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justalost4girl · 3 years

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" If anything can go wrong, it will."

Good night!! (Here it's still night :p )

A few weeks ago I said I would do a oneshot Lorraine Broughton x F! Reader, but it got too big so I decided to follow the initial idea and turn it into a mini series. I have two chapters written and I'm going to post them here and in Ao3, I think there will be 3 or 4 chapters in total, but I'm not sure yet.

English is not my first language, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!!

warnings: mention of violence, R cursing, forgery of documents (?)

Words: 4573

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1989

Berlin, East Side

You feel in your bones, when you wake up, the consequences of last night and think that the famous Murphy's Law decided to test you. On this side of the wall few things go right, but having an order in your head two days after joining STASI's wanted list proves that nothing is so bad it can't get any worse. Courtesy of a dumb customer who messed with the wrong people and thought revealing where you find your customers would be enough information to escape death. The Local Gang (or Angels, as they call themselves) loves to eliminate competition from the market.

Now he's dead and you have to deal with the STASI AND the Local Gang (you refuse to call them Angels).

The local fucking gang that sent a team of idiots to break into your favorite bar and made you run out the back door before meeting a customer who was going to pay well. The local fucking gang who must be pissed that you shot the six dumbest members you've ever had to face in your life. No really fatal shots, but of course that won't matter as they do business with the KGB.

Sometimes you want to ignore the rules you've made for yourself, especially "never kill someone unless it's in defense of yourself or someone you love", but you think killing six agents who don't have the ability to set up an ambush of success would be a great waste of bullets. Now you know you're going to have to leave town soon and you have no idea how to break the news to your brother/partner, how do you honorably abandon a war before it's over?

Damn Murphy's Law

You know you need to sort this out, but you refuse to stay in bed crying over what's already written and decide to leave the wonderful Egyptian linen sheets you got from your favorite client last month to face the world and it's impossible to face the world without a good amount of coffee. After a quick shower with a cup of Blue Mountain in hand, your newest addiction, you sit in a robe in a nice armchair, look out the window at dying Berlin and thank heaven for the comfortable life you've earned by working with one of the greatest smugglers on this side of the wall, perhaps from all over Germany. Some desperate customers offer you valuable items from them in exchange for passports and unlike your idiot “brother”, you don't have a rule about only receiving cash. Almost everything here comes from gifts, from the sofa, pictures, bags, clothes and even some books on your shelf. You don't even remember buying that cup, or the coffee set, for gods' sake.

If he saw you now he'd complain about being soft with customers and say something about how items aren't a bargaining chip in the real world, you'd get into a tiresome discussion about enjoying the finer things in life and how bills don't compare in the importance of yours. silver chain with moon pendant that was once an amulet for more than three generations for a French family.

At the end of the day, Merkel has a large information network and an office that takes up half the block, where she keeps as much money as she has secrets, and you have a house decorated by other people where each object symbolizes someone you've helped.

Four walls don't make a house

The thought takes away some of the almost peace you feel and you decide to finish your coffee before it gets cold.

After a quick glance at the calendar you remember about the march that will take place in Alexanderplatz square and decide to go scream for Germany one last time, hopefully you'll be able to hide long enough to see the fall of the damn wall that divides this country. It's not your country, not really, you don't even like to remember how you got here, but the experiences you gained wouldn't be exchanged for anything, not even for an original Van Gogh. Also, Merkel asked you to go and bring a black umbrella, the reason was not explained and you didn't feel like asking, sometimes you think Gordon Merkel is not his name, but how to judge the man who is your only family in this end of the world? You smile when you remember that he shouldn't have an umbrella with a story as cool as his and decide to piss him off for it.

Your phone rings, and you notice you've lost track of time. Merkel was helping a blonde woman named L, he didn't give you more details other than a few stories about how she was a perfect and dangerous assassin that you should keep your distance, as few people know how to deal with her. You thought he overreacted, but you had to take over some business from him while she was in town. She seemed important considering the way he told you about her and you knew better than to deny help to the person who always supported you and declared himself a brother, you trusted him because not even the best agent in the world could fake so much sincerity and affection in claiming this title for himself.

You reach out, pick up the phone, and decide to answer it. “Hey little sister, how are you out there? I called to say that everything is fine for dinner today, but there was a mishap and the wine ran out, bring the best Bordeaux you have, I'll return the courtesy as soon as possible." A code, of course.

He needs your services ASAP. Wine is a passport, Bordeaux means two elements, courtesy involves a child.

You can combine business with pleasure "Hi brother. I'm looking forward to today, I'll take the best wine I have, don't worry. I already know how you can thank me. I need to clean the house and go to the office first, but I'll be there on time. wait for me." you say in a voice that oozes normalcy, you never know when someone's listening on the phone especially now that you're a fugitive, disgraced customer. Your body sinks into the armchair noticing the oncoming cloud of worry

Merkel now knows you need his help, as cleaning the house means getting away and going to the office shows you're in a hurry.

"Alright, do you want me to send the driver?" He asks like he's not freaking out and offering the bloody job of one of his mercenaries

“No, bro, thanks, I know the way.” You say as if you really have an escape plan besides getting a fake passport, emergency backpack and all the money you can find.

“See you later, don't forget the wine. Are you sure you don't want the driver?" You wonder if he has forgotten that knowing the way literally means everything is fine

“Relax, see you later” It takes a few seconds for him to hang up and you can hear his sigh.

He will be SO pissed.

You put the phone down as you get up to gather the passport forgery materials and put them in a briefcase. Your cookbook is already there along with some banknotes from different countries. As you pick up the black backpack of standard clothes and accessories that always waited for you in the corner of the door, you decide to wear the first jacket you bought, the dark blue jeans, the combat boots you got from a skinhead, the wristwatch you bought. you got for your brother's birthday, thick leather gloves and a thin white shirt that matches the rest of your outfit. After all, if you can die when you open the door, then die well dressed. Be sure to keep the Colt 1911 around your waist and the Russian dagger around your ankle, after yesterday you never know, Your pocket watch with the coat of arms of the Brazilian imperial family indicates that 15 minutes have passed since Merkel's phone call

You take one last look at the house you've been so proud of in recent years, snap a photo with the Polaroid you've won, and, with a bittersweet smile, close the door. One day when the wall comes down, the government changes and your face is forgotten, you can come back here, until then you will have to make do with the photo album you keep in your backpack and this photo.

Putting on your sunglasses, you arrive on the street and decide to take a taxi on the other corner, make sure you look around before leaving your home, no one knows your address, but you can't be sure the local gang is so stupid to the point of not following you after last night.

Getting a taxi was relatively easy. Neil, the driver, thanks to the boots, mistook you for a revolutionary and talked for 10 minutes about how he hoped he could take down the wall with his bare hands, you thought it was cool, but as you passed the big river that was just a few blocks away from the your brother's office, you couldn't hear a word from him.

A sign signaling that the river was closed to visitors made your eyes fill with tears. You used to go there when the day was bad, spread a blanket in a corner and watch the stars, or just laugh at the distinct reflection the water made of the moon and stars. Merkel accompanied you on anniversaries, justifying them as bonding experiences. After some freaks started swimming in the river and executions increased, STASI took over and you replaced the dark water for the restaurant's bright lights. But seeing it tightly closed gave him a feeling of anguish and rancor. You would silently curse the wall builders for the rest of the trip.

Neil seemed to notice but didn't comment on it, you thanked him, wiped your tears and left a good tip as you descended a block away from your final destination. This time you didn't need to look around because even though Merkel was super busy, he made sure to leave some security close to where your landing place was.

A tall man dressed in a red T-shirt approached you and hugged you as if he hadn't seen you in a long time. You've known him since the beginning of last year, when he arrived at Merkel's office begging for a job, and from the first moment the way he turned grief over his brother's death into a thirst for revolution made you admire the young man. The two of you walked through the great gate hand in hand as you asked about his life with genuine interest, and Klaus increasingly believed in Merkel's theory about you having such a pure heart that you didn't care about motivation or the number of lives they took, your explanation of the judgment not being your responsibility, crossed the man's head before he escorted you to the main office.

You thanked him with a smile, opened the door and stood in front of the table in the windowless room, where your brother was already waiting for you.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? I was about to send J to get you, please tell me what happened"—he said hurriedly as he got up and pointed at the couch for you to sit on. J was one of the most dangerous women in the building and you were grateful for not wasting her time.

Putting your backpack and umbrella aside, you answered:

"I'll explain later, little brother, now let me help you. You need passports urgently, don't you?" Yes, you were stalling and postponing the conversation. He'd call you an idiot for going out on the street right after you got on the wanted list, and he'd feel guilty when he found out why you didn't tell him. Merkel wasn't going to understand that her fear of failing him was no one's fault but yourself.

Your sentence seemed to give him some responsibility back, but still, as he held out a glass of water for you, his eyes met yours with a glint that warned that this conversation was far from over.

"Yeah, I really do, but don't think I'm going to forget about it. Let's talk when this is all over. Even if it's the last thing I do today."

You accepted the glass with a bit of trepidation and stood up towards the large center table while opening the briefcase with the supplies you were going to need, if Merkel noticed the bills he didn't say anything. Once at the table, you made two passports for mother and daughter in record time. According to the clock, 10 minutes passed, faster than a car, this deserves a celebration. It would have been six if Merkel hadn't been so curious to make you waste time pulling your watch out of your pocket just for him to analyze.

Everything was going well and there was only one last detail for mother and daughter to be taken by one Percival to the other side of the wall. Percival, according to Merkel, was strange and fickle. Unreliable and extremely dangerous, you should also keep your distance from him, as this man had crucial contacts on both sides of the wall.

"He must have fewer contacts than you", you would answer

If a loud noise didn't break the silence

The annoying noise of the door creaking made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you almost missed the last signature, it made your body vibrate with irritation and your eyes follow to the offensive source of the sound. A tall man with short hair and blue eyes was holding the doorknob with a military posture and before you could release your anger and explain something about how people shouldn't be violent inside Merkel's office you noticed he was accompanied by a woman.

AND WHAT A WOMAN!

Your eyes connected to a pair of fierce, intent green eyes, surrounded by a pale skin tone and hair so blond it looked like snow. The barely perceptible frown showed she was surprised to find someone other than Merkel there, yet she looked ready for a battle. You looked into her eyes again and nodded in acknowledgment, this must be L, the woman he was talking about.

She looked at you suspiciously, but also as if she could see into your soul, and what must have been frightening, you found endearing. A few stories of murders orchestrated by her crossed your mind, but all you could imagine is how beautiful she must be when she's mad.

They say green eyes darken when we're high on adrenaline, does that happen to her?

Her analysis of the intriguing blonde ends when she notices that the man accompanying her has raised his voice and from his furious expression, it's not the first time he's repeated the question. You interrupt him before you hear him and make sure to direct the ghost of anger before him:

"Have you lost your mind? Who walks into the office without knocking? Surely you should be here asking about passports, but if it weren't for my experience and steady hands, they would be in the trash by now. Learn to be civilized. You're under two paws not four, so act human and not animal" you say in an explosive but articulate tone to make sure he understands what you say. Sometimes when you speak fast, you are betrayed by faulty diction. Not today. Today you want this man to feel every fiber of irritation that went through his body.

Hearing Merkel holding a nervous laugh, you try to relax, but judging by the cold, almost murderous look of the man in the doorway, you've definitely gotten yourself in trouble. Looking at the organized clothes, you notice it's an old police uniform, probably taken by your brother, and unless Merkel has hired new employees, you've never seen it around here. His eyes snap back to his and something inside you warns that this must be Percival. He probably wants to kill you.

Damn Murphy's Law

A brief silence settles in the room and you shake off the fear and turn away, refusing to play the glaring game with a man who almost spoils your art. On other days you might look at him at a party, but today you want to make him swallow the ink on the stamp in his hands and invite the blonde to dinner

And it's her voice that breaks the silence.

You're flipping through the two passports for failures when she says

"Sorry, miss. My friend is an unprecedented idiot. Shall I close the door and knock again? Perhaps your highness too--"

You turn her body towards her when you hear the slightest hint of irony in her tone and interrupt her with a fake smile as you look into her eyes.

"It's not necessary, I accept your apology, Miss. I always said that Merkel should have someone armed at the door to remind everyone of the need to knock on the door. Anyone who didn't knock would lose his mind as the law of my reign says. Perhaps I should start. for him, since the top head is the last thing he wears lately" you joke look at Merkel who doesn't seem offended by the statement, shrugging you look at those blue eyes again and say "the passports are ready. Let's get out of here."

You close the passports, reach for your backpack and umbrella and start moving towards the door, both agents let you lead the way and judging by the blonde's expression, she's not used to being interrupted, nor is she used to seeing someone talking like that with Merkel, but today it was acceptable. You really think she's adorable, but you know better than to let someone make fun of you, especially in front of your brother who wouldn't let you forget about it. Either she doesn't care, or she's a great actress. Anyway, that idiot is still by her side and you refuse to be the reason for his possible laugh.

Her friend probably didn't have the same acting classes and his resemblance to the local gang members, like he's going to kill you in the blink of an eye in a cowardly way, is almost frightening. If Merkel hadn't said L is a woman, you'd be scared. It makes you shiver a little and look for Merkel, but he's not following you. Looking over his shoulder you see him putting a few more piles of dollars and euros into your briefcase. With a snap of your fingers you get his attention and before you walk out the door, you hear the briefcase click closing.

Once out of the room, you look around and realize that nothing has really changed, all faces are familiar, except for three people: a couple talking to a child. After a brief analysis you find yourself facing the passport clients, mother and daughter. The man doesn't look older than 60 and has kind eyes, almost as if he doesn't live on this side of the wall.

They don't seem to notice you

Your observation is interrupted by Merkel's loud, proud voice, right behind you. Here it comes

"This is Elizabeth Loyd and Percival, two trusted clients. Elizabeth and Percival, this is my little sister, she will be on the march today, if you need anything in the future you can talk to her."

Hearing her name, you notice that Merkel really wasn't creative at all. Who would use the initial letter of a surname as a symbol? Anyone who heard the stories about L and met a loyde who knows a Merkel would make the connection. As you turn around, you swallow your nervousness and try to put on your best smile as you say your name to them. The blonde woman who finally has a name, Elizabeth, leans closer, her eyes never leaving yours, and you wonder if she can feel the jumble of emotions that is unraveling inside you.

She smiles a smile that makes you sure she does and reaches out and greets you with a firm grip, if she noticed the sweat on your hands, she didn't let on. She also looks a little more comfortable.

Maybe because she noticed you said her real name, idiot.

You hate yourself for one second and the next you want to be without gloves because it feels soft and warm.

The man, Percival, comes next and looks at you suspiciously and the smile fades from your face, you wonder if no one else can smell the strong smell he gives off, a smell of cheap whiskey and arrogance. Still, he holds out his hand and this time you thank the gods for the gloves. Make sure you don't bow your head or fail in your posture. He still looks at you like you killed his son. Useless even to pretend, for God's sake.

Merkel watches the exchange from afar and nods to Elizabeth, she responds and Percival walks away looking uneasy. You look around uncomprehendingly, feel a little left out, and wonder which computer must have Tetris installed.

You would kill for a distraction right now.

Going out on the street in a crowded march while being chased by two groups still makes you sick.

Your brother approaches and extends his hands around you. You've missed him for the past few weeks. He still wears the perfume you gave him for his birthday and it makes you sink deeper into the hug. You know he's going to be mad when he finds out what happened so you enjoy as much affection as you can

"Little sister, in addition to our conversation I need to tell you something" his voice is low in tone and you doubt you would understand the words if you weren't so close to him "but I can't do that until the march is over. Meet me at usual table at the restaurant where we celebrate our achievements, It's very important"

His even low voice is charged with strong emotion and you are genuinely worried, Merkel has never been like this before.

"I'll do it, brother, I promise. Whatever it is, we can work it out together" you say with all the certainty you can muster in your voice, because you need him to understand that this is true.

You feel eyes on you and as you look up you notice that Elizabeth keeps an eye on your exchange with Merkel while talking to the little girl's father, from the distance she probably can't understand anything and you don't know if she celebrates or cares with so much attention received. A little further away is a Percival who pretends to be busy with the coat he's wearing. He also pays attention to your exchange, but his talent for discretion is as effective as his ability to open doors.

Your eyes return to the concentrated blue eyes that are in front of you and Merkel speaks in an almost inaudible way:

"When I whistle, I need you to raise your open umbrella and stay alert. The three people we're going to cross are very important, nothing can go wrong. But if it does, I'll be at the restaurant, whatever happens find me there."

Noticing the proximity of Percival and Elizabeth, you place your hand on your brother's shoulder and smile as you speak a little louder:

"Don't worry man, it's always a pleasure to help you. I'll leave my briefcase here, then meet you to get it. Good march."

Merkel shows that she understands his strange move and smiles, you greet some friends of his that you haven't seen in a while and as you head towards the exit, you meet a pair of deep green eyes. Elizabeth is gleaming in the cold lights that are refracted by the mosaic of the gate, she looks into your eyes, ever alert, looks at the object in your hands and nods her head with a half smile, do you think the guard's idea black rain was hers.

As you wave back, you can feel that a pair of eyes haven't left your back since the moment of your brother's embrace, as the old man is saying goodbye to the family, you know who they belong to and decide not to look for them. If the STASI, KGB or local gang find you, he doesn't own the pair of eyes you want to remember before you die.

Taking a deep breath, you walk through the gate and blend into the crowd.

..........................................................................................................................

After leaving Merkel's office block, you take a hat out of your backpack and wear your sunglasses as you look around, not that a local gang member is here but because if he sees you in disguise he will ask a series of questions and he has enough problems already, plus STASI must be monitoring this area and the last thing you want is to be arrested. You decide to tuck your coat into your backpack to change your look, and while internally debating your ability to ignore the cold, your eyes catch the almost snowy blond hair in the crowd.

This signals that they are already on the march and you decide to get a little closer to them, but make sure you do this without drawing attention to yourself since the nasty man is still there. Elizabeth is on your diagonal absorbing all the extraneous details that might be a possible threat, she seems so focused on the job of passing the owner's gentle eyes in a safe way that it makes you wonder how important he is and if she's noticed you.

A few meters later a familiar noise floats through the march and you open the umbrella almost instantly, as do other protesters.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Percival taking the man's family across and sometime later Elizabeth does the same. You notice that her posture has changed and when she decides to stop for a better look, the crowd drags her and you can no longer locate her.

Her feet continue forward and as some signs are raised by the protesters, you try to find your brother. Unsuccessfully. You decide to trust their ability and hope that you can meet him again at the restaurant.

You also want Elizabeth to be okay.

Continuing on the march, after two or three long blocks you notice the familiar silhouette of one of the STASI bosses, he is watching the crowd as if looking for someone, but he doesn't seem to notice you. You notice observers on top of buildings and decide to leave the streets. Whether it's the Local Gang, KGB or STASI itself you don't know and decide you don't want to know.

Your brain tries to design routes to escape and your body mimics the movements of the closest protesters so as not to draw attention to you, but when some agents in black point in your direction and make space in the crowd, you run between people to seek shelter in somewhere you know and at every step you are sure that the day will be worse than you thought.

Damn Murphy's Law

#lorraine broughton x reader #lorraine broughton #atomic blonde #charlize theron

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fallen-gravity · 3 years

Text

Intellectual Adequacy

Stan hates to start any unnecessary conflict, especially when there’s a very real chance that Ford will be moving to California next year, but he knows deep down that if they don’t talk about this now then he’ll never have the courage to bring it up again.

“Wait,” Stan shouts to Ford, and he stops dead in his tracks.

Notes: In which one little plot bunny that was preventing me from getting any work done becomes its own rabbit hole.

I genuinely cannot believe that in the six-seven years I've been in this fandom, I've never tried my hand at the fix-it-fic where Stan and Ford just talk it out as teenagers, just like they should've in canon. I've seen a lot of different approaches, but I feel like I've yet to see one that tackles it from the perspective of Stan's own battle with his self-worth, rather than the actions he or Ford have already taken.

AO3

Stan hates the principal’s office more than anywhere else in the world.

He swears, he’s called down every other week for something that’s not even his fault. He punched Crampelter in the nose for harassing some poor freshman? Principal’s office. He talks back to a teacher calling his classmate stupid for forgetting an “obvious” geometry equation? Principal’s office. He accidentally drops his pencil during an exam and bends over to pick it up? He must be cheating. Principal’s office.

If you asked him, the whole idea of sending kids to the principal’s office is pointless to begin with. Oh, you did something bad, and now we’re gonna make the big man in charge tell your mommy and daddy? How old do these people think they are?

Stan wishes he could say that this time is okay because they’re not even talking to him. They’re talking up a storm to Ford in there about another college scholarship and all the reasons why he and he alone would be the perfect candidate for some random school all the way out in California

But it’s not okay, because the longer Stan sits in the dumb waiting room the more he’s starting to feel like chopped liver. They’ve been in there for at least five minutes with no sign of stopping anytime soon, but every time Stan asks the secretary if he can just go back to class already she dismisses him with a wave of her hand and it’ll be your turn soon, sit back down.

He’s thinking of just sneaking out the next time the secretary buries her nose back into her magazine. It’s simple: just wait for her to pull it out from her desk, sneak by as quick as he can, and slip out the door and back to class before she can even notice he’s gone.

He stands from his chair, pretending to stretch and preparing to execute, but freezes solid when he hears his name being spoken from within the principal’s office.

“…What about our little free spirit Stanley?”

It’s Ma, and whatever it is they’re talking about in there, she isn’t happy about it. Frowning, Stan glances over at the secretary to make sure that she isn’t staring at him, and presses his ear to the office door to listen to their conversation more carefully.

The principal laughs in response. “That clown? At this rate he’ll be lucky if he graduates high school”

Stan’s taken aback by the harsh choice of words, but if he knows Ford, then he won’t just sit there and let the principal talk about him like that. He presses his ear further into the door, waiting for Ford to interrupt the principal’s rambling about how he’s never going to amount to anything with you just don’t know him like I do, or something along those lines, but it never comes.

Not a single interjection that…anything he’s saying is wrong. Not from Pa, not from Ford….and not even from Ma.

They don’t…all really believe that, right?

There has to be something else he’s missing. He bets they’re defending his honor right now, and the reason they’re not making a big scene about it is because they’re in public.

Yeah.

He’s got nothing to worry about.

He peeks into the window, expecting to see Ma glaring daggers into the principal, or Ford silently cursing him out behind his back, but what he’s met with is so much worse. Ma and Pa are exchanging warm smiles, and Ford is frantically shaking hands with the principal, beaming brighter than Stan’s ever seen in his entire life.

Matter of fact, Stan’s not sure he’s ever seen any of them look so happy in his entire life.

He’s worthless, he’ll never go anywhere, and they’re all smiling about it.

Stan’s heart drops to his stomach, and he slides to the floor to join it.

Is this some kind of cruel joke? Were they expecting him to listen in on their conversation? Is this their cruel workaround of telling him he’ll never amount to shit?

He sighs.

He stays there on the cold tiled floor for what feels like hours, contemplating all the times he’s been called dumb, or stupid, or a terrible influence on his brother. All of those times when he could brush it off just because it was coming from someone he didn’t care about.

