#less than container load shipping

[eshippro]

The Role of Technology in Modern Freight Forwarding

In today’s global economy, the movement of goods across borders is more complex than ever. The freight forwarding industry, which acts as the intermediary between shippers and carriers, has undergone a significant transformation due to technological advancements. From enhancing operational efficiency to providing real-time visibility, technology plays a crucial role in modern freight forwarding. This blog explores how technology is revolutionizing the industry, the key innovations driving change, and the future outlook for tech in freight forwarding.

1. The Evolution of Freight Forwarding

Freight forwarding has traditionally been a labor-intensive process involving a network of agents, paperwork, and manual tracking. The primary role of a freight forwarder is to arrange the transportation of goods from the point of origin to the destination, handling customs, documentation, and various logistics challenges along the way. Historically, this process was slow and prone to errors, with communication largely reliant on phone calls, faxes, and physical paperwork.

The advent of technology has transformed this landscape, introducing automation, data integration, and advanced analytics that streamline operations and improve service quality. This shift has been driven by the need for greater efficiency, transparency, and scalability in a rapidly evolving global market.

2. Key Technological Innovations in Freight Forwarding

2.1 Digital Platforms and Software Solutions

One of the most significant technological advancements in freight forwarding is the development of digital platforms and software solutions. These platforms consolidate various functions, including booking, tracking, and documentation, into a single interface. They offer a range of benefits:

Automation : Automating routine tasks such as booking confirmations, invoice generation, and shipment tracking reduces the need for manual intervention and minimizes errors. This is particularly crucial for managing cargo shipment and door-to-door shipping efficiently.

Integration : Modern software integrates with other systems, such as ERP (Enterprise Resource Planning) and TMS (Transportation Management Systems), facilitating seamless data exchange and improving overall efficiency. This integration is key for coordinating International Shipping Services and managing less-than-container

User Experience : User-friendly interfaces and self-service portals enhance customer experience by providing easy access to real-time information and simplifying communication, such as obtaining an Instant Freight Quote or tracking ocean freight cargo.

2.2 Real-Time Tracking and Visibility

Real-time tracking technology has transformed how freight forwarders and their clients monitor shipments. GPS and IoT (Internet of Things) sensors enable the tracking of goods throughout their journey, providing visibility into their exact location and condition. This advancement offers several advantages:

Transparency : Customers can track their shipments in real-time, which builds trust and enhances communication. Whether it’s for international freight shipping or sea freight forwarding, real-time updates are crucial.

Proactive Management : Early detection of delays or disruptions allows for proactive measures to mitigate issues and minimize impact, essential for global freight forwarder operations.

Data Insights : Detailed tracking data provides valuable insights into supply chain performance, helping to identify bottlenecks and areas for improvement in freight forwarding services.

2.3 Advanced Analytics and Big Data

The use of big data and advanced analytics is revolutionizing decision-making in freight forwarding. By analyzing large volumes of data from various sources, freight forwarders can gain actionable insights and make more informed decisions. Key applications include:

Predictive Analytics : Forecasting demand, potential disruptions, and optimal routes based on historical data and trends aids in planning less than container load shipping and managing ocean freight shipping efficiently.

Performance Measurement : Analyzing key performance indicators (KPIs) to assess the efficiency and effectiveness of logistics operations, crucial for both door-to-door shipping and freight forwarding services.

Cost Optimization : Identifying cost-saving opportunities through data-driven analysis of shipping routes, carrier performance, and fuel consumption, which is vital for optimizing international freight shipping and managing cargo shipment expenses.

2.4 Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning

Artificial Intelligence (AI) and Machine Learning (ML) are increasingly being integrated into freight forwarding operations. These technologies offer several capabilities:

Automation of Complex Tasks : AI can automate complex tasks such as document processing, customs declarations, and compliance checks, simplifying the management of international shipping services.

Enhanced Decision-Making : Machine learning algorithms can analyze historical data to predict trends and optimize decision-making processes, improving efficiency in sea freight forwarding and global freight forwarder activities.

Customer Service : AI-powered chatbots and virtual assistants provide round-the-clock support, handling queries and providing information efficiently, including instant freight quotes and updates on ocean freight cargo.

2.5 Blockchain Technology

Blockchain technology is emerging as a game-changer in freight forwarding by enhancing transparency and security. The decentralized and immutable nature of blockchain offers several benefits:

Enhanced Security : Blockchain provides a secure and tamper-proof way to record transactions and documentation, reducing the risk of fraud and errors in freight forwarding services.

Streamlined Processes : Smart contracts on the blockchain can automate and enforce agreements between parties, reducing the need for intermediaries and expediting transactions for cargo shipment and less than container load (LCL) shipping.

Improved Traceability : Blockchain enables end-to-end visibility and traceability of shipments, ensuring that all parties have access to accurate and up-to-date information, crucial for international freight shipping and sea freight forwarder operations.

3. The Impact of Technology on Freight Forwarding

The integration of technology into freight forwarding has had a profound impact on the industry:

3.1 Improved Efficiency and Cost Savings

Technology has streamlined operations, reducing the time and effort required to manage shipments. Automation and digital solutions have minimized manual processes, leading to cost savings and increased productivity. Additionally, data-driven decision-making has optimized routes and resource allocation, further enhancing efficiency in ocean freight cargo and door-to-door shipping.

3.2 Enhanced Customer Experience

With real-time tracking, transparent communication, and user-friendly interfaces, customers now have a better experience throughout the shipping process. The ability to access real-time information and receive timely updates enhances customer satisfaction and builds trust, especially in international shipping services and freight forwarders near me.

3.3 Greater Flexibility and Scalability

Technology enables freight forwarders to adapt quickly to changing market conditions and scale their operations efficiently. Digital platforms and cloud-based solutions provide the flexibility to handle varying volumes of shipments and expand into new markets with ease, crucial for global freight forwarder operations and managing less than container load (LCL) shipping.

3.4 Increased Accuracy and Compliance

Advanced technology reduces the risk of errors and ensures compliance with regulatory requirements. Automation of documentation and compliance checks minimizes the likelihood of mistakes and facilitates smoother customs processes, essential for international freight shipping and sea freight forwarder tasks.

4. The Future of Technology in Freight Forwarding

As technology continues to evolve, the future of freight forwarding promises even more advancements:

4.1 The Rise of Autonomous Vehicles

Autonomous trucks and drones are expected to play a significant role in the future of freight forwarding. These technologies have the potential to revolutionize transportation by reducing human error, optimizing routes, and lowering costs, benefiting ocean freight shipping and door-to-door shipping services.

4.2 Enhanced Integration with Other Supply Chain Technologies

The integration of freight forwarding technology with other supply chain technologies, such as warehouse management systems (WMS) and supply chain visibility platforms, will create more cohesive and efficient supply chains. This synergy will enhance the management of international shipping services and improve overall logistics efficiency.

4.3 Greater Focus on Sustainability

Technology will play a crucial role in promoting sustainability in freight forwarding. Innovations such as electric vehicles, optimized routing to reduce fuel consumption, and eco-friendly packaging solutions will contribute to a greener supply chain. This focus on sustainability will impact all aspects of freight forwarding services and less than container load shipping.

Conclusion

Technology has become an integral part of modern freight forwarding, driving efficiency, transparency, and innovation. From digital platforms and real-time tracking to AI and blockchain, these advancements are reshaping the industry and setting new standards for performance and customer satisfaction. As technology continues to evolve, the freight forwarding industry will likely see even more transformative changes, creating opportunities for greater efficiency and sustainability in the global supply chain.

Embracing these technological advancements is not just a matter of staying competitive; it's about leading the way in a rapidly changing world. For freight forwarders, investing in technology is essential for navigating the complexities of global logistics and meeting the evolving demands of the market, whether managing international freight shipping, optimizing sea freight forwarder operations, or providing door-to-door shipping solutions.

[eshippro12345]

Tracking LCL Shipments Singapore

Less than Container Load

https://e-ship.sg/assets/img/blog/tracking-lcl-shipments.jpg

Tracking LCL Shipments: Ensuring Visibility and Efficiency

In today's globalized economy, efficient logistics management is essential for businesses engaged in international trade. Among the various challenges faced in shipping, tracking LCL (Less than Container Load) shipments stands out as a critical aspect of ensuring timely delivery and customer satisfaction. This blog explores the importance of tracking LCL shipments, methods used, and best practices for effective management.

Why Tracking LCL Shipments Matters?

Tracking LCL shipments provides crucial visibility throughout the shipping process. Unlike Full Container Load (FCL) shipments, where a single consignment occupies an entire container, LCL shipments combine multiple smaller shipments from different consignors into a single container. This consolidation offers cost-effectiveness and flexibility but also requires meticulous tracking to monitor each consignment's progress.

The Methods of Tracking LCL Shipments

Online Tracking Platforms : Many freight forwarders and shipping lines in Dubai and across the UAE offer online tracking platforms where shippers and consignees can enter their shipment details to monitor its status. These platforms provide real-time updates on the location and estimated time of arrival (ETA) of the container.

GPS and Container Tracking Devices : Some advanced shipping companies utilize GPS tracking devices placed within containers. These devices transmit location data at regular intervals, allowing stakeholders to track the container's precise location throughout its journey.

Communication with Freight Forwarders : Establishing clear communication channels with your freight forwarder in Dubai is crucial. They can provide updates and address any concerns regarding the shipment's progress and potential delays.

The Tracking Process: Step-by-Step Guide

Booking and Documentation : The tracking process begins with the booking of an LCL shipment with trusted freight forwarding companies in Dubai. Proper documentation, including packing lists and bills of lading, is essential for accurate tracking.

Loading and Departure : Once loaded into a container at the origin port, often managed by logistics companies in UAE, the container's journey begins. Tracking starts as soon as the container is sealed and dispatched.

Transit Updates : Throughout transit, stakeholders receive updates on the container's location and estimated arrival times. This information helps in planning downstream logistics and preparing for customs clearance at the destination port.

Arrival and Discharge : Upon arrival at the destination port, managed by cargo shipping companies in Dubai, the container undergoes unloading. Shippers and consignees receive final notifications confirming the shipment's arrival and readiness for pickup or onward delivery.

Best Practices for Effective LCL Shipment Tracking Use Reliable Partners: Choose freight forwarders and shipping lines in Dubai and the UAE with robust tracking systems and a reputation for reliable service.

Proactive Communication : Maintain open lines of communication with your freight forwarder to address any issues promptly and ensure smooth tracking.

Document Management : Keep all shipment documentation organized and readily accessible, as accurate information is crucial for effective tracking.

Utilize Technology : Take advantage of digital tools and platforms offered by global shipping logistics providers for real-time tracking updates.

Conclusion

Tracking LCL shipments plays a pivotal role in supply chain management, offering transparency and control over the shipping process. By leveraging advanced tracking methods and adhering to best practices, businesses can optimize their logistics operations, enhance customer satisfaction, and maintain a competitive edge in the global marketplace. For more insights into optimizing your logistics strategies with freight forwarders in Dubai and logistics companies in the UAE, stay tuned to our blog for future updates and industry insights.

[villainessbian]

Concept: most aliens can get anxious, can get scared, can get fight-or-flight. What most aliens do not get, however, is stress. Stress is a weird thing even by human standards. It can build up over time or be something tied to a very limited situation. It can be caused by a lot of things, and it comes in a lot of different ways. But it's a core human reaction, when a situation is wrong, it causes stress until it is righted. And it even affects different people differently!

Cue Human Cassandra, on a ship with her friend and co-worker Human Pauline. The ship is crewed with a mix of species. It's a cargo ship - load up in a space port, unload in another, get news and supplies during their stops, and live as an ever-shifting family as some of the two dozen crew members, give or take, get replaced. Some leave come payday, and new ones come looking for the thrill of low-level adventure, experiencing warp drives across the safer roads of the known universe.

But getting the supplies you need, or want, in stops is never so easy. Humans are new to the galactic community, and their needs misunderstood. Most broad-edibility food is bland for them, but that's okay. A big enough bag of their condiments can last them years. But ADHD meds... now that's less easy to get, the further from Earth you are. And a contract too big for their captain to pass on came up, much farther than the two humans expected.

Cassandra's mood deteriorated, her work priorities out of order, her sleep schedule in disarray. Little by little, she grew restless, shifting moods and gears unpredictably. A few weeks in and she was a mess, barely able to keep up with the minimum her job doing maintenance and running safety diagnostics for the route charting team required of her. While Pauline could help with the mechanical aspects of keeping the ship running, picking up the "slack", the safety had to be double-checked by the charting and pilot teams. When the curves of asteroid probability reached beyond a certain level, several hundred simulations had to be run, time-consuming processes had to be used, to avoid any collision at speeds beyond speed c. Some truly exotic things happened to ships that experienced those, but none of them contained the words "surviving crew." A safe route avoided any probability of collision over .1% and when going faster than light, any choice of course required thinking in 3 dimensions plus relative time to navigate dangerous probability fields in one piece, finding time-specific corridors and accounting for a dozen variables at once.

After she had a breakdown over a path she would normally have been able to find in under a minute, Pauline spoke to a concerned pilot team member:

"You have to understand her, this is a stressful situation and she's doing her best..."

"What do you mean by 'stressful'?" Gabalt asked. The furry little creature stood on two arched legs, and barely reached up to Pauline's shoulder, opening three wide eyes with curiosity and concern in equal parts.

"Things are... getting difficult for her, and keep getting more difficult because she does not have medication to help her brain be efficient. It makes her tired, and inefficient, and as it goes on, she's less and less able to cope with the situation. The longer this goes on, the worse it gets, and that is stress. Getting more tired because it takes more energy to deal with the situation, and less efficient because she's more tired, and things get harder because she's less efficient, on and on until something can solve the problem and the stress goes away."

"That sounds... hard. Do all humans have to deal with this?"

"Well, everyone has sources of stress, but she's got a disability. Without her meds, she gets stressed all the time. Not a lot all at once, but it always adds up."

"Oh no! So she'll be stuck like that until we get closer to Earth?"

"Most likely, yes."

But the most momentous thing to happen this day was not her breakdown. Not an hour later, alarms blared up. The simulation holograms all displayed blinking red masses - the less-travelled "safe route" was not as well protected! An asteroid range had been detected cutting through the border field, and it was in their way!

Pauline froze up, not knowing what to do. Gabalt was too surprised to act fast. All the courses from the ship's library of regular manoeuvres suggested a crash chance of over 60%, and mere seconds to act before entering the field!

Before anyone could react, Cassandra came in running from her corner to the front of the bridge, slamming the warp drive shutdown button. Most holograms stuttered and collapsed, the exit from FTL essentially dividing one or several of their dimensions by zero.

Looking quickly at the few remaining ones and gazing at the screens showing the current outside situation like a large window would have - plus a few critical extra points of data - she adjusted the angles manually while everyone still shuddered from the gravitational and temporal whiplash of suddenly coming back into normal time. Unblinkingly, she spotted the asteroids on the route while the ship was still going, if not at relativistic speeds, still fast enough for a single pebble they met to vaporise the Whipple shields, the outer hull, the inner hull, the crew members, and the hull again coming out if they but grazed it. Confirming the angles visually, she played with the reaction wheels, the thrusters, the gravity drives, to divert the ship's course just enough to miss a collision while not risking any grave injury on board. There was no time to react - if anything showed up straight ahead on the "unaugmented" outside view screens, it was too late to not get splatted. After half the crew had had the time to get thrown to the side or on the ground due to the rough handling, she'd managed to avoid any crash.

Gabalt was reeling. While it was surely not impossible, these was the kind of moves experienced veterans would never wish to attempt, and the margins for error were ridiculously low! She'd saved the ship and everyone on it, whereas she'd been unable to do a simple safety run so soon before?

Pauline was white as a sheet, but this was nothing compared to Cassandra, shaking violently and breathing unevenly.

"Pauline? What is she doing?"

"That's... probably the adrenaline."

"What's it for?"

"It's from stress. When it comes it overcharges the body. It's like the traditional, 'fight or flight' instinct from survival in prey-predator paradigms, it lets you move fast but paralyses thought... it feels pretty bad after a lot of it is released though. Now she's crashing down, must be harrowing."

"How did she do that? And you said her thoughts were paralysed for precision manoeuvres?"

Cassandra's voice came, nearly a mutter: "I just... had to. do it."

Gabalt needed to understand what happened.

"What do you mean you had to? Someone had to do it, but why you?"

"It- it was very stressful, I saw you freeze, and so."

"But... but HOW did you do all that? That was extremely complicated, few pilots -whose main craft is directly piloting- would want to even try doing that when given a choice!?"

"I had to. do it, so I did. I couldn't. couldn't make a mistake."

"This makes absolutely no sense."

Pauline interrupted. "She just works like that. Lots of stress and when people freeze up, humans with her condition... sometimes, surprisingly, function better in the moment than others can."

"Ah. So it's a human thing. of course, it's a human thing. NOTHING MAKES ANY SENSE WITH YOUR ACCURSED SPECIES" the diminutive pilot pouted.

And so one more story of the humans doing the impossible spread around. Humans of a subtype, more easily harmed, sometimes unstable and needing help for the simplest things... accomplishing odd, unthinkable, borderline heroic feats under duress none could be expected to withstand - but only then. Cursed, blessed? No story-teller seemed too certain. But the "magical" species never stopped surprising all others. And a new proverb developed: "it's not over until the human says it is".

[ltwilliammowett]

Half time with our calendar and this is the perfect moment to introduce you to a lady who shows the interface of Age of Sail and Age of Steam. She is generally regarded as the start of the Age of Steam and yet she still has both elements. But who am I talking about ? - The HMS Warrior

More about her history here:

HMS WARRIOR was built as part of Britain’s response to concerns over France’s maritime ambitions which included the building of LA GLOIRE, a powerful ironclad which was the most advanced warship of its day.  WARRIOR was commissioned on 1 August 1861 and at that time unquestionably ruled the seas. Her main guns, engines and boilers were contained within an armoured wrought iron hull and she could be driven by both steam and sail. This combination meant that she could outrun and outgun any ship afloat and she never fired a shot in anger – the classic deterrent.

During the first commission her main role was to lead the Channel Squadron. On 22 November 1864 she paid off for her first major refit at Portsmouth Dockyard during which the ship was comprehensively refurbished. She was also completely re-armed with 7” and 8” muzzle loaded rifled guns. However, in the American Civil War the success of the Monitor was to have a dramatic effect on naval thinking and WARRIOR’s role as ‘Monarch of the Seas’ was to be very short-lived.

She re-commissioned in July 1867 and re-joined the Channel Fleet. The second commission was rather less interesting than the first as she was no longer regarded as the most powerful warship afloat and faded from the limelight. The second commission ended in 1871 and she then spent four years in refit at Portsmouth being fitted with improved boilers, steam power for the forward capstan and a new poop deck to accommodate an Admiral.  On completion in 1875 she became part of the First Reserve Fleet where she was to remain until paying at Portsmouth on 31 May 1883.

