#i will stop with the comparisons to other ships over MY DEAD BODY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jessepinwheel · 1 year

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I adore your Circuits series, and that you made obiwan and padme imperfect people and also thoroughly people. I won't ever get enough of clones being people in their own right, either, so if you feel inspired, maybe one of the clones being content in their life and not giving a thought to the Big Damn Heroes?

hi it's been a year but I've been writing race con and I wanted to write a thing where carrion isn't dead so here are some clones. warnings for kamino, I guess?

It is raining on the day CT-3122 leaves Kamino.

He is frightened--he is not ready to leave, hadn't expected to be deployed for another year and a half, at least--but the war is now over and General Windu had issued the transfer orders. All operations in Kamino are to cease--training stopped, medbay cleared, and the clones are to leave Kamino and transition to the civilian sector. In the month since the orders went out, hundreds to thousands of clones have filtered out of Kamino by the day, an exodus that CT-3122 hasn't seen since the war started. Except this time it's not just the oldest zero series and Series 1 clones getting shipped out--it's everyone, down to the youngest Series 4 batches. These days, Kamino feels very empty.

Now it is CT-3122's turn to leave.

Commander Colt told them to make their goodbyes. CT-3122 only had one goodbye to make--to Ossus Mu, his medical instructor. He knows that his brothers, even those among the medical track, do not like the Kaminoans, but Ossus Mu had taught him the art of medicine, how to navigate an autopsy, how to surgically repair a body. In all the four years CT-3122 has known her, she has been patient, never yelling or getting upset with his speech issues. She was not indulgent or easy to please, but she was calm where the trainers had been harsh, and CT-3122 does not think he would have survived Kamino if not for her. So he told her goodbye.

"You are a credit to my teachings, CT-3122," she had told him. "I hope you will put your skills to good use in the future."

It was the first time CT-3122 had been praised so strongly, and he'd been giddy as he saluted her one last time.

He will miss her.

CT-3122 owns nothing but his medical uniform and ID badge, so that is all he takes with him to the transport. Other brothers bring their armor if they are old enough to have any, and some bring small items and bags--undoubtedly some kind of contraband, but the Jedi had told them to bring everything.

He goes up the ramp, gets registered, and settles down in one of many seats.

All the clones had been given a choice, back when the transfer orders had first gone through. They could go to a few places--the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, the Jedi Service Corps, or one of a few sanctuary planets across the galaxy. They were not required to stay where they picked, but they would remain there for at least a short time to acclimatize to civilian life and, if they chose, make their own way in a galaxy where the war they had been designed for no longer existed.

It is a frightening prospect.

CT-3122 is going to Alderaan. It is a popular choice. There is an established and rapidly-growing clone community, there are many options for occupational training, and according to brothers who have been deployed, it has a very agreeable climate. CT-3122 does not care about any of those things--he is not generally comfortable around brothers he does not know, he already has all the occupational training he could ever want, and he has no basis for comparison when it comes to any climate besides Kamino. He is going there for one reason only: his big brother, Carrion, is there.

One by one, brothers file onto the transport, a mishmash of white armor and cadet uniforms. There's about two hundred of them in total, and it's a slow process to get everyone on board.

One brother sits next to CT-3122. It's Freeze, with her curly hair clipped back and the bright yellow adenosine molecule that CT-3122 had tattooed just below her eye. She's a medical unit and only a few months older, specializing in anesthesiology. CT-3122 has been partnered with her since the beginning of the war, and they work well together. They're not friends, exactly--CT-3122 isn't good at making friends--but they're more than just colleagues. She is confident where CT-3122 is not, and he is comforted by her presence.

"Are you scared?" he signs, low so nobody else sees it.

Freeze smiles and nods. "I've never been more scared," she signs back.

The last of the clones board the transport and the doors lock. Everyone is a little bit nervous, a little bit excited--for almost everyone on this transport, this is the first time they will see the galaxy outside Kamino. A quick glance around reveals that he and Freeze are some of the youngest clones aboard, only seven and a half years apiece. Most brothers their age or younger had chosen to go to the Jedi Temple or to Service Corps--somewhere they can learn, can work, can have someone to tell them what they need to do.

The transport shudders as the powerful engines come alive. Freeze slides her hand into CT-3122's and squeezes tightly. CT-3122 squeezes back.

The transport takes off, and CT-3122's stomach lurches. It's not the first time he has ever been on a ship--all units are required to know the basics of piloting--but the last time he was on a ship was over a year ago, and never on something this large. The ship vibrates unpleasantly all the way down to his bones as it rockets out of atmo, and then with a peculiar pulling sensation, it launches to hyperspace.

In a flash of blue light, they leave Kamino--their lives, their purpose, their home--behind. They will likely never return.

---

The trip to Alderaan takes two days. Two days aboard an unfamiliar ship as they sail through hyperspace. CT-3122 stays with Freeze for most of it, because everyone else on the transport is a stranger. Combat units do not, as a rule, interact much with medical units--they're put off by the fact that medical units are trained directly by the Kaminoans and their course modules after the age of four rarely overlap. Except for a few older medical units coming to briefly check on them, everyone leaves them alone.

CT-3122 spends most of his time next to the viewport, watching the hypnotic streaks of hyperspace fly past. He wonders what will await him when he reaches Alderaan. He has heard the stories, of course--soldiers brought back from the front for advanced medical treatment always told stories about the different worlds and people out there. They talked about planets with forests as far as the eye can see, endless bone-dry deserts, plains full of frozen ice. There were so many living things out there, plants and animals and people of all shapes and sizes and colors.

CT-3122 has never known anything but the white halls of Kamino, and the idea of a world beyond its walls, beyond the endless rainstorms where things were even more vivid and alive than what they had seen in their educational holos has always felt…impossible. He can't even picture it--they are all just stories.

Freeze leans against his side, her head resting on his shoulder as she sleeps soundly, her fingers still twined with his. She is warm, and CT-3122 finds comfort in the weight. He wonders if Freeze, who has always seemed so sure of herself and who she wanted to be, already knows what she will do with her future. He wonders if they will work together again after they reach Alderaan, or if that is another relic they have left behind in Kamino.

He doesn't know. Ever since the war ended, there are so many things he does not know.

---

When the transport drops out of hyperspace, everyone is crowded around the viewports to see. Alderaan is a pale sphere of swirling greens and blues and white--nothing at all like the gray clouds and dark oceans of Kamino. CT-3122 watches as they descend, watches as colors resolve into shapes and lines. He has no idea what he's looking at, but it's fascinating--nothing like the clean topographical maps they'd used in training.

They descend slowly to a large spaceport in the middle of a large sprawling city. And then…the doors open.

Alderaan is bright. The sky is shining blue, the clouds are white, the structures all around them--the mountains, they were called--are green and capped with white. CT-3122 steps down the ramp to be met with a spaceport that has been painted in grays and bright oranges and reds and blues and standing on the landing zone…

Clones. There's a good group of them, maybe forty or so, all dressed in different kinds of clothes--things with designs and frills and colors and layers they would have been immediately disciplined for in Kamino--and not a speck of plain white to see.

CT-3122 takes a deep, shuddering breath. The air is chill, and it doesn't smell like antiseptic or rain--it smells completely new. It hits him, then, that this is real. They've left Kamino behind and he is out in the real galaxy. Out in his new life.

"3122!"

CT-3122 turns towards the sound of his number, just in time for a brother to scoop him up into his arms and squeeze him tight. "You made it!" Carrion says, swinging him around in a circle. He puts CT-3122 down and grins. "I'm so glad to see you, kid."

Carrion looks different from the last time CT-3122 had seen him, when he'd been deployed after Geonosis. He's one of the oldest clones, fully grown and solid enough to show for it with the scar across his cheek distinct as always. But he looks lighter now, more rested, happier. His hair's grown out a bit, hanging down to his shoulders in waves and dyed with a couple streaks of orange to match the 212th.

CT-3122 hugs him back. "Carrion, I couldn't--" He shakes his head. "…I'm really glad to see you, too. It wasn't--you really didn't have to wait. Sir."

Carrion huffs. "Of course I did. That's what big brothers do, right?" He ruffles CT-3122's hair. "And I was hoping I could pick you up and give you the tour myself. The others will be heading to the res halls, but I've got a place downtown, I think you'll like it." Carrion looks up. "And you've got a friend? I think you were…7721, right?"

Freeze waves hello. "That's correct, sir. I go by Freeze."

Carrion nods. "Freeze. I'll be taking '22 with me, but we've got room for one more if you're coming along."

Freeze nods. "Yes, sir, I'd like that."

With that matter settled, Carrion leads CT-3122 and Freeze out to the monorail station, pointing out trees and flowers and buildings as they go. There's so much going on everywhere that CT-3122 thinks his head is going to explode, but he keeps looking around as much as he can just to drink it all in.

"Is it--Alderaan is always like this? Sir?" he asks.

"Oh, just wait until we get to the clone district," Carrion says, pointing out the monorail window. "Right up there, you see it?"

CT-3122 looks where Carrion is pointing, unsure what he's being directed towards, then he sees it.

It's an explosion of color. Murals on the walls, paint on the streets, sculptures and decorated buildings. Everywhere he looks, the district has been marked by his brothers with depictions of battlefields, of new and alien worlds, of sheer chaotic splashes of color. An entire district turned into a canvas.

Freeze gasps, staring at a wall-sized depiction of a dark-skinned Jedi holding a lightsaber to the sky. "Is this allowed?" she asks. "Isn't this vandalism?"

"It's art," Carrion says. "The Queen gave us a place to live and a bunch of paint and told us to do whatever we wanted with it."

It's so much. CT-3122 feels like he's back in his early days on medic track, falling five steps behind because there's just so much he needs to learn. He's not in Kamino anymore. The rules have changed. "Does that--you mean you live here? Sir?"

"No, this is the promenade," Carrion says as the monorail chugs along. "I live two stops down. I'll show you."

Carrion, it turns out, lives on the second floor of a residential building ("it's called a flat") that's made of reddish stone ("that's brick") and painted with swirling flowers. On the landing there is a little hanging device with metal rods that clang against each other in the wind ("that's a wind chime"). Inside, there are wood floors and soft green walls, with large colorful cloths ("those are tapestries") hung along the hallways and an enormous sliding window going out to a balcony that directly overlooks the mountains.

It's so much that CT-3122 feels dizzy, and Carrion must notice because he brings CT-3122 and Freeze into one of the bedrooms (there's three of them!) and has them sit down and drink some water. The bedroom is painted a light yellow but is otherwise quite sedate, and there is one bunk which is much wider than what CT-3122 is used to.

"This is the spare bedroom," Carrion says, pulling up a chair. "You can have it if you want, or you can share with me. Or you can find your own place. You don't have to decide right now. We've only got the one bed for now, but we could probably get another bunk if you prefer--"

"One bunk is--I think we'll be okay. Sir," CT-3122 says. He doesn't mind bunking with brothers, as long as he knows them.

Freeze nods in agreement.

"Okay," Carrion says. "I'll get you onboarded after you get some rest--get your ID and documents sorted out, a personal datapad, your credit chip. I'll take you kids out to buy whatever you need."

"Buy?" Freeze asks.

Carrion nods. "Yeah. You gotta actually go out and pick the things you want to have and pay credits for it. We all get a monthly stipend--a pretty small stipend, but definitely enough to cover all the necessities. It's a lot to learn, but you'll get used to it pretty fast. I'll show you how it works."

Carrion clasps his hands. "But before we do all of that…do either of you know what you want to do?"

Silence. CT-3122 looks at Carrion, then at Freeze. No answers there, either.

CT-3122 says, "I'm a surgeon. Sir."

"You are," Carrion agrees. "And a damn good one. But you're not even eight standard--natborns look at you and see a youngling. They're not going to let you do surgery."

"But I'm a medic!" CT-3122 protests. "I'm--I have strong skills, I can be useful, I--"

Carrion holds his hands up. "I know you are. And if you want to, you can keep doing medicine, and go back to surgery when you're a little older. But…you don't have to. The war's over, kid. You don't have to be wrist-deep in your brothers' guts anymore if you don't want to."

CT-3122 considers that. He's good at medicine--he's one of the best surgeons among all his peers--but he never chose to do it. He'd been assigned to the track when he was three, the same way all clones were.

His stomach twists. It feels like a waste to not use his medical skills. He's spent so long honing them, so long using them to repair his brothers during the war, that to let them go to the wayside feels…

It feels like a betrayal. Of everything he's done and is.

CT-3122 feels someone grab his hand again, and looks over at Freeze.

"I don't have to be a medic anymore?" she asks.

Carrion shakes his head. "No. You don't."

"What do we…have to do instead?" Freeze asks.

"You don't have to do anything," Carrion replies. He looks at CT-3122. "I remember, a long time ago, you asked me what I would want to do if I weren't a soldier."

CT-3122 remembers that. It had been sometime before the war, when CT-3122 had started noticing the trainers turning their jobs over to the older clones and leaving to do other things besides training. Carrion had told him it wasn't worth asking, because they were soldiers and talking about a world where they weren't was talking about a world where they didn't exist.

"Well, we're not soldiers anymore," Carrion says. "I'm helping to build this city for us, because I want this to be a place where all you kids can figure out what you want to be. You're still young. You've got plenty of time to try different things and see what you want to do."

"And that's…not a medic? Sir?" CT-3122 asks.

Carrion sighs. "I can't answer that for you. You have to tell me: do you enjoy doing medicine?"

"I'm good at it. Sir."

"That's not what I asked," Carrion replies. "Do you like it? Does it make you happy? Think about it before you answer, please."

So CT-3122 thinks. He thinks about being three years old and told he is insensitive to the sight of gruesome injury and would make a great sniper but would be more useful as a medic. He thinks about seeing a body that looks just like his, lifeless on a table and being told to cut it open and memorize what it looks like on the inside. He thinks about training exercises gone wrong and saving his brothers. He thinks about the ones gone ever more wrong, and having to tell his brothers that he can't save them, the most he can do is ease their suffering.

He is a good medic. Maybe even a great one. A credit to his teachings. He's saved hundreds of his brothers, brothers that nobody else could have saved because they didn't have his keen judgement or steady hands.

But at the same time, he remembers every brother he has refused to treat because he knew he wouldn't be able to save them. He remembers every brother he has decommissioned because it was better to be decommissioned than wasted, even if that meant making himself the cause of death.

He knows that in the wider galaxy, in a galaxy no longer at war, medicine and death do not go hand-in-hand the way they do in Kamino. But for him, he doesn't think he will ever be able to become a healer who is not also a killer.

"I…don't think I want to be a medic," CT-3122 says. "I don't want to kill my brothers anymore."

"Oh, kid," Carrion says. He pulls CT-3122 into a hug and squeezes tight. He's so much larger that he practically engulfs CT-3122, and CT-3122 sinks his weight against Carrion's chest, clutching the back of Carrion's shirt.

"What do I--What am I s-supposed to do now?" CT-3122 says into Carrion's shoulder. "If I can't--if I'm not a medic, then what am I good for?"

"I don't know, kid," Carrion says. "But we'll find that out together. I promise."

#fic: asynchronous circuit #star wars #fanfic #jessepinwrites

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zintranslations · 3 years

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Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 120

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Chapter 120: The Thirteenth Door

Right after the new year, it came about time for Gu Longming to enter his door.

Ruan Nanzhu selected a sixth door hint slip, and on it was a name familiar to all—Minotaur. A monster from ancient Greek mythology with a bull's head and a human's body that guarded a maze.

In the myth, it was a creature of an extremely violent temperament born of a human and a white bull. Shut away in the Labyrinth on the island of Crete, it ate seven pairs of boys and girls each year. Then it was killed by a bastard son of Athens, Theseus. Point was, there wasn't much intel to gain about the door from a hint like this. Only once they went in and encountered the actual situation could they connect it to the hint on the paper slip.

Lin Qiushi also showed this hint to Gu Longming ahead of time. After Gu Longming received it, he expressed his thorough gratitude for Lin Qiushi, and Lin Qiushi too was forthright with a vaccination—he said that in this door, he could not be responsible for Gu Longming's life, and Gu Longming ought to prepare himself accordingly.

Gu Longming agreed to every stipulation, and said he had already prepared himself for never coming out.

Their time of entry was roughly the tenth of the lunar new year, when celebrations were trailing off, leisurely vacations were coming to an end, and everybody grew busy again.

Lin Qiushi readied everything and began to wait for the door.

The tenth quickly came. It was a bright, sunny afternoon, and few people were in the mansion. There was only Lin Qiushi sitting in the living room eating Lu Yanxue's freshly cooked pumpkin seeds. Lu Yanxue's culinary skills were, as usual, the best; the pumpkin seeds she fried up were flavored with the five spices and fragrant as all hell. Lin Qiushi could pass an entire afternoon with just a handful of the stuff.

Ruan Nanzhu had already gotten changed and was waiting upstairs. Lin Qiushi saw that it was about time, and so hoisted his hefty backpack and headed upstairs to go look for him.

Due to their last door, Lin Qiushi intentionally stuffed his bag with a great number of food items. Daily necessities from outside could be brought inside, but weapons that were more against the spirit of the doors were not. Guns and other firearms, for example, could not be brought inside.

Once you'd entered the doors, of course, there might exist some special limitations, like in the sanitarium door when the NPC told them the rule where they could not eat food brought in from the outside. The reality was that these kinds of limitations were rare, but all Lin Qiushi wanted to achieve was the principle of Better Safe Than Sorry. At any rate, the condition from the tenth door where they had to open a chest if they wanted to eat had left quite the shadow on his psyche.

Lin Qiushi entered Ruan Nanzhu's bedroom and sat with him on the bed for a while. Then he felt the atmosphere around him change. It took only the time of a blink for Ruan Nanzhu, who had been sitting right beside him, to disappear without a trace. Lin Qiushi pushed open the bedroom door in front of him and saw that what had originally been the hallway was now a series of twelve black metal doors. What a familiar sight.

He walked to the sixth door and gave it a tug. The next moment, Lin Qiushi was sucked in by an immense force. The scenery around him was also altering dramatically, and by the time he opened his eyes again, he could feel a faint rocking beneath his feet.

Lin Qiushi took a closer look, and discovered that he'd appeared on a large old ship. It was just about sunset, and there were black clouds frighteningly low in the sky, as if they were going to smother the horizon at any moment. Inky seawater tossed before him, blown into violent waves by the winds.

Lin Qiushi smelled the gamy salt of the ocean, and because of the excessive waves, the ancient deck beneath his feet was ceaseless in its swaying. He saw that on the floorboards, there were seaweed-clung creatures clutching at the wood, making for an immensely uncomfortable sight.

Lin Qiushi took a few steps forward and saw in the ship cabin a dim-glowing light. He followed the corridor to the interior, and heard miserable wailing coming from inside.

"Uwaaaa, why am I here? What the hell did you all do to me?!" It had been a while since he last heard these cries of a newbie—Lin Qiushi was actually a bit surprised. He spotted the crying person immediately. It was a young woman, wiping at her tears with her hands. "You goddamn perverts, you guys must have kidnapped me. I'm going to call the cops and have you all arrested!!"

Most people were listening to her sob in silence. Newbies, after all, only ever reacted in so many ways: most cried; some tried to run; and some, of the truly psychologically frail sort, came in and pretty much had an immediate meltdown.

Lin Qiushi stood where he was. He noticed that around this girl were a few people who didn't look so good, who also seemed in various degrees of panic. They clearly weren't prepared to enter a door, and were likely newbies like the girl. But at least they weren't wailing endlessly like the young woman, and were still calm in comparison.

Lin Qiushi's gaze searched through the crowd and very quickly found its target—a woman seated in a corner and smiling at him.

The woman wore a long dress—the same outfit Ruan Nanzhu wore before they came in.

Lin Qiushi had the script in his head, and he took his time approaching the woman and holding out his hand: "Yu Linlin."

"Zhu Meng." The woman took his hand and smiled. "The red thread of destiny found us inside this door, let's cherish this meeting."

Lin Qiushi couldn't help but laugh.

"Indeed. Let's cherish this meeting."

Really, this little drama queen of his—putting on a show even when there was no stage to be had.

Just as the two were talking, a young man came tumbling in through the door. Though his face was unfamiliar, his clothes told Lin Qiushi his identity—it was Gu Longming, who'd agreed to meet with Lin Qiushi over the internet.

Gu Longming was entirely soaked. Once he came in he began to curse under his breath: "fuckers, throwing me on a lifeboat—why don't you just throw me into the ocean huh? Goddamn jealous of my beauty or what—"

Though he kept his voice down, Lin Qiushi's hearing was superb, and so could easily hear all the crap he was spewing. For a moment, Lin Qiushi himself didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Of course, he didn't laugh. He only cleared his throat once and covered his mouth with his hand, swallowing down the urge to smile. Gu Longming's eyes lapped the gathered people and very quickly fell upon Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu. He came over with a bright grin, greeting the two as if they'd just met completely by coincidence.

As a matter of act, this little trick where they faked a chance encounter was only useful for the earlier doors. Once in the later doors, that old fox-spirit manifested in everyone, and not having a partner actually made you the odd one out.

As for whether or not somebody would identify them as part of the same crew, Lin Qiushi used to worry about that. Now though, not so much.

The cabin of the old ship wasn't big, nor was it bright. The only lighting equipment was a handful of tiny kerosene lamps overhead, flickering periodically with the sway of the ship.

The sky grew darker outside, and the number of people kept increasing. Finally, it stopped at the count of fourteen.

Everybody assessed their surroundings as they met up with their own teammates. The crowd seemed to be very quickly divided up into teams, with the handful of newbies left out. Without much choice, they had to make up their own team.

Just as the crowd grew noisy with discussion, a middle-aged man came in from the outside. His get-up looked a bit like a medieval pirate, and he carried a swaying kerosene lamp in his hand.

"Welcome to the Black Skerry," the man spoke. His voice sounded quite raspy, like the effects of long-term drinking or smoking had brought about irreversible damage to his throat. "I hope you all have a good time here."

After he finished saying this, he laughed like a maniac, and his high-pitched laughter, like fingernails scoring a chalkboard, sent goosebumps rising along the skin.

"In ten days, the Black Skerry will reach harbor," the man said. "Our voyage will end then, so please enjoy our wonderful time together."

Just as he finished speaking, somebody rushed out of the cabin. Lin Qiushi first thought that this person had gotten scared, but not long after, there came from outside the sound of violent vomiting—it seemed that some unlucky bastard was seasick.

"Where in the world are we?" The sobbing young girl had also been scared by the man before her, and she spoke: "are we filming a show? I'm really, really scared, can I please quit? I don't want to play anymore, I'm begging you…"

The man completely ignored her. He merely went on watching the crowd with a cool gaze.

The girl seemed to want to go up and take hold of him, but when she got to his side she suddenly stopped, face draining of all color. She then backed up a few steps, as if she'd seen something truly terrifying.

Lin Qiushi's eyesight wasn't as good as Ruan Nanzhu's, and due to the dim lights he didn't see a thing. It was Ruan Nanzhu who quietly explained the situation to him:

"That person's covered in some sort of black insect."

Gu Longming shivered.

"Is he dead or alive then?"

"I don't know," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Doesn't look too good either way."

Under typical circumstances, only the NPC who provided them with the key information was somewhat normal. If even that NPC wasn't normal, then there really weren't any normal people to speak of.

Lin Qiushi hadn't imagined that their door this time would be an ancient ship. And by the looks of things, the time limit was ten days.

"Come along, I'll take to to where you'll sleep," the man said. "It'll be dark soon…and it'll rain."

