#i saw her in the pilot 5 years ago and ever since then I wanted to see more of her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aspiring-holistic-otaku · 1 year

Text

Ramble#11

This month's episode we focus on Naoki Urasawa, a living manga legend, a true goat of the medium and my number 1 favourite mangaka. Ever since I started this podcast, at least one episode on him was inevitable and even if I don't stick the landing I hope this encourages someone to go check out and even support his brilliant pieces of art.

I'll be following the usual format of things read this month and then going over older reads, this time going from least to most favourite. Afterwards in what I'd call a part 2 I'll be doing a bit of off the cuff ranting.

So without further adieu, let's get into it!

Urasawa works read this month:

Asadora! (2018 - present with 37 english translated chapters):

A young girl named Asa has her home town destroyed by a Kaiju that only she saw. For those unfamiliar with the term Kaiju, it's basically the genre of film centered around giant monsters, think Godzilla. Anyways, years later, after training to be a pilot so she can track the monster down as she's its only living witness, she's approached by a certain organization that's been tracking the beast, so she can be trained to defend the country.

Not really a first time read but the first time I checked it out in 2020 there was only like 15/20 chapters out so with there being like twice that now I figured I could put it as new + bite me

Not much to say as again there's not that many chapters but it was my first time seeing a female lead from urasawa and I thought it was cool that the first page of the first chapter set the time frame for this world threatening disaster as 2020, which was when I picked it up and around the time COVID kicked off, even though that chapter itself came out in 2018.

Yawara! (1986 - 1993) 331 chapters total but only 92 in English:

Trained by her 8 time national judo champion grandad to get an Olympic gold, Yawara has been doing judo since she could walk. But as she enters the springtime of her youth, she just wants to be a regular, cute and fashionable girl.

Now I figure some of you may be wondering "What's the problem? Why can't she have both?". Well firstly, you know fiction, there's no story without conflict no matter how ridiculous. But as the mc would put it, judo just isn't cute!

She thinks she'll be unapproachable if she becomes known for grappling and throwing people around which tbh is fair but if you know anything about training to be an athlete, especially an Olympic level athlete, the time dedicated to training is no small thing. In the manga her grandad makes her train every day starting at 6am before she goes to school then after school they train again at 6pm.

Again not the very first time I read it, basically I started like a year ago but only read like 5 chapters then got upset that it wasn't fully translated. Cause I figured if it's been complete since 1993 and in 2022 there's only 92 chapters translated I'd be blue balling myself to hell with what I assumed would be another urasawa great (side note, more reason for learning Japanese so I can be a translator)

And I'm feeling bittersweet in being correct in my thinking because I really really dug it. Very neat aesthetic I've gotta say as urasawa plays up yawara trying to be cute and dressing up and so forth. It was also my first time seeing urasawa not doing mystery, as Yawara is a fun light-hearted slice of life but it still has a great cast of distinctive characters with brilliant dynamics just as I've come to expect from all of urasawa's works.

Master Keaton (1988 - 1994) 144ch:

I'm just gonna go with the final volume's description here as it's pretty spot on

When the wall that separated the East and West falls, the twentieth century comes to an end and brings radical changes to the world. During this turbulent time, Taichi Hiraga Keaton has difficulty finding a job in archaeology even though his long line of cases as an insurance investigator doesn't seem to end. As he navigates through dangerous adventures, Keaton encounters some bittersweet lives…

If you glazed over for a minute there, basically the mc loves archeology, wants to be a professor and have his own dig sites and such but because of skills he picked up in the army, he has much better luck being an investigator.

Great scenery, neat characters but pretty episodic to the point where I'd want to call it an anthology as characters don't really carry forward much. There's a lot of nitty gritty details about wars, factions and etc. around the world in that time period which can be a bit overbearing at times but that's what give the characters and situations the impact they would have gotten if they stuck around longer.

Also gotta say it's pretty educational, not just in the mc basically being macgyver and building self defense weapons out of whatever is on hand kinda way, but it takes a good look at Europe and how fucked it was during that cold war period as it indirectly and directly references many real world events. Maybe it's just my lack of exposure but I haven't seen that much media outside of documentaries really pinpoint Europe and the effects of war there and not on a large high level country scale, I mean like really looking at the lives of civilians and how they lived and died during that time.

Lots of variety, as I said it's very episodic as almost every chapter has a different subject ranging from finding a lost animal to settling spats between holocaust survivors or proving a statue is fake

I also have to mention something I've always appreciated about Urasawa's works that really stood out in Master Keaton for me and that's the diverse and well done racial representation. There's people from everywhere and it doesn't have that feel manga tends to have of like a Japanese person drawing what they think other people look like or something, it just looks like a person drawing other people, feel like I'm wording that weirdly but that's how I'm wording it.

Happy! (1993 - 1999) 254ch:

One day a high school girl, Miyuki Umino that takes care of her 3 younger siblings on her own, is approached by Yakuza who tell her that her older brother ran out on loans amounting to 250mill yen, approx. 1.8M USD) and now she needs to pay up or be sold into prostitution.

While wondering what to do she sees on the news a tennis player earned that amount in winnings so she decides that despite the difficulty she has to try.

Pretty dark premise and I'm telling you she goes through some dark shit but it's a great story, brilliant characters as usual, loveable idiots abound, antagonists that you can really really hate. You don't have to be a fan of tennis at all to appreciate the heartwarming n heart wrenching ups and downs. Teared up at least twice.

This was my favourite Naoki Urasawa work I read for the first time this month, this manga really showed me Urasawa really has THAT range fr.

Older Urasawa reads:

Monster (1994 - 2001) 162 chapters, this was my 3rd read:

A promising young doctor, Kenzo Tenma, ignores his superiors orders to operate on their mayor and instead operates on a young boy called Johan, that came in first, as he firmly believes all lives are equal. The mayor dies and the boy is saved but this leads to unfair treatment by his superiors and being left by his fiance. Soon after, not only does the young boy disappear but his superiors die from poisoning, leaving him, staff and ofc the police baffled.

10 years later during a string of serial killings, a key witness ends up being a patient of Tenma's but is killed for trying to reveal this by Johan, the real killer, now a young man who reappears in front of the doctor. Even more shockingly, he reveals himself as the one who killed Tenma's superiors all those years ago. Because of similarities in the murderers then and now, police pin it all on Tenma so he goes on the run across Europe to find the young man and clear his name.

Undeniably engaging from the jump, the ever building draw being who the fuck is this Johan dude? where'd he come from? why the fuck is he killing all these people? etc. etc.

Great side characters as usual with interactions that I can only call truly genuine whether they were sweet or sour.

There's a lot of nice interplay on the meanings of life and death, the notions of fear and hope, humanity and the inhumane, all weaved into every intricate thread of this story.

Not to be a hater but personally its relative popularity, as in relative to his other works, is a little upsetting. I get that it was his first critically acclaimed banger but he's done so much since then that isn't talked about enough for me. His later stuff not having anime adaptations doesn't help but if you've read and watched enough media adaptations in general you know that tends to mean diddly squat in terms of the quality of the source material . The industry unfortunately runs more and more on fan service every day.

Pluto (2003 - 2009) 65 chapters, read 3x:

The destruction of one of Earth's greatest robots and the murder of a leading figure in international robot rights seem unrelated at first, but both bodies were made into some bizarre collage with the central motif/pattern being a pair of horns placed by their heads, making them obviously related. The confusing thing is that the only thing that could destroy one of Earth's greatest robots is an even stronger robot, but could a robot really be related to the murder a human? Gesicht, a robot detective is put on the case and eventually comes to realize that all of Earth's greatest robots, himself included are being targeted.

As you can expect with any futuristic robot media there's an exploration of the concept of humanity vs the artificial but it's done so tenderly for lack of a better word and I'm not sure how often it's done that way in these noir type beats. Especially from the viewpoint of a robot mc.

I've probably said this for all his works so far but there's brilliant cast, great dialogue, great art that the context pretty much demanded and even though it's based on an arc in Osamu Tezuka's tetsuwan atom, better known as astro boy in the west, the greatest robot on earth arc to be specific, Urasawa really rose to and in my mind completely surpassed the challenge of adapting the work of he who is called the God of manga.

Also like man it's so crazy good for how short it is, please read this.

20th century boys (1999 - 2006) 249 chapters + 16 in the wrapup sequel 21st century boys, I've read both 2x:

The story follows a group of childhood friends, now adults who are trying to patch together their memories in an effort to uncover a conspiracy that seems to be based on games they used to play about saving the world from destruction.

It's pretty difficult to describe the events of the story further but it definitely stands out in my mind as the grandest scale of anything Naoki Urasawa has ever done though I wouldn't put it past him to go further.

As I said the story follows friends trying to patch together memories so the time period goes back and forth quite a bit. It can be pretty jarring trying to follow it strictly by year so I'd recommend just thinking about it in three tone periods, namely; childhood, present day and miscellaneous flashbacks. Separating childhood from miscellaneous flashbacks as their childhood remains within a constant range but as the story moves forward and present day changes so does the range of flashbacks they have.

That should hint a bit at the scale of this whole thing but outside of the breadth, there's a depth of characterization and dynamic that I haven't seen elsewhere.

Side note, if the length is frightening it's the type of read I'd recommend savouring anyways.

Billy Bat (2008 - 2016) 165chapters, this is my 4th time reading this:

A Japanese American mangaka/cartoonist, Kevin Yamagata, suddenly has his workspace taken over by police claiming they're investigating one of his neighbours for being a Soviet spy. In the middle of protesting this, one of the officers sees the comic he's working on, Billy Bat. He says he's seen it before in Japan, basically calling Kevin's work a copy. Kevin takes offence but admits he was stationed in Japan for some time and may have seen it and subconsciously copied it. As one of the lasting lessons his father taught him was that you can't steal people's stuff, he goes to Japan to seek out this potential original creator.

The story unfolds as he meets an artist that tells him the bat is actually something passed down throughout history, throwing him right into the middle of several conspiracies concerning real key incidents throughout modern history.

On top of everything, the bat starts talking to him, urging him to find a supposedly important and immensely powerful scroll.

My favourite piece from urasawa, brilliant in every respect, please please please please read this.

That's it for this first part, if you're still here, thanks for listening, please please read these, urasawa is a goat, a legend a phenomenon.

Just to share some resources before I go into the part 2 bit which may have spoilers irdk yet, there were two YouTube videos I really liked that I highly recommend.

The first was 'The greatest mangaka of all time' by the masked man and second was 'A guide to manga's greatest master' by the omnibus collector.

The first video is about 10 minutes long and uses the quality of Monster, 20th century boys, Pluto and Billy Bat as their rationale for why Naoki Urasawa is the greatest mangaka of all time.

youtube

The second is 20 minutes and pretty much covers Naoki's entire career and body of work, giving pretty rad descriptions of all his pieces, inspirations for them and a bunch of other really neat info. Bonus For those of you who are int that sort of thing, they also show the physicals they own off all the manga they talked about. really appreciated that. thank you omnibus collector.

youtube

Really appreciated these videos as most animanga fans and discussions focus on monster, sometimes 20th century boys and rarely anything past that unless they're ranking which I'm really not interested in.

There's also a third video I mention in part 2 of the episode I'll link here as well.

youtube

Anyways thanks again for listening, stay hydrated and listen in for some rambles if you're also into that kind of thing.

#just another day #mm..manga #naoki urasawa #asadora!#yawara!#master keaton #happy!#monster #pluto #20th century boys #billy bat #Youtube #writeup

21 notes · View notes

highwaytothedangerzone502 · 2 years

Text

India Lima Yankee - Chapter 31

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 3498

Warnings: Mention of death

Summary: Juliette Kazansky discovers Maverick is back in town for a special training detachment, but she's more than a little blindsided when Rooster arrives too. Having not spoken to him for almost ten years after their less than amicable break-up, Juliette can only imagine how the next few weeks are going to play out when she remains head over heels in love with him while he wants nothing to do with Juliette other than to forget her.

Or so she thinks.

Notes: Chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Bring Me Back to Life Without You

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23 Chp 24 Chp 25 Chp 26 Chp 27 Chp 28 Chp 29 Chp 30 Chp 31

Juliette

Two days.

That's how many were left before the pilots shipped off. As Juliette helped her mom prepare the large meal to feed 18 mouths by setting places at the table, the sinking feeling settled in more and more. One or more of these people may not be coming home, Maverick now being included in that group. Juliette knew she'd had a part in that, even if it was Cyclone who made the final decision. Still, he never would've made it had she not suggested it.

At the thought of Maverick, she wondered where he'd gone. He'd arrived early with Juliette to help prep for dinner. Twenty minutes ago, Mav said he needed the bathroom and had yet to return. Glancing around the kitchen, dining room, and living room, even outside on the back porch, the aviator was nowhere to be seen. Juliette slipped out of sight from her mom and brothers and down the hall to the bathroom, just to make sure he wasn't actually still in there. She doubted it, and her feeling had been right. The door to the bathroom was open, and so was, strangely, the one to her father's office, albeit only slightly cracked. It'd been kept shut ever since Ice had died.

Juliette poked her head into the room. In the golden light of the setting sun filtering through the semi-opaque blinds, she saw Maverick sitting in her father's chair, staring at a group photo of them back when she was in college. It was at her graduation. She was flanked by her father and Maverick. Bradley hadn't been able to come because of training, much to his dismay, but he'd surprised her the following week by showing up on her doorstep with flowers and tickets to a Rascal Flatts concert.

Juliette stepped inside the room and shut the door to give them some privacy. She grabbed a chair and sat across from him. "Talk to me, Mav. What's on your mind?"

"I remember that day," Maverick said, nodding at the photo. "Your dad was so proud of you for graduating top of your class and having a job lined up with Lockheed. I remember him telling anyone and everyone on base."

Juliette smiled. "I could hear him yelling from the stands when I walked up on stage. You too."

"I was proud of you too. I think I was even prouder when you slipped and landed in a kneeling position and threw your hands up like you'd fully intended to do that."

"Whoever thought putting a tarp on the ground when girls are walking down a steep ramp to get to it in heels was a dumbass!" Juliette defended with a smile.

Maverick chuckled. "You had a hell of a bruise on your knee from that."

"I did. Rooster even asked me about it the following week."

"I'm glad you two are back together. You both seem to be better because of it."

"I think we are. He's been my rock since Dad-" A knot formed in her throat, effectively stopping all words. Rooster had spent each night with her since they'd gotten back together. Between having him around and working during the day, Juliette hadn't had time to think much about her dad or the hole in her heart from his death. It came back with a vengeance now.

"Whether you realize it or not, you've been mine, Jules. I wouldn't have gotten that plane if not for you, nor would I be where I am now. I know it's because of you I got my position back, and-" Maverick eyed her knowingly- "I'm pretty sure you're the reason I'm flying as mission leader. Cyclone wouldn't have considered the idea unless someone brought it up to him, considering his opinions about me."

"I don't want you up there, but I know it's what you wanted. I'm not as worried about the pilots having you up there with them." Juliette clenched her jaw, her anxiety rising at the thought of her following words. "What scares me is knowing you'll do anything to protect them. Especially if you send Rooster."

A heavy silence fell between them, both thinking about the impending mission that Maverick and the pilots would deploy for in just a few days and the ramifications that could come from it. Juliette studied Maverick's face, noticing his green eyes welling with tears. Seeing him about to cry made the knot return, and it took a Herculean effort for her to speak in a steady voice. "What is it?"

Juliette followed his line of sight to another photo. In it stood Bradley and Jules, flanked by Maverick and Iceman, respectively. It was from Bradley's high school graduation, one of the last times the two men had been on speaking terms. "If I send him on this mission..." Maverick began, sniffling. He could barely look Juliette in the eye. "He might never come home. And if I don't send him, he'll never forgive me. I don't know what to do, Juliette. I know now is not the time to be thinking about this because we're about to have this dinner as a- as a way to decompress from the stress of the mission. Still, I see this photo, and I see a man who I consider my son. I see you and realize you might never see him again if I send him up, and I can't do that to you. You would never look at me the same, and I don't-"

"Mav-" Juliette reached over and placed her hand on his knee- "listen to me. Don't think about me when choosing whether or not to send him up. In the event you do, and in the unlikely event he doesn't make it back, it would not change how I see you because I know you would've done everything in your power to save him. It's not time to make the decision yet, but I know you'll make the right one, and if you need me to help you make it, I'm here."

"I know you are, but you shouldn't have the burden of helping me make that decision on your shoulders. It's not a light one to make."

"It's not, but I wouldn't offer it if I wasn't willing to help carry that burden. You don't have to bear it alone."

Maverick rested his hand atop hers. "You've done so much for me already, Juliette. I can't ask you for this too."

"You're not. I'm offering."

A ghost of a smile tugged on his lips. "Be on standby for my call when I'm on the carrier. If I need a shove to make the right decision, I know you'll do it."

"Whatever you need, whenever you need it, I've got your six, Mav. Always." Juliette squeezed his knee reassuringly, heart aching at the vulnerability in his face. She wished he didn't have to make the decision at all because he'd been through enough when it came to Bradley. Now, he had an opportunity to reconcile with him, but it came with a near impossible decision.

The doorbell rang, breaking the moment. They stood up, but before leaving, Juliette pulled Maverick into a hug, hoping to convey her support and sympathy for him through the gesture.

"I love you, Jules. Thank you for everything," he whispered.

"I love you, too, Mav." They broke apart. "What do you say we both push aside our worries for tonight and focus on having fun?"

"Sounds like a plan." Maverick and Juliette left her dad's office, and she shut the door behind them. While Mav went to the kitchen, Jules opened the door. She found the twelve pilots and Hondo on her front porch, all carrying a homemade dessert save for Rooster and Phoenix, who both held bouquets.

"What's all this?" Juliette asked, looking at the food and flowers.

"We wanted to bring flowers for your mom," Phoenix said, glancing at the arrangement of white roses and blue irises. It reminded Juliette of the bouquet she'd received from them, and she had no doubt the color scheme chosen for her mom was intentional. "Rooster thought it'd be nice to bring some for you too, as a thank you for the invite. The rest made desserts."

Juliette quirked an eyebrow, unable to imagine some of the pilots baking the desserts they'd brought, especially Hangman, who appeared to have made a pecan pie with the nuts placed in a neat and orderly circle spiraling outward.

"This is absolutely amazing, and the flowers are beautiful," Juliette said sincerely, taking the bouquet from Rooster. "You didn't have to do all this, but it's very much appreciated. Come on in. We can put any desserts that need to be refrigerated in the outside fridge."

One by one, the pilots stepped inside and made their way into the kitchen. Juliette introduced her mom and brothers to each aviator, keeping a careful eye on Joey. Her eldest brother smiled as he shook each pilot's hand, but she could see the calculating look in his eyes, analyzing how much she meant to the pilots and if it was equal to how she felt about them. Joey was no idiot, sadly, and he knew there'd been an ulterior motive to this get-together. As Juliette walked past him to put her flowers in a vase, she warned him, "Play nice."

"Don't worry, Mom already warned me," he mumbled, reaching over her head for a drinking glass. Juliette took a deep breath, forcing herself not to let her brother get to her. She planned on enjoying tonight and letting his words annoy her would do nothing to help her endeavor.

"All right, everyone!" Sarah clapped her hands, garnering everyone's attention. Grab a plate and help yourselves!"

"Cooks go first," Rooster said, motioning at the Kazansky's to dig into the array of food. The rest of the pilots agreed, so Juliette, her mom, and her brothers chose not to argue. Everyone piled their plates with food and crammed together at the table. Juliette sat between Hangman and Rooster. Maverick, her mom, and Hondo sat across from her. For the next hour, everyone ate, drank, and chatted. Even Joey, who had gone into this dinner with more than a few reservations, was joking and grinning alongside the pilots. Juliette mainly talked to those around her until she heard Payback and Fanboy mention her name.

"Are you gossiping about me down there?" she asked, staring pointedly at them.

"Just telling Joey here that you're the reason we had to do two hundred push-ups our first day of training," Payback said drolly.

"It's the last time we ever make a bet with you," Fanboy joked, pointing his fork at her. "Never underestimating you again."

"You'll never underestimate Maverick again, either," Juliette said, smiling proudly at the man across from her.

"You had too much glee in your voice when I got shot down," Hangman remarked, smirking at her. "How'd you know Mav was going to use the sun as a blinding technique to get behind me?"

"How do you think I got the idea?" Maverick said, grinning.

"That wasn't my intention. The nickname slipped out because you-" Juliette looked up at Hangman- "were way too happy during that first fight."

Hangman snorted. "So what you're saying is if you hadn't been there, I might actually have shot Mav down?"

"Don't flatter yourself that much, Sunshine. He still would've kicked your ass."

"You sound very confident about that."

"That's because I am."

"All right, Maverick-" Hangman turned to his instructor- "one day, I want a rematch, and I want Princess here with you because whoever shoots down the other first has to do two hundred push-ups."

"Got yourself a deal," Juliette declared, offering her hand to the pilot. He shook it. "It's a good thing you work out a lot so you can handle all those push-ups."

"Dude, I'm sorry, but I'm putting my bets on Maverick and Princess," Omaha said.

"No faith, huh?"

"Well, yeah, but it's in Mav and Jules, not you."

"Rooster tried to warn you," Maverick added, chiming into the conversation, much to Juliette's surprise, "but I interrupted him. I couldn't let him spill my secret."

"I know what you're capable of," Rooster replied, shocking Juliette even further. Her boyfriend typically tried to avoid any interaction with Maverick outside of training. For him to willingly engage in conversation with him gave Juliette the slightest hope that perhaps his resentment was slowly melting away.

"You've all come a long way from the first day of training. I'm proud of all of you," Maverick praised, looking each pilot in the eye, although his gaze rested a fraction longer on Bradley.

"I'm glad you and Jules are both still here leading this training detachment," Phoenix remarked, smiling at them.

Joey frowned. "Were they not supposed to be?"

Shit... Juliette hadn't told her mom or brothers about Maverick being temporarily removed from his position, nor had she told them that she'd helped him commandeer an F-18 to prove a point. Her mom and Jack would understand, but Joey would throw a fit.

"Cyclone grounded me for a day, and Juliette helped me get my place back," Maverick answered swiftly, meeting her gaze. She could see that he recognized her family didn't know what she'd done and that she wanted to keep it that way. She shot him a grateful smile.

"Still don't know how you pulled it off, Juliette," Payback mused, shaking his head. "God help the poor souls who owed you favors."

"Who on base owes you favors?" Joey prodded, locking eyes with his sister.

Juliette didn't back down. "They weren't mine. Dad told me about them in case I ever needed to use them. I simply cashed in on them."

"I still want to know what kind of favors these people owed you that let you take up an F-18 at the last minute without Cyclone's approval," Harvard added. The others, save for Maverick, Hondo, and Rooster, nodded in agreement.

Jack choked on his drink while Sarah Kazansky raised her eyebrows at her daughter. Meanwhile, Joey demanded, "You stole an F-18?"

"No, I called in a favor with someone other than Cyclone who could get us the plane. It was all done by the books. We merely took a different, more discreet route to do it."

Jack snorted. "I'm sure Cyclone wasn't happy about that."

"No, he was not, but it's all fine now. Maverick is back where he belongs."

"So are you," Maverick said, smiling appreciatively at her.

Hangman lifted his glass. "To Maverick and Juliette!"

"To Maverick and Juliette!" the other pilots cheered, lifting their glasses. Rooster discreetly placed his hand on Juliette's leg, smiling adoringly at her. Her heart soared at the toast. As sweet and simple as it was, it meant the world to her.

The rest of the dinner went off without a hitch. Joey remained relatively quiet after discovering how Juliette helped Maverick, but she didn't care. She was having too much fun with the pilots. After picking up the dirty dishes and placing them by the sink to be cleaned later, they played a few rounds of volleyball until they'd worked off dinner. Then everyone piled their plates with different desserts and migrated back outside to the fire pit. Juliette and Rooster snagged one of the love-seat Adirondack chairs, trying to sit close enough that they could touch each other but far enough away that no one got the wrong idea about them, even though it'd actually be the right one. Juliette still didn't want them knowing she and Rooster were dating, afraid of being accused of favoritism when it came time to choose them for the mission.

Still, as the night wore on, and as she watched the pilots laugh, joke, and chat like there wasn't a care in the world, Juliette found herself spiraling more and more at the thought of losing any of them.

Juliette couldn't stand the idea of not seeing Hangman's cocky smile or Phoenix's sly smirk that suggested she knew the secrets of everyone here. She couldn't stand the thought of not hearing Bob's sweet southern drawl or Coyote's boisterous cheers when he scored a touchdown in dogfight football. Juliette couldn't fathom not listening to Fanboy ramble on about Star Trek and all his other favorite shows and movies or Payback humming the song 'Payback' ever since he discovered that's what Juliette's ringtone for him was. She dreaded the idea of not hearing Omaha try to convince everyone that his hometown of Omaha was a great city, or Harvard and Yale playfully bickering about which of their alma maters was better, or Fritz complaining about his tech issues on his too-old laptop, or Halo gushing about her nieces and nephews.

Most of all, the ones that nearly paralyzed her with fear were the ideas of never having Rooster or Maverick around again. Juliette couldn't bear never again receiving one of Maverick's fatherly hugs and hearing stories of his antics from his younger years, or never seeing Rooster belt out to 'Great Balls of Fire,' of never seeing her boyfriend swagger into the room in the Hawaiian shirts only he could pull off, of never having Rooster's arms around her again and making her feel like she was home.

Heat rose in her cheeks, and it had nothing to do with how close she sat to the fire. Juliette quietly excused herself, stating she needed the bathroom and was going to get more dessert. No one batted an eye, continuing on with their conversation. It wasn't exactly a lie. She did need the bathroom and wanted more dessert, but Juliette didn't head back out the moment she'd completed what she'd gone inside for. Instead, she began unloading the dishwasher, needing to give herself a mindless task, something she knew the outcome of, in order to lessen the anxiety of the unknown ending of the mission.

