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shadowtraveled · 2 days

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would love to know your thoughts on rinsha dunmeshi. or on rin and kabru :-)

OH!! i love rin honestly lightning damage and unaffiliated spellcasters will get me every time.

i would have loved to see more of her, but i do really enjoy kui's style of storytelling where she gives us the information about a character that will tell us exactly what she wants us to know. it reminds me of the way someone described suzanne collins' writing as surgically precise—she has more information about characters and the world, but she included what would get her story across most effectively. kui gives off a similar impression, and i think rin is a good example of that.

sorry readmore because that was getting long already.

rin's backstory is really interesting to me because it helps us to extrapolate so much more about the world and the other characters in it.

for what it's worth, i don't think it's terribly likely that her parents were practicing ancient magic. they were immigrants of a visibly different ethnicity, though, and they were magic users, which othered them doubly in the northern continent, and that otherness cost them their lives. this is sort of a running theme in dungeon meshi overall ofc, but i think a lot of discussion surrounding dungeon meshi discrimination focuses on the elves. which is fair, since they seem to be the most significant world power and they're weird race elitists as elves in fantasy frequently are, but the story does not want us to forget that discrimination is complex and so is otherness. tallmen may not be respected by long-lived races, but in communities where they do have power, they're still perfectly capable of leveraging it against others. they seem to have a particular bias against magic, but really anything people deem weird or creepy is enough to land you in trouble: laios faced constant rejection and, in some cases, severe harassment just for being autistic; kabru's eye color was enough to push his mother to the fringes of society and get her accused of witchcraft, suggesting that "weird or creepy" is regularly conflated with "magic" in tallman societies; and falin's affinity for magic led to her isolation and ostracism as her mother frantically tried to suppress it. rin's parents, meanwhile, were outright executed. the nature of these reactions to anything unfamiliar or non-standard are definitely meant to convey something about tallman societies in the world, but i think rin and kabru's situations specifically lend some explanation as to why falin is so forgiving of her parents. they didn't really know what to do with her, and some of the things they did to her were harmful, but she seems to see them as trying their best to protect her, perhaps because she knows the emergence of her magic could have put her in immediate physical danger but didn't.

with that being said, i'm surprised rin doesn't have more of an aversion to tallmen, but maybe kabru made enough of an impression on her that she developed some hope for them.

her dislike of elves, meanwhile, is entirely understandable—her interactions with them seem to be framed as emblematic of how they treat short-lived races in a way we don't really see with the others. milsiril objectifies short-lived races but does seem to... kind of care, otta fetishizes them but seems to... kind of care, mithrun's squad only get to be patronizing for a bit before it becomes apparent they bit off way more than they could chew, and mithrun isn't invested in these designations anymore. but the elves that found rin treated her like evidence, then like a toy, and then they got bored and ignored her, and then she was evidence again, and then she got adopted out to elves who kept her like they would a pet. miserable fucking experience, and a very thorough and efficient way of expressing just how little the elves are socialized to consider the humanity of the other races.

as for her relationship with kabru... i'm glad they had each other around. it's impossible to be surprised that she latched onto him in her circumstances, and i think it's sweet that she was the one he stuck with (despite the implication that milsiril was raising other children alongside him that he ostensibly would have spent more time with).

i also love how apparent their closeness is! rin gravitates to kabru, and if i'm remembering right, most of the time she speaks it's to him. that immediately established to me that she is uniquely comfortable with him, and interestingly it goes both ways! it's less apparent with kabru, because he's a lot more social than she is, but vitally, he lets the mask slip with her. she's the only character he goes out of his way to tease, and sometimes he takes it a little bit into "alright that was kind of mean" territory, which sucks of him but is kind of the point. kabru's interactions with rin are the earliest ones where we see him fuck up or be a little bit of an asshole, and that's almost certainly because she is a person he feels comfortable enough with to not try to game every conversation. kabru being a little bit of a bitch is the first time we see him not trying to be charismatic. and she gives it RIGHT BACK lmfao it really conveys the feeling that these two are kind of "safe people" for each other, even if they're bantering a little meanly. very charming, top-tier childhood friend dynamic, no notes.

editing to add:

^ YEAH THIS IS IT thank you @gerrykeay i think this really captures the spirit of her revulsion with regard to things like magic school (and its graduates), etc... she seems to think of magic school as this sort of lofty opportunity only people with a certain level of social standing are able to access (which seems to hold a level of truth) and reject it on the basis that something like that is fundamentally incompatible with who she is as a person, and that's probably the same reason she remains unaffiliated despite knowing practicing magic without organization ties is potentially dangerous for her. these systems rejected and failed her family and her, so she rejects them in kind.... god i'm so obsessed with the way practically every character has a main character backstory and motivations this really is like a ttrpg lol

#anon #ask #rinsha fana #kabru #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #thank you this was fun to think about #severe problems

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webslinger-holland · 3 days

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The Sergeant's Senator | Epilogue

Summary: A few years have passed. The Bad Batch finally think about settling down on Pabu.

Warning: fluff, reuniting, mutual pining, kissing

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader Senator

Type: Short Series

Word Count: 3.5k words

Series Masterlist

Over the course of the next three years, Hunter had come across lots of different beaches during their missions. He'd often take a short moment to take in the scenery at the end of a mission, judging the features that in his mind made the beach a good one or a bad one.

No matter how many beaches he came across, Hunter was never fully satisfied with the beach in front of him. There was always something that made it fall short of being a perfect beach. Whether it was much too rocky, the waters weren't the right shade of blue, or a few unfriendly critters littered the place. He came to the conclusion that none of these beaches were up to his specific standards.

That was until Pabu.

During the Bad Batch's first stay on the planet, Hunter found himself walking down to the shoreline on his own one evening. His heavy boots pressed into the soft white sand, thinking slightly under his weight. He searched some of his surroundings, glancing up and down the coastline for anything out of place. But Hunter couldn't really see anything just yet.

The crystal clear blue water created the smallest curved waves, splashing white sea foam along the shore. The sinking orange sun shone through the billowing wispy clouds, kissing his tanned skin and keeping him warm in the sunlight. A handful of colorful seashells littered across the sand, but not too much that it would be difficult to avoid stepping on them. The beach looked like a masterful painting. And it felt like the world seemed to stand still.

This was the place; Hunter was sure of it.

The Pabu port was certainly a hotspot for the remote island. Many fishing boats would travel out into the waters every day to catch fish to bring back. They also transported various goods including resources to rebuild and supplies to distribute. There were always a lot of people hanging around the docks.

Just as a boat was pulling into port, Wrecker was sure to wave from his spot on the perched ledge. He held a fishing pole in one hand, gently tugging the line with the other. The small boat docked and a number of people began carrying the supplies up to the lower level of the city.

Meanwhile, Shep and Hunter were carrying two heavy crates up the stairs to the lower level. They wasted little time in setting the crates down with the rest of them, getting ready to go back down for another trip.

"This friend of yours who's stopping by, he's another clone?" Shep wondered while throwing a glance towards the sergeant.

