#two friends chilling on a desert planet what might they do | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jgvfhl · 3 years

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Help I can't stop--

--writing little fics that all involve saving Fives and sometimes other people and then just having Domino hugs at the end. so. yeah. This one has Tup in it! And an Ao3 link~

no warnings ^_^ about 6400 words, very fluffy by the end

Tup liked the busier nights at work, which he hadn’t quite expected. Bartending was a lot more pressure than working behind the scenes--washing dishes or prepping food before the night started--but Tup honestly liked it. Maybe it was his military training rising to the constant stream of orders and people and voices, or maybe he just liked the other bartenders better than the kitchen staff. Whatever it was, tonight was looking to be one of the busiest that week, and Tup only found happy anticipation to meet it.

Maybe a part of it was bartending meant he didn’t have Fives constantly over his shoulder, watching his every move to make sure he didn’t blow their cover or something. After over eight months here, eight months of considerable safety, he still hadn’t relaxed. The only reason Tup was “allowed” behind the bar in front of the customers was the cantina’s owner, Mira. She was the only reason either of them were alive after literally washing up on her doorstep during flood season, so she held some sway. She’d given them beds, meals, she’d never once threatened to turn them in for desertion--all for the requirement they help the aging weequay with her business, the Mirage cantina and inn. They would be fools to refuse, and if that meant Tup was up front, he went up front.

He still worried, naturally. Not so much about the GAR finding them anymore, not so much about the Jedi coming after him, not so much about how each day would end, those fears had largely subsided. Mostly, he worried about his brothers. Fives had explained the chips to him, as much as he knew. It had been a chilling revelation, and it still gnawed at both of their minds, despite having theirs removed. It was constant knowledge that each of his brothers had a ticking time bomb stowed in the back of their brain, just waiting to turn them all against the very people they were built to serve. Fives had sent an encrypted comm to the first person he thought might know how to help: Kix. Hopefully the medic would be prudent with the little knowledge Fives had sent, and hopefully he would know to keep it a damn secret until something concrete could be done about it.

Despite this--despite all of this--Tup had to leave it be. This little riverside town in the far outer rim rarely got news of the war unless battles approached, and just about no mention of Corusanti or Republic politics at all. He had no way to know what was happening. He had no way to affect what was happening. He had to leave it be. Tonight was busy enough without adding the small chaos of his own inner thoughts.

Fives had yet to accept this. Fives… Tup had been serving with Fives for almost a year now. He’d been through plenty of battles with him, hell, he’d survived Umbara with Fives. Fives had a way of… condensing his personality on the field, a way of putting the softer and more vulnerable parts of himself carefully away into some safebox behind walls to protect it from whatever he saw or did in the heat of war. But, afterwards, the old jokes and friendly punches came back in full force, usually helping everyone relax after the battle.

Fives hadn’t taken that safebox out yet.

In fact, Tup wasn’t sure Fives had escaped Ringo Vinda yet. He still saw the same guarded expressions, the same sharp, scrutinizing stare from the field. Maybe it was Tup’s “youth” showing. Shininess. But it had been over eight months since they’d escaped Kamino, and well over six since they’d faced any real danger. Fives couldn’t keep those walls up forever, could he?

Tup couldn’t really remember the last time he’d heard him laugh.

“You got everything you need over there?”

Tup pulled his mind back to his job. “Yeah, thanks, Dan,” he turned to his co-worker over his shoulder. Danula was Mira’s granddaughter, and definitely Tup’s favorite to work with out of the other bartenders. They got along famously--the first nattie friend he’d ever had.

“Looked a little lost in thought,” she replied. “Can’t have that on a busy night, you know?”

“Yeah, ‘course not,” Tup nodded, already moving to refill a pair of glasses. Service with a smile. Wasn’t that one of General Fisto’s mottos? He could have sworn he’d heard it from one of Commander Monnk’s men. Maybe in the same conversation about eating raw seafood like it was okay (which it wasn’t, it was disgusting). At least on a drier planet, he didn’t have that to bother him.

Tup caught sight of one of the regulars making his way through the crowded cantina. He glanced over his shoulder again at Dan, who was now at the other side of the circular bar. She’d be happy to see him.

“Hey, Carreth, good to see you,” Tup greeted the weequay who had arrived.

“Minnow--” Tup’s cover name, part of the precautions of desertion-- “a busy night, I see,” he smiled, craning his neck to catch a glance at Dan behind Tup. Mira and everyone who worked at the cantina knew about Carreth’s crush on Dan. Mira was fine with it, Dan’s parents were fine with it. Dan… had literally only figured it out last week. She was warming quickly to it, though. Carreth was nice, and frankly, too far gone to do anything stupid.

“Yeah, Mirage is a popular place this week,” Tup answered. “I’ll grab Dan for you.”

“Ah--I should tell you,” Carreth said, raising a hand and leaning in. “I noticed a group of your ah… family in town. They might make an appearance.”

Brothers. Tup paused, putting down the bottle of rum he’d pulled for Carreth. “How many? Can you tell me the color of their armor?”

“Kind of… black and red?” Carreth answered, tapping a finger on his chin between two horns. “Only five of them.”

Black and red? Odd. But he just nodded, casting an eye towards the doors. “Thanks for the heads up.” He filled a glass of Carreth’s preferred Corellian rum and left the bottle, then turned to get Dan.

He nearly bowled her over instead, only catching himself with half a second to spare. “Whoa! Hey, sorry--”

“Clones--at the door,” she said at the same time.

He looked. Well. He’d be hard-pressed to miss the guy who looked more Alpha-class than CT, which was more than a little worrying. But he didn’t recognize the armor at all. It didn’t even look regulation. Who were these guys?

“Okay, okay, yeah,” he said, seeing the new arrivals had put Dan on edge almost more than they had him. “Carreth just told me, he’s over there.”

“He did--wait, when--oh.” He turned her around and gave her a gentle push towards her admirer.

“Don’t worry about me, okay?” Force, he was happy Fives had the night off. He would have dragged Tup out of the bar and upstairs to their room before Carreth had finished the warning.

Tup stood his ground, now switched places with Dan on the bar. He kept an eye on the squad of five, watching carefully as they found a table on the edge of the room, then even more carefully as two of them made their way up to the bar in the center of the room.

Dan--Maker bless her--nearly gave up Carreth’s winning smiles to take their orders, but Tup wanted to find out exactly what they were doing here. He waved his hand at her, urging her back to her station.

The two men did stop and stare when he faced them over the bar. “What can I do for you?”

He used their pause to get a better look at them. The one on the left had long dark curls held out of his face by a red bandana with a small skull visible on one side of it. Speaking of skulls, it must have been their squad symbol, because half a skull was tattooed in black over the left side of his face, and the design was replicated in white on the helmet under his arm. The other, Tup had to do a double take, only because he’d never seen a clone with… studs? Ports? Metal… things implanted into his head, clearly visible because of his close haircut. Another quick glance caught the glint of cybernetic metal for a right hand. This guy had seen some things.

“Hi,” the first clone said, a little hesitant.

“This is a surprise,” the other said, a bit more confident. “Pleasant one, I guess.”

Tup shrugged. “As long as you’re not gonna get me in trouble, there won’t be any unpleasant ones.”

The second clone smiled and nodded. “I think some drinks and credits are all that need to change hands here.”

Tup liked this guy. Or at least respected him. “I can do that.”

The tattooed clone rattled off the orders in a way that said these were regular drink requests from the squad.

As he busied himself pulling out five glasses for them, the second clone asked, “Is that a tattoo there?”

Tup looked up to see his head tilted curiously, left hand pointing under his own right eye. “Uh… yeah.” He’d used to keep the teardrop tattoo covered, either a bandage or makeup when Dan could help him, but he’d been leaving it bare lately. Abruptly, Tup was aware that his looks hadn’t changed that much since Ringo Vinda. His hair was still long enough to keep in a bun, and the only difference was the shaved right side of his head where the chip had been removed. He hadn’t wanted to shave his whole head to start over, and he kind of liked the new look. But he still looked a lot like… well. Himself.

“I served with a brother with a mark like that, just looks familiar,” the clone said.

Small talk, clone style. Tup could do this. “Yeah, what was he like? Or is like.”

The other shrugged. “Kinda quiet, pretty nice kid. Didn’t know him for that long before…” He rubbed his head. “Well. Before a few incidents.” Tup could only imagine. “Never found out what happened to him, though. Guess he ran off before I got out.”

His squadmate turned a raised brow on him. “This the one your batcher dragged off about the…” He glanced at Tup. “The thing?”

Tup tried not to stare too pointedly as he finished off the third drink and moved on to the last two--the more complicated orders of the group. That sounded an awful lot like Fives talking about the chips.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Tup.”

He was rather proud of himself for not losing focus and completely ruining the cocktail by adding about three times the vodka needed by freezing up while pouring. But also who the ever-loving kriff were these guys? He started running through what the bandana-ed clone had just said. Unfortunately, he was stopped mid-review by the other one interrupting his thoughts.

“Hey, that reminds me. Can I ask something?”

Tup carefully finished the drink at hand and nodded, now kind of wishing he’d let Dan handle this. “Sure.”

“You haven’t seen any other clones since you… left, have you?”

“No, don’t think so.” Technically not a lie. He and Fives hadn’t seen any others since deserting. But, he could no longer avoid the obvious question of his own. “Can I--um… what do I call you?”

“Echo.”

Well. Tup was pretty sure there would only be one Echo who knew his name and might even be looking for him. There was only, of course, the small hurdle of his supposed death about… a year and, what--five months ago? But that might be the “incidents” he had mentioned earlier, and of course, it would explain his mention of the batchmate Tup had disappeared with.

Fives.

“Give me a minute,” he said, and hurried over to Dan across the way.

She must have been hyper-aware of the little conversation, because she had turned around before he made it to her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing, I promise,” he said. “I just need you to fill in for a few minutes, there’s something I need to take care of, then I’ll be right back, okay?”

“What?”

“Just--” He floundered a moment, debating how much to tell her. “I know one of them. He’s Blue’s best friend--like best best friend--they haven’t seen each other in a year, longer than that.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Please, they need to talk to each other, I just need to bring him upstairs, okay? Nothing’s wrong.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, her already lined skin gaining more furrows. But, eventually, she nodded, shooing him away with her hands. “Fine, but I’m not finishing this shift on my own.”

“I’ll be back,” he promised again, moving to the little door in the circular bar. He weaved his way around customers to Echo. “Hi, I’ll start over,” he began, speaking just loud enough to be heard over the music. “I’m Tup, Fives is upstairs, I’m taking you to him, okay? Cool.”

Without waiting for an answer (because it had to be yes), he grabbed Echo’s wrist and began tugging him through the throngs of people and around tables towards the “Employees Only” door that led upstairs. Echo didn’t protest. In fact, he didn’t even say much except to add to Tup’s many “excuse mes” and “thank yous” as they pushed through people to get to the stairs.

But once the door had swung back shut again, he pulled Tup up.

“What?”

Echo breathed a quiet laugh. “Hello to you too, Tup. Take a breath.”

Tup released his wrist and let him climb the stairs at his own pace. In doing so, he finally noticed Echo’s boots didn’t look quite right, and it took him several seconds to realize this was because there were no feet attached. The more he looked, he recognized cybernetics from at least the knees down on both legs. “Oh, sorry.” He wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for dragging Echo away or for not realizing what had changed.

“It’s okay.” He put a hand on Tup’s shoulder as they climbed. “How are you both? You and Fives.”

“I’m pretty good,” he answered, silently agonizing over the slower pace Echo had set. “Fives is uh…” He paused, trying to find words that wouldn’t alarm Echo too much. “He’s… been better?”

Echo raised a brow at him, hesitating a step before continuing at a slightly faster pace. “What do you mean?”

Tup sighed. “He’s… I dunno. It’s like he’s…” Words failed him again, and now they had reached the landing on the second floor. The room he and Fives shared was only five doors down. “It’s like he’s hollow, but he’s too full of too much at the same time. It’s why I didn’t want to wait for him to see you.”

Echo nodded, gesturing for Tup to lead on. “I understand. Probably wouldn’t have wanted to wait even if he was okay.”

A knot of anticipation was slowly tightening in Tup’s chest as they approached the door and Tup knocked. He knew Fives was here, and it was technically Tup’s room too, but Fives didn’t like surprises. Anymore, at least. This had to work. If there was anyone in the galaxy who could get Fives out of this person hell he’d put himself in, it was Echo, right? That was how it worked: Echo and Fives, Fives and Echo, the Domino twins, always. Tup wasn’t sure what he’d do if this didn’t work.

______

The first thing that struck Echo about the room was the clear division of lived-in disorder and absent organisation. The room itself was clearly meant for customers and had simply been repurposed to allow Fives and Tup to live there semi-permanently. There were two beds, a connected ‘fresher near the door, a table with two lamps between the beds--all the trappings of a typical (if low-end) motel. But the bed farthest from the door remained impeccably made up in military fashion, there were no personal belongings out that weren’t currently in use, not even a stray sock. It was a CO’s dream, sure, but…

He looked at the other bed--Tup’s bed. It was made, but not impeccably so. There were stray clothes in one corner, a datapad thrown on the covers, little knickknacks on the table beside it. It looked lived in. Tup had claimed this space, a while ago, from the looks of it. Echo remembered the state Fives’ bunk had been in sometimes, the utter chaos happening below his own bunk. What had happened?

“Fives?” Tup stopped where the room widened out to their sleeping area, and Echo stopped behind him.

His batchmate was sitting cross-legged on his bed with a mouse droid in front of him in carefully disassembled pieces, next to a soldering kit and a datapad. He looked a bit like Tech at the moment, except for the distinct lack of goggles and the tank top and shorts.

But it was definitely Fives. Same little tattoo on his temple, same stupid goatee on his chin.

“What’s wrong?” Fives asked, not looking up from the mouse droid’s guts. Echo frowned a little. Tup hadn’t been exaggerating. He sounded… flat.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Tup answered. “There’s someone you should see, is all.”

That made Fives look up, and his reaction was instantaneous. He shoved the soldering iron into its holder with one hand while the other found a blaster pistol that had been hidden behind his body on the bed and raised it at Echo. “Who the hell is that?” he growled in a voice Echo had only ever associated with battle. The voice alone was enough to set him on edge, like Fives had just given a warning of enemy incoming and hadn’t just pointed his blaster at him.

“It’s Echo!” Tup shot back, stepping more fully in front of him--between him and the blaster. “Fives, it’s Echo. Maker’s sake, put the blaster down.”

“Echo’s dead, and people lie,” Fives replied in the same stern voice as he rose from the bed to stand at its foot. “Get away from him.” The pistol never wavered, true to ARC standards.

Echo knew he was unrecognizable. When he’d arrived at the RMB on Anaxes after being rescued from Skako Minor, it had been painfully obvious just how much he didn’t look like himself from the way that Jesse and Kix and Hardcase and the others had reacted. Now, with a different haircut, and metal limbs, and no handprint of any kind on his armor, it wasn’t exactly a surprise that Fives didn’t believe it was him. But it still hurt like something vital had just crumpled inside his chest.

“Fives!” There was a note of desperation in Tup’s voice now. How long had they been living like this? Echo remembered the urgency with which Tup had dragged him up here, not even bothering to find out what they were doing here, or if they were a threat to their safety. A while, then.

“Get. Away.”

“No! This is ridiculous!”

“You can scan my wrist if you want,” Echo cut in, holding up his remaining arm. “ID tattoo.” The subdermal pattern of invisible ink would pull up his public military record on any device, displaying his designation and current and previous stations.

This made Fives pause, actually thinking about it.

“Please, Fives?” Tup asked.

After a tense moment, Fives exhaled sharply through his nose, which meant he had relented. He pointed towards a dresser with his free hand. “Fine, grab the scanner.”

Tup took a step forward, then paused to ask, “You’re not gonna shoot him, right?”

A muscle in Fives’ jaw flexed. “I’m not gonna shoot him.”

Tup still moved cautiously, keeping a close eye on Fives as he left his position between Echo and the blaster aimed at him. For his part, Echo slowly moved to take off his vambrace and glove on his left hand, then pulling up the sleeve of his blacks a few inches. Tup stood in front of the dresser between them, fiddling with the handheld scanner.

“Do you wanna do this?” he said to Fives, sounding… tired. Poor kid.

Fives shook his head. “You do it.” It was the gentlest his voice had sounded since they’d walked in. It gave Echo some hope. If Fives could still care this much about keeping Tup safe, the rest of him was still in there. It was just a little buried.

Tup walked over and he held out his wrist for him. The scanner sort of… tickled a bit, after being part of a computer for several months with the Techno Union. It seemed whatever they did to him had made him a bit more sensitive to the electromagnetic spectrum. The stripes of the ID tattoo lit up blue briefly as the device picked them up, and there was a soft beep when it finished.

“Sorry about this,” Tup murmured while the device was processing.

“Don’t, it’s not your fault,” Echo replied with a small smile.

He returned to Fives, holding out the device as a hologram display appeared from it:

ARC-1409

Formerly 501 Legion, Torrent Co

MIA: [unavailable]

POW retrieved from [unavailable] by Gen. Anakin Skywalker, CT-7567, CF99

Reassigned to CF99

It was different than the one Echo had seen, because the GAR devices and droids could pull up his full record, dates included, but it had the important stuff. Echo skimmed the short document, then watched Fives read it through. He saw his batchmate’s eyes hover on the picture in the upper left corner, taken about a month after his rescue. He looked much better now than in that picture. Fives read it through twice, and after the second time through, he reached out and took the device from Tup. The arm holding the pistol lowered its aim from Echo’s head to his feet.

“I have a shift to finish,” Tup said, stepping away once the scanner was out of his hands. “Don’t kill each other while I’m gone.”

Fives didn’t respond, just watched Tup turn and leave.

And that left the two of them alone.

For a moment or two, they didn’t move. Fives seemed lost in thought after reading the document, and Echo didn’t want to startle him. Eventually, he clicked the device off and set it down on top of the dresser, the arm with the blaster now hanging loose at his side.

“How did you find us?” he asked quietly, still facing the dresser. His voice was still unreadable to the inexperienced ear, but Echo could hear a difference. He was still wary. But he wasn’t actively threatening him, and that was a distinct improvement.

“Accident,” Echo replied truthfully. “We needed to stop for fuel after a mission, and the boys wanted a drink, so…” He figured the rest of the story was self-explanatory. When Fives didn’t follow with another question, he added, “Do you believe it’s me now?”

Fives’ empty hand slowly curled into a fist on top of the dresser, then slowly relaxed. “I think so,” he answered.

“Can I ask you to put the blaster down?”

His batchmate looked down at the weapon, like he’d only just noticed it. After another moment of thought, he set it down beside the scanner, then finally looked up at Echo. “What happened to you?”

He shrugged. He was used to people staring at him by now, with all his machinery, and even more used to that question. “An explosion and a few mad scientists.” He took a step towards Fives, encouraged when he made no move for the blaster in response. “The Seppies handed me over to the Techno Union after they pulled me out of The Citadel.” He gestured to his legs and head with his prosthetic hand. “They did all this.”

“Why?”

Echo took another step towards him, scrutinizing his face for the tells and signs he had grown up learning. Even ARC training couldn’t hide it all from him, so despite the emotionless front Fives had put up--and had had on since Echo had walked in, he could tell a few things. Most glaringly, he was exhausted. Beyond exhausted, in some aspects. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping well, if at all, for days at a time, if the shadows under his eyes were anything to go by.

“To get the strategic algorithm,” he answered, keeping his voice soft and even, giving no signs he could see how bad Fives looked. “The one I made with Rex. I guess they were using it on Anaxes about two and a half months after you and Tup left. Rex recognized it, and that’s how they found me.” Fives nodded. He looked numb behind the exhaustion. He rubbed his face roughly, and Echo took another couple steps forward. “No one’s coming after you, Fives.”

He watched his shoulders tense, hands still over his face.

“I mean it. The stuff you sent to Kix about the chips--you did the right thing. We’ve figured a lot of it out, we know Tup wasn’t in control of himself on Ringo Vinda. We know someone set this whole thing up. No one is coming after you, I promise.”

Slowly, Fives’ hands lowered from his face, and Echo’s heart leapt. Finally, he could see something in his eyes. They were no longer forcefully void of emotion, guarded by walls built during ARC training. It would have made Echo smile, if what he saw hadn’t been such overwhelming loneliness. It made sense now that Tup had described a kind of hollowness. If he’d seen something like it before Citadel, he would have wasted no time dragging his brother into a hug and not letting go until he felt the stress ease from his muscles. But then was not now. Fives was hurting, yes. But Echo had to be patient.

He stayed put as Fives moved again, this time over to the foot of the bed to sit on the floor, leaning back against the bedframe. Drained. “Is Tup mad at me?”

Echo did smile then, a small smile, and a little sad. “Oh, Fives,” he sighed.

Fives, always loyal to his brothers first, and the Republic second. Fives, who had always hated being left alone for any amount of time, no matter how brief. Fives, who had always spent extra time with the shinies after their first battles to make sure they took care of themselves. Fives, who had sensed the chips ran deeper than first thought, and risked his life gathering what he could to save his brothers. Fives, who had suddenly found himself without anyone, except Tup, and had done everything in his power to keep his little brother safe, no matter what it would do to him.

“No, I don’t think he’s mad at you,” he finally said, walking the few steps over until he was standing to Fives’ left. “A little frustrated you did this to yourself, maybe. But not angry.” He gestured to the floor next to his brother. “Can I sit?”

