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abusybuzzingbee · 4 years

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Pilot | Supernatural Season 1 Episode 1 Rewrite | Dean x Reader

A/N:::: Hello!! I am a royal dumbass and just accidentally deleted my whole tumblr. I was trying to get rid of my main account and accidentally got rid of it all!! So, this is bee from @abusybuzzingbee coming back at you with reuploads of my supernatural rewrites. So sorry to all of my supporters for my tomfoolery.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Major Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Sam Winchester

Warnings: Canon violence, language, Dean and the reader being assholes to each other, this is going to be the slowest burn that ever did burn, so buckle up!

Word Count: 7,643

Summary: The reader is a lonely young hunter on the road to Jericho, California where she bumps into two boys on the search for their father.

Series Rewrite Masterlist

Season 1 Masterlist

It was an early morning yesterday

I was up before the dawn.’

‘Funny how the sun’s just rising,’ you thought.

‘And I really have enjoyed my stay

But I must be moving on.’

The sound of the familiar tune of “Goodbye Stranger” coming from the radio of your new hijacked wheels-- a 2002 Toyota Camry, to be exact-- put a smile on your face.

‘Like a king without a castle

Like a queen without a throne

I’m an early morning lover

And I must be moving on.’

As you drove along a remote highway on the way to Jericho, California, you threw a glance to the wind lightly rustling the leaves of the trees outside of your driver’s side mirror.

‘Now I believe in what you say

Is the undisputed truth.’

Scenes such as this have always calmed you. The first beams of light stretching up from over the horizon, the vivid colors of the tree leaves, the hum of the radio of your newest car, and the sound of your tires gliding over the pavement.

‘But I have to have things my own way

To keep me in my youth.’

These road trips in between hunts were the only taste you had ever had of a normal life. Not that you wanted a normal life, you think you would be too bored in the suburbs. However, it is comforting to have a small break from monsters while driving from place to place to relax.

‘Like a ship without an anchor

Like a slave without a chain

Just a thought of those sweet ladies

Sends a shiver through my veins.’

The latest case you had picked up on was the disappearance of several men on Centennial Highway in Jericho.

‘And I will go on shining

Shining like brand new

I’ll never look behind me

My troubles will be few.’

The last disappearance had been some kid named Troy. Poor bastard.

You had very little knowledge of what you were walking into. You decided that you would head to the scene of the crime to try and get a better idea of what you were dealing with.

‘Goodbye stranger

It’s been nice

Hope you find your paradise

Tried to see your point of view

Hope your dreams will all come true.’

Just a few more hours and you’d be there.

‘Goodbye Mary, goodbye Jane--’

You turned the music up just a bit as you picked up your speed on the highway and thought about my last successful hunt in Alexandria, Louisiana.

‘Will we ever meet again?’

You were proud of how you did on that hunt, but it was freeing to leave towns you had previously hunted in in your rearview mirror.

‘Feel no sorrow, feel no shame--’

It wasn’t a matter of feeling guilty about what you had done while you were in that town; you had nothing to feel guilty about. It just always hurt you to think of the sad faces of the people who had already lost family members before you got there to do your job.

‘Come tomorrow, feel no pain--’

There would always be that little bit of trauma that you carried with you because of all you had seen on hunts, but c’est la vie.

‘Sweet devotion (Goodbye, Mary)

It’s not for me (Goodbye, Jane).’

You let your mind go blank and get completely absorbed in the music as you continued to drive along.

‘Just give me motion (Will we ever)

To set me free (Meet again?)’

Music was the one constant in your life that kept you grounded. It was so powerful. Music could express so many feelings and bring those same emotions out of its listeners.

‘In the land and the ocean (Feel no sorrow)

Far away (Feel no shame)--’

You loved oldies music. From ‘70′s hippie music to ‘80′s rock, all the way back to Edith Piaf in the 1940′s.

‘It’s the life I’ve chosen (Come tomorrow)

Every day (Feel no pain)’

You wished you had the time to sit down for long enough to learn to play an instrument. There was a whole list of things you wanted to learn to play including piano, guitar, ukelele, and drums.

‘Maybe one day,’ you thought.

‘So goodbye, Mary (Goodbye, Mary)

Goodbye, Jane (Goodbye, Jane)

Will we ever (Will we ever)

Meet again? (Meet again?)’

****

A few hours later, you were parked on Sylvania Bridge in Jericho. You had stopped a few miles back at a gas station to change into an outfit that looked a little more professional than a pair of baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt and opted for one of the many police uniforms you carried around with you. This one was a federal marshal suit. Included the khakis, shirt with a little police badge on the pocket, and a belt with your fake badge on it. It was your mom’s. She threw herself into the many roles she played on the job and made sure she had the costumes to fit the part. Once she passed, you just couldn’t let them go.

You hopped out of the car and walked over to the scene of the crime. You noticed two boys that looked about my age talking to one of the deputies on site. You watched them flash badges to the deputy, but neither was in uniform.

‘Oh, boy.’

"You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?” you heard the deputy remark as you walked up to them.

“Thanks, that’s awfully kind of you,” the shorter guy laughed.

'That’s my cue,’ you thought.

“Hiya, fellas,” you smiled brightly, glancing between the three of them.

The two guys turned back to look at you. The shorter one pointed at himself with a questioning look on his face directed at you. You eyed him, attempting to tell him to just go with it.

“Why aren’t you two in uniform?” you asked, standing next to the taller boy and glancing between the two of them. You looked at the deputy. “Sorry to have them bothering you. New hires,” you lied, rolling your eyes. “I’m supposed to oversee how they handle this case.”

“Mm-hmm...” the deputy said, squinting at you. He was clearly suspicious.

I extended my right hand to the deputy and reached for my badge with the other. “I’m Agent Nicks, nice to meet you.” I showed him my badge.

“Deputy Jaffe.” He shook my hand and nodded at my badge.

“Man, you guys can’t catch a break. You just had another killing like this, right?” I nodded my head at Troy’s car at the center of the crime scene as I spoke.

“Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that,” the deputy spoke as I walked over to the car, the two boys trailing behind me.

“So, this victim, you knew him?” The taller boy questioned.

The deputy nodded. “Town like this, everybody knows everybody.”

The shorter boy circled the car once and stopped between the taller boy and I. “Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?” he asked.

“No,” Jaffe answered, “Not so far as we can tell.”

“So what's the theory?” The taller guy asked.

“Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?”

“Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys,” the shorter guy quipped.

Your eyes widened as you watched the deputy’s incredulous expression. You didn’t like this kid already. You bit back a snicker when the dude who was with him stomped on his foot.

“Thank you for your time. Gentlemen,” the tall guy nodded.

You turned to follow your two “colleagues” away from the crime scene. The shorter guy smacked the taller one on the back of the head.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Why'd you have to step on my foot?”

“Why do you have to talk to the police like that?”

The two men realized you were following them and turned to look at you.

“Uh, can we help you?” the shorter one asked.

“No,” you replied. “I’ll be out of your hair in a second. I just think it’d be a little weird if I left the scene of the crime without regrouping with my ‘proteges’ first.”

The taller one nodded. It became clear to you he was the sensible one of the two.

“About that--” the shorter one came back, implying that you should explain yourself.

“Yeah, sorry for stepping all over your hunt.”

The two seemed in disbelief that you had figured out their secret.

“Takes one to know one,” You snickered. “I had to get the same information you two did, and it’d look really weird if two rounds of federal marshals came through for one case. I’m (Y/N), by the way.” You stuck out your hand for the two of them to shake.

The taller one took it first. “I’m Sam,” he smiled, “that’s my brother, Dean.”

You shook Dean’s hand after Sam’s.

“You shake hands?” Dean asked.

You shrugged with a tilt of your head to the side.

“Weird.”

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well,” you sighed, “I got this hunt under control if you boys wanna hit the road.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, lady,” Dean started, “We were here first.”

“Geez, sorry. I thought I was doing you guys a favor by letting you hit the road.”

“Sorry,” Sam spoke for his brother, “We’re looking for our dad. The only information we have on where he could be is here, so we’ve got this covered.”

You nodded. “I hope you find him soon. Good meeting you two.” You turned to leave.

“Wait,” Sam called after you. “Three heads are better than two. We could use your help.”

Dean was quick to cut in. “No, no we do not--”

“What?” you asked, smirking. “You don’t like me Dean-o?”

He opened his mouth to respond, obviously trying to think of something to say. He came up blank after a few seconds.

You chuckled. “I’m down to help.”

Sam smiled brightly at you. “Great!”

You glanced over Sam’s shoulder and your jaw clenched. Sam turned to follow your gaze.

The sheriff was talking to two FBI agents. He looked at you three pointedly. “Can I help you kids?”

“No, sir, we were just leaving,” Dean told him. He then nodded at the FBI agents as they walked past your trio. “Agent Mulder. Agent Scully.”

The three of you headed past the sheriff, whose gaze you could feel piercing through your back.

You noticed the 1967 Impala parked a little farther back than your car, wondering how you could have missed it when you pulled up to the scene.

“Aw, cool!” you exclaimed, quickly walking over to it. “Sweet ride.” You ran your hand over the hood.

“Hey,” Dean called, “Hands off my baby.”

“You dating a car, Grumpy?” you smirked.

He rolled his eyes at you.

“Those your wheels over there?” Sam asked. He nodded towards your Camry.

“Unfortunately. Had to jack that car a few states back,” you responded.

Sam nodded. “You can catch a ride back with us if you want.”

Dean tossed a look at his brother.

“Cool, thanks,” you answered, smiling. “Let me just pull it off the road into some trees or something.”

***

"Who are we looking for again?” you asked the boys as you strolled around town. You had ditched your federal marshal getup and left it along with the rest of your stuff in the back of Dean’s car.

Dean scoffed at your question.

“Hey, you didn’t answer the first time I asked, so I had to do it again,” you threw back.

“Troy’s girlfriend,” Sam answered.

“Thank you, Sam.” You threw a pointed look at Dean. He just turned his face away from you.

A few paces down from your pack, a young girl with brown hair was putting missing posters up with Troy’s face on them.

"I'll bet you that's her,” Dean pointed out.

“Yeah,” Sam affirmed.

Your group walked up to her as Dean spoke, “You must be Amy.”

“Yeah,” she answered plainly.

“Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles. I'm Dean, this is Sammy.”

“And who’s that?” Amy glanced at you.

“I’m (Y/N). A friend of theirs.”

Amy nodded, looking back to Sam and Dean. “He never mentioned you to me.” She began to walk away with her posters.

Dean was quick to follow her. “Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto.”

“So, we're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around,” Sam continued for Dean.

A friend of Amy’s came up to her and asked, “Hey, are you okay?”

Once Amy responded with a simple, “Yeah,” her friend stayed with her.

"You mind if we ask you a couple questions?” I asked Amy.

***

You, Amy’s friend, Rachel, and Amy were packed into one side of a diner booth while Sam and Dean sat opposite you.

Amy spoke about what happened the night Troy went “missing.” “I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did.”

“He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?” Sam asked.

Amy shook her head. “No. Nothing I can remember.”

You glanced at the pentagram pendant she was wearing. “I like your necklace.”

“Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents with all that devil stuff,” Amy laughed.

You smiled. “Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing.”

“Okay,” Dean cut in. “Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries.”

You rolled your eyes at him while he took his arm off of the back of Sam’s seat and leaned forward on his elbows. “Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything...” he trailed off, waiting for them to answer.

Amy and Rachel glanced between each other.

“What is it?” Dean asked.

“Well, it's just,” Rachel began, “I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk."

“About?” You questioned turning a bit more inward to Rachel.

“It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago,” Rachel stated.

You watched Rachel attentively, nodding.

“Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever.”

You glanced at the boys with a quirked eyebrow.

***

Dean typed away on the library computer on the archive search page for the Jericho Herald. He had the words “Female Murder Hitchhiking" typed into the search bar. When he pressed enter, nothing came up. Dean replaced “Hitchhiking” with “Centennial Highway,” and once again, crickets.

“Wait a minute,” Sam started, “So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?”

“Yeah,” Dean replied as if it was obvious.

“Well, maybe it’s not murder,” Sam stated.

“Ohhh,” you started, “I’m pickin’ up what you’re puttin’ down.” You knew Sam was thinking suicide.

Sam smiled at you.

“Let me try,” Sam told Dean.

“I got it,” Dean came back.

Sam shoved Dean out of the chair and took over.

“Dude!” Dean hit Sam on the shoulder. “You're such a control freak.”

You laughed at their banter.

“Can it, (Y/N),” Dean told you.

“So, what I can’t laugh?”

“No, no, you can’t.”

“I literally just met you and I’ve had it up to here--” you flattened your hand and put it up by your eyebrow, “--with you already--”

“The feeling is mutual, sweetheart,” Dean cut you off.

“You two wanna stop?” Sam asked. “Come look at this.”

Just as you thought, Sam had put “suicide” in place of “murder” in the search bar.

Sam snapped you out of your thoughts by saying, “This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river.”

“Does it say why she did it?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” you started, leaning over Sam’s shoulder to get a better look at the screen, “An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently, her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die.”

Something about the situation did not sit right with you; it sounded familiar.

Sam continued reading. “‘ 'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch.’”

“The bridge look familiar to you?” Dean pointed out, looking at a picture of a man-- presumably Constance’s husband-- crying standing next to Sylvania Bridge.

“Well, we know where we’re headed,” you commented, walking toward the exit of the library. You could feel Dean’s eyes on you as you left.

***

By the time you finally got to Sylvania Bridge, it was late at night. You and the boys had stopped for a bite to eat before going back to the bridge. Troy’s car had long since been removed, the crime scene completely cleared out.

Dean looked out over the edge of the bridge, standing next to you and Sam. “So this is where Constance took the swan dive.”

“So you think Dad would have been here?” Sam looked over at his brother.

"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him.” Dean continued down the bridge, the taller boy trailing behind him.

“Okay, so now what?”

“Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while.”

Sam stopped. “Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—”

The brunet stopped, turning around. “Monday. Right. The interview.” Aggravation was clear in his tone.

“Yeah.”

You thought it best to take a step back while they had this discussion.

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?” Dean’s tone got a bit more of an edge to it.

“Maybe. Why not?” Sam pushed back.

“Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?”

Sam stepped closer to Dean. “No, and she's not ever going to know.”

The older boy did not back down. “Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.” He turned around and kept walking.

Sam followed him, his arms out in question. “And who's that?”

“You're one of us.” Dean gestured to himself and back to you staying several paces back,

Sam hurried to get in front of his brother. “No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life.”

“You have a responsibility to—”

“To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.”

When Dean grabbed his brother by the collar and shoved him against the bridge, you jumped into action.

“Hey, knock it off, Dean.”

“(Y/N)--” Dean warned, giving you a sideways glare. He looked back at Sam. “Don't talk about her like that.” He let Sam go and walked away from him.

You hurried over to Sam. “You okay?” You put your hand on his shoulder and met his hazel eyes.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Guys,” Dean called.

You looked to Dean who stared down to the railing at the edge of the bridge.

“Constance,” you let out, coming to stand next to Dean.

Constance looked back at your group before stepping off of the railing.

The three of you ran to the railing.

“Where'd she go?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know, wanna jump down there and find out?” you sassed.

Dean glared at you as the sound of the Impala’s engine roared behind you.

The older Winchester flipped around. “What the—”

Sam wheeled around, too. “Who's driving your car?”

Dean pulled the keys out of his pocket and jingled them, his green eyes never leaving the Impala.

The car jerked into motion, barrelling over the bridge straight toward you and the Winchesters.

“Go! Go!” you yelled, turning and sprinting away.

Dean and Sam sped ahead of you, and you noticed the car gaining on you. Your heart raced and your breathing was labored. The car was way too close for comfort and left you with just one option.

You threw yourself over the railing, just barely managing to hang onto the edge of the bridge.

You heard the car engine stop just as something-- or someone-- hit the water.

You pulled yourself back over the railing and noticed Sam sitting on the railing calling for Dean.

You rushed over to Sam, leaning over the railing to try to find Dean.

He popped up a second later, his usually spikey hair flattened to his head with mud. In fact, his whole body was covered in mud.

“You okay?” You called down to him.

Dean sarcastically held up a thumb and pursed his lips.

“Hey, I’m just checking on you, don’t be an ass,” you yelled back, a small smile playing on your lips.

“Fuck off,” he grunted, annoyed.

Sam laughed and got back onto the bridge.

You headed over to the Impala and checked it over, grabbing a towel out of your bag.

Dean had managed to climb back onto the bridge and made his way over to his baby. He opened the car’s hood and poked around to see if Constance had damaged it at all. After a moment, he shut the hood and leaned on it.

“Your car all right?” you heard Sam ask are you walked over to Dean with the towel.

“Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now. That Constance chick, what a bitch!” He yelled at the spirit.

You put the towel on Dean’s head and started to dry his hair off when he jerked away from you.

“What are you doing?”

You were quick to put the towel back on his head. “Helping.”

The dirty blond ripped the towel out of your hands. “I got it.”

“Fine.” You raised your hands up in surrender. You leaned against the car next to Dean. “You know, I been thinkin’.”

“That’s dangerous.”

“Shut up, Dean. I’m serious.” You paused, taking in a breath. “Constance is a woman in white.”

Sam pursed his lips, shrugging. “Makes sense. I mean, the dead kids, suicide, killing unfaithful men.”

“Maybe.” The older Winchester’s monotone voice was followed by silence. A silence that was broken a few moments later by Sam.

“You smell like a toilet.”

You scrunched up your nose and giggled.

“Can it, (Y/N).”

***

“You guys having a reunion or something?” the clerk asked, looking at the credit card Dean had placed on the motel’s front desk.

Sam cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought out a room for the whole month.”

Dean looked over to his brother briefly and then turns his head back to the clerk. “What room’s he in?”

“Listen, kid, I can’t go around giving out people’s room numbers.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

You stepped out from behind the two boys. “Oh, please sir? He’s family, and we haven’t seen him in a while.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes.

“Fine.”

***

“That how you get all the guys?”

“What?” you asked, not bothering to face Dean to answer his question. The two of you were stationed outside of John Winchester's room playing lookout while Sam picked the lock on the door.

“You know what I mean. I saw you makin’ eyes at the clerk.”

“Yeah, to get a room number.” You turned to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. “And it worked, didn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah. It worked real well.” He turned to face you.

“You know, you don’t have to be such a dick all the time. I met you yesterday and have given you no reason not to like me. What’s your deal?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, my plate is kind of full. I’m trying to figure out what the hell happened to my dad. I have no idea whether he’s alive, dead, or captured, and he’s the only parent I have left. And my little brother is solely concerned about getting back to fucking Stanford, and I’m not even sure he cares about what happened to our dad. And now, enter (Y/N) trying to take over a hunt that is the only tie I have to my dad.” Dean’s face was incredibly close to yours.

Sam had long since gone into the room and decided to leave the two of you alone to hash out your frustrations.

You held your ground, but your voice took on less of an angry tone. You were strictly playing defense at this point. “But I wasn’t trying to take it over to be mean, and as soon as you got so defensive about the hunt, I backed down and just offered to help--”

“Yeah, and I didn't want your help. Sam was the one who let you in, probably hoping that if you were here he could shag ass back to Stanford. So forgive me if I’m a little on edge.” He pulled his face away from yours, wheeling around to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Well, I’m sorry for being such an inconvenience. Perhaps you’ve forgotten the fact that I’ve helped you guys more than I’ve hurt you. I pulled your asses out of a crack when you were talking to the police. I was the one who figured out what kind of a spook we’re dealing with here. I want you to find your dad. I really do. But I also want you to stop being so awful to me. And it’s just me specifically!” You threw your arms up in the air. At some point during the first part of your rant, Dean had looked back at you over his shoulder. “You’re so nice to Sam--I mean, about as nice as brothers are to each other-- and I can tell you care about him. I can tell you have a good heart. So why choose to be an ass?”

When Dean didn’t answer, you shook your head. “Whatever. I’m leaving.” You clutched your duffel bag strap on your shoulder tightly, your knuckles turning white.

“To go where?”

“Away. You win. Ya got what you wanted.”

“Wait, (Y/N)--”

“Tell Sam I said ‘bye.’”

***

The heat of midday had your baby hairs stuck to your head with sweat. You had been walking for a while now, just trying to find somewhere remote enough that you could steal a car without getting seen.

You hiked along a highway surrounded by dense trees, the rustling sound of the green leaves filling your head. You took a deep breath, allowing peace to wash over you. You never had to see Dean Winchester again, although you would miss Sam. He was the closest thing to a friend you’ve had in a while.

A familiar engine roar overpowered the sound of the rustling you had been hearing. The car pulled off of the highway just behind you, coming to a stop.

You took your bottom lip in your mouth under your top one, closing your eyes and stopping your walk.

You heard the opening and closing of the car’s door as you turned around, a small smile on your lips.

“You know,” Sam started, walking toward you, “It’s kind of rude to leave without saying ‘goodbye.’“

You let out a laugh. “Hey, Sam.”

He pulled you into a quick hug. “Hey. I heard what happened.”

You looked down at the mixture of grass and gravel below your combat boots. “Yeah.”

“And I know you probably never wanna see Dean’s face again, but we need your help. I do, and he does, whether he wants to admit it or not. We can all get out of here a lot quicker if we work together. You can get away from Dean, I can get back to Stanford, and Dean can find our dad.”

“Where is Dean?”

“Arrested.”

“Oh,” you said quietly, nodding. “Okay.” You put on a smile. “What now?”

***

Much later in the day, after going to visit Joseph Welch, you and Sam were sitting in a diner grabbing a bite to eat. The both of you were brainstorming what to do to get Dean out of jail and what to do about that Constance bitch. The conversation had shifted from those two topics once you had a solid plan to simply small talk between friends.

“So what’s your story?” you asked, taking a bite out of one of your fries.

“What?”

“I picked up from conversations between you and Dean over the past two days and the very loud conversation I had with your brother earlier that you left hunting to go to Stanford. What happened there?”

Sam chuckled, looking down.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that. I crossed a line,” you told him sincerely. You stared at your ketchup.

“No, no,” he responded. He took in a sharp breath. “My dad and I had a big blowout fight before I left for college. He told me if I left for college to never come back. Haven’t talked to him in two years.” He took a bite of his salad after he finished talking.

“Oh,” you said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

You decided to change the subject. “Alright, we’ve let Dean rot long enough. I’m gonna go call the police.”

Sam laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll get the check.”

You walked outside of the diner, heading to the payphone you spotted at the entrance of the parking lot. You picked it up and dialed ‘9-1-1.’

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

You made your voice frantic, forcing tears to well up in your eyes. “My-My husband! He’s been shot!”

“Ma’am, calm down for me, okay? Where are you?”

You screamed. “He- He just shot another guy! Oh, my god!”

“Ma’am, where are you?”

“I’m on Whiteford Road,” you said. “Please, please, please hurry!”

“Okay, okay, um, w-we’re sending a unit out to you now. Can you stay on the line for me?”

“No, no! Please!” you cried. “Plea--” You cut yourself off and hung up the phone.

You noticed Sam standing next to you using one of his forearms to hold the door open as he leaned on the door frame.

“What?”

“That was damn good acting,” he noted.

“Thanks,” you chuckled. “I actually wanted to be an actress growing up.”

“Hunting got in the way,” Sam figured.

“Exactly. But, acting is kind of part of the job. Gotta be real good at lying and pretending to be feds,” you shrugged, making light of the situation.

A comfortable silence blanketed you and Sam as you lamented over what life could’ve been for you. You sucked in a breath and said, “We better get going. To Constance!”

***

Sam’s phone ringing pulled the two of you out of a conversation about his girlfriend, Jess, and his life at Stanford.

Sam looked at the caller ID, shrugging at you when he didn’t recognize it.

“Fake 911 phone call? Sammy, I don't know, that's pretty illegal,” you could hear Dean jest through the phone.

The brunet grinned. “It was (Y/N), actually.”

He paused. “(Y/N)? She’s with you?”

You took Sam’s phone out of his hands and said, “Yup. Hi, Dean,” into the receiver. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

You gave the phone back to Sam.

The older Winchester changed the topic from you to something else. “Listen, we gotta talk.”

“Tell me about it,” Sam jumped in. “So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop--”

His brother tried to cut him off. “Sammy, would you shut up for a second?”

“--I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet.”

“Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho.”

Sam threw a look to you before glancing back to the road. “What? How do you know?”

“I've got his journal,” you heard the dirty blond explain.

“He doesn't go anywhere without that thing.”

“Yeah, well, he did this time.”

“What's it say?”

“Ah, the same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going.”

‘Ex-Marine crap?’ you thought to yourself.

Sam noticed your puzzled expression and directed toward you, “Coordinates.” He spoke his following words to Dean. “Where to?”

“I'm not sure yet.”

You propped your head up on your elbow on the passenger’s side door, legs tossed in an ‘L’ shape on the seat beside you. You stared out of the window into the dark night, taking in the gloomy appearance of the dead trees and fallen leaves.

The younger Winchester shook his head. “I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job?”

A figure in the road caught your eye, causing you to squint and look out the windshield.

Sam was still rambling to his brother. “Dean, what the hell is going on?”

You registered that Constance was in the road. “Sam, look out!” you shrieked.

Sam looked up, dropping the phone and slamming the brakes hard. You had to brace yourself on the dashboard in front of you, your body jerking forward and backward in your seat.

Constance was gone, and you and Sam tried to catch your breaths.

“Sam? Sam!” Dean’s voice came through the phone.

You picked up the phone from under the glove box. Dean had hung up before you got the chance to tell him Sam was alright.

You turned to the brunet, who swallowed hard and looked into the backseat through the rearview mirror.

You whirled around to look in the backseat, and there Constance was. “Take me home,” she ordered. She looked directly at you. “Take me home!”

“No,” you stated firmly, holding her gaze.

Constance glared back at you as you heard the doors of the car lock. You wheel around in your seat and try to reopen them. Suddenly, your body was thrust back into the seat as the car began to drive.

“Sam?” you yelled over the roar of the engine.

“That’s not me!” He tried to grab the steering wheel to drive, but Constance wouldn’t let him.

You continued to struggle with the doors until the two-- well, three, counting Constance-- of you pulled up to an abandoned house, presumably the Welches’ old house. The windows on both of the two floors had been covered with boards, the paint was peeling off of the wood slats, and the screen door had been ripped. The house looked like it was falling apart more and more with every passing day. It had the stereotypical appearance of a horror movie house.

The engine of the Impala shut off.

“Don't do this,” the younger Winchester pleaded.

Constance flickered in the backseat. “I can never go home,” she moaned, her voice sad.

As if a switch had been flipped in your brain, your face shifted from scared to enlightened. “You're scared to go home.” You turned to look in the back seat, but Constance was gone. As soon as you turned back around, you noticed Constance in between you and Sam on the leather bench seat.

You jumped, back pressed against the passenger’s side door. Constance climbed on Sam’s lap, shoving him back against the seat hard enough to tilt it backward.

You tried to lunge for Constance, but she shoved you against the Impala’s door hard enough with a flick of her wrist to send the door flying open and you sailing through the air.

“(Y/N)!” You heard Sam yell.

You skidded to a halt on the rocky gravel surrounding the house, feeling your arms and legs get cut up. The wind was knocked out of you, and your head bounced against the small rocks.

“Ow,” you groaned, trying to get up. You saw Constance had closed the passenger’s side door once more, and through the window could see her kissing Sam as he reached for the keys.

Another thing you saw was a figure appearing on the other side of the car through the driver’s side window. You hoped to god it was Dean.

You heard whoever it was fire a shot as Sam screamed in what seemed to be pain, so you immediately ducked. A few more shots were fired and you felt safe enough to raise your head.

You scrambled to your feet when you saw the Impala go careening through the porch and into the old Welch house. You ran into the house, being as careful as you could to avoid any of the broken pieces of wood and furniture the car had left in its path.

Dean was quick to follow you, calling out to his younger brother. “You okay?”

Sam groaned. “I think...”

“Can you move?” you asked, leaning through the passenger’s window. You looked him over for serious injury.

“Yeah,” he told you. He reached a hand out to his brother. “Help me?”

You stepped to the side as Dean pulled Sam out through the rolled-down window.

You noticed Constance picking up a picture frame of her and her children that had fallen to the ground.

She turned her attention from the picture to you and met your eyes.

She pinned you and the boys against the Impala with a bureau. It hit the boys in their pelvis but nailed you right in the stomach. You groaned in pain, desperately trying to push it off of you.

You stopped your struggle when a sound caught your ear. It sounded like liquid trickling and watched as a stream of water just thick enough to cover each step cascaded to the ground. You followed the stream to the top of the stairs to see the dark silhouettes of a little girl and a little boy holding hands.

“You've come home to us, Mommy,” they spoke in chorus.

Constance looked distraught as she got closer to the stairs. They were suddenly gone from the stairs and appeared behind her, hugging her and looking up at her with warm yet slightly disturbing smiles.

Constance screamed, and she and her children melted to the floor flickering between apparitions of skinless and skeletal forms of humans. They melted into a puddle of an electric purple goo that seeped through the floorboards as the ringing in your ears from Constance’s shrieks subsided.

You and the Winchesters shoved the bureau over, and you dusted off your hands as Dean spoke.

“So this is where she drowned her kids.”

“That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them,” Sam told you and his brother.

“You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy.” Dean slapped him on the chest where holes had been burned through his shirt that you were assumed were the products of Constance. Sam groaned out in pain but laughed nonetheless.

“Actually, it was all (Y/N). I’m just the jackass who drove your car through the side of a house,” Sam smiled, jutting his thumb back at you.

Dean hummed as he continued to walk away, clearly disinterested but making an effort to sound impressed. He leaned on the open window of the passenger’s side door, looking over his baby. “Speaking of that, if you screwed up my car--” he paused, looking back at Sam, “--I’ll kill you.”

“Aw, shame,” you cut in, “Sam’s my favorite Winchester.”

Dean glared at you. “Can it, (Y/N).”

***

You lip-synced the words to AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell” which boomed through the speakers of the Impala. You were sat in the backseat, leaning on the front seat between the two Winchesters with your forearms atop their bench seat. You looked over Sam’s shoulder as he opened up a giant map and opened his dad’s journal. He went to tuck a flashlight under his chin so he could actually see what he was doing, but you stopped him.

“I can hold that for you.”

“Thanks,” was his short reply as he handed off the flashlight to you, his eyes never leaving the things on his lap. You clicked the flashlight on and held it over his shoulder as he scanned the map for the coordinates “35-111″ as was written in his dad’s journal.

Sam tapped the spot on the map once he found it. “Okay, here's where Dad went. It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado.”

“Charming,” you quipped.

“How far?” came Dean’s question.

“About six hundred miles,” the younger Winchester told his brother.

“Hey, if we shag ass after we drop (Y/N) off in the next town over we could make it by morning,” Dean suggested, looking over at Sam.

‘This guy is so ready to get rid of me,’ you thought, shaking your head.

Sam cocked his head to the side and looked to his brother. “Dean--”

Dean stared back to the road, his pitch dropping lower and his disappointment apparent. “You're not going.”

“The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there,” Sam reminded him.

“Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home.”

You clicked the flashlight off, sinking back into the backseat.

‘Awkward.’

***

Dean’s face was still set in a frown as the Impala pulled up to Sam’s apartment complex. You jumped out of the car as Sam did, pulling him into a tight hug.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you told him, squeezing him harder with your eyes shut. You were genuinely disappointed. Sam was so nice and the two of you had become great friends very quickly.

“Hey, you have my number. Call me.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same.” You pulled away from him. “Say ‘hi’ to Jess for me.”

The brunet chuckled. “I will.” He leaned down into the open window of Dean’s car. “Call me if you find him?”

Dean nodded.

“And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?”

“Yeah, all right.”

Sam clearly did not know how to end the conversation from there, so he simply patted the inside of the car door twice and turned away. Dean leaned toward the passenger door, calling out to Sam in one last attempt to get him to come with him. “You know, we made a hell of a team back there.”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, which was clearly not the reaction Dean was expecting. He just sighed and waited for you to get back in the car. You had barely shut the door before Dean shoved off.

You jerked around in your seat. “Easy, tiger. Jesus.” You slumped down in your seat after getting no response from Dean. You crossed your arms and looked out of your window.

The familiar smells of coconut and tobacco filled your nose, and you immediately straightened up.

“Turn around,” you told Dean, your eyes wide.

“What? No,” he snorted. “Why?”

“Just do it!”

Your exclamation caught Dean off guard. “Jesus, fine.”

He put the car in reverse and headed back up the street.

Dean hadn’t even stopped in front of Sam’s apartment complex before you threw the car door open and sprinted toward the apartment as fast as you could.

“Whoa, crazy lady, where are you going?” Dean caught up to you and grabbed your arm, spinning you around.

“Sam’s apartment. Which one is it?!” You asked in a panic.

“Uh--” He glanced away from you, still puzzled as to why you were a basketcase at the present moment.

“Dean!”

He looked back at you, shaking his head, but he ran up the stairs and led you to Sam and Jess’s shared apartment.

He stopped in front of the door, turning back to face you. “Now, why--”

Before he could finish his statement, you used all your might to kick the wooden door in, yelling Sam’s name in concern.

“No!” you heard him yell from another room.