While Juliette put a new load in the dishwasher, she heard the sliding glass door open. If anyone asked, she already had a plan to tell them she saw the dishes and simply wanted to help her mom by getting another load going. That plan flew out the window when Rooster entered and said, "I came to check on you. You've been gone a little too long for a bathroom break and to grab some dessert, and judging by the fact you're cleaning-"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Juliette countered a little too quickly.

"You clean when you're anxious." Rooster joined her side and, much to her relief, didn't prod about what was on her mind. He probably already knew anyways. It's what was always on her mind: the impending mission and her dad's death. Instead, he silently helped her finish the dishes and clean more of the kitchen. On the one hand, Juliette wanted him to pull her into his arms and hold her, letting the stress she was holding in momentarily melt away. On the other hand, she knew if Rooster did such a thing, she would most likely break down with the thoughts that had just been in her head mere minutes ago, and she didn't want anyone walking in on that.

As they finished up and were about to head back outside, their group entered, yawning and stretching.

"I think we're going to head back," Phoenix said, setting her plate down next to the sink. "Do you need help with anything before we leave?"

"Absolutely not," Sarah Kazansky declared, shaking her head. "I want all of you to go back to base and get some rest for training tomorrow. You have a big mission coming up, and I want all of you at the top of your game for it."

"Yes, ma'am," the pilots echoed.

"Rooster, you're staying, right?" Jack queried casually. "We still need to catch up. It's been too long."

"Wait-" Coyote motioned between the two men- "you know each other?"

"Yeah. We go way back." Jack walked past Juliette, winking at her on his way as a silent 'You're welcome.' She smiled gratefully at him. They could be the best of friends or the worst of enemies, and tonight, Jack was on her side.

"We're all old friends," Juliette added, wanting to avoid her brothers spilling the beans about hers and Rooster's past. The pilots didn't need to know that. Not yet.

With that said, no one else inquired about Rooster's relationship with the Kazanskys, and the pilots bid everyone goodnight. As they shuffled down the sidewalk, Payback and Fanboy shouted over their shoulders, "See you at training, Princess!"

"See you tomorrow!" she hollered back, grinning. While her mom, Rooster, and Jack returned inside to continue cleaning the kitchen, Juliette and Joey remained outside. They stayed there until all the aviators had gotten in their cars and drove out of sight. Then, as Jules shut the door, Jack asked, "Can we talk?"

***

Tags: @lgg5989 @shanimallina87 @polikszena @summ3rlotus @souslesyeuxde @gleasonmalfoy @icemansgirl1999 @supernaturaldawning @thedarkinmansfield @lyannaforpresident @lapilark @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @simpofthecentury @shadeops21 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @double-j @picklejuicesposts @bradshawsandbridgetons @majdoline @ophesworld @jakexfmc

16 notes · View notes

datauthorress · 1 year

Text

Shadows Circling [Chapter 1]

Pairing: Khan Noonien Singh / Original Female Character

Summary: The AI scans the man before her, and within seconds, a picture and a profile comes up. Khan Noonien Singh, Deceased. “Oh my god,” Shelby whispered, hazel hues meeting the blues of the Augment’s. In which Shelby, an advocate for Augments comes across an ancient relic, one known as Khan Noonien Singh.

Rating: E

Warnings: Blood mention, throat grabbing, Khan being Khan.

The soft sound of her shading pencil coloring across the white page is music to her ears. Ever since she had discovered this small planetoid, she had been in Heaven with the beautiful flowers that decorated the planet’s surface. The large bodies of water, the trees, the soft breeze that filtered through the air.

It was beautiful.

It reminded her of Earth, but with no buildings and no humans, except for herself.

It was a perfect day for her to spend time documenting nature here.

Shelby had taken up a new hobby about a year ago, by drawing flowers on a page and then going to the locations where they were. She had begun local, wildflowers, roses, dandelions, etc. She had gently taken one of the flowers and pressed it down onto the second page before making sure it was flat, before writing down what the flower was if it was deadly or poisonous. She was extremely careful when it came to the more deadly ones, thankfully she had Abraxas for that.

�� Abraxas, her AI, had been a life-savor for her ever since the car accident that damaged her right leg and severed another part of her, she could never recover (not that she wanted to). She could still walk, but she had to use a cane to help with the crippling agony she felt all day long. Even after multiple surgeries, she refused to be poked and prodded and experimented on and just dealt with the pain. The accident was when she was 16 and at 17, she was a permanent cripple. Thanks to her sister.

Abraxas had been wonderful to her. While he was an AI, he still held a certain charm to him that would indicate that he was sentient. He had never fully really come out to her that he was, but Shelby had a hunch that he was sentient.

“Shelby,” Abraxas’s deep, mechanical voice echoed in her earpiece, that was also a Bluetooth device that could, when she pressed a button on the side of it, could scan anything she needed to. “It’s nearing 4 PM, Earth-Time. My scanners indicate that this planet will be dark by 5 PM, due to the distance from Earth.”

“Alright,” Shelby nodded and gently closed her sketchbook, before standing up with a soft wince. “I was thinking of staying the night tonight and going back tomorrow afternoon. There’s still a lot of floral here I want to document.”

“I have no disagreement to that,” Abraxas said.

Shelby held her sketchbook close to her chest as she limped towards her small ship. It was small, but it held enough room for three people at least. It had a small bathroom, a bedroom area and then the cockpit, which had two seats for the pilot and co-pilot.

As Shelby neared the entrance of her ship, a sonic boom rumbled through the sky. She glanced up quickly, her attention towards something falling quickly from the sky, with what looked like a ship going after it. Shelby pressed the button the side of her earpiece and the scanner zoomed in, to which she saw that the flaming ball was actually another ship.

“Abraxas, what kind of ships?” she asked, watching the scene unfold in the sky.

“The one falling is a transport ship and the other is a pirate ship.” Abraxas answered.

“Shit,” she whispered, watching the pirate ship catch up with the other.

Without warning, a beam of blue phaser energy erupted from the ship’s side and collided with the transport ship, literally cracking it in half. Pieces fell to the ground, and she yelped, ducking down as the back half of the ship sailed over her head, landing about 200 meters away from her. The front half landed somewhere farther away, exploding in a burst of fire.

“Holy shit,” she whispered.

“It would be wise for us to leave this planet,” Abraxas dead panned.

“Whoever was piloting that ship could be hurt,” Shelby said, entering her ship to grab a gun. “I’m going to go see if there’s any survivors.”

“That is unwise, Shelby.” Abraxas sighed.

“Just keep an eye on me, okay?” Shelby said, before quickly leaving the ship and heading towards the crash site.

It didn’t take her long to start seeing the path of destruction that was left from the back half of the transport ship. Fifteen, twenty minutes maybe. Once she arrived, she stepped around the small fires from pieces of metal. She snuffed them out with her booted feet, before approaching the downed ship.

The area where the ship was sliced in half was wide open and inside, she saw what looked like a broken cryostasis tube. The window was broken, and green fluid had just paused on seeping out of it. Her eyes narrowed in confusion, and she approached the broken tube, noting a bit of blood that was on the glass and the ground.

Whoever had been inside had woken up and gotten out, cutting themselves on the glass.

But that meant-

SNAP

The sound of a branch snapping startled her, and Shelby quickly whirled around, her gun aiming for the source of the noise. She froze upon seeing a man standing near the trees, a very tall and intimidating figure of a man. He couldn’t have been any older than in his early to late 30’s, although she could barely see any wrinkles. His face was free of any facial hair, his dark locks short and disheveled, bangs falling across a pair of icy blue eyes that froze her right to the spot she was in. His clothes, a pair of dark gray trousers and a long black sleeve shirt, were torn in places, and he wore a pair of simple black boots.

And the man’s gaze was locked on her, shoulders tense and fingers flexing, to which she noticed was a sign of wanting to strangle her.

Shelby slowly rose a hand to her earpiece and Abraxas scans over the man before her. It only takes a few seconds and as soon as the scan is complete, a picture of the man comes up and a profile, with a single word next to his name.

Khan Noonien Singh, Deceased.

“Oh my god,” Shelby whispered, hazel hues meeting the blue ones of the Augment before her. “You’re-,”

Her sentence is cut off when she hears the sounds of shouts and yells coming from nearby. The man’s attention is drawn to the cliff above them, where both he and Shelby, see a small group of men at the top, holding phaser weapons.

“There he is, boys!” one of them shouted.

It all happens too fast for her to register. One moment she was standing and the next, Shelby was thrown over the Augment’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes, her gun and cane falling to the ground from surprise. She yelped, feeling a powerful hand on her back that kept her cemented to the man’s shoulder. And without warning, he was sprinting with her on his shoulder.

“My cane!” she called out, but the man didn’t stop.

The men on the cliff fired their weapons, and Shelby put her arms over her head to avoid getting hit. But the Augment carrying her seemed to dodge every single fire, quickening his pace to lose the men chasing them.

They came to a hillside and the Augment slid down it, before jumping to the bottom and glancing around quickly. After a brief second, the man ran over to the right and tossed vines and branches out of the way, before ducking down into a cave-like opening. It didn’t go very deep, but it would prove to be a good hiding spot due to the darkness.

“W-what-?” she began to ask, but a hand clasped across her mouth, silencing her words.

“Quiet,” the Augment ordered quietly.

He pulled her forcefully against him, sinking down with her against the wall of the cave. Shelby noted that he was strong (she could feel the muscles underneath her palms), and he was warm, despite having woken from cryostasis. It was not even 30 seconds later when the pirates came bumbling down the hill, glancing around before one of them shouted and they went in a few different directions. Shelby didn’t release a single breath until the men’s voices finally faded away and even then, when she did breathe, she did so very quietly.

The Augment released her mouth and pushed on her shoulder, silently telling her to get up. Shelby winced from her leg, getting up slowly before leaving the cave, the man following suit.

“Who were those men?” the Augment asked her.

“Um, pirates, I think. They’re relatively new. They wander the galaxy looking for stuff to steal and then sell, people included.” Shelby replied, taking a few deep breaths.

“Do you have a ship?” he asked.

“I-I do, but we have to get my gun and cane-,”

“Forget them. You will fly me out of here,”

Shelby’s jaw dropped slightly at the demand. How could he just demand that of her? “I-I…. look, I know who you are, and I…. j-just give me some time to process all of this-,”

A hand shot out and wrapped around her throat, yanking her closer to the Augment. She yelped in surprise but noticed that he wasn’t choking her. His hand was below her jaw, fingers wrapped around her delicate neck. “You will fly me out of here, is that understood?” he asked, his voice low and demanding, but also very intimidating.

She swallowed thickly and after a moment, gave a nod. “O-okay,”

~ ~

By the time they had gotten back to the ship, Shelby was in so much pain she was nearly crying. The door to the ship opened and she tumbled inside, a soft whimper leaving her throat from the pain in her leg.

“Shelby, take a seat on your bed.” Abraxas told her and turned his attention to the Augment. “Khan Noonien Singh, do not move another inch. Do not lay a finger on Shelby again. Is that understood?”

The Augment – Khan – narrowed his eyes slightly but gave no comment. Shelby hadn’t been lying when she said that she had a sentient AI that was extremely protective of her. The AI’s mechanical arms and hands aided her in taking some medication for her leg.

“Shelby, there is damage to the ship. There’s a slice in the hull that was caused by falling debris. Unless we can repair it, I’m afraid we are staying longer on this planet.” Abraxas spoke.

“Shit,” she cursed softly. “What about the front half of the ship? How long would it take to get there to get parts?”

“About a day, to and from there.” Abraxas replied.

“Then we go now,” Khan said.

“I’m afraid not. Shelby’s pain threshold is far too high for her to be able to travel. Unless you retrieve her cane, it will have to wait until tomorrow morning.” The AI said firmly.

Shelby flinched when the Augment’s eyes narrowed once more. “Very well,” he finally spoke.

~ ~

It was one AM when Khan’s eyes opened.

He lifted his head, taking care of the kink in his neck as he glanced out the large front window of the ship. He sat up and looked over his shoulder towards the bedroom area, where the young woman was sleeping in the full-sized bed. She must have fallen asleep not too long after he did.

Khan still felt the effects of waking up from cryostasis once the adrenaline wore off and he had taken a seat in the pilot’s chair and dozed off, still recovering his strength. He stretched, before getting up and heading for the door.

“Where are you going off to?” the AI spoke, his voice a bit softer so as to not wake Shelby.

“To retrieve the items you requested earlier,” Khan replied.

Khan was gone and back within fifteen minutes, setting the cane and the gun down on the table that was connected to the wall. He glanced down at the sleeping young woman, noting how vulnerable she looked.

“If she did not know who you were, she would have shot you on sight.” Abraxas spoke.

“Then I would have ended her life.”

“And I would have ended yours.”

Khan scoffed.

“You should be grateful,”

“Why should I?”

“Because she’s the reason why your species lives,”

Khan paused, tilting his head slightly.

“Allow me to explain. Sit down in the chair and I’ll show you,”

Khan, after a moment, sat down in the pilot’s chair. The screen on the dashboard lit up dimly as Abraxas began to speak. “At the age of 17, Shelby wrote a paper on the history of Augments that gained the attention of her school, the authorities and then the Federation. She advocated for the Augments, declaring that it was unfair what happened to them in the past 600 years, and what happened to you, especially.”

The screen showed Shelby, at a younger age, speaking in front of a large crowd.

“At 18, Shelby was approached by the Federation and asked why she was advocating for a group of enhanced humans who ruled over the Earth in the late 1900’s. She replied that they were living beings, just like humans and deserved a chance at a better life. Shelby fought for the Augments and gained the approval of over three billion people. At twenty, she became the CEO of the Nova Program.”

Khan’s gaze flitted to the scene on the screen. A planet, similar to Earth in shape and size, was named Nova. “This planet was found six months before the program started and thus named the Nova Program. The next five years took place with homes and survival necessities being built on the planet over a span of 500 miles, a beginning city. Once the city was ready, your crew was released from cryostasis.”

“And why was I not released with them?” Khan asked.

“The Federation declared you dead,” Abraxas replied. “Their response was that your cryotube had malfunctioned and you had died in your sleep. Although we know now, that was far from the truth. While Shelby was helping the Augments adjust to life on Nova, she looked for you, Khan. She’s been looking for you for the last four years, to reunite you with your people. While this was happening, we also found two thousand frozen embryos, all healthy and all Augments. Fifty of them were brought out to live and thrive on Nova.”

Khan glanced over his shoulder at Shelby, who’s form hadn’t moved at all. All he could make out was the slow rise and fall of her side.

“If it was not for Shelby, your people would have been executed a long time ago.” Abraxas finished. “You’ll do well to be grateful.”

The screen went black, and Abraxas went quiet as well, leaving Khan to himself.

His people were alive and thriving. His crew, his family. His heart aches at the thought knowing that they were alive. And he had one human to be thankful to.

He would help her and then be reunited with his people.

#fic: shadows circling #khan noonien singh [star trek]#shelby o'viere [oc]#;relationships [khan/shelby]

2 notes · View notes

thepinkwriterr · 1 year

Text

Capricorn Season Chapter Nineteen

I am very sorry for the huge lapse in posting. I was going through a lot, but I am back now! Enjoy this update.

Table of Contents

My heels clicked against the laminate floor of Heathrow airport. It was packed. I didn't want to fly and I didn't want to be there, but I had to. I was nervous. Too many people. Too many voices.

My outfit was tight and uncomfortable but that was the price to pay for beauty. I wanted to look nice the first time Jimmy saw me after a few months. It wasn't like me to be so worried about what he thought but my anxious thoughts got the best of me. I worried he would be disappointed after not seeing me in so long. I wondered if it was even worth considering. I wore a pink dress I bought recently with some white pumps. My outfit matched my luggage.

Everything was fitting together, running flush as I started this new journey. It made me feel better about the uncertainty ahead. And there was lots of it. It wasn't like me to jump into things like this, not without knowing every little detail.

As I walked to my terminal I looked at the throngs of people. Whether they were waiting in line or sitting on the floor, they meandered. They wandered like clueless chickens with their heads cut off. They clucked and flapped their beaks as they tried to find their way to baggage claim, stomping around and fluttering their sickle feathers as they searched for their passports. I couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous they all looked.

Not that I was much better. I was so nervous I couldn't see where I was going. I almost went to the wrong terminal! I checked three more times as I opened the door to the lounge marked with a big red 5, just to be sure. Thankfully I was in the right place.

"Here you are, miss, just take a seat and wait for the plane to board." The fair-skinned desk lady gave me a thin-lipped smile and handed me back my pink passport. Another piece of the ensemble. I followed her orders and went to find a chair, releasing a large breath as I finally sat. It had been almost a year since I had been on a plane. This would only be my second flight ever, which was the reason for all this anxiety.

I sucked in a breath and stepped into the hallway. It was time to board the plane. The worst part. I could feel anxiety bubbling in my chest. I found my seat in five short strides. My nails hit the rigid plastic armrest as I nervously tapped. I'm sure everyone was annoyed with me as my feet clomped against the carpeted floor, but I couldn't help it. I had to get my nervous energy out somehow.

I remembered being amazed when Dominic told me about his plane ride to and from Africa, and how wonderful the experience was. That was his first plane trip and he was delighted to be flown by David E. Harris, the first black pilot. Harris became the plane captain by 1967, a year and a half before I flew for the first time. I compared my experience on this Pan Am flight to Dominic's account.

Sometimes I let him creep in, allowing his judgment to run free in my mind. It was so long ago, I know, but I couldn't help it. It felt good to swim in that lake of nostalgia. I remembered his words from so long ago and the way he drew out his syllables, how his face contorted in total joy when he made himself laugh, and how gorgeous he looked with smoke coiling around his lips.

He's actually the one who told me about England. He spoke about Reading and told me all about how magical the culture was, about the history, food, and architecture. He told me about Reading festivale and how one of his friends saw The Rolling Stones. He said he wanted to take me there. His face was painted with total elation. He had a huge mouth, lips, and teeth cracking into a geode smile, glittering and beautiful. I always thought he was a very pretty man. I wondered how he looked now, if he was still gorgeous, if he was still an asshole.

That's why I think I still let him into my head the way I did. His effect couldn't be understated. He still presided over my life, affecting where I lived, even with just his words. I worried that he would always have some measure of control over my life. I still judged myself based on his rubric, still looked off his paper as I made moves across my life. I didn't know if that was because he was my first and last boyfriend, the only man who filled the role of my absent father, or if I hadn't gotten over him yet.

Love had always been hard for me. I always wanted love but I didn't know how to get it, or how to give it. Love was always a guessing game. But the gap was bridging, just as the space between Jimmy and I, as the plane came closer to New Haven. I was getting closer to love. I could feel the flame drawing ever closer, and I could feel the drip of molten wax down my shuttering frame. I wished not for a fall from grace.

But I did move to Winnersh, the place I still call my home. It was a nice little area. Although the people were pretty conservative, I enjoyed it. I wondered if Dominic would like it there. Probably not. He would think it too still and sterile. Too white.

The airplane seats were a lovely shade of green and had a white towel draped over the front. I wondered what they were for at first, but then I saw people patting their faces as the flight went on. I thought it was gross and abstained from joining in.

Three stewardesses accompanied us, surveying the aisles and providing everyone with drinks and meals. The food selection started with hors d'oeuvres, which Jimmy later told me was common on English flights. I declined the stewardess's offer because I saw the crackers had mushrooms on them. Yuck!

The next dish to be passed around was a salad. It didn't look like any salad I had ever seen.

"It's an English garden salad. There are potatoes, runner beans, spring onions, sundried tomatoes, Cheshire cheese, mint, mustard, and honey." This stewardess had red hair. It was lighter than mine but longer and curly. Her eyes were huge and blue. Her long eyelashes were coated in a thick layer of mascara and her cheeks were covered in blush. She was pretty but wore too much makeup. She put me off because runner beans, or lima beans, were not beans at all. They were legumes. So I told her so.

"They're actually not beans, they're legumes. Like peanuts."

"Oh. Would you like some salad?" She asked again, holding out the dish.

"Sure."

She put a large serving of salad onto my rounded plate and walked away with a smile. Her mouth was small. I was surprised she could put her lipstick on. I looked down at my plate and saw that it was not salad at all, but a pile of mashed ingredients. The English were terrible at food. No wonder so many of them were stick-thin.

Thankfully the salad never entered my mouth. The turbulence caused it to fly onto the floor, collecting at my feet. A stewardess, this one brunette and portly, scurried over and cleaned it up. She apologized profusely as she put the sticky food on a napkin and carried it off. She was gone before I got a chance to tell her it was okay.

I tried my best to squeeze my eyes shut and sleep. But I fought blindly in the dark behind my closed lids for the entirety of the flight. I was too nervous to eat or drink anything. And getting out of my seat before the plane was on solid ground was out of the question. The worst part was that my bladder was calling to me, pleading desperately to allow me to empty it. I patted my tummy and sighed, telling myself I would get to go when we were back on the ground. It wouldn't be too long, I kept repeating. Not too long.

In the black desert of space under my eyelids, my mind started to wander. I was bored. I had thumbed through the on-flight movie selection and came up empty-handed. I had either seen everything or wasn't interested. I laid my head back and let memory sweep me away, thinking of the last few days.

It was all so crazy. I let Jimmy find me a job, something I had never done before. I didn't want anyone's help, certainly not from the guy I was seeing. But he found me a good job, one with a good boss, one that allowed me to be excited about what I would be doing.

I was more grateful to him than I ever had been to anyone. No one had been as kind as he. Where I come from, kindness was something to be earned. It was hard-fought and scarcely rewarded. But he gave it to me endlessly. I didn't even have to ask. I was given kindness and respect without begging. Something I'd never had.

"Right, love, I've made some calls. I know you wanted to go as freelance as possible, so I've found a manager for you. His name is William Wells. You'll be able to join us and take photos and send them to William, then he'll send them out to other companies." Jimmy's voice was broken and patchy on the phone. We were miles away, countries apart, and the reception was an annoying reminder.

"Are you serious? Oh my god, that's like the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I can't thank you enough for this." I was embarrassed, having needed his help, but was grateful in spite of that fact.

"Well, you don't have to. I just want you with me as soon as possible. And I know you'll take some great photos of the band."

"I'll give him a call right away. Thank you so much! Really, thank you. I will see you soon!"

"That sounds great, love. I'll see you soon."

There was a slight silence as we lingered on the line, just for a moment or two. I could hear him breathing and a pain hit me in the chest. I missed him. Of course, I was happy he was having fun with his band, but I was selfish. I wanted him here with me, in Pangbourne once more.

"I'll see you soon, bye," I said.

After I hung up the phone I paced around anxiously. I was really going to join them on tour! And soon. Oh my god... oh my god. I'm fucking going on tour with a band. I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know what to pack or what to think. What do you wear on tour? Was it going to be hot? Of course, it's going to be, it's America in the summer. I've lived in America longer than anywhere else. I was going crazy with excitement.

First, I had to call William Wells and arrange a time to meet. Then, I had to go and sign stuff, then I had to worry about packing. I was getting so ahead of myself. I couldn't help it. I was going to see Jimmy, we could spend every day together for the next few months.

The dessert was good, at least. It was a "Victoria sandwich", which was just a sponge cake with whipped cream and raspberry jam. What the hell was with the British and cream? They were obsessed with dairy. They served it after another nasty bout of turbulence. I thought my head was going to fly off my neck!

It wasn't long after a glass of champagne that the flight ended. I was shaky and needed to pee really badly. When people began to file out of their seats I bounced anxiously. I didn't know if I could make it, honestly. I had to go so badly. Annoyance started to build in me as people shuffled down the aisle. My carry-on had started to get heavy as well. I wanted off the floating tin can from hell.

The cab's window rattled as we drove over bricked streets and busy intersections. Heavy rain pummeled the car. It was peaceful to see the raindrops racing on the window, crashing into one another as the downpour continued.

I was growing tired as the day dragged on. But I knew salvation would be coming soon. I could lay down in a bed with Jimmy and sleep. Nothing sounded better.

I was once again entwined with recollection as I dissipated from the smelly cab. I was walking my steps from yesterday, my hands shaking in the confines of the metal car just as they had as I walked down the office hallway.

The office was hot and I wondered when I'd get home. If we hurry this along, maybe I could make a late lunch and still be home in time to beat the rain. I hated driving in the rain.

William came in shortly after. He was tall and pleasant, like a scarecrow. He shook my hand gently, the sign of a good man. "Hello, I'm William," His face was clear and bright, with a thin structure and hollow cheeks. His eyes were warm and friendly. Dark blue. "I trust you found your way here alright."He sat back in his red oval chair with a smile. He was all too warm and friendly. I wondered if it was a facade. He speaks like an American, like me. I felt at home in his dip-thong and drawn-out syllables. He's a Yankee.

"Yes," I nodded, "just fine."

"How are you doing today?"

I was taken aback by his small talk. I knitted my brows together and tried to make a daisy chain of an answer, "I'm fine, I guess," I stumbled through an appropriate response and searched for anything to add onto. I had to turn on my corporate brain, "hoping it doesn't rain. I'm sick of the rain".

He laughed. "Yeah, me too. Ever since I got here it seems like it hasn't stopped raining."

"Where are you from?" I asked.

"Indiana. Yeah, I know, big guy from the big city!" Oh, so he's a Hoosier.

Now I laughed. Short, small bursts of air puffed from my nose. "Where in Indiana? I've never been but I'm familiar with most of the state capitals. Have to keep in touch with the American roots," I joked.

"Muncie. It's a little college town. Blue collar. I don't expect you to know it."

I shrugged, "no, I don't. Is it close to Indianapolis? When I moved to Winnersh, I had a layover at the airport there."

"No, not really. It's about an hour and a half away. Where are you from?" He turned the question on me awfully fast.

"California."

"Wow, so that must've been an interesting experience."

"Oh, yes, it certainly was," I tried my best to laugh.

Now it was time to get to business. I could see the corporate mask slip on. His expression changed from friendly to serious. His lips pulled together and his brows lowered. "When Mr. Page showed me your work I found it incredibly interesting. You capture action very well," he opened the leather-bound portfolio and rifled through the thick pages of black paper. White tabs held the photos at each corner, allowing for an unobstructed view and the ability to remove the picture at will. "That will be a valuable skill when taking shots of the band. You also have an excellent eye for detail and great depth of field. I'm very impressed." He closed the portfolio.

