#just one more chapter guys!!!

[sheepibum]

Title: a constellation of blood drops

Summary: Tekkadan decides to salvage Gaelio’s mobile suit for spare parts; turns out that the most useful one is the pilot. To the dismay of everyone involved.

i | ii | iii | iv | v |

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

VI. nulla dies umquam memori vos eximet aevo (no day shall erase you from the memory of time)

Gaelio has been preemptively regretting having to talk to McGillis about this ever since the last serious conversation he had with Mikazuki. It has made him miserable, but at least he’s prepared when the man boards the Isaribi and makes time to speak with him.

He clears his throat from the dread filling his stomach and forges ahead, because he made a promise, damn it.

“How much do you remember about the laws regarding polygamous marriage for a member of the Seven Stars Families?” is what he says.

Predictably, McGillis turns toward him with a smile that could cut glass.

“Oh? Are you planning that far ahead already?”

Gaelio does his best to shrug without wincing.

“Say, if I were to marry all members of Tekkadan, would they be recognized as free citizens of the Earth Sphere?”

And Gaelio will tell himself later to mark this day on his calendar, because it’s the first time he has managed to surprise McGillis into howling with laughter until he’s a writhing mass of humanity curled up in a ball, trying to fit his fist into his own mouth to hush the sounds he’s making.

“There is...” He gasps, still shaking. “There is a limit to the number of... consorts an heir of one of the families is allowed to have.”

Gaelio sighs; of course there is.

“Less than—” He does a mental calculation, the whole of Tekkadan plus whatever relatives they may have, plus the pastry sisters might be too big of a stretch; he probably would have to make do with the most vulnerable younger members; “—fifty?”

McGillis snorts, but it is good-naturedly and his eyes are still bright. It’s a good look on him. Makes it a bit harder to remember that Gaelio will never forgive him.

“Try twelve.”

“Damn.”

“Yes,” McGillis nods, his smile sharpening in way that is impossible to ignore. “However, there are no laws that limit the number of children an heir of one of the families can adopt to ensure the survival of their House and Legacy.”

Gaelio doesn’t ask is that what you father did? but he thinks about it, and that’s bad enough. Regardless of their past, they are here now, working toward a common goal, and that goal involves making sure that the members of Tekkadan have a life waiting for them when this conflict ends.

“Thank you, McGillis.”

“You’re welcome,” McGillis honest smile is becoming a more common sight these days, but it still manages to punch the breath out of him every time. “But you were also right, should you choose to marry, your spouse would be recognized as a free citizen of the Earth Sphere and part of one of the families.”

“That’s... good.”

“Yes, I suppose Mikazuki Bauduin has a nice ring to it.” And then, because he’s a bastard, he adds: “However, I must remind you that your family will ask you to provide an heir, so you should discuss the topic of surrogacy with him before that.”

It is entirely possible that McGillis is trying to rile him up, but really, they grew up in the same social circles and he should know better. Gaelio has already thought extensively about that.

“That shouldn’t be a problem, Miss Atra seems already determined to carry his children and there is no requirement for the heir of the family to be blood related to me.”

McGillis stares at him gob smacked and Gaelio mentally adds another exclamation point to the mark that he will put on his calendar. He has surprised him twice in less than twenty minutes, surely that is some kind of record. Next thing he knows, McGillis is laughing so hard that he’s in pain and Orga bangs into the door threatening the two of them to behave and don’t make me come in there like an angry mother.

What even is his life.

★

There is no point in pretending that Mikazuki would choose him above everyone else vying for his attention, but those vying for his attention will at last have to recognize that it would be a convenient union. For all involved.

“Four spouses is well within the limits, isn’t it?”

“The Turbines have been a terrible influence on you, Gaelio. But yes, four is a very respectable number, especially so if the point seems to be to ensure an adequate offspring is produced... But four?”

“... Mikazuki should be obvious.”

“So it is, but he is also the choice that would be most contended.”

McGillis doesn’t need to clarify what he means; not only is Mikazuki another man, and a much too young looking one to boot, and that will be enough to get tongues wagging, but he is also from Mars, and not even a citizen but a Human Debris. He has the stigma of the Alaya-Vijnana system quite literally impressed upon his skin. He has no family ties that could offer any sort of advantage financially, politically or otherwise, although the reputation of Tekkadan should at least assuage those seeking advantage in military affairs. He is also, and the thought alone stings, disabled when not plugged to the Barbatos. He is quite possibly the worst choice of a partner he could make. There is no one else he wants more, is the thing.

