#<- debates to be had about how much of that is masking for both characters BUT STILL.
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monoceroscaeli · 1 year ago
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every time i see the smaller and/or more feminine member of a gay male pairing drawn as a bunny in ship art i lose like five years off of my life
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deikshen · 4 months ago
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The idea of Shang Qinghua as a fallen God was hitting me HARD-
I mean, he was some kind of civil God in the heavens, even then recognized for his prose, for the epic tales that would later become a reality, giving him the title of prophet, "The God who sees Beyond Time", "The God Who Inks the Pages of Destiny."
He rose from the lowest ranks as an adjunct god to an important position, becoming one of the most recognized and venerated civil gods of the heavens -he always responded to all the offerings, the one who appeared most in dreams, the one who solved the most situations with his own hands. The civil god with the most temples, the one to whom incense and prayers were given before the imperial exams, the one to whom even those learning to write gave small offerings in search of his erudition to learn faster.
So, something happened. Did he betray the heavens? It was discovered that he had risen to his position through corrupt means? Did he get into a debate with some vengeful martial god? The stories could be many, but the result is always the same: the civil god fell. Where he once had hundreds of temples, now they didn't even offer him incense. And Shang Qinghua, there, bored, was simply... tired. People remembered him for his stories, so he could never know the sweet embrace of death. Turned into a folk tale, his own stories, written in his own hand, being repeated and reproduced in theaters for centuries. When would this martyrdom end?
Never, apparently. And Shang Qinghua writes. He writes stories that are replicated across civilizations. He sees entire demonic races born and die. He writes about an emperor of the three realms, a heavenly demon, with a harem of beauties, a destiny, a prophecy surrounding a sword, and that only pure love could save martyred hearts blackened by fear and misunderstanding.
And after a few centuries, finally finds an artifact that will make him forgotten. He's tired. Fed up. It's been a long millennium of loneliness. Shang Qinghua collects every story he ever wrote, hides them in a deep cave, keeps them away from mortals. He burns his abandoned temples. He burns his stories, making everyone forget that there ever was a God who inks the pages of destiny.
And he dies. Finally.
Half a millennium later, Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe are on a hike. Some silly honeymoon thing, traveling the world and finding rare beasts and beautiful non-lethal plants. It's an area that was never originally described in PIDW, but Shen Qingqiu is curious; the world is vast, exquisite, stretching out with magnificent magic. And he wants to know everything.
Then he accidentally gets trapped in a silly array and opens a cave. Luo Binghe follows him, desperate, but both of them... well, even if they wanted to leave without investigating, they never could!! It seems to have been closed for a long, long time.
That's how they find a scholar's hiding place. Or so they think. Stacks and stacks of scrolls. Paintings, theater robes, masks. In the middle of the investigation, Shen Qingqiu's breath catches in his throat when, in the characters from a scroll, he reads Xin Mo.
It is difficult to understand the characters ruined by time, but the story is clear. There are prophetic legends about Xin Mo, about Luo Binghe himself (without mentioning his name other than "a baby who emerged from the Luo River with a frozen heart"), and so many, so many things... Shen Qingqiu is perplexed. What the hell is up with all this? Why was it hidden? Who wrote it? Damn, Airplane owes him some VERY good answers.
In his study in the northern palace, Shang Qinghua begins to have a very strong headache. He should go to sleep, he probably strained his eyes too much with all the paperwork, but, uh, for some reason, he really, really want to write something. An idea is starting to form in his head, like when he wrote PIDW in his other life! Maybe it'll be his next bestseller!! He has to seize the opportunity and inspiration when it hits him!!
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dollab1llz · 2 months ago
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Two rising stars meet for the first time. The chemistry is instant. Whether it’s good or dangerous… that’s up for debate.
actress!ellie williams x actress!reader
more chapters coming out soon!
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The room is cold in that expensive, clinical way. Filtered water and pastries that no one touches placed together in a singular round table in the corner of the room. A long, glossy table stretched across the centre of the room. Everyone’s seated - producers, directors, writers and some of the cast.
With the forty million dollar budget they knew the leads had to be perfect.
You were there early; hair perfectly curled, script neatly tabbed and highlighted. Professional, bright and polished just like you always were.
Then the door swung open, hard enough to make the hinges groan but not loud enough to be rude just deliberate. Intentional. You finally looked up from your script and there she was.
Ellie Williams.
She was taller than expected, she had that rare, dangerous kind of presence that didn’t need polish to be magnetic. She wore black converse, baggy jeans and a black hoodie under a beaten leather jacket, oversized like it didn't belong to her. Silver rings and chains that rattled like she wanted everyone to hear her coming - or didn’t care if they did. Probably both.
She scanned the room before her eyes locked with yours - neither of you looked away. Not even when the director said, “Ellie, thanks for joining.”
Finally turning, she greeted the director before taking a seat across from you - casual and confident like she’d chosen it specifically. Scripts were passed around, greetings exchanged and conversations about pilot rewrites took place. But you couldn’t focus, not fully.
Not when Ellie Williams was sat directly infront of you, legs stretched out, her tattooed arms peeking out of the sleeves of her hoodie as she skimmed through the first page of the chapter like it was beneath her. Not with Ellie flicking her gaze at you every few seconds. You began adjusting your posture as you felt the heat creep up your body, suddenly very self-aware of how rehearsed you looked. How glossy and clean. Whilst Ellie had that half-worn look like she didn’t seem to give a fuck, and it made her seem dangerous. Real.
The director finally spoke up and placed you in your positions in the centre of the room, the cameras began filming the two of you. The first line was yours, which you read smoothly trying to mask the nervousness you felt deep down.
Then came Ellie’s.
She didn’t ease into the scene, she snapped into it. A subtle smirk in her voice suited with a tone that seemed like she was speaking to you, only to you; “Didn’t think you’d show.”
That wasn’t how it was written, not exactly. But it landed.
You paused just a second, just for a breath, “Yeah well I've got nothing to lose anyway.”
The scene kept going, your characters flirted, challenged and pushed.
Ellie stepped forward for one line, voice low and lazy: “You always talk this much when you’re nervous?” Before a laugh escaped her lips - not in the script, certainly not planned. Ellie’s smirk sharpened. Your eyes caught again.
The room was silent, people were watching. Someone scribbled a note. Ellie didn’t look away. You both managed to get down to the final page. Ellie closed her script shook a few hands before shrugging her coat back on and walking away like she’d already gotten what she came here for. You stayed still, the script laying on your lap. No one said anything more, they didn’t have to.
You two were perfect. For the movie of course.
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The hallway was narrow. Quiet. The kind of place people passed through, not lingered in. You weren't expecting anyone when you stepped out of the restroom - still a little dazed from the read, your mind replayed Ellie’s lines like a scratched vinyl.
But Ellie was there when you walked out. She was leaning against a wall, one leg propped up. She had her phone in one hand, her script tucked under the other arm only looking up when she heard footsteps.
Your eyes met again, and there it was that same unbearable, unspoken thing. Still there, like it had followed you two out the room. “Good read” you offered casually, hoping to break it. Ellie raised an eyebrow, “You think so?” Her voice had that slow drawl again. Not warm, but not cold either. Just unreadable. Almost like she was playing a game she knew the rules to, and you didn’t
“I mean,” you said, shifting your weight, “you've got presence. That’s hard to fake.”
Ellie laughed softly, stepping closer. Close enough that the air shifted. Close enough that her cologne; subtle, clean but expensive and strong was all it took to cloud your thoughts.
“Is that what I was doing?” Ellie asked. “Faking it?” There was something in her words.
A challenge. An accusation. A dare.
You didn't answer, you couldn’t. She was too close now, too direct. You looked up at her, her eyes were greener than they looked on screen. Neither of you stepping back.
Ellie looked at your mouth for half a second. Not long, just enough to be obvious. The air felt heavy before Ellie finally stepped back before asking, “You always freeze when someone flirts with you?” And then she walked off not hurried or smug, only like she knew something you hadn’t figured out yet.
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chapter 1 is doneee, if you notice any mistakes, no u didn't (I wasn't bothered to proof read)
you are NOT prepared for the angst, fluff, smut, heart break i have coming up just u wait 😈
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traincat · 5 months ago
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hello traincat!!!! just recently gone through my spideytorch rabbit hole again. only now it is worse. and i’m actually considering writing fics about those two losers…
i LOVE your villain!peter fic, and i have seen a few other premise where peter is the Spider. but now its got me thinking and now i have brainworms of villian!johnny. i think of johnny and he will always be that sincere idiot that always puts others needs before his own. maybe if i break him enough mentally….. hmm decisions decisions….
thoughts?
also ur the bestest ever and i spent valentines giggling and reading your fics… i hate those stupid losers(i am obsessed with them…)
Thank you for reading my fics! I hope you had a good Valentine's Day. 💖
So it's my opinion that you can push pretty much any character into villain territory, you just need to figure out the right buttons to push. Some are admittedly easier than others. With Peter, for The Spider and the Last Spark, I had a very definite breaking point in mind. Spoilers for my own fic but the Spider's universe is a canon divergent version of 616 where, during Civil War, the Kingpin's assassin succeeds and murders both Mary Jane and Aunt May before Peter reaches the motel room.
This wasn't a totally original idea or anything. What If? Back in Black goes in a similar direction, killing off MJ, although its Peter is ultimately less successful than mine. I decided to kill off Aunt May too to completely strip Peter of any positive influence, including his own universe's Johnny, who died as a result of the attack he suffers at the beginning of Civil War.
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I also took a lot of inspiration from What If? Grim Hunt, where Peter ultimately doesn't back down and decides to kill Kraven. (Notably my inspiration for his costume -- the black suit sans the mask -- was from Grim Hunt, and also his regular collection of slutty, slutty bathrobes.) The regular Grim Hunt makes a prediction via Madame Web that if Peter did kill Kraven, it would set him on a path where he wouldn't be able to stop killing, which is something Peter himself muses on in Spider-Man: Friends and Enemies. So I had a lot of canon information to use as a foundation.
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(What If? Grim Hunt) "You killed someone." "I did that for you too!" Haha. Love him. What a freak. The other big thing I was considering with Peter was his personality flaws and how I could magnify those. Peter's big thing is responsibility, which on the flipside means he often assumes responsibility for other people. The ugly flipside here is control. Peter loves to be in control of a situation, and why wouldn't he? He's the strongest, fastest, and usually the smartest person in any civilian room he walks into. That's a big power rush. So take someone who is angry and grieving, who had that control stripped away from along with any positive influence in his life all in one night -- that's a powder keg.
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(ASM #542)
Regret was a big factor for my Spider, too. Regret that he couldn't protect MJ, Aunt May, Johnny. Regret over his dead child. Regret that he didn't provide a better life for MJ when she was alive. My goal was to work from a place of pain and transform it into this little kingdom of control. Peter's not powerful enough to take over, say, the world, but he could take over New York and hold it as his own sovereign territory, especially with how broken the community was during Civil War, and especially with a big show of power, which was why I had him kill the Hulk. (Whether or not Peter could kill the Hulk in canon is a debate I'm not interested in. What's important is that Peter does canonically state that he's figured out a method to kill the Hulk, and I absolutely believe that he believes he could do it.)
So how do we apply this method to Johnny? It's a little bit trickier, because I don't have a clear breaking point in canon where I'm like, okay, if we shifted X, Y, and Z, I could see this being a springboard into supervillainy. Johnny is, at heart, an extremely kind and moral character. He's also not self-motivated the way Peter is -- Johnny functions as part of a team, and when he explores things on his own they tend to be hobby related, like racing and pop stardom. He's not usually an independent actor.
On the other hand, we can use that to our advantage. "If you break him enough mentally" sure, that works, but how are we going to do that? My first thought again is to strip the support system. I think Ben in particular has to go -- we see how Johnny spirals when he and Ben aren't on good terms. (Take "has to go" however you want for your individual context. I don't think it strictly has to mean killing characters off. I had to separate Flash from Peter in The Spider and the Last Spark and I had him lead the rebel army.) Reed and Sue, I think there's wiggle room. Is either of them a villain? Johnny's easily influenced by his loved ones, especially when he's young. If you want to play into his naivete, I think there's the beginnings of a villain route there.
Alternatively, we can play into the destructive nature of Johnny's powers. I talked a little about Claremont's take on the origin story recently, where Johnny absorbs the heat from the shuttle crash and then immediately goes Nova. The only reason Sue and Reed survive is that Ben covers them. But traditionally, Ben isn't rocky until a few moments after the crash. What if his own transformation hadn't taken place yet? Ben still covers Reed and Sue, but it's not enough, and Johnny accidentally kills his family. Add in the more modern Fantastic Four origin approach where the Four are held, at least temporarily, by the military, and you've got an isolated, guilt stricken Johnny who is facing his worst fear: being alone.
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(Fantastic Four #214)
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(Fantastic Four: First Family)
That's easily enough to break him. I think you could write a villain!Johnny based solely on this. But again, Johnny's not a very independent actor. So some kind of outside influence is immensely helpful. Another supervillain? Someone with other motivations who sees a deeply lonely, emotionally scarred young man with enormous power, and recognizes someone easy to manipulate? Would Johnny even care if he was being manipulated at that point?
Which brings me to the big thing with Johnny for me. What does Johnny want most in the world? He wants to be loved. And while I think a solo Johnny villain story is interesting, part of me is always a little bit committed to the idea of villain couple Peter and Johnny. (Which is what the Spider was clearly trying to swing in The Spider and the Last Spark.) Johnny, lost, directionless, craving the affection that Peter has to give in spades, and Peter, with the capability to be protective and devoted, but who also becomes infatuated at the drop of a hat. Peter, obsessive. Johnny, yearning. A huge hole in both of their hearts that's never quite filled. So yeah, why not take over the criminal underground? It's not like they have anything else to do on a Saturday night.
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letteredlettered · 6 months ago
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Even though my favorite fic of yours is The Fall of the Veils, I just keep coming back to "Another Mask behind you"; I'm genuinely not sure how I interpret the characters in that fic, especially Harry in the end. Do you consider it an open ending? Because I keep going back and forth if I think Harry (can) ever fully forgive and love Draco. I also love that Im debating w myself if I think Draco will be a "second choice" to Harry when the first choice is also him
The ending is open in that not every thread is tied, and readers can come to their own conclusions about how Harry and Draco move forward.
I had originally intended to write a much longer fic. Draco would walk on eggshells, trying to make up for what he'd done and trying to be someone Harry would love just as much as Tristan. Harry's annoyed about it, because now that he knows who Draco is, he just wants Draco to be himself. But Harry eventually comes to see how truly difficult that is for Draco; Harry would see that he wasn't making things any easier. And then Harry would launch a campaign to demonstrate to Draco just how much Harry likes Draco as Draco, encouraging Draco to be comfortable and to be himself. And Draco finally does become comfortable enough to be himself...and finds out who he really is is Tristan in everything but the name and the face.
To me part of the point of the fic is that all the times when Draco is getting super cozy as Tristan, he's convinced he's not being himself at all. But what he's being is the version of himself he wishes he could have been, without the war, without his own specific history, without the laws after the war. But that's a version of himself Draco could still be if they both let go of the past, which neither of them is actually able to do.
But I do think Harry could do it; he already starts to do it by the end of the fic. He just needs more time. And while Draco is saying to Harry over and over again "I am Tristan," Draco himself doesn't believe it, which makes it harder for Harry to deal with because Draco is not acting Tristan, who was never trodden upon and hurt by war, would act. Tristan is basically Draco safe and comfortable and in love. And I think that Harry would see that before Draco and work on giving them both the reality they really want.