I was quiet. I nodded. What was I to say?

"We should move onto business, shouldn't we?" He asked. His nose was narrow and pointed at the end, almost in the shape of an arrow.

"I suppose."

"Well, if you were to join our team you would be shooting the band and sending the film via mail. I would have them developed and get them to publications that were looking for photos. Mainly magazines that are running articles. And, of course, we would publish them in our magazine at the start of every month, given what article is being run. You could also be sent out for shoots when you're not working with the band. It's just that Zeppelin is very in demand right now, so we would want that to be your main focus."

I was so nervous I didn't really know what to say. It sounded great but I wasn't sure if the money would be great.

"If you're worried about your photos in other hands, don't worry, our team of developers is excellent. They are highly trained and-" he spoke with stressed features.

"No, that's not it. I actually used to work as a developer. I spent most of last year in a dark room," I interrupted. he laughed, his brows coming back up, "I just don't know how great of a fit I would be. I mean, I haven't really done something like this. I've only shot three or four bands."

"You have a personal connection with the band, as Mr. Page made it sound, and I see here that you are very adept. I think you would do wonderfully."

I sighed. This was new territory. I don't know what Jimmy told him, but it seemed like he was desperate for my employment. "I-I just don't know. How good is the money?"

"Well, we can't guarantee, of course, but most buyers pay per photo. For in-demand bands, you could get anywhere from 15 to 20 dollars. For an entire roll, which publications such as Rolling Stone or Circus will pay for, usually go for 30 or 35 dollars. We take a certain percentage, which can be negotiated if you agree to our terms."

Thirty dollars for a roll? Wow! My rolls would go for five or ten if I was lucky. Jimmy got me in good. There must be a catch. Surely. "What percentage do you usually take?"

"Five."

I clicked my tongue. "That's a bit steep."

Now my corporate mask was thinly strung across my face.

He jumped in his seat, lurching forward, "I can assure you that it averages out for our services."

"Four percent."

He sighed and placed his palms on the table. "Okay, four percent."

I smiled. I was content with my quibbling. Sudden confidence had come from his apparent interest in my work. This was the first time someone was willingly offering me a good position.

"Now is the matter of your stay on tour, which is the major concern of our contract. The tour is finished on September 20th, as Mr. Page told me in our lengthy phone conversation. You will be staying through the entirety, correct?"

"Yes."

"Alright, that is sound. Now," he put his fists on the table with a smile, "I don't expect that you'll be filling a roll each night, but I do expect one roll every week. On the weeks they have minimal shows, you could do one for every two weeks."

I sat back in my chair and the tension in my body diffused. I was more relaxed than when I first entered. The sweat on my underarms had dried and I was able to take in my surroundings better.

His office was large and neat with modern furniture. A large brown desk sat between us, riddled with stacks of papers and a lamp on the corner. A picture window lined the back wall, blinds occluded any view into the street below.

We were on the third floor of the tall building. His office was one of three on the level. Four rows of cubicles occupied the majority of the space left on the floor. I had passed people writing copy and reviewing shots on the way in.

"Right."

His secretary sat outside his office at a small desk. I could hear her humming while reading a magazine as I waited for William to see me in.

"Now, let's just sign the papers and we can get it finalized." He said. The brash overhead lights shined off his slicked-back brown hair.

We ended the meeting with the signing of papers. My hand shook as I held the stout pen. I scratched my signature on the allotted lines, looking down at the dark ink. It's set in stone now. I've got my first real job, where I'm taking the photos I want. People were going to see my work!

The cabbie helped me retrieve my luggage from the trunk. I slapped a 20 in his hand and was on my way. I ran through ran into the hotel lobby, seeking refuge in the heat of the bright room. It was pretty nice. White sitting chairs surrounded oaken coffee tables. Gold chandeliers hung over the red runner that started at the entrance. My heels squeaked with each step as I trudged up to the front desk.

"I'm here as a guest under Grant." The dark-skinned woman worked on checking me in. I took notice of her big, blue eyes and red nails. Her hair was long and sleek. "I love your nails. I can never go for a color that bold. Wouldn't look good on me." I was soaked from the rain and felt out of place in the lovely interior design but tried to appeal through flattery.

She gave a short laugh. "Thank you. I think it contrasts with my eyes and skin quite well." She held a boney hand up to her cheek, posing with a smile.

"Yes, you look absolutely ravishing!" I mocked Jimmy's grandiose accent.

She waved me off with a smile, telling me the room was ready. I didn't get a key.

"One last thing, if you don't mind me asking," she caught me before I turned away from the counter, "but you are here for the band, right?"

"Yes, I'm the photographer." I stood curiously at the counter. There was a puddle at my feet.

"Oh, well, I was going to ask if the rumors about them are true. About the lead singer, y'know?"

I pulled my brows together. "What about him?" I leaned in close as her voice lowered to a whisper.

"That he has a big... Y'know."

I hollowed in laughter, slamming my hand on the counter. I was tickled by her assumption. I wish I knew.

After my fit died down, I could see that she was uncomfortable. "Oh, well, I don't know about that. I'll have to find out about that. I'll report back to you if I get that information."

And I was on my way down the hall to the elevator.

Taglist:

@anothercanyonlady , @jonesyjonesyjonesy @paginate54 , @seventieswhore , @jimmypages , @jimmys-zeppelin , @jimmysdragonsuit13

#jimmy page #capricorn season #led zeppelin

2 notes · View notes

monkeyd-lily · 2 years

Text

Supernatural: Makayla Winchester's Story

Pilot Part 1

I in no way own any rights to this content except for what I created myself. Not every detail is going to be exact so for example, I might change the length of time between something or who says what.

This is basically her outfit except she's wearing regular ripped black jeans, a leather jacket to go over the flannel, and all black converse. Hope you enjoy:) Let me know what you guys think in the comments!

Makayla's pov

Fire. That's all I saw surrounding me as my eyes snapped open at the echo of my name being screamed. I could hear the deep voice in the distance, but I couldn't move my body. I heard my name being screamed again, this time clearer and closer. The voice sounded familiar but I couldn't figure out who. I started to look around to see if I could spot whoever was there; that was a horrible mistake. As I looked around my eyes passed by the ceiling; and on that ceiling was the corpse of my dead husband, swallowed by the flames.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!" I couldn't stop the painful screech that ripped through my throat. This is too much, it's all too much. What have I ever done to deserve such a painful life?

"MAAACE!!!"

A figure appeared above me but my vision was too blurry to see his face, he carried me out into the snowy front yard. As soon as oxygen filled my lungs with the cool night air I clawed my way out of the person's grasp and ran back to my home, watching as all the memories I'd built over the last 5 years burned away. I felt those strong arms grab me again and drag me away from the burning building to the side of a car. It wasn't till he shook me and yelled my name again that I looked up at his face. The face I never thought I'd get to see again; the one man who can break me apart and then put all the pieces back together again, my big brother Dean. I haven't seen or heard from him since the day I left and out of nowhere this is the one moment he shows up? That's just like him. There was so much I wanted to say to him, so much I wanted to scream in his face about how much he hurt me and why it took him so long to come. But all I could do was stare at him until the tears began to spill from my eyes once more. I shoved my face into his chest and bawled my eyes out while he held me against Baby as the roof collapsed behind him. I cried and cried until those flames went out. After I calmed down Dean picked me up bridal style and got into the front of the Impala and drove off to the nearest motel.

When we got to the motel a couple of hours later, Dean carried me all the way into the room and stripped me, he placed me in a bath of warm water and started to gently clean all the blood (that wasn't mine) off of me with a rag. He bathed me in silence as I just sat there replaying the last 24hrs of this nightmare I've been in. When he was done he wrapped me in a towel and cuddled me on the bed.

"Hey, I know you won't want to talk about it, but just know that when you're ready I'll be right here." He said affectionately.

"How'd you find me?" I ignored him. I know he'll always be there but I don't want to talk about it. Not ever. "How'd you know where I was? Why'd you come now? After all these years?"

He hesitated, "I looked for you everywhere, and I mean everywhere. Sam and I both did. But Dad hid you too well, he made sure he knew where you were, made sure you were always safe. But he also kept you from me, said that if you wanted to be here you would be, not off doing whatever you were doing. Two years ago Sam left for Stanford, he's been there ever since."

"What and so now suddenly Dad decides to randomly give out my location?"

"Sort of. He set me a text with these coordinates and your name before..."

"Before what Dean?" I turned to face him.

"Dad went on a hunt and I haven't heard from him in a few days." He said grimly.

"So? A couple of days is nothing, it's Dad." I scoffed.

"It's different this time, I need your help to find him. Yours and Sammy's, I was going to go get him next. I need you with me please, I'm begging you. The safest place for you is right next to me. Nothing bad will happen to you as long as I'm around I promise." He looked me in the eyes and placed a gentle kiss on my lips, and that was all it took for me to melt in his arms.

"Fine, I'll go with you. I wanna make sure Daddy is ok and plus you're gonna need help convincing Sam to come with. He can never really say no to me."

"Thank you, Princess". Dean gave me another soft kiss before wrapping me in his tight embrace as I fell asleep to relive my nightmares.

That was about 2 days ago, we've been driving most of the time since then; almost to Sam. I've just been cuddling up to Dean the whole ride there, feeling so cold and numb inside since the fire, still replaying everything in my head. As I was lost in my thoughts we arrived at Stanford by nightfall. Preparing to see Sam was so nerve-wracking, as horrible as I felt for leaving Dean that night I never felt worse than I did when I left Sam. He's my twin, we know each other completely inside and out. Leaving him was one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make; we had never really been apart. I'm scared he might hate me now.

Dean and I snuck into Sam's place after I quickly and quietly picked the lock. As we snuck around it was a little hard to see since it was the middle of the night. Sam came out of what I assume is his bedroom and started fighting Dean, thinking it was some robber in the dark. I just stood there and watched, there wasn't really a reason for me to intervene. Dean, of course, wound up pinning Sam down first.

"Woah! Easy tiger."

"Dean!?"

"Hiya Sammy" I crouched down next to Dean and gave him a small smile.

"You two scared the crap out of me."

"That's 'cause you're out of practice."

Sam flipped Dean so now he was pinned instead.

"Or maybe not." Dean laughed. "Get off me."

Sam let Dean go and immediately turned to wrap me up in the biggest and tightest hug I think he's ever given me. All I could do was squeeze back and whisper an "I'm sorry" into his ear so only he could hear. Still holding me Sam turned back to Dean,

"Dude, what the hell are you two doing here?"

"Well we were lookin for a couple of beers" Dean joked.

"Sam?" A petite voice called from the hallway.

"Jess, hey. Macey, Dean, this is my girlfriend Jessica." Sam explained as he put me down.

"Wait as in your brother and sister?"

"You know I love the smurfs. And I gotta say, you are way out of my brother's league." Dean, of course, was already flirting with her.

"I'm gonna go put something on." She said obviously uncomfortable.

"Oh no, no, no, no. I wouldn't dream of it, seriously" He just sounds so creepy when he says it like that, weirdo.

She exchanged an annoyed glance with Sam that I noticed. I flashed a friendly smile to help her feel reassured that Dean was just joking.....mostly.

"Anyway we gotta borrow your boyfriend here to talk about some family business, but uh nice meetin you." Dean pointed at her with a smile.

"No." Sam walked over and put his arm around Jess." No whatever you gotta say you can say in front of her too."

"Ok, Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

"So he's working overtime on a "miller time" shift, I'm sure he'll stumble back sooner or later." Sam said smugly. This time I was the one who said it.

"Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days."

"Jess excuse us." Sam got what I was implying. He got dressed and followed us outside where she wouldn't hear.

"Come on, you can't just break-in in the middle of the night and expect me to hit the road with you." Sam exasperated as he followed behind us down the stairs.

"You're not listening Sammy, Dad's missing. And I need both of you to help me find him."

"Remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the devil's gates in Clifton? He was missing then too, he's always missing and he's always fine."

"Not for this long. Now, are you gonna come with us or not?"

"I'm not. I swore I was done hunting. For good"

"Come on. It wasn't easy but it wasn't that bad."

"Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet he gave me a .45"

"Well, what was he supposed to do?"

"I was 9 years old, he was supposed to say 'don't be afraid of the dark'"

"Don't be afraid of the dark? Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark you know what's out there." Dean argued.

"Boys!" I shouted. "Hey yea um, it's great to be reunited with you guys again really, but uh I'm gonna go wait in the car while you two finish your conversation." You could hear the slight annoyance in my voice. "Sammy, for what it's worth I really hope you do come with us. You know that I get what you're saying but I need to find Dad, and I'd prefer it to be with both my brothers. I'll always need my twin no matter what." I flashed him a small smile.

I walked away but could still hear them arguing behind me. Once I was out of the building their voices died down for a minute as they were trying to catch up to me, but that minute was one of the longest I've ever had. The flickering street-light triggered flashbacks of the other night. The fire, my husband, the knife covered in so much blood. None of it mine....or his. The sound of the metal door opening behind me snapped me out of my daze, Sam and Dean were still arguing.

"It was Dad who said if I'm gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing. Last time I checked that's what she was doing too, and yet you went and dragged our baby sister back in it." Said Sam. I walked back over and stood next to them.

"Dad's in real trouble right now, if he's not dead already. I can feel it. I can't do this alone."

"Yes you can" Sam's right he could easily do it without us, my big brother is one of the best hunters in the world.

"Yeah...well, I don't want to." Even without what happened the other day I would still never say no to Dean, I've never really been able to say no to him. Not to mention every now and then he's able to whip out the big brother puppy dog eyes.

I looked at Sam and gave him my puppy dog eyes, the ones he never says no to. As soon as he took a deep breath I knew he fell for it.

"What was he hunting?" He asked.

We made our way to the Impala where Dean opened the trunk; the floor of the trunk opened to reveal a hidden compartment where we kept all our weapons and anything else we needed to hunt monsters. He told Sam about the 10 men that have disappeared in Jericho, California over the last 20 years all after they went down the same road. Dad went to go check it out 3 weeks ago, the only time Dean heard from him was when he left him a voicemail the day before he came and saved me.

"Dean something is starting to happen, I think it's serious. I need to figure out what's going on. Be very careful Dean, we're all in danger. You need to get your sister, I'll text you the coordinates." During the voicemail, part of it went out due to some EVP being caught on it; which of course brainiac Sam caught right away.

"Kinda like riding a bike isn't it?" Dean laughed. He had already cleaned up the audio and I heard it, it was a woman's voice solemnly saying, "I can never go home". "You know two years I never bothered you; never asked you for a thing," Dean said. I gave him my puppy dog eyes again.

"All right, I'll help you find him. But I have to be back first thing Monday. Just wait here." Sam said before ruffling my hair. Dean asked him what Monday was about and tried to convince him to skip it when he found out it was an interview. "It's for law school and it's my whole future on a plate. Do we have a deal?" I immediately said yes. I know how much this means to Sam and as much as I miss him I won't let my selfishness ruin his chance to enjoy a happy normal life; one of us should at least get to.

As he left to go pack Dean and I waited for him in the car. I sat in the front cuddling Dean's right arm and laying my head on it; whenever we were in the car I always sat in-between whoever sat up front since I fit so perfectly. He lightly peppered the top of my head with sweet kisses trying to relax me after everything that's happened; he tries so hard but I don't think I'll ever have the courage to tell him. No matter what he does I will never be ok again. His kisses suddenly became, not as gentle but more loving. He trailed them from the top of my head, down my forehead and over my nose; hovering just above my lips. They lingered there for a moment, as if asking for permission. Slowly, he placed a tender kiss on my lips. As the seconds passed his kisses became more dominant. We shifted positions so now I was facing him with my legs lying across his; he had one hand on my back and one on my cheek as his tongue begged for entrance. It had been so long, too long since I felt his lips on mine; since I tasted him. So I quickly and eagerly let him in. Once our tongues collided I gave up all control, my body going weak at the knees....and other places. This is what I needed, I needed Dean again. No matter what bad things happened or monsters I encountered Dean was always there making sure I was safe, making sure I felt safe. No matter how hard Dad tried he wasn't always around for his 'princess' as he called me. It was always Dean. As I got older I started to crave comfort in....different ways; which was very hard to find when you have three overprotective men in your family who you share rooms AND beds with while they're also going through their own puberty filled emotions.

The make-out session started to get hotter when Dean took the hand from my cheek and slid it over my breasts, but not before giving them a squeeze, down to my thigh where he spread my legs a little and caressed the inside so dangerously close to my womanhood. My slight moans excited him more as he unbuttoned my jeans and slid his hand inside to start rubbing my clit. I dug my nails into the shoulders of his leather jacket as I whispered his name in his ear with every rub. He then began to finger me and stretch me out, adding a finger every time I got used to until he had 3 pumping inside me. He used his thumb to rub my clit as fucked me with his fingers and I couldn't hold it in any longer. As I said his name a little louder, warning him of my upcoming release, he plunged his tongue back in my mouth muffling my cries as I came.

Once I caught my breath I heard the sound of the metal door again. I quickly grabbed a napkin from the glove compartment and cleaned Dean's hand then buttoned my pants back up as he kept staring at me with love and adoration in his eyes. I heard the footsteps get closer as I threw the napkin out the window and sat properly, Dean pulled my head in for one last loving kiss before Sam came into view. He threw his bag in the back and got in without questioning the seating arrangement; we exchanged a knowing glance since he knows exactly what we were just doing. Our bond is so deep as twins we can practically read the other's mind and speak to each other just by looking at the other. He rolled his eyes as a response.

It was bright out when Dean gently shook me awake. We had stopped at a gas station to get some fuel for both us and Baby. I didn't really wanna get up so as soon as Dean went to buy snacks I rested my head on Sam's back as he had one foot out the door to stretch with how freakishly tall he is. He started looking through the cassette tape collection Dean had. A few moments later Dean walked out of the store and started to fill Baby up as he offered Sam some "breakfast", which consisted of chips, candy, jerky, and soda.

I know, breakfast of champions. Still tastier than whatever healthy junk Sam would've made me eat.

"How can you afford that anyway? You and Dad still running credit card scams?" Sam asked.

"Yea, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career. Besides all we do is apply it's not our fault they send us the cards." Dean joked.

"I mean he's not wrong Sammy." I added giving him a goofy smile as I sat up so Dean could get in.

"Yea? and what names did you write on the application this time?"

"Uhhhh, Bert Aframian and his son, Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal." Dean answered.

"Sounds about right." Sam laughed. He then went on to complain about how Dean needed to update his music collection he was looking through before. He called it "Mullet Rock" as an insult and looked to me but I just gave him the "don't bring me into this" face. I don't mind the music, I'm used to it.......plus I still have headphones.

"House rules Sammy, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole," was Dean's response as he blasted Loveless' A Gift to the World".

"Sammy is a chubby 12-year-old it's Sam. Unless it's Macey." I leaned my head on his shoulder in return.

"Sorry I can't hear you the music is too loud." Dean turned the music up to further annoy Sam. I just sat there happily eating my snickers, minding my own business as we sped off to Jericho.

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean x oc #samxoc

1 note · View note

tv14pluscartoons · 3 years

Text

BIRDGIRL EPISODE 1: "PILOT" (April 4th, 2021)

Review edited for me by Glenn Rolón

This show contains discussion of parental neglect, non-graphic death and a hidden severed foot in a bag.

So, funny story, 21 years ago I was 5 years old watching the beginnings of Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law. Was I too young for it? Absolutely. But also it was like, the least inappropriate thing on Adult Swim I actively watched all through its run until I was 12 years old, so it's held a special place in my heart ever since.

All of that is to say, having seen that show is kind of unnecessary to understanding this episode. Which I would hope, given this is a spinoff of a show that began 21 years ago, ended officially 14 years ago, and had its last one-off special 3 years ago.

Birdgirl starts us off with Judy Ken Sebben/Birdgirl finishing up her day job, ordering ramen takeout while venting through the call about how her passions are more with her other life as Birdgirl than with her normal life as Judy, which is the perfect set up for the ultimate point of the episode. It then rushes forward into Birdgirl's fast paced action and awkwardness-heavy night, showing how much more excited Judy feels to do that than her lawyer day job. Though it also shows how RECKLESS she is as Birdgirl.

Judy completely ignores the giant signs of her father's death, seemingly out of cluelessness to the audience as its presented.

But longtime watchers of Harvey Birdman will already know he's faked his death multiple times, a point that's brought up when Judy goes to work the next day and is called into the meeting for the CEO Replacement. In which its revealed that her father (who believes Birdgirl and Judy are different people) chose Birdgirl to be the CEO while giving Judy the majority stocks in the company, setting off the real point of the episode, and possibly series: Judy's entire mental disconnect with herself. She feels distraught that her father saw Birdgirl as CEO material and not her more personal, calmer self.

Because she can't bring herself to grieve over her father yet again after the previous times, she goes fully into denial spending more of her time as Birdgirl and neglecting her personal life.

Which brings the concern of the friend she makes with Meredith the Mindtaker, a green telepath played by Negin Farsad.

Meredith is very empathetic despite calling herself "bad at emotions", which might be a side effect of her powers. Speaking of, to make a mental note, I find it refreshing that her powers are treated very intentionally not-invasively as possible, only using them to give therapeutic advice to Judy or physically stopping her to get her to listen. The biggest "misuse" is just her joking to finish Judy's sentences, which while annoying, isn't the same as forcing her way deep into Judy's insecurities she won't admit to herself.

Birdgirl's humor is dry and not scored by music or heavy sounds, aside from the absurdity of Birdgirl's incompetence at fighting crime in denial of her father's death; which is still underplayed compared to other examples I've seen.

The character design feels fitting as a continuation to Harvey Birdman while just being pleasant to look at, while also animating probably better overall than the original or a show with a similar vibe and style like Archer.

I really like how Birdgirl's eyes go from superhero cartoon/comic book white to showing her eyes like a live action adaptation whenever she'll be speaking honestly from the heart while in the mask instead of in denial.

One thing that might become obvious the longer you watch the episode is that, unlike Harvey Birdman, Birdgirl seems like it's not allowed to use Hanna Barbera/MGM/Cartoon Network characters freely, which may explain the abscence of a few old key characters, not showing or mentioning Harvey Birdman, and the fact one of the board members is a cartoon dog that might've been Droopy had they been able to. I don't think this hinders the show at all, but it is noticeable considering the show it spun off from. Might be Warner wanting to keep some characters clean while they try to use them in kid appropriate material like Space Jam: A New Legacy.

Birdgirl is a very calm show, definitely meant for teenagers and older — With the exploration of Judy's personal, mental and emotional struggles brought on by her father's neglect of her when she wasn't being reckless as Birdgirl. However, everything else is very tame; there's fewer than 5 bleeped swears, fewer than 3 mentions of sex and despite there being a people eating machine in this episode, it shows no real gore unlike another show with the same TV-14 Rating.

Birdgirl is for adults not in the sense that it has content inappropriate for children, but in the sense that its story, which seems to be ongoing, deals with issues that are only really relatable to people who are old enough. Despite human waste (heh) being a part of the episode, it doesn't ever feel "immature" in the way that poster child shows like Family Guy or Rick and Morty can feel, or even Tuca and Bertie, which is very mature with an important story, but goes for more crass jokes.

If you're a fan of stories with a woman-centric cast and dry humor, I'd recommend it to you. If you're more into the superhero stuff, I can't say I'd recommend it to you until more episodes have come out for a better gauge of where the show's boundaries will be.

Overall, Birdgirl is an enjoyable superhero empathy ride I hope to see more of and I'm glad I checked out.

#birdgirl #TV14Plus Review #judy ken sebben #meredith the mindtaker #harvey birdman attorney at law #14 and up #Adult Swim #tv series review

70 notes · View notes

sulphuryasecretcloset · 3 years

Text

What if...? Part 8

Yeah, so we ended up with 9 parts (plus possibly an epilogue, depending on how long 9 turns out) instead of 4... or 5... or 7/8... As I said; I’ve given up restraining this story as you lovely, lovely enablers kept throwing encouraging fuel to the writing fire and muse molotovs at me. The comments and reblogs are cat nip to a writer and I am a weak, weak soul who can only say; thank you so much <3

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Part 8

Davarax has to be tired and Dulsissia can see places on his underarmor that is scorched and torn, which tells her he probably has new scars to join his old ones, but he ignores it all in favour of catching up with what has happened in the children’s lives.

Paz doesn’t seem to mind the others bombarding him with questions too, especially about the helmet, he’s grown even taller and seem to have gained some muscle, but Dulsissia feels a tiny twinge in her heart at that he also seem more quiet and subdued than before.

Maybe it is just the side-effect of having spent over a year with his father that close? Maybe things will become more normal now that Paz is back with the other children? Dulsissia hopes so. But she wouldn’t place any credits on it.

It’s surprisingly difficult to let go of them when the time comes, so Dulsissia aims the words to herself as much as the children when she explains that Davarax and Paz need to rest for a bit. And, yeah, get cleaned up. But how about they have a welcome home meal later?

It’s a bittersweet event. Dulsissia wants to kick herself when she watches Paz sit by the table and be unable to eat anything. His t-visor rests occasionally on the food, but he doesn’t comment on it.

Needing to distract herself from the sight, Dulsissia turns to Barthor. “Can you hand me the water, baby?”

Sighing as if greatly put upon, Barthor reaches out and hands her the water pitcher. “You know, I’m going to be the next to get the helmet. I’m not a baby, so maybe not refer to me as one?”

A completely irrational burst of anger flares up inside her and Dulsissia snaps her fingers at him. “Hey.” She snaps her fingers at the rest of them, gaining everyone’s attention. “I’m going to make something perfectly clear here and now. You? You are all my babies. All of you. I don’t care how old you are, how many helmets you put on, whatever right or wrong you do, whether you’re fifty and have babies of your own, even grandbabies, I don’t care; I’m going to call you my babies. Deal with it.”

Barthor flushes a deep red, Din blinks wide-eyed, Raga shrugs and Corin merely keeps eating as he resigned himself to his fate years ago. Paz… She has no idea how he responds. He looks at her, but the helmet hides his expression and he remains silent.

