#source: terminator: dark fate

[incorrectbatfam]

Jason: I’m wanted in a couple states.

Jason: Fifty, actually.

[emmikay]

Macavity: I'm wanted in a couple counties.

Macavity: 48, actually.

[autumnwander]

Henry: I’m wanted in a couple states.

Henry : Fifty, actually.

[cinnamonglrls]

kerosene. [R.R]

summary: the fire reaches a fever pitch.

wc: 5.7k

4,320 seconds. 

180 days.

26 weeks.

Six months.

Pure, unequivocal radio silence.

You got the message, especially after your blue message spun green when you texted him the morning after that night at HEIDI’s. You got the message, especially when he subtly swerved your attempts at approaching him on two separate occasions with the intent of sincerely apologizing for your inebriated lapse of judgement face-to-face— your persistance a true testament of your developing appreciation of the budding friendship you two were cultivating in the bracket of time post-injury and pre-fallout, no matter how short lived it was.

A corpse of a caterpillar before it could ever bloom into a butterfly. 

4,320 seconds. 

180 days.

26 weeks.

Six months.

In all honesty, you wanted to be buried where you laid. When you awoke with three flutters of your eyelids that morning, a shutter of film-burned memories of the night prior rolling on a reel that you played, paused, rewinded and repeated in your mind’s eye, you wanted to be buried where you laid. It was the type of regret and humiliation that drives you into nosediving beneath the cover of your duvet, hiding from the harsh realities and cruel, cruel consquences of casamigos.

He’s fucking married.

You groaned and moaned and pressed your knuckles into the corners of your closed eyeballs in frustration, berating yourself underneath the safety of the thick comforter where no one could find you.

4,320 seconds. 

180 days.

26 weeks.

Six months.

You had heard it in passing. You were winding down for the night at the barren arena after a show in Chicago. Only a few people were left at the venue, comprising of staff and a handful of wrestlers who were scheduled to perform near the end of the show that night. You were stripped clean of your in-ring gear and settled for something far more comfortable; a tight angelic tank top with black sweatpants. A NIKE duffle bag hanging off of your shoulder as you cruised the hallway on your way out to the escalade that would then lead you to your hotel for the night when a murmured conversation you couldn't help but overhear as you passed an office peaked your interest.

“… Has a really good eye for talent. I mean Roman was the one who put Isabel on Paul’s radar when she was still over at NXT, after all. I think that…”

It stopped you in your tracks.

You slowly leaned your body onto the cold cinderblock wall in the dimlit vacant hallway, a few safe feet away from the source of the voices. A deep fold etched between the natural arches of your brows as you stay within earshot of the conversation but also at secure enough distance to eavesdrop without arousing suspicion. Roman put you on Paul’s radar? 

You don’t remember how long you stood hidden in that dark hall, quiet as a mouse with your teeth gnawing at your bottom lip and then your fingernails, a cycle that rotated as you skimmed through cold memories of how unwelcome you were made to feel upon your debut at his hands, which was bad enough. But he was a factor in the reason you were placed on the main roster in the first place?

It wasn’t until you heard shuffling of feet originating from the office that you hurriedly pushed yourself off the wall and made your way down the hall and out the building.

4,320 seconds. 

180 days.

26 weeks.

Six months.

Part-timer.

It was a nickname he worked overtime to earn.

Since the fallout, he’d begun limiting his appearances on television— only showing face once every two to three weeks at best. A privilege that came with the termination of the storyline that included you two, coincidently. 

The sudden decision to cut the cord on the narrative, which came only three weeks after that fateful night, snatched the rug right from beneath your feet. It cut your air time by a whopping seventy-five percent, infuriating loyal wrestling fans all around the world who made their voices heard. 

Trending tweets. Cunning signs. Persistent chants.

The people wanted you so much that you were coined The People’s Princess.™

Paul’s demeanor as he delivered you the news indicated that there was nothing he could do. It was beyond him. 

The biggest upset of it all, a sentiment that you felt deep within you and a sentiment that wrestling outlets and general fans all around the world who also had the capacity to recognize it echoed: this juggernaut of an opportunity to showcase your skill was seized from you before you could really prove yourself worthy. To the people, to yourself.

A corpse of a caterpillar before it could ever bloom into a butterfly. 

And now, there’s a fire sparking in your gut.

Chocolate covered strawberries, extravagant flowers, trips out the country, frequent and random proclamations of love.

There wasn’t a stone Roman left unturned for Thea. 

Overcompensation tends to be a symptom of gnawing guilt, after all. 

His forehead gently falls against your knee at the same time his eyes flutter closed in surrender, like he knows what you’re thinking about. Like he’s thinking about it too. You spread your legs a tiny inch. A forbidden invitation paired with a whiny whimper; a desperate siren plea of his name.

After bolting out of your hotel room that night with the speed of lightning, he stayed encaged within the peace of his escalade for a long time before pulling off, tightening his jaw and flexing his fingers for any semblance of control. And he’ll never admit it if he was ever confronted, but he spun the block. He pulled back into the parking garage and contemplated it.

He thought about it.  

But then he thought about Thea. Thea, who has never forsaken him. Thea, who has suffered through the loss of all three babies they’ve ever conceived before birth. Thea, who slept on uncomfortable chairs at the hospital during the trials and tribulations of his health battles. Thea, who left everything she’s ever known to facilitate his career aspirations. 

So how could he? He couldn’t.

He did everything in his power to scrub your essence off of him: physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. He showered three times in succession. He blocked your phone number. Then, he made a couple phone calls to management with a request that carried no room for leeway this time around.

He dug through the cardboard boxes in the dark and dusty attic and stared at the crumpled up piece of vows with faded lead etched on it from all those years ago, reminding him why he chose Thea.

And that was it. 

It’s been 4,320 seconds, 180 days, 26 weeks, six months since you last seen Roman.

Until now.

Now, as you sit atop a high stool at Naomi’s outdoor bar and lock eyes with him the second you toss your head over your shoulder— curious as to the influx of commotion at the backyard gate during her and Jimmy’s 4th of July cookout. You wish you didn’t feel it. The peace that you’ve made with the heat that blooms in your ribcage but spreads like wildfire. Your eyes dart to Naomi and she looks just as lost as you are when she inconspicuously slides her phone out her backpocket.

mimi ♡: He told us he wasn’t gonna be able to make it. I have no idea what’s going on. I’m so sorry 

mimi ♡: U know I would’ve told u he was coming if I knew                                             

2:21 PM.

You grip the spine of your mimosa a little tighter than you were two minutes ago,the sizzle of smoke, indistinct rowdy chatter, laughing children, and throwback jams wafting from the stereo of a hefty speaker overstimulating your senses now that you were far more distressed than you were two minutes ago. 

There’s a lot of pressure on you right now. You’re in an uncomfortable situation, not only because you’re in the same vicinity as the man who is the direct source of every single issue you’ve faced in your professional career, but you’re on his turf. This is his family. You’re the outsider. 

Unbeknownst to you, standing beside his brother at the grill, Jey is watching this all play out with the eye of an eagle. He watches Roman unlatch the backyard gate with one hand and carry a shiny package of TNT explosives under the other arm, Thea trailing in behind him as symphonies of greetings expel from family members scattered around the yard. He catches the silent interaction between you and his sister-in-law and sighs under his breath.

“Man, hold this, uce.” 

He passes his seasoned pair of tongs to Jimmy and unties the knot of his apron behind his back as he makes his way to the backyard bar. An arched football slices through the blue sky when he slips the apron off and tosses it over his shoulder, sliding behind the bar before you see him.

“Uh-uh, where you goin?” he interrupts you before you can slide off the stool.

“Um, to the restroom?”

He smacks his teeth, “with your purse?”

You look down to the bag clasped in your hand before sighing, sitting back on the stool and placing your purse onto the bartop.

He grabs your mimosa by the spine and tugs some liquor from beneath the bar before pouring it into the mimosa. You laugh, so he laughs.

“I can’t stay, Jey.”

“Ion know whatchu talkin bout.”

“Yes you do. That’s why you’re over here, right?”

He looks up at you from his concoction and then closes the cap on the liquor, returning it back to it’s place.

“I’m over here cause you look like a wallflower at my brothers get-together. And if there are any wallflowers, that means the kickback lame,” he looks away from you, “Aye Jimmy! Is this kickback lame?!” he yells out for his brother and you scramble to slap him on his chest to get him to lower his voice as to not any draw attention.

“Hell naw! Who said that?”

Jey shrugs, tossing a finger at you.

You hear grass crunching under shoes from behind you and suddenly Jimmy is sitting to the left of you but you can’t peel your eyes off of Jey, your hand incredulously cupping your mouth at his outburst.

“Say it ain’t so.” Jimmy states, looking between you and Jey.

Shaking your head, you explain to him what you were telling his brother. The conversation shifts gears when Naomi joins and persuades the group into playing a round of uno over at the outdoor sofa. One round crossfaded into three which crossfaded into numerous other card and board games until the sun set. 

When you find yourself growing restless, you separate from the group with a stack of dirty dishes in your palms and stroll into the empty house to discard of the dishes. 

As the faucet’s stream polishes the ceramics in your hand as you hold it under the water, you feel it.

Eyes.

It instills a deep sense of paranoia within you. Your eyes have scanned the expanse three separate times, lazily and then slowly and then very meticulously in hopes of pinpointing the source. You sweep the hazy vicinity once more but this time you lock eyes with the source.

You expel a tight sigh past your lips. You don’t even have to turn around. You know he’s there.

Something softly thuds against the kitchen island and you turn your head to see your wallet placed there before his herculean frame— almost a silhouette due to the luminated backdrop of the tangerine sunset past his build, in the backyard. You soundlessly return to softly scrubbing the plate clean.

A minute passes.

He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t move either.

“Jimmy and Naomi put alot of effort into putting this together.”

“So.”

“So don’t make me fuck it up for them, Roman,” you tuck a loose strand behind your ear, “don’t make me fuck it up.”

With his bottom lip bitten between his teeth in ponder, he takes a second to digest the sentiment. He’s never really taken you for a brazen daredevil at the mouth with the singular exception of the moments following the time he unintentionally caused significant damage to your ankle and became the catalyst of the first and only blip on your professional tracksheet thus far. Even then, that independent situation unfurled after months and months and months of subtle transgressions— equivalent to having a long, less than ideal day and bursting into tears only after you arrive home and your belt loop gets latched on a door handle.

It seems to be a pattern with you two.

The ebb-and-flow. The long periods of piling tension rolled into motion due to his inability to communicate and behave with you the way he truly desires and then manifesting in frustration but delivered to your front door in the final form of misdirected ignorance. 

It never fails.

That usual sensual liveliness about you that piqued his interest during that fateful NXT interview almost two years ago has been stunted. He knows it. Everyone knows it. Now, you’re self-aware enough to recognize that falling out with the thickest pillar supporting the operations of a male dominated, billion dollar business was a major oversight on your behalf which has almost boxed you into the placement of a social outcast. The slippery politics sucking you dry and leaving you for a pile of bones. 

