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himbodjarin · 3 years

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LUNAR; CH8

18+ ONLY Series Content: Graphic descriptions of gore and smut. Din Djarin/Third Person POV. Chapter Word Count: 8263 (im sorry) Pairing: Din Djarin/F!Reader - no use “y/n”

The Mandalorian is a driven warrior — traversing the galaxy in search of the ancient Jedi — but everyone has their weaknesses, and he’s no different. The Bounty Hunter possessed three in fact. One he’s discovered—The Child. The remaining two, though, he wasn’t aware of their existence. At least, not until he meets a valorous Sharpshooter underneath a moonless night sky; then he’s plummeting down a dark mission of self-discovery, questioning his morals and his Creed while the moon taunts him, the phases of the satellite corresponding to his personal revelations. However, the Girl has a dark past that may come to inflict hardships on the Mandalorian and the Child; it's up to the Bounty Hunter to decide her fate.

Read on AO3 / Series Masterlist

CHAPTER EIGHT: BLUE MILK PANCAKES

Mando still can’t grasp it actually happened—that he’d been so fortunate to experience such a jaw-dropping night with the Girl, with no ulterior motives no less. Back in his youth, when he was naive and desperate, it wasn’t exactly infrequent for a fling to take advantage of him; spend a quick few minutes so that one may eliminate him in his distraction or gain intel on private matters. The Girl didn’t try that—didn’t want that. She sought to provide him with sweet relief and nothing more, not even her own relief.

He felt so fucking worshipped.

Mando is the first of them to wake in the early rise of the sun. He sits there for a moment, savouring the gleaming rays shining through the viewport to warm his beskar and, consequently, his rigid body underneath. The Crest is coated in a layer of ice, corroding the durasteel beneath and, accompanied by the packed snow resting atop, it’s refrigerating the inside of the spacecraft. Mando slips on the discarded glove from overnight—a warmth surfacing his cheeks upon the reminder of last night’s events—and supplies friction to either hand in the prospect it’ll produce warmth. It’s wishful thinking.

Granting him the opportunity to adjust to his surroundings, Mando stretches in his chair and virtually moans at the pulsations ranging through his limbs. It starts at his shoulders and travels through his core, nudging against the wound on his back and easing the tension out of his muscles, and reaches to the bottom of his toes which practically curl with delight.

Mando considers removing the helmet to rub his eyes—the crust in the corners a botheration—lift it a tad in the least, but he doesn’t get the chance. The Child coos beside him, his little arms reaching up for assistance.

“How did you get up here?” he asks, placing him on his knees. The Child doesn’t answer—why would he—and concentrates on balancing across the joints to tinker with deactivated buttons of the nav controls. “Where to, kid?” Mando scans the system’s database for a paragon planet to hunker down for a few days; spend some time with the kid—and the Girl, of course—before being ripped away from the semi-domestic life and continue on his unwritten path of planet-hopping.

There’s a planet not too far; small population, plenty of wilderness for the kid to explore, and there’s not much traffic that passes through. It’s good, perfect almost, and Mando is hesitant to accept the temptation. The Child’s head rotates to look at his guardian, his large green ears twitching curiously. He sighs and sets the coordinates for the planet despite his better judgement. It’s too fortunate; the last ‘safe’ planet they visited ended up in him protecting an entire village and the kid almost being killed. Although, he’s made a trustworthy ally who’ll assist if something were to go down. He glances behind him at the Girl, raking his brown eyes across her contorted body in the seat.

“Hang on, kid.” Mando lifts himself out of the pilot chair, leaving behind a monitoring toddler in his place, and kneels beside the Girl in the passengers. She’s sleeping peacefully and he doesn’t disturb her, despite the positioning she’s managed to get herself into. It’s unpleasant on his eyes and it couldn’t be comfortable. With a tremble in his back muscles, he reaches behind his neck and peels the cloak from his armour to drape it across her figure, relying on it to provide at least a small portion of warmth to her. She clasps the garment slightly and a smile surfaces his lips, his leathers coming up to brush a stroke across her cheek faintly—only lasting a second or two before detaching from her like an uncooperative magnet. Once she’s finally soothed back into position, Mando retrieves the safety belt from beside her and secures it across her waist before grudgingly tearing away from the Girl. “Looks like you’re with me.”

The Child squeals with enjoyment as the Mandalorian returns to his seat.

“Shh,” he instructs, glancing back to see the Girl motionless. He sighs with relief.

Mando joins the buckle’s latches together and wraps an arm around the Child to secure him against himself. The thrusters wake with a roar and quake the craft’s hull, the ion accelerator chamber thawing the thrusters nozzles of their icy barricade—shit, the ice. It’ll pose a threat, a handicap at the minimum if it doesn’t defrost soon enough. He cringes as the Crest whines against the glacier's dominance on his landing gear, but with the newly-maintenance thrusters, it’s no match against the craft. It rips from the ice and retracts to the hull’s underbelly, allowing Mando to manipulate the ship through the sky and out of the atmosphere; slabs of ice and snow descend to the ground beneath them.

The feeble bumpiness fades into a smooth flight and Mando activates the autopilot controls. “Not so bad, huh?” He disconnects the buckle from his belt and slips out of the chair, letting the Child sit in the warm leather. “Don’t go touching things—and don’t wake her up,” he quickly adds, noting the Child’s inquisitive staring as though he hadn’t genuinely noticed her earlier.

Mando sighs and hopes he’ll listen to his request just this once.

The Crest’s hold had been cleaned, just as the Girl promised to do, hardly even a speck of dust surfaced the floor. She’d been busy—and he had just been preoccupied with himself. Mando sighs to himself and browses through his reserved clothing. It mostly consists of bunking apparel—a couple of loose shirts and favourable pants—that he hadn’t had the opportunity to put to use since he fostered the Child. He’s expected—required to remain on the defensive at all times with the Guild breathing down his neck.

He sorts through the articles and grabs the spare flight suit, his only other. It would be ideal to purchase another, especially now with this one having been ripped, but it wasn’t a necessity presently. The fabric in his hands smells of dirt and grime, residue from the lake he attempted to clean it in all those weeks ago, but it’s better than his current—tattered, bloody, sweaty, and cum-stained. What a combination.

Perhaps he should invest in a refresher for his Crest. That way he wouldn’t be hunched over in the dark corners of the hold, stripping the beskar steel from his body for anybody to stumble across. It didn’t provide much assurance being within eyeshot of the cockpit ladder and with the lack of places to conceal himself, his hurried movements advanced. Then again the sheer thought of the Girl seeing him like this—and joining him—isn’t unpleasant; it would make the situation a whole lot less embarrassing.

He peels the last of his beskar from his body and stacks it against the wall, reorienting himself to slip out of his boots. It’s been a while since he last stood without any armour, excluding the helmet, and it feels refreshing in a way. But it doesn’t feel right.

Mando wasted no time in replacing the flight suit, smoothing the fabric out with his gloves and reapplying the ensemble of beskar; each patch of steel fitting snugly where it belongs. It’s slightly more bearable, not having to feel his own mess rubbing against him on the inside of the fabric, and he shoves the dirty flight suit in replace of the clean. He’ll get around to washing it when he has the time—or burn it by virtue of the rip across the arm.

Speaking of arms, the bacta patch on his bicep had aided the wound significantly and within the next day or two, it should be healed. The lesion on his back was a different story. It’s still sore, somewhat better with a night’s rest, but it’ll be a while before he’s out there firing blasters with that same authority. It could cause jeopardy if he’s not cautious.

The Razor Crest abruptly rumbles and falls into a fit of tremors, hurling the Mandalorian against the stationary carbonite pods with fury. “Shit,” he growls and grips his bicep, pleading he won’t bleed through the fresh clothes so soon. It pulses again and the engines’ whining travels through the ventilation, discharging a high-pitched shriek followed by a low hum of a whistle.

“Man-fuck, Mando!” the Girl beckons from upstairs. Mando is quick on his feet up the ladder, clinging desperately to the rungs upon another spasm. “I was sleeping a-and the kid…” She doesn’t need to finish for him to understand, for the Child is sitting underneath the nav panel with colourful cords in his hands; wire coverings peeled away to expose the electricity hazards sparking in his fists.

“Kid, no!” Mando scolds and snatches the cables from his stubborn claws. He babbles a complaint to his guardian as he’s being relocated far away from the electricity. He’s completely dismantled it—Mando will need to implement an entirely new wiring system for the navigation controls alone; a job he’s not suited for. He turns to the Girl for support.

“Don’t look at me,” she raises her hands defensively, “I only know bits and pieces.”

Innocently burbling besides the Mandalorian, the Child watches as leather gloves track across the navigation controls urgently. He’s unbothered by the predicament they’re in—just glad that his guardian had returned to the cockpit’s cabin, it appears. Mando groans in annoyance, fumbling with the nav and fighting against it’s constant glitching. “We’re in luck. There’s a planet on the way. Tatooine. Someone can help us there.”

“Yeah. Heard of it,” she mutters, regrettably, and he wonders what that is all about but it can wait. It wasn’t the time to sweat over the small details. “We’re not going to crash, are we?”

He contemplates, glancing over the system’s diagnosis and dismisses the electrical yammering it erupts. “Shouldn't—there’ll just be a lot of turbulence.”

That there is—turbulence and a great deal of it. There’s too much to maintain an uncoiled stomach throughout the remainder of the short flight and they’re both surprised when they’re successful in their landing, especially without the contents of their stomach having been dumped over themselves. Peli Motto—an innovative mechanic but a bit too communicatory for the Mandalorian’s preference—stands in her hangar with two greasy hands on her hips, eyes squinting through the viewport to gaze up at Mando. Better have my credits ready to go this time, he can already hear her say and he sighs. Credits he did have, but they weren’t exactly his, and there wasn’t much to spare.

“I’ll see to her,” Mando announces and retrieves the Child, “would you care to join?”

The Girl seems hesitant and peers out the viewport curiously. “Do you trust her?”

Mando takes another glance outside. Peli’s droids are nearing his ship to begin operations but with one stern look from the woman, they back away from the craft. “I do.”

The Girl sighs and peels herself from her seat, fiddling with the cloak that had been laid across her body earlier. “This, uh-”

“Clip it on for me,” he instructs and turns, waiting for familiar hands to run across his shoulders. It takes a moment and he considers retrieving it himself, but he’s patient and it pays off—her fingers playing with the neck covering to manipulate the cloak into place, her digits stroking against the back of his neck underneath all the thick fabric. It’s therapeutic somehow or other. He doesn’t quite understand it himself, but feeling the Girl’s pressure against him relaxes him; eases his eyes closed until all he wants to do is sleep, in her arms preferably and with his head on her chest—his head, not his helmet. Mando wants to press his ear against her flesh and listen to her heartbeat, her breathing, but most of all he just wants to be touched and to touch another.

The Girl smoothes her hands out across the cloak, running her palm down his back and ending just before it reaches the curve at the bottom. “There you go.” She smiles. Fuck, her smile. It makes him want to say something stupid, something embarrassing just to get the same reaction out of her; he wants to be the cause of that smile on her face. She adds, “Thank you.”

Mando twists to face her again, his head tilting. “What for?”

“Buckling me up and, uh, giving me the cloak,” she confesses, a timid hue of pink on her cheeks—she was blushing. “You could have given it to the kid or just kept it yourself, but… you didn’t. So, thank you.”

He swallows and reaches his hand up—for what, he doesn’t know. It’s not until his digits touch the soft padding of her cheek that he notices he’s making a move, his strokes transforming into uncertain shakes. The Girl’s blush deepens at the contact and she places her hand atop his, giving a quick squeeze of reassurance.

With that, his head is back to sorting through indecent thoughts and actions—but none are related to those they had been previously; they’re not obscene nor lustful. It’s his Creed that they’re unethical towards. He imagines the Girl reaching for his helmet, her slender fingers brushing against his chin as she does so, and lifts the steel to unmask the face that’s been sealed away for a long, long time. If she tried to do it right here, right now, he’s not positive whether he would stop her.

“We shouldn’t keep her waiting, it’ll be rude.”

She can wait, is what he wants to say, instead, he murmurs a simple, “Right.”

The Child appears satisfied in Peli’s arms, a large smile on his face as he glares up at the Mandalorian ahead of him. He’s receiving every ounce of attention he can muster out of the woman. “You telling me this little one did all that? Maybe if you gave him a little more attention he wouldn’t be tearing out your cables!”

“What do you mean?” Mando ponders. She runs a finger across the kid’s batwing ears and gestures behind him in the distance where the Girl preoccupies herself tending to their blasters. “What are you getting at?”

“Oh, come on! Do I have to spell it out for you? Are you that oblivious?” She sighs and soothes the Child, “You’ve found yourself another lifeform to harbour—probably spending an awful lot of time with her, aren’t ya?”

He’s not oblivious, not in the slightest; he’s just trying to avoid coming to terms with the thoughts in his head. However, he hadn’t noticed his lack of bonding with the Child and he mentally scolds himself. Of course, the kid wants attention, all kids do, and he’s probably becoming rather frustrated at the inadvertent neglect as a by-product of Mando’s fantasies.

“I ain’t saying ya shouldn’t indulge a little,” Peli chuckles and wags her hairless eyebrows at the visor, “I don’t blame ya for that. It must be hard adapting to having a girl like that on board your ship.”

Mando quietly sighs under his helmet but a blush lines his cheeks nonetheless. He’s relieved she can’t see it. He grumbles, “Get to the point.”

“Point is, you can’t ignore a child like that,” she explains, “he’s an impish little critter—smart, too. It wouldn’t surprise me if he did that on purpose to get your attention.”

“He’s costing me a lot of credits for attention.” Black-brown eyes observe the looming figure of beskar and Mando softens slightly. Peli watches with interest and returns the toddler to his arms. “The Girl-”

“She’ll be fine,” she assures, “if she wants to help, I’ll be sure to give her a real workout—don’t worry she won’t be too drained.”

The Mandalorian commits a final leer at the mechanic, enough to cause her to pull her lips tight into a smirk, and he returns to the Girl’s side to exchange his goodbyes, “I’m going to head into town and see if there are any jobs available.”

The Girl raises an eyebrow in question and pauses polishing the blasters, “I’m not coming with you?”

Does she want to come with him? The vocoder emits a hum of thought but ultimately he knows she should stay behind this time, “Peli reckons I should spend time with the kid. Shouldn’t take too long—I’ll just head in and grab the kid a meal, look around for intel… I’ll be back before it’s dark.”

She nods, understanding. “I’ll—just wait here then.”

Mando reciprocates her nod and hesitantly steps back, but the Girl’s fingers loop through his belt and draws him in close to her once again. He steadies himself with a hand on the dip of her waist, digits unconsciously poking into the flesh deeper, and he angles the helmet to her eye level in disarray.

The familiar weight of his blaster slips into position against his thigh but he doesn’t tear his eyes away to look, he doesn’t want to move at all. “Might need it,” she explains, her tone hushed, “it’s good to go.” She lightly taps the blaster with her free hand and he stiffens when her palm comes to rest atop it, the tips of her fingers brushing against the outside of his thigh.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” Her lips curl into a cunning grin and she tries to hide it by lifting herself onto her toes and breathing through the fabric surrounding his neck. Mando’s muscles flex involuntarily and the hand on her hip slinks a path to the curve of her back, where he fists a bundle of poncho fabric in his leathers. She whispers, “How’s your back feeling?”

“It’s - it’s better.”

She exhales softly and he swears he can feel it through the cloth, warming his jugular with her gleaming words, “So, you won’t be needing my help tonight?” Mando groans as she weakly pats the lesion deep underneath his cloak—it doesn’t hurt, more or less stings like a Droch crawling through his skin and draining his energy, but that was the Girl’s disposition more so than the wound’s sensitivity.

“Well,” Mando clears his throat and steps closer—if that’s even possible—so his lower-half is pressing against her waist, evoking a hitch of his own breath from the contact. She’s so soft against him. “I might need a hand…”

She chuckles into his neck, sending the vibrations from her throat into his and it makes a beeline to his heart. It vortexes around the organ, a current so strong it’d be fatal to terminate the stream. Not that he wanted to stop it. It’s such a pleasant feeling, the phantoms of sunshine-esque tendrils applying a pacifying pressure that feels like that of an embrace; warm hands clasping his heart and delivering delicate kisses across the muscle. He can almost sense the cushioning of lips against the pulsing organ.

“Ya know, I’ve got more than just hands.”

“Fuck,” he whispers, practically drooling at the mere suggestion—he’d be so sluggish to drag it out as long as possible, every single touch of his deliberate to commit all her curves, bumps, even bruises, to memory. Store it away for a gloomy day, like a breach in the clouds; sunbeams breaking through the overcast and introducing a warmth like none other.

Mando cranes his neck to the side slightly and she takes the invite to burrow deeper. The blood in his neck is hot and the air in his helmet sultry. He wants to do nothing but drag her back to the ship and lock themselves away for the remainder of the day, but the irritated child on his hip is starting to get antsy. Mando gasps, “Need to - to take the kid out.”

She hums her sympathy against his neck, “Take your time. I’ll be here.”

Well, time was indeed taken, or however the saying goes.

The Mandalorian had been forced into conversations all day courtesy of the Child; he just couldn’t seem to stop touching things or feeding on display products of each stall they’d pass. Mando’s entire vocabulary had been decreased to continuous sorry’s and kid, no! It doesn’t just end there. The Child was inquisitive of all his surroundings, particularly places Mando couldn’t fit himself—it made for some awkward dialogue between him and the kiosk attendants when he’d be on his hands and knees rummaging around for a loose alien baby.

“I’m not stealing!” He’d reassure but it’d have the opposite effect and turn heads, people eyeing him with curiosity; a Mandalorian, like that in folklore, frantically chasing a little green toddler with something half-alive dangling from its mouth. He’s made a fool out of himself enough for a day. The Child, on the other hand, is still persistent—giving him somewhat of the silent treatment until Mando bargains a promise of food.

The Child attentively watches his food in the arms of the server, streaks of steam and a tender fragrance wafting in his direction as it settles onto the table ahead. “Thank you,” Mando nods and leans back in his seat, unequipping a small bag of leftover credits he could spare for the day and sliding it across the wooden surface, “do you know of any employment opportunities?”

“Regrettably not, sir,” the waiter replies and exchanges final pleasantries before returning behind the buffet to assist an unruly patron.

Mando sighs and returns his guard to the Child—who grabs a spoonful of scalding liquid and squeals in delight—and chews on the inside of his lip in thought. Tatooine is just as detestable as the last time he was here—the hustle and bustle never-ending. One would think that the Mandalorian could blend in with such an immense and diverse population, but his outright existence drew attention to himself; it’s becoming a ritual each time he steps foot inside a cantina. People’s discussions quickly cease as they scrutinise the warrior upon his entrance, contemplating whether they could neutralize him and pry the beskar steel from his body to sell in the black market. Some have tried and failed, of course. In his youth, Mando thrived off the sensation. It was empowering to have others tremble in their skin at the sheer sight of a Mandalorian, but he’s matured and those days are long since dead. He’s travel-worn, too exhausted to concern himself with people’s thoughts regarding him, so long as they weren’t orchestrating his downfall.

“I ain’t never seen a thing like this before,” a disembodied voice mutters from behind the Mandalorian, the shoddy cantina lighting casting a shadow across their table. Mando doesn’t tear his attention from the Child but reaches for his blaster nonetheless, the leathers fiddling with the hilt in preparation. “Where’d you get it?”

When he doesn’t reply, the figure shifts to come between him and the Child—a trandoshan with wide-set eyes and sharp pointed teeth, sneering at the man underneath the beskar. She’s got yellow-brown scaly skin and dons a protective piece underneath an unbuttoned shirt, with a hunting rifle across her back and a carbine strapped to her belt. She steals a chair from the closest table and swings it around to join the pair, placing her elbows on the table and looking back-and-forth between Mando and the Child.