Dean jumped into action, sprinting through the apartment with you hot on his heels. The two of you got to the younger Winchester’s bedroom just in time to see a woman in a white nightgown stained red at her belly from bleeding with blonde hair on the ceiling burst into flames.

“Jess!” Sam yelled, paralyzed on his bed in shock. He quickly moved one arm to shield his face as the flames got closer to him. “No!”

‘Oh, shit. His girlfriend...’

You shook your thoughts away from you and helped Dean lug a screaming Sam out of the door and out of the apartment complex. You fished through your bag in Dean’s car for your phone and called the fire department as Dean tried to hold Sam back from going back in for his charred girlfriend.

***

Flashes of red and blue broke through the black of night, emanating from police cars and firetrucks all around you. You walked through the chaotic scene of police and firemen holding back onlookers and firemen dousing the remaining embers of the fire in water. Black, charred wood stuck out from the turquoise exterior of the complex, and you could see into the apartment through giant holes that had been burnt out of the wall.

You walked back over to the boys who stood by the Impala. Sam was fooling with weapons concealed within the hollowed-out bottom of the trunk, and Dean stood next to him, watching his brother’s face. As you got to them, you put a hand on Sam’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. He looked up at you, his normally soft and cheery expression suppressed by a look of both desperation and anger. He shut the trunk with a hard slam.

“We got work to do.”

Tags are open and feedback is always appreciated!

Series Rewrite Tags:

@rach5ive @ppeachygemss

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goldenart0 · 4 years

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I am someone who believes that most stories would do better if there was a character (specifically protagonist) who just puts all of there points into charisma. Like, I love villains that are just Manipulative Bastards (like MCD Zane, brilliant character and villian. A dick, but well written), but honest to god having protagonists doing those things is equally as awesome to me.

And there’s also kinda this thing with Oscar ending up giving characters morality crises (I specifically saw on thing with Neo and Cinder as like a ‘what if Neo and Cinder ended up kidnapping Oscar but he just ends up giving them a morality crises) because baby. But then I thought, okay that, but more on purpose. Like specifically trying to get people to have morality crises or just not kill him.

So of course I put two and two together, and ended creating a list of reasons I think it makes sense for Oscar to be the kind of character with all point into charisma and such.

1) It fits his actually character so far.

Oscar from what we’ve seen always tends to try talking over nearly any other plan. In V5 he got Ruby to kinda open up a bit. Durning his fight with Hazel in V5 after learning Hazel’s story he tries to convince Hazel to move on and not blame anyone other then his sister for it (“did she know the risks?”). V6 he tried talking to Jaune after the group told JNR about Salem. And in V7, while everyone else was either fighting someone or trying to get to safety, he went to talk to and convince Ironwood to stop what he’s doing. There have been quite a few times where this tactic has failed, but the point still being it’s what he nearly always defaults to. Talk and convince other as opposed to jumping to punching them. Also, in V7 when everything was kinda falling apart in Atlas while they were at the party and James was panicking because the plan was falling apart, Oscar was the one to help James realize (maybe even help come up with a plan) that this isn’t as bad as it seems and that they can turn in around. This isn’t just plain optimism, this is taking the scene and finding a way to make in work in your favor. Which I’m sure is something that will come real handy soon. On that note, since (I’m like 90% sure) we’re out of act two and into act three, things will start to look up a bit more for our protagonists. And by most means they are in a very bad situation right about now. But as we’ve seen, bad situations can be turned good in you think right.

1.5) Also, he’s not the best fighter. And he knows this. In volumn six he specifically comes into the ship with Maria to help by watching from above. He doesn’t work well by being in the front lines, and he knows that. Besides this group needs someone who can deal with, ya know, people and most of them not really seem to fill that role quite that best (I know ruby can deliver her speeches in moments if need, but could she handle a professional meeting or discussion? I think not).

2) It’s not a typical story path.

These traits of making situations work better for you and convincing other to do things you’d like (ie.dont kill me) tend to be traits more given to villains as opposed to heroes. Think about it. How many villain to you know that manipulated and cunning compared to heroes. Not much in this day and age. But RWBY has done this kind of thing before. Take Ruby for example. Just looking at her we see dark colors, a cloak, a not typical hero weapon. But then we meet her and? It’s a bouncy girl who loves weapons, loyal to her friends, and with a spark that just won’t go out. She does not seem like what we’d expect by just given her design. Oscar himself already does this to some degree. He is the actual definition of a chosen one protagonist. And yet he is not the protagonist at all, and honestly that makes this idea even more fun. As I said, this is a trait that villains tend to get. Chosen one heroes never really get this, they fight to cunning villain instead. So seeing that flipping of traits and breaking of tropes is wonderful to me, and I love it and I hope RWBY never stop doing it.

3) Greek Mythology:

There are two main kinds of heroes in Greek mythology (at least as we’ve been able to find and collect, mythology is Fucking Weird sometimes. Most times history and time don’t really help much). The prideful one, who gets destroyed by their own hubris and the cunning one. Salem falls very much into the first of those. She’s like a Bellerophon, trying to reach the gods but being struck down, or an Icarus flying to close to the sun. Oscar on the other hand seems to be a bit more like Odysseus, may not physically be the strongest, but damn he was smart enough to get out of many bad situations. Or Heracles who, despite what modern media tends to show him as, was really fricken smart. The dude managed to trick Atlas into taking the sky back by basically saying he’d take it back but then went “fun fact! I lied. Bye!”. He figured out how to take down enemies many thought were immortal though smarts and figuring out their weaknesses. He realized when he couldn’t physically do something, found a way to do it, and won some horse along the way. Ancient Greece really liked to say, Brawns won’t do you shit if you don’t have the brains to back then up, and even when as far to go with that brains were more important then brawns at points. Also, remember that story with Atlas and Heracles I just told you? Well I mean they are in Atlas and they need to find some shiny relics...

4) There will be no victory in strength:

One of the main themes in RWBY is how you can’t just fight your way out of everything. Now the main group hasn’t quite realized this yet, hence why they were so upset about the Salem thing. But Oscar is the epitome of this idea. He doesn’t go straight to fighting the majority of the time, and tries to talk with people and convince them to change. Now I’m not saying he should try that with Salem, I highly doubt that’ll work, but honestly it would probably work with most of the other antagonists in the series. (“I don’t need to be able to beat you in a fight, I just need to be able to convince you to fight someone else”).

5) Plans

Honestly, quite a few of the groups in RWBY are not the best planners. The protagonists a) tend to only think about what to do immediately and b) go to fighting first. They also don’t really back up plans, just kinda wing it of plan A doesn’t work. Ironwood is very rigid in his plans, both as not being able to deal well is the plan fails, and in letting other people bring up other ways to handle something. But as I say earlier, Oscar was the one to convince Ironwood that not all hope was lost and that new plans can be made out if the ashes of the old one. It’s sort of a “think ten steps ahead, but also look out for any opening and play with the hand you’re dealt” kind of thing. Because taking chances when you see that and bending a situation to fit what you need is very much a more manipulative move, but also can be very helpful. Especially is current plans are failing. Or everything is very very bad at the moment. And Oscar is the only we’ve really seen to something like that. Everyone else just tends to find a way that works and just stick with it, not really making room to be flexible. Flexibility is important you guys.

6) Possible Semblance:

I think one thing most of us all agree on is that there is no way that Oscar can just be holding in all of his emotions and just, like, be fully mentally ok at this point in time (okay honestly none if the kids are) and I at least would like for him to just snap. And I think a main part of that will be not having people listen to him (ie. James just shooting him instead of listen to what he had to say) and not being seen as himself and who he is. And we know that Semblances tend to relfect in a person. With all that being said, there is a power that could manage to not only hit that current issues Oscar’s having mentally, but also with the while ‘convincing others’ part. Glamour. Now I might be the only one that read about this because of what I’ve found online, but Fae Glamour, as well as being able to make you look different, can also ness with peoples brains a bit. Just like, some making you believe something different here, some changing if your perspective on reality there ya know? Oh if you’ve ever read the series, The Invisible Library (I recommend you do if you like fantasy, the multiverse, fae, dragons, etc.), the librarians in that have the ability to make this to things, the farther from what it’s normally be like the more effort it takes. Kinda like that. This also ties in with Oz general Fae-like thing. I’m not joking he’s very much like a Fae. (This would also tie into my next point woo transitions).

7) Conflict:

As has been said before, these sorts of things are not usually hero traits. And there are definitely people on the group who may not be the most okay with someone doing things that aren’t fully morally right all the time and that could very well cause some issues. Issue that is even occur would probably be dealt with in a more timely manor but still. (Also the FNDM might not like it as much as well, cause no one seems to understand that morality isn’t just black and white).

I think that’s all? I might end up adding more is I remember or think of it. Well thanks for surviving my ramble if you did read it all

#rwby #oscar pine #rwby theory #basically he’s a slytherin #like a Manipulative Bastard but Neutal Good instead Neutal/Lawful Evil #part of me is like #he wouldnt use much cause precious cinnamon roll #but another part is #MCD Zane but just on the good side of dnd allinment chart #itd be fun if that were the case #i doubt it but itd be fun #also this whole thing would probably make him a bit more involed with planning and such #so thats good for the lancer thing

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peepingtoad · 4 years

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THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

My muse is: canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless /

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO / 50-50 (There’s a lot of love and a lot of hate, but I think many are actually pretty neutral on him too!)

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO / 50-50 (I’d say he may be an... acquired taste? Of course a lot of people I know here find him sexie so it’s hard to say for certain, heh. We may just be the weirdos of the fandom :P )

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO

Are they underrated? YES / NO (Not in terms of ability, but underrated for just how complex and multi-layered he is, I’d say)

Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO /

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO.

How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL (I honestly think he’s a man of many reputations, both in canon and in fandom :’D)

How strictly do you follow canon? — I’m very much a ‘use the bones of what we got in canon and do my best to flesh them out’ kinda roleplayer. There are some things that can be taken too easily at face value that I see fit to build upon. For example, I think Jiraiya’s feelings on the prophecy and his relationship with Konoha is something that could be too easily played off as simplistic, or like they were immovable constants. But that’s unrealistic for a man of his years and many experiences, so I try to put myself in his emotional setting at various points in his life, and trace how his feelings and behaviours change, if that makes sense?

I try to avoid saying that any of the writing was straight up wrong because it’s disrespectful to the creator. But especially for Jiraiya, who had such a significant role to play in the narrative that it sometimes took precedence over his actual character, I do find some of his actions, and the way some interactions were handled in the canon to be a little OOC... so I’ll work with it and try to spin it in a way that I feel fits how he was characterised.

Basically, I’d say that I follow canon, but I like to enrich it in areas that were lacking detail or a nuanced view that took in all the surrounding events of the time. After Jiraiya’s canon death, of course, that’s when more divergence comes in to my portrayal... otherwise I wouldn’t be able to play any post-war scenarios! But the essence of his character is the same, which I try to keep as close to canon as possible.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals. — A man of many experiences! You can bet that any topic that comes up, he’ll have some sort of amusing anecdote to share, or be able simply to talk shit about it. He's seen so much, and has a sensitive soul enough that he’ll give anyone a chance; he’s very open-minded and non-judgemental, and honestly is a humanitarian that wants to help those in need. Might leave your muse a little baffled as to how he could hold the status of ‘legend’, only to show it when they least expect it. You never quite know what you’re going to get with him: he’s generous and selfless, yet has many vices that seem selfish at times; he’s both a lover and a fearsome fighter; he’s immensely resilient at the same time as incredibly vulerable and damaged; he’s a himbo and a bit of a jock with the soul of a poet. Love him with no restraint and invite his love in return, and you’ll get not only a lover, but a devotee. Wears his heart on his sleeve... or does he? Chip away at him and find out!

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?). — The pervy, flirty, jokey schtick could get grating, or come across as disingenuous. In romantic situations, he’ll keep quiet about putting a label on whatever it is, and beneath his overall sweetness and devotion there may be an underlying reek of commitment issues and a fear of admitting he is afraid. He also has a habit of deflecting negativity in general, and playing things off as if they don’t matter or they’re a joke, making him actually rather a difficult person to get to know the heart of. One might feel as if they’re getting nowhere with him...

... Either that, or they get the complete opposite. Yes, as equally as he can be guarded, he can overshare like crazy, and has a tendency to become codependent with those he gets attached to, which is inconsistent with his free-spirited nature, and how adept he is at keeping others at arm’s length from his less sunny side. This inconsistency might make him seem unreliable—if the fact he’s always off who-knows-where doesn’t do the trick already.

What inspired you to rp your muse? — I’ve been a big fan of the Sannin ever since I first read the Deadlock, but being a very young person at the time I perhaps couldn’t relate enough to people who had experienced so much to do them justice in my teenage fic-writing endeavours, so I remained on the sidelines enjoying content by other people (there may also have been a little bit of ‘what the fuck, why do I dig the old dude so much’ denial in there haha). I’ve picked up and dropped my obsession with the series several times over the years, and my love for those three seemed to grow each time. They really are ‘the lost generation’, and as the sole survivors—alongside having a huge impact on the plot, how the shinobi world is shaped, and the three main protagonists—there’s a lot of juicy material there, a lot of emotional background, along with decades of history that basically goes untapped in the canon.

Anyway, I digress. Coming to the Naruto RPC for the first time around this time 2 years ago at the age of 25, I made this blog and my Deidara one on a whim, but focused on the latter at first. Villains were always comfortable territory for me in my other RP experiences, and I think it made me doubt that I could possibly do someone who is frankly a lovely guy any justice, no matter how much I loved him. I even had the intention of making him fully Akatsuki/Missing-Nin AU at first. Yeah. That’s how stuck in my villain/anti-hero zone I was! But, I think in the end, the fact he actually isn’t a two-dimensional typical ‘hero’ was something I chewed over and realised would be incredibly enriching to write, worth stepping out of my comfort zone for. And being a little more mature and less angst-ridden myself by that point, I found I could resonate with his feelings and ideals in a way that I know I couldn’t have as a teen... but I was still tentative.

Anyway, after leaving his blog empty for a bit (with its placeholder URL ‘frogdaddy’, which sadly got hoarded by someone else), I cosplayed the old bastard, along with my partner as Orochimaru. We’d been stanning that particular ship and talking about how great the Sannin are in general for quite some time by that point, but being casually in character for fun while drunk off my tits at a boat party, was a bit of an epiphanic moment. Not long after that, I threw myself right into writing this chaotic-good old bastard with gusto, and here I still am :’)

What keeps your inspiration going? — Taking breaks to recharge as and when I need to. Seriously. The death of all my other blogs has been pressure (mostly from myself) to be there and force myself to put out regular content, so I went into this not thinking that way and it’s really helped!

Of course, there’s also the fact that there simply seems to be no shortage of areas I can delve into with this guy. Again, it’s his age and all the missing years in canon... but I think it’s also how much love he has and his genuine eagerness to engage with others that makes him one of the most naturally bountiful muses I’ve played. Because honestly? Most of my villain muses wanted people to just fuck off :’D this guy is open to everything.

That aside, I guess I just gel with him more than I ever expected to. I’ve changed a lot as a person and gained more confidence since various areas of my life got better, and I really just vibed with this chill, funny, romantic, pervy, big-hearted energy. I enjoy angst, but my real love is peppering the serious and heartbreaking with romance and comedy—and isn’t that just befitting of him? Writing through his eyes also helps to keep my outlook positive, so that keeps me stuck on him as much as the seemingly limitless content potential.

And this is without even going into my cross-fandom AU ideas I have on the back-burner. Honestly, they’re there but I want to put a real effort into them while keeping his essence the same, which for some, involves brushing up on my lore!

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice? YES / NO.

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO.

Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO / RARELY. (depends on whether I get a flash of inspiration—which mostly comes with random asks that happen to stir up an idea for a scene, such as this one (NSFW warning))

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO.

Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO.

Are you confident in your writing? YES / NO.

Are you a sensitive person? YES / 50-50 /NO. (I tend not to take things personally but am also very passionate—call it my innate Leo-ness!)

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal? — Hmmm. I haven’t actually had any critique on my portrayal, so I’m not sure haha! I’d say if it’s constructive, then I’ll take it into account and consider it, especially if it’s a case where it helps me realise I’ve perhaps not gotten across what I intended to very well. But I’m also quite fond of my portrayal in its essence, so I may end up just thanking the person for their opinion and carry on as usual :P

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character? — Absolutely! I’ve had some wonderful ones recently and it’s exactly the kick I need to get ideas out, some of which I’ve had on the back-burner but not had a framework within which to write it without it getting derailed. I definitely appreciate a question that will keep me at least a little on-topic, otherwise if I go off on my own volition I really tend to... well, go off! Even if a question is a similar topic to something I’ve already done, it’s a good exercise for me to go back to the similar headcanon and see if I can build further on it, deviate, and link it to show what past thoughts I’ve been working with. A great way of keeping some consistency in my portrayal while making improvements, I find! And then of course I’ve had some questions that are entirely new morsels for thought, and it leads me to something new and fresh, which I greatly appreciate.

