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lets-try-some-writing · 8 days ago

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In your Young Titan Au, I find it so beautiful with the idea of Optimus creating hot spots on a planet he loves (Earth). I wonder what his Titan like powers or abilities could be. Or how he would repel Megs from him when it comes to the buckethead's schemes.

Oooooh okay a request for part two. Gotcha. Previous part here.

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"Decepticons incoming!" Smokescream screamed, bolting down from the half completed outer wall of the developing settlement. Ratchet perked up instantly, abandoning his scans of Optimus's new spark chamber to assess the situation. They knew the Decepticons would find them eventually, but Ratchet had hoped that the false signals they sent out would buy them more time. At least long enough for the budding settlement to complete its outer frame.

"Fortify the walls! Keep the newbuilds out of potential firing range!" Ultra Magnus moved before Ratchet could. The Commander strode forward, the team swiftly obeying him and rushing to stand along the walls. Ratchet cursed as the Nemesis came fully into view. How in Primus's name were they to stand against that? Optimus was still so exposed. His spark chamber wasn't even fully encased yet. All Megatron would have to do was launch one well aimed missile and Optimus would be done for-

"Stay calm. Creator has this under control." Ratchet's spiraling thoughts were cut off by the calming voice of the newbuild who greeted them weeks ago. The newbuild smiled as if nothing in the world were wrong, his painfully familiar optics cycling in relaxed manner as he looked from Ratchet to the skies. He was small still, having not gone through his first reformat yet. To Ratchet, his commentary was beyond foolish.

"You are young, Pax. You don't know what the Decepticons are capable of or what they will do to us if they can get on the ground." Ratchet hurried to his pedes, assessing Optimus's spark chamber again. It was huge, most certainly meant for a Titan. Already Optimus's spark was growing to fill up the basic shell that had grown around him. He had no chamber walls, nor did his settlement yet have more than the framework for what would eventually become buildings. He was completely and totally exposed, his very spark a burning beacon to all who might witness it.

There was no covering or moving him. Optimus was firmly rooted. Yet, the Prime, if he could even be called a Prime anymore, did not seem worried. His spark did not spin in anxiety or stress, instead sending out waves of ease that were completely at odds with the situation. It didn't ease Ratchet a bit. For all he knew, Optimus was blind, deaf, and unaware of the situation. No titans had ever been documented forming in this manner, but it was a well known fact that without a city frame to see and hear through, the Titan was effectively stranded. Especially without a speaker.

Optimus's frame was still forming, having barely gotten anything close to skeleton completed in the form of building framework. He had very few sensors, save for the cables that slithered across the ground, helping to form what would one day become a mighty living city... if they all survived at any rate. The Prime turned TItan needed protection- protection Ratchet could not see the team being able to provide.

There was a reason the Titans of old had armadas to defend them.

"They will kill your creator, Pax. Megatron has a grudge against Optimus that far predates you, and he will stop at nothing to see his rival fall." Ratchet frowned, readying his welder. It wouldn't be much, but when the worst inevitably came to worst, he would fight until his spark went out. Looking at the Nemesis now looming not far away, Ratchet could see Vehicons starting to come their way, with Starscream likely at their head.

"Take the rest of the newbuilds and head toward Jasper. Choose Earth alternate modes and travel until you find a human male named Agent Fowler. He will take care of you after we fall." The Vehicons were approaching fast. The team were ready, each with blasters raised along the wall. But it was not going to be enough. There was no way it could be enough.

Pax, curse him and his similarities to his namesake, didn't so much as twitch as he stayed right by Ratchet's side. The medic could feel his optic twitch in growing agitation.

"I said take the newbuilds and go-!"

"It is fine. Creator has this under control."

Pax cut him off with a faint smile, his finials perking up as if he were observing the weather on a casual walk. He may have been boxier than his Creator, but by the Allspark, he had all of Optimus's attitude before he took the Matrix.

Ratchet wanted to grab the newbuild and throw him. But as the rest of the newbuilds started to gather around, he hesitated. There were perhaps seven at the moment, but they were all stoic, none at all concerned. It set Ratchet surprisingly on edge, especially as the team began to fire at the incoming attackers.

"Pax, please. You and your siblings are the future. You can't fall here." Ratchet tried to plead with the eldest of the newbuilds, but Pax maintained his smile, totally sure of himself. Ratchet looked to the rest, seeing that they were similarly unphased. If Pax wouldn't leave, neither would they.

Loyal glitches.

"Fine. Stay behind me. If the worst comes to worst, you run. Hear me?" He received no answer, but Ratchet readied himself regardless. If this was to be his funeral, he was going to take at least a dozens Decepticons down with him.

"It's alright, Ratchet. Creator is calling for his Speaker. It won't be long now." What?

"Starscream!" Someone screamed, Ratchet couldn't tell who. The next he knew, a blast went off mere feet away from him, forcing him to step back and reassess just in time for one notorious seeker to land where the blast echoed a moment before. Ratchet was unable to get a word in before Pax spoke up.

"Welcome. Optimus Prime greets you." If Ratchet's optics could get any bigger, they would have as Pax and the rest stepped aside, leaving a path to Optimus's very spark. He grunted, rushing to stand in the seeker's way. But before he could, many small but strong arms pulled him back, each muttering something vaguely soothing.

"It's alright, doctor."

"Everything is going to be fine."

"This is part of the process."

Their words did little to calm him, but Ratchet found himself unable to struggle as Starscream stepped closer. He didn't appear malicious, rather... almost in a daze. His optics were wide, his wings dipped and his expression awed. There was not a hint of cruelty to be seen in him as he calmly, nearly reverently, approached Optimus's partially developed core.

Distantly Ratchet heard Vehicons transforming and landing a ways off, the team rushing forward to keep them contained. It meant very little as the seeker came a mere pedestep away from his Prime's very core. The air was so tense it could have been cut with a knife as Starscream reached out-

And Optimus reached back.

The world slowed for a dazzling second. And then, in a mere nano-klik, light came from Optimus and wrapped around the seeker. Starscream didn't even fight back as his frame started to shift. The adjustments were all subtle at first, but the longer the strange connection continued, the more Starscream changed. Power flowed from Optimus to his chosen, and amidst the process, Ratchet heard Starscream speak.

"Why me?"

Then, as if summoned, the newbuilds replied in a choir like tone.

"Because you are the last Prince of Vos, the last to have seen a Titan walk Cybertron's scorched surface."

One by one the newbuilds abandoned Ratchet's side, instead stepping up closer to Starscream as his spindly frame bulked out, bright red, white, and blue taking the place of gunmetal gray. They were all content, especially as Starscream's previously emaciated expression became filled out, fear and confusion changing to acceptance.

"Creator wishes to restore our people, to let seekers rule the sky and grounders roam the earth. He is tired of war... are you not also?" A deep silence echoed, not even the Vehicons daring to speak up as everyone, the team included, watched on. After what could have been a klik or an eternity, Starscream replied.

"Yes. I'm tired of fighting this meaningless war. I'm tired of cowering... I want this all to end." With those haunting words, Optimus's spark flared, his very soul blazing like a newborn star. As it did, Starscream's optics lit up a momentary brilliant blue, and the voice that escaped him was not entirely his own.

"Then join with me, son of Vos. You shall be my voice, and I, your safe haven." Not a word was uttered as Starscream surveyed those around him, his optics returning to their usual red. He looked over his frame, curious, but not upset. Ratchet wasn't sure how to feel, or even if he could feel anything at all as the seeker turned Speaker addressed his Vehicons.

"I... I will not be returning to Lord- Megatron. You may do so if you wish. But I will not fight against this Titan. Not on his or anyone else's orders." Ratchet had to reset his audials and optics, but it changed exactly nothing as Starscream stared at his former subordinates. They all stared back, the team still keeping their blasters trained on them.

Then, as if Primus himself wanted to mock Ratchet for having been worried at all, the Vehicons dropped to a knee, and Starscream smiled.

"That was the correct choice." Starscream grinned, his usual arrogance again rearing its helm as he sneered down at everyone, save for the newbuilds.

"Knockout had the right idea about joining the winning team." The team burst into accusations and various cries of confusion. Ratchet didn't have the energy to bother. Starscream was apparently an ally now, alongside a good half of Megatron's air forces. That made defending Optimus a whole lot easier, if uncomfortable.

Slag Optimus and his cryptic ways.

"See? Everything worked out." Pax, the smug little creature that he was, patted Ratchet on the shoulder. He looked so stupidly pleased with himself and seeing his expression, Ratchet could feel life draining out of his frame.

"My apologies, Megatron. But I will not be returning. I have a new master now, one who has promised me far more than you could ever offer in exchange for my services." Starscream tapped his audial, likely sending a message back to the Nemesis.

On one servo, his presence gave them a fighting chance. On the other, all Ratchet could think about the mech were two simple words.

Slimy glitch.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #optimus prime #alternate universe #ratchet #team prime #megatron #starscream #titans #young titan au #writing this while tired so please have mercy

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in1-nutshell · 10 months ago

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(One I am sorry if I am flooding your ask box is just I really love how you write) maybe old Predacon buddy get transported into the Earth spark universe how would they interact with Megatron from that universe possible hostility and will possibly gush over the terrans(is that how I say it?) Just overall more grandpa vibes

Old Predacon Buddy is going to start their own passport or scrapbook filled with their travels to other dimensions with all of their alternative grandkids.

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy the Old Predacon meeting the Terrans and Megatron

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronian reader

TFP/TFE

Buddy was going to start keeping a personal travel log on all the different places outside their universe if this keeps up.

One minute they were peacefully watching Bumblebee and Bulkhead spar in the training room.

The next thing they knew they were thrown into a small clearing in the middle of the woods.

It was a peaceful piece of land if they were being honest.

They knew they needed to start thinking about how to get back home, again, but the scenery caught their optics.

Full of nice trees and moss, a perfect spot to nap.

Snap!

Buddy turns their helm to spot two small Bot and human girl and boy.

“…Hello?”--Buddy

“Hi!”—All of them

Buddy, a little stunned by the response, waves their tail.

The little girl and the bot next to her come closer.

The other two come after wards.

“We heard a large thud noise and found you here.”—Small red bot

“Did you now?”--Buddy

“Bet that was you making a crash landing.”—Small human girl

“You could say that. These portals aren’t known for giving bots nice landings.”--Buddy

“Portals? Like a spacebridge?”—Small human boy

“…Yes, like a spacebridge. How do you know what a space bridge is?”--Buddy

“Dad and Dad 2 talked about them.”—Small red bot

“Dad…Dad 2?”--Buddy

“Yeah well, Dad talked about it in the comics.”—Small white bot

“Excuse me, comics?”--Buddy

“Yeah, these things!”—Small white bot

Buddy is shown a comic with Optimus and Megatron fighting on the front page.

“Do… do all humans know about our species?”--Buddy

“Duh. You’re not from around here, are you?”—Small white bot

“I’m not. I’m from another dimension.”--Buddy

“Wow! So Cool!”—Small human girl

“Mo, they need to get back home.”--Small human boy

Buddy tilting their helm a bit.

“Mo? Is that your name little one?”--Buddy

“Yep! This is my big brother Robbie and our other brother Thrash and sister Twitch.”--Mo

“Brother… and sister…”--Buddy

“We found them in a cave, well more like created.”--Robbie

Buddy sitting down putting a servo over their face.

Buddy vents hard.

“Hold on a second kiddo. This…this is a lot to process at the moment.”--Buddy

“Robbie! Mo! Where did you guys go?”

“Wait I found them!”

Three more bots come from the brush.

Buddy just stares at them.

The orange and green one transform into their beast modes and stand in front of group. The large purple one looks like they are ready to fight.

“Who are you!”—Green owl bot

“Nightshade wait that bot’s friendly!”--Mo

“How do you know? They look like they can eat you whole Mo!”—Large purple one

“We should judge a book by its cover Hashtag.”—Small dinobot

“If it helps, I can give you my name. But you must promise not to ask questions about it.”--Buddy

“Deal.”--Mo

“Buddy.”--Buddy

“…Your name is Buddy?”--Robbie

“Yep.”--Buddy

“…okay! These are our other siblings, Hashtag, Nightshade and Jawbreaker.”--Thrash

Buddy nodding before taking notice of how young these bots looked.

“You said you found your siblings in a cave, correct? How long were they there?”--Buddy

“I think less than a year ago.”--Mo

Buddy looks like they are about to have a stroke.

Mo mentioned that their mother and father would want to meet them. Maybe even help them find a way back home.

As the little group walked towards the farm, Buddy followed making sure to watch each one carefully.

There was no way that these literal sparkling’s were leaving their sight.

Alex and Dot were extremely surprised to see the kids bring in a giant mechanical dragon home.

They looked even bigger than Megatron!

“Kids… who’s your new friend here?”--Alex

Buddy bowing their helm a little in respect.

“Hello there. My name is Buddy. I am an Autobot from another dimension. I fell into your world through some sort of portal.”--Buddy

“Wow…”--Alex

“Your name is Buddy?”--Dot

Buddy venting a bit.

“Yes Ma’am. That is my name it suites my personality, I’ve been told.”--Buddy

Dot looks at her kids.

“Did any of you—”--Dot

“We didn’t bring the giant dragon here!”--Thrash

“I am a Predacon little one.”--Buddy

“What’s a Predacon?”--Jawbreaker

“…I’ll explain it later. Umm…”--Buddy

“I’m Dot, this is my husband, Alex.”--Dot

Alex looking starstruck at Buddy.

“Hello—”--buddy

“Can you fly?”--Alex

“Dad!”—the kids

“Alex!”--Dot

Buddy chuckling a bit before dipping their helm to the ground in front of him.

“Would you like to see for yourself?”--Buddy

“I like them!”--Alex

“Can I go too!”--Mo

“And me!”--Robbie

“And me!”--Hashtag

“One at a time little ones. Dot? Is there someone you can contact that could--”--Buddy

“Already calling the big guys. They should be here any minute.”--Dot

Buddy was pleased and agreed to wait.

In the meantime, Buddy had already taken an oath to protect the young ones with their life while they were still here.

Buddy also wondered whose alternatives they were going to run into this time around.

Buddy played around with the little ones when a yellow sports car came speeding in and transformed.

“Dot! I got the call—SWEET SOLUS PRIME!”--Bumblebee

Buddy turning to the yellow bot with a happy grin on their face plate.

Buddy easily walks up to him with four of the Malto bots hanging from their frame.

“Bumblebee! My, my I haven’t met an alternative of you yet. And your voice!”--Buddy

Buddy looking around his neck cables.

“Not a scratch!”--Buddy

“Can someone explain!”--Bumblebee

“Oh sorry! Where are my manners. My name is Buddy, I am an Autobot from another dimension and Dot dear here was nice enough to contact some bots that could potentially help me with my problem.”--Buddy

“…”--Bumblebee

“It’s a lot to take in. Take your time little one.”--Buddy

Did Bee feel a bit intimidated about the giant dragon talking to him in such high regards.

Yes.

But at the same time, he didn’t.

Despite the grand size of the bot, they were a softy.

They really lived up to their name.

Soon enough a familiar truck comes in.

“Is that Prime?”--Buddy

“Oh yeah Optimus is here.”--Dot

“That’s—”--Bumblebee

A grey helicopter starts hovering above the truck.

“…Bumblebee. Who’s that?”--Buddy

“Megatron.”--Bumblebee

Buddy nearly snaps their neck at how fast they look at him.

“Excuse me?!”--Buddy

“What?”--Dot

“Megatron? Here? The leader of the Decepticons?”--Buddy

“Oh, he isn’t a Con anymore. He’s one of us now.”--Bumblebee

Buddy’s wings drop as the kids go welcome the Prime and ex-warlord.