“I assume that includes me as well then?” Davarax drawls, leaning back in his chair. “Since you said ‘all of you’? Nice. I’m going to be the first baby ever with stubbles.”

That has the children laughing and Dulsissia to be the one blushing. She gathers herself and looks directly into his t-visor. “I guess so. Baby.”

The children laugh even more, but Davarax picks up on the suggestive tone of her voice and she can almost see him choke on his smugness. Hah.

At the end of the evening, Dulsissia makes sure to bundle up some of the food in a box that she hands to Paz by the door. “Here you go. I added some sweets too. Don’t tell the others.”

Paz huffs a faint laugh. He’s clearly spent time with Davarax too, by the sound of it. Then, after a moment of hesitation, Paz moves forward, slides his arms around her waist and hugs her close.

Closing her eyes, Dulsissia instantly leans down to wrap her own arms around him. “Welcome home, baby.” She whispers and her heart aches when she feels a faint shiver go through him.

And when the boy doesn’t let go, keeps holding on to her, a little too tight, Dulsissia has to fight the urge to try to pick Paz up and carry him like she’ll do to the smaller children.

Eventually Paz does let go, steps away and reaches out a hand, which Raga is quick to take and the children start to flood out of the room, until it is only Corin left, who starts cleaning off the table, and Dulsissia who walks over to the door to say good night to Davarax.

Leaning against the door frame, he reaches out and tucks a lock her hair behind her ear. “I really did miss you.” His voice so very soft and gentle.

Dulsissia struggles to look up at his t-visor, smiling. “Good.” She tugs lightly at the fabric just above his breastplate. “Because I missed you too. Are you okay? I saw the damage to your clothes.”

“Yeah, just minor injuries. Had to clean up a little rabble, but with Dez going through them like a hammerhead corvette, they weren’t a problem for long.”

Long enough for Davarax to be injured. Does Paz have scars too now? Dulsissia feels another rush of gratitude that they’d made it home. “You’re going to stay for a while now, right?”

“Absolutely.” Davarax’ gloved fingers come up to touch her lips for the briefest of seconds, then his hand move over to cup her face and he leans down so they can ever so gently touch foreheads, a modest touch in front of Corin’s suspicious eyes. “Good night, Dulcy.” He straightens and looks over at Corin. “Good night, Corin.”

“Good night,” Corin replies, “I’m glad you’re home again.”

“Me too.” Davarax replies, takes a final glance at Dulsissia and then walks back to his own room.

Knowing he’s right across the hall and yet also aware of how he needs to rest more than… anything else leaves Dulsissia squirming in her bed all night and very grumpy in the morning.

Her bad mood doesn’t get to last long. She and Corin have barely eaten breakfast before there is a knock on her door and she finds an uncharacteristically energetic Davarax.

“If you have something planned today, cancel it.” He blurts out.

Blinking wide-eyed, Dulsissia then raises an eyebrow. “Okay?”

Davarax turns to leave, but pauses and looks back at her. “And maybe tomorrow too. Yeah, cancel tomorrow too.”

He’s gone before she can ask any questions so she sends her son a quizzical look.

Corin looks equally puzzled and can merely shrug in response.

It’s about two hours later that Davarax appears again. He’s got a bag hanging on his right shoulder and the other children with bags of their own behind him. “We’re heading out.”

Curious, Corin wanders over to where Dulsissia is standing in the doorway and she automatically yanks him close so not get infected by whatever insanity has struck Davarax. “Out? Who? Where?”

“You, me, the kids.” Davarax gestures.

Dulsissia shakes her head, confused and increasingly worried. “But… it’s not allowed. Is it?”

“Not usually, no.” Davarax admits, gesturing her to come with them. “But I, uh, asked nicely.”

“We did it once before.” Raga pipes up, all smiles and excitement. “It was awesome!”

To her surprise, Dulsissia sees even Din is almost bouncing with happy energy. She looks over at her son, who is increasingly affected by the insanity despite her best efforts. He is grinning up at her with a hopeful look on his little face.

“Please, mommy? Please?”

“We’ll look after you two.” Paz declares.

Dulsissia looks over at Davarax, who tilts his head a little and says; “Trust me?”

Sighing, she shrugs. “Okay.”

It’s unnerving to to leave the Covert with the kids in tow. Heading into Nevarro by herself is scary enough, which means Dulsissia is ready to fire her blaster at her own shadow if it so much as looks at the children wrong.

Davarax leads them out of the city, he seems relaxed and confident enough, and Dulsissia actually feels a hint of fondness when she sees the less-than-shiny ship that had brought her and her son to safety.

Din actually runs ahead and Davarax presses the button on his vambrace to lower the ramp for the boy. And of course, where Din goes, Corin follows.

“I don’t get his fascination with that ship.” Barthor drawls, before casting a quick glance up at Davarax. “No offence.”

Davarax hums. “You’re riding in the back for that one, kiddo.”

“Oh, come on!” Barthor whines and Raga cackles at his misfortune before she jumps up on Paz’ back and he carries her on board the ship.

The surprises continue when the Razor Crest do not set course for space but heads west and keeps going west. Dulsissia peeks out the transparisteel, trying to tell herself not to be worried that Davarax is letting Din fly the ship more or less by himself and is fascinated by how the volcanic landscape turns more and more green and lush. Soon there are rivers and trees and even animal life.

It’s beautiful.

“Do you see it?” Davarax asks, standing next to to the pilot seat, one hand on Din’s shoulder and one hand on Corin’s shoulder as he stands next to the Mandalorian; mute with awe.

“I see it.” Din replies, flicking some switches and pressing some buttons. “Going in for landing.”

Davarax turns his head and shouts to the ones in the cargo area: “Buckle in, womp rats! We’re about to land!”

In her usual seat, Dulsissia flinches a little at the loudness but waves off Davarax’ sheepish apology.

She’s curious now. What is this place?

The landing is bumpy and a little scary, she can see Davarax about to intervene, but Din does manage to set the ship down without killing them all.

Outside the ship, they step into the gentle sunlight and the smell of damp soil and Dulsissia is amazed. She’s never seen such lush greenery. This is very different from the sterile enviroment of Seswenna, where everything is controlled and dictated by humans and what they deem to be in fashion, the polluted city she and Corin had met Davarax in or the dust-covered Nevarro.

Davarax picks up his bag and hers before gingerly nudging her with his shoulder, “Come.” and walks off.

She follows.

They come to a halt in a clearing and Davarax starts setting up what looks to be a camp site. He sets the children to different chores and only gives an absent sigh when he kneels next to what will probably become a fire place. “Paz, can you make sure,” Raga runs by him and climbs up the trunk of a nearby tree, “she doesn’t do that…”

Paz shrugs. “She’ll be fine. She got this.”

Davarax hums, not convinced but not visibly surprised by the incident or the response.

A little lost, Dulsissia stands at the outskirts of the site. She tries to hold on to Corin, but that only lasts for a couple of minutes before Corin frees himself to run after the others who take off with determination to finish their chore first. Watching in mild distress, she isn’t sure what to do with herself.

“Having you ever camped outside before?” Davarax asks.

Dulsissia shakes her head. The thought is a bit terrifying, but then she remembers that this last year she has been doing countless things she’s never done before. She can do this too. Taking a breath, she steps forward. “How can I help?”

The hours rush by. Davarax seems to be able to predict whatever madness they get up to, but Dulsissia struggles to keep up with the children exploring everything from tiny bugs to the massive creatures flying overhead, arguing, wrestling and climbing and generally getting incredibly dirty. Yet, she hasn’t heard them laugh so much in… ever?

“We should try to round up the rampant blurrgs and head back to the camp site.” Davarax says some time during mid-day. “We need to feed them before they try to eat each other…”

Dulsissia makes a thoughtful hum. Paz is somewhat clean, but Din and Barthor look like part mud-horns, while both Raga and Corin are more mud than child at the moment. “Yes, but… there is one thing we should do first.”

Davarax looks over at her. “What?”

She grins.

Fifteen minutes later, she wades into the river, still trying to tie up her hair, and proves to the others that stripping down to your underwear and going into the water isn’t going to kill them. Dulsissia learned to swim at a very young age, but she’d never been allowed to bring Corin out to teach him, and it sounds like the Covert children haven’t seen much of rivers and oceans at all.

The river here isn’t too deep, about waist height on her, and the temperature is cool but not cold.

Corin is the first to enter, following his mother like an obedient baby-porg, and once he is in; Din has to follow despite being clearly anxious of the liquid death trap. Raga will not be the accused of cowardice, so she stomps in next and grabs an anxious hold of Din. Barthor hesitates for a long time, but eventually he’s too curious to resist and joins them as well and then the splashing begins.

Davarax and Paz are the only ones who do not enter the water at all, despite the laughter and the splashing and encouragements from the others. Dulsissia suspects Davarax stays on land to keep Paz company.

After almost one hour, she wades back up on land, still laughing at a rather successful splash attack on both Corin and Din as they were trying to gang up on her. “Davarax?” While Paz is sitting cross-legged on the riverbank, Davarax is standing partially turned away and staring at the forest.

Instantly worried, Dulsissia inches over to him. “What’s wrong? Is there something out there?”

“No. No, nothing wrong. Everything is fine.”

Things are clearly not fine. He’s really tense and refuses to stop staring at the forest. “Then why-”

“Listen, if the kids weren’t here, I would be looking at you. Trust me, I would be looking. I would be looking so much. I would not stop looking. But they are here and… so I can’t. Okay?”

Oh.

Stupidly flattered, Dulsissia reaches out and gives him an apologetic pat on the arm. “I’ll get dressed.”

Davarax replies with a tense nod.

After they eat, Dulsissia is in the middle of trying to land a raspberry on the shrieking and flailing Barthor’s neck after he called her old when Davarax orders them up on their feet and to huddle together. He lifts his vambrace and declares it is time for a new holo-picture considering that their family has grown.

It’s a wonderful idea, it only saddens Dulsissia a bit when Davarax seems surprised when she insist on him being in the holo as well. Against all rules, he sets the vambrace on the ground and it scans them all together.

Dulsissia’s big challenge comes when dark has settled and the exhausted children are piled up together next to the camp fire, so deep into sleep that a Star Destroyer couldn’t wake them up. She tries to arrange her blanket on the ground, gingerly removing stick after nasty stick and pointy rock that is determined to poke her everywhere, but sleeping on the ground is not going to be easy.

“Having trouble?” Davarax asks, sounding amused. He’s sitting with his back against the trunk of a tree with his legs stretched out in front of himself, absently whittling away at a small twig.

“A bit.” Dulsissia admits with a sigh and gets up on her knees to stare down at her blanket.

“Hey…” Davarax calls for her to look his way and he sheaths the blade before tossing the twig away and nodding her over. “Come here?”

Smiling a little, Dulsissia gathers up her blanket and makes her way over. She settles next to him and as he lifts his arm to fit her under it, Dulsissia arranges the blanket to cover their legs.

Davarax does his laughter-huff. “I don’t need-”

“Shush. We’re sharing.” Dulsissia states, tucking their legs in before leaning back against him. She’s childishly pleased to feel his arm around her.

The ground is still hard, Davarax’ armor even more so, and still she can hear herself make a satisfied sigh just from being close to him again and being worn out from the day. She feels… happy. Content. “Today was nice. Really nice. Thank you.”

“Thank you.” Davarax says in a solemn voice, quietly, for her ears. “My only comfort while being away was the fact that my kids were in good hands.” He sighs. “Usually when I get back, they... One time I had to spend three hours persuading Din to come out from his hiding place. Do you know this is the first time I’ve come back to smiles instead of tears?”

Dulsissia closes her eyes for a moment, determined not ruin the moment with her tears, and she takes his hand between hers. “It’s like you said; they are good kids. They are. I’m just sad not everyone can see that.” She lifts his hand and presses her lips to the glove. “And I’m so very happy they have you.”

“Us.” Davarax pulls her a little closer. “They have us.”

It takes a couple of days for him to catch up on his other obligations to the Covert and only then does Davarax tell Dulsissia to appear thirty minutes before the children, just like that very first time.

“Okay, show me what Decco has taught you.” Davarax says as he walks into the training room in front of her. “Impress me, Dulcy.”

She doesn’t really think. She just acts, assuming he’s prepared. So when her foot shoves hard at the back of his knee, made easy due to her walking behind him, and Davarax goes sprawling with a squawk; Dulsissia is horrified and drops to her knees next to him. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

Davarax rolls over on his back and sighs. “Nothing hurt but my pride.” He then actually laughs a little. “Next time I will clarify to wait until we have actually started the lesson.”

Dulsissia awkwardly tucks her hair behind her ear and tries a smile. “At least I managed to knock you down this time.”

“You knocked me off my feet the second you ran to protect your son instead of just fleeing when I shot those men in the alleyway.” Davarax replies in a fond voice. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since.”

Dulsissia’s heart does a flip. It hasn’t done that while he was gone. It feels nice. And a light touch makes her look down and she sees how he is reaching out two fingers on the hand next to her to brush them lightly back and forth across her knee. The contact feels even nicer. She remembers...

She looks down at the floor and her face burns. “Maybe… Maybe we don’t have to train today? Maybe we could… hide in your room for a bit? Do you want that?”

“No.” Davarax replies.

The embarrassment triples and a sting of humiliation hurts bad. She’d just assumed… Her mistake.

Davarax hoists himself up on his left elbow and his right hand comes up to cup the side of her face. “I need more. Less than thirty minutes? It’s not enough. It’s nowhere enough for me. I can’t. I’m sorry, Dulcy, but I need more. I need hours. I need to love you, hold you, savour you...”

His voice is raw with that very need, and the heat in Dulsissia’s face has suddenly nothing to do with embarrassment of humiliation. It feels like all of her is burning.

She lifts her gaze and looks at his t-visor. “Tonight then?”

Davarax’ breath hitches and he only barely manages a faint nod. “If you want to?”

Dulsissia breaks into an embarrassed laugh, having trouble believing this man is real. “I’m the one throwing myself at you here.”

“Technically you kicked me to the floor.” Davarax offers as a weak joke.

They both end up laughing and she gives his arm a half-hearted slap. “And I said I was sorry. Now get up. We have some training to do.”

Davarax grunts. “I thought I was the teacher and you obeyed my every word?”

“You are and I did, but that only ended up with you eating floor, so maybe we should change it up a little?” Dulsissia sends him a challenging look and that finally gets him up on his feet with the snort of an offended bantha.

Suddenly he’s all business and no play. Dulsissia tries several times, but she fails to send him crashing to the floor again.

Later, when the children emerge, eager to train, she stays to watch. She’s amazed at the progress her son has made since they arrived her. He is not as advanced and smooth as the others, but even without maternal bias involved, Dulsissia can see that Corin is becoming quite the skilled fighter. He’s got talent.

As for the other kids; Barthor lacks strength, but his speed is unmatched. Raga is quite the brawler, willing to take punches if it means winning a fight and absolutely fearless.

The only thing that saddens Dulsissia is the change in Paz. He still supervises the others, corrects them when they do something wrong, but when his fist connects with Corin’s cheekbone and he knocks him down; he does not apologize.

She wonders what Paz has seen, what he went through last year. Some scars aren’t physical.

After training, Corin asks if Din can eat at their place and Dulsissia nods. It’s the same question, every day, and she always gives the same answer. But today it also gives her the opportunity to ask a question of her own.

“Can I ask you something?” Dulsissia leans against the wall next to where Davarax is standing, prodding at his vambrace.

“Sure.” He replies, not looking up from whatever he’s doing.

“Din’s parents. His Mandalorian parents. Why did you choose them?”

Davarax pauses and finally looks up at her. “I didn’t. I mean, I agreed to it. I don’t know her too well, but I’ve served with his father in the Fighting Corps. He’s a loyal man. A good Mandalorian.”

“Din is not happy there.”

Davarax sighs and looks over at where the boys are disappearing out the door. “I know.”

“Isn’t there anything you can do?” Dulsissia asks. “Or, is there anything I can do?”

“I’ll talk to them.”

It’s almost funny. Dulsissia would laugh if she wasn’t so frustrated. In her youth, she had waited impatiently for Antonia to fall asleep so she could sneak out to meet boys. Now, a mother herself, she is waiting for her son to fall asleep so she can sneak out to meet a man.

No, not just ‘a man’. Davarax. Her heart does another flip at the very thought.

“Mom, are you okay?” Corin asks, a little concerned, bless his soul. He’s sitting in his bed, reading, blissfully calm after a long day of hard work pretending to be a bounty hunter with the others.

Dulsissia looks over at him, realizes she’s forgotten to pretend to be reading as well and is just tapping a nail restlessly at the datapad instead. She puts on a smile. “I’m fine, baby. I’m just thinking about what to get you for your birthday, that’s all. You keep reading.”

Corin beams her a happy smile before obediently going back to his story.

Dulsissia closes her eyes and wills time to speed up.

Time seems to drag on even more slowly, but after about a million standard years, Dulsissia finally dares to slip out of bed and tiptoe out of the room.

Her heart is racing and her pulse is thumping in her veins and she’s not even in the same room as Davarax! At least this time she’s had the good sense to put on something more flattering than the white sack, plus made sure her hair doesn’t look like the backside of a wookiee. And when she gingerly knocks on the door and it opens to reveal Davarax without his armor, merely his clothes, she knows he’s been thinking about this as much as she has.

She steps inside the room, the door closes behind her and for a second she and Davarax are just looking at each other. Unbearable hunger pulsating between them. A craving so strong Dulsissia doesn’t even want to resist it. She wants to be loved, held and savoured.

The second she steps towards him, he moves towards her. When her hands reach up and her arms go around his neck, his hands reach down and take a hold of her hips, lifting her up like she weighs nothing. Holding on to each other like they die if they didn’t, he carries her towards the bed.

Davarax had said hours and he had meant it. Dulsissia is amazed to find his hunger doesn’t stop between the bouts of lovemaking that leave her gasping for air. Instead she shivers with soft happiness as he trails his bare hands over her naked skin and whispers his love for all of her, body and soul. There is actual reverence in both of his voice and his touch. He sounds like a man in love.

Dulsissia gets to learn him as well and memorizes it all. He has two new scars. His neck is really sensitive. He goes weak when her lips touches his skin. And she can almost lull him to sleep by gently running her fingers up and down his back for a little while. She loves him so much it hurts.

An interesting revelation comes when Dulsissia declares that those tiny refresher showers could not fit two people, not in a billion standard years, and Davarax proves her wrong. Now she can never shower again without blushing…

For the last hour, all they do is lie curled up together in his bed, sharing each other’s warmth, watching with lazy satisfaction as their fingers play together in a slow, pointless dance of touching, braiding, stroking.

Content. There’s that word again.

Dulsissia is sad to leave, by the time she’s by the door they have already been through three kov’nyns and she pauses a final time to burrow her face to his neck and inhale the scent of him before forcing herself to leave. Davarax doesn’t let go until he absolutely has to.

They will have this again, Dulsissia tells herself. Don’t worry. They will definitely have this again.

And while her own bed feels lonely and cold, it still doesn’t take long before Dulsissia falls into an exhausted and satisfied sleep.

Three hours later, Corin has to call her name twice before she reluctantly opens her eyes and forces herself out of bed to start the day. She’s still half-asleep when they eat breakfast.

“Are you sure you’re okay, mom?” Corin asks, frowning. “You look tired.”

Dulsissia hides her smile behind her second cup of caf. “I’m okay, sweetie. I promise. I’m more than okay. I’m really good. And to prove it, I am going to bake those sugar cookies today and you guys can have as many as you want after training. I’ll pack some for Paz. How does that sound?”

Corin lights up, beaming with delight. “That sounds awesome. You are the best, mom.”

“So I’ve been told.” Dulsissia mumbles with smug delight, sipping more caf.

She plans her day thoroughly, making sure to have time free when she knows Davarax will have time off and hopes that maybe they can spend time together. One of the first things she does is grab her cookies and head up to Nevarro while Corin and Din are working on some project with Barthor.

It’s kind of funny how several of her regular buyers are some of the scruffiest looking bounty hunters in the city, but Dulsissia knows they are a lot kinder than they look.

She does not expect, after finishing a transaction, to hear a horribly familiar voice.

“Dulsissia?”

Her blood runs ice cold, fear clamps around her heart, and Dulsissia needs a moment before she slowly turns around and faces the one who had spoken. It’s him. How is it possible? How did he find her? “Vecon.”

Short, dark hair combed back into slick order, the same cold grey eyes as Macero, the younger and less handsome brother, Vecon Valentis studies her from head to toe and then snorts a laugh. “It is you. What are you doing here on Nevarro? Wow. You look a mess, Dulsissia. How the mighty Motti has fallen, eh?” Vecon scouts the surroundings. “Where is the kid?”

Cold sweat is breaking out on her skin. Dulsissia tries to keep a neutral expression on her face. “I ran out of funds. Couldn’t feed him. So I left him on a different planet with some kind souls and told them I’d be back for him.”

Vecon looks at her, digests the words and ends up shrugging. “Oh well. We’ll find him. If he’s still alive.”

She will never let him get his hands on Corin. Never. Dulsissia turns to run, but four storm troopers are now standing there. She swallows hard, forcing the panic away, before turning back to face her former brother-in-law.

“Don’t bother trying to run.” Vecon drawls, picking up a package with cookies from her small make-shift table and he studies them. “My brother wants you back and I would hate to have to mess up that pretty face of yours.” He drops the cookies to the ground and smirks. “Are you going to come nicely? Please say yes.”

Dulsissia knows he’s hoping she’ll say no. While Vecon has nothing personally against her and probably won’t harm her unprovoked, she has wronged his brother and that cannot be forgiven. She could try to run, but odds are against her. Five of them, one of her. She has a weapon, but so do they and while they most likely wouldn’t shoot to kill, it would be easier to escape without a blaster wound to slow her down. Also, even if she did manage to run, where would she run to? There is no way she will lead them to the Covert.

No, better go with them and find a way to escape before they get to Macero.

Dulsissia sticks her chin out. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Vecon smiles and steps forward, his boot crunching the cookies under it, reaching out to twirl a blonde lock of her hair around his index finger. “Excellent.” He glances down her body. “Hand over your weapons, please.”

Of course he won’t let her keep her weapons, but Dulsissia still hesitates. Davarax had given her these weapons. They were gifts from him. That makes them precious to her. “What if I promise not to use them?”

Vecon chuckles and gestures to the storm troopers, who don’t hesitate to grab her arms and start pawing all over her to look for weapons. Fighting against them is pointless, but she still struggles.

“Bring her.” Vecon orders once the blaster and blade are claimed and they proclaim her safe.

Dulsissia tugs angrily to free herself from the soldiers’ grip on her arms, but she walks with them.

Get them away from the Covert. Get them away from her loved ones. Then escape. Somehow.

A meagre comfort is how the many eyes watching this will at least inform Davarax of what happened and her son will be cared for.

A massive vehicle is waiting at the outskirts of Nevarro and Dulsissia is brought on board with Vecon and the storm troopers to join another group already seated there. Every soldier present is watching her with curiosity, more than one white helmet tilts and gives them an almost innocent look of inquisitiveness, but she knows these are people who wouldn’t kill her if ordered to do so.

The drive is bumpy and uncomfortable, but Dulsissia barely notices. She sits, back straight and stares emptily ahead at the wall, thinking about what Corin will think when she doesn’t come back. The Covert will have no trouble uncovering what has happened to her, but the thought of the fear her son will feel is killing her. His father is suddenly so very close and he has lost his mother for who knows how long? Forever?

No. Not forever.

Dulsissia will find her way back to him. To them. She will.

They arrive at the base and she is brought inside by the ones who had dragged her out of Nevarro. Vecon is talking on some communication device, clearly rescheduling his plans as he has something more important to do; bring back his brother’s property.

Shortly after that, she’s brought on board a huge imperial ship and locked away in a small, bare room clearly designed for prisoners a lot more dangerous than her.

Dulsissia sits down on the hard bench meant to be a bed, draws her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. She doesn’t cry. She refuses to cry. She won’t give Vecon that.

A meal is brought to her twice a day, but otherwise she is left to slowly rot from boredom and fear.

Then comes the day when an officer steps inside her cell and holds out a bundle of clothes towards her.

“You are to wear this.” The woman orders with cold distaste. “The Colonel will see you in fifteen minutes. Make yourself presentable.”

The doors slide open and Dulsissia steps into the room where Vecon is sitting. The table in front of him is covered with all kinds of luxury food that Dulsissia used to love and hasn’t tasted since she left home. The smirk on Vecon’s face says he suspects this fact.

Forcing herself to smile, Dulsissia walks over to the chair drawn out for her at the opposite side of the table.

“Better.” Vecon says, lifting a fancy looking glass with red liquid and giving her a mock toast. “Much better.”

He’s referring to the dress she’s wearing. A beautiful and smooth thing in a glorious teal colour.

Sitting down, holding on to her smile through pure will power, Dulsissia can’t hide the anger in her eyes. “I never pictured you for a man of fashion, Vecon?”

“I’m not.” The man confirms, taking a sip. “But I can’t have my brother’s wife wandering around looking like something… cheap.”

The insult burns. It shouldn’t, she knows that. There was nothing wrong with the clothes she had been wearing. But the words burn and she feels angry with herself. “I’m sure he will be very grateful.”

“Oh, I know he will be.” Vecon puts the glass down and picks at something on his plate. “He’s been very determined to find you, Dulcy.”

“Don’t call me that.” Dulsissia growls with such intensity and anger it surprises him.

Dropping whatever he was holding between his fingers, Vecon goes from surprise to amusement. Chuckling, he sits up straighter and pays actual attention to her. “Well, well, has the loth-kitten grown claws? Was that attitude I heard? Not just snooty Motti condescension, but actual attitude?”

Dulsissia gives him a sour smile.

Vecon shrugs and gestures for her to eat. “I like my women spicy, so I’m pleased to hear it. Macero, as you know, won’t like that one bit.” He takes another sip of his glass. “I’ve sent him a message and expect to hear back from him any day now. He’s on a mission, I cannot disclose his whereabouts as it is top secret, but I think he’ll take some time off to greet you on your return.”