"Yeah, but don't worry. He's not with the Empire," Hunter reassured him. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand.

"If you trust him, that's enough for me," Shep smiled.

"The new fishing dock's rebuilt and moored," Wrecker announced. He had just climbed the last few steps whilst carrying a massive purple fish over one shoulder. "And I caught some dinner," Wrecker added proudly.

"You've been busy," Hunter recognized.

"You're got that right," Wrecker smirked. He propped the pole of his fishing rod over his right shoulder. He was quickly called away by some others who were looking for help to fortify the seawall. And he hurried after them.

"He's become an integral part of this community. You all have," Shep praised. His tone changed slightly as his next words came. "Any chance you've reconsidered staying permanently?"

"For soldiers, putting down roots is an occupational hazard." Hunter tried to explain. He knew this from first hand experience that he wasn't meant to form attachments to anyone or any place.

"Is that all you are? A soldier?" Shep asked sadly.

For a brief moment, Hunter pondered his words carefully. It'd been a long time since he questioned his status as a soldier. The times had changed and the war had ended since then. But he didn't have a long time to think about this before he heard the engines of his ship flying overhead.

Looking up, the Marauder flew over the docks and the port. It began flying higher into the sky, growing smaller in the distance. The two of them walked towards the edge of the steps to watch the ship fly away.

"More flying lessons?" Shep chuckled.

"Uh-huh. Tech's got his hands full," Hunter commented with a small smirk on his face.

Meanwhile, Tech and Omega were doing another flying session since she had begged him earlier that morning. She sat happily in the pilot's seat, maneuvering the wheel with two hands. Tech was currently seated beside her, but was holding onto the sides of the seat for dear life.

It was safe to assume that Tech found Omega's flying skills incredibly inexperienced and rather reckless. She'd often pull up at the last minute or use the thrusters way too much. He tried to critic her, but she kinda did her own thing.

After a moment, there was an incoming vessel approaching them that showed up on their scanners. The two of them leaned forward in their seats to look at the blinking red light on the panel.

"Incoming vessel on approach," Tech explained.

"It's him!" Omega exclaimed happily. She pressed the comm channel. "Havoc-4, this is Havoc-5. Do you copy?"

"Affirmative, Havoc-5. I see you've been keeping up with your training," Echo's voice sounded through their channel. A smile was evident in his tone.

"As promised," Omega replied.

"Good. Race you to the landing zone?" Echo challenged.

Before Tech was able to protest the idea, Omega had already accepted the challenge and grabbed onto the thrusters. She pulled a sharp turn in order to head back to the landing zone, following the ship closely behind.

Only a few minutes later, Echo successfully landed his ship near the landing zone. The engines powered down and the ramp lowered slowly. He walked down the ramp to be greeted by a familiar face. Both Hunter and Echo came up to each other and clasped their hands together in a brotherly manner.

"You weren't kidding. This place is remote," Echo told him, having never visiting the desolate planet beforehand.

"That has its advantages," Hunter agreed. The Marauder ship began to slowly descend over the landing platform, coming down a little rougher than expected.

"I'm surprised you're not on Ord Mantell with Cid," Echo pointed out.

"We've been...reevaluating things," Hunter responded.

In the short distance, Omega emerged from the entrance of the ship. She called the clones name, waving her hand wildly in hopes that he would see her. She broke into a run down the ramp, following by a dizzy looking Tech who stumbled down after her with a hand on the side of his head.

Just as Omega drew closer to them, she ended up leaping into his open arms and wrapped her arms around his next. He was a little taken back by the gesture to say the least, but he hugged her back nonetheless. She smiled so brightly.

"We've missed you," Omega said cheerfully.

"It hasn't been that long," Echo chuckled. He was careful to set her back down on her own two feet.

"Feels like it has," Omega shrugged her shoulders at this.

Turning his attention back towards Hunter, Echo's face grew more serious. He had come to them for a reason; this wasn't just a friendly visit. However, Echo did come bearing good news. And he needed to tell the sergeant.

"I've just come from Coruscant," Echo confessed. The sergeant immedielty straightened his back in posture and his breath hitched in the back of his throat at the mere mention.

"Did you happen to--" Hunter stopped his words short.

"Yes," Echo nodded. His lips tugged into a gentle smile. "I saw her. She's doing just fine."

Upon hearing this, Hunter nodded his head understandingly. His gaze fell to the floor as he tried pushing his emotions and reaction down. However, this didn't go unnoticed by Tech or Omega. They studied him carefully.

"Actually," Echo corrected himself. "She's doing more than fine."

Without another word, Echo had turned around in his place and walked right back up the ramp of his ship. The others who had been left behind were confused by his sudden disappearance. But it all seemed to make sense a moment later when he reemerged at the entrance.

This time, Echo wasn't alone though. He gingerly helped escort the former senator down the ramp slowly, being extra mindful of her weakened state. She needed to watch her steps because she didn't want to loose her footing. The two of them descended down the length of the ramp until they reached the bottom. Now they lifted their gaze to look at the others.

In that moment, Hunter felt this stirring tension growing in the pit of his stomach. Everything around seemed irrelevant as he stared directly into those mesmerizing eyes once again. He honestly never thought he'd lay eyes on her again, yet here she was, standing only a few feet away from him. He heard his heart skip a beat. And he swore that he'd just fallen in love with her all over again.

Having been apart for three years, Y/n looked different from when they spent time together and from when the picture of her hologram was taken. She no longer wore extravagant clothing fit for a senator, instead opting to wear bland and boring civvy clothes. Not only that, but she also cut her hair and it now rested in soft waves just below her chin. She looked different; she looked as beautiful as ever.

Feeling overcome with emotions, Hunter took a single shaky step forward. He moved with caution in fear that this was all just some horrible nightmare torturing his mind. But as he drew closer to her, his hesitation didn't waver. He just couldn't believe his eyes.

Very quietly, Echo and Tech silently gestured for the young girl to follow them away. She was going to protest, but they quickly reminded her that they needed a moment together. The three of them began taking strides backwards, giving the couple some space. They watched from a distance instead.

"Is that the senator he likes?" Omega asked with slightly narrowed eyes. She looked up at Tech and Echo for an answer.

"That's her," Echo nodded once in confirmation.

"She doesn't look like a senator," Omega commented on her appearance.

"That's because she's not a senator anymore," Echo replied without taking his eyes off the pair. He crossed his arms over his chest. "She stepped down a few months ago," Echo added.

"So why'd you bring her here?" Omega always seemed to have a million questions on her mind.

"She needed a place to go. She's always had a target on her back. Now more than ever," Echo said with a hint of sorrow in his voice. He didn't want to get too deep into the details, thinking it wouldn't be wise to share that information with a child.

"She'll be safe here," Tech reassured him. "Plus...Hunter's here too."

At this comment, Echo's lips began to tug into a smart smile. He nodded his head in agreement. He looked between the two of them with admiring eyes.

"It's exactly what they both needed," Echo responded. It was almost like it was all apart of his grand plan to get them back together. And it worked perfectly in his favor. "She needed a place to take refuge and he needed a reason to stay."