“We’re looking to raise a youngling like this, maybe something a lil’ bit more competent than this one.” The Child’s green ears perk up at the stranger but just as quickly dismisses her, plunging the spoon into the womp rat stew for seconds or thirds—Mando wasn’t keeping track. She glances behind Mando and waves a hand and calls, “Bookoo, what d’ya think?”

Bookoo—a Wookiee decked with nothing more than a dual bandolier across his chest and a small satchel at his hip—appears into view, soaring over the accumulated individuals and extends a welcoming smile at Mando underneath the shaggy rug of his face. “Muawa, ur oh.”

“No? What, you think we’re gonna get anything better?”

Mando interrupts, tired of the banter, “He’s not going with you.”

“We have credits,” she taps the satchel on Bookoo’s hip, they clash against one another inside the leather.

“He’s not for sale.” Mando tears himself from his seat and shepherds the Child into his arms, ignoring the burbles and whines he emits as he tries to grab hold of the bowl. Mando turns for the exit, intently listening to the whispers of the pair behind him, but stops when called for.

“Uh-sir... Mandalorian, sir?” He turns on his heels and eyes the waiter who places two small packages stacked together atop the counter. “Your dessert, sir.”

The Trandoshan eyes the Mandalorian as he awkwardly balances the boxes in one arm and the Child in the other. She steps forwards once his hands are far from his blaster to make her claim, “I promised my group I’d bring back an apprentice, ya see? With a lil’ bit of training, that thing should be good to go. Ain’t that right, Bookoo?”

Bookoo steps back defensively, “Mu waa waa.”

“Stupid Wookiee,” she mutters and rises from her stool, her bare feet tapping against the cantina’s duracrete flooring. She places a claw on the counter in an attempt of intimidation, but she only sustains a pathetic reaction from the waiter. “What’s a Mandalorian need a child for anyways? You raising that thing to become one?”

“We’re done talking.”

“Aw, come on. We’re just having a small chat. No need to run for the dunes.”

The Mandalorian denies her the satisfaction of retaliation and continues outside. The familiar crunch of grit a welcoming sound through his filters—he never thought he’d be comforted by such a sound. The Trandoshan yells one last remark before he steers a corner, “If you change your mind, we’ll be here!”

He’s suspicious of their intentions—and uncertain whether they were tailing him—so he weaves through the night crowd, bumping and pushing the drunkards to and fro. Once he’s scampered plenty, and positive they hadn’t been stalking his footsteps, he returns to Peli’s hangar with a drowsy Child and now-cold dessert. Optimally, the kid will be tuckered out for the rest of the night but it was never a certainty—he just hopes he’ll give him some privacy for at least a few hours.

Peli wipes grease on a rag hanging from a belt hoop of her coveralls and offers Mando a smile, “I assume you got yourself a job?”

Mando shakes his head in defeat and delivers one of the takeaway boxes in her hands.

“What’s this?” She opens the box and her eyes practically light up with joy but it’s short-lived as she eyes him suspiciously, “Is this a bribe?”

“Just a nice gesture. I thought.”

“Hmm,” Peli hums and closes the box, nodding her head slightly. “Well, ‘bout that ship of yours… It’ll be two thousand.”

Two thousand. It’ll bleed their funds dry, but the Crest needs repairs. Without them, they’d be stranded here on Tatooine for the unforeseeable future—something Mando really couldn’t accommodate. There’s too much sand. Too many people. His calloused hands aren’t for sitting on; they’re created to work, and he won’t allow himself to leisure around a planet without performing some act.

The Girl won’t be pleased to hear he’s gone and spent a large sum of her earnings—not to mention how she’ll react when she ultimately comprehends she will be required to stay a little longer than expected. Mando feels his lips curling and he tries to smother it with reasoning; tries to tell himself he can’t keep her detained alongside him forever, but he’s obstinate and doesn’t take heed of his own advice. There’s a leap in his heart and a twisting in his stomach at the thought she’ll remain beside him for a little while longer—at least until he has the credits.

Perhaps the Child was onto something when he went and ripped all those wires out.

“That’s with a discount,” Peli adds.

“I should buy more of those.”

Peli scoffs at his jesting comment and tosses the takeaway parcel atop a flat surface. “The Girl. She’s good with her hands.”

If only she knew.

Something within the mechanic suggests that she does, in fact, know judging by the speculation written across her face; her squinted eyes waltzing his figure and her teeth chomping on the inside of her cheek to avoid voicing a sarcastic comment. The shield of beskar may disrupt his facial expressions—concealing them to only his cognisance—but his mannerisms are increasingly heightened to others and he’s gradually realising he’s not as proficient in masking them as he originally thought.

Mando swallows a thick lump in his throat and shifts his weight to one foot, his hip cocking out vaguely. “Is the maintenance finished?” he asks, shifting the topic to something he can reduce the awkwardness with.

Peli clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes, “Oh, you mean the replacement of the entire navigational controls? Yeah, did it all by myself in a matter of a few hours. No help from my droids. No, it’s not done! Do you know anything about spacecraft restoration?”

“I typically leave that in the hands of...professionals.” Mando chooses carefully. “When will it be ready?”

“Me and your Girl are done for the night.”

His Girl?

Mando’s cheeks flush mildly, a faint tint of pink lining across his nose accompanied by a heat tackling the inside of his visor. Those two little words sound exceptional as the settle surrounding him, fogging his head with the seven letters—seven letters that he couldn’t relate to. They don’t belong to him; wouldn’t belong to him.

But he lets himself fantasise they could—they are.

His Girl.

Mando’s lips ghost underneath the beskar, mouthing the words to himself as though to test the waters; dipping his toes in the substance and sampling the texture before sinking into it, letting it engulf him. He thinks of His Girl’s lips and how soft, how gentle, they looked. Her lips are the sandy borders of a beach—sand he wouldn’t mind if it were to wedge its way through his flight suit to abuse his body— and her tongue, her saliva, are the waters; refreshing but salty, leaving him thirsty for more.

Peli drags him out of his daydreaming without realising it, “But it should be up and running before the suns’ at its peaks. So you better have my credits ready! I’m not free labour, ya know.”

“Don’t worry,” he groans, “you’ll get the payment.”

She crosses her arms taut over her chest and squints at him suspiciously, probably wondering how he’s going to manage to pay her, but her determination fades into moderate compassion with a deep exhale. “All right, gimme the kid.”

“What? Why?”

Her earthy eyes flick up to the cockpit’s viewport and Mando twists his body to observe. The top of the Girl’s head can be seen from his perspective, her arms raised high above her in a stretch and then just as quickly disappears out of sight. Peli teasingly shoves Mando’s shoulder and laughs, “Go on, I’ll take the kid for the night. I’ll even do it for free; reimbursement for the dessert.”

She’s a blessing in disguise—who’s he to decline such a persuasive offer?

“Just-” Peli stabilises the weight in her arms, the Child placidly dozing off in one, “I better not be hearing all that, okay? If you wake either me or the kid up-”

“Thank you.”

She watches him, stunned, and then shakes her head and mutters something under her breath. Mando doesn’t even feel tempted to know what she’s whispering to herself, he only has one thought on his mind: His Girl.

The Mandalorian reunites with the Girl in the cockpit’s cabin. She’s sitting on the floor tinkering with loose cabling with a craned neck to accommodate for the low-rise control board. Mando’s unsure whether he’s delighted to see her down there or disappointed; something within him expecting her to be somewhere less uncomfortable, awaiting his return—it’s a selfish thought and a very hormonal one at that. He sighs to himself and sits in the passenger’s seat, his elbows leaning on his knees to peer over her shoulder. “I thought Peli said you were finished?” Mando queries.

“She’s finished. I’m not.”

Mando breathes her name, introducing it to the cramped cockpit and it’s stale air, and she pauses a moment to turn her head and look into the magnetising visor. Now he’s the one pausing. It’s comical how he’s so easily conquered by a single glance. She doesn’t look at him like that in holoplays—where her eyes gleam in the low light hanging above and her mouth twitches when she’s restraining a smile—so why does his heart flutter and his blood surge through his veins? Rather, her eyebrows are crinkled with discouragement on account of uncooperative cords and there’s a streak of oil across her forehead—she looks just as gorgeous as ever.

Mando’s voice softens as he talks to her, “Take a break. It can wait until morning.”

She dismisses his recommendation, “It’s fine, I can keep going.”

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.”

“Quoting me to myself now, are we?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “You’re persuasive.” She chuckles some and he delves into the rumbles, enveloping himself in the bubbliness of it. “I brought food. You can have some if you stop working.”

She quirks an eyebrow and eyes the package in his leathers. “What is it?”

“Come here and look.”

“Are you having some?”

Mando contemplates, but he already knows his answer. “I’m not hungry,” he lies.

“Neither am I.” She deceitfully smiles and returns to her labours—it’s arduous, her fingers firmly twining the wires together and unravelling others apart to reconnect to a bundle loosely hanging underneath the panel.

The Mandalorian had completely forgotten how stubborn she can be, especially with his thoughts distorted by the events of last night; she had been so adaptable and willing to aid him. It’s ridiculous to think they’re the same person. Jaw clenching with defeat, Mando sighs heavily and fiddles with the takeaway box. It’s lid lifts from its fastenings to expose a small stack of fluffy cobalt-coloured pancakes. They’re slightly soggy from the absorbed condiments and stone-cold, having been outside for far too long, but they’re a Tatooine delicacy he had yet to try before.

Mando glances at the Girl and rips the pancake into sections, simultaneously watching her exhaust herself. She groans dramatically and readjusts her position, practically laying on her stomach with her torso hoisted by her elbows. It allows for her to maneuver underneath the control panels—and allows Mando to drag his eyes lower.

His leathers slide underneath the bottom of his helm and dislodge it from position, the beskar expelling a sharp hiss of air. He freezes at the reminder but the Girl doesn’t seem interested in the newly discovered noise; he continues, elevating the hindrance just above his mouth to slot in a slice of torn pancake.

They’re soft like her hands and he lets himself imagine they are—pretends the sweetness of the syrup is actually his cum on her fingers or, better yet, her own slick. He’s reluctant to even chew, not wanting to shred the impure fantasy he’s created upon himself, so he doesn’t. Mando sits there with the pancake in his mouth just holding it there, letting his tongue flatten underneath it and suck the syrup out to relish in the bittersweetness.

It’s only once he’s drained it of its flavour that he finally devours the cake in hunger. It’d been a while since he last ate, but he repeats the process with the other sections he had torn apart—struggling to contain his self-control as he savours the sweetness and imagery of the Girl writhing underneath him.

Mando plops the tips of his leathers in his mouth and absorbs the residual syrup before aligning his helmet in place yet again, his hunger reasonably quenched—his thirst for the Girl, not so much. It doesn’t help matters when she reaches for a cord and her poncho rides up, unmasking the curves of her backside and revealing a splinters-worth of skin above the hem of her pants. He indulges at the sight of taunting skin and licks a drop of syrup from his lips, imagining his head between her thighs lapping at something sweeter—tangier. Mando feels so fucking undignified around her like his honour has been squeezed out of an over-absorbed rag; dripping through the gaps in his fingers and there’s nothing he can do to catch it before it vaporises before his eyes hardly leaving a trace in its wake.

It’s wholly improper how his eyes attack her unclothed skin, obsessing over it like a glass of water in the outskirts of Tatooine. Now that he thinks about it, his mouth is significantly parched and he’s forced to bite his lip to avoid reaching out for the temptation. Still, he hungers to run his fingers across the bare flesh and explore her bumps and curves with his tongue, dragging it over her neck and feel the rumbles of her moans as he sucked on a pulsing vein. Her moans—what a magnificent sound that must be.

The unspoken promise between them plays with the dark crevices of his imagination.

I’ve got more than hands.

Mando’s unsure if she meant it; she hadn’t indicated anything to him since his return. Is she expecting him to make the first move? If so, that’s torturous in itself.

Coffee-coloured eyes battle against the azure cakes and he confronts a moral dilemma. He has an inclination to satisfy the building arousal in his pants but it doesn’t align with his traitorous voice, “Eat.”

The Girl glances over her shoulder and Lord, he could get used to that view especially with him atop of her. She reverts her gaze to the opened box in his lap. “I’m not-”

“I’ve had one,” he confesses and tilts the box to show a stack of three remainders, “two each, but you can have my other.”

“When did you… Did you take off your helmet? In front of me?”

“Behind you,” he corrects.

She doesn’t find the humour in the situation, though, which surprises Mando. “What - what about your Creed? Fuck, Mando. You can’t…”

His expression softens underneath the visor and he sinks to his knees on the ground so he’s eye-level with the Girl, clasping one of her hands in his leathers. “Don’t concern yourself with that. I didn’t remove it entirely, just enough to eat. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal? Mando-”

Mando impolitely interrupts her by pushing a torn slab of blue through her parted lips—his digits lingering longer than necessary—and he chuckles at her shocked grimace.

She swallows and slaps his pauldron, “Rude!”

“Sit down and eat.”

The Girl conforms to his invitation and settles beside him, her back firmly planted against the durasteel wall of the cockpit. Mando awkwardly lowers to sit as well, the beskar clanking against the wall behind them but he doesn’t take any notice of it. It’d be like herding a group of Nexu—utterly impossible—if he tried to concentrate on anything but her thigh against his or her hand digging through the box on his lap.

She munches on a blue cake beside him and it takes everything in him to give her privacy and not drool over the sticky syrup running down her fingers. It’s like she can read him though, her unsoiled hand hooking two fingers on the underside of the helmet and dragging it to look at her. “What about you?”

“I’ve...had one.”

“One. I don’t want you passing out on me. Here, I’ll look away.”

Mando eyes the divided dessert between her fingers and the drop of golden syrup slowly making way to her third knuckle. She’s not looking at him and can’t identify whether he’s accepting her offer or not, but she doesn’t dare retract her hand; it just hovers in the air waiting for his leathers to grasp the food from her—they don’t. Something so much softer does, though.

Mando licks a long stripe along the underside of her fingers, tearing the pancake from her clutch with his tongue and reserving it in the cheek of his mouth for later—too preoccupied with the sugary concentrate coating her fingers. She tenses at the sensations. It’s overwhelming, consuming her thoughts and spitting them out in a pile of goo. It’s almost irresistible to not look at him, to not watch as he sucks on her fingers so fucking desperately, but she’s respectful of his Creed even if it kills her.

“Mando,” she whispers because it’s too quiet, too real.

His tongue is persistent, parting her fingers from each other and lapping at the syrup in the crevices of her knuckles. It’s so sweet and he moans around her fingers at the taste on the back of his tongue. Mando doesn’t concern himself with the potential of humiliation—he ought to look downright laughable right now—because she’s so sweet and soft in his mouth, far superior to the pancake he relished earlier. There’s a puny attempt to pull away on her behalf but with a firm grip on her wrist, she holds her position inside his mouth, especially when his teeth lock her digits in place, while her other hand finds the plate of thigh armour and hooks the fingers underneath.

“Shit,” she breathes and leans into him.

The Girl’s palm flattens against his chin and he stiffens his jaw, his movements slacking behind now that he’s focused on the warmth on his face. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched him so tenderly, no - he could but he didn’t want to; didn’t want to ruin the moment with the imagery of blaster fire and his mother’s last loving touch.

Her reassuring strokes against his cheeks with her free fingers urge him on and he sucked the final of the syrup from her digits before freeing them from his lips, placing a peck on the tips. Once the helmet is resealed, he finishes the neglected pancake in his mouth.

“You’re not as reserved as you act,” she chuckles, “where was that last night?”

Mando smiles. “Come here and let me show you.”

Where was all this confidence coming from?

He doesn’t care—he’s making a fucking move while he can.

The Girl contemplates him with a raised brow and a small smirk toying at her lips. It makes him want to know what she’s thinking—formulating—in that head of hers, but he’s not left in suspense for long. She braces a leg over his lap and straddles him, constricting her inner thighs against the outside of his and tilting his helmet back to look up at her.

Mando nearly stops breathing, his organs refusing to cooperate in unison with such an unknown weight atop of him. All that confidence from earlier completely obliterates with just one roll of her hips—maybe it wasn’t confidence but arrogance, he thinks. She’s devious, he can see the pleasure in her eyes at his unfolding below her.

“Are you looking at me?” she asks, a hand on either side of his helmet to steady his head.

He nods because he doesn’t trust himself not to whine if he opens his mouth.

She looks back at him and for a moment, just a second, he feels as though she can see him, and then she grinds down and sketches the outline of his stiffening cock below her heat—and fuck if it isn’t one of the friskiest things he’s ever beared witness to. There’s just something so unique about the eye contact when she’s unravelling him like a ball of yarn; he wants to gaze into her eyes without the guard ahead of him and break her apart. “F-fuck, you’re,”-she rolls her hips again, faster-“ah, you’re too - too good to me.”

“I know,” she quips.

Daunting. It’s so fucking daunting being so paralysed with arousal underneath the Girl, stripped down to an accumulated pile of whimpers and twitches as she takes her sweet time tormenting him—and he fucking enjoys every second of it. He’s fatigued from years of bounty hunting, years of being shot, stabbed, beaten, and it’s stimulating having somebody touch him so languidly and voluntarily care for him in such a way.

“Tell me what you want, Mando.”

He swallows.

It’s so fucking ironic. He’s never had more than a few thousand credits to his name at a time and yet, pinned below the Girl with her being so provocative, he feels like the richest man alive—because it couldn’t be luck; he’d never been so fortunate to as receiving a simple bounty commission, a beautiful girl extracting every drop of arousal out of him no less.

He moans her name and inches his fingers under her poncho, “Want - fuck, I need-”

Mando’s pleas are interrupted by a suspiciously familiar disembodied voice shouting, “Come on out and nobody gets hurt!” It’s a gruff, hoarse sound that oils the cogs in his mind. The Trandoshan. She must’ve followed him here…but he took precautions…

He can’t find it within himself to tear his hands away from the Girl to survey the threat outside, so she takes it upon herself to clamber off his lap leaving him cold and hard in his pants. Molten lava rises in his chest as he raises to his feet, staring out the viewport with such vengeance it almost surprises him. The Trandoshan firmly stands with Peli Motto beside her, the barrel of her carbine pressed against her temple, and the Child squirming in her adjacent limb.

“Shit!” he growls and slams a pair of closed fists against the nav controls. It whines upon impact and blips a malfunctioning screen at his outburst.

“Hey, calm down,” she soothes, a hand slipping into his.

“They have Peli! ...The kid.”

The Trandoshan leers at him through the viewport. “Leave that blaster of yours on the ship and get down ‘ere. No funny business either! I’ll fire a hole through her head otherwise. Then the Kid’s.” She accentuates her point by thrusting the barrel against Peli’s temple harder.

The Girl fishes his blaster out of his holster. “They haven’t seen me,” she explains. “I’ll wait until you get close enough to them but don’t try anything without me.”

It could work. It could fail. He didn’t have an alternative plan.

“Okay,” he agrees, understanding the moment between them is long gone.

With one final gawp outside, Mando pries himself away from the nav controls and heads downstairs, bare. It’s not as though he’s completely defenceless; the flamethrower in his vambraces had enough fuel to get him out of a pinch, the whipcord could serve a purpose if essential, and he still possessed his vibro-knife in his boot. None of that can compare to the comfort of a blaster in his hand though.

The Child and Peli Motto’s safety is his priority, so he’ll comply with the Girl’s strategy and get as close to the Trandoshan as possible. He’ll use brute force if necessary.