There’s a varnish of guilt that lines his features, perhaps due to the hazelnut sadness in your eyes. He’s heard indistinct whispers through the grapevine for a while during his attempts to keep his distance that can be traced via a paper trail back to your coworkers and peers, ridiculous enough that he refuses to breathe life into them, but it’s hard to refuse when you’re standing before him. As breathtaking as you’ve always been, yet absolutely depleted, “Isabel…” 

And perhaps it’s what propelled him into swiping your wallet from your table after ensuring his wife was deeply engrossed in conversation with a family member, crushing Jey’s attempt of a heroic intervention beneath the sole of his shoe like he was a slimy cockroach with a low and stern Shut Up when he saw Roman take your belonings and roam into the house behind you.

Your hand, fatigued from holding the grudge, drops the ceramic plates with a reverbrating clank into the sink. You rush past the kitchen and through the halls with every intent of preserving yourself from digging yourself into a deeper hole, disoriented when your elbow is gripped and tugged into an empty bedroom and bookended with the silky click of a lock.

The speed in which you tug your arm away from his possessive grasp startles you both once in the solitude of the empty sanctuary, but him more so than you. An unsuccessful organ transplant where the body deems the foreign entity as a threat rather than an antidote— you have emotionally marinated in your resentment towards him for so long that your body’s natural response to his touch is immediete rejection, “don’t touch me.”

Gathering the courage to apply your body weight on your other foot as you stand, you immediately scurry to your feet, inhaling a tight gust of air and squeezing your eyes shut.

His eyes spring around your features in multiple, quick successions, “what the fuck do you want from me? Huh!”

Peace. Uproar. Honesty. Transparency. 

Despite your own desire for a dose of his honesty, you’re hypocritically far too polished and noble to admit what it is you truly itch for from him. Too honorable and righteous to peel the rug back inch by glorious inch and reveal the tight-lipped accumulation of pink dirt you’ve swept beneath the surface for a very long time in the name of a carrying a clear conscious and straying away from ruffling any feathers. And, he simply does not deserve that from you. He doesn't deserve your secrets. He doesn't deserve your vulnerability. He doesn't deserve a fleeting glance at the cards tucked in your hands. So you keep them close to your chest, “I want absolutely nothing from you. I want nothing to do with you.” Snapshots flit through your mind at unruly speeds: your conversation with Paul, the faint bone-chilling sensation of fire running up your ankle, eating lunch in isolation in your dressing room as a rookie, the tight finger-snap of rejection pooling red-hot embarrassment in your stomach at the hotel, his suave and effortless manuevers and dodging your every feeble attempt at an apology. Weak and shaky, “you’re pathetic.”

A whistling wind rolls a tumbleweed across the sandy soil of a Nevada desert.

Despite his own desire for a dose of your honesty, he’s hypocritically far too dutiful to admit what it is he truly itches for to himself. Too obligated to promises he’s already made to indulge in the forbidden fruit that haunts him in his dreams and stirs him awake in the midst of stormy nights. His conscious torn into two, split evenly in the middle. Snapshots flit through his mind at unruly speeds: his heart nosediving into his stomach at the haunting sound of your scream piercing the air the night of your injury, his conversation with Paul, lingering glances despite your awareness, eyes pinned on you during your first night back at gorilla. But he’s too obligated to promises he’s already made. His jaw wired tightly shut in indignation, he stares at you in silence as tension rolls off the blades of his rigid shoulders.

You’re a hellcat on turbo with a dark tint and severed breaks when you get like this, “look at you. You know it too. You can never confront shit. Ever. All you do is run.” You pause and desperately rummage for something that will elicit a reaction from him even half as equivalent in intensity to the kinds that you’ve been grappling with, “like a bitch.”

And you get it.

His thumb and forefinger press into the plush flesh of your jaw with analytical precision and a tilting force just enough that you’re resorted to eyeing him down the slope of your nose before you even get the chance to blink. Your chest rises and falls in sharp cycles, your stomach tied in a tight knot as he furrows his brows while looking down at you, “oh yea? I’m a bitch?” 

“Yeah.”

“And what else? Tell me.” 

When it gets too intense, when his gaze starts to feel like he’s talking to you without saying a word, when it feels like you’ve known him forever and just met him all at once, when it feels like he’s a second away from unearthing your most depraved impulses, when you start to feel small at the foot of his scrutiny, you shove his hand off and watch the floor as he emits a low scoff beneath his breath.

His hunky frame inches away from yours, his arms across his chest, “gon ‘head. Tell me about myself since you know every-fucking-thing Isabel.”

In biology, the way in which we ensure immunization from foreign bacterias and virus’ is by taking it upon ourselves to insert those virus-causing organisms within us via vaccination with the intent of familiarizing our body enough to the organism to build the antibody to fight it— that way, the illness doesn't have a profound effect on our immune system should we ever contract the virus again, since we were proactive and already trained our body to combat it. In life, resistance to fear is built the same way. You have to be foreseeing enough to inject yourself with temporary toxins for the greater good despite it feeling like you’re nosediving into deep waters, swimming with blood-thirsty sharks as cinderblocks hang tied to your ankles, “no. I don’t know everything, but I do know one thing.” Your eyes latch with his like a lock and key, your voice small as a mouse, “I know you feel it too.”

All the air in the room has been sucked out. 

You’re in the middle of the ocean, one blood-thirsty shark slowly circling you.

“It’s why you ripped me off of you like I was a venereal disease and almost shattered the foot I stand on. It’s why you haven’t been able to look me in the eye for the past six months, right?” You have to know. You have to. Because whether he knows it or not, the career you’ve sacrificed blood, sweat, and tears for hangs on the line tied by a thin thread. And apart from that, you don’t care about what else really hangs in the balance in the moment: not his wife, not his self perception, not even yours. If you know the why, then you’ll know just how to manuever this dillema so your career is in safe hands. 

His chest puffs out once, a chuckle barren of humor entirely spills from his nostril— eyes ablaze. Deciding against dignifying you with a response, he turns and walks to the door.

“It’s why you put in a good word for me, isn’t it?”

Has a really good eye for talent. I mean Roman was the one who put Isabel on Paul’s radar when she was still over at NXT, after all. 

Stillwater. 

His back prevents the sight of his eyelids rolling shut as his fingers mold around the door handle. 

His unresponsiveness feeds the fire of your spiel, “I’ll violate my contractual obligations. I’ll go elsewhere. Tell me I’m making this all up and it’s a coincidence. Tell me I just keep on stepping on your toes and that’s where it starts and ends. I’ll make all of our lives easier. Because I don’t want this. I don’t want my position in this organization to be dependent on the state of my relationship with you. I deserve better than that, Roman. So call me crazy, or be honest to the both of us.”

If regret was a color, it would be the film of deep navy blue that envelops the morning just a couple footsteps before dawn. Nostalgic and self-depricating. Something like the faint billow of Bobby Womack’s If You Think You’re Lonely Now wafting in the air of The Bellagio’s bar in the same fashion the scent of funnel cake at an amusement park does. Regret is the condensed glass on ice in his palm, melting on borrowed time. 

Perhaps the worst part of regret is the alternative, the masochistic relish in marinating in another universe in which your decision is slightly or entirely different than the one you landed on, resulting in a completely different outcome. Is the grass greener on the other side? Or is it green where you water it? Was the grass doomed from the start, sprouting from contaminated soil with infected toxins?

Perhaps the grass is green under you and there is no contingency.

It’s nomansland. It’s quicksand except every single grain of sand is an alternate outcome, engulfing his lungs as the ground swallows him whole, belching, and spitting out nothing but his bones.

A thin tube of brown velvet lies nestled between your index finger and thumb, tracing the lining of your razor sharp cupid bow with your eyes glues to the compact mini mirror the size of your palm in the back of the black escalade. When the grandeur golden marquee of your hotel approaches into view, you place the liner back into your clutch and exit the vehicle, tossing a curt Thank You to the chauffeur.

Pure kismet, he spots you instantly. 

Pure kismet, you spot him instantly.

It isn’t discernible to neither of you when his knee begins to bounce beneathe the guise of the hovering counter as you begin to approach, his head hung low as if there were something suddenly very interesting on the napkin under the foot of his whiskey. 

The last conversation you two had two months ago marked the beginning of something else entirely for you. The response you were fishing for that night returned an empty hook, but there was something final in its essence. After all, there’s only so much water you can fit under the bridge before it overflows. As luck would have it, or just the natural cycle of good karma, you were offered a contract at AEW with benefits that chucked your current arrangement with WWE out of the frame, including complete creative control of your character and likeness. An iridescent, silky pearl discovered within the jaws of a grueling tough-as-shit clam, “you didn’t think I’d leave without saying goodbye, did you?”

His glass meets his lips, his body facing forward entirely, “I did, actually.”

You have a newfound sense of calm within you. The type of peace that only the knowledge of what’s to come can ensure. The type of peace that envelops you when you see the sun yawn over the sky after a very dark night. Trusting what you can’t exactly see. Blind faith, “I don’t like to leave things unsaid. You should know that about me.”

This draws him to you. He eyes you behind his drink. His hooded eyes take you in before the glass contacts the wooden counter with a clank. He rolls his lips into his mouth and looks away, “that’s not your color.”

“Excuse me?”

Silence. 

You raise your hand in the air and point to his drink when the bartender catches your eye, signaling one for yourself, “whatever that means.” You watch him mindlessly roll the band on his finger before peeping out again, “what’s my color then?”

The color you were in the first day he saw you, “cherry red.”

You glance down at the minimalistic black silk clinging onto the skin of your frame, dipping and divoting along with the natural curve and pivot of you. You shrug, thinking nothing of it, “my date liked it.”

How do you mourn the loss of something you never really had? How do you bury something that never even lived? Perhaps the reason why the thought of you out with someone else is lighting his skin on fire is because he’s silently aware of where the fingers of fault should be pointed at and there’s nothing he can do to negate it. But hurt men are impossible men, “well you’re here with me so I take it he was a dud.” 

The sound you emit is half a laugh and half a scoff. You thank the bartender with a curt nod and nurse the glass with your palm, “You’re unbelievable. Has anyone ever told you that?” he mindlessly shrugs, “anyways. i just wanted to stop by and… clear the air before I left. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but last night was my last ni—”

“—I was introduced to wrestling when I was in the Airforce.”

When the inital slight surprise of the unexpected revelation wears off, a phantom thumbnail of a polished silver dogtag swinging on the neck of Roman’s olive green fitted tee— tucked underneath camo cargos comes alive in your minds eye. A location somewhere confidential. Somewhere top secret, but sandy and hot, his skin tanned and freckles indulgent. His hair unkempt and glossy with sweat as his upper body folds in situps when in the privacy of isolation. 

He runs his fingers through his rough beard, still faced forward, “whenever any one of us had a bone to pick with one another over there, we’d handle it like men; with our fists. Cut our losses if we were defeated. First blood would end the fight. But it started getting messy. Rules were getting bent. Our men were getting hurt.” He takes a sip, “one time one of the boys stole one of the airmen’s breadrolls at lunch. The concussion put him on his back for a month. Our sergeant held our feet to the fire.”

