your whole face was pink, with either anger or arousal but you couldn’t tell

Tag list!

@sagejin @teeesthings @hiimsaraandyou

@peachysuguru @luvgumii

@v3n7s @iangeeluv

[istherewifiinhell]

okay. heres what were all here for. tell me why the fuck im supposed to suck the dick of these uk comics

[ID: A man holding up an aged looking paper, with a medieval style drawing of a giant metal fire breathing man. He leans forward serious asking his son "... Did it look like this?" END]

marveltf story line, MAN OF IRON, 9-12 in the UK, or.... 33-34 in the us. alright lol do whatever i guess. first published in 1985

new vibe same procedure: Script: Steve Parkouse art: John Ridgeway (9-10) Mike Collins (11-12) Colours: Joise Fermin (9-10) Gina Hart (11-12) Nel Yomtov (US)* Letters: Richard Starkings Editor: Sheila Cranna and these caps are from the UK classics idw book so: Original Series Edits by Shelia Cranna and Ian Rimmer, editorial notes and assistance by James Roberts, Collection Edits by Justin Eisinger and Alonzo Simon, Collection Design by Shawn Lee (<- hey i know his work from turtles!)

*so the uk comics were part in colour and part B&W, to save costs... including the american reissues? printing costs i guess. but when reprinted in collected books, they would get the full colour treatment. whats not clear to me is WHO did those colours, its not listed anywhere i can find. ill simply have to assume its the same artists... and hope im not discrediting anyone....

AND ALSO the last page in this reprint apparently uses the US comic page, and i have a cap of that last page, so. Yomtov's in here too..... tf franchise the way u treat ur sacred texts breaks my turtles fan heart.

and lastly! the keen eyed may notice, we are back to toy accurate art, the character model designs haven't and wont make their way over until much later, I'm told.

well with all that perfectly convoluted business out of the way, lets explore what tfs is like across the pond.

[ID: The same man, Roy, driving as he thinks to himself "What kind of bozo would want to bomb the castle? The Saxon Liberation Front? The mind boggles…" END]

[spluttering laugh] so the humours a little different!

[ID: The boy, Sammy, climbing a tree, hand outstretched reaching for the arrow he lost. Standing, with his in the canopy is Jazz. Sammy yells in fear. END]

OKAY. so the vibes are little different

[ID: Caption Box: And the apparition was fearful, being a Man of Iron of great height and girth, seeming unheedful of quarrel, spear or sword…" The robot from the illustration, clearly transformer, but blockier, more retro scifi, standing in the middle of a medieval battle, men with chain-mail and swords looking at him with trepidation. Caption Box: The Man of Iron forded the stream at Eldric's Cross, making great strides for the abbey… and some brave souls followed, though none dared come too close…" Two of the fighters shown following him, a body shot with an arrow lays at the other side of the river. END]

damn okay. so the vibes are ALOT DIFFERENT

(no 10) sammy dreams

[ID: Sammy stands on a house rooftop, in his PJ's, looking down at the cobble street, where a seeker in alt mode rests. END]

[ID: Dark and moody art, a barely seen figure towers in the shadows over the residential houses. From a higher angle, its shown to be Mirage, he stands taking up the entire street, backlit and casting shadows. END]

WHAT THE FUCK. that is terrifying

(something about beautiful black inked art + toy model makes them so CREATURE)

[ID: Roy speaks to a man in army uniform. Roy: How large? Soldier: Well… ahh…at a rough estimate? About the size of an ocean-going liner. Roy: Whaat? Roy with a hand to his head in dismay: Well, for god's sake what is it? Solider: We don't know. I've called in extra men and we're going to excavate… END]

somethings! buried under the castle... gee well one wonders what it might be

[ID: Close on Jazz's alt mode dashboard, its filled with lights and screen of alien language. Hes saying: But I'm not a stranger, Sammy. Deep down, you know… don't you? You've been wanting an adventure all your life… Besides. I have something to tell you. Sammy looking doubtful. Jazz continues: Something really important. Sammy has a hand on Jazz's open door: Why not just sit for a while in the front seat? Just pretend you're driving… END]

JAZZ THATS KIDNAPPING BUD....

really get a kick outta this note in the printed version

[ID: REMEMBER: NEVER ACCEPT LIFTS FROM STRANGERS! TO BE CONTINUED! END]

(no 11)

[ID: Jazz speaks to Sammy on the road, a blue and white F1 car pulling up. "My name is unpronounceable in your language… so just call me Jazz! And that's Mirage right behind us!" Jazz takes a exit to a low road, a black camper truck driving alongside. "This is where we rendezvous with Trailbreaker. All set Sammy?" All three driving along, Sammy responds "Sure thing Jazz!" END]

[guitar riff] THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN. im so glad all my good friends are here.

[ID: An fiery explosion engulfing Trailbreaker with a "Whaamf!". Wheels coming off, glass shattering, the truck top blowing to bits. Trailbreaker veering off road, a trail of fire and parts behind him calls out "Jazz! I'm hit... I'm hit BAD! END]

TRAILBREAKER NOOOO. who could have seen this coming...

[ID: Jazz narrowing swerving a missile. Exploding behind him, and speedlines trail him, and a wreath in flame around him. The colours are almost delicate, and a reflective glow in his paint. END]

wha. this just looks so cool.... what the hell....

[ID: Bluesteak, smiling speaking to comms "Autobot Bluestreak to patrol leader +++ Just brushed something off your tail, Jazz+++ try to be more careful in future, hmmm? Bluestreak out+" END]

being a cunt in the work slack. king

[ID: Jazz in profile, lit under the starry night sky, soft line-less colours defining the planes of his head in blue greys, and pitch black. To Sammy he says "Not really. It's a shuttlecraft… now stand back…" To comms "Autobot Jazz To Autobot leader+++ Approaching shuttle with Surveillance Subject+++ Request permission to board+++" END]

Wuh. Huh. Jazz u look so fucking cool right now?? And handsome.....

okay whats going on back at the castle (no 12)

[ID: The army soldier half sitting on a desk, holding a phone to his ear, the rotary cradle held resting on his leg. He's saying "IT's not just a question of scale, sir. We simply cannot identify it. END]

whys he kinda... apparently this style of uniform is called temperate barrack dress?? that answers none of my questions im just kinda... whyd u draw him like that tho...

[ID: A seeker, drawn in blues, walking between the ruins of the castle. Off panel someone says "It just seemed to appear from nowhere!" END]

bigfooting it up... AT A CASTLE. oh lads. im done for [blah blah he telePORTS and thats skywarps power but hes blue so WHO is it. dont worry abt it man. dont matter. they apparently change in the various times its been coloured, which is objectively funny imho. keep em guessing]

[ID: Moody and still illustrations of a robot identical to the Man of Iron in stasis, plugged into a bed of sorts. The ship around him is dark but for strips of coloured computer like lights in the walls and floor. Caption boxes narrate: Deep beneath the Autobots feet, in a sealed chamber, a special Autobot lay waiting… He was navigator, warrior and guardian of Autobot destiny… In his long, slow, machine world, a million years were as fleeting seconds. Human history had passed over him. Small inter panels. Mid on the Guardian: Locked in his dormant brain was the location of the planet Cybertron. He waited only to be re-activated, re-integrated with his mission… Restored to life. Close on the Guardian: His attendant was no more, the link between them severed. Laying in profile, just barely defined in the pitch black: Alone in the darkness he patiently beamed his signal. The same pattern of impulses… Waiting. END]

What the actual fuck (its even more somberly dramatic than just that)

[ID: Sammy, from a distance, staring at the castle. Caption Box: Autumn came, leaves fell. Sammy was a year older and a year wiser. He never saw Jazz again… Sammy asleep in bed, moonlight pouring through his paneled window. "But on clear, sharp nights, when stars glittered like needles and the night winds rattled his window… Then he slept a fitful, fearful sleep…" Sammy sleeping, with his dreams projected above him. "And the Man of Iron walked once more through his dreams." The End]

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

um well. okay! thats. fucking crazy. and this is the only tf comic this dude ever did. okay... can u tell he was from the dr who comics...... it ALSO means this doesnt actually speak at all for what the rest of tfuk will be like. which is damn funny. LIKE WOW! THAT WAS CRAZY. anyways.

[icarusignite]

Hey! I don't know if this is the proper format (still kind of new here) but I'm sending in this prompt for an Alfred × Reader fic. There's this idea for him that was stuck in my head a couple months ago. So…

It's set either S2 or S3 but it fits better in S3 or the break between 2 and 3. Alfred is really ill which isn't unusual for him, but this time he's taking a lot longer for him to heal and he's deteriorating more seriously than he normally would.

People in court start looking around for new healers and remedies. Alfred is also kind of desperate because he doesn't want to die before England is complete or Edward is ready to take over.

Reader, who is a healer, comes to court with the intention of helping Alfred. She's neither Dane nor Saxon, if you're comfortable with it she could be of Asian or African origin/descent (eg Father Benedict in S5). She's either Muslim or Christian, either way she's well read and a bit of a scholar (if you've seen Vikings: Valhalla S2, there's a female character that might ring a bell). She's also able to reassure him, like Iseult, that she's treating him with nature's bounty and nothing sinister.

Because she's a scholar (also maybe a Christian), Alfred is comfortable that she's not practicing witchcraft so this helps him accept her more easily. It also helps them bond and they become really close friends over the course of the months she spends treating him. They have fun banter and he's able to feel like Alfred, the man around her instead of King Alfred. Then he realizes that he has feelings for her.

At this point it could go any way really. Does Aelswith factor into it much or not? Does reader reciprocate his feelings or not? If she does, would she be comfortable giving into them and being a mistress? Is Aelswith even in the picture or is this a slight AU? Do they have a sad, happy or bittersweet ending? Idk

For extra spice, Reader could also be good friends with Uhtred or Finan which makes Alfred a little jealous but also sad because he thinks that she'd probably prefer the charming, handsome, potentially single, strapping man to whatever measly affection he could offer her.

Ideally, it would be fluff or smut but whatever you're comfortable writing is fine! Sorry if this is too long but I wanted to be as clear as possible 😅. I also understand if this is too much for a oneshot and you forego the idea entirely

Alfred the great x POC! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: Heyy, so sorry this took literally eons to finally write. Thank you for your lovely request and also thank u for your patience <3 Hope you enjoy what I've done with your idea, and dw this will have another part where I'll explore their chemistry more. I watched a bunch of Alfred edits to get in the mood and ngl I'm lowkey in love with him now lmfao. 

Disclaimer: there might be some (a lot) historical discrepancies because I didn't line up the dates exactly but I did find out that the Golden Age of Islam overlapped significantly with the dates that the last kingdom spans so the reader is a prominent scholar from Baghdad. Also, Aelswith is dead (I'm sorry T_T) cuz I don't love a cheating trope even when it is sort of historically accurate. So we have single dad Alfred lol. 

The only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm alone with you

Entering King Alfred's throne room, your senses were immediately awakened by the unfamiliar sights, sounds, and scents of Wessex. The room itself was a stark contrast to the opulent palaces and grand courts of Baghdad that you were accustomed to. The room was spacious, yet its decoration was surprisingly humble and simple, adorned with rough-hewn wooden beams and modest tapestries that depicted various scenes of English myths and prominent events. With a flash of triumph, you found that you recognized some of them from your studies of the English culture. A faint scent of burning wood from the hearth permeated the air with an earthy aroma.

You observed the nobles in attendance, or the ealdormen as they were called here, their attire markedly different from the splendid silks and jewels of Baghdad's court. Here, the people wore simpler garments made of sturdy wool and linen, in the dark colours of the earth as opposed to the the vibrant clothing the people of your home favoured.

Your gaze then turned to the throne itself. It was a robust wooden chair, its design austere yet imposing, lacking the grandeur of the magnificent thrones you had imagined English kings liked to occupy. King Alfred's regal figure atop the throne created a dignified presence. His clothing, matched the style of his ealdormen, long simple robes of a dull grey. The seat next to him was empty and you briefly wondered about his family. The chronicles you had read stated that a king's wife usually took her place beside him when he held court, but you did not know much of Alfred's wife.

Your fingers itched for your writing instruments, yearning to document all your observations and the happenings of the court. You seldom went anywhere without them, but now they remained tucked away in your satchel as you waited for the king to acknowledge your presence. You knew he had seen you enter, his eyes briefly meeting yours, even as he conversed with his ealdormen. Eventually, your thoughts began to wander and you couldn't help but reflect on the stark contrast between the scorching heat of Baghdad and the chilly bite of autumn in Wessex. your flowing linen tunic and trousers, so comfortable in the sweltering desert of your homeland, felt inadequate against the cold English air that seeped through the cracks in the stone walls.

You discreetly rubbed your tingling fingertips together, trying to generate some warmth, as the fire blazing at the hearth did little to banish the chill that had settled in your bones. Your longing for the warmth of the caliphate's sun was keenly felt in this unfamiliar and frigid environment.

Impatience welled up within you as you glanced around the chamber, noting the courtiers' stoic expressions and hushed conversations. The king's deliberations seemed to stretch on endlessly, and you found yourself yearning for the moment when you could finally present your credentials and seek the audience you had travelled so far to obtain.

King Alfred's voice finally called out your name, his voice echoing through the chamber.

"Esteemed lady, I welcome you to the court of Wessex."

The ealdormen, accustomed to the formalities of their court, were taken aback when you did not bow or curtsy as was expected. Instead, you offered a polite smile and tipped your head in a gesture of respect.

A murmur of surprise and disapproval rippled through the assembled courtiers. Some whispered that your behaviour was disrespectful, a breach of protocol. They exchanged curious glances, wondering how their king would react to this departure from tradition.

However, King Alfred took no offence. With a gracious nod, he signalled for you to speak.

"Thank you, your grace. It is an honour to be here."

Your accent was soft, lending your words a foreign intonation, and each syllable was carefully enunciated. You had spent months learning the language, and you weren't about to embarrass yourself now by messing up your pronunciation.

"I extend my deepest gratitude to you for undertaking such a long and arduous journey at my request. I hope the discomfort of the voyage did not prove too taxing."

"Your Majesty," you replied, "it was a journey of great honour for me, and I hope to make myself useful here."

King Alfred nodded appreciatively and then turned to a servant standing nearby.

"Please, ensure that the lady is provided with comfortable quarters and all the amenities she may require during your stay in Wessex."

The servant bowed in acknowledgment and stepped forward to escort you to your residence within the royal palace. You thanked the king once more for his hospitality and assistance before following the servant out of the chamber.

As you left the throne room, your observant nature couldn't help but take note of King Alfred's condition. Despite his attempt to appear at ease in his chair, you had perceived the subtle signs of discomfort. His favouring of his left side, indicating pain or injury to his right, and the unusually pallid complexion for an Englishman raised concerns in your scholarly mind. That was your purpose, after all, to try to diagnose and hopefully cure the ailing monarch.

Just when you were gone, the noblemen of King Alfred's court wasted no time in flocking around him, their curiosity piqued by the arrival of the enigmatic woman. They bombarded the king with questions and voiced their concerns about the unfamiliar customs you had displayed.

One nobleman, his voice dripping with skepticism, remarked, "Your Majesty, did you see that? She didn't bow or curtsy as she should have! It's as if she has no respect for you."

