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disturbedbydesign · 3 years

Text

The Widow and the Wolf - Chapter 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x dark!exWidow!reader

Summary: After Natasha Romanoff took down the Red Room, the former Widows scattered to the wind. Raised to be a killing machine and released into the world with nothing and no one, you decided to use your newfound autonomy to take down the bad guys of your choosing. But now Natasha is riddled with guilt for leaving you on your own. She wants to recruit you, rehabilitate you, make you part of a team again. But the rest of the squad has reservations, and no one is more against you than Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: Graphic violence; Mentions of domestic violence, rape, pedophilia, human trafficking, child sex trafficking; eventual Dubcon (not Bucky); eventual smut; slow(ish) burn enemies-to-lovers. [More warnings will be added as necessary but these are the Big Bads.] 18+ only, no minors.

A/N: This is canon-adjacent in that I just decided to pick and choose who I wanted to write for and what parts of canon I wanted to use. Best not to think too hard about where it falls on the timeline because the canon is a mess and we all kind of hate it anyway.

If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here.

Chapter One

You’ve been tracking him for days, not that it was hard. His patrol schedule is always the same, as is his after-hours routine: drinks at the Irish pub on Reade Street with the other boys in blue. It’s a cop bar but you waltz right in, looking lost even though you know the name, rank, and various misdeeds of every guy in the place. He looks at you, because of course he does—his wife assured you that he has a wandering eye, among his other sins.

You take a seat at the bar. “Double vodka rocks, please.”

The bartender pours you your drink and you take a deep pull, savoring the burn of it. Then you wait, but it doesn’t take long—it never does. Sergeant Thompson sidles up to the barstool next to you.

“Hey darlin,” he says, his breath reeking of cheap beer. “You lost?”

You turn to him with an innocent smile. “Evening, officer.”

“It’s Sergeant,” he says, tapping his badge, “but I won’t hold that against you. So, what’s a pretty young thing doing in a dive bar with a bunch of old men?”

“I was supposed to meet a friend for dinner but she bailed on me. Figured I’d grab a drink before I head home.”

“And where is home?” he asks, not that it’s any of his business, but cops think they deserve answers to any questions they feel like asking.

“Williamsburg,” you lie.

“You’re pretty far from home, then,” he replies, even though you both know that you aren’t. He takes a sip of his beer and the foam leaves a trace like a mustache before he licks it clean. “It’s late. Why don’t you let me drive you? Wouldn’t want you on the subway this time of night.”

“It’s only 8:30,” you say. “I think I’ll be just fine.”

He leans in conspiratorially. “Well, I really shouldn’t be telling you this—open investigation and all that—but we’ve been on the lookout for a guy in the area, serial rapist, real nasty piece of work.”

That’s one thing the two of you have in common at least.

“I’d feel a lot better if you’d let me take you home, darlin.”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” you admit. “Can’t get much safer than the NYPD, right?”

He laughs and so do you, knowing that nothing is farther from the truth—especially when it comes to this guy.

Sergeant Thompson speeds across the Williamsburg Bridge with his flashers on, headed toward the address you gave him. Of course, that’s not actually your address—you don’t have a home anymore—it’s just one of many rundown warehouses in the neighborhood, variously used for impromptu raves and as drug dens and, in your case, a private place in which you can take care of business without fear of being interrupted.

“This is me,” you say, waiting for him to let you out of the back of the cruiser where he insisted you ride—caged in like a helpless animal, or so he thinks.

“This place?” he asks. “Looks like it’s about to collapse.”

“You’d be surprised what they can do to these places on the inside—gentrification and what have you. My rent is astronomical.”

“Still,” he says, “I’d like to walk you up. Looks a bit unsavory.”

“If you insist, Sergeant.”

The second you get up the stairs to the top floor, you inject him with the etorphine, straight into the jugular, and down he goes. It never gets old—how easy it is, when they think that they are the predator and you are the prey. You drag him into the loft where you’re already set up for a long night’s work.

When he comes to, he’s fixed to the chair with (among other things) his own handcuffs, mouth taped shut and a rag shoved in for good measure. You don’t want to hear him talk; it’s time for him to listen. His day of reckoning has come. He starts to squirm but between the cuffs and the duct tape and the sedative still coursing through his veins, he’s not going anywhere. Even if he did get free, you could take him down easy. It’s what you were trained for. It’s what you were born for.

“Welcome back, Sergeant,” you say, and he screams something unintelligible through the rag which, if you had to guess, would be some combination of “cunt” or “bitch” or any of the other choice words he likes to use on his women.

The tarps are laid meticulously around the room, placed strategically to catch any and all evidence of what you’re about to do. When he notices them, he goes still, because he knows. Part of him knows.

“So,” you say, pulling out the Thompson file, “this is quite the impressive resume you’ve got here, Sarge. Lots of civilian brutality complaints, including a few choice allegations from female prisoners. Oh, and then there’s the domestic violence and marital rape. You’re a real charmer, huh?”

There’s more muffled screaming but you ignore it—the last gasps of a dying man.

“Here’s the thing, Sarge. I know you think that you’re above the law, because you are the law, but you aren’t. Your wife is real tired of your shit, and me? Well, let’s just say that my motto is protect and serve.” You lean in close enough to smell the salty sweat on his brow. “And unlike you, I actually mean it.”

You pull your favorite knife from your thigh holster and slit him from ear to ear. “See you in hell, Sergeant.”

You sit on the edge of the table, swinging your legs and watching him bleed out. It doesn’t take long. The actual disposal is the real work. You set about chopping him into manageable pieces and you find yourself missing the days when you didn’t have to cover your tracks alone, when there was a clean-up team to take care of it for you.

But you’re freelance now. You’re not a Widow anymore. She made sure of that.

Sometimes—like right now, when you’re dripping sweat and every muscle in your body is screaming its exertion as you saw through bone after bone—you hate Natasha Romanoff. You know why she did what she did; you understand that, objectively, it was the right thing to do. But did she ever stop to consider the repercussions of her actions? She got out early and found a new family and became one of the Good Guys. But you? You entered the Red Room with nothing and you left with nothing.

They always said you were born to be a killer. It’s all you’ve ever known. So what exactly did she expect you to do? You may be free of the mind control, but you never had the chance to develop a mind of your own. Killing is all you know. At least now you get to pick your own targets.

Once you’ve got Sergeant Thompson all squared away, you pack him up in the trunk of his cruiser and drive upstate, listening to the 80s station you like. It occurs to you that most people have heard these songs a thousand times—so many times that they know the lyrics instinctively, can sing them without even having to think about it. It’s all new to you, though. You can’t decide whether it makes you sad to think about all you’ve missed or whether you’re lucky that you get to experience for the first time what everyone else is already tired of.

When you get to the farm, you dump Thompson in the holes you’ve already backhoed, then you hop on the Cat and fill them all in. You shoot a text to Mrs. Thompson from your burner—just a thumbs-up emoji—and she replies with a smiley face. It was only so long before he would have killed her; she knows it as well as you do. The only people that will grieve the dearly departed Sergeant Thompson are a bunch of assholes who are one false move from ending up in your web.

You didn’t charge Mrs. Thompson your usual rate—just what she could afford without drawing the attention and ire of the Mister. Sometimes, depending on the circumstances, you even work pro bono. After all, you only kill people for money who you would happily kill for free. You consider it a service, something for the greater good of society. You’ll take money, sure—you need it to live and to continue your work—but not from people who can’t easily spare it.

You have standards. You have a code. That’s the difference between the you that served as a mindless weapon wielded by others and the you that decides for yourself how to use the gifts you’ve been given. No women. No children. No collateral damage. Only Very Bad Men who’ve done Very Bad Things. You don’t see the harm in it, not really, and as you settle into bed you come back to the thought you often have before a fitful night of sleep: who’s the real avenger, Natasha?

*****

Natasha wipes her brow and throws the rag down on the mat, grabbing a bottle of water and chugging half of it before she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Bucky has barely broken a sweat from their morning sparring session, and he doesn’t even try to fake it. He’s in an especially grumpy mood.

“This is a bad idea, Natasha.”

“To some people, maybe,” she says, “but I want to bring her in anyway. I don’t understand how you of all people are against me on this, Bucky.”

“Uh, for starters, she’s a serial killer.”

“That’s a bit of a harsh assessment, considering the circumstances. And do I really need to remind you that the same could be said about the two of us? That a lot of people still say that about us?”

Bucky sighs, because he knows she’s right, but this is different—you are different. “It’s not the same,” he grumbles, but he’s not entirely sure it isn’t, and that’s what’s really bothering him.

“Look,” Nat says, taking a step toward Bucky, “I need to try, ok? I know what she’s going through because I went through it, except she’s completely alone out there with nothing and no one. You and I… we had people behind us, helping us.”

“And what if she says no?” Bucky asks. “Are you just gonna let her go on doing what she’s doing? She’s killed… how many is it now?”

Natasha mutters something under her breath and Bucky looks at her expectantly. “What was that, Tasha?”

“25 people in the last 6 months,” she states, her mouth set in a hard line.

“Exactly,” he says.

“I would like to point out that they were all very bad people. So...”

“Tasha,” he says, and he puts his hand up to silence her. “I can’t help you on this. I’m sorry. I want to, but I can’t.”

Natasha huffs out a laugh. “You know what, Barnes? You’re real high and mighty for a guy who–”

Natasha stops herself when she sees the ice-cold look in Bucky’s eyes. “Go on. For a guy who what?”

“Nothing,” she says. “I’m sorry. I’ll go on my own.”

“Well, good luck to you. Hope you don’t get your throat slit.”

Bucky stomps off and Natasha is left wondering if she’s about to make a huge mistake. She knows you’re volatile, that a part of you must resent her, but she needs to make it right. At the very least, she needs to try.

Natasha grabs her tablet and scrolls through the latest intel on your whereabouts. She’s just missed you in New York, but she thinks she’s got a jump on your next target: some coke dealer down in Miami with a predilection for underage girls. Just a brief glance at this guy’s file is enough to make Natasha’s blood run cold. She knows why you do what you do. If she’s honest, it doesn’t bother her one bit that you’re doing it. It’s the thought of you out there on your own, filled with hate and anger and thirsty for bloody vengeance, that frightens her. Because maybe one day—left to your own devices, lost in the chaos of your troubled mind—getting the Bad Guys won’t be enough for you. Maybe you’ll decide that some of the Good Guys aren’t so good after all. Maybe you’ll even be right.

She contemplates being honest with Steve and telling him where she’s headed but decides against it. Steve isn’t on board with her plan. Natasha doesn’t fault him for it—he doesn’t understand, he couldn’t. Bucky, though... that’s a disappointment, and it surprises her. If anyone knows what it feels like to spend your life as someone else’s weapon, it’s Bucky Barnes.

Natasha waits until nightfall to “borrow” the Quinjet, and she finds Bucky waiting for her when she gets to the hangar.

“I’m coming with you,” he says, “but only as back-up. She’s dangerous, Natasha.”

“Maybe so,” Natasha replies, “but only because she’s afraid.”

*****

You knew that she’d be coming for you sooner or later. Might as well get it over with. Your little stilt cabin on the outskirts of the Everglades isn’t quite set up for company but at least it’s tucked away and difficult to access. You’re surprised she brought him, though—that was a mistake. You and she could have a nice long conversation, but you have nothing to say to the Soldat.

You climb up the tree to your lookout platform and hoist your sniper rifle onto your shoulder, following their slow but steady progress through the knee-deep swamp water, trying to line up a decent shot as they weave in between the bald cypress trees. When you see your chance, you take it, and you put one about an inch from where the Soldat’s metal arm meets the flesh of his shoulder. It ricochets off, as intended, and he jumps forward to shield Natasha. You hear her laugh through your earpiece.

“Relax, Barnes. It was a warning shot. If she wanted to hit you, she would have.”

“She did hit me,” he snaps.

You smile as you descend from the tree to meet them.

“Well well well,” you say. “If it isn’t the Murder Twins. To what do I owe this unwanted visit?”

“You know why I’m here,” Natasha says.

“Yes,” you reply, “but why is he here?”

The man she calls Barnes looks at you with disdain and you give it right back to him. You can tell that shot in the arm really pissed him off and it pleases you to no end.

“He’s just watching my back,” she says. “That’s what happens when you’re on a team.”

“Right, The Avengers. How adorable.”

“Listen,” Natasha begins, but you stop her.

“Let me save you the trouble of whatever little speech you have prepared. I’m not coming with you. I’m not going to Widow rehab and joining your ragtag group of misfits. And I’m not going to stop doing my work just because you come here and bat your eyes and smile pretty at me.”

“Your work?” spits the Soldat. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

“Bucky, don’t-”

“Let him talk, Romanoff,” you say. “He obviously has some… opinions. Now that he’s got the mask off, he can finally speak for himself.” You take a step towards him, your rifle in hand but not pointed at him. “So speak, Soldat.”

He looks flustered and not a little bit angry. You can tell he doesn’t like to be called by that name. “Killing people isn’t work,” he says.

You huff out a laugh. “And what is it that the two of you do, exactly? Run a coffee shop?”

“We are not the same,” he says, and you smile because you know that he doesn’t actually believe that—how could he after everything he’s done?

“I think we are exactly the same, Soldat, with one huge exception: you’re still letting other people tell you what to do, and I’m done with all that.”

“This is pointless,” he says.

“Now that is something you and I actually agree on.” You turn to Natasha. “You should go while you still can. I have work to do.”

But Natasha just won’t let it go. “I should never have left you alone,” she says. “This is my fault. Let me fix it.”

“I don’t need to be fixed,” you snap, and you raise your rifle and point it directly at her head. “Leave, Natasha. And take your little pet with you.”

The Soldat grabs her arm gently. “Let’s go, Tasha. She’s hopeless.”

You feel a pang of something then—some indescribable form of melancholy. You try to keep it off your face but you can tell from the look in his eyes that he sees it. A minute tremble of your lip, the quick double blink—it gives you away, and now you’re really pissed off.

“Leave. Now,” you yell, and it pierces through the sweltering darkness. “I’ll make you sorry if you don’t.”

You watch Natasha and the bionic man make their way out of the swamp. You don’t turn your back on them, not that you think they’ll try to take you by force. That would be unwise and Natasha knows it. Once you’re satisfied that they’re gone, you return to the cabin. The bloodied man in the linen suit lays strapped to the bed where you left him, squirming and shouting around the gag in his mouth.

You have to stop yourself from making this a messy affair, but the anger you feel—at her, at him, at everything—is making it difficult to temper your darker urges. You’re not one for torture, even though this man absolutely deserves it for the horrible things he’s done. You almost give in, but you remind yourself that this is a job—it is work, despite what the Soldat may think—and you have to remain professional.

You grab the man’s file off the desk and pull a chair up next to the bed. “So, Mr. Garcia, where were we?”

CHAPTER TWO >>>

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #dark!fic #dark!reader #the widow and the wolf

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sl-walker · 3 years

Photo

All right, since I’m in the middle of a flare and have to work manual labor for the next four days despite it, I figured I would make myself -- and hopefully other people -- laugh by talking about one of my favorite OG Captain Marvel stories. Namely, from Whiz #50, with a cover date of January, 1944, meaning it was probably produced sometime in late 1943.

I want to share it because why not, this is some absurdly charming stuff.

I’ll get more into why it’s one of my favorites as we go, in the form of running commentary. So, full story (with said commentary) under the cut. If you wanna just read the story without my commentary, stick to the pictures. XD

First, let me say that the cover and splash page definitely live up to the story, though the cover’s a bit more sensationalized. But the premise is pretty damn simple: Our intrepid hero and his newsboy alter ego are on vacation. Cap decides to go swimming. It goes hilariously wrong and thus ensues a bit of a madcap adventure, no puns intended.

Second, the fact that Cap and Billy are depicted as essentially different entities makes what Billy does next the ultimate trolling:

Gee, airing out the stolen laundry on the radio? Really? I’ll leave it up to you, gentle reader, whether Billy actually was trolling his own alter-ego for ratings or whether he was just innocently sharing the story while his other-self winced quietly in whatever ether-space he exists in when not front-and-center.

Either way, I love it.

Continuing on...

I get a kick out of the fact that Billy’s monologue is that he’s no dare-devil. One, because that’s so obviously not true in any way -- (that kid is awesomely, sometimes recklessly brave on the regular even without Cap) -- but two, because the bridge is actually named Dare-Devil Bridge. We aren’t given any reason why this dangerous potential death-trap is there, hanging without so much as a gate or a warning sign or anything, because we don’t need one. It’s there specifically for what happens next.

Which, of course, is Billy calling in Captain Marvel, who does some light complaining about the situation Billy left him in. There’s no bite to it, which I find adorable -- Cap actually does get frustrated once or twice in other issues with Billy calling on him for mundane stuff, though he’s never mean about it -- but there is a bit of the sense of being put-upon there that’s just-- I dunno, cute. It’s something I miss a lot in the various post-crisis takes on the character: That duality, that difference in personality, and the way each of them responds to different situations. Often, they’re on the same page, but notably, sometimes, they aren’t.

Someday, I promise, I need to sit down and write how I think that works between those two without being a truly frightening mental illness manifested, what with them being the same person but not the same person. Because I have so many ideas, and I’ve only had since the early-2000s to percolate them. LOL! But until then, just enjoy this.

Here is another reason why I love the Golden Age Captain Marvel books and why I love this specific story: This is an absolutely normal, mundane thing to do. It’s the human thing to do. These aren’t the actions of some super-serious superdude. These are the actions of a pretty shockingly normal guy doing something mundane. And a whole story is built around that normalcy.

It’s cute. It’s funny. It’s the reader already knowing that he’s getting himself into a situation that he absolutely could have avoided, but also completely understanding how it happened anyway. It’s pretty brilliant writing: I say this as a pretty damned good writer myself.

So much of the reason why, I think, Cap was so endearing as a hero is that humanity. He’s got pretty much god-tier power in the Golden Age, once his powerset is established. He’s utterly invulnerable to all physical harm while powered up. But-- he’s human. He knows he’s human. He acts like it, and decides, “You know what? I’m going skinny-dipping.”

He and Billy are both characters it’s so easy to empathize with.

Also, a reminder that the art under Chief Artist C.C. Beck is really, really good. (He had a whole stable of artists to help produce this stuff!) Ignoring registration issues on the printing press, the actual line art is amazingly good; proportion and perspective and consistency.

But anyway--Cap does get to enjoy his swim. But, then, oh no.

I love the idea of a world where the prime hero -- and he definitely is in that world -- can take off his suit and go swimming, and where someone else is bold enough to steal the damn suit off of him. The first time I read this, I started laughing here. Not at him, but at the situation he’s found himself in. At the idea that some random passer-by saw Captain Marvel’s costume and went yoink!

Another thing I love about this particular story is how much Cap and Billy have to work together, just by necessity. Like-- it’s just really good. But anyway, thank everything Billy Batson is on the ball, coming to the rescue.

Sheer bad luck via the weather keeps this story rolling along in hilarious misdirections. Realistically, that uniform probably wouldn’t be all buttoned together (we see Cap take off pieces of it aside the pants in other issues, including socks!), but who cares? The point of the story is that giant bear rug on the floor’s gonna get put to use.

Man, when have you ever seen Superman creeping naked through some stranger’s house wearing nothing but a random polar bear because he went skinny dipping? No wonder these comics sold so well. This next panel is when I start wheezing, though, and pretty much keep wheezing.

“A lady, too! I’ve got to get away from here!”

I’m dying at this point. That’s such a characteristic response, and yet, I think that’s why it’s funny.

Anyway, because this is an excellent story (I mean this without an ounce of irony, too), our dynamic duo stumbles across a plot in play to rob the hotel they’re staying at.

Here’s a big part of why this is such a good tale: Everything fits. Even when it isn’t explained, like Dare-Devil Bridge, it still fits. Why is the tree down? Because there was just a thunder storm, the same one that blew Cap’s suit into the room with the gangsters.

I don’t know if this is Otto Binder’s story, but I wouldn’t be surprised in the least. It’s a complete story told in relatively few pages that accomplishes everything it’s meant to.

Anyway, using foliage as cover, Cap gets to be heroic----then Billy gets to get back to the business of trying to stop the robbery of the hotel and get his heroic alter-ego dressed again. Which leads to a rather adorable and funny scene of Billy not only trying to describe what Captain Marvel wears, but what size it would need to be tailored in.

(Cap is supposedly a 44 for a suit coat, we find in some earlier appearance, which would refer to his chest size. So, an XL for shirts and suit-coats. He’s a big guy, but he’s actually not a hulking huge guy. But more on that later.)

I love the fact Billy tries to like-- use himself as a model. Maybe in another ten years, kiddo. Billy’s actually pretty buff for like a 12-14 year old, he’s not a scrawny kid at this point, but yeah, no. LOL!

Another thing I also really, really love about this style, though, is that they draw Captain Marvel as being strong, as having a powerful build-- but not as a dehydrated body-builder with deep cuts. He’s got human proportions, regardless of his strength; he’s got a human build, not a superhuman one.

C.C. Beck had a lot of things to say about superheroes who were just muscles on top of muscles, all clearly defined, and he didn’t like it. As someone who first got into comics in the early 90s with Jim Lee’s X-Men--

I do get Beck’s point. I not only get it, but I really highly approve of it. He maintained to the end that he drew (and oversaw) the Marvel family to look like high school and college athletes, and I can see that. I think the one person who’s gotten it right in the modern era is Evan “Doc” Shaner, who did Convergence: Shazam! He not only nailed that strong-but-not-hulking build for Cap, but also how young he looked. College-age, in fact.

But anyway, enough digression into art and why I like this better than most modern takes on the character. Also, that’s just a cute set of panels.

I also like that there wasn’t an easy fix there. Cap’s still in his not-birthday suit, and Billy’s still stuck running around trying to solve the issues at hand. Next comes some other really good panels:

-snorts- He’s locked in. Yeah, that’ll hold him.

Anyway, what I really liked here was again that tandem working; Billy can’t punch through a wall, but Cap can. Cap can’t crawl out while he’s au natural -- well, he could, but he’d probably rather die first -- but Billy’s got no such issue. It’s just fun when you get to see them doing something like that. You have to really think for a minute about the trust each of them must have in their alter-ego.

ANYWAY, we get the rare treat then--

--of Captain Marvel not only yoinking a dude into a dark room, but then stealing his clothes. Except, not his underwear. Because that’s nasty. LOL!

I love that in this series, you do actually get to see him wear other stuff. Go incognito. Get his red suit messed up enough to take it to a dry cleaner’s, wherein he ends up dressed like a musketeer after. Jerry Ordway’s series is, I think, the only other time we see Cap not wearing his famous suit, but it happened enough in the Golden Age that it wasn’t a shock.

Like, I hate to be the one to say this, but I do think DC drops the ball often on just how much you can do with Captain Marvel (or Shazam, depending on timeline, but that’s the wizard’s name to me so mostly I’ll stick with the original name) if you unbend enough to. It’s not just the costume change, or the duality of him and Billy being the same but not, but also his inherent, essential humanity.

But I am digressing again, sorry. XD I just feel strongly enough about these versions of these characters to spend hours writing this.

Anyway, only a single panel later:

And that’s that! Billy Batson has just outed his own alter-ego’s most embarrassing moment to whomever’s listening to WHIZ radio -- thank everything podcasts and the internet weren’t available then, ha! -- and we get to see a recounting of a very fun story.

Like I said earlier, I love this one for its essential humanity. The hero got himself into this mess, he and Billy got him out of this mess, and stopping the criminals was actually just kind of a lucky stroke thrown in there. But even though Cap got himself into this, the story never treats him like he’s stupid. It never treats him like he’s some kind of idiot. You’re laughing, but-- not in a mean way.

