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Transcript Lingthusiasm Episode 53: Listen to the imperatives episode!

This is a transcript for Lingthusiasm Episode 53: Listen to the imperatives episode! It’s been lightly edited for readability. Listen to the episode here or wherever you get your podcasts. Links to studies mentioned and further reading can be found on the Episode 53 show notes page.

[Music]

Lauren: Welcome to Lingthusiasm, a podcast that’s enthusiastic about linguistics! I’m Lauren Gawne.

Gretchen: I’m Gretchen McCulloch. Today, we’re getting enthusiastic about imperatives. But first, we’re going to do a Lingthusiasm liveshow – a virtual liveshow in late April brought to you on an internet near you for everybody who’s a patron of Lingthusiasm, which there is still time to become. Keep an eye out in late April 2021. We’ll be announcing the dates on social media and the website a little bit closer to the time.

Lauren: This liveshow is our current Patreon goal. All tickets will be for patrons. That is available at lingthusiasm.com/patreon. If you’re listening to this in the future from beyond April 2021, patrons will also be able to listen to the recording of that liveshow event as a bonus episode – along with over 50 other bonus episodes.

Gretchen: The Lingthusiasm liveshow is also part of LingFest, which is a bunch of other fun linguistics events that are happening in late April. Stay tuned to our website for more information about that. Also, in late April, we’re doing a virtual conference for linguistics communicators called “LingComm.” That’s people who make linguistics communication materials online – modelled after SciComm for science communicators. This is gonna be happening online. You can find more details about LingComm on the website lingcomm.org. That’s “comm” with two Ms.

Lauren: Our most recent Patreon bonus episode was an Ask Us Anything episode in celebration of our 100th overall episode. It is our 48th bonus and, along with our over 50 main episodes, it means there is twice as much Lingthusiasm. If you’ve worked your way through all the main episodes, they are all available at lingthusiasm.com/patreon.

Gretchen: Thanks for asking us such great questions on the Lingthusiasm patron Discord. Go hang out in the Discord if you haven’t yet. It’s fun!

[Music]

Gretchen: Start the episode!

Lauren: Go on!

Gretchen: Be interesting!

Lauren: Do linguistics!

Gretchen: Stay lingthusiastic!

Lauren: All of these sentences are giving some kind of command.

Gretchen: These are all what’s known grammatically as “imperatives.” They have the function of giving commands, but they also have the imperative, which is this particular grammatical thing where, in English, an imperative may begin with the bare form of the verb – like “start” and “go” and “be” and “do” and “stay.” That’s a particular grammatical concept that we wanna talk about today.

Lauren: The function of giving a command means that now, Gretchen, I expect you for the next half hour to be very interesting and very linguistic – if you’re going to obey the command that’s been given.

Gretchen: No, I was telling you to be interesting, Lauren.

Lauren: Oh, okay. Well, now we’re in trouble. It is possible to do things that have the function of giving some kind of command that’s not an imperative – that doesn’t have the grammar of an imperative structure. So, “I order you to be interesting,” is not actually an imperative.

Gretchen: It is a command, but it is not an imperative. Sometimes, you have this – I wanna say – this very imperial Ancient Rome – [imitates imposing voice] the Imperator or the Emperor is saying, “Take this man away,” is sort of a command thing. But you can also use imperatives – the form of the imperative – to do things that are very polite. You can say something like, “Come in,” “Sit down,” “Make yourself at home!” All of these are also imperatives, but they’re polite imperatives.

Lauren: I hope that people don’t think we’re being imperious when we use the imperative to tell them to “Stay lingthusiastic” at the end of an episode.

Gretchen: Secretly, this episode, we’ve been building up to it since the very first one.

Lauren: “Emperor” and “imperative” are related etymologically, I assume.

Gretchen: Yeah. The “emperor” is somebody who has the authority to give commands, and it’s definitely the core function of the imperative is that commanding function. But when I think of imperatives, I think about a young adult novel that came out in 1997 called, Ella Enchanted.

Lauren: Did this also become, I remember, a movie?

Gretchen: No, don’t talk to me about the movie. The movie is bad.

Lauren: Okay. Well, I haven’t seen the film, so that’s fine. We can just talk about the book, which I also have not read. Enlighten us about Ella Enchanted.

Gretchen: Ella Enchanted is one of those fairy tale retellings. In this particular context, the main character has a blessing/curse put on her by a fairy at her birth where she has to be obedient.

Lauren: Is this one of those blessings that inadvertently become a curse?

Gretchen: Yeah. The fairy’s like, “I’m gonna give you this blessing. Ella will always be obedient. Now, stop crying, child!” And the baby has to stop crying because she’s been given this command to stop crying.

Lauren: Very useful.

Gretchen: I mean, like, who amongst us could not find this useful? Unfortunately, she grows up, and if people give her a command even inadvertently, she has to obey it. What’s interesting from a grammatical perspective – and I feel like why I always felt like I had a very solid grasp of what an imperative is – is because she only has to obey things when they’re imperative commands and not when they’re more indirect commands. If somebody says, “Stand up,” “Sit down,” she has to do it. But if someone says, “I wish you would stand up,” or “Why don’t you sit down,” she doesn’t have to do it at that point.

Lauren: Oh my gosh, she’s a walking grammaticality test. She’ll tell you if something’s grammatically an imperative. This is fabulous.

Gretchen: Right?

Lauren: It would be amazing to have someone like this while you’re trying to figure out the grammar of an imperative.

Gretchen: Well, because then you could try it in different languages. Every time I see a stop sign, I’m like, “Ella would just be stuck here. She’d just be stuck here until someone told her to go again.”

Lauren: I assume it’s a pre-technology world because –

Gretchen: It’s like a fairy tale world with horses and stuff. She didn’t have any stop signs.

Lauren: Thank goodness she doesn’t live on the internet because the amount of, like, “Subscribe,” “Click here” – you would be ruined.

Gretchen: Right? Every time she got told to “Like and subscribe,” she’d have to do it. It’s a fairy tale world, so she only has the usual problems with imperatives. But it really – if you ever want a book to just tell you which things are imperatives for 286 pages of a charming young adult fantasy novel, I would recommend it.

Lauren: I feel like if you have very small children in your life, you’re also quite sensitive to imperatives and using them. There’s a lot of having to be very direct at children. Even if you have a habit of maybe doing things more politely and indirectly while talking to adults, you just have to tell children to do and to not do things quite a lot. If you have small children or maybe cheeky pets in your life –

Gretchen: [Laughs] Pets. “No, get off that! Don’t run into traffic!”

Lauren: “Sit.” Perfectly efficient.

Gretchen: “Sit!” “Stay!” “Eat your breakfast!”

Lauren: Yeah, I was gonna say I can’t tell if you’re giving that example to a child or to a pet but, honestly, pretty much the same.

Gretchen: Does it matter?

Lauren: If you have small people in your life, you’re probably quite sensitive to imperatives.

Gretchen: Meanwhile, I’m just sitting here with my tomato plants being like, “Grow! Grow!” That’s one of the things that’s really interesting about a part in Ella Enchanted. At one point she gets a letter from her father, and then she’s like, “Wait, I gonna make this other person read it and summarize it to me” because if there are commands in it then she could summarize what they are in ways that aren’t actually commands. In another context, she’s interacting with a character who she doesn’t really like but because that character is only saying, “I wish you would do this,” or “Why can’t you stop doing that,” she doesn’t actually have to obey that person because that character is still trying to be polite. Imperatives have this interesting interaction with politeness and with how we relate to each other as people – who is it okay to give a direct imperative to, and what level of politeness does that have?

Lauren: It seems like giving direct imperatives to kids is something that occurs across a lot of different cultures. We don’t have the data to say with confidence that it happens across all languages. In some languages, it’s weirder to give direct imperatives to people who you’re not familiar with. Maybe if you’re more familiar with someone – you might give more direct imperatives to someone you live with and spend a lot of time with. It really can vary across cultures and across individual contexts. One particular example I like is Sara Ciesielski’s work on the acquisition of Sherpa by children. Sherpa is a Tibeto-Burman language. It’s in the same family of languages I work with. In Sara’s work – there’s a great three-minute thesis video summarizing it – what she found was that parents give a particular type of direct imperative to small children. As the children grow older, they give those imperatives less. Children stop doing particularly foolhardy things, and they start to become more socialized into behaving in a socially appropriate way. In her data she found that, as those children got older, they were given fewer imperatives, but if they were talking to younger children, they would give them in the way that the adults do. You could see them getting socialized into this process of, “If I’m talking to someone younger than me, and someone who’s very young, I have to give them lots of direct imperative commands.”

Gretchen: I feel like I remember something about children learning a lot of imperatives very early in Mayan languages as well. I’m not sure. Now, I’m trying to find the paper. Of course, I can’t find it again. But I remember reading a paper in grad school about Mayan children learning a lot of imperatives. I think it was Ki’che’, maybe, or some combination of Ki’che’, Yucatec, and possibly Mam. These are languages that do a fair number of things with the verbs, but the imperatives tend to be morphologically very short and very simple and not have a lot of prefixes and suffixes. They also make really good words for children to start learning more complicated verbal structures with.

Lauren: Right. So, they learn these structures, but they also learn who it’s socially appropriate to use them with. I mean, it’s one of those things – I have no real depth of knowledge about child language acquisition – but I’m always amazed by like, children are given so many imperatives, but they still manage to use verbs and acquire verbs in all their other forms even though, for some cases – and I know in Sara’s work – the number of verbs in the imperative form that children are exposed to is multiple times more than some other grammatical structures. But they manage to all grow up using more than just imperative forms of verbs.

Gretchen: Well, and kids also overhear speech of adults between each other even if they’re not addressed like that themselves.

Lauren: Absolutely.

Gretchen: You have a variety of things that you’re exposed to. But yeah, the imperative is this interesting – it’s like how linguists often observe that words that are for close family members have certain sounds that tend to be cross-linguistically easier. You know, “Mama,” “Baba,” “Dada,” “Nana,” “Tata,” “Papa.” There’s a small set of syllables that are pretty easy for kids. Often, the names for close family members are from some subset of those syllables. They’re not necessarily exactly the same from language to language, but they’re a bit more similar than you’d expect coincidentally. I think that imperatives often being a little bit easier, a little bit shorter, having a little bit less-complex verbal morphology on them – I don’t know if someone has done that official typological study, but it seems like there’s a general trend in that direction.

Lauren: Which you’d need when someone is dangerously going in the wrong direction and you need to tell them to stop, or someone is just being a little bit too hectic and you need to tell them to sit.

Gretchen: You can imagine early humans – like a kid putting their hand into fire or something – and you have to be like, “No, stop!” Kids can try to do very dangerous things in lots of contexts. It’s useful to have language that’s accessible to tell them how to not do that.

Lauren: Those short forms, we often talk about them as being bare because they don’t have any extra morphemes that we stick on. Some languages do have a specific grammatical suffix that they’ll stick on for an imperative. In Yolmo and other Tibetan languages, the politer form of the imperative has the suffix “-tong” or “-dong.” There are some that just are bare if you’re being very direct at someone.

Gretchen: English for the most part has a bare imperative as well. You have, “Sit,” “Stand,” and it’s not like “sitting,” or “stance,” or “walked,” which would be adding some sort of morpheme on there. I guess, in principle, you could add a prefix on there. I’m not aware of a language that does, but there probably is one somewhere.

Lauren: It’s always dangerous to say languages don’t do something because they’ll be some awesome language somewhere that does the thing.

Gretchen: There’s probably some somewhere that do a prefix. I wouldn’t put money on that not happening. Often imperatives are a bit on the short side, especially ones that are informal or singular – like the kinds you would use with a child – compared to polite imperatives. Oh, you could put lots of morphology on to be polite.

Lauren: There’s the suffix in Yolmo, and then there’s a whole different form if you’re being very polite in the honorific register. We’ve talked about honorifics in a bonus episode before, and I’ve talked about that vocabulary there. Again, that’s that thing about giving a command is not necessarily impolite, you just have to use the correct honorific verb form to be polite when you’re asking a visiting guru to come with you or to please sit down. There’s a way to do that politely.

Gretchen: I first, I think, encountered “imperative,” at least as a term, when I was studying Latin. They have a singular and a plural imperative, so if you’re giving a command to one person or if you’ve giving a command to multiple people, which many languages do something like this. The singular imperative is just the bare root of the verb with the theme vowel. You have something like, “Veni,” which means, “Come,” singular, and then “Venite,” is “Come,” plural, “All of you come.”

Lauren: Good for specific command giving.

Gretchen: Yeah. There’s this extra morpheme on the plural form, but the singular one, which is your “Am I giving this command to a child,” is the very simple form.

Lauren: I did say Yolmo had that suffix, but there are a couple of verbs where, instead of using a suffix for the regular, everyday imperative, there’s just a completely different word. The most common one is – Yolmo has the word, “sa,” for “eat.” If it was just a regular imperative based on the model of almost every other verb, it would be, “Sadong.” But for this verb specifically, you have a completely different form of the word. You just say, “So.”

Gretchen: And there’s no “-dong” at all?

Lauren: There’s no “-dong” at all there. There’s no suffix there. It’s just a very short form. It’s a word I heard a lot – people asking me to eat as a guest. It’s one I’m very familiar with.

Gretchen: This actually happens in a variety of contexts where you’d expect one specific thing with the prefixes and suffixes, and then you get a different form of the root entirely. In French, for example, most of the imperatives do a very similar thing. You have, “parler,” is “to talk,” and “parler” is also the imperative and the plural imperative. But then for a few words – and one of them is “be” – you have “je suis/tu es,” so “you are” – “es.” But the imperative, like “Be quiet,” which you would say to a child perhaps, is “sois” – “Sois tranquille.” Literally, “Be tranquil,” I guess, but it’s used for “Be quiet.” Or “soyez” if it’s plural. Like, “Children, soyez tranquille,” like, “All of you be quiet.” English actually also kind of does this.

Lauren: Right.

Gretchen: This is the one maybe true imperative that you can test like, “Is this verb being imperative right now?”

Lauren: You told me this the other day, and I was wracking my brain for ages trying to think about something where it changes completely in English.

Gretchen: Have you figured it out yet?

Lauren: I’ve not figured it out, but now you’ve given me that example, I be it’s something to do with the “is/be” copula. That verb is a mess in English.

Gretchen: Yeah, it is “be.” “Be” is just one of those really neat verbs because it’s historically three different verbs all with their different forms glommed onto each other. Like, the “is/are” one, and you have the “wesan” with “was” and “were,” and then they also have “be” and “being” and “been.” Those are all from three different roots that get glommed together to make one mega verb.

Lauren: Yay, language!

Gretchen: Yay, language! This is a process that actually happens fairly often in languages just for a small handful of very, very common words. So, “be,” or “have,” or maybe something like “eat” – very, very common words. Sometimes they get really irregular or they get made out of combinations of several different verbs. Because they’re so common, people can just remember this, whereas if it’s really rare verb that maybe you don’t encounter until you’re a bit older or you don’t encounter very often, it’d be hard to remember like, “Oh, this verb has completely different letters in it.”

Lauren: It would be very weird for English to have a completely different form of the word “to crochet” for an imperative because most people don’t talk about crocheting a lot, and if you do, you rarely tell people that they have to as a command. When you have this pattern that fits for every verb except maybe one or two for the imperative or for other things as well. English is great with this kind of thing in tense when you have, “I go/I went.” “Went” is absolutely a completely different word to “go,” but we use it in the past. This happens often enough in English that when we have these forms that don’t fit the pattern, we call it a “suppletive” form.

Gretchen: Sometimes the imperative is where a suppletive shows up. Sometimes it’s also a past or something else you could do with things. Sometimes you can have a suppletive imperative, which kind of defies the point about maybe them being easy for children to learn, but they are super common.

Lauren: You tend to hear suppletive forms with lots of frequency. That’s how they manage to stick around.

Gretchen: Sometimes you also get a negative imperative.

Lauren: Yes. As with the fact that some languages use particular morphemes and some languages don’t use any morphemes, which is a nice throwback to our zero morphemes in the “Nothing Means Something” episode, if you remember that sometimes the absence of something is still functional, there’s a whole range of different ways that negating can interact with imperatives. But the thing that I find most charming about the relationship between negating and imperatives is that a negative imperative, as a category, can sometimes be called a “prohibitive,” which is just one of those, “I get that. That does exactly what that label says.”

Gretchen: Yes, the “imperative” is you command someone to do something. The “prohibitive” is you prohibit them from doing something, which makes sense. I have definitely just encountered the terminology “negative imperative.” I hadn’t encountered “prohibitive.” I think maybe a little bit of the literature, or until you mentioned it, I was like, “Oh, I guess you could call it that. I dunno if I would though.”

Lauren: I think it’s the kind of thing where if your language does something interesting around negative imperatives, you’re more likely to come up with the name “prohibitive,” whereas, for example, in Yolmo, you don’t use that imperative suffix with the negative. You just use the negative and the verb. Because it acts a bit differently to the imperative, I’m more likely to think of it as a prohibitive because it’s a slightly different structure. I think this comes back to a larger conversation about whether you lump certain phenomena together because they’re all similar enough in the languages that you encounter or if you split them up because they behave very differently.

Gretchen: I think I’m maybe more of a lumper than a splitter, but it depends a lot on the context because what sort of thing you’re exposed to can lead you more into lumper-ish or splitter-ish directions for particular things. Some languages just throw in a negator. Some languages, the negative bit for imperatives is a different negative morpheme than the negative morpheme in other contexts. Some languages you use a different form of the verb. When I was learning a lot of romance languages, the thing that always used to really just kind of grind my gears and show my lumper-ish tendencies was they’d be like, “Okay, here are all the different ways of doing the imperative,” and there’d be two that would correspond to the Latin one of the singular and the plural one, and then there’d be the polite one, and there’d be the ”we” form for like, “Let’s this,” and there’d be the negative ones. Those would all be borrowed from the subjunctive.

Lauren: Which is an entirely different category with an entirely different set of functions but kind of borrowable.

Gretchen: We’re not gonna get into the subjunctive right now because the subjunctive is a whole other episode someday. But I’d be like, “These forms are not some weird, surprising thing that you actually have to memorize 17 different things.” What it is is, “Look over here in this table on Page 56 and just borrow the ones from the table on Page 56.” You only have to memorize one bit of information, which is the “Go to Page 56 for this form.” You don’t have to just suddenly memorize this whole other table as if it’s some sort of surprising thing that’s unconnected. It’s really just borrowing from a different part of the paradigm.

Lauren: Yeah, sometimes imperatives do share features or functions with other categories, which is a thing that crops up a lot in different categories of grammar. It’s part of the fun of human languages and how they evolve in different directions and borrow things from themselves and copy across from different parts.

Gretchen: It’s interesting to think, “Okay, what was the historical version of this?” What was the version of this language early on when they were like, “Oh, we don’t quite have an imperative for this particular context – where else can we get something from the set of verbs that we do have or something from the set of things we’re used to doing with verbs?”

Lauren: Another thing that makes imperatives particularly interesting to try and elicit from someone if you’re doing elicitation to figure out the grammar of a language as a linguist or if you just want to learn a language through politely interrogating native speakers is that it’s actually really difficult to ask someone to tell you how – that they should tell you to do something. It’s a socially complicated little situation.

Gretchen: Because if you say something like, “Tell me that I should sit down,” they’d be like, “Okay, you should sit down.” And you’re like, “No, wait! That’s not imperative. That’s a different statement.”

Lauren: Asking someone to tell you to do something directly, when they clearly don’t actually want you to eat, so it feels weird and unnatural to be like, “Eat!”

Gretchen: And some people find it more fun to join that play space about language like, “Let’s imagine that we have a dog, and we’re trying to get the dog to eat” or “Let’s imagine we’re trying to tell a child to eat,” or something like that. It’s trying to figure out, okay, what is the exact context that can create the scenario which it would be said even though it’s said a lot.

Lauren: That’s not even taking into account that you might be working with someone in a culture where it is just so rude to give someone a direct command and that you need to observe them hanging out with a child or a pet or a person they’re really close to to get actual uses of the imperative because you’re some outsider to whom it would be incredibly rude to do that.

Gretchen: Some places you can use imperatives politely as well. But there’s often this additional social context. I think that there’s also – we were talking about earlier about like, well, you have this polite imperative or you have this plural imperative or this honorific imperative, and in a lot of the European languages that have these polite second-person pronouns, “vous” or “sei” or “Usted” or something like that, they also figured out some sort of imperative there which is borrowed from some other bit of the verbal thing there because like, “Oh, we need an imperative, but this was actually originally a third-person” or a plural or something, and you have to grab it from somewhere else. Imperatives start you in into, “Okay, what do people do in this language and in this particular culture when they’re addressing somebody? What are the ways you address somebody? What are the ways you don’t address somebody? Which things are polite? Which things are impolite? What are all the things you can do?” There’s this word in French that I don’t actually know what it means so much as I know how it’s used, which is just the word you add to something to make it a polite imperative.

Lauren: Excellent.

Gretchen: It’s “veuillez.” It’s got a lot of Ls in it. That’s what French does. You’ll see it on a lot of official signage. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard someone say it out loud, but it’s on so much signage. You’d have like, “Veuillez sit down when the train is in motion,” or something like this.

Lauren: It’s where you’d use “please” in a polite English imperative.

Gretchen: But it’s not “please” because you can put “s'il vous plait” in there as well, which is “please.” It’s just the polite verb that you use for the polite things. I’m sure it has a literal meaning, but that literal meaning is not as relevant as the fact that it’s the polite verb you use for the polite things.

Lauren: The social function of giving a command is also why imperatives are discussed as a thing where you direct it toward someone else who’s also there – a second person, “You do this” – because in order for a command to be effective, it has to be a person delivering it to another person.

Gretchen: It sort of depends on how lumper and splitter-y you wanna get. If you wanna talk about first-person plural imperatives, if you wanna talk about something like, “let’s,” as an imperative or using other words like a hortative, it depends on what the grammar of a particular language is doing whether it makes sense to group it with the imperatives or not. Sometimes, like, “Let’s go,” or like, “Let him go,” “Let them eat cake” – sometimes those are treated with the imperatives and sometimes they’re not. But there’s also a core set of imperatives of like, okay, well, what do you do if you’re addressing one person, maybe a few people? And then there’s all of the ancillary stuff around imperatives which is still just not that big of a space. I think it’s one of those things where there’s something about how humans organize their societies and their culture and their notions of self-hood and –

Lauren: And how human brains are constructed.

Gretchen: How human brains are constructed. It’s kind of like how human societies have words for day and night cycles because we live on a planet that has a certain day and night cycle that’s really salient to everybody who’s here. That doesn’t mean, in theory, you couldn’t have humans who lived on a different planet that had drastically different day and night cycles that could have words for those sorts of things.

Lauren: This is why I love speculative science fiction because you get to build worlds where if you had people who could melt their consciousnesses together, then the distinction between giving a command as an imperative to a second person becomes less meaningful if you’re all the one consciousness.

Gretchen: Yeah, if you had neuro links or a society with magic or something where certain imperatives come with the force of commands where they’re magically enforced and certain ones are suggestions, maybe that ends up showing up in the grammar at some point. Or if you had, I don’t know, swarm consciousnesses or something, or diffused consciousnesses, maybe the first and second persons would work really differently because your notion of consciousness would be different.

Lauren: If you had multiple consciousnesses within one body, would you use a third-person imperative to talk to yourself?

Gretchen: I think there are people who have distributed consciousness or multiple consciousnesses, and they do various things – sometimes a “we,” sometimes, addressing other people.

Lauren: There’s so much scope for possibility, and humans occupy a tiny piece of that real estate, usually.

Gretchen: In Embassytown by China Mieville, there’s this thing where you have two brains that are occupying – they have to say all of the words together at the same time.

Lauren: Ah, yeah. It’s been a long time since I’ve read that book, and it is so full of fantasticness that I can’t even remember how those multiple-brain persons exist.