Another, eyeing your unusual attire and complexion, chimed in, "And her clothing, Your Grace! It's unlike anything I've ever seen in Wessex. She's clearly not from anywhere near England. What could she possibly want here?"

The murmurs of disapproval and suspicion spread among the courtiers, as they exchanged perplexed glances. To them, your arrival was an anomaly, and your behaviour had raised eyebrows and questions.

King Alfred, his countenance calm and measured, raised a hand to quell the growing unease.

"I understand your concerns, but there is nothing to worry about" he began, addressing their concerns. "The lady you have just met is a prominent figure from Baghdad. She has travelled from a distant land to be here and she is not here to defy our traditions or customs. She is a scholar seeking to further her studies in Wessex. Her journey to our land is a great honour, as it reflects the recognition of the importance of our own intellectual pursuits."

His tone left no room for further skepticism. He also did not mention the other reason you were there, as he did not wish to reveal the truth of his declining health. As the nobles filtered out of the room, somewhat still unsatisfied by his answer, Alfred couldn't help but remain still, his mind going over the recent developments. When he had first written to the Abbasid Caliphate to request that he be allowed to host a medical scholar at his court, he had to admit he was not expecting a woman, and certainly not one so beautiful.

The next day, Alfred summoned you to his private chambers for a consultation regarding his health. As you entered the room, he couldn't help but notice the change in your attire. Gone was the flowing linen tunic and trousers, replaced by a sturdier, more practical woollen English dress. The deep blue gauzy veil, however, was still draped around your head and flowed down your back.

The English clothing seemed to complement you, accentuating your elegance in a way that was both unexpected and captivating. The king, not for the first time, found himself admiring you, though he kept such thoughts to himself, mindful of the formal context of your meeting.

You, ever the professional scholar, maintained a polite and formal distance as you began your examination of the king. You inquired about his symptoms, listening attentively to his description of the pain and discomfort he had been experiencing. Your deep knowledge and keen medical insight were evident as you asked probing questions and conducted a thorough assessment.

After a careful evaluation, you began to discuss your observations and your initial diagnosis with the king. You explained your thoughts on the potential causes of his discomfort and suggested a course of treatment. King Alfred was grateful for your expertise, and couldn't help but be struck by your intellect. He had a thirst for knowledge himself and he appreciated the quality in others when he saw it. In you he recognized a passion for learning and documentation, one he held himself as well. After the medical examination, he extended an invitation to you to remain in his chambers and share a cup of tea. Initially hesitant, you eventually agreed, recognizing the value of the opportunity to engage in conversation with the English monarch.

Seated in the warmth of the chamber, Alfred began to share with you the rich history of England, its struggles, its triumphs, and its cultural tapestry. He spoke of the challenges of the Anglo-Saxon period, the battles against the Danes, and the enduring spirit of the English people. As he narrated the history of his land, Alfred couldn't help but notice how your eyes lit up with a deep fascination, even though you attempted to contain your enthusiasm. Your questions flowed naturally as you probed deeper into the history and culture of Wessex. You asked about the Anglo-Saxon kings, the legends and folklore, and the development of the English language.

You kept diligent notes in your little notebook, your hand swiftly capturing every detail of the conversation. Your keen intellect and insatiable thirst for knowledge were evident, and your genuine interest in Alfred's words warmed his heart. It had been quite a while since anyone had paid such rapt attention to what he was saying, and he found himself rejuvenated by your exchange.

As a lull settled over your conversation, Alfred's curiosity got the better of him. With a twinkle in his eye, he leaned forward and said, "My lady, I must admit, I'm quite curious about the contents of that notebook of yours. What sort of information have you been documenting to take back to your homeland?"

You smiled, your demeanour more relaxed than when you had first come in, "Your Majesty, you need not worry. I promise you, I haven't written that the English are fire-breathing trolls."

Alfred felt a grin tug at his lips, but he suppressed the urge, keeping his hands folded placidly over his stomach.

"Well, you know, if we English could breathe fire, we might have an easier time dealing with our enemies!"

"There is a trick that performers back home use, to give the illusion of breathing fire. The science behind it is quite fascinating. Perhaps I shall explain it to you sometime."

"Ah yes my lady, you have filled your book with our tales, but have yet to share yours. Do you have any secrets from the East that you'd like to share with us humble English folk?"

You couldn't help but smirk at his words, "I'm afraid some secrets are best left in the lands where they belong, your grace. We wouldn't want you to start brewing Persian tea incorrectly, now would we?"

"I doubt it can compete with our tried and trusted English tea."

"You only think that way because you haven't tried Persian tea yet. Trust me, once you have, there's no going back."

"I suppose you make a fair point! Although, I must admit, the thought of trying to decipher the intricacies of Arabic calligraphy is rather tempting."

You paused, your light-hearted nature urging you to make another joke but you strictly reminded yourself that you were in the presence of a king. It would do you no good to offend him with an ill-timed statement. You were already apprehensive about your earlier comment about the Persian tea, although you were grateful that he chose not to see it as a slight. As if sensing your hesitation, Alfred sat up in bed and leaned forward.

"You are free to speak my lady, do not hold yourself back on my account," he reassured with a wave of his hand.

Still, you settled for a polite smile, "I was just going to remark on the difficulty of calligraphy but I am certain that if anyone would be able to master it, it'd be you, Your Majesty."

A small furrow appeared between Alfred's brows as if that wasn't the answer he expected from you. He could see you pulling away, going back to your polite, almost cold professionalism. Eventually, he nodded thoughtfully at you.

"I would be ever so grateful if you could perhaps show me the technique someday, my lady."

You breathed a sigh of relief and nodded with a small smile.

"Now, about that notebook, if you would allow me to take a look?"

"Ah yes, of course," you handed over the small leatherbound journal to him quickly without further complaints. "But I must warn you, my handwriting isn't at its most legible."

Alfred accepted the notebook with a nod of appreciation. As he leafed through its pages, his eyes quickly fell upon your meticulously written notes. Your thoughts were inscribed in your native language and although he did not understand the words, your elegant looping script impressed him.

He raised an eyebrow and turned toward you expectantly, pointing toward a specific passage, "And what does this say right here?"

"It is a description of the English weather, your grace."

Alfred leaned closer, his finger tracing the inked lines on the page.

"Ah yes, English weather. It was raining when you first arrived, wasn't it? What do you think of our English rain then, my lady? I've heard it has a certain charm."

"Well, I believe your rain can be quite persuasive. It insists that one should stay indoors and read a good book."

Alfred's lips twitched again, fighting back a smile. It seemed that the new scholar shared his interests as well.

"A wise perspective, indeed. Perhaps our English rain is simply encouraging a literary lifestyle."

"Yes, your grace."

"My lady" he continued, a note of genuine admiration in his voice, "I must tell you, your handwriting is truly exquisite. Tell me, just how many languages have you learned."

You felt a blush creep into your cheeks at his compliment. There was something sincere in his eyes as he waited for your answer, looking at you like your accomplishments were the greatest thing in the world. You opened your mouth to respond but then a loud knock sounded on the door and a priest entered.

"Yes, Father Beocca," Alfred seemed irritated at the interruption.

Father Beocca's eyes glanced from you to the king, and despite the fact that you were sitting in a chair quite some distance away from him, you felt a strange flash of awkward embarrassment run through you.

"My king, Uhtred is here to see you," the priest finally stated.

Alfred sighed and turned toward you with an apologetic smile, "Shall we continue our conversation another time then, my lady? It seems that I am needed elsewhere."

"Yes, of course, your grace."

You quickly took your leave then, choosing to take one of your books and go read in the garden. You had just settled yourself into a comfortable nook when loud boisterous laughter caught your attention. Turning your gaze towards the source of the commotion, you spotted three men, two of whom were dressed in the attire of warriors. Their boisterous behaviour was evident as they playfully teased and shoved the third man, who was clad in robes that resembled those of Father Beocca. However, a leather breastplate adorned his monk's attire, hinting at a surprising duality of roles – priest and fighter.

The two warriors were engaged in a lively exchange with the monk, their laughter echoing through the garden. You couldn't help but smile as you watched the scene unfold. Their camaraderie and jesting reminded you of the Caliph's sons back home, when your father would take you to visit the palace.

One of the warriors, a bearded man with broad shoulders and a hearty laugh, clapped the monk on the back.

"Come now, Osferth," he said between chuckles, "surely your devotion to the Lord could use a bit of levity now and then."

The monk, Osferth, grinned in response, "Aye Finan, it is said that laughter is the best medicine, is it not?"

The other warrior, a lean and quick-witted fellow, joined in with a jest, "Well, if that's the case, Osferth, then Finan here will live to be a hundred and you shall die tomorrow!"

Osferth elbowed the tall man in the ribs, "Not before I knock some sense into you Sihtric."

Their jovial banter and good-natured teasing continued, creating a lively atmosphere in the serene garden. You couldn't help but be amused by their antics and the familiarity of their interactions, watching them for quite some time.

The trio of men eventually noticed your presence, and with their laughter dying down, they made their way over to you. As they approached, their expressions revealed a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

The broad-shouldered warrior, Finan, whose eyes twinkled with mischief, was the first to speak. "Well, what have we here?" he said with a grin. "A traveller from foreign shores, I presume?"

"Yes, I am from Baghdad, my lord."

The warrior, clearly taken with you, couldn't resist a flirtatious remark.

"Lady, I must say, you are a wondrous addition to our English garden."

You snorted at his attempt at flirtation.

Meanwhile, the monk with the leather breastplate maintained a more respectful demeanour.

"Greetings, lady, I am Osferth," he said with a nod. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. May I ask what brings you to our humble Wessex?"

You found the monk's polite curiosity quite refreshing.

"Greetings to you too, Osferth. I've come to further my studies here. Wessex has much to offer in terms of knowledge and history, and I hope to make the most of it."

"Well, my lady, if ever you wish to explore our English shores, I'd be delighted to be your guide," it was Finan who spoke again and you could not help but laugh at his words.

"Thank you, kind sir. Your offer is most gracious."

“Call me Finan, my lady.”

Your change continued as they asked more about you and your hometown and you asked about theirs. You found out that they were a band of warriors who followed some fellow named Uhtred, the very same Uhtred who was currently speaking to King Alfred. As the conversation flowed, you discovered that you enjoyed speaking with these men. Their witty banter and friendly demeanour made you feel at ease, despite the foreignness of your surroundings. You shared stories of your travels, your scholarly pursuits, and the cultural nuances of your homeland. The men, in turn, regaled you with tales of their own adventures.

As you continued to engage in playful banter with the warriors, you remained oblivious to the presence of King Alfred and Uhtred, who had ventured outside and were observing the lively exchange.

Eventually, with a confident stride, Uhtred made his way toward your group to make his introduction and Father Beocca approached the king with his concerns.

"Your Majesty," he began cautiously, "I must admit, I have reservations about entrusting your treatment to a foreigner, especially one from so distant a land. We must be cautious of witchcraft and unfamiliar practices."

King Alfred turned to Father Beocca, his expression thoughtful but resolute, "Father Beocca, I understand your concerns, but the lady is no ordinary foreigner. She hails from Baghdad, a city known for its innovative medical advancements and a center of learning in the Islamic world. She comes as one of their finest scholars, sent by the Caliph himself."

"I see, your grace."

"I have read extensively about the great Islamic civilization, and its contributions to science, medicine, and philosophy. I believe we have much to learn from her, not only about medicine but also about fostering understanding and collaboration between our cultures. They have succeeded in uniting several lands under one caliphate, so perhaps we might learn how we may unite England as well."

Father Beocca, though still cautious, nodded in understanding, "Your Majesty, I trust your judgment. It is my fervent hope that the lady's presence here will indeed lead to beneficial knowledge and that she will uphold the values of wisdom and compassion."

"Thank you, Father Beocca. Let us have faith in this unique opportunity for cultural exchange and enlightenment. Her presence is a bridge between worlds, and I believe it is a path toward a brighter future for Wessex."

Over the course of the next few months, you became familiar with the routines of the Wessex palace. King Alfred allowed you to shadow him throughout his day, believing that you could provide valuable insights into his own activities. It was a decision that would lead to a profound connection between the two of you.

Every day, you diligently prepared poultices and medications for the king’s ailments, and often you’d recite the recipe to him and explain the purpose of each herb and plant that went into it. He found that he trusted you completely but he was still comforted by your transparency and the efforts you took to explain things to him. Sometimes he would insist on accompanying you on walks and you would point out the various native English plants and their counterparts back home. You also documented the king's activities and observations in your notebook. At times, he would request to see your notebook, often just to admire the beauty of your script. He marvelled at the graceful lines of your writing, and the intricate calligraphy that adorned the pages.

Your interactions went beyond the formalities of your initial meeting. King Alfred, always eager to learn, would occasionally ask you to translate certain passages from your native language and over time, your bond grew stronger. King Alfred began to look forward to each day, eager to see your bright and colourful veil, a striking contrast to your plain English gowns. He would wonder which hue you would choose, and it became a delightful anticipation in his daily routine.

Your conversations transcended the realm of duty and scholarly pursuits. The two of you shared your favourite books, discussing the nuances of various works and debating the merits of different translations. Your insights challenged Alfred's own understanding, and he cherished these moments of intellectual stimulation.

As the days turned into weeks and then months, Alfred realized that you had become an important fixture in his life. your presence was a source of inspiration, a reminder of the power of knowledge, and a testament to the potential for understanding and collaboration between different cultures.

He found himself thinking of you when he was apart from you, reminiscing about how your eyes would dance with mirth as you argued with him about the inaccuracies of translated works, or how your laughter would fill the palace corridors. You had not only enriched his pursuit of knowledge but had also touched his heart, becoming a cherished friend and confidante in the process.

Alfred could still vividly recall the way you had looked at him with genuine wonder and appreciation when he had shown you his humble library. He knew that compared to the great libraries of Alexandria and Baghdad, his collection was modest, but you had delighted in it all the same. Your eyes, filled with curiosity and admiration, had swept over the numerous scrolls and manuscripts, taking in the wealth of knowledge contained within those walls.

In that moment, as you softly murmured your thanks, Alfred felt his breath catch. He was struck not only by the beauty of your physical presence but also by the grace with which you carried yourself and the genuine enthusiasm you displayed for learning. Your voice had a melodic quality that lingered in his memory. It was a voice that seemed to breathe life into the ancient texts that surrounded you and the king found himself quite enamoured with you. The two of you spent many a late night pouring over scrolls together, and although he always kept a respectful distance, Alfred found himself wanting to brush away the stray strands of hair that fell across your forehead, having escaped the tightly bound coil you usually kept your hair in.

Tonight was one such night as the dim light of the candle burned low, and after a lively discussion on herbal medicine, you had fallen asleep on one of the ancient manuscripts. Alfred, his mind still buzzing with the echoes of your conversation, fought against the pull of sleep. Instead, he watched you slumber, his heart filled with a mixture of admiration and tenderness.