Basically, any questions at all, fire away! I may take a while but I will get to them eventually!

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why? — Yeah. I mean I think it’s just polite to present a reason as to why not, instead of just being like ‘this is wrong/a bad take’ or whatever. Source material is down to personal interpretation, so if I draw different ideas from it to another person after discussion, then we can simply agree to disagree on it.

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it? — They are welcome to disagree with me I guess? So long as they’re respectful and don’t then treat me as if my interpretation is ‘AU’ or talk about ‘canon Jiraiya’ as if he’s obviously a different entity to my own, then disagree away. But if prompted enough, know that I will most likely defend my portrayal with what I consider to be justification from the source material :P I did pay close attention to it, after all, and I do consider my portrayal to align well with it.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it? — Depends on the nature of it and the conduct, really? Like, people are allowed to dislike characters. I myself find a couple of characters pretty annoying or don’t particularly care for them (granted, usually it’s in a love-to-hate or simply a ‘this character doesn’t interest me’ way), but that doesn’t affect how I behave towards the RPer of a character. It’s just manners, really. People tend to RP characters because they like them, so why would you take negativity right to their doorstep, in this space they’ve made as an expression of enjoyment for, and to develop said character?

There’s been some people who admitted to me that they didn’t care much for Jiraiya, but then began to like him more with my portrayal and that’s more than fine; I take it as the highest compliment in fact. It’s also the kind of open-minded attitude I like to have with portrayals of characters I don’t necessarily like or have much interest in, because by and large, people do tend to add more depth and nuance than the busy and character-packed canon allowed.

However, if it’s the type of hate that’s got its own devoted circle of bitter bitches, who seem to use so much energy hating a character... then please, don’t engage me. Doesn’t matter who the character is, don’t expect me to follow/keep following your negative ass if it’s constant on the dash—and if the target character is any of the Sannin then frankly I’ll have probably blocked/blacklisted in a heartbeat. The ‘critical’ views of them tend to diminish them as humans, diminish the context and events that surrounded their choices, and in a way that I find is a gross double standard compared to what people will allow other (read: young, attractive, fandom faves, ‘babies’ or ‘beans’) to get away with and excuse the behaviours of. I don’t need that kinda negative energy sullying my hobby, nor do I need moral superiority that isn’t applied consistently across the board.

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors? — Absolutely! I meticulously fret and check, and cringe when I get a reply and happen to spot errors while rereading what I wrote before it! I edit a lot but don’t always pick up on errors, so I’m more than happy to have it pointed out. Chances are, I’ll be far more brutal to myself about it than anyone else would be!

Do you think you are easy going as a mun? — Overall, yeah. I’m not possessive or clingy (I don’t think) and don’t expect the world from people, nor for them to focus on or favour me or be super fast. I just expect the same respect in return. Having said that, I will express it when I don’t like something or it makes me uncomfortable, provided we’re familiar enough, because if we’re strangers I’d feel like I was coming across as entitled to your energy and emotional labour. I do my best to be diplomatic about it though, and rest assured it doesn’t mean I’m forever mad at you or turned off in any way just because I have a small grievance. I just find that being honest with each other rather than letting things pile up and fester makes a friendship more solid, and basically more genuine and long-lasting.

That’s about it, congrats for filling out!

Tagged by: @dokuhebi Tagging: Whoever hasn’t done this yet!

#this got super long yikes #{dash games}#{ooc}#{long post}

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kukuiolelo · 6 years

Text

Da Kine: A Hawaiian!Hunk Fic

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Pairings: Background Keith/Lance

Summary: "Uh, Hunk, buddy, did you just call Coran ‘Uncle’?” The Paladins are far from home, really really far. As the mission goes on, Hunk begins to fall back into habits he tried to leave a thousand light years away on a small island chain in the middle of the Pacific.

AO3

Uncle

The first time was a slip up.

The night had been going pretty smoothly, Hunk thought, all things considered. They, that is to say the team, was gathered in the communal living space in wing of the castle that was designated a “meeting area,” mostly due to its proximity to food and copious soft furniture.

The meetings original objective, to debrief on the latest Galra abomination of the week, was abandoned quickly in favor of Lance and Keith's latest tiff. The details were fuzzy, but what mattered was Lance had Keith in a headlock who was, in turn, kicking at him in the shins.

“It’s like some strange mating ritual,” Pidge observed from her position on the arm of the couch. Hunk hummed his agreement and went back to doodling schematics on the back of some scrap paper. “You know,” Pidge said, “It’s a wonder they haven't gotten over themselves and just… Is Keith turning blue to you?”

Keith was, in fact, turning slightly purple, due to Galra or lack of oxygen, it was not clear. He kicked at Lance with a renewed vigor, cursing him out, only partially in English. “I wonder what that is, the language, I mean,” Hunk said, looking up from the table.

Pidge hummed, “I think it’s Korean. Something like, 'fuck you', I think.”

"How'd you know?" Hunk asked.

"I used to listen to a lot of kpop"

“Huh,” Hunk said, “fucking weeabo.” Pidge flipped him off absentmindedly, still staring blankly at the fight.

Allura looked up at the boys, pursing her lips. She nudged Shiro in the side, and when he didn't respond, she elbowed him a bit harder, and harder, and harder until he curled away from her, holding his side, and whispered a betrayed ‘ow!’ She looked at him pointedly, before turning her eyes sharply to look at Lance, who was whispering something in what was probably some very creative Spanish.

Shiro responded to her glare with a blank look and a shrug of his shoulders. She rolled her eyes with a huff, and repeated the motion, this time punctuating each look with a punch to the shoulder. His head tilted to the side with yet another pondering look, before realization dawned and he nodded.

“Alright, you two, that’s enough,” Shiro said. He marched up to the pair, who fell apart reluctantly. “Besides Lance, your form is sloppy, you need to turn your elbow in more. Here, like this.” He then proceeded to demonstrate said technique on a very indignant Lance, much to the amusement of his former victim. Allura put her fingers to her temples, taking in a deep breath

Hunk slapped his knees with finality and stood. “Well, I’m out,” Hunk said, “I’m going to go make dinner.”

Coran popped out of his seat as well. “I’ll come help lad,” he said. “I imagine you could use and extra pair of hands.”

“Yeah, sure,” Hunk said as he gathered his papers. “Thanks Uncle.”

The chatter fell silent for a moment. Shiro glanced up from his captive, who wriggled free of his hold. Allura turned towards Coran with a quizzical expression, who only shrugged. Finally, Lance spoke, rubbing his neck, “Uh, Hunk, buddy, did you just call Coran ‘uncle’?”

Hunk started. “What? No, no,” Hunk shook his head, hands held up. “No, I called him, um… shmunkle?”

Keith cocked his head to the side, “Shmunkle?”

Hunk stuttered. “It’s a- well I- and- Oh, shut up.”

Pidge scooted forward on the couch and had taken to looking at him over interlaced fingers. She looked calculating, studying, the same way she was over a perplexing line of code, and seemed about to say something. Before she could, Lance chipped in.

“Is there something you’re not telling us bud?” Lance said, a playful gleam in his eyes, “Do we have two part aliens on the team, I mean if anyone was going to be Altean it would be you, besides me of course-” Hunk glanced over at Shiro with a pleading look. He saw Shiro nod imperceptibly before he stepped forward.

“Alright guys,” Shiro cut in, “Leave him alone.”

Hunk shot Shiro a grateful look. He cleared his throat and four pairs of eyes turned to him. “Right,” he said, “As I was saying, any votes on dinner?”

The team shouted out their input, ‘not goo’ being the dominant sentiment. Hunk flashed a thumbs up before running back to the kitchen, the door slamming behind him. He could still hear the others talking from the other side of the door.

“So Coran’s our uncle now?” There was a general murmur of confusion and assent. Hunk scoffed and rolled his eyes.

A pause, and then, “Lance is this another one of your mee-mees?”

Lance groaned. “It’s pronounced memes, Keith, we’ve been over this!”

“But it’s spelled mee-mee.”

“No- well yes technically, but it's pronounced- You know it feels like you’re just fucking with me at this point.”

“Then why is it spelled mee-mee?”

“Dude, I don’t know!”

Pidge piped in. “English is a garbage fire.” Shiro, Keith, Lance, and surprisingly Allura seemed to agree with this.

At that moment, Coran stepped into the kitchen. He grinned, twirling his moustache. “So, Uncle...”

Hunk buried his face in his hands. “Long story Coran.”

Coran chuckled. “If you say so lad”

Hunk shot him a look. “Seriously, long story.” He turned towards the refrigerating unit and considered its contents. Uncle, that was a slip. Hunk wasn’t embarrassed of his upbringing, not really. He didn’t have an accent like a lot of people did, his English at the Garrison was 100% mainlander. But, old habits die hard, he thought, and he had been on the mainland for quite a while, long enough that his team would barely comment on any slightly less than middle America peculiarities. That being said, they did tend to pry, and with how much everyone missed their families and their home, that stone was better left unturned.

He closed the fridge with an armful of ingredients and threw a purple thing at Coran. “Mince this for me, I’ll start on the starch.” He turned to the counter and started cooking, and by the time he put dinner on the table, the Uncle incident was all but forgotten.

Loco Moco

When time zones cease to exist, one’s circadian rhythms can become slightly out of whack. It was a few hours before the castle would wake up and the lights would brighten. Hunk padded into the kitchen and fumbled along the walls for the light dimmer. The lights turned on with a small whine.

The fridge was stocked well enough. A trip to a nearby planet, one with a downright toxic atmosphere but surprisingly edible animal products, had stocked them with a good supply of meat and what could pass as eggs. Hunk pondered the contents of the fridge. The others wouldn’t be up any time soon. Yesterday’s mission, yet another standoff with the Galra fleet, had been rough. Keith, after charging headfirst through a line of battle cruisers, was really dinged up, and Shiro, who’d been targeted again by the main destroyer class command ship, looked like shit. After that, no one would muster the effort or wakefulness to eat together any time before noon.

And that’s why Hunk was now standing, bleary eyed in front of the alien fridge at what must be around four AM, Earth time, pondering what to eat for breakfast. There was meat, lots of it, and a good few dozen of the egg-like things. It felt like an age since Hunk had made a good breakfast for himself, and only himself. In fact, the last time was back home. His mom had spent the night on the North Shore with a friend from school and Hunk was left the house to himself for the morning. He got up around seven and started on a good, heavy, traditional local meal, with meat and eggs and rice and...

Hunk started to grab ingredients out of the fridge, some minced fatty meat, three of the egg-like things, leftover grains from a few nights ago. He didn’t have exactly the right spices, and the milk always made things taste a bit like paperclips, but it would do. He began mixing the meat, eggs, and a few approximate spices. As long as it had been, it wasn’t a recipe you forget. Hell, it wasn’t a recipe you even had to remember. All you had to do was make a hamburger patty, make some gravy, and fry an egg. Hunk proceeded to do just this, frying up his components and stirring together a gravy over the still disconcertingly cyan cooktop. Just as he began to plate his food, the door slid open to reveal Lance, resplendent in his fuzzy bathrobe and facemask.

“Morning Lance,” Hunk said, returning to the task at hand. “How are you?”

Lance shuffled towards the machine that made a liquid almost like coffee. “Better than Keith, that’s for sure,” he said, “Yesterday was a fucker.” He took a sip of his coffee and moaned. “God, how are you even awake?”

Hunk shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.” He placed the fried eggs in the bowl and went to load the dishwasher. He came back to see Lance leaning over the table to stare into his bowl with a mix of curiosity and horror.

“What even is this dude?” he said, poking at the bowl with a fork. “Is that a hamburger and gravy? I can feel my pores clogging just looking at this. Hey, Pidge!”

Pidge stuck her head through the door looking like for all the world like a bespectacled owl who’s gone through a wind turbine. She stumbled through the room and dropped herself in the seat across from Lance and dropped her head on the table with a thunk. After a few seconds of tired mumbling, she reached across the table to snag Lance’s coffee and downed it in a few gulps, staunchly ignoring his affronted stuttering. Finally, she looked back up at the pair and blinked. “What?”

“Um, Pidge,” Hunk said, “have you slept?”

“Sleep is for the weak.”

“Yeah, also the dead,” Lance said.

“Same difference.” She looked into her, formally Lance’s, cup and groaned. “Get me coffee?”

Lance sighed. “Yeah, yeah.” He took Pidge’s cup.

Hunk looked at her with worry. “Pidge you really should sleep.”

Pidge waved him off. “Sleep later, coffee now.” The coffee machine hissed and bubbled and Lance came back with two cups, one for himself and one for Pidge. “Fuck, yes.” She grabbed the cup from the table and took another sip. “So yeah, you wanted something. What?”

Hunk took a minute to remember what she was referring to. Lance, however, beat him to the punch, and pointed at the bowl on the counter. “Look at that, tell me it doesn’t look like heart disease.”

Pidge leaned over the bowl. “Is that gravy and eggs?” she said. “Hunk what is this?”

Hunk rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a loco moco,” he said, “just some food from back home.”

Lance stalled, staring at the bowl, and blinked. “Crazy boogers? Loco moco. Crazy boogers. Seriously?”

Pidge, still staring into the bowl, smacked her lips tiredly and looked up at Hunk. “It looks like hangover food, dude.”

Hunk pulled the bowl away from the pair with an affronted huff. “How would you know, you’re like, what, twelve?”

Lance put his hands together in a ‘let’s talk about this’ way. “Seriously, it’s called crazy boogers. Why is a food from your home called crazy boogers?”

Hunk sighed. “I don’t know, it just is.” He sat down and took a bite. “Damn, needs shoyu.” Lance and Pidge looked at him, befuddled. Hunk corrected. “Soy sauce.”

“Oh,” Pidge said, “Just use butter and salt.” Both Hunk and Lance looked at her in horror.

Hunk pulled his dish away from her further. “Don’t you dare.”

Lance seemed to shake himself. “Seriously, crazy boogers-”

Hunk dropped his head and groaned. “Oh my god, guys,” he said, “Let me eat in peace.” He took another bite out of the hamburger. “Or I will be making these for breakfast for a week.”

Lance raised his hands in surrender. “All right, all right.” He nudged Pidge in the arm. “Hey, let’s take bets. Who will wake up first, Keith or Shiro? Dibs on Shiro.”

Hunk tapped the table. “My bet’s on Keith.”

Pidge raised her hand. “Stumbling in at the same time.”

“You are on.” Lance clapped her on the back. “So what the hell was up with those green things yesterday.”

The conversation devolved slowly as Hunk finished his loco moco. A few hours later, once all the lights had brightened and both Coran and Allura had floated through, cheery and murderous respectively, Shiro and Keith staggered into the kitchen. “Huh, looks like Pidge won.” Hunk said. Pidge had fallen dead asleep an hour before, in the middle of a sentence no less.

Lance poked at her arm, with no response. “Shame she can’t be awake to see it.”

Keith looked around the kitchen in bleary confusion. He squinted and said, “Why does it smell like a Sonic drive-in in here?”

Lance raised his eyebrows and took a sip of his long cold coffee. “I don’t know, why don’t you ask Hunk?”

Hunk dropped his head into his arms. “Shut up.”

Ku’u Honua

Before the team had even landed on the planet of the week, it was pretty damn obvious there was going to be trouble.

As the lions touched down on one of the millions of islands that made up the land mass of the planet, a group of aliens scuttled out from the trees. They were diverse in appearance, like they were a mix of species rather than just one, and all with some kind of firearm strapped to their sides. The one at the front, a tall, broad alien with a line of triangles running down her leg, walked towards the lions shouting. “‘Ey! ‘Ey, wha’ chu doin hea? Chu wit dem fakas?”

Shiro’s voice crackled over the comms. “I’ll handle this.” He stepped out of his lion and the rest of the paladins following suit. He stepped forward, a hand raised in greeting. “Hello, we are the Paladins of Voltron. Have you seen any Galra on this island? Our intel indicates their force should be stationed here.”

The alien looked around at the paladins, brow furrowed. “Eh? Wha’ chu say?”

Shiro repeated. “We are the Paladins of Voltron, maybe you’ve heard of us?” The leader looked back at the others and shrugged. The other aliens looked around at each other awkwardly and began to shuffle their feet. The leader turned back to Shiro and shook her head.

Shiro frowned before he walked back towards the paladins, who’d gathered at the edge of the sand. Hunk spoke first. “Hey, what’s up?”

Shiro gestured back at the aliens. “I’m having some trouble understanding them,” Shiro said.