They’ve relocated to an open region in the hangar where it’ll be near impossible to shield everybody if a blaster fight ensues. Preferably, it won’t come to that. The Trandoshan flexes her finger against the trigger when Peli fidgets with her hands beside her. Mando vaguely shakes his head in her direction and examines the Child’s wellbeing in the yellow-brown scaly arms.

“I’m here.” He raises his hands to demonstrate his compliance, “Let them go and we’ll talk.”

She sneers at him, laughs. “No.” The blaster reels back and whips Peli over the head, knocking her unconscious in a piled heap on the ground. Mando moves forwards, his fists tightening with each step. “Hold it right there.” The Child whines against the cold barrel pressing into his wrinkled forehead. Mando stops hastily, his eyebrows twitching with rage.

“What do you want?”

“I’ve already told you.”

“What do you need a child for?”

She smiles hauntingly, her sharp teeth locking together through her open-mouthed grin. “We don’t need one, but this one’s got a pricey bounty on its head,”—she aims for the flesh above his heart plate—“as do you.”

Guild members. Just his luck they’d be situated on Tatooine at the same time as he is.

The Mandalorian’s visor tilts to the Child in her arms, his eyes narrowing on the outstretched green claw. The kid’s eyes shut and his forehead wrinkles as he desperately tries to concentrate on something, and then it clicks in Mando’s head. His powers. The Child hadn’t used them since they took down the Mudhorn and Mando was beginning to think they had vanished, but they mustn’t have—he’s too focused on the air ahead of him.

The Trandoshan hasn’t noticed his fidgeting and Mando takes it upon himself to keep the barrel focused on him by stepping forwards, providing the Child time to figure out his abilities. “You won’t leave here alive,” he taunts.

She seems unfazed by his remarks, too confident in her plans. “Ah, what do we have here?” The Trandoshan asks curiously, peering over the Mandalorian’s figure and he whips his head to follow. The Girl is subdued in the arms of the acquainted Bookoo, who must’ve been anticipating resistance and remained obscured from their sight.

The Girl fights against his grip but he’s far too strong for her to overpower and she limps in defeat, glancing up behind her at the Wookiee; eyes enlarging and her mouth falling agape underneath the face-covering she donned for the occasion.

Then—the last thing the Mandalorian expects to hear—the Trandoshan exclaims her name in a greeting, “It’s been a while!”

_______________________________

“Muawa, ur oh” - no, thank you “Mu waa waa” - please leave me alone

A/N: Good lord I am so sorry for an 8k chapter, I really didn’t want to split it into two. However, with this one being so long the next might not be out until the middle of next week (if I can manage to actually concentrate for long enough to write). Let me know how you enjoyed it and if you want to be added to the taglist! PS I’m running of gifs...please help...what do yall search for such hd gifs?

taglist: @ohhersheybars, @greatcircle79

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infinites-chaser · 3 years

Text

//.reverie // mlqc // lucien

print(hello world)

im knee deep in a writing slump bUT i plugged a paragraph of writing into this funky little neural network and kept generating 500 words with it for. an aBSURD amount of time (while also telling it to focus on including the words ‘memory’ ‘dreams’ and ‘color’) and what it spit out was the cOOLEST. and i tried to kinda parse through it to find the most interesting bits and make it slightly more coherent and it ended up being a little like how i’d imagine a series of dreams Lucien might’ve had post ch.18 so i hope someone? enjoys?

warning for non-explicit drug use, general fragmentATion and lack of narrative plot or coherence, the bizarre nature of dreams, spoiler-adjacent content for ch.13 and hinting at stuff from ch.18 onwards

The paragraph the neural network consumed (from watch the universe expand):

"You know, sometimes I think the stars must be lonely," she says, and though he doesn't dare look at her, he hears her both in real life and through the phone speaker cradled close to his ear. He feels rather than sees her move closer to his side of the balcony, closing the distance, coming to the edge.

"They're thousands of light years away from each other," she continues. "Maybe they wonder if they're all alone, sometimes, if they're the only light for miles in an empty, endless dark sea."

"It makes me sad, to think about it. We spend our lives looking up at the stars and casting lines, drawing constellations between them, but in reality, they're just as lonely as we are. Maybe even more."

prelude.

In his dreams, he has color for days, but that's because his memories are always colored with color. He remembers the colors of all the colors, he knows it, because colors fade in real life, colors can be rearranged. They stay the same in dreams. He remembers colors and faces in dreams, with absolute certainty.

He stands up and steps away from the glass, out onto the balcony. As the darkness reaches all the way to the bottom of the floor, he sees shadows in his mind. He recognizes the colors, the colors of dreams, as colors of real life. He can tell his memory is broken in his dreams, with such clarity that he could read an entire newspaper front page through color and dreams.

(He takes a step closer to the blue sky.)

He remembers when he had first been able to see the constellations in the night sky, just a few short years ago, when his eyesight still had the capability to take in so much. They'd wanted to go to a star party, together, where he could be amazed by a whole world of constellations, but he'd turned it down.

"You were scared of strangers," she says. "It's not a strangers-only thing."

"That's true," he says.

"You're still shy," she says.

"I never was shy,” he says.

I never really grew up, he thinks.

ii.

He feels her warm breath. The scent of her.

"Do you think they look down at us and feel the loneliness of millions of years alone?"

"The stars? I've always imagined they might."

“Do you think they wonder about us, too? Or feel sorry for us?”

He scoffs.

“What’s there to wonder about?”

She shrugs. Her eyes look as distant as the stars. As cold.

"The sadness of losing one's entire species and the companionship of someone who sees and understands the beauty of the stars because of what we lost. Or the loneliness of knowing our species won't survive the disaster we caused."

“What do you mean,” he starts. Her lips curve up into a mockery of a smile.

“You know what,” she breathes. “Ares.”

(He wakes. Calls the dampness on his cheeks a nightmare’s cold sweat and not tears.)

iii.

He shrugs.

“We forget, don’t we? The world moves on. We move on.”

"That's not the way it is,” she says. “The best love in life comes from time spent with another person, the love that never fades or leaves you in darkness, like memories do. Sometimes, it's not the love we give each other but the love we receive from each other. I don't know, I guess the answer would depend on the person."

"Maybe the stars never forget their dreams,” she says. “Or the people they knew, or their color. Maybe they never lose the ability to recognize and remember what they're drawn to. Or maybe they can never forget the color of your eyes."

iii, ii.

“We forget, don’t we? The world moves on. We move on.”

(Do we? He thinks. Thinks they’ve been here, standing atop this balcony before. Thinks he's seen her eyes turn cold. Thinks he's seen her cry.)

He shrugs.

"No," she says quietly, but softly, still looking at the stars, still thinking about the comfort she gave him. (It's never enough, always, to fill the emptiness, the longing, the memories that must remain buried inside him.)

"I don't believe that. I know that the stars up there are as lonely as us, because they're like us, they love each other, they care for each other, they care for us, and love keeps us warm in the cold. Love is the one thing that can save us."

"You're right," he says. (Holds her close. Wishes he could do the same while awake.)

"Love really can save us. I have faith in that. No matter what happens, no matter what we do, we have to find ways to love each other and hold on to each other."

"Do you remember the dreams you've had about the colors, or the faces of the people in the colors?"

She laughs softly. "I can never forget you, or your color, or the color of that sky in your memories, now. But that picture might look a little different in the morning light. Right now, I can't see it very well. You know, sometimes it's hard to remember what color the sky looks like in your memory when it's bright outside. It doesn't really feel like a real memory. You've said that yourself, at least."

"No, I haven't," he says. "It's just a memory."

"A memory?" she asks.

"A memory?" she repeats. “It’s always memories with you.”

He can't tell if she's laughing or not, or if she's teasing him or not.

“What do you mean?”

"It’s a secret,” she says. “You could always just ask me in real life.”

(I can’t, he thinks, but can’t say. Can't remember why.

He wakes.)

vi.

"Color?" she repeats. "Color?"

"Yes," he says. "You're color. You're always ... different, in my memories."

She laughs. "Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe we remember our lives as they were, not what we wish they were. Maybe that means we can forgive ourselves a little more.”

"For what?"

(She's frozen.

She fades.

For what? He thinks, then wakes.)

vii.

"I think I have colors for months in my memory," she says. "See here?"

"What?"

"Colors. In the moon, or this tree, or maybe the sky?"

"You mean right now?"

"No. All of them, at one time or another."

"What color is the sky?"

She laughs, and her voice is beautiful. She tells him that the sky looks the color of memories and dreams.

But then he asks another question. "When you dreamed last night, what did you dream about?”

"I can't remember all of them," she says. “My dreams. They fade.”

"But you do remember that you were dreaming, back there?"

"I was dreaming. About you."

"Why?"

"I don't know. All I know is that the dream felt like a good one."

"It must have been, if you remember it. Did you have the same dreams when you were growing up?"

"Yes," she whispers. "Sometimes."

(“Sometimes I think we must’ve met in one.”

“What?”

“A dream."

"That'd be nice, wouldn't it?")

viii.

“The stars,” she murmurs. “Do you think they dream? Do you think they can escape?"

"Perhaps they can, to some extent," se says. "I'm not sure it works for everyone."

She asks him to step into the blue sky with her. To escape. To return.

"Can you go back? I haven't asked anyone to go back yet, but maybe you can."

He takes a step, closing his eyes. He remembers the color of this blue sky, and he remembers dreaming and dreaming. He remembers colors, and colors are real, so they must be real in real life. So he steps forward into the blue sky.

His skin stretches and stretches and stretches, the colors in his skin growing more vivid as he steps further, he gets closer to the sky. The colors disappear in his memory, which can still contain dreams, so that his skin looks almost white, at first. His body elongates until he looks like he's wearing a strange version of a spacesuit, like the one his friends wore when they had to wear oxygen masks on the surface of planets and robots to stay alive.

He hears his echo. It’s saying that he looks lonely. Pale blue dot— he'll drift through space, he'll miss her in the dark, or he won't but he'll be too late, anyway.

It's hard to figure out which colors in the blue sky he's really seeing. He thinks the color of his skin looks like the sky he remembered, but maybe it isn't really the sky he remembers. He sees colors of the people he knew and the colors of the colors of the sky, but he sees colors that are impossible to connect with other colors.

(He surfaces to darkness, insides twisting, writhing, turned snakes by the venom he's made of his blood. He staggers to the sink, spits up poison. Thinks about forgetting. Thinks about taking more.)

ix.

His color is yellow, the color of a sick leaf, and the first of the colors of his dreams.

"Tell me again what color I look like in your memory," she says.

He tries to focus on that part of her, of her memory, where he actually sees her. He thinks about how good her skin looks, how smooth and pale and slightly glowing. He can't remember her color.

"Do I look just like you remember?" he asks.

"Your color is the color of yellow of the leaves, right?"

"Yes," he whispers.

“You’re sick,” she says, and places a hand on his cold cheek, lets it warm.

“Sick,” he echoes, closes his eyes against her touch. Lets himself fade. Lets himself rest. “Perhaps.”

"I don't remember it," he admits. "Your color."

"But you don't want me to, do you?"

She sighs, and for a moment, it seems she's crying. "No," she whispers. "No, not all."

"You didn't want me to know, did you?"

"Yes, I did. I do."

She bites her lip. Looks down. Looks away.

"I want you to remember. Just— not like this. Never like this."

"Why?"

"Because you'd see the way I laugh and the way I'm breathing, and if you just heard it for yourself, you'd know the way I loved your hair when you woke up from the dream that you shared with me. The way you looked when you talked about your life, when you stared up at the sky, seeing the dreams in your eyes."

(He had forgotten them already, because they were beautiful, those memories, and he knew them without remembering their color. Without remembering her name. Without remembering the truth.

The sky, he thinks, is even more vivid than memories.)

xi.

"I don't know," he says. "Why don't I remember? What am I forgetting?"

"I don't know either," she says. "I think...I must've forgotten, too."

"But maybe it doesn't matter— we do remember colors, don't we? As colors really are. Because we can remember them. You know, that's why color blindness must be one of the most terrible things that's ever been born. For a color-blind person, they see the colors of people and things by the color of their eyes, and they can't tell when the color is off. Just like colors are difficult to remember, and colors are difficult to see."

He smiles at her.

"There's one more way, isn't there?"

“To see color?”

“To remember,” he whispers, and lowers his lips to hers. She flinches under him, he steadies her, then she’s limp, his hands tight around her neck and he—

(He wakes.)

xii.

"Why are you here again?" she asks.

He shakes his head.

“I don’t know.”

"We might be in the middle of remembering," she says. "We're both always in the middle of remembering things in the middle of moments."

"Oh, you're an astrologist, then," he mutters, trying to remember the word. It doesn’t sound right. Nothing does.

"Astronomer?" He asks. She shakes her head. She's smiling, but her eyes are dark. Dark and blue.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," she says. "We should probably stop."

"Stop?"

She smiles again, her eyes bluer still.

No, he realizes. Not blue. Sad.

"It's time to wake up," she murmurs. He reaches for her, but it's too late. She fades, and he's left alone drifting under the stretching stars.

(Astronaut, he thinks, between planets and stardust. He remembers.)

...

fin.

"Are you saying I'm color-blind?"

She laughs again.

"Oh, no," she says. "Not color-blind at all. Your color blindness is just a side effect of your memory. You remember some colors well, and it doesn't matter what color the sky or a flower is, you can recognize it. So, yes. Your color blindness is your memory of colors."

"How is it my memory?" he asks, and though he could never be color-blind, he can still remember colors well enough to recognize the colors of the rainbow on the horizon as clouds drift by the sky.

"Maybe your color blindness is what happens when you spend so much time remembering color and color and color," she suggests, and somehow some part of him knows what she means is remembering me. Remembering my smile.

"Oh," he says. He considers it.

They are silent, for a time, until a sound cuts through the night air, crying through his whole body with a low swish of noise. He thinks he hears a whistling, and then it's back again. Then it's different, maybe growing louder, and he wonders if it's a ringing, but the sound gets fainter, so faint that he begins to think he imagined it.

"Is that the whistle?" she asks, and he can hear the alarm in her voice.

"Did it start again? Is this world going to end?" She whispers it, the sound again, and the sound grows closer, an elongated screech. The whistle never ceases.

The whistling sounds in every direction, like a swarm of insects.

And the smell is the worst, the most awful smell, like bad meat, or a stagnant ditch full of mud and dirt and rotten meat. He can barely breathe, and can barely see through the curtain of fog. He stands, reaching toward her, trying to hear her, but everything around him is changing.

"What is it?" she asks, and her voice is lost, lost in the darkness. She is lost. She is gone.

The smell, a putrid odor like rotten meat, begins to affect his mind, and he cannot remember her words.

There's something blue (sad) behind his eyelids. He tries to look and discovers that he can't.

"What's that?" he asks. He's in the clearing, still dressed in the dark color of morning (mourning), and everything is out of place, though he can't see it.

"It's my color. It's blue." He stares at it.

"My favorite color. Blue. And there's something pink around it. Couldn't see that before. It's pink."

The colors, he thinks. Those are colors. The whistling sound, I must have heard that noise before.

(The whistling doesn't sound like whistling at all. It sounds like heartbreak. It sounds like a scream.)

That's why I can't remember her. I remember colors, and it's like there's a wall in my mind, because I remember color, color and nothing else, color and her smile, the beginning, the middle, and not ever the end.

"I remember colors," he says. "Now let me remember her."

And he remembers pink, he remembers the smell. The whistle (the scream).

(Remembers she died. Remembers he wasn't there to save her.)

There's something red on the sand. It's a bouquet of roses he's picked. Pink and red. Roses. The smell, his nose draws in is the scent of roses.

(He knows they smell like her, but the moment's passed. Once again, he can't remember her.

He thinks, he must not have been hers. She must have not been in love.)

epilogue.

It is dawn when he wants to close his eyes and remember. But he tries not to think about it. He closes his eyes slowly, praying silently to the skies, barely able to imagine that the next time he opens his eyes, maybe they'll be different.

"... like his dreams," he whispers under his breath.

"... and her dreams."

"... like everything here." His steps seem slow today. Steady. Better than any other morning. Fresh.

"Just like his memories. Rest easy, Lucien."

(When the apartment door opens, it’s Ares who emerges.)

this is where im legally obligated to tell u I'm slowly being converted to a comp neuro nerd so i went and read the github of the language learning model inferkit uses, megatron-11b, and it'S hella cool but basically if anyone is worried. no it is not trained on the words u provide it-- the sentence structure/word information that the model 'learns' from is scripts made by the dev. so uh. basically, it's 'learned' all it will about language based on these provided scripts of vocab and sentence structure so when you give it a paragraph of writing, all it's doing is 'reacting' to your words by using its memory of these writing rules to predict (and auto-generate) what words it thinks will come next (the algorithm runs a tON of probability computations and this is the 'thinking' and predicting.)

#mlqc #mlqc lucien #val writes #or rather #ai writes val interpreTS #ghosts. in the MACHINE hnhkfdljgfdk #u didn't hear it here but i am in love with machine learning and the idea of. humans training machines in their image. and learning more ab #out themselves (or their research) through what the machine gives back. we are just. searching for those echoes of consciousness in what th #programs reflect back to uS! the singularity! one day. wE will find it.#kisses to everyone who didn't understand dark night fireworks this is the Vibe i was going for #even i don't understand this <3

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fanficaficionado · 3 years

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okay, i know i said i would be starting with things i knew and loved. hell, i even had a fic from the fandom im currently ass-deep in all lined up!! but then i procrastinated, and i lost motivation, got distracted by my scheduled post-holiday shutdown, and something else finally kicked my ass into gear. so this blog's first true introduction to the world will not, in fact, be a post where i worship the very ground my favorite fic writers walk upon.

no, today we are talking about Ascent into Madness by cesium_sheep

((spoilers, obviously))

Now im going to preface this by saying that this criticism is subjective and based in my opinion. I did genuinely enjoy this story, and i did not at any point feel the urge to launch myself into the sun with nothing but the pure force of my rage, causing the sun to explode and consume planet earth in a scorching hell-blast and decimating all life on our tiny little space rock, which even some of my favorites are guilty of because in some stories characters just love to waffle about ((especially in my preferred reading material which puts romance at a very significant focus)). This story just isn't for me.

I'm going to explain why, and believe me when i say i am being as gentle as i physically can with this story because it is not objectively offensive to my very being, It's a good read and setting aside the problems i have with it i enjoyed it.

I keep repeating that i don't hate this story because i do not want to be accused of baseless hate, not because of reputation or anything but because being accused of something i know i didn't do sets off the same sensation that i get from rubbing my fingernails on egg cartons, the one of the back of my brain being assaulted by the mayonnaise-coated fingers of satan himself. Damn i should really get to the criticism before this just becomes an in depth description of my very soul's adverse reaction to the cream in queen anne chocolate cherries.

anyways.

The thing about this story is that, to me, it feels.. unfinished. Or at the very least like it wandered off its intended course. It leaves me with a feeling of mild dissatisfaction and the taste of confusion in my mouth. I think this problem is best summarized by the fact that, in the first chapter, it is set up that rose is in some sort of hospital, and that dave thinks she is in the grasp of some delusion, and the second chapter sets up the retroactive explanation for how it got to this point. See, what i expected was to be caught up to that point in the story, reach that point in time again, and then progress from there.

But that first chapter?? With the hospital, the delusions, the brick through the window with the radio attached?? Never brought up again, not even once. It is completely discarded and never even thought about. The story even stops trying to set up that scene after a certain point.

To put it in homestuck terms, because i'm a loser, a time player, and come on we're talking about a homestuck fic here you know i have to do this, it feels like we started a loop and then branched off the alpha timeline so completely we aren't even a part of the metaphorical timeline-tree anymore. It nags at my brain man, it's one of the main things that fuelled my motivation in writing this. It feels lost and wandering and it confuses me in a bone deep sorta way.