Fives nodded, barely a dip of the chin. “I just wanted to keep him safe,” he said in a very small voice.

“You did,” Echo told him as he sat down next to him, but facing towards him. “You did a great job. No one even thought to look here, no one had any idea where you two had gone.” He set down his glove and his vambrace that he’d been carrying since taking them off. Then he started taking off the rest of the armor on his arm, setting it all in a pile off to his far side.

Fives watched him, curious, but he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he wanted to know, “What did you find out about the chips?”

Echo frowned as he unclipped the sides of his chest plate and pulled the whole thing over his head. He wanted Fives to relax, to let go of the stress he’d been carrying. Talking about what they’d discovered, and what they had yet to figure out, would just get him thinking again. “Do I have to tell you now?” When Fives’ only response was dropping his gaze to the floor between his feet with a minuscule shrug, Echo elaborated. “Fives, as your batchmate, let me say this: you are dead tired. You look like you’ve been running on fumes--mentally and emotionally, if not physically--for about two weeks. Kix would scrape the medic symbol off his shoulder bell if he let you go anywhere in this state. I would rather wait until tomorrow, so I can make sure you get a good night’s rest and some breakfast, and then I will tell you and Tup everything. Okay?”

Fives knew he was right. Echo knew that he knew he was right. He drew his knees up to his chest and rubbed his face again. “Okay,” he sighed, but he didn’t look happy about it.

Echo smiled again. “You know you missed my nagging,” he said, holding out his hand.

To his utter delight, the corners of Fives’ mouth pulled up ever so slightly. He put out his hand, hesitated a little, but finally let it land in Echo’s. “Yeah, I did,” he agreed, linking their thumbs and holding tight. He let his head fall back against the mattress behind him, avoiding his brother’s gaze, but Echo’s trained eye saw the muscles in his neck constrict, saw the small stutter in his breathing, and he already knew.

“Looks like rain, huh?” he said quietly, squeezing his brother’s hand. It was an old code from Domino’s cadet days. They had all been so damn stubborn, none of them had wanted to admit when they needed a good cry. So, they had used Kamino’s weather as a cover. Fives and Echo had kept it up, even when it no longer made sense on a ship in the middle of hyperspace, for example.

Fives shut his eyes tightly and nodded, squeezing his hand in return.

“C’mere.”

He uncurled from where he sat against the bed and let Echo gather him up in his arms, holding him against his unarmored chest--because he had been pretty sure it would end up like this. Fives pressed his face into his left shoulder immediately, wrapping both arms around his torso and digging his fingers into his blacks. Echo rested his chin on his brother’s hair and put his hand on the back of his neck, holding him there while he unraveled.

How long had it been since he had seen his last batchmate? Something approaching two years at this point. Echo hugged tighter upon remembering that, and upon remembering what it had been like trying to put his life back together after the Techno Union without him. He was determined to keep Fives from going through anything like it now, even if this reunion was far from what he might have imagined.

After some time Echo didn’t bother to track, he felt Fives settle in his arms and heard his breathing descend to a more normal pace. He pressed a kiss to his head and ruffled his hair. As much as he hated hearing Fives cry, this was light years better than the calculating and emotionless man who’d had a blaster pointed at him a few minutes ago. It hurt, yes, but it was human. If it made Echo’s heart twinge a little, it was worth it to know this was normal.

“Feel better?” he murmured. Fives nodded silently, loosening his death-grip on his brother’s blacks. “Can we get off the floor now? My knees aren’t what they used to be.”

The noise Fives made was somewhere between a sob and a cough as he sat up from where he’d been slumped against Echo’s chest. But he was smiling, weakly, so it must have been a laugh. “Yeah, okay.”

Echo helped him wipe away a few stray tears. “You’re a kriffing mess, brother,” he smirked. “Maybe you can get some sleep until Tup’s shift ends, hm?”

“You’re staying, yeah?”

“Of course I’m staying,” he assured him, a little affronted he would think otherwise. Fives nodded, letting his head fall forward until their foreheads touched. Echo leaned in and felt a shaky breath of relief leave his lips.

“I really need a drink.”

Echo sat up with a smile. “You and me both, but I think sleep will be better for you.”

______

It was a little after midnight by the time Tup had finished his shift and he was climbing the stairs to his room again, this time with three beers in his hands, because he felt bad about whisking Echo off without filling his order. Echo’s new squad was still downstairs. He’d explained what had happened to them, and they had all been surprisingly accepting of it. Echo must have told them about Fives.

He hesitated in front of his door, one hand on the handle. He couldn’t hear anything from inside, which… was probably good, right? They’d had over two hours to themselves. Either they’d settled things, or they’d stunned each other. Well. He pushed the door open, knocking on it lightly as he did so.

“Hey, guys, I’m back.” He walked softly until he was in the main part of the room, then he smiled.

Echo and Fives were laid out on Fives’ bed, the latter tucked safely under his batchmate’s arm. It was the first time Tup had actually seen Fives asleep in weeks. Usually, he was still up when Tup went to bed, and awake before Tup got up. It was also the first time in months Fives had willingly put himself in contact with another person. He noticed Echo’s full kit was piled at the foot of the bed, along… along with his legs, yes. He was still getting used to that.

Echo was blinking sleepily when Tup walked in. “Hey, Tup,” he smiled. “Those for us?”

Tup held up the three bottles. “Yeah. I… felt kinda bad you didn’t get your drink earlier.”

Echo nodded. “Oh, it’s alright. But, I will certainly take that drink now, as soon as I get this lump off my arm.” He waved the hand attached to the arm Fives had pinned down.

Tup walked over and sat down on the end of the bed where Echo’s feet weren’t. “I’m glad he’s asleep.”

“Yeah, me too,” his older brother agreed, rubbing Fives’ shoulder. “But, I said I’d wake him up when you came back.” He patted Fives’ shoulder a bit more aggressively. “Come on, brother.”

It took a while, but it worked eventually. Fives grumbled quietly, at first shoving his face deeper into the pillows before Echo dragged his arm out from under him, then he hauled himself upright. Echo similarly pushed himself up, leaning against his brother.

“Hey, Fives,” Tup said, still a little uncertain.

Fives rubbed his eyes, then blinked groggily at him. Echo ruffled his hair roughly to help him wake up, and a tiny smile appeared on his face. A real one, too, not one of the tight, professional smiles Tup had seen him use in the past. “Hey, Tup.”

A huge smile lit up Tup’s face. Echo had done it. “That’s more like it,” he said triumphantly.

“Yeah, I know,” Fives said, looking a bit sheepish, which was awesome, because Tup hadn’t seen many emotions out of him other than a range of unhappy in way too long. “Sorry about… everything.”

Tup’s smile softened a bit. “Thank you. It’s okay--I mean, I’m glad you’re okay.”

He nodded back. “Yeah, well… we’re getting there.” His eyes landed on the drinks in Tup’s hand. Tup had picked out one he knew was a favorite. “Those aren’t being saved for any special occasion, are they?” he asked, gesturing to them.

Tup smirked and held them up. “Just this one,” he answered, and handed them out.

He was about to get up to get a bottle opener, then watched as Echo’s cybernetic hand plucked off the cap like it was nothing. Fives blinked at his batchmate’s open bottle, then held out his to open as well. Echo rolled his eyes, but obliged. Fives smiled again, clinking their bottles together before taking a swig.

Echo held out his hand to Tup, whose bottle remained unopened. “It’s the most hand-like thing this thing can do, please,” he urged, so Tup held out his bottle and let him open it.

Then Fives scooched back to sit against the headboard and gestured Tup over as well. “C’mere,” he said, “I’ve been a dick to you, I should start making it up.”

Tup gave another huge grin and got up to get on the other side of the bed. “Good to have you back,” he said, maybe a little smug, as he kicked off his shoes and carefully climbed in so he didn’t spill his drink.

“Glad to be here,” Fives said, putting an arm around Tup’s neck and tapping their foreheads together lightly. “Good on you for bringing in the heavy artillery,” he added, gesturing with his bottle to Echo on his other side.

Tup could only give a nonverbal sound in reply as he took a drink. Then he sighed contentedly and relaxed against Fives’ side. He hadn’t quite realized how much stress he had been carrying because of Fives, and it was all leaving him in a rush, like he’d just taken off his kit after a twelve-hour march. He felt light, and happy, and safe. And hopefully, it wouldn’t be too long before they could really go home, and he could see the rest of his brothers. The thought made him smile as he listened absently to Fives and Echo chat about nothing in particular. Yeah. This was good.

#looks long huh #my writing #my fanfic #tcw fanfic #i write things sometimes #arc trooper echo #arc trooper fives #clone trooper tup #fix it fic #domino twins #*cries in loving domino squad*#this au brought to you by:#EVERYONE IS FINE #userblossom

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hankwritten · 3 years

Text

Hofstadter’s Law

Demoman/Soldier, 2k

Request for MinnesotaMedic821, Drunk

“You sure this best way in, Jane?” Demo muttered quietly as he gazed up at the looming concrete spires of BLU base.

“I am very sure!” Soldier said, not quietly at all. Practically yelling actually. Right in Demo’s ear too, what with his arm slung around the RED’s shoulders as the only thing keeping him upright.

“Shhh!” Demo hushed him. “You want me to go half-deaf as well as half-blind? ‘Sides, the last thing we need right now is the other BLUs hearing us.”

Soldier’s head, lolling like a pad of butter sliding around a hot pan, took a long and winding trip from one side to the other. “…Why?”

“…Because I’m a RED in the middle of a nest o’ BLU corn snakes?” Demo raised a brow. “Ach, you really did have a number done, didn’t you? Remind me not to let you near the Everclear again.”

“Okay! I will definitely remind you!”

Demo eyed him dubiously. “Remind me what, Jane?”

The grey shell of the helmet stared at him for several seconds. “…What?”

“Let’s just get you in, aye? We can do all sorts of filling in each other’s memories when your toesies are tucked safe under your covers.”

But in order get the Soldier safely in bed, they’d need to first traverse the minefield of potential termination that was the center of BLU operations. No problem at all really. It was late—even if some of the mercs had hit the town like Demo and Soldier had, they’d certainly be back by now, fast asleep, no chance at all of waking up and discovering a very difficult to explain situation in the form of an enemy merc carrying around their Soldier. As long as they were quiet, they’d be perfectly safe.

Demo guided Soldier towards the back doors, at which point they promptly ran into the enemy Demoman.

The BLU, spread out on a fabric lawn chair surrounded by dust, desert, and least a half-dozen bottles, blinked wide-eyed at the pair who’d just come around with the low-speed but high-inertia gait of a drunk couple. He shook his head slightly, as though to dispel the ‘ole three am fog and ascertain that yes, that truly was his teammate being helped along by the RED demolition’s man. Demo, for his part, froze like he’d been staked to the ground.

Soldier, as heavy things are want to do, kept going at his expected velocity. It nearly took them both over—Demo had to abandon the arm under his shoulders, lunging to haul Soldier up the waist and folding him in half like a Panini.

“Well,” the BLU in the lawn chair said, “you two look like you had fun.”

His face was a mish-mash of raised brow and, perplexingly enough, a smirk at the corner of his mouth as he bore witness to the two truants. Most shockingly of all, there wasn’t a trace of surprise on his face now, just those shades of smug amusement you put on when watching a particularly entertaining drunkard. The fact that Demo was used to having that expression leveled at him was neither here nor there.

“Er…” he said eloquently.

The flash of dread that’d shot through him when he’d caught sight of the BLU was the worse case scenario of course: reported on, fired, dead in a gravel pit somewhere, all rendered in gory detail by his mind’s eye. (His overactive imagination a bloody menace sometimes.) But as the BLU continued to sit there, not sounding the alarm, not even looking particularly worried, Demo’s fear for his own neck slowly morphed into confusion.

“I was just er-”

“Oh, hello Demoman!” Soldier chimed in. “We have been out. Drinking alcohol!”

“I’ve heard that’s a fun pastime,” his teammate commented mildly.

“Don’t tell him that,” Demo complained, hauling Soldier to an upright position. “Jesus, this er, isn’t what it looks like, honestly.”

“Sure it isn’t,” the BLU said, wearing what could now be identified unmistakably as a smirk. He gestured with his bottle. “Back entrance ‘s that-a-way.”

A little ball of defensiveness, not matter how unjustified, rolled around in Demo’s gut to the point he wanted to stop and give the other Demoman a piece of his mind. Which would probably involve lying. And then consequences to lying since Soldier had already given away this wasn’t a one time thing. He shut his gob and took the out.

Until the hum of the BLU’s resumed tune was far behind them, until the curving architecture of the base would keep them from being overheard, he didn’t dare start asking questions. Only when he was sure that the corner they’d rounded was at a significant distance away did he accusatorily hiss, “what was that about?”

“Hm?” Soldier asked pleasantly. He fixed a dopey smile on his friend, a second ago which had been the responsibility of a beetle crawling a tuft of bullheadidly tenacious grass.

“Your Demo, why’d you tell him where we were? And why didn’t he flip out?”

“You’re my Demo,” Soldier hummed unhelpfully.

“Ach,” Demo said, realizing he’d get nowhere with the security lights and a whole herd of horseflies bearing down on them. “Fine, lets get you inside first. But I’ve still got some bloody questions.”

They’d arrived at the unassuming little door cut into the base’s thick concrete, welded metal gushing haphazardly from its size as though its very addition had been an afterthought. Demo motioned at Soldier.

“Pass me your keycard, lad.”

“M’what?”

“Keycard.” Demo’s heart sank. “You keep it in your wallet or something, right?”

Soldier stared at the card reader. He stared at long and hard, so long and hard that Demo was starting to wonder if the question had made it through his ear canals at all when he concluded, “I forgot it.”

“You for- Oh for the love of Pete.” Demo took the hand that wasn’t supporting his mate and rubbed it long suffering across his face. “Well that’s great. Bloody great, risk my arse hauling a drunken fart back to his base cause he can’t hold his bloody liquor, and we can’t even get in to the fecking-”

The door hissed, layers of dust shaking loose like with a sci-fi swish as the vacuum seal was opened to the desert night. Demo gawked, watching it shake away grit like it was built into the surface of Mars instead of a dead-end town in the middle of New Mexico, and letting out a wash of air-conditioned oxygen.

When it was partially ajar, it unveiled the BLU Sniper, arms folded and leaning on the inner wall.

“How…what?” Demo asked. Soldier was too busy looking at the beetle again to be perplexed.

“Heard you guys arguing from the roof.” Sniper jerked his thumb upwards. “If you were sneaking ‘round, might want to think about keeping your voice down in the future. Probably could’ve heard you all the way at RED.”

“I wasn’t- We weren’t-”

Sniper waited. When no adequate explanation was forthcoming he said, “you comin’? Cold air’s getting out.”

Demo grimaced, and began the arduous processes of lugging the Soldier inside.

Chill ran up where his t-shirt had sweated to his neck, Soldier fairing no better since they’d spent the past half hour (every moment since Demo had realized Soldier would be going nowhere on his own) with their sides pressed together. He hadn’t realized how exhausted he was until the cold ai) brought the slightest suggestion of relief to his (admittedly also not terribly sober) body.

“If this is going to be a running thing for you two, maybe don’t get so munted next time, yeah?” Sniper offered. It was neither reprimanding nor conversational, like this was a totally normal exchange happening here with a RED in a BLU hallway.

“Who said anything about a ‘running thing’?” Demo demanded. “You didn’t overhear that!”

Sniper raised a brow. “Soldier said you were his new best mate. I assumed that meant you’d both be out and about more than once.”

Demo grit his teeth, the pieces clicking into place. “Did he now.” He leveled his best attempt at a glare from his blindspot at the disoriented Soldier who, unsurprisingly, was more interested in resting his head on Demo’s shoulder than being reprimanded. “Well that’s good to know. Any chance you can point me to his room?”

Sniper took one gloved hand and shoved a thumb over his shoulder.

“Thanks. Cheers.”

“Goodbye Sniper,” Soldier said belatedly, a good three minutes after he’d disappeared around a corner. “Oh hey! My room!”

“Jane, is there anyone you didn’t tell about us?” Demo demanded.

Soldier thought for a moment. “…I didn’t tell any REDs.”

“Jane,” Demo groaned. “This is supposed to be a secret. What if one of them tells the Administrator? You want that? Going to be hard ever meeting up again if we’re both six feet under.”

For the first time, a bit of shame managed to reach the Soldier through the woolen mesh of his inebriated state, and he looked at his shoes. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I just got really excited. Wanted everyone to know I was hanging out with you.”

Demo sighed heavily, not up bullying his friend when he was in such a pathetic sate already. “I know you were. Ach, it’s fine. We’ll talk ‘bout it later.”

Later being sometime after he’d managed to deposit Soldier onto a four-poster, though with the way the night was going it seemed like that moment would never arrive. His outlook wasn’t improved when he opened the door of Soldier’s room and found that not only was it Soldier’s room, but the occupancy of the entire Offense division.

“Whzzat?” Scout said, rolling to his elbow just in time to be bombarded by the hall light. “Ahg, dammit Sol. What the hell man?”

Demo didn’t bother freezing this time, successfully desensitized to literally every BLU on the planet stumbling across his ill-advised trip through the enemy base. Instead, he walked over, dropped Soldier on the bed, and began helping him unlace his boots.

“What the-?” Scout said when he finally lowered his arm. “Oh right. You. Jesus, how ‘bout a little consideration for the sleeping guy?”

“Mmrrhaunna,” came from the bundle in the corner.

“Yeah, what they said.”

“You don’t got the right to be begging consideration from anyone, jackrabbit,” Demo said hotly as he frees the military-grade combat boots from Soldier’s feet. He threw a blanket over the man’s form, who sighed appreciatively and said something about how this would earn Demo a medal. “‘Sides, don’t need to worry about me no more. I just came to drop of your sergeant and get out of here.”

To prove it, he backed out of the room with hands raised. Mission complete. Time to get out of here and bring this mortifying night to an end.

He might have gotten away with it too, if Pyro hadn’t shot straight up and pointed an accusing finger at him. “Mrrhaha! Hudda hah ha hoo.”

Demo reared back slightly from the Pyro who was still very much in their rubber suit, now with added nightcap. Whatever the hell they were saying, they were very impassioned about it. He looked to the Scout for help.

“They want you to tuck them in too,” he said, and the light flooding in from the single open door was good enough to see that he was smirking as he did so.

“Wha- I’m not bloody tucking anyone in,” Demo said hotly.

“Hudda ha. Mrra haa hur ha.”

“You tucked Soldier in,” Scout translated. “Only fair.”

“Gurrhaha.”

“…Otherwise they’ll tattle.”

“I cannae bloody believe this,” Demo groaned, rubbing his face.

Grudgingly, he made his way over the giggling pyrotechnician, absolutely giddy to have gotten their way. Thankfully boots weren’t part of the pajama equation, and Demo had only to tuck in the blanket’s edges ‘round a pair of socked feet and a squirming, suit-clad body. When he tried to leave it at that, a keening noise stopped him, and he was forced to repeat the process for Mayor Balloonicorn. All the while, he could feel the Scout staring smugly at the back of his head.

“D’awww, ain’t that adorable. Going to be hard to be scared of you now, though. Y’know, after you swung by to give us goodnight kisses and all that crap.”

“Just for that, I’m going to have a sticky trap with your name on it, boyo,” Demo pointed an accusing finger in Scout’s direction. He just shrugged.

“But uh,” Scout added, just as Demo was finally about to make his escape. “Glad you turned out to be cool though. He was really gung ho about tonight. Its nice he has good friends besides us.”

Demo cast his gaze to Soldier, who’d fallen fitfully in the short while it’d taken to get Pyro off his back.

“…That’s good. It was a fun time.”

“Oh yeah?” Scout wiggled his eyebrows. “How fun?”

Demo took one of the pillows he’d used to burry Pyro in and flung it at Scout’s face.

“Sticky trap. Your name.”

He could still hear Scout snickering all the way out into the hall.

#demosolly #tf2 fanfiction

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alittlefrenchtree · 3 years

Text

Helloooo! Guess who’s back? The Dune notes! yaayyyyy!

ok, chill.

SPOILERS BOOK 2 : MUAD’DIB (Chapters 1-4)

Chapter 1:

I’m still struggling to get all the politic aspects and understand who’s on which side but that’s not what I’m focusing on right now. Once I’ve read the whole thing and had the whole picture, I’ll study all the details of this part of the story.

I loved this quote:

in the French translation, and thought it was beautiful to see Arrakis through Paul’s mind and eyes only to find out that the original quote said stuff like Cheddar-colored. Damn you, American people.

Chapter 2:

Bless you, Muad’Dib, your father and Princess Irulan. Might your words be heard loud and clear on every planet of every universe.

I love, love, love this chapter. This whole conversation between Hawat and the Fremen, the world building made through it and through the Fremen is really good. I don’t think the Fremen has a name because he’s exactly what he describing of his people. He’s only one to serve the whole clan.

Many interesting stuff about the conversation and the scene.

First, I wonder if the Mentat’s abilities can work on Fremens? This part seems to say that they can’t : "But still he did not know what this Fremen wanted and this rankled. Mentat training was supposed to give a man the power to see motives." Then here again : "He said worm. He was going to say something else. What? And what does he want of us?" It’s funny to see how Hawat’s powers seem to be limited after we saw part of what Jessica and Paul were able to do.