“Your war is…is it over?”--Buddy

Bee and Dot look at Buddy who seemed to have aged dramatically in the few seconds of hearing that news.

“Yeah, its over…I take it yours isn’t?”--Bumblebee

Buddy shaking their helm.

“What about the other Decepticon’s?”--Buddy

“Some are doing their own thing and others do cause trouble from time to time.”--Bumblebee

Buddy huffs a bit.

“Next thing you’re going to tell me is that Starscream is the leader.”--Buddy

“I mean—”--Bumblebee

“This is the part where you tell me that isn’t true…”--Buddy

“Well…”--Dot

“…please say sike right now…”--Buddy

Prime and Megatron start walking over.

Buddy straightens themselves and transforms to go shake the Leaders servos.

“Optimus. Megatron.”--Buddy

“That’s us. And who might you be stranger?”--Megtron

Buddy suppressing a tiny sob.

“Buddy, sir. My name is Buddy.”--Buddy

“Strange name, but it looks like it suites you well.”--Optimus

“Thank you Prime. I take it that you two can help me get back home?”--Buddy

“We will do our best Buddy.”--Optimus

Buddy smiles at the two.

“That’s all I could ask for. Thank you.”--buddy

Buddy eventually sat down and talked to the two mechs while more bots were coming their way.

Buddy met the alternatives of some fellow bots they knew or had known throughout the war.

They nearly got teary eyed when they met this alternative of Elita One.

Buddy found it a bit hard to connect the dots between this version of Arcee and Wheeljack.

According to Wheeljack, it was going to take a couple of days to make sure that Buddy would get sent to the right dimension.

Buddy didn’t mind too much as they spent most of their time with the kids.

These kids lived for Buddy’s play time and stories.

“Then what did you do?”--Jawbreaker

“Well kiddo, I took that hammer and threw it at our Commander. He was able to help our Wheeljack and Bulkhead while I managed to get us some cover from the Vechicons.”--Buddy

“Cool!”--Thrash

“Buddy, I have a question.”--Nightshade

“What might that be Nightshade?”--Buddy

“You mentioned once that you were a gladiator of sorts right?”--Nightshade

“Yes, that was during my younger years.”--Buddy

“How young though?”--Nightshade

“Hmm… probably around the first hundreds of years give or take.”--Buddy

“…”—The kids

“Kids?”--Buddy

“How old are you?”--Robbie

“…How about another story?”--Buddy

“How old!”--Twitch

“Storytime!”--Buddy

“How old Buddy!”--Hashtag

“Dot! Restrain you kids!”—Buddy

Soon enough it was time for Buddy to go back home.

Buddy made sure they hugged every single one of their new friends before going close to the portal.

Buddy made sure to give extras as they were leaving.

Buddy came out of the portal and into the halls of the base.

Only to get immediately hit in the helm by a lob ball.

“OW! Who threw that!”--Buddy

“Buddy!?”--Miko

Miko starts running to Buddy in the Apex armor.

“Wait Miko the armor—”--Buddy

Miko jumps into Buddy’s open arms.

Buddy falls backwards with a hard thud.

“Miko, I’m not as young as I was before.”--Buddy

Miko doesn’t listen, too busy hugging Buddy.

“You need to stop disappearing like that.”--Miko

“Trust me if I had a choice I would stay with the team. The universe seems to have different plans. At least I always end back home.”--buddy

“You got that right.”--Miko

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp x platonic reader #tfe x platonic reader #tfe terrans #tfe terrans x platonic reader

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theragethatisdesire · 1 year ago

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"l’amore è cieco" - eren x reader - 18+!!!

back to the ti penso universe!!! finally!! did you guys miss it? i know i did; i am utterly obsessed with these two. i've had this sitting in my unfinished wip pile for way too long not to share.

our lovebirds have gotten the wedding all wrapped up with, so we're a solid four years past them reuniting in italy....and surprise! they're expecting!!!!! i could literally scream just writing that; the grip dad!eren has on me will never let up, i fear......anyways, this one's a little rough because i've picked it apart a thousand times and i'm just tired of editing, so you guys enjoy!!! sorry if it's not quite up to par :/

pairing: eren x reader

wc: 4k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, reader is pregnant, use of names (baby, mama, pretty, beautiful, etc), swearing, vaginal sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, lactation kink, creampie, crying, tooth-rotting fluff

title means "love is blind" in italian, per tradition w this verse <3

Right on schedule with your new daily, depressing routine, you stand in front of the mirror running your hands over your body, examining the recent changes. On second thought, scrutinizing might be a better word.

You’re grateful your job has allowed you to work from home for your entire pregnancy, editing articles from the journalists who can actually travel while snuggled up on your couch, but the downside of it is that you’ve had far too much time to mull on all of the ways your body has stretched and warped to accommodate the growing little girl in your stomach. You thought pregnancy was supposed to be beautiful, and sometimes it is, but more often than not, you just feel like a swollen, hormonal mess.

You “popped”, as all the mommy podcasts say, about two weeks ago, and thin stretch marks have begun to appear on your stomach. Eren calls them your “tiger stripes”, having been in full-blown cringe dad mode since the day you took the test. Bizarre cravings control you at all hours of the day, evidenced by the little black crumbs you’re picking out of your sports bra, left behind by your fourteen-Oreo breakfast today. You gaze longingly at the jewelry box on your bathroom counter; you haven’t been able to wear your wedding band in weeks, the tan line already beginning to fade from your finger. Before you can get a hold of yourself, the hormones have you in their grip, and hot, frustrated tears are spilling down your cheeks.

“Babe, have you seen that tie with the red–” Eren materializes in the doorway with absolutely no warning, as he’s prone to do, but cuts himself off at the sight of you, “baby, no, again?”

“Don’t say it like that,” you say, reluctantly allowing him to take you in his arms.

“Like what?” Eren’s voice is sweet, but hesitant. He’s been living under the constant threat of getting his head bitten off for mundane reasons because of you. It makes you feel worse, makes you shove him away and glare at him accusingly.

“Like I’m always fucking crying.” You are always crying, but you wish he would at least muster up some semblance of surprise at finding you in tears yet again. You turn away from him, wiping your face in the mirror. “Shouldn’t you be packing? Your flight leaves in like, three hours.”

“I’ll cancel,” Eren coos, stepping behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, picking your belly up in his hands.

It’s some hack he got off Tik Tok, supposed to take the weight off of your back for a precious moment, and as much as you don’t necessarily want to be touched right now, it actually helps. You’ve been alternating between thinking Eren’s overenthusiastic parenting research is adorable and mind-numbingly annoying, but for the moment, your back has stopped aching for the first time all morning, and you sigh, leaning into him.

“You can’t cancel,” you murmur, momentarily soothed, “‘s a big client. Where is it again? France?”

“I just got back from France, Miss Pregnancy Brain,” Eren chuckles, quieting immediately upon catching your lethal gaze in the mirror. “It’s just over in LA, and honestly, I could have Hitch go if you need me.”

“No, I can take care of myself, it’s just like…” a fresh wave of tears spills down your cheeks, “fuck, I don’t even know what’s wrong with me.”

Eren nods into your shoulder, letting you sniffle. It’s not a new trait, your outright refusal to ask for help, but it’s been exacerbated by your pregnancy, especially considering exactly how much help you actually need now.

You’ve taken custody of all of his sweatpants, not yet able to bring yourself to buy maternity clothes. You’d walked in sobbing and humiliated the other day because you’d peed yourself on the long elevator ride up to your apartment in front of the neighbors. You can’t sleep on your stomach anymore; Eren has to prop himself up just right beside you and sandwich you between himself and a wall of pillows to stop you from turning. You know it hurts him seeing you miserable, and you try to suck it up and enjoy the positives of pregnancy as much as you can, but you can’t muster up that strength every day.

“Hush,” Eren pulls your wet face to his chest, letting you stain the Number 1 Dad! t-shirt he had bought himself. “I’m not going.”

“Eren–”

“I’m not,” he says firmly, rubbing small circles into the bottom of your spine, “you need me here, whether you want to admit it or not.”

You grumble complacently, nuzzling into him. You do need him, as much as you want to think you can tough it out on your own. Eren’s bought book after book, not just for the baby, but for you. Most nights you find him reading titles like You’ve Made the Baby…Now What? or How to Survive Pregnancy: A Guide for Men with his feet propped up on the coffee table, a habit that, despite your efforts, you cannot nag him out of. It’s cute, honestly, how over-the-top he’s gotten with baby prep, especially when you’re often too exhausted to wrap your mind around reading a parenting guide.

“I feel ugly,” you admit quietly, sticky and snotty against his shirt. “I feel disgusting.”

“What?” Eren’s reaction is one of genuine confusion. He pushes you away from him so he can search your face, waiting patiently for you to elaborate.

“I’m gaining an obscene amount of weight, my ankles are the size of my knees, I can’t wear a single one of my rings, what am I supposed to feel like?”

Eren frowns. “Those things are supposed to happen. I read last night–”

“I don’t care!” Your voice cracks under the weight of your frustration, and you press your fingers into your eyes hard enough to see stars, trying to regain control of your temper. “I don’t care that it’s supposed to happen. It still sucks.”

“I think you’re beautiful,” Eren sounds earnest, but you scoff at him anyway.

“We’re married. You’re supposed to say that.”

“I don’t have to.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “If you want your head to stay on your shoulders you do.”

Eren laughs at that, tugging you over to stand between his legs as he sits on the bed. “So, you’re serious? You genuinely don’t think you look good pregnant?”

“No,” you rub at your nose, “I don’t.”

Eren looks up at you, cupping your face gently. “I disagree.”

“Do you really?”

“I think you look better than ever.”

“That’s an insult to non-pregnant me,” you roll your eyes, moving to step away, but Eren holds you tight between his legs.

“It’s not,” he insists, “there’s just some things your pregnant body has that you didn’t necessarily have before. Some things that I like.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “Cankles?”

Eren chuckles breathily, shaking his head. “I adore your cankles, but they weren't exactly the first thing that came to mind. Take these, for one thing.”

Eren presses his nose into your sports bra, hands moving up underneath to palm at your swollen tits. You let out a breathy laugh as he explores, already feeling a low heat beginning to simmer in your core. That’s one perk of entering your second trimester; your hormones might turn on a dime, but your sex drive has skyrocketed.

Eren shoves your bra up to free your tits, groaning appreciatively as he takes a nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking. You watch as he feels his way around with his mouth, humming contentedly under your breath, when suddenly, his eyes fly open and he shoots away from you.

“What?”

Eren shushes you, bringing a hand to the breast that had been in his mouth and squeezing lightly. White liquid beads on your nipple, and you cover your face in shame.

“When did that start?”

“A few days ago,” you admit, trying to push his hands off of you, cheeks burning. Eren swats you away, leaning back into your nipple, sucking harder. You can feel a small stream of milk leaving you, relieving some of the pressure in your tits; a moan rumbles deep in Eren’s chest, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Eren releases your nipple with a loud pop and looks up at you panting, eyes blown wide.

“Is it weird that that’s kinda hot?”

“Probably.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No,” you hum, threading your hands through his hair and urging him back to your chest, “feels good.”

That’s all Eren needs to hear, diving back into your chest with renewed vigor. As he continues, you realize it doesn’t just feel good, it actually feels incredible. You’ve always had sensitive breasts, but with the pregnancy, sensation has increased tenfold; you can feel your panties getting wetter as the weight of your full breast decreases. When Eren’s gotten all he can from your left nipple, he moves to your right, replacing his mouth on the now-abandoned nipple with his hand to twist gently at the wet skin.

The combined sensation makes your knees buckle; Eren saves you smoothly by wrapping an arm around your lower back, yanking you to him to straddle his leg. It’s the perfect angle for you to roll your hips against his thigh slowly, feeling the much-needed friction of his sweatpants against your cunt.

“Eren…” you breathe out, voice nothing more than a wisp of air.

“I know baby,” Eren speaks directly into your flesh, not willing to back away for even a moment, “feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Feels so good,” you whimper, clutching him to you with fistfuls of his hair.

“Told you this new body’s not so bad, hm?” Eren closes his teeth down on your nipple lightly; you almost keel over from the shockwave it sends through you.

You nod, rubbing yourself against his thigh faster. It’s awkward and cumbersome with your belly in the way, but it’s enough for now, enough to light your nerves on fire in that way that only Eren’s ever been able to.

“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” Eren mutters, grabbing onto your hips to help you get your rhythm right, “you’re so perfect, and you don’t even see it.”

Your fingers dig into his arms as you moan. “But my stomach–”

“But nothing,” Eren kisses you, mumbling into your mouth, “love your stomach, love your tits, love all of it. You think it doesn’t make me so fucking hard, watching you walk around with that big belly and knowing what it came from? I did that. We did that, didn’t we baby?”

“Mhm,” you bite into his shoulder, the friction on your clit through your sweatpants is getting to your head, making you dizzy. “Eren, Eren–”

“Sh sh sh,” Eren shushes you, moving so that he can look you in the eyes, “what do you need? Tell me.”

“I don’t– I don’t know, I just…” you can’t find the words, so in need of him that you can’t even decide what sounds best. His mouth? His fingers? All of it?

“Okay, okay,” Eren says quietly, standing you both up only to lay you against the pillows, “I’ve gotcha.”

He nudges his sweatpants down your legs, bringing your panties with them, spreads your legs so he can see the most intimate part of you. Eren brings his hand to your clit, rubbing tentatively, but you’re so desperate for him that it’s enough to make your back arch, a long, throaty moan ripping out of you. He lays beside you, gently playing with your clit and watching in awe at the reaction you give him, already a blubbering mess after only a few minutes.

“So sensitive, aren’t you mama?”

“Yes,” you hiss out through clenched teeth, a fresh wave of arousal flooding you at the name, “s-so sensitive. Need to cum, I need, n-need–”

“I’ll make you cum,” Eren promises, sinking a finger into you, “I’ll make you cum, baby.”

“Fuck, Eren, it’s– I can’t–”

“Feel good?”

“So fucking good,” you’re basically sobbing at this point, fingers clenched into the muscles of his bicep, clinging to him and humping his hand. You’re not sure if it’s the lack of sex over the first trimester (“What if I hit the baby’s head?” Eren had asked nervously whenever you approached him) or the rawness of the sensation against your over-sensitive body, but you’ve never been so close to your orgasm so quickly.

You don’t hold out long; Eren’s skilled with even just one finger, and before long, you’re crying out his name, gushing all over his hand. Eren presses his lips to your forehead in a sweet kiss despite having utterly destroyed you less than thirty seconds ago.

“Ready for me?”

“Sit,” you pant, pointing to the massive stack of pillows against your headboard. Eren raises his eyebrows in surprise, but does as he’s told, only pausing to pull his clothes off. The loss of the stupid dad t-shirt is a relief as much as feeling his bare chest under your hands. Due to your hormones, you’ve thrown Eren out of the house several times, and you’ve demanded to be alone enough to where his only solution is to go to the gym downstairs and work out until you’ve calmed down. It shows: his chest has grown broader and stronger, and the veins on his arms are nearly popping through the skin. “You look good.”

“Yeah?” Eren offers a shit-eating grin, flexing his bicep ever so subtly. “You should see yourself.”

“You seriously think I look good like this?” You’re straddling his hips now, rubbing your clit on his bare cock. It’s a lewd sight, his cock drooling on his abs, glistening with your cum; your cunt clenches around nothing, more than ready to be filled.