After this, he began that manic laugh again, and the group was even more disturbed.

The man brought them to the guest cabins and began divvying up the rooms.

Most of the rooms here were doubles, with a rare triple here and there. At first, Lin Qiushi was assigned a double, but Gu Longming brazenly went and found a man to switch room numbers with, strong-arming them into a triple.

"You'll bargain for even this sort of thing?" Lin Qiushi shot Gu Longming a look of admiration.

"Well I'm scared of dying, aren't I…" Gu Longming said. He didn't want to sleep alone, and though it wasn't quite right to be a third wheel, being a third wheel was much better than being dead.

Ruan Nanzhu’s smile was inscrutable.

"That's fair."

They'd planned to inspect the entire ship, but because the night was already so dark, moving about outside would be too dangerous. They would rest first, and wait until tomorrow to make plans.

And so the three got their key and went to their room, getting into bed after quickly washing up.

When Ruan Nanzhu went to change, Gu Longming took the opportunity to poke at Lin Qiushi, whispering, "yo, not cool man, how come you didn't tell me you had such a pretty girlfriend?"

Lin Qiushi answered a vague: "…mh."

"Oh she's stunning," Gu Longming said with a sigh. "If I had a girlfriend like that I'd want to stick around her every day too."

As he spoke, he looked to Lin Qiushi with an expression that was both envy and admiration.

Lin Qiushi watched him back and wondered how he would react if he knew Ruan Nanzhu was drag queen. Of course, it wasn't something he could tell Gu Longming now. Gu Longming was not yet part of Obsidian, and the fact that Ruan Nanzhu wore drag was Obsidian's biggest most vital secret…

After Ruan Nanzhu got changed, he came back inside.

"What are you two talking about?"

"Nothing," Lin Qiushi answered in brief. "He said you were pretty."

Ruan Nanzhu replied with a meaningful oh.

Gu Longming: "…" Why did a chill suddenly go down his back?

The beds on the ship all emanated a damp smell—very uncomfortable for the people lying on top. At this point, the waves and wind were getting bigger, and even the sleeping quarters were beginning to rock. Lin Qiushi remembered that ridiculously seasick, endlessly vomiting pal of theirs from earlier and thought that that guy was pretty much done for.

The sky outside gradually darkened in entirety, leaving only the bellowing winds and the sound of waves beating against each other. With his eyes shut, Lin Qiushi grew drowsy—but before he could fall asleep, he was woken by a sudden crack of thunder. It was like lightning had struck right above their heads. With the loud boom, all three of them awoke in an instant.

After that, it was the pattering pour of rain. The rushing rain and the howling wind—they seemed on the verge of destroying everything.

Their quarters rocked even harder. Lin Qiushi sat up in his bed.

Through the window, he looked to the black evening outside. He saw, however, two illuminated lights. It seemed like the only light sources on deck were kerosene lamps, but how did these lamps stay so bright in the middle of a thunderstorm…? Just as Lin Qiushi wondered this, he suddenly felt that there was something off about those two lights, and Ruan Nanzhu, sitting behind him, spoke up quietly:

"Don't look anymore."

Lin Qiushi, "hm?"

"Those aren't lights," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Those are eyes."

A pair of yellow, inhuman eyes. The owner of the eyes spied through the darkness with malicious intent, as if a beast looking for its prey.

Lin Qiushi instantly looked away, and asked, "what is that thing?"

"I don't know, I can't tell," Ruan Nanzhu said. "The shape is humanoid, but it doesn't seem to be human."

Lin Qiushi's brows lightly furrowed, but by the time he looked out the window once more, the eyes were gone.

Thunder rumbled on and on, and that stench of ocean salt grew thicker and more cloying.

Ruan Nanzhu climbed into Lin Qiushi's bed, and holding each other, the two very quickly returned to sleep. However, the only bachelor present Gu Longming didn't have such luck. Lying beside Lin Qiushi, he stared with plaintive eyes, thinking that in the following days, he'd be fed enough dog food to bloat.

The rainstorm lasted until dawn, and though the rain let up, the weather did not turn any sunnier. Black storm clouds still hovered over the ship, and when the alarm rang, Lin Qiushi actually thought it was not yet morning. He checked the time, however, and saw that it was 8AM. It was just still dark outside.

"Good morning," Ruan Nanzhu greeted Lin Qiushi.

"Good morning. It's so dark outside today."

"It's probably going to keep raining," Ruan Nanzhu said. He walked out onto deck with Lin Qiushi and watched the black waters roil underneath the ship.

Looking up, they couldn't see any land, only the endless swath of sea. Only the old ship beneath their feet felt like any sort of reality.

This sort of isolating environment was easily taxing on the psyche. Even for Lin Qiushi, the scene before them was discomforting.

"Come on, let's go get breakfast," Gu Longming called to the two.

"He's pretty thick-skinned," Ruan Nanzhu commented after hearing Gu Longming's call.

"Yeah," Lin Qiushi said. "His nerves are petty good."

Inside the doors, you didn't have to be too smart, but you definitely had to be brave enough. Before terrifying situations, fright could make a person abandon a large part of their cognitive abilities. The smartest person could lack a strong heart and still do worse inside the door than the obtuse, oblivious Cheng Qianli.

The three went to the dining area and found there an atmosphere that could very well be called lifeless.

Lin Qiushi didn't know why at first. After he saw the menu, however, he couldn't help but also feel a touch of depression.

All the ship offered was fish. And it wasn't even fresh fish—Gu Longming poked at a dead-eyed staring head with his chopsticks and said, "is this thing even edible?"

It was disgusting just to look at.

"It looks gross," Lin Qiushi said. "Try a bit?"

Gu Longming took a bit of meat from the gills and gave it a taste. His expression twisted.

"Fuck, did they deduct the food budget for this door or what? It's disgusting. It's like they’ve had it outside for three days. You try it?"

Lin Qiushi, "oh no, no thank you."

Gu Longming: "…"

The breakfast served in the dining room was, for the most part, stale fish. Aside from that there was only flavorless noddles and peas. The environment had already been vicious enough, but the food in front of them now was salt on top of the wound.

But Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu didn't care at all. After seeing the inedible breakfast they snuck back to their room and fetched from their bags the food they'd prepared.

Gu Longming watched as they pulled out a bottle of chili sauce, eyes bulging out.

"You guys even brought Lao Gan Ma? Did you come here to picnic?"

"Want some?" Lin Qiushi drizzled the Lao Gan Ma over some noodles they'd brought out of the dining hall.

"Yeah yeah yeah. More please." Gu Longming's expression was shameless.

With breakfast finally done, they got ready to search the ship.

There were a total of three decks in the ship, constructed a bit like the sailing vessels of the great nautical era of the Middle Ages. It was extremely old, was all, covered in the marks and traces of times past.

Beside that NPC, they didn't see any other crew members on deck; there was likely only the one NPC on the entire ship. Wait for the ship's return was the mission the NPC left for them this time, but Lin Qiushi had thorough reason to believe that if they couldn't find the door in ten day's time, this voyage of theirs would cycle back and repeat—and they'd experience the ten days all over again.

When Lin Qiushi climbed onto the second deck, he heard a sort of thumping sound, and was uncertain if Ruan Nanzhu and Gu Longming had heard it as well. So he asked, "did you guys hear that?"

"What?" Gu Longming didn't seem to have heard.

Ruan Nanzhu said, "I think I did, but not very clearly."

"I think it came from the corner…" Lin Qiushi followed the sound forward. "Let's go see."

But before they could get close, Lin Qiushi was hit with a thick, fishy stench. It was disgusting and nauseating to smell; fortunately Cheng Yixie wasn't here, or he might have passed out immediately upon smelling it.

The source of the sound and smell was the same room, and they were close enough now that both Gu Longming and Ruan Nanzhu could hear the thumping noise as well.

The three of them slowed their steps, and through the window, looked into the room.

It was a kitchen with knives and other tools hanging inside. The most eye-catching thing, however, was the dense masses of dead fish hung up on hooks all over the sides.

A person in an apron stood in the center of the room with their back towards them and head down. They were chopping something. After some observation, Gu Longming almost gagged, and said, "don't tell me he's making our breakfast—"

Ruan Nanzhu was very calm.

"It's possible."

Gu Longming did gag. He'd even had a bite of that fish that morning.

Lin Qiushi gave Gu Longming a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

This person in the kitchen, however, was the second living NPC they'd found on the ship.

The three of them stood watching in the kitchen doorway for a while, and saw that besides chopping fish, this person didn't do much of anything else. And so they decided to go see elsewhere first.

Very soon, they discovered a more peculiar room. This room was locked, and curtains were drawn over the window. It was quiet inside, but they could still smell that thick waft of stale fish. Lin Qiushi initially thought the smell had clung to them from the kitchen, but after a careful sniff, found that it was coming from inside the room.

"Do we go in?" Gu Longming was pressed against the window trying to look in, but he could see nothing.

Ruan Nanzhu gave this some thought, before saying, "let's try," and getting out a hairpin to pick the lock.

Watching his adept motions, Gu Longming's eyes widened. Then Gu Longming glanced at Lin Qiushi.

"Is this…is this a basic skillset that y'all come with?"

Lin Qiushi grinned as he joked, "yeah. You have to learn to pick locks if you want to join us."

As he said this, there was a click. Ruan Nanzhu really got the lock open. But oddly enough, after he unlocked the door and gave it a push, he found that though the door lock was undone, there was another lock hanging on the inside. The chain on that lock held the door closed, and they could at most manage a crack—it couldn't be opened at all.

"Wait," Lin Qiushi suddenly said, stopping Ruan Nanzhu from going up and pushing the door. "Stop for a second. There's movement inside."

Ruan Nanzhu halted, and just as he stopped mid-step, a hand, sharp-nailed and covered in scales, reached out of the door. And through that crack in the door, a pair of yellow eyes looked out, peering at the world outside with malicious intent.

Translator’s Note:

The name of the ship could more simply be translated as “Black Reef,” but “Black Skerry” sounds more like a ship name? Let me know if you think otherwise (or know if it’s a specific reference to something).

Lao Gan Ma is a brand of **hot sauce (edited: 7/26), as you can probably tell from context. The original next never uses “hot sauce” though, and just call it Lao Gan Ma in both the prose and the dialogue.

[Ch. 119] | [Ch. 121]

#kaleidoscope of death #xi zixu #cnovel #chinese translation #死亡萬花筒 #NEW ARC #i like ships where the people take on characteristics they like about each other #and this is the peak 'rnz is a horrible influence on lqs' arc #but also rnz is a great influence on lqs #honeymoon door baby

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 3 years

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I might be back on my bullshit thinking about Louis [as if I ever stopped] and episode 2 again. Like... there are a lot of things that could’ve been handled better when it comes to ep2, but can we just appreciate his apology to Clementine during the archery scene?

[note: this turned into a bit of a rant, and for that, I apologize]

It still baffles me that he gets dismissed as a shitbird by portions of the fandom to this day for being upset with Clem and AJ when he just found out his best friend gave away the twins, murdered Brody and tried to pin it on Clementine to cover his tracks... only to then be murdered by AJ after he already gave up, shot him in the back of the head right in front of everyone and left Louis heartbroken and traumatized.

Like I understand that some of y’all think Clementine and AJ should never be held accountable for anything they do and they’re always right, even when they’re in the wrong because you’re the player projecting yourself onto them and everyone who is mean to you is a stupid head unless they’re mean in the right way.

Or you’re one of those violentine stans who feels like the only way to validate your ship is to create this narrative that Louis is a traitor and Clementine would never love him after he voted for them to leave as if the only way you know how to make Violet look good is to make Louis bad by comparison instead of like... y’know, being one of the decent stans who explain and gush about the positives of the ship itself and why they love it rather obsessing over the other ship.

Either way, you’re really gonna look at that situation of Louis reacting to his best friend’s death after what just went down and be like “calm down, Louis, you’re being a jerk :/” like.... I’m sorry?

Aren’t you the same people who complained about Luke not giving a shit about Nick’s death back in s2? how he didn’t have a reaction? In fact, aren’t you also the same people who vigorously defended Kenny for his reaction to Sarita’s death after he lashed out at Clementine? Remember? When he yelled at her and called her a stupid fucking kid who thinks she can just get anyone killed and it’s okay because she said sorry? but it’s fine because Kenny’s reacting in a realistic way that makes sense for his character and he later apologizes for it?

but now here you are, getting a realistic reaction out of Louis that makes sense with his character and all of a sudden, you don’t like it? You want him to just be like “Oh no, Marlon.... anyway.” Really?

Louis is hurt, he’s pissed and he doesn’t know what to do. He’s so shaken by what the hell just happened, Marlon’s dead body is bleeding out on the ground, Ruby’s talking about getting fucking medicine as if that’s gonna do anything, Violet waving her cleaver around at them even though literally none of them were looking at AJ they were all looking at Clementine, Violet you are not helping anyone in this situation, you’re only making it worse and adding to the aggression... but no, Louis shouldn’t be a fucking mess right now. He should just shrug his shoulders and be like “Welp, this is fine.”

Then there’s the damn funeral. Look, Clementine and AJ shouldn’t have been there. I know they had to be for story purposes, but it’s such a bad idea that it makes Violet, the one who wanted them there, look like an ass who has no regard for anyone other than herself, Clementine and AJ, and those who agree with her... which is only Tenn and I guess everyone else sucks and their feelings are invalid because no one else wanted them there since it’s not a good idea to have Marlon’s murderer attend his funeral and if you believe that isn’t going to piss people off or make them uncomfortable, then either you don’t care or you don’t know how to read a room.

And by the way, Louis wasn’t the one who suggested voting them out. He wasn’t even there when MITCH said they should take a vote and everyone agreed to it. So why is it that Louis gets all this blame for how the vote turned out? Oh, Louis is such a traitor because he’s the reason they got kicked out.... except no?

First of all, if you’re so mad at Louis then how come you’re not mad at Ruby? She voted them out, too. So did Omar. They contributed to kicking them out. How come no one else talks about how much they hate them after they said having the vote was a fair idea and then voted them out? Oh, and Willy, too. Willy voted them out. The only other person who gets heat for the vote is Mitch, and he was the one who came up with the idea in the first place... but no one else, huh?

Also, how come only Violet gets praise for wanting Clementine and AJ to stay? Never see anyone talk about how amazing Aasim is after he was the third vote for them. He has legit reasons for wanting them around, too, but he didn’t want them at the funeral either so what, does that cancel out his vote for you? Where is the Aasim love?

Then we got the dorms where Louis and Violet come to escort them away, and once again, I have to mention that both of them are wrong in this situation. They’re on the extreme opposites where Violet thinks they should stay because they didn’t do anything wrong, and Louis thinks they should leave because AJ’s dangerous. Both of these view points make sense with their characters.

However, I guess some conveniently ignore how conflicted Louis is about the whole thing and how he’s feeling about it because it doesn’t fit with the narrative they’re trying to push about his character.

Again, he’s dealing with a lot of shit right now only to be constantly invalidated by Violet, who keeps telling him what a shithead he is for hurting about this, how he’s just burying his head in the sand again and all this other shit, and he eventually snaps at her and says AJ’s dangerous, which hurts AJ and it’s all over Louis’ face that he realizes he snapped and he feels bad about it.

But Louis never got aggressive with them, he never laid a hand on them, and he was there to escort them out in the woods. And that argument of “he sent them out there to die therefore Clementine and AJ should hate him, Clem shouldn’t want any friendly/romantic relationship with him because he put AJ at risk and got him shot” is.... I dunno, ugh? It’s ugh. You act like Louis did this to intentionally get them hurt when that’s not true.

Clementine and AJ have survived on their own for years, so it makes sense that Louis would try to justify this to himself like “they’ll make it out there, they’ll survive because they’ve done this before... this is for the best for everyone” and no, him telling them that this is probably like going home for them isn’t okay, but it makes sense for his character because he doesn’t actually know how bad it is out there.

None of them know, they’ve all lived in walls their whole lives. It’s naïve of him, yes, but it makes sense and he didn’t do this with shitty intentions of wanting them to get hurt. He didn’t know that Lilly and Abel would be out there, he didn’t know AJ would get shot, he didn’t know any of it. He didn’t think that if they voted them out, this would happen. He was struggling with his feelings about them and saying goodbye to someone he was starting to feel a connection with.

And he let them back in. Hell, he carried AJ into the school himself when they showed up wounded and you still wanna call him an asshole and a traitor? He could’ve said nope, get the hell out. We kicked you out, you’re not welcome here.

He didn’t do that, he ran to them to see if they’re okay, he brought AJ to Ruby and stayed with him the entire time Clem was in the office with Violet.... AND he apologized to AJ, quietly begging for him to be okay... and when he’s faced with Clementine after what happened, he doesn’t know what to say to her. He can’t even look at her because he feels so ashamed of himself and feels all the blame for this.

This is a moment that ties back to backstory. Louis’ emotions overpowered him, he made a decision and now AJ is shot and bleeding on the couch.... when he came to the school, they [the staff, I assume] said these kids were bad people, they told Louis that he was bad after what he did to his parents and he internalized that, and this whole this just reaffirms that idea “I am bad, I hurt people, this is my fault.” He blames himself for everything even though there’s no way he could’ve known. You can feel Louis’ genuine concern for AJ and how he’s doing, but at the same time, he’s trying to distance himself from Clementine… and well, sorta failing since he brings her clothes and they have the conversation in the dorms.

Then the archery scene.... y’know, the scene I was gonna make a simple little post about that somehow turned into this.

Once again we have Louis and Violet arguing because that’s what they do now, and Violet continues to tell him to get over himself without listening to anything he says, and he goes to practice archery so that y’know... when the raiders come he can use a weapon to help defend them since he’s not very good with it and needs practice.

Clem goes to check on him, and Louis apologizes for voting them out, explains that when AJ shot Marlon, he blamed Clementine when that wasn’t the right thing to do. He had a lot going on emotionally on top of what was happening around him, but after having two weeks to work through things alone, even though he’ll never be happy Marlon died, he can understand why AJ thought it was the right thing to do... and if he could take everything back, he would. He knew that the moment they came back, and he still does.

I just.... how often does Clementine ever get an actual apology from anyone who has hurt her? A real apology from someone who means it and then doesn’t just turn around and repeat the same hurtful actions? Like... it baffles me that people will look at this genuine apology and tell him to fuck off, but will accept and continue to adore someone like Kenny who will apologize for hurting Clem, only to never try to be better and ends up hurting her even more next time.

Or they’ll accept and justify Violet’s last minute apology for punching Clementine in the face on the boat and putting everyone [including AJ, rememeber?] at risk of either dying or being made into brainwashed soldiers by the delta.

They both have reasons for their behaviors and you’ll work your ass off to justify them, and I’m not saying your points are wrong or invalid, but you seriously won’t even try to extend that same thing to Louis? Why?

Well, jokes on you because I too will work my ass of to talk about Louis and what he’s going through and that’s how posts like this get made. I know not everyone is going to feel that connection to him that I have, and you’re allowed to not like him as a character, but realize that I’m also allowed to give my perspective on his character and why I disagree with points posed by those who don’t like him.

The archery scene is one of my favorites. It’s Louis and Clementine proving that they’re able to open up to one another and say they’re sorry, to forgive the other without being petty or holding it over the other to throw back at them the next time they argue. It proves that Louis wants to put in the effort to repair their relationship and atone for the mistakes he made, to step up and not be “bad” anymore.

I mean, Louis says it best himself. Everyone heard the jokes and the piano, after that, they stop listening... a lot of people just boil him down to a funny man who never takes anything seriously and the only thing he could ever bring to Clementine’s life is a good laugh, but those who stuck with him and put an effort into building his and Clementine’s relationship know better than that. They know how much this apology in ep2 means even with the downer that the timeline of events rushes everything a bit.

The fact that Louis doesn’t have this big ego that prevents him from apologizes, that he can forgive AJ for what he did and still build a strong relationship with both him and Clementine, that if you earn his trust he will follow you to hell and back, that he isn’t afraid to call Clementine out on her bullshit and doesn’t have a come apart when she does the same to him, that with her and AJ by his side he finally doesn’t feel alone anymore.... it’s all just so fucking good.

I dunno, maybe you can understand why I get so ugh whenever I still see these same arguments about him being made with this double standard that doesn’t apply to other characters.

#twdg louis #twdg clementine #twdg aj #twdg marlon #twdg violet #twdg aasim #twdg ruby #twdg willy #twdg mitch #twdg omar #twdg tenn #twdg brody #twdg clouis

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tchallasbabymama · 3 years

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Troubled Waters Chapter Four

Hey, yall! Here’s the next chapter of Nia and T’Challa’s journey. I’m super proud of this one (I’m proud of all my work, but still.) With the help of @wordsfromthelivingghost being a bomb ass beta reader, I think this is some of my best work yet. And I’m only gonna get better!

Check out my masterlist to read my other stories (and catch up on this one if you’re new here.) I love when y’all talk to me and share my work so others can discover it, so hit those comment and reblog buttons. Also, be sure to let me know if you want to be tagged in anything. Enjoy!😘

Word count: 8,894

CW: A little blood and cutting but NOT for self-harm reasons. If it bothers you, skip the second half of the scene at Kokou’s temple.

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Nia pressed her cheek to the window, careful not to smudge the thin line of white clay painted down the center of her face. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth hung slightly open as she watched Wakanda zoom by from hundreds of feet in the air. She had always loved seeing what the world looked like from above, but it had been years since she last got to enjoy the view. When she was young, Amare would carry her in his arms as he flew high above the ground to give her a taste of what she so desperately wanted: to feel the wind beneath her nonexistent wings.

T’Challa half-watched Nia from his seat off to the side of the cabin as he flipped through news articles on his kimoyo beads. As they flew over a statue of Bast in her full panther form, he could tell the bright blue light radiating from the tunnel beneath the goddess intrigued her. Her head tilted slightly to the left, and he turned off his beads right as she turned around with a question on her lips.

“That’s Mt. Bashenga,” T’Challa answered prematurely as he stood and made his way over to the window, looking out at his kingdom as Okoye steered the Royal Talon over the Mining province.

“Why’s it glowing?”

“Vibranium.”

“Ohhh.” Nia thought back to the human history books she read as a child that told their story of the founding of Wakanda. Obviously, they had censored the part about aziza, but she still found their revisionist history fascinating. “That’s where the meteorite landed, right?”

T’Challa nodded, impressed by her knowledge.

“Ubaba always said vibranium was ‘the humans’ magic’,” she whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

T’Challa was mildly shocked. He had never considered it that way, but he supposed it was sort of otherworldly what they were able to do with the substance. In comparison to other humans, anyway.

Okoye kept her focus on flying the ship, but T’Challa couldn’t help but spot the slight glow that emanated from Nia’s skin while she ogled the scenery. The king reflected on the description of aziza he had read the day before and remembered that it mentioned their luminous skin. He had noticed that even when she was standoffish towards him, she seemed to radiate light from the inside out, but seeing her literally light up in excitement brought him joy.

When Birnin Zana came into view, Nia’s eyes curiously trailed along the tributaries that moseyed through the metropolis and she was reminded of the magic realm’s big city, Birnin Umlingo. She smiled fondly at how similar they were despite the fact that Birnin Zana was so much bigger. It was nestled between rolling hills and sharp cliffsides, and she was pleasantly surprised to see all the lush greenery dispersed throughout the city. There were small parks everywhere and most of the roofs were topped with well-kept gardens. The skyscrapers and apartment buildings stretched to the sky like the trees that lined the streets, but Nia was almost blinded when the sun bounced off of an impressive structure in the middle of the city. Two almost conical, shining towers spiraled up from an ancient foundation that swirled around the base like the flowing tributary that surrounded most of it like a moat. The towers were connected by a long bridge about a third of the way up and despite her amazement, Nia couldn’t help but wonder why they had to build two towers instead of just one.