Atra is little better, and she reminds him too much of his own sister to treat her as anything else, but he could pretend for all of their sakes. Mikazuki would not leave her behind, and Atra would not let Mikazuki go anywhere she wouldn’t be able to follow, so accepting her has been an unavoidable choice.

“Mikazuki and Miss Atra, then, I understand, but the other two?”

Gaelio explains his next choice, making no effort to hide how much it pains him to do so.

Kudelia is a possibility, both a best-case and worst-case scenario at once. On the one hand, a union with her would be glaringly obviously beneficial in all the ways that matter to the remaining members of the Seven Stars, on the other hand, she is as infamous as she is popular and the ideas she fights for haven’t exactly endeared her to those who wish to protect the status quo. He would have to tread lightly when presenting his intentions, but if she cares for Mikazuki, and he knows she does, she would have to accept that the protection offered by his lineage would be an invaluable asset.

“Alright then,” McGillis winces, and it’s a wonder that he has stopped wearing his mask at all times around him. “And the fourth? Orga?”

Orga Itsuka loves Mikazuki in a wholly different way, but he would never accept to marry Gaelio for his sake, pretense or not.

Gaelio sighs, exasperated.

“Hush Middy, at this point I think is accurate to say that I would need a crowbar to pry him off Mikazuki.”

(Orga comes banging at the door not five minutes later, after one of the younger members of Tekkadan goes and tells him that McGillis is being murdered in his own room and is dying quite loudly.

“I swear to god!” Snarls Orga, when he slams open the door, although he doesn’t believe in any higher beings.

“That’s just how he laughs, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Make him stop!”)

★

McGillis is no longer laughing, but there’s a small smile on his face that makes it seem like he’s no longer Atlas, burdened by the weight of the world and its sins.

It is with that same smile, but cold, cold eyes that he turns to Gaelio and speaks once more.

“You’ll have to make sure they survive the war, then.”

Gaelio catches himself before nodding, the tone of McGillis voice so mild he could have been talking about the weather. This is not something they have discussed before.

“War?” The word leaves his chest like a ragged exhalation, and McGillis looks sorry for him.

“... I’m sorry, Gaelio.”

Sometimes, McGillis makes it too easy to remember that he should hate him. That he does, sometimes.

“What have you not told me, McGillis?”

McGillis closes his eyes and begins to talk.

★

“That was your plan?” He sneers, in spite of himself, once McGillis is finished. “That was—that was your plan, that was it?!”

McGillis opens his mouth to defend said plan, be he needn’t have bothered. Gaelio has no intention of letting him speak.

“What were you going to do if they didn’t accept your command?! What made you think they would take a look at a Mobile Suit and submit just for an obsolete law?!”

“It the Gundam with the soul of—”

“It’s a Mobile Suit, for fuck’s sake! A children’s story!”

And oh, isn’t that a revelation. The way McGillis jaw snaps shut, against the cruelty of the world that insists on shattering the ideals he holds most dear? A fairy tale with brave knights that are able to save the world with a feat of valor, of strength?

This world is not so kind.

(Had he always been so naive? Or had he, like Gaelio, chosen to blind himself to whatever threatened the hope he had managed to salvage for himself?)

No, this world is far too cruel for a man like him. He can almost justify still caring for him.

“I always thought you were the smartest out of all of us,” he says, because he still loves this man like a brother, but he hasn’t forgiven him and probably never will. “I’m glad to see that is not the case.”

And then—and then he dares and places his hand on McGillis shoulder, a ghost of a touch.

“I’m sure we can come up with some other plan, between the two of us. Just in case,” he adds, because he doesn’t want to see the hope crushed in his eyes again.

“Yes,” McGillis smiles. “Thank you, Gaelio.”

His real smile is a thing of wonder, so different from the usual, controlled upturn of his mouth than Gaelio learned to associate with the man that it changes his whole face, makes him looks years younger.

Gaelio has to swallow down the bitterness in his throat. This is what he means. So many years, and he never noticed he had been living a lie. He hadn’t wanted to notice, he just wanted the comfort of having his friends, his upper-class life, of not wanting for anything.

He has to go to the Barbatos after that, and for the first time he’s the one who pulls Mikazuki against him and holds him there even though Mikazuki protests that he was practicing his writing. This world is far too cruel. It has taken far too much from the people he has come to care about, and he can’t help—he can’t help but think that it’s not over yet.

