#idk. it feels More. more than setting ships on fire more than talk of maiming more than stabbing and jokes about eating each other

[arsenicflame]

sorry im still thinking about the toe thing, about how permanent it is, how purposeful it felt.

ed must have had hours to think about it, and he still decided on disabling his first mate, stopping him being able to do his job properly. no matter how impared his thinking, it wasn't a spur of the moment thing. ed has to have had a reason why he decided this was the course of action he would take over any other.

no matter what happens next, things will never ever be able to go back to the way they were before.

the crew can forgive ed for marooning them, and izzy will still be disabled

frenchie and jim can forgive ed for the kidnapping, for the inevitable trauma, and izzy will still be disabled

stede can buy a whole new ships worth of things, and izzy will still be disabled

izzy himself can forgive ed for what he did, recover from the psychological impact, but he will still be disabled

they can grow old, have adventures, retire, but nothing will bring back izzys toe

[boystownbirdie]

LMWTV4U: GOT S7E6

Welcome back to Let Me Watch TV 4 U, the blog where I watch TV for you! Tonight we’re talking bout Game of Thrones season 7 episode 6, “Beyond the Wall” aka Disney Presents The Walking Dead on Ice! Let’s jump right in to this icy abyss, shall we?!

SPOILERS AHEAD!

We open on a curious panning across of a map, and no I’m not talking about the opening credits. It looks like the giant map/table in Dragonstone? 

However we quickly cut to our Eastwatch crew...

...who are marching one by one further and further North. We’ve got Bae, (the artist formerly known as) Stoney, New-Thor (let’s just say Thor, shall we? He’s not so new anymore), Gingerbae, Gingerbun, Eyepatch, the Hound and approx 5 rando nightswatch dudes and/or wildlings who are doomed because no backstory = dead first.

First, we get some ice-breakers (sorry can’t stop won’t stop) when Thor tells us he’s never even seen snow before and I’m like bb boi come here to Chicago I’ll show you some midwestern winters! Thor is also still feeling a little salty toward Eyepatch and Gingerbun for selling him off to the red witch while the Hound keeps score and is like, Thor you didn’t really have it so bad. Gingerbun hands Thor the olive branch in the form of a flask.

Meanwhile, Gingerbae asks Bae about Khaleesi and Bae is all coy but GB sees right through that. Gingerbae helpfully reminds us that he still loves Brienne of Tarth (aka Ladyknight) very much.

Bae and Stoney swing their swords around (not a euphemism) and Bae tries to give his huge fancy sword to Stoney since it belonged to Stoney’s dad. Stoney is like naw, it’s yours man, give it to your KIDS. And we’re supposed to be thinking, whoa! Is Bae on the market for marriage/kids? Cuz sign us all up! Later Eyepatch tells Bae that Bae doesn’t really look like Ned Stark which, duh, cuz we know Bae is Ned’s nephew. But also Bae’s bio-dad was Khaleesi’s bro and apparently had silver-white hair like her so WHERE DID BAE GET HIS LEWKS FROM? Heaven, apparently.

Before we get into the meat, pun intended, let’s pop into Winterfell, shall we?

Sansa and Arya discuss gender roles and Arya tells us a tale of their dad, Ned Stark, sort of tacitly approving of her being a fighter rather than a lady. And then she’s like, speaking of, dad was killed by the Lannisters with YOUR help, Sansa. Arya brings up the letter she found last week that poor bb Sansa was forced to right by QPC and is not happy about it. And Sansa is really caught off guard but also like STEP ALL THE WAY OFF, I have been THROUGH IT. They argue about the past few years and who’s had it the worst but also as Leslie Knope would say, uteruses before duderuses, ya know?

Later, Sansa is talking to Littlefinger, who set up all this nonsense anyway and he’s like well Ladyknight can be your referee since she lurves both of you? But then Sansa sends Ladyknight away to King’s Landing to be her proxy in this upcoming summit with QPC. Towards the end of ep, Sansa decides to do some snooping of her own a la Arya last week and finds Arya’s suitcase full of faces from the face-swapping-assassin-training-academy which Arya dropped out of after a misunderstanding with a professor who wanted her killed. Sansa is like srsly, WTF? And Arya explains the face-swapping thing which sounds crazy the first time you hear it, but so did dragons and we got them now so all’s fair, right? Arya grabs a knife and basically threatens to cut Sansa’s face off but then hands Sansa the knife and scoots outta there. So at the end of the day, no Stark-on-Stark crime this week but stay tuned!