I just never got around to writing this. I probably won't, now that we're here ten years later, but who knows.
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aspoonofsugar · 26 days ago
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SOTR Thoughts
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Just finished the book, here some thoughts in random order!
A DARKER TALE FOR DARKER TIMES
Sunrise Of The Reaping is probably the darkest and most violent tale of the Hunger Games Books so far. Even more so than The Ballad Of Birdsongs and Snakes, which is an elegant Shakespearean tragedy. SOTR is instead an Orwellian dystopian novel. Especially if one considers that the epilogue is not really a conclusion of the story told in the book, but it builds on the the main trilogy, which is about hope and revolution. If Haymitch's story consisted of only this one book, well... the final line would be a very very bitter "Happy birthday".
I personally think that this Orwellian inspiration and the darkest tones tie into the current times, unluckily. I mean, I think nobody missed Plutarch's reference to GenAI, when he talks about this technology that their ancestors destroyed because it let you manufacture fake things out of thin air. This allusion alone made me think... If Panem had GenAI, could Katniss and Peeta even beat the games the way they do in the books? Because I think it is at least debatable.
Katniss and Peeta manage to beat the Gamemakers because they use situations and details Capitol either can't edit or would not want to edit.
There is no way the Gamemakers would not want to use the tragic story of the Starcrossed Lovers of District 12 for the show. At the same time they have to at least show a glimpse of Rue's body covered in flowers. Something that means nothing for Capitol, but a lot for the Districts. Still, with GenAI (especially a GenAI empowered by science-fiction logic, but not even that much tbh), you could easily edit the flowers out, if you wanted. Even more so, in 5 minutes you could create a fake scene where Katniss kills Peeta, then kidnap both, kill Peeta and force Katniss to play the Victor by using Prim and her mother as leverage. I think she would have complied.
TAKE BACK THE NARRATIVE
Of course and on a lighter note, SOTR also makes clear propaganda is not invincible and that things change and that there is the right time for every dictatorship or state to fall. Haymitch's time was not right, while Katniss and Peeta's was. They were luckier. Even more importantly, though, there is a difference in how Haymitch and Katniss fight Capitol.
First of all, there is the obvious paradox that Haymitch wants to rebel and to fight Capitol to begin with, whereas Katniss mostly wants to survive and to ensure the survival of her loved ones. In this they are opposites:
Haymitch starts as hopeful and idealistic. He shows his love openly to others, has dreams of marrying Lenore Dove and to have kids with her. He dreams of a normal life.
Katniss is cynical and represses her care for others. She is focused on survival even in her everyday life in District 12 and never wants to have kids of her own. She thinks love is a weakness because it makes you vulnerable and takes control away (hello Katniss's inner Snow :P). She dreams of no happy future.
This ends up giving Katniss an advantage because nobody truly expects her to rebel to the extent Haymitch does. Haymitch is put under special observation and targeted even before the games start. Katniss is one of the many before the start of the games. Haymitch does not want to play; he wants to die by sabotaging the arena. Katniss is initially willing to play along; she wants to try and become a victor. And here comes the key difference between the two.
Haymitch wants to "write his own story", to show the truth to the Districts and Capitol alike. He uses a "bad boy" persona to hide his plan, but ends up a prisoner of this mask, which ensures he can never tell his own story. Why should people believe his version, when the character he willingly chose for himself is that of a self-centered, brash smuggler? One with no important ties and that works alone? Throughout his narration, Haymitch's focus is on how to hide things from Capitol. He must hide his true personality, his love for others and his plan. He uses his character to do so, but this works so well the Gamemakers can easily use his own persona against him. The version they come up with is so believable years later both Katniss and Peeta accept it without doubts. They are both like "oh yeah, this checks".
Katniss instead does not want to write her own story because, to be frank, she is unable to. She feels powerless, has no social skills and believes she can be no interesting character. It is really Peeta the genius writer there, who finds a character for her aka "the object of his love". This idea is liked SO MUCH by Capitol, they choose to follow Peeta's script. And Katniss does too. Katniss doesn't choose her own character, but she finds herself trapped in it. And she detests it. And yet, she plays along as any good tribute should do. In fact, Katniss's narration focuses on what to show Panem. What should she show for sponsors to like her, for them to send her medicine and food? It is not easy for her to be charming (or so she thinks), so she has to put effort into it. And by the end she is able to use the persona Peeta and the Gamemakers gave her to take back control of the narrative. She doesn't write her own story, but she gives it a good finale: a double suicide. After all, who are the most famous Star Crossed Lovers ever, if not Romeo and Juliet? And how does their story end, if not with them being unable to live without each other? Capitol's Gamemakers should have really read more Shakespeare to better control the narrative :P
So, neither what happens in Haymitch nor Katniss's games is really the truth. Neither of them are able to write their own story, simply because the world they are in won't let them. They are able to do so only years later, when they write a memorial book for their lost loved ones. And even then it is a personal book, something they do for themselves. (Even if maybe they will public it one day or it could be published after their deaths).
Writing your own story in the Hunger Games is impossible because the Games will always use you. What you should do to defeat them is to use the Games yourself. Katniss succeeds because she does this. She uses the story given to her and makes it her own. And then she gives it to the people, who make it theirs. Ironically the destruction of the Games comes from the Games themselves. After years of frankly stale propaganda (Haymitch's true story is definitely far more engaging than the censured version Capitol serves), the Gamemakers find a genuinely great story they think they can use and are SO HAPPY ABOUT IT. And yet, as every good story, this narrative completely escapes their control. It resonates with people on many levels and in different ways. It makes Capitol's people feel something real for once. It makes the District overcome their fear and embrace their anger and desire for freedom.
And I wonder (with zero competence to do so, so take it as just my random thoughts) if what should be done in this new era of propaganda is to try and take back good stories. To take back narratives. Because as for now I think the right wing is the one with the strongest narrative tbh (or at least the loudest)...
Which is why whenever I think about cases like Isabel Fall's Helicopter Story , I can't help but getting angry. A Helicopter Story is about taking a transphobic slur to start a debate about gender and it is written by a trans woman. It is a great example of taking back a narrative. Except, many people (even in the LGBTQ+ community) basically decided it was wrong because it went against mainstream and accepted ways to discuss gender. Congratulations, you silenced a trans voice. How many other voices are you silencing with your bigotry and unwillingness to truly think and debate things masked as purity pure wokeness?
Similarly, whenever I see a Tumbrl post laughing and saying... "man, right wingers are so stupid... they are quoting book/song/movie xyz and they do not know it was written by xyz and do not understand that its real message is xyz..." my heart dies a little. Maybe we shouldn't laugh. Maybe this appropriation of content and narratives while interesting voices are destroyed because "not purity pure enough" is precisely why they are winning. After all, we should have read somewhere 2+2 can become 5 if everyone believes it and nobody questions it. And if we haven't, maybe there is another, MUCH more haunting dystopian novel we should read after the entertaining, adrenaline-filled and ultimately adventure-driven Hunger Games. I know, I know, the protagonist is so unlikable and problematic, but he still has something to say. And maybe we all are much more similar to him, than to the heroic Katniss and Haymitch. I dunno about you, but in the games I would die in the initial bloodbath :P
BIRDS, SNAKES AND GIRLS
After this slightly preachy moment (sorry :'')), I wanna actually make clear how much I liked the book! I especially loved its female characters and their different motifs.
So, all the major female characters (not sure about the male characters, I should think more about it later) are linked in different ways to both birds and snakes. This is no surprise given how much this double symbolism is key to the whole saga. Everyone is both:
A Songbird
A Snake
Like Lucy Gray, like Coriolanus, like Haymitch, like Katniss, like Peeta. Everyone has within themselves opposite forces fighting and we must choose who we will be. Well, the same can be said for our four main girls of SOTR: Lenore Dove, Maysilee and Louella/Lou Lou. All four have a duality to them. In particular, they are birds either poisoned by snakes or forced to become snakes.
Lenore Dove is the most bird-like of them all, as she is associated to two opposite birds: a dove (white) and a raven (black), so white + black = gray (dove color). Gray, like life (dove/color) and death (the Raven/poem). Gray, like Lucy Gray, the aunt her uncles and Snow project on her. The aunt her uncles do not wanna Lenore Dove to follow in the footsteps of. The aunt Snow condemns to repeat the life of... She is gonna leave Haymitch behind, no matter what. She is poisoned by a snake (snow himself, the Devil who acts as God) thanks to a red sweet (a piece of the arena in the real world, an apple) given to her by the person she loves (Adam and Eve). She is killed for a sin Snow blames on her. Haymitch's? Lucy Gray's? Snow's owns? Not important. She is an angel killed by the Devil in a heavy edited version of the Bible. Because that is also what propaganda does. It takes evil and presents it as good. It takes good and makes it look evil.
On a character level, Lenore Dove's birth itself is rooted in death (Maude Ivory's, but also the never forgotten loss of Lucy Gray). She is born to have a better life than her mother and aunt. She is her uncles' second chance to protect their sisters from "bad boys". She is their "lost lenore". Something good born from the grief. That is why she is called Lenore, the one who is no more, but that still walks among them as per a miracle. That is why she is called Dove. Gray, like Lucy, but with some pink in it, like Ivory's white has some yellow. A wish for a better future. And yet, she too gets lost in a snow storm. She too is lost because of a "bad boy".
Still, I wonder what was like for Lenore Dove to live as a replacement goldfish for Lucy Gray and Maude Ivory. Maybe it was the constant projection that made her so willing to rebel. And maybe this is precisely why she could not stand Maysilee. Not because of her bitchy attitude. Not because Maysilee figured out her secret political agenda. But because deep down Maysilee is like Lenore Dove. A canary in a cage.
Maysilee has a canary in a cage and Lenore Dove hates her for it. And yet, the canary is clearly a symbol of Maysilee's life. She is a pretty bird in a cage of privilege. Sure, she has expensive gifts, beautiful clothes and jewels, but she is forced to be someone she isn't. She is forced to sit in a sweet shop focusing all her creativity in coming up with new receipts. She has no choice. And then, she is ripped and she has to go in a bigger, more lethal sweet shop (the arena), where she is forced to wear more lethal jewels (the blowgun) and to come up with more lethal receipts (her poisoned darts). From beautiful frail bird to lethal snake. Still an animal. So, it is meaningful she chooses to give the name of her canary to Lou Lou.
Louella and Lou Lou are two sides of the same coin. They are a bird (Louella) closed in a caged and turned into a snake (Lou Lou). They are one of Capitol's hybrid. They are two people cut and re-arranged in one. Louella is compared to a bird. Lou Lou loves snakes, is given poison and is an unwilling spy. Louella is negated her death. Lou Lou is negated her life. Whenever the bird in Lou Lou comes out (her singing, her calling her captors assassins), she is immediately given poison that changes her back into a snake. Louella and Lou Lou are an extreme version of all the other characters. Humans Capitol turns into monsters. Human Hybrids. That is what neither Lenore Dove nor Maysilee want to become.
Maysilee makes this clear when she explains why she hates the Mockinjay pin. She doesn't dislike it aesthetically. She dislikes the bird because she sees it as an unnatural hybrid. It is an imitation, a copy. Like what her parents forced her to be all her life. One of two twins, always dressed the same. Maysilee, a made up name to mirror Merrilee's. It is unnatural and fake. And we know Maysillee loves genuine things. Like being direct. Like growing up old and beautiful and herself like her grandmother, who is the opposite of Capitol's fake eternal youth. Maysilee wants to live and die as herself, so she dislikes the Mockingjays. And yet, she is wrong and Haymitch points it out to her. Mockingjays were born because Capitol, but they outlived Capitol. They escaped its control. And so Maysilee thinks about giving her pin a second chance. Only for her to die killed by a flock of hybrid birds.
The choice of the hybrids was not accidental. They could have used the squirrels, like with Maritte. And yet, they chose the birds, after what she told Haymitch about not wanting to be a hybrid bird. They did so to tell her she is their bird hybrid until the very end. She is the hybrid who fought back (the murderer of the Gamemakers) and so she must be killed. Just like the jabberjays. That is all. And yet, even if the jabberjays got extincted they gave birth to something new. From their ashes, the mockingjays were born. From Maysilee's ashes, Katniss is born. From hers, Haymitch, Louella, Lou Lou, Wyatt, Amper and many many others'. Katniss is born from everyone's ashes. A girl who gives a new chance and a new life to Maysilee's pin. A memento everyone can make a spark in the right circumstance.
TRUTH AND LIES
The main theme of the book is propaganda, which uses human duality to its advantage. So, the motif of duality is everywhere. The real question is... are you able to identify the truth from a lie, the original from a copy?
The people of Panem can't as they forget Lucy Gray, accept the heavily edited version of the 50th games and drink Capitol's propaganda.
Haymitch himself loses this ability for a while, lost in alcohol and pain. It is symbolized by his dream where he can't distinguish Louella from Lou Lou anymore. And for a moment this nightmare becomes true when he thinks Merrilee is Maysilee. A small foreshadowing of him embracing his personal propaganda. The one Snow created for him. That he could never love anyone anymore. He accepts it and cuts everyone off. He lives alone and lonely for years. And yet, in the end, he learns to love again. Probably he never truly stopped. Katniss, Peeta, his ducklings, the symbolic children of him and Lenore Dove. All the children who will be born free of the games thanks to him, Maysilee, Wyatt, Louella, Lou Lou, Amper, all the other tributes. For years Haymitch believed all he did was useless. But it wasn't. His and Amper's was a first attempt, so that Katniss and Peeta's one could work. His survival let him be there to guide them. And he survived because Maysilee saved him from Panache and helped him reach the magnetic field. He is there because Lou Lou died smelling a flower and made him understand flowers were poisonous. And Lou Lou found Haymitch because Wyatt protected her during the bloodbath. And Wyatt grew fond of Lou Lou because Snow gave her to them as an insult to Louella. And he did so because Louella's death was so tragic the other District 12 Tributes could not let it slide and they forced even Snow to recognize it. Finally, Haymitch survives because Lenore Dove begs him to and asks him to fulfill a promise to her. Which is the same promise Maysilee silently asks him and Amper has not time to ask. To stop the games.
Ultimately, Snow's propaganda failed. Not only with the games, but with Haymitch himself. Snow tried to turn Haymitch into a copy of himself, identical to the original. Still, he failed 'cause Haymitch never gives up love, like Coriolanus did. He remains his true self. Because the most horrific and powerful propaganda is not the one which comes from outside, but the one which comes from inside. It is the lies we tell ourselves out of fear and pain. Like Haymitch believing they can truly take his humanity away. Like Coriolanus who tells himself Lucy Gray never loved him and that he never loved Lucy Gray. Or Sejanus. A lie he tells himself to justify himself and that ends up deforming everything. Yes, the first victim of the Capitol's propaganda Coriolanus Snow himself. The Snow who believed Gaul's ideology. The Snow who gives up on truth and becomes a snake who uses poison. But also a bird who keeps poisoning himself. To survive and to kill. Never to truly live. The Snow who can never see anyone else for their true self. The Snow who sees Lucy Gray Baird everywhere. In Lenore Dove, in Katniss. The Snow who tries to negate his own humanity by negating others.
Still, you can't negate one's humanity:
No, sir, Nothing you can take me from me is worth dirt. Take it, 'cause I'd give it free. It won't hurt. Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping!
