#that both still follow me and are still active on this goddamn site

[redtailfins]

nearly got called an omega in conversation welcome back 2020!!!

[whoson1st]

Are you in the official King Falls server at all? Just trying to get an idea of what's going on and who knows what's going on

Hoooooo BOISE.

So, long story short, yes. Yes I’m in the discord, yes I know what’s going on, and it’s all really, really stupid. I think that there were mistakes made on a lot of fronts, but I also think that the end result is, in a lot of ways, a long time coming.

I haven’t been responding to things I’ve seen on social media for the most part, and wasn’t REALLY keen to respond to this, but there’s also a lot of misinformation happening due to hurt feelings. There’s plenty of abridged accounts of what’s going on, and I’m pretty sure you know that. I’m taking this question on good faith that it’s genuinely asking and not setting me up to get torn down but...honestly, either way, I don’t care. I’m not on tumblr much these days anyway so it doesn’t really matter, and internet drama is just….it’s always dumb. But there’s a lot of “evidence” being put forth that is out of context or in bad faith, and the people who are being the loudest are a whole lot of the problem, so I’ll put in my account and opinions.

Anyway, I’m putting everything under a cut because it’s...a lot.

So first off, full disclosure, I used to be a mod on the discord. I left the team at the beginning of the year of my own volition because I’m an adult with a job and a life and things to take care of that aren’t that and needed a break. I’m still friends with all the current mods, and talk to them regularly, as well as being on good terms with the cast and creators. Just in case you’re dead set on hating any of them, you should know that. I try to keep a pretty good perspective, and I’m a little more removed than I was a few months ago, but I won’t say I’m totally free of bias either. If that’s what you’re into, just go ahead and skip this.

This all started with a piece of fan art, which honestly should be a clue as to how petty this all is. The fanart included The Dirt in a BDSM outfit as part of a larger work, and it was posted in the fanart section of the discord. It was bordering on NSFW, and the artist maybe should have asked the mods and/or put it behind a spoiler tag--which is probably as far as the mods would have gone had they been consulted, because it was 1) part of a larger thing and 2) canon compliant (it’s Jacob Williams, what do you want?). Neither of those things happened, people complained, the art was taken down. Then Kyle Brown, one of the writers, retweeted the copy that had been uploaded to twitter on his personal account--his account, not KFAM official--and someone complained that it made them uncomfortable and was not safe for work. Another cast member, Trent Shumway, replied that twitter isn’t a safe for work site, which it’s not. Which then led to both Kyle and Trent being socially crucified for not taking more care in what their followers see on their personal accounts on an open social media platform that is not dedicated to any single person or work.

It was already stupid. Really, really stupid. Especially since this is not a SFW podcast. It never has been. Everyone remember the third episode with Archie’s pomchies? And I know that certain aspects of that make people uncomfortable but if you are choosing to listen to the show regardless of that, it’s on you. An artist isn’t going to repaint something because you’re not a fan of green. And the SFW rule on the server has always been “within the guidelines of the show”.

So then, someone made this post that has since been deleted but I’m including mostly because if other people want to go ahead and pull receipts, I’m also going to.

Before I go ANY further with this, I want to say this: this person has been a problem for a LONG TIME. Months, at least, since before I left the mod team, and is honestly part of the reason being a mod became so difficult for me. They have displayed a pattern of abuse of the mods, the creators, and other members of the community on both twitter and tumblr, and have made people on the discord server uncomfortable enough that they either don’t participate or have left completely. This one person. And they have a bully squad behind them. And it sucks. But in the end, it was always decided that we couldn’t police what people did on their individual accounts or single someone out who hadn’t technically broken guidelines in the server, despite numerous complaints, because the mods and creators want to make everyone feel that they’re included. This decision was made...numerous times. After multiple incidents. For months.

I had my own issues with this decision, but that’s neither here nor there, and doesn’t really matter anymore. Because that post was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Kyle, misunderstanding the term, took it as a threat. Not hard to do, given the already heightened emotions, the tags, and this person’s history. So the person was immediately banned. The fact is, even without misunderstanding, that’s a really shitty post. That’s hating one a writer and a cast member and still wanting to pretend they have nothing to do with the THING THEY CREATE because this person doesn’t like what they said on twitter.

Following that, one of their friends--who had also been a longstanding problem--attempted to start a knockdown dragout in the general chat with one of the mods over this, and was upset when the mod in question first said they’d be happy to talk on DM but not on the server, and then ignored them when they repeatedly tried to carry on the argument.

Then they lit a candle in the channel the banned person had pitched a fit in order to form, as if the person was dead and not just a jerk. And then they made this post:

They also got banned, because OBVIOUSLY. Again, misunderstanding or not, that’s a horrible way to deal with it. You can’t possibly expect to call someone an illiterate fuckwad and still want to be included in spaces they created, much less EXPECT to be. 

And then several other people who were attempting the same nonsense publicly. And then invites were taken away when the mods got word that there was a possible plan in the works to spam the server. And there’s a weird campaign to EXPOSE THE CREATORS FOR THE ASSHOLES THEY ARE.

And that’s...about where things are at now. A lot of people are upset and hurt across the board. And it sucks.

Here’s the thing. Mistakes were made. Kyle misunderstood Death of the Author, and has a tendency toward knee-jerk, unedited reactions. The mods should have been more on top of the problem and not let it fester. There were ways that this could have been mitigated and done better. There always are.

But this was always going to happen in some fashion.

Podcasts and podcast communities are not new anymore, folks. But it still seems like people have a hard time grasping their actual level of involvement in the creation because of how active some creators are. You’re free to say whatever you want, but you are not free from consequence. And you’re not exempt from being wrong. This isn’t just a matter of the creators of KFAM--or any work, to be honest--not being able to take criticism, this is a matter of people thinking that their criticism is 100% correct 100% of the time, and the entitled attitude that comes with that. KFAM isn’t perfect, I have my own criticisms of it, because I have criticisms about basically everything under the sun, so it’s not just blind following. But it is trust in the creators and the people around them to find the best way to tell their story, to the see their problems and strive for better. And we’ve literally seen that happen in KFAM, in changes made to Walt, in Emily’s storyline, in Lily’s...everything. In the addition of “guys, gals, and non-binary pals”. They’re trying. They’re not perfect, but they’re not deaf. They’re also not obligated or beholden to everything their audience says regarding their story.

The whole argument that they can’t take criticism is undercut when it’s being made by people who think that everything they say should be taken as gospel, and treat every instance where someone disagrees with them as a personal attack. The scope of hypocrisy here is just...breathtaking.

Also, when not withstanding some nonsense attacks, they’re all genuinely kind and friendly. I already admitted some bias here, but seriously, they go out of their way to check on people and respond to people and lift people up. It’s total horse dookie to act like they don’t care about their fans.

And as for the discord--god, just get a life. The mods there work SO HARD to make everyone feel included, to encourage participation, the create a positive environment for people to talk about the things they love and make friends. They have meetings and spreadsheets and calendars and work together as a team and with Kyle to keep the place working smoothly even though there’s FIVE of them running a HUGE server. The person who was initially banned was forever complaining about the discord and how the mods ran it, even while some suggestions they had were implemented. But that discord has like 1500 people in it, gang, it’s not about what one person wants all the time. And that person has their own server anyway so just go be unhappy there and leave everyone else alone. It’s what you were doing anyway.

TL;DR: There was a lot of manufactured outrage over something incredibly dumb, and some misunderstandings, and resulted in actions that had been looming for a long time and just finally popped off. Kyle and the mods aren’t perfect, but they aren’t the villains. The people who were banned have a history of negativity and bullying that led to the decision to remove them.

If anyone takes anything from this, please let it be that it’s a GODDAMN PODCAST. If it makes you angry, if you don’t like it, go watch a movie. Eat a snack. Knit a sweater. Take a nap. Listen to a new music album. Literally anything. There’s so many things to do in this life that aren’t LOOKING for things to be upset about.

Remember the golden rule, and don’t be a dick.

[ragnaofazure]

Characters that were, or never were.

((Hello! This is a list of characters I have actually played on or off the site (like Discord), wanted to or considered quite strongly but never followed suit to do so or whatever.))

((It will all be under read more; this is a long post! If you are interested? Have fun discovering who was in any corner of my repertoire! The list should not be that extensive! I will reblog it if I added anyone new I could recall and forgot to initially should that happen. These are mostly in some form of chronological order with added notes about what their place is with me and more.))

Yu Narukami - (Persona 4)  

Additional note: (Have to biasedly put him first at the top and say how he was my true first muse here, lasted literal years. All my experience comes from him and his blog. He reached nearly 1k followers between both regular and not safe blogs, my true labor of love lost to me deciding to deactivate the blog. Some know me from him originally! You all know who you are!))

Sal (or “Syake”/”Syake-san”) - (Wadanohara and the Great Blue Sea)

Additional note: (My first attempt at a second character and his blog did kinda work for a while, getting a lot of interactions during the original Funamusea craze back in the day. First time playing a truly well evil character and learned lots. His blog eventually died down and faded, but it was an experience I haven’t forgotten.)

Nepgear - (Hyperdimension Neptunia)

Additional note: (A standalone blog attempt again, flopped hard due to how the fandom seemed to have it’s problems on the RP side as well as my own personal reservations (met some couple of awesome people there still around me today though!). One of the most ways to trash a character by a series that had a bit of an identity crisis in the writing department as the years went on. Still not over how hard they literally screwed this good girl over. Every single time.)

Iku Nagae - (Touhou Project)

Additional note: (Part of an incredibly failed multimuse project (that Nepgear was the face of and part of as well for that matter after her blog flopped) and she never got to really experience light of day. I had only the idea of how I wished to portray the character and I still do, but at the same time, I have no idea if it would have earned me the most interactions, admittedly. All due to how passive she is.)

Varus - (League of Legends)

Additional note: (Me having a thing for characters with tragic stories of loss? Are doomed as if fittingly to pay for their sins and as a cost for the tools to live and revenge? He spoke to me way before Ragna. I knew how I wanted to write him, give him flair given his character, which other Champions I wished for him to interact with soon... I had a much clearer idea. But ultimately, also part of the doomed multimuse blog that never took off.)

Goomy - (Pokémon)

Additional note: (No gijinka, only small, sticky bby that I debatably would never allow to evolve and, of course, could talk. Best Dragon type line to ever exist don’t even @ me okay. It’s just... cute. The anime really made it stick out and I loved it. I always also have loved essentially weaker characters and creatures a lot, thus... It resonated with me greatly and idea of how I was going to go about him (yes, had decided on male for it). Again, multimuse failed, so he went away with it.)

Karol Capel - (Tales of Vesperia)

Additional note: (Weak that could be truly strong when overcoming his fears, and that resonated with me given how I consider myself a coward in real life. I also have a thing also for playing characters everyone finds annoying to make them look better when they should not be as disliked too. And once more, multimuse, gone with it, never found a place to remotely discover if I would have also wanted to play him at large either too.)

Elphelt Valentine - (Guilty Gear)

Additional note: (I don’t need to say anything, most of you knew her enough! Blog flopped hard and I couldn’t find the activity I desired. Why I played her? Just... bubbly sweet girl that didn’t want to act on her capability to be deadly as a Gear and only wished for happiness, I liked all that sugar with that depth I tried to give her. As of recent times, Tumblr locked me out and I could not log back in. I sort of took it as a message as to why I maybe shouldn’t try with secondary blogs to a big degree.)

The Masochistic Admiral/Commander/Master(?)/Doctor(?) - (Kantai Collection-Azur Lane (Maybe even Fate and Arknights???) )

Additional note: (So this is a nameless original Admiral/Commander character by the artist known as “Yamamoto Arifred” (look up on danbooru tags under Kantai Collection alongside). I absolutely fell in love with this guy. How I wish it was possible to play him further then I did, I revisit the art work every so often and every day I recall why I liked him so, so much. He’s just beyond amusing, wacky, outright insane and nonsensical in many good shapes and forms. But he only wants one thing: All under him to succeed and become the best they can be under his very questionable yet effective command. I could go on and on but this is already long enough. Standalone blog, flopped due to lack of activity.)

Thief (”Touzoku”) Arthur - (Million Arthur series)

Additional note: (Super unknown series, super unknown plot, I only met all the characters via the available and uncared for fighting game... And her backstory plus design gave me so many ideas I wanted to play around with as a thief wielding a goddamn Excalibur. Of the first characters I said I wanted to play on impulse alone, but who would have cared? Where could she have fit? It was the bigger discouraging thoughts. I have some icons still... But as always, the hesitation from impulse in itself.)

Hassan of the Serenity - (Fate Prototype/Fragments - Grand Order)

Additional note: (Best Assassin, best girl, only Servant that has brought me to tears in this extensive series, for the love of anything holy let her be happy I swear to God, everything about her cuts me so deep, I can’t deal with it every time I think about it ...I’m calm. But really. She touched me so, so deep. I was normally indifferent for so many years about Fate until I stumbled upon the Prototype duology, and subsequently, the Fragments side. After learning her origins and more, her wishes... I can’t state it enough. I am passionate about this girl. She deserves the world. And I would have loved to give her the best if I got to write her.)

Peri - (Fire Emblem Fates - Heroes)

Additional note: (What everyone sees as an annoying, questionable character and way more, I see as yet another pick for me with great potential to try and develop to be liked more by many, for she is not completely disposeable. I had ideas and wanted to take her further while still having her not lose the tendencies she has, because that would be breaking and disregarding character, but sadly, Peri never as much as left my constant thoughts then trying to privately sample around for myself, would have loved to, though. Very.)

Sigurd - (Fate Grand Order)

Additional note: (Amazing design, amazing voice... Literal definition of: “Do it for her”, loves his partner despite their fate... Incredibly underrated man. He is simply the best and I was interested in finding footing to play him, as he deserves to be noticed more for just being... Simply amazing. There is not much more to say than that, he is cool and that is final. Don’t even fight me on these cold, hard facts.)

[luki-fanfic]

KHR/BNHA Fanfic: Role Model Part 1

Sometime last week in the dead of night

My Brain: Hey, you know what?

Me: It’s 2am, why are we not sleeping???

My Brain: If Dabi is Todoroki Touya, then it means he’s a character that was trained for a future role he couldn’t have, that was taken away from him by his father figure due to circumstances outwith his control, was heavily scarred because of it, and as a result; wants to kill said father figure.

Me: …And?

My Brain: …And who would you say that describes almost perfectly?

Me:…

…

No.  Nonononono!  I do not need another plot bunny setting up shop in my-and we’re already getting out of bed and writing this down before we forget aren’t we?

My Brain: ^_^

Enjoy!

—

Role Model: Part 1

Xanxus would really like to know why, when other Trash screw up, he’s the one who has to pay for it.

Seriously, if it’s not his asshole of a not-Father lying his face off for a decade, it’s the baby-Trash getting flung into the future and knocking out the entire Varia high command for 48 hours while they process an additional decade of memories, or some kind of ramen-eating-God trying to kill his Mist via flame-devouring-pacifiers before he shoves one on Xanxus to do the same.

And people wonder why he has a short temper.  He’s a reasonable man!  Just give him a mission that doesn’t involve everything he’s ever known getting flung into a blender with a side of magical-crap and tossed 180 degrees in the air.  Whatever happened to good old Mafioso shoot outs and negotiation’s over dinner?

…God he misses assassinations pre-flame bullshit.  They were so much more fun when he was the only one in the room that knew how to use them.

And now…this.  

In the toilet attached to the lavish meeting room he’d found himself in, he leans over the sink and scowls at the face in the mirror.  A good decade older than he should be, with red, spiky hair and matching stubble on his chin.  Inarguably Asian features, skin paler than his own had ever been, and shoulders like goddamn Levi.

For fucks sake!  Now he has to deal with idiot-Trash in other universes screwing him over? This kind of thing is supposed to happen to the Baby-Trash!  Not him!

He’s still not entirely sure what happened.  One minute, he’s enjoying the last glass of scotch the Bronco-Trash sent over in gratitude for a job well done, the next, his brain’s free falling into nothing.  For a brief moment, panic had taken over, and - positive he was being put under the Zero Point again - lashed out the second he could use his arms.

This resulted in him knocking out someone leaning over his body, and when he heard metal smashing against hard floor – two things that shouldn’t have been anywhere near him - his eyes slammed open to reveal the inside of an ambulance, and a very nervous looking medic overlooking him.

“Endeavour, please relax,” he urges in Japanese, trying to retain eye contact as he kneels down to check on his prone partner.  “We’re still checking for any other effects from the Villain’s quirk.  Do you feel okay? Is there any negative blowback?”

Xanxus just glares at him, trying to piece the words together and wondering why the hell Squalo had called in an ambulance when they have a Quality medical team in the damn mansion, before his eyes catch a glimpse of his legs.

He can’t stop gaping as turns and takes in his full body, pulling up his hands in furious disbelief.

“What the fuck?” he yells, turning them over as if the front will be any less ridiculous.

Xanxus has never, in his life, worn something this humiliating.  It’s a skin tight (almost obscenely so), navy blue bodysuit with orange highlights, along with white bracer’s that go up half his arm and a pair of knee high boots – all of which reek like they’ve been hung to dry in a building undergoing an arson attack.

His first thought, is that whatever mist did this is going to pay.  Painfully.

“Endeavour, what’s wrong?” the man asks again, only to squawk as Xanxus shoves him with the heavy hand and stumbles to his feet, jumping out the door.

What he sees when he staggers outside the ambulance doesn’t help the situation.  While there’s cameras, they don’t look like they’re filming so much as reporting.  There’s chaos outside, but the citizens trapped behind yellow tape have him wondering if someone drugged his booze. Horns, wings, two heads…so many people in the crowd are just ‘off’ in a way that doesn’t make sense.  

An even deeper glance in front of the tape doesn’t make things any easier.  One of the men – he’s assuming police – has a cat head, while there are several men and woman dressed even more ridiculous than he is. One of them is dressed feet-to-nose in fucking denim!  

There are so many possible scenarios, and one is not raised by Vongola standards without acknowledging the truly ridiculous.  As such, the realisation comes very quickly.  This is not his world.  Not even remotely.

Denim-Trash is starting to make his way towards him, and he can feel the paramedics staring at his back.  His eyes flick down to his hand, and he tries to reach for his flames – searching for the primal rage and right of rule that encompass his entire will.

But there’s nothing.  His core feels empty.  Not sealed, but rather, just not there.  Wherever he is.  Whoever he is, flames don’t exist.

No flames.

That…complicates things.

The man in the ridiculous denim getup appraises him.

“You’re not Endeavour, are you?” he says.  Xanxus looks him over.  Considers his options.

“What makes you say that?” he growls.  Denim-Trash raises one eyebrow.

“Endeavour would be screaming blue murder at being put in an ambulance where anyone could see him.”

Well doesn’t ‘Endeavour’ sound like a charmer.  Not that Xanxus would act any differently, but he’d never need the fucking ambulance in the first place.  

The survivalist in him wants to play along.  Bluff his way into solitude until he can figure out what’s happening.  But the Boss part of him has already lined up his options.  There’s just too many variables here.  If he wants home, he’s not going to figure it out alone.

He huffs and crosses his arms.

“No,” he admits. “Looks like somebody royally screwed up.”

Denim-Trash sighs, and runs a hand through his perfectly styled hair.

“And to think, I thought this was going to be a slow week…”

—

He’s immediately ushered to a tall skyscraper not too far away from the incident site, and taken straight to the top floor, where the office of his ‘host’ resides.  There, he finds his way to the bathroom he now finds himself in, trying to compose himself while he figures out what the fuck to do.  Denim-Trash had handed him off to some kind of support staff, but it had been clear nobody had wanted to answer any questions until they had him contained.

It at least gives him time to recover.  He desperately wants a drink, if only so he can throw something at the assholes who are going to come escort him again.  

The information he has is limited.  There was a phone in his host’s pocket, but without knowing the code it was useless.  All he can go on is what he’s seen.  This city looks very Japanese, but the people barely qualify as human.  And the advertisements are all showing people he doesn’t recognise, who look like they should be hand drawn on the front of the comic books he used to read as a kid.  

His flames are also gone, and as far as he can tell, the concept doesn’t exist here. But this outfit was designed to handle fire, and he keeps hearing the word ‘quirk,’ which makes him think there might be something else that substituted on a more mainstream level.  

When he hears voices entering the office, he slams the door of the bathroom open and strides into like he’s not dressed like some idiot on a Sentai show.  He gives a huff of approval as he takes in the room again – the idiot’s whose body he’s somehow possessing might have awful taste in clothes, but he at least knows what he’s doing with interior decorating.  

