If you see this and you are an awesome creator you are dead now, I don’t make the rules. They/them, Just be warned I occasionally like stuff which is either actual garbage, or its fandom is actual garbage, so yeah. South African who says Free Palestine🇿🇦🇵🇸 My name isn’t really Goose but that’s what I go by online so whatever. Chronic multishipper.
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Observed Continuity (Eva Stratt and Ryland Grace have DID fic) chapter 12 (ao3) (ch 1 & 2)
Tw// implications of parental neglect, graphic descriptions of a non-posessive switch, crazy and insane used to discredit experiences
Ryland can trust Carl.
Right?
Sure, he's... some sort of security officer of Eva's, and working together for a few weeks does not an accomplice make. But they had built quite the rapport together during that time, and who the hell else is he supposed to trust with this? Stratt has been avoiding him (though he isn't sure where that idea came from), Ilyukhina is being weird about it, and certainly not the doctor. Someone has to know. This can't fester and rot in his system forever (or, okay it can. He's terrified, and if he thought he could shut this down he would. But every time he thinks he's getting away from it, something in his brain patches him through to someone else with something to say. Worse still is the feeling he's carrying a child. Not in the sense there's a pit settling in his lower abdomen, but moreso in the sense that he feels like he's experiencing his body twice: one with his head in his hands sitting on these steps, and the other is standing with a preschool to maybe 3rd grade aged child held against his side. The kid wants to cry. Ryland gets an idea. What's your name, kiddo?
Aiden, the kid mumbles. Ryland has to stop his actual, real life thumb from going in his mouth. Not with Carl right here, Aiden.
"Do you need me to take you to see Dr. Guanyu?" Carl asks, watching how Grace holds himself. How Ryland holds Aiden, and vice versa.
"No!" He sits up suddenly. "Er, no. I'm fine, really."
"Then why did you run off?"
"It's hard to explain." No it isn't. "I've been doing some reading in my free time and I guess it made me realize some things about myself?" Carl seems to attempt to connect all the dots. The kid doesn't want to tell him, Ryland can tell, we can handle this ourselves, we don't want to be a bother. But it's too late for that, it's clearly too late for that. Carl clears his throat.
"So, do you still want to be called D-- hm. I guess Dr. Grace is gender neutral." Carl muses out loud.
"What?" Ryland gets knocked from his own thoughts.
"Oh, sorry. My nephew is trans, you kinda sounded like he did when he was coming out." Carl shrugs. Grace blinks.
"Does that cause the amnesia or the multiple voices in my internal monolouge?" Grace asks. Not in a mean way, but a genuinely confused one. Is that normal for trans-- no, no it isn't. Someone is mad at him internally. Great.
"Dunno." Carl says after a moment. "Stress can do some pretty weird things, though."
"It can." Grace rubs at his temple. "That's what I thought too." Carl waits. Grace isn't usually this quiet. Usually, if he has an idea, it spills out of him in one uninterrupted torrent. If he hesitates too long Carl will pick up on it, but saying it is like lifting weights with his tongue. "I've been reading." He admits.
"I gathered."
"Neurology. Psychology." He breaks again, the hesitation only drawing attention to it. "Trauma." Carl nods slowly.
"And?" Grace picks at the seam of his jeans. Faster, Ryland, presenting a claim requires confidence. But Aiden starts to fuss in his arms, metaphorically.
"I don't think I'm psychotic." He says through the discomfort. Carl doesn't answer immediately.
"...Okay."
"I don't hear voices." Grace frowns. "Not really. It's not like they're coming through my ears. They're..." He gestures vaguely beside his head. "Internal. People thinking in my head, but they aren't inserted they're just--" it takes Ryland too much time to find his words, this time. Carl speaks for him.
"You've mentioned that."
"They remember things I don't. Their memories aren't mine but they feature places and people I know." Carl's expression shifts. "They have opinions I don't. They have names and different ages." Silence. Grace swallows. "And one of them..." He laughs once, humorlessly. "Really didn't want to be found." Carl looks through the stairs behind them.
"...Fair." Carl sighs.