Haymitch by the end remembers this song, whereas Snow never does, even if it is the first song ever he listens Lucy Gray sing. On the Sunrise of her Riping. And so, even if it seems Snow won in Sunrise Of The Riping, he really doesn't because he fails to impose his cruellest propaganda. He fails to take away everyone's humanity.
Wyatt dies protecting a child with zero chance of surviving. Maysilee dies without her voice, but she finds a final way to communicate with Haymitch by using her hands (the pinky promise), the true secret behind her art and craft. Even Lou Lou in the end dies because of who she was, not because of who Capitol turned her into. Her final gesture is to smell flowers which remind her of home. Lenore Dove doesn't die like Lucy Gray. She dies in the arms of the boy she loves while trusting him until the very end. The opposite of Lucy Gray who disappears mysteriously after Coriolanus breaks her trust. Never giving him the closure Haymitch gets. Never letting Snow truly control her. So, in the end, the only humanity Coriolanus Snow sacrificed is really his own.
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purpledaisiesthings · 3 months ago
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FINALLY!!!!
Freaking finally....The wait is almost over until Ginny & Georgia season 3 airs, after over 2 years....ridiculous.
This show can be so cringy at times, but I still love it lol 😄.
As a shipper that detests love triangles, this show is probably the only show that makes me root for the different relationships within the love triangles.
Before I watched the show, I had a whole picture of what Ginny & Georgia was going to be about, but I was completely wrong. It presents itself as a small town comfort show, but it's filled with imperfect/damaged characters with love triangles who are sometimes criminals??? Lol 😄
I liked the idea of Ginny and Hunter in season 1, but seriously, her and Marcus was a whole lot more interesting. That's not even up for debate for me. Yes, there was technically a love triangle for Ginny, but I only saw it with Marcus.
Now Georgia, that's where all my attention was in regards to this whole love triangle shenanigans (more of a love square though lol). Georgia is such an interesting and complicated character. She really is my favorite. I'm so invested in her as an individual, a mother and her love stories. As much as I hate love triangles, I cannot believe I'm actually rooting for each of them. They individually bring out something different in Georgia and represent something different to her. Zion is her past, Paul is her present and Joe might be her future.
They all know her in different ways and they would all be wonderful choices as endgames, but of course I do have a favorite....I'm only human Lol 😄🤷🏾‍♀️
Her Past - I feel like Zion is home to her, her first love. They've known each other the longest and pretty much know each others' flaws. They might not like it, but they accept it because they cannot let go of each other. They are stuck together for life. I feel like he knows what she is capable of even though it's not been expressly said. She will always love him. Her penguin, her soulmate. The love of her life. But as much as I love them together, I feel like their storyline might be headed towards them finally being able to move on from each other. Their relationship has been toxic as f*ck from the start. They met as kids when they were both "running away" from something. She from her family and him from the responsibilities his parents imposed on him for his future. No wonder they were always running in some way and never got satisfied with settling. They always gravitate towards each other in the end but because of how toxic they both are, they run. They might be the same people in different fonts. Zion just masks his toxicity better. Now that they are adults, I don't know if they are able to rebuild a solid relationship out of all that hurt and trauma they've shared together. But it'll be a very interesting reconciliation storyline if that happens.
Her Present - Paul is her dream. She's always had a picture of who she wanted to be and what she wanted for her life and for her children. Paul represents it. He will give her that life, that security, that dream. She loves him in a different way and is willing to allow him into who she is....But not fully. She will never fully be able to bare her whole self to him. With the way season 2 ended, I'm not sure her relationship with Paul will survive. As much as he loves her, he also loves his career, and both will clash. Also, because I know they teased a Joe ship for a reason, there's no way they'll happen with her still married to Paul. It's just a process of elimination Lol 😆
Her Future - Now Joe, he is her safe place. Her fresh start. From the moment they met as kids, he brought her hope, and he brought her solace when she needed it. Then, the moment she felt she was finally at the stage in her life to provide a good life for her children, the moment she started feeling hopeful again about her future, she moved to Willsbury. The same town she knows Joe lived in. She ran towards him. Her hope, her fresh start. I really want to see how a relationship with Joe will be. I'm curious. Again, I believe he represents her fresh start at a new kind of love without the toxicity or secrets or the hurt she's had to experience all her life. At first, I wasn't sure if he was what she wanted. Georgia is not a normal character. She's got some serious issues, and they are very real issues that can't be swept under the rug to accommodate a "fresh start." I didn't know if "sweet Joe" would be able to embrace all of her at first. He pretty much just plays along to whatever she says, like a doormat sometimes. But as I continued watching, I think he could be exactly what she wants and needs. He's the only one so far who has had a standalone flashback that's not tied to Georgia. Zion's flashbacks always involved Georgia. In Joe's flashback, we got to know a little bit about his character and the fact that as a kid, he had the potential for crime. Before this, I wondered who he was as a character other than being a shop owner and how he could possibly fit into her chaotic problematic life. That short flashback showed the potential of him being able to accept all of her (both good and bad), which I feel Zion might struggle with a little at first, and most definitely Paul will never accept. I think that flashback was very intentional by the writers. Personally, I think there is potential for a beautiful slow burn with them.
I think her endgame will be Joe, but I'm definitely team Zion. Sorry, I like what I like😄. However, I would be completely fine with any of the options as her endgame.
That being said, I'm really looking forward to the new season.
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legacygirlingreen · 5 months ago
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"Lady by the Sea" (1/2) || Tech x OC Marina || NSFW
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Author's Note: Hi friends! I wanted to pop in briefly before this one with a few important reminders. This is part of of a larger AU created by my friend @leenathegreengirl and I. Decisions have been and will always be agreed upon mutually, including the way this story was written. As always, she is responsible for the beautiful cover art (full image at the bottom of the text). Additionally, I'd like to take the time to remind readers that I am an autistic adult. I have been diagnosed since I was a young child - shocking since I was a child during the early 2000s when most doctors believed that cases of autism in girls was virtually non existent/only presented in the stereotypical representation of males. And while I'm not trying to reopen the debate on if Tech is/isn't autistic and/or a good representation of autism, I will continue to write him with those tendencies. There are many things I see in myself (and how it manifests for myself personally) in his canon character. Same can be said for how I write Marina. So I wanted to provide some explanation for those who maybe don't have much up close experience with autism. This installment does include stimming. Stimming can be done for a variety of reasons and look different for every person. I stim when I am nervous. I stim when I am angry. I stim when I am happy and the variety of each of those actions differs depending on how I need to regulate my emotions. "Happy stimming" can look different from person to person, but a common form of this is flapping one's hands/arms. I, admittedly struggled to put this action into words and when discussing it with my real life partner he did express that while the body language itself may appear awkward (the movement can look a bit stiff), he still finds it endearing as a person who loves and respects me. I am sure when you reach that portion, you will understand what I am referring to. Additionally, the concept of masking is described in this. While I did not blatantly use words like 'stimming' or 'masking', please note that I hoped to convey these in a way that shows how they act in reality. Autistic people usually learn to mask their more physical manifestations in order to fit in. I am no exception. So when writing this piece it did become a bit cathartic to express Tech learning to overcome 'masking' as he views Marina expressing her own stims without fear or worry. Anyways, I hope that these concepts come across alright - I do struggle to put my experiences as a person who's been diagnosed even after all this time. But I am more than happy to continue the conversation with anyone wanting to know more. Thanks for reading this slightly longer note/disclaimer. Also, this will have a part 2 I plan to get up next Tuesday! Happy Reading, M
Pairing: Tech x OC Marina
Rating: NSFW
Word Count: 13.3k
Warnings: mentions of nudity, mentions of passionate embraces, mentions of slight childhood bullying, brief mentions of divorce/widowhood
Summary: Tech accompanies his new friend with examining a deep sea fish migration and gets more than he bargained for...
Masterlist | Tech's Encrypted Files | Previous | Next
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Tech immersed himself in all material he could find about the mōlī fish migrations, reading up on every documented detail ahead of the evening. All Marina had mentioned was that the creatures surfaced near Pabu’s beaches only once every few years, and that the event itself was a spectacle worth witnessing. That alone piqued his interest—deep-sea fish capable of rising to the surface was an extraordinary phenomenon, especially considering that the pressure of the ocean only shifted enough to allow such a migration in a rare, cyclical pattern.
The fish’s ability to glow with their own internal light as they navigated the depths was both scientifically fascinating and naturally awe-inspiring. To say that Tech was intrigued was an understatement. His mind, always attuned to the marvels of biology and the natural world, buzzed with the possibilities of what he might learn from observing such a rare event.
Ever since that day when Marina had acknowledged his appearance, Tech had begun to feel something strange whenever she was near. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was certainly unfamiliar—an unexpected shift in his usual equilibrium. At times, his heart would race, an irregular thudding in his chest that caught him off guard. His palms would sweat, an odd dampness that seemed to appear out of nowhere. There was a warmth that would spread through his bloodstream, almost as if his body was responding to some hidden signal. And if he happened to look at her for too long, a dizzying lightness would sweep over him, as if the world itself had momentarily tilted.
He couldn't quite make sense of it. These phenomenological responses weren’t things he typically experienced, and they didn't follow the same logic as his usual responses to stimuli. He knew something was happening—he could feel it, this strange stirring within him that didn’t quite fit into any of the categories he usually applied to his own emotional or physical states. But what was it? Perhaps an allergy to a fragrance she wore? That seemed the most likely given he only experienced the changes when she was closer in proximity to him.
Despite the confusion, there was a part of him that couldn’t deny the underlying excitement that pulsed beneath all of it. It was an energy he hadn’t felt before, an electric current that surged through him whenever the marine biologist was near, even if he couldn't pinpoint the exact cause. 
But the strangest part was that he couldn’t explain why this felt so important. He had a tendency to dissect everything in his life, to categorize things, break them down, and understand them through logic. Yet, no matter how much he tried to apply his usual methods of analysis, this sensation didn’t fit neatly into any of his mental boxes. It was as though his mind was searching for patterns, but finding none, which only heightened his fascination. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that when she was around, the world seemed to shift just a little, like everything was suddenly more vivid, more... alive. 
And more than that, he felt an overwhelming sense of ease, as though there was no need to explain himself. The quirks and behaviors he had spent years trying to suppress—the very things that had made him feel alienated, even from those closest to him—suddenly didn't seem to matter. In Marina, he saw reflections of those traits he had long struggled with, the things that had once set him apart in a way that felt isolating. Yet in her presence, those differences didn’t feel like barriers but like an unspoken bond, a quiet understanding between them. The relief was profound, deeper than he realized. It wasn’t just that Marina accepted him; she seemed to instinctively know him in a way that was both rare and deeply comforting. In her, he found a kindred spirit—a mirror of sorts—that reassured him he wasn’t so alone in the world after all.
Marina was more than she appeared. While she had a sharp, scientific mind and a direct approach to life, she also embodied the culture of her people. A native of Pabu—an uncommon heritage, as most were refugees like him—she held tight to their distinctive culture. Her connection to their physical traditions, like tattoos, and her reverence for the moon and tide cycles, reflected a harmony that enhanced both her analytical side as a scientist and her spirituality in a way that was rhythmic. Having never fully been able to do the same, he found it interesting one could walk that line with grace and ease. Particularly the way in which she framed her scientific discoveries as something noble and worthy of protecting simply for their beauty.
It was a quality he was finding increasingly admirable. 
After presenting his findings to Crosshair, Tech had been met with a curt, dismissive response. His brother, in typical fashion, had simply called him a “kriffing idiot” before shutting down any further discussion. Tech, as always, had tried to prod for more details, to understand why his findings—his observations—were being so lightly dismissed. But Crosshair had only shrugged, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he said, “You’ll figure it out eventually.”
Tech, unsurprisingly, had no doubts that he would eventually crack the puzzle. He always did, after all. But the response, or rather, the lack of one, left him feeling oddly disappointed. He couldn’t pinpoint why exactly, but there was something about Crosshair’s refusal to elaborate that gnawed at him. It wasn’t just the dismissive tone—Tech was used to that—but the evasiveness, the unwillingness to help him interpret the strange phenomenon that had been so consuming. His brother’s typical bluntness had given way to a kind of aloofness that felt out of character, and it left Tech feeling as though something important had slipped just out of reach.
Tech wondered if it was stemming from his brother’s proximity to his ex wife. Kayden and Leena were twins after all. Perhaps it had something to do with his loyalty to his fiance and thus her family, that he remained so tight lipped. It also might stem from the one bad interaction that Marina had experienced with Crosshair, getting under his skin in a way Tech knew would be hard to rectify - even if he did believe his brother to be in the wrong. Regardless, Crosshair was not willing to help and that left Tech on his own to figure out what the feelings meant on his own. 
And yet, Tech refused to let the confusion dampen his plans for the evening. He was determined to help his friend with her research, and in doing so, witnessed a rare scientific phenomenon that only a few were privileged enough to observe. The other, more personal aspects of his curiosity—those feelings of comfort that had begun to stir within him—would have to wait. There was no need to try to interpret them just yet, especially when there was so much data to be gathered. He could analyze the rest later, on his own time.
So, as Tech made his way down the familiar island path, his footsteps light but purposeful, he found himself reflecting on the strange sense of urgency that had overtaken him as he prepared for the evening. He had spent more time than usual adjusting his appearance before leaving his domicile—straightening his shirt, making sure his hair didn’t have cowlicks, even using a bit of fragrance he usually found overwhelming. Normally, he didn’t care much for such details, but tonight felt different. There was a subtle pressure to look “right,” though he couldn’t quite articulate why he felt the need.  It was irrational - something Tech rarely allowed himself to indulge - but for some odd reason he couldn’t stop. 
The evening air was cool as he walked, the full moon casting a soft, silvery glow across the horizon. His path was dimly lit by the lamp he carried, the small light barely enough to illuminate the trail beneath his feet. The wind tugged at the edges of his shirt and ruffled his short brown hair, but Tech barely noticed. His mind was elsewhere, caught up in the quiet hum of the night and the curiosity that continued to pulse beneath his skin.
As Tech neared the dock, his heart seemed to beat a little faster, his steps subtly quickening as if the evening’s arrival had suddenly become more tangible. The familiar sound of the gentle waves lapping against the shore was drowned out by the heightened rhythm of his thoughts. He was almost there—so close now—and yet, the closer he got, the more acutely aware he became of the small details that he’d never cared about before.
Reaching the end of the path, where the dock stretched out over the water, Tech paused for a brief moment. He took a slow, steadying breath and looked down at himself again, though he knew he had already checked his appearance at least three times before leaving. His shirt—hanging loosely over his waistband, as if that made any difference—felt too tight in some places, too loose in others. His hands hovered awkwardly over his clothes, as if trying to adjust them, but they didn’t need adjusting. His boots, polished to an extent that he rarely bothered with, seemed to gleam in the dim light, too pristine for someone who spent most of his time in the lab or among machinery.
He wasn’t sure what had come over him. He never worried about these small, superficial details. But tonight, as the torch light swayed gently in the wind beside him, something inside his chest fluttered, and he couldn’t stop himself from second-guessing every movement, every decision. Did normal people behave this irregularly in the face of unresolved tension? The thought flickered in his mind before he quickly dismissed it. He was overthinking. He knew that. But even as he tried to calm his nerves, a persistent hum of uncertainty remained.
He glanced at his reflection in the dark water below, seeing only fragments of his face on the moonlit surface. There was nothing out of the ordinary about his appearance, nothing to suggest that this evening was anything different from the others.