After periods as a depot ship and part of HMS VERNON she was paid off in 1924. She was then converted for use as a floating oil jetty and in 1929 was towed to Pembroke Dock where she was to remain for the next 50 years. In 1967 the campaign to restore WARRIOR started and prominent in this was Sir John Smith who formed the Manifold Trust. A committee chaired by the Duke of Edinburgh met in 1968 to discuss her future and from this emerged the Maritime Trust. When Pembroke Dock closed in 1978 the Manifold Trust agreed to underwrite the cost of restoration and the ship was handed over to the Maritime Trust in 1979.

In 1983 ownership was transferred to the Ship’s Preservation Trust which became the Warrior Preservation Trust in 1983. Although the hull was very sound the rest of the ship was in a poor state. The task which was part restoration and part re-building needed vast resources not only of money (£8M) but also of skill, patience and endurance. The 8 year restoration programme at Hartlepool transformed her into one of the world’s most important historic warships and in 1987 she returned to Portsmouth where she is now moored in the Historic Dockyard.

A planned preservation programme is in place for the ship and over the years she has been dry-docked twice, and the upper deck, (£725K provided by the Heritage Lottery Fund), all three fighting tops and half moons and the stern gallery have been replaced.

[feyhunter78]

Pink Pastels Pt 18

Description: Miguel deals with Todd, and has a late night visitor—you.

Pt 19

The purr of car engines overhead, the slight rattling of the bridge, the coos of pigeons and the soft lapping of the waves fills Miguel's ears as he stares down at the waterlogged corpse at his feet.

“Lyla, how many people know about this?”

“About the mauled body of your new girlfriend's ex-boyfriend?” Lyla smirks, her heart shaped sunglasses low on her nose as she observes the scene.

Miguel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Lyla, please just answer my question.”

“Just a few displaced people along the river, the Swedish shipping vessel that reported the sighting, and the Coast Guard has the call record, but since you got lucky with the currents and since I made a few more urgent calls to the Coast Guard, they haven't set eyes on him yet.” She tells him, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Thank you.” He says as he zips up the body bag and tosses it over his shoulder.

“So, what are you going to do with him?” She asks, flickering in and out of his masked vision.

“Acid.”

“Acid? Lame.” Lyla huffs.

He snorts. “It's quick, efficient, and less likely to leave a trace.”

“Yeah, but wasn't he like a total dick to y/n?”

He grunts in response as he swings through the city until he finds the disposal grounds of Janson Inc, the manufacturing company you mentioned Todd works for.

“I mean, I thought you'd go way more psycho than you did.” She says, laughter on the horizon of her tone.

“Lyla” He warns, as he heaves the body bag containing Todd into the acid, watching with no small amount of satisfaction as the fabric, flesh, and bone dissolve.

“Ok, ok, I'm just saying, I think I know you pretty well and-”

“I want him forgotten, I want y/n to forget about him.”

Lyla says nothing for a moment, then sighs heavily. “Miguel…you know it doesn't work like that. You might have been able to easily replace this universe's version of you, but that doesn't mean you can just as easily replace Todd.”

Miguel turns from the acid, the surrounding area bathed in a sickly green glow. “I know.”

“And you know y/n's different from Ana, Xina, Dana, and even Tempest, she cares about you, about Gabi. She really cares about Gabi. She's not just going to jump you now that her ex-boyfriend is gone. She's going to weigh the consequences.”

A smirk tugs at his lips, and for a moment his mind supplies him with the memory of you begging for him, his name on your lips like a fervent plea as you fall apart on his thigh. Of the way your eyes linger on his lips, how you reached for him in the doorway of your apartment.

He grunts in response. He knows you, better than you know he does, better than Todd did, perhaps better than anyone else in the world. You'll weigh the consequences, but that doesn't mean he can't try to lighten the load.

“Okay, Mr. Stupid and Silent, don't believe me. It's your funeral.” Lyla huffs before her form flickers out, and he's left alone in the dark.

Miguel unlocks the door to his apartment and silently pads through the quiet space.

Gabi's asleep, he knows this. You're asleep, he knows this. He should also be asleep, but he's filled with a nameless emotion--an anxious energy raging against the edges of sleep that are threatening to creep in on him.

He sits at his desk, flipping through security feeds, ensuring there's no record of him. He's clean, there's no trace of him or Todd.

He was smart, made sure no one would see when he broke into Todd's apartment and knocked him out.

No one noticed as he carried Todd's unconscious body to an abandoned warehouse, and no one heard Todd's screams as he tore into him, leaving him a mangled mess that Miguel finally dangled him off the bridge.

He watched unflinching as Todd plummeted. The sound of Todd's body slamming into the water echoed off the banks, and Miguel waited until he sank to return to his apartment.

No one would ever know. He got away clean.

“Hey Boss? Y/N's here.” Lyla says, her words hitting him a millisecond before he hears your soft knocking on his door.

He bolts up, running a hand through his hair and checking his appearance in the hall mirror before he swings open the door to see you. Perfect, perfect you.

Your hair is loose, hanging free, and you're clad in fuzzy socks and an oversized sweatshirt.

Are you wearing pants under that? Shorts? Is this a seduction tactic? Because it's working.

“Hey, I'm sorry, I know it's late, but I just...” You wave your hands helplessly, your nails are pink, a pretty pearlescent pink.

He reaches out to catch one of your hands in one of his, squeezing it slightly. “Don't apologize, I’m more than willing to help, whatever it is.”

You give him an embarrassed smile. “Okay, so, it's a new apartment and I swear I keep hearing all these noises, and I know it’s childish but...would you come and take a look? Make sure there's nothing there?”

He's in love with you, fully, completely, unreservedly.

“Of course, y/n, I felt the same way when I moved in. The building is a bit older, there are lots of creaks and groans.”

He follows you to your apartment as he says this, and you look back at him in surprise. “You were scared?”

He chuckles sheepishly. “Actually, Gabi was, I just wanted to make you feel better.”

You smile and duck your head. “I appreciate the effort."

You hold the door open for him, then stand in your lit kitchen, your arms wrapped around yourself. Your bare thighs are exposed by the rising fabric of your sweatshirt, and he averts his eyes. 

He strangles his desire to sink to his knees and grip the soft flesh of your thighs, to wrench them apart and bury his face between them. To watch you come apart on his tongue as the sounds of your pleas and moans fill the air.

“I feel like I heard something near the balcony. You say, tearing him from his thoughts.

“I’ll go check.” He tells you, making his way towards your balcony, his senses on high alert even though he knows there's nothing.

It's an older building, Gabi was scared when they first moved in, that much is true. But there's nothing to be scared of, he's ensured that. In fact, this building, this block might be the safest in all of Nueva York.

Miguel throws open your balcony door and makes a show of checking every inch. He's rewarded by your soft laugh.

“All clear?” You take a half step forward, a smile playing at your lips, the lingering traces of sleep still gracing your expression.

“All clear. Anywhere else you want me to check?”

You nod towards your bedroom. “I swear I heard shuffling in my bathroom.”

He waits at your door, looking back at you. “Through here?”

You breeze past him and sit cross-legged on the edge of your bed. “The door on the left.”

He pushes the door open and flicks on the light. He's seen this room already, through your necklace, but standing there, on your plush, pastel purple bath mat, looking into your mirror, the mirror he's admired your bare body in, sends him into a tailspin.

“You see anything?” You call softly.

He shakes his head. “Nothing, no monsters lurking in between your towels.

“I didn't think there were monsters." You mumble, padding over to him, your scent hitting him like a freight train.

Has it always been this strong, or was it because he's in your home and everything around him screams y/n?

He inhales deeply, his fingers curling around the edge of your sink, his eyes closed as he fights to calm himself.

“Miguel? Are you okay?” You ask, placing a hand on his bicep.

He pulls you forward, pressing your back against the sink, his arms on either side caging you in.

You look up at him with an adorable expression of surprise, as if you hadn't seen his agility when he was disguised as Spiderman. “Miguel?”

He steels himself, even as he feels the plaster of your sink give beneath his fingers. He'll fix that later.

“Pancakes or French Toast?”

“I'm sorry?” You ask stunned.

“For breakfast, cariño, which would you prefer?” He forces the words out, prays they're smooth and unassuming.

You smile up at him, and he feels his stomach flip. It's a childish thing, for a small smile to affect him this way.

“Oh, pancakes please, and I can help you cook if you need.”

You're so sweet.

“No, no, mi vida, I'm cooking. All you need to do is keep me company.”

Your eyes follow the movement of his lips, and his nostrils flare when he smells the arousal wafting off you.

“Are you sure? I really don't mind.” You insist, palms resting against his chest.

He leans down and presses a fleeting kiss to your forehead. “I'm sure, now goodnight y/n.”

Then he leaves you there and heads back to his apartment, his head spinning, your scent still lingering around him.

Taglist: @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @luvisaaxoxo, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @aesniri, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @act1839, @needsleep3000, @totally-not-georgia, @witchy-lizard, @cxmeiloorun7, @justrandomlolidk, @chimpkinnuggies, @alicefallsintotherabbithole, @loser-alert, @wwwellacom, @ryantryan6969, @lollipopin, @youcantseem3, @a-cult-leader, @verexi, @purpleskiesandroses, @they2luv1naia, @sophiaj650, @idolautism, @rheannajrs, @merakiq, @rexs-wife, @sukaretto-n, @twilight-loveer, @f1shb0nez, @callsign-blue, @marcelineormars

[drunkenskunk]

Four Hours

Hour 1:

Shit was fucked, and everyone knew it.

Alarm klaxons loudly blared from every single loudspeaker in every single corridor... but Scarlet could barely hear it over the rest of the chaos. Panicked shouts and desperately barked orders, as well as the cracks and booms of distant gunfire and explosions, echoed through the station. She tried to block out the noise, focusing only on her task: get all this ammo to a cut off militia unit on the other side of the hab ring before they were overrun.

It all started when a passing blinkvoid disabled the local Omninet, effectively cutting off Hell's Gate from most external communication. And then, the very instant they were isolated from everyone else in the system, the station went into red alert: an unidentified hostile warship had appeared out of nowhere, and started immediately launching boarding torpedoes. It was a perfectly timed attack that caught everyone in the station with their pants down, and it was only through sheer luck – and a few spare coldcores acting as decoys in an empty hangar – that the Strategic Response Team managed to even get inside their mechs in the first place, much less push back the initial assault.

Once the first fight was over and they got a single moment to catch their breath, that's when the team found out exactly how fucked up the shit was. And the answer: comprehensively. Because it wasn't just any warship attacking them. It was The Tachyon: the ship from a (possible?) nightmare future that had contained the cascading NHP god of the local apocalypse cult. Scarlet was sure she and the rest of the team had seen that stupid ship explode in orbit of Chameleon months ago when all this madness started, but...

Then again, Andros Capella died on that fucking ship, and he came back because that future NHP could apparently just DO that, just like it brought back Ignatius Aurum after that asshole got murked, and time travel was also involved somehow, so who the fuck knows anymore! All this shit was melting Scarlet's brain, and it was pissing her off.

What she did know was that the Hell Hounds – having seemingly been absorbed by The Faith of The One – were now intent on boarding the station, and the militia was offering a well practiced rebuttal: “Hippity-Hoppity, Get Off My Property.” Now, that? That, she could wrap her head around.

So that's why Scarlet – still wearing her interface jacksuit underneath a set of heavy combat armor, loaded down with guns and ammo for resupply, and still juiced on the combat stims in her system from the fight less than half an hour earlier – was running at full speed towards the sounds of gunfire and explosions off in the distance.

“Heads up grunts! I'm inbound on your position with resupply!” Scarlet said into her helmet comm, with no idea if anyone from the militia was even still alive and on the frequency to receive her. Up ahead, the sounds of violence seemed to be petering out, and that was either a good sign, or exceptionally bad. She tried her damnedest to pour on more speed (which wasn't easy considering how heavy all this fucking ammo was) and every heavy footfall shook the deck plating under her and sent a violent shock up her spine.

She rounded a corner and the makeshift command post and barricades beyond the bulkheads finally come into view, and she was momentarily gripped with panic at the number of bodies and spent shell casings she saw littering the floor. Was she already too late? But then the moment passed and she let out a sigh of relief: it looked like nearly everyone here was still alive, just hunkering down behind cover. She'd worked with Zinfandel the last few months to make sure the militia had prepared for this exact scenario with dozens of “all hands, repel boarders” drills, and it was clearly paying off.

“Was that the last of them?” Scarlet heard someone ask from somewhere up ahead. A pair of milita troopers were taking cover behind a flash-printed chest high wall, and one of them quickly peeked over the edge before ducking back down again.

“I dunno,” he said. “Probably not for long. I don't think we can hold against another assault like that...”

“Good news, fellas!” Scarlet yelled, grabbing the attention of everyone still alive. “I got beans, bullets, and bandaids! Load up!” She unbuckled the ratchet across her chest, undoing the makeshift harness made out of tie-down straps holding the giant metal crate to her back. The 4-foot cube loaded to the brim with ammunition, weapons, grenades, and directional mines dropped down unceremoniously with a colossal thud.

“Scarlet? Issat you?” one of the militia she recognized – a kid by the name of Flavor Profile – asked from where he was taking cover behind a nearby pillar. He peered out from beneath his helmet and adjusted the grip on his shotgun. “Christ the Buddha, you're a godsend! I think I'm down to my last two shells.”

“Where in the hells did y'even get all this?” another one of the militia, Spud Wrench, asked while she peered into the giant box of munitions. “We had to beg, borrow, and steal just to set up this chokepoint!”

“Called in a favor,” Scarlet said with a shrug. “Couple of smugglers I know, offered to 'share' some of their inventory. Now, I'd ask for a status update, but shit's kinda obvious,” Scarlet unslung the bullpup carbine off her shoulder and into her hands. “Anyone too wounded to fight, there's a med station that got set up, 'bout two sectors spinward. Everyone else, pull back, regroup, and reload. When the next wave hits, I'll hold them here and buy you some time.”

“What, by yourself?” Flavor asked incredulously. Before he could get an answer, however:

“CONTACT!” came a yell from up ahead, followed swiftly by the bark of gunfire. Without another word, Scarlet was in motion, leaping over the barricade. Violence was no longer imminent, it was here, and it was as if a switch in her head flipped. A sharp electric tingle buzzed in the back of her brain, like the rush of dopamine she always got from fighting in Big Red.

Several armored figures hove into view, their haphazard combat gear painted in faded Hell Hound colors unevenly obscured by iconography of The Faith. The heads-up display on her helmet lit them up like beacons, and with efficient, almost mechanical precision: POP! POP! POP! Scarlet squeezed off three bursts and dropped them before any of them could even get a shot off. She didn't bother to stop, intent on countering the charge of these zealots with one of her own.

Just as she got to the bend in the corridor, she heard the unmistakable sound of a small revving engine. She skidded to a halt just as an arm swinging a rusty chainsaw blade appeared, passing through the spot she would've been. A wild-eyed cultist appeared, carried by his own momentum, and swung the blade again. Scarlet was so high on stims it was like she was watching him moving in slow motion, and it was clear he was aiming to chop her head off. She ducked, and the chainsaw missed her helmet by inches. She let go of the carbine's foregrip, shoved the barrel up under his chin, and pulled the trigger.

There was no time to stop. Scarlet grabbed the dead man by his chestplate, and held the lump of meat ahead of her as she pressed forward, rounding the corner. Seconds later, she heard the bark of automatic fire, followed swiftly by the sound of several wet impacts against the dead man's back. Scarlet hunkered down behind her makeshift cover, tucked the carbine in close, and continued forward, bullets either ricocheting off the corridor all around her or hitting the dead man.

As soon as she felt she was close enough, she shoved up against the body she was carrying with all her might, and threw it forward; it crashed into one of the cultists, sending them tumbling. In one fluid motion, she tossed the carbine into her left hand, reached down for the pistol on her hip with her now free right, and leveled the carbine at one of the cultists trying to duck behind cover. She fired off a quick burst, quickly aimed her pistol at another, and pulled the trigger.

For a split second, it felt like she was back in her mech; she'd been making a habit lately of firing the Leviathan mounted on Big Red's shoulder in one direction to swiss-cheese an opponent, while shooting the assault rifle in another direction at a completely different target.

“So,” Scarlet stood over the man trying to pick himself up off the floor, and very deliberately leveled her carbine at his face. “You gonna come quietly, or am I gonna have to clean you off my boots?”

“My death won't matter,” the cultist said, while trying to be subtle about reaching for his discarded weapon and failing miserably. “Feather will burn this corrupt and cruel universe to cinders and start anew. Let the final verse be written, so the page m-AUGH!” He yelped as Scarlet stomped on his hand before he could reach the rifle.

“You talk too much,” was all she said before smacking him in the head with the butt of her carbine. Scarlet quickly scanned the corridor for more targets, but it seemed the current assault was over, if only for a moment. She flipped the unconscious man onto his front, reached into one her pouches for some zip ties, and began binding his hands; it was a longshot, but maybe Shelly and Zinfandel could get some decent intel out of a prisoner who didn't know when to shut the fuck up.

When he woke up, that is.

- - -

Hour 2:

Things were still bad, but... far as Scarlet was concerned, they could be worse.

The militia platoon defending this particular section of the station had done wonders with all those supplies. On top of refortifying their position, nearly every maintenance corridor surrounding them had been booby trapped. A few enterprising cultists had already tried to flank their position by cubbying, and ended up getting turned into greasy smears. That dissuaded the rest, funneling the cultists into a heavily defended killbox, and right into all of their bullets. Over and over and over again.

Scarlet had no fucking idea how there were so many of these lunatic apocalypse cultists, or where they were even all coming from, since there seemed to be no end to them in sight. They weren't going to get anywhere if they kept on the defensive and just waited to be overrun; no, they had to push forward, and find some way to kick these idiots off personally.

So, Scarlet did the most sensible thing she could think of: she asked for volunteers, and put together a strike team. With any luck, that would give the rest who'd opted to stay behind time to further dig in, and maybe reestablish communication with the rest of the station. There were a total of five of them in this op, with Scarlet taking point, and things started off well. Enemy resistance had started to peter out the further they got from the militia checkpoint... so maybe the Hell Hounds had finally run out of reinforcements?

And then it all went to shit. Again.

She wasn't sure who fired first, but as soon as they reached the atrium where the boarding torpedo had landed, the bullets started flying. Scarlet and the rest knew the terrain better, but there were far more of the cultists, and they just kept coming, heedless of their own safety. It was like a fucking clown car! How could so many fit in that one fucking torpedo?!

An extremely loud shriek drowned out everything else, muffling the explosions and gunfire all around, and it made Scarlet's blood run cold. It was a sound that made her feel like every single nerve ending around every port and connection that would normally have plugged her into her mech had suddenly pulled taut: the whine of a set of miniaturized IPS-N ramjet engines spooling up.