All the while this conversation was taking place, Hunter and Y/n were still trying to come up with the right words to greet one another. They both simply stood in front of one another with shocked looks on their faces. Each of them unable to find the courage to speak first.

"Hi," Y/n spoke gently. She sent him a nervous smile. She wrung her hands together, realizing that they had become incredibly sweaty.

"Hi," Hunter breathed back, still a bit lost for words. He cleared his throat awkwardly, shaking himself out of his trance. "I--I can't believe you're standing in front of me," Hunter spoke.

"I know," Y/n agreed. "Me neither."

"Cause I never thought I'd see you again," Hunter confessed. There was a strong sense of sorrow in his brown eyes. A heavy heart still kept him stationed, remembering all those lonely nights longing to be able to see her or speak to her.

"Well...I'm here now."

Without saying another word, Hunter took the remaining steps forward to close the distance between the two of them. He wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her into a tight embrace. Dropping his head onto her shoulder, Hunter took a second to bask in the feeling of having her this close to him after all those long years. He closed his eyes shut, sighing in a form of contentment.

For some reason, Hunter was holding onto her so desperately at the beginning. It was almost like he was afraid she'd slip through his fingers so he clung to her as a lifeline. He buried his nose into the waves of her hair, inhaling the sweet familiar scent of fresh lavender. She grounded him back to reality.

"I missed you," Hunter mumbled into her hair quiet enough that she was the only one who heard him.

"I missed you too," Y/n said with a hinted smile in her tone. Her arms remained locked around the space behind his neck, holding him down to her for a while. They swayed ever so gently in their place, feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness taking over them.

Finally, Hunter drew away from her, but he kept his hands on her hips steadily. He held her at an arms length so his eyes were able to scan over her new appearance. He chuckled softly to himself.

"What happened to this?" Hunter prompted with a smile. He had brought a hand up to grab a few strands of her short hair, tugging on it teasingly.

"I cut it," Y/n replied happily. She subconsciously grabbed a few strands as if to fix it for approval. She gazed up at him with sparkling eyes. "Do you like it?"

"It suits you," Hunter agreed with a firm nod. "I like it a lot."

There grew a settled comfortable silence between the two of them. They once again found that they were at a loss for words, choosing to simply bask in one another's presence for the meantime. Eventually, a thought slipped through the sergeant's mind. And he was reminded of the thing he did on every previous mission.

"I have to show you something," Hunter stated as the realization dawned on him suddenly.

"Lead the way," Y/n encouraged. He took hold of her hand gently, glancing down at her for a quick approval. When she sent him a smile, Hunter took that as the 'go ahead.'

They began walking through the various streets of the little island, talking and catching up on the latest development in their lives. She had mentioned what had happened to the senate as of recently, stating that the corruption of this new empire was only creating more problems throughout the galaxy in her opinion. She also had come to realize that there weren't too many others who agreed with her, which became one of the reasons why she stepped down.

After this, Hunter talked about to events that occurred after the end of the war. How Order 66 went down for them, how they met Omega in Kamino, how Crosshair chose the Empire over them, and how they had been on the run ever since. It felt like they talked for hours as they mindlessly walked through the quaint streets.

It wasn't until later in the evening when they made their way to the lowest level of the city. They passed by the now empty ports, heading towards the shoreline in the distance. Stepping off the platform meant that their feet settled on the soft sand of the beach.

When the former senator raised her head, Y/n was greeted by the most magnificent and breathtaking sight she'd ever had the pleasure to witness. As the sun hovered over the horizon, it casted a warm, golden glow across the sky, painting it with a palette of oranges, pinks, and yellows. The ocean waves created the most gentlest of sounds, lapping against the shore in a rhythmically slow manner.

The sand was bathed in the warm light of the settling sun, casting these long deep shadows that stretched down the length of the beach. The air filled with the silly sound of seagulls quacking at each other over the sounds of waves crashing against nearby rocks.

While the sun sank lower, the colors scattered across the skyline began to intensify. The oranges grew richer in ripeness, the pinks changed a shade deeper, and the yellow more pronounced than ever. The fluffy clouds were transformed into a canvas of swirling and mixing colors; each cloud becoming a unique piece of art never seen before. It was the most beautiful sight known to man; a beach bathed in the warm light of a setting sun.

Taking a moment to admire the beauty, Y/n wanted to commit this picture to her memory forever. She closed her eyes temporarily. She inhaled deeply through her nose, smelling the salt of the sea. As the waves crashed near her feet, a spray of seawater kissed her face gently. The gently wind blew the hair out of her face and the sun's warm brought a beautiful glow to her skin. A bright smile overtook her face.

All the while, Hunter was looking down at her like she was the only thing in the world. He didn't care about the view of the beautiful shoreline in front of him; instead choosing to look at the person who he believed could rival the view. He truly thought she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on and he had believed that for years now.

"It's beautiful," Y/n breathed, still taking the time to admire the view.

"Well, I always promised that I'd take you to the beach," Hunter recalled. His thoughts turned wary for a second. A frown fell across his face. "I just hope that it lives up to your expectations."

"It exceeds them," Y/n answered without a moment's hesitation. Her eyes remained trained on the landscape in front of her. "I've never seen a more pure and perfect beauty than this."

"I have," Hunter confessed.

Since getting there, this was the first time that she'd taken the chance to look at him instead of the view. She turned her head to look up at him only to find that he was already looking at her and had been for some time now. Her breath caught in the back of her throat and her heart skipped a beat. She saw the way he smiled at his and she was reminded about his heightened senses.

Feeling slightly embarrassed with herself, Y/n went to avoid his gaze, but he stopped her from doing so. He grasped the tip of her chin between his fingers, lifting her head to meet his gaze once more. The two of themselves discovered that they naturally gravitated towards one another. Their gazes switching between looking at their eyes and glancing down at their lips.

Finally, after three years of being apart from each other, the sergeant and the senator's lips brushed together in a soft delicate kiss. Their eyes fluttered shut beforehand. His hands went from the sides of her head and down to my neck, holding her steadily in his place. Mouths moving in a slow manner to swallow one another's breaths. She tasted as sweet as he recalled from their first kiss and his scruff tickled her face ever so slightly.

They tried to savor this moment together. They held onto each other in fear that they'd lose one another all over again. Their lips fit together like two perfectly matched puzzle pieces, destined to be together from the start. They were reunited.

Pulling away, Hunter already missed the feeling of her lips against his own. He leaned forward to press his head to her own. Their noses bumped together. He kept his hands on the sides of her neck, fighting the urge to simply pull her back into another kiss. She brought her hands up to hold onto the backs of his hands. She gazed up at him with a gentle smile on her face.

"I love you."

No matter what challenges were ahead of them or what was they'd be up against in the future, neither of them feared it. Because they knew that, despite what may come, that they'd always have each other. And they didn't have intend on letting go anytime soon.

It would be the two of them against the rest of the world. And they were okay with that.