Tech took a step onto the dock, the familiar sound of the wooden planks creaking beneath his boots seemed unusually loud in the stillness of the night. His nerves were on edge, his heartbeat pulsing in his ears, and just as he neared the end of the dock, he saw movement ahead. Marina’s head appeared around the corner of the houseboat’s door, just enough for him to catch sight of her. She didn’t step out fully, but her eyes locked on him immediately, and a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. 
“You made it,” she called out, her voice carrying a slightly higher pitch than usual. There was a certain brightness in her tone that stood out, almost at odds with her usual reserved demeanor. His heart did a strange little flip at the sound. It was unexpected, and yet, not unwelcome. He had grown used to her more measured, often serious way of speaking, especially when it came to her work. But tonight, her voice carried a volume and enthusiasm that felt almost unfamiliar, and the shift was enough to make his chest tighten. “Come on in,” she added with an encouraging smile. “You’re just in time.”
Tech’s pulse quickened, his legs feeling a little more wobbly than usual as he drew closer. He nodded, though the response felt inadequate, and the sound of his boots hitting the dock again was all that broke the silence between them.
Marina smiled again, this time more softly, before slipping back inside the boat with a quiet rustle of fabric. The door clicked gently behind her, and Tech stood there for a moment longer than necessary, his mind racing with the odd sensation that something had shifted between them in those few seconds. Raising his hands only slightly, he flexed his hand before releasing it as if it would calm his nerves purely through the subconscious act alone.
Tech stepped inside the galley, the lights inside dim, as the boat swayed gently beneath him. He’d expected to find Marina inside, maybe preparing her notes or getting things in order, but as he stepped through the door, he realized she wasn’t there. He frowned briefly, confused, until he heard her voice, light and inviting, calling out from the deck.
“Out here!”
He turned on his heel, setting the torch in his hand on the table while the wooden floor creaked beneath him as he headed toward the back door that led out to the deck. As he stepped outside, the cool night air met him, the wind tugging at his shirt as he squinted into the moonlight, eyes readjusting to the low light.
And then he saw her.
Marina stood near the railing, looking out over the water, the soft glow from the sky casting an ethereal halo around her. The moonlight bathed her in silver, but it wasn’t just the soft illumination of the night that caught his attention—it was her. Her appearance was startling, yet captivating, and for a long moment, Tech stood frozen, unsure how to process what he was seeing.
She wore a flowing skirt that draped loosely around her hips, the fabric cut with slits on both thighs that revealed glimpses of her toned legs as she shifted her weight. The skirt moved with the breeze, and as the fabric fluttered, it drew his eye to the intricate blue tattoos that trailed down her thighs all the way to the tops of her feet, dark lines of color like fluid streaks of ink. 
Her top was not that unlike the kinds of things he’d seen her wear in the past. It was a simple piece, barely covering her chest, leaving the rest of her skin exposed. He was used to her wearing swimwear under wetsuits for diving, and while the shape of this was not far off, the impracticality of no sleeves and just a simple piece of fabric wrapped around her breasts was enticing. The top’s fabric was light and airy, enough to offer coverage but still reveal the smooth expanse of her arms, shoulders, and midriff. 
A gold chain wrapped around her waist, resting just above the waistband of her skirt, its delicate links glinting in the low light. Beneath the chain, Tech’s gaze lingered on the metal along her naval—a small, subtle piercing he hadn’t recalled noticing before, but one that seemed to add to the overall softness of her appearance. 
Her hair, usually tied back neatly when they worked together, was loose tonight, the dark strands swaying lightly in the wind as the few white pieces reflected the moonlight. It framed her face beautifully, soft waves cascading down her shoulders. As he looked longer he noticed the addition of smaller plaits, wrapped in thread or ornamented with more gold cuffs or beads. The sight was so striking that for a moment, Tech’s thoughts scattered, unable to form anything coherent. The combination of her exposed skin, the delicate jewelry, and the raw elegance of her posture was overwhelming.
His breath caught in his chest.
Marina turned slightly, her eyes catching him as she noticed him standing there, frozen in place. Her lips curled into a subtle smile, one that seemed almost playful but also knowing, as if she’d caught him off guard.
“You coming, or are you going to stand there all night?” she teased, her voice light but with an edge of curiosity.
Tech blinked, his gaze shifting away from her exposed skin, though it was almost impossible to look away. His heart raced again, but this time it wasn’t from the excitement of the evening’s research. No, it was something else entirely—something deep in his chest that he had a sinking suspicion he may finally know how to name.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the words were stuck. His brain was sluggish, processing too many things at once. The sound of his boots moving along the deck was the only thing that filled the silence.
As he joined her by the railing, he couldn’t help but steal another glance at her, his mind still reeling. She was breathtaking, but it was more than that. There was a rawness in her beauty tonight, something that made her feel more real, more present than ever before. Sure, he had acknowledged she was objectively attractive, but now that seemed arbitrary. This was a type of transcendent glow he couldn’t quite placate. One that existed simply from one’s own natural beauty and not the artifice of cosmetics but instead existed in sunkissed skin and salt waved hair. 
Marina glanced at him, the faintest glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “Are you feeling alright?” she asked, her tone still light, but there was an understanding in the way she looked at him, like she could see right through his awkwardness.
Tech cleared his throat, his hands instinctively moving to adjust the sleeves of his shirt, though there was no need. So his fingers worked their way down to the friendship bracelet woven by Omega along his wrist, fiddling with the frayed strands that hung loose. He swallowed hard, finally managing to say, “You—uh, you look incredible.” His voice came out quieter than usual, and he wasn’t sure if it was the way her appearance had stunned him or if it was something else entirely, but his words felt like they barely scratched the surface of what he really meant.
Marina’s smile deepened, and her eyes softened, almost as if she could hear the unspoken things in his voice, the things he wasn’t saying aloud. She stepped a little closer, the gentle sway of the boat bringing them even nearer to each other.
“Thank you,” she said simply, though her smile held an unmistakable warmth that sent a ripple through Tech’s chest. 
Tech shifted his weight, feeling an awkward tension settle in his chest as he glanced at Marina once more. His eyes, despite his best efforts, betrayed his thoughts, lingering on her for just a second longer than necessary. He cleared his throat once more, trying to divert his focus. "Not that your appearance isn’t appreciated," he started, his words falling a little flat, but he pushed through the discomfort, "but I thought we were going to study the mōlī fish migration tonight. This does not exactly seem suitable for scientific research." He gave her another quick glance, hoping she wouldn’t catch on to the hesitation in his gaze, but he couldn’t help himself. The way the soft moonlight reflected off her exposed skin, the way the gentle sway of the boat seemed to amplify her presence—it was all too much to ignore.
Marina looked at him, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in her eyes, but she didn’t respond right away. Instead, she shifted her gaze downward, fiddling with her hands as if she were suddenly unsure of something, the usual confidence in her posture faltering for just a moment.
She took a slow breath and then glanced back up at him, her expression softening slightly. “I don’t recall saying we were going to study them,” she replied, her voice light but tinged with an edge of playfulness. “I only asked if you would join me in witnessing their rare resurfacing. There is a difference, you know.” Her lips curved into a small, almost apologetic smile, but the shift in her demeanor made it clear that there was something more to her words. Not only that, but that his comment was dulling the odd behavior to which she’d displayed since his arrival. 
Tech blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He had assumed she’d planned to document the event, the way she had so carefully detailed the scientific significance of the mōlī fish migration in the reports she’d given him. But now that she mentioned it, she hadn’t actually said anything about studying them. The realization took him a moment, and he found himself searching her face, trying to read between the lines of her playful tone and the uncertainty that now lingered in her hands.
“So this is not strictly a scientific observation?” Tech asked, his voice quieter than intended, a slight confusion lacing his words as he tried to wrap his head around what she was implying. Her statement seemed to suggest something far more personal—something more intimate—and yet, he couldn't bring himself to vocalize it outright. Instead, his mind raced, wondering if there was more to this night than he had initially understood.
Marina seemed to sense his hesitation, the way he was trying to make sense of everything, and she finally met his gaze. “It’s a chance to witness something rare, Tech,” she said softly. “And I thought it might be more meaningful to share it with someone who... well, who might appreciate it in their own way.” Her words trailed off, leaving an openness that hung in the air between them, and Tech felt his chest tighten, unsure of how to respond.
For a moment, the night seemed to hold its breath, the sounds of the water below and the rustling of the breeze the only thing filling the space between them. He looked down, unsure of what he should say next, his mind still caught on the subtle shift in the tone of their conversation. “I—well, I do appreciate it,” he said, the words feeling inadequate even as he spoke them. “I just didn’t realize it was... that sort of experience."
Marina watched him for a moment, a thoughtful look crossing her face. She took a small step closer, her voice lighter, though still laced with a quiet concern. “Tech,” she began, her gaze softening, “if you no longer want to stay... if this wasn’t what you expected... It's okay. I understand if this isn’t the kind of experience you had in mind.”
Her words hung in the air between them, the gentle sway of the boat adding a quiet rhythm to the moment. Tech’s heart skipped, and he immediately felt the weight of her question pressing down on him. The idea of backing out now—of saying that he didn’t want to be here, with her, after everything—felt wrong. His mind scrambled for a response, but his thoughts collided in a haze of uncertainty.
“No, no—” Tech quickly interjected, his voice coming out more rushed and loud than he intended. He swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. “I want to stay. I just misunderstood, that’s all.”
He paused, his words hanging in the air between them, and he watched her carefully, as if searching for some clue that would help him make sense of this situation. Was she angry? Had he said the wrong thing?
“I still do not fully understand,” he continued, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. "What I mean is, I do not understand why something like this—this event—seems to be affecting your behavior. Not in a bad way, of course, I just—" He cut himself off, realizing he was rambling. He wasn’t good at putting his thoughts into words, especially when they were clouded with feelings he didn’t yet fully comprehend.
He looked down at the water, trying to collect himself, the stillness of the ocean beneath them somehow helping to calm his scattered thoughts. The breeze tugged at his sleeves, and for a brief moment, he felt like he could collect his bearings and make sense of it all. “I look forward to uncovering the reason,” he added, his voice more measured now. “If you’re willing to explain it to me, that is.”
It felt like he was asking more than just for an explanation. He wanted to understand her, to understand why this moment—this rare event—was affecting her so deeply. There was more going on here than just the mōlī fish. And, whether or not she admitted it, it seemed tied to something more personal, even if that something wasn’t a detail she was ready to reveal. He was still unclear if it was something from her life directly or if it involved him somehow. 
“I suppose I am acting abnormal to the baseline you’ve come to recognize,” Marina admits, her words trailing off as she pauses. There’s a quiet shift in her demeanor, a subtle vulnerability that Tech can’t quite place. He doesn’t press her, though—he simply watches, his gaze flicking to her from the corner of his eye, noticing the way she draws in a steadying breath.
Then, to his surprise, she reaches out and grabs his forearm. The unexpected contact startles him, and he tenses for a moment before forcing himself to relax. His heart thuds loudly in his chest, but he doesn’t pull away. She seems to sense his hesitation and, after a brief pause, she tugs him gently away from the railing.
“Come on,” she says, her voice soft but resolute. He follows her wordlessly, curious as she leads him to the front of the boat. There, she lowers herself gracefully onto the deck, dipping her feet into the water with a practiced ease as she settles in.
Tech hesitates for a moment, watching her, noticing the subtle tension in her shoulders and the way her movements seem more purposeful than usual. He sits next to her, his boots coming off quickly, socks discarded as he rolls his pant legs up. He mimics her posture, dipping his feet into the slightly chilled water, feeling the coolness of the sea seep into his skin. He hears Marina sigh beside him, the sound soft and heavy with something he can't quite name. Her leg bounces up and down on the lower dock, his eyes tracing the exposed skin momentarily as it moves before they settle on the way she’s weaving her fingers in and out of each other. It’s then Tech realizes she’s perhaps nervous. 
For a long moment, neither of them speaks. The night air hums with a quiet energy, and Tech is keenly aware of the silence that lingers between them, a silence filled with more than just the sound of the waves.
Finally, Marina’s voice breaks the silence, hesitant, as if her words have been waiting to be said for years. “Twenty-eight years ago, my mom went into labor,” she starts, her voice steady but heavy with something unspoken. This is the tone he is used to from her, and not the one she had been adopting the evening thus far. “My father wanted her to seek medical assistance, but she refused. She said the Pabu natives had been giving birth by the sea for generations, and she would uphold that tradition. I was born just as the mōlī fish came up to the surface.”
She pauses, her eyes unfocused as if she’s seeing something far away. Tech stays quiet, letting her find her rhythm. He pictures the scene she’s describing—her mother, the glowing mōlī fish rising from the water, and the life-and-death balance of the moment. Regardless of his own less than organic conception and birth, he still held much regard for the process that natural born people experienced. 
“My father told me,” she continues, her voice quieter now, “that my mom was so happy to see me there, hovering above the water, glowing. And for a moment everything was perfect. In the end she didn’t make it. But she got to experience joy there in the end.”
The words hang between them, heavy and raw. Tech feels a tightness in his chest, the weight of her grief lingering in her tone. He’s not sure how to respond—how to offer comfort without crossing some line. So, he stays silent, simply listening, watching her closely as she opens up, trying to hold on to every word she’s offering as his fingers drum along his leg.
Marina exhales softly, as if the telling of it has exhausted her in ways she hadn’t anticipated. Her gaze flickers to him, just for a moment, searching his face as if to gauge his reaction. But she doesn’t wait for him to speak—she continues.
“Despite my more scientific mind,” she says, her voice thick with emotion, “I admit to behaving oddly when I witness this event. There is a joy to it. I understand sorrow as it commemorates the passing of my mother would be more appropriate but the grief I feel for her is less in losing someone and more in losing out on the opportunity to know someone so vital to who I am.” She pauses and Tech considers her words. He knew the feeling. Quite well. He - like other clones - were a product of Jango Fett but there was a disconnect from the man that existed. He did not know him, but he was him, at least genetically speaking. That left an odd hole in his existence few could articulate.  
“I wish I had a better descriptor and believe me I certainly have tried to rationalize one. It’s not just the fish, it’s not just the science of it. Seeing this makes me feel connected to my mother. A woman I never knew. This migration... it’s a part of me, in many ways. I understand it is likely just a coincidence in timing, and there is no real reason to put such emphasis on the movement of aquatic life.”
Her words linger in the air, heavy with the weight of everything she’s shared. Tech feels his heart pounding in his chest, his mind struggling to find something to say that could capture the depth of what he’s just heard. For a moment, he simply watches her, taking in the way the water reflects in her eyes. From his position he can only see the lighter of the two. It’s as though the entire night has shifted, the scientific curiosity he’d arrived with now feeling small in the face of Marina’s story. He has no words that feel sufficient to meet the moment, but somehow, he knows that what she’s shared has opened a door to something much more meaningful between them.
Tech swallows, his voice soft yet sincere. “I did not realize. I didn’t understand how much this truly meant to you.” He pauses, collecting his thoughts before adding, “There are times when behavior might seem illogical, but that doesn’t make it any less valid.” His mind drifts back to earlier, when he had almost scolded himself for the extra, seemingly unnecessary effort he’d put into his appearance, and he hopes she’ll understand that he’s acknowledging something important. That sometimes, acting against reason doesn’t make the experience any less real or worthwhile. He, too, occasionally finds himself in that space, where actions defy explanation, and it’s not a bad thing.