In the soft candlelight of the library, you appeared even more enchanting. Your thick eyelashes brushed against your cheeks as you slept peacefully, your features serene. Your form rose and fell with each gentle breath, a rhythmic reminder of the tranquil cadence of sleep. Alfred couldn't help but be captivated by your beauty in this unburdened state. The play of shadows and light highlighted the delicate contours of your face, and the soft glow of the manuscripts around you lent an almost ethereal quality to the scene. You looked like a vision from a dream.

As he watched your slumber, a sudden, unexpected urge welled up within him. He was struck by the temptation to lean in and kiss you, but he quickly banished the traitorous thought. What an absurd thing for a king to do, to force his affections on a guest in his home. Especially when he had no way of knowing if you returned his feelings. He would have to content himself with the simple act of watching you sleep, his heart filled with a deep and unspoken longing.

He also found himself wondering if you were betrothed, for you couldn’t possibly be married and still be here. What man would not accompany you or let you out of his sight if you were his wife? Although you had discussed many things, you did not stray close to personal topics such as family. You were only a few years younger than him and surely you had to have someone in your life. And even if you didn’t, what could you possibly want with an ailing man like him when a woman as accomplished as you could have anyone in the world?

Such melancholy things plagued him as he eventually drifted asleep on the table across from you, his final thoughts fixating on what it might feel like to have your lips against his. 

[determinate-negation]

what are your thoughts on this post? (i hope the link doesnt kill this ask, i’m not sure how to edit it so it doesnt so that):

https://(…)www.tumblr.com/(…)tributary/(…)732119807094390785/(…)maybe-i-do-if-it-isnt-the-tea-youve-been

(if this ask goes thru, deleting the parentheses-ellipses should make it work)

brendanicus sucks bc he’s an anti-Black pos, so i’m not seeking to defend him. but i feel like claiming it’s anti-semitic to criticize US media (which has imperialist and capitalist reasons to be pro-israel) is somewhat of a reach, as well as saying the use of the term “blood money” (which we all know is a common term, and an applicable one with how much international funding israel gets to support it’s military violence) is an anti-semitic dogwhistle… i’m not jewish, so i’m not an expert. i sent an ask to a different jewish tumblr user about this post, but they decided i was anti-semitic (for disagreeing with the post, but also bc apparently i was accusing jews of being liars). however, that user seems to have some pro-israel bias and thinks anti-zionism is rooted in anti-semitism, so idk how much stock i can put in their assessment. i’ve been trying to remain self-aware, but things are getting confusing for me when leftists that i thought were anti-zionist are claiming it’s anti-semitic to support palestine

i think im blocked by op because whenever i try to put in the link it says theres nothing there. can someone send me a screenshot?

dont mean to start beef but brendanicus is mad annoying ngl, and his posts are not always the most informed. but anyways. i think i saw his post earlier so ill try to infer, though i dont know what the persons comment is. i dont think "blood money" is antisemitic. as you said its a common term and its also an accurate description. i find this so fucking ridiculous for people to keep getting accused of antisemitism just for basically pointing out that israel is violent and a lot of western money goes into supporting israel- these have to do with capitalism and imperialism not secret jewish plots.

im probably blocked for antizionism crimes tbh, which shows you all you need to know. quite frankly a lot of so called leftists are actually liberals who never really interrogated their beliefs and dont care to study and engage with history and theory. they maintain a liberal mentality, on power and violence and ideology, and especially the jumblr users on here really still believe a lot of zionist propaganda. thats why theyre claiming its antisemitic to support palestine. thats simply it. ive been really trying show why its not antisemitic to criticize biased imperialist media and its just a basic part of marxist analysis and its doing more harm than good to call this antisemitic.

[septima-severa]

A high time to edit my old Titanic fanfic

I think I started writing it before I moved to the countryside, which would now be an astonishing amount of six and half years. I have been fascinated by the ill-fated ship since childhood (thanks to Cameron's movie), and later discovered tons of fanfiction on the ye olde internet. Now, after reading and rereading On the Edge of Daylight by Giselle Beaumont multiple times over the past few years (and I have known this story since it was "just another" fanfic on AO3), I have finally rediscovered my old file - where there have been more notes than text itself - and dove into the On a Sea of Glass to make even more notes.

After all these years, my goals changed. I have worn the period-accurate garments - including a corset - long enough that I'm finally comfortable to continue my tale. And I don't want to write only some another officer appreciation smutty story. I want to introduce more of those half-forgotten characters. I want to overcome the hardships of the Edwardian era as a female doctor on board. I want to...

So many things.

But one stays the same - infamous prankster Charles Herbert Lightoller. And THIS is giving me a hard time.

It will take a lot of time yet before I will be comfortable enough to post the first chapter. In the end, I have written a completely new one just today. But there is an excerpt with Lights that I want to share now.

---

“I’m afraid that Captain Smith’s arrival is not due for another hour,” he informed her, watching her expression fall slightly. “But I’m sure you can wait in the Officers’ Mess, maybe with some tea to ward the morning chill off?”

“Wonderful,” she smiled, warmth returning to her eyes.

Instead of simply trusting her with instructions, the man insisted on accompanying her to the boat deck.

“Oi, William!” came from behind them when they walked towards the Officers’ Mess on the starboard side of the Boat Deck. The male voice was accompanied by rather hastened steps as its owner chased after them. They both turned in unison to see another officer running in their direction, blindly adjusting his tie. “I thought I’ve heard you and –“ he stopped abruptly, eyeing the newcomer. “Sneaking women on board dressed in the uniform now, Will? While on duty? And what would Ada say?”

“Lights!” Murdoch elbowed him in warning, a hint of blush creeping to his cheeks.

Alexandra picked on the newcomer’s teasing tone. “His wife would say absolutely nothing, as she is an occasional patient of mine,” she brushed him off, offering her hand in greeting. “Alexandra Metcalfe, your Assistant Surgeon for the maiden voyage and beyond.”

Now was the time for him to stand there flabbergasted, his mouth hanging open.

“May I introduce the First Officer, Charles Lightoller,” Murdoch said with exasperation, watching his comrade losing his marbles in real time and, frankly, enjoying every moment of it.

Said man’s eyes widened slightly in disbelief, masked by a question. “Surgeon? But… but you are a… uh, a woman.” He was still in shock, if judging by his stammering over words. And it was not just an effect of early hour of her arrival.

“Excellent observation, Mr Lightoller. Indeed, I am, but in case you would need some stitches, I bet you wouldn’t tell mine apart from my male counterparts. Or maybe I shouldn’t apply anaesthetics before I have a go at it?” she grinned at him, returning the jest.

“Oh my God,” Lightoller muttered, face red as a tomato. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to assume –”

“No offense taken. I sincerely hope there is no problem with that.”

“With what?”

“Why, Mr Lightoller, with the third surgeon being a woman, of course! I wouldn’t want to distract you fine men from your duties!”

Mr Murdoch snorted at that. Since they had resumed their walk, he was now clutching the door handle from the Officers’ Mess, battling with himself to not double over in fits of laughter. He had known this woman, although they had met only fleetingly on board the Olympic the previous year. However, even then she had been known for her sharp wits and brusque tongue.

He opened the door to reveal the Fifth Officer slumped over his breakfast, watching his mug of coffee with bleary eyes, blinking slowly. The knot of his tie hang loosely around his neck, the shirt collar unbuttoned and crooked.

“Mr Lowe, for God’s sake,” he growled at the poor lad who reacted too slowly to snap at attention.

“Sod off…” the dishevelled man grumbled.

“Our Fifth Officer is out of sorts today, I’m afraid,” Murdoch turned to the woman standing beside him.

“He looks a bit green in his face,” she mused.

Lightoller was peeking inside the room over their joined shoulders. “Captain on deck!” he shouted, the loudness of it making Alexandra wince. At that, the man at the table stood abruptly, overturning his chair. “Here, everything’s in order again, minus Mr Lowe’s shirt,” the First Officer smirked.

[mutini-ooc]

oooo! i wanna know your theories now - gfrj mod C

oh my god okay im Not That Smart though so im probs gnna be SO off uhhh lemme put a cut rq

this isnt a theory moreso analysis. mod marcy makes me ILL. "i wasnt good enough as a bard" & then dies as BARD OF HEART. destroying the soul of the session & then everyone starts dropping like flies becuase THEY ALL SLOWLY LOSE IT. im normal. im ill. im soooooo normal & ill abt this how they cld only fulfill their sburb assigned role after death AFTER . THINKING THEY WERENT GOOD ENOUGH HELLO IM SSOOOOO ILL.

okay now actual theories. i think its super interesint felix is a space player yet they talk. a LOT abt time. like. a lot a lot. ? whats up w that. also i STILL have no clue abt why they switched 2 the whole stagehand thing. v bizarre. v curious. i thiiink it has 2 do w the fucked up creature but after that im lost. horrorterrors??? fuck if i know.

anyways YEAHHH I WAS RIGHT ABT THE SCRATCHING. i KNEW it. im soooo curious 2 see the dancestors(? its not the right term but i dont even have a collective name 4 the original so,,,,) esp bc i rmmbr walten/stagehand mentioning beforus as a way 2 suggest the scrtach. also stagehand mentions "the new cast" & "the next play." so i wld imagine were getting beforan versions of the original cast so YEAHHHHHHHHH RGAGHHHHH IM SO NORMAL. RUAHGHGHH

sad as hell 2 see the better luck next time. god. im so normal. i kinda hope the original cast comes back but ik there isnt much luck of that happening. a fan can dream tho. :C

super interesting that stagehand says walten "exited stage left//" but theres no [JUST] sprite. so walten MIGHT not be dead. & i know that doesnt have 2 do w the scratch physics cuase lamb goes heroic like right after.

im still super curious 2 see what the fuck is possessing(???? stagehand didnt make a unique intro + js edited felix' + felix left when stagehand showed up + stagehand has space powers so i thiiiink its possession. smth along those lines @ least.) felix bc theyre clearly still alive. im super curious 2 know if itll ever leave & felix will have 2 deal with. uh. the Consequences of the first session.

what the Fuck was the thing in the sky bandit bandit what was that.

also WHAT HAPPENED 2 BANDIT. WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT. HELLO. WAS THAT THE SCRATCH??? i doubt it cuase the scratch construct shows up LATER. so. ? whats up w that one.

again. what is UP with stagehand/felix & walten they clearly have something similar especially since SUPER SEUPER early psots like the FIRST walten posts are mixed w felix. its bizarre i cant make heads or tails of it str8 up but im presuming thats getting answered in the next sesh. please tell me if it was said in the 1st one & i missed it.

anyways thats it idk how much or if any of it is accurate. @ all. i havent been keeping up w the middle parts of the blog super closely so i might need 2 go thru the archive. idk how relevant most of itll be 2 the bef session tho but im gnna try 2 read more of it b4 stagehand finishes the new play & caste.

[lilyrealm]

LETS TALK ABT THE AGESWAP AU BECAUSE IM. IM Bored and think its fun! disclaimer: this is very long and VERY messy because i just rambled and typed whatever appeared in my head, so some characters metas are in different parts of the post. i plan to neaten everything up somewhere else eventually so uh... yes. i also took the liberty of bolding the first mention of characters in their parts so its easier to find a specific char...? honestly its so hard to see on pc but i know that on mobile its a lot more obvious (mobile edit: so that was a fucking lie. i think its bc i see all those imagines blogs do it but they also colour the bolded words differently so its more obvious. oh well

so i call it ageswap because the initial concept stemmed from all the sibling pairs. klee albedo, jean barb, ayato ayaka, you get it. just... wouldnt it be cool to imagine... older sister klee, still very bomb-happy, and a baby bedo who somehow still has to make sure klee doesnt bomb all of mondstadt. though i would hope that now shes older shes a bit more sensible, but shes not human so i dont even know what age she should be. is albedo 500? (also imagine klee making bombs with baby amber. thats a role model)

anyway. i am assuming jean and barbs parents took 1 child each due to age (older -> knights) which means itd be knight barb deaconess jean. although, are they really fit for their jobs? sure you can def make a case for "theyre brought up differently" but thats not the point of this au. anyway i think neither of them would advance far in their field (well jean might but not as a deaconess) barbara wont have the kind of drive to be acting grand master (im not saying shes not like, determined or a hard worker, but she might not be as strict as she should be, perhaps. its hc land ok if she were acting grand master itd just be a roleswap) and jean isnt much about singing, she'd probably hold a high position within the church is all. itd be fun if she found kid!rosaria and adopted her into the church. though itd ALSO be fun if barbara found her instead, she'd be sooo warm... imagine mini knight rosaria lol.

jumping to inazuma for a while, it would also be interesting to see the kamisatos swapped... ayaka would probably have less of a princess image if she has to lead the clan. more girlbossy though there might still be hidden passion and desire to be normal, just a different flavour. and lol princely ayato i hope everyone buys him boba or something. what if he (sorry if this isnt accurate please dont flay me alive) brings back thoma from ritou island like oneesan can we adopt him and ayakas like we're fucking brok (i joke she probably wouldnt say that. would she?)

anyway moving on. this is less like ageswap and more like roleswap im realising, cuz i was thinking abt what if xiao and ganyu swapped ages/birth eras. the problem is i dont know whether ganyu should just take xiaos place in the whole trapped by some demon and zhongli rescues her thing. but no matter what the roleswap here means shes the vigilant yaksha... wouldnt that be quite the look.

baby xiao

ok ill be serious. this means baby xiao was brought up by cloud retainer LO

i cant take this seriously. should xiao be the half-qilin. please. i need to see this. outfit swap, make a new outfit, whatever, i just think itd be funny to see characters with a completely diff aesthetic and temperament. (this also counts for genderswaps in stories where gender roles exist, which is nearly all of them unless youre making your own society...)

so moving on—haha imagine cloud retainer going "let me tell u abt when xiao was a kid" and xiaos like NO PLS—woah what was that. actually would you age/roleswap venti and zhongli or zhongli and xianyun. this is more ageswap than roleswap i think so its probably xianyunWHICH ACCIDENTALLY JUST MAKES HIM XIAOS DAD AGAIN though the dynamic should be different...? but no if i want zhongli to act like xianyun thats a role/personalityswap isnt it. im supposed to think what if xianyun was born in zhonglis time (oh god would she even be the geo archon? realistically probably not but if we dont want to veer too wildly off course... no wait maybe she can still be liyues archon but the element just isnt geo. she must be... another element or a new one... we'll get back to this. we'll just say she was an archon, saved ganyu, etc i think shed be much less flippant with all those years and wars under her belt. though to be fair zhongli can also be stupid funny sometimes but 😭 how am i supposed to write my lil hcs if theyre not a little ooc[shot]

so anyway. i went on a tangent. the next pair i wanted to talk about is shenhe and chongyun. just... yk part of this is just to see chars with diff vibes and fits, im unsure how different in personality theyd be here (as in theyd act the way the other acts in canon) though i guess thats a nature nurture question. but which parts of a person arent nature... okay wait. so. this is ageswap not roleswap, which means they must each retain their special thing: chongyuns yang and shenhes... er... murderous vibe (yk i actually have a crack pairing of her with signora bc theyre both fiery dangerous women tempered by their cryo BUT IM GETTING OFF TOPIC.) and this is ageswap so they should be born in the same places...