But worthless?

Behind his back, spoken directly to people he loves, and they won’t even bother to defend him?

That one’s new, and if Stan is going to be completely honest with himself, it’s much harder to brush off his shoulders than all those other times.

Stan doesn’t even notice the office door opening until it nearly smacks him in the back of his head. He quickly jumps to his feet and brushes himself off, pretending the best that he can that he wasn’t just eavesdropping on them for the past ten minutes.

“Stanley!” Ford comes bursting out of the room, his grin threatening to split his face in two. “I just received the most incredible news! The admissions team at West Coast Tech heard about my science fair project, and-”

The beam suddenly slips from his face, replaced with some sort of mix of confusion and concern. “Is...Something wrong?”

Stan rubs at his eyes to make sure he hadn’t started tearing up without realizing it, but no, his eyes are bone dry.

Curse Ford’s stupid ability to read his mind.

Stan covers up the gesture of rubbing at his eyes with a yawn, and stretches his arms in the air. “Nothing except you taking forever in there” he flashes a fake smile easily. “Talk about a blabbermouth, am I right?” Stan gestures towards the principal with his thumb.

Ford laughs, and returns his gaze to the pamphlet in his hands. “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t think he’s so bad”

Stan opens his mouth to quip back, but Ford doesn’t seem to be paying much attention anymore. He’s just staring at that dumb pamphlet, his grin slowly but surely returning to his face again.

Instead, Stan shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs, turning his gaze to the floor. “Yeah, I guess you’re right”

~~~

Stan feels like he’s in a haze for the rest of the day. Even when he tries to focus on class to take his mind off of things and redirect it on anything else, he can’t get his mind to stick. Not even final period gym class can save him, which is really saying something, because the gymnasium is usually the one place where he thrives.

Worthless.

The word won’t stop bouncing around in his skull, hitting him where he’s most sensitive.

It doesn’t help a thing that Ford is dead silent on their walk home from school. He’s usually chatting up a storm to Stan about stuff he doesn’t really understand, and under normal circumstances Stan can’t wait to get home so he can bury his head in his pillow and drown out the sound of Ford’s babbling.

But today he’s not even looking in Stan’s direction, just burying his nose in the West Coast Tech brochure with stars in his eyes, and now Stan wants nothing more than to hear Ford babbling on about his advanced physics classes.

It’s almost insulting.

Stan sighs, and lightly taps on Ford’s shoulder to catch his attention. “Can we talk?”

“Hmm?” Ford blinks, like he needs a few moments to readjust to reality. “Oh! Of course. I was actually planning on asking you the same thing” he places the brochure in his pocket. “Same place as always?”

Stan nods. “Same place as always”.

It’s a quick change of direction and a shortcut to the beach before they find themselves on their old swing set. By now they’re both too heavy to use it properly without a risk of snapping it, but they still find it’s a good place to go when they just need to get away and talk.

“You’re not really thinking of going to that stuffy old school, are you?” Stan asks as soon as Ford sits on the swing beside him. “They’ve gotta be crazy if they think four more years of essays and exams are better lookin’ than tanned babes and gold chains. We’re so close to finishing up the Stan-O-War. Soon as graduation rolls around we’re outta here, just like we always promised”.

Ford chuckles. “That is a nice thought, but…” he pulls the brochure out of his pocket again, and unfolds it for Stan to see. “You have to understand that I can’t just pass up an opportunity like this. Maybe I don’t need a degree from any old state school, but this is West Coast Tech we’re talking about!” he beams, the stars returning to his eyes. “They’ve got cutting edge technology and multidimensional paradigm theory”

Stan rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but admit to himself it’s nice to have his brother back again after an entire day of radio silence.

“Beep boop, giant nerd robot oncoming” Stan punches Ford in the arm.

Ford’s grin only widens. “I figured you’d say that, but it’s too late to change my mind. The head of admissions already flew in this morning, and with my go-ahead they’re going to check out my science fair project later tonight and let me know then and there if they want me at their school”

“Well that seems kind of harsh” Stan quips. “What if they say no?”

Ford shrugs. “Well, then it’s like you said. If they don’t want me, you and I sail off on the Stan-O War and never look back”.

Stan frowns at the strong emphasis on if. He really thinks he’s going to get this, doesn’t he? Stan can’t exactly blame him when he’s been the reigning valedictorian of their class every year since they were kids.

“And if they say yes?”

Ford grins. “Well, then you better visit me on the other side of the country” he punches Stan in the shoulder, and stands to his feet without saying another word.

Stan can’t bring himself to join him. He knows that Ford didn’t mean anything by it, but he can’t help feel wounded by his brother’s implication that while he’s off in California having the time of his life, Stan’s still gonna be stuck living with their parents in New Jersey.

It’s just like their principal said. He’ll never amount to anything anyway, so why wouldn’t he stay in New Jersey? Where else would a worthless piece of shit like him end up?

Stan shifts on his swing and watches as Ford walks away, and he can’t help but wonder just how much of the principal’s tangent that Ford believed.

All of it?

Some of it?

Had Ford even been listening to what he said at all?

As he continues to watch his brother walk away, he can’t help the feeling in his gut that he has to know. He hates to start any unnecessary conflict, especially when there’s a very real chance that Ford will be moving to California next year, but Stan knows deep down that if they don’t talk about this now then he’ll never have the courage to bring it up again.

“Wait,” Stan shouts to Ford, and he stops dead in his tracks.

“Yeah?” Ford says, turning around to face him. Stan suddenly finds himself very aware of his heart loudly pounding against his chest, but he forces himself to squash that down. He’s never felt shy or anxious about asking his brother anything, and he sure as hell isn’t letting that start now.

“You don’t…uh,” he swallows. “You don’t think I’m…worthless, do you?”

Ford looks appalled. He neatly folds the brochure back into his pocket and starts walking- no, jogging, almost sprinting back to the swing set. He pauses in front of the empty swing beside Stan for a moment, like he’s debating whether he should sit down or not, but eventually he shakes his head and sits down anyway.

“What on earth makes you say that?” There’s a hint of anger to his tone, but Stan’s not entirely convinced it’s directed at him. “Why would I think you’re worthless? You’re my twin brother! What could’ve possibly put the idea in your head that I thought that?”

There’s a tiny voice in the back of his head screaming at him to back out, brush it off with a joke and have this conversation later, but there’s an even louder voice shouting at him that it needs to be had now.

Stan sighs. “I…overheard everything in the principal’s office today”

Ford blinks, like he doesn’t understand a word that Stan just said. “About…West Coast Tech? Is this because you’re afraid that I’ll get in, but you know you won’t because you’re not even interested in applying anyway, but you know you’re going to miss me, and you’re not sure if you can handle-”

“About me, Sixer!” Stan shouts, and tries his damn hardest to ignore the waver in his voice. “He practically called me a useless piece of shit directly to Ma and Pa and neither of them said a word about it!” He scrubs his hands down his face because he’s not choking up, not over something so pointless and stupid. “You’re going to travel the world and become the smartest person the scientific community has ever seen, or whatever, but me? Apparently I’ll always be stuck here in New Jersey to pick up after everyone else’s messes, because that’s all I’m ever good for”

Stan buries his face in his hands. He hadn’t meant to blow up, and he certainly hadn’t meant to direct his anger at Ford, but he just feels so hopeless, and he’s the only one around who’s willing to listen. He wouldn’t be surprised if Ford returned with anger of his own, or told him off for being selfish, or even if he just decided to stand up and walk away from him for being such an embarrassment.

The silence that follows is thick and heavy. Stan is so convinced that he must’ve driven Ford away that when he feels a hand on his shoulder he nearly jumps a mile out of his skin. When he finally pulls his hands out of his face to meet Ford’s eyes, his face is flushed pink and he looks…embarrassed.

“Stan, I had no idea, I…” he awkwardly pulls his hand away and grips tightly to the chain of his swing. Stan can see Ford’s face shifting through about a dozen different emotions at once. “I…must’ve been too focused on everything else to realize he was saying those things about you.” He shakes his head. “I know it’s not an excuse, but…” he sighs. “I’m sorry”

There’s another bout of silence between them. Stan’s half-expecting that to be the end of it, and for Ford to walk away without another word.

But Ford breaks the silence with a sigh, and when Stan glances over at him he’s staring down at the ground.

“If it’s any consolation...you’re much smarter than me in a lot more places than you realize”

Okay, now Stan has to laugh. “Okay, now you’re being too nice to me. You don’t need to lie to make me feel better”

“I’m serious!” Ford’s cheeks flush pink again, and he adjusts his glasses before returning his gaze towards Stan. “There’s actually been a fascinating number of studies about intelligence lately, and, well…” Ford’s face is turning redder by the minute, Stan swears. “It turns out that…there’s more than one type”

Stan raises an eyebrow. “You’re losing me here, Sixer”

“Well, you see, I thrive in academic intelligence. Math, science, history, you know, school stuff. That’s the most commonly known type of intelligence because a lot of our formative years are based on it”

Stan doesn’t say anything, just raises his eyebrow even further.

“But,” Ford continues quickly, “They’ve also made discoveries about the existence of social intelligence”

“Social?” Stan blinks, suddenly finding himself significantly more interested. “You mean like talking to people and stuff?”

Ford nods. “Precisely. They say people with high social intelligence are much better at picking up on social cues, and can make friends with others much easier than those with lower social intelligence.” Ford kicks at the sand. “The reason social intelligence hasn’t been recognized is because it’s often mistaken for having a friendly personality”. His face flushes pink again, like he’s afraid he said the wrong thing. “Not that a person can’t have both, but…”

Stan smirks, nudging at Ford with his elbow. “Stanford Pines, are you calling your good-for-nothing brother intelligent?” He teases, but can’t help the genuine smile creeping to his face.

“Think about it!” Ford throws an arm into the air, the other one tightly gripped on the swing to prevent himself from falling off. “Every time Ma and Pa leave us in charge of the shop so they can go to Atlantic City for the weekend, who’s the one bringing in all the customers? Who’s the one selling out our daily stock less than two hours after we’re open? You are, Stan, just by being yourself. You know how to persuade people into buying our stock at ten times the listed price.”

“You can’t learn that from twelve years of public school. They can try to teach you, but at the end of the day it’s all about your ability to connect with people” Ford rubs at his arm. “I’ve tried teaching myself those kinds of tricks for years, but at the end of the day…” he shakes his head. “I’ve never been able to catch up.” He smiles. “I raise my white flag to you, Stan. You’ve outsmarted the smartest brother in the world”

Stan chuckles. “Try telling that to Principal Comb-over. He hears you saying the so-called dumbest clown in the entire school system is smarter than you and he’s going to cart you away to the loony bin”

Ford laughs. “You know, now that I think about it, there may actually be a way to tell him off for what he said about you and get away with it scott-free”

Stan raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? How so?”

Ford smirks. “I think you should try to graduate out of spite”

Stan’s not sure he follows. “Whaddya mean?”

“I mean, think about it” Ford stands from his swing and begins to pace back and forth. “The principal called both of us down even though he only wanted to speak to me, and then he talked shit about you even though he knew you were sitting right outside his door?” he pauses in his pacing. “Stan, he knew that you could hear him. Maybe he didn’t intend for you to listen in when he was talking to Ma and Pa about my scholarship opportunity, but he knew you’d be listening the moment you were brought up in the conversation”

That’s…true. Stan was just about to sneak out before he heard them say his name.

“He’s expecting you to fail, and he wants to put it in everyone else’s head too. He thinks it’s the easy way out, because if you choose to fail out on your own than he doesn’t have to take responsibility for being such a shitty educator. It gives him the chance to say look how he didn’t even try instead of look at how we failed him.”

“But if you proved him wrong? Imagine the look on his face when he has to be the one to place that diploma in your hand. Imagine him having to look you dead in the eyes and tell you he’s proud of you. You’ll know he’s speaking bullshit, but he knows he can’t talk shit about you anymore without making himself look bad.” Ford smirks. “Matter of fact, imagine the looks on the faces of everyone who’s ever doubted you walking across that stage. Pa alone is gonna have a heart attack”

Ford’s smile softens. “I already know that you’re much smarter than you’re given credit for, and I think it’s about time that everyone else recognizes that too”.

Stan’s cheeks burn red, and he shyly kicks at the sand. “Heh, thanks. I appreciate it.” He says. “But even if I did manage to graduate, what am I supposed to do with a high school diploma? Every job application I’ve been skinning through recently says college, college, college”

“Well…” Ford taps at his chin. “Then why not go out for college?”

Okay, now he’s taking things too far.

“Pardon?” Stan mocks, because if Ford thinks that Stan’s going to willingly take four more years of classes than maybe he should be carted away to a loony bin.

“I’m serious!” Ford blushes. “Maybe not a high intensity school like West Coast Tech, but college is so much more freeing than high school, Stanley. It’s not class after class on subjects that other people tell you to take. It’s personalized. If you hate science class so much, you never have to take another science class again”

Ford’s blush darkens. “I know that school is a big drag and all, but if you asked me?” he averts his gaze. “I think you’d really benefit from business school. Charisma and social intelligence is the number one thing that big name businesses are looking for, and I know you’re filled to the brim with both. Ultimately it is your decision, but…” Ford fiddles with his thumbs. “Just…just consider it, okay?”

For a brief moment, Stan just wants to burst out into hysterical laughter. Ford’s been offered the opportunity of a lifetime at one of the best schools in the country, and he’s still taking the time to help out his good-for-nothing brother who’s been cheating off of his exams for the past ten years.

Instead he settles for a roll of his eyes. “Alright, Professor Poindexter, I’ll consider it”

Ford giggles at that, and for a few moments neither of them says anything, watching the waves gently lapping on the beach in the short distance. It’s a comfortable silence, a reassuring sort of feeling that Stan hasn’t felt in a long time.

The frantic beeping of Pa’s wristwatch interrupts them, and both boys flinch at the sound in unison. For a moment Stan is worried that Pa’s standing behind them having heard every word, but when he glances over at Ford, he sees him rolling up his shirt sleeve to reveal that he’s the one wearing the watch, and clicks the alarm off.

“Pa made me borrow it so I wouldn’t be late for the presentation with the school board” he rubs awkwardly at the back of his head. “I’ll probably give it back as soon as I get home tonight”

Stan smirks. “You still hate the sound of that thing too, huh?”

“I can still hear it in my nightmares,” Ford exaggerates, his eyes going wide, and the twins burst into laughter as they both stand from the swings and stretch their arms and legs to wake them up from sitting for so long.

Ford wipes at his eye as he fidgets with the wristwatch. “So…do you think you’re going to be okay?”

That in itself is a pretty loaded question that could take him all night to answer, but all things considering…

“Yeah,” Stan smiles. “I think I’ll be okay”

Ford smiles back, and gestures with his thumb towards the direction of the pawn shop. “Then I’m going to head home and get ready for my presentation. You coming?”

Stan shakes his head. “I think I’ll stay out here and just…watch the ocean for a little while longer”

Ford’s smile softens, but he doesn’t say anything else. He turns heel and walks back towards the house, and it feels as though a giant weight has just been lifted off of Stan’s chest. He glances back to watch Ford go, but finds comfort in the feeling that he feels nothing at all.

~~~

Nearly five hours later, Stan sits at home, watching television on the couch to pass the time. Just out of the corner of his eye he sees Ford slip into the kitchen and gently click the door closed. Stan shuts the TV off, and spins around on the couch to face his brother.

“Well?” Stan asks, though he knows he doesn’t even need to bother asking, given that Ford looks like he’s about to burst. With a shaking hand, Ford reaches into his pocket and pulls out a glinting white envelope.

If he’s trying to keep an air of mystery about it, he’s doing a really bad job, because all at once his composure breaks and the smile that spreads across his face looks as though it could burn out the sun.

“They loved me!” He shouts, excitedly pacing the floor. “They told me they’ve never seen anyone else like me!”

His smile is so contagious that it hurts.

Perhaps another day, in another timeline, Stan would take offense to Ford’s excitement to bounce off to the other end of the country without him. Perhaps he’d even lash out, or do something he would’ve immediately regretted.

But here and now, Stan couldn’t be happier for his brother if he tried.

#my writing #gravity falls #stan twins #stan pines #ford pines

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spideyanakin · 3 years

Text

New Starts

Peter Parker x Reader

Based on No Surprises by Radiohead

Synopsis; Rough endings come with new starts

Requested by; @averyfosterthoughts // Peter and y/n meeting after finishing their studies tears after high school only to realise that their feelings are as strong if not stronger as they used to be and they they get back to being in love 💙💙💙

🧚🏼‍♀️Masterlist🧚🏼‍♀️

You and Peter ended badly.

Neither of you had managed to keep the relationship going after high school and messed it up real bad. The fake smiles and distance meant everything. The two of you were just to far away both mentally and physically to keep it going.

The only reason the two of you had clanged onto it was the memory of high school and the souvenirs of the first time you truly felt love. So when you finally decided it was time to stop this mess, it ended up hurting both of you and messing up your friendship.

But lately, everything made you think about him. The blue sweaters of your boyfriend made you think of Peter’s collection of blue cardigans and flannels. His plain white T-shirts’ started to bore you and you couldn’t get your mind off Peter’s pun shirts that you bet were still somewhere in his closet.

“You ok?” Jack asked as he scrolled through his computer.

You nodded rubbing your warm teacup as you stared at the bright red spiderman sticker on his computer, for the first time in a while wishing it was Peter behind the screen, rather then Jack.

You started questioning everything when you realized it had been more than four years since you and Peter broke up. Your two year anniversary with Jack sent fear into your stomach as you realized it had been that long.

You would be lying if you said you never missed Peter. Because you did. You missed the smell of his shampoo and the way he would dress. You missed his voice and the jokes he would crack every so often. Each one of them being so stupid you had to laugh. You missed playing board games until 3 am and your monthly Star Wars marathons. You missed the Star Wars debates and waking up by him tapping on your window in his spider suit both your breakfasts in hand.

The simple thought of him made you want to snap your fingers and go back, go back to a simple life with him, one where you could fully be yourself.

It wasn’t that Jack was a bad boyfriend… He was just sometimes a little shallow. He would go and watch the games every week with his friends, forgetting anniversaries or even important moments of your life. He would also gawk about how much he hated Star Wars right in front of you, and sometimes even saying how stupid the people who did were.

So you hid your true self all the time. You even had to hide your Star Wars hoodies and shirts at MJs by fear of him finding them and throwing them away like the rest of the things you owned that he hated.

And for the anniversaries? Well, you just cried in a corner or sucked it up as you would always do.

You wished you could have gotten at least one more bouquet of flowers from Jack, or at least a cute gesture. But since you had passed the one year bar, everything seemed to slowly go away.

The chorus of Smack that from Akon ft. Eminem brought you back to real life. You shook your head as you realized it was Jack’s ring tone and slightly frowned sick of hearing this song each time he got a call.

He took his phone and looked at it. You scanned his face and saw nothing changed in his features.

“I have to go, babe.” He quickly replied before giving you a smile and leaving out the door. The second he left you let out a sigh of frustration as he didn’t even give you a goodbye kiss, or anything else to go with a loving goodbye.

You eyed the door before deciding to go out and get a change of scenery.

To be honest you were even getting sick of that apartment. Everything was his and left no room for you. Little by little all your gadgets had been replaced with his or even disappeared. For example, the little teddy bear MJ had given you for your friendaversy had gone missing a few weeks ago and so did a souvenir from France.

The more you thought about your relationship with Jack, the more you felt like you were taking a sip of poison each day, waiting until you had the right amount in your system to kill you. The more you were going forward, the more it felt like you were hurting yourself, and it felt terrible.

You walked into an area of Manhattan you hadn’t been to in months and stopped at your favorite coffee shop, the one Jack couldn’t stand.

He said he didn’t like the way it smelled, looked, and just the whole vibe. But you were holding this place close to your heart. The decorations, the scent, the tables, and the memory they held. Everything about made you sick and happy at the same time.

You ordered the same thing you use to, and sat at the same table, pressing your forehead against the window, looking at the quiet streets sighing to yourself as you thought back to everything wrong with your life.

Suddenly your ears caught the soft sounds of the bells and the door hitting the wall with a loud thud.

A breathless brunette had almost run in, cash falling out of his hand. He fumbled in his spot before picking it up and looking up towards the counter where a variety of pastries were presented. That’s when you realized who it was.

It was Peter.

Your first love, Peter Parker.

The one you couldn’t get off your mind for the past few weeks, the one you missed so much he even hunted your dreams.

You kept your eyes focused on him as he ordered a chai latte as you remembered, and a white choco chip cookie to go. You watched as he walked towards the waiting spot and waited, not touching his cookie as he wanted to have it at the same time as his drink.

“Peter?” The barista called out as he placed the cup on the counter.

Peter grabbed it with a smile and looked up meeting your eyes.

That’s something he never thought he would have the luck to again.

His heart froze he as he saw you. You were dressed in a beige trench coat he had never seen before, the color suiting you well. Your hair was casually resting on your shoulders and to his surprise you were smiling back at him, and even waving. He smiled back as he decided to walk up to you, not caring if it was weird.

You see Peter missed you too. He actually missed you a lot. Peter had broken up with his girlfriend because he couldn’t take you out of his mind. He thought the poor girl would take you off his mind, but it just made it worst. Peter couldn’t stop thinking about you and it tormented him during the whole relationship. To be honest, he was so scared to break up with her he thought he was going to end up like Ross from friends when he said the wrong name at the altar.

“Hey.” Peter smiled.

“Hey.” You gave back the smile and pointed to the seat in front of you. “You can sit if you want? It’s been a while.” You stated before bringing the cup back to your mouth.

“Sure you don’t mind?” He said placing a hand on the chair, tapping it with his fingers.

“Yeah.” You nodded with a happy smile.

Peter sat down and placed his cookie on top of the wrapping using it as a plate, your heart skipping a beat as you saw him smile.

“How’s life?” He asked before taking a sip of his chai.

“Alright.” You let out a sad chuckled. “Could be better.” You folded your arms.

“Oh.” He replied looking at you with soft eyes, wondering if you were truly unhappy with your life.

“Don’t worry tho.” You smiled before placing a strand of hair behind your ear. “How’s life for you?”

“Good. Im starting the Parker Industries. It’s going pretty well.” He replied proudly.

“Really?” Your eyes widen. “You’re finally getting your dream?”

“Yeah.” His cheeks turned a light shade of red under your impressed stare.

“But that’s amazing. Running an industry like this is huge.” You stated making Peter blush even more.

“Well, I had help. And everything was already laid down by Tony.” He scratched the back of his head his blush still present

“And? It’s still huge that someone so young managed to do this!” You exclaimed.

“Well, thank you.”

Minutes turned into hours and you felt like you hadn’t lived during these four years without Peter. Everything you missed about him came hitting you in the face. His laugh, his scent, the joy in his eyes, the more you talked with him the more you could sense the slight changes in his life. He looked good, even better you thought. Everything you loved about him was still there, but he had become even more mature and almost better then you remembered.

Your phone rang and the familiar contact of your boyfriend popped up.

“Oh crap. I have to go.” You made a face as you looked at your phone, cursing the stars that he was in your life. “But I really had a good time.” You looked up to him with a sincere smile.

