#there’s probably more that fit this vibe
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svsss x spn au (hEAR ME OUT)
I didn't expect to start my day with these plot worms but, Binggeyuan who have temporarily moved to America after Bingge got into a fight with homophobes in public - eventually they get a nice house somewhere not too crowded near woods where Bingge can blow off steam like an overexcited puppy, and with enough proximity to civilisation that Shen Yuan is supplied with internet, food delivery and fandom nonsense.
And they meet the Winchesters.
YEA LOOK, MY SISTER WAS WATCHING SPN AGAIN, SO CAN WE UNDERSTAND HOW BIZARRE THAT WOULD BE?
I mean, put it into context - who knows, a freaky monster-demon around (probably attracted to Bingge's vibes?) which would make Bingge go out and investigate, normal cultivator job but now with military boots. And Shen Yuan, armed with a lantern, courage, and a nerdy desire to see monsters that exist in his own world, ends up investigating and running into the Winchesters. All I think about is that chaos. All I DIE for is that chaos.
- I mean, I could really elaborate on all of this, isn't it fun? God knows what season it happens in. Ironically. I think it would be before the S11 when everything was calm and less chaotic for the Winchester bros, but eh, I guess ??? I don't know where it would fit in, but I really think Sam and Dean would look Bingge up and down and say: "Fuck no, there's no way he is human."
Shen Yuan is just a neutral translator trying to figure out what the hell is going on around. YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD BE MORE BIZARRE? Shen Yuan having read the SPN novels Chuck wrote at some point in his life before going on his xianxia reading binge. Shen Yuan has some experience now with characters coming out of books, so he wouldn't see it as THAT ABNORMAL, but anyway, his levels of normality have been completely ruined by Bingge.
Could I elaborate on this? Yes. Give me a few hours.
#svsss#svsss au#svsss ideas#mxtx svsss#shen yuan#luo binghe#bingyuan#original luo binghe#binggeyuan#svsss crossover#spn#spn crossover#supernatural#dean winchester#sam winchester#i never thought i would use the winchester bros and svsss tags in the same post#but look at me now#i can actually see shang qinghua and chuck having a misunderstanding bonding moment#sqh: did your characters come from your book? oh bro welcome to the club#chuck: eh technically-#this is what happens when siblings neurons merge into a weird soup#svsss spn au
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Hello! I have an ask regarding everyday commodities (i think that's the word?) for a character with photophobia caused by albinism.
Her name is Lis, and she is one of the main characters in an urban fantasy setting. She has an older sister who doesn't have albinism, and I'm still considering if I'm gonna give her (Lis) nystagmus and/or dyslexia as well (nystagmus because apparently it's common between people with albinism, so I thought it'd make sense, and dyslexia because it's an idea I've been cooking in my head since her early concepts). She also learns magic on the course of the story, if that's relevant.
She's a very bubbly teen with a chaotic personality, and I decided to give her a very colorful design to represent that, and I also thought tinted glasses would both help her photophobia and fit in with her overall design, so I'm doing more research on them as well. I'm still figuring out how her vision is because I'm not familiar with the concepts yet, but I think she has low vision moreso 20/60.
I was wondering which other aids she could use on her day-to-day vibe. Any tips?
And thank you for running this blog!
oh, i forgot to give another information in my former ask (about Lis, the girl with albinism), that my character lives in North East Brazil, that is, in a very warm and tropical country, so maybe the accomodations she needs might change because of that.
Hello!
We do not currently have active mods with albinism, so I will respond as someone with photophobia, just keep this in mind.
Glasses are definitely good. They do need to be darkened, but if you want to play with colors you can either give Lis colorful frames or use a dark shade of a color rather than just black/gray for the shades. You can also make it so she has multiple pairs that she switches around to go with her outfits if she's into fashion - she'd be probably wearing sunglasses every day, it'd make sense for her to have more than one.
Another aid that's really helpful (and not really seen as an aid) is a big hat, or at least big enough to protect someone from the sun above. Glasses are good, but they only cover the front (unless she's wearing sport ones that go closer to the skin) and the light from above can still be painful. Bucket hats, sun hats, baseball caps, anything helps.
This is the part you take with a grain of salt because I don't have albinism;
Giving her nystagmus and/or strabismus is good since it's really common. Dyslexia doesn't have anything to do with albinism, but there's nothing unusual about a person having two unrelated conditions.
Assuming she has oculocutaneous albinism (there are multiple types of albinism, and not all of them involve the melanin of the skin), she will need to protect her skin too to not be constantly sunburnt. Since she lives in a hot and sunny place, flowy, but long clothes would be the best. Think maxi skirts or breathable shirts with longer sleeves. If she has ocular albinism, I don't think this matters since her skin shouldn't be affected. For the rarer types, you'd have to check her specific one.
The rest would be focusing on her as a low vision character, and a character who has photophobia on top of that - you can be able to navigate well at home where it's relatively dark, and not see shit when outside because it's too bright. So she might, for example, have to use a white cane sometimes, but not at other times. Or if her sunglasses are unusable for whatever reason (those break just as all other aids do), she'd need some other way to navigate. What does she do then? Is she so used to relying on her remaining vision that she'd need a sighted guide (I definitely was there because of my photophobia being really bad), or does she have enough O&M training to be able to use a white cane? What would her resources allow? Etc.
I'm also assuming that she's not the only magical character, but I'd advise you to read up on the "mystical albino" trope, since it's really prevalent with characters with albinism (oculocutaneous mainly).
Hope this helps,
mod Sasza
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Hello Peach, its the anon with the sexual ethics class here to share with you lovely people some quotes from my assigned reading that reminded me of simon.
Some context: These are taken from a book collection translating the work of St. Ambrose. The quotes are taken from passages recanting early christian (but not part of the christian cannon) stories about female virgins and their abilities or divine protection.
"You could see, by a certain exchange of natures, men goading a beast who were clothed in animal savagery, and the beast, eagerly kissing the virgin's feet, teaching men how they should behave."
"A soldier and a virgin - that is, persons unlike in nature but alike in God's mercy - were brought together so that the prophecy may be fulfilled... See! The lamb and the wolf not only pastured but were even sacrificed together."
The first quote just reminds me so much of simon, specifically about how he probably has come to think of himself as nothing more than a weapon to be used, a beast to be set upon whoever his master (read: Price) points him at. At the same time, when he eventually settles down with a bird he really cares for, he becomes docile, eagerly attending to whatever they may need from him. Still a beast in nature but now domesticated, just a bit, by his love.
The second quote gives me similar vibe, but for some reason I can only think of Johnny and Simon. Johnny as the sacrificial lamb (he will always die in the games, he never makes it out of the 141), and with Simon as the wolf, brought together by their Captain to once again be used as 'otherworldly' (government) forces see fit. Johnny always goes first, and while Simon doesn't die, he doesn't quite live ever again after his Sergeant's death.
Also the second one with Johnny and Simon reminds me of simple math. but in that case they'd both be the wolf, and Bunny as the lamb.
Anyways I hope you enjoyed my ramblings, hope i don't sound absolutely off the wall.
I did enjoy your ramblings very much, you’re not off the walls you’re lovely. I especially LOVE that first quote and agree with your analysis overall.