Taglist:

@leotatombs @justhavingsomefun1 @totally-not-your-babe @jedipoodoo @gyllord @roam-rs @totallyunidentified @redheadgirl @mrcaptainrex @whore-of-many-hot-men @graciexmarvel @qweenrogerina @arcsimper5 @queenofspades6 @cadihyo @jediknightjana @elthoughtzos @lokigirlszendaya @sleepycreativewriter @moonwrecked-blog @ravenclawbitch426 @waytoooldforthis78 @left-in-the-motel-bar @fic-force-99 @ayyyy-le-simp @swaggykermit

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL WHO FOLLOWED THIS SERIES! I DO HAVE A FEW DELETED SCENES THAT WILL PROBABLY BE POSTED WITHIN THE NEXT WEEK OR SO IF THAT INTERESTS PEOPLE. THANKS AGAIN!

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halothanic · 3 days

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ATTICUS E. BÖHM, CHEMIST REVENANT 2077 → 2288

everything, everything, in its right place, in its right place. there are two colors in my head, there are two colors in my head, what, what is that you tried to say? what, what was that you tried to say? tried to say?

prior to the world's end, atticus was a PhD candidate at CIT, and was instrumental in the creation of their nuclear reactor. he got into vault 111 by lottery, as randomly selected subjects were desired for its cutting-edge cryogenic research. when the institute discovered the vault in 2227, they took great interest in him — he was once one of their own. things become convoluted here, wires crossed. as he woke up gasping, something felt amiss. different. the feeling only strengthens as he does, in his wandering. he will stop at nothing for answers.

redraws for eight year old art! many of you may know him, but to those that do not, i present the star of my rewritten fallout 4, and my nearest, dearest creation. i made him in february 2016, and he is now in 2024 also the star of his own sci-fi universe, an original story of mine. he has gotten me through so much. i'm so proud that i am still here to relay this info, and still creating at that.

i still remember listening to KID A while struggling through the originals, new to digital art. makes me emotional looking back. this will always be *his* song. the rest of the album, too, now that i think of it. every song seems to connect somehow, and he would not be the same today without it.. and tons of everything everything, of course. with that i say, thanks for reading, and i would love nothing more than to reveal more of his lore in due time!

#fallout #fallout 4 #sole survivor #fallout prime #fallout 4 oc #fo4 #my art #fo4 atticus #fallout series

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tommykinard6 · 15 hours

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I don't mean to pile onto your bad day but I've been seeing a lot of creators on tiktok complain/compare the bucktommy and henren tags/fic count on ao3 because there's almost more bucktommy fics then there are henren fics. The number one claim is always that bucktommy writers are racist because we don't write for henren. But like, that's not correct at all? People can write fanfiction for whatever they want to. If they want to see more henren stuff then they can write it on their own.

We can coexist without fighting each other. I'm just tired of people screaming about how bucktommy is anti this or anti that, when we're just vibing by ourselves and don't want the drama but the drama finds us anyway because Sucky People are loud and get heard the most.

You’re good, anon. It actually gave me something to think about during work.

As a quick disclaimer, before we begin, I’m not a POC. I am not speaking for anyone in the Black community and am not attempting to speak over them. My following thoughts are as a queer woman-ish who is also a writer.

I think it must be noted that Hen and Karen have been overlooked since day one. The fact that Buck coming out made it the “gay firefighter show” when we’ve had a beautiful canonical lesbian couple since the very beginning? Is only proof. Is this proof of racism in the fandom? Maybe. Quite possibly. I would argue that it comes from a misogynistic point as well.

If you look in any fandom, regardless of the color of their skin, any wlw ship is horribly overlooked. I’ve done some tag searching on ao3. Straight and mlm ships battle for dominance while there are canonical and fanonical wlw ships that have a drastic difference in numbers. This isn’t a good thing. But it’s an experience that spans fandoms.

I find it sad that BuckTommy has almost more fics, with only two episodes under their belt, than Henren with 7 seasons. However, this isn’t a reason to hate on BuckTommy. The ship didn’t do anything wrong. Comparison is the thief of joy and it’s also rage bait. I think that some creators simply are using anything they can to hate on BuckTommy. Which that makes it sadder, that they aren’t concerned about Henren other than pushing their own agenda.

This isn’t to say all creators who are speaking about this are doing this, but I guarantee some are.

Now, let me speak as a writer.

As someone with 62 published fics on ao3, I write almost exclusively mlm ships. This isn’t because I hate women. And as a queer woman-ish, don’t even start about homophobia. But for some reason, I find it so much easier to write men than I do to write women. This is true for straight and wlw ships and also just in general. I love Henren, but I don’t have the faintest idea about how to write them.

It’s hard enough to write as it is and I’m already writing on ships that are easy for me. I try to write women and it just hasn’t come out right. I want to challenge myself, branch out, and maybe I’ll write for Henren to do that. But I say all this to point out that for some people like me, writing some ships and demographics of ships are just a little more difficult.

That leads me into something else.

I, as a white person, worry about accidentally writing non-white characters wrong. And this was reinforced not too long ago when we had that whole thing on ao3 with deliberate racism in 9-1-1 fics. If anyone has resources or advice for writing non-white characters, I would love to hear that! The last thing I want to do is cause any harm.

I feel like I’ve spoken a lot about me, but that’s because I can’t really speak for anyone else. I can only speak from my experience.

We already have a ship war between BuckTommy and Buddie. We don’t need to pit more people against each other. I think we can love BuckTommy while agreeing that Henren needs to be seen and appreciated and treated equally.

End note to say: I tried to speak as delicately and as sensitively as I could, but if anything came out wrong, please feel free to point it out (kindly). Again, I speak for no one but my very little section of the world. I’m interested to hear what people of other backgrounds have to add!

#911 abc #911 show #9-1-1 #tommy kinard #bucktommy #evan buckley #lou ferrigno jr #911 season 7 #tk6 answers #oliver stark #henren #henrietta wilson #hen wilson #karen wilson

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homuradefender · 23 hours

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madohomu fluff for the very amazing @homurasbiggestkinnie ᰔᰔ

synopsis: No timelines, no witches, no Kyubey < especially no Kyubey>, no magical girls, none of that. What if Homura finally got some peace? No more sacrificing herself for the girl she loves. Taking advantage of a gorgeous sunny day, the two sillies go on a date.

The sillies<3

Homura would have never expected that her first date with the girl would be so out of the blue, and she didn't expect it to be Madoka asking her out. Madoka? Asking her out? That was something that she thought could only happen in her dreams, never actually becoming a reality. Hand in hand, Madoka led the way, she didn't explain to Homura before hand where they were going. Whether she intended that, Homura was unsure.

She was already so nervous, trying to strike up a conversation was something she couldn't fathom. Keeping her cool, she let Madoka lead the way, while Madoka rambled about a number of things, music, her family, school, gossip her and her mom talked about, Homura could listen to her talk forever. Seeing Madoka so carefree brought a sense of calmness to her. ' Oh, sorry I've been talking to much, haven't I?' Madoka said, followed by a nervous laugh. Before Homura could respond, Madoka stopped walking, which Homura didn't realize and accidentally bumped into Madoka, causing the two to stumble a bit but Homura caught Madoka.