wait... so xiao and ganyus birth circumstances wouldnt change. but would it make sense for xiaos captor to be alive during the cataclysm or was he one of the smaller gods morax killed before the archon war. we'll say yes so we dont have to scrap everything. ganyu is still half-qilin thought im unsure if shed be a yaksha, its not exactly her nature (because of the qilin part ive heard). during this time liyue was still interacting with the adepti right, so maybe shes alr been working among humans lol

so xiao... would probably be rescued close to before the cataclysm... he could train to help them there (i think ganyu helped too) but he probably wouldnt be part of the five yakshas. maybe just a normal yaksha like that guy we built a temple for. or he could die no, realism brain, stop ruining the hcs. but yea hed have way less angst abt the five(now four) since he didnt really know them, probably. (what if they babysat him) but maybe he'll feel some inferiority like templeguy (im so sorry dude let me google—pervases thats right) im not gonna lie, a lot of xiao ganyu ageswap concept comes from how ganyu is very intimidated to be taught by xiao in her story quest and hes just like this is just what we do.

younger xiao might also be less affected by karma, so who knows what his temperament might be like?

okay baaaack to shenhe and chongyun. shenhes past probably plays out the exact s—hold on i havent resolved (in my mind) the xianyun zhongli ageswap. or less of a specific char ageswap but more swap this persons age to the opposite (young/old). but zhongli has to be part of the archon war?? would xianyun even step up to be archon!? maybe i just want to see someone swap venti and zhonglis fits. the short and the tall yk. so... er...... ok fine such a drastic change means xianyun might just bWait what if guili was the liyue archon. they said she was "too soft" but if there isnt zhongli around... (but xianyun was alive for that so unless i want to make zhongli born after the cataclysm in which case i have literally no idea where hed even come from or go) but he was already archon then so we have to imagine xianyun as the

we'll just pretend their ageswaps also led to a roleswap okay. i cant do this. so shenhes backstory would be the same except zhongli raises her? huh.......... i have no fucking clue how a kid raised by zhongli would act. but anyway the whole point of this is just so young shenhe can meet adult chongyun and chongyun is like wtf is this KID doing out here!? and then she punches a geovishap in the face and hes like wh. and also finds out shes his "niece" waittt what if he feels kind of respnsible for her 🥺 and wants to adopt her or smth 😭 thats such an interesting dynamic change. oh and xingqius there. i guess he should have a younger bro instead now, but idk how that would change him much. if xingqiu is head of the family he might not have time for his novel pursuits tho... just an old dream he never got to fulfill :(

theres... a lot more adults than children in this game and making all of them kids would just mean their usual positions (ningguang, keqing, yelan etc) are taken up by some random adult, we dont have 1 to 1 pair like some of the previous ones... hay wouldnt it be cute if ningguang and beidou were teenage sweethearts and just went on dates. wed get to see that. aww. sorry to ganyu keqing fans suddenly it became age gap (well it was already age gap but the more acceptable kind...)

ohhh right now i remember. i think i originally wanted to ageswap hu tao and zhongli. but again teen zhongli would complicate things SO much. adult hu tao would presumably be more serious about things... or less... it could go either way honestly. i guess the most we can aim for is that zhongli has a teen body like venti and gets adopted by hu tao but she actually treats him like a proper adult/employee vs everyone else? that could be something.

ermmmm. what else, who else. jumping straight to fontaine for a bit, freminet being the older bro to lyney and lynette would be really cute... hed definitely have to lose some of his shyness but hed probably still be kind of an introvert, but his lil siblings are just full of energy and he loves them. awuuuuuu

uh. kid childe and adult teucer? getting stuck in the abyss for months really changes you though so this one doesnt really count, we honestly dont know if teucer would end up just like childe lmao. so scratch that. hmm... collei and tighnari? no, but how does the manga plot go if shes an adult and cyno also should be a kid/teen here (i mean obviously thered be another general mahamatra but. well itd just be a guy we dont know) ok i also dont know enough about the manga so we will also scratch that. just look at cute fanart where baby cyno plays cards with baby tighnari or smth, i bet that exists. with babysitter collei looking over tuem or something. that has to exist.

hold on. hold on. i was gonna talk abt rukkha and nahida but what if... ei scara ageswap. ooooh that changes way too many things. no yeah its impossible if we want to keep them in their original roles. we have to roleswap them for it to work and even then im not sure because the whole thing was at birth scara was too soft so he might not be makotos body double? i mean yeah he can do anything... we'll say he did and hes now shogun and actually nvm i cant think of anything new hed do, itd just be a repeat of eis actions cuz theres no plot otherwise. just. its just an outfitswap or genderswap at this point.

so that was a fail. are there any more interesting pairs to ageswap or even an individual whod be different as a AHHH QIQI AND BAIZHU!! wait no. theyre literally born in diff eras. unless its just... adult zombie qiqi and aspiring doctor baizhu this is not interesting at all. considering qiqis whole appeal is little zombie girl being more cute than scary. BUT ID LOVE TO SEE THE ART! what would an adult qiqi look like... i guess you can really go any way if she isnt a zombie in art, like wtf would she wear, its just up to each artist.

im dying i dont think—i forgot to talk about rukkha and nahida. but im now realising this also amounts to a roleswap just like ei and scara cuz one exists because of the other. or just... the appearance of baby 草神 dying and the new archon the sages find is a fucking adult woman. theyd probably still lock her up tho since by circumstance she should be the same as nahida in that moment where she doesnt know anything. theres a dark thought here but it could also happen in canon if genshin really wanted to go dark (which they wouldnt ofc). actually idk how much nahida knew when she woke up she mightve mentioned it but i forgor.

WAIT WAIT WAIT IM LOOKING AT MY OLD TWITTER THREAD AND I FORGOT THIS CUTE DETAIL WHICH IS. yk how theres art of kaeya being an older brother to klee. imagine older sis klee taking care of kaeya because she knows he feels out of place as a foreigner... double that with part-chinese amber and albedo being albedo and klee suddenly has a diaspora daycare(???) is bennett being part-natlan canon. but hed be an adult in this au. gruff older bennett who becomes another adventurers guild dad awww. i think hed have a nice mustache beard combo. also adult fischl... im thinking she writes novels and she hits it big, maybe. or not? idk, who knows.

is there anything else... (opens character list on the wiki) fatui... i have no idea how to ageswap them, theyd just stop being important the plot dskfjhskf?? and the adult fatui have to be replaced with other ppl so, not ideal.

oh there is more on the twitter thread... about... oh yeah lmao. diona and diluc. diona taking over the wine industry without a competitor lmaooo (depends on crepus' survival but i dont think thats dependent on kaeya and diluc's ageswap soooo. dead dad! kaeya is older but its not a big deal i think they dont have a big difference in age right?) it becomes like some sort of rivalry with venti bcuz ofc venti is nawt gonna stand for wine being driven out of mondstadt!! what the hell would he even do tho. ADOPT HIMSELF INTO DILUCS FAMILY LOL? but also, i dont know if diona will accomplish anything even without diluc competing with her, because the whole point is she makes good drinks. unless as an older woman shes kind of figured out the thing so... she just wouldnt... make drinks. or come up with some psychological battle like the drinks are nice but the atmosphere is bad or you get really unlucky and mobbed or something ok maybe thats a bit much idk. rip diona she can never catch a break!

oh wait adult sayu........ er.............. i guess it wouldnt be sayu if she werent still a sleepy slacking ninja but she kind of doesnt have the "grow tall" excuse anymore. but maybe shes more like a "can slack on the job but still gets it done perfectly" kinda archetype.

i could do something crazy by having yae be born in this era and tease the closed-off princely ayato and the ayato yae shippers can feast on it or something. idk i dont ship it but considering their whole appeal is both of them being sly/tricksy... it would be kinda cute to see that on kids/teens. wait but ayato being like that was bc he was the older brother and had to deal w the politics... here ayaka is doing it. (how er patriarchal is inaz girl nvm their leader is a woman what am i thinking. well not in this timeline. lol wait) if they still got some gender roles (probably since its based on real life culture... we live in a society) then maybe ayaka cant be as girlbossy as she wants. oh, to get things in high places... maybe people dont take her seriously as a woman... so she has to... ohh........ this sucks man :( k but what does this have to do with ayato. what would he be like. sheltered from it or knowledgeable? i think he would probably know. oh god hes the looks princely archetype but actually a fucking bitch behind closed doors. and not canon kind of "hes willing to play dirty to get things done" but like actually awful. yeah i can totally see that. but yae is like totally unfazed and laughs in his face. WHY am i writing yaeyato fanfic in my au ramblings ive never even thought of this ship before??????? (bc i dont really care about ayato sorr

ok thats it YAHOO!!!!

[i-say-stupid-things]

reblogging from you to answer your question (i hope this is alright with you)

question for context:

that definitely works!! and while obviously it will vary from person to person, i would much prefer a “i hope you’ll feel better soon” than a “get well soon” or “get better” bc that feels like they’re wishing me a good recovery and/or for me to get healthy again, and while a lot of people might not intend for this, and i also don’t believe anyone says it with malice or bad intend, if you hear it over and over again it feels shitty for multiple possible reasons. also depending on the person, they might still grieve the life they had hoped for that they can no longer sustainably live. so depending on what their situation is, “feel better” is just more accurate and nicer! it also feels more like the other person has an understanding of at least a little what you’re dealing with and not like they expect you to actually be healthy and well again in the near future!

i also took the tags of some other people that i thought were on topic for this (i apologise if anyone isn’t okay with their tags being put on display like this pls lemme know if that’s the case and ill change it)

i also saw someone say “i hope your good days outnumber your bad days” which is also a nice sentiment i like, and would like hearing wayyy more than “get well soon” or a “i hope your pain eases”

also (i know it’s a lot of text but it’s worth it i promise) i especially like what’s been said in the first screenshot of tags because there is nothing wrong with acknowledging the struggle and pain people have to deal with! of course don’t treat them like they’re fragile or in a weird way towards them but especially if it’s someone you’re closer with, someone you see more or less regularly, a friend, family, whatever really! acknowledging their struggles can be really nice! obviously i can only speak for myself on this, but i will quickly feel like i am being annoying or whiny about something that isn’t that big of a deal to the people around me, because i have dealt with this my whole life and was always told i’m overreacting and just being dramatic or sensitive. i think many people went through similar things, so having other people acknowledge our struggles without having to make a big deal about it first can be great and comforting in its own way!

this was a little long, sorry. but i hope this answer helped you and maybe also others who stumble upon this version and might ask themself what a better response would be! also i hope this makes sense, english isn’t my first language. but feel free to ask any more questions! i don’t might answering! (this goes for anyone! but maybe send an ask, i only saw this by coincidence. i turned the notifications on this post off bc they were getting a bit overwhelming hahah)

edit: as a little disclaimer(?) i’ve only been made aware of all the stuff i’m dealing with not being the norm for everyone, and this just actually being fucked shit my body, does comparatively recently and haven’t really come to terms with/made my peace with this. so this might vary completely for someone that has made their peace and come to terms with all that stuff. also the fact that english isn’t my first language might affect some things here

what is it with able bodied people saying “get well soon” after you say that you’re chronically ill?? like? i am not gonna? and i once literally responded with “i’m not gonna, it’s chronic, as in permanent.” and they went like “oh well, hope you get better!” like bro 💀

[cardboardslugs]

I did some searching because I didn't want to ask on ao3 and potentially spoil anyone, hope that's ok! I wanted to know if you would be ok with sharing the the plot map for Schrödinger's Murder, and/or what you mean about the chapter with Chihiro's parents containing extreme foreshadowing? Hope this isn't too invasive, and I can completely respect if you want everything to be a surprise for everyone!

HEY ANON I WANT TO KISS YOU HOTLY AND WETLY ON THE MOUTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Im gonna give you BOTH of your requests, and then some, BUT!!! under the cut bc I also respect the fact some people wanna stay surprised!!! SERIOUS TWs for body horror; sexual assualt; mental illness; physical assualt; euthanasia; and all other tags found on my ao3 fic!!!

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!!!!

OCTOBER 2ND, 2024 EDIT: this plot map is entirely outdated. Some of what is in here is still mostly accurate to what is going to happen. most of it is not. Plots change. the Ending hasnt.

let me establish something before I continue: DR3 the anime did not fucking happen, In this fic. i am going complete and total pre-spike chunsoft sole-aquisition. Nanami was never a real person, Chihiro did not get nerfed by becoming two different characters, and Ryota Mitari does not Fucking Exist. Everyone was manipulated the hard way, Junko is not a tactical mastermind, shes a dumb model with an axe to grind and her dead boyfriend's stolen research notes. lets move on.

okay so, from the point we're at, plot map goes as follows:

Kirigiri has a theory. she's listening to Byakuya and Chihiro recount stories. Hands makoto a bat "Im going to need you to hit me across the head as hard as you physically can. no holding back. dont worry about it."

everyone arguing in the nurses office, chihiro loudly asserting everyone needs to go for a bath. Naked. Completely fucking naked gloves and all miss kirigiri-san!!!!

Byakuya flat out refuses. Toko refuses. Kirigiri refuses. "oh three possible murderers refusing, that's not suspect at all" "none of us murdered anyone. Chihiro's right there" "i am in fact alive. but that's not the point, dumbfucks." AUDIBLE GASPING AT CHIHIRO SWEARING

chihiro manages to convince them all to take a bath. some its more like "gentle persuasion" (sakura throws them in the tub).

Mondo, Chihiro has to drag him there by the ear. also have three other people go with him, because he's been alone in his room for 5 days after now finding chihiro alive, and hes trying to commit die.

"whyd you say you wanna be strong? I would have helped you if thats the case!" "i didnt say stong?? who told you that? I said *masculine*. not strong. that's exactly why i didnt ask you, sakura. it wound be an insult upon insults! im not that foolish!! why would I ever come to a woman for help being a man?!" "... well, great, now I *really* wanna kill myself!!" "sit down oowada, not as bad as I do." "what does that mean?!" "...dont worry about it-"

"great. now that you're all caught up, I need every last one of you to take medium head trauma" "The only thing i have become convinced of is that chihiro is fucking insane. I think mercy killing is in order, lets draw straws" "LISTEN TO ME YOU BRAINDEAD COWS!"

cut to junko enoshima having a very horrible no good day. after a very shitty phone call with kamukura, she's planning to off chihiro her damn self.

class 77 is ballin- by which to say they have been in the building the whole time and theyre feelin the hope baybee!! theyre making plans to ensure Junkos next trial goes south, if 78 cant fuck her up on their own. Peko comes back with news from the bath house, and lies about it to enoshima.