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Somno + blue lock men 21+
I got deja vu writing this hopefully this isn’t a repeat. Also some of this might not be technically somno but it’s def adjacent to it
Bachira
Regularly has wet dreams. He’s a clinger when he sleeps and your warmth just sucks him in:(. You wake up to the feeling of him rutting his hard on against your ass. The first few times you tried to wake him up but he is DEAD asleep. So now you just help him, grinding back against his cock or even slipping your hands in his shorts to jerk him off. He gets all whiny and moans even in his sleep:( his shorts get soaked in his cum and you can feel it all warm against your back. He’s honestly not even embarrassed about it either.
Nagi
His problem is he doesn’t always go through the effort to release his sexual desires. Like he has a sex drive, but is not always motivated to pursue it, which is why it comes out in his sleep. Again, he’ll cuddle up to your sleep, but he wakes up. Wrapping his big strong arms around you whining in your ear about how hard he is :( and how he just wants to fuck your thighs:( and you can’t resist of course. Makes the sweetest sighs and breathy moans as he lazily thrusts his cock between your plush thighs. That bastard will coat your thighs in cum and fall right back asleep.
Isagi
Kinda similar to Nagi, but it’s more that he forgets about sex. Particularly during stressful periods or if he’s not playing well he’s so caught up in thoughts about games he ignores his sex drive. He talks in his sleep and you’ll hear him whimpering your name sounding all desperate:( he will rut against you but really needs more stimulation to get off. Despite telling him you don’t mind he’s always embarrassed when he wakes up to see he made a mess of your hands.
Shidou
He just can’t resist you. He comes home late from practice and you’re asleep in bed in some tiny pjs that barely cover a thing. How is he supposed to ignore that?? Likes to finger you and feel how wet your pussy gets. He gets a feral hearing the little noises you make and how your body reacts to him, even in sleep. Gets carried away and gets a little rough, which always wakes you up. Loves the soft and confused little shidou?? You say when you wake up to him teasing his tip against your dripping cunt. And he’s just like sorry, can’t resist you, gonna take me like a good girl, yeah?
Oliver
Also just can’t resist you, but more so because he feels bad that he hasn’t been giving you enough attention. Sometimes he finds you asleep and can tell you were waiting up for him:( when he finds you like that he feels like he just has to make it up to you. Even though you’re asleep he still takes the time to kiss up your thighs. His mouth is warm and wet against your cunt, making your hips stir. His stubble scratches your inner thigh and pulls you awake with a gasp. Finding him looking up at you with those beautiful eyes just makes you melt - and your cunt throb. Just relax angel, he says flicking his tongue over your clit, gonna make my pretty girl feel good.
#blue lock headcanons#blue lock smut#blue lock hc#isagi smut#bachira smut#nagi smut#isagi x reader#bachira meguru x you#shidou smut#shidou x reader#oliver aiku smut#there’s probably more that fit this vibe#but my brain can’t think of any other rn
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Lanns n Starks lineups/costumes sketches that I will probably add other houses to. Tywin and Joff & the rest aren't here because I was lazy and Cerseis dress took all of my energy. Don't ask me about inspiration or historical basis for these
#I AM NO FASHION HISTORIAN!!! I ONLY DRAW WHAT I THINK FITS THE VIBE!!!!#the lanns are more or less fitting with each other but the starks are a mess lol#ned is wearing like an every day stark attire ig#cat is more Traditional Tully#for sansa i had absolutely no idea what to do so she doesnt really look connected to neither ned nor cat#her dress is just slavic adjacent. you decide what it is. def not kl or alayne stone eras tho#with robb i wanted to draw completely different armor than i did for jaime so theres both chainmail#AND iron chest plate(s) that look central asian a little lol#arya has her worn out dirty ass riding attire that was given to her by lady smallwood#and jon is nw but i couldnt think of shit so hell be probably getting a seperate post with his costume#all in all this was. something. i dont think im really good at costume design lmao so you can just look at their faces to see my Vision#of everyone there. yea okay thats it#jon snow#eddard stark#catelyn stark#catelyn tully#sansa stark#robb stark#arya stark#house stark#jaime lannister#cersei lannister#tyrion lannister#house lannister#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire#🧩
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round 2 of prelim designs for @philosophiums n my lovechild of an au
first year trio
#my art#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#fanart#jjk fanart#jjk atla!au#gojo satoru#nanami kento#choso kamo#atla!au: design#atla!au: art#STILL NOT SHUTTING UP ABT THIS AU NOT SORRY#shoves more concept art in ur face but make it the Adults#spent entirely too much time figuring out how on earth to dress gojo#bc i knew i wanted him air nomad monk-esque#but the LAST thing i want is to put this man in orange. in fact i wld rather die#so i yoinked raava's whole Vibe every1 say thank u raavaaaaaaa#debated the hat also but im so happy i went fr it it brings the whole thing tgt so well#every1 say thank u painted lady kataraaaaaa#and the fit as a whole turned out SO good im ????? do i LIKE gojo in this ???????? hina like gojo challenge???????????#who knew all it took was billowy robes and twice as many necklaces as any one man has the right to wear#as fr the others#iv never Drawn choso period so i ws neutral on his design until i had th idea 2 make his furs bloody#now i think its pretty metal GHFHJS#n then theres nanami......not a Bad design i dont think but definitely pales next to th others gomen......#reffed the lok metalbenders pretty heavily n didnt do much else.....might workshop it probably definitely bc i refuse to let him flop >:(#lmhs
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hi!! I think your art is *so cool* o(≧∇≦o)
do you think you could draw more moshang? either post canon or that au you did last time?? (baby mobei has my heart and all I own)
(˵ •̀ ᴗ •́ ˵ ) oh! how about return to childhood—moshang flavor?
don't question this king, shang qinghua, he knows what he's about
#just because junshang is going to throw a fit and doesn't know how to capitalize on a good thing doesn't mean mbj is the same#svsss#moshang#mobei jun#shang qinghua#mbj#sqh#return to childhood#he's finally small enough to fit on sqh's lap!#he's going to have sqh carry him *everywhere* until his qi evens out and he becomes full-sized again#maximize the spoiled prince vibe - sqh is going to be exhausted by the end of this he is not having as much fun as sqq#anyway the demon court is just going to have to bite their tongues and deal with it otherwise they'll have a full sized mbj come after them#though tbh this would be a fascinating au because yeah... just like with lbh there's probably enough people who'd be willing to gun for mbj#when he's small and severely weakened#but i love the idea of his throne suddenly being to big for him so he just makes sqh assist (cuddle)#anyway anon thanks for the prompt!! i am SO happy to draw more moshang and welcome any and all suggestions#either just about them or about the childhood!au#i really should play with the concept more... i have not been able to get into a writing mood lately but it'd be nice to finally write#a svsss fic - i've got at least a couple for both mdzs and tgcf after all#until then though: art!