“Bast, is that the palace?” She pointed up ahead.

T’Challa smirked proudly. He never tired of seeing the dual vibranium spires that towered over even the tallest skyscrapers throughout the city.

“It is,” he said proudly.

“It’s so big,” she whispered, then turned to look at him. “Does it ever feel empty?”

He furrowed his brows, making a little crease appear between them that Nia found endearing. “How do you mean?”

“Well, it’s just you and your family that live there, right?”

The king nodded.

“Then why do you need so much space? And why two instead of just one? It seems so unnecessary.”

Okoye bit the inside of her lip to keep from snickering at Nia’s sincere inquiries. She wasn’t too keen on Nia and wasn’t quite sure why she was there, but she had worked for T’Challa long enough to know he didn’t like people questioning him.

“I don’t- it’s not just...look.” He pointed back out the window to distract her, and Nia whipped her head around to watch their descent to the landing pad in front of the palace.

The three of them exited the Talon, but instead of entering T’Challa’s gratuitously large home, they made a left and walked through the palace gates and into the bustling streets of Birnin Zana. Nia had been to the big city before when she was young, but it seemed like it had exploded over the last couple of decades. It had always been a busy hub of commerce for the Merchant tribe, but business owners from the other tribes had moved there in droves over the past few years to get a piece of the pie.

The three of them passed through the financial district with ease. Nia kept her neck craned to look up at the tall banks, corporate offices, and massive parking garages filled with hovercars. In the distance, she saw an arena and she wondered what took place there. Did they have many concerts? Sporting events? She made a mental note to ask about that later and continued to take in her surroundings. The maglev trains zooming by high above the street caught her attention, and her eyes widened. She had never been on a train before.

They eventually made it to Three Step Town, the cultural hub of the city and Nia looked on in awe at the various businesses that surrounded them. Once again, she was reminded of Birnin Umlingo as she looked around at the diversity that surrounded her. Most of the older folks were dressed in the traditional clothing of their tribes, but the younger Wakandans seemed to prefer a more modern look. They really were a spectacle. Some people had brightly colored manes and shining vibranium tattoos that decorated their skin, and the sight had Nia’s wheels turning. She had never really experimented much with her look, but they were giving her the inspiration to try something different.

Just as Nia began to ponder what body modification would look good on her, she felt someone grab her and yank her to the side of the street. She began to protest right as a streetcar full of people rolled by. Nia turned to thank her savior, smiling sheepishly when she realized it was Okoye.

“Watch where you’re going,” the general warned harshly and let go of Nia’s arm. The two of them joined T’Challa as he spoke to a snaggletoothed young boy who had proudly shown him the Black Panther action figure that he carried everywhere. The boy’s parents thanked the king for being so polite before they said goodbye and went on their way. Nia’s heart warmed a little at seeing T’Challa be so kind to them. He could have easily ignored the family or had Okoye intervene, but he seemed to enjoy interacting with his people. As the three of them continued on their journey, a small smile pushed up the corners of Nia’s mouth knowing he wasn’t as arrogant as she assumed.

Nia was almost overwhelmed by the many shops they passed by. She could buy anything she wanted: jewelry, instruments, furniture, hats. It seemed like they had everything. However, she came to a halt when they walked by a store with colorful, hand-woven baskets hanging out front. The old lady that ran the shop noticed Nia staring and came forward to help her pick one out, but paused when she saw that the king was standing beside her. She saluted him fondly and turned to face his companion.

“Excuse me, how much for this one?” Nia asked the shopkeep as her fingers ran over the intricate patterns along the sides of a mid-sized sweetgrass basket.

“For you it is free,” the older woman said through a bright smile that crinkled her eyes. Before Nia could protest, she had already taken it down and pushed it into her arms.

“Are you sure? I can pay-”

“Just tell people where you got it,” the woman winked before going back inside to help a customer that was ready to check out.

Nia couldn’t believe how kind the woman had been to give her the gift, but her amazement was cut short by T’Challa leaning in close and ruining the moment.

“Just one of the perks of traveling with the king,” he teased.

Nia rolled her eyes and stepped away from him, continuing down the street with her basket swinging in the crook of her elbow. She had been so caught up in her surroundings that she hadn’t noticed the stares from passersby and began to get a little self-conscious. A few people even snapped a picture or two of the king and his elusive friend, some of which would surely end up on gossip blogs by the end of the day.

Her nervousness was short-lived and quickly got replaced with longing when they turned the corner and walked right through the food district. Not only did the colorful produce stands call to her, but the smells of curries and grilled meats continuously pulled her attention from left to right. However, when a deliciously sweet aroma tickled her nose, she stopped dead in the middle of the road.

“Where is that coming from?” Nia sniffed the air and veered off the main street as she followed the scent to a man that was serving up deep-fried sweet plantain on a stick, drizzled with chocolate. T’Challa kept a close eye on Nia but stayed back and let her wander up to the dessert cart alone. He watched as she engaged the man in conversation and saw her come alive when she tasted the sample he provided her. A small smile crept up the king’s face, but his amusement was cut short by Okoye clearing her throat next to him.

“My king,” she started, and he turned slightly in her direction, nodding for her to continue as he kept his eyes on Nia. “If I may...what exactly is her purpose here with us?”

“Nia is a devotee of Bast, and I believe she may be helpful in our attempts to understand what has happened to her,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Okoye sensed his unwillingness to go further into detail and grew quiet again as Nia damn near skipped back over to them with her hands full.

“Here you go,” Nia sang as she held out two of the desserts for them to take. “He saw I was with the king and gave me three for free!”

Neither of them was hungry, but they just couldn’t say no to her big, childlike eyes.

“Thank you,” T’Challa waved to the man behind the counter and took a bite of the dessert, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. “Mmm”

“See? It’s amazing,” Nia said with a mouth full of plantain. Even Okoye had to agree.

The three of them ate their midmorning snack as they strolled through the streets, eventually making their way to a much quieter section on the outskirts of the busy city center. Just as Nia finished licking the last bit of chocolate from the wooden stick, she came face to face with an ancient-looking stone building that didn’t quite fit the vibe of the modern neighborhood. Her eyes zeroed in on the large statue at the entrance. It was a being with the body of a man and the head of an ibis holding a scroll in one hand and a staff in the other.

“Welcome to the flagship branch of the Wakandan Public Library,” T’Challa said proudly.

While Nia loved a good library, she was a little confused about why they were there. “I thought we were going to a temple.”

T’Challa wiggled his eyebrows as he stepped past her, climbing the steps with Okoye in tow, “This is the temple.”

Nia’s curiosity got the best of her, and she followed behind the king and his general. They threw their sticks away in the trash cans outside of the doors that swished open as they approached. Nia hadn’t expected the building to have such modern technologies based on the look of it, but she surmised the library would have a few more surprises up its sleeves.

“Kumkani wam!”

All three of their heads turned towards the woman behind the large marble desk as she scrambled to salute the king, dropping the small stack of books from her arms. T’Challa quickly rounded the desk and smiled at her as he crouched down to pick the books off of the floor. Before she could stoop down to help him, he had already placed them neatly on the desk.

“T-thank you, my king,” the woman stammered and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Never in her life had she imagined she would be so close to royalty, much less her biggest crush. “What can I do for you?”

“Well…” he started, trailing off to get her name.

“Fatima, sir.”

“What a beautiful name,” he flirted innocently and leaned on the cool marble as Nia and Okoye both fought their eyes from rolling to the ceiling. Okoye was used to his flirtatious manner making women swoon at his feet, but it still irked her to no end. They had a job to do, and he was wasting time. Nia, however, felt the tiniest tinge of something deep in her gut as she watched him make eyes at the beautiful librarian. She waved it off as annoyance since she still wasn’t the king’s biggest fan. Adding “womanizer” to her list of reasons not to like him certainly tipped the scales further away from him, balancing out his actions from earlier.

Fatima giggled as she struggled to make eye contact with the handsome king, “Thank you, your highness.”

“Please, call me T’Challa,” he implored, resting his hand over his heart and flashing his irresistible smile.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t do that-”

“I insist.”

Okoye cleared her throat, and T’Challa’s eyes reluctantly shot in her direction.

“Anyway, Fatima, we were wondering if Abdu is in today,” T’Challa continued as he straightened up and stood to his full height, making Fatima swoon even more in his presence. Her eyes wandered down to his chest, but she snapped out of it and attempted to look him in the eye. Her knees nearly buckled under the intensity of his gaze, but she stood firm.

“Y-yes, he is, my ki-”

T’Challa reprimanded her with a simple raise of his right eyebrow, and she quickly corrected herself.

“I mean, T’Challa,” Fatima giggled once more. “I’ll go get him for you.”

“Thank you, Fatima,” he smiled down at her, watching as she walked away with a pep in her step and her hips twitching just a little more than usual.

Fatima disappeared behind a green velvet curtain, and when they were sure she was out of earshot, Nia and Okoye both turned to look at the king. They wore matching expressions of disapproval, but, for some reason, it stung to see on Nia’s face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her.

“Must you flirt with every woman you see?” Okoye butted in, clearly exasperated by his antics.

Nia’s eyebrows jumped as a teasing smirk settled on her lips. “Oh, so this is a common occurrence?”

“You wouldn’t believe how many-”

“General,” T’Challa warned, and Okoye stopped talking.

Nia tried to contain a laugh, but it came out more like a snort than she intended. Just as T’Challa opened his mouth to make fun of her, Fatima appeared from behind the curtain with a heavy-set man with tortoiseshell glasses just a few steps behind her.

“T’Challa, my boy! Oh, excuse me, my king.” The man bowed sarcastically and crossed his arms in a salute. T’Challa waved him off with a smile and a click of his tongue, and the two men embraced each other. Nia had noticed T’Challa wasn’t really one to demand formalities, but the man’s familiarity with the king intrigued her.

“Abdu, how have you been?”

It had been several months since T’Challa last visited the library. Abdu had worked and worshipped there for decades and had watched the king grow into the man before him. Some of T’Challa’s fondest childhood memories consisted of him spending hours curled up in the stacks, flipping through whatever book caught his eye that day. Abdu would bring him story after story for him to get lost in, and the older man never tired of T’Challa’s curiosity. No matter how many questions he threw at him.

“Getting old, but I can’t complain,” the much shorter man said as they pulled apart. He looked around T’Challa and noticed his company. “Okoye, a pleasure to see you as always.”

“You as well, Abdu,” she smiled.

“And who might this lovely creature be?” Abdu asked as his gaze fell on Nia. She bristled at his choice of words but said nothing. Even as a child, she had always been sensitive to the word “creature” and felt it offensive to refer to non-humans as such. She knew he had no idea about her bloodline, though, and since he meant no harm she simply ignored the terminology.

“Nia Olu, sir,” she introduced herself with a nod of her head, and he returned the gesture.

“Ah, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. And what is it that you do, Nia Olu?”

“I am a healer and a devotee of Bast.”

“A devotee, huh? Well, I think we will get along nicely,” he smiled warmly at her before turning back to the king. “What can I do for you all today?”

“Well, actually, Nia is a big part of why we’re here,” T’Challa began. “It seems Bast has gone missing. Neither of us has been able to contact her as of late.”

“Are you a priestess?” Abdu asked Nia, confused as to why a simple devotee would be partnered with the king for such a task. Okoye felt vindicated by his questioning but stayed quiet.

“No, sir.”

“Then, I must say, I’m a little confused on how you would have a direct connection to her-”

“She is highly favored in the goddess’ eyes,” T’Challa cut in, hoping his vague answer would be enough to dissuade Abdu from asking too many questions. He knew it wouldn’t be easy to hide anything from a priest of the god of wisdom, but he also knew he couldn’t give away Nia’s full identity. “We were wondering if maybe you could see if Thoth knows where she is or why she isn’t answering.”

Abdu could tell there was something else to the story, but decided not to press the subject. He figured that if the king felt it was important enough to keep from him, then he had to trust his judgment.

The priest nodded and motioned for the three of them to follow him. T’Challa winked at Fatima before falling in step with Abdu, and once again, Nia’s and Okoye’s eyes struggled to remain straight ahead as they followed behind the two men.

Nia couldn’t help but stare in awe at the rows and rows of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves they passed as they walked through the centuries-old library. She imagined herself spending hours combing through the texts and soaking up whatever knowledge held, just like she did with the many books Amare provided her with as a child. Her daydreaming was cut short when they passed through the children’s section, and she noticed a display of picture books, one of which caught her eye. There, on the cover, was a colorful illustration of an aziza sitting in a tree, watching over a group of children as they played in the grass below him.

Before she knew it, Nia had grabbed the book and started flipping through the pages, scanning the words and pictures for any sign of historical truth. She found none, but her hope didn’t die out. Maybe, just maybe the library held onto more of the past than the Wakandans realized. She knew magical creatures were relegated to folktales, but she began to wonder how many of those tales were historically accurate, if any. She hadn’t noticed that the others had stopped and were watching her tear through the book like it held the secrets to the universe.

“You like that one? It’s a fairly new release. Very popular with the children,” Abdu said, but his words fell on deaf ears.

“Nia?” the king called out to her.

She jumped and dropped the book, but T’Challa caught it before it could hit the ground.

“Yeah? Sorry, I just…” Nia trailed off, unsure of what to say. All three of them looked at her curiously, but when T’Challa’s eyes graced the cover, he understood why she had been called to it. “Are there many stories like this?”

“Of aziza?” Abdu asked for clarification, and Nia nodded. “Sure! Kids love fantastical creatures. You know, some of them even swear up and down that they’ve seen them in real life.”

T’Challa and Nia shared a quick glance as he set the book back where she found it. Of course, Okoye caught their quick exchange.

“Such wild imaginations,” Nia murmured, and the group continued on their trek. She was quiet for a moment as she tried to figure out the best way to word her next question when she decided to just go for it. “Abdu, is there any mention of, um, species that are no longer around in any of these books?”

T’Challa looked at her knowingly out of the corner of his eye. He knew what she was getting at, and he was curious about Abdu’s answer. After seeing Nia’s book the day before, his mind had begun to wonder about ancient Wakandan texts. She had told him that they coexisted long ago, so there had to be some evidence hidden deep in the bowels of the library. If there was proof anywhere, it was here.

“Of course!” Abdu said excitedly and pointed to the far left wall. “Species naturally go extinct all the time. If that interests you, check out our history section over there.”

Nia and T’Challa both cataloged that information for later and started mentally planning their next visits.

The deeper they traveled into the vast library, a tingling grew in Nia’s stomach. There was great power there, and she could feel it. The tingling intensified as they arrived at a large door with an image of Thoth that had been hand-carved by artisans long ago.

“We’ll take it from here, Okoye,” T’Challa ordered, and the general nodded before standing at attention with her back to the door. Then, his eyes fell to Nia. “Ready?”

“I think…”

“That’ll serve you well here,” Abdu joked as he pushed open the heavy door.

Nia wasn’t quite sure what she was expecting to see, but a winding staircase certainly wasn’t on her list of possibilities. The three of them quietly descended the steps, and all that could be heard was the sounds of their sandals connecting with the stone as they went. After what seemed like forever, Abdu came to a halt at another large door and turned to face his visitors.

“You must enter with pure intentions and a cool head, or he will not answer. Understood?”

Nia and T’Challa answered in unison.

“Yes, sir.”

“Of course.”

“Good,” Abdu smiled at them and reached for the handle, pushing it open and revealing what looked to be a private study. The lamps along the stone walls lit up when they entered, and Nia was once again amazed at how the ancient seemed to flawlessly combine with the modern. As she looked around, she noticed that instead of books, there were scrolls stacked neatly on the shelves. A high-backed chair sat behind a large wooden desk with several scrolls strewn about it, and in the center of the room, there was a stone lectern that looked like it had been there since the dawn of time. Colorful pillows surrounded it on the floor, and next to it stood another statue of Thoth. This time, his hands were out and he was holding a staff that resembled the one from the statue out front, except this one was made of gold. This one was real, and it made the hairs on the back of Nia’s neck stand at attention.

Abdu made his way over to the closest shelf and grabbed a scroll from the top of the stack. He then crossed the room again and stood behind the lectern. When he unrolled the scroll, Nia and T’Challa were both surprised to find that it was blank. They watched with bated breath as he produced a shiny gold pen from his pocket and removed the staff from the statue’s arms.

“You two, come sit down,” Abdu said to them, pointing to the floor pillows.

They obeyed his order, and each grabbed a pillow. T’Challa sat cross-legged while Nia carefully placed her new basket on the floor and tucked her feet under her. They waited patiently while Abdu mumbled a prayer under his breath. Despite T’Challa’s enhanced hearing, he could barely make out what Abdu was saying, but the more he spoke, the colder the room became. The priest continued his prayers for several minutes until the staff began to glow with blinding orange light and his mouth snapped shut tight. A soft breeze blew through the room as his eyes glowed the same color as the staff, and the pen in his left hand started to frantically scribble words onto the formerly blank scroll. His hand moved faster than humanly possible, and Nia recognized what was happening as a possession. She bowed her head in the god’s presence and nudged T’Challa in his side to do the same. He followed suit, but neither of their eyes left Abdu, too curious to look away.

It seemed like forever had come and gone as the two sat in silence, watching in awe while Abdu filled the scroll as he channeled Thoth. The only sound that filled the air was the fast-moving pen on the papyrus and a faint humming from the staff, but suddenly, it all stopped. The staff’s light waned, and Abdu blinked his eyes back to their normal shade of hazel. He carefully placed the staff back in the statue’s hands and read over the words he had been given from his god. A frown appeared on the priest’s face, and Nia made eye contact with T’Challa. Neither one felt good news was coming.

“Well,” Abdu broke the tense silence, “to sum it up, it seems Thoth hasn’t seen or heard from Bast in several weeks. He says that’s very unlike her, as I’m sure you know, T’Challa.”

The king nodded. “Is there anything else? Did he say where she might be?”

“Oh, he said plenty, but not about your question. He can be quite long-winded at times,” Abdu murmured as he scanned the text once more to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. He then looked down at his two visitors with an apology in his eyes. “I wish I could’ve been of more help.”

T’Challa stood from his seated position and reached a hand out to Nia. She swatted it away and stood on her own, straightening out her long, flowing skirt before sending Abdu a warm smile. “Thank you for trying.”

“It was a pleasure, my dear.”

“So,” Nia turned to the king, “where to next?”

--------

The smile never left Okoye’s face as she landed the Talon in an open field and proudly led them to their next destination. They had traveled to Okoye’s hometown in the Mining province, and she nodded at her former neighbors as they waved to get her attention. It wasn’t often that she could return to Birnin Djata, but since she was on duty, she had to remain professional.

The town was much smaller than Birnin Zana, and the walk to the temple was much shorter this time around. A few moderately-sized dwellings lined the road to the temple, and Nia could see the town square in the distance. They passed groups of miners boarding and exiting the trains that took them to and from work, and Nia couldn’t help but wonder what all that vibranium looked like up close.

When they arrived at the temple, Nia was pleasantly surprised that this one actually looked like a place of worship. The wall that surrounded it looked as old as time, but the vibranium door in the center had to be no more than a hundred years old. A strange sound echoed from inside, and although Nia thought she recognized it, she was confused on why it was coming from a temple of all places.

“Is something wrong? What’s going on in there?” she asked with concern, making Okoye’s smile expand and her eyes light up.

“Sparring.”

Nia’s confusion grew, and she turned to T’Challa for clarification.

“Kokou is the god of war. Fighters often train here, and many of his followers go on to become great warriors. Including Okoye,” he explained.

“Ohhh, ok.”

Okoye led them up the temple’s steps, and Nia’s attention was drawn to the rows of fire that lined the walkway. As the party of three got closer to the doors, they slowly parted to grant them access. Loud shouts and grunts came from the right, and Okoye led them down the hallway, directly towards the noise.

Nia watched excitedly as the warriors-in-training sparred with one another. Fists connected with flesh, spears sliced through the air, and fighters seemed to glide across the padded floor. She recognized some of the fighting styles and thought back to her younger days when Amare took it upon himself to teach her some of the combat skills he had to learn for his days as a secret operative. Even though she was a healer, Nia sure was scrappy and could hold her own. It had been a while, though, and she was sure she had forgotten her training over the years.

A bell rang on the other side of the training room, and all of the fighting ceased. Okoye bowed her head in deference as a tall, muscular older woman in red emerged from an observation room and smiled softly in her direction.

“My king,” the woman saluted T’Challa, making all of the fighters whip their heads around and salute him as well. The woman crossed the floor as her trainees stood at attention, and grabbed Okoye’s hands in hers. “Okoye, my dear, it has been too long.”

“Priestess Yaa, how good to see you.”

“And my king, welcome to the Temple of Kokou.”

“Thank you, priestess.”

“What brings you here?” she asked before shooting a sly glance at Okoye. “You never come visit anymore, so I know it must be important.”

“My apologies for keeping her from you,” T’Challa interjected.

“None needed. I knew when Okoye became general that she would have little time for us anymore,” Yaa waved him off and smiled proudly at Okoye before her eyes fell to Nia. “And who is this?”

“Nia Olu,” she respectfully bowed her head.

“And you are a fighter too, no?”

“Um, not exactly. My father taught me how to fight when I was young, but I am a healer and a devotee of Bast.”

This was the first T’Challa had heard of her knowledge of combat, and he wondered what else he didn’t know about her.

“I’m sure it’s still in there somewhere. You have a warrior’s spirit.”

Nia was surprised by the priestess’ comment but thanked her nonetheless.

“Priestess Yaa, we have a problem that you might be able to help us solve,” the king stated.

Yaa nodded and called to her class, “Keep sparring. I’ll be back.”

The room came alive again, and Nia couldn’t help but watch the dozens of bodies moving about with powerful grace as they fought.

Yaa gestured for them to follow her, and she led them around a corner to get away from all the noise. “How can I help you, my king?”

“Bast is missing, and we would like to ask Kokou if he knows where she is,” he cut straight to the point, and Yaa appreciated his brevity.

She gestured again, and the four of them relocated to the other side of the temple. They entered a large, empty room with nothing except a wall of ancient weapons and a huge, raging fire pit in the center.

“This eternal flame was gifted to us by Kokou many millennia ago as a way of contacting him,” Yaa narrated. “In order for him to answer, you will each have to give a sacrifice.”

“I didn’t bring anything to-”

“Blood, dear. You sacrifice blood. He is the god of war, after all,” Yaa chuckled as she glided over to the wall of weapons. Her fingers danced along the flat side of the blade of a vibranium dagger with a red and gold hilt before wrapping her hand firmly around the grip and removing it from its position. Yaa tested the weight of it in her hand as she rejoined the group. Without warning, she sliced her palm open and allowed her blood to drip into the flame. The priestess noticed the look of horror on Nia’s face and attempted to quell her fears. “Don’t worry; you’ll only need a drop or two.”

Okoye was first to step up, pressing the dagger’s tip into her hand and drawing a small amount of blood. She handed the dagger to T’Challa as she made a fist and let her blood droplets fall into the fire pit. The king did the same before passing the dagger to Nia. She looked at it apprehensively, but T’Challa continued to hold it out for her to take.

“Go on, dear,” Yaa urged. “We will heal you up after.”