The second thing that gets to me is the complete lack of information presented about what, exactly, the fuck is going on. I have no idea how we got from point A to point B, not just because it completely disconnects from point A not even halfway through, but also because there's a lot of plot threads thrown in haphazardly and then never extended upon. There's a mention of jake and john's respective guardians knowing something about the story's big bad and all the mystical bullshit that follows along behind him, but that is never followed up on even a little. No one questions why they know, despite this information being so rare that literally only two families and a single group of aliens seem to have access to it. It just is a thing and then whoops, hand musta slipped because that bad boy is out the window and is facing the combined nonexistent mercy of gravity and this ten story drop.

The main plot has this same problem, in feeling like you get just enough info to keep it going forward. There's a sword in rose's umbrella basket or whatever the hell it's called, and it's implied a future dave put it there for his past self, but do we get confirmation that it was him?? Do we see that loop completed?? No, it is just used as a driving force for rose to try and push the fact that dave's got Timey powers. It feels like i'm being pulled by the hand through this story because it only gives just barely enough information to keep this crazy train rolling and then goes so far as to leave fucking time loops hanging there incomplete which okay i might be getting a little peeved about that but can you blame me?? Can you really blame me at all??

Maybe i am judging the plot too harshly, after all i was forewarned not to read for the plot in the summary because it's pretty slow and wandering. So let's get into something else then, yes?? Let's hop to the relationships.

The relationships, too, fall prey to this complete lack of any meaningful focus on any piece of information ever. I'd swear the writer was allergic if that didn't seem too harsh a description. It's a whole lot of telling without any showing, a cardinal sin in writing. We get a conversation with kanaya that doesn't suffer the disconnect from all things that the rest of the story seems haunted by. It's actually really a neat little conversation and i find it kind of wholesome how kanaya talks about rose and i personally think this interaction to be entirely too short. Then kanaya mentions karkat and apparently there's some of davekat's standard romantic tension happening off-screen because dave starts to get flustered and ponders what that means. And once again a plot thread is thrown to the winds because we never get another whiff of it.

Actually on the topic of davekat, dave just naturally gravitates to karkat and then they're stuck together like glue, so stuck in fact that dave dies for karkat because dave apparently forgets the golden rule of "If you have time to jump in front of someone then you have time to push them out of the way" and then ignores the added bit i spitefully wrote on the ancient stone tablet of Things That Make Sense in neon orange sharpie that says "Especially if you have time to have a discussion about your choices with an ambiguously-dead girl. Pull your thumb out of your ass, dave, nobody has to die here, magic option number three was not the one you picked."

Of course, this is a fanfiction, these are characters i already know. I know how these characters would interact, i know how their relationship develops in-canon and i know that given the chance these fuckers become goddamn inseparable. But that doesn't excuse the fact that it is all tell and no show, we dont see how it gets from "You're one of the only familiar faces in a group of strangers and i am not about to start interacting with new people unless i have to" to "Here let me die heroically for you and then be revived for no explainable reason besides Because The Wizard Of God Says So." I have no reason to be invested in this or even give a half-ounce shit despite it literally becoming something that the climax hinges on. And then rose and kanaya are just inexplicably,, together?? Right at the end?? And while i am happy that the lesbians get to be in love everything is off screen and nothing is ever explained, not even like one time, and god it's just so confusing. I am so confused.

But again, maybe i'm being unfair, once again the very tags of this fic are telling me that the relationships are not the focus and only really tagged so people can filter it out. I suppose i should judge the characters, then.

From what i remember there are sixteen characters, excluding ((who i believe to be, as it is once again not explained or explicitly stated to be)) caliborn at the end, with speaking roles. Five of those characters retain any narrative relevance for more than a nanosecond. A good chunk of the trolls arent even mentioned by name, with eridan and i think sollux being mentioned, and who i think to be sollux speaks when rose and dave are first brought to the trolls' apartment but again, the fog of uncertainty clouds all things and i don't have my handy dandy leafblower on me to airblast that shit out of my way. Of the five characters with any focus on them, two are relegated to the role of supporting character, with karkat joining that number more often than not. That leaves us with dave and rose, who are ultimately as a whole unaffected by their experiences. They do not learn anything, they do not grow or change. Sure rose freaks out about her perception of reality, but that falls flat because it's more tell and no show again. Dave freaks out, as he rightfully should in this situation, but there is no arc. There is no significant change in anything but moving toward the boss fight with the big baddie.

There aren't any particularly interesting interactions between these characters, either, i cannot recall one time in which i laughed, or felt much of anything really. They all fall into a state of Existing while also feeling like they aren't doing a whole lot. It's more noticeable in retrospect but these characters just Do Not feel alive, they seem incredibly flat at times and it's hard to notice while you're reading but looking back it stands out so painfully and it makes me very sad.

If i'm not supposed to read for the plot, and i'm not supposed to read for the relationships, and i can't read for the characters, then what is this story meant to be read for?? The only other thing i can think of is the mystery and sorry pal, but that's a plot, which we have already established doesn't really have a whole lot going for it because while your mystery sure is there it is currently stinking up that rug you shoved half the answers under because those mysteries aren't the ones you want to focus on.

Is it simply meant to pass the time?? Is there no deeper purpose besides keeping yourself entertained as the hours tick by?? Because if so, it at least accomplished that. Despite its faults, it kept my attention for the entire fifty one chapters, and it passed my time.

There are other nitpicks i have, but that's more based around the writing style on a more technical level. The chapters are too short for my personal taste, and there are far too many cliffhangers, these things i will not condemn as the writer gave a good reason for the latter and obviously no writer is obligated to churn out 2,500 words per chapter unless they damn well want to.

Ultimately, this story is neither good nor bad. It is straightforward in that it burns any other plot threads besides the main one on the sacrificial alter of The Writer Does What The Writer Wants, it's a bit too ambiguous and under-explained for my tastes, but there is nothing egregiously offensive in it. It is a story that exists. I wouldn't read it again, but i wouldn't not read it again, and i don't even come close to regretting the time i spent reading it ((outside of the fact that it is currently almost nine am and i haven't slept but that one is my own fault)).

I scrolled passed this story in its beginnings, assuming it would not be particularly mindblowing, and now that i've read it i know that i was entirely correct. Read it if you want, or don't, just don't go in expecting something life changing. I suggest picking out a spot on your schedule where you have nothing to do and will no doubt be bored out of your mind. I sincerely doubt you'll regret it.

#homestuck #homestuck fanfic #fanfiction #god what else do i even tag this as. fuckin..#fanfiction critique #????#i feel like a child #i am but a little boy lost in the deep dark woods and i have no idea where i am going #there is no map for this shit #also as i write this tag it is now 9:52 am #a whole hour after i finished writing this monstrosity #because editing this stuff to make it somewhat coherent is a task and a half #i ramble worse than any homestuck character and i have proof too. go ahead. challenge me. i dare you. i know im right #i don't know why or how i got to the bit about queen anne chocolate cherries but i think its funny so fuck it its staying in #again if the author of this fic somehow comes across this and doesn't want this shit on my blog or wants to be tagged like let me know plea #i am trying desperately to not step on any toes or hearts here but i was not Raised so if i fuck up please just tell me #i dont wanna be publicly hung via tumblr anon attacks and callout posts that are poorly made at best and wildly inaccurate at worst #anyways thanks for reading i guess i have no idea how to tie this shit off and it Shows lol #hope i did okay #fuck it im not rereading this anymore im sending it out into the world #off you go little timmy suck it up and face the judgement of strangers

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bellamygateoldblog · 4 years

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how do we feel about bellamy abandoning a suicidal octavia in a toxic forest in the name of monty, 'monty gave his life for us so we could have another change, and im not going to let you destroy it' who repeatedly made it clear in his final season that he wished he did more to save jasper

…we don’t feel great about it. Lol.

Got a little carried away. Apparently I had a stronger opinion on this on this than I thought I did.

There’s an LT;DR at the bottom if you don’t feel like reading the whole thing :)

The Blake relationship is a really complicated one. And I think how you see this event in particular depends on how you interpret this dynamic during the rest of the show, and how sympathetic you are towards Octavia as a character.

I want to start with this: the second chance was Monty’s to give, and only Monty’s. Bellamy doesn’t get to dictate who that message does and does not apply to, because Monty made it perfectly clear he holds no grudges, and wants the best for what’s left of the human race regardless of who they’ve been in the past or what they’ve done. That’s the whole point of ‘doing better’. He just wants everyone to do better than they did, whichever way that is. Monty didn’t specifically say ‘oh but not Octavia she can choke’ so therefore Bellamy had no right to be cowering behind Monty’s words.

He’s telling them to try a bit harder to be more understanding, compassionate, and rational. He wants them to choose to be farmers rather than warriors- to rebuild rather than destroy, to grow rather than deforest, to choose peace over war no matter what. It means a lot more than just ‘hey! maybe don’t go on another genocidal rampage?’

And by abandoning/banishing Octavia, Bellamy did the opposite of what Monty wanted. It almost felt, as i was watching, like he’d sentenced her to death. Like Clarke was banishing Murphy all over again. Or like he was Clarke abandoning him to die in the fighting pits. And I don’t know…repeating old mistakes doesn’t exactly scream ‘doing better’ to me.

Maybe this was Bellamy’s way of ridding the toxicity from the group?

But deciding she’s a lost cause and leaving her there, a clearly mentally unstable woman (and not only just some ‘woman’, but the baby sister he’s shared his life with), on an alien planet that none of them even know is safe at this point, or if it’s inhabited with hostile entities, from some moral high horse/manpainTM point of view is so low. It’s unearned at this point in the series.

Our attention was drawn to how hard it was for him. How upset he was after he did it. Rather than to Octavia and how she felt about it. It brought me back to that moment in season five, to how the camera focused in on Clarke’s pained teary-eyed expression while the child she was electrocuting was a blurry spot the background. Just what the fuck? Is all i have to say about that. He was very much Clarke in this moment; pulling a lever, leaving someone he loves on the outside *for the people* and feeling a bit ashamed but justified about it regardless.

She was trying to do the S1 Bellamy thing and stowaway to an alien planet to protect the one she loved. But the emotional fallout of season five was immense and both of them were way too amped up for any of it to go as planned. Which makes me wonder why the writers even attempted it in the first place?

But let’s just take a minute to think about how reckless and borderline insane this whole decision is from Bellamy- this is the girl who started out an illegal child, unwanted by the people she was born into, who assimilated with the indigenous people, earned their respect, found belonging with them until ultimately she became their leader. Like, if you really thought she was this much of a hazard, throwing her adaptive ass into the wilderness ready to meet another set of warrior people maybe isn’t the best idea you’ve ever had?

HOWEVER

I’m not actually opposed to a detail like this. Because of the unhealthy and sometimes poisonous nature of the Blake sibling relationship. And because they both absolutely needed time apart if Octavia were ever to grow out of Blodreina.

No matter what Monty never gave up on Jasper. But Jasper was usually self-destructive and didn’t act out emotionally using violence like how Octavia does so naturally. He could be a pain in Monty’s ass from time-to-time, but Jasper was never a threat to anyone but himself.

Bellamy cast Octavia out because she killed those guards unnecessarily. She hadn’t yet reflected on what became of her, nor had she processed any of the trauma from the bunker and following battle for Eden, in which some of the heaviest casualties were her most important relationships, with Indra, and with Bellamy. As convinient as it was to utilise violence as a tool for maintaining power, law, and order within the bunker…they aren’t in the bunker anymore, and she is no longer someone with a crushing responsibility.

Was any of that Bellamy’s fault? No.

Was it Bellamy’s job to ‘fix’ her? No.

(Do I think Monty would encourage him to mend their relationship anyway after losing his best friend and brother? Yes.)

But as her big brother and psudo-father, someone that spent his entire life protecting and taking care of her, the bare minimum i’d expect from him in a situation like this is for him to show some empathy, listen to the whole story from her point of view rather than basing his entire livelyhood on the biased accounts of a couple of Wonkru defectors, and make an attempt to understand why she is no longer the baby sister he remembers her being. If anyone was in the position to understand her- her behaviour, her mindset, the weight of leadership and how it shapes a person, and the pressure of making potentially morally corrupt decisions to ensure the people’s safety putting your humanity on the line for it- it’s him.

This was just cheap drama in place of where they could’ve written a meaningful conflict between them.

It was an oppurtunity to address Octavia’s past treatment of him, their co-dependence, their mother, Bellamy deeply believing his life was stolen from him and Octavia feeling she never had a chance to begin with, Bellamy’s inclination to make himself smaller so Octavia can take up as much space as she possibly can, both of their perverse insecurities that manifest in equally debilitating ways, Bellamy’s skewed sense of self pushing him to orbit around her, Octavia’s identity issues and lack of socialisation and resulting narrow black-or-white mindset, I could go on and on. There’s so so much content here to explore. There’s so much stress and pain in this relationship. It’s a shame that despite all that they decided to go omg cannibalism!!!!!!!!

Octavia took forever to forgive Bellamy for what happened to Lincoln, she demonised him, she attacked him over it in one of the most grotesque and unhinged displays of violence i’ve ever seen, and that wasn’t even his fault. I think we can afford Bellamy the same amount of room.

If this ‘banishment’ was the long-time-coming storm of past trauma of their intertwined existences that has long since been buried, if the time of physical peace spent on the ring building a family of his own pushed Bellamy to make a realisation or two about love and family, and the stressful draining qualities of his relationship with Octavia began to morph into resentment of her, and all this abandonment is, is just a beautifully crafted, carefully maintained facade collapsing between them, I WOULD LOVE IT. It’s understandable. But I need to see them have it out with each other first. If nothing is addressed, if they still go on carrying those things around and never find closure, not only is that hindering Octavia’s growth, but Bellamy’s, too.

But none of that happened in season six. Instead i got to see yet another female with her autonomy ripped from her and i got to see manpain.

Over time she supressed any parts of herself that would make her appear weak. It was always going to take time to pull herself out of that dark place and find a way to shape an identity that isn’t based in something that can easily be ripped away from her. So removing her from the group to find ‘the self’ is a good choice. But it had to be her choice.

I think if everything had blown up and Octavia had chosen to leave on her own volition because she recognises her own tragedy and calamity and wants to do what’s right, it would’ve been the perfect place to begin a redemption/reflection arc for her. With self-awareness. What do they say? The first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have one in the first place?

In an answer to another ask I said it would make some sense for Bellamy (and Clarke & Spacekru) to be unintentionally hypocritcal and judgemental considering the time distance between their last violent experience and how long they’ve had to make peace with the past. While Octavia was in the most stressful position she’s ever been in, and right in the thick of things for the six years that everyone else spent healing and maturing in.

So we have Bellamy as his most reassurred, most contented self- and he comes to Earth, he comes face-to-face with an unhinged Octavia, and is overwhelmed immediately with biased and incomplete information recapping the last six years during an erratic situation with enemies. I’d be confused and paranoid, too tf?

Bellamy loves Octavia more than life. But she’s morphed into a woman he no longer recognises and it could even come as a personal betrayal to him. He’s been disconnected from her for six years. He’s no longer intoxicated by his love and devotion to her. And he’s having a hard time accepting that the baby sister he thinks the world of is capable of such cruelty. So he’s having trouble forgiving her for it. I think it makes a lot of sense. Except, again, they never addressed anything like this.

Season five Bellamy I get. I’m sympathetic to him just as I am Octavia.

But in season six he appeared, not like he was acting on years of supressed emotional turmoil, but like he was on some moral high horse looking down on her from it.

The end of season five left things open, and there was a lot of potential there for things between them to improve, but season six took it and threw it out the nearest window. And we saw Octavia crawling on her hands and knees begging for forgiveness from a man that 1) doesn’t want her, 2) doesn’t respect her, 3) refused to listen to her, and 4) only accepted her once she was the woman he wanted her to be, who was now no longer traumatised.

TL;DR: I’m not opposed to the whole idea of them seperating in season six, with Octavia being the castaway, but it should’ve been Octavia’s choice, not Bellamy’s. And I think Monty might be disappointed that this was what (season six) Bellamy took away from his video on ‘doing better’. To ‘do better’ he decided to choose just one person that can represent all the evil that exists within both his people and himself and throw her out the dropship door. Problem solved! But there are many ways in which I think the writers could’ve done a lot more with this idea, and a lot better, too.

#hopefully this i objective I tried to make it so #the 100 #octavia blake #pro octavia blake #bellamy blake #rosie tag: share with the group #took me a couple days to answer so i hope whoever sent it will see

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starrspice · 5 years

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Rose Quartz isn't a villain

Unpopular opinion. But here we go

This is My personal two cents. This isn't ordered well its kind of all over the place.

WARNING. ITS REALLY LONG

A lot of people (especially since the movie) have been acting and bashing Rose Quartz/Pink Diamond and acting as though she's the cruelest villain in the universe.

And here's why I don't think she is the ANTAGONIST (a person who actively opposes someone or something)

And furthermore why she falls in line as a VILLAIN ( a character whose evil actions or motives are important to the plot.)

As well as a HERO (a person who is admired or idealized for courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities)

Let's start with her thought process and behavior.

A big thing I see is people saying "HER ABUSE DOESNT JUSTIFY WHAT SHE DID SHES STILL A MONSTER" and it's true. Abuse doesn't justify terrible behavior but it does to some degree explain it. Pink diamond was abused by the other diamonds.

She was constantly punished for acting out, which she did not only for attention from the other diamonds (as she seemed to be left alone quite often ) but also to make them happy (which indicates that they usually are not) and bring the family together. Not only did she act out, but when punished, she was forced to say she's sorry and that she was wrong, for simply trying to make her family happy and feel less miserable herself.

Pink was basically trained to follow homeworlds rules and not to question anything. And was forced to live a life she hated.

Yes. A lot of what Pink did and HOW she acted is due to how she was raised by the diamonds.

Diamonds are taught that THEY are the leaders. All gems and other life forms are lower than they are. And while Pink did, in fact, realize that killing the planets was wrong that may very well be all she realized. Gems weren't made to fuse with other gems, or to rebel, or to find their own path in life. All of those were things introduced by the rebels. The only reason the diamonds are getting closer to behaving and thinking better than they used to is that they had GUIDANCE. Steven helped show them a better right and wrong. He's helped them work to become better people for 2 years. And one may argue that pink/rose had thousands of years AWAY from. her abusers to become better. But the big thing she didn't have was guidance. She didn't have anyone tell her that those things weren't ok. The gems couldn't tell her that because everything they were doing is new to them. They grew and developed as people but couldn't possibly understand a stronger sense of right and wrong since it had never been questioned before and they'd never been told anything except for "Diamonds know best so we never question them" if you listen to Rose's song love like you she REALIZES SHE WAS TERRIBLE but only because she finally had someone to show her how her way thinking was resulting in terrible behavior and causing problems. "I always thought I might be bad now I'm sure that it's true, 'cus I think you're so good and I'm nothing like you. " GREG WAS HER GUIDANCE but she realized that even if she tried to be a better person. Shell always has a bit of her old self. And she may very well think That's holding her back. But she knew that steven, someone surrounded by people better than she ever could be. And by a strong loving father to guide him and make him kind and considerate and the amazing steven we know and love.