'Sorry I should have told you I stopped, Anyways! Here we are!' The two were standing in front of a building, the sign immediately made Homura realize why Madoka picked this place. 'A cat cafe?' She questioned, 'I had a feeling you liked cats, was this a wrong spot I know other pla-' 'No, this place is perfect!' She assured Madoka, she liked cats, the spot was perfect, Madoka is perfect, she thought to herself.

The place was almost empty of customers, safe to say for a table occupied by a small group who were feeding treats to a ginger cat, the place was small, quite cozy looking and the cat theme of the place was everywhere. A cat rug at the front door, the wall seemed to be painted in patterns and colors matching a tabby cat, framed pictures of the cats that resided there were hung on the walls, cat towers, adorable cat beds with different colors were near each table.

They were led to a table by a waiter, who wore a shirt with the store's logo on it, a pink paw print with flowers along it, and plain old black pants. They both ordered something simple, it was obvious they were here mostly for the cats, and obviously Homura would willingly go anywhere Madoka took her. But aside from the fact, the place was cute. Out of all of the cats that were there, two seemed to be interested in them. A white cat, with an adorable pink bow tied neatly around its collar, and a black one, it had a bow as well but instead of pink it was purple.

Funnily enough, the white one rubbed it's head against Homura's hand when she tried to kneel down and pet it, the black one leaped onto Madoka's chair, finding her lap as the perfect place to take a nap. The sight was adorable, and before Homura knew it the white cat had also found its way on to the chair and was resting on her lap. Carefully, she petted the cat, listening to its adorable purrs as the two sat in silence, the only sound filling the room was the faint sound of people in the kitchen preparing food, and whispers and giggles coming from the other group and of course the satisfied purrs from the cats who had taken a liking to the two girls.

' I might have to ask my mom if I can adopt this one. ' Madoka joked, a laugh following suit as the two started small talk, only stopping when the waiter dropped off their food. Each had gotten a cup cake, at the top the frosting formed cat eats and whiskers were planted on the side with some type of candy, and black candy was plopped down to be the eyes. When finished, the girls were hesitant to go, but there was nothing stopping them from adopting them, well Madoka would have to ask her parents but she was sure she could convince them. Both of them paid with their own money, but Madoka had one last plan.

She led Homura to a small park, no one was there, there were a few options but Madoka seemed fixated on one thing, the swings. ' Do you like parks Homura? ' She thought for a minute, she'd never really been to many. Being raised in a Catholic orphanage, there wasn't much play time there from what she remembered. ' I've been to one a handful of times. ' She finally responded, shocked when she felt Madoka pull her to the swings, her eyes glistening in the sun. 'Then let's play! ' The two sat on swings stationed beside each other, and for a while they just played on the swings and chatted. Till the sun set, they exchanged good byes and Madoka shocked Homura by giving her a tight hug.

' Let's do this again some time! ' She beamed up, Homura agreed, this was one of the best days she had had in a long time. Especially since Madoka was there.

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charmwasjess · 1 day

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For the ask game - 5, 7, 18 for dooku?

5) Out of all your fanworks that include Dooku, which is your favourite?

If I had to tell people to just read one of my Dooku fics, I think it would be Milk Run.

I think it's my best Jedi Dooku character work, and I loved writing his dynamics with Qui-Gon, Jocasta Nu, and Sifo-Dyas. It's a longer work, but hey, fuck being self-deprecating, I'd vouch for every page of that shit: if someone gets to the end of chapter two, where Dooku very awkwardly and earnestly tries to explain Jedi sex life to Qui-Gon, and doesn't love the fic by then, I'll give the reader a free coupon for… uh, *turns out pockets* I guess an essay on Legends/EU. :D :D ??

7)Is there a piece of clothing you think Dooku is particularly fond of/that you imagine them wearing a lot or like to draw them in?

I go with the characterization from the novels that Dooku is very fastidious about his Jedi uniform, keeping it all neat and perfect, very rarely if ever out of uniform. Like Sifo-Dyas and Jocasta Nu's depictions, he's got those warmer colored tan/gold/cream/warm brown Jedi tunics with the little flourishy gold detail work on the sleeves and hems.

I like this because it's fun to write the rare times when he needs to be out of uniform for a mission or something, and he's completely awkward about it. And it's fun foil with my headcanon that Sifo-Dyas is out of uniform a LOT with his underworld work. I like imagining them side by side looking like they came out of different eras.

Seer of the Cosmic Force, fated to speak with the froth of doom on his lips? No, it's that guy over there in the hoodie and the manbun, trying to convince the barista to take a coupon for a complimentary drip coffee but instead give him a free extra large matcha frappe with a five squirts of coconut syrup and extra whip.

18)Type Dooku's name and tell us what the autocomplete suggests as the next word

You know, I tried this in my SMS to see if it would give me a different answer than my previous, and got "Dooku cleaned"

Hmmmmmmm. *making direct eye contact with Sifo-Dyas*

#I'm sorry you asked about Dooku and I talked about Sifo-Dyas a lot but you've met me #Sitting in the Dark used to be my favorite Dooku fic but really it bothers me so much that the first chapter is so different from the rest #because it started as a oneshot #I should go back and rewrite that chapter #thank you for the ask though petit!!!#I really enjoyed thinking about this <3

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bluecatwriter · 3 days

Text

Blood of My Blood: Permission

@animate-mush and @ibrithir-was-here, I finally finished drafting the scene! XD

As Quincey Harker first begins to fall in love with Lu Holmwood, he realizes that he should ask for her father's permission to court her. That should be an easy conversation, right?

CW: Descriptions of emotional abuse, mention of smoking

---

Arthur stood at a window in the second story, looking down at his only daughter, his most precious child, strolling and laughing on the lawn below with a vampire.

Evening light bathed them both, making Lu's curls look like they were pure gold, and giving the boy's pallid skin enough color that he would have almost looked human— were it not for the glowing red of his eyes, so bright that Arthur could see it even from up here. Lu said something and the vampire laughed.

Arthur's hands clenched the windowsill as he leaned his forehead against the glass, feeling the roiling in his stomach that hadn't quite subsided since the creature had shown up in his office several days ago. Why he had even let Lu meet the boy in the first place was beyond him. He should have made some excuse— oh no, Lu, there's an undead creature running loose in Scotland, you and Uncle Jack had better go take care of it!— and sent her away. He should have kept her safe. That was his duty as her father.

Of course, it wouldn't have worked. Lu was smart, and Arthur was not a good liar.

But Arthur had failed to prevent their meeting, and now Lu was completely smitten. What's worse, it was easy to see why. The boy was sweet and engaging, an attentive listener, fascinated by the beauty of the world. He quoted romantic poetry with the same enthusiasm that other boys might discuss sports teams. And whatever he was, he was not a vampire like they had fought before. Arthur had tried five different crucifixes on him, as if one could be defective somehow, and forced him to chew garlic while Arthur stared at him as if daring him to collapse into dust on the spot. One of their sources had brought Arthur some holy water, and when he dabbed it in the shape of a cross on the boy's forehead, the vampire had stood there obediently and then asked if something was supposed to happen.