“Mhm, you look so fucking good like that,” Eren grunts, hands finding your hips again and lifting you up to sink you down on his cock, both of you letting out loud, satisfied groans, “but you look much better like this.”

You grind your hips against his, not possessing the energy to bounce your now-heavier body, but it makes you see stars. Eren rarely lets you ride him, much preferring to bend you over or pin you to the bed himself, but with your bump, you now have an excuse to hop on top of him whenever you like. It’s been close to a decade of fucking him, but the full stretch of him never fails to shock you, the way he pushes into you until you’re positive he’s in your stomach. With Eren sitting up, his cock stays firmly nestled against your g-spot, pushing little bits of squirt out of you with each movement of your hips.

“Eren–” you whimper, holding your breasts as you rock into him.

“Shit- you’re so tight like this,” Eren says through his clenched jaw, throwing his head back against the headboard, “why don’t you ride me more often?”

“You don’t let me,” you say with a watery giggle.

“Stupid,” Eren gasps, “‘m so fucking stupid.”

You’re too fucked out to voice your agreement, opting for sliding a hand down your body to flick at your clit. You can’t quite reach it around your bump, though, a discontented noise leaving your lips. Eren opens his eyes, takes notice of the way you’re hunching your back, and swats your hand away.

“I got it, I got it,” he pants, tucking his hand underneath your swollen belly to rub your clit just the way he knows you like it.

“Oh, f-fuck,” you choke out, throwing your head back.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” you hiss, “‘s perfect.”

“Take what you need, mama,” Eren’s watching you intently, a glimmer of admiration in his eye, “take what you need.”

You’re moaning pitifully, loud and wanton as Eren’s cock moves inside of you. Your cunt tightens around him desperately as the bubble building in your stomach threatens to explode.

“Think you get wetter like this, all swollen with my baby,” Eren muses, leaning forward to latch his mouth around one of your nipples where more milk has already started to pool. His words have a visceral reaction on you; you cry, tears welling in your eyes as you spiral towards your release.

“I think–I think I’m gonna– oh fuck, don’t stop,” you croon, rocking your hips as fast as you can manage. Eren mumbles around your nipple, something about how beautiful you look, and you come undone around him, grinding your hips hard against his and cradling him to your chest. He might have a point- there’s damn near a puddle of your arousal at the base of where you’re connected, slicking up the skin on his hips and the inside of your thighs.

“Better?” Eren pulls you in for a kiss; you can feel him grinning through it.

“Maybe a little,” you admit, laughing light and watery against his mouth.

“Mmm,” Eren hums, grabbing you by the hips and lifting you only to drop you down again and turn your laughter to a quiet whimper, “not good enough. Need you to be much better.”

“Fuck me, then,” you nip at his bottom lip, earn yourself a deep groan.

“Can you— can you hold yourself up like this?” Eren scooches both of you down, albeit, a little awkwardly, so that he can lay flat on the bed. He moves you up until you’ve only got him halfway inside of you, cocking a questioning eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, I–I think so.”

“And you’re sure I’m not going to hurt–”

“Jesus Christ– no Eren, it’s fine, just– fuck,” he cuts you off with a sharp snap of his hips up into yours, grinning menacingly when your eyes roll back.

“Like that?”

“Just like that,” you moan, annoyance wiped from you with one clean stroke. Eren takes that for the green light that it is and starts pistoning his hips up into you, swearing under his breath. Even though he’d instructed you to hold yourself up, he makes good use of his new muscles, suspending you at the perfect height to feel every inch of him as he fucks up into you like his life depends on it.

“You look so fucking gorgeous like this,” Eren growls, “all swollen with my fuckin’ baby. Gonna keep you like this, give you as many as you want.”

“Eren–” you choke out, suffocating on the way he’s fucking you, his words, him. For the first time in months, you feel amazing, holding your chest and groaning long and loud as Eren thrusts up into you.

“Baby, I’m- fuck, not gonna–” Eren cuts himself off with something that sounds suspiciously close to a whimper, throwing his head back.

“Cum in me,” you pant, nodding urgently at him, “want it so bad.”

“Oh fuck,” Eren groans, hips moving impossibly faster. His fingers are digging into your hips near to the point of pain, and that little frown he makes when he’s about to cum is crumpling his face. You do want it, badly.

“Please Eren, I need it,” you gasp, legs trembling on either side of his hips.

“Fucking love you, love you so much,” Eren slurs, hips stuttering. With a long, throaty moan, he slams you down one final time, cumming deep inside of you. You grind against him as he does, moaning along with him at the familiar warmth in your belly. Exhausted, you momentarily forget about your bump and try to collapse facefirst on him- that’s enough to snap Eren out of his post-orgasm haze.

“Whoa, whoa,” Eren shoves you back upright, lifting you under your shoulders and laying you on your back, “careful.”

You wince. “Shit, sorry. Sometimes I forget. It’s still sort of new.”

“I know,” Eren agrees, eyes locked lovingly on your baby bump, “love it, though.”

“Really?”

Eren cocks a disbelieving eyebrow at you. “If that didn’t convince you, I don’t know what will.”

You giggle at that; he’s always been good at this, cheering you up and diffusing your worries like it’s second nature. After ten years, it probably is at this point.

“I don’t mean to be so down on myself, really,” you sigh, tracing a finger over where his hand’s splayed on your stomach, “it’s just…so much harder than I thought it would be.”

Eren nods thoughtfully. “That’s reasonable. But you’re so good at it.”

“I haven’t even– what?” The insecurities that you’ve been successfully masking under good natured teasing and occasional annoyance come slipping from between your lips. You’ve thought it for weeks; how Eren’s so into all the baby stuff, so enthusiastic about learning everything he can, while all you’ve managed is trying not to gag when he cooks eggs in the morning and picking out some onesies. “What about all of your books and your podcasts and crap? You’re the one doing everything.”

“That’s all I can do,” Eren scoffs, “you’re doing all the hard stuff, like carrying the baby around and puking every morning and crying all the time–”

“Hey!”

“I’m serious,” Eren shushes you, “you’re putting in all the legwork. I mean, you’re literally growing our baby. You’re a fucking rockstar mom already. If anyone’s not doing enough here, it’s me.”

That’s one thing about Eren that will never get easier; his deep, unwavering admiration for you, no matter what you’re doing. Sure, it’s endearing when Eren spins you around in his arms for something as simple as finally getting that croissant recipe to come out well, but when he’s praising you for something that’s actually difficult? It’s sweet enough to give you a cavity, warm your heart, and turn your cheeks pink all at once, even after all this time.

“Well, if you’d like to take a shift carrying her around, be my guest. She’s a chunky little thing already,” you roll your eyes, tucking your face into Eren’s ribs to mask the flush rising to your face.

“I’d do it for you if I could,” Eren sighs in faux-thoughtfulness, “but I wouldn’t look half as hot.”

You giggle furiously when he lands a slap to your ass, swatting at his chest. “God, it still doesn’t feel real, does it? A little girl that’s half you, half me.”

“It does and it doesn’t,” Eren shrugs, bringing a hand back to your stomach, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been thinking about it since Italy.”

You gape at him. “That long?”

“You know I’m always ahead of you on this stuff,” Eren teases, squeezing your cheeks together, “knew I wanted you first, knew I wanted you back first, knew we should get married…”

“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes at his bragging, “it’s just, like…are we ready? To do this?”

“This?” Eren cocks his head.

“The whole…‘parents’ thing.”

“Putting aside the fact that you're way too late to be having those kinds of thoughts,” Eren says, rubbing your lower back, “of course we’re ready. There’s no perfect parents, but I believe in us– believe in you. Gonna be the best mama any baby’s ever had, I know you will.”

“I don’t even…oh, Eren.” You’re tearing up again–damn hormones. Eren wipes at your tears, planting a big kiss on your forehead.

“I mean it. You’re going to be great, already are,” he says, smiling down at you. He holds you just like that for a few moments, letting you nuzzle into his chest, until his little grin grows wicked. “Although…the only thing I can say I am worried about is which one of us is going to accidentally teach her her first swear word. Should we bet on it?"

Even through your tears, you cock an eyebrow at him. “You and I both know that’s going to be Jean. Especially after what you taught Clara the last time we babysat.”

Eren barks out a laugh. “Hey, hearing her call Jean ‘Daddy Jackass’ was funny, and you know it!”

“Thanks for reminding me,” you smirk, “now I know what I’m teaching our little girl first.”

“No way!”

#eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #eren jaeger fanfic #eren jaeger fanfiction #ti penso universe #ti penso uni

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autistichalsin · 4 months ago

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Gameplay changes I'd make to BG3 if I was in charge:

(Under a read more bc this is an insanely long list)

Ability to make party changes without going back to camp; I.E. "hey Lae'zel, go back to camp and tell Karlach to come here."

Able to see companion approval at all times even if they're not in the party

Able to make checks with any character, not just Tav. You used to be able to do this to an extent by having other characters do conversations, but when they made it so Tav was prioritized back in patch 6, they changed it so that even if you click with another companion, it switches to Tav. Ideally they would fix it so that if the conversation triggers automatically, it prioritizes Tav, and if you deliberately start a conversation with another companion, it recognizes that you wanted that.

Better item sorting. "Most recent" actually sorts by when you acquired the item.

Ability to text search for an item if you know its name.

Ability to mark an item as a favorite so you don't accidentally sell it/drop it/send it back to camp.

Quest items don't count against your weight total.

Quest items that are no longer relevant are no longer marked as quest items.

Either allow for character leveling past 12 (Even if class leveling is limited to 12) or adjust the difficulty across the board so you scale more evenly. Act 1 becomes a bit easier, act 2 remains about the same, act 3 becomes a lot harder. I should not hit the level cap early in act 3.

Alternatively, at least give a reward in lieu of XP when you hit the level cap. Items, gold, a points system that lets you use excess XP to buy additional spell slots/wilshape charges/rage charges/bardic inspiration, something.

Story mode; battles are disabled, allowing you to solely explore and focus on the story elements.

Dark Urge as a companion.

Ability to change who your unfortunate murder victim is, outside of Alfira and Quill. Maybe it's Zevlor, or Rolan, or Kagha.

More recruitable evil companions. Kagha, Wulbren, and Ethel are a good start.

Halsin recruitable in act 1 or at least no later than the start of act 2.

More reactivity for story developments after act 1, particularly in act 3 when it drops to little comments here or there.

More reactivity for Dark Urge story elements in particular, especially everything related to the Orin fight.

Ability to fast travel to quest-related markers.

Ability to hook up your companions. Let me smooch Halsin but hook up Karlach and Wyll, or let me romance Wyll while hooking up Halsin and Astarion!

Change point and click lines for characters to reflect story developments (resist Durge should sound less unhinged, Lae'zel shouldn't reference Vlaakith after turning away from her, etc)

Let your love interest answer questions about you during the love dryad test. You can select the right answers beforehand, and then they'll answer right or wrong depending on a bit of approval and a bit of luck/dice rolling. Halsin, of course, will automatically know you fear krakens.

Fighting Gortash at the coronation is actually an option that doesn't break the bridges and doesn't disable fast travel into Wyrm's Rock once he's defeated.

Give the gnomes the ability to fix Karlach's engine, or at least work on a prototype.

Option to speed up or entirely skip enemy turns, coming back to you and giving you a brief recap of who was hit and for how much damage/what status effects. This would make the courtyard, in particular, less of a slog. I should not be able to finish my turn, take a pee break, and come back to the enemies still attacking.

Ability to make it more clear what your relationship with Halsin is in a polymance- keep it as a one night stand/physical relationship, make it a poly romance with your other partner as your nesting partner, or even make it a throuple. Similarly, if the latter, add scenes of your partners getting to know each other better, kissing, etc.

Don't tie so many plot events to long rests while stressing that the player needs to hurry to avoid ceremorphosis. Either drop the facade that there is a rush, or make these plot developments happen outside of camp.

Consequences for using tadpoles beyond one (possibly two as of patch 7) dice rolls. Make it so using too many will cause you to squid, no matter what.

Ideally, bring back the plot that was teased in act 1, where instead of being the Emperor, you Dream Guardian was your tadpole, trying to seduce you to let it take over.

Better balancing for Rangers at higher levels, as as it is now, you basically have to multiclass them to get any decent use out of them. After level 5 any additional levels spent on Ranger are wasted.

Improve Eldritch Knight and Arcane Trickster to use the class's standard stat instead of int or wis for their spells.

All wildshape attacks minus three of the four myrmidons should count as unarmed for the purposes of tavern brawler and other similar things that buff unarmed attacks working.

Make the Emperor/Orpheus a fully autonomous party member, allowing you to give them equipment (and allowing them to use potions/spells they didn't already have on hand) during the final battle.

Fix pathfinding for characters you don't control, and especially fix them automatically jumping back to the other side of a gap just because you had to switch to a character who wouldn't make the jump before.

Improve Fly so that it is better than Jump outside of like 2-3 levels.

Some kind of enemy-rush mode where you see how long you can last against all the bosses in the game would be amazing.

Ability to either return to the city and finish up some quests before the epilogue.

New game plus.

Origin Halsin and Minthara.

The game does a better job of remembering that Halsin isn't tadpoled, and also does a better job of not always assuming that if you're in a poly relationship with him, you want the other partner prioritized for literally every scene.

Resist scene for Minthara and Halsin.

Recruitable Aylin and Isobel. Ideally, you can also romance them and become their third.

Dye preview, as well as clothing and armor previews.

Armor scales in weight with your size, so the same armor put on a small character will weigh less than the same armor on a large character, allowing little characters more options.

Druids automatically revert to human form for cutscenes, then return to wildshape after without losing a charge.

Orin can kidnap any character, including your romanced companion, but to compensate, there are less steps needed to access the Temple of Bhaal.

The kidnapped companion is not guaranteed to be unharmed even if you save them; depending on how long you took, they might have been badly tortured and receive a status debuff that lasts several days.

Faith-leap trial is fixed so that you can actually solve it without either a guide or cheesing it.

Let Wyll dump Mizora as a patron, then become an Archfey warlock with Thaniel and Oliver as his patrons. Wyll then becomes a nature defender.

More autonomy for Wyll in his quest. You can't make the pivotal choices of his story arc for him, and instead, your ability to convince him is tied to dice rolls that have a DC scaled to your approval, like for SH.

Able to take Scratch and Owlbear home in the epilogue, instead of only being able to send Owlbear with SH, Halsin, or you if romanced to either.

Let Karlach stay in the House of Hope if Hope lived, allowing her to live in Avernus without having to constantly fight and fear Zariel.

More interesting Speak With Animals conversations. They drop dramatically after act 1, and by act 3 there are very few times I use the spell anymore, just to talk to the kitties.

Able to cast certain spells (I.E. Hero's Feast) on all recruited characters, not just those in the active party.

54. Fix the morality system for Paladin oaths so that it's more clear what actions will break your oath ahead of time.

55. Give players more chances to fix things if a character turns temporarily hostile. I shouldn't lose a vendor, quest, etc for good because of a failed persuasion roll. There should be one more chance to fix it.

56. More deities for players to choose from; if not for Clerics, at least add more at the Stormshore Tabernacle. Ideally, allow even other classes to talk about having a favored deity, as most in the Realms do, and it would be interesting to, for example, be a Ranger, worship Mielikki, and have dialogue with Halsin, Jaheira, and Minsc.

57. Act 3 gets more unique music instead of largely reusing tunes from acts 1 and 2.

58. More companions so that every race and every class has representation.

59. Elves act more elven. Halsin and Astarion can have conversations in Elvish. Arnell is not confused by Shadowheart choosing her own name.

