•°• 24 •°• Mostly just fandom ramblings •°• if I post a fic idea/creative prompt of some kind, please let me know if your use it as inspiration! I wanna see! •°•
Do you think Eden would tell their people that there used to be billions of trees, and the Last Tree is so important because humans have seldom lived without them?
This would probably make an even easier divide between Eden and the COI, or anything else tbh. They're unholy, able to live without something we as a species have lived with our entire existence.
I don't think they'd teach about different kinds of trees, just that there were a fuck ton of them around.
So when Simon gets pulled out of the ocean, into a habitable area (Hail Mary, Eridian ship, or bio dome) and learns about how many different trees there are, he gives Grace nicknames based on tree species.
I think it'd be cool if the pet names had different intentions behind them. Like Olive or Oak for when Grace is teaching/in teacher mode. Red Wood for when he wants the situation to go a certain way. Etc.
Why are there no DOCTOR WHO, PROJECT HAIL MARY FICS? CAN YOU IMAGINE GRACE AND ROCKY WAKING UP ONE DAY TO A MYSTERIOUS BLUE BOX? ONLY FOR THE DOCTOR TO OFFER GRACE A WAY HOME BEFORE BEING TURNED DOWN AT THE END AND FOR GRACE TO SAY, "this is my home."
Or
AN AU WHERE HE, ROCKY AND ADRIAN GO TRAVELLING WITH THE DOCTOR (IF ITS THE 11TH THEN HE AND GRACE BOND OVER ASEXUALITY) AND MAYBE RUN INTO SIMON IRON LUNG!?
Possible addition to the previous fanfic idea
THE DOCTOR AND SIMON BOND OVER THEIR PLANET DEATHS! BUT THE DOCTOR IS WARY ABOUT BRINGING A POSSIBLY MURDEROUS SOLDIER ON BOARD AT FIRST (THEY MAY HAVE FOUND THE BLACK BOX?) BUT GRACE COVINCES THEM TO LET HIM ON BOARD. (Maybe they save his universe too afterall, grqce rocky save stars once whats one more?)
(I'm not immune to coltland twin propaganda or simon being from the canon au universe or pocket dimention i cant remember from that one doctor who episode with the collected distress calls and patchwork people, the one where the tardis becomes a human(?))
At this point i might just write the fucking thing myself.
(If any of you lovely people out there on tumblr do write one plz tell me!)
I swear to fucking god. I would claw out OneDrive from my computer if I could. I would burn down their servers if I could. I would run down their stocks to the ground if I could. I hope every single one of their workers gets a better offer from a competitor in the next 24 hours. I hope every single one of their light bulbs explodes at the same time. I hope every single carton of milk in their fridge will always be expired.
Stop backing up my fucking files.
Stop asking me to back up my fucking files.
Stop taking my fucking files off my fucking computer.
I don't want a fucking reminder in three fucking days. Let me fucking say no.
yeah, they did. I wrote up a big long post about the Trevor Project and the 12 hour charity livestream I'm participating in right now, and they deleted it. twice. We've raised over $50,000 for a legitimate charity but because it helps trans kids it gets deleted from the site
I'm sorry fellow BloodyMary/Iron Lung fans. I understand the appeal of Simon, I do. He's a buff, pathetic man, covered in blood, constantly whimpering. But he's not enjoying it, is he? He's forced into it. It's all trauma and no actual fun.
Gomez Addams would do all of that and more AND ENJOY IT. Plus! He knows how to swordfight!
Yes, he's married. No, he would never cheat on Morticia. But he doesn't need to be single to be sexy.
He can and will do everything for those he loves. He will simultaneously kill and die. His bliss is being strung along, tortured, and torturing. He is both in control and a well-trained dog heeling for its master.
He wants nothing more than to be a pathetic lump of flesh, whimpering and covered in blood (his own or someone else's, he doesn't care), begging for whatever his wife will give him.
Or he can be something terrifying, a real monster, something no normal man (and certainly not Simon) would ever willingly become, if given a single command.
He lives to serve and please and torture and terrify. How can y'all not vote for him?
Hey, we’re in line for some absurd temperatures here in the southwest this week. This is very important to know and keep in mind. Be safe, stay hydrated, stay out of the sun as much as you can.
When you meet Edward Elric he gives off the impression that he's the short-tempered hot-headed "violence is the answer to all life's questions" kind of protagonist, and it's in fact incredible character craft that he's actually the character who ends the series with a negative-3 kill count.