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one of the first sketches I did for the au finally got from the not-so-lined stage
I just wanted to draw Siffrin and Seafoam mirroring each other :)
#fanart#my art#isat#in stars and time#isat spoilers#isat siffrin#isat loop#two hats spoilers#seafoam#The Start and the Epilogue#isat au#isat fanart#siffrin#loop#I was struggling with background and then remembered the 'concept' thing I did and was like I CAN ACTUALLY USE THAT AS A PLACE#and now that's a place#and they'll meet at that place probably#and meet A LOT but that's just a base for now#also I hate that I made Seaf's design so complicated at that stage#but it does get more complicated it doesn't start this way#and in a way that's even an *alternative* design too#but that's still up to debate at how it fits better#flowers stay either way I love them#also as a little detail I was immediately like “Siffrin and Loop in this au are basically that specific Two Hats ending dialogue”#aka they're chill as hell at least that's what I read while playing but who knows#I'm still figuring out how do I want to actually write them and stuff#when I find the specific vibe I can work with it#I did figure out like 2-3 of them now I just need to focus and actually do stuff.... all of the stuff work. study. this.#I hate focusing bc anxiety just goes WOOP and I'm dead from thinking stuff oof#but this thing is so interesting to work with
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stardew valley au where joel and skizz are new residents to pelican town (hermit town?). joel just inherited a large farm from his late grandfather and skizz is moving in with his old friend after reconnecting with him and wanting a fresh start. and the townspeople are like, kinda weird.
bdubs is fine enough - he’s a sweet man with a fun personality and he’s the local builder, but it’s almost frightening how fast he constructs new buildings when joel needs them. pearl, their resident postmaster, is also pretty normal other than the fact that skizz never seems to be awake early enough to catch her delivering mail. scar is lovely but he’s never available when joel wants another chicken. the mayor, xisuma, is pleasant too, if a little eccentric at times, but he doesn’t really seem to do much in town.
for the most part, skizz is settling in well. he’s moved in with impulse, who runs the local blacksmith in town, and he gets along well with most of the local townspeople. he’s started spending his evenings at the local saloon listening to ren regale the patrons with fantastical tales while he and stress serve up food and drinks, and he finds himself growing close with cleo, the local sculptor. he even gets a new wardrobe from hypno free of charge, and sometimes helps cub out with his totally scientific studies and creations.
skizz also joins forces with beef (who helps to supply the local general store that xb and keralis run) in terrorising the local manager of the corporate chain grocery store that no one likes. doc is a terrible manager but would make a fun supervillain (according to joe hills, the bookseller who appears once in a blue moon but seems to know doc more than anyone in town).
joel, on the other hand, seems to only be interacting with the strangest residents in town. he discovers the adventurer’s guild after only a couple weeks. false promises to give him prizes if he can kill enough monsters, which is not something joel had expected to be doing when he pictured farm life, but here he is. he stumbles upon a travelling cart one day, and the man inside insists he’s a knight from a faraway land, that he risked his life to make it all the way here to sell his wares. it’s all stuff joel can get cheaper elsewhere.
he’s pretty sure the local doctor has no real medical training, but then he passes out while fighting monsters and he wakes up completely fine, so zedaph probably knows what he’s doing. maybe. when joel isn’t passing out he sometimes makes trips to the library-slash-museum, which is probably almost completely empty because mumbo, who begs joel for anything to display, looks like he’s never fought a duggie in his life. eventually mumbo gives joel a key to the sewers, which are way cooler than they have any right to be, and that’s where he finds jevin’s secret sewer shop. jevin lives in town. he just also has a shop hidden underground. joel has stopped asking questions by now.
and then there are the three who live by the beach. etho spends most of his time tinkering around the fishing hut or hovering around bdubs, but sometimes he drives the bus to the desert. only sometimes. there might be something under his mask. no one knows for sure. gem runs the fish shop most days and she claims she’s a sailor, but joel has never seen a single working boat around despite all the ocean. she can also hold her breath underwater for an uncannily long amount of time, like, scarily so, and will sometimes disappear for a few days and return with an abundance of treasures. joel has never seen her leave by boat. grian fishes a lot and runs the shop when gem can’t, and he sometimes talks as though the sea can speak to him. skizz has caught him staring into space for extended periods of time. one time he waded into the water and just stood there, head down, muttering to himself.
apparently there used to be a lighthouse but “it’s gone now”. gem says if they ask bdubs nicely enough maybe they can build another one, but she and grian are banned from build requests after the last incident with their pet snails (joel has never seen the snails, but scar complains about them enough to convince him they’re real).
there also might be some kind of wizard who lives in the creepy tower in the woods. skizz has heard he’s the one who helps maintain the power in the valley, and joel’s convinced he hallucinated seeing him once until he recieves a letter from the wizard himself, and visits him only to find that the strange fire-creature he saw that one time was, in fact, tango, who is human for the most part, he just sets himself on fire sometimes.
#some of these ones probably suit them more than others sorry if u think ‘he woukd not fucking say that’#unfortunately i do know some of them way less than the others#so i’m going off general vibes i get from them + what i think would be fun#it is SO HARD!!! to fit 27 people into stardew roles. especially when i didnt include the desert or ginger island#the desert and ginger island are actually populated by friends of the hermits but thats for another post#if anyone wants elaboration on why i chose certain things for people i would be happy to#hermitcraft#geminitay#grian#smallishbeans#pearlescentmoon#zombiecleo#rendog#gtwscar#impulsesv#skizzleman#tangotek#falsesymmetry#mumbo jumbo#ethoslab#bdouble0#hypnotizd#welsknight#xbcrafted#keralis#cubfan135#stressmonster101#vintagebeef#joe hills
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He got dragged into a wedding dress butique at the girls' night out.
As much as i like putting robots in dresses, i hc that Omega honestly kinda dislikes/doesn't care for women's/fem apparel. In his eyes they emphasize all the wrong things (looking soft/dainty/sweet). Not to mention how impractical e.g. dresses are.
It took a lot of convincing get him to try the stuff on:
Rouge (currently rocking a party dress herself): “Do i give off [any of the words on Omega's list] vibes? How about Blaze (in a light summer dress) over here?"
Omega (who hasn't & doesn't associate either of them with "softness" etc.,): "mmmmmmmmmmm" (If he answers truthfully he's gonna get roped into "Say Yes to The Dress")
And Omega finds out that he doesn't mind some of the dresses. That a select few actually... look quite good on him:
They either clash nicely (depicted dress) in a way that accentuates his form by putting something soft & light against his angular & heavyset build, or bring up other positive aspects - things Omega only now learned to look for/analyse in fashion - e.g. boldness/grandness/fierceness. He doesn't mind that at all.
@generic-sonic-fan
#omega's got this weird bias on fashion... like if asked for Amy's vibes:#Amy'd be wearing something very femme & cutesy e.g. lolita w/ platformer boots#>Omega only regards the platformers - because they go in line with his perception of her noteworthy attributes#toughness or whatever#also#i'm a he/him or any/all Omega truther#but even if going by she/her - Omega's just very traditionally guy:ish#doesn't want to be seen as pretty or cute -type of masculine#especially “cute” is off the table > the depicted frilly cuffs had to go 😔 (i accidentally made the entire fit slightly too frilly)#(something a bit more shiny/lacy would probably do)#(maybe i'll draw some alt options but i dont have timeeee)#E-123 Omega#e 123 omega#rouge the bat#StH#sth art#my art#my hcs
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Poly+ ACOTAR Week - Day 3 Secrets (Feyre/Tamlin/Rhysand) @polyacotarweek
I'm weak for 'two enemies put aside their differences coz they love me more than they hate each other' trope and I was somewhat sad that's not where Feyre's love life went. Just think of the possibilities.