"I wasn't looking for me, but I guess I found myself in the process." Ryland puts his right hand on his left shoulder and looks up. The pressure is comforting. Like holding and being held at the same time.
"And?"
"It's not good." Ryland sighs. Carl leans his elbows onto his knees.
"What?" He's staring as Ryland brings his gaze back. Ryland looks down at the deck.
"...Dissociative identity disorder." Carl blinks. The ocean fills the silence.
"I know, you don't know what that is." Grace holds up a hand before Carl can respond. "It used to be called multiple--"
"I've... heard of it. You think that's what's happening?" Ryland blinks. Either it's not as rare as Ryland has been lead to believe, or Carl is far more worldly than expected.
"I think..." Grace hesitates. "...it's the first explanation that accounts for all of it." Carl watches him for a long moment.
"And you're sure this isn't just because you hit your head?" Ryland laughs. Carl doesn't.
"I'd love that." Ryland puts his head in his hands. "I would really love that."
"...You'd love brain damage?"
"I'd love something with a little more research available." Ryland feels the bitterness seeping through his tone. He doesn't want to be experiencing this. He can only imagine how much worse it is for Stratt, who's job is on the line. Well, our job is on the line too, dipshit. The silence settles again. Carl rouses up a question.
"Who were you looking into it for?" Grace hesitates. He could lie. He should lie. Especially to Carl, given his position. His mouth moves without him. He can hear the difference, like he was trying to speak like a kid. Can Carl?
"I think Stratt has it too." Carl barks a laugh. Grace doesn't. The laugh dies almost immediately.
"...You're serious."
"I didn't mean to say that."
"C'mon, Grace."
"I don't disagree, though." Carl shakes his head.
"I've worked with her for years."
"I know." Grace shakes his head.
"She doesn't--"
"Disappear and can't tell you where she's been?" Carl stops. "Forget conversations she had yesterday? Switch between writing with her right hand and her left? Lucy is the right handed one, by the way." Carl stops looking at him. Silence. "Change accents? Jack is southern."
"...People pick up accents." Carl shakes his head.
"In a snap?" Carl can't find what to say. Grace continues quietly.
"I've watched her become a different person. I've carried some little Dutch girl in her brain up three flights of stairs. Didn't speak a lick of english. Jack smokes but Stratt doesn't, he's the one who gave me these!" His voice starts to become frantic as he pulls out a pack of vanilla flavored cigarettes.
"You've been under a lot of stress. How do you know you're not-- well--" Carl practically cringes at trying to say it.
"Crazy?" Grace prompts. "How do I know I'm not crazy? I'm mentally ill apparently, but I'm not breaking from reality."
"You've been missing days."
"That's not a symptom of psychosis."
"You've got... whatever's happening to you."
"Still potentially not psychosis." Carl rubs both hands over his face.
"So you're telling me..." He pauses. "You think the two smartest people on this ship have the same incredibly rare psychiatric condition." Ryland winces.
"It has an estimated one to two percent occurance, which doesn't sound like a lot but it's more people than people who have red hair."
"It still sounds insane."
"It... does." Ryland admits. Even when the numbers back it up, he doesn't want to accept how possible it is. He feels himself start to well up. He's being ignored again. In his imagination, he gently strokes Aiden's hair.
"...But." Grace looks at him. Carl doesn't meet his eyes. "...I've noticed some of what you're talking about." Ryland stays silent. Tries to fight off how much he's feeling less like himself and more like the kid he's holding mentally.
"I've worked security around Stratt for almost eight years. There have been..." Carl searches for the words. "...days where she'd greet me twice. Differently. Days where she'd ask me the same question an hour apart. Days where she seemed to go from the verge of tears to perfectly fine in a milisecond." Another pause. "I figured she wasn't sleeping." Grace nods slowly.
"Me too."
"But I don't think she would have gotten this far, if it were true." Carl says. Something about it breaks Grace. He wants to cry, wants to scream then what about me? I made it this far but nothing comes out. He starts to cry. Or maybe his body does, it starts to shake. He wipes his face with the heels of his palms, pushing his glasses down.