God's worst soldier Edward Elric. Showed up as the youngest member of the Amestrian army, took millions of dollars from them, never followed a single order, helped dismantle their fascist regime, left with a lower kill count than he arrived with, then fucked off to go be a house-husband. Character of all time.
The Angels Mercy AU by @currishfoolborngudgeon and @beloved13579.
Yes I'm writing fan fiction for fan fiction. Bite me.
Grace really needed to stretch is wings. He often ran into this problem. Not properly exercising had always been a bit of an issue, even on Earth. But Rocky had built his house on a bit of a cliff specifically so he could get enough altitude to glide. Avian hybrids could glide back on Earth, but couldn't quite generate enough thrust to really fly. Let alone on a planet with higher gravity like Erid.
But he had patrocinated enough already. Time to bite the bullet.
Grace stood at the edge of the cliff his house was on. He looked out over the beach especially made for him and the bio dome. Picking out a spot to land. Then finally Grace takes the leap.
Its easy to glide down a short distance. When you are using wings specifically creating to work with physics. Grace flaps his wings occasionally, but its more for his sake than actually creating any lift.
Finally he lands on the beach. Flapping his wings a few times on the way down to slow his descent. Gosh he really needed that. Even if that probably wasn't enough to properly exercise, it good enough for Grace.
What Grace hadn't know was Simon was watching his whole decent, enthralled by the short display of his angel using his wings.
"Maybe not an angel" Simon muttered to himself, "But he really does look like one."
Simon was slowly coming to terms with what this place really was. Still convinced it was the afterlife, but maybe with time, he could accept something else.
But that didn't matter right now. All he could hope for was for Grace to glide on his way to class more often so he could watch.
much longer-but still short, both less and more fluffy (idk how either), vague mentions of sexual habits (no details), acceptance of care, vague anxiety, more balanced on the hurt/comfort, mention of sex as an expectation, subversion of expectations.
He can tell when Grace wakes up, being held closer and allowing himself to hold the Angel closer in return, then feeling him go rigid before relaxing. He shifts, and squirms, and weakly tries to pull away, but never really commits to any of the movements when Simon holds him in place or pulls him back. It does get annoying though, and Simon eventually presses a hand between his Savior's wings to keep him in place. Grace sucks in a breath and freezes, and Simon knows he's fucked up. He quickly fixes his hand placement, moving to right above his Angel's tail bone.
"'m s'rry 'ngel…" He manages to get out, looking up at Grace, and isn't it just the most beautiful sight? His Angel, his Grace, looking down at him with such an expression; cheeks flushed and eyes wide, dilated, surely meant to mimic an animal's eyes when hunting, but Simon would tell himself, for right now, that it was completely human, like the look he'd seen on some of his Brother's faces when looking at someone they shouldn't be. "Didn' mean t' touch 'em…"
Simon knows the wings are sensitive, despite Grace using them frequently for mundane things. He would use them to gather papers that got scattered on the floor, or to position a dining chair, but Simon's both favorite and least favorite use of those wings is when Grace would herd and guide him with them. He used to do it a lot more, maybe it was a way to get him used to closeness, to touch. Grace's wings would simply hover over or around his shoulders, not even pushing him closer, he just…moved closer. It seemed to be what the Angel wanted, and it had been so long since Simon had been that close to someone without hurting them.
Once, when Simon was especially tired, he had felt the gentle brush of those feathers on his shoulder and leaned into it. Not a lot, he knew he couldn't rely on the limb for support, but they were so soft. Grace had gone rigid, quickly pulling his wing away from Simon. He'd apologized, for some reason unknown to Simon, saying that his wings are sensitive to touch. Simon simply nodded and made sure he'd never cross that line again. And now he almost had. He buries his face in Grace's chest, holding the- the man closer, wishing they could somehow, impossibly, be even closer.
"I-it's okay. Just- wasn't expecting it. That's all." Grace says, finally, pulling Simon from his thoughts. He feels fingers weave into his hair and he feels something tight in his chest- relax… just a bit. Enough for his breath to shake before he lets himself relax. It feels so nice to be held like this, with no expectation of payment or something more.
His Healer didn't pull away, instead relaxing into him just as much. Simon supposed that he wouldn't be punished for almost touching the wings he was currently wrapped up in, so he let his mind wander.
He'd had passing relations with strangers, one notable relationship with another member of Eden that was now long gone. The nights in passing were always fast and desperate, needing to get through it as fast as possible without getting caught. Eden was a cult, Simon could admit that, one that didn't value reproduction, since they would all die soon anyway. And it's not like anyone could get the nutrition necessary to actually get past the first few weeks anyway. He'd hated those flights of fancy, simply brought on by base human desire and need for connection. He's had needs here, sure, but he also has the privacy to deal with it himself.