Nia and T’Challa locked eyes as they were both reminded of the night they became reacquainted with one another. T’Challa’s wound would quickly heal on its own, but she wouldn’t be able to use her powers to heal herself in Yaa’s and Okoye’s presence. She took a deep breath and tried to ignore the feeling of her palm stinging with the memory of alcohol pads. T’Challa knew where her mind had wandered to and took her formerly injured hand in his as he ran his thumb over her palm.

“It won’t be as bad as last time,” he whispered so only Nia could hear him. “Just a little cut, ok?”

Nia’s mouth dried up, and her eyes traveled to Okoye and Yaa. The priestess seemed intrigued by his tenderness towards her, but the irritation on Okoye’s face was clear as day. Nia remembered that he was a serial charmer and removed her hand from his. She reached for the dagger and quickly pricked her finger, squeezing a couple of droplets into the flame.

Yaa set the dagger aside to be cleaned and watched as the flames grew in intensity. All four of them stepped back when the fire surged towards the sky and took the vague shape of a man.

“Kokou,” Yaa fell to her knees, and the others followed her lead. “Thank you for answering our call.”

“Where is the fight?” his voice boomed around the expansive room as what looked to be his head swiveled from side to side taking in the four who summoned him. He had no eyes, but Nia felt his gaze land on her and linger for a moment too long.

“There is no fight this time, but we have an inquiry,” Yaa said as she stood.

“Very well,” Kokou’s voice rang out again, and the flames whipped in T’Challa’s direction. “What is so important that the king requires my assistance? Have you not a god of your own?”

T’Challa looked to Yaa for reassurance as he began to stand, and she nodded for him to continue. “Yes, I do, but she is missing.”

“Missing?! What do you mean missing?”

“She has not spoken to me in weeks, and Thoth has not seen or heard from her either.”

Kokou turned back to Nia. “And you have not heard from her?”

“No, sir,” Nia stood tall as she answered him.

“I am surprised she has not spoken to you of all...people,” he said with a mischievous lilt in his voice. Nia stilled as she realized that he knew what she was. She slyly made eye contact with T’Challa, and though his expression was unreadable, she knew he had to have heard it, too.

“You know, blood can tell you a lot about a person...or being,” Kokou began to pace around the large fire pit. “Who they are, what their lineage is...you, Nia, are very special. But I am sure you know that already, don’t you?”

Nia ignored the confused stares from Yaa and Okoye and stared straight into where she assumed Kokou’s eyes to be. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

“Kokou-”

“Patience, your highness,” the god chastised T’Challa, “I was getting to it. I just had to take a little detour first since you brought me such an interesting young lady. Now, to answer your question: sorry to disappoint, but no. I do not know where Bast is. I wish I did, though; she is an excellent sparring partner.”

Nia and T��Challa both deflated a little bit. They had hoped for a better answer than that.

“Thank you, Kokou,” T’Challa spoke with his head bowed to the god. The others did the same, and just as quickly as he had appeared, Kokou was gone.

--------

“Third time’s the charm,” T’Challa mumbled as he held the intricate iron gate open. Nia and Okoye walked through, and the general was blown away by the beauty before them. The botanical gardens sat on a protected stretch of land on the border between the Mining and River provinces, but people from all over the country traveled there to witness its splendor.

Nia, however, was no stranger to the gardens. She made sure to visit a few times a year just to sit and commune with the diverse group of plants, but she never knew it doubled as a place of worship. She liked that the gardens were never full of people, and depending on how deep she veered off the main walkways, she could avoid the public altogether. Except for the delightful presence of one of the attendants, Nia always managed to find solitude and serenity among the plants of the botanical gardens.

“Has this always been Mujaji’s temple?” she asked as the three of them followed the long, winding path that led to the greenhouses in the back of the gardens.

“As far as I’m aware. Why?”

“It’s just that I’ve been here before, and I never knew. I always felt like there was...something here, but I just assumed I was feeling the energy from all of the plants.”

“You can do that?” Okoye asked, and she caught another shared glance between Nia and the king. They had been doing that all day, and she was growing tired of it.

Nia opened her mouth to try to fix her slip-up, but she was saved when a young woman about her age emerged from behind a mango tree and recognized her colorful headwrap.

“Nia?”

“Sukutai!”

Nia ran over to her, and the women embraced. A smile crept up T’Challa’s cheeks at seeing Nia’s faint glow again, but, unfortunately, it seemed that Okoye might have seen it as well. The king ignored her pointed stares and continued to watch Nia and the woman from afar.

“What are you doing here? It’s been months since I saw you last!” Sukutai playfully scolded her before leaning in like she had a secret to tell. “You have to see the new fire lily blooms; I know they’re your favorite.”

“They are,” Nia chuckled, “but I’m here on business today.”

“Business?”

Nia gestured behind her, and Sukutai’s eyes widened in shock as she finally noticed T’Challa and Okoye standing in the distance.

“My apologies, my king,” she quickly saluted him, but he waved her off.

“None needed. Any friend of Nia’s is a friend of mine.”

Sukutai’s eyebrows almost reached her hairline as she turned back to Nia. “I know we don’t know each other very well, but how come you never told me you knew the king?”

“He’s new,” Nia shrugged nonchalantly.

Sukutai shook her head fondly at her friend as T’Challa and Okoye came to stand next to her.

“What brings you to my humble garden, your highness?”

“I would say this is anything but humble, priestess,” he chuckled. This time it was Nia’s turn to be surprised.

“Priestess?!”

“Yeah, I don’t like to advertise it,” Sukutai shrugged.

“Well, I guess we both have our secrets,” Nia teased, making her friend giggle.

“I guess we do.”

“Sukutai, we are here because we need to speak with Mujaji. Bast is missing and-”

“You need to see if he knows where she is.”

“Yes,” T’Challa nodded.

“Right this way,” Sukutai said as she stuck her elbow out for Nia. She wrapped her arm around it, and the two of them took off, chatting about the flora they passed on the way.

Sukutai led them to the back of the botanical gardens towards the greenhouses. There were several smaller ones scattered around that were about the size of Nia’s home, but the very last greenhouse was huge. It stood about two stories tall and expanded across an acre of land.

“How did I miss this?” Nia wondered aloud.

“You weren’t looking for it,” Sukutai winked. “Too distracted by the pretty flowers, as usual.”

“You should really pay more attention to your surroundings, Nia,” T’Challa teased, and she narrowed her eyes at him. Despite the fact that she was still very hesitant to trust Nia, Okoye had to stifle a chuckle at her attitude. It was refreshing for her to see a woman that seemed to be immune to his charms.

The four of them entered the greenhouse, and Nia was amazed at what she saw. Instead of beautiful flowers and lush trees and bushes, there were rows and rows of crops.

“I knew you had some fruit trees, but I didn’t know you grew other foods here, too,” she said with her mouth wide open.

“We have to. Who do you think taught us how to work the land?”

Nia nodded as she soaked up Sukutai’s words. It had never occurred to her that the humans had to learn agriculture from somewhere...or someone. She wondered if aziza had learned from him, too, and if so, why hadn’t she heard about it? Were their history books incomplete, too? Nia’s train of thought was cut short as they arrived at the center of the greenhouse. There was a large patch of soil surrounded by an old stone wall no more than two feet tall. A small plaque near the opening caught the visitors’ eyes, and they crowded around to read it.

“The first garden?” Nia gasped, and her eyes traveled to the rich soil.

Sukutai smiled proudly, “That’s right. This is where Wakandans first learned how to grow sorghum. Mujaji’s magic still inhabits the land, and he allows us to speak to him through it.”

“How does it work?” T’Challa asked, equally in awe of the plot of land that allowed his people to prosper. Yes, they had vibranium, but what use would that be without the ability to feed themselves? Had they remained hunter-gatherers, they never would have gotten to where they are today.

“I’ll show you,” Sukutai said as she untied her shoes. “Nia, would you like to help?”

“M-me?”

“Yes, you, silly. You have the heart and hands of a gardener.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“First thing’s first, shoes off,” Sukutai instructed, and Nia slid out of her sandals. “Now, you see those jars full of seeds over there?”

Sukutai gestured behind them, and they all turned around to follow her line of vision.

“Yes,” Nia’s voice shook as she spoke.

“Don’t worry about what each one is. Just go pick whichever one calls to you.”

Nia nodded and padded her way over to the table covered in glass jars. She felt the power radiating from each one, but she felt compelled to pick up a small jar full of green coffee beans. Her hand instinctively reached out to touch it, but she pulled back and looked to the priestess for permission.

“Go ahead, take one,” Sukutai urged, and Nia carefully screwed the top off. She reached in and grabbed one of the beans, and walked back over to Sukutai.

“Ok, how does this work?”

“We start with a yes or no question. Let’s try ‘Do you know where Bast is?’ and go from there, ok?”

“Ok.”

“Follow me.”

Sukutai stepped onto the sacred land, and Nia did the same. The ground seemed to vibrate, and Nia’s face lit up. The slight glow returned to her skin, and this time Okoye was sure in what her eyes beheld. She quickly turned towards T’Challa, who looked at her out of the corner of his eye but kept quiet. He shifted his weight away from her nervously and continued to watch Nia and Sukutai work.

“You feel it too, huh?” Sukutai asked with a sly smile on her face.

“It feels...it feels like my feet are buzzing.”

Sukutai’s head cocked to the side, and her eyes narrowed as she tried to understand exactly what was happening. Nia obviously wasn’t a priestess of Mujaji, yet his magic spoke to her in some way. That wasn’t normal, and neither was the faint highlight that appeared on her skin.

“Yeah, it does,” she agreed and shook the suspicions out of her head. She knelt to the ground, and Nia followed suit. “Hold the seed in your hands, close to your face- yes, just like that. Now, close your eyes and let it feel your energy. When you are ready, speak to it. Ask your question.”

Nia shut her eyes and focused on the feeling of the seed in her hands. She pictured it growing big and strong, and after a few moments, her mouth was filled with the taste of coffee. It was ready. She brought it closer to her lips and whispered, “Do you know where Bast is?”

When she peeled her eyes open, she saw a huge grin on Sukutai’s face.

“You’re a natural.”

“Thanks,” Nia giggled. “What now?”

“Now you plant it.”

“Anywhere?”

“Wherever you choose.”

Nia studied the ground around her and turned a little to the left. She held the seed in her left hand as she made a small mound in the dirt with her right. She gave the seed one last glance before pushing it into the soil.

“No water?” she asked.

Sukutai shook her head with a mischievous smile, “No need.”

“Ok...so now we wait?”

“It won’t take long. Usually about-” Sukutai’s eyes widened. “Look!”

Four sets of eyes trained on the tiny green sprout that pushed up from the ground.

“It’s never happened that fast before.”

The sprout turned into a seedling, and the seedling matured right before their eyes. Just as hope began to fill the air, it left, and the coffee plant shriveled up. The leaves turned brown, then a murky black before decomposing entirely. Everyone’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and silence descended upon the group. Without even asking, they all knew it was a resounding “no.”

--------

The silence was thick on the ride back to Nia’s. Okoye flew the Talon with a million questions running through her mind, all of which seemed to come back to Nia. Who is she? What is she?

Nia left her position by the window, no longer interested in the ground below, and met T’Challa by his sand table. She watched for a moment as the molecules dispersed and recollected themselves in the shapes of the temples they just visited and the gods they just contacted. He chewed on his lip as he tried to put the pieces together, but there just wasn’t enough information.

“T’Challa?” Nia spoke softly to keep Okoye from hearing.

“Hm?” he grunted without looking up.

“What if the problem isn't in this realm?”

The king tore his eyes away from the table, and the sand fell flat.

“You are suggesting we go to the magic realm?”

“Again with the ‘we,’” she sighed. “No, I’m suggesting I go to the magic realm.”

He stared at her blankly for a moment before calling out to Okoye, “General?”

“Yes, my king?”

“You will travel back to the palace alone-”

“No-” Nia tried to stop him.

“I will be staying with Nia a little while longer. I will call when I need you.”

“Yes, my king.”

Nia dragged her hand down her face, then immediately looked down and noticed the clay that had transferred to her palm. She pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned in frustration, both at the king and at her careless mistake.

“T’Challa, I just said-”

“I know what you said,” he snipped, “but this is my kingdom, and I need to know what’s going on.”

“But-”

“I’m going with you, and that’s final.” He turned away and joined Okoye in the cockpit.

Nia sat off to the side and pouted the rest of the way home. When they arrived, Okoye reluctantly left the king behind and flew off to the palace.

“She could’ve just stayed outside, you know,” Nia fussed as they entered her home. “Now she definitely knows something is up.”

He rolled his eyes, “She knew something was up the moment you started glowing.”

Nia froze and mentally kicked herself for not using the glamor spell her ubaba had taught her. She was in such a rush that morning that it completely slipped her mind. The smug look on T’Challa’s face made her want to slap him, so she stormed down the hall to her bathroom to fix her facepaint. As soon as she finished, Nia heard the king make a strange noise and looked out to see what he had done. A laugh erupted from her belly as she watched the king stand on the couch to get away from Sego. He glared at her, but his eyes promptly fell back on the python that was too close for comfort.

“Call off your snake!”

“Python,” she giggled. “Sego, stop messing with him, please.”

Sego turned her way, and Nia could see the playful look in his eyes. He thoroughly enjoyed messing with the king. T’Challa climbed down from the couch and let out a calming breath as Sego slithered away to the kitchen.

“So the mighty Black Panther is scared of pythons, huh?” she mocked him as she leaned against the doorframe.

“Not scared...I just don’t like them.”

“Mhm. If it makes you feel any better, he’s not fully a python. He’s a shifter.”

“Meaning…”

“Meaning sometimes he’s in his human form, sometimes he’s in his python form.”

T’Challa thought about it for a moment. “Actually, that does make me feel better. Thanks.”

Nia smirked and rolled her eyes.

“So,” T’Challa cleared his throat, “what now?”

“First, we go see my ubaba, then the queen.”

“Ok...how do we, you know, get there?”

“It’s easy,” she bragged as she walked over to him. “Give me your hand, and I’ll show you.”

Nia reached out to him, and when their hands connected, an image of the two of them sharing a feverish kiss popped into her mind. She gasped and pulled back as though she had touched a hot stove.

“What is it?!”

“N-nothing, I just,” she had to think of something quick. “My headwrap. I take it off when I go to the magic realm...to, uh, let my ears breathe, you know?”

“Um, ok.”

Nia hurried from the room and left T’Challa standing there, confused about what just happened. He knew she was lying despite the fact that her excuse had some semblance of truth to it. Thanks to the heart-shaped herb, T’Challa could hear her heartbeat, and something had caused her heart to almost beat out of her chest. His suspicions didn’t last for long, though, because when she came back from her room, his jaw dropped. Of course, he had noticed her beauty the first time, well the second time, he laid eyes on her, but as she came down the hallway fluffing her coils out into an afro that framed her face like an obsidian halo, he felt a knot form in his chest.

“Ready?” she asked, obviously over whatever had been bothering her.

“Yeah,” T’Challa cleared his throat. He was suddenly parched. “Ready.”

“Ok.” She grabbed his hands again, but this time there was no vision. Nia sighed in relief and looked him dead in his eyes as the atmosphere around them began to thicken. “Be cool. Don’t embarrass me.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @bribrisback, @dersha89, @impremenior, @ljstraightnochaser, @love--life--passion, @yourstrulybrii

#cecewritessometimes #troubled waters #tchalla x oc #black!oc #black panther fanfic #black panther au #Youtube

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castielle-deanna · 3 years

Text

Destiel fanfic masterlist

My Destiel fanfics in decreasing word count order:

Hold me tight or don't (Explicit, words: 37,677)

Tags: Canon Compliant up to 15x13 // First Kiss // Domesticity in the Men of Letters Bunker // Conversations in the Impala // falling!Castiel // New Relationship // First Time // Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent // Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love //Art Embedded //soundtrack

Summary: With Jack’s soul now back, the four inhabitants of the Bunker are working on establishing a new routine. Between hunts, God’s wrath hanging over their heads and Castiel’s dwindling grace, the angel is not particularly eager to mention his deal to the Winchesters. With everything that’s going on, allowing himself to be happy sounds impossible anyway, right? Wrong…

With art by the fantastic @lizleeships

“Why now?” The angel asked quietly, taking a small step back.

Dean's fingers tightened on the tie he'd been holding onto as if it was a lifeline. “You said we were real. I want to believe it.”

“Even if it ends in pain?”

“Cas, everything I do ends there, eventually. There is always a bigger, heavier, smellier shoe waiting to drop. Holding back in fear of it doesn't make it any smaller, lighter or... or... “

“Less odoriferous?” Cas offered.

“Is that even a real word?”

“It is, indeed.”

“Sometimes you sound like you eat dictionaries and Victorian novels for breakfast,” Dean shook his head, grinning.

My unintended (Explicit, words:10,202)

Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending // Post-Episode: s15e20 Carry On // FUCK CANON! // Saving Dean Winchester - Retconning the finale - The fangirl business // Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss // Castiel/Dean Winchester First Time Having Sex // Slow and Romantic Sex // Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester

Summary: At first, Castiel is ready to honour his part of the deal with the Empty, but then Jack shows up with distressing news...

With art by the fantastic @jeanne-de-valois

Cas heaves Dean into a bridal carry, struggling under his weight, but still he shifts slightly when Sam moves closer to help. He knows he needs to stop keeping Sam away, because it’s not fair, and it’s not what Dean wants anyway, but Sam accepts it and simply hangs back with a nod before he speaks again.

“I also know it’s not my business, but… do you think you could talk to Dean once he’s up for it? I’m not blind, or stupid. You two have to stop only holding each other like that when one of you is hurt or dead.”

Love me right (Explicit, words: 2,436)

Tags: Established Castiel/Dean Winchester // Porn with Feelings // Dean Winchester Wears Panties // Light Bondage // Panty Kink // Wing Kink // Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester // Light Dom/sub // Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester // Light BDSM // Dean and Castiel watch porn then recreate it

Summary: Dean asks to be tied up - who's Cas to say no to that? Written for a prompt by @winchester-reload on Patreon: "Thee Pink Panties"

“I want you to tie me up,” Dean blurts out one morning, closer to being asleep than awake still. He has no idea if Cas is even in the bedroom with him - for once, the angel is not curled around Dean with his whole body, their limbs entwined to the point where they can’t tell where one of them ends and the other begins, cliché as it is.

There’s no reply, so Dean lifts his head and blinks the grogginess away to look around. Cas is in the room, sitting cross-legged on the green couch by the wall with an open book in his lap but he’s staring at Dean with eyes so comically wide Dean would think it humanly impossible if he wasn’t seeing it with his own eyes.

“For fun,” Dean adds in hopes that Cas catches his meaning. The angel looks slightly less taken aback at that, but he still appears confused and tilts his head as if a slightly different angle would help with unraveling the mystery of Dean's words. “During sex, Cas.”

Rewind the exit (Teen And Up Audiences, words: 2,408)

Tags: Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair // Fix-It // Grief/Mourning // Angst with a Happy Ending // Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love // Grieving Dean Winchester // Grieving Sam Winchester

Summary: "Rewinding the exit wound, I'm holding on to you 'Cause I need words like anyone, and I need love like everyone With those words I'm strong enough, and I need love like everyone." (Rewind the exit by Volbeat) Obligatory 15x18 fix-it.

The Bunker is haunted. It's haunted by two faint apparitions of humanity who mostly pass each other by in the corridors like ships in the night, silent and distant.

Dean prays. Every morning, every evening, and most waking hours between the two, he prays. He doesn't know if Cas can hear him, but the faith that he can is all Dean has, so it has to be enough.

It's not enough. Yet Dean clings to it, because if he doesn't have that, he doesn't have anything.

Bite me (Mature, words: 1,407)

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence // Vampire Dean Winchester // Mild Blood!Kink (comes with the territory) // Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss

Summary: After Dean gets turned into a vampire during S06E05 - Live Free or Twi-hard, instead of going to Lisa's, he prays to Cas. Written for a prompt by winchester-reload on Patreon: "Vampire!Dean having a Cas snack"

“I can get you through this, and then we’ll burn any other bridges as we get to them,” Cas says earnestly.

“That’s not how the saying… you know what, never mind. I don’t want to get through this! I told you to kill me!” Dean pushes Cas away, but the angel holds onto both of his shoulders to stabilise him until Dean shakes him off in defiance. “Fucking stubborn angel, why can’t you just do as you’re told?”

“Because I’ve decided to disregard stupid orders!” Cas shoots back, and his previous stoicism is gone entirely. His eyes flare faintly with the light of his grace as he shrugs off his trenchcoat and goes to work on loosening his tie.

I wanna get you back again (Mature, words: 1,176)

Tags: Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair // Canon Divergence // Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss

Summary: Dean breaks into the Empty to save Cas. Written for a prompt by winchester-reload on Patreon: "Come on and lay it down/I've always been with you/Here and now/Give all that's within you/Be my Savior"

“Am I wrong in assuming that our friend who has the fashion sense of a flasher wasn’t the only one in love?” Balthazar smirked.

“Huh?”

Balthazar rolled his eyes. “Bit slow on the uptake, aren’t we? You know what, don’t answer that,” he shrugged, rolling right over Dean’s indignant splutter. “I’m talking about Castiel.”

“I know!”

“So which part of my question was confusing then?”

“Fuck you, Feather Boa, the Empty is trying to push me out and you want to chat?” Dean scoffed, trying to stomp his way past him.

“Your trenchcoated boyfriend is that way,” Balthazar said dryly, pointing to his left.

Forward is just the way ahead (General Audiences, words: 1,091)

Tags: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor // Baby Jack Kline // Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent // Tattoo Artist Dean Winchester // Single Parent Castiel

Summary: Tattoo artist Dean falls for client. Written for a prompt by winchester-reload on Patreon: "Cas getting tattooed by Dean (or the other way around)"

“So,” Dean began, “It’s a simple black design, correct? Four rows of symbols?”

“Yes. It’s actually a warding-slash-protection spell in Enochian, the language of Biblical angels. There’s… well, there’s a story to it,” Cas chuckled.

“Is part of that story that you were named after an angel?”

Cas’ chuckle changed into full-blown laughter. “Yes. I have to say I wasn’t expecting you to know that. In fact, all my siblings have angel names, except for Luke, but only because they wouldn’t allow my parents to officially name him Lucifer…”

Waffles or kisses (Mature, words:1,026)

Tags: Domestic Fluff // Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester // Established Castiel/Dean Winchester // Domesticity in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural)

Summary: Cas tries to make breakfast for Dean - it doesn't quite work out... Written for a prompt by winchester-reload on Patreon: "Great British Bake Off contestants with fewer clothes and lots of flour!" I have nefariously tweaked the prompt to allow me to play in the canon!verse.

“You look like one of the Great British Bake Off contestants, but with fewer clothes... and lots of flour, what the hell are you even doing?” Dean guffaws.

“Is that Dean?” A slightly tinny female voice comes from somewhere underneath the bowls, and it takes a moment for Dean to recognise it.

“Hi Jody!”

“Am I on speaker?”

“Yes,” Cas says, rolling his eyes. Dean finds that his behaviour is not unlike Miracle’s after the dog got caught chewing Sam’s 3rd pair of slippers to shreds, and the comparison draws another laugh out of him.

“Hi, Dean,” Jody says warmly. “Nice to hear your voice, though it would be even nicer if you were the one calling, rather than hijacking a conversation between Cas and I…”

Dean ducks his head as Jody’s “mom voice” tries to work its magic on him. “I’m not hijacking anything! Can someone explain why my kitchen and my… Cas are head-to-toe covered in flour?”

“I was trying to make waffles for breakfast,” Cas replies barely audibly, looking down, shoulders drooping.