The corridors in this section of the station were too narrow and had ceilings too low for most mechs, which is why Scarlet had felt confident to be boots on the ground instead of in a cockpit for this op... but most mechs wasn't all mechs, and they had now run into the worst case scenario.

“FALL BACK!” Scarlet yelled, already on the move and trying her best to disguise the rising panic in her voice. “NOW! WE'VE GOTTA GO NOW!”

A blur of burnt red and dull gold metal emerged from the darkened torpedo entrance in a motion almost too fast to see. It was so fast, in fact, that two of the cultists weren't able to get out of the way in time, and the half sized mech plowed straight through them as if they weren't there, aerosolizing them in an instant. The unmistakable silhouette of an IPS-N Caliban emerged through the rapidly expanding clouds of blood that had been it's allies a second before.

Scarlet and the others were already running, and she just hoped they would all be fast enough to escape, but what the fuck could they even do? This is the exact situation the Caliban is designed for! If she could get to Big Red it might level things out, but... even if her mech wasn't on the other side of the station, that big fucker couldn't fit in these corridors!

“Machete!” Scarlet yelled at one of the squad as they all rounded a corner. “Get that bulkhead sealed!” She pulled a grenade off her kit, and tossed it like a baseball straight at the charging mech which seemed to fill the entire corridor. The grenade exploded with a pop, and a cloud of dirty black smoke appeared at the mech's head-height for a fraction of a second.

The Caliban didn't even notice. And then, the mech raised its left arm, a pair of shotgun barrels glinting in the fluorescent light.

“FUCK!” She dove for cover behind the bend just as she heard a titanic boom, like an angry god slamming a car door. All the color was washed out by the intensity of the muzzle flash. An immense cloud of flechette darts, ball bearings, and superheated magnesium strips filled the corridor they had just barely managed to escape. The metal walls, floor, and ceiling all got torn up or melted, and nearly every electronic panel and light fixture simultaneously exploded.

“BULKHEAD!” Scarlet yelled again through the tinnitus. She fought the urge to keep running as she watched Machete reach for the lever to activate the emergency seal. All the stims in her system made every motion feel painfully, agonizingly slow, until they finally grabbed the lever and yanked it down.

The Caliban appeared around the corner, mere feet away. Even through the tinnitus, she could hear that distinctive, terrifying whine of the ramjets spooling up again. Scarlet realized in that moment that there was no way out... so if this is how it was gonna be, she was going out fighting, even if she knew it was pointless. She raised her carbine, thumbed the safety to full auto, and just unloaded. A second passed, and half a dozen bullets impacted against the Caliban's armored chassis amid a hail of sparks, every shot bouncing off harmlessly.

Just before the mech started to move, the heavy metal bulkhead slammed down hard, sealing the corridor and trapping the mech on the other side of several inches of heavily reinforced metal. Steam and smoke spilled out of the barrel of her carbine, and Scarlet let out the breath she was holding...

There was a loud ringing BANG against the bulkhead. And then another. And then another. It was the sound of heavy metal fists punching the solid slab of metal separating the Caliban from its prey...

“That's not gonna hold it,” Scarlet said through ragged breaths, slowly backing away, and motioning for the others to do the same. “We've gotta get out of here... find some way to stop it.”

How any of them were going to do that, Scarlet honestly had no fucking idea...

- - -

Hour 3:

Scarlet leaned against a bulkhead back at the checkpoint. She was starting to feel sluggish, and checked the auto-injector mounted on her armor: one stim left, and all the rest were empty. Fuck. She hit the magazine catch on her carbine, and checked her remaining ammo: 10 shots left. Fuck.

“How we doin'?” Scarlet asked, already knowing the answer.

“I mean, we're not dead?” Machete shrugged, ignoring the blood trickling down her temple.

“What about comms? We still cut off?” Scarlet peered around her cover. Nobody coming yet. That was good, at least.

“Yeah, for the most part...” Machete nodded. “Short range works, but we can't reach anybody further out than, like... 4 sectors? I think? I dunno if they've got a jammer, or there's some kinda paracausal shit goin' on, or what. We've got some runners, but... takes way too much time.”

“What about that Caliban? Anybody have eyes on it?”

“We got Spud working with a couple other sigdivers, trying to keep it busy. Opening and closing bulkheads to direct it away from us, keep it going' in circles, tryin' to get it lost... but, I mean... I guess we're lucky those cult fuckers seem to be just as scared of it as we are, y'know?”

Scarlet furrowed her brow inside her helmet, trying to weigh her options. They weren't going to get far if they couldn't deal with that damn mech. If Agarin was here in his Caliban, That Which Poets and Artists have Eternally Sought: The Power to Move, this wouldn't be a problem. Not only would he would wipe the floor with that amateur pilot, he'd personally turn every one of these cultists into chunky salsa without breaking a sweat. But... hell, even if comms weren't down right now, the rest of the SRT was in the same boat as her: dealing with too many crises all over the besieged station, all at once, and with not enough time to fix everything...

And then, an idea crossed her mind.

“Hang on... do we have any thermite charges left?” Scarlet asked. Machete did a double take, staring at her as Scarlet left cover to head deeper into the checkpoint.

“We have thermite?” she shook it off. “Wait, where are you goin'?”

“Got an idea. Gonna find Spud, see if we can funnel that Caliban closer to the station skin...”

- - -

Hour 4:

This was either a brilliant idea, or it was the single dumbest thing Scarlet had ever come up with.

“Scarlet, you set up yet?” a crackling voice said through her helmet comm. Scarlet surveyed the corridor one last time before replying. Hopefully the thermite charges were disguised well enough that whoever was piloting that monster wouldn't notice...

“As I'll ever be, Spud,” Scarlet adjusted her grip on the SMAW resting on her shoulder. “That Caliban getting close?”

“He's taking the bait,” Spud replied, amid a hail of static. “Be ready, he'll be on you any second. I'll seal him in as soon as you give the word.”

She could hear heavy footfalls, thudding in the distance and getting closer.

Well. It's now or never. She raised up the SMAW, aiming it at the far end of the corridor, finger resting just above the trigger...

The Caliban rounded a corner, filling the hallway with its (relatively) immense bulk, and it came to a stop as soon as it noticed Scarlet. The hallway behind the mech was lit up by bright blue flame, as the shrieking whine of the ramjets spooling up began once more.

“Backblast clear, I guess...” she muttered, squeezing the trigger. The end of the tube exploded in flame and smoke, and even inside the armor she could feel the concussive force of the rocket engine buffeting her. It screamed down the hallway for half a second, directly at the mech, before it impacted dead center with its chestplate. The deck beneath her feet shook as the end of the hallway was consumed in a fireball, briefly enveloping and obscuring the Caliban.

She knew that wouldn't stop it, but it wasn't supposed to. Scarlet tossed the empty SMAW aside as quick as she could, reached over for the already primed bulkhead controls on the wall next to her with her left hand, and pulled the detonator off with her right. The fire and smoke at the end of the hall was violently pushed away as the Caliban charged down the corridor, ramjet engines screaming; Scarlet slammed down the lever as soon as she saw it emerge, and hoped against hope that she was fast enough...

THUD. The bulkhead slammed shut, and she could just barely hear the Caliban screech to a halt on the other side.

“Now!” Scarlet said into her comm. “Seal it now!” Without waiting for a response, she hit the button on the detonator. The corridor shook once again, and there were a series of muffled thuds from the other side of the bulkhead as the carefully placed thermite charges detonated... and then, every sound beyond the sealed metal came to a swift stop.

After all, sound can't propagate in a vacuum.

“Holy shit... I, uh... I think you got him!” Spud's voice crackled, the channel still flush with static. “Let me see if I can link into one of the external cameras... oh yeah! Yeah, you spaced the fucker!”

Scarlet sighed heavily, and stood there for a minute or two. A part of her wanted to let the tension that had kept her in a vice grip evaporate, but... it didn't. It couldn't. She couldn't let it. The Gate was still in danger. Her friends were still in danger. Her home was still in danger. There was no time to rest. There was no time to stop.

Not yet.

[getaandlucius]

A brief taste of Honey (Geta x Lucius) 18+

Summary: Before Geta gets on a ship to Sardinia to visit his uncle, he and Lucius spend time together and have some deep talks and intimate bonding time.

Previous parts: part 1, part 2, part 3, Part 4, Part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

Authers note: For all the anxious souls sending me messages about Dondus and Caracalla: I did not forget about them but I must ask you to have patience please :) All will be clear in the end!

Warnings (contains spoilers): 18+ MDNI, childhoodtrauma, mentioning of inc*st in the past, loads of fluff and heavy smutt, you are warned.

"I... I have to tell you something." Geta propped himself up on his elbows, the book now resting face-down on his chest. He yawned, clearly not thinking much of it. "What is it?"

Lucius swallowed, contemplating if he could retreat and offer a half-truth instead. But there was no use. "There is a growing opposition to my rule... in your name. People in the northern provinces are dissatisfied with the new ways, clinging to how it was before." Lucius searched Geta's face, but it remained blank. He cleared his throat. "It's most likely led by someone in the old senate, dissatisfied with his current position and lack of influence—and wealth."

Geta frowned. "Do you know who?"

"No. No names yet."

"Mmm. Interesting."

"What do you mean?" Geta looked at him with a pensive expression. "I... I don't know what you want me to say." Geta's voice sounded drained, completely disinterested in the conversation. Annoyed, almost. Lucius shook his head in confusion. "I guess I thought... we thought it was best you heard it from me." He sat up, all passion and warmth draining from the room like the tide receding from the shore. "I suppose I am... curious how you feel about it." Lucius looked at his hands, feeling awkward. So much had changed. When they first talked in his study months ago, he couldn't have cared less about Geta's thoughts. Geta sighed and sank back into the cushions. "I don't know, Lucius." He looked up at the ceiling. "I don't know." Lucius lay down next to him on his side, head propped up on his elbow. He glanced at Geta's hand spread out over the cover of the book, hiding the painted sea creatures from view.

"I'm too tired to put my thoughts into words properly right now, but..." Geta put the book next to him and turned on his side. "If you're worried that I want to join those troops and turn my back on you, the answer is no." Lucius looked at him, searching his eyes. “Okay.” He nodded and turned on his back. “We can talk about it tomorrow. It’s late.”

Geta didn’t reply for a long time, then started speaking again.

"When my brother and I ruled, we rarely slept a full night," he explained. He seemed sleepy, and Lucius felt a little guilty for having brought it up at 2 in the morning.

"There was always the danger of being murdered in our sleep. We knew the stories, how our uncles, cousins, and nieces suddenly disappeared or turned up dead. We kept watch, taking turns to sleep—well, I more often than Caracalla..." He smiled faintly, as if recalling a specific memory. "For me, being in that position was never about power because we never truly had any. We were manipulated, forced into symbolic roles from birth. Ruling, for me, was simply waiting for death and who would betray us first." "But you're not safe here either." Lucius placed his hand over the scar on Geta’s midriff. "You were attacked here too." Geta nodded slowly, an intense gaze in his beautiful brown eyes. "But not by my own people," he said. His eyes swept over Lucius' face, softening. "It's a big difference." He added, placing a hand on Lucius's cheek, thumb sliding over his bottom lip. "Remember how you wanted to put me on trial a few months back?" he asked. "I do." His eyes left Lucius's mouth. "I don't mind being beneath you in rank," he said. "But I do want you to treat me as an equal. Don't force me to stay or do things I don't want to do. Freedom is most important to me." Lucius nodded. "I know." "Good." Geta let his hand drop down on the sheets. "Did I answer your question?" "Yes, you did. Thank you." Geta yawned. "Can we sleep now?" Lucius turned on his back. "Yes." Geta came closer and lay down on his chest. Lucius took the sheet and pulled it over both their bodies, then slid his fingers into the soft curls on the back of his scalp, scratching gently until Geta fell asleep.

Lucius stirred awake as sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow across the room. It had been a strange night—Geta had been restless, mumbling in his sleep and tossing about, keeping Lucius awake. As he waited for him to wake, Lucius decided it was time to ask him the question he'd been meaning to for a while. "What happened with you and your mother?" Lucius asked when Geta was awake for long enough to stretch and open his eyes fully. "What do you mean?" "You talk to her, in your sleep. Often." Lucius explained. "Oh." Geta rubbed his eyes. "She, uh..." He stretched his arms over his head, groaning softly, then turned on his side to look Lucius in the eyes. "She was hard to be around, I suppose." "What do you mean?" "She was kind of all over the place." Geta waved with his hand. "She was either cruel... calling us names, pushing us away, ignoring us..." He frowned, clearly uneasy delving into those memories. "Or she would be too... sweet." "Too sweet?" "Yes." Geta didn’t say anything for a long while, just stared into the distance, brow furrowed and jaw tense. "She could turn into the complete opposite in a matter of minutes," he continued, "often after she would have hurt us badly." Geta looked away. "She would say sweet things and be very... touchy." Lucius felt nauseous, already sensing where this was headed. "You mean..." "Yes. All over," Geta replied curtly. "Even if you said no?" It was more a statement than a question. Geta nodded, tears pooling in his eyes now. "I am so sorry." Lucius swallowed, immediately regretting that he had asked. "You don't have to talk about it." Geta sniffled softly and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Lucius didn’t know what to do, thought that maybe the last thing Geta wanted now was to be held. So he just stayed silent. After a while of watching him cry into the pillow, he couldn’t take it anymore and pulled him into his arms. "Shh," he whispered, holding him close. "That’s all in the past. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again." He kept stroking Geta’s back and shoulders, wishing he had been there to protect him and his brother Caracalla from the terrible people around them, giving them a better childhood. When Geta calmed down, he lifted his head from the crook of Lucius’s neck. "You know... I often wished your mother was mine." He looked up at Lucius. "That she would adopt us." Lucius raised his eyebrows. Geta shook his head, resting his cheek against Lucius’s shoulder again. "It’s weird. I’ve known her longer than you." Lucius frowned, staring ahead. "It is." "She was kind. And warm." Lucius nodded, thinking of his mother and how strange it was that, for part of their childhoods, they had shared the same one. "Do you miss her?" Geta inquired softly. "Terribly so." "I'm sorry. I miss her too." Lucius nodded. They stayed like that, their breaths in sync, keeping each other company in their sadness. After a while, Lucius suggested, "We should have something to eat and then head to the beach. What do you think? I feel like going for a swim." "That sounds like a splendid idea," Geta agreed, pushing himself up.

After getting dressed, they had breakfast together and headed to the beach to spend the afternoon and evening there. It was a warm day, and when they arrived, covered in a thin layer of sweat, the sea offered a welcome plunge of freshness. They dove underwater, the clear water surrounding them, and Lucius felt content. He looked at Geta’s skin, which was beginning to turn slightly sun-kissed. No matter what he had been through, Geta somehow maintained that elegant, prince-like essence and radiant air. Lucius reached out and grabbed his ankle, giving it a gentle tug. Geta, accustomed to Lucius’s ways, let him do it, calmly allowing him to press his lips against the soft ball of his foot and toes. There was no tension, only simple surrender and trust. They surfaced for air, clinging to each other as if they could never get enough—which, truthfully, they couldn’t.

The next day, they resumed their fighting lessons, and the day after that as well. Two weeks passed, and Geta began to develop new muscles in his arms and back. They had started sleeping in separate rooms again to avoid drawing attention to their bond, but it seemed futile. Everyone already knew that if one of them were taken, the other would be broken beyond repair.

Some mornings, one of them would sneak into the other’s room to spend time wrapped in each other’s arms.

"I hate that I can't sleep here anymore," Geta said one morning when Lucius had to leave for battle. "I hate it too," Lucius confessed. Geta buried his head in the crook of Lucius’s armpit. "What on earth are you doing?" Lucius asked with a chuckle. "I like it here. You smell nice." He wrapped his arms around Lucius’s waist. "When will you return?" "In a week or so. Just some small raids and checking the repaired forts." "Okay."

A week later, Lucius returned bearing new scars and the good news of victory. Geta waited for him by the gate, his eyes bright with excitement but keeping his distance. He had grown used to the unspoken rules of how they now interacted in public.

As they walked inside, a young man with blond hair and dark blue eyes, whom Lucius did not recognize, approached them. "Geta?" the young man called out. Lucius took him in. He wore a finely made tunic of deep blue material, matching his eyes, decorated with silver fish. It was clear he was of higher rank, though his accent was hard to place. Geta raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" The man cleared his throat. "I have a message for you. From your uncle." He handed him a letter sealed with beeswax. Geta accepted it. "Thank you." Lucius observed as Geta broke the seal and opened the letter. The tension in his shoulders, the way he clenched his jaw—it was clear he wanted nothing to do with it. The message was short, and seconds later, Geta folded the paper and handed it over. "Alright," he replied in a serious tone. "I'll make sure I'm ready in the morning." Lucius frowned. Ready in the morning? He was leaving so soon? "Perfect, my highness. I will wait at the shore." Highness? Lucius thought to himself. That's how he still referred to him? Geta gave a short nod, and the young man disappeared as quickly as he had come.

Lucius and Geta went their separate ways in the halls and prepared for the festivities held in the garden. Lucius felt a slight unease at the thought of Geta leaving the following morning but couldn't place what exactly made him nervous. They found each other outside as the light faded, torches illuminating the pillars and olive trees stretching throughout the garden. Geta was dressed in white and buttercup yellow, one bare shoulder showing his scar. It pleased Lucius that he was starting to accept them, but it also worried him as it was a display of vulnerability. They stared at each other for a bit, not saying anything. Lucius wanted to speak to him before his departure but decided to save it for later and went to look for Laurentius and Marcus to discuss the events of the past week as Geta went looking for Marcella.

Almost an hour later, they reunited near the fountain. "How are you feeling?" Lucius asked, taking Geta's hand and giving it a soft squeeze. "You alright?" "Yes, I'm alright." Geta erplied, "Dreading it, but alright." "You'll be fine. You’ll have some nice, fancy dinners... eat some Sardinian fish, talk to your uncle a bit, and then you'll return home. To me," Lucius reassured him. Geta smiled. "Sounds good." Lucius desperately wanted to ask what precisely was in the message to make Geta agree so fast, but didn’t want to pry, so he let it be. "I should get some sleep," Geta decided, looking around the garden at the guests drinking wine and dancing. Nobody was paying attention to them. "You can stay of course." Lucius rubbed the inside of Geta's wrist with his thumb, wanting to understand what was going on in his mind. "Alright." He pressed a swift kiss on top of his head. "I'll walk you to the harbor tomorrow." Geta breathed in. "I'd like that."

That night, Lucius lay down on his bed, unclothed. It was too hot for even the thinnest of night garments. He was deep in thought, feeling pathetic over how sad he was about Geta's impending departure, reminding himself that it was only for a week or two. Then suddenly, he heard soft voices on the other side of the door. He got dressed quickly, walked over, and pressed his ear against the wood. His guards were talking to someone. Lucius strained his ears, then shook his head.