Lance snorted, “Yeah, we can tell.” He looked back at the aliens, who started to regroup on the edge of the treeline. “Maybe our translators are malfunctioning?”

“That could be it.” Shiro lifted his hand to his helmet and fiddled with some controls. “Princess, do you copy? We’re having problems communicating with the locals.”

Allura’s voice crackled through the comms, “I read you Shiro, what seems to be the problem?”

Hunk cleared his throat, “Um, guys I can try-”

Before Hunk could finish, Pidge cut in, “It’s not our translators, if it was we wouldn’t be able to understand Allura.” Pidge fiddled with her helmet’s onboard computer, scanning through lines of code, and frowned. “Nothing’s wrong with our systems either.”

Shiro nodded. “Princess, can you tell us anything about this planet?”

After a brief pause and the sound of typing, Allura said, “The Honuans, an amphibious sentient species from the planet Honua. Or at least, those were the natives. Many other species have settled here from other planets, for work, refuge, etc. They call themselves the Kanaka.” There was a pause over the line as Allura scrolled through the page. “However their languages have mixed. For some reason it never goes well through translators. We might be able to communicate with them another way, though.” She continued to type, muttering to herself under her breath

“Rodger that.” He switched off his helmet and turned back to the team. “Does anyone have any ideas?”

Hunk raised a hand, “Hey, guys?”

“Why do we even need to communicate with them?” Keith said, growing visibly impatient. “Why can’t we just look for the Galra ourselves?”

Allura’s voice broke in. “There are thousands of islands on this planet.” She said, the typing of a keyboard coming through the comms “To search all of them would take years.”

“Well what if we just fly above them,” Lance said, “Scan for anything Galra-”

Pidge broke in, shaking her head. “Are you seeing that jungle?” she said, “We won't be able to find jack if they don't want to be seen.” As the team argued, Hunk turned to look at the Kanaka. They were chattering amongst themselves in much the same way, glancing over at the paladins apprehensively. Hunk raised a hand in greeting and a few waved back, before turning back to the group. He turned back to hear Shiro speaking in that finalizing team plan voice and made a decision.

“OK,” Shiro said, “here’s the plan. Pidge, go high and use your scanners over the oceans. Lance and Keith, you check the big islands for anything suspicious, they might make a mistake. Hunk- Hunk? Hey Hunk, what-” Shiro turned to see Hunk walking over towards the Honuans, who were crouched on the ground by the treeline. They pushed themselves up, hands hovering by their weapons. He raised his hands and took a step closer.

Hunk cleared his throat, it had been a while for him. “Ey, chu ova dea!” His voice changed, harder on the consonants and more open on the vowels. The Kanaka perked up, listening, and a few hands fell away from their weapons.

The leader took a step forward. “Wha’ chu wan’? Chu guys one a dem fakas? Chu wit dem?” The Kanaka stopped her foot, rolling her shoulders with arms held away from her sides in a pretty universal ‘come at me, bro’ posture. “Chu wit dem, yea? Like scrap? Yea, les’ go, brah, les’ go.”

Shiro shifted. “Hunk?” Hunk looked back at the team, in various stages of curiosity and wariness, a few hands floating towards bayards. Hunk shot them a look before turning back to the Kanaka.

Hunk lifted his hands in a placating gesture. “Nah, nah nah nah, nah.” Hunk laughed and shook his head again. “Nah, we got big kine beef wit dem fakas.”

The Kanaka lowered her shoulders, hands falling to her sides. “Fo’ real?” The Kanaka in the background started to relax, falling out of defensive postures and speaking to each other in quiet tones.

Hunk turned back towards their leader and smiled. “Yea, yea, brah, we coo’.”

“Ah.” She relaxed and stepped a bit closer. “Oh, yea, wha’ chu wan’?”

“Chu see da kine purple guys?” Hunk gestured, indicating the average height of a Galra. “Look like one popoki?”

The Kanaka nodded.“Yea, brah, choke.” She made an expansive gesture with her hands and continued. “Dey wen’ go ova dea, dat islan’.” She pointed towards an island maybe a mile off with a large crater at the peak. “Mean kine luna tho, he go ova mauka. Big, da faka, hoowie!”

Hunk nodded, “Tanks auntie, dea an’ dea?” he pointed, first at the island, then up into the mountains.

She nodded. She looked back at the group with a questioning look before she seemed to make a decision. “Yea brah, we try sho’?” The other Kanaka nodded

“Shoots auntie!” Hunk smiled. “Guys,” He turned back towards the group, all in various stages of surprise, confusion, and curiosity, “The main Galra force is on that island over there, but their leader went up into the mountains for some reason.” He gestured towards the Kanaka, who were pulling each other up and talking amongst themselves, checking their weapons and packs. “They can takes us to where they last saw him.” He paused and looked around nervously. “Is that cool?”

Shiro considered for a moment and nodded. “That sounds good, Hunk.” He turned to the rest of the team. “All right team, here’s the plan.”

The walk up the mountain, while it was slightly awkward and technically a march to a possibly unspeakable evil, was some of the most fun Hunk had had in awhile. The leader, named Ohelo, was friendly, despite her initial hostility. They talked story, seemingly incomprehensible to the rest of the team, who trailed behind in relative silence. Ohelo stopped at the edge of the forest and pointed up at the barren craggy mountain. “Da luna small kine up mauka,” she said.

Hunk nodded. “Raga’,” he said, “Sua you no can go?” They had discussed the Kanaka leaving the islands for the time being, just until the Galra had been cleared out.

Ohelo shook her head “No can, choke keiki and kupuna ova hea.” She shrugged. “Bummas.”

“Yea, yeah, auntie,” Hunk said, “I gotchu.”

Ohelo looked out over the clearing, all the way up to where Hunk guessed the Galra were hiding. “Ey.” She grasped Hunks shoulder and looked at him seriously. “Chu no go make, yea?”

Hunk chuckled. “Yea, auntie. No sweats.”

Ohelo shook his shoulder and smiled. “Den go, chu lolos.”

“Ey!” Hunk laughed. He turned back towards the team, checking their weapons, and cleared his throat. “Hey guys, the leader is a bit further up that way.”

“All right, you all know the plan, let’s go.”

Hunk broke off with Lance to scan the base ridge for suspicious activity. Before they left the forest, Hunk turned back towards the Kanaka. “Ey auntie!” He raised a hand to about chest and flashed a shaka, first three fingers bent down and thumb and pinky held straight. “Tanks!” The Kanaka waved back and he turned to walk up the mountain.

“Um, Hunk?” Lance was looking at him curiously. “What...”

Hunk shrugged. “I’ll explain later.”

And that was, of course, when they stumbled upon a Galra security droid all hell broke loose. Now, Hunk thought, it would really have to wait for later.

A giant purple octopus and two very angry Honuan sharks later, the paladins returned to the castle battered, tired, and hungry. The castle dispensed the usual food goo and Hunk took it with a resigned reluctance. This wasn’t real food, and God if he missed being able to pick up a spam musubi from 7-11 or a surf pac from Zippy’s. He dropped down onto the floor next to the couch and pondered his plate. Pidge sat on the arm of the couch and grunted.

Hunk dropped his head to the table. “Yeah, same.” He felt Pidge fall back onto the couch.

“Hey buddy.” Hunk looked up to see Lance leaning over the table. Hunk hummed in response before dropping his head back on the table. “Aw come on, don’t be like that, scootch over.” Hunk sat up and complied, and Lance sat down next to him. “Thanks, but you’ve still got to explain the thing.”

Hunk looked at him quizzically. “What thing?”

“You know,” Lance gestured vaguely. “The thing. The thing with the talking with the Honuans.” He spread his hands. “Duh.”

Hunk groaned. “Kanaka.”

“What?”

“They prefer to be called the Kanaka. I asked.”

Lance pointed at him. “Yeah, that’s the thing. We couldn’t understand, like, ninety percent of what you guys were saying. Come on, Pidge, tell him.” He nudged Pidge in the leg and she hummed groggily.

“What?” She said.

“Hunk talking with the Honuans-”

“Kanaka,” Hunk corrected.

“Kanaka, sorry. Hunk talking with the Kanaka, you couldn’t understand that right?”

“Nope.” Pidge said. She yawned. “You’re going to explain that? Hey guys,” She sat up to yell into the kitchen. “Hunk’s going to explain how he talked to the Kanaka.” Keith and Shiro wandered in, Shiro looking worn out, as usual, Keith looking like a drowned cat and still grumpy from the healing pod. Shiro looked around the room before he sighed and dropped into the nearest chair. Keith stalked through with a bowl of something from the kitchen and climbed onto the back of the sofa.

Keith took a bite of what might have been cereal, or maybe ground meat. Hunk winced. He pointed the spoon at Hunk and scowled. “Talk.”

Hunk sighed and raised his hands in surrender. “They were speaking pidgin.” This was met with confused looks. “Spelled P I D G I N, not like the bird. It’s a language, kind of, or maybe a dialect, from Hawai’i. It’s just how we speak sometimes with friends or whatever.”

Pidge frowned. “Why did a bunch of aliens speak pidgin?”

“I don’t know dude, they just did.” Hunk shrugged. “And you guy’s weren’t making any headway so...” He trailed off. It felt like every eye was on him. He took a bite of food goo.

Lance clapped him on the shoulder, nearly making him choke. “Well thanks for saving our asses with your weird hidden accent, God our lives are weird.”

Shiro, silent up until this point, smacked his forehead. “Pidgin,” he said, “God, it was pidgin.” Keith looked at him curiously, along with more or less everyone else in the room. He noticed the looks and explained. “I was in an exchange student program to Honolulu in high school, I should have recognized-”

Hunk waved him off. “Nah, you couldn’t have recognized it. They were talking pretty thick. What school were you at?”

Shiro thought for a moment. “Punahou, I think. We visited ‘Iolani too.”

Hunk laughed. “Yeah, no. No one there speaks pidgin, definitely not with exchange students.” He shook his head, smiling. They tried, but those kids spoke like junior professors sometimes. “You want to hear pidgin, try Aiea. Or hell, try Kaua’i, some of them talk it like it’s the 1960s.”

Keith finished chewing a mouthful of his whatever it was and set down the bowl. He squinted at Hunk. “Is that why you called Coran uncle that time?”

Hunk groaned. “I thought we were going to forget about that?”

Lance shook his head with a shit eating grin. “We are never going to let that go, I thought you knew us.”

Hunk growled and threw his hands in the air. “It’s a thing, ok! You’re like ten years older than me, you’re uncle or auntie. It’s how we talk, for God’s sake. I don’t make fun of you guys for your weird accents.”

Pidge raised her arm from the couch. “Petition to mercilessly mock Keith every time he says ‘y’all’, say aye.”

Lance raised his hand. “Seconded.”

“Hey! I don’t say it that much.”

Hunk raised his hand as well. “Yeah, honestly, you do.”

“Come on.” Keith pointed his spoon at the couch. “Honestly, if y’all-” Keith stopped, blinking like a confused fish, and started over. “I mean if it ain’t for y’alls- I mean youse- Stop laughing!” He scrunched up his nose and took another bite of stuff, hopefully food.

“See, Keith? Do you see?” Lance said. “Shiro agrees with me, right Shiro?”

The room turned towards Shiro. He looked around before sighing, resigned to his fate, dropping his face into his hand, and slowly raising the other. Keith whined. “Shiro!”

Shiro looked for all the world like a man who’d lost all hope. “Do you even hear yourself any more? I- I don’t even know where you got that accent.”

“Yeah, this is an intervention, Keith.” Pidge leaned forward on her elbows. “Time to face the music.”

Keith sputtered. “I- Just-” He picked up his bowl and growled, “Fuck y’all.” and stormed out of the room.

Hunk couldn’t help but smile as he heard Keith fume in the kitchen. Finally, Lance pulled himself up. “I’ll go cool him off.” he said. Hunk gave him an incredulous look. “What? We’ve been bonding.” Lance headed off for the kitchen, and Hunk shrugged. He picked up his bowl of food goo and left the meeting area with a few goodnights to the sound of increasingly quiet Texan cussing. As he walked back towards his room, he chuckled to himself. “That,” he whispered, “went better than I thought.”

Manapua

Not all missions are created equal. Some are long, stressful affairs that take weeks of planning and days of fighting, some are hard and fast, a few hours of intense, white knuckled battle followed by a day of cleanup, some are tense and tedious, operations with little to no intel going in and so, so much nerve wracking waiting.

This mission, the one scheduled for tomorrow morning, was none of those. This mission was easy and simple, they knew the deal going in, there were no civilians to clear, and the objective was some uncomplicated sabotage. It would take half a day, at most, by Hunk’s estimates, and there would be plenty of time afterward for cleanup without technically needing to stop at the castle first. So, of course, they would need a lunch.

Hunk carefully lifted the last baking tray out of the oven and set it on the counter. The buns looked good, from a visual inspection, golden brown and lovely. He didn't have a stamp, even if it was traditional, but he did get something close to char siu for the filling. Hunk started to clean as the buns cooled.

Just as he put away the last of the ingredients, Hunk heard someone shuffle into the kitchen. Lance stood in the doorway, eyes squinting in the light. “Hey bud,” Lance said.

Hunk waved a hand over the manapua, checking for temperature, before he began to transfer them to a plastic container. “Hey, what’s up?”

“You, apparently. What’re you even doing?”

“Just finishing up a recipe.” Hunk moved a few more of the buns. “You should be in bed already.”

Lance yawned. “Pot and kettle, bro.”

“All right, I’m just finishing up.” Hunk transferred the last few things and put the container in the fridge. “Night Lance.”

“Yeah yeah, night.” Lance raised a hand in farewell and stumbled off to bed. Hunk placed the baking tray in the dishwasher, checked the oven one last time, and began to wipe down the counter. This, at least, would make tomorrow a bit more interesting.

The mission ended more or less as expected. No unexpected purple abominations were discovered, nor were any life altering secrets revealed. The lions settled on the cliff edge where the base used to be, and the paladins by mutual routine stepped out for a breather.

“Never again.” Pidge dropped back onto the ground with a groan. “I am never being bait for you again.”

Lance sat down next to her. “Speak for yourself. Better you than hothead over here.” He gestured towards Keith’s prone form.

Keith grunted in agreement. “Fair.”

Shiro dismounted from his lion and cleared his throat to get the team’s attention. “Status report, how is everyone?”

Lance raised his hand. “Present, no damage on Blue.”

Keith sat up. “Same here. No damage on Red either.”

“Present,” Pidge said, “Green’s sensors were damaged, but it’s nothing urgent.”

“Can you make it back to the castle?” Shiro asked.

“Yup.” Pidge nodded. “She’ll be fine.”

“Good,” Shiro said. “No damage on Black. Hunk?” Shiro turned towards the lions. “Hunk? Has anyone seen Hunk?” His shoulders tensed, his Galra hand held rigid away from his side. Keith rolled into a crouch, and his hand dropped to his bayard.

The door to the yellow lion opened. “Sorry!” Hunk said, “Present. Yellow’s fine. Hey, I brought lunch.” Hunk dismounted from the lion with an armful of paper bags. He tossed one to Shiro.

Shiro fumbled to catch the bag. “Thank you, Hunk. What is it?”

“No problem. Manapua, try it.” Hunk finished passing out the bags. “I thought you guys would be hungry, dig in.” He sat down next to Pidge and took a bite of his own. Keith took one of the buns out of the bag and took a mouthful. Lance and Pidge leaned over, looking at the half eaten manapua.

“Why is it red?” Lance said. Hunk looked up to see something like confusion on their faces.

Hunk shrugged. “It just is, ok.”

Pidge tilted her head to the side. She whispered to Lance, “Is meat supposed to be red?”

Lance whispered back “Dude, I don’t know.”

Around another mouthful of bread, Keith mumbled something that sounded like, “It’s food, just eat it.”

Hunk rolled his eyes and continued to eat. Shiro tore it open curiously and took a careful bite. “It is rather red. Is this normal?” Hunk rolled his eyes and nodded in lieu of a spoken answer.

Pidge pulled hers apart and looked at it suspiciously. After a minute of staring she looked up at Lance. “It’s like my food is bleeding.”

Hunk groaned and looked up at the sky. “Holy quiznak, guys,” he said, a little louder than usual, “You all are such haoles, eat the damn manapua!”

The translation software on their helmets clicked on and began to read aloud.

Haole: Usage, Hawaiian Creole English or Pidgin. Hawaiian translation, stranger or foreigner. Modern usage, an individual of exclusively or predominantly European descent. Example, a haole friend of mine went to Zippy’s and ordered teri beef with mashed potatoes.