#my art#acotar#acotar fanart#tamlin#rhysand#feyre archeron#tamsand#poly+acotarweek2024 d3#poly+acotarweek2024#this one is more about the vibes than the prompt this day just seemed most fitting for this ship#this started out as a joke but the more i think about it#adding rhysand to the mix would have maybe been good for feylin crumbling relationship actually#her main issue is she can't communicate for shit and tamlin can't read minds#now here comes the mind reader who can yell all her gripes at tamlin without her having to voice them herself#relationship improves instantly#rhys hates it but the bond keeps him around#tamlin can't shoo rhys away coz gotta respect the bond#feyre gets the best of both worlds#comedy ensues#is it the healthiest? probably not#but it is fun
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Forgive me i do not know much about jazzprowl,,, who are pterrorgal20 and bugboi 😔😔😔
(Is pterrorgal Prowl’s pterodactyl Green?? But then who is bugboi…. I am not sure 😔)
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yes!!!!!!!!! YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ur spot on for both 🥹!!! ahrdjfkkengkebgkebfk,,
Green (Prowls pterodactyl/pet flyt) -> pterrorgal20 (Felicity Greene)
Bob (Sunstreakers insecticon) -> bugboi (Bob)
completely useless detail but i did reference/colourdrop this panel specifically LMAO
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if u look closely theres also. one more person i hinted at, whos name i was even less subtle with but the placement i WAS subtle with so ill just say outright:
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Buster (Thundercracker's dog) is also there EHTJFHRKFJ and she has a silly pic of TC as her pfp LMAO,,
also ur so so valid agrjflfbdkdbfkf,,, im being incredibly biased and self indulgent so it is. a particular niche for sure LMAO. im glad you're enjoying it regardless though :]c!!!
#inbox#jeetle and peetle#velwy.txt#callsign-relic#thank u for being. the only person to ask/mention it btw ahdjfhdkwbgj 🥹😭#it also means u get a ton of my rambling in the tags agfjfbdkdbfkrn#also greens name is Felicity because. it sounds. kinda like flyt.#IK PPL PROBABLY DONT CARE ABT THE HUMAN KEEPERS IN THE STORY BUT LIKE. I THOUGHT IT WAS A FUN LIL EASTER EGG/DETAIL#ALSO pterrorgal. is 1000% because of me staring at terrorsaur and going WHY ISNT IT PTERRORSAUR that one time... fbfjfbdjfbdjfndkbfkd#if i liked drawing humans more id. try my hand at designing them but also i dont think ppl would be as invested in them#so id rather draw other stuff whfbnfbgnrb3k#i feel like buster (doggirl vibes) would also have a matching gf/roommate that Starscream is attached to#per the Skybound comics. which. i havent caught up with but ive seen him with a kittycat so. im taking it#its kinda funny because im not. actually That invested in jazzprowl like i LIKE it but also i always end up extending it into a polycule#lmao#which like. speaking of dont mind me desperately trying to fit soundwave in this au (its not working but im trying anyway)#id try mush the constructicons in here too but i already have. an au with them nd j/p in the back of my brain with uh. significant size diff#grggrggrgggrhhhhdbfb#(its a borrower au. save me.)#(or kind of a borrower au??? I HAVENT DECIDED YET. I KEEP THINKING OF IT W HUMANS BUT I WANNA DRAW ROBOTS. SAVE ME.)
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In Saecula Saeculorum
My contribution for @inklings-challenge 2024! Content warning for death and injury
Playlist link (I HIGHLY recommend listening along I spent like four collective hours on this thing I'm super proud. I am, however, adding which songs are best listened to at which points. They will be the bold italicized captions at the beginning of different sections. All the songs mentioned can be found on the playlist! (also, when you finish Afraid Of Time, just listen to the rest of the playlist straight through. It should line up well enough!))
~Time~
When Stephen Reid was nineteen, he almost got hit by a truck while trying to cross the street. A young woman a few years older than him yanked him back onto the sidewalk as the massive garbage truck barreled past, seemingly unaware that it had almost caused his demise.
Stephen steadied his breathing, heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat, then turned to thank the young woman who’d saved him. His mother had drilled good manners into him from a young age, and she’d have scolded him soundly for wandering into the street without looking first, let alone not thanking the person who’d saved him.
But she’d already started moving down the sidewalk, shoulders hunched in her green jacket, her hair (the tips of which were dyed an electric blue) brushing her shoulders as she moved. She was hunched over her cupped hands, whispering to something she was holding, and Stephen frowned. Strange way to hold your phone.
But there were more pressing things on Stephen’s mind. Namely, the fact that the world was tearing itself apart.
When he was little, things were so simple. It wasn’t just that he was a kid—Stephen remembered things had been happy, peaceful. He remembered summers spent digging holes in his backyard with his friends and raking leaves in the autumn. His mother and father had been happy, and life had been good.
As he got older, he saw the little ways things weren’t so good. The strain his father’s job put on him, the leaner times. But his family was still happy.
And then he turned eighteen. And things got really bad. Countries baying for each other’s blood, corrupt leaders turning their backs and doing nothing to help. Every day, the news showed more horrors. Every day, things got worse, and war was on the way. And Stephen knew he couldn’t just sit by and watch. His mother had taught him manners, common sense, and how to be fierce when it was needed. And his father had taught him that if you could help, you did help, and to care even when it was hard.
So that was what Stephen planned to do. In every way possible.
He’d started out with volunteering as he started college classes. There were even more people living on the streets now than ever, and helping make meals at shelters was a step toward helping them.
But then things took an abrupt turn for the worse. And suddenly, they were at war. And Stephen found himself dropping out of school to enlist.
He was twenty when he saw his first dead body—a woman on the side of the road. Face pale, limbs at unnatural angles, blood still staining the front of her shirt. It was an image that didn’t leave his mind for a long, long time.
Two months later he killed someone for the first time. He tried not to remember that. But it wasn’t the last time. Every time he took a life, he found himself mourning, for what the world had come to, for the life that he’d ended.
Stephen may have known the reasons for what he was doing. But that didn’t make it hurt any less, or stop him from wondering if there was a better way he could help.
At twenty-two, he was shot in the line of duty.
It wasn’t the first time he’d been injured. But it was the first time it had been serious enough to warrant being sent to a hospital for a prolonged stay. And as it turned out, it was serious enough that he was discharged from the army. The bullet had shattered bones in his leg, leaving him with a serious limp and pain that never fully went away.
It was strange. One minute he was fighting for his life, the next he was home. Like nothing had changed, like he was supposed to pick up where he left off. Stephen found himself adrift, unsure of his next step. He went back to school, but his old major didn’t seem to fit anymore. Nothing did.
He was twenty-two and a half when one of his classmates dragged him to their local church. Howard was stubborn and usually said exactly what was on his mind, without thought toward how he’d affect others. It was an odd combination of refreshing and very irritating.
And yet, in that sanctuary, Stephen had never seen Howard light up the way he did when the singing started. And listening to the words, he started to understand why.
He’d gone to church growing up, and it had been fine. But this was different. This was something beautiful rediscovered, and he cherished it. Soaked in every word spoken from the front. It was like water after years in the desert, healing after pain for so long. It brought peace he hadn’t known could exist.
Stephen was twenty-three when he changed his major. Not to a pastor, though Howard joked that he might as well, with all the Bible reading and questions. But to a counselor. Someone who could guide others through what he’d gone through, and worse. Someone who could help.
It was a refreshing of his original purpose, a rewriting of his story. It was the right thing to do, and that was all he’d ever wanted.
When he was twenty-seven, he started on an internship. And that was where he met Marian.
She was an astrophysicist, and while Stephen admittedly didn’t understand a lot of what she did, he liked to listen to her talk about it anyway. He liked her smile, too, and her warm brown eyes that lit up like gold in the sunlight. They both loved music, and swapped favorite songs every time they saw each other. She loaned him her favorite book, and Stephen read it eagerly, looking for what she loved in every line.
It took him a while to gather the courage to ask Marian out. Howard—now graduated, running his own construction company, and happily engaged—teased him relentlessly about it. “She likes you, you clearly like her,” the young man would tell him. “What’s the problem?”