60. Free healing by Halsin. He is a world-renowned healer and would be great to see him use it more. Also, more shown of him researching medical conditions, helping sick/injured civilians in Baldur's Gate, etc.

61. The Shadow Curse breaks as soon as Ketheric dies or Thaniel and Oiver are reunited, whichever comes later, so the player can see the lands not influenced by the curse. Move the cutscene that plays on leaving the lands to this point, just without the bit of the party leaving the land.

62. Ability to save Art Cullagh so he won't die shortly after the game ends.

63. After you defend Halsin's portal, you get to play a side-quest where Halsin fights through the Shadowfell, finds Thaniel, and fights his way back. OR, you can delegate the portal defense to your other party members, and join Halsin in the Shadowfell to help him find Thaniel.

64. Introduce a weather system and a day/night system.

65. When you knock out a character using non-lethal attacks, the character is actually treated as alive, letting it be used outside of Minthara, Minsc, and Alfira.

66. Scene of Withers telling the players who he really is. Dark Urge players can become Withers' Chosen after they reject Bhaal, while Tav and non-Shadowheart Origins can be it from earlier on, maybe a scene early in act 2, and Shadowheart can be it after turning from Shar.

67. The Dark Urge's Urge manifests in battle, causing them to sometimes waste an action torturing a victim who's already been downed, or to turn hostile on allied characters.

68. More references to the Dark Urge being chronically ill as a result of their brain injury- this is brought up periodically in act 1 and then dropped for the most part. This could even lead to scenes of romanced characters comforting them when they have a headache or fainting spells.

69. More intra-party conflicts besides SH and Lae'zel, and the possible Halsin-Minthara ultimatum. Let the evil characters get angry at Gale for wasting magical items and try to kick him out.

70. Implement the Halsin-Minthara ultimatum, but don't make it an ultimatum; instead Halsin simply signals his intention to leave, and if you want him instead of Minthara, you bring up sending her away. Also make it clear that the Absolute still hunts Halsin for what happened in the Grove and for fighting Ketheric 100 years ago, showing that even without a tadpole, he has stakes in this too. Also make it clearer that Minthara is severely triggering his past trauma with all her pro-slavery talk, possibly causing him to gain a status debuff if he's near her. That way people will stop demonizing Halsin there will be more of a feeling of balance in the ultimatum.

71. Ability to rescue children (particularly the orphaned ones in act 3) and bring them back to camp for Halsin and/or Jaheira to mother.

72. When you're in the final battle, the companions who aren't fighting at your side are instead on a sidequest evacuating the city and fighting the midnflayers who are terrorizing the citizens. Alternatively, just for this one battle, you can bring all your recruited companions with you (it would certainly help make that courtyard fight more balanced if you aren't using invisibility potions).

73. Platonic paths get just as much weight as romantic ones. You can become Karlach's best friend forever and go on friendly outings with her. You can train with Lae'zel. Etc.

74. Setting for romance/sexual encoutners/offers to be turned off entirely.

75. Explorer difficulty allows you to multiclass still.

76. More quests for evil players.

77. Every romanceable character has at least one action that will cause them to break up with you, and every companion has one that will cause them to leave the party (outside of sinking approval to -40).

78. Option to turn on a "confirm action" button, so that accidentally clicking on an item in red that's right next to a communal use item doesn't get you aggro'd.

79. Optional choice to add in random encounters.

80. Reintroduce class-specific tadpole powers from Early Access.

81. Ability to help people in the city more; you can offer refugees shelter at your camp, feed or pay all beggars, etc. Telling the rich they suck for not helping is great but I want to be able to do more.

82. Sidequest for that Druid who's trying to save the dying tree in Baldur's Gate, ideally with special Halsin and Jaheira interactions.

83. More conversations like the one with Halsin and Jaheira in act 2, where controlling a character lets you talk to another and unlock special dialogues you don't otherwise get.

84. The circus is now a proper carnival, including magic-fueled rides, treatos, and a tunnel of love. Also, the Bhaalists are trying to interfere with the rides and get people killed, which you have to stop.

85. You have the option to tell owlbear cub that you don't want to give him the potion to make him grow faster because he deserves to stay a cub and grow naturally.

86. You can give companions little gifts, like SH with the night orchid. You can give Halsin his pipe back.

87. You can choose to join a companion in the endgame even if you haven't romanced them. You can move to Halsin's commune or keep Astarion company in the Underdark.

88. Ability to evict companions from your camp at any time, with a corresponding chewing out from the companions who stayed unless you have a really good reason for it.

89. Bring back the datamined bits where companions who left your party would later show up in the courtyard battle, tadpoled (if not already) and under the Absolute's control. (Maybe with a scene showing how it happened, including the tadpoling for Halsin and Jaheira who wouldn't have been infected before).

90. Bring back the datamined scenes from the morphic pool where the netherbrain would make the party have hallucinations corresponding to their insecurities. Including the option to comfort them after, especially your romanced partner.

91. Optional ability to cook meals yourself, maybe with a little cooking minigame like Pokemon has. Different foods can give you different status benefits the next day.

92. Ability to travel back to any act at any time before the final point of no return.

93. Act 1's point of no return is either entering the Underdark or the Mountain Pass, or entering the Shadow-Cursed Lands, but not either entering the Shadow-Cursed Lands from the Underdark or entering the Mountain Pass.

94. A gardening mechanic for edible plants and such would be fun, so you could have a steady supply of camp supplies and certain alchemy ingredients. Especially mushrooms since Minthara literally has her own mushroom farm.

95. Camp library so you can keep all your books, notes, and letters in one space to read without cluttering up your traveller's chest.

96. Alternatively, there are multiple traveller's chests for different items. Armors and weapons in one, scrolls, potions and other magical items in another, food and alchemy supplies in another, etc.

97. Ability to take care of and comfort characters who've been poisoned, infected with contagion, etc.

98. Let Halsin, SH, and the player cuddle more animals.

99. Every class gets a unique camp follower a la the Oathbreaker Knight.

100. Vendor of common things (animal speaking potions, some alchemy ingredients, camp supplies) in camp for the whole game.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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hwaightme · 2 years ago

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Come fly with me

✈️ pairing: pilot!yunho x gn!journalist!reader ✈️ genre: fluff, love at first sight, bit of angst, slice of life ✈️ summary: Aerophobia - the fear of flying. And clearly, something that your boss has no idea exists. While you curse the universe and the metal bird, your handsome seatmate ponders if it is possible to redirect this flight, from Gwangju, to your heart. ✈️ wordcount: 9.0k ✈️ warnings/tags: language, general cuteness, a lot of hand holding and stealing glances, panic/anxiety, aerophobia, discussion of past trauma, mention of grave injury (side character), you never really know what someone has been through ✈️ a/n: Hello!! Here is a lil one shot bc Yunho is renting out my brain. Thank you so much for your love and support, all reblogs, notes and asks welcome! Much love and big hugs (P.S.: not me reading FAA docs and flight handbooks lol)

The chances of dying in a plane crash are one in eleven million.

The odds of a plane crashing are one in one point two million.

Between the years twenty twelve and twenty sixteen, there was only a one in a one point three seven billion chance of dying in a commercial plane crash, and a one in twenty million chance of being on a commercial flight and experiencing a fatal accident.

But there were fatal accidents.

In those same years there were crashes where people died.

And what about those planes that disappeared?

What about the malfunctions?

What if something happens and two planes just fly into one another?

What if the wing breaks off?

What if one of the windows breaks?

What if something happens to the pilot?

What if everything on the plane just malfunctions?

Those odds… still not in my favour.

Damn this work trip.

And damn how packed it is.

Damn this window seat.

Right. By. The. Wing.

Damn that flappy shit on it that looks like something is about to break off.

Why do I have to keep this blind open goddamn it I am having a stressful enough time as is with the plane vibrating like a hungry beast.

Your mind was racing at the speed of light as you cursed your workplace over and over again for sending you on a business trip. On a plane. Of all modes of transport. The mode of transport that had a track record of making you ill, and one time made you faint. Actually, that had been the best flight of your life since you had been conked out for the most of it. No, this was the one mode of transport that seemed to be fine, but just as you would begin forgetting that planes equaled mass destruction, you would check your colleagues’ freshest news reports and once again, crash, burn, genocide.

It was not that you were a scaredy-cat, not by any means. You were a journalist, for fucks sake. You could handle pretty much anything thrown your way. Well, anything except planes. They were not a pseudo-activist who you could expose for not knowing what they were fighting for. They were not an official figure whose corruption you could bring to light. They were not a dog that you could interview for a fun ‘alternative news’ segment. They were a machine made to trap people for set periods of time, can them like sardines, pop their ear drums, and if all went well, regurgitate them on some other metal bird playground, and lie in wait until another bunch gets loaded up for a ride.

But of course, out of all the people in the office, including those who would kill to get out of Seoul and those who were basically known as the nomadic reporters, your boss had to appoint you to go on a three-day trip to Gwangju. The one person who almost exclusively worked in the capital. Who had no experience in working abroad. Hell, the one person who had literally refused to attend a social event because it was held in Busan and the travel plan included flying there. You were the antithesis to such trips, but your boss could not give less of a shit, apparently.

He even had the audacity to praise you in front of your colleagues and say you were ‘just the right person for the interview’ – all when the topic, and the professional background of the individual you were to be meeting, were so far out of your regular scope and within your nightmare space that no amount of reading would make you neither proficient, nor truly appreciative. You were convinced that the universe was out to get you. An alarming interpretation had crossed your mind – perhaps this was your boss wanting to find an excuse to fire you?

A new wave of panic settled in as you made feeble attempts to play a mental game of ‘whack-a-mole’ with your not so friendly musings. Why couldn’t you just exchange the tickets, take the train or a bus, or event drive there yourself? Why did you have to follow orders at your own expense? Just as you were beginning to transition from using familiar curse words to describe the situation to recalling anything and everything you had ever heard either in a foreign drama or in real life, you were gently stirred from the activity by a change in lighting.

You peered to your left – the culprit was a man, broad-shouldered, on the taller side, clad in a stylish sheepskin coat with a white turtleneck and some well-tailored trousers to match. You couldn’t quite see his face fully, but you guessed it would happen sooner than later, seeing as he was in the process of fitting his carry-on into the luggage compartment above where you were sat. Not wanting to intrude any further with your stares, you glanced away, instantly regretting it and exhaling sharply as your eyes were met with the metal wings of doom outside.

An airplanes wings are designed to flex up to ten degrees, and during the average flight the flex can reach up to seven degrees. The wings have been stress-tested time and time again so they cannot break off and the plane will stay balanced and-

But what about the Lockheed L-188 Electra II? What about the Lockheed C-141C Starlifter? Their wings just decided to go on holiday why can’t the wings of a commercial liner do the same? Oh, and the second one had a fuel leak – when do people check that? Did they check for this one? What if something happens and the fuel tank explodes?

“Would you be willing to switch seats by any chance?” a calming voice suddenly interrupted your nervous flow, and you snapped your head in its direction.

That man. Oh no, he was handsome. Dark hair, which was the tiniest bit tousled, kind eyes that you swore glinted at you, and a heart-stopping million-dollar smile. Now you had to keep up appearances too, to not seem like a total wuss, at least for the duration that you had to sit in this can. You heard his question loud and clear, but to allow your mind to process, you asked him to repeat with a quick:

“Sorry?”

He tilted his head and pointed towards the seat closest to him, “Ah, well, technically, this seat is mine, but… would you want to switch?”

Who was this man and why was he reading your ;mind? Was the universe pitying you finally?

“Yes, let’s do that!”

You shot up from your seat, nearly hitting the one in front of you, and slid out to give way to the brave soul who could look out of the window. As you two were settling down and he was giving you his thanks, you were not sure whether your heart was beating fast because of your fear of flying, or because of how you lucked out on your seat mate. Probably both.

It was hard to resist stealing a couple more glances at him while he was checking something on his phone. He had a reassuring aura about him and judging by how well-practiced his motions had been as he was settling in, he appeared to be quite a frequent flyer. He was so relaxed it made you envious. But you had no better way to get back to muting your phobias aside from absent-mindedly fishing out the airplane safety instructions manual from the pocket of the seat in front and reading it with the intensity of a final year student preparing for the KSAT.

You pored over the calls to fasten your seatbelt, to check that there was in fact, a life vest under your seat, to be prepared to pull on some random strings on an air mask if they were to be ‘made available’…

Abandon everything and run ‘in an organised manner’…

No high heels…

Someone probably would try to wear them still, even if we all had to go down that inflatable slide.

Slide down in the Dracula position…

You heard a chuckle to your right, and upon turning a little, you noticed your seatmate studying you, his lips threatening to curl into a grin. He looked you up and down, from the safety manual that you were now gripping a little bit too strongly, and finally locking eyes with you.

“Thought so.” he came to some cryptic conclusion, leaving you perplexed.

“Thought what?” you could not help but give into your curiosity.

“Aerophobia?”

“Is it that obvious?” you groaned and shut the manual to return it to the pocket. You felt as though you turned into a child who wanted to be taken more seriously, with your body refusing to suppress a slight pout. Yes, planes, for all their bird-imitating glory, were never going to be your wingmen. It was hard to ooze attractiveness when you were on the verge of having a mental breakdown.

“Well, there were some signs, but I only noticed them because I was paying attention,” before you could respond to the subtle flirtation, he continued by introducing himself, “I’m Jeong Yunho. Yunho is completely fine though.”

“L/N Y/N. Then Y/N is fine by me too. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. You might just be giving me a run for my money with those deduction skills!” You complimented him, delighted when you could elicit and even brighter smile. This flight was slowly but surely becoming a little bit more enjoyable thanks to the outgoing eye candy in the window seat.

“Are you an investigator, better yet, a special agent out on a mission?” he wiggled his eyebrows, further lightening the mood.

“I doubt I would ever be able to pull Brad Pitt-level stunts and board the plane in an unconventional manner like he did, but the mystery aspect is enticing. I’m a journalist and reporter.”

Something you could only describe as recognition flashed across his face as he clapped his hands together. By now, he had his body turned to the greatest extent possible towards you, his knees nearly touching your thighs. You had to admit, you were worried that a flight attendant would come and scold him, or that this would end up being a hazard during takeoff. But at the same time, the attention was a welcome relief.

“Oh wait! I have seen you before! You mainly cover local news, right? Or at least spanning Seoul Capital Area?”

“Funny to use ‘at least’ there, but yep, that’s me-”

“Your exposé on the fitness center money laundering scheme was amazing, it was like watching an action thriller.”

Well, that fell short. You giggled. Yunho was evidently trying to impress you by praising your work, but mixed things up right at the end. As you were still a junior, the times where you were allowed to as much as breathe in the direction of a live broadcast or even a pre-recording were few and far between. So far, you had only made a couple of appearances, and most definitely not in the crime segments – though you had indeed helped write the script.

“That’s not me. Close enough though. My mentor was the one on the screen.”

The utter confusion on his face spelled disaster for your composure, so you bit the inside of your cheek lightly, eyes sparkling. He covered his face with his hand out of embarrassment, and, once he had regained at least some of his courage, apologized, assuring you that your name did ring a bell and that he had heard it announced.

“Okay, I’ll give you that one. I was one of the writers.”

“Score! Otherwise, I really don’t know how I would be apologizing to you aside from buying you a drink.”

“Something tells me that you were a step away from messing up intentionally.”

“I wouldn’t do that on a short-haul.” Yunho was back to being his cheery self, his only distraction from you being the need to turn his phone on to airplane mode.