It was Geta.

He opened the door and took him in. He was standing there in his blue nightrobe, hair disheveled and a look in his eyes Lucius could not place. Lucius gestured with his head for him to come inside, and Geta immediately walked forward and pressed his lips to his. Lucius kicked the door closed.

"It's dangerous, what you're doing, Geta," he murmured. "I don't care," Geta insisted and kept kissing him all over. "What is with you?" Lucius grinned. "I don't know." Geta bit down on Lucius’s bottom lip, making him wince. "I feel weird." "Nervous?" "Something like it." "Want me to distract you?" Lucius requested between kisses, already feeling heat pooling low in his stomach. "Yes, please." Lucius groaned softly. "Okay." He pulled back and sat down on the edge of his bed, gesturing to the middle of the room. "Undress," he ordered.

Geta's eyes widened slightly, then the corner of his mouth tipped up slightly.

Lucius stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing his ankles. "I want to look at you." Geta walked over to the spot Lucius pointed at and started untying his robe, pushing it down his shoulders, down his chest, his waist, his hips...

Lucius swallowed, leaning back on his hands. He could never get enought of the sight of Geta's naked form, the way he moved— unselfconscious, confident and utterly captivating. Geta stepped out of the fabric and straightened, a hint of shyness suddenly returning, cheeks flushing pink.

“You’re staring,” he said softly, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed that he didn’t mind.

“I can’t help it,” Lucius admitted, standing and closing the space between them. "I can never help it." He reached out, placing a hand on the side of his hip.

"Turn around." Lucius ordered gently and then tapped the inside of Geta's foot. 'Spread sligtly.' Geta stepped wider. Lucius walked around him and went to his knees, put a hand on his lower back to push him forward a little.

'Let me take care of you." His voice was soft. He reached out to take Geta's hands and put them on either side of his butt. "Spread please."

Geta whined at the sound of that and did as his was told, opening himself up.

Lucius moved closer and stuck out his tongue, licking inbetween the valley of his cheeks from the bottem to the top.

Geta let out a gutteral moan, wanting to collapse forward.

'Nuh-uh, stay upright darling." Lucius demanded and wrapped his hand around Geta's thighs to steady him. He licked him again, closer and closer to where he wanted him most, then pressed in slightly.

"Relax." He mumbled, pushing deeper. Geta's breathing turned laboured. He kept wriggling and shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

Lucius squeezed his inner thigh, massaging upward. Geta's breath hitched, making Lucius chuckle.

Geta whimpered. "Please."

"Mmm." Lucius kept licking, reveling in the way he felt, tasted, the sounds he made. Geta's hand came to lay on top of Lucius, a plea for more.

Lucius pulled back a litlle. "Okay lay down on the bed."

Geta got up, using Lucius shoulder to steady himself and walked over, then lay down stretched out on his back.

Lucius shook his head. "No on your tummy."

Geta did as he was told and Lucius lowered himself inbetween his legs. "I am going to put a finger inside of you. Is that okay?"

"Yes." Geta breathed.

Lucius bent over the slope of his ass and spit, wachting the saliva disappear in the crease. He licked his ringfinger, slipped it inbetween, and started rubbing small circles. Then he pushed it in slightly, fully tuned in to Geta's reactions.

"Is this okay?" He asked.

Geta nodded.

"I need your consent in words, sweetheart."

"Yes." Geta groaned in the pillow.

"Good." Lucius pushed in deeper, waiting for Geta to adjust before he pushed it in in it's entirety. He stayed there for a moment, pushed to the hilt, before slowly moving it in and out while gaging Geta's reactions. Geta started grinding his hips against the sheet slowly, face still burried in the pillow.

"I need more." he ground out, teeth clenched, desperate.

Lucius tried adding his middlefinger. "You're too tight honey." He rubbed his hand over his lower back. "You need time to adjust. No use in rushing."

"You dont know what my uncle will do to me." Geta whined. "He might kill me."

"No he wont." Lucius said. "You will come back and we will do much more of this." Lucius kissed the left cheek of his ass, then bit into him, soothing the sting after with tongue. "Now think of other things and close your eyes." Lucius replaced his ringfinger with his middle one, which made Geta gasp for air like a fish on dry land.

He kept grinding against the sheets, desperate for fricture. Lucius loved seeing him this desperate. When he felt Geta was reaching his limit he pulled his finger out, flipped him over. Geta was breathless, eyes closed, somewhere else completely.

"You don't have to hold on Geta." Lucius said, then stroked the length of him. Even the slightest touches made his face contort like he was in pain almost. "You can let go, I am right here. I will hold you thought it." He pressed his lips against his lower belly, then licked his finger and pushed it in again. "You are safe." He ghosted his lips over his skin. "With me, you’ll always be safe."

These words pushed Geta over the edge and he came making a desperate sound, spilling all over his belly. Lucius took him in, the way his hands clenched around the linen, the way his hips came off the mattress, then down again. He wished he could stay in this moment forever. He moved his lips down the inner part of Geta's legs listening how Geta's breathing slowly came back to normal and his eyes fluttered open.

Lucius, still clothed, took him in his arms and held him untill he was fully aware of his surroundings again. He brushed a stray lock of hair from Geta’s forehead.

"Are you ready to sleep?" He asked. "You have a long journey ahead of you tomorrow. Geta looked at him, cheeks still flushed and shook his head.

"No." He took in a sharp breath. "I want to see you touch youself." His voice was low and sensual, full of longing. "I have thought about it for so long. I want to see you now."

Lucius swallowed. He looked around the room, feeling uncertain. No one had ever watched him do that. Not even Arishat. He looked at Geta who looked at him with eyes full of expextation. Lucius gave a quick nod and got up from the bed. He took a few steps, turned around and slowly started to undress himself. When he was fully naked he sat down on his knees again and took himself in his right hand. At first he kept his eyes closed, but then he opened them. Geta was lying on the bed, propped up on his elbows, lips wet and slightly parted. His legs were stretched out in front of him, feet dangling over the edge. Geta looked at him intently, following every move.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are." Geta said, eyes almost sad.

Lucius kept his eyes on him as he started moving his hand up and down, skin warming. Geta's chest was rising and falling quicker and quicker until suddenly he got up and walked over to him. He lowered himself in front of Lucius. His hand went to his jaw and he stroked the seem of Lucius lips, just as he had done before.

'Can I spit in your mouth?' he asked then, as if it was the most natural thing.

Lucius swallowed and nodded.

"Don't stop touching yourself please.' Geta whispered as he got closer and smoothed the hair from Lucius' face.

'Now open your mouth.'

Lucius did as he was told and parted his lips.

Instead of spitting, Geta opened his mouth and waited as his saliva dribbled in. Lucius groaned and swallowed, reaching up to lick the rest off his bottomlip and tongue, drinking him in. He wanted more more more.

Geta shook his head and pushed him down.

'No." He shook his head again, a grin playing on his lips. "Keep touching yourself. I want to see you come."

Lucius did not know why he listened. He was way stronger than Geta, he could do anything he wanted to him. Yet he reveled in Geta's power and prince-like arrogance. He was royalty at heart after all.

Lucius quickened his movements, jerking his hips slightly upward into his hand.

He was getting close now, and Geta could sense it. He walked behind him and sat down, chest pressed up against his warm back. He dropped his chin on Lucius shoulder.

'Here. Let me finish.' He gently pulled Lucius' hand away and replaced it with his. Lucius whimpered and let his head drop backwards. Geta started moving his hand in the same rhythm and pressed his lips against his ear.

''Let go.' Geta whispered. "Let me take care of you now."

Lucius groaned softly and tried to hold back, but he was defensless against Geta's soft but firm grip, his low whispers and his hips pressing up against his backside.

"Come for me, Lucius. It's okay."

And he did. His awareness slipped for a moment and all he felt was warmth, light and bliss. He felt both extatic, and completely held. Geta kissed his neck, hands rubbing over his chest and lower abdomen.

"Feels nice hmm?" Geta breathed into the skin of his neck.

Lucius was unable to reply, everything felt warm and fuzzy. He had never in his life let himself go like that. He wondered if he should feel emberrassed.

Geta traced the outer shell of his ear with his tongue. "Thank you." He murmured. "Thank you for letting me look at you and touch you."

Lucius felt a little lost in everything he felt and could not place. He turned around and took Geta into his arms. I love you. He thought. But he did not say it. I love you felt like a goodbye. Like it was the last time he'd be able to say it. And that couldn't be. So instead he said: "Let's try to get some sleep."

Geta nodded against his shoulder. "Yes."

----

The next morning, Lucius walked Geta to the harbor.

The water was emerald green and shimmered under the summer sun. It was a beautiful day, but neither of them cared.

A small ship waited close to shore, with a smaller boat ready to take Geta to it. The blonde man stood by the water’s edge, waves almost touching his boots. Lucius wanted to kiss Geta goodbye, but he knew better. He didn’t trust the young man, nor the fishermen milling around nearby.

Geta pulled Lucius into a tight hug, burying his face in his shoulder.

“We have to say goodbye far too often,” Geta said, his voice low. “I’m starting to hate it more than anything.”

Lucius pressed him closer, his chest aching. “I know.”

Geta pulled away first, his eyes dropping to the ground. He rubbed the back of his neck, then glanced at the boat waiting for him.

“I guess it’s time,” he said with a sigh.

Lucius Squeezed his shoulder. “It’ll be okay. You’ll be back before you know it.”

Geta managed a weak smile. “I’ll look forward to it.”

He hesitated, then met Lucius’s eyes. “Last night was special to me Lucius." His eyes searched Lucius's, looking for confirmation perhaps that he felt the same.

Lucius swallowed, feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden. “As it was to me.”

They stood there in silence, caught in the weight of the moment. Lucius noticed the blonde man watching them from the corner of his eye and sighed. “You better go.”

Geta nodded, his steps reluctant as he walked toward the boat. “See you soon.”

Lucius dipped his chin in agreement. “See you soon,”

Please let me hear your thought in the comments :) <3

Taglist: @potato1d-blog1 , @joan2914, @maryan028

[transhuman-priestess]

The follow-up to The New Flesh. Read that one first!

15 months prior to the raid on the Blair Mountain, Captain Terry Holder butts heads with her Chief Engineer as an unknown threat bears down on their ship.

This story does not contain sexual themes, however it is part of a larger work which does, therefore, this story is only for consumption by legal adults over the age of 18. It includes moderate violence, and coarse language.

January 14, 2253 1041 Earth UTC

15 months prior to the raid on the Blair Mountain

The Hildas, 550 Million Kilometers from Jupiter

“Chester, how long do you think we’re going to be stuck here?” Captain Terry Holder asked.

She and her first mate, Chester Silvera, were sitting in the mess hall of the Huntington. The ore hauler had been coasting .9 AU from 153 Hilda for 56 hours with a damaged ablator in her #2 main engine. Holder was growing restless.

Silvera, on the other hand, was in a fine mood. “Why are you so eager to get back to port?” He was downing his third slice of pizza since taking a seat 10 minutes ago. Holder couldn’t understand where his appetite came from.

“It’s creepy out here,” she said, “The nearest station is 6 days away. It takes 10 minutes for someone to even hear a distress signal. There’s nothing outside the hull. We’re alone.”

“Captain,” Silvera replied, smirking “You are aware that you can, in point of fact, choose a different occupation than deep space captain, correct?”

“Shut up,” Holder said, smiling. “You know what I mean.” She leaned back in her chair. She’d barely touched the chicken Parmesan she’d gotten from the replicator.

“You’ve been out here for 15 years, Terry,” Silvera said, slipping effortlessly into confidant mode, “You’ve been a captain for 8. You’re used to this. What’s different now?”

Holder sighed. Chester, as always, knew how to get to the heart of the matter. She sat for a moment, not wanting to say it out loud, but knowing she couldn’t hide it from her friend and crewmate. Finally, she said, “It’s Powell.”

“The engineer?” Silvera seemed genuinely surprised.

“Yeah,” said Holder, her hand idly falling to the nickel-plated pistol she wore on her hip, “I don’t like her attitude.” She rubbed her thumb on the hammer, feeling the familiar knurling, catching her thumbnail on a well-worn burr.

“You seem to get along with her just fine.” His pizza lay forgotten on the plate, he was all business now.

“Well, that’s what they pay me for, Chester.” She took a bite of chicken to buy some time before continuing, “She’s arrogant, inflexible, obsessed with rules and procedure.” She tossed her fork to the table. Chester scooted back slightly, sensing one of his captain’s moods coming on. Holder stood and began pacing.

“It’s always ‘SOP says this!’ or ‘The tech manual says that!’ always coming up with excuses why something can’t be done, except when it’s something she wants done, then procedure flies out the fucking door!” She ran her hand through her hair in frustration.

“Terry-”

“We’ve been coasting for two and a half days.”

“Terry is-”

“She told me that she has to strip the bell down to the cooling tubes for fuck’s sake.”

“TERRY!” Silvera banged his hand on the table for emphasis. Holder stopped talking.

“Yeah, Chester?”

“This is about the pistol, isn’t it?”

Holder rolled her eyes, “No, it’s not about the fucking pistol.”

“Isn’t it, though?”

The engraved, nickel-plated .45 was a family heirloom. Captains in the Civil Navy were allowed sidearms for ceremonial purposes, but they weren’t supposed to wear them outside of certain occasions. Of course, in deep space, the captain had more or less free reign, barring mutiny, and Terry liked the feeling of the heavy steel on her hip. She didn’t keep it loaded, though she did keep 2 magazines of hollow-points on her belt.

She’d never had to draw it in anger, though there had been a few close calls with pirates where she’d gone as far as to carry it cocked and locked. But that was on her old ship, the Joachimstahl.

This was her first sortie in command of the Huntington. She’d inherited the ship from a retiring captain, Jack Thorton, and the crew along with it, including the old engineer, who immediately took issue with Terry’s habit of wearing the piece. She’d actually pulled Chester aside to complain about it. It pissed Terry off.

Chester smiled gently. “Terry, I’ve known you five years. I’ve been your right hand for two. You need to get over this grudge.”

“She’s a little shit, Chester.”

“She is a fine engineer. Captain Thorton had nothing but praise for her. Has she ever disobeyed an order?”

“No, but-”

“Has she ever put the crew in danger?”

“No, but-”

“Then you need to drop this little grudge, and you know that.”

Terry was about to argue when her the radio on her belt chirped.

“Captain,” the voice of Jill Cambell, her radar navigator, “There’s something weird on the scope here.”

Terry keyed to reply “What do you mean by weird?”

“I mean I’ve never seen anything move this fast. You better get up here.”

“Be there in a minute.”

***

Captain Holder and First Mate Silvera walked onto the bridge of the Huntington. The radar station was the only one currently occupied. Campbell turned to them as they walked through the door.

“Alright, Jill,” said Terry, “What’s cracking?”

“About 20 minutes ago I got an off radar return about an AU out on the long-range band.” Campbell reported, “No exhaust signature, and it was redshifting so much I thought the scope might be broken.”

“And?”

“It’s not.” Campbell said, tossing a hand in the air. “I switched to the secondary dish. Same cross-section. Same redshift. Hit it with the high-rez, same cross section, same redshift. Whatever it is, it’s at least 50 meters long and it’s moving at O.1C.”

“So send a message to SETI’s Europa Division.” Terry was amazed but couldn’t understand why Campbell had called her to the bridge for this, “I mean, that’s incredible, really, it is, but if they’re moving away from us what’s the rush?

“Well,” Campbell seemed nervous, “Now they’re blueshifting.”

“Bullshit,” Holder dropped the word like a bag of bricks, “How is that possible? Even if something could put out that much delta-v, in that short a span, the g forces of changing direction would rip it to pieces.”

“I don’t know how, Captain,” Campbell said, turning back to the scope. “But I’d really like to have a plan when they get here.

***

“Fucking Christ, whose god damn idea was this?” Chief Engineer Genevieve Powell cursed to herself.

“Sorry Chief,” Engineer’s Mate Karl Miller said over the radio, “I uh, didn’t copy that.”

“Whoever designed the Shinkolobwe-class engine is either a sadist, an idiot, or both.” Powell replied, “This engine is pissing me off.”

She was nearing the end of a 4-hour long EVA replacing a cracked ablator panel right in the throat of the massive 10-meter fusion rocket. When the engines were active, the reactors would vent hot plasma out the back at temperatures approaching that of the surface of the sun, sending the ship moving in the opposite direction and accelerating it to a top speed of 20 million kilometers per hour.

But right now, they weren’t doing anything of the sort. The ablator shield, a layer of boronated plastic 4 meters thick meant to both protect the engine bells from melting and absorb excess neutrons, was cracked, right in the throat. With the ablator shield damaged, the plume coming out of the rocket engine wouldn’t be smooth and even, but roiling with turbulence. Turbulence that would, at best, drop the propulsive efficiency enough to put serious differential stresses on the spaceframe. At worst, it would impinge on the hull, or through to the engine bell, either way burning through and destroying the ship.

Which was why Powell had been awake for 40 hours. Why she and the engineering team had been working in shifts to painstakingly repair the panel. Angle grinders, caulk guns full of boron paste, a portable X-ray unit, and lots and lots of elbow grease.

“Miller,” Powell said, wiping her cheek on the inside of her helmet. “You ever wonder whose brilliant fucking idea was it to use ablative shielding instead of magnetic on a 100-giganewton fusion engine?”

“Can’t say I have,” Miller replied, “You’re gonna have to take that up with Tycho Shipbuilding. Captain wants to know your ETA.”

“God dammit,” The Captain was pissing Powell off. No respect for the work involved in keeping nuclear fusion going without blowing the whole ship to hell, or bombarding the crew with fast neutrons, or turning them all into sludge with 100g burns. “Is this about me not using the tether?” The umbilical tether was supposed to be worn whenever the EVA thruster pack was in use, as a backup, in case the thrusters failed. Powell hated the damn thing. It got in the way and the thruster pack was reliable enough she didn’t need it.

“Uh, I don’t think so, Chief.”

“It’ll be done when it’s fucking done. I’ve got another 3 meters of length on this bitch of a crack. It goes 45 centimeters deep. It’s going to take at least another 10 hours to fill that.”

There was a pause as Miller relayed this to the captain, then, “Uh, Chief,” Miller said, nervously, “Captain says you have an hour.”

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN? Put her on, now.”

“She says there’s some kind of pirates bearing in on us in 60 minutes.”

Powell rolled her eyes, “That’s not possible. There wasn’t anything within 4 AU of us when I came out here. Tell her I’m not doing anything without talking to her first.”

A brief pause on Miller’s end, then, “Have it your way.”