No one with any functional functional braincells agrees to get wacked over the head. Gundam neatly arranges for ceiling tiles and other objects on high shelves to fall for seemingly no reason. :) must be ghosties :) totally not tiny gods what are you talking about :)

junko had given a phone call to kamukura earlier. kamukura is rounding up the hit list victims before getting them out of there before any real harm can come to them. shoves them in a place he'll be able to keep them safe until something good comes- and as a master tactian, he's keeping an eye on the TV. theyre all in bad shape though, bears are not cool fun things. Funny how hope works!! Komaeda Nagito is practically creaming himself. Also is getting his shins beaten in with wiffle bats while making pbj sandwiches for some very bratty chidren of hope.

meanwhile, the gig is up for junko. and NOBODY is happy. junko's plan falls apart at the seams and she got rid of her insurance policy WAY too early. funny how quickly the monokuma bots will turn when she's not in control of them. The ending does not bring her the "despair" she desires-- because she has never experienced actual despair a day in her god forsaken life.

everyone brings their ass to safety, and Byakuya founds the Future Foundation with what's left of reasonable humanity-- but with all the people who got out alive before some REALLY bad shit happened; celebrations are in order. ahh yes. class 77 being the party cat comic once again.

happy 77/78 reunion time!! until they realize that at least half of 77 is HORRIBLY disfigured from things they did to themselves in the name of faux-despair terrorism. Nidai has become terribly weak from his heart condition that he had stopped taking his meds for. Fuyhikos eye is completely gouged out. Ibuki's head is shaved n burned and she has a hard time speaking because she took a chunk out of her tongue and drank a lil bleach, "just a tiny bit!!". Imposter is rail thin, could actually pass for Byakuya if someone bothered to check weight. Mahiru has several chemical burn scars from using photo development equipment as bombs. Mikan going on a full-blown panic attack self-harm-spree, and Kazuichi ate radium.

Chihiro, having remembered how close he was to Kazuichi, is particularly distraught over what's become of him. Chihiro, in all the strength he doesn't have, weakly pounds at kaz's arm-- and instantly breaks it. Chihiro has a breakdown. Kazuichi is not seen for several days, despite people looking for him. He's out eating more radium to speed up the process of it killing him.

Byakuya finally finds Souda and they talk for a little. Kazuichi's skin is sloughing off from him trying to wipe his tears. byakuya promises to take care of chihiro for him. kaz says his jaw hurts. byakuya makes a snide comment, and as kazuichi goes to rub his temples- his jaw quite literally falls off his face. Byakuya has no choice but to call for help- when he finally gets someone on the line, Kazuichi has brought Byakuya to a pipe wrench begging (as much as he can with virtually no tongue) to kill him. Fortunately, it's kirigiri and she's just meeting a hope-filled hinata- andHinata says, with kamukura knowledge, at the point he's describing, if that's how Souda wants to go, so be it.

Chihiro has no idea what happened when they basically come back with Souda's mangled body parts in an amazon box, but distraught is a VERY weak word for it. Byakuya had recorded their conversation, prior to having to call help. hearing Kaz talk doesnt make chihiro feel *good*, but it does put some of his fears at ease.

and the recovery ward is feeling okay enough for guests, at that point!! Kanon is fucking pissed but she and maizonos bitch can go suck my dick this aint about them!!!

good fun family time baybeeeee!!! everyone is excited to see their Most Important Person. there is full blown sob fests. Celestia Ludenberg looks like a KISS oc from ugly crying about her cat. the yamada siblings assert their position as pop team epic. Taka is buttmad only at staff that they saved his father from a stroke. Kenshiro is impressed with sakura. Aoi is about to introduce her brother and is immeadiately shocked sakura has a boyfriend. Pennysworth and Taichi are in a weird argument, that both of them drop upon seeing their respective kids again. Chihiro is just happy to see his dad after such a rough time.

"you're in pants, for once!" "y-yeah. yeah I am." "... I'm not one for praise to others; but you raised a strong son, Mr. Fujisaki" ".. thank you, togami. He's quite the handsome young man, too." Chihiro is openly sobbing. i need to be normal.

the world is starting to be rebuilt. everyone is getting therapy. *EVERYONE*. Byakuya realizes the ENTIRE togami empire fell- and beats the name to plowshears. The chick in that egg is finally out; her name is Polaris P. Polanski and she starts E. conincidentally the same day Chihiro starts T. three years have passed since Kazuichi's funeral, Gundam and sonia are in a stable relationship- literally, they spend most of their time trying to repopulate animals. (BA DUM TSSS) lots of people are getting the medical help they need, Nidai's gotten a heart transplant, Nagito has his AIDS under control, other people are starting to get rehomed; komaru and toko are the very first to get that luxury simply to keep Syoko (a moniker picked up by fukawa to reclaim her own humanity) away from Polaris at all costs. makoto is going ham with pet projects- by which to say he is finally introducing the warriors of hope back into the adults. theyre about 8 or 9 at this point.

theyre still their very own family unit, and they desperately want monaka to move forward with them. Monaka does not want this, for herself or for others. she actively harms people any way they can when she's allowed to see them. has shanked people with colored pencils.

i have to put this in another block, tumblr hates me and I am VERY wordy.

all of the adults try to talk reason into her. there is no reason to be talked into. she even got to live with komaeda and hajime for a month, and not even that proved to get anywhere, and Komaeda had to get a blood transfusion halfway through because of monaca. All the department heads agree, though with a lot of hemming and hawing, espicially from chihiro-- some people are too far gone, and cannot be saved.

Chihiro asks (and gets) to sit with Monaca while she is executed. she's supposed to not know. She Knows. She's a smart little shithead. She tries to stab Chihiro to death while poison very slowly works its way through her bloodstream. Thank god she's 10 and he's been working out a whole lot. She takes off half his tit though, and it gives him an excuse to get top. Chihiro is never sitting with anyone while they forcfully die again.

the kids go through another 6 months of therapy to process what just happened- though to be frank, they had gotten over her nonsense a while ago, and don't feel much after about only two months. they come to the conculsion it'll probably effect them more as young adults.

the kids are assigned to families via makoto. Taka and Mondo arent dating, but with how/how much they bicker, they might as well be married. they get joint custody daimon, who needs good male figures in his life who wont hurt him. Syoko and Komaru, lesbians extraordinaire, get Kotoko. SA victims help SA victims. syoko teaches her all the best places to stab men if they ever try to put their hands on her. several people go to the hopital for it. shes 10!! its deserved!! chihiro gets jataro. Taichi and Chihiro and Jataro are basically 3 peas in a pod, and they really love fostering Jataros interests and helping him learn healthy coping mechanisms for his autism. Polaris gets Nagisa. "both of you need to learn how to be kids for once!" "what the hell is that supposed to mean." "watch your tongue." "dont tell me what to do" "see? this is what i mean. go sneak into the food stores! get the sticks out of your asses and live a little!! take some inspiration from Mondo or something."

they do. polaris finds out she has a horrible addiction to goldfish crackers. Chihiro now uses them as a bribe, scooby snack style. Nagisa discovers what a food coma is. polaris and nagisa continue to be silly and have fun and play.

the kids function as additional therapy for all of the people who care for them, as well as therapy for the kids.

antics ensue!! the kids all play pranks get in trouble, grow up a bit more. polaris and chihiro are fucking, thinking about getting married, maybe owning up to a promise of their own to Polanski's dead father. Taka has learned fully what aromantic asexuality is and is comfortable in that indentity. Mondo feels lost without a partner, but his right hand man from the gang is always there for him, and he loves his son. Syoko is not allowed back at the foundation, but Komaru and Makoto meet up frequently, and kotoko always slips little pieces of Polaris to her mom. trouble is brewing under the surface-- its not despair, but Junko would be thrilled.

this is where the forshadowing in chapter 6 starts to become fully realized.

while taka's dad has always been a shithead about not only his own son, but also chihiro, taichi has had enough of it while theyre out getting some air and a few people are smoking. there is a large and serious old man fight. Taichi, by making Takaki KO, objectively wins, but not without doing some serious damage to himself.

taka is absolutely THRILLed that his father got his ass handed to him. he aslo does not visit his dad. fuck that. "Taichi Fujisaki got in a fight with my father because he said me, chihiro and jataro should all die by our own hands? the only reason i would be mad at mr fujisaki at this point is if my father isnt dead from this fight. Taichi is more my father than that man is."

taichi is visited by his son, his sons girlfriend (who is weathering an engagement ring in her pocket), and his sons girlfriend's butler in the hospital ward. Taichi Fujisaki as a very clear brand mark on his back between his shoulderblades- one that is extremely old and must have been seared into him in his youth-- and it says "Togami" in Kanji. Chihrio is confused, Polaris is frozen in fear, and Pennysworth is yelling a name neither of them recognize, but Taichi visibily shrinks to.

FUN BACKSTORY TIME OF HOW TAICHI FUJISAKI ESCAPED BEING A TOGAMI, CHANGED HIS IDENTITY, TOOK THE CASH AND RAN!! ("and that, chihiro, is why your mom always joked about extra broccoli." "you convinced mom that those kanji meant ADD BROCCOLI?!" "she couldnt read kanji and you never saw my back!! It worked out fine! unitl now, I guess--")

suddenly polaris doesnt feel so good about the engagement ring in her pocket-- even if in any other culture it is absolutely not weird to marry your estranged step-grand-cousin. Pennysworth is just thrilled to see his first Togami child again. Polaris thinks shes going to be sick over it, has a panic attack-- actually, much worse- a psychotic break. brought on by trauma. she's cold and snappy, and demands to not be called Polaris, "that girl is dead and has been dead for years. My name is Byakuya Togami, damnit!" Chihiro's in actual shock.

MEANWHILE!!! Jataro has finally been confident enough to be taking his mask off, and has gone for his first physical. He makes mention of what he knows about his mother-- and says right out that he killed her. He only knows her as one "Jean Mullen. but Mullen's a stupid name, So i said i dint have one and Junko helped me pick Kemuri." He mentions that if his real father is out there after having left his birthgiver for dead, he's angry, and if he were to meet him in his current state, Jataro feels confident he could kill him, too. Hajime is the doctor running this; and the name seems familiar to him, but he's not quite sure. he runs blood tests against every person he has in the system. and hajime is about to have to give the worst news of his life. but not before jataro shows them exactly where the dead, frozen body of his mom is.

Taichi Fujisaki had a tall, red-headed wife named "Gwendolyn Jeanette Mullen-Fujisaki". Chihiro and Jataro get along more like an older brother to a much younger sibling. Gwen had a horrible habit of verbally, and very occasionally physically, lashing out if she was denied her coping mechanisms. During the end of the world- the last thing she did was make love to her husband one last time! She did not know she would get pregant. or survive to see the baby born. or even get to know if her husband and son were alive!! so face to face in the end of the world with this terrible little infant who looked exactly the way chihiro should have? she became a terrible, terrible mother.

a now dead terrible single mother. who taichi and chihiro have to confirm the indentity of. Jataro does not understand why chihiro is having such a meltdown. "Polaris" is FURIOUS that not only was she never actually the sole heir(ess?) - this now discovered branch of her family is the Fujisakis and they've got a whole BUNCH of weird shit going on!!!!

Chihiro and Taichi privately talk with Jataro's therapist. he works through it because he's old enough (15) to realize and recognize that "hey, i didnt know I would have been concieved at the same time this horrible, world changing event happened, and my dad didn't walk out because my mom sucked- my dad didnt walk out at all! my dad got kidnapped!! and now he's right here with my older brother!!! and my ... step mom step cousin sister in law??? Where's Miss Polaris, anyways?" "........ sister in law?!" "did she pussy out" "excuse me!?!"

"Byakuya" runs from the situation. ends up staying for a little bit in the same building (now very well renovated) where Kazuichi passed. Chihiro stays with Gundam and Sonia to try to ease the hurt of the past two weeks, where Polaris has been distant and cold with him, even forgetting and seeming much more like the man she was at hopes peak to her classmates than the woman he knows and loves

taka pulls the plug on his dad, who has sustained enough injuries that Taka can finally justify it. Takaki goads and eggs Taka into doing it the whole time-- heavy on the sarcasm; and Taka doesn't understand, just knows it hurts and is in a tone that other hurtful words have been delivered by. "go ahead!! you want daddy to save you all this damn time?! do it! you fuckin wont let me!" --Some people are not worth saving. He cries to mondo about it, how he didnt know he could do such a thing, that if his father was worth saving, why would he be? Mondo comes tothe conclusion that sometimes, saving someone is the bravest thing you really can do. sometimes, you're really lucky if someone else you love will look out for you. sometimes- the bravest and strongest way to save yourself, is to sacrifice a life that hurts you like no other. "he left you a legacy- that doesnt mean you gotta do soemthing stupid to get yourself to not take it. sometimes, you just have to say no, n leave it behind."

Syoko, well healed and still on the mend, getting information about what's going on with her old flame from her kid and her three weird "brothers"-- go out and find Byakuya. exactly where she thought they'd be.

"youre not supposed to be here. God why are you so ancient?!" "you looked in a mirror lately? plus this isnt foundation property and You need some serious help" ".. when did i get breasts?!" "five years ago." "how long have we been out of that school?!!" "about 7 or 8 years." "Why are you the rational one here, you're a serial killer!!" "formerly, yes. turns out that seven or eight years of therapy 5 days a week does wonders for hurt little kids who have to dissociate to be able to cope with the terrible things that were forced upon them" "..." "like being an adult too early, being sexually assulated multiple times, physical and emotional abuse, no friends, scars that serve as physical reminders-" "stop talking like you know me." "I was only talking about myself. if you saw you in those statements, thats not something I can control." "... I dont recognize the people I'm with." "yeah, that was another common one." "..what about suddenly showing up places you dont remember going?" "... yeah. that one too." "... I wanna go home, Touko." "End of the world, White Knight! Home is where ever you want it to be now. Where the heart is, as some novels would have you believe." "... can we hug?" "Not a single fucking chance in the world dipshit, I still know where arteries are and i WILL stab you if you try. I also have no desire to go anywhere near foundation grounds." ".. you can come back. you're... clearly doing much better." "are you going to remember you said that?" "likely not. I also dont remember how to get back." "how about I bring you back and i talk to your shrink?" "perhaps the best idea."

Polaris gets therapy for bigger and more pervasive issues, part 2 electric boogaloo. Her family becomes real, and central, and loves and cares about her. it's not a contest, anymore.

She goes to finally propose to chihiro. chihiro beats her to it out on the same date. they laugh about the rings.

everyone lives happily ever after.

[kiri-tired]

Kirito being a bit too happy about staying stuck in the Underworld (with Eugeo)....👀💖

Source: SAO Lycoris, Myosotis DLC story, prologue

Kirito blushes in here too....like, wow. Kinda sus right? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[tinyhistory]

hello! i hope you’re doing well. i had a question regarding your writing: how do you manage to be so descriptive? i absolutely love how vivid your stories always are; i never have trouble picturing any scenery in your works, like, practically ever. how do you know the names of so many plants? do you garden/are you a botany enthusiast? and did you have to read a manual on motorcycles for astra inclinant? currently reading that right now, by the way, and i think it’s so incredibly lovely.

Hello anon! So glad you’re enjoying Astra Inclinant 🥰

To answer your question:

R E S E A R CH. So much research.

When I’m writing, I don’t stop to fix things along the way. My descriptions are actually pretty flat. “He leaned against a tree, listening to a bird call,” I’ll write as I focus on the plot and dialogue. Later, during the editing process, I’ll go back and write in the proper descriptions.

So, for example, I’m editing Astra Inclinant and I come across the description, “James leaned against the tree,” and decide to fill it out.

Writing tips for descriptions below, if you’re interested —

1. Pick a theme

Let’s say this scene is occurring on the eve of James’s Hogwarts graduation. I want the scene to convey a sense of youthfulness, lightness, and optimism. I want the mood to be calm and happy. I need to include descriptions that subtly build on these themes. The sunshine streamed through the large leaves might be a pretty description, but it has few words relating to youth/light/happy. Whereas the sunlight played along green leaves has more subtle theme words: light, played, green.