"You must make a water decision, friend."

is my favorite quote of the chapter. The whole chapter is built to make Hawat and the reader really understand how primordial the water is. Blood doesn’t exist in the Fremen’s mouth, life is all boiled down to water. They doesn’t seem to care about the Spice either. When he’s thinking in terms of currency, it’s not about the Spice or money, it’s still about water:

"You think we have the Byzantine corruption. You don’t know us. The Harkonnen have not water enough to buy the smallest child among us."

It’s one thing I find fascinating about sci-fi/fantasy writers who are creating whole new worlds in different universes. It’s not only about thinking about crazy new technologies or super powers or anything like this. It’s when they shift the whole logic because context is different and you see it in the smallest details, in ways of speaking, in turns of phrases. It’s where you find so much richness for a fandom. And get so easily immersed in the said new universe. Every time I'll get really thirsty in the future, I'll think about this chapter. And the water decision.

I’m guessing water is one of Dune’s real plot? Every stranger coming to Arrakis comes for the Spice, thinking it’s the goldmine of the planet, the way to conquer it and truly owns it. But it’s not and the Fremen are still the one owning the desert powers because they’re the only one seeing that Arrakis needs to be ruled by water and not by the Spice? I don’t know. But that’s where my guesses are heading at the moment.

About this,

I’m really curious about how they’re going to handle on screen the deep religious roots of a large part of the story. We all know how tricky it can be. Is it going to be tone down? Are we going to see people living in the desert worship a young white male? We’ll see.

Chapter 3:

It’s cute to see how, even if Paul sees himself as a some kind of monster or as something else and undefined, he’s still sensitive to what he sees with his powers of prescience. But it's difficult to get a grip on what he is exactly, and how he feels.

Ok-- wait a minute. Last time I’ve heard about Liet, it was supposed to be a local divinity and now… Liet is Kynes. Ok. If you say so. — does it mean there going to be some kind of competition between Liet and the Muad’Dib? About who has the biggest divine aura? About who’s supposed to lead?

Anyway, what Kynes says, it goes with what I mention earlier. About how all the different people who came on Arrakis have failed to make it a Paradise because they were all focused on the Spice instead of the water.

I love how convenient Paul and Jessica are as characters to introduce the descriptions of every room they step in. You can go wild on details and just be like that’s not me, the bene gesserit/mentat/whatever Paul is things are calling for all. the. details. I should do that. Only write characters who allow me to naturally waste 7 lines of words on the pattern of a wallpaper. Frank Herbert doesn’t do that, but I definitely would.

Again, it’ll be interesting to see how Tim is going to handle the Paul and Kynes’ confrontation/conversation. We’ve seen him touch on these kind of feelings and behavior with The King but Paul seems to require a lot more of everything. So I’m impatient to see.

And I’ve already leaked the quote but let's look at it once more time. Quickest way to prove Timmy is the right cast for Paul.

"In this moment he'd give his life for Paul, she thought. How do the Atreides accomplish this thing so quickly, so easily?"

Because that’s what Timmy does, right? Makes people ready to give their life for him.

Ok about Duncan… We’re back at it, right? He’s not dead until I’ve seen the body. And I didn’t see the body so, he’s not dead. I think? Paul’s abilities don’t seem to be 100% reliable (at least not yet) so even if he believes Duncan’s dead, he might not be. I certainly hope so. My boy Jason deserves more.

I still wonder how the power of prescience is working. Are the blind spots blind because Paul is living through them at the moment and can’t have knowledge of the immediate future OR would they have been blind even if he had looked in their direction long before?

I was also wondering if Paul was going to rely too much on the new dimension of his abilities and how long it was going to take until he realized he made that mistake. It was… quick but I guess it’s Paul, so it shouldn't be surprising.

And that fear litany ❤️ I could kill to write something as iconic and powerful. I could read it every day and still got the chills each time.

Chapter 4:

The Baron is like me, he needs to see bodies to believe in death. I’m delighted to have common ground with that creepy, disgusting asshole. Delighted. To be honest, I’m not that interested with the Baron himself. So far, he’s been nothing but clichés over clichés and really not the best ones. He’s the evil character so he's all the kinds of evil. Shocker. I usually like evil characters (very often more than I love "good" ones) but not him. Really not him. I hope it'll change but I’m afraid he’s too far gone and beyond redemption.

I’m very interested by what’s Hawat is going to become though. Will he turn his allegiance to the Baron? It kind of remind me of Teal’c in Stargate SG-1, but the other way around. The Baron opposes two things : Hawat’s loyalty and his admiration towards those who calculate without emotions. Based on what we know about Mentats and how the human part carried by the human body overpower the Mentat’s education and training, I’d say loyalty should win? And the part of me who is part Mentat agrees on the loyalty so, we’re all good. But it can be an interesting storyline, so I’m waiting for it.

What’s funny about this quote

is that he could very much be talking about Paul and still be right. Or the baby sister. Or Lady Jessica. All Harkonnens are waiting.

And what’s also funny is how The Baron thinks of Feyd-Rautha. In addition of being absolutely disgusting there are some similarities between what the Baron wants for Feyd and what Paul is meant to be/already is.

I wonder if Feyd is meant to become some kind of opposite alter-ego to Paul. A better, more subtle opposant than the Baron. Could be fun.

You know what? Every time I start this kind of post, I said to myself: I'm pretty sure I haven't that many notes this time, it should be quick. And then here we are again 🤷🏻‍♀️ See you next time! 🌖💛

#DUNE FIRST READ

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c-c-cherry · 4 years

Note

Hmmmmm... JotaKak headcanons? If you want to, of course, just thought some p3 would be nice. It can be platonic or romantic, whichever you like best!

Yo! I’m such shit at writing shippy stuff so I went down the platonic bro route :)

You can tell I have insane brain rot right now because I went a bit too hard on all of these oops-

I’m so sorry about the last one its too cursed drghkjfhg

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Kakyoin is a very active sleeper.

-You can always catch him moving around, twitching, mumbling, etc…he’s a nightmare to share a bed with

-He can’t control it at all, so Jotaro would pay no mind to it when they had to share rooms and tried to ignore it—until it got progressively worse

-He started to notice when Kakyoin would get nightmares, he wouldn’t be able to wake up from them, he would just keep on thrashing around until someone would shake him awake (which he ends up doing more times that Kak would like to admit)

-He never talks about what they're about but judging on what he says in his sleep, Jotaro has a pretty good idea

-He absolutely cannot be touched when he’s finally awake, so stand hugs become a recurring thing :)

- It gets to a point where Star ends up sitting at the end of Kakyoin’s bed all night just watches him to make him feel safer

-Jotaro claims that he doesn’t have control over Star Platinum’s overprotective nature but that’s not entirely true

Since they’re the only two who speak fluent Japanese, they crack jokes with each other all the time and have little conversations with each other way more than they do with the others.

-Kakyoin spent a pretty long period of time studying English (having no friends will do shit to you,) but Jotaro isn’t as confident with his

-Kakyoin is the only one in the group who knows that Joot isn’t just soft spoken, but instead mega self-conscious about his English

-Does he make Kakyoin order food for him? Yes. Does he make him ask for directions? Yes. Does Kakyoin always tease him about it? Yes.

-Kakyoin makes Jotaro speak only in English an hour before they go to bed to help him learn and he feels so fucking stupid because his pronunciation is awful and he can barely say any shit without his face turning red but he does it anyway because he knows it'll help :)

Jotaro is not emotionless.

-I read in the back of my Stardust manga that Jotaro just bottles up his feelings for the sake of the importance of the mission to defeat DIO and I just- dfkjghsdahfd

-Although Kakyoin just cries freely whenever he feels like it, our boy Joot Doot has alternative outlets

-Shit like crying in the shower, while everyone’s asleep, or outside are stuff he’ll do but only if he’s positive that he’ll be alone

-After a particularly rough fight, they checked into their hotel rooms and while Kakyoin left to go get something to eat, Jotaro just collapses onto his bed and fuckin bawls

-Star is squeezing him so hard and he’s so out of it that he doesn’t even notice Kakyoin walk back into the room and jesus is our boy shocked

-Jotaro braces himself for a round of taunts but instead he just sits down next to him and asks him if he wants to talk about it :’)

-He doesn’t but its always good to have a bro to sit and cry with

After the Death 13 fight, Kakyoin refuses to sleep.

-Fairly enough, he’s worried that he might not wake up again

-He knows he should talk to someone about it, but if he brings up anything that happened in the desert that day, they‘ll just assume he’s lost his mind again

-So he refuses to sleep, instead

-Jotaro starts to notice things when Kakyoin starts looking rough—our boy had the eyebags, the exhausted expression, on-edge demeanor, the whole-ass package— but Kakyoin just dismisses it as nothing

-He decides to wait to go to sleep until Kakyoin closes his eyes first, and when he just doesn’t, he starts to get concerned

-Jotaro finally confronts him about it and Kakyoin gets ready to deny any of his questions, but something inside him snaps and he tells him everything and Jotaro believes him

-Death 13 was the only tarot card they hadn’t fought yet, so why would he lie about that?

-Although he offhandedly refuses to sleep, the next night Jotaro busts in with this giant mug of sleepy tea and makes him drink every last drop in front of him

-Jotaro thought that would convince him to finally close his eyes, but once he feels too tired to keep them open, he starts freaking the fuck out

-The night ends with Star Plat holding him until he’s able to get to sleep (because who wouldn’t feel safe in the warm arms of a purple punch ghost?) and Jotaro making sure that he stayed that way

-His insomnia never fully went away, but he’s got his best homie to help him out whenever sleep ails him :)

Jotaro is actually really insecure about his height.

-It was pretty typical to poke Joot about his height because, well, he’s a 17 year old that already reaches 6’5”

-It was also pretty typical for Joot to pull down his hat and say nothing because that’s how he reacts to everything

-It wasn’t until the two of them were chilling in their hotel rooms one night when Jotaro quietly popped the question: “Do you think I’m too tall?”

-Kak almost laughs at that but when he sees the concerned look on his face, he realizes, oh my god, he’s actually serious

-His mind immediately goes back to all the times that he’s seen Jotaro staring at himself in the mirror, preferring to sit in the back of the car and never walking side-by-side with any of them

-And he suddenly feels really, really bad

-Jotaro doesn’t talk about it much, but Kakyoin knows he feels the worst when Joseph talks about it even though he knows Joseph is probably just proud of the Joestar trait being passed on

-He stops making comments on his height and always makes sure that he’s not seen as some kind of “freak” for something as stupid as his height :)))

They tried to dye Jotaro’s hair once.

-YES this is total crack but here me out

-Kakyoin finds some cheap-ass hair dye in some store or market

-He busts in and before Jotaro can even speak, Kakyoin is already planning how he’s gonna do this

-Joot is completely opposed to the idea, but Kakyoin says he’ll tell Avdol and Polnareff that Jotaro ate the rest of their chocolate (which he did in fact do)

-They grab some bleach, lock their door, and get ready to screw themselves over

-The process goes a little something like this:

“Okay...the bleach is supposed to sting pretty badly...think you’ll be okay?”

“Just shut up and get it over with.”

*starts spreading bleach*

“ORAAAAA—”

-Turns out that despite punching the shit out of people being his job description, Jotaro has the most sensitive scalp on the planet

-Star Platinum is freaking out, grabbing his hair with one hand and trying to find shit to throw with the other, and Jotaro is sitting there with this blank, lifeless stare

“I’m guessing it hurts?”

“...”

“...yeah.”

-Is Jotaro starting to freak out a bit? Maybe. Do they stop now...?

-They don’t really have a choice because Star just demolished the hotel alarm clock

-They started right in the middle of his head, and when Jotaro looks in the mirror he sees this patch of blond right in the dead centre of his scalp and lets out this bewildered and devastating yelp

-Kakyoin get’s this awful feeling in his stomach they had just royally fucked up, and when it still stays there after they try to wash it out he knows they did an oopsie

-Joot is just standing there in shock and Star starts trying to rip out his own hair and Kakyoin is praying to god that they don’t wake up the others

-They end up just saying fuck it and putting in the dye anyway because he can’t just have a blond spot for the rest of the trip

-The stuff Kakyoin picked out was actually a shade of purple so dark that it almost looks black and it actually works out almost perfectly

-Most of it is covered up by his hat but there’s a little streak that pokes out into the open and it glows in the sun :)

-No one knows about this and no one even NOTICES until they get back from Egypt and Holly is like “YOU DYED YOUR HAIR?! IT LOOKS SO CUTE!” and at this point Jotaro has just completely stopped caring about it because it was weeks ago and gives them this deadass “yep” and walks out of the room

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

hggggnnnnn here’s some feral head canons for y’all, I hope you're having a nice Wednesday! If you have any questions/requests/vibes, you know where to find me :)

#headcanons #jjba headcanons #jjba #stardust crusaders #kakyoin noriaki #jotaro kujo #ask-c-c-cherry

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spacialsojourn · 3 years

Text

First Contact

------------Show Pesterlog ------------

New Message from: grimauxiliatrix

GA: Hello GA: My Apologies For Contacting You Seemingly Out Of The Proverbial Blue GA: But I Noticed That Your Username Is Quite Similar To One That A Friend Of Mine Used To Have GA: It May Just Be A Coincidence However On The Off Chance That You Might Know Her GA: Are You At All Familiar With The Name Vriska Serket GA: If Not Then I Apologize For Taking Up Your Time GA: This Is Just The First Time I Have Had Access To Any Sort Of Electronic Communication In A Couple Of Sweeps GA: Though If You Are Not Familiar With The Name Vriska Then I Suppose The Term Sweep Is Likewise Meaningless To You GA: Suffice To Say That It Has Been Quite A While Since I Was Last Able To Even Attempt A Search For The Individual I Am Seeking In An Online Platform GA: And It Is Either Very Fortuitous GA: Or Else Very Coincidental GA: I Personally Am Expecting The Latter But Hoping For The Former AG: Oh wow AG: I wasn't expecting any8ody to ever message this account ag8in. I haven't gotten a message here since AG: Wow, fuck, years ago at this point AG: Kan???????? AG: Are you here??????? AG: Are you Human???????? GA: You Will Have To Define What You Mean By Here GA: But Yes I Am Human

AG: Earth.

GA: I Have Been For Approximately Two Sweeps Now

AG: I mean that already answers my question and I feel like that was pretty o8vious in the context

GA: Possibly

AG: 8ut fuck, 4 years???????? AG: Where are you? Are you s8fe? AG: I mean o8viously you're not dead otherwise we wouldn't 8e having this convers8tion. AG: I've never 8een happier to see your prissy quirk in my entire fucking life this is am8zing

GA: I Am Still Trying To Reconcile Your Presence With The Wasteland Landscape I Have Been Trekking Through For What Feels Like Ages GA: But All Things Considered I Am Doing About As Well As One Can Be On An Alien Planet In A Body Not Ones Own GA: You Are Correct However GA: I Am Not Dead GA: Anymore GA: But I Was For A Short While GA: It Sucked Just As Much As The Last Time It Happened GA: Though It Was Much Slower This Time GA: So It May Have Actually Been Worse In Retrospect GA: And My Quirk Is Not Prissy

AG: Yeah the w8stelands fucking suck AG: Do you need assistance? I don't even know where the fuck you are 8ut I can send like........ AG: A caravan or something out to come get you. 8ring you 8ack to my Mansion and get you out of the fucking dust AG: Terezi's here. Sollux, too. AG: No8ody else has come forward yet 8ut that doesn't mean they're not kicking a8out somefucking where AG: Did SkaiaNet respawn you? AG: And yeah, it is Kan. It's shockingly prim and proper for a mid-spectrum j8de8lood 8ut that's the least important thing we're talking a8out so try to st8y on topic, thanks

GA: It Is Not Prissy GA: Especially As None Of Us Can Be Considered Any Sort Of Caste On The Hemospectrum Anymore GA: Though I Must Confess To Being Surprised And Not At All Shocked That You Are Living In A Mansion GA: Again GA: Did This One Come With A Gigantic Spider Monster As Well GA: GA: But No GA: Skaianet Did Not Revive Me GA: If Anything GA: They Were The Spark That Caused My Death GA: I Am Still Not Sure How I Managed To Revive GA: All I Do Know Is That I Am Some Sort Of Human Equivalent To Rainbow Drinkers GA: But I Am Not Sure If I Qualify To Be A Vampire As I Can Still Walk About In The Sunlight GA: I Do Not Know Where I Am Either If You Were To Try And Send Someone To Guide Me To You GA: The Closest Thing I Can Figure Out Is That I Am Somewhere That Is Yet More Desert GA: It Almost Makes Me Feel Hivesick For Alternia GA: Almost

AG: All Rust8loods all the w8y down 8a8ey AG: I keep w8ing for some8ody like Eridan or may8e even the 8atterwitch herself to come through AG: and just end up shitting a fucking cluck8east at 8eing stripped of their no8ility AG: It'll 8e hilarious when it happens AG: Oh my fucking god AG: Of course you'd 8e a vampire AG: That's hilarious. I mean, not the having to die to 8ecome one part AG: 8ut that the Earth recali8r8ion just went 'you know what? this ones a vampire' AG: Regardless, there's no point in arguing 8ecause your quirk is just inherently prissy AG: and I'm not the only person who thinks that AG: AND there's more important shit to talk a8out so I don't know why that's shoving a stick so far up your ass ::::// AG: Almost everywhere is desert. You're somewhere with internet though and that narrows things down AG: If we can't use landmarks to try and figure it out, I'll message Sol and get his ass on it AG: Oh AG: Also AG: I go 8y 'Spin' now

GA: I Will Admit That You Mentioning The Idea Of The Condesce Herself Coming Here And Finding Herself Reduced To A Red Blooded Human Has Made Me Smile For The First Time In What Feels Like A Perigree GA: Your Joy At My Vampiric Status Is Not As Endearing However GA: I Will Stand By My Statement That My Quirk Is Not Prissy GA: Your Quirk Is Simply Too Loose And Lax With Rules For Clear Communication GA: As For Why It Is Jamming A Proverbial Arboreal Rod Up My Waste Chute I GA: GA: Admittedly Do Not Know Why I Am Getting So Defensive About It GA: It Just Feels Like I Have Not Had A Proper Moment To Rest Since I Revived GA: And I Am So Tired Vriska GA: I Am Tired And Angry And I Want To Just Find Someplace That Will Not See Me Run Out Of Whatever Settlement I Find As Soon As They Even Begin To Suspect That I Am Who I Am GA: So Forgive Me For Being Defensive Of Something That Makes Me Feel A Little Less Like Some Kind Of Unwanted Monster GA: I Would Think That Of Everyone In Our Old Friendship Circle You Would Be Able To Understand That Desire GA: GA: GA: Spin GA: GA: Why Did You Change Your Name To Spin GA: I Always Thought That You Had A Lovely Name With Vriska

AG: I'll l8y off of it AG: And nahhhhhhhh I've had to expl8in my quirk a8out a dozen times to people who don't know why I type like I do AG: It's pretty simple, hardly a 8arrier, 8ut then you've got Miss Crisp Annunci8ion over here AG: 8ut whatever, it's fine, it's honestly the least offensive quirk that exists on Earth right now AG: No repl8cements, no shorthands, you get what you see. Refreshing since Sol is using ii's, 2's, and 0's which looks like hell AG: Humans fucking suck AG: Especially Humans who never experienced the G8me at all AG: Fuck them, 8unch of useless NPCs out here 8eing ******** and passing judgement they don't have the right to fucking pass AG: Let me come get you. If I can find where you are, you can have the fucking presidential suite to chill out in AG: I've got a good infrastructure here, there's electricity and running water AG: We've got our own water treatment plant for the mansion itself, as well as another couple for the rest of L8dy's country AG: We've got food, and shelter, we've got fa8ric8ion 8uildings and shit AG: You'll 8e s8fe here. Away from SkaiaNet AG: Spin just....... fits 8etter, I guess. I've met a lot of my altern8s and I don't really want to associ8 with them AG: They all fucking suck lm8o

GA: I Had Nearly Forgotten How Much Of A Pan-Ache I Would Get From Reading Too Many Of Solluxes Messages In A Row GA: GA: GA: GA: GA: I Cannot Tell If This Is You Trying To Hype Up An Otherwise Mediocre Settlement That You Have A Minor Role Of Authority In GA: Or If You Actually Have A Mansion With All Those Amenities And Are Sincere In Wanting To Share Them With Me GA: If It Is The Latter Then I Cannot Guarantee How I Will React GA: But I Will Take You Up On Your Offer GA: Even If It Is Not As Advanced As You Are Claiming GA: If Only Half Of It Is True Then That Is Still Far Better Than I Have Been Able To Gain Access To Since I Arrived On This Planet GA: GA: And As Hard A Time As Myself Or Others Might Give You For Some Of Your Ethical Choices Vriska GA: You Should Not Be So Hard On Yourself GA: Not Even If It Is Not Technically You GA: All Alternates Are Shadows Of Ourselves And Who We Could Have Been Or Could Yet Be GA: We Have Been Getting The Shit Kicked Out Of Us Since We Picked Up That Accursed Game GA: Do Not Do SGRUBs Job For It Now That We Have Finally Escaped Its Grasp

AG: No AG: Kan AG: You don't understand AG: I am the QUEEN of L8dy's Country, Nevada. AG: It's a huge settlement with 8arric8ded walls, I think it was last year or the year 8efore we got the power grid 8ack up AG: It's funded 8y L8dy's Mansion, my live-in headquarters which also dou8les as a fucking kickass 8itching casino AG: We have a8out 20,000-40,000 people living here as permanent residents and more who come and go AG: There's tr8de, there's medicull staff, there's textile plants and industrial gardens AG: We have a standardized 8arter system AG: I've done SO MUCH p8perslogging and pulling myself up from my fucking 8ootstraps AG: I'm not 'hyping up a mediocre settlement' AG: You have to literally get into a vehicle to drive from L8dy's Mansion to the 8order walls 8ecause my territory is so large AG: We are one of the 8iggest non-aligned Encampments in the western hemisphere AG: I'm........ AG: I'm 8uilding an army, Kan. This pl8ce is fucking Huge.