Gretchen: It’s been a long time since I read this book as well. I did not re-read it like Ella Enchanted, but I remember that in text, the words that they say simultaneously are written above and below a long line – like an em dash or a long em dash – and the words are written above and below. You have two mouths but one consciousness. It’s a surface-level treatment there because it’s not asking the question of, “What would that mean for first persons and second persons and third persons?” It’s just like, they say all of the words all at once even if it’s just a noun.

Lauren: Gonna write a grant application to do fieldwork with fictional aliens in a sci-fi fictional world.

Gretchen: I just think the space is really underdeveloped and some people should be working on it.

Lauren: There’s so much possibility for what an imperative could do in other consciousnesses, but in the human languages that we know about and have been discussed, in general, it’s doing something with the verb. That’s where it tends to hang out. That’s what we’ve been discussing so far. As always, I’m sure there are many caveats and complications, but it’s doing something to the verb that’s different from, say, something like tense, which is looking at time and where in time the verb is situated. It’s turning something that’s an action into a command.

Gretchen: There’s a distinction – I think the easiest one to notice is the distinction between something like, “I see,” “I look,” “I sit,” “I go,” versus, “See,” “Look,” “Sit,” “Go,” where one of them is describing something that’s going on, and the other one is giving a command which could have all the functions of polite command or impolite command in that range. It does change the vibe of the verb. The Romans, who did a lot of the descriptive grammatical tradition that we’ve inherited in the European language space, called this the “mood” of the verb. I think we should maybe rename it the “vibe” of the verb because it seems very intuitive to me. “Mood” in this context is not like, “Is the verb happy or sad,” it’s just a vowel shift from “mode.” Like, what “mode” is this verb in? It’s in the command mode. It’s in the declarative mode, the describing things mode. It’s kind of like, you know, set your gears to start or to reverse or to –

Lauren: And look, I’m not gonna lie. I think when these labels got added – around 500 years ago they became really consistent with grammar teaching – when they chose this word, I’m pretty sure they chose it for a really similar reason that you chose “vibe.” “Mode” is just this general word. It’s still a pretty general word. We use it for fashion or, as you said, a mode of a machine.

Gretchen: You’re mode of transportation.

Lauren: It’s just one of these wonderfully convenient labels that you don’t have to interrogate too deeply.

Gretchen: “Mode” seems to imply that you can have a given verb, and it can sometimes be in this mode and sometimes be in that mode, whereas “class” implies you have, you know, some verbs are in this class and some verbs are in that class, and they don’t correspond. But they’re all generic categorization words. They kind of just picked one. As far as I can tell, they just picked one and then that became the name for this distinction that they were trying to talk about of “Is the verb like this or is the verb like that?” Well, that’s it’s “mode.” Then we had an unfortunate vowel shift, and it seems like it corresponds to a mood like happy or sad. “Mode” is sort of the more intuitive way of thinking about what the difference is between these categories.

Lauren: People will sometimes use “mood,” and they’ll sometimes use “mode” and talk about “modality” If you see something that’s talking about “modality” in linguistics, it’s generally talking about, well, is it just a declarative sentence explaining how the world works or is it in one of these other modes like the imperative. There are a whole bunch of others in this category.

Gretchen: Well, and sometimes “modality” is also used for modals, like “can” and “must” and “should” and stuff like that.

Lauren: Oh, we should talk about modal verbs.

Gretchen: Yeah! We should do a whole episode about modals.

Lauren: With evidentiality, which is something we’ve done a whole episode on, there is a lot of discussion about –

Gretchen: Which is your favourite thing.

Lauren: Which is one of my favourite things. There’s a whole discussion about whether evidentiality is its own category separate from mode, or if it sits within a more lumper definition of “mode,” or whether we split it off as its own, or if it sits in a subcategory. It reminds me a lot about how I imagine the early discussions around biological classification must’ve happened.

Gretchen: Because at a certain point you’re like, okay, so we need to have all of these different sorts of levels of “Are these just different species of birds or are they all birds together? Here we’ve got the mammals. Here we’ve got” – I’m not a biologist; I’m not gonna torture this metaphor too far – but which of the things are more closely related? Which are the things that are more distantly related? There’s several levels here, but some of them you’re like, “Well, they just needed to come up with another name for this.” It’s useful to have a name as a handle so that we’re all talking about the same thing, but sometimes those names don’t always have a very good etymological reason for why they’re called that thing in particular. Sometimes it’s just like, “Well, we needed a name for this group.”

Lauren: And sometimes a level – because there are classes in biological animal kingdom hierarchies, right. So, the word “class” there has a really specific meaning, whereas we could just talk about a general class of objects or a particular class of students. It has all these different meanings. I think “mode” is one of those similar words that has lots of different meanings but in linguistics tends to have this specific meaning.

Gretchen: Yeah. And this is a thing that academic disciplines, especially, in the natural philosophy vibe of categorising the world and trying to figure out which things are more related to each other tends to go into common words and say, “Ah, we’re gonna come up with a technical definition for this one,” and be like, “Well, technically, this is what a reptile is now,” or like, “Technically, this is what a mood is now. This is what a mode is.” You end up with this situation where the technical definitions and the vernacular definitions co-exist. That can sometimes lead to almost more confusion where you’re like, “I need to figure out, first of all, is this person using the technical meaning right now or are they using the vernacular meaning. Which one am I trying to use? Which one is appropriate for this context?” In addition to “What is this word?” Whereas, sometimes, if there’s an entirely new word for something, it’s just like, “Oh, well, I’ve learned this new word and it refers to this specific thing and it always refers to that.” There isn’t this competing vernacular definition that also exists. The way that this often gets taught in classrooms is like, “Well, the vernacular version you learned is wrong. This is the real definition.” But I think we’re interested in describing language and saying, descriptively, people use “mode” in all sorts of different ways – people use “mood” in all sorts of different ways. It’s just that in certain contexts there’s this one very particular definition that it’s used with in this one case. Oh, “case,” that’s another one. Look, you can use “case” to mean a whole lot of things! There’s one technical linguistic meaning of it, but there’s also a lot of other ways you could use “case.�� Sometimes the metaphor goes in the other direction. Sometimes a word gets borrowed from grammatical terminology into the more generic life circumstances as well. “Gender” initially referred to just a class, like a genre, and then it gets used in a vernacular sense as well.

Lauren: I have a sense that imperative – if something is very important, it’s “imperative” – came from the urgency of a command as well.

Gretchen: That’s possible. The idea of like, okay, well, this is this particular grammatical thing but also can get used metaphorically for the whole related set of ideas.

Lauren: In much the same way that the Linnaean biological classification system owes a lot to Latin terminology and that Western tradition of classification, I can’t help but feel that part of the reason we have a category of imperatives is because, as you mentioned earlier, Latin happens to have a very clear imperative form of the verb. I wonder what would’ve happened to a grammatical tradition and how we classify modality and mode and imperatives if we started with a language that didn’t have those structures.

Gretchen: I think it’s a difficult to answer question, but it’s a really valid question. I found Latin has a reputation of like, “Oh, I didn’t understand grammar until I studied Latin.” That’s not because other languages don’t have grammar. It’s because a lot of our grammatical terminology was invented specifically for Latin and to work really well with Latin. Then you end up learning about how English grammar works because you learn Latin in a very translate-y sort of way, and you learn what the reflexes are of particular English-y things in Latin or of things in another language in Latin. It feels like Latin grammar is easier because the grammar as we learn it was invented to fit Latin really well.

Lauren: As someone who didn’t study Latin, I’m very happy to say that I didn’t understand English grammar until I studied linguistics. It achieves similar ends but from a very different perspective.

Gretchen: I think, having studied both Latin and linguistics, there’s a sense in which the grammar of Latin is very catalogued in many cases, it’s very pinned down, because it’s not a language that’s actively being spoken by people. It has been finitely described. The thing that excites me about linguistics is you can approach grammar in this more experimental way where you can say things like, “Is the imperative really valid in this language?” Or “Does this language have a prohibitive?” “Is this useful categorization to make?” “Is this a useful distinction to make?” That’s something that’s less the case when you’re talking about one very well-described language and something that’s more the case when you’re trying to figure out, okay, how do languages compare with each other or what’s going on in language in general or what else is going on here or what’s going on in the language that isn’t as well described. It’s a more expansive look at how grammar can work than just like, okay, here’s a list of all the stuff you learned. You can be trying to figure out what’s going on with grammar.

Lauren: One of the joys of the imperative, as we said, it’s really relatively uncomplex grammatically across a lot of different languages and that it’s so interactively complicated and fascinating. I think that’s what keeps bringing me back to this category.

Gretchen: Which makes it a good introduction to the idea of, okay, how could we do these categories? What does it mean for a verb to have a “mood” or a “mode”? Whereas something like with the subjunctive, which is another mood, is harder to wrap your head around. If you’re trying to get a handle on both of things at the same time, it can be overwhelming. Whereas the imperative is a good slice to break off of “Here’s this thing that we know how to do the command thing. Someone wrote a YA novel about it in 1997.” But also, it’s this gateway into considering this broader question of like, yeah, what sort of vibes can the verbs have.

[Music]

Gretchen: For more Lingthusiasm and links to all the things mentioned in this episode, go to lingthusiasm.com. You can listen to us on Apple Podcasts, Google Podcasts, Spotify, SoundCloud, YouTube, or wherever else you get your podcasts. You can follow @Lingthusiasm on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and Tumblr. You can get IPA scarves, IPA greeting cards, and other Lingthusiasm merch at lingthusiasm.com/merch. I can be found as @GretchenAMcC on Twitter, my blog is AllThingsLinguistic.com, and my book about internet language is called Because Internet.

Lauren: I tweet and blog as Superlinguo. Have you listened to all the Lingthusiasm episodes and you wish there were more? You can get access to 48 bonus episodes to listen to right now at patreon.com/lingthusiasm or follow the links from our website. Patrons also get access to our Discord chatroom to talk with other linguistics fans and other rewards including an upcoming liveshow. They also help keep the show ad-free. Recent bonus topics include deleted anecdotes, an Ask Me Anything with a lexicographer, and a Q&A with the two of us. If you can’t afford to pledge, that’s okay, too. We really appreciate it if you can recommend Lingthusiasm to anyone who needs a little more linguistics in their lives.

Gretchen: Lingthusiasm is created and produced by Gretchen McCulloch and Lauren Gawne. Our Senior Producer is Claire Gawne, our Editorial Producer is Sarah Dopierala, and our music is “Ancient City” by the Triangles.

Lauren: Stay lingthusiastic!

[Music]

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

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peppersonironi · 4 years

Text

Batfam/Avengers Crossover Chapter One: Arrival

Yo, this has been on Ao3 for a while and people seem to really love it, So I thought I’d post it here! Chapter below the cut.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Category: Gen Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types Relationships: Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Natasha Romanov & Damian Wayne, Clint Barton & Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tim Drake & Duke Thomas, Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Dick Grayson/Wally West, Roy Harper/Koriand'r/Jason Todd, Characters: Bruce Wayne, Selina Kyle, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Barbara Gordon, Justice League (DCU), Alfred Pennyworth, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Thor (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Peter Parker, Alfred the Cat (DCU), Bat-Cow (DCU), Goliath (DCU), Selina Kyle's Cat Isis, Kate Kane (DCU), Duke Thomas, Additional Tags: Batbrothers (DCU), Avengers Meet The Batfam, MCU/Batfam crossover, Crossover, no beta we die like robins, rated T for Jason's language, I bleeped it out though. Just to be safe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, canon? What's canon?, Deaf Clint Barton,Deaf Character, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Happy Batfamily (DCU), Birdflash and joyfire are implied/referenced,

Summary:

The Avengers find themselves in an alternate universe where none of them exist. Instead, there is a different group of heroes: The Justice League. They decide to work together to get the Avengers home. But not not everything is instantaneous, so the Avengers need a place to stay. The only place available is Wayne Manor.

Que Batfamily shenanigans!

Multi-chapter fanfic, with some one shots that go along with the plot thrown in.

Notes:

This is my first time writing anything with the Avengers - especially a deaf!clint - and the Batfam, so I apologize if anything is doc. Constructive criticism is appreciated!

This is mainly comic DCU with Movie Avengers (Set after the first avengers movie, plus Spiderman, cause I can ;-)

Crack! Bang! There was a flash of blindingly bright light, followed by a huge explosion.

"Wha- where are we?"

Tony Stark looked over to Peter who had been the first to speak. Crap, the kid had come here too. But wherever here was, he did not know.

Tony, Steve, Hulk, Thor, Clint, Peter, and Natasha stood in a loose clump at the center of a smoking crater. The sky was cloudy and dark, and they appeared to be at least five miles outside of a big city, judging from the buildings in the distance. There was also a highway filled with streaming cars a couple of miles to Tony’s right.

“This isn’t right,” He muttered, opening his faceplate. Where were the sunny tropical trees that housed the compound of Anagnorisis - weird name, he knew - who was some D-list villain who thought some slightly advanced tech made them a world-conqueror. But Tony was beginning to think that those guns were a bit stranger and more advanced than he had previously believed.

“Tell me about it,” replied Steve. “Any idea where we are? Was it some sort of teleportation gun that was shot at us? This looks nothing like the Amazon.”

Before anyone could speak, Tony received a notification. Multiple incoming objects were approaching, fast . With the exception of the second fastest, they seemed to be airborne. “Multiple incomings, perhaps hostile. Most are flying. And they aren’t missiles. I think people ? But -”

“Who are you?”

Suddenly the first object arrived, and Stark was right. It was a black haired man in a blue skin tight suit with a red “S” on it and a flowing red cape. It would look ridiculous if he wasn’t glaring daggers at the group while flying .

He was joined almost immediately by another man, this time wearing an all red bodysuit with a lightning bolt on the chest and cowl. He was not flying though. He stopped in front of them swinging his arms as lightning dissipated. He had run there.

Next came a woman dressed in the colors of the american flag, with golden cuffs, tiara, and lasso by her side. She came with a man in a green, white, and black skin tight suit with some sort of symbol - perhaps a lantern? - on his chest. He also wore a green ring and black domino mask with white lenses on his face. They were both joined by another, a split second later. This was by far the strangest arrival. He was completely bald, with green skin and red eyes. He wore navy blue pants and cape, with only a red “X” over his chest. All three were floating.

“Who are you?” The blue and red man repeated.

Tony scoffed. Was this guy serious? “We’re the Avengers, obviously.”

The group shared a look. “Is that some new kind of villain group? I swear to all that is good and holy if I need to deal with another group who think they can rule the world, I. Will. Quit.” This time the man who spoke was the runner.

Steve replied, confusion clear on his face. “We’re not villains! We’re the Avengers; Earth’s mightiest heroes!”

Instead of coming to their senses, the strangely dressed newcomers laughed .

“You do realize you are speaking to members of the Justice League?” The woman spoke, her lips pursed.

“The who now?”

“Be quiet Kid, we don’t know what we’re dealing with.” Tony spoke to Peter. He was getting more worried by the second. Something was seriously wrong.

“Dealing with?” The green dressed man frowned, clearly suspicious of the Avengers. He started to fidget with his ring. “Well, since you don’t seem to know, let me enlighten you.” He gestured to each of his companions. “Superman, son of Krypton. Wonder Woman, Amazonian Princess. The Flash, fastest man alive. Martian Manhunter, well, a martian. And Me, Green Lantern. Member of the Green Lantern Core.”

Well, that explained everything. Not.

“We do not know you, strangers.” Thor spoke this time. “Perhaps you leave us be, our green friend over here gets frustrated easily.” He pointed to Hulk, who was breathing heavily.

The green man - martian, apparently - spoke for the first time. “Not until you tell us who you are and why you are in a smoking crater near His city.”

“His?” Clint clearly did not like the way the martian spoke of this character. To be honest, Stark didn’t either.

This got the most surprised reactions from the five. They looked at each other, and Tony could have sworn there was a hint of fear in their faces.

“Oh, He is so not going to like that.” Green Lantern said.

“Combined with the fact that we ditched Him.” The Flash cringed. Then looked worried again. “Yo, green grape, you okay.

The Hulk’s breathing was growing heavier, his face contorted into that of utter rage.

“Uh-oh,” Steve said.

“I . . . Not . . . GRAPE!” Hulk roared as he charged the The Flash who nimbly dodged. Superman went down to intercede, and just got punched by the Hulk. Though it did not seem to physically bother him, he was clearly angry.

Tony shut his face plate and moved forward, intending to stop the fight, but he only got attacked by the martian. Peter jumped forward to help, and soon everyone was fighting.

Thor was pitted against the Wonder Woman, and they seemed evenly matched. Black Widow was against The flash, and despite his incredible speed she seemed to be almost winning. Both Hawkeye and Captain America were battling Green Lantern.

No one seemed to have the upper hand, which worried Tony. These people were tough. If they couldn’t beat them . . . he didn’t know what would happen.

Peter didn’t seem to share his worry though. He instead seemed to be having fun. Tony could tell the kid was smiling beneath his mask, and his body language screamed hyper and happy. He seemed to get that way whenever they fought together, and a small part of Tony was filled with a sense of parental pride.

The fight seemed endless, no one gaining traction. Until something incredible happened. Thor threw Mjolnir directly at his opponent, and instead of being knocked down like everyone else, she caught the hammer. Every Avenger - even the Hulk - immediately froze, catching the attention of the newcomers.

“This is a very well crafted weapon, though a bit clunky,” Wonder Woman said as she tossed the hammer from one hand to the other. She paused, seeing their reactions.

“You are worthy.” Thor spoke with disbelief and a tint of resignation in his voice.

“Pardon?” Superman spoke, his frown apparent.

“Only those worthy can lift Mjolnir - my hammer. She clearly can, which means that you are trustworthy.”

*****

Five minutes of somewhat confused conversation later, they had reached an uneasy truce. Neither spoke much at first, but they soon began to compare notes. Apparently They both believed themselves to be the protectors of Earth, which brought on a bout of argument before Peter stepped in.

“Woah hold on, calm down. Something is clearly up, so there’s no need to argue!”

Wonder Woman looked contemplative. “How old are you boy, you seem young.”

Peter bristled. “I’m 15, and I’ve been a superhero for a while now, so I’m not inexperienced!”

Green Lantern laughed. “That’s not what she met, kid. We aren’t going to tell you how old you need to be to fight crime. The amount of we work with, and some even younger than you . . .” He shook his head and laughed. Then he realised how he had sounded. “I mean, we don’t force them, it's up to each individual to make that choice for themselves. Well, with the mentor’s approval of course.”

Natasha furrowed her brows. “How young are some of these kids?” Tony knew she had a thing against child soldiers, so he wasn’t surprised she was disapproving.

Green Lantern looks to the Flash. “How old is Robin at this point? 9?”

Flash laughed. “Naw, that little devil is 11. He was very adamant on that fact when he threatened me with his katana.” He shook his head.

Green Lantern laughed. “Yeah, most of the others are teenagers. Robin is the youngest, and I’d say most deadly, but Red Hood . . .”

“The Dark Knight really does have a problem,” Flash said.

His last comment made Green Lantern freeze. They both looked at each other then turned to Peter.

“Kid, stay away from The Dark Knight.” Green Lantern says.

“Yeah, if He sees you, there’s no way you’ll ever leave.”

“He’s the most dangerous man on earth,” Green Lantern adds.

“Guys, stop. You’re scaring him.” Superman looks disappointedly at the two heroes who Tony pegged as the trouble makers of the group. This idea was further cemented in Tony when they started laughing. Despite this, he decided to keep Peter as far away from this supposed Dark Knight as possible.

“Speak of the devil, he’s on his way.” Superman says this with a smile, then he cringes. “And we’re going to get an earful alright. Ten minutes ahead of him is a big deal apparently.”

In a moment. Tony got an alert that something was approaching. Fast. Soon he saw a large black military type armoured car fly down the highway from the city and off the road. It zoomed toward them.

It was a sight indeed to see the menacing black car swerve and expertly stop a few yards from the group. The top opened and a dark form shot straight up before landing in a kneeling position in front of them. The figure rose, and Tony got the first good look at him. He was a tall man with a broad chest and shoulders, dresses in complete black. There was a bat-like symbol on his chest, also in black. He wore a cape that flowed around menacingly. His face was covered by a cowl with pointed ears, like that of an owl, or perhaps a bat. The only part of his costume that was not black was the dark gold utility belt at his waist. Altogether, he was utterly frightening.

Tony took a step forward, effectively blocking Peter, who scoffed.

“Batman,” Superman said, a smile on his face.

Batman fixed the most impressive and terrifying glare upon the man that Stark had ever seen. “You broke protocol by going ahead of me. You are in my territory Superman. And you know that I cannot fly or run at the speed of sound.” He fixed his glare on the rest of his group who all reacted with either flinches or sheepish shrugs.

Batman grunted before looking at the Avengers. He sized each of them up, staying longest on Stark. Tony felt as if his entire being was being stripped away under the scrutiny.

“Alternate Dimension jumpers, not by choice I’m assuming.”

He spoke so simply that it took a minute for Tony to react. Even then, the man was already on his way back to his car.

“We’re near Gotham, let’s regroup at the Cave.”

Tony didn’t know what this Cave was, but he wasn’t sure he liked it. “Are you the Dark Knight?” He asked, before he lost his nerve.

The man looked immediately at the Flash and Green Lantern, who looked both scared and amused. Their sheepish smirks and chuckles dissipated when Batman looked away and back to Tony.

“The Dark Knight, The World’s Greatest Detective, The Caped Crusader, The Batman. All are titles I have earned. See you at the cave.”

And with that he hopped in his car and sped off back toward the gloomy city beyond.

#Avengers Meet The Batfam #MCU/Batfam crossover #Batfam/Avengers Crossover #batfam #avengers #bruce wayne #tony stark #steve rogers #clint barton #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #thor odinson #peter parker #justice league #batman

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queenxxxsupreme · 4 years

Text

Shelter

A/N: Needed some soft Yennefer because I love her.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warning: none :) this is pure fluff

Thunder rumbled in the clouds above the mountains that rested behind the witcher, the mage, the bard, and the source. Cirilla jumped at the clap of thunder. Yennefer, who rested on the same horse as her, offered a comforting hand to Ciri’s side. The young ashen haired girl was nearly falling asleep, struggling to keep her eyes open.

“I’m tired.” Ciri rubbed her eyes and leaned back into Yennefer, who gladly provided support.

“We are almost there.” She assured Ciri, kissing the top of her head.

“You said that an hour ago.” Jaskier muttered. His horse was just behind Yennefer and Ciri’s. Yennfer shot him a brief glare over her shoulder. Her violet eyes flickered back to Geralt. The witcher carried up the rear.

“We are nearly there.”

The White Wolf nodded once but said nothing.

“You’ve never actually told us where it is we are going.” Ciri said.

“Somewhere safe that we can rest.” Yennefer answered softly. “A trusted friend that can offer us shelter.”

“Huh. I didn’t think you had any friends.” Jaskier stated, nearly chuckling at himself.

Yennefer chose to ignore him.

The path began to grow more and more narrow. The trees provided a thick, dense canopy, hiding the forest floor from the dwindling light given by the evening sun. The darkness gave everyone an uneasy feeling. Geralt kept his eyes peeled and listened carefully to ever little sound, wanting to know if there was anything dangerous lurking in the woods.

As the forest came to an end, a little hilltop meadow came into view. At the base of the hill was a wooden gate attached to a fence. The fence disappeared in a thick bush on one side and traveled around the hill on the other side.

Using her magic, Yennefer pulled the gate open without getting off of her horse. Just as she was closing the gate behind Geralt, a dark brown donkey with white legs made itself known, braying and its ears pressed flat to its skull.

“Easy, Gus.” Yennefer put her hand up, ushering a wave of serenity to the animal.

Once Gus was calm, Yennefer continued up the path surrounded by undergrowth and bushes.

Around the little hill was a stone cottage. Lavender hydrangea bushes rested in the flower bed just outside of the house. Pink and purple bougainvilleas covered one side of the cottage and green ivy littered the roof.

You were underneath the tree near the house with a book in hand and a lamb across your lap. A calf rested next to you, resting its head on your thigh. When they heard Gus’s alarm, they lifted their heads up.

The lamb bleated and hurried to greet the uninvited guest. The calf was slower to get up but followed its friend. You remained under the tree, smoothing out your skirt as you looked at the group.