You fill in the blank, “so they started wrestling instead.”

He lips purse in acknowledgement once.

The Airforce was the perfect solution to the troubled adolescent. There tends to be a haunting trail of overcompensation that’s left in the aftermath of trauma. Ghosts that whisper indistinctly in your ear, of which only your insecurities and weaknesses and fears are audible— telling you that you’re weak and that you won’t ever amount to shit and that you should just quit while you’re ahead. Or maybe not. Maybe that just applies to him, “there was something about the opportunity to discipline myself that drew me to enlisting. My pops was a piece of shit. No way around it. Used to beat on my mom. Used to belittle me, taunted me when I tried to help her.”

Roman tries to lower and sit on his haunches, looking immensely out of his element as this is the most concerned he’s ever been about you since meeting you, “hold o-,”

Perhaps the fuel to build his body came from the fire of helplessness that afflicted him as a doe-eyed child, hiccuping tears away as his father scoffed and laughed at his feeble attempt at intervention. Perhaps the opportunity to disipline himself was never that simple, but rather a way to become the man he’s always aspired to be; stronger, tougher, resilent. Because our past is never truly in the past. 

And if you listen close enough, it sounds like there’s something he’s telling you without telling you.

He chuckles, but it’s absent of any humor, “I’ve spent my entire life wanting to believe I was nothing like him, that I was better than him, but shit, maybe I’m my fathers son after all.” 

Half of a man, just like his father. Wandering eyes, just like his father. Except the circumstances are vastly different. Except the context is vastly different. Except he’d never dream of laying a hand on you with the intention of hurting you. Except his father never felt a damn thing for any of those women. Except nothing is the same at all.

“Why are you telling me this, Roman?”

So call me crazy, or be honest to the both of us.

“I don’t like to leave things unsaid. You should know that about me.”

The fact that he’s too little too late isn’t lost on him, the optimistic hurl of a basketball piercing through the air mere seconds after the game-ending buzzer. But the opposing team is already celebrating, bottles of champagne popped and confetti sprinkling from the sky. 

“I don’t think that’s true at all. I think you’re the most conflicted man I’ve ever known, but you’ve never wavered. You face adversity in whichever form life decides for it to manifest that day yet you’ve never compromised your values. Your father sounds like a wet sock and I’m sure he’d be devastated to hear that you’re nothing like him despite what your mind tells you, Top Gun.”

A subtle tight-lipped smile sparks to life, warmth radiating in the ribcage of his chest.

And suddenly there is a lightness that settles between the two of you that can only be compared to the calm after the storm. The gradual sway of the trees to a slow halt after a particularly devastating hurricane, when the winds slack and the dark clouds part to make room for the sun. Because there are no more questions to ask, and you aren’t in the dark anymore. 

The two of you spend the night immersed in the longest conversation you’ve ever shared under the soft lighting of The Belliago’s bar in the name of a bid farewell. He tells you tales about his time in the force that make you laugh and you fill him in on things he missed in the six month time span during the fallout. The bartender brings you two a bowl of macadamia nuts that he mindlessly shoves to the side because you’re allergic. He slyly mentions your dress again with the intent of you elaborating more on the man you just returned from a date with so he can dissect him and make him lesser of a man for his own pride but you don’t take the bait. You tell him how happy you are about the height this new endeavor is going to take your career. He can see the light in your eyes again. 

When you excuse yourself and wander off to the ladies room, he blows a gust of air that’s been repressed in the deepest pit of his lungs all night and rubs his hand down his face. If regret was a color, it would be the forlorn warm lighting of a hotel bar somewhere in Nevada. Melancholic and self-loathing. Something like the faint billow of The Temptation’s My Girl wafting in the air of The Bellagio’s bar in the same fashion the scent of chlorine at a pool on a summer day does. Regret is the condensed glass on ice in his palm, melted. 

And it dawns on him that you don’t plan on returning when he finally notices you took your clutch to the ladies room with you.

He watches in slow motion with baited breath as you exit the bathroom, toss him one last glance over your shoulder, and leave the bar for the lobby. Quicksand. The empty archway carved into the bar’s wall instead of doors facilitate the view of you entering the elavators when the stainless steel doors slide open. Quicksand. His eyes glued on you, he tosses a wad of cash onto the counter as his feet move on their own accord. Quicksand. All the air is sucked out of your lungs when you see him approaching with the prowess of a black panther with every intention of pouncing. Quicksand. His body barely slides inbetween the constricting steel plates before his mouth is latching onto yours so intensly that even a pack of hungry wolves couldn't rip him off. His palm wrapped around your throat, your back collides into the corner of the elevator as your fingers grasp onto his tee for dear life. A deep rumbling of I fucked up I fucked up tumbling past teeth, moaning lips, and writhing bodies. 

sorry for the wait. school been turning me every way but loose i fear. but cimtfyk is back andddd it’s about to get uglier than vince mcmahon. thank u for reading <3

tags : @cyberdejos2 @annfg8 @looneyloser0 @joannasteez

[gifpackers]

arnold schwarzenegger [31 gifs]

follow the source link below for [31] gifs of arnold schwarzenegger in terminator: dark fate (2019). all gifs in this pack were made by me. i claim no legal ownership over these gifs or the copyrighted material they're derived from, but i would appreciate it if you don't edit/redistribute/steal them. use these however you want, but like & reblog if you do!

cis male

born 1947

austrian-american (white)

cw: violence, guns, wounds

[gsirvitor]

Let's list all of James Cameron's movies and what they are based on.

Aliens, Alien 3 - Sequel to someone else's IP.

Terminator 1, 2, 3, Salvation, Genesis, Dark Fate - based on The Outer Limits, The Driver and Mad Max 2, despite this it was an Original Idea, though SkyNet is clearly inspired by AM from the short story I have no Mouth and I must Scream by Harlan Jay Ellison.

Titanic - based on real events.

Piranha II: The Spawning - based on a screenplay by Charles H. Eglee.

Rambo: First Blood Part II - Sequel to someone else's IP.

The Abyss - based on H. G. Wells' short story "In the Abyss," though Cameron denies this, claiming it to be an original idea.

The Muse - based on a screenplay written by Monica Johnson and Albert Brooks.

Solaris - based on the 1961 science fiction novel of the same name by Polish writer Stanisław Lem.

True Lies -  based on the 1991 French comedy film La Totale!.

Strange Days - Original Idea, biggest flop of his career.

Alita: Battle Angel - based on Yukito Kishiro's manga series Gunnm.

Avatar 1 & 2 - Alien Pocahontas, Original Idea Do Not Steal.

Now let's go over Tolkien's works, and what they're based on.

The Hobbit - based on the story of Bilbo Baggins a character he made up to act as the focal point of thrilling adventures he'd often make up and share with his children.

The Lord of the Rings - began as a personal exploration of his interests in philology, religion, particularly Roman Catholicism, fairy tales, as well as Norse and Celtic mythology, but the trilogy was also crucially influenced by the effects of his military service during World War I.

The Silmarillion - was influenced by many sources. A major influence was the Finnish epic Kalevala, especially the tale of Kullervo. Influence from Greek mythology is also apparent in the way that the island of Númenor recalls Atlantis, and the Valar borrow many attributes from the Olympian gods.

Unfinished Tales of Númenor and Middle-earth - literally what the Director's cut of the LOTR wishes it could be, stories and essays ranging in time from the Elder Days of Middle-earth to the end of the War of the Ring, and further relates events as told in The Silmarillion and The Lord of the Rings.

The History of Middle-earth - a legendarium based on everything he's written.

Mr. Cameron, you are but a babe, unable to even stand on the shoulders of a literary giant like Tolkien.

[zuzu-the-villain]

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

♡.ೃ࿐ FORMAT: one-shot / requested

♡.ೃ࿐ PAIRING: ProHero!Deku x Reader

SUMMARY: Noticing some of the most problematic criminals finally in sight in the open, you unconsciously decided to confront them without even knowing what one of them was up to. Now finding yourself in a completely different portal of the world with Izuku who subsequently jumped into the same hole with you, encountering a secret past that you haven't heard a word about from your beloved.

♡.ೃ࿐ WORD COUNT- 2.5k+

A/N- Honestly, I'm not entirely satisfied with how hurriedly I wrote all this, but let's call it progress🧍🧺🍊 In any case, thank you anon for this kind of request, it's my first req ever and it was already pretty challenging, I hope it's alright ♡

.

.

♡.ೃ࿐

The fog triumphantly prevailed on all sides, suffocated all the air that was itself the source of life and left you alone in such a dusty hell. Not a single criminal, not even a citizen was in your sight anymore. The eyes closed little by little, orienting themselves within the sounds that echoed from all corners of your ears, but never knowing where the 'mouth of the river' of it all was.

All you could feel were the bushy shadows that blended into each other, fooling your mind that no longer even functioned at your will.

Such effects were very recognizable to you from before, but now that you found yourself in such a tense environment all on your own, not even that huge heroic feature won't get you out of the foggy situation you've gotten yourself into.

And what was worst of all, your legs gave up on you a long time ago, the whole function of your body sawed you off, snuggling against the cold floor.

"It's over, little hero. You've disturbed a lot of our peace, and the best option I'm giving you right now," a dark villain stepped out of the mist into your view, roughly grabbing your chin to make you look straight at him as he speaks.

"..is to stay quiet and still until it all ends."

You couldn't even see how pitiful it was of you to wail like this on the floor doing absolutely nothing, simply taking fate into your own hands.

The grinning shadow landed towards you, and you who were ready to accept the next blow while closing your eyes in terror, you have come to the point that you have been waiting for that blow for a long time now, but no way to come at you. Instead, there was a gut-wrenching screech that you were absolutely sure wasn't yours, but from the villain who was fit to finish you off on the spot.

And there before your very own eyes, stood Izuku. Terminating them both from getting to you, flipping them aside with all his strenth without even moving an inch from your motionless body.

"Izuku—"

"What did I tell you about running away like that?“

"But- I caught one of them..! They broke my handset and just-„

"And I did, but this one doesn't seem to give up."

They had already seen Izuku dusting other criminals on TV and it didn't seem like a good sign to them. They weren't entirely sure about his abilities, but they certainly knew that there was no messing around with this guy.

"Stay back, I don't want you to get hur—rnghh!" Successfully blocking the menacing force that was now in front of him, his attention went in sharp corners like a sword and a shield at the same time. Giving them strong strikes, and also defending the entire area where you were lying helplessly on the cold hard ground.

You were out of reach, and that was good. His eyes flashed in flames, determined to finish this pointless game with the serpentine whips that were almost impossible to avoid,

especially for those criminals who had no idea what awaits them when they decide to face a hero who always has victory at his feet.

But any way you turn it, the hero's weak point in general was always something that could easily be managed as one of the plans, and that was the only thing they could get away with. Sacrifice.

"I don't like you, hero. So to make it easier for us, we'll just get rid of that little fellow over there!"

Could they possibly mean..