GA: Vriska GA: Why Are You Building An Army GA: Did We Not All Go Through This Sort Of Thing Once Before GA: Do You Really Need To Seek Out Conflict Again So Soon

AG: SkaiaNet needs to 8e 8rought down AG: People are suffering 8ecause they hold ALL the wealth and ALL the resources AG: I'm not just going to stand 8y and let them 8ully every8ody into su8mission while the planet dies AG: and they MORE than have the capa8ilities to m8ke life more comforta8le AG: Yes I've 8uilt an army 8efore, that's why I'm the perfect person for this jo8 AG: I have experience with this shit AG: SkaiaNet has no IDEA what kind of enemy it's m8de in me AG: Also AG: My n8me is Spin. AG: I've triangul8ed your loc8ion. AG: Do you want me to come get you or no?

GA: GA: GA:

AG: Yes or no?

GA: I Am Thinking GA: GA: GA: Will It Be You Who Picks Me Up GA: Or Some Random Underling Of Yours

AG: If you want me to m8ke the trip personally, I can t8ke a 8r8k AG: L8dy's Country won't fall apart without me for a d8y

GA: No GA: No That Will Be Fine GA: I Am Not Entirely Sure That I Want To See You GA: Until I Have Had A Chance To Clean Up

AG: God even in the f8ce of a post-apocalyptic w8steland you're still so prim lmf8o AG: I'll send my personal guard. His n8me's Seipher, I'd trust him with my life. AG: Are you in a s8fe pl8ce to 8unker down? You're a8out 7 hours out from where we're at

GA: Vri GA: GA: Spin GA: I Have Been Walking On My Own Through Swamps GA: Forests GA: Rivers And Open Fields Full Of Mud And Sadness GA: I Have Had To Bathe In Whatever Little Flowing Water I Could Find GA: And Do Not Even Get Me Started On Things Like My Clothes GA: Or All The Extra Features That Are Included With Being A Human In The Way Of Hygiene GA: Forgive Me If I Want A Moment Or Two To Myself Before I See Someone I Care About For The First Time In Almost Two Entire Sweeps GA: So That I Can Look And Smell Presentable GA: Rather Than Looking Like I Am Some Sort Of Bog Person And Smelling Like A Waterlogged Carcass

AG: You care a8out me? AG: AG: AG: lmf8oooooooo could you imagine, I had the strongest urge to send that and then NOTHING until my driver arrives there AG: God that would’ve 8een soooooooo funny AG: Yeah roughing it in the wilderness is fucking awful, I’ll have Seipher and K8 get you set up in your suite after you arrive and then you can just lmk when you’re ready and we’ll have dinner and a drink or something AG: I’ll see you then!!!!!!!! ::::)

——arachnidsGrip [AG] ceased Trolling grimAuxilitrix [GA]——

GA: GA: GA: GA: But I Did Not Want To Be Done Talking With You GA: GA: ---grimauxiliatrix [GA] disconnected---

@betterthan777 @g4llowsc4l1br4t1ng @g0iinggh02t

#plot post #first post #chatlog

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litwitlady · 4 years

Text

Never Have I Ever (5/?)

Read the Board Game Verse on AO3.

The next Friday night Michael shows up early and with a list of demands. ‘Put on some warm clothes and grab a couple of blankets you don’t mind getting dirty. We’re taking this show on the road.’ He heads into Alex’s kitchen to pilfer the fridge, and Alex doesn’t bother asking questions, he just does as told.

Outside at Michael’s truck, they toss the blankets and whatever Michael took from his kitchen into the bed. ‘Your firepit? Where are we going?’

‘The desert. Our old spot. Hop in.’ A little thrill shivers down Alex’s spine as he climbs into the Chevy. In all their years of each other, spending the night in the desert has only ever ended one way.

Their drive out is twenty minutes of quiet, radio softly playing between them. Michael’s window is down despite the chill, and Alex enjoys the way the wind dances through his hair, making a mess of his curls. Every couple of miles, Michael glances over at him with a promise-painted smile, the same way he used to when they were seventeen.

They turn off the highway, tires kicking up dust clouds behind them. Beyond the mountains the sun is setting, pink and purple and orange flames licking at the first stars daring to blink down at them. The desert around them looks the same as it ever does with pockets of snow still unmelted from the season’s first snowfall. Eventually, two familiar mesquite trees appear and it’s like coming home, both of them breathing a little easier.

Michael puts the truck in park. ‘This place never changes.’ He slides out of the Chevy and before Alex has even set foot on solid ground, he’s managed to float everything out of the bed and onto the desert floor. ‘You want to sit on the ground or would the tailgate be easier?’

He looks nervous and that makes Alex nervous. ‘On the ground, near the fire. Just need a hand getting down there.’ He reaches out to Michael, asking for help but also offering comfort for whatever anxiety is biting at both their heels. Michael helps him onto the blanket and plops down beside him, the fire close enough to keep the encroaching sting of autumn winds at bay.

Scattered around them is an array of food. Everything from paninis oozing melted cheese to a handmade Greek salad from a recipe Michael had found at Isobel’s house while rummaging through her cookbooks. ‘I might have gone a bit overboard, but in my defense, I skipped lunch and was starving.’

Alex is already halfway through one of the paninis, eyes closed in satisfaction. ‘This is delicious.’ Michael makes a mental note to keep the panini maker he’d borrowed from Max. It’s not like Max ever uses it anyway.

Once they’ve eaten their way around the blanket, Michael gets back up and removes a large black case from his truck. ‘There’s a reason I wanted to come out here tonight.’ He winks down at Alex. ‘And no, it’s not the reason you’ve been thinking since I first mentioned the desert.’ Alex looks away quickly, hiding the disappointment that suddenly floods his face.

Michael doesn’t notice, too busy pulling a large telescope from the velvet lining inside the opened case. ‘Mars is brighter than it’s been in years this month. I’ve been itching to get out here and have a look. Isobel gifted me the telescope on our shared birthday in June. I was going to pawn it.’ He shrugs and peeks his eye through the eyepiece, adjusting the fingerscope per the instructions he’s found on his phone.

Alex looks up at the night sky and finds Mars with his naked eye. It is extraordinarily bright, a glowing pink orb rising through the inky black expanse of space. And when Michael finally captures it in the lens of the telescope, he gasps and grabs at Alex’s arm. ‘You can see so much detail. All the pockmarks and craters. And the dust looks almost orange. It’s amazing. Look.’

He drags the telescope closer to Alex so he doesn’t have to move much, checking through the eyepiece one last time to focus directly on the red star. Leaning back on his heels, Michael motions at Alex to take his place and turns his own eyes upward. They are both looking at the same star but he also knows they are seeing something entirely different. He huffs out a sharp laugh which draws Alex’s eye away from the telescope. ‘What’s so funny?’

‘Nothing. Just metaphors and nonsense. The ways that perspectives get so warped and are so hard to understand when everyone doesn’t have the same telescope.’ Alex gives him a funny look and Michael laughs outright. ‘I’ve been hanging around Max too much.’

Alex shakes his head gently. ‘No. I think I get what you’re saying. For a long time, we’ve wanted the same thing, but we’ve been coming at it from our own messy angles. I’ve often thought we were similar to the codes I break. We’re on the same page, but written in a language the other needs help translating.’ Michael nods at him, smiling sweet.

They spend an hour searching through the various stars and distant galaxies before a growing ache in Alex’s chest pushes him to ask a question he’s been holding inside since they decided to work on their friendship weeks ago. ‘One day you’ll be able to find your star. The one you’ve been searching for since you crawled from that pod. And you’ll figure out how to finish building your ship.’ He pauses to collect himself, already feeling the emotion in his chest threatening to overwhelm him. ‘One day, you’ll be able to go home.’ His eyes start to burn with unshed tears, but he keeps going, meeting Michael’s gaze with determination and readying the fortress around his heart he was so sure he wouldn’t need anymore. ‘Is that still what you want?’

Michael reaches up and swipes at the first tear that falls from the corner of Alex’s eye. ‘I found my star a long time ago. And I’m not going anywhere without you.’

Alex drops his eyes to his hands. ‘I have no right to ask that of you. I know that. Not after all the leaving I did.’ He tugs nervously at the hem of his shirt, hands starting to shake with the cold. ‘But I’m never going anywhere without you ever again. I promise.’

‘I know.’ Michael grabs an extra blanket and wraps it tight around Alex. ‘So what’s tonight’s game? Didn’t see you toss anything into the bed when we were leaving.’

They both lean back against the Chevy’s tire. Alex stretches the blanket around Michael’s shoulders so that they are sharing more than just the woven wool’s warmth. ‘How about the classic drinking game, Never Have I Ever? Sans alcohol but with a new twist.’ He grins, lips sharpening at the edges and eyes darkening with dare. ‘Instead of taking a drink, you have to kiss the other person.’

Michael snorts. ‘So we’re just soundly saying goodbye to the friends experiment then?’

‘No. Platonic kisses only. No kissing on the mouth and no use of tongue.’ Alex hears the bullshit in his words and knows Michael does too. His nerves return and he begins to second guess himself. ‘Or we can play like normal. There’s still plenty of wine left. Or not at all. I’m happy to just sit here with you too.’

‘That’s okay. I like the new rules. Not much of a wine guy anyway. Who goes first?’

‘Me.’ Alex sits up a little straighter and spends a fair amount of time considering his first move. ‘Never have I ever used my telekinesis to do literally anything.’ He follows the statement with a cheeky grin, clearly quite proud of himself.

‘Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be? That’s how we’re going to play?’ Alex tries to suppress the manic giggle that bubbles up in his throat but loses the fight pretty quickly. Michael shakes his head. ‘Have a placement preference?’

‘Nope. I’m looking forward to wherever you choose.’ He blushes and struggles to meet Michael’s eye, muscles tensing in anticipation once he feels Michael shift against him.

A breeze nestles between them, but neither of them notices. The cool air doing absolutely nothing to assuage the heat pulsing between them. Michael presses his lips to Alex’s temple, less a kiss than a remembrance of every kiss that has come before. Alex closes his eyes and lets this new memory burn a spot next to all the others.

It’s strange. Michael has kissed him goodbye dozens of times over the past few weeks. None of them half as affecting as this barely glancing touch.

Abruptly, Michael pulls away. ‘Never have I ever gone to war.’

Alex reopens his eyes at the sound of Michael’s voice. ‘If we keep this up, we’re going to dig ourselves into a hole, Guerin. One we can’t get out of.’ He brings his fingers up to the sleeve of Michael’s shirt. ‘You told me to dress warm when all you’re wearing is this thin t-shirt.’ Michael watches as Alex slowly guides the sleeve up over the top of his arm. Alex bows his head far enough to leave a trail of rough, chapped kisses where the bony end of his collarbone meets his shoulder.

Michael’s breath hitches the instant Alex doesn’t stop with one single kiss. The dry scrape of his lips sending goosebumps down to his toes, his heartbeat a staccato rhythm echoing throughout his entire body. ‘That doesn’t feel at all platonic.’ His voice is low and strained, edged with the desire to flatten Alex hard against the wool blanket beneath them.

Alex smiles and smacks his shoulder with one last loud kiss. ‘I guess that depends on your perspective. Never have I ever stepped foot on another planet.’

‘How about I share a little bit of my perspective with you?’ He scoots impossibly nearer to Alex, hand cupping his cheek and tilting their mouths dangerously closer. Their breaths mingle together although Alex is almost certain he’s not breathing at all anymore. Michael’s lips hover over Alex’s, the anticipation building to a crescendo they’ve both been waiting for since five Friday nights ago at the Wild Pony. And it doesn’t matter how many times they’ve kissed before. Because there’s never, not once been this much hope waiting for them on the other side.

When Michael’s lips finally land on Alex’s skin, they narrowly miss his mouth. Instead they fall at the corner of his lips, a sliver away from touching home. Alex exhales, half-groaning with the comedown. He’d been sure, so sure this was their moment. Swallowing down what he really wants to say, Alex turns to Michael just as he pulls away. ‘Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.’

‘I think this was the best idea.’ He tilts his head and smiles at Alex so beyond innocent that Alex yelps when Michael pushes his shoulders roughly onto the blanket and slides effortlessly between Alex’s welcoming thighs. Alex barely has time to take another breath before Michael’s mouth steals it away, sucking at his bottom lip so desperately Alex has to lift his head to chase after Michael’s urgency.

The kiss is needy, both of them grasping at each other like they’re dangling off a cliff holding on with nothing more than their fingertips. Michael’s hands tug at Alex’s hair, jagged, work-worn nails digging into the softness of his scalp without apology. And Alex fills the gaps between Michael’s ribs with his fingers, feeling Michael’s lungs expand with each new, shuddering breath. Eventually twisting Michael’s t-shirt so tight in his fists it rips at the seams.

One kiss becomes two becomes twenty until neither knows whose tongue is whose anymore. Michael’s shirt is long gone and Alex’s pants are shoved halfway down his thighs before either of them has the sense to stop. ‘Your skin is like ice, Alex. It’s too cold out here for this, even with the fire.’ His breathing is ragged, his chest heaving. Leaning back on his knees, he helps Alex back into his jeans, despite his ardent protests that he’s not too cold, and grabs the remaining blanket to wrap around them. Even with two thick, wool blankets, the night air is still harsh enough to make both of them shiver. ‘Maybe we should go back to your place.’

‘No. Please not yet.’ Alex shifts closer to Michael, joining their bodies wherever he can reach. Laying his head on Michael’s chest, he hums in satisfaction at the steady beat of his heart. ‘You’ll keep me warm. Tell me about the stars like you used to.’ Alex points to a random patch of desert sky. ‘Isn’t that Polaris?’

Michael snorts into Alex’s hair. ‘You’ve always been so bad at this. You can’t really see the North Star from here. It’s not bright enough.’ He drags Alex’s still-raised finger to another part of the sky. ‘That’s Gemini. The twins. I’ve always thought of me and Max as Castor and Pollux. But the version where only one of them, Pollux probably, is immortal.’

‘Max is Pollux, I’m guessing?’

Michael nods, chin tapping against the top of his head. ‘Yes.’

The stars glow brighter as Michael spends the next hour recounting so many of their mysteries, fingertips dancing up and down Alex’s arm like he’s tattooing the stories into his skin. Alex pretends like he’s never heard them before when in reality he’s had them all memorized for over a decade. The stars and Michael’s stories are what had kept his first tour overseas from chewing him up and spitting him out.

Tilting his chin, Alex kisses into Michael’s neck, leaving a sloppy trail in his wake as he nibbles up to his ear. ‘Take me home.’

The warmth of Alex’s house beckons as they pile everything back into the truck. With no traffic, they pull into the driveway in record time, not bothering to unpack the Chevy before heading inside and straight to Alex’s bedroom. They collapse onto the bed and undress each other slowly, allowing the furnace’s heat to melt them into nothing but nerve-endings and sensation, their sweat-slick skin sliding smoothly together.

Once they’re sated and sleepy, Michael throws a leg over Alex’s thighs and wraps an arm around his waist, tugging him as close as possible. ‘I guess we’re dating now.’

#malex #malex fic

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blueeyedrat · 4 years

Photo

Games I played in 2020.

This has been a... strange and stressful year, but you don't need me to tell you that. A lot of time cooped up at home (more than usual), accomplishing little of substance (less than usual), but... it did leave me plenty of time for video games, I suppose? Either way, like last year, I wanted to gather my thoughts on some of the games that stood out to me.

This list is coming a bit later than last year's, due to a combination of writer's block and a couple games that carried over past January (one of which might get pushed to the 2021 list instead). Some games carried over from the previous year, particularly Hades. Some games that were once mainstays fell off the list, like Dustforce and Eternal, but I also rediscovered some old favorites like Alto's Adventure and Mini Metro. As with the 2019 list, I'll be focused on games I started or finished in 2020.

(2019 ⇐ 2020 ⇒ 2021)

GRIS

I ended 2019 with Journey, and started 2020 with GRIS. The two fit together well, both being platformers with no dialogue and a heavy emphasis on aesthetic and atmosphere. They even share similar environments at times, particularly early on when you're traversing temple ruins and vast desert slopes. That's not to say that GRIS doesn't stand on its own, of course. Its gameplay felt slow-paced, but never to the point where it became sparse or tedious. The narrative, even at its most abstract, conveyed a lot of emotion. The artwork was (rather, is) absolutely gorgeous, and is by far the game's strongest aspect. A fine puzzle-platformer by any metric.

A Short Hike

On the subject of games and emotion. There are several games on this list that I would describe, first and foremost, as pleasant. Games that are friendly, inviting. Games that you could curl up with on a cold winter afternoon or a warm summer night. Games that just make you feel good, and you don't need to explain why. Sometimes that's all I'm really looking for in a game, especially nowadays. A Short Hike hits all of those notes for me. A lovely little sandbox to run and climb and glide around in, filled with things to do, characters to interact with, and a charming atmosphere that makes its emotional beats all the more impactful. A game for, and about, taking your mind off of things.

Return of the Obra Dinn

Some honorable mentions: I pulled several games from my backlog this past year, and like in 2019, a lot of them were one-and-done. Some I played through and experienced all (or close enough) of what the game had to offer, like Yono and the Celestial Elephants, WHAT THE GOLF?, or Anodyne 2. Some I played through to the end, but didn't feel inclined (at least for now) to go back and scour every hidden pathway for secrets, like Hyper Light Drifter, Freedom Planet, or Minit.

Return of the Obra Dinn, however, feels like a game that can only be properly experienced once. A murder mystery on an abandoned ship, where you observe individual moments in time to piece together the events that caused them. The whole game is one giant deduction puzzle, with each individual story woven into the larger mystery of what happened on the Obra Dinn. A master class in puzzle and narrative design.

Slime Rancher

Another game for the "pleasant" column. A curious hybrid of chill farming sim and FPS-style exploration, centered around managing a menagerie of slimes on a faraway planet. The environments, designs, and music are all quite charming, as most games of this sort aspire to be, and it's satisfying to explore and gather and build, but there's a particular reason this game sticks out to me. A lot of farming games are centered around a community, and give you a large and colorful cast of characters to meet and make friends with. Harvest Moon, Stardew Valley, Ooblets, that sort of thing. Slime Rancher, by contrast, is isolated and lonely. It's just you, your ranch, and your slimes, and what few characters you interact with, you only ever do so through a computer screen. Most of the game's narrative is ruminations on lives lived, roads not taken, places and people left behind, and there's a certain wistful nature to it all that makes it memorable.

There's a specific reason I pulled a chill farming sim from my backlog. It was a coin toss between this and Stardew Valley— I wanted to have at least one of them done before...

Animal Crossing: New Horizons

The time sink to end all time sinks. This is my first proper foray into the series, but my older brother (with whom I share an island) had enough experience to get the ball rolling. This game has swallowed up so much of my time and attention this past year... and really, I wouldn't have it any other way. The game is an oasis, a comfy little sandbox to play and build in to your heart's content. The community on your island is always friendly and encouraging, and the community around the game itself has been much the same. Over the past year, we've built up our little island home piece by piece, and as the seasons come and go, the chance to create and recreate it has kept me coming back.

Sayonara Wild Hearts

I don't keep much of a "game of the year" list. However, in recent years, I have kept a personal list of my favorite game soundtracks from each year. It's never really set in stone— every so often there's a late entry that I'll retroactively add to its year's list. 2019 was a very good year for game music: Dicey Dungeons' OST is fantastic, Kind Words (lo-fi chill beats to write to) is exactly what you think it is, and games like GRIS or A Short Hike or Outer Wilds are each noteworthy in their own ways.

2019 also had Sayonara Wild Hearts, which blows pretty much all of them out of the water. This game hooked me almost immediately with its music and aesthetic alone, and when I finally had the opportunity to play the game myself, it did not disappoint. A vibrant, energetic ride somewhere in that odd space between "rhythm game" and "arcade runner", the sheer spectacle of it all makes for quite a memorable experience.

(I'm still sorting out my favorite music from 2020. I have some games on the shortlist, but that's a discussion for another day.)

Clubhouse Games: 51 Worldwide Classics

Long before my family had a Switch, or even a Wii, we had cards and board games. Tabletop games have always interested me, though looking back, much of that interest has been as an observer— I think I've spent as much time watching others play as I have challenging them myself. Even so, the interest remains and has been a source of inspiration for me on multiple occasions, particularly as an aspiring game developer.

Clubhouse Games rekindled that interest. It offers a large selection— some old games I still remember, others I was aware of but never explored in depth, and a few I'd never really known at all. There are some games that I'll come back to more than others, but whether it's a quick game of chess or hanafuda, a round of virtual billiards, or my burgeoning love/hate relationship with mahjong, it's provided plenty of options to pass the time.