"Hold on, just give me a second, sorry." There's a deep seated desire for his mother, the gentle touch of comfort she gave when she could. But she isn't here, and she'd get mad for how much he had to rely on her. The stuffed fox he grew up with comes to mind, a comfort. It never came to the ship, though. It's still in his bed at home. That fact alone makes him sob. Carl puts a hand on his back and rubs gently. He can't get any kind of explanation out of his mouth. Just blubbering, and he starts to chew on his thumb. Carl says something. It's hard to hear right when he's this upset. He says it again, a little more urgently.
"Ryland?" He hears finally. His head shakes. Technically, that's him. Technically.
"Aiden." He mumbles around his thumb. "I'm sorry for crying, I can go to my room so it's not loud, I can--" Ryland isn't thinking to say any of this. The kid in his arms is the one at the steering wheel, now. It's weird. Ryland wipes their eyes, shushes Aiden. You're okay, kid. You're safe.
"Woah, hey." Carl cuts him off. "You're fine right here. We're talking it out. What can I do to help?"
"I want my stuffed animal." Aiden pulls his thumb out of his mouth and wipes it on their shirt. Thanks, bud. Carl nods.
"Is it in your room?"
"It's back at home." The tears start again.
"Well, I'm sure we can find something soft in the meantime, until you can get home again." And we don't have to go get the real one. You hear that Carl? We don't need the real one. Do not go to out apartment and get the real one. Please. "You wanna go see what we can find?" Carl stands and offers a hand. Aiden nods and wipes his face on his sleeve before taking Carl's hand.
…. Someone should write a fic where Stratt DOES have the coma gene, so she’s first in line as commander of the Hail Mary the whole time, even thought they tell people it’s Yao to avoid the “wahhhh it’s a conflict of interest-“ bullshit. And for a while it’s just her, they haven’t found any astronaut candidates with the gene and it’s looking like maybe they won’t find any, like maybe the one in seven thousand chance is just too slim - and then a positive test comes in. Stratt’s singular private security detail, the quiet shadow none of the world leaders or grand scientists recognized. A man she’d hauled along with her from his post as a security guard in her old office building before she was named unofficial world leader extraordinaire.
When asked why she only kept one security guard, and why she’d chosen Carl, Stratt usually refused to answer. Then Grace asked.
(Carl had brought her coffee once, late at night while she was hunched over her desk. Her old desk, back when she was head of a minor Dutch ecological research institute and not supreme god-empress of the world or whatever she was now. He’d kept note of her order from the cups in her trash. And two weeks into his new job, he’d taken the gene test without her knowing. When she asked him why, he’d merely muttered “Hated the idea of you up there, alone.”)
even as they find more candidates, and Carl is bumped down the list of potential astronauts to “backup’s backup,” she keeps offering him classes. Little engineering crash courses in his spare time, ways for him to keep up on what he might need, should the unthinkable happen. He’d been halfway through a mechanical engineering associates when she’d hired him, working long hours and taking night classes. Even as she assigns Carl to Grace, and then they all move into the tight, sweaty, cramped quarters of the aircraft carrier, there’s that little bond of Knowing between them.
Knowing that Stratt won’t be around to be the world’s whipping boy after the Mary launches, despite what they’ve told the world media. Knowing that every few days, Carl sets aside a few evening hours to memorize the specs of the Hail Mary, despite the fact that he’ll probably never need to use them. Knowing that Grace is getting those same little crash courses in between board meetings and scientific breakthroughs, without his realizing, because Carl slipped a vial of his blood to the testing team not 14 hours after they’d first met and he’s a perfect backup plan.
And then the unthinkable does happen. An explosion in the biochemical lab, the entire science and engineering team gone, and Stratt doesn’t have to ask whether Carl will do it. Frankly, she doesn’t have to ask if Grace will, either. They both Know.
Three astronauts have to die in space. A pilot, an engineer, and a scientist.