I love how human it is. How complete it is. How genuinely funny it is. It’s a thousand times more funny when you genuinely love and respect Captain Marvel and Billy Batson, too.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this dissertation on a skinny-dipping hero. LOL! I enjoyed sharing it with you.

#dc captain marvel #billy batson #shazam #whiz comics

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icharchivist · 3 years

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Perhaps random but I think it would have been neat if the kid survived and Siegfried had to figure out how to be the main parental figure to a newly orphaned child (and the kid having found family with all the Knights and chickadees)

oH i lOVe the idea actually????

ok actually this. this inspired me a lot so, under the cut some thoughts about it.

Like, especially with the guilt... I think the thing with SIEGFRIED event is that since everyone was dead, he couldn't let the guilt weight on him and he had to move on yaknow? but seeing that Gunther was alive brought all the guilt back.

so i feel like if Licht had survived, Siegfried probably would have to wrestle even more with his guilt. There's also the fact that it means that right after his parents got brutally murdered, Siegfried would have taken Licht on the battlefield to finish it up, protecting the kid... could even see perhaps putting him in Vane's care (since he was the one who didn't have a responsibility to fight and Siegfried already trusted him at that point) for the end of the battle.

Meaning, that the Knights would have probably set themselves as close to Licht as early as that point. Lancelot and Percival would ask questions to Siegfried, which would be painful to answer about, but all of them would probably immediately have involved themselves with Licht to lighten up the burden on their captain's shoulders.

And Siegfried would have done as much as possible for that kid. Making sure he grew up well. With also the constant crisis of "i don't know how to raise a CHILD i grew up in the WILDs", and at this point he wasn't close enough from the Knights to really just, turn to them.

But i could see especially the vice captains notice his turmoil even if Siegfried isn't ready to tell them he doesn't know what he's doing, and both would start to involve themselves, pick up the little details Siegfried let through showing he's in distress and would work with it.

i'm not making a tangente i refuse but the idea of Percival knowing that this kid basically had his mother bleed out next to him because of a rebel civil war he was next to?? great now he worked his way from triggered to dotting uncle thank you very much for your time

to make it fair with the other two: Lancelot would also try to help out as much as possible and honestly i feel like Vane would have been around much more because Lancelot would talk about Licht to him in their downtime and i can see Vane force his way in in the captain's office because he made cookies and he thinks the kid needs it. (and well honestly with the fact Vane's parents ALSO died in front of him, he'd probably also be extremely dotting on top of his usual "good with kids" attitude)

Lancelot is the only one i don't have a clear idea of what he'd do as a babysitter type tbh (he’d give the kid a blade and probably propose to train him i think, to let out his feelings, which... works but probably would have to happen slowly, like. in a few months.) but i think out of the 3 he'd probably be the one especially seeking to know Siegfried's feelings and how he's holding up.

And i think Siegfried would probably open up earlier to them, and learn from them as he can, while also seeking guidance with King Josef and reading up a lot of books about it.

I also think there will be a conversation with Josef about how Siegfried mentioned that he expected he'd die any day so he didn't use to build a future, right? I think this is the sort of things that it's something Siegfried would reflect on again with Josef having Licht around, because now it is becoming clear to Siegfried that his life isn't just his own to live and die for now, but that he can't afford to die and let this kid alone again.

There's also the fact that i think Siegfried lives in the castle? as Josef's bodyguard, it's more handy, it's not like he has a house from his before-knights time and i don't really see him getting a special house when he can carry his duty in the castle. So it would be also a question of adjusting for a life for Licht in the castle as well, one that i can see Josef accept. Otherwise, Siegfried could wonder if it wouldn't be better for the kid to grow up in an actual house and probably plan moving out (which could set up a lot of guilt for later when Josef died)

But also there's the question of leaving Licht alone. because in the trauma of watching his parents die in front of him, i think Licht would also have a period of coping that would be difficult to adjust for. Even with Siegfried's best attempt to learn how to raise a child, nothing is really preparing him as how to raise a child with trauma. And i think that would be more complicated while Siegfried would also grow extremely dotting and probably hyperalert to the kid's reactions.

And Mainly i feel like in the first few months it would be difficult to leave Licht completely alone, so Siegfried would delegate as many missions he can to the vice captain in the first few months in order to stay with Licht. Eventually when Licht would have got used to the knights Siegfried would trust, there will be a rotation of taking care of him.

But i also wonder if keeping the child in the barracks is a good idea, i think the child should avoid places where fighting happens a lot in the first few months at least, lest it triggers him again.

So there would be a delicate situation to deal with in that specific period.

Overall though while it would be clumsy, Siegfried would learn how to help as much as possible. I don't think Licht would especially think that Sieg could have done anything to stop the drama from happening, but also we don't know Licht's personality at all so it's free game. Licht could initially had held a grudge against Sieg that Sieg would have to work with as well while he's helping Licht heal... so i feel like the kid would be really non verbal and sometimes a bit rebellious against Sieg early on, as a coping mechanism, until the two of them manage to communicate more. On the long run, Licht would no longer have any grudge and come to accept Sieg as a father figure.

I think eventually i could see Licht grow to want to be a knight as well, like his father and his new father were. Perhaps also in the hopes to not have the sort of things that happened to his family happen again.

NOW the other problem however lies in the fact that there's the whole "Siegfried being framed for the murder of King Josef" incident where Siegfried had to disappear on the run.

imo it's implied Sieg didn't have the time to adjust around that, since he was found on top of the corpse and had to run away immediately.

and it raises the question of what would have happened with Licht in that meantime.

So also for starter i think it would have added guilt on Sieg's conscious to think that maybe, if he didn't have to focus as much on Licht, he could have been there for the King... I mean WE know that wouldn't have changed anything, but Sieg doesn't.

Then, there's the fact Sieg really would have difficulties coming back for Licht. I'm sure people would already have told the kid of his crime, or would watch the kid closely in the hope to catch Sieg. As a result, Siegfried probably could not approach Licht at all.

if he could have, would have he taken Licht along with him on his exile...? Mhmm. I think if Licht came to find him on his own, perhaps, with a lot of protest from Sieg about making the kid a criminal with him, if Licht manages to follow his tracks.

Else if not... I could see Licht staying in the castle for a while. Percival would be gone but Vane and Lancelot would still both visit the kid i think. Both would still be aching from Sieg's betrayal but they are both mature enough to not project it on the kid after all. But both also do believe in Sieg's guilt so i feel like it would be tricky.

Like i think Licht may hold on to thinking Sieg was framed, but it would be difficult to make it through Lancelot and Vane. Lancelot was extremely stubborn on this topic and i feel like Lancelot would avoid the topic at all cost and perhaps even leave the room when it's brought up. He wouldn't want to be rude to the kid, maybe he'd lie with a smile that perhaps so, but i feel like this is the one topic he would have been able to budge from, even with Licht insisting.

So Vane would be the one trying to ease the situation with Licht, listening to him, saying that he wants to believe Sieg didn't do that either... everything is against Sieg though and he can't ignore that. But he wants to believe he's wrong.

And i think Vane's position especially, as he's not sure, would be really helpful for Licht because else everyone else would probably try to drive in his mind that Sieg is the worst and all.

I could especially see Isabella usually ignoring the kid as something that's none of her concerns, until she starts to realize what a threat he can be by thinking Sieg is innocent and talking about it loudly, or what a tool he could be against Siegfried if she plays her cards right. Thus i could see her try to manipulate Licht, drill in his head that after all, he let his parents to die, why is that surprising that he'd kill the king?

It'd be a lot for the kid to deal with, but i'd like to think that even if he became unsure, he'd stand by Siegfried. If only because, as his Dad:tm: Sieg would have talked to him about how close he was to Josef so this wouldn't add up.

In those years growing, if apart, Licht would focus even more to learn how to fight in order to find Siegfried again and get his answers.

Since Gunther and Siegfried both were knights i'm sure he would be taken into the order without problem, in a pre-Lancelot-allowing-everyone-in era of the Order. As an apprentice of course because he's still young in that timeline, but he'd work it out.

by the time of Defender's Oath, i'd picture Licht, hearing about Sieg having been seen, starting to insist to Lancelot to be let to join the patrols with them. Lancelot would probably refuse... and I think Licht would have learnt very well from Siegfried for the little time they spent together to completely disobey that order and start to tally them. He'd get his answers no matter what.

I can see Defender's Oath happening the same way, without Licht meeting with Siegfried until the end of the story, or him meeting him halfway through and learning the truth from Sieg and being relaxed. He knew it! He always believed in him he knew it!

After those events though mhmmm i don't think Siefried would like to leave the kid alone again but he did have a problem where he felt he didn't belong in the country anymore, which is why he joined the crew. I think he would have a hard time just staying in the country and would probably ask Licht if he wants to come with him. And i think we can have it in a way where Licht wants to continue his training as a knight, but also come to join the crew and visit once in a while to stay with Siegfried.

When the chickadee's crew get formed, i think Licht would be about their age wouldn't he? I think he'll probably join this special group, and kind of be the senpai of them all since he has good relationships with the knights.

I could see him not saying outright that he's linked to Siegfried: probably reminders of the time Siegfried was a parriah and Licht would have not disclosed that he was his adoptive son to try to keep a low profile. The moment the kids learn it though? especially Arthur and Mordred? Man the starry eyes are real! they'd be asking about it all the time!

Overall growing up i feel like Licht would stay more with the order than with Siegfried, in the hope to grow up as a good knight, someone who can protect others and all of that, focusing more on himself than on his family

but he'd always be grateful and loving to Siegfried and Siegfried would still be a dotting father. I can see Sieg bringing back so many things to Licht from his travels, like he does to MC in his birthday lines, especially good luck charms. They'd be really right.

And if Gunther reappears like in the event, it would be under the assumption he believes Licht died that day. Licht probably wouldn't get involved with the story of that event until the moment Siegfried goes missing, in which he starts to insist with the knights that he wants to join the mission. But hearing his own father is alive and is responsible for all of this? Would make it so conflucting for the kid to deal with.

I could see Licht staying restless but going with the Chickadee on their missions to find the alma, and come back in time to see Gunther basically torture and mind control Siegfried into a beast. I think it would cement him on Siegfried's side no matter what Gunther would say, and when he appears on the battlefield, would probably confront Gunther himself.

and there i feel like the events would be a little different as Gunther have to face the fact not only his kid is alive, but he disapproves of his actions, and refuse to believe in the guilt Gunther puts on Siegfried.

but ultimately i think Gunther would still be stubborn on his end... Unless?

that's about where i'm running out of imagination here ahah but hooooly shit 2k words on all of this.

I think it'd be interesting to see Siegfried grow to be a dad and see how Licht would grow as well. I think there's a lot of room for it to happen smoothly.

that was fun to think about at least! thanks for the ask nonny :3c

#if you're the same nonny than the percival/sandalphon post hi sorry this one inspired me more on the go DLKFJDLF #i need more brainjuice for the other but this one was fun to think about #hope you don't mind that read ahah #thanks for the ask and take care!!#ichafantalks gbf #ichablogging gbf #ichablogging 4kishi #ichareply #anonymous #ichablogging gbfhcs

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ransomedrogue · 3 years

Text

Tales of Woe - Scenes from S1

...there are no words to properly describe the awesomeness of this episode! so good every time. in honour of her first appearance, special Allie POV! Basically it’s just three conversations this week (to make them talk and think about what happened :D )

PS you have to squint a little to fit these scenes all into the timeline of the ep but that’s the joy of fic.

1.9

There was really no reason for her to be in the locker room, other than extreme curiosity. But Allie figured the gorgeous new FBI consultant wouldn't pick up on that. And even if this 'Jane Doe' did, it wouldn't matter much anyways - Allie wasn't exactly shy. She'd probably end up just telling the truth, which would only make the situation more disconcerting for the other woman.

She wasn't exactly sure what she even wanted from an encounter with the tattooed woman; just a chance to check her out really. The stunned look on Kurt's face when Jane had appeared in that dress had made her both slightly jealous and highly curious. In her entire relationship with Kurt Weller he'd never looked at her, or anyone else, like that. So when she'd seen the object of Weller's attention enter the locker room immediately after they returned from their mission, Allie had slipped in too.

It turned out to be a solid tactic when she heard Jane struggling in the stall, obviously somehow stuck in her dress. Considering the stories she'd heard that day from the rest of Kurt's team about the woman’s exploits thus far, it seemed completely implausible that she'd been foiled by her outfit. But Allie definitely heard muffled cursing coming from the stall, along with a grunt of irritation.

"You need some help in there?" she called out.

There was a fairly long pause before Jane sighed.

"Um, yeah," she replied sheepishly, opening the door.

Allie stepped up to take a look at the situation, which ended up being a classic case of a jammed zipper. With a little wiggling, she freed the zipper pull from the fabric it was stuck on and then unzipped the dress the rest of the way, revealing all the tattoos that weren't covered up.

Unsurprisingly, Jane was wearing the most basic of underwear, despite the dress she'd been wearing. Allie eyed her inked skin and her fit body with interest, her mind wandering in a few different directions as Jane shyly got dressed in her regular clothes. She wondered how many of the tattoos Kurt had seen. Somehow she was sure he would eventually see them all, up close and personal. A small part of her wanted to see the rest of them too.

"So what happened out there?" Allie asked, interrupting her own thoughts and breaking the silence.

"Uh. All things considered, it turned out pretty well," Jane replied. "We were lucky Reade and Zapata showed up when they did though. I was out of ammo and there were a lot of guys."

It was an incredibly bland answer, one that didn't mention Weller directly at all. But also a perfectly normal and acceptable response to what had been asked. Clearly she needed to dig a lot deeper to find out what she wanted to know.

"And how did it go with Kurt? Being married and all that?"

Allie didn't fully know why she was putting Jane on the spot like that, except that there was a need on her part to take back some of the power she'd obviously lost. She'd liked a lot of things about Kurt Weller and he'd once liked a lot of things about her too. It was only natural she'd wondered that day if she still held any sway over him.

And that question had been answered as soon as Jane showed up in the dress that was lying in heap in front of them now. Which had immediately been intriguing, even though Allie didn't particularly like losing at anything. Especially when she'd been pitching real hard for Kurt's attention.

Who was this woman that could make him stare like that?

That's what Allie was going find out.

Jane was still standing there in front of her, cornered in the stall and looking uncomfortable with the shift in conversation. But being a US Marshal made Allie used to long silences in interrogations and so she left the question just hanging between them, waiting for a response.

Finally, Jane looked at her and offered an awkward shrug.

"Um. He was very… attentive."

Allie smirked, knowing how Weller could be. He was old school, very 'protect my woman' even though he tended to choose deadly women.

Good answer, she thought. Point for Jane.

"I'm sure he was. Kurt can be pretty possessive."

"Was he?" Jane asked, timidly. "When you… uh…"

"When we dated?" Allie replied. "Actually, not usually. Just after a few drinks and some guy gets handsy at the bar, you know."

Jane made a face like maybe she didn't know at all and was trying to wrap her head around the comment. Allie was thinking she kind of liked the deadly yet innocent consultant, a lot more than she thought she would.

"But I bet he was with you. Especially out there, all alone, without any backup," Allie said.

"I bet he was all over you."

Jane made a face that confirmed exactly what had just been said and Allie grinned, feeling like she'd accomplished her mission. She'd gotten a sense of the situation between her ex and his new interest, which pretty much told her what she'd originally thought.

"Anyways, I'll let you get dressed," Allie said, finally turning to leave the stall.

Jane stammered some sort of thanks for freeing her from her dress but Allie was already on her way out of the locker room, with a new mission in mind.

It was time to find Kurt and put him to a little test; one she already knew he was going to fail.

###

"But aside from that you won't find a better man."

The US Marshal's words were still repeating in her ears even after Jane had returned the ring and Weller had gone off to put the props away. She had walked away from the one-sided conversation with Kurt's ex with her brow furrowed; puzzled about Allie's behaviour and a little startled at the implication of her words. Weller wasn't actually hers at all, despite how natural it had felt being ‘married’ to him for the day. Though she did feel his walls breaking down a little - he was talking to her more since she'd asked if they were friends.

Her relationship with him had already been a whirlwind and nothing had really even happened yet. She liked to think they'd settled into a good place after their stint of boundary setting; somewhere with a safe amount of distance for both of them. But of course she still thought about it, what it would be like to be with Weller. To be able to touch him the way they'd slid in and out of each other's hands that day.

They had fit so well together, both professionally and... physically. And then there'd been the way he behaved – so angry and jealous, with a heat that made it seem like more than an act. Which had startled her at first; but when he'd called her his wife in that fierce tone, a warm ripple had passed through her body.

That was all over now though. She'd returned the ring and dress, and was back in her regular clothes, feeling so much more comfortable with herself. Though she hadn't exactly minded the way Weller had looked at her; especially since it had all happened in front of his ex.

Which brought her back to her confusion about Allie. When the Marshal had hugged Weller so familiarly that day it had elicited feelings from Jane that she'd never experienced before. The idea of Weller having a girlfriend had previously just been a vague concept, not something she'd ever paused on for long. But now she had all sorts of thoughts and questions and feelings about Kurt and his past and future romantic relationships.

Especially now that Allie had just implied that Weller was somehow Jane's, even though nothing had actually changed in their relationship. No matter how he had acted while they were 'married', it was all part of his job. He was the lead agent on her case, as well as her boss. Sure, she had a lot of complicated feelings about him but all that was really between them was an ancient connection, a lot of unresolved guilt and a neediness on her part. She knew he cared about her. But that was due to his past, and because it was his job. In their current existence, they were just settling into being friends. He was actually coming over for the housewarming party that night, which was nice, especially after the day that they'd had together.

That was just an act, Jane reminded herself sternly as she approached the elevator.

Jane stirred herself out of her thoughts as she pressed the down button and waited. She wanted to get back to the safe house before everyone came over, though she wasn't exactly versed on what she was meant to do as the host of a housewarming party. Especially since the idea had been foisted on her by drunk Zapata and Patterson, who wanted to both see the place she escaped from and make Weller come out with the team. Jane had still been a bit surprised that Kurt had enthusiastically approved of the plan, despite how sure both the other agents had been about it. Which had resulted in a lot of smirking and pointed eyes looks in her direction when he immediately took the idea and ran with it.

So maybe it hadn't all been an act.

Jane was blushing a bit just thinking about it when Kurt approached again and let his gaze fall over her. He was standing awfully close too; so close she could feel the heat coming off his body. She was trying to not think about dancing with him earlier, but it was nearly impossible to keep the memory out of her mind. It didn't matter that he wasn't in the tux anymore, just the scent of him was enough to evoke the feeling of his hands on her body.

"Do you want a ride home?" Weller asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Jane prayed her cheeks weren't as red as they felt, and she tried her hardest to put those thoughts away. Any other day she could tell Weller that her detail would drive her but he was coming over for the housewarming so there wasn't any good reason not to ride with him. Especially because he was cutting out before the rest of the team was done for the day; an extreme rarity. And her body kept inching towards his, as if pulled by a gravitational force.

"Uh, sure," she stammered, without any of the confidence she'd felt while playing his wife.

Weller grinned at her response and ushered her into the just-arrived elevator car, then pressed the door close button as soon as they got in. Jane tried her best not to stand too near but now it was Kurt who kept closing the space between them, until her shoulder was touching his.

It was strange, but as soon as his body made contact with hers, Jane felt calmer. Especially when he gave her a little nudge, as if to say 'relax.'

They didn't talk on the way down to the vehicle, but the silence was anything but awkward. There were a lot of furtive glances and semi-smiles, some conversing with their eyes. Jane could tell that Weller was also thinking about the day they'd had and she liked the expression it brought to his usually serious face.

She thought back to earlier again. How possessive he'd been. He'd implied it was part of the act. But it hadn't felt that way. Maybe because, even now, he hadn't quite stopped behaving that way.

Once they were driving, Jane wondered if they were going to talk about the day, or pretend it had all never happened. Fairly quickly she got her answer, as Weller turned to her with an unreadable expression.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable out there today," he said. "Things got pretty… close there for a moment."

Jane frowned, biting down hard on her lip, wondering if he meant the shootout they'd been about to lose or how physically entangled their bodies had been. Because that part had certainly not been the problem. Being so close, having his hands all over her; it had felt more than a little comfortable.

"I think I might have come off like a possessive asshole."

Jane snapped her head up to look at him in surprise. He sounded a little anxious, like he wasn't sure how to navigate the situation. Which was rather adorable considering how forceful he'd been in the moment.

"You were acting pretty jealous," Jane commented, matter-of-factly.

"Well, he shouldn't have been touching you like that!" Weller retorted.

Jane grinned, and flashed him a wink. He still sounded pissed off just thinking about it. Which, she had to admit, was kind of cute.

Weller caught on that she was just playing with him and most of his anger dissipated; though his next words were still a bit huffy.

"Even if you're not my wife, I'm not going to let some creep do that to you."

The way he looked at her as he said it made Jane feel warm on the inside, but a little confused as well. She could obviously take care of herself. It certainly wasn't on Kurt to defend her honour. And yet, she liked that he wanted to.

"Weller. Calm down," Jane sighed. "It's over."

Kurt exhaled and looked back at the road for a bit as he took her advice and refocused his energy. She wondered at his anger, so long after the fact. Sure, the guard had taken full advantage of the situation in an unseemly manner, but Weller's emotions about it hadn't died off, even now.

Finally, as they were nearing the safe house, Kurt turned to her with a bit of a sheepish look.

"I'm really glad we still get to do this. For a minute there I was worried about what I'd gotten you into."

Jane wondered about his admitting that. He'd seemed confident the entire time. Though she'd started to be fairly concerned when she ran out of ammo and more attackers kept appearing.

"We would have figured something out," she said, brushing the near-miss out of her mind.

That won her a full grin from Kurt.

"Yeah," he said. "We made a good team didn't we."

There was another heady pause between them as Weller pulled the SUV up in front of the safe house and parked. But then, before they had a chance to get out, he turned to her and blurted out a question.

"What did Allie say to you?"

Jane felt a flutter in her stomach and panic in her chest. She didn't want to actually tell Kurt what the Marshal had said. So there had to be some way around it, without using exact words.

"Um. I think she thinks there's uh… something going on between us? Or that there should be."

It was the best she could do to sum up her strange contact with Weller's ex. But when Kurt didn't reply for a long time and just sat there with a pensive look on his face, Jane figured she must have said something wrong. Looking at him nervously, she waited to hear that him proclaim that she was making things up or massively misreading the situation.

But when Weller finally replied, he also sounded a bit confused.

"Yeah," he nodded. "That's the vibe I got too."

"Sorry about that, I don't know what's up with her. It's been awhile."

Jane felt all her anxiety wash away immediately and she bit back a smile. She'd rather liked the Marshal, despite her initial reaction at discovering the pretty agent was Kurt's ex. And she definitely liked that Allie thought Weller was over their relationship and had moved on to a new interest.

Shrugging, Jane flashed Kurt a sly grin.

"I guess we were too good at the act," she commented.

They were, and she knew it.

"That Rich Dotcom guy sure bought it."

Weller groaned and rolled his eyes at the mention of the ridiculous dark web kingpin they'd just apprehended.

"Hopefully we never have to see that guy again," he muttered.

"I don't think I'd be able to stop myself from shooting him."

###

Weller walked Jane into the safe house with a nerves tingling up and down his spine. The last time he'd been in there with her he'd ended up running off before he did something inappropriate. And now he knew what it felt like to hold her close and run his hands along her curves.

At the moment he had his arm lightly draped behind her back, hovering as if waiting to catch her from some unseen danger. Then, when he opened the door and she stepped in, his hand glanced against her hip for a brief second and it took everything in him to pull it away before his palm slid up to her waist the way it had earlier that day.