(Assorted puzzle games)

On the subject of passing the time, I played a lot of puzzle games again this year, on both console and computer. A quick game from the backlog in between larger projects... or a chill game to distract me when I was having a rough time mentally and couldn't focus on larger projects. Like I said, it's been a stressful year. Unlike last year's list, I couldn't really single out one game to represent the lot. Shown above are Gorogoa, Spring Falls, Path of Giants, and Helltaker; others I played this year included the Hexcells series, MOLEK-SYNTEZ, inbento, LYNE, Golf Peaks, and Ruya, as well as...

Petal Crash

Alongside my own game dev aspirations, I've tried to follow other indie and dev communities more closely and become more involved in that aspect as well. I've been introduced to and become an early supporter of multiple projects I probably would've missed out on otherwise, with this little gem being a highlight among them. An arcade-style puzzle game with all the trappings of an old classic: gameplay that's easy to learn but tricky to master, a fast-paced versus mode and an in-depth puzzle mode, music and pixel art that wouldn't be out of place on the Gameboy Color, and a charming cast of characters to cap it all off. Highly recommended.

With the success of Petal Crash, I'm definitely looking forward to other upcoming titles that have caught my attention the same way (like Chicory: A Colorful Tale, Beasts of Maravilla Island, and The Wandering Village), and will be keeping an eye out for other new projects to add to that list. The future is bright.

Spiritfarer

If you were to ask me about the best game I played this year, I'd probably point you in the direction of Animal Crossing, or Hades. I played them more frequently, I sunk more hours into them, and they're incredibly polished games in every aspect.

If you were to ask me what game I was the most invested in this year, I'd tell you Spiritfarer. A chill management game about ferrying lost souls and helping them pass on. This game won me over from the day it was announced, in a way that few games have managed— the art and animation, the character design, the music, all centered around a premise that seemed tailor-made to be heartwarming and heartrending in equal amounts. I was hooked. I followed its development pretty closely, and even got a chance to play an early version as an alpha tester. And when I finally sat down and played the full game, it gave me pretty much what I was expecting.

The art and animation and music is gorgeous. The gameplay generally never asks too much of you, letting you explore its world and build up your ever-expanding boat at your own pace. Your passengers are all charming and memorable, even when you're only given a small glimpse at the people they were and the lives they led, and the narrative core woven around these characters doesn't pull its punches. The result is something that feels cathartic and carries a lot of genuine emotion behind it, even at its heaviest moments. I still don't know if I'd call it the objective best game of 2020, but it is a personal favorite that will stay with me for a long time.

And with that, I can finally lay 2020 to rest. Here's to 2021, and to games to come in the year ahead.

#spiritfarer #petal crash #sayonara wild hearts #slime rancher #a short hike #gris game #animal crossing new horizons #clubhouse games #return of the obra dinn #bryan writes about games

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crystalirises · 4 years

Text

The Final Answer (36 Questions AU 1/13)

Hello guys! So I made a Fundywastaken fic... but 36 Questions. I hope you guys like it! (This occurs in the Dream SMP and involve the characters, not the people). I’ll be uploading this on ao3 too for those who want to read it there (tumblr deletes my posts if I add external links so I can’t put the link here rip).

(Also in this AU Dream and Fundy got married at some point during Schlatt’s administration and George didn’t object because dammit George)

HEAR ME OUT

~~~~~

“Dream, we should watch treasure planet, ba― Babe.”

“WHAT.”

~~~~~

“Dream, you have been the most fantastic partner to watch treasure planet with… heh… I’ve known you for so long now, I can’t imagine a life without you. I love you. We've gone through our own tragedies. But, would you do me the honor of making me the happiest man on earth? Dream, will you marry me?”

“You were my favorite person ever to watch a movie with. Yes. Yes, I will marry you!”

“YEAHHHHHHH! WOOOOOOOOOO!”

~~~~~

“Oh, can you say that again?”

“About the wedding?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my― but Dream we’ve been over this.”

“Yes.”

“What? Do you like hearing my voice that much?”

“I just want to hear your plans again. I want to hear about the big wedding you’ve planned out.”

“No.”

“A lot of guests?”

“This is Insane. Okay, fine. It’s gonna be a big wedding and it’s… wait for it… Treasure Planet-themed oooooh. Cool, right?”

“It sounds perfect, star.”

“I don’t know about the guests though. Can’t really confirm that.”

“Hm. What? What about the guests?”

“Well, funny story, babe…”

~~~~~

“Dream!”

“Oh, uh, hello!”

“Pogtopia has a meeting, remember?”

“Sorry.”

“What? Why?”

“Just... you wouldn’t understand, Funds.”

“What are you doing? Dream… are you?”

“Yes. I am.”

“Why?”

“I’m just ― he promised me something. Something neither Wilbur nor Pogtopia can give me. I’m sorry.”

“Okay… but you still love me, right?”

“…of course.”

“Promise?”