★

Given the latest revelations, Gaelio has had no choice but to (once again) come to the same, sad conclusion he’s been trying to forget in this new lease of life: ultimately, he cannot trust McGillis.

Hell, he can only barely trust himself. In all honesty, given that he was born and raised in the same cesspit as McGillis and Catra and Iok fucking Kujan, he shouldn’t trust himself at all.

Unfortunately, circumstances demand that he stepped up and played the role of responsible adult, regardless of how woefully unprepared for that he is.

Indeed: McGillis is delusional and Tekkadan is mostly made up of children with no idea how the world works beyond the horrors they have survived. He has the task of saving them all or the most he can. Obviously he’s the only one who can see the kind of mess they’ll make if left to their own devices. But that’s fine, between himself and Merribit he’s almost certain they can make up for the lack of common sense of everyone else.

Most of all, what he cannot believe is that he’s turned out to be the sensible, reasonable one from among his childhood friends.

★

Spurred by such terrible thoughts, Gaelio find himself once again hunting down Orga Itsuka with the single-mindedness that probably runs in the veins of all children of the Seven Stars Families, much to their detriment. At least it’s being put to good use in this case. Probably.

Orga Itsuka looks warily at him; not like he did at the beginning, or the first time Gaelio cornered demanding a truce, but more as if he knows that he’s not going to like whatever Gaelio has to say but it is nonetheless in his best interests to listen. Merribit, thank all the stars, is also there, holding Orga’s arm like that will prevent him from escaping their clutches.

Like before, Gaelio explains his reasons to Orga Itsuka mostly because he has to make him understand in order for him to give Gaelio permission to assign himself another near-suicidal, but necessary, mission.

Because Rustal Elion is an opponent so far above the wight class of the child soldiers that he would swallow them whole and they’d only notice when they started being digested; that’s the kind of monster that man is, every inch the Head of on the Seven Star Families.

“Rustal Elion will never be your friend, he won’t even be your ally, but if he thinks he can use you to get close to his goal, he’ll do it.”

That man would use someone until he couldn’t wring a single drop of blood more, and then he’d use them to pave his way to the goal he holds dearest above all, that he intends to reach even if it meant betraying and abandoning his own family and subordinates.

“He doesn’t want to be a footnote, he doesn’t want to be just another name in a branch of his family tree; he wants entire chapters in history books to be dedicated to him, he wants to leave a mark.”

Ruthless Elion. Back in the Academy, all the students used to jokingly call him that, in hushed voices. And none of them knew a thing, none of them could have imagined how true that nickname was.

“So offer him that,” Gaelio says, to a wide-eyed Orga. “And give him whatever he asks for when he doesn’t believe you capable of giving him that, because having him as a lukewarm ally will be leagues better than letting him Tekkadan could stand in his way, or, worse, could be used as a stepping stone.”

★

Gaelio bites the inside of his cheek, debating his next betrayal, but merely as a formality. As much as he loves McGillis as a brother, as the best friend he believed him to be, as the man whose ideals he will follow, whose side he will take in the war he’s so hellbent on starting—Gaelio’s heart already has a clear owner.

And if that owner also has a clear owner, then the hierarchy is clear.

Gaelio opens his mouth and spits out the words, half warning, half plea:

“Take it from someone who knows, Orga Itsuka—McGillis has no idea what he’s doing.”

(He doesn’t understand how the real world works, he doesn’t say. In spite of having already been exposed to the worst of it, he definitely will never say.)

★

Orga wavers at that, maybe because it should sound like nothing but lies, maybe because the honesty in Gaelio’s voice feels as though it had to be extracted with hooks and pliers, but he finally concedes.

Gaelio is granted permission to present their case before their enemy, to go into the wolf’s den and offer it a meal in hopes it will choose to ally itself with them.

Mikazuki had made a deal with the devil for their sake. Gaelio would be remiss if he did anything less.

Still, Mikazuki’s devil is made of metal and asked for nothing but flesh; Gaelio’s is flesh and blood and human all over and he doesn’t know yet what he will be asked to give.

But he will give it, if it is in his hands to do so, if that means that Tekkadan, this court of children that Mikazuki would kill and bleed for, can be saved.

Can be safe.