Marina doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, she turns her gaze toward the water, watching the gentle ripples.  The air between them is filled with a quiet understanding, a connection that feels deeper than anything Tech has ever experienced. He doesn’t know how to make sense of everything he’s feeling at this moment, but he knows one thing for sure: he’s grateful she’s shared it with him. Grateful, she trusts him enough to allow him to see this side of her—the one that’s more than just the scientist, the one who carries the weight of her past with grace and quiet strength.
“I apologize for not saying anything earlier. Or if my unnatural behavior is off putting to you in any regard” she admits, her gaze still drawn to the water, though her voice grows just a little more vulnerable. “But... I’m glad you’re here. I was not quite sure why I invited you, but now that you’re here, it feels... right.”
Tech listens intently, his eyes never leaving her face, the quiet moonlight catching the curve of her features. His chest tightens in a way he can't quite place, and for a fleeting moment, it feels like everything else falls away. The gentle sway of the boat, the soft ripples in the water—they all fade into the background, and it’s just the two of them, sharing something unspoken.
She glances over at him then, her expression open, her gaze steady. The depth of her words sits heavily between them, and he feels a strange, pressing need to somehow ease it—to say something that conveys just how much it means that she’s trusting him with this. That he understands that sometimes behavior may be irrational and that is okay. That she shouldn’t feel the need to dull herself for his sake. That she’s making him feel a comfort and acceptance he’s never felt before. But even as he searches for the right words, something else presses on him, a pull that he can’t ignore.
He finds his hand reaching out instinctively, brushing lightly against her arm at first, just enough to confirm she’s still here, still with him. There’s a flash of heat at the contact, one that catches him off guard, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he lets his hand slip around her shoulder. His palm flattened around the skin, drawing her closer, the movement slightly awkward yet almost urgent. It’s not entirely deliberate, not like he’s thought this through, but something in him just... needs to be close to her.
Marina doesn’t pull away, her breath catching for the briefest moment, but she leans into his touch, just slightly, her warmth against him undeniable. The sensation spreads through him, and for the first time tonight, Tech feels that curiosity that’s been plaguing him slips his mind, so that he can focus on the here and the now.
She doesn’t seem to mind the closeness, and yet her eyes stay focused on the water. But the air around them feels different now, charged. He wonders if she can feel it, too—the way their proximity seems to spark something between them that perhaps started friendly and is now shifting into a place he hadn’t considered.
His voice comes out quieter than usual, the words soft and hesitant, as if he’s afraid to break the moment, afraid that acknowledging what’s happening might somehow make it disappear.
“I’m honored that you trusted me with your story,” he says, his voice huskier than he intends. “I didn’t expect to be part of something so... meaningful to you tonight. Also although I admit your behavior is unexpected I assure you it it is not off putting,”
For a moment, the only sounds are the gentle lapping of the water and the soft rhythm of their breathing, but the silence isn’t comfortable. It’s thick with something unspoken, something lingering between them—something neither seems ready to name.
“Sorry if I overwhelmed you when you were expecting research,” she says, her brow furrowing with concern, as if suddenly realizing the weight of what she’s done.
“Nonsense,” he replies, his words warm, almost soothing. “Whatever’s happening right now is far more important than anything I imagined for this evening. I—” He pauses, watching the way her gaze traces his face before he continues. “I’m glad I came.”
Marina’s smile deepens, soft and tender, a quiet affection blooming in the curve of her lips. She shifts slightly, turning her body more toward him. The opposite shoulder to the one he is holding nestles against his outstretched arm, resting against his bicep. The subtle movement brings her even closer, her side brushing against his, her warmth seeping into him like a fireplace on a cold night.
“I’m glad I get to share this with you,” she whispers, her voice barely a breath, as if the words hold the power to change something between them. Her hands reach up, settling carefully on his shoulders, hesitant, testing his reaction. When he doesn’t pull away, she lifts them higher, the soft contact sending a shiver through him.
Tech feels the delicate pressure of her fingers against the sides of his goggles, her touch tender as she gently slides them off, resting them on his forehead.
The air between them thickens, heavy with all the things neither of them dares to say. His breath catches in his throat as he watches her, unable to look away. The world around them seems to hold its breath, charged with a palpable tension—an unspoken electricity in the space between them. And yet, all he can do is sit there, inches from her, caught in the stillness, the moments stretching, building into something far more than either of them can voice.
Something in him shifts again—an unfamiliar desire to be even closer, to bridge that last small gap between them. He doesn’t know if it’s the way her gaze flickers to his lips, or the warmth in her voice that makes his chest tighten in a way he’s not used to, but before he even knows what’s happening, he moves—slowly, deliberately—his one hand still resting on her shoulder, but now his other hand drifts slightly, brushing against her back. The contact is light, tentative, but the way she leans into it just enough makes his heart race in a way he didn’t expect.
Marina's breath catches as Tech's fingers trace the curve of her back, sending a spark through her skin that seems to resonate with the beat of her heart. The world around them feels still, like a held breath, and for a moment, everything else fades into the background. It's just the two of them, the tension between them thick and palpable, like an unspoken promise hanging in the air.
Tech’s gaze flickers down to her lips, and the space between them becomes so small, so charged with possibility that he can feel it in his chest, in his fingertips. There’s an electric pull, something magnetic drawing him closer, and he leans in slightly, just on the cusp of closing the distance between them. 
Marina’s eyes are locked on him, her pupils dilated, her breath steady but quick. She’s not pulling away. She’s not hesitating either. And that simple truth makes everything feel even more real—more intense. He wants to kiss her. He knows it, and it feels right, and the moment is stretching in a way that makes time slow to a crawl.
But then, just as their faces draw even closer, just as Tech can almost feel the warmth of her lips against his, she gasps, her eyes snapping toward the water with an excitement that almost knocks the air out of his lungs. “Look!” Her voice rises with a mixture of joy and wonder, pointing urgently at the water. Her fingers tremble with excitement as she points toward the glowing light in the distance, the mōlī fish rising to the surface. The air shifts instantly, the moment between them slipping away like sand through his fingers.
Tech follows her gaze, heart still racing, but now the quiet, intimate connection feels like it’s been severed. His eyes take in the mesmerizing sight of the fish, their glowing bodies casting a soft, ethereal light just under the water’s surface, a breathtaking natural phenomenon that he would never have expected to be so enchanting.
Marina’s face lights up, the wonder in her eyes infectious as she watches the fish dance in the water. Her excitement is so pure, so unrestrained, that it fills the space between them, pulling him into the moment with her.
Tech glances at her, his chest tightening at the sight of her so animated, so alive with joy. Despite the moment slipping away, despite the rush of disappointment that’s flooding through him, he can’t help but feel a heat spread through his body. She’s so present, so open, and even as the tension between them eases, something else starts to settle in its place—a deeper respect for her in this moment.
As she springs to her feet, a smile as bright as the sun spreading across her face, Tech instinctively pushes himself up to join her. Her excitement is palpable, her eyes shining with awe as more of the glowing mōlī fish begin to surface, gracefully swimming closer to the boat. For a fleeting moment, Tech is completely absorbed in the wonder around them, the sheer beauty of the sight washing over him, making him forget the tension that had nearly clouded the evening. But just as he feels he’s taken in the full splendor of the scene, his gaze shifts, and he catches sight of Marina again.
He’d grown so used to her normal behavior. Marina was calm. She was an overcast sky in the early morning. Still. Subdued. Only occasionally allowing subtle humor to break past her otherwise stoic nature. Her excitement was rare to witness and often came in the form of soft exhales through her nose. She was not robotic per say, but she aligned more with his own behavior. This explosion of emotions was far cry from the woman he had come to recognize.
She’s standing next to him, her eyes wide with pure amazement, her body practically vibrating with excitement. Then, without warning, she twirls on her toes, her arms flung out as if the rush of joy is too much to contain within the confines of her frame. Hands shaking and arms moving up and down like a bird preparing for flight. The movement, albeit a bit unnatural, somehow radiates with him. The sight of her, so unabashedly filled with childlike wonder, almost causes him to lose his balance and tumble into the water, a soft laugh bubbling up in his chest. The fish, radiant in their bioluminescent glow, are undoubtedly breathtaking, but the image of Marina, watching them with such unfiltered reverence, is far more captivating to him given how much it diverges from how she behaves normally.
Tech’s thoughts drifted back to his cadet days, remembering how, in moments of pure elation—whether from a new discovery or a successful training exercise—he would often burst with an energy he couldn’t quite contain. His body would betray him in those moments, trembling with excitement, his hands fidgeting or his feet tapping without his consent. It was natural then, but as he grew older, he began to realize that such outbursts weren’t typical. He wasn’t very old when the awareness started to creep in, and it became undeniable when Crosshair, ever the sharp observer, coined the word ‘odd’ to describe it. He’d mockingly called him "Porg," a nickname that reduced his genuine expression of joy to something silly, something to laugh at. But to Tech, it wasn’t funny. The playful teasing only made him retreat further into himself, and he learned to suppress those exuberant displays of emotion. His joy became something quieter, less noticeable—just the subtle tapping of his leg or the rhythmic rubbing of his hand along his pant leg. Or adjusting his goggles on his face.
Now, watching Marina, he was reminded of how he used to be, before the Kaminoans, the regs, and even his own brothers pointed out the “oddities” in his behavior. There, in Marina’s uninhibited excitement, he saw a reflection of the boy he had been—a boy unashamed of his physical reactions to joy. And for a fleeting moment, he wondered if he’d been too harsh on himself, too quick to stifle what felt so natural. The way Marina let herself be fully absorbed in the present, unrestrained by the world’s expectations, made him question whether perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing after all. To be so overwhelmed with joy that it couldn’t be contained, that it spilled out in visible, almost childlike expressions—it wasn’t something to hide. It was, in its own way, a beautiful form of unbridled freedom in the stimulation.
Despite the magnetic pull of Marina’s enthusiasm, Tech knows he would never forgive himself if he didn’t fully appreciate the mōlī migration. With a reluctant sigh, he tears his eyes away from her, pulling his goggles back down over his eyes, ready to dive into the scientific beauty of the moment. The fish’s movement is hypnotic, their delicate, fluid motions like the flicker of flames. The glow they emit is far brighter than he expected, not the soft glow he imagined, but a radiant blaze, as if the creatures themselves are stars come to life beneath the water.
The faint rustling of fabric reaches his ears, and he assumes it’s Marina shifting to get a better view. But then a sudden splash disrupts his focus, pulling his attention back toward her.
Tech’s eyes widen, and his breath catches in his throat as he processes what’s happened. Marina—who was just beside him moments ago, fully clothed—is now in the water. Most of her clothes are gone, replaced by the shimmering glow of the fish, as she giggles and splashes, completely uninhibited. The water around her glows with the same bioluminescence, the fish swirling around her in a dance of light. Though the rippling waves distort her form, the sight is almost painfully beautiful, the contrast of her laughter against the ethereal glow of the sea creating a surreal, intoxicating image.
Tech’s mind races, struggling to process the scene in front of him, but no matter how he tries to focus on the migration, his eyes can’t help but be drawn back to Marina, glowing in the water, a part of the wonder that surrounds them.
His mind struggles to find a foothold, every logical thought slipping away as his gaze lingers on Marina, her laughter echoing softly through the night air. The glow of the mōlī fish reflects off her skin, casting an otherworldly light over her, as if she’s become part of the sea itself. He watches as she lets herself be swept up in the magic of the moment, her movements light and carefree, as if the ocean had swallowed up any trace of the world beyond. The sight is so intimate, so unguarded, that it feels like something he shouldn’t be witnessing.
He takes a step closer to the edge of the boat, unable to tear his eyes away from her as she floats in the water, the gentle waves caressing her. The water around her ripples with a thousand tiny points of light, the fish weaving in and out of her, creating patterns in the depths.
“Marina…” he whispers, almost to himself, but his voice is drowned out by the splash of water as she dives beneath the surface, her form momentarily disappearing into the glowing abyss. The stillness that settles around them feels as though it could stretch on for eternity. Watching her, Tech is overwhelmed by a rush of emotions and memories, each one flooding his mind in quick succession. He is reminded, in a way that feels almost profound, how much he has come to appreciate her presence in his life. The camaraderie they share has only deepened over time, becoming something more than just companionship—something rich, layered, and almost essential. He’s grateful for the way she brings to light forgotten parts of himself, things he had long buried or suppressed.
In this moment, Tech realizes just how much he’s grown to cherish her, even the simple fact that she helps him reconnect with things he hadn’t known he missed. He smiles inwardly at the thought of how he had once been haunted by Crosshair’s teasing of his behavior—those sharp remarks that had driven him to push down his true self. But now, he finds himself longing for a time when he could be so open with his feelings, when such things weren’t a source of shame. And then, there’s the kiss—the one they almost shared just moments ago. The tension lingers, unfinished, a whisper of something deeper, something that still hums beneath the surface.
Then, she emerges again, her hair shimmering with water drops, her eyes sparkling as she surfaces and looks up at him. There’s something in the way she gazes at him, like she’s silently inviting him into her world, the one she so freely shares with the ocean. The one where their minds, behavior and drive are so aligned it is nearly frightening at the implication. She reaches out her hand, her fingers glowing faintly in the light below, and for a moment, Tech feels his heartbeat quicken.
Without thinking, he reaches toward her, his own fingers trembling slightly as he brushes against hers. Marina doesn’t pull away. Instead, she holds his hand, her grip light but firm, as she uses the other to tread water near where he is still on the lower dock. She tugs him gently, her voice soft but urgent. “You should come in,” she says, her words breathy but filled with intent. “It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before.”
He stands torn, caught between the magnetic pull of the moment and the cautious voice in his mind, still echoing with warnings of what could go wrong. A part of him longs to remain on the sidelines, safely observing her joy from a distance, savoring the comfort of his own space. Furthermore this is something important to her, he hardly wishes to intrude. 
Perhaps it’s the lingering sting of the recent separation, the doubts it has left in its wake. Leena had always asked him to be more spontaneous, to embrace the unpredictability of life, but Tech had never been able to force himself to step into that kind of freedom. The mental block that surrounded the idea of spontaneity made it seem impossible—an unscalable wall. It wasn’t until now, watching Marina in her uninhibited joy, that he began to understand why. He had always thought of himself as adaptable, able to adjust to any situation, yet the idea of exposing himself, of allowing his emotions to spill out freely like Marina did, terrified him. It wasn’t just about the fear of rejection, but the deeper vulnerability that came with it. Even around the people he cared most about—his brothers, who had seen him at his most guarded—it had never felt safe enough to be this open, this raw. Not since he was younger anyway.
But now, in the quiet realization born from watching her, he understood something fundamental. Marina wasn’t afraid to be herself in these rare moments, to express her emotions without hesitation, and in that, she mirrored him in ways few could. The way he was wired—his need for order, his logical approach to everything—could be celebrated, not hidden away. Yet, on the flip side that he could be a logical person who did on occasion experience the illogical. There was no shame in being different, in feeling things deeply and allowing those feelings to show physically. The quietness of his own emotional expression had always felt like a burden, but watching her now, free in her own display of joy, he realized it was a strength—a part of himself that could be embraced because she was so alike him in all his other moments.