There are five arrivals when he drops into the plush office seat, and he makes a point to push it away from the computer.  Along with Denim-Trash, one of them is dressed worse than he is and looks terrified to be here, while another screams ‘cop’ with his suit.  The third is an old woman, who merely cocks her eyebrow as Xanxus glides over the floor in the chair, and at her back is a man about Xanxus’s age, dressed in shapeless black and the world’s ugliest scarf.  Seriously, if his Sun was here, that thing would already be aflame, and the world would be better off for it.  

He leans on one hand and scowls.

“So?” he asks. “Figured out how to undo this yet, Trash?”

Terrified makes a squeak that reminds him of the Baby-Trash, but it’s Scarf-Trash that steps forward.

“We spoke to the Villain who attacked Endeavour, and tried to deactivate his quirk,” he explains.  “Unfortunately, once activated, it can’t be shut off.”

Xanxus files away the term ‘quirk’ for future research, and Cop-Trash starts speaking.

“Three days,” he says.  “That’s how long it takes to wear off.  Which is three days longer than anyone really wants the number 2 hero out of commission.”

“To be honest, it might be to our benefit,” the old lady adds.  “Endeavour is known for burning the candle at both ends, no pun intended.  A few days of forced relaxation could be just what he needs.  More importantly, I want to know exactly who we’re dealing with in the mean time.”

Xanxus immediately titles her as the smartest person he’s met so far.  Nobody else has even thought to ask.

“Yes,” the cop says.  “According the registry, his quirk swaps a person’s mind with someone of a similar mindset.  However, he also said that quite often, the people he brings do not seem familiar with this world.”

All of them - minus Terrified, who looks like he wants to sink into the floor – face him with curious looks.  Scarf-Trash also has a hand on his accessory, while Denim’s fingers are twitching.  

“So, who are you?” Scarf-Trash asks.  “And what’s your quirk?  According to records, it varies on whether or not it follows.”

Xanxus stares back, glaring in challenge.  The Cop’s eyes slide away, but the other three match him head on.  His lips twitch slightly in respect.

“My name is Xanxus,” he offers.  “And where I come from, superheroes belong in comic books.  I’ve never heard of ‘quirks’ before today.”

Terrified seems to perk up at that, and the others seem somewhat relieved.

“Well, this world may seem a little strange to you, but I promise you’ll be kept in good hands,” the older woman offers.  “And I’m sure Endeavour will try to keep a low profile until his return.”

Xanxus thinks about what would happen if a self proclaimed hero suddenly landed in the middle of the Varia mansion, and can’t fight the snort of laughter that follows.  It makes the old woman frown.

“That amuses you?” she asks, and Xanxus grins.

“My world is a lot more dangerous” he tells them.  “The criminal underworld is still a thriving commodity, and no quirks, so we don’t have heroes, and don’t look kindly on those that think that’s an option.”

Well, not unless you count a certain brat in Japan who still seems to think he can make the mafia a nice place through the power of friendship…

“It’s a cruel irony,” he continues.  “Your Endeavour isn’t going to know what to do with himself.  Better not get himself killed before we swap back.”

Their faces go dark at that, and Xanxus allows himself to grin.  If it’ll kick their asses into gear and get them to figure out how to get him home quicker, he’ll tell them anything they need to know.

“What about yourself?” Scarf-Trash asks.  “Not a hero, and no quirk, what is it you do back home?”

Xanxus quickly amends his earlier thought.  Certain things would not go over well in such company, and he’s still not sure how well he can defend himself.  It’s probably going to be better for everyone if he doesn’t mention his own personal alliance.  He’s sure Endeavour will do a fine job of explaining that once his traumatised ass returns.

“I run a field office that’s part of my adopted father’s company,” he bluffs. “Lot of classified, high pressure, time sensitive work.  Not looking forward to having it sit on a desk for 3 days.  My employees are going to go mental.”

There’s an understatement.  He guarantee’s Levi is already halfway through a mental breakdown, and Squalo will be screaming at whatever idiot made the mistake of walking down the hall.  Bel will take the opportunity to go ‘play’ (hopefully not with Xanxus’s body), and Mammon is already charging him for the inconvenience of this whole affair. He’s calling it now.

On the plus side, his audience seem to buy it.

“Well then, Xanxus,” the cop says.  “We’ll do our best to get you back as soon as possible.  Until then, I hope you’re willing to work with us to mitigate the damage.”

Xanxus rolls his eyes.

“What do you Trash want me to do?”

—

In the end, his jury decide that since Xanxus doesn’t have a quirk, and doesn’t appear to be able to use Endeavours (fire, which makes sense and is something he might see about rectifying while he waits), that they’ll hide him in his host’s home for the three days.  The man’s family has already been informed, but if he steps out of line, they’ll be taking him back into custody.

It could be worse, he guesses.  He’s in the body of someone important, which means they won’t do anything too damaging to him, and they’re working as fast as they can to get this Endeavour guy back.  He doubts he needs to do anything but stand aside and let them work. Since he’s the victim of a quirk and had no say, he’s clearly being treated with kid gloves.  

No, the biggest threat to getting home is, ironically, home.  If Endeavour is a- oh for fucks sake he can’t believe he’s saying this with a straight face – hero, having him land in Xanxus’s body will not end well for anyone.  The Varia are many things, and most of them are obvious – not even the densest man on the planet could look at them and think they were anything but criminals.  Which means he might run, and that’ll end badly since he’ll be eyeball deep in Mafia territory and probably try to find, ugh, law enforcement.  God willing, his inability to speak the language will convince the Vindice that it’s clearly not Xanxus doing it and keep him out of Vendicare.

Then again, that might be preferable for Endeavour trying to act his way out of it. For all his complaints, his men are Quality, and trained to spot possession and plants.  If Squalo or Bel don’t notice something is off within five minutes, Mammon will.  The lot of them are crazy, not stupid, which means when he gets back, his body will probably be covered in additional scars from ‘interrogation’ while they try to get him back ‘Varia-Style.’  They definitely won’t call in Vongola’s tech team till they’ve tried their own avenues, and Xanxus just prays they confirm that it’s his body before they let Lussuria bring out his ‘toys.’  

He really wants a drink, but he’s expected to keep this body in top condition, and no doubt the man’s family will want their precious hero in one piece, so it’s going to be a long three days unless he can sneak something.  Or maybe Endeavour will turn out to be a secret alcoholic and he’ll be just fine.  If not, he’s going to need to find something for entertainment, or flame or no flames, something is going to burn.

‘Terrified’ is apparently some kind of support aide for Endeavour’s agency, and is put in charge of handling Xanxus while he hides out.  It doesn’t fill him with confidence – the man is definitely used to sitting in the back and giving ‘yes, sir, no sir,’ answers.  As such, he’s not putting much stock in the Todoroki family bios the man is awkwardly stuttering out as they drive to his temporary home.  It sounds like the blurb for some crappy sitcom.  A stay at home wife, two teens, a pre-teen and a brat, all living in harmony.  The eldest son was supposed to be following in his fathers footsteps, but had to hold back on applying due to illness.  The daughter is a perfect Nadeshiko in training, the next boy is thinking about medical school at fucking 12, and the youngest is already on the path to enter hero school in a few years.

Xanxus is the last person to ask about functioning families, but there’s no way this happy cookie cutter description can be accurate.

The car rolls up to a lavish Japanese style house, and Xanxus gives it an approving nod. He’s always preferred Western design, but he won’t deny quality when he sees it.  The security is actually much better than he’d expected too – proper walls and cameras set up in a manner that means he’s missing at least a few.

When they stop, the front door opens to reveal the Todoroki family, and his good mood evaporates.  The woman is a twig, hands a little tight on the youngest boy, whose hair would probably make his Sun squeal.  Both of them are looking at him with some suspicion.  For that matter, so are the pre-teen and the girl.  However, to the side…

The oldest boy has a shock of red hair similar to his current body, and while he refuses to meet Xanxus in the eye for more than a few seconds, his body language is clear.  He’s relieved.

Interesting.

Terrified has been speaking to the wife while he took in his own impressions, but he turns his attention back when he realises they’re looking at him.

“It’s strange,” the woman says.  “You still look so much like him.  The expressions are…well, very familiar.”

She gives a strained smile, and Xanxus feels satisfaction curl inside at the pain the woman is hiding.  

‘I knew it. This Endeavour fucker isn’t half as honourable as they think.’

“I’m Rei,” she continues, oblivious to Xanxus having read her actions.  “We’ll set you up in one of the guest bedrooms for now, is that okay?”

“Is Dad really gone right now?” The pre-teen pipes up, and Rei’s head turns sharply in his direction.

“Natsuo!”

The boy in question pouts.  

“What?  If he’s gone, that means we can play with Shouto today right?  He can’t be trained.”

The youngest, still pinned by Rei’s hands, looks up at his mother with something resembling hope.  Her eyes flicker between him and Xanxus, unsure what to say.

“I haven’t got the slightest clue what training Endeavour-Trash was doing,” Xanxus says, making the decision for her.  “Do what you want.”

The little brat and the pre-teen both grin, but Xanxus notices the red head turning to look at them-

Oh, now that’s interesting.  It’s not there for long, but there’s a very specific array of emotions flashing on the teen’s face when he looks at his youngest sibling.  They’re gone almost too quick to notice, but Xanxus caught it all.

He’s the only one though, as the girl takes his comment as an invitation, suspicion fading away as she steps forward and into a quick bow.

“I’m Fuyumi,” she says.  “We’ll try to make your stay as comfortable as possible.  Is there anything you need?”

A drink and a plane ticket to Italy, Xanxus thinks, but he doesn’t answer, choosing to stare at the boy on the end.  

There’s something about the Trash’s appearance that’s bothering him, and he can’t figure out what.  His hair is long, definitely grown to hide his face, and he has the personality of a mouse judging from how much effort it takes to get him to raise it for more than a few moments. Every inch of his body is covered, from the turtle-neck down to the combat boots.  Given that it’s not a cold day and everyone bar Xanxus is in shorts, it’s probably a style choice.  But whenever he does look up, he’s grinning, and trying to hide it – between that and the earlier interaction, Xanxus makes his mind up rather quickly.

“How about a tour of this place?” Xanxus asks, and points at the teen.  “Yo, Trash, show me where I’m allowed to go.”

That gets the boy’s head up.  “W-what?  Me?”

Fuyumi looks a little blind sided, as does Rei, while Natsuo is frowning, but Xanxus just nods.

“Yeah, you,” he says.  “That a problem?”

“Touya?” Fuyumi asks, glancing at her other brother, but the teen – Touya, Xanxus tries to remember – just swallows and gives a shaky nod.

“Okay.  I can do that,” he says, and gestures with his arm.  “Follow me.”

Xanxus grins and does just that, passing the confused family and immediately tossing them out of his mind for now.  When they enter the building, the boy risks looking up at him, agitation on his face for the first time.

“Why me?” he asks.  “Fuyumi would have done it.”

“I didn’t want Fuyumi-Trash to do it,” Xanxus said.  “You’re more interesting.”

Touya’s eyebrows furrow, and Xanxus smiles – the expression slipping off when Touya flinches.

“Your old man, he’s Trash, isn’t he?”

The teen at his side pauses as he walks down the hall.  

“He…Endeavour is the Number 2 hero in Japan,” he replies.

“And my old man is one of the most powerful men in the world,” Xanxus counters. “Doesn’t change the fact that he’s a piss poor father”

Ah, there is is. Touya’s lips peel back in a wicked smile for a quick second, and Xanxus goes in for the kill.

“I picked you, because you’re the only one in this family not trying to hide it.”

Another flinch, and then the teen looks up at him, confusion in his eyes.  Xanxus faces him head on.

“I saw the look you gave the baby brat, Trash,” he tells him.  “Back when he learned he didn’t have to ‘train.’  I might have only gotten the media approved profiles, but I’ve seen this before.”

God has he ever seen it before.  Resentment at a sibling, followed by guilt for feeling resentment, finished off with anger at the whole situation.  He knows that look well.  Before his brother’s died, when the Ninth chose them one after the other instead of him, he wore it on a daily basis.

Before he knew why, and resentment and guilt disintegrated into pure rage.  

Touya almost looks guilty, and his eyes are getting wider by the second.  Xanxus grins.

Looks like he’s found his entertainment.

“I’ve got three days here, Trash,” he says.  “Quality can destroy worlds in one.  So why don’t you tell me what’s really going on in this house?”

[dragons-bones]

The White Vault Season Three Roundup

Posting this as the tenth and final episode of the season is now in public release!

So I listened to the early release of the season finale on Saturday, screamed a lot, and immediately sat down and re-listened to the whole season. The following post is being put behind a read more for both length and season-wide (finale included) spoilers and includes discussion and theorizing for season four, which Travis confirmed is the penultimate season. (IS IT OCTOBER YET.) Please DO NOT READ until you listen to the finale!

First and foremost, I was originally a little concerned that season three would end up hitting all of the same story beats as the first two seasons without anything new, particularly on the matter of the mystery: lots of puzzle pieces that still don't quite fit together. Arguably we still don't have any clear answers...but we have a lot more pieces that I think we're seeing the overall shape. There is definitely some sort of centuries-and-continents-spanning conspiracy, one dedicated to keeping the shadow monster(s) and totem monsters fed, or appeased, or something, along with the people and civilization that revolves around these creatures. We don't know the why, we don't know the how, but I am personally surprisingly at ease with not having anything answered at this point--honestly I am having an incredible amount of fun speculating in my own mind and reading other fans' takes on tumblr and reddit. Travis and Katie confirming we have a fourth and fifth season to finish telling the story gives me a lot of confidence, particularly since season four is going to take a vastly different tack than the first three seasons.

The Documentarian confirms in the opening of episode one that she had come into possession of the information she presents to whom we knew as of episode five to be Graham "Fuck You I Have A Shotgun" Casner just a few days ago. Episode ten confirms that the events of season three literally occurred within the last few weeks and Dr. Zhou "Fuck You I Have A Frying Pan" Liu, Dr. Josepha Guerrero, and Simon "Fuck You I Am Getting Off This Mountain If I Have To Tobogan Down It" Hall may still be alive up in the caves. I am practically frothing at the mouth with excitement because this really raises the stakes for next season, and while I'm more than certain the entire cast isn't making it out alive...enough might. And in this situation: the dangers are known by both the rescue party and the scientists; and the scientists are the kind who might be able to begin putting our puzzle pieces together, along with whatever the Documentarian acquires elsewhere.

I want to give an especial shoutout to Peter Lewis as Graham Casner. I remember when I first listened to The White Vault, I was a bit uncertain about his voicework: he has a very deliberate, almost stilted-sounding delivery as Graham. His performance really clicked for me when we got the segue ways of him narrating Russian journal entries into an English translation: his Russian, to my ear, sounds very smooth with no hesitation. My thought is, English isn't Graham's first language, and his measured way of speaking is how he ensures he organizes his thoughts properly to be understood. And just--his performance this season was SO GOOD. Especially in the finale, he sounded so raw and angry and just a little bit broken over the discovery that the body Dr. Liu and Dr. Guerrero found truly wasn't Dr. Ureta (I thought, in episode nine, that they're comment of "that's not Dr. Ureta" was more a metaphoric "that's not her anymore" based on what they knew of Simon's experience so far), but Rosa. Like. Holy shit. 10/10 Peter Lewis, godDAMN.

(Aside: props to all the voice actors this season. We really heard them come into their stride as the season progressed, but special props to: Danilo Battistini as Lucas, who showcased Lucas’s descent into (religious fervor inspired?) madness; Eric Nelsen as Simon, who got saddled with a lot of the technical archaeological talk and made it sound natural (really evident when you listen to the bloopers); and Diane Casanova as Eva, who did a fantastic job showing her dealing with the stress of the situation while still remaining snarky and defiant.)

And now to Rosa--who was, unquestionably, my favorite member of the Fristed expedition, so I was, in fact, yelling like a mad thing while my heart went icy and broken when the body was identified as hers. So, I remember reading in a post-episode speculation thread on reddit earlier in the season that maybe the tunnels between Svalbard and Patagonia were connected and this was the same shadow monster as the Fristed team encountered. I thought this was particularly far-fetched bullshit, but, uh apparently not? Good job, fellow speculator! You called it! Perhaps they're not physically connected (that stretches my suspension of disbelief beyond the breaking point, considering Svalbard and Patagonia are on literal opposite ends of the planet), but maybe it's a space-time distortion, and the deep caves between Svalbard and Patagonia (and Heilongjiang Province in northeastern China, and wherever else this strange civilization has pockets of activity) are linked via supernatural means. And a space-time distortion would explain why to Graham, it didn't seem too much time had passed for him in the tunnels before he found a way out, even though it was weeks if not months before he was located.

(Brief side note: definitely the Svalbard totem monster that got him, that strange walrus-like entity with the super-elongated phalanges. Also features in Artifact. That totem monster scares me and scares me deeply.)

So does this mean the shadow monster at Fristed and Piedra are the same, able to travel between locations depending on which ones have people near them? (SPOILER FOR ARTIFACT: it's implied there's more than one and they can "travel" via the totem animal artifacts END SPOILER) Does this mean we might see "Jonas" again? Oooooh, two shadow monsters, das bad, das really bad.

(Another brief side note, since I didn't do an episode nine roundup: the dark part of my mind that loves the creepy horror elements of this podcast was overjoyed at being slam-dunked right into the fucked-up-edness of the return of the still-beating heart and teeth in a stone box. Just. Good shit, lots of nightmares, jumping at shadows that night, S U P E R B.

...Wait, Rosa's is the first body actually found, even though we know the shadow monster killed her. Karina's, Walter's, and Carito's bodies never showed up, and we know their hearts and teeth ended up in the stone boxes. Does that mean Rosa's didn't? Is there specific significance to this?)

The sites do seem to be very different: China was a mountain village, most of the village open air with their private ritual rooms carved into the mountainside; Svalbard's might be under a glacier, and is an entire underground village, with its ritual sites buried beneath it; and Patagonia is less a proper village and more a winding system of living quarters and open public/ritual spaces. Svalbard is also currently the only one (that we know of, we have no information about the interior of the China site) using teeth to pave its stairs so, uh, take that as you will.

Teeth appear a lot. I have a thing about teeth, and yet The White Vault doesn't ping it? It's rather strange.

RAIMY. RAIMY YOU GO GET YOUR MAN. PROUD OF YOU, PLEASE DON'T DIE. (Honestly, though, I get the feeling if the shadow monster breathes anywhere in the general vicinity of Raimy, Simon will go batshit and beat the thing to death himself. He is injured but he is pissed.)

I continue to have low expectations about Eva's survival. That she got off the mountain is a surprise--stalked by the shadow monster, perhaps hoping she lures more people to the caves?--and that her 'infection' (excuse me as I continue to have flashbacks to Jane Prentiss in TMA Season One and cry uncontrollably because oh my gooooooooood) hasn't, y'know, gotten properly ugly yet. But goddamn I love her spirit, I love that she's so determined to get the rest of the team out. I WANT her to survive, but all the clues are pointing at REALLY BAD SHIT happening to her.

I remain deeply curious about whether or not Dr. Ureta’s previous trip to the Patagonia site is what primed her to be the first victim of the Piedra team. This might very well be something we don’t ever receive a proper answer to--sometimes some mysteries remain so, after all--but I do find it telling that we have very little of her personal thoughts, unlike the other members of the team (aside, of course, from Lucas).

Dr. Guerrero remains the loose end for me: Simon and Dr. Liu have both shown an utter lack of fucks to give about not letting this monster have them, but Dr. Guerrero was so tunnel-visioned on the science of the find that we notes and thoughts we have her don’t give us a conclusive enough picture about what to expect going forward. But we might end up surprised.

I’m very interested to see what Maheer and Dragana bring to the table: Maheer is obviously the Documentarian’s man because of a very nice paycheck, and Graham’s grumbling about Dragana’s prodding for details has me on alert mostly because Graham is my guy and he deserves a fucking nap and a vacation for all the shit he’s had to deal with.

The White Vault: Iluka is coming up this month on Patreon; I’m willing to bet this is what the Documentarian is preoccupied with while Graham and the rescue team head into the mountains. I’m really curious to see whether or not this might have anything to do with the events of the short Acquisition? I feel we’re due for that to come into play...

There is just. So much. So damn much.

IS IT OCTOBER YEEEEEEET.