Apparently, Grace had been very adamant about the bedrooms and bathrooms specifically being made "sound proof" so even Eridians couldn't see inside if they themselves weren't in the room. There were windows, to let light in, but they were higher up than the other windows in the house, and seemed to be layered similarly to the walls. Simon found the silence deafening at first, still did, but then Grace had given him a portable computer, and it could produce sound. Any sound he liked. And he knew that, no matter how loud he played it, it wouldn't bother Grace.
He thinks about it all for a while. About how Grace had given him so much- so much grace and privacy and these luxuries that could only exist in heaven, yet insisted that they were both still alive and mortal. His Angel might be delusional, but that's okay. It's what made him so kind. Simon wouldn't take that from him, not like Eden had taken so much from him. A thought passes briefly, that he could want more with his Angel, if Grace wanted more. But for now? This, laying and basking in each other's company, holding each other lovingly, was perfect.
Simon hears Grace's stomach growl, then feels his own respond in kind. Grace groans, holding him tighter and complaining about not wanting to get up. Simon isn't sure why they would have to, he'd gone hungry longer for something less valuable than an Angel's touch. He doesn't say that. Instead, he simply says that they could stay here, mimicking Grace's tight hold. Grace sighs and relaxes, pulling away slightly and looking down at him again. Still just as pretty. Grace says something jokingly about eating being important and not wanting to feel hunger pains again, and that's all the reason Simon needs to get up and start on breakfast. No, he couldn't let his Savior suffer hunger pains. Especially since he's already felt them. Once (or however many times, Simon didn't know and didn't care) was already too much.
He's got the food cut up and cooking when Grace follows him in. They've started a routine; Grace liked knowing what he was eating, and Simon like explaining his thought process while cooking, so he rambled about the vegetables he'd picked and how he'd seasoned and cut the meat and what he's cooking it in for how long and- arms are around his waist where the shirt he's wearing had ridden up, forehead on his shoulder, wings vaguely surrounding them, Grace's weight loosely against him. He freezes, not expecting it. There's a small shift.
"If you tell me to stop, I will." Grace says, and for a moment, Simon thinks that this will go further. He nods and relaxes, letting Grace know that he could, that Simon would let him. He'd be happy to, really, if that's what Grace wanted. But then he hears Grace coo and try to nuzzle the crook of his neck before hissing in pain. Simon tenses at the reminder of last night, but doesn't pull away, especially not as Grace rests his chin on Simon's shoulder instead.
"I'm sorry." Simon says, Grace hums.
"What for?" He asks, and Simon can't decide if his Angel has forgotten, forgiven him, or is trickinghim into admitting guilt. He takes a breath, deciding to risk the third. Grace has shown no malice in the months Simon's been here, no intentional manipulation.
"For hurting you." He says, and Simon still feels as if he'll be smitten where he stands as he answers. Laying out his guilt for all to see, even if it's just Grace here. He feels his Savior's arms tighten around him, not pulling him back, but standing tall and holding him firm against the suddenly all encompassing warmth of his Angel's chest.
"You've already apologized more than enough, I've already forgiven you." His Grace says, soft and kind, yet firm. There's no need to dwell on this transgression, it's been judged and forgiven. Just like every other before it. Vaguely, Simon recalls old stories his mother would tell him where someone would refer to a ruler as "your grace." Maybe he could simply start calling Grace 'King', or 'Lord'. But that's for another time. For now, Simon would enjoy being held as he worked, feeling Grace trace nothing on his skin.
Slowly continuing my AU through drabbles and ficlets
Very soft, more comfort than hurt, very short, mentions of being touch starved, Grace POV.
Simon's arm is wrapped around his chest, and Grace ignored how close the hand was to the base of his wings- until Simon gets fed up with his shifting and attempts at getting up. His hand firmly presses between Grace's wings, holding him closer and making him suck in a breath as he freezes.
"'m s'rry 'ngel…" Simon murmurs, moving his hand away from his wings, instead pressing into the small of Grace's back. Grace looks down at Simon, seeing the groggy, barely awake, fond expression on the man's face. "Didn' mean t' touch 'em." He mutters, but doesn't loosen his hold around Grace at all. His voice is lower than usual, which is saying something when compared to the warm timbre and bass he usually speaks in. If his usual voice is warm than this is… hot. Too hot.
Grace can feel his cheeks heating up, the proximity and attention suddenly becoming too much. But he can't bring himself to pull away, to unwrap himself from the brunette, let Simon free from his all-encompassing hold. Grace realizes he's been silent too long, as Simon buries his face back into Grace's chest.