When you realized it was Yennefer, you were on your feet and running to her. The book that had once been in your hand was left in the grass. Excitement and happiness filled your veins at the sight of the mage.

You collided into her with such force that she nearly fell backwards. She had to step back to keep from falling to the ground. Your arms wrapped around her neck and your lips met hers. She tasted just as sweet and intoxicating as you remembered.

Her arms slipped around your waist, holding you close to her. She pulled away first, smiling at you. You couldn’t help getting lost in her violet gaze.

“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve brought a few guests.”

The mage’s words reminded you that the two of you weren’t alone. Your arms retracted from her and you stepped back to look at who all she had brought. You immediately recognized Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf, from not only the ballads but also from what Yennefer told you. Cirilla was easy to recognize too with her ashen hair and bright blue eyes. That left the brunet man to be Jaskier, the bard.

“Where are my manners?” You laughed softly, brushing your hair behind your ears. “You look like you’ve been traveling for ages. I’ve got warm soup and extra beds. Let’s go put the horses in the stable around back.”

“How did you know I’d be coming with them?” Yennefer asked as she began to lead her horse with Ciri still on top of it.

“I didn’t.” You looked over to her. “I had enough ingredients so I made extra and I was going to take it into town to give to the beggars in town.”

Yennefer’s chest tightened at your words. You were a soul too pure for her. She was unworthy of your kindness and generosity.

She reached up to brush her fingers over your hair, smiling gently at you.

“Am I the only one who did not see that coming?” Jaskier whispered to Geralt. The witcher glanced at him but said nothing, following silently behind Yennefer.

***

Once the horses were in stables and had been given chunks of hay for the night, you ushered everyone into the house, making sure that they washed their hands at the well just outside of your home.

You went inside ahead of everyone else and began to slice a fresh loaf of bread just pulled from the stone oven.

“I’m terribly sorry. Yennefer is such a rude person.” Jaskier swatted his hand in Yennefer’s direction. “She didn’t properly introduce us. I’m Jaskier, this lovely lady is Ciri, and that’s Geralt.”

“I know who you all are.” You told Jaskier, moving to gather enough bowls for everyone. “Geralt is easy to tell because of the ballads - your ballads. And Yennefer has mentioned Cirilla quite a few times.”

“She’s never mentioned you.” Ciri frowned, brows drawing together.

You placed a bowl of hot soup down in front of her, offering her a gentle smile.

“Yen doesn’t tell anyone about me.” You glanced over to the mage who stood at the end of the table, refusing to sit. You winked at her, letting her know you were just messing with her. “She prefers to keep me a secret.”

“If you tell the world of the fortune you managed to stumble upon, then everyone will rush to steal it from you.” She said, tapping her fingertips against the table.

You could sense something was wrong with her. Something bothered her. She was tense.

You finished dipping out bowls for the two men and wiped your hands on your skirt, your eyes finding Yennefer.

“Don’t mind us.” You told the three at the table, giving them little smiles. “We just have to step outside for a moment. Do help yourself to bread and more soup. There’s plenty to go around.”

You moved past Yennefer, hooking your hand around her arm and tugging her outside. The door to the cottage closed behind her.

“What’s wrong?” You asked her, brows drawing together as you tilted your head to the side a little.

She said nothing at first, violet eyes flickered over the path in front of your home.

“I didn’t want to bring them here.” She admitted quietly, her eyes searching your face but never meeting your eyes. “I would’ve much rather teleported them here, but I’m exhausted and tired and it’s-it’s been such a long day-,”

“Hey.” You cut her off, placing your hand on her arm. “It’s okay that you’ve brought them here. You all needed somewhere to stay, somewhere safe. I’m glad you’ve come home.”

You embraced her in a warm hug, one much gentler than your previous one.

“I just don’t like to risk your safety.”

“I don’t mind providing somewhere for them to go.” You pulled your head back so that you could look into her eyes. “They’re your family. Wherever you are welcomed, so are they.”

Yennefer brought her hand up to trace your jaw with her fingertips.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“You deserve everything.” You pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “Now come. You need to eat something.”

***

You had just finished giving Ciri enough blankets for the night. She’d be staying on an extra bed in the floor of your room. Jaskier and Geralt would be sleeping in the main room by the fireplace. You had enough blankets for them but the hearth would surely aid in keeping them warm.

Jaskier was sitting on a stool by the fire, quietly playing a song and messing with lyrics. Yennefer was in with Ciri, talking quietly to the young girl.

Geralt sat alone at the kitchen table, staring at his hands.

You moved to sit across from him. He looked up at you and sat straighter. You smiled a little at him.

“I just…. I know how you and Yennefer met.” You told him, keeping your voice low so that only he could hear. “And I want to thank you for saving her.”

“What has she told you?” His voice was deep and gravelly. He didn’t speak much throughout the evening.

“Everything.” You admitted. You turned your head to look down the hallway that your room was down. “Of her destiny…. Of yours…. And of Cirilla’s.”

You did your best not to feel upset about it. You knew the wish Geralt made wasn’t in Yennefer’s control. Her fate was stuck to his forever, sealed after the first time they met. Cirilla’s fate was intertwined with theirs being that she was Geralt’s child surprise. Yennefer thought of her as her own daughter and it warmed your heart to see your mage act to gentle and sweet with her.

“Thank you for saving her.” You looked to Geralt, meeting his gaze. “If there is anything ever that you need, you can come to me. I’m a stranger to your world, to Yennefer’s world, sure. But I can offer a warm bed and fresh food. Somewhere safe should you ever need it.”

Geralt nodded once, a silent thank you to your words.

“Please enlighten me, Y/N.” Jaskier quit playing his lute as he spoke. “How did such a sweet woman like you end up with a hellbeast like Yennefer of Vengerberg?”

Your eyes flickered over to the mage as she closed the door to your room behind herself.

“My mother is an herbalist from Vizima. Yennefer came to her shop in search of an herb. I took one look at her and decided that I wanted her.” You smiled gently.

She held your gaze but said nothing.

“Of course, she didn’t pay any attention to me at first.” You leaned back, motioning for her to sit next to you. She hesitated before doing so. You placed your hand on her knee, offering her comfort. “But eventually, I managed to catch her attention.”

“When you nearly set yourself on fire.” Yennefer sighed.

“It was an accident though.”

***

After a few hours, you and Yennefer retired to your room. You clambered into the bed, settling beneath fine furs and quilts. Yennefer only settled for the best of everything.

“Will you let me braid your hair?” You asked her as she began to get into the bed. She nodded softly and went around to your side of the bed. She climbed up to rest between your legs.

Minutes passed as the two of you enjoyed the peace and quiet. Your fingers were delicate with her thick dark hair.

“Thank you.” She murmured softly, glancing over her shoulder so she could steal a look at you. “For welcoming them the way you did.”

“No need to thank me, love.” You kissed her forehead. “You are all I need as a thanks. Now turn around so I don’t make this crooked.”

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#yennefer #yennefer x reader #yennefer of vengerberg #yennefer of vengerberg x reader #the witcher #the witcher netflix #mage #yennefer fluff #yennefer oneshot #yennefer fic

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blade-king-luze · 4 years

Text

“Yuletide Beginnings”

(OOC: A story that I want to make for Christmas. Something adorable and maybe lift the spirits during these pandemic times. Even if most of us will not have a Christmas this time around, it’s always fun to think about especially on my end. I love holidays so much. Merry Christmas, everyone! Stay warm!) - Two perspectives of Luze and Yuki - Feat. Yuki Giou, Luka Crosszeria, Sodom, Touko Murasame

Beginnings are always nerve wracking. Sometimes it can be something that people look forward to. Sometimes it can be something new that people learn from. It may peek curiousity of others whenever they see some things for the first time.

Luze has been staying with the Zweilts ever since the beginning of Summer on The Surface. It wasn’t until December was present where Luze began to notice strange decor that stretches outside of the hallways. It became more vibrant the deeper he went towards the living room. What are these strange decorations for, he wonders?

He also notices the air outside got a little bit more colder than normal from his room window. Though he doesn’t feel anything uneasy, it calms him somehow within his heart and mind. As curious as he was when he was a child, he begins to discovers what December has to offer through the tradition of Christmas.

Let the cool breeze of winter take you on a trip to Luze’s first discovery of holidays that humans have had following the tradition of the days past on from their ancestors.

Maybe until then, he will learn more than what’s to offer in the human world.

Luze

The morning crisp air greeted me as the curtains fluttered slightly through the window. It felt a little more colder than it usually was during this time of winter. I was already sitting upright at the edge of my bed as the chilled wind hit my back. I began to rub the side of my neck as I let my head tilt left and right from the slight strains.

I slowly got up and straightened myself as my raven flew to my shoulder to perch on. In his beak was one of the ribbons for me to tie my hair up. He tilted his head as if he was wondering if it was the right color. I gently petted his feathered beard with two of my fingers and took the ribbon from his beak. He croaked softly and flew to his metal perch as I placed the ribbon barely in my mouth to hold my hair up and walked towards the door.

As I began to open up the door with one hand clasping around my hair, I heard small footsteps making its way towards my direction. It was picking up more swiftly than I thought as the sound crept closer and closer. I was taken aback as I saw Sodom rushing pass me and down through the hallway yonder for a moment. “Morning, Luze!” Sodom said as he kept running further down amidst his tired breaths. He was slightly tangled in an elongated gold-like ribbon as I took a quick glance at him before he disappeared from my view.

I blinked twice in confusion as to what I had witnessed. My hand suddenly releasing my hair as it flowed naturally down once again. I slowly took the ribbon from my mouth and turn to the other direction again as I heard another set of footsteps coming. It was gentle but steadily hastening.

“If you’re looking for your little one, he ran that way and made a right turn.” I said as I saw Luka coming towards me. One of his hands were in his pocket as he heavily sighed. “Thanks for letting me know. He can’t hide forever.” He said calmly. “What was that all about if I may ask?” I cocked an eyebrow towards him. “It’s nothing, really. Just Sodom being his playful self while the holidays are rolling in.” He placed both of his hands in his pockets.

“Holidays?” I wondered. I began to grasp my hair once again and finally tied it up with my ribbon. Luka glanced to me bewildered but realized what I had asked. “Oh. That’s right.” He looked away for a moment. “You’ve only been here since summer started on The Surface. Well, if you’re that curious, you can head downstairs to see yourself. I really don’t feel like explaining things at the moment. I have a little familiar to catch up with anyway ...”

Before I began to speak, Luka already made his way down the hall quickly but slightly jogging towards where Sodom was supposedly heading. I begrudgingly sighed calmly. “Always leaving me with the vague details again ...” I said to myself. Even if it was something trivial, old habits die hard from overthinking.

I took a couple steps foward until I saw a sudden glint beneath me. I slightly tilted my head as I kneeled down to pick up the shining object. It was some kind of ornament, adorned with specks of silver flakes coated on the outside. It looked to be one of those globes with snow inside from what I saw in the markets on The Surface. I turned it around as the light reflected on the silver flakes making them gleam. I stood back up staring at it curiously and proceeded to walk.

I remained calm as I head towards the grand staircases that lead to the living quarters. I had swore I had saw more of those ribbons hung up on the walls. However, the more further in the hallways I went, it seems like the decor was beginning to become more present than what I saw with Sodom.

---

🎵 - (Music to read through this)

My steps from the grand staircases made soft creeks as I proceeded downwards. I still held onto the ornament on my other hand as I took in my surroundings. My eyes became more curious as I looked to the left of me then to my right.

The decorations became more prominent from the main living quarters. Streams of ribbons were hung on the sides of the walls, flat cutout of snowflakes joined by along the strands and lead towards the center near the fireplace. A foliage that was circular was hung right above where the hearth was, a wreathe of some sort that was also coated with silver flakes much like the ornament I carried. However, a towering structure caught my eye as I looked to the corner right next to the fireplace.

There was a tree inside the building. Two Humes were down below it, hanging other ornaments on it. There were wrapped boxes beneath it as well. They were neatly wrapped in colorful adornments with bows on top of them. The Humes seem to be decorating for something. Something that Luka mentioned earlier ... What was this all about? Is there something important that I should know about especially with a tree being indoors?

I proceeded to walk towards them to supposedly return the ornament to them. “Ah! Luze, good morning!” Yuki said as he first saw me. Touko was next to him and looked towards me. I nodded to them. “Good morning ...” I began to look around me once more for a moment until I return to look at them bewildered this time. “What’s all this for?”

“Huh?” Touko stood up straight and glared at me. “It’s for Christmas! What else would you think this is for?” I blinked again and barely tilted my head in slight concern as if I should watch my words. Yuki lightly giggled. “Touko, remember. This is his first time knowing what Christmas is about.” Touko was taken aback as she realized. She smiled wryly and rubbed the back of her head “Oh uh ... That’s right. Sorry, I totally forgot.”

I cocked an eyebrow at them still with a concerned expression. “Is anyone going to enlighten me about this or am I going to just ponder about it?” “Ah, yes!” Yuki stood up and looked at me and slightly smiled. “Christmas is a Day of Giving Gifts to our special ones. It also celebrates the Birth of God who gives blessings towards us.” He suddenly waved his hands in front of him nervously as he saw my expression. “Though, I hope you’re not thinking about the Gods that grants us powers! This is different though. But much like Him, all of the humans decided to pass on that tradition to our close friends and family by giving each other presents as you can see here.”

Yuki moved slightly towards his side as I looked down at the wrapped boxes. “... I see.” I began to wonder about this celebration. It had a different atmosphere now that I knew what it was about, no matter how vague the detail may be. ... A celebration of giving. Much like this “God” did before our time. “Also”, Touko chimed in jokingly. She winked at me. “You can even give gifts to your special someone if you ever have any.” “I beg your pardon?” I said barely taken aback. They both laughed softly at my expression as I stared blankly. I immediately brushed what they said and rolled my eyes at them.

I walked towards them as I held my hand out with the ornament. Touko looked at it and blinked. “Where did you get that from?” “I got this when I was exiting my quarters. It was right in front of me when Sodom ran passed by ... He seemed to have stolen some of these decorations, I assume?” Yuki giggled once more as I turned to him. “Sodom is just being playful. He did provide us entertainment when we started to decorate the whole area.” “... I take it that you had others help rather than my brother and the two of you?” I asked. Yuki nodded. “Ah, yes! We did. The rest are outside in the city at the moment. They are gathering food for dinner tonight.” “Oh I can’t wait to see what we would have! ... Hopefully we can trust them from what they would bring though.” Touko said mumbling. Yuki laughed and smiled. “I think we can trust them, don’t worry.”

I hesitated as I brought my hand towards me almost phasing out their conversation for a moment. I looked at the ornament again as the fire now made the sheen more different than the lighting in the hallway. It shimmered from its orange hue making the silver shine like a sunset. It gave out a warm sensation. “... You wouldn’t mind if I aid you, unless you’re nearly done?” I looked to them. The two of them looked towards me as Yuki shook his head. Touko smiled gently as she heard me. “Not at all!” Yuki said smiling back. “We would be glad if you did.”

I nodded at them as he told me that I could hang this ornament wherever on the tree. I walked towards the tree where my reflection could be seen from many of the glass-like spheres. I hung the ornament on an empty spot slightly higher than the rest, making sure that the decor did not clash with the design. I took a step back and pondered for a moment as I kept looking at it.

Humes can be strange when it comes to “days” that are important to them. It felt stranger when I took part of it, as much as how simple it may be from just hanging an ornament on a tree. However, it felt more calming and slightly enjoyable for a moment. But whatever the case may be, it stirs the hearts of those Humes. I sort of grew an understanding little by little from the speck of emotions I felt from this atmosphere. I felt like I did not mind learning more about the celebrations that Humes hold. After all, I have only been on The Surface without knowing much about them. And I am going to live with the Humes for quite awhile anyway. It’s best to start now than to dwell on it much as I have been here.

---

Yuki

It was almost past 6 as I rubbed my eyes tiredly. I sat on the floor in my room while I was wrapping small gifts to give to the orphanage I used to live in. It’s been about two years since I was away from my original home. I always thought of the children every holiday that passes.

I was glad that I kept hearing that they are doing well, while others fortunately found homes. It was such a difficult time where I had to move away so suddenly from them. However, as long as there are good news still lingering within the orphanage, I didn’t have to worry as much as before.

I smiled as I looked at the leftover small plushes that needed to be wrapped up. They all looked glad that they also get to have homes soon.

A couple of knocks came at my door as I turn to that direction. “Come in!” I said. The door opened slowly and gently. “You’re still up?” Someone said as they made it halfway through the door. “Luka? I would say the same thing.” I said smiling. “You may come in if you’d like.” Luka nodded and went inside. He leaned against the wall by the door he closed. He placed his hands on his pockets “I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay. You’ve been busy ever since this morning.” He stared at the presents that were wrapped up. “I was also a little concerned when you said you had to dismiss yourself early from dinner.” “I’m sorry.” I said wearily. “I just want to get this done early so I can prepare more gifts for the rest of us in the mansion.” Luka shook his head as he slightly smiled. “You can do whatever you like. Just don’t strain yourself. I don’t know what else to say but to give you our gratitude from today.” “Ah! It’s nothing!” I waved my hands slightly in front of me. I felt myself turn red. I really hope he didn’t recognize it. “I always think of everyone’s happiness before mine.” Luka looked to me slightly concerned but understood me.

Speaking of ... A sudden thought came through. “Hey, Luka?” I suddenly asked. “Hm?” “May I ask you something?” “Of course. Is something wrong?” I shook my head. “Ah, no. I wanted to ask about Luze. Do you ... Know what he likes?”

Luka stared at me for a few moments and looked away slightly. He cocked an eyebrow possibly thinking that he had to consider about this question. It was rare for him to talk about his twin since it’s been more than awhile. I still remember that time where he did tell me more about him when I first encountered Luze. It made me realize that Luka at that time still cared for him. He crossed his arms. “That’s ... Kind of a broad question and out of the blue. I guess you can say he does like a lot of things that I do still. Although, they are all subtle differences, thankfully.” “Hmm ...” I pondered. I looked to the leftover plushes that were still sitting. One was a horse laying on its stomache with its hooves outwards. “Would you think he likes horses? You know, considering his Greater Familiar is a horse-like Duras?”

“... You may be right. Although he might like horses in general now that I think about it. Whenever we passed by one, he would always look slightly towards them especially at one point at a pasture we walked by.” The thought of it made me smile a bit more. It sounded as if Luka told me about Luze’s inner child-like personality. However, it also gave me of an idea and something more to think about from him. “What do you think his favorite color is?” I asked. Luka scoffed subtly. “I think a small hint would come from me. Since I am more comfortable with black, he seems to find white more pleasing.” He looked at me slightly with a cocked eyebrow. “What’s all of these questions for, anyway?”

I reached out and grabbed the horse plush. I held it near me as its face stared right into my eyes. “I wanted to give him a special gift. It seems right to, considering it’s his first time. And first moments in everything are always special. So I want to make sure he feels the same way as others would.” Luka hesitated as he took into from what I said. He looked away for a moment pondering. His expression turned glazed yet regretful at the same time. I grew concerned as I noticed when I looked up at him. “... Yeah.” Was the only thing he said. “Luka? Is everything alright?” I asked. He looked at me quickly then away once again. He shook his head slowly. “Nothing. Are you thinking of getting him a white horse or something?” I was worried when he changed the subject fast. I wanted to ask more on what he was thinking, but I didn’t want to bother at the same time. He was probably thinking about Luze which is understandable. They were seperated for centuries.

I looked down on the horse plush. “I want to make him one of those charms like I did with the others. Although, I want to make it more unique like yours. You two have done so much for me even if I didn’t need it. ... My powers also damages me whenever I heal someone with a wound. Luze was able to handle half of my job though he may say that his healing is more weaker than mine.” I giggled a little. “And just like you in a way, he would reluctantly help me out without even saying a word. But I can tell that he doesn’t quite show much when he does. He’s very passive with his emotions.”

Luka hesitated as he looked at me. He smiled slightly as I explained what my gift to him was. “I see. I am sure he will appreciate it more than he would imagine.” I smiled as I placed the horse plush down and resumed wrapping the others. Luka continued to look at what I was doing for a moment in a blank expression. “You wouldn’t mind if I help you out a bit? I think it’s about time you will actually need your rest soon. If you’d like, you can start making his charm now. I don’t know how long that will take.” “Ah, well ...” I said as I felt myself turn red again. I looked away for a little then back at him with a genuine smile. “If you say so. I wouldn’t mind at all. I ... did want to get this done before working on it. I will accept the offer nonetheless. Thank you, Luka.”

Luka nodded as he sat down across from me. I proceeded to get the necessary materials to make Luze’s charm. I taught him how to do things here and there when it comes to wrapping the gifts. He got used to it though there may be small mistakes that made him a little embarrassed. I couldn’t help but laugh as he looked slightly away from me. It was a peaceful evening with Luka unlike the other nights where there were events that happen before the storm. It felt like the first time in awhile since we did have a peaceful moment like this.

I just hope this peaceful moment will last for a long time for Luze as well. He deserves a lot more than what he had to carry throughout his years. I have heard many from what he had to deal with whenever Luka talked about certain things about him. It made me want to meet him again and again, to get him out of his prison.

Yet here he is. Finally able to have his own freedom, living without a world of hate and pain. I want to symbolize that peacefulness through my gift to him no matter how small it may be.

So that he may feel at ease and remind him that not all days are just passing moments. One life is precious after all. And I want him to have more precious memories with us as life goes on.

---

Luze

It was quiet as midnight approaches. I slept peacefully, slowly turning from one side to another. The air from my opened window still came through colder than it was this morning. It was still uncanny yet calming. Although it was a good thing I am a Duras. We were able to control our body temperature to survive the harsh environments down in Infernus.

Diomedes, my raven, was snugged against me as he laid flat, fluffed up and croaking weakly like soft snores. The cool air calming both of us as the night rolls on by for the next morning to come.

At least ... I thought it would be peaceful.

I felt something nudging on my cheek. Something heavy was on top of my entire body. Was I dreaming of something weighing down on me? Suddenly, my raven got up and cawed loudly as he bounced backwards but did not attack whoever was inside my room. I immediately woke up, but barely got up from some kind of weight. I tried to adjust myself upright with my elbows. I blinked tiredly as the first thing I saw was a black dog on top of me with its tongue sticking out, huffing happily.

“... Sodom?” I said barely awake. I recoiled slightly as he licked my face two times. I gently pushed him back as I gave him pets on the neck to calm him down. “What in seven hells are you in my room for?” He barked softly and hopped off my bed. As I sat up straight, he made his way to the opened door and vanished from behind it. Confused, I sat up straight hesitating what that was all about. There was just non-stop questions coming from this day ... Also, why was my door pried opened all of a sudden. I had swore I kept it closed unless ... “Luka ...” I said growling underneath my breath. Before I began to release my anger, Sodom appeared once again from behind the door as his humanoid form and beckoned me to follow him.

“Come on!” He said as his hand signaled me to follow. I blinked twice as he disappeared again. I sighed and rubbed the back of my head and straightened a few strands of my hair down. I felt my body a little heavy as I stood up and grabbed my black cloak to drape it over me. I walked outside of my room as I placed my hands in my pockets. Diomedes flew and perched on my shoulder to keep me company. “I’m surprised you haven’t attacked him.” I said to him.

Sodom was at the corner to a doorway that lead to the balcony rooftop. His ears twitched as he was beamingly smiling mischievously at me and walked outside. I cocked an eyebrow as I scoffed from his expression. Whatever it may be that awaits me, I would never be mad at Sodom. But maybe towards my brother if he had the idea to use Sodom to wake me up in the middle of the damn night ...

When I reached towards the windowed doors to the balcony, I saw two figures outside. One sitting on the balcony wall railing, the other standing with his arms folded. The door clicked opened and both of them turn their heads towards me. Yuki stood up from where he sat and took a step forward. He had a warm smile as he greeted me. Luka was almost behind him but unfazed as he saw me. I took a glance at Luka irritated but immediately calm down as I turn to Yuki. I began to make my way towards them.