[justjessame]

A Reluctant Hero Chapter 9

Kelsey’s favorite dinner was simple to make.  I could do it with muscle memory alone, and nothing would fuck it up.  As I worked, I considered Dorothy Richter.  Maybe I hadn’t been fair with the woman.  I’d offered her pregnant daughter a home, sure, but I guess that she could have taken my gesture of goodwill as me butting in where I wasn’t needed.  I wasn’t a parent, but if I had a daughter, I could see where a stranger offering her a place to live while she was going through some issues with her family might be construed as sticking my nose where it didn’t belong.

I was putting the finishing touches on the dining room table, which I’d covered with a tablecloth for the first time since I’d bought the damn thing.  JD was right, of course, the table was gorgeous.  Making it into kindling would be a damn waste, but staring at the gleaming top only made me see Roger’s naked self grinding against a student.  So a heavy lace covering, a family heirloom, was now covering the entire damn thing.  I added candles, and a few flowers, and then set the table.  

Dinner would be ready in around a half an hour, when the first guest arrived.  I say first, because my life seemed to be a massive fucking surprise party that kept coming, calls and now visits.

“Dorothy,” I greeted her as Kelsey came in through her own entrance.  They met at the threshold of the dining room and I could see how impressed JD’s ex wife was at the sight of my home and it’s decor.  “We have a little bit of time before dinner is finished, Kelsey, why don’t you take your mom into the living room.  Dorothy?”  Her focus returned to me, and I smiled.  “Can I get you something to drink?”

I got a small tray out for the three drinks I’d made when I was told I had another visitor.  And this was a visitor that would have been welcome on any other fucking evening, but I had a feeling that steadily rose as he walked in, that shit was just getting started at being the weirdest evening of my life.

“JD,” I heard Kelsey’s mom call out, her shock evident in her tone as I came out of the kitchen with my tray. 

Under other circumstances, with more warning perhaps, the site of JD looking like a deer trapped in the headlights might have been funny.  Maybe.  He was looking from me and the tray I held, to the living room that currently houses his ex wife and daughter.  Whatever he’d had planned for the evening, the look he shot me when he turned to face me showed that he was disappointed at the loss of it.  

“Hey,” I offered, taking the tray into the living room and sitting it on the coffee table.  “What do you want to drink, JD?”  

He followed me into the kitchen, and I was so fucking happy that I’d insisted on a real door for the room because he had me pressed up against the island as soon as it swung shut behind us.  And then his mouth was on mine and he was granted one of his wishes, swallowing that tiny noise that I made when our tongues touched.  My hands were tangled in his hair, and I could swear that the room temperature rose ten degrees as he feasted on my mouth.  

We pulled back, but not away, and he leaned forward so our foreheads touched.  “Fuck if I haven’t thought about doing that since the other night.”  He rubbed his nose against mine.  “Actually, I think I’ve thought about doing that since I fucking first laid eyes on you.”  My hands were still in his hair and I chuckled at how we met.  “Yes, Ani, even drunk as a skunk I wanted you.”

“Too bad that I insisted I wanted to remember the ride, huh?”  He dipped back in for another taste as the timer rang behind me, reminding me that I had his daughter and his ex only a few rooms away.  “Shit.”

“I didn’t know Dorothy was going to be here,” really?  It was a surprise to me too, at least when your child suggested it.  “Guess I’ll head home and call you later so we can catch both of our fucking houses on fire.”  I rolled my eyes as I pulled away and started getting dinner put into and on serving dishes.  

“Grab a plate from-” I pointed to the cabinet that held my better set of china.  “And utensils from-” Another gesture.  “The extra napkins are here,” I pulled open another drawer.  “I made enough for leftovers, trust me, one more to the table won’t be a burden.”  He stepped up behind me and I felt the heat of his full length press against my back.  And then his lips met the back of my neck and I had to hold back a very loud moan. “Careful, I’d hate to fucking drop dinner.”

“If you do, then we can send Kelsey and Dorothy out for take out, and we’d have the entire fucking house to ourselves until they come back.”  His lips were sliding along the curve of my neck to my shoulder.  

“It would only take them ten minutes, JD.”  I bit my lip as his teeth nipped at my shoulder.  “Tempting though that idea maybe, I think I’m gonna want more than ten minutes.”  His laugh vibrated through me and then he pulled away.  Damn it.

“Have it your way,” he was opening the kitchen door to add his place setting to the table.  “Don’t say I didn’t offer.”  

Dinner wasn’t as bad as I feared.  Dorothy did shoot a few weird looks at JD and then me, but she didn’t say anything.  Kelsey tried to keep the conversation flowing, and it mostly worked.  Mostly.  JD had set his setting across the table from me, and since I was at the ‘head’ of the table, he was at the ‘foot’, and the length meant we couldn’t touch if we tried.  We could look, though, and I didn’t know for sure about him, but I was a squirming mess on my end.

As I was about to announce dessert, another guest arrived.  A very unwelcome guest.  When I told Pandi to send him away, he got a tad vocal, and I sighed.  

“Fine,” I stood up and stalked to the front door.  “Give me a moment, please.”  I knew that Dorothy was about to ask questions behind me, but all I could focus on was the imbecile that was waiting for me on my doorstep.

Roger looked rough.  That’s the best way I could put it and I swear it wasn’t colored by the last activity I saw him engaged in.  No, he was rumpled, his hair was sticking up like he’d been pulling at it, and he looked almost feral in the eyes.  

“I thought I told you that we’re done.”  I said, glaring up at him.  “That would mean that you aren’t welcome here, Roger.”  

He took a step closer to me, and I felt the heat of JD against my back again.  I couldn’t see his face, but Roger could and it stopped his forward momentum.  “Who the fuck are you?”  He asked, his voice a pale imitation for the deep voice that answered him.  

“JD Richter,” his voice sounded normal, so I couldn’t fathom why Roger looked so scared.  “You must be Roger.”  That snapped Roger out of his fear and into defense mode.

“What the hell are you doing in my house?”  My ex had the nerve to ask.  HIS house?  The literal fuck?

“YOUR house?”  I was inches away from throttling his ass.  “I don’t know what drugs you must be on to be that fucking delusional, but THIS-” I waved my hands at the expanse of my property.  “Is MINE.  I financed it, I had it built, and I am the only fucking name on the Goddamn deed, so Roger, I think you need to get the fuck off of my lawn.”  

“You heard the lady,” JD’s voice had changed, slightly, and I saw Roger gulp.  “Leave.  Now.”  I watched as Roger tried to decide if it was worth the fight, but JD had about six inches on him, and from what little I’d touched so far, he was solid muscle.  “Go.”

Roger chose to take the ‘high road’ as it was.  “Fine.”  He spat out, looking for all the world as though he was the victim in our story.  That I’d somehow betrayed him.  “Fine.  You can have her.”  And then, in the most hilarious flounce that I’d ever witness, he turned with his nose in the air, and fell off the step he’d been standing on.  

I couldn’t help it, I laughed.  He looked like a fucking buffoon, indignation and wronged, and now he was face down in the grass with his ass up high.  Fucking hell.  I turned away, and finally saw JD’s face, but all I could see was my own mirth reflected.  

“Fucking idiot,” he muttered, shutting my front door behind us, and then kissing my lips gently.  “Come on, I think Kelsey and Dorothy are getting dessert served.” 

[rueur]

Morning Pages No. 61

Monday 24th August - 1:04pm

I know that it’s a bit late in the day to start this entry, but I needed another bit of a morning off. Evan and I had an early night last night but we had sex first. We were both so tired afterwards due to consistent daily workouts, that we ended up falling asleep naked and staying asleep till about 8am. To be clear, we went to bed around 10:30pm, so it was a long night of sleep for both of us. I’m grateful for it though, because even though my calves still hurt like crazy, I do feel refreshed and like the healing process is underway. What did we do this morning? The son of a bitch restarted Breath of the Wild and we’ve both been playing on his new save file. I have to buy another copy of that game because I really want to replay it now. Even so, I have a lot of work to do and I’m yet to make proper headway on Julie’s new site. It’s coming along relatively fine in Squarespace but I’ve only worked on it for about an hour and I’ve yet to add the privacy policy and finetune a lot of the product links. I feel like we’ll absolutely need to add some copy for the products, and definitely put a disclaimer about the use of fabric softener either at the top of the description or below...or both? It’s pretty important.

I’ve been chatting to Sarah on Whatsapp. I feel like Sarah is a bit of a better influence on me than Wren, but I hate that I’m comparing them both in my head. I just feel a bit disheartened in my relationship with Wren, because of all the horrid experiences I’ve had with them over the course of this year. It’s been quite confronting to see how Wren acts when they’ve decided they’re in a more dire situation than me...like I’m not even sure if that’s what’s happened, but that’s what it’s felt like to me. I can’t understand how they’ve just been able to decide that just because they’re living alone, this time is harder on them? I don’t know. And even if it is harder, which I can admit that it most likely is, that doesn’t mean that I should have to incorporate addressing their pain into my life on a daily basis. I was willing to chat every day. But I also don’t want to feel like my life has to be placed on hold for them, whenever they may want me. I’ve felt like that enough in this friendship as it is. I’ve given them whatever I’m capable of giving, and I’ve given them a hell of a lot more than I’ve given any other friend I have ever had. Except, maybe, for Malith. But Malith has certainly given me more than I’ve given him. Goddamn. I’m fighting the urge to delete this whole paragraph, but I deserve to express myself. This year has been fucking hard for me. I’ve not been suicidal, because that part of my life is over. Even if Evan and I break up, that part of my life will always always be over. It’s no longer an option in my head, to go down that route. It’s a time-waster. There are better things to do than yearn without end, than wish for better than you’ve got. I’ve been dealt both a bad and good hand, and it’s only bad because I see it as so. It’s only good because I see it as so. Wren needs to learn that everyone has fucked up mums, figuratively speaking. Everyone has SOMETHING that they wish they had lived without. Everyone has SOMETHING that they wished was just a smidge better than it was. I don’t want any part of explaining all the fucked up shit that has happened to me over the course of my childhood. I don’t want to have a dick-measuring contest when it comes to depression and trauma. Fuck that. I’d much rather live in the present and be happy with the life I’ve built for myself. Even Wren needs to feel their privilege to a certain degree. It would be ludicrous if they didn’t. Two apartments, a job that they love that compensates them really fucking well, and an abundance of resources that provides them with independence and agency. I have so little of all that they have, and I’m working my ass off for next to nothing in return, just building up a resume that may not even receive a stolen glance at the end of all of this mindful building. Who knows? My fate rests in the hands of people who I feel quite sincerely don’t want me to succeed. I have a name and face and degree that is just...unhireable. But I don’t let that beat me the fuck down, because I know that I work harder and fucking smarter than anyone else on that pile of resumes. So I keep going, knowing that my work will become of a benefit to whichever organisation I end up representing.

My whole being right now is just revolving around entering the industry, like properly becoming a content writer and being able to actually use my degree to begin to pay off that motherfucking HECS debt. I know I’m swearing a fucking lot, but I feel like it’s actually helping me so I’m not going to stop. I don’t care who reads this and who judges me for it because at the end of the day, you’re the ones reading these sensitive pages on a blog that I’ve told nobody about. How did you get here?

I’m feeling paranoid, fired up. I can feel it in my fingers. My hands are freezing cold, and Evan’s in the one room that has the heater and he’s sitting there on his ass with the door shut. And I’m starting to feel like maybe I always find myself on the outside because I allow myself to get there. I have to start standing up for my damn self, but also...I know how to choose my battles, I suppose. Is it knowing how to choose your battles if you partake in a MINIMAL number of battles? Like a fractional amount of battles to the battles that you could have potentially fought in? Fuck. Nicky’s sleeping on my white vest. I may need to patch that up, but the inner fabric is so sheer, I’m not entirely sure how it’ll respond to a needle and thread. I may need excess fabric...we’ll see.

My cross-stitch order is on the way, and I’m excited to begin this new activity. I bought a hot air balloon pattern for Wren, I’m not sure if I’ve already said that. I’m looking forward to learning how to do this, because apparently it’s quite similar to knitting? Or at least the basics of knitting. I’ve heard that cross-stitch is a good introduction to knitting. After this, it may be good to see if I can give crochet a go too, but it’s also a little bit intimidating. I mean crochet is all about three-dimensional creations, whereas cross-stitch and knitting are generally more...patterned art, scarves, and blankets. Still functional, but more veering on the side of two-dimensionality. I’m a touch surprised that ‘dimensionality’ is a word. It feels like the kind of word that a primary school-aged student would assert is ‘ACTUALLY A WORD’, even though you know it’s not. OH, listen to this fresh hell! That ‘SNACCIDENT’ Typo lunch mug thingo we have says that the word ‘SNACCIDENT’ is a VERB, which is plain RIDICULOUS. If the word ‘accident’ is a noun and they’re claiming that ‘SNACCIDENT’ is a verb, then a sample sentence using that word would read as follows: ‘Henry snaccidented’. VERBS ARE FUCKING DOING WORDS. In no CONCEIVABLE UNIVERSE would ‘SNACCIDENT’ be considered a VERB. My fucking lord. These pages are just RAGE-FILLED, aren’t they? Which is actually pretty interesting, because I don’t feel mad? I feel fine. I feel a little bit annoyed that it’s almost 1:30pm and I’ve not done a lick of work either today or yesterday. I’m thinking I should send Julie a text today asking if she’d be free to meet up again sometime early next week, maybe Tuesday or Wednesday? I feel like I could make great progress on the website during that time. We shall see what happens. We shall see what I eventually get around to doing. I need money, gosh darn...

I feel like I’ve been writing a lot about money during these pages, and I understand why. Money has become a bit of an issue for me since moving out, which I know...doesn’t necessarily need to be said. But you must understand that I’m studying AND working AND working AND working AND working. And I’m still not making that much. It’s frustrating. I’m trying not to think about it right now because of lockdown and the fact that the bulk of my situation is currently out of my own control, but this is all really because of the house. Just knowing that Evan and I are ready for that step is enough for me to just want it now. The issue is - as is usually the case - MONEY. If we had enough for at least a 10% deposit, that would be insane. But a 10% deposit on a house valued at $500,000 is $50,000, and combined we only have HALF of that. If we could potentially get some rich parents or guardians to match what we have, then we could actually do it. But who even has rich parents or guardians? And I don’t think my dad would sign off on this until maybe after we’re married? I’m fighting the urge to go check if the house is still even listed online. I’m hopeful that it’ll be up until we have the money. Or maybe until we can get to a combined $30,000, to give us a bit of a buffer once we’ve given the rest of our money to whichever gross corporation decides to grant us a loan. Ahhhhhh. Why does this world try its hardest to strip you of all your agency? Why is it that so many people struggle to even find a place to be? A place to call their own? It’s cruel. I can only hope this archaic order is on its way out. I was hoping the realities of climate change, or police brutality, or perhaps even COVID-19 would pave the way for the people’s revolution, but I now feel it may be something more innocuous, more unexpected. Something that the bigwigs won’t see coming, as the people themselves won’t see it coming. Even so, everybody knows that it’s on its way. The ultimate fight between the oppressors and the oppressed, and the one brawl that may reveal the future of western society. Democracy is indeed dead. We’ll see how quickly the next system comes into place, and exactly whose side that system will be on. And as for the universal base income, I find myself rooting more and more for it, but I also know that it may be provided to us as a band-aid, built to keep the people’s revolution at bay. But as long as there are billionaires, there’s no way that the revolution won’t be coming. Exponential growth cannot occur unless it’s built on the backs of millions, billions. This current system is just not economically viable, which is ironic considering that ‘economic strength’ is usually the reason capitalists vouch for capitalism. I believe capitalists are just people who haven’t shirked their ‘American Dream’ yet, who basically still believe in Santa Claus. I’m not even sure what to call myself. A social capitalist? I believe people should feel compelled to build their businesses and to innovate their industries, but I don’t believe in penalising those who have ‘valueless skills’. I also refuse to believe there is such a thing as a ‘valueless skill’. Perhaps being able to write stream of consciousness entries is a valueless skill. That may be the only thing.

[kaoarika]

Tfw Tumblr forces you into their update... and you cannot go back.

(still, not in this account, but one of my alt-accounts)

I KNEW something was weird when they rid off that switch from old dashboard to their beta at the top of the page. I WANT to believe it’s still in beta because, ffs, it’s so goddamn awful.

I SEE they changed some stuff around (so they DID pay attention to some feedback), and good for them... but aesthetically speaking (plus that gdm inifinity scroll, UGHHHHHHHH), it’s still awful.

They don’t really think in ppl who use older computers (my lap is 6-7 years old, despite me using it since 2015), and that freaking Chrome uses a LOT of activity resource from some websites alone. Their beta update DOES IT to me.

It’s a BIG difference going from the dashboard to the settings option because I can hear the fan of my lap acting LOTS more in the main dashboard page... and when I subtly change into Settings, it calms down. The layout there is still same old dashboard. So, that’s why I assume it’s still on beta.

I saw someone posting a thing days ago that you can go back to old dashboard from settings, but I don’t see the option so... either a) they are already pulling these onto us (gradually), or b) it’s still on freaking beta and this option hasn’t been reached to all of us that were on beta (also, gradually).

I have been on this gdm hellsite since 2009 and I know I have complained before about even the little dumb aesthetic changes they have made ever since. Lots of things they implemented in the past have been okay... (but not as excellent as those thing like the devs behind the extinct Missing e or even xkit) and I see they are TRYING to up their game...? (the devs, not the ones that spend money on the site...), but it’s like... like, I said before, it’s like they want to make their interface more “unified” for both mobile and desktop users... except they fail miserably on that because mobile =/= desktop. And the mobile experience look like far worse than desktop... so, it’s like a “pick your poison” kind of deal. (The site really went to hell after the Yahoo buyout, which was 7 years ago, I SWEAR TO GOD)

Twitter forced an update onto their users after a long while they were on beta stages. I still dislike it, but not as much as I did before (although they still have looooooots to improve, I am not kidding).

DeviantArt is also on constant beta with their “Eclipse” mode, but at least they give this option of changing it to the old version (until they make Eclipse as the new normal), and are constantly telling their users that they receive feedback.

I sent a few feedback comments about this Tumblr update, but... it’s still an automated robot and my complaints could fall into deaf ears (at least the tags send you to tags and not... your own tags).

...Infinity Scroll can be good for stuff like Twitter... but not Tumblr, really. It’s annoying and it consumes lots of my computer’s resources than it’s necessary (more than it already does because CHROME SUCKS A LOT OF IT ALREADY), and it might send me into despair (either my computer freezes... OR BSOD).

Also...I think I found a reason why my post from yesterday didn’t gain traction (besides the fandom being dead-dead) and it’s because I put links on it and I should remember how the frick this hellsite treats those posts - as invisible, unless someone is following you.

I mean, ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I know the site is dying to the eyes of the users that moved out to other platforms and I don’t follow many (active) ppl anyways (most activity I have is max. 15 pages out of new content). The sentence was there when the adult content ban was made.

I’m going to suffer if they don’t change their mind and put a “pages” option, especially when it’s going to be reflected on tagged stuff... and when eventually EVERYONE gets the update.

[enaxii]

the art of falling in love

link to ao3 in the notes

summary: Dazai Osamu cannot love.

(Or so he says.)

The first time, they are 15. Dazai stands over the corpse of a dog, a bullet lodged though it’s head from the gun in his hands. The dog had been, for whatever peculiar reason, following him and Chuuya around the neighbourhood, but it was beginning to annoy Dazai with its relentless barking. Gun in hand, he found his solution to that particular problem.

“What the hell, shitty Dazai?!”

Despite deciding to put in effort to dispatch of this thorn himself, Dazai is being yelled at.

“It was just a goddamn dog, couldn’t you have left it alone?”

Chuuya’s glaring at him from under the brim of his hat, and he rolls up his sleeves before squatting down to cradle the dog’s carcass in his hands. Dazai watches, almost bemused, as Chuuya brings the dog to the sidewalk and quickly buries the dog with help from his Ability.

“Huh... You’re pretty upset over this. Why? There are millions of better dogs out there. That one was just an annoying stray.”

Chuuya glares at him.

“Yeah, well, it was just following us around, wasn’t it? It’s not like it was doing anything to us!”

At this, Dazai understands.

“You were attached to the dog, weren’t you?”

Chuuya splutters indignantly, but doesn’t deny the claim.

“Oh Chuuya, you must know that I can’t love, right~?”

He singsongs, dancing around Chuuya’s shriek of “What the hell, it’s not love-”, nimbly leaping out of reach of his kick.

