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ultrajaphunter · 2 years

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(via Let's Use Chicago Rules to Beat Russia - The Atlantic)

Why the U.S. adversary is a lot like Al Capone

Eliot A. Cohen

JULY 6, 2022SHARE

About the author: Eliot A. Cohen is a contributing writer at The Atlantic, a professor at The Johns Hopkins University School of Advanced International Studies, and the Arleigh Burke chair in strategy at CSIS. From 2007 to 2009, he was the Counselor of the Department of State. He is the author most recently of The Big Stick: The Limits of Soft Power and the Necessity of Military Force.

Carl von Clausewitz observed in his classic On War that “the maximum use of force is by no means incompatible with the simultaneous use of the intellect.” That means, in part, acting thoughtfully but with the utmost effort, understanding that war is more bar fight than chess game. Or, to put it in the simpler words of Jim Malone, Eliot Ness’s counselor in The Untouchables, “You wanna know how to get Capone? They pull a knife, you pull a gun. He sends one of yours to the hospital, you send one of his to the morgue. That’s the Chicago way! And that’s how you get Capone.”

Al Capone is an apt analogy for what the West confronts in Russia: a particularly noxious mix of Mafia mentality, hypernationalist ideology, and totalitarian technique. Elegance is not the Russian way, and it cannot be our way. This is the light in which one should measure the accomplishments of NATO’s recent gathering in Madrid.

The tangible efforts that Western leaders announced were impressive in many respects, particularly the commitments to provide Ukraine with nearly 500 artillery systems, 600 tanks, hundreds of thousands of rounds of ammunition, and more. The question, as always, is whether these will be delivered as swiftly as they can be absorbed, and whether the United States and its allies are “leading the target” by putting in place now the infrastructure to prepare Ukraine for the weapons it will require and hopefully receive one, two, or six months from now, and for training the large forces it must mobilize.

Read: More than 100 days of war in Ukraine

The United States made some incremental additional commitments of forces to Europe, including two destroyers for a naval base in Spain. The policy declarations were important as well: a decision to expand by an order of magnitude NATO’s high-readiness forces; a formal recognition of the challenge (NATO avoided for now the word threat) posed by China; and an agreement to welcome Finnish and Swedish applications to join the alliance.

But these moves, beneficial as they may be, only partly meet the needs of the moment. Time and again Ukraine has demonstrated its ability to absorb high-end military hardware and deploy it quickly and effectively. This seems to be the case with HIMARS, the mobile rocket systems that are extremely accurate, and with which Ukrainian forces seem to be already hitting Russian ammunition dumps and military headquarters. Instead of the promised eight, the Ukrainians need 80, and work should be happening now to scale up transfers of these and like weapons as fast as possible.

What the Biden administration still struggles with is the ultimate purpose of Western assistance to Ukraine. At his press conference, the president said that the United States and its allies would not “allow Ukraine to be defeated.” That is the wrong objective. It should be, rather, to ensure Russia’s defeat—the thwarting of its aims to conquer yet more of Ukrainian territory, the smashing of its armed forces, and the doing of both in a convincing, public, and, yes, therefore humiliating way. Chicago rules, in other words.

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In the same way, the administration is wrong to titrate arms out of a misguided desire to avoid provoking Russian escalation or enabling the Ukrainians to do too much. The West is in a moment of military-industrial crisis; it should be taking concrete measures to ramp up industrial mobilization, with the goal of equipping Ukraine to the maximum while rearming the expanding forces of a newly awakened NATO.

Even as Western allies counter Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, they must also meet the broader and longer-term threat that Russia poses to the eastern members of NATO, particularly the Baltic states.

The Western allies will not invade Russia, nor will they overthrow its regime directly—one day, hopefully, Russians will do that. Putin is motivated by imperial fantasies of imitating Peter the Great and other, even less savory Russian leaders. And Putin’s successor, should the Russian leader die or become incapacitated while in office, will likely be no better. For evidence of that, one need only consult the ravings of key advisers such as Nikolai Patrushev. If and when the battles cease in Ukraine, Russia’s intentions to expand and subjugate its neighbors will remain.

The good news here is that if one sets aside misleading memories of World War II and the Cold War, and disregards the ominous mutterings of experts who exaggerated Russian capacity before the war, then it becomes obvious that Russia is a weak state.

Russia’s GDP is less than that of South Korea. Its leadership is afraid to openly mobilize its middle class, so it refuses to declare war and send young men from Moscow and St. Petersburg to the slaughterhouse that is the Donbas. Its generals are, for the most part, incompetent, which is why purges of them continue. It is scraping the bottom of its manpower barrel and so raises to absurd heights the age level of potential service members. Corruption and indiscipline have rotted out its maintenance and low-level leadership. What it has is Cold War–era stockpiles of weapons and munitions (and those are huge, but finite); some pockets of excellence, for example its railroad units; and utter disregard for human life throughout the chain of command.

Even so, a mangy, myopic, and rabid bear is still a dangerous beast. That’s why beating Russian forces in Ukraine is not enough. The West must impose upon Russia sanctions intended not, as the current ones are, to punish, but rather to enfeeble (Chicago rules, again). The plummeting of Russian car production is an example of a basic fact, which is that Russian production depends, more than one might think, on access to Western chips, machine tools, and special materials. However the Ukraine war ends, permanently or temporarily, the West needs to settle into a comprehensive sanctions regime that will weaken Russia’s economy in the long haul and throttle its ability to rearm on a large scale when the shooting stops.

NATO expansion should assist in this process. The alliance will soon in all likelihood have Sweden and Finland as full members. They have real and potential capacity (Finland more the former, Sweden more the latter) and serious political leadership. But a NATO of 32 members will be even more unwieldy than what we now have.

Read: The accidental Trumpification of NATO

The solution—which cannot be publicly declared—is a NATO-within-NATO. Germany, France, and Italy have the largest economies in the European Union and in theory should carry the most weight in European-security decision making as well. But they cannot. Germany, the proverbial Hamlet of nations, is fatally compromised by its unwillingness and inability to make good on military commitments, and its recent sordid past in enabling Russia’s growth and stranglehold on European energy supplies. France is domestically torn, while the overweening vanity of its presidents makes it difficult for them to get a receptive hearing from lesser mortals. Italy, as ever, produces statesmen on occasion, but not statesmanship.

A nascent coalition of powers is, however, willing to take Russia seriously and has the muscle to thwart her while bringing less resolute European states along. The Eastern European and Baltic states, with Poland in the lead, know Russian tyranny firsthand, and are ready to stand up to it; the Scandinavian states, in particular Finland and Norway, are almost as intent; the English-speaking external powers, including the United Kingdom and Canada, are similarly alive and determined. It is to this core group that American statecraft must look.

The British chief of the General Staff recently described the Ukraine crisis as a 1937 moment for the West. It was an acute historical comparison. In that year the Sino-Japanese war began, setting the stage for World War II. In that year the West had before it choices that could have avoided the horrors of a far worse conflict, but it ducked.

To their credit, in the current moment, Western leaders are performing far better than did their counterparts 85 years ago—but not yet well enough. We’re dealing with Capone, and while, like Eliot Ness, we need to stay within the constraints of law and basic decency, we also need to apply Chicago rules.

Eliot A. Cohen

is a contributing writer at The Atlantic, a professor at The Johns Hopkins University School of Advanced International Studies, and the Arleigh Burke chair in strategy at CSIS. From 2007 to 2009, he was the Counselor of the Department of State. He is the author most recently of

The Big Stick: The Limits of Soft Power and the Necessity of Military Force

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yugen-works-118 · 3 years

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Happy Valentine’s Day! It’s a little bit late, but it’s too damn cold for Texas so here’s some fluff! :D

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The air was cold. Too cold, Aki mused to herself. Wasn’t it supposed to start warming up by now? She exhaled from her mouth and watched the puff of air form a cloud for just a moment before vanishing. She hugged the bags of chocolates closer to her chest hoping to keep them from becoming too cold. Learning and getting the hang of how to make chocolates was a tedious process, thank god she decided to begin preparing them at the beginning of the week with how many failed attempts there were. She could feel her fingers beginning to go numb, she wished she had brought some gloves or something. She looked down at the bags of chocolates tucked into her arms. This would be the first Valentine’s Day she spent with people she actually cared about and loved, wouldn’t it? She smiled softly at the thought. She wasn’t sure what to expect of it, and she was a bit nervous, but knowing her friends; everything would go well.

“Aki-San!”

“Aki-nee-chan!” She stopped and turned around to see Rua and Ruka jogging towards her.

“Hello, Rua, Ruka,” she greeted. The twins were bundled up nice and warm with matching light blue and pale pink winter coats respectively along with boots, pants, and gloves. Rua wore a beanie which hid his ponytail while Ruka donned a pair of fluffy earmuffs.

“Are you going to Poppo Time too?” Rua bounced in place excitedly.

“Yes, I am.”

“Cool!” Aki realized, seeing as they were already here she might as well. She fished through the pile of bags clutched to her chest until she found Rua and Ruka’s bags of chocolate.

“Here,” she said. She handed the appropriately labeled bags to each twin. They both beamed at her and wrapped their arms around her sides as best as they could.

“Thank you,” they said simultaneously. Aki smiled and wrapped an arm around both of them as best as she could with the pile of bags in one hand.

“Of course.” The twins smiled up at her before presenting bags of their own to her. She smiled and thanked them in return. The rest of the walk to Poppo Time was filled with talk of how their days went, things they had planned for the weekend such as going out with Bob, Tenpei, and Patty, and other mundane things. Once they arrived at Poppo Time, Rua took a running start and practically slammed the doors open much to Ruka’s chagrin.

“Hey guys!”

“Yo! What’s up Rua?!” She heard Crow call back just as enthusiastically. Rua had already run down the ramp and was talking with Crow and Bruno in the garage when Aki and Ruka entered the door.

“Hi,” Ruka greeted as she walked down the ramp. Aki lingered for a moment to close the door.

“Hey, Ruka, Aki!” Crow greeted.

“Hi!” Bruno greeted from the entrance of the living room.

“Hello,” Aki responded. She walked down the stairs and joined the lot of people in the garage. Rua ran and peered around Yusei’s duel runner, looking disappointed at the absence of the mechanic.

“Huh? Where’s Yusei and Jack,” Rua asked. Meanwhile, Ruka was giving both her and her brother’s bags of chocolates to Crow and Bruno. Aki doing the same a moment later.

“Thanks you guys! Jack went to spend the day with Carly, so, who knows when he’ll come back,” Crow explained. “Hm, I’m not sure where Yusei went though. I just got back from making deliveries and he wasn’t here.”

“Yusei went to go pick up some parts for some of the computers he’s working on fixing.” Bruno clarified, then turned to Aki and Ruka. “Thank you,” he said as he accepted the bags of chocolate. Rua pouted and groaned.

“Aw!” Crow chuckled and rubbed Rua’s head.

“It’s all good though, they’ll probably be back soon. In the meanwhile, who wants some hot chocolate?! Because it’s damn cold outside!”

“Me!” The twins cried simultaneously while raising their hands excitedly. Aki chuckled at their antics.

“I’ll take some as well if you don’t mind. Thanks Crow.”

“Can I have some too?” Bruno asked sheepishly.

“Heck yeah you can! Go get some blankets and take off your coats!” Crow instructed.

“Yes sir!” Rua mock saluted with a grin on his face. Ruka smiled and chuckled at her brother’s actions. The four of them walked to the living area and shedded their heavy winter coats, gloves, and head accessories before plopping down on the couch, Rua comfortably nestling into Aki’s right side while Bruno took a seat to Aki’s left after he threw some blankets over them all. The room was filled with a blissfully comfortable silence save for Rua gently asking Ruka if she was warm enough or would want more of the blanket, only to be met with gentle assurances that she was fine. Aki hummed contently and snuggled further into the couch, closing her eyes. She heard the twins giggle softly and felt Rua bury himself into Aki’s side. Aki smiled gingerly and began stroking the boy’s hair gently. At some point Bruno began to talk about projects and the progress of their engine program that Yusei and him made, Aki hummed in acknowledgement at the appropriate times and praised their work when needed. Crow came back in the room carrying a tray with five steaming cups of hot chocolate resting atop it. Crow distributed the cups to each person before demanding Bruno to scooch over so he could sit too. Bruno tried his best to not disturb Aki and the twins with his awkward shuffling. At that point, Crow began talking about how his deliveries went, how some people were just plain rude assholes to him, and any other occurrences that happened while running his deliveries. Eventually he began asking the twins and Aki about how school was going for all of them. At some point, they all heard the garage door open and close quite loudly.

“Hi everyone! Huh? Where is everyone?” That was Carly’s voice. They also heard Jack harumph.

“Where the hell are you Crow?!”

“In the living room!” The orange headed man shouted back. It wasn’t long before Jack and Carly entered the living room.

“Hey Jack, where have you guys been all day? Hi Carly!” Jack hmphed and claimed it was none of Crow’s business.

“We went on a date at the pier!” Carly stated at the same time. Jack turned to look at Carly, his eyes squinting at her. A bead of sweat rolled down Carly’s face as she sheepishly turned to face her lover.

“Hehe, sorry,” she apologized meekly. Jack sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. The blonde then turned and caught sight of their guests.

“I’ll be right back, just a moment.” Jack stomped off, earning quizzical glances from Crow and Carly. The reporter sheepishly turned to face the lot on the couch.

“So, uh,” she chuckled awkwardly. “How’s life?” They all stared at her blankly and shrugged. Jack entered back in the room with a plastic bag.

“Here,” he huffed, shoving a chocolate bar in Aki’s hands. “You should be grateful that I of all people got you lot anything.” He shoved two more chocolate bars into each of the twins’s hands. They all chuckled and smiled at the blonde.

“Thanks Jack!” Rua smiled at him. Ruka thanked Jack as well.

“Thank you,” Aki said. Oddly enough, the man seemed a tad surprised but huffed.

“You should be grateful.” Aki softly asked Ruka to reach for the pile of bags on the small table behind her. Rua reached forward to the coffee table and retrieved Jack’s bags of chocolates while Aki did the same. Three bags of chocolates were presented to Jack.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Aki smiled. Jack hmphed and smiled, taking the three bags.

“Offerings worthy of a king, I shall enjoy these.” The three chuckled at their older friend. Crow paused for a moment, and then his eyes widened.

“Oh crap, that’s right!” Crow pressed his hand against Bruno’s face to brace himself as he stood and ran to the kitchen, calling out an apology to the now disheveled Bruno. Jack puffed air through his nose and went to get a blanket for him and Carly to share from his room. Crow came back in the room with three goodie bags and gave one to Rua, Ruka, and Aki. “Sorry, I completely forgot about them,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. They waved off the apology and said it was fine.

“Wait, aren’t you usually supposed to wait until White Day to give gifts back?” Ruka asked. Jack and Crow both looked at each other and then at Ruka, shrugging.

“We know about White Day, but that wasn’t a holiday Martha celebrated all that often,” Crow explained. “So, we never had much of a reason to follow that tradition.”

“Oh,” was Ruka’s simple reply. She then shrugged. After a moment of comfortable silence Bruno stood and excused himself to the bathroom. Then, not too long after Bruno left, the door opened but closed much harder than when Jack and Carly arrived, as if the door was kicked closed.

“Yusei! We’re in the living room!” Crow shouted.

“Okay,” Yusei replied, then grunted with an accompanying sound of metal clinking together. Soon enough, the leader of the Signers entered the living room and blinked at the sight of everyone gathered on the couches.

“Hiya,” Carly greeted with a wave. Yusei waved back and greeted his friends.

“Your chocolates are right there,” Ruka explained as she grabbed Aki’s remaining chocolate bag to Yusei and placed it next to their’s. Yusei froze and stared at the chocolates, and then smacked his palm over his forehead.

“I’m so sorry, I entirely forgot today was Valentine’s Day,” he explained.

“What?!” Crow exclaimed. “But I reminded you at the beginning of this week!” Yusei sighed.

“You did, but I got so swept up in my side projects that I forgot about it.”

“It’s fine,” Aki assured. “Don’t beat youself up over it.” The twins nodded in agreement with her. Yusei sighed and nodded in thanks, awkwardly looking around for where to sit. Crow pat the spot where Bruno had been sitting, barely suppressing an impish grin behind a pleasant smile. Yusei silently took the offer. Aki picked up the blanket, allowing him to sit before placing the blanket gingerly over him.

“Thanks,” Yusei said as he tucked himself further into the blanket. After Yusei settled in and got comfortable, Bruno came back in the room.

“Aw,” the man deflated. “My spot.”

“I can get up and-“

“No,” Bruno shook his head ‘no.’ “It’s fine.” He grabbed a pillow and sat on the remaining one person sofa in the room.

“So,” Crow piped up after a minute. “Do you guys want to watch a movie or something?”

“Your obsession with watching movies is atrocious,” Jack scoffed.

“Aw,” Cary whined. “I was kind of wanting to watch one.” Jack paused and... sheepishly turned away from his friends, the shell of his ear tinged a dark red. Crow snickered and started laughing.

“I’m taking that as a yes!”

——————

Were these the kinds of moments she had been missing out on? She couldn’t remember ever feeling this warm and fuzzy. Buried under blankets, being surrounded by her new family, and enjoying such mundane activities. She glanced over at the loveseat where Carly had dozed off and cuddled into Jack’s chest who had his arm wrapped around her. Then to Bruno who was still watching the boring romance movie, that she couldn’t remember the name of, along with Crow, both looking like they were about to fall asleep. Then to Rua, who was still buried into Aki’s side, but cuddling Ruka, both of them had fallen asleep sometime ago themselves. She sighed contently and stroked Rua’s hair once, a smile gracing her lips.

“Are you still awake,” came the soft whisper from her left. She looked over to Yusei and nodded silently. “Sorry, I wasn’t sure if you were or not. Is something on your mind?” She smiled again.

“Nothing bad, I suppose I’m just enjoying how nice this is.” Yusei waited until she continued. “It’s just, I haven’t experienced this before. My parents were never particularly the kind to spend family time together and neither was anyone at the Arcadia Movement. So, this is new to me,” she explained. Yusei smiled at her.

“I’m glad,” he responded softly. The two fell back into a comfortable silence, nothing else needing to be said. Aki eventually dozed off herself after failing to pay attention to the movie.

————————

“Well! It’s going to be dark soon, and we don’t want to be out after dark, so, we’ll see you guys later,” Rua explained, Ruka nodding in agreement. The twins had already begun pulling on their coats and accessories.