I know a lot of friends who have dealt with abuse. And they go on to behave all kinds if different ways. But this show depicts 2 very different ways people can behave after a childhood of abuse. Pink ran off and made her own life, but didn't necessarily become better. She continued living as she had, not knowing her behavior was wrong because she had never seen anything else or been told that it was wrong. She acted how she was taught to act by homeworld, and as for the rebels, no one recognized how bad it was because they lived the exact same way. They were stuck and had trouble growing as people because they didn't know how to grow. Steven taught them. That's why pearl lives for herself now instead of rose. How Amethyst takes pride and lives with the support of her friends and family boosting her up. He taught garnet that it's ok to not know everything, and sometimes you just have to focus on what you can change rather than what you cant. He taught them that fighting doesn't always fix the problem. Pink didn't have a steven until she realized how much she truly loved Greg. How he was different from other humans because he taught her and was willing to overlook the mistakes of her past so he could help her future. Only at the end of her life did she learn that she was wrong, and selfish, and not a good person. The diamonds acted JUST like this. They all dealt with Whites abuse. And realized. They behaved wrongly. Steven showed them that. They had guidance. Yes. Some people can realize the fault in their behavior on their own. But some cant. The diamonds needed guidance to take steps towards being better. And they're still struggling to learn. But they have someone to help them. So they're trying to fix their mistakes. So yes. Pink diamond was a bad person. And she did a lot of what she did not only because of the abuse. But because of how she was taught to think. This is not to void her of fault or to excuse the things she did. But I feel like it's unfair to call her evil and cruel and heartless. EVERY SINGLE VILLAIN in steven universe has had some layer of depth of deeper reasoning for what they did. And even if you consider pink to be the real villain. The same goes for her. Evil is not inherent, just like all terrible thoughts and behavior patterns. Like racism isn't inherent, or bias or prejudice. These are behavioral traits that are TAUGHT. If a killer raises a child. That child may not think killing is wrong. Pink was raised where she was an important person who had a right to everything she wanted and her desires took priority. Once something didn't serve a purpose she was expected to get rid of it. And gems were treated like objects. They were used for walls, decorative statues. Even aquamarine said topaz was of no use to her. And was prepared to get rid of her. we know this is wrong but they don't. Not all of them anyway. Even the off colors thought they were in the wrong for being themselves. It's not as if she did all of this because she wanted to hurt those around her. She did everything how she did because she was taught to think that way or behave that way. We become the people we are through nature AND nurture. But one can have more sway on someone depending on their upbringing. Abd abusive upbringing like pink endured is bound to drill homeworlds ideals into her head that much more. Especially since she tried to go against the grain and was punished constantly for trying to save things and be better.

And a lot of complaints I see is that "if she tried to explain her feelings to the diamonds none of this would happen" but everyone seems to forget. SHE DID TRY. In the episode where ruby and sapphire split and pearl explains everything she shows that pink diamond DID try. But was scolded for it. And was ignored. Just like how white ignored blue and yellow. She used all her authority but it meant nothing. She felt trapped and took an out. She tried to make a change. It started a spark that leads to a rebellion. Gems thinking for themselves. Being themselves. She did do good things. She tried to leave as much good as she had. But she didn't really know good and bad. She is still responsible for her failures and actions. But it's so so SO wrong to just slap a label on her calling her pure evil like she WANTED to do all that damage. Its the same as calling someone a hero despite any terrible things in their past that may have lead up to that. It's fine to classify her as an antagonist because yes. She caused problems for the main character and everyone around them. But it's not ok to ignore the meanings and cause behind it. We all knew pink/rose wasn’t A good person. But it's not ok to belittle her and act like her suffering and upbringing played no part.

It just upsets me when people ignore the history of someone. And I repeat THAT DOESN’T EXCUSE HER ACTIONS but that doesn't mean its ok to label someone based on their mistakes. No. Rose isn't a good person. She didn't know how to be. But that doesn't mean shes a cruel villainess. It means she was hurt early on and never fully recovered.

People who come from abuse can rise higher than their oast and tey to be better. And sometimes they can get stuck in their past and never learn from it. But that doesn't mean it's from a lack of wanting to be better. They may just not know-how.

This explains pinks behavior. And why she isn't an ANTAGONIST. She wasn't ACTIVELY trying to harm anyone or ruin anything. She even REFUSED TO SHATTER GEMS. She had a semblance of right and wrong and what was too far, but that's as far as it went. Additionally, by the time the show takes place, Pink is gone and can no longer actively do anything against steven or the crystal gems.

So. My thoughts on Pink/Rose

Not a good person and not justified in her actions, but came off the bedside of an abusive childhood and was never taught better. Just because she's done a lot of bad things doesn't mean bashing her is ok. Try and think of it like real life. Not everyone becomes better after abuse. And not everyone has the influences and tools needed to become better after abuse. We learn right and wrong from the people around us, so what if no one around us knows proper right and wrong?

Not looking to argue and you can reply with your thoughts if you want. But that doesn't really mean ill respond (im sure ill be flooded with people telling me why I'm wrong lol)

I would go on but I feel like this is too long already

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dracwife · 4 years

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it's 4am and im yearning don't look at me ,, i get sappy sometimes ok

If you were to ask Fenryr Theyj'a what his favorite part of Io was, well he'd likely be obligated to respond that it was one Asher Mir, considering the nature of their relationship. If you were to ask him his second favorite part of Io was, he'd likely look rather longingly towards the horizon, and express his sadness that the planet's beauty had been taken so forcefully by the constant warring as of late. His third, of course, would be the springs that dotted said landscape, and the relaxation and comfort that he'd come to associate with them.

Oh how he longed to be there now. Io had, after everything, become his new home. It was a rare occurrence - Guardians finding something akin to domesticity. It was a sense of belonging, and left Fenryr wondering so little of his past life that he almost forgot about it entirely and looked forward only to the future he was building to now.

He had been gone far too long, and had only a vague notion of when he'd be back. While he loved the company of his Ghost, it hardly compared in both nature and scale to being in the mere presence of Asher's personality.

In short, Fenryr missed him dearly. And he could only assume Asher felt the same, judging by the rather long, rambling transmission he was receiving at that moment. While he duly enjoyed hearing the Fragmented Researcher's rather grating, whiny voice (which, Fenryr reasoned with himself that he was certainly allowed to think because he loved Asher so excessively in either case) it would likely distract him from his mission and cause him yet another wave of sadness and yearning - he could only imagine Asher's disgusted groan at the phrase, sarcastically commenting on "How...endearing" the thought was - that he felt he did not need at that moment. He opted for a transcription instead. He found himself reading it bit by bit as he punched in the coordinates for Nessus, realizing just how far it was from Io. Apparently Asher had caught wind of the mission as well, likely from Ikora Rey after much nagging, as Fenryr began reading less of Asher's scientific ramblings that he tried so hard to at least pretend to understand and more of Asher's complaints about being alone on the Vex-infested planet they now called home, and just how far it was from the occupancy of the Exodus Black.

And I hear they have you across the galaxy again. I think I shall speak with the Vanguard about how frequently I find myself alone here, without your company. Though I suppose I shall tell them it is the lack of protection that frustrates me, that seems more a concern of theirs; I assume that subtly adding the fact that the Vex are growing restless here may change their priorities and, I hope, their insistence on dragging you away to some Hive-ridden planet every free moment you have.

The research is slowed without you to help, of course, but going well nonetheless. I can only assume your general lack of understanding of my work means you also understood nearly nothing I may have commented on earlier, but know that I am content with my progress since you've been gone. I'm not sure how much closer I am to the answer, but as of late I can feel myself beginning to believe that any progress, even if it is minor, is worth celebration - a skill that I believe you have taught me for the better…

I don't wish to worry you, but you are the only one I would dream of telling this: I fear I am growing worse with every passing day. I cannot say this for sure, but...My intuition tells me it won't be long before what little control I have left of my arm is completely gone.

As much disdain as I may hold for the Pity Parties people tend to throw themselves, perhaps this is a point I will bring up with Ikora privately. For my own wellbeing, and to cure this impeccably potent feeling of...Loneliness, I wish to have you here again.

In addition, I have decided that I shall concede with the idea that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Every day that you are not with me again I find myself growing more distracted in my downtime. Eating alone is no longer time to brainstorm, and lying alone does not help me theorize anymore. Instead, I am feeling rather upset that you are not with me, and find my mind wandering to the many things we could have been doing had you been there. I have had no less than three full hypothetical conversations with myself and the you that isn't here in the past forty-eight hours. I'm not sure if I should classify this new habit of mine as a nuisance, or a sign. I fear what it may say about me if it is the latter. You have changed me for the better, there is no doubt, but…

I'm afraid. My emotions distract from my work. I know this well, and yet I do not seem to care. My work should be my top priority, but alas my mind wanders to your touch, the sound of your voice, the comfort of your heartbeat every waking moment. I'm unsure if it is the consequence of...Such strong emotions that I feel, or rather my mind's response to what little progress I have made to save myself and therefore stand facing an inevitable death.

I will not lose hope yet. I learn more every day. There were times I would believe my efforts were in vain, and pondered if trying at all was a worthwhile use of my time. Now I strive for even the smallest victories, and celebrate them - to myself, of course - as I would a breakthrough.

I do this because I believe I wish to try all I can now. For you.

I await my Knight's return to me.

By the time Fenryr had read through it all, he had barely reached Nessus' orbit. With a new sense of urgency, he prepared himself for the mission at hand. He wished this to be as easy and quick as Zavala had promised.

For he too missed his Gensym Scribe, and wanted nothing more then but to return to him again.

#ship.the gensym's knight #dex.writes #selfship #self shipping #self ship community #f/o community #f/o

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amusementindustries · 4 years

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So I just recently realized that I’m probably asexual and have been maybe my whole life. Heteromantic asexual/demisexual. It makes so much sense so so much sense because I have never gotten why people get so horny over other people. Like I have crushes (well at least I did up until like 2011) and even then they were few and far between. And they were all way more romantic than sexual. Like I was never fine with hookups. Never had a crush where I was like “I just want to fuck him” right off the bat. Like I always had to convince myself that I loved him first which is weird I guess. I have had friends think I’m so weird for never really talking about sex or engaging in that type of conversation. It never appealed to me to talk about it or get super horny over just a picture of someone or just looking at someone like I have never felt that ever. And I always thought people were weirdly sex crazed when they acted like they were gonna die without having sex for a long period of time. Like I have a cousin who cannot deal with any level of celibacy at all and that was always so weird to me. I definitely felt differently built from my friends and family my whole life because of their seemingly desperate need for sex and my lack there of.

Of course I have had sex. And minus a few weird experiences. I mostly enjoy it. I like some porn and I masterbate. But I never just see a person (make or female) in the wild and think “ I wanna fuck them” like I’m pretty sure I’ve never had that thought. I have tons of sex fantasies like I think about sex all the time but very rarely with real people that I know. It’s always some fanfic version of a tv character I fixated on or some imaginary lover who is an amalgamation of various people I’ve known and total fantasy. My fantasies are almost always in some other time period or other world like actual sci-fi world never real life or a realistic scenario. I’ve even had weird paraphilia for stars, planets, and stuff like that. The few times I have fantasized about people I know. It was always years after our relationship was over and in my mind I morphed them into completely different people just using their body as a shell for the fantasty. Like dating has been so hard for me because I’m honestly just not sexually attracted to anyone. And even when I did date it was never out of sexual attraction. I always started with their brain to look for some romance and if the sexual attraction came at all it was only after I was wooed romantically. Looks were never super important and I’ve dated many “types” because it was always about romance.

Sometimes I hate the idea of sex and I hate hearing people talk about it but I wouldn’t go so far as to say im sex repulsed. I’m mostly sex positive but usually hearing people I know talk about sex is similar to nails on a chalk board, like I just don’t like it. I don’t want to take part. But I don’t mind watching movies with sex or listening to podcast etc about sexual stuff. I’m actually very sexually educated and curious about a lot of sexual topics. But casual conversation about being involved in the sex act is just a cringepocalypse for me.

It’s funny because I think for most of my adulthood I was a “sexy” person. Like I just naturally gave off sexual energy that I was not aware of. Then my asexuality made me unaware of sexual cues so I frequently seemed “flirtatious” when I had no intention of flirting at all. I was just being me behaving freely but people assumed I was flirting because I didn’t have a filter there. Like I assume if I had normal sexual attraction I would have a filter or a switch I would turn off and on to funnel my sexuality to those who I wanted to fuck. But because I didn’t really want to fuck anyone, I had no need for such a filter. I just allowed my actions to just be whatever they were and because I was “sexy” people just assumed I was a flirty hoe which I never actually was. Then at some point I just started being a bit of a hoe because I wanted to be normal and didn’t know what was wrong with me and so I just started performing the script. But it didn’t last because it was too unnatural and painful eventually.

Mmm Idk maybe I have a multitude of anxieties about sex stemming from childhood abuse and constant verbal abuse and rejection from potential sex partners throughout my teens and adulthood that has forced this coping mechanism of turning off or modifying my sex sense. I honestly don’t know. Maybe I’m more normal than I realize and a lot of people are this way?? It really doesn’t seem like it. I’ve felt like a weirdo my whole life about this but I could never really put my finger on it until I stumbled on a video on YouTube about it and it all kind of clicked. Like I often wonder if I’ll ever have sex again but the thought of the process of getting to that point causes so much anxiety. Like dealing with people at all causes so much anxiety and I think that 60% of my asexuality is just compounded social anxiety and a paralyzing fear of intimacy. Or not. I have no idea.

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acemeaskipper · 5 years

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okay this is so much longer than I thought it’d be, but okay. i started thinking of this au where instead of joining red dwarf to get back to earth, Lister joins to get away from earth and all the bad memories there. He works a little harder, understands Rimmer a bit more, and unfortunately, doesn’t have Frankenstein.

and this is a little fic about Lister’s first day on red dwarf and his meeting with Rimmer. It’s lowkey shippy, but only a little. Yeah, enjoy.

A star exploded the day Lister left earth. The supernova had reflected multicoloured on the inside walls of Red Dwarf, nearly blinding him.

He wasn’t sure if it was a sign of some sort, but regardless, it had been an interesting way to start his new job. More interesting than his room at least.

It was both bigger and smaller than he thought it’d be, and painfully plain. If only they were allowed to paint the walls, or get a nice rug or carpet, Lister mused, then it may look a little less like a sci-fi hell. Oh well, he was sure if he covered the walls in enough photos and posters it could look a little bit more like home. It wasn’t as if he was going to be here long anyway, he could handle a boring room.

He tightened his grip on his suitcase, shifted the strap of his backpack a little then walked in.

“Hello, Dave. You like the room?”

“Agh!”

Lister jumped and spun around to the source of the voice. The face of a tired-looking man on a screen. Ah, right. The AI, Holly. He briefly wondered why they had decided to make their AI look so exhausted, but shrugged the thought away. People were weird, what the hell.

“Uh, hi. Holly, righ’?”

“That’s right, my dude. So?”

“It’s alrigh’,” Lister shrugged, “I guess.”

“Bit boring, ain’t it?” Holly agreed.

“Yeah, it is. Is it at least warm?”

“Sometimes.”

“Great, great…”

“Oh, and heads up, your roommate is coming soon. Good luck.”

“Uh, thanks?”

“Don’t mention it,” Holly nodded, “Catch you later, dude.”

“Yeah…”

Holly disappeared, and Dave couldn’t help but snicker. Dude? They hadn’t mentioned that about Holly in the leaflet. Maybe it was intentional, a strange surprise for new workers. He supposed that was one way to prepare people for the weirdness of space, having the AI who looked like a middle-aged man going around say ‘dude’.

He shook his head and moved closer to the bunk beds, looking them over.

It was honestly hard to tell which one was already occupied, both beds were both neat, tidy and lacking in any personality whatsoever. There was one colourful timetable stuck on the wall next to the bottom bunk, however, and Lister concluded it was probably taken.

It seemed strange how bare the walls were, though. No pictures of family or friends, no posters, no nothing. Had this person only just moved in too? No, he knew for a fact this person had already been here a year or two at least. And gone through six roommates in the span of three months. A slightly daunting fact, but hopefully, the number would stay at six.

He slung his bags onto the top bunk, decided to unpack them later… maybe. The week was young after all, he’d have plenty of time to do that later.

Lister sat down on one of the chairs in the room and took a deep breath. Hardly nothing had happened, and already he was exhausted. His eyes ached, his limbs felt heavy, and he let out a yawn. A nap would be nice… but snoring probably wasn’t the best way to introduce yourself to your new roommate, so Lister held off.

He ran his fingers over his hair and tried to think of something to keep himself away. Maybe he should go back to dreadlocks, he thought, that’d been fun back when he was a teen. But. But he didn’t have anyone to help him with them anymore.

He’d left them all behind, just like they had left him.

Of course, he was alive when they had left, and they were all just bones now. So maybe it wasn’t a fair comparison… Lister hoped his friend Camille would remember to put flowers on all the graves every month, just like he’d asked. They probably wouldn’t, always too caught up in the drama that was their Casablanca-love affair to think of much else, but he could hope.

Lister sighed and slouched in his chair. Nah, his hair was fine as it was. Loose and tied back. He looked fine. Fine.

Then, the door opened.

The person on the other side didn’t walk in immediately, too busy snapping at someone Lister couldn’t see, to notice the door had opened.

A tall, skinny white guy with pale skin, and light brown curls that had been clearly forced into a flat and dull style. Every inch of his body screamed ‘tense’ as he barked insults, face going ever so slightly red.

Ah, what luck.

Lister stood up and waited until the yelling had stopped to speak.

“You’re Howie’s brother, aren’t you?”

The guy’s snapped in Lister’s direction, and Lister had the urge to apologise and slowly back away.

“’Howie’? The man repeated.

Yep, that was definitely him, Lister knew. He’d only met one other person before with such an obnoxiously posh voice, which he had been told was common on that planet.

“Sorry, Howard,” Lister apologised, “You’re Arnold Rimmer, right?”

Rimmer frowned even more.

“Yes, I am.”

Lister walked towards him, and with a big smile, held out his hand.

“I’m David Lister.”

“Oh.”

Rimmer’s frown dropped into something less ‘I will fucking kill you’ and more ‘ew, there’s a dead bug in my drink’. He did shake Lister’s hand at least.

“Howard’s told us about you,” Rimmer continued, “Poor little orphan boy from earth somehow manages to get into Io’s Space Corps training program on a scholarship, truly a success story for the ages.”

Lister twisted his lip but said nothing. Howard had warned him that his little brother could put a lemon to shame with how bitter he was, but Lister had been hoping Rimmer wouldn’t be this bad from the get-go.

“Doesn’t really mean anything though,” Lister shrugged, “Now tha’ I’m here, as a third blood technician.”

Was it too much to ask that he was at least made a second technician with all his qualifications? Maybe he was just being prideful, but he’d thought he enough skills to be more than a vending machine fixer.

But at that, Rimmer pulled himself to stand straighter and smiled. He looked a lot better now, Lister mused. Almost handsome.

“Third technician, aye? Well, don’t you worry, miladdo-”

“Mi-whatto?”

“-you’re in good hands with me.”

“Huh?”

“If you’re a third technician and my roommate, you’re likely to be working the Z Shift with me, as your immediate superior officer,” Rimmer explained.

Lister gave what he hoped looked like a real smile.

“Great.”

“Still though, I don’t see why on Io you would leave the Space Corps,” Rimmer mused.

“Because it’s filled with pompous, trust-fund pricks who like to spend their evenings bragging about how big their guns are.”

Also, it was a lot of work. A lot of hard work. A month in and Lister had already been ready to drop. He wasn’t too surprised when a drunk Howard had blabbed about the high suicide rate there.

Rimmer let out a sharp laugh at that, then quickly shut his mouth and blinked. He almost looked surprised. But he quickly shook his head and moved on.

“Yes, but it’s the Space Corps! It’s where you go if you want a career in space!”

“I don’t want a career; I just want to get away from Earth.”

Earth was a place were babies were abandoned under pub tables, were parents disappeared and left you a crying kid, and grans died just when you needed them most. Where people broke your heart and laughed, where people called you stupid and said you’d never amount to anything, so suck it up, buttercup.