„Huh.“

In the blink of an eye, you felt a texture like living mud under your feet, as if you were no longer standing on level ground. And indeed, when your head went towards the floor, you couldn't even see it anymore, sinking into a black hole that caused immobility in the stuck part of your body.

In a panic, you tried to hold on to something but it was futile, the hole sucking up everything above it was quickly out of reach, leaving only you still barely visible on the surface.

"Crap! Am I gonna die?!“

"Hold on, I-I've got you!" came the shout from Izuku who left the villains on the run, throwing himself in front of you to grab your still-unsinkable arm.

"Izuku, move away! If you stay with me you will be sucked in too!"

"Just hang in there, dammit! Hold on tight!"

.

.

.

"So, what now?"

A dead silence took over the thinned space between the two of you, meeting a familiar street that you believed you had even passed many times, but without any attention.

„Don't act like it's not your fault! If you hadn't followed them when I told you to stay with me, none of this would have happened.“

"You're right, none of that would have happened but," you looked down, grabbing his hands in yours.

"What if someone else got hurt? Who would be to blame then?"

Now there, you've got a point.

Izuku decided to give in, as he always did. He knew how much you liked to be helpful and if you hadn't been there, who knows, maybe someone would have really gotten hurt. After all, you're a pro just like him.

It didn't even take him long to wrap his arms around your loose body when he realized the effects were still on you.

„You alright honey? Does it hurt?“

„Don't worry too much, it will just take a little while for the numbness in my legs to go away, but I'm fine.“

"His quirk- I got written it all down, but, but I'm afraid the notebook fell out of my pocket when I jumped into the hole. It could also be that right now it's in that void between the portals.." You could notice that his curious eyebrows descended like a gloomy puppy, cupping both of his cheeks into your hands while you intended to kiss every little dot that was right there on his skin.

"Stop being so gloomy about that notebook of yours. The important thing is that it didn't end that bad. I mean, we just, found ourselves in a completely different time but that, .. it could have been worse than that, I suppose..?“ You shrugged.

"Out of sight.“

„What?“ you stared puzzledly at the unfamiliar words he mumbled just now, did he just told you to—

„That villain's quirk, it's called 'Out of sight.'“

Oh.

„It's by the hole that suffered and brought us here. Similar to Warp-Gate, when I think a little better. It's black, there is a little purple color over the edges and the suction strength is strong to fight. I wonder if even the entire wardrobe could sink in the portal, I mean, why not?— but what if the weight of another body does not depend at all, or if self-"

"Love, don't forget to breathe." You smiled at his monologue, looking around once more.

Behind your small figurines was a huge building that was supposed to be a school, most likely middle school with the fact that you saw younger children outside, must be in their teens.

And then you thought.

"That's where you went to school too, let me guess?"

„Ahhh…“

You didn't even notice a thick drop of sweat pouring down his forehead while swallowing that lump in throat, only earning a nervous chuckle from him.

"Yeah..! That's my former school, but! Let'smoveon—"

„Uhm, o-kay? Why are you pulling my hand like that, though?“

„Pullingyourhandlikewhat?“

At such a terrible speed you couldn't catch his words at all but just him laughing it off, it worried you a little.

„You seem to have predicted a bomb falling from the sky, haven't you?“ you tried to laugh at your own joke, but something was telling you to stop, preventing you from stretching your lips into a smile.

"We uh- we have a lo-lot to find out, you know! What year it is..time of day..are there uhm, well uh— any famous people hereee..whatthehell is going on around us..." he now began to list completely meaningless things that entered his mind so pointlessly, passing in a flash a small alley that barely emerged in that darkness, but something caught your eye.

You suddenly went into reverse dragging a nervous Izuku behind you.

"Woah, hey! Where-"

"I don't know what came over you, but whatever it is there, I'll find out for myself!"

Completely ignoring his panicked gestures behind you, you clung to the wall like gum, listening while also accompanying what was going on.

"Who do you think you are, huh? Trying to be somebody and something, and you know what? Save that for later, maybe after you're done crying like the little whiner that you are!"

Not far in front of you were two younger boys, certainly from that school based on their uniforms, arguing.

"You think your dreams are worth fulfilling so easily? Do you really think, you poor thing, that you can be worth anything in this world? With what, that non-existent quirk of yours?“

Hearing such harsh words that crushed the soul more than any stone, even though you just sneaked up behind the wall and listened, your ears were already enough of a witness thinking with all the windings of your brain for a reason:

„why you should not kill the living god in that child right now?“  And the moment you took two angry steps forward, Izuku pulled you to himself, not knowing when it would be time to drag you back to him once more, but this time you had enough of his games.

"Izuku, move. I want to teach that Mr. toughy a lesson." you leaned forward hoping to magically fly out of his grasp but it was useless.

"No, just wait..!“

"Seriously? Are you even in your right mind right now?— listen, that child is in trouble and you, I don't know what you're doing-"

"No, stop, listen to me. I want you to take a good look and just follow their words. It will click, I know it will."

You looked submissively into the distance, noticing very clear faces with the sharpness of your eyes, not even remembering if you had ever known them, but everything seemed to be in its place in your brain. One was blonde with spiked ends, acting silly like Bakugo in general when he charges at Izuku with all his might, and the other literally looked like your Zuzu. That untamed hair that was springing out in all directions with the voice with a very high, yet cracking tone must have been giving you some signs.

"Once again, if I hear that you are interfering in heroic matters, and especially when it comes to UA high school, you'd better be gone. Don't forget who you are, Deku."

The last word played around in your head for a while. You turned to Izuku, then to them, putting the puzzles together in your brain until it finally clicked.

Right. It did click.

"So, you do realize this is the past, right?“

„Why didn't you tell me right away?“

"You'd just start arguing." He gave you a small kiss on the forehead, taking your hand.

„Now that I know, and now that you know, we can go somewhere else! C'mon!"

"Yeah, totally.“

You moved away from the wall, no longer caring so much if one of them noticed you spying on them, because it was no longer in your plan to hide, listen, observe. You've had enough of hesitation, you still wanted to explain some very major things to someone.

But, of course, there will always be someone that will take you two steps back once again, none other than Izuku.

"Wha—„

„What are you doing!? We can't let them see us!"

"And why is that?"

„What if he somehow recognizes you and then what? You're gonna tell him you're from the future?

"Izuku don't be silly, he didn't even know I existed back then, where could he most likely see me anyway? In the butcher shop?"

"Hey, anything is possible..! He knew how to go to the butcher's shop a couple of times when his mother—„

"Izuku, I was joking. But really, like you have any idea where I go on what day. Hey you!" It was already too late for Izuku to pull you back, you were already out in the open.

Now firing himself in the forehead he decided to give in, following you like a baby.

"What the-WhOah!"

You grabbed young Katsuki by the uniform that was wrapped up to his neck and hung him on the wall like a brand new picture, throwing yourself in his face as if you were assigned the role of a mobster, although you were surprisingly good at it.

"What do you think you're doing, Mr. toughy one? You think you're better than anyone in this world, right? Why don't you go home and think about some things and only then go whip someone like that in the streets when there's not a living soul in sight!"

You barked at the top of your lungs at him as your husband tried to pull you off him with all his manly strength that was all along useless against your rages. He could have dragged you with an excavator right now, and you still wouldn't have gotten off the tousled blonde. Not to mention the younger Izuku who was standing there like a statue of liberty between the three of you, fearfully debating in his head whether he had pissed or shit himself.

„No! He doesn't deserve my mercy, let me—ngh—at him! Let me!“

„Don't be a savage! Calm down, understand me!“

No one in this environment knew how many times Izuku had apologized for your barbarian-like behavior, but somewhere deep in his heart he was very glad that you were defending his weaker side, the weaker self that then, and even now, he couldn't defend.

But of course, he couldn't just let you knock all the baby teeth out of the young Katsuki's mouth, even though the thought of it was too ridiculous not to laugh at.

Just imagine, the fearless king explosion murder, without any teeth. Seriously.

"And what are you laughing at?!"

"Nothing, nothing, just calm down, love."

"L-Lo-Looove!?" The younger Izuku shuddered in astonishment, catching him in the act of falling unconscious.

.

.

„So, you want to tell me that you are Deku, that little ant, but from the future?“ Leaning against the wall with his arms hugged to his chest, he watched Izuku and his similar figure still lying unconscious on your knees, quite suspiciously comparing in silence.

"Yeah, I don't believe you..."

"I mean-! Who would, right? I know you—"

"This is his twelfth notebook in a row, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry?"

You heard me, is this his twelfth notebook in a row?“ Katsuki repeated the question with an irritated expression on his face, trying to convince himself of something that was almost impossible. But the story with such a forum that played the biggest role made the most sense, could it really be true what they are saying ?, he thought.

"I guess...not? Uh, I probably had another notebook back then, writing down a lot about the professional heroes I saw out there whenever something happened, keeping track of their martial skills and stamina too, but I guess not. Oh, and if I'm not mistaken, you're holding your All might card in your pocket right now.“

„What? How do you-“

„We already told you. We really are from the future, as crazy as that sounds in your head. And the one over there, 'Deku', is also me in front of you. We share secrets..“ He jealously moved his head away the second he glanced at you, watching you glorify every little thing, every breath young Deku takes and lets out, every little movement he makes in your arms.

"You're not bored in life, are you, younger me?" he whispered to himself.

"If you're really not lying…S-Swear on All Might!"

"Hey! We're not going to swear on All Might now, it's serious!"

“Then you're not a real twerp!”

"But! You can't just—"

"Wonderful! Now you've woken him up!" you fumed silently at them, hugging to yourself the green haired 'baby' even tighter now, who looked like he was going to fall into that unconsciousness once again, very soon.

But as soon as you started to scratch his neck from behind, your eyes blossomed as his greenish ones sank into the depths. You simply loved learning a lot about your past sweetheart, and you didn't complain about a single thing.

The silence lasted for a while, but not for the eternity.

„I just want to know one thing,"

„That's alright."

"Will I ever..be what I've.. always dreamed of?"

The question seemed unreal, but as unreal as it was, Izuku just flashed a smile as he stared at his old friend, ready to say something as if it were the whole secret of the world, but as soon as he opened his mouth, you found yourself suddenly entangled in the conversation.

"Hey, Mr. toughy, you want an answer, don't you?"

All attention was curiously on you, especially Katuski's, which grew more and more with time in his playful lungs.

„Promise me something, and the future is all yours…“

.

.

The prolonged silence was now erupted by a noise that was like a stick on drums, here and there, all around your head. Squinting with eyes that were sensitive to the brightness shining on you right now, you took some time to recover. Trying to remember at least something that would be clear.

Why were you in a hospital bed? You don't see any cuts or serious wounds on yourself. What happened?

"Ah, you're awake! And it's about time," smiled the old woman, standing calmly by the door, in her hands a small notebook and a pen that produced clicking sounds with the pressure of her finger.

You peeked out the window and saw that it must be daylight, also recording with your eyes the wedding ring that was safely placed on the table next to the hospital bed. The ring was safe, which made you very relaxed in this really confusing, yet so worrying moment.