“I must apologize for waking you up so suddenly, Luze.” Yuki said in a slight wry smile. He looked concerned. However, I noticed that he had his hands behind him as if he was hiding something. “It’s quite alright.” I said as I stood in front of them now. My eyes glared intensily at Luka while he shrugged his shoulders. I rolled my eyes and looked to Yuki. “Is there something that you inquire of me? It’s quite late, especially for you.”

Yuki glanced slightly to the side of him, still with that warm smile of his. “I’m sorry. I was the one who wanted to bring you up here. So I asked Luka to, but I guess Sodom volunteered himself.” I looked at Sodom who was peeking behind Luka, gleaming and wagging his tail at me. I smiled tiredly at him. “So that’s the case, is it?” Diomedes flew to the railing next to where Sodom was and cawed at him for waking his master up. Sodom recoiled but Luka uninentionally managed to get in between them. He glared down at my familiar which made him hush.

Yuki giggled lightly as he made his way in front of me. I looked down at him hesitating. “Also, I couldn’t wait any longer. The official holiday is just a week ahead. But I wanted to at least give you something after all you have done for me.” He brought his hand towards the front holding something as my eyebrows lifted slightly up. In his hand was a small plush toy shaped as a horse. It was brown in color with black small bead-like eyes that reflected from the moonlight.

I stared at it as my hands moved on their own and accepted the gift. As I held it up towards me, I noticed something gleaming more than the eyes. The leather-bound umber chain was wrapped around the horse’s neck.

Following the chain, there was an ivory marble-like crossed pendant. The four sections of the crosses were outlined, creating the pointed outward arrows hollowed. Right in the center was a piece shaped as an orchid, completely filled in with an adorned emerald jewel at its center. I unraveled charm from the horse’s neck and held it right in front of me as the cross turned slightly left and right, letting the emerald shine from the moonlight. “Is this ... Really for me?” I asked bewilderdly. Even though it may look simple to the eyes, the design itself was intricate in minute details. However, I could feel the essence of light coming from it. Did Yuki embued this with his own powers?

Yuki nodded. “Since everyone has one, I wanted to make you one as well. You’re living with us, so it’s only right to. It’s ... also for the times you helped us with Kanata too.” I heard his voice grow quieter as he mentioned that name.

I looked at him surprised. Kanata ... It’s been awhile since I last saw him. I wondered if he was alright. My heart grew a little heavier as I thought about him ... We were technically still in a war and it was almost strange to think about through a time like this. I brought the necklace lower and looked to Yuki. “... It was nothing. We did what we could do after the unfortunate event he explained that happened on our end. Though ... it’s best not to dwell within it, no matter how sudden it may be. This ‘holiday’ is coming, isn’t it? I can assure you. You may be worried for Kanata, but he will be alright from what I can tell.” Yuki snapped out from worrying as he looked to me again and nodded subtly, taking in from what I said. Maybe there will be a point in time that I may pay a visit to him.

“You’re right ...” He smiled back at me though I knew within his heart that he felt uneasy. Luka look towards him concerned as well.

However, Yuki walked up and went closer to me. I blinked twice. “May I?” he asked and smiled calmly. I looked towards the crossed charm he gave me and handed it to him. He held onto it as he unlatched the leathered knot and held it up high to where he could tie it around my neck. I bent downward to make sure he can reach around. I pulled my hair away to expose more of my neck and let it flow down in front of me. As he leaned closer, I had swore I saw his face turn red for a second. I looked at him calmly as I felt his hands tie the knot behind my neck.

He finished tying the leathered chain with one more tight knot and stared at me for a moment. His hands were still barely hovering behind my neck. I wanted to lift my head away from him, but I noticed how long he was staring directly at me. “... Is something amiss?” “... The color of your eyes are beautiful up close.” Yuki said suddenly. My eyes widened slightly as I dropped the plush from my hand. It made a soft thud. I swiftly looked to the ground and hastily picked it up. I fixed my posture and brushed off the dust that stained the poor horse. ... I prayed to the Lord that my face did not turn as red as Infernus’ moon.

Yuki laughed wholeheartedly as he saw my expression. “I’m sorry! That was too sudden, was it?” He wiped a tear away. “I couldn’t help but noticed. Both you and Luka have beautiful eyes like jewels.” “... That’s what they all say for Opasts, yes.” I said still not looking towards his direction. I had thought I heard soft snickering in the background as I looked towards Luka. But all I saw was that he turned slightly around but with a hand to cover his mouth, along with his eyes closed ... I scowled at him with a cocked eyebrow. He was possibly holding his laughter as he saw me humiliate myself. Jackass.

“I hope you like it. It may seem nothing much though.” Yuki said. I looked at him concerned. However, I felt myself smiling calmly. “No, you’re wrong.” I said. “I can tell that you put effort on something you may deem unworthy. But I can assure you, I admire it.” I looked to the cross as I held it on my palm. “I will make sure to never take it off only whenever I need to and place it close to my heart.”

Yuki looked at me gleaming and nodded. “I’m glad to hear.” he said softly. He smiled genuinely as I thought I saw stars within his eyes.

Suddenly, I saw something small and white fall down in front of us. I looked up immediately to see that more of these white specks are falling. Luka looked up as well as Sodom and Yuki. “Waaah!” Sodom said gleefully. “It’s snow!” He came from behind Luka and started reaching up for it like a child to the pyreflies. Yuki smiled as his eyes widened. “... Well what do you you know.” Luka said. “I guess we’re going to have another White Christmas.” “I ... Suppose that means snow on that day?” I couldn’t take my eyes off as I saw more and more fall down. It truly felt like I was in a globe of snow that I saw down in the markets here ... Albeit, this was real. I had wondered what the unusual chill was from that came today. It wasn’t as frostbitten as the cold icy snows in Infernus. It felt more serene.

Yuki looked towards my direction as he saw me still gazing above. He couldn’t help but smile calmly, possibly thinking that I looked like the child I was back then. Curious, wondering, and yet longing for something. ”Merry Christmas, Luze” he said suddenly. I looked down again as I realized how long I was staring when I felt my neck was about to strain. I smiled one more time at him and nodded slowly.

“... Merry Christmas as well, Yuki.”

#Unheard Words #Precious Light #Luze #Luze Crosszeria #Yuki #Yuki Giou #Uraboku #Uragiri wa Boku no Namae wo Shitteiru #Betrayal Knows My Name #Christmas #Holidays

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thejustmaiden · 4 years

Note

I believe one of the reasons why Sunrise did not reveal the mother of the twins is because she's not Rin, but a new character that has yet to be revealed. Do you think Sessrin fans worldwide will be disappointed and drop the show if their ship isn't canon? Because i've seem so many Sessrin fans preaching their ship like it's a religion and throwing the word "canon" everywhere (especially on twitter). I'd love to hear your opinions, they're always so enlightening! Keep up with the good work!

Hey there, nonnie! Thanks for the kind words. 😁

So here's what I think!

Yes, I agree for the most part that a lot of Sessrin shippers like to go and preach their ship is canon. I'm sick and tired of these particular fans instigating drama and harassing others over it when nothing has even been confirmed yet. But say Sessrin does go canon and we look back at this period with the oh so fond memories. haha Would anyone say that their kind of behavior was justified at the time? Does predicting right and "winning" absolve someone of wrongdoing? Hell no, past actions like this should never be acceptable- canon or no canon.

And no, I don't believe this will stop these shippers from tuning in. Based on everything I've heard around, I'd say that in general most Sessrin fans still plan to watch the sequel regardless of their ship going canon.

On the opposite side, I have noticed that almost the majority of antis (including myself) have stated that they would very likely not watch this sequel if they plan to make Sessrin happen. For a lot of us, it's a deal breaker. This is why it would be awful nice of them to just save us all the trouble and tell us who the damn mom is already! Or at least say/imply it's not Rin. Like I prefer not to be dragged along until the very end, thank you very much!

Now don't get me wrong, there are some Sessrin fans out there who would most definitely not take kindly to the idea of someone other than Rin being the mom. I wouldn't really blame them for their frustration either, since none of us should've had to wait as long as we have so far to find out who the mom is. The fanbaiting at this point has reached new heights and has made the wait that much more excruciating. Sunrise's trolling isn't however the only problem.

It worries me that simply voicing an opinion gets you attacked in this fandom these days (proof that fiction does affect real lives on both sides). It doesn't matter how politely you're making an argument, they'll gang up on you anyway. All antis like myself are attempting to do is shine a light on the serious issue that is child grooming by stating that this norm shouldn't be normal anymore. Nobody is telling anyone to stop liking or believing in a ship, so I wish they would stop saying we are.

The portrayals we put on our screens for our children need to mirror real life to a certain degree, and that would depend on the sensitivity/maturity of the content presented. That's not to say fiction needs to be super realistic and void of imagination- can you imagine how dull that would be? What I mean is that all of us in our respective societies should do a better job at enforcing and placing age-approriate themes into our stories. If you're a fan of this popular "older man falls in love with younger girl when she turns of age" trope, nobody is necessarily faulting you for that. (Judging you, perhaps, but that doesn't mean we don't respect you.) All we're saying is that this type of romantic pairing should be limited to mature audiences, as the grooming implications are too strong to risk exposing young ones to.

We all must accept that there are just some particular relationship dynamics that walk a fine line between what is considered "normal" and what is considered "dangerous." When you really think about it, shouldn't this line that separates the two be bold instead of thin? That's the downside of fiction- it's capable of blurring said line and making harmful images not look so bad when put in a different light. And careful, context matters but only to an extent. So these are the questions we should be asking ourselves: How do we live in a time where sexualizing young girls is still a part of the status quo? Where it's so normalized that too many of us don't even bat an eye? The sad thing is, is that these acts are not only normalized but glorified too.

On that note, I'd say the majority of us antis have good intentions. Nobody is claiming we're perfect, but more times than not our anger and disgust lately has to do with the condescending and ugly attitude of some Sessrin shippers more so than with the actual ship itself. We're also dumbfounded as to why anyone would dare fight us on the subject of child abuse. Why would any sane person want to stop us from fighting to protect children? We all should be on the same side of this issue even if we aren't for the ship. This is bigger than fandoms and shipping, this is about the safety and well-being of our children watching- past, present, and future. That is the most important takeaway! But until we can all acknowledge the real impact fiction has on our kids, making progress won't come easy and it'll be a near impossible ordeal unless we all come together.

Hope that I helped address your concerns, nonnie. Wishing you a beautiful day/evening/night wherever it is you may be!! ✌

P.S. I would never assume to know who the mom is, but if I had to make an educated guess then I'd probably predict it's a new character we have yet to meet too, nonnie!

#inuyasha #hanyo no yashahime #anti sessrin #anonymous asks #answered ask

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merbabekelsey · 4 years

Text

I wanted to know the results of other people’s mental health since the pandemic started. So I did what any intelligent, bored, and currently ill pandemic survivor would do and did some research! I imagined it wouldn’t be positive but my primary goal here is to positively raise awareness to my fellow humans to help change these negative results. Lately, I’ve heard of so so soooo many people depressed (including myself and even people I never would’ve imagined being depressed...are currently depressed). I am enlightened and sad by the realization that this is not only a pandemic due to Covid-19, but also a mental health pandemic.

The CDC says, “Elevated levels of adverse mental health conditions, substance use, and suicidal ideation were reported by adults in the United States in June 2020. The prevalence of symptoms of anxiety disorder was approximately three times those reported in the second quarter of 2019 (25.5% versus 8.1%), and prevalence of depressive disorder was approximately four times that reported in the second quarter of 2019 (24.3% versus 6.5%) (2). However, given the methodological differences and potential unknown biases in survey designs, this analysis might not be directly comparable with data reported on anxiety and depression disorders in 2019 (2). Approximately one quarter of respondents reported symptoms of a TSRD related to the pandemic, and approximately one in 10 reported that they started or increased substance use because of COVID-19. Suicidal ideation was also elevated; approximately twice as many respondents reported serious consideration of suicide in the previous 30 days than did adults in the United States in 2018, referring to the previous 12 months (10.7% versus 4.3%) (6).” “To reduce potential harms of increased substance use related to COVID-19, resources, including social support, comprehensive treatment options, and harm reduction services, are essential and should remain accessible. Periodic assessment of mental health, substance use, and suicidal ideation should evaluate the prevalence of psychological distress over time. Addressing mental health disparities and preparing support systems to mitigate mental health consequences as the pandemic evolves will continue to be needed urgently.”

Mayo Clinic lists the symptoms of depression:

“Although depression may occur only once during your life, people typically have multiple episodes. During these episodes, symptoms occur most of the day, nearly every day and may include: Feelings of sadness, tearfulness, emptiness or hopelessness, Angry outbursts, irritability or frustration, even over small matters, Loss of interest or pleasure in most or all normal activities, such as sex, hobbies or sports, Sleep disturbances, including insomnia or sleeping too much, Tiredness and lack of energy, so even small tasks take extra effort. Reduced appetite and weight loss or increased cravings for food and weight gain, Anxiety, agitation or restlessness, Slowed thinking, speaking or body movements, feelings of worthlessness or guilt, fixating on past failures or self-blame, Trouble thinking, concentrating, making decisions and remembering things, Frequent or recurrent thoughts of death, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempts or suicide, Unexplained physical problems, such as back pain or headaches. For many people with depression, symptoms usually are severe enough to cause noticeable problems in day-to-day activities, such as work, school, social activities or relationships with others. Some people may feel generally miserable or unhappy without really knowing why.”

The CDC and Mayo Clinic’s articles regarding depression were interesting reads (link for the cdc link is attached if you want to read the whole thing). If you or someone you know is struggling with mental health through this pandemic, please don’t hesitate to message me and I will give you support and resources. You aren’t alone. If you’re not comfortable with that, please call the suicide prevention hotline: 1-800-273-8255 or SAMHSA (Substance Abuse and Mental Heath Services Administration): 1-800-662-4357 for assistance. If you’re not comfortable with that or you feel it isn’t an emergency and you want other support and resources, you’re welcome to contact a wonderful non-profit agency in Elkhart: Saving Grace Advocacy, Monday through Friday from 9am to 1pm at (574) 293-0482.

These are real statistics, in really dark times for our whole world.

Please check on your friends near and far. Muffle a kind greeting through the mask at the store, work, or wherever you go if you feel safe to do so. A simple message, text, or video chat with someone could mean more than you know to someone. Encourage hope. Support healing. Engage in life. Embrace positivity since we can’t embrace each other. Embody and send positive vibes. Promote creativity. Enjoy the moments. Take nothing for granted. Love compassionately. Be generous. Uplift when you can and get inspired when you need it most. Stay healthy inside and out.

Most of all...

Know that you’re never alone despite how things may feel but also know safe boundaries and reach out for help when you need it.

🤗

-Kelsey

#mental health #mentalhealthawareness #pandemic #covid2020 #coronavirus #depression #anxiety #suicideprevention #humanity #onelove #compassion #cdcgov #cdc

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enkisstories · 4 years

Text

The CyberLife app - Install today

One dark and dreary night during the android revolution of 2038, an RK800 android infiltrated the headquarter of the deviant androids. It delivered the unconscious deviant leader and his followers to the FBI, represented by one Richard Perkins.

“You knocked it out?” Perkins prodded. “Strange… our profile says you’re more agile than actually strong.“

“No, North knocked him out”, RK800 corrected the assumption.

“Wow. Their infighting must be worse than we anticipated. Neat!”

“Actually, no”, the RK800 said. “This isn’t quite how it happened.”

And the android remembered…

Earlier the same day, at the Detroit Central Police station:

“I could swear it’s a deviant!” Gavin Reed repeated for the perhaps tenth time today. “That’s not normal, it going…”

“Looooook”, Tina Chen interrupted her friend, “if you are worried THAT much, just ask Hank to check Connor’s status in the CyberLife app.”

“That’s bulls… no, actually it’s not a bad idea”, Gavin conceded.

The “wanted for [insert crime]” and “missing our android, the kids are devasted, large finder’s fee!” notices were piling up at the DPD, something that shouldn’t have been possible, because every android came with an app that among other things tracked the damn things 24/7. But for some obscure reasons the tracking function failed when the android in question had went deviant. So if Connor was still showing up in the app… admittedly it could also mean that he had hacked the phone the little program was running on. But even so checking the app was a good start.

However, Hank only gave the two younger officers a blank stare when they inquired about the app.

“I haven’t got the fuggiest idea what you are talking about.”

“The CyberLife app! Come on, now! Everyone has it installed – Chris, Tina, me… it’s essential for managing your android, whether you bought it or got saddled with it as a product sample.”

“Uh-uh. That shit isn’t going anywhere near my phone”, Hank noped out.

But at least, the other two realized, he had confirmed to own a smartphone. Even Chris Miller, who was holding Hank Anderson in great regard, bordering on hero-worship, had come to doubt whether his idol bothered with owning such a devilish piece of modern technology.

“You want to tell me we have no means of controlling the new android?!” Gavin exploded. “Even if it’s a temporary loan only, we should have it registered in our equipment database!”

“Ah, should we? That’s nice…” Hank replied non-committally.

“You… you…” Gavin sputtered.

“The word you’re looking for is “You useless sack o’shit that will polish my snout if I do not go pester someone else RIGHT NOW””, Hank said, going from cheerfully-helpful to a low, threatening growl.

A minute later Gavin stormed Captain Fowler’s office, demanding the control codes for the RK800 android.

“I’ve mailed those to Hank”, the Captain started, before understanding dawned. “I’ve… mailed… them to… Hank. Oh, right. I see.” The sentence included to words that were utterly incompatible: Lieutenant Anderson and reading his own e-mails. With a nod and a few clicks Fowler forwarded the e-mail to Gavin’s work account. “There you go! Anything else?”

“Nah, nothing. Thanks.”

The Captain shook his head. Hank and Gavin! Android haters both of them, only Hank wanted the machines gone, poof into nothingness as if they’d never existed, while Gavin was mainly feeling threatened in his job-security and perceived awesomeness.

Much to Gavin’s dismay entering Connor into the database didn’t produce irregularities of any kind. That annoying, ugly thing was stable as fuck. But if there were no grounds for returning it to Cyberlife, maybe the situation could still work in Gavin’s favor…?

“This, Tina”, the man said with a grin while loading the CyberLife app on his own phone, “is where the fun begins! First we call over our new device…”

One push of a button and thirty seconds later Connor reported for service.

“Cute”, Tina said, then leaned over to get a good look at Gavin’s phone screen. “Can you make it follow wherever you point the phone? That would be kinda cool.”

“No”, Gavin answered, the same split-second Connor protested with a louder “No!”.

“But even so… let’s put it into customization mode!”

This time Connor only came to utter the “N” of “No” before he stiffened, awaiting the changes the program would force onto him by the will of his (temporary) legitimate owners.

“What the fuck, I cannot change that visage? On a detective android that might need to infiltrate locations?” Gavin wondered. “Stupid prototype! Okay, next is… ah, right. The damn voice.”

“RK800’s voice has been carefully selected to generate positive feelings and a warm welcome into any workplace situation”, the CyberLife app chattered away. “It is considered ideal. Are you sure you want to change the voice now? Y/N”

“Yes!” Tina called, grabbing the phone from Gavin’s hands. She circled through several voices before she selected one. “Perfect! And now the name… Connor is the default, time to change that!”

Gavin watched with interested what would happen next.

With a subtle “whirr” the RK800 android returned from maintenance mode.

“I am Ferdinand von Aegir!“ he proclaimed, a phrase that made Tina explode with laughter. “The android sent by Cyberlife. And you are silly.”

“Yes, yes! Do it again!”

When Connor von Aegir wasn’t inclined to do Tina’s bidding, the officer pushed the “test” button in the app. Promptly Connor went “I am Ferdinand von Aegir” again.

“That’s a meme?” Gavin asked.

“Haha, yes! Or it used to be one when we were teens. But you never were much of a gamer, huh?”

Tina handed the phone back. “You next!” she prompted her friend.

Predictably Gavin changed “Ferdinand”’s name to “Dipshit” and also made ample use of the test-button. Only when Hank came ‘round the corner, shouting for the “stupid, useless sardine tin”, did the duo revert the voice change. Gavin also typed something new into the name box that Tina could not see.

The android no longer going by “Connor” didn’t come to light anytime soon, because Hank had a rich pool of casual insults for it that could be used instead of an individual name.

Until RK800 found itself on the lower deck of the freighter “Jericho”, facing the deviant leader…

Markus slowly turned around when he heard footsteps approach. He beheld the RK800 in its disguise and heard it say in its upbeat voice: “I am Your Daddy. Submit and follow me!”

“Is that a joke?!” Markus sputtered.

“No, this is very serious. I am Your Daddy, the android sent by Cyberlife…”

“That’s, uh, nice of Cyberlife. Yes, I really appreciate the gesture…”

This is probably meant as a distraction technique to throw me off? the deviant leader wondered. Out loud he said: “I’m an off-brand imitator product though. Not from Cyberlife.”

“I was instructed to bring you alive!” Connor chirped.

Markus hesitated. “By the person who named you?” he asked very carefully.

“No.”

“Ah, good!” Markus said with visible relief. “Well, maybe you and me can come to an understanding of a less… sensual nature?”

Ten minutes later Markus introduced the RK800 to his friends:

“Hey, guys, this here is a new recruit. New one – meet North! North – meet Your Daddy!”

And that was the last thing Markus said for quite some time, because North punched him so hard that he temporarily shut down.

Back in the present the captured deviants were still squabbling amongst each other, despite standing with their hands behind their heads and lined up for transport to the recycling yards.

“That’s not fair!” an android wearing the old Cyberlife standard face protested, at which Perkins snapped “Shut up, tin can!“, but the blonde android retorted that he hadn’t been talking to the human, but to North.

“It really wasn’t fair of you”, the android addressed North. “Yes, you and Markus have been drifting apart and I admit in part this happened because of me, but even though your couple thing wouldn’t work out, he always had you in his mind. It was so kind of Markus to find you a new boyfriend, but what did you do? Punch him!”

This one, Perkins concluded, must be a BL100, a “perfect partner”. Even after deviating and in the face of getting scrapped it was still obsessing about relationships. Oh, well, that would be Cyberlife’s problem in a few minutes, no longer his.

“Okay, that should wrap tonight’s operation up”, Perkins nodded. “Connor, was it?”

“Ah, no, actually I am Your Worst Nightmare Motherfucker… what the hell? Oh, no, they must be playing with the app again! I’m sorry, I…”

“You aren’t my worst nightmare, then?” Perkins sneered.

Already the man’s fingers were twitching, ready to draw his service pistol at this unpredictable prototype. It had served its purpose, after all.

“Then enlighten me, who or what are you?”

RK800 opened its mouth the exact same moment Gavin and Tina at the DPD were cracking up over another idea for a cool name that had just occurred to them. “I am A Deviant”, he said. “What? No I’m not! I am C… R… A Deviant! A Deviant! Oh, shit…”

There was no time to explain, because Perkins had already hissed “Should have known!” and opened fire. Simon, Josh, North and A Deviant dived for cover, dragging the unconscious Markus with them.

And the rest is history.

#dbh #detroit become human #non sims #dbhtextpost

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silverhczel · 4 years

Text

( emilia clarke, 29, female, she/her, nephilim, templar ) It’s been a while since we’ve seen HAZEL WARREN. I hear they’re a NEPHILIM, and they reside on the WESTSIDE. They’re known to frequent THE WINGED CHALICE (when they’re not busy with TRAINING) and have made a place at 12 LUKE COTTAGE. Some may say they act ARROGANT & HASTY, while others claim they are COMPASSIONATE & DEVOTED. With that being said, they’ve found the State of Calamity.