“And besides, you’re my real dog, anyway~!”

Dazai sprints down the street with Chuuya yelling bloody murder, and the dog carcass lies forgotten in its grave.

The next time, they’re 18, and Odasaku is dead. Dazai feels- many things. Too many things, all jumbled up where before it was just a cold apathy. He’s never felt this numb, No Longer Human pulsing through his veins, but yet he’s never felt this... alive either, the rush of grief and determination, the final gunshot ringing through the air and-

“ODASAKU!”

Like lightning flashing through the sky, painting the heavens in a bright light before returning to its gloom, and a downpour begins, the clouds weeping perfect tears that drench the parched earth.

Dazai finds himself outside the mansion, rooted to the ground even as the rain pours around him, unable to move. His legs will not move, will not move , and instead, he collapses into the dirt, hand pressed to his mouth till he can feel the imprint of his teeth on his palm.

Dazai can’t breathe, can barely feel himself through the pounding of his heart and the pounding of thunder, a sudden crack of the skies splitting into half. It feels like the very cosmos are falling down around him, drowning him in the flare of stars so bright that he cannot look at it, and he feels like a flower wilting under the blinding light.

When the light clears, he finds himself still rooted to the spot by the gate, but there’s an umbrella held over his head and a jacket draped over his shoulders.

Chuuya stands beside him, in the rain, his expression unreadable.

“You really do love him, huh?”

Dazai tried to suppress a laugh, but it bubbles up in his throat anyway.

“S-silly Chuuya, I can’t love, remember?”

Dazai doesn’t know who he’s convincing, but Chuuya doesn’t reply. Instead, he stands in the rain, holding out an umbrella as he wordlessly watches Dazai.

When he decides to disappear barely a day later, Dazai doesn’t say goodbye.

And after that, they’re 22, and they’re on opposite sides of the battlefield.

Dazai’s smiling freely amongst the members of the Armed Detective Agency, and Chuuya’s doing whatever Executive business he needs to do in the Port Mafia.

They’re 22, and then suddenly it’s like they’re 15 because they’re fighting together, again. They are both there to rescue the twice-accursed Q and possibly prevent Yokohama from falling into mass destruction.

They (Chuuya) dispatch the first lineup of guards with laughable ease, and then Lovecraft decides to wake up and there’s really no more ease to laugh at.

They try some strategies that Dazai already knows will fail, and he casually shoves Chuuya towards their only ticket out of this situation.

The howl of the winds when Corruption activates tear trees from their roots, and Dazai watches the show with utmost interest. It has been, after all, a good 4 years since he last saw the hat rack, and with that, it has been a good 4 years since he’s seen Corruption. Chuuya shrieks unearthly shrieks when he summons the writhing mass of gravity, Arahabaki straining to leave its host and wreak havoc upon the world. Red dances across the skies and Chuuya’s skin, streaks that almost take Dazai’s breath away.

Dazai delays for as long as he possibly can, lets the odds of survival drop lower and lower still, before he finally activates the bomb and lets Chuuya take care of the rest.

“You’ll take me back to the extraction site...”

Chuuya’s smirk is painful and bloodstained, punching Dazai weakly in the chest before he finally loses the battle against sleep and falls against Dazai, unconscious.

Dazai sits there for a long time, Chuuya’s head in his lap and the remains of the forest around them. One hand rests awkwardly on top of Chuuya’s curls, and Dazai knows exactly what the pounding in his chest means.

“Silly, I can’t love.”

He says it in a whisper, and he’s almost terrified, the most terrified he’s been in a long, long, time.

Dazai leaves Chuuya in the clearing, but folds up the jacket and gloves before he leaves, smoothing out the creases in the silken fabric.

He leaves no message but the untouched hat, placed neatly on top of the pile.

They’re 23.

The Decay of Angels have descended upon the world, and they bring with them countless Rats that almost overwhelm them with sheer numbers.

Yet again, the Port Mafia and the Agency find themselves in an alliance, and yet again, Dazai and Chuuya find themselves on the same side of the battlefield.

Yokohama is in chaos, bodies lining the streets in a red carpet of blood, waiting for the next strike of the goddess to smite them all.

Dazai has not slept in a week, staying up to plan and plan and plan, to predict his enemy’s moves and then his own moves and then his enemy’s moves to those moves, and- and it shows in the bags under his eyes, the tremor of his hand, the shake of the marker that falls from his grasp one too many times.

Kunikida decides that Dazai is more use sleeping than doing work, and when Dazai refuses to sleep, Kunikida tells him to at least take a break.

Dazai takes a walk.

He literally runs into Chuuya, parrying against an entire mob of Rats and whatever civilians the Decay of Angels managed to claim and control.

The past weeks have been hell for the entire of Yokohama, and it shows in Chuuya's struggle against what normally would have been an easy job.

Chuuya takes one look at Dazai, yells “Shitty mackerel!” and activates Corruption right there and then.

Dazai tries to enjoy the view of Chuuya mowing down enemy after enemy, but his eyes cannot focus and his legs cannot stand. He barely manages to avoid the gravity bombs and make it to Chuuya unscathed, gripping Chuuya on the wrist to put the god within him into slumber.

Chuuya collapses against Dazai, and his own legs finally give. Dazai falls forward, and they both tumble to the hole-riddled pavement, Chuuya’s back cracking against the concrete.

He lets his pain be known through a sharp exhale and a colourful curse, but Dazai’s mind is foggy. Everything swims before him, his tongue sitting dry in his mouth.

“Oi, Dazai-”

Chuuya’s eyes widen, his gaze locking on something behind them. In a swift motion, Dazai feels himself being lifted and his back slammed down onto the pavement, Chuuya twisting his body around his.

Bang.

Chuuya chokes and coughs up blood onto Dazai’s face, and crumples against Dazai’s chest, giving him a full view of one man, one remaining survivor despite the gaping hole in his side, slumping to the floor, gripping a smoking gun.

“Chuuya.”

Dazai grips Chuuya by the shoulder, desperation digging his nails into his skin. The fog in his mind clears, adrenaline pulsing through his numb body to focus his eyes on the spreading patch of red on the front of Chuuya’s jacket.

“Chuuya, god, please-“

There’s tears in the corners of his eyes now, liquid mixing with the bitter copper blood on his face. Dazai shakes Chuuya, because please, please, not him, not him too, never him, not yet-

Thunder cracks across the skies, and Chuuya’s eyelids flutter, his gaze slowly trailing across Dazai’s face.

He inhales, coughs, and retches, spitting out another mouth of blood, but yet there’s almost a lazy smile on his face.

“Huh... What’s with that face, shitty Osamu?”

Dazai’s breaths hitch, the vice on his heart closing tighter and tighter till it almost feels like he’s the one dying instead, suffocating in the open air.

“Guess... guess you can love after all, huh?”

Chuuya coughs again, once, twice, and then his breaths stutter, stutter, stutter-

and he stills.

Dazai screams, then, lightning flashing to let loose the barrage of rain from weighted clouds.

Please.

Please.

He hugs Chuuya close to him, warm blood still seeping out slowly, the rain soaking them both and washing away the red that stains the floor.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #219

“make a move and you pay for it; pick a lord and you pray to it.”

Do you actually love your grandpa? I don't really remember either of mine. I do from what I remember and have learned of them, though. Do you actually love your grandma? I don't remember my dad's mom at all, but I mean, I love her simply for being my dad's mother, who loved her. My mom's mom, yeah, even though she's. Hard to like a lot of the time. Do you have Facebook? Yes. What was the last thing you posted on someone’s wall? A birthday post. Do you have MySpace? My old one still exists, but I sure haven't been on it since it was current. What is your favorite kind of music? Heavy metal. Favorite soft drink? Mountain Dew Voltage is actually cocaine to me rip. Favorite food? Probably like... pepperoni pizza or cheeseburgers. I'm a full-blooded 'Merican. Have you ever felt replaced? OH, HAVE I! Have you ever worn false eyelashes? No. Do you ever regret making a friend? I don't think so. Can you cure mental illness? I don't know about cure, but you can certainly learn how to handle it better and alleviate symptoms. Is God good? Define "God." Cats or dogs? Kitties. Do you play video games? Yeah, but I don't play nearly the variety that I used to. Do you take medication for mental health? Yes. Can you really be racist to a white person? No shit? Do you have a favorite hair accessory? What does it look like? No. What’s your favorite type of insect? Butterflies. What’s your LEAST favorite type of insect? Larvae, like maggots. Disgusting. Who was the last person you Facebook messaged? What did you say? What’s his/her favorite food? Idk and I don't feel like checking. I rarely use it. What was the last song you listened to? Does it mean anything to you? "Thoughts & Prayers" by Motionless In White is a mood with my mad-at-God-24/7 ass. It needs to stop honestly. I've become so hateful about religion. Not towards followers, mind you, just the concept itself. I could write a novel on this, but I don't feel like it. Just me and organized religion don't get along anymore. Have you ever slept in a water bed? On a water mattress, yeah. How do you feel about having sex during your menstrual period? Never tried, not for me. Sounds messy. Does your ex have a job? My most recent, I guess you mean? Yeah. Have you ever slept in a car? Yeah, on long drives to like New York and stuff. What was the last term of endearment you used (babe, hun, dear, etc)? *checks phone* "Sweetie." How often do you use Flickr? Never. I can't log into my account anymore since Yahoo said "fuck u Britt," so there's no point. Have you ever been on a blind date? No. Do you have a crush on the last person you texted? She's my girlfriend so y'know like- Have you ever got into an argument with the last person you kissed? We very much disliked each other at first, so... guess, lmao. Have you ever liked somebody who was nice to you, but horrible to everyone else? Eh, that's a mystery... Juan was very sweet to me, but I know he had a bad rep. I didn't really see how he interacted with others. How’s your appetite atm? It's normal. I'm not currently hungry. Out of all the conversations you’ve had recently, which one has made you smile or laugh the most? Sara randomly and excitedly texted me to tell me "Welcome to the Jungle" was on at work, which was on the radio both when I was there and she was here, so she thought of how much she missed me lakdjsfkalwe I smiled my face in half. Do you look decent in your most recent photograph? Eh, it wasn't awful. It was for my school ID. What is one vacation destination that many people think is just fabulous but which you personally have no desire to visit (or revisit)? New York City. My sis went and said it was 1.) insane and 2.) disgusting. If you were five years younger but knew everything at that age that you’ve actually learned over the last five years, what is one thing you would definitely do differently? Go to the partial hospitalization program way sooner. What serves as the greatest motivation for you in your daily life? To earn a happy, content future. What activity that you have to do every once in a while that you dread the most? "Every once in a while," I'd say clean Mitsu's cage. She is such a strange rat. Enjoys pets, but being picked up is a no sir. When people hear what you do for a living, what is the most typical question or comment they give you regarding your job? N/A If you were left alone for one hour with nothing more than a pen and a notepad, what would you be inclined to draw or write during those 60 minutes? I'd probably write a poem. I know I wouldn't draw 'cuz fuck no am I doing so with a pen. If you could witness anything at all in super-slow motion, what would you want to see? Uhhh. Idk. Anything I can think of, like lightning, I've seen because of the Internet. If someone were looking for you in a bookstore, in what section would they be most likely to find you? Probably like, young adult fiction/fantasy, something like that. What do you forget to do more often than anything else? Lately, take one of my mood stabilizers. I need to get the box out... aaaand forget every day. I haven't felt any different without it tho so like... If you could teach everyone in the world one skill, what would it be? Compassion, maybe. You’ve been offered the chance to paint a billboard along a highway with any message you choose, as long as it’s only 10 words long. What is your message? I'm not spending time musing over something that serious lakaljdsfawe. Would you ever travel to Africa? Hell yes. I desperately want to go to South Africa on the Tswalu Kalahari tour. Whose house were you last at? Besides my own, my older sister's. Have you ever had a near-death experience? I guess this depends on how near death you mean. I've been in one car accident that my mom managed to make minor only by being a good driver; realistically, we should've flipped, according to the cop. My mom just acted quickly enough. Then I heavily ODed, but I was given more than enough fluids in time to keep me surprisingly okay. I don't know what would've happened if I hadn't told Mom so quickly, and I don't care to think about it. I'm fucking lucky and don't want to think about what could've happened. Have you ever met anyone who was overly addicted to a computer game? Tbh I myself could've been in this position when my depression was so bad, but then there's factors to that that lean towards it just having been a preference versus addiction. Idk. It's not a problem anymore so not worth debating over. Have you ever been fingered? That was the first cheat when you chose abstinence lmao. What do you do the most when you are online? Watch or listen to something on YouTube. What video game have you played the most? So in WoW you can actually type in /played to see how long you've played JUST that one character up to the years (or maybe days?) down to seconds and. I will never type it in lmao. Ongoing games are v depressing. Do you have scars you don’t like to talk about? No, those are thankfully gone. What is something you and your significant other do that may seem weird to others? Be helplessly and openly in love with imaginary demons while dating each other lmao (she's a Freeza fanatic). When and why did you last cry? The second day of school because of math class. When was the last time you drank? I think like... back on the 4th of July. Or some days after 'cuz I know Mom and I didn't finish the container in one night. Do you wear jewelry a lot? Just my piercings, really. Save for on my ear lobes because the holes on the left are fucked up, yay. I'm going to wind up just slightly stretching the first holes when I can afford a small kit; actual studs or hoops look stupid. Never wanted gauges until the holes got too stretched by the weight of hoops; now something needs to be there. Who in your household do you not have a good relationship with? My sister's (who doesn't even live here...) dog Bentley. I hate him and he doesn't like me. No, that doesn't mean I mistreat a pet. He's just a pain in the goddamn ass. Who in your life are you scared to lose more than anything? My mom. I don't know what would happen to me or how I'd cope at this time. Honestly, would you rather be single or in a relationship? I'm happier in a healthy relationship. Do any of your friends not get along at all? No. I mean, not that I know of. What are your 3 favorite internet sites? I'd be LOST without YouTube, then KM follows up close. #3, uh... Facebook or Tumblr, I suppose. Have you ever gotten anything autographed, if so by who & what was it? No. Well, I do have a little book of Disney World character autographs, but I don't think that really counts. Do you prefer Walmart or Target? We use Wal-mart. Who is your favorite model? Sara is a gd model don't even @ me about it. What have you done that is out of character for you? The Joel thing is the most anti-Brittany thing I've ever done for sure. I can't think of anything more current that stands out, unless it's- NO WAIT, this was quite a few months ago, but I firmly stood against an opinion my psychiatrist made known. He's very talkative and open as hell about his beliefs in current events, and he said something about pit bulls where I was just like... um no sir. I wasn't going to be rude though to HIM of all people so just said I don't base dogs by their breed and shut up. Awkward silence and we moved on. What do you feel strong enough to protest about? LGBT acceptance and rights. I already protest by having given up Chic-fil-a okay I care y'all. What’s the biggest blooper you’ve never lived down? Who knows... What is the best thing you have done just because you were told you can’t? Idk. I'm lucky to not have really been told that... What are you most thankful for? Thinking it all over, probably being born where I am. Boy is America FUCKED UP in some places, but boy would I be in a MUCH worse place if I was born in, say, North Korea, between my mental issues, sexuality, and opinions that can go to either end of the spectrum. How do you feel about thrift shops or flea markets? I love them! You can find the coolest, wackiest shit. What do you like to put gravy on? I hate gravy with a passion. Have you ever gone canoeing/kayaking? No. What one thing in particular makes you feel good about yourself? I genuinely think I'm a nice person that has other's well-being in mind. What is priceless to you? Love, in any form. What is one thing you know about your family history you’re proud of? Uhhh. I guess more than anything, I'm proud of my distant cousin for her unwavering love for and loyalty to her daughter when it came to escaping the Middle East and her dictatorial husband. Read Not Without My Daughter, it's great. Do you keep a budget? I don't have an income. What makes you feel rested and refreshed? Rested, a good night's sleep following being truly exhausted. Refreshed, oh man, gimme a hot, long shower. Who depends on you the most? Nobody. Could you ever be someone’s bodyguard? Hell no. Has one of your biggest fears come true? Yes. I was entirely convinced the world would literally end if Jason left. That night still doesn't feel real. Have you ever let your mom or significant other fight a battle for you? Colleen and Mom once fought after I'd ignored her, so I guess? It wasn't my wish or anything though for her to do it; Mom had shit to say by her own volition, and I wasn't going to tell my mother "no you can't do that." Did you create a checklist for your ideal spouse? No? Have you ever ridden on a subway or train and what did you like about it? Nope. Do you have to experience something to fully understand it? Yes. What embarrasses you instantly? A LOT A LOT A LOT!!!!! It is SO easy to embarrass me, including second-handedly. Do you think you could be a firefighter, why/why not? Hell no, I'm most certainly not in the necessary shape, and quite honestly I'm not that willing to risk my life for random people that could be assholes. What do you think should be censored? Idk. I have mixed feelings on censorship, no matter how stupid it seems. Eh... yeah, idk. Are you related to anyone famous or historical, if so who? Queen Victoria and William Clark. Would you ever donate a kidney to anyone, and who? Depends on who and obviously if we're even compatible. Have you ever fired a gun? No. What is the main quality you think makes a great parent? Sincerely caring for them, probably. Who is a female role model in your life? My mom, in some ways. What childhood dreams have you neglected? Jfc a lot, I don't want to think about it. What do you have trouble seeing clearly in your mind? My future, honestly. It's hard picturing my elderly days. Like I'm not suicidal anymore, I just don't really... realize I'll get there, I guess. I can't picture myself being old and alive. Would you travel to space if possible? No, too long of a trip. Are you an optimistic person? I'm a realist. Do you consider yourself more realistic OR idealistic? ^ Have you ever felt bi-curious? I started out accepting myself as bisexual through thinking myself as bicurious. I quickly realized "bisexual" was more accurate than "bicurious," but it was an easier thing to shift acceptance towards in regards to yourself when you thought you were straight for 21 years. Are you a fan of U.S. President Donald Trump? No sir. I agree with some of his ideas, but I hate him as an asshole person without a trace of manners. Do you know anyone with autism, mood disorders or learning disabilities? Multiple. I'd assume most people know someone who fits at least one criterion there. Are you green-eyed? Not exactly, but they definitely have a green hue to them. They're a gray/green blue. Would you consider UFC fighting and WWE real sports events? I think it's beyond debate that a lot of it is staged, but I mean, I guess to a degree? You still have to fight. It's physical exertion. Have you ever had an immediate relative pass away of cancer? No. Wait. I can't remember if my grandmother had cancer or not... but I don't think so. She was just old. Would you rather work in an office, warehouse or on a retail shop floor? An office, definitely. In my work-hunting as well as actual work experience, office work is probably the only job I could actually do that doesn't require a degree... Do you have a favorite wild animal? Why? You can't know me and not be fully aware meerkats are my favorite animal. Why? Ho boy. I love social species, and meerkats have such strong personalities, and holy shit are those little things brave as fuck. They're so GOSH DARN CUTE!!!! too, and their loyalty to each other is astounding. I love how playful and curious the little guys are, and... just wow okay, I could write an actual essay on how I adore meerkats so goddamn much. Do you have any unusual, uncommon phobias? I'm sure there are other people afraid of whale sharks, but I don't think it's common? And is an actual phobia of pregnancy uncommon? Idk. Do you prefer Android or iPhone? I hate my Android. I've had an iPhone in the past, and it was great. Are you a fan of sweet, sour, salty, or savory snacks? All, depending on my mood. Most often I'd say I like sweet. Do you believe climate change is real? We can't be friends if you don't. Do you believe in evolution OR creationism? Evolution. Do you think people can really predict the future? Nah. Have you been to a lot of shrinks? I hate that word. Just call them therapists. But yeah. How often do you clean your room? Not often enough. I need to dust... Any movies coming out soon that you want to see? I DESPERATELY wanna see the "Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark" one. Those books were my CHILDHOOD. What was the last fear you overcame? I don't know about totally overcame, but vocational rehab helped me quite a bit with answering the phone to numbers I didn't recognize. Have you ever hurt yourself trying to crack a body part? No, nothing on me really cracks. Well no, both my big toes do, but no, I haven't hurt myself trying to crack them. What’s the worst part about winter? The days where it's cold BUT ALSO WINDY asdkljfaklwej;awe Summer? It's too fucking hot and probably humid, too. Spring? POLLEN. Fall? Literally nothing. :') Are you allergic to anything? Pollen and silver. How many times have you changed a diaper in your life? Like, once. Which country has the most fascinating culture? Oh boy, idk. Who does your favorite song? Idrk what my current favorite song is. I say my all-time fave is "False Flags" by Massive Attack, but it's not something I constantly wanna listen to. I guess you could maybe say it's "Headache" by Motionless In White; I play and repeat that a lot. I've really been digging them lately. When was the last time you wore makeup? Shit dude, idk. Months ago. Do you prefer males or females or both? I'm generally afraid of men, but I mean, I don't "prefer" one over the other if he's a good guy. Where in your town do you go when you wanna chill with a few friends? I don't have any friends I go out with. But there's nowhere to go here anyway. Where’s the best place to get coffee? N/A Have you ever seen someone struggle with an addiction? My dad was an alcoholic, but he's recovered. He loved (idk if he still does it) fantasy football, too. Pretty sure I got my addictive personality from him, lol. When was the last time someone gave you flowers? Early 2017. Do you like cranberry juice? omfg NO. Do you play any zombie-killing video games? The Last of Us is fucking dope, but I didn't finish it before my PS3 broke. :'( I like the Resident Evil series too, and some of those games have zombies or similar creatures. And The Walking Dead game tears my heart out every fucking season. What is the dominating genre on your mp3 player/iPod? Varying forms of metal. Do you have a book shelf? No. What website do you spend way too much time on? YouTube is ALWAYS open. I constantly either watch let's players and a few other kinds of YTers, moving windows around so I can see it and do other things, or listen to music. Do you like wind chimes? I LOVE!!!!!!!!!! WINDCHIMES!!!!!!!!!! Do you have a fetish? No. Do you have a pet fish? No. Don't get me wrong, they're beautiful and calming, but not worth it for me personally. They don't have much of a personality at all, and cleaning a tank so much for just a fish isn't for me. Do you like kettle corn? (That sweet and salty popcorn) Yessss! Do you enjoy classic rock? Hell yeah, man. When was the last time you went for a walk, just cause? Not since I was at Sara's last. Do you listen to Type O Negative? No. Do you have any fillings or cavities? Yeah. Have you gotten your wisdom teeth taken out yet? No, and thankfully I don't need to. One was very close to needing to be, but it has just enough room. Do you actually read privacy policies when signing up for new things? "Depending on what I’m signing up for, I’m likely to at least skim it." <<< This. Did you have a lot of birthday parties when you were younger? If so, did you invite everyone in the class? I had a party every year up to... idk what age. And no, I only invited friends. Do you like when things are color coordinated? Yes. Have you ever participated in one of those “guess how many jelly beans, mints, etc. are in this jar!” contest? if so, have you ever won? Yeah, and no. Can you juggle? Nope. Have you ever mistaken a ringing phone on TV or in a movie for your own? Who hasn't? How often do you use bobby pins? Never. My hair's really too short for them. Well, I'd probably pin the right side up if I was doing something like cleaning. Do you live on an avenue, road, drive or something else? Road. What are your school colors? Blue and white. Have you ever taken a picture with Santa when you were little? Yeah. Have you ever rolled down a steep, grassy hill for fun? Actually yeah. Do you like Nerds candy? Yes I do.