“Okay, well, be safe on the way home you two! And stay warm!” Crow called after them as they walked away from Poppo Time. Crow shivered and closed the door. Jack had already gotten up and left to go take Carly back to her apartment. Bruno had already retired to the sofa down in the garage for now. Crow walked back up to the living room and snickered. Yup, the remaining two were still cuddled up like lovebirds, he thought to himself as the view of a sleeping Yusei now leaning his back on the arm of the sofa with a pillow underneath him and an arm wrapped around Aki’s shoulders. The psychic herself was sound asleep on top of him. The two being covered by at least three blankets. Oh well, not his business.

“Unbelievable,” Jack scoffed softly from behind him. Crow nearly jumped out of his skin and barely restrained himself from smacking his older brother upside the head. “This is some of the sappiest shit I’ve ever seen.”

“You already know Martha would’ve been taking pictures already,” Crow mused. Jack nodded in agreement and the two walked away.

——————

Aki opened the door to Poppo Time, shivered, and nearly slammed it back shut. It got so much colder! Of course it would get even colder after the sun went down, she reasoned. She then cursed herself for not bringing a heavier winter coat. She sighed and prepared herself to brave the cold until she felt a hand land gently on her shoulder. She turned around and found Yusei behind her with a thick and fluffy brown bommer jacket.

“Here,” he held the jacket up to her. “The weather channel had said that it would be in the thirties around nine.”

“Are you sure?” She hesitantly held a hand out. He gently pushed the jacket into her hands.

“Yeah, and since it’s already dark out I’ll go ahead and walk you to the train station.” She accepted the jacket gratefully and pulled it on before zipping it up. She silently noted about how it actually kind of fit her.

“Wait, walk?” She questioned. He nodded.

“The roads are closed because it’s too icy to drive right now.”

“Oh. Well, you don’t need to, I’ll be fine. It’s too cold and I don’t want you to get sick,” she explained as he pulled a large navy colored winter coat on anyway.

“And I don’t want you to be out there by yourself,” he countered. She looked in his eyes and sighed. She recognized that look. She knew he was going to accompany her no matter how much she protested.

“Okay,” she relented. Yusei finished zipping his coat closed before opening the door and holding it open for her.

“I’ll be back, I’m going to walk Aki to the train station!” He called out as an afterthought before closing the door. Crow and Jack peaked their heads out from around the corner of the kitchen, and then looked at each other incredulously.

“Wasn’t that his old favorite jacket?” Jack nodded at the younger man.

“It is,” the blonde confirmed.

————————

“So, where are your parents?” Aki hummed and glanced away.

“They’re out of the country. Dad had some kind of political event to go to in the United States, and mom went with him. Last I heard from them earlier today they were in Texas at some kind of river walk. They were celebrating their wedding anniversary there.” Yusei sighed. He would never fail to be miffed about how her own parents could just leave her alone like this even after what they went through trying to get her back, same with Rua and Ruka’s parents. Aki shrugged. “It’s not a big deal though, I mean, it’s not like I’m not used to it.” He winced.

“That doesn’t mean you should have to be used to it,” he stated bluntly. Any argument she was going to come say after wilted away with a sigh.

“Well, at least they’re trying more than they used to,” she supplied. “Mom wants me to go with her to Germany to meet some of her family during the summer of next year. She extended the invitation to you guys as well if you want to come.” Yusei hummed in consideration. He’d never been outside of Neo Domino or Satellite before. It sounds like it would be an interesting experience. Perhaps some issues concerning a language barrier, but, he’s sure that maybe that could be worked out somehow. The trip would also take place after the WRGP as well, so, it wasn’t as though he had any major plans in the foreseeable future after that.

“I’ll think about it, but I’ll go ahead and tell Jack and Crow about it and see what they think.” She hummed in acknowledgement. Eventually, the lights surrounding the train station came into view, and the two walked steadily towards it.

—————————

Yusei leaned his head against the cement pillar while Aki requested and paid for her ticket. He briefly turned and glanced at the girl, and he couldn’t help but remember waking up after the movie. After the initial panic of, “When did we even fall asleep,” and, “Holy crap Aki was sleeping on top of him,” faded, he found himself admiring how content and peaceful she looked. It was the most relaxed he had ever seen her, he thinks. And he couldn’t stop thinking about that smile on her face from before she fell asleep. She looked so happy and wistful, like a fairy, he thought. Of course, a small part of his part broke when she explained that she had never experienced that simple joy of being around people who genuinely cared about him. He knows that if he had never been able to experience those moments with Jack, Crow, and all of his other friends, he would not have been able to stay completely sane. Which is why he admires her strength. Sure, she was definitely affected by Divine and the way he manipulated her and hurt her, but, she had the mental fortitude to be able to pull herself back up onto her own two feet and evaluate herself. She was still in the process of doing that even now, but she was much better off than in the beginning. Back when Yusei had known that she couldn’t stand up by herself without any support, so he had allowed himself to be her crutch for a time. It took a long time, unlearning any old habits instilled into her, and breaking out of the mental cycle that had let her fall so low, but with each day that passed, he was able to see her begin to lean on him less and less, which made him glad that she was growing by herself. To see that smile, to see the fruits of her own hard work, it filled him with hope for some reason. It was beautiful, and awe inspiring. To see who she was blooming into, a blend of her experiences and who she used to be, it was beautiful. He can’t put it into words how and what she makes him truly feel, but, he knows that the answer isn’t anything bad, and it isn’t an answer he’s scared of finding out.

“Yusei?” He jumped as he heard her from right beside him. He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed her return. “Are you feeling alright? Your face is all red.” Without hesitation, she removed her hands from the pockets of his jacket and gingerly placed them on his face and forehead. He froze in shock. “You’re not getting sick are you? Your face is red and you’re feeling warm,” she explained her concerns. She removed the hand on his forehead and placed it on his other cheek, rubbing just underneath his eye where his criminal marker was soothingly. When was the last time someone touched him so tenderly? Those kind of touches were usually associated sensations to Martha and another set of familiar yet unfamiliar hands that he vaguely remembered; his birth mother’s hands probably, he would realize later.

“I-I’m fine,” he quickly got out after forcing himself to not get lost in his thoughts again. Since when did he stutter? He reached up and held her wrists delicately, debating with himself about whether or not to pry her hands off. Aki’s hands were warm, but the slight chill of having them out in the open air briefly still lingered.

“Are you sure?” He nodded.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. She gently pried her hands from his grasp, but instead of dropping them back down to her sides right away, she held his hands and squeezed them briefly before doing so. He found himself yearning for the warmth of her hands almost as soon as she let go, but didn’t show it. He dropped his hands back to his sides as well. After a lingering awkward silence, Aki gently fiddled with the zipper of his jacket.

“Um, do you want this back later or now?” He blinked at her and paused, considering his answer.

“You can keep it,” he said instead. She looked up at him in surprise.

“Huh?”

“You can keep it,” he reiterated. “It’s a jacket that I don’t really use anymore,” he lied. Well, it was technically a half lie. It was one of his favorite jackets actually, but, it was true that he tended to favorite his blue jacket nowadays than any other jacket he had. Besides, he was by now starting to grow out of it, he noted as he realized just how well the jacket suited her.

“Are- Are you sure?” He nodded silently. At that moment, the two turned their heads and stared at the train as it pulled into the station. “Ah,” she said somewhat disappointedly.

“That’s your train, right?” She nodded. He stood from his placement against the pillar. “Well,” he sighed disappointedly. “You should probably go ahead and go, you wouldn’t want to miss it.” She sighed and began her treck to the train’s entrance before she paused about half way. He stared at her, wondering if she had forgotten something, but was taken by surprise when she turned around and ran at him. She jumped and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. He found himself frozen in stupor once more.

“Thanks, for everything,” she said. “Be careful on your way home okay?” After getting over his shock, he found himself wrapping his arms around her as well.

“Yeah, I will. Be sure to let me know when you make it home safely.” She nodded into his shoulder.

“I will, same goes to you too though.”

“Yeah.” He squeezed her once more before they detached from each other. When her face was in his vision, he felt like he was blown away when he realized she was smiling at him. Not at something else, not at anyone else, just him. That precious smile was just for him this time. He hadn’t even realized he had been holding his breath until the train’s doors closed. He lowered his hand after the two had stopped waving at each other and the train had slithered out of view into the tunnel. He almost didn’t realize that he had already begun walking home until the only lights that remained were the street lamps above him. A bit numbly, he reached into his pocket and felt the plastic of the bag of chocolates that Aki made for him. He pulled the string tying the bag closed until it unraveled. Then, he popped one of the small chocolates into his mouth, and smiled as the warm caramel coated his tongue. Well, he now had an inkling of what he was feeling. But, still, it was a tango he’d rather not pursue until the WRGP and Illiaster were no longer a threat, he noted with a sigh. So, he’d wait, but that didn’t mean he’d be yearning for the day he didn’t have to wait anymore.

————————

BONUS:

Rua grinned impishly as he stared at the picture. He clicked the ‘send’ button on the messaging app. Ruka sighed from beside him on the couch.

“You know Yusei-san and Aki-san will be livid if they find out about this right?” Rua resisted cackling, and shrugged.

“Oh well,” he said as he deleted the picture from his phone. Rua’s phone chimed with a message. The boy opened the app and looked at Jack and Crow’s responses.

“Rua, you’re a genius,” was Crow’s response.

“If we die by Yusei’s hands for this Carly knows it’s your fault.” Jack typed a few seconds later. Rua scrolled back up to the picture he sent just a few moments ago of a selfie Rua took with half of his face in the corner grinning mischeviously with the rest of the picture centering on a sleeping Yusei with his arm wrapped around a sleeping Aki who’s face was not visible, but half buried in his shoulder.

#yugioh 5ds #5ds #yusei fudo #fudo yusei #aki izayoi #izayoi aki #jack atlas #crow hogan #Rua #Ruka #carly nagisa #faithshipping #scoopshipping #fluff

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swimfuel · 3 years

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okay humanstuck thoughts under the cut

i owe a lot of this to @/rhythmic-idealist's kankri/vantasposting bc holy shit theyve got such a big brain (ill link to their individual posts when im on desktop since im using this to keep all my thoughts straight and i agree with most of what they say wholeheartedly)

general status quo stuff:

signless works in an extremely demanding career involving helping others (i'm leaning towards an attorney who works with organizations and does pro bono work), and is also extensively involved in social justice work outside of his job... he is very rarely home

he loves and cares for his children deeply and tries to express it whenever they're face to face, but the couch in his cramped and messy office has seen far too much use over the years for him to have been able to say it enough

his habits of working himself to the point of exhaustion are handily passed down to his kids btw

the kids had to grow up quickly because signless was out of the house so often and so consistently—kankri, who was already pretty high-strung, has to learn to take care of himself and karkat

they grow up near ms firuzeh maryam, who's their pseudoaunt/grandma (she took in a nine year old kavana vantas when she was about twenty), but they just call her ms rosa

they spent a lot of time in the maryam house growing up, with miss rosa's two nieces. porrim is a year older than kankri, while kanaya and karkat are the same age

kankri grows kinda sensitive to people trying to mother him since it rubs against the notion that he's the "adult of the house" and that he can take care of himself and karkat just fine

(and it also kinda underlines the fact that kankri has no idea what he's doing at the best of times)

and ironically enough, kankri becomes overbearing and naggy towards karkat in his own right, which forestalls them becoming close in any brotherly sort of way

they grow up really just... unable to communicate with one another clearly

karkat develops his ornery exterior in response to kankri's constant stream of opinions and frantic attempts at making up for the presence of a guardian in the house

i think there would actually be some really interesting parallels with rose in this au.. maybe i'm drawing from my own experiences as well but i think he'd begin to assume that every time his brother opens his mouth, he's going to criticize karkat

but instead of reacting like rose with the "making yourself more of a puzzle"/passive aggressive stuff, he gets a more defensive/hackles raised/"argue with you before you can argue with me" approach

and the thing is that they do love each other and would take a bullet for the other etc etc etc.. but they don't know how to express it because they've fallen into these shitty patterns

and it really doesn't help that kankri has grown somewhat resentful of signless over the years... that mix of resentment and fear and love gets more extreme and more polar every time signless gets injured during a political demonstration

i think kankri and signless would also be slightly closer than karkat and signless, as signless' job really only started to ramp up when karkat was less than years old and kankri was in his early double digits

kankri autistic btw its word of god (i am god)

karkat has a pet crab. its name is also karkat. he vents his frustrations to it.

i feel like the vantases exemplify both the best and worst parts of their aspects with one another as well... the strength of their bonds keeps them together and grounded, but TOO grounded. [insert Blood rant here]

the Blood rant:

i define Blood as bonds, responsibility, and the "core". if Life is the fertile soil and everything living on a planet's surface, then Blood is the gravitational core of the planet keeping everything together

i also think Blood, Heart, & Mind work in tandem to define a person just as blood serves to connect the pieces of the human body... Heart is the soul and the self, Mind is the application of one's self through active choices (agency), while Blood defines both the self and the choices one makes in greater detail [and, as an aside, Life provides the physical spark of life needed to keep the heart pumping blood]

OKAY wow that got tangential anyways

SO BASICALLY! too much Blood makes you stagnate, so for example:

kankri is split between staying home with karkat or going to college across the country and being truly unbound for the first time in years

another crisis of Blood: signless is caught between his empathy and responsibility to the whole world and his responsibility to his own children

okay so here's more status quo stuff:

the maryam and vantas kids grow up together and its hilarious because you'll see them all together and its just like (girlboss) (girlboss) (physical manlet) (emotional manlet)

the maryam girls are actually miss rosa's nieces but she took them in when they were both pretty young

the pyropes know the vantases well enough considering pyrope senior and sign have known one another from their respective legal practices for years, but they live on the other side of town

the leijons lived in town when kankri and meulin were very young, but they moved and travelled for a long time before coming back and reestablishing their roots

the captors (psii being one of sign's oldest and closest friends) move into town with the peixes family pretty early on though

the condesce is.. a horrible spouse and guardian, to put it plainly. she's very emotionally manipulative and isn't averse to smacking people around, including her own family. she moves herself and her perfect little family into town so she can properly oversee a new business venture close by

feferi is one of the best young swimmers in the country and has a pretty good shot of getting onto the olympic team.. a lot of this drive to be perfect and to be better results from the condesce's unrelenting pressure and thinly veiled resentment throughout her whole life

so yeah psii, )(ic, feferi, and sollux all live together and it's really not great for anyone involved. (meenah ran away years ago, and crashed on aranea's couch for a pretty long while—mituna moved out with latula for college before psii and the condesce got married)

it gets bad to the point of sollux staying with the maryams for two months while the adults try to sort out that absolute clusterfuck and get the divorce proceedings going (meenah finally convinces feferi to get out and come stay with her and aranea for the duration as well)

in terms of relationships i think latula and porrim were really really close in high school, and probably had some kind of unacknowledged thing going on for a while that never actually turned into anything because latula and mituna were going steady

kankri has had a crush on latula for years but never acted on it for similar reasons

meenah still carries a lot of that give no fucks attitude (it's developed moreso as a defense mechanism here) and can't understand why feferi refuses to leave the condesce with her

okay back to VANTAS MANPAIN i also think that karkat feels the weight of a lot of expectations on his shoulders as well

he feels responsible to live up to the example his dad and his brother set, even if it's to his own detriment—and kankri's oblivious rambling about his grades and his teachers and all his clubs certainly aren't helping the matter

kankri is one of those overinvolved kids taking a million AP's while simultaneously shitting on the collegeboard at every single step

hes this super overachiever anal retentive perfectionist type dude and (just as karkat preemptively criticizes others to forestall their criticisms of him only to harshly criticize himself) kankri subconsciously holds the people around him to the same expectations he holds for himself

so karkat also develops this sense of lacking which, in combination with everything else, culminates in self loathing and thinking he has to solve everyone else's problems and getting horribly mad at himself for every little mistake

GOD i have a lot more but lemme post this before i accidentally close out of the app and lose it all

more little details:

vriska's mom and terezi's mom HATE each other like HATE HATE HATE one another it's so bad

karkat wrote a ten page review of my immortal in middle school

jade is one of nepeta's best online friends

sollux can't raise one eyebrow at a time.. karkat gives him so much grief about it

the vantases eat a lot of shitty renditions of persian dishes until karkat learns to cook because literally the only person in the world with a CHANCE of getting KANKRI VANTAS to make an EDIBLE DISH is miss rosa

kanaya is really good at persian dance too but is VERY VERY embarassed to perform in front of people.. however porrim definitely is not

karkat has insomnia while kankri just stays up stupidly late for assignments that really shouldnt be taken that seriously.. but they both have the same rumination/sleep anxiety thing where your brain goes insane with horrible and depressing scenarios as you try to sleep

and more ideas that i thought were interesting but idk how to fit in the context of this au:

signless and disciple getting married pretty late in life after having been in love for years, the vantases move in with the leijons and karkat suddenly has two sisters

nepeta and karkat are both juniors at this point, meulin is probably in her third year at a local college nearby while kankri is about to start his second year at a university pretty far away

the kids in general honestly but ill figure it out

more random hcs this time with kids:

kanaya and rose get into a flame war online that gradually settles into elaborate courtship rituals

also nepeta + jade online besties

also bec can inexplicably still teleport

the first sbahj movie comes out and the next six months of dave strider junior's high school career are absolute hell

actually hc that dave senior goes by d strider professionally. the d stands for a lot of things

aradia and dave frequent a lot of the same forums but never end up really interacting

meanwhile karkat and john frequent a lot of the same forums and DEFINITELY end up interacting. this turns into grudging (at least on karkat's part) friendship after they find themselves fighting for their lives defending an objectively shitty movie together on the same thread

#humanstuck #vantas family #.

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easily-infatuated23 · 4 years

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Ride to the Dance

a/n: this is my first Steve fic so i hope you enjoy!

pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none

summary: Steve drops Dustin off at the dance and meets an intriguing girl

“Knock em dead kid” Steve shouted from the drivers seat. Dustin shot him some finger guns before pushing open the door and entering the dance. Steve sighed. He remembered the feeling of nervousness and anticipation as a kid when trying to impress girls. He chuckled slightly. He looked out his window at the other cars dropping off anxious kids in ill-fitting fancy attire, and he saw her. She was sitting in the next car over, appearing to give the younger girl next to her the same pep talk he had just given Dustin. Her window was down and he could hear some of what she was saying. “I know you are nervous but just keep you chin up Lucy. If you look confident on the outside, it’ll seep in and you’ll feel it”. The smaller girl, apparently named Lucy, nodded her head and got out of the car. “I’ll be in the area so if you wanna leave early. Got get em sis!” Lucy gave a small wave before entering the dance in a similar fashion as Dustin.