“Me too.” He smiled getting lost in your eyes, the ones he missed for the past years. “Um, let me accompany you.” He fumbled with his hands as he offered you a walk home. “Make sure your safe.” He winked and you chuckled at his remark.

“Alright, Spider-man.” You bumped your shoulder in his as you walked out of the shop and into the tall buildings of New York.

“Im glad the start of Peter industries is going well.” You smiled as you fumbled with the sleeves of your sweatshirt.

“Yeah! Me too! Happy’s been a great help tho.” He smiled as he continued walking.

You felt more peaceful with Peter then you had ever been with Jack. Maybe it was just knowing Peter was Spider-man, but his company felt nicer than his.

You felt the sparks that were once there come back, your heart skipping a beat as your hand brushed his.

“This is my stop.” You awkwardly stood in front of your building. Peter felt a weight in his stomach as he didn’t want to leave you.

Peter stopped and awkwardly shifted in his spot and so did you.

“I like your sweatshirt.” He replied pointing to your Star Wars themed sweater.

“Thanks. You would love the person who gave it to me.” You smirked mindlessly getting closer to him.

“Aha! I think I know him!” Peter placed a hand over his chin. “Isn’t it the guy who dresses in red and blue, saves a bunch of people?” He tittled his head.

“Maybe.” You wiggled your eyebrows before the two of you fell into peaceful laughter.

As it slowly quieted down you met his eyes, getting lost in their honey color you missed so much.

You let yourself go into autopilot as you both slowly leaned in for a kiss.

“I can’t.” You rested your head on Peter’s shoulder skipping the kiss. “I have a boyfriend.” You sighed feeling more weight into your stomach as all you wanted to do was kiss him. “I’m so sorry Peter.”

“Agh. It’s alright.” Peter’s face twisted as he awkwardly patted your shoulder.

You removed your head from his shoulder and looked up to him, a mix of guilt and desire mixed in your mind.

“I’m really sorry Peter, seriously.”

“Hey don’t worry about it.” His cheeks were slightly red and he looked to the floor playing with a rock. “Um my spidey senses and tangling. I’ll um see you later.” He awkwardly nodded before leaving you in front of your building feeling like an idiot.

You let out a soft scream of frustration before walking up to your apartment just too meet your boyfriend. You took one look at his face and felt nothing. You started to ask yourself what you ever saw in him.

In an instant you missed Peter’s touch, you missed everything you had. You looked at your phone and wondered if even with the failed kiss you could break up with Jack and get him back.

You looked back up to him, the bright daylight shining in his green eyes. Your stare shifted to a poorly hidden hickey on the side of his neck.

“What is this?” You asked as you placed your finger on his neck, the cheap foundation staining your fingers.

“Oh, nothing.” He chuckled trying to get away from the truth. “I hit my neck.”

“And you covered it with cheap foundation?” You raised an eyebrow and showed him your stained fingers.

“Yeah, thought it didn’t look good.” He added.

“Jack who gave you this hickey?” You asked way calmer on the outside.

“No one, it’s a bruise.” He tried to laugh it off.

“Jack don’t lie to me.” You looked back into his eyes.

“Your so paranoid chillax.” He shook his head before digging his head in his phone.

You grabbed the sweater he was holding and put it up to your face.

“Why does it smell like Chanel n5?” You stated bringing it back down, listing the people you knew who used it.

“I don’t know because it’s your perfume?” He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“You know I don’t wear your hoodies.” You looked at him but his stare was elsewhere. “And my perfume is from Chloe.” You replied feeling the tears fall down your cheeks.

“Well, what do you want me to say? That I cheated on you?” He looked back up to you and you froze not able to nod or reply.

“Because I did! Is that what you want to hear?”

You thought your relationship was risking a landslide, well it was already a landslide. It was crumbling to pieces in front of your eyes and you didn’t even see it.

“What are you doing?” He asked you almost raising his tone as you grabbed a duffle bag and walked to your room.

“Moving out.” You replied all happiness drained out your voice.

“Hey, Hey! We can work this out!” He said and grabbed your arm. “C'mon baby.” He gave you a large smile.

“Kate wears Chanel number 5.” You said as you stuffed your favorite shirts inside your bag, adding jeans and a dress on the way.

“So?” He scoffed once again.

“So you’ve been ‘going to tennis club’ with her for almost a year now.” You felt more tears as you dropped your bag and walked to his closet to pick up his jet clean tennis racket. “Does this look used to you?” You started feeling dumb for not seeing it before. You grabbed the plastic container filled with tennis balls that he stuffed in his bag every week and opened it.

“The balls are still bright yellow.” You scoffed as you threw one in his face. You brought a new one to your nose and smelled the industrial smell of a brand new tennis ball. “They smell new.” You paused to look him in the eyes before throwing the ball in his face and shoving the rest of the pack on the floor. “I’ve played enough tennis in my childhood to know this.”

You let out a bitter laugh and grabbed your toiletry bag stuffing it with your clothes. You walked to your closet one more time and grabbed a box filled with a few Star Wars sweatshirts.

You spotted the one Peter had given you a few years ago and slipped it on before grabbing your bag and storming out.

“I’ll pick up the rest later, don’t bother texting me. We’re done here.”

You let out a sob of relief, anger, and sadness as you stepped into the elevator wiping your face before the doors opened again.

You felt like you couldn’t control your fingers as you texted Peter, asking him to join you at the coffee shop you had met the previous hour.

Of course, Peter accepted and arrived there in a hurry, waiting for you at the usual table.

Peter shuffled in his spot as he wondered why you wanted to meet him so suddenly, especially after what had happened. He turned his head towards the door as he heard the familiar bells ring. He saw you, a bag on your shoulder and puffy red eyes. His face twisted as he wondered what could have possibly happened to you.

All the worries about your previous conversation had drifted away as he saw you like this. As you got closer he stood up, wanting to comfort you, not caring if you weren’t his anymore.

“What happened.” He asked as you stopped right in front of him, not saying a word. You dropped your bag on the floor next to him and shifted your stare from his lips to his eyes. Without even thinking you closed the gap between your two bodies, crashing your lips to his.

Peter’s eyes lit up in surprise before he let himself melt Into the kiss, snaking his hands around your waist slightly picking you up. He let out a sigh of relief as he realized how much he missed you.

You let your hand come up to his hair, missing the feel of his soft curls in your fingers. Your other hand came up to his cheek, the warmth of it bringing a sudden comfort. You slightly pulled away and let out a soft chuckle before bringing your lips back to his.

“I’ve missed this.” You chuckled your lips still against his before resting your forehead against his.

“Me too.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #Peter Parker Imagine #Peter Parker x you #peter parker x reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom Holland #tom Holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #spider man x reader #spider man x you #spider man x y/n #spider man imagine

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siriuslyshewrote · 3 years

Text

PROMPT LIST

Feel free to request these prompts for Harry Potter or Peaky Blinders characters!

a lot of these prompts i found scrolling through tumblr/ pinterest!

This is who I write for

“How much did you drink?”

“You owe me a kiss.”

“Is that my jumper?”

“Stay.”

“I’d do anything for you.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“Did you know that you talk in your sleep?”

“Don’t you ever do that again!”

“I lov-“ “No, please ... Don’t say that! You love her/him not me.”

“I can’t do anything right.”

“I love you! Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“I couldn’t get you out of my mind.”

“I’m leaving.”

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You just threw years of friendship out of the window.”

“Is that blood?”

“Why is there a deer in the room?”

“You deserve better.”

“They don’t need to know.”

“You’ve always felt like home.”

“Do you even know what subtle means.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“I guess this is goodbye.”

“I don’t know if I want to kiss you or shove you off a bridge.”

“I’m dying. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

“You’re the only one I want to be with tonight.”

“Why didn’t you come? I needed you there.”

“I’m far too sober for this.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“I always sleep best when you’re next to me.”

“Have you seen the rest of your family?”

“I know your reputation all too well.”

“Is it greedy of me to say I never want you to leave my arms?”

“What’s the password? No, wrong one.”

“You lied! You lied again and I fell for it!”

“How do you think this will all end?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Good luck!”

“You’re a horrible liar.”

“I just want you and our baby to be safe.”

“I don’t. I don’t think I ever did.”

“I wish I was enough for you.”

“Where’s [name]?”

“Let’s go for an adventure.”

“You are so beautiful.”

“You may now kiss the bride.”

“Rough day?”

“Come in.”

“For fucks sake, guys! We are not dating!”

“Pregnancy tests don’t lie.”

“You knew how important this was for me!”

“Are we just friends?”

“We’re already like an old married couple. What harm could it be to try it out for real?”

“You and I together ... would that be weird?”

“Nobody is to blame for this.”

“Stop hogging the blanket!”

“You are not a bad person!”

“Is that a dog?”

“Never let me go.”

“Just breathe.”

“My heart tells me to kiss you, my head tells me to walk away.”

“Why am I always the one carrying you?”

“I fucked up.”

“Stop fussing, I’m just braiding your hair.”

“Star gazing was a good idea.”

“Your bed head is really cute.”

“Are you going to leave me?”

“I don’t want to be dramatic-” “I can tell you right now that you are physically incapable of not being dramatic, so continue.”

“Please shut up.”

“Is now a good time to tell you I’m afraid of heights?”

“We are good people and we’ve suffered enough.”

“I love you! No time to explain – gotta go.”

“Well, that’s not a very nice way of putting it. But yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m just tired of this. I’m tired of it all.”

“I don’t think I can forgive you.”

“I’ve never seen that side of you.”

“I haven’t stopped crying since Thursday. It’s pathetic.”

“Why didn’t you reply to any of my letters?”

“You’ve got thirty seconds to explain to me what you’re doing here.”

“I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

“Where are your clothes?”

“I thought you had him!”

“Well, that could’ve gone better.”

“Are you warm enough?”

- “I’m not scared of thunder, that’s silly-“

- “I can’t sleep. Will you sing to me?”

- “You’re the one who said to be quiet, and you’re not being quiet.”

- “This looks ... appetising?”

- “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

- “I can’t stay away from you.”

- “Can I kiss you?”

- “I care about you!”

- “It’s always been you, okay?”

- “Will you brush my hair?”

- “I don’t deserve you.”

- “Can you please come and get me?”

- “Did you think I forgot?”

- “You’re not alone.”

- “Your family called. They’d like their idiot back, you’d better go.”

- “You have something in your hair ... um- do you want me to get it out?”

- “Let’s just stay in bed.”

- “I have a right to be angry!”

- “You need to eat something.”

- “Shooting star. Make a wish.”

- “I want to marry you.”

- “Want to get some food?”

- “I’m a better person when I’m with you.”

- “It’s not a double date. We’re just third and fourth wheeling.”

- “Shh.. It was just a bad dream, okay? Just a dream. I’m here, I’m here.”

- “Take my jacket. It’s cold outside.”

- “I saved a piece for you.”

- “You know, it’s okay to cry.”

- “I thought I could trust you.”

- “Can I have this dance?”

- “Talk to me about it?”

- “Are you ... trying to flirt with me?”

- “Look at us - we’re practically a couple already.”

- “How can you not make toast?”

- “You look really cute in that jumper.”

- “If you were a horse, they’d put you down with all those broken bones.”

- “You need to rest.”

- “Get up. Get up... God, please.”

- “I honestly can’t remember half the things we talked about. But it was nice. It was really nice.”

- “Leave. Leave right now.”

- “Can’t we just get married and be done with it?”

- “Please just hold me.”

- “Hear me out-“

- “Give me one single fucking reason why I shouldn’t walk out that door right now.”

- “[Name] This is serious!”

- “I don’t have the energy to argue with you.”

- “Look, I’m not the brightest tool in the ... toolbox.”

- “You smell really nice.”

- “Your bed head is really cute.”

- “I love your hugs.”

- “You came back.” “I promised, didn’t I?”

- “I can’t love you.”

- “Stop coming back.”

- “My head really hurts.”

- “We used to be friends. What changed?”

- “I’m so in love with you.”

- “I really wanted this to work out.”

- “I can’t do anything right.”

- “How many more people have to die, huh?”

- “Just get home as soon as possible, okay?”

- “The diamond in your engagement ring is fake.”

- “They’re not your kids, back the fuck off.”

- “I can’t stop smiling!”

- “How do you think this ends?”

- “Do you know what a gunshot wound feels like?”

- “Are you okay with having blood on your hands?”

- “I wish you could see yourself when you sleep. You’re so much softer.”

- “I was so stupid to make the mistake of falling in love with my best friend.”

- “I made you some cocoa.”

- “Don’t call me, I don’t want any contact with you.”

- “Please give me a hug. It’s been a day.”

- “I didn’t get soaked wet through walking to your house for you to say no to [favourite food]. I have beer too. I know you’re sad, so let me in.”

- “Got your back.”

- “You can stay here tonight.”

- “Choose me.”

- “Is that my shirt?”

- “I don’t know how to exist in a world without you.”

- “I never imagined myself in a wedding dress.”

- “Let’s get wasted and then go piss on his grave.”

- “I deserve to rot.”

- “Never stop smiling.”

- “How strangely nonchalant for someone who almost just died a minute ago.”

- “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

- “Did you enjoy it? Making a fool out of me?”

- “What we have. It has to be enough.”

- “I’m ready to try again, if you are.”

- “You’re bleeding all over my furniture.”

- “Are the nightmares bad again?”

- “The war will end someday. I wonder if there will be anything left when it does.”

- “I’ll never leave again.”

- “I don’t want to die.”

- “Come back to me?”

- “I’ve ruined everything.”

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thelullabyer12 · 3 years

Text

Rät

I come from scientists and atheists and white men who kill God They make technology high quality complex physiological Experiments and sacrilege in the name of public good They taught me everything Just like a daddy should

Almost everything Tommy knew, he learnt from Wilbur. How to make speeches, how to strategize, how to fight. They rebelled against Dream to make potions. They rebelled so everyone could benefit. They rebelled against tyranny. He would do anything for his brother. Tommy went to war with Wilbur but only found out what he lost afterwords. Sacrifices for everyone, put the burden on the children who fought for the land. The foundation of L’Manberg was blood, after all.

And you were beautiful and vulnerable And power and success God damn I fell for you your flamethrowers Your tunnels and your tech I studied code because I wanted To do something great like you And the real tragedy is half of it was true

Wilbur was powerful and successful. He was general of an army, fighting against a nation much larger than his own. Tommy watched everything the brown haired man did. He wanted to be just like Wilbur. He wanted to be as charismatic and influential as his brother. He wanted to be great, to do great things. He ended up sticking with his brother to the end. He did end up doing great things, both of them. Both brothers ended up seeing their hard work blow up in front of them. Only one had a choice.

But we've been fucking mean We're elitist We're as flawed as any Church And this faux rad west coast dogma Has a higher fucking net worth I bit the apple 'cuz I trusted you But it tastes like Thomas Malthus Your proposal is immodest and insane And I hope someday Selmers rides her fucking train

They ran for president. Tommy would have been Wilbur’s vice. The ones who fought with Wilbur, the ones loyal to him, would have been high ranking in their new government. Tommy trusted Wilbur. When they were exiled, Tommy stuck with his brother. The new government was flawed. Schlatt was a horrible president. He was drunk and abusive but he won the game of politics. Tommy hated him. He and Wilbur formed Pogtopia. He would have followed Wilbur to hell. Eventually, he did.

I loved you I loved you I loved you it's true I wanted to be you And do what you do I lived here I loved here I thought it was true I feel so stupid I feel so used I feel so used

He loved his brother. Tommy felt broken when he died. As he saw the crater where his nation once stood, as he fought for what little remained, he loved his brother. He wondered if, at the time of his death, there was enough of Wilbur to love Tommy back. He fought for L’Manberg. He fought for his friends. He wondered what Wilbur fought for. He wondered how much was lies. He wondered how much his general used his blind loyalty. He still loved his brother. That’s what hurt the most.

I was your baby Your first born The hot girl in your comp sci class And I was Darwin's prep school dream Bred born and raised to kick your ass I fell for circuit boards Rocket ships Pictures of the stars If you could only be what you pretend you are

Sapnap and George were left alone. The Dream Team. The ideal friendship. They were everything. They were strong and powerful. Two were genuine. Their leader wasn’t. The Dream Team fell apart. They should have seen the warning signs. They should have noticed Dream faking everything. They should have noticed the power hungriness. They watched the stars and fell into his trap. They should have noticed Dream’s manipulation. They were everything and then they were nothing.

When I said take me to the moon I never meant take me alone I thought if mankind toured the sky It meant all of us could go But I don't want to see the stars if they're just One more piece of land for you to colonize For us to turn to sand

Dream ruled the SMP. He wasn’t a king or a dictator but he was the leader. He was a good leader for so long. Not all agreed. When Wilbur declared independence, George and Sapnap were the first to take Dream’s side. All three were ambitious and believed they could win. When the first battle came, George realized he was fighting and hurting his friends. Sapnap realized he was fighting children who didn’t truly know what war meant. Neither wanted the war to continue. Dream didn’t either. The war ended quickly. There were smaller battles, smaller wars. Nothing that involved a whole nation. No one in the Dream Team wanted that. As they kept upgrading, they watched L’Manberg have fun. They watched them lose and sometimes win. L’Manberg lost so much. Perhaps that was why it crumbled to dust when Schlatt came.

Because we're so fucking mean We're so elitist We're as fucked as any church And this bullshit west coast dogma Has a higher fucking net worth I bit the apple 'cuz I loved you And why would you lie And then I realized You're just as naive as I am You're so traumatized it makes me wanna cry

Dream, George, and Sapnap. Some of the strongest fighters in the land. The best armor, the best weapons. They could buy, or steal, anything they wanted. The three of them trusted each other, relied on each other. Why would any of them betray the other two? Dream left them. He wanted more power. He landed himself in the prison and changed. He seemed smaller, sadder. Sapnap visited his old friend. He seemed traumatized. After the visit, Sapnap went to George’s houses. They talked. Sapnap returned to his own house and broke.

You dumb bitch I loved you I loved you I loved you it's true I wanted to be you And do what you do I lived here I loved here I bought it it's true I'm so embarrassed I feel abused

He yelled at Dream in the prison. It reminded him of earlier arguments. Fights with clenched fists and subtle begs for Dream to go back to normal. Fights that broke their already crumbling friendship. Sapnap once wanted to be his friend. Confident and powerful. The land of the Dream SMP where Sapnap built his home. He should have seen the warning signs. His friend hurt him and now he didn’t know what to do.

Well I don't wanna eat the rich I'd have to eat my hero's first And my tuition's paid by blood I might deserve your fate or worse But I don't need your goddamn money I don't need jack shit from you So when I speak you bet your life my words are true

Quackity was Schlatt’s right hand man. They were friends, perhaps more. He joint his votes with Schlatt’s during the election. When George bailed on him, Schlatt was Quackity’s hero. He went through so much to stay with Schlatt. He went through abuse, verbal, mental, and physical, to be with the president. He oversaw the Festival to keep power. He saw a young boy get torn apart by rockets to keep his position. He snapped by the end. He didn’t need Schlatt. He learn from the former president. He changed.

Let me level with you man As someone guilty of the game I took the help I took the cash I would've taken your last name So if any girl on earth Should get to make a call about this It would be me and as I see it You're a dick

He tried to talk Schlatt out of it. By the end of his presidency, he was more drunk and crude then ever before. Quackity saw a man who had helped him and Quackity wanted him to be better. Schlatt wouldn’t change. Schlatt stiill saw himself as above others. Quackity rose up in the past few months. He took Schlatt’s help and influence. He took anything he was offered. Perhaps that’s why he wanted to help Schlatt. He saw Schlatt at his glory and his fall. He saw the best and worse and everything in between. Schlatt was beyond saving.

So fuck your tunnels fuck your cars Fuck your rockets fuck your cars again You promised you'd be Tesla But you're just another Edison Because Tesla broke a patent All you ever broke were hearts I can't believe you tore humanity apart With the very same machines That could've been our brand new start

Fuck everything that Schlatt had. His power, his office, his mercenaries, his land. He tried his best to break the people who resisted him. He destroyed what the country stood for. He showed everyone his true colors at the Festival. He forced Technoblade into killing Tubbo with rockets. The same fireworks that could have signaled a new land. The same boy who represented the future. Schlatt destroyed L’Manberg, even if Wilbur was the one who blew it up.

And the worst part is I loved you I loved you I loved you it's true And sometimes I feel like I still fucking do I lived here I loved here I thought it was true I'm so embarrassed I feel abused

The part that made shame rise in Quackity’s throat was that he did care about Schlatt. Maybe he still did. He lived in Manberg, he loved its president and yet he saw it turn to rubble. He was ashamed to have been the one who worked closest with Schlatt. Some people forgave him, some didn’t. Tubbo forgave him. He worked with Tubbo, after Schlatt’s death. He amassed enough power to still be part of the government. He wondered if it was worth it.