Perhaps it’s also the unexpected depth of his own growth—growth that had crept up on him quietly, unnoticed, until he found himself living it in real time. The ease with which he now shared his thoughts, the vulnerability that had once felt foreign to him, felt like a revelation. It was the kind of openness he had never thought himself capable of, and yet here he was, offering it to a new friend with a comfort he hadn’t anticipated. Maybe it’s simply the way Marina—this fiercely honest, no-nonsense marine biologist—had just giggled, her laughter spilling out in a raw, unguarded way that felt as though it could never be contained. The sound was unpolished, loud, awkward even, yet there was a purity to it that resonated deeply within him. For the first time, he understood what it meant to let go completely, to embrace joy in its most unrefined form.
But as he watches her there, bathed in the soft glow of the bioluminescent fish, surrounded by the starlit sky, something inside him shifts. In that moment, a realization settles deep within him: he doesn’t want to just observe anymore. He doesn’t want to remain on the sidelines of his own life. He wants to be part of it. He wants to feel this—the uncontained excitement—just as she does. He yearns to be someone who is steady and structured, yes, but also someone who isn’t afraid to let his emotions rise to the surface without hesitation. Not because it’s expected of him, but because, for the first time in a long time, he understands that it’s the person he wants to be. The person he is becoming.
Watching Marina now, he feels a bridge forming to the boy he had once been on Kamino, the one who could laugh freely and celebrate his small victories without fear or shame. That boy, once buried beneath years of self-restraint and calculated detachment, stirs within him. For the first time in years, Tech feels a connection to that part of himself he thought was long gone.
Tech realizes, with quiet clarity, that he has grown tired of allowing his need for structure and control to keep him from fully engaging with the world. He had never fully processed the association of the fear of rejection with his inability to express joy, especially with Leena. When she had pointed out his emotional reserve, his reluctance to embrace spontaneity, he had convinced himself it wasn’t about her—about meeting her needs—but about the deeper, more internal fear that had plagued him for so long. The fear of making himself too large, too visible, too vulnerable. The fear that if he let himself go, even for a moment, he might damage the relationships he cherished.
It was an illogical fear, he knew that now. He understood that Leena, with her kind heart, would have accepted him for who he was, no matter how restrained or intense his emotions were. But understanding and acceptance, he realized, were two very different things. Leena’s kindness had never been in question, but he wasn’t sure she could ever truly understand him—not in the way he needed her to. And that, he knew, wasn’t a failing on her part. Few, if any, could understand him in that way. The diversion from his ‘normal’ behavior as a child had always felt harsh. But as for his relationship to Leena in that regard, he was to blame, for never giving her—or anyone—the chance to see him for all that he was in his adult life. He’d been too prideful and too guarded.
The difference now, however, is that Marina’s natural alignment with his usual subdued nature, combined with this brief but undeniable indulgence in behavior outside of the norm, offers a sense of security that he’s been searching for. It makes the idea of finding equilibrium feel less elusive, as though it’s finally within his reach. The overwhelming effect feels freeing. Like a mask falling away almost.
Without another word, Tech begins to pull off his clothes. His movements are swift, almost instinctive, the need to be in the water—closer to her—growing more urgent with every passing second. He sheds his shirt, his pants, until he's left only in his undergarments. The cold air rushes against his bare skin, and for a moment, he hesitates, but Marina's eyes never leave him. There's no judgment in her gaze, only quiet encouragement, like she’s waiting for him to take this leap. 
In the final moment, he hesitates before removing his goggles. Part of him wants to keep them on, to let the ever-present recording device capture this moment for eternity. But something within him holds him back. He wants to remember this moment—not as footage, but as a memory. It feels too significant to store anywhere other than his own mind. With that thought, he takes them off, switches off the device, and sets the goggles gently down on the deck. 
He steps toward the edge of the boat, his heart racing in his chest, and then, with no more hesitation, he jumps.
The water greets him like an old friend—cool, enveloping, and vast. As he plunges beneath the surface, the world above him vanishes, swallowed by the deep. The water rushes over his head, and for the briefest moment, the world goes still. It’s as if everything that had weighed him down—the doubts, the fears, the things he couldn’t control—suddenly disappears, dissolved in the embrace of the ocean. It’s a release, a cleansing he hadn’t known he needed, as though the water was washing away all that had kept him bound to the edges of himself. 
Tech spent much of his early life on Kaminon, gazing down at the vast, murky depths of the ocean that surrounded the facilities. The cold, isolating waters seemed to stretch endlessly, a constant reminder of the distance between himself and the world beyond. Life there was quiet, distant, and impersonal. But Pabu... Pabu was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was a place of warmth, a stark contrast to the chill of Kaminon’s waters. The island felt like an embrace, welcoming him with its vibrant energy—pure, unspoiled paradise. However, this side of Pabu, where science intertwined with something deeper, something far more personal, was beginning to leave a profound impression on him. Every passing moment only deepened the impact, and Tech couldn’t help but feel the pull of something greater taking root inside him.
For a long breathless moment, he’s suspended in the glow of the bioluminescence, his body weightless and free, surrounded by the quiet hum of the sea. The light from the fish swirls around him, lighting up the dark water like scattered stars in the night sky, and it feels like the world has opened up in a way he never expected. 
When he resurfaces, gasping for air, the sound of Marina’s laugh is a gentle echo, filling the space between them with something light to break the tension. Her eyes are wide with wonder, watching him with that same unguarded joy. For a moment, neither of them speaks, the silence between them thick with the shared understanding that nothing needs to be said. They’re here, together, and that’s all that matters.
He swims up beside her now, the water rushing over his skin in waves, feeling as if he’s shedding old versions of himself with each stroke. His chest rises and falls with each breath, the fresh air tasting sweeter somehow. He looks at Marina, her face illuminated by the glow of the fish, and a thought flits through his mind: This is what living is supposed to feel like.
Tech had always been starkly aware of the artifice that surrounded his existence. He was a clone, modified in an impersonal lab and a product of science. Natural borns always seemed to contain a distance from him - they were born usually of a loving dynamic. They were blessed with the ability to age naturally. And although his friend had found a way to slow the effects of the aging process, it felt daunting to be granted a normal life. The weight of his past—of the mistakes, the distance he himself constructed, the doubts he held about himself—seems small now, insignificant in the face of this. The only thing that matters is the water, the stars, and the woman beside him, so effortlessly radiant in her joy. 
Tech’s heart pounds in his chest, the pulse a constant thrum that resonates deep within him. The water is cold, the stars overhead seem distant and infinite, but it's Marina's presence that’s pulling him in, urging him to move closer, to close the space between them. It's not just about the warmth of her body, or the desire to be near her. It’s the need to feel something, anything, that’s real. The weightlessness of the water, the energy crackling between them, it’s too much to ignore, too much to just let hang there, especially when inside his mind is screaming ‘thank you’ over and over again for making him feel more seen than he ever has in his life.
He reaches out, his hand brushing against her arm. His fingertips feel a spark, like the air between them is charged, and the contact sends a rush of heat through him. He’s never felt this kind of urge before—this desperation to just be closer, to press into her, to feel her, to know she’s there, anchored and alive next to him. It’s as though he’s been starved of physical connection for so long, and now, with her so near, it’s like every inch of his body is screaming for it.
“Marina,” he says, his voice tight, rough with the need that’s building inside him. “I—” He swallows, the words tangled in his throat, unsure how to articulate this raw, overwhelming feeling. But he knows one thing: the space between them just became charged with a need for something physical. His chest aches with the craving to be closer, to feel her warmth, the reality of her proximity like a release of something that’s been buried deep in him for too long.
Marina looks at him, her gaze steady, and for a moment, it’s as if she’s waiting for him to make the first move. Without thinking, he closes the distance between them, his hand finding her arm, his fingers wrapping around her like he's trying to ground himself. He feels the slight shiver of her skin under his touch, and it only makes the urgency build. He can’t pull back, can’t stop himself.
Marina’s hand lands on his chest, just above his heart, and the simple touch sends a tremor through him. The sensation reverberates through his entire body, and it's almost overwhelming, how much he needs to feel her, how much he needs something real in the midst of the quiet chaos swirling inside him. He leans in, his movements sharp, as if he can’t help himself, like the pull to her is magnetic, primal.
His hand moves to the back of her neck, fingers digging lightly into her skin, and it’s all he can do not to pull her entirely into him. He needs the contact, needs to close the gap, to feel the solidity of her presence in a way that settles the wildness inside him. The space between them has become unbearable, a tension he can’t release, and as he presses closer, her body beneath his fingers feels like the only thing that can ground him.
They don’t speak, not yet. The air is thick with the weight of what’s unacknowledged, but neither of them moves away. Instead, Tech closes his eyes for a brief moment, just to feel her—her warmth, her breath, the way her body shifts against his, anchoring him to this shared experience. And in that moment, with the rush of water surrounding them, with the glow of bioluminescence swirling around them like stars, he realizes that he’s no longer just existing. He’s alive, and this need, this undeniable pull, has nothing to do with the past or the future. It’s just the here, the now, and the quiet hum of the connection between them.
The only thing he knows is that he needs this physiciality—her—and for once, he's not afraid to reach for it.
Despite the challenge of maintaining his balance while treading water, Tech's focus sharpens as his hand slides down to her lower back, his fingers pressing into the warmth of her skin. With a surge of passion, he pulls her toward him with a strength, crashing his lips onto hers. In that instant, as though overcome by a wave of pure euphoria, she mirrors his intensity, returning the embrace with equal fervor. The world around them blurs, their connection crackling in the water like an electric charge, each kiss more desperate, more consuming than the last.
Tech can feel Marina’s fingers carding through the hair on the back of his head, her nails scratching through to his scalp. The feeling makes him groan at how electrifying the stimulus is. In return his grip on her back grows more intense, his fingers digging into the toned skin. He can feel her pressed against the entire length of his body. The chain around her waist, the piercing of her navel, and-
He pulls away quickly, mind having caught up with the experiences his body was undergoing. He laughs. Loudly and awkwardly as it feels foreign to do so. His hand shifted from her shoulder to cup one of her breasts, illuminated by the glow around them. “My, this is a fascinating discovery,” he hummed out, enjoying both the weight and size of her breast in his palm, but also the way the small metal through her peaks caught the light. His thumb trails over the stud and the sound of the purr leaving her lips renews that need once more. “Tech…” she whispers, head lulling back as she gives him more room to notice the way dark hair clings to her shoulder or dimples appear in the corner of her cheeks. The thin white scar running across her chin catches his eye as his thumb trails over the line. 
“You are positively exquisite,” he hums out, lips finding her pulse as he continues to let his hands roam. Everything is soft skin, cool lapping water and the beauty of nature around them. But then he hesitates. “Is it alright to keep going? I hadn’t fully anticipated how much emotional weight this could carry for you, especially with your past and your grief. I want to make sure I’m being respectful of that,” he says thoughtfully.
She looks at him for a moment, as if pondering the words. Tech briefly wonders if he has ruined this wonderful experience by asking but just when he goes to once again speak her hands grab him, dragging him beneath the waves as Tech holds his breath. He soon feels her lips pressing against his once more, this time under the waves. Near his feet he can feel the occasional fin of one of the mōlī fish swimming closer to them. That all fades as both his hands cradle her face, attempting to maintain the connection as long as possible with the buoyancy pushing them to the surface. 
His legs tangle with hers, her hair moving around the two of them as he feels the full extent of her soft skin. Marina’s one hand settles on his shoulder as the other lands just above his waist, her chest firmly pressed against his own. Opening his eyes ever so slightly he can only make out the brief shape under the haze of the salt water as it burns his eyes but with the glow of the fish and her body so close he does not care. 
Before long, the need for air catches up with them, pulling them both back to the surface. Tech gasps deeply, filling his lungs, and Marina does the same, her eyes fluttering open once more.
“While I appreciate your concern, I assure you I am no blushing maiden,” she says with a smile. “This may not have been my agenda tonight, but the deviation is certainly pleasant.”
Tech chuckles, a sound that feels lighter than it has in a long time, as he instinctively pulls her waist closer, their bodies still aligned as they tread water in the gentle ebb of the waves. The ocean tonight is unusually calm, soothing in its quiet rhythm, and he finds himself grateful for the stillness.
The moment lingers between them, and for the first time, Tech realizes something he hadn’t before. It hadn’t been until that moment earlier—the fleeting second when he almost leaned in to kiss her—that he understood the desire that had been quietly building inside him. He hadn’t known he wanted to kiss her until that exact moment, but now, the feeling is undeniable, like a spark igniting within him. He hadn’t expected it, hadn’t planned for it, but as he holds her close, the sensation feels natural, almost inevitable. He feels the pull of something deeper than mere camaraderie, something he hadn’t let himself recognize until now.
Crosshair was right. He did figure it out. 
Tech hesitates for a moment, the weight of the moment settling around them. He pulls her a little closer, his voice quieter now, the sincerity clear.
"I really enjoyed that," he admits, his words slipping out before he can stop them. "More than I expected, honestly." He looks down for a moment, then meets her eyes, the hesitation still lingering. "But I want to make sure—did you mind? Was it too much?"
Marina holds his gaze, her expression thoughtful. After a beat, she shakes her head, her voice steady but soft. "No, I didn’t mind. It felt natural. Unexpected, but not unwelcome."
A wave of relief washes over Tech, but then something else rises within him, something he hadn’t anticipated. He shifts slightly, his brow furrowing as he considers her words. "I have to ask," he says quietly, "Is this the first time you’ve done something like this, since Keiron?"
The question hangs between them, sensitive and careful, but it feels right to ask. He doesn't mean to pry, but his concern for her feels more important than his own discomfort.
Marina’s expression changes, a flicker of something he can’t quite place passing through her eyes. She takes a deep breath, her gaze dropping for just a moment before she looks back at him, her voice softer now.
"No," she says slowly. "I’ve maintained a few casual physical relationships since Keiron. Nothing serious, nothing like this." She pauses, her gaze steady, vulnerable in a way Tech hadn’t expected. "What we just shared is certainly more gratifying. It’s more than I thought I was ready for, but at the same time, it feels right."
Tech takes in her words, feeling a warmth spread through him, tempered with an understanding that runs deeper than he anticipated. He nods slowly, meeting her gaze, as if trying to take in everything she’s just shared.
Tech feels a wave of something new course through him, and it’s not just the gentle pull of the ocean around them. The air between them feels different now, the unspoken tension palpable in a way that’s impossible to ignore. He searches her face, looking for some indication of what’s next.
“Marina,” he begins slowly, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “I don’t think we can just pretend that didn’t happen. That moment. The way it felt.”
She meets his gaze, steady but thoughtful, clearly processing the same thing. "No, I don’t think we can," she agrees quietly, her voice clear, but there’s a certain weight to her words. "It’s strange, isn’t it? How quickly things shifted. But it didn’t feel wrong. Not for a second."
Tech lets out a breath, his chest a little tight but he appreciates her honesty. "I don’t know if this is how we expected things to go, but... it felt important. Even if it wasn’t part of some grand, traditional idea of what this is supposed to look like."
Marina nods, her lips curling slightly into a soft, knowing smile. "I’ve never been one for the 'song and dance' of romance," she says with a quiet laugh. "I think we’ve both spent enough time trying to live by everyone else’s expectations." She pauses for a moment, her eyes flicking away to the horizon before returning to him. "But this—what just happened—feels like it should be part of what we’re building. Not in spite of what’s come before, but because of it. We don’t need to complicate things with rules that don’t fit us."
Tech takes in her words, a light dawning in his chest. "So you believe we should alter this arrangement, then? Make it something more physical? Even if it’s undefined, without the typical build-up or structure?"