★

Gaelio is not Tekkadan’s, in spite of everything that has happened, he still believes this. Tekkadan, however, is Gaelio’s. Such are the fangs of his upbringing, finally showing.

It is only right, then, that such fangs and claws are put to use in safeguarding what is his.

He prepares for his arranged meeting with Rustal Elion with a fastidiousness that he remember afflicted his mother when she prepared Almiria for her engagement party with McGillis. He was sent appropriate clothing for the occasion, and McGillis even lent him one of his most trusted aides, aware that this would be akin to an opening move in this war he still expected, who had trimmed Gaelio’s hair and once again caked his face in makeup—although, granted, of much higher quality than the one he had previously used to hide his scars.

Gaelio looks at the full-length mirror McGillis’ aide had brought with him, and inspects his perfectly-tailored armor, the subtlety of his war paint, squares his shoulders and goes off to bargain with the devil.

★

Gaelio has already played the zealot before Rustal Elion, it should hardly be a difficult thing to play such role again. If the object of his zealotry has shifted just enough to align with Elion's own interest, no doubt twisted by the very real flaws of the organization he was, oh, so willing to worship before, and how it had only proven to fall short of his expectations after his, oh, so harrowing experiences while undercover—well, people are always willing to see what they want to see. Gaelio won't be even lying, really.

(There was worship of course, as there were expectations, given how he was brought up, his family, his everything, and all those things lie in a heap of bullshit, now that Gaelio has peeked behind the curtain and found the wizened old husk of their ideals, rotting like a corpse left in a basement.)

★

Rustal Elion receives Gaelio personally and escorts him to a chamber in one of his ships so opulent it could be displayed as a piece on a museum dedicated to the influence of the Château de Versailles.

“Please sit, Lord Bauduin. We will have refreshments brought to us in a minute, but I believe you’d prefer some privacy for our discussion.”

“Of course, my thanks for your consideration, Lord Elion,” Gaelio makes a show of bowing his head just a smidgen more than strictly necessary, placing himself squarely beneath his host. “It is an extremely sensitive matter what I wished to discuss with you, although perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I wished to plead my case before you, as someone who as of right now could be considered the head of the Seven Stars families.”

Rustal Elion takes a set before him and laces his fingers together with a placid smile, the very picture of an understanding, doting superior willing to lend an ear to a troubled youth.

“Please speak freely, Lord Bauduin. I am aware of your complicated situation, after all and would happily lend a helping hand should you need it.”

“It is indeed a complicated situation,” Gaelio agrees, demurely. “And I’m afraid that I have only complicated it further during my time… in this mission, in a manner unbefitting of the heir of one of the Seven Stars. Which is why I must beg your assistance, Lord Elion, as I’ve heard you have a vested interest in the standing of Mars and all its citizens.”

This is a fib, and not even a very good one, since all of Gjallarhorn could be said to have such ‘vested interest’, but only for the worse. However, Rustal Elion’s eyes shine with the intensity of a predator smelling blood and he opens his hands in a welcoming, soothing gesture, a friend in Gaelio’s hour of need willing to hear him out, even if the last time they spoke Gaelio had all but called all of Mars the dregs of humanity.

“Of course, Lord Bauduin! Such humanitarian causes are one of the many duties of our station, and your first-hand experience has no doubt granted you a valuable insight of the plights the so-called human debris must endure,” he says, panegyrizing to the point of artifice. “You can rest assured that I will not pass judgment on you, rather, I believe you should be praised for having learned from this experience.”

Gaelio tries not to wince and cannot be sure if he succeeded. He thinks of the many ways he could spin a tale for Rustal Elion to bait him into action, to present the choice of allying himself with—not Tekkadan, certainly not, but the heads of two of the Seven Stars, Six, now that the Issue family has lost its successor. That would give him the support of half the families, not counting his own, an absolute, undeniable majority. It takes him perhaps half a second to realize that, if Rustal Elion deems him untrustworthy, they will all be doomed and there would be no guarantee of him leaving this ship with his life.

Thus, Gaelio, who knows he’s making a gamble he can’t afford to lose, chooses to parade his one weakness in front of Rustal Elion.

“I intend to marry a human debris,” he says, with all the gravitas such declaration of war deserves. “I will not bring shame upon my family, so the laws will have to change. The world will have to change, to make a place for us.”

Gaelio will drag the entire world, kicking and screaming if need be, to the point where they all see at least a fraction of the brilliance he sees in Mikazuki.