2. Be accurate/specific.

This is the straightforward part: I research common trees and birds in the northern Scottish highlands in the June-July months, and narrow down the results. Oak trees are common, but they’re traditionally associated with wisdom and old age. Pine trees are common, but they’re tall and dark and tend to tower over the landscape. Similarly, crows are a common bird but they’re typically used as omens and are large, domineering birds. Hawks are predators. Pigeons are ungainly and more reminiscent of an urban setting. In the end, I choose an aspen tree (pale in colour, tall but not overbearing, slender but sturdy) and a starling (quick on its feet, small, energetic).

This is why the themes of the scene are important. You need to understand not just what you’re describing, but why you’re describing. Descriptions aren’t just decorations; they’re tools to build atmosphere and mood.

3. Make sure all the words match.

Something is still off with my description. I’ve got the specific bits (aspen, starling). I’ve got subtle descriptions of youth/light: young, sunlight, played, green, smooth, flitted, summer. I go through the whole description word by word, and end up stopping at a sentence I’ve written: the bark is smooth and soft as silk.

Soft just doesn’t work when describing a tree. And silk is a word associated with sensuality, indulgence, and luxury — none of which are present in this scene. I think of other options — delicate as tissue paper, or smooth as glass. But delicate and glass both subtly convey fragility, a chance of shattering, breaking, or falling apart — and I don’t want those associations in a scene that’s supposed to be happy and carefree. I spend a while thinking about the possibilities, and eventually settle on smooth and thin as parchment. This eliminates the ill-matched soft while parchment also subtly reminds readers of the setting — James is preparing for his Hogwarts exams.

5. Use all senses.

This is what helps make descriptions so vivid. Look at this description:

He closed his eyes, enjoying the cool shade of the tree. A warm breeze stirred the air lazily. In the distance, he heard the song of a blackbird.”

Compared to:

The tree was large and shady. The air felt warm and pleasant. A breeze briefly stirred the air. A blackbird sang in the distance.

Using senses also helps you avoid that dreaded ‘grocery list’ description: The tree, the air, a breeze, a blackbird.

6. Eliminate unnecessary words.

Most readers get bored very quickly with descriptions. Make it short. In the earlier (bad) example, you’ve got air repeated twice: the air felt warm and pleasant, and a breeze briefly stirred the air. This could easily be combined: a breeze briefly stirred the warm air. I see this a lot, including my own writing. Think critically about your descriptions and what could be removed or combined. You especially want to look out for those vague filler words, too. Pretty, beautiful, lovely, attractive. These words tell the reader nothing. Their idea of beautiful might be very different to yours. Instead, describe what makes something pretty or beautiful.

7. Use manuals and articles sparingly during research.

This is kind of separate from the other bits of advice, since it’s more about authenticity than description. But you asked if I’d read a motorcycle manual for Astra Inclinant — I didn’t, because a manual would have given me very wooden, formal-sounding examples of “motorcycle language”. Instead, I went into online forums to read the casual discussions between motorcycle riders trying to repair their bikes. This gave me very authentic, realistic examples of how people might think or talk during the motorcycle repair scenes. I used more formal sources to understand how motorcycles worked, but I drew on the forums for the dialogue and ‘feel’ of the scenes.

Anyway.

So you can see the thought that goes into word choice and descriptions. In a romantic world, I’d no doubt gaze dreamily into my imagination and then type out a perfect description. Whereas in reality, I begin with “James leaned on a tree” and then spend 30 minutes revising that and frowning at stock images of crows until I get to:

“James leaned against a young aspen tree, and tilted his head back as he listened to Scorpius talk. Beneath his fingers, the bark felt smooth and thin as parchment. Overhead, sunlight played through green leaves. A starling flitted from branch to branch.

He wished this summer would last forever.”

[halorocks1214]

the law of vibration

Word Count: 6113

Summary: The Law of Vibration states that everything in the Universe moves, vibrates, and travels in circular patterns. The same principles of vibration in the physical world apply to our thoughts, feelings, desires, and wills in the Etheric world. Each sound, thing, and even thought has its own vibrational frequency, unique unto itself

Previous Parts (in order): You are here! | Alan | John | Virgil | Scott | Casey | Kayo | Gordon | Penelope

im not entirely sure how accurate the avalanche is here but im going to blame google because i TRIED getting concrete information on how an avalanche sounds and looks like but essentially ended up with nothing outside a few details

also this series was a giant tag wall and i am very sorry for that. i recently edited the tags to be less beefy. nothing important was deleted, just unnecessary rambly ones

also also if it wasn't obvious this series is going to be updated slowly agsgsdfgsd (what gave that away i wonder). ill just leave this little blurb here as one last warning instead of being self-deprecating in the notes of every new one. i gotta be better about not being so harsh on myself, ya know? as always, i hope you enjoy! :D

cw for sad ending, character death, and natural disasters

"Have you heard the news? Little Lucille has a secret admirer."

Lucy rolled her eyes as she put her long, ginger locks into a ponytail at her desk, "It's hardly a secret when the guy keeps running into the doorframe whenever we're in the same room."

Chantelle squeezed her pillow closer to her chest, “C’mon Lucy, cut the guy some slack. It’s pretty adorable, all things considered.”

“Yeah, it’s not every day you get someone that is so infatuated with you that they act like a cartoon character!” Juniper laughed from the corner of the room where she was getting dressed behind a privacy cover, letting out a little growl like she was rolling her R’s, like one would when they were insinuating that something very adult was happening between two people.

Lucy stood up from her desk, refusing to look at her roommates, “Whatever, you two are ridiculous.”

Chantelle finally threw the pillow she was holding, but Lucy expertly dodged it in the process of falling into her own bunk. Chantelle scoffed, “Lucky.” Chantelle then proceeded to yawn as she fell backward to lie on her back and stare at the ceiling, “I don’t know about you, Luce, but if a rich somebody like that was giving me goo-goo eyes, I would be running and leaping into their arms before the new jet prototype could even break the sound barrier.”

Jeff Tracy, billionaire entrepreneur and First Man to set foot on Mars, acted like a silly goose just because she looked somewhat pretty.

“If anything, that should make you find this all stupider,” Lucy pointed out. “Guys like that always fall over themselves for trophy wives. I care way too much about myself to go down to that level.”

“Preach it, sister!” Juniper yelled, climbing the ladder on Lucy’s bed to get to the top bunk. “By the way, have the two of you heard from our new roommate yet? Shouldn’t they have shown up by now?”

Oh, right, that was happening tonight. They sent their last roommate off quietly with a nice dinner at her favorite restaurant. The pressures that came with rescuing civilians got to her, and she decided it was better to quit early than potentially risk lives. It was respectable, and no one judged her for it. Hell, Lucy might have even smacked her if she didn’t just go through with it because that was not a decision to be fifty-fifty on, especially not while active. She made sure to send pictures from her new job at a local mechanic’s shop occasionally, so they were all happy to see her joyful and well.

But that failed to explain who her replacement was. Swear to god, if they got put with some lazy slack off that was always late-

Light knocking came from their door, making them all sit up and stare at it. Then it slowly opened, and stepping inside was a woman with a duffel bag, her hair tied back at the top of her head in a short, frizzy ponytail. With reasonable assumption, that had to be their new roommate, showing up right on the dot. It was as if she personally heard Lucy gritching and appeared exactly then to make her shut right the hell up.

“Hello?” the newcomer said. “This is Room B509, right?”

“Yep!” Juniper immediately answered, moving so she could slightly hang off the edge of her bed. “I’m guessing that question means you’re our new roommate, yeah?”

The woman stepped inside and shut the door behind herself with one of her feet, “From what it sounds like, yes, I am.”

Lucy got up from her bed to walk over to properly meet the lady, “It’s nice to meet you. My name is Lucille.”

Lucy held out a hand for the woman to shake, to which the woman happily returned, “The pleasure’s all mine. I’m Valerie. Valerie Casey.”

“Ugh, you’re all so formal,” Chantelle groaned from her bed, turning over to sleep facing a direction away from them. “Stop caring about all that prim-and-proper horsecrap; we’re all gonna use the same shower anyway.”

Lucy rolled her eyes, giving Valerie an apologetic smile, “Sorry for my friend. That’s Chantelle. She gets cranky at this time of night.”

Chantelle grumbled, and it was just humorous enough to get Valerie to sigh fondly, “Don’t worry, I get it. I’m not all that chipper myself, right now. It’s no fun being uprooted randomly so the higher-ups can make last-minute adjustments to you and your roommates’ dorm.”

Ah, so that’s what this hullabaloo was about, “Yikes, that certainly sounds like no fun.”

“Hang on, did you say your name was Valerie Casey?” Chantelle had a lightbulb moment, interrupting their conversation and suddenly sitting up, very much not going to sleep. “No way, aren’t you besties with Jeff Tracy?”

Oh no.

Valerie cleared her throat, “‘Besties’ is a bit of a strong word, but yes. We are good friends.”

Chantelle smiled as if she figured out how to take over the world while Juniper placed her hands on her cheeks excitedly. “What perfect timing!” Juniper exclaimed, completely ignoring Lucy’s fervent headshakes telling her to knock it off. “We were just talking about him!”

Please no.

“Really?” Valerie questioned in a tone of voice that said she was challenging them to prove their words true.

Juniper giggled evilly, “You bet your bottom dollar we were! My name’s Juniper and your buddy pal friend amigo has got the biggest honking crush on Lucille over here!”

Uuuuuuugghhh.

However, Valerie seemed to be just as unenthused as Lucy was, “Ah, right. His little puppy-love moment he’s currently having.”

Lucy was caught off guard a little bit, “What do you mean by that exactly?”

“Oh, it’s nothing to do with you,” Valerie said honestly, walking over to the empty desk to get her stuff set up. “It’s nothing to do with him either, really, he’s a good man. It’s just that when you hear over and over again how he’s finally going to bite the bullet and finally approach her like a normal human being every day for two weeks straight, you go a little nuts.”

So Jeff was one of those types. Lucy wasn’t sure if that made the situation more relieving or more irritating.

“Did you catch that, Lucy?” Chantelle purred, now hanging off the edge like Juniper was previously. “Jeff’s a ‘good man.’ What’s stopping you from walking over to him right now and knocking him on his ass? Either physically or emotionally, but I won’t complain either way. Neither will he from the sound of it.”

Lucy made movements like she was going back to her bed, “Even if the man made a living off of rescuing orphaned kittens, that doesn’t mean I’ll magically want to-”

Someone knocking on their door interrupted them, making them pause and stare at it.

“Private Traile?” a voice came from outside. “Someone is requesting you speak with them over the phone.”

Valerie glanced over at her with sympathy, “Traile? As in Callahan Traile’s daughter?”

Who hadn’t heard of her father at this point? “Yep, and I’m guessing you’re already assuming who’s the one making the phone call by that alone, am I right?”

Juniper’s teasing gained an air of pain behind it as they all watched Lucy leave the room and shut the door, “Ouch. And tonight was going so well too.”

Valerie was about to receive what was hopefully the biggest tonal shift of her lifetime. Callahan Traile, while not one of the Founders of the GFD, did a lot to get it off the ground and be as big of a spectacle as it is today. It was no surprise the singular kid he had followed in his footsteps.

If only they realized it was less “following” and more “being walked on a leash.”

Once she was fully situated in a call booth that allowed maximum privacy, she took a deep breath as she stared at the phone. She felt her fingers strain as they bunched up her sleep pants between her knuckles, and it took everything in her power to not just rip the damn thing off the wall and pretend she was busy.

It would be worse if she ignored it, though, so with a lethargic exhale, she picked up the phone and dialed, “Hey Dad.”

For a moment, nothing came through the other side, and Lucy was about to sigh in relief and say tonight was just a false alarm, but then, “Lucille, I saw your recent simulation scores.”

Oh yay, straight to the point was the theme for tonight, “Yes, I’m aware I underperformed and already have plans to rectify it.”

She went from consistently receiving Top 5 scores to now having two weeks in a row where she got 12th and 13th respectively. Really, the whole situation was just one cycle of feeling bad. She felt bad about technically underperforming compared to her usual level, but then she would feel bad about feeling bad because she was still one of the top performers in the entire GDF, why the hell should she be groveling about needing to do better?

Clearly, her father didn’t see that.

“I would hope so,” he spoke matter-of-factly, “but to make things easier, I’ve already worked up some new training regimens for you to begin starting as soon as possible. You should get them within a few days.”

Lucy felt her face heat up from embarrassment, “Dad.”

He tsked so loud she heard it over the static, “No complaints. You should be thankful none of these were real scenarios. Can you even imagine the number of lives you might put in danger if you’re not at your best?”

Lucy could feel her fingers tighten, one set around the phone and the other around the edge of the counter, “Yes, Dad, I’ve thought about it in great detail.”

“Good, I’m happy we’re on the same page,” her father finished the conversation. “Now, it’s off to bed for the both of us. Next week is going to be rough, and I want you in tip-top shape.”

She took another deep breath, this one shakier much to her displeasure, “If that is all you needed, then I hope you have a good rest of your night.”

She could hear him fidget with whatever deceive he was calling with, “I hope you have a good rest of your night as well, Lucille.”

With the sound of the phone call abruptly hanging up ringing in her ears, Lucy shakily put the phone back into the receiver. Could she have one day that wasn’t somewhat of a nightmare? Turning around leaving the privacy booth, she-

Froze, because standing in the doorway staring at her was Jeff Tracy, who seemed to have the same amount of belief as her in terms of him being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Uh,” Tracy stammered. The booths were soundproof, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t see the almost-raggedy state she was in, “Everything… okay?”

Welp, it wasn’t like anything could get worse for her tonight, “Just family stuff. Having a bit of a tizzy at the moment.”

Tracy’s fingers fidgeted, like he wanted to grab something but since there wasn’t a thing to grab, he could only grasp the open air. Much like how he couldn’t find the proper words for this conversation, “Well, I’m sorry to hear that. It’s never fun fighting with your family.”

Fighting with your family, what a joke, “I guess you could call it that.”

She was tired, she was cranky, and not even Jeff Tracy being in the room prevented her from sitting down at one of the tables outside the booths for a moment of rest. She leaned back a little, silent and not giving Tracy any kind of attention. He was even about to shrug his shoulders and leave her to her business when she whined and pushed her wrists into her eyes.

“I’m just so sick of it,” she exclaimed to empty silence.

That is, until Tracy's voice sounded out, "Do you still want me to walk away or?"

Looking up from her hands, she was met with Jeff Tracy's concerned face. He seemed to be genuine, not creepily invested or anything. She could also just be tired as hell and exhaustion is ruining her decision-making skills.

"Probably won't matter," she decided. "I highly doubt you can change anything."

Jeff took slow steps forward, testing the waters and making sure he won't get bitten, before sitting down next to her. With the way she was positioned, it made it so he was mostly directly in front of her, "Well, having an ear to vent to never hurt anyone."