Rimmer pursed his lips.

“I supposed I could understand wanting to get away from that horrid little planet, but really… giving up a job on the Space Corps for this?”

Lister shrugged.

“I just want to get some cash, find a nice planet with a nice beach, then settle down. Maybe open a farm, get a cat, sheep, horses, then spend the rest of my days doing whatever the hell I want.”

Rimmer didn’t seem to get it.

“But you could have been an officer! Howard said so, and he’s not one to give out praise like that.”

“Why’d you want to be an officer? They’re all smegheads, I mean, just look at your brothers.”

That earned another out of Rimmer, one that wasn’t as sharp and lasted a little longer. There, that was better, Lister grinned. Not the prettiest laugh ever, but he didn’t sound half bad.

“Fair point,” Rimmer said.

And before he could continue with ‘but still’, Lister began speaking again.

“The though’ of ending up like Howard could put anyone off wanting to be an officer, honestly.”

“Really? You didn’t like him? He seemed awfully fond of you…”

“Hid it,” Lister shrugged, “He was my tutor and said he’d help me get here, so couldn’t bitch about him too much. Wanted to though, I never had any free time thanks to ‘im. Almost every night I had to drag him out of the bar and to ‘is room.”

“What?!” Rimmer exclaimed.

“Yeah, don’t think he had any friends, so he’d bribe me into fetching ‘im. Used to buy cigarettes off me too. Dunno why he wouldn’ jus’ buy them himself, a lot of other officers smoked too…”

Slowly, a giant (slightly mad-looking) smile grew on Rimmer’s face.

“Really? He told mother he had a ton of friends.”

Lister wondered if he should mention it. On the one hand, it could lead to Rimmer freaking out (Howard had mentioned that Rimmer was a bit… neurotic), but on the other… it didn’t seem right not to mention it.

“Must be invisible then, ‘cause he was always alone when he went out… he told me a lot about you when he was drunk. The things him and the other two used to do to you.”

The smile dropped off Rimmer’s face.

“Oh.”

Lister risked it and gave Rimmer a pat on the arm. Rimmer looked at it like it was a radioactive butterfly; strange and possibly dangerous.

“Pretty shit childhood, huh?” Lister said. Rimmer stayed silent. “Mine was pretty fucked up too, so we match.”

Lister gave him a smile, then turned around to climb up onto his bunk bed.

Rimmer seemingly forgot to act like a human being for a few seconds, staring blankly into space while stood completely still. He shook it off a second later.

“No shoes on the bed,” he snapped.

“My feet aren’t on the bed though,” Lister pointed out.

Rimmer’s face went a little red.

“I- just take them off!”

“Okay, okay! They’re off!”

Lister kicked them off, leaving them to fall down loudly in a muddy pile next to the ladder. Rimmer frowned and glared at the shoes.

“And now you’ve made a mess, wonderful.”

“You better get used to tha’, I’m a bit of a slob,” Lister chuckled, “Oh, and I snore too. Sorry. I do have a sleep cpap machine, but it got broke on the way here. They said I’ll have to wait a day or two for a new one.”

“So, I’m not getting any sleep either, splendid.”

“I can’ help it.”

“Why don’t they put people like you in a room of your own? Or at least with other snoring smegheads,” Rimmer muttered.

“Because tha’d be smart,” Lister snorted.

Rimmer looked a little happier. Right, compliments were the way to go if he wanted to survive this job. Lister could handle that; he could be a good suck-up if the situation called for it.

“Sounds like they could do with someone like you as an officer,” Lister said, “Might come up with some actual smart ideas.”

Rimmer lit up like the supernova and Lister’s heart fluttered a little.

Oh.

Handsome. Rimmer could be very handsome, it seemed. That was nice. Lister sent him back a lazy grin, revelling in the soft pink that settled on Rimmer’s cheeks. It’d been a while since he’d dated a man, Lister noted, maybe it was time to try again.

“I-I-,” Rimmer began. But then he stopped and shook his head. “Are you sure you’re even old enough to be here?”

Lister rolled his eyes.

“Course I am, man. Not like I could really trick anyone into thinkin’ I’m older than I am with this face, can I?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Rimmer agreed.

Lister wondered why Rimmer would care about his age- oh.

Rimmer coughed and looked away.

“Well, um, have you been given a tour of the ship yet?”

He had.

“No.”

Rimmer turned back around and smirked a little.

“Come on then, get your boots back on and I’ll show you around.”

“Oh, thanks, man.”

Lister grinned and hoped down. As he put his boots on, he could feel Rimmer’s eyes on him. Yes, he decided, as he tied on his already tied laces for a few seconds later, this could be fun.

#i did this instead of working on my original story hope u enjoy #red dwarf #Dave Lister #arnold rimmer

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niamh-erin-colclough · 4 years

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Covid-19: A Diabetic’s story

***(This is another online story I have written for my portfolio on the current situation we are in. I used this as a blog post also for my other blog site. This is one of my favourites.)***

This was not how I expected to be spending my spring and summer to say the least. Feels like yesterday that I was off to meet my friends, hugging them, having fun and planning all the amazing things we were going to do together that summer… taking every laugh for granted.

I’m 20 years old, and I look and feel healthier than ever, however this is not the case for me. I have type 1 diabetes. My diabetes has never really caused me too many major problems, I’ve had my ups and downs over the years with it, as any diabetic will know, its a bitch… but it has never truly effected me until now. Physically, mentally and emotionally since this outbreak I have been drained.

Since the day I was diagnosed my mom has always told me:

“Diabetes lives with you my darling, you don’t live with it.”

I always listened to this, I never allowed myself to let an illness that was out of my control, take over my life and stop me from doing the things i want to do. And even though over the years I have been in some scary situations due to my lack of care (being diagnosed as a teenager it was hard at first to accept that i was going to have to live with this for the rest of my life) but never have I been as scared as I am now…

Covid-19 is scary for everyone to say the least, the world hasn’t faced this kind of epidemic for years, and never have i experienced anything even remotely similar to this in my 20 years on the planet. As a young woman everybody keeps telling me “you’ll be fine, you’re young, you’re fit and healthy!” little do they know that I suffer with a long term health condition that has changed my immune system immensely. At the start of this whole debacle, I tried so hard not to worry myself, this was until I saw an article online about who will be most effected by the virus. Being a journalist and having a thirst to know everything about everything I clicked on the article, something i now wish I never did.

“The people most at risk of fatality are the elderly, pregnant women and people with diabetes and heart conditions.” — NHS

This was the moment i became truly scared. I had felt fear before, the kind of fear when you watch a horror movie or taking off in an airplane, but this was a different kind of fear. I felt my chest tighten and my heart racing, i couldn’t catch my breath. I remember closing the article immediately and just sitting on the edge of my bed with thousands of thoughts running through my head. I looked back on the past five years on my life and how little I’d looked after myself and my diabetes, being a young women I had started to resent it and almost pretend it wasn’t there for a long period of my life. I thought about my HBA1C levels (the test they do to check your average blood sugar reading over a year) and how they had been sky high for the majority of time I’d been diagnosed. I thought about the effect this will have had on my immune system, diabetes effects your immune system even if you have it controlled perfectly…and mine was far from perfect.

But I remember the main thing that I couldn’t stop thinking about was my family. Diabetes runs in every generation of my family, my mom, my granddad, his granddad, everyone. When I thought about this I didn’t really care about what might happen to me anymore, I cared about what might happen to them.

Two days after this, and after two days of panicking in my apartment in Cardiff — self isolating already — I decided I’d rather be at home with my family through this awful time and I wanted to go back while I still had the chance. I never really know why it is, maybe because I’m a journalist or maybe just because of who I am as a person and have been raised to be, but I’m a realist, I see things for how they are and even though at this point bars, clubs, restaurants where still open, and people were still living their normal lives, I somewhat knew how serious this was quickly going to turn.

Due to my diabetes, me and my family decided to start self isolating anyway, leaving the house as little as possible to protect ourselves. This was scary in itself and all of my friends where still out and about living their normal lives. I felt like screaming “WHY IS NO ONE TAKING THIS SERIOUSLY!!” I couldn’t get over how selfish some people where being, my friends would say to me “well I’m young, its not going to effect me.” What about the other people it will effect? What about me?!

As things rapidly declined so did I, mentally and emotionally I was becoming drained. The constant worry and fear was giving me extreme anxiety and ultimately this was messing up my diabetes even more than usual. My mom had to start ordering mass amounts of insulin, as it wasn’t just me who used it, so did she and so did my granddad. Seeing how worried she was for me broke my heart, and for some reason — even though I knew it wasn’t my fault — I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt that there was this added stress that I was causing because they love and care about me so much.

I had to stop thinking this way though, I suffer with clinical depression and I can easily slip into a very dark place if I’m not careful. I had to make sure this wouldn’t happen, I had just managed to pull myself out of a dark episode and refused to go back to that place again. I was told because of my diabetes that I would have to stay in isolation for at least 3 months, and being someone who suffers with mental health issues the idea of this terrified me more than the idea of getting unwell with the virus itself. So I started to force myself to change my mind set. Instead of being worried all the time and thinking about the awful, scary things that could happen to me and my family, i started changing these thoughts to remembering how lucky and blessed I actually am… Every morning I started to count my blessings instead of my afflictions:

№1 — I’m home, with my wonderful parents who love me more than life itself

№2 — I have a beautiful home, with lots of space and lots of love in it.

№3 — I have a dad who would do absolutely anything to make sure I’m happy, not only during this awful time but in life in general.

№4 — I have a mom who I am so close to, so close that I can tell her anything. Anyway Im feeling she is there for me.

№5 — The most important… Im alive. I have a roof over my head, Im still waking up every morning with air in my lungs and blood in my veins… I’m alive.

I started speaking these to myself in the mirror every morning, to cope with my anxiety and dark thoughts. I could sit here and end this blog post by saying that its worked miraculously and that I have no horrible thoughts anymore and everything is fine, but that would be a lie. I still wake up in the middle of the night panicking, I still cry randomly throughout the day -sometimes more than once- when things get to much, I still worry myself sick, but I also now am reminded of just how lucky I still actually am. There are some people out there at the moment who have hardly any hope at all, who aren’t as lucky as me to have a wonderful loving family and a beautiful home to go through this traumatic time in. And sometimes i have to step back, wake up and smell the coffee.

I will get through this, my family will get through this, we will all get through this.

“Diabetes lives with you my darling, you don’t live with it.” — Wendy Colclough

#covid_19 #diabetes #health #mental heath support

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saccharineomens · 4 years

Note

I want to know all the answers from your 100 question meme

Something you find romantic? Answer whichever #'s you feel comfortable answering; I want to know all your inner musings 😝

cat why do you do this to me

i’ll be sticking them below a readmore, then!

1. Is a kiss considered cheating? Yes! Unless you’ve communicated with your partner that it’s okay.

2. Have you ever faked an orgasm? Nope

3. If you could have one superpower, what would it be? Hmmm this is a really hard decision. I usually say telepathy, but I like shapeshifting, too. I loved the Animorphs books as a kid, even though I didn’t read them all.

4. Do you think you are going to be rich in 7-8-9 years? Monetarily? Nah. But I like to think I’ll still have strong, rich friendships and I think I’ll have enough money to live comfortably alone.

5. Tell us some funny drunk story. I just don’t really have one rip. Drunk people are hilarious but normally I’m the DD. I’ve got several pleasant stories, though! There was a time me and my best friend went to a pub and drank cider and played board games and video games until closing time. Afterwards we stopped at an Insomnia cookies, a storm caused the electricity to go out, and we got a half dozen cookies for free. (well, I felt guilty, so I left them a very large tip.)

6. Why are you no longer together with your ex? I was going through college, it was long distance, and I felt he deserved better. We keep in touch, though.

7. If you had to choose one way to die, what would it be? Well, painlessly, of old age, in my sleep, of course. But if that’s not an option, out of all the ways of dying, freezing to death seems the most humane. You just get tired, cold, and sleepy, and then you just...don’t wake up.

8. What are your current goals? Graduate, mostly. Long-term I’d like to live with friends in a big house and my cat, and have enough free time to garden and craft at my leisure, and have the ability to travel wherever I’d like. I’d like to work on a game or movie I’m really passionate about, and I’d love to become a director someday.

9. Do you like someone? I mean, I like a lot of people, but I assume this means romantically. So, kind of? I find a lot of people attractive and have a ‘if they wanted to date I’d be down’ feeling, but I don’t have serious feelings for anybody specific.

10. Who was the last person to disappoint you? Hmmm I have a terrible memory. Myself, perhaps? I have a really hard time with getting up when my alarms go off. Sleep inertia’s a big problem for me. This has led to me being late to classes and rushing to get ready, which is stressful.

11. Do you like your body? Ehhhh. I guess. It could be improved, like by not having health issues.

12. Can you keep a diet? Ha! No.

13. If the whole world listened to you right now, what would you say? I hope you have a wonderful day. The universe doesn’t care about us so be excellent to each other!

14. Do you work? Constantly, every day. I work to learn new things, accomplish school assignments, make money, feed myself...All my life is is working, right now.

15. If you could choose only one food to eat to the rest of your life, what would it be? Salad! Because anything can be a salad. Tuna salad, fruit salad, salad with salmon...

16. Would you get a tattoo? Oh, absolutely. The only reason I don’t have any is because of money. I have like five small ideas and one very large one that i’d like across my back.

17. Something you don’t mind spending all your money on? Food, my family, and my friends.

18. Can you drive? Yes. Do I have a license? No.

19. When was the last time someone told you you were beautiful? Probably sometime in the past month by my mother, but she’s just about the only person who does.

20. What was the last thing you cried for? asdfjal;ksdjfs it was Treasure Planet. Jim and Silver’s relationship is just [clutches chest] so beautiful.

21. Do you keep a journal? Sort of, sporadically.

22. Is life fun? Yes!

23. Is farting in front of people irrelevant? I mean, I prefer you excuse yourself, but more or less yeah.

24. What’s your dream car? My sib got this really nice Prius used at a good price, and it has a lot of room and it’s a hybrid, so Nice. I don’t tend to pay much attention to cars, as long as they’re comfortable and low-waste.

25. Are grades in school important? I admit that they’re important to me, but that’s something I have to unlearn. My worth isn’t determined by other people.

26. Describe your crush. Ugh. I’m bi, guys. I get crushes on people all the time, every day. Saw this really pretty redhead in the cafeteria over a month ago, and I saw her again yesterday. She’s a couple inches taller than me and has really pretty curly hair, but I didn’t really, like, stare, so I couldn’t describe her face well past ‘cute nose’.

27. What was the last book/movie that really impressed you? Nothing jumps to mind. I guess I’m still falling over myself after seeing Mad Max back in like 2015, that was just the coolest experience ever. I find delight in just about every movie I watch, though. The second Jumanji-sequels movie was just as fun and amazing as the first. Klaus was just incredible in so many ways.

28. What was your last lie? I...really just do not remember. Probably telling myself “I’m gonna do my laundry today” a few days ago? Whereas I DID do my laundry today so HA

29. Dumbest lie you ever told? I saved this question for last and it’s late and I honestly can’t remember anything, asdjls sorry. My memory’s awful y’all.

30. Is crying in front of people embarrassing? Oh absolutely. I mean it wouldn’t be if they weren’t uncomfortable with it, but they always are.

31. Something you did and you are proud of? I did my laundry today? washed dried folded and everything. I also braved the nighttime neighborhood around my school to solo a Pokemon raid, which was cool. I’m proud of my animation done at the end of the last semester, and of how my teddy bear modelling is doing this week.

32. What’s your favourite cocktail? How am I supposed to choose this? How can you ask me to choose this? I’d have to line them all up and try one by one, honestly, before I could tell you.

33. Something you are good at? I’m pretty good at drawing anatomy and expressions, I think. I’m good at baking/cooking, although I lack creativity in the kitchen. I also think I’m a pretty good listener, and a good friend?

34. Do you like small kids? Most of the time!

35. How are you feeling right now? Frankly, a little drained with all these questions, but determined to finish them. I’m a little hungry. I’ve got a lot on my mind, and wish I was doing homework, but I also can’t get myself to do it right now.

36. What would you name your daughter/son? Not sure! Every once in a while I’ll be like “ooh, that’d be a great name” and then don’t remember to write it down. Besides, I plan on adopting, and most kiddos already have names.

37. What do you need to be happy? Money, friends, family, good food, and a place to explore.

38. Is there some you want to punch in the face right now? Not particularly. No one other than, well. The rich people I’m pretty sure everyone knows I dislike.

39. What was the last gift you received? Well, anything my mom cooks for me is a gift, but the last Proper gift was from my friend @ wefflebugs , who got me a blu-ray copy of Into the Spiderverse and some coffee for Christmas c:

40. What was the last gift you gave? I gave my sibling @ aconfusedbird a keychain of one of the two Bubble Bobble dragons and kept the other for myself, for their birthday. Handmade from Perler beads. We’d play that game for ages as kids, and we always fought over who’d be the blue one.

41. What was the last concert you went to? I think it was The Shins? They were so awesome!

42. Favourite place to shop at? Well, I quite like Target. But I also adore small resale shops. They always have some really awesome things hiding there.

43. Who inspires you? Oogh, a lot of people. Like a million and a half artists I’ve met online, ones I only know their screenname for, inspire me to get better at art. James Baxter and Sergio Pablos inspire me to get better at animation. Wefflebugs’ art always has such lovely colors, which I adore. featherdragon15′s art has gotten a lot better lately, and that inspires me to keep working hard too! Not to mention they’re working for nasa which is rad af, and also inspires me to keep working toward my dreams. My sibling aconfusedbird inspires me a Lot in a lot of personal ways, like to be more kind to myself and to keep moving forward. My mom inspires me to keep gardening. roachpatrol/roach-works inspired me to get into welding, lizardlicks inspired me into wanting chickens and a small homestead. My teachers inspire me to keep working hard in school.

44. How old were you when you first got drunk? 19, I think? I’ve only gotten properly drunk once. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat another boiled peanut, but other than that it wasn’t a problem lol.

45. How old were you when you first got high? I haven’t, actually. I don’t have a reason not to or anything, but it’s just never felt like the right vibe yanno?

46. How old were you when you first had sex? I guess it really depends on your definition. Personally, I’d say I haven’t yet.

47. When was your first kiss? Well, I played spin the bottle when I was seventeen, which was technically my first kiss, but if that doesn’t count then it was about a week before I turned eighteen, and I kissed the guy who’d become my first boyfriend.

48. Something you want to do until the end of this year? Play video games....I wish I had infinite time to play video games and watch movies and draw and just...enjoy my time on earth, you know? Without feeling like it had a deadline.

49. Is there something in the past you wish you hadn’t done? I try not to live with regrets.

(50 is ‘post a selfie’ but im on a computer)

51. Who are you most comfortable around? Either aconfusedbird or featherdragon15, i think.

52. Name one thing that terrifies you. asdkfjal;sdf i’ve been listening to too much magnus archives and got recommended to ‘not be too scared of one thing’ if i want to avoid the creatures, so uh. hard to decide. I guess I’m scared of...hm. people who just lack the ability to create bonds with people? people who don’t care about other living things. humans can be fucking terrifying.

53. What kind of books do you read? Oh, just about anything. Fantasy, realistic fiction, romance, mysteries, thrillers, scifi...all are great. I didn’t used to enjoy nonfiction but it really depends on the nonfiction.

54. What would you tell your 12 year old self? You’re going to have a best friend someday, and it will be everything you wanted. Things with your mother will improve when you’re in your last few years of high school. You’re going to become a great artist.