“I’m waiting for the right moment,” Stephen would respond, and Howard scoffed in response.
In the end, he didn’t ask her at the right moment. He simply asked her, one day when she was stopping by at his work to talk about the book she’d just finished, eyes bright with happiness. Her smile outshone the sun when she said yes.
One year and six months later, she said yes again when he went down on one knee on a date to one of the few functioning observatories left in the country. He would have given her every star in the sky if he could have, but Marian settled for a diamond ring and a small wedding at her brother’s farm. Stephen hadn’t known someone could hold this much joy within them without bursting.
Two years later, Stephen was thirty years old. And that was when things started to get strange.
~~~
~Prepping For Rescue~
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
She avoided his gaze as she strapped on her protective gear. While the technology they were using had come a long way since the beginning of its use, there were still dangers. Being pulled through time and space could cause serious injury or damage, and the cuffs she was locking into place would generate a field that could protect her from that. Strange, how they almost felt like shackles, weighing her down, when they were the only thing bringing her hope right now.
“You know I am,” she said. “We already tested it. We can go back now, not just forward. And if I have that chance—”
“You’re gonna take it. I know,” he said. “But we still don’t know everything about this. We don’t know how it could affect the timeline. You could start wars, cause innumerable deaths. You could prevent yourself from even being born.”
“I know the risks.” She finished with the cuffs and grabbed her jacket, pulling it on to hide the cuffs from sight. “I don’t care.”
He looked like he wanted to comment on that very much, but just sighed. “Okay. Do you have your location drone?”
“Her name is Penni,” she informed him, and he sighed again.
“It’s a robot. It doesn’t have a name.”
She couldn’t hold back a smile at the old argument. “She does now. And I have her here.” Slipping a hand into her pocket, she pulled out a flat, circular object about the size of her palm. The domed top flickered between different colors, trying to camouflage itself with its surroundings, and it zipped into the air, hovering right above her shoulder. She brushed a hand along Penni’s surface, taking a deep breath.
“Good. Keep her with you, and I’ll be able to bring you back,” he reminded her. “Otherwise…things could get ugly. Because this is all supposed to be theoretical.”
“Then I guess I’m a pioneer,” she said, mouth suddenly dry. Squaring her shoulders, she said, “Let’s do this thing.”
~~~
Exactly twenty-seven days before his thirty-first birthday, Stephen was on his way home from work. He stopped at a grocery store to pick up a few things for dinner—Marian was working later than usual, and he wanted to surprise her with a delicious home cooked meal when she got home.
When he stepped out of the store, a car drove by at top speed and shot him three times in the chest. Two other pedestrians were hit, but he was the only casualty.
Except he wasn’t.
He heard the car screech around the corner, and looked up in time to see the dark barrel of a gun pointing out a window—and then a girl slammed bodily into him, sending him crashing to the ground.
Glass from the store windows shattered upon the bullet’s impact, tinkling against the pavement. There were screams, and Stephen pushed himself into a sitting position with a groan, looking around as the car roared away.
Two other pedestrians lay on the ground—one hit in the shoulder, the other only grazed in the arm. Stephen automatically moved to help them, calling for someone to call the cops, his head spinning.
Because there had been a moment where he’d known, he’d been sure, that he was going to die. Not just fear. Utter confidence. He’d all but felt the bullets pass through his body.
But instead, a girl had saved his life.
The girl. Stephen glanced around—but there was no sign of her. And all he could remember, as he later recounted to the cops, then Marian, was a blur of green jacket and blue hair.
Something about the description itched at the back of his brain, but he wasn’t sure what. All he knew is that he was somehow, impossibly alive. And he was grateful for it.
Two days later they found out Marian was pregnant.
~~~
“It worked,” she gasped, stumbling away from the framework of the machine.
Her friend looked up, eyes widening. “It—it did? Are you okay?”
She nodded, then stumbled again, and he caught her by the arm, hauling her upward. “Whoa. Sit down, have something to drink. We should check you out—”
“I’m fine,” she said, waving away his worry. “It worked, Tad. He—he’s not dead. Is he? I can’t—I can’t think—”
Steering her into a chair, Tad said, “Disorientation is a common side effect after traveling. Let me look at the database—drink some water.”
Taking the water bottle he shoved into her hands before moving to the computer, she gulped down some of the contents, her head spinning. “Do you remember how it was before?” she asked. “You said that you might not—”
“I think being close to the temporal field distortion preserved my memory,” Tad said, typing rapidly. “It’s fascinating, and if we don’t get arrested for this, I’ll write a paper–oh.”
Her stomach dropped as his face fell. “What?”
“You…almost succeeded.” Reading from the screen, he said, “Stephen Reid, died age thirty-two, in the ‘65 train bombings.”
“What?” Rocketing out of her chair, she moved to his side, swaying a little. Tad put a hand out to steady her as she bent over the screen. “How?”
“Looks like he was injured, but didn’t let on because he was busy helping others to safety,” Tad read. Glancing at her, he said, “I know that’s not what you wanted to hear, but—”
She was already moving toward the machine. “We have to go again.”
“What? I don’t think that’s a good idea. You already somehow created a temporal loop when you first went in. Who knows what—”
Spinning around, she said, “We can’t save him from being murdered just to let him die in a freak accident. It’s not—no. We’re fixing this.”
“And you don’t think this has anything to do with—”
Fixing him with a fierce glare, she said, “We’re going. Again.”
~~~
~The Typewriter Theme~
If that was the only incident, Stephen would have accepted it and moved on. He wasn’t dead, and that was something he was fiercely grateful for. His wife was pregnant, and instead of being dead he was there. For the moment when their little girl came into the world, and he held her close for the first time.
They named her Zara Grace Reid, and Stephen’s heart was full. For two long years, they had peace.
Then, when he was thirty-two, things started getting bad again. The governments were all fighting, and groups of dissenters were getting angry at, well, everyone, no matter who they claimed to hold responsible for everything going badly. Danger of terror threats grew more and more present.
The day after Zara’s birthday, Stephen was taking the train to a meeting across town. But when he got to the door, his ticket was missing. Racking his brains, Stephen vaguely remembered slipping it into his jacket pocket—and a girl bumping into him as they crossed paths in the station.
Strange. Who would steal a train ticket? He considered buying another one, but it was a nice day and he was in no hurry. He decided to walk.
Two blocks later the world exploded. Four trains, all across the city, blew up at once, killing hundreds in a deadly attack.
Stephen not only saw it when it happened, he felt it. In his chest, like he was on the train when it happened. But no sooner had the feeling come then it was gone and he was running toward the rubble, hoping desperately that he could pull someone, anyone out.
He missed his meeting and saved twelve lives that day. All the while wondering at the phantom pain in his side, but there was too much to do for him to care.
Hours later, he made it home after Marian, cleaned up, and only by the time he fell into bed did he wonder—did the girl who took my ticket know?
~~~
“SIX MONTHS?”
Pacing back and forth, she glared into space. “I only bought him six months? What does he do that makes these people want him dead so badly?”
“It’s pretty fishy,” he agreed, typing rapidly. “Okay, the records are a little messy, but I think I know the exact date. Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine. Let’s go again.”
~~~
The thought didn’t really leave Stephen, as he racked his brain to remember what the girl looked like. He remembered dark hair with a splash of blue, and the girl had been holding something small. And those thoughts tugged at other memories—of a day almost twenty years ago, when someone had pulled him out of the way of a truck. Of the shooting before Zara was born.