She let out a shaky exhale, rubbing her palms against her pants to get rid of the sweat on her palms, “Recently, one of my roommates retired from being a Cadet, and it’s making me realize that I may or may not feel a similar way. I think that this job is not something I’m cut out for.”

Jeff blinked, expecting there to be more that she wanted to say. When there wasn’t, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion, “Why? The job is incredible! You get to use all this amazing technology and even save lives-”

“That’s the point!” she exclaimed, not angrily. Just exhausted, “It’s so much pressure. It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t so constant, but it is and it’s gotten to be too much. I thought I could handle it at the start, and I did for a little, but now…” she drifted off, sighing, “It’s a lot.”

Jeff relented to that, “Fair enough. Then why don’t you just quit? They have systems in place for this kind of stuff, don’t they?”

She turned to give him an apathetic yet also displeased stare, “My father is Callahan Traile.”

No immediate response.

“Holy shit,” Jeff whispered before abruptly and loudly clearing his throat. “Right, right, but still, wouldn’t that make it easier? No one can tell his daughter no, yeah? Not unless they want an ass-kicking to Sweden and back.”

Lucy wanted to be irritated, she did, but she couldn’t quite get there. She could tell Jeff simply hadn’t had experience with an overbearing parent, which was a good thing. Fewer situations like hers were genuinely great, but, “He’s the reason I started this job in the first place. I always had a knack for athletics, and being his only child he obviously wanted to capitalize on it. Without consulting me, of course. Now I’m here, getting late-night phone calls from him that do nothing to help my high blood pressure levels.”

Jeff was finally grasping the picture, “He forced you into this career?”

All Lucy could do was nod, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders now that she was finally able to admit this to someone.

You could see the exact moment Jeff had a lightbulb appear in his head, “Oh, yikes, I never thought a man like him would become a parent like that. I would have hoped someone who looked out for others would know how to look out for their own kids, especially in a task as big as the GDF, but my mother always said I was a wishful thinker.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow, subconsciously appreciating being believed immediately without the need for extra explanation, “I’m surprised you’re against him. You’re an accomplished man, I would have thought that you would try to get your hypothetical kids involved in those accomplishments as well.” Why wouldn’t he? If she would admit to anything, it was that they were legitimately amazing feats.

“If they showed interest in my stuff, then yes,” Jeff said with no hesitation. “And if they were good at it too. If they didn’t care then I wouldn’t even think about trying. I’ve been in business for a long time, and after a while, you find that someone somewhat good at their job is just as good as someone who’s really good but doesn’t want to be there. There needs to be a balance, even more so in risky things like this and your father should be aware of this most of all.” He shook his head, thinking, “This needs fixing, starting with you.”

Wait, what?

Jeff looked back at her with the most serious look of the night, “Would you like me to try and get you out? Not for the GDF’s sake, but for yours. The whole point of this operation is to prevent preventable deaths, but that means jack all if they aren’t doing the same for their own goddamn people. What do you say, wanna give your father the biggest wake-up call of his life?”

Lucy was completely caught off guard by the direction this took, “Thanks for your concern, but I highly doubt anyone else is getting my special kind of treatment. We don’t need to make a big stink.”

Jeff shook his head, not accepting that answer, “That’s not good enough. Having one exception to these kinds of things leads to more and more until there’s so many that the rules were obviously not the important part in the first place. Besides, disregarding any safety violation or any other by-the-book reasoning, you simply don’t need to go through this. You don’t ‘deserve it,’ you don’t need to take it to save others, no nothing.”

Okay, Lucy had to question why he was so insistent about this now, “Sure, yes, I’m going to trust the man who’s been interested in me and is super theatrical since forever to look out for my best interests. I was already a good find, but now that you know I’m Callahan Traile’s daughter, I’m absolutely can’t-let-go material, right?”

“I promise, I swear on my career, that I am only doing this because it’s the right thing to do,” Jeff said sincerely, bringing his hands around to hold one of hers. “I don’t care if you don’t talk to me for the rest of our lives after this, I just want to make sure you have the same opportunities as everyone else does, and you can’t have that when you’re being forced into a life you don’t want.”

Lucy slowly started to believe him, but you couldn’t blame her for being pessimistic, “How do I know you aren’t just pulling stuff out of your ass?”

Jeff took a deep breath before choosing his words very carefully, “Back when I was in college, I had a nasty falling out with a friend. I’m talking ‘we never spoke afterward’ falling out. He disappeared for a few weeks, but I was still concerned about him, because I would have hated for him to have gotten hurt. Eventually, our dorm caught on fire, and with the help of some other friends of mine, we got everyone out. In that process, we learned our ex-friend was inside where the worst of the fire was, and that he was the one that set the place ablaze.”

Lucy gasped.

“But I still attempted to save him,” Jeff continued. “Because he needed to answer questions, because dying in a fire sounds awful, because he was still human and deserved a chance to live a better life the next day. I was able to get him out, but he disappeared again soon afterward. We haven’t heard from him since, and we only hope that it was to start a new life and not plan to try something so dangerous once more.”

Lucille stared at Jeff Tracy in silence, unable to say any words.

Jeff sighed after a few seconds, squeezing her hand reassuringly, “I have no way to prove this to you. For all you know, I’m just making myself out to be the big and grand upstanding hero looking for hot women to fawn all over me. The point wasn’t that. The point was that I think everyone deserves to be offered help no matter how I personally feel about them. Positive or negative, everyone needs someone in their corner.”

Lucy finally came up with her answer, “I believe you.”

Jeff blinked, “Really? Wait, that came out wrong-”

Despite the odds, Lucy found herself giggling, “Don’t worry, I get it. If you’re serious about wanting to help me, then I’ll take it.”

Now it was Jeff’s turn to be nearly speechless, “Are you sure?”

Lucy made a noise that was between a laugh and a cry, “At this point? Yes. I love my dad, I really do, but I don’t want to be ambitious like he is. I don’t have grand and upstanding dreams like he wants me to have. I want to just settle down somewhere, maybe even garden a little. The life where you can end up on the news every week is just so… intense.”

Jeff paused for a moment to fully grasp that he wasn’t being turned down. “That’s understandable,” he said genuinely, humming after as he thought hard about something. “Alright, I think I have a plan.”

Said plan included getting the two of them away from the GDF for a week on an unplanned vacation. Turns out, Chantelle might have had a point about having a rich person help you do what you wanted. She was never told the details, but she knew it had a lot to do with Jeff’s crazy amounts of “influence.”

“Is this legal?” she asked only when they were on a plane flight to Kansas.

Jeff chuckled as he leaned back in his seat, “Maybe not, but don’t worry. I made sure our places in the GDF were covered by people who would treat them with the highest level of care. I would never dip out on such an important job like ours for no reason, and especially not if I don’t have something to make up for my absence.”

Hmm, maybe he wasn’t the complete and total flaunty caricature she thought he was.

As for why they were going to Kansas for some reason, Jeff finally explained during the taxi ride away from the airport.

“Whenever I’m overwhelmed,” he began, “I always find that going back to my roots makes me feel better. Considering your ‘roots’ probably won’t provide the same feeling, I figured I could share.”

She was taken to an average-sized farm, surrounded by lush trees and beautiful rolling hills. Waiting on the porch was a middle-aged woman, blonde hair falling straight down to her shoulders. She held her arms open for Jeff to flop into them, “Ah, Jeffie, I was getting worried you were forgetting about me.”

Jeff grinned, leaning out of her hold, “Of course not. I’ve just recently gotten a little busy.” He gestured to Lucy, “Mom, meet Lucille. She needed some time off and I thought I would provide it.” He then turned to her, “Lucille, meet my mother, Sally. She’s been the one-woman-show running this operation of a farm for the past ten years.”

Lucy finally felt comfortable enough to walk up the steps to stand on the porch, holding her hand out for Sally to shake and instead getting met with a giant hug. In any other scenario, Lucy probably would have sweep-kicked her assailant. However, this time she simply hugged back, and not just because Sally was an older lady.

“It’s such a joy to meet you,” Sally said, breaking the hug but leaving her hands on Lucy’s shoulders, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Huh?

Before Lucy could ask about that, Jeff cleared his throat obnoxiously, “Well, I do believe both of us are tuckered out from the flight. If you don’t mind, I’ll show Lucy her room and then order dinner. How do you feel about that one Mongolian place we enjoy?”

With that, Lucy was shown where they would sleep and given takeout food unlike anything she had ever tasted. A few days into her stay and a missed call from her dad, Jeff elaborated on his plan a little more. Lucy was already okay with staying at his place, but hearing extra details never hurt anyone.

"Obviously, your father can't do much now that you're an adult," he elaborated, "but I do worry his level of influence and power won't help in making your life easier. I figured if he wanted to risk getting petty, not only would he be overstepping your authority as an adult-"

"-he would be going after you, a random person who doesn't have the excuse of being a family member," Lucy finished.

Jeff smirked, "If he wants to come onto our property to talk, then, by all means, he better be here to just talk. Any more than that and he has the threat of a lawsuit bigger than the entire GDF, and knowing him he's smart enough to not try anything on that level."

Lucy knew deep down that her dad wasn't that bad, but she also knew that every day he was getting more unpredictable. Maybe it was selfish, but it was nice to finally feel like someone was willing to put their life between hers and her father's. Especially at a time like this.

Eventually, more missed calls came into play, and Lucy realized that if she wanted this to be finished she would need to put her foot down. She agreed to meet at a neutral location, a local bar in town. She hoped that being in public would be the last little bit of influence her dad would take into consideration to keep things civil.

Throughout it all, Sally and Jeff stood by her side.

Sally stayed out in the car while Jeff went into the bar with her, never overstepping into what was her fight. She never truly realized just how much she appreciated his silent but present support. He was standing slightly behind her and her booth as she hashed it out with her dad once and for all.

She always wanted to go back to that bar and ask the regulars what it must have been like seeing Jeff Tracy and Callahan Traile in the same room.

"-s out of character for you!" Her dad thankfully kept it civil, but not calm, "You've been nothing but well trained since forever, and now all of a sudden you get a rich boyfriend and everything has gone kaput! I was hoping when you found someone, it wouldn't be a sleazy money bag who-"

"You don't understand a single thing about this situation," she found herself getting more offended on Jeff’s behalf than her own somehow. "Jeff Tracy is a good man who offered his help after I realized I was getting tired of your antics, nothing more, nothing less, which you might have understood if you had ever taken ten seconds out of your day to ask me how I feel!"

(If she turned around at all during the convo, she would have seen a flustered Jeff, not prepared to hear someone call him her "boyfriend" so abruptly.)

She preferred not to think about much of that week anymore. All she knew was that she was able to scrounge up enough respect (or at least pity) from her father to loosen the reins. She agreed to finish out her stint at the GDF because she liked the job, just not the constant pressure, and then her father would back off. She would be free to continue her life however she wanted.

Her father would sometimes reach out to her, which she appreciated, but ultimately their relationship stayed strained. Too much worry about things going back to being the way they used to be prevented her from fully closing the gap. It was unfortunate, but she supposed that's how life tended to be as well.

Once she and Jeff went back to work, she was surprised to find herself missing him. He stayed true to his word, not demanding anything from her as some kind of "payment." He was genuine in his want to help her at most and leave it at that, though he did wave hello at her when they occasionally crossed paths.

He was a funny guy and had lots of stories to tell and advice to give. She didn't have many friends outside her roommates, and the week she spent at the Tracy Farm convinced her that she wanted more. So she ended up being who sought him out. It was mind-boggling to the other Cadets, that stone-faced Traile was actively wanting to hang out with dorky Tracy. What could she say to that? He was nice. Certainly, she made exceptions like this before?

It wasn't until Chantelle gave her a look and Juniper said "Eyo, honey, I thought you said you would never like him" did Lucy finally have her oh moment.

A few weeks into their blooming bud of a relationship, Lucy still wasn't sure what was more of a surprise: her being the one to initiate their first kiss, or Valerie being the only one that believed she would eventually and excitedly agree to put a ring on her finger.

---

A lifetime of hearing babies and children cry led to Lucy absolutely hating the sound.

But now, here on her and her husband’s farmhouse? It was possibly one of the best noises ever. A sweeter medley than even the most talented of orchestras could play.

Because the one making the noise was a pudgy little thing, just born into the world thanks to Lucy’s determination and her mother-in-law’s assistance. If you asked Lucy all those years ago that she would give birth to a healthy baby boy, then she would have given you the stink eye, assuming you were trying to flirt with her. Not that she didn’t want to, but considering her circumstances at the time, you couldn’t blame her for being less focused on that particular dream compared to others.

“Welp, now that the hard part is over,” Sally sighed, wiping her head with her forearm, “I should go and get that giddy son of mine in here to help you out with the rest.”

Lucy sighed happily, vaguely listening to Sally get up and leave the room. She was too busy focusing on her brand new baby boy in her arms and getting him to relax. With careful rocking and motherly shushes, the baby’s sobs slowly petered away into simple sniffles.

She somehow managed to achieve quietness right as rapid but gentle footsteps made their way into the room, followed by a man’s voice, “Oh. Oh wow.”

Lucy smiled, still looking at their son, “Glad to see you finally join us. I was starting to think you were having second thoughts.”

“Well, forgive me for knowing my strengths and weaknesses,” Jeff playfully retorted back, “and realizing I would not be the best at handling childbirth and didn’t want to hurt you or the baby.”

Lucy rolled her eyes as she felt a chest press against her back, and it was here she finally glanced away from the baby for the first time so she could turn and press a kiss to her husband’s lips, “You could never hurt me.”

Jeff leaned into the kiss with a grin before breaking off, letting Lucy go back to staring at their son. He would be lying if he said he didn’t want to stare a little bit either, “He’s beautiful, Luce. You did an amazing job as always.”

Suddenly, taking both their breaths away, was the baby opening his eyes for the first time. A radiant blue color absorbed their attention completely. Lucy cooed, “I’m struggling to think of what to name him. There are just too many choices.”

Jeff reached forward so their new son could reach out and blindly grasp his finger, “I was thinking something like Malcolm.”

A moment of silence.

“Absolutely not,” Lucy decided.

Jeff sputtered, “What? What’s wrong with that?”

Lucy shook her head fondly, but her eye roll did have a hint of annoyance, “I heard you talking to your mother a few weeks ago about your ideas on the naming convention for our family. I’m sorry, but Malcolm is a name I refuse to touch with a ten-foot pole.”

Jeff, instead of being chastised, smirked, “So you’re saying that you’re not objecting to naming them after famous astronauts?”

Lucy huffed, almost indignantly refusing to answer that question. “You know, Scott would be a nice name.”

Another moment of silence.

“Yeah, that does sound nice,” Jeff agreed. “Welcome to the world, Scott.”

Lucy knew her husband enough to easily picture the full name. Scott Carpenter Tracy, the newest addition to the family bloodline.

“He has your eyes,” Lucy quietly pointed out.

Jeff hummed, “He kind of does.”

Lucy made a similar hum, “So are you just going to steal all the ‘they look like you points’ from me, or will I get a turn?”

Jeff laughed, shaking his hand a little, making baby Scott gurgle happily, “Don’t worry, if we have another, I’ll make sure you’ll have your moment.”

“I think you mean when, Jeff,” Lucy corrected.