Of course, the ring.

"Where is Izuku?"

"How could I have known that you would ask that first," smirking again, the woman took small steps to your bed. Now she was examining you as if you were covered in wounds, writing down that PhD stuff as usual.

"Oh sweetie, don't you worry now! He'll be back soon.“ But soon the lady saw thise stunning eyes of yours now in complete alarm, so she decided to make this aura brighter with some good information.

„However, I remember him saying he was going to visit Tartarus for a very short time."

"Why there..?"

"Ah, only the good heavens know what's he doing there. Want some water, sweetie? I couldn't offer you anything while you were unconscious, you know. Here, I'll bring you water and you just relax, so you can get more circulation back. I'll be quick!“

And with that, the lady slowly ran out into the hallway, hearing her heavy clogs clattering on the parquet floor in the distance. Really, nothing she said was ringing in your head, except for Izuku and Tartarus. Why do you remember absolutely nothing? Maybe you hit your head too hard, maybe...

"You will promise me something.."

"You won't touch Izuku anymore, because your futures aren't that different from now on.."

Maybe....

Maybe t—

"Here I am back!- With the water, of course! Take a sip, just be careful not to spill it on yourself, hihi."

„Oh. Right.“

.

.

.

Meanwhile, in Tartarus-

" If something generally got stuck in that vacuum of yours, you could bring it back, right? It's about uhm, important- very important documents uh, in the form of a.. notebook..yeahh.."

[alarici]

meronia hanahaki au? 🥺

Shorter than others because I am sleepy (undercaffienated). also im not sure if the ages are right bc of canon confusions. the intention is the ages mentioned are them at the time of L's death.

warning: mild gore, blood, canon typical violence, brief mention of domestic and familial abuse

teen, 565 words

----

At sixteen, there are crocuses taking root in Mello’s lungs.

He knows this because there’s no other explanation for it. The tightness of his chest beyond the typical strain of his diaphragm. He can feel the roots along his bronchi, running along the vessels that take air to his heart.

The petals come a year later. By then, Mello has accepted his fate.

—

It’s not about love. It’s not about hate. It’s about a missed connection. A line that should have crossed, or tore prematurely.

This is the fact, according to whoever is willing to share.

Mello finds survivors of it. People who lived through it by crawling back to exes who punched them or to mothers who did not love gently or to a piano teacher who moved a town away.

It’s not fair.

Mello’s first love is dead, and the person the flowers need to find is across the ocean.

Mello does everything in his power to make sure that first, Nate River is his enemy—he will be beat, and second, Nate River will never know. Not when Mello wins. Not when Mello is buried in an unmarked plot outside of Tokyo.

—

Mello coughs and coughs and coughs until he pulls entire sprouts from his mouth. They’re unrecognizable, soaked in red blood. They used to be purple, Mello is sure of it. They’re crocuses. They’ve brought their spindly roots and stems with them. They come up sinewy and hard. They are not beautiful.

Mello presses them between dictionaries and encyclopedias. He never stays in his apartments long. He presses them into a small book and keeps them.

Memento mori.

This doesn’t have to last forever. Nobody is going to know.

—

Mello kills ten men on the sabbath. It’s against God to do such a thing. Killing is work, after all. The gun is a tool.

And then Mello must work again to force the petals out of his trachea. They come up violently, as they usually do. A mess of spit and red blood fell out of Mello’s mouth. The bathtub catches them, and Mello is too tired to save them. They are there when he wakes in the morning, peels his face from the bathroom floor.

—

Mello remembers less and less of the source of his terminality—his fantastical illness that has him part plant, part man, further than ever from God.

He remembers toothless smiles. A wit too sharp and so unfair and so maddening. Jet black eyes against colorless skin.

Nate River, Near, is L, is the winner, is the one smiling down at Mello when he stares at dark ceilings. When he looks in the eyes of souls shot out.

It’s filthy, this work. Mello is good at it.

Near has never been dirty all his life. How ironic, to be sullied by this. Mello’s sin and Mello’s failure. The universe hates me and loves you. For this, I have my book of crocuses, and you have the world in the palm of your hand.

— — — 

At fourteen, Near has orchids in his left lung. Soon, they will spread to his right. Soon, Mello will leave, and Near will become L. Soon, Near will count his days until he can chase his lion down across the world, and they will stand side by side and suffocate together.

As soon draws Nearer, a fearless boy fighting a god begins to fear that Soon will never come.

[alcalexandria]

Cuts, Reshoots and Changes made to Terminator: Dark Fate.

As part of another giant essay I’m working on about the possibility of Dani & Grace being an intentional romance at some point (Edit - that has since been posted, and you can now find it here), I wanted to gather up a reasonably detailed list of Dani/ Grace scenes that we know were changed at some point during production of Dark Fate.

This is mostly a reference for that post rather than something standalone, but you might find it of interest all the same. I won’t spend *too* much time on my extrapolations here, but you’ll probably get the gist of what I’m thinking.

You’re more than welcome to offer your own angle though, similar or different, and like I say I’ll have more on that front soon. Let me know if you can think of any relevant omissions or errors.

So what was changed? Why? How do we know?

There’s quite a bit to this, so I’m going to try to detail it in the order it appears/would have appeared in the movie, and try to explain both how we know it was cut/swapped, and what we know about why.

Again though, note that this isn’t necessarily a complete list of every cut or change we know about – just ones relevant to Dani & Grace, and how else they might or might have been interpreted if things were different. And a lot of these may be minor in isolation, but I include them for the sake of a bigger picture.

First, let’s talk about the Director’s Commentary (available in my country only with the iTunes release.)

The commentary involves Director Tim Miller and Editor Julian Clarke discussing the movie’s production and is well worth a listen – Miller has an obvious passion for the Terminator franchise and its lore, and his theories and ideas are engaging to hear. Clarke explains his thought processes logically, and for the most part, I couldn’t fault him.

… But.

In the commentary, the guys explain they did an entire editing pass to remove moments where Grace and Dani were overtly – in their words - “tactile”.

We don’t know the full extent of this, but the fact they call it an entire editing pass it quite a big deal – an editing pass means running through the whole movie as it’s assembled so far, to reselect cuts and alternate takes, from the many hours of dailies available, while ensuring the flow and continuity is still right.

It’s a significant undertaking and it’s not done lightly at the late stage we're talking here. It represents a lot of work hours by the Editor and Director (and in this case, almost certainly, the Producer)

The reason they give for this is that they didn’t want the audience to know that Grace and Dani have any kind of established relationship in the future – they want it to be a surprise that Grace already knows Dani in her own time.

To me that makes no sense, and I’ll detail why elsewhere - but it is the official reason they give, so I want to start with that preface.

It’s also worth saying, in the spirit of fairness, that they mention doing some (much less intensive) cuts and swaps with Dani and Diego, because the Editor was afraid that what’s normal for Latin actors would be too confusingly tactile for Cool Ranch flavored audiences, who may read it as a little weird and incestuous.

I think that’s silly, but I include it just to give additional context on the Editor’s perspective.

Now, on to the changes.

1. Pharmacy.

Originally the pharmacy staffmember who helps Dani pull Grace onto the street -

- then immediately asked Dani out, which she declines in no uncertain terms.

2. Motel.

The scene with Dani and Sarah has been tweaked considerably from the original. Initially, Dani had been seen crying more over Diego and her dad, this was almost all cut down and streamlined - the reason for the changes given being that test audiences were finding her a bit of a bummer.

But that isn't the only change, and the other isn't so cut and dry.

Source: Booasaur

This image is used to represent the FIRST AID KIT card in the weirdly excellent Dark Fate tie in card game.

Notably - images used in the card game are all promotional images that would have been approved for release by the studio, and the card company would have needed to have them as early as possible so they could design and produce their material.

Promotional images like this are not simply movie stills – they are actual photographs, taken by a purpose-hired photographer, which is why they never exactly align with a shot from the movie. However, because they are taken during the shooting of the movie, they’re clues to cuts we wouldn’t otherwise know of.

Dani never gets this close to Grace in the motel room while she’s unconscious in the final cut, and there’s no ice on her body in this shot, so it presumably sat before Sarah either ice’d or dosed her.

Presumably, also, this fell afoul of the "no touchy" edit pass. But there is no counterpart to this shot in the movie at all, and it's the only one of the card images where this is the case. The image itself hasn't been used in any later publicity releases either, as far as I can tell. The card game is the only trace of it out there.

So it seems like not only was the scene cut, the still itself was "de-approved" at some point later in production.

Additionally – though this is speculation, I’m not the only one making it - from the way scene is edited, it sure feels a lot like the first thing Dani does when she’s let back into the room by Grace after being sent for chips is immediately hug her, and the scene has been chopped around a bit to hide it.

Take a look for yourself, and see where this impression comes from – even though Dani and Grace have dialogue and are the active players in the moment, the camera lingers on Sarah, doing and saying nothing, for a weirdly long time, and for no clear reason.

It feels very much like a cutaway an editor might improvise so as not to show something else, and there are plenty more instances of this later we’ll come back to.

This trick, where we see generic reaction footage of somebody while rewritten/rerecorded dialogue is delivered from offscreen, is usually a last resort, a way to overhaul a storyline or conversation very late in the process.

It is used way more than I’d consider normal throughout DF – often during really major plot points, where you ideally want to make the best of everyone’s on-set performances and dynamism. It will come up a lot more.

We also know the road trip stuff with the three women was cut way down, in this case because a lot of it involved Sarah and Grace being snippier than they really need to be.

*PS – The motel room is pretty much an exact clone of the one Kyle and Sarah hid out in during T1. Keep that in your back pocket for later.

3. South Tunnel Future War Flashback.

We know from Tim Miller that the Future War battle was cut short. The original longer version showed us Hadrell/Quinn having a glorious last stand against the Rev-7s until they killed him, which presumably influences Grace’s decision to be Augmented.

According to Reddit users who were confirmed to have seen the test screenings, this longer version was actually in the cut they saw, albeit with incomplete SFX, so it was still intact even at that relatively late stage.

Remember from above - it’s supposed to be a surprise Grace knows Dani at all. That’s what Tim and Julian have told us, and it’s so important that it was worth time and money to cut scenes that had already cost too much time and money to film.

Here in the flashback we see in the final cut though, we are straight up shown Dani on the rescue stretcher.

And we are very pointedly shown Grace alone attending to her during the flight. Which casts doubt on that.

But the alternate/deleted version of this scene would have gone further, we would also have been shown “The Commander” in the alternate version of the volunteering scene  –

While that alternate scene isn’t as well executed as the one they went with, in my opinion, it’s notable in that it has Grace volunteering much more deliberately. She insists on it, outside the immediate aftermath of battle, and her reasons seem far more personal than her immediate duty to the Commander as a leader – she demands to be Augmented in direct response to seeing the seriously injured Dani in that neighboring infirmary bed, rather than for the sake of an abstract and offscreen Commander.

Now these Future War scenes all need a ton of VFX, and bespoke sets, props and wardrobe that can’t be bought off the rack or recycled anywhere else in the movie’s main present-day storyline, so they’re very expensive. Whatever else you might shoot as a just-in-case, you would not shoot more of this than you had to.