We pop in to see Khaleesi and Tyrion chatting by the fire…

She’s like, you know what I like about you? You’re not brave. And he’s like umm thanks? And then she’s like all of my fave bois are brave but stupid and she includes Bae on that list. And T is like, so you’re taking a liking to him, eh? They discuss strategy and have a little tiff wherein Khaleesi again questions T’s loyalty. And then he’s like btw, you said you can’t have kids so...who gets to be in charge when you die? And she’s like let’s cross that bridge when we come to it, and he’s like it’s called a LIVING WILL for a reason, babe.

Back North of the wall...

Bae and Gingerbae spot a bear but they’re like, that’s weird… he’s got blue eyes-ahhh zombie bear! Zombie bear kills one of the no-name/ no-backstory guys (like we care!?) and maims Gingerbun. Eyepatch smartly cauterizes the wound with his flaming sword while the Hound is too busy having PTSD about fire. Really unfortunate to be afraid of fire in a world without electricity, huh?

Bae and Gingerbae spot a small crew of ice zombies and decide to take one of them prisoner. During the scuffle, Bae kills a leader-ice-zombie and suddenly all of his pals drop dead too. They find out that you kill the leader, the rest die too- good to know! But in capturing their prisoner-zombie, his squeals seem to alert the 5 million other ice zombies to their location and next thing you know, the crew is about to be trapped. Bae smartly tells Thor to run back to the wall and tell Khaleesi the scoop. Poor Thor has to give up his hammer before he leaves so that the rest of the crew has more zombie-smashing tools.

SOMEHOW, I still don’t understand the logistics of it all, but Bae and crew get stuck on this little island surrounded by a frozen lake. The 5 billion zombies surround them but can’t walk further into the lake without falling in. It’s a real pickle. Luckily, Thor does make it back to the wall to tell No-Knuckles to send word to Khaleesi.

Speaking of Khaleesi, that raven flew fast because she already got the scoop. She is DECKED OUT in her cold-weather best and is heading North to save the day with all 3 dragons. Tyrion is like BAD IDEA HUN but she goes anyway. While Khaleesi flies like the actual wind on her #1 dragon, poor Gingerbun has succumbed to his injures or maybe freezes in the night and is no longer with us. So, much like Rose must let go of frozen Jack (but why does she say “I’ll never let go” as she is literally letting go? I’ll never understand the word choice), Eyepatch has to burn Gingerbun’s body before he becomes a zombie too.

Sidenote: Why didn’t everyone bring weapons made of dragonglass or valyrian steel? We know now that only these 2 things plus fire kills the ice zombies and Bae just mined heaps of dragonglass from Khaleesi’s basement for this very purpose. Sometimes I think I should be the King in the North, ya know!?

But back to the battle, the Hound decides to skip stones across the lake like an idiot, which leads the ice zombies to learn that the lake is frozen solid again. Now that the zombies can cross the lake, they attack the crew and they are VICIOUS. Bae and co retreat to another little island but are completely surrounded and basically dead. Bae is tweakin’ out probably thinking about what a bad idea all of this was, when all of the sudden, Khaleesi’s dragons have landed!

They all fly around burning up ice zombies by the hundreds and narrowly missing our crew. After Khaleesi successfully wipes out a good number of zombies, she lands to let her priority boarding pass holders on dragon #1 with her. Meanwhile, Bae is still fighting off some zombies. The #1 in charge ice zombie aka the Night King, throws a giant ice spear at #2 or #3 dragon (honestly idk, let’s say #3) and makes it on the first try. It’s sad that #3 gets speared and all but I’m kinda like wow nice shot. Dragon #3 falls into the icy water and sinks and Khaleesi is weepin’ about it.

At the same time, Bae is now fully overrun by interloping zombies and this FLIGHT IS ABOUT TO DEPART, honey! He falls into an ice-hole and Khaleesi sees the Night King winding up his ice javelin so she has to go. I know what you’re thinking, wow Bae is super dead, right? He fell into a frozen lake whilst being attacked by zombies. WELL YOU ARE WRONG.

Bae crawls outta that ice hole, grabs his fancy sword, and starts walking. Soon enough the zombies see him walking in a non-zombie-like fashion so they are on it. BUT Bae’s uncle Benjen (who is pretty much the only person whose relationship with Bae is unchanged by his whole bio-dad and bio-mom thing!) rolls up on his horse with his incense-swinger! Uncle B saves Bae (remember Uncle B saved Bran last season?) and sticks him on his horse, but stays behind to fight off zombies with his incense-swinger. Bae, who is like 65% Leo-from-Titanic-frozen at this point, heads back to the wall.