The girl sighed and leaned back in her seat, her head lay rested back on the seat. She closed her eyes for a moment before sitting back up and looking around. She looked at Steve and smiled. He suddenly became aware of how long he had been staring at her. He smiled back. She motioned for him to roll his window down. He nodded and began rolling his driver side window down. “Steve Harrington what are you doing here” she asked teasingly. “Just dropping off” he replied. “Same here, my sister Lucy is pretty shy when it comes to stuff like this. I don’t remember you having a younger sibling, who’d you drop off?” she asked again. “Dustin Henderson” he said, suddenly feeling a little weird about his friendship with the child. “Ah I see. Lucy says he’s a sweet kid, smart too”. “Yeah” Steve chuckled. “Smarter than me thats for sure.” He looked back at the girl. “Don’t tell him I said that”. She laughed. “Wouldn’t dream of it but you should give yourself more credit”. He shrugged. “You picking up too?” She asked. “Yeah probably”. “I guess I’ll see you later then, bye!” She said warmly. He smiled and waved as she reversed out of her parking spot.

She looked familiar but he couldn’t remember her name. She was beautiful though. He thought he would definitely have remembered her for that. He ran his hand through his hair. He then heard the sound of cars honking and realized that other people were trying to get in to his spot. He decided he would pull around to the back of the school and wait. He rolled up his window pulled out of his spot, making his way around the building. To his surprise, the girls car was there. She was playing her radio and sitting on the hood of her car, laying back on the windshield. She was holding a glass coke bottle in her hand and was tapping her foot along with the song playing. She was wearing loose blue jeans, black Doc Marten boots, and an oversized black and grey stripped sweater. She looked up when she heard his car pull up next to hers.

“When I said I’d see you later, I didn’t think later would be this soon” she joked. “Yeah well I figured hanging back here was better then waiting out front like a weirdo” he replied as he got out of his car. She stood up and faced him. “Coke?” she offered. “Uh yeah sure” he replied. She smiled and opened her car door, pulling out another glass bottle. “Here”. She handed him the bottle and pulled a small bottle opener out of her pocket. “Thanks” he said. She hopped back up onto the hood of her car and gestured for him to join her. They lay in silence for a few minutes. “You can ask me you know. It’s ok I won’t be offended” the girl said, sitting up. Steve shifted to his side. “What’s you name again?”. “My name is Y/N. I actually was in your Poetry class last year” Thats where he knew her from! Steve hit his palm on his forehead. He remembered now. She always raised her hand to answer questions, usually to the point of being obnoxious. She also looked very different then. He didn’t want to be rude but he could distinctly remember joking with some of his old friends about how unattractive she was. She looked nothing like that now. Her beauty nearly took his breath away. “Right, sorry” he said. “I don’t blame you” she replied. “I was pretty annoying that year. Honestly, I try to forget that person sometimes” she laughed. “You said it not me” Steve said. She smiled and scoffed, hitting his arm lightly. They both started laughing.

Just then “Jump” by Van Halen came on the radio. “I love Van Halen” he said. He hopped down off of the hood and stood to face Y/N, illuminated by the headlights of the car. She watched as he started moving to the music and singing along. He was using his almost empty bottle as a microphone. “You might as well jump!” Steve sang, holding his bottle towards her expecting her to sing the ‘jump’ added in by the background singers. She just shook her head and laughed at him. “Hey thats no fun come on!” As the lyrics repeated Steve repeated his actions, pointing the bottle in her direction. This time she played along. “Jump!” She laughed. He reached out his hand to her, she smiled and accepted it. He pulled her off of the car and gave her a quick twirl. The two continued to sing (awfully) and dance (awfully) to the song. The bottles switched their uses from microphones to guitars when the guitar solo began. As the song finished, the two teens laughed at themselves and Steve unconsciously clasped Y/N’s hand and pulled her closer to him. Luckily, she didn’t seem to notice or mind. The laughter died down and Steve suddenly became aware of how close their bodies were to each other. His hand was on the small of her back and her hand was on his chest. He felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach. Was he nervous? Why did he feel nervous? He hadn’t been nervous around a girl since Nancy.

Y/N laughed a little and shook her head. “What?” Steve asked, starting to laugh with her. “Nothing” she said, taking a step back. “For a second I thought that you were gonna kiss me for some reason”. She pulled away from him fully and put down her empty bottle next to her car. Steve stood there and looked from side to side, slightly confused. “Maybe I was, would that be a bad thing?” He said, turning to face her. She maneuvered herself back onto the hood of the car, pulling one leg up to rest her arms on. “No, just seems unlikely” she said. “Look, just because I’m more popular than you doesn’t-” her laughter interrupted him. “Oh Steve Harrington I-” she paused to laugh some more. “What what?” Steve asked defensively. “I couldn’t care less about popularity status! I just think you’re hot and I didn’t think you would want to fraternize with someone not on your same level”. “Hey don’t say that you are beautiful. You should give yourself more credit”. She put her leg back on the ground and propped herself up on her hands. “That’s my line” she said. He shrugged. “Mine now”.

She shook her head and smiled. He leaned past her and put his empty bottle next to hers. When he stood back up he was closer to her than before. He leaned on the car and rested his weight on his right hand. Their noses were practically touching. “So, are you going to kiss me?” she asked. This caught Steve slightly off guard. Most girls were not this forward with him. They would either blush and look away when he spoke to them or wait for him to make the first move. “Earth to Steve” she spoke. “I heard you” he said. “I’m just looking at you”. They gazed at each other for a few more moments until an unspoken agreement occurred and the two leaned in simultaneously. The kiss started soft and slowly ramped up in intensity. Her hands moved to his jean jacket, using the open flaps as handles to pull him closer to her. Both of Steve’s hands were cupping her cheeks.Their tongues danced in and out of each others mouths, exploring. His left hand moved from her cheek to her lower back, causing her to arch. Her lips felt soft on his and he felt her cold cheeks warming up beneath his hands. They finally broke away from each other, gasping for air. Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at Steve. She really was breath taking.

“What are you doing on Saturday night?” she asked him. “Uh nothing” he said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. He even ran his hand through his hair to reinforce how nonchalant he was trying to be.“Me. You are doing me Saturday night.” He leaned back slightly and blushed. Seeing the surprise on his face she spoke again. “Don’t look at me like that, we were both thinking it” she said laughing. He smiled and nodded. “You got me there” he said. Now, he didn’t feel as weird about dropping of Dustin at the dance. In fact, at the end of the night, he would be sure to thank him for asking for the ride to the dance.

#steve harrington #stranger things #dustin henderson #steve harrington x reader #scoop troop #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #joe keery #writer #steve harrington x y/n #nancy wheeler #joe keery x reader

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fanfoolishness · 3 years

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Mandalorian live-blogging, chapter 12, the Siege!

What did the Client really want to do with Grogu? He didn’t exactly seem to be on good terms with Gideon.

Din: “I finally know where I’m taking you — away from my life but not from my heart *cryyyyyy*” — oh wait, was that not the one?

The very practiced way Din is asking Grogu to do complicated shipboard maintenance suggests this has absolutely happened how many times before?

Din is so expressive here! All his gestures! So much nodding! His “no!” Hands! Shit, maybe my storyline about Din teaching Grogu sign is being carried on right here.

This may be the longest amount of time Din Djarin has spent continuously talking in about a year. I love how Grogu brings it out of him. He’s clearly exasperated by the shitty ship, but endlessly patient with Grogu, and I love how his voice absolutely conveys both of those emotions simultaneously

The tender way he says “no no no” to Grogu is so gentle.

I also love his contentedly narrating to Grogu as a part of their daily routine

I could easily watch 20 minutes of that type of content every episode and try to include pure adorableness like that in just about every fic I write

Oh, Cara Dune... why are you such an enjoyable character played by such an obnoxious person? I’m glad Gina Carano is taking her nonsense elsewhere, especially since it was clear she’d had multiple warnings, multiple chances to educate herself, but damn, I am gonna miss Cara on screen lugging Din around like a rag doll, or just smashing people in the face. I really appreciated seeing a woman on screen with the physique and capability to be that effortlessly kickass.

Din Djarin, wearing a jetpack: scrambles off his shitty ramp with all the grace of a flying lobster

I love the dynamic of Greef and Cara and Din. I hope we at least get to see Greef again! Maybe he’ll be like “now that the town’s cleaned up, the Marshal’s moved on.” Also, since when do we have Marshal in Star Wars? I’ve seen how many SW movies how many times, and no such thing as local law enforcement, let alone local law enforcement with a Western flair? Then all of a sudden Mando S2 shows up with Cobb Vanth and Cara Dune and I’m wondering if it’s an actual legal position in the Outer Rim and like, a cultural title of Outer Rim humans on many worlds (because it sure as shit doesn’t sound like a title you’d take in the Core Worlds).

Anyway, Greef’s actual love and adoration of Grogu is the sweetest. Maybe he and Peli can start a Grogu fan club and be the founding auntie and uncle.

Still can’t believe I missed that statue of IG-11 until I saw it pointed out here on tumblr.

Just think of how this is probably the first time Din’s been around this many children since Sorgan. And Sorgan kids had it different, they had a world that loved and protected them, and a place they could freely be above ground, and so that was fine; and Din had thought the children of his covert, the foundlings, they were fine too. But then it turns out it wasn’t true, the foundlings weren’t safe, they were slaughtered. And this is Nevarro, a township that wasn’t Home, but was nonetheless home to his people; and he remembers a little school in their hidden, simple covert for the foundlings in their training helmets; and he’s both heartened and pained that this group of children, at least, are able to be schooled in a safe place.

Din trusts these people as much as he’s trusted any non-Mandalorians, and it’s a lot! He knows he can ask them for help with the ship, he knows they saved his life and Grogu’s. And yet still see how unsure he is to leave Grogu at the school! He knows they don’t mean harm, he sees how beautiful and well-used the school is, he knows it should be safe... but he still stares after Grogu, barely looking at Cara, wanting to follow him. “Wherever I go, he goes,” says Din desperately, barely bearing to trust that anyone else could keep the kid safe like he could.

I keep thinking I need to write a fic of him flying off to go get Grogu at the end, now that I’m rewatching it, perhaps now is the time!

I’d love to have some of these kids’ Star Wars hairstyles

Hey! The Maelstrom! I know that! You know Han Solo did the Kessel Run in under 12 parsecs? And I love correcting people when they think SW didn’t know what they were talking about? Parsecs ARE a unit of distance and that’s what Han meant because of the Maelstrom! He got dang freaking close to it! Anyway I’m just very excited because y’all do realize they built the Sun Crusher in the Maelstrom? Anyone here read those books?

Grogu is such a little shit! and he really did just say “Patu,” huh

I love Greef’s beard. I love it! Are we saying it enough? It’s great!

So is Nevarro basically an asteroid? Are they seriously flying to the other side of the planet for this? Maybe it’s tiny? How can Din fly over half a planet on a jetpack? Nevarro must be a galactic pebble.

I could watch Din just get in and out of vessels all day long

Din is just so excited to use the Phoenix and I love that he’s not that good at it but loves it anyway. “Hold tight”

Lava tide? The hell is this shit planet.

Din is not impressed by stormtroopers one little bit. I love him standing there all nonchalant.

Din is just sooooo shiny in this episode.

Cast it into the fire, Isildur!

Why do these bases never have guard rails for these giant drops

The Mythrol asked the same question 1.3 seconds later

Mythrol? Cracks of doom? Mithril??? A coincidence? Surely not

Greef I love your outfit so much

Yeaaaaaaah get those Snoke-looking bitches outta here

Din with a horrible sinking feeling... “I don’t like this...”

Din is heavily regretting letting this man live rn

Din must have been seeing. FUcking. RED

You know if they stop building their hallways with fucking COVER the stormtroopers won’t keep getting killed in them by enemy assailants with better weapons and aim

Din running to get his son <3

Cara SMASH and I love it

Din, you flew away over the LAVA? That is so badass. And I love his very clumsy superhero landing. And taking a running leap off the top of the lava flat

I love that Cara doesn’t quite get the whole kid thing, but totally supports Din in his love of fatherhood

Cara would be GREAT at driving the Mako

I do love how often environmental hazards take out scouttroopers on their speeder bikes. Like, no shit! You’re a human trying to go 300 miles an hour? Since when is our reaction time capable of that???

Dammit TIE fighters! They’re much more intimidating on a planet, actually. They pack a serious punch when you aren’t shooting ship-sized lasers back at them

Yes!!! The shitty little Razor Crest that could!

And Grogu’s excitement! He trusts Din so much now that it doesn’t even enter his mind they might be in danger. He just knows Din’s here, we’re gonna have fun, I trust him.

And think how much Grogu has grown since S1. He would have been hiding in the back with all of that excitement beforehand, not excited and waving his hands and giggling

Din is just... resigned to Grogu being sick. And he could clean Grogu up and go back to see Greef, but he just wants to make sure the kid’s okay... especially after what he’s just learned about Moff Gideon.

I do miss the slower pacing of S2. I would have liked another episode in between this and The Jedi where Din just sort of processes and deals with all of this new information.

Oh hurr hurr wait I write fanfic

I like that some of these Imps don’t have the Coruscanti accent. They’re just like... y’know, American.

Gideon is so childishly pleased by his Darktroopers, like get over yourself, dingus

If Favreau took this episode I wonder if that means he wanted to make sure all the mythology and shit is going according to plan. Or maybe I’ve just been watching too much X-Files. If Chris Carter wrote an ep, it was mythology ONLY, and that was it.

The end! Maybe I’ll write tomorrow :)

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian liveblog #mandalorian #mando #din djarin #Greef Karga #Cara dune #grogu #Nevarro #my mando meta

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sepublic · 4 years

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Can't stop thinking about how Willow had the chance to be REALLY popular by joining the grubgy team and get the perfect payback for what would have years of Boscha's abuse being excused because she's the school's top player. Yet she took one look at her bully's terrified face and declined. Lowkey wondering if her seeing how Amity, who used to be the "Popular, Perfect, Stuck-up" kid, had a terrible home life that demanded and encouraged that behavoir, made Willow more merciful to Boscha.

That makes a lot of sense, honestly! We don’t know much about Boscha, other than that her parents are coworkers of the Blight Parents, and that Mr. and Mrs. Blight apparently want to establish more of a connection with them; But at the same time, Amity clearly talks of the Blight family as being of a higher position than Boscha’s. What we’ve seen of her mother implies she might be a little neglectful, as well as emotionally-clingy and needy towards her own kid.

I can’t say for sure if Willow even knows what Boscha’s home-life is like, but at the same time; She’s like Luz in that she prefers not to start up conflict, and after seeing Amity’s situation is DEFINITELY mindful, if she wasn’t then, that people have a lot going on in their lives that others don’t see! Willow knows that Boscha ramped up her bullying in response to having her attention ‘stolen’, so she knows that sort of thing means a lot to her to an unhealthy extent.

I mean, just look at Boscha’s opening speech; This is not someone who sees herself as a kid who should just have fun, but somebody who needs to be on top and maintain a distance even amongst admirers, and justifies hatred from others as an indicator for success. Boscha doesn’t seem concerned about having fun, only about being the best… Which, regardless of how her parents are, is NOT a healthy mindset for a fourteen-year-old.

Going into a bit of speculation, I feel like in that moment, when Willow and Boscha’s eyes meet… They both mutually know how screwed Boscha is. Boscha only got her position as Team Captain because Amity stepped down, feeling bad for hurting Boscha and her friend; That while she’s skilled, Boscha likely has the knowledge that she’s second-best. Her fame in Grudgby comes from Amity; Amity, who she possibly and looked up to as a Blight, as THE popular, aloof Witch who knows to keep herself at a distance from others!

(Kudos to @theowlhouseheadcanons for bringing this up!)

I think Boscha admired Amity and saw her, or at least the façade she put up, as her role model. Boscha isn’t someone who knows that she can dislike a person, but still treat them with dignity and respect; To her, if Amity stepped down out of guilt for hurting her, this HAS to mean Amity actually likes her, right? So to see Amity ‘stolen’ from her by Willow… To see her own friends follow immediately afterwards, followed by Boscha’s potential loss of her position as Team Captain, which she knows wasn’t entirely earned?

I think Boscha may have embraced being second-best to Amity, under the idea that she was the only person she looked up to and respected; But how could she look up to Willow? The idea of being second to Willow… And even if Boscha kept her position, she’d still be losing part of her fame to Willow! And even though Willow declined any participation in the team… She still won, she basically took everything from Boscha!

And, Willow recognizes that Boscha knows this! She doesn’t exactly like Boscha, and maybe even hates her… But she’s not cruel and merciless. She knows that Grudgby is the only thing that Boscha has left after this moment, and she knows what it’s like to feel insignificant and powerless, without friends; And that’s WITH loving parents who actually care! Boscha’s own family may not be so sympathetic… Besides, Willow has already had her victories, and I wouldn’t be shocked if she was also flexing her power over Boscha, by even allowing that bit of mercy to begin with! Let her know, quietly; That YEAH, you only have this one thing left in your life because of my whim!

I think Willow is somebody who is normally kind and loving like Luz; But unlike her friend, she has her darker moments of genuine resentment that sometimes manifests into thoughts that she’s not all-too proud of. And I think feeling such cruel ideas in her head made Willow horrified of herself, made her feel like more of a terrible person, as if Boscha’s bullying and Amity’s betrayal really was justified, that she WAS an unlovable freak. Like Luz, Willow is loathe to the idea of hurting other people; So to see herself beginning to have these thoughts made Willow feel like a monster, like she was no longer the kind and loving person she used to be, but something else…

Which, results in her Inner self incarnating into a raging, vindictive flame entity after Amity burns her mind; Because this was the final straw that led Willow to seeing herself as truly despised by Amity, causing her hate to reach a breaking point as she sees herself as just that by now; Merely the anger she has towards others, her original identity and kindness burned away because wrath is all she has left! But thanks to Luz and Amity’s help, Willow remembers that she’s still the person she always used to be, hence why she reconnects with her past, innocent self. She’s still worthy of love, and always has been.

Willow knows who she is, and she’s getting better at remembering and confirming this identity. She wouldn’t want to hurt anyone, at the very least not without reason; And seeing Boscha’s terrified eyes, she knows that there’s nothing else that she really needs to accomplish by taking that place on the Grudgby team.