Powell continued grinding at the crack for a moment. Then Holder’s voice came on. “Powell, I know we don’t get along,” that was an understatement, Powell thought, “But Campbell confirmed this thing is moving at one-tenth c, heading directly towards us. It’s crossed 20 million clicks since she started tracking it. It actually reversed direction to come this way. I know it sounds like bullshit, but I need you to get whatever you can filled and get back into the airlock. I sent out a distress signal but I won’t hear back from Hilda station for at least another 2 minutes”

“Captain, you can’t just rush something like this!” Powell protested, “The differential forces alo-”

Holder cut her off, “I’m aware of the structural ramifications. It’s my ship and that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Captain,” Powell said, “how are we going to outrun something a hundred times faster than us?”

“We’re not. But I’ll need the engines. Trust me.”

Powell gritted her teeth. She couldn’t stand Holder, but Campbell was good. She and Powell had served together under Thorton, and Campbell had helped Powell develop a couple of scanning tools for the engines that worked a hell of a lot better than stock equipment.

“If Campbell’s sure then. I can maybe get you 10 cm of depth along the rest of the crack. It won’t be good for the full trip back to Europa but I should be able to get you enough dV to get us on our way before I have to come back here and fix it again.”

Holder thought for a moment, then replied, “Make it so, Jenna.”

“Aye captain.”

For the next 45 minutes, Powell broke rule after rule for ablator repair. Instead of x-raying the crack she ground it down to 15 centimeters visually. She filled it in with ablator paste and smoothed it by hand before it had cured instead of sanding it once it was dry. By the end of the ordeal, she had used 100 kilos of ablator paste, far less than the 700 the job properly needed. She looked out at a nearby asteroid as they drifted past, and said into her mic, “Miller?”

“Chief?” came Miller’s soft voice through the headset. Powell saw a glint of something off by the big rock in space.

“Tell the captain I’m climbing out. I’ll be at the airlock in 5-” Powell was cut off by a squeel of static and a flash of bright light from the dorsal side of the ship. The shock jolted the Huntington and knocked Powell against the inside of the engine bell. She felt her shoulder crack. The screeching of static faded but was replaced by her own cries of agony. She was floating out towards the center of the nozzle, she couldn’t move her fingers to control the maneuvering pack.

Another flash and another impact jolted the ship vertically. Static filled Powell’s ears as she bounced into the bottom of the engine bell and then up, out into the vast expanse of space.

***

“Owens, damage report,” Holder barked.

Iris Owens responded, “Two detonations in the 2 kiloton range, a kilometer dorsal of us. Numbers 5 and 6 radiators showing a pressure drop. The rest are showing overheat but coming down.”

It had been an ambush. Holder didn’t know how it happened, but it couldn’t have been anything else. Somehow the two ships, 10 light-minutes away from each other, had coordinated. While the Huntington had been busy worrying about the distant ship, another had been hiding behind a nearby asteroid.

There wasn’t time to think about it though, “Miller,” Holder barked, “Pitch us up 115 degrees, roll 45 starboard.”

“Pitch up 115, roll 45 starboard.”

“Powell, what’s your status?”

***

Powell couldn’t move her right arm. The impact had shattered her shoulder blade and humerus. Her RCS system was giving her a warning that one of the quads had malfunctioned. Even if she’d been able to move the translation control, it wouldn’t have done any good.

I’m going to die out here, she realized.

Flashes of warm yellow-white light appeared behind her. The hypergolic RCS system was pitching the ship up, rolling it to the right. She watched as the huge ship seemed to breech like a whale, then pirouette. Over her radio she heard the captain’s voice, “Powell, what’s your status.”

“I’m alive!” she’d never been so happy to hear Terry Holder’s stupid fucking voice, “I’m alive but I can’t get back to the airlock! My thrusters are damaged and my shoulder’s broken.”

“Powell?” came the captain’s voice again, “Powell can you read me?”

“I can read you,” Powell shouted, tearing up from pain, or maybe from fear, “I can read you! Please respond.”

She realized that Holder couldn’t hear her. The wire for the microphone must have been damaged by the impact that broke her shoulder.

She was alone out here.

***

“Miller,” Holder said, “What’s Powell’s biomed say.”

Miller turned red in the face and stammered, “Uhhh,”

“Miller I do not have time for this, what’s her biomed say?”

“She isn’t wearing it.”

“What​?”

“She said she didn’t have time to put it on.”

“Retract her tether.”

“She’s not wearing that either.”

Holder felt ice creep down her spine. The whole scene seemed to go quiet and time stood still. In 8 years as a captain, Holder had never lost a crew member. She hadn’t even considered it a real possibility. But now, with her chief engineer missing and unresponsive, she didn’t know what to do. It felt like she was a lieutenant again, fresh out of training. She looked at Silvera, pleading.

Chester, for his part, looked as disturbed as she was. But he kept his cool, “Its your call, Captain.”

Holder knew what she should do, but that didn’t make it any easier. The fact she couldn’t stand Powell made it even harder, somehow. But if Powell wasn’t responding, and there was no way to retrieve her, then she was dead, one way or the other. Holder didn’t want to think about it.

Time started again, “Owens, get ready to dump ore bay 3. Miller, point the ventral hull at that ship and be ready with a 200m/s dorsal burn.”

***

The ship swung away from Powell, but then continued through its arc and, incredibly, came close enough to her that she was able to grab a handrail, only 20 meters from the airlock.

She scrambled to gain a foothold as she held on tight with her one good arm. This was a long shot, but it was her only hope for survival. She found purchase, and set her aim, then kicked and swung herself around, spinning head over heels. For 3 eternal seconds, she drifted through space, only inky black and stars filling her vision. Then the ship came back into view, and she grabbed at the first thing she could see and held on for dear life.

She’d grabbed one of the many high-gain antennae that dotted the hull. Carefully, she slid her hand down and pulled herself towards the hull. She was only 5 meters from the airlock. As her hand made contact with the hull, she felt a rumble through it. She looked around, and her heart dropped.

***

“Ore bay 3 open, Captain,” said Owens.

“Good. Disengage cargo restraints.”

“Cargo restraints disengaged”

“Miller, 200m/s dorsal,” Holder commanded

“200 m/s dorsal, captain.” Came Miller’s reply.

***

The roof of the ship lit up all around Powell. She could feel the heat from the thrusters. The sudden change in environment made her jump, and she lost her grip on the antenna. Relief turned, once again, to mortal dread as the Huntington sped away from her, leaving her floating, dying, in deep space, billions of kilometers from her home in Dublin.

***

“Dorsal burn complete, captain.” Said Miller.

“Good,” said Holder, “Now put that ore between us and that ship, face us away from it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She would only have one chance to make this work, but Holder was a star poker player and knew how to use a bum hand to her advantage. Hold 3 had, until a minute ago, contained 20,000 metric tons of dense iridium ore. The Huntington didn’t have any armaments, but that didn’t mean she was defenseless.

“Holder, on my mark, engage engines, full power. Skip the purge burn.”

Miller nodded, “Preparing to fire main engines.”

***

The captain had jettisoned the contents of bay 3. Powell was beyond panic now. Not calm, but something else entirely. Numb to everything around her, she watched with a detached fascination as the ship pitched downward and yawed to starboard, before translating forward slightly, and finally starboard. It settled with the #2 engine that she’d just been working on a mere 10 meters away. She could see the big regenerative cooling tubes and the mounting cavity behind them.

She watched as the bell shuddered slightly, and recognition dawned on her. She hoped she wouldn’t feel what was coming next.

***

“Ignition complete.” came Miller’s clipped voice, “Standing by for full-power burn.”

Captain Holder got on the PA, “All hands, prepare for burn in 10 seconds.”

A preternatural calm came over the Captain. She hoped that Powell’s work had been enough. With 3 seconds left before the burn, she opened a channel, hoping Powell would somehow hear her, and said, “Please forgive me, Jenna.”

The two main engines of the Civil Ship Huntington spooled up. The ship’s dual fusion reactors pumping liquefied lithium deuteride into preburners that heated the silver grey dust hot enough to push it past liquid and gas and into ionized plasma, so hot the electrons and nuclei were ripped apart by sheer kinetic energy.

That was only the beginning, though. Next, the reactor squeezed down with a magnetic field stronger than the sun’s, and as the plasma was squeezed and heated even further, strong forces in the lithium atoms broke down, creating hydrogen and tritium, the latter of which sought out another atom to join itself to and, finding deuterium, they embraced, creating helium. As they did, each of them sacrifice a small portion of its mass to ensure this wedding would endure and, in doing so, a tiny fraction of each of those atoms was transformed, vanished from existence, into pure energy. This happened billions of trillions of times in a single second, and all of that energy had to go somewhere. Knowing this, the ship’s computer opened a hole in the magnetic confinement that coincided with the opening in the engine bell. Kinetic energy and Sir Issac’s third law dictated what happpened next.

Superheated plasma existed the engine bell at a temperature unmeasurable by any mechanical means, directly at the mass of iridium behind the ship. Much of the heavy metal immediately evaporated, but some survived, now white-hot and superheated, and heading directly towards the unknown ship assailing the Huntington at nearly 20 million kilometers per hour. The kinetic energy imparted transferred itself immediately to the ship, shredding it as easily as buckshot would disintegrate a clay pigeon. The Huntington sped away under her own power as the enemy ship dissolved under the barrage.

***

There is no air in space, thus there is no convection. There is, however, thermal radiation. The bulk of the plasma had been directed behind the Huntington, but the brilliant white-hot glow of her engines carried heat as well as light. It was this heat, in a pulse that lasted only 10 milliseconds before the Huntington sped away, that struck Jenna Powell.

For 10 milliseconds, every inch of her space suit that had been facing the engine, as well as her face, were heated to incandescence. Only her flesh and hair burned. The suit’s suppression system temporarily flooded her helmet with CO2, which worked to quell it within 2 seconds, but the damage had been done. The exterior of her suit, unable to ignite due to the lack of oxygen, instead boiled off. The sudden release of energy propelling her backwards, away from the rocket blast, saving her from the quick and painless death she had expected.

She screamed. She screamed and she cried. She was alone. Alone, and dying. She thought about home. About the Wicklow Mountains, about the sound of rain on a March evening, about the warmth of her bed. She thought about all of these, and how she would never see them again.

A shadow appeared over her. She felt herself being pulled backwards. Suddenly, an unfamiliar hallway appeared around her. A door closed in front of her, and she heard the hiss of an airlock pressurizing. After the silence of space and her ordeal, the sound was like a hammer in her brain.

She felt artificial gravity engage, and fell to the floor on her broken shoulder. She couldn’t even muster the energy to scream.

A pair of strangely mechanical armored legs appeared in front of her, and she felt herself lifted off the floor by powerful hands. A twisted face came into view, covered in wires and metal.

“Do not resist,” the figure said, its voice feminine and curiously synthetic, “You will become beautiful.”

Jenna Powell blacked out.

[eshippro]

Less than Container Load Shipment

Less than Container Load (LCL)

LCL stands for "Less than Container Load." It is a term used in the shipping industry to describe a mode of transportation where a shipment does not fill an entire standard cargo container. Instead, multiple shipments from different shippers are consolidated and loaded into the same container. This allows smaller shipments to share space and costs, making it a cost-effective option for businesses or individuals with cargo that doesn't warrant the use of a full container. LCL shipping is commonly used in ocean freight, especially when the cargo volume is not large enough to justify a full container.

https://e-ship.sg/assets/img/lcl.jpg

Secure your LCL Shipment within Seconds!

1. Efficient Cost Management

Pay only for the space your shipment uses, optimizing your expenses.

2. Secure and Shield Your Cargo

Ensure the safety of low-volume shipments by transporting them together in an LCL container.

3. Stable Shipping Rates

Benefit from predictable and steady LCL rates, avoiding the volatility associated with FCL rates.

Book your LCL Shipment in Seconds

Compare thousands of LCL rates and select the most competitive option for low-volume shipments.

Optimize Your Costs

Pay only for the amount of space your shipment occupies.

Compact and protect your cargo

Low-volume shipments are safer when shipped together in an LCL container.

Ship With Stable Rates

LCL rates are less volatile than FCL rates.

Advantages of LCL Shipping

Share container space with others, and only pay for the space your cargo takes up.

Get lower shipping rates for smaller shipments with LCL.

Ship different quantities without needing a whole container, adjusting to your business needs.

Use LCL as a convenient way to introduce your goods to international trade and reach global markets.

Ship smaller amounts more often to reduce inventory costs and improve supply chain management.

What makes our LCL shipping services a great choice?

Cost Efficiency : Pay for the space you need, making it cost-effective for smaller shipments.

Flexibility : Ship varying quantities without committing to a full container, adapting to your changing business requirements.

Global Reach : Access international markets by leveraging LCL cargo as a practical entry point for your goods.

Optimized Supply Chain : Minimize inventory holding costs by shipping smaller quantities more frequently, enhancing overall supply chain management.

Reliability : Benefit from our reliable LCL shipping services for timely and efficient transportation of your cargo.

[yuliasolsystem]

I'm back today not to whine about Legato or Knives and how the fandom sees them differently than I do, but about the Plants. And how the fandom sees them differently than I do.

It really upsets me that people don't realize how terrible the situation of the Plants in the manga is.

Their position is worse than slavery, they are literally livestock to be consumed. Everyone thinks that on Earth and the other colonies the burden on the Plants must be less because people there aren't fighting for survival. But that's the problem with humanity, we take more than we need to survive, and humanity in TriMax is quite realistic in that sense. Even on No Man's Land, there are rich people who enjoy luxuries simply because they can, not because they will die without them. And where life is better, there are only more such people. Also technologically advanced civilizations consume more energy, so no, it's unlikely that on Earth the load on the Plants is less, it's just that there's an option to replace those who died with new ones.

There's also the argument that "Plants want to be energy sources themselves". But I don't think that's true. They are artificially produced, they have no choice what to do with their life. Yes, the Plants feel sorry for humans, because Plants are kind beings capable of empathy, but that doesn't mean they accept their situation. The Plants of No Man's Land went with Knives of their own free will, and from what the Earthlings are saying, the Plants on Earth and in other colonies are also starting rebellions here and there.

Yes, at the end of the manga the humans agreed to "coexist" with the Plants, but what exactly was supposed to change? In the last chapter, we see that they built a large Plant dome in Octovern. Also, that there are now televisions on No Man's Land, which most likely run on the same energy from the Plants, because no other energy sources were shown and we've seen that the Earthlings' ships are powered by the Plants, so it's unlikely that there's any other energy source at all. So all that's changed is the container that holds the Plants. But even if humans sincerely wanted to do Plants justice, what could they give them? In fact, the Plants don't even need light bulbs or a dome. As mentioned in the manga, the dependent Plants have a sort of collective intelligence, so merging is no danger to them, and once merged they can function without human support. They only came back because humans would die without them, not the other way around.

Ideally, production of dependent Plants should be stopped and independent Plants should be allowed to negotiate the terms of their coexistence with humans, since they are able to communicate with both sides, but as I mentioned above, dependent Plants are still a source of energy for Earthlings at least, independent Plants on Earth are controlled by the government (according to the Chronica they all have some kind of neuro-blocking), and Vash is hunted by soldiers and bounty hunters.

What I want to say is that the only possible kind of coexistence between Plants and humans is as a source of energy/food and a consumer, i.e. either livestock and owner or parasite and host.

[fictionlover100]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓹𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓼 𝓘𝓷-𝓑𝓮𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓷: Prolouge

Synopsis: Hanbin sets out to find his crew one by one he finds them.

Genre: Sci-fi Adventure, Angst

Pairings: ZB1 X OC

Word count: 5.2k (5,286)

Info/ Masterlist / Next

The Space ship was significant, containing at least 18 bedrooms with workout space, a kitchen, and many more amenities. However, the ship was heavily damaged and needed constant repairs.  Hanbin had been saving up for this ship for a long time. He worked on cargo loading and transport for a long time. He was excited to finally be able to start his own journey with his own crew.  But, now that he is in front of it, he feels alone and isolated. He needs to find a crew and fast, preferably some people who can work on fixing the ship. He was so lost in thought, staring at the ship, that he hadn’t realized the kid was standing beside him. 

 “This is sick. I haven’t seen a ship this size since I was 8.” The person spoke, looking at the ship with a smile. 

The person turns to Hanbin, extends their hand, and states,“ I’m Han Yujin, by the way. I'm here to show you how the ship works.”

Hanbin is silent at first. This kid in front of him could not be more than 13 years old. 

How can he tell me about the tech on the ship? It's probably older than him. 

“I know I look young. I grew up around the ship,” Yujin states when Hanbin looks at him with a confused face. 

“I’m Hanbin. How old are you? Shouldn’t you be in school?” Hanbin extended his hand hesitantly, and Yujin accepted, shaking it back.

“I'm 16. Growing up, I just studied many ships in my free time, so it's like second nature,” Yujin led Hanbin onto the ship. 

“ I notice that there seems to be a lot of issues with the oxygen system, so I can repair that before you head off…” Yujin rambles on about the issue of the ship, and in Hanbin eyes, Yujin would be perfect, but he might be young for the type of work he wants to do. “... also light travel will be tougher due to the size, but I can add that on in--” 

Hanbin interrupts Yujin, “ Why don’t you join my crew? It is clear this ship needs repair, and if you can spot those little details to fix. You are smarter than most ship repair people.” 

Yujin was stunned. He had thought of sinking on a ship and leaving, but who would help train the new mechanic? What about his friends? He can’t leave them. 

“ I appreciate the offer, but I have friends that need me,” Yujin stated in a dejecting way.

“It's clear you want to come. Do these friends of yours have skills like you?” Hanbin asks. Yujin thinks maybe they can join him. But he doesn’t know if they want to leave this planetary system. 

“ I have one friend who is good with computers and tech. The others get into fights a lot, though” Yujin states, laughing and looking at anything but Hanbin.

“ Well, I’m here for the next few days; why don’t you introduce me, and maybe they can join you too?” Hanbin states he thought finding his crew might be a good idea.

“ Uh… If they agree, then I’ll join.” Yujin states 

Gyuvin was sitting in the stands outside a cage with a computer in his hands. He couldn't care less who was in the ring; he was more focused on trying to find work as a technology expert. The crowd around him was loud and noisy, yelling at the people in the cage—some people flaunting their wealth and screaming at the fight in the ring. The current match that everyone was screaming at nearly the end of the match. Gyuvin was only here waiting for one person, and his match was next. 

When the 1st match was over, Gyuvin had closed his laptop. He watches as the ring worker drags the loser's unconscious body out of the ring.  Gyuvin stands looking at the ring, seeing the next opponent to enter the ring.

“ That was great, ladies and gentlemen. The last person's fight against the feared Titan is new. The rookie beast Gunwook Park!” The crowd boos the new challenger in the ring. However, Gyuvin smirks, seeing his friends entering the ring. 

Gunwook was physically fit, with his broad shoulders and lean body. He entered the ring with a stoic face, not daring to show a reaction. Gyuvin goes to the betting booth to look at his friend's odds of winning. 