This action, meaningless on its own, but in context… left a sour taste in your mouth – a reminder that you were still in a tin can with planks glued onto either side, and that it was about to start grumbling and rumbling across to take off. You saw attendants start preparing for the safety announcement, making you retract into your seat and sigh. How you wished you were as carefree as this charming stranger.

“You know a bit about me, since you are so attentive, but I am intrigued as to who you are.” You inquired, trying to take your mind off what it considered to be imminent danger.

“I don’t want to spoil the fun! Give me a little taste of your own deduction skills.” He challenged playfully, though his tone revealed fleeting notes of concern.

You paused. You had already taken him to be a frequent flier, though for what reason was beyond you. You did not have enough experience racing through airports to be able to distinguish between different types of passengers. But what did stand out to you, was that comment about the reportage – the event that had been covered occurred within the Incheon Metropolitan City area, thus was presented through local branches only.

“You are in Incheon pretty frequently, right?”

“Terrifyingly accurate comment, but yes.” He confirmed while nodding. You felt proud of yourself for managing to have at least some of your skillset still intact.

“And what is bringing you to Gwangju? If it is okay to ask, of course.” You resumed your miniature interrogation, rushing as the announcement began to resound across the cabin, and a flight attendant was demonstrating how to put on the life vest, top up the air, where the emergency exits were… a flurry of information streaming right at you.

“Visiting my parents.” Yunho’s calmness had not changed a single bit since he had boarded the plane, and he was answering you in a level, measured out manner.

“Not during a standard holiday?”

“Here’s the hint: my line of work limits annual hours of… redacted for now.”

“That just makes me think you work abroad most of the time!” you exclaimed, recalling the shock you had when you had first entered the workforce and experience the full package of overtime, minimal breaks, and high demands. There was no guarantee that it was not the same in other countries, could even be worse, but as the old saying goes: ‘the grass is always greener on the other side’.

After he shook his head, shattering your theories, you fell quiet. Everyone had settled in their seats, and now information that was sending adrenaline to pump right through your veins was being shared. Even the demonstration of the flashlight on the vest was ominous. Once the routine had been completed, the rumble of the engines grew a little louder, and you were still making no move to return to the conversation, Yunho leaned over and exclaimed in a low voice:

“I’m a pilot. Indeed, am based in Incheon, and being abroad is very much part of the deal so I would say your logic was impeccable.”

“No wonder you look to be right at home.” You stated, albeit it came across as a little jealous. The air-mobile and your personal panic inducer began to demand more attention as it steered from the airport, leaving a still outstretched landing bridge behind.

“Maybe you are right. I do spend more time in planes than in Gwangju.”

“Sounds like the triangle between me, my apartment, and the office.” You concurred – at least locally the enforce workaholic culture was universal.

With your fingers, you tapped out an abstract rhythmic sequence with your fingers, then moving to feel for the position of the different buttons, side-eyeing them to make sure your seat, nor the electrics were broken. You were tempted to check if the seat could lean back but you were convinced that if you did that the world would collapse. Or at least you would be in trouble. As it turns out you had a flight law enforcement representative right next to you. A good-looking and so far, so sweet, but still.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you crack the Incheon bit?” he detracted you from your near scratching of the synthetic material, and you pressed your hands into your lap to supress their light tremor.

“Ah, you gave it away when you mentioned the news. That was only shown in Incheon.” You curtly responded, your concentration escaping you after you felt the metal bird jolt.

It was crystal clear to Yunho that your phobia was getting the better of you. After not having flown since at least a decade ago, each one of your senses was going into overdrive, screaming catastrophe. Your eyes were slightly widened, breathing becoming more shallow threatening to turn into hyperventilation, and, of course, you not knowing what to do with your hands (or really, yourself) sealed the deal. He needed to help you. Using whatever technique that came to him. And quick.

“Lightheaded?”

“Uh huh…” you could not deny it. That was just how it was. You, alone with your uncontrollable palpitations and a lump in your throat were on the verge of just control alt deleting your consciousness for take-off.

“Uhm… may I… wait, this might be very tactless, and you have every right to tell me to go- …wherever, but may I hold your hand?”

“What?” you snapped out of your thoughts and gaped at Yunho. What strange form of crisis-based moves-making was this? Or was he making fun of you? The engines were becoming almost deafening while you were still struggling to isolate your seatmate’s voice.

Even though he had not shown any signs of malice, you still expected the worst. Always did when it came to discussing travel, since the majority of your interactions often resulted in your conversation partner revealing some aggression-based schadenfreude. They were happy to pity you and diminish all of your other qualities just because you were scared of this one thing. But even though you were actively searching for any form of darkness, you could only find a caring soul, wholly preoccupied with your wellbeing.

“It is so you know that there is someone here with you. Just by feeling. Kind of like a grounding technique?”

“Oh, I would kill to be on the ground right now.” You twisted his words spiralling into dread.

“Sorry, I’d like to live another day, so you’ll have to bear with this. May I?”

Spooked by some noise from outside of the airplane, you did not dare raise your voice and instead resorted to nodding back your confirmation. As soon as you gave the sign, you felt his steady, warm and soothing hand tentatively touch yours, moving it a fraction and intertwining fingers until the palms were pressed together. Yunho gave yours a quick squeeze, as if in mute encouragement.

“This is so embarrassing...” you mumbled, shaking your head.

After the plane had come to a halt before the final turn onto the runway, you felt feverish, and overwhelmingly guilty. You had convinced yourself that you were ruining this wonderful man’s entire flight, by acting like such a child. And on top of this, he was a pilot, so if anyone had the right to consider you ridiculous it would be him.

“If it is the hand holding then I totally understand I can-”

“NO PLEASE THAT HELPS-” you yelped, practically yanking his hand back with yours and returning them to resting between you, “oops I said that too loud didn’t I…” this really was one moment of humiliation after another. Heat rose in your cheeks as you pondered whether it was too late to stop the plane or not.

“You should hear me scream on roller coasters. Now that’s loud.” He countered your insecurity, making you chuckle. You felt Yunho’s thumb brush over the back of your hand – it was not unpleasant. At all. “I must say, you are already doing really well.”

“Funny.”

“No, really.” Now, the engines were really starting up and you gripped Yunho’s hand a little tighter, this led to him making a split-second decision – a final resort. “But how about this. You close your eyes, okay?”

“What are you trying?” you raised an eyebrow, meeting his confident gaze with your own panicked one.

“Just, I know I am a stranger but, trust me for the next couple of minutes, okay?”

“Sure…” you did not have any of the forcefulness and pride left in you, so you quickly agreed and shut your eyes, but that led to you beginning to hyper fixate on the quietest, most insignificant of noises, blowing their impact out of proportion.

“Now, listen to my voice only.” Yunho instructed.

He was alarmingly close, almost right by your ear as he whispered:

“Let me guide you.”

Your heart fluttered, as you tried to push at least some thoughts to the back of your head, in order to focus on Yunho. This surely had to be one of the most original and thrilling ways you had ever been hit on. And terror-promoted-

Oh you had not even recounted the statistics for hijacking and for those types of attacks yet. How foolish of you! How were you going to remain safe if you did not have the likelihood of you perishing because of an air criminal or air pirate in the front of your mind!? You raked your brain for the 'fun facts' you had enjoyed reviewing last night, when Yunho cleared his throat and tapped your intertwined hands with his free one.

“Okay, so, first, let us set the scene. There is this neat thing called the Pilot’s Operating Handbook, which helps the pilot of a given aircraft determine whether it is safe to fly. And they would not do anything until all checks are done."

Where and what was the guarantee of that? You wanted to ask, too aware of the vibrations that were travelling from the floor of the cabin and turning into your jitters. But Yunho sounded so sure of what he was saying... damn it, he was using ethos-based marketing against you. What if he had lied about being a pilot?

"Also, the runway, the wind speed and direction, and a grand bunch of other things are all checked, one by one, to make sure that everything works as expected. You following me so far?” he informed, and paused to check up on you.

Yunho was using the opportunity to study you to the fullest. The little squint as you were fighting against the desire to shoot your eyes open and search for invisible troubles. The slightest hint of a pout etched on your rosy lips, signifying displeasure with your surroundings. He could not control his smile as he was admiring your battle spirit.

It was hard for Yunho to imagine you being as vulnerable as you were with him right now, due to sheer circumstance. Had anything been different, he might not have even had the chance to introduce himself to the beautiful stranger in what originally was the window seat.

“Yes but… what if something does not work?” as much as this experience was exposure therapy, in the moment, you did not give a shit and was sticking to your ways.

“That is not in the job description. And the engineers do a damn good job too. Just like you are now, okay, Y/N?” Yunho scolded softly but finished with more encouragement.

“I am so sorry again-”

“Nothing to be sorry about."

Of course, you would not know just how much you were reminding Yunho of himself in the distant past. How, when he had been a child, he was not able to even stay on airport grounds because of the noise, and the images that would flash in his head. He only hoped that for you it was a 'lighter' phobia, not stemming from true disaster.

"You know how the plane was just turning right now and making some noise?” Yunho cut his rumination short and returned to his miniature lecture.

“Yes.”

“Well, this is the pilot using rudder pedals, kind of like pedals in a car, pedals on a piano... whichever is closer to home for you, to steer the plane. Basically, we must make sure that the nose of the plane is well-aligned with the centre of the runway. And now, release of the brakes…”

Just as he said it, you could pick out a distinct change in the mechanical cacophony. You chuckled - it was like Yunho was conducting the actions of the beast.

“Now, do you hear this rise in sound? This rumble? Quite ominous, isn’t it? But it is just the pilot advancing the throttle gently to take off power, while keeping their feet on the rudder portions of the pedals and their eyes on the super cool engine instruments.”

He almost sounded like a technical kid getting a DIY kit for their birthday. The excitement in Yunho's voice did not falter as he continued to dive into more and more detail. Did you understand any of it? No. Was it more than pleasant to listen to Yunho having the time of his life explaining it? Yes.

“As the speed picks up, there is more pressure on the controls, but more specifically the rudder and elevator. Then we quickly transition to having the plane being flown more than it is taxied and having three axis manoeuvrability. What is really cool about commercial aviation, and pilots like the one flying this plane, is that we are actually able to feel plane controllability and are able to adjust pressures to make take off just right.”

The take-off procedure was being presented to you like a picture book. A straightforward scheme of a few steps, a celebration of a pilot's mastery. You daydreamed of how your seat mate would look like in the famous uniform, doing exactly what he was recounting to you.

“Okay so we are passing this stage now… and here we are approaching lift off. How we call the angle at which the plane takes off the ground is quite funny: the attitude. And after this… we are going to adjust the pitch just a little to make sure we get the best climbing rate.”

Yes, keep on talking this odd terminology that you were not even attempting to get a grasp on anymore. Probably would have been a good idea in light of your interview, but you could barely remain conscious as your inner world was experiencing high magnitude worry-quakes.

“Now, do you feel that? this is the pilot beginning to apply back-elevator pressure, and this is done to lift that little wheel at the front of the plane up. This is the attitude being created, we call it the rotation for lift off. Ah there it is now he is adjusting… adjusting… now the wings are being levelled, and the plane is remaining right on track, aligned with the centreline of the runway.”

Good for the plane. Good for the pilot. Good for Yunho. You just did not want to die. You squeezed Yunho's hand harder and harder, an action on which he did not comment. On the contrary, he resumed the soothing motion with his thumb that he had tried a bit of time ago.

“And now… we keep on going and… we are going steady.”

You eased off the grip, cringing at how forward, how ridiculous you likely seemed. It was hard to open your eyes back up again, so you took it slow. One eye. Then the next. You were still there. In the can. Which was now in the sky. Zooming across it at whatever speed. Yunho was still there. And still holding onto your hand.

Thanks to his guidance, you had not gone into a full-blown panic, nor had you passed out – an achievement really. But as you were regaining your senses, returning to a more neutral mode of worry, your need to show that you were an independent adult and did not require support returned, and you gingerly tried to remove yourself from his hold, as much as you wanted to stay in the same position for the duration of the flight.

Though Yunho allowed you to do so and waved off your numerous apologies. He was of the same mindset – the contact had been near electric, making this one of the more exciting of his flights. He would be lying if he said that the thought of finding an excuse to hold your hand again did not cross his mind. But he was drawn in even more by the contrast between the you from a few minutes ago and you who was boring holes in the seat in front, evidently counting seconds as you were measuring out your breathing. He was in awe of your perseverance, and how brave you had been to even book the tickets. To be in the cabin. To just, be there.

He was perplexed by why you were going to Gwangju by plane if you had a phobia. His own mother, over a decade after the life-changing incident his family had experienced, still had not gotten over it. Sometimes, looking at the racing clouds in the sky had caused her to tear up, and choose to spend the day shut indoors. Such was life. Even though his father was still alive, and had recovered for the most part, the fear of planes, the roar of the engine – a lethal predator, of flying like Icarus, too close to the sun, remained.

Flying was in his family. His grandfather, his father, him… had all committed themselves to the life of a pilot. And his younger brother, too, was in training. The lineage was to continue, despite the close brush with death that had nearly made Yunho’s father one with the world above. Prior to sustaining grave injuries, he had been a test pilot with a stellar reputation, and one successful flight after another. He was known for being able to land planes that had exhibited faults mid-flight, was able to tame high-speed jets that grew unstable, and was a gifted aerobatics master when he could unwind and choose a trusty steed for himself. His father was his role model. Regardless of what had happened.

It had been a freak accident. A miscalculation resulting in a catastrophe. Better yet, the company that had commissioned the testing had managed to keep the accident under wraps, and only after his mother near rioted and escalated the conflict to the local government and threatened to take it to the media, did his family receive compensation and as laughable charity, some physiotherapy courses. Nothing could compensate a broken heart of a person who had been told that they would not be able to do what they lived for anymore, however. Yunho was just a child then. But the fear that had had come to occupy his home was ageless.

It was not easy, living every day not sure whether his own father would be able to walk him to school. Play football with him. Stand together with him for a photo during a family trip. It was not easy on his mother, who had almost totally turned into a carer, splitting herself in pieces to raise two boys, to work, and to be her husband’s strength, both mentally and physically. Her sleepless nights, when Yunho had caught her bawling silently in the kitchen, trying to hide away from the rest of the family, had imprinted themselves in his mind.

The bitterness in his father’s words as he cursed everything related to the event, and the forlorn gazes he sent the awards, the books, the photographs in his office. Although he had been able to walk again, after years of forgetting the feeling, his meaning was only a memory. This was what had shaped Yunho’s initial impression of the world of flying. That it was a place of misery, hurt and false promises. He had vowed then to never, ever step onto a plane. Never once to approach an airport. Never once to give himself up to that dream that he had been born with. His personal ‘fear’ was not quite that. It was more the rage, the sense of injustice – why did it have to be his father? Out of spite he did not want to continue the dynasty.

His mother had been relieved when Yunho had announced at the dinner table that he wanted to be an engineer. And he made a pretty good job of convincing himself that this was what he really wanted. He had even gone to cram school for mathematics and physics and participated in some competitions. Not that he had ever felt purpose or found joy in it. He was just riding the wave of stability. And simultaneously cursing it.

As time for the national exams was fast approaching, and he needed to specify what kind of engineering he was going to do, he had been stumped. How could Yunho pick between a variety of subjects which he had virtually zero interest in, and pursued because of childhood trauma? So, he did what he could only call an act of desperation and approached his father for career advice. Yunho had assumed that the discussion was going to go nowhere. That his father, who had become a consultant and trainer (though permanently grounded), would only dismiss him and say something along the lines of ‘it did not matter anyways, everything could fall apart at any moment’. But surprisingly, he was responsive. Moreover, he had reminisced with Yunho about his early days, ones where he had not been sure what to do.