She shrugs, her expression open. "Why not? You and I are unlike everyone else in many ways. And sometimes the most honest connections are the ones that don’t follow a script." She pauses, then adds, "If that’s what you want,"
Tech feels a sense of relief, mixed with a deep sense of understanding. "I think I do," he says quietly, the words simple but carrying a weight of truth. "I think I’ve been fighting it, mostly because I truly didn’t understand what I was feeling, but this feels like something we should lean into. Even if it’s not how others would expect."
Marina smiles, the tension between them easing as she moves a little closer. "Then let’s stop fighting it," she says, her voice low and assured.
Tech looks at her, his expression serious now, the weight of the conversation settling in. "I agree but," he begins, his voice quiet but firm, "I want you to know... with all of this being so... undefined between us, we’ll have to be honest with each other. No matter what happens."
Marina tilts her head, her gaze never leaving his, as if trying to read the depth of his words. She doesn’t rush to respond, but her eyes soften, a subtle understanding passing between them.
"I mean it," Tech continues, his brow furrowing slightly. "If we’re doing this, whatever that may entail, I need to know we can always talk—no matter how messy or complicated things get. I don’t want to end up misinterpreting something or leaving anything unsaid."
Marina nods slowly, her expression thoughtful but open. "I agree," she says, her voice steady. "I do not intend to play games. If we’re going to do this, we need to be able to be upfront about what we want, what we need even when it’s uncomfortable." she paused for a moment before chuckling and saying, “although you’ve been fairly blunt with me, as I have with you, so I do not perceive it to be a problem,” 
Tech lets out a soft laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing at her words. There’s a small, reassuring comfort in her response, something that makes him feel more certain about the path they’re stepping onto, even without a clear map.
“You’re right,” he agrees, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Bluntness is definitely something we seem to have in common.” His gaze softens as he looks at her, his voice becoming more earnest.Tech takes a small, measured breath, his mind ticking through the conversation with a careful precision. As much as the moment feels natural, the lack of structure still pulls at him, and his desire to understand everything clearly urges him to address it head-on.
"Marina," he begins, his tone calm but purposeful. "Before we proceed any further, I need to ask. Do you have any preferences when it comes to the physical aspects of a relationship? Boundaries, expectations, or anything that’s important to you?"
Marina’s eyes narrow slightly, as if assessing the seriousness of his question, before giving a small nod. She seems unbothered by the clinical nature of his inquiry, perhaps even appreciating it. "I think it's important to be clear about things," she responds, her voice steady but thoughtful. "I’ve had casual experiences, as I mentioned, but nothing that had a real depth or consistency. Certainly nothing with this level of familiarity. So, I suppose I don’t have any rigid preferences, but I’d want to make sure things are mutual, respectful. I don’t need anything to be forced, and I don’t want it to feel transactional. You know me well enough to recognize that I would likely be honest about liking or disliking certain kinds of physical affection," She pauses, her gaze meeting his with a quiet intensity. "Does that make sense?"
Tech nods slowly, processing her words with his characteristic focus. "Yes," he says, his voice softening slightly. "That makes sense. I don’t want anything to feel rushed or uncomfortable. And I don’t want to make assumptions. If we’re going to move forward, I need to know that we’re both aligned on what we’re comfortable with." He looks at her directly, making sure she knows he’s fully listening, waiting for her response.
She tilts her head slightly, a thoughtful expression crossing her face as she considers his words. "I think the most important thing for me is communication," she replies, her voice steady. "Being open about what we want and making sure we’re both on the same page as we move forward. I’m not expecting this to be a traditional relationship, but if it’s something we want to continue, I need to know we’re being honest about what we need physically."
Tech takes a moment to process her answer, feeling a weight lift off his chest. The clarity of the conversation feels grounding, even if the connection between them is still undefined. "I agree," he responds, his voice more measured. "I don’t want to take any step without being sure we’re both comfortable and genuinely consenting to it."
There’s a brief pause, the air between them feeling calm but charged with the weight of what they’ve just discussed. Finally, Marina nods, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Good. I think that’s a good foundation. We’ll take it one step at a time and speak freely."
Tech meets her gaze, his mind finally easing from its earlier tension. "One step at a time," he agrees, his tone steady but sincere. "And if anything changes, we’ll talk about it."
The simplicity of the arrangement feels like a solid beginning. There are no grand promises, no rush, just the understanding that whatever happens, they’ll navigate it together—honestly, carefully, and with mutual respect.
Before either of them can say more, he finds himself pulling her gently into an embrace, his arms slipping around her waist as the waves continue their steady rhythm around them. The water around them shifts with the movement, a soft swirl of sensation as they float, bodies close but not suffocating.
For a moment, Tech feels the weight of everything—the complexities, the unspoken things—seem to vanish. It’s just them now, this quiet, shared space in the water where they don’t have to explain anything, don’t have to fit any particular mold.
Marina lets out a soft sigh, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders as she leans into him. He feels the warmth of her body through the coolness of the water, the rhythm of their breathing synchronized in a quiet pulse.
“It’s strange,” she murmurs after a beat, her voice almost lost in the hush of the night. “I never thought I’d find someone who... just understands. No expectations. No need for grand gestures. Or even explanations of aspects of who I am.”
Tech exhales slowly, his voice soft but steady. “I didn’t think I would either.” He pulls her in a bit closer, just enough to feel the reassurance of her presence. “But this feels right. This... uncomplicated but comfortable space.”
Her head rests against his, and for a moment, the only sound is the gentle lapping of the water against their bodies. It's a simple connection, but there’s something so deeply profound about it. No words are needed, just the quiet understanding that whatever this is, it’s real.
He closes his eyes for a second, letting the sensation of the moment settle within him. When he opens them again, Marina is still there, her gaze soft, her expression peaceful. It’s as though the uncertainty has melted away, leaving only the quiet certainty of their shared space in the water.
“Thank you,” she says, her voice quiet but filled with meaning. “For allowing me space to feel comfortable,”
Tech shakes his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Ironic,” he pauses with a small shake of his head and a chuckle, “I was going to say the same to you.”
She returns the smile, and for a brief moment, everything feels perfectly balanced. Whatever happens next, he knows they’ll continue to navigate it side by side.
As the ocean gently rocks them, Tech tightens his hold on her, not out of need, but because he wants to. He wants this—whatever it may turn into. Nudging his head along hers, for the first time in a long time, he feels like he can let go of the weight of expectation, allowing himself to simply be present.
Unguarded.
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As a Reminder this Lovely Art is by @leenathegreengirl!
NEXT Part>>>> HERE
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victoriadallonfan · 8 months ago
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You see Victoria being labeled as a potential Tyrant by Fragile One get brought up sometimes and there are plenty of discussions about her character traits itself could evolve that way… but less so for the actual plot/events go within Ward itself at the time as for what could have gone wrong/what Vicky could have done in the confines of Ward in particular if she went that way? It begs the question what future/events in was Fragile One seeing/thinking could happen?
As the numero uno Victoria understander I’m curious if you’ve thought on it/spotted those potential points of divergence in the text?
That's really what arc 13, 14, and 15 were all about.
Arc 12 primed us with Victoria having a panic attack when Jessica refuses to answer her calls when she needed her most, and Fragile One noting that she could lift Victoria up if she abandoned her morals to enforce her will. Even prior to this, arc 9 had the first thing Goddess offer Victoria was a small country to rule as its leader (and the alignment made Victoria see Goddess as a mentor figure), and arc 8 had Carol warn Victoria to not act as a tyrant and try to impress her will upon the people. Arc 13 has Victoria come face to face with the consequences of her actions in the form of the Exile world, where the villains on the level of Mama Mathers or Cradle are secretly (sort of?? The court and Judges seem to be aware of it??) sent off world to live in the wilderness with camping supplies until they are found legible for parole. It is a dark and heavy scene, with Victoria even putting on a dark mask to emulate Blind Justice that hides her expression.
Except 2 things challenge Victoria: Drillbit and Colt. Victoria does not believe Drillbit should be exiled and says that it feels wrong, but she is paralyzed by what to do, because she doesn't know how else to handle someone who is routinely a danger to others. Drillbit takes this out of her hands and goes through it of his own will, but it bothers her nonetheless.
Colt, however, is a child. She did some pretty shitty things even before she got powers (like trying to help villains kidnap Kenzie) and more after, but she was only 13 AND we know - as does Victoria soon after - that her mind has been damaged by her Shard (quite literally, her interlude describes her Shard as destroying parts of herself). Seeing Colt, and perhaps galvanized by her issues with Drillbit, Victoria says she wants to help Colt and prevent her from the Exile sentencing and tries various roundabout means of doing so (including getting Jessica onto defending Colt's mental state).
Furthermore, Victoria finds her new mask a hindrance. Many times, she remarks that she hates how it hides her expression and makes her feel disconnected from people. She ultimately abandons it even, when she appeals to the supervillains of Earth N in a very human way, and never wears it again.
The rest of the arc also has Victoria slowly have a mental breakdown as Teacher's machinations harms her relationship with Jessica permanently, makes her paranoid about what Kenzie thinks of her, makes her see the worst of heroes and villains, and feels as though all the hard work she's put in saving the city has been for nothing. By the end of arc 13, she is a bawling mess who is desperate for any way to feel like she has done something good, which leads to her helping give Sveta a humanoid body.
Arc 14 follows 13 pretty much directly, with Victoria both faking and not faking how upset she is with the public that they fell for Teacher's manipulations, but also that people like Gary Nieves are victim blaming and helping engage terrorists in gaining power. Much of the debate between her, her team, and Gary is representative of how Victoria wants to connect with the public, convince them with facts and explanations, but feels as though there is a deep divide between what they want and what is reality. She even darkly considers simply ignoring them and their complaints forever.
However her stay at Shin and being abused by their jail and government, at the threat of them killing millions of innocent people, has her realize that she doesn't believe she could just ignore them. That if worse came to worse, she'd sacrifice her own well-being and endure this abuse and her rapists machinations for the betterment of others.
Arc 15 is actually pretty simple in how it shoves Victoria's in a face to face conflict with a real tyrant: he is someone who has taken over a planet, has enforced his will upon others, and is convinced that only he has the right answers. She is around to hear other characters discuss how lifeless and without any human care his own buildings are. He treats people as disposable tools and weapons, forcing Victoria to commit grisly killings and see the deaths of hundreds of good people and even more that were mind-controlled. Her own teammates are broken mentally, crippled, and a potential love interest killed by the epitome of Tyranny.
I think this is pretty much where Victoria abandons all potential of putting herself "in charge" so to speak, and the Tyrant possibility is put to bed forever. There is no more allure, consciously or subconsciously. All she associates with the idea is pain, death, and grief.
I think if one was to consider and genuinely want to write Tyrant Victoria, one needs to have her be taken away from seeing Drillbit, from interacting with Colt, feeling frustrated with how much her darker changes get in her own way, and from being in Shin and realizing how much she values people having free-will over her own desires.
If none of this happens, I could see a Victoria who - when fighting Teacher - would think that if she was in his position, SHE would be doing better. That she could fix the system by herself, get rid of all the bad people, and do the Right Thing.
She could become Goddess, in that scenario.
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dreamzghostz · 11 months ago
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TELL ME ABOUT THE TALENTSWAP AU NOW!!!
OKAY, I'M SO GLAD SOMEONE FINALLY ASKED ME ABOUT THIS.
So, this Talentswap AU, it's like the average killing game
*Oh no, Celestia (the protag) got kidnapped and forced in a killing game with 15 other students. She finds Kiyo (the support), and they have to escape, waaaah*
To be honest, what inspired me to make this are Danganronpa V3 (I like how they have features like Scrum Debates, Argument Aranments, and Mass Panic Debates), and the Danganronpa: Another series
So, yeah, everyone's talents are swapped. If you click on the "Danganronpa: A Dice of Despair" tag, you can see everyone's designs and talents. So, what I mainly want to talk about are the characters, their talents, and their personalities, backstories, etc.
There will be a LOT of yapping below, so keep reading if you wanna
‼️‼️TRIGGER WARNING FOR MAJOR SPOILERS IN DANGANRONPA, DARK IMPLICATIONS, AND PERSONAL/SENSITIVE TOPICS‼️‼️
Celestia Ludenberg - Ultimate Lucky Student: So, in this AU, Celestia is the protagonist. She has a mix of her and Makoto's personalities. She can be cold and a douche at times, but she does care about everyone. Here, she has a mix of good luck and bad luck, but they both work at the same time... Somehow? Her real name is still Taeko Yasuhiro, and she made up her fake name to hide who she really is since her family has very dark secrets that could easily crumple her reputation if spilled. Hence why she also doesn't believe that she's really the Ultimate Lucky Student.
Korekiyo Shinguji - Ultimate Swordsman: Here, Kiyo is the support/deuteragonist. Celestia runs into him after escaping into the gym. In this AU, he's aloof, smart, but also starts showing kindness after a while. In Chapter One, he's the one to snap Celestia back to reality after she has her initial panic. He can come off as a bit hostile, but that's because growing up, he didn't have many friends as he spent most of his time training since his family are mostly famous warriors.
Sayaka Maizono - Ultimate Gambler: In this AU, she's more of an anti-hero then an antagonist. She's pretty rude and demanding, and she uses Kiibo to her advantage since he's the Ultimate Butler, and growing up, she had many butlers and maids to her aid whenever she needed them. Eventually, in Chapter Two, Sayaka starts to see that Celestia isn't a bad person, and starts to open up to her. Sayaka's cruel and sadistic personality stems from her childhood where her mother was killed by being burned, and her father basically abandoned her, so Celestia's really the only person she likes. Also, she ALWAYS wins every gambling match (Always? ALWAYS.) As well, she's a bit narcissistic, and thinks she's above everyone.
Byakuya Togami - Ultimate Gamer: Here, Byakuya is more of like an AI (like Chiaki), because his father wanted an heir, and none of his kids were "fit for it". So, Mr. Togami got a friend to create Byakuya. Though, Byakuya was never interested in the Togami Corporation, and took an interest in video games instead. He's a bit insensitive, but does mean well. He doesn't express much emotion, but is protective of the people he cares about, and he has a deep sense of justice. He knows his father doesn't love him, but as long as he has video games, he'll be happy.
Chiaki Nanami - Ultimate Pop Sensation: In this AU, Chiaki is a human. She's a lot more energetic then her game counterpart, and is like who she was in Danganronpa 3. Ever since she was a little girl, Chiaki had dreamed of being a famous star, despite her parents' wishes. She loves to write songs and sing with her group, even though after Chiaki gets trapped in the killing game, her girl group gets killed by the Ultimate Despair, which sends Chiaki into despair, though she masks it well. She'll write a song for everyone in the place, and she'll sing it as loud as she can. She's a great friend to have, like a golden retriever!
Gundham Tanaka - Ultimate Traditional Dancer: So, growing up, Gundham's home life was pretty bad. His family was VERY strict on what he ate, what he wore, and what he said. His house was near a street, and every afternoon, he would sneak there and feed all the tabby cats, making him gain their trust, and making him feel a sense of comfort. He's kind of an asshole in the AU, since he had a bad home life, and it left a huge mark on how he viewed people. Unfortunately, he doesn't want to warm up to anyone, as he's secretly scared they'll just use him, so he closes himself off, and he only trusts the tabby cats.