Quickly Kurt flushed the memory from his mind and reminded himself that he had to stay professional. Despite what Allie had implied, there wasn't anything going on between him and Jane and he meant to keep it that way. If he acted on his feelings towards her any more than he already had, he would probably be forced to withdraw from her case. Which was a consequence he wasn't willing to risk, no matter how attracted he was to her.

Shaking himself back into the present, Weller put the beers he'd brought into the suspiciously empty fridge and the snacks on the counter. When he was done putting things away, he noticed that Jane was standing in the kitchen looking a little lost so he opened two beers and handed her one.

"Cheers," he said, with a grin.

"To another successful mission."

They clinked bottles and Jane took a few sips before she offered him the same helpless look she'd been wearing since they came in.

"I'm sorry. I don't really know what I'm supposed to do," she stammered.

Weller's grin grew as he took in her nervousness. She hadn't been nearly this anxious when stranded with him alone in the field, pretending to be married and facing a small army on their own. Or when he'd made her dance with him at the party, knowing that he might never get another golden opportunity like that.

"Relax," he replied. "How about you show me around?"

It was a bit pointless since it was just another standard FBI safe house and Weller had certainly seen enough of those in his career. But Jane gave him a thankful smile at his suggestion and toured him through the place, all of it as non-descript as he imagined until they returned to the living room and he noticed the sketches on the wall.

"Did you do these?" he asked, staring at the incredible detail in the art.

Jane nodded as she stepped up next to him, suddenly looking shy again.

"They're amazing," he added.

"Is there anything you can't do?"

Jane blushed.

"Uh. I don't know how to host a housewarming party?"

Weller laughed.

"Jane, stop worrying. The rest of the team will be here soon and then we'll order pizza. All you have to do is relax and have a good time."

She sighed and gave him a sheepish look.

"Sorry. Sometimes I still feel like I have no idea what I'm doing."

Kurt laughed again.

Could she be any more adorable? Deadly and capable as hell but still lacking confidence in many ways.

"You did fine at the party today," he said.

"Why don't we just sit down and wait for everyone else?"

Jane still looked unsure so Weller took the lead and sat down on the couch, then gave her an expectant look. Which finally drew a grin from her as she rolled her eyes and joined him on the sofa.

It was a little weird sitting there with her, but not really. He could still feel it, that rightness between them. It had been like that all day, the way his arm fit perfectly around her.

Weller's mind drifted right back to dancing with her, rueing the fact that there wasn't likely to be another mission that involved that sort of interaction. Then his brain flashed to Jane asking if he'd ever been married and her confession about having been engaged at some point.

It made him irrationally upset thinking that she possibly had a fiancé, and not for the poor fiancé who'd lost his gorgeous future wife. Obviously Kurt knew what it meant, that he wanted her to be his. But she wasn't and she couldn't be - it would only make him more goddamned not 'objective' like everyone already said.

Weller growled at himself, trying to put all of it out of mind. They were friends, and it had to stay like that for the sake of the investigation.

"Can I ask you something?"

Kurt was knocked out of his internal battle by Jane's timid question, and he immediately focused in on her again.

"Of course," he replied.

It took her a moment to continue and he loved watching the emotions dance across her features as she thought about her next words.

"What happened between you and Allie?" Jane finally asked.

"She seemed pretty happy to see you again."

That was twice she'd asked about his relationship with Allie, which definitely gave his ego a little boost. He liked that Jane cared enough to question him about it, even if he didn't really want to discuss his failed love life with her.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbled, trying his best to play things cool.

"I guess she forgot we weren't a very good fit."

That much was true. He'd been surprised that Allie had propositioned him again, despite all their issues the first time around. She'd been pretty clear that he hadn't been able to meet her needs, and he didn't think her memory was that short.

Jane gave him a look that implied she didn't believe him and Weller sighed. How was he supposed to characterize a relationship that ended because he was emotionally unavailable?

"There was a lot of drinking and not a lot of talking," he explained.

"We had a lot of fun but she wanted more from me."

"What did you want?" Jane asked.

She sounded so innocent and earnest, yet he couldn't help but feel awkward talking to Jane about Allie. It was making him overthink things to the extreme, go down a mental path he was trying to avoid.

"To be honest, I didn't know what I wanted," he finally replied. "And I was never good at opening up."

"Yeah," Jane said. "I can tell."

Weller frowned with amusement at her tone, and gave her a little nudge on the shoulder.

"You keep your cards pretty close to your chest too," he grumbled.

"You remembered being engaged? When did that happen?"

"Not until you put the ring on my hand," she said, seeming to blush a bit, though he couldn't quite tell in the dim light.

"Were there any clues about who he might be?" Weller asked, recognizing that he was prying and unable to stop himself from doing so. At least he could pretend it was due to the case.

"No, but I did remember later that I gave the ring back," Jane said, a little sadly. "And I think I've dreamt about him before."

The fact that she'd given the ring back shouldn't have made him so pleased but it still did. The thought of a fiancé out there swooping in to claim Jane as his own turned his stomach, and the chances of that happening were a lot slimmer if they were no longer engaged.

Weller's internal voice tried to warn him that his emotions about her were too present after the day they'd had, and that talking about relationships with Jane, especially right then, was risky business. Yet, the next words came out anyway, before his rational mind could shut his mouth.

"Have you thought about it?" he asked. "Dating?"

Maybe he just felt the need to prepare himself for the eventuality. She deserved a life outside of the case and was certain to attract interest if she started going out more often. Or maybe he was trying to trap her into some reassurance that she also understood they were meant to be together. The thing was, even Kurt wasn't exactly sure why he was pushing the conversation in that direction.

Jane looked anxious as hell about his question, which had not been his intent at all. Yet obviously he'd put her on the spot, in an extremely awkward way.

Nice one, Weller, he groaned to himself, wondering if he could retract his words somehow. But before he could backtrack, Jane actually answered.

"Um a little bit? It would all be pretty hard to explain though."

That much was obvious, though he imagined that Jane's mysterious past would just make her more intriguing to most men. It was cute to see her so shy though; so unsure when she was generally so self-confident.

"Even just the tattoos," she continued. "Not to mention the memory thing."

The tattoos were such an integral part of her that he no longer registered them as out of the ordinary. In fact, it was strange to see her without the bird on her neck at the moment, because she hadn't yet wiped off the makeup they'd used to cover it for the mission. So it was hard to remember that the tattoos weren't ordinary at all and would prompt a lot of judgment, especially since she couldn't explain any of it, due to everything being classified.

"Your tattoos are gorgeous," he stated firmly. "They're a part of you. You shouldn't have to explain them to anyone."

"It was the only thing missing from that outfit today."

He hadn't exactly meant to let that last bit slip; would have blamed it on the beer except he'd only had half a bottle. But it didn't make the statement any less true. The thought of Jane wearing that dress while in her regular inked skin was almost too much to bear.

"Kurt, that was so not me," Jane groaned, shaking her head at him.

"Yeah well, a tux isn't me either," he replied. "But it's still nice to look good in one."

It was true after all. It had felt nice, getting the appreciative comments from Allie. Though Weller was glad he'd stopped himself from blurting out his thoughts when Jane had first appeared in that dress. Now though, he couldn't seem to help elaborating on his more muted comment at the time.

Jane blushed, which only stirred his out-of-whack emotions even further.

"Sorry," he apologized, realizing he'd crossed a line again.

"I shouldn't go there."

"No, you're right," Jane replied with a shy smile.

"It is nice to hear. I don't usually feel very pretty."

Of all the words she could have spoken, those ones completely knocked his socks off. Her lack of self-recognition was bewildering- it seemed impossible that Jane didn't know how beautiful she was. Either dressed up for a gala or just in a tank top and jeans.

His hands wanted to reach for her and confess all of his thoughts. Weller even felt his arm moving towards her, as if by its own accord. He could feel the crumbling of his internal walls and was seriously about to give himself away when there was a knock at the door and they could hear Patterson's voice through it.

Weller was thrown out of his reverie by the noise and breathed a sigh of relief. He'd nearly acted on feelings he was trying his best to repress, and that would have likely led to all sorts of complications. Yet he couldn't just let the conversation end where it was; so before they stood up, he managed to sneak in one more comment.

Looking at Jane seriously, he held her to the couch with his eyes for just a moment longer.

"Well. You should," he declared, in a tone that brooked no arguing.

His declaration brought a shy, sassy smile to her lips before Jane suddenly fled, muttering something about washing off the makeup before everything got started. Weller wistfully watched her run off before going to open the door; once again both cursing and blessing the others for showing up at that moment. Because he'd been about to reach out and kiss her. And he would have never been able to let go.

#blindspot #blindspot fanfic #blindspot rewatch #s1fic #i wrote this

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teaspacebar · 4 years

Text

war of hearts part v: drinks, family, and wanting

summary: cody has drinks with his boys, you have some family bonding time, and you and cody finally get a moment to yourselves.

words: 2.2k+

beta: @ambereyesandwine

taglist (open): @morganas-pendragons @deathlessdays @obiorbenkenobi @painkiller80 @abovethyfold @the-lady-of-stars @my-own-oracle

a/n: i love this part so much!! i’m bringing in more canon information to actually get a timeline down so you can see where in the clone wars story we are! i hope you all enjoy!

masterlist

When Cody went to 79’s – which was very little – he usually ended up in a shared booth with Wolffe, Rex, and Maverick. Each of the boys would spend time with their respective squad before eventually making their way to the back corner. It had the best view of the whole place and allowed them to keep eyes on their boys without hovering.

“You look jumpier than normal,” Rex commented, taking a sip from his beer.

“He’s waiting for the Commander,” Maverick replied, covering his chuckle with a cough at Cody’s glare.

Wolffe raised an eyebrow, “Yours?” At Maverick’s nod he continued, “She’s the one that stopped a civil war breakin’ out by teaching them how to make bread?” Cody tried to keep a smile off his face – he could picture the scene in his head. “She gave General Plo Koon a whole basket a’ baked goods the other day. Should’a seen her face when he said he can’t eat that kind a’ food.”

“She’s coming to 79’s, then? She’ll be recognized right away,” Rex said.

Maverick shrugged, “She doesn’t wear her robes much, plus the rest of my boys wouldn’t hesitate to start a fight if anyone gave her a hard time.”

Cody gave a quick nod in Maverick’s direction. He had grown comfortable with the Captain – the man had a good head on his shoulders and worked well with you – and Cody was glad to have the Juno Squadron looking out for you.

Cheers erupted from the bar, and Cody watched as several men crossed the room in the direction of the entrance. “Speak of the Jedi and they shall appear,” Wolffe leaned back into the booth.

Cody followed the moving figures until he saw your familiar form. You were wearing simple, black clothes – your robes gone, just like Maverick had said. He watched you glow, your smile shining so brightly he thought his chest might burst. You greeted the Juno boys, receiving hugs from Bailey and Ziggy. A drink was pushed into your hands by Flare, grin on his face. It took Cody a moment to realize that you were staring back at him. You broke the gaze momentarily to say something to Salem, who gave a nod in response.

“Aaaaand she’s coming over.” Rex clapped him on the shoulder, “I’m going to grab another drink.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Wolffe smirked, leaving the booth with Rex.

You came strolling up a few seconds later, “Did I scare the party away?”

“It’s because you’re obviously intimidating,” Maverick answered, chuckling when you poked him in the side. “I’ll go make sure that Flare doesn’t start another fight.” He sent a wink at the two of you before heading to the center of the bar.

You slipped into the booth next to Cody, leg brushing his. “Hey,” you said softly, eyes catching his.

“Hi,” he murmured back. His heart leapt as you intertwined your hands underneath the table. You looked exhausted. “Everything alright?”

You nodded, swirling your drink in your hand, “Obi-Wan has had so many meetings with the Council recently. The Republic can’t seem to get anything done, but I can barely understand politics itself.”

“You’re stressed,” Cody offered. You hummed noncommittally, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You and Obi-Wan have more in common than differences I think.”

A snort escaped you, “Because we’re both stressed? There’s a war going on that I’m not sure we can win, there’s reason to be stressed.” You sighed, “Sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He pressed his lips to your hair, relishing in the small content sound that left your lips.

“I just want us to be able to just talk about things other than what we deal with every day.” You pulled away from him, smiling, “Like what were you and the boys talking about earlier?”

“Besides the war?” You rolled your eyes, giving him a pointed look as you swiped his drink from his hand. “It was ‘clone-talk’.”

“Mhm, right.” He loved the little perturbed look on your face. Your nose scrunched and your lips formed a perfect pout that he had the urge to kiss off.

No, he hadn’t kissed you again. Not since that night at the gala a month ago. And Cody was pretty sure the tension was getting to him. Any moment he had alone with you was interrupted. Not that there were many opportunities to be alone with you at all. Cody prided himself on being a patient man, but when it came to you, it was all thrown to the wind.

“Maybe I’ll go ask Wolffe, I can bribe him with more pastries.” Cody knew your threat wasn’t real because you snuggled up closer to his side.

“We should get you back to your room before you fall asleep at the table.”

“But I want to spend time with you,” your voice was muffled by his shirt.

“C’mon Pip, I’ll walk you and that’s how we’ll spend time together.” You pulled back quickly, blinking at him. Your mouth was open in a small ‘o’. “What?”

“You’ve never called me that before.”

Oh. He hadn’t, had he? He had called you by your name, but never by the term of endearment that the Juno Squadron – and even General Skywalker and Commander Tano – called you.

He started to apologize, but you placed your hand over his lips, “You can say it. It’s nice. More than nice, actually.” You lowered your hand back into his. “Walk with me?”

He didn’t think he could ever say no to you.

“Ahsoka!”

Said Padawan yelped in surprise as you all but tackled her from behind. Laughter bubbled up between the both of you as she carried you on her back with ease. She let you down, ducking away before you could poke her in the side.

“I heard you’re heading to Ilum with the younglings?”

Ahsoka nodded, “Yep, we’re leaving in a few days. You and Master Kenobi are leaving tomorrow, right?”

“We think we’ve found a lead on Grievous,” you answered. “Which is the most good news Obi-Wan has had in a while with…Maul being back,” you had lowered your voice to a whisper.

“Anakin’s been a little weird too,” Ahsoka mumbled back.

“I’ve been a little what, Snips?”

The both of you turned to see Anakin exiting a room – which now made sense as to why Ahsoka was just lingering in the hallway – with an eyebrow raised and his arms crossed.

“She said that I am far better at Dejarik than you.” You sidled up to Anakin, nudging him with your shoulder.

Anakin snorted, “Right, I’m sure.”

“I beat Obi-Wan.” You blinked innocently.

“…you did?”

You gave Ahsoka a look, which made you both burst out into another round of laughter.

“Should I be worried you three are causing trouble?” Obi-Wan entered the hallway from the same room Anakin had been in.

“No, Master,” the three of you responded, similar grins on your faces.

You were pacing the small length of the escape pod, unaware of two pairs of eyes that were on you. Ahsoka had been kidnapped by pirates. You knew that she could take care of herself, but you cared for the other Padawan like she was your younger sister. But the younglings were stranded – alone – without help.

Which the two men watching you knew set you on edge.

Obi-Wan spoke up first, “We will go after her as soon as we are picked up.” You felt the calm that he was pushing in your direction, and you let it wash over you. You spared a glance at Cody, who still had his helmet on. As you finally sat down next to him, his gloved hand brushed against yours. It was his way of checking in, to let you know that he was there even though he couldn’t be more obvious about it since your older brother figure who was also his commanding officer was less than three feet away from you.

“Thank you, Master.” You sent a small smile toward the Jedi.

Obi-Wan was always wonderful to you. You remembered a little from when you were a youngling yourself. It was always when Master Qui-Gon would visit. Obi-Wan would join him at times and you liked it when he read to you.

It had surprised you when he had bumped into you – or you, into him – at the Jedi Archives just a few years ago. It had surprised you even greater when he had taken you on as his Padawan. You were grateful for reasons you could not even begin to explain to him. One of which was also in the escape pod with you. There were so many moments you had wanted to talk to Obi-Wan about everything with Cody, but you had seen what he thought about Anakin’s feelings for Padme. You weren’t sure if Obi-Wan knew about their very real relationship and just chose to ignore it, or if he was in denial. Not that Anakin was great about hiding it.

“They’ll be able to get us in about an hour,” Obi-Wan said, leaning back in his seat.

“You didn’t happen to bring a game of Dejarik with you? Maybe they stowed one away in here?” You grinned as both men gave you a questioning look. “I may have told Anakin that I beat you at it.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, “Of course you did.”

“I beat you at Dejarik,” Cody pointed out.

You whined, “Yes but I beat all of the boys except for Maverick.” You pouted for a moment – the boys were glad that they had diverted your attention away from the stranded children – before your mischievous grin was back on your face. “So, when do I get to see the two of you play?”

A light ‘beep’ from your comms had you jumping up from your bed and unlocking the door. It slid open to reveal a de-armored Cody standing out in the hallway on the Republic Rescue Cruiser that had picked you up. You were in-route back to Coruscant with Ahsoka and the younglings in tow – all safe and sound. You had found a vacant room on the ship that gave you a bit of distance from everyone else. After spending some time with the younglings, you had sent Cody a message to meet you there later. Which was why he was in front of you now.

You grabbed his hand, pulling him inside with a soft, “Hello.”

“I slipped away as soon as I could, we never usually–” He was cut off by you kissing the Force out of him, his back pressed against the now closed door. His hands landed on your waist, a small moan leaving his lips. He pulled his head away, ignoring the small pain that goes through his skull as it hits the door, “Pip.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” you demanded, grabbing his face with your hands to draw his lips back to yours. You needed him. It had been something you were figuring out since your first kiss. Every time his hands brushed up against you or he sent you one of his crooked smiles, heat would crawl up your neck and make its home in your cheeks.

You knew that you loved Cody.

But wanting him was an entirely different battle.

And not one that you were worried about losing as you were ready to devour him. Cody gasped, and you realized the energy that was pulsating in the room. It was like how you felt in that small closet, no space between you – except this time Cody was feeling it with you. “Okay?” You mumbled against his lips, afraid to overwhelm him. His only response was to grab the backs of your thighs and lift you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. You giggled, kissing him sweetly. He carried you to the small bed, sitting on it so you could straddle him. He ran a hand through your hair, running his thumb down the side of your face. His warm eyes were gentle, hard lines of his face softened into something that was just for you.

“I thought we were going to talk about it before we did anything else,” the words left his lips and you could tell he was almost disappointed in himself. You sighed, knowing that the logical part of his brain was correct. Everything with him just felt right. You started to lift yourself from his lap, but he tugged you back down.

You quirked an eyebrow, “If we’re going to talk, I can’t be sitting on you.”

Cody narrowed his eyes playfully, and you enjoyed the lightness that seemed to envelop him. “Am I that distracting?”

“Yes, Cody.” He finally let go, allowing you to get up and sit beside him on the bed. You looked at him expectantly.

“I-uh,” he cleared his throat, “you and me, we’re–”

“I care about you,” you said simply. It was the truth. There was much more to that, but you understood that Cody wasn’t great with words about feelings. “And I know that there are a bunch of regulations and expectations. But I care about you and I don’t want to lose this.” You touched his scar with the tips of your fingers, and Cody leaned into your hand.

“We’ll look out for each other,” Cody provided.

“Like we always do,” you finished, a yawn escaping you.

“You should sleep.” The deadpan look on your face had him chuckling and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You easily switch from sitting to laying on the bed, “Stay with me?”

He was right.

He couldn’t say no to you.

#war of hearts #commander cody x reader #swtcw #padawan!reader #commander cody #star wars the clone wars

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fallenrepublick · 4 years

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If these are still open... can I request a part 2 of our Feral family? Possibly with Maul and his reaction to seeing this other brother of his and also that he actually has a family of his own? We get to see more interaction between Savage and Feral's children as the boys just adore their uncle? While, of course, Feral is making them a nice home meal to let his pregnant wife relax with their coming daughter. I love this family and they shall live on!!

This ended up long as fUck but it was cute, so whatever

Here is the first part.

Warnings: A screwy timeline

“Did I not tell him to stay with the ship…”

Having thoroughly scoped out the land and finding it annoyingly peaceful, Maul had returned to where he had landed with Savage hours later only to find the ship… empty. It was unlike him to wander around anywhere without reason, but even more unlikely that the over two meters tall Zabrak had been captured, especially not by people like these. The only reasonable conclusion, Maul decided, was that something had caught his brother’s eye and he had chosen to follow it.

He turned in the direction of the nearby village, the faces of the houses and buildings obstructed by thick forest life and plants taller than any natural greenery Maul had ever been in the presence of. He trekked forward, unsteady footing slowing down his pace, and pushed through the vines and leaves that blocked his path. Mumbling to himself as he walked, he dearly hoped, for Savage’s sake, that whatever he had followed was worth it.

The forest ended at the edge of the village, loud lively, many residents having taken to the streets enthralled in conversation and tasks, some children running to fro as they played. It hadn’t seemed like Savage had been through there, but then again, one could never be too sure.

As he began walking amongst the people, his vision glazed over the people largely too interested in their own business to notice a stranger traveling within their midst. Faces of various colors blurred together in a haze of surreal memories. He understood, at least a little, the appeal of this planet, the rainbow of appearances that spanned not only through the population but also the environment kept everything interesting, preventing its natives from falling into the dangers of monotony.

The noise of the bustling town didn’t interest him, but one single voice stood out from the others. Though it wasn’t one he knew, there was a strange familiarity to it, as if it was one he was supposed to.

To his right stood a lone house, modest in size, but no less pretty, with multiple figures moving in the front, backlit by the lowering sun. The voice had come from there, light and cheerful, the primary trait an airiness that he hadn’t heard in a long time. Upon venturing closer, hesitance slowing his pace, he could more clearly see the family in question and the source of his curiosity.

Savage stood with the family, arms crossed in deep consideration. Beside him was yet another Zabrak, similar in color, but lighter, soft brown tattoos framing his face less intrusive than his own. He was smaller, younger, more innocent than Maul or Savage, but he held himself assuredly, as if the cruelty of reality hadn’t quite hit him yet. Or maybe it had and he had just chosen to ignore it.

Three children, varying in height, were beginning to be herded together, directed towards the house as the smaller Zabrak continued his conversation.

“-but to this day I still don’t know where the ship came from. But you know how we were, always ready to fight outsiders when the goings got tough!” His laugh was just as cheerful, ringing in everyone’s ears like bells from a clocktower in the mornings. As he spoke, he lightly elbowed Savage, who himself was smiling at his companion, more pleased than Maul had ever seen him.

Though the conversation halted when Maul approached, Savage’s smile fading as he remembered what he had even come for, and Feral’s eyes widening in surprise at the new visitor.

“Is this-” Feral began, gesturing towards Maul, who’s annoyance had faded into simple confusion when he had fully processed the scene in front of him. Savage simply nodded in response, and it wasn’t long that Feral was hurrying over to Maul, a grin plastered on his face.

“We haven’t formally met, yet!” His hand was outstretched, eager to make contact. “I’m Feral. I’m not sure how much you know about me, but I’m your brother!”

Maul took the hand, albeit reluctantly, and nodded. “I’ve heard… only a small amount. Though I was under the impression you were-”

“Dead?” Feral shot Savage a glance. “I might’ve been, if I didn’t have help along the way… Oh well, both of you should come in! I cook around here most of the time, so we can catch up while I feed the monsters.”

Savage smiled at the thought, watching as Feral led them back to the house. Maul however, remained wary, uncertain of how his brother had come to build such a comfortable life while he still struggled to get more than three hours of sleep each night.

“You look so concerned…” Savage mentioned as Maul came up beside him, brow furrowed. “I’ve known him our whole lives. Nothing bad will happen.”

Maul shook his head. “It’s not that. I just don’t understand it. How can he come from a planet like ours and still be able to maintain such… domesticity?”