Fear gnaws in Dulsissia’s belly. She stares at her plate, unable to eat a single thing.

“There is one thing I need to know.” Vecon drones on. “Where is the kid?”

“I told you.”

“Yeah, you did.” Vecon sets his grey stare in her. “And now I want you to tell the truth.”

Dulsissia just stares at her plate.

“Don’t make this difficult for the both of us.” Vecon says. “I will find him, eventually. You know that. I’m inclined to say he’s back on Nevarro, but then I also think you might have been more reluctant to leave if he was. Maybe I should level the place just to be sure?”

Closing her eyes, trying to block out his words, Dulsissia feels sick to her stomach. Vecon is capable of doing just that. She knows he is. Not merely because he has the soldiers and firepower to do it, but because he’d enjoy doing it.

Macero and Vecon are frightfully similar in many ways, but where Macero is cold and efficient, Vecon is less clever and more randomly cruel. It’s what has kept him from advancing further in the army, unlike his brother who has met the Emperor himself.

Macero wouldn’t care if an orphanage caught fire as long as it benefited him, Vecon would stay to listen to the screams.

“Just tell me, Dulsissia.” Vecon says with a friendly smile so fake it wouldn’t fool a blind man. “My brother wants his son back. He misses him. How could you take Corin away from his father?”

“Burn Nevarro to the ground. Bomb the planet from orbit. I don’t care.” Dulsissia bluffs, raising her gaze to meet his with cold contempt. “You won’t find him there.”

Clicking his tongue, Vecon studies her for a while and then gestures to the guards. “Take her back to her cell.”

Dulsissia gets up.

“And you can leave the knife.” Vecon says, not looking up from piling food on to his own plate.

Clenching her jaw, Dulsissia places the butter knife back on the table, turns and walks out of the room.

How many days has it been? It’s hard to tell in this coffin of a room. Dulsissia spends the time either lying on the bench or pacing back and forth the two and a half steps it takes from covering the distance from one wall to the next.

When two guards come to fetch her, Dulsissia is almost grateful. Her mind is tormenting her with all kinds of scenarios of what her boy must be going through so even Vecon is a welcome distraction.

They bring her to a different place this time. The door opens to reveal some kind of communication room and she sees Vecon standing there, in the middle of the room with his back towards her, and Dulsissia braces herself. Will it be more threats? Bargaining this time, maybe?

What she doesn’t expect it Vecon stepping aside and revealing Macero’s holo-image.

“Dulsissia.” Macero’s voice greets her.

“Macero.” Dulsissia whispers back. She can’t move. Can’t look away.

“I have been looking for you.” Macero says, his voice is flat but his eyes are angry. “I’ve been very worried. You can imagine my relief when Vecon sent me a message that he’d found you.”

Vecon grins.

Dulsissia says nothing.

“He also tells me you will not give up the location of my son.” Macero continues.

His son? Dulsissia feels a flicker of fury burn in her belly. He hadn’t shown one ounce of interest in ‘his’ son until there was talk about sending him away. Macero had been pleased when she’d told him she was pregnant, but she’d been more or less on her own for the next nine months except for when they were posing for her family. Macero had shown up again a mere hour after Corin was born, inspected the child and nodded with approval before leaving again.

Growing up, Corin had been desperate for his father’s attention and time, but he never gave it to him. “Do you even remember his name?” Dulsissia can’t hide the bitterness in her voice.

“Of course I remember his name” Macero does not take the bait. “Tell me where he is.”

“No.”

Macero stares at her with those cruel eyes of his and then turns his attention to Vecon. “Bring her to Seswenna. Stay with her and make sure she gets a lot of rest. She probably shouldn’t talk to anyone. It’s been a tough experience for my dear wife and she needs time to recover.”

“Understood.” Vecon replies, like a good soldier. He always did whatever his brother told him to do.

“Don’t do this, Macero.” Dulsissia asks, taking a step forward. “Just let me go. You won’t ever see me again. Tell them I died or something.”

“What I’m going to do is find my son.” Macero replies with cold contempt. “And you, my dear wife, will stop your pathetic whining and go back home. You are going to stay there, put on a happy face and give me sons and daughters.”

Exhaling sharply, Dulsissia shakes her head. “I’m not some pawn in your plan, Macero.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Macero doesn’t even blink. “That is exactly what you are. Our children will be Mottis and not even your family can deny that. They may dislike me, but they can’t turn their back on their own blood.”

She hates herself as frustrated and frightened tears well up in her eyes, but Dulsissia can’t stop it. “I won’t be a part of it. I refuse. Do you hear me?”

Vecon snickers and for a second there is almost pity in Macero’s eyes before they go cold again and he gives his final orders to Vecon and the holo-image blinks out.

Shivering, Dulsissia stares at the floor and tries to remember how to breathe. She is brought back to reality when something takes a hold of her chin and Vecon lifts her face to grin down at her.

“Let’s get you home, Motti Princess.”

Fury and disgust flares up in her and Dulsissia’s eyes narrow. “Always obeying orders from big brother. Always such a good little boy, aren’t you, Vecon? Trying and trying, but never as good as your brother. Never clever enough, never skilled enough, so you suck up to Macero and happily do his dirty work.”

Vecon flinches with anger and abruptly backhands her across the face.

It hurts. It snaps her face to the side, almost knocks her off balance, and Dulsissia can feel her cheekbone burn with what will become a bruise. But it also gives her the excuse and opportunity to spin back and ram her elbow with all of her might into Vecon’s face in a move that would have made her Mandalorian teachers proud.

She is rewarded with a very satisfying crunch, the sound of his nose breaking, and Vecon’s surprised bellow of pain, before the guards grab her and restrain her before she can do any more damage.

“Get her back to her cell!” Vecon howls.

Dulsissia doesn’t fight them.

She spends the next eternity staring up at the ceiling, lying on the hard bench and going over every possible escape attempt she can conjure up. From being on the ship itself, to the transport to Seswenna to her old home. She knows that house far better than Vecon. She can get away. The big problem will be getting off the planet.

It happens when one of the guards is entering the cell to hand her a plate with food.

The ship gives a violent shake, there is the sound of a distant explosion, followed by several others, and soon red lights are flashing and alarms are blaring out in the hallway.

“What is going on?” The guard asks a storm trooper running by the cell.

“We’re under attack!” Is the reply.

Dulsissia sits up. They’re being attacked? Could this be her chance to escape?

Before she gets the chance to do anything, the guard runs out and closes the door behind them, but Dulsissia doesn’t give up. The ship continues to shake, there are more explosions, and she starts to pace her cell. She has to be ready. This might be her moment. All she needs is the opportunity…

The door opens again and this time two guards run in to grab her. Vecon is standing out in the hallway and he’s not looking pleased. In fact, he’s sending almost nervous glances towards the back of the ship.

“What is going on?” Dulsissia asks, pulled out of her cell by the guards.

“We are leaving.” Vecon replies. Oh, he is definitely nervous. And don’t those explosions sound a little closer now?

“Why?” Dulsissia tugs to free herself but yet again in vain. “What is happening?”

As if to answer her question, there is the sound of blaster fire and she can see the flashes of light in the distance.

“He’s here, sir.” One of the guards says.

“Thank you for pointing out the obvious.” Vecon snaps. “Don’t just stand there! Stop him!”

The guards run forward to join the others fighting, while Vecon grabs Dulsissia’s arm and tugs her close. She notes that he’s also drawn his blaster.

Down in the hallway, the fighting is coming closer. The ceiling light at the very end gets taken out by an errant blaster shot so there are only slight flashes of what is going on when a weapon is being fired. The storm troopers are being pushed back by whomever is approaching.

Vecon slowly lifts the blaster and places the muzzle to Dulsissia’s head.

She hardly notices, can only stare as she sees a flash of blue armor amidst the chaos in front of her.

With deadly accuracy with his blaster shots, a lone figure is making his way towards them. A flick of a wrist sends a grenade into a room to take out some troopers popping in and out to fire at their opponent. A harsh kick sends a helmet flying from a trooper already on the floor trying to reach for their blaster nearby.

Davarax. It’s him. How? She doesn’t care. It’s him. He’s here and that is all that matters.

A group of guards emerge from a room behind him while the Mandalorian is focused on two death troopers in front of him, but before Dulsissia can open her mouth to scream a warning, Davarax activates his flame thrower and turns in a calculated circle to engulf them all. He doesn’t wait for the last trooper to fall before he’s already moving forward, lifting his blaster to shoot at his next target.

Davarax is completely indifferent to the shots fired at him, doesn’t react to the ones bouncing off his armor, merely keeps stalking towards them and takes them down, one by one. He comes with the smell of fire, blood and death.

A trooper jumps out of room next to him, blaster raised, but Davarax slams his elbow into the helmet so hard it shatters. The Mandalorian then pulls out a vibro-blades and throws it.

The blade flies through the air and takes down the one guard left standing.

The red lights are still flashing, alarms are blaring, there is thick smoke in the air, and Davarax is standing in front of Dulsissia and Vecon.

“Don’t, Mando.” Vecon warns. “I will shoot.”

“Not if he kills you first, Vecon.” Dulsissia says, eyes on Davarax’ visor. There is blood spattered all over his helmet and armor. If death had taken shape as a human, this is what it would look like. His quiet, looming figure would have terrified her if she didn’t know the heart behind it. He’s no threat to her. To everyone else on the ship, yes, but not to her.

Vecon draws a sharp, startled breath, and his finger is about to tighten on the trigger, but before he can squeeze it; Davarax’ grip engulfs all of Vecon’s hand and twists it, making him drop the weapon with a pained yelp.

Dulsissia breaks free and takes up position next to Davarax, staring at Vecon bent over in awkward twist due to the grip on his hand. “Tell Macero I’m never going back. He will never see his son again. And to leave me alone. If he comes after me or my family again, I won’t ask nicely to be left alone. I will kill him.”

Vecon sneers. “Tell him yourself.” And with his other hand, he rams a blade into Davarax’ side.

The Mandalorian jolts with a pained grunt and Vecon has one moment of triumph before Davarax ends his life with a well aimed blaster shot and lets him fall to the floor.

Dulsissia ducks under Davarax’ outstretched arm still aiming the blaster at Vecon to get to where the blade is embedded in him. “Oh. Oh, no. What-”

Davarax yanks the blade out and grabs her arm to make her look up at his t-visor. “We have to go.”

His voice. His perfect voice. It’s really him. She nods.

Davarax bends down, picks up Vecon’s blaster and gives it to her. “I need you to cover my back, Dulcy. Can you do that?”

She nods again.

They move and Dulsissia makes sure to fire at everyone who appears behind them while Davarax violently and without mercy ploughs through the storm troopers piling up in front of them to prevent them from escaping. Once they finally step inside the large hangar bay, Davarax turns, wraps one arm around Dulsissia’s waist and then they are flying up towards the ceiling.

A couple of blaster shots follow them, but mostly the chaos and destruction and sudden lack of leadership seems to have stunned the crew of Vecon’s ship, which makes it almost easy to climb into the vent and move through it. They emerge in a docking tube and Dulsissia exhales a weak laugh when she sees the side of the now beloved Razor Crest at the end of it.

“Go.” Davarax nudges her, then follows with blaster raised to cover their backs while they run towards his ship.

Dulsissia half expects Vecon’s ship to fire at them or at least pursue, but the big ship lies dead in the darkness and the Razor Crest can detach and make a run for it without any trouble. Yet it still takes over thirty standard minutes before Davarax stops pushing the engines as well as constantly checking the radar, only then does he finally lean back in the seat with a strained exhale.

Dulsissia unbuckles herself and runs over to hover next to him. She sees he’s bleeding in several places, his clothing is singed and ripped, the armor has countless new dents and scratches. Reaching out, her hands move from place to place and hover uselessly. Where to begin?

She makes a surprised squeak when Davarax suddenly pulls her close and hugs her tight.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yes, but you’re not.” Dulsissia says, trying to push herself away. “You’re bleeding. You’re hurt, Davarax. I have to-”

“In a moment.” Davarax says, not letting go, whispering; “Just… Please.”

And that is what breaks her.

Not threats or horrors, not death and destruction, but those softy whispered words.

Dulsissia wraps her arms around him, lets him ease her up on his lap and curls as close to him as possible while he holds her as close as possible.

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #Dulsissia Motti #Davarax #Baby Corin #Fearsome Four #Mandorin AU #what if

69 notes · View notes

bedlamsbard · 3 years

Text

Part 10 of the other side AU concept! Next up will be the epilogue scenes. As a reminder from Part 1, the current state of the New Republic here takes more from the EU than it does from the new canon (though has some nods in that direction), because I’m more familiar with the EU and like it more.

Previous: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

About 6.5K below the break.

***

Only General Airen Cracken, the head of Rebel Intelligence, and Leia Organa were present when Hera did her post-mission debrief. She suspected that this op was going to be the kind whose reports were mysteriously lost – that if they ever existed at all – but as it was she gave Cracken and Leia the truth as best she could.

When she had finished, Cracken and Leia glanced at each other. The small office was quiet for a long time, broken only by the hum of the air filters on the big warship and the sound of steps in the corridor beyond the closed door.

Cracken turned the data card with the Cluster-Prism files over in his fingers, frowning to himself. He was a human male with graying fair hair, his mild expression belying the sharpness in his eyes. After a few moments, he said, “I would say that none of what you just told us leaves this room, but I assume under the circumstances you’ll be informing members of your old crew the details.”

“I could hardly not,” Hera said, forbearing to point out that most of them had been there when she had returned. Luke and Ahsoka had taken Kanan off to talk to him privately; since Hera hadn’t heard any alarm klaxons yet, either they had all killed each other quietly or it was going as well as it could under the circumstances. Luke and Ahsoka didn’t get along at the best of times and this wasn’t those.

Cracken tapped the edge of the data card on his desk, then shrugged and said, “This should get us a step ahead of Warlord Zsinj – several steps ahead, with any luck. Will you be transferring back to the Lodestar? You’re due some leave that I assume you’ll want to take under the circumstances.”

“Airen, you know as well as I do that a general never really gets to go on leave,” Hera said dryly, which made the corner of his mouth quirk up in a grin.

“I do that.” He pulled open a desk drawer, removed something, and tossed it to her. “By the way, the Council vote was four days ago. Alliance commissions are automatically transferred to the New Republic, but if you did want a new assignment, this would be the time to ask.”

Hera caught the neat circle of embroidered fabric and inspected it; the new insignia was the Rebel Alliance starbird surrounded by fifteen starbursts. She turned the patch over in her fingers, thinking.

“Hera?” Cracken said, when she had been silent too long for comfort.

Hera put the patch down on the desk in front of her, smoothing her fingers over the starbird, and looked up at Cracken. “I’m going to resign my commission.”

His sandy eyebrows shot up. “Why?”

“There’s something I’ve needed to do for a long time,” Hera said slowly, “and I’ve put it aside for far too long. I can’t do that anymore.”

“You’re talking about Ezra Bridger,” Leia said.

Hera glanced at her. “Yes.”

Cracken rubbed a hand over his chin. “I’ve read those files. Vanished off into the Unknown Regions with Grand Admiral Thrawn and what was left of the Seventh Fleet.”

Hera nodded.

“I met Thrawn, back in the old days,” Cracken remarked. “If he ever returned, we could be in for a bigger fight than Zsinj and Isard and the rest of that lot have been giving us. Do you have any reason to think they’re out there? Bridger, Thrawn, the Chimaera, any of the other ships from the Seventh?”

“No more reason than to think they’re not,” Hera said. “I won’t be alone.”

“Mmm.” Cracken tapped his fingers on the table. “Not being from Starfighter Command or representing High Command in this case, I can’t accept your resignation, General Syndulla. I will say that since the Council vote, we’ve already had a rash of personnel resigning, officers and enlisted alike. Some of them aren’t interested in going legit, others believe that the Council vote means the war is over.” He shook his head. “As long as there’s even one Imperial Remnant ship or base out there, the war will never be over. You’d be surprised at how many people don’t believe that, though.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

He snorted. “No, you wouldn’t. You’re like the rest of us old-timers. We saw too much. Kills our credibility as far as the kids who joined up after Yavin or even Endor think, let alone the ones who lived through Cinder.” He leaned back in his chair, sharp eyes considering. “You’re too good an officer to lose, Hera.”

She stiffened, but he held up a finger to silence her before she could protest.

“Let me finish before you tell me to go to hell and flounce off with that resurrected boyfriend of yours.”

“I never flounce, Airen. And it’s fiancé.”

His eyebrows went up. “Congratulations are in order, I suppose.” Then he frowned. “Is this for the damn pension? Because as I recall, technically Jarrus was never an Alliance officer –”

Leia stirred and said, “It’s in the Articles that members of informal rebel cells have the right to apply for retroactive status if they couldn’t formally join the Alliance due to captivity, distance, or other reasons –”

“Such as being dead?” Cracken said.

Hera met his gaze. “Prove it.”

He massaged his forehead. “Oh, for love of the Force.”

“The last formal rank he held was commander,” Hera said.

“In the Grand Army of the Republic, I assume.”

“There’s precedent. Rex –”

Cracken waved a hand. “I’ll sign the datawork if that’s what you want. If it’s just for the pension rather than actually finding him a command –” He tapped a finger on the data card. “This does count for something, but we’re a bit short of commands at the moment.”

“What, even with officers resigning left and right?” Hera asked.

“That’s not the problem. The Governing Council wants to reduce the size of the military, despite the fact that nothing actually changed after they had the vote and we’ve still got Zsinj and Gideon and half a dozen other warlords out there.”

Her voice very dry, Leia said, “There’s a faction in the Council that believes that once we have an established government again with a senate and maybe a chancellor or a president or whatever we decide to call it that most of the Remnant holdouts and the independents will fall in line.”

Hera rolled her eyes. “Has Borsk Fey’lya actually talked to any of the independents?”

“You can tell me if you think your father would pick up his calls.”

Hera snorted softly. Ryloth had refused the offer to formally join the Rebel Alliance until certain conditions were met, which the Alliance Council had been refusing to grant for the past year. With the Curia in disarray after almost twenty years of the Empire doing its best to delegitimize it, Cham Syndulla had managed to get the bulk of political power on Ryloth in his own hands, for better or worse. “Not the last time I spoke to him, which was only two weeks ago. We’re getting off-topic, Airen. And yes, the pension would be useful; just use the carbonite forms and leave the being dead part out of it; it isn’t like it’s never happened before. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Starfighter Command won’t accept your resignation without a good reason, and maybe not even then,” Cracken said, with a wince at the words “carbonite forms.” They hadn’t been used often, but they were a datawork nightmare for everyone involved.

“Why not? I’m a decent combat commander, but there are plenty of others who are just as good or better, and you can’t tell me that some of the people thinking about retiring wouldn’t be just as happy training pilots, so I’m not exactly necessary there.”

He ticked off reasons on his fingers. “You’re young, you’re pretty, you’re a woman, you’re not human, you’re a general – for that matter, you’re from one of the independent worlds in the Outer Rim and in high society back on Ryloth, even if most Core Worlders see that as the back of beyond – because most Core Worlders see that as the back of beyond –”

Hera frowned. “What does any of that have to do with it?”

“Apparently Ackbar had this conversation with Wedge Antilles while you were gone over some hot new project Antilles has in mind – nothing to do with you, but Antilles pointed out that most of the best-known officers in the Alliance – excuse me, the New Republic – are human, and mostly male. Except for you,” he added to Leia, who grimaced. “You, General Hera Syndulla,” Cracken went on, pointing at her, “are a PR officer’s dream. I guarantee that whenever you get back to the Lodestar there will be a message waiting for you with orders to report for a HoloNet interview and probably a photoshoot. All very reserved but sexy, to make it clear that the New Republic is open to everyone and that we’re not the Empire; even a Twi’lek woman can rise high.”

Hera fought down the memory of the younger Hera’s anguished voice saying, Most humans just think certain things about Twi’lek women. I’m sure even your Rebel Alliance is like that. “If you’re trying to convince me not to resign, it’s not working.”

“It won’t matter, because Starfighter Command won’t accept your resignation, and Ackbar won’t for the same reason if you try to go over their heads to him. He doesn’t look good on the front of a holomag unless you happen to be another Mon Cala.”

Hera rubbed a hand over her face. “Please just stop talking or I won’t even bother with resigning and just desert.”

“Yes, please do,” Leia said dryly. To Hera she added, “You’re not the only one, but I don’t work as well for it because I’m human and a princess of Alderaan. And married, but a really good reporter could spin that if they wanted to.”

“I’m trying to get married,” Hera pointed out. “Get to the point, Airen.”

“You were seconded to Intelligence for this operation,” Cracken said. “I can’t accept your resignation, but I could give you a new assignment. And right now no one’s going to notice if you’re transferred here permanently, with all the datawork chaos from the transition.” He held up a hand to still her protest. “You may need a New Republic general’s authority if you’re out in the Unknown Regions searching for a missing Imperial fleet. We’ve had rumors about Thrawn for years; he’s been the bogeyman beneath the Alliance’s bed since well before Endor. Since Jakku, more than a few Imperials have vanished, claiming they’re off to find him. If he’s out there, then we need to find him before they do, and they have a head start.”

Hera leaned back in her chair, frowning. “Starfighter Command is not going to like you poaching me anymore than they’ll like me resigning.”

Cracken and Leia exchanged a glance. “I can handle the fallout,” Leia said. “There’s enough else going on right now that no one is going to notice for a while, since you’re seconded already.”

Hera turned her frown on Cracken. “What do you get out of this?”

“We get someone out in the Unknown Regions looking for Thrawn,” Cracken said, raising an eyebrow. “Which I’ve been asking for since Endor, but we’ve never had the resources to send anyone out there. We still don’t, but if you’re going anyway –” He tilted his head.

Hera suspected there was a trap in here somewhere, but as it went Intelligence didn’t have so many generals in it that anyone but Cracken could give her orders. “I agree with conditions,” she said.

“What are those?”

“I don’t answer to anyone but you – or Ackbar,” she had to concede, since as the commander-in-chief of the New Republic military he had precedence even over divisional commands, “– and my crew draws a salary.”

Cracken closed his eyes briefly, clearly annoyed, but just said, “Agreed. We’ll discuss the specifics later.”

Hera and Leia left a few minutes after that, letting the door slide shut behind them as they stepped out into the corridor.

“I have something for you that I didn’t want to give you in front of General Cracken,” Hera told her quietly, drawing her aside into an empty room. She withdrew the box Bail Organa had given her from the bag slung over her shoulder, holding it out to Leia.

For a long moment Leia just looked at it. Eventually, she reached out, her fingers hovering just above the silver insignia inlaid in the fine wood of the lid, then she snatched her hand back as though she couldn’t bear to touch it. Hera didn’t protest, just waited patiently as Leia stared at it.

She hadn’t left her meeting with Bail Organa out of her report, though she hadn’t conveyed the exact content of their conversation either, not having a Jedi’s near-eidetic memory.

Finally, Leia reached out with shaking hands and took the box from her. She didn’t open it, just drew it in against herself, cradling it against her chest. Her voice a little shaky, she said, “He was…well?”

“Yes,” Hera said. She started to reach out, then hesitated, not certain if Leia wanted the comfort or not.

Leia didn’t seem to see her. She whispered, “They’ll live. They’ll all live. Somewhere else, even if not…here. They’ll live.” She bit her lip, then looked up, her eyes brimming with tears. “I’d like to be alone now.”

Hera nodded. She touched Leia’s shoulder briefly and found that the younger woman was trembling; Hera squeezed her shoulder and then left her alone, letting the door slide closed behind her.

She was on her way back to the Ghost, docked in one of the massive warship’s several bays, when she ran into Ahsoka. Hera stopped at the other woman’s gesture, stepping aside into a mostly empty wardroom. The only two officers already there cleared out when they saw Hera’s general’s insignia, saluting her briefly before they left.

Hera eyed Ahsoka a bit warily. While they had been friendly in the old days with Phoenix Squadron, Hera had never been able to feel anything other than resentful of Ahsoka’s return from Malachor, nor had she been able to shake the suspicion that the other woman was keeping something from her. Something had changed there, something more drastic than the circumstances had suggested. Hera was vaguely aware that that was more than a little unfair, given what those circumstances had been, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. It helped that since her return Ahsoka had avoided her and most of the other members of the Rebel Alliance, preferring to go off on her own rather than take any formal role.

“Before you ask,” Ahsoka said, “it was my decision to bring Jacen here. Sabine went to get him from Ryloth. I spoke to General Syndulla before she arrived.”

Hera felt the muscle in her jaw twitch. Political reasons meant her father couldn’t set foot on a New Republic ship and thus couldn’t have come with Jacen; Ahsoka must have been very convincing to get him to agree to this. “I hope you have a good explanation for why you thought my five-year-old son ought to be on a warship.”

Ahsoka tucked her hands behind her back, frowning. “Believe me, Hera, if I hadn’t thought it was necessary I never would have brought him here. Rex didn’t find me until after you had already left.”

“That still doesn’t explain why my son is here,” Hera said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Because I didn’t think we would be able to get you back without him,” Ahsoka said. “And we nearly didn’t even with him here.”

Hera frowned at her. “Explain.”

Ahsoka sighed and looked around, then dropped into the nearest armchair and folded her legs in front of her. Hera sat too, a little stiffly; the chairs and couches in the room were all mismatched and hard-worn, but comfortable enough compared to the inside of a cockpit.

“When Luke sent you away – sent you over there – he had to have a – for lack of a better word, an anchor, a target. That was why they had to use you and not someone else.” She rubbed briefly at her forehead, suddenly looking every day of her thirty-odd years.

Hera nodded warily. “No one else with a high enough clearance for this op could be relatively certain of being able to access the same place they probably were before Scarif. We weren’t even sure just using the Ghost would work, except it did.”

“She – the Hera Syndulla from that universe, I mean – was there when you arrived?” Ahsoka inquired, looking briefly curious.

“Not in the room. She said she was just outside the ship – the Ghost was docked in a hangar on Naboo.”