So, yeah- Willow is simultaneously wary of becoming a bad person, too merciful to let others feel the way she has, knows that some people aren’t lucky enough to have a loving family, sees no reason to hurt Boscha anymore when she’s already lost so much, knows what it’s like to be afraid of losing one’s friends… And was also basically fortnite-dancing over the grave where Boscha’s pride was buried, anyway!

I feel like if Boscha were ever to apologize, or at the very least simmer down and be less of a bully… Well, I don’t think Willow would exactly be around her anytime soon; She’s still hesitant around Amity, who was a former friend who cut ties specifically to protect Willow, and while she did bully Willow- It certainly wasn’t to the extent that Boscha did, and definitely without real spite on her part!

But at the same time, I think Willow would be happy for Boscha, because at least less people are suffering, and if Boscha is better, then hopefully others won’t have to be bullied as well! By the end of the day, Willow doesn’t want to hurt anyone, and by extension she doesn’t want anyone to be hurt either. She may not personally intervene like Luz would, but she wouldn’t exactly be complaining if someone’s situation changed for the better!

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house willow #willow park #the owl house boscha #ask #speculation #character analysis

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weasleypogues · 4 years

Text

the new carrera (j.m.)

request: could you do one where y/n is kie’s adopted sister&hangs around the pogues? She takes a liking to jj. One day, they’re swimming at John b’s, she watches jj get out of the water. Kie says that she isn’t being discreet. He catches her gaze. Later, she goes down to the dock to help clean up. He says that he saw her watching him earlier&he asks why. She says that she likes him&he says that he likes her too. They share their first kiss&become a couple. Then it leads to something more.

i hope u enjoy this!! i actually had a lot of fun giving kie a sister but i really hope i got the timeline and everything correct! if not than we’ll just use our imagination aha

i also got very carried away so im sorry for the length of it lol

masterlist.

mike and anna carrera welcomed you into their family with open arms. after neglection from your birth parents and being taken in by the state, foster care was the only option. half way through freshman year and into sophomore year was when your foster parents mike and anna took care of you. their daughter kiara was away at something they called “kook academy”? it took you a while to figure out the slang in the outer banks but soon realized that it was almost like a boarding school for rich kids. even though she was there, you still headed to the local public high school to continue your education but you didn’t really care. all you knew was that you kept your head down and tried to blend in as much as possible.

a part of you longed for kiara’s company to help guide the way through the social standards in the outer banks and get a first hand experience from someone your own age, but alas, you were alone.

it didn’t take long for the state to come to the terms that mike and anna were your safest bet to a happier and fulfilling life out of foster care. this lead to your final adoption into the carrera family and you were ecstatic to say the least.

the day kiara came home was the day that the papers were signed and the only thing racking your brain was the approval of you into her family, being as she was an only child. as you walked downstairs from your bedroom to see mike and anna holding a cake with candles, you spotted kiara next to them with a wide smile and you were filled with happiness. this is all you ever wanted.

you and kiara clicked immediately. after late night talks getting to know each other intricately, it seemed meant to be.

“why do i feel like we were meant to sisters? like obviously we aren’t blood but there has to be a reason that this happened.” kiara exclaimed one night at 3:46 am as you both laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling. your heart bursted inside of your chest and tears welled in your eyes.

“it’s gotta be fate, kie.” you answered shortly, because if you spent any more of your breath speaking longer you were sure that a small happy sob would erupt from your mouth. you felt kie’s hand next to yours and simultaneously linked your pinky’s together as a light breeze came through her open window. the stars and moon lightly illuminated the room and this felt like an actual movie.

you didn’t realize you would get this lucky.

the next morning kiara explained to you that she really really wanted to introduce you to the rest of the pogues. summers with them was always the best time of her life and she wanted to include you in those memories. you agreed without hesitation.

“so pack a bag and they’ll pick us up at the dock in 30!” kiara said, placing her dishes in the dishwasher and taking the last sip from her water.

“wait, do they know i’m coming?” you asked, scared that maybe you were barging in on their plans or maybe they didn’t want you coming in the first place.

“yes, (y/n)! don’t worry! you’re gonna love them.” she replied with a smile and with that, you both went to pack bags and coolers for the day on the marsh.

you rubbed your nervously sweaty hands on the side of your shorts as you waited by the front door for kie. she walked down in a tie-dye shirt and shorts, picking up her backpack and cooler that she left packed at the bottom of the stairs.

“do you think i should be fine with wearing this?” you asked kiara nervously, comparing your outfit to hers.

“yes, (y/n/n)! don’t stress, we’re practically wearing the same thing!” she responded with a chuckle before opening up the front door. you glanced down at your white graphic tee and jean shorts with birkenstocks and let out a breath you had been holding in. you weren’t sure why you were stressing so much. was it because you were about to be faced with three random guys? or maybe they would recognize you from school and associate their thought of you with the weird quiet girl? or maybe they’re the type of people that doesn’t like a person until said person gives them a reason to like them? you blinked hard, trying to clear your thoughts of any anxious feelings and just had to prepare yourself for a good day on a boat.

“hey boys!” kiara called out as you two walked down the wooden ramp to the boat that wasn’t stopping for you and kiara to board. if i slip and fall trying to get onto the moving boat i might just ask mike and anna to unadopt me and runaway to avoid embarrassment.

“you got my kind of juice boxes kie?” the blonde one asked. you associated this as jj as kiara gave you a quick rundown last night of everyone’s names and personalities. she laughed and rolled her eyes at his question.

“as a matter of fact, yes i do.” kiara said as she took the blondes hand to help her onto the boat. process of elimination you knew that pope wasn’t the white guy driving the boat and you gave him a small smile and thank you as he held out a hand for you to board.

“boys, this is my new sister, (y/n)! (y/n), these are my boys.” kiara introduced you guys, with a proud tone. before they could say anything you put your hands up to stop them.

“kie tried quizzing me last night so let me try to get this before you guys say anything. so john b, pope, and jj?” you inquired, pointing to them in the correct order as you announced their name.

“impressive.” pope said with a smile and with his eyebrows raised.

“taught her well, i see.” john b followed up, his eyes staying on the marsh.

“sooo, (y/n). what shit did kiara warn you about us?” jj asked playfully as he caught a beer bottle kiara threw towards his direction.

“uhh, you sure you guys wanna know?” you asked in a tone that would definitely put them on edge because you were messing with them. all of their faces were a mixture of being intrigued, shocked, and slightly offended at the thought that kiara only told you bad things.

“i’m joking, all the good stuff. don’t worry.” you responded, leaning back as you took a sip from your water bottle.

“so (y/n), think you can get used to our pogue life quickly?” john b asked, glancing over to you quickly and than back to the marcsh in front of him.

“fingers crossed.” you said as you lifted your eyebrows and chuckled. your eyes followed jj’s body as he made his way to the front of the boat. groans all escaped the groups mouth besides yours as they realized what he was doing.

pope made his way to move to the back to use john b as a shield. kiara watched from her seat, almost accepting her fate.

“here we go again....” john b somewhat yelled out as the engine became louder. your eyebrows furrowed together as you watched jj lift his beer in front of his face at an angle without it touching his lips. the beer spewed out of the bottle, as he tried to aim in his mouth. this however, didn’t end well because you felt beer spill all over you and into your eyes, a slight yell coming from your mouth.

you and kiara exchanged a glace as your eeyes were wide but you couldn’t help the smile forming on your face. both of you simultaneously looked back to john b who mouthed ‘hold on’ and you didn’t hesitate to grab onto the nearest thing that would stop you from being launched anywhere further.

john b brought the boat to a sudden halt and jj went flying into the air, a loud spalsh following, soaking you more than the beer did. the four of you laughed as you, kie and pope ran to the front of the boat to watch him emerge from the water.

“fuck you john b.” jj seemed to mutter out as he groaned. kiara made her way to john b to help him anchor the boat as pope put out his hand for jj to take. as he took his sweet time swimming back to the boat, you quickly took off your shirt and shorts, revealing your bathing suit and jumped right into the semi-cold water. the water was almost a shock to you and you quickly swam up to catch your breath. when jj hopped back on the boat was when john b and pope jumped in with excited faces right after you.

“kie, come on! the water feels great.” you called out to your new sister. as kiara took off her shirt and shorts, ready to jump in after you, you watched jj walk right in front of her, stopping her in her path. he was saying something to her that you couldn’t make out because of john b and pope speaking right next to you and splashing, but also because you were too focused on him.

you admired the way little droplets of water rolled down his toned back or dropped from the tips of his blonde hair. you watched the way he reached into the cooler and pulled out two cans of beer and handed one to kie, and how the bracelets covering his wrists would slide slightly up and down depending on how his hand was moving. he quickly turned back around but you still didn’t feel the need to pull your eyes away from his body, subtly checking him out.

the only thing that snapped you out of it was when jj hollered out to you three in the water. “i said that kie can only go in the water under the circumstance that she shotguns this beer with me beforehand.” and with that he caught your eyes and gave you a smirk and a wink. your face would feel hot if it wasn’t for the cold water you had submerged yourself in. you smiled and kept yourself afloat to watch them shotgun. it only took 6 seconds for them to finish the beers and the threw the cans on the floor of the boat, jumping in immediately.

the rest of the day was filled with swimming and messing around. they made you feel welcomed immediately. you didn’t feel the need to censor anything you say around them to fit in, really because they didn’t censor themselves in the first place in front of a stranger. kiara had the best friends ever and you were excited for what this would bring in the future. the next couple of hours seemed to fly by and it wasn’t long until you all sat silently, taking in the sunset as john b drove the boat back to his house. your skin felt warm although the breeze cooled you down. all the guys seemed almost eager to get off the boat to settle on steady land in john b’s house and you stayed back to walk with kiara.

“i don’t care if you are into jj or not. but if you want this to be a little secret, i would suggest not being so obvious next time.” kiara teased you as you took her hand to hop off the boat onto the dock.

“fuck, really? thats kinda embarrassing...” you replied, feeling your face get warm as you tugged at your hair at the root in deep thought.

“just be careful with him. he’s kinda into hookup culture.” kiara responded, and you felt your heart sink slightly. you were never the one to be into just hooking up and that’s it. and if you were, you didn’t want that to happen with jj. you liked the idea of jj and thought he was fun, loyal, and spontaneous to and with his friends. you joked here and there as you and kie made your way into john b’s house, placing down your bags to relax yourselves on the couch.

although, you quickly patted down your shorts pockets and looked through your backpack. “fuck, i think i left my phone on the boat. cool if i go back to look for it?” you asked, your question really being targeted towards john b as it was his boat. john b nodded and quickly swallowed his water before waving his hand for you to go.

“here, i’ll help you go look for it.” jj said as he stood up, leaving his spot next to pope on the couch. you gave him a small smile before you both made your way out of the house and down the front stairs. your heart raced as the walk down to the boat was silent. should i say something? does he hate the silence? if he hated to the silence he could say something if we wanted to. maybe i should say something....

jj hopped onto the boat with ease and held out a hand to help you on and steady yourself which you gladly took. “what does it look like?”

“it has a clear case and it’s a white phone.” you responded, searching the back of the boat while he searched the front.

“you know....i saw you looking at me earlier after i hopped back on the boat.” jj stated, walking towards you as he waved your phone in his hands. you, maybe too quickly, shot up and looked at him before grabbing it out of his hands.

“ohh, uh, aha. you did?” you responded, feeling awkward. kie was right, you weren’t really being discreet. “it’s just that-”

“i kinda liked it.” jj spoke confidently, giving you a small smirk. you let out a deep breath and couldn’t fight back the smile you were holding back. “i think you’re really cute, y’know.”

“i gotta say the same to you, maybank.” you said, feeling this new found confidence come out of nowhere. jj didn’t hesitate leaning in and placing his lips on yours. you felt your heart flutter but kissed right back immediately. you left your left hand make it’s way to the nape of his neck while your right one rested on his chest. he held your waist and slightly pulled you closer to him, making you smile slightly into the kiss.

it felt instant but also an eternity when you two pulled away. “is this what you pogues do often? because i could get used to it.” you joked and smiled, as he rolled his eyes playfully and laughed in response.

you really could get used to him doing that.

so i didn’t wanna make them end up together bc it was so soon but im happy with that ending lol, i hope u liked it <3

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to-be-a-spartan · 3 years

Text

To Be A Spartan

Chapter 1: The Myth

18:38 Hours (Shipboard Time), July 20, 2557 (Military Calendar)

Slipstream Space

UNSC Infinity, S-Deck

Sarah Palmer wasn’t quite sure how her day had taken a turn to end up like this, and she damn sure didn’t like it.

The Infinity had picked up a distress call from the Forward Unto Dawn of all things. A ship that had been MIA, presumed destroyed since Operation: BLIND FAITH back in 2552 at the end of the Human-Covenant War. Well, it was a bit more complex than that but Sarah couldn’t be bothered to review the brief she was given on the ship in her head again.

Sarah rolled her eyes as she walked towards the First Officer’s Quarters. The entire ship was practically vibrating with excitement. It was ridiculous. She didn’t understand why they were so excited. The guy was probably dead anyway, because the distress call had been Cortana, his A.I., repeating a single phrase over and over. If you’d asked her prior to 2552 if she even thought the Spartans really existed, it would’ve been a resounding no. She figured the myths of Archangels of Death wreathed in invincible emerald green armor blazing through battlefields and slaughtering the Covenant were just from Shellshocked marines imagining things as reinforcements arrived and gunned down the perpetrators like dogs. She just assumed ONI Section II decided to highly publicize those few and far between victories and craft an immensely complex web of lies and stories to perpetuate the myth of the Spartans and raise morale among the ranks.

But then 2552 rolled around.

The Halo Campaigns, the Invasion of Earth, the Great Schism. So much happened, all centered around a Spartan. Not so much a Spartan, but the Spartan.

Sierra-117. The Master Chief.

One man almost singlehandedly saved the galaxy. That was when she started believing in the Spartans. Of course, Tom had told her stories of the Chief.

About the Covenant invasion of Circinius IV and the subsequent death of nearly all of his friends. Tom always said it was the Master Chief that had rescued them. Sarah loved her friend, she really did, but prior to 2552 she had remained skeptical that he really existed.

Setting those thoughts aside as she reached a bulkhead, she knocked twice.

“Come.”

The bulkhead slid open to reveal a relatively standard UNSC officer’s quarters. About a third larger than regular quarters, there was a steel desk on the far wall next to a wooden bookshelf that was definitely not standard-issue or within regulations, filled with actual paper books. The chair of the desk stood upon a single steel pole that rested in a grove on the deck. That groove contained a small track that let the chair slide along as it was needed and not fall or anything of the sort.

In that chair was Commander Thomas James Lasky, First Officer of the UNSC Infinity, and probably one of the only men who could call Sarah Palmer more than an acquaintance, commanding officer, or one-night stand (and those were very few and far between now).

The fair-skinned man span his chair around to face the door, reaching a hand up to smooth back his hair that was a few shades short of bark brown. He cocked his left leg at the knee and rested his left ankle on his right knee. Holding a datapad in his right hand and resting it in his lap next to the hand he lowered from his hair, he smiled. “I shouldn’t be surprised you’re here, Sarah. What is it?”

Sarah crossed her arms and leaned against the wall on her right side that the door she had entered from was up against. As she looked for the right words, she glanced around the room. Tracing her eyes along the wall, she passed over the small closet allotted to officers. Then along the wall to the door to the personal bathroom all officers were allowed (she also knew Tom despised that officers were given special privileges, so rarely used it for anything other than basic hygiene). From there she looked over to the wall that ran horizontal to the threshold of the door, and the immaculately made bunk pressed against the wall.

He’s nervous.... She thought, glancing back at him. She could see the abnormalities in the rise and fall of his armored chest. It wasn’t consistent. She could easily see the way he dug the tip of his right boot into the deck slightly.

“You’re nervous.” She stated finally, amber-brown eyes meeting his own chocolate-brown ones.

Tom’s brows furrowed ever so slightly, and after a second his smile switched from welcoming to bashful. She recognized the change instantly, she’d known him long enough that she knew every one of his mannerisms like the back of her hand. He lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck, letting out a soft laugh. “You got me.”

Sarah’s lips ticked upwards in a small smile. Tom never failed to make her smile at least once a day. She pushed off the wall and and moved over to sit on the edge of his desk. “Talk to me, Tom. I may not be very good at helping, but I’ll always listen.”

Lasky turned slightly in his chair so he was still facing her. “I know, Sarah. I know.” Then he blinked.

“We don’t have much time. Let’s go.” The armored behemoth that had killed the alien stated in a deep, gravely, but unmistakably human voice.

“Over thirty years ago, that man saved my life.”

“You’re the only survivors.”

“In the school....?”

“On the planet.”

“He risked his life for a bunch of kids.”

“Get to the ‘Hog, I’ll draw their fire!”

“I’ll never understand why.”

“Don’t stop for anything. Including me.”

“I thought I’d never see him again. Twice, in fact.”

“Lasky, no!”

“Axios!”

“First on Circinius during our escape. And again after that, onboard the ship that took us away. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.” Lasky sat the datapad on his desk and uncrossed his legs, resting both feet on the ground and both elbows on his knees.

Sarah didn’t say anything, just reached out a hand and rested it on Tom’s shoulder not covered by that odd piece of armor. She squeezed gently and rolled her lips together, still not saying anything. She didn’t have too.

Tom reached up a hand to rest on Sarah’s on his shoulder, looking up slightly and giving her a grateful nod.

She returned it, sque—

“XO requested bridge. XO requested bridge. Commander Palmer requested bridge. Commander Palmer requested bridge.” Came the voice of the ship’s artificial intelligence, Roland, over the ship-comm.

The pair sighed simultaneously, both standing up and smiling at each other before exiting Lasky’s quarters.

——————

Sarah Palmer walked onto the Command Bridge of the UNSC Infinity with a purpose in her step. It was time to work.

Now clad in her MJOLNIR GEN2 Scout Variant, Sarah felt much more at home than in her skivvies. She let her eyes take in the room, the outer circle of consoles on a slightly elevated platform that had small dips in three places leading down to the second tier where the main holotable of the bridge was sat in front of the viewport with Captain Andrew Del Rio and Tom standing next to it.

Sarah walked over, taking a place opposite of Del Rio and truly working to withhold the glare that tries to work its way out every damn time she looks at the worthless piece of shit. Judging by the look Tom gives her, he’s having the same problem.