“Feral was always more tame than the rest of us. I wouldn’t call it weakness, just… an aversion to the violence he was born into.” He stopped a moment, sighing as he watched his nephews race to get into the house first. “I always worried for him, hoping he wouldn’t be targeted as defective if he didn’t adapt to the harshness. He found a way, though.”

Maul said nothing, mind still contemplating the strangeness of it all. He had never considered the possibility of anything other than the power he was raised to believe in, yet here was one of his own kin, living out a life free from that constant struggle. It didn’t sit right.

Still, both followed their brother inside, the children wrestling in the living room and a female Togruta laying on the plush couch. The colors on the interior were light and natural, soft on the eyes and fitting for the natural aura of the village.

Already, Feral had prepared drinks for the company, setting cups on the wooden table outside the kitchen. His brothers sat, Savage visibly more comfortable than Maul was.

The oldest child had seemed to take a liking to Savage, lingering around him as often as possible. He couldn’t have been older than ten, head-tails still very short, encircled by budding horns that were placed more like Savage’s than Feral’s. His skin was a lighter brown, as were the stripes on his head-tails, and he carried himself with more authority than his siblings, prepared to remind him of his elder status at any moment.

“You know,” he said to Savage, leaning forward on the table’s edge, restlessly kicking up his legs. “I’m gonna be like you when I get older. I’m the biggest and the strongest of my brothers, and I’m going to make sure it stays that way!”

“It’s ah… not an easy task…” Savage replied, not wanting to admit that he effectively cheated. Maul snickered. “You’ll have to train for years if you want that to happen.”

“I don’t care!” He leapt up, arms crossing and chest puffing out. “I look kinda like you anyways, so I’m already halfway there!” Well, that’s good, at least he was aware of it.

Feral piped up as he filled a pot with water. “Terren, you’re still not done with school. Please wait until you can long divide before you do that.”

Maul felt something on his leg. It was the youngest, about two, tapping on the metal casing. Rounder and softer in features than his older brother, he was a deep green, like his mother, but the horns that just barely poked out from the area around his head tails bore a strange, uncomfortable resemblance to Maul’s when he was that age. Remarkably curious, he was easy to please as long as he got the answers he sought. And at that moment, he was seeking answers about the being in front of him that he was certain was a droid.

“Fake?” His nails tapped again, harder. Maul didn’t like children in any situation, but what he liked even less was that he found this one mildly charming. He moved his foot back, just to see what would happen, fully expecting the child to cry. But no, he simply scooched himself back with it, gaining an even closer look. “Fake.” He nodded, having determined his hypothesis correct, and placed both hands directly on top of Maul’s foot in confidence.

He really wanted to pick this kid up.

Against his better judgement and personality, he reached down and lifted the child up to eye-level, not sure what he was looking for, yet searching nonetheless. Upon seeing his uncle’s face for the first time, as he was much too small to have noticed it before, the child’s expression hardened into intense concentration. This being was certainly not a droid, and it was unfortunate that now he’d have to go back to the drawing board to discover the truth once more.

“Oh that’s Uta…” Feral said, noticing his brother holding up the young child like a small sack of potatoes. “He’s… a handful.” He laughed as he said it, the sounds of cooking food blending with his smooth voice.

Uta was still frowning, having earned his spot standing on Maul’s lap, and very clearly trying to reason out why he had been tricked before. “Real.” He pointed at Savage. “Real?” He turned to look up at Maul, whose expression was difficult to read. “Fake?”

“It’s about half and half…” Maul offered, hoping to relieve the child of what might’ve been the most stressful situation of his mini life.

“Half-av?” He considered a moment, letting the newly learned word sizzle in his mind a second. Feral tried to choke down his laugh. Uta finally nodded. “Half-av.” The answer was acceptable.

And in came the middle child, mother in tow, who was still discussing an old legend about Nautolans as he entered the room. Stalky and narrow, he was the researcher of the family. He looked most like Feral, with kind eyes turned down at the edges, his mild yellow colors dimmer than his siblings and a slight air of nervousness surrounding him like a cloud, but that didn’t stop him from opening up to his family in ways few would understand or expect. Madin was nodding thoughtfully as she listened to him, pulling out a chair so that she could also sit with everyone else.

“I, for one, don’t understand the Anselmi’s goals in the long run.” He leaned against the table’s edge closest to the kitchen as he finished his explanation. “Oh hey, I’m Forta.” He gave Maul a small two-fingered salute as his introduction.

“Out of the way, out of the way,” Feral chuckled as he waved his kids away with one arm and set down a large serving platter with another. Forta scurried over to Savage’s side, where he marveled at the sturdiness of his uncle’s armor. He began going on about various materials found throughout the galaxy, and was gushing about Beskar, while Terren tried to convince him that no one wanted to hear his boring facts.

Sitting down beside his wife, Feral rubbed Madin’s back while the three boys hurried to their seats across from them.

“You know…” he began slowly, considering the environment. “I didn’t think this sort of thing was possible, getting off of Dathomir… having something more than what we were told was allowed.” He glanced over at Savage, who met his eyes and looked down. “But I get to have all of this… and I’m so glad that you two get to be a part of that now, too. So… I guess what I’m trying to say is… Thank you. For everything.”

#feral #savage opress #maul #darth maul

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phantom-curve · 4 years

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find the strength, find the melody pt. 8

oof I don’t know if I actually like this chapter or not. imposter syndrome has taken up residence in my brain and it’s not looking to move out anytime soon. hopefully this is better than I’m giving myself credit for.

I’m gonna try and get on a more regular schedule of updating this weekly. I think we’ve got one more part to day three and then a chapter each for days four & five. there might also be another middle of the night chapter, trying to figure out if it fits into the timeline like I want it to or not. you get some sneak peaks of angsty Luke in this part which I’m kind of excited about. can’t be all soft boy all the time. gotta get that ~dimension~

also, I wrote a one-shot of Ray and Rose’s first date that was referenced waaaay back in pt. 6! it’s also the story of Tia Victoria’s 21st birthday that was referenced in pt. 7! I really love it which isn’t something I’ve felt about my writing lately so you should check it out.

taglist: @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles, @bluefyoto94, @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder, @kat-maybe-not, @lukewearingbeanies, @imastrugglingartist

Julie had expected a mess of sloppy, overlapping notes and kinks that would need to be quickly smoothed out by Friday’s performance. She had been ready to go into the Showcase and just give it their best, hoping that maybe they would sound somewhat coherent, but not really expecting much all the same. A band couldn’t be built in a day. It was part of why she thought Luke’s plan was so insane. She couldn’t have been more wrong if she tried.

Within the first three run-throughs of the song things just seemed to click into place. It was like she had been playing with them her entire life. The longer they played, the more they slipped naturally into their role as bandmates. The energy in the room, the chemistry between the four of them, was palpable. She knew they could feel it too.

It was the way Reggie turned to her at the exact moment she moved towards him, playing off of her as she gave into her need to move to the bassline vibrating through her feet. It was how Alex’s face lit up with a kind of unrestrained joy she had never seen before, face shining as he nodded his head in time with his tapping foot when she turned towards him. They laughed together as she flipped her hair out of her eyes at the exact same time he did, completely in sync as they moved to the rhythm created by his fast-moving sticks. It was every single part of Luke.

His head, tilting to the side to call her to him just as she began to drift closer to his side. His voice, blending with hers like they had been made to sing together. His eyes, drilling into hers as she held her microphone out for them to share. His fingers, so sure on the strings beneath them that he didn’t once break their stare down. The tension she had felt simmering between them for the last few days exploded. They felt it at the exact same moment as their most seamless playthrough of the song came to a close.

Julie’s voice rang out beyond the instruments as she held her final note a beat longer than everyone else. She could hear the sound of Reggie and Alex’s voices rising with enthusiasm as they talked, but she couldn’t make out their words. Everything felt a little soft on the edges as Luke gazed at her with so much awe she thought she would float off the ground. He made her feel transcendent. Like the celestial being he claimed her to be. It was hard to feel like she wasn’t in Heaven when he looked at her like that. Her breath caught in her throat. He opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly she was being jostled from behind, her moment with Luke broken. Her feet stumbled as leather-clad arms wrapped around her tightly, sweeping her into a clumsy spin.

“Julie! That was amazing!”

Reggie’s voice was sparkling, and she couldn’t help but laugh softly, giving into the all-consuming feeling of happiness that was bubbling up inside of her. They came to a stop as a longer pair of arms covered in soft pink cotton pulled them close. Julie met Alex’s eyes, giving him a grateful smile as the studio finally came back into focus. He beamed back at her, completely relaxed and damn near glowing.

“I gotta agree with Reg for once.”

Julie giggled as Reggie let out an indignant shout, lips slipping into a pout. Alex ignored him, releasing his hold on both of them, but still talking to Julie.

“Seriously, Julie, I totally see what Luke has been saying. He was right, you’re perfect.”

Julie felt hot all the way from the top of her head down to the tips of her toes. She gave Luke a side-eyed glance, heart tripping as she caught the quick expression of embarrassed betrayal on his face. So, he had actually used the word ‘perfect’ to describe her. He had talked about her to his boys, and not just as a musician. This wasn’t only about the music. She knew that, or she should have known that by now, but to be faced with it so plainly was something else entirely. Luke attempted to slip into a casual slouch, but his hand scratching at the back of his neck gave away the nerves he was feeling as his gaze slipped back over to hers. Julie gulped, breathing out slowly.

“What can I say? You definitely make us better.”

Another attempt at a nonchalant shrug that was foiled by his still-scratching hand and slight vocal crack. Julie’s heart raced, her stomach flipping low in her gut. So, this is what a real crush feels like. Julie had crushed on boys before, or so she had thought. Never before had she felt like this. She hadn’t actually known the other boys she had been attracted to. Not in the way she was beginning to realize she knew Luke. She had kept herself at a distance from them, building up a fantasy in her mind as to what type of person they were and what it would be like to see that fantasy come to life. Her crushes had always been somewhat superficial and definitely unobtainable. Luke was neither one of those things. He was right here. She knew him. Connected with him on a level deeper than should be possible after only three days, but it was undeniable all the same. Her soul whispered that she had always known him, she had simply been waiting for him to return to his true home within her heart all this time.

Luke was shifting uneasily on his feet, just like earlier in the day when he realized he had taken his bold declarations a step too far. Only this time, Julie realized she liked when he did that. The way he built her up without even trying, an endless supply of support and admiration falling from his lips so easily. Julie simultaneously wanted to reassure him and also continue needling him because the way his words made her feel was a high like no other. His eyes crinkled at the edges, smile softening just for her. She gave in to the temptation to touch him, reaching up to lightly grasp his wrist. The scratching finally stopped, and Julie gave a special soft smile of her own.

“I think we make each other better. That’s a great song, Luke. Thank you for doing this for me.”

Julie released her grip and lowered her hand, biting her lip slightly. She didn’t miss the way that Luke’s ears tinged pink, his arm hovering in the air for a second as he processed her words. Their eyes locked, a million fleeting emotions passing between them in seconds, their own form of silent communication. With Luke, Julie was learning that there was a lot more in the things left unsaid than the things that he let slip out. Her words meant more to him than he would ever be able to express and she wondered if that related back to something with Bobby or something with his parents. Maybe even both. The moment stretched on, the rest of the studio melting away in the background. Until Reggie’s whisper broke through.

“I see chemistry.”

The twin slaps of Alex’s hand on his forehead and Luke’s hand falling to his thigh echoed in the otherwise silent space. Julie felt her cheeks burn, breaking away from Luke’s gaze to face the other boys once again. She really had to stop letting herself get swept up in him. Especially when they had such an observant audience. Her eyes darted to the clock behind them, surprised to find several hours had already passed. Her dad would probably be calling her up for dinner soon. Right on cue, the studio doors rattled and opened. Carlos, framed by the setting sun behind him, studied the group of teenagers.

“So, this is your boy band?”

“Boy band! Who you callin ‘boy band’?!”

Luke’s indignant shout would have been funny if Julie wasn’t hyperaware of how close she was still standing to him. Carlos’s skeptical brown eyes darted back and forth between them like he could tell he had missed out on a golden opportunity to embarrass her. He smirked slightly, crossing his arms as he regarded Luke.

“I mean, you’re boys in a band. Ergo, boy band.” His hands lifted in a falsely innocent shrug. “I don’t make the rules.”

Reggie giggled as Luke’s jaw dropped slightly, stunned into silence by her brother’s sass. Even Alex was fighting back a grin. Reggie stepped closer to Carlos, whipping out his hand for a high-five.

“Up top, little dude!”

Carlos’s smirk melted into a genuine smile as he lifted onto his toes to smack Reggie’s hand. Julie rolled her eyes, nudging Luke a bit while the others were distracted. He turned to her with a small pout.

��Kids usually think I’m cool.”

“No, kids usually think you’re another kid.” Alex chimed in gleefully.

Luke’s pout deepened and Julie couldn’t resist knocking their fingers together for a quick brush of contact.

“I think you’re cool.”

The whisper was low, but she could tell he heard it by the way he snatched her hand into his, squeezing it for a brief moment as he gave her that burning look again. The interaction was over in a second, but Julie felt the lingering fire race across her skin. She wished she could have a minute or ten alone with him. She turned back to Carlos in the doorway before he could notice. That kid didn’t need any more ammunition against her, thank you very much.

“Did you need something, Carlos? Or are you just here to be a pest?”

He broke off his conversation with Reggie to stick his tongue out at her. She repeated the gesture back to him.

“I need a lot of things actually. Like a normal sister for one.”

He snickered at the way her nostrils flared, fully aware that she wanted to reach out and cuff the back of his head but wouldn’t do it in front of other people. She settled for gritting her teeth and reminding herself that as annoying as Carlos was, he was also her little brother and she loved him. She just didn’t always appreciate his astonishing lack of a filter around older boys that he thought were cool. Luke had read him all wrong of course. Carlos only teased people he was in awe of. That reminder calmed her as well. He was teasing out of love, and because he was nervous around these teenagers that he clearly wanted to like him. She could give him a pass. She could also tease him right back.

“I know where you sleep, twerp. Relay your message or scram.”

He rolled his eyes at her lame threat, but dropped the bratty attitude nonetheless.

“Dad says it’s time to eat. He said the guys can stay if they’re hungry.”

Carlos couldn’t fully hide the hope in his voice, though he tried to sound indifferent about it. Julie watched the boys share a quick look, an entire conversation taking place in mere seconds. Alex’s arm went around Reggie, who sagged a bit like he was disappointed. Luke’s hand went back to his neck, body slumping as if to shrink himself. Alex’s fingers tapped out a restless beat against his thigh. None of them moved to speak. Julie couldn’t stand the uncomfortable way the air grew thick between them.

“I’m sure the guys have plans already, bud. This was kind of a last-minute thing. Maybe tomorrow?”

She aimed the question at the boys instead of Carlos. They seemed to melt all at once. Another silent conversation communicated through glances. Reggie took the lead this time.

“That sounds great! As long as you’re sure your dad won’t mind. We don’t wanna be a burden.”

Julie shook her head, heart aching at the way Reggie said ‘burden’ like it was a title he was used to.

“No burden at all. Dad always makes too much spaghetti anyway. And my Tía usually brings food a few times a week so we literally always have leftovers. You guys would be helping us out by eating them up, honestly.”

Reggie smiled at her, and Julie was surprised to find that she wanted to cry. Not because she was happy or sad or any particular emotion really, but because Reggie made her feel the same way Carlos did when it was the middle of the night and she was waking up to the feeling of his cold feet against her calves and his whispered confession about not wanting to be alone right then. She felt protective. Ready to fight whatever or whoever it was out there that had made him believe he was too much simply by existing. Was this what her mom had talked about when she said the best bands were actually families? Julie had always taken that to mean her family, as in her mom and her. Maybe what she had been saying all along was that the magic of music could make a family. The right connections, the right mix of artists, and it wasn’t just about playing anymore. It was about creating something together, breathing life into their art as one entity. Caring for each other, lifting each other up, bandaging each other’s wounds.

The enormity of the realization that all it took was one afternoon for her to adopt these three idiots hit her like a ton of bricks. She didn’t even know them, and yet, she did. Their souls were forever intertwined. Whatever feeling had overtaken them during their practice would linger for the rest of eternity, burned into her heart like a brand. The magic of music.

“Thanks, Julie.”

Alex’s voice was soft, fingers calm once more. Julie nodded, not trusting herself to speak right then.

“Cool!”

Carlos whooped, breaking the moment once again. This time, Julie didn’t mind so much.

“I’ll go tell Dad. See you guys later!”

He was off like a rocket, propelled forward by his unshakeable enthusiasm. The arm that Alex still had around Reggie flexed for a moment before dropping. Reggie gave him a quick smile, lifting his bass over his head. Luke swung his guitar onto his back, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. Julie could tell something was bothering him. Alex seemed to feel it too.

“Hey, Reg, can you go unlock the van? I’m gonna start carrying my kit up.”

Alex tossed the keys to Reggie, who somehow managed to catch them singlehandedly while still holding his bass. His eyebrows furrowed for a second, but then he looked over at Luke and understanding dawned. He raced out of the studio without a word, Alex close behind him cradling his bass drum in his arms. Julie turned to Luke once they were alone, only to be met with his back as he fiddled with his guitar in its case. His shoulders were raised high, muscles bunched tightly under his shirt. She took a few steps forward, resting her hand lightly on his back once she was next to him. He relaxed slightly and she sighed in relief. Her fingers took on a mind of their own, softly rubbing until he let his shoulders fall.

“Please don’t feel obligated to stay for dinner tomorrow if you don’t want to.”

Luke spun around so quickly Julie didn’t have time to step back. He grabbed her elbows, steadying her but not moving out of her space. His expression was torn, eyes intense. Julie felt her throat tighten.

“No, Julie, it’s not that. I just...families are hard. For me. For...us.”

His eyes flew to the still open doors and back. She didn’t have to ask who the us was.

“Your dad seems really great. Your brother too. I just...it’s silly, but I don’t wanna let you or your family down.”

He bit his lip, gaze slipping down to the floor. They stood toe-to-toe, the tips of their sneakers almost touching. Julie breathed in deeply, the faint smell of her shampoo tickling her nose. It had to be coming off of Luke. Her own hair had been tied back into a bun at the beginning of band practice. It was an intimate reminder of the night before. When he hadn’t been home in the middle of the night because sometimes it was better to be elsewhere, even if elsewhere just meant not there. She couldn’t relate to that feeling. Her home had never felt like anything other than a welcoming, safe space. Her family had never been anything other than loving and supportive, even in the rare moments when they fought with each other.

“Luke, I’m pretty sure my dad thinks that you’re an angel. He was so happy this afternoon he didn’t even bring up the meeting with Lessa. You’re the reason I’m playing music again and that’s as good as gold in his eyes.”

“No way, Molina.” Luke scoffed, hands raising from her elbows to her shoulders. “That’s all on you. I didn’t do anything except ambush you for my own personal gain.”

Julie was shaking her head before he even finished his sentence. He was trying to play everything off with that cocky, cool kid attitude, but she knew him better now. That bravado was all a defense mechanism. One of her own hands lifted, brushing his hair out of his eyes, fingers lingering along his jawline.

“You’re wrong, Patterson.”

She didn’t miss the way he jerked a bit when she used his last name, his pupils widening slightly. A small smile formed on her lips. Two could play at that game.

“You rescued my mom’s song and protected it all this time. You brought it back to me right when I needed it. Did you know that was the last song she ever worked on? The last song we ever worked on. That song is the last piece of my mom. I don’t think I would have ever been able to play again without it, and I didn’t even realize that until yougave it back to me.”

She edged forward until their shoes touched. It wasn’t that much closer, but Julie could feel every inch of space lost between them. Luke’s eyes were doing that soft, starry thing again, and Julie thought her own eyes might look the same. He let his hands fall from her shoulders until they were resting lightly against her waist. Her own hands snuck around his neck, fingertips brushing against his soft, jasmine scented hair. Luke swayed their bodies slightly, his need for constant motion of some kind getting the best of him. It made her want to laugh, but this moment felt too big for that. Of all the ways her relationship with Luke had rapidly shifted in the last few days, this felt like the most serious. She wasn’t trying to fight him anymore. She was laying her cards out just as openly as he had.

“Julie...”

She couldn’t stop herself from leaning into him further, his voice twisting her name into the sweetest sounding melody. Luke didn’t get a chance to say or do anything else before noise filtered in through the still open studio doors. Alex’s voice, louder than Julie had ever heard it before, as he chatted with Reggie. Luke’s shoulders curved slightly, like he was disappointed, before he straightened and put some more space between them. They dropped their hands at the same time, the loss of contact causing her to shiver. Luke shot her a quick smile, so Julie knew his actions were less about hiding her and more about not wanting to share their delicate relationship with anyone else just yet. That was okay with her, too. It felt a little too new, a little too fragile, to let anyone else in on it just yet.

Alex and Reggie appeared only seconds later, Alex looking a little wary like he wasn’t sure his loud approach had been enough warning, Reggie’s expression open and happy, clearly oblivious to the thick tension between Luke and Julie. He was babbling to Alex about something involving physics homework, both of them moving to collect several other pieces of Alex’s kit. Luke gave her one last glance before he left her side to lift an amp. Julie was silent for a moment as she watched them before a realization had her smacking her forehead. The sound was loud enough to startle the boys, who turned to her with matching confused expressions on their faces.

“You guys are going to be right back over here tomorrow. You don’t need to take all your stuff out just to haul it back in here in like 24 hours. I should have said something earlier.”

Another silent conversation, the boys wary and anxious again. Julie wished she had a better understanding of the landmines she seemed to keep stumbling upon. Luke had given her a small hint, but the rejection anxiety ran deep in every single one of these boys. Reggie spoke up before Julie had the chance to reassure them.

“Are you sure your dad won’t mind?”

He was fiddling nervously with the strap on his bass, eyes wide. Alex’s grip flexed on the snare he held, Luke stepping closer to his guitar case. She heard the underlying question behind Reggie’s tone. Are you sure these parts of our souls will be safe here?

“He won’t mind at all. He hasn’t touched a thing in here since we locked it up after Mom...since we locked it up a year ago.”

She tried to keep her voice soft, her steps slow as she moved to place her hands against the top of the grand piano.

“My mom’s piano has been stored in here my entire life. I promise you the Molina’s know the importance of protecting our instruments. It’s up to you though. I totally get it if you want to keep them with you.”

Julie didn’t wait for their response, letting them process and decide for themselves how they felt about the situation. She bent to lift the sheet that usually covered the piano, shaking it a few times before closing the fallboard and draping the soft material over the instrument. By the time she turned around, only Luke was left behind her. She raised a brow, concerned she had said the wrong thing. His lips stretched into one of the smiles reserved just for her.

“They went back to the van to get Alex’s bass drum.”

Her eyes darted off to the side behind him, noticing that the snare Alex had been holding was back in place, Reggie’s bass once more nestled into a guitar holder. She felt her frown soften into a smile, relieved that they seemed to trust her despite not really having much of a reason to.

“Thank you...for, ya know, being so cool about all of this.”

Luke’s voice was quiet, hands fidgeting like he was fighting the urge to raise them to the back of his neck.

“Luke, I should be the one thanking you. Seriously, you guys don’t have to do this for me, and you are anyway. Actually, you very well could get into trouble for doing this, and yet you’re still willing to take that risk. The least I can do is house your instruments for a few days.”

Julie didn’t mean to, but something in her voice had his head snapping up at the way she said her last sentence. Like he could tell that she was trying to say it wasn’t just the instruments she was willing to care for. It was the boys too. It was Luke. They didn’t say anything more, letting the sentiment hang in the air between them. Luke’s eyes were impossibly soft. If Julie hadn’t already plunged over the cliff ledge falling for him, this moment would have toppled her.