I feel so used I feel so used Take me to the moon Because I feel so used I feel so used

~~~

Inspired by Rät by Penelope Scott

Masterlist

https://thelullabyer12.tumblr.com/post/639129395216433152/masterlist-of-2021

#tommyinnit #wilbur soot #sapnap #georgenotfound #dreamwastaken #quackityhq #jschlatt #mcyt #mcytblr #dsmp #dsmpblr #dsmp angst #tw abuse

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red-hood-vigilante · 3 years

Text

more hbo spn rambles, thoughts, drabbles etc. long long post.

part 1 here

there’s some things i’ve omitted here bc others have already posted about those things, certain headcanons and characterizations and stuff. those posts are in my likes somewhere (and i’ll reblog them someday), and there’s some posts i’ve read but not liked, which i now can only vaguely remember, which is why some ideas/thoughts are similar

ALSO most of these follow the model i talked about in part one: how s1-5 will stay more or less how they are but s6-10 is changed (some things are cut out entirely, some things are tweaked and some characters + arcs are more fleshed out. more focus on sam’s trauma and post-cage adaptation to the real world as well as dean letting his rage and control issues consume him and how he’d recover and redeem himself)

as i typed these paragraphs, i realized i really have 10 seasons mapped out and ready to go. hbo hire me!!

alright go:

sam and dean get wearier as the show progresses (second half), and eventually they stop putting so much care and thought in the people they save. like...hm how do i say this, like as long as a victim/victims are saved, they don’t care about how that happens or how those people suffer potential consequences, like if the victims lose a limb or have their homes burned down because of the monster, then sam and dean don’t really care. they saved your life, now they’ll leave you with your life in potential shambles and not care because all that matters is that they saved your life, not how it is afterwards. they still care about saving that one person, but eventually it pales a little in comparison to a war between heaven and hell, being the vessels etc. ---> saving people becomes less about making sure they’re actually alright and healing from horrific events and more about just making sure they have a pulse before they move on

when angels lose their wings they are either burned off in the actual fall or ripped off of them in their vessels, which leaves pretty nasty scars on the vessel

ed and harry are so young and bright eyed about the whole hunting thing; sam and dean as kids, idolizing it, finding it exciting and intriguing when they shouldn’t. sam and dean try to get them out of the business before they too are too traumatized and desensitized to do anything but hunt. neither sam or dean will say it but they are jealous of ed and harry and their freedom to leave, and hate them for choosing this voluntarily instead of being dragged into it by tragedy

hbo spn is a slow burn. there’s a lot more shots of sam and dean in silence just sitting together after a hunt, exhausted and too tired to move yet. they’re covered in blood and guts on the side of the road after killing or covered with dirt in a graveyard after burning bones, sitting next to the fire, just watching it. the times they park the car and watch the stars? we get to see it.

dean wears rings and the amulet all the time in the beginning, for the first five seasons. the rings vary; first they’re some of john’s old ones and stuff he finds in thrift stores. then later on he begins wearing rings from people they’ve saved/haven’t saved as a keepsakes etc. when he begins his descent to the holy murderer in s6-10 he wears less and less rings. they don’t matter anymore -> symbolically shedding who he was and what mattered to him

the only accessories sam has is a rosary/cross around his neck. he has jess’ engagement ring in his pocket/wallet. after the cage he vaguely remembers why the ring was there and who jessica was (more on this further down)

the four horsemen are manifestations of different aspects of human nature at its most grotesque and strongest, can’t be killed as long as humans live. war is conflict, famine is desire, pestilence is physical and mental illnesses.

(the seven sins are like the horsemen, tulpas of human nature instead of demons)

death isn’t a concentration of an existing aspect of humans as much as it is the end of life, the antithesis of life. death the oldest of the horsemen and has existed since the beginning of any life, organism, cell and atom. the opposite of life and light, the other half of god (as i’m typing this i’m confused as to why amara was the opposite of god instead of death). death isn’t evil or good, remains 100% objective. doesn’t care for sam or dean at all, but has a begrudging respect for their stubbornness and entertainment they provide due to their flat out refusal to do as they’re told by celestial bodies when anyone else would crumble

by including death i feel like it very naturally begs questions of who decides when someone dies, when someone lives, why would death follow these guides instead of reaping whomever whenever, what happens if a life isn’t reaped at the right time etc. the reader in me adore the idea of death having a library with books and records of everyone who has ever lived and died and how they died - but then, who writes these books and why? do they decide, and if in that case, how? these questions are above my paygrade but you know what i mean? like there has to be some sort of system right, god created everything, death executes to maintain order, some third party deity writes the laws and the books. the three branches of government. ok but it’s hbo so again, i think we shouldn’t dive this deep into things, like as much as these topics intrigue me i don’t want to stray too much from the dirt road trip aesthetic

shapeshifters are extremely rare because they don’t require any kind of human blood or organs/sacrifice to live

i want more exploration of how magic is like science, like it just needs the right ingredients and right conditions. sam thinks of magic as an obscure branch of science; it just requires research and knowledge and clear intentions because science can be controlled and do a lot of good when used responsibly. dean doesn’t like it. he doesn’t trust the unpredictable elements and he’s seen enough to know it never goes well. magic is a force that can’t be controlled by anyone.

sam and dean have full on fist fights regularly. to practice and keeping each other sharp, but also because they’re siblings. they’re feral, insane and unhinged with each other and they get on each other’s nerves A LOT. it’s petty and childish and sometimes it can get a lil ugly but it becomes their way of family therapy. after a fight the next scene cuts to sam and dean with ruffled clothes, nosebleeds and swollen lips at a diner eating silently after beating each other up. either they sit in silence because they’re tired or both are harping on the other’s openings and weaknesses

sometimes they’ll fight a little dirty but they do so in different ways; dean will pull the old ‘look!’ and point to something and then tackle sam when he turns to look while sam will just cry out in fake pain which makes dean stop dead in his tracks before sam headbutts him or kicks him in the groin

we, the audience get used to these fights, they’re sometimes funny and for comic relief, sometimes for narrative purposes (like tricking a monster they’re fighting each other when they’re really not) BUT. then comes the times when sam and dean are actually fighting without holding back and we see how much they are capable of hurting each other or how heartbreaking and difficult it can be to watch when of them are incapable of fighting back/doesn’t defend himself -> swan song when dean doesn’t fight back against possessed sam, or when dean beats soulless sam unconscious

sam and dean also just verbally bully each other constantly but they do have their odd ways of expressing affection and care. they get the other person their fave snack whenever they go grocery shopping without being asked to and are the only other one they truly trust to have their back in hunts. have a cup of coffee ready before the other asks for one. brothers and each other’s best friend. nightmare duo but in a sweet way. the cooperation of ‘the usual suspects’ when they’re in different interrogation rooms but still has the cover story down to a t. code words and code names and cover stories, they know it all

when sam and dean fight together against a common enemy they’re a damn nightmare - because they know each others weaknesses and habits, they cover each other perfectly and in complete silence. they’ve been at it together since they were kids and read each other’s nonverbal cues like a picture book

to build off of what i said in part 1; the winchesters are pretty hated in the hunter’s community. even the people sam and dean frequently work with (bobby, ellen, jo, ash, rufus, bela, kevin, charlie, castiel etc) roasts them all the time and don’t hesitate with calling them out on their self-pitying crap when it get’s too much (spn was just objectively better when characters weren’t afraid of dragging sam and dean through the mud for being selfish and stupid) and this WILL persist in hbo spn. the only reason people continue working with sam and dean is because they know deep down a lot of the things that happens aren’t sam and dean’s fault - but they still blame them for it. doesn’t make it easier how sam or dean sometimes start crap on purpose to save the other

the winchesters are terrifying and people for sure tell stories about them, but not like ‘they’re heroes’, more like ‘they’re insane and dangerous. stay the fuck away from them’. some stories are true, like how they’ve worked with demons, but some are just game of telephone. (dean has apparently a ghost he is frequently possessed by while sam is actually a mutant vampire). hunters hate and are scared of the winchesters. sam and dean are never invited to hunter stuff (burials, memorials etc) but crash them nonetheless even though the hunters do NOT want them there.

you know what drives me insane when i think about it? how some characters in spn already are their hbo spn counterparts; john. mary. adam. maybe kevin?

other things that already are their hbo spn counterparts: dean throwing away the amulet right in front of sam. eyes burning when angels are seen. how ghosts are just tragedies, stuck in a loop they can’t leave. how a lot of the monsters they meet are just victims or their circumstances or the first victim of a curse. the impala being sam and dean’s home. dean not knowing how to comfort sam when he’s upset other than trying to do things for sam that usually brings dean comfort (driving the impala, listening to rock music etc). the roadhouse. heaven being an eternal version of the memories that made you the happiest even though it’s not real. sam wanting independence and freedom but never fully having it. dean fearing being alone more than anything else and that’s where he always ends up. sam has an eating disorder after the demon blood and dean has an alcohol problem he refuses to see as a problem. dean saying “i’d do it again” without an ounce of regret and pouring himself a drink when sam tells him it was fucked up to lie to him about gadreel

the demon/angel hybrid: THIS could be sooo interesting to explore. an angel and demon hybrid are you kidding me?? not to toot my own horn too much but i’m so clever. i should write this story myself. SO. does this creature have parents who fucked in their vessels or was this an experiment by god (yes i love the ‘mad scientist’ idea, that really should’ve been played up way more) or did a pre-existing creature (human or otherwise) drink demon blood and angel grace at the same time so that it created itself? so much potential for some really intriguing storytelling and character exploration - not only the creature itself and what they would be like, but also for the people around; sam, dean, castiel, jack etc. how would they react to this thing that is the very definition of defying heaven and hell and all the natural laws? does it exist before the show starts or will we see its birth?

the powers of the demon/angel hybrid would be tricky; a mix of holy and defiant, grotesque and beautiful. unconsciously forces people to tell the truth when talking to them. poisons whatever they touch. eyes of a demon, wings of an angel. can smite but skin will burn when touching iron. can do deals but will require a sacrifice in return, not a soul, usually a body part taken then and there (the hybrid eats it. it favours eyeballs and the liver - angels like raw meat). lights always flicker. makes things explode when angry (esp people and cars). can manipulate feelings, thoughts and memories. can travel to both heaven and hell, not welcome in either places. + standard stuff like telekinesis, teleportation, mind reading, super strength etc.

sam and dean’s wardrobe are pretty much the same; whatever’s cheap and not covered in blood. however, they do have stylistic differences. sam thinks graphic tees are funny, dean uses whatever’s black combined with john’s leather jacket. their wardrobe melds as they stop thinking of themselves as individuals and more of “me and my brother,”. their clothes are tattered and torn to shreds all the time. hand me downs, hand me ups. when they stray off their “path” and do things that are the crux of a storyline/character arc, this would reflect in their clothes. when sam is with ruby and becomes more and more “evil” he wears more and more red, a colour he has stated in the past he doesn’t really like. when dean is dead, sam starts to wear his rings and john’s and dean’s leather jacket. when dean decides he’s going to say yes to michael he dresses in white, when sam is dead dean takes off every piece of jewelry except the amulet. he holds it clenched in his fists when he’s whispering what comes close to a prayer

logically the amulet should have a backstory but you know what? i love that it’s hinted to be just a piece of cheap jewelry sam found in a thrift store he decided to give to dean. but narratively it should be explained so... idk. what could be logical solution as to why it would react to GOD himself? maybe god wore it once cuz he thought it was neat but he sold it for three dollars because he wanted coffee and then sam found it a week later

i would prefer it if god didn’t show up at all (absent father number one) but if he DID he’s not all powerful just a true neutral (like death, 100% objective) who created a thing that just took a life of its own, much like a parent and a child - the parent helps the child but can’t control it. the times he did intervene or tried to do something it didn’t really have any real long lasting effect so he gave up on trying a while ago.

@spneveryseason talked about this, how the storyline of sam being possessed by gadreel would be horrifying if we saw everything from sam’s perspective instead of dean’s (her fic is wonderful). in the ‘dean slowly descends into a righteous murderer to become holy’ idea i have this tracks so damn well because again, if dean believes something is right, it is right, no questions about it. everyone around him is like “that’s really fucked up and you should make amends” but dean doesn’t see any reasons for why - sam is alive isn’t he? and seeing it from sam’s pov would really underline how horrifying, dehumanizing and belittling that experience was

john and mary are adam and eve. sam and dean are cain and abel are michael and lucifer. time is a flat circle. history never stops repeating itself.

sam is the villain of s4. he is manipulated and key information is withheld from him but in the end... would it made a difference? it crossed his mind, that he could be tricked because ruby is a demon after all, but maybe he likes the power, the feeling of freedom, that he wasn’t just the baby, the one who always needs permission to do things. if he has to drain possessed people to get that power... so be it. and it’s for a good purpose, until it isn’t. he’s hungry for more, to be feared and respected. he’s enticed by lucifer’s sweet words, the potential of all that power and the idea of ruling two out of three realms. dean manages to pull him back from the brink because sam decides he doesn’t want to be what john thought he was and fail dean and himself like that.

dean is the villain in s9. he is controlling, the mark of cain without the mark. what he says goes - it’s not a democracy, it’s a dictatorship. he doesn’t see how much pain, doubt and fear he causes the people around him. if some victims or civilians die on his watch that doesn’t matter - just some collateral damage. sam can’t make dean listen to him because dean is the older one, the one who’s always called the shots. dean is the angelic one, heaven’s chosen warrior, he is untouchable and unkillable. he’s is an excellent killer, filling the void with blood and rage which is better than the crippling fear of loneliness carved into his bones. 'i butcher for love, to protect,’ he tells himself. ‘why shouldn’t i exterminate, regardless of the cost? i’ve followed the rules, i’ve always sacrificed. now i call the shots. it’s my right.’

sam’s hell trauma is never magically removed. he’s stuck with the memories and the nightmares and the occasional hallucinations. castiel can’t do anything but offers to wipe his memory completely, but sam says no, he is still doing penance.

after dean comes back from hell he starts calling himself old man and jokes a lot about he’s 40 years older now (after he’s more comfortable about speaking about hell)

when sam comes back he feels ancient (he’s over 900 years old at least but he lost count), weary, tired and so so so out of place in this world. he’s forgotten how to put gas in a car, how to drive, how to use a credit card, all the song lyrics he and dean used to yell together, the faces of people he knew before he fell, the softness of a bed, the schools he went to, most of the hunts he and dean, how john died, who mary is, the initials carved into the impala, the taste of food that isn’t raw meat. it’s so much he’s forgotten that he has to relearn. he prefers figuring things out with castiel instead of dean because castiel doesn’t silently resent him for everything he’s forgotten

sam doesn’t laugh anymore. despite dean’s many and castiel’s few awkward attempts, it’s more like quick smile and a quiet “hmm”. on some days he recoils when he sees blood and guts, on other days he’s so apathetic it’s unnerving

sam sympathizes with the brought back mary and castiel more than ever. dean tries to get sam to remember things he’s forgotten from his childhood but sam can’t connect with it anymore. he stopped being that sam a long time ago. dean doesn’t know what else to do than try to force this connection to be revitalized and he fails. sam isn’t that person anymore and this wedge in their relationship becomes a central factor in dean’s s6-10 desperation and isolation. sam is here and safe but it’s not really sam, not the sam dean grew up with

while sam has forgotten how to make coffee, he now knows everything about angels, effective torture tricks, a bunch of lore + biblical history, how to navigate hell, the most powerful and influential demons, rare and powerful spells as well as perfect enochian (he will speak enochian without realizing and it feels more natural than english). lucifer and michael were surprisingly talkative (raging about the unfairness) when taking their anger and hatred out on sam and adam and each other. sam had access to all of lucifer’s memories and knowledge for the time he was the one in control. walking library and encyclopedia of biblical lore.

he still has some muscle memory from hunting and sparring, but sam is ghostly thin and very rusty. even though he’s an expert on lore, he’s not fit to go on hunts anymore and he knows it.

sam remembers adam and swears he’ll try to get him out, but he can’t. just thinking about the cage makes him vomit. he can’t talk about it, much less go near it. after a while sam thinks it might be better to let adam stay down there than let him come back up and feel this crushing emptiness and loss of direction

sam’s trials take place in s9 instead of 8; coinciding with dean’s villain arc. for sam the trials are a chance to redeem himself again, this time for good by closing hellgates forever. they’re scrubbing him clean of the demon blood and his sins and they give him a sense of purpose again now that he can’t join hunts anymore. it doesn’t matter if he dies because of it. it would be nice with a permanent and peaceful death that did something good. dean is taken aback by sam’s devotion to repent for something that happened years ago and for something sam has already paid for a thousand times over. dean realizes how messed up he himself has become and how he’s helped put sam here, on the cusp of self sacrifice again because of sickening guilt and self hatred. dean begs sam to not complete the trials at the cost of his own life and swears he’ll better himself, be a friend and a brother, not a jailer, dictator or a murderer. ‘if you won’t give yourself or life another chance, please give me one.’ ---> s10 pacifist dean learning to let go of the control, the violent tendencies and the rage

oh wait what if gadreel still possessed sam after the trials to heal him but sam is the one who invites the angel in? he’ll keep his promise to dean about staying alive, as well as heal from the inside and have breaks from the world when he doesn’t want to be present, like he and gadreel will alternate being the one in control. he keeps it a secret from dean and helps gadreel imitate him so dean won’t notice. it’s not so bad, being possessed by this angel - sam can say no anytime and gadreel is a nice guy. since they alternate on who’s present they can access each other’s memories, which is terrifying and embarrassing at first, but since gadreel and sam have been tricked and used by lucifer and been punished for it for far too long, they understand each other. now another creature knows their trauma and terrors without the need for verbal explanation. also having an angel residing in his body makes sam feel like he can hunt properly again because gadreel can heal him and take over in situations sam’s overpowered. this could show how messed up sam has come to view himself and his body.

dean is conflicted when he finds out; sam lied but gadreel does help sam heal, sam’s traumatized and his self-worth is fucked up and dean has contributed to that. dean convinces sam to push gadreel out, that sam is still valuable, loved and a good person who shouldn’t be in a place where he views his body and mind like a property to be occupied. sam’s faith begins to come back bit by bit, not in god, but in himself, his brother, in the good things in life. they build their little family; sam, dean, castiel, the hybrids, whomever of their allies that are alive at this point.

castiel can heal sam and dean’s wounds but they are never completely gone; they leave scars and phantom pains. the brothers have SO many scars over the years. dean flaunts them to impress people because he likes the questions and the fearful admiration, the attention and the nods of approval. sam hides them.

when dean is in a bad mood or needs to get his mind off of things, sam just drops something like ‘i don’t get the deal with led zeppelin. one of the most overrated bands of all time’ and dean will go OFF every single time about the entire led zeppelin history, their discography and how they’ve shaped rock music. this will go on for hours and sam will zone out after 1 minute. but dean rants nonsensically the entire drive and it does get him to think about something else for a little bit. they stop at a motel and dean is STILL ranting while brushing his teeth. stops when going to sleep but without fail picks up where he left off the morning after and is so into it he doesn’t notice sam not paying attention at all. we could see this once in s1 when they’re searching for john, another in s3 when dean is anxious about his deal coming to an end and then again in a later season, when sam doesn’t remember to ask/doesn’t have the patience or mental capability, so they’ll sit there in tense silence, showing how much they’ve changed.

---> i can see this SO clearly in my head, how they’ll get in the car and we, the audience, will recognize the camera angle, the same lines and dean’s grumpy mood, and we’ll anticipate what comes next. but sam isn’t that kid anymore and he’s not peeking at dean to gauge what his mood is and how much of a shit eating grin he should wear when being an annoying little brother to cheer dean up. now he’s looking out the window, leaned back, they’re not looking at each other. this shot is a minute or two long, uninterrupted. dean turns on music but neither are singing along or doing anything to lighten the mood.

s1-5: sam gets hooked on demon blood, dean has an alcohol problem. when sam goes through withdrawals, dean decides to quit drinking and joins him because he wants to be supportive, and he realizes that when he drinks two beers for breakfast there’s a problem

s6-10: sam takes painkillers, anti depressants and anti psyhosis meds to numb himself from the phantom pains and reduce post-cage effects. dean started drinking again after sam jumped and still does, but started smoking in addition because he still drives a lot and doesn’t want to die in something as pathetic as a car crash.

there a scene in an episode in the first half of s8, when sam has decided to stay with dean instead of amelia, and dean has rejected benny in favor of sam, and then the brothers sit in a couch watching tv while drinking beer and neither of them look particularly happy about it - that’s how their relationship is a lot of the time. they know they’re fucked up and neither of them will ever be truly happy when the other’s around, but they owe each other so much and they don’t have to explain themselves to each other the way they do to others. they know each other so well, each other’s traumas and the things they’ve done, it feels fake and exhausting to try to be something other than the veteran hunters they are. misery loves company; they are miserable together but would be far more miserable apart and living a normal life. they do love each other, but neither of them are particularly happy as the show progresses. family is hell and so is the lack of it.

OK OK i mentioned it in part one, how i had my own very specific idea about how jack should come to be and here it is. long winded but (might just write a damn fic):

after lucifer was cast back into the cage, he is stronger than he has been in a long time (being in his true vessel helped him stretched muscles he forgot he had. and fresh air.) sam is pulled out of the cage and it leaves a rift in the magic and chains - the binding is weaker and lucifer must act fast to get out before it heals. the cage is still strong enough to hold two archangels, so lucifer has to become weaker somehow to slip out through the cracks. he can’t get out of the cage, but souls can come in. demons bring themselves and human souls as tools for lucifer to use. there’s not much he can do here - consuming them, eating them, touching them, dissecting them doesn’t give him what he wants

eventually lucifer realizes he must do like azazel and create something new of two halves, like when he created demons. he begins melding his archangel grace with a human soul. he tries with demons, but his archangel grace automatically purifies them and leaves them too weak. he must try with a human soul who is good. he finds the soul of kelly kline, who sold her soul to save a loved one. with her, the merging, works.