The sign states: Gunwook V. Titan - 1:25

Gyuvin pulls out 200 credits and speaks to the bookie, “ 200 credits,” 

“ 200 on Titan” 

“No, Gunwook.” The bookie shakes his head and hands Gyuvin back a ticket. Gyuvin walks closer to the ring, squeezing his way through the crowd. He makes his way toward the ring fence and spots Gunwook's corner. He catches Gunwook attention and sends him a thumbs-up. Gunwook smirks and gets ready to fight.

“ Gyuvin, what the hell are you doing here?”  Gyuvin cringes at the voice. It was a female voice and one that he recognized well. 

“ Hey, Izumi, funny seeing you here; I thought you would be back in the shelter,” Gyuvin stated, scratching their head and focusing on the match. Gunwook also spots the person standing next to him and laughs to himself. 

“ This is what you guys sneak out to do; why Gunwook returns with a bruise.” Izumi crosses her arms and looks at Gyuvin. `

“ Yes, now we need to cheer on Gunwook`.” Gyuvin turns Izumi toward the ring. The bell rings, and Gunwook stands from the corner. Izumi closed there eyes and shuffled closer to Gyuvin, trying to avoid the sight of the rough fight. 

The Titan strikes Gunwook, directing the punch toward his head. Gunwook could barely dodge the punch, and he felt the rush of air pulling past his ear. The crowd cheers for Titan, and Gunwook knows there are only two people in the crowd who are on his side. Gunwook took the opportunity and went for Titan's arms. His attempt was successful, and he flipped Titan to the ground. Gyuvin cheered as the rest of the crowd reeled in anguish. 

“ What’s happening?” Izumi's eyes were still closed, and They were speaking toward Gyuvin. 

“ He is winning; that’s what's happening,” Gyuvin said with a smirk. “ and we are going to be able to buy a ticket out of this stupid system,” 

“Well, I would say keep your money.” Izumi says, “Yujin said he has a way out of this system.”

“Last time I trusted Yujin, I lost 1,000 credits and was still here,” Gyuvin spoke, still looking at the fight.

“ Yujin met a guy in the mechanic bay looking for a crew, and the ride would be free. Just have to stick with the ship.” 

“ That sounds too good to be true,”

“ Yujin, check the dude's background. He is legit, Gyuvin,” Izumi states. “Gunwook, Yujin, and you can finally leave, and you can keep your credits,”  

Gunwook had put Titan on the ground and secured him into a headlock. He was waiting for the titan to tap out, but the titan was scratching his legs and punching his arms. But Gunwook was in pain but silent, hoping the titan would sleep.  Izumi finally decided to take a peek at the ring. They see Gunwook grinding their teeth as the titan struggles to escape his grasp. Eventually, the titan loses consciousness and collapses to the ground. Gunwook lets go immediately and stands victoriously. Gyuvin cheers, and the people around them seem annoyed that a rookie beat the reigning champion. Gunwook leaves the ring and joins his friend in the crowd. 

“ Izumi, I thought the Goodie would be back at the shelter,” Gunwook spoke, wiping the sweat off his forehead. 

“ They say Yujin has an opportunity for us to leave this system and be a part of the crew finally,” Gyuvin spoke with his arms crossed over his chest, standing in disbelief. 

“ If you two don’t believe me, at least meet the guy offering Yujin,” Izumi pleaded. Gunwook is convinced but looks to Gyuvin for confirmation. 

“ Fine, I will sit down and talk to him,” Gyuvin gave up. He doesn’t believe this is real, but if Izumi is convinced, he might try it.

------

One month later

  “ Do you have any idea where we are going?” Gunwook asked, sitting in an open chair within the cockpit. Hanbin was looking at the dashboard with intergalactic maps next to it. He could barely hear the question, more focused on not crashing the ship into an asteroid. 

“ Hey…. Captain.” Gunwwok spoke again and waved his hand in front of Hanbin's face. It effectively woke him up from his daze.

“ What… Sorry,” Hanbin spoke, still looking at the maps.

“ I asked. Do you have any idea where we are going?”  Gunwook spoke, leaning on the dash console.

“ Yeah, of course.” Hanbin laughed off, “ One of the outer planetary systems to stop and stock up before the next mission.” 

Hanbin had straightened his posture at the question, though Gunwook didn’t believe him. Over the past month, Gunwook had spent most of his time on the ship with Hanbin.  Gyuvin and Yujin were focused on repairing the ship and rarely gave Gunwook the time of day. He learns what Hanbin tells and knows when Hanbin is lying to him. It helps when you grow where they did. 

“ Look, next time we stop, we should look for a navigator or someone that can get us better-paying gigs at least.” 

“ You may be right, but we need to start making more money before we hire anyone else,” Hanbin states, navigating the ship. 

“ Why not teach me how to navigate the ship, and then when we stop, you can go looking for better jobs instead of working to plot the next course,” Gunwook offered. Hanbin smirked; he knew that would help, but what about his role in the group? But Gunwook was right; he needed to step away from the plotting course and focus on jobs on which he could make more money. 

“ Alright, I'll teach you how to plot a course and navigate; once we land, I'll look for our next job, Deal?” Hanbin spoke, handing the original course plan to Gunwook.

“ Deal,” Gunwook spoke with a smile. Finally, he has something to do rather than watch people work all the time. 

Over the next week, Hanbin began to teach Gunwook about the ship's navigation. As well as how to pilot the ship to avoid space debris. Gunwook was grateful that he could just be a little less lonely. 

-

The Ship had pulled into the port. Gunwook looked through the front window to see a flashing sign that read Welcome to Base One. 

Gyuvin had been on his laptop to get the ship's mainframe up and working. So far, it's been a month and only weak progress. He was slowly getting frustrated with the bit of progression. The rest of them had tried to convince him to take a break, but it was just bothering him about why he couldn’t finish his repairs. But before he can go at it again, the laptop in front of him slams shut.

“ You have been looking at the screen for way too long, and you need to stop 'cause you're gonna drive yourself crazy,” Yujin spoke with his hand on the laptop.

“ If I don't finish, I will go crazy,” Gyuvin spoke, looking annoyed.

“ It will be the same as you left when we all return, " Yujin said. “Besides, I haven’t eaten, nor have you, and Hanbin is paying,” 

“ Well, who can turn down free food?” Gyuvin spoke, getting up from his seat. He turned around to see Gunwook standing at the door frame.

“ Guess who successfully landed and navigated the ship,” Gunwook spoke with a device smile.

“That's so cool; I didn’t know you knew how to do that,” Gyuvin spoke, 

“ Hanbin taught me over the week,” Gunwook said dreamily. “Maybe one day I can be a full-time navigator,” 

 “Congrats, now can we all just go eat?” Yujin whined. The other boys had left the small electrical room to find Hanbin on the loading bay looking at a small hand-held thin glass device.  Hanbin is looking at available gigs, but nothing satisfies his demands. Then he sees a message from an old friend, putting a smile on his face.  The same person was the reason why they came to this place. Hanbin quickly put the device in his pockets and smiled at the three boys approaching him.

“ You guys are ready to eat,”  Hanbin said. All of them nodded while Yujin was rubbing his belly.  Hanbin snickered at the youngest action. 

“ There is a place an old friend recommended this.” Hanbin spoke as  the boys got off the ship and onto the port bay. 

“What is the place called?” Gyuvin asked

“It’s called In Bloom,” Hanbin said, walking toward the restaurant's direction. 

-

INSIDE THE IN BLOOM

The inside of the place was loud and Chaotic. The waiter and bartenders were scrambling. 

If you asked Jiwoong why he was here, it would be so that he could earn some credits. The only thing on his mind was the job at hand. Jiwoong sat in a corner booth facing toward the exits and was monitoring  every individual in the place. He was keeping track of who had entered and exited. He was busy looking at his surroundings but failed to notice a blonde lanky waiter walking toward his table. 

“ Would you like another drink, sir?” The waiter spoke. Jiwoong read the metal-plated name tag on the waiter; it read Ricky. Jiwoong never really looked at the waiter and made sure that his face was the last thing he could be remembered by.

“ Just another beer,” Jiwoong placed an empty cup before the waiter. 

The waiter didn’t get a good look at the stranger's face but grabbed the cup and walked away to compile the request. Ricky hated this place, the one he was bound to for his life. He wiTheyd to see the stars be like those who told stories about those heists and flirtatious escapades in the bar. But, this place was far from the stories that the patrons came and talked about. 

“ Hey Kid! Can you get another round for this lovely Lady and me,” A grimy old man spoke with a beautiful young woman sitting on his lap. 

The women seem to be a drunk and giggling mess. The only thing keeping her from falling on the floor was the arm of the old man. This is the worst part of the job.

“ I can get you a round, but the lady, not so much,” Ricky said with a capitalistic smile, getting the new glass for the previous person he was tabling.  The old man began to complain, but Ricky had already tuned the man out, busy working on the other gentleman's beer order. Once the glass was filled with the forty beverages, Ricky returned to the table and placed it before returning to work behind the bar.

Jiwoong grabs the glass and takes a sip, and then the In Bloom doorbell above the entrance rang. Jiwoong spotted four men enter as a group. Jiwoong had made eye contact with one of the people in the group and looked back with the same distant gaze. The group had secured a table and had barely paid attention to Jiwoong. 

Jiwoong noticed that one had checked his phone and headed to the bar, presumably for a drink. But, the waiter who had handed him the beer was too busy cleaning the glass.  Jiwoong did not want to be distracted by the exciting interaction, so he focused on the door and opened his ear to ensure he found his target. 

-

An hour had passed since Hanbin Crew had arrived at the tavern.  Gunwook, Gyuvin, and Yujin were in their 3rd glass of water, and Hanbin's gaze was still at the door. He occasionally looked at his phone, waiting for his friends to arrive; just as Hanbin's eyes left the door again to check his phone, the bell above the door jingled, and two people walked in. 

Both were around the same height, smiling from ear to ear. The others held their heads down and were careful. Hanbin spotted his friend and waved them to the table. 

“ Matthew! Over here!” Hanbin motion. The Smiling one grabbed the other arm and dragged them toward the table. 

“Hey bro, what’s up?” The smiling one, Matthew, said, walking up to Hanbin with his cautious partner beside him. Hanbin stands and outstretched his arm, and Matthew walks straight into Hanbin's arms. The other three boys look at newcomers with curiosity and hesitantly. 

“ Who is the sad duckling you brought with you?” Hanbin said, noticing the figure on Matthew's right-hand side. 

“ A friend from college… He needs help, and you have a ship,” Matthew said, smiling beside Hanbin. The stranger held out his hand toward Hanbin. Hanbin looked at his face and noticed that the man wore round glasses and looked more sophisticated than Matthew. 

The stranger introduced himself, “ Hi, I’m Taerae.” 

He quickly sat down at the next available seat to not draw too much attention to himself. However, one person at the back of the tavern was paying keen attention to Taerae. 

“ Matthew, I can’t afford another mouth to feed,” Hanbin said, shaking his head and sitting back in his seat.

“ What if I said I can get you and everyone on your ship jobs without working for the Intergalactic Council,” Matthew said in a hushed tone. 

“I would say that statistically it's nearly impossible,” Gyuvin said, knowing very well that the Intergalactic Council had effectively made it impossible to find high-paying jobs unless you come from royalty.

  “ The only way you could do that is illegal trade, which is asking for a death wish,” Hanbin spoke carefully. It was a bad idea that they were discussing going against the Intergalactic Council in such a public setting. But Hanbin knew that if anyone reported them, then it would be the death of his dream.

“ I can get us the job of hunting down rare artifacts, and all we have to do is collect and deliver the items,” Matthew spoke with wonder in his eyes. “ These jobs are higher paying than the jobs you guys have, and if there is an injury, Taerae can patch you guys right up.” 

Hanbin was contemplating; the offer was good, and it would be enough to pay off his debts and feed the crew. But, it would mean that if caught, they would have a bounty on their head.

“ Fine but we need people to help out with other aspects of these missions. You and I both know that we need at least three more people, someone to help train us with basic skill of defense, someone with charm to help with distraction, and someone who can get us into hard places.” Hanbin spoke using his finger to emphasize the importance

 Matthew just smirked and responded “ We can find those types of people along the way.”

Jiwoong was focused on that name for the past couple of days. He slowly got up from the table and left some credits on the table. He wipes out a high-tech Lazblade, aims at Taerae's neck, and announces himself to the group of boys.

“Kim Taerae, This can go either way. I can kill you right now, or we can leave peacefully and not cause a scene,” 

The rest of the table quickly stood up, backing away from Jiwoong's weapon. Hanbin had widened and was the first to put his hand in the air to face the unspoken attacker. 

“Hey, I'm sure Taerae here didn’t do anything wrong,” Hanbin said, alleviating the situation with a slight tremble.  However, Jiwoong ignored Hanbin and waited for his target to move. At this point, Ricky had seen the blade in the bounty hunter's hand. Ricky made his way toward the group that was causing a seen

“ What is going on here?” Ricky spoke in an irritated tone. Jiwoong had managed to look at the waiter who had served him earlier. “ Just some bounty I am here to collect,” Jiwoong spoke calmly, his eyes trained on the back of Taerae's head. Hanbin widened even further; his friend never informed him of the bounty on the guest. Matthew had lowered his head, avoiding Hanbin's gaze. 

“ Look, I didn’t do anything wrong,” Taerae finally said and slowly stood up. “ You might have the wrong guy.” 

Hanbin watched the whole ordeal and was stunned, unable to do anything. He looks at the blonde/white-haired waiter with hints of prayers in his eye. He was practically begging Ricky to kick the bounty hunter out. Ricky knew if he kicked out the bounty hunter, the situation would continue outside, potentially damaging the tavern's reputation and causing him to lose his job. But, if he allows the bounty hunter to continue, fewer people will start coming, and he will lose his job. “ Okay, Look, either way here, I will lose my job, so why don't we just calm down,” Ricky spoke with a sense of calm and compulsion. This causes Jiwoong to move his gaze from his target to the waiter.

“ This doesn’t concern you,” Jiwoong spoke to Ricky. Gunwook took the opportunity to make a move toward Jiwoong. Gunwook knocks the weapon out of Jiwoong's hand, and it clatters to the ground. 

“He said you have the wrong person,” Gunwook spoke, trying to be more intimidating. Jiwoong quickly went to grab his weapon and aimed towards Gunwook's neck. Hanbin is quick to make sure Taerae stays behind him.

“ Okay, Sir, Please put the Blade away,” Ricky exclaimed, losing his patience. Gunwook and Jiwoong enthralled the other part of the Tavern. This causes the outside onlooker to chant, “Fight! Fight!”

“ Look, Kid, This is just a part of my job, and I could kill you instantly, " Jiwoong said with a frustrated tone. “ So let me take him, and I will be out of your hair.”

“Yeah, Then do it,” Gunwook yelled in Jiwoong's face. Jiwoong chuckled at Gunwook. This was hilarious to Jiwoong. Did Gunwook have no common sense to never mess with a bounty hunter and his payday? Gunwook had noticed the 

“ Okay, Gunwook, Let's not make threats to a man with a blade to your neck!” Gyuvin spoke. Ricky approaches Jiwoong and Gunwook and places his hand on their shoulder. 

“ You should listen to your friend,” Jiwoong said, smirking and tauntingly. 

Ricky is slowly pushing Jiwoong and Gunwook apart and is the only one actively trying to defuse the situation. Jiwoong put his blade away, turned his body toward Taerae, and started to walk toward him. However, he is turned around by a strong pull and struck in the face by Gunwook. Jiwoong was pissed and decided to punch back harder. Ricky tries his best to stop the brawl but is pushed to the ground by Jiwoong and Gunwook. The people around the pair start cheering and enticing both of them. Hanbin starts to stress and tries to help stop Gunwook from creating a bigger scene, but to no avail. Jiwoong throws a couple of punches toward Gunwook and tries to subdue the giant bo; however; Gunwook manages to dodge them. As the fight grew longer Jiwoong began to learn Gunwook’s moves and landed a successful punch straight into the boy's stomach. The crowd became louder with every punch and dodge between them. Matthew and Taerae were both trying to escape through the crowd but to no avail, and they were still in sight of the bounty hunter. 

“ ENOUGH!!!!” A towering man with a larger build and a deep, booming voice shouts, causing the crowd to disperse and the fight to end. Ricky knew that now he might get an earful. At that moment, Jiwoong and Gunwook stopped throwing punches and were out of breath. The larger man made his way toward the group. Once there, he grabbed Gunwook and Jiwoong both by the collar and guided them to the door. Hanbin was the first to exit after the pair, followed by the rest of the crew. Ricky had stayed in place, hoping his boss would let this fight slide. 

“ Ricky, I expect you to leave your apron on the bar stand in the next few minutes.” The owner of the bar spoke

“ I didn’t even start it this time,” Ricky pleaded with his boss. “ Look, I need money. At least wait til the end of my shift to fire me.” 

“ This was the 3rd fight you have been involved in this week,” the owner said, towering over Ricky. “You knew the risk of not letting me handle the roughhousing.”

Ricky dejectedly removed his apron and placed it on the counter before walking to the back to grab his things.  Now, he was out of a job and needed to find a new one quickly. -

OUTSIDE THE IN BLOOM

Gunwook was still breathing heavily, while Jiwoong looked unbothered. Gunwook was still annoyed because he nearly lost and probably would walk away from this fight with a couple of bruises. But Jiwoong was the complete opposite, he looked unscathed and more annoyed that he was still there. Jiwoong scanned Gunwook from head to toe; he recognized the protectiveness in his fighting style. Jiwoong saw his younger self within the younger boy. 

“ You're a good fighter I give you that,” Jiwoong praised Gunwook “ But, I have to do my job kid and I know he is your friend but, if i don’t bring him in he will have the mark of death…”

Gunwook knew all too well what the mark of death meant but, he also knew that he didn't need to lose anyone else. Jiwoong watches the younger boy's facial expression change form a face of stoic to sadness then back. 

“...and the next person to try and grab him won't leave you alive next time,” Jiwoong said, trying to scare him. 

The entire group had finally all  made their way outside with Matthew and Taerae by the time Jiwoong spoke. Hanbin, Yujin, Matthew, and Taerae were still in a bit of a shock at how quickly the fight escalated. Gyuvin was more focused on the fact that he hadn't seen Gunwook start a fight since they were kids, Gunwook was a fighter but he mainly waited for the opponent to strike first. So, to Gyuvin and Yujin they knew Gunwook was fighting about a simple bounty but something more puzzling. They all started at the bounty hunter and the ship's new navigator waited for the tension to break. It shocked  the group when Taerae broke 

“ Have you ever asked what my crime was?” Taerae spoke directly to Jiwoong. 