“He will not be called a human debris when I marry him; he will be a person, with all the respect that entails. I won’t have the time to formally duel everyone who shows any disrespect otherwise. And I will formally duel everyone, anyone, the whole damn world, to have him.”

Even as the words leave his lips, he knows they are the truth and there’s no hiding that from the predator before him. Rustal Elion must be able to read some of his desperation in Gaelio’s face or voice, because the amiable business smile he had kept firmly affixed on his face finally changed to something realer and hungrier.

“If you can grant me that, Lord Elion,” Gaelio says, with the fervor of the devout. “I promise you will have the support of the Bauduin family in all of your endeavors, as well as my personal cooperation, in whichever manner you see fit to use. I cannot speak for my good friend McGillis, but I have it on good authority that he would me more than amenable to join hands in pursuit of a worthy goal.”

Rustal Elion abandons all pretense of humility, throws his head back and laughs.

“Why! You flatter this old man, Lord Bauduin,” his smile only grows, even as his eyes do his best to dissect Gaelio where he stands. “Should I take this to mean that the Bauduin and Fareed families would support me, either in improving or restructuring Gjallahorn?”

Gaelio’s smile is one that would be at home in a family picture of a perfect day in the park, a charming young man adored by the world, with the rest of his life before him.

“The times have changed, Lord Elion. If the rest of the Heads would rather cling to the stories of old and bury their heads in the sand, we who know better are aware that this means we should change as well. Lord Kujan, for all his brashness, has made it no secret that you are willing to spearhead such changes. Please, do consider our proposal. We have high hopes for a mutually beneficial relationship.”

Gaelio stands up and bends in a perfectly respectful bow, before being escorted to the docks by one of Rustal Elion’s aides. Every step he takes before arriving to his ship, feels like ice cracking below him. It is only until he is on his way back that he allows himself to curl up into a tiny ball and hyperventilate, uncaring of which child has to see one of his breakdowns; by now it is practically a rite of passage.

(For who, he’s not quite sure.)

★

Mikazuki Bauduin.

It is a meagre offering; in another life such statement would be insulting, but in this one Gaelio knows better. He would much rather take Mikazuki’s last name. Gaelio Augus. He would have twice the ‘g’s that Mikazuki treasures for the connection it represents to Orga Itsuka. Gaelio Bauduin, with all the protection the name represents, with all the considerations both political and otherwise that he would be able to give Mikazuki, would be taking that away.

Bauduin.

The name of a ghost, since the scion of the Bauduin might as well be dead, for all that life has changed him.

But he has nothing else to give. Not even his clothes are his own.

Mikazuki Bauduin.

It should make him happy, and it’s a bitter pill to swallow to find out it doesn’t.

Perhaps, once McGillis is done wrecking havoc among the Seven Star Families, once Kudelia is done with her humanitarian work, once Tekkadan doesn’t have any reason to be other than the bonds they have and the moniker of ‘human debris’ is relegated to the gutter where it belongs, once Rustal Elion is done scribbling his name in history books for the sake of the legacy he so dreams of leaving, regardless of whether he has to write it down in ink or blood—perhaps then he will be allowed to be Gaelio Augus, with no need for consorts to ensure an heir, with no obligations to fulfill but those to his own heart.

He hopes Mikazuki is willing to wait for him.

God, he hopes they all are.

★

Ah, but Gaelio is wrong, after all.

This, although not a surprise, for once comes as a relief.

Here it is, something that he has, that is his, that he has been given: strips of pale blue leather, carefully woven and decorated with an iron charm. Tangible proof of the existence of life after death.

And this, too: he promised Mikazuki his own green-house, and he intends to keep that promise, honoring with the gravity of wedding vows and knightly oaths. He thinks of Mikazuki, surrounded by greenery, of Miss Atra’s laughter and Kudelia’s earnestness, and he thinks that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for a future in which he can have all of that.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Notes: Haha, it’s been so long I legit had to open up a bunch of wiki pages to look up some stuff. ヾ(￣▽￣)

But everything I was too lazy to look up I made up, yay!

I feel like I like this chapter, but I can't honestly tell anymore; I just wanted to get this out, like, pls just let me finish this damn chapter, I promise I will fix it all pretty when I finally post it on AO3—so here it is! I hope it was worth the wait, and as always thank you to everyone who still reads this thing ヾ(•ω•`)o

The fix-it is really heavy in this one and it will only grow stronger, so please forgive my sins keep that in mind. I’m scrubbing everything that goes wrong in the second season off the face of the planet with these last chapters.