The rest of the crew are back at Eastwatch and we learn that the Hound is the one who’ll be bringing the “sample zombie” back to show QPC. Khaleesi is watching from the top of the wall to see if Bae makes it back while Stoney is like, let it go, he’s dead, I’m alive and recently not-Stoney...when suddenly Bae rides back to camp.

On the ship back to Khaleesi-ville, Khaleesi sees Bae on the operating table and notices that he has a stab-scar on his heart. Remember when Bae died and then got brought back to life but then Bae has been super secretive about it? Well the secret's out babe! She watches him being warmed up/revived and sits there watching him sleep for awhile #gottaenjoytheview. When he wakes up (still topless!) he’s like wow I’m so sorry #3 dragon died this was a horrible plan. And she’s like no, I’m glad I saw the army of zombies. I will fight with you, Bae.

And Bae is like wow, also I know I said I wouldn’t kneel to you but honey, I will. Then he calls her Dany and she’s like...eww...my creepy bro used to call me that. And he’s like well then I’ll just call you MY KWEEN. And I’m like yassss gaga. Also they hold hands. Also, she’s like I can’t have kids, ok?!? So just… cards on the table. They hold hands some more and it looks like we might get a little kiss but naw, she’s G2G.

In our last scene, we see thousands of zombies working together (good for you! teamwork!) to pull dragon #3 out of the frozen lake. The Night King walks over and touches him and BAM! ZOMBIE DRAGON. SHIT IS GONNA GET REAL.

Let’s recap:

Biggest surprise this ep: Uncle Benjen? How did you know Bae was in this part of town?

Biggest letdown: I wanted more witty banter from Thor! Also, enough with the will-they won’t-they, GoT. This isn’t Cheers!

Important fashion moments: Khaleesi’s Wintertime Fantasy Realness was GIVING ME LIFE. THAT. COAT. 

Who died this ep? Gingerbun, a lot of ice zombies, Uncle Benjen (although he was kinda already dead?) and dragon #3. RIP Gingerbun I will miss being confused-ly attracted to you.

Thanks for reading! Tell your friends and subscribe!?

[cyberstabbing]

Sci-fi/Dystopian future/Danger Days/idk

Heaven’s Not About Your Reputation - Desolation Row AU. The Tipper Laws have consumed the nation; more and more freedoms are being restricted every day. After getting thrown in jail for causing a riot with their illegal punk show, My Chem decides to do the logical thing: cause even more trouble. 28k

In Repair - "Shit,“ Frank mutters, and shoves both hands through his hair. He looks around the kitchen like he’s gonna find what he should do scratched into the old linoleum, then looks back at the bot. He gnaws on his lip. Fuck it. He already knows what he’s gonna do. He’s just gotta do it.

Getting down on his knees, he braces a hand on the edge of the crate and leans over the bot. It’s dressed in a plain white tee and matching drawstring pants like an escaped mental patient. Frank rolls his neck and cracks his knuckles, shaking the ache out of them before carefully laying his palm against its cheek. He’s pretty sure his voice is steady when he says, "Activate.”

Nothing happens. Fucking shitty packaging– the thing’s busted. But Frank keeps his hand where it is, jumping a little when he feels the surge of energy beneath it. The robot’s skin goes from room temperature to lukewarm, then warm. Frank watches it open its eyes, the light behind them adjusting until they’re a pale sort of brown. It looks at him and asks, “Am I dead?” 33k

sing it for the n00bs - Gerard would be killing twice as many dracs right now if his fucking spacebar would quit sticking. (Gamer AU, wherein the Danger Days universe is an MMORPG.) 17k

I was rereading this on a bus in France with my stepsister. She asked me what I was reading and I just squirmed around in my seat. So she shouted “FANFICTION??” And I was like … Well, I mean, yes–but hear me out!! And so I told her about Danger Days, the Killjoys and the whole gamer au concept.

She actually thought it sounded pretty cool. Or maybe she just wanted me to quit gushing about it and leave her alone.

The point is, if someone who just heard a second-rate description of this fic still thought it sounded interesting, that means it’s HELLA RAD. And it is. So. Read it.