he has another self, a twin, a son, who’s half human and half archangel. half lucifer. the old lucifer will die but that’s ok, his desires, presence and self will live on in his new creation. the new lucifer barely makes it out of the cage, only able to due to its human side. on earth it creates a body for itself and takes shape, no longer a form of pure power and energy akin to the sun itself but now a person, reminiscent of kelly kline on earth and lucifer in heaven. they name themselves jack. jack searches for familiarity and finds it in sam, their old self’s perfect tool and another hybrid. jack finds a mentor in castiel, a younger brother and fellow angel with human elements. they do not find anything in dean, the key to his former self’s doom.

jack’s powers: their powers are like and unlike the angels because he is half archangel. jack has wings but sometimes they don’t work, or they’ll end up somewhere else entirely. their body is their own, not a vessel, so jack can’t possess people. doesn’t talk but people “know” what they’re saying or want because jack emits their emotions and thoughts to people they’re talking to like a radio tower. jack can also have this empathic connection and communication with animals. his mood affects the weather. immortal. reads minds. can remove a soul from a body and send it to heaven/hell by touching it, with practice they don’t need to touch a body.

other stuff about jack: the human/archangel nature means jack only need sleep and food once a week or so. eats only nougat and raw meat. because jack is a kid they nap a lot. levitates when sleeping. never blinks, stares intensely at everything. their eye colour changes based on their mood. eyes glow in the dark. normal humans who look at jack for too long experience memory loss, fainting spells or migraines and eye contact for more than 10 seconds give vivid hallucinations of their worst nightmares. always barefoot, often floats like 10 cm off the ground because they find it more enjoyable than walking. wears the wildest clothes they can find, nothing matches and nothing is weather appropriate

i have a very specific image of jack in my mind; they look like delirium from the sandman comics with the hair that looks like it’s underwater and the fishes floating around their head, here and here are examples. in live action this would look not good or maybe even ridiculous for sure but in animation... endless potential for angels and monsters to have super interesting designs sigh

castiel’s arc should end with him going from blind soldier, to the unwilling ruler of heaven, finding a place on earth with sam and dean, becoming closer with humanity and eventually a father of three (the hybrids).

#hbo spn #sam winchester #dean winchester #supernatural #iben spoke #ok i'm tired of looking at this now #i just needed to get these thoughts out of my head to get some peace and quiet #more character centric than part 1 #and it turned into such a long post.... jesus #i should make a separate post for post cage sam headcanons #ana if you see this i'm so sorry to drag you into this mess but i wanted to give credit where credit is due

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depizan · 3 years

Text

100 Days of Writing

@the-wip-project ‘s 100 days of writing

Day I Lost Track Somewhere In There Part Two

Inspired by both what @tishinada been doing and her comment on my post bemoaning the fact that the recent prompts haven’t been working for me, I’m going to talk about the world building, spackling, clarifying, and Director Furying that I have done… in the process of working out my character’s backstories.

I kind of Director Furyed* a lot of what’s canon about bounty hunting in Star Wars, or at least what’s canon in SW:TOR’s version of it. (Now that I think about it, The Mandalorian presents something a bit more reasonable, and closer to how I look at it.)

In game, bounty hunters are basically assassins, which I object to on two points: one, those are completely different professions! Augh! and two, the game establishes way the hell too many ways to fake someone’s death, up to and including cloned corpses. You cannot tell me that most bounties aren’t wanted alive in a galaxy like that. The idea that most acquisitions are wanted dead, and can be killed in circumstances where there’s no proof they’re actually dead just drives me up the wall.

So, in my version of the galaxy, bounty hunting is 98% bringing people in alive and in that other 2% something went very wrong somewhere. Bounties are assumed to be wanted alive, or at least preferably alive, with only bounties that are absolutely only wanted alive, and the very few (which are actually hired assassinations) where they’re wanted dead indicated differently. Most bounty hunters are not assassins and many of the major guilds will kick out members who take wanted dead bounties. (Also members who “accidentally” kill a suspicious number of their acquisitions.) Professions have to have standards, you know. Even the amoral professions.

Going along with this change, I have bounty hunting accepted, to at least some degree, in all of the major galactic governments. The Sith Empire licenses bounty hunters (who are, by definition non-Imperial; its not a career that exists for Imperials) to operate in the Empire, as long as they abide by Imperial law regarding their behavior, and Imperials do sometimes hire bounty hunters, but the concept is still slightly distasteful to many of them. (It smells just a little of failure, somehow, hiring an outsider. Particularly to ordinary Imperials. To Sith, it’s more often just another way of taking care of something beneath their personal attention.)

The Galactic Republic also licenses bounty hunters (regardless of whether they’re Republic citizens) to operate in the Republic, as long as they abide by Republic law regarding their behavior, and Republic citizens and officials do sometimes hire bounty hunters. There’s no real standard view of bounty hunters in the Republic. Some people romanticize them, some people view them as lawless and either a necessary evil or an evil that shouldn’t be allowed, some people see them as useful, some law enforcement are happy for the assistance, others hate dealing with them, etc…

(Interestingly, the laws regarding bounty hunters are very similar in both the Empire and the Republic: abide by other laws, don’t cause a bunch of collateral damage, defer to local law enforcement, etc. In the Republic, a bounty hunter who kills someone – even their bounty – will find themselves on trial; though they might get off with a defense of self-defense. In the Empire, it would depend on who they killed and who they’d been hired by, but if they weren’t hired by a Sith or someone else with a lot of clout, and they killed someone who was an Imperial citizen, they’d be in deep, deep trouble.)

In Hutt Space, there are no regulations; anyone can pick up a blaster and call themselves a bounty hunter. There are also no protections, outside of the bounty hunter guilds. And most of the guilds do have standards for their members. That said, most of their members started out as just someone picking up a blaster and going after an open bounty. Once they had enough skill, they applied to a guild and, if accepted, got at least some protection from (other?) criminal elements and access to closed (guild-only) bounties.

Some closed bounties are guild specific – someone hired a specific guild – others are just better bounties that the guilds, who largely control the information about bounties, keep to themselves. (You could say there’s a guild of bounty hunter guilds.) They tend to be the “better” bounties – good profit to risk ratio. Open bounties tend to be small potatoes, or government bounties posted by the Empire, Republic, or any number of smaller galactic governments, which the guilds can’t really control access to information about.

While the “bounty hunter’s creed” is from the wrong era, I’ve had Savler reference it, if not by name, and in fic!verse, the bounty hunter guilds operate by something akin to it.

The Legends canon creed is: “No bounty is worth dying for. People don’t have bounties, only acquisitions have bounties. Capture by design, kill by necessity. No hunter shall slay another hunter. No hunter shall interfere with another’s hunt. In the hunt, one captures or kills, never both. No hunter shall refuse aid to another hunter.”

If I were going to list out my Old Republic version, it’d probably be something like: “No bounty is worth dying for. People don’t have bounties, only acquisitions have bounties. Capture by design, kill only by necessity. Don’t tarnish the guild’s reputation. Don’t interfere in a guildmate’s hunt. Respond to guild calls for assistance.” (Whether not tarnishing the guild’s reputation means that the last two apply to bounty hunters in general is a matter of some debate. And I fold not killing other hunters into only killing if necessary or not tarnishing the guild’s reputation, depending. Either it’s self-defense, or you’re making the guild look bad by murdering people. And making it generally about the guild helps with the fact that there’s some number of just random folks out there trying to become bounty hunters. No reason for the guild to care about them, at least not most of the time.)

Though perhaps my version of the bounty hunter’s creed should also include “Don’t take fool’s bounties.” I mentioned this in a ficlet, but there are people - cough - acquisitions who have gathered so many bounties from different crime lords that bounty hunters don’t bother going after them, unless specifically asked to. You can’t give one acquisition to two Hutts, an Exchange boss, and Black Sun, and you don’t want to have to explain yourself to the people you didn’t give them to. Bounties that look like a great payday, but there’s no good way to cash in.

What Savler didn’t mention in the ficlet is that fool’s bounties tend to eventually end up on the Great Hunt target list -- and then auctioned off in some fashion to the various people who put bounties on them. The Mandalorians who run the Great Hunt have the firepower to make that safe for all involved. (Well, except the acquisition, but one of the most important laws of bounty hunting says that’s entirely their problem.)

*Director Fury: “I recognize the council has made a decision, but given that it’s a stupid-ass decision, I have elected to ignore it.”

#100daysofwriting #worldbuilding #ficverse worldbuilding #Aori Savler #bounty hunting #long post

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sword-of-summer · 3 years

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All of them answer every question fuck you

ahahaha no i respectfully deny your "fuck you" and i accept the ask and so-

i am 5'10", and i don't wish to be taller or shorter- i am the perfect height for hugs and messy hair, and yep, i like it here-

dream pet would be a mix of golden retriver and a husky called Holly and a chonky cat called Loki- yes ofcourse my future kids have names everyone should name their future pets-

ripped jeans/black pants with a Darth Vader tshirt or a Ethnic Fusion Kurta with black sneakers/artificial leather slip-ons, and if it's cold, a black jacket open obviously- and a black wristwatch i love my black wristwatch.

favourite video game was Clash of Clans and going even back, GTA Vice City and, the og- MARIIOOOO

three things/people are Oreos, Nutella and Pizza. The Holy Trinity-

"Beware me my fingers are smeared with chicken popcorn grease"

you didn't mention an opinion, @chunkybirb, so imma give my opinion on Vanilla ice cream and Nutella- ANYONE WHO HADN'T COMBINED THESE TWO COMBINE THESE TWO THEY ARE FUCKING AWESOME

im either phlegmatic or melancholic bruh idk maybe ik or maybe not

im v v v v ticklish

not an allergy, but an intense hatred for ketchup- i vomit if it gets too close to me fuck you ketchup

im heterosexual

any between tea and coffee but full milk coffee (ik, kill me), never had cocoa- but i love a chocolate or nutella milkshake

both. both is good. (cat and dog)

i would be an elf cause hell yeah, knowledge and wisdom

favourite youtuber is Samay Raina, a stand up comedian turned youtuber who is just awesome-

as i mentioned in 1., i am 5'10"

i would not change my name cause it's the coolest fucking name ever, i am Tanay, and Tanay in Hindi means Son, and my parents literally named their son Son, and hell yeah i like it

i forgot how much i weigh- last i checked it was 75 kilos, but ive gained weight since 2019 so yep, gotta walk in the mornings

yes i believe in metaphysicality cause one- it seems cool- second- me and @theclassyghost discussed a metaphysical life theory that i really really like and metaphysicality gives preservation of knowledge so i believe in spirits

SPACE. SPACE. SPACE.

im not that religious, no

pet peeves no well nah not really

nocturnal def nocturnal i sleep at 4.50 anyway hehehehe

fav constellation is Cassiopeia

fav star is Sirius tho

what the fuck are ball jointed dolls

i do have a fear of losing people that's just anxiety i guess

yep, global warming is real

never thought that much about reincarnation tbh but maybe, i do

fav movie is Spider Man : Into The SpiderVerse and Inception and The Dark Knight Rises and Revenge of The Sith and yes, for my indian gang, 3 Idiots and Gully Boy

yep i get scared v v v easily

i have had no pets but i plan to once i grow up

@chunkybirb 's blog is fucking cool awesome and *chef's kiss* a masterpiece

blue calms me. i love blue.

live in Norway cause pretty lights, snow, and less people than this overpopulated country i am in

born in Mumbai, India

v v v dark brown like it's almost black but no it's dark brown

introvert

horoscopes and zodiacs, i do read them, never believed that much tbh-

HUGS I LOVE HUGS

i really wanna visit my brother i haven't met him in a long time i really wanna play cricket w him just like old times

my sister- she's annoying but well i care for her

nah

tattoos idk bruh im okay idk may get one or may not get one

nope, smoking is ewwww *vomits*

ah my crush- she's cool [ if she exists

when the chalk doesn't write on the board but goes iiiiiieeee I HATE THAT

a sound i love is rain pitter pattering i just hhhhhh sends me into happiness

nope fatass here

favourite actors have to be eddie redmayne, oscar issac and pedro pascal- and margot robbie and winona ryder in the actresses section also yes, elliot page

bruh already answered in 30.

im okayish!! spotify and tumblr, cool combo-

my hair are okay being black for me

yesterday, monday, from 6.40 to 6.50

music

uhhh naah not that i know of

well in Rick Riordan's Magnus Chase books, the sword of Frey aka Sumarbrander TALKS and demands to be called Jack, so here i am

bakwaas, music and comfy

yep, i believe in evolution

unfollow on hate and when they dm me sending nsfw pics ugh why are people like that

follow, well, i like people and they seem cool, so i follow them

fav kind of person is the one who'll sit with me for hours not even talking and just vibing to music

fav animals are beavers, doggos and cats

three fav blogs are @chunkybirb, @theclassyghost, @little-boats-on-a-lake, @aredhel-of-gondolin, @sue-me-imbadass, @alleenkaas, @my-ackerman, @brrrrrrrrrrzone

fav emoticon has to be ☹ this me seeing my stupidity outrank others

fav meme has to be Butternut is a master of psychological manipulation

INTP

Libraaa let's go

no dog, i have

black darth vader tshirt, black pants, black sneakers and black wrist watch

i have no selfies my phone has no cameras i live in eternal darkness

what the fuck are platform shoes

i, uhhh, i remember weird things like what i drew in class in 3rd while i was supposed to be doing english

lazy ass here, no front flips possible

i like birds they fly

nope i don't Iike swimming i like blankets

wrapped up in blankets reading books sounds better than both

ketchup

hyperspace travel

nope none

reading writing eating sleeping

my friend

tumblr seems cool

i have around 60-70 idk

yes i can run but why

yes they do but what's the fun in that

nope I'd fall over

sapphire let's go

koala bear or panda

sunflower or the one on a lemon tree

ketchup store

one cup of coffee is enough, tysm

read minds that sounds cool cool yeaaahh

nope never wore it a black clothes guy here BatMan

winter winter all year long

i don't know and i don't wanna try

i don't know and i don't wanna know

everyone cause they are better than me

bookstores cause bookstores any bookstores

sneakers, black onez

apparently some gas bitches mixed up to form a planet

non vegetarian but i partake meat just twice or thrice in two weeks

i don't know they don't seem like liking

naaaaaaaah

bugs ew

spiders ew

about the fact that i come off as arrogant and overconfident while in reality it's just that my communication skills suck

i can draw averagely whenever im in a mood

this thing im answering but i like answering it

uhhhhhhh brain freeze- idk bruh questions are good they give knowledge

yep, while sleeping

ahh yes calming, they are

cloudy days cause fucking cool vibes

hehehe wouldn't you like to know, weatherboy

CumuloNimbus i really like it's name yknow nimBUS

dark blue, dark blue always or black

naaaah no freckles

fav thing is when they laugh and it's just happy and we're both laughing like shitheads but who cares we're rebelling against depressing life and we laugh

both. both is good [ fruits and vegetables

sleep but i have to answer 170 questions cause @chunkybirb

sky sky sky it's my blog's header duh uh sKy

sweet and sour candy. SWEET AND SOUR CANDY.

dim lights it makes me feel cool

ahhh so here we go- Mooncalfs, Thunderbirds, Phoenixes, Sphinxes, Dragons that seem to be Space Nebulae, and more and more and more

i really feel like a boomer sometimes

i love everything about this site/app it makes me feel happy cause i like the people and the posts

uhhhhh i think too much about everything cause i just do. i like thinking

"He's dead, guys. For the sake of The Force, please watch Star Wars now he wanted to discuss it with you" actually no i would just say "A big shoutout to Garlic Bread he loved Garlic Bread"

myself cause i should be sleeping but sleep is for the weak and i am the weak and the strong i am a paradox-

that i obsess too much on things and try involving people it never works out

nope. had braces for 4 years, that beat out teeth showing smiles

i prefer computer-tv ahahahahaha

never tried them, so IDK

naaaaah not motion sickness- never travelled by sea so idk seasickness

lobed ears

yep i believe that deeds do count in life and beyond

idk bruh i don't believe in physical attraction too much- bodies are fake- mentally/metaphysically tho, im a 7

ahhhhh many many Stupid Genius, Tani, Tanu, Tanya

i still do-

i really want to talk to a therapist. converse. and discover.

im both, i am both.

10:1 is the ratio- giving 10, receiving 1

uhhh nothing just when i am right and people use the old "disrespect" argument

3, Hindi, Marathi, English

girls

uhh no i am not

my hair i love them everyone says things about my hair but i love them

knowledge vibes i give, someone tells me- and that's all i ever wanted

anyone i know tbh, my mutuals, my friends, my discord friends

ahhh no i wouldn't but i wish i was born 20 years earlier

bleh bloo, neither like nor dislike

i don't know if i have one

i don't know, haven't had physical contact in a long long long time in a galaxy far far away

the above point stands but i would like to ig

anything i write, 3 hours later, i instantly hate just idk why

anything i write

that i am normal no i am not and i am not okay hahahahaha

65-70 ish people

somewhere around-

many many many don't ask please but okay if you do ask

somewhat

uhhhhh idr exactly but i won't tell in public duh uh

mediummm hairrrr

last year lockdown i became harry potter

i don't know buddy i seriously don't know

yep i do cause knowledge i like knowledge

naaah never tried

no i definitely cannot stand on my hands or my head for more than 30 seconds

yep, im pretty sure i answered most of them correctly-

og link-

#personal #ask #tumblr

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whindsor · 3 years

Text

the trials of online dating, part 2

hey @witchofinterest you’re still inspiring me btw

Swipe left, swipe left, swipe left-

Mika thought, with all the options available to her, that online dating in NYC would be a breeze. In truth, it didn’t even have to be dating. She just needed friends that weren’t her sister or her sister’s boyfriend.

Swipe left, swipe left, swipe - oh, hold on.

Mika furrowed her brow, glad that the handsome man on the screen couldn’t see the double chin she sported as she curled up on the couch. James Bucky Barnes. She’d heard that name before. Where had she heard it before?

A quick google search reminded her, making her sit up and stare down at her phone. Now when she looked at his picture, she remembered how sad he looked during the trial, how tired he was when he took the stand to talk about all the things that happened to him. TIME magazine ran article after article about the years he lost.

And now he was trying online dating? Good for him.

Mika stared long and hard at the screen. He was cute, and he also probably felt a little misplaced here in New York. Or, this was a fake account, and she would be disappointed. Again.

Hiking. Technology. Reading. Well, they had two out of three things in common.

Fuck it.

She swiped right before she could think too hard about it, going through a few more profiles before deciding that no one was going to strike her interest until she figured this James Bucky Barnes situation out. So she put her phone down and went about her afternoon, baking some bread for the week and cleaning the fridge out. She hated cleaning the fridge out, but since she was currently mooching of her sister in the studio apartment, she needed to do a little extra work.

She wasn’t surprised when her phone dinged later. She was surprised to find that it was James Bucky Barnes, accepting her match.

Interesting.

Her stomach did a flip. She wasn’t cool enough to match with the former Captain America’s best friend, and definitely didn’t expect him to go for the Romanian girl.

Had to be a catfish.

Mika: Is this really Mr. Barnes?

She was going to get to the bottom of this. If he messaged her back, then she could get on the web app and trace his IP address and see where it was registered. She wasn’t positive on the legality of that action, but safety came first. Her phone dinged again. A message!

James: Unfortunately.

The response made her laugh out loud, any thought of tracing his whereabouts fading. A catfish wouldn’t respond like that.

Mika: Deciding to try online dating? You’re becoming a real modern man, James! James: My therapist made me.

Ouch, okay, so maybe he wasn’t into the dating part. Mika was about to switch her tactics when he messaged again.

James: Sorry, that was short. Still getting the hang of this. James: You can call me Bucky. James: If you want.

Mika smiled down at her phone. There was something magical about the guy not caring about sending multiple texts in a row. Any girls she dated didn’t mind it, but men were always wanting to look all stoic. Mika found that the less they talked, the more desperate they were.

Mika: Nice to meet you, Bucky. I’m Mika. James: Nice to meet you, Mika. James: I saw you’re from Romania. Have you lived in New York long? Mika: Just a couple months. Moved here after the Blip. James: Oh, I’m sorry. That must be tough. Mika: Could be worse. I’m staying with my baby sister who is now, technically, older than me. Mika: How is it being back here?

Well if he didn’t think she was a creepy stalker, he did now!

James: Weird. So many things are different. James: But even weirder, some things are the same.

When Mika blipped back, it was hard enough to figure out everything that changed in five years. If the TIME articles were correct, Bucky was back in New York after leaving eighty years ago. She couldn’t even imagine how weird everything felt for him. And how lonely he must be.

Mika: So what’s the most important thing for me to check out? Mika: You know, since you’re a true New Yorker.

That was a safe enough topic, right? She hoped so. Centenarian or not, he was the first person to message her that didn’t ask for pictures, and she was in desperate need of someone chill. It took a while for Bucky to respond, long enough that she was utterly convinced that she’d said something wrong.

James: Totonno’s is where we used to go for pizza all the time. If you want good cheesecake, Junior’s is the best. Mika: Oh, I like both of those things!

She paused, hoping that the next message would be him asking her out. Of course, it couldn’t be that easy.

James: Let me know if you like them. James: If it’s any consolation, they still taste the exact same. Mika: Good to know. I’ve also been on the hunt for a Romanian place. Mika: Know of any? James: Not right off hand, but I can do some research. James: I spent some time there, before the Blip. Mika: Really?? Where?? James: Bucharest. Mika: No shit! I lived there! Mika: I was on the south side, in Rahova. James: …so was I. Mika: What apartments? I was Bloc 70 B.

The dots hovered, then disappeared, then hovered again, then disappeared again. Mika held her breath, but couldn’t maintain it long enough before having to take in a gulp of air. Bucky still didn’t respond. Was that too intimate a question? God, she hated this online thing sometimes.

Finally, her phone lit up again.

James: Did someone send you. Mika: What? No. Mika: I’m sorry, did I say something wrong? Mika: I know they weren’t the fanciest apartments, but…

Another ten agonizing minutes, then,

James: I’m sorry. I lived in those apartments too. James: I get spooked pretty easily nowadays.

Mika let out a huge breath of relief. Okay, good, so she wasn’t some inconsiderate asshole. Her and Bucky just had the weirdest coincidences.

Mika: That’s fair! Mika: How do I know you’re not the one following me?

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

James: I don’t do that anymore. James: That…probably didn’t help my case.

Oh thank God, he was just as awkward as she was. And at least he had the excuses.

Mika: Meh, not the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me. James: Same. James: Wish I could even say getting blipped was.

Don’t do it, don’t ask it, don’t say it -

Mika: What’s the weirdest thing then?

Fuck.

James: When Steve tripled in size. James: Thought I was hallucinating. Mika: Oh God, I can’t imagine! Mika: It’s weird enough that Nicoletta is a year older now Mika: At least she’s the same size James: Do you have other siblings?

Mika tapped the edge of her phone. She never did figure out how to word this without eliciting a pity party. But hey, Bucky of all people would probably understand.

Mika: We had an older sister. She passed away. James: I’m sorry to hear that. Mika: Thank you. James: My sister passed away about 20 years ago. James: Obviously, I was not there. Mika: Have you visited her grave? James: Yea, in the first couple weeks I was here. James: Will you think I’m an asshole if I say it was anticlimactic? Mika: Not at all. Mika: Last time I visited Raisa I called her a selfish bitch so Mika: You’re in good company

Too much information, that was too much information.

Bucky sent back…a laughing emoji.