“ I don’t need to know,” Jiwoong said, attempting to grab Taerae’s wrist to cuff him. But Gunwook shoved Jiwoong's hands away causing the bounty hunter to drop the cuff to the ground. Jiwoong stood in disbelief as he see the groups that was with his target slowly try and form a human shield around Taerae

“ You really want to protect someone you just meet that bad” Jiwoong spoke to the group. 

“ I saved someone's life,” Taerae spoke so everyone around him could hear. But Taerae’s gaze was fixed on Jiwoong. “ However, according to the Intergalactic Council rules, the person I saved was a waste of resources and technology, ” 

Jiwoong hesitated in picking the cuffs off the ground. He makes direct eye contact with the medic for the first time. Jiwoong knew the medic was wrong but these benefactors controlled the system and he had to follow the system. “ You really want to roam the universe with the mark of death, put all these people you just meet in danger,”

Taerae takes a step in front of the human shield that was made out of people he might be his safety for the rest of his life. 

“Yes, even if it means I have to die to help people I swore to protect, the benefactor will never rule how I practice my medicine… just like they don't control your emotion,” Taerae spoke, offering a single handshake as a peace offering. 

Jiwoong knew that if he did this they would tell him that he could no longer be a bounty hunter. He let too many people on his list go and never gave word back to the IGPF that they needed to be marked for death. Afterall, Jiwoong was human; he had feelings and empathy toward those people trying to make life less cruel.  Letting one more person go they might start going for his head. Jiwoong needed a plan fast and he knew all about the research plan made he could join  them and teach them how to protect themselves 

“ Frist, I need an assurance, if I let you go they come after me for not completing another job and I don't think either of us want to die,yet” Jiwoong spoke with a sense of confidence in his voice “ Lets make deal, I come a long on your little adventure and give you all the protection you clear need and I can teach skill that can help you on your task acquiring artifact for the researcher,” 

The rest of the group's eyes widened, including Matthew. The researcher believed that no one had heard his proposal to his old friend. They thought they were discussing pretty quietly. Jiwoong stifled a laugh at the group face because most people would never know that a bounty hunter had such keen observation skill. 

Hanbin spoke first “ We have a deal, but I need to make it clear that you can never ever inform the IGPF about this”  Jiwoong responds with a simple nod and proceeds to shake taerae hand.

That is when the door to the In Bloom opened again and they noticed the waiter that had been serving them earlier exit with a defeated look on his face. Ricky noticed the two parties he had just tried to separate from fighting shaking hands. It just had to be his luck. They resolved it outside and now he was out of a job.

 Ricky was pissed. “ I told you both this could be resolved with a simple conversation outside and now since you decide to have a fight inside I am out of job” That's when Ricky remembered the research of this group remark before the whole ordeal.

“ You know what if you don't want me to report this little deal to IGPF which would cause the doc to receive a mark of death and the rest on a run give me job on your ship,” Ricky spoke in such a calm was that Hanbin was still slowly processing that what the man had just said was a threat. 

“ Are you serious?” Gyuvin said in disbelief that another person heard them speak, maybe that wasn't so discert after all.

“Serious as ever and aren't bounty hunters, the first rule is never make deals in the open” Ricky says gazing at the bounty hunter. Jiwoong also realized how stupid he could be.

  Hanbin rolled his eyes before speaking sarcastically “ Anyone else want to join along?”

Ricky didn't respond, instead he walked toward the group with a hand out and in the palm of his hand was the keys to the Hanbin ship. Hanbin was flabbergasted at this kid's action. 

 “ You should be more focused on your surrounding and make sure you have everything before you leave” Ricky speak and shake Hanbins hand to make sure the deal is secure. 

Hanbin then realized that Matthew was kinda of right they would find the type of people they need on the way.

[formulatrash]

What's your take on the hockey booktok thing? Since you mentioned it on twt

my initial take would be that all these people scare me so much I don't want to get into it but also people keep messaging me to be like did you know people ship carlando" off the back of it and yes. I did know that.

my understanding of what's happened on booktok, which I absorb any information about only twice a year during whatever version of this is blowing up at the time, is pretty limited. partly because I'm not on tiktok and partly because I can't read. but the crux of it seems to have come down to people writing disgustingly thirsty comments on a hockey player and his wife's posts, regardless of what they were about, somehow feeling empowered to be horny not just on main but in someone's face because of booktok.

that's, clearly, not remotely acceptable. if there are communities of people out there that thirst about me I don't know about them (although the cold tendrils of horror about the Wikifeet page have just gripped me and no, oh god, that isn't the phrase I should've used at all get me out of here) but there are loads of people who fucking hate my guts. that's like, fine, it's their own business; if they keep it on discord or whatever and away from me it doesn't do me any harm. lord knows, I have committed the act of hating and indeed being horny, sometimes simultaneously, when I was at a safe enough distance for none of the subjects to ever know.

this is a thing about fandom. if you post "Max Verstappen looks breedable" on here then he's extraordinarily unlikely to ever see it or probably know what it means. if you comment that on Kelly's instagram posts, even if you don't like her and even if that's for valid reasons, that's very different.

as I gather it, the booktok thing has exploded into RPF in general. which, I gotta say, RPF and sexually harassing a dude and his family are in fact very different things. one has a rich history, both as actual ways of telling history (Anthony and Cleopatra: RPF, Chernobyl: RPF, the god damn Gran Turismo movie is RPF about an uncomfortably large number of people I know IRL and to be fair it looks like it slaps I'm gonna see it) and as a longstanding artform. RPF's history of horny is even extremely longstanding, with obscene RPF being used by both the French and Russian revolutionaries to undermine the concept of royal divinity.

RPF is political because it involves an interpretation of real events and people. and the perspective from which that's written will always be political. RPF can, certainly, be feminist; there's quite a lot of retellings of classical stories that fit this. RPF can, also, be fucking weird horny shit. or terrible man takes. or incredible, tender, queer retellings; Kaz Rowe's graphic novel about real-life surrealist Claude Cahun is an obvious example of the latter. Pride, the film about the miners' strikes and the AIDS crisis, is another.

so yeah, it is a legitimate and recognised form of literature and art and also uhhhh. well. I mean the omegaverse is definitely recognised, legally, in court because of that one case but I don't know that even its fiercest enthusiasts would really be all that keen on describing it. not as like, literature or anything just I think most people would rather literally never have an IRL conversation about that. ever.

I'm not 1000% clear on how carlando got into this but clearly that's broken containment a long time ago anyway. when you had Sky doing love heart interviews 15 races into them being teammates or whatever, there was an obvious amount of gay chicken being played by the producers that frankly, as a queer person in motorsport, I'm a lot more comfortable with the fan version of.

no, obviously, I do not think they are dating - or want to think that tbh - but frequently-queer fans projecting the wish fulfilment of seeing a kinder and more representative world for their desires, in places hidden from the subjects, is a lot less weird than leering, laughed-at dating questions and milk baths. in an ideal world it wouldn't have to be a secret, yearned-for alternative because things would be safe and open enough for there to be real queer stories everywhere but that, unfortunately, is not the one we currently live in.

wish fulfilment and telling stories are not the same things, necessarily. sometimes you tell the stories to remind yourself it's ok to have wishes or to work out what those even are. I don't think there's anything necessarily harmful about what names the characters have in those, provided the line between reality and any real people's privacy is kept.

clearly, with the booktok thing, that's where things went extremely wrong. generally tiktok as a whole seems to have a very odd perception about other people's agency, whether it's pranking videos or like the girl who filmed people peeing at Spa. if you regard everyday people as content opportunities (spoiler: the law does not think this and particularly in the EU you cannot film people without their consent) then I guess it's easy to slide over to seeing an athlete as a target for what I suspect very few of the people doing it recognised as very unpleasant and invasive harassment.

there's nothing wrong with fancying athletes. there's nothing even wrong with sexualising them, provided you respect some boundaries and provided it's not part of the conditions of their working contracts. there's a lot of difference between there being a discord where, idk, people say Mitch Evans is hot (he is, although somewhat implausibly he genuinely does not know this) and sponsors for female tennis players wanting them to wear revealing outfits and stay skinny or teenage girls being encouraged into provocative photoshoots by people who promise them roles, etc. teenage male athletes being pressured into doing things they don't want to yet or maybe at all to prove they're men, queer athletes being forced to hide who they are or repress it entirely.

would it be a little bit odd to find RPF of yourself? yes. I won't lie, I would judge the characterisation. I already do judge that on the frankly very weird things people write about me. you have never seen RPF as strange as the narratives people will make up about you in the comments of an article about hydrogen and frankly those scare me a lot more than whether someone thinks I'd be assigned beta or whatever.

stumbling across something, rather than having explicit sexual fantasies forced into your face, especially on what's your own social media pages where people you know in real life can see them, is very different though. some people who engage with RPF cross lines, whether that's weird conspiracy stuff about girlfriends being faked or stalking people's friends accounts etc.

RPF doesn't inherently cross lines, even when it's public; there's a very interesting interview here with Jann Mardenborough and the guy who plays him in the Gran Turismo movie about, among other things, portraying a fatal crash he was involved in. clearly, Jann is not only aware of but is the executive producer of what's ultimately fiction about himself and there's an ownership there, of course. but some parts of the movie are made up, for sure.

obviously I'm like, the not-very-secret infiltrator here because clearly I am On Tumblr and know what AO3 is. I follow a bunch of people who write fanfic because they also make nice gifs of my favourite blorbos and I like to think we can all make peace with our own boundaries about that kinda thing. also I read every single Shane/Ryan fic in like 5 weeks and honestly, not going to apologise except to myself for persisting with a few that didn't pay off.

but like: you do not have to make RPF or any fandom activity unethical. the way you conduct yourself does that and some people step way out of line.

[hear-me-out-shippers]

Hear Me Out, Shippers: SebaUri

Submitted by: @mysaldate (Submitter also created the above ship name)

Form used: In-Depth

Characters: Sebastian Michaelis (Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler) x Kevin Cecil/Uriel (Makai ouji: Devils and Realist)

Snappy Ship Pitch: Demon butler meets angel butler, both their masters are more or less oblivious to the true identity of the other butler, other entities might pop in from time to time to spice things up.

Warning! This post contains content warning tags. Please read the content warnings carefully before deciding whether to go below the cut.

Content warnings: enemies to lovers, violence, dubcon

At a Glance…

Alternative ship names: None

Character Types: Canon x Canon

Ship Type: It's Complicated™️

Ship Status: Canon-Compliant, but Complicated

Stated Reason for Complication: There is potential implied relationship between Sebastian and his human master, Ciel Phantomhive as well as a potential implied... something between Uriel and his superior, archangel Michael

Genders/Assigned Sexes at Birth: Undisclosed as far as I am aware as both of them are supernatural entities that can take on different physical forms but they are both portrayed as men, male.

Sexual and Romantic Attractions: Sebastian has had sexual relationships with women but also is very attached (and heavily implied to be romantically interested) in a male character. Kevin is implied to be into men.

End-game?: Loaded question for a loaded situation, I could see them as only using each other for momentary respite or I could see them eventually bonding over their precious humans passing away and staying together

Good for each other?: For one of them, kind of, but not for another.

How much they have in common, on a scale of 1 to 9: 2

Inspiration behind the ship: Demon butler and angel butler to orphaned young aristocrats in a Victorian England setting with dark fantasy themes AND both of their masters have special souls? How could I not immediately think of them?

Why it’s underrated: These two would be horrible in the best way if only more people knew about the series.

How it’s overlooked: It is a crossover and Makai ouji fandom is already super small. The Makai ouji anime, while not terrible, also did a rather poor job of getting people to read the manga where all the interesting stuff happens.

In-Depth:

About Kevin Cecil/Uriel:

Kevin Cecil aka Uriel is a former archangel now posing as a humble butler and house steward for William Twining who is a young man and holder of the soul of Solomon, the king of ancient Israel. Kevin was sent by his superior, archangel Michael, to monitor William and see to it that demons don't get a hold of his soul. At first, he was focused on his mission and tried not to get attached. He hoped to speak to Solomon and get forgiveness for their last encounter and the punishment he gave to Solomon due to his numerous contracts with demons. However, over time, he started to care for William and watch over him from more than just a sense of obligation. In the end, he reveals his true identity to William even though he fully expects to be sent away. When William accepts him as he is, Kevin vows himself to William's side and even goes against direct orders later in order to help William. He goes from the cold angel of punishment to a caring sweet butler who would do anything to protect his master and even those his master cares about, though they are irrelevant to his mission or even demons.

What he wants in a relationship:

Probably stability, looking for somewhere to be himself as a person without being burdened by his position as an angel or his duty to Michael or Solomon.

What he needs in a relationship:

To be loved and cherished tbh. He's a gentle soul but hasn't had much time to explore that side of himself.

About Sebastian Michaelis:

Sebastian Michaelis is a demon who takes interest in special souls of humans. For millenia, he's been bored and simple ordinary souls may bring him sustenance but don't give him any pleasure anymore. He is currently contracted to Ciel Phantomhive, the Queen's watchdog of the Brittish underworld. In service to Ciel, Sebastian finds himself quite often in mortal peril, facing not only typical human criminals but also other supernatural entities, most often grim reapers who collect the souls of the departed, which is a huge point of contention between the two races. And while Sebastian keeps his cool suave act together, there is certainly displeasure he shows at the prospect of losing Ciel's soul to them. The creator had also said that after Ciel's death, Sebastian would be mourning for a very long time as, despite his better judgement, he is attached to the boy.

What he wants in a relationship:

Excitement? Probably someone who won't be easily manipulated and puts up a bit of a struggle. Someone who can challenge him.

What he needs in a relationship:

Someone who can put him in his place tbh, to wipe that cocky smirk off his face.

How they would be good for each other:

Kevin could definitely give Sebastian what he wants, be it a challenge or a power-trip. Don't really think Sebastian would be good for Kevin tho xD They COULD provide each other comfort after both William and Ciel pass though.

How they would be bad for each other:

Sebastian is a player. He would enjoy toying with Kevin, and Kevin would find it very frustrating and honestly kind of hurtful. Also, while Kevin is a very loyal person, Sebastian takes time to get attached and even then is a major tease about it which would likely make Kevin feel used.

Dealbreakers: If either of them makes a move on the other's master, that would be an instant deal-breaker. They aren't likely to do so though, Kevin because he genuinely doesn't care about Ciel, and Sebastian because he is currently leashed by his contract. Once he's out of it, he would likely go into mourning so I don't see him trying to get to William either, and even if somehow he tried, William had already proven very resistant to contracts. The attempt alone would definitely be an unforgivable slight for either of them though.

How they met: Since the worlds are already very similar (so similar they could even be the same world tbh), I assume they might meet through their masters. William is always on the look-out for potential rich patrons seeing as his own financial situation is fairly dire, and Ciel could use someone with William's ambitions for politics and/or law career.

How it would play out: At first, there would be a lot of fighting, lots of trying to establish dominance. It would take them a long time to open up to each other – if they ever do at all. There's a lot of constant tension between them. Sebastian doesn't have good experience with angels, Kevin doesn't have good experience with demons. They get especially upset with their masters around, being a tad too protective and suspicious of each other. But if their masters decide to hang out more, they will, begrudgingly, behave. Over time, I could see them being less tense around each other as they get used to each other. There would still be spikes here and there, if Michael was to visit, or if Ciel suggested Sebastian was growing soft, but I think over time, they might find a way to an almost healthy situationship.

Free Rambling Space!:

There was, at one point, a joking theory that Sebastian is actually Lucifer from MO because, at the time, we didn't know what Lucifer looked like, only that it involved a lot of feathers, stripper heels, and clawed hands in fancy gloves, which is, incidentally, all we knew about Sebastian's true form as well. This would be such a fun twist on the shipbut it would add a pseudo-incest layer as some of the original archangels in Makai ouji consider all the other original archangels their siblings while others do not. The only explicitly blood-related ones are Michael and Lucifer but others include Gabriel, Uriel, and Raphael. If Sebastian being Lucifer was true by some miracle, the ship would get even more complicated. If Kevin knew, he would have insane inner conflict and would likely feel guilt even worse than if he just fell for a demon. If he didn't know, it would allow Sebastian to play him like a fiddle, using all that he knows about Uriel from before his fall. Either way, Michael would be even more furious with Kevin if he ever found out.

[scooby-review]

Scooby Doo Where are You? S1 E13-E17

13. Which Witch is Which?

This batch of five episodes is the greatest consistent run in the season! I love pretty much all of these! 

This episode has maybe one of the most basic premises: the gang find a witch and a zombie in the swamp on their way home. Simple! Yet, this simple narrative works! 

I love both the villains here, although, they’re really nothing too special! I think the witch is somewhat unique here, we haven’t seen this kind of character before, and she is your quintessential evil witch, with sickly green skin evocative of the Wicked Witch of the West, her robes a gorgeous purple, blending two of my favourite colours and making a design that is simply pleasing to me! She is the first female monster too! Although, the criminal underneath is a man, so… Still, she makes a mark from her voice and laugh, which is far less common in this series than silent stalking villains! Also, she’s voiced by Scooby voice actor Don Messick, which is just impressive to me! 

The other villain is the zombie, again, the villain thrives because of how simple this design is, and how he juxtaposes the witch. Yet, he’s made distinctive through his goblin-like design, with his pointy ears and almond shaped face, the crimson eyes standing out brightly against the rest of his swampy green design. I also personally like him because I used to have, and probably still do somewhere, the Lego figure of him, he came in the Mystery Machine set! I believe that the only other set to feature Where are You? (season one at least) characters is the Mystery Mansion, containing the Black Night,  Phantom and Dracula. I love this set so much but God is it expensive - I got all the cheapest ones, but I’d love the Haunted Lighthouse or Mansion now! 

Regardless, this is the weakest of the following five episodes, I find it mostly coasts on how great and fun these villains are and how great their dynamic is! The Witch is smart, she can talk and laugh, while the Zombie struggles to understand Shaggy’s joke, he can only groan and trundle along. They make a perfect fit as a result, they are an evil mastermind and a stupid henchman. 

They tie all of the ideas in together nicely, such as the setting of the swamp, the villains and themes of voodoo. All this works nicely together, but the episode feels like it’s coasting from beat to beat. There’s not really an interesting mystery to follow nor good enough gags! 

Also, the mouse joke is swapped out for a squirrel joke, which is far less interesting to me personally! 

This episode manages to be completely fine because of the strong villains! It’s an enjoyable watch for sure, but the pacing leaves something to be desired. 

14. Go Away Ghost Ship

I think growing up, this was my favourite episode. There’s so much going on, it’s funny and creepy, it has the best of what the show has to offer! It’s kind of weird how a select few episodes are so good, while many others are serviceable and fine, but meandering and unfocused. This is a tight episode, it’s constantly doing something funny, and I love it. 

Go Away Ghost Ship follows the gang learning about a ghost pirate hijacking cargo ships, and so, they leave to the ocean to investigate it. 