The Way They Fly - Frank is a robot. He is in love with his genius creator, Gerard, who doesn’t realize that Frank is capable of real feelings. Frank starts breaking down, getting ill, and Gerard doesn’t know what to do to fix it - all his methods are completely useless, none of the programming explains why this is happening to his Frank - but it’s because Frank has a broken heart. 17k

Of Another Kind - Gerard is an alien on a mission–to find a human mate on Earth. He’s decided on Frank Iero, but his database doesn’t give him all the facts he needs to win over his future companion, and there are just some things he will have to learn on his own. 17k

Let The Darkness Lead You Home - Vampires are in charge and most of the humans on earth are prey, so Frank Iero’s parents have him train as a cyber tech to protect him. Leaving the family he’s born into may have saved his life, but his parents never could have expected the lengths he’d go to in order to find a new family to call home. 49k

The Chasing of Moons - The biggest dilemma in all of this is that Frank slept with his future husband. Now Frank’s just got to make sure that the future with him stays intact, but it’s not so easy when present day Gerard seems to hate his guts. 110k

Might I Have a Bit of Earth - Gerard took things. He didn’t used to take things; he used to ask before, say please and may I and other things his parents taught him, because that was what you did. You didn’t just take. 14k

Space pirates :D !!

Are You Broken? (from the Robot!Gerard series) - Frank gets sick and Gerard doesn’t understand. <1k (the series is 7k)

Lovely Way to Burn - Frank is no stranger to sickness. He’s been wheezing his way in and out of hospitals since he was a kid, but things are different now. He was already pulled from two assignments due to illness, and the third time is the charm. Three strikes and you’re out. 4k

video girl - This is a space AU that has more random worldbuilding than actual porn in it. In which Frank wanders into a virtual sex video booth. 1k

Reaching Through The Mirror - The one where Party Poison and Basement!Gerard have sex. 5k

(part one of Time Travel ‘verse)

James Cameron Got It Wrong - In which 2005!Frank and Fun Ghoul get it on. Then Frank accidentally winds up in 2019. 56k

(part two of Time Travel ‘verse)

yoooo i just found some really really REALLY good fanart. .. unbelievably good. and six years after the fic came out! that’s amazing!! anyway, here it is.

EDIT #2: found some more! Man, that fic just keeps giving.

EDIT #3: Damn it, the artist’s blog (second one) is marked as having “sensitive content”, so I couldn’t view it anymore on this account. So here is the post reblogged on a sfw blog for y’all youngins, and here is a screenshot juuust in case the sfw blog deactivates and that link stops working, too. 

The Science of Sleep - It’s 2011 and Frank Iero’s life is pretty average until the night where he starts getting dreams about a strange, apocalyptic California where there’s rayguns, grey corporations and terrorists who use art and color as a weapon. Interesting and fun at first, but the more he dreams about this world, the more he starts to wonder if it really is a dream… and the deeper he gets into this futuristic world, the more it seems to affect his life in the present day.

And just how exactly does everything all seem to link in with that douchebag black-haired artist who sits in Starbucks every day?

(Set in the Danger Days world but not necessarily following the cannon established by the album and music video’s.) 93k

Killjoys Never Die - No description. 2k

i want to die i want to die i want to die

Up Against Your Will (HERE is the chapter index) - Stepping into a world so different from their own, Frank and Gerard struggle to survive. 18 chapters

this was amazing, but also hard to read in some parts, bc of the non con and gore :/ not my cup of tea, but I did love the word building and the fic overall.

Fogs, Sheets and Thunder - Not as grey as it seems. A post-apocalyptic postal service AU. 5k

And ze art!

​The World Famous Extraterrestial Diner - Sure the menu had a picture of literally everything in it, causing the menu itself to be ten pages in total, but that was for the foreign visitors. And not just the ones from other countries, according to the owners.Gerard worked at a diner located directly on the famous ‘extraterrestrial highway’. The pictures were more for if any actual aliens ever came by Earth for a good meal and couldn’t speak English. They had the pictures to see exactly what was on offer. Even the beverages had their own separate pictures.Not that they had had any extraterrestial visitors since, like, ever. 8k

Born to Motorbabies - Here's the thing with having a crush on a mysterious DJ; it's kind of an inconvenient place to hang your affections. 12k

The person who’s rec list i snagged this from (can’t remember who, sorry!) added “​affectionately referred to as the dishwasher fic” which is v cute so I’m putting it here too.

...the weapon - Tattoos are one of the ways they measure out the time between getting ghosted. Inspired by Art is... 0.2k

Code Red - In the fall out of a fire fight, Party Poison goes looking for medicine, and finds pretty much the exact opposite of that. 2k Ship: Party Poison/Korse

Workplace Appropriate Attire - Korse is a creepy boyfriend. 1k

Ship: Party Poison/Korse

This was fun to read, but some lines made me go OH SHIT, because ...... well if you read this you will know what I’m talking about.