“Hmm.” Ahsoka smoothed the side of her thumb over the armor plate resting across her crossed legs, her expression academically curious for an instant before she drew herself back to the subject at hand. “Having her there, in the Ghost, in a specific time span, gave Luke something to aim for. It could have been any number of other universes, too, other – other possibilities.”

Hera nodded. “Kanan – the other Kanan – said that the reason Luke had to use those constraints because he wasn’t aiming for anything very, very specific. He had to have a range, but not one which was too wide.”

Ahsoka frowned in thought. “I suppose. I didn’t think about it like that, but the dialect on the artifact is very archaic. My grasp on it is better than Luke’s, but I came to the same conclusion he did.” She looked up, her brows drawing together. “The…other Kanan. He didn’t use an artifact or a focus of any kind?”

Hera shook her head. “He said he didn’t need to. He said that Jedi didn’t use artifacts like that for anything they couldn’t do naturally, those just made it easier, but he also didn’t think he would be able to manage it if he didn’t know who he was looking for or if I wasn’t there, because otherwise he would have to – to sort through all the options, and he didn’t think he could do that.”

The other woman nodded slowly, her frown deepening. For a moment she looked like she was considering commenting on that, then she shook her head and said, “Anyway, that’s going there. Coming back is harder, especially since you’re not a Force-user and can’t direct yourself. Going there, the other Hera Syndulla could act as an anchor for you, to – to pull you into that universe. But to come back to this universe – well, you’re not here. You’re already gone. One of the holocrons Luke found talked about people getting lost in the transition.” She flattened her palms on her knees. “We didn’t find the reference until after you had left.”

“What does Jacen have to with any of that?” Hera asked, deciding to worry about that later.

“Jacen is your son,” Ahsoka said. “Blood of your blood, bone of your bone, to be old-fashioned about it. Your father probably would have worked just as well, but –”

“But he can’t set foot on an Alliance – a New Republic ship unless Ryloth joins the New Republic,” Hera said, rubbing a hand over her face. “You could have taken the Ghost to Ryloth instead of bringing Jacen here.”

Ahsoka shook her head. “The same reason but the other way around. And General Cracken wouldn’t allow it, since this was an Intelligence operation. I did ask.”

Hera ground her teeth and bit back her first few responses to that. When she didn’t say anything, Ahsoka went on, “We thought that Jacen would be able to serve as an anchor for you in this universe, especially because he’s Force-sensitive. We weren’t counting on –”

“Kanan?” Hera filled in for her when she hesitated, and Ahsoka winced.

“No. He…probably helped you along, but it’s hard to tell. It’s not like any of this has been done in living memory.” She glanced aside, clearly uncomfortable.

“Jacen is Kanan’s son too,” Hera pointed out.

“Yes,” Ahsoka admitted, looking even more uncomfortable. “I’m sure that helped. I don’t know what would have happened if your father had been here instead of Jacen.” She added with the ghost of a smile, “You should probably comm your father when you have a chance.”

“I’ll do that,” Hera said dryly. “He’d probably like to know that Kanan’s back and we’re getting married, too.”

Ahsoka sat up so abruptly that Hera heard her back pop. “What?”

“We’re getting married,” Hera repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Ahsoka pushed to her feet and paced the room, as if she suddenly couldn’t bear being seated any longer. Hera turned her head to watch her, frowning. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, of course not,” Ahsoka said, her voice strained and the words seemingly automatic; almost in the same breath she finished, “Yes.”

Hera felt the muscle in her jaw jump. “You and Kanan used to be friends.” You and I used to be friends, she thought, but held back the words. They weren’t enemies, but it had been a long time since they had been friends. Some of that was due to Hera’s inability to look at any Force-user without thinking, it should have been Kanan, but Ahsoka had pulled away from everyone except Rex after she had come back from Malachor.

Ahsoka stopped pacing. She was still facing away from Hera, but Hera could tell that she had her arms crossed over her chest, her shoulders hunched in. “We were. We are.”

Hera rubbed a hand over her face. She wanted to go back to the Ghost, reassure herself of Kanan’s presence, hug her son, and comm her father, but apparently she had to deal with this first. “Do you have something against my son?”

“Jacen’s a very nice boy,” Ahsoka said without turning around. She was quiet for a long moment, then she said, “Do you know who Luke’s father is?”

“A Jedi Knight who was killed during the Purge,” Hera said. She and Luke had talked about it a little when they had been stationed on Hoth together; he had sought her out after someone had told him about Kanan and Ezra.

“Anakin Skywalker,” Ahsoka said, a wealth of pain in her voice. “He was my master. And he didn’t die during the Purge.” She took a deep breath, then turned around to face Hera. “You might know him better as Darth Vader.”

Hera blinked rapidly.

“I don’t think – I know Kanan. I knew Kanan. The situation isn’t the same. I just –” Ahsoka bit her lower lip.

“You had better not be saying what it sounds like you’re saying,” Hera said quietly.

Ahsoka closed her eyes briefly. “After – Malachor – I did some digging. During the Clone War I’d made assumptions – well, we all had. It’s not as though Jedi never had affairs, though we weren’t permitted commitments outside the Order. And Padmé – Luke’s mother – had been a friend of mine. We all knew they were having an affair. Except it wasn’t an affair. They had been married in secret just after the war started.” There was agony on her face as she looked at Hera. “Anakin broke his vows, and because of it the Order died. They all died.”

Hera got to her feet. “Kanan isn’t him.”

“I know that!” Ahsoka snapped. She took a deep breath, putting one hand on the back of the chair nearest her.

“And the Jedi Order is a generation in its grave. There’s no one left but you and Kanan.”

“I know that too,” Ahsoka said. She was clutching the back of the chair so tightly that Hera heard the suede of her gauntlets creak.

Hera crossed her arms over her chest. “Does Luke know you knew his father?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “Knowing wouldn’t serve any purpose. The Anakin Skywalker I knew…” She let the words trail off, then shook her head again. “I can’t look at him and think of anything but what Anakin did, and I won’t burden him with that more than he is already. That’s not a ghost he needs to carry with him.”

“Is it one that you need to?” Hera asked her quietly.

“If I could set it aside I would,” Ahsoka said. She sounded unspeakably weary. “But everyone I know died. That isn’t an exaggeration. Everyone I know – except Rex – died because of him, because he decided to break his vows and we all loved him so much we let him.” She rubbed a hand over her face, briefly dislodging her headband. “Hera, it’s nothing against Kanan, truly, or you, or Jacen. But Anakin was a good person too, and so was Padmé. And – and everyone died. All of them. Padmé, Obi-Wan, the Order, the clones, the Republic – they all died because of Anakin. The Emperor as well, but – Anakin sided with that. And I’ll never know why, not really. I did what I could to find out, but – but everyone is dead. There’s no one left who knows. They’re all dead. And Anakin did that.”

She looked up at Hera. “That’s what I see every time I look at Luke. I won’t give him that burden, but I can’t set it aside either.”

“Is that what you think about Kanan and me?” Hera asked her. “That we’re on the knife’s edge of everyone dying?”

“No,” Ahsoka said. “No. But when you said it –” She hesitated, then went on, “– when you said it, it was the only thing I could think of. And I know you and I knew Kanan, but I knew Anakin too.” She looked at the chair she was gripping, then sighed and moved around to drop into it. “I knew you and Kanan were involved before, but I didn’t – I didn’t have to know it, if that makes sense. And I didn’t know about Anakin then. When I came back, I did know, and – and you had Jacen. And Luke was there too, and I couldn’t…I couldn’t bear it. I know it’s not fair,” she added defensively as Hera glared at her.

“No, it’s not.” She tried to bite back the sarcasm in her voice, but suspected she didn’t succeed. She stood there, looking at Ahsoka’s slumped form in the armchair, and said the first thing that came to mind, “Did you tell Kanan you were worried about him snapping and murdering us all?”

Ahsoka looked badly startled. “No, of course not. We had other things to discuss.” She grimaced, then added, “And Luke was there, and some of what I have to say to Kanan I won’t say in front of him.”

Oh, this should be good, Hera thought. She had always thought of Ahsoka as fairly even-tempered, but the handful of occasions where she hadn’t managed to avoid Luke had been memorable for everyone with the misfortune to be in the vicinity. “Then if you’re not going to say it to me, I need to go comm my father.”

She was almost at the door when Ahsoka said slowly, “Hera –”

She turned back. “What?”

Ahsoka bit her lower lip. She was quiet for a long moment, then she said, “Ezra could have brought Kanan back six years ago, when he brought me back, and I stopped him.”

Hera froze.

Ahsoka looked back at her, her gaze weary. “There was a reason –”

“I don’t care,” Hera said. Her mind felt as though it had gone blank with either shock or rage; she wasn’t sure which at this point. She balled up her fists at her sides, not certain either whether she just needed something to do with her hands or if she was trying not to hit Ahsoka. “I don’t care,” she said again, and was surprised to find that it was the truth. She took a shuddering breath, because Kanan was here now and it really didn’t matter as long as Ahsoka didn’t try to remedy what she clearly thought of as a mistake. Then her mind caught up with the rest of what Ahsoka had said and she snapped, “Do you know where Ezra is?”

“No,” Ahsoka said. She had sat up straight, but not risen. “This was before he went missing – from what Sabine’s told me, from when he went inside the Jedi Temple on Lothal.”

Less than a day after Kanan had died.

Hera stared at her, trying to think of something to say. She only realized she had put her hand over her stomach when she felt the edge of her belt buckle pressing into the side of her hand. She had been pregnant then and only just beginning to realize it; she wouldn’t be certain for another few weeks.

Hera still had nightmares about that day.

“I told Ezra I would find him,” Ahsoka said.

“Don’t bother,” Hera said. “We’ll do that.”

She turned and left.

She felt as if she was having an out of body experience, her hands still shaking, the ordinary ship sounds around her strangely muted, even the recycled air moving across her face every time she passed a vent seemingly alien. Whatever expression was on her face seemed to warn anyone off; passing crew members or pilots veered around her.

Slowly – painfully slowly – reality reasserted itself, and by the time she had reached the hangar bay where the Ghost was docked she was breathing normally again, the sound of her footsteps on the durasteel floor familiar instead of muffled. When she tapped her code into the Ghost’s locking mechanism and waited for the ramp to lower she almost didn’t feel like screaming anymore.

Once inside she raised the ramp again, then just stood with her forehead tipped against the ladder leading up to the cockpit, aware of the sound of voices from up above. Kanan’s was one of them, though several layers of deck and closed doors made it impossible for her to make out the words. She let the cool metal of the ladder leech out her remaining anger until she finally felt calm enough to climb up and follow the voices into the common room.

She stopped in the doorway, fighting back her instinct to burst into immediate tears. Kanan was sitting on the floor with Jacen, his expression somewhere between stunned and awed. Jacen had brought out the box of toys Hera kept on the Ghost, as well as some that he must have brought with him from Ryloth, and was gravely showing them to Kanan. He did this by putting each one into Kanan’s left hand, then guiding Kanan’s right hand over the toy – at the moment it was a large stuffed anooba plush that Numa had made him several years earlier. Sabine and Zeb were sitting at the holotable, watching them and looking like they weren’t terribly far from tears either. Chopper was watching too, and somehow managed to look as emotional as it was possible for an astromech droid to get, though at Hera’s approach he chortled a greeting.

“Mama!” Jacen said gleefully, abandoning the anooba in Kanan’s hands, and scrambled up to run to her.

Hera hugged him, kissing his hair. “Hi, baby. Are you and your father and Auntie Sabine and Uncle Zeb having fun?”

Jacen nodded enthusiastically and tugged her towards Kanan and the pile of toys. “Look what Grandpapa gave me!”

Hera sat down next to Kanan and leaned over to kiss him, then turned her attention to the delicately carved nunas-and-gutkurrs set Jacen showed her. After he was certain she had seen it, he took each small animal out of the case to hand to Kanan, who inspected it solemnly with his fingers before passing it back and accepting the next one. Hera had had a similar set when she was a child, but had lost most of the pieces by the time she was ten.

“So are you heading back to Starfighter Command now?” Zeb said eventually, his voice elaborately casual. Chopper echoed the question, curious.

“No,” Hera said. “I’m transferring permanently to Intelligence, and there’s something I need to talk to all of you about.”

Sabine, who had been slouching and picking at some peeling paint on her knuckle plates, sat up straight. “We’re going after Ezra?”

Hera stared at her. “I didn’t even say anything!”

Sabine waved a hand. “It’s the only thing it could be, now that Kanan’s back.” She grinned happily at him. “Unless you wanted to stay and help Luke with his mission to restore the Jedi.”

Kanan grimaced. “He seems like a nice kid, but I just spent three hours in the middle of a doctrinal dispute and I didn’t even think I still had standards for heresy.”

They all stared at him.

“…what,” Zeb said eventually.

He winced. “Don’t ask. I was afraid to because I’m pretty sure I disagree with both of them, but pointing that out just now seemed like it was asking for trouble.”

“Amateurs,” Sabine sniffed. “No one’s dead yet. By Mandalorian standards that’s barely even a spirited debate.”

“To be fair, two of us were dead,” Kanan pointed out dryly. “We just happened to get better.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t die from the doctrinal debate, so it doesn’t count.”

“That’s because every time the Jedi have a doctrinal debate that results in someone dying it also results in a galactic civil war that lasts for years and kills hundreds of thousands of other people,” Kanan said. “So we try to avoid getting to that point.”

Sabine shrugged. “Maybe if you had those more often you’d have smaller civil wars.”

Zeb frowned at her. “Isn’t that why all you Mandalorians hate each other in the first place?”

“Not as much as we hate anyone who tries to interfere in our civil wars.”

Zeb gave Hera a pained expression.

“Don’t look at me,” Hera said, gathering Jacen into her lap. “Ryloth was still having blood feuds between clans three generations ago, and even now you shouldn’t try to get a Fenn and a Kru in the same room together if you don’t want trouble.”

Sabine pointed at her. “See, someone who understands me.”

“I don’t think anyone understands you,” Zeb muttered. “Back on Lasan – and Lira San – we all just sued each other.”

“Well, that sounds boring.”

“And dueling, but that’s been illegal for a century – two on Lira San. And that’s only for extreme cases anyway.”

“Now we’re talking,” Sabine said, sounding more satisfied as Chopper chuckled agreement. “I was starting to get worried for a moment there.”

“About what?” Kanan wondered out loud. “It’s not like there aren’t lawyers on Mandalore.”

“Well, not anymore,” Sabine said.

Kanan raised an eyebrow at her, then visibly decided not to pursue that line of questioning any further and went on, “And I’m pretty sure under the circumstances trying to kill either Luke or Ahsoka would have been a bad idea.”

Hera felt the muscle in her jaw twitch again. Jacen turned his face up to her, feeling her sudden tension, and Hera hugged him. Kanan picked up one of Jacen’s discarded toys, a small stuffed Loth-wolf, and balanced it briefly on the palm of his hand. Then he turned his hand sideways, the Loth-wolf remaining suspended in mid-air, and sent the Loth-wolf galloping towards Jacen. He bounced with glee, making Hera let out a soft oof, and caught it.

“I can do that too!” He narrowed his eyes in concentration, then sent the Loth-wolf back to Kanan. It wobbled a little in mid-air, but Kanan caught it easily, grinning. He picked up the anooba Jacen had shown him earlier.

Jacen put his hands out gleefully, not waiting for Kanan to send it to him. It sailed through the air to him and he hugged it, then he caught the Loth-wolf that Kanan sent after it.

“Hold that for a few minutes, love, we need to talk,” Hera told him. She settled him more comfortably in her lap – he was heavier than she remembered him being, but then again she hadn’t seen him in person for several months – and looked at the rest of her crew.

Her crew.

She, Zeb, Sabine, and Chopper had only been in the same place a handful of times over the past six years, and Kanan hadn’t been there at all. Hera had served with a number of people whom she had gotten along with, many of whom she had liked, but none of them were the three beings and one droid in the room with her now – in the Ghost with her now. She had thought that she would go to her grave without ever having this again.

Hera swallowed past the lump in her throat. “There have been rumors about Grand Admiral Thrawn and the Seventh Fleet for years,” she said. Zeb knew some of this, but she didn’t think Sabine did and Kanan certainly didn’t. “Rebel Intelligence has never been able to confirm that they’re still out there or that Thrawn was in touch with the Emperor – or anyone from the Remnant, for that matter. Because we’ve been busy dealing with the warlords since Endor, General Cracken – that’s the head of Intelligence,” she added for Kanan’s benefit, “– hasn’t been able to send anyone out into the Unknown Regions to investigate the rumors.”

“What happened to General Draven?” Kanan asked, startled; the previous head of Rebel Intelligence had been on Yavin while they had been there.

“He died,” Hera said. “Five years ago.”

Kanan winced.

“So since we’re going to be out there anyway, we might as well do it with Alliance – Republic – authority?” Sabine said. She cocked an eyebrow at Hera. “That is what you said to Cracken?”

“More or less,” Hera said. “Doing it with Republic authority was his idea. I was just going to resign.” She hesitated, then added, “I can’t order you – any of you – to come. But I’ve let this go long enough and I won’t wait any longer.” She couldn’t help but look at Kanan as she went on, “Ezra is family, and we’ve all lost enough family to the Empire.”

“I’m in,” Sabine said.

“Me too,” Zeb said. Chopper chortled agreement.

Kanan just leaned over and kissed her.

Hera let out her breath, relief making her shoulders slump. “All right,” she said. “Make your arrangements. We have to take Jacen back to Ryloth.” She smiled at Kanan. “And we’re getting married.”

That got them a round of back-slapping and congratulations and promising not to actually do it until both Sabine and Zeb could be there. By the time they were all settled down again, Hera was flushed with happiness, leaning against Kanan’s shoulder with her other arm around her son.

We’re all right, she thought, looking around at her crew – at her family. We’re all going to be all right.

#cut scenes and concept writing #other side au tag #also a peak example of 'I prefer to work things out in fic versus writing meta' re ahsoka here

50 notes · View notes

invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years

Text

Déjà vu - Part III

Character: Bucky Barnes x Tall!Reader

Summary: Bucky thought his days of memory loss were done. But after a serious head injury, he can’t seem to remember anything past his time in Wakanda. But he’s starting feel like his life is missing more than just memories.

Word Count: 5,100

Part II

Bucky didn’t know how he got tricked into actually helping with the new recruits.

No, actually, he knew exactly how.

Steve asked him and Bucky realized Y/N would also be helping.

Things hadn’t changed between Y/N and Bucky since she told him everything.

She still avoided him.

For the most part, she still appeared to hate him. She ignored Bucky, barely even looked at him when they were in the same room. She was keeping her distance and it didn’t look like that was ever going to change.

Even now, when they were standing just feet apart, both watching the recruits.

Bucky figured he might as well try his best to help and not be a complete waste a space. Y/N would probably be even more annoyed with his presence if he remained silent and useless.

But he chose the wrong person to do it with.

One of the male recruits – who Bucky had caught checking Y/N out too many times to count – was holding his knife incorrectly during a drill.

“Agent Brooks, is it?” He asked politely.

The guy seemed annoyed that he was even being talked to. But he nodded.

“You might want to adjust your grip. You’ll break your wrist if your victim gives up a fight or any kind of push back.” Bucky thought it was a fair criticism to give.

But Agent Brooks didn’t seem to agree. “The US Army would have to disagree...” He muttered, but clearly wanted Bucky to hear.

At this point, Bucky didn’t realize his quiet conversation had caught Y/N’s attention.

Bucky just blinked. “Right. Carry on then…” He didn’t care enough to pick a fight with a cocky recruit.

Agent Brooks moved back to a friend. “The fuck does he know?” He mumbled to him. His friend just laughed.

“I can’t believe they even let him on the compound. Guess they overlooked all the people he murdered,” Agent Brooks added. “He just keeps losing his memory and the government keeps forgiving him.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. He could ignore them. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Agent Brooks!” Y/N snapped out of nowhere.

At some point, she’d made her way over to them.

Y/N was notoriously the instructor who almost never even spoke. People looked shocked by her simply raising her voice.

“Did you have something you wanted to say to the group?” Y/N asked impatiently.

“I-I-I–No!” Agent Brooks stuttered. Then he got a little braver. “I just don’t value the criticism of–” His eyes glanced to Bucky. “Of a Winter Soldier.”

Y/N stepped closer to Agent Brooks. He was shorter than her, almost all of the recruits were.

But Bucky noticed how her shoulders and back were held even straighter than usual. And her head was held high enough that she was looking down at the recruit.

“Agent Y/L/N,” Steve warned.

Bucky hadn’t even noticed Steve come over.

But Y/N ignored the Captain.

Without breaking her glare with Agent Brooks, she pulled out her gun and offered it to him.

He looked confused, but took it anyways.

“Do you not believe in mind control, Agent Brooks?” Y/N asked, raising her voice so everyone could hear. They were already all watching, might as well put on a show.

“I don’t…I don’t know,” he stuttered.

“It’s a yes or no question.”

“No,” he finally admitted, adding a glare to Bucky for effect.

Y/N crossed her arms and watched him. “Point the gun at Agent Roxwell.”

His eyes widened in horror as his body did what she said, without him wanting it to.

A few people gasped quietly. None of the recruits had known about Y/N’s abilities.

Bucky’s heart started racing as he watched Y/N make an example. He looked at Steve for some kind of help. But Steve knew better than to use his authority against Y/N.

“What’s the matter, Brooks? Feel like you’re out of control?” Y/N asked.

But Agent Brooks didn’t answer. His hand was shaking as he pointed a deadly weapon at his friend.

“Pull the trigger,” Y/N ordered.

He did.

People yelled out, expecting to see their comrade’s brains blown out right in front of them.

But the gun was loaded with blanks.

Agent Brooks dropped the gun and keeled over, gasping for breath.

“You could’ve just killed your friend. What would you have done, Agent Brooks? Run from the government? Waited for them here?” Then she turned to the rest of the group. “But more importantly, what would you tell them when they asked why you shot your best friend?”

Y/N turned back to Agent Brooks. “I guess we know you wouldn’t say mind control…because you don’t think it exists.”

Everyone watched Y/N with shock and fear.

Without giving anyone any chance to react further, Y/N walked out of the training room.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Steve told the group. “You’re released.”

Everyone quickly made their exit, leaving just Steve and Bucky alone in the giant room.

“She didn’t have to do that,” Bucky muttered.

“No, she didn’t.” Steve agreed. He started picking up equipment around the room. “But she’s always been protective of you.”

Bucky swallowed, finding that his mouth and throat were dry.

“Even when she hates me?” He challenged.

Steve paused. “Buck, you and I both know she could never actually hate you.”

Bucky didn’t see Y/N for days after that.

But now he didn’t know if it was him avoiding or her avoiding him.

———————

Bucky was eating breakfast in the kitchen with Steve, minding his own business, when all hell broke loose.

He heard her before he saw her.

Then he gave Steve a look of both fear and betrayal.

“Don’t look at me. I didn’t tell her,” Steve immediately defended with his hands held up in surrender.

“Stupid, broken, white boy,” was being mumbled loudly around the corner right before she made her entrance.

Bucky shot to his feet. “Shuri! What are you doing here?”

The Wakandan princess stormed up to him and pointed a finger, jamming it into his chest. “Do not play dumb with me, Bucky! You know exactly what I am doing here!” Her Wakandan accent got even thicker when she was upset.

Bucky looked to Steve for help, but there was no helping him.

“You get amnesia, and you do not think to call and tell me?” Shuri yelled.

Bucky looked over to see that Okoye was in her Dora Milaje uniform, trying to hide a smirk. Clearly she was enjoying the show. “You brought Okoye?” Bucky accused.

“Oh, I’m not here to protect her. I’m here to make sure she doesn’t kill you,” Okoye clarified.

“What is the matter with you?” Shuri asked Bucky. “You are walking around for months without 5 years worth of memories!”

Bucky’s face finally dropped. “I…I didn’t want to bother you,” he admittedly quietly, so Okoye and Steve could barely hear him.

————————

Next thing Bucky knows, he’s being shoved onto a Wakandan jet and getting flown back to the country.

When Shuri got a glimpse of the lab at the compound, she hid her chuckle and muttered something about having a better work space when she was a toddler.

She snapped at Bucky to pack a bag.

Bucky was too scared of her wrath to argue.

But the princess seemed to have calmed down by the time she was piloting the jet back home.

She sighed. “When I said to call if you ever needed anything, I meant it, Bucky. We are friends. We always will be.”

Bucky bowed his head in shame. He intention had never been to insult Shuri.

“I know. I know all that.” He sighed. “I just…I didn’t want to feel more like a burden than I already do.”

Shuri gave him a sympathetic look, but stayed quiet.

“I just wanted to be strong enough to get it all back on my own,” Bucky finished sadly.

Shuri reached over and gripped his hand. “There is no shame in needing help, Bucky.”

“How did you even find out? I told Steve not to call you.”

“Sam,” Shuri answered with a shrug.

“Traitor,” Bucky muttered under his breath.

Another silence filled the jet.

“He also told me about…” she hesitated, “about what happened with Y/N.”

Bucky tensed at just the sound of her name. “I messed up, Shuri.”

“But you still have a chance to fix it,” she countered.

————————

It barely took a few hours for Shuri to scan Bucky’s brain and diagnose the problem. She assured him that his memory loss was not Hydra’s doing. It was just good ol’ fashioned brain damage. But damage that would have nothing against Wakanda’s technology and medicine.

“Are you ready?” Shuri had asked him as she held a weird looking helmet.

Bucky hesitated.

He was about to be reminded of how he broke Y/N’s heart, of all the mistakes he had made that led to him losing her. It was going to be hard to process.

What if the return of his memories was also the return of his old mentality? What if he saw reasoning in his past actions and decided to stay away from Y/N?

Shuri could see Bucky’s thought racing. She leaned forward and gave him an encouraging smile. “It will be fine, Bucky. I promise you that.”

Bucky blinked and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.”

“This might be overwhelming. Your memories could come rushing back or it could take some time,” Shuri explained.

“Will it hurt?” He asked. Not that he cared. He just wanted to know what to expect. Pain had lost its meaning long ago.

“A bad migraine will most likely occur. But other than that? Painless.”

Shuri slipped the helmet on Bucky’s head and then grabbed her tablet, punching a bunch of keys.