With those words I'm strong enough (Mature, words: 703)

Tags: Dean Winchester Deserves to be Happy // Dean Winchester's Birthday // Established Castiel/Dean Winchester // Non-Explicit Sex // Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love // Dean Winchester Says "I Love You" // Pillow Talk // Dean Winchester Lives // fuck 15x20

Summary: It's Dean's birthday and Castiel doesn't waste a single second to wish him a happy one (Utter finale denial and slight sap below.)

“Where did you go, my love?” Cas asks, ruffling Dean’s hair, curling a longer-than-usual strand of it around his index finger.

“Thinking.”

“Uh-oh, that’s never a good thing,” Cas deadpans and Dean whacks his upper arm with very little force. “Ow.”

“Sarcastic asshole in one moment, drama queen the next,” Dean grumbles, and he fully intends to kiss it better, but before he could get around to it, he’s pushed onto his back and there’s a former angel of the Lord straddling him with a grin on his face.

Domestic (General Audiences, words: 462)

Tags: Domestic Fluff // Established Castiel/Dean Winchester // Fallen Angel Castiel // Suptober 2020

Summary: Middle-of-the-night Destiel chat. Just a lightning-quick ficlet as my first and possibly only entry to Suptober 2020. The prompt was 'domestic'

“Of all the human things, the constant need to urinate is the worst,” Castiel complained as he slid under the covers with a yawn.

“The worst?” Dean huffed in sleepy amusement. “Being shot is worse. Broken bones. A toothache…”

“They are worse, but they are temporary. Urinating is permanent. I will have to put up with it for the rest of my life.”

#Destiel #Destiel fanfic #DeanCas fanfic #creativecaviar #fanfic masterlist #destiel masterlist #Destiel fic #DeanCas fic

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

The Sheriff and the Murderer

Part Three

Previous Parts | Part One | Part Two

Series Masterlist

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Summary | one of the many things that you had never had the chance of doing was disposing of a body; luckily for you, you know just the right person who can tend to your aid.

Warnings | mentions of death, disposing of a body, mentions and aftermath of murder, mentions of rape, mentions of sex, swearing, mention of suicide

The smell of the carcass had your nose turning up, and the sight wasn’t much better. There was blood staining your lovely dress, that Lee had taken off hours prior. Now it was ruined, with the red digress of your husband; he always had to taint everything, and it still appeared to apply despite him being deceased.

Your eyes wallowed with water, as you thought of the mistakes you had made. There were so many, and marrying Simon had been of the greatest, considering that his treatment of you had been beyond disgraceful. And now, the red of his departed insides was sticking beneath his nails, causing you to gag.

This part, the slashing and ripping apart of his limbs, using your trusty shovel, had been worse than actually committing the initial crime. Killing him had been bliss, but this, reminded you of the possible consequences that you would be forced to partake in.

“Oh no.” You heaved, feeling nauseous from the pungent aroma, grasping at the top of your chest in sickness. You dropped his hand, that felt ironically lighter now that he was dead, letting it fall with the other parts of his distorted, and broken, body.

The worst part of all was, now that you had control of where his palms were permitted to go, and the power had you feeling complete. It had you basking in your own glory, but now, you were lost, grieving the path that you had lost regarding the man that you truly were infatuated with.

Walking backwards, and closing the shed door, you abandoned the sections of Simon, hurrying back into your empty home, and going towards your lined phone. Without caring about the prints of blood that you were padding onto the numerical keys, you dialled a woman that you knew to be in the business of cold body abandon.

For a minute, the line rang, leaving you antsy and picking at your stained nails, chipping away at the surrounding skin. All you could smell was the reminder of blood, that smothered you in a hermit of remembrance.

A remembrance of the times that he would splatter your body with his self, claiming that you were his wife, and even bragging about it to the fellas that he worked closely with. But you were nothing more than a shadow in his eyes, a prize that followed him around the house, flaunting her terrified doe eyes at his silhouette.

His greatest flaw was, aside from his poisonous and lingering touch, that smothered you in the cruelest of ways, was that he thought he was aware of everything that went on around him. It was as though he thought he were the sheriff...

But behind his turned back, your shadow would dance with the image of Lee Bodecker, in a private and disclosed matter. He was the true sheriff of the town, the wine who could order you to do anything, and you would wilfully comply.

Lee had, and never would hurt you. That was the definite difference between the polar pair. He was a lovely gentleman, and Simon, well, he was more like a rat swimming out of the sewer.

All these thoughts and actions of adultery were fair play, you slept with Lee behind the now scathed and chopped up back of your husband, whilst he bedded as many women that were actually willing to slumber with.

You were not dumb to his pattern, each night when he went out, he was pursuing a dame, but that never bothered you, because while he was out, the sheriff would make a stop, and check you over, in more ways than one.

Finally, you running with your thoughts was disrupted, for the ringing ceased. A upbeat and facade of a ‘hello’ rang though your ears, making you breathe a much deserved intake of relief.

“Hey Sandy.” You replied, holding the phone aggressively against your ear. Anything she had to say, you were willing to listen to, after all, she was a master in the ways of murder, as you knew and were trusted peculiarly with that detail of secrecy. “I need your help.”

The sound of Simon’s body parts beating around the trunk as sandy surpassed over a bump in the road reverberated through the entire vehicle. It soothed the initial silence that was exhibited in it, and nervously, you licked your thin lips, hoping that you would reach the ‘middle of nowhere’ soon.

It wasn’t that you and Sandy didn’t get along, in fact, you got along great, which was one of the reasons that she insisted to husband Carl that they leave you alive. But it was the fact that there was an unspoken gesture that waded through the air, like a muting toxin.

“Does Lee know?” She asked, finally breaking the silence like ice. It was a relief to hear voice, deep down, you were insecure that she was silently judging you for the entire ride, or at least, how far you had gone so far.

“No, and I intend for it to have a cap kept on it.” You slunk your shoulders, whilst thinking of Sandy’s sibling. He was far too good for you, he was the sheriff, and now, you deemed yourself as nothing more than a murderer.

The fact that you were a survivor of all sorts of horrid extremes wouldn’t matter to the boys in blue, they would not see you past your crime, and you feared that sheriff Bodecker would not either.

“Son of a bitch had it coming to him anyways.” Stated Sandy, being heartless to her admission. “The sight of you and that prick drove my brother insane. We all knew what he was doing to you, yet, they wouldn’t charge him, all because you were simply married to him.”

“What would you have done if Carl had dared lay his hands on you in an in-consensual manner?” You asked, plucking away at the trim of your clean skirt. Before you had left to go on this joyous trip with Sandy, you had changed, all in favour of the neighbours, and anyone else you happened to pass.

“I’d have done the same darling.” She comforted you, looking away from the road for a moment, to send you a quick and sincere smile. Things within the car were falling into their previous rhythm, it being apparent that the two of you were good and well adversed friends. “I wanted to kill Simon too, you know? But with the threats I have made in the past, it would have been far too suspicious.”

“Yeah.” You agreed, suddenly feeling guilty that if it were found to be known that Simon was butchered, Sandy would be interrogated, most likely from her own brother. “How is Carl?” You changed the subject, shifting under the grip of the seat belt.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you how my lovesick brother is?” She replied, laughing lightly at your warm face. “He’s still head over heels for you girl, and yet, the other man won your heart.”

“I wouldn’t say won it, I’d say he manipulated it.” You retorted, crossing your arms over your chest to pave down the swell of tension inside. “I’d always told myself, and you, that I’d choose Lee Lee, but high school was a long time ago, and I can’t go back to sneaking kisses with him under the bleachers when your back was turned.”

“Trust me, I knew all along.” She smiled, thinking back to the simpler times. “And though, I know when he was training to be a deputy, he’d told you he had no time for a relationship, and he didn’t exactly expect you to wait for him. But you may as well have, considering the two of you continued to fornicate like wild rabbits.”

“Please stop.” You groaned at her words, covering your face with your clear and evidence free hands. “And we did not fornicate like-“

“My bedroom was right beside yours when we got that apartment, and before then, well it was against Lee’s. Trust me, when I say that I know off by heart how you sound in bed sweetie. And god, did I grimace as I heard you mewling my brother’s name.”

Breathily you laughed, thinking back to the times that were spoke of. “Sandy.” You spoke her name, earning a radical hum in reply. “I love Lee.”

“Trust me darling, I am well aware of that. The two of you are like Romeo and Juliet, except you’ve killed someone else rather than taken your own life. And then, there’s never been anything holding the two of you apart-“

“Okay, you’re trying to make a point here Sand. Nothing like Romeo and Juliet, I got it.” You nodded your head, before leaning it back into the plumpness of the head rest. “And then there’s you and Carl, Bonnie and Clyde.”

“Sweetie, you’re a killer too now, so I wouldn’t make comparisons. You’re just lucky that the first suspect for Simon’s disappearance will be a man, and then we’ll see where I am on that list. And you know me, I will always protect you, it’s what we do.”

“It is what we do.” You repeated, watching the road ahead, and tapping your feet in tune with the floundering of Simon’s own rolling feet.

Tags;

@charmed-asylum @brynthebulldozer @tcc-gizmachine @stucky-my-ship @acciosiriusblack

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obiwanobi · 3 years

Note

okay but,, I can't get this idea out of my head of an au where anakin falls early, maybe halfway through the war– but instead of joining sidious or dooku he runs, terrified of himself, and stays somewhere he can't tear the galaxy apart like the darkest part of himself keeps goading him to. and he's there for a handful of months, and he's lonely and scared– until obi-wan comes to find him. and this man who anakin has loved for so long never stopped searching, razed a path through the galaxy (1/2)

I TOLD you all to stop sending me perfect prompts, god, here’s 3k that could be resumed by ‘it’s rotten work’ ‘not to me, not if it’s you’ because I have no self control:

"Anakin."

It's the first time in seven months that Obi-Wan pronounces his name with hope.

The back of the hooded figure visibly tenses in front of him. Obi-Wan can see his hand clenching around his glass, and his head starts turning in his direction but stops before Obi-Wan can see his eyes. Instead, it's in the Force that Anakin looks for him. It's a small, tentative tendril that crosses the space between them, ridiculously shy in comparison to the enthusiastic maelstrom that usually greets him when Obi-Wan extends his mind to Anakin.

But it's him. Too warm and barely controlled, the familiar flame of a burning pyre that Obi-Wan has never learned how to turn his eyes from.

Headache-inducing and almost unbearable, have been some words used to describe Anakin's presence in the Force. The most comforting of infernos, Obi-Wan has always thought.

Anakin feels surprised, and something close to joy colours the Force around him for a fleeting moment. Obi-Wan can feel the corners of his mouth turning up as he sighs affectionately.

"De—"

Then it all turns to panic.

He doesn't even have the time to realise that Anakin has retracted his signature behind durasteel shields the second it touched Obi-Wan's, because the man in front of him is already jumping to his feet, pushing the Twi'lek waiter away, and running for the exit of the cantina.

It leaves Obi-Wan stunned, arm still raised toward an empty chair.

Surprisingly, it's not panic that filled him, or even the persistent fear that if he loses Anakin now, after months of roaming the galaxy looking for him, then how long will it take before catching the smallest clue of his location again? No, this time, the worry and dread that has been his faithful companions for so long, now make way for something only Anakin knows how to infuse into him in the most inappropriate of times: exasperation.

"Anakin!" he yells, making the Rodian next to him jump in his seat.

Rushing outside, his eyes scan the street, trying to find a tall figure in a brown robe at the same time he stretches his senses through the Force to guide him toward his infuriating former padawan. Not used to the brightness of the twin suns and the constant particles of sand and dust floating around, Obi-Wan is almost sure that the glimpse of Anakin's presence he felt for half a second is only due to his inattention and not Obi-Wan's skills. For once, Obi-Wan isn't going to complain about Anakin's lack of focus: he starts running right away.

Anakin goes through three sharp turns, two attempts at climbing a roof and even one force-jump through the window of a shop, but Obi-Wan is determined to follow him wherever he goes. Even if he has to apologise to every irritated person he pushes out of the way.

"This is ridiculous," he says loudly, when he catches the dark brown robe trying to zigzag between stands, "I don't even know why you're running away from me!"

He thinks he can see Anakin throwing him a look, but with the hood over his face and one of the suns starting to set in front of him, can't be certain. It's only when Anakin seems to miss a turn and finds himself a few seconds later out of the streets, at the edge of a cliff overlooking the desert and its endless dunes, that he realises his mistake.

They're out of town now. There's nothing but the background noise of civilisation left behind, a warm wind sweeping the sand between them, and the twin suns bathing Anakin's silhouette in a glowing light.

"An—" Obi-Wan says, trying to get his breath under control. He's not used to such heat, and all the running, Force-jumping and the sweating really didn't help. Still, he takes a step toward him.

"Don't."

Even if it's just a simple word, hearing the sound of his voice soothes a deep ache that has plagued most of Obi-Wan's nights for the past few months.

Anakin is facing the canyon, the dune sea and the suns, a dark form with a double shadow, only showing his back to Obi-Wan. Even if he doesn't show his face, feelings bleed through his shields, as if he's still a padawan trying to get an awkward hold on the Force. There are confusion and anger, most of it directed at himself, Obi-Wan notes, and an all-encompassing veil of shame. Fear is here too, blending the edges of the mess produced by the cacophony of so many emotions clattering against each other. Obi-Wan can feel Anakin realising the flaws in his mental defences, and the spark of mortification before he hastily tries to rein it all in.

For a second, Obi-Wan thinks he's going to jump down the canyon just to avoid the embarrassment of inadvertently broadcasting his emotions.

"I won't stop chasing you now that I've found you," Obi-Wan warns, before the idea comes to Anakin's mind. The jump wouldn't kill him, but Obi-Wan really doesn't feel like tracking him through rocky canyons, tusken traps and krayt dragons. "I won't stop before you tell me why you're running away from me."

Anakin lowers his head without replying, shoulders sagging. Obi-Wan's feet move slowly. His mind reaches once again toward Anakin's, brushing against him in a wordless question. All irritation gone by now, he adds quietly:

"...And why you didn't come home."

Anakin's shields shudder. "You shouldn't have come."

"Anakin, the Separatists had you as their prisoner for almost a month. Rex told me he saw Grievous dragging your body to his ship himself. The Council waited for their terms of release, and when it didn't come, we thought you were dead."

"The Council," he snarls darkly, "they probably were happy to finally get rid of me."

"You know it's not true."

"No, I don't."

"Do you think I was happy, then?" Obi-Wan retorts, trying to stop the need to grab his robe and shake some senses into him. "Do you think Rex and I enjoyed having to plead with the Republic War Council to give us more time to look for you?"

The dark robe in front of him shuffles a bit. "You took the 501st to look for me?"

"Of course we looked for you! We went through every report of Grievous' flagship presence and got every intel we could gather about your possible location. There was no clue in any Separatist outposts we raided," he adds, focusing on his words to stay composed, and not the memory of becoming desperate enough after another fruitless day to check black markets for familiar mechno-arm's parts. "And we were starting to believe that you were truly dead then, until... Until we found an abandoned facility. With a lot of battle droids destroyed, and Grievous and Dooku dead. Force-choked to death."

Anakin stays silent again.

In the horizon, one of the suns has settled low enough to brush against the dune sea. The light has turned to a deep orange around his silhouette.

Obi-Wan takes a step.

"There was a holorecording."

The only answer he gets is the sound of a sharp intake of air, and an intensity in the Force that always saturates the air when Anakin tries, in vain, to calm his mind.

Another step.

"I saw you taking a starfighter. I saw you leaving the facility, free."

Another step.

"Why didn't you come back to the Temple?"

"There was nothing for me there anymore."

The word stops Obi-Wan in his tracks. Somehow, one sentence is harder to swallow than months of worry. He's always known that he failed to make Anakin feel at home at the Temple, or make him realise that there might not be parents or siblings in names there, but the feeling of kinship remains the same. But to hear him say that the sum of all these years spent there together boils down to nothing to him, still manages to crack Obi-Wan's composure.

The burn in his throat makes his next words difficult to pronounce.

"Why didn't you come back to me, Anakin?"

"BECAUSE I'VE FAILED YOU!" Anakin snaps, throwing his arms up and his shields down, and finally turns toward Obi-Wan in a dramatic movement of his robe.

The hood falls from his head, and even if the sunset at his back prevents Obi-Wan from seeing his expression, hidden in the shadow, he can't miss his golden hair forming an incandescent halo around his face. The Force has erupted in a bonfire within Anakin, crackling around him in warning to anyone who would approach it, white-heat fever and boundless darkness at the same time.

It tastes like ash on Obi-Wan's tongue.

He pulls his own shields a bit tighter around him.

"Why do you keep asking this question when you know what I've done? Why are you even here? Are you here to kill me? Because I failed you, Obi-Wan! I killed them and I felt nothing but satisfaction! I accepted the dark side, I welcomed it even, it burned through me and it's still burning right now, and I'm incapable of controlling anything, not even my own shields, so no, I couldn't come back and pretend I could still be a Jedi. And now you saw it, you saw everything, so I can't even prete— I can't..."

The swirling of emotions comes crashing down around Anakin so violently that Obi-Wan physically flinches, and it looks like the Force is suddenly cutting down the strings holding him upright. He crumples to the ground in a cloud of sand and dust, close, too close to the edge of the cliff.

There's only the sound of Anakin panting for a moment, long enough for Obi-Wan to gather his thoughts, and take another step.

Only he would be foolish enough to want to touch glowing embers.

"It doesn't change my question," he says calmly, like he's always done after one of his padawan's tantrum. "Why didn't you come back to me, Anakin?"

He thinks he can see Anakin opening his mouth to answer, but only a short derisive laugh leaves his lips before he drags his feet in the dust and turns away from him again.

Finally, —finally—, Obi-Wan is close enough. Stopping just a few centimetres from Anakin's back, his hand instinctively reaches for his shoulder but hovers right before touching it. And then settles there and squeezes. It belongs there, he thinks as Anakin makes a small noise at the back of his throat.

He expects Anakin to shrug off his hand, refuse his touch, just like he's refusing to look directly at him.

But he doesn't.

"I couldn't see you," he admits after a pause, eyes closed. "I don't care about the Council, or the Republic, or anyone else, but I couldn't... I couldn't bear the disappointment in your eyes. I didn't want you to leave me, so I left first."

"Oh, Anakin," Obi-Wan sighs, trying to swallow the affection in his voice. He pauses for a second, relishing the feel of Anakin letting him rub his thumb on his shoulder. "I am saddened and upset, yes. When I watched all that anger unleashed and how you succumbed to it, how you crushed Grievous and Dooku so easily that I could almost feel the dark side through the holo, I felt... I felt heartbroken."

The indignation he expected, or any sort of accusations to shift the blame on something or someone else, doesn't come. Instead, Anakin bends his head and pulls his legs closer to him, like he has just been hit.

"I'm sorry Master," he manages to whisper, face hidden behind his arms and hair, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—"

"Listen, listen," Obi-Wan begs rapidly, kneeling next to him. His hand moves from his shoulder to the back of his neck, trying to soothe him. "I was heartbroken for you. You were alone, in a terrible situation, being taunted, electrocuted, tortured. It doesn't excuse what you did, but, Anakin, you disappeared for months after that. You ran away without a word, without an explanation, and I couldn't— I couldn't believe you would voluntarily turn your back on us. I couldn't let the thought that you didn't trust us enough to help you go. And then... you called for me."

"No, I didn't." The muffled, petulant tone makes Obi-Wan smiles a bit. His hand moves up along his nape to Anakin's curls, stroking gently, pushing unruly locks behind his ears.

"You did. Unconsciously, probably, but you did. For so long, I couldn't reach you through the Force, but I kept trying every time I meditated, hoping to catch a glimpse of you, anything to make sure you were still alive somewhere. And one day, I heard you. Far, far away, barely loud enough to recognise, but I heard you. Wishing I was with you."

Anakin's hand clenches in a fist at the words. Obi-Wan ignores it, fingers still running through his hair in a rhythmic movement.

"That's why I've spent seven months looking for you, searching the galaxy for you. Because I wished I was with you too."

Obi-Wan didn't expect the wounded noise that escaped Anakin's mouth, and even less that his admission would cause Anakin to throw himself at him in a fierce embrace. Caught off-guard, Obi-Wan topples and falls on his back in a cloud of dust. In the Force, Anakin's shields come crashing down again, but this time, Obi-Wan doesn't draw back from it. Their bond suddenly bursts open, emotions spilling in all directions and showering him with a chaotic jumble of relief-longing-hope, eventually blending together to only leave lovelovelove.

"Anakin," he sighs, with his usual falsely annoyed and secretly fond tone that seems to be the only way he knows how to pronounce his name. Anakin, heavy on top of him now, doesn't respond, too busy nuzzling Obi-Wan neck. "The cliff is right there, we could have died."

"Don't care," he replies, squeezing his arms impossibly tighter around Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan chuckles, and he can feel more than hear him hums in appreciation at the sound, face hidden under his chin.

After months of extending his mind through millions of Force-sensitive beings scattered around the galaxy and still finding it empty, there is nothing more reassuring than being smothered by Anakin's presence in the Force. He tugs on their bond a bit, just to feel it, and when Anakin instantly tugs back, Obi-Wan's hand on his waist pulls him closer.

"Would you look at me, Anakin? Just for a second. I have yet to really see you."

There is a short pause and then a long breath against his neck before Anakin puts one elbow on the ground next to Obi-Wan's face, raises his head, and finally, truly looks at Obi-Wan.

"Hello, there," Obi-Wan whispers, as familiar blue eyes blink at him.

Embarrassment tinges the Force and his cheeks pink, and Anakin seems to promptly remember that his shields are non-existent right now and that he's lying flat on Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan watches, amused, as he awkwardly starts to untangle his legs from him and shifts his weight to get to his knees.

"Now, shall we—"

"Watch the sunset with me," Anakin blurts out, then realises what he just said and starts babbling. "I mean, we're already here and it's almost over now, but it's the only beautiful thing on this Force-forsaken planet."

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that," Obi-Wan grins as Anakin's eyes widen. He opens his mouth, thinks better of it and closes it, looking at anything but Obi-Wan. Taking pity on him, Obi-Wan holds his hand toward him to help him get up. "Also, Anakin, the next time you want to punish yourself, please choose to do it on another planet than Tatooine. I don't think I can handle one more day of the suns trying to roast me like an Endorian chicken."

"Yes Master, your fair skin will be my first consideration the next time I turn to the dark side."

"I'm sure it will," he teases, squeezing Anakin's hand as he pulls him into a sitting position.

Anakin rolls his eyes, but quickly ducks his head to hide his reddened cheeks.

And then it hits him.

Right at this moment, seated next to his former padawan, their feet dangling above the desert, easy banter and the quiet tune of their signatures melting into each other again, Obi-Wan is happy. Even if Anakin is still dangerously close to the dark side, even if the war isn't completely over yet, even if he's not going to get away with deliberately ignoring the Council's messages for the past few months, Obi-Wan feels at peace. Content.

Eyes closed, he whispers his thanks to the Force for not taking another one of the most important people in his life away from him.

He doesn't need to look at Anakin to know he's wondering what he's doing, and his smile only grows before taking his hand in his own. Anakin makes a surprised noise, raising his head to look at him. His expression turns almost alarmed when Obi-Wan cups his face, thumb rubbing lightly against his cheek.

"We'll figure it out, Anakin. I won't leave you."

He's framing his face with both hands now, and can’t resist pressing his lips to his forehead. Anakin's signature turns impossibly brighter at the touch, and between the new uproar of feelings tangled together, Obi-Wan notices a tinge of desire and want, that will definitely be analysed later and probably used to tease him a bit more. This shade of red does look lovely on his cheeks, he notices, pleased.