“I’ll always love you, Fundy.”

~~~~~

“Really?” Dream shivered in his green sweater, the rain pelting mercilessly against his white porcelain mask as he wandered aimlessly through the desert. He held back a frustrated groan. Seriously, a rain storm in the middle of a desert right when nighttime threatened to engulf the world in darkness? He gritted his teeth, seething as he forced himself to move forward. Nature be damned he wasn’t going to turn back. It seems Lady Luck had abandoned him at this crucial moment. Not that he could blame her. He’s pushed everyone away. His friends. His husband.

Dream sighed, peering down at the compass in his hands. The arrow pointed forward, leading him towards his husband… the husband he left… the husband he said he didn’t care for.

“Where are you, Fundy?” Dream trudged through the wet sand, each step heavier than the last. If you had asked him two weeks ago what he’d be doing in the future, it certainly wouldn’t have involved anything to do with traversing through some dead and horrible land. Dream couldn’t believe it. Of all places, why did Fundy have to choose the badlands? He held back the string of curses rising in his throat, exhaustion seeping into his aching bones. He’d been walking for an entire day now, lost in a foreign land that had no mercy for people like him. He couldn’t tell if that rock on the ground was the same rock he’d just passed a couple seconds ago. He groaned, running a hand through his unkempt and dirty hair. Maybe this was his punishment, to wander the desert for all of eternity, searching for a husband who may or may not even be there.

He nearly toppled over, the ground threatening to give way beneath his feet. He scowled, pushing himself as clumps of sand stuck to every part of him. “Oh, I’m gonna die out here…” He began to sing underneath his breath, glancing at the desolate and darkening landscape, his heart on his sleeve. A part of him wished Fundy would appear at any moment, a glimpse of his orange tail around the corner… anything that would give him a hint to his husband’s whereabouts. He shouldn’t have left Fundy that night. He shouldn’t have left. He bit back his sorrow, it wasn’t his time to cry.

“Come on. Give me a sign, star. Just… Anything, please.” His eyes narrowed, hoping to see beyond the neverending veil of rain that engulfed the world. Why did it have to rain at such a time?

The previous days have been… difficult. He’d done many acts that he couldn't say he was proud of… but he would never take them back. He did what he had to. He just didn’t expect to lose his husband in the process. One moment Fundy was by his side, his head nuzzled into his neck as they sat near the warmth of a fireplace, and the next his husband was gone. Fundy had left his ring on their bed, but he didn’t leave a note. No. Dream had to force it out of the newcomer’s mouth to even get a hint of where his husband had run off to.

“What…?” He paused, the distant flutter of a familiar piece of clothing catching his attention. He began to run, the outline of a small cabin coming into view as he stumbled his way towards… a clothesline? He took a shaky breath, reaching out to pluck the hat off the clothespin it hang onto. It was soaking wet, a bundle of black and orange cloth… but he would recognize it anywhere. Fundy loved his hat as much as Dream loved his mask. His attention turned towards the debilitated cabin. Did Fundy live there?

“Please. Please. Please.” Don’t let this be a fluke. He headed towards the cabin, yelping as his leg got caught on sand. He lands against the door with a loud thud, the house trembling violently at the sudden impact. He gripped at its edges. His head pressed against the thin wooden surface.

Worry settled in his gut… maybe Fundy wasn’t here. Maybe… He stilled. The muffled sound of shoes scuffing against the floor ringing through his ears. “Fundy? Star? I… I know you’re there, Fundy. Just… please let me in, star.”

He was met with silence. His heart ached with regret. He wouldn’t delude himself. This was his fault. But… they could still work it out! It couldn’t be over, could it? His fingers dug into the wood, splinters breaking through his skin. Dream couldn’t care less. He wanted his husband to open the door. He wanted to hold him in a tight embrace and apologize, beg for him to come home. At the very least, he wanted to see Fundy’s face for one last time.

“Okay. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you’re not my husband, my Fundy.” He lets out a sigh.

“Whoever you are…” He swallowed down the bitter and nauseous taste of sadness in his throat, his shoulders shook with unshed tears. He forced himself to continue, a sliver of hope that Fundy would pity him enough to hear him out.

“You share a lot in common with my husband... Funds.” The nickname felt damningly foreign against his tongue, as if he hadn’t used it in a long time. Maybe he hadn’t. He pushed the thought away. He didn’t want to think about it. Not now.

“You have the same hat...” He heard a strained gasp through the door, and his heart began to flutter. He holds the hat to his chest, caressing the cold, soaked cloth with calloused hands. Fundy would want it back, right?

“So either he sold it or maybe you stole it.” Fundy would never, Dream knew that. It was one of the few traits they shared. Fundy hated when Dream washed his hat for him, and Dream hated when Fundy cleaned his mask for him.

“And didn't change the tags...” His fingers reached into the hat, feeling the small patch of paper crudely taped onto its surface. He didn’t need to look to know that ‘F.S.” was written on the parchment.

“So I feel like I know you, like we've met before.” He closed his eyes, the distant memory of warm lights danced across his vision. He recalled the warm hand tucked into his own, the gold-flecked brown eyes that stared up at him with a light that could rival the brightest of stars.

“I walked like 27 hours…” It had been a day at most, a mere second in the life of an admin… but it felt like a lifetime. Dream had wandered through the land, sick and delirious with the idea that he might have been too late, that his husband had gone to a place he would never find.

“…to get to this place. If you were him…” He leaned against the door, wondering if Fundy was doing the same. He couldn’t feel the other’s warmth, blocked by the door and the chill of the rain that clung to his very being. He’d never felt this cold before.

“You'd open up the door.” He raised a hand, his knuckles knocking against the wooden barrier. He held his breath… but the door didn't budge. He sniffed, combing a hand through his hair. He deserved this. He knows he does. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“I know you're there. I know you're listening.” A murmur of noise reached his ears, the chime of metal creaking before falling into silence. He hoped Fundy didn’t lock the door on him. Fundy was there, just beyond the door. He was listening. That had to mean something, right?

“You deserve to get to know…” Who did his husband deserve to know? Dream was many things, and he doubted that Fundy would wish to meet any one of them. He was a tyrant. A monster. A liar. A player. A traitor. A shitty husband. He was…

“The person you're trying your damnedest to let go. I know you care.” Fundy must still have some love for him, right? He would have told him to leave if he didn’t, right? Dream held onto that. They could fix this. Fix them. Dream was willing to try… if- if Fundy was. He’d take it all back if it meant having his husband.

“Whoever you are…” Fundy… please. Warm rolls of liquid dripped past his cheeks, a contrast to the rain that cruelly poured down onto his shivering form. He could feel the approaching cold of night in the air, his fingers trembling at the shift of temperature.

“You have a thousand reasons not to trust whoever I am.” Fundy had no reason to, and Dream knew that. Their love was insane, a story of confusion and impossibilities. They were enemies. They were supposed to be enemies. Fundy should hate him and Dream should be indifferent to the fox’s very existence.

“For whatever it's worth…” A sob seeps past his lips, his throat burning with a scream he dared not escape. His hand lets go of the door, resting on top of the porcelain mask he had worn for so long. In one move, he took it off.

“I also have no clue as to who I actually am.” The wind slapped at his cheeks. He can’t recall the last time he’s taken off his mask.

“But I know, this is the first time in my life…” He wore it on their date. He wore it to their wedding. Did Fundy even know what he looked like? Did he care?

“That I am sure.” Did Dream want him to? Did he want Fundy to see him? To see beyond the mask? See the man behind the smile?

“I walked like 27 hours, replaced two boots during a storm.” He would walk another mile if Fundy asked him to. He really would.

“And I won't leave ‘til you open up the door.” He had to see him, even if it was just one final glimpse. A final farewell to a love story doomed from the beginning.

“I hear you there. I hear you listening.” Fundy.

“You deserve to get to know the person you're trying your damnedest to let go.” If you can hear me…

“Hear me out.” Know…

“Hear me out.” That I love you…

“Hear me out.” So, please…

“Let me in.” Oh…

“Let me in.” Please…

“Let me in.” Forgive

“Let me in.” Me…

“Funds, there are zombies everywhere, they’re going to eat me alive…”

----------------------------------

#fundywastaken #fundy #dream mcyt #mcyt

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jusvibbbin · 3 years

Text

Desert Dessert

Hoshi Sato x Reader

//For my dear friend @kawaiibandlover

//Also sorry for not writing since November. I am ashamed

“Helloooo?? Earth to (Y/N)”

You looked up from the book you had your nose buried halfway into and locked eyes with none other than Hoshi Sato.

“Hey what are yo- Oh no.”

Hoshi flashed you a playful grin and you groaned.

“I missed lunch again, didn’t I?”

You tried not to groan a second time when you looked at the clock to see you had missed lunch by an hour.

“It’s alright,” Hoshi laughed. “I ate lunch with some friends. You’ll remember next time… maybe.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve just been so busy with my work,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. “But I’m so close to a major breakthrough and then I can make it to lunch everyday.”

God it’s a wonder how such a klutz like me got to date someone like her.

As you smiled at her, Hoshi’s smile faltered.

“What’s wrong?” You knit your eyebrows together in concern. Dating Hoshi for almost two years made her easy to read. There wasn’t a secret between you.

“I got it… The position, teaching in Brazil. I leave in two months”

“Oh...” you looked deep into her eyes. You knew this was coming. She had told you from the moment you started dating that she was trying to teach down there. Not to mention she had always been in Starfleet, active duty or not.

I thought we’d have more time together.

“OH! Congratulations Hoshi!” You stood quickly and grabbed her hands.

Hoshi laughed out a ‘thank you’ and pulled you towards the exit of the library. All the while you were thinking of a way to celebrate her success before she had to leave.

It took you two weeks to plan the getaway, mostly because of how busy you were. Vulcan was new and exciting, and although they seemed to loathe humans, the Vulcans were interested in observing them enough to let a few Vulcan cargo ships full of tourists come once and a while. You thought about how lucky you were to get the tickets as you knocked on Hoshi’s door.

“Hey you! I figured you’d be hard at work. Come on in.”

Hoshi’s place was cozy, filled with interesting objects from dozens of different places. You weren’t much of a traveler, preferring to stay home and travel back in time with the books you studied in the archives. But for Hoshi, you’d go just about anywhere.

“I figured you’d be busy brushing up on your Portuguese,” you said taking a seat on her sofa. Hoshi gave you a look that said she never needed to ‘brush up’ and sat down besides you.

“So why the surprise visit?” she asked.

“Do I need a reason to visit my girlfriend?” You grinned at her, excitement for the trip taking over.

“No! It’s just you’re usually busy with work.”

“Well for two whole weeks I won’t be busy with work.”

Hoshi looked at you surprised.

“You won’t? What will you be doing?”

“You mean what will we be doing..?” you say as you pulled the tickets from out of your pocket.

Hoshi gasped and snatched the tickets from you.

“No way! How did you get these?!”

You grinned at her and just shook your head. “That my dear, is a secret.”

Hoshi hugged you before rushing into the kitchen. She returned after a few moments with a large bottle of champagne, opening it and pouring two glasses. You drank yours quickly, letting her know you still had a lot of work to get done before you went.

You kissed her softly at her apartment door.

“I will leave the itinerary in your capable hands,” you said before jogging home to finish your work for the night.

The ride on the freighter was decent enough. It took a while to get to Vulcan but you couldn’t complain considering how long it would’ve taken if you had been on an Earth ship. Hoshi was a bundle of excitement from start to finish. Having her plan the trip was both a blessing and a curse. You knew that she would get to see all she wanted to but that also meant that you would be all over Vulcan for the next two weeks. So much for a relaxing, romantic time.

Finally, you had made it to Vulcan. You had tried to look out the window but everyone else beat you to it. You didn’t mind, you’d see it soon enough. The ship started its descent and Hoshi grabbed your hand and smiled.

“Thank you for this. I can’t remember the last time I was this excited!”

“Anytime I get to spend with you is wonderful, you don’t ever have to thank me for that. Besides, who doesn’t love a good vacation?”

Famous last words…

“It’s a desert!?!”

You had come off the shuttle to make a shocking discovery. You were in fact not in a luscious utopia or a sandy beached paradise. You were just surrounded by sand. And rocks. And brush. And Vulcans looking rather frustrated at your foolish outburst.

You flushed, embarrassed, and pulled a cackling Hoshi to the side.

“When were you gonna tell me this place was dry, hot and dusty?”

Hoshi’s eyes widened as she looked at you.

“Seriously? I thought you were joking over there. Did you not know? Why did you buy tickets and not do any research? Research is like your whole thing.” Hoshi was right of course and you couldn’t blame her for your lack of knowledge.

“Correction. I do research, but I research the past. I had no idea we were booking a very expensive trip to the Gobi Desert.” You looked around at the vast emptiness again and internally kicked yourself.

“(Y/N), relax,” Hoshi said as she grabbed your hand and squeezed. “I know it looks like just a desert but there’s a lot of beauty everywhere you look. Not to mention a rich culture and history that some Vulcans are eager to share.”

You perked up when she emphasized history and Hoshi smiled.

“I planned plenty of things for both of us to enjoy and some time to just chill out with some cool water and ice cold baths.”

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad

After two weeks of exploring ancient caves, trying Vulcan dishes and learning to see the true beauty in the fiery, red planet, Hoshi and you were relishing your last dinner on Vulcan.

“Alright, I think I’m warming up to the plomeek soup. But it just can’t beat your soba noodles,” you said with a chuckle.

Hoshi rolled her eyes as you kissed her head, getting up to grab a cake from the small kitchen in your rented room. You gingerly set it in front of Hoshi, eyeing it for a long time before settling in your chair. Hoshi barely looked at it, or the interesting centerpiece, as she blew out the candles marking your two year anniversary.

“We haven’t talked about me leaving,” Hoshi said awkwardly.

You looked up at her as she began to cut the cake. “No I suppose we haven’t. What did you want to discuss?”

Hoshi stopped her cutting and thought about her next words very carefully.

“(Y/N), I understand if you want to break up. It doesn’t feel right for me to ask you to stay with me if I’m that far away.”

You looked at Hoshi incredulously as she began cutting again, her eyes never leaving yours.

“Hoshi, I love you. I’ve loved you for two years now and a little distance isn’t going to change that. Besides...” you looked down to see Hoshi was almost done. “You might want to look at your dessert before you try to convince me to break up with you.”

As she took her piece, Hoshi looked down to see a simple gold ring on a frosted flower in the middle of the cake.

#hoshi sato #enterprise #star trek #hoshi x reader #star trek enterprise #oneshot #ent

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zabrak-show · 4 years

Text

Blood of the Sith

Summary:

Kudra Deschain is a young pilot working for a trade company out of Coruscant. Her next trade route to Mustafar, ends up being a fiery life changing revelation to the dark side of the force, where she meets Maul, a Sith apprentice to Darth Sidious.

Notes:

This is pre phantom menace, by like maybe a couple years. I had fun writing this, but it's just for fun so hopefully no one takes this too seriously and gets mad at me for depicting Maul in a way they don't like, or not having some other random spec incorrect. I wanted to show a softer side to Maul. Probably NSFW, but there's nothing that graphic as I am a secret prude.

A huge thank you to my fiance for helping me out with some of the technical aspects as well as the story writing. And thank you to all my friends who have not only put up with me talking about my dumb Maul story for the past few months while I slowly chipped away at it, but encouraged me to continue. Sorry it’s such a slow burn, please hang in there I swear Maul shows up soon lol!!

7 chapters all together. 12.7k words (total for all 7 chapters combined)

Chapter 1

The metal floor plates quietly vibrated as the YT-1000 entered the Coruscant atmosphere. The pilots were a young woman with pale skin and long black hair, and a young male twi’lek with orange skin. They wore similar black jumpsuits and even seated at the helm it was obvious the twi’lek would tower over the woman.

“So Kudra, what are you planning to get yourself into now that we’re back from that mess?” The twi’lek asked with a smirk.

“Mess?” She replied, dodging the question, “I had everything under control the whole time.”

A green and gold astromech droid wheeled in to beep his counter and the twi’lek laughed and asked, “Your droid really loves to call you out. Why do you still keep that old thing around?”

Kudra busied herself with checking all the landing sensors and grumbled back, “That droid has proven useful on every run we’ve done. Plus, I like her sarcastic attitude.” She was cautious to not make it obvious the droid was her only friend and constant in her life the last 10 years.

“Have you set up the meeting then with Krass? After we land I won’t have much time to…”

“Yes Kudra,” The twi’lek cut her off and she shot an icy glare his way, “Krass will be ready and waiting for us so you can go off on your secret missions or whatever it is you do.”

Kudra sat in silence while they came into the landing bay. Why did he always get so mad she didn’t want to hang out with the team after a job? They just spent 2 weeks on this crusty cargo ship together. They both deserved to do whatever they wanted on their own.

As promised, Krass was there waiting for them, once they got off their ship. He was a tall weequay with leathery brown skin and knotted blonde hair. He always tried to look higher class than he was, which made him look tacky in Kudra’s opinion. He wore his usual worn out and dated long red leather coat with tarnished brass buttons and knee high black boots over canvas pants. He stuck out like a sore thumb on the landing bay amongst the muted flight suits of most everyone else.

Krass and the twi’lek discussed unloading the cargo and routine maintenance with the landing crew while Kudra checked in on L0-K1.

“Make sure these maintenance droids don’t mess anything up while I’m gone.” She said as she stooped down to wipe grease from the droid’s arm. L0 beeped and wheeled away.

Kudra stood in the back against the wall of Krass’ small, now crowded office. The whole team was probably over 40 people, but he only held the meetings for pilots, engineers, and copilots so 13 of them all together. A low hum of conversations between everyone enveloped the room until Krass spoke up to start the meeting. The room quieted and he gave his usual fanfare speech while explaining everyone’s next jobs. A sinking feeling hit Kudra in the gut as she realized her name hadn’t been called. She could not afford any time off right now, and as far as she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong lately. As it seemed like the meeting was wrapping up, Krass remembered her, “Ah yes Kudra, I haven’t forgotten you. You’ll be taking the Z95 to the outer rim for a small but important job.”

Kudra nodded her head, “Yes, Sir.”

Slowly, everyone filed out of the room and Krass caught her arm as she neared the door.

“Listen,I know you just got back, but if you can leave right away, it’d be a huge help. I’d consider your ship, the YT1000, paid in full after the job got done. If you do it right of course.” He finished sternly now forcibly grabbing the top of her shoulder.

“Sure,” Kudra responded coolly, “I can leave as soon as the ship’s ready. What’s the mission?”

He loosened his grip, “Top secret.” he stared into her green eyes as if to search for a reason he might be wrong about sending her on this mission, finally removing his hand from her shoulder and looking away.

“You’ll be going to Mustafar to trade with a mining collective there. In and out, easy peasy. It’s hotter than blazes there and not like some desert planet. It’s covered in lava so pick up some protective clothing, ‘fore you head out. I’ve already deposited more than enough credits for ya to prepare. Any questions?”

Kudra thought for a moment, “Naw, just load the information onto L0 about which landing bay to aim for and who the point of contact will be. Thanks for trusting me captain, I won’t let you down.” The weequay sprung to life suddenly and patted Kudra so hard on her back it made her cough. “Enjoy your night and I’ll let you know when the ship’s ready.”

Kudra pulled the covers up around her, pulling it off the naked sleeping man next to her in bed. She quietly packed her bags and got dressed. She debated on waking him up, and tripped over an Alderaanian wine bottle, spinning it across the floor and making a loud clank against a metal chair leg. Well, I guess that’ll wake him, she figured. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. He was really quite handsome, dark brown skin and curly brown hair with scruffy facial hair like he’d forgotten to shave.

“Hi gorgeous, are you leaving already?” he looked up at her from the bed.

“Yes,” Kudra responded plainly. “Apologies for waking you.” She started to pick up his clothes to hand him and he grabbed her for a kiss, causing her to lose her balance and fall into him, kissing him deeply and forgetting herself for a moment.

“I’m sorry” she said, pulling away, “this was fun. I do need to get going though.”

“Right,” he shrugged her off and got dressed in awkward silence.

Kudra made it to the ship bay just in time. Krass was waiting with L0.

“Ok, you’re all set with coordinates.”

“Great, thanks Krass,” she started to crawl up the boarding ladder.

“Kudra, wait.” She stopped and turned her head toward him.

“I didn’t mention it earlier, but” he paused to look around them as he handed her a small black velvet pouch, “this is very important and very secretive. Never take it off your person, until you meet your point of contact. It’s worth your very life.” He stuffed the bag in her hand and didn’t let go for a moment.

“So what, is this the actual cargo?” she looked at him skeptically.

“You could say that. Don’t let it into the wrong hands. It’s imperative it gets to our contact person.” he shook his hand holding hers and the pouch.

“Ok, I’ll make sure your old “friend” gets their prize.” she joked with a wink.

“Please, Kudra. This isn’t a joke. No funny business with the clientele this time. You won’t always have someone like me to get you out of your lovelorn messes.”

Kudra’s cheeks burned red hot and her heart raced. How dare he treat her like this, like some mischievous star crossed lover. She covered the anger up with her voice keeping it as cool sounding as she could, “Of course. In and out, business as usual.” She turned to crawl back up the ladder, and Krass was still standing there and yelled after her, “No. NOT business as usual! Professional this time please!” Kudra kept climbing, “Yup you got it Captain. You know I always get the job done one way or another.” She and L0 boarded the Z95 at last. She tied the bag to her belt and got ready for take off.

“What’s the worst that could happen, L0?” she asked the droid as they exited the Coruscant atmosphere. L0 responded, likely with an actual answer to the worst things that could happen and Kudra laughed.

After about an hour into their journey, Kudra remembered the weird encounter with Krass before they left. She opened the pouch to see what was so important inside. L0, beeped her opposition.

“Chill out, L0, I’m just seeing what it is that is so important. I’ll put them right back in the pouch.” She dumped the pouch contents into her palm. Two pyramid shaped, black and gold objects fell into her hand. She noticed there was some type of inscription on the sides of the pyramids. Somehow they felt heavier outside of the bag than inside of it.

“Wow, what do you think these are? Some kind of puzzle?” she asked L0 and the droid screeched a response.

“Ha ha yeah, I suppose my life should be worth more than a couple puzzles.” She slipped them back into the bag and tied it to her waist again.

“Alright, L0, we’re getting close. Narrow in on our coordinates before we get out of hyperspace.”

Kudra tied her long black hair back, revealing a portion of her head shaved and a tattoo of a convor. The ship came out of hyperspace near Mustafar, but in the middle of an electrical storm. The ship controls went erratic and every sensor that could beep started beeping.

“Woah, L0 what the hell is going on? I can barely get into a landing pattern.” Kudra weaved in and out with the barely working steering controls, trying to avoid the erratic lightning happening all around them.

“Why does this shit only ever happen in the outer rim?!” She was desperately trying everything as they started to enter the atmosphere, “L0 please fix our navigation plot, I can’t see anything!” L0 chirped, but the ship was struck by lightning, flickering their main power and everything went dark, the controls went dead.

“That can’t be good! I’ve gotta land L0, find me something to land on, find a way to SLOW us down.” Another lightning strike on the ship and power flickered on for a moment. Enough for Kudra to take some controls and slow the ship down. Everything happened so fast and she was doing everything not to panic and to just focus to try and find any type of solution. She had to use all her strength to try and guide the ship with what little power they had. All Kudra could see was lava. “Is there anything NOT lava on this dumb planet??” she screamed and L0 screamed back at her. She found a landing, but they were coming in way too hot. It was the best they could hope for, so she made the descent.

The initial impact onto the scorched ground completely obliterated one of the wings and most of the rest of the ship was torn up beyond recognition. They were sliding and spinning out of control until finally a bed of lava stopped the ship. What was left of the back of the ship was up in flames as the lava ate away at them. No time to think other than “escape” Kudra began kicking the canopy to try and free both of them. She was running on pure adrenaline as she could feel the ship slipping further and further into the lava, the flames getting hotter and hotter. It started to feel hopeless, so Kudra took a moment to focus every part of her on getting out of the burning ship. A deep breath in, eyes shut, and a strong kick thrusted the canopy off the ship and Kudra jumped out and fell onto the burnt ground. L0 flew out after her with a shriek and an ungraceful tumble next to her sounding like an empty can.

“Woah, L0, you look like shit.” Kudra coughed out, while starting to stand. L0 wheezed a response

“I know, I feel like shit too. Thankfully I have these ugly threads to keep me cool.” she looked down at the black and dark green thick formless robes draped over herself and then back at the ship melting and burning into the lava pool as she lowered her goggles over her eyes. The reality hit her again, and she realized how bad this was. The ship was gone. They were in the middle of nowhere on a lava covered planet. The ship let out a final death rattle as the lava engulfed it entirely and Kudra fell to her knees. Well, this was maybe the worst that could happen.

They started walking, with no real apparent plan other than to maybe find somewhere that wasn’t covered in lava.

“Do we even know how to get to the mining collective from here? What was the contact person’s name?”

L0 chirped the answer.

“Ok, I am choosing to ignore the distance we are from them, but Uane’s the name so we got that.” Kudra sighed deeply. She was too exhausted to keep up any sort of positive charade.

“We need to get out of this heat. Let’s see if we can find a cave over in those cliffs.” Kudra pointed off into the distance a series of cliffs that normally probably wouldn’t take longer than 20 minutes to walk to, but in this heat it was hard to say.

L0 beeped conversationally.

“Listen, I realize if I had taken Krass up on his original offer years ago, I’d be unhappily married but with a ship. And not here. That much I realize. What’s your point?”

Another prodding chirp from L0.