“Commander Palmer, how nice of you to finally join us.” Del Rio says in his ever-condescending voice, somehow managing to look down at her even though she towered over the old man.

She bit back a sharp retort, instead sliding into parade-rest and nodding. “Of course, Sir.”

“Now, in two hours we will be leaving Slipspace at the location of the Forward Unto Dawn’s distress call. I want boarding teams ready to deploy the moment we clear the slip. Commander Lasky, you will deploy with them. The Spartan may react better to an officer than another team of Spartans. Understood?” Del Rio spoke slowly, still in that arrogant tone. He didn’t care about finding the Master Chief. He was just looking for another promotion.

Tom looked ready to call him out on his lack of using the Chief’s title, indirectly of course, but just under the edge of the table Sarah caught his wrist and almost imperceptibly shook her head. “Sir, it’s against protocols for any UNSC vessel to not have an Executive Officer aboard at all times. Commander Lasky-“

“Commander Lasky,” Del Rio cut her off, puffing out his chest in an unconscious (as if) attempt to assert dominance. “is no stranger to breaking a few protocols.... isn’t that right?” He looked at Lasky’s chest, exactly where his dog-tags hung under his officer’s BDU.

Sarah found yet another reason for wanting to throttle the Captain. She knew exactly what he was referring to. And she also wanted to throttle him for the look that flew across Tom’s face; She knew Tom well enough to understand he wouldn’t dare say anything, but it had hurt him.

“Of. Course. Sir.” She replied through gritted teeth.

Del Rio studied her for a moment, visibly debating whether to reprimand her or not for her sharpness, but decided against it. “Very well. You’re dismissed.”

—————

Sarah felt the deck rumble beneath her feet as the Infinity lurched out of the blue-black of Slipspace.

“Holy shit-!”

Sarah heard the exclamation from one of the flight technicians fueling up the Pelican and peaked her head out of the Blood-Tray to see what he—

Woah....

Staring back at her through the atmospheric shield of the main hanger bay was a gargantuan metal planet. It had millions upon millions of lights scattered across its surface in perfect geometric patterns, and a large hole in the surface of the planet.

“Oh my God...”

Sarah glanced to her left to see Lasky standing with one foot on the rear ramp of the pelican, the other on the Infinity’s deck. He looked just as mystified as everyone else.

“Now hear this, Now hear this:” Came Roland’s voice over the ship-comm. Then, something spectacular happened: “We have picked up a UNSC IFF tag in the core of the planet. According to all known data on Forerunner constructs, the planet is hollow. All hands, brace for atmospheric entry. We’re going inside.”

And then the deck lurched, and Sarah had to grab the pelican to keep from falling. Tom looked at her, and she shrugged. “Roland!” She barked. “What the hell was that?”

“The planet caught us in a gravity well, Commander!” The A.I. replied, his avatar appearing on a nearby comm pad. “Helm can’t get us out.”

At the same time, his voice came louder iver the ship-comm. “All hands! Brace, brace!” The deck rumbled again and crates went flying as Roland’s avatar vanished.

“Hostile Covenant contacts! All Pathfinder teams are to deploy immediately, we’ll cover you!” Del Rio’s voice snapped over the ship-comm.

“You heard him Commanders!” The voice of Spartan Vixen (Sarah did a double take when she first heard her name to), a member of Gypsy Company, called from the blood tray.

Sarah patted Tom’s shoulder, nodding as they both climbed into the pelican and the engines roared to life.

This is not a good idea.... She thought, but didn’t voice it. No turning back now. Taking a seat next to Tom as the harnesses lowered to keep them in place, she rolled her shoulders.

“Commander Lasky.”

Tom rolled his eyes as Del Rio’s voice sounded over the Pelican’s comm. “Go ahead Captain.”

“I’m assigning your team to locate the origin point of the gravity well that dragged us in-“ His voice got quieter as he turned away from the mic for a moment. “Ready Archer pods Alpha 7 through Bravo 6 and fire!”

“Understood, Captain. We’ll get it done.” Tom replied, then shut off the comm as the pelican arced into a steep dive to avoid a stream of plasma fire, throwing them against the hull.

Several minutes of rapid aerobatics later, Spartan Vixen decided to break the silence. Her deep blue visor turned towards Lasky and she spoke. “First time on a combat flight, Commander?”

The rest of the cabin laughed, Lasky included. He rocked in his harness a lot more than the marines or Spartans, but he seemed fine. He looked at Vixen, smiling good-naturedly. “Quite the opposite, Spartan. I used to be a naval aviator.”

Vixen whistled, nudging another Spartan, Spartan Tetran, with her elbow. “Hear that boys? The Commander here probably gave us fire support at some point.” A holler went around the bay, and everyone knew they were just distracting themselves.

“Commander Lasky, you might want to see this.” Came the voice of their pilot from the cockpit.

Lasky glanced at Sarah, who raised an eyebrow that he shrugged in response to. He raised his harness and stood up, stepping into the cockpit. They didn’t bother to be quiet, so Sarah could easily hear them discussing the gravity well they had apparently spotted.

“Incoming!” The Co-Pilot barked, followed by a flash of gold-orange light, and suddenly they were plummeting towards the surface with fire trailing from their port side wing.

Sarah watched as Tom was thrown from the cockpit and slammed into the ceiling with a pained exclamation before being buffeted into Tetran’s helmet. She unlatched her harness without thinking and grabbed Lasky, holding him against her armored chest. She could take more hits than he could.

“Brace for—“ CRASH

The pilot was cut off as the pelican slammed into the canopy of the alien trees below, the sound of metal being obliterated like wet tissue paper filling her ears as she and Tom were thrown about the cabin. The pelican slammed into something else, causing the rear ramp to fly open and Sarah to be thrown from the bay with Tom in her arms.

She flew through the air, doing her best to ensure she landed first instead of To—

CRACK

Then everything went black.

#To Be A Spartan #Chapter 1 #2.3 K words #Sarah Palmer #Thomas Lasky #Roland #Andrew Del Rio #Gypsy Company Spartan OCs #Marine OCs #Prometheans #John-117/Sarah Palmer

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Baby Let's Keep It Secret (Jan x Jackie) - Ortega

a/n: i speed-wrote this after being struck with inspiration and a new-found obsession with jankie, so enjoy!! i legit hate it more with every re-read though so i’m submitting before i honestly del-yeet it off the face of the internet. it’s a little piece within the strictly au-verse from one of the background couples’ points of view, and i’m planning to do more of these so keep a lil eye out! i hope u all enjoy anyway, and that u for all the love on chapter 4! it makes me dead happy xxxxxxxx

plot summary: “But now she’s here, on a wet, cold Monday morning, with no texts and no sign of Jackie and a heartbeat that belongs to a hummingbird. Jackie probably regrets everything and Jan has to spend the rest of the competition with her and it’s going to be unbearably awkward.”

***

Jan is the first to arrive at the church hall on Monday morning. It’s freezing, and she pulls her off-shoulder gym sweater over her wrists and fidgets with the sleeves. She both feels the cold and doesn’t. The racing that her pulse is currently doing serves as a heater, and she can’t stop pacing either. She thanks God that the film crew aren’t there this morning, because she doesn’t have very many coherent thoughts, never mind words.

They had won the first episode. Well. “Won” isn’t the right word, but they came top of the leaderboard, and the praise from the judges still rings in Jan’s ears if she thinks about it hard enough:

“The technical elements were all there, and Jan, that choreography was to die for, well done.”

“This partnership is gonna be one to watch, for sure, the chemistry between you two is just incredible!”

“This was a strong first week, keep this up, I can’t wait to see what comes next from you.”

“It was so full of fun and joy, such a cheeky routine and you both created so much tension, good job!”

Although instead of the joy they’d all sparked on Saturday night, instead they now all serve as a reminder as to what happened after that, and Jan feels her face flush hot as the embarrassment hits her all over again, fuck. Why does she have to be such an eager lovesick puppy all the goddamn time? It never ends well. Jan knows that, but she keeps repeating the same behaviour every time she gets a new crush and expects different results.

But Jackie is different. She’s a woman, at least, and that’s new for Jan. Jan’s used to either men- rough, heavy hands, too fast and too slow all at once- or girls- all her high-school experiences that she’s repressed and shoved in the back of a filing cabinet in her mind for future Jan to deal with.

Except they’ve all come bursting out at once like that scene in Bruce Almighty that used to make her laugh so much as a teenager. It was induction day, really, that had caused it all. Jan remembers standing on the opposite side of the room to Jackie Cox and trying not to make it obvious that her gaze was getting drawn to her every five seconds like she was a magnet, the black running leggings and cutout strappy sports bra she had been wearing still sending shivers up Jan’s spine if she thinks about them again. The way her heart had risen to the sky with anticipation and excitement was almost cringeworthy; she had truly felt like a schoolgirl with a crush on a teacher. Okay, Jackie isn’t that much older than her, but Jan knew her, of course she knew her. She is Jackie Cox. You can’t switch on the news without seeing her face, you can’t go on Twitter without seeing people retweet her latest biting bit of government-critical commentary that’s likely going to get her fired one day. Watching her chat with the other girls on that induction day was mesmerising- she was fun and goofy and had a big smile on her face the whole time but she simultaneously exuded a calm and self-assured sense of power that Jan had felt inexplicably intoxicated by.

They’d been paired together and Jan had been so nervous and anxious to impress her and get on well with her but Jackie had just been so relaxed and easy-going and had taken to everything Jan had taught her like a duck to water. When they’d been officially paired on launch night Jan had been so overjoyed that she’d screamed the place down.

And now they’re partners. For the past fortnight they’ve spent every waking moment together, and it’s been both a blessing and a curse. In rehearsals, Jackie is no-nonsense- she wants to learn the dance, and she wants to be taught- but every time they stop for a break Jackie’s goofing around and winding Jan up and pestering her to post this, that and the next thing to Instagram. The woman is limpet-levels of touchy, not that Jan’s complaining. She’s always resting a hand on Jan’s knee when they stop for a break, grabbing her arm as she laughs at something Jan’s said, gently butting her head against Jan’s shoulder when it’s late and they’re both tired but they just have to finish up this last little bit of the routine.

Of course, if Jan notices it with every hour they spend together, then it’s not long until it gets picked up on by others. They’ve gone live on Instagram one day and Jackie’s got her arm around Jan’s shoulders and Jan’s leaning into her. Jan can feel Jackie’s heartbeat and it’s going like a bullet train and Jan wonders if it’s her that’s making Jackie’s heart race as much as it is before dismissing that thought as the delusional ramblings of someone with a too-big crush. They’re answering questions that their fans have sent in and Jan taps on one a little deliberately.

“Jackie, what’s your favourite thing about rehearsing with Jan?” Jan reads, smiling with her tongue trapped between her teeth. She doesn’t dare turn to face Jackie because she can see on screen how close her face is to hers and she doesn’t need that proximity adding to the list of reasons Jackie’s able to mess with her head. Jackie’s looking at her though, and her smirk is so cheeky that it turns Jan’s insides to jelly.

“Uh, nothing, she’s dreadful,” Jackie says, causing Jan to yelp an affronted cry and Jackie to stick her tongue out at her. It’s near the end of their first week of rehearsals and it’s nice that they’re already at the stage that they can joke about in the way that they’re doing.

(Some might call it flirting, but Jan’s loath to get her hopes up so high.)

“No, I think in all seriousness it’s…her smile,” Jackie concludes, and the answer feels like the best kind of gut punch. Jan has to actively control her facial expressions and mold them into something that isn’t just two ginormous heart eyes and a dopey lovesick smile. The smile that Jackie likes the best. Jackie continues, her eyes now cast into her lap as she picks at a bit of fluff on her leggings. “She’s always smiling, she’s always positive. Even if I mess up the routine, she’s still smiling at me and patient with me. And it’s just nice. So…yeah.”

Jan can’t help herself. She turns to face Jackie, deliberately shoots her a dazzling smile. “That’s sweet. Thank you.”

Jackie gives her a little wink that translates to you’re welcome. Jan wants to interpret it as something more, but she can’t hope that much.

That’s when it starts. The first comment scrolls across the screen, then another, then another.

janetmanitoneeeee: omg u guys are too much

strictlyjan2003: something’s going onnnnnnnnn

janstan04: WE ALL SHIP IT

janstan04: JANKIE

Jan tries to ignore them all but they’re relentless and swarming across her screen like locusts, and Jackie points them out before she can do a thing about them.

“What the hell is Jankie? What ship?” she laughs, confused. Jan waves her hand dismissively, gives a snort.

“Oh, God, it’s like…they think we would be good together. Like. As a couple.”

“Oh,” Jackie raises her eyebrows. Jan is blushing slightly as she keeps her eyes trained on the screen. Jackie’s face is surprised, but not unpleasantly so. “So they want to see us bon-”

“Family show, Jaqueline!” Jan laughs, cutting her off before she can reach the end of her sentence. Jackie snorts and the conversation is dropped as they move on to something else.

But Jan wonders how the sentence would’ve ended. Scratch that, she knows how the sentence would’ve ended, and from that day on there’s a change in the atmosphere. Jackie doesn’t look at her the same but that’s not necessarily for the worse. Their routine ramps up a gear- it’s somehow just better. Well, not somehow, there’s a reason. It’s the same reason Jan can feel Jackie’s eyes on her whenever she stretches in rehearsal, whenever she peels a layer of clothing off in a break. It’s the same reason they’ve started openly flirting with each other, and Jackie’s little suppressed smile and raised eyebrows is what Jan imagines cocaine might feel like- she’s not done it, she wouldn’t know. Making Jackie laugh becomes an addiction, spending time with Jackie is an addiction. When Jan gets the tube back from Hounslow and arrives back at her flat all shrouded in darkness she feels as if there’s part of her missing. Which is ridiculous. They’ve only been paired together for a week. Admittedly in that short time there’s been a few tabloid articles about them, the speculation already beginning. Jan would be lying if she said she didn’t like it.

Through it all, they rehearse. They practise and practise until Jan’s muscles ache, because more time rehearsing means more time with Jackie and the more they rehearse means the better they get. It’s a win-win situation. So when they smash their routine on Saturday, really knock it out the park, and get (“Eight!” “Eight!” “Eight!” “Eight!”) 32/40, Jan’s head is spinning. On the floor they were electric and sexy and the sparks were practically flying off them, Jan didn’t imagine it. Jackie doesn’t take her hands off her once it’s done- a protective arm around her waist as they receive their critiques, her hand in Jan’s as they tear up the stairs and give their post-routine interview, both arms around her in a crushing hug after their scores are revealed. An arm around Jan’s shoulders as they weave their way backstage to yet another interview, a hand lazily pressed against her hip. The constant close proximity is making Jan almost lightheaded, and so when they’re finally alone Jan isn’t really thinking straight. That’s why she takes Jackie’s hand and tugs her towards her dressing room, laughing gently at the confusion painting her face.

“Jan, we’ve got to go back to makeup!”

“Just…c’mere!” she giggles, tugging on Jackie’s hand again. Jackie gives her a roll of her eyes and a long-suffering smile, and takes two steps forward to follow Jan into her dressing room. As soon as the door swings shut, Jan can’t control herself any longer and she immediately pulls Jackie in, one hand still tangled in Jackie’s and the other curled around her waist, and Jan is so close she swears she can pinpoint the moment Jackie’s pupils dilate.

“Oh,” Jackie murmurs. It’s nothing, a literal letter of the alphabet, but Jan swears it’s the hottest thing she’s ever heard. Jackie wets her bottom lip with her tongue. “So this is why we’re in your dressing room.”

“Uh-huh,” Jan nods quickly. Her heart gives a concerningly heavy thud as Jackie brings her free hand up to ghost over her neck and tangle in her hair, tousled and wavy for the routine, and Jan thanks Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus that it’s not in some intricate bun. There’s a pause where nothing seems to be happening except the two of them smiling at each other and waiting to kiss. Jan loves it, though, this kind of purgatory they’ve created, so she presses her body against Jackie’s as she drops her voice lower. “You were so good out there, fuck, you were amazing.”

Jackie tries and fails to conceal a smile. She drops her hand out of Jan’s grip and brings it up to rest at her waist. “Did you just bring me in here to compliment me, or are we going to kiss?”

“Fuck, please,” Jan breathes. It only takes that much for Jackie to instantly lean down and close the gap between them. It’s not enough and too much all at once, the tension that’s been building between them finally coming to a head and Jan feels like she’s melting, ice to Jackie’s fire. Her lips are soft and slick with the gloss that makeup applied before they went on stage and Jan is gripped with a sense of longing and wanting that’s so visceral it almost scares her. She pulls her body flush against Jackie’s own and she feels Jackie gasp against her lips. The noise only adds to how embarrassingly needy Jan’s becoming- she’s way too turned on already, shockwaves pulsing through her whole body. It’s a kiss, it’s nothing more than that, and yet it’s better than any sex Jan’s had with a man in her life.

Jackie pulls away. Jan whines, and it elicits a smug smile from the other woman. Jan doesn’t want to know how much of a mess she looks. If it’s half as much as how she feels, it’s going to be too telling. She takes Jackie by the wrist again, pouts as she tries to pull her in. Jackie doesn’t budge.

“Makeup,” she teases. Jan lets out a groan. She cannot go back and interact with other people right now. Her whole world is Jackie.

“Please, just two more minutes,” she begs. For a moment Jan thinks she sees a flash of lust in Jackie’s eyes. She takes the sign of weakness and runs with it, pushing her bottom lip out. “Please?”

“Fuck, Jan,” Jackie laughs, rubs the back of her neck and rolls her head to the ceiling. “You’re so gorgeous and it physically pains me to have to say it but someone’s gonna come bang on this door if we don’t get back soon.”

Jan sighs, doesn’t wipe the pout off her face. Jackie quirks a warning eyebrow at her in return.

“Stop being a brat, c’mon,” she warns her, and Jan would be lying if she said Jackie didn’t just make the whole situation worse.

Or better. Probably better.

They go to makeup and they get their smudges cleaned up and the foundation they’ve sweated off re-applied, and they head back to the studio to watch the final dance of the night, Crystal and Gigi’s. Jan cheers for her friend despite the fact the pair of them are so good at their frighteningly fast Samba that they threaten to topple her and Jackie off the top of the leaderboard. They don’t, but they come close (thirty-one), and as Jan claps she makes a mental note to step up her and Jackie’s choreography tomorrow. The pair of them don’t get another moment alone until they’ve cleaned all their makeup off and got changed back into their comfies ready to head home. Jackie swings by Jan’s dressing room as she’s packing up and Jan involuntarily blushes, remembering the last time they’d both been in this room a mere thirty minutes ago.