55. What is your favourite flower? Not sure! I like many. There was this one flower i found in high school that smelled incredible, but I’ve no idea what it was. I should find it again.

56. Any bad habits you have? ...Well. Not waking up when my alarm goes off is pretty annoying. My procrastination in general’s frustrating. And, well, just between you, me, and the rest of the internet, (tw: self harm) my trichotillomania causes me constant distress and anxiety.

57. What kind of people are you attracted to? People who want to learn new things, are kind and compassionate, respect me, and have a good sense of humor. Someone I can be adventurous with.

58. What was the last thing you cried for? Well, i answered a similar question earlier, so I’ll answer for the second most recent time I cried. I was in Pennsylvania, the day I had to fly home, and when I went to check in for my flight, all the seats were taken, and I needed to pay for an upgrade if I wanted to guarantee a spot on the flight. This wouldn’t be a huge problem, except that for both of my flights to get home, an upgrade cost $70. And seventy dollars was a big chunk out of my budget for, you know, food. So I cried out of stress and frustration with the airport companies for charging me seventy bucks for ten more inches of legroom that I didn’t want nor need.

59. Is there something you don’t eat? Some food that truly disgust you? Not really! In terms of what’s normally accepted as “food” in American society, that is. I don’t care much for worms or insects. Other than that, I’m interested enough to try almost anything once.

60. Are you in love? In love? No. Am I full of love? Yes, for many, many, many things.

61. Something you find romantic? Oh man, anything could be romantic if done by someone I care for. I think gentleness is romantic. Quality time is my love language, so if my partner cancelled plans to spend time with me, that’d be romantic. I find romance in trying new things and going to new places.

62. How long was your longest relationship? Four months or so. It’s the only relationship I’ve been in, though, and I hadn’t intended for it to go past summer, so that was longer than I’d even planned on haha.

63, 64. What are 3 things that irritate you about the same sex? Opposite sex? Uhhh kind of hard to answer this one. I mean, i hate the culture in which men are raised to be, but I’ve heard that ‘male’ and ‘female’ brains aren’t particularly predisposed to anything in particular? Like, both men and women are capable of emotional intelligence and compassion, it’s just that our culture doesn’t encourage it in men.

65. What are you saving money for? Food, college. I might treat myself to a school trip to Disney, but I don’t think I have the budget rn. As a student I’m kind of coasting by on the bare minimum rn, I don’t have anything i CAN save up for.

66. How would you describe your bad side? I mostly just avoid you or try to not spend time with you.

67. Are you actually a good person? Why? I think I am. I care about other people and try to make other people’s lives easier and happier. I try every day to become more sensitive to other perspectives. I do what I can to benefit the earth for those who will come after me.

68. What are you living for? Ooh, deep stuff. I’m living for helping other people. I’m living for my friends and family.

69 (nice). Have you ever done anything illegal? Pfft, guys, jaywalking is illegal. So yes. I’ve also drank while underage before. But nothing really big, no.

70. Do you like your body? Wait a second. This was number 11, too. Well, I guess I’ll change it to What don’t you like about your body? Which is my under-chin. It’s kind of a double chin, kind of not. But while most things I could change about my body, I don’t think I could change that without surgery. And yeah, I’ve thought about it. Not that I have any of the cash for it. I also wish I didn’t have (tw: self-harm) trichotillomania, so I’d have more eyelashes and eyebrows.

71. Have you ever made someone feel bad about themselves intentionally? I think I probably have, to douchebags. Like “hey, that’s inappropriate”.

72. Ever sent nudes? Nope!

73. Have you ever cheated on someone? God, no. Big #1 no no for me.

74. Favourite candy? I RECENTLY DISCOVERED TAKE 5′S AND REESES HAVE COMBINED INTO ONE GLORIOUS CANDY BAR, SO, THAT.

75. Is there a blog you visit every day, or almost every day? Tag it! Agh, okay. @ aconfusedbird, @ busket, @ loreweaver-universe, @ orange-plum. The four blogs I don’t actually follow, but whose blogs I visit every day. It changes around every few years. It used to be a different bunch back when I first got on tumblr. I really have no idea why I haven’t followed them. Habit, I suppose? Also, it still won’t let me tag my sib for some reason. (nvm I removed the tags, i don’t want to bother them)

76. Do you play any computer games? What is your favourite game? lmao uh, that’s kind of an understatement. I can’t list all my favorite games, but I’m very fond of The Last of Us. I have played. So many video games. I’ll chat about them anytime!

77. Favourite TV series? Avatar: The Last Airbender, I think. It’s really hard to top that.

78. Are you religious? Does God exist? Not really religious, no. I do think that there’s probably a god out there that sparked the Big Bang. I don’t really follow the Christian God because despite what every church service said, I never felt like He loved me. Jesus was a super cool guy, though. If there’s a god out there, I think they pretty much keep to themselves. Maybe have some fun watching creation, but don’t really interact with it at all.

79. What was the last book you read? Did it impress you and why? asdkfj;as i don’t remember. probably my textbook Directing the Story by Francis Glebas? It was a pretty cool book about moviemaking.

80. What do you think about vegetarianism/veganism? I’ve reblogged a lot on the subject. I respect those who practice it, but it can cause a lot of environmental harm. In theory, it’s not bad!

81. How long have you been on Tumblr? Like eight years or so? Maybe nine? wild. I visited blogs daily before the number got high enough i was like ‘okay i’ll just make an account’.

82. Do you like Chinese food? Oh, yes!

83-85. McDonalds or Subway? Vodka or whiskey? Alcohol or drugs? Subway, whiskey and alcohol.

86. Ever been out of your province/state/country? Yes, yes, and no!

87. Meaning behind your blog name? I’ve had this one for many years now. I really like the word ‘saccharine’ -- inspired by @ saccharinesylph back in the old days -- and i couldn’t just name myself ‘saccharine’, so i needed something else. and I was pretty big into Good Omens at that time, and I was like ‘haha! saccharine, good, omens. saccharine omens!’ Plus, it feels like a very positive and comforting name, and I strive to be a comforting person.

88. What are you scared of? ok i def answered this moving on

89. Last time you were insulted? uhhhhhhhhh no idea. oh, wait! i know. i was getting graded on my performance at my job late last year and i disagreed with the grade my boss gave me. It was like ‘person shows considerable care of their community and goes above and beyond to educate others’ and i was like ‘oh yeah that’s, like, my whole Thing, my whole Goals and Personality and Ideals’ and then my boss came in and was like ‘2/4′ and i was like ‘wtf??’ Apparently she felt that i just wasn’t really applying that part of myself to my job, and i was like ‘you serious? i’m doing a lot!’ but also she’s my boss.

90. Most traumatic experience? A series of emotionally/mentally abusive things my mom did during my childhood. It’s definitely had the longest lasting effects of any trauma. Permanent anxiety problems, ptsd, my self harm, the whole shebang. Don’t worry, though, like. Things are way better between us, and she’s apologized many times.

91. Perfect date idea? Going on a hike! Maybe walking on a beach. Just spending time together and talking. Eating some delicious food. Spending the entire day with each other, then curling up and cuddling at home and watching a movie. then talking some more. lots of handholding and kisses. im a super hopeless romantic.

92. Favourite app on your phone? the internet, ofc lmao. But other than that I use Animal Crossing Pocket Camp and Pokemon Go an awful lot.

93. What colour are the walls in your room? At school a boring white, although I’ve taped some art up. At home a really pretty light blue color that I did all myself.

94. Do you watch Youtube? Who is your favourite youtuber? I do! And I like so many channels, honestly. I really like Rachel and Jun, and I really like Pop Culture Detective. I’ve seen a lot of jackscepticeye’s stuff, too. Proko, Vox, and Sinix Design are all good too.

95. Share your favourite quote. “Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who matter don’t mind and those who mind don’t matter.” -Dr Seuss

96. What is the meaning of life? To be happy, enjoy yourself, and love others!

97. Do you like horror movies? Ha ha ha, not really. I liked A Quiet Place though.

98. Have you ever made your mum cry? What happened? She’s cried sometimes over how she treated us in the past. Sometimes it happens because I talk about how she’s hurt me. She always expresses regret and apologizes again.

99. Do you feel lucky or special in a way? I feel lucky with how I met my best friend. We’d had band together and kind of both thought each other as a cool person, but we didn’t really hit it off until a couple years later and she saw me drawing Homestuck fanart in Psychology lmao. The rest is history. Love you so much, Haley. I feel lucky my mom realized she was being abusive and stopped, too. Not everyone gets that.

100. Can you keep a secret? Oh, definitely. But do tell me what needs to be secret, otherwise I won’t know. For example, my sib asked me to keep their gf busy while they bought her a present, so I tried, but then she was like ‘oh, where’s your sibling? we should find them’ i was like ‘oh no, i think they’re just buying something, it’s fine’ but she was stubbornly moving toward the checkout and i was like ‘stop, i think they’re buying something for you’ so i. kinda told a secret? i didn’t tell her what the present was though.

JESUS THAT WAS A LOT OF TYPING, LMAO. IT’S THREE AM. GOODNIGHT

#axbox #omishu #about me

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cruddyborderlandstheories · 5 years

Text

i have so many theories!!! theyre all screaming at me!!! i must write out them all!!!!!

so here’s one that’s been knocking around my head since finals week began:

the Writing 3 Playlist on Spotify

I think this bad boy is a hint at the game’s timeline

maybe not 100% explanatory, but I think we can guess certain parts of the game through this

and i just wanna tell y’all now, almost all of this is speculation, as honestly im 90% sure the playlist was created bc it had borderlands-y songs in it (although the last few have me scratching my head)

lemme explain why im writing this, though I’m very thirsty for lore

tl;dr: game goes like this: lilith powers stolen. go to promethea, go to jungle, find brick mordy and tina, get into a fight, lose fight, go find other VHs, get into another fight, Krieg shows up to save Maya, maya die. (oh no she ded), the twins have their we are GODS moment, the VHs get summoned to the Eridian homeworld, there’s a huge ass final battle, someone attempts to create an end-of-the-world scenario

so the playlist itself was created to help one of the authors of the game get into their borderlands jam

it starts with a Cage the Elephant song, “Trouble”, the band of which we all know wrote the first song used in BL1. Not really much else to say here, but we do know the opening cutscene of the game involves our current team of Vault Hunters being attacked by the Children of the Vault. this is, of course, not indicative of any songs used in bl3, but we can assume it captures the general feeling of the game.

Second song: “Fire” by Barns Courtney (holy shit I love this guy so fucking much!! if you’ve never listened to his music, PLEASE do so! I really recommend “Rather Die”- I am in the process of making a bl3 animatic to it actually lmao).

So anyway, I’m just sayin’, the lyrics of this song...

“Oh, a thousand faces staring at me Thousand times I've fallen Thousand voices dead at my feet Now I'm gone... And my mother told me son let it be Sold my soul to the calling Sold my soul to a sweet melody Now I'm gone... Oh gimme that fire ...”

Honestly, I would not be surprised if this song was about Lilith’s loss of her powers. I mean, she used to call herself the Firehawk because she burned the shit outta bandits. c’monnn.

The man, the myth, the legend himself even says that "[The song is] quite defiant as well, like this cannot be how it ends, it cannot be my situation."

Mooooving on

“Majesty” by Apashe and Wasiu

holy fuck i love this song so much. and its so very obviously about the Calypso Twins- at the very least its Tyreen.

“All the stars and galaxies address me as your majesty So better say your majesty, I might react erratically Throw you in a fire, purify you I'm the sire, my empire's on the rise You better find yourself a place to hide Your place to find, but say it twice My name divine, I'm aimin' high Don't look in my face or eyes Take a bow and save your life Glory to the emperor, my temperature is risin' Always hot, it's getting violent”

I mean come on if its not when we meet the twins for the first time after they steal lily’s powers, then its definitely when they do something absolutely badass and really show us why they’re revered as gods. Possibly related to the Holy Broadcasting Center?

“The Way I Do” by Bishopp Briggs

this one honestly had got me stumped as to its purpose, i lowkey kinda think its getting Sanctuary 3 up and running (and possibly meeting Maya for the first time- still not sure about that). I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a whole thing for Scooter and this song fits pretty well. I imagine we also meet Vaughn and the Children at some point, so maybe here?

“Greeting the Menace” by Zack Hemsey

yeah i uhhhh dunno. This sounds like a song about a dude getting tortured which scares me a bit lmao.

I thought maybe this song and the next 2 could be VH-based songs, as the next 2 have no lyrics whatsoever and the third is called “Best Friends”, but who knows... If this is the case I could make the argument this is about Zane or Moze, leaning towards Zane cuz he’s pretty covered up, plus I think “Best Friends” would be more Moze’s style lmao

I could also see this being a song about Troy... could explain all the ‘body mods’ and the missing arm.

“ProtoVision” by Kavinsky

If we’re going with the idea that these next few songs are about the Vault Hunters, then I imagine this would be Fl4k’s. It’s got that synth and some guitar which I think fits perfectly with his robo-hobo aesthetic lol

Other than that, I truly have no idea what part of the story this song could reference since there aren’t any lyrics. Maybe Promethea’s city? I could kinda see it, it sounds pretty high-tech

Similarly, “diatribe.” by Oliver Michael

the beginning gives me a whole meditation vibe which I kinda associate with Amara and her phasecast skill which “sends out an astral projection” of herself.

Then again, this could be the outskirts of the Promethean city... I could see myself wandering around the huge ass foliage and discovering an abandoned research base to this song idk

“Best Friends” by grandson

aaahh i love grandson. I think this could be a Moze-based song. I just get that vibe from her leather jacket... anyway

I also could totally see this as discovering Brick, Mordecai, and Tina in the research base (if that truly is where they are). Cause we saw them in the trailer hanging out there.

tbh the lyrics themselves kinda remind me of pre-Tales Rhys and Fiona and all their friends

“All of my best friends Like to go and get fucked up Then they talk about all the lives they never got to live Oh, they're still waiting for some sort of invitation It's never coming along, oh no, you'll get just what you give”

but idk if that’s what its meant for

“Bap U” by Party Favor

hmm another ‘lyricless’ song. not really lyric-less but uhhh the lyrics are pretty nonsensical lol

I could see there being a fight scene with Brick Tina and Mordy as AIs helping out here, maybe exploring the abandoned research base?

“Not Human” by elegant slims

oh you know what im going to say here hahaha

monster troy p l e a s e

i wouldn’t be surprised if Tyreen started accumulating more powers here, like perhaps the previous fight scene was over the Vault on Promethea and the twins were able to access it before us? and Tyreen gives the Vault Monster the succ

“Crack in the seams You're breaking through The animal inside of you You're not human anymore... Your eyes go black electric blue The animal inside of you Life on a string Watch it swing Hide your teeth”

and one (or both) of the twins start going feral lol

“Way Down We Go” by KALEO

one (1) fear and that’s that someone dies during the scene that corresponds to this song

hopefully its just the boys being depressed over a loss instead of a victory, but oof

anyway, you know what they say: “sometimes you gotta fall before you make it big” ;) thats a typhon deleon quote

“I’m a Wanted Man” by Royal Deluxe

I want to believe these next few songs are us recruiting the rest of the Vault Hunters not seen yet

I kinda associate this one with Axton since his whole History with DAHL, but who knows! It could be Gaige, too. or Maya since she looks like she’s being incredibly gay criminal on the Maliwan Monastery planet. Maybe both Axton and Gaige? I would love that

“The Devil You Know” by X Ambassadors

Could also be Axton! I lowkey think its Salvador or Timothy Lawrence. The reason I think its Timothy is cuz the whole song gives me huge Handsome Jack vibes, but it could also be Sal cuz I totally imagine him becoming a bounty hunter to fund his gun addiction lmao

“00000 Million” by Ella Vos

this one also gives off Maya vibes imo. I wouldn’t be surprised if this one is about her and the introduction of Little Blue. I could also see Athena and Janey here, just living their lives out in a cottage somewhere. awww

“Jungle” by Tash Sultana

Ahh a love song [pukes] Hopefully this one is about Athena and Janey, cuz there is a depressing lack of both of them in all the trailers we’ve seen! It sounds lowkey sad, though. I hope nothing happened to them D:

“Don’t Wait Up” by Dustbowl Revival

this one gives me very big Fiona and Sasha vibes.

Of course, there’s also the fact that the song is about a dad, and we still don’t know who the heck “the Father” is on all those Calypsos posters. We also dunno who in the heck “Mother” is, either. Sounds like Father left the cult, though, oof, and Mother stuck around. Wonder what that’s all about, maybe he felt like the twins were working fast/efficient enough and left to do things himself? Very lost on this idea tbh. the song seems very out of place, but it has to connect to something, yknow?

“Dies Irae” by Apashe and Black Prez

For those of you who don’t speak fluent Latin (the fuck guys?? lmao jk), the title means "Day of Wrath". Nice, nice, nice.

the lyrics, you might be asking:

“'Cause I'ma beast. Where you at? I've been unleashed. Whatchu doin'? Sink my teeth. Y'all can't fathom I'ma beast”

me: [vibrating in my seat] monster twins monster twins monster twins monster twins

at the very least this is definitely a fight scene here. Probably with the twins again (hopefully). Maybe they found some way to imbue the cultists with fucked up powers and are sending them against the VHs as giant demon things and as we fight through the temple (apparently with some Guardians) we realize the final one is Troy and/or Tyreen?

I like to imagine this is where Maya gets her powers stolen, if only because the next few songs... I think she’s around because she’s now the only person with Siren powers on the side of the Crimson Raiders, so they might need her help with the Vault in some way

“RAMPAGE” by GRAVEDGR

y’all wonder why I seemingly forgot about Krieg in the above songs? Well, this is why.

The only lyric for this entire song is “Bitch, I'm on a rampage- mask on my damn face”

I mean come on, Krieg with his psycho mask on, the fact his action skill is literally called “Buzz Axe Rampage”, the fact he loves Maya as shown in his introductory trailer... it’d be so perfect. And I bet badass psycho Krieg would be the only thing able to beat back whatever’s attacking at the moment. I’m just imagining him smashing down a wall and going apeshit

“Black Out Days” by Phantograms

Another song I think is about Krieg and Maya. I don’t think Maya does too hot in this game, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if she gets the Roland treatment if you know what I’m saying. I wonder if this causes Krieg to devolve back into insanity cause the whole song seems to focus around that. I hope not D:

“Hide the sun I will leave your face out of my mind You should save your eyes A thousand voices howling in my head Speak in tongues I don't even recognize your face Mirror on the wall Tell me all the ways to stay away”

To be honest I could also see it being that Maya gets her powers stolen and thoughtlock-ed by the twins to fight on their side (as she’s seen fighting with the big demon elemental things), and maybe we have to kill her or hurt her in some way to get her to stop attacking us. God I hope not.

Let’s hope this is someway about the twins and definitely not about our favorite Siren and/or Psycho

“The Finishing” by Stavroz

oof i think somebody dies... If its not Maya, my best guess is Krieg or Lilith. Maybe Mordecai or Brick? Oh I hope not, I love both of them way too much for it to be healthy. But, hey, at least Tina learned some coping mechanisms :(

“Intro” and “Apocalypse Please” by Muse

merged these into 1 because Intro is like 15 seconds long and is literally the introduction to Apocalypse Please.

Definitely reaching the end of the game here...

“And it's time we saw a miracle Come on, it's time for something biblical To pull us through And pull us through And this is the end This is the end Of the world Proclaim eternal victory Come on and change the cause of history And pull us through”

I think the twins (or whoever may have become the main villain- perhaps the Eridians?) have claimed victory/gotten the ultimate power in one way or another, and/or this is the Crimson Raiders getting themselves ready for a final stand-off with the big bad evil guy.