[cjostrander]

Nine Inch Nails: Bad Witch

Hello everyone! I’ve ben facing some technical issues with my laptop which has been preventing me from putting out reviews last month. Since then i’ve been able to still get my hands on a bunch of newer albums and really need to start scratching a couple of them off of my list. This album is the final of what was supposed to be a trilogy of eps from Nine Inch Nails. From what i read the only reason that they decided to instead turn this into a full album was due to how thrown aside eps tend to be on promotion sites. He definitely isn’t wrong in that regard since they dont usually hold the same excitement on a listener as an album does when discovered. This one from what i have heard is going to be a very unique one in the band’s catalog. Trent Reznor actually has a second official band-mate in his group by the name of Atticus Ross. Musically it does have familiar Nine Inch Nails elements but seems to make the effort to display similarities to other artists that were in his field or admired. You will notice heavy comparisons to David Bowie’s final album “Blackstar” (i reviewed) and Radiohead. The David Bowie similarity was intentional due to his admiration of the late singer and previous work with him in the 90′s. Bare in mind also that due to its initial intention to be an ep; this is the shortest NIN album with only 6 songs and roughly a half hour of runtime. Knowing how full the band’s albums can feel at times; this may not be a bad thing but time will tell.

Shit Mirror: This opening track starts off with some aggressive loops or guitars; never sure which is which with this band lol. It warms itself with its initial rhythm and Trent infuses himself into the mix with a much rougher and muffled vocal style than usual and seems to give a very cluttered feeling on the song. The drums and interesting brass elements certainly will provide the listener with quite a bit of activity to focus on. The song does well in the notion that it establishes a nice party atmosphere for somebody to play in the background. Because of this it won’t capture heavy emphasis from the listener when focused directly on. I still find it to be an interesting opener for this album/ep experiment and hopefully leaves the listener with enough of an impression to carry further on into the album. 7/10

Ahead of Ourselves: Now this song begins with electronic drum loops and immediately screams 90′s era David Bowie. The reviews that i have read have referenced Bowie’s album Outside in particular but i personally feel this initial opening is more in tune to Bowie’s follow work Earthing (which i reviewed). This open seems energetic but pretty simple and Trent centers himself in the back of the mix to further build the electronic rhythm of the song. Brass makes an interesting return to this song but the strongest attention grabber is the aggressive drum bashing combined with harsh screams from Trent. This segment will bring fond memories of Trent’s aggressively gloomy style from his 90′s heyday. Like the previous song it comes off as a song meant to be played in the background rather than as a front and center piece. Definitely not a bad thing but if you were to try and over analyze it; the song is going to feel like it is more empty or formulaic than you may like. If you don’t like that kind of mindset then getting into this band may not be for you yet. I would still check Downward Spiral and With Teeth first before giving it a final decision; but so far this album should be complex enough to get you thinking about his work in general. 8/10

Play the Goddamned Part: This track begins with a low bass rhythm and a rather groovy electronic loop that will make it very interesting to dance along to and enjoy a drink over. Brass fades its way in much more blatantly than on the past songs and will bring further David Bowie elements into the album. This brass component is a very strong element in Bowie’s last album Blackstar so if you like this then make sure to check it out. This is an instrumental piece as well so you will definitely find yourself treated to a much stronger focus on complex instrumentals. I actually really like that he decided to bring brass here because his give’s then band slightly fresher sound and exposes a longtime fan to something risky and new; even if you can point out a few very blunt comparisons. 8/10

God Break Down the Door (Single): Now this is the first and probably only single for the album. Electronic loops and strong jazz drumming begins the song off on an energetic note. You almost don’t even notic that this the start of another song since this sounds like a natural progression of the last song so it gives a nice sense of unknowing fluidity to both songs. Trent experiments with a vocal style that bares elements of big band vocals (think Frank Sinatra) but is most likely another throwback to David Bowie’s style since it is very comparable to Bowie’s base vocal style. This style fits specifically for Bowie in his late 90′s era up to his death since he seemed to take on a more classical approach himself (vocally)  during this period. I definitely wouldn’t have picked it as a single for promotional purposes since nobody would think to guess that this is a Nine Inch Nails song. At the same time though; it is a good pick for single because it is just that; a song that isn’t what you’d bring to mind for Nine Inch Nails and showcases probably the biggest risk/experiment that the band takes on this album. That alone should be enough to help give this album a little extra substance to stand strong on. 8/10

I’m Not from This World: This is the second instrumental track on the album and arrives with an eerie extraterrestrial type sound. It is very soothing to the ears and will bring the listener into a rather deep state of relaxation and contemplation. It is a slow building piece so be patient since it is just under six minutes long. The next song is longer at just under 8 so the remaining tracks on the album are going to take their time to make sure you notice them. For an instrumental i really like this one since it brings forth a heavy dose of tension into the atmosphere and would be perfect for a soundtrack to a thriller film. Between the break for the ep project and the last album Hesitation Marks (i reviewed) Him and Atticus were focused on a bunch of film and tv soundtracks. I Believe this lengthy collaboration is what made Trent Reznor grow comfortable to name him as an actual member in the band since everyone before him barely was allowed input on record and were just for touring. Call it a douchebag move for Trent but it’s his project and vision so if he wanted to limit the scope that others could participate; it is entirely in his right and surely they knew what they were singing onto as well. 9/10

Over and Out: This finale piece begins with an 80′s like electronic rhythm and almost flirts with the concept of jazz qualities, Loop wise it has strong comparisons to both Nine Inch Nails’s earlier instrumentals and some of Radiohead’s work on King of Limbs and their Kid A/Amnesiac albums (i reviewed all three). Other than that this one definitely is another slow boil for the listener to focus on; though the softer chime interludes are very soothing and will leave much for the listener to contemplate over. Trent arrives vocally after the first three minutes to deliver more of his Bowie-styled vocals; which are basic but play heavy emphasis on building a deeply moving rhythm on the song. Lyrically substance will be hard to find but it gives a nice push for the instrumentals to liven up a bit. After this it fades away with a soft closing and leaves this short album feeling rather full in my opinion and completed as such. 7.5/10

Overall album rating: 7.9/10

Well this was interesting one to quickly put on and take off of my promotional list. It is short but as i said before his lengthier stuff has had the habit of being a but tiring at times due to the scope of what they have aimed for. This one certainly has that effect as well towards the end but provides to engaging listening music that is good to carry about you day to; party to; and to some small extent contemplate over. I would check it out after having acquired a firm taste for the band’s style since this album doesn’t go out of its way to try and win new fans over. It’s simply an enjoyable experiment that Trent wanted to do and in doing so put out music that he simply wanted to make; nothing more nothing less. Tomorrow i should be pounding out another album for review since i gotta keep up on my anniversary sheet since i haven’t really scratched much off of it this year. Enjoy your day everyone and i will see you next time!

[sushigirlali]

Finding You - Part III (Reylo Fanfic)

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII - Part IX

Summary: Unseen forces move against Kylo Ren from within the First Order as he struggles to unravel Snoke’s deceptions / Rey must balance her relationship with Ben Solo and her dedication to the cause that opposes him / Leia Organa makes a desperate plea to an old friend in a last ditch effort to restore the Resistance. Pairing: Rey x Kylo Ren/Ben Solo [Reylo] [ReyBen] Continuity: Set directly after Star Wars: Episode VIII - The Last Jedi ends. Warnings: There is a lemon in Part II. Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or anything that relates to Star Wars.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has enjoyed my little story, and a special shout out to those who have left kind reviews. I really appreciate it, and they definitely motivate me to write more. I haven’t received any nastiness myself, but some people really seem to hate the Reylo ship. Still, I want to stay positive and not sink to the same level as antis. Fandom can be a scary place sometimes, but it’s okay to like what you like and not worry about the rest. May the Force be with you <3 You can find me on FanFiction.net as sushigirlali as well. Enjoy!

Finding You - Part III By: sushigirlali

I know forever don’t exist After this life, I’ll find you in the next When I say “forever,” it’s the goddamn truth I’ll keep finding, finding you

Rey raced into the Millennium Falcon’s lounge, panting hard. She had barely taken time to dress after breaking the connection with Ben.

“General Organa!” she gasped as she slid to a stop in front of her.

“Rey? What’s wrong?” Leia asked, looking away from the star map BB-8 was projecting.

“I need to speak with you. Alone. Urgently.” Rey said quickly. “Please.”

Leia got up, exchanging worried glances with Poe and the other surviving senior officers.

“Let’s talk in the crew quarters.” Leia indicated for Rey to follow her.

Luckily, the sleeping quarters were empty as they arrived, so Rey launched into a clumsy explanation.

“Ben is—I’ve done something without permission. He—Ben is returning to us. He’s choosing the light. I—I…” Rey stammered, realizing all of a sudden that she was talking to her lover’s mother, and not just General Organa.

“Rey,” Leia said sternly. “Come sit down, child, and speak slowly.”

“General, I told Ben where we are. He’s—" She started.

“You did what?” Leia sat up sharply.

“Please, General, please let me explain.” Rey begged her.

“Proceed.” Leia allowed.

“Ben and I are—well. What I’m trying to say is he’s leaving the First Order. Today. Right now. Hux is trying to seize control and kill him, so he has to leave immediately. I told him our location and he’s coming to Ahch-To.” Rey held her breath, trying to decipher Leia’s expression.

“Rey, I know that the dark side can be tempting, but—” Leia began skeptically.

“It’s not like that.” Rey interrupted. “I’m sorry that I haven’t spoken to you about this before now, but I was trying to protect him. Ben and I are bonded through the Force. We can project ourselves over any distance and speak to each other. Just as Luke did on Crait.”

“Did Luke know about this…connection?” Leia asked, stunned at the revelation.

“Yes, he did.” Rey acknowledged. “He tried to stop me from going to Snoke’s ship, but I knew that I had to in order to save Ben. General, he’s changed. He finally knows the truth about Luke’s supposed betrayal—”

“You know why my son turned to the dark side?” Leia looked shocked.

“Yes, both Ben and Luke explained their side of the incident to me. But that’s not what matters. What matters is that Ben has been able to look objectively at the events of that fateful night, and now realizes that he was mistaken. Ben knows that Luke would not have killed him. With this vital piece of information, along with Snoke’s death, I truly believe that he’s free to be Ben Solo again.” Rey said honestly.

Leia still looked extremely concerned. “I would love to believe you, Rey, but what if Kylo Ren is able to control you through this link, like Snoke did him?”

“General, Ben has never been able to control me. Not even the first time we met, when I was a complete novice in the ways of the Force.” Rey insisted.

“Has he used it to hurt you in any way?” Leia enquired.

“No!” Rey denied emphatically. “No, he’s been very gentle. Even when he’s angry with me, he hasn’t tried to harm me.”

“How often have you linked with him?”

“At first it was random, maybe every couple of days, but I initiated the bond myself just a few hours ago. I think I can do it again. I think he can too.” Rey informed her truthfully. “As far as I can tell, our bond is sustained through the Force itself. Like a spiritual bridge.”

Despite herself, Leia looked up in wonder. “That is a rare thing, Rey, to be able to hold such a strong connection without adverse effects.” Rey knew she was thinking about her dearly departed brother.

“Yes, I know.” Rey replied earnestly.

“Can you interact physically through this bond?” Leia’s queried, her eyes fixed on Rey’s face.

Rey blushed, but nodded.

“Rey, are you sure your mind hasn’t been clouded by Kylo Ren? The Sith are capable of a great many mind games. He could be using you, tricking you, in order to find our base. I can’t allow the Resistance to be snuffed out, not even for my wayward son, not even for you.” Leia said seriously.

Staring directly into her eyes, Rey covered Leia’s hand with her own, allowing her leader access to her mind at will. “I swear to you with all that I am, Ben is on our side! He fought side-by-side with me against Snoke’s Praetorian Guard. He killed Snoke himself to protect me. General, Ben Solo is in love with me.”

Leia’s eyes winded as she sensed the truth behind Rey’s words, seeing Ben as Rey did through her memories. “I…thought he was gone forever, after Han…but now…Rey, you’ve pulled off a miracle.”

Leia sounded so hopeful that Rey knew the General was finally starting to understand. Rey only prayed that Leia would skip over their more personal moments if she read her mind further. Still, the potential embarrassment was worth it to save Ben’s life.

“Alright, we’ll help him.” Leia conceded, wiping away an errant tear. “But I’m still not comfortable with putting the Resistance in harm’s way. There are so few of us now. Do you have a plan?”

“I think you and the rest of the Resistance should take the Falcon and disappear for a few hours. I’ll wait here for Ben, and will call you back when it’s safe.” Rey said.

“How will you contact us?” Leia asked.

“With the binary beacons. I’ll turn mine on once it’s safe to come back.” Rey replied.

“This could work.” Leia contemplated. “What is my son’s part in all this? Did he tell you of his intentions?”

“Ben said he may have to blow up the Star Destroyer his command shuttle is on to get out. But honestly, I’m hoping he’s able to sneak away without a fight. Since we know the First Order has developed active lightspeed tracking, I’m scared that he’ll unintentionally lead the First Order to our doorstep.” Rey said, voicing fears that had arisen once her senses came back to her.

“Obviously, you didn’t consider the consequences when you gave my son the coordinates to our safe haven.”  Leia said disapprovingly.

Rey felt her face heat. No, in her panic, she hadn’t thought about anyone but Ben.

“You’re not the first, nor will you be the last, to be struck momentarily insane by love.” Leia sighed, patting Rey’s hand in a motherly manner.

“General, I’m sorry that I acted so rashly. I was afraid.” Rey freely admitted.

Leia nodded in understanding. “Are you sure that you’ll be alright alone down here? I could leave Poe or Finn with you.” She suggested with a twinkle in her eye.

“I don’t think that would help the situation, but thanks for worrying about me. Besides, I haven’t, uh, talked to Finn about Ben yet.” Rey cringed at the idea of telling her best friend she was in love with the perceived enemy.

“I’m sure he’ll take it in stride, having just recently discovered love himself.” Leia responded pointedly.

Rey laughed, as Leia had meant her too.

“Now, I have to go sell this outlandish plan to our compatriots. I suggest you sneak out the back and get that beacon ready.” Leia stood, drawing Rey up into a warm hug.

“Thank you for trusting me, General.” Rey sighed, appreciating the comfort Leia offered.

“I think you should get used to just calling me Leia.” She smirked in that way mother’s do when they know something that you don’t.

But, never having had a real mother before, Rey just smiled back before taking her leave.

I know forever don’t exist But after this life, I’ll find you in the next So when I say “forever,” it’s the goddamn truth

Rey paced back and forth on the flat, rocky outcrop where the Millennium Falcon had lifted off from five hours earlier. She was beginning to worry about Ben. It had been over an hour since she had attempted to connect with him through the Force. He hadn’t responded to her call, nor had he tried to make contact himself.

“Where are you, Ben?” Rey wondered out loud.

Rey knew she was being unreasonable, but he should’ve at least checked in with her by now. Maybe their bond didn’t work at lightspeed? No, that was stupid. The Force wasn’t bound by something as technological as hyperspace travel. Still, there had to be a reason why he had remained silent so far.

Rey steadfastly refused to think about the worst-case scenario. No, Ben was alive out there, somewhere. She would know if something had happened to him. Leia would know.

So, Rey paced until nightfall when, just as panic started to set in, Ben’s command shuttle materialized in the dark blue sky. Rey almost fell to her knees in relief as the craft maneuvered effortlessly onto the landing site.

Minutes later, the entrance ramp extended outward, revealing a cloaked silhouette in the doorway. Rey ran forward as the figure staggered slightly down the gangway.

“Ben?!” Rey yelled as she drew near.

“I’m okay.” He assured her. “Just a little beat up.”

Rey pulled him into a tight hug, kissing his bruised face.

“What happened?” she demanded.

“I had to fight my way to the hanger bay where my command shuttle was kept. The other guys look worse, believe me.” He said with a savage grin.

“But how did you get away?”

“I remote piloted my TIE fighter to catch their attention and throw off the lightspeed tracker, then jumped to lightspeed in my command shuttle from inside the hangar. I didn’t stick around to see what happened to the Star Destroyer.” Ben explained.

“After seeing the damage Holdo caused by jumping into the First Order’s fleet firsthand, I can only imagine.” Rey said, whistling softly. “But where have you been all this time? It’s been over twelve hours since we…since I saw you last.”

“Well, I didn’t want to lead the First Order to you. So, I drove through an asteroid field on the way in case anyone was following me, or my ploy with the TIE fighter didn’t work.” He told her.

“So, that’s why you wouldn’t answer me.” Rey shook her head. Ben was a risk-taker, just like his father.

“Hey, I was concentrating on not crashing into giant flying balls of rock. I figured you wanted me alive more than you wanted reassurance.” Ben replied.

“You’re no good to me dead, Ben Solo.” Rey agreed coyly, running her fingers through his wavy hair. “I need you.”

Ben groaned at her touch, crushing her body against his as he breathed in her scent.

“Ben!” she yelped in mock protest as his lips attacked her throat.

He titled her face up to his in answer, taking her mouth in a fierce, heated kiss. Rey sank into his embrace, loving the unadulterated passion he felt for her. They whispered their love for each other between kisses, thrilled to be together in person, and on the same page, at long last.

Just as Ben started pulling her toward the command shuttle, the telltale sound of the Millennium Falcon rang through the air.

“They aren’t supposed to come back until I use this.” She said, holding up the deactivated binary beacon around her wrist.

When Ben didn’t respond, Rey looked up into his face. He seemed frozen as the Falcon landed before them.