“Hey. Crushed it tonight,” Jackie smiles proudly, the praise lighting up both Jan’s face and heart.

“Yeah, we really did that, huh?” she returns her grin, looks to the floor with slight embarrassment. Jackie pauses before she speaks next.

“Well, guess I’ll see you Monday?”

Jan tries not to look disappointed, but really, the single logical brain cell she possesses scolds her, what the hell did she think was going to happen? Her smile becomes fake despite it not physically changing. “Yeah, sure!”

Jackie gives a small laugh. “Sure, Jan!”

Jan has to let out a small snort at that, and she risks meeting her partner’s eyes again. Jackie is hovering at the door.

“I’ll text you,” she smiles decisively, Jan’s hopes instantly being raised as she nods enthusiastically and waves goodnight.

But now she’s here, on a wet, cold Monday morning, with no texts and no sign of Jackie and a heartbeat that belongs to a hummingbird. Jackie probably regrets everything and Jan has to spend the rest of the competition with her and it’s going to be unbearably awkward. All Jan did on Sunday was choreograph their dance, the sexiest tango she could possibly manage, while replaying their kiss in her head and checking her phone obsessively. She feels like an idiot, even more so when Jackie bounces through the door and waves at her with a big grin on her face as if nothing has happened.

“Morning!” she sing-songs as she shrugs her jacket off and chucks her bag down underneath a pile of stacked chairs. Jan blinks at her, taken-aback. “How are you? Good day off?”

“Well, I mean. I was doing choreo, wasn’t exactly a day off,” Jan shrugs. She can’t help but be cold- Jackie is acting as if she’s got short-term memory loss, and it’s killing Jan along with the sweatpants that are slung low on Jackie’s hips and the baggy sweater that’s hiding her thin frame. The shift in tone seems to work and Jackie is looking at her through narrowed eyes, then laughing slightly.

“Shit, yeah, sorry I didn’t text. I honestly was wiped out yesterday, I did a stint on News 24 and then I had like an eight-hour nap in the middle of the day.”

Jan can’t help but quirk a smile at her. “Eight hours? That’s not a nap, that’s a full sleep.”

Jackie shrugs, and her dark eyes soften. Jan is reminded of looking into them on Saturday, her pupils wide and blown, and the memory almost gives her whiplash. “I am sorry, Jan, I can tell you’re mad at me.”

Jan gives a scoff of a laugh, tries to pretend she’s offended. “Mad? I’m not mad at you, God, I’m not…no, I’m chill. It’s fine.”

Jackie raises her eyebrows at her disapprovingly and it makes Jan’s stomach flip over and heat pool low in her stomach. “Yeah, you sound it. Okay, what’re we doing this week?”

Jan swallows before she speaks. “Uh, tango! I thought, y’know, the judges loved our chemistry so much last week so if we play on that it might get us good scores again.”

Jackie’s smile grows on her face and it makes Jan’s heart flutter in anticipation as she takes two steps closer to her. “Mm, good plan. Definitely not seeing an ulterior motive behind that at all.”

Jan is warming up to her but she wants to make Jackie suffer just a little so she flips her golden ponytail over her shoulder and turns away from her, fiddling with her phone and scrolling to the song she’s chosen. To her satisfaction, Jackie follows her over to the speaker near the raised little stage at the other end of the hall, jumps up so that she’s sitting on it and swings her legs. “What’s it to?”

Jan bites back a smile. “React.”

“As in Pussycat Dolls, React?” Jackie grins at her. Jan is fighting to hold back her smirk as Jackie inspects her nails. “That’s kind of ironic.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jan shrugs lightly, making to walk into the centre of the room when Jackie shoots a hand out and takes her by the wrist.

“Hey,” Jackie murmurs, pulling her close. Jan is standing right in front of her and Jackie’s knees are digging into her stomach a little, but she doesn’t mind. “I was thinking about you yesterday. I promise I didn’t forget about Saturday night.”

Jan raises her eyebrows in slight disbelief. She’s about to make some comment about not missing her enough to text her, but Jackie spreads her legs and guides her in between them so that they’re close. The action makes Jan’s eyes flutter shut in a heavy blink as she attempts to gather her thoughts. Jackie squeezes the hand she’s taken.

“You’re really cute,” Jackie says bluntly, and Jan feels the blush hit her face like she’s been slapped.

“You’re really cute,” Jan parrots back at her, her knees almost turning to jelly when Jackie reaches out and tucks a small strand of loose hair behind her ear. There’s a moment where they’re both just gazing into each others’ eyes, and Jan feels as if it’s straight out of a movie scene. Her heart almost hurts with how much she likes Jackie.

Jackie drops her voice low to a whisper, pulls Jan closer. “Can we kiss in a church?”

Jan feels like she’s just been shocked by a defibrillator. “Well. Jesus might be watching.”

“I’m sure he’ll allow it,” Jackie shrugs before tilting her head, sliding her hands onto Jan’s waist, and meeting her lips with her own. Jan melts into her slowly, refrigerated chocolate on a hot day. This kiss is different to the one they shared on Saturday night- they know it’s just them, and they know they have all the time in the world so they kiss as if time doesn’t exist. It’s so early that Jan can taste Jackie’s mint toothpaste, and the realisation makes her heart give a twinge of affection. Jackie does like her, and Saturday wasn’t a mistake, and the blood in her veins races in anticipation because something is happening between them and it’s more exciting than any glitterball trophy.

Jan breaks the kiss this time, the petty side of her still wanting the upper hand, but she doesn’t move her arms from their position looped around Jackie’s neck and resting on her shoulders. She doesn’t even try to conceal the smile that appears on her face as she watches Jackie’s eyes flutter open lazily, the moment so unexpectedly tender that it knocks her for six.

“Is this a thing now?” she finds herself saying before she can stop the words rushing out of her mouth, and she instantly wants to cringe. Too keen, too eager, too enthusiastic. Although the panic rising in her throat dissipates when Jackie tries to stifle a grin and fails.

“Fuck, we’re the worst kind of cliché. Strictly curse got us by week three,” she groans, tilting her head to the cracks in the ceiling. She brings her gaze back to look Jan in the eye, suddenly turning serious. “We’re going to have to keep this quiet, though. Not that I’m ashamed or anything, sorry, that came out wrong. I just don’t want anyone thinking this is some cheap stunt we’re using to get votes because it’s…more than that. To me, anyway.”

The affirmation Jackie’s just given her sends Jan’s hopes rocketing skywards and this time she doesn’t even try to lower them. The smile on her face turns scheming. “I can sneak around if you want, although I don’t know how easy it’s going to be for you to keep your hands off me, Miss Cox…”

Jan laughs as Jackie groans and shoves her away playfully. As much as Jan wants to pin her to the stage and smother her with kisses and maybe a little more (the thought of fucking in a church is too much to entertain at this particular moment), she straightens her posture decisively and grabs her phone.

“Right, we need to rehearse. Because the better we do in this competition, the longer you get to spend every single day with your hands all over me. And that’s just during rehearsals.”

Jan shoots Jackie a wink and Jackie laughs as she saunters across to the middle of the room to warm up.

If Jan’s got anything to do with it, they’re not going to be leaving the competition any time soon.

#rpdr fanfiction #jankie #jan sport #jackie cox #strictly au #lesbian au #baby let's keep it secret #ortega #s12

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beneaththetangles · 3 years

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Reader’s Corner: Silver Spoon, Solo Leveling, and the Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya

Solo Leveling, Vol. 1 (novel)

The immensely popular webtoon, Solo Leveling, features a basic premise about a young man rising from the lowest of ranks of “hunting” to become incredibly strong. It’s most appreciated for its art, so the question is, if the story is mundane, does it’s forerunner, which lacks any illustrations, hold up? It does—surprisingly well. Volume one of Chugong’s novel series, originally published on the web and now being released by Yen Press, traces the story of Level-E ranked hunter, Jin-Woo, in mesmerizing detail as he “levels up” following an experience that should have lead to his demise. That opening is only one of a number of violent but engaging episodes in the novel, which also relies heavily on descriptions of game-like mechanics. As the rare anime fan that isn’t a gamer, my eyes usually glaze over such details, but Chugong’s vivid but spare descriptions kept me engaged, as the protagonist moves quickly along his journey, which still, is well structured, even if his characterization if less developed. That’s both a flaw of the series and a point of question: Is Jin-woo’s desire for “Money, honor, and power” meant to be admired, glossed over, or criticized? I’m not yet sure, and I wonder if Jin-Woo’s moral development will become a significant part of the story beneath the well-crafted verneer of fighting and powering up, which as imaginative as it is, can’t very well carry an entire series—can it? ~ Twwk

Solo Leveling is published by Yen Press, which provided a review copy.

Neon Genesis Evangelion: The Shinji Ikari Raising Project, Vol. 18

I did it (insert GIF of everyone applauding Shinji here). I finally finished reading Neon Genesis Evangelion: The Shinji Ikari Raising Project. And let me tell you something about it: While there are science fiction undertones and references to the original series throughout that give you genuine laughs, by the end, the series is primarily just an ecchi teen romantic comedy with Evangelion characters as window dressing. Every chapter is an opportunity for Shinji to mistakenly trip, fall, and accidentally grope a girl. Every other chapter, by the end, sees a character with exposed breasts—sometimes because of said clusiness, sometimes because the mangaka just decides to draw an extended group bathing scene. This volume gives the final actual reference to an Evangelion, but once again, there’s no actual use of it. This alternate Eva-verse is, in the end, a school harem romance and not a science fiction epic that discusses about real issues like depression. For some, that’s fine. For others, the blatant fanservice will be too much. For me, I am still so very struck by how out of character both Shinji and Gendo act in this series when compared to the original . I guess Yui Ikari being alive really made a huge difference! ~ MDMRN

Neon Genesis Evangelion: The Shinji Ikari Raising Project, Vol. 18 is published by Dark Horse Comics.

The Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya

First released in the U.S. eleven years ago, and originally published in 2004, Yen Press has rereleased The Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya (along with all the others) to coincide with the new Haruhi Suzumiya light novel. After all this time, it holds up surprisingly well, and in fact perhaps takes on more meaning now in the booming light novel industry as a series that—as with the anime—inspired so many of today’s writers. A quick read—it tells just one longer tale instead of several shorter one, coming in at under 200 pages—every sentence is meaningful, every chapter tightly structured, and every emotion hits with precision and sharpness as the series at once returns to an older act, takes the story to new places (and new heights), and brings in questions from the future as Kyon wakes to discover that the SOS Brigade has disbanded, no one has ever hear of a Haruhi Suzumiya, and Asahina and Nagato no longer have their peculiar powers. The volume works so well because it depends on those preceding it, not only for it’s “return to the past” plot but also as it ramps up the nostalgia and emotions in both Kyon and the reader. Everything is predicated on how the reader feels about these characters, leading to a tale that’s simultaneously a love fest for the series and one that is satisfying in its own right. Disappearance proves to be, much like its characters, a light novel that surely is timeless. ~ Twwk

The Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya is published by Yen Press, which provided a review copy.

The Genius Prince’s Guide to Raising a Nation Out of Debt (Hey, How About Treason?), Vol. 1

What we have with this mouthful of a title is a more comedic (and non-isekai) take on the kingdom-running light novel. Prince Wein is appointed regent to run the country of Natra in place of his ailing father, but given how terrible the state of his nation is in financially, he would much rather just sell the country off and run away. Yeah, he’s lazy and a coward. The problem is, he’s also a bit too smart for his own good, and plans that he intend to go towards relieving his workload and avoiding confrontation only make people believe he can totally win wars and bring the country back to greatness. (It helps that the countries trying to deal with Natra have issues of their own…) The result is an amusing read as I had fun seeing Wein pull out plans that work a bit too well and have him suffering from success. I also liked how his relationship with Ninym, his childhood friend and primary aide, is framed in the story both as a teammate that Wein relies on to help run the country, and also a close companion (and love interest) whom he banters with but also trusts deeply and does not tolerate any insults toward her from others. Overall I’m definitely looking forward to reading more from this series and how Wein will continue to help his country more than he might want to. ~ stardf29

The Genius Prince’s Guide to Raising a Nation Out of Debt (Hey, How About Treason?), Vol. 1 is available from Yen Press.

Dragon Head

Dragon Head was a horror manga series I picked up last year from a Kodansha Halloween Humble Bundle. Let me tell you—it is dark, earning its way into that genre heading. The first volume begins with three teenagers trying to survive in an underground subway tunnel after an earthquake event caused its collapse. As the story progresses, and effects on the surface world around them are revealed, the characters discover that the earthquake was no isolated incident but something that struck all of Japan. It is gritty and violent at times. Yet, the overall story and a desire to see how these characters survive kept me reading page after page. I finished the entire 10 volume series in about three days time as I had a hard time putting it down. The ending is is a hard one, and perhaps very fitting for this work, leading readers to consider how widespread the problems that struck and set the events of the series really are. Psychological horror indeed. ~ MDMRN

Dragon Head is published by Kodansha.

Silver Spoon, Vol. 1

With Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood continuing its tear through our annual AniMarch Madness tournament, I turn my attention to the other now-classic work from mangaka Hiromu Arakawa. Silver Spoon, which ended its run in 2019, is a fish out of water tale featuring high school freshman Hachiken, an academic-focused city boy who decides to attend an agricultural high school in Hokkaido. Volume one has fun with his inability to get used to farm life, though it also sensitively looks at his reasons for choosing this high school while showing that even early on, Hachiken is growing, such as when he condescends horses only to be taught how the majestic animals can show the rider a different perspective on life. It doesn’t take long for readers to grow attached to the series characters, like Aikawa, who is the determined to overcome his sensitivity to blood and death to become a veterinarian, and Nishikawa, who loves tractors and mecha. But most of all, Hachiken makes for a compelling character. Like Edward from FMA, Hachiken is easily frustrated but kind and open; it’s lovely to see him already developing among friends so different from what he’s used to, even while seeing him frequently fall (and slowly get back up)—a source of laughter page after page in this wonderful introductory volume. ~ Twwk

Silver Spoon, Vol. 1 is published by Yen Press, which provided a review copy.

#Manga #Light Novels #Solo Leveling #Neon Genesis Evangelion: The Shinji Ikari Raising Project #Shin Seiki Evangelion: Ikari Shinji Ikusei Keikaku #The Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya #Suzumiya Haruhi no Shoushitsu #The Genius Prince’s Guide to Raising a Nation Out of Debt (Hey How About Treason)#Tensai Ouji no Akaji Kokka Saisei Jutsu: Sou da Baikoku Shiyou #Dragon Head #Silver Spoon #Gin no Saji #Reader's Corner #Articles #Author: TWWK #Author: MDMRN #Author: stardf29

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very-grownup · 3 years

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THE YEAR IS 2020 AND I WATCHED NEON GENESIS EVANGELION FOR THE FIRST TIME, PART 13

Episode 25.

I spend twenty minutes after the episode ends trying to articulate what I think happened to my friends, gesticulating wildly.

The episode starts with a condensed version of the last upsetting bits of the previous episode and thus sets the ground for my difficulty in expressing my thoughts on it because of the imperfect intersection of linear narrative and metaphorical examination of selfhood. I've been trying to follow the show as a narrative, even as things dissolve, but here everything just goes STOP NO CONTEXT JUST IDEA AND INTERNAL INTERROGATION which I think I follow but I have difficulty following WHILE ALSO thinking about giant robots.

Something bad happened after the events of the last episode and maybe in the overall narrative structure that's all that matters? I guess this episode is about the question of what the end goals of all the barely understood players are vis-à-vis humanity through Shinji et al.

How can we be our fullest self? What and who informs who that self is? The passive approach, as seen in Shinji, isn't it. You cannot only do what you are directly told to do and you can't intuit what other people want you to do as unspoken directions.

The isolationist approach, as seen in Asuka, isn't it, either. Trying to act and live above and without human connections or direction has made her sense of self the most fragile. She's just a shell projecting an ideal around a core of hatred.

Misato is there as, perhaps, the end result of trying to live life like Shinji into adulthood (the result of Asuka's approach is evident because she's shattered), a projected false self created to fulfill the outside expectations of others while the inner self gets lost.

Rei I feel is the one who is closest to having it 'right' insomuch as there can be a right way to be a human being (and perhaps part of what Evangelion and its characters are grappling with is that there isn't or if there is, it's not a simple thing). She recognizes that who Rei is is shaped by Rei's interactions with other people and the passage of time and I think that Rei 3's apparent rejection or turn on Gendo's influence is because she knows that's not the entirety of it. Everyone is confronted to some degree by the fact that the version of themselves seen by other people is flawed but in Rei's case she's able to know it in a profound way because she is aware of the previous Reis and their memories but also of herself as distinct from them. So Shinji knows her but he doesn't Know Her and much of what Rei knows of others is removed, the Rei deaths and recreations putting a barrier between a direct human connection. The human connection is key but perhaps the degree to which so much of it is abstracted in Rei is why she isn't fully emotionally engaged as a person, even when her understanding of personhood is so much fuller than the others. No human connection leads to Asuka: fragile and quickly destroyed. Shinji recognizes the importance of the human connection, maybe, but fails to enact the how and in its place he has the projections of what he thinks other people want guiding him.

The people in our hearts aren't real people but just manifestations of our self speaking through puppets that look like people we know and can't substitute for human connection and create a similarly false self for the benefit of the false people projections (Misato).

Shinji's fear of being hurt by human connections results in his inability to make human connections and his holding himself up to the standards of imagined human connections which are unsatisfying and disappointing to everyone, including him.

Gendo's Human Instrumentality Project seems to be about recognizing the need for human connections, specifically individuals filling needs for each other that cannot be filled by the individual alone, both for the pursuit of fulfilling the need to find the true self but also taking humanity beyond humanity. I think it's because Gendo has sublimated his grief and sense of loss with respect to his wife into viewing the ability of individuals to obtain fulfillment and then lose it as a weakness that can be overcome.

If all of humanity loses its individuality and turns into the orange tang all humans are always complete and cannot be made incomplete by losing part of themselves. This is too much connection and gross, indistinguishable. What is the point of this if there is no individual?

Right now it looks like all approaches are imperfect and lead to failure, certainly in the context of Evangelion and these characters.

Visually everything is very cool in this episode even though the budget limitations are obvious. The work arounds are creative and inform the substance of what's being said, I think? There's distortion and dissolving and isolated figures on foldout chairs under spotlights.