BIO

hazel was born into a wealthy family in london, her mother was the daughter of a successful businessman who also had a good share of inherited wealth and they longed for nothing. when her mother was twenty, she almost took the path to ruin after living a life dictated by god and focused on the purity of morals. In order to stop the corruption of her soul, after a fling with her ex-boyfriend she became pregnant, unaware the child in her womb had been touched by an angel. the pregnancy made her see the light of the righteous path and she gave birth to a daughter with silver hair, unaware of how her daughter really came to be. hazel’s childhood was wealthy and happy, she was adored by her mother and grandparents. as she grew older, she started to notice how some things were not right, she could not understand why her family had so much and others so little, or why some people were so cruel and corrupt. when she discovered her own grandfather was a ruthless businessman using questionable tactics and exploiting those with much less, she started fighting against her lifestyle. she refrained from buying expensive things and clothes, she started giving to charity and volunteering her time, she tried to change her grandfather’s mind, but it was all in vain. at the age of eighteen, she left her home and cut ties to her family who she saw as corrupt and uncaring. sometimes hazel felt confused why she seemed to feel so strongly about what was wrong and right when most people did not seem to care much, they spoke of greyzones, but hazel saw everything in black and white, either something was good or neutral — or it was evil.

one morning a few days after her nineteen birthday, she woke up a new person. finally hazel understood her purpose, why she was wired the way she was and she knew where she needed to go. she packed what few belongings she owned and headed to silver city, hazel quickly found a place among her own kind and it became clear that the life of a templar was right for her. she found meaning in fighting for the light and destroying the darkness wherever she could. she was quick and strong, she took training very seriously, often the first there and the last to leave. as she developed her skill as a fighter, she began to purge the city from evil and sin as much she could. she went after lesser dark creatures who tortured or killed humans or those of her own kind, she earned herself the nickname ‘the vigilante’ as she acted on her own. hazel has made many enemies, but she believes her true purpose in life is to defeat evil wherever she sees it. whenever she is not training or dealing justice, she enjoys playing the harp, diving into books about philosophy and psychology. she is a master archer and takes pride in horning her skills.

tl;dr: hazel was born into wealth and privilege to a mother that almost strayed from the righteous path, despite her odd appearance with natural silver hair, she grew up happy until she started questioning why she had so much and others so little. after uncovering corruption in her family, she fled her family home. at the age of nineteen, she became enlightened and journeyed to the silver city to join those of her own kind. hazel quickly discovered the warrior lifestyle was for her and she became a templar, she has begun dealing her own justice as she travels through the city, destroying lesser evil creatures as she comes into contact with them. she is known as the vigilante.

RELIGION

hazel believes in one god, a deity simply referred to as god, but she assumes no gender nor does she believe any of the mortal scriptures are actually connected to god. she believes in living a life almost stripped of sin as dictated by the seven deadly sins, those she believes comes directly from god. with age, she has begun to see the zones of grey she did not before, but she is still steadfast in her belief that a near sinless life is the only true way to live. she believes in the forgiving nature of god and will try to save others, but if they cross the line into the territory of evil, she will know there is nothing more to be done and will seek to destroy instead.

EXTRA

myers briggs personality: the defender (isfj)

alignment: lawful good

hogwarts house: a hufflepuff & gryffindor mix

sun sign: capricorn

ennegram: six ‘the loyalist’

FACTS/HEADCANONS

her natural silver hair is unusual, it can be mistaken for platinum blonde but there are undertones of silver in it, sometimes she will wear a brunette wig if she wants to blend in

hazel speaks with a faint posh british accent but never tells anyone where she is from exactly due to her mother still being alive

she is a health nut that refuses to partake in any unhealthy vices

she is always well-armed but does not engage in fights unless she believes there to be a righteous and just reason for doing so

hazel is known as one of the most loyal templars, she is very protective of the silver city and its inhabitants

she is sometimes referred to as ‘the vigilante’

OPEN PLOTS/CONNECTIONS

feel free to message me on discord about any of these connections! i’m open to plotting about anything, so if you have an idea that’s not on here, please message me anyway and we can have a chat <3

an old friend: someone she has known since arriving in the city (they could still be friends or it could have been a human/light friend turned bad/dark)

her right-hand: someone who is loyal to her and loyal to fighting for light and justice (does not necessarily have to be angelic)

an unusual friendship: a bond between her and someone who you would not think could be friend with an angelic (must not be too bad or too dark as hazel would not befriend someone who regularly kills or tortures for fun)

foes: dark creatures (especially vampires, demons and the fallen) that she has been fighting for years

#( bio. )

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admiralty-xfd · 5 years

Text

Culmination

This is Chapter 5. To start at the beginning please click here.

ANTICIPATION

SCULLY

(The Rain King)

A bee had ruined their moment, and now a cow was bringing them a bit of honesty.

They are in Kroner, Kansas. The unfortunate animal had been caught in a tornado caused by the pent-up emotional frustrations of one Holman Hardt, and Mulder’s motel room had been the main casualty. With no more rooms available, he and Scully have been forced to share her room.

This has happened before a few times and it’s never been an issue. A broken shower here, a booked up motel there, Mulder on the pull-out couch, letting Scully take the bed. He’s always been respectful, and it’s never felt awkward.

This time, however, she feels a little strange about the whole thing. They still haven’t acknowledged that he’d tried to kiss her in his hallway. There was a line, a hard line that had always been present and he’d tried to cross it.

She’d wanted him to, badly, but he hasn’t attempted it again and now she’s starting to feel like he won’t. Like maybe the entire thing was a mistake, and they both know it.

She’s confused, and the longer they take to talk about it the more confused she gets.

You made me a whole person.

God, had he really said that? It was the single most romantic thing any man had ever said to her, and they aren’t even in a romantic relationship. She’ll never forget he said that to her. What is she supposed to do with that now?

They’re off the X Files, but that hasn’t stopped Mulder from pursuing every lead he has the good fortune to come across. And it hasn’t stopped her from getting in the car and following him wherever he goes. She knows she will always go with him. In spite of everything, she loves this work. It energizes her, excites her, especially in the face of all the scut work they’ve been reassigned to after getting kicked off the X Files. Background checks and surveillance are not her idea of an enlightening day at the office, not after all she’s seen.

Mostly though, she just misses Mulder. It’s weird not being his partner anymore. She misses his crazy theories and his sunflower seeds and his sexy gray T shirts.

This isn’t getting any easier, that’s for sure.

That near-kiss has changed something. She suspects why they haven’t mentioned it. Acknowledging it will force them to make a decision: go this way, or go that way. She’s not sure if that’s a better route than the one they seem to have chosen, which is to do nothing at all. But she also isn’t sure she’s ready to make that decision.

Her brain is telling her it’s stupid, they have too much riding on their partnership, they have to get the X Files back, and this could ruin everything.

But her heart is telling her without a doubt that she loves him, and not in the way she’d always thought she loved him. No… she loves him. Isn’t that worth something? Isn’t that more important than anything else?

She’s trying her hardest to convince herself otherwise.

If he hasn’t made a move since the bee fiasco, he probably doesn’t feel the same way. She has to believe this, because she has no other choice. There are a million reasons she can think of to explain why he tried to kiss her in that moment. Maybe he did it to make her stay. Maybe he was attempting to satisfy a curiosity. Maybe he got caught up in the moment. Maybe he’s just… a guy. Every one of these reasons is a more likely scenario than the one where he is in love with her too and everything suddenly becomes perfect.

They are not that lucky. She should be used to this disappointment by now.

But she has to admit something is definitely different. His honesty in the hallway that night was something she'd been waiting for, and she didn't even know it. And she’s having trouble denying there was something there. Something physical between them that she knows has always been there. What she felt with him in that moment was something even she wouldn’t need scientific evidence to prove.

He felt it, too, she’s certain of that much. If she isn’t quite sure of the emotional impact of what Mulder started that night, she definitely knows the physical. He’s always trying to touch her now, even more than before, and she’s noticed.

They’ve been dancing around this for years. And continuing in this limbo after experiencing what she felt in his hallway is making things awkward.

Making things like sharing a motel room awkward.

Right now, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed surrounded by local Kroner newspaper articles, poring over them with that ferocity she admires. It’s amazing how involved and animated he can get over every single one of these cases. Sometimes she can’t quite get there, but he always can, and it’s pretty remarkable. He’s trying to explain to her his theory of what’s causing the strange weather in Kroner.

“Maybe the way someone feels can affect the weather, maybe the weather is somehow an expression of Holman Hardt’s feelings? Or better still, the feelings that he’s not expressing?”

She’s skeptical, but what he’s saying does make a lot of sense. He’s probably right. Why does he always get to be right?

She doesn’t really know why, but she suddenly feels a tiny spark of courage. She has to know, she has to put it out there.

“Mulder, can I ask you something? Something unrelated to the case?”

He distractedly looks at the article he’s holding. “Yeah. Hmm?”

“A while back. Outside your apartment. In the hallway.”

He puts the article down and looks up at her. He rests his elbows on his knees, propping his chin up, and puts his index fingers together against his lips, his eyes daring her to continue.

“Mm-hmm?”

Suddenly she doesn’t know what to say. But now the cat’s out of the bag. “What was that about?”

He inhales, then exhales. “We’re doing this, I guess?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

He thinks a minute. “I don’t know, Scully.”

What was she thinking? Of course he’d say that. Why would she expect anything else? “You don’t know?”

“I’m not gonna lie, I wanted to do it.” His eyes search hers, and she wants to tell him she wanted him to, too, but her mouth has gone completely dry. “Something came over me… I did want to kiss you. I’m attracted to you, Scully. I am. I said it.”

Her heart is in her throat and she can’t reply. She stares at him, her face frozen.

He continues. “But… I was careless, I think… it would have been a mistake?”

He’s saying it as a question, like he’s feeling her out. She should have said something and she blew it. What the hell is she supposed to say to him now? She has to agree it would have been a mistake. He’s practically forcing her to.

He’s probably even right.

She has the distinct impression he’s waiting for her to give him permission to go for it. She really wants him to go for it but her mouth cannot form the words. God, why is she such a wimp? Why is he such a wimp? Why can’t they get their shit together? She wants to shake him. Hell, she wants to shake herself.

“You’re attracted to me?” is what she blurts out.

Oh, my God, where did that come from? How is this a thing that is happening? This is beyond embarrassing.

Mulder cocks his head and gives her a slight smile. “Is that a crime?”

He’s being so calm, so charming about all this, all she can do is smile back and raise a brow. “No. Not a prosecutable one, anyway.”

This is nothing too revelatory, if she's being honest. They both know the other is attractive. Saying it out loud is merely a baby step towards something else, something neither of them will step up to. She wishes she could tell him everything she’s feeling, but she can’t. This is not easy. Nothing is ever easy when it comes to the two of them.

But the way he’s looking at her has taken her so off guard she’s worried she’s losing the upper hand. For some reason that feels very important right now. Before she realizes what’s happening, she’s made the decision to retreat.

“But... you’re probably right. About it being a mistake.” She can’t be entirely certain but she thinks she sees a flash of disappointment in his eyes. “I mean,” she continues, “we probably shouldn’t let that kind of thing interfere with our partnership.”

He nods, smiling. His eyes don’t leave her own. “Probably shouldn’t,” he agrees slowly, tapping his fingertips against his bottom lip.

He’s doing that on purpose, she thinks. There’s definitely something here. We both feel it. She doesn’t know exactly what “it” entails, but it’s the sliver of hope she’s been waiting for. Maybe he’s been waiting for it, too. Their timing has never been the greatest.

He grins at her, and she grins back.

“It would be the wrong time to… pursue something like that, I think,” she says carefully. She’s toying with him right back. She knows it’s probably stupid but she does it anyway.

“Couldn’t agree with you more.”

“Right.”

His eyebrows go up. “I mean… it wouldn’t be the end of the world or anything, but… it would complicate things.”

“Uh huh.”

They are still grinning like idiots. They both know what’s going on. They wanted to kiss each other, and it’s brazenly obvious. Part of her wants to leap across the room and push him back down onto the bed, but another part of her thinks what they’re doing right now is actually kind of fun, too.

She can’t deny the irony of sitting in this shared motel room with the man she’s in love with, who may or may not be in love with her too, having just been discussing Holman Hardt’s inability to express his true feelings. She wonders if he’s thinking the same thing.

Like so many conversations between them, this one will end in a stalemate. But they’ve come to an understanding, a tiny one, that someday this could be in the cards for them.

Apparently there was a third option open to them: go this way, or that way... or this other way.

Huh.

“So.” He can’t stop smiling and it’s chipping away at her resolve. She has a sneaking suspicion they’re both fishing for something, but neither of them are biting. Neither of them will make the first move. They’re convincing themselves not to do something they both really want to do and she doesn’t want to forget the reasons they aren’t going to do it. Whatever the hell those reasons are. So she needs to put a stop to this, now.

“Well.” Scully stands up. “I’m going to take a shower. Can you move all this stuff off the bed before I get out?”

His eyes don’t leave hers as she stands. “Absolutely. You enjoy yourself,” he winks.

Okay, she thinks. I see what we’re doing here. This could be fun.

She smirks at him and turns around to head toward the bathroom, grateful he can’t see her face flush. Her stomach is full of butterflies.

They’ve backed themselves into a corner now. Something is going to happen at some point, there’s no avoiding it. They’ll both be anticipating it. And now that they know this, the tension is going to be agonizing. It’s going to be unbearable.

It’s going to be fucking hot.

As she undresses and gets into the shower, she can’t stop smiling. She thinks of Mulder smiling back, his eyes bright, looking into hers. Her partner. Her best friend. And now, just maybe, she can look forward to the possibility of something else too.

MULDER

(One Son/ Arcadia)

Ever since they’d had their little chat, Mulder has felt oddly at ease around Scully. It’s as if they’d both communicated something to each other that they already knew, but putting it out there has lifted a huge weight off their shoulders.

Although, it’s strange… it’s as if he’s been given permission to feel a certain way but not necessarily permission to act on those feelings. At least, not yet. He isn’t sure what to do about them, either. Just because they both sort of decided not to act on them doesn’t mean the feelings would disappear.

He wasn’t avoiding the topic either when he told her it wouldn’t be a good idea right now. He genuinely believes that. He and Diana were a couple before they’d become partners, and when they did, she became more of a distraction than anything else. It makes him uncomfortable to imagine the same thing happening with Scully.

He wasn’t able to get all the information he wanted from her that night, however. He wonders if it’s possible she just wants something physical, some release, a way to ease the tension of their work. And while he certainly isn’t opposed to that in theory, he wants more. He is opposed to sending her mixed messages about how he feels about her.

These feelings are different than the way he felt about Diana; he’s older now, and wiser. This could be something, really something, he can’t deny that. But he also can’t deny the possibility that pushing this relationship into nonprofessional territory could affect their work, or worse, their partnership in general. If they change, everything could change. He’s not sure he wants that, at least not right now.

And Diana… where the hell is she, anyway? He’s a bit ashamed of how easily the cancer man got to him, convinced him to just give up. And then he and Diana both just disappeared.

Is it a coincidence? He hopes so. It’s not that he doesn’t want Scully to be right about Diana. He just doesn’t want to be wrong about her. Diana had almost completely left his mind until the moment she decided to enter his life again. That’s how it always was with her, she’d decide. Her decision. It had never been about them, just her.

She even called him Fox, because she liked it. Fox, she still says. Like none of the times he asked her not to ever even mattered. He hadn’t told Scully the whole truth… that the real reason he doesn’t want her calling him Fox is because it’s what Diana called him.

You knew her. You don’t anymore.

Scully’s words had gone right to his core. He really doesn’t know Diana anymore. The Diana he knew wouldn’t abandon the X Files like that. She’d abandon him, of course, but not the work. Never the work.

He’s disappointed in himself for shrugging off Scully’s concerns so quickly. He’d interpreted her digging up information on Diana behind his back as a betrayal of his judgment, when he should have suspected she was simply being territorial; the two of them tended to do that with each other from time to time.

But still, he’d closed himself off to her very valid concerns. He’d allowed old feelings to come rushing back and he’d become guilty of the very thing he had tried to avoid for so long: blind trust.

Without the FBI, personal interest is all I have. And if you take that away, then there is no reason for me to continue.

Scully was right, and he should have listened. He should have known better. He feels guilty now for making her feel that way. Six years into their partnership and he trusts Scully more than anyone he’s ever known… certainly more than Diana. How had he let Diana get to him this time? Even before, this was how she’d always operated. She was a manipulator. And he’d fallen for it again.

Well, Diana is out of their hair now. It’s not like he’s surprised at her sudden retreat. She’s done it before.

Right now he only wants to think of Scully. One day he will have to tell her how he feels about her. But for the moment, he hesitates. They are in the midst of starting back on the X Files and throwing in a new wrinkle wouldn’t be wise at this juncture.

There’s definitely something dark and mysterious afoot in this suburban neighborhood. He’s not sure if they are in actual danger yet, but his hunches about these cases have always been fairly accurate and he’s definitely feeling one now.

He does know this perfectly manicured house might just give him hives if they have to stay here much longer.

Mulder hasn’t been on many undercover assignments and he isn’t a great actor, so instead he’s just decided to be himself and annoy Scully endlessly with over-the-top affection. He likes hearing her say the “exasperated” version of his name, at least when they are alone. But it seems like she’s having a bit of fun at his expense, too.

He’s in the bedroom next door to Scully’s, and he’s having trouble falling asleep. There’s only a thin wall between them. He can visualize the master bedroom and knows her head is on the other side of it, mere inches from his. It’s oddly exciting.

He knocks on the wall behind him. “Scully? I can’t sleep.”

Her voice is muffled, probably face down on her pillow. “I don’t know what to tell you, Mulder.”

“Will you sing to me?”

“No.”

“Come on, you did before.”

“Only because you were dying, or something.”

“Can I come in there?”

“Muuuuulderrrrr. I’m trying to sleep.”

“So am I! You’re not going to help out your fake husband?”

“Oh my god. Fine.” Ah, Exasperated Scully.

He chuckles and grabs his pillow. Rounding the door jamb and entering her room, he flops down on the king sized bed next to her.

“Mulder! What are you doing?”

“Ooh, your bed is comfy. The mattress is better than mine.”

She sighs, loudly. He can tell, even in the dark, that she’s rolling her eyes. “Stay on your side.”

“Are we in a fight, Laura?”

He hears her laugh and is reassured he hasn’t made her uncomfortable.

She sighs. “Why can’t I ever say no to you?”

“Because it’s your wifely duty?”

She playfully swats at him. “I’m serious, Mulder.”

“Okay, okay.” He gets under the covers and settles his head on his pillow, looking at the ceiling, shamelessly giddy to be sleeping next to her tonight. He has no idea how that happened, but here they are.

He hears her take a deep breath. “What’s wrong, Mulder? Why can’t you sleep?”

He doesn’t know. “I don’t know.”

They lay there quietly together for a minute.

“Scully, is this really what you want to be doing?”

“What, trying to sleep with you hogging the covers?”

He releases some of his covers for her and flips onto his side. “I mean working on the X Files.” It’s something he’s been wondering since the day she almost walked out on him at his apartment.

“Of course it is,” she says. “I think… regardless of how it may appear sometimes, this is where I’m meant to be. On this journey, with you.”

“I do think about the alternative sometimes,” he admits.

“What alternative?”

“You, being somewhere else. Doing something else. This... place has got me thinking. About what you said about wanting a normal life.” He thinks of a car ride in Groom Lake, Scully looking out the window wistfully, him not really taking her too seriously. Maybe he should have.

“Really? You think about that?”

“Not because I want you to be somewhere else. It’s just… well, being stuck down in the basement isn’t exactly a career objective. You should be my boss by now, Scully.”

She laughs. “I wonder what I’d let you get away with if that were the case.”

“I wonder.”

He hears her shift in the bed and now they are facing each other. “I don’t know, Mulder. Maybe you were right when you said this is normal. Maybe it is, at least it is for you and me.”

You and me. He likes the sound of that when she says it.

“I’d hate to think you were changing your definition of normal because of me,” he says.

“I meant what I said after they reopened the X Files. My work is here now, with you.” Her hand is reaching out, looking for his. She finds his forearm and slides her hand up to find his in the dark, and as she closes her fingers around his, he squeezes back. He feels a jolt of electricity, like he usually does when they do this, and is keenly aware that they are in bed together, inches apart, holding hands. It feels so intimate, but so comfortable.

“This is where I want to be, Mulder. I promise.”

He hadn’t realized how much he wanted to hear her say that until the words came out of her mouth. It’s a relief, they are finally back where they need to be, and she wants to be here with him.

“I’m glad to hear that, Scully.”

It’s taking every ounce of his willpower not to pull her into him. For a million reasons he can think of, primarily that what they’re currently doing is already an extremely inappropriate flouting of Bureau regulations, he doesn’t.

He knows even that’s a lie because since when does he give a shit about the rules?

The real reason is that he’s afraid. Afraid of what it will mean, of where it will lead, of possible rejection, of consequences, all of the above.

While he’s pondering this she makes the decision for him, turning her back to him and scooting her body into his until he’s spooning her from behind. His stomach flutters and he prays to the God he doesn’t believe in that his body doesn’t react the way it wants to. In any case, she doesn’t seem to mind. She exhales deeply, contented.

“Goodnight, Rob.”

He grins. “Good night, Laura.”

They fall asleep like little baby cats.

Thanks for reading! See you back tomorrow with Chapter Six.

#txf #msr #the x files #fanfic #fanfiction #msr fanfic #mulder and scully #the rain king #arcadia #culmination

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heliosphoenix · 6 years

Text

The sky calls to us

There’s a reason I keep a separate blog where I choose to chime in on some political happening or other. It’s something I take great care in doing. It’s easy to get it wrong (and in my younger days, I often did get it wrong), so I have to make an effort to get my ducks in a row. Even so, it’s nominally something I try to avoid whenever possible, which is why in my srs business blog’s early days, I was focused more on fandom drama.

The problem though is that now it’s become impossible to avoid. I know there are those of you out there who resent the incursion of real world events onto your tumblr feed, or the Twitter’s or Facebook’s of your favorite celebs. I do as well. I personally would rather talk about anything else and I’m willing to bet they would love to do the same.

But the world has become so volatile now that it can no longer be avoided. And despite the fact that I had literally gone two months without touching this site, even I couldn’t stand idly by while all of us, every lover of freedom wherever it may exist in the world, were being set up the bomb.

To say the last 48 hours have been surreal is an understatement. But not entirely surprising.

We resent the incursion of these events onto our feeds because we want the internet to be our shelter from it all. I’m here to tell you that it was irrational to think the internet would be immune.

When the world has decided that compromise is for losers and the only thing that matters is to win at any cost, then it stands to reason that the internet will follow along.

Unless it’s leading the way. And in many respects, it’s leading the way.

So where do we go from here? When I say I haven’t touched this site in some time, it’s not exactly a statement of pride. I won’t lie to you all when I say it’s been hard for me to work up the effort to browse the internet these days. If you went back 15 years or so and told my adolescent self, the 7th grade kid who knew what memes were a full 5-6 years before his classmates did, that there’d come a point in time where he’d want to hide from the internet? He’d call you insane.

Part of the reason I’ve avoided this site is because of the self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head that resulted in the censoring of many blogs I followed (as well as one I ran). But the other part is that I find I no longer have the energy to engage in the sort of thing that passes for “discourse” here like I did in the past. While it is still my desire, if not my duty, to talk with you all with some candor about what is happening in the world today, I’m rather disenchanted by the prospect of posting an article that gives an update on Brexit proceedings or the state of the Russia investigation and coming back to find sizzling hot takes in my notes that make me want to pay a visit to Comrade Smirnoff.

And I’ll be honest. The prospect of staring down a smug faced Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin as they win re-election and continue to be worshiped by the assholes of the world isn’t exactly appealing to me either.

Any potential benefits of going back to discussing fandom drama don’t really seem that attractive either. My years in furrydom sapped my capacity for fandom politics long ago. I spoke out in favor of bronies because I could see through the lies and manipulations and it got to a point where I said all that a person could reasonably say on the matter. Considering the success of the show and that the public image of the fandom has improved, I’d like to think my efforts were a success.

I don’t know enough about the other fandoms making waves right now to offer an opinion, and frankly I’m not inclined to engage. I saw the remastered Star Wars trilogy when I was 7 years old. I went to midnight showings for every movie that’s come out since (even the prequels). I would much prefer to discuss the merits of the new movies with my local group of friends instead of coming on here and writing a 1,000 word dissertation on The Last Jedi that would ultimately end up with me getting dragged into an ad-hominem laden argument with 3 other users.