Given she’s bundled up on a stretcher, it would have been trivial to conceal the identity of the injured VIP completely – simply by not shooting her clearly, or covering her head. Natalia Reyes wouldn’t even need to be on set.

But she was - they went to the lengths of having her, having her face visible, putting her in injury makeup, and showing us Grace is uniquely, personally affected by her condition.

Which is... odd, right? A little contradictory?

4. The Train.

Quite a lot seems to be cut from this scene – we know of at least one line from the trailers, (“We win by keeping you alive”) that’s been cut, and one line Miller mentions in the commentary (Grace’s original retort to Sarah was “The only thing you and Mother Mary have in common is a dead son”), but it’s also been changed considerably since the Audition script that circulated early on.

I want to be really clear what we’re talking about here first though.

An Audition script, a “side”, is a very rough placeholder script that is used to test chemistry and emotion. The dialogue in a side will vary from rough to terrible, and sometimes the scene is deliberately misleading, as sides very often leak via the folks who don’t get the part – and indeed that’s presumably why we have this one.

But the general mood of the scene is the important thing. It is usually in the ballpark because that’s what you’re trying to be sure your actor can bring. The side is usually chosen because the particular emotional peak of this particular moment is the Director’s priority – so a side, however clumsy or misleading the dialogue is, represents something that matters so much for this character they’ll cast solely on the basis of it.

This side, which can be Google'd up pretty easily, was used to audition actresses for Dani. It sketches out a Grace who does not know, or claims not to know, Dani or what’s so important about her, and this scene is clearly a tentative bonding moment between them. Sarah doesn't even seem to be present.

In it, we see Dani show concern for Grace’s shoulder wound, before comparing it to a severe shoulder scar of her own that she shows Grace, from a bus crash in Puebla when she was fourteen, and here's an extract -

She touches [her own] scar, gently with her fingers.

DANI (CONT'D)

I'll never eat obleas again.

(Grace studies Dani as she traces the line of the scar with her finger.)

GRACE

You wanted to understand where I come from? You already do.

(Dani's eyes meet Grace's for a moment.)

DANI

My mother told me scars make the skin stronger.

Dani covers her scar with her shirt, then looks out again as the train slows, approaching Nogales.

I mean... if a movie showed you a heterosexual pair of characters doing this…?

But, we'll get to that in a subsequent post.

5. The Truck.

Here's the version of this we saw in the early trailers -

Source: Booasaur

Vs the version in the movie -

This scene, like the motel room, is an homage to a scene with Kyle Reese and Sarah Connor in T1. There are a lot of those.

6. The Crossing & The CBP Detention Centre.

There are a number of major cuts made to the sequence where the group cross the Mexico-US border, but chunks of the original version are visible in the trailers, and the deleted scene is provided in the home release.

Originally, for starters, the Rev 9 managed to track Dani to her uncle’s house, killing everyone there.

He goes on to manipulate the Mexican Federales into actively herding Dani & Co towards the CBP trap he’s set for them. Grace then spots the drone and realizes he’s tracking them, has them ditch their bags and tells them to run for it. She exchanges fire with the Federales in a running battle, and Dani’s uncle is killed.

You can see this full scene here. And actually now that I rewatch it, I'm struck by how effectively sinister Rev 9 is in the first bit, and what a shame that was to lose:  

Miller says the scene was cut down in part because whacking Dani’s relatives threatened to get a little repetitive, and he has a point (her cousin later also dies in the CBP centre), but there are some really valuable character moments in here too.

Before Grace starts shooting, Dani strictly warns Grace not to kill anybody. Which is a T2 callback, of course, but it’s also establishing Dani as taking the initiative, and it makes it apparent that Grace is already treating whatever she asks for as an order.

The gunfight itself isn’t great, frankly, but I do think the movie feels this cut. It cues up the scenes coming after it in a way that just leaves them kinda awkward without. The reason Grace is so fired up and ready to throw down with the CBP when they're caught in the spotlight is because, as far as she's concerned, she’s *already* in the middle of a gunfight; Dani’s “I’m not watching you die” to her is meant to directly address the fact she’s still feeling her uncle’s death, and can’t bear to see Grace get shot now too, rather than just something she blurts out randomly. She’s already seen somebody she cares about die, and she won’t risk it again.

But Dani’s grief at the death of her uncle would also have played into the next bit, too, something which is still in the movie - when Rev-9 drops the drone on them. Dani sees Grace easily break out of her restraints to save her from it, only to be KO’d by the blast.

In other words - having just surrendered to save Grace’s life, Dani has to see her being killed after all, and we see her looking at her lifeless body with a moment of despair. And after binding Grace with a No Kill order so that nobody else will die over her, she now sees that Grace has apparently sacrificed herself to save her.

This pays off – or would have paid off – in a deleted moment later, too. A shot seen in the trailers from when Grace finds Dani in the cages shows us Dani’s clear relief at seeing Grace is alive.

A subsequent cut shot has Grace and Dani fleeing the Rev-9, hand in hand, in slow motion.

Compare this to the much messier, more rushed sequence we see in the movie -

The Federales shootout sequence on its own is a little redundant, sure, but without this bit, the drone stuff is just... kind of orphaned, and pointless. It's a very dramatic splash of fireworks with little consequence. The shot of Dani looking at Grace's body after the blast has no purpose, and the attack has no real effect, so it might as well not have happened.

More than that, this set of cuts make for really messy continuity. There's a big mismatch between them hauling a bunch of presumably very useful gear through the desert one moment, and then abruptly having none a few shots later; and it feels silly to see everyone set out armed to the teeth with guns they never even try to use.

The way Dani’s uncle just dips out to let the cousin lead them the rest of the way in the theatrical cut feels bizarre, and the escape from the CBP centre feels tangibly choppy and not nearly as clearly composed without the moments seen in the trailer, like missing frames of animation.

7. The Plane Chase.

This whole sequence has been totally overhauled, and maybe several times.

The plane battle was originally longer (which I don’t think it really needed to be) but one notable feature is that Major Dean and the EMP grenades all appear to be later additions.

Many people had guessed this anyway - he comes out of nowhere, provides the grenades, and bows out again, without much explanation or grounding outside the few minutes he appears. And the (oddly cheap) looking grenades themselves are destroyed before ever affecting the plot. So it has all the hallmarks of a reshoot that was plugged into an existing sequence.

The original version of the sequence though, seen in the “pre vis” computer storyboard included on the home media releases, had the gang actually seize the plane by force, and physically subdue two crewmembers. The two end up tied up in the hold after one of them hits Arnie with a wrench (he still sports the injuries from this in the film)

When Rev 9 attacks, one of the crewmen is killed by cargo debris; Dani frantically tries to save the other, but he’s sucked out of the breach in the fuselage before she can.

That original version involving the kidnapped crew appears to have actually gotten as far as being filmed – two “injured” Air Force actors who seem to fit the bill are visible in some of the “Making Of” featurettes.

The prop auction blurbs – some notes from it here – seem to suggest Carl used chain brackets as weapons in the fight, which I don’t believe he does in the battle as seen.

Now why does this matter?

Well, because if there were no EMP grenades, then the conversation in the cockpit must have been completely different, since Carl and Sarah don’t have to interrupt Dani and Grace’s conversation to alert them to the damage.

The cockpit scene is a continuity mess start to finish anyway though, which is another a tell-tale sign of reshoots and re-edits - just for fun, for instance, watch out for Grace’s disappearing drink.

It’s worth watching it start to finish too just to see how much dialogue is delivered from a character who is speaking from offscreen, suggesting these lines were written and then recorded in a Sound Booth after the scenes were shot.

There’s a lot of that in this movie, which I’ve mentioned previously, but this scene in particular is rife with it; almost all its key dialogue is delivered from offscreen while we’re watching what amounts to stock footage of Sarah or Carl.

That much ADR/ overdubbing from off camera is a dead give away that a scene has been almost totally reworked.   

And why? Why did it need to be arranged so much?

Well, that brings us to what I think is the biggest change of the movie.

8. "You Saved Me" / "You Raised Me"

The suggestion Dani found and raised Grace from childhood is entirely a post-test screening addition. It was not in the original version of the movie, at all, and this has been confirmed by the Reddit test screening participants. The whole implication comes from a single line and scene which was added after the testing, and at the cost of all that continuity mentioned above.

The scene we see of Dani rescuing Kid-Grace is a reshoot which was inserted in place of another deleted scene, set during the Future War, wherein an adult Grace begs an adult Dani to let her go back and save her. That’s why the Kid-Grace scene has a different look and feel to everything else in the movie, Present Day and Future War, because it was shot way after everything else.

Before I go on, please take a moment to see the scene they cut, and imagine it back in place –

I mean... dang, right?

Unlike Major Dean or the grenades, this scene is not some neatly isolated little island, and unlike the one replacing it, it's aesthetically in tune with the South Tunnel battle. It depicts a post-Augmentation Grace, wearing “Augment” style sleeveless gear, and it’s the source of at least one promotional shot.

It also explains the circumstances Grace came back, lets Dani off the hook for sending her back to her doom, and even ties directly into a significant exchange of dialogue later on; Commander Dani is shown shedding a tear here when Grace asks to be allowed to save her, presumably because she remembers they will be some of Grace’s last words later, too.

The Theatrical Cut also still has the moment later when Grace quotes this scene to Dani’s younger self before she dies, so this scene is actually the foundation for a later one.

So it’s important, is what I'm saying, it’s laying down all the emotional groundwork for Grace’s death and the tragic implications of the movie’s Bootstrap Loop.

It makes the Commander far more sympathetic, gives Grace a ton more agency, and there are lines still in the movie which call back to it.

Without it, we even lose the visual parallel of Grace on her knees to Dani in the present day just as she is in her memory from the future, in the TDE facility.

For now then, let’s just say that I think you would need an excellent reason to pay more money to replace that original scene, especially with a scene that both looks cheaper, plays worse, and lacks the same connective tissue to anything else. And that this reason would have to be something unrelated to the needs of basic storytelling mechanics, or the Director’s preferences.

9. Underwater Battle.

Grace originally fought the Rev-9 underwater briefly, after the plane crash. That’s why she’s so exhausted when she resurfaces and they have to try to climb up the dam, and it’s why she couldn’t come to help the two others when they were trapped in the flooding Humvee.

10. Turbine Room.

Dani originally finished the battle with the Rev-9 pretty much on her own. This was reworked, apparently, to give Arnie “more of a moment”.

You can see images from the original version here.

Which I do believe - but the original flow would have meant Dani screaming at this thing that it’s taken everything she had, before going apeshit and killing it, in direct response to Grace’s death, which is pretty intense.

(Incidentally, I’m not convinced the subtitles are quite capturing her literal meaning in Spanish either, can somebody help me out?

Edit - BeneathTheThunders has confirmed this in the comments, Dani actually says "Killed everything I loved")

11. Final Scene

The playground scene with Grace as a kid is another post Test Screening addition. Originally the movie ended with a rolling road, just like T2, and a voiceover from Sarah.