Self indulgent AU where I save my favourite woman who has done NOTHING WRONG EVER! from imprisonment and ostracization by shooting her to space with her ambiguous dead wife, whom she killed
"Hey Stratt, Dr Grace is a normal biologist right? Just a biologist? Not an engineer? You sure? He knows a lot about engines and materials. You're sure he's not got an engineering degree up in that head of his? positive?"
My favourite Adrian headcanon is that they're a biologist/zoologist who has seen so much shit, they're completely unphased by any and every alien habit of Grace's.
I mean full-on khaki-shorts-wearing, traversing-wilderness-with-nothin'-but-a-machete Adrian who yoinks snakes outta trees and pets swamp puppies and will unflinchingly dig around in elephant faeces for signs of a rare parasitic tapeworm if needed.
Oh, humans eat socially? No problem, Adrian has observed many many animals eat. Did you know that an obscure species of small underground dirt creature from the north side of Erid also eats socially? Adrian can give you a not-so-short presentation on them.
Oh, the human has no external carapace and so its internal sounds are absurdly loud, wet and off-putting? No problem, Adrian was just conducting an expedition last month researching the incredible eridian animal, the Wet Loud Worm from the south-east region of Wet Loud Wormland. They're desensitised, it's fine.
Oh, Grace leaks often from many orifices and it can be a bit of a learning curve to get used to? No problem for Adrian, see Wet Loud Worm paragraph again!
Meanwhile, Rocky is bewildered as to how he's managed to third-wheel both of his relationships, because both Adrian and Grace are nerds who nerd out about things, and Adrian is shaking in their carapace with enthusiasm to learn more about human culture and biology, not to mention everything about earth animals. And yeah, sure, Grace might be a molecular biologist, but he'll be damned if he'll pass up an opportunity to learn about alien fauna from a fellow scientist, and yes, Adrian, he'd love to hear about the small underground dirt creature from the north side of Erid, and he's so excited to learn more about the Wet Loud Worm, do go on.
That “cringe” nonbinary xenogender genderfuck therian who uses neopronouns and may or may not go on HRT while being loudly, proudly themselves will always be more revolutionary and subversive than a binary trans person who aggressively reproduces the cis status quo and shames anyone who doesn’t do the same.
"Men Aren't Better Than Women: Both Genders Are Inferior To Me" is a 1991 book by Dr. Ivo Robotnik (better known for other work). Though its primary purpose is clearly to stroke the author's own ego, it is generally regarded as a comprehensive, well-constructed, and accessible work of contemporary feminist theory, and is still commonly-cited to this day.
Most of the critical complaints have been about the tone; in a review from 2005, Professor Victoria of Spagonia University said, "The constant self-aggrandizement undercuts the idea that its subject ought to be taken seriously. Also, wasn't the 'feminist' line from the Sonic Heroes manual a mistranslation of 'womanizer'?"
In 2026, Dr. Robotnik released a new edition updated for the preceding 35 years of developments in feminism, with the subtitle changed from "Both Genders" to "All Genders."
I love Rocktiz, but I can't draw him with human Grace because I'm just too attached to the interspecie bond between Grace and Rocky. It's the soul of the movie and its so beautiful.
The human Rocky AU and eridian Grace AU down there, since i really liked the linearts its a shame they're so hidden
the way i think that simon and grace can both be “human” is that simon is from a neighboring solar system. One which had a similar evolutionary path that we had, and was the petrova line’s origin point. The planet may have gotten the same moniker as “Earth” because humans, when given a dirt planet will always default back to the name “Earth”. I think it’s also almost more tragic if the second earth had a much smaller habitable zone which also meant that there were naturally less humans, and less resources, to begin with. Thus, when the stars started dying, second earth was almost powerless to stop it.
So kinda like a Star Trek TOS duplicate/parallel Earth type of situation? Or how there’s hundreds of alien species in Star Trek essentially indistinguishable from humans with varying explanations.
(Damn, now I kinda want to see a Star Trek crossover where BOTH Grace AND Simon are from a parallel Earth and the federation exists at the same time-)
Palestinian children were prevented from going to school by razor wire and israeli soldiers — so they sat down and studied right in front of them (via AndreyX)