Reggie and Alex stumbled back in, both of them laughing but unable to fully articulate why. Something about an old Vine video and bible study. Alex reset his bass drum, Julie scrounging up another sheet from the linen closet in the bathroom to cover it for the night. And if she took an extra second to run her fingers over the towel now hanging on the hook next to the shower, the faint scent of jasmine and citrus body wash and Luke drifting off of it at the movement, well no one else had to know about that.

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inspired-by-the-music · 4 years

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For You: Stand By Me

Taglist: @jineunwootrash @angels-from-california

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Recommended Reading: For You: 4 O’Clock; these works have separate, independent, but deeply interwoven timelines.

Chapter 7: The Girl Who Cried

Sehun POV

Lei had no idea how famous she was just a year after debuting. Somehow, she didn’t seem to feel all of the eyes on her. She danced like nobody was watching.

I guess I shouldn’t blame her. It wasn’t until everyone performed together at the SM Town concert that I realized that nobody saw her as a nine-year-old gap-toothed kid anymore. She wasn’t that kid anymore. She wasn’t just the little girl who liked me too much anymore. She wasn’t just my friend anymore.

I feel like an idiot writing these things down because it always should have been obvious that she wasn’t ever just any of those things. She, like everyone, was a complex person. She was always more than my perception of her. I just didn’t realize it before she became an idol, too, and— although this is wrong— I wanted to close my eyes and keep her as the figure in my mind and memories that I was content to never understand.

Suddenly— overnight, it seemed— this girl who I always thought was special because of our connection was special to everybody. Not just to me. Not just to Super Junior. Not just to the sea of roaring audiences who, at least, would never know her and see her and care for her away from the stage like I did. Other idols were taking an interest in Lei, and they didn’t care to be quiet about their budding admiration.

Baekhyun was not least among that growing group of admirers. In front of everybody, he knelt before her, and— giggling stupidly at the surprised smile that spread across her face— he kissed her hand and addressed her as “Your majesty,” into his microphone.

Of course, the audience screamed, and everyone around them cooed because (although Baekhyun looked like a moron) Lei was adorable. For the briefest second, I couldn’t control any muscle in my face, and I could only passively hope that nobody filmed the grimace that preceded my forced smile that didn’t come close to reaching my eyes.

I would have to talk to Baekhyun later, I decided while walking backstage. Lei was only fifteen, so his behavior was not appropriate. It wasn’t right to kiss her— not even on her hand, not even to amuse fans, not even to make her smile the way she did.

Everything was changing. Nobody likes change. Even when it’s necessary or the result of growth, change is hard to embrace fully without fear. And I guess if you want to know the truth that I never wanted to admit even in the darkest, quietest recess of my mind, I will admit it now that enough time has passed: I was afraid that Lei was right that day at Puroland. I was afraid that one day— probably soon— she would find herself unable to look at me the way she had every day in the past.

Don’t ask me why it was so important for her to love me when I didn’t love her back. I don’t know why. It doesn’t matter why.

Lei didn’t follow far behind me. From where I stood secure in the stage’s wings, I heard Jongin, who rarely complimented people he didn’t know well, cheer, “You have really good stage presence, Lei!” I heard her giggle.

My shoulders tensed, and although there was no hint that any eyes were on me, I tried to conceal my reaction by crossing my arms over my chest. I should have been happy to witness her receiving the praise she deserved, but I wasn’t. I was uncomfortable.

Was I worried that she would also look to me to compliment her only to be disappointed when, despite the desire to uplift and encourage her, I could say nothing? Was I worried that as she met more people like Jongin and Baekhyun (who followed Jongin’s compliment by boasting, “You were so cool out there!” and giving her a high five), she would altogether move on from me?

Yes and yes.

I know that I’m a hypocrite and an idiot. Every time I’ve held Lei’s attention, I’ve wished it away. Then, when I think that I’ve finally succeeded in convincing her to look elsewhere, I swear that I would do anything to turn back time. It’s a foolish cycle. Even if I should turn back the clocks, I would never find a time when we appreciated each other in the same way at the same time.

Our entire relationship— even still— has been one mistake, one misstep after another, and somehow I have always felt that I am the expert on how to treat Lei properly. Stupid. Immature. Clumsy. Hypocrite.

If ever you’re frustrated with me, just know that I was almost always aware of the fact that I was being stupid. I just didn’t know how to break the cycle. I didn’t know how to break the habit. And as much as I liked Lei— as much as I wanted her to be happy— as much as I wanted to somehow be a part of that happiness— I almost resented her for making me reflect on myself so often. I almost resented her for making me think about feelings, which— I’ve told you before— never mattered much to me.

That’s not true. People can easily develop the habit of saying, ‘That doesn’t matter,’ when they really mean, ‘I don’t understand. No matter how hard I try, I can’t understand.’ I am somebody who would rather say, ‘That doesn’t matter,’ than admit a shortcoming. I don’t like that about myself, but I don’t know how to change it.

That’s my problem. It always has been. It was never fair to blame Lei for any of my discomforts, but I often thought that if she wasn’t always trailing so closely behind me, then I wouldn’t always have to monitor the nature and extent of my attachment to her, and then my headache would have gone away.

Of course, the headache never could have fully subsided when Chanyeol was so determined to speak into my ear. After Lei joked on some variety show that I was her ideal type, Chanyeol developed an annoying habit (which he has not shaken to this day) of calling her my girlfriend.

Evidently oblivious to my tense mood, Chanyeol laughed while driving his elbow into my ribs. “Here comes your girlfriend!” The veins in my temples throbbed. “She’s really growing up, huh?”

His jokes— especially the ones about Lei— were never funny, so I cut my eyes at him. “No.” I shook my head. “She’s not that grown up. She’s only fifteen.”

Because I had never before bothered to respond to his jokes, Chanyeol blinked his widened eyes at me. He probably would have told me to lighten up, and — despite feeling all too aware of my overreaction— my scowl would deepen, but neither of us had the opportunity to resolve our conflict.

Blissfully innocent, Lei approached me with her smile that wasn’t dim even away from the stage lights. She would have looked nothing like the child who was my first friend at S.M. were it not for the dimple that formed in her chin as she rose her hand to wave at me. “Hey, Sehun.”

I wanted to say that she had performed well; that I wished we spoke more often (and less frequently in these dark, stiff, professional settings where I couldn’t quite breathe or feel much like myself); that I was proud of her for becoming a star who demanded everyone’s appreciation; that I was honored to share a stage with her because (aside from being a star) she was my friend; that I, somehow, deeper than words could ever convey, regretted how much had changed— even if change was inevitable, even if change was only temporary, even if these growing pains would someday be forgotten.

I couldn’t say anything over the lump in my throat except something stupid that I wish I had never said at all. “You can’t keep following me like this, Lei.” My arms were still crossed over my chest. I must have looked like such a jerk.

Lei’s smile didn’t fade at first. Maybe she was too shocked to understand what I said. Maybe she couldn’t quite hear me over the backstage chatter. Maybe she was too willing to forgive me even when I hadn’t apologized.

“What?” Her tone was still bright, and I could have pretended that I said any of the many praises I held in that innermost— or was it outermost?— part of my mind.

I probably justified my cold tone with the thought that I was teaching her an important lesson. “You can’t follow me here. Somebody is always watching.”

That was true enough. I should have bit my tongue then. Her jaw dropped just slightly, and I could make out the formation of her blush in the dark, but Lei nodded as if she believed me. As if she trusted me.

Although it wasn’t true, and I had never once felt this way, I tore my eyes from her and said again, “You can’t keep following me. It’s annoying.”

That’s when she wheezed, and Baekhyun pouted, and Jongin’s brow furrowed, and Chanyeol’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, and I dropped my jaw. I couldn’t understand why I said that. I couldn’t understand how my voice could so easily say something that I didn��t mean.

All I can think is that I was somehow trying to illegitimize Chanyeol’s stupid joke about her being my girlfriend, but that’s stupid. This is one of those cases where ‘why’ really doesn’t matter. No reason would have been good enough to justify the look I put on her face.

Instantly, I wanted to apologize, but suddenly— too late— I couldn’t speak. My throat was too tight. I couldn’t even look at Lei; with each glance, my heart plunged deeper into my stomach and knocked my breath away.

Selfishly, I prayed for her to break the silence. Without considering her discomfort, I was content to let her cross most of the distance between us if that meant I didn’t have to hurt myself to learn how to say sorry.

Seconds that felt like eternities passed. So quietly that I almost thought I was imagining her voice, she said, “Okay, Sehun.”

I wished she would have argued like she always did because— then— I probably would have crumbled and said anything I thought might set things right. It wasn’t right to expect her to break my pride, but I was disappointed that she only bowed without saying another word.

It made me sick to realize that Lei bit her tongue (at least in part) because she knew that somebody is always listening. Somebody is always hoping to catch us at our most vulnerable. Her lips trembled, and that dimple in her chin deepened, but she said nothing to convey her wounded emotions, and I—

I couldn’t tell myself that I taught her something she didn’t already know unless I wanted to start believing lies.

Slinging an arm around her shoulders, Baekhyun steered her away. His voice was softer, kinder than usual as he cheered, “Come on, Lei! I hid some snacks in EXO’s dressing room!”

And she didn’t flinch from his touch, and she didn’t look back at me, and I don’t know why I was dumb enough to expect that she would.

I tried to release my remorse through a sigh, but no matter how many times I filled and emptied my lungs on the aimless walk through backstage halls, I could not forget the way Lei sounded so— so unlike herself when she, for the first time, accepted my words without argument. Why had she chosen then, of all moments, to be obedient? Why, when she had every right and reason to debate, had she turned her cheek with no fight?

Nothing was her fault, yet I explored every avenue of thought that would deny me accountability until the nagging desire to apologize became an urge, a compulsion, a dire need that sent me running to the dressing room where I wouldn’t find her. I only found Baekhyun sitting at his vanity with earphones plugged into his phone.

Never before had I succumbed to the boyish instinct to throw things in rage, but I — at the adult age of twenty— yanked a metallic round brush sitting atop the nearest vanity and hurled it at a mirror. Miraculously, the mirror hadn’t shattered, and Baekhyun didn’t look up from his phone or flinch at the crash.

I could have pretended that moment never happened had Chanyeol not burst into the room right then, bulging eyes burning through me as he demanded, “What the hell was that about?”

Whether he was talking about the brush incident or the Lei incident, I had no answer. I didn’t worsen matters by stuttering excuses. I just shrugged.

“That kid liked you!” Chanyeol said— past tense— as if I hadn’t known. “And I thought you were friends or whatever, so why the hell would you put that look on her face?” Tugging at his hair, he dramatically cried, “God, I’m going to have nightmares about her sad face for weeks!”

“You’re really not the best person to lecture me about how to treat Lei.” I glared at him. “You’ve put that frown on her face more times than I can even count—”

Chanyeol yelled, “That’s not the same thing!” and he was right. “I get it. I’m not nice to that kid. I never have been. Maybe I should be a little nicer.” I nodded my head, and he jabbed an accusatory finger at me. “But I couldn’t turn the light off in her eyes like you just did even if I tried. You know why?”

Turning away from him, I shook my head because I didn’t want to have this conversation. I knew exactly why I could influence Lei more than Chanyeol ever could. I just didn’t understand it.

“Because she doesn’t like me! She likes you!” Chanyeol’s voice cracked. “She probably thought— like I did— that you would protect her feelings even though you can’t return them!”

I stared down at my hands pressed flat against the vanity, careful to avoid my reflection. “Why are you so invested in something that isn’t your business?”

As if he had always been Lei’s protector, Chanyeol roared, “You made it my business when you humiliated her in front of me! It’s not okay, Sehun! Even if you were right about people always watching, what’s wrong with them seeing that you’re kind to a kid who, for whatever reason, thinks the world of you?”

Never in a million years would I have wanted to discuss my feelings— especially the ones about Lei that, for some reason, seemed far too private and deep and tangled— with anyone. I especially wouldn’t have wanted to discuss them with Chanyeol, who didn’t even like her, while he was angry. I would have said or done anything to end the conversation.

I rounded on him and raised my voice. I hated raising my voice. It was exhausting. “You’re the one who made shit weird and awkward by calling her my girlfriend! I don’t even want to be around her anymore because of the weird shit you say!”

“Well, that’s bullshit,” Chanyeol retorted instantly. “If you’re having some kind of issue with your friendship, don’t pin that shit on me!” Then, when I faced him, he softened his voice. “I don’t know why you’re being so weird about a joke—”

“Because it’s not funny!” My face burned as I tried to make him understand, “My feelings for her are nothing like that! Lei is a sweet, innocent kid, and everybody is forgetting that because she’s getting more famous and more beautiful by the day, but I—” I swore— “she will always be that funny, honest, gap-toothed kid to me.”

Unsure of what to say as my gaze dropped down to my feet, Chanyeol blinked once and then twice. He probably wanted me to explain why it was so important for Lei to remain the child in my memory, but I wouldn’t have told him even if I understood it well enough.

“If you love her so much,” Chanyeol said, “then why would you ever say anything to hurt her?”

I couldn’t answer. Instead of admitting that I didn’t know— that I was an idiot— that I was sorry— I lashed out at him. “I don’t love her! I just— I care about her a lot.” I sounded like such a moron.

Chanyeol’s eyes narrowed, and I squirmed because I knew that he was seeing me clearly, flaws and all, for the first time. He looked away, picked at a button on his shirt, and probably felt like the wisest guy on the planet as he said, “I’m not sure who told you what love is or how they convinced you that it’s bad or wrong or scary, but they lied.”

Making my way to the door as my pulse quickened, I lied. “I’m not afraid of love.”

Maybe I didn’t know it then, but I was afraid of intimacy. I was afraid of needing somebody. I was afraid of wanting somebody. Maybe I didn’t know it then, but the reason why Lei couldn’t grow up was because then— then what would I say when she looked at me and told me that I was handsome? If she grew up, and she still wanted to hold my hand in the dark, I could no longer push her away, saying, ‘You’re too young. It’s inappropriate.’

Lei couldn’t grow up because, once we stood on even footing as adults, I knew that she would realize that I wasn’t special. I had never been special. Once I disappointed her by admitting that even when she was old enough, even if we felt the same thing at the same time, I wasn’t good enough, everything she ever thought of me would be chalked up to some childhood imagination.

Once or twice or every moment of those days, I almost managed to convince myself that the best choice was to stand some ways away at least until I learned to be okay with the inability to live up to her daydreams. I almost believed that, to preserve the memories that were too precious to tarnish, it would be best to part ways before I could disappoint her. It was too late to enact that plan, though, I realized as I again walked through the halls.

All my life, I told myself that it didn’t matter what others thought of me, but it always mattered what Lei thought. Even when she was nine and I was fourteen, I didn’t really want her to stop liking me. Did it matter because of who she was? Or was I— like everyone— too afraid to wonder what happens when she, who always admired me, changes her mind?

Something in my chest deflated when I found her leaning into Max outside of TVXQ’s dressing room, rubbing at her eyes. I understood by then that she knew everybody, so I wasn’t shocked to see her with him. I just couldn’t quite breathe because I had always been the one she ran to. I had always been the one she trusted with her feelings. And being as stupid as I was, I understood then that she would probably never again trust me so fully, so innocently, because a.) she was no longer a child, and b.) I had broken some facet of our bond.

Nobody wants to believe that they have broken something beyond repair, so I told myself that our friendship was indestructible. I don’t know if I ever believed myself again after that.

Something like rage coursed through my veins when I heard Max ask, “Now, are you going to tell me what made my little wife cry?” He smiled at her, and she mirrored his expression.

Rather than embracing my guilt— rather than feeling grateful that somebody kind had been there to lift her spirits when I couldn’t— I decided to glare at Max for calling her his ‘little wife,’ knowing well that it was a harmless nickname and that he had known her longer than I had.

Still grinning, Lei lifted her head, and— unable to budge from my place around the corner— I braced myself to hear her new opinion of me, but she said nothing. Graciously, she shook her head, and Max didn’t press her for information.

Even after I had been cruel and careless enough to publicly scold her in front of my group members, Lei wouldn’t privately paint me in an unfavorable light. I think I might have felt better if she had told Max that I was the most insensitive person on the planet even if she didn’t believe it— even if she was just speaking from embarrassed anger. The fact that she stood from his side, bowed, and walked away, forcing a smile even as she passed by me— tears refilling her eyes as I met them— made me feel worse.

I still can’t understand why I didn’t follow her. I guess I didn’t want to see her cry. I know how selfish that sounds, but you should believe me when I say that I wouldn’t have been able to say anything to dry her tears. If anything, I would have made matters worse.

While I lacked the courage to follow Lei, I somehow had the nerve to storm up to Max, my senior who I swear I respected. I somehow had the nerve to tell him, “You shouldn’t talk to her like that,” as if he hadn’t tried to clean up my mess.

Max’s eyebrows shot up. “What?” His head went aslant, and his eyebrows met between his eyes as he noted my short tone. I still think it’s a miracle that he didn’t knock me out the moment I opened my mouth.

This might sound stupid, but I think I almost wanted Max to beat my ass. It seemed that maybe a few slaps would knock some sense into me or that my guilt might subside if somebody would punish me for being an idiot.

“You shouldn’t call her your ‘little wife,’” I said, using air-quotes, earning a pointed stare from Max. “She’s very impressionable, and she’ll get the wrong idea from things like that. You have to be careful with young girls’ feelings, especially when they trust you.” My voice made me want to vomit. I was really one to talk.

After drawing a deep breath and carefully studying me, Max nodded. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said even though I wasn’t right; I was an idiot. “I should be careful about what I say, but sometimes— sometimes you’ll say anything to get someone to stop crying. Sometimes, you’ll say anything to make someone smile.”

Doubting that I would ever be willing to say anything to make Lei smile, I sank.

Max flashed his teeth, smiling as he patted my shoulder. “I’m glad Lei has somebody like you looking out for her.”

Somebody like me? What did that mean?

“She deserves every happiness, you know?”

I nodded because I did know.

That day planted the seed of a realization that dawned on me slowly over the years and then— suddenly— all at once when I sat alone on a frozen December night: I was the worst person for Lei to entrust her feelings to.

A selfless person would encourage her to find somebody who could warmly embrace her every joy and pain. Somebody who could easily string together the words she longed to hear. Somebody who would boast to the world that they loved her instead of running and clinging to privacy in the dark. Somebody who wouldn’t be too embarrassed by romantic gestures to give her flowers. Somebody who would watch the moon and stars with her while gently dispelling her every fear.

I knew well that I would never be anything like that person. Daily, I told myself that it was foolish to be jealous of somebody who didn’t exist, but—

He did exist. The issue was just that, even as years passed while I held my breath, she had not yet met him. The day when she would find everything she wanted in him was the day I dreaded most because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to hold a candle to him.

And I— I wasn’t a selfless person. I was selfish enough to pray that day would never come.

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basicallylovell · 3 years

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I recommend reading on phone!! just so it doesn’t look so crazy haha. and sorry for the ugly font i’m not sure how to change it.

"Mom, why so many boxes?" The young girl asked opening some of them. To their surprise envelopes upon envelopes.

"Those are your ancestor's letters! Your great grandmother managed to find them before she passed, giving them to grandma as a passing gift." The mother walked up to the door frame gently pressing their cheeks against the frame.

"Interesting." The girl replied picking one or two of the envelopes up.

"I'm gonna start cooking dinner, and please Courtney make sure to finish setting your room up before friday hits." She hit the top of the frame letting Julia know she was leaving before closing the door.

Gently opening the envelope she saw parts eroding, along with the paper inside. Putting on their glasses she sat on the mattress.

"Prince, princess? we're royalty!? we should be living in a mansion by now!" The teenager shouted, quickly lowering their voice going back to reading.

"Prince Ymir huh? Ymir sounds girly." they thought.

"There was another royalty family a couple of towns away...The Yeagers and Ackermans?" Courtney, squeezing their eyes trying to read the eroded words finally giving up, feeling a weird texture on the back she flipped it around finding another note with stickiness on the back.

Turning the small lamp on she put a pillow against their lower half, leaning against it. Finally, putting a pillow on their abdomen they gently opened and began the first letter.

"It's honestly beautiful here." Victoria smiled picking up a daisy, their favorite.

"Not as beautiful as you." The man spoke kissing Victoria the cheek and wrapping their arms around their waist.

"Well, thank you, mister." She giggled starting to slightly rock their hips to the wind.

"Maybe we can...go home, I cook dinner, and you just..be pretty?" Seeing Victoria's cheeks perk up, covering their mouth he started to chuckle.

"That sounds like a wonderful deal." Victoria's accent coming out.

Turning Victoria around he planted a kiss on the lips, them both smiling midway. With the sun hitting their skin they both looked like angels.

They were called "The Perfect Couple" never had fights, always so loving, open with each other, and most importantly they truly seemed in love.

Giving another kiss he pulled them in tight.

"Grayson, what're you doing?" She said looking up at him.

"Admiring you..." He mumbled cupping their face.

"You know I love you right?" Grayson asked, his tone sounding gentle but serious.

"Yes, I cant think of anyone ho loves me more," Victoria replied putting their hands on his.

"Good, amazing." He kissed them one more time before walking away.

"HEY, WAIT FOR ME! GRAY? GRAYSON!?" Victoria shouted running after him.

Courtney smiling to themselves gently folded the letter back up and opened the second one. Titling their head to the side there were two people, one female in a dress, one male in a jumpsuit. Finally figuring it out who they were Courtney folded the picture back up and sighed.

"Damn, that made me realize how lonely I am."

Going out to the boxes Courtney pulled out a random letter sitting back on the bed. Pulling the letter out of the envelope it seemed more plentiful in design and texture. Carefully opening the envelope she took the letter out, maybe she could sell it for a good price on eBay?

Courtney was shocked. it seemed like the letter was from a completely different timeline. Maybe the letter had gotten mixed up with some other letters and it just so happened their people found it? Of course! that had to be the only explanation, right?

Skimming over the letter it read.

I wish I could come over and talk things out like a prince should. But we're miles and miles apart. ironic init? miles apart but yet here we are, in an argument. If I could take back the things I did I would, but I can't. and I have to come to terms with it. What I'm trying to say is, I miss you. It's funny how I haven't cut or washed my hair since you last touched it, still has your scent. I walk past random citizens in the village in hopes that maybe, maybe you'd be one in the crowd. I don't regret or hate what we did. I loved it. and I wish to do it again someday, maybe in another life they say. I can't stay silent about this, not about a crime you did not commit. When father looked once I looked twice and I saw your innocence. I'll do anything in my power to get you out, I promise. I'm sorry you're in this mess because of me.

— Prince, Ymir

"What the actual FUCK!?" Courtney whispered shouted, gathering all the envelopes on the bed.

Going to the boxes she started dumping them on the floor, noticing the pattern. There would be fancy then "dirty" something Courtney couldn't get pass.

"COURTNEY DINNERS READY!!" The mom yelled.

"COMING!!" leaving everywhere as it is she ran into the kitchen.

"Can you set up the table for me?" The mom turned around after stirring what sounded like spaghetti.

#anime x oc #attack on titan #aot fanfiction #fanfic #levi ackerman #mikasa ackerman #ymir aot #royalty #eren yeager #armin arlert

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gottawriteanegoortwo · 4 years

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Darkstache Week Day Seven: Ordinary People

Days: 1, 2 , 3, 4 , 5, 6, 7

At last, the final prompt of the wonderful event hosted by @projectdarkstache! Thank you so much for encouraging everyone to create such fantastic pieces and I hope all the works can be cherished by their creators! You’ve all done fantastic!

After years of causing chaos and trouble as the Actor, Mark uses his new freedom to bring the fictional world he ruled back to the modern real world. But what about Dark and Wilford?