An awkward silence fell as the group scanned the people to which Hunk was referring, more specifically Takashi Shirogane, Keith Kogane, Lance McClain, and lastly, Pidge Gunderson, the only caucasian for roughly 10,000 light years. Hunk felt his face go red. “Mainlanders,” he said, “I mean mainlanders. You’re all such mainlanders.” He took another bite of a manapua, pointedly not making eye contact. “Just eat it, you lolos.”

Keith leaned over at Shiro and whispered. “Did he just call us white?”

Lance snorted. “Dude, he called me white.” He gestured at himself with a free hand. “Me. I resent that statement.” Hunk groaned and hid his face in his hand.

Pidge raised her hand. “I resemble that statement,” she said.

“Sorry,” Hunk said, his voice muffled by his hands.

Lance laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Nah, it’s fine buddy.” Hunk looked up to see Lance grinning widely. “But, oh my God, we are never letting this go.”

Pidge nodded. “That is very improbable.” She sniffed at the manapua again, less wary than before. After one last poke, she shrugged and took a bite. Her eyebrows raised as she chewed. “Hm, not bad.”

Keith gestured at her pointedly. “The haole ate it, Lance,” he said, ”Suck it up and eat the bread meat thing.” Hunk choked on a laugh and a mouthful of manapua. Keith, oblivious, continued. “It’s bread and it’s meat, what more do you want?”

Hunk swallowed and cleared his throat. “Thank you, Keith.” He turned towards Lance. “See? Keith will eat it, Pidge will eat it, just try, for God’s sake.”

Lance raised his eyebrows. “I’ve seen Keith eat a space possum,” he said, “He’s not a high bar to jump, Hunk.” Even so, Lance took a bite. His expression rapidly changed from trepidation, to surprise, to enjoyment. “Ok, I’ll admit, not as bloody as it looks.” He took another bite.

Hunk snorted. “Just be glad I didn’t make you Spam musubi.”

He heard Lance choke. “Spam what? I am not eating Spam, buddy.”

Hunk smirked. “Yeah you will, I’ll get you eventually.” He looked at the slightly appalled faces of everyone but Keith. “I’ll get you all, believe it.”

Pidge blinked, a delighted smile spreading across her face. “Was that- Hunk was that Naruto.”

Hunk froze. “What? No, I-”

“Holy fucking quiznak it was!” Pidge stood up, pointing at Hunk triumphantly. “You’re wearing a headband, oh my god you’re-” She dissolved into giggles. “You’re a fucking weeaboo!”

“Hey, you’re the one who recognized it.” Hunk pointed back at her.“Judge not, lest you yourself be judged or whatever.” Lance raised a hand, held out towards Hunk for a high five. ”You too?” Lance shrugged unapologetically.

Shiro scratched his head. “Believe it,” he said. All eyes turned towards him. “Is that a thing from the English dub?”

Hunk shook his head in disbelief. “No.”

Meanwhile, Pidge punched the air. “YES!”

“What are y’all even talking about?” All eyes snapped to Keith.

“So you’ve never...” Lance said.

“Never,” said Pidge, “Not ever.”

Keith looked at them incredulously. “I grew up in a hut in the desert in Texas.” He spread his hands. “What do y’all think?”

Pidge stared off into space with a delighted smile on her face. “Boys, we have a job to do. Naruto marathon, at the castle, in Keith’s room, right now.”

“Not so fast,” Shiro said, “We still have a mission to finish here. After cleanup, you can, but until-” Lance and Pidge were in their lions before he even finished the sentence.

Let’s just say cleanup was much, much more efficient than usual.

Kuleana

There was a routine in the castle. What else would you expect? All but one of it’s residents had been military in one form or another, and this manifested in more than a few ways. Besides the obvious, everyday, and downright bizarre signs, many a time salt shakers had been literally thrown across the table, the most notable hangover was that of the chore schedule.

Today, it was Lance’s turn to do the dishes. Hunk knew this, and he knew Lance was present and accounted for, and he knew the state of the castle presented no current emergencies, but even still, there were the dishes, unwashed, in the sink.

“Hey, Lance?” Hunk called. “Lance!” He wasn’t in the common room, nor was he in the kitchen or his room or anywhere else Hunk looked. In the end, Hunk found him in the gym, predictably, in hindsight, as that was where Keith was.

Lance was leaning against a wall with his most flirty smile. “Hey, are you a photographer?” he said to Keith.

Keith barely paused in doing pushups. “What.”

“Because,” Lance continued unperturbed. “Baby, I could picture you and me together.”

Keith actually stopped his circuit to look up at Lance. “Why would you think I’m a photographer?”

“No Keith I mean-” Lance floundered, then started over. “Are you from Tennessee-”

“No, I’m from Texas.”

Hunk figured it would be a good time to step in. “Lance, could I talk to you?”

Lance glanced over at him. “Hmm? Oh yeah sure.” He trotted over to Hunk. “What is is? Quick, I think I’m making progress.”

Hunk exhaled slowly. This would call for drastic measures. He placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder and steered him out into the hallway. He turned Lance toward him and sighed. “Ok buddy,” he said, being sure to make eye contact, “Now we’ve all got a job to do, we’ve all got our kuleana here. Do you know what kuleana means?”

Lance shook his head. “No I don’t, what does it mean?” he said skeptically.

“It means responsibility. It means your responsibility to those around you, the earth, and everything on it. But it also means privilege. Your kuleana is an honor, and you do your kuleana, not just to stop bad things from happening or to get attention, you do it because it’s your kuleana and that’s what’s pono.” He pulled Lance next to him, his arm wrapped around his shoulders. “The paladins’ kuleana is to protect the galaxy. It’s a huge job, but we’re doing it, because the lions and the universe are our kuleana. It is an important responsibility.” Hunk turns his head to look at Lance. “And so is yours. Your kuleana is to do the damn dishes tonight.” He cuffed him on the back of the head. “Now stop making eyes at Keith and go was up, you lolo.”

Lance scurried towards the kitchen, looking sufficiently cowed. Shiro, previously standing in the doorway of the gym, walked towards Hunk. “How the hell...” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. “Huh. How did you-”

Hunk shrugged. “Kuleana lecture,” he said simply, “Works every time.”

“Huh.” Shiro blinked, still visibly confused, before he seemed to give in. He disappeared into the gym, and through the door Hunk could hear muffled muttering.

“How did he-”

“Still no idea.”

Hunk smiled to himself and set about his own chores. The dishes were clean within the hour.

Fakas

Some missions were easy and some missions were hard, but some missions were downright brutal. Hunk dodged out of the way of yet another small fleet of Galra fighters, biting back the litany swears at the tip of his tongue. Few others offered the same courtesy. The comm link was flooded with profanity in more languages than Hunk could track. Lance swerved past, tailed by two long range guided missiles. “Chingate!” Lance yelled over the comms, desperately weaving in and out of nearby rock formations, “Tu madre es una puta fea- CHINGATE!” Blue made a sharp turn around a large spire and the missiles exploded against it. “HA,” Lance crowed, “Besa mi culo, puto.”

Shiro’s voice cut through the line. “All right cut the chatter. We need to form-�� A heavy collision sounded over the comms. “SHIMATTA- Form Voltron NOW.” Another volley of shots whizzed past. “Formation!” Hunk veered away from the Galra fighters, just barely avoiding a collision with a ship. He ascended into open skies while Lance gave cover fire at the fleet at his back. Keith spun in the air, as he scanned for melee targets. Red turned suddenly into a steep dive, and Hunk heard Keith roar and he ripped through a Galra cruiser aimed at Lance. “Form up, form up!”

Lance shouted over the maelstrom of shots. “Where’s Pidge?” Several curses cut through the sound of gunfire. Hunk could hear her swearing over the comms, quick and multilingual, and nothing she spoke fluently.

Hunk scanned the horizon for the green lion. A battalion of Galra fighters spun like bugs near the rock formations, and in the center a green speck. “There!” Hunk yelled. “Shiro, on your four o clock.”

The black lion spun towards her. “Pidge, respond!” Shiro snapped. “Get out of there!”

The green lion swerved a hard left. “I’m trying- SCHEISSE.” A spearhead of Galra followed her screeching ascent. “Fatue! Tcho za galima, ba’Qa shit shit shit.”

“Lance, cover fire.” Shiro ordered. Lance said some choice words in Spanish and began to fire holes in the formation, covering her retreat. She swerved into her place, still muttering invectives. The Galra fleet began to reform below them. “Form Voltron!” The team did so under heavy fire, shield formed before the legs even clicked into place. Just as the giant robot man unsheathed it’s sword, a missile the size of a bus launched from the flagship, aimed not towards them, but towards the castle. The castle, where the entire refugee population of the planet was being housed.

Hunk, of course, reacted. “Ho, chu FAKA.” Hunk roared. Voltron’s sword sliced the missile in half as it hurtled towards the Galra ship. Hunk whooped as they sped downwards, winding up before the yellow foot of Voltron rammed into the bow of the Galra battleship in a punt kick that sent it spinning. Something important sounding crunched. “CHEE HOOO.” The ship careened into the ground and exploded as it’s magazine apparently caught a spark. The surrounding fleets dived towards the wreck in a desperate attempt to rescue survivors, leaving the way clear to destroy the objective. They did so thoroughly before retreating to the castle.

As they cleared the stratosphere, Pidge huffed. “Well,” she said hesitantly, “That worked.”

The comms fell silent as Hunk muttered sharply in pidgin. “Try come ova oua side, yea?” Hunk chuffed harshly. “Yea dey wan scrap, yea I give dem scrap...”

“Hunk, buddy?” Lance said, “You need to explain that better to us sometime, yeah?”

Hunk snapped out of his string of threats. “Wha’ chu say?” He blinked, then corrected himself. “Oh, oh right. Yeah, just an old habit, but chee dem fakas...” He broke off into another string of pidgin. “Hoowie, we’re retreating right? We should do that.”

“Yeah.” Voltron climbed steadily into the sky, then broke off into the five lions.

“Y’know y’all,” Keith said, “I’ve got to agree with Hunk.” The lions touched down in the hangers, where Coran waited. “They’re fuckers.”

ʻOhana

Across the galaxy, the Paladins were widely known. News often traveled fast between the planets, Galra censorship be damned. Each paladin was known, remembered details through every sighting and small interaction. They knew of the clever green paladin with a love for robots, the brash red and his Galra ancestry, the flirty blue with an eye for marksmanship, the stoic black with a robotic hand. But, when news travelled that Voltron was coming to help, the most widely anticipated, the most widely loved, was Hunk. If you were in trouble, they said, hope for the yellow paladin, kind and steadfast.

They said he was big and strong as a tank, wielding a massive cannon like it weighed nothing. They said he was a mechanic, able to understand engines and thrusters he had never seen before, and able to repair anything, from the largest turbine to the smallest wiring, with ease. They said he could cook, quite well in fact, and if you took him to your kitchens he would make something incredible from mere scraps. And, they said, he could communicate directly with the Honuans.

The paladins did make another trip to Honua. The islands torched by the Galra were devastated, and rehabilitation efforts were far underway. Hunk went to greet Ohelo and her hui and ask her how they could help. She had hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, and then promptly ordered the other paladins off to help on other islands. She took Hunk aside and they talked story in rapid fire pidgin. She asked if he had found a boy or a girl he liked and Hunk responded with a scandalized “Auntie!” They left soon enough. Ohelo and her hui met at the beach to bade them farewell. Ohelo herself sent Hunk off with a hug and an order to not break too many hearts. Hunk hugged her back and agreed that he would try.

Hunk slipped into using more and more pidgin, on and off Honua. Lance and Pidge caught themselves using picked up vocabulary, asking for ‘da kine’ at dinner and responding to queries for a marathon movie night with ‘shoots!’.

Hunk began to cook more local food. He fried spam and portuguese sausage for a breakfast fried rice and served up plates of loco moco at all hours. And, even though Pidge still salted her rice, an action that made Hunk physically wince, he couldn’t help but love how his friends would dig into whatever salty and greasy thing he put on the table.

The onboard refrigerator, only found on the lions after someone stuck their bayard in the wrong place, were soon stocked with pog and spam musubi. Lance and Pidge would complain, of course, speculating how much of pog really is juice and what distasteful creatures went into the spam, Hunk still had to refill the coolers every week. They’d sometimes just stop, after a mission or just before one, on some grassy hill and eat in silence, each with a musubi in one hand and a carton of pog in the other.

When you got down to it, it tasted like family. Salty, carb laden family.

#voltron #Hawaiian Hunk #hunk garrett #fanfic #mine

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deltaengineering · 6 years

Text

Bummer Anime 2018 Part 2: shoujo to the rescue

It got better, mostly because it could hardly get worse. That doesn’t mean it was a smooth ride, of course. I would like to state, for the record, that I’m not trying to be the funny guy who hates everything here; the season’s just that unusually bad. As before, the source for the ad copy at the end of each block is this.

Asobi Asobase

What: A bunch of assholes play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

✅ It’s another exuberant comedy, and unlike Chio-chan, I can’t catch this one on the execution: It has the technical chops and honestly good comedic timing.

❌❌ Initially wants to make you believe it’s a pleasant cute girls doing cute things show, but what it actually is is a brutally annoying and ugly explosion in the reactionface factory. Since the production values are there, it’s rather too good at that.

❌❌ I was trying to compare it to something, and the best I could come up with was rage comics. Yeah, it’s anime rage comics. It’s that bad.

❌❌ I would feel more benevolent towards it if it were shorter, but at full length its high energy screaming based assault is mostly just tiresome.

♎ This is one of those rare shows where even I will say your mileage may vary. It’s really good at what it does, but I hate everything it does. Hooray for the subversion, but at the end of the day you’re still annoying and ugly.

ANN sez: “It's this exact mix of stupid crassness and innocent naiveté that I think truly defines high-school life, and Asobi Asobase nails it perfectly. “

Hyakuren no Haou to Seiyaku no Valkyria

What: A smartphone with a light novel protagonist attached time travels to the bronze age, establishes a incest-fascist harem regime with the power of Wikipedia.

❌❌ read the synopsis again please

❌❌ there’s more idiocy than that, believe it or not (ex.: smartphone hotline to his actual imouto, for the feels), but I haven’t got all day.

❌❌ Basing your isekai shit on “history” (i.e., a LN author’s idiotic idea of history) instead of an MMO or whatever only serves to piss me off even more.

❌❌ Actually not better than Isekai Smartphone, which makes it one of the worst anime episodes I have ever seen. Congratulations. The only thing it has over Death March is that it doesn’t spend 80% of the time in menus, but it makes menus look pretty good so it’s a wash.

ANN brainfarts: “Yuuto also seems to be limiting his phone searches to historically accurate things as well, which shows that he's really thinking about the fact that he's in the past – no one's inventing the rocket here, they're just learning to grind grain and use the phalanx formation for battles.”

Phantom in the Twilight

What: Chinese girl travels to London, inadvertently inherits her great-grandma’s vampire harem.

✅ Step 1 of every otome harem appraisal is determining how much of a wet blanket the protagonist is; Ton here is pretty spunky and even gets to kick some ass, so well done on that.

✅ Some of the right kind of nonsense for my taste, stuff like chav goblins and Jiangshi with miniguns is always appreciated.

✅ Random shows ending up with bizarre minimal techno soundtracks is still something that I approve of.

❌ Still not the glorious kind of nonsense that Dance With Devils had, nor the disregard of actual romance in favor of comedy that Dame x Prince exhibited. It’s an otome-ass otome harem and that’s not inspiring confidence for the long term.

❌ Looks cheap, and that won’t be getting any better.

ANN sez: “The fantasy worldbuilding here also felt far more sturdy than in many similar shows; this isn't a world where the Good Fantasy Guys fight the Bad Fantasy Guys, this is a world where creatures like goblins and spriggans and werewolves all exist, all possess their own cultures and priorities, and uneasily rub shoulders with each other.”

Jashin-chan Dropkick

What: Demon snake girl wants to murder the chuuni gothloli that summoned her, gets owned right back.

❌❌ It’s the second coming of Dokuro-chan, with every punchline being torture. Quite literally for the characters, and consequently for the audience as well.

❌❌ Needless to say, the entire cast (there’s some additional supernatural babes, none of which make much of an impression) are jerks and the show being wantonly mean-spirited towards them does not cancel that out.

❌ Somehow the second anime about eating reptile ass in recent memory. But Maidragon, as lame as it was, wasn’t as terrible as this. Jashin-chan won’t get into insipid family feels any time soon, but the alternative is worse.

ANN sez: “If this is your taste in humor, it may be worth giving a second episode to see if it starts pulling that off.”

Kyoto Teramachi Sanjou no Holmes

What: Handsome genius antique dealer appraises old pottery and his assistant’s soul.

✅ I have to admit that if you somehow decided to make a otome version of Sherlock without anything so crass as murder, this is how you’d do it. It works.