James: That’s how you know you were close. James: My mother got mad at me because Rebecca thought her name was “Stupid Baby” for a long time. Mika: Aw, you were much nicer to your sister than I was haha James: Well, it was the ’20’s. James: Things were a little different. Mika: Were you a flapper? Mika: Don’t lie. James: I would never. James: Lie, that is. James: I was definitely a flapper. James: The cutest damn toddler flapper you’d ever see. Mika: Pics or it didn’t happen. James: I don’t know what that means. Mika: It means I want photographic evidence. James: Cameras weren’t invented yet. Sorry.

Man alive, James Bucky Barnes was funny.

They kept going back and forth, attempting a more normal conversation. It was, Mika found, a very nice conversation. He was someone she liked talking to, and he seemed to enjoy talking to her too. Or at least he was really good at faking it.

“Why are you smiling so much at your phone?” Nicoletta asked later, giving her an odd look from her easel. Her boyfriend had already gone to bed, leaving them to watch whatever they wanted on Netflix. Of course that meant they put on a baking show and proceeded to do anything but watch it.

“Huh? I’m not smiling at my phone.” she said, tucking said phone into her lap.

“Don’t be dumb.” Nicoletta said, brandishing her paint brush like a knife. “Who are you talking to? You better not say-“

“Ew, no, not him.” Mika said, cutting her off before she could utter the name of her ex. “Just…someone I met on HiLove.”

“I thought we talked about those dating apps.”

“I’m lonely! I need friends.” she said. “He passed the background check.”

“Let me see a picture.” Nicoletta said, coming over. Mika sighed, thumbing through the app to find Bucky’s profile, and the one picture he had. She hoped her sister didn’t notice the two unread messages in the corner. “Hmm. Okay, he’s handsome.”

“Yes.” Mika agreed. In fact, he was becoming more handsome as the afternoon went on. “And he’s funny too. And smart.”

“Ok, calm down. You just started talking to him.”

“I know! I’m not like, proposing marriage.” Mika said, rolling her eyes. “I just like talking to him so far. That’s all.”

“Uh huh. I know how it goes with you ‘talking’ to good looking people.”

“About as well as it does with you.” she pointed out. “Pre Steve, of course.”

“Of course.” Nicoletta said. “Have you discussed future plans? Deepest fears? Favorite sexual positions?”

“I hate you.”

“These are important questions!”

“I’m going to bed.”

“No phone sex on the first day!”

“I really hate you!” Mika sang, pulling the curtain around the little area in the studio apartment that counted as her room. It was late, and she probably should go to bed anyways. But Bucky was still up, and they were currently discussing movies. Turned out, he was way behind.

Mika: Star Wars? James: Nope. It’s on the list. Mika: Star Trek? James: Also on the list. Mika: Pride and Prejudice? James: Isn’t that a book? Mika: And a movie! My favorite one. James: Guess I’ll move that to the top of the list then.

Was he…flirting? Mika couldn’t deny the smile on her face now, even as her eyes struggled to stay open. Nicoletta went to bed, and with the light off, staying conscious was becoming a struggle.

Mika: Good answer. James: Ever seen Wizard of Oz? Mika: …no. A little before my time. James: Ouch.

Despite the humor and the fun conversation, she could feel the fatigue setting in. She was so afraid to stop talking, afraid that tomorrow he would change his mind, or find someone cooler than her. But she couldn’t stay up all night anymore, she wasn’t in her 20’s.

Mika: Unfortunately, I think I need to sleep. James: I understand. It is really late.

She paused, tapping the edge of her phone. What was the worst he could say? No?

Mika: Talk to you tomorrow?

Apparently it was his turn to pause, long enough that she nearly fell asleep before her phone buzzed again.

James: I’m looking forward to it. James: Goodnight, Mika. Mika: Goodnight, Bucky.

She went to sleep with a smile.

#online dating au #in other news #i'm having too much fun with this #have 2k of awkward texting #mucky

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teacup-crow · 3 years

Text

Fizzy

The first time Krejjh met Brian they saved his life. Here’s that story.

Words: 1100

******

A few days after they defect from their platoon, the greatest war humanity has ever known comes to an end not with a bang, but with a whimper. Nevertheless, the atmosphere in Neuzo is electric with joy, and it tingles Krejjh’s skin as they down another glass of… well, they’re trying to find out what.

“Shrel veeda agat?” They try, waving a hand at the transparent bubbling liquid. The human bartender, a person with an accent far too strong for Krejjh’s barely-there Earth-English, shakes his head uselessly. “Mmmm… has what? Cup has what?”

“Oh! That’s lemonade. Well, the closest we can get to it out here; the Americans are pretty unconvinced by it but it seems popular with everyone else, as well as your lot...”

“Lemonade,” they take another sip appreciatively, understanding the first three words of the answer and trying for the right question word as they wave another free hand. “Veedo... veedo... why! Lemonade has…” they gesture uselessly, miming the bubbles popping. “What, why?”

At the awkward and apologetic shrug they receive, Krejjh sighs. Breesht! They really need a translator, and sooner rather than later.

Pocketing the little umbrella from the drink, they down it and drop a handful of coins on the table. Few places in Neuzo deal solely in credit - hard cash is far less easy for the IGR to track, and more difficult to fake. It’s helpful for someone with no ID, but human, physical forms of money don’t feel real to Krejjh, all those little slivers of metal imprinted with stars and dates and numbers. Consequently, the supply of it in their pockets is rapidly dwindling. They probably need to deal with that problem sooner than later too.

Still, for now, back to the motel and to trying not to ruminate too hard on the choices that led them to wandering this collection of space stations with no plan and no idea what to do.

It’s a street scuffle that catches their attention just a few blocks from the bar. Words which are Earthen, but not English, and distinctly threatening -

“Coglione! Sei stupido?!”

There are other humans who hear it too, but they rapidly disperse. Krejjh steps a little closer in overwhelming curiosity.

Three men, in cool black jackets Krejjh immediately wants to get their hands on, have backed another into a wall with a knife against his neck. He looks a little bruised up, as if he tried to escape from them and failed miserably. He also doesn’t look like a particular target for mugging or intimidation - he’s so skinny even by human standards, in baggy clothes, glasses, fluffy gold-brown hair and freckles that scream civilian and young. How cowardly of the other humans to flee! Krejjh clenches their jaw.

“Fellas, è tutto un malinteso… io posso…”

Then, glancing round desperately for an escape route, he catches Krejjh right in the eye and says, in perfect Dwarnian:

“Ch’eth il.”

Help me, in one of its most desperate forms.

The man with the knife tenses the muscles in his upper arm, and Krejjh steps out of the shadows with a hand on their blaster and clears their throat.

There’s a few seconds of silent stand-off that stretch out until the men let their victim slump to the floor, nod, and skulk off. He crouches for a few moments, breathing rapidly, shaking with nervous laughter, words in English this time: “Oh man, I thought I was a goner.”

“You speak Dwarnian?” Krejjh says, crouching beside him, barely able to hope.

He replies in their language: “I’m pretty fluent, yeah. Dude, you just saved my life!”

“Glad I could be of assistance! The name’s Krejjh,” they say, so delighted to be having an easy conversation for the first time in days, and press a thumb to his in greeting, a custom he seems aware of.

“Kre… you’re a pilot!” He smiles, broadly, and Krejjh realises they can’t quite take their eyes away from that face. It’s dazzling. His eyes crinkle at the corners: he’s not quite as young or innocent as they first thought, and that intrigues them, too.

“You… know how our names work?” They’re smiling too. Apparently his is infectious.

“I had to write a three-thousand word paper on it, junior year of my undergrad. I’m a linguist, I, uh, work as a translator. Freelance, you know? I did some work for those guys, but as you can see, our contract’s kinda fallen through. Oh man, this is all out of order, sorry, I’m a bit… I’m Jeeter. Brian Jeeter. And wow, Krejjh, if there’s anything I can do to pay you back for that - ”

“Translatorjeeterbrianjeeter? I absolutely have a job for you! I need English lessons, and translation services, and pretty much every sort of help you can provide with understanding human languages.”

“That I can definitely provide!”

And the deal is done, like most deals in Neuzo, quickly in a back alley.

“Okay so, lesson one, squashing everything together like that is really not how English names work… like that obviously sounds good in Dwarnian but once we translate it it’s long and uh, unwieldy...”

They listen intently to his chatter as they head back to the main street. The station lights, mimicking a planetary day, are beginning to dim even further.

“Want me to walk you home?” Krejjh offers.

“I… I normally wouldn’t take you up on that, but it’d be appreciated right now. If I look like I’m under some Dwarnian protection the gang might cool off and forget about me.”

“You would be quite hard to forget,” Krejjh says, barely thinking. His cheeks and the tips of his ears turn an alarming shade of pink, like the birds back on Homeworld when they sense a threat and want to blend with the sky.

“This is my place!” He waves up at a cosy, second floor apartment. Even from here they can see the stacks of teetering books. “Swing by tomorrow whenever it suits if you like.”

“I can do that! Wait, how do I say bhren ip nokeen in Earth-English? How do I say the phrase how do I say that in Earth-English? How do I…”

“Maybe let’s go one thing at a time, yeah? Bhren ip nokeen is ‘good night’.”

“Good night, Translator Jeeter!”

“G’night, Krejjh.

“Wait, wait, one more thing.” He hangs out of the doorway, looking down at them for the first time from the steps. They suddenly feel a little shy themselves, which is pretty unusual for them. “In lemonade, what is it called when it’s bubbly? And how do they make the bubbles?”

“Dwarnians don’t have carbonated drinks? And they say we have inferior technology...”

“Oh, so… you add carbon dioxide to your beverages?!”

“When you put it like that, it sounds weird, but yeah. I think the word you’re looking for is fizzy.”

Krejjh tries it out as they walk back to their motel again, lingering on the zzzz sound, picturing the way his face made them feel, picturing the partygoing humans and their relief and joy and excitement, feeling their heart race a little faster than it should. Maybe, they decide, it’s not just drinks that can be fizzy.

*******

Notes

I remembered like halfway through this that what Europeans/Australians call lemonade and what Americans call lemonade is NOT the same, and I feel like 200 years of cultural integration and space flight wouldn’t change that. Also, Americans are actually correct here: lemonade should contain actual lemons and not be a stand-in word for 7up/Sprite. But hell, this station is full of Sicilian Mafia, it’s definitely a European part of Neuzo, don’t @ me.

The Italian conversation, according to Google Translate, is pretty much: “Asshole! Are you stupid?”... “This is all a misunderstanding, I can-”

Brian buys Krejjh a soda stream at some point. I just know it.

#tscosi #the strange case of starship iris #fanfic

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fallen420 · 4 years

Text

Rebel Spy - Chapter 7: It’s Always Nothing

Description: Auroras life becomes lonely after the war ends but when a familiar Mandalorain needs her help who is she to refuse.

prologue chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6

playlist

"A lady's man?"

"That's what it says on the tracking forb." Mando sits at the table cleaning my blaster after getting mad at me for supposedly doing it wrong.

I feed the kid another dried frog, "You know I can't wait until one of these bounties has a thing for Mandalorians then we can use you as bait."

"You're not bait."

I sigh, "What do you want me to do?"

"He likes going to this- this club."

"A club?"

"Yes, a club."

"Stars, I haven't been to one of those in years. So what, I flirt with him get him outside and you take it from there?"

"If he doesn't find you out like the last time."

"Not my fault that creep touched me. Seeing you punch him in the face made it worth it though."

Mando lets out a chuckle. I wonder what he sounds like without the modulator. Is his voice still all hoarse and husky or is it softer and lighter?

"He deserved it." He hands me my blaster.

"Thanks, even though I could of done it myself."

"You were doing it wrong."

"Oh, whatever."

This club is loud. I haven't been to one in years but I do not remember them being this loud. People are drinking, dancing, talking. Everyone is young and having the time of their lives and I'm here working.

The comlink is in my ear however this time its a lot smaller.

"What does he look like again?"

"Blonde, blue eyes."

"Gonna need more than that Mando."

"Uh, he has a scar on his cheek."

"There's hundreds of people in here this might take a while."

I sit at the bar and order a drink. I look around the club and I spot a Twi'lek and all it does it remind me of her and just pisses me off.

The bartender puts my drink in front of me.

"Thanks."

"So huh, what brings you here?" Can't I just have a drink?

"A ship." He laughs not sensing the sarcasm at all.

"Whats you're name?"

"Jana."

"Liar," Mando says into the comlink

"I'm Max."

"Good for you." He gets the hint and walks away.

"You didn't have to be so mean."

"Oh, shut up."

"He's walking in."

He walks in like he owns the place and no matter how much he annoys me I have to get him to like me.

I make sure to make eye connect and give him my best fake smile. He walks over and sits right next to me. Guys are so easy.

"I haven't seen a beautiful woman in here for years, you must not be from around here." Smooth.

"I'm not actually."

"So what brings you here?"

"Just working. Thought I'd take the night off come out. Maybe see if I can get lucky."

He smirks, "I'm Axe." Stars even his name is annoying.

"Jana."

"Pretty just like you."

"You're not bad yourself," Before I can suggest getting out of here so Mando can get him apparently Mando is already a step ahead of me by bursting in and punching the guy in the face knocking him out insistently. Everyone stops what they're doing to watch as Mando cuffs the guy and pulls me out of there.

"What the fuck was that?" I ask once we get outside. He just grunts and walks even faster then he normally does, "I thought we had a plan."

"Plan changed."

"Could've of informed me."

"You seemed busy."

We both walk back to the ship angry.

When we get on the razor crest he puts the guy in the carbonite block.

"Seriously though what the hell?" Nothing, "I had it under control you didn't have to do that." My voice is louder then it usually is due to the anger and confusion.

"Sounded like you were having fun."

"Well, I wasn't! You think I wanted to be flirting with him?"

"It sure sounded like it." If never heard Mando so mad before he's not even raising his voice but by the tone of it boy is he mad.

"I'm good at lying I was a spy remember?"

"Has anything you told me been true?" He gets quieter like he's scared of the answer. Scared of what I'll say or how I'll react to the question.

"Are you serious?" the anger is my voice is pure. I feel my blood boil. How dare he even ask something like that, "Oh, that's real rich coming from you. I don't even know your name and you're accusing me of not telling the truth. Everything I've told you has been true you asshole. Why are you even mad I was flirting with him anyway?"

"Because-" He stops himself. One thing about Mando is that he doesn't say anything he doesn't want to. "I just-"

"Well?"

"Nothing."

"It's always nothing isn't it?" He doesn't say anything and he just storms off to his cot.

I sit down in my cot. I look down at the kid who is just staring at me, "Tomorrow should be fun."

Tomorrow, however, doesn't come as fast as I would like.

The thought that Mando might be mad at me is killing me even though I should be the one mad at him.

Well, I am mad at him. If anyone should be getting a bad night's sleep it's him.

Why is he mad that me though? Why did he storm in? Did he not think I can handle it? No, he knows I can handle myself he's seen it.

Was he-? No. He can't be. I mean yes he's made a few jokes here and there but that's what they were jokes.

But Mando doesn't say anything unless he wants too.

Was he jealous I was flirting with someone else? Just like I was with her? I was only doing it to get the bounty it's not like I wanted to be flirting with him? I would much rather be flirting with Mando but-

No, Mandalorians don't feel things.

I'm too lost in my thoughts to hear Mando's door open.

I feel a hand on my ankle. I practically jump out of my skin. I jump up so fast not only do I wake up the kid I hit my head on the shelf making the kid next to my stir and wake up.

"Ow! Mando what the hell?!"

"Din."

"What?"

"Din. That's my name I want you to use it."

He just told me his name. He trusts me enough to know his name.

"Oh," Get over the shock Aurora, "Okay, What the hell Din?!"

"Sorry, cyar'ika, didn't mean to scare you."

"I'm not complaining about finally knowing your name but I didn't think a headache would come with it."

The kid giggles at me. He always seems to laugh at my pain.

"Sorry."

"It's okay, Din." It feels a lot more natural then Mando ever did.

He placed his bare hand on mine and I immediately feel warm, it feels like home, it feels natural.

"Go to sleep cyar'ika."

"Only if you tell me what that means."

He sighs. I feel his whole body tense. He's scared again. I don't know why he's scared if anything I should be the scared one.

"It can mean different things like uh- darling, sweetheart, um- beloved."

Oh.

Stars do I wanna tell them. I wanna tell him things I haven't said since Alderaan but I'm so god damn scared.

He just told you his name Aurora cant you give something back.

Oh, stars he staring at you now wondering what the hell you're thinking.

It's pretty dark in here but I can make out the silhouette of his helmet. I place my hand on the side of his helmet. My heart is racing and it feels like time has slowed down. It's just us. And the kid staring wonder whats happening. Honestly me too kid.

"Cyar'ika," he says it as a whisper like he's scared the word will burn his tongue. There's silence its not an awkward or bad silence but silence.

"Stay with me tonight," I whisper also scared of the words. He doesn't say anything he just climbs into the cot he already has his armor off so I don't have to worry about that. I lay down next to him and his arm drapes over my waist. I can feel his helmet against my head, "You don't have to leave it on you know," my voice is still a whisper, "It can't be comfortable to sleep in. I won't look or anything."

The words sit in the air for a moment before he slightly sits up. I hear a hiss and then I can hear the beskar being placed on the ground.

"Good night Aurora." I hear his voice. His real voice, not some modified voice. It's still deep and husky but it has a softer tone to it. I can feel his hot breath against my head and it takes everything in me not to turn around just to see the silhouette of his face.

"Good night Din." The kid snuggles under my arm and we all fall asleep as a family.

I wake up to an empty cot.

No Din.

No kid.

At first, I wonder if last night was just a dream but then I remember how the normally cold ship felt warm last night. How I felt Din's hot breathe on my neck. How I actually slept since the war.

I climb out of bed my bare feet hitting the cold metal floor. I wear Din's shirt that I have kept has a sleep shirt.

I climb up to the cockpit to see Din in the pilot's chair like usual and the kid in the other co-pilots seat. The kid coos when he sees me causing Din to turn around. "He got hungry and fussy so I brought him up here. I didn't want to wake you." I smile before sitting down in my chair, "We should land on Jakku in a couple of hours there's a bounty hiding there."

"Jakku that's the last place I wanna go." I sit down in my co-pilots chair.

"Its the last place anyone wants to go but-"

"We need the credits I know. But Jakku really?"

"Didn't you live on Tatooine?"

"No our last base blew up and we were residing there until we could all meet up again when it was safe then you came and ruined that."

He gets tense at the mention of how we first met.

"Sorry about that."

"Why? It's not like you actually gave me to Jabba. Why did you let me go?"

"Because you asked me not too."

"I couldn't of been the first bounty to beg for their life."

"You begged me to kill you." He reminds me in a whisper.

"It was better than going back to Jabba the Hutt."

"I saw the look in your eyes and I just I-I couldn't do it. After I dropped you off on Naboo I stopped being the arrogant, stupid kid I used to be."

"Still a little arrogant." I softly laugh trying to brighten the mood. He just titles his head before letting out the sound I'll never get tired of a soft chuckle.

We lay on a dirt hill and Din looks in his binoculars.

"Do you see him?" I ask adjusting trying to get more comfortable.

"No."

"Then why are in lying in the dirt sweating?"

"I'm not sweating."

I scoff, "Good for you."

"You could always go back to the razor crest."

"I'm fine."

"Then stop complaining."

"Oh, shut up target practice."

"I told you to stop calling me that."

"Yeah but it's funny."

"It's not."

"It is."

"Aurora."

"Din." He looks at me and looks back through the binoculars.

"There he is."

"Lemme see." I take the binoculars out of his hands causing him to sigh. I spot a yellow Togruta.

We walk down the hill and enter Jakkus version of a city. Which is just booths set up ran by criminals.

"How are you not hot wearing all of that?" I ask Din as we walk to where we spotted Togruta.

"I'm just not."

"Oh to be a Mandalorian." I wipe the sweat from my nose.

"We'll be back on the ship soon cyar'ika."

"Not soon enough." We spot him talking to a vendor, "What's the plan?" No response. "Please tell me you have a plan."

"I thought we could just grab him."

"Are you serious?" I say with a deadpan tone in my voice.

"I figured we would just," But its too late he spotted us, and he's booking it fast. Din and I chase after him. He runs ahead of me because he has the advantage of longer legs. As the Togruta runs he knocks things down in his path slowing down Din.

Instead of trying to jump over everything. I take a different route to cut him off. Before I have time to pull my blaster out I run into him. No I mean I literally run into him.

His first reaction is to punch me in the face which hits me hard."Well, that was rude." I punch him in the face. Making him stumble backward. Then I kick him in the stomach he grunts in pain. He bumps into the table grabbing the knives (which is just my luck to fight next to a knife booth). I pull out my blaster and its a standstill. "Ever heard the phrase don't bring a knife to a blaster fight?" Where the hell is Din?

He throws the knife it hits me in my right arm which is the one I hold my blaster with. I drop my arm is the searing pain. I see him running towards me and I use all my strength to shoot him in the stomach. He drops to the floor with a thud and I stand there with my arm bleeding wondering where the hell my Mandalorian.

My questions get answered when I see him running towards me out of the corner of my eye. He is panting hard. He's looking at the ground with his hands on his knees. It's quite funny actually.

"Nice of you to join us."

"Sorry," Pant, "Ran," Pant, "A lot."

"Cry me a river old man. Do you have a knife in your arm?"

He looks up right away. He grabs the sides of his cape and rips off a piece, "This is gonna hurt cyar'ika," He puts his hand on the handle of the knife and pulls it out slowly. I wince only a little at the pain having experienced a lot worse. After the knife is out he drops it to the ground. He wraps the ripped piece of the cape around the wound tight, "That should hold until we get back to the ship." He puts the bounty over his shoulder and we start our walk back.

"I can't believe you let him outrun you," I say with a laugh.

"He was fast." The batca patch on my wound should have it healed by tomorrow. I don't even notice the wound at this point. We sit in the cockpit and the kid snores peacefully next to us.

"Can't believe I had to fight him by myself."

"You won didn't you?"

"Of course I did I'm awesome." Din puts the ship into hyperdrive, "Where to next? And please don't tell me another desert planet."

"Not sure cyar'ika, maybe a backwater planet we can lay low on."

"Sounds nice."

Before it can sound nice for too long though Din gets a transmission, "My friend, if you are receiving this transmission, that means you are alive. You might be surprised to hear this, but I am alive too. I guess we can call it even. A lot has happened since we last saw each other. The man who hired you is still here, and his ranks of ex-Imperial guards have grown. They have imposed despotic rule over my city, which has impede the livelihood of the Guild. We consider him an enemy, but we cannot get close enough to take him out. If you would consider one last commission, I will very much make it work your while. You have been successful so far in staving off their hunters, but they will not stop until they have their prize. So here is my proposition. Return to Nevarro. Bring the child as bait. I will arrange an exchange, and provide loyal Guild member as protection. Once we get near the client, you kill him, and we both get what we want. If you succeed, you keep the child, I will have your name cleared with the Guild, and you can your new Rebel Commander girlfriend can live peacefully. A man of honor should not be forced to live in exile. I await your arrival with optimism."

The transmission ends and Din doesn't say anything.

"You cannot be considering that?" Nothing, "Din they tried to kill you and the kid. This could be a trap."

He turns around, "What if it's not?"

"What if it is?"

"Then we fight our way out like we always do and if it's not our names will be cleared."

"Were gonna need help."

"Who?"

"You think Cara will do it?" While I haven't met Cara I know she saved Din before hopefully, she will help us again.

He turns around to I assume set us on route for where ever Cara is.

He turns around again and looks at me probably seeing the worry in my face. He places his gloved hand on my face, "Don't worry cyar'ika everything will be okay."

Feedback is always appreciated!

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barrybluejeansandbestjeanist · 4 years

Text

Notes on the Artemis Fowl movie by yours truly.

Bear in mind I wrote these while watching the movie. There’s a lot of them.

1. If you think the police and/or reporters would ever be anywhere near fowl manor you’re wrong.

2. Mulch isn’t bad so far but he’d never be caught by police.

3. Is our first introduction to Artemis him running? I think not thank you very much.

4. Plus it looks like he’s going to do some water sport. Also wrong.

5. Surfing!!??!!?

6. Artemis doesn’t have even close to the coordination to do that.