Bucky closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.

“We don’t let just anyone into the family,” Tony argued as he kicked his feet on top of the conference table.

Fury glared at him. “She has prevented World War III from happening more times than you’ve saved both the country and the world, Stark.”

“Oh, really?” He rolled his eyes. “So, how come none of us ever heard about it?”

“Because that was the point. No one was ever meant to.”

Bucky stared at the hologram images that were shuffling through like a slide show. Images of the agent – Y/F/N Y/L/N was her name. Bucky felt like he was almost too intrigued with the photos. No one else was glancing between her y/e/c eyes or her lips.

Bucky looked up to see that Steve was watching him. And his best friend was holding back a smirk, proof that he knew exactly what Bucky was thinking. Steve recognized that Bucky found her attractive.

“I wouldn’t worry about her trying to be a part of your ‘family,’” Fury said as he stood up, his signal that the meeting was over. “She doesn’t tend to make a lot of friends, keeps to herself, doesn’t talk much.”

“Wonder why…” Tony noted sarcastically.

“Enough, Tony.” Steve scolded him. He turned his attention to Fury then. “We’d be lucky to have her.”

“Figured you’d say something polite like that,” Fury answered before leaving.

That was the first time Bucky saw her. It wasn’t even in person and she’d already caught his eye. He felt guilty after because he couldn’t stop himself from reading her file. Her past was dark – like so many of them.

But Bucky still felt a pull towards her.

“You haven’t so much as given a woman a second glance since your brainwashing was eradicated,” Steve pointed out to him when they were alone. “What’s gotten you so enamored with Agent Y/L/N?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, punk.” Bucky feigned ignorance.

Steve glared at him, insulted that Bucky would ever think he’d believe him.

“She’s beautiful, I’ll admit that,” was all Bucky said before leaving the conference room.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” Bucky almost slurred.

Damn Thor and his too-effective Asgardian liquor. It completely did him in.

Y/N seemed taken back. But she recovered quickly. She reached for Bucky’s drink, “Maybe you’ve had enough of this shit, Bucky…”

The team had dragged her to a bar after a mission had really put them all on edge. They almost didn’t make it.

Now they all drank at a local dive bar. Tony had taken over the juke box, paid all the patrons’ tabs, and it made everyone leave them alone for the most part.

Bucky let Y/N take his drink away from him. Yes, he was feeling bold and a little buzzed, but he still had his wits about him.

He read her reaction and his face scrunched up in confused. “What? No one has ever said that to you before?”

“Bucky, can you stop?”

He noticed how she always spoke in questions. Not because she wanted to or because it was part of her personality. It was because she was so scared that she’d accidentally tell someone to do something.

“No,” Bucky defied with a smile on his lips. “No, your beautiful. And I’m not telling you that because I’m drunk. I’ve always thought that. I’m just sick of not saying something.”

“No,” Y/N mumbled as she stared at the floor.

“No?” He asked. She looked up at him.

And it was the very first time Bucky saw her not confident or unapologetic or ready to attack at any moment.

Y/N was flustered.

“I’m answering your question. No, no one has ever said that to me – at least…not to my face.” Then she genuinely thought about it. “Well, I guess it’s always been – I don’t know – just alluded? And when it was, it was because they wanted something from me.”

Bucky’s amusement disappeared then. He realized she was being serious.

“Y/N,” his tone was no longer flirtatious and happy. He was serious, voice gone low.

She looked at him. “You are beautiful.”

“Bucky, please–”

“No, shut up.” He cut her off. “You’re beautiful. And the fact that no one has told you that every day of your life is a damn shame.”

Y/N just stared at him, utterly baffled by him.

She’d gotten used to the lack of attention she received from men. She assumed it was a combination of her height and the general ‘don’t fuck with me’ aura she couldn’t stop from having.

But here Bucky was – a man that she had decided almost immediately after meeting was ridiculous handsome and sexy – telling her he thought he was beautiful without hesitation and with no ulterior motives at play.

“I’ve made you uncomfortable,” Bucky now looked disappointed with himself.

“No!” She yelped. “I’m sorry. You haven’t. I just…umm…”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky told her. “Listen, I’m gonna go.” He turned around to start leaving. But then he turned back to her. “But…everything I said. I just…I need you to know that it’s all true. OK?”

Y/N didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded. Then she watched him go.

“Fuck me. I need a drink,” she muttered to herself before making her way to the bar.

She was completely zoned out as she waited for her drink. Her eyes were glazed over as she went over and over and over what Bucky had told her.

“You OK?”

She jumped and looked to see that Steve was standing next to her.

“Yeah…umm…Bucky – I think he was pretty drunk.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve asked without any concern.

“He told me…I was beautiful?” That was putting it lightly.

Steve chuckled. “Oh, he didn’t say that because he was drunk. He’s in love with you.”

Y/N blinked. “What?”

“Yeah, he’s in love with you,” Steve repeated and then shrugged.

She glared at him. “Steve, why are you fucking with me right now?”

He chuckled. “I’m not!” Then he finished his drink. His whole demeanor got serious as he turned to fully face her. “And the reason I’m telling you is because I know Bucky, but I also know you. He’s in love with you. And you? I don’t think you know what to do with someone who’d love you the way that Bucky would.”

“Well – fuck, Steve.” She muttered.

“Figured you’d appreciate me getting right to the point,” Steve smiled.

She was stunned into silence.

“You two are my best friends,” he gave her a sincere look. “I think you would make each other really happy.”

It was raining hard out. Every so often a flash of lightning and a roll of thunder would join.

Y/N couldn’t sleep through the noise, but she still enjoyed it.

Bucky was still fast asleep.

Y/N watched him, studying every inch of his face.

He’d grown out a beard in the past few months and she had become quite the fan.

Now she stroked it, not being able to keep her hands off him, even when he was sleeping.

“Hmm…that feels nice,” Bucky hummed without opening his eyes.

Y/N smiled and then brushed some of his hair behind his ear.

“Couldn’t sleep with the rain?” He asked sleepily, slowly opening his eyes and squinting at her.

She nodded.

“Come here,” he lifted his arm, silently telling her to move into his embrace.

She did just that. Burying her face into his t-shirt.

He instantly started combing his fingers through her hair.

“James?”

Only Y/N called him that. And Bucky liked it that way. She called him Bucky around everyone else. But James was saved for when they were alone. Somehow she made a basic name sound like poetry.

“Mhmm?”

“I love you,” she whispered so quietly that she didn’t even know if he would hear her.

She felt his body tense and he sat up and pulled her away so he could look at her face.

He didn’t ask her to repeat herself and he didn’t question her.

But his eyes were searching for some sort of further confirmation.

Y/N just nodded her head. Then buried her face into his neck, hiding.

“I love you,” he whispered into her hair as she kissed the top of her head.

But they both had already known his whole perspective on it. He’d done everything to tell Y/N besides say those words, mostly because he didn’t want to pressure her to return them or panic her with his truth.

“I’m scared, James,” Y/N finally admitted in a whisper. She was braver as she burrowed herself into him and didn’t have to stare into his steel blue eyes.

Bucky held her even tighter, letting her fears wash over him. He knew how he wanted to respond. But he also knew nothing he said was going to push those thoughts out of her mind.

“I keep having nightmares where I…” She took in a short breath. “I use my powers on you. Like I’m so scared I’ll lose you that I force you to stay, even if you don’t love me anymore.”

“They’re just nightmares, Y/N.” He told her softly. “I’m always going to love you.”

And that wasn’t a lie. The lie was that he’d make her believe it wasn’t true someday.

Shuri was right about one thing, Bucky had a splitting migraine.

He woke up covered in sweat, like his memories had exhausted him physically as they returned to his mind.

He had to take a shower before he hunted down Shuri.

It felt the same way as someone saying a name of person you hadn’t thought about in forever and all of sudden you think, ‘I forgot that person existed in the world until you mentioned their name again.’

Bucky remembered how it felt when he’d finally heard Y/N talk after she hadn’t said a word to the team in the first few weeks at the compound.

Bucky remembered what her face looked like when she laughed so hard that her stomach started hurting. With it, he remembered how it felt to be responsible for the laugh, how he was jealous of anyone else who did it before he could.

Bucky remembered the first time he saw Y/N cry when she finally opened up and told him about her childhood and the state that Fury found her in. How, even though she was making terrible world leaders and crime bosses kill themselves, she felt like she’d finally learned how to do some good in the world.

Bucky remembered what it did to him every time he subtly stole a few seconds to stare at her long legs. Whenever Y/N would try to self-deprecate her tall and lean body, Bucky immediately shut it down. He refused to let her talk badly about the body that he worshipped.

Worst of all…Bucky remembered breaking her heart. He remembered lying to her, telling her he never loved her and that he never could. He remembered what it felt like to break his own heart in the process. He remembered the guilt that worked its way into his gut as he saw Y/N and Steve’s friendship fall apart because Y/N wanted nothing to do with Bucky, including still being friends with his childhood friend.

Bucky remembered it all.

–––––––––

It felt good to get back to the compound.

The feeling of home had been missing these past few months, having forgotten that it was exactly that: his home. Between the sense of the purpose and the friends he grew to call family, it was the only home Bucky had since before the war.

Bucky walked into the kitchen with his duffle bag to find the majority of the team having some sort of family dinner. There was a dozen pizza boxes on the island. Bucky assumed six of those were for Thor if he decided to stop in.

They all looked at him.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve greeted casually.

But Bucky knew they were all waiting for some kind of indication that Shuri had been successful.

Bucky’s eyes glanced around the room.

“Where’s Y/N?”

Everyone looked around at each other, but stayed quiet.

“She went out out with friends,” Natasha finally broke the tension.

“Where?” Bucky was insistent.

Nat eyed him. “Why should I tell you?”

“Nat, come on,” Steve pled innocently.

She turned her glare on him now. “What? He gets his memories back finally and we’re all just going to let him break Y/N’s heart all over again?”

Bucky looked at all their faces, remembering how everyone had taken Y/N’s side in the breakup, but never vocalized it. Except Bucky didn’t need to hear it from anyone. He knew they blamed him for Y/N alienating herself from group again – just like she had when she’d first arrived at the compound.

———————

Y/N could hardly hear herself think with how loud the music was playing.

It wasn’t a club, but it was nowhere close to being like the dive bars she usually frequented when she went out.

The lights were low and there was a big enough space for a dance floor. There was even a DJ. It was a bar for people who wanted to dance but didn’t like the club scene.

Y/N had moved back to the bar, pretending to fail at getting the bartender’s attention for another drink.

Her friends had caught the attention of a group of men. Y/N was immediately bored with their sad attempt at genuine conversation. But her friends remained amused and Y/N didn’t want to ruin their fun by failing to hide how annoyed and disinterested she was.

So she made a lazy excuse to her friends of getting another drink. The guys didn’t even acknowledge her departure, further proving their eyes were never set on her.

Despite being a woman standing alone and open to be hit on, she was left unbothered by any men. It was the typical scenario for her during a night out.

Y/N was lost in her thoughts, staring off into space.

She wondered how long she could hide there before her friends dragged her back.

The only thing that snapped her out of it was a bartender putting a martini in front of her, one she definitely hadn’t been able to order for herself yet.

Y/N blinked and looked up.

“From the gentleman at the other end of the bar,” the male bartender smiled at her.

Y/N blinked again and stood straighter.

What the hell? Only people in movies did this.

She looked down and her stomach dropped when she saw Bucky waiting for her gaze to land on him.

Y/N would’ve rolled her eyes.

But the way he was looking at her. It wasn’t like Bucky these days. No. It was how Bucky looked at her when they were together.

Y/N suddenly felt hot and nervous. When she reached for the martini, her hand was shaking. She tossed the whole thing back, wincing at the burn.

Then Bucky was in front of her.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asked him harshly.

Despite the music blasting, she knew his super-soldier hearing would understand her just fine.

“I came here for you,” he replied.

Y/N said nothing.

“I just got back from Wakanda,” he added.

“Oh, yeah?” She pretended like she hadn’t heard that he’d left.

“It was raining,” he said loud enough to be heard over the music.

She squinted. “What?”

“When you told me you loved me for the first time, it was raining.” He clarified. “You already knew I loved you. You knew I was just waiting for you to realize you loved me too.”

Y/N shifted her weight awkwardly, looking around to see if anyone was watching or listening to them. But no one cared.

She put it together as soon as Bucky had said he’d returned from Wakanda, that his memories had been restored.

But hearing him recite memories still jarred her.

“Do you remember what I told you when you said you were scared?” He asked.

“Bucky…” Y/N shook her head. Not because she didn’t know the answer, but because she didn’t want to talk about it. “I said I was always going to love you,” he answered for her.

“Why are you doing this?” She snapped.

“Because I was telling the truth the day. And any time after, where I told you otherwise, was the lie.” He waited. “Do you understand what I’m saying? I loved you. I still love you.”

Bucky stepped closer to her. “I lied because I would’ve rather pushed you away and kept you safe than be with you and risk your life.”

“You’re lying,” Y/N accused and shook her head.

“I’m not. And I know there’s a part of you that realizes that.” He reached forward, cupping her face and making her look at him. “Use it, Y/N. Use it on me. I’ll do anything to get you to understand that I made a mistake. I broke your heart and I broke my own…and it was all to keep you safe.”

He took in a deep breath.

Y/N tried to pull her face out of his grasp, but his hold was steady. Her eyes were watering as she stared into his sad, blue irises.

“Do it, Y/N.” He demanded.

“James…”

“I want you to,” he cut her off.

She swallowed and straightened her shoulders. “Tell me, James, how do you feel about me?”

The command of her powers enveloped him. He’d never felt the effects of it before. But they didn’t scare him, for she was asking for things that he wanted to tell her.

His hands dropped from her face and he stood still.

“I’m in love with you,” his words came out robotically. But his eyes only held truth. “I never stopped loving you. When I didn’t have my memories, my heart still found you. Even without our history, I still loved you.”

Tears slide down Y/N’s cheeks now.

The forced confession was finished and Bucky’s body relaxed. The effects of Y/N’s powers now faded. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I was an absolute fucking idiot. I shouldn’t have lied. I shouldn’t have broke your heart.” Then, to her shock, he started crying. “Tell me what I have to do for you to take me back. Because…Because I can’t live the rest of my life with you hating me.”

He was going to keep going, but Y/N cut him off with her lips crashing onto his.

Her senses could only register the feel of his lips.

Even the loud bar music faded away with the kiss.

Bucky didn’t let her go quickly. He kept kissing and kissing her. He had to make up for lost time and he had to make up for all the hurt he caused her. It would take more than a kiss, but it was a good place to start.

When they finally pulled away, Y/N stared into his eyes. “Let’s go home.”

She was his home. But he nodded his head anyways.

---

When they returned to the compound, the family dinner had turned into a family party. Everyone seemed to have drank their weight in alcohol in the short time Bucky had been gone. But they all cheered when they saw Y/N and Bucky walk in holding hands.

Sam pulled Bucky away, screaming something about shots.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at it.

Then she made eye contact with Steve, who was slowly making his way to her.

“Can we be friends again?” He asked her softly.

She gave him a sad look, finally acknowledging how much hurt she had caused Steve when all she had been trying to do was protect herself from Bucky.

Y/N nodded.

And then was caught off guard when the super soldier pulled her into a giant hug.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Steve.” She whispered into his shoulder.

“I know you didn’t, Y/N.”

They broke apart and took in the craziness that was their family.

Both of their gazes just happened to fall onto Bucky, who was laughing at something Sam was saying.

“Are you guys going to be OK?” Steve asked her.

“He did a lot of damage. There’s a lot to make up for. It’ll take time and it won’t be easy.” Then she looked at him. “But I hope one day, we’ll be more than OK.”

--------------

That’s the last part, everyone. But my ask box is open for questions. NOT requests. QUESTIONS.

Also, let me know what you thought!!!

#deja vu #deja vu part 3 #deja vu part iii #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky reader insert #bucky barnes one shot #bucky one shot #bucky angst #marvel fi #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x tall!reader #bucky barnes x tall!reader #bucky barnes x tall girl #tall female reader insert #bucky and tall reader

476 notes · View notes

fluffymcu · 4 years

Text

Letting Loose

Part ONE

This series is TICKLE related. Outfits that are linked here are purely for picturing the clothes, you don’t have to look like the model.

Series Summary: You’re the little sister of the one and only Captain America. You’re also the youngest girl on the team, so that automatically makes you the avengers’ little princess. And they spoil you as such. They have become your amazing family and you don’t know where you’d be without them. This series will show random adventures and fluffy events in the daily life of the reader and her family, along with an unexpected turn later on as you read.

A/N: I’m so excited to be writing this series! This is my first time writing one and I’m a bit nervous but I hope it all goes well. :) The first few chapters will be about random events, not really following a timeline until Chapter 9. Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3,500

-----

It was 1945, and you were only 5 years old. You and your brother Steve lived with your Aunt Kimmie until Steve left to join the army. When HYDRA got word of an enhancing super-serum, they planned to find out who they were experimenting on to try and steal the serum before it was injected. But it was too late. Captain Rogers was born, and their plan to steal the serum from Erskine had failed. Their only resort was to take out the serum out of Steve’s own blood. But they had to catch him first. After doing much research, they found you. Y/n Rogers. You were young, and important to the captain.

When you least expected it, HYDRA stormed into your apartment, taking the life of your Aunt, your mother figure, and taking you into their clutches. They had taken you to a facility that was dark, and scary. They threw you in a room and kept you there for days, only feeding you when you were about to pass out. Steve had stormed many HYDRA bases in search of you but never found you. In the final battle against Red Skull, he had not know that HYDRA had taken you on the plane to terrorize the world. You were being kept in on the the small cells that were installed in the plane. By the time Steve knew your were on board, it was too late. He had to make a decision.

“Stop!! Look around you!” Red Skull yelled, weak and defeated. Steve was on the pilot seat, calculating what to do. “This is the resolution to everything, Captain! If you stop this plane, everyone in here that is willing to do our good work will perish!” Steve payed no mind to him as he continued to type in new coordinates. Red Skull grunted as he stood up to give this a chance one more time, grabbing the tesseract in his hands. “DO YOU HEAR ME? EVERYONE HERE WILL DIE! EVEN THE GIRL!”

This made Steve pause and look at the villain with fear filled eyes. His sister was there. In the middle of all of this. Once Red Skull had his hands on the tesseract, he was banished to Vormir and never seen again. Steve turned back around to face front, with tears in his eyes. This was the most difficult decision he’s ever had to face. He had no problem giving his life to save the world from destruction. But his little 5 year old defenseless sister was on board. He knew what he had to do, but it hurt him deeply. With tears glazing his eyes, he aimed the plane downward, closing his eyes and mumbling out an apology before crashing the plane, freezing the both of you for over 65 years.

You woke up in your brothers arms, and you didn’t recognize anything of the outside. It was so bright, and your brother looked scared and alert, holding you protectively in his arms until a tall man approached you both and explained some things to your brother.

A lot had passed. Thankfully, you were very young when you were frozen, so it didn’t take you too much time to adjust to the modern world. You lived with Steve in an apartment for about a year and in 2012, after the battle of New York, you both moved into the Avengers tower.

That was 9 years ago.

Things were different now. Those memories were long forgotten and you moved on and focused on what you had now. The team had moves to the compound now, and your relationship with every one of them had grown so strong. They were your family and you were their Princess. And you had the best life you could have.

----

“Y/n, you’re gonna be late to school!” Tony sang, peeking his head through your bedroom door. You groaned and turned on your belly, deciding to ignore him. “Come on. I know you’re sleepy but you’ve got school.” He said, walking over to your bed and snatching the covers off of you.

“hey!” You whined. Tony sighed and shook his head at you.

“I can’t believe you don’t wanna go to school. You love school!” He teased. You rolled your eyes and sat up in your bed.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I wanna go to a place filled with obnoxious kids, degrading principals, and teachers who only care about a number on a paper?” You replied sarcastically. Tony helped you up off the bed and patted your back.

“That’s the spirit. Wanda made breakfast, come down in 10 minutes or you don’t eat.” He smirked. You playfully glared at him but complied nonetheless.

You walked over to your humongous closet and picked out an outfit. You threw on a thin white woven swear and some black jeans. You were a sucker for black jeans. You put on your white shoes and some diamond earrings before grabbing your bag and running downstairs.

Steve, Tony, Bucky, and Nat were up and eating breakfast in the kitchen. “Morning guys!” You greeted. Everyone turned towards you and smiled widely.

“Good morning!” They greeted back and you walked behind Bucky, where he was sitting on one of the stools and hopped up on the foot bars, reaching from behind and hugging him tightly. You had a special place for Bucky in your heart. Just for him. He was your brother’s best friend and you remembered when he would come over to your apartment and play with you, throwing you up in the air and playing with your dolls. And every time you would need a babysitter, he would always volunteer and you never wanted anyone else. You smiled as you nuzzled your face into his back. Bucky smiled, tracing patterns on your arms that were wrapped around him. “Alright, come eat, you leave for school in 10 minutes.” Steve said, being dramatic and pretending to rip you off Bucky’s back and leading you towards the table where a waffle on a plate was. You giggled and sat down to eat. The team continued on with their conversation until you finished eating and put the dishes in the sink.

“Thanks for breakfast!” You said with a satisfied smile on your face and made your way back upstairs to Peter’s room. You strolled in shamelessly but stopped in your tracts when you saw him passed out in bed. “Oh,,, Happy’s gonna be so mad.” You chuckled, making Peter stir awake.

“Huh? What happened?”

“You’re still in bed? Happy’s waiting out in the car. You got like, 2 minutes, dude.” You giggled as you saw Peter’s eyes widen in realization.

“Crap!!” He yelled, scrambling off his bed, only in his boxers and ran around his room, putting on random clothes. You laughed at his frantic state and shook your head slowly. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” He whined at you. You raised your eyebrows and scoffed.

“Me?! Why am I the one to blame? Tony said he came in here to wake you up but you must’ve fallen back asleep.” You shrugged.

“okay, uhh, just tell Happy I’ll be there in 2 minutes. 2 minutes, I promise.” He said, throwing on a shirt and looking for some khakis.

“Okay.” You shrugged, skipping down the stairs and outside after saying goodbye to the team. “Hey Happy. Peter said he’ll be here in 2 minutes.” You say as you enter the car. Happy nods with a sigh and about a minute later, Peter runs out of the front door and jumps in the car.

“I’m here!” He pants. You shake your head at him with a teasing grin and he rolls his eyes, poking your side. Happy leaves to go drop you both off at school. Once you get there, you hop out the car in a rush, since you’re about to be late. “Thanks, Happy!” You both say and run inside.

“See you after school.” Peter says while running next to you. You nod before both of you going your separate ways to your classes. You run into your classroom just as the bell rings, following your classmate inside. You sigh in relief and go to your seat, panting.

School went on like normal, you studied, had lunch, tolerated Jeremy, who was the kid who constantly teased you and pulled your hair, stole your notes until you ask him to give it back, and so on. Jeremy never really bullied you in the sense that he never said anything mean to you or made you feel bad, he just did things to annoy the crap out of you. You tried your best to avoid him but it seemed like he knew what you were trying to do and made it his personal mission to make himself known to you every chance he got.

The final bell rang to your relief, and you quickly packed your stuff, speed walking out of class to purposely escape from Jeremy. You smiled lightly as you were able to get out of there since he was still packing his stuff.

You walked to your locker, hoping Peter would meet you before Jeremy did so you could go home. You looked hopefully through the moving crowd and groaned as you saw Jeremy walking over from far away. You sighed but then perked up when Peter suddenly appeared from the other hallway, coming closer. You pumped your fist and waved at him to go faster. Peter looked surprised at your rushed behavior but sped up nonetheless.

“Hey, What’s up? Why were you... eager to see me?” He smirked, wigging his eyebrows. You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself. I wanted you to go faster because Jeremy was right behind you and he would’ve started annoying me again.” You chuckled. Peter hummed and nodded.

“Ah, the douche.” He sighed. You giggled and nodded your head, the both of you going outside to look for Happy’s car.

---

You walked through the entrance of the compound and greeted everyone in the living room. “Hey guys!” You and Peter greeted before jumping on the couch and settling between Pietro and Bucky. You all discussed what you wanted for dinner before Steve and Clint went to the gym and the rest of the team went to the kitchen to cook and others to their rooms.

You went to your room with Peter and started to put on your ballet outfit to stretch and practice. Peter sat at your desk to start on his homework. You were so glad your teachers spared your class and didn’t give you any homework. “What did Mr. Brandon give you today?” Yo asked, stretching, lifting your leg to rest it on the bar Tony installed on your wall and touching your head to your knee. Peter sighed, flipping through the pages.

“Basically the same thing as yesterday, gave us a 6 page packet and told us to write down why we think these theories are correct or incorrect.” You hummed and continued to stretch for a while before Peter started to collect his papers. “I’ll see you at dinner, Imma go to my room and start writing my essay that’s due in a couple of weeks.” He smiled. You nodded as he left and you decided to finish up and take a shower.

After you got dressed you laid down on your bed, sprawled out like a starfish and sighed. Right then, Steve came in your room with a smile and and sat next to you on your bed. “Hey, Princess. So, how was school?’’ Steve would come over to your room every few days just to have one on one time and talk about whatever.

You shrugged. “Ehh,” Steve chuckled and gently grabbed your arm, pulling you to sit up.

“Why do you say that?” You rolled your eyes at the mere thought of how annoyed you were at school.

“Jeremy. He’s so. annoying.” You ground out. Steve chuckled and nodded. You had told him about Jeremy before. But it seemed like you were ranting about him more and more often. “He’s always grabbing my notes, or pulling my hair to get my attention, or whispering at me during class. I try to ignore him but he just keeps doing it until I answer! And when I do, I GET IN TROUBLE!” You whined, throwing your hands in the air.

Steve smiled widely, chuckling at your frustration. “You know, have you ever thought that that’s why he bothers you so much? That he likes getting you angry? Because... maybe... he likes you?” He raised his eyebrow at you. You make a face of disgust, making him laugh. “I’m just saying, especially with teenage boys, their way of flirting with a girl is by picking on them. So maybe he has a crush on you!” He sang, bumping his arm against yours and poking your side.