My favourite thing is how the false characters, the characters talking to the real characters in the chair, are clearly drawn differently, badly, off model. Something is done to indicate their lack of realness, especially the false Shinji in Misato's heart.

I'm sorry if this commentary has become increasingly boring, I'm sorry if I'm doing or talking about Evangelion wrong or badly or pointlessly. I've really enjoyed it. This concludes my report on the penultimate episode of Neon Genesis Evangelion.

The final episode behind the cut.

Episode 26.

I appreciate the honesty of opening the episode with text that basically announces "look we don't have the time to explain everything so we're just going to explain it as it pertains to this microcosm called Shinji". It's a very clever/honest sort of meta acknowledgement of MAN THE BUDGET OOPS but I feel it's also in a way of framing the psychological aspect of the narrative as something that is not unique to Shinji but Shinji is merely the lens through which something more universal is viewed.

The episode seems to be divided into four distinct sections. The first bit is a ramped up version of the meditative internal discussions that have become increasingly frequent during the series. Interrogation by on screen text asking questions like are you happy, why aren't you happy, what do you want, why do you want this, why do you do that ... some of them very basic therapy sort of questions, others being refinements of that, questions meant to prompt you to look inward for an answer only you have.

But although we're told that this is an examination of Shinji sometimes Asuka is answering, sometimes Rei is answering. Sometimes they're asking the questions. Sometimes other characters are asking or elaborating, unseen.

Previously I've talked about feeling like narrative-wise things have been dissolving, when I try to recall a sequence of events, but here what's dissolving is the distinction between the characters because the experiences are unique but the feelings are inherently universal.

There's a lot of different things going on here, visually. Still portraits, reused footage from previous episodes, repeated shots of a rotary phone with the cable cut really sticks in my mind for some reason, what seem to be actual black and white photos of contemporary Japan. There's a universal quality and it's also how everything around you, all the people and experiences, make up the you that you are, shown with an outline of Shinji that's filled with rapidly flashing poorly imposed images of others that don't fit in his outline. It's cool.

That's when the episode transitions to its second bit which is, like, I don't know. It's a bit student film, it's a bit like that Loony Toons bit where Daffy Duck is talking directly to the animator who can erase and redraw him at will. It's barely animated in parts.

I had this understanding that Evangelion ran out of money near the end and that the last episode was barely animated at all and I think I assumed it would be like how I understand the second disc of Xenogears to be, just ... text because we can't do assets? But it's not. It's unpolished and sketchy and minimal, in spots just pencil drawings or roughly coloured in with markers, at one point it's just wave forms? But it was sad and weirdly beautiful and it felt like an extension of Shinji's internal struggle for meaning and understanding. Maybe because the lack of budget gives it an aesthetic similar to a student or art school film, it informs the material with a sincerity that I feel would be lacking in a more polished, traditional product. The fewer hands that can be felt in something the more /authentic/ it feels.

I, at least, have a greater patience and a great appreciation for something when I feel an authentic quality from it, even though that's only my perception. Form and substance compliment each other here, even if it's just because of budget constraints.

There's a really good part where it's just Shinji in a white void and it's, you know, about how that's the safest because there's nothing constraining him because he's the only thing, but it feels empty because how do we know what we are if we have no references. So a horizontal line is drawn and that's the ground in this white void and Shinji is then standing on the ground and it's reassuring, it's a reality that simultaneously limits your options but in limiting them defines what they are. It's just ... good.

Once things have been completely broken down it's time to I think reassemble them and that's the third part of the episode where Shinji wakes up in an otoge game where everything is good and normal and Asuka's his childhood friend, his mother is alive (but still faceless) and his father ... also exists and is not being actively cruel but hidden behind a newspaper, similarly faceless, existing but known (he's at the table, Yui is in the kitchen with her back always to the camera), Misato's his hot teacher, Rei is the new transfer student ... There's running to school with toast in mouth (from otoge Rei). Shinji's just a Normal Teen (but the normalcy is false, this weird artificial hyper normalcy that contrasts with the sad, raw realness of Shinji's life in Tokyo 3).

That's on the stage that Shinji is watching from his stool in the empty gymnasium with Misato and it goes dark and it's like ... this is another reality but I don't think it's meant to be a quantum thing but an example of the potential of, like, /imagine/ a you who is happy. So this is the fourth part of the episode and it's characters, every single character, interrogating Shinji, pointing out Shinji's flaws, and giving him ... advice? Guidance? A lot of it is ... bad. The characters recognize real problems Shinji has, that Shinji knows he has and then they tell him things which are presented as, for lack of a better term, 'solutions' to his problems of self. But a lot of them are not actionable. Some of them are little more than 'you hate yourself but have you considered ... not hating yourself?'

Much like when Shinji gets praised, once, by his father for what he did in the robot and that is assumed to be good because it's good in comparison to the nothing he's received, the words Shinji gets here are presumed good because they're actual acknowledgement of his problems.

The result is Shinji standing on the earth, surrounded by the other characters, announcing that he is determined to care for himself, and they all applaud and congratulate him and it's weird. It's presented as happy but there's no emotion. No emotion in this climax of a series that has so effectively evoked so much emotion, raw and powerful and real and relatable. It's not happy. It's not sad, either. It's just an absence of sadness. It's this orange tang safety in muted absence of loneliness or danger. I think because Shinji is given good conclusions for his problems (self-worth and love have to come from within, you need to allow yourself to care for yourself or you'll never believe completely that others can care for you) but he's not shown a good path to get there. What people tell Shinji gives him an understanding of what the goal is (happiness) but none of the tools to get him to happiness, something he has no real personal experience with, so the ending he arrives at isn't authentic. It's a false construct, like the otoge realty.

It's not a good ending but I think it wants there to be a good ending and the viewer to recognize when a 'good' ending isn't really good. It's a lot to think about. This concludes my report on the final episode of Neon Genesis Evangelion.

#neon genesis evangelion report

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nurseofren · 4 years

Text

Keeping Your Promise - Chapter 18

Read on AO3

Read chapter seventeen (NSFW)

Title: More Trouble

Words: 6600

Summary: Yeah, just add it to the list at this point.

Warnings: Mild descriptions of medical trauma

ST Rambles:I admit, my note last week was a bit ominous. But for good reason as I am the biggest blabbermouth when I'm excited/nervous/dreadful over something. And I can't explain how I am very much all of those things about this fic. I spent two days plotting the next few chapters and I had to stop a few times because I got overwhelmed. I think it's a combination of things I've had planned finally coming to fruition and the knowledge that I'm the one that has to write them.

Leaving you with a less chaotic message this week, but please please tell me what you think! I love hearing everyone's thoughts and theories about it all. I never imagined that we'd be here four months ago, but I'm so super stoked that we are.

[MASTERLIST]

The villagers stood in contained crowds, barricades of stormtroopers detaining them with weapons raised as they looked on in horror; behind them, their homes were set aflame and their resources run dry at the hands of the First Order, their livelihood decimated in the early hours of the morning. War was an ugly, retched thing, though it always appeared necessary, at least when it was presented by the media. As a nurse it was nearly intolerable to watch these people, see them as they held tight to their lives as Kylo Ren, the Commander of everything unfolding before you, drowned their world in chaos.

The taut skin of your knuckles, nearly bound to the frame of the Command Shuttle, thrummed in beat with your pulse as you peered into a reality you never imagined you’d bear witness to; of course you’d known your Master was a powerful, feared man, but you’d never seen him in action. He was outfitted in his robes again, a cowl draped around his helmet and hanging asymmetrically from his shoulders as he terrorized the village. The wind seemed to frame him with an additional aura of death, his mere presence commanding even the elements themselves. Looking at him, one eye glued to the potentiating terror just beyond the descended ramp, you empathized with the villagers, knowing he had no bounds, understanding he couldn’t recognize them to begin with.

The month since he’d stripped you of your free will had passed quickly, spending the first half cooped up with Mason, helping him catch up on patient cases; not that you felt any loyalty towards Ren, you knew you couldn’t tell Mason about the incident, leaving its memory to strangle you when there was nothing to fill the time. After the first two weeks, Mason had healed in time to attend his spin-off residency on the Finalizer, his absence leaving you with too much silence, too much spare time to overanalyze the last time you’d seen your Master.

It felt like he’d taken something from you, even as your autonomy had returned it felt defaced, an uncomfortable reminder of the control he’d stripped you of. What kept you up at night was trying to understand his reasons behind the act; there was too much between you and him for it to be a natural inclination on his part. It had been such a paradigm shift, one week he’d left you with a pair of his briefs, the next he was using your will to prove his point. It didn’t make sense, and that fact bothered you. What changed so drastically in the week you’d spent away from him? You weren’t ignorant that he could take what he wanted, but maybe you were naïve in thinking he wouldn’t take it from you. Foolishly, perhaps, you’d convinced yourself that – even for the shortest, most minuscule period of time – you’d meant something to him as he’d meant to you.

The thoughts bombarded your foggy head as your watch had pulled you from whatever distorted amount of sleep you’d obtained last night, the red face blaring into your puffy eyes less than thirty minutes ago. Its incessant chirping was accompanied by a cryptic message scrawling COMMAND SHUTTLE LEAVING. TEN MINUTES. in too-fast a cycle for four in the morning. This was the first instance you’d been called to work unexpectedly, the first time the watch had served any other purpose than to track you. It was an unwelcome reminder that, for the time being, you were still chained to the life of Kylo Ren.

As of late it seemed like you’d been yearning for the trial to start, exactly a week separating you from complete severance from your Master or even the First Order. That’s how you had to look at it, though, growing tired of wasting time worrying about something you couldn’t control, its date creeping ever closer as you fought to convince yourself everything would be okay. That was the farthest thing from the truth, you knew, taking into consideration you would soon either be dead or an unemployable bum being antagonized by an unhinged stormtrooper and exploited by a man who would never respect you. Truthfully, nothing was okay and nothing seemed like it would be okay any time soon or any time ever.

“I know where you come from, before you called yourself Kylo Ren,” an old man said, bringing you back to the scene at hand.

The man seemed docile, his only intention being that of speaking to the Commander, his demeanor calm even surrounded by chaos. But what he said was ludicrous; taking a moment to think about it, you realized you’d never thought about a time where Kylo Ren wasn’t anthropomorphized fear. There was a time before he headed the First Order’s troops, a time where he was younger and maybe even attainable. According to the old man, strangely enough, it seemed as if Kylo Ren didn’t exist during those times, but what did it mean? The sentence begged the question if Kylo Ren’s name was even more of a mask than the one he outwardly wore.

“The First Order rose from the dark side. You did not.” The gentleman was so assured in his tone, but how could he be? Who was he, and how could he know these things?

“I’ll show you the dark side.” The assertion in your Master’s voice shook you, your pulse elevating as you spied his hands coil into black wrath at his sides.

“You may try, but you cannot deny the truth that is your family.”

“You’re so right.”

The emblazoned shaft of the red sword lit instantaneously as the last word fell from Kylo’s tongue, the weapon slicing through the old man’s chest and leaving an orange stain of fatality burning away at his flesh. Before you could turn away, you saw him crumple to the ground, body lifeless as you caught view of his eyes; they were open, bright even, red glinting over his face and onto the still-wet surface of his sclera. Burying your face into the durasteel, catching your breath, you hid from the truth you grew closer to accepting every day: there was no redemption for a man who didn’t want it. The only thing Kylo Ren had shown a consistent desire for was power, and surely this was just another egregious show of how he continuously attained exactly that.

There were only a few stormtroopers scattered throughout the Command Shuttle, one swiveling his head towards you when you gasped in rejection, wishing you could erase the memory of the fading eyes before the one who owned them became cold. It didn’t matter if these people were supposedly enemies, they were people; innocent people who existed as no threat to the one jeopardizing their lives. The true punishment of being associated with Kylo Ren would never be the indignity or pain he caused you, but knowing and even seeing that which he wrought over others.

“What are you looking at?” you spit, the white-armored onlooker quickly flinching back to attention. The earlier mistrust you’d developed for the entire stormtrooper population had recently been replaced with distaste, an acrid film covering your tongue whenever one was within your vicinity. It was easier to be angry with all of them than to be in a constant state of fear, so whenever a moment presented itself, you tended towards confrontation instead of cowardness.

“Put him on board.” The modulated words spun you back towards the night, seeing two stormtroopers handling a different man, both his arms entangled into their grips.

He was rugged; a leather jacket covering his arms, a head full of deep browns curls framing his squared face. There was dirt covering his cheeks, a thin film at least, you assumed from being on Jakku for however long he had been. Everything about him screamed Resistance. Even so, much like the old man and the villagers, he was a person, and you knew what awaited him when the Command Shuttle landed on the Finalizer. A reluctant pang of protection constricted your heart as you watched him struggle against his detainees, his head flying back to catch one last glimpse at the village as they faded out of his view.

The man was led past you, your eyes catching his for a second too long, studying him before he was strapped into a holding seat, hydraulic cuffs hissing over his wrists, ankles, and abdomen. He seemed too unphased for the predicament he’d walked into, his face nearly amused, like this was typical for him. Looking at him you felt a need to watch over him, the ways of guardianship and advocacy that’d been instilled in you during school; though they were entirely misplaced, him being a prisoner of the First Order inciting a vague sense of dissonance, you couldn’t bring yourself to see him as a threat. There was too much kindness in his eyes, a sense of trustworthiness about him you couldn’t quite explain.

“Kill them all.” Another interruption, this time sending knives through your lungs.

It was too quick, the orders registered and implemented simultaneously before you had the thought to turn around. Instead, your head jolted into your shoulders at the sound of blasters firing, heart rampaging as the consequential screams echoed after them. The villagers’ shrieks continued, their pain tangible even without seeing them, the images of their earlier faces haunting you as you realized none of them would ever leave this dreadful night. Vomit rose in your throat, your legs barreling forward towards stability, coincidentally landing you in the seat next to the prisoner as you swallowed against your throat.

“Hey, watch it, alright? Keep your breakfast to yourself,” he leaned away from you as far as his restraints would allow.

“No, I’m good. I’m-,” you dry heaved over your knees, the screams fading into silence when your head came back up. Luckily, you hadn’t had time to eat said breakfast.

“Okay, yeah, that’s great. Just how I thought today would go.”

“In all fairness, if I had actually thrown up on you, would that have been the worst part of your day thus far?” you asked, raising your eyebrows at him.

He studied you, appraising, glimpsing the red embroidery and then forming your last name into a question. “First Order care provider, huh?” He read off your uniform. “Oh, Commander Ren’s care provider. Excuse me for the informality.” He was making jokes while detained by his enemies. It was impossible not to like him.

“Between you and me—” you peered around, noting the rising volume of boots approaching the ramp before looking back at him and whispering “—I don’t really enjoy the title either.”

The prisoner’s face broke into a broad smile, his eyes narrowing at your admission. “Well, I could offer you a new one. If you wanted.”

Incessant, angry heat bit at your cheeks, eyes blaring at him. “Oh, no. No, no. I just don’t like-,”

“Don’t like what? Your boss? Neither does anyone else.”

His audacity mixed with his dazzling expression inspired one of your own, cheeks rising at the thought of the entire galaxy pitted against Kylo Ren. “I don’t think I can argue with that fact.”

“I think we’re on the same side, kid.” He looked down at his hand and then back to you. “Poe Dameron. I’d offer you a handshake, but I’m a little tied up right now.”

“What makes you think I’d accept your hand?” He reminded you of Mason, his wit impeccable just the same, a giggle pitching your tone upwards.

He was about to speak before his eyes dropped and his face followed, your own head turning to learn the cause. With a smile still splintering over your face, Kylo stood at the threshold watching you, your heart sinking when you felt the unabashed show of happiness still tight over your cheeks. To be caught not even consorting, but laughing with the enemy? Not the best thing for you right now. Swallowing, you relaxed your face and nodded at your Commander, sitting with your back flat against the wall with forced posture as you watched him in your periphery.

Five more stormtroopers piled in behind him before he took another step, finally moving towards the control panel. The hatch ascended and the engines vibrated through the floor, a rising pitch ringing into the ship as it prepared to propel into the sky. Unthinkingly, you’d forgotten to strap in, but when you went to fumble for the belts, your arms couldn’t move. Scrambling, you fought against the invisible constraints, fearing the headache that would transpire should the ship take off before you could secure yourself.

The engines came to a peak, their tremors jolting through your entire body, and when the red-paned windshield fled into the stars, you clamped your eyes shut, preparing for the collision. After a share of time which seemed too generous, you popped one lid open, testing to see if you had just blacked out during the event. But you were completely fine, finding the Force was back to working for your advantage, even if that wasn’t its primary intention. From the corner of your eye you saw Dameron observing you, his face bearing the confusion you were containing.

“That was lucky,” he said, half grumbling to himself.

“Yeah, l-,”

“No talking.” Kylo bit off your words, acid seeping through the vocoder from the head of the ship.

The rest of the trip was silent, no person wanting to shatter the shallow patience of the pilot. Just before the ship landed in the Finalizer’s docking bay you stole one last look at Dameron, seeing his throat bob, watching as the hinge of his jaw twitched against tension. Maybe his earlier nonchalance was a coping mechanism, choosing only to accept a situation when it was necessary. It was strange how much you shared with someone you were supposed to hate, someone you should want to get punished. Against your better judgement you found yourself worrying for him, imagining whatever hell he would shortly be introduced to, knowing which devil would be delivering it.

With a slightly rocky landing the Command Shuttle docked, engines coming down as the ramp did. Clearing your throat, you caught his attention.

“Good luck,” you mouthed, face full of ill-timed pity, hoping the maroon shadows cast a veil of protection over your gesture.

He looked over you, mouth quirking in one corner, eyes scanning the ship before returning to yours. “Offer still stands,” he mouthed back, raising a brow.

Pointedly, you looked back at him, slowly and subtly shaking your head. A silent declination. Though running away with the Resistance seemed a nice alternative to what life currently offered, it wasn’t probable to believe you’d be successful in evading the entire First Order, let alone your Master. With a final scan over his features, you committed his name to memory, determined not to let his life be in vain if he was fated the same as the villagers.

“Take him to interrogation one. Standard procedures before I take over,” Kylo instructed, two stormtroopers grappling Dameron from his seat. He was gone before you had thought to move again, finding the restraints still present over your upper body.