Word Count: 2,437

(while not necessarily a warning, this does contain sympathetic!Actor becoming Youtuber!Mark in the timeline my stories are written in.)

If he was asked, Mark would admit he had no idea when he felt like ‘himself’ again. It had been decades since the troubled actor’s heart was shattered, the will to live had vanished, and the ability to die eluded him. His broken soul was utterly consumed by the terrors of the Manor’s arcanic past until he became a god-like figure in a world of his own creation. Former friends were moulded and reshaped into characters to suit his schemes. Poor, innocent souls over the decades were pulled into the cat-and-mouse plot to populate the worlds. Drama and chaos were on the regular schedule, and how the Actor thrived!

But now… Peace. And Mark was baffled by it.

He remembered standing at the edge of the city, watching the sun rise like he had never seen the day before. In all the years of darkness and being pulled like a puppet by unseen forces, maybe that was the truth. A new life, a new start. The ‘performances’ he had been part of were failed attempts to gain control over a world that had torn him to pieces and tossed him in the trash. All they achieved was pain and suffering. As he recognised this and wanted to do good, the world he had mastery over was fading and merging with the real world - the one he had left behind. With new independence, he was losing grip over whatever powers he had before. No more would he be able to cheat death or restart time. This was it, the final ‘act’. He didn’t feel sorry for himself. Mark was finally ready to break free from the puppet strings and start over… But there were two in particular he needed to apologise to. Trying to face Dark or Wilford now would result in mockery or gunfire (or both). However, from his spot on the hill, he could see a new opportunity. He could reverse the crimes that were cast. Let them and all their old friends live the lives they were meant to in this new, modern world.

Mark opened his arms wide as the light of the morning sun hit his weary body. At last, the game was up. He could set everything right.

“Ah, there’s the man of the hour, Damien himself!” A familiar voice sang as he entered the office with his usual dramatic flair.

“It’s ‘Mayor Brooks’ while you are here, Mark. But it is good to see you.” Damien countered, playfully rolling his eyes. Even if Mark was a big internet celebrity, he made it his mission to check in regularly on Damien. It was a nice relief, even if the pair were trying to regain grounds on their friendship. Mark had dated his twin sister in university, but the manner in which the pair broke up was so dramatic, it caused a rift between the two young men. At least a friendship from childhood was not one that could be broken forever. He saved the document he was typing and closed the laptop. “If you are here, can I assume there is some great problem going on in your world?”

“Oh, no no. All good on my end!” Mark slumped onto the sofa to the side of the office with a laugh. “I recorded one huge game over the weekend and scored myself some free time. What better way to spend it than with my favourite politician?”

“As much as I appreciate the compliment, I would gather that your other friends are busy and you don’t have anyone else to turn to.” However blunt the statement might be, there was a smile on Damien’s face as he fell back onto the free half of the couch. Mark responded with a loud gasp and a hand on his chest, which only prompted Damien to lightly push him.

“How dare you! I’ll have you know I came here to see if you wanted to grab a coffee with me. I found ten bucks in my pants pocket this morning and I wanna splash out. Come on, Dames! Doesn’t your favourite coffee place have the best pumpkin spiced latte on this side of the city?”

“Mark, it’s May. They aren’t going to make that for you.” Now it was Damien’s turn to be pushed as Mark waved the ten dollar bill in his face.

“I think you’ll find myself and mister Alexander Hamilton will disagree with tha- HEY!” Letting his guard down was a mistake, as Damien took the chance to snatch the money out of his hand and jump onto his feet. “You crooked politician! Stealing the money of an innocent, hard-working man like me!”

Damien fetched his coat with a chuckle. “For someone who wants coffee, you don’t seem very keen in moving for it.” It worked, and a childishly offended Mark pulled himself off the couch. The money was returned to Mark as the pair exited the office. Damien did need a break, he decided as he locked the door after him.

Mark was an interesting man. He could act loud and brash, but it was only a mask that hid a soul that seemed older than thirty. Damien used to joke that Mark might be an old man stuck in a young body. The walk to the coffee shop took the usual diversion through a nearby park so they could swap stories and chat without the rush of the world shoving them forward. Mark and his content creator friends were busy working on a variety of projects, and he himself admitted he was feeling happier in himself than he had been in recent years. Likewise, Damien had been working on completing some important jobs around the city and trying to get some new schemes underway. It was busy, but rewarding. In times like this, neither had to play the part cast for them by society. They could be themselves, just like old times. It meant that Damien was more relaxed and jovial by the time they reached their destination.

The coffee shop had the familiar busy hum to it as the pair entered. Since Damien was a regular, there was never any fanfare of the mayor visiting their business. Mark’s ‘perfect’ disguise of a worn baseball cap and his glasses seemed to do the job of keeping a low profile. Surprisingly, the barista did indeed agree to make a pumpkin spiced latte for Mark, as well as Damien’s regular order. Both drinks and two large muffins were covered by the ten dollar bill, much to Mark’s delight. For now, they simply had to wait for their drinks.

“- And still no sign of a special someone?” It was a question Mark frequently asked. Damien seemed content to be ‘married’ to his work, but Mark would argue that the companionship would make the heavy workload more bearable. They both knew it was true, but Damien was a stubborn man. He was too proud to deal with blind dates, and seemed insistent on waiting for ‘the right person’. Instead, Damien countered with a question about Amy and how she and the two dogs were doing. A simple diversion, but a wholesome one, as Mark could share silly moments and photos on his phone, and Damien could enjoy the tales. How could he not be happy for his friend? It seemed like things were finally looking up for him.

At that, Mark’s drink and the muffins were ready, but there was no sign of Damien’s drink. He insisted Mark go fetch a table while Damien continued waiting. Several long minutes passed as people who ordered similar drinks received theirs, and Damien was tempted to ask one of the staff about his drink. Just as he was about to, the door slammed open as a man stumbled in.

“Geez, man! Could you not break that door, please?” The manager shouted at the stranger, who hurried over and apologised profusely while ordering his ‘usual’ summer iced drink and telling a story about a kid outside throwing ice-cream at him. Damien pulled out his phone to try and look busy, but his eyes strayed from the screen and darted to the man.

The stranger was a head taller than Damien and had a broad build that was emphasised by the fitted white t-shirt and jogging pants he was wearing. His black, curly hair looked somewhat erratic, while the large, bushy moustache reminded Damien of the chief of police from a TV show he loved. Facial hair of that style wasn’t in season anymore - not to mention this wasn’t as eloquently groomed as other moustaches would have been - so it was likely something important to the man. His face was framed by a sturdy jawline, which gave a somewhat intimidating air. But his eyes… Were looking in Damien’s direction. Oops.

The Mayor gulped and returned his attention to his phone.

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” Damien jumped at the sudden voice and presence beside him. The stranger had stepped closer without him realising it. “Is something wrong? Did that kid get ice-cream on my shirt?”

“No, your shirt is fine.” Damien responded quickly, intending to leave it at that. But the stranger stayed firm, bringing a sigh out of the politician. “I’m sorry. I know it’s rude to stare. I thought I recognised you, that’s all.”

“And do you?” The stranger sounded genuinely curious. That was enough to prompt Damien to lock and pocket his phone.

“I’m not sure. I feel like I do, and I wouldn’t forget a moustache like that, but I can’t place anything… Even if it feels like it’s on the tip of my tongue.” Realising how odd that sounded, his shoulders slumped in resignation. “I’m sorry, this all sounds rather bizarre from a complete stranger -”

“No!” Both men were taken aback at the stranger’s interruption. “Er, no. Sorry. It doesn’t sound weird. I feel the same. I feel like I know you -”

“I’m the Mayor. That’s hardly a surprise.”

“- yeah, but like I know know you, you know?” The stranger shook his head, curls bouncing with a nervous chuckle. “I think this is a sign. Maybe we ought to get to know each other properly, just in case we met in a dream.” A large hand was offered to Damien. “The name’s William Barnum, but friends can call me -”

“The Colonel.” Damien finished. Confusion was mirrored on both faces.

“How did you -”

“I don’t know?” No matter how he tried to place a specific memory with the phrase, nothing came to mind. Instead, he pushed it aside. “My name is Damien Brooks. Despite the rather odd circumstances, it is a pleasure to meet you.” The large hand was taken, and they gave a firm shake.

Immediately, a memory crossed Damien’s mind. This man had pink in his hair. His own hands were gray. Mark had a shadowed, wicked grin on his face. But as soon as it came, it vanished, like trying to recall a fading dream.

“Hey, Damien?” William’s dark eyes had drifted aside as he tried to encourage the words to come to him. “Do you want to go out for lunch this week?” A simple question made Damien’s heart skip a beat as an all-too familiar sensation of butterflies in his stomach manifested.

“Are - are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah… Is that too forward? I feel like it’s the right thing to do. You’re very handsome.”

Strange. Why did Damien feel like William had complimented him like that a hundred times before? Stranger still, why did it make him feel so happy to hear the nervous rambling? He reluctantly pulled his hand away so he could snatch a napkin from the counter and the pen in his pocket. A phone number was hastily scribbled on it, before it was scratched out and written neater. Just in case, his name was noted underneath.

“Here. Text me later. If you’re free, we could always… Go for dinner?” It also felt like the right thing to do, like it was a regular event. William seemed to agree, as his face lit up. Upon receiving the napkin, it was treated like something sacred by William, who carefully folded and placed in his wallet.

“Yeah! That’d be - I’d really like that - Bully.” That exclamation of relief shouldn’t bring a familiar tugging of heartstrings to Damien, but it did. Only that he was with Mark (and that he has a job to return to), Damien would have gladly gone wherever William was going.

Both names were called as the drinks were finally ready. Each one was lifted, and the pair gave their parting words and a promise to arrange something as soon as William returned home. But just as Damien was about to turn and walk to the table, William leaned down enough to kiss him on the cheek, hurrying off before anything else could happen. All Damien could do was watch the larger man disappear with a wistful smile before turning to find Mark at the table.

“You’re putting the local tomatoes to shame. You okay?” Mark asked, innocently sipping his latte. It was still mostly full. The drink itself looked hot. How long had that moment actually lasted?

“I’ve got a date tonight.” Damien was so embarrassed after blurting his answer, he didn’t notice how Mark’s surprise was an act. “I started talking to a guy up at the counter and - well, we’re meeting for dinner.”

“I’m so happy for you, man. Look at you, getting out there and being ambitious! I’m sure he’ll be a great guy!” Mark grinned, letting the topic drop so the Mayor could get his head around the ‘unexpected’ event.

While they were talking after the drinks were finished, a text arrived on Damien’s phone. Mark noticed there was a number rather than a name, but it brought a smile to Damien’s face. The Youtuber waved his hand and insisted Damien needed to ‘urgently’ answer it. As the Mayor did so, Mark noticed how the shadow that was always looming over Damien finally dissipated. At last, the malicious claws from a lifetime ago were gone, and with that, Mark’s own powers.

But what did the loss of powers matter when he was able to use them to help Dark and Wilford start a new relationship together? They could live as normal, ordinary people, just like Dark had always vowed when confronting the Actor. Today: the Actor was dead, Mark was alive, and the curse holding them all down had been broken for good.

Now, if only Celine would talk to him so they could become friends again...

#projectdarkstache2020 #darkstacheweek2020 #writersofmark #dilliam #darkstache #who killed markiplier #actor!mark #mayor damien #william j barnum #Blue Soul (Damien)#Eccentric Goof (Colonel)#(I SWEAR I didn't mean for it to be this long but I SWEAR it's cute)

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catflowerqueen · 4 years

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Okay, I finished Hiveswap 2 in... basically all one go. I will definitely have to do multiple replays to get all the Steam achievements, but that can wait until I do all my actual work and projects. Thoughts and major spoilers below.

Well Hiveswap 2 was certainly interesting! I can see why it took so long to make, and why Friendisms had to come first. That game certainly gives some more background lore to certain situations, though it also kind of… gave me certain character expectations that I feel were left unfulfilled. Like… given it is Alternia, and Doc Scratch admitted to messing around with everyone involved via his whatever-it-was making people more open to befriending the reader, I guess I’m not entirely surprised how certain situations ended up? Just… severely disappointed.

As far as gameplay goes, I think that the item management system was a little better than in part one, and it was cool that you actually got to switch between playing as Joey and playing as Xefros, and that they each had different commentary when you clicked on things. There is also a replayability factor, which is nice. The music was also really cool, especially how you could tell that the same melody was being used in every train car, just changed up a little to better fit the “theme” of the castes present in the cars. And that even held true when it got a lot darker/more depressing during the final quest! I’m also extremely glad that there was a functional hint system, because there were times when I really, really needed it.

But the bee minigame came pretty much out of nowhere, and the formatting for the directions was horrendous because it gave them to you after the game already started. Not in a tutorial fashion, either! Which meant that I couldn’t really read or understand what was actually going on until I’d failed the game two or three times, making the whole thing really tedious. Also… I’m kind of annoyed at how little actually got carried over when you use the “import Act 1 data” function? Like… inventory was the same, and maybe there were some things I missed, but it didn’t keep the name I gave Dammek’s lusus! It didn’t even use the default name for that option, either, or even throw in a line about Xefros telling you what it’s actual name was at some point while you were fleeing, which would at least explain the discrepancy.

Then there was the jade and teal car… and oh boy do I have a lot of complaints against that car. It’s honestly the one I had the most problems with, from both a gameplay and story perspective. For one thing, it dragged on way, way too long—especially for a middle section of the game. It would have worked a lot better as an endgame thing, I think, just in terms of the way games and stories are supposed to ramp up the action as you play, so things get progressively harder as you go. While there was some nice foreshadowing of how depraved the purple caste really is during that section… like the early game foreshadowing for it, it only really works effectively if you know the source material.

I mean. I guess Xefros’ discomfort in general works and gives it more of a wham/gut-punch for those who don’t know the source ahead of time, but… still.

Anyways, the length isn’t my only complaint with that section. The story was very interesting, I’ll admit, but the execution was not very good, especially when it came to the evidence. Now, I know this is apparently a common complaint with Phoenix Wright games, which that section is based on—that there is a specific order and place you need to use specific pieces of evidence, even when logic dictates that there is a far simpler solution to the problem. Like… at one point you need to come up with a motive for Tegiri to be hanging out by the Jade lockers. Considering that the entire trial has to do with the theft of a “forbidden book on rainbow drinkers,” this is something you find out during the evidence collection phase before the trial even begins, and another piece of evidence collected clearly states (or at least implies extremely heavily) that Tegiri is into rainbow drinker stuff, one would think that piece of evidence would be enough for a motive, right? Wrong. Instead, you have to use a broken action figure… and then you STILL use the other piece of evidence to show that he’s into weird romance stuff and would have been interested in reading the book! And that’s not the only time stuff like that happens!

Not to mention the section in the middle where the trial takes recess. The dialogue implies that what’s happening is you’re getting the chance to collect more evidence and statements… but, no, what’s actually happening is that you’re supposed to be taking this time to accuse other people of actually being the culprit by combining two pieces of evidence. The problem is, it doesn’t tell you this is what’s happening, give you any warning that you won’t be able to talk to the people you’re accusing again if you combine the wrong evidence, or let you use any selection screen aside from the evidence ones when it would be extremely helpful to be able to check on the timeline or suspect section again in order to get a refresher on where everyone was. And one of the pieces of evidence is a diary—but once you have it in your possession, you can’t check the relevant entry again! It only says who the diary belongs to and that some of it is censored. And since there is reason to believe that someone else messed with the diary to implicate the owner, it would be very helpful to actually get to explore that further in depth!

I really do hope that this is a case where there are multiple different endings, since the way it left off on my playthrough left an extremely bitter taste in my mouth, especially in regards to Tyzias’s character, who I actually really, really liked in Friendisms! But here… I got the “Scapegoat” achievement (which is why I’m hoping that there are other ways to complete this section), with the end result being that even though we got our client declared innocent, we also got an innocent (or at least, one heavily implied to be innocent afterwards) person declared guilty—in part because our co-counsel did not inform us of the fact that she witnessed evidence being tampered with and, in fact, knew who the true culprit was all along. And while her “Experiment” was deemed a success—and, I suppose, was technically successful within the set rules and did actually follow the whole “innocent until proven guilty” thing—it just highlighted that legislacerators still don’t actually care about justice. She could have, at any point, chimed in about what she saw, but was more interested in “keeping the peace” afterwards than actually getting the true culprit. And, yeah, baby steps and all, but…

I suppose thematically it does work well considering what happens at the end of the game when reaching the purple car, but…

I just thought better of Tyzias, is all. Friendisms implied that she was a real revolutionary for change, and, yes, I know that this wouldn’t be obvious to someone who didn’t play that game and some allowances must be made for that, but… even so, it just seems really out of character, and I don’t think it can all be blamed on forgetting lessons they learned while hanging out with the Reader/those things not actually happening in this continuity, for whatever reason (though, given how Fozzer was acting, and the fact that Chixie brings up the whole “Mask” persona, I’m pretty sure that we can assume they all remember some things that happened… just in a way that’s vague enough that those who played Friendisms can catch the references while those who didn’t won’t be lost on what’s going on)

…And, in hindsight, the whole thing was probably unnecessary to begin with since the book actually got found before the idea off a trial even came up??? I mean, part of that is because Marvus suddenly wandered in and seemed very interesting in holding one, and they didn’t want to upset him, but… yeah, it’s definitely a case of “this all could have been avoided,” especially since the book is apparently only forbidden for the jades to read. But I’m willing to give that one a pass, since trolls are weird and there were various circumstances escalating the situation.

I still think that Tagora had something to do with it, given what we know about his infatuation with Rainbow Drinkers from Friendisms… but that never actually came up in the game? I see where there may have been an opportunity for it, but it wasn’t a very clear-cut one and, at least the direction my playthrough went—would have required the player to actually have done his route in Friendisms.

(EDIT: Apparently there are some different ways to do this trial, according to some things already up on Steam, but they are dependent on some very early choices in the game--which would presumably affect some other choices in later games, and which means that i’m going to have to do many different playthroughs if i want to see everything available--and it still isn’t likely to remove the taint on my feelings towards Tyzias. After all, I’ll know that such capabilities for ruthlessness remain in her character, whether or not they’re actively showing.)

Also, hero-mode Xefros looks a lot older than I thought he was. And apparently joey is old enough to at least be a Freshman in high school??? I thought she was still in middle school!

As for other characters… some I felt were still in-character, some weren’t. Like… for what little we actually saw of Karako’s personality, considering he doesn’t really talk, I thought he was fine… despite being extremely surprised he was actually on the train at all considering his youth and, well, what little personality we saw indicating that he doesn’t really do “civilization” much. But the twins… while they were spot-on amongst themselves (resulting in an extremely chilling and heartbreakingly well-done scene near the ending), they seemed a lot more vicious in regards to their interactions with others. Wanshi apparently developed a real cruel streak in this game, and, ironically, Tirona was actually a whole lot nicer and not actually a suspect of that trial, despite being put on the stand as a witness.

I was also a bit disappointed that there weren’t more of those clever fight scenes we had from Act 1, where there was puzzle solving going on mid-fight—there were only two of them, one being so forgettable that I pretty much only remembered it existed just this second, and only the last one was really clever. There was at least one, maybe two other points where it would have been really cool/creative if Joey could have solved things with dance in a battling format… but her use of her dancing shoes was only plot important at two points in the game—and that first point wasn’t even her doing actual dancing, but, rather, as a buildup for the bee minigame. And then she never even got to use her “bee dance” skills again. At least Xefros finally got to use his bat—but, again, it was only once where it was actually a useful tool. He did get to use psionics more, though.

And there was a plot point with Skylla that was pretty much completely dropped? I mean… they did bring it up as something that was still unsolved right at the end, but… well, hopefully this just means that they’ll actually solve it for real in Act 3, because otherwise there was a perfectly good opportunity for a solution that Joey had in hand, but which didn’t get utilized. The issue is that Skylla’s lusus is apparently sick. One would think that this means that, assuming you carried over from part 1 (and I would assume even if you didn’t because it looks like a lot of the problems would be game-breakingly unsolvable if you didn’t have certain items you would have picked up through a playthrough of part 1. I guess that’s something to test for next time), this would require you to use the bestiary and vet kit, right? Wrong: I tried that and nothing happened. Apparently, the solution is that you promise Skylla you’ll look for medicine further down, and use that as a reason that Marsti should move away from the door so that you can pass by. But there’s never actually an option for you to look for the medication.

…Now that I think about it, though, this would be the prime opportunity for some inadvertent (or intentional, as the case may be) foreshadowing from Act 1. Two opportunities, even, with one being far more obvious than the other. One could be that Joey makes some commentary about knowing exactly what to do, having seen a similar problem in her own “lusus”—her pet dog back home. The other could be that Ladyy isn’t actually sick, but is instead pregnant and having little lusus puppies—which would be a callback to that Puppy Surprise doll from Act 1 where Joey hid her keys.

Still. I don’t like the fact that it never got solved in this part. Also that Vikare didn’t really get to do much (despite how annoying and confusing I myself find him) and that we didn’t get to see Fozzer again on the train even though we got to see several others on the train who we first saw at the station.

I’m also wondering what’s going to happen in part 4? Obviously part 3 is going to be either the party or further attempts to reach the party (and the suddenness of what happened with the ending does lend some more seriousness to the whole “you only have eleven days before everything gets destroyed thing), but… I’d assumed going in that two parts would be dedicated to Joey’s story, and two to Dammek’s, but apparently that’s not the case? If Joey really does get four parts to herself… then what the heck is Dammek’s story going to entail? I mean… those monsters, obviously, and whoever Jude’s “friends” are, but… I don’t know. I feel like it’s going to be hard to top this.

As far as lore goes… apparently the maturation trials are not the same thing as the exile, since Zebruh mentions already having gone through his, yet he is still on Alternia for what is implied to be… at least two sweeps, I think it was? I think he said he went through them at seven, and Chahut is approaching 9 or ten and mentions being only a perigee away from leaving. So that’s interesting. I guess the maturation trials are the equivalent of a career aptitude test or something?

It does make me wonder what happens with the Jades, though. Unless there are more mothergrubs on other planets, what do they even do when they’re off world, since apparently they are specifically tested when they are a lot younger to see who actually is assigned to the caverns vs. just living outside with everyone else. I guess maybe they just get jobs that are slightly more prestigious than olives, but still under teals? That would at least make sense for the ones who weren’t assigned to work in the caverns. Though it does make me wonder about Kanaya a little bit—had there been no game involved, would she still be considered “special” like the jades from Hiveswap given what her lusus was, except that because of said lusus she had to live outside of the caverns? It was, after all, implied that virgin mother grubs and their matriorbs were extremely rare.

Also, considering how full this train was, and the caste segregation going on, I’m wondering why the train from Sollux’s route in Pesterquest was so empty, and how he could apparently just get on any car he wanted. I mean—sure, he ended up in a car that only had an olive on it, but considering they were literally the only other passenger besides reader, that may have just been a coincidence. It can’t have been that there were separate waiting platforms for the different castes, either, since everyone was mingling together in Hiveswap before separating by car. Is it just that everyone was going to the party, but the train otherwise doesn’t get much use, or something like that? Or did it have more to do with whatever the ramifications were for Trizza’s defeat? …Or possibly the fact that the attack on the train at the end just made people still extremely wary about travelling by rail even sweeps after the fact?

There’s probably some more lore I can touch on, but… honestly, the trial section left me so upset that I can’t really put much of that together right now. I think I was going to say something about how the Jades would also be a good source of keeping culture alive between heiresses, since apparently they’re actually charged with doing so… but it’s hard to tell how much of that culture is just jade culture specifically vs. the rest of Alternia. Or even how much of it was actually serious, rather than a thinly veiled reason to let everyone indulge in things like tabloids, celebrity magazines, and rainbow drinker books.