Along with the added scavenger attack scene, that means it’s probable we never saw Grace as a child in the original version. At all.

Which would make for a quite different narrative bent, especially if the original Future Dani/Grace seen had still been in place.

In Summary.

Let’s consider how different that alternate narrative was.

Remember that Grace rarely, if ever, discusses Dani’s survival in terms of saving the world or winning the war, apart from her freakout in the chopper – her devotion is to Dani, personally, somebody we only ever see or hear of Grace knowing as one adult woman to another. Somebody she knows, somebody she sat vigil over in the Dragonfly and inspired her to become augmented.

Somebody, we hear only from an experienced, Augmented Grace who has saved her, with her exact meaning left to our imagination – when and how or how poetically she might mean that, we aren’t shown.

Remember that somebody, we see then, is a hardened uniformed military Supreme Commander, who nonetheless cries at the prospect of having to send Grace away to danger, something she’s tried “everything in her power” to avoid.

Remember that, back present day, that person’s first instinct when left alone with her unconscious body (after resting her head in her lap in the jeep for some reason?) is to care for her so tenderly it produced the mysteriously memory-holed First Aid Kit image. When reunited with her after being briefly parted, it’s apparently to embrace her.

While being pursued, it’s to designate her terms of engagement, and then surrender to protect her.

And notably, it is also Grace, not Commander Dani, who outlines what’s going to be done about the TDE in the flashback/forward to 2042.

So they don’t behave like either Mother/Daughter or Officer/Soldier. But they are something. And throughout the movie these two were, apparently, so physically close it was worth spending money and losing shot-to-shot continuity and clarity to put distance between them.

And in the end, when Grace does die, literally giving Dani her life with which to fight her attacker (“I’m sorry Grace!”), Dani tenderly touches her face before destroying her enemy, for taking everything she had from her - for "killing everything she loved".

I’m sure you can infer what I’m getting at there... but we’ll come back to that in a future post.

For now, here's what I'd love to know - the original cut apparently ended a little after the dam battle, with a Sarah voiceover on the rolling road.

I wonder what she said?

[tgrailwar-zero]

. . . I feel bad for Draco, a demon she might be but she is very pitiable. She sounds tired like she's given up on something.

This would normally be the point where CONSTANTINE would scold you for pitying her, but it seemed like he had a bit more on his mind now. The group continued onward down the northmost hallway, the torches growing a bit dimmer as you marched forward.

In other words- this hallway was dark, the only real sources of light coming from the vague, crystalline glow produced by KUKULKAN's hair.

After a few moments, PRETENDER held up a hand, gesturing for the group to stop.

PRETENDER: "Everyone, hold still. I just lost contact from one of my faeries. Not in a 'they got lost' sort of way, but in a 'they just got killed' sort of way."

Immediately, the glow from KUKULKAN went out as the rest of the group went silent.

You spotted a figure stepping into the room proper, their form wispy yet still vaguely defined in shadow. It didn't take much to recognize her as MUSASHI. One of your Servants.

One of your former Servants on 'Team Saber'- later 'Grail Force'... or whatever that group ended up being called.

'The Blade's Tomb'.

It seemed like rather than just the 'blade' that resided here, another blade- another Saber haunted these halls.

You didn't remember your relationship during the 'Origin War', but during the 'Preliminary War' she was one of the most optimistic Servants there.

She led the rally for the other Servants to join together to fight against VAN GOGH, and even helped deliver the final blow against the rogue RULER Terminal alongside MORDRED. And now she was reduced to… this. Just a shadow of her former self.

But even as a shadow, you knew that she was powerful, quick, and... remarkably hard to kill- as some of the Masters that presided on other 'Teams' would be well aware of.

It seemed like heading into the hidden room helped you avoid her on the initial path, but she stepped in just as the Servants entered the next hallway, your party obscured by the darkness. You could hear the sound of rattling swords, the constant air of anticipation before the strike.

The silence was broken slightly as you heard one of your Servants whisper.

KUKULKAN: "So, what's the plan? Hit fast and hard, yes? If we take them out now, we don't have to worry about later."

[authoralexharvey]

A Sharper, More Lasting Pain, a novel by @space-cadead

The Basics

GENRE - dark fantasy, dark academia, high fantasy

INSPIRATIONS - Bloodborne, Dungeons & Dragons, The Radium Girls, Sorcery of Thorns

POV - third-person limited (present tense), alternating POV

TAGS, THEMES, AND TROPES - (dark) academia, authority and its abuse of power, conspiracies, fighting fate, lgbtq, magic, manipulation, memory alteration, monsters, one-night stand to lovers, runic/sigil magic, the inevitability of death

CONTENT WARNINGS - body horror, chronic illness, drug use, mild kink, sex, terminal illness (ish), violence

STATUS - first draft, currently at 25k words

THE CHARACTERS

Simone Allard, a second-year Abjuror who loves getting to the heart of a matter. An over-achiever, they often work themself to the point of exhaustion to get the answer they seek.

Nadia DuPont, a third-year Diviner who is tired of this shit. Despite near-constant sickness, she considers herself the life of the party.

Etienne LaChance, a third-year Evocator and Nadia’s best friend. Around the time of her disappearance, a monster critically wounds him and leaves him for dead.

SUMMARY

After their girlfriend’s best friend is wounded in a monster attack, Simone Allard stumbles across a plot much deeper than they anticipated. As they work to find a cure to their own forming illness and find out the truth, two questions remains: where is Nadia, and how was she involved in all of this?

Nadia DuPont doesn’t know how much time she has or even what is ailing her, but it all gets more complex after meeting Simone on a field trip. As they both race to find a cure, Nadia's certain of one thing: Simone will be the source of her ruin.

LINKS

First Lines

Cover Reveal

Read it on Wattpad

TAGLIST (ASK TO BE ADDED)

@magic-is-something-we-create , @wildswrites , @chishiio @westcountrygothic @writeblrsupport @original-writing

[timeladyjamie]

The Doctor and Master’s relationship explained in a nutshell

MacQueen!Master: You’re really sanguine, Doctor, given the terminal nature of our predicament.

Eighth Doctor: We’re stuck. In here. Together. Frankly, if I’m going to die on an exploding spaceship, I can’t think of anybody else I’d rather have die with me. 

MacQueen!Master: You’re willing to sacrifice your life?! What...to get rid of me?!

Eighth Doctor: With you gone, my friends and the fate of the universe are safe. The Time Lords can clear up the mess. Besides, I’m enjoying watching you squirm. How should we pass the time? *Pause* Oh, I know...tell me about your mother!

MacQueen!Master: *annoyed sigh* Oh...you’ve tried psychoanalyzing me before, Doctor! Why bother? How can you fathom the unfathomable? 

Eighth Doctor: On the contrary, you’re actually pretty transparent. You’re a spoiled child. You have to get what you want, or even else suffers. Trouble is...you don’t know what you want, beyond killing me. What are you Master of, precisely? 

MacQueen!Master: The title you chose...’Doctor’, it’s not just a man of healing, it means teaching. It means tutor. Whereas I am a ‘Master.’ We both want to change the universe to make it better. It’s only the scale of our ambition that separates us. 

Eighth Doctor: What are you saying? You’d like to have been a Doctor, but you didn’t have the patience?

MacQueen!Master: *exasperated, mocking laugh* Oh...how have I resisted killing you until now? 

Eighth Doctor: You tell me. You’d rather see me humiliated. Actually, the simple answer is; you don’t want to. You NEED me around to give you the attention you so desperately crave! Ever since we were at the Academy together all those centuries ago...

MacQueen!Master: Oh, I never think of the past. The future is my sole concern. I thought you were the same! Never look back...only in your case its because you’re afraid to face the death and destruction you leave in your wake.

Eighth Doctor: Whereas, you delight in it.

MacQueen!Master: What was it that prompted this...little adventure? Hmm? It’s not like you to try transgress the Laws of Time so blatantly. So much as you love to relegate the Time Lords, you obey their rules. *yawn* Not so different to the Academy,  I suppose. It’s easy to play the rebel when you’re teachers pet!

Eighth Doctor: Jealously...is that what this interminable vendetta is down to?! Because Borusa didn’t give you enough gold stars? 

MacQueen!Master: You are evading the question, Doctor? Why break the rules? Why such a radical departure? 

Eighth Doctor: Sometimes, the best way to fight a fire is to make sure it doesn’t get started. I’m taking away your matches!

(Source: Dark Eyes 3: Masterplan)

[eldritchazure]

On episode 3 of Dominionweek: Self-Discovery!! Lizaan 3 discovers himself and hates it.

•••

“Lizaan?”

Lizaan’s brow furrowed slightly in confusion as he turned towards the source of the unfamiliar voice calling his name. He was met with an older woman who had greying black hair. Lizaan guessed by her dark eyes that she was Betazoid. The Founder he served, Overseer, had told him that there would be Federation representatives at this diplomatic meeting, but it was still a surprise. He hadn’t seen a member of a Federation species since the Dominion War, a lifetime ago. This woman must’ve been one of the Federation ambassadors. Her expression was stricken.

Lizaan wondered what was wrong with her as he politely replied, “Yes? How may I help you?”

The woman ignored his question. “Lizaan? Is that really you? I thought they’d for sure have…” she trailed off, seemingly unable to finish the sentence. “If I had known you were alive, I’d have tried to rescue you.” She looked so, so sad at the sight of him, yet also hopeful, and he hadn’t the foggiest clue as to why.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but do I know you?” he asked as gently as he could.

Now the strange woman seemed shocked. “Lizaan, it’s me. It’s Kexera. Don’t you remember?”

Lizaan frowned, trying to recall that name, but his memory came up blank. There was nothing.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I don’t remember you. Perhaps you could explain where you know me from?” he suggested helpfully. After all, there weren’t many places a Federation citizen could know a Vorta from these days.

The woman, Kexera, looked perplexed. “We met on Betazed, during the Dominion War. We were good friends. Don’t you remember?” Her expression morphed into a fierce glare as her tone turned accusatory. “What did they do to you? Why don’t you remember?”

“Oh, that wasn’t me,” he explained easily, his tone placating as he attempted to diffuse Kexera’s sudden fury. “That was my previous iteration, Lizaan 2. I am his successor, Lizaan 3.”

Kexera’s expression turned haunted. “…What happened to Lizaan 2?” she asked quietly, almost timidly. It struck Lizaan as out of character for the obviously fiery woman. She seemed almost afraid of his answer.

He debated telling the truth, before deciding that answering truthfully wasn’t a security risk as long as he didn’t give away any real details. It’s not as if he knew any real details.

“Lizaan 2 was terminated for crimes against the Dominion,” Lizaan answered matter-of-factly.

Kexera’s expression turned carefully neutral. She almost seemed to steel herself before speaking again. “But I thought Vorta retained the memories of their predecessors. So why don’t you remember me?”

Lizaan averted his gaze, his expression no doubt giving away his immense shame. “Lizaan 2’s crimes were deemed so heinous that his predecessor had to be cleansed of their memory, so that they could no longer corrupt the line.”