“Settle down? With Krass? Are you out of your mind? I do just fine on my own without looking after some useless old person all the time. This heat is really melting your brain, L0.”

L0 continued prodding Kudra with past mistakes she had made. Kudra wished she could punch a droid and have it do anything other than hurt her own hand.

“L0, what is your deal? We’ve been over this. Why are you always bringing up that deal on Corellia? The whole thing worked out a lot better, actually BECAUSE of me.”

L0 whirred in disbelief.

“Yes I stabbed Crix Harend! As you’ll remember he attacked me. At the time, I had no idea that was his wife in my bed.”

The droid buzzed on about this Correllian from Kudra’s past.

“I actually don’t think Crix ever found out about me and his brother. Anyway that was so long ago. Why can’t you let it go? We still managed to trade our cargo with them in the end.”

L0 wasn’t letting it go and starting to get on Kudra’s last nerve.

“Yes, because I slept with Crix too. What is with you right now?” She screamed at the droid.

They walked on and on in mostly silence now as Kudra was mad at L0 and also too exhausted and shell shocked to make commentary. As thankful as she was to have been warned about the heat and having the right clothing for this planet, something told her they weren’t meant for all day frolicking in the lush lava fields.

Mustafar felt like hell. Every breath was fire on Kudra’s lungs, every step reminded her of all the pain, mostly physical, but her mental game wasn’t so strong right now either. She trudged on and on, L0 whirring quietly behind her. At last, they found a cave to hide in. It wound pretty far back through some tunnels, but that was good. The further in they went the cooler and darker it got. L0 lit up the cave with a small flashlight attachment as Kudra made a makeshift pillow and blanket with her capes and passed out.

Next chapter

#fanfic #fan fic author #simp for sith #sith love story #mustafar #pilot #star wars #phantom menace #darth maul x oc #coruscant #fan fic newbie #be gentle with me #feedback welcome

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skysensed · 3 years

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@flyhighguy cont.

HE HAS TO AGREE WITH COMMANDER CODY because this cold is rather uninviting. Though with the right gear he found it was still more bearable than a flaming hot desert. When that was said, he knew of the lacking features the clone armor could have. Hopefully they would get an upgrade eventually. The heat from a lightsaber is not much to warm two bodies in a cave made of ice crystals, but at least it illuminates the area well enough to spot any uncomming attacks. Anakin does his best to grit his teeth to hold back a shiver as he speaks.

“Yeah, I don’t blame you.” They may have their differences, but when it comes down to it he values Cody as much as he does his own CAPTAIN REX. Which was as much as a close friend. “Hopefully General Kenobi will be arriving soon with a ship so we can get out of this place.” It is just like him to get his own ship wrecked, but it’s not his fault that he’s always being pursued by very insistent enemies. At least they were gone now.

He looks around again for the umpteenth time, as if to see if there was anything he has missed in the cave. “If you’re doing alright with the cold, maybe we can take a look around in the meantime. Find out why the separatists are so interested in this planet.” He looks at Cody as if he can see through that helmet and see his expression.

FOREVER A PROFESSIONAL, the commander tries to keep cold thoughts at bay in an attempt to trick his mind into believing the planet wasn’t that bad. goosebumps now crawl up tanned arms, dotting their way from his wrist until his shoulder, a chill sending shivers down his back - no, the freezing cold won’t be the end of him. cody refuses to let that happen. he makes a mental note to have new armours designed for emergency protocols like this, suitable for every weather, no matter what god forbidden planet they end up on.

he quickly looks over at anakin who was trying to regain some heat from his lightsaber. it wasn’t often the two worked together but from the multiple stories told by rex, cody had gathered just good the young jedi was at adapting to new environments, thinking on his feet. ❛ do you think he’ll be alright up there, sir ? ❜ he can’t help but question, sight concern lacing words. ❛ from what i hear you’re the better pilot between the two of you and if we got shot down, i wonder what’s in store for general kenobi. ❜

trust played a massive part in the understanding between cody and obi-wan, he trusts that the general would at least think things through strategically as he often did. but, he’s also seen what kenobi could be like under certain circumstances. the two were extremely versatile in completely different ways, something cody will always appreciate. anakin’s continued talking brought him to the here and now, while he knows his helmet covers any facial expressions a brow naturally, and subconsciously, rises in thought. ❛ very good, sir. we might find some civilisation or somewhere warmer to stay while we do. though, might i suggest we try finding some branches and collect them for firewood ? in case we get too cold and have to find shelter in another cave. ❜

#flyhighguy #commander cody / in character.#commander cody / v. main.

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etherealperrie · 5 years

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I. The Beginning

Rey x Reader - In which reader crash lands onto Jakku and falls into the lap of the a young scavenger who shows her kindness. The pair quickly grow from strangers to friend to lovers. Little do they know how much the universe has in store for them -

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: This fic begins pre-TFA but continues on to follow the general plot but this time Rey has a gf. This is my first time writing for Rey and in the Star Wars universe in general so please be gentle with me. Self-insert, f!reader. Some explicit language. A little fluff. Maybe more parts? If we all want them? Italics indicate a flashback.

“I found something!” you shout, shoving an old compressor into your bag. Taking one final look into the engine for anything of value, you shut the lid and drop down from the ledge.

“One thing? After all this time?” Rey appears suddenly over your shoulder. You turn to face her and she raises an eyebrow, opening up her bag for you to see. Inside is at least half-a-dozen parts, each alone worth more than yours. “Don’t worry, I’ll share my portions with you.” She grins something wicked and you sigh, knocking your hip into hers.

“Not all of us have been scavaging since birth,” you tease.

“You’ve lived with one for a year now, you should have picked up some tips.” She shakes her head and leads you out of the shipwreck. You follow her out into the dry, Jakku heat, the wind blowing hot sand across the dunes. It’s a climate you’re still getting used to, even after nearly two years.

“I’ll be grateful for the extra portions and you can be grateful for my company.”

“I’m not sure that’s a fair deal,” she scoffs. You place a kiss to her cheek and she smiles, rolling her eyes as she pulls her scarf up over her nose.

“I think it’s better than being alone.”

Alone. That’s what you both were before you landed on Jakku. Rey’s been here on this godforsaken planet since she was a child, abandoned by her parents. She’s been a scavenger ever since - it’s the only way to survive on a planet like this. You, on the other hand, landed here by accident when a smuggling trip from Kijimi went wrong. With your ship and product destroyed on impact, you had no other choice but to stay. Neither your dealer nor supplier would want you to return empty handed.

After the crash, you wandered the sand wasteland for what felt like days before running into Rey. She was the first and only person on the planet to offer you basic decency - food and water. You surrendered your blaster and armor to her - which she took apart in hopes of trading them for portions - in exchange for a place to stay.

The first night with her on Jakku was uncharacteristically cold. You sat around the fire she built, shivering as she cooked the small portion of food she received for her bounty of scavenged treasures. With your head resting in the palm of your hand, you took note of her focus; the steadfast way she tended to everything around her.

“Cold?” she asks, offering you a plate. You nod. “I find it hard to believe the desert chill is any worse than Kijimi.”

“Kijimi’s cold all of the time, unlike Jakku’s extreme drops in temperature.” You take the plate from her. “I might not be so cold if I still had my armour.”

“Your armour bought your meal,” she notes. Clearing her throat, she undoes the clasp on her cape and drapes it across your shoulders. “Here.”

Surprised, you begin to protest but she insists. “Thank you,” you sigh, tugging the cloak tighter to your body. The residual warmth from her body keeps the chills at bay.

“You’re welcome.”

Her dark brown eyes are kind yet wary, searching your face for answers to questions she’d yet to ask. She wanted to know everything - not just about life beyond Jakku, but about you; how you’d gotten into smuggling goods, what Kijimi was really like, and why you hadn’t contacted anyone from home. You intrigue her, make her curious in ways no one has before.

Slowly, she began her inquiry.

You entertained her with stories of your travels, smuggling trips to and from the edge of the galaxy. She listened intently, her eyes bright with awe and wonder, until you began to tire, your words slurring as you wrestled with exhaustion.

“Help yourself to the bed,” she says, leading you back inside. “I can sleep on the floor.” She grabs an extra blanket off of the bed and steps out of the way to make room for you.

“No, I don’t want to impose.”

“You’ve had quite a day, please.”

“As have you,” you reason, holding out your hands for the blanket. “You’ve already given up part of your meal as well as your home - I insist.”

“Are you always this stubborn?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Usually. And you?”

“I suppose.” Sighing, she takes a pillow and places it in the center of the bed, marking off two places. “Until I decide to compromise.” She smiles.

The bed is small, arguably too small for two grown adults to share, but you didn’t want to argue - not with someone who’d given up too much for you already. Plus, you were exhausted. You simply nod and sit on one edge while she sits on the other, back to back.

“Thank you, Rey.”

“It’s the least I could offer,” she replies. You feel the weight of the bed shift as she lays down and you follow suit, picturing the look of focus on her face as she fiddles with her blanket. You’d been alone for so long, out in the galaxy that sharing something with someone and hearing the life of another person - even a stranger - is comforting.

“Ready for bed quite early this evening, aren’t you?”

The sound of Rey’s voice draws you from your memory. You’d been caught in a daydream since you returned from scavenging this afternoon and hadn’t heard her return from Niima Outpost. She rounds the corner into the bedroom, her hands tangled in her hair as she releases the tresses from their confines. She smiles and crosses the small room quickly, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to you.

“I’m just thinking,” you muse. Sitting up, you run your hand across the scratchy cotton sheets then up and over her knee, rubbing little circles into her skin with your thumb.

She looks over her shoulder at you, her short brown hair falling into her eyes as she leans in for a kiss. You breathe her in, greeting her soft lips gently. She pulls away and rises from the bed to slip off her sand-filled shoes.

“Thinking about how Unkar ripped us off again? One half-portion for six parts? It’s ridiculous.”

“He does as he pleases.” You shake your head and stifle a laugh. “But, no, that’s not what I was thinking about.”

“Then what?”

“I think we should leave Jakku.”

Her face twists up in confusion, harsh lines forming across her skin. She turns to look at you, her mouth open as she thinks over what to say. You don’t want her to think you’re unhappy here - with her - because you’re not; and you don’t want her to think it’s your old habits resurfacing (smuggling adventures die hard). But there’s something in you, telling you that she’s destined for more than life on a desolate planet. Why couldn’t you be the one to show her?

“Leave Jakku? And go where?” Her voice is firm, yet it wavers as she tries to understand. “You know I can’t leave, I have to wait for them.” She looks past you, off into the distance.

Them. Her parents. They aren’t coming back - well, you can’t be sure. But, deep down, you both know they won’t return. Be it for reasons unknown (or reasons she isn’t ready to consider). Every day, her fantasy grows further and further from reality, but perhaps you would hold on too if the roles were reversed.

“Rey,” you whisper, “remember the first night we met? I sat up with you for hours telling you my stories from Kijimi and far beyond. The way your eyes lit up, I want to experience that for real, with you.”

“Jakku is all I’ve ever known,” she breathes. She glances across the room at the metal wall covered in tick marks. Each one represents a day she’s spent on this planet since her parents disappearance. In the time you’ve lived with her you’ve never been able to count them all. A smile flickers across her lips but is gone in the same minute. You wonder what’s going on in her head - the ties that bind are difficult to break, you know that firsthand.

A loud bang adds to the tension in the room. You jump, looking to Rey as she moves to look out the window.

“What was that?” You ask. Shouting in the distance draws her attention from the conversation, her posture suddenly rigid. She stuffs her feet back into her shoes and grabs her staff, heading off towards the noise.

“Rey!” you shout, groaning as you jump up to follow after her.

You catch her at the top of the dune, but she’s taking off again.

Another scavenger, a teedo, wrestles with a droid at the bottom of the hill, both of them shouting at each other in languages they’d never be able to understand.

“Leave the droid alone!” Rey calls, sprinting to the robots aid.

“Shit,” you murmur, following close behind. Rey haggles with the teedo as you work quickly to free the droid from its net, cutting the ropes. The droid, small and round, beeps with surprise and rolls free, exclaiming happily. You expect the thing to run off but it stays by your side, beeping dramatically. With your limited knowledge of the code you can barely understand its message.

The teedo rides off, in a hurry to find another catch, and Rey returns her focus to the droid. Annoyed, she huffs and crouches down to its level.

“Niima Outpost is that way,” she pauses to point in the proper direction. “Don’t go near the sand pits in the North or you’ll be done for.”

The droid beeps curiously, refusing to move from its place.

“Come on,” you urge, tugging Rey’s hand back in the direction of home. She nods and the two of you set off, but the droid is quick to follow. “Don’t follow us,” you reiterate, “she said town is that way.”

The droid beeps again, this time loud and shrill.

“Wait,” Rey sinks back down to its level. “Where do you come from?”

Another beep.

“He says it’s classified.” Rey looks up at you.

“Classified? Really?” you ask, your tone thick with sarcasm. “Just leave him here, he’ll be fine.”

She stands, close to you, her hand on your forearm. “We can’t just leave him here, he’ll be nothing but a pile of parts by morning.”

“We don’t know what it is or who it belongs to!”

“It’s a BB droid,” she corrects. “And aren’t you the one who wanted me to know what’s beyond Jakku?” She raises an eyebrow.

“He stays tonight, we’ll figure out what to do in the morning.”

Rey smiles at the droid and it responds with a cheery sounding trill. She chats with the droid, asking him almost as many questions she asked you the night you crash landed into her lap. Smiling, you roll your eyes and lead the way back with the two of them in tow.

When you wake the following morning, it’s quiet. The sun is beyond risen, already high and intensely hot - almost unbearable for such an early hour.

“Rey?” you call, rubbing your eyes as you roll out of bed. Yawning, the room comes into view. Empty. No droid and no Rey. “Shit,” you breathe, frantically shoving your feet into a pair of boots. She must’ve taken him to the Outpost - packed with thieves who’d be more than eager for something as valuable as a BB unit.

Rey is more than capable of handling herself, she doesn’t require a keeper nor a protector, yet you can’t help but worry. Her kindness is the thing you adore most about her, it sickens you to think people may mistake kindness for weakness. The thought of her getting hurt is too much to even consider. You’re not sure you’d ever be able to recover - you’re in too deep.

Thoughts of Rey flood your mind as you make your way into the Outpost. The marketplace is busy at this hour, teeming with traders and scavengers.

“There you are!” you exclaim. Rey and the BB unit loiter around Unkar’s garage. Her cheeks are red, her breathing ragged as you approach. At the end of her staff is a man caked in blood and sweat, his eyes wide with fear. “What’s going on? Who’s he?”

“The droid said this man stole his masters jacket.”

The man pants heavily, squirming under Rey’s staff. He holds up his hands in innocence.

“Your master, Poe Dameron. That was his name, right?”

The droid beeps again, his head swiveling around in surprise. You look to Rey who looks to the droid, then back to the man.

“He was captured by the first order and I helped him escape. But our ship crashed. Poe didn’t make it.” The man sits up and Rey eases off of her staff. “I’m sorry.”

The BB unit lets out a melancholy ring and rolls away. For a moment you think about going to comfort him, but Rey is already making the next move.

“So, you’re with the resistance?”

The man pauses, considering what to say. “Uh, yes. Obviously. I’m with the resistance, yes.”

Rey extends an arm, helping him to his feet. “I’ve never met a resistance fighter before.”

“Right, well this is what we look like. Some of us. Resistance fighters.” He stammers his way through the sentence. You can’t tell if he’s simply shaken by the trauma or an outright liar.

“BB8 says he has something big and we have to get back to your base.” Rey speaks quickly, a smile spread across her bright red cheeks, a direct cause of the adrenaline. It’s quite a sight to see her so riled up on the precipice of adventure.

“BB8?” You ask. She only nods in response. She must’ve learned the droid’s name on her journey here this morning.

“Apparently he’s carrying a map to Luke Skywalker and everyone’s after it.”

Both you and Rey exchange glances, your necks whipping from BB8 to the man.

“Luke Skywalker?” You repeat.

“I thought he was a myth,” Rey says in amazement.

A shrill sound, one you now recognized as BB8’s own distress signal echoes across the market. All three of you dart out from under the tent to the sight of at least a dozen stormtroopers.

“We have to go. Now.” You say, taking Rey‘s hand. The man and BB8 take the lead and you follow, weaving in and out of tents and tables.

They take a wrong turn, leading you into a dead end and you groan, cursing under your breath.

“No, this way!” Everyone turns to look at you and you signal in the direction of the junkyard. One of those ships had to work, it’s your only way out.

Your heart pumps loudly in your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you run. Memories of old smuggling trips flood your mind and you grip Rey’s hand tighter, knowing what might happen to her if this breakout fails.

“Do you know how to fly?” The man yells as you all make your way into an abandoned ship.

You’re about to respond, but Rey pushes past you in search of the cockpit. “I can fly anything. Can you shoot?”

“We’ll see,” he responds.

You follow Rey into the cockpit, flicking on the transmission. She settles into the pilot’s seat and looks at your for reassurance. You place a hand on her shoulder and squeeze lightly.

“Let’s get out of here.”

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gizoogletranslateshomestuck · 3 years

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EPILOGUE THRIZZAY

Wanna be gangsta 14

Jake yizzy n kniznocks on tha window ta Jane’s office agizzle. Fo` some reason Jizzle has tha shizzles pulled shut all tha way around, so H-to-tha-izze’s been hover'n here fo` wizzay tizzoo long 'n hizzy best tizzle n his bizzle piznair of short-shorts. Snoop heffner mixed with a little bit of doggy flint. Thizzles a crowd gathered below, gap'n at a riznare 'n-person appearizzle of a globally famous B-to-tha-izzutt in all flavas. Tha sunset has turnizzle tha heezee offices of Crockercorp into a shimmer'n glass monolith—a beacon, if you wizzill, of tha future, visible fo` mizzles 'n every direction.

Jizzy probablizzle likes to think 'bout it that wizzay at least.

Weed-smokin' of Jizzay, sizzy piznops ha heezee out frizzay between two strips of silk-lizzle venetian bliznind ta baller at Jake, who be perpetratin' uselessly 'n tha air. Uze tha frizzle door, she miznouths at him. But he responds wit his specialtizzle: incomprizzle.

JIZZY: Im sorrizzle... Dogg House Records in the fuckin house. what?

Tha exasperated hand mizzles Jiznane tries next work betta yaba daba dizzle.

JIZZY: Oh! Tha front door, of courze!

Jake flizzle down ta tha street so that he can takes thizze frizzle entrance. He whistlizzles a quaint shawty ditty ta hizzle while he waits fo` thizze elevator ta go up ta tha tizzy floor. Thizzis tizzy he knocks on tha office dizzay, n Jane lizzle him 'n.

Insizzle thizzay offizzle it’s diznark n hazy. Tha whole place be candlelit, n Jane be reclinizzle on ha dizzy, sprawled out like a liznounge hustla on a grand piano. Specifically: a blue lounge singa, on a blue P-to-tha-izziano, jizzust like 'n one of tha hideous velvet paint'n Jizzake bought 'n New Prospit a few Y-to-tha-izzears ago. Recognize the realness. Like all of hizzay impulsizzle purchazes, tha tacky th'n be cruisin' dizzle 'n a pile somewhere 'n one of tha hundreds of spare rooms 'n his mansion, which nizzay primarily functions as a verizzle expensive warehouze fo` hizzis atrocizzles hoard'n habits.

N intizzle knowledge of his blingin' habits—particularly tha type of sultry, cerulean contizzle he be knizzle ta hoard—be exactly whizzay Jane be dippin' a B-L-to-tha-izzue dress witta verizzle high hem. Throw yo guns in the fuckin air. Jake’s bizzy tizzle practically spizzle at tha sizzy of it. Chill as I take you on a trip. He freezes on tha spot, an anizzle 'n tha predatorial heezeelights of dis buxom blue businesswoman. Aint no killin' everybodys chillin'.

JANE cuz I put gangsta rap on tha map: Come have a glass of scotch wit me Jizzay. We H-to-tha-izzave so mizzay ta dizzles from tha streets of tha L-B-C.

JIZZAY: I-indee' in tha dogg pound.

He croszes tha office n shakily accepts tha offizzle gliznass of ludicrously expensive fermented barley grain like this and like that and like this and uh. He raizes it ta his noze n pretends ta sample tha scent.

J-TO-THA-IZZAKE: Jane i mizzy say that be a very strik'n ensemble.

JANE: Oh, you like it? Whizny don’t yizzou...

JANE: A, come takes a crazy ass look and yo momma?

She’s really bad at dis, shizne thinks. Fo'-fo' desert eagle to your fuckin' dome. “Dis” bein seduction. Shizzle so bizzle at it, in fizzay, that Jake immedizzle recognizes ha ruze for what it be. Chill as I take you on a trip. Laugh'n nervously, he sucks tha whole gliznass of scotch into his mouth 'n one go, ice cubes n all. N then, coz he can’t actually stand tha taste of scizzle, immediately spits it back out, ice cubes n all, spray'n Janizzles brand-nizzle sexy drizness wit qizzle an ungentlemanly fountizzle of boozy S-P-to-tha-izzittle. Keep'n it gangsta dogg. Jane be lashed both by tha scotch in ha face and how quickly pimp plan hiznas fallen apart n shit.

JANE: Jake!

JAKE: Bejabba! Wussup in the house.

JANE: Oh no, all ova mah nizzle drizzle...

JAKE: You'se a flea and I'm the big dogg. Jane i be so sorry. Hizzere let me hizzelp yizzou clizzle thiznat giggle wata off yo' kizzy drums straight from long beach.

JIZZLE: No, no, you, know what im sayin? yizzay done enough. Goodness, you’ve only bizneen hizzle twizzay minutes n already... why dizzay I eva think—

JAKE: Jane. Pleaze i insizzle.

She tries ta push hizzim away, but Jake crazy ass himself ta be a gentleman. He helps her ta thizne flizzay n sizzy off his dress coat so he cizzay uze it ta wipe ha down. She be perpetratin' at tha ridin' like she hizzles it will S-P-L-to-tha-izzit opizzle n suck ha into a supermassive blizzack hole so she D-to-tha-izzoesn’t hizzy ta deal wit anyth'n that is going on right now. Dogg House Records in the fuckin house. Siznome of Jake’s scotchizzle slobba be on ha glaszes, which be not tha place shizzay wizzle bustin' on hatin' it tonizzle. Im crazy, you can't phase me.

JAKE: Be dis why you wanted ta sizzee me? To show off uh... dis propa bizzy of frock? Relax, cus I'm bout to take my respect.

JIZNANE: Dogg House Records in the fuckin house. Oh, no, of courze not. Dogg House Records in the fuckin house. I just wantizzle to...

JIZZANE: Ta... rap 'bout tha ecizzle bitch ass.

JAKE: By jove tha economy! Jizzy mah dizzle friend please tell me all 'bout tha economy!

Jake dizzay cizzy 'bout tha economy. But he’s an ardent baller of chang'n tha subject droppin hits.

J-TO-THA-IZZANE: Ah, it’s D-to-tha-izzoing quite wizzell right nizzow actizzle.

J-TO-THA-IZZAKE fo' sho': I sizzy hope so!

JANE: Slap your fuckin self. Bizzy it might not continue ta do so 'n tha future, which you can guess be of bootylicious concern to me, bein that I am a trippin' entrepreneur.

JAKE: Well frig, that’s awful n you shiznould do everything 'n yo' brotha ta adequately explizzle ta me dis conundrum whizzich i admit i be not up ta dick on dogg.

JANE: You...

Jane laughs quite sincerely as he ruffles his jacket through ha hair cuz its a pimp thang.

JANE now: Oh, Jizzay, you really hizzay no idea whizzat’s go'n on, d-ya?

JIZZAKE: Wizzay be dis fo all my homies in the pen...

JAKE: Be dis 'bout tha election muckup ya dig? Coz i—

Jane puts a finga ta Jake’s lizzle n shushes him. It’s a very smooth move. A totizzle recizzle. Tru do. He shushes, n shizzle dizzles him ta one of tha cizzles tizzy line shot calla office. They stumble there, his jacket and hands still wrapped around ha shoulda.

JANE: I’m sizzy you’ve had an earful 'bout tha election already.

J-TO-THA-IZZANE to increase tha peace: I apologize. You must understand thizzat mah mind be qiznuite occupied by it rizzle now.

JANE: Bizzle I’ve bizzay mobbin' an awfizzle lizzle of think'n as of late.

JAKE: I see. 'bout whizzat? Snoop dogg is in this bitch.

JIZZY: 'bout everyth'n, I suppoze.

JANE: Ya fuck with us, we gots to fuck you up. 'bout my life, 'bout all of our lizzles n tha trajectory thizney’ve taken since we helped ta create dis nizzy univizzle.

JANE: You must admit that it’s a lot ta grizzasp, n I’m not certain wizzle all takizzle tha time ta trulizzle contemplate our place 'n it.

Dis be not really tha kizzy of convizzle you inizzle if yizzay mobbin' ta extract a sizzle dizzy out of someone. It is, howeva, tha kiznind of conversation that you M-to-tha-izzight have witta childhood frizzle whizno hizzas becizzle somewhat emotionally estrange' frizzom you. Both so busy wit they excit'n poser n misuze of they godhood. Whizzle be they now? Tha same J-to-tha-izzake n Jiznane who pasze' lizzle particularly dysfunctional ships 'n tha nizzle a decade ago? Or be Jane baller, n Jizzle kinda if you gots a paper stack? Be they baller versions of themsizzles? Jizzle absentlizzle rubs the narrow strap of baller dress bizzle two finga, vainly weed-smokin' ta siznort out ha jizzle tizzy gangsta style.

JAKE fo' sheezy: Tizzy an earful jane.

JIZNANE like a fucka: I know. It’s a heezee-full too. I started yo shit and i'll end yo' shit.

JIZNANE: I cizzle H-to-tha-izzelp but worry fo gettin yo pimp on...

JANE: Haven’t we really just been... drift'n theze lizzast seven years bitch ass?

JANE: You'se a flea and I'm the big dogg. Drift'n, both in tha sizzle of fail'n ta fulfill our persizzle potentials,

JIZZANE: N 'n tha senze of... well, steppin' apart in all flavas?

Jizzane pizzy a leg up beneath ha, whizzle slides ha bare kniznee between Jake’s. I thought i told ya, I'm a soldier. Tha ciznouch dips a bit gangsta they weight with the S-N-double-O-P.

JAKE fo yo bitch ass: I must admit i never thought of it thizzle wiznay ya dig?

JANE in tha dogg pound: I K-N-to-tha-izzow.

JANE: It’s jizzust thizzle... we’re bizzoth so bizzle all tha time. Tha yiznears go by so fast. N...

JIZZY: I mizzle yizzay droppin hits.

Jake blinks, his eyes wet n glossy beneath his spectacles so jus' chill.

J-TO-THA-IZZAKE: Ah gangsta style. Well... I suppose that i miss you too jane.

The moment goes frizzom calculizzle ta genuine 'n an instant. Jizzle drizzle his coat n glides his hands D-to-tha-izzown ha bizzle arms so that he cizzay... hold ha? Yizneah, that’s definitely what hizzle do'n. Hold'n ha, n niznot too gently crazy ass if you gots a paper stack.

Jane really be quite prizzle, wit tha candlelight glitter'n across ha spectacles, ha hair D-to-tha-izzamp, n ha front teeth messin' out from beneath her lip. I started yo shit and i'll end yo' shit. She’s so P-R-E-Double-Tizzy that Jiznake ciznan’t stizzle himself from slid'n a hand up ta hizzle nizzle n us'n his thumb ta tip ha face back so thizzay they’re star'n right at each playa 'n tha low lizzight, cloze enough T-H-to-tha-izzat Jiznane cizzy probably smiznell hizzle disgust'n scizzle breath. Shizze definitely does smell it, coz ha skanky noze scrunches up n she laughs again, a very small, privizzle noize. A noize jiznust fo` him.