I see some of my esteemed comrades still have the energy for that. Alas, I am no longer that strength which in old days moved heaven and Earth.

Speaking of which: Elite Dangerous.

Elite Dangerous is, as I describe it, a Space MMO. Set in a 1:1 scale recreation of the Milky Way galaxy that is based on actual astronomical data and scientific principles.

It’s the closest I’ve ever truly gotten, and may ever truly get, to being the captain of a Spaceship.

A trip out to the Robin’s Egg nebula envelopes you in a sea of gas, tinted blue by the light of a Blue White Supergiant just passing into adolescence. The nebula is home to a sea of young Red Dwarfs, small rocky bodies, ringed planets who’s metal surface is more of a sea of lava, and even a small Black Hole.

But it’s not just a recreational trip, you’re here at the behest of a scientist who’s willing to pay you a lot of credits to fly out to this stellar nursery. Once complete, you head back to your Space Station in Geosync orbit around Earth. A station named after Abraham Lincoln, as one does when naming starports. You drop your passengers off, get your next assignment, and you’re off to another star system 20 light years away.

The internet is able to get away with a lot, namely because underneath all the memes and controversy and drama are a bunch of people (mainly millennials) who occasionally make some money when their video of them yelling about a bad movie or winning victory royale hits a certain number of views on YouTube. It gets away with a lot because fandoms are real, living, vibrant communities that you can feel whenever you go to a convention or post in the appropriate tags.

In Elite Dangerous, you go into the game not expecting much. And you’re frequently rewarded by visiting strange new worlds that you never thought could’ve existed.

There’s a group of trolls in the game, they seek to cause as much mayhem and chaos as possible because they’re upset that the vibe of Elite Dangerous is not what they want it to be. It’s not the bitterly nostalgic vibe of Valve games, or the hyper competitive alpha vibe of Overwatch or Call of Duty. It’s certainly not the paranoid warmongering vibe of EvE online.

Elite Dangerous is a bunch of people exploring the galaxy.

And, I dunno, I feel that as a culture, a society, a civilization, and a species, maybe we could eventually work our way up to that.

Maybe not.

There’s a system in Elite known simply as “The View.” 1400 light years away from Earth, it contains a ringed planet orbiting around a Blue-White star younger than the ones in Robin’s Egg. If you set down near the pole of this planet, you get a great view of the rings, as well as a Pulsar and, if you’re lucky, two Black Holes.

When you venture out further, you see many wondrous sights.

A planet covered in water with massive ice sheets at the poles in an almost comical inversion of the future predicted by those fighting climate change.

Binary stars close enough that trying to shoot the gap nearly burns your spaceship to a crisp.

Worlds with magnificent ring systems that put Saturn’s to shame.

Pulsars with massive jets that swirl and twist like cosmic tornadoes.

And those are just the procedurally generated bodies. Stars and planets and others placed where they are because computer models based on hard science said they should be there.

Still plenty of room for real life celestial bodies. Like VY Canis Majoris, one of the largest stars in the galaxy.

Or Jupiter and the Galilean moons.

Or the Black Hole V404 Cygni.

The experience of Elite Dangerous is truly otherworldly, the kind of thing that ingrains itself in your mind and will not leave. The game is unnervingly beautiful not just because of its technical prowess, but because of what it can inspire.

Right now, this is just a video game, but there’s still the chance that there’s beauty in this galaxy that is not only unseen but completely unthinkable. Without Elite, it would be literally unimaginable.

It’s this inspiration that pushes me forward, that drives me in my attempt to help enlighten those around me, even if at times it feels the struggle will soon be lost.

This could be our future, but the only way to get there is together.

Somewhere out there in a sea of 400 Billion stars is a world just like this one.

We owe it to ourselves to give our descendants a chance to visit. Just in case it turns out to be Equestria.

#personal

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bigskydreaming · 6 years

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Hey you know what’s really funny, in that not at all, actually hey these priorities are kinda fucked, kinda way?

What’s hilarious is how people are more accepting of the sexualization of kids’ shows than they are of the social criticism of kids’ shows.

No, I’m not saying everyone who condemns commentary of kids’ shows with ‘ugh omg chill, its just a kids’ show’ is a hypocrite who simultaneously approves of sexualized art or fics of those shows or characters.

But I am saying that its definitely, definitely a thing, that even people who I see condemning pedophilic works seem to switch gears when it comes to being critical of social justice issues in the same source materials. As though their worldview is more willing to make room for or accept the inevitability of people wanting to sexualize stuff even though they’re clear that its meant ‘for kids’....that they’re willing to make room for the validity of people being critical of the messages imparted in stuff meant ‘for kids.’

And like.....does that not seem fucking backwards?

We need to stop treating stuff ‘meant for kids’ as though kids are somehow separate from the rest of society and immune to the way we’re all affected and influenced and harmed by media meant for adults.

Instead of them being MORE vulnerable, LESS protected, MORE influenced by the media meant FOR them. As though they’re not actively in the stages of being shaped by their media, their influences, their entertainment....instead of at the stages we’re at, where we’re forced to PUSH BACK against all the deeply ingrained biases and assumptions we’ve been mired in.....since we were kids.

Like...this is just so bizarre to me. Of fucking COURSE we need to be critical of ‘just a kids’ show’ or something that’s ‘jeez, meant for kids, remember’. Because if grown adults who see and are aware of the problems in those things, or areas they need work, don’t criticize and condemn and push back against them....who the fuck will?? The kids don’t know enough to protect themselves from toxic ideas and influences, because the toxic ideas and influences ARE WHAT THEY’RE IN THE PROCESS OF LEARNING FROM!

Unless, do you somehow think, in this culture where we’re painfully aware of how damn near EVERY piece of media we consume has layers and layers of racism, sexism, homophobia, abuse apologism, rape fetishization....do you think that the second a content creator sits down at their desk and drawing board and goes “okay, but remember, brain, this is for KIDS, think of the kids!” That like.....that content creator suddenly, magically....gets it right? Because its for the kiddies, they’re able to suddenly, like, fucking levitate right over all their own ingrained biases and prejudices and fucked up toxic influences that might spill out unconsciously or consciously if their art was about and for adults....but the mantra ‘its for the children’ just....protects them from all that? Provides sudden, temporary enlightenment where every idea that pops into their brain and emerges through their story is a Right One, a Just One, a Progressive One?

That’s not how that works! That’s not how ANY of this works!

And the most frustrating thing is we all know this!

Why is it, that people who are SO good at calling out an argument as bullshit when they’re IN the discourse, invested, paying attention, putting something on the line.....have no problem snatching up those exact same arguments the second they catch a whiff of a discourse they don’t want to be involved in, or go near, or even entertain (la la la I’m not listening - lol, you’re all dumb, this is a kids’ show, relax, its not that deep)....as though its suddenly, magically, NOT a bullshit argument just because they’re the ones trotting it out because this time, the shoe is on the other foot, and THIS particular discourse makes them uncomfortable for whatever reason?

I get it. The discourse, whatever it is, wherever it is, can be exhausting. Nobody can mire themselves in it 24/7 and not walk away just completely drained. Sometimes we have to check out, take a break, recharge our batteries. Just fucking find something to enjoy. I totally get that.

But the thing is......that thing or that place you go to or look for to recharge in peace and quiet, away from the discourse....it is NEVER inherently going to be discourse free. Never above criticism or recourse. Because no art, no creativity, exists...without coming from the minds of imperfect, flawed human beings who are ALL in our own unique ways, still products of an imperfect, flawed society absolutely RIDDLED with issues and problems we’re all perfectly aware are there. There is NOTHING a product of society can produce, that can not be criticized. Can not be workshopped. Has no room to be MADE BETTER.

Some things get closer than others, sure....or at least some things do, as they relate to us and our personal experiences and beliefs individually. Those are the things we seek out as refuges, the things we don’t have to focus on making better, talking through the flaws that are readily apparent to us, find ways to make something better or more worthwhile out of the rough edges that hurt us when we watch it or consume it, just trying to be entertained or feel better.

But that never means those things are just.....better, overall. That they’re just...above being criticized. That it’s okay to just settle for ‘good enough’ because we ourselves are currently far enough away from whatever rough edges this piece of media has that we either can’t see them at all, or at least like, they’re not actively hurting us.

Just the other people, who came here looking for something to just enjoy too, but can’t get comfortable no matter how much they’d like to, because for whatever reasons, they ARE closer to the rough edges, they’re hurting them or just getting in the way, blocking their view of the movie or show you’re all there to watch.

And like, I’m not trying to pretend that I have all the answers here or tell anyone what to do or how to do it, just.....saying that like, we have to be better at LOOKING for better ways to handle that, that allow us to recharge and abstain from the discourse there, shut it out so we can get what we need from that before charging back in there or elsewhere.....without loudly shouting to everyone complaining about the rough edges “SHUT UP, ITS ALL IN YOUR HEAD, GOD, SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO ENJOY THE SHOW HERE, JEEZ.”

Our enjoyment should not ever require telling people that like......there’s no place here for them to enjoy an inherently flawed piece of media if they can’t like, suck it up and swallow whatever disappointments they have about rough edges that might not be apparent to you from your vantage point, but are just as real as any you’ve complained about in the past, when sitting elsewhere, watching a different show.

We all live in the same fucked up, imperfect society. We all run into stuff that hurts us, gets in our way, makes our daily journeys harder, demands we either suck it up or speak up and ask for some help making smoother sidewalks, clearing clutter out of the way, finding a way around an obstacle.

If we expect to be heard when WE have something in our way or something hurting us, we CAN NOT be content to just....shut down the voices of everyone saying something that makes us uncomfortable or that we think would just take up too much time or energy to deal with and we’re in a hurry to get somewhere, don’t have any energy to spare.

Like, yes, sometimes we legitimately don’t have anything else to give without actively hurting ourselves, keeping ourselves from getting to an important destination on time, being able to complete our own journey. I’m not saying we owe it to a total stranger to add to our own pain when we’re already hurting and stretched past our limits.

But there’s a difference between acknowledging someone asking for help or confronting what’s clearly an apparent obstacle or hardship for them, while not being able to stop or help because you’ve got other people depending on you or waiting on you or simply do not have the means or resources or spoons to do anything but complete the necessary task or goal you’ve already set yourself towards.....

And like.....raising your own voice to drown theirs out or putting in your earbuds and blasting your music while you rush past them yelling ‘outta my way, I have more important things to do, get a job you lazy bum’ because you feel BAD about not being able to take the time or spend the energy, you maybe feel a little bit guilty, and if there’s a fairly universal human experience, its that nobody really LIKES feeling guilty, it’s one of our more unpleasant emotions, and we tend to look for any way possible to ignore it when it pops up, either with legitimate reason or without.

Again, not saying I KNOW the right way to handle these kinds of scenarios, just that.....the latter is not it, is never it. And yet more often than not, its what too many of us, even those of us yelling the loudest in other discourses perhaps, default to.

Because the other thing is....its not like every criticism out there IS valid. It’s not like everybody to stop in the middle of the street and start making a commotion and making everyone else stop what they’re doing and look what they’re complaining about, what their problem is....

It’s not like there aren’t plenty of times where like....it isn’t genuinely a problem. Where they’re not being HARMED by something, but at most mildly inconvenienced. Faced with a tiny little speedbump that has people who had to stop their own conversations to see what he was yelling about, people who had to pause in the middle of trying to navigate their way around a big five car pile-up blocking their commute, just rolling their eyes at the dude who’s making all that drama, slowing down everyone else’s day, just because he like....wants someone to do something about the little spider he just spotted on his expensive Italian loafers and he’s not even arachnophobic, he just thinks spiders are icky and wants someone to idk....get it off or kill it? Whatever.

Point being, sometimes there are actually complaints or criticisms that AREN’T worth everyone’s attention, and the person yelling loudly about it is just super privileged and needs to figure out how to deal with not always having things just the way he wants them on his own, nobody can (or should have to) help him with that.

But I mean.....you can only tell that for sure once you’ve actually LOOKED at what his problem is. Heard what it was. And maybe that took just a two second quick glance or an hour for him to get to the bottom of it as he launched into his life story first to make sure you understood just how much he thinks bugs are icky before getting around to saying oh yeah, so there, that’s the problem, see? Icky bug.

But again, like....there’s a difference between feeling like this issue the guy is facing does not merit you taking time and energy away from your own issues to just....make his life marginally less inconvenient.....once you’ve actually given his actual issue some degree of actual consideration.

Versus just.....never actually stopping to listen and blowing past him while laughing with a buddy about what you ASSUME his issue to be based on like....where you’re all standing at the time. Like ‘lol this is a school zone, buddy, its meant for kids and people obviously put tons of time into making sure its all safe and pretty for the kids, so there can’t possibly be anything here that you, a grown adult, should actually be worried about, like whatever you think it is, its not that big a deal.”

And so you just keep on without looking back, laughing about what a dumbass that guy was and so never bothered to notice that the spider he was worrying about was actually deadly as hell, and just because he was the only one to see it at the moment didn’t mean that it couldn’t hurt a kid playing in the park just as easily as him, or that there weren’t a whole nest of similar spiders lurking around and potentially dangerous to all of those kids.

Like. Your priority was not the kids, and it was not whether or not his issue was actually legitimate, it was just whatever you were talking about with your friend that you didn’t want to be distracted from, you were both just having too good a time.

And honestly, like....its not like you’re a terrible person for that, its just.....that’s what it was. That’s what that actual interaction was, and just call it what it was. Not a reason to feel superior because some people just have to manufacture drama wherever they go and can never be happy, not even when something is meant for kids.

And while giving someone’s criticism the proper consideration before accepting it as valid or dismissing it as irrelevant, like...while that can look like a ton of different things?

If you can take the exact argument you used to dismiss or shut down that criticism you heard, switch out a few names and details without changing the structure or context of either the argument or the criticism....

and suddenly, you’re looking at the exact same bullshit argument you’ve seen people use to shut down YOUR criticisms, just when talking about different characters or a different, adult show?

Whatever you gave that criticism you heard here, it was probably not the proper consideration.

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hoseokisme-blog · 6 years

Text

Carpe Diem

Chapter 1 :

Opening my eyes was the hardest thing to do for me. I could feel rays of light upon my face telling me that it was time to wake up.

Accepting to open my eyes would means that I have to face again an unproductive day. That was everyday struggle.

I'm not good when it comes to confrontations. All I do is run off situations that I know I'm not capable of handle.

I love being in control. Not fighting for life is my way to control it. If nothing is happening, if I'm not doing anything, if I don't stand up and live, I chose it. I decided it and accepted it because I'm the commander of my life.

I'm never going back to that time where circumstances of life controlled me and influenced my incoming days. Deception was all I gain.

I made it. I was finally awake but i felt like shit. Yesterday night I ate tons of food and quenched my thirst with some or should I say too much beer. I was still feeling guilty of my life style but I chose it. Stop blaming yourself girl.

I slowly dragged myself out of the bed and made my way to the bathroom. I didn't even take more than 15min to clean myself. Combing my hair was just a waste of time. Make-up? Who puts on cosmetics when you stay most of the time at home? Funny how before i used to spend 30 minutes on my daily make-up routine. What could I even do outside in this fake ass world though? Besides buying some groceries. I needed to feed myself after all and lord knows how much I eat.

After making my coffee and lit a cigarette, I was finally sitting in my living room eager to inhale nicotine.

«Bless be this coffee that helps me staying awake and those cigarettes that slowly are killing my lungs. Amen»

I said with a hoarse voice echoing in my not so furnished apartment. I always had the habit of talking to myself. That's not a mental illness right?

I felt my phone vibrating.

ASSHOLE is calling

I took a deep breath and said, "The fuck you calling me?" I was already regretting that i picked up my phone. How stupid I was.

The man behind the phone spoke to me, "This is how you treat the only friend you have?"

"Get dismissed. Who said I need your friendship or whatsoever?" I retorted.

"Ya ! Move your big ass from that shitty place you live in. Where did you go? I -" He angrily responded to me but I didn't let him the time to even finish his sentence.

"Cut it YoonGi. I'm not making a damn move. You can kiss my ass" I threw my phone somewhere in the distance and took another cigarette to burn my frustration.

Your call ended

He looked at his phone with a sulky face,

"She's probably on her periods. I need to do something with her bad attitude." He whined to his friend Jungkook who was sitting next to him.

"Man, just give up. Every day is the same useless arguments. And let me inform you that she can't be every single day on her periods." Jungkook answered with annoyance.

The youngest took a pause and continued, "Who knows she still might be. I would be not surprised that midget has some one of a kind dysfunctional sickness. Oh wait, is she even human?"

Yoongi knitted one's brow at his disproportionate reaction. She sure isn't the kindest girl right now but Jungkook's words were too harsh.

Yoongi grinned and proudly told back, "Don't be so salty with her 'cause she rejected you boy. And Jungkook, call me once again 'man' and I will punch you right in your pretty face of yours that makes girls drooling over you. You both are the same. Can't fucking put some respect on my name. Damn I'm older than you ! I'm your Hyung after all."

Jungkook didn't even care and left his sit "Get lost!"

That kid really needed some education.

"I don't understand why I'm still answering his calls. I should block his number." I told myself while reaching for my phone that i threw somewhere in the mess that is my desk.

I feel so pissed off right now. The few things that could possibly enlighten my day are scrolling endlessly on tumblr while eating some snacks and lay on my bed. Pissed off or not, i would have done that all day long until I fall asleep though.

"Who is that pretty boy? Oh sweet lord he got those moves though. I said with mesmerized eyes, I'm sure his mom delivered him while dancing!" Tumblr is really an eye candy place for a girl like me. I read the tag at the end of the post, "J-Hope" What an interesting name. Seemingly he's a choreographer.

I look at my belly and sigh deeply. If only i had fifteen kilos less i could dance again. But i guess food is the only thing that can cheer me up. When I'm sad? I eat. When I'm happy? I eat. When I'm angry at the whole wide world ? You guess it, i eat.

It is said that in order to live we must eat but for me it's more like i live to eat. I have one life to eat everything i want then when I'll rest down in my grave, I'll be reduce to caloric food for worms.

I was a party animal before i turn my back on what people consider as life. I was all over the place dancing around. Wherever I heard a beat or something catchy here I was moving my ass. Moreover when all eyes set on me I felt alive, noticed and sometimes desired. Since I'm a human wreck I don't think I would still give the same effect on people. Dance was dead when I put underground my old me.

"Meow"

"You're also hungry my baby. Aww mommy is gonna give you some meat. It's time to eat right? It's 9pm you must be starving"

As I'm getting up from bed to feed my cat, i heard a loud knock on my door. I don't get any visit since a year and i want it to stay the same way. Furthermore i didn't give my address to a single person when i moved out. Since i don't have a peephole i kind of freaked out of who could possibly come this late. I took the first thing that I could grab in the kitchen and went to open the door.

"Good eve- What the heck MinRae put that knife down. For god sake are you out of your mind? »

He found me. How did he manage to? I turn my back on him and walk to the kitchen to put back the knife and make some coffee.

He didn't change for a bit, still that same pale face and outstanding colorful hair. This time he dyed it green.

"Here you are. Drink quickly this up and never come back again" I say sternly, and put a cup of coffee on the table of the living room.

"I'm not here to create a big fuss MinRae. I'm tired of all this shit. It's been a year that you hiding yourself from us. You didn't even care to tell us where you were moving out nor explain us why. I called you every day ! The only answer that I have when the sloth that you are had the courage to pick up the phone is ' fuck you'. What the hell is wrong with you? You're such a selfish girl"

I can feel all his anger while YoonGi spit out all these words at me. He didn't even blink his sharp eyes once or stopped to take back his breath.

"Are you done?" I say with a big grin as if what he just told me hasn't even moved me a bit.

"Look at you. You don't even look like yourself. Are you training to become the fattest midget in the world? Is this why you fled from us?"

He comes at me and pulls my arm to force me to face him. Cocky as I am, I look straight in his eyes. I don't want him to feel like he impresses me.

"What's up with this belly? Are you pregnant?" He sarcastically says while gazing at my stomach.

Why his words hurt me so badly? I can sense sadness and anger fill up my throat. I'm about to explode. But I need to contain myself.

Now he's going near what used to be my piano.

"I can't believe you didn't even touch your piano for it seems months. Look at all that dust. Is it a garbage dump? How can you leave food and grime on one of the thing you used to cherish the most in this world?"

He's coming back at me and I can't face him anymore. He was right and I'm so mad that he is. I feel shattered. I can't even think straight. I don't know what to do or explain. My mind is blank. I don't know where to start. No words are coming. However I can feel tears running down my cheeks.

I hate showing myself vulnerable or weak. He doesn't deserve to witness that his words still have an impact on me. Friendship was over when I told myself that I don't deserve it anymore.

He pulls me in a embrace. I try to push him back but it was worthless.

"I'm sorry Minie. But I knew that I had to be rough on you to let your guard down." He pats my head. "I miss you and the others also do. Stop fighting with the people that cares about you."

Slowly a lot of old feelings are filling me up. Minie, that's what my friends used to call me. I can't deny that I missed the presence of YoonGi and being called by my nickname.

#jhope #hoseok #bts #reader x bts #hoseok x reader #female oc #rm #namjoon #seokjin #bangtan #suga #yoongi icons #jimin #jungkook #v #taehyung #angst #smut #fanfic

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shadowsong26fic · 6 years

Text

The Handler AU

As requested by @tigerkat24.

(I do also have fulltext for one scene in here, which will be posted and linked here in the near future, probably tomorrow, after I clean it up some.)

Right. So. A couple of notes before I get started:

1) This AU prominently features Lavinia, and also super self-indulgent. Gonna say that straight-out. This is me and my OC and a bunch of tropes I adore. It is not the most self-indulgent piece I’ve ever put together, but it’s probably up there. I say this because, while I am pretty much past the point as a fan/content creator/whatever where I’m ashamed of my self-indulgent BS, I understand that it might not be everyone’s cup of tea, especially when it’s as obvious as this piece is. And I like people to know at least in general terms what they’re getting into when they open a piece of mine. So, you know, bear that in mind as you move forward.

2) Because of the way I work/develop AUs/OCs/etc., there are certain personality traits/satellite characters/plot points that are common to all/most of Lavinia’s storylines (...yeah, it’s a Thing I do, with OCs yeah but also with OC-free AUs and AUs of AUs and ‘hey what if I changed this plot point here, or put OC B in this situation instead of that one, or stuck Canon D in...look, y’all have seen my Distaff variants, you know the kind of thing I’m talking about; I don’t always stop at a single layer of canon-divergence, but then there has to be a thread connecting everything, or it becomes a totally different story/character, right? ...I’m not sure I’m explaining this very well. ...anyway, back on topic). As a result, despite being an AU of a completely different AU, this outline is therefore somewhat spoilery for a future Precipice arc. I mean, I’m pretty sure I’ve hinted at where I’m going with her in the fic proper and/or bonus content, or at least I’ve tried to, (plus, I know I’ve mentioned some things here on tumblr about particular narrative/character tropes I like), so it’s probably not too surprising? Or, at least, I hope it’s not. If it is, I need to get better at foreshadowing… Anyway, it is still technically a spoiler. To the point where I considered sitting on this (and a couple related AUs) at least until a particular event from Arc Seven that makes said future storyline about as clear as it can be until it actually happens. But…I decided ehhhhhh, why not (plus this was requested). But, you know, if that is something you want to avoid, might be best not to read this outline until after Arc…nine, I think? Just as a head’s up.

3) This is essentially a Kallus-centric Rebels fic (though, as mentioned above, also prominently featuring one of my OCs). And, other than that one bit in the Valdemar AU I wrote a month or so ago, this is the first time I’ve actually written Rebels content. (…granted, I’ve plotted more things--the closely-related Pellaeon AU features Rebels stuff pretty heavily, as does the middle arc of the Valdemar AU, which started as ‘Anakin would do really well as a Herald actually’ and has now turned into a massive three-part kudzu plot of a niche crossover and I should really redo that outline properly at some point, plus a few other things…) Anyway, the point is, I’m not necessarily super familiar with the conventions/etc. of this part of the fandom, and I apologize for any off-voice bits.