“It’s going to be okay.” Rey reassured him. “I’ve already spoken with your mother. She knows that you’re here. They all do.”

Ben gave her a stunned look. “I knew it was inevitable that I would see her again, but now that the moment is here, I—I don’t know what to say.”

Rey moved to his side, holding his hand tightly.

“It’s going to be okay.” She repeated. “You’re not alone.”

Suddenly the Falcon’s exterior door opened, followed by the piercing sound of metal grinding against metal as the ramp struggled to extend.

“Stupid, old piece of junk.” Leia muttered crossly as she walked out to meet them.

“General—I mean, Leia. What are you doing here? I haven’t called you back yet.” Rey asked curiously.

“I got tired of waiting. Poe of all people recommended patience, but I overrode him.” Leia replied serenely.

As Leia turned to look at Ben, his hand tightened around Rey’s.

“Mother, I—mother—” Ben tried to speak, but he couldn’t seem to find the words.

“Ben, it’s okay.” Rey whispered soothingly. “Take your time.”

“Mother, I’m sorry. For Father. For Luke. For everything.” Ben choked out.

Leia moved forward slowly, her face pained but open. “I know, my son, I know.”

Leia raised Rey and Ben’s connected hands, enveloping them with both of hers.

“Because of this—because of the two of you—we have a chance to put the past behind us and move toward a brighter future.” Leia told them solemnly. “This will not be an easy transition for any of us. Especially those who have lost friends and family due to your actions as Kylo Ren.”

Ben flinched, but nodded. Despite his change of heart, there was much he had to atone for.

“I won’t make excuses for my many misdeeds. I have done some truly evil things in the service of the dark side. But, I promise you that I will spend every day of the rest of my life protecting you and Rey, and helping to bring a permanent end to the First Order.” Ben vowed.

Leia touched Ben’s face, her eyes glistening. “I’ve missed you, Ben.”

“Mother!” Ben pulled Leia into his arms, hugging her close.

Rey smiled through her tears, thrilled to see Ben reconcile with his mother. She was secretly grateful to Hux for speeding along Ben’s exit from the First Order. Every day he spent away from the dark side was a step in the right direction. And, as Snoke’s influence dissipated, she hoped Ben would come to embrace his new life in the Resistance.

Ben threw an arm around Rey’s shoulders as Leia pulled back. He seemed to need constant contact with her, not that she minded.

Thudding footsteps suddenly echoed in the cool night as Poe Dameron stormed off the Falcon, glaring at Ben the whole way.

“Poe, I’ve decided to let Ben stay.” Leia calmly headed him off. “He is willing to join the Resistance, at Rey’s side, and provide us with tactical information about the First Order and its allies.”

“Is that so? Then as a sign of good faith, hand over your weapon.” Poe demanded hotly.

Ben smirked at the insolent command, his free hand moving to the hilt of his lightsaber. Rey elbowed him in warning from under the shelter of his other arm.

“Poe, do you really think that’s necessary?” Rey asked warily.

“How can you trust him after what he’s done?!” Poe challenged.

“Poe!” Leia reprimanded. “You accepted help from a Stormtrooper with relative ease. Please try to have the same courtesy towards my son.”

“Leia, don’t be blind! Finn was a slave to the First Order who refused to murder innocent people in cold blood. I hardly think that equates him to this monster.” Poe shot back.

Ben held up a hand as Rey started to protest.

“You’re right, I was a monster. I’ve done horrible things. Things I’ll never be able to make up for. And they haunt me.” Ben said, his voice thick with emotion. “Please, just give me a chance to do something right.”

Poe considered him thoughtfully for a few moments before breaking into a friendly smile. “Alright, you get one chance. But if you screw up, I’ll make it my mission in life to destroy you.”

And with that, Poe went back up the ramp, whistling to himself.

“Welcome to the Resistance.” Leia said wryly as Ben stared after Poe in confusion and Rey doubled over with laughter.

I’ll keep finding, finding, finding you Keep finding, finding you

Ben stared up at the ceiling, his muscles aching from the day’s activities. Ever since he’d shown up a week ago, Poe seemed to be trying to kill him with manual labor. Not that he minded, it gave him something to do when Rey was tied up with meetings.

When she wasn’t in strategic planning sessions with his mother, Rey and Ben trained day and night. There was so much that she needed to learn about the Force, and not a lot of time to do it in. But she was a natural, just like him. Her raw strength and talent allowed her to pick up advanced teachings rather easily.

Truth be told, Ben believed that he would learn more from her in the long run. He felt more comfortable in his own skin, gaining confidence and perspective with each day. The guilt was still there, for all the atrocities he had committed, but it was manageable now. The first few days on Ahch-To had been nearly unbearable. Everywhere he looked, he saw the faces of his victims.

Shockingly, the reactions from his mother’s small Resistance force ranged from ignoring his existence to tolerating him. But no one seemed to outright hate him. And that’s how he knew he was fighting on the right side once and for all. The fact that these people were giving him a second chance, the same ones he had tried to exterminate not too long ago, meant the galaxy to him.

And then there was Rey, his shining light. Without her, he knew where he’d be now: angry, alone, and still in Snoke’s service. Instead, he had hope for the first time in years. He had a life now, with Rey and his mother, and the promise of a future full of love and acceptance.

As if he had summoned her through their bond, Rey entered the hut, yawning.

“How was your day?” Ben asked as she flopped face down on their bed next to him.

“Supremely annoying.” Rey sighed.

“Yeah?” he said, shifting onto his side.

“But it’s getting better by the minute.” She murmured happily as Ben began massaging the back of her neck.

“What happened?”

“Our supposed allies have finally surfaced, and they’ve been tripping over themselves trying to get back into Leia’s good graces.” She said in disgust. “I guess now that they know Leia has two Jedi on her side, they’re eager to jump into the sack with us again.”

“Sounds like it could get crowded fast.” Ben chuckled, digging into a spot that made Rey’s toes curl.

“Ooh—what?” It was hard to concentrate when he had his hands on her.

“Try to keep up, love.” He said with a knowing smile. “Has Leia decided who we’ll go to first?”

“Very funny.” Rey turned over to face him, lacing her arms around his neck. “She said he was an old friend of your father’s. A smuggler in his own right, but apparently, he’s gone legit. Something about a city in the clouds.”

Ben leaned forward, nuzzling his nose against hers, kissing her sweetly on the lips. Rey hummed in appreciation at the gentle contact.

“That must mean Lando. He’s kept out of the fray over the last few years, so his resources should be intact.” Ben told her, swopping in for a more intense kiss.

But Rey pushed him onto his back before he knew what was happening, flattening her hands on his and trapping them above his head in excitement.

“Lando Calrissian?!” Rey gasped. “But he’s famous! He fought with your mother and father and Luke in the rebellion! I can’t believe it! Do you think I’ll be able to meet him?!”

Ben stared up at her bemusedly. “I’m sure you’ll get to meet him. As long as you do something for me first.”

“And what’s that?” Rey’s eyebrows lifted.

“Come down here and kiss me.” Ben said sensually, pushing up against her.

“Oh, is that all?” Rey giggled, wriggling her bottom.

Straddling his hips as she was, the movement sent shock waves straight to his groin.

“Please.” Ben whispered longingly. “I’ve missed you.”

“Like this?” Rey lowered her torso until her face was level with his, hovering over his lips teasingly.

“Rey!”

“Shh…here,” Rey whispered as she moved his hands to her backside. “There, now, isn’t that better?”

Their eyes met, both intense, hazel against deep brown. Rey framed his face, running her fingertips through his thick locks lovingly, before leaning down to kiss him properly. As the kiss grew in passion, Ben gripped her bottom, shaping it under his hands, grinding her center on his burgeoning erection. They moaned in unison as the world spun away and there was nothing but the hunger they shared for one another.

“Hey, Rey, I need to talk to—oh for the love of—don’t you two ever stop?!“ Finn yelled, holding a hand in front of his eyes in disgust.

“Finn!” Rey growled, sitting back on Ben’s hips. “What have I told you about knocking?!”

“I did knock!” he retorted defensively. “Look, I need to talk to you, but I can tell this is a bad time.”

“No, it’s okay,” Rey sighed. “Just give me a minute.”

“Is that all it takes with him?” Finn joked.

“Get. Out.” Rey ordered, pointing toward the exit.

As Finn shut the door behind him, Ben laughed under her.

“I take it you haven’t spoken to Finn today.” Ben said, rolling his eyes.

“What do you mean?” Rey questioned.

“He wants to discuss Rose with you.” Ben informed her.

“And how do you know that?”

“Because he was in here looking for you earlier and wouldn’t shut up about her.” Ben said in exasperation.

“Are you two…bonding?” Rey asked cheekily.

“I wouldn’t call it that, so much as he kept talking and I didn’t throw him bodily from the room.” Ben denied. He had an image to uphold, after all.

“Oh my, you are bonding!” Rey cried happily. “I love you!”

Ben smiled as she kissed him one more time before getting up. He caught her hand as she slid off the bed.

“You can play therapist to Finn now, but tonight you’re mine.” Ben teased.

“Forever.” Rey promised.

And she was.

~FIN~

A/N: And this is how I would start Episode IX!! Hope you enjoyed my wordy jaunt through Reylo fanfiction land! I’m not promising anything, but I may have a few ideas for more chapters, based on what I’ve set up here. I’m not sure yet if I’ll publish new chapters as a sequel fic, or just continue posting under ‘Finding You.’ Please send me reviews, and let me know what you think. You can follow me on FanFiction.net as sushigirlali. Thanks, friends! <3

A little something extra!  Kylo: I can’t believe you sustained motivation long enough to finish this fic. Ali: Babe, you’re telling me! But Reylo is giving me so much inspiration right now, I just couldn’t stop. Kylo: It’s almost like you’ve stopped being a lazy asshole who starts things they can’t finish. Ali: I have no idea what you’re talking about. Kylo: You’ve been writing a seven chapter, umpteen thousand word Dramione fic for like two years. Ali: I can neither confirm nor deny this allegation. Kylo: You’re a crazy person. Ali: I can neither confirm nor deny this allegation. Kylo: *Throws up his hands and walks away* Ali: *Whispers after he’s gone* It’s gonna be TEN chapters!!

[writesandramblings]

The Captain’s Secret - p.80

"People They Fall Apart”

A/N: I now take the stage with my baton, the orchestra fully assembled, every instrument in position, and the music begins to play.

Begins the events of episode 12, "Vaulting Ambition." (Small nitpick note, I did skip/fast forward some of the whole figuring out the Tyler/Voq thing for brevity's sake; this is not the Ash Tyler fanfic you're looking for. I have no time to dwell on that plot. And while I dearly love Stamets and Culber, we're also not here to dwell in the mushroom forest.)

In other news, I'm going to print a copy of this story in bound book format for my own personal amusement. If anyone wants to offer a "book review blurb"-style quote, please do a comment or message! I'd love some quotes to put on the back cover. My goal is to send to print on April 9.

To be clear, I'm not selling this fanfic or anything in any way, shape, or form. It's just, I've written a novel-length work (two novels, really) and I want to hold it in my hands as a real book.

Full Chapter List Part 1 - Objects in Motion << 79 - People They Come Together 81 - Pineapple Surprise >>

The ISS Charon, flagship of the Terran Empire and nomadic palace of the emperor, did not linger to admire its handiwork above the planet Harlak. It was a warp-capable fortress of unparalleled firepower and destruction entirely equal the Klingon Sarcophagus of the other universe. Like that ship, which Lorca had enjoyed demolishing, it was an incredibly attractive target to the rebels lingering in the area. While the evacuation of Harlak had not been entirely completed, enough rebels had escaped to pose a credible threat to the flagship if it lingered.

Georgiou left Burnham and the Shenzhou with the strictest orders to finish mopping up any straggling refugees from the planet as the Charon withdrew to more defensible coordinates. Burnham and Lorca were to follow once the Shenzhou's cleanup efforts were complete.

Burnham could ill afford any more indulgences with Lorca when the emperor's summons was hanging over their heads. "See to it that he's ready for transport immediately," she ordered.

As the guards dragged him towards whatever they thought this order meant (probably the waiting agony booth), Lorca shouted at Burnham and the rest of the bridge, "You're all a bunch of lab rats in the emperor's maze. Lab rats!"

Burnham did not know what it meant, only that Lorca was trying to tell her to relay some message. She undertook the task of performing a cursory sweep of the planet for rebels, doing her best to avoid actually finding any, but three small craft were not sufficiently quick or smart to evade detection and Burnham was forced to watch as Detmer fired on them with disinterested efficiency.

While she sat through this display, a transmission arrived from Discovery. Burnham took it in the ready room. It was the Defiant files. Discovery had gotten past the firewall and decrypted the data. Minus the Terran computer security measures, the files turned out to be very small indeed and almost entirely redacted, but that did not make them useless. There was data enough to start theorizing.

There was also just enough time before they boarded the shuttle for her to send a transmission back to Discovery. It was a small, terse, seemingly innocuous message. "Discovery. Thank you for your assistance in bringing the traitor to heel. The emperor has summoned us to an audience. I will be sure to tell the emperor personally of your role in my success when we speak. Whether as a prisoner or a lab rat, Lorca will pay for his crimes." She hoped that was sufficient to convey whatever message Lorca intended by the words.

The lab rat received the message. She sat in her room monitoring the bridge and communications, eyes glinting in the dim warmth, fur wriggling in excitement. Even if the words were spoken by Burnham, she knew they came from Lorca. She pressed the button for the comms. "Einar," she said, "it is time."

Groves and Mischkelovitz were in the lab proper. In a sense, they were beset on two sides. As Lalana emerged from the back of the lab with her silvery color-changing thermal suit in hand, Larsson came in the front. "What are you doing in here?" Groves demanded of Larsson, to which Lalana said:

"Einar and I have very much enjoyed our time with you both, but we are now required elsewhere." She elected to speak for Larsson, but if she were being honest about it, Larsson had not enjoyed his time with Groves and Mischkelovitz particularly. He found them only marginally tolerable.

Groves had been relaxing with his feet up and brought them down at once. "Say what now?" He should have been in Lorca's study attending to the Allan issue of how to trap and kill a probable time traveler who might or might not still be on the ship, but he had opted to work on decrypting the Defiant files in a more familiar setting because Lorca's collection of armaments creeped him out and now he was just avoiding the murder-themed mancave until such a time as Saru called him back. Besides, he and Airiam had been remotely working on decrypting the files together and had gotten a rather good game of chess going in the aftermath.

(Owing to her inhuman appearance, Lieutenant Commander Airiam had been banned from her post on the bridge and Groves was entirely sympathetic to her ensuing boredom. There was no room for either of them in this universe. What passed for law here was barely recognizable to Groves and if ever there was a place that rendered bioethics obsolete, it was a universe where humans were as almost cruel to each other as they were to the aliens they viewed as inferior life forms.)

Mischkelovitz did not look up from the mess of circuitry she was working on. She asked, "Where are you going?" Her flat tone suggested she was only mildly interested in the answer. Whatever research use she had for Lalana was over with and done with. The only reason Lalana was still in the lab was the mistaken idea that Mischkelovitz's current active projects included the lului box in some capacity. That was the secret she and Lalana shared. There had never been a need for the lului box. Or rather, there had been a need, and the need had been getting Lorca to go to Memory Alpha.

"We are going to join the captain," said Lalana, stretching up and gripping the edge of the worktable.

Mischkelovitz went from minimal to excessive interest in the space of a nanosecond. She put down the microwelder in her hands and turned to face them with eyes bright and eager. "Can I come?"

"Apologies, Emellia, but that is not possible."

"Well," said Groves, putting his feet back up and returning to the chess game on his padd, "have fun. It's your funeral."

"What do you mean, funeral?" asked Mischkelovitz.

"Your brother is being dramatic," intoned Larsson humorlessly.

"Am I, though? This whole universe is goddamn deathtrap. Dr. Culber already paid that price."

"Dr. Culber was killed by Ash Tyler," said Larsson, leaning against the worktable and crossing his arms. Maybe he did not have Groves' intelligence, but he was far too big to be intimidated by anything about Groves. He also looked even bigger than usual in his Terran armor. "Or whatever he is. And he came from our world. Honestly, I don't think the universes are as different as everyone seems to think. There are murderers in both."

"This universe is ruled by a fascist tyrant and you don't see the difference?"

"Fascism and tyranny have existed in our world as well. That is why we have words for them. Humans are humans, and they are always capable of bad as much as they are good."

Lalana tapped her top fingers on the worktable in a manner that seemed thoughtful. "I thought you were a moral relativist, John?" she pointed out.

There was a blank look on Groves' face. He had considered himself exactly that until arriving in a universe where the moral relativity broke his concept of the scale. Reading through the files on the data core recovered from the debris field revealed atrocities beyond comprehension. Now he did not know what he was, only that the darkness permeating this universe was something he outright rejected.

"In any event, if we are to die, it was a pleasure to know you both," offered Lalana. "Please also give my regards to Macarius. Einar, if you will assist me?"

While Larsson gave Lalana a hand with her garment and Mischkelovitz whimpered about not wanting Lalana to die, Groves picked up his padd and tried to focus on the chess game. He could not. He stared at the pieces on the black and green board and finally dumped the padd onto the table. "Groves to O'Malley. You up, moron?"

"Good afternoon to you, too," came the acid response. The eye roll felt almost audible.

"You might want to come down here. You're about to lose the rest of your staff."

A minute later O'Malley was on site with a cup of coffee and, of all the incongruities, a powdered donut in his other hand. Mischkelovitz took one look, snatched the donut from him, and broke it in half.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" O'Malley went, entirely not caring about the donut. (Mischkelovitz put half the donut back in O'Malley's hand, broke off a piece of her half and gave it to Lalana, and began to eat the portion she had claimed for herself. Powder coated her fingers. It did not show against the medical white of her uniform.)

"Got a mission," said Larsson.

"Like hell you do!"

"Captain's orders."

"Oh, Saru ordered you on a mission without asking or telling me?"

"Lorca." Actually, Lorca had not ordered Larsson to do anything, but it was believable enough that he might have and not said a single word to O'Malley.

"You don't answer to Lorca! You answer to me!"

"I resign," said Larsson, carrying through on his perennial threat yet again. "Now I don't listen to anyone."

O'Malley stared indignantly. "I don't accept your resignation."

Lalana hopped between Larsson and O'Malley. She still had her filaments tucked inside her jumpsuit so she looked like a silvery bullet with a blue-grey head sticking out. "If I may point out, now that I am leaving, there is no need for your extra security measures, so Einar is free to resign."

"Wait, you're going, too?" O'Malley suddenly noticed Lalana was wearing clothing.

"Captain Lorca requires my presence," was her only explanation.

O'Malley shook his head. Children, all of them. "You understand you're not the sole reason for the security here, right? There's valuable research in this lab." Mischkelovitz's eyes went wide at O'Malley's words. Her brother didn't know the half of it. She shrank back towards her desk and debated going into the crawlspace.

"There is valuable research everywhere on Discovery," said Lalana. "I was the only thing that was secret about this room. Now this room is like all the others and may be guarded exactly the same way. But since you are here, allow me to say this in person. In the event we do not survive our journey, it has been a pleasure knowing you, Mac." She even did him the kindness of not calling him his full first name.

There was a horrible silence as that sank in. "Why... where..."

"Do not worry," Lalana said. "I have lived a very long time compared to you and Einar and I are not afraid of this eventuality. We will of course endeavor to avoid it, but there is no need for concern if this should come to pass. We are glad for the time we have known you. That we met at all in the vast cosmos was such an unlikelihood it is what you would describe as a miracle. A thousand million tiny things had to go exactly right for us to meet all of you and they did. Please do not cry, Emellia. Think of us in this moment always, as your friends. Now come, Einar, our shuttle awaits."

They made as if to leave. "Hold on!" said Groves suddenly, his feet coming down off the table again. "You're flying a shuttle in?" That was, he knew, an absolutely, completely terrible idea because even if the shuttles were mocked up to look Terran, they did not have valid Terran transponders and security ident codes and if the Defiant files were any indication as to the sorts of security measures Terrans employed, that shuttle was going get blown out of space the moment it got near the Charon. It would not hold up to any sort of scrutiny. "Let me give you a pineapple."

"Thank you, but I just ate," said Lalana, referring to the piece of donut. "Perhaps Einar is hungry?"

The word seemed to mean something different to Groves and O'Malley than it did Lalana and Larsson. O'Malley's eyebrows shot up. "Is a pineapple an option?"