He wasn’t able to really consider the idea, let alone voice it. Not until six months later, when there was a fire in his work building, and someone locked the door of his office, leaving him trapped inside while the flames grew and the smoke filled his lungs.
He’d been in tight spots before. He’d been trained, in the Army, not to panic, even when it was logical to do so. But as his oxygen seeped away and the door refused to budge, even as he bashed at it with a chair, Stephen found himself absolutely terrified.
No. No, this can’t be it. Images of Marian and Zara flickered through his head and he knew he had to fight, had to live at all costs. But if there was nothing he could do—
The door swung open, and someone pulled him forward.
~~~
~The Hornburg~
“I wonder what makes them choose the intervals they do,” Tad mused as he typed. “Is there someone else preventing them? Do we just do this for the rest of our lives? Are they experts or are they just trying everything and every year they can to kill him? Furthermore, what’s going to stop them from just going back to the same year and trying again—”
He stopped short when he saw her face. “Which…they definitely can’t do. Most likely. I think they can’t, anyway. It’s just that the science is so—I’m sorry. They haven’t done it yet, they probably won’t ever.”
“I hope not,” she said, checking her cuffs and scooping up Penni, who chirped a little greeting. “The last thing we need is more things to worry about.”
“Or to send you through more times.” His worry showed through the edges of his speech. “You don’t have to—”
“Let’s go again.”
“Okay.”
~~~
Stephen made it out of the fire and he could have cried with gratitude. The firefighters who arrived on scene seemed very startled to see him stumble out of the building, coughing—they said that the last man to come out had sworn up and down that there was no one else inside.
And they swore with equal fervor that they hadn’t sent anyone else in. They claimed that he must have made it out under his own steam somehow—adrenaline, maybe?
Stephen knew better.
“There are two options,” he told Marian when he explained everything to her later that day. Her brow was furrowed like it always was when she tried to solve a problem. “Either I have a literal guardian angel, or somehow the exact same person is traveling through time and space to save me.”
“I’m not sure which is more improbable,” Marian said slowly. They were sitting at the table, and her fingers twitched against the surface like she wished she had something to write on. “Bending time and space isn’t…unheard of, per se, but we’re years away from being able to achieve it under our own steam. And if we assume they’re from the future, they’d be moving into the past, which is, theoretically, even harder.”
“But then there’s the guardian angel idea,” Stephen said, grinning at her expression. “Which you think is scientifically impossible?”
She let out a long sigh. “I’ve learned not to count anything out when it comes to our faith. So…I don’t know.”
Reaching across the table, Stephen caught her hand and gave it a squeeze. “We’ll just have to pray that whatever this is keeps ending up at the right place at the right time.”
Their prayers were answered when, two years later, someone tried to shoot Stephen again. And again, he was pulled out of the way just in time.
~~~
“So,” Tad said, staring at the screen.
“Yup,” she said.
“A sibling, huh?”
She rolled her eyes. “Let’s do it again.”
~~~
It started happening more frequently. A near knifing in an alleyway, a car barreling toward him as he crossed the street. Every time, it was thwarted. Sometimes, he didn’t even see it coming—the coffee knocked out of his hands that hissed alarmingly on contact with the concrete, leaving it pitted and worn, for instance.
But every time, the attackers failed. And eventually, Stephen started to wonder if they should stop prevention and start focusing on the attackers. The only problem? He had no idea how to do that.
So he decided to reach out to the person who did.
~~~
“How. Did he do that?” Tad asked, staring at the screen.
“He must have realized what we’re doing, somehow,” she whispered. “I mean, he’s married to an astrophysicist, he has to have picked something up.”
Shaking his head, Tad said, “Okay, then how do we respond?”
She stared at the screen for a moment longer, thinking as she reread the lines on the screen. More specifically, the email Tad had found during his usual archive wide search for anything pertaining to Stephen Reid.
He’d sent it to himself, apparently hoping that it would be good enough. And it had been.
To whoever is helping me:
Thank you. I don’t know who you are or if you’ll receive this, but I have faith it’ll end up in the right hands.
Clearly someone wants me dead, for whatever reason. Instead of preventing it, why don’t we get rid of the attackers? Let me know how and when to help.
Stephen.
“What do we do?” Tad asked quietly
She studied it for a moment longer, then said, “We answer. I can slip him a message on my next trip. Have you located who it is and why yet?”
“I think so.” Opening a new screen, Tad tapped on the article he pulled up. “There’s a stabbing, two years from the next attempt, in an alley nearby his route to work. Exactly the kind of thing he’d get involved in and try to stop, right?”
Nodding slowly, she said, “Right. But why this person?”
“No idea. They’re dead in every timeline so far. They must do something that the attackers aren’t a fan of.”
Taking a deep breath, she said, “Then let’s hope we’re not actually on their side.”
~~~
~FREEPORT~
For a while, Stephen didn’t think his message had worked. Things were peaceful—no attacks, no poisonings. Marian found out she was pregnant again, and nine months somehow managed to fly and drag by until she gave birth to a healthy baby boy, who they named Isaiah.
And then three months after that, it happened again.
At exactly the right moment, he was pushed forward, just in time to avoid a bunch of tiles crashing to the ground from the roof. When he caught his balance and his breath, there was no one there. But when Stephen put his hands in his jacket pocket as he started onward again, he found a slip of paper.
10/11/71. Four in the afternoon on your way home from work. Watch the alleyway off Racine. Be ready.
This was it. This was the answer. A little under a year in future, he’d be able to fix this, for good. Whatever this was.
So he kept the paper tucked in his pocket until it grew worn, the folds flimsy. He kept going with life—worked and went to church and looked after his wife and children. He avoided two more attacks in that time, and every time, his mysterious helper was there just in time, only to disappear before he could get a good look at her.
Finally, the day came. Stephen usually carried a knife, out of habit, and this time he made sure he had it, just in case. The day passed in a haze of business as he worked with patients and did paperwork and wondered what exactly was going to happen.
And then work was over. It was 3:45, and he was walking home from work, hands tucked in his pockets, trying to pretend like his heart wasn’t thundering in his chest.
3:47. He passed the cart that sold churros. Oftentimes he stopped to buy one and chat with the owner, but for now Stephen just gave her a little wave and kept moving, pace brisk.
3:50. A couple of kids zipped by on bikes, laughing.
3:51. He heard footsteps behind him, and his heart lurched. Be ready, Stephen.
3:55. The sidewalk came to an end at an intersection, and he turned onto the sidewalk along Racine.
3:58. He wove through a group of teenagers and sped up a little. He could see the opening for the alleyway.
3:59. Heart pounding in his throat, Stephen came to a stop outside the alleyway.
4:00.
For a heartbeat, there was nothing. And then he heard a muffled scream from the alleyway.
Instinctively, Stephen started forward, concern rippling through him. It had been the voice of a girl—young, too young. Most likely not his helper, but that didn’t lower his concern.
He made it two steps forward before he was grabbed from behind. Stephen vaguely registered the cold press of steel against his throat for a heartbeat before he moved, driving an elbow backward into his attacker’s gut.
There was a grunt—a man’s voice, judging by the baritone—but the grip didn’t loosen. Until Stephen snapped his head backward , connecting solidly with the other man’s nose.
There was a crunch and a howl of pain, and Stephen felt the knife at his throat break skin—
And then the grip was gone, and he was stumbling forward, hand pressed against the shallow cut on his neck. Spinning around, Stephen registered a man in all black taking a swing at a young woman—green jacket, hair dyed blue at the tips, holding a weapon he didn’t recognize. What looked like a tiny flying saucer hovered next to her shoulder.