I’ve watched this one a lot growing up, it was on the Creepiest Capers DVD I would watch loads! The three season one episodes in that compilation have all ended up in my top six episodes of the season, which could be a nostalgic bias, but I truly believe that these are some of the best episodes the series has to offer! I would highly recommend the compilation to all! 

My notes for this episode were about double the length of most other episodes, it’s just so good. 

Firstly, I really love the malt shop and beach as a wrap-around location, they use both a few times at the start or end of an episode, or sometimes both, and it really makes this world feel more alive to me! Plus the characters, I love watching them dance and chat together, it makes them feel like actual friends rather than characters. Here it’s not different! The mystery also takes a minute to set up, a cold open reveals the villain, but the gang don’t meet him until around a quarter of the way in, which isn’t much sure, but they set up the characters nicely! I love the gang pretending to be room service, this does give them a more meddling image, pushing through anything to solve mysteries even if they shouldn’t be posing as people they aren’t, or entering rooms they’re forbidden from. It’s such a great and fun way to characterise them, but it’s seldom done. 

When they do arrive at the ship, it’s so much fun, they almost treat it like a haunted house in the way they bring it to life through a series of rooms, all building into gags, but the writing here feels way stronger, each gag has consequences, one action affects what happens next, the episode has stakes more so than any other. 

I’ll use an example to explain what I mean! We see the gang quickly separated when the ghost ship sails right through their tiny boat, Scooby and Shaggy entering through the side of the boat while the others head to the top. Shaggy and Scooby are chased by a floating sword, leading to their capture with Redbeard, however rather than make them walk the plank, he forces them to cook for him, where they fill the stew with horrible ingredients (chains, cobwebs, soap and ashes). However, when he goes to eat it, he instead forces them to eat the stew, the soap in the ingredients makes them blow bubbles which they use to escape, however during their escape they encounter the pirate henchman, so, Shaggy uses his imitation ability to lure them away. 

Every single joke here lands. I love the sequence of them cooking, the imitation where Shaggy, for some reason, must wear a pirate hat to do it, the skeleton head just talking, his delivery really funny to me, the shark that’s actually just a fin, Scooby cutting the fog and eating it (which always looked so tasty to me as a child) and the gay blade of course. Everything here is so great, I love this episode God! There’s so many more great moments too! Such as Shaggy’s dual where he fights with a sausage and also him coming up with a really out there password which just so happens to be the correct code.

But what’s a Where are You? episode without a villain? I like Redbeard, he’s a great pirate character, but I wouldn’t consider him a favourite villain! He’s good, but the show has better, which just goes to show how strong this episode is, not entirely dependent on its villain! 

However, he is still good! His red design makes him feel like a typical pirate, but I think they made a great decision in making him ginger, it makes him so much more memorable and unique in contrast to any old pirate design! He doesn’t convey the ghost theming in the same way most other characters with ghost slapped at the end of their name don’t, however this isn’t too big a deal for the villains! He’s great, I don’t want to underplay him, his personality is very distinct, he feels cruel and unpredictable, asking for one thing then changing his mind, it makes him a scary character to live in the world with. 

Wow, what a great episode! Although not my overall favourite of the season, it’s real close, it’s so very good. I think this is one I would be most likely to recommend to others to watch to get an idea what the best of the series looks like!

15. Spooky Space Kook

I love this episode so much. It’s not my favourite, not by a long shot, but it’s so comforting. It’s not as fun as episodes like Go Away Ghost Ship, but it is so vivid in its style, it’s creepy and everything about it is cool. It’s not always the most consistent or interesting episode, but it’s a marvel to watch. 

Spooky Space Kook follows the gang searching an airfield haunted by an alien. 

I think this episode is only so good because of the villain, I personally find aliens terrifying, they make me get depressingly existential and bubble with anxiety! The Space Kook is actually never named! The name simply comes from the episode's title, with the characters in the episode calling him things like “Ghost Man” and “Mr. Trouble”. No wonder those names didn’t take off!

The design is maybe perfect, he’s a skeletal astronaut, the glowing carmine surrounding his face contrasts perfectly with his navy suit and skull, which is always great to look at, the close ups rule. Yet, most interesting about his design is the way his suit grows luminous, it makes him stand out so much. We have never seen this effect before, therefore it really fuels this feeling of being otherworldly, he’s so different to the other villains in this aspect. Of course, he’s a hulking villain without any dialogue, but he makes this vivid mark on you when he appears, he’s not a funny character, he’s not from this world. 

Of course, there’s also his cackling laugh. It’s perfect. There’s not much more that can be said about it, but wow it’s so good. From the moment he appears, you know him. Then you hear him, and he’s so never going to leave. I love this design, and characterisation for such a thinly layered character. Designs do the heavy lifting in this show, but the laugh really adds so much. 

The episode doesn’t quite match the quality of this perfect villain, but there is a lot that I love about it! Mostly, the setting, which is an abandoned airfield. It’s ripe for the space connections, it’s eerie in a less overt way than many of the show's other gothic settings. It’s more than a feeling of isolation that it evokes, instead drawing forth the clashing feelings of being alone here, but the universe being vast with creatures we never can or will understand. 

This episode aired a mere six months after the first human stepped onto the moon. It feels echoed in this feeling of the villain, of life being so expansive, space travel shook the world more than I need bother discussing. However that feeling is echoed throughout this episode, this fear of what happens next. As a species, we have evolved so far, so what follows? Who follows? 

Tying into this, the villain strangely uses many ways people theorised the moon landing was fake as means to fake his disguise. These include, men on wires, no sound of an engine and camera projections feigning space travel. Specifically, we see a scene evolving a key, which is one of my favourites, however many have drawn parallels to the goofy nature of it and the “impossible” shots taken within the lunar lander. Also, the spaceman here is the villain, sure, he’s an alien, but his design is clear in being an astronaut, the name given on the character’s model sheet being Ghostly Spaceman, with no mentions of aliens. Likely, this is all a coincidence, or these theories helped influence how the writers made the character fake being a monster, however, with so few astronauts at the time, it’s a unique way of marking this important moment in history, painting them as the villain. 

Unrelated, but I hate how the show insinuates that Shaggy is good at mechanics. They imply that Shaggy and Scooby, you know, the dog, would be far more capable of getting Fred down from a hook and wire than Daphne and Velma. I buy the idea that Velma wouldn’t know mechanics, sure, but it’s literally just a switch that needs to be pulled, she’s more than intelligent enough to see that! It’s just a way of getting all the characters back in a single location, but quickly, they split them again afterwards! 

However, I do love the sequence of Scooby and Shaggy atop the watchtower as the Space Kook attempts to break in. I wouldn’t describe it as tense, it’s Scooby-Doo, but it’s well written, and I like it a lot! I also love the aforementioned key sequence! 

This one is so great because of its villain, but the episode he’s inside is still enjoyable, and one I personally like a lot! Just a great time :) 

16. A Night of Fright is no Delight

This is maybe the Scooby-Doo episode. 

A Night of Fright is no Delight is an iconic episode for a reason. Not only is it the highest rated episode on IMDB, alongside being critically acclaimed, for a Scooby-Doo episode, but it also features some of the shows most iconic villains, has one of the most enjoyable mysteries in the first season and the episode used in the Supernatural crossover, which I hope to watch at some point for this blog! Also, Be Cool Scooby Doo reimagines this episode, alongside a handful of other season one Where are You? episodes. 

The episode follows the gang heading to a haunted mansion after Scooby is listed in the will of a millionaire after saving him! However, soon we see the gang stalked by a pair of giggling green ghosts. Loosely, it’s an adaptation of Agatha Christie’s Then There Were None. 

Already, this premise is silly and out there, but I love it. The gang go to the house and are told that to get the fortune, they must stay overnight at the haunted mansion. 

Following this, we get to see three fifths of the gang in pyjamas. I love all their pyjamas, and as you’ll see in the following episode, I love all costume changes for the characters. Shaggy’s are my favourite, his sleepy cap and gown is so perfect for his character, as are Scooby and Freds, the formers a dressing gown style set with slippers, while Fred wears a more relaxed blue shirt. I love this so much, and the way Fred always talks to Shaggy whenever they’re set to share a room. 

Would you believe this episode is not the only time in the series we will see a member of the mystery gang go to a house for inheritance money, only to learn the house is “haunted”, where they must solve a mystery while staying there to earn their money from the housekeeper attempting to steal it. Also the money is from a man called Beauregard, who is a confederate. Because, as far as I’m aware, it happens at least once more in the Boo Brothers movie.

The villains here are so popular for a reason! The Giggling Green Ghosts are great, they appear like “sheet” ghosts, but not in the same way as The Phantom does. No, these characters look like they’re wearing robes, which of course, they are. However, these robes are a beautiful shade of green which only look better against their red faces. Not to mention how great the addition of the single shackle and chain is on their arms. I remember as a child I had these glow in the dark rubber handcuffs which I think were based on this episode? I loved them loads, but I’m not too sure why. 

Plus, they have a second form, The Phantom Shadow, which is simply just when they are projecting themselves as shadows, but the transparency is definitely creepier for them, their edges feel more jagged and their appearance less human, like real ghosts. God it’s great! 

We get to meet five others who are set to inherit the money, all of them becoming suspects, before we swiftly find them all locked away in coffins. Sure, this makes the mystery a whole lot smaller, reducing the options to two characters, however, it’s such a creepy image that it really doesn’t matter. 

I love how the gang are split up in this one two, much like in Go Away Ghost Ship where both parties are in peril constantly which makes it feel like there’s a better reason for them to be split up, especially when one half has a lot more character than the other. Here I also love how they get split up, I enjoy how Velma bounces between the pair she’s stuck with, here she’s with Scooby and Shaggy, which I love, they get into way sillier antics and it allows for a more focused character like Velma to constantly bring them down to earth. 

I love this one, it slowly drips the villains in, from the Phantom shadow to the green ghosts to two green ghosts. It’s great, constantly upping the stakes. Great stuff!

I really get why this one is loved so much, it’s such a great episode for a plethora of reasons” It’s so very great. 

Also, the house is totally haunted. Like, not by the phoney ghosts, by actual ghosts, we see paranormal activity at the end of the episode, which is just brushed off, but still, it’s there! 

17. That’s Snow Ghost

The finale! 

When I saw this episode among the five, I was least excited for it. The villain was just the least interesting to me, everything about it felt kind of boring and bland to me, but honestly, I love this one so much! 

I find snow like sand, although I prefer it a lot. For me, I will either love something set in the snow, or hate it, it depends how the snow is wielded. I love this!

To start with, what is unironically my favourite part of this episode: the outfit change. The winter outfits are just so much fun, I love episodes where an outfit that characters always wear are swapped out for new ones for the new setting or scenario. I think my least favourite outfit is Fred’s; his new coat is nice, but his entire outfit is now blue on blue on blue. However, it does fit the character well!

Velma’s is my third favourite, it’s pretty much just her usual outfit, but I love the scarf and the way it’s all tied together with the bobble hat! 

I also love Shaggys! His coat runs the risk of falling into the same pattern as Velma and Fred’s outfits, however, the dark green stripe adds so much! And I adore the brown from his trousers used as fur on the coat, as well as the colour of his earmuffs - God, it’s great!

And finally, the best, is Daphne. Her coat is so cute, her colour scheme is already my favourite but it works so nicely using the softer purples for the fur here! Plus, her hat is so fun, I love this lots!

Beyond the new designs, I also enjoy how weird the side characters are here, like it’s because they’re the villains, but they are unapologetically strange! It’s so fun to watch, because usually the villain’s identity is obvious anyway! This way we at least get to see some more unique types of people. Although, this only works because it’s not an everyday thing, it’s just so strange seeing such weird characters here because of how grounded everyone usually is! 

Beyond them, I love how they use this setting, showing the group sledding across hills in a fun little visual gag, exploring frozen caves and using snowmobiles. Ultimately, it’s just a fun time watching them go around this wildly different location!

This brings me to the villain! He’s fine. He’s definitely more interesting than a lot of the groaning, hulking villains, the snow ghosts design obviously evocative of a yeti, the design based on one we see in a flashback, I think. This gives the design a bulky look with white fur and striking yellow eyes, the long horn like eyebrows his most unique feature. However, he is enjoyable to watch! Why? Because he is so violent. It’s absurd. 

This is the first villain we see attempt murder. 

Sure, other villain’s have attempted to harm the gang before, but here we see the ghost tie Velma to a log on a conveyor belt, heading head first into a buzzsaw. That’s just the start of it though, because after he also captures shaggy he also… covers him in snow. Huh! Regardless, seeing the villain willing to murder the gang is funny! A villain attempting to harm the gang is used sparingly as is, but attempting murder to cover up a smuggling operation is so over the top and great. 

Not to mention this episode ends in a perfect way! With a rodent themed gag :,) 

What a finale to the season, even if being a finale to a season of an episodic show is pretty unimportant, but I’m glad I was proved wrong about this one! This is some of the most I’ve laughed at an episode because of how extreme some of it is, or just strange some of the decisions are! A very good way to end a very good season!

Episode Ranking:

Go Away Ghost Ship

That’s Snow Ghost

A Night of Fright is no Delight

Spooky Space Kook

Which Witch is Which? 

Villain Ranking: 

Space kook

Giggling Green Ghosts/ The Phantom Shadow

Witch 

Ghost of Redbeard

Zombie 

Snow Ghost

Next Review: SDWaY S1 Villain Ranking

Previous Review: SDWaY S1 E9-12

[tapwrites]

To Filler or not to Filler

Some people say filler is bad in a story, others say it's fine... still others say it's important to include, to have a well-rounded story! Are they even talking about the same thing?

What is filler, anyway?

Let's tackle that first; define our terms.

Think about what the word "filler" means in other places. Filler is used to fill a hole in a wall so the cracks don't show. Filler is foam padding in a box so the item being shipped doesn't get damaged. In speaking people use um, er, and "like" to fill time while they figure out what they want to say--that's called "filler" as well.

Filler is something used to fill gaps, with no meaning or use beyond that. Something that is not necessary beyond simply filling something.

So what does this mean in storytelling terms?

This term is often used referring to serial TV shows (long stories told over multiple episodes, as opposed to "episodic" TV shows where each episode is a self-contained story).

The example that comes to my mind is Naruto: a show featuring long stories told step by step in 23 minute episodes. But from time to time, when the animators are behind the airing schedule a self-contained episode is aired that has nothing to do with the story, progresses nothing, explains nothing, and by the end of it nothing has changed. You could skip such episodes and not have missed anything.

Why did that episode exist? Purely to play out time. They've got to fill 23 minutes every week. So it doesn't matter what's there, all that matters is that it is there. Like filler, the only reason it exists is to be there, to fill something.

Now the question is...

Is "filler" ever needed for novels?

By definition, "filler" does nothing. It does not make your story better. It does not bring you closer to the characters. It does not set the tone. If it did any of those things, it wouldn't be "filler"!

So when would you want a load of words to be in your story that does nothing but use up pages? Never. Not for a regular book or short story, at least.

So... why do some say "filler" is good in some circumstances?

I suspect it's because they're not talking about filler. They're talking about something different.

Another anime trope is the "beach episode," where the cast take a break from the story and just go to the beach and hang out. Nothing of note happens at the beach. The characters don't grow, we don't learn anything new, and they all go home ready for the story to continue in the next episode.

In fact, such episodes can just pop up out of nowhere. It makes no sense that they could actually go to the beach and hang out in that moment, but they just wanted to throw in a beach episode, so a beach episode just... happened.

Even so, episodes like this are enjoyed by the fans for several reasons. One reason is, the fans like the characters and simply enjoy their banter and shenanigans even if it's nothing to do with the story. (Another being they get to see anime characters less-than-clothed.)

That kind of episode is filler, because it does nothing beyond use up air time. But it's still enjoyable because we get to hang with the characters without the drama of the story getting in the way. So it's understandable that some conflate the two, thinking that "filler" must mean characters hanging out, or the scene isn't action packed, or something like that.

But that isn't actually true.

Filler episodes can have just as much action and stuff going on and still not impact the story, and still not have any time to hang out with the characters. So filler doesn't mean getting to know the characters.

And hanging-out-with-the-characters episodes can show new things about the characters which will be important later, or simply intensify the drama that happens later in the story. So such episodes by definition are not filler.

In fact, a character-hangout can only be a "filler" if it doesn't show anything new about the characters; if it doesn't show or change the relationships between characters. The moment it does anything useful like that, it stops being filler and becomes just a normal scene that still adds to the story that happens to be low-intensity.

Even in storytelling, "filler" doesn't mean a scene with no plot progression or low-stakes or low-impact or low-action. It means it has zero impact beyond that section of any sort. Low-stakes scenes are exactly the kinds of scenes where the characters can interact, where the reader can get to know them, where the background of the world can be filled in.

People are right--those are good scenes to have in your story. And varying the intensity of scenes so that some are big and some are small is what pacing is all about! But the fact they're doing something for the story means it is not filler. It's simply a low-intensity scene.

So feel free to have low-intensity scenes in your stories. But you never need to add filler.

Oh wow, so all we've covered so far is what "filler" means in the first place. But now that we understand what we're talking about...

How is this useful?

There are two main things to take away from this discussion. The first is what "filler" means: zero impact. No change if it's removed entirely.

The second is that there's more that a scene can add to a story than simply plot progression. Character development, character change, worldbuilding... all those kinds of things add to the reader's experience of the story as a whole, even if those ways are subtle or the reader may not realise why it's included.

To say that such things are just "filler" discounts them as meaningless fluff you don't need to put any thought into. Or, it raises the idea of "filler" to something that really enhances any story--which it, by definition does not do.

Unless you have a deadline of releasing a new scene every week and you're behind on figuring out the next non-filler story beat, we don't need to write filler at all. In which case, to seek to add filler is to purposefully pad out the word count of your story with nothing--lowering the overall impact of the story itself.

What if you already have a scene that feels like filler?

Of course, you can simply remove it and suffer little effect on the rest fo the story.

There are times when a scene "feels like filler" to a reader, even if it has elements that do add to the story. Just remember what filler means: zero impact. The less apparent impact a scene has on anything, the closer to pure "filler" it is.

So, try adding more complexity to it. Doesn't have to push the plot forward or have action in it, but the key part is to make it feel like there's a point in reading that section. It might even be a case of making what's there stand out even more, make it more dramatic, something like that.

What if you're struggling to write a scene?

On the other hand, I sometimes see writers asking for help because they're struggling trying to write a filler scene. Or there's a scene they want to have in the story but they're getting blocked trying to write it.

They're struggling because it's a filler scene. If they don't know that, there's something in the back of their mind that senses it. And if they do know it's a filler scene... they know it's pointless even writing it.

In which case, if you still want that scene to be there, the key is to make it not filler. Or... less close to having zero impact. Come up with a reason why it has to be there--what part of the later story does it make work? What dramatic moment does it intensify because this moment happened?

Now you've got a solid reason for writing the scene, it should be a lot easier to get yourself to write it!