Lu suddenly looked up, and saw Arthur spying on them (no, not spying, he just happened to catch a glimpse and had to check on what they were doing, just in case the vampire was, for instance, trying to rip her throat out). Her eyes twinkled as she smiled up at him, the rebellious little grin on her face quite familiar to him now. He remembered how timid she was when he first met her, how she shrank into herself as if wishing she could disappear. Now she laughed loudly and grinned fiercely and made it clear that she was going to do whatever she willed, regardless of what "the dad" had to say about it. And that was what Arthur wanted, really— for her to be bold and confident and sure of herself— but why oh why did it have to manifest this way?

She waved and blew him a kiss. Arthur blew her a kiss in return, and managed to even smile, but his smile only held until the vampire turned his head and looked up at him too.

Their eyes locked, red to blue, and Arthur felt protectiveness rising in him like a flood. If he was a good father, he would march that boy into his office and tell him in no uncertain terms to stay away from his daughter. If you so much as think about touching her, I will stake you right through your unbeating heart, do you understand?!

The boy tipped his hat, bowing his head with that eerie courteousness that he had shown ever since he'd arrived. He looked a lot like his father— or, as he often clarified, his papa— just then.

What was worse, Quincey being a vampire, or him being raised by the man who had tried to murder everyone Arthur loved?

Arthur stepped away from the window, found that standing was suddenly too much work, and leaned back against the wall instead, slowly sliding down it until he hit the ground. He put his head in his hands and began to sob.

He didn't cry long before he heard a soft rap on the doorframe, and he struggled to lift his head to see Jack standing there. Jack gave him a sympathetic smile, then crossed the room and held out his hand, helping Arthur up into a chair. Arthur wanted to bury his face in his hands and keep sobbing, but he could tell that Jack wanted to talk, so he just looked at Jack through tears.

Jack stroked his hand soothingly through Arthur's hair a few times before withdrawing it to sign, "Lu?"

Arthur choked out a small sound, and jerked his head toward the window. The sounds of Lu and the boy laughing came through the glass. "Jack, am I doing the right thing?"

Jack sighed, his smile turning wry. "You know Lu. She will do what she wants regardless, so we might as well go along with it."

Arthur groaned, leaning into Jack's touch as he petted his hair again. They'd had a similar conversation three years earlier, when Lu had started hanging about with a disgusting boy who treated her like a supporting character for his own ego. Arthur had wanted to throw him out onto the street on his head, but Jack had counseled that Arthur keep his disgust to himself. Forbidden love is very romantic, Jack had said, and Lu is a romantic at heart. She gets that from me, he'd added with a little smile. Arthur had gritted his teeth for four months, until one day Lu showed up unexpectedly in his room, her mascara running, and told him that she'd dumped her boyfriend. Arthur had never been so relieved in his life.

"I'm supposed to keep our daughter safe," Arthur said, his voice choking a little. "How do I know… how can I be sure…"

"You can't," Jack signed, his movements short and sharp. "We must trust what we know: that the holy objects don't burn him, that he has never drunk blood from an unwilling subject, and that his goodness seems entirely unfeigned."

Arthur gulped. "I don't know how I can handle this."

Jack kissed his forehead. "One step at a time," he said when he pulled away. Then he straightened, and Arthur could see him switching into Doctor Mode. "Now, young man, I am going to take your blood pressure."

He strode out of the room and returned with his sphygmomanometer, which he set up on the table. Arthur tried to calm his breathing as Jack placed the cuff around his arm and puffed it up, then frowned at the rising mercury on the device.

After a moment, Jack sighed, setting down the pump in his hand to sign, "It's a wonder your blood vessels haven't exploded."

Arthur groaned and leaned back in his chair as Jack deflated the cuff.

"Maybe you should smoke more, to calm your nerves."

"I would turn into a chimney."

Jack huffed a laugh, and when Arthur tried to follow suit, he ended up crying again. Jack wrapped both arms around him and held him as Arthur shook silently, while the sounds of his daughter and the vampire laughing still drifting through the window.

* * *

Lu had complained about having to attend a boring party tonight with a friend, but Quincey was actually glad for it, because it gave him an opportunity to do what he'd suddenly realized he must do as soon as possible.

He'd gotten careless, and lovestruck. (Lovestruck, what a beautiful word! He had imagined so many times what it must be like to be struck by love, but the reality was even better than he expected.) He'd gotten carried away, lost in the glow of Lu's presence— the sparkle of her eyes, the sharp wit of her words, the unabashed confidence in the way she moved through the world. He had been pining like a lover in one of those ballads he loved to read. And he had forgotten the most important step of all, the one that all other steps depended on.

Lord Godalming's scowl from the window this evening had thrown the necessity of this step into sharp focus. He must approach Godalming tonight and hope to set all in order.

After Lu had left for her party, the servants directed him to Godalming's office, and Quincey stood at the door for a long time, rehearsing his speech in his head, before knocking. He heard Godalming's "Come," and opened the door, stepping inside with his most respectful yet friendly face on, to see Godalming at his desk.

Godalming's face always changed when Quincey entered the room: a tightening of his whole expression, as if it had suddenly become an effort to hold his skin in place. In the corner, Dr. Seward looked up from reading something. It was easier to decipher his expressions: he stared with singleminded focus and curiosity, much like Mum did, rather than Godalming's fidgeting and pacing and avoiding eye contact. But Godalming was the one Quincey must address, and so he only spoke to him.

"Lord Godalming," he said, proud of the even measure of his voice. "I ask your permission to come in and speak."

Godalming cleared his throat, shuffled the papers in his hands. "Yes, of course," he said, though his tone was unconvincing. Still, Quincey must take a chance.

"Thank you, lord." He crossed the room quickly and stood before Godalming's desk, his head bowed as if under the weight of an invisible hand. Before he could lose his nerve, he launched into the speech he had prepared. "Lord Arthur Godalming, I thank you a thousand times for your kindness in taking me under your roof, and for the hospitality that you have shown to me in my time here. I know that all in this household are under your authority, and all here belong first and foremost to you."

Quincey couldn't quite tell what kind of expression Godalming was making— he shifted in his seat, that tightness in his face grew more pronounced, and he glanced over at Dr. Seward. But he didn't tell Quincey to stop, so Quincey plowed on.

"I know you are a benevolent lord, for you allow all those of your household to pursue their lives in bliss and harmony. With this in mind, I humbly beg you to hear my request."

Here he paused, looking for any sign of what Godalming might be thinking. He seemed uncomfortable, perhaps— it was hard to tell— but he was not scowling, snarling, or getting that cold look that Father got right before breaking something. So far, so good. After a moment Godalming said, with bluster in his voice, "Out with it, then."