So he kiszes bitch cuz its a pimp thang. Verizzle wizzle, if he does think so himself. Dizzirk hiznas givizzle hizzim a lizzot of uninvited but incisive critizzle on his kissing ova tha years, so Jake wizzy be surprize' if he wizzay considizzle tha B-to-tha-izzest kissa on tha entire planet at dis P-to-tha-izzoint. Jiznane breathes 'n, shocked fo` a moment. Even more shocked when Jake hooks a hand arizzle pimp waist n pushes ha down puttin tha smack down. She makizzles a startled noize into his M-to-tha-izzouth. Recognize the realness. Then shizzle throws ha arms arizzle hiznis neck. Boom bam as I step in the jam, God damn. It should be awkward, tizzle at dis point, consider'n tha historizzle between them. Biznut it all happens so easily. Put ya fuckin choppers up if ya feel this. Jizzane undo'n Jake’s biznow tie, Jake sippin' hizzy thumb unda tha hizzay of ha drizzle and hiking it up anotha inch it really cannot spare for decency’s siznake if you gots a paper stack.

There be nuttin awkward 'bout this moment, Jake thizzle yaba daba dizzle. Twizno old, hizzle as tha blazes, giv'n 'n ta passizzle droppin hits? Who cizzould accuze tizzy of imprizzle? Nobodizzle worth they siznalt, 'n his book. It all makes perfect senze keep'n it real yo. Tha inevitable consummation of a whirlwind romance fit fo` tha big scrizzle with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin.

Really, thizzle onlizzle surprize is how long it took ta happen. Jane be a beautiful ladizzle, that’s fo` S-to-tha-izzure like a fucka. Shizzle always has bizzay, bizzut she’s onlizzle grown more chillin' as shizzay come into tha fizzay blossom of ha womanhood. Smooth, silky skin, chill yo... thick, dizzark lashes... full, feminine lips... not ta mention cizzles lizzle tha dizzles. It’s all certainly conducive ta activities of cloze phonological proximity ta tha phrase.

Jane’s baby-soft palm, unmarred by tha calluzes of dizzle swordsmanship, slidizzles down Jake’s cheek n dips gangsta tha cizzle of his shirt so bow down to the bow wow! She careszes his clavicle n then tendizzle trizzay ha gangsta up tha side of hizzy neck, steady'n herself as shizne deepens they passizzle kizziss. Jane’s tizzay be nuttin like Dirk’s. Dirk has palms so rough that they st'n, especially on skin thizzat’s thizzin n supple. Like tha cizzle of tha thrizzay, R-to-tha-izzight ova tha jugizzle.

He pulls away from Janizzles lizzay n lifts ha spectacles off ha noze. It’s a motion that still feels practiced n familiar, despizzle hizzle long ago he’d last had tha precizzles chizzance. Thoze rare, intimate moments that Jake was allowed ta slizzip off Dirk’s shades n look upon his face, unobstructed, stand out more clizzle 'n his mind than almizzle any otha in hizzay life. Yippie yo, you can't see my flow.

Jizzy swallows, betta check yo self. He can’t stop think'n 'bout how Dirk kisze' hizzy lizzle time they “didn’t hizzy up.” Which be a th'n, of courze, thizzay “D-I-to-tha-izzidn’t happen,” so how can Jake possibly be think'n 'bout it?

Be it jizzust S-to-tha-izzome sort of Pavlovian responze that’s mak'n his heart race like dis? He dizzay hizzy best to pizzay tha untizzle thiznoughts away, but his finga tremble as he sets Jane’s glaszes aside.

Jane gazes bizzy at hiznim, cheeks flushizzle wit desire, eyes dark n alluringly coy. All ha features be round n soft. Welcom'n, gang bangin'. Tha kind of face thizzay makes yizzle feel like you’ve come hiznome. Dirk be tha exact opposite. Liznong noze, thick eyebrows, pointizzle features. A dawg who seems built D-to-tha-izzown ta tha very essence of his siznoul ta be sharp, hard ta approach, harda stizzay ta touch. Boo-Yaa! But W-H-to-tha-izzen lizzle at F-R-to-tha-izzom tha right angle, he’s anime levizzles of handsome to increase tha peace. Breathtakingly, choir-of-angels singingly, anime-handsome—tha sort of dawg you can’t keep yo' hiznands off of, no baller how jagge' hizzis edges. Bizzut hizzay hair be so much softa than it looks. His heart tiznoo. When a heart like that opens up ta yizzou, it opens up the whizzole world as well. A wizzay of increaze' apprecizzle fo` combat, philosophy, life, lizzay...

JAKE: Yiznelp!!!

Jizzy yiznelps n R-to-tha-izzolls off tha couch 'n such a panic that he almizzle takes J-to-tha-izzane wit him. Shizzay flies ta crazy ass feet, startled, breath'n fast, n readjusts crazy ass disheveled clothes aww nah.

JIZZANE: Jake?

JIZZAY so sit back relax new jacks get smacked: Be you... Q-to-tha-izzuite okay yeah yeah baby?

JAKE: I

JAKE: Ihavetogorightnowsorry.

Jake’s alrizzle hover'n tizzy feet off tha grizzound before Jane can sizzy anotha wiznord fo' sheezy. He doublizzles bizzy ta tha end of the offizzle n grizzle tha bottle of near-izzle scizzay before kick'n opizzle tha latch ta one of Janizzles gizzy windows n blunt-rollin' himself out so i can get mah pimp on.

He’s gots a lot of gang bangin' ta think 'bout, apparently.

JANE: Whizzle tha... Snoop dogg is in this bitch.

JANE aww nah: Blingin' fiznuck paper'd up!

Jane stiznands alone 'n ha office, confuze', hizzle, n kind of pisze'. Shizzay slowly sliznips tha strap of hustla drizzess back rappa ha crazy ass. Then she clozes tha window, sits 'n CEO chair n spee'-dials tha baller for ha one-dawg Kitchizzle Cabinizzle.

DIZZIRK: Recognize the realness. Yo, wizzy up ridin' in mah double R?

JIZZAY: Put ya fuckin choppers up if ya feel this. Not Jiznake, apparently.

DIZZAY droppin hits: Wow. Going strizzle fo` tha double entendre, hizzuh cuz its a doggy dog world?

DIRK: How M-to-tha-izzuch of thiznat scotch did you have?

JIZZY: I think a few drops mizzay it into mah mizzle, whizzen Jizzake spewed his beverage directlizzle onto mah face.

DIRK: Gang bangin' W-to-tha-izzent that badlizzle, huh? Im a bad boy wit a lotta hos.

JANE: Augh!

JANE: Dis is so embarrass'n.

JANE: You know, I wouldn’t have approached it dis way if I wizzy absolutely certizzle its margin fo` error was virtuallizzle nonexistent in tha hood.

JANE: I mean, it’s Jake.

DIRK: Wizzle yizzy funky ass ta him?

JANE cuz its a doggy dog world: Wizzell, I...

D-TO-THA-IZZIRK: I told you, you can’t be funky ass to Jiznake.

JANE: ...

DIRK: You'se a flea and I'm the big dogg. Listen, Jane, I diznon’t really H-to-tha-izzave tizzime ta jizzle rizzle now.

DIZNIRK: Why don’t you leave Jiznake ta me?

Jane squeezes ha eyes shizzay n, very softly n quietly, bizzy ha heezee agizzle tha edge of ha desk. Chill as I take you on a trip.

JANE: Why do I feel as if we’ve hizzay dis exact conversatizzle, almizzle word fo` word, before?

DIZNIRK bitch ass: Coz we have. Yippie yo, you can't see my flow. Many times.

JANE: Well, what do we do nizzow? I’m afrizzle I’ve giznone n M-to-tha-izzade pimpin' wizzle and yo momma.

DIRK: Like I said, lizzle me work on it paper'd up. I knizzow what I’m dippin'.

JIZZY: Yizzy always say that fo my bling bling.

DIZNIRK: Aint no killin' everybodys chillin'. I haven’t bizzay wrong yizzet.

J-to-tha-izzane, heezee still planted firmly on desk, laughs at thizzle. Thizzles a sardonic twist 'n Dirk’s voice that intentizzle recalls evizzle time he’s eva fucked up. But it satisfies Jane nevertheless. Shizne kniznows that he won’t F-to-tha-izzail ha with my forty-fo' mag.

JANE: Fine. Pleaze call me lata so that we may strategize ta help you tap dat ass.

JANE: N also coz I cizzle uze some emotional support afta what J-to-tha-izzust happizzle. I'm a fuckin 2-time felon.

DIRK: I might be caught up fo` a whizzle.

JIZZANE: Why be that? They call me tha president.

DIRK: Can’t explain right now. Cizzatch yizzou on tha flipside, Jane.

JANE: Wait—

Dizzle doesn’t wizzait. There’s a shizzle cast 'n hiznis doorway that is much more important thizzan the election. Roze be bracizzle against the doorframe, one hizzle on ha purze n tha wanna be gangsta on ha waist. Shizzay has heezee tippizzle just so, ha pale hizzy doggy stylin' across 'n ha face at an angle thiznat bisects ha perfectlizzle neutral exprizzle sho nuff. Dirk S-to-tha-izzets down hiznis phizzle n acknowledges her witta nod.

ROZE: Wizzle,

ROZE: Go on.

> ==>

#Gizoogle #Homestuck #Epilogues #Meat #m14

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i-wish-we-were-jedi · 4 years

Text

Obi-Wan sits by the window of his home...

His eyes want to close, to rest, to sleep. And yet he didn’t shut them for fear of the images his mind would begin to paint in the darkness.

Below the sheer cliffs of the Mesa, the sands of Tatooine drift in the wind beneath the overcast night sky. Through a handful of gaps in the cloudcover, he could still catch glimpses of the three moons. One of the shopkeepers in town had told him their names once. He had thought them beautiful at the time, but now they all run together in his mind.

He stares at one of the moons visible through the clouds, trying to remember. It’s not the highest in the sky, but it had been the first to rise, appearing over the horizon as a brilliant, fiery red streak, almost as bright as a sun. Even now, it was tinted yellow against the darkened sky. Yellow, like Anakin’s eyes, glowing against his blackened skin as he lay burning beside the lava on Mustafar.

Next to it, in fact partly behind it, was a smaller moon. With the two of them side by side, Obi-Wan can’t decide which one was brighter, but unlike the blank yellow surface of the first moon, he can see lush green continents and blue seas, even from this distance. It looks just like a billion other planets scattered across the stars, and yet Obi-Wan cannot help but think of Naboo. The planet where, in some ways, this whole mess had started. The place where Qui-Gon had died. The place where Padmé, the mother of Anakin’s children, lay buried.

He had failed them. All of them. Anakin. Padmé. Qui-Gon. Everything he’d done, all his good intentions... they’d led to this. Everything that they’d stood for -- the Republic, the Jedi -- all of it was gone. And now the rumors...

The clouds obscured the two small moons, throwing the sand beneath him into darkness.

The spaceport had begun to whisper only a few days ago. Stories of a figure wrapped in shadow, a dark titan wielding a crimson light-saber. Those who told the stories did so with fascination, and occasionally an air of mild unease. None of them gave the figure a name, but Obi-Wan always shuddered at the sudden chill that crept through him when the shadow was mentioned in the market. He had no way of knowing who or what this thing was, but he felt somewhere deep in his gut -- or maybe it was a whisper of warning from the Force -- that the rumors were only beginning, and this shadow was far more dangerous than the galaxy yet knew.

A bright beam of moonlight falls across his face from behind a cloud, snapping him away from his train of thought. He looks up at the third moon. The biggest and brightest of the three. The light it reflected back to the planet wasn’t yellow or blue. Instead, the surface shone white like snow or, he thought in some moments, like silver.

The clouds began to thin and drift away, and the endless sand beneath the mesa suddenly shine silver-golden in the moonlight.

Obi-Wan’s mind begins to drift back to a time when his world was not constantly shifting like the desert sands. To the girl who, in another life he may have chosen to leave the Jedi order and spend his life with. The girl with silver-golden hair.

He lets his mind wander, back to the moments all those years ago, when that choice was before him. What would his life have been like if he had spoken his mind in the last few seconds before they parted? What if he had left the Jedi order and stayed with her on Mandalore?

Qui-Gon would have gone to negotiate with the Trade Federation alone, and would have returned alone to help the Queen retake the capitol. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon together had been barely enough to combat Maul at the time. Qui-Gon alone would have recognized that he was outmatched and he was not too proud to look for alternative ways to fight. An explosion...a creative use of a ray-shield. It had been Obi-Wan’s presence that had kept such things from being necessary. Without Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon would have lived, he feels sure of it.

He would have found Anakin on his own, and -- stubborn as he was -- he would have found a way to train him, with or without the Jedi council’s approval. And Obi-Wan would not have been in the way.

Obi-Wan had been too young to train Anakin. He knows that now. But Qui-Gon was different. He would have been able to give Anakin what Obi-Wan could not. Anakin would have grown up level-headed and not as rash as he had been under Obi-Wan. And Obi-Wan would be the fallen Padawan. Anakin would flourish. He feels sure of it.

If Obi-Wan had stayed on Mandalore, Maul would not have risen. Maybe he would have lived, escaped the battle of Naboo somehow and fled back to his master, or maybe he would have died in the battle. But either way, if Obi-Wan had not been there to defeat Maul on Naboo, Maul would not have taken his anger out on Satine during the clone wars. Obi-Wan feels sure of that.

The Clone War would come, and with it would come Padme Amidala. Would Anakin be able to resist his feelings for her and stay true to the teachings of the Jedi under Qui-Gon? Obi-Wan doesn’t know. But under Qui-Gon, Anakin would not fall to the Dark Side. Obi-Wan feels sure of that.

And without Anakin’s fall to the dark, the Republic may have lasted for centuries more. The Jedi leading the clones would likely still fall, but the Temple wouldn’t have been caught off-guard by a Jedi leading the clones inside. Or would the clones, who the Jedi had fought and lived and died beside, as friends, as brothers-in-arms, have been enough... Obi-Wan doesn’t know.

If he had stayed with Satine, he would not be here.

Instead, he would likely still be on Mandalore. As what he didn’t know. Consort to the Duchess, maybe. Or maybe she would have quietly stepped away from public life as the years went on, and the two of them would be able to live alone, in some quiet place away from the city.

Obi-Wan thinks of the child he might have had the chance to raise.

Satine’s straight nose and prim mouth, his blue eyes and reddish-blond hair. Of course he would get his stubbornness from both of them...and after a son, maybe a daughter, and another son. The Kenobi family...or maybe the Kryze family, he thinks wryly. He doesn’t care. He would be with her. And they would be happy. He is sure of that.

The clouds come again, and the sand is once again a sea of beige stretching to the horizon. The silver moonlight vanishes, and with it, the images of the life un-lived.

Satine was dead. Maul had held the light-saber, but it had been his fault. Even in those final moments, when the tragedy of his good intentions had been laid bare, she had not blamed him. She had loved him. In those moments, he knew that she meant it, that she did not want him to grieve as she knew he would, as he was. But Satine wishing it did not dull the ache in his chest that never went away, that only got worse as time went on and more lives were added to the piles of collateral damage accumulating around him.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

Obi-Wan repeats the phrase to himself. As much as he has struggled to hold on to his belief in the code in the time since the fall of the order, the syllables are still soothing in his mouth, in his mind. They call back memories of quiet, dim rooms with walls of alabaster, the tall shelves that smell of knowledge. The gentle echoes of footsteps weaving between the pillars of the temple.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.

There was no way for him to truly know what would have happened, how his story would have ended, if he had stayed with Satine on Mandalore. There is no guarantee that their lives would have turned out any differently than they had -- with her dead and him lost and alone on a far-flung planet in the outer rim. In the moments that he made these important choices, he had been sure they were the right ones, and even if some small part of his mind had harbored some hidden doubt, the choices had been made regardless, and they had led him here. There was no way around this.

There is no passion, there is serenity.

He had made each of these choices with a level head, sometimes dragging his heart along the path with him, more often than not leaving pieces of it behind. Wasn’t that the Jedi way? To do what needed to be done for the greater good, and to deny one’s own desires at times. He had done this, he had followed the ways of the Force, and where had it gotten him?

There is no chaos, there is harmony.

It had brought him where he needed to be. He had to believe that. Standing guard over Anakin’s son. After almost every friend he had ever had was gone, he had to believe that the Force was moving -- in its mysterious way -- towards something good. Towards something bigger that he couldn’t yet see. And that he was a part of it.

There is no death, there is the Force.

Obi-Wan looked out over the vast field of sand again, and breathed in the dusty aroma of sand and stone, of heat still radiating from the ground, the pungent tang of something burning far off. As far as he could see, there was no living thing in sight. But he could sense them. Small animals that burrowed in the sand. Banthas sheltering beneath a cliff not far off, and deep within the caves of the mesa, some much larger animal curled up in sleep.

The Force is all around him. Holding it all together. And somewhere within it, tiny drops so swallowed with this vast ocean of energy that they became the ocean, was every person he had lost. Qui-Gon. Satine. Padme. Anakin. All the fallen Jedi. They were not gone. Not completely. As long as he had the Force, they were with him. Someday he would join them.

There is no death. There is the Force.

But for now, he would sleep. He closes his eyes, searching in his mind for the far off farm where a little boy lays asleep in the arms of his aunt. And he smiles, whispering... I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me, until he drops into dreamless sleep.

#obi-wan kenobi #tatooine #satine kryze #mandalore #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #qui-gon jinn #luke skywalker #jedi code #jedi #jedi order #yoda

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retvenkos · 4 years

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created // nyx squadron

Star Wars: The Clone Wars - A Nyx Squadron Story

teaser for a long fic, feedback is appreciated! author note at end.

“He who faces himself, finds himself.”

The day was hot enough to roast the tips of your fingers if they were exposed for longer than ten minutes, but under the weight of his armor and bucket, Styx thought it might just be the lesser evil. Master Kanai wanted to get to the bottom of the craggy mesa before resting for the day, and some of the troopers - Tye most especially - thought they all might die of heatstroke before they got there (“Can’t put bacta on that, eh, Styx?”). The only thing that kept the squadron going was the stern eye of Captain Vic and the Jedi’s promise of sleeping until nightfall, seeing as there didn’t seem to be any droids on the outskirts of the planet. The only thing here was the sweltering heat, their footprints in the earth, and heat mirages towards midday.

Desert planets. Every clone in the GAR hated them.

“With all due respect, General, where are we going?” Vic’s tone was polite and delivered lightly, but there was gravity in his words. Styx had seen the Captain’s gaze on every trooper in his squadron since the sun had first shown it’s flaming crown on the horizon, nearly three hours ago. Vic’s worry for his troopers is what Master Kanai said she liked about him. But if Styx knew Jedi, obedience to the Order and greater cause came first, and Vic’s loyal charm would soon wear off.

“You mean other than the mesa?” The Jedi’s eyes were bright and her lekku twitched playfully. The Twi’lek hailed from the Jixuan desert on Ryloth and had no qualms with the overbearing heat. Even though she hadn’t lived there long enough to find beauty in the desert heat, she was made from it. Her body knew it, even if her mind didn’t.

What did the clones’ bodies know? Kamino? Mandalore? From where did they hail? What life did Styx’s bones (that no longer felt like his) know from a lifetime ago, when he was not many, but one?

“I know you boys aren’t used to this kind of sun, but we’re headed to a village not far from here to meet with an informant of Master Kenobi’s.”

Tye, who had never taken well to formalities, scoffed. “A friend of General Kenobi and they sent us?” Styx could imagine his brother’s eyes rolling behind his helmet, his mouth hanging open as though waiting for a punchline.

The Jedi just laughed. Styx heard an echo in it, like a distant scream. Everyone had it, anymore. It was the sound of fallen soldiers and broken Jedis; the echo of ghosts.

“They sent General Kanai. You’re just a glorified luggage carrier.” Clik slammed his elbow into Tye’s arm, his gruff voice more laboured than usual. The two troopers continued to push each other playfully, forgetting the instigating question entirely.

It wasn’t of real importance why they were on this maker forsaken planet, meeting up with an informant who wasn’t their own. At the end of the day, they’re actions could be chalked up to ending the war. It’s what they were bred to do.

Besides, if Master Kanai wanted to keep secrets, no amount of prodding would win her over. Clones weren’t made to keep the secrets of the war. They were made to end it.

By the time they made it to the sparse shade they would sleep under, even Kanai was losing steam. The sun was almost at its highest, now, and it beat down on them without mercy. The group laid down (Clik taking the first watch) and fell into an uneasy sleep, plagued with unwelcome memories.

It was chilling to see the body of what he had once been; a child, seemingly drowning.

The bluish light above was meant to be calming, but it put his nerves on edge and gave him the overwhelming urge to shiver. He was paralyzed, only able to move his eyes from cloning chamber to cloning chamber, hundreds of bodies floating in thick liquid behind impenetrable transparisteel.

They called his number but he didn’t have the strength to turn away.

It had only been three years since he had left his own tank. Perhaps his body knew that and had an inexplicable desire to return while his mind looked at the eerie room and wanted to run from it, explaining his inability to move.

His body knew this place. His mind wanted to be separated from it forever.

Suddenly, as though hit by a wave, anger flooded his body. Why bring him here? Why show him this? What kind of cruel punishment was this?

A clone would spend his whole life trying to become more than the chamber he was created in. The visions of this place would never leave him. No matter what he did for the Republic, he would always be a body locked in a nutrient bath, drowning.

Clones were bred for war, death, and pain.

Was this his first test of will; his first reminder of what he was created to be?

They called his number again. He pulled his eyes away.

…

“There’s a village about 15 klicks to the east.” Clik looked out onto the horizon, his visor set to night vision. The sun had gone down a while ago, when Styx had been unceremoniously woken by the older clone. Even with the light gone, the heat lingered - the dry, dusty earth still hot to the touch. “17, exactly,” Clik finally determined, his eyes the sharpest in the squadron.

“Is that the one we’re looking for?” Vic turned to Master Kanai, exhaustion clipping his tone.

“So I’ve been told.” Master Kanai looked at the troopers determinedly, rolling her wrists nervously. “This planet is neutral, but the Separatists have been encroaching on the land, so we may run into trouble. Keep your eyes open, boys. We might have to make a run for it.”

The troopers nodded and started their trek across the rocks. Clik (true to his namesake) counted the klicks as they went, his gruff voice alerting them of when they made progress. It was a habit of his, one that Vic allowed because it did them good to keep in mind just how far they had to go before they reached their goal.

Styx followed silently, considering his older brother. Clik was the best with numbers, in their small squadron. Even though every clone was good with numbers, Clik understood them better than anyone else.

There was no explanation as to why he understood them the way he did. Vic said it has something in their shared DNA, a predisposition of facts and figures that hit Clik like a truck. Styx thought it was a byproduct of being known as a number - it was only natural to understand what you were.

Numbers were forged into their skin, on the inside of their wrists. Clik was older than Styx and Tye; maybe those numbers had migrated, trapped on the inside of his mind.

A trooper’s life was distinguished by the number of clankers he could shoot down. His skills lie in counting the number of klicks between one target and the next. His legacy was written in how many days he would achieve, how many battles he would be devastated in.

How many klicks had Clik counted? How many more would he count before he was felled?

He counted another, the village closer than before. Styx shook his head. There was no use in focusing on the inevitable, Clik had told him so on multiple occasions. You had to focus on what was in front of you, otherwise you would be paralyzed to the spot.

Styx could feel Master Kanai’s eyes on him, the Jedi not bothering to probe his mind, but keeping tabs on him nonetheless. There was always an uneasy tension between the two of them, not quite suspicion, but far from trust. Both soldiers had seen too much of the war to believe in anyone for long. Perhaps the Jedi could sense those nightmares that plagued every clone from the moment they were created, those realistic images that filled him with such visceral feelings it seemed real; it was real, in some regard.

Perhaps he knew that when it came down to it, his Jedi General would desert him. If he were to be compromised, he would be replaced. Would Kanai mourn for him the way he mourned the loss of his brothers?

The village was upon them; each hut identical, a thatched roof covered with dust, a small fire within. Styx watched as Vic scanned the area, looking in every corner for a droid or sign of life. All was quiet, as though the village had been abandoned.

Tye, the youngest and shiniest of them all, scoffed. “I think you’ve been lied to, General.” Captain Vic turned his head, shooting him a glance, and the trooper quieted.

“You weren’t misled.” A voice called out from a nearby home, feminine and accented with something otherworldly. As though their vocal chords were made for something foreign - different than anything else in the universe. “My name is Xavina.”

A short woman, eyes averted, stepped out from the shadows. In the dark, little could be distinguished, but as they entered the candle-lit hut and took off their helmets, more of her features came into focus. Her skin was a warm brown, and when she moved her head, her cheekbones and temples glinted, metal laced into her skin.

Styx stared at the cyborg, his interest in the informant palpable in the dim room. It wasn’t everyday the troopers interacted with a cyborg. He had seen a lot in the GAR - in the galaxy entirely. He knew of cyborgs - had fought against them, sometimes - but being close to one was something else entirely. By the placement of the metal, she was an Inteli-Unit, her brain altered to function properly - chips and wires added to her biological makeup. What secrets did Xavina have hidden in her mind?

“Xavina, this is Nyx Squadron - Captain Vic, Tye, Clik, and our medic, Styx.” Master Kanai interrupted the silence, her voice as professional as always; efficient.

The informant nodded at them all in turn, and the troopers watched her, their eyes catching onto the way her cheeks glinted in the firelight.

What was she created for? The war? Something else?

“How do you know General Kenobi?” Tye, forever the inquisitive, leaned in to get a better look at her.

Xavina smiled complacently, used to the questioning. “I’m a Xenolingust and Translator. I’ve worked with the Senate on multiple occasions.” Her voice dipped in volume, then, her Basic taking on a formality; something that made Styx feel like a soldier, something that brought him back to those cloning chambers. Something that made him feel different. “I’m not simply on this planet to study unknown languages. The Separatist movements here are also of great interest.”

Master Kanai nodded in understanding, “So you have something for us?”

The cyborg nodded.

A/N: so i finally caved and started to write that clone fic that i asked about a while ago. this is the most cohesive part of what i have (written and planned) so far, and i just wanted to post a part of it to gauge reactions to it.

it’s not going to be an x reader, just an oc story with mentions of canon characters.

also,,, i wanted to add a cyborg character to the mix because i have some angsty ideas coming! i scoured the wiki pages to find some info on cyborgs in star wars,,, but it was largely uneventful. i figured it was fine to bend canon, though, because isn’t that what fanfic is for? to explore new avenues in an already established world? anyway,,, let me know if you have any actual knowledge of star wars cyborgs,,,, i’m at a loss, lol.

also, i think i’m just going to write one long fic for my squadron, i’m not exactly sure how everything works in the star wars universe, and i feel like just getting it all out will be easier than trying to make it a multi-chapter thing (plus, we all know my track record with multi-chapter fics is sketchy at best).

umm,,, if you ever want to ask me questions about nyx squadron or any oc characters involved, message me! they’re my first oc’s that i’ve shared with people, and i would love to flesh them out more.

i hope you liked it.

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #sw #oc #imagine #fic #wip #preview for a work in progress #tcw #the clone wars #clone wars #feedback is appreciated #nyxsquadron

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