But he will have time to embarrass him further later. Now, Obi-Wan just wants to enjoy the moment with him.

"...Also because I can't. The starship I borrowed has been making a worrying rattling noise since I left the Mid Rim. It's a miracle I arrived on Tatooine in one piece, and there is no way I'm putting another foot in it before you can assure me that it won't explode the moment I activate the hyperdrive regulator."

Anakin bursts into laughter. "Borrowed? Who did you steal it from this time?"

"I would never—" Obi-Wan scoffs, falsely indignant at the accusation.

"Don't lie, Master, it's unbecoming of you."

"I left a very apologetic note behind, if you must know."

Anakin laughs again, and it warms Obi-Wan's heart like nothing has managed to for the past seven months. He leans on his side to rest his head against Obi-Wan's, bumping his shoulder with his. There isn't any space left between them.

"What would you do without me, Master?"

"Crash and burn, probably."

Basking in the golden light of the sunset, Obi-Wan tries not to burst with how warm he feels with Anakin messy locks tickling his face and Anakin's breath near his ear and Anakin's hand in his.

The last of Tatooine’s suns goes down in front of them.

The most comforting of infernos, Obi-Wan thinks as the scorching heat of Anakin's signature clings to him too tightly.

He doesn't mind burning at all.

#obi-wan ignoring his comm for months: 'the council can't tell me to come back if I don't answer to their calls'#obikin #clem's aus #fic I did write #asks #anon

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whatudottu · 3 years

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I wanna talk about transformers again, and I suppose this time it’s more a theory than a ship or some AU. A headcanon though? Maybe, let’s see how this goes.

Alright, so those of y’all who’ve been around long enough in the TFP fandom may have seen those posts that compare Darksteel and Skylynx, the newly created predacon bros, and our much mourned BBBs Breakdown and Dreadwing.

If you’ve already noticed, you’ve noticed, but for those not in the know, we got similarities between Darksteel and Breakdown,

And Skylynx and Dreadwing…

Of course, this could simply just be coincidence, and I’m reading into this too much. But when have I ever stopped while I’m ahead?

The previous theory is that our wonderful predabros use slices of CNA from our dead cons, and knowing Shockwave, it’s an understandable concept. The idea here being, with a little bit of base CNA, it takes less time to grow the lads.

Now me, here in 2021, have been thinking of this. In doing that, I’ve come up with two questions; 1) when did Shockwave get the time to sample Breaky’s and Drwing’s CNA and 2) why stop at meagre CNA?

What I’m proposing here, which would help the theory for speedier development of predacons, that Shockwave took Breakdown’s and Dreadwing’s bodies and used them in full to make Darksteel and Skylynx.

Horrifyingly cold-sparked of him, innit?

A question that you may be asking; ‘If getting the CNA is so difficult, how is a full body easier?’. Well lads, I’ve got a handy dandy little work around that happened in universe, and could very well be the reason Shockwave got his singular servo on the bodies.

Knock Out being forced to turn over his experimental projects.

Yeah, perhaps that only covers Breakdown’s corpse (mainly due to C.Y.L.A.S), but logically, the scientific method is benefited from numbers, and passing up two forced mech bodies would be too much of a loss for Shockwave to ignore. Sure, it takes a special kind of f-ed up to see an experiment out of a former loyal ally, but Shockwave’s your mech.

He could have easily requested to head to Cybertron under ‘scientific’ purposes, and given that he was indeed SiC (ignoring Screamer for this post) AND head of experiments, Shockers had quite the authority on the matter.

I like to think this influences some personalities and… behaviours of the predacons, which is where I reach a bit and also bring up headcanons.

Darksteel may look a whole lot like Breakdown, but one could say that his voice sounds far from our blue con. But, given the entire episode of ‘Thirst’, Breaky was hissing and growling, one could easily say that his voicebox was a little… corroded. Steely’s got some vocal fry without the deep voice to make it sound anything other than a blender full of scrap metal.

…uh, no offense to him, haha.

Probably more on the headcanon side of thing, Skylynx may instinctively and automatically form a brotherly relationship to Darksteel because of his Dreadwing… ancestry? Yeah sure, they fight, but what pair of siblings don’t. Predacons do seem to have more of a family instinct in comparison to other bots, but Skylynx is just the embodiment of the ‘teasing big brother’.

Of course, canon may beat my head in with the ‘wrong’ stick, but I couldn’t care less, I’m here with ideas and these ideas are flowing.

Why do I bring this up?

Multiple reasons.

1) Knock Out going to the morgue on the ship to bury the mechs on a revived Cybertron, only to find that it’s been raided.

2) Starscream, forced to pair up with Shockwave for the time being, realising the extent he would go for science. Screamer gets to a) zap some familiar faces, and b) be the defacto leader of those said familiar faces…

3) Lol if Dreadwing were alive and met Predaking but then died anyway wouldn’t it be funny if Predaking recognised Skylynx and the latter gets confused???

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lover-of-queens · 3 years

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Farah Dowling is Alive Part 2

The follow up to Part 1 or as I like to call it: look mom, I told you this degree would have uses in the real world!

If you haven’t had a chance to read it yet, you can find Part 1: Here

You know the drill, under the cut cause this is probably going to get long!

Episode 4: Some Wrecked Angel

Episode opens with our favourite trio. If you’ve read the first part then you’ll be familiar with my argument that it could be possible the writers are leaving Farah x Saul threads to pick up at a later date. I think this scene has some interesting ones. There’s a lot of effort in this scene to set Farah and Saul up as parallels - in a way that also makes them stand apart from Ben. We have them saying his name together, but also, when they discover Callum’s body, both Farah and Saul are in sync as they move into a kneeling position.

I don’t necessarily know if this could be considered an argument for them bringing Farah back, however, in the scene with Farah, Stella and Luna, Stella brings up an interesting point about Farah’s pedagogy. We’re told that Farah chooses care and time over “solely results” when it comes to teaching. In the next episode we learn Rosalind’s own teaching style involves putting her students “through hell”. I don’t necessarily know when the change will happen but given this, I don’t see any way Rosalind can remain Headmistress, especially when they’re taking pains to show Farah as better suited for the role.

Also important in this scene is Farah and Luna’s last exchange. We know what appearances Luna has helped Farah maintain - the barrier/illusion that stops Aster Dell from being seen. So, what’s interesting is Farah’s next line:

Farah: “Yes, we’ve both done a great deal to preserve Solaria’s reputation.”

This does not get addressed during the remaining episodes. Personally, this line and the amount of tension between Farah and Luna also strikes me as a potential thread that could be picked up later. I’m going to wager that I’m not alone in wanting to know what exactly they did to “preserve” Solaria’s rep. And my guess is, because Brian has mentioned that they’re going to expand on the winx world, we’re going to be finding out more about Solaria in S2. Theoretically, I suppose whatever event that is being referenced here could be dealt with without Farah on screen, but then we’d miss out on all the fun tension! Also, as of right now, fan response to Luna is nothing compared to Farah (at least from what I’ve seen).

Tattoo theory, several people have already spoken on this and I don’t want to speak over them. I’m still sorting out my own thoughts on whether it’s Farah’s or Eve’s but I will say that Farah is always wearing rings so it seems to me that if they wanted it covered they could easily do it with a ring (or makeup). If the tattoo is purposely put there then I’m going to assume its for a reason that the writers may want to deal with at a later date (hint, hint: bring back Farah).

Episode 5: Wither Into the Truth

I may do another post on this at some point if I can find enough to say to warrant it but Farah’s eye colour when she does magic. Up until now every time Farah’s done magic her eyes have glowed blue and yet in the scene where she questions Beatrix they glow light orange. Now I’d always assumed that the colour of the glow = element, which was why I didn’t know why Farah’s glowed blue to begin with; she’s a mind fairy so I would have expected the purple that Musa has. And actually the confirmation of her being a mind fairy comes from Fate’s IG page shown below, I don’t know if it’s ever explicitly stated in the show? Further, to my knowledge, Farah is the only fairy we’ve seen whose eyes glow different colours. So, a thread to pick up in season 2, perhaps?

Also I’m very interested in the use of the word “Once”. In this instance I would almost take it to mean ‘no longer is’ but the tense is present perfect (I think?) which can suggest the continuance of an action. But now I’m being overly nitpicky and technical. Also I don’t know how ‘principle’ made it through what I’m assuming are several stages before making it onto IG, but it gave me a laugh!

“Incredibly powerful” yet loses to Rosalind without a fight? Not buying it. Additionally, the use of “other forms of magic” is interesting and I figure could be taken to mean other elements. But I wonder if there’s more to it than just that. Farah shows knowledge of archaic Fairy Magic with the Nettle Amalgam, so maybe there’s more archaic knowledge out there that she knows ... that could prove helpful.

Now, back to the episode. When Farah and Hologram Luna are talking, the fact that there are two burned ones travelling together is cause for concern.

Farah: “There are two of them travelling together. That hasn’t happened since … In a long time.”

Once again we are left with a thread of something that has happened. In the same IG post as above, in the section for Saul, it mentions that he and Farah became confidants “after experiencing the Black Woods Massacre”. I wonder if that could be what Farah’s referring to here? I know the massacre has come up once or twice in conversation and correct me if I’m wrong but I don’t believe it’s ever been properly explained? To me, it looks like a great bit of backstory to get into at a later date. It may not confirm Farah being alive necessarily, but you could take it as a sign that we might see Eve again.

Lastly, for this episode, is the scene between Farah and Bloom. Specifically this part:

Farah: “I will help you get the answers you need. I give you my word.”

You can probably guess what I’m going to say at this point, a thread that can be picked up in season 2! You could counterargue that Rosalind could help Bloom with answers (as she offers in the next episode) but in my humble opinion, I don’t think it would offer narrative satisfaction. First, because we’ve been shown what a terrible mentor Rosalind is. Second, they’ve spent the first season showing how Farah and Bloom’s mentor-student relationship has developed (bloomed?) so it seems a waste to go through all of that development for nothing.

Episode 6: A Fanatic Heart

Rosalind has her little prison break. Personally, I still think there’s a lot of unanswered questions about what happened after Aster Dell, how they imprisoned Rosalind, etc. And I do hope that we get some answers in Season 2 - again these answers may not necessarily involve Farah on the screen but as every writer gets told the age old advice of “show, don’t tell”, I think there’s potential for that.

Farah immediately tries to disprove my points about her intelligence by wandering alone in the woods at night. But she’s pretty, so I’ll allow it.

Rosalind gives Bloom some answers but not all, so I do think that my point above about Farah helping Bloom find more answers still stands. Further, I find the Farah is Bloom’s mother theory to be unlikely for several reasons (this is not the post for them) but I do want to draw our attention to several lines of dialogue here.

Bloom: “You hid me from Miss Dowling.” ….

Rosalind: “The guidance you needed was love. Farah couldn’t give that to you. Vanessa and Michael could.”

There are SO many reasons why this exchange is fascinating. I’m interested in why Bloom brings up Farah to begin with - her other points could stand alone to the same affect. I’m also really interested in the direct comparison between Farah and Bloom’s adoptive parents -- if Bloom hadn’t gone to them, she would have gone to Farah? It almost seems as though the direct comparison implies that. Also, considering Bloom’s relationship with her adoptive parents, I really doubt the validity of the statement. Plus, I wouldn’t trust Rosalind’s idea of love in general.

Also, Rosalind is just so certain that Farah couldn’t love Bloom … can’t love in general? There’s just so much of Farah and Rosalind’s relationship that hasn’t been explored that I think really needs to be.

Now, the scene that always makes me cry! Farah and Bloom have had a difficult time this season and it’s all lead up to this moment of trust and vulnerability - on both sides. If you ask me, this season has been setting Farah up to be the mentor figure that Rosalind was not - Rosalind’s opposite. And they’ve worked hard at it, even when they were trying to convince us Farah might be the evil one which like lmao. I find it hard to believe that they would go through all of that work just to discard it by leaving Farah dead. Especially because what Farah admits to Bloom in this sequence feels like a changing moment for her - she recognizes things she wishes she would have done differently (being less of a figurehead, being more open) and I think its only fair that Fate allows her to follow through on those things.

And onto the scene that I really don’t want to rewatch but I’m going to do it for y’all. I’ve touched on Farah x Saul moments so it’s only fair that I touch on Farah x Rosalind ones. There is tension here (looking at each other’s lips, Rosalind getting closer to Farah, Farah grabbing her), I mean the cast has joked about shipping them. But there are several different ways to read this and you are more than welcome to your pick! It doesn’t really change my point, which is … thread to pick up in season 2? Have you started taking a shot every time I’ve said that (please don’t <3).

Farah who has shown herself to be incredibly intelligent and cautious when it comes to Rosalind turns her back on her. And we get what is probably the most important piece of evidence: the eye glow. It can mean absolutely anything, but I’d wager one of the reasons its there is to have people do exactly what I’m doing here. Theorizing about whether Farah could still be alive. I’m going to take that as a sign there’s hope (mainly because I think it would be cruel to suggest a ‘could she come back narrative’ and then … not have her come back). Also, in the Fate novel, it describes Farah’s death as “too easy”. I absolutely refuse to believe that it could be easy to kill Farah when she’s proved time and time again how powerful she is.

That finishes my episode by episode analysis. It totals well over 2500 words. If you can believe me, I still have more to say on this topic (discussing general counterarguments and possible logistics of Eve’s filming), so stay tuned for a Part 3?

#Farah Dowling #fate: the winx saga #fate the winx saga #fate SPOILERS

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

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Humans are Space Orcs, “Stowaway.”

A couple of you guys wanted to see this go down, and I thought it wasn’t a bad idea, so why not :)

“Certainly not, they cannot be trusted.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Even if their story is true, I have no doubt that they have other motives. No one offers peace accords if there are not ulterior motives.”

“But they already said! They want to trade with us, and they want the precious mineral compounds found in our ice.”

“They want to enslave our planet more like.”

“You saw the creature, it had no fur, and it was freezing as soon as it took its layers off. I have no doubt that it has no interest in enslaving our planet. The environment is to inhospitable for it to consider spending so much time here.”

“Your logic is backward for a scientist…. But I suppose that should be expected of someone with your pedigree.”

“....You are wrong, and your hesitation will cost us. They saved our lives, the least we can do is hear them out.”

“And at the end of the day that is my decision and not yours. You overstep your bounds, and now you will return to your place, scientist.”

Yeb stood ears plastered back against her skull, the fur on her back puffing outward to strain against the inside of her jacket, but she didn’t protest. He may have been wrong about many things,but he was right about this one, she had no power here, and to assume as much would be too presumptuous.

She did know her place.

Had known it since she was a pup.

She raised her chin stiffly at the chancellor and turned on her heels, claws digging against the ice as she trudged from the council chambers and out into the blinding sunlight of early morning. The council had debated for many hours, until unanimously making a decision that she thought would be a great mistake. They had decided not to engage with the GA, and therefore cut off any chances they would have at learning from the more advanced race.

She brushed a dusting of snow from a rock just to her right and sat down staring up at the sky. Over her head the atmosphere was a light bluish purple. The sun blazed down with white blue intensity.

She could have learned so much from them. Perhaps a way to develop better vaccines as they had clearly found the cure to the plague faster than any of them could. If it had been up to her expertise, the entire world would be dead by now.

Yeb sighed deeply.

There were so many things she could have learned from them, so many things, but now that knowledge would be lost, and they would be left to trundle along in a dark age ad never know what glorious things they could have learned.This GA governmental body has offered them transport into the stars! Who would refuse such an offer.

It was a monumental mistake.

She sat there for a long moment, contemplating her next move. The future seemed bleak in comparison to the one they had been offered. How could she just go back to her normal life knowing what was out there? Could she just sit idly by in her ice cave, eating the same bland fish and listening to the same bland propaganda of a government that “couldn’t or wouldn’t” see what a tragedy it was to lose fifty percent of their lower class? It made her sick as she pictured the beautiful images she had seen in scientific journals of the vast cold darkness of space.

She stood.

That was it, if nothing she wanted to at least see the creatures off, tell them good luck, and thank them for what they had done. Maybe they would be more likely to return one day if ‘someone’ deigned to go and say goodby to them and actually thank them for what they had done.

With her mind made up, she stood, and with renewed vigor made her way over the icy tundra and towards the alien landing sight. Government officials were crawling all over the area, keeping the curious, prying eyes of the civilians well back where they couldn’t cause trouble or get any ideas. They tried to keep her back too, but she flashed a badge at the first two and managed to dodge two more before three burly agents stepped into her path.

All three of them had deep onyx fur and glowered at her with intense black eyes.

“This area is restricted.”

“I just want to talk to them. They know me.”

“This area is restricted.” They repeated.

“I am the scientist who first came in contact with them, please, I would really just like to speak with them.” She tried moving around, but it was no good, and they continued to block her path. Behind him, she could see the shuttle that had brought the aliens down. It was of trange construction, cold silver steel in sharp angular lines. The creatures swarmed around the ship carrying boxes, a few of them collected ice and snow in small clear tubes.

The commotion must have alerted them, and she saw their leader raise his head as the agents began to push her back.

She waved a desperate hand in the creature’s direction, and it broke into a trot over the icy ground its boots cringing over the snow.

“Hold on!” It called, and its booming voice was enough to make the agents stop and back away nervously.

The only thing she could see under its mask and hood was that sharp green eye.

“Everything alright?” he wondered

She sighed but nodded, “Well…. No…. not really. I just wanted to let you know that…. Well Not all of us agree with the chancellor. Don’t…. Well just don’t forget about us.”

She watched the creature’s face wrinkle about the eyes, and the feeling she got from the expression was… one of surprising pleasure.

“Don’t worry, we won’t forget about you. We are a bit harder to ignore than all that…. In a strictly annoying sort of way and less of the tyrannical, we are going to take over your world sort of way.”

The creature made a strange repeated whirring noise deep in his chest, and she yipped her own amusement.

He held out a hand to her and she stared at it, “It's a human greeting and farewell.”

Gingerly she reached forward and took his hand feeling as he wrapped his fingers around hers in a firm grip and shook once.

It was a strange gesture, yet one that simultaneously made her feel connected to him, in a way, not altogether unpleasant.

Then he let her go, turning back to his ship and striding over the ground with the confidence of a creature that had done this sort of thing many times, that was until he slipped on the ice and staggered awkwardly, arms flailing. She yipped again in amusement and he waved a hand turning around to see if anyone had seen.

She turned and made her way back up towards the plateau watching as the ice and tundra spread out before her, white on blue purple, and just as she was reaching the top, she stopped. She could go no further.

She glanced back to where the strange creatures were beginning to load their equipment back onto their ship, and then forward to where the government agents were busy pushing back a line of curious onlookers.

No one saw her.

Yeb sat in thought for a long moment, and before she really knew what she was doing, she turned around and raced back down the hill skidding and sliding on the ice with barely controlled speed. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, or what she was going to do, but as she reached the bottom of the hill, and saw an open box resting on the ground; she made a decision.

It wasn’t a good decision, nor was it a well thought out decision, and honestly later, she would come to realize that there were easier ways to do what she was about to do, the number one being to simply ask politely, but none of that crossed her mind as she dove into the box and pulled the lid over her head.

As far as she knew, no one had seen her, and before long she felt the crate lurch upwards and wobble its way towards the shuttle, while the creatures outside grunted at its unusually heavy weight.

She was set down inside, and, she thought, strapped down.

It didn’t occur to her again, until the engines ignited, just what she had done to herself.

Her stomach lurched into her feet and she screamed in fear and shock as the ground fell out from beneath her. All she could hear was the roaring of engines and feel the battering of the atmosphere around her as they cut through the atmosphere.

And then, after just a few minutes, the rattling died away, and she found herself floating inside the box like a free droplet of water in freefall.

With her tail tucked around her she hugged herself tight, screaming internally about what she had just done.

At some point, she felt the ship lurch, and aftera moment, she dropped back to the bottomotom of the box as gravity reinstated itselfreinstateditself.

Inside her box, the air grew stiflingly hot, and she began to pant vigorously as the heat seeped into her body. She hadn’t expected it to be so hot.

She felt her crate lurch again, and her ears were filled with the echo of a large space, and strange alien voices calling out to each other. She shrunk back into her box, there must have been hundreds of them…. And now she was a stowaway.

She really hadn’t thought this through. What was she going to eat? What was she going to drink? What would happen if they found her skulking on board the ship without invitation. The creatures had seemed hospitable originally, but that didn’t really mean anything if they thought she was some kind of spy.

Her insides churned a bit as the crate was set down and the voices retreated.

The box continued to gro hotter and hotter.

She tried to wait it out as best she could, but soon, it became to much, and with a gasp of air she threw off the lid of her crate and gasped for fresh air.It was, somewhat fresher than it had been inside the crate, but the heat was still unbearable.

Panting fit to burst, she tripped off her jacket,undershirt, gloves and any other layer she could think of, tossing them into the box.

It was marginally more bearable, but still,she felt as if she could barely breathe.

This was a worse idea she had ever had.

How could she have been so stupid. The creatures were clearly very cold on her planet, what made her think that she would be comfortable in their environment.

She heard footsteps,and quietly dropped to one knee, still panting.

“You see that place. Frozen hellhole for sure.”

“I wouldn't mind the cold so much, but the place looked like a prison with ice.”

“Hmm if their government leaders knew what they were missing maybe they wouldn’t be so hasty to tell us to shove off.”

A familiar voice broke in with them, “I don’t know, i thought it was kinda cool, like Hoth from star wars.”

“Admiral, haven't we established that you are like…. The only person on this ship who knows what that means.”

“You know what it means.”

“Thats because you forced us into a star wars marathon.”

“You can thank me later.”

There was some grumbling from the group of humans as they passed by, and Yeb finally got a good look at the creatures without all their layers on. They were, surprisingly, a lot thinner than she had first thought, long and lanky in their limbs and really rather bony. The right skin of their faces extended into their arms and necks. From here she could see the small little hairs on their ams though they would be pointless for keeping anyone warm.

But they were powerfully built.

As a biologist, she would have guessed that these creatures were built for a hot desert environment rather than the cold. The thought made her rather uncomfortable. Her home planet had no deserts at all, an the environment was only theoretical based on their observation of other worlds similar in size to their own.

The humans passed by her, leaving her alone.

And, quietly, she moved forward, sneaking through the ship and the warrens of tunnels.

The tunnels were very angular, all of their construction was very angular, ninety degrees or close to ninety degrees.

It was all… odd, and alien, and she found herself lost in the corridors not sure where she was going.

Hot metal was close to burning her feet, sweltering around her.

She felt fent.

Following voice, she peered around the corner and into a large room, where many of the creatures sat together huddled in groups consuming unknown alien food. Behind them, a large viewing window stared out into blackness. She closed her eyes tight and took a deep breath. She felt sick.

It was just so hot.

When no one was looking, she slipped inside and back behind a long countertop and snuck along the side unil….. Until she felt a waft of cold air. She paused and turned her head towards a large silver door. She inched forward and pressed up against it. It was like ice, so cold. In desperation she reached up to the door and popped it open to a waft of freezing air.

In relief, she scampered inside and closed the door behind her sliding to the ground in relief as the biting air rushed through her fur.

She was feeling a little better now, and looking around her, she could see stacks and stacks of crates full of…. strange …. Food?”

She would assume it was food. WIth everything so hot here, they must need a palace to preserve their organic materials from decomposition.