Quincey breathed a little sigh of relief to have explicit permission to continue, but worked to keep his voice formal. "Thank you for the opportunity to make my request. Lord Arthur Godalming, I ask that I may pursue and court your most treasured and beloved property, Lucille Holmwood."

"What?!" Godalming sputtered, and leaped to his feet. Suddenly, his expression was as easy to read as a book: outrage, and surprise.

Quincey resisted the urge to take a step back. He was surprised, too— he thought it was obvious that they were interested in each other. What part of this wasn't Godalming understanding?

"Don't ever call my daughter 'property' again!" Godalming roared, slamming his hands on the desk.

Now he did startle backward, blinking in confusion. Out of everything in his statement, how could Godalming possibly be angry at that? His mind scrambled to interpret the situation, wondering what unspoken rule he had trespassed.

"She is a person," Godalming continued, "not some trinket that I own— and certainly not a thing for you to own, either!"

"I would never dare!" Quincey burst out, affronted at the very thought, before remembering himself and dropping his head in deference. He had to show that he was obedient, that he would listen to the lecture and the learn the Lesson embedded in it.

Quincey had learned long ago that he had no desire to be like Father— he had no desire to rule, to overpower, to possess. But he had often, so often, dreamed of being like Papa. He had hoped to find a man or woman that he could adore and care for, someone he could protect. Owning another person was never something he had considered, even though he knew that Father would be disappointed in his lack of ambition.

He realized that he'd just been staring blankly at Godalming, who was clearly waiting for him to respond, and he scrambled to find the words that would avoid the worst kind of punishment. Bowing his head further, he clasped his hands in front of him. "I did not mean to cause offense, lord, but of course that is no excuse," he said, all in a rush. "I will welcome any punishment you see fit."

He didn't know what kinds of punishments Godalming was likely to give. The dread of not knowing made his stomach twist, but if he could endure it, perhaps Godalming would consider him worthy.

"I'm not going to punish you," Godalming said, speaking with disbelief, as if it was a ridiculous idea. (He must be trying to put Quincey off his guard so that he wouldn't expect the punishment when it came; Quincey made a mental note to stay alert so that it wouldn't catch him by surprise.)

"Thank you, lord," Quincey said simply. He kept his head down, watching furtively as Godalming and Dr. Seward signed quickly back and forth to each other, Godalming frowning and Seward looking concerned. Lu had taught Quincey a few signs, but not nearly enough to have any idea what they were saying.

Godalming suddenly turned to face him, and Quincey straightened instinctively, though he still kept his head bowed. When Godalming spoke, his teeth were gritted, but he appeared to be trying to control himself. He seemed to value self-control, just like Mum did. "Jack has suggested that perhaps I've misunderstood you. Explain, then—" The sharp edge on his voice flared, then subsided. "—why you referred to my daughter as 'property.'"

Quincey spoke carefully, knowing that speaking the wrong word could be the difference between getting his request and getting severely punished. "Lucille belongs to you, is it not so?"

"Not in the way an object belongs to me," Godalming said, starting to pace. He turned on his heel, pointing an accusing finger at him. "And if you think to treat her like your property—"

Quincey flinched as if he'd been slapped. To be accused not once, but twice, of trying to commit treason in this way made him feel horribly hurt, but he couldn't just blurt that out. He struggled to say, "My lord, please let me speak."

"Speak!" Godalming burst out, waving a hand at him. "You don't need my permission, just speak!"

Quincey fought down the tears that threatened to spill over his eyes, stumbling over his words. "Thank you, lord. I… I had no thought of making her my property. I meant that… I was asking if I could become your property, sir."

Godalming stopped pacing stared at him as if he'd said the most unintelligible string of words ever spoken. Quincey stood there, unsure whether to keep talking, and then Godalming sharply turned to Dr. Seward, and they signed back and forth with puzzled scowls on their faces. Quincey waited anxiously, wondering if they were discussing his punishment. He hoped that he wouldn't cry when they put him through it. He hadn't cried during a punishment in a long time.

"Yes, I know, Jack!" Godalming said unexpected, then grabbed a paperweight that sat on his desk, fidgeting with it as he spoke. It looked fairly heavy; it would hurt if he chose to hit Quincey with it. Father considered corporal punishment to be uncivilized, but a different lord might have a different rule. "Just tell me," Godalming said to him, and again it was clear he was putting a lot of effort into sounding calm, "do you consider yourself to be anyone's property now?"

Quincey could have wept with relief to get a question that made sense— but now that it was posed to him, he had to pause. He had been ready to blurt out that yes, of course, he belonged to Father, and only to Father, as everyone in the household did, but…

Papa's last words to him were imprinted on his mind. He hadn't really understood them, standing at the castle doors that day that seemed so long ago now, but the reality of it was beginning to sink in. Remember, you don’t belong to him. Or, or to us. Just to yourself.

"I don't," he said, and he felt a terrifying emptiness at the declaration. He cleared his throat and tried to explain. "When I lived in Castle Dracula, I was Father's property, along with Papa, and Mum, and everything in the house. But Papa has sent me out now and says that I belong only to myself." Now that he said it out loud, it seemed stranger and stranger. But of course Papa would never go against what Father wanted. Papa had always taught him to do what was right, and obeying Father was right. Father must have changed his mind, and wanted him to own himself.

Godalming's expression remained steady, so Quincey decided to go on. "My heart's desire is to find another household where I may be owned and show my love and loyalty, just like Papa did. This is my deepest wish, that I have held since before I even knew that such a thing were possible." He shut his mouth, squeezing his hands together.

The past few days, he had been thinking about the possibility of asking Lu to kiss him. He had never been kissed by anyone before, except the bloodless kisses that Mum and Papa gave him. Perhaps she would not like the taste of of his blood, but he could offer, anyway, and maybe she would like to try. He imagined her lips open against his arm— or even perhaps his throat!— and wondered what it would like to feel his skin give way under her teeth, to feel his blood leaving his body to nourish that one he loved. The thought of it was so exciting that it made him feel a weakness in his legs, a fluttering in his stomach.

"Quincey!"

Quincey didn't realize he'd been daydreaming, and he snapped back to attention, again speaking in a rush. "I apologize for letting my mind wander, lord, I will accept any punishment you see fit."

"I'm not going to— for Christ's sake—" Godalming looked helplessly at Dr. Seward, as if he could explain this, while Quincey stood there still feeling confused. "Good grief, child, what kind of a life have you had?"

This was probably a test, but Quincey didn't know how to pass it. "A happy one," he said simply. "I come from a loving family."

"Why are you so afraid of punishment, if your family was so loving?" He spat the word like it was poison.

"Punishment is love," Quincey said, a note of frustration entering his voice. He felt a wave of anger at Godalming for insulting Father, for disrespecting the name of the family. "Father punished me to teach me how to be strong and right."

Godalming's eyes blazed again; Quincey wondered why it seemed to make him so angry. "So he never hurt you?" Godalming asked.

"Never," Quincey said, putting emphasis on the word, "except when it was for my good."

Godalming raised an eyebrow. "And when it was 'for your good'? What did he do then?"