We Got Machines - There are questions on the lips of everyone with eyes or money on the arena. Who is this kid? Where’d he come from? Who trained him? BLind’s got no records on him, meaning he’s a Zonebrat returning to the grasp of the city of his own volition. Another anomaly. That a 16 year old nobody could waltz in out of nowhere and turn the system on its head is... concerning to BLind. <1k

Part 1 of KJ/Griefers 'verse (3.5k in total)

Ship: Deadmau5/G3rard

xoxoxoxo - Party Poison wakes up somewhere he's never been - but there's plenty that's familiar here. 1k

Ship: Party Poison/Korse

Looking for Satellites - Galaxy-hopping alien trader Gerard has business on space station Perseus Four. Getting to know station administrator Grant is a nice bonus. 25k Ship: Gerard/Grant Gerard is a sexy, telepathic and open minded (heh) alien and it’s great.

the only hope for me - Korse has never been one to show his emotions. 1k Ship: Korse/Party Poison

your kicks don't hit, so we remain the same - a battery city ambush goes somewhat wrong. korsepoison. 0.8k Ship: Korse/Party Poison

Methane Skies - Run, run, bunny, run. 3k

Hot damn this is some creepy and suspenseful stuff. Ship: (implied) Korse/Party Poison

mutilate, maim and destroy (just a tad) - For clarification, this fic is about Gerard Way the actual person being tortured by Korse in the Killjoys universe. Like. Hnng, you'll see nevermind. Ship: Gerard/Korse

A Room Full Of Suicides - His jaw was clenched and his whole body quivering. He looked right at Korse with those huge, transparent eyes. “Do what you want to me. I don’t give a shit, Korse.” He drew in a breath that shook. “You wouldn’t understand. It’s about standing up for what you believe in.” God, the kid was adorable. Korse couldn’t wait to make him scream. 4k Ship: Korse/Party Poison, Fun Ghoul/Party Poison (implied)

Of All the Places in the Universe - Gerard, an alien with a severe case of anomie and wanderlust, crash-lands in Jersey while traveling the galaxy. A chance meeting with a creature his studies had told him didn't exist leads to a surprising turn of events. With time, Gerard comes to call Earth home, and finds love with the adorable punk who found him--Frank, an energetic puppy of a werewolf who's really more bark than bite. 30k

"You know The Smiths?"

Gerard grinned. "Oh, yes! They're one of my favorite Earth bands."

Thank You For The - Just an alien in New Jersey, looking for a mate. 0.5k Ship: Gabe Saporta/Mikey Way

"Have fun," Gerard said, even though he'd just told Mikey he couldn't have fun because he needed to be careful. Mikey wished his venom sacs were fully developed. He would spit on Gerard's shoes.

Double Exposure - “The worst part was the confession. Well, the explanation sucked too.” Written for prompt 38. Frank/Mikey - Frank and Mikey bodyswap during tour and have to play shows as each other. 2.5k

Frank isn’t part italian in this fic. He’s part alien! :D Ship: Frank/Mikey

[ezzydean]

IDK IF UR TAKING FIC PROMPTS RN LIKE FEEL FREE TO IGNORE THIS BUT CLD U DO A SEIKISUSOU KNIGHT AU??? IDK WHY I SUDDENLY REALLY NEED THIS PAIRING TO BE A THING,,, ESP IN A KNIGHT AU WHERE THEY FIERCELY PROTECT EACH OTHER IN BATTLE IDK IM SORRY

I really have no idea how long this has been here in my inbox.  But I am finally getting around to doing some of my 20+ prompts again.  Thank you for this and don’t be surprised if this au pops up again cause if there is one thing I love it’s ships whose members battle side by side and kick ass together and fiercely protect each other.

also SeiKisuSei

(it’s about 1300 words so don’t forget to check under the cut)

“I’ve told you a million times,” Seijuurou hisses through his teeth as he blocks yet another attack.  They’re not very precise attacks but they hit hard and he’s growing wearier by the blow.  “Stay out of danger.”

“You’re so dramatic.  It hasn’t been a million times.”  Kisumi spins on his heel and slams his palm against an armor clad soldier’s chest plating, grinning wickedly when it turns molten under his fingers and melts into the enemy’s chest, sending him to his knees in howling pain.  “Maybe fifteen.  This week,” he adds as he ducks under a spear and launches a bolt of white hot fire at the man who threw it.