“Eww, no! Steve stohop!” You whined, slapping at his hand but he only chuckled and started to run his fingers over your belly.

“You know I have a point.” He said cheekily, smiling when he hears your airy giggles. You push at his hands harshly and twist around.

“Stohohop! Steve I swehear to gohohod if you don’t stop,” You glared at him through your giggles. Steve gasped before tackling you and throwing you on your back.

“Did you just threaten me? huh?” He teased before scribbling his fingers around your torso with more pressure, causing you fall into a fit on hysterical giggles. “You had the audacity to threaten Captain America.” He shook his head, feigning disappointment before lifting his hand under your shirt to pinch at your bare belly. Just the absence of the thin fabric on your skin made the sensations so much worse as you shook your head side to side, letting out a steam of squeals and hiccups.

“IHIHIM SOHOHORRY!” You squealed when he came in contact with your ribs, digging in between them at a slow pace before quickening his fingers and tasing them into your ribs. You let out a scream and you arched your back, giving him the opportunity to blow another raspberry on your belly. You cackled and pulled at his hair to pull him away. He sat back with a wide smile and wiped the messy hair off your face. You were panting heavily and moving your hands over your torso, trying to rub off the lingering tingles off your body. “You’re a jerk.” You huffed after you caught your breath, gently kicking him in the stomach. Steve chuckled and helped you up.

“Come downstairs.” He suggested, walking down with you when you nodded. Everyone was downstairs in the kitchen and living room except Bucky and Peter. Bucky was taking a nap and Peter was still working on his essay.

You sat on the couch next to Nat and rested your head on her shoulder. She leaned onto you, doing the same. A few moments passed, and Tony and Clint were getting into a petty argument about the spaghetti sauce.

“It’s too thick. You need to water it down.”

“Who waters down sauce? You don’t do that. Look, contrary to popular belief, I know what I’m doing. And I’m definitely sure I know how to make spaghetti. Lay off.”

“I’m just saying! It’s already too thick! And the more you boil it, the thicker it’s gonna get, you need to dilute it!”

“You can’t dilute sauce!!”

Nat rolled her eyes with a groan and stood up. “I’m gonna go break them up, I guess.” She mumbled before going to the kitchen. You heard from your place on the couch, all of their yelling and Nat telling them to break it up. You smiled to yourself, shaking your head. The argument died down after a moment and the conversation went back to pleasant.

You were alone in the living room until Pietro zoomed in and sprawled himself on the other couch. You smiled when you saw him, taking note that he looked very tired. He didn’t look like a sleepy tired, more of a bored tired. You sat up a bit and rested your chin in your hands, looking at him for a bit. When he sensed your eyes on him, he looked at you a smiled. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Are you bored?” You asked him, smiling when he sighed loudly and laid back down.

“Yuppp.” He said, popping the ‘p’. You stood up, bouncing a bit on the balls of your feet.

“Do you... wanna have a pillow fight?” You smiled widely. Pietro perked up and returned the smile.

“Yes.” You giggled at his quick response and grabbed a throw pillow from the couch. You knew Pietro was very energetic and got bored easily, which made him really fun to play around with because he was always open to do anything if it meant he didn’t have to sit around and do nothing.

He stood up and grabbed a pillow before you both got in a stance. “COMMENCE!” You yelled, grabbing the attention on everyone else in the kitchen, making them smile fondly at the scene. Tony groaned. “Oh, great. They’re using the throw pillows. They are going to tear. those. up.” He sighed before putting the noodles in the pot. The team went back to their conversation while you and Pietro were battling with your pillows.

You were giggling a lot, making you lose your balance many times and made your aims more miscalculated. You stepped back to compose yourself again before aiming at his head. But Pietro used his speed to dodge it, appearing behind you and whacking you to the floor. No mercy. You grunted as you hit the floor but couldn’t help but laugh. “Hey! No powers. It’s not fair.” Pietro sighed and agreed before helping you up. He let you whack his head and the fight continued for a few more minutes.

Pietro currently had the upper hand as you were once again in a fit of uncontrollable giggles. He was whacking you over and over, making you cower away a bit, and bring your leg up to shield yourself. Pietro was also laughing, not having any mercy. “Give up, Printsessa.” He chuckled, whacking you again.

You laughed, trying to grab his pillow away from him but he pushed you onto the couch, stuffing his pillow in your face, pretending to suffocate you. The situation was hysterical to you and you fought against him to get the pillow off your face but your laughter was making you weaker by the second.

Pietro laughed and pulled the pillow off your face and started to tickle you around your sides. You shrieked and kicked out your legs to get get him off. “NOHOHOHO!” You squeaked, hugging your arms to yourself to block his hands. There wasn’t much you could do anymore because the pillow fight had taken a lot out of you already. Your laughter was desperate while he nuzzled his stubble in the crook of your neck. You squealed before falling into silent laughter, the feeling paralizing you and making you melt onto the couch. Pietro blew a final raspberry on your neck before sitting back and getting off of you.

The team was chuckling at your exhausted state and got up to sit at the dinner table. Pietro helped you up to sit down at the table. You took a seat next to Tony and the empty seat where Bucky was gonna sit. Tony called out for Peter to come down and Pete took a seat across the table form you. When Pepper served the plates, Bucky came down and sat next to you. When everyone was here, you all began eating and talking about the day and the plans some people had tomorrow.

After dinner, you and Peter helped wash the dishes and put them away. You and him were messing around, cracking jokes at each other and Peter was pretending to drop a glass over and over. “Peter stohohop. You’re gohohonna actually drop it!” You giggled, shaking your head as he continued, not even a second later, the glass fell and was just an inch off the floor before he caught it, biting his lip in shock. You gasped, expecting to hear a big shatter but sighed in relief. “See you goof? I told you were gonna drop it!” You whacked his shoulder with the drying towel.

“Ah, but I didn’t.” He raised his brow at you. You rolled your eyes and pointed over to the sink.

“Just finish with the dishes before you break something.” You scolded, smiling when he complied with a sigh. Not long after, you were done with the kitchen and you bid everyone goodnight with a hug or a kiss on the cheek. You made your way upstairs to your room, changing into some pajama shorts and a tank top.

You crawled into bed and pulled the covers up to your chin and scrolled through Instagram for a few minutes before turning off your lamp and going to sleep.

#ticklish!reader #tickle fight #avengers tickle #tickle fic #marvel tickle #tickle fluff #steve tickles reader #steve x reader #pietro tickles reader #pietro x reader #avengers #marvel #marvel mcu #bucky barnes #peter parker #peter x reader #captain america #peter parker x reader

192 notes · View notes

afaimsarrowverse · 3 years

Text

Arrowverse-Spin-Offs, we would like to see:

„Arrow“ and „Black Lightning“ are done, „Supergirl“ is in its last season and „The Flash“ and „Legends of Tomorrow“ will probably be over rather sooner than later. So it’s time to look at some potential Spin-Off-Ideas and the reasons why we won’t see any of those happening. But hey, I have been wrong before. The last time I did such a list, I wrote that Warner would never allow a „Superman“-Show to happen, because of them wanting him exclusive for the movies, even though at this point the Powers that Be were already working on getting „Superman & Lois“ on the way (because they have been working on that since around „Elseworlds), so maybe in two years one of those shows on this list will actually air at The CW:

Atoms: Since Ray has left „Legends“ I have been missing him, and since Crisis was the last we ever saw of Ryan Choi, yes, I still want „Atoms“, starring both Ray Palmer and Ryan Choi and their respectice wives, sciencing their way out of every problem and superheroing a little bit at the side. Yes, Fairy Godmother Nora would be a challenge to put into that concept, but if someone really wanted to find a way to integrate that storyline in the show, they could and if not, they could just do away with her powers off-screen. To bad Brandon Routh and Berlanti Productions did not part under the best terms and that the reason they got rid of him in the first place was that they couldn’t afford him any longer, so this one is not likely to ever happen. Also, I am not sure too many people are actually interested in a whole show about the Atom. Even if there a two of them.

Canaries: With „Green Arrow and the Canaries“ not picked up, they could return to this fan-favored concept: A solo show for Laurel and Dinah. Ditch the Future Crap or wrap it up in the Pilot, let them live in the present again and be a crime fighting double act. Or just set in the future, if you must, and let Dinah keep her club and just say good bye to the Queen-Kids. But since both actresses waited for a year to star in a show, that was not happening and said no to jobs because of that and the plotthreats of the „Green Arrow and the Canaries“ Backdoor-Pilot are still up in the air, it is very unlikely that we will get to see this one.

ThunderGrace: They should have aimed for that show instead of „Painkiller“, they might have had better chances to get picked up with it. Anyways, giving Anissa and her new wife Grace their own show, set in a different city of course, would go great with certain protions of the „Black Lightning“-Audience and might even attract new viewers. Having Jennifer and TC guest star regulary would also be great. Sadly this won’t happen of course, „Black Lightning“ already was very much Anissa’s story, giving her her own show would be like continuing „Black Lightning“ just without Jefferson, so it would basically be the same and therefore The CW would not go for it. Also, as long as „Batwoman“ is around, they would not do a second show with a lesbian Superhero Lead, who fights streetlevel, and since Season 2 also not one about a lesbian Superhero Lead, who is black on the top of that. So sadly, not happening.

Guardian and the Sentinel: „Supergirl“ is not getting a Spin-Off, but if we could choose, only Jessica Queller would go for the „Midvale“-One. Having Alex Danvers and Kelly Olsen als crime fighting partners in every sense on our screens would be great. Yes, the title might need some working on, but the concept would be great. They would probably operate outside of National City, there might even be a way to get the military angle in somehow. However as with „TunderGrace“, thanks to „Batwoman“ this one will never get made, because neither Alex nor Kelly have superpowers. Too bad.

Daughters of the Demon: I am very aware that I am the only one, who wants this Spin-Off. But I still want it. A show build around Thea Queen and the Al Ghul-Sisters (and Roy Harper of course) and their dealings with the League of Assassins in all forms and shapes. Katrina Law is of course not available right now, but the main reason we will never see a show around Thea, Nyssa, and Talia is that no one except me is really interested in it.

Dreamer (and Brainiac-5): This one has probably the best chance of ever happening from everything on this list, but given that it wasn‘t done anywhere outside this year’s Pride-Special, means that there probably are no actual plans for it. Anyways, a show about Dreamer with Brainy at her side, probably set in a new city rather than National City, would be great. Nia is still very new to the superhero-game, just finding her feet, and her romance with Brainy can go to many more places. But after the backlash in regards to „Batwoman“, The CW is probably hesitant to dare making a show about a transhero starring an actual transwoman. Nia might rather get moved to „Legends“ or „Superman & Lois“ or get to guest star on „The Flash“ next season than get her own show.

Next Gen: Mia Queen did not get her own show, when she was teamed up with the Canaries. However if you were to team her up with the Tonado-Twins and a Super-Spawn (not the Kent Twins though), she and Dig’s kids might just get another chance for their own show with William as their tech support. However the death of „Green Arrow and the Canaries“ makes that very unlikely, addionally we don’t know what will happen to Nora and Bart on „The Flash“ yet or where they will go with Kara or Clark for that matter in the future. And show set in the future would also cement that future, which would limit all the other shows somehow in storytelling terms, which might have been one of the reasons „Green Arrow and the Canaries“ was not picked up, so don’t hold you breath for that one.

Hall of Justice: Crisis established the League, but in a few months, only Sara, Barry and Clark will be left. But Nate is probably not the only one who applied for a seat. This one would of course have to take place between seasons or star everyone expect the heroes, who currently still have a show. I did name it „Hall of Justice“ on purpose, because there are many reasons, why this would never happen with the other name, but to be blunt, it would probably never happen under any name. However, this would be a good way to actually end the Arrowverse. To do a mini-series, where the League assembles after the last or most of the old shows are done. This could be one last Crossover with the potential of Follow Up- Features, if someone would ever want to make more of it.

An Anthology-Show:

Originally „Legends of Tomorrow“ was supposed to be an Anthology-Show, and while the decision to make an acutal show instead was the right one back then, the Arrowverse has grown since then, and the idea to do an Anthology-Show to keep it alive is actually a No-Brainer. Instead of whole Seasons, it would be better to go for Two-Parters, Three-Parters, Four Parters and even One Offs though, in order to get more stuff done in the span of a season. The main reason this will not happen is money of course - without standing sets this one would be hard to pull off, but I think it is necessary at this point. And they could even do only two arcs per season or only a hand full of episodes. This is where they could wrap up the open stortythreads from the failed Backdoor-Pilots – „Green Arrow and the Canaries“ and „Painkiller“ –and also where they could test out new Spin-Off Ideas, they could do my entire list here, plus more, like Slade and his sons, a story about the Hawk s, one about Kate Kane, or even Brandon Routh’s version of Superman etc. They could even go back and do in-between episodes about forgotten and dropped storylines, to which they never got around, like Roy’s death and resurrection or Rip’s founding of the Time Bureau. Additionally this is where they could do the Annual Crossover, they would not need to sacrifice episodes of the other shows, but instead air the Crossover as the Mid-Season Replacement in its own show, followed by some other storylines. But like I said, money is not on the side of this one.

Bonus: Show that will air on HBOmax instead and therefore can’t happen for the Arrowverse:

John Diggle, Space Cop:

This would be the Arrowverse Version of „Green Lantern“ and with a „Green Lantern“ Show heading to HBOmax it will of course never happen.

Hellblazer:

Not too long ago this was my top-bet for a new Arrowverse-Spin-Off, given that Matt Ryan’s „Constantine“ left a lot of unresolved storylines behind, but now that a new version of „Constantine“ with a younger John Constantine as the Main Protagonist in it, is heading to HBOmax, Matt Ryan’s version of the character may even be scrapped from the Arrowverse for good in the soon future. Let’s hope there is room for both versions of the character, but a Spin-Off for the Arrowverse is very much not happening any more.

Booster Gold (and Blue Beetle):

Wait, you might say, since when is Booster Gold getting his own series on HBOmax? Well, he was at least planned to get one. Alongside „Green Lantern“ another show was announced back then, remember?„Strange Adventures“ was supposed to feature Booster Gold. And while it has become kind of quite around this project, it was not officially scrapped. Given that it is very unlikely that we will ever get to see an Arrowverse-Version of Booster Gold instead, much less in his own show, and with „Blue Beetle“ getting his own show on HBOmax as well, Ted Kord will probably also never pop up in the Arrowverse, and Michael and Ted will never team up alonside the Legends. Too bad.

#Arrowverse #Potential Spin-Offs #Stuff we wanna see #Arrow #The Flash #Supergirl #Legends of Tomorrow #Black Lightning #Batwoman #Superman & Lois

6 notes · View notes

arshipweek · 3 years

Text

AR Ship Week 2021 Round-up

Alex Rider Ship Week 2021 is over and thank you everyone for participating! We had some fantastic fics and art and fanvids and I’m really happy to share them with you all.

Even though it’s over the AO3 collection will remain open and late entries are very much welcome.

Enjoy the fanworks and let me know if I’ve missed anything!

⛓️ POSSESSIVENESS ⛓️

A Caress of Steel (Chapter 1) by fredbasset When Alex is sent undercover to investigate a possible paedophile ring, MI6 assure him he will be extracted from the situation at the first hint of trouble. Yeah, right, they’ve said that before, so why the fuck does he keep believing them? Yassen/Alex

Run in the Dark by lanprey It couldn’t be, he thought. The experiments in Estrov had stripped away his designation. He had long concluded that he was no different from a beta; nothing in the past six years suggested otherwise. Yassen wasn’t completely truthful in the last pages of his diary. His story with John hadn’t ended in Paris. John/Yassen

When to Fold (Chapter 1) by BurntWhisper and Ireliss “I’m not yours, Yassen,” Alex had said the last time they had seen one another. “Do what you like. But if you’re not going to listen to me, you don’t get to dictate what I do.” In which, after eighteen months apart, Alex and Yassen are forced to confront what they really want. Yassen/Alex

✨ SUPERNATURAL ✨

A Beautiful Heartbreak by AmbiiUmm69 When Alex comes back from his last mission, something feels different. But surely it won't be that bad, right? Tom/Alex

Tethered (Chapter 1) by fredbasset And this is why I sojourn here, / Alone and palely loitering, / Though the sedge is withered from the lake, / And no birds sing. La Belle Dame sans Merci by John Keats. Yassen/Alex

The Cat That Got the Cream by Rirren Alex didn't mean to trigger a strange cat's heat. Yassen/Alex

🏚️ CAPTIVITY 🏚️

A Caress of Steel (Chapter 2) by fredbasset When Alex is sent undercover to investigate a possible paedophile ring, MI6 assure him he will be extracted from the situation at the first hint of trouble. Yeah, right, they’ve said that before, so why the fuck does he keep believing them? Yassen/Alex

When to Fold (Chapter 2) by BurntWhisper and Ireliss “I’m not yours, Yassen,” Alex had said the last time they had seen one another. “Do what you like. But if you’re not going to listen to me, you don’t get to dictate what I do.” In which, after eighteen months apart, Alex and Yassen are forced to confront what they really want. Yassen/Alex

The Dacha - An Interlude by Anonymous Yassen spent four years living in servitude at Vladimir Sharkovsky's dacha outside Moscow. With no one looking for him, there was no limit to the depravity the Sharkovskys subjected him to. Every day was seemingly worse than the last. Yassen/Sharkovsky

All You Have is Your Fire by MS_Mayhem After Alex had been missing for three years, Yassen is forced to go to the MI6 for help in finding his love, but is he too late? Yassen/Alex

Art by MS_Mayhem Art for 'All You Have is Your Fire. Yassen/Alex

🏡 DOMESTICITY🏡

The Best of Times is Now by OlyaNeverWrites John Rider's extraction in Mdina goes off without a hitch, and several months later, Hunter is dead and John, Helen, and Alex Rider make a new life for themselves in a peaceful village in the South of France. One afternoon, an unexpected guest shows up on their doorstep. John/Helen

Chilli and Chilling by fredbasset Chilli and chilling. And a shag in the shower. Tom/Alex

Some Kind of Sin by lanprey “This is not a marriage! This is the world’s worst hangover!” – Friends, The One After Vegas Yassen/Alex

Tethered (Chapter 2) by fredbasset And this is why I sojourn here, / Alone and palely loitering, / Though the sedge is withered from the lake, / And no birds sing. La Belle Dame sans Merci by John Keats. Yassen/Alex

Bad Days, Better Nights by Suzie_Shooter Epilogue to Dead Man Walking set a short time later - two separate pieces of domestic fluff written to follow-on, but can be read as a stand-alone. Yassen/Alex

What time is it? Summertime (Chapter 1) by moo_said_the_cow Yassen and John have been busy for a while now. With summer looming, John puts his foot down and insists they be given a few months off assassinating for some much needed rest and relaxation. John/Yassen

🔪 DANGER KINKS 🔪

A Caress of Steel (Chapter 3) by fredbasset When Alex is sent undercover to investigate a possible paedophile ring, MI6 assure him he will be extracted from the situation at the first hint of trouble. Yeah, right, they’ve said that before, so why the fuck does he keep believing them? Yassen/Alex

When to Fold (Chapter 3) by BurntWhisper and Ireliss “I’m not yours, Yassen,” Alex had said the last time they had seen one another. “Do what you like. But if you’re not going to listen to me, you don’t get to dictate what I do.” In which, after eighteen months apart, Alex and Yassen are forced to confront what they really want. Yassen/Alex

🚗 ROAD TRIP 🚗

Road Trip Art (AO3 link) by MS_Mayhem Alex/Yassen

I Spy by fredbasset When a job takes an unexpected turn, Ian has to go on a road trip with a very irritating prisoner. Ian/Yassen

🙅 NONCON/DUBCON 🙅

A Caress of Steel (Chapter 4) by fredbasset When Alex is sent undercover to investigate a possible paedophile ring, MI6 assure him he will be extracted from the situation at the first hint of trouble. Yeah, right, they’ve said that before, so why the fuck does he keep believing them? Yassen/Alex

Open Hand or Closed Fist would Be Fine by MS_Mayhem For AR Ship Week, Day 4: Non Con. Yassen/Alex

Alex art by MS_Mayhem Art for fic 'Open Hand or Closed Fist would Be Fine'. Yassen/Alex

What time is it? Summertime (Chapter 2) by moo_said_the_cow Yassen and John have been busy for a while now. With summer looming, John puts his foot down and insists they be given a few months off assassinating for some much needed rest and relaxation. John/Yassen

A Consummate Professional by Rirren Cray has an altogether more humiliating idea to shut Alex up. Yassen/Alex

💏 INTIMACY 💏

When to Fold (Chapter 4) by BurntWhisper and Ireliss “I’m not yours, Yassen,” Alex had said the last time they had seen one another. “Do what you like. But if you’re not going to listen to me, you don’t get to dictate what I do.” In which, after eighteen months apart, Alex and Yassen are forced to confront what they really want. Yassen/Alex

Coins in the Fountain by fredbasset Ten years ago, Monica Peretti employed a contract killer to end her life. The assassin refused and returned the fee (minus his expenses, naturally). Every year, she remembers. Every year, she hopes. Yassen/Monica Peretti

Cold by irlnewt This takes place during Nightshade, after they escaped and they’re in the cinema together for the night. Alex/Freddy Gray

Hold Me Tight, Hold Me Close by qwerkywriter After Alex's Point Blanc mission, Tom makes an attempt to recalibrate their friendship via hugs. or Alex is a sad boi who needs a hug. Tom/Alex

🕵️ MISSIONS 🕵️

A Caress of Steel (Chapter 5) by fredbasset When Alex is sent undercover to investigate a possible paedophile ring, MI6 assure him he will be extracted from the situation at the first hint of trouble. Yeah, right, they’ve said that before, so why the fuck does he keep believing them? Yassen/Alex

When to Fold (Chapter 5) by BurntWhisper and Ireliss “I’m not yours, Yassen,” Alex had said the last time they had seen one another. “Do what you like. But if you’re not going to listen to me, you don’t get to dictate what I do.” In which, after eighteen months apart, Alex and Yassen are forced to confront what they really want. Yassen/Alex

Organ Harvesting 2: Electric Boogaloo by MS_Mayhem It was supposed to be a simple job. They were sent to retrieve some data regarding a large-scale drug operation, but as usual when Alex Rider was involved, things had gotten more complicated. Yassen/Alex

Sleeping with the Enemy by Suzie_Shooter Alex has been working for MI6 for five years when they give him his most unexpected task yet – seduce Yassen Gregorovich. It’s meant to be a one-off for the purposes of attaching a bio-tracker, but somehow both of them keep coming back for more. Which wasn’t quite what MI6 had in mind. Yassen/Alex

Art by nightshade2412 TV!verse Snake/Eagle for Alex Rider Ship Week prompt “missions”. Snake/Eagle

🤸 ROLE REVERSAL 🤸

Between a Rock and a Hard Place by Suzie_Shooter Role reversal AU. The destruction of Estrov never happened and Yassen grew up to become a helicopter pilot like he always wanted. Alex was still orphaned as a baby, but was adopted by Ash rather than Ian and grew up as Scorpia’s golden boy. But now Scorpia are in need of a pilot, and two worlds are about to collide after all... Yassen/Alex

Planning and Preparation by fredbasset When Alex goes undercover at a banking and investment conference, no one (apart from Yvette in Accounts) expects the dry cleaning bills to be so high. Yassen/Alex

Power Play by Suzie_Shooter Written for the kinkmeme prompt: “The last time Yassen saw Alex he was 14 and smol. Now, after a few years away Yassen sees 18/19yo post-pubescent Alex for the first time and is shocked to find Alex is 6'4" and built like the proverbial brick outhouse. And ofc he finds it really hot that Alex can loom over him and manhandle him a bit. Anything else goes, just big focus on the fact post-growth spurt Alex is bigger and bulkier than Yassen by a considerable margin. Bottom!Yassen would be blessed.” Yassen/Alex

🧪 DISTORTED PERCEPTIONS 🧪

A Caress of Steel (Chapter 6) by fredbasset When Alex is sent undercover to investigate a possible paedophile ring, MI6 assure him he will be extracted from the situation at the first hint of trouble. Yeah, right, they’ve said that before, so why the fuck does he keep believing them? Yassen/Alex

Art by nightshade2412 This is a Devil!verse pairing that came up a couple years ago and I’ve been wanting to create for it ever since, so this is well overdue. Jack/Jet

🥰 PRAISE KINK 🥰

If Wishes Were Horses by fredbasset There are some lines John Rider is determined not to cross, but when working deep cover, sometimes such lines are negotiable. John/Yassen

🔒 SECRETS 🔒

A Caress of Steel (Chapter 7) by fredbasset When Alex is sent undercover to investigate a possible paedophile ring, MI6 assure him he will be extracted from the situation at the first hint of trouble. Yeah, right, they’ve said that before, so why the fuck does he keep believing them? Yassen/Alex

To the Sea for Feelings Deep Blue / Somewhere Between Psychotic and Iconic by lanluto Fan Video with creator commentary: John and Helen, Alex Rider's parents, meet at Oxford and fall in love, but John's secret undercover work with MI6 causes a lot of upheaval in their relationship. John has infiltrated the terrorist organization Scorpia as an assassin-for-hire with callsign “Hunter”. He risks blowing his cover to meet Helen at Sacré-Coeur in Paris. John/Helen

🌌 ALTERNATE UNIVERSE 🌌

Beyond the Fragments by OlyaNeverWrites “You let me think she died... There are a million fucking questions with answers I’ll never get, but there was one person who might have a few of them. And you kept that from me. You owed me the truth about this. You owed me.” “We were trying to protect you…” “Mrs. Jones, kindly get fucked. Alex Rider never wanted to be a spy. She certainly never expected to strike up a friendship with the terrifying assassin who killed him. So why do she and Yasha Grigoryeva keep running into each other? And why does Alex never do the smart thing and run screaming into the hills whenever she sees her? Yassen/Alex

#alex rider #ARshipweek #yalex #tomlex #.....#mod posts

18 notes · View notes