"Whatever best suited the disobedience." Quincey spoke without emotion, trying to tamp down the annoyance he felt at this clearly bad-faith questioning of his Father's parenting skills. What did Godalming care?

"For instance?" Godalming pressed, his eyes narrowing.

Again, Quincey decided this must be a test. He focused on speaking as plainly and completely as possible. "If I paid too much attention to my books and not enough to him, he would make me tear up the books and feed the pages into the fire. Or if I forgot my place, he would come into my room and destroy my things."

Godalming's expression was changing from demanding to horrified. "What kinds of things?"

He had a sudden, sharp memory of a stuffed toy rabbit that Papa had brought him when he was a small child. He could still feel the soft cotton against his cheek, see the button eyes and the embroidered smile. He'd named it Hoppy.

"Things I liked. Especially things that Papa bought me in town. For instance, once I owned a toy rabbit. But then I questioned a decision that Father made, and so he took my rabbit and—" His voice caught; there was something about saying this out loud, when he had never spoken of it before, that made him suddenly feel like he was going to cry. "—and tore it to pieces."

He still remembered the sound of the fabric ripping, the way that Father had held Hoppy just out of Quincey's reach and methodically shredded the toy until only fibers and buttons were left, Quincey screaming and begging him to stop all the while. Afterward, Quincey had wept and gathered up the shreds and brought them to Papa. Sometimes Papa could fix the things Father broke, but this was not one of those times.

Papa had held him tightly and let him cry, and afterward they had had a burial service for Hoppy, at sunrise after Quincey should have been in bed.

He felt tears in his eyes and a knot in his throat, and in his attempt to hide both, he lashed out. "But the punishments worked! I learned to never question the wisdom of those better than me, and to obey instructions, and to be respectful in all circumstances. Besides, none of the things he destroyed were mine. They were all his. Everything in the whole land was his. Sometimes I just forgot. But I do not forget anymore. I would never ask to possess anything for myself. If you allow me to be part of your household, I will never forget that all belongs to you."

There was a long silence.

"Jesus Christ," Godalming said, and slumped into his chair.

Quincey wasn't sure why Godalming was invoking the name of the man on the crucifix he now wore, but it was not the time to be asking questions. He stood there, waiting for him to speak again.

Godalming groaned, dragging a hand across his face. "Quincey, I— I don't know what to say."

Once again, a feeling of relief came over Quincey. He knew this kind of roundabout speaking, and knew what the proper response was. Without hesitation, he dropped to his hands and knees, pressing his face against the carpet.

"Lord Godalming, I throw myself upon your mercy, as a wretch, a worm, begging to be your property and yours alone, to sit at your table and eat your scraps—"

"What the hell are you doing?" Godalming yelled. "Get up!"

Quincey sat up quickly, still on his knees, staring at Godalming's horrified expression over the desk. "I… I thought you wanted me… to beg?" Father had always liked begging.

"God, no! Quincey, please, please just pull up a chair and sit down and listen."

That he could do. Quincey quickly pulled up a chair and sat, hands in his lap. Godalming stood up and began to pace again, still fidgeting with the paperweight. He seemed to be grasping for words to say, and it was only after signing back and forth with Dr. Seward for a few moments that he spoke.

"Quincey, you say that you belong to yourself. Well, Lu belongs to herself, too. No one in this household is my property. Do you understand? Everyone here belongs to himself."

Quincey didn't see how that could possibly work, but there was nothing to do but take Godalming at his word and hope this was not a test. "I understand, lord."

Godalming paused, and looked at Quincey with a cross between pain and exasperation. "Quincey, you're a vampire. Lu is a human. You are a danger to her, as far as I'm concerned. I don't want you to court her."

Quincey felt the words sink into him like ice, and the urge to throw himself facedown on the carpet again made his fingers twitch.

"But," Godalming said, and paused. In that pause, it seemed that he aged ten years before Quincey's eyes. "But," he said again, and now his voice was husky, "I do not have the say in this. As I said, Lu belongs to herself, not to me. If you want to court Lu, and she wants to court you, then I… I won't stop you."

Quincey stared at him. This was impossible; he must have heard wrong. "You do not wish to exercise your right of ownership?" he asked hesitantly.

Godalming looked unspeakably weary. "Lu can make her own decisions— and you'd damn well better abide by whatever she decides."

"Yes, lord, of course," Quincey said quickly, still wondering if this was some sort of illusion that he would wake up from.

"But make no mistake: if it comes to it, I will protect my daughter above all else. Do you understand?"

Quincey resisted the urge to smile in relief. Here it was, a straightforward threat, something that he was used to working with. He tempered his wave of excitement, and stood solemnly, bowing. "I understand, lord. I swear to you, I will give you no reason for displeasure."

Godalming looked somehow even greyer than before as he leaned wearily on one hand. "I sincerely doubt that," he said, but it was a halfhearted mutter.

There was a long pause.

"All right, now go." Godalming waved his hand in dismissal.

Whatever he might say, Quincey knew that permission to approach Lu as equals was still a privilege that Godalming had bestowed on him, and Quincey must acknowledge the gift. He reached across the desk and took Godalming's hand with both of his. Godalming startled, but Quincey was committed to the gesture now: he bowed his head over his hand and pressed a bloodless kiss to it, the way that Papa would do with Father when thanking him or placating him. He felt Godalming shudder under his touch.

He still suspected that this whole scenario was some sort of test, and that Godalming would punish him for it, but at least he could be on his guard now— and at least he could invoke Godalming's words against him if he tried to change his mind. Papa had taught him that it was important to remember exactly a person's words, so that you could use them in the future if you needed.

"Thank you, lord," Quincey said, looking earnestly into Godalming's face. One of his eyes was twitching, and Quincey could hear his heartbeat loudly. "I will treasure this kindness." Then he raced out of the room before Godalming could change his mind.

Arthur groaned and sank back in his chair, feeling a shiver go through his whole body. He could feel Jack's eyes on him, see the soft, bittersweet smile out of the corner of his eye. Jack raised his hand to speak.

"Don't," Arthur snapped. "Don't say a single word, Jack Seward."

Jack stood instead and walked to his side, planting a kiss on his head. "I'm proud of you, just the same," he signed, before using his hand to feel along Arthur's neck for his pulse. He pulled back and shook his head disapprovingly. "Blood pressure, young man, blood pressure."

"I said not a single word."

"I'll get you a cigarette."

"Jack!" Arthur grabbed his arm, and felt suddenly that Jack was the only real thing in this upside-down world where he had just allowed a vampire to start courting his daughter.

Jack paused, then settled himself onto Arthur's lap, linking his arms around him. In this position he couldn't speak, but he breathed long, slow breaths, his way of reminding Arthur to breathe, too. Arthur shuddered through several shaky breaths before he was able to slow enough to match Jack's pace.

The unknown loomed before them, like a great blackness in his mind. He couldn't protect their daughter forever. Lu would make her own decision, and then… well, then there was nothing to do but wait and see.

~~~

#my writing #blood of my blood #dracula fanfiction #quincey harker #arthur holmwood #jack seward

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