✅ The leading pair has simple but effective chemistry.

✅ The studio behind it has mostly done porn OVAs before, which is the kind of meta-humor I can get behind.

❌ Based on a series of novels, so naturally the talkytalk gets out of hand.

❌ Doesn’t have the highest budget, tries to make up for it with rainbow-colored garishness. Not a dealbreaker but it could get tiresome.

ANN sez: “While Yagashira cuts a handsome figure as the bishonen, Aoi has more of an ordinary appearance – perhaps deliberately so, since I suspect that the source novels were originally aimed at female audiences.”

Shinya! Tensai Bakabon

What: Showa-era gag manga gets on air again after decades, repeatedly points out how hilarious that is.

❌ Beat-for-beat the same first episode concept as Osomatsu-san.

❌ The main difference is that Bakabon is more willing to look old as fuck, but when they arrive at the non-ruse look at the end of the episode, it’s the same as the non-ruse look that Osomatsu-san ended up at the end of its own first episode.

❌ So guess what, constantly takes potshots at Osomatsu-san, despite being a blatant ripoff of it.

❌❌ When it doesn’t reference Things You Know (if you’re a middle-aged Japanese salaryman), it references its own sorry showa-era gag manga self.

❌❌ I didn’t even like Osomatsu-san but this is an embarrassment.

♎ On the bright side, not as likely to provide fujos with incest shipping material. I fully expect to be proven painfully wrong on this.

ANN sez: Nothing. Way too Japanese for them, I suppose.

Angolmois - Genkou Kassenki

What: Historical action show wherein a bunch of misfits in medieval Japan fight the Mongols.

✅ Fairly decent action and animation thereof.

✅ Characters seem alright for this sort of thing. Maybe a bit too tryhard violent for my tastes, but that’s still within acceptable parameters.

❌❌ The looks are ruined in postproduction. I could live with the heavyhanded color correction, but what really kills it is the same omnipresent static paper texture over every single shot. It’s bad when it doesn’t change between shots but it’s devastating when it doesn’t move along with zooms and pans, which this show has a lot of.

❌❌ Seriously, I haven’t seen anything as senselessly destroyed by a single AfterEffects layer since Garo: Vanishing Line’s Parkinsonscam, but at least that only affected impact frames. Here it’s literally every frame. Delete that PNG you damn fools.

❌ So yeah, it’s okay-ish but that’s not enough to survive one boneheaded executive decision that’s impossible to ignore. It just comes out as a net negative.

ANN sez: “From its beautifully animated, choreographed, and directed fight scenes to its generally dynamic compositions and keen understanding of visual economy, Angolmois is a visually stunning production.”

Lord of Vermilion - Guren no Ou

What: Tokyo gets enveloped in red mist which raptures most of the population and turns the rest into JRPG characters. They start fighting, we promise.

❌ Has the shape of an obvious Persona clone, but isn’t one; it’s actually based on an arcade CCG. So the source material isn’t very classy to begin with.

❌❌ Haphazardly thrown together so it’s hard to care about anything, especially not the characters.

❌❌ Opens with a flashforward to the climax, so we know this will just end up as overdesigned dudes and dudettes having allegedly epic battles that the show can’t afford to make look good, but can afford to make very red. Thanks for the heads up, I guess.

❌ So it’s quite bad, and not even funny-bad like Caligula was.

ANN sez: “There are always a few action shows like this every season, and they're always entirely overshadowed by that season's versions of shows like My Hero Academia and Banana Fish”

Grand Blue

What: City slicker moves to a beach town expecting to end up in Amanchu; ends up in Animal House instead.

❌❌ Say it with me: Every punchline is the protagonist making a shocked face at dumb meatheads doing something stupid.

♎ For something that I feel like I should hate every second of, I actually didn’t hate it all that much. I even thought it was mostly sort of enjoyable. I don’t really know what exactly does it but I can offer some ideas:

✅ While the punchlines (well, punchline) may be bad, the jokes themselves aren’t. This is a real sitcom with larger-scale comedic setups than you usually see in anime, jokes build upon each other and keep escalating.

✅ Sleazy fratboy humor about partying hard and drinking like an idiot isn’t very profound, but rare at least in anime. And it’s amusing that the overall conceit is that it’s preventing iyashikei from taking place. Novelty counts for something.

✅ Manages to build awkward comedic situations about buff dudes with their dicks out without resorting to the same old gay panic jokes. Just regular panic, no homo.

✅ Makes a good Friday beach bum combo with Harukana Receive, which incidentally also got better by embracing its more prurient side.

ANN sez: “If Grand Blue Dreaming has a major Achilles heel, its that it isn't self-aware enough to recognize when a joke has run its course. ”

Happy Sugar Life

What: Yandere sociopath adopts a preteen girl (from a parking lot). It’s cute, only not.

✅ Is fully aware that everyone in this show is an asshole and is honestly trying for subversive. At least on the surface.

✅ Goes all on on the imagery, which works. At least on the surface.

❌❌ Simply exploiting the contrast between cuteness and insanity got old about a decade ago; this cranks up the presentation on both sides but doesn’t really add anything new.

❌❌ About as mean-spirited and unpleasant as Mahou Shoujo Site, while having even less to say.

❌ Doesn’t seem like it’s going anywhere; it’s just going to be the main character pwning other people that are just as flamboyantly fucked up as she is, but not as good at it. Starting with a flashforward to the (very edgy, of course) ending like Lord of Vermilion doesn’t help either. And even if they end up rusemanning what is implied there it won’t be much better.

ANN sez: “Happy Sugar Life was on my list of most-anticipated anime this season because its combination of disparate elements seemed so utterly perverse that I was curious to see how they could possibly fit together.“

Shoujo Kageki Revue Starlight

What: Girls slowwalk in an academy for stage arts by day, get into metaphorical superbattles by night.

✅✅ What can I say, it’s Love Live x Marimite with a glossy coating of Ikuhara-style operatics. A total deltabait concept if I’ve ever seen one.

✅ Clones the storytelling approach of Ikuhara but not many of his specific directing mannerisms; Since I’m tired of the latter but a sucker for the former, this is a good thing.

✅ In a similar vein, this trades Ikuhara’s functional ciphers for actual characters and his enigmatic arthouse plots for something that obviously makes sense.

✅ How gay? So gay.

❌ Has the opposite problem of Grand Blue: This is a show that should blow me away, but doesn’t. In fact, if it didn’t bring the big damn musical theater complete with one of the best and most appropriate henshins I’ve ever seen near the end, I’d say it was fairly lame.

❌ Probably has something to do with that in the course of casualizing Ikuhara, the “real” world ended up too bland and the characters too generic. I get that it’s for contrast, but it can be done far better (see Yorimoi for an example).

✅ In any case, it still seems easily worth watching even if it’s not as good as it could be. Maybe it’ll even get better.

ANN sez: “All I can say for certain is that it comes completely out of nowhere, and that it raises all kinds of questions about what kind of series this is going to be.“

Yuragi-sou no Yuuna-san

What: Impoverished ghost hunter checks into a haunted hot spring and interacts with the harem that happens to live there.

❌ As generic a 90s ecchi harem comedy as they come; my correspondents tell me that this is extremely reminiscent of Love Hina. Shockingly it’s actually based on a 2016 manga, but you wouldn’t be able to tell.

❌ As such, an abundance of accidental boobplants and other saucy accidents makes up the bulk of what’s going on this show.

✅ The main ghost girl is fairly cute; The main dude is also relatively bearable and has at least one good joke in his backstory (which I won’t spoil), so the core dynamic is surprisingly fine. If the rest of the harem weren’t there, this wouldn’t be such a bad setup.

❌ Features those dastardly breast-hiding light rays, reportedly even in the AT-X version. This doesn’t affect a large part of the show (the majority is more like the cap above), but boobies are probably still the only reason anyone cares about any of this.

♎ Certainly not good, but the lame shit of yore is not what I’m going to spend energy getting mad at in 2018. The 24 minutes I’m ever going to spend with it felt more nostalgic than anything.

ANN sez: “Ninja girl Sagiri comes off the worst from the situation, with nearly all of her dialogue spent promising to beat the crap out of anyone who doesn't measure up to her moral code. I imagine there must be more to her and the rest of the supporting cast than what we've seen so far, but at the moment they seem an awful lot like stock characters.”

Sirius the Jaeger

What: A broody werewolf and his team of assorted bad dudes hunt vampires in 30s Tokyo.

✅✅ Looks ace, this is an action show with deluxe everything. It better, because being directed by Masahiro Ando is pretty much the start and end of this show’s unique selling points.

✅ Interwar Tokyo with a bit of a gothick twist is a cool setting, and this show can afford to portray it properly.

❌ Seriously though... edgy vampires and edgier werewolves. Come on, son.

❌ Just like Banana Fish, this is a highly polished implementation of something that fundamentally isn’t very interesting to me.

✅ I’d still take it over Fanana Bish because this doesn’t seem to take itself so bloody seriously and is far more comfortable with just being moody action schlock. It’s also less showoffy, believe it or not. What else are you going to watch? Sirius the Jaeger is what you’re going to watch. Sorry.

ANN sez: They only have a preview from Anime Expo, and that boils down to “The second episode is where things start to get interesting.“ I sure hope so.

Well, we got a few acceptable shows in if nothing else, I’ll leave it up to you to figure out which ones those are. I’m cutting my losses here, see you in three months for a hopefully more bountiful season.

#anime #summer2018 #impressions #Asobi Asobase #Hyakuren no Haou to Seiyaku no Valkyria #Jashin-chan Dropkick #Phantom in the Twilight #Kyoto Teramachi Sanjou no Holmes #Shinya! Tensai Bakabon #Angolmois - Genkou Kassenki #Lord of Vermilion - Guren no Ou #grand blue #happy sugar life #Shoujo Kageki Revue Starlight #Yuragi-sou no Yuuna-san #sirius the jaeger

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ampwich-blog · 6 years

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In depth review of Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens

There will be lots of spoilers. You have been warned. Where do I even begin with this movie? Well first off, where is the episode number? (Review gets better, stick around!) Might be confusing for some, but I suppose everyone knows by now what number it is. Anyway, let’s start at, well the start. First, we see no 20th Century Fox intro....which took some getting used to at first but it’s fine, it’s to be expected. As you know, Disney is now the parent company of Lucasfilm, so the Fox logo is not gonna be in there, obviously. I am really glad that Disney didn’t put THEIR logo in. I was a bit worried going in at what it would be like. I mean, I want Disney to keep off of Star Wars as much as possible, if that makes sense. I don’t wanna be reminded of the situation, ya know, lol.

So, the title crawl. The theme is a bit.....off. Bad quality....it sounds....hollow, in a way. Compare it to that of the prequel title crawls, and you’ll see what I mean. That version (Prequel crawl) remains the best in my opinion. Legit quality score, while this one, all due respect to the mastermind that is John Williams, is more of a sad attempt.....a parody, if you will. “Luke has vanished!” Interesting....thought not quite in his character, but I’ll get to that later. Capital letters for the factions involved.....which only happened with every even number movie (2, 4, 6) up to now. Kinda breaking tradition a little, but it’s forgivable since it does mention the Empire in the crawl, and they gotta make a distinction as to what factions are actually in the movie. “With the support of the REPUBLIC, Leia leads a brave RESISTANCE.” Well, would have preferred to see the actual Republic in the conflict itself, but I’ll get to that later.

The opening shot, despite it being the only one of the saga (At this time) that has nothing to do with the last sentence of the title crawl, is pretty freaking epic. The big ship looming over the planet below, and deploying troop transports is just awe to the some! It’s ominous, visually astounding, and just tell you right off the bat that this First Order does not mess around. They are like the Empire as far as the ideals; the evil, sort of wanting to control and get their way, but the way they go about things is like the Republic of old, where they aren’t afraid to get down and dirty, so to speak. (Despite them looking new and shiny, ha) They are willing get things done, no matter the cost, (As we see what they did to that village) and that makes them terrifying. Speaking of which, the troops being deployed and the fight that ensues is pretty awesome. Let me just say that over all, this movie is stunning. It sure does THAT right. You got practical effects everywhere as far as the on-ground scenes go, and beautiful cgi as far as everything else goes. Except for some scenes here and there, like the starfighters when they are dogfighting, and especially when Poe and Finn escape the Finalizer, the cgi is a bit animated there but I honestly never minded that kinda thing. I mean, even in the prequel trilogy, I don’t mind the cgi. I’m there for the story and the action, and I can suspend any “belief” as far as visuals go to have a good time viewing, but hey, that’s just me. Anyway, let’s move on to the more nitpicky things.

First of all, Finn. I really like the concept of his character, his backstory. This bad guy turned good. Especially what we’ve seen up until now as faceless troopers. (As far as the movies go, since The Clone Wars series showed the clones in great depth) Which I like the idea of, but the way they go about it is super lame to me. They introduce the idea that faceless, nameless bad guys can turn good, that they are people too, and have morals and a conscience. They have their own lives and struggles. Sort of “lifting the mask,” so to speak. But they forget about that pretty quickly, as they go right back to shooting away baddies like they are points in a game. Even Finn is all, “WWOOOO!” as he shoots away his friends, his comrades, the only family he’s ever known. These are people he knew personally, who, he should know better than anyone, are people too, who can become good. Not only that, but the way he turns good is just....rushed. He switches on a dime. From the very get go, he is already questioning his ways with no development whatsoever. “It’s the right thing to do,” he says, despite never having had a conversation with a good guy saying that.....NOTHING. Just.....BAM, bad guy being horrified by his factions actions (Hey, that rhymed) and turning good right away. And another shame, to add insult to injury so to speak, is Finn is just another stereotypical black character. Like seemingly every black guy Hollywood depicts, he is the comic relief, the hyper guy, always on edge and shouting, exaggerating things, etc. And what is it with Hollywood and black characters always speaking in an American-ish.....I guess sort of “urban” way? I mean, they could have just had the actor use his real life, natural English accent. I mean, it’s a cool accent! And he is apart of the First Order, so it would make sense. “Oh, but the original trilogy had stormtroopers always speaking in an American accent.” Well, that doesn’t mean this trilogy has to do the same thing! Not EVERYONE is from the same dang planet! Chances are, not ALL of them would have the same accents. (The clone troopers didn’t have an American accent, by the way) And as far as these stormtroopers go, they were kidnapped from the First Order at a very young, impressionable age, being raised and trained. So it only makes sense they, too, might have an “English“ accent. (I say the nationality terms for accents here for lack of a better way to put it. Obviously, these aren’t Earthlings, lol) They said they went with an “American” accent for Finn, due to the pacing and comical tone. But 1. WHY does he need to be comical? This dude has a tragic story, he shouldn’t be the comic relief. I mean, you could have done that with Poe, if anyone. But do we REALLY need anyone to be comical? Do we really need a “Jar Jar” or “C-3PO” of this trilogy? (C-3PO is already in it, anyway) 2. He kind of pronounces words weird. Could be the planet he is from? If so, could someone tell me what planet? Like for example, Jakku. “JockUUE.” No, no, Finn, it’s “Jack-koo.” “JocKUUE.” No, no, “Jack.....koo.....” “JockUUE.” Ya know what, nevermind. Just....don’t worry about it.

Anyway....you also have Rey, who is, granted, not PERFECT at everything, but she is a little....too good....There’s really no development for her, I mean she has the same basic attitude and, well, fighting skills the whole time. Sure, it can be explained away by her being a scavenger all her life, growing up in a “rough part of town,” so to say. But it just makes her parts in the movie more boring, really. Not that much room to grow as a character. She’s just good from the get go. Similar to Anakin in Episode 1. Is she a Chosen One, too?! I’m getting those vibes with her...And doesn’t help that all the characters seem to know who she is, but never say anything. It’s like some big mystery, some big reveal to come in the next movie. Please tell me we’re not gonna get another “I am your family member” moment. That aside, there is no real attributes to her, aside from her not wanting to leave Jakku, because her family might come back at any time. She has to learn to accept that she has to move on. She has to live her own life. These new friends of hers ARE her family now, and she has a cause to fight for, a real difference to make for the greater good. But aside from that, there really isn’t that much going for her, character wise. She’s just kinda the same throughout the whole movie, already having good sound morals, being a good fighter and pilot. (How the heck does she know the Millennium Falcon better than Han Solo?!) Being able to use the Force and know how to mind trick, etc. (HOW??) all seemingly without flaw. Granted, her fight with Kylo later is pretty much defensive, and she was losing up until the point she remembers to trust in the Force, and only then does the tide turn in her favor. (Much like Luke in the Battle of Yavin) And heck, Kylo was injured by a freaking bowcaster for crying out loud! (By the way, how the heck does he stay still as a statue, when others hit by the bowcaster are FLUNG like a sonic frisbee?....) Kylo was not only facing her, but Finn as well. AND he just murdered his father, so that’s probably going through his mind. That is pretty impressive on his part. So I will give Rey’s character that much, that there was AN attribute and that she did struggle....(For as little as she did) But hey, it’s something. Though escaping from Kylo Ren’s clutches all by herself was a bit much.