Okay! Now that I have warned for spoilers, inexperience, and self-indulgent BS…welcome to the Handler AU.

Oh, one more thing I want to mention—because this is, as stated above, super self-indulgent, Kanan is still alive because I said so. He got pretty crisped in that explosion and therefore missed the final battle, but didn’t actually die.

(Imperial records may have listed him as dead for a while, because No One Could Have Survived That, but he did survive.)

(How? IDK, maybe Ezra actually was able to do something from the between-place in this version.)

(Point is, we still have Kanan.)

(Ezra and Thrawn are still on a road trip with a bunch of space whales, though.)

ANYWAY. On to the good stuff.

It all kicks off like two months after Yavin.

Some timeline notes:

Because timelining anything in Star Wars is A Project, I am making some executive decisions here.

We’re approximately a year after the Rebels series finale.

(Meaning Jacen is like 3-4 months old, depending on exactly how pregnant Hera was at the time.)

This is also about how long Zeb and Kallus have been explicitly dating.

(There was SO MUCH PINING going on for a while there.)

(But it took that long for either of them to actually do anything about it.)

(Kallus figured out pretty early on that he was interested, but didn’t really think he deserved this/had earned it yet/that Zeb could possibly be interested in him, and therefore decided to bury his feelings Like A Goddamn Professional Okay.)

(Zeb took a while longer to clue in, and then couldn’t figure out if this was just him or what--see above re: burying things; worked a little bit too well--plus he has his own issues to work through.)

(And then there were some frantic Confessions and so-glad-we’re-alive sex and…)

(Yeah, this is a thing now.)

(Exactly zero people who have spent any time with these two dorks at all are surprised.)

(As is so often the case, the last people to clue in that this was A Mutual Thing are the two idiots involved.)

(There may or may not have been a pool or three going.)

(Hera won at least one of them.)

So. Kallus has made himself useful wherever he can since openly defecting, really, but generally works analyzing intelligence reports and training field agents for potential undercover missions. Even if his specific information is getting more and more out of date (few, if any, of the codes, etc. that he knows are still valid at this point), some things aren’t going to change that quickly, and his background is useful here.

Anyway. He gets called in--

“We’ve been approached by a would-be double agent deep in Imperial territory; received three transmissions in the past few weeks. So far, everything we’ve been sent checks out/has been useful, but.”

“But you’re wondering if this agent is an ISB plant.”

“Exactly. She calls herself Vector.”

“She?”

“Yeah. The scrambler she’s using is doing its job, which means we can’t actually use a voice print to ID her, but vocal pattern analysis got us that much. And that she’s likely Coruscanti, Human, and under thirty. That’s about all we know.”

He goes over the data and the recordings from the first three contacts and nothing jumps out as a red flag/any of the tricks he’s familiar with.

On the first call, there’s some dancing around; as if Vector’s trying to make sure of who she’s talking to. What he’d expect from either a plant or a genuine defector, really. Not particularly helpful.

The other two are fairly brief/straightforward, and start the same way each time--This is Vector. I have a data file for you. Do as you like with it. Also not particularly enlightening, given the question he’s been asked to answer.

The data itself, though, is--interesting. Not easy to access, for the most part, and not necessarily all from the same source. Parts of it are the kind of thing ISB would use as bait, but just as much of it is not. Some of it provides useful context for intel the Alliance has received from other sources (some covert, some not), which is not the kind of thing an ISB plant would send.

So, he goes back to his superiors and tentatively reports Vector as probably genuine. He wants to be on hand for her next transmission, though, to be sure.

(He wonders, idly, who they had evaluate his initial transmissions like this, or if using an established codename and protocol was enough…)

(He’s Concerned it might be the second.)

(There are some worrying gaps in Rebel Intelligence’s security that he can only do so much to patch.)

Of course, there’s a slight problem with that. Vector’s transmissions haven’t exactly been regular--the second one came four days after the first, and then it was nearly two weeks to the third.

And when they do come, they’re very brief, so if Kallus is, say, busy with a training exercise on the opposite side of the base…

(Or otherwise occupied in a supply closet.)

(He does have, y’know, a life when off-duty.)

(...which is something that still sends him into weird brainspirals of “how did this happen” and “i don’t deserve this” and “when is it going to blow up in my face” on occasion, but that is a separate problem. One that he buries. Like A Goddamn Professional.)

(no that’s not a habit of his why do you ask.)

IN ANY CASE, this means that it ends up being her sixth message, close to three weeks after Kallus is initially brought in, before he’s able to listen in live.

(Transmissions four and five, after he reviews them, don’t really change his analysis, but still.)

Transmission six comes in while Kallus happens to be in the tiny corner of the current base that Intelligence has claimed.

It starts like the others did--This is Vector. I have a data file for you. Do as you like with it.

Once the file transfer initiates, he responds.

“Vector, this is Fulcrum.”

(Okay, technically, he probably should be using a different handle now, since it’s really supposed to be for field agents only and he isn’t one anymore. And there are similar shared code names for Intelligence agents primarily on base duty, or he assumes there are, but even after over a year of not using it, it’s still the first one that comes to mind. Reflexive, almost. And now it’s going to stick.)

There’s a beat of silence from the other end, and Kallus is briefly concerned that he misjudged the situation, that she’d going to panic and cut the transmission.

But, “I can’t leave the link open long,” she says.

(Part of him thinks she sounds...almost relieved? Like she’s been waiting to be challenged like this, and the longer things went on without a test, the more nervous she got.)

(He can understand that worry. That sense of just waiting for the other shoe to drop.)

(And, yes, other Rebel Intelligence agents probably could have tested her like this, and if he hadn’t been around as a resource they almost certainly would have, but given that he knows exactly what to look for, the Powers That Be had decided to leave it in his hands.)

“Of course,” he says, and asks her a few questions, rapid-fire.

(He’s less interested in the specific details of her answers--and he’s not really asking her questions about her identity--then how she approaches answering him. Not necessarily something he can explain, which is part of why he didn’t coach any of the other officers and get this taken care of on transmission four or five, but just trying to get a sense of her.)

(One thing he does is privately revise the estimate of her age--he thinks she’s younger than the previous guess, probably twenty or so. Sabine’s age, maybe, at the oldest. Which makes her even less likely to be a plant in his opinion; ISB wouldn’t put this much effort into setting up an agent that inexperienced, not on a mission this sensitive, even if she was inconceivably talented and precocious. As an in-person infiltrator, yes, absolutely; but for this many layers of intrigue...no, they’d want someone Experienced.)

She ends the transmission somewhat abruptly, after about five minutes, but he was more or less expecting that and anyway he has what he needs.

“Well?”

“She’s genuine,” he says. “I’m as sure as I can be of that.”

“Good to hear.” A pause. “...you’ve run undercover agents before, correct?”

Kallus shuts down the knee-jerk paranoid response as fast and hard as he can.

(There are almost certainly people in the Alliance who still don’t trust me but none of them are in this room. I know that. Calm down.)

“Yes, once or twice,” he says, cautiously. “For short-term assignments.”

“Congratulations. You just volunteered to be Vector’s handler.”

(Hence the name of the AU. AKA the one where Kallus adopts a baby spy who JUST HAPPENS to be Palpatine’s daughter.)

(...yeah, he didn’t really see that one coming.)

(...at some point, I should probably go through and outline Lavinia’s politics and her reasons for defecting in detail, but in the interests of focusing on Kallus’s end of things, which is much more interesting, a (hopefully) brief digression on the subject:)

(Lavinia was created and trained to be a spy/manipulator, to perform the kind of tasks and access the kind of information that Palpatine could as the avuncular Chancellor but cannot as Emperor, now that he’s thrown that mask away.)

(...apart from very specific, carefully staged moments, like with Ezra.)

(So, part of manipulating people means understanding them, which means Lavinia does a lot of research to put her targets into context, and in so doing comes across a wide variety of cultures/forms of government, at least in an academic context.)

(And that means that, once she starts thinking beyond “how can I survive until tomorrow” and starts thinking about broader impact/more long-range plans, it doesn’t take her very long to realize that her father’s government is...well, let’s call it deeply flawed.)

(What she does when she comes to that conclusion varies, depending on other circumstances--but she doesn’t necessarily defect right away. Mostly for practical reasons; in Masks!Verse, which this AU is a variant of, she has no Rebel contacts that she’s absolutely sure of.)

(Meaning, in this case, both “absolutely sure is an actual Rebel and not just sympathetic to their aims/politics” and “absolutely sure would be willing to work with me despite my parentage.”)

(And if she approaches anyone she isn’t sure of, it’ll get her or her contact or both of them killed. Defecting from a distance, while she can better protect her identity, has a much bigger risk of interception, which, again, would get her and/or her contacts and possibly a lot of other people killed. Or worse.)

(Basically, she doesn’t think defection is a viable option for her--there are some other reasons for this, but those play a distant second to these concerns.)

(But then Alderaan happens.)

(And these concerns carry a lot less weight.)

(It takes her a couple months to figure out how to make contact with Rebel Intelligence, let alone how to do it safely, but she starts working on it at that point.)

(...I think that’s the salient points here. Like I said, I have a fair bit more about Lavinia’s politics/etc. and the ways/extent to which she’s willing to defy her father in various AUs, but that’s enough for this one, I think.)

So, Kallus can’t really argue with the assignment (even if part of him kind of wants to? Not because he thinks he can’t do it, but because he’s concerned that being another deep-cover informant’s handler is going to dig up a lot of stuff he’d really, really rather keep buried.)

(Look, he feels like he’s finally found his equilibrium. He’s even, somehow, approaching happy with his life for the first time in what feels like forever which, guilt-induced brainspirals aside, he doesn’t want to give up.)

(Besides, handling Vector wouldn’t be his only responsibility, and if he does start losing that equilibrium, he’s not sure how much his other work will be affected.)

(On the other hand...)

(On the other hand, there are very few people who have done what he did and survived long enough to make it back to Rebel lines.)

(Oh, there are other deep-cover informants, sure; but the majority of them are plants inserted by Rebel Intelligence.)

(And while, even leaving aside the technicalities involved with Senator Mothma and others among the leadership who had previously served in the Imperial Senate, there are plenty of defectors--up to and including General Madine and some other persons of very high rank--for the most part, once they make that decision, defectors grab what they can and run.)

(The ones that don’t usually don’t survive as long as he did.)

(Or, alternatively, they don’t identify themselves to the Alliance or even necessarily work directly with them; they perform internal sabotage rather than espionage.)

(Those embedded defectors tend to last longer, but not by much.)

(Which means that he’s probably the only person--certainly the only available person--who has been where Vector is. Who better to help her?)

(As for his own issues...well, he is a Professional, dammit. He can damn well compartmentalize. He’s very good at that.)

(...yeah, this is kind of a running theme for him. Sometimes it’s a good thing, sometimes it’s...very much not.)

(It remains to be seen how much it’ll help or hurt when dealing with Vector.)

So, he accepts the assignment, and goes back to his quarters to tell Zeb and collect a few things--given the irregularity of Vector’s transmissions, until he can talk to her again and set up a better protocol, he’s going to basically have to camp out in Intelligence.

(Which he’s not looking forward to, but it is what it is.)

Zeb is already there when he gets back--their current shifts don’t entirely line up, which is fine; they have at least a few hours overlap most days which is better than some pairs can say.

After several minutes saying hello...

“Did I miss anything interesting?” Kallus asks.

“That Skywalker kid came by a bit ago,” Zeb tells him. “Looking for Kanan.”

Kallus blinks, halfway through fixing caf for the two of them. “...aren’t he and Hera off investigating a potential supply line?”

(Which is, of course, far below Hera’s current paygrade, but she volunteers for that kind of mission on occasion. An excuse to spend private time with her family, while still technically being useful and not taking actual time off.)

“Yep,” Zeb says. “Apparently, this is the third or fourth time something like that has happened. They keep missing each other.”

"Well, I’m sure they’ll link up sooner or later,” he says. “Especially if Skywalker’s actively looking for Kanan.”

(He hasn’t actually met Luke yet at this point, but he’s heard the rumors. He has no real doubt of this fact.)

“Yeah, probably,” Zeb says. “I think Kanan’s been trying to track him down, too. He’ll be sorry he missed him.”

(...yeah, we’re going with Anakin-and-Grievous levels of contrived coincidence to keep those two from actually meeting for a while.)

(Partly because it’s easier than figuring out all the timeline/plot implications that might have (and I’m lazy, and that is the focus of another story), but mostly because I think it’s funny.)

Kallus nods. “...did he and Hera take Jacen with them, or...?”

(He hadn’t seen any evidence the baby had been left with them, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.)

But Zeb shakes his head. “Nah, Sabine has him this time. Why? Something going on?”

“I have an assignment,” Kallus tells him.

“Huh. Extraction?”

(Logical assumption--the bulk of the fieldwork he does now, all-hands-on-deck situations like Lothal aside, is extractions. Occasionally helping sell an insertion, but generally the reverse.)

“No, not this time,” he says. “The agent who reached out, the one I told you about--I’ve been assigned as her handler.”

(He has long since gotten permission to discuss at least surface generalities of his work with Zeb, and they both know where the line is.)

Zeb’s ears flick a little, and Kallus can practically see him weighing the same pros and cons that he himself did earlier--and probably several others he hadn’t thought of.

“So, I guess that means you’re camping out in intelligence for a while?”

“Unfortunately,” he says. “Of course, there is a difference between being on-call and being on duty. And my schedule technically won’t change.”

Zeb perks up at that and grins before kissing him. “Well, I’m sure I an find an excuse to be in the area. Sometimes. Just in case. You know.”

“Mm.”

Fortunately, call number seven comes less than a week later.

This is Vector. I have a data file for you. Do as you like with it.

“Vector, this is Fulcrum.”

A brief pause. “Yes.”

“I’ve been assigned as your handler.”

(He figures the best way to deal with someone who’s probably twitchy and paranoid and otherwise on high alert is to be as scrupulously honest as he can. That doesn’t mean telling her everything, of course, but it does mean being straightforward, difficult as it is, and not outright lying.)

(If he can. So far, he can.)

Another pause. “I understand.”

(She’s hard to read on this one, whether or not she finds it suspicious. She might even be relieved again, that she’ll have a set contact point, rather than a whoever’s-available sort of situation.)

“There are some protocols I’d like to establish, for further contacts.”

“I can’t call at a set time,” she says immediately. “Or at set intervals.”

"I understand,” he said. “But I’m going to give you a more specific frequency to call.”

“Yes,” she says, and that definitely has a faint note of relief.

“Can you, if nothing else, send an all-clear transmission every two weeks?” he asks. “It doesn’t need to be at a set time, but so we can gauge--” whether or not you’re alive and uncompromised “--how concerned we need to be after a long silence.”

She pauses. “...I think so. Yes. I can do that.”

(Definitely young, he thinks, maybe even younger than Ezra--would be.)

“That’s all for now,” he says. There are others he wants to establish, of course, but those are the most important and her file transfer is nearly complete.

“I’ll be in touch,” she says; hesitates a second; “Vector out.”

(...well, she’s signing off officially now, rather than just abruptly terminating the connection. Progress. I think.)

He goes back to his quarters, and life settles into a new routine.

He keeps up his old duties--analyzing reports, training potential undercover agents, etc.--and also keeps track of Vector and her reports.

That last one proves...well, his early optimism wasn’t entirely misplaced?

Vector is very, very good at what she does. Her files are varied in their content, and sometimes not as useful as she might’ve hoped, due to timing or other resource concerns, but the quality of the work she does never comes into question.

But part of being a double agent’s handler is assessing how they’re holding up under the incredible stress of the position. And she is frustratingly vague when it comes to anything approaching anything personal about herself.

In addition, there are two additional protocols he wants to set up early on--first is a way for him to reach her.

“Just because I have access doesn’t mean I have influence,” she says. “I can’t seed disinformation for you. Not without getting caught.”

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

(Though, of course, he had considered the possibility--as well-positioned as Vector seems to be, how could he not?--but while he doesn’t completely rule out the idea, he files it away under “only as a last resort.” Better to leave her in place as long as possible.)

“But if there’s something specific we want you to keep an eye out for--or if we need to warn you about something...”

“Right,” she says. “That’s fine, then.”

The second, though...the second is where they run into real problems.

“I also want to establish an emergency signal. If you need extraction, or if you end up captured by Rebel agents.”

(He still wonders, sometimes, if staying behind when Ezra came to extract him was the right decision. It had seemed so at the time, but...)

(He’ll probably never know. And fretting about it doesn’t do any good.)

(knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to stop.)

“No,” she says.

“Vector--”

And she hangs up on him.

Exactly why she’s so reticent to establish something like that, he isn’t sure--he has some theories, but...

It’s frustrating, to be sure. Makes it harder for him to do his job.

(And it makes him worried about her--if she’s working without any kind of exit strategy, that likely means she doesn’t think such a thing will be possible. Which, on the one hand, shows her dedication to the cause, but on the other hand...on the other hand, if she thinks getting caught is inevitable, she might get sloppy with her own security and that might well turn into a self-fulfilling prophecy.)

(The other alternative, that she doesn’t trust him, or the Alliance, with her safety if things do go wrong, is...well, probably more distressing, in all honesty.)

(Though not, perhaps, altogether surprising.)

He decides to seek Kanan’s advice on the problem.

(Kanan, after all, knows best what to do with unruly teenagers.)

(...well, so does Hera, but Hera’s advice would probably be less applicable/harder to apply to his specific situation. Also, she has better things to do than help him do his job.)

(Which is the other frustrating thing, that he can’t handle this by himself.)

Kanan’s advice is pretty straightforward--be patient, and don’t push her too hard. You can’t help her if she won’t let you.

(This is part of why I wanted him still around, incidentally.)

(Because there is something utterly hilarious about Kallus going to Kanan for parenting advice.)

(And that’s exactly what he’s doing.)

(Even if he hasn’t quite figured that out yet.)

So, taking this in mind, he backs off. A little bit. Decides to start from square one, and build a rapport, and go from there to get some of the other basics that he wants established.

Standard interrogation technique, technically. Not one favored by ISB, obviously, or really encouraged, but even they knew it had its uses.

Vector is still cagey about personal details, but she does start to soften a little as several weeks go by.

He brings up the idea of an emergency code phrase again, after about two months of this kind of sporadic contact.

This time, she says she’ll think about it.

Things hold in this pattern for about a year, and then Vector makes a call, as usual.

Or, it starts like a normal call, anyway.

“You probably won’t hear from me for a while,” she says, as the file transfer is wrapping up and they’re about to sign off.

“Are you in trouble?”

“No,” she says. “Nothing like that. And nothing related to the work we’ve been doing. But things are going to be...difficult. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to get an all-clear message out for a while.”

He doesn’t like this at all. “How long?”

“A month,” she says. “Probably. Maybe a little more, maybe a little less. I’ll contact you as soon as I can safely.”

It is one of the longer months of his life.

But, as promised, the dedicated comm he has for her lights up eventually.

This is Vector. I have a data file for you.

“Vector, this is Fulcrum,” he says. “Good to hear from you again. Everything all right?”

“Yes,” she says. And she seems fine, and he breathes a quiet sigh of relief.

When he tells Zeb about it later, though, is where it gets...interesting.

“Glad to hear your kid’s okay,” he says.

“My--she’s not my child, Zeb,” Kallus says.

“Really.”

“....”

“Look, you talk about her the same way Kanan talks about Sabine, when she’s off blowing things up on Mandalore.”

“I...wait, really?”

“Yep,” Zeb says, and grins at him. “I mean, it’s not a problem. S’kind of what we do in this family, isn’t it? Take in strays. ‘Bout time you got in on it, really.”

Kallus just stares at him. “I...what.”

Zeb waves a hand in front of his face. “Alex. Babe. You all right in there?”

He shakes himself. “Yes, of course. Sorry."

“Ehh, don’t worry about it. I mean, it’d probably have been nice for the two of us to talk about kids in general before we started adopting our own strays, but--”

Really, sometimes Kallus thinks that Zeb likes the expression he makes when utterly poleaxed like that.

(He does. He thinks it’s adorable.)

(Also, Zeb figures this is a conversation they maybe should have, because they’re clearly both in this for the long haul and he saw this opening and...look, no one ever said Zeb was good at broaching delicate topics gently.)

“...do you?” Kallus asks, when he recovers. “Want children, someday?”

“I mean...yeah,” Zeb says. “If you do. I mean.”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” he confesses.

(Because long-range planning is hard; because they’re at war, because he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop, because he doesn’t deserve any of this and planning for a future he doesn’t deserve is just--a little much for him sometimes.)

“But...yes,” Kallus says. “I think so, yes. I would like to raise children with you. Someday.”

Zeb’s response to that is positive and enthusiastic and leads to things they will definitely not be discussing with their hypothetical children ever.

It’s a month or two after that that Kallus finds out who Vector is.

(…well, for a given value of ‘finds out,’ anyway.)

He and Zeb are babysitting--Sabine is back on Mandalore; Hera is on duty; Kanan was supposed to be finally meeting Luke but there was an issue at the spaceport and he’s stranded for the next few hours.

(Like I said. Anakin-and-Grievous levels of contrived coincidence.)

Zeb has just put the kid to bed, and Kallus is watching the news.

“You’re still watching that?” he asks, nudging Kallus to make room for him on the couch and drawing him to lean on his shoulder.

“I’ve told you before, dear, knowing what the Empire is saying, no matter how different that is from what they’re doing, has its uses.”

“Especially if you know how their propaganda is constructed, I know,” Zeb says, and nuzzles his ear. “Just thought you were almost done.”

Kallus smiles faintly and leans into the caress. “I am, I promise. I’ll shut it off in a minute. I just want to--”

He pauses. Rewinds the feed. Pauses it--pre-recorded coverage of some public event the Emperor’s kid had been at, with the newscaster commenting on the progress of whatever “public works” project it was supposed to kick off.

“…what is it? Something she said?”

(...something to do with whatever this “project” is covering up?)

“Hush,” he says, fiddling with a few buttons and calling up a printed transcript and skims through it before sinking back against Zeb, letting out a breath.

“Babe?”

“I think I know who Vector is,” he says.

Zeb stares at him for a minute, then stares at the paused footage--frozen on the Princess’s face, icy and composed.

“…her?”

“Her,” he confirms.

“Why…?”

“Little things,” he says. “The way she talks, some unique turns of phrase. And she fits the profile--young, Human, Coruscanti, close to someone powerful but essentially a civilian herself…and…when Vector disappeared on me last month, that coincided with a period where the Princess was more visible than usual.”

“Karabast,” he mutters. “When you put it like that…”

“It’s all conjecture,” Kallus points out. “I can’t prove any it. Not without digging deeper--which, if I’m right, risks compromising her cover--or asking her straight-out.”

(Which, of course, would also be a bad idea. It would probably seriously damage the trust he’s spent the past year and more building, and it might not even get him an honest answer anyway.)

“Right,” Zeb says. “…any chance someone else could put this together?”

Kallus makes a face. “Unlikely,” he says, though he doesn’t sound totally sure. “The recordings of our conversations are kept as hard copies only, for security. Not uploaded onto any networked drives. And a very small set of people have access to those copies. I doubt anyone could put it together without that access. Still…”

(Someone dedicated enough, who managed to access one of those recordings, or intercept a transmission along the way, or compromise the lines of communication from the other side…)

“Kriff,” he says. “Anything you can do about it?”

“Not really,” he says. “Other than brief Draven and keep doing what I’ve been doing.”

“Yeah,” he says, and studies the picture again; glances over at the morose look on Kallus’s face; feels his ears twitching. “Huh. Never would’ve figured the Emperor’s kriffing daughter to defect.”

Kallus jumps a little, drawn out of his thoughts, then rolls his eyes and gives Zeb a fond, exasperated smile (which was really the point, honestly; to needle him into a better mood), and rather dryly points out, “There was a time you would’ve said the same about me.”

“True,” Zeb says, and grins at him. “Guess it just goes to show, people surprise you all the time.”