"Of course," said Groves. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, I don't know, we're in a different universe, aren't there different rules of physics or something?" The light here really did seem strange.

"No, you moron, the quantum variance here doesn't invalidate pineapples." The point at which changes in physics would break a pineapple was also potentially a point at which reality was collapsing and there were bigger problems to worry over.

"Well, then, by all means," said O'Malley, and smiled at Groves. "I do so love pineapples, they're my favorite fruit."

Groves grinned back a grin stretched so wide it threatened to turn into a laugh. "One pineapple, coming right up!"

"I don't understand. How is fruit going to help?" asked Larsson.

"Oh, you'll see," promised O'Malley as Groves and Mischkelovitz began to gather materials from around the lab.

Lalana hopped onto an unused table on the far wall. She loved watching things happening and it was a very nice vantage point.

The sweep of the rebels was done. Burnham sat at the shuttle controls as it left the Shenzhou's shuttlebay and tried not to focus on the fact they were about to fly towards the worst possible reality she could have imagined.

Luckily, she had a small but encouraging distraction on hand. She joined Lorca in the rear of the shuttle as the autopilot took over and showed him the Defiant's data. "The file has been redacted, but there is some data on how the Defiant crossed into this universe. A phenomenon called interphasic space, but where that space is, the exact coordinates? Struck from the record."

She had to put the padd in his hands for him; he was almost entirely restrained for this little transport exercise and his fingers and head were about the only parts of him that could move. "All right, well, we'll just have to hunt down the original report. If the complete archive's anywhere it'll be in the Imperial Palace which is..." Lorca inhaled. "Fortunately where we've been summoned. Some people would see that glass as half full." He smiled at Burnham. Right now it felt a little like his cup was running over.

Burnham did not smile back. She was having trouble understanding how anyone could still find anything to smile about at this point. Between Tyler and Georgiou, she had lost what limited capacity she had for that expression of human joy.

She had, at least, brought him a nerve dampener to counteract the worst effects of the agonizers. She injected it and he reached out and put a hand on her arm, the only part of her he could reasonably reach in the restraints.

"Listen to me. You'll get the data we need on the Defiant and you'll get us out of there. I know you will." His face was so earnest, so sincere, so hopeful. He had confidence in her.

She couldn't look at him. Whatever Lorca thought he saw in her, she no longer saw in herself. She darted away towards the front of the shuttle.

"Burnham!" he called after her. Guilty, she looked back. "I need you. You need you. What are you afraid of?" There was a comfort in his tone, an easiness that went against everything Burnham was feeling.

The insignia badge of her beloved captain found its way into Burnham's hands. Its surface was crisscrossed with ugly scratches. It was the only connection she still had to the person she had been before the Binary Stars.

Those scratches were her fault. Everything, it seemed, was her fault. Yet for some reason Lorca had the gall to still look at her and see some sort of potential.

"Georgiou," she admitted. "Logic tells me she's not the woman that I betrayed. But this feels like a reckoning."

"Your Georgiou is dead," Lorca reminded her, voice taut.

"Haven't you ever been afraid of a ghost?"

He did not fear his ghost, he lived for her. She was less a ghost and more an impossible dream to live up to. A miraculous dream at that.

As the warp drive disengaged, the light of the Charon's massive energy core made Lorca wince and turn away from Burnham. She, of course, turned right towards the light. It did not hurt her eyes to see it. She slipped Georgiou's badge back into her pocket.

They would be docked in a moment and she had one lingering question.

"What did you mean on the bridge when you referred to lab rats?"

For a moment, Lorca worried Burnham had not understood his intent. "Did you pass the message on?"

"I did."

He sat in somber silence a moment. "Just letting someone on Discovery know not to worry, I'll be home soon enough."

"Dr. Mischkelovitz?" The code had been obvious when she thought about it. Lorca was known to frequent Mischkelovitz's lab, a lab Mischkelovitz rarely left, and miš was the root sound for the word "mouse" in most Slavic languages.

"Very perceptive," said Lorca, choosing not to correct Burnham. So many times now she had tried and failed to guess at his motives and feelings. He could not recall a single time Burnham had guessed right. From accusing him of biological weapons manufacture to the Ripper situation to this very moment. All these months and she still didn't know him. Let her think she did, though. Let her think whatever it took to get them both through this.

As the shuttle came to a rest in the bay, Burnham thought it unfortunate that Lorca might have a connection of a romantic nature with Mischkelovitz. Not only did she know from Tilly that Mischkelovitz had severe social issues and was probably easily taken advantage of by someone with Lorca's charisma, Mischkelovitz was only three years older than Burnham. Lorca was old enough to have fathered either of them. Throw in the imbalance of power between captain and junior crew and it was exactly the sort of thing Captain Georgiou had warned Burnham about.

The shuttle doors opened. Burnham shoved aside her grief and strode out with a veneer of savage confidence, barking orders at the shuttlebay crew to attend to her prisoner and not keep the emperor waiting. Lorca stumbled out behind her, the emperor's guards pushing and shoving him every chance they got.

Neither of them noticed a tiny piece of debris left in the shuttle. It had fallen out of Burnham's pocket when she pulled out Georgiou's rank insignia during the trip. A tiny slip of paper with the words "You will be called to fill a position of honor and responsibility" printed on it.

Saru found himself running into more problems than he could ever have anticipated.

Lieutenant Stamets was slowly improving, but he wasn't out of the woods yet. The unfortunate truth was that he was still in a coma. Tilly remained tirelessly optimistic, insisting something positive was happening in Stamets' head, but whatever it was, it was not happening fast enough to get them out of this terrible situation.

The monster that was both Ash Tyler and Voq was having a medical emergency. Now that both sides of his consciousness were awake—the native Klingon personality and the human one that had been forced on top of it—his brainwaves were in a state of chaos. One moment he was Voq, the next Tyler. At this rate, there would be no tribunal, there would be no anything, because whatever was laying in sickbay was going to die.

Even if that person in sickbay was entirely not Ash Tyler, Saru had no intention of seeing anyone else die on his watch.

Then, because all of that was not enough, a message from Owosekun on the bridge: "Captain, did you authorize a shuttle launch?"

"I most certainly did not!"

Operating as captain without being on the bridge was proving to be a disaster. Saru turned to the nearest wall console in the corridor outside the medical bay. "Who is aboard? Open a channel!" The channel opened, audio only. "Shuttlecraft, identify yourself!"

"Sorry, captain, tried to give you a heads up, but your hands were full in sickbay."

Saru recognized the voice. "Lieutenant Larsson, return to the shuttlebay immediately."

"No can do. We're already running late. That fruit delivery cost us precious time."

What that meant, Saru was not sure. Then he realized it was human humor. The sort of humor Lorca often employed to diffuse high-stress situations. Saru would never understand that instinct. "What do you think you are doing?"

"Secret mission. You-know-who's orders."

"Lieutenant, if you do not return that shuttlecraft immediately, we will be forced to open fire." At the tactical console, Rhys armed the phasers in preparation. The action was pointless. Saru could not bring himself to command the phasers used against a fellow Starfleet officer, not in light of his determination to get everyone from their universe home alive.

"Ah, right, you haven't heard! I resigned from Starfleet. Again."

Or, for that matter, against a self-declared civilian, even one in the process of a stealing a ship.

"Beam him off," said Saru sharply.

"I can't get a lock," said Owosekun over the comm. "It's like his life sign is only partly there."

Saru realized what was happening. Larsson's usage of the plural "we." A single, unlockable life sign. Lalana was on that shuttle. It even explained that strange mention of "lab rat" in Burnham's last message.

"Love to stay and chat," said Larsson, "but my friend and I have an appointment to keep. Wish us luck!"

The channel closed. Saru stared at the emptiness on the monitor. The bridge was still waiting for orders. "Captain, do you want us to pursue?"

Saru wavered a moment. What was the right course of action here?

"Captain?"

The answer came. "No. Maintain our present position and resume standing orders."

"Aye, sir."

The next command was to open a comm to O'Malley, whose explanation was as unhelpful as it was clarifying. "They have left on the command of Captain Lorca?" Saru echoed.

"That's what they both said. Obviously, I had no idea you were as clueless as me."

"You might have told me Larsson had resigned his commission," Saru noted.

"Honestly, Saru, he says that twice a week. It's always been an empty threat."

"I am presently your captain," Saru corrected O'Malley.

"Yes, captain," said O'Malley without hesitation or resentment. "I'm afraid that's all the information I have."

Saru let O'Malley go and stood in the corridor deep in thought. He was not certain whether he had just made a mistake or not. That shuttlecraft was a risk they could ill-afford, but Burnham had not been in contact since that last cryptic message, so perhaps this was some sort of special contingency Lorca had devised in case of trouble. Were there other sleeper agents in among the crew, waiting for cryptic turns of phrase to rush out and execute other secret orders? Most likely not, but given Lorca had not informed Saru as to Lalana and Larsson's operation, there was a nonzero chance of something like this happening again.

In Lab 26, O'Malley and Groves exchanged a look. "Do not tell him about the pineapple," O'Malley said, white as a sheet.

Groves held his hands up and shook his head repeatedly. He had no words. Either they had just assisted in the execution of some sort of top secret orders or they had unknowingly aided and abetted a pair of transdimensional fugitives. Possibly somehow both.

Eventually, Groves did find words again. True to form, they were an indictment of O'Malley. "I'd just like to point out, where your staff is concerned, you are oh-for-two, Mac."

"Shut up, John," said O'Malley, but he was thinking the same. He felt like a failure. He had not technically chosen Larsson or Allan, but he was responsible for them and both had disappeared under questionable circumstances on his watch and now he was left holding the bill for their actions. In every conceivable way possible he had proven inadequate as a leader.

Then again, he had always known he was a follower in every aspect of his life. If only he had possessed the guts to stand up to Cornwell when she offered him this assignment. He always did what everybody else wanted. No wonder everyone thought him such a fool.

As he stood there thinking this, he heard the most familiar words he knew manifest in the room: "I love you, Mally." It was, as always, an attempt to cheer him from a morose moment.

"Just as much," he answered, voice hollow and automatic.

Burnham was left reeling in the aftermath of her audience with the emperor. The way Georgiou had beaten Lorca when he refused to bow to her, the promise of enduring torture for the stubbornly defiant captain, both of these things had been expected but still shocked her.

What she had not anticipated was the pure, unbridled confusion that followed when the emperor stepped forward and expressed her happiness at Burnham's return, eliciting applause from the assembly of Terran officers and bureaucrats around them. Georgiou had touched her hand to Burnham's cheek and spoken words that still echoed in Burnham's mind:

"Everything will be the way it was, dear daughter."

Part 81

[distinctivelibrarians]

Here's a prompt if you like/want to write it: Sleep deprived Jacob.

Thank you so much for this prompt! And I am so sorry this took me so long! Like… I have no excuses actually. I got distracted, then busy with school, then distracted again and I am just really sorry.

BUT If it’s any consolation, this turned into the longest prompt-fill I’ve done? Completely by accident, whoops.

Also, it’s probably more angsty than it should’ve been. But, I hope you like it!

cross-posted to ao3 here

warnings: alcohol mention (drinking as coping, briefly mentioned, not on-screen), alluded disassociation episodes

It wasn’t something anyone set out to notice. But, by the time they did, they were all living out of each other’s pockets, whether they liked it or not. They all knew far more about each other than they probably would’ve liked - and all lived with it the same way anyone does when stuck in close conditions: teasing, ignoring it, making comments when things change but otherwise, just leaving it be.

If Jenkins was nursing coffee, speaking to him before it was gone was a bad idea. Flynn had regular arguments with the Library, and it was best to just step out of his way. Eve would start fiddling with whatever was in reach if she needed to punch something (or, you know, just work out for a bit, whatever she called it). Sunglasses meant talking quietly around Cassandra for awhile. Loose valuables during a conversation or meeting were basically asking Ezekiel to lift them - for practice, promise. Jacob could fall asleep, anywhere, anytime, and wake up just as easily to rejoin the conversation.

The first couple of times it happened, there had been a couple worried noises - did something happen, why wasn’t he sleeping at home, is this really that boring, and the like - which, he, of course, brushed off. If pressed, he blamed working with his Pop at drill sites since he was old enough to know when to move out of the way; there, the noise never stopped, but if you wanted to function without heart-palpitating amounts of caffeine, you took what sleep you could. No one really pointed out that sleeping before work could’ve fixed that.

Eventually, it was just normal to find Jacob asleep at his desk, only to pop back up a little while later and go back to typing like he hadn’t stopped. Or passed out two minutes into a car trip whenever the team couldn’t be bothered with the Back Door. Or curled up in a corner in the stacks, books piled around him, listening to quiet music on a pair of beat-up headphones. Or tucked into a corner of a couch in the theatre, some random movie playing low - and that one had been interesting, since everyone had spent the hour up to that actively looking for the man.

It was just a normal facet of working at the Library. You refilled Jenkins coffee cup if he kept glaring, made sure Flynn didn’t walk into bookshelves, got out of Eve’s way, got Cassandra advil and tea, watched your pockets around Ezekiel, and occasionally stepped over a passed out Jacob.

Which, of course, meant that as soon as they’d all settled into the fine-lined rhythm of working around each other, one little thing was all it took to screw it up.

It wasn’t a sudden thing, which is the only reason Cassandra and Ezekiel cut themselves a little slack, later on. Jacob didn’t come into the Library the next day suddenly looking wiped and out of sorts. He didn’t stop sleeping at his desk from one day to the next. They still sometimes tripped over him between the shelves. He still popped right back into conversations as if he hadn’t just been quietly snoring, leaning against the window in the car.

But, sure enough, each happened less and less, after they came back from Oklahoma. Coffee mugs took up the space on his desk he normally cleared to rest his head. Trips back into the maze of shelves always ended up with him back at his desk. He was still quiet in the car - enough that if no one was paying attention, he might as well have been asleep - watching whatever landscape was blurring past the windows.

Jacob came into the Library earlier and earlier, to the point that he even tended to beat Eve in - she’d end up wandering through the Back Door, as put together as anyone was at six am, to find Jacob perched at his desk, empty coffee mug beside him, sparing her a ‘good morning’ and not much else.

It took weeks for the bags under his eyes to become obvious - and whether that was because it had taken that long for them to become bruised smears or because he finally just gave up hiding them, they still didn’t know, and didn’t really want to ask when it was all said and done.

Jenkins made off-comments about being able to go through the shelves without tripping. Flynn remarked about no longer being worried about waking Jacob up when he was arguing at the Library. Eve seemed to enjoy having a near on-call sparring partner in the mornings. Cassandra and Ezekiel teased along - and why wouldn’t they. Outside of the bags and sudden caffeine intake, Jacob was as lively as usual, as focused on cases, as likely to bust into a historical rant of truly epic proportions.

Up until Ezekiel caught Jacob curled up in the theatre again. He hadn’t even known Jacob was in the Library that night - they’d all split early, as a reward for finishing up a case with absolutely no problems (“A goddamn miracle. Get outta here before the universe decides to laugh at us.”) Hell, he was only there because he’d wanted to ask Jenkins about a couple of exhibits he’d cased a couple years ago - he remembered them being funky, and he’d wanted to double check a couple things before he forgot again.

It took him a couple moments to figure out just what was wrong with the scene - it almost looked exactly like when they found Jacob in the theatre a couple weeks ago: asleep, with some no-name movie on in the background. Then, he hadn’t smelled like a distillery though (thankfully, he was empty-handed at least). And he’d been actually asleep, not watching the screen with heavy-lidded eyes like he was now. Ezekiel made the executive decision to leave him the hell alone that night. And if he went back to check a couple of times, just to make sure Jacob was still there and still empty-handed, well. No one else was there to notice.

And up until Cassandra caught Jacob in research loop. It didn’t click the first couple of times she watched him get up from his desk and head into the stacks, only to come back empty-handed. But by the fourth or fifth, he’d started looking frustrated, bordering on angry, and when she’d followed him back, he’d ended up staring at the shelves, just. Confused. And a little bit lost. She’d stepped in at that point, asking if he wanted any help looking for something. He’d looked painfully embarrassed, but also so relieved it broke her heart just a little bit. (And just a little bit more when it turned out what he was looking for was on the other side of the Library.) He’d muttered a thanks and returned to his desk, not moving from it for the rest of the day.

After that, Ezekiel and Cassandra noticed more and more - after another week of sidestepping around each other, trying to figure out how to bring it up in the first place. Little things, here and there. More frustrated grumbling with his research. Fewer off-the-cuff history rants. More and more confused looks. A handful of nights where they found him in the theatre again (never as bad as that first though, thankfully). Darker and darker shadows under his eyes. Connecting everything back to him no longer sleeping in the Library was just that final push to get them to resolve to do something about it.

They both agreed that a subtle approach would probably work better - the last thing they needed was Jacob shutting them down completely, insisting he was fine and that they should just leave well enough alone. Which, he would. They knew he well enough by now for that. So. Subtle. They could do subtle.

“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?”

“This tea is amazing, if you want to try it. Knocks me right out most nights.”

“Has coffee just. Replaced your blood?”

“What, no comment on the work of… Donatello? Wasn’t he one of the turtles?”

“You’ve been working on that paper for awhile, maybe you should take a break?”

“Jacob, really. Are you okay?”

“What the hell, mate. What happened?”

Okay, so. They couldn’t do subtle. In their defense, they thought they could. They went in with the best intentions. And, in their defense, their flailing and Jacob’s subsequent snapping, distracting (he was rather adept at it, and if the situation had been literally anything else, Ezekiel would’ve been impressed. The man somehow managed to get all four of them to focus on an artifact shelf for about three seconds. Just long enough for him to vanish) and running away had gotten Eve’s attention.

It took about thirty seconds of her cornering them in the kitchen off the Annex for them to spill everything. It came out in a tumble that they weren’t just riling him up for the hell of it - that they were actually worried, that he was getting worse and they could prove it. Which is about the time they figured out that Jacob had been hiding it a lot better around Eve and Jenkins, go figure.

It took another thirty minutes for them to convince her that they could handle this. Why they were set on handling it themselves… well, that could be answered later, if at all. Definitely not the point right now. And they really only got her to agree with a promise that if they couldn’t, they’d come to her. Which, given their last attempt, was a fair enough deal.

Subtly talking to Jacob was out. Watching him slowly devolve into a painful to watch swing between exhausted stumbling around the Library and manic typing at his desk was out. Cornering the man during regular hours were out (Seriously. It was impressive just how fast he could get out of a conversation.)

When they finally hit on something that worked, they both kind of kicked themselves, because honestly.

They were both in the second floor of the Annex, late at night, brainstorming (and sidestepping a serious conversation neither wanted to have just yet by focusing on how to help the, you know, topic of that conversation. But whatever), when Jacob wandered in through the main door and down the hall. He didn’t seem to notice them, instead heading back into the Library proper - the theatre most likely. Both of them shared a look when he got close enough for them to smell the bar on him - almost as strong as that first night, which sent Ezekiel’s stomach spiraling for a moment. To their relief, he seemed steady on his feet and bright eyed, so. Small blessings at least.

They gave it a minute, having a silent conversation that involved a lot of hand-waving, eyebrow ticks and weird faces before they hauled themselves up and after him, neither particularly enamored with the plan that they had settled on, but having nothing better to fall back on.

Sure enough, they found him in the theatre, the wide screen already playing… something. Some 80s action flick is about all Cassandra can figure. Jacob’s dropped on the couch in the center - one of several Jenkins insists he had nothing to do with getting into the theatre when it became clear that impromptu movie nights were going to be a thing - watching without really seeing anything.

They don’t know what it means, when, when they drop on the couch to either side of him, he takes a moment to just glance at both of them. No distracting, no running. Just a wet, heavy sigh that seems to sink him further into the couch.

They don’t say anything that night. Not when the movie rolls over into another mindless action flick. Not when Jacob’s head ends up on Ezekiel’s shoulder for all of two seconds before he snaps himself back up. Not when he shoves himself up after the third movie and leaves without a word. (And not when he comes in the next morning and refuses to look them in the eye.)

But he comes back that next night. And just like before, they sit with him. They don’t comment on the wet, shuddery breaths he heaves when the movie’s at its loudest. They don’t comment when he gets up - a hand their way to indicate they should stay - and comes back with a mug of coffee, and two cups of tea for them. They don’t comment when he rubs roughly at his eyes and shoves himself up straight, even if he stopped taking in anything on the screen an hour ago. He falls asleep against Cassandra’s shoulder for two minutes before he’s startling awake, shoving himself off the couch and leaving in the next moment.