When the last of the mission crew descended into the docking bay, you waited for your freedom, sure it would come at the expense of either your time or your patience. Kylo stalked towards you, purpose in each stride, leaning against the wall from your seat, leathered fury flexing over his robes. The cowl created a hood over his helmet, the chrome bars of the visor barely glinting in the poorly lit ship.

“Do you have a death wish?” The question was born through hidden gnashed teeth.

These were the first words he’d directed solely at you since that day, his audacity no longer shocking, only aggravating. “Depends on the day at this point, I guess.”

“The First Order tends to be less lenient when it comes to treason than they are with larceny.”

“Noted.”

“What happened to getting your license back?”

“I realized it doesn’t matter what I want. You made that exceptionally clear.”

He shifted in his stance, your apathetic candor catalyzing his irritation. There was no other way to interact with him anymore; if he would never acknowledge or respect you as an autonomous being who held her own thoughts and made her own decisions, what could you do other than placate him? You were numb, acting like it at least. Giving him a reaction would only allow him a sense of gratification.

“Allow me to make one more thing clear,” he said, the Force leaving your chest before his hand encircled your wrist and guided you away from the wall.

With no further explanation he led you into the docking bay, the freezing air biting at you past the threshold. Your wrist was freed once you were twenty paces from the Command Shuttle, Kylo’s strides unrelenting as you passed through crowds of workers at a half-jogged speed to keep up with him. It was pointless to disobey him, to not follow him; there was no challenging someone who didn’t fight fair. However reluctantly, you were working on accepting that fact, too.

Through unfamiliar halls and a few flights of mesh stairs you looked out at the bustling expanse of the Finalizer, taking in the hoards of organized stormtroopers, a vague sense of panic seemingly quickening every workers’ steps. The morning had already begun in emergency, though it seemed it wasn’t going to settle down any time soon. Today felt different, like it was important, like you weren’t supposed to forget it. However strange it seemed, the day had barely started and yet you found yourself dreading what it had in store.

After turning down a final indiscriminate hall, Kylo initiated a door which stood directly parallel to a second, the two rooms seemingly intended for each other. Inside the threshold was a singular metal desk with a matching chair, every wall solid and soundproofed except one. To your right was a mounted set up of four monitors, screens illuminated with the images of camera footage; taking a closer look, you recognized the main subject, strapped into an upright position against a flat adjustable table outfitted with a plethora of mechanics you could only assume were intended for harm. Following in after Kylo, your heart fell as you saw the prisoner’s face had already been marked with injury. It was subtle, but whatever light he’d held in his eyes when you’d met him had left, face solid and tight as he stared across from him. Following the direction of his glare, you looked at a second screen, a new angle offering insight into the subject of his hostility. A black armored soldier stood across from him, a table of various instruments to his right. You looked between the two men as each one settled into their situation, both ignorant to your digital presence.

“Why are we here, Kylo?” It was rhetorical, tone exhausted with his games as you turned away from the screens.

“I’m showing you what you’ve obviously forgotten, what I allowed you to forget.” He looked down at you, hand reaching to turn you back to the screen.

Shifting away from him, his fingers only grazed your shoulder. “No, this is not in my job description. If you have anything physically ailing you, then fine, I’ll stay, but I’m not putting up with this anymore.”

“Your objections only prove me right. You need to be reminded that-,”

“Alright, this is getting old. If you want to talk, let’s talk. But I’m not addressing you with that helmet on.”

“Officer,” he growled, “this isn’t your ch-,”

“I can’t understand you over that ridiculous scarf. Just give me that last part again, hm?” Maybe it wasn’t smart, but he needed a reminder of his own: you weren’t taking his shit anymore.

His fist collided with the table, the monitors rattling against their fasteners. “I don’t want to-,”

“What? You don’t want to hurt me? You don’t want to force me to do it? That’s a change of pace, isn’t it?”

Kylo met you through the mask, the slight sound of his gloved thumbs rubbing over his knuckles filling the silence. His chest fell as his arms rose, fingers disengaging the muzzle before it hissed away from him and he slid the cowl down to his back. When he pulled the apparatus from his head, you took the opportunity to search him for that empty person you’d met the last time you’d seen his eyes. The bright glow of the screen lit half his face, casting a dim shadow across the other as he shook his hair free from the helmet’s confines. There was a veil of confusion in his expression, like he couldn’t accept your outburst or understand why you’d say such things.

The helmet met the table in a loud clang, unnecessary force behind the placement. “I never wanted to do those things,” your last name was stale from his mouth, corporate in its annunciation.

“I really don’t get it. If you don’t want to, then why? I’ve considered every possibility for the last month and I can’t see why you’d ever do that to me,” you said, fingers wrapping around the top rail of the chair.

“I’d been too lenient with you. You’d forgotten your place.” There was no conviction in his tone, almost like he was reciting a script.

“That’s such bullshit! And you know it is, too.”

“It’s inconsequential if you don’t want to accept my explanation.”

“Do you even accept your explanation?” In your periphery you noted movement on the screen. “Seriously, you knew you didn’t have to do that, but you still did. I need to know why.”

“I couldn’t allow a subordinate to speak to me like you did. It was inappropriate.”

“Are you- subordinate? Is there someone telling you these things? Like, if I looked in your ear would there be a speaker?” This was not who he was, not in the slightest.

“Contrary to what you may believe, officer, I can form my own thoughts.”

“But these aren’t yours! What the hell happened? I don’t know this—” you gestured over his frame, face twisted with disbelief “—this person.”

“You don’t know me. Good to see we agree on one thing.”

He was being exceedingly dramatic today. “That’s not what I said. I do know you, but whoever you’ve been since that day… I hate it.”

“Please,” he said, taking a step towards you, “tell me who I’ve been recently.”

You mirrored him, stepping from behind the chair, seeing his eyes darken as you did. “In short? An ass who treats me like an object he can throw around whenever he wants.”

Beside you came a shriek, both echoed through the wall and crystal clear through the monitors. The flinch it inspired stole a portion of power in your admission, your head shunning the screens completely as to not see the cause of the terror. It was too familiar to the sounds Mason had let out, the memory flashing as Dameron came down from his pain with heavy, fast breaths. It sounded like another scream was brewing, but just before it came to fruition the screens cut out, the audio following simultaneously. The monitors settled into a red display of the First Order’s emblem, its cast blaring over your eyes the same as Kylo’s.

He stared at you and then down at the table, throat bobbing as you realized he’d turned them off purposely. He cleared his throat. “And that’s not who I usually am?”

“Before now, my free will had remained in-tact when I was with you. So, no. That’s not who you are.” You looked away from him, chewing your cheek.

A strong hand ran through his hair, the other firm against the table, back hunched down as he looked over at you, your eyes peeking over at his as you felt him scanning over your face. “How are you so sure of that fact?”

Shutting your eyes, you ground your teeth together, hands coiling over the sharp metal ridge of the desk. “Do you actually want to know, or is this just’,”

“I want to know.” The interruption prompted your eyes back to his, genuine attention and almost concern etched into his expression.

“Fine,” you breathed, pushing off of the desk to cross your arms and face him. He fixed his posture as you did, hands open at his sides. “I could get over the drowning, and I didn’t protest the blood – I actually kind of liked it, but no matter that fact –” you shook your head “—everything else I could move on from. This, stripping me of choice when all I wanted to do was understand why you’d gone to such lengths to protect me? I truly don’t know how I can move on from that, or how I can forgive it.”

“Forgive it,” he echoed introspectively, taking one more step closer.

“I know that you couldn’t care less if I do or not, but how can I respect myself if I just accept it when I know I don’t have to?”

Not leaving your eyes, he spun the chair and walked around it before taking a seat and leaning forward onto his elbows. Still you were only a few inches taller than him as he sat, his head angled up to yours just slightly while he kept steady in his gaze. He chewed his tongue for a moment, looking at you with concentration, considering his next move. “I can’t change what I did to your friend,” he said, the first time he hadn’t referred to Mason as the physician. “I can’t rationalize allowing you back into general practice, because-,”

“Are you kidding me, I-,”

“Because,” he said, voice rising with his brow, “there are too many factors to consider when taking the surveillance detail into account.” The effort he was making to actually explain himself was obvious in his voice, the words leaving unsteadily as he looked over your face.

“Half of those factors would disappear if you would trust that I’m professionally competent.”

His head tilted and his eyes narrowed, appearing like he didn’t understand you, rejecting your words like they were frivolous in nature. “Why would I think anything other than that?”

“Some of the things you said. Mainly being you can’t mess up and how’d you get here in the first place. It’s obvious you don’t think I know what I’m doing.” A slight warmth came over the helices of your ears, just the thought of his demeanor that day was enough to fluster you.

He sat back in the chair, face splayed into earnest. “I understand you don’t think it’s protection, but knowing what I do, I’ve seen how vindictive the Board can be. They twist things to fit their agenda. When I looked through your file I did actually make sure you knew your stuff.”

Looking at him, seeing how stern his face was, how much his body language had shifted since you’d entered the small observance room, you knew he was being honest. “Okay, that’s good, I guess. But how does that have anything to do with the Board and your protection?” Air quotes framed the last word, your arms returning to your sides after the gesture.

“I can say you’re the best nurse throughout every system there is”—his eyes went wide—“but if the Board has a set verdict in mind, it won’t matter. They’ll look at every meticulous task you’ve conducted between the incident and the trial and they’ll dissect it until it turns into something they can accuse you of.” Even in the red haze of the room you could see the blood bite at his cheeks. It appeared he did actually believe he was protecting you.

Shaking your head, you rolled your eyes and hiccuped out a breathy laugh, looking down at him with incredulous eyes. “All you had to do was tell me that instead of…” you avoided mentioning the act as it sickened you to even think about it.

He swallowed and dipped his head away from you momentarily, his face meeting yours with something you could only name as guilt when he returned; however vague it was, it was still set in his eyes, even in the way his mouth set slightly lower. “Don’t forgive me.”

It almost made you trip backwards how open the request was. Not even the fact that he didn’t want forgiveness, but the knowledge that he understood there was forgiveness to be granted at all. Mindlessly you took a step forward, your shoe catching on the tip of his boot before inching your step back. This was something you hadn’t considered; the idea that you didn’t have to move on from it, that you didn’t have to accept his actions or swallow back the hurt they’d caused. You could allow yourself the grace and time to heal without disregarding yourself or your beliefs. It made your heart skip, an invisible wall collapsing as if he’d said the magic words.

“I… don’t think I will.” There was apprehension in the admission, still not fully sure how to look at him, conflicted by how you wanted to reach out to him.

His face didn’t move, guarding you from any reaction he might’ve had. “You were right earlier.”

“Can you be more specific?”

He shook his head and stifled a smirk, his own hands awkwardly reaching out over his knees like he, too, wanted to feel you. “Someone was in my ear.”

Shifting your stance just slightly, his knees met your thighs and your balance stuttered, his hands steadying you at your sides; quickly after your equilibrium returned, though, they were gone as fast as they’d come. An incessant ache stupefied you as it resonated both in your chest and between your legs. It was unsettling how easily you could switch between wanting to rid this man from your life and wanting this man to quell your need for him. Maybe against your better judgement, you allowed yourself a small indulgence.

Trailing the tips of your fingers along his hairline, you pushed them over his scalp, thumbs rubbing into his temples before you leaned down into his neck and pressed your lips against the warm tip of his ear. With his throat so close, you heard him swallow, felt the rise in his temperature as his body heat twisted into yours, his hands still keeping to his own legs. Taking a minute, you pressed your nose into his hair, smelling him as you leaned away and traced the tip against his jaw before finding his eyes once more.

“I mean, I couldn’t see anyone in there, so.” You teased him as your face warmed, thankful for the screens’ red camouflage, your fingers still slightly holding his jaw.

His lips parted as something of a faint smile tried to form, a small gust of amusement blowing over your wrists and in turn sending shivers down the backs of your legs. You wanted more of him, still. He was here, seemingly for the taking for however long time would permit at the moment, and you wanted him. After a month of spitting silent curses over him, searching for an explanation you didn’t think would come, you found yourself overtaken with a yearning you’d never experienced, like your skin was pulling you into him. Basking in this feeling – whether it was freedom or assuredness or desire, or all three – you placed one arm around his shoulders and sat your legs perpendicular over his own, fingers tugging at the cowl around his neck.

“Where did this come from?” You traced the edge of the article while your knuckles grazed his throat, your mouth twisting into a telling smirk.

Finally he took a hand and coiled it around the back of your neck, his gaze attracting yours as electricity buzzed beneath his hand. “I don’t know, I just grabbed it before leaving earlier.” His other hand came up to your cheek, its gloved warmth only adding to your need.

He didn’t initiate it, his lips only meeting yours when you leaned into him, your other hand ravishing into his hair for stability. It was a slow, building encounter, his mouth melting into yours as you breathed against his cheek, angling your head into his in an effort to keep him as close as possible. Below you, you felt him growing harder, cunt pulsing at the knowledge as a slight moan sank into his mouth. Shifting on top of him, you held his face as you worked to straddle him, legs framing against his hips as his hands held both your hip and your hair.

“I’ve missed you,” you said while taking a breath, feeling a sense of familiarity with him after so long, finding the man you’d slept next to, remembering the way he’d held you.

He grunted before gifting you the longest, deepest, nearly skin-vibrating kiss, his hands landing to grip over the tops of your thighs before he pulled away and looked at you. In his eyes lied an endless amount of reciprocation, an abyss of amber you’d never be able to forget as it consumed you in the carmine room. “You cause more trouble than you know.” He was fond in tone, eyes lazily moving between your own.

“I think you forget yourself, Commander.” It felt silly to think you held even some semblance of power over him as he did you.

He lifted your left wrist and checked the time on your watch. It was five, now, your interrogation-turned-tryst lasting nearly thirty minutes. He looked back at you, thumb tracing your cheekbone. “When I’m done, I want to come home to you,” he hummed, voice nearly too low to register, “naked in my bed, understood?”

Flames took residence over your entire face, cheeks burning at his bluntness. Stifling a giggle, you leaned into him once more and nuzzled into his nose before brushing your lips against his. “Understood.”

As he stood, he kept his lips on yours, your feet meeting the ground as he held your hips. You were reluctant in breaking away from him, standing on your tippy toes before he was too far out of reach. Sometimes it was unfair how much power he had just in his height. He turned to leave but you needed to get something clear.

“Kylo,” you blurted out, waiting for him to turn back around. He looked at you with intent, watching you chew your cheek. “This doesn’t fix everything.”

He considered you, peering at your nervous face in the fiery cast. “Understood.”

Quickly, he gathered his helmet and placed it back over his head, making a show of returning the cowl to its original state before exiting the room completely. Taking a breath, you ran your hands through your hair, eyes squinting as the screens returned to their live cast of the prisoner, his face now spattered with a red that hadn’t been there before. A few minutes passed as you watched him, face sweaty and tired, guilt filling you as you regarded the inevitable when the door hissed open to the expansive frame of your Master.

“I had no idea we had the best pilot in the Resistance on board,” Kylo said, Dameron leaning forward to acknowledge him. “Comfortable?”

“Such an ass,” you whispered to yourself, shaking your head before leaving the room, evading the sight of another torture.

You backtracked your way through the halls, only getting lost once as you made your way to your quarters. Home to you, however unthinkingly he’d phrased it the words still sang in your veins while you trekked towards the Elite lobby. The Finalizer was bustling with an influx of workers you’d never seen, bodies rushing past each other, every one tripping over the next as they fought towards their own tasks. Though still crowded, the lobby offered more clarity in the faces running through it, allowing you to easily spot the pallor plaguing Talia’s face across the expanse.

“Talia?” You said, not knowing if she could hear you. When she continued to make her way through the room, her gait unsteady in her wake, you shouted after her. “Talia! Hey!”

Her face turned towards yours, shocking you in its unrecognizable shade of pale green. She looked like she could keel over any second. Pushing past crowds of people, you met her as fast as you could, your hands stabilizing her shoulders when you did. “Hey, hey are you alright?”

She couldn’t focus on you, her eyes spinning, barely settling on one solid place for more than a second. Following her focus with your face you eventually caught her attention, her lips dry and pale. “Hey, Harper, c’mon. Sit down, okay? I’m gonna help you.” She barely nodded in response, diaphoresis obvious over her colorless face as you lowered her to the ground.

“Can you tell me your name?”

She patted at the floor, legs trying to stand back up. “I need to see Armitage,” she murmured as you pulled her back down.

“General Hux? Talia, do you know where you are?”

“I need, I have to… I have to go.”

She had to be dehydrated at the least, but this seemed much more intensive, almost like a metabolic imbalance if you had to guess. “Talia, hey, listen to me. I’m gonna get some help, alright?” You kept your hands coiled into her shoulders as you screamed for assistance, multitudes of faces turning to you, more jumping away than running to help. An older worker came to Talia’s right side. To your surprise, he whipped out a penlight. Upon further examination, you recognized him from the night it all went wrong. He was the physician who’d switched spots with you so you could run for the blood.

“How long has she been like this?” He asked, tilting her head back and feeling her pulses.

“I spotted her not even two minutes ago, she was pale and diaphoretic. She’s disoriented and insists on seeing General Hux.”

“Hux, yes I need to see H-,”

Talia’s eyes rolled into the back of her head before the tremors began, drool slipping over her bottom lip before you could get her completely on her side. Keeping your hand under her face to protect her from concussing herself you watched as vomit hiccuped onto the reflective tiles. The physician spoke into his pager, requesting a transport team and a stat order for phenytoin upon arrival and a standing order for maintenance fluids upon regulation. The crowd buzzed, more people joining the scene and forming a semicircle to view your friend’s trauma.

When a hand met your shoulder you felt a surge of relief, locking eyes with the physician to inform him to keep his hand under her head. When you stood, you looked up to find two red armored guardsman standing in front of you. These were Snoke’s men, you’d recognized their uniforms from the stories you’d heard. Not even ten seconds after crawling up from the floor were your hands twisted behind your back and fixed into handcuffs.

“What the hell? I can’t leave her!” The scream tore over your larynx, your arms attempting to break free of their hold. “Let me go!”

Two hands, one from either of the Praetorian guards, took residence atop each handcuff, their other grips coming over your shoulders to detain you further. They began to lead you away from the scene, your head contorting back to steal a last glance at your seizing colleague, a fleeting sense of consolation emerging at the sight of a uniformed team of medical professionals blocking her from your view.

“Tell me what this is about!” Your face burned with fury, feet dragging below you as they propelled you towards their destination.

“The Supreme Leader commands your presence.”

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren smut #ao3 #fanfic #st kyp

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