The other new guy, Poe Dameron. He was alright. He was WAY too good of a pilot, though, I mean, geez. (Now this is podracing?) And that part where he is flung elsewhere when he and Finn crash, and later turns out he survived and is right back to fighting. Not a whole lot of sound explanation is given for that, at least in the realm of believability. Now that is called bad writing, I’m just being honest.

Kylo Ren.....I don’t quite understand the hate toward him. I mean, he’s a developing character. He’s conflicted....and yes, he’s quite whiny. But he is related to Anakin and Luke, he’s got that Skywalker blood in him, so it’s kind of to be expected. He isn’t another Vader; Meaning, he isn’t already matured and developed, and is an all out boss to face later. This high and mighty villain that is a lurking threat and you must come to face at some point. No, he is basically a main character in his own right. He is the other side of the coin from Rey. I am excited to see where they take his character. The idea of Han and Leia’s son being a villain is pulled straight from Legends, which I personally appreciate. As much as they ignore the old EU, (Correct me if I’m wrong, never really read it) they do have SOME things from it, so I at least like that. Though what is up with his Force powers? Apparently in Star Wars, you can stop blaster fire mid air? And you can freeze a person in place, and even knock them out? Why didn’t anyone ever do any of that before, then? I’m sure it would have come in handy.

Snoke.....I like the mystery behind his character, and his ominous presence. (But dat voice though) So many questions. Who is this guy? WHAT is he? Why is he leading the First Order? (I will address that part later) I just hope he doesn’t end up being some random evil Force user. Some new character, another villain they have to defeat, blah blah blah. I want him to be of some great significance. Perhaps he is someone we know of already, and is getting his revenge, or is on the rise. Perhaps he is the dark side itself personified, and defeating him would finally bring true balance to the Force and end all this madness. SOMETHING that when he and the First Order are defeated, it can be a nice finish to the saga, bringing all 3 trilogies together in a grand way. Whatever happens, I just hope it’s awesome, mind blowing, and significant. I don’t want this trilogy to just be “what happens later.” Or a one off thing. I want it to be legit THE SEQUEL TRILOGY.

Captain Phasma SUCKS in this movie. They made her out to be a fierce warrior or some crap in marketing, only for her to have nothing to do in the film, and to be a total coward. The ease at which she succumbs to the good guys demands is just pathetic. All they had to do is threaten her life and she is willing to compromise her entire faction. Just a WEAK villain. And Han suggests to throw her in a trash compactor. I mean, that’s pretty dark for his character, don’t you think? I thought he was a good guy! What gives?

General Hux is, well....alright I guess. He does have some cringey dialogue at times. Like when he is talking to Snoke and is all, “We should destroy the government that supports the Resistance.....” and there’s a pause in there, as if we don’t know what he is referring to. OH, what could it possibly be, I wonder?? “the Republic.” *GASP!* NOOOOOO! (That whole situation with the First Order, Resistance, and Republic is pretty confusing, but I will get to that in a bit) His speech was pretty epic, though, I gotta admit. I couldn’t help but listen to it and apply it to my imagination in some way. It definitely has a Nazi vibe to it. Really gives you the sense that these guys are this small, extremist group rallying together and hellbent on destroying the Republic and all that is good. We get to see their craziness at play here. They come across as a cult, almost. You can tell by the way the troops respond, too, that they are pretty much brainwashed and willing to die for a cause that is evil. These guys are quite the threat, despite their small size. (They do make up for that with their big ships and advanced tech. They have to use quality over quantity)

Now that the Republic capital has been Alderaaned all up in here, the good guys have definitely been brought down to the First Orders level, and now it’s more of an even fight. Since before, it was the galactic government, the Republic. With its big military (WAY smaller than any before it, but still the biggest of its era, so I’ve read) and Leia leading a Resistance. But now, a good chunk of the Republics fleet is gone and they probably will have to band with the Resistance if they have any hope of fighting off the First Order. (So I hope is the case) Though they make it seem like the Republic as a whole is destroyed, and if that is the case, then that is soooo stupid! The Rebels, turns out, did restore the Republic. But now it’s as if it was all for nothing, as now, it seemingly gets destroyed. Now we are stuck with ANOTHER ragtag group of Rebels. REALLY.

This “Resistance” (Oh, yes, sounds soooo different, uh huh) looks JUST like the Rebel Alliance! X-Wings, the pilot outfits, a hidden base on a forest planet, the whole 9 yards. Heck, even their emblem is the EXACT same as the Rebel firebird! They aren’t even trying here! This is just Rebellion 2.0! Even the situation they find themselves in, from trying to get info in a droid before their enemy does, to having to blow up a planet killing ball seconds before it destroys their base....IS THE SAME THING! Those aspects were basically just Episode 4 all over again. I mean, holy crap, I know you have to do the whole “rhyme” thing, but can you at least be a little more subtle about it? Yes, Episode 1 repeated some stuff, but they weren’t so blatant about it. There’s even a dang trench run! COME ON, LUCASFILM! Have SOME originality here!

The bad guys, while more original, isn’t excused either. The First Order (What does that name even mean? Like....what??) is also a missed opportunity. I mean, first learning about them, they seemed like this organized terrorist group, essentially an evil rebellion. A group founded by fleeing Imperials years before, hellbent on revenge, yata yata. (NONE of which is explained in the movie) Much like the real life theory of Nazis fleeing elsewhere and rebuilding in secret to become a threat once more. Which more or less is exactly what they are. But to me, they had initially seemed like a cult, a secret society, some extremist group. Which I definitely got that feel during Hux’s speech. (Again, which is awesome) But as time goes on, I’m starting to see them more like Empire 2.0. Still TIE Fighters for some reason, still calling their troops stormtroopers (More of a minor nitpick, really) another Death Star, (I will address that in a bit) another scarred dark sider leading it, etc. (And from the looks of The Last Jedi, more walkers....probably gonna be a weakness that needs exploited) Even another dark side enforcer dude with a mask on. Well that last part, again, is kind of a minor nitpick, but thought I’d mention the parallel at least. (I personally like Kylo Ren, as I said before. Though the son of the Resistance leader being in the First Order is kind of a bit too coincidental, huh?)

What I think would have made a more compelling setting is the New Republic vs the Resistance. (The Resistance being what we ultimately got as the First Order) Instead of being a closed off organization being led by yet another dark sider, (Which doesn’t even make sense here. Like what the heck does Snoke have to do with them??) it would be a movement actively recruiting members who are loyalists to the old Empire, and want to take down the Republic. Led by Hux, they would actively make speeches, protests, terrorist attacks, etc. Which I suppose we kind of got, but if all that was in the movie itself with some more added, I mean. It would feel more like a reverse rebellion of sorts. They could be more vocal, since the government here is more democratic and friendly.....Of course, my idea of a Resistance would have a military in secret and be doing shady things like the First Order does. That would be the political side of things. On the Force side of things, we would have the new Jedi Order struggling against the Knights of Ren, led by Snoke. And Snoke would be, I don’t know, the source of the dark side itself or something. Perhaps Snoke IS that in canon, or something similar, who knows. This dark side entity from the unknown regions. But him leading the First Order just doesn’t make sense to me and is just too similar to the situation with the Empire.

The new Jedi Order is kinda dumb, turns out. In the EU, they were legit. But here, we never get to see them in action. We’re just told they were all slaughtered. So now we’re back to square one, with Luke being the last of the Jedi....AGAIN. And Luke just....left? When the galaxy needed him most, he vanished.....Some time has passed and my new best friend and I discovered a new Jedi-to-be. A Force user named Rey. And although her Force powers are great, she has a lot to learn before she’s ready to save anyone. Hehe, just kidding. Get the reference? Eh? Moving on. Seems out of Lukes character to just abandon the galaxy like that out of self pity. I mean, this is the same guy who disobeyed his Jedi masters to go save his friends on Bespin, despite all the red flags. The same dude who put his own life and morals on the line just for a slight chance to bring his father back to the light side. This guy is pretty dang stubborn when it comes to saving people. So for him to just throw his hands in the air and say “I quit” and leave everything to die just doesn’t make sense to me. Though to be fair, he was pretty whiny and did give up rather easily.....But still, you would think he’d have learned his lesson by now, 30 years later and being a Jedi master and crap.....(Also he gets no dialogue! WHAT THE HECK. No reunion with the others, nothing. Minor nitpick, really. I honestly don’t mind, to be honest, but thought I’d mention it) Not only Luke, but everyone is back to square one. Han and Chewy are back to their lives of crime. (Don’t tell Leia or anyone in the Republic?) Leia is back to having a big role in a resistance movement. The galaxy is now back to Empire vs Rebels crap again, (Now that the Republic is presumably gone) and so on and so forth. Just seems like all that was accomplished in the original trilogy was for nothing.

Starkiller Base. Let me just get this out of the way: REHASH!! I mean, seriously, it’s Death Star 3, can we please call it Death Star 3 and be honest with ourselves? (Not really, I’m trying to be in denial here) Take out the Starkiller, and this movie is alright. Every time I see it on screen, (As cool as it looks and is to watch it fire) I cringe. Especially during the attack on it by the Resistance. That whole battle just feels like Battle of Yavin 2.0. “Battle of D’qar?” I don’t know....The whole thing was SO painfully predictable, it hurts to watch. I mean, really....how many times are we gonna get this dang scenario? Just 1 movie before this, we already had a 2nd one, do we really need a 3rd? It’s getting numb at this point. Even the characters in the movie are tired of it! “It’s another Death Star!” “I wish that was the case....” NO, it is! That person was right! And even Han is like again, really? The way he speaks about it. “So....it’s big.....Now how do we blow it up? There’s always a way to do that.” UNBELIEVABLE. If it’s such a tiring thing, and been done too much already, WHY PUT IT IN THE MOVIE?! I think I know why.....”Rhyming.” UUGGHH. You could rhyme, that’s fine. Make another ball to destroy, okay. But does it have to be another planet killer? Can’t it be something a little more subtle? I’m just saying! And the way they go about it all is so painful to watch. Oh, we gotta lower the shields from the inside, and blah blah blah. Aside from it being a planet on the outside, the inside is just another Death Star, while D’qar is just another Yavin 4. They look just like those! IS THERE NO CREATIVITY LEFT AT LUCASFILM? And how the heck does it even work? There’s no logic here. I mean, I know it’s in a fictional universe where the Force and hyperdrives exist, but still, you should at least explain it a LITTLE so it makes SOME sense. It sucks in a sun? Odd, but okay. (By the way, I had that same idea for a story I was gonna write, granted a little different. But now I can’t do that, ha) I mean, how does it not melt all the snow and heat everything up? I don’t know, but I can sort of get behind the idea, I GUESS. But isn’t it kind of pointless to suck in THE star of your solar system? So....what then? They just drift off into space, and can never fire? And didn’t they already have to suck in a sun before, when they fired at the Hosnian System? (And notice how it was day light when they fired, as opposed to later when they suck in the sun to prepare to fire, it gets dark) So are there twin suns in their system, too? Or is their sun an unlimited energy source, where they suck in a lot of energy, but the sun “recharges” after a while? If that makes any sense. Though sources say it is a mobile base. Perhaps when it’s done with their sun(s), (Hehe, I like rhyming) it drifts off into space until it comes into contact and starts to orbit another star? Then it can fire that? Though Wookiepedia says Starkiller has rocket ports or something to make it mobile. (Of course, take Wookiepedia with a grain of salt?) But how the heck do you take a whole planet out of its orbit like that? And wouldn’t everyone freeze to death? I don’t care how many heaters you have, yall are gonna be like Pluto all up in here. By the way, the cannon has got to be the size of a freaking continent! And are you telling me the ENTIRE planet is a base? That is a LOT of freaking people. Imagine Earth’s population all working under one military faction. Well, I imagine the planet didn’t house intelligent life before, and now there’s a bunch of First Order people there, but not like a planet sized population? I don’t know, okay, the whole thing is confusing. But needless to say, Starkiller Base wasn’t really needed. It was cool the first time (The Death Star, I mean) kinda lame the second time.....became a trope the third time. (Episode 1, with the droid control ship) and was just beating the dead horse the fourth time in The Clone Wars with the Malevolence. NOW, it’s just becoming BRUTAL. So predictable. I knew as soon as I saw it on the poster that it was gonna go bye bye by the end of the movie. I mean, at least let it stick around for the trilogy, perhaps. Make the destruction of it be a milestone, a cheerful, crucial moment that was hard for the good guys to finally overcome. But what we ultimately got was a “Here we go again” sort of thing, and here comes like, what? 12 fighters to defeat an entire militarized planet! Okay then.....

Now on to seeing the glass more half full. The way I like to see things. Call it denial, but I like to see the Resistance as a New Republic military operation. Obviously, canon says it’s a private military under Leia, but it does say the Republic supports it. (By the way, the canon EU says the Republic sees Leia as a war mongerer and is not listening to her warning about the First Order, so she creates her own army. But then in the movie, it says they do support her? Well which is it??) So a group of Republic volunteers band together to spy on the First Order. (Whom are a somewhat small extremist organization, and NOT another Empire) Snoke is basically a dark sider who dwelled in the unknown regions, and made a bargain with the First Order. “I can help you guys. If you let me lead you right now, I will give you lots of resources, and help you bring the New Republic to its knees. In return, I want help destroying Luke Skywalker, and ending the Jedi once and for all.” So much like when the Sith made a deal to work with the Trade Federation in Episode 1, Snoke and the Knights of Ren made a deal to mingle with the First Order and help lead them to victory. When the Hosnian System gets destroyed, the Republic isn’t wiped out, but simply crippled. Now, my hope is to see the Republic and Resistance band together to fight the First Order. That is my way of making this new era bearable.

All in all, it’s an OKAY, sort of entertaining movie. Visually amazing, but plot and such is pretty lame. The first half is alright for what it is but the latter half is just horrendous. I think I rate this movie.....a 5/10 lightsabers. Basically, average. I know it’s HERESY to say, but I really didn’t care for this movie. Seems to me, and please don’t get offended by this, that a lot of people are hyped on the nostalgia provided. Seeing the original cast again, the Millennium Falcon being chased by TIE Fighters, (Which was pretty meh to me) etc. But for me, personally, I really don’t like nostalgia. At least when it’s used as an excuse to be lazy in story telling. Nostalgia should come natural, not be forced. I don’t know about you, but I get my nostalgia by taking part in the original thing that is the cause of my nostalgia, if that makes sense. Like, if I’m gonna get nostalgia from watching the Millennium Falcon fly away, and TIEs pursuing, etc. in this case, then I watch the original trilogy itself. THEN, all those memories come and I enjoy it. For me, a movie is tied to when I see it. So this movie brings on memories from 2015, if anything, ha. Nostalgia does NOT make a movie any good, in my opinion. Notice how a lot of movies these days relies on their predecessors a little....TOO much. I guess that just happens in Hollywood, when you wait 20+ years to make a sequel, you feel the need to “reel in” the fans, and remake the first one. It’s a shame, too. Movies could be so much better than this. A lot of people don’t like rehashing, and rightfully so. But for some reason, when Star Wars does it, it’s okay? I mean, I know there are a LLOOTT of people on board with me here. They, too, don’t like the rehash....iness....But there are arguably MORE who do. Either they are blinded by nostalgia, like it because “Well it’s great for what it is and I don’t care,” or they like ANYTHING Disney throws their way. (Ever notice that? Disney can never do any wrong?) Even if it’s a company that people know is under Disney, it makes the experience better for them somehow. I don’t know how true any of that is, it’s just my theory. An observation. It kinda scares me a little. Seems like Disney has almost brainwashed the population, in a way. And the rate at which they are expanding, buying everything in sight....I mean, kind of creepy. Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate Disney or anything. I’m just creeped out by them, and don’t like some decisions they make in regards to my favorite franchises. (Mainly being Star Wars) But since Disney practically has the female population in their grasps, I’m gonna have to come to acceptance with them, other wise, will I ever get married, ha. Honestly, if you like Disney, then good for you, I don’t mind. Even I do to some extent. I just don’t like some of their decision making, and some of their partly shady history. Perhaps I’m overthinking things, but that is my take on it all. But anyway, that is my in depth review, lol. Holy crap, this was long. Well, kudos to you if you stuck around. And thank you for letting me waste like, 15+ minutes of your life. You’re welcome.

#star wars #the force awakens #star wars the force awakens #star wars the last jedi #review #episode 7 #the last jedi #star wars episode 8 #episode vii

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