Then, he had posed Yunho a question: what was it that his heart wanted to pursue? If he were to forget everything, any and all external influence, what would he pick? After much deliberation, he peered at the poster of a Boeing-777 that hung across from him, and merely stated:

“Flying.”

After years of fooling himself. Running away from what his inner self was yearning for. Only this path seemed right. That night, his father and him had made a deal. To not disappoint his mother, and gain some basic understanding of aircraft, he was to pick aero-engineering, and in secret, simultaneously begin flight lessons. His father had activated his network, and once Yunho had gone through that first year, made a smooth transfer to become who he was now. A fully trained commercial airline pilot. True to himself, his dreams and his future.

When his mother had first found out, she was in hysterics. It was as though someone had brought the news to her that her son had passed away. Maybe that would have hurt less – less than the fear for what could happen, the anguish she would be experiencing every time Yunho would lift off. But he had made up his mind. And would indeed rather die than face the prospect of being anything else than a pilot. This was what he was made to do, and it felt right.

On the one hand, the reason why he wanted to help you was because he wanted others to feel the same way he did about flying. It had become his mission to bring comfort to passengers, to inspire future generations of pilots, and to share just how fun it could be. On the other, he had learned the hard way about what phobia and detestation was and could not bear to see you experience it. He had grown far too good at detecting its approach, so much so that he could live through it with you.

Maybe this was a strange way for him to cope and process his own life’s events, but it sure was damn near magical when he saw that he could take away at least a fraction of the weight you carried. After all there was only so much baggage you could bring on board with you.

Yunho’s heart was conflicted. When he had just boarded and got to his row, he had told himself that he lucked out, having an attractive seatmate and one who appeared to be as curious in him as he was in them. And now, he was almost feeling attached to you since he had helped you overcome the take off. It was inexplicable. A little irrational. But he wanted to talk to you. And to keep on holding your hand if you were okay with it.

When you considered yourself to be more or less recovered you sighed in relief. Having Yunho logically talk you through what you had labelled as horror film material had done what you thought was impossible – made you reconsider if planes really were as terrible as you thought. At least the ones where Yunho could be with you and chant plane speak over the screeches and groans of the engines and brakes. You turned your head a little and noticed Yunho watching the Earth transform through the window. He was leaning back and appeared to be deep in his mind palace. You tapped him lightly on his upper arm, which made all his attention come back to you.

“I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for helping me through this, really. You did not have to, Yunho, but you saved me just now.”

“Really, as I said, it is not a problem, Y/N.”

“But still. As you probably can tell, this really is nightmare fuel for me-”

“I am more than happy to continue, just so you know. If you need me, I am right here.” He offered, flustering you.

The sincerity of his words made you dwell on his desire to help. He was nothing short of respectful, but you felt that the story ran much deeper. Perhaps because he knew what it was like. But you were not about to force him into sharing all the potential skeletons and sprinklings of trauma, if anything it would make you appear ungrateful and downright prying. The atmosphere was just right for now, thanks to Yunho.

“You best be worried, because I might just pick you up on that offer, since I have a lot of revision to do before actually doing the job I was sent to do.” You answered, running a hand through your hair. You wondered whether you should use the rest of the flight to actually do some preparation for the interview or… the second option won out immediately, and you were back to enjoying Yunho’s company.

“Ah, so you are on the flight not by your own volition?”

“Yep. My boss is rather creative when it comes to picking out his entertainment.” His chuckle made a dopey grin appear on your face.

“And what do you mean by revision? Will you be joining the ranks?” he realised he barely knew anything about you aside from the odd mix of bare bone basics and auto-completed nonsense, courtesy of his imagination.

“Probably not, still need to sit as a passenger for a long, long time before that, you know, learn by observation!” you joked, attempting to conjure a vision of yourself as a pilot, but the irony of it was too much. “I am going to be doing a mini-documentary and interview with Hwang Taehyuk. He is a recently retired pilot with many accolades and, apparently, a very exciting professional life so-”

“This really keeps on getting better.”

“What keeps on getting better?”

“I had the chance to co-pilot with him a couple of times. Absolutely the most amazing guy on the planet. Total goofball too.”

“Why am I not surprised?” you threw the rhetorical question out into the air, but almost instantly continued, “You know, you are making me glad that I took this flight.”

“Like I said, if you need a plane nerd rundown of what’s going on at any point, just let me know and I can even draw some diagrams for you on a napkin.”

“Not just that, though now you promised me some diagrams and I do want to see them. It’s just, the beauty of how things have aligned. That makes me... quite happy.”

“Seconded.”

For the hour that it took to fly from Seoul to Gwangju, you were in deep discussion with your seatmate, turned acquaintance, turned to something that could not exactly be called a friend – an ‘interest’, rather. It was a process of progressive mutual discovery, stepping beyond first impressions and learning that, in fact, both of you only wanted to know more and more as the minutes and stories flew by.

Feverishly you shared your lives with one another, in a manner not dissimilar to that of someone retelling a missed episode to make sure that from then on, everyone would be moving forward together, at the same pace. You and Yunho explained your dreams, your hopes for the future, whilst inadvertently looking for, and finding similarities in them. You soared through conversation and landed being much closer than either of you could have predicted.

Everything was on the table – from embarrassing stories to going through each other’s camera rolls (under strict supervision, but that was a given). To prove to you that Yunho was truly a pilot and not just a plane nerd, he had shown you some photos of himself in uniform, zooming in to show you that the epaulettes were very much real and that he was earning his stripes. You commended his determination and had even taken an interest in how the career ladder functioned, but really what you could comprehend the best out of that discourse was that he chose the right job even if just for how handsome he looked in the attire. Yunho really was one of a kind, inside and out. He reminded you of a day in early spring, when the days were steadily growing longer, and the winter breeze finally departed, instead letting the budding leaves and blossoming beauties take over and instil a happier sense of tomorrow. He was the one to start to thaw your previously deadest perceptions and blood-curdling associations.

It went without saying that your fear of flying did not go without mention. A dreaded topic for you, you had initially tried to brush it under the table, but it was pointless to do before a person who had just seen you through take off, and for the duration of the flight sometimes paused your dialogue to check in with you. In addition, if he noticed your concentration drifting because of a foreign noise, or because of a little tilt or turn, every time Yunho would explain the reasoning behind it the best he could. Though it would take much longer to get over the phobia, his dedication made you swoon.

You had revealed to him that you had been diagnosed with aerophobia back in early primary school. It was genetic, with your father’s family line showing particularly strong symptoms – so any reunions were either planned with military precision, or simply did not happen, because Jeju Island was not so ‘all modes of transport’ -friendly. Back then, you had no idea how serious your condition could be, seeing as you were minimally exposed, but the times you were had been haunting you since. Your choice of work had not helped with your condition either, since you were constantly exposed to the worst locally, nationally, and globally. Though you had to be an objective messenger and remain unperturbed, aviation-related accidents often left you a whimpering, misty-eyed mess. At least you had become an expert in reading and responding to emails while your vision was blurry.

This was probably the first time ever that you had shared this aspect of you without either being interrupted or misunderstood. With Yunho, he listened carefully, and bewilderingly, drew parallels between your reality and his. It was obvious that he was holding back on some more upsetting facts out of care for how you would react, but you could figure out that his path to becoming a pilot had been on the bumpier side. He did end up drawing some free body diagrams for you and explaining the aerodynamics involved in a flight, lighting up every time you would ask him a question, or even when you would lean in, so your heads were almost touching, brows furrowed and processing.

Yunho had provided you with more anecdotes about the pilot you were going to interview, and even suggested that he could come along to introduce you – apparently the guy liked to keep his circle small and was not one to trust outsiders until they gained his respect. There was something surreal about being on the plane with Yunho – it made you believe that you two would last forever, and that what he was initially proposing, and then downright promising you to do, would really happen. Here was to be hoping that you would not part ways and at least be able to recognise one another in a crowd.

Landing went a little smoother for you than take off, perhaps because you had automatically searched for Yunho, and gingerly placed your hand on his lower arm. Too shy to do the same as before, you had remained in that position, focusing on the fabric of his coat. Meanwhile Yunho was frozen, like a person who had been chosen by a cat as the perfect napping spot. He remained close to your ear, once again whispering through the steps, though seeing your lowered anxiety, allowed himself to veer off the script a little more and crack a couple of jokes.

You left the plane as if you had been companions to begin with, checking if the other had left anything behind, chatting as you made your way across the jet bridge. Unlike the rest of the passengers who had decidedly become track and field athletes as soon as they were hit with airport air conditioning, Yunho and you moved slow, off to the side of the giant glass corridors, just so that time would not pass by you. For the first time, you were grateful that the line for passport control had gotten quite long by the time you reached it – all the more time to sneak glances at one another, kid around, and act like you had known each other forever. When you had reached the front of the line, the border control officer had even mistaken you as a couple and let you through together. Not that you would correct them.

Baggage claims. A time to reminisce, as it turned out. Standing side by side, you recollected each other's musings and theories as though you were revising, flipping through cards and supporting each try at a response with ripples of laughter. This was a plane that neither of you wanted to land, and kept on praying, repeating the same wish like a mantra: may this last.

If only this damn luggage could continue spinning forever, or would just be lost in the metal bird's belly. Somehow, life on the ground appeared to move faster than that high above. The hustle and bustle, people moving to and fro with their identities shoved into flimsy wheeled boxes, kept together by duct tape and overpriced cling film. Everyone had to have a plan. A destination. Up in the air, that could be removed. Troubles minimised for the duration of the flight. The only direction being to a random dot of choice, labelled as a city, town, base, important only because of plans that resume upon landing.

To Yunho, this was the biggest disillusionment he had experienced in his first flight. When he had been a little boy, he believed that everything radically changed after such a journey. That pilots were like wizards. But, as it turned out, he was only serving other people's plans. Just like this time, he was following a specific agenda. But you had made it colourful. Meaningful. The time suspended in mid-air well spent, and in need of a ‘to be continued’. As you made your way closer and closer to the airport exit, after having collected your belongings, he only had one thing on his mind. How could he prolong this metaphorical flight with you?

Without any prior agreement, nor any feat of telepathy, you and Yunho halted. It was time to part. Both you and him knew it, and yet neither of you were making the decisive move to do so. Instead, you chose to dawdle and stand, facing each other in the middle of Arrivals, luggage by your sides.

“Are you... going to be taking a taxi? Or is someone going to meet you?” he broke the silence with some small talk, while his heart was threatening to burst out of his chest – somewhat comical, now it was his turn to be panicked.

“I’ll catch a taxi. Yeah. And yourself?” You asked, not caring for the response, but for the prolongation of time that it brought. You were not looking forward to departing from this bliss between destinations. Back to rushing somewhere. Trying not to lose yourself amidst the events you had to pursue.

“Car rental.” Yunho swore he could hear turbine noise in his head as he was dashing from one idea to the next. Was he about to lose you?

“That’s neat.” You kicked the air with your foot, and stuffed your hands into your pockets, readying yourself for an unwanted goodbye.

You raised your head and faced him. Two people, fumbling for a way to stay like this. Were both of you waiting for some divine intervention? For a third person, a passive observer to suddenly step in and give you a friendly nudge? All the signs were pointing to a sure-fire success, and yet hesitation, doubt and insecurity remained as the devil on both your shoulders. Perhaps this was not meant to be, and you merely served one another as a time passer, a cure for boredom, and eventually destined to bid your farewells. Your lips parted, and you inhaled, about to say the dreaded words, when-

“I can drive you.”

“Huh?”

“If you want.”

He officially short-circuited as he could not wait any longer. Had Yunho been a poet or a writer, hell, maybe even if he had stayed an engineer, he could have come up with something more impressive, but at the end of the day, the message would be the same. Let’s go together. Let’s go anywhere together. Come fly with me.

Now, it was one thing to hope, and a wholly different one to expect, and you sure as hell had not been doing the latter. So, when Yunho took the leap and reached out to you, and to your future self, you needed to take a moment to internally squeal. And then try your best to keep it cool and answer like a proper adult, rather than the inner giddy schoolchild who was on their umpteenth celebratory somersault.

“I would want that. But aren’t your parents waiting for you?” your response was light and breezy, and an attempt to showcase, once again, that you had paid attention to him and could recall why he was here in the first place.

“Well, I mean, I don’t usually do this… but if you are into meeting parents so early…”

“Oh, come on!” you giggled, playfully hitting Yunho’s upper arm as he grinned wide.

“Totally serious, Y/N, I am totally serious.” He responded, sarcasm dripping from his words.

He pointed in the direction of the car rentals and took the small suitcase you had brought with you in his free hand. Ever the gentleman.

“And if you are free at any point, I would love to show you around.” He continued as you ambled on, barely any space between you.

“As long as it is by foot or car, I am free today and tomorrow afternoon.”

“I wish I had the car from Back to The Future so that I could impress you with my piloting skills, alas, I’ll have to disappoint you with… are they advertising new Kia models? Y/N, not all is lost!”

“Now to figure out which one looks most like a Yunho-mobile.”

“We’ll figure it out, take an online test that matches MBTI to a car or something.”

“Don’t tempt me, or I might actually do that.” You warned in jest and proceeded to take out your phone to make a point. This seemed to have an effect on Yunho, as he stopped abruptly and began searching for his own device.

“Oh! That reminds me! Your five-star guarantee Uber driver would like to have your number. You know, for announcing his arrival, of course.” As you typed in your digits, and then proceeded to save his number on your phone after he had texted you a string of airplane emojis you ideated out loud:

“I can already see the review I shall write: car may or may not take off and grow wings during journey. Passenger discretion is advised."

“If that’s the case, I’d be more than happy to hold your hand again, or maybe something more serious to protect against turbulence?” he winked, and you felt heat rising to your cheeks.

“I think I’ll have to write a piece about your methods.”

“Just make sure to mention that they are exclusive to Jeong Yunho, your private pilot,” well that was an original, yet explicit expression of interest, “and speaking of reporting, I am taking you to teacher Hwang’s for some proper networking.”

“Yeah, and what about my crew?”

“Pilots are no strangers to crews, trust me on that.” he answered promptly.

“I can imagine.”

You and Yunho stood still, eyes locked. Your 'spring' ahead of you.

“Now, shall we be off?” he gestured towards the rentals office, but not removing his gaze.

“Go on ahead, be my guide.”

Given half a billion potential soul mates, your chance of finding your true love is one in 10,000.

1 in 50 airplane passengers meet the love of their life on board an aircraft.

And when it came to you and Yunho, the probability was simply 1. 100%. No other way.

Perhaps it was a good thing that you were scared of flying.

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meowzilla93 · 1 year ago

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Fancy meeting you here! Baxter in the five years after Step 4 please!!!

We both love this man to bits and pieces, but we are also realistic

This is a jumble of my thoughts put to paper, it may not be in order but it still all matters!

ALERT: I had so much to say I needed to split this into two posts cause i maxed the character limit......

Long distance relationships are hard work, no one said this was going to be easy

The two of you are making sure to keep up that hard work, keeping up the contact, looking after each other even with the many miles between you, and supporting each other

Thing is, Baxter only has two modes – 0 or 100.

He wasn’t kidding when he said he would text you multiple times a day when you first left, because this man really did

Asking about your day, hoping you are doing well, sending confidence boosting messages, the works

If this is something you love then its all fine!

But if this is a bit much for you, or your work really cant have you being distracted multiple times day, a chat will be needed

He understands, he is a little bashful that his actioned cause this convo but he understands

Idiot he is though, pulls back a touch too much and ends up messaging maybe once a day or once ever few days

You are going to need to teach him what it means to run at 50

And over time he will understand, he just needs that patience and understanding and OPEN COMMUNICATION!!!