Sousuke sweeps in then, shield bashing enemies left and right until he reaches them.  He takes one look at Seijuurou’s sweaty face and Kisumi’s wild eyes and lets out a groan of disgust.

“The rest of the troops have wiped out their rear guards and archers all that’s left is for us to clean up this lot.”

Kisumi looks over the group of enemies spread out around them, far fewer than he expected really, and grins.

“Leave it to me.”

He sucks in a deep breath and everything around them grows grey, Kisumi’s magic sucking the very color out of the world as he plucks and twists and pulls the threads only he among them can sense.  The hair on Sousuke’s neck stands up and he braces his shield against the ground, readying himself for the slaughter.  Seijuurou’s eyes slip shut and he leans his back against Sousuke’s.

The metallic taste in the air and the sizzle that wrenches through their very bones haunts Seijuurou for weeks.

Kisumi, Sousuke thinks, is far too charming even on a bad day, completely charismatic on a good day, and downright dangerous no matter the day.  He tried to explain one time that he and Seijuurou just worry about him and want to keep him out of harm’s way; harm’s way which finds Kisumi with an accuracy that is unnerving and a persistence that would wear down the most patient of saints and Kisumi revels in it.  Kisumi had told him that he just likes hitting people and watching their faces light on fire and that he is very good at what he does and doesn’t need them to worry about him so much.

“Watch your own asses instead of mine,” he had joked.  “The last thing I need is to lose either of you because you’re too worried about me.”  Then he had buried his talented fingers in Sousuke’s short hair and pulled him into a kiss that made him forget what they were talking about in the first place for awhile.  He still holds Kisumi’s slender frame tight against his broad chest that night, still traps Kisumi in a tight embrace that makes the mage smile and nuzzle against Sousuke’s throat.

The battle had not been one of the better outcomes.  Seijuurou’s small unit of the… not really main brigade material members and their sudden arrival thanks to one of Nanase’s hunches had been the only thing that had really kept their casualties from reaching one hundred percent.

He looks around at the numerous medic tents set up, knowing that each one had far too many wounded and far too few medics, and pinches the bridge of his nose.  Sometimes he wonders just what the hell they’re all doing here.  If he was a smarter man he would take his unit, take the only thing of his family he has, and head into the woods at the base of the mountains.  Kisumi wraps a cool hand around the back of his neck and he looks into purple eyes that hold the mysteries of the night sky and the wonders of the sea and everything in between.

“Oh thank the gods a mage,” a nearby medic interrupts them and Seijuurou pulls himself out of oblivion and shutters his expression.  There’s no need to shoot the already frazzled medic a look of irritation that would only make his life even harder.  “We’ve got tons of wounded soldiers that need help.”Kisumi glances down at his light battlemage armor - which is really just normal light armor that he’s pieced together himself and modified over the last year - and then looks around.  Looks behind himself and then over Seijuurou’s shoulder.  Then looks back at the medic with wide eyes and points to himself.

“Me?”  Seijuurou has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from snorting.  Especially when the medic nods eagerly and tries to reach for Kisumi’s elbow to lead him towards the nearest medic tent.  Kisumi waves his hands in the air easily avoiding the man’s touch.  “Oh no no no.  Yeah no.  I’m a mage but I’m more of a death and destruction, light stuff on fire kind of guy.”  He wiggles his fingers around and makes a few grand gestures.  “Not a set broken bones and do the glowy healing thing kind of mage.”  He grimaces and shudders a little, licking his lips like he just tasted something horrible and lingering.

“He once got a splinter in his finger and cried for two hours because it hurt.  He’s really not who you’re looking for.”  Seijuurou smiles apologetically and urges Kisumi away from the medic with a hand on his lower back.

“You forget,” Kisumi whispers menacingly, “that I can knock you on your ass in less than five seconds in hand to hand combat without even a drop of magic.”

“Oh no.  I remember.”  Sousuke grins and hefts Kisumi over his shoulder.  Kisumi notices the flicker of discomfort on his face but is too focused on not letting Sousuke launch him into the icy lake to be able to say or do anything about it.  It’s time like these that he almost wishes he could do more than rain destruction down on fields.  That he could nurture and heal as well as he could maim and destroy.  His shrieks and curses ring out through the clearing as Sousuke keeps trying to throw him into the lake and he clings on for dear life and it only takes a minute for Seijuurou to stumble out of their tent, bleary eyed and sleep ruffled to watch the show.