She inched forward across the floor and stuck her head around through some of the crates sniffing at its contents. She would…. Probably be able to eat something here if she was careful about it. She was an omnivore like the creatures, and assumed that they were both based on the same principles of food consumption.

Either way, she was going to figure it out soon to her detriment or not.

This strange frozen storage was going to become her main base of operations, though she did find another location near the medical bay. That one was a little less pleasant though since, from the scientific equipment lying around, she made the correct assumption that they used it to store bodies when someone died aboard the ship.

A morbid thought, but it made sense.

She would stick with hiding in the freezer for the time being.

There Was food there, and no dead people.

From her vantage point sneaking in and out of her hiding space, she was able to watch the creatures from a distance, sure they weren’t putting on a show for her and knowing that their behavior was genuine. As far as she could tell they were social and relatively tame.

They sat in groups, conversed and talked like any one of her people, except maybe a bit more enthusiastically.

They ate together and played games.

And even had the same sort of reactions with other species.

There were a few fuzzy looking aliens that weren’t far off from her species, though they seemed more used to the heat.

Then there were the small scaly creatures, who were just as social, and the large beasts with six arms, towering over even their human counterparts.

From the shadows she watched them as they fought each other with sharpened sticks made from metal their ferocity scaring her as she pressed back into the shadows.

It was a strange an eclectic place of many different peoples.

She saw religion, and culture and tradition as she watched from the shadows.

But she also saw ferocity, anger, and bitterness on quiet occasions, listening in on moments she knew to be private but could not help but listen in on.

And there was something, strange, about the humans.

She wouldn’t have been able to put into words if asked but…. It seemed as if they were disconnected from themselves, like a driver pilots a machine, one with it but no in the same. It was so strange, the sudden blankness that would come over their faces as if nothing was behind the eyes, especially in quiet moments when they were alone with themselves.

She spent days like this, hours on end watching them from a distance hiding in the freezer when it was dark and spending occasion out in the heat.

She used bags of ice shoved into bags to keep herself cool on these forays as the ship always remained rather hot.

She hoped that, in this way she could survive, worried she would be punished if they found her out.

That was until one day.

One day sitting in the air ducts watching the humans pass by that she heard a sound.

A soft scraping.

She turned her head towards the end of the small maintenance tunnel, just as a figure cme around the corner.

It was small, and furry, and brightly colored, and as soon as it came around the corner it froze and locked eyes with her.

Its ears trembled.

She went to run.

“Run and die.” it said eyes narrowing, and despite how small and fluffy it was, shefroze.

She didn’t know what this thing could do, and it didn’t seem concerned with her.

So, Yeb believed it.

She believed she was going to die.

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thanksjro · 3 years

Text

More Than Meets the Eye #32 - Nobody’s Ever Actually Dead in Comic Books

Our band of merry guys-who-weren’t-on-the-Lost-Light-in-issue-#1 approach the shattered husk of the Lost Light, in a gruesome scene that is only slightly marred by the graphic design.

Font doesn’t really suggest danger, does it? Here, for comparison, is something I slapped together in fifteen minutes (including recreation of background) using a font I got off a free font site.

Now, one could say that my version is rather derivative, flat, and arguably cliche, but you know what else it is? Appropriate for the fucking mood of having found a destroyed, hemorrhaging ship after everyone you knew disappeared.

I’m available, IDW! Hit me up.

Theorizing that this is the ship that the Coffin Rodimus came from- remember that? It was a few issues ago- the gang flies in for a closer look. The ship blood is actually something called quantum foam, which allows for quantum space travel to happen. It’s not supposed to be outside of the quantum quills, but the ship’s pretty junked up, so it is.

Because the ship is so very full of holes, the gang can set down for repairs pretty easy. They land in Swerve’s, finding it in less-than-pristine condition. They also find evidence of Crosscut having gotten creative, as a poster for the play he was working on is hung up in the room. Considering he was still writing it when he disappeared, this might seem a bit odd. But then you remember that this is a ship from the future, and it stops being so odd.

Because this is a future ship, with evidence that Crosscut did some stuff, it stands to reason that, at some point, everyone is going to come back from being disappeared.

Just to die.

Which is a bummer, but one crisis at a time.

Megatron disembarks the Rod Pod, with Ravage following, and everyone is just a touch put off by the duo. Everyone but Nautica, who proceeds to commit a microaggression.

Nautica, that’s Soundwave’s father you’re petting like a common animal.

Ravage, angered by this over-familiarity, swats at her. Skids questions letting an active Decepticon roam around, but Megatron brushes off these concerns, saying that finding any still-living crew members is more important. With that, the search begins.

The gang splits up to look for clues, despite Riptide thinking this is a horrible idea. They’re on the clock for this one- the quantum foam is liable to explode if it touches anything, and there’s an awful lot of the stuff floating around right now.

Nightbeat and Nautica leave the rest of the group to their own work, seeing as Nautica has the most appropriate alt-mode for traversing the gaps in the ship.

Man, that’s pretty cool. Wish Nautica hadn’t been regulated to being “girl best friend” for her character arcs, I would have loved to see her do some neat stuff for her own development. Guess that’s what happens when you get introduced as main cast late, and have to compete with all the faves who had dozens of issues to be established and who also don’t have to deal with the whole “token girl character” thing.

The rest of the gang- Megatron, Ravage, Riptide, Skids, and Getaway- start looking in the area they’re already in. Seems a little lopsided, but whatever.

Ravage finds someone almost immediately, identifying Ultra Magnus through smell alone. Only, it isn’t just Ultra Magnus.

The Magnus armor lays not terribly far away, having had its hands cut off to prevent the recall signal from being activated before being gut-murdered.

Gut-murdered wiTH A FUSION CANNON, MEGATRON

Of course, Megatron was forced to destroy his fusion canon after it was decided he would be joining the Lost Light, but you can buy these things off the black market like it’s nothing. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if Brainstorm had a few stashed in his lab.

As it currently stands, nobody can trust the guy who has a storied past of killing Autobots, on a future ship where the only folks who could stop him are dead. Megatron, at least, has the good sense to not argue this fact, and suggests that the boys lock both Ravage and himself up until they suss out exactly what happened.

Meanwhile, over with Nautica and Nightbeat, we run through all the weird shit that’s happened in the last day or so.

Nautica, you’ve been on this ship for months now. How did you miss the fact that the only couple within 800 miles got annihilated by way of Phase Sixer? I feel like that attack might have come up at some point.

Since they’re on the subject of spouses, Nightbeat asks Nautica if she’s married, or if she has friends. Though noting that such a direct line of questioning might get him slapped with someone else, Nautica reveals that she is single, though she does have a best friend. Nightbeat is also single, probably because he pulls shit like this.

While this conversation is going on, Nautica uses her Sonic Screwdriver wrench to open a door with the literal push of a button. Brainstorm tricked out her wrench so hard it turned into a magic wand, which is good, because they’re going to need all the help they can get now that space is literally warping around them thanks to the quantum foam.

Nautica kicks something on the elevator, and that something turns out to be Brainstorm’s mysterious briefcase. Too bad Swerve is gone, he was so invested in what it contained. Luckily, Nightbeat is just as interested.

Back over on the other side of the ship, it seems as though Megatron kept his word about not resisting, as both he and Ravage have been locked in a cabinet. Wonder how that’s going for them.

Oh, better than I expected.

Ravage is fucking pissed that Megatron joined the Autobots, thereby turning his back on everyone who supported his cause during the last four million years. Despite this grievous betrayal though, the Decepticons haven’t stopped moving. Turns out, Galvatron’s in charge now.

But only if Autobot Megatron isn’t some sort of ploy.

It’s at this point that we learn just why Ravage is here to begin with- to see if Megatron’s truly given up the Decepticons, and if he has, to murder him. But first he’d like to know why this is happening.

Megatron views himself as a monster, having perpetuated a war that ended the lives of billions, destroyed the Cybertronian way of life, ostracized his race from the rest of the universe, and killing just to have something to do. He doesn’t like feeling this way about himself, so he decided to walk away from that life by joining the other team.

Don’t think it’s quite that easy to do, but okay.

Ravage isn’t so sure that this change of heart is going to stick, still convinced that Megatron will snap back to his old self with just a bit more time. Problem is, Megatron may not have a ton of that resource left.

Didn’t they build that body in like an hour so you wouldn’t die? Yeah, no wonder it feels as ill-fitting as a twenty-dollar suit. Thing’s probably made out of pig iron and duct tape.

The lights come on before further self-reflection can be done, and the duo realize that they’ve had guests this whole time.

Someone put the kettle on.

Obviously some fucked up shit happened on this ship. Megatron isn’t so sure that it’s him who did these dirty deeds, however, as he reaches into Ratchet’s mouth and pulls out his brain. Which feels like something that doesn’t really absolve one of guilt, but okay.

Also, ew.

Back with Nautica and Nightbeat, things are getting weird.

Now, this sequence might seem confusing at first blush, but this is because the laws of reality are collapsing around them. Going by clues in the background, we can find the proper, linear progression of time, and thus is conversation. This is what is actually happening:

With the mystery of Brainstorm’s briefcase eluding us once again, we move on to see more graphic aftermaths of violence. Poor Tailgate has been nailed to the wall with a chunk of a metal beam that’s almost as big as he is. The mood lighting for this scene is gorgeous, but I’ve hit my limit for exposing y’all to gore for this issue, so you’ll just have to trust me on this one. Then they find something even more interesting.

Who’s ready for Under Cold Blue Stars… 2!

Back over on the opposite side of the ship, Riptide’s found something nasty. It’s a bunch of dead bodies!

Including, uh, Pipes.

Who already died a while ago.

Hm.

All the bodies in this room are in their alts, and it looks like they’ve all been shot and drilled into, for some reason. Skids brings up that he had a friend who could identify the placement of any robot’s brain module just by knowing what they turned into. Then he reaches into a corpse to see what the drill-hole’s all about. It makes him sick, though maybe not for the reason you might think. He gets on the phone with Nightbeat, who’s called to tell them that they’ve found Overlord.

Still locked in his weird body harness.

And decapitated.

Megatron is on the other line, calling because he’s figured out the same thing Skids has. Someone paid a visit to this ship. Someone nasty.

The gang regroups, and Nautica gets the basics on the DJD, because I guess nobody’s mentioned them even in passing in the last six months, either.

God, what do they even talk about on this ship? Certainly not their feelings.

The reason that one room was filled with alt-modes was because of Tarn’s addiction to transforming; t-cogs are easier to remove when they’ve been used recently.

We get a quick 4/5ths-page gore-fest, then it’s back to making it all about Megatron.

Maybe you should have thought about that before you FUCKING DEFECTED, YOU POOL NOODLE.

Nightbeat’s beginning to put two and two together. There’s an Overlord in the basement. That shouldn’t be, because Overlord got exploded by Chromedome when he mercy-killed Rewind. Something is off about the past of this ship.

Before he can establish his MTMTE everybody-lives-but-then-dies AU though, the quantum foam fucks with the ship. These sons of guns need to get the hell out of here, pronto.

Oh god, what now?

Ravage smells someone inside the Magnus armor, someone who isn’t a part of the usual nesting doll lineup. Megatron reaches into the Crackerjack box and pulls out one hell of a prize.

HE LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVES

Chromedome would be so thrilled, if he still existed.

#transformers #jro #MTMTE #slaughterhouse #issue 32 #maccadam #Hannzreads #incoming analysis #text post #long post #comic script writing

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chaseatinydream · 3 years

Text

pirate king (39) || atz

You aren’t sure whether you heard her wrongly.

“No?” The word bounces around in your head several times, as if mocking you over and over again. You’re stunned into disbelief. You’ve traveled the ocean, battled a furious storm, got chomped through the arm by a crazy siren, all to be told that the sea witch before you does know everything about who you were before, but is unwilling to tell you?

Your captain scowls, fingers tightening on the hilt of his cutlass as he glares at the sea witch in the eye. “You said that you’d answer her questions.”

She doesn’t flinch in the least, even when he draws the weapon on her. Instead, her eyes merely darken like a stormy sky, and suddenly, the winds around her starts to pick up as if in response to her anger, rising to a whistling howl that whips your hair into your eyes and stings your skin. “Correction. I said that I would answer the questions to the best of my ability. Fortune shines upon you, mortal, that my lady’s blessing protects you. Do not test me. It is only by her grace that you can even step foot on this beach.”

Hongjoong doesn’t back down, cutlass still raised.

“Wait, wait, wait-” You’ve been completely ignoring their little face off for the last few minutes, trying to fully understand what on earth is happening. You want to rip out your hair and scream, but now’s not the time for that. “Why… Why?”

Eldoris’ expression remains completely neutral, as if her features have been carved from stone. Her pokerface could give San’s a run for its money any day.

“I agreed to answer all the questions you had for me within my power. This one is one I cannot answer.”

Your face goes flat as you battle to keep from swearing in front of this supposedly powerful sea witch, you’re tempted to smack her in the face and shake her back and forth, screaming in her face. The words tumble out of your words before you can stop them.

“So you know about me before I got into this body,” you gesture to yourself frantically, “and you know how I came to be in it, you also know why I lost my memories, but you just don’t feel like telling me?”

The last words are spat out with fury and for a moment, you swear you can see the sea witch flinch a little, guilt flitting across her face. But she breathes in deeply and answers your question with an even voice.

“I wish to help you in any way I can, but I cannot tell you the answer to this.”

She’s as unhelpful at answering your questions as San when it comes to steering the ship and you literally on the verge of throwing a hysterical fit when something finally strikes as odd at the way she has replied to you so far.

“You won’t tell me…” You ask hesitantly, studying her face for a change of each expression. “Or you can’t tell me?”

At that, her shoulders relax slightly, as if relieved that you’ve finally gotten it. She nods, neutral expression closest to earnest you’ve ever seen.

“I cannot.”

You feel like you’ve been smacked across the face with a dead fish.

“Then can you tell me why you cannot?”

Those words seem to lift a weight of her shoulders, even though the light in her eyes remain grim as ever when she nods once more. The next words that leave her mouth have you even more shocked than you were before.

“I am bound by an unbreakable oath to my mistress with my very soul as collateral.” She says softly, each word serious as grave. Your eyes widen in stunned disbelief. “To not reveal or impart knowledge of who you were before you came to be in this body to you, or anyone else, no matter how desperately they beg for it, in case you ever regain your memories.”

What? Her soul as collateral?

“Wait… this mistress you’re talking about…” You force out, trying desperately not to hyperventilate. This is honestly getting too crazy for your brain to handle. “Who is she?”

At those words, a proud gleam comes into her eye and she straightens her back, meeting your gaze with a look you don’t quite understand.

“What the mortals call the sea goddess.”

At that, you do choke. You’ve been hearing these terms being thrown around so casually, sea witch, fortune teller, ancient magic, but hearing Eldoris say the words with so much confidence and surety seals everything for you. Magic is real. Then the meaning of what she’s just said hits you like a tidal wave.

“What would the sea goddess want with me? Why does she not want me to regain my memories?” You sputter out, burying your hands in your hair as you try to make sense of it all. Have you offended the sea goddess herself in the past? Is she playing some sort of sadistic joke on you?

But Eldoris merely shakes her head once, her eyes pleading for you to understand.

“It’s for your own good, Chin Hae-” She begins, but you’ve finally had enough. Everything in you snaps like a caving dam and anger floods through you, the wind howling in your ears furiously as the waves break against the reef barrier to swirl around your feet.

“Why? How can losing my memories possibly be for my own good? Curse the sea goddess, I’m going to freaking murder her, I-”

Eldoris’ next words are as clear as the sky.

“If you recover your memories, you’ll die.”

Every part of your body seems to turn to ice simultaneously, blood freezing in your veins as you stare at her, unmoving. Your mind is completely silent except for that one sentence, resounding again and again in your head.

If you recover your memories, you’ll die.

You can barely register Hongjoong’s arms pulling you to him as he tries to reassure you, but his words simply drift past your ears like the whistling of the wind.

You’ll die you’ll die you’ll die-

“What do you mean?” You hear your captain demand, and you desperately try to pull the shreds of your focus together so you can hear her explanation.

Eldoris stares at you gravely.

“Regaining her memories means her death.” The sea witch says gently, a pitying look in her eye as she shakes her head in response to Hongjoong’s question. “A degradation of the physical body that now contains her essence, to be more exact. They are trapped within the body she resides in. If you free them, her body dies too.”

The fortune teller’s words come back to you hauntingly.

You will never find what you so desperately seek as long as you live.

You stare at your own hands in horror. This cursed shell, this body of clay, it’s the thing that’s keeping you apart from your memories? For the first time ever since you discovered you’re a golem, you feel truly hollow, a gaping, empty hole in your chest where your heart lies, where your memories are held.

A muffled scream breaks free from your throat and your knees feel weak, your legs crumple and you hunch over the ground with your hands tearing at your hair. You feel like you want to physically rip your brain from your skull and demand for it to spit out your memories now, because you’d rather regain your memories right this second and die, in comparison to the agony of living the rest of your life without knowing who you are.

Your breath catches as you stare at the cutlass hanging at your side.

Maybe… maybe if you just…

You’re so tempted to, gods, your memories are just within your reach. It’s all you’ve ever wanted the second you woke up, and now you can finally have them. It’s in your grasp. It’s all in your hand.

All you have to do is take it.

Your fingers inch for your cutlass.

“Chin Hae, no!” Hongjoong catches your wrist before you can clench your fingers around the hilt and you’re jerked out of your trance to stare at him, still dazed. His bright green eye is terrified, swallowed by concern and fear, and then a painful, heart wrenching sensation twists in your chest.

Hongjoong’s cries when he endured the whipping for you, the sound of skin tearing with every lash and the metallic scent of blood in the air.

San’s bright smile as he held your hands in his, healing the scrapes on your palms, softly guiding you through each step of the process.

Yeosang’s shudder as three bullets hit him in the back, ripping through his flesh, blood gushing from his wounds.

Mingi’s gaze as he sat with you on that pink, sandy beach, telling you about his captain and crew with a fond smile on his face.

Seonghwa’s laughter as you burnt yet another steak and he ate it anyway with a smile on his face, praising you for your improvement under his tutelage.

Yunho’s sigh when he stood in that crow’s nest with you, the story about him and his brother falling from his lips as the sun rose before you.

Jongho’s chuckle as he swiped a cream bun straight from your hands before popping it into his mouth, laughing at the pout on your face before dropping his cake into your lap.

Wooyoung’s earnest smile as he hands you the silver hairpin with hesitant eyes, your fingers brushing as you stare at it in awe.

Through your tears you laugh in despair, burying your face in your hands. On one hand, ever so enticing, lie your memories, your history, your identity. You so badly want to take it, more than anything else, but on the other hand…

“I name you Choi Chin Hae, family of the ATEEZ crew.”

Your heart splits in two from the sheer pain of the choice you have to make. For a moment, when you close your eyes, you see someone staring back at you in your mind.

It’s the green eyed man.

You’re back on that beach once more, sky dotted with stars. There are tears running down your cheeks as you feel the breath of the wind in your lungs, the steady beating of your heart in your chest for the first time. He smiles at you so fondly as you reach out and hold him close, his hand running through your hair.

“I believe it, I know it, I can see it. I trust that you can make your path the right one. You will find a name deserving of you, given to you by those who love you. Take this and go to the town of Raguza. Your journey begins there.” He whispers into your ear and you nod, sniffling and moving back as he presses a kiss to your temple. Around your shoulders he puts a coat of land cloth, something that has not touched you in millenia. A red rose is embroidered on the back. “Your fate intertwines with a mortal once more.”

You turn towards the sea, one foot touching the waves, and you hesitate. It’s as if your eyes are drawn to him, you glance over your shoulder to meet his gaze one last time. But you cannot linger for long, already you can feel your new body beginning to crumble ever so slowly into clay once more.

He hasn’t moved from the beach, although his smile turns sad.

“You don’t have much time. Go, and don’t look back.”

His name swirls around in your mind like a final memory, before it spirals into the air and vanishes with the wind.

Don’t look back.

Like a breath of air, the vision fades and you’re staring into your captain’s eye once more, his arms tight around you as he begs you desperately again and again not to leave them.

He’s trembling against you, his fingers digging into your wrists as if he’s trying to physically prevent you from doing anything rash. Incoherent mumbles fall from his mouth, all beseeching you to stay, not to do anything foolish, and that’s when you have your answer.

It hurts you so much to give up on your memories like this. But you know, deep within you, that giving up on them would be a fate worse than death.

So, closing your eyes one last time, you imagine the you from before in your mind.

She appears, standing upon the ocean waves as she looks at you in the eye. Both of you are eerily identical, though her skin seems to be luminous and crystal-like as a figment of your imagination, her eyes shifting colours like the mermaid you had seen on the stone wall outside. She smiles at you, a quirk to her mouth that seems both happy and wistful at the same time, her hair flying with the sea breeze as you make your choice. You raise your hand in farewell, reluctance tearing at every fibre of your being.

“Goodbye.”

With those words, she closes her eyes and simply melts away into seafoam, swirling with the waves and disappearing from sight.

“Chin Hae? Chin Hae?” Your captain is shaking you now, and you stare at him for a moment, trying to remember who you are and what you’re doing. Then you see wetness starting to gather at the corners of his eyes and it suddenly hits you.

“I’m not-” The words get caught in your throat, so you pause to swallow and before you try to speak once more. “I’m not… I’m not going to leave all of you behind.”

At that, your captain visibly sags in relief, slumping against you, but it’s nothing compared to the weight that falls from your shoulders. The moment you declared that, it became the truth. You would stay with the crew no matter what. You understand how Seonghwa could leave Nassau behind and stay on the Treasure instead now, because the crew were his family.

Eldoris’ eyes pierce yours like a blade, although something in her seems relieved.

“So, what will you do now?”

You shrug as Hongjoong picks himself off the ground, reaching out a hand to help you up. You take it.

“I’ll go wherever the Treasure goes.” You say, and the words are light, as if you’ve been freed from invisible chains that had been holding you down. Your memories are well and truly out of your grasp, you have no more goal to chase after. Hongjoong takes your hand and squeezes tight, fingers locking with yours.

Eldoris nods, although a little hesitant this time. Her deep blue eyes meet yours.

“I’m glad that you found what you had been searching for this whole time, Choi Chin Hae.” She tells you, but her words are solemn, and something tells you she’s not talking about your memories. You frown, but you’re honestly not in the mood to play anymore mind games with the sea witch.

But you do have one final question you want answered before you leave this island behind you forever.

“The name of the green eyed man… do you know it?”

You at least want to know the name of the mysterious man who has been in your dreams for so long. Eldoris shakes her head, and you feel your heart sink in disappointment.

“He has no name.”

At that, you’re a little startled. He doesn’t have a name? How can anything on this earth not have a name? But the sea witch continues speaking.

“For divine beings such as he, he is omnipresent, the closest thing to all powerful any conscious can reach.” She says the words with such reverence you almost feel like you should bow before her. You flinch at the word divine, brows furrowed in confusion. “But they have no souls as the mortals do, they are merely consciousnesses formed of great power. In the end, when this world dies, they will fade away and cease to exist, even when the souls of humans dwell on forever. Thus they have no names, for they have no imprint upon this world.”

Your heart sinks in your chest as you think of the green eyed man, his gentle smile lingering in your mind. The thought of him simply becoming… nothing… it scares you, even though you barely know him.

“But they do call each other by the words that the Creator called them into existence with.” You startle a little in surprise when the sea witch’s voice takes on an almost melancholy tone. “I cannot speak the words myself with this human tongue, for only creatures created at the beginning of time can, such as the Kraken. I so dearly wish I could do the same and address my mistress with spoken word, but...”