You alternate visits with each other, trying to do it as often as work is possible but sometimes work does get in the way and it can be months before you see each other face to face again

You are REQUIRED to be prepared to be wrapped up in a Baxter Burrito TM as soon as he sees you and you are not going anywhere for the next 24-48 business hours

I have said it before, this mans love language is physical touch, and he is clingy

He almost puts Cove to shame with how clingy he is

Being together makes him realise a lot of things about himself, and that he needs to work on some trauma that he has from his childhood, and with your support starts seeing a psychologist

The changes are slow but steady; He might not realise it himself at first, but with the activities that the psychologist recommend he do, and learning how to channel his emotions correctly, you certainly do

And you couldn’t be more proud of him! Make sure you let him know!

He is the one to drop the ‘I love you’ bomb first

It just happened, he wasn’t thinking about anything specific, it wasn’t planned

He is simply cuddled up to you, on the couch talking nonsense with a glass of wine each

You had just finished laughing at one of his ridiculous stories, and he was just staring at you as you did with hearts in his eyes

As you wipe the tears from your eyes from laughter, he moves in close, kisses your temple and with a hum, just says those three little words

He doesn’t realise it at first; You froze and slowly turned to look at him

Suddenly the gears click and WHOOF he goes bright red

But he doesn’t take it back, he just looks anywhere else but you, unable to deal with what he did, but refusing to deny it

Please put him out of his misery and say it back, or kiss his first to relax him a touch and then say it

Those dimples of his have never looked sweeter than in that moment

Its been a year, and he really wants to see you more, but you both live so far away from each other

You both have careers in your cities and he refuses to pull you away from your success

Because of this, he is very hesitant to ask you to move in with him, or even vice versa

6 months down the track, you are at his apartment again but it’s the final night you are with him

He is in such a state, its winter, he doesn’t want to let you go home and knows it’ll be a probably a few months before he sees you again because he worries about travelling conditions and wants you to be safe

As you are cuddling in bed, he holds you with such a firm grip, like he is so afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go

Whilst in that Baxter Burrito TM, he whispers gently into your shoulder “Please stay…”

He thinks it was quiet enough that you wont hear, or that you’ve fallen asleep

But you heard it

Gently you turn around, he thinks you are just getting comfortable and you look him in the eyes

MC “Ask me Baxter.”

Baxter “What?”

MC “Ask me.”

You can see all the emotions run a race in his eyes as he realises that you are asking of him

Cupping your face, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb he asks again, without whispering

“Stay with me.”

“Next time, I will stay.”

Elated is a far too gentle word to explain his emotion but you can guarantee he is over the moon with joy

It takes time to organise the move, after all you both had your own separate lives and now you need to figure out how to merge the two together, but you make it work

Moving jobs is also something that needs to be considered, but if you work remotely, it doesn’t even really matter

It takes around 4-6 months to sort out the move with all the moving pieces, but you two are finally together, for good

Baxter loves to dance, and having you around more means he gets to indulge in his love two fold and tries to do it as often as he can

Are you a good dancer too? If you suggest to him to join an amateurs comp, he is ecstatic! He hasn’t choreographed in years and he gets a chance to use that skill once again

If you just prefer it being the two of you, he is more than happy to keep at that, dancing in the living area, the kitchen, shower, bedroom….

He is a plant guy

You can take this headcannon from my cold dead hands

He loves being able to water them and tend to them and they just add colour to his place and warmth

It becomes one of his favourite hobbies

Be careful as this means you will need to keep an eye out for any new plants he snuck into your home

If you have a pet he is very careful to ensure that he only has plants that are pet friendly

Oh he for sure has a little corner dedicated to pure black plants, how could he not

The next year flies buy with little issue

Oh there where teething issues living with each other for certain, but you both learnt how to talk with each other so that it didn’t turn into an argument

Boundaries were set and honoured and life couldn’t be easier

He starts being a touch more nostalgic about his childhood; He has managed to make some wonderful friends and kept those relationships up but he cant help but think about the friends he left behind in Golden Grove

PART TWO WILL BE REBLOGGED WITH THIS ASK!!!

#our life beginnings and always #baxter ward #olba #our life #olba baxter #olba mc #baxter x mc #our life headcannons #meow asks!

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disastertwins9000 · 2 years ago

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So I made an AU…

Multiverse AU: 2012/rottmnt crossover

Name: HOMIES IN A HALF-SHELL

After season five of the 2012 tmnt:

The boys continue to live life and protect New York, (I am a firm believer that the mutant apocalypse is a possible alternate future that doesn’t end up happening or else how tf would Renet be a thing?)

The 2012 Turtle Boys get to keep the dimension traveler from the 87 turtles and use it to check out other dimensions, then eventually meeting the 2018 boys and deciding to chill with them. The rottmnt boys are still settling from post movie events, and are thrilled to meet older wiser much more scarred versions of themselves and are eager to learn from them. Rise!Splinter ofc goes full papa mode on the tired/traumatized 12-boys and the Rise!fam is pumped to have four new older bros. You can also imagine the 12fam getting protective af of these colorful happy children they’ve now adopted. -ill post my hc’s and more specific info later-

Basically just a bunch of silly turtles interacting and living life, because I want to draw them together<3

absolutely never EVER NEVER any TCEST- this is familial love, so take that nasty stuff somewhere else.

MASTERPOST

search HOMIES IN A HALF-SHELL AU in my tags for more<3

my twin @purpledisastertwin900 helped me with this idea go follow them

#rottmnt & 2012 crossover #rottmnt #2012 tmnt #my artwork #tmnt fanart #disastertwins9000art #HOMIES IN A HALF-SHELL AU #rise of the tmnt #tmnt 2012 #homieswelcome

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lilianade-comics · 1 year ago

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How do you think show!Vlad would respond to your AU!Vlad who actually chose to raise Dani? I’m thinking he’d be jealous but in denial about it, though not subtle about probing for details. Like he’d capture the AU!Dani and scoff about the relationship but also kind of indirectly ask for how it works/how it happened. Probably through insults.

He’d def be annoyed that Danny has a slightly less antagonistic relationship with AU!Vlad, though. And AU!Vlad would probably be in full villain mode to subconsciously prove to his alternate self that he’s no less badass, or driven. In my mind.

Thoughts?

I think any interaction between the two Vlads would consist of them both acting superior (AU Vlad like "Oh, you had a Danielle and threw her away? I didn't know there was a version of me with brain damage..." (as if my AU Vlad wasn't planning do the exact same thing before I, the writer, said "no", but in no universe is Vlad self aware) and Canon Vlad through his teeth is like "Maybe I simply have higher standards~") but canon Vlad definitely has a heaping helping of jealousy on top. Like, he doesn't really get why AU Vlad got attached to an inferior clone, but he can see that he's happy on some level, and that is incredibly frustrating to him, because they're otherwise identical and why does HE get to be happy?

The concept of a proper canon Vlad vs. "loves Dani" Vlad boss fight is one that will probably get explored in another AU that I haven't posted about yet! (Spoilers: it features time travel and younger Vlad deciding to kick his older counterpart's ass, because young Vlad didn't suffer alone for years just so his older self could throw away the best thing that ever happened to them)

#danny phantom #asks #cheese melt

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koorinokujira · 9 months ago

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Logs from the OC Database: Sunrise ( TF IDW1)

(Finally decided to make a little introduction post for my main Transformers OC, Sunrise. This will most likely get updated often as I keep reading the IDW comics and learn new information).

The lovely art below is made by the amazing @the-prince-of-vos, aka Akkalis! Thank you again for bringing him to life!

"No matter how far I travel from it, Earth will always be my first and only home. After all, home is where the spark is, eh?"

Bright, loud, cheerful, and so energetic that it causes concern; those are just a few ways that the Autobots have described one of their newest additions to the faction. This friendly, large mech is sure to steal your attention with his cheeky personality, unapologetic love for the things and people he's fond of, along with the desire to do good, no matter how impossible it gets. A skilled fighter with a fondness for learning new things, Sunrise is definitely someone you call when you need a helping hand, or just a friend to talk to.

Names, Nicknames, Designations...

"Sunrise is the name, and brightening up your day is my game!"

Sunrise was a name chosen by himself, shortly after his unceremonious crashlanding to Earth. While it was mostly the natural phenomenon itself along with the color of his frame that inspired the designation, it is also a reference to his late predecessor and doctor, Sunset, and the small sliver of hope he felt that he refused to lose. It holds great significance to him, and he is more than determined to live up to it.

In the past, he was referred to as Aeroflare, or simply "Patient Zero", as he was the first (and only) documented case of a condition simply referred to as an "Acute Partial Spark Disconnect". While he doesn't actively use either of these (the second one for very obvious reasons), some Cybertronians know him as such thanks to the aformentioned Sunset and his Conjunx, Cloudwave, who took care of the unresponsive Sunrise. The name "Aeroflare" was created so they'd have a better way of referring to him.

As for nicknames, those tend to be either shortened or slightly altered versions of his name (Sun, Sunny, etc.). However, some humans have also likened his appearance to that of a moth because of his headshape, finials and the way he folds his wings. Variations of nicknames that include the insect aren't too uncommon thanks to that.

Important Physical Attributes

"You know... I worry about the humans sometimes. I'm pretty good at moving around them, but... what if I step on one on accident?"

Discounting his finials, Sunrise is around 36 feet (10.97 meters) tall. While his exact weight is unknown, he seems to be on the heavier side, despite being a jet. His bulkier, sturdier build easily supports his weight. The main color of his frame is a warm orange, with red, black, and sometimes even yellow/gold as his secondary colors. His face is mainly a lighter, metallic grey, with the sides being a grey-ish white. His optics seem to have a color somewhere between yellow and orange, and are particularly bright in comparison to some other Cybertronians.

Sunrise's alternate mode is based on a Canadair CL-415 plane, which is designed for aerial firefighting. Of course, his altmode is quite a bit smaller than the regular plane (which has the length of rougly 65 ft/19.81 m and a wingspan of rougly 94 ft/28.65 m), so the length of his altmode is almost 36 feet with a wingspan of around 52 ft (15.84 m). So, not as big, but forest fires still cower before him!

As for his weaponry, he prefers to get up close and personal, which tends to mean a blade or two. He eventually gets an inset blade in his right arm. But his firepower is nothing to scoff at, either, as his most used weapons are two massive energy cannons. Those are separate from his body unless he is in his altmode, however. In that case, they tend to take up some space in the compartment where the plane stores water. More often than not, his servos are also an effective weapon because of his large size.

Sunrise's spark is of a bright orange color, which occasionally seems to fade into red or blue.

His holoform is that of a young, tall man with freckled skin and wavy, fiery red hair. His eyes have a very light brown, almost orange color. His physique is nothing short of impressive, and even appears to have some tattoos and scars. Sunglasses are an often used accesorry.

Oddities and Anomalies

"Me? Oh, c'mon! I'm just a regular guy. Or mech? Ah, doesn't matter. Just don't treat me like I'm something special or awesome. Others deserve that more than me."

While Sunrise seems like a fairly regular (albeit tall) mech, many of his fellow Autobots very quickly found out that he's anything but ordinary. After some time of debating, Ratchet eventually classified him as an outlier. Everyone, including Sunrise himself, is still struggling to make sense of how his abilities make sense and come together. Most of them seem to have to do something with the spark itself. These are anomalies that have been verified to happen at least once:

Extreme stamina: While he is not that much stronger than his comrades, everyone will tell you that he can do everything for much longer than anyone else. He does need to refuel more often, but his body seems to distribute it with almost concerning effectiveness. His recharges are short and rare. And as any medic in his vicinity quickly finds out, he doesn't seem to realize when he's tired, either, which tends to result in him collapsing every few days (and sometimes even longer than that) in the middle of whatever he's doing. It has been debated whether this is an actual outlier ability, or some strange side effect of the Acute Spark Disconnect, or the current lack thereof.

Spark-hearing: Sunrise's hearing is already extremely good (purely through meddling with his audials and processors), but this ability is something completely different. It is a type of hearing focused purely on sparks; as he himself puts it, every spark has its own unique rhythm that can tell you a few things about its owner, and he insists he can hear it even without the use of any external tools. This was already a bit strange, but it got all the stranger when he admitted that from Optimus' Prime he not only hears a beat, but a melody as well. A short experiment proved that even when he was deprived of regular hearing, he could still hear sparkbeats of others around him with incredible accuracy. He never really divulges what exactly the rhythm tells him, but he has been known to be more perceptive to the moods of others, and many internal ailments have also been discovered when he noticed that someone's spark beats "wrong".

Spark-meld: So far, there has (luckily) only been one instance of this happening. An occassion where Sunrise's spark completely melded with two others despite a ridiculous distance between them. This essentially allowed him to "be" those other two mechs, as he heard, saw and felt all they did, and he even had access to their memories. It was, of course, an overwhelming and traumatizing affair that he had zero control over, and whenever he speaks about it, he insists that he wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy.

Faction and Role

"Mhm, I'm a proud Autobot! Whatever that means..."

Sunrise is an Autobot, though he could have been counted as neutral for a few years. He takes loyalty to his allies incredibly seriously, but he doesn't mind extending a friendly hand to a Decepticon that wishes to redeem themselves. He's quite disconnected from the entire conflict, and has been known to abide by a certain moral and honor code (such as not killing an opponent who cannot fight back).

As for his role in the faction, he is somewhat of a universal helper. He doesn't mind doing menial tasks if it means everything runs smoothly, and often goes around asking others whether they need help with something. He's an avid learner, so he slowly becomes a jack of all trades over the years, with a bit more focus on medical support as Ratchet teaches him how to help others. He's also unanimously considered to be a morale booster, as he's a great listener and his positivity is infectious to most.

Personality

"Well 'course I'm all happy and smiley! I'm not named after the Sun for nothing!"

On the outside, Sunrise is a bright, happy-go-lucky mech that often acts before he thinks. Boisterous and sometimes even a bit mischievous, he unapologetically goes through life doing whatever makes him the happiest. He's a friendly chatterbox, and every room is full of him once he enters. While he is a tad annoying to some, most don't say anything, as he's too endearing to interrupt while he speaks. However, this also often has the effect of some thinking he's a mech of the... simpler variety, and that he's very naive, which he most certainly isn't.

However, this bright exterior hides many complexeties, many of which aren't exactly happy ones. He often feels disconnected from his fellow Cybertronians and the entirety of their conflicts, leaving him feeling left out and lonely. Thanks to his previous ailments, he has missed much, and so he struggles to keep up with his peers. He rarely shows it, but his self-esteem is quite low and he tends to put others miles above himself. His ability to express negative emotions is also not the greatest, which he usually resolves by walking out of the conflict and losing himself in one physical activity or another. As more and more fellow Autobots come to him with their troubles, he feels trapped and a need to constantly appear strong, until he finally reaches a breaking point.

Some traumas have left him with some underlying feelings of paranoia, and he often needs guidance because he feels lost. Anger issues have been a problem in the past, not so much now.

Interests

"Did you know-"

If you ask Sunrise about what he likes the most, he'll probably pretend he's thinking for a few seconds, before he excitedly yells out "Earth!" or "Humans"! If it's related to our dear blue planet, he'll adore it, or at least be interested. He finds humans to be extremely adorable, even after years of living among them, and will talk your audial (or ear, if you have those) off about this or that human culture, or express his admiration for their inventiveness.