I would really love if there’s a scene right at the end of this where the Twins have their huge “BOW TO ME” moment and then they just get COMPLETELY obliterated by a new villain. Just absolutely decimated.

New villain, like if they opened a Vault and whatever was being imprisoned there just wipes the floor with them (something like the Destroyer, if not the Destroyer itself), or fuck shit maybe even Tannis? or the Eridians looking for help in the war. or the Eridians bringing war. Who knows!

Again, could just be the Twins having gotten their hands on the end-game material, like realizing they can turn troy into big demon fuck (no i am not letting this one go) and we are kinda fucked now.

“Free Animal” by Foreign Air

I... have no idea lol

maybe Krieg getting rescued, maybe (one of?) the twins getting recruited by the Raiders for the final fight? It could fit into the ‘Beast’ imagery. Fuck, maybe even rescuing/finding Typhon or something? Idk, im kinda in the party that Typhon is going to be coming back some way or another lol, I’d love to meet the guy

“Dreams” by ZHU and Nero

This definitely sounds like a new BBEG has just been introduced or the big bads just entered the final phase of their plan, like the Crimson Raiders just learned about something life-changing and this is their “oh shit” moment

i wanna believe that the Eridians or another alien race (like the Seraphs!) are going to come in at the ‘end’ of the game and the Watcher is gonna be like “bitch did you really think I thought these dumbass ECHOnet streamers were the epitome of War??” I imagine we’d be on the side of the Eridians here, since y’know, the Watcher came to us for help.

Of course, the twins could still be the BBEG and have gotten their hands on that universe-destroying power that was described on the website (”to recover a map to ancient Vaults and prevent a universe-destroying power from falling into the wrong hands”) so maybe the Eridians called us in in order to meet and get help against the COV?

“Beyond the Fray” by Cassandra Violet

personally i think this one is about the Eridian homeworld

“I'll mark the day When we can meet beyond the fray Don't lose the will to see your home You find the way so we can meet beyond the fray I'll fight to see that you get home Consider this small clue Look beyond your point of view Make a space for honesty hide“

Wouldn’t even be surprised if someone made a sacrifice so we could get there... I imagine its hidden somewhere in the alternate dimension or wherever the Vaults lead to so it couldn’t be found, so maybe Lilith’s got her powers back at this point and she sacrifices herself to send us there?

idk...

“Outside the Realm” by Big Giant Circles

ah yes, another reason I think the end of the game involves the Eridian homeworld in some way. Have you heard this?? huge “we just stumbled upon a long-lost-alien-planet” vibe. I love it. Maybe even just a shot of Sanctuary III slowly gliding over the giant planet, having just exited phasewalk. God yes

“Battle Royale” by Apashe

another reason i think the final fight is some giant battlefield/wave fight instead of just against 1 or 2 enemies. not to mention the fact that the VH skills we’ve seen so far are crowd control based instead of raid boss focused.

Its likely the VHs against the Cult of the Vault, but if we defeat the Twins halfway through the game, then the Cult will dissolve on its own. Either way, I really really really really really want a huge fight against an army. I don’t care if its against the Children of the Vault, the Eridians/some Guardians, or if its against the Seraphs or a new set of aliens we’re gonna get (maybe whatever the Destroyer was/is?). idk idc i just want a huge battle. I imagine we’re on the Eridians’ side, as I said above, but who knows, maybe the Watcher went rogue.

oh and also, the next song:

“Doomsday” by NERO

oh hey, I recognize this song, it’s giving me major BL2 flashbacks lmao

Also the last song in the playlist, which is giving me the big fear (tm)

I imagine that we wouldn’t have been brought to the Eridian homeworld if it wasn’t kind of a huge deal, and what’s more of a huge deal than the end of the universe?!

that’s what i’d call doomsday, anyway.

could be the reason the Eridians are coming out of hiding after all this time. Either to stop our dumb human asses from opening the Vaults, or to get help against these alien fucks because our dumb human asses keep destroying their first line of defense- the Vault Monsters.

If the twins actually DO remain the main villains throughout the whole game, then I imagine this is them prepping to destroy the universe

but maaaan i really want some aliens... maybe the universe destroying power IS the aliens? aw hell yeah

#borderlands #borderlands 3 #bl3 #the calypso twins #writing 3 playlist #im so dead inside #maya the siren #maya #krieg the psycho #krieg #eridians

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arkus-rhapsode · 6 years

Text

Eden’s Zero Chapter 1 Review

Hey guys, now before I dive into this already longer than usual review, I did wanna take this time to mention something. Its been no secret that I turned on Mashima and FT pretty hardly after the end of FT and some of you may be aware that I was moderately active in the fanbase with putting out my reviews and such. That said some may liken that shift in mentality to me not liking how the story went and a common critique of fans is that when what they’re fans of doesn’t gel with what they want they wanna destroy it. As if the fan has ownership of the source of the fanaticism.

I admit there are times that I’ve question decisions on Hiro Mashima’s end and has posted rewrites, but that’s not me doing it out of a sense of ownership. I’m doing it because I have a standard. Being a fan of something and letting your disappointment get to you and fester into salty, bitchy purest is one thing, but being a person who’s judging what a series puts out and actually caring about the quality of what’s in the popular media is important. FT got negative reviews in its latter half because it was that bad. By the end of the series it was legit that bad. Now I don’t say that is someone who was in the fanbase and hated Hiro’s decisions cause they weren’t mine, I hated them because it was bad writing. I’m a reader with standards, as are all of you, and in the digestion of media we make distinctions between good and bad. I make this claim with more concrete surety now that I’ve been around longer and have reviewed more series than just FT, I think it be harder to believe if I made this case when I was just starting and all I was talking about at the time was FT.

Some of you might remember when I first started out on MHA, my second chapter I ever reviewed I had found it boring and mundane and to date its my least popular MHA review and I still stand by that assertion. I hold everything to the same standard, and that includes FT. The reason I write this is that while throughout this review I will mention comparison’s to FT’s first chapter (and yes, even ways Eden’s Zero improved on it), but I will be holding it to the same standard. So this entire review won’t be me holding a grudge against Hiro, but it will be me holding it to the same standard as I do everything I read. That out of the way lets dive in.

We open on a hill side and met our MC named Shiki. Beside him is the mecha demon from the cover page and what they see is a... dragon. Yeah, Hiro I thought you wanted this to be wholely original?

On the hand I actually like this scene in the sense robo demon here is actually encourging actual adventure (something FT lacked) and its kinda amazing listening to this demon looking guy talking about friendship, yet on the other hand, damnit Hiro. Is this the only thing how to write about? Like damn man.

We cut to the future where we see our main female Lucy-I mean Rebecca! Y’know I could make a Rebecca from One Piece joke, but she’s kinda already a bit of a decisivee figure so I’m not gonna bother.

I mean its okay. Its just castle theme park. Also Rebecca we find out is apparently a youtuber. Look if DBS can have GodTube then I can put up with Blue Cate (Aoneko) website. Also yeah Happy here, no sugar coating its just Happy. Also Rebecca here purposely made her skirt short. Just because you point out the sexualization in canon doesn’t make it better, ya still drew it, Hiro.

We see that the theme park is full of robots and each one acts as an assist in sending the guest through some kind of medieval simulator. And if anyone has seen Westworld you know where this is heading. To be fair I love worldbuilding so please, explore!

So we find out Rebecca’s dream is to have one million suscribers and now here’s where I gotta give props to Hiro because he actual made a dream for a character that doesn’t seem like it can be achieved a chapter from now. Granted this seems a bit hard to actually quantify, but this dream could potenially evolve into something of why she wants the suscribers and could be like Nami making the map of the world that getting video of unknown locations may actually be worth something to the general population.

We see that Rebecca chooses to go on a monster hunting quest and they encounter...

...This thing. Also it seems Rebecca’s character quirk is she really likes cats I guess? But this doesn’t last long as someone crashes down on mecha cat.

Okay that was kinda funny. I mean if this was FT would’ve actually gotten the panty shot so maybe Hiro has learned his lesson! Also note that wrench!

Oh god damnit Hiro. So this tarzan guy after acting like an animal is knocked out by Rebecca. Y’know it took about 60 chapters before Natsu got all up in Lucy’s chest, guess we’re cutting straight to the chase here.

Okay is joke with here just going be about here short skirt? Damning it with faint praise here, but at least he still hven’t flashed us them yet. Also Tarzan here is the only human on the island.

We get some scenes of Shiki here wanting to be friends with Rebecca cause she’s a human and Rebecca isn’t interested and she returns to the Granbell town where Shiki is there and the robots know who he is.

Shiki’s expressions and creepy advances really gives off this tinge of sci-fi horror, unfortunate Hiro doesn’t really go that route and we’ll get to it. Also that wizard looking robot from the color page is also here.

They then have a party where the robots all celebrate them having a costumer for the first time in so long they have a party being nice to Rebecca and lavishing her with stuff outside is robot that looks like Robin Hood and he reports to his boss this machine king.

Oh look, Hades if he was a robot.

We see Shiki trying to bond with Rebecca and it leads to him expressing he wants to leave the kingdom and see another country, but we also learn he’s in charge of fixing this and the robots are acting up lately. We find out that the one who was talking to Shiki and is his “Grandfather” was called the Demon King a robot designed for playing that role in the park.

Umm Rebecca... That’s being a dick. So you don’t like it, so you decide to cut it, cause it bothers you. You could’ve framed it like, “If he fixes you up then maybe he needs better vision” or “He’s been so nice to me, let me do something for him.” And what makes this worse s that Shiki is asleep, so she doesn’t even consult his feelings. Like seriously, that’s not being a good friend . But for contrivances sake I’m sure Shiki will wake up and love it, won’t he?

Huh? I was wrong instead we got shitty 80s comedy. I don’t know if that’s better or worse.

Y’know I said I’d give Hiro atleast two free fanservice moments for his first 3 chapters. He’s now used all of them up in a single chapter. Also Rebecca is tied to a stake while robots with torches surround her along with the machine king.

Shiki is also there and here’s something that did remind me of rave, the tightness of the first chapter. Everything seems to flow like one continuous story and doesn’t seem to do some dumb interlude like FTs first chapter did with that awkward moment where Lucy leaves Natsu and she’s just randomly in the park reading.

The King wants to use her ship to leave this world and we get som kind of motivation out of him.

Oh wow, for a first chapter villain that’s actually a really deep thing to unload. That as amusment park hosts they must’ve just been seen as pleasure tools and with no one around these robots who seem to be senstinent must’ve felt betrayed and...

Oooooor you cut out all moral ambiguity by just saying they have a virus. Sure. Trust me, this is where it gets stupid really stupid. And that’s the inconsistency.

So these robots I guess are like the ones from the Animatrix where they just kinda develop sentience out of nowhere. But unlike Animatrix it doesn’t seem to imply when they developed this sentience and that they began to think they were being abused.

Tired of Friendship already, it ain’t leaving.

So why do you hate humans? They abandoned you I guess, but there’s not other robot saying “hey our times were fun together” no everyone is like they left us to rot so we hate them. Not like Humans did anything legitimate bad. We actually see that at the end of the chapter that there is some sort of central battery on the park that all robots are hooked up to. You could make their reason for hating humans that. That even though they left these sentiment robots still had a little kingdom to themselves, but realized that its all just going to end one day and humans didn’t even bother to unplug them. They’re existence is literally knowing when they’ll die, imagine that as why they harbor negative emotions and maybe Shiki actually fixing things might’ve actually been prolonging their lives so maybe that be why they kept him around. This whole sentience things just feels like Hiro wanted to do a trope of crazy robots and ended using multiple to fit the whatever story purpose at the moment.

You do run the planet, dumbasses. This entire plane, apparently for hundreds of years, has been solely controlled by you. Maye this should be rephrased as, going to the place that built you to get revenge or as I spoiled with the battery we’ll take the ship to get more power for our kingdom?

Shiki doesn’t do anything and kinda lets the robots just wail on him as he found out all things in his life were a lie. Then Rebecca gives a friendship speech. A stupid stupid friendship speech.

You’re right, Rebecca! Too bad we didn’t see that. I’m serious we barely see memories of Shiki with any robot outside of the demon king and Michael so there’s no weight to this conflict. We only get the vague sense they raised hm, but there’s no moments of Shiki really laughingg and enjoying their company outside of the party with Rebecca which rather is made more for getting Shiki to like Rebecca for this moment.

Shiki remembers what his Grandpa the Demon King said and just blows them all away.

We see Shiki’s hand and apparently he has these marks indicating he has Ether gear. The power system of this series.

You’re sentiment! You have out grown your programming! You can choose to have a concept of friendship.

So they fight with shitty action scenes (If I can give Horikoshi a hard time for how he draws his fight choreography, then I sure as hell will give Hiro the once over.) Happy manages to save Rebecca and like Happy from early FT, he basically spots off exposition on powers.

So is it like a literal gear? Because Happy afterward destincties as the Gear of Gravity, so is it like a devil fruit? Is ether in all humans, but this specific gear brings it out in a certain way? If its internal then I guess its like the magic circuits from Fate? And then every of has their own unique variation like Nen? Like cause Happy gives it the distinction of Gravity it doesn’t seem like Shiki gives a reason why he has this power. I’m hoping \its like devil fruits, literal gears you implant and then it brings out your ether in a certain way.

Shiki punches out the machine king and cause a massive collapse.

Credit where credit is due, Hiro actually did build up the reveal of this power throughout the chapter and its actually really well done. Kinda reminds of something Oda would do with subtly building up a devil fruit power without revealing it. Like Crocodile drying out a flower but it isn’t stated his power is specifically sand.

They then flee when the other robots rally and Shiki takes Rebecca back to her ship.

This scene would actually be really nice if we actually saw more young shiki actually having fun with the machines and not a being a creeper with them.

Shiki and Rebecca take off and we see the universe.

Not gonna lie, that’s a really pretty shot. Like damn, I could get behind this.

It seems like worlds in this universe are basically like kingdom hearts worlds. They’re not real “worlds” so much as they are islands in space.

Sure, keep the mystery alive why don’t you, no that be too much.

Well great place to end the chapter. Little dry of a first story, but I definetly see that has room for improvment and there is something-Wait this isn’t the last page? But what else is there to talk about. There’s nothing left-

Oh for fuck sake. That’s right they were trying to send SHiki away. Because apparently these robots thought there was no way to restore battery life even if stayed.

Here’s a tip, ifyou really care, and had such a close bond, maybe tell him to leave? Tell SHiki the truth that you guys are tied to a battery and instead of Shiki vowing to leave for the stars so he can make 100 friends (I’m not kiding that’s his actual goal here). Then this would be an interesting goal.

But no, you have to act like human hating jackasses and shatter the boy’s entire reality, just so you he would go out and “change the universe”

This would be a really nice scene with a very nice amount of character development starting point, if we actually saw their past. All we know is they raised Shiki, but its never really seemed like they’re loving or caring or Shiki openly gets upset if one of them had a problem. Again the biggest flaw with this chapter is that it sacrifices seeing one potentially interesting relationship (Shiki and the robots) for another one (Rebecca).

So we end on this page which reveals that Shiki’s goal is to have a hundred friends. Not going to say something snarky I just realized this is the same motivation as Yuki from future diary. Like before the crazy yandere shit.

Post Chapter follow up:

Lets be positive and look at the good stuff in this chapter. The first thing great about this chapter is it improved upon two of the biggest failings in the first chapter FT. Goals established and world building. Not only does this set up force Hiro Mashima to actually world build (literally) but each person in the first chapter has a goal that doesn’t seem like it can be accomplished quickly. It means we can have investment in the story.

Another thing I’ll give is Shiki is an okay MC. He has more personality than Natsu, but not as much as Haru and this first chapter is about him. Its easy to understand that Lucy is often considered the MC of FT because it literally focuses on her for the story than Natsu. But this chapter had a healthy balance.

Also the power system at least seems to have some definition. Unlike how anyone could have magic yet normal people just don’t choose to use it like in FT. Ether Gear seems to be a powersource that only a select few can use. Now we need to see first if there are ways of combating it like technology or such so a non ether gear person can still fight.

It also has its own unique aesthetic. Ft is a pretty generic fantasy world. It doesn’t have the bleakness of bereserk or the Japanese aesthetic of naruto. You could say Black CLover, Fairy Tail, and Seven Deadly sins all had their first chapter happen in the same world and I’d have trouble arguing it.

Now on to the crappy stuff. This series suffers from the usual Mashima foibles such as the sexual harassment, the stupidly way it tries to justify and give all conflict happy ending, not actually bothering to have a situation drawn out ad built up too, etc. I mean for the first conflict of the chapter its a heavy one, these guys raised SHiki yet their own mentality is against humans so Shiki has to choose, but instead of actually answering that question, it turns out there was no real conflict and the machines were just faking.

As for my like for Shiki, I flat hate Rebecca. She is so pointless and useless. Look I will defend Lucy and she actually can d things. First chapter she saved Natsu by using aquarius. But Rebecca? She’s just all of the bad traits of post timeskip Lucy. She is used for pointless fanservice, does nothing contribute, and becomes a mouth piece for friendship.

Speaking of friendship as a concept and goal here, Hiro just rewrite what you mean. Have deeper meaning than friends for once. There is ways you could take the motivation “I want to make 100 friends” in a compelling way. Prehaps Shiki is going out to make his own world where he can make a happy place for people where they can laugh and cry in harmony. Like story telling wise its pretty weak.

Like me personally, I would’ve taken the first chapter like this, the robots are sentinet and they are nice to Shiki and Rebecca and they have genuine fun together. They gradually reveal that they are shutting down maybe one starts acting wonky and tries to hide it and maybe the machine king is the real bad guy. He has sentinece and hates humans and he wants to eliminate SHiki and Rebecca and that’s because they’re shutting down. The other robots say they don’t care they were abandoned, they were mad at first but Shiki showed them that why they loved catering to humans. King and Shiki fight and they all reveal they’re shutting down and Shiki cries he doesn’t want them to go. The robots say its inevitable and they don’t hpw to recharge the battery and Shiki vows to leave the planet and search for a power source to bring them all back. Then that’s shiki’s goal and it even can cause questions like “Is it worth all this for machines?” or “who designed them maybe we can figure out the right substance to power them up?”

or if Hiro wanted to go a more darker route. Have the machines have no sentience and literally be dolls for the King who turns out to be a human who stayed here on Granbell and made his own little kingdom. Make it a bit meta on how Shiki’s only friends were just hollow imitations of people who were only friends because that’s what their programming dictated and they can all be switched off. It be meta as critiquing Ft and how all the guild characters basically had no conflicts, all got along, and were just friends with no depth or reason.

This all highlights the issue with Hiro Mashima and that’s he is not a good a writer. Hiro is an incredibly talented person and can come up with incredibly unique ideas and looks, which is why his cover pages are the best things he puts out because its him free forming. But writing. He has a limited scope on that and stuff like sci-fi and fantasy can be very morally grey things. But Hiro doesn’t seem to understand tragedy in the sense that its tragic because a person fails or dies unsatisfied. But he only seems to know how to write painfully obvious concepts like “save the world” or “friendship” instead doing a concept like “what it is to be a hero” like MHA does which can have a variety of answers to it.

So what’s the final verdict? Well I actually am going to do something different than usual. I’m going to say what I though the quality was compared to FT and then to what I’d consider this work compared to anything else.

In comparison to FT, Eden’s Zero gets a Final verdict of 8/10

Improves on a lot of FT’s first chapter flaws

Created a more unique environment for a story

And actually has a lot tighter narrative

But in comparison to everything else...

Final Verdict: 5/10

Even if it wasn’t Hiro, its a pretty generic start (some names aren’t even all that inspired like Machine King, Demon King)

Potential to grow into something better is there

Nothing is outright offensive

Cool concept

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