“You two could be in the tent.  Warm and cuddling with me and this is what you’re doing instead?”

“He was having a crisis,” Sousuke explains.  “So he needed a wake up call.”

“Throwing me in a freezing lake is not a wake up call.”

Sousuke looks back and winks and Seijuurou who shuffles a few steps closer.  Then Sousuke rolls his shoulders and twists his arms and Kisumi is sailing through the air.  The water splashes dramatically as he hits the glassy surface, giant waves and sparkling mist flying up and just hanging in the air.  Kisumi is standing in the center of the main splash and glaring at Sousuke, eyes glittering dangerously through the water.

“You can do amazing things, Kisumi.  You’re not all death and destruction and fire,” Sousuke says softly.  He looks pointedly at the water slowly finishing its rise into the air and shifting back into gravity’s embrace.  It really is a beautiful sight.  Seijuurou is mesmerized by the light sparkling through the droplets hanging in the air and the slow ripple of the water from Kisumi’s feet and the equally sparkling light shining in Kisumi’s eyes and slow relaxation of his entire body.  Then everything shifts back into normal speed and Kisumi falls backwards into the water.

“I think you broke him.”  Seijuurou wraps his arms around Sousuke’s waist and buries his face between Sousuke’s shoulders.

“We’re all a little broken,” Sousuke replies.  Kisumi’s head pops back to the surface of the water and he blow bubbles petulantly until he runs out of breath.  Then he submerges his head and pops up right away, shaking water from his hair as he wades back to shore.  “That’s what makes us work together so well.”Kisumi plucks at his soaked shirt and grumbles at them about it until Sousuke sighs dramatically and offers to help him remove it.

[couchcushings]

5, 13, 14, 29

5. since how long do you write?

Oh lord like idk since I was 12 really?? But long before that little Chelsea was dreaming stuff up and telling herself stories at bedtime.

13. hardest character to write

*sideeyes bram van helsing* Uh well someone has been causing me writerly trouble lately but overall I have more trouble with my OCs because they start to get wildly OOC from how I designed them. The little bastards.

14. easiest character to write

I have this weird thing where if I listen to someone/read them for long enough I can hear the words with their voice. Which is apparently A Thing. But at one point the answer was Dr. Miguelito Loveless because he had such a unique dialogue style that it was hella east to just hear things in his voice. Right now? Golly, right now it’s probably one of my OCs but most recently it was HM Murdock.

29. favorite story/poem of another author

Right now I’m hella into Lovecraft like I’m literally typing out one of his stories so I can get the feel of his heady-ass unnecessarily purple-as-fuck prose. It makes my head hurt if I don’t hydrate adequately before I read it. Favorite story by him is, currently, The Statement of Randolph Carter because it’s so short and perfect and it has a gr8 ending. My favorite poetry is by Stephen Vincent Benet and I’m just going to link you to some because otherwise I’ll talk about it all night. And I’m leaving my favorite piece of poetry by him under the cut because it’s hella long.