(Augh, I don’t want to write Rustal Elion again, why must I suffer for my craft (；′⌒`))

Also, it's really been a year, right? Darn. Happy winter holidays (again) and happy new year (again), keep taking care of yourselves and eat something tasty and maybe pet a cat!

[thecmaly]

can't even cat nap in peace 😾

-

more windbreaker comics

[bookalicent]

yeah so this was insane

[umblrspectrum]

do you ever like wanna make something cool but you dont know how so you just sit around like a moron for 5 hours straight pretending you know how

me neither

on a more serious note i know ad astra as a whole isnt over but i still want to thank daybreaker for their fics. what friends are for was the very first md fic i ever stumbled upon when trying out ao3 for the first time, and prior to joining the server i was checking it near daily for uploads. god knows if i'd be as deep in ao3 as i am now if it werent for this story and convenient timing. Thanks for the story.

[kasieli]

Hear me out: MC and Seb exploring the underwater caves together

[swagglessmoth]

Thinking about my wife.. (rocks fall; scene end)

[critter-covenant]

ANYWAYS SDMSBnsbfns elaborating on the smiling critters but with bows thought

here's just one (1) singular of them for now: catnaps

Wanted to draw refs of all the critters all together but I'm impatient and busy so 1 by 1 it is instead womp womp, maybe I'll link them together as I go along yahooo

[suntails]

dance of dreams

[whenthelightisrunninglow]

remembered @hehe-hoho-ohno's misfits au it's sooooo good and i love it. CHEERS AND APPLAUSE. YAY

[jamandjazz]

My personal headcanon is that Pony got his love for reading from Darry. When Darry was in high school he’d read the books he got in class out loud to Ponyboy and straight up just handed him some of the easier ones so they could talk about it later. In my brain the reason Ponyboy clings onto it so much is because it’s one of the things he and Darry REALLY bonded over when he was a kid and it just brings back good memories of when they got along better.

[arthursfuckinghat]

There's something so haunting about the look of utter horror on Arthur's face as Dutch drowned Bronte right in front of him, the full shot just hurts

Arthur was looking up in horror, John was looking down in disappointment

The two sons stood, watching their mentor pursue revenge they couldn't afford.

[randomminty]

Hello. I bring even more octopath

[cozylittleartblog]

idk if I've said it before, but your portrayals of both Rouxls and Queen are among my favorites, and the way they are when you combine the two is the sole thing that got me to say "yes" to queenkaard. When I first saw it in the game and it started catching on as a ship, I was like "nooo I hc him as gay," but then after seeing your stuff I was like "oh nvm I totally see this now."

i think hearing "i didn't see this ship before, but after your art i understand it and/or even ship it myself" is one of the nicest compliments i get, because it makes me feel like i'm representing something meaningful and sweet about a pairing and having people understand what i think is so great and captivating about them. i've gotten a couple asks like this and sometimes i forget to respond but i always really appreciate them :) thank you very much

[bumfuzzled-bee]

Pat pat.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Asagiri, I am willing to forgive you for many things, but not for introducing a kickass time-stopping catgirl thief who apparently stole highly classified government documents

and then killing her off without even giving us her name

[wickjump]

im gonna start posting fanfic recs btw whenever i find good ones. both here and my (awfully barren) 18+ account. because there are so many good fics out there with so few hits and fewer kudos and sometimes no comments period and it SUCKS because i REALLY LIKE THEM A LOT.. and i hope that by linking them here and yelling at everyone to COMMENT DAMMIT they might actually do it

seriously though any comment means a lot. most people who read a fic don’t even give a kudos. even if the fic wasn’t top tier, if you didn’t dislike it, hand over some kudos!! and if you liked it, comment!!!! even if the comment is one singular heart emoji it will be appreciated. if the comment just says “great fic!” the author will be happy. your comment doesn’t have to be this long winded gushing or analysis.

so many authors quit writing or lose motivation because the comments are few and far in between or just sometimes nonexistent. trust me when i say authors don’t care about how long or cool or smart sounding your comment is i promise!!!

i hope that mmmaybe recommending fics and telling people to comment might help fics i really like get more support maybe. and i, points at you reading this, hope that you will listen!!!at least a little….at least sum kudos….