"I-it's okay. Just- wasn't expecting it. That's all." He tries to ignore thoughts of holding Simon closer, maybe even holding him while Grace taught him how to preen. One of Grace's hands finds it's way into Simon's hair, gently running across his scalp. Simon takes a shuddering breath and relaxes. It seems both of them have been craving something like this for a long time.
They stay like that until their stomachs start to growl. They both reluctantly get up, but as soon as Grace says they need to Simon stops fighting to stay. He still looks sleepy, like he could do with another few hours of sleep, but he gets up and heads for the kitchen, starting to cook something that smells so much better than anything Grace tried to make before the brunette got here.
Grace moves to follow, his wings dragging behind him as he yawns. The mess of feathers on the couch could be cleaned up later… huh… Grace couldn't remember the last time he felt like he didn't have to clean up every feather he shed. Well, besides around Rocky, eventually. Rocky still saw it as messy, but understood it was a comfy messy that meant Grace felt safe and welcome. There were probably still feathers strewn around the Hail Mary, but Grace has been keeping this house pretty clean, outside of his bedroom, anyway.
He decides to analyze these thoughts later; right now, he needed his walking heater back. He lazily made his way into the kitchen, hearing Simon start to explain what he's making. Something about barely seasoned meat and chopped veggies. A breakfast stir-fry? Grace didn't care, it'll be good. He walks up behind Simon and wraps his arms around the man's waist, resting his forehead on his shoulder.
He feels Simon's posture turn rigid as his voice stutters to a halt, and Ryland feels a bit of guilt for not giving him a heads up. "If you tell me to stop, I will." He says softly. When Simon nods, then relaxes into him, he can't help but coo and nuzzle into Simon's neck. Then hisses in pain as his face reminds him of why they ended up on the couch in the first place. He whines and settles for resting his chin on Simon's shoulder instead. Simon is tense again, but he's not frozen.
"I'm sorry." He says, Grace hums.
"What for?" He asks, barely tightening his hold on the brunette's waist. Simon pauses his movements, then continues to stir the food in the skillet.
"For hurting you." He says it quietly, like something that shouldn't be admitted aloud, his voice sounds weak, almost shaking. Grace pulls himself flush with Simon's back, hugging him tight.
"You've already apologized more than necessary, I've already forgiven you." He says softly, tracing nonsense patterns on the exposed skin of Simon's stomach, hoping it's comforting.
Can avian hybrids fly? Since @beloved13579 didn't include avian!Grace in their OG post I want to know from you, the expert.
Why do I ask this? No reason. I wasn't trying to think of ideas for stuff to write- wait who said that. Must have been the wind.
The fun with AUs of how each person interprets them, so have fun with either! Personally, I think they should be able to. But keep in mind that to be able to fly they need hollow bones, and are thus VERY light compared to non-avian hybrids, despite any muscle mass they might have.
@beloved13579 do you have any thoughts on avian hybrids?
You fools! You've activated one of my secret interest!
So there's a lot I can get into when it comes to avians. Biology, culture, discrimination, social structures, but I also like to just gloss over all of that and say they're neat :3
I think avians would be able to glide easily. Flying I would think more like an emu or ostrich, they just can't. Whilenwings are strong enough to get you safely to the ground, theres no way to actually generate thrust. Wing are still an integral part of avian society tho! They're used to bond with others, display emotions, and (to me) can be used like any other limb (like how people can use their feet to grab things. Semiprehensile). Flirting through wings is common, but varies regionally (and from social status. Think Fan language). Wings can be treated like hair, in the sense that there's wing care products, professional groomers, dyes, used for self expression, can display medical symptoms (like feathers becoming brittle from low vitamins), and such.
Depending on how common avians are, discrimination and accommodations would be a factor. I like escapism, so I typically think of worlds without any type of discrimination. (Get enough of that in the real world 😒). Accommodations wise, clothing, furniture, vehicles, buildings would all have to function with avians in mind. I'm thinking its like ADA.
Poor birb Grace in space. Extra ungraceful with 6 uncoordinated limbs lmaoo. And in a small space? Oof.
You've said semi-prehensile and now all I can think of is Grace using his wings to guide/herd student tour groups as a chaperone back on earth. And then also doing the same with Simon when he's trying to get Simon more comfortable with being close to him. He just, gently pulls the guy closer, trying to silently say like "it's okay, I don't know what you're afraid of, but it's okay, I won't hurt you. And I won't let anyone else hurt you." Equally protective and guiding.