Now you’re just confused.

The sea witch trails off and shakes her head, bringing herself back to the present. “Either way, they have no souls as the humans do, thus they cannot be named. Mortals have attempted to name them many times, but their simple, spoken words can only capture the physical aspect of them. No mortal can ever name a divine being.”

You have absolutely no idea what she’s saying at this point, so you merely nod in an impression of understanding.

“Thank you, Eldoris, for the body you have given me.”

The sea witch pauses and looks at you straight in the eye. Something about the way she’s does so makes you shiver uncomfortably.

“I wish you all the best.” Her eyes burn into yours with the intensity of a million suns. Swallowing uncomfortably, you let Hongjoong take you by the arm and the two of you walk back to the cave, hand in hand.

He squeezes your fingers and you look at him, his eyes gentle on yours.

“What are you going to do now?” He asks again, as if he needs to hear it from your lips once more. You smile at your captain, taking a deep breath as you imagine the faces of all of your crew who are waiting for you back on the ship.

“Let’s go home.”

And the two of you leave the beach behind, never looking back.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #mingi #san #wooyoung #jongho #ateez pirate king #w; ot8 #w; pirate king #w; fanfiction

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fatefulfaerie · 3 years

Text

Mind Control

Febuwhump prompt #1/28

Franchise: The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker

Word Count: 1,210

Link told many tall tales that Tetra did not believe.

And yet it was a habit that was most like the sailor of the seas he had become, exaggerating what he had been through, the sizes of the squids he killed, the numbers involved in the odds against him, how narrowly he escaped with his life, things that made him seem more heroic. Whether or not he was actually telling the truth, or if he had been stretching the truth so long he no longer remembered what was true, it was mostly to impress Tetra, or the other crew-mates.

There was one tale in particular that Tetra had come to tolerate, Link talking about cooperating with the sages Medli and Mako five years ago. Link often said he had “controlled” them, which Tetra interpreted as a mere leadership thing, that he delegated tasks to the Rito and the Korok. It was why she tolerated the tale, because it was so normal and believable in comparison to the others.

But during a crew supper, the subject of paranormal occurrences came up. This crew in particular had their fair share by now, but when mind control came up, every single one of them insisted the feat was impossible except for Link.

“What do you mean ‘no’,” Link said to Tetra, who was sitting next to him. “I talk about it all the time.”

“That’s what you meant by control?!”

“What did you think I meant?”

Link was smiling, that annoyingly charming smile that made his blue eyes gleam. She searched for the fact that his chuckle meant that he perhaps was joking, but it seems that his smile meant he was laughing at her.

“Oh goddesses my boyfriend really is crazy,” she said under her breath, straight-faced.

“I’m not crazy,” Link said as he stood up, taking out his sparkling silver baton given to him by the King of Red Lions.

Yet as soon as he did, the rest of the crew started to clear out almost immediately, shoveling the rest of their meals into their mouths as they rushed out to their suddenly important duties. Link lowered his arms with disappointment, sporting a frown.

Tetra was still sitting down, but she was facing away from the table, leaning on it with bent elbows, lounging back as she watched her subordinates leave.

She was laughing to herself until she turned her head back to Link, who was unamused. Her smile faded.

“I’m not laughing at you,” she said with shakes of her head. “I’m laughing at those cowards. They say they don’t believe in mind control and then as soon as you threaten them with it, the duties they were complaining about above deck are suddenly not so tiring. Really I should be thanking you.”

“You’re welcome,” Link said in reply. “But do you really not believe me?”

Tetra shrugged.

“It could be true,” she said. “I mean we’ve seen a lot of crazy things.” She stood up, facing Link and crossing her arms. “But I’m going to need some proof.”

“You want me to control you?”

Tetra held up her arms in surrender.

“Do your worst,” Tetra said. “Unless of course you can’t manage it.”

Link was hesitant as he lifted his hands, the baton in his left hand leaving a trail of glimmering sparkles as he did. His eyes swam in trepidation of controlling his girlfriend of all people before his eyelids shut. He took a deep breath in and out to focus himself, to concentrate on the song necessary to prove he was telling the truth. The Command Melody and how to conduct the lingering winds to submit to his will seemed to flow like another muscle to Link.

Right

Center

Left

Center

Pretty soon it was as if he had stepped outside himself, Link seeing himself with closed eyes and hands moving as if he were pushing away an invisible mist.

“How is that supposed to do anything?” He heard Tetra say, although it came from the throat of the body he was in.

In control of Tetra’s body, Link started to dance around.

“Wait? What’s happening? Link! Stop what you are doing this instant!”

Link stopped making Tetra dance, and she sighed.

“Thank you, now-whoa!”

He had made her start to walk toward the ladder, Tetra climbing it and heading towards the deck of the ship.

“Link!” She exclaimed. “Where are you taking me?!”

She could already see the stairs that led to her cabin.

“Link, no stop,” she pleaded. “I get it, I believe you.” But she kept walking, soon facing Nudge, who guarded Tetra’s cabin. Her lips parted.

“Miss Tetra?” Nudge asked. “Would you like to enter your cabin?”

“Y-yes,” Tetra said, assuming that since she had stopped, Link was taking her here. For what purpose, she had no idea. Link had been in her cabin tons of times before today.

Nudge stepped aside, but instead of making her enter, Tetra found herself walking back down the stairs.

“O-on second thought I think I’ll go back down,” she said covering up for the fact that she was in absolutely no control over her actions.

Pretty soon she was facing Link again and silently thought of ways to get back at him for his malfeasance before she thought of the perfect one.

As soon as Link relinquished control over Tetra, the pirate captain collapsed to floor.

Link’s eyes widened immediately and he rushed to her side, sitting on his heels.

“Tetra!” He said completely panicked as he brought her drooping body into his arms. “Tetra, wake up!” He shouted. “Oh goddesses what have I done? Tetra!”

Link’s forehead sank down to meet hers.

“Please,” he said, starting to sob. His shoulders heaved and his breath hiccuped “Please wake up, I…I’m so sorry. I didn’t think you would…”

His broke voice as he cried, not seeing Tetra’s smirk. It was scary how good she was at playing dead.

“I accept your apology,” she said, which terrified Link at how sudden it was. He half-screamed as he leaned away, sitting up.

Tetra opened her eyes laughing and Link tipped his head shaking it as he figured it out.

“You jerk!” He said, playfully shoving her and starting to laugh as well. “I was so worried!”

“Good,” she said.

She tackled him the floor so that she was on top and pretty soon they were rolling around on the wooden planks, each getting the upper hand and then switching, all the while laughing all the way. It was a playful wrestling match for at least a few minutes until in a single millisecond Link stopped completely.

Tetra was on top of him but he made no effort to change it. Tetra voiced no opposition, simply staring down at him and panting, her mussed and tangled hair spilling down onto him.

She placed her weight on her elbows as she melted her lips into his, their breaths becoming one as Link entangled his fingers into her blonde hair.

The two stayed like that until the ship was rocked by a rather strong wave, tipping the ship and making them fall out of their romantic embrace, their locked lips.

Their blushed cheeks, however, would stand to last the rest of the night.

#febuwhump #febuwhump2021 #febuwhumpday1 #zelink #telink #tetra #link #tloz #tww #the legend of zelda #the wind waker #it's a few years after phantom hourglass too

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spockandawe · 3 years

Note

Bingqiu

HELL YEAH HELL YEAH

Downsides:

I’m not a... huge fan of the pov character being like ‘i’m not gay, tho! i’m not!’ even though I do think it gets resolved in a fairly timely way. And it fits with Shen Qingqiu’s oblivious personality, haha. But in this case, how do I put this. It played not-great with the book’s pacing (uneven, but I don’t really mind) and a central conceit that I like a lot, which is that our main character spends quite some time convinced that his love interest wants him dead.

I don’t necessarily need the book to linger, directly over relationship development for me to be into it, and I absolutely LOVE a dynamic where one person is like ‘hah, you want me dead’ and has to realize they have things very backwards. But in this case, by the time Shen Qingqiu is coming around to ‘oh, you don’t want me dead!’ he slides right into the ‘but i’m straight!’ side track, and by the time he becomes willing to consider that maybe he’s less straight than previously assumed, we’re practically at the fuck or die climax of the novel.

Which isn’t terrible, I honestly adore this relationship. And I do think that binghe’s breakdown over seeing that he fucked shen qingqiu hits much harder if he still feels 100% insecure that his shizun wants him around, period. But I do sometimes wish that we’d gotten a little more opportunity for them to be... platonically-close-with-background-slow-mo-queer-awakening, if you know what I mean.

Upsides:

Oh lord, it’s hard to know what to say here, because the accurate response is Everything. Let’s see. Well, to start with, I adore the emotional high of reading a relationship that starts on such unstable footing (maigu ridge) and works itself out in the end (that marriage extra tho). Reading about Binghe being so unhappy and lonely and insecure and then being loved will never stop doing it for me.

Usually, a teacher/student dynamic would be not my favorite, but something about the shizunfucker genre clicks well with me for some reason. Especially for a student like Luo Binghe, where we’re told about how much he suffered as a child, and how alone he was, and all the ways that original flavor Shen Qingqiu mistreated him, because then, it opens the door to such an intense adoration of a teacher that treats him well and takes care of him. I haven’t read a shixiong/shidi book that plays with quite same themes, but I don’t think it would hit me in quite the same way (yuwu goes there a little, but even though the ship is great, it's not THIS kind of adoration). There’s something about ships with this sort of intense codependence that really work for me, and this book absolutely nails that.

But also, the power dynamics in here are FASCINATING to me. Erha is the main point of shizunfucker comparison that I have, which really is too small of a sample size to judge from. But I don’t think I’d like either of these as much if the teacher was also the driving force behind the relationship. I don’t just mean that in a top/bottom way, but more pursuer vs pursuee. And to go with that, I do also like how hard Binghe has to pursue to get anywhere with Shen Qingqiu. I like... suffering XD As long as it ends happily. And this book really delivers. Tgcf is romantic and all, but I can’t personally conceptualize eight hundred years. I have trouble visualizing 13/16 years. But three years, then five years? I can picture that, and it hurts. The dream flashback where Binghe is telling Shen Qingqiu that he can’t go on....... that hit me right in the stomach.

Also too, not canon-based, because even if it’s a standard genre feature, I don’t have much patience for strict gong/shou roles, but... For a character as needy as Binghe, this is a situation where I absolutely have no trouble setting aside what the book says and substituting a different reality. And I do love me a pair of switches. And I also love me a boy who is very enthusiastic about sex, and very, very bad at it, which is canon, which delights me. The neediness in this relationship, and binghe’s CLEAR room for growth make me much more interested in exploring a post-canon relationship than I tend to be for the other relationships (caveat: i am still prodding at new depths of hua cheng’s issues, and am much more interested than i used to be, but binghe still fascinates me more)

And this may sound weird, but..... I love me a manipulative, needy love interest. It’s real easy for it to play badly, and it’s real easy for it to leave a bad taste in my mouth, but bingqiu works really well for me. It adds tasty tension before the relationship is established, and once the relationship is established and Shen Qingqiu is well aware that Binghe will cry at the drop of a hat, I still love love love to see him folding like a damp paper towel anyways. It’s a flaw, but it’s a flaw that adds depth and flavor to their relationship that I really, really adore.

Okay, I’m losing coherence here. But I just have to copy one excerpt, I just. I love them so, so much.

Shen Qingqiu said, “The way you called ‘shishu’ was too insincere. From now on, don’t call him that.”

Resentfully, Luo Binghe said, “When he calls me a little brute or a thankless wretch, he’s sincere enough.”

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t resist laughing at that. His folding fan was sitting beside the couch, and he picked it up to give Luo Binghe a few taps on the head. “Was he wrong? You dare lay your wolf claws on this teacher’s body? If you’re not a little brute, then what are you?”

The words came too smoothly, and he himself hadn’t realized that this was pushing the bounds of propriety. The tail end of his words lifted the corner of his mouth, in a way that was frivolous yet heavy, a bit coquettish, and extremely undignified.

Luo Binghe looked down at him from above. Watching Shen Qingqiu beneath him, he felt some sort of fire beginning to burn wildly in his heart and stomach. He subconsciously moved to place a leg between Shen Qingqiu’s knees, but suddenly afraid he’d be kicked off the bamboo couch, he quickly dropped his head down to let Shen Qingqiu swat him with his fan to his heart’s content. “Even if I am a little brute, then I’m only Shizun’s little brute. Other people can’t call me that.”

#svsss #bingqiu #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #ask memes/#spock replies #long post/#Anonymous

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jasontoddiefor · 3 years

Text

Title: [VLOG] so you found an assassin droid Summary: More of that “Luke and Vader meet over space twitter” AU :D

Twin Suns @/skyseekerpilot Can anybody tell me if it's illegal to own an HK-77 droid? Thanks :D

Still here @/vicTORI-is-here What did you do????

Bigg Dreams @/darkestlight More like what did he make me carry home

Scrap Hunting @/scraphunting Scrap Hunting has uploaded a new video! Click HERE to watch it!

L31a @/ThePrincessHerself Omg new video???

The video started with two boys sitting on a workbench, slowly drinking tea from two mismatched cups.

"So," Luke spoke up, interrupting the silence. "I want to start this off by saying that I am absolutely innocent and have not broken any galactic laws."

Next to him, Biggs just looked up at the ceiling and pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is Hutt Space. What kriffing galactic laws?"

Then, quicker than he could stop it, Luke dug his extremely sharp elbow into Biggs' side, causing him to yelp. Unbothered by his friend rubbing his side all while hissing, Luke continued speaking.

"Anyway! Welcome to a new episode of Scrap Hunting! We sure gained a lot of following since our last video, so we thought we'd do a bit of a different thing this time around?"

Luke laughed nervously as white writing behind his dead proclaimed having gained thousands of followers and being just a little overwhelmed by it all.

"A lot of you were interested in seeing where we get our materials and what our set up to the actual repairs is, so we figured it was time for a vlog?"

A little helplessly, Luke looked at Biggs, but his friend only shrugged in turn. They weren't exactly sure whether it counted as a vlog, they had never really done it before.

"In any case! We brought you something special today, so feel free to follow the journey that led us to this. If you enjoy this format, be sure to tell us."

After these words, Luke leaned forward and picked something up that was out of the video frame. He sat up again and held something large and round and metal in his hands that, after taking a second look, revealed itself as a droid head.

"So here's the story of how we found an HK-77 droid, which we will now start repairing. Have fun!"

Biggs loved Luke; he really did. They had known each other their entire lives, but there was no doubting that his best friend was absolutely insane. From racing in Beggar's Canyon at a young age to breaking into a scrapyard in the middle of the night.

"We are so gonna get caught," Biggs hissed. Nervously, he looked around as Luke dug through the mountains of trash. He made sure to keep the recorder on Luke to catch it for their channel. If they were going to get arrested for this, it had to be worth it, at least.

"Nope, it'll be just fine," Luke replied and triumphantly pulled something that used to be part of a hyperdrive out of the mountain. Immediately, waves of junk rolled down, clattering on the ground and causing much more noise than Biggs was comfortable with.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yeah, I can feel it," Luke replied absentmindedly as he inspected the hyperdrive.

The video switched back to the workshop where the duo was reassembling the droid. "Fun fact," Biggs said, leaning over the half-assembled droid. "Luke spent too much time out in the sun as a toddler. When he tells you that he has a feeling? It's true 90% of the time."

Then Biggs's eyes widened as if he had just had a realization, his head whipped into Luke's direction. "Do you think you could get me the lottery numbers?"

Luke pulled his arm out of the droid's torso to stare blankly at Biggs. "Do I look like I can?"

"I don't know, can you?"

Luke opened his mouth to reply, then he stopped and closed it again with a frown on his face. "I don't think so," he said slowly. "We should try it out."

The video froze momentarily as a text block appeared, reading: It doesn't work.

"He can feel it, he says," Biggs muttered, kicking a rusty pipe. "This sounds insane, you know that, right?"

"Absolutely- hey! Look at that!"

Biggs turned the camera up towards the part of the trash heap Luke was pointing at there. There, in the middle of old ship parts, was a hand.

Not that of a sentient, of course.

"Looks like a droid," Biggs said, studying it with interest. "Do you think you can get it?"

"Obviously."

The video cut back to the workshop where Luke was welding the head of the droid back to its body, goggles hiding away his face. "I want it on record that I did, in fact, get the droid. It's here. On the table. It went successfully."

Biggs just grinned and leaned back, arms crossed. "Do you guys want to know how many takes it took him? Twenty-"

"Don't you dare edit this in!" Luke protested, pointing tool threateningly at Biggs, but the other boy was entirely unbothered.

Take 1

"Right, I can just step in here-"

He could not.

Take 2

Luke was trying to climb up over what used to be the wings of a ship. He slipped.

Take 3

From a different point than before, Luke attempted to jump up to the next platform.

He failed again.

Take 10

"Just one more try. I swear I got it," Luke insisted.

"Uhu." Biggs only nodded and examined his nails. "Do you want me to grab it? I'm a bit taller than you."

"Eat a bantha, Biggs."

Take 16

"Okay, so if I climb on your shoulders-"

"And who is going to hold the camera?"

"… Good point. This is why we need an assistant."

Take 20

Luke was half up the scrap hill when his right foot suddenly lost grip and he slipped again, catching himself only in the last minute and permanently scaring Biggs, who was holding the camera with shaky hands, for life.

"Okay, this is fine, he can do this. No need to worry. He'll get it."

"Thanks for the encouragement," Luke hissed as he pulled himself up.

"You're not the one who will have to explain to Beru Whitesun-Lars why her nephew looks like he was in a fight."

Slowly, Luke turned around just so that he could give Biggs a look. "My aunt has seen me in worse states."

"Doesn't mean she isn't terrifying."

Luke couldn't disagree with that sentiment. "True."

Back in the workshop, Luke was setting aside schematics while miserably looking through his wire collection.

"I hate you so much," Luke sighed and started connecting the droid's artificial nerves to one another.

"Nope, you don't," Biggs said and set another cup of tea next to Luke. "Alright, what's the plan for this baby?"

Luke grinned. "I'm glad you asked! Time for a little summary, I guess."

The video changed so that Luke and Biggs were still standing in the workshop, but the background had been edited to be a whiteboard. While the two teenagers in the frame continued working on the droid, and a voiceover of Luke's voice could be heard.

"Alright, so what Biggs and I found here is an HK-777 Assassin droid. This droid was developed by the Separatists towards… The end of the Clone Wars?"

A little unsure, Luke looked over to Biggs.

"Yep," Biggs agreed as on the white background the words Clone Wars appeared, and beneath that an image of the symbol of the CIS as well as the droid. "However, they haven't seen any real combat or at least much of it? They're being used by the Empire now."

The image of the CIS was crossed out and got replaced by that of the Galactic Empire.

"Now, it's important to know that the HK-77 droids are generally considered to be the best of the HK-series ever developed by the Separatists," Luke said. "Obviously, I have opinions on that – but more on that later. Let's talk a bit more history first."

The image of the HK-77 droid shrunk as four more droid models showed up on the video. All of them looked similar to the HK-77 one, though by far not as elegant.

"So, the HK-77 model was preceded by the HK-47, HK-57, HK-58, and HK-67 models. As you can see by the size comparison here, it's a bit shorter than the other models, allowing for greater maneuverability and being less noticeable."

At this comment, Biggs snorted. "It's still built like a kriffing tank, and from what I'm seeing here on the memory banks?" Biggs held up the datapad he was working on. Cables connected it to the droid's memory bank. "Uh, yeah, not noticeable was not it's preferred method. Assassin droid is obviously a misnomer. They should have called it trigger-happy bastard."

"Don't be so mean to him," Luke said and gently pet the droid's detached arm. "Don't listen to him. He doesn't understand."

"He can't even hear me."

"Be silent, heathen."

"I got it!" Luke exclaimed and began to pull at the droid's body. Slowly, more and more of its body emerged until suddenly its whole frame fell out of the trash and Luke with it. Cursing, Biggs dropped the camera. After this, only a lot of clattering and shouting could be heard, no clear image being visible, only various dark splotches. The video only continued when Biggs went to pick up the camera. Some time must have passed as Luke was sitting on the ground, nursing his injuries while simultaneously examining the droid. "I think we found something good here."

"Yeah, can something good also walk on its own?"

"Doesn't look like it," Luke commented, poking the droid's joints, which promptly fell apart.

"Great," Biggs replied and ran his fingers through his hair. "Can you walk on your own?"

"Yeah, think so." Experimentally, Luke stood up, wincing only slightly. "Okay, yes, I can walk, but you'll have to carry the droid."

Biggs rolled his eyes exasperatedly, but you could tell that he was obviously relieved that Luke was well.

"He did, in fact, make me carry the droid back home," Biggs stated, still examining the droid's coding. "Carry it to the speeder, go back for the other parts and then drive him and all his stuff home and unload it, and then drive back to my place and explain to my parents what I was doing at three in the morning."

Now Luke actually looked a little guilty. "They didn't say anything-"

"No," Biggs shook his head. "I told them I was with you and they just sighed. Are the optical sensors working?"

Luke took the droids sensors and connected them with what would be the eye sockets in humans. "It should now. Test it."

Biggs typed something on his datapad, then nodded. "Yep, it's working. So, to continue our lesson: As you can see, the HK-77 has a narrow head and two optical sensors."

As he said that, Luke pointed at the relevant parts.

"First thing I'd improve if I were to build an assassin droid," Luke chimed in. "It's just impractical that it doesn't have 360° sight."

"Wouldn't that lead to sensory overload?" Biggs questioned. "All these protocols, and jeez, I want to meet who wrote this because this code sure is something."

"Maybe," Luke replied, deep in thought. "You'd have to make space for larger memory banks. I'm just saying, if I were to code a droid like this, it wouldn't be so bad."

"Not doubting that. But while we're already at it, Luke, you wanna handle the body parts?"

"Sure!"

Luke brushed his hands off on his pants, though that didn't make them any cleaner. "Alright, we already mentioned that the HK-77 was the Separatist's golden bantha. To continue, it came in two variants: assault droids and squad leaders. They look identical, but squad leaders are obviously more intelligent. What we have here-"

Putting emphasis on the last word, Luke opened his arms wide, then gestured at the droid lying on the bench. "-is a squad leader! Which is great because that means he can be useful in the future and help us out in the workshop. It has blaster riffles integrated into its arms."

Here Luke lifted one arm up, shaking it slightly. "Though these aren't functional anymore. We'll replace those with proper hands and fire extinguishers. Next up, we will change the plating to be more heat resistant so that he'll actually be capable of helping out on the farm and in the workshop. We should add a smoldering iron as well. The overall cost of such a droid in peak condition is- "Luke stopped talking to look down on something. After a second look, he lifted a datapad close to his nose, where he frowned at the numbers. "Huh. That's a lot of cash. Maybe we should sell it."

"I think that's mostly because of the state secrets such droids can keep. They also work as bodyguards. But this droid's memory is fried, so it's useless. And if somebody left it on Tatooine, it probably can't be that valuable," Biggs intersected.

Luke nodded slowly. "True. In any case, this concludes our discussion of how the assassin droid works. Tune in next time to see how we actually overhaul it."

"And done," Biggs breathed and dropped the droid in the back of the speeder. "Are you sure this will be worth it?"

"Absolutely," Luke replied.

"I'll be trusting you on this then, kid," Biggs replied.

The video turned black, then returned to the image of the empty workshop with white writing.

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#star wars #Luke Skywalker #biggs darklighter #scrap hunters au #fanfic

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