7. I don’t even think he knows how to swim.

8. He doesn’t love Ireland.

9. Of course he doesn’t love school! Have you seen his teachers’ remarks on him? They aren’t nice.

10. It was a boys-only school but that’s definitely one of the smaller offenses.

11. He did do the chess thing if I recall correctly.

12. Same for the opera house.

13. He didn’t clone a goat or name anything Bruce.

14. Unusual is an understatement.

15. Dr. Po?!

16. Fake chair! Yeah!

17. That exchange from the Arctic incident wasn’t a bad choice to include. Too early though I think. We’ll see how the rest of the movie goes.

18. He’s got blue eyes. At least there’s that.

19. He doesn’t have a biography!

20. His mom isn’t dead! Disney is just scared of showing mental illness.

21. If you think Angelina Fowl can’t control Artemis you’re wrong. She calls him Arty for god’s sake. He loves his mom.

22. Mysterious absences my ass. He’s the one that should be presumed dead.

23. “This is a sensitive area doctor” sure.

24. Fake chair ftw.

25. The burden of his father’s name?! He’s proud of that name.

26. This scene wasn’t so bad. We’ll see how the rest of the movie fairs.

27. Who does he think he is? He Artemis freaking Fowl!

28. Skateboarding! I’m about to have an aneurysm.

29. Also, why is he wearing jeans? Get this man a suit!

30. He did not like being at home with his dad. Not in the first book anyway. His parent being out of the way allowed him to do what he did.

31. His dad’s actor looks good for the part.

32. His father is a criminal. World-famous. He did not just deal with antiques and rarities.

33. His dad also didn’t care for fairytales.

34. Music’s nice I guess.

35. Why is arty wearing a hoodie?! He would never!

36. Artemis was not taught about fairies. He discovered them himself with basically no help.

37. So much physical contact between Artemis sr. and jr. No.

38. His dad did not believe in any such legends.

39. They shared only a passion for crime and that didn’t even last.

40. He wasn’t determined about any such thing. See point 36.

41. He wasn’t preparing Artemis for anything like that.

42. Fairy stones? What are those?

43. There was no peace made between humans and fairies.

44. Tuatha De Danaan? What is that?

45. Artemis would want to get to the point I guess.

46. His work was not coming to an end. What is going on? Can we meet Holly soon?

47. I’m ten minutes in and suffering.

48. Artemis wasn’t really one to smile unless things were going his way.

49. You are a child! You are still a kid! You’re like a literal baby still!

50. The whole point of him being 12 in the books was that he could still believe in magic as well as science. Wtf is going on?

51. I do know the Hill of Tara.

52. I take issue with “all I really want is to believe in you” but I don’t have time to get into it here.

53. He’s still wearing a hoodie. >:(

54. Hugging his dad. No.

55. I will accept the helicopter on the front lawn if only because it seems one thing that could’ve happened in the books.

56. Where are the Butlers? Why are neither of the fowls being guarded? I need more Juliet and Butler in this movie NOW.

57. And Holly.

58. Pretty sure they don’t have a lighthouse. Also, pretty sure fowl manor wasn’t next to the ocean.

59. Might’ve been near a Forrest. I don’t quite remember.

60. Legos?! LEGOS?!??!!

61. Also, star wars? I don’t think Artemis has ever seen a sci-fi movie. He’s too busy making them a reality.

62. Artemis would also not sleep with a book.

63. Why did Butler’s name in the subtitles appear as Domovoi? You know there’s a whole thing about his name and why Arty doesn’t know it right?

64. So his dad disappeared. Not bad. A little late but okay.

65. Everyone has already aired their grievances about Butlers actor so I shall refrain from doing so as well. I’ll just say one word and leave it at that. Eurasian.

66. Also, fowl manor doesn’t look bad. I can accept this house.

67. No no no. No one should be calling him Domovoi. Only Butler.

68. Also, that isn’t the training he had.

69. He is the butler though? I mean. Only sort of but like. ???

70. No. You could not call him Dom or Domovoi.

71. Very large man in a suit is slightly acceptable.

72. He could totally snap you in half but not without good reason. Come on, guys. He’s a nice guy. Scary, but nice.

73. Like, the dude cooks and gardens and whatnot. How is that not nice?

74. Also, I’m still hung up on the goat thing. Like I don’t deny that he could clone a goat but why on earth would he name it Bruce. Is it a Batman reference or something? I don’t understand this movie.

75. World wide manhunt? Pardon my doubt.

76. Superyacht? Owl star?

77. I get it. It’s a stupid pun.

78. I guess the South China Sea is close enough to Russia.

79. Again. Not an antiquities dealer.

80. Robberies? He ran a criminal empire!

81. Not sure how one would go about stealing the Rosetta Stone or why but sure.

82. I’ve never even heard of Boru’s Harp.

83. Nor the book of kells.

84. Why are you calling Butler Dom???

85. Yes! He is a criminal mastermind! Thank you for slightly acknowledging that!

86. Also, Artemis is not that rash.

87. He’s your dad and a criminal.

88. Why must Disney do this to my boy? He was an incredible character, smart, cunning, and a criminal and now he’s just a sort of smart kid. Lame.

89. I swear if this “raspy voice” is opal I will be so disappointed.

90. What is this? Artemis is supposed to be kidnapping fairies, not the other way around!

91. What is this Aculos and why should I care about it?

92. Also, why isn’t it Christmas? You could at least set it in winter. For crying out loud.

93. That isn’t word for word Artemis. I know you can remember it exactly.

94. I’m starting to think Orion is better than this fool.

95. Why is he wearing a hoodie?!??!???!

96. Just going to have a secret basement full of whatever secret stuff shoved in there because of course.

97. Also. As if butler would know about any of this.

98. Bunch of bottles of water. Okay.

99. ‘Cause Artemis Sr. totally knew about the fairies.

100. This is a stupid basement.

101. I’m so done with this.

102. Ah yes! An important journal! Predictable.

103. Stupid poem. Stupid way of finding the journal.

104. That was opal I see. I’m dying.

105. Beechwood. Isn’t that guy related to Holly or something? Also, not from the books.

106. Yes, Arty fairies exist. Surprising no one.

107. I like how they made the city look I suppose. And they kept the name the same. Of course, it must be noted that not all fairies live in haven. There are other cities.

108. Why is holly a baby? She shouldn’t look like a child. Also, tons of people have already spoken on holly’s appearance as well so I won’t say anymore.

109. Koboi mentioned. It was totally opal.

110. The fairies don’t look bad either. Though I don’t know if the little things are supposed to be goblins or what?

111. I guess not. These goblins also seem way too smart.

112. “You and I would make a great team” foreshadowing.

113. I do think mulch being taller is kinda funny.

114. Briar Cudgeon looks about how I expected. Do you think he’ll get his face melted?

115. Opal and Cudgeon working together. Unsurprising if a bit early.

116. You spy or you die. The CIA’s motto.

117. L.E.P. Recon. Nice.

118. I’m also not going to address the changing of roots gender and the fact that Holly is supposed to be the first female officer because again, many people have spoken at length about that. Still upset though.

119. Kelp and Verbil are around I see.

120. What is the Aculos? Like I get that it’s a weapon by why should I care?

121. Also, I think Root should be smoking.

122. Holly’s father? Why should he matter or even be a part of this?

123. They kept Holly 84. Good.

124. Reinforcements? Juliet?!!!!

125. She’s 12? She’s supposed to be sixteen! No!

126. Niece!!!! She’s supposed to be his sister.

127. Also, screw Disney for changing the fairy alphabet so we can’t read it.

128. Artemis should be able to decode it though. He’s not much of a genius, is he?

129. Foals needs a tinfoil hat and should look way way nerdier.

130. Troll! Time! Yeah!

131. Yeah! Lava chutes!

132. Foaly’s CGI is a little wonky but whatever.

133. So that’s why Holly’s father is important. Stupid.

134. The executors. You mean the council.

135. Don’t just fly over the surface unshielded, you dolt!

136. Butler your camouflage sucks ass.

137. Butler wouldn’t complain.

138. Butler’s eyes are freaking me out. No one’s eyes look like that.

139. The LEP helmets are stupid looking.

140. That isn’t what a troll looks like. Stop it, Disney.

141. Time Stop. Not a time freeze.

142. The magic looks cool.

143. That’s not how a time stop works. But at least it looks cool.

144. I suppose I can accept that’s how they do mind wipes.

145. “This is a strange wedding” is the best joke so far.

146. Why are none of the fairies shielded?

147. Holly has such boring motivation.

148. You shouldn’t just read your dad’s journal Arty. It’s rude.

149. I’m so over arty’s dad already knowing about the fairies as well as this beechwood fellow.

150. Why does this Aculos exist? If it’s so dangerous, why not get rid of it?

151. Opal Koboi. Finally.

152. Like Arty would ever dress like that. He’d still be wearing a suit and be spotless.

153. “They’re real.” No kidding!

154. Fox!

155. I’m surprised they included trying and succeeding to shoot holly.

156. Kinda wish they’d kept the bury an acorn to get magic thing but small fish and all.

157. Now it’s starting to remind me of the real Artemis Fowl story.

158. Cudgeon is slimy and annoying and I’m here for it.

159. That’s a shitty looking cage.

160. “Not happy” I wonder why?

161. Reflective glasses! Yes! Give me the fowl crew in cringey reflective sunglasses.

162. The Mesmer is done nicely. Love Juliet’s glasses.

163. A flannel and reflective sunglasses. That classic Artemis fowl look.

164. So he did decode their language.

165. The acting isn’t terrible.

166. Most humans are afraid of gluten how do you think they’d handle goblins is a good line.

167. Again. Not how time stops work but okay.

168. So let me get this right. Instead of the fairy bible which Artemis poisoned a fairy to get they just replaced it with his dad‘s journal. great.

169. Don’t give Artemis a weapon! He’s gonna cut his own arm off!

170. The time freeze does look cool though.

171. I can appreciate them gathering on the beach. That’s kinda cool.

172. Finally a suit! Get this kid properly clothed!

173. Though that tie is a little sus. Why’s it so skinny?

174. That fight scene wasn’t too bad. Again Arty is definitely not supposed to be good at anything physical but it’s whatever.

175. Flair for the dramatic? This is hardly as dramatic as the book.

176. I hate opal’s voice.

177. Waged war on your people? That was 10,000 years ago!

178. Opal’s motives are also super boring.

179. I’m sad we don’t get to see arty practicing his evil smile in the mirror.

180. In one of those pots. From under the rainbow. Fun.

181. Glad they kept the whole while I’m alive stipulation.

182. Glad to see the goblins still have fire powers.

183. These goblins really shouldn’t be so smart.

184. I hope we get to see mulch unhinge his jaw soon.

185. I do like mulch.

186. This heart to heart is stupid. Artemis wouldn’t trust holly just like that me thinks.

187. I like that mulch is up on all the human pop culture. I do wish he’d make a Gordon Ramsey reference though since he likes him.

188. Mulch not wanting to be tall is excellent character motivation though.

189. Now this is the heart to heart I needed.

190. Is he gonna unhinge his jaw?! I’ve been waiting for this the whole time!

191. Yeah!!!!!!

192. Eat that dirt!

193. Mulch!

194. “What would your parents be?”

195. A really really big dwarf.

196. Sick safe. Nothing mulch can’t handle.

197. That definitely isn’t what I expected from mulch’s hair but that’s okay.

198. Yeah! Holly punched Artemis! Now there just needs to be a lollipop remark.

199. Is that the Aculos? It looks stupid.

200. Also, I do appreciate the inclusion of the iris cam.

201. Opal, you’re so boring.

202. Cudgeon is taking over. Kinda wish it was of his own will because that’s more interesting but whatever.

203. Troll time part two. I doubt butler is going to almost die fighting it. Maybe he’ll wear a suit of armor though. That’d be cool.

204. How is it we’re an hour in and only just now get a d’arvit? Surely many other scenes warranted that.

205. I do like that mulch pickpocketed butler.

206. Don’t just stand in front of the door when A Troll is about to be sent in!

207. The wings do look really cool though.

208. Also, Juliet really shouldn’t be trying to fight a troll.

209. I mean. None of them should but you know.

210. Mulch eating the Aculos is very in character. I’m glad Artemis’s bedroom is being destroyed. It was terrible.

211. While I don’t care for the way the troll looks (Far too human, not enough claws and venom) the amount of destruction it’s causing is appropriate I feel.

212. I guess that’s how the fight can go.

213. Also, Juliet is so smart and strong yet she can’t pull herself over a ledge? Pathetic.

214. Don’t move butler to a completely different room! He’s got a back injury! You probably just made it worse!

215. Butler isn’t going to die. This is stupid.

216. Trouble doing the lords work.

217. I told you butler would be fine.

218. One of the times Butler would nearly die. If we’re following the books then more should follow.

219. Also what is this room they’re in?

220. Butler would not be ashamed to cry.

221. I’m living for everyone’s reactions to where mulch stored the Aculos.

222. I like the way it looks when they get grabbed by the time stop.

223. She’s gonna save Artemis. Obviously.

224. I like the way it looked when the time stop broke.

225. “Breaking every rule in the book” we haven’t even seen your book! Just his dad’s stupid journal.

226. He and holly should not be friends yet. He kidnapped her!

227. Ooh, forever friends how sweet! Get fucked. Both of you.

228. Now are we in Russia?

229. Opal annoys me so much.

230. So are you trying to tell me that this Aculos is the movie’s version of the book? Holly’s saying that poem.

231. This isn’t how magic is supposed to work.

232. >:(

233. I will admit it looked cool. Begrudgingly.

234. Your dad isn’t dead.

235. He’s in the secret basement that still exists for some reason.

236. Also, I didn’t note this before, but I doubt Arty ever called his dad, dad.

237. Opal is thwarted.

238. Why she so ugly looking? Pretty sure she was supposed to be pretty.

239. This is so stupid.

240. Opals accomplices, you mean those two dunderheads she had helping her?

241. How are there still fifteen minutes of this torture left?!

242. Again. Butler would not be ashamed to cry.

243. Just wait until Artemis gets magic of his own.

244. I’m so tired. It’s 12:14 at night and I just want this torture to end. Please god just let the credits roll already!

245. And now they’re famous. Whoop de do. Just tell us how mulch gets captured and escapes and end the movie. That’s all I ask.

246. You know he hasn’t been referred to as Artemis Fowl the Second throughout this whole disaster. What a slight to him.

247. Ray bans.

248. Oh yeah. Brag to opal. Great idea.

249. Criminal mastermind. Juvenile Genius. Same difference.

250. Why is his tie so skinny?

251. Is he gonna fly the helicopter?! Finally something in character!

252. Now just let mulch escape and finish this godforsaken nightmare!

253. Fowls? Protecting us? Pardon me while I laugh.

254. They do the unhinging of mulch’s jaw nicely.

255. And now they mission impossible him out of there. Perfect.

256. I’m dying. Let it be over. Please.

257. No more!

258. Fly off into the sunset. Of course.

259. Thank god! Credits! I’m free!

260. And another thing! They didn’t have the follow-up scene with Dr. Po! That would’ve been a way better ending! And you can’t just have one scene without the other!

#artemis fowl #artemis fowl movie #artemis fowl the second #artemis fowl the movie #hate

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constablewrites · 3 years

Text

In Which I Give Way Too Much Thought to the Sex Lives of Animated Characters

I’ve fallen off the wagon on my weekly posts here, because ::gestures vaguely at 2020:: It isn’t that I haven’t had observations to make, more that I lacked the particular motivation to actually write them up. But there’s one thing that can always drive me to the keyboard: getting nice and annoyed!

Star Wars Rebels is a deeply irritating show, mainly because when it is good, it is truly excellent, but there’s a lot of meh to wade through to reach those moments. It seems to be aimed at a younger audience than Clone Wars, and lacks that show’s advantages of both the well-established characters from the films and its urgent newsreel energy (because who needs Act I when Tom Kane can just yell exposition at you). There are a lot of interesting ideas and setups in Rebels that just never get properly explored, but the one I found most disappointing was the relationship between Kanan and Hera.

(Major spoilers after the cut. Go watch the show, it’s not terribly long and, as I said, the good stuff is really good.)

I was surprised by how much Kanan’s character grabbed me. Maybe it’s because I find the concept--someone who knows he’s unfit to be a mentor but has no choice but to fake his way through--to be highly relatable as an elder millennial, or maybe it’s just that I glom onto protector characters. He has great chemistry with Hera, and I am a shipper of the highest order. So when the final season started focusing on their romance, it should have been catnip for me.

Reader, it was not.

Oh, the interrupted kiss when they’re trying to get out of the city on Lothal is solid ship-tease stuff, to be sure. But then you get to 4x7 “Kindred” (not gonna link a video because I couldn’t find a good one and the damn things always get taken down later anyway). Kanan asks if she’s ever thought about their future together, Hera demurs and says that he knows how she feels. He isn’t so sure, so after a bit of cockblocking from the A-plot, she kisses him for the first time (that we see). The exchange is brief and doesn’t quite fit the established dynamic, but it’s fine.

The problem is, immediately after that kiss, she gets on a ship and leaves for rebel command. The next time Kanan sees her is the rescue mission that kills him. So for the [Babies Ever After] epilogue to make sense, one of these things must be true:

Force ghosts can fuck

They find time during the harrowing escape to sneak away and hook up

Hera is already pregnant when she leaves Lothal

Not only do the first two seem unlikely, but the third point works with most of the rest of the series. A show with such a young audience was probably never going to state outright that two characters are doing it, so they just have to imply it in ways that older viewers will pick up on: Hera calls Kanan “dear” in the very first episode. They talk to each other about things they don’t talk about with the rest of the crew. And Kanan being squirrelly on Ryloth? That isn’t a guy meeting the father of his best friend or even his crush, that is [recognizably] a guy meeting the father of the girl he’s boinking.

I don’t have a problem with a kids’ show not getting into detail about the love lives of its parental figures, and I honestly think more media should feature healthy, established couples. But I feel like the writers realized that they couldn’t show the impact Kanan’s death has on Hera if their relationship is entirely off-screen. So they did finally make it clear that this is a romance--but they did it in a way that makes it seem like the romance started right there at the end, since Hera’s unhappy “We’ve talked about this before” gives the impression that she’s turned him down in the past. And that just doesn’t add up. (Not to mention the sudden ramp-up makes it pretty obvious that one of them is gonna die.)

But this isn’t Fandom Bitching Wednesdays. Was there a way to do it differently?

Potential fix: Cut the kid. Probably the most straightforward, since that’s what creates the out-and-out plot hole Issues: Also the most depressing option. Kanan’s son is the thing that gives him a happy(ish) ending, allowing a part of him to live on beyond just the memories of his friends. Plus, it makes their interactions in the early seasons kinda confusing if they were never supposed to be in a relationship at all.

Potential fix: They were in a relationship but were very private about it and avoided any PDA around the rest of the crew. Conversation plays out more or less the same, but Hera’s reluctance to talk is because she’s aware that the others are watching, and the kiss is significant because she’s choosing not to hide anymore. Issues: My vote for most satisfying option, but would still benefit from a scene or two earlier in the series setting it up. Also means that if you wanted to keep the bit at the fuel depot where Hera tells Kanan she loves him as a big climactic moment, you would definitely need to establish why she’s never said it before. (Especially because she calls him “love” during the evacuation of Chopper Base.) There are plenty of options for this that would fit in with her character--perhaps something about her own parents, or how they’re in a war, or how she just thinks it’s less complicated if no one knows--but you would have to pick one and show it.

Potential fix: They were in a relationship but it wasn’t “serious,” or perhaps was even a strictly friends-with-benefits arrangement. So when Kanan is asking about their future, it’s not a new thing but an escalation, and builds more naturally toward Hera saying she loves him. Issues: This is how I tried to headcanon it initially, because it’s the only thing that makes any of it make sense as-is. And it’s easy to see how Kanan would have initially been happy with that setup (more on that in a second), but less so for Hera, with her pet names and talk of how they’re a family. As above, her reason for putting up that barrier, and for keeping it up this long, would need to be clearly established.

Potential fix: FWB but reverse this scene: Hera is the one who wants more and Kanan is resisting. I mean, come on guys, the “Jedi are forbidden to form attachments” thing was right there. It’s a stupid rule, but you have the opportunity for Kanan to acknowledge it as a stupid rule and reject it. Kanan is also exactly the kind of guy who would try to ride out the loophole of “It’s okay that I’m in love with her if I never say it or call her my girlfriend.” Variant: they were in a typical relationship but Kanan pulled back when he trained with Bendu to control his emotions, so what Hera wants isn’t something new, but rather what they had before. Issues: The dynamic of “girl wants romance, boy can’t express emotions” is pretty played out. The fact that Kanan broaches the topic by asking what would end her involvement with the Rebellion further adds an interesting angle that builds on stuff that’s been brought up before--war is all she’s ever known so she doesn’t shy from it, while he feels like he’s already survived one war and wants to be done with it--and you lose that if she’s the one who raises the question. It also follows that he would then be the one to say “I love you” at the fuel depot, which somewhat dampens the power of his sacrifice to say that for him.

Perhaps the real lesson here is that sometimes there aren’t any perfect solutions to story problems, just a series of trade-offs. This is especially true in a serialized medium, where part of the story might already be out there by the time you realize you would need to make changes to it to properly set up where you want to take it. If you missed the chance to show us a very important conversation, the best you can do might just be to reference that it happened and hope (in vain) that your audience will just roll with it instead of being nitpicky bastards.

And maybe Force ghosts just fuck, I dunno.

#star wars #star wars rebels #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #writing #writing advice #plot holes #tv tropes links #relationships #romance #writing lesson wednesdays #i feel like i'm a little late to this discourse #but that's honestly pretty on brand for me

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marybeatriceofmodena · 4 years

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Ben Solo’s Story Arc - An Autopsy

This will be the second post before I publish the full TROS review, mainly because it’s yet another thing I want to get out of the way first. After which, I’ll be posting an announcement about the future of this blog, but no worries – I’ll be sticking around.

After Rey and her parentage, I’ll be talking about Ben here specifically – mainly because I have a pretty big inkling that his plotline for TROS was mutilated, and that he initially actually had an arc.

Except, somewhere in the executive meddling, for reasons I myself am not sure of (okay, I got some theories but it’s pointless to share them here), it got cut.

The Rise of Kylo Ren might be an inkling that there was something more in the works, also that when it comes to its take on Snoke, it directly contradicts things TROS sets up. The simplest explanation is that the Lucasfilm Story Group had a hand in TRoKR, and not for TROS. But even then… the comic reveals things that make me BAFFLED they didn’t put that in the films. I don’t want to be that person who thinks 30 minutes of TLJ should have been dedicated to Snoke’s origins, but stuff like how Ben didn’t even destroy Luke’s Jedi Camp? THAT’S the kind of thing you need to include in your film.

Also, I 110% believe the rumors that JJ Abrams just ignored the Story Group’s existence entirely. Wanna know why? Just the fact that Exogol is established as the Sith world… when we know thanks to The Clone Wars that it’s Moraband – which would have been super easy to use. But fuck continuity I guess.

I will say though, I am NOT surprised it’s leaking out that the movie was severely tempered with and was constantly changing during production, simply because from my first (and only) viewing… I could tell something was wrong. Namely, I could tell that Ben’s arc had been mutilated – and the more I think about it, the more glaring it gets. It’s not even that I’m mad that Adam Driver (aka Golden Globe/Academy Award nominee Adam Driver) gets relegated to playing Darth Exposition for 75% of the film (and godawful exposition at that), it’s literally that so much of what remains of his arc makes no sense, and it affects Palpatine and Rey by extension.

I explained why Rey’s character arc was butchered here, and I’ve also talked about how Palpatine’s implication in her arc didn’t work either, so I won’t talk about it too much here, nor do you need to have read it prior in order to understand this post. I will also point out that a lot of what will be my speculation – so for all I know, I could be wrong, but I’m trying to fill in the holes here.

So, for starters… somehow, Ben knows that Palpatine is still alive. Somehow, he knows how to get to him. AND SOMEHOW, THE WRITERS DECIDED NOT EXPLAINING SHIT WAS THE WAY TO GO. This is not even on the level of not explaining who the fuck Snoke is in the two previous films – while I do think there could have been a throwaway line in TLJ, it didn’t “hinder” the story.