“Help her!” she shouted, dodging her opponent’s blow with ease.
For a moment, Stephen didn’t know what she meant. And then he remembered the scream from the alleyway, and turned. Pulling his knife from his pocket, he moved.
There were two men, both trying to subdue a struggling, terrified girl. One had a hand over her mouth, and the other held a wickedly curved knife. Stephen took a moment to wonder why these people insisted on using knives, and then he was on top of them.
Clearly, either of the men were expecting him. The one holding the blade went flying into the wall with a cry of pain, clutching his shoulder where Stephen’s knife had gone deep, tearing through muscle.
The second tried to reel backward, avoiding Stephen as he clutched for his own weapon while clinging to his victim. But Stephen smashed his fist into the man’s face, catching hold of the girl’s arm and pulling her away at the same time, using the man’s momentum as he fell to tear her free.
He took a minute to glance at her—no sign of injuries, just bright red hair and freckles and shocked tears starting to escape—and then turned to face his opponents again.
Only to find them gone, a trace of blood on the ground the only sign that they’d been there in the first place.
What? Baffled, Stephen turned in a full circle, then glanced at the girl. “Are you okay?” he asked, and she nodded shakily. “Okay. Wait here a minute. Call if you need me.”
Moving quickly, he headed back to the mouth of the alleyway, to see if there was any sign of his mysterious helper, or her opponent. But there was nothing. Just the now oddly dusty sidewalk, passersby who seemed to have no idea what had happened, and—
A scrap of white paper. Stephen bent and picked it up, unfolding it, and read the now familiar lopsided script inside.
She’s safe. You both are, unless you see me again. Look after her. Don’t worry about the other attackers.
There was no signature, although Stephen hadn’t expected one. A wave of relief swept over him, and he breathed out a prayer of thanks.
He was safe. They were both safe. It was done.
~~~
~Afraid Of Time~
“It’s not done,” she said.
“What?” Tad stared at her, baffled. “How can it not be done? We saved the victims, including a victim we didn’t even know we had until now, helped catch time traveling murderers, and hopefully we’re not even getting arrested for using government property without permission. Your mom might not even yell at us. How is this not a win—”
He stopped short, looking at her. As she looked at the computer file in front of her, wishing the words were different.
Stephen Reid. Died 10/12/83
“Zee.” Tad’s voice was soft. “You can’t stop everything.”
“That’s kind of the point of this whole time travel thing, Tad. I can.” Taking a deep breath, she said, “I’m stopping this. I’m going in again.”
~~~
Stephen had always loved autumns. The crisp, cool air, the knowledge of the approaching season that heralded celebrations and wonder and joy and family time. How could he do anything but love it?
Sure, he’d almost died at this time of year a few times, but with his life, when was that not true?
It had been 12 years since the last incident. He’d helped the girl—Jenny, a teenager who’d been alone and afraid and had no idea why those men had attacked her—to the hospital to get checked out. They repeated the same impossible story to the police over and over until they finally got tired of asking and declared the case closed. Stephen was fine with it. He’d been told they were safe, and he believed that.
Years had passed. Jenny became all but a member of the family, and he and Marian encouraged her and supported as she chose a career path and moved forward with her life. Stephen still wasn’t sure what the men wanted with her, but it didn’t matter. Her purpose was her own to discover.
His other two children were far too close to grown up for his taste, as well. Isaiah was thirteen, flirting with girls, and discovering a love for basketball paralleled only by his love for mischief. And Zara was in college, pursuing a degree in physics.
He held great hope and joy for both of them, that they would grow up to change the world in whatever small or big ways the Lord had planned for them. If Stephen was being honest, he held a very specific theory for one of them, as time passed and the similarity grew stronger and stronger.
And that was why, on his walk home from work, he wasn’t overly surprised to see a familiar figure at his bus stop.
She was sitting on the bench, knees pulled up against her chest. Her hair, dark like her mother’s where it wasn’t blue, covered her face in a curtain, and the tiny flying saucer hovered at her shoulder again. As Stephen drew closer, he heard it letting out soft little chirps, like it was trying to comfort her.
Sitting next to her with a grunt, Stephen set down his bag and leaned back. Glancing at her, he said, “Nice day, isn’t it?”
Her chin jerked up a little, like she was surprised to hear his voice, then lowered again. Stephen watched her for a moment, debating whether or not he should speak again, when she did, voice low and cautious.
“If you could know the day that you died, would you want to?”
Stephen considered for a moment, tapping a finger against his knee. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “My instinct would be no—why live in dread of something like that? But I can’t say I would be curious.”
“Who wouldn’t be?” the girl agreed, voice still quiet. “What if…what if you could stop it? If someone just told you the right things?”
A heavy feeling began to settle over Stepehn’s chest. “Can you?” he asked, abandoning all pretense.
She let out a choked sob, and Stephen felt a stab of sadness. “I tried,” she choked out. “I tried again and again, but no matter what I do—”
“It’s okay,” Stephen told her, gently reaching out to touch her shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”
Letting her feet drop down, the girl scrubbed a hand across her face angrily. “You don’t understand.”
“I think I might,” Stephen said, his voice very soft.
She shook her head. “No, you don’t. For you, it’s been another twenty years, but for me…I thought I’d get to go home and—” she stopped short, staring across the street, eyes red.
“And I’d be there?”
She swiveled to face him, eyes going wide. “What—how did you—”
“You’re my daughter, Zara. How could I not recognize you?”
Her face crumpled, and Stephen slid across the bench to pull her into a hug as she burst into tears. She pressed her face against his shoulder and he ran his hand over her hair, the way he used to when she was a little girl.
Closing his eyes against tears of his, he whispered, “It’s okay.”
“It’s not,” she mumbled, voice muffled by his shirt. “I was supposed to get you back.”
“You did,” Stephen pointed out. “Just not for as long as you wanted. But you were the one who saved me, so many times. You’re the reason I got to watch you and Isaiah grow up, and I will never stop being grateful for that. You’re the reason Jenny’s alive.”
“It’s not enough,” she whispered. “This shouldn’t be the last time I see you.”
Stephen almost laughed, tears springing to his eyes. “It won’t be. If there’s one thing I hope your mother and I taught you, it’s that.”
Pressing a kiss against the top of her head, he pulled back a little, taking a look at her. Zara had his wife’s beauty and dark wavy hair, and he wondered when she would dye the tips blue. Her eyes were the same warm brown as Marian’s—oh, Marian—and right now, they were wet with tears.
“I don’t want to let you go,” she said, voice shaking.
“I know,” Stephen said, heart aching. All he wanted was to tell his daughter that it was going to be okay, that he was going to be able to come home. But it was becoming increasingly clear that he couldn’t make that promise.
Instead, he asked, “Tell me about what you do next. Tell me everything.”
So they sat on the bench, and Zara told him about her work and her best friend Tad—whom Stephen had already met, but the two hadn’t grown close yet—and how Isaiah was coaching at a local high school and Marian was still working, still looking out for Jenny, still going to church every day. “She still loves you so much,” Zara told him. “Even when I never knew you, she’d tell me about you and how important you were to her. I—I thought I could bring you home to her.”
“You did,” Stephen pointed out, remembering all the days he’d almost died, and all the days his daughter had saved his life. His daughter.
Eventually, the bus came around the corner, and the little flying saucer at Zara’s shoulder let out a chirp. Zara’s eyes widened, and she glanced up. “I—”
“You have to go,” Stephen guessed.
“I don’t want to,” she whispered.