Kexera’s indifferent facade cracked and raw heartbreak shone through. Whatever hope had glimmered in her eyes was smothered.

“So it wasn’t enough to just murder him, they had to kill his memory, too,” she murmured bitterly, seeming to be talking to herself. Lizaan wondered at her evident care for his predecessor, before the pieces began to fall into place. She seemed to know of Lizaan 2’s fate before he told her. She seemed to know what happened.

He knew he shouldn’t ask. The memories had been removed for a reason. They had been excised because they were cancerous and couldn’t be allowed to spread to the next Lizaan. But he had to know. He had to know what he had done. He had to know if filling in the gaps in his memory would finally allow him to atone for his unknown crime. He had to see if that would finally bring him peace.

“Wait,” he started, slowly, lowering his voice so the surrounding delegates wouldn’t hear. “You knew Lizaan 2. Do you- do you know what he did? Could- could you… tell me?”

Kexera looked at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. He didn’t know what she was looking for, but she seemed to have found it because she nodded ever so slightly. “It’s not safe here,” she stated quietly. “Meet me in the gender-neutral bathrooms in the eastern wing in ten minutes. I’ll tell you what happened to him then.”

They parted ways after that. Lizaan went back to mingling and smiling at the other delegates. Most of them seemed skittish around the Dominion representatives, to say the least. It was understandable, if rather unfortunate. Lizaan hoped that one day these people would come to understand the blessing that was the Founders’ Sacred Order.

After nine minutes were up, Lizaan politely excused himself and headed towards the bathrooms.

When he arrived, Kexera was already there. She was washing her hands in the sink and didn’t look up at him. He walked right past her without glancing her way and locked himself into a stall. He pulled a small, easily-concealed tricorder from the folds of his shirt to scan for any bugs within the room. Once he was sure there were none, he came out of the stall.

Making eye contact with Kexera in the large mirror, he asked in an even tone, “What did my predecessor do?”

And Kexera told him.

As she spoke, Lizaan watched his expression in the mirror grow more and more horrified. Kexera told him of a rebel sympathizer who allowed himself to be charmed by Kexera into betraying the Dominion and aiding the enemy by feeding information to Starfleet Intelligence.

Lizaan was beyond disgusted with himself. How could he have done this? He could hardly believe it. Lizaan 2 sounded like a stranger. Lizaan felt sick. The bathroom seemed to be getting smaller and smaller. He could hardly breathe. He had to get out.

Lizaan turned on his heel and nearly ran for the door, ignoring Kexera’s grief-stricken expression in the mirror. The worst part was, he couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry with her. It wasn’t her fault he’d been so weak, so degenerate, so corrupt. He had only himself to blame. He knew better. He should’ve been better. He had no idea how he could even begin to be able to fix this. He didn’t know how he could ever be worthy of Overseer’s mercy.

The thought of Overseer brought a bit of clarity to Lizaan’s racing thoughts. He had to get a hold of himself. He focused on taking long, shaking breaths in through his nose and then out through his mouth.

He had to report this to Overseer. Keeping his horrible newfound knowledge that he wasn’t supposed to have a secret wouldn’t end well, and certainly wouldn’t further his goal of atonement. He didn’t know what they would think of this, and it certainly wasn’t his place to speculate. He didn’t know if they’d even care. But he knew that if he kept this information a secret, it would eat him alive.

Plus, Kexera had said that Lizaan 2 had never given up his accomplices. Even if the war was long over and it didn’t really matter anymore, perhaps being able to give Overseer one name could be a step towards forgiveness and proving that he could be trusted again. But given the enormity of his transgressions, he doubted it. When he had wondered what Lizaan 2 possibly could have done, he never, in one hundred years, would’ve imagined anything as physically sickening as betraying the Founder he served. And for what? The friendship of some random Betazoid, the enemy? Lizaan wondered bitterly if it had been worth it to Lizaan 2.

[streaminn]

You know what else reminds me of your Bodyguard AU

Grace & Dani Ramos from Terminator: Dark Fate

You could really see the height difference. And the theme of tall buff blonde protecting the smol latina

https://www.tumblr.com/profoundlyexceeded/725038691213606912/parasiteeves-mackenzie-davis-in-terminator-dark?source=share

Also Mackenzie Davies looking really good and badass is in this movie is just 👌👌

She does look bad ass!! Holy shit she looks rad asf

[ariveth]

Farkas watched with bated breath as Ariveth turned over the dagger in her grasp. Shaped in the heat of the Skyforge, it had been crafted by his own hands. Its handle and hilt were modest in their design, its beauty showcased its the blade. Formed of crucible steel, the surface was adorned with a tapestry of intricate, rippled patterns. Swirling and cascading, silver and shadow flowed and melded together. Water-kissed, Farkas had heard it described.

Beautiful, practical, protective. Something that would help keep Ariveth safe.

Boyish in his excitement, in his unguarded adoration, he presented her with another gift. A rosewood box, clasped shut, was pushed into her hands. Inside, a torc. Not the torc, but a fine piece of purchased craftsmanship. Wrought from bronze, its terminals were trimmed with mother of pearl. Soft whispers of pale ivory interlaced with hints of blush and ribbons of blue-green. A shimmery and celestial palette – like moonlight made corporeal – it was sure to complement the Dunmer’s dusky colouring.

“I… hope you like it.”

LIKE SILVER HELD BENEATH THE WATER'S SURFACE. She can't stop flipping it over and over in her hands to admire it, her eyes bright with seemingly unending enthusiasm; finding a new little detail on the blade each time. "I love it, I love it. Gods, it's magnificent. I can't believe you made this yourself, it's... oh, you shouldn't have! It must've taken so much time. I don't know if I could even bear to get it dirty!" She'd barely finished babbling about how pretty and intricate and well-crafted it was, already imagining which she'd pair it with and how she'd only save it for important contracts — special occasions, naturally — when Farkas stops her short with the appearance of another item.

Ariveth blinks wide-eyed and wordlessly at the box, taking it as if in slow-motion and looking up at him curiously. "Not a second gift, surely!" It can't be anything else, and she feels almost ( almost ) self-conscious at being the recipient of such generosity. Her nameday is something she's oft forgotten herself, as frequently as it comes and goes like any other day. Having it treated with any significance let alone being gifted feels unusual, but the excitement triumphs and exceedingly so. She pops it in her lap with a brilliant grin and quickly opens it, brimming with curiosity.

First she gasps, then she giggles, and finally she sighs and swoons upon picking up the item. Her amusement hails from the reminder of their fateful first encounter, yet it's equally as sentimental in that same purpose; and Ariveth glances at Farkas with an impossibly tender smile before returning to her admiration of the piece. Her eyes practically twinkle at the shifting colour, the glimmer of it when reflected in the light. "Farkas, this is beautiful. Where'd you get this?" It's such a thoughtful gift. He could've simply stopped by Fralia's stall and picked any random shiny trinket he'd wanted and she'd have appreciated it. But something like this couldn't have been easy to source, and to realise how he'd made a point to find something meaningful to her, something that would complement her, and something he knew she'd like and wear... she's not the type to get sappy, but it does tug firmly at something in her chest and set warmth behind her eyes.

Ariveth is careful when she pries open the gap of the torc to slide around her neck, pulling it taut once more and looking down at it where it rests upon her collarbone. She beams contently, pleased gaze finding Farkas' before she moves to climb into his lap with her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, claiming his mouth in a deep, lingering kiss. Every bit of appreciation and adoration is poured into it, for everything she knows she doesn't deserve that he's given her regardless — she almost wants to scold him for it. Instead, she buries her fingers deeper into his dark hair, releasing their liplock only to pepper his lips with soft kisses.

"I more than like it," she murmurs, touching his handsome cheek with a fond little sigh. "I love it. I'll cherish both forever, just as I cherish you."

[bakudeku-recommendations]

BKDK Childhood Friends Recommendations

Part 2 Part 3

Note: These are all random and range from cute kids to murdering duo. These also contain smut, dark themes, and some creepy/disturbing things, so read at you own risk and check tags and all that. Part two and three will be out when I can link everything. Have fun reading!

1. With Petals We Speak

By: bicheetopuff

Summary: Or; BNHA but from the perspective of Katsuki and Izuku's relationship. Basically the author is just filling in blanks in the source material with brain rot and making bkdk act more like childhood friends.

Major Tags: character study, PTSD, nightmares, canon compliment

2. Prove

By:Roya1Gir1

Summary: The nerd and him switched fucking body.

Major Tags: body switching, abuse, trans Midorya, hurt Midoriya, hurt/comfort

3. Torn Times

By:NorthernProjection

Summary: “It’s just…everyone in class says you two are childhood friends y’know, but well...Is that really the case? I don’t know it all just kind of seems like an overstatement..."

Major Tags: flashbacks, friends to lovers, slow burn

4. kissing boo-boo's

By: elfinfair 

Summary: 5 times Katsuki needs an excuse to kiss Izuku and the 1 time he doesn't but Izuku gives him an excuse, however flimsy, anyways

Major Tags: cute, 5+1 things, first kiss

5. Pacify Him

By:  zeldaharkinian

Summary: Izuku has an oral fixation that he just can't seem to break, but he's thankful his friend is there to support him.

Main Tags: anxious Midorya, bad friend Bakugou, sexual themes not meant to be sexual(?)

6. You're Married?

By: Suitable_Pseudonym

Summary: Two kids who have no concept of what marriage really means. Katsuki and Izuku meet in very different circumstances. Basically, all my favorite tropes rolled into one

Major Tags: homeless bkdk, dadzawa, abuse

7. cause the hardest part of this (is leaving you)

By: depressioncafe

Summary: Quirkless people are more susceptible to developing terminal illnesses. Izuku, despite having One for all, is still biologically quirkless. Can a diagnosis change the tides of fate?

Major Tags: angst with a happy ending, 'I hurt the cinnamon roll', Midoryia has cancer

8. Hidden Messages

By:hashbrownpotatoes

Summary: For years Katsuki Bakugou has been Izuku Midoriya's bully, and just about everyone knew it. Except that wasn't actually the case at all. Through a secret language they were able to fool the world into thinking that they weren't actually best friends. So when midway through their first year at UA when they were given an assignment that required secretive communication, they knew that they were guaranteed an A. However, they weren't prepared for the chaos that it would bring or the relationship that would result from it.

Major Tags: getting together, nonverbal communication, secret relationship

9. Childhood sweethearts

By: QueenAnastacia

Summary: Izuku and Katsuki are trying to work things out and in the process they figure out they are in love with eachother.

Major Tags: one-shots, slow burn, friends to lovers

10. Unknown yet wanted

By: Mrs_Galaxy_M

Summary: Every time izuku gets into his rut he looks sick, he cant stand being in a rut, what he feels and thinks in it, he hates waking up to seeing himself. He hates being an alpha. "What if I bitch you?" Said bakugou, his childhood friend, colleague, a FRIEND.

Major Tags: Omega Verse, Alpha Bakugou, Omega Izuku, Mating/heat cycles