HOWEVER, not explaining how Palpatine is still around and kicking (well, he’s on life support so kicking might be a little too flattering), why he decided to reveal himself right there, right then, and how the hell Ben knows he’s around, how he figured out how to get to Exogol using the holocrons… THAT IS A BIG PROBLEM. This is the triggering element of the rising action in your story. But before you do that, YOU. NEED. EXPOSITION. TO. SET. UP. THE. CONTEXT. OF. YOUR. STORY.

What TROS did would be like skipping Finn’s intro when he’s with his Stormtrooper squad on Jakku, removing the interrogation with Poe and Kylo entirely, and just start TFA with him escaping with Poe without any explanation given. Oh, and also cut out Rey’s introduction as well, and we first meet her when she kicks Finn’s ass in Niima Outpost. You’d just have a bunch of characters coming out of nowhere, and you’d have no frigging clue what they’re doing, and what they want. And that’s what TROS does with Ben and Palpatine.

Take the handling of Snoke, for instance. I’d be a lot more mad about the Snoke retconning if it wasn’t for… what I’m going to call the “Snoke Stew” (and I’d crack a joke about how it was probably made with the DNA of a guy called Stu, which is not funny but still funnier than most of the jokes in TROS). That’s pretty much the one thing that stops me from being mad, because of how STUPID it is.

But the explanation for Snoke’s origins just… retcons so much that has been established before, INCLUDING INFO FROM A COMIC THAT CAME OUT AFTER TROS. We knew Snoke had a past, even if we weren’t privy to it yet. We did kind of know that he was a rich guy, like all the shitty rich people we saw in Canto Bight, who happened to be a Dark Sider and was seemingly smart enough to kill his way to the top. Considering how exploitative the First Order is when it comes to resources and that a rich patron would be welcomed with open arms, it makes sense.

With the explanation given by TROS, it just provides a fuck ton of plotholes to the fact he took over the First Order while killing off old Imperial higher-ups to establish himself as Supreme Leader. Do you really think a guy in a golden bathrobe would just be able to take over out of fucking nowhere because he killed all the higher-ups? No. And even if some of the higher-ups knew that Snoke was a Palps plant (like Pryde seems to), I doubt Ben would have stayed Supreme Leader for as long as a year.

But that’s not even the biggest problem! Seriously, I don’t know if Palps is senile in this film, because we got an ENTIRE trilogy explaining how the guy is one of the worst evil masterminds to have ever lived, in the Galaxy Far Far Away and even in today’s culture. Here, you don’t even understand what the fuck he even wants! I’m “guessing” he fucked with Ben to get his revenge on Anakin, because he uses Ben as his lackey while being seemingly totally oblivious that Ben is working against him (what happened to “every voice in your head”???). He wants Ben to kill Rey… while knowing Rey is his granddaughter, and while telling her when she shows up that he wants to use her as a new host or some shit. Seriously, MAKE UP YOUR MIND ALREADY.

This said… I honestly wonder if Ben was initially meant to be the new host, and not Rey. Because not only that was an actual theory I had pre-TROS, but it would make a shit ton more sense than having Rey be the host – not to mention it’d be the ultimate revenge against Anakin (and if you want to get REAL yucky, he may have planned to have Rey be his new consort, but I’ll spare you more speculation about that aspect). But nah, I guess.

The most damning thing in all this is that there’s no difference in Ben’s overall behavior and actions AFTER Snoke has been killed, when it’s clear Snoke was the biggest influence on him. Saying that Palpatine just kept messing with him makes no sense because with Snoke dead, any voice Ben would still hear would make him go “NOPE” and do exactly the opposite of what said voice tells him to do.

Like, for real, with Snoke dead, unless he’s REALLY stupid (I mean… Ben is reckless, but not stupid), why would Ben do anything a now Random Voice would tell him to do?

The thing is, there have been hints in previous material that Ben isn’t exactly 110% on board with what the First Order does. He’s clearly against blowing up planets, he snarks about how Stormtroopers should be clones instead – which could just be a throwaway snarky line, but considering Ben’s past… I can see him not being too fuzzy about the Stormtrooper program. Like, I’m not saying he’d start a Galactic Free Donut Day, but there would be a change. It wouldn’t be Business as Usual – especially that Ben wasn’t that young (23) when he joined Snoke, and it’s a little hard to go from “My uncle tried to kill me in my sleep and I’m going towards the one figure I think can protect me” to “Blowing up planets and enslaving people is the way to go”. It would have worked if Ben had been brainwashed from his teens, but not so much as an adult – hence you need a little more nuance with Supreme Leader Kylo Ren.

Oh yeah, and the Knights of Ren? They’re just there to look cool. “But they kidnapped Chewie!” Yeah, what was the fucking point of them kidnapping Chewie apart from giving a reason for the Beautiful Friendship Gang to get on the Star Destroyer and give us fake suspense because we all know how it’s gonna end, just end my suffering already. Also, NO INTERRACTION WITH BEN? DID YA FORGET CHEWIE IS LIKE, HIS UNCLE? DID YALL FORGET BEN WAS PART OF YOUR FAMILY OR…

Seriously, that sequence on Pasaana where they’re just standing there on top of a fucking mountain? I called that part the Backdesert Boys. That tells ya how much I hated it.

Oh yeah, and they’re fighting fodder for Benny Boy in the end, because of course they were Palps’ lackeys all along, can’t think of anything else that’s more imaginative.

So what could they possibly add to Ben’s arc, that would explain so much, like how Ben finds Palpatine, or how he’s always one step ahead from the Beautiful Friendship Gang in their Wild Goose Chase no one fucking cares about?

This is where I got into speculation/conspiracy theory territory. Brace yourselves.

So, the film has Lando reveal that he and Luke “knew” about Palps being around thanks to snooping around… except that makes no bloody sense. Lando was never involved in a Force plot of any kind, and he was never that close to Luke anyway. I mean, Lando’s a nice guy and all, but he’s not really besties with Luke – he’s Han’s friend.

So that research should have taken place either before Ben joined Luke at Jedi Camp, either after. Then again, before would make no sense, because why would Luke leave that critical of a search on the ice for 10 to 15 years? The only place where I can place it in time, where it would make logical sense… would be when Ben was around, and it’d make WAY more sense to have him be Luke’s sidekick in that search.

It would have totally explained why Luke freaked the fuck out reading Ben’s mind, because only Palpatine can give her that severe of a PTSD-like reaction. It would have totally explained why Ben would run to Snoke, grooming and desperation set aside, under the promise that they’d associate to defeat Palps, because if you ignore the plot hole extravaganza of TROS, you’d bet Snoke wouldn’t want Palps anywhere near his throne – mainly because Snoke is a wannabe Palpatine who targeted Ben to get his own Vader. It would have totally explained why Ben thought becoming Supreme Leader is a good idea – even if it’s morally wrong, it makes logical sense. It would have totally explained why Kylo was collecting Sith artefacts in the year gap while keeping in mind he made his distaste for the Sith clear in TLJ. It would have totally provided the audience (and Rey) a good reason to forgive Ben, because even if he had godawful methods, he wanted to do the right thing and save the galaxy from the person who came this close to destroying them, as well as his family. That would have provided for him the means to realize that he cannot defeat Palpatine using Palpatine’s means – as Rose said, he’ll win by saving what he loves, and not destroying what he hates. That would have made Rey the glitch in the matrix, who must join forces with Ben because without her, he would have been doomed despite his best efforts.

And before you tell me that would have been unnecessary… let me put it to you this way. Ben keeps saying it's too late, and if it was just that, it could be interpreted as him thinking he went too far to come back. But he also adds that he has "something to do", and I'm here waving my arms like "WHAT? WHY? FUCK, YOU DIDN'T EVEN KILL YOUR FELLOW STUDENTS!!! THEY'RE NOT EVEN BOTHERED TO SAY THAT IN THE ACTUAL FILM!!!"

Hence why my theory is the simplest way to just tie it all neatly together, without retconning anything. There.

IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SUPER SIMPLE TO DO. Except that, as I mentioned earlier, they mutilated Ben’s arc, and left him to play the part of Darth Exposition, until the very end, when they have Ben save what he loves… but even then, I can’t even appreciate that either, because it happens in a way that makes EVERYONE look horrible, while Ben is, from a storytelling perspective, a saint… a saint everyone ultimately forgot about.

#star wars #tros spoilers #the rise of skywalker spoilers #rants and reviews #anti tros #tros negativity #kylo ren #ben solo #reylo #my meta #reylo meta #ben solo meta #kylo ren meta

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spectraspecs-writes · 3 years

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Tatooine - Chapter 108

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 107. Chapter 109.

@averruncusho @ceruleanrainblues @chubbsmomma @strangepostmiracle thank you for reading, you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for support, you get a tag.

——–

I find myself waking up early, far earlier than I meant. But then I’m amazed I got to sleep at all, or even stayed asleep. The nightmares were awful, but I couldn’t wake up. I felt like I was being suffocated by that mask but I couldn’t pull it off. Revan’s mask. My mask. No. No. Revan’s mask. Because I’m not Revan, I don’t know what she knows, she doesn’t know what I know. Or knew - what she knew. I’m a scout. Revan was a killer. A murder. A Sith Lord. I’m not Revan. I’m not.

T3 stayed with me the whole night after Carth changed our course. And the engine isn’t making any noise, so I guess we’re here. Tatooine.

And it’s morning. I suppose I should go check, shouldn’t I?

The cockpit is empty. Carth’s not there. He’s not in the main hold, either. And I don’t sense him in the port side quarters. I guess he left. Not that I blame him.

I’ve got to get out of here. But not like this. Not these robes. This isn’t me. I’m not a Jedi, I’m a scout. And out there is a world I haven't explored. All I looked for was the Star Map. All I cared about was the Star Map. But this is not a dead world. Not even a desert is dead. Where there is life, there is water, and where there is water, there is life. That’s one of the first things you learn as a scout.

But did I even learn it? If I’m Revan, then…

No. No.

A Jedi robe does not a good scouting outfit make. The copious lack of pockets alone makes it a poor choice. I tie up my hair so it’s off my neck, and pull out a soft white tunic. And my vest. I’m torn between shorts for the heat and pants to fight the sand, but I eventually settle on a loose pair of pants and sturdy boots. I keep only a single lightsaber in my pack, opting for my swords instead. I’m not a Jedi. I'm a scout. A lightsaber is a weapon. A sword is a tool, far more versatile in use. I have my sunglasses. Now all I need is my droid. T3 doesn’t need much prompting. Like he doesn’t want to leave my side.

Much as I hate it, Czerka is the only game in town. They’re the only ones sending people into the desert. I could go alone, but that’s not a good idea. The clients always have insurance if something happens - it’s in your contract. They pay for whatever you find, even if all you find is pain. You never go out alone. I need to be myself, even if that means taking one job with Czerka.

This is good. I missed this. Missed my vest. Missed myself. But it isn’t myself, is it? Who the hell even am I? I remember being a Republic scout, I remember turning over rocks, discovering insects I’d never seen before. Watching eggs hatch and documenting what I saw. Seeing lemurs hang from trees by prehensile tails. Leaves no one had ever seen, trees no one had ever seen! I remember finding a hot springs on Utapau! Spending the nights on the rocks while we analyzed water quality, microbial landscapes, geological makeup, or just plain swimming! Are those memories even real? Do those insects even exist? Those eggs, those lemurs, those leaves, those trees? Is there a hot springs on Utapau? Where did the data come from? What was real?

But I know. Whether any of that was real or not, anything I see today, anything I find today will be real. Anyone I meet today will be real. My memories here will be real. Maybe I wasn’t a scout before. But I will be today.

I step into the Czerka office - the same representative is there from the last time. “Greetings from the offices of Czerka Corporation.” The disgust I feel is thankfully different than the disgust I’ve been feeling for myself. “How can I help you?”

I pull up my Republic file, my fake scouting record. Doesn’t feel fake. “I’m a scout,” I say, “with a specialty in ecology and droid repair. Do you have any expeditions going out?”

She hums a bit, reading over my record. “According to this, the Republic holds your contract. Czerka corporation has no interest in any legal disputes with the Republic.”

“You won’t have to worry about that,” I assure her, “The Republic violated my contract, and the mission I was on came to an abrupt end when the Sith destroyed the ship I was on.

She hums again. “I suppose that is a risk when your employer is at war.” Tell me about it. “For long-term employment, however, you would have to fill out an application with Czerka headquarters. Business hours only, please.”

“I’m not looking for long-term contract negotiation,” I say, “This is just for a one-off freelance gig.”

“I don’t think our teams would have much use for an ecologist,” she says, looking back at my file, “but I am interested in your technical skills.” Better than nothing, I guess. “Our mining teams have had difficulty keeping the machinery functioning. As I’m sure you know, sand has a tendency to interfere with machinery. How soon would you be able to start?”

“I’m willing to head out now,” I say, “What’s the pay rate?”

“When you return at the end of the day, you will receive 150 credits.” She transfers a file to my datapad. “This is a standard contract. It stipulates that Czerka corporation is not liable for any harm sustained on the Dunes. Any disputes you may have with Czerka Corporation will be settled through binding arbitration. When you return to this office you will receive 150 credits in exchange for your work.” I don’t expect any problems, nothing I can’t deal with. And despite what she says, you can’t absolve yourself of all liability when you send out scouting teams. It’s been galactic law for the past two hundred years or so and there are scouting organizations who take it very seriously. Czerka tries to skirt the law but it never lasts. Scouts who know what they’re doing hold them to it, or threaten to call in the authorities. And Czerka tries to keep all that on the down-low, paying off officials, making donations, counting on the ignorance of the people signing the contracts. If I was doing anything other than a one-off gig… well, actually, you should just shoot me if this was anything other than a one-off gig. But anyway, if it were anything but that, I’d get into it myself. No one is expendable and they can’t pretend to be ignorant of the hell they’d catch if they tried to say otherwise. Even so, I sign the contract but I’m not even sure it’s legally binding. Rena Visz doesn’t exist. I’d have to sign Revan’s name but I don’t know what it is.

Nope. Nope. Nope, I don’t want to think about that.

“Excellent,” she says as I transfer the signed contract back, “There's a speeder outside - input your datapad and it’ll direct you to a set of coordinates. You’ll meet one of our mining teams there.”

And that’s that. I load T3 into the pilot’s side of the speeder and input my datapad, like she said, and off we go, onto the Dune Sea. The speeder takes us past the Czerka marker points, past even the Star Map. I can feel it calling out to me as we pass it. And it feels different, so different, from how it felt… oh God, it was barely last week. It felt like such a long time, so much has happened. I met Jolee, Bastila and Canderous got together, Kashyyyk was liberated, Carth’s son, Carth… Carth! That happened! That happened two days ago! And now… he probably hates me now. And I can’t say I blame him. If T3 wasn’t driving, I would have stopped. Because its call is so loud, so strong. And I can’t tell if it’s calling for Rena or Revan. But T3 drives on, and with distance the call fades. It doesn’t go away but it fades.

The speeder pulls up to a cave and slows to a stop. The sand is different out here. Still sand, of course, and a very fine sand, at that, but it’s dirty,. Soot and smoke from the machines. Polluted. To think what this sand could have given with care. Something like this doesn’t happen naturally. There’s nothing I could do about the state of this world now. As if anyone would listen to me if I could. Not even the Sand People, I think - they would surely feel the same way, but I can never know the same as they do. They should be the ones to rehabilitate the planet. I am only another outsider with an opinion. And besides, this is a stable state now, any massive changes, if not done slowly and carefully, could just as easily land the world in a worse state as it could a better one. And it’s not my place.

I have to assume it’s the site foreman who comes up to me. I get T3 out of the speeder. “You the Czerka droid tech?” he asks.

“Droid tech, yes, Czerka, no, but suffice it to say I’m here to help,” I say.

He chuckles. “You hate the bastards, too, huh?” he asks rhetorically, and I shrug and nod. “I don’t know why we're still out here, the ore’s no good, and the machines hardly work with all the sand. You’ve got your work cut out for you with fixing.”

“I’m hoping for it,” I say, “in fact, I’ve got something that should make everything easier.”

“What? You’ve got a way to teleport us off this rock?”

“I wish,” I say. I set my pack down on the speeder and open it. I’ve got an old shirt in here. “The machines stop working because sand gets into the vents and clogs with the gears and the works. Close off the vents and the machine overheats, but leave them open and the sand gets in and they’re useless.” There’s the shirt. “So what you need is a way to keep the sand out and prevent overheating. And we’re gonna do it the same way the animals do.”

“But that fabric will hold the heat in,” he objects.

I scoff. “Yeah,” I say sarcastically, “because I’m stupid.” I indicate T3. “Check out his vents - does he look like he’s overheating?”

He stoops to look. Sees the fabric under the vents, and around the joints. “I don’t believe this.”

“Then watch me. Got a machine down?”

He indicated a machine near the mouth of the cave. “Just pulled it out a little while ago. Started sputtering and smoking. We’re down to just one - if that one craps out, we’re stuck mining by hand.”

Easy enough. “T3, help me get this open.” T3 has a laser cutter, and he carefully lasers off the seal on the large access panel. I can pop it open with my panel tool once the seal’s off. Tool, panel, open - yep, the wires are loaded with sand. I shut the vents off, because the first step is to get the sand out, and I don’t want it getting to other parts of the machinery. Too big to tip over and dump out, so I get in and sweep.

This is a good feeling. I can do something with this, and the machine won’t care who I am or what I’ve done. Won’t care that I had no idea who I was when I woke up this morning and I still don’t. Won’t care that I can’t help but hate myself for atrocities I don’t even remember committing. Won’t care that I have two people in my head, two sets of memories even if I can’t access one set, and no way to reconcile them. Because I can fix this. And even better? Revan can’t take this away from me. Because I invented sand shields, not Revan.

Okay. Sand’s all out. I tear the fabric to a more reasonable size, popping the panel closed with my foot and T3 welds it shut again. The vent should be… there we go. Doing this outside could prove a little tricky, more sand could get in while I’m putting the cover on. Quick work is needed. I pull my vest off and use it to cover the majority of the vent, except for the bolts, which I set to work getting off. Once the bolts are off, I quickly whisk the vent cover off and put the fabric in its place. Then I put the cover back on, and replace the bolts. “That should be good for most of the time. It might need replacing after a sandstorm, but as you could see it wasn’t that difficult to do,” I say to the foreman, “And this is more basic that what T3 has, but like I said. It gets the job done.”

Still skeptical, the foreman turns the machine on. With a healthy whir it comes to life. He comes around to the vent and holds his hand in front of it. Waiting. A few seconds later, he looks at me, then back, then me, then back again. “I can feel air coming out,” he says simply, surprised, “This… but it’s so simple! But it works!” He turns the machine back off. “This could solve half our problems. This is great. Did you come up with this?”

Yes, as a matter of fact, I… wait.

I… I remember.

No.

“The sandstorms aren’t the worst of it, Master Jedi.” Someone said that. A long time ago. “It’s the sand. It chokes out the machinery. Our engineers tell us there’s nothing they can do to stop it, but it’s leaving us like sitting ducks out there.”

“And the Mandalorians don’t have the same problems?” That’s me. That’s my voice. But… not me. No.

“Not that we’ve seen, though damned if we know why.”

“Maybe they’re using a different power source,” Hanna said. Who’s Hanna? She was my best friend, but who was she? I don’t know. I don’t know.

But a thought struck me. I don't know why or how. But it came to me. Revan. Me. Revan. She pulled her robe off and tore it. “The insides of the machines are sealed up tight, with no way in or out. Except the vents.” She pulled out her lightsaber. Green one. Held it on the metal, where it met the fabric. The metal melted and fused with the fabric, and when she removed her lightsaber it cooled and the fabric stayed. Sand shields. The very first sand shields. And she must have refined the process… because that looks exactly the same as the sand shields on Hk-47. Revan built HK. I built HK.

“No,” I finally say, “I didn’t.” Because she took it from me. Revan took this from me. That was my accomplishment, something that I did, something I achieved and she took it from me. My stomach turns. This is going to be the rest of my life - every single thing I’ve ever done, every good thing that’s ever happened to me, poisoned by Revan. I’ve done nothing. Revan has. Nothing good ever happened to me. It happened to Revan. Carth was the only good thing and Revan spoiled that too. I can’t have anything. Revan will only take it away.

I don't feel so good.

I fall to my knees and retch into the sand. I can’t stop it. Everything hurts. Everything burns. “Get some water!” the foreman shouts, “She’s got sun sickness!”

“It’s not sun sickness,” I manage to say, forcing the words out.

“I’m not willing to take that chance,” he says, “I’ve lost more than a few miners to sun sickness, I’m not about to risk another.”

“I’ll be fine,” I repeat, “It’s not sun sickness, I’m positive.”

“Oh, yeah, doctor?” he says sarcastically, “Then what else could it be?”

Well… there really is no way to tell a perfect stranger you used to be a Sith Lord and it’s destroying your life. So I shake my head a bit. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

He doesn’t believe me. He hands me some water. “Drink this slowly. And let’s get you back to Anchorhead.”

“You send all your miners back to Anchorhead when this happens?”

“You’re not one of my miners. You’re from the company, and in their eyes you matter more than these miners.” T3 gets loaded into the speeder first, then the foreman helps me in. Makes me feel even more like shit now - not only did Revan take sand shields away from me, she’s taking away what could have been a good day’s work. I wasn't even out here for an hour!

I try my hardest not to cry. No one would get it anyway, and I’d just come off as a pitiful little girl. Because it turns out none of my memories of dealing with that are real and I have no idea how Revan would have dealt with that. Because it turns out that at heart I’m a terrible person even though I don’t want to be.

“I know it doesn't seem like it,” the foreman says, “but you did a lot of good today. Those machines are a lifesaver for my miners. If even just one of them keeps working because of this, you’ve saved us a lot of pain.”

Maybe so. But none of that makes up for all the pain Revan caused. There is a massive debt of blood owed that Revan accrued, that I could hardly begin to pay back. I've already, personally, accrued a debt, but it was easy to justify - I was trying to stop Malak, stop the war, and in doing so would save countless lives. But Revan started the war. Revan is responsible for the deaths of billions, Republic and Sith. Not even counting the Mandalorians from the last war! Saving the lives and limbs of a handful of miners doesn’t begin to make up for that.

When we get back to Anchorhead, the foreman tells me to wait in the speeder, so I do. He’s gone for maybe five minutes before he comes back. “You’ll find 250 credits transferred to you,” he says, “She wasn’t happy about it, but you saved the company way more than that, so I persuaded her to increase your cut.” He gets T3 out of the speeder while I pull myself out. “I’ll make sure the rest of our machines get shielding under the vents. And thanks again, really.” And he speeds away, back to the mine.

I don’t want to go back to the Hawk. I don’t want to go to Manaan. I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t. Maybe I can get passage on a freighter out of here. Actually join the Republic scouting corps. Or, hell, maybe the Sith. Mandalorian. Aratech. Free-lance - just to actually do something. To feel something other than hatred and anger. Because there’s no way I could hope to make up for all the shit I’ve done that I don’t even remember. Not by finding the Star Map, not by ending the war, nothing. And staying and doing all that only increases the chance that I’ll hurt the people I care about. The only way to avoid that is to just… go. Run away. Take T3 and just go.

I find myself at the cantina. That feels about right. So I go in. “Hey!” the bartender shouts to me, "You can’t bring that droid in here. It’ll have to wait outside.”

Oh, hell, no. I’m not leaving him. And I think I could get away with a little intimidation. I look at a bottle resting on the bar. Reach out with the Force and lift it high above his head. “How about now?”

He looks from the bottle, to me, to T3, and back to the bottle. Decides it’s not worth it to argue. “Just don’t cause any trouble.” I gently set the bottle back down and take a seat.

#knights of the old republic #star wars #star wars kotor #fiction #autistic artist #specs writes stuff #kotor fic #chapter 108 #rena visz #oc #fem!revan #ls!revan #t3-m4 #tatooine

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