“I know. But if this is it, I don’t want you to have to watch it.”
Shaking her head, Zara said, “You shouldn’t have to be alone.”
“I’m not alone,” Stephen told her, and he meant it. Though his heart was heavy with grief, it wasn’t for him. And he knew—he was sure of it—that his family would be alright. They were strong enough to look after each other without him.
Getting to his feet, he waited until Zara did the same, then pulled her into a fierce hug. “I love you,” he told her. “And I’m proud of you. You and Isaiah, you’re the best thing I’ve ever done.”
She was openly crying now, but nodded, holding him tightly for another minute. “I love you, too,” she said.
And then stepped back and the bus was there. Stephen took one last look at her, taking in every detail. At last, he turned and boarded the bus, taking a seat in the back.
It lurched into motion, and Stephen glanced out the window at the now empty bus stop. I’ll see you again, he thought. And he knew, in his heart, it was true.
Pulling out his phone, he opened up his text messages and began one to Marian.
I love you, Mari. I love the life we’ve lived together for the past twenty years. Thank you for being the best wife and friend I could have ever asked for.
Looking up, Stephen took one last look around him, and wondered what would come next. He knew more than most sitting on the bus did, and yet found himself frightened. And yet, at the same time, excited.
Whatever else happened, he was ready, with no regrets.
He sent the text.
~~~
Zara was still crying when she stumbled back into her own time, bones aching fiercely. Most trips, she’d taken a break in between, but for the past five or so, she’d gone in without stopping, time after time. Trying desperately to stop what she knew was going to happen.
It hadn’t worked.
But somehow, despite the tears and the ache in her heart, it was okay.
“Zara?”
Tad had moved to stand in front of her, face twisted with concern. “Are you okay? Or—are you hurt?”
Shaking her head, Zara took a shaking breath. “I’m okay,” she said, and he gave her an unconvinced look. “Fine, I’m not hurt. And I…” she trailed off.
“It didn’t work,” Tad said quietly. “Zee, I know you want to do this, but so many trips in a row are hurting you. And if this is so hard to stop—”
“I know,” Zara said, taking a deep breath. “It’s okay. I’m…I’m not going in again.”
Tad’s eyes widened. “Really? I—I didn’t expect that to work.”
“It didn’t,” Zara said, and couldn’t hold back a laugh at his expression. “I…I talked to my dad. It’s okay.”
“You’re sure?” Tad said slowly. “Because five minutes ago you were very ready to keep doing this or die trying.”
Nodding, Zara swiped a hand over her face, ridding herself of the last traces of tears. “I am. I got to say goodbye, and…he’s right. I’m gonna see him again. Someday.”
Resting a gentle, if slightly awkward, hand on her shoulder, Tad nodded. “I’m glad. He’d be proud of you, Zee.”
“Thanks, Tad.” Zara took a deep breath. It was time to stop living in the past, and start looking at the new, and slightly changed present she had waiting for her.
And when the time came to see her father again, she would greet him with joy and the knowledge that she’d lived her life to the fullest, like he had. Until then, all she could do was take the first step toward doing that.
#inklingschallenge#team tolkien#inklings challenge#genre: time travel#theme: counsel#theme: comfort#story: complete#this actually turned out so much better than i thought it would#there were. some moments#but i like the vibes#also now i'm obsessed with two of these ocs and need to feature them in more content#fun fact this could and probably does exist in the same universe as my kyvis stories#which is a HILARIOUS concept that i shall have to explore more#anyway i digress#i'd apologize for how overboard i went with the playlist BUT#a) you can just ignore it if you want to#and b) it's a masterpiece and i love it so much#it's for the VIBES GUYS#and i haven't spent this long waiting to find a character that fits how do i say goodbye only to not share when i do find one#MOVING ON#writing stories is a kind of magic too
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Okay I saw more of your art and had to come back (if it’s okay)
Maybe this time….King Marty? Like in a kings outfit with the septor
and crown and stuff? Idk
no problem at all! i'm just happy you enjoy :D
anyone with any remote knowledge of historical dress from any vague period or region please avert your eyes.
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#im having a real doc brown crude model moment here over the fit LMAO.#marty mcfly#bttf fanart#bttf#back to the future#not Exactly what you asked for? i could not bear to draw the fancy stick alas. and it's more of a prince vibe than a king vibe#bc if this guy held any sort of significant position of power something would combust#ik it's a silly doodle but of course i gotta make up some context bc that's part of the fun. YAP SESSION WARNING#i was thinking that doc and marty were dicking around somewhere in a place and period of time with a monarchy. for Science#and for one reason or another he ends up getting mistaken for royalty or something. may or may not be related to how straight his teeth are#so they drag his ass back to the palace and marty has No Fucking Clue what's happening. meanwhile doc is on the verge of a stroke#i think it would be really funny if some princess got infatuated with marty and now he has the plot of the first movie on his hands again#except instead of him ceasing to exist it's like. the entire history of a country#so doc's trying to get him out of there and marty's trying to let this chick down gently bc he doesn't want her to like. kill him or smth#and also there's probably a tannen thrown in there too bc why the hell not#i don't even like royalty aus that much for this fandom but somehow i've got a decent amount of thoughts about this LMAO.#you asked for a silly doodle and somehow it came with a whole fic idea too. whoops#anyone want to take this idea and run with it feel free to#kit does an art#kit yap session#<- bc of the sheer amount of tag on this
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emo Nico x scene Will Solace...
#pjo#riordanverse#nico di angelo#will solace#solangelo#i need them to be cringe (affectionate) teenagers okay#give me Will with a hardcore homestuck phase and streaks in his hair dyed with kool-aid and striped armsocks#date night is Will teaching Nico how to make kandi bracelets#if youve been here awhile you may know i am a scene Jason believer and the same concepts apply here#listen i just think. emphasizing Nico being emo and giving him a scene boyfriend#its very important though that only certain riordanverse chars fit the vibe to be scene kids#like i dont think Percy would be as much as i want him to be#its antithetical to his character (internalized ableism/bad self-loathing/keeps his head down)#Will and Jason on the other hand would use XD unironically and have a total ball making sparkledog fursonas#Alex Fierro. DEFINITE scene kid. Magnus is already just kind of a little emo. Sadie is a definite yes. Carter. maybe.#i think he'd be adverse at first but kinda get into it casually yknow. he'd dig kandi bracelets at least.#probably get really into linguistic breakdown of xD rAnDoM speech just for fun#Walt no but he could. like. i think he'd be open to trying it. but its not his default state.#Zia. doesnt have the energy but i kinda wanna see it regardless. i think itd be fun for her but on her own she'd lean more goth#Leo? maybe. depends. he's more into doing stuff ironically. Piper. yes. but specifically as an f-you to conventional fashion#Reyna no. Frank maybe. Hazel yes. Thalia maybe. Annabeth hmm. maybe#i think thats all the main casts. Alabaster? YES and i wanna see it.#anyways thank you for coming to my emo x scene ted talk and character evaluations in the tags
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next // previous
september 25, 2021 6:00 p.m. henry's house
#ts4#the sims 4#sims 4#sims 4 story#sims 4 storytelling#simblr#hlcn: everything the stars promised#holocene.docx#holocene.png#i was going to skip right to the dinner but idk#i wanted more scenes with this crew so TADAH#also i know realistically this is a basic fit lmao but grant in a sweater is always a fun vibe#and it is true he does not wear blue very often#probably because that's his dad's favorite color first and foremost in his mind#hlcn: grant#hlcn: henry#hlcn: soobin
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