Oh, yeah, and I’m pretty sure that Diemen at one point implied that his hot dog was actually made out of someone specific, though I’m not sure at this point whether that someone was his lusus, or if it was a troll. Either way, if that’s true, then it definitely explains why he is so protective of that specific hot dog.

EDIT: I remembered what the other bit of lore I wanted to discuss was. Well. I mean, it might not be considered “lore” as such, but... it’s interesting that of the two major rebellions we know of, both were headed by bronzebloods--that being the Summoner and Dammek. At least, I assume Dammek is the one heading the current rebellion. I wonder it it’s just a coincidence, or if there is something in bronzeblood nature that makes them more likely to lean towards these sorts of reactions? We know Dammek’s breed of lusus apparently favors strong leaders, and given the blood color would only be seeking out other bronzes (except perhaps when they hit the “my charge just died/got culled” stage and go looking for someone else to adopt, given what is happening with Joey), but presumably the Summoner had the same lusus type as Tavros. I dunno, it’s just interesting to think about.

Anyways... Overall I did really like the game! I loved the tone, despite how depressing it got at times, and Xefros’ and Joey’s developing relationship is amazing. I look forward to part 3. Hopefully it won’t take as long to come out.

#homestuck #hiveswap #spoilers #massive spoilers

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natsunoomoi · 4 years

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More SVSSS stuff because I just watched ep 5. I’m not in a position at the moment to pay for the VIP pass and plus it’s like one show that I’d be paying for, so eh. I think I can wait.

The highlight for me is definitely always just looking at Shen Qingqiu’s face. I really like how he looks. Like when they show grown Luo Binghe he looks nice too, but it’s not that often. When Liu Qingge comes out of the cave I’ll probably enjoy the eye candy for every episode thereafter. I’m not normally really like this, so I think the aesthetics of this show just touch on something very comfortable deep in the recesses of my memory of some kung fu movie I watched with my Dad as a young child that imprinted on me so I have a very specific weakness for men with that kind of a look.

I also have a very specific weakness for villain characters that have a kind of redemption or a complicated past with some inklings of maybe they could be redeemed even if overall they were kind of a dick for at least a portion of their lives. This is my Hiei from Yu Yu Hakusho weakness that almost universally applies to almost all my interests in life. I think the idea that Shen Jiu set his owner’s house on fire and killed them all except for his friend relates rather strongly to that because that is the thing that Hiei ulitimately decided not to do, but was the thing the Koorime in Hyouka no Kuni feared. Except Shen Jiu acted on it.

But like Shen Jiu supposedly could have been saved if the original’s author was a better writer and wasn’t writing a bullshit stallion novel. Like the fact that he saved Haitang is a compelling example of how his heart wasn’t completely cold. Of course she was his fiancee and people kind of are iffy about if they really were, but like they probably were between each other. Even if he was a slave, she lived in his house and she was his friend and they talk to each other. Naturally if you get along with each other really well, maybe as kids you just say, “When I grow up, I want to marry you.” Then because they’re friends and they like each other, they agree and they plan it that way. Just between them. Nothing to do with her family or the reality of the situation. Just two cute kids making a promise innocently. But like with that backdrop, it’s kind of understandable that he would save her from his slaughter and the fire that he set to destroy her family house. The interesting thing is that he never once in his entire time living there or even in the aftermath tried to tell her what her family was really like and what they did to him. He left her to hate him for what he did and assume that her family was innocent and the attack was unprovoked. He didn’t do anything to destroy her image of her loved ones.

It’s really sad how strong his mistrust for other men is, but that’s trauma too. We’re not really given specifics of how exactly he lived as a slave. We know that he was the 9th one bought, but he likely slept in close quarters with other slaves because it’s not like a noble family would give a whole lot to their slaves and amenities were probably sparse. For very different reasons, the disciple quarters even on Qing Jing Peak are probably similar. Sparse to focus on training and cultivation and close because of the number of disciples and just the overall situation. Even if the quarters had relatively more space than his slave quarters, that does sound too similar for it to be a huge trauma trigger for him on top of being surrounded by mostly other males. Self-isolation as a result of the trauma and hyper focusing on just his cultivation as a means to survive and get by day by day and create the foundation for his entire identity and basically it’s definitely the set up for disaster and all of Shen Jiu’s problems socially that lead him to being the main villain for the original story. It’s very sad. If only Yue Qingyuan tried to actually talk with him more instead of apologizing. I know he probably figured ultimately his excuse doesn’t matter, and it doesn’t, but Shen Jiu really needed help and to feel like his whole world wasn’t cold. Just knowing that he was in his friend’s thoughts and he tried to come back maybe could have eased his suffering even a little and start to build up a new level of trust again for him in particular but even for men in general. It’s sad as well that no mentors in his time there as a disciple ever like kind of noticed and tried to like just talk to him. I know he keeps his cards close and probably didn’t show outwardly he was struggling, but like how come no one asked how come he was spending so much time at the Warm Red Pavilion with women? That’s strange right? No one was concerned? I mean, like even if ultimately you say, it’s up to you if you want to keep going and that’s your business, still maybe ask and be like, “Hey, so I notice you’re not sleeping along with the other disciples and spend every night with the ladies over there? Uh, what’s up?” I think like for his teachers that might have been an important thing they should have done, but no one did? That seems like a big plothole to me that he was allowed to just continue like that with no one asking even once or showing concern that the top disciple of Qing Jing Peak was not socializing with the other disciples or sleeping in the same quarters as them. I’m surprised even not one of the ladies in the Pavilion even asked why he was there every night. I mean, I’m sure they wouldn’t want to shoo a way a client, but like no one asked even like one time? I understand from the meta point of view that plothole is probably there on purpose to show how the original’s author was a dumpster fire to create a horrible world of super toxic masculinity as an ouroboros eating itself, but jfc I really feel bad for Shen Jiu that he was made to feel such suffering as a result of absolutely shit writing just to make him an enemy for Demon Binghe.

Oh and he just had a shit first cultivation master too. What the hell with the horrible luck. This poor kid is just trying to survive and he just gets a raw deal.

But I suppose that’s also like a masterful backstory on MXTX’s part to make us root for Shen Yuan’s rewrite and create a happy life for “Qingqiu” that he wasn’t able to make himself. He did it initially for his own self-interest, but the Qingqiu everyone knows in the end is much more well-adjusted. I’m still sad though that it feels like that means original Shen Jiu still left that world with Shen Yuan replacing him only knowing sadness.

So then I was poking around the tags on here and saw someone had a theory that original Shen Jiu got punted from his timeline and turning into Shen Yuan who knows the whole story and then dies and gets put into his old body. I actually buy this, but my version of the timeline is different. Like I was thinking Shen Jiu-Qingqiu died as a human stick under all the torture and everything and then became reborn as Shen Yuan reading through his whole life and mistakes through a horribly written story and then dying via food poisoning and brought into his own old life with a chance to redeem himself. I really like this idea except that Shen Jiu seems really, really straight and Shen Yuan may be a bit more fluid.

But all this to say, that I have an itch in a confluence of all of my weaknesses to want to really comfort Shen Jiu. ;o; There’s a small part of me that while enjoying Shen Yuan’s rewrites, also really wished Shen Jiu could have been happier so he didn’t turn into such a dick because literally no one else around him seemed to do anything except let him fuck himself over including the people who supposedly cared about him. So very sad. T_T

And then maybe this should be in a different post that’s a different topic. I kind of touched on a bit how the image of the situation probably doesn’t look great, but it looks like some people are like bashing on the Bingqiu ship? It’s the canon ship for one, so just stop there.

But if you really want to go into it, as another person pointed out, the actual teacher-student relationship was between original Qingqiu and Binghe. We’re reading a different situation because it’s Shen Yuan who was a Binghe fanboy who has the relationship with Binghe. The imaging isn’t great because he’s in and controlling Qingqiu’s body, and the rest of the characters in the world don’t know this, but the meta reading of this is that it’s okay because it’s a different person actually. In world, the other characters do probably find it a little odd and the issue with Qingge in the succubus cave as I mentioned before, he’s probably panicking when the succubus mentions that Qingqiiu’s love interest is a junior because he can only think of himself as that role and didn’t think to include a disciple into that description. It doesn’t seem like it’s completely unheard of or taboo though because there seems to be some implications that maybe Shen Jiu originally had some kind of designs on Ning Yingying because he’s also a bit jealous of Binghe for getting her attention too? A large part of his jealousy comes from his insecurity with his cultivation and other people having more advantage or potential to surpass him despite his hard work, because again trauma and hyper focusing on building his entire identity around one thing and no one helping him, but like also seems in this world there’s some leeway between teacher-student relations turning into something else. This is not really a normal kind of situation where they go into a modern school or anything. A lot of the disciples were probably at one point also juniors to their master before they graduated to become a lord, and when they grow enough to end their disciple term and can become more independent cultivators they’re not really obligated to stick by such a standard because they’re adults. Like maybe they hang around the sect still and work as like someone they happen to send out on demon slaying missions if they choose to stay instead of going off somewhere and it functions a bit more like an army in that regard where they’re not really learning anything new or getting any new instruction, but they’re still kind of a disciple. It’s not a perfect 1:1 relation to teacher-student relationships because of the structure of cultivation sects. It’s not great in the army to have a relationship with your CO either, but the point in the story when their relationship develops is more like that. But like Mingfan probably eventually would go back to his family and just live out a noble life because he is a noble, so it’s not like all the disciples would stay and perpetually be students forever. There’s some very important distinctions at play here in the story that the people who object to this aren’t understanding.

Like this isn’t like an actual school like in Harry Potter or something where the kids all go off to Hogwarts and there are actual students and teachers and every Peak is like a Hogwarts House. They’re learning and the peak lord gives them some level of instruction, but there’s also a great deal of independent study because cultivation is very personal and bound by natural talent and how much you put into it. The fact that everyone has their own manual should tell you a lot about the structure and how it’s okay for Qingqiu to leave for 3 years to go meditate in a cave. The masters in these situations are more like more well studied seniors who just have more experience and have been appointed to help you get unstuck or something because they have more experience to troubleshoot. There’s some authority carried with that as well, but it’s a very different experience from like a boarding school, so such a relationship is not entirely taboo. It’s not perfect because if you’re still trying to play the old roles at the same as your new role as a partnership that can get kind of weird, but it can work out if there’s communication involved as with generally all things.

So yeah, Bingqiu is actually okay, and rather than harping on something that’s not an issue, I think the more interesting discussion is how obligated a person is to be faithful to a different person’s life if they end up in their body. Like for body swap movies where the change is temporary they’re always like “Hey, don’t f up my life!” But like this is a permanent change where Shen Yuan was inserted into Qingqiu’s life after he was already established. What is the philosophical theory to how much he should keep up Qingqiu’s responsibilities and how much freedom should he exert for his own desires? That’s the real question. I think the balance he struck became ultimately more happy for everyone in the sect, so eh.

I realize a lot of this is not related to the episode, but the episode is just a continuation of the sparring match and nothing much else to say about it. The most interesting thing is getting to see a flashback of the original Qingqiu and getting a better idea of who he was like instead of the Shen Yuan version we know.

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partypetes · 4 years

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TUA Creator’s Bingo: Hoodie

Summary: Vanya learns that withdrawals suck. Thankfully, her brother knows a thing or two about it.

Pairing/Characters: Vanya Hargreeves and Klaus Hargreeves

Word Count: 2276

Square Filled: Hoodie

Warnings: implied/reference drug use, withdrawals,

A/N: third entry for @tuacreatorsbingo ! some good good klaus and vanya hurt/comfort content because we need more of that in our lives

AO3 Link

It was a bad, bad day. Withdrawals were awful.

Sitting in the kitchen, Vanya was digging her nails into her arms hard enough to leave marks while she willed her body to stop shaking. She wasn’t even cold- the logical part of her brain told her that her nervous system was probably just overreacting without something to keep it calm.

Worse than the shakes were the ‘brain zaps’. The zaps were unsettling and disorienting and she could never predict when the next one would come. It was almost like trying to wait out hiccups, and it made it impossible to focus on anything- and she’d tried. She only got through half of a Beethoven piece, the zaps causing sudden stops and unexpectedly wrong notes before she gave up in a fit of frustration. Her powers made sheet music fly violently around the room as she made a loud, agitated noise.

Now, not sure she wanted to be alone with her powers and anger, but not really sure what she wanted at all- she sat in the kitchen with a now-cold mug of tea in front of her. Her nails dragged down her arms, leaving red scores.

A lack of sleep and her list of symptoms for the day left her agitated and manic, and she was trying hard not to spiral considering how her powers got when she was too emotional. She didn’t want to take the Academy down a second time, didn’t want to hurt anyone- except. Well, she kind of did. Not in a murderous way, she just- understood Diego and Luther’s constant need to punch things to cope a lot better than she used to.

Vanya didn’t know how much more of this she could take, but she didn’t know how to relieve it. She felt like a pot starting to boil over and she didn’t know how to let any of the steam loose. Old coping mechanisms from older therapists floated in and out of her mind, but she found they were more aggravating than helpful. ‘Identify your feelings. Go to your happy place. Meditate. Breathe’.

Fuck off , her brain responded to the suggestions.

Too stuck in her own thoughts, she didn’t notice her sibling until it was too late.

“Hey, Van.” Klaus greeted, giving her a nod and a smile as he moved into the kitchen, a long skirt trailing after him. A flash of irritation washed over her- if it was Allison or Five that would be one thing, but while she didn’t have much to hold against Klaus, he was so.. Loud. She didn’t think she could handle it gracefully today.

He proved her point as he started opening and shutting cabinets, digging through the fridge, setting a plate down on the counter with a clank. He even mumbled to himself - or to someone else. She and the rest of the Hargreeves were still trying to figure out what was a chatty ghost and what was Klaus being Klaus. Vanya didn’t know how long she sat there, her nails digger harder and harder into her skin as she breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth and tried to stay calm. Eventually, though, she had to crack .

“Klaus, would you just shut up ?” She demanded as she twisted in her chair to face him, the cup in front of her giving an ominous rattle and spilling most of her tea over the edge. He immediately froze in response, his expression falling. He quickly plastered on another, but she definitely saw the brief moment of hurt before he put on another easygoing mask.

“Shit.” Vanya said. Shame washed over her at the outburst. “I’m so sorry.” She blurted, running her fingers through her hair and clenching her fists at her scalp, “That was unfair, I’m sorry, I’m- the withdrawals today are just-"

“Oh.” Klaus said simply, the realization dawning on his face, “It’s okay, Vanya.”

“No, it’s not, that was shitty and we both know it-”

“Hey, you would not believe the things I’ve said to Ben on my pricklier days.” Klaus said. He was back to rummaging through a cupboard. This time, however, he made sure to close the cabinets gently and not to clink the dishes around as he moved. “And vice versa.” He snorted, holding up a rag, “It’s cute that you guys still think he’s an innocent little bookworm. He knows like three languages and tells me I’m making bad choices in all of them .”

He artfully stepped over to the table, his skirt swishing around his legs while he picked her cup up and set the rag down to start soaking up the tea mess. Then, “I’ll be right back.” He said with a considerate frown, and she nodded numbly before he disappeared down the hall.

The hopeless, angry part of her suggested he probably wasn’t coming back and just wanted to get away from her craziness. But it was Klaus, and if she was crazy.. To prove the point, he soon blazed back into the room with a black bundle in his arms.

“Put this on.” He suggested, setting it down on the table instead of handing it to her directly. “It’ll help.”

Irritation scratched beneath her skin, not wanting to be told what to do, but she reached forward to grab it regardless to try and keep the peace. Unrolling it, she realized it was a comfortably worn-down hoodie.

“Is.. is this Ben’s?” She asked, confused.

“No- well, maybe, actually.” Klaus frowned thoughtfully, “No, wait, you’re right, I definitely stole this from Ben.”

Surprise, surprise . Vanya huffed out a small laugh at his antics.

Then she carefully shrugged the hoodie on- it was a size or two too big, and made of heavy material that weighed on her shoulders. It smelled like a bizarre mix of something flowery and something that was almost definitely weed, but it was something she associated with Klaus. And that small fact was somehow comforting to her, just a little. So she sank back into her chair and into the fabric, the hood bunching up around her neck.

“It helps sometimes, to just have something heavy? It’s kind of grounding.” Klaus said, rocking back and forth on his heels and his toes with a strange expression, his movement betraying his nerves.

“I think you’re right.” Vanya said softly, starting to connect the dots. Even if she wasn’t feeling many more emotions than ‘fuck this’ or ‘fuck you’, she could recognize that Klaus was the resident authority on dealing with withdrawal. He was clean- hell, cleaner than she was, but she distantly remembered the days after the not-apocalypse where he hid himself away, snapped at them, or cried in strange places.

“Do you think a hug would help?” Klaus interrupted her thoughts like he was shoving the words out of his mouth as quickly as he could.

Vanya took a deep breath and slowly let it out through her nose, genuinely considering it. “I think.. That if someone touched me right now.. I’d throw them into the wall.” She said carefully, watching Klaus’ expression.

To her bizarre satisfaction, he nodded like that was a perfectly reasonable answer. “Sounds about right.” He replied absently, his eyes wandering the room before focusing in on her again. Ghosts, or Klaus’ attention span? Who knew.

“You’ve just gotta wait it out, Van.” He sighed, smiling regretfully, “And try not to burn too many bridges along the way.”

She tapped her fingers on the table, focusing on the sound and the vibration- before stopping herself. No going down the ‘catastrophic powers’ rabbit hole, not while she felt like.. this .

“I’m just…” Her hands clenched into fists, wondering just how much he’d get it , “Klaus, I’m- I’m so angry . And even after everything that happened.. I’m not used to it. I don’t know what to do with it.”

Was it a warning? Maybe. Or maybe she just wanted to be heard while someone was there to listen. She expected her brother to shrink away or find some convenient excuse to vanish, a spiteful voice in her head reminding her of how she and her unstable powers could just be too much for her siblings some days. But Klaus only sighed and leaned his hip against the table, staring down at her.

“That’s okay.” He said, “Is your brain like.. screaming at you and lashing out at everything? That’s not you, that’s just..” He made a face. “Chemistry and brain stuff. You can’t help it right now.”

She didn’t think anything could soothe the beast clawing in her chest, but Klaus’ words helped. Maybe only a little, but she’d take what she could get.

“Klaus,” She asked suddenly, as soon as the question popped up in her mind. She twitched, her brain.. well, zapping. “Can I- can I ask you something?”

His face lit up. “Anytime!” Klaus agreed.

She clenched her fists on the tabletop. “Are you ever-“ Her nails bit into her palms as she tried to consider how to phrase it, how to get the point across. “Did you ever feel..” Scared. “Concerned? I- I know you were on drugs for.. for a really long time.” She worried her lip, not sure just how candid they could be about the subject, “So when you were stopping.. was it hard, not knowing what.. what you were supposed to be like after?”

He looked confused but kindly concerned, brow furrowed as he tried to follow along. “You mean like..” He hummed, “You- I was on drugs so long, so was it scary not knowing who I was going to be without the high?”

She breathed out a deep sigh, nodding. “Yeah. Exactly that, yeah.”

“Well..” Klaus sucked in a breath through his teeth, cocking his head to the side, “My timelines were always a little rushed. But.. yeah? C’mon, it was practically baked - get it, baked - into my personality. ‘ Klaus the drug addict ’-“ He snorted unexpectedly, “It was almost like my brand. If I wasn’t him, who was I supposed to be?”

She only nodded. He seemed lost in thought, blinked, then he let out a soft ‘oh’ when he realized the conversational ball was still in his court.

“Soo.. yeah. Yeah, Van, it was fucking scary. Once or twice I think that’s why I fell off the wagon, honestly- back on the streets, I mean.” He rambled, “It was too big and scary, looking into a future where I had to be Klaus The Adult and act ‘normal’ and ‘fix’ myself.” Klaus made a face at the very thought. “It’s hard, getting kicked out of rehab and then knowing it’s all up to you to fix your shit. Even with Ben around.”

Her heart sank. “Oh.” She said. That certainly didn’t bode well for her. But it wasn’t like she could fall off the wagon, could she? After the apocalypse they had her taking her full dose and slowly weaned her off of it, and now she was finally out of pills and it was leaving her system. But she couldn’t deny that life was easier on the pills, as much as she hated feeling ordinary. Could it be enough, just knowing she had these powers under the surface? That she counted as a member of the Academy in her own strange way?

It must’ve been written all over her face. “But!” A panicked Klaus near-shouted, causing her to flinch away and glare with the strength of a thousand suns. He grinned sheepishly, adjusting his volume. “Sorry. Sorry. I was just gonna say- I think it never stuck because I didn’t have anyone back then. I mean, Ben, but I’d been tuning out that shithead for years. And he tried, but he couldn’t do much to support me.

“Now, though-“ Klaus gestured with his hands, a knowing smile on his face, “I had… I’ve got people . And with hi- them, by my side and willing to help, that makes the future a lot less scary.” He made a soft noise. “Rehab was always hounding me about having a support system to stay sober- guess they knew something after all.”

“Oh.” She repeated.

“Is that…” He worried his lip with his teeth, “Is that helpful? I’m not usually the pep talk guy.”

“I…” She took a deep breath and let it out, slowly unclenching her fists so that she could hide her hands in the oversized hoodie. “I think.. I think it did, actually.” She could still feel the anger bubbling beneath the surface of her skin. She still felt like she was a hair trigger away from something , and she didn’t want to find out what it was.

But the reminder that she wasn’t alone helped. Even if she didn’t trust certain siblings as much as others.. She wasn’t alone in all this. Especially with Klaus here.

Vanya looked at her brother in a strange new light. He hadn’t run away or made her feel like shit, not even when she flung her tea all over the table with her mind. So.. so no, Vanya wasn’t alone. Vanya had support.

Maybe she’d make it through.

“Thanks, Klaus.” She said softly.

“Like I said,” He replied, grabbing the rag and soaking up the rest of the mess before tossing it in the direction of the sink. It hit a cabinet and slid to the floor, but the thought was there. “Anytime, Van.” A pause. "Are you sure you don't want that hug?"

She scoffed out a small laugh. "Klaus, I love you, but go away." Vanya said mildly, the edge of her mouth quirking up in a small smile.

"Yeah," Klaus agreed, "Fair enough."

#The Umbrella Academy #vanya hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #tuacreatorsbingo

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lily-of-the-eyrie · 4 years

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🎓🔍 Scene Commentary: Colonel Edition ②

Here comes part 2 out of 7 of the Scene Commentary thread, covering Shay’s adventures at Fort Arsenal in [SQ3-2] A Long Walk and A Short Drop [vid over here].

This time we’re gonna talk about the next step in the Colonel’s process of getting to know Shay/winning him over, and also extensively pick apart the hidden plan of how he directs Shay into serving the Templars’ interests.

This round’s highlights: 　❗️Gist’s Hanging: A Staged Interaction? 　💭 A Staged Interaction: Tinfoil Edition

🌟 Thanks again to the-colonel-who-cares for beta reading help!

Okay, let’s get going with the show:

[SQ3-2] A Long Walk and A Short Drop Shay returns to the Finnegans' residence and hears about a friend of the Colonel's getting into trouble.

　After renovating the church, Shay decides to go back to update Barry and Cassidy about his gang-busting activities, but found upon his arrival that the Colonel had beaten him to it. It's like he knows Shay's gonna come back home right away... Hm.

　By this time, we see that Shay and the Colonel are on friendly terms―Shay shows no particular sign of tension throughout their conversation here. In fact, when the Colonel quickly asked him to help out a friend of his, he readily accepts.