But his interests don't just stop with humans, as he's really into learning about nature, particularly animals. Nature documentaries are his favorite genre of film, and Sir David Attenborough may as well be a saint to him. His favorite books are sappy romances and he mostly likes upbeat, energetic music genres. The only exception are chansons, which have a calming effect on him.

He's also always interested in learning more about the home planet he never really got to know, and talking with older Cybertronians about what they've seen.

Tinkering with whatever he gets his hands on is therapeutic to him. It only becomes concerning when he learns more of Cybertronian anatomy and tries to give himself strange upgrades...

Relationships

"Hi there! No need to be scared, I'm harmless, just really big! Wanna be friends?"

The jet makes a point to always start out friendly and respectful when meeting someone, and to not judge a book by its cover. He considers all Autobots to be his friends, and tries to give a chance even to some Decepticons when they seem harmless.

He has a talent for awakening something akin to paternal instincts in most older mechs, which often causes humorous misunderstandings and someone always being there to try to teach him about this and that. This effect was always particularly strong with Ironhide, Kup, and even Ratchet to some extent, as he feels responsible for his wellbeing.

Sunrise is quite close with Optimus Prime and Ratchet and trusts them with everything. Hot Rod and Jazz are always welcome company to him, and he later also becomes good friends with Drift, with an extended friendliness and respect to the other Wreckers.

His relationship with Ultra Magnus is cordial, though it can't be said they're the best of friends considering Sunrise's ignorance of most laws and tendency for harmless mischief.

The only Autobot Sunrise has a fairly bad relationship with is Prowl. At the start, the both genuinely despise each other, until Sunrise lets it go and is satisfied with driving Prowl up to wall with his antics and witty banter. No one really knows where they stand in their relationship currently, and everyone is too afraid to ask.

An important part of Sunrise's inner circle is also a very unlikely friend; a troubled Decepticon seeker named Dustbite, with whom he forms an unlikely friendship based on them both sparing each other's lives. With mutual respect and understanding, their bond eventually becomes so deep that they become each other's Amica Endurae.

As for who he cares more than just a friend... well, only time will tell.

Other Fun Facts

When it comes to the chansons, Sunrise's favorite singer is Jacques Brel.

He himself is a fairly talented singer, though he mostly just hums to himself.

Sunrise's Cybertronian somehow has a vaguely Canadian accent.

He speaks Hand very fluently and uses it to express himself when speaking is difficult.

Even though he seems very innocent, the mech swears like a sailor when he can, even making horrible amalgamation of human and Cybertronian swear words and insults.

He dislikes Primus, blaming him for his previous illness.

Later on, he becomes a good friend and "calming agent" to Fortress Maximus.

He uses his (usual) enhanced hearing to check malfunctions in all sorts of machinery, including cables running through walls. However, he still struggles to find an appropriate way to announce it. "I hear it in the walls" is not something he should say to alert someone of a fried cable, he's been told.

His optics can get blindingly bright when he's very happy. On the other hand, they grow dim when he's feeling under the weather.

His voice claim is Canadian actor Ryan Reynolds.

Story/Story Involvement

(Empty for now... but some short scenes and chapters from his life will hopefully come soon).

#i think about him all the time every day #is he kind of a mary sue? yeah #but dang if he's not a fun dude to write about #i am cringe but i am free and whatnot #hope y'all like my big man #transformers #transformers oc #transformers original character #tf idw #tf idw1 #tf oc #maccadam #transformers art #icywhaleocs

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fantasy-mixtapes · 9 months ago

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Riz Gukgak Junior Year Playlist: side A

Heres the first side of the Junior Year Riz Playlist and the explanations down below, Spoilers for Episodes 1-10 in FHJY

Genres: Alternative, Anti Folk, Math Rock, Punk

1. Photosynthesis, They Might Be Giants

Photosynthesis does not involve a camera Or a synthesizer Although that's interesting, too Photosynthesis is how plants take in light From the sun and turn it into energy It's actually a thing on which most life depends Here on the planet Earth

GOD so when I'm not making these playlists I'm and environmental educator and when Brian was like "we're the photosythe-KIDS!" i nearly lost it. Gotta let this little nerdy kid have at least one nerd song as a treat to me

2. Dissonance, AJJ

My feet planted in different realities I've been doing lots of parallel planning and asking Does morals exist anymore? Wondering if society's all broken down yet I should probably know I should probably know I should probably grow some more plants in the window I should probably try I should probably try I should probably try to find a cure for this dissonance

One of the things I relate to Riz about the most is the way in which he is so hungry for explanation and, specifically problem solving. When they get dropped right back into normal teen life after having just saved the world and "cracked the case", Riz had to really switch into school mode fast (with the whole paying for college thing)

3. Stress, Jim's Big Ego

I'm addicted to stress That's the way that I get things done If I'm not under pressure then I sleep too long And I hang around like a bum I think I'm going nowhere, and that makes me nervous Everybody's out to get me, but I feel all right

Obsessed with the way that, if Brennan didn't let Riz take on the stress of other people in the party, he would literally be so normal about the downtime system. God help him and his nervous system.

4. Travelers Insurance, Their/They're/There

After all that we've done, You still skipped out on the beat of a different drum. Blurring the lines between failure and fortune

it's getting at Riz supporting so many people in his party, taking on their stress, organizing their extracurriculars, and literally tutoring them on subjects he doesn't know about. And they're definitely trying to keep everything under control, but sometimes it feels like when they mess up or make bad choices, it's Riz who has to take the L

5. Pitch Black, Heart Attack Man

Rock bottom smile bares its rotting teeth again Acts like there's nothing wrong and they're still my closest friend Romanticize the fondest memories and good times And hope that I forget the rest Rock bottom's grinning as it's creeping up again Dust off the depths and make me wish that I was dead again Hold out your hand to me Take me to a place in hell where Having self-esteem seems selfish and unhealthy

God the way that in Ep. 10 after Riz had that talk with his mom about everything he was just so despondent the rest of the episode about everything that was happening, and actually thinking about the toll his friendships were taking on him 💀

6. An Antidote for Strychnine, The Mountain Goats

Dig down amongst my calculations Check my maps Up there on the surface Everybody's gettin' ready for the bloodbath Stem the tide, stem the tide They're calling down for reinforcements Tryin' to find An antidote for strychnine Tryin' to find An antidote for strychnine

This has always and forever been such a Riz song for me and I feel like it really fits the tone of Riz looking into the soil, into lucy's death, into eventually the loam farm, reluctantly telling his mom about it. The moment when he thinks that something like what happened to Yolanda could happen to his mother and he gets really serious about it. AHHHHHH Something something isolation, something something taking on dangerous tasks by yourself just to protect the ones you love

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #d20 #d20 fhsy #fantasy mixtapes #riz the ball gukgak #riz gukgak #brian murphy #fhjy spoilers #d20 spoilers #fantasy high spoilers #Spotify

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faislittlewhiteraven · 8 months ago

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Undertale/ISaT crossover thoughts 2

Been thinking more about this despite trying to vent out all my thoughts in this previous post and now I have something of a plot I figured I'd share (in case anyone else would like a stab at it/some ideas for their own Undertale/ISaT crossover fanworks).

Story opens with a time looping Chara in the void hitting their breaking point. The wish for freedom from generations of monsters + their own alternating wishes to free their family and hurt the humans who hurt them equals a loop that begins with their incredibly painful death to buttercup induced internal blistering, and ends whenever Asriel (post absorbing Chara's soul) is killed or they 'fail to punish' Chara's human family and well. Chara doesn't know the rules so the two have them have been looping so long that now when they reach the village of humans by Mt Ebott, instead of the friendliness they were shown in early loops (before getting murdered by the official authorities who 'already have orders on how to treat monsters') the villagers now attack them on sight in terror (sobbing monster thing? Sadness!), and they keep dying over and over and over-

Basically full 'Start Again a prologue' vibes, and so Chara in full please just make it stop mode wishes to the Universe...

For everything that hurt them and monsters to be forgotten like a bad dream! (cue The Island, Sif and Chara's homeland, as well as certain nasty individuals like Chara's human 'family' being erased from memory)

For someone kinder, stronger, and untainted by hate to 'be the angel' to free the monsters in their place.

To feed the golden flower seeds stuck in Azzy's fur with their corpse.

To atone in any way for all the pain they've caused.

(To one day be able to sit and stargaze on top of Mt Ebott together with those they love, just like they promised Asriel they'd be able to do)

Cue time skip to after the end of Undertale and Flowey's 'please don't reset and ruin their happy ending' speech, to show Chara's ghost flopping on top of their flowerbed grave wondering how long they'll be able to last before they give in and ruin Frisk's happy ending once more (with heavy implication that Chara is once more stuck in a time loop with no idea how to get out).

Then a cut to Toriel and Frisk making their way down Mt Ebott and spying a shooting star, Toriel remembering her religion (goodness, how could she have forgotten the Universe?) and praying/wishing to the Universe to 'have one of its stars watch over her fallen children, and give them the happiness she could not'. Cue Chara being shocked out of their non existent skin by a person with the head of a star crashing down right through them onto their grave out of seemingly nowhere.

(Aka, Plot line 1: Chara is trapped in time loop hell and Loop has been sent to help them and possibly Flowey? out of it. ... That's literally all I've got for them right now because I have NO idea how to actually have them interact XD)

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Next section of story cuts over to the northern coast line of Vauguard: Sif and family (including Nille) are on their way back to Bambooche after their most recent travels when basically the world explodes into colours, Sif suddenly remembers a LOT more than they used to and they can all now see the large landmass to the north.

Much eye boggling, confusion, wonder and tears are had before everyone kind of parties and passes out but next day, things are being taken much more seriously:

Why is Sif's forgotten homeland, the Isle of Chara, suddenly back? Why are colours? How is this going to effect all of Vauguard (the fashion industry alone..)? And... What happened to the people of the island? Are they ok or..? And how will the rest of the world react to them being the epicenter of so much very unexpected change?

Cue brief discussion on whether or not to go (mostly just double checking with Sif if he's actually up for it despite the many potential horrors they could find there that are sure to be extra traumatising to them in particular), the group checking in with the House in Bambooche to have word sent to the rest of Vauguard (and hopefully the world at large) that the Saviors of Vauguard are on the case, and well. They could catch a boat or they could try walking along that MASSIVE steel and concrete bridge with its weird black road stretching out over the ocean (which was apparently there the entire time and ok, now everyone is getting really freaked out because it seems there was a fair bit more forgotten than 'just' the Island and the Stars. What else did everyone have stolen from their heads?).

(Aka, Plot line 2: The Saviors of Vauguard heading for The Island, hoping for the best and preparing for the worst, and also the plot line I've done by far the most work on, to the point that it probably needs it's own post)

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And last section, Frisk leads their monster friends down Mt Ebott back to 'the village of the humans' they came from and the monsters are stunned by the sight of... Well, wailing and sobbing adults who barely give the monsters a second glance, curious and 'just as silent as Frisk' children who smile and wave, and an old man Frisk introduces as 'Elder' who despite being very wobbly and also in tears, does his best to greet the monsters, thanks them for returning Frisk and very politely asks if Asgore is their king and here to kill them all as the stars foretold.

Cue a bit of awkward 'Um. Yes and no?' with a request to open talks with the 'leaders of humankind' only for the old man to laugh and cry as he explains that he's the closest thing this settlement's had to a leader for years now by virtue of being one of the few adults here with enough presence of mind to actually function through The Forgetting (he thanks his younger years of being an avid traveller) and that since the monsters breaking the Barrier seems to have made The Forgetting stop and they seem to have some form of government then honestly, they're the ones in charge now since stars know there's probably not much left of the Island's government still remaining all this time, and it's doubtful the people of other countries even remember they exist.

Cue everyone other than Frisk who knew all this being very surprised (Frisk's follow up 'explainations' don't really help a lot since The Forgetting is all they've ever known, and Toriel is so messed up when she realises Frisk and a good number of other kids literally can't talk or read without 'Communication Craft' due to the memory wipe effects they suffered under while growing up) and well. Monster kind move out of Mt Ebott at a breakneck pace while Toriel, Asgore, Alphys and everyone frantically try to get everyone settled, help all the very damaged Islanders into as much stability as they can (some recover better than others but there's a lot of grief over lost family, missing people, etc going around and monsters end up stopping more than a few suicides), and get things organised enough they know everyone will be fine before they can move onto working out WTF happened here. Also in the process of all this they end up working out that some things (like who was in charge before The Forgetting) are still being 'auto deleted' from memory (though the effect is fading as time goes on) and also the Island's capital is a space warped nightmare filled with Sadnesses right now and probably everyone should avoid it.

Lots and lots of world building regarding what Monsters vs Sadnesses are, my headcanons for the Universe religion (going with the Monsters also traditionally being Universe worshippers and much talk is had on the differences between 'the old ways' Toriel and Asgore remember vs the traditions and beliefs of the Islanders), and... yeah.

(That's Plot line 3: Frisk leads the monsters to the one semi stable human adult they know of and the monsters realise that not only are they free to live on the Surface now but the local humans both see them as saviors and desperately need their help after going through something that arguably makes the Underground look wonderful in comparison.)

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Eventually I'm going to have to tie all three of these ideas together and I think I've got some ideas for Plot lines 2 and 3 such as:

Sif's family and/or Undyne bumping into each other catching all the trains to search for survivors across the Island

Mirabelle and to a lesser extent the whole party finding themselves the official Vauguardian ambassadors to the newly formed human/monster Island/Isle of Chara alliance who are very much in need of aid and more info about the rest of the world.

Papyrus and Frisk also being ambassadors, making all the friendships.

Sif realising 'the Elder' is their grandfather on their mother's side and trying to wrap their head around having any family around at all (and also trying not to think to hard about all the family still missing).

Isabeau and Odile uncovering just how much stuff countries outside the Island forgot (airports, train stations, cars, all that juicey science stuff).

The Saviors of Vauguard and various Undertale folks investigating the capital together (learning some of the less pleasant aspects of the Island's politics and culture while there including stuff about Sif's dad's side of the family and why the name Chara matter so much). But well. So far have NO CLUE how to get Chara, Loop and Flowey involved with the rest of the cast since well, they're reluctant to leave and no one else knows they're there. So. Yeah. That's what I have planned out mostly. Will list a bunch of stuff I've thought of regarding Sif's group going through the Island and their hometown (totally gonna bring up the 'Euphrasie Islander and possibly Sif's mom' theory in story but not actually confirm or deny it since well, Euphrasie is out of focus and most likely going through a major 'my memories have returned, how could I have forgotten-' breakdown her beloved Claude is going to have to help her through <3) but that's for another post and er. Yeah. Please feel free to share any feedback, ideas or thoughts you might have on this, and to take a stab writing/scribbling up some of this yourself as well as I think it cold be a lot of fun and I'd LOVE the help XD

#undertale #in stars and time #fais fanfic rambles #isat #isat act 6 spoilers #undertale spoilers #isat spoilers #ut #cw suicide mention #undertale isat fusion fic #post game #fanfiction #Chara and Loop have so much trauma to rant furiously together about but IDK how to even start #Flowey I think remembers SOME stuff looping with Chara during their fusion but they only got those memories back post Undertale #heavy focus on the forgotten island #and all the stuff that may have been forgotten all over the world (in both settings) along with it #...Now wondering if I could play up Dr Gaster vanishing as being partly due to the Forgetting as well #(I feel real guilty making Chara 'responsible' for causing so much damage they'll no doubt will feel horrific guilt over)#(hopefully ensuring the 'win condition' for the story's end requires them getting a happy resolution makes up for that a little)#no clue how to start it but yes frisk and Sif looper friendship is mandatory and I WILL make it happen. Somehow

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