INVOCATIONAmerican muse, whose strong and diverse heartSo many men have tried to understandBut only made it smaller with their art,Because you are as various as your land,As mountainous-deep, as flowered with blue rivers,Thirsty with deserts, buried under snows,As native as the shape of Navajo quivers,And native, too, as the sea-voyaged rose.Swift runner, never captured or subdued,Seven-branched elk beside the mountain stream,That half a hundred hunters have pursuedBut never matched their bullets with the dream,Where the great huntsmen failed, I set my sorryAnd mortal snare for your immortal quarry.You are the buffalo-ghost, the broncho-ghostWith dollar-silver in your saddle-horn,The cowboys riding in from Painted Post,The Indian arrow in the Indian corn,And you are the clipped velvet of the lawnsWhere Shropshire grows from Massachusetts sods,The grey Maine rocks--and the war-painted dawnsThat break above the Garden of the Gods.The prairie-schooners crawling toward the oreAnd the cheap car, parked by the station-door.Where the skyscrapers lift their foggy plumesOf stranded smoke out of a stony mouthYou are that high stone and its arrogant fumes,And you are ruined gardens in the SouthAnd bleak New England farms, so winter-whiteEven their roofs look lonely, and the deepThe middle grainland where the wind of nightIs like all blind earth sighing in her sleep.A friend, an enemy, a sacred hagWith two tied oceans in her medicine-bag.They tried to fit you with an English songAnd clip your speech into the English tale.But, even from the first, the words went wrong,The catbird pecked away the nightingale.The homesick men begot high-cheekboned thingsWhose wit was whittled with a different soundAnd Thames and all the rivers of the kingsRan into Mississippi and were drowned.They planted England with a stubborn trust.But the cleft dust was never English dust.Stepchild of every exile from contentAnd all the disavouched, hard-bitten packShipped overseas to steal a continentWith neither shirts nor honor to their back.Pimping grandee and rump-faced regicide,Apple-cheeked younkers from a windmill-square,Puritans stubborn as the nails of Pride,Rakes from Versailles and thieves from County Clare,The black-robed priests who broke their hearts in vainTo make you God and France or God and Spain.These were your lovers in your buckskin-youth.And each one married with a dream so proudHe never knew it could not be the truthAnd that he coupled with a girl of cloud.And now to see you is more difficult yetExcept as an immensity of wheelMade up of wheels, oiled with inhuman sweatAnd glittering with the heat of ladled steel.All these you are, and each is partly you,And none is false, and none is wholly true.So how to see you as you really are,So how to suck the pure, distillate, storedEssence of essence from the hidden starAnd make it pierce like a riposting sword.For, as we hunt you down, you must escapeAnd we pursue a shadow of our ownThat can be caught in a magician's capeBut has the flatness of a painted stone.Never the running stag, the gull at wing,The pure elixir, the American thing.And yet, at moments when the mind was hotWith something fierier than joy or grief,When each known spot was an eternal spotAnd every leaf was an immortal leaf,I think that I have seen you, not as one,But clad in diverse semblances and powers,Always the same, as light falls from the sun,And always different, as the differing hours.Yet, through each altered garment that you wore,The naked body, shaking the heart's core.All day the snow fell on that Eastern townWith its soft, pelting, little, endless sighOf infinite flakes that brought the tall sky downTill I could put my hands in the white skyAnd taste cold scraps of heaven on my tongueAnd walk in such a changed and luminous lightAs gods inhabit when the gods are young.All day it fell.  And when the gathered nightWas a blue shadow cast by a pale glowI saw you then, snow-image, bird of the snow.And I have seen and heard you in the dryClose-huddled furnace of the city streetWhen the parched moon was planted in the skyAnd the limp air hung dead against the heat.I saw you rise, red as that rusty plant,Dizzied with lights, half-mad with senseless sound,Enormous metal, shaking to the chantOf a triphammer striking iron ground.Enormous power, ugly to the fool,And beautiful as a well-handled tool.These, and the memory of that windy dayOn the bare hills, beyond the last barbed wire,When all the orange poppies bloomed one wayAs if a breath would blow them into fire,I keep forever, like the sea-lion's tuskThe broken sailor brings away to land,But when he touches it, he smells the musk,And the whole sea lies hollow in his hand.So, from a hundred visions, I make one,And out of darkness build my mocking sun.And should that task seem fruitless in the eyesOf those a different magic sets apartTo see through the ice-crystal of the wiseNo nation but the nation that is Art,Their words are just.  But when the birchbark-callIs shaken with the sound that hunters makeThe moose comes plunging through the forest-wallAlthough the rifle waits beside the lake.Art has no nations--but the mortal skyLingers like gold in immortality.This flesh was seeded from no foreign grainBut Pennsylvania and Kentucky wheat,And it has soaked in California rainAnd five years tempered in New England sleetTo strive at last, against an alien proofAnd by the changes of an alien moon,To build again that blue, American roofOver a half-forgotten battle-tuneAnd call unsurely, from a haunted ground,Armies of shadows and the shadow-sound.In your Long House there is an attic-placeFull of dead epics and machines that rust,And there, occasionally, with casual face,You come awhile to stir the sleepy dust;Neither in pride not mercy, but in vastIndifference at so many gifts unsought,The yellowed satins, smelling of the past,And all the loot the lucky pirates brought.I only bring a cup of silver air,Yet, in your casualness, receive it there.Receive the dream too haughty for the breast,Receive the words that should have walked as boldAs the storm walks along the mountain-crestAnd are like beggars whining in the cold.The maimed presumption, the unskilful skill,The patchwork colors, fading from the first,And all the fire that fretted at the willWith such a barren ecstasy of thirst.Receive them all--and should you choose to touch themWith one slant ray of quick, American light,Even the dust will have no power to smutch them,Even the worst will glitter in the night.If not--the dry bones littered by the wayMay still point giants toward their golden prey.