　The Colonel mentions that said friend, Gist, had run into trouble investigating "a nest of criminals". Said criminals are likely about to execute him for snooping around their base if someone doesn't go there and save him, which honestly sounds like quite a bomb to drop on a guy you literally just met earlier that day.

　Still, despite how unbelievable this might sound, the Colonel wasn't randomly throwing requests at Shay to see what sticks―he likely knows that Shay is more than capable of rescuing Gist on his own, and, more importantly, he sounds like someone who would want to. After all, he did just see Shay take down a whole gang hideout by himself, and the ex-Assassin's recent actions show that he's the kind of guy who has a strong desire to protect the people victimized by the gangs (ie.-the Finnegans). Shay then proves this hypothesis correct when he declares that he won't let the outlaws have another victim.

　As for why he doesn't go there and save Gist himself, the Colonel mentions that he has "urgent business in Albany". This isn't explained in any of the subsequent scenes, so we never really know what this "urgent business" is actually supposed to be. It could be anything from military duties to a Templar meeting...or, if you want to go full-on conspiracy theory mode, it might even just be an excuse to sit this round out to see how Shay would go about saving Gist.

❗️Gist’s Hanging: A Staged Interaction?

　This scene plays out naturally enough as a something to move the plot along, with the Colonel pointing us towards the next story mission, but I've got the strong suspicion that the whole "saving Gist" incident was staged.

　The setup of the situation is particularly fishy: given that Gist's day job as a surveyor/merchant/landlord doesn't exactly entail sneaking into gang hideouts, it's likely that he's there specifically on Templar business. As a fellow Templar active in New York, the Colonel must've known about Gist's current task at Fort Arsenal, so no surprises there... But how, in a time before instant messaging, did the timing work out so well that Gist literally just got caught as Shay and Monro are having that conversation at the Finnegans', cutting it so close that the poor man was literally in the process of getting hung as Shay arrived at the scaffolds? And the weirdest part is that the Colonel seemed to know that that was exactly what was going to happen.

　On one hand, it could all be coincidence. The Colonel might just have told Shay to go check up on Gist because he's worried about the worst case scenario in his Fort Arsenal operation, and wanted Shay to help out in case Gist ran into trouble; if no trouble occured, well, that's great, but you know, just in case.

💭 A Staged Interaction: Tinfoil Edition

　On the other hand: what if the episode was staged? Considering what we know from when the Colonel confessed the truth after Fort William Henry―that he'd known all along that Shay was an Assassin―it's reasonable to assume that everything before Fort William Henry is likely a false reality of sorts, created and maintained to keep nudging Shay into "demonstrating his loyalty and resourcefulness to the Templar cause" (albeit without his knowledge)...which pretty much means it plays like a microcosm of the grand New World Order that the Templars were trying to create.

　In this light, though, how can we frame the events of this episode? One take I can think of is that the Colonel, who had grown an interest in Shay's personality during their meeting at the Greenwich gang HQ, may have told Gist to go Fort Arsenal and deliberately get caught, creating a situation where he can (1) test the goodness of Shay's character and the extent of his skills, and (2) use Shay’s inclination towards kicking criminal ass to take out the Assassin-affiliated gang members roosting at Fort Arsenal.

　Let's go back a little further up the timeline, to when the Colonel first found Shay. From his perspective, there are only two things about the man that are certain:

1) He's an Assassin, because he has a hidden blade; 2) He has the manuscript with him

　Notice that this includes nothing about what Shay is like as a person, given that he's completely out of order until earlier that morning.

　Now (1) is pretty straightforward, but (2) is where interpretations can get fuzzy. After all, the Templars have no clue what went down at the Homestead―all they know is that this guy has a very important manuscript stolen from Wardrop, one of theirs who got assassinated the previous year, and for some reason he wound up half-drowned on New York's shores with a bullet in his back. Was he an Assassin courier caught in a fight with enemy soldiers? Was he attacked by bandits? Maybe one of the Templar affiliates chased him down and took the shot? All in all, the situation's unusual, and would’ve raised a lot of questions for the Templars who found him. If they managed to ascertain that it wasn’t one of theirs who did this, this may be the point at which the Colonel might've gotten the hunch that Shay turned his back on his former Brotherhood.

　Assuming that he had turned traitor to the Assassins though, the logical route for the Colonel at this point would be to somehow direct Shay into working against the Assassins, preferably in ways that benefit the Templars―as someone who was once an Assassin, there would be a great many things Shay presumably knows that would give him an edge as an Assassin hunter over a regular Templar (eg.-Assassin skills, details of Assassin operations, where the Brotherhood's hideouts are located, etc.), making him a very valuable asset. However, there's a clear hitch―even if it's true that Shay did betray the local Brotherhood and is now hostile to them (seeing him hack the Assassin flag off the Greenwich gang HQ's flagpole should make this extremely obvious), there's no guarantee that this means he's not equally hostile to the Templars, who were indeed his old enemies...and might still be. So clearly, the Colonel couldn't just walk up to Shay and ask him to blow up Assassin bases for the Order, and given that he might still kill Templars on sight, this makes the mere act of keeping him alive a risky venture. Given that the continued presence of an Assassin is literally an issue of life and death for the Templars, it's not surprising if the Colonel's plan of sparing Shay to see what he can do with him is met with resistance from a chunk of the Order, notably from William Johnson. Still, he managed to get that plan going, but evidently steering the potentially hostile Shay into serving the Order's goals is going to take some creativity―and a good helping of scrubbing any hint of Templar affiliation off of the Templars dealing with him.

　All this discussion of what to do with Shay presumably got wrapped up before the man even woke up, given he was bedridden for a couple of months, so naturally, the discussion revolved around how to put him to use as an "ex-Assassin pawn" and took none of his personality traits or motivations into account. Due to the events at the Greenwich HQ incident, though, the Colonel learned a few definitive things about Shay—chiefly of the "he's a lot like Finnegan Jr." strain. Considering how important Finn Jr. is played up to be for the Colonel in terms of their shared goals (Doing Good By The People™ and all that jazz), I think it's more likely than not that this encounter affected how he viewed Shay, and by extension his strategy of how to treat the ex-Assassin afterwards.

[Speaking of Finnegan Jr., I wonder how he figures into all this. It’s highly likely that the boy's death happened by Assassin hands because this is Assassin’s Creed™ and not Random 18th Century Colonial Sim™, so I'm not sure the Colonel's feelings are exactly neutral when it comes to his hooded nemeses (even if he's less explosive about the A-word than Johnson was). Whatever was in his head when he first fished Shay out of the waters and saw the hidden blade strapped onto his arm, it probably wasn’t pretty 😂 Still, if the Colonel did indeed have an axe to grind with the Brotherhood and still managed to behave so calmly around Shay, that’s some top grade emotional regulation skills.]

　So, going back to Gist―by setting him up as the victim to be "rescued" by Shay, who had to effectively take out the gang members in Fort Arsenal and therefore dislodge the Assassins from that location in order to save him, the Colonel had essentially pulled a brilliant strategic move to remove the Assassin presence in the area under the guise of protecting an "innocent civilian", all without lifting a finger himself. But Gist probably wasn't a passive actor in this scenario―if this scene really was set up as a Templar plot, then he'd have worked together with the Colonel on the script. Given that he's good enough at acting that he could even teach Jack Weeks how to "mimic people of various social status and origins", and that he was the one Templar who had to stick right beside Shay for a whole year without blowing his cover, pretending to be a civilian in distress is going to barely be a challenge for him.

　Of course, given that Gist was really hanging by a rope when Shay arrived at the scene, it's a rather risky plan; if Shay didn't manage to save him in time, there's a very real risk that Gist might wind up really choking to death on the scaffolds... Unless the Colonel accounted for that too, and had posted, say, Weeks nearby as backup, because even if we assume that Gist and the Colonel worked so well together that Gist would consent to risking his neck like that upon request, leaving your subordinate to probably die like that is just irresponsible leadership, which, knowing the Colonel’s dynamics with people working for him, just sounds unlikely.

　Whatever the truth of the event though, if the Colonel's aim was to prove that Shay is worth keeping alive to the rest of the Colonial Rite, his success at taking Fort Arsenal should be a pretty good piece of evidence in his favour.

#⟪Monrology 🎓⟫#⟪Headcanon Hour 💭⟫#⟪✠ Honour and Loyalty ✠⟫#⟪Cutscene Commentary series⟫#Aaand there goes my tinfoil hat #But ok for srs #since they never gave us the blueprints for this vivarium the Colonel built around Shay until his letter about FWH tore it down #we basically have to figure out how the events surrounding Shay looked like from the Templars' POV by ourselves #On one hand this means that people's idea of the characters involved can change wildly depending on personal theories #bcs there's no unifying canon on the matter #but picking the details apart to figure out how it comes together is fun as heck 😂

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atamascolily · 5 years

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lily liveblogs “terminator 2: judgment day” for the first time, part 3

(First and second parts here and here, respectively)

I like that Miles Dyson is a black computer geek, a manager, a programmer, a rich man with a wife he clearly adores. It's just sad that he's also going to destroy the world, and is on a collision course with our heroes. I think that's the point - that good intentions/ideals/not being a terrible person don't save you from doing terrible things...

Miles' computer has a sign taped to the top saying "BIT HAPPENS" aaaaahhhh, he's such a nerd, I love him... except his subsequent speech to his wife makes clear he is so determined to perfect everything and not really consider the consequences, aaahhhh. but he does turn off the computer and go spend time with his kids, and the family is really cute together, so he's very very human and relatable.

(this movie is so freakin' relevant in 2019 on so many levels, I can't even)

Sarah is still wearing her psych ward clothes under her jacket, just like Kyle did for most of the first movie, parallels...

I love Sarah's expression when Enrique offers the T101 booze, and she just grabs it and drinks it out of the bottle, like WE DO NOT WASTE ALCOHOL ON ROBOTS IN THIS HOUSE, ENRIQUE. lolololol.

OH MY GOD SARAH'S WEARING ALL BLACK AND A TANK TOP NOW AND I CANNOT GET OVER HOW AWESOME SHE LOOKS

"Just drop by anytime and totally fuck up my life, all right?" - this franchise in one sentence

Of course the T101 isn't going to survive this movie, and we learn this in a literal Chekhov's Armory. oh, and there's a big, fucking gun. I'm sure we'll see that again.

Sarah's biceps continue to be amazing, all those pull-ups paid off big time. I'm in total awe.

Male bonding with engine repair. it's endearing. John blames Sarah for telling potential father figures about Judgement Day and scaring them off. Poor John just wants a father. GOD I WISH KYLE REESE HAD SURVIVED.

Just realized the only reason John knows how to re-program a T101 is because his younger self did it again when they sent that same T101 through time. HISTORY CREATES ITSELF, THE FUTURE CREATES THE PAST, IT'S ALL ONE BIG, STABLE TIME LOOP.

Sarah watching John with the T101 and realizing it's the perfect father for him. I'm surprised there aren't AUs where she starts sleeping with the T101, too, for similar reasons. Kyle Reese would be spinning in his grave...

I was hoping for another Michael Biehn scene when Sarah falls asleep, but no, it's that playground again...

OH GOD, that woman in the dream looks just like her in the '80s, and she's even wearing a dress that looks like the waitress dress... holding a kid and living a normal life... ahhhh, what Sarah really wants (even though she's a badass on the outside and so strong and competent). I don't know how I feel about this. Like on the one hand, Sarah has massive PTSD, and this is a totally valid thing for her to want, and on the other hand, given how this film keeps treating women, it feels kinda regressive?? Sigh.

Then she burns and everybody burns when the bomb goes off... this is James Cameron's signature nightmare image and it's ours, too, now... callbacks to the first movie and the liquid melting flesh of the new Terminator....and Sarah’s photo burning, ahhhhh.

There's all this destruction, but no blood. That's the thing I notice most about this movie--there's just as much violence as the first film, but it's all CLEAN violence... hardly any blood at all. Horror is bloody. Action is not. I don't think I realized that fully until I watched these two films back to back.

it's too bad Sarah couldn't see a real therapist instead of Silbermann for all this time, because she has such a tremendous case of PTSD.

She drives off without saying good-bye to John, he's supposed to go to safety, but of course he won't.

John says that his father told Sarah there's no fate but what we make for ourselves, which is technically true since he said it to her in this movie, but didn't SHE say that to HIM? Oh, right, it's a message from John that he gives to her so she can give it to John later so he can give it to Kyle. Right.

Why is John so upset that Sarah is trying to change the timeline after all? Because he might not be conceived? I doubt he's thinking about temporal loops here? Or does he think he can help her? Or because he thinks she’s crossed a Moral Event Horizon by going after Dyson?

T101 is like, "dude, your mom's probably right," and John's all, "I don't care!" RIGHT YOU STUPID ASSHOLE, you're going to let millions of people die instead?? You can tell he hasn't been fighting at all yet.

I'm all Team Sarah here. John Connor has yet to convince me why he's in the right here. Why shouldn't Sarah try to shift them onto a better timeline if she can? Especially since it’s not 100% clear what her plan is??

(And if she's wrong, then her actions were necessary in order to create the original future, so... it gets complicated to sort out. I get it.)

Okay, she’s at Dyson’s house. She's going to try to kill him, but she doesn't really need to kill him, just destroy the Terminator chip he's using as a model. She's basically become a human version of the Terminator now, because Cameron loves his parallels...can she not see there are other options?

Speaking of which, there's a radio controlled toy truck that Dyson's son is driving through the house, lol.

Yup, there's a red laser guide beam just like the T1 did to her. And she's going to see Dyson with his kid and think better of it, because she yearns for innocent time with her own kid (that she didn't have because she was training for the future).

NOPE, she shoots him, but he ducks when the car hits his foot, and he hides behind his desk just like Sarah did in T1. The circle is complete. She's even firing automatic rounds like the first Terminator did. SHE’S BECOME THE ENEMY NOW.

Sigh, the first time Sarah talks to a woman in this movie, and she's calling her a bitch and telling her to get down on the floor after she's shot her husband. I hate this so much.

She can't shoot him. His wife and son are watching and she realizes what she's become. She's doing to Dyson what the Terminator did to her.

The fact that Dyson, who is black, got his home shot up by a white woman and nearly killed while his family watched in terror is... not a great image, and I can only imagine what must be going through their heads right now.

Dyson recognizes the metallic hand once the Terminator strips its skin off. Wow, what a gory move to prove the truth. effective, though.

"You're judging me on things I haven't even done yet" - Sarah's face here when Dyson says that.

Sarah has no patience for Dyson's protestations of innocence: how could you think that eliminating humans from the decision-making process would go well? She says "Men like you--" and all I can hear is "patriarchy".

The difference between Dyson and Sarah is Dyson did his invention purposefully, whereas all Sarah was supposed to do was have a kid. She could have died once John was born and it wouldn't necessarily have mattered, because her role is finished (just like Reese could die). Still, her line, "You don't know what it's like to really create something" is so IRONIC in this context... would men feel the need to create weapons of war if they could create life like women do??

I hate teenage John shutting Sarah down, because she's right, if not tactful, and I'm so tired of people dismissing Sarah and even her own kid is treating her like a crazy person when she’s just so goddamn tired and haunted by visions of the end of the world.

Tarissa (Dyson's wife) asks the smart question: Aren't we changing things now, just by having this conversation? Dyson says, no way I'm finishing this now that I know. Would that the future worked like that.

god, why didn't Sarah just bring the Terminator with her as proof she wasn't crazy? Why did she have to shoot Dyson BEFORE all this?? why wasn’t she thinking outside the box? sigh. she’s not stupid.

They go to Cyberdyne headquarters and Sarah is wearing a jacket like Kyle’s, oh my heart. Dyson is taking this amazingly well--we were right to like him--but I'm pretty sure he's not going to survive the movie. Although since this is action and not horror, maybe he has a chance??

I like the contrast between the security cams in the state hospital and the Cyberdyne building. Glass doors, too.

Oh, the T1000's going to be waiting for them because he knew they would show up here because IT IS WRITTEN. I wonder if he's hiding in the floor somewhere like he did before??

Dyson might be able to get out of this by claiming Sarah and the T101 forced him at gunpoint to break in, assuming he survives.

Good thing John is a budding hacker!! He can open the doors when the guard trips the alarm and locks the doors.

John knows EXACTLY WHAT SARAH MEANS when she warns him about "fire in the hole".

I like how the mechanical factory of the previous movie is now a sleek and shiny '90s lab with computers and chips and things. And now they have a collaborator on the inside who's working with them to take it down instead of being totes on their own.

The T1000 is at Dyson's house. How did he track them there? Did Tarissa call the police?? But he gets the police call about the raid of Cyberdyne, so hopefully Tarissa and her kids survive the night.

Parallels to the police helicopters and cops in the parking lot with the human beings on the ground vs. the machines in the opening.

Cyberdyne is using literally the same locking software as the bank ATM, lol.

ahahahah, it's a remote control to set the bombs off, because even more parallels, lolololol

oh, hey, there's the big fucking gun with a freaking mountain of automatic bullets. Ironically, the name for this monstrosity is "mini-gun". somehow, he shoots all the cars and doesn't kill anyone - he's just that good a shot!! Just enough to make the cops get clear. Then he shoots the cars to make them blow up. CLEVER.

Of course John doesn't destroy the chip once he gets it out of the safe, because where's the drama in that??

SHIT. THE POLICE SHOOT MILES AS THEY ENTER THE ROOM FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCK I HATE THIS. They don’t even try to save him, or seem aware that Sarah might be using him as a hostage. and of course he's got the detonator in his hands, too.

all this shattered glass reminds me of the police station sequence from T1, but it's way less of a slaughter.

T101 busts through the clean room to save Sarah, just like he did the mall walls before.

Miles dies. His hand drops. The building explodes. GOD DAMN IT I LIKED HIM WHYYYYYYYY.

"we got a war zone here"-- oh, you just wait. Probably there's going to be Judgement Day anyway and Miles died for NOTHING. *sob*

Okay now the T1000 shows up.

"I'll be back," says the T101, because of course he does.

Good thing they brought an oxygen mask to a gun battle!!

The T101 is so creative. He won't kill you, but he'll still shoot you in the legs, and it will hurt like hell.

lol, the T1000 literally rides in on a flaming motorcycle OH MY GOD THIS MOVIE. He even takes it up the staircase WHAT.

meanwhile the T101 is firing tear gas, and then pulling peoples' masks off. Then he drives a truck back into the building to pick Sarah and John up.

THERE'S ONLY ONE GODDAMN CASUALTY IN THIS ENTIRE SEQUENCE AND IT'S THE BLACK GUY, WHO WAS A FUCKING GOOD GUY, I WILL NEVER BE OVER THIS!!! All the white cops get to live, but not the black dude who was an actual character. FUCK THIS.

T1000 rides his motorcycle off the edge of the building and hijacks the helicopter to chase after John. He tells the pilot to "Get out" and the guy does, but idk if he survived? OWWWWWW.

John tells Sarah of course he'll stay hidden behind the bullet-proof vests, but of course he doesn't.

Yeah, John was getting shot at by intelligent machines from the sky long before it was cool. No wonder he's the leader of the resistance... he was literally trained from birth for this! Plus, you know, he had help. From the future.

Sarah gets shot in the leg, owwww. The helicopter rams the truck and crashes. So does the truck. This is just like the bridge scene in T1, isn't it?

Ohhh, a gas truck showed up, so YEAH THINGS ARE GOING TO EXPLODE. Oh, it's liquid nitrogen, not gas, does that make a difference? Oh, maybe that has an effect on the Terminator melting metal??

Both the dudes who stopped to check on them are going to get killed... yeah. Sigh. Oh, one of them went over the edge, he might have survived.

Pity anybody who is on this road tonight, 'cause it's clobbering time!!

Oh, good thing John knows how to drive! And they take the off-ramp, just like they did before in the river chase.

Oh, good, just bust through the gate into a random factory, that always goes well. Ah, drive right into the middle of a molten steel pour. EPIC.

Liquid nitrogen everywhere. This is so going to be relevant in a moment.

Good, all the workers flee. Fewer casualties that way.

The liquid nitrogen makes him frosty and metallic. He's literally shattering. This can't be the end, though, because we still have at least twenty minutes left.

The T101 shoots him and he shatters. But doesn't each piece keep hunting??

Yup, the hot steel is melting the nitrogen, he's coming back.

John's carrying Sarah just like Sarah carried Kyle at the end of T1... and the T1000 comes out of the liquid in the same pose as it came into the past...

Sarah's hair is loose and crazy-looking, and she's also lost her agency since she's been shot and in shock. Symbolism is not lost on me.

Now the T1000 starts mimicking the scenery. Now they're in the part of the factory with machines. t101 stays behind. John's going to lose his father-figure again, but find him in the future again I guess?

Oh, the T101 gets his hands trapped underneath a giant gear, IRONY. And the T1000 just literally rolls its eyes and walks away because it doesn't give a fuck about anything but John. T101 hacks off his own arm, while Sarah and John stumble up more stairs just like T1. God, I hope Cyberdyne doesn't find that arm stuck in the machine gears and destroy the world with it... JUST LIKE LAST TIME.

Sarah puts John on a conveyor belt while she stays behind to fight. JUST LIKE T1.

She shoots a literal hole in his head and it doesn't work... no blood, just cgi silver stuff... and this is simultaneously horrifying and yet cheapening the effect of real blood/bullets, etc...

He pins her to the wall. All he needs is to touch her. He tells her to call to John - he can mimic her voice, of course this was coming...

But the T101 intervenes! Now he's getting rammed with a hydraulic press, just like last time. Crawling towards him, just like before... but he gets stabbed again and shorts out. Good thing Terminators are hard to kill.

T1000 takes Sarah's form and starts calling for him. God, this dude must be so freakin' paranoid as an adult knowing this. Actual Sarah shoots Fake Sarah and he transforms back into his usual form. He doesn't say anything, just waggles his finger at her, and it is is scarier than any one-liner possibly could be.

"Get down!" -arc words, apparently, since that was also what happened in the beginning. The T101 shows up and shoots the T1000 back into the pool of molten metal and then it's really over. But not before he turns into a CGI silver monstrosity first.

Chorus sings the Terminator theme slowly and dramatically while the thing transforms into every form it's ever taken, including Sarah because we needed more symbolism of Sarah's face melting in flames in this franchise. Oh, wait, no, I think that was the only one we didn't see. Wow.

Oh, man it's like being at the fires of Mount Doom when John tosses the first Terminator arm from T1 into the molten pit. Of course a piece of the chip has broken off somewhere - they should have destroyed it in the lab!! Sigh.

The T101 has to toss himself in to prevent anyone else from finding the chip. ahhhh, John has to sacrifice what he loves for the world. Sob. So much for being a happy Terminator family together, except in fic. And it doesn't matter because of that goddamn missing piece *sob* Miles' death, this... for nothing if anyone finds that missing chip piece. AAAAAAH.

"I can't self-terminate"--wow, that means Sarah and John have to do it themselves, EVEN WORSE. John is pulling a Frodo and screaming a lot.

Wow, Cameron managed to make us feel AWFUL and SAD at the death of a Terminator. Well played, sir, well played. John cries. T101 and Sarah shake hands. It's all so moving. fuck.

ONCE AGAIN, SARAH PRESSES THE BUTTON TO KILL HIM OMG. John is forced to watch someone who came from the future to protect him, whom he came to love dearly after just a day or so of knowing him, DIE IN FRONT OF HIM, just like Sarah in T1.

GOD IT'S SO HOPEFUL AN ENDING, BUT WHAT ABOUT THAT MISSING CHIP CHUNK, DAMN IT!! And the, uh, severed robot arm the T101 left behind? We end the movie in pretty much exactly the same space as we began - with an arm and a chip unaccounted for. I do not find this hopeful.

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