Jeff froze for a second before lightly shaking his head, unable to comprehend how he got so lucky to have her in his life, “Of course, honey. When the next one comes, which I may or may not be looking super forward to, they’ll be sculpted exactly to your liking as much as you want.”

Lucy loved the sound of that.

---

“You two need to calm down,” Lucy tried to play the diffuser. Quietly, so she didn’t wake Alan—who she was holding—from his much-needed rest. The moment he gave her his puppy-dog eyes combined with his flushed cheeks from his fever, well, she was always soft toward her children.

Scott and Gordon were hanging out, having fun playing a board game, when it seemed like Scott brought up the small elephant in the room that was Gordon’s feelings toward the newest Tracy. Now the two of them were locked in a glaring contest only to be interrupted by their mom. Scott was indignant, “But it’s been three years! He needs to get over it!”

Lucy giggled, “I seem to recall you feeling a similar way toward John when he was born.”

Scott immediately became chastised, and Gordon’s grin way more smug.

“Scott does have a point as well, though,” Lucy reasoned. “Sweetie, I don’t know how many times I need to say it, but a new baby in the family doesn’t mean you’re being replaced. Look at all your brothers before you; we didn’t stop giving attention to Virgil when you were born, did we?”

Gordon puffed his cheeks and crossed his arms, “But what if it’s different?”

Lucy sat down next to Gordon on the couch, sandwiching him between her and Scott, “Different how?”

“I don’t know!” Gordon exclaimed. Then, he was much quieter, “I don’t know. I just feel like it will be.”

Lucy pulled him in closer, carefully adjusting Alan so they each took up one side of her, “I know Alan was a surprise for all of us when I found out I was going to have him, I get that there were some life-long plans we had in mind that we needed to readjust when a sudden fifth came along, but you know your mom and dad are experts at handling surprises, yeah? Things are different, but nothing is new. We are the Tracys, we are a family, and no one gets left behind with family.”

Gordon let out squeaky laughs as she pinched his cheek and playfully pulled, and it was hard for Scott to not smile at the sight as well. However, something felt… off. He looked around, and when he was able to put his finger on it, he asked, “Hey, mom? Do you hear that?”

Lucy paused and proceeded to do the same sort of prairie dog movement as her son. She lifted her head and glanced around the cabin. At first, nothing came across as weird or wrong, and she was going to try and soothe Scott’s worry, but then her ears finally caught the vague noise of rumbling. Things in their building seemed to vibrate more and more the longer she stared at them, and it was with sudden, horrifying clarity that she realized what was about to happen to her kids.

She turned back to them, and the last thing she saw was her two sons looking at her with fear, “Boys-”

A lot of it was cold, a lot of it was dark, but at the very least, she was able to take comfort in a voice telling her that her kids would be taken care of and kept safe.

[tozettastone]

Re: SI Healer; big mood! I wanted to have a go at writing something like that because funnily enough, I DO know how to do sewage and electricity because of my job&major, and could write it accurately, but the problem is both I have zero time because electrical engineering major and the plot would swiftly become 'infodump about how to use magic to cheat at making transistors so calculators can be made' and a psa about wearing masks when sick and how a toilet works so plotting out the actual plot when ive kicked it in the pants like that so I dont get stuck and abandon it would be hell lol. Its so hard to find fics where people materially fix public health/living standards and such like that. There was one DA SI story where a SI invented toilets I saw, and a few people tech germ theory to a select few people, but thats it. Where are the farmers talking about soil PH theory, the engineers remaking electricity and sewage systems and steam boats, the therapists reinventing therapy and teaching it to the masses? Its such a shame because a well done 'fix this fantasy hellhole from the ground up' would be so fun to read with a good plot, but alas, very few takers on it.

This is re: this post .

Oh that sounds like an interesting course of study! I hope you enjoy what you're learning. I think that "fixing" a whole world would be a hard sell even if you could possibly have a character who had that kind of depth of expertise—it is hard to be the kind of polymath who can reinvent therapy AND build the London sewer system AND invent soil pH testing etcetera etcetera, right? Especially from a modern world, where each of these things is the sum of so much trial and error and knowledge. It's always interesting to find a character that's really invested in one relatively narrow area, I think.

EDIT: CUT FOR LENGTH

Further to my previous thoughts about the healer-type, I also think there's a tendency for narratives about fixing the fantasy hellscape world to lean very... paternalistic? Like, presumably we write about a setting because we enjoy aspects of it! So a fic that seeks to completely erase those aspects and bring the setting into alignment with an ideal modern world is also not so interesting to me. For example, in such settings as a dragon age si/oc fic, it would be important to me that the character was able to explore the possibilities of things unique to the setting like darkspawn (and red lyrium, and all things blighted), runes, spirits and magic—not just for the fixing of things (eg., using a lightning rune for electricity) but as innate factors that interact with other things, creating their own complications. So in this setting, maybe a hypothetical OC would have to think about: * Public health interventions you'd have to come up with that are super specific to darkspawn blight, or to spirits? * Can you get eg., v cholerae that's been blighted? How does that alter how pathogenic it might be to humans? * Are there fade touched microbes and do they need a completely different public health approach—can you still kill many of them by eg., boiling water? What do you do if you can't? * Are there diseases only gotten by humans or elves or qunari? Have they been used in biological warfare? Are they STILL being used? Oh dear. * Can a demon haunt your kitchen garden, and if so, what happens to your produce—does it make you sick? Does it make you better? * What therapies would we be thinking of for the dementia-like illness brought on by lyrium abuse? (Do any currently exist?) * When we talk about waste management, what does that mean in a setting where the dead are commonly possessed REGARDLESS of if they're burned to ash or not? :| * Are there interventions that we, in the modern world, might regularly use to our advantage that would interact badly with Thedas's setting in some way, and what kind of interesting cascade of fuck ups can we build from that? Those are just off the top of my head, of course, but it would be interesting to see how, instead of "brought medicine to the poor ignorant masses, didn't encounter novel problems, now I, a complete foreigner, can tell them how to fix their entire world," if we could see more... interesting, creative interactions between ideas. I know that's not necessarily what people want to get out of this kind of fic, but it's what I want to get out of this kind of fic! If there's none of that weird setting-related stuff, then there should at least be challenges getting other characters on board, in my personal ideal permutation of this story (so, not for everyone, of course). I don't want to see every single character agree with a self insert/OC's new ideas, haha. I agree with you that there are many unexplored aspects fic writers could bring to an si/oc fic in any given such fantasy setting, which would be interesting to explore! And, for what it's worth to you, if you somehow read this far, I think there's definitely a subset of readers who would enjoy this kind of "setting fix-it" OC based around infodumping electrical engineering. You'd have to turn your comments off when you got bored and stopped writing, but some people would for sure like reading it! You'd have whole reddit threads of people criticising your knowledge for sure. :) People really really like that kind of fic! (Although

they also do like to complain about that kind of fic haha.)

[comfy-whumpee]

Whumping Safely 101

Many people in this community have mental health problems, face various types of discrimination, and have complicated relationships with some parts or types of whump. In particular, I aim this at people who care about the experience of survivors and others with triggers – partially because I am an abuse survivor who often flirts with triggering content as part of my love of whump.

Keeping your blog safe is difficult, takes effort, and is never a perfect process. But as the community grows and grows, it’s really important that we hold ourselves to a high standard. I would argue that this is a responsibility of all content creators, but especially those of us in the messy playground of whump.

I’ve got three sections in here: content warnings, writing with care, and community interaction. I’ve tried to make it navigable. It’s about 1.8k words. Shorter than a lot of drabbles! I welcome good-faith criticism on this topic and further questions on my own views.

Content Warnings

The biggest responsibility, in my opinion, is empowering your reader to make their own decision on whether they want to expose themselves to your writing. This also happens to be by far the easiest way to help people whump safely.

What to warn

This is a big and ever-changing topic. Some things you should warn for as a rule of thumb are anything NSFW, pet whump and box boy whump, drugs and alcohol, medical and hospital content, graphic gore, intimate partner violence, and animal harm. It can be tricky to draw the line of what counts – what needs a warning? If you’re in doubt, just warn it anyway. It doesn’t hurt.

If someone requests a trigger be warned for, even if it’s something that feels obscure or tame, show compassion and agree to the request. This is someone who cares enough about being able to read your writing that they wrote in! They want to be able to read it and enjoy it. You’re being complimented.

Otherwise, look at what other blogs tag for. You’ll see some variation in styles and levels of detail, but it’s a good way to gauge what people think is warn-worthy, when we’re often writing stuff that would already be R-rated in mainstream media.

Read Mores

The easiest way to make sure people don’t see your triggering content is to use a cut. Tumblr is not a very functional website and likes to delete cuts, but a cursory check of your posted content will usually tell you whether it’s worked. With asks, cuts are very spotty, so don’t be afraid to post an ask response separately with a screengrab of the original question. People often then respond to the ask itself with a link to the post, especially if it’s a whole drabble. Tumblr is weird and bad so just do your best.

Content notices

I.e., a quick summary before the drabble, usually in bold, to state what will be coming. I like to distinguish between using content notes (CN) and trigger warnings (TW) to indicate severity. Others might use the old phrase ‘dead dove do not eat’ to indicate this is a heavy piece, and often you will see qualifiers like ‘intense’, ‘mild’, ‘mention’, ‘referenced’ (i.e. it is discussed but not actively happening), and ‘implied’ (as the opposite of ‘explicit’). I’ve also seen a couple of people use ‘vibes’, which is a really nice way of demonstrating that it’s there, but not the focus. A quick paragraph like this, or just a line, lets people make a quick risk assessment on their reading.

This is also important if you’re sending in asks or requests to people. If you want to ask about something triggering, send an inquiry first about whether the blog is okay to hear it.

Tagging

Tagging is a chore, but it’s your primary way of warning people about your content. The main benefit of tagging is that you can be as detailed as you want, because can be tagging for content in general, not just triggers.

In a best case scenario, you’d tag the kind of whump you’re doing, tag triggers, tag characters, and even your ‘verses, because tagging is your index for your blog. If you tag reliably, you help your future self and your readers find stuff, and you also make your blog really dang safe. People who have unusual triggers can blacklist tags, and will pick up on your content tags to help them.

Don’t just tag your own writing. Tag your reblogs, tag your prompts, tag your asks. Yes, edit your asks to add the tags. Tag your images and gifs. Tag your images as images and your gifs as gifs.

If you aren’t up for detailed tagging for whatever reason, just tag for triggering content, and add stuff to that list if you’re asked to. My usual technique is to make a mental note of tags while I’m formatting and editing before posting.

Be aware that your first five tags will be used in search results. If you’re using tags that are associated with kink too, such as ‘shibari’, you might want to rethink your tag order if you don’t want interaction from those blogs. Also think about what tags might come up in non-whump contexts, such as ‘collar’ or ‘PTSD’. Some tactics for getting around this I’ve seen are adding ‘whump’ after the content or writing the tags in past tense (i.e., ‘collared’).

It is also a good idea to watch out for when you might be reblogging something whumpy that is intended as kink / porn / fetish, especially in images. Tagging these as spicy / nsfw / kink is a sensible move.

Writing with Care

Okay, now for the harder stuff.

I mean here to lay out some guidelines for how to write in a way that helps your reader build good faith. This is a much more nuanced topic, and it’s different for everyone. There will always be differing opinions on what should and shouldn’t be written about, what a good depiction of a sensitive topic is, and how to discuss that topic. I tried to strip this back into absolute basics that I hope we can all agree on.

Maybe your whump involves abuse. Maybe it’s gaslighting. Maybe it’s severe mental health problems, or addiction, or slavery, or you write about or analogise real-world issues. Whump deals with the dark stuff, and that’s a big part of its appeal. But don’t ever forget you’re writing the dark stuff.

(Try to) Know what you’re doing

Some of us play fast and loose with plots, medical accuracy, worldbuilding, and other things that get in the way of the pain we crave. This is all well and good, but when we start using whump that speaks true to people’s lived experiences, we shouldn’t be careless with it. I’m particularly talking about things that get represented poorly in mainstream media, such as abusive relationships, issues around marginalisation, mental illness and disability.

Be critical of media that you’ve consumed. Think about how its depicted things that you want to depict in turn. Look for opinions on fictional representations of those issues. Be aware that you might be more ignorant of things than you realise.

Look at how others are writing these issues, particularly if they’re writing from a perspective different to yours. If you haven’t personally experienced what you’re writing about, e.g., if you don’t have PTSD and you want to depict a character who does, seek out stuff written from or with experience. Listen to the experts.

If you’re looking for stuff about representation specifically, I recommend this collection of posts about ‘Braving Diversity’ cultivated by Writing With Colour, who are in themselves a fantastic resource for this topic, and have recommendations for other blogs that deal with intersecting issues.

Listen to others

Missteps are inevitable. Nobody is perfect. If constructive criticism is offered, that’s also a compliment to your writing. Someone read your work and thought about it, and thought you’d care about improving it. They’re offering themselves as a resource for helping you see your work in a new light.

Criticism is hard and sometimes hurtful, but even if we don’t think it’s accurate, there’s often a grain of truth in it. If someone tells you that your writing is harmful, think about why they’ve said that, not whether or not they’re correct. This is an opinion! Opinions are subjective! But what drove someone to send that in?

You don’t have to respond to all your criticism and definitely don’t respond straight away. Being respectful to those who are trying to help you means taking the time to consider it properly. Sometimes, they don’t need a response. Others, you might want to learn more about what they think before deciding. You might have already discussed the topic, in which case, you might just want to reblog your previous posts.

If it’s sent in bad faith or is outright hateful, you’re well within your rights to just delete it and move on. You might get the same criticism over and over again, and that’s exhausting, and you don’t have to retrace your steps for everyone.

But if it’s new, even if it puts your hackles up, you can always stop and wonder why someone felt that strongly about your work.

Take a step back

One of my better-known characters is a pet whumper who conditioned his victim to adore and depend on him. It’s not always easy to represent how deeply messed up that is within the text – though I think that’s part of the challenge – but in meta-commentary, I am always describing him as a creeptastic bastard lacking compassion and self-reflection. I hope to always give the reader the confidence that I know just how wrong it is.

This is a really simple thing you can do just to give readers good faith in you. Show that you know what you’re writing is dark and messed up. Show your understanding for the issues you’re handling and that they’re complicated. It might seem self-evident, but when you’re writing the really dark stuff, or unhealthy relationships, or institutionalised whump, you can inadvertently create the impression that you just think it’s fun. The fact that it’s fiction does not automatically absolve you. Show that you care about doing it right.

Community Interaction

I’m going to keep this one short and sweet because I will almost entirely be preaching to the choir here.

Be polite to others. Imagine saying what you’re saying to their face.

Don’t send anon hate. Just don’t. If you can send criticism off anon, do so.

Nobody is obligated to interact with you.

Nobody is obligated to monitor their own reader base.

If someone says do not interact, do not interact.

If someone says do not interact, why they’ve said that is none of your business.

You don’t need to spread the word about someone’s bad politics.

Ask yourself if your input is needed, or if what you’ve said has already been said.

You don’t have to take a side.

Take care of yourself. Take breaks. Remind yourself that whump is a small part of the world.

That’s all from me, folks. Stay safe.