He comes in late the next morning, looking rough, and worn, and all kinds of beaten down like he hasn’t let himself look these past couple of weeks. He meets their eyes for a breath, when he first gets in, before doing a remarkable impression of being wholly dedicated to his research for the rest of the day. He doesn’t bother to leave that night. Just waits for Eve to go home, Jenkins to disappear wherever it is he goes, and for Flynn to run out the Back Door after who knows what. When the Annex is quiet again, he gets up and heads back to the theatre.

Some silent black and white film is on, when Ezekiel and Cassandra get there.

No one says anything for a long time. Not about how they both sandwich him in closer than they had the nights before. Not about how his breathing has gone wet and heavy, and how they all know that if he had the energy, he’d be sobbing. And definitely about how the movie is switched to something loud and bright and fast without anyone asking, just when Jacob chokes on a rough gasp.

“…We left the cave, right?” It’s a soft question, his voice small and thin like Cassandra and Ezekiel had never heard before - hadn’t thought they could, coming from him. They’re careful not to stare at him - though they share a worried, panicked look over his head. They don’t rush into the reassurances, both holding themselves back just that bit.

They may not be masters at subtlety, but they’ve both had their own share of late nights, heavy moments, curled around themselves and scared, so scared the light the next morning will be wrong because something has so fundamentally changed - nights in hospital beds, soft, cool hands turned acidic on her fragile skin. Evenings in dank motels, in unnamed towns, a sharp weight in his chest, sick curling in his gut, as he realized no one was looking for him - that they knew that rushing in would crack the air around them.

They also know that that’s not the question he wants answered, not really.

“Yeah, we left. Weeks ago.” Ezekiel reassures anyway, voice low and almost lost to the explosions on screen.

“We all did.” Cassandra adds in, just as soft.

Its another long while before anyone speaks again. Long enough that when they look over, Jacob’s eyes are closed and his breathing has evened out, but they don’t dare move.

“It’s too quiet.” Neither of them will own up to startling when he speaks again, eyes still closed. (But, later, when things are better, and he’s willing to joke about this, he’ll insist both of them almost fell off the couch.) “At my apartment. Here. Whatever bar I can find. It’s all too quiet.”

Ezekiel’s the one to recover first, nose scrunched up as he parses his way through that, and about to comment on the loud explosions currently playing on screen.

“Not out here, Jones.” One hand comes up to tap his temple. “I keep thinking.” He pauses, voice catching for a moment before he pulls it together. “I keep thinking. I walked out of that hole. Lied right to his face and kept walking. Kept walking right back into the cave. Had to, right? Everything’s too quiet.” the last word spit out like a curse, a hand brought up over his eyes, as if to keep them closed despite everything. “I keep wondering if I didn’t get locked in there instead. ‘Cause I can’t create anything past this Library Can’t sleep. Can’t get drunk. Can’t… see anything past this.

“You know. My phone used to never shut up. Any time of day, stupid times of night. I’d get something from someone - one of my aunts telling me how the damn door still squeaks despite her son promising to fix it. One of my cousins crowing about a new car part he got for a steal, even if he couldn’t tell his own ass from an actual deal. Fuckin’… one of the guys at the rig, bitching about the hours. Something. But these past couple of weeks? Nothing. I can’t… can’t create anything. So, it’d make sense, right? If I was still stuck down there.” He sounds desperate by the end - not like he believes what he’s saying, but like he almost wants to.

Cassandra and Ezekiel have had years to come to terms with their families. With lost little moments meant to be shared and instead, hidden away. With holidays spent with whatever pockets of warmth they themselves could create. With the aches and pains that came with tumbling onto your own two feet without a helping hand. With looking over their shoulders and seeing empty space where once warm smiles waited for them. They’ve both had months now to get used to looking again - seeing proud smiles and fond, if exasperated, eye rolls.

Realizing Jacob hadn’t been looking, all this time, how he’d kept one foot out the door and planted firmly in the churned up dirt burned yellow by the sun back home… made a whole lot of sense actually.

And also explained how they’d all missed this. Afterall, of all of them, he was the only family man of the group. Not in a healthy way, necessarily - both of them still wanted to go toe to toe with Isaac about a couple of things, if they thought they���d get within ten feet of him with Jacob hauling them back - but definitely in a visceral way.

Having all of that yanked out from under him, after finally standing up to the shadow over his shoulders, after twenty-plus years of leaning so heavily on it, on building his entire self off of it? Adding in what had likely been a week or two of rough nights right after, and who knows how many bars he hit, if he was talking about how he couldn’t drink himself to sleep, yeah, they could see the spiral now, clear as day.

There was another conversation, over Jacob’s head where he’d slipped down farther into the couch, drained and limp from exhaustion, that consisted of more faces and head shakes than was probably wholly necessary. But, another plan was made.

Eve never asked how they fixed things. Which was probably for the best, since, up until it worked, Ezekiel and Cassandra hadn’t really been sure it would.

It had been the little things really, after that night. Invitations for nights out of the Library. Conversations continued over a near never-ending stream of texts, updates about stupid little things meant to make each other smile and laugh. Inviting themselves back to Jacob’s apartment - completely innocently and still completely not subtle, but apparently Jacob had given up completely on shooing the both of them off - for movie nights, where they stayed up later than he did on principle, arguing and chattering about everything and nothing under the sun, not loud, but not doing anything to keep quiet either.

Days out where the entire team did nothing job related. Nights in where they ordered take out, picked an awful movie that no one had seen, and either tore it to pieces or surprisingly loved it.

There were only five of them - and only two who were acutely aware of the actual plan. Maybe three. Who knew what Jenkins knew - but, slowly but surely, that quiet was filled back up. Connections built up, threaded through the Library but existing outside of it.

Things weren’t perfect. They still argued and bickered. They all still ended up hyperfocused on cases and everything narrowed back down to the Library. There were still nights Cassandra and Ezekiel would go looking and find Jacob in the theatre - but they’d take that over the one night they’d tracked him down to a no name dive bar - but always far apart and getting easier and easier to pull him out of.

(It wouldn’t have worked at all, they knew, without Jacob actively picking himself up either, actively trying to connect with the Library and the world again - but they also knew, he would’ve fallen right back down if they hadn’t been there to pick him up and keep him going.)

So, no, things weren’t perfect. But they were getting better. Would continue getting better. The bruises had disappeared from under Jacob’s eyes. Jenkins occasionally tripped over him, asleep, back in the stacks. Flynn occasionally had to tone down his rants towards the ceiling when Jacob was napping at his desk again. Eve got her sparring partner back, at more regular hours - and one that could actually hit now that he was well rested and coordinated again.

(And maybe, eventually, the three of them would stop sidestepping each other and have another conversation. But, one break through at a time.)

[jazzforthecaptain]

hi I know you’ve just finished field work so pls dont take this the wrong way kay, I'm only asking out of love. Do you have any sastiel fics planned for the future? Regardless of your answer to that, tell me about your favorite tropes or just like, general Stuff, when it comes to both writing and reading those two together. Everyone’s got different tastes right & i think is always fun to see people explaining (or trying to explain) why they're into certain stuff

Oh heck yes I have more sastiel I want to write, don’t you worry.

I want to try some canon!verse scenes. I’ve spent a lot of time writing Castiel, but didn’t study Sam’s character closely until I launched off on the first draft of Field Work. That story was posted this year, but the process of finishing and editing it was about two years’ worth of work.

If there’s a story concept or an AU you’d really like to see me tackle, I’m all ears! Just let me know. After all, Field Work came from a random request on the sastiel tag - I saw it, and in a few minutes the scenes from the first chapter were in my head.

This ask tickled me so much, because I would love to talk about sastiel but I’m better at answering questions than trying to write an organized Ship Manifesto. So now I have a relatively narrow avenue of attack!

That said? I’m still gonna write paragraphs.

I’m busily working my way through the sastiel available on ao3, but I can tell you right now that I’m always a slut for Castiel reassuring Sam that he’s Worthy and Lovable and A Good Person (and for Sam to do the same for Cas). I’m also a big, BIG fan of anytime Castiel gets to talk to Sam about the Big Bad Shit that’s happened in a way that gives them both relief and bonds them, if not absolution (because sometimes absolution just… well… isn’t appropriate or possible). Castiel getting to apologize/explain himself for the choices he made that negatively impacted Sam, and vice versa, and each discovering that they’re still loved and valued by the other because they have a similar tendency to judge themselves more harshly, and fail to forgive themselves, while forgiving their loved ones even when the consequences of poor choices were horrific. Good God these two need a confidante and a champion (and a mitigating voice), and I love it when they find it in one another.

Also, it should be noted, I prefer to take my Castiel the way I take my coffee; that is to say hot, strong, and bitter af. I love it when Castiel is characterized as the soldier he is, with real doubts about the chain of command he came from and a massive distrust of authority. I love it when his battle scars are as relevant to who he is as Sam’s are to him. I love it when Castiel is a sarcastic shit who struggles to take orders even if they came straight from the Big Man himself. And I love it when Sam is internally rage-y, fighting his own temper and his own demons, when he’s drowning in self-loathing, when he takes zero shit, when he questions Castiel and comes back at him and stands up for himself (and others). Trust is slow coming between a couple paranoid war vets with PTSD and a Complicated History so fraught with lies and broken promises you could write a soap opera on it. And yet. Both of these guys are the grand fucking champions of giving people second chances and letting past offenses go - I think they need each other. To help one another heal. To remind each other that they’re not monsters. To remind each other that there are good goddamned reasons to keep on keepin’ on even when the skeletons in their respective closets are dancing the fucking samba. Being a good man isn’t something you’re born as. It’s not something you lose with a single mistake. Being a good man means taking responsibility for and the consequences of your actions, actively caring, and trying hard not to repeat past mistakes - and those are things they both already do. Red_River’s story “Light Up the Sky” has a fantastic quote from Castiel that I think succinctly sums this up:

“You are no monster, Sam Winchester,” Castiel told him, the words less than a whisper.  “You are not the best man I have ever known, but you try the hardest to be.” 

So, spiraling off into AU territory, there’s a couple things I really like in that regard. I’m a sucker for Magical!Sam (thank @awabubbles!), and she’s got a story series started where White Magic Sam accidentally summons a badly wounded Soldier of God Castiel (have I mentioned I love Soldier of God Cas? Because I so fucking do, omg). Just, you know, think about Sam tending his hothouse full of rare plants while Castiel (who isn’t healing as fast as he expects to be healing, dammit) follows him around like an irritated cat. Don’t touch me, don’t touch me, don’t touch me, wait don’t leave my sight dammit don’t touch me, wait okay rub my ears while I shove my face into your lilies.

Insert deflowering joke here.

I also adore non-paranormal contemporary romances (Castiel is a firefighter responding to a minor fire in Sam’s apartment building, aaaaand go~), high fantasy sword and sorcery (especially if it involves Castiel as a knight, have I mentioned I like soldier Cas? I have, haven’t I?), historical romances, and I hear there’s some excellent merfolk fiction but I haven’t as yet gotten to it. To be honest, I’ll give anything a fair shake at this point. I’m still discovering the fanfiction that’s out there, so in six months Idk, I could be begging for locked-room mysteries or something.

The thing I love the most about sastiel is how supportive the fandom is. Everyone is so encouraging about everyone else’s work - if you wanna write a thing there’s always someone else like ‘YEAH! Do the thing!’ And y’all show the fuck up. I cannot begin to express how much it meant that people were reading what I wrote and telling me about it. It’s renewed my commitment to leave feedback on works as well, because I want to pay it forward.

Sure, there are things I’m definitely not interested in reading that are out there in the sastiel tag, but I’m not here to throw down a list of Stuff That Annoys Me - I’d rather talk about the stuff I love. That seems to be the modus operandi of the community as a whole, and that gives me so much life. I hope it never changes.

Don’t worry - I’m slow as fuck but I’m not going anywhere.

[sonicmega]

Hm... I'm enthralled now. How did you come to do voice acting? Was it a sort of, spur of the moment? Or was it more so like a passion you wanted to pursue after highschool/college? I've also begun to wonder. What do you specifically do to change the timbre of your voice? I assume its different for every voice actor out there and, given your experience, you've most likely developed a method no? Lastly, how do you land jobs? Do you need a specific talent or is it more so fitting the voice color?

January 2007 

I discover that voice acting is a thing. My time spent on Neopets noticeably dwindles for the moment.

(Also none of these are specific moments that I think made or broke my career, I am just offering all relevant moments in time)

Feb/Mar 2007 

A man by the name of Deven “Mac” notices my frequent postings on Newgrounds - my fervent spamming, more like - and informs me about Voice Acting Club. Kira Buckland, 10 years younger, is finishing up school soon and has begun plans for moving out of Alaska to pursue life in Cali

March 2007 - 2008

Amateur Voice Acting AHOY! I audition for a shitload of projects, mostly fandubs. Mostly Newgrounds. my voice is terrible but my enthusiasm and energy is unyielding. Mac helps me with basic tenets of voiceover techniques and I also exhibit some pretty shitty behaviors (delaying submitting lines for weeks because I’m nervous about ‘doing them wrong’).

September 2008 

I get accepted into Western Michigan on a scholarship. I decide to major in Film/Video/Media studies because it’s 'the most similar to what I want to do’ (Voiceover) and decide to put more personal interests in as minors (Journalism, Japanese, Psychology).

The actual curriculum itself did jack shit for my career but it’s what I did during my time there that matters more.

2008-2012

Four years of college. I make friends within my interest groups but nearly all of my time is spent either in class or in my dorm room on my PC. OMGPOP is king of my time until Maplestory releases the Evan class.

More importantly, it was also the formative years of my freelance career.

I sign up for Voice123 membership. It goes horribly. Low ratings nearly all the time. I take on an audiobook job and deliver over-estimate by 7 goddamn months. Client is PISSED.A site called VoiceBunny also crops up; more suited for quick one-off jobs that don’t need 'the perfect voice’, just a suitable one. Extremely reliant on being at your computer at a moment’s notice.

I have no social life.

This meshes well.

Within college, I am constantly involved in things related to acting/voiceover.

- On-campus Sexual Health Peer Education group (skits and lectures) all 4 years of attendance. This also gave me opportunities to record voiceover for segments needing 'voice of god’- local radioplay group All Ears Theater (2 productions every 2-3 months, included a formal audition process and live performances in front of audiences for later broadcast via radio/web)- Audio Production class (as part of my Major) quick-learns me basic editing techniques, directly translates to my ability to do quickfire editing and turnaround now as a freelancer.- Continuing to do auditions for stuff for Voice Acting club. This is probably the most similar to many ‘Tumblr phase’ performers on here.Over time, constant exposure + guidance from peers/my mentor helps me to hone my skills. I still tend to 'loud-act’ things, IE using an unnecessarily loud/forceful voice for simple business narration,but I’m beginning to understand the intricacies of different styles (Commercial vs. Promo vs. character, etc)

January 2009

During winter break, on a ski trip with family, I learn about Anime Expo’s AX Idol competition. I tell my dad the one thing I want for my birthday present is funding to help go to this convention and compete. He obliges.

Summer 2009

I go to Anime Expo and compete in AX Idol for voiceover.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oUQpkyfVYog

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G-PwvyeM1jw

Things go well.

Fall 2009 - sometime 2011

Things DO NOT GO WELL. My victory at AX causes me to feel like I know what I am doing, leads to an almost 2 year stint of godawful delivery choices as I 'phone in’ performances like they’re just going to be good on foundation. My mentor is frustrated with me and at least one peer of mine actively thinks I don’t deserve the kinds of opportunities I’ve had over how hard he himself has worked.

2012

I graduate from college, determine that the only way I’m going to make progress is by forcing myself into the community where the industry exists. If I’m going to get workshops and studio auditions and actual non-online work, I need to be where the work is.

Summer 2012, 2 months after graduation

I move from Michigan to California

I have enough savings to cover about a year of rent if everything goes horribly horribly wrong (including losing every single freelance client I’d slowly built relationships with during college), but it’s obvious I need to find work to continue to stay out here.

I take a Graveyard shift job at Stanley security. It sucks my fucking soul out.

Meanwhile by day, I am still doing my freelance thing. I let BangZoom know I am now local. I work with my mentor on piecing together a demo both from good bits I’d done before and fresh content written for the demo, something I can show off to clients that is good enough to be worth listening to but that I can admit “I am new to the area and aiming to get my foot in the door for more professional work so that I can update my portfolio accordingly”

2012-2014

The Workshop Grind

Workshops with BangZoom, with Crispin Freeman, with VoiceTrax West, etc.

Through character archetype classes, I begin to understand where my inherent strengths lie (I already had an idea from my freelance side, but now I was able to confirm those strengths by having actual professionals go “You made great choices”)

BangZoom, meanwhile, SLOWLY works me up the chain of trust. I get called in for unpaid walla sessions just to see if I can meet appointments on time and follow directions.

Then unnamed 1-time characters in a crowd.

Then unnamed characters you can hear.

Then a recurring unnamed character.

Then at some point I get audition sides for something called Sword Art Online, for Kirito and Diabel. I initially only plan on auditioning for Kirito (dem Protagonist dweams) but have a last-minute Skype Workshop with Crispin about my auditions and get feedback from him.

He recommends I still try out for Diabel because it plays into my strengths and “why the hell not?”

I do.

2013-2014

Pretty much my ONLY studio work is coming from BangZoom, and it’s not frequent. I quit my job at Stanley only because I had some extra savings now and wanted to force myself to 'git gud’ instead of letting a safety net of money keep me from pursuing more.

But slowly, SLOWLY, through BangZoom auditions and the occasional booking, web strings begin to attach.

Out of personal interest, I do a brief stint as a QA tester for NIS America. This also happens around the time BangZoom is casting for DanganRonpa and Fairy Fencer F. My employment didn’t affect my audition chances, but it did solidify NISA’s knowledge of me as a voiceover artist.

I do some work for Ys: Memories of Celceta for a company called XSEED. Nothing comes of it until almost 3 years later, when a new localization lead named Brittany recalls my performance from Ys and says “I think he could be a really good fit for this dude named Rean Schwarzer”.

I land work on Killer Instinct through BangZoom. The director of that LOVES my performance, proceeds to slowly bring me back now and again for recurring roles on stuff like Gundam IBO and other projects.

Back to XSEED.I land my lead role in Trails of Cold Steel. Recording is at PCB Productions, who now knows I exist.

Everyone has a good time, I send my samples/demos to PCB (now updated further), they begin sending me THEIR audition sides as well.

At one point, a director for PCB I know well is collaborating with a studio called Cup of Tea on Akiba’s Beat. Kira has been working with Cup of Tea for YEARS but I had never had an opportunity to get in touch with them before now.

Director puts me in touch with Cup of Tea, who now knows I exist. Session goes decently, I tell them I am very interested in pursuing future work/auditions and would like to share my demos with them. They accept.For sake of time I will leave that thread where it is because I imagine you can understand what the underlying theme is.

Just a sporadic but progressive timeline of preparedness + Opportunity allowing me to expand my options.

Back to Workshop Side:

I continue actively pursuing workshops for other companies, especially VoiceTrax west. I sign up for “meet the pros” evenigns where I have a chance to perform + get feedback.

The workshop actively disclaimers that there is no expectation of getting work + it is intended to be a learning experience, but I go in with the mindset of “I’m going to leave them WANTING to work with me”.

With a much more thorough understanding of my strengths by now, I tend to do a formula of picking 1-2 characters I know I can do well, and one that is within my range but is relatively challenging. Worst case scenario I still leave a good impression, best case I completely surprise myself (and the host) and leave a lasting one.

This works out well. Said method greatly interests a representative from Mattel and one from Disney Parks (not the animation side, just the theme park side). I thank them for their time, ask if I can share demos with them/get their contact email, contact them and express interest in receiving audition opportunities.

Through one of these same workshops, I also meet my future agency, SBV Talent’s lead person Mary Ellen Lord. I do the same thing. Mary proceeds to circumvent SBV’s entire policy of “Referrals Only” representation to ask me to come to their offices to record an official application demo.Note that none of these workshop outcomes, or the workshops themselves, were things pointed to me by studios I was working for. This section was all self-driven/pursued (and also required me to be local).Since then, I’ve been continuing the routine of doing freelance work from home, sending out auditions for studio-hosted projects when the sides are provided to me, and generally working with my mentor when I have questions about approaching a certain character. Either because of personal growth or recent portfolio additions (or both), my success rate with booking new roles has kind of shot up; I’m hoping this trend continues for the foreseeable future.