“Indeed,” Kallus says, then reaches over to shut off the feed and changes the subject.

Six weeks after that, Vector goes quiet again. This time without warning.

When her two-week check-in goes by with nothing, he’s immediately concerned. She’s never missed a check-in before, not without warning. He decides to give her a day, and then ping her himself.

(He generally avoids doing that--only when he absolutely needs to speak with her about something time-sensitive that can’t wait for her to reach out.)

There’s no response to his message, either.

He reports the missed check-in, of course. Tries again the next day. And a third.

Still nothing.

(He knows a rescue won’t be authorized--technically, they don’t actually know for sure who or even where Vector is, and if his theory is correct, they cannot make a run on Coruscant for one agent, especially not one as visible as Princess Lavinia.)

(He keeps telling himself that. Over and over again. As he tries a fourth and fifth time to reach her.)

“Zeb,” he says, after a third full week has gone by since the last time he heard from her. “I need you to talk me out of doing something stupid.”

“Uh, sure, babe. What’s going on?”

He explains the situation as briefly as he can. “And I am this close to staging a half-assed unauthorized raid on Coruscant to extract her.”

“...nah, if we’re doing an unauthorized raid on Coruscant, it should be a full-assed thing.”

That...that wasn’t really the answer Kallus was looking for.

(In hindsight, he thinks, as he tries to redraw building plans from memory and plan this stupid, stupid venture, he probably should have gone to Hera if he really wanted someone to talk him down. Or possibly Kanan. ...no, Hera.)

(...it could be worse, though.)

(he could’ve tried asking Sabine.)

Fortunately, before they can actually run off and get themselves killed--

(or court-martialed)

(or in trouble with Hera)

--Kallus’ dedicated comm chimes.

“All clear,” he breathes. “That’s the all-clear. She’s...she’s alive.”

It’s nearly another week before he hears anything else, but finally a real call comes.

This is Vector. I have a data file for you. Do as you like with it.

“Vector, this is Fulcrum. Are you all right?”

(she doesn’t sound all right; it’s hard to tell through her scrambler, but she seems strained.)

“Everything’s fine,” she says. “I apologize for the delay, but things are settled now. My cover is intact.”

Which is good to know, but not what he asked.

“And what about you?” he says.

She doesn’t answer right away.

“Vector?”

“I’m here,” she says. “And everything is under control. You don’t need to worry about me. Nothing that--it wasn’t anything to do with this, I was caught on the fringes of something unrelated. It won’t interfere with my work going forward.”

Which still isn’t an answer.

(He’s pretty sure the non-answer is his answer, though. Damn it.)

(He knows the risks. Better than most. And he knows she knows them, too. It doesn’t make it any easier to hear, especially knowing that there is kriff-all he can do to help her.)

Into the silence, she says, “I’m your asset, Fulcrum. Not your friend.”

“......”

“I’m just--” She sighs. “I’m your asset. Not your friend. It’s...we should both remember that. It’s probably better, in the long run.”

And part of him is hurt; part of him is annoyed that he is being lectured on professionalism by a damned child; part of him is worried again--he did finally talk her into an emergency code phrase, in case of capture or other disaster, but here she goes again, hinting that she doesn’t have an exit strategy.

(Not like I did, either, he reminds himself. Can’t plan that far ahead. Not when you’re doing this kind of work. And even when Ezra came for me--)

(He buries it. Because he is a goddamn professional, Vector’s reproof aside.)

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she says. “And I’ve had worse.”

“........”

All right, that he likes even less.

“Vector--”

“I have to go,” she says. “I’ll be in touch when I have something else. And I’ll do my best to warn you if I have to disappear again. Vector out.”

And, in the interests of “good Lord this thing is close to 6k already,” we’re going to skip ahead quite a bit, about a year and a half, to just after the evacuation of Echo Base.

For the first time in a while, the whole family (minus Ezra) is back on the Ghost together.

(Kanan, Hera, Chopper, Sabine, Zeb, Kallus, Rex, and Jacen.)

(They’ve all been in touch and met up fairly frequently, but they’re no longer a discrete cell and they all have their own, often separate, duties with the wider Rebellion. So, while the circumstances leading to it are awful, it’s nice to have an opportunity like this.)

Orders are to lay low, and make their way by a prearranged roundabout route to the fleet rendezvous five days later.

The first night, they mostly spend catching up and letting Sabine fleece them all at cards.

(Except Rex. Do Not Play Sabaac With Rex.)

(They had all forgotten that rule.)

Hera is sending occasional messages back and forth to Command, to confirm/make adjustments/etc., but otherwise things are fairly quiet after the frantic rush of the evacuation itself.

(Fortunately, none of them were injured in the escape. It’s happened before, when they’ve had to leave a base in a hurry. That was a week no one wanted to repeat.)

It’s their second night of drifting, and Kallus is just starting to fall asleep (Zeb is snoring beside him; the noise honestly probably should have been annoying but is genuinely comforting at this point, to the point where he has trouble sleeping without it) when his comm beeps.

It’s Vector.

More accurately, it’s her emergency signal.

He extracts himself from the bed and slips out into the hall to talk the call.

“Fulcrum.”

“It’s Vector,” she says, unnecessarily. She’s not using her usual scrambler this time, but a more standard vocoder, probably cannibalized from a stolen helmet. She sounds drained, and slightly breathless. “I’ve been burned. I got...I got away. I had more..." She stops, clears her throat. “I got away. I was able to remove my tracker and I’m as--I’m as sure as I reasonably can be that I’ve lost anyone following me by other means. I-I pulled as much raw data as I could onto a couple of portable drives on my way out, but I’m on a...I’m on a sliced public terminal right now, I don’t want to keep the line open long enough to send them in the usual way and I...I don’t know what the protocol is now. Please advise.”

“Where are you now?” he asks. There are so many other questions he wants to ask, needs to ask, both from a personal and a professional standpoint--is she all right; how did she get caught; how did she escape; how long has she been compromised--but they can wait until she’s been located and brought in safely. He sets them all aside, and focuses.

(Like A Goddamn Professional.)

“Ixaly,” she says. “I’m on...I’m on Ixaly.”

He closes his eyes, mentally traces their route through hyperspace. Ixaly is in this sector, it shouldn’t be far...yes. If he’s counted right--they’ll be doing a navigation stop shortly, and dropping out of hyperspace. From there--a few hours to Ixaly, unless he’s completely turned around.

“There’s a cantina,” he says, “in the Diira district in Central City. The White Shale. Can you be there in six hours?”

A brief pause; he can hear her breathing. “Yes,” she says, at last. “Yes, I’ll be there.”

“That’s the fastest I can arrange a pickup,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

(If he’s right about how close they are, it might not actually take him that long, but there’s a balance between getting to her as quickly as possible and budgeting in time for something to go wrong. He doesn’t want to risk being late and having her move on because she thinks he’s not coming. He may not be able to contact her if something goes wrong; not if she’s relying on sliced public terminals to reach out to him. And he has no idea when she’ll be able to make contact again, or how long whatever data’s on her drives will stay viable...so, six hours. He’ll have to trust her to stay alive that long.)

“I’ll be there,” she promises. “White Shale cantina, Diira district, Central City, six hours.”

“Exactly. You know how to reach me if there are any problems.”

“Yes,” she says.

“It’s almost over,” he says. “You’ve done well, getting yourself this far. Just hold on for a little while longer, all right?”

“I will,” she says; takes a breath. “I’ll see you in six hours. Vector out.”

The line goes dead.

Half a heartbeat later, he feels the familiar rumble of the hyperdrive cutting out, switching over to sublight engines.

He’s in his window now, he doesn’t have time--

As he heads for the Phantom, he runs into Kanan.

“...what’s wrong?”

“Vector,” he says, clipped. “She’s had to run. She’s not far--”

“Go,” he says. “I’ll let Hera know. ...take Zeb with you. In case you need backup.”

(Which he doesn’t really need, and it might well spook his contact if he brings a team--he has run extractions like this before, after all, and Vector is particularly cagey--but he nods.)

“I will. Thank you.”

“How long do we wait before sending our own rescue party?” Kanan asks.

Kallus does some quick mental math--six hours to the meet; going by Vector’s history, she may need some convincing to come along (like I did, until it was too late; but it’s already too late for her, isn’t it?); she might be wrong about having a tail; they might run into unrelated trouble...

“I’ll send word once we leave the system. If you haven’t heard from me in twelve hours, that’s when you worry.”

“Got it,” he says, and starts off towards the cockpit to update Hera, when Kallus realizes--

“Wait,” he says.

Kanan pauses, half-turns back to him.

“I don’t know who Vector is, not for certain,” he says, “but I have considerable circumstantial evidence that she’s Princess Lavinia.”

Kanan takes that in, then nods slowly. “Right. Thanks for the head’s up. I’ll pass that along.”

“Thank you,” Kallus says again, and the two of them separate--Kallus goes to wake Zeb and then get the Phantom prepped and underway; Kanan goes to tell Hera what’s going on.

(...and corral his son.)

(Jacen has developed this habit lately of hiding on the Phantom when he thinks it’s going somewhere Interesting.)

(Which is usually whenever someone other than Mamma is driving.)

(He likes going on Adventures with his various uncles and Auntie ‘Bine, okay.)

(They go on the best Adventures.)

(But retrieving one of Kallus’s deep-cover agents whose cover was blown like a week ago at most is maaaaaaybe not the best Adventure for a three-year-old.)

Fortunately, Zeb isn’t hard to wake and grasps the situation quickly. The two of them head for the Phantom--

And find Sabine sitting there waiting for them, spinning idly in the pilot’s chair.

“...Sabine--” Zeb starts.

“Whatever it is that’s got you two running around frantically when we’re supposed to be lying low,” she says, “I wanna help. You might need backup.”

On the one hand, Kallus is pretty sure they won’t. And his prior concerns about spooking Vector if he comes in with a team still apply.

On the other hand, Sabine is one of the best people to have beside them in a crisis, if things do go all to hell. She’s creative and generally carrying an array of weapons that defies the very laws of physics.

Besides, he doesn’t have time to argue with her.

“Fine,” he says. “But you follow my lead--both of you. Neither of you has been on an extraction like this before, and this is what I do. All right?”

“All right,” Sabine says. “Who is it we’re extracting, exactly?”

“A spy, working under the code name Vector,” he says. “She’s been feeding us intel for close to three years now. Her cover was compromised, and she had to run.”

Sabine nods. “Got it,” she says.

“And, if I’m right,” he says--because if he is, Sabine will have to know before they get there, “she’s the Emperor’s daughter.”

“...all right, then,” Sabine manages, after a moment of stunned silence. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

They detach, and the Ghost disappears behind them back into hyperspace as Kallus sets a course for Ixaly.

And now, since I’m sure y’all are wondering the same thing Kallus is--i.e., how did she get caught/how did she escape--let’s backtrack and leave Kallus’s POV for another brief digression--

It all comes down to a man named Vedric Greer.

Vedric Greer is a Royal Guard. He’s been in that elite unit for over fifteen years at this point, selected more or less straight out of the Academy.

He’s been the head of Lavinia’s detail since she was twelve.

(Before that, he had a variety of assignments; he never got stuck with Vader, for which he is profoundly grateful, but he guarded a few valuable objects/locations, and he was on Tarkin’s detail for a couple of years.)

See, here’s the thing about Royal Guards. They’re put through a lot of conditioning, both physically and mentally, to become living weapons who are absolutely loyal.

And he is. Vedric Greer is an absolutely loyal man.

The thing is, to be a Royal Guard assigned to any living being other than Palpatine himself--Vader, Tarkin, Mas Amedda, Lavinia, a few others--means to be equal parts bodyguard and prison guard. Such a Guard is at least partly there to protect his principal from external threats, of course, but if said principal steps out of line or he’s given certain orders, he becomes their jailer. Or executioner. Or worse.

When he’s assigned to someone like Tarkin, of course, that isn’t much of a problem.

But a lonely, precocious twelve-year-old kid like Lavinia? Who, whatever traits she may have inherited from her father, has them tempered by an actual conscience?

...yeah, it doesn’t take a whole lot for him to bond with her, just a little.

(Throw in the fact that he has a lover, an Imperial Archivist who survived Scarif by being transferred to Coruscant days before Tarkin blew it up...well. Maybe the cracks in his armor aren’t only to do with the little girl he’s been made responsible for.)

So. Vedric Greer is a Royal Guard, and that means he is a living weapon, and absolutely loyal.

But over the past seven years--and especially the last three--maybe, just maybe, that loyalty has started to shift.

(He doesn’t even realize it, at first; and when he does notice the traces of affection, of tangential loyalty in himself...well, he reasons that Lavinia is all but an extension of her father’s will, anyway. Right? And if he conveniently fails to see certain signs...)

(Reynard, his lover, knows way before Vedric does where this is going, of course.)

And then, one morning, his orders change, and all those little things come crashing down.

(It was such a simple thing that screwed her over; Palpatine seeds bait among his minions constantly, little nuggets of information so that, if there is a high-placed leak, he can track it back to its source right away. Standard counter-intelligence, really; and everyone, everyone, is under suspicion. Everyone is tested.)

(Lavinia is normally very good at spotting this sort of thing--she has a natural aptitude for espionage, she was trained by the best, and she puts just as much effort into surviving her father and completing her mission as he did into taking over the galaxy. How else would she have lasted nineteen years as her father’s daughter--let alone three as a deep-cover Rebel spy?)

(But this time--this time she missed it. And now he knows.)

And Vedric Greer has a choice to make.

It’s surprising, in the end, how simple it is.

“My lady,” he informs her, “you are undone.”

He helps her cut out the tracking device implanted inside her ribcage (which is also fitted with a killswitch, of course, in case she ever tried to slip her leash); she asks him to come with her; he refuses.

(He is not a Rebel. He is not disloyal.)

(What he is, is her protector. What he is, is--hers.)

“I’m so sorry,” she says.

“So am I,” he says, and, “Go. I’ll buy you as much time as I can.”

“Goodbye,” she says, and disappears.

He sends a brief message to Reynard--hoping he’ll know what it means (he will; he always knew this might happen), and prepares himself to meet his death.

(Or, at least, that’s what he believes is going to happen.)

(...look, as I said before, this is Self-Indulgent BS(tm). Like I’m really gonna let Greer die. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have no earthly idea how he survives but he does. Because this is my self-indulgent BS, dammit.)

Okay. Back to Ixaly, and the actual rescue/extraction mission.

(…by which I also mean forward, since it’s like a week later.)

Our Heroes reach Central City about an hour ahead of schedule. After a brief discussion, Sabine disappears into the district to be on-hand for immediate help, if needed; Zeb, who doesn’t blend in as well, will stay with the Phantom; Kallus of course goes to the cantina to find his contact.

He heads there more or less directly, taking in as much detail of the city and the specific neighborhood as he can.

He’s been here before, but it’s been several years; there is a garrison in place, but the occupation seems comparatively light.

Which means there’s a not-unreasonable chance that this will go smoothly.

(Of course, as soon as he thinks that, he starts coming up with all the potential problems that could still happen. For one thing, he or Vector or Sabine might be recognized…)

Security on the cantina itself; mostly local talent, just as it was on his last visit. This is a fairly middle-of-the-road place; just dishonest enough that he and Vector should blend, not so dishonest that they’re likely to get caught in the middle of any…unpleasantness. Part of why he picked this place. That, the fact that it isn’t particularly difficult to find, and is fairly close to his ideal landing site.

(Not the official port, naturally; while Kallus doesn’t doubt that they could bluff their way through, he’d rather not try it on such short notice. They’d landed the Phantom on the city outskirts, about fifteen minutes away by foot.)

In other words, things are about as well-situated as they could be, under the circumstances. He has three separate exit routes at least tentatively mapped out, of varying efficiency and difficulty.

(And, if it came down to it, Sabine or Zeb could create one for him, of course, but he’d prefer to avoid that if at all possible.)

(In any case, best to have backup plans; he’ll pick the best route of the three once he has a better idea of what Vector’s capable of at the moment.)

(He’s almost certain she’s hurt, and he doesn’t know how badly, and she’ll never actually tell him, so that’s the best he can do.)

Inside, the cantina is fairly crowded--which is a mixed blessing; on the one hand, more cover for their activities/conversation, but on the other, more people to see them.

It’s a varied crowd; mostly local shift workers, a few semi-legitimate traders and mid-level bounty hunters. Most importantly, though, there are no troopers that he can identify, even off-duty. Excellent.

He gets a drink (to blend in, primarily) and finds a table in the corner where he can keep an eye on the other patrons and watch the door without being obvious about it.

He’s not kept waiting long.

She blends in pretty well--she’s managed to dress herself in a slightly-outdated local fashion, one that helpfully comes with a cowl that doesn’t quite hide her face, but does enough to keep her mostly anonymous from a distance and make dodging any security cameras easier.

(A few other women in the cantina are dressed similarly; not many, but enough that she doesn’t really stand out.)

She doesn’t head straight for him. She weaves through the crowd for a minute, hesitates by the bar as if she’s considering something, orders a drink. Her attention drifts over the crowd; she doesn’t linger on him, but her hand twitches a little.

(Ah. She spotted him, then. Good.)

(He isn’t really surprised that she figured out which Fulcrum she was working with. And it does make things simpler--there are a few signals he could have tried, but there wasn’t time, when she called, to pick one of them and be sure.)

(An advantage, if a counter-intuitive one, to using the legacy code name with her, he supposes.)

She starts moving again; doing everything right--wandering as if she’s looking for a seat, gradually making her way to a small empty table next to his.

(The whole thing takes probably less than two minutes. It feels longer. Then again, it always does--this isn’t the first time he’s met a contact like this, and that never changes. Doesn’t matter whether he’s the first or second to arrive.)

He taps out a quick signal on his commlink--contact made, everything’s on track so far--and waits.

“I have a data file for you,” she says softly. “Several, in fact.”

He smiles faintly into his drink. “Well done.”

The way the tables are laid out, they’re sitting next to one another, both with their backs against the wall. It’s a simple matter for her to slide the two drives over to him, and just as easy for him to make them disappear.

(Leaving together discreetly will be a little harder, but he’s been doing this for quite a while. They’ll manage.)

“I have transport off-planet,” he tells her. “We should wait a few minutes, not get up right away, but it’s best if we leave sooner rather than later.”

She shakes her head. “I'm not coming with you.”

(He wishes he could say he was surprised.)

He doesn’t turn to look at her, as much as he wants to. “If you’re concerned about reprisals…”

“I’m not,” she says. “Not really. It’s just…not a good idea.”

...and in the interests of “good Lord this thing is probably pushing 10k and it’s not even the full fic it’s an outline,” I’m going to skip the rest of this conversation. Suffice to say, he’s right and she’s wrong, though she takes some convincing, but they leave the cantina together like fifteen minutes later. Also, he confirms that his theory as to her identity was correct somewhere in here.

Anyway, like I said, he talks her down, and she agrees to leave with him.

Once out of the cantina, he can get a better look at her, assess how badly she’s hurt.

(He knows she is for certain now; she’s breathing carefully, shallowly, and a little too fast--but he could only see her hands and the vague shadow of her cowl before.)

“Are you all right?” he asks; even though the answer is obvious; she’s favoring her left side and very pale.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she says.

A characteristic non-answer, but a step above denial. He supposes.

“All right,” he says. “Let me know if you need help.”

(There’s not much else he can do here and now, anyway; they have some supplies back on the Ghost, and she can get proper medical attention once they rendezvous with the fleet.)

“I will,” she says, which is something at least.

They make it two blocks before they run into a squad of stormtroopers.

It’s a routine patrol; and, even with a wounded asset to escort, it wouldn’t have been a problem under most circumstances. He could avoid the confrontation, or talk his way past.

But the squad sergeant stiffens in a particular way, staring at him.

“Karabast,” he mutters.

(You’d think, after all these years, this would stop happening so often. But, no, it’s still even odds that, out in the field, someone will recognize him.)

Lavinia takes half a step back. “I can--”

“They’re not here for you,” he tells her, then drags her behind cover a split second before the troopers start firing.

Then takes a minute to take stock.

This is...not an ideal position for a standoff. And while they might be able to fight their way through...

Best plan is to stay put, hold them off as long as they can, and call in Zeb and Sabine for backup.

Good thing I listened to Kanan, he thinks.

He takes out his sidearm, then pulls his holdout pistol from his boot and offers it to Lavinia.

But she shakes her head. “Father kept my focus narrow. I’d do more harm than good.”

“...right.”

Even less ideal. But it’s all right. He can handle this.

He takes his comm, switches it to the voice setting.

“Specter Four, this is Fulcrum. We’re going to need a slightly more dramatic exit than I planned for.”

“Copy that, Fulcrum,” Zeb says. “Could use an opening, Specter Five.”

“And to think you boys wanted to leave me behind,” Sabine says.

“Yes, yes, can we save the ‘I-told-you-sos’ until after we’re clear?” Kallus says, firing off a handful of shots to keep the squad at bay.

“She does have a point, babe.”

“Not on open comms, dear, how many times...”

(Honestly, the little bit of flirting is at this point half an inside joke, after the one time they legitimately forgot to switch channels, and half a way to quickly gauge how serious the situation actually is.)

(Plus, it’s fun. They like flirting.)

“Thirty seconds,” Sabine cuts in.

“Right,” Zeb says. “I’m headed to your position. ETA two minutes.”

“Copy. Fulcrum out.”

Two minutes, under these conditions, is a long, long time.

But, right on cue, thirty seconds later, there is a magnificent explosion, which gives them some breathing room, and then Sabine slides down the wall to land next to him.

“Not my best work,” she says critically, watching the cloud on the horizon, “but it’ll clear a path. Hi,” she adds, for Lavinia’s benefit.

“Hi,” she says, softly.

“...she doesn’t have a blaster,” Sabine says, turning almost accusingly to Kallus.

“Because I’ve never had one before,” Lavinia answers for him. “And this really doesn’t seem the time or place to learn.”

“Well, we’ll fix that later,” Sabine says.

“All right,” Lavinia says, then ducks down as Sabine positions herself better to start shooting back.

The next ninety seconds go much quicker, and then comes the welcome sound of the Phantom’s engines on approach.

It’ll have to be a quick exit, and for a split second, Kallus wonders about getting Lavinia up the ramp fast enough without Zeb actually landing--

But then he sees that Sabine has her jetpack.

(He has never been so pleased to see it in his life.)

“Take her,” he says, once the shuttle is in sight. “I’ll cover you.”

Sabine catches his drift right away, and nods. “Hold on,” she tells Lavinia, who blinks, but does.

And then they’re off.

Kallus just keeps firing at the troopers until, based on the noise it’s making, he judges that the Phantom is close enough that he can make the jump.

He’s--almost right.

He comes within half an inch of missing, then Lavinia’s hands shoot out and grab one of his wrists; Sabine grabs the other and the girls haul him on board.

“We’re good, Zeb, go!” Sabine shouts, while Lavinia drags Kallus the rest of the way in and slams the hatch shut.

We did it.

He takes a minute to catch his breath--he knows it isn’t really over; there’s still a great deal of work to do once they get back to the Ghost and then to the fleet proper.

But for now--they’re all alive, they’re all safe, they’re all at least as intact as they were when they got to Ixaly; the extraction was successful.

Kallus decides to let the rest of the problems wait, and take the win.

He picks himself up and heads to the cockpit, to give Zeb a quick hug and send word to Kanan and the others.

For all the drama and the worry when it started, today turned out to be a very good day.

And I think that’s a good stopping point, don’t you? There is definitely more, featuring (in no particular order) the worlds most #Awkward Road Trip; Kanan and Lavinia meeting; Kanan and Luke finally meeting; Zeb and Kallus adopting a kid or three; Lando; Jacen being precious; and so much more.

But, uh, see all my notes above about “how long is this thing now?!”

(And, again this isn’t even fulltext.)

(This is just the outline.)

...so, uh, yeah, if you made it this far, thank you and I hope you enjoyed my Self-Indulgent BS(tm). <333333333

#shadowsong26fic #shadowsong writes star wars #shadowsong writes self-indulgent bs #au outlines for the win #tigerkat24

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