#auxanges

i don’t think i’m very well spoken today. i woke up to shit in my inbox and just wanted to yell because I just woke up, can I have a few hours to not have this on my plate, jesus.

OH MAN OKAY HOLY SHIT THAT’S REALLY SWEET??

also which one of you shits sent that around again

THAT SAID I did indeed continue it on Ao3! I wrote and with her they came at maybe two in the morning and honestly it just sort of Happened. It’s part of the Tidal Rebellion Universe (or tidalverse), which is a rebellionstuck verse that I REALLY need to dedicate more time to working on

I should also mention that THIS FUCKING NERD wrote a fic based off the Eridan section because she A. has no chill and B. loves Amporas, that nerd. (it’s glorious. go read in the heart, a kind of fighting right now, all of you)

(also, I’m dating her)

SO TIDAL BASICALLY HAPPENED because I have way too many feelings about seadwellers, comments like this are a REALLY GOOD WAY to make me have MORE feelings about seadwellers and WRITE MORE and also I had a good idea for a bit about fighting and dreams and LONG STORY SHORT @admiral-trashcan I HAVE IDEAS THAT I NEED TO GO WRITE DOWN NOW AND THEY ARE ALL YOUR FAULT

(also I’m trying to talk @thii2ii2tupiid into writing the sollux part SO)

Astronaut - rooted Greek; Astro + nautes; ‘Star sailor’

When you’d said you’d wanted to be a Captain this was not what you’d meant. Yet somehow, you wouldn’t give it up for all the colonies in the Empire.

Instead of a sturdy ship aboard the waters made of wood and iron, upon your promotion to Captain you’d been given a starship; made of titanium and glass and made to travel much farther and faster than you could have ever imagined. 

Being an Orphaner was no longer your destiny. Alternia was no longer your home. Feferi had assigned you a better role upon her ascension to Empress. 

(It had nothing to do with her lusus currently being cared for by other, younger, trolls.)

The ship was scheduled to lift off from its current port at a storage outpost in less than ten minutes. You stood tall and proud, overlooking the trolls under your command with your hands clasped behind your back, a frown on your handsome features. You ruled your ship with a commanding tone these days, one that’d lost its anxious wwavver of days past and traded it in for something husky and sharp. 

No one underneath you would dare question your command like they would the boy who you’d once been.

Your vision blurs for a moment, focuses on your reflection instead. You’d grown into a straight-laced and stern troll, no longer carrying your violet colour in your hair but on your uniform, two jagged slashes across the back of your jacket and on your lapel in shining violet and gold embroidery. You’d exchanged your thick plastic rimmed glasses for something small and oval, sitting framed by gold wire on the bridge of your nose. 

Feferi said she liked how distinguished it made you look. Mature though you may be, you would still follow her to the ends of the Empire and if she liked it, so did you.

The ship’s engines underneath you rumbled, pulling you from your thoughts. You were beginning the process of stabilizing and pulling away from the satellite outpost. Any green in the gills sailor would have been knocked off balance by the sudden jerk, but you. You’ve been sailing your whole life on some ship or another. You’re used to this.

The ship disembarks and suddenly, you’re visually reminded of why you never want to go back to Alternia.

It’s the stars. 

Bright and shining, spinning in vast whorls and forming huge clusters and constellations. Planets dotted your view of the cluster galaxy, pinging on your radar, but visible as giants that sometimes even blotted out the system’s sun from your windows. There’s a whole universe out there, vaster than any sea and infinitely more full - yet, somehow, achingly empty. 

You long to reach out, extend your hand and touch every last corner, know the universe more intimately than you even know yourself. You want to see it all, experience everything the universe has to offer. You want to see new planets, name new stars and constellations after people you’ve known, people you’ve yet to know--

“Captain?”

A voice whispers in your ear; you’d forgotten that you had your communicator in. With a sigh, you answer it. “Yes, I’m here.”

“The inventory is done tallying. Mind coming down and signing off on it?”

A Captain’s work is never done. You nod, despite no one being around to see it. “I’ll be right down.” You say. With one last look out the portside window, you head to the cargo bay of your ship.

You are a loyal Captain, a fierce commander. You are also in love with the stars. 

M. When it rains/snows/storms.

-

He steals kisses when he’s sure you’re asleep, like he doesn’t know how freely you’d give them to him if he only asked. That’s always been the problem, with him, with you, with the both of you. Neither of you think to ask. Neither of you do anything but assume.

But it’s storming, storming bad, and the marks are still shining silvery on your skin, in a way that makes you remember what’s little more than a distant dream for him.

(fire. light. lightning and burning and pain–)

You stumble out of the water, soaked and gasping, panic in every inch of you, as you stagger to his hive–

–and he’s waiting, waiting and ready, a towel and open arms and you ignore the first and dive into the second, pressing him into a kiss he didn’t have to steal and never needed to ask for–

–it’s different, when it storms, and he catches you up and holds you so close you think he’s scared you’ll fall to pieces.

CROCHET BROS!!!