Hajime Hinata - Ultimate Inventor: Hajime's mother was rarely in the picture, causing him to develop a very close relationship with his father. When his father got ill and passed when Hajime was ten, he found all his father's unfinished inventions. Determined to finish them, Hajime worked for hours, nights even, to make his father proud. Hajime gets his vulgarity and bluntness from the highschool he was at before Hope's Peak Academy, since the crude and rudeness was basically the norm at where he was. Also, yes, Hajime is Izuru in this AU, though I'm still trying to figure out how to write that.
Mahiru Koizumi - Ultimate Astronaut: She's the Antagonist of the AU, so I probably should have placed her up way higher, but I'm too tired to change it. So, Mahiru's mother was an astronaut, and Mahiru has always been intrigued by space. In the village she lived at, she would tell the younger kids stories about space and amazing astronauts, forming a close bond with them. Unfortunately, a few months before Hope's Peak, Mahiru's village was burned down, leaving Mahiru homeless. When she saw the advertisement for Hope's Peak, she took it in a heartbeat. She's kind, a little naive, and protective to make sure she can keep everyone as safe as she can.
Mikan Tsumiki - Ultimate Pianist: School was a very tough time for Mikan, as she was always the targeting of bullying, though she felt safe in her music class. After a very traumatic event, Mikan basically clung to her piano, playing it every day, as many times as she could. She's shy, but also very determined and kind, and she's quite skilled at the other instruments other then piano! Which she personally finds to be very cool!
Nagito Komaeda - Ultimate Anthropologist: Nagito's house was very close to a library, so every day, after school, he would stop by the library and find a book. The ones about culture and evolution were the ones that intrigued him the most. He spent most of his childhood in the hospital, so the library was like a safe space for him. He's also aloof, but somewhat disturbing and also mature. He has to keep a close eye on Hajime, so he's basically Hajime's babysitter (lol).
Sonia Nevermind - Ultimate Detective: Sonia was always very smart, even as a young child, so she didn't have very many friends as she got frustrated by people who weren't as smart. One day, the detectives brought her in to see if she could help them with a case, and she solved it, pretty quickly. She can solve cases quicker then the average detective can. She's pretty quiet most of the time, but she also has a strong sense of justice, is no-nonsense and quick, and she really doesn't have as much empathy as she probably should.
Kaede Akamatsu - Ultimate Princess: So, Kaede is the princess of Japan, so she also has to follow strict and unfair rules. She often but heads with her parents since she wants to actually be her own person and not follow their rules. Her parents had arranged a marriage for her, and when she found out about this, she quickly signed up for Hope's Peak to escape this. She's kind, charming, curious, and always willing to learn. She may not give the best advice, but she tries her best!
Shuichi Saihara - Ultimate Artist: Shuichi here seems like your average Joe. He doesn't really talk highly of himself, and he just does art as a hobby, so he wasn't really expecting it to become his actual talent, lol. Despite all of this, he's fairly nice and pretty chill, but can also be pretty morbid due to the fact he was born and raised in an unusual church. No, he isn't religious. Also, he loves art, but he doesn't draw eyes when he draws people, as he finds it difficult to do (this will come in handy later).
Kirumi Tojo - Ultimate Magician: Growing up, Kirumi always loved magic. She was a street magician for a while before being allowed to enter a school that allowed her to embrace her interests. She's kind, energetic, and kooky since she had been seen as a "weird kid" by most people growing up. Despite this, she's incredibly loyal to those around her, and she can be scarily serious when she needs to.
Kiibo (Idabashi) - Ultimate Butler: So, in this AU, Kiibo is also human, so I will refer to him as Kiibo Idabashi. He always loved helping people, despite what they asked him to do. His father, Professor Idabashi, spent a lot of time on robotic engineers, so that led Kiibo to wander off... a LOT. He always enjoys to serve people, and he enjoys Celestia's company. He doesn't like Sayaka much though, as she uses him. There are also times where he feels empty, like a robot. Though, he's hardworking, devoted, and can take on even the hardest of tasks.
Rantaro Amami - Ultimate Photographer: Rantaro still has twelve sisters in this AU, and they always loved for him to take pictures of them, to where they would even ask him daily to take pictures of scenery they liked and outfits they liked. Rantaro found himself enjoying photography, even in the darkest of times. At first, he's bossy and a bit stubborn, but he eventually learns to trust his classmates and even befriends most of them. After that, he's kind, still a little stubborn and bossy, but more willing to hear others out. Also, him and Korekiyo become quite close very quickly!
I'm SO sorry that I talked more about the characters and their backstories then their roles!! I'll make a relationship chart of them in a post eventually. Also, this took a long while and isn't my usual content, so my bad! Also, if you read all of this, thank you 💕
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callipraxia · 20 days ago
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On my lunch break, I was thinking about stories, as I'm sure we all do, and it occurred to me...The King in Yellow. The first four stories are the foundation of the Yellow Mythos, but what in the world does "The Mask" have to do with any of the others? And yet not only is the play mentioned in passing, but it also has the famous bit where Camilla and Cassilda ask the Stranger to unmask as its epigraph. So, being a perfectly sensible person, I proceeded to sit down about an hour and a half ago and read all four stories straight through, and am trying now to figure out if the characters are connected in some way other than just through having read the same maddening play....
Hildred Castaigne is, of course, stark raving mad, so it's...debatable, at best, how much weight anything he describes in "The Repairer of Reputations" can be given - but after rambling about the near future for a bit, the story begins at Washington Square. While he is there, Hildred observes a statue, which he says is of the Three Fates and which he claims was made by someone named Boris Yvain, who died in Paris at the age of twenty-three.
In "The Mask," the next story, we hear a great deal more about Boris - he is a good friend of the narrator, Alec, and their mutual friend, Jack Scott. Boris is a sculptor and apparently a bit of a chemist, and Alec and Jack both seem to be painters. Alec begins telling the story when Boris is alive and well and the Fates are still in his studio, unfinished. It's mentioned in the third or so scene that Boris is twenty-three and that Alec is twenty-one, and then Boris' wife Genevieve contracts a fever and babbles about being in love with Alec during it, at which point Alec goes home and promptly also falls into a serious illness - this all the same day that Alec happens to read The King In Yellow, which Boris just has a copy of lying about for some reason. Jack Scott stays with Alec while Alec is seriously ill for a long time; while ill, he thinks Boris comes to visit him, but when he tells Jack about this after his recovery, they are both disturbed by the fact that Boris apparently visited Alec at least two weeks after Boris had, in fact, committed suicide right in front of Jack Scott after accidentally turning Genevieve into a marble statue (it's an odd story). It's also related by Jack that Boris worked on the Fates just before the accident, so he could have conceivably finished the faces, completed the statue, and then died at twenty-three in Paris, just as we were told by Hildred Castaigne. Boris also left his house to Alec, who leaves it, along with the statue-like body of Genevieve, behind while he goes on a long trip abroad, until Jack writes him to tell him he's having terrible nightmares about Alec and Boris and is determined to see that Alec is well for himself. Seeing this does not actually improve Jack's condition, though, so Alec packs Jack off on an international trip and finally moves into Boris and Genevieve's house. The story ends abruptly one day when Alec gets a hysterical, apparently insane letter from Jack begging him not to leave the house, then realizes that all the living things Boris turned to marble are coming back alive, at which point he runs to the sculpture room just in time for Genevieve to awaken...and that's it, we have no idea what, if anything, happens after that.
"In the Court of the Dragon" is easily the least comprehensible of the stories, and also the one where, after reading it through carefully twice tonight, I'm pretty sure nobody is ever given a proper name. First an unnamed narrator goes to Mass, hoping to feel better after sleeping poorly because the night before, he read The King in Yellow. This means he almost certainly cannot be Alec (who ended up needing a doctor only hours after reading the play) and is very, very unlikely to be Jack Scott, for reasons I'll discuss when picking apart the last story. While there, he becomes convinced that the organist is evil and that the organist hates him, and has a vivid nightmare about the organist appearing in impossible places, stalking him all around Paris, and finally chasing him down at his home, an apartment in an area called the Court of the Dragon, at which point the back door turns into a grave vault and then...our unnamed narrator wakes up with church ladies giving him pointedly disapproving looks. He thinks it was just a nightmare for a few seconds, but then sees the organist again, starts hallucinating sights of Carcosa, and is convinced that the Organist is the reincarnation of someone who ought to be in "the awful abode of lost souls, whither my weakness long ago had sent him." Then it ends with him thinking the King in Yellow is talking to him.
Finally, we have "The Yellow Sign," which is...at least as lucid as "The Mask," anyway, but that helps approximately not at all with figuring out what's what. Our first-person narrator is a painter, and his model addresses him as "Mr. Scott," which makes it seem entirely possible that he is the same Jack Scott who was friends with Alec and Boris back in "The Mask." Most of the plot is about how he and his model are terrified of an unhealthy-looking night watchman at the church next door, which plays music Mr. Scott finds upsetting, and how they both start having nightmares about the night watchman driving a hearse with a not-actually-dead Mr. Scott in it, but then, he finds a copy of The King in Yellow in his house - something which should be impossible, because he's sworn up and down he'll never, ever read that play because of "the awful tragedy of young Castaigne, whom I knew." This is why the narrator of "The Court of the Dragon" is probably not Jack Scott, although Jack Scott also resided in Paris at one time and even though Mr. Scott, like the narrator of CotD, is a Catholic with a horror of bad organists. Interestingly, despite reading French newspapers and talking about how the love of his life may or may not be dead in a forest somewhere in Brittany, Mr. Scott seems to reside on Washington Square in New York - the same place where Hildred Castaigne started his story. As they swap nightmare stories, it comes out that he and his model, Tessie, are attracted to each other, and he talks about feeling an obligation to her even though he'll never marry her - much how Alec had a persistent delusion in his fever that he owed some overwhelming responsibility to Boris and Genevieve. After Tessie reads The King in Yellow and is apparently rendered catatonic by it, Mr. Scott also chooses to read it and go mad with her; he and Tessie then talk about the play for a while before they hear a hearse outside and Mr. Scott sees the night watchman rot the door bolts with a touch and come into his apartment to rip a pin that Tessie had just given him off of his jacket - a pin which bore the Yellow Sign, which the watchman appeared to know Mr. Scott was somehow going to obtain. Somebody screams, and when people come to investigate, they find Mr. Scott dying, Tessie already dead, and the watchman also dead - and the doctor announces that based on the state of the corpse, the watchman's been dead at least a month.
Mr. Scott's demeanor doesn't align terribly well with Jack Scott's, but all things considered, it seems likely enough that they are the same person - even though Hildred only seemed to know of Boris Yvain while Jack Scott knew the man personally. Hildred, however, is an unreliable narrator in the extreme, so that doesn't necessarily mean much, and it's possible Jack could have known them both without them ever knowing each other. If some version of that is true, then Jack Scott is the narrator of one story and is/was a friend of two of the other narrators (Hildred and Alec). Chronologically...there's literally no way to tell what's going on with "In the Court of the Dragon" that I can see, but the other three would have to go in the order of "The Mask" followed by "The Repairer of Reputations" followed by "The Yellow Sign," even though in the book, they're printed with "Repairer" first, "Mask" second, and "Yellow Sign" fourth - a chronological issue that probably helps add to the disjointed creepiness of the collection, since at the very least, "The Mask" had to happen before "The Repairer of Reputations," what with Boris being alive for part of one and already apparently dead at the beginning of the other. So...I end up with...what?
If Mr. Scott and Jack Scott are the same person, then clearly, he is somehow Important - important enough that everyone around him eventually gets drawn into whatever the heck the King in Yellow is doing to/with him. Because of the timeline issue regarding when he read The King in Yellow, though, one of two things has to be true about the narrator of "In the Court of the Dragon:" either Jack somehow repressed the memory of reading the play in Paris until after the zombie watchman started coming around in New York, or the guy in CotD is a different guy entirely. Is he Alec? The title of "The Mask" is derived from Alec's feeling that he's been wearing a mask for two years as he's tried to hide being in love with Genevieve, even though he knows Boris knows and this is actually apparently the basis of their friendship. After Genevieve babbles about being in love with Alec in a fever, though, he finds it too awkward to attempt to talk to Boris about it and just goes home and immediately gets sick. It's...possible, I guess, that Alec could feel his "weakness," in either not discontinuing the friendship once Boris and Genevieve married or in rushing out of there the night of Genevieve's fever, was somehow relevant to Boris' death, even though Boris is said to have killed himself because he created the magic potion that turns living things into marble and then decided it would be a bright idea to fill a bathtub with it, which Genevieve promptly jumped into, apparently without knowing what it was. Thing is, though, that Alec seems to...maybe, anyway, get an at least somewhat happy ending: he's not clearly insane, Genevieve isn't a statue anymore, and Genevieve isn't married anymore, though she presumably doesn't know that yet. This is a massive contrast to the tone of the endings of all three of the other stories, and cursed play is only mentioned in passing, twice, in "The Mask" - once when Alec reads it, and once when Alec thinks about the Pallid Mask while ill. As far as we're told, Alec then pretty much moves on with his life - he doesn't go mad, he doesn't kill anybody, he doesn't see Carcosa in the waking world, etc. What's so special about him, and why is his story the one with an epigram from the Play?
Then there's the dreams. Jack seemingly has mildly prophetic ones in "The Mask," as does Tessie Reardon in "The Yellow Sign." Mr. Scott starts having the same nightmare as Tessie after Tessie tells him about her nightmares, but there's nothing to suggest that Mr. Scott has any other memory of weird dreams or hysterical letters to some dude in Paris or anything like that. So...did Jack go insane, become the narrator of "In the Court of the Dragon," and then repress the experience before becoming the protagonist of "The Yellow Sign"? Or has Alec gone even further off the deep end than Hildred by the end of "The Mask," to the point where there's not even any clear hints in the text to clue us in that he's psychotic?
My...best theory, if you can even call it that, is that the timeline is even more screwed up than Boris makes apparent. It's...possible, at least, that "In the Court of the Dragon" occurs during "The Mask," and that it's a fever dream inside of a fever dream that Alec's having while ill. If that's so, then almost all of "The Mask" happens first, with "In the Court of the Dragon" happening offscreen during it. Afterward, Jack Scott went home to New York, where he became acquainted with Hildred Castaigne, who became convinced he was the heir of the King in Yellow or something along those lines and then died in an insane asylum. Since something apparently went wrong with a girl named Sylvia back in France, Jack at that point just decides that friends and girlfriends aren't for him, until Tessie comes along. Then he somehow survives his illness/madness at the end of "The Yellow Sign" in order to realize some stuff and write the crazy letters to Alec that we hear about at the end of "The Mask." In which case, "The Mask" is the story that 'happens,' with all the others happening inside it? Which I suppose could explain why it got the epigram, despite being the least obviously Carcosa-influenced of the stories?
It's not a perfect theory by any means, but...that's as much as I could get out of it. TL;DR - this book is crazy, everyone in it is crazy, and if that theory's vaguely correct and Alec and Genevieve are still alive at the end of "The Mask," it's not going to end well at all, and we can probably safely assume they promptly go mad and/or die as well. Hurrah!
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sehtoast · 1 year ago
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Tender Threads CH3 (Homelander x OC)
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chapter three: initiation
chapter directory | slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, spidersona as original character, original trans male character, smut, sublander
summary: time to make it official. speeches, crowds, and vought's guard dog watching his every move. better not mess up, bug boy.
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Word was out by fault of a leak.  Before the official announcement by Vought, news outlets had plastered Spidey over every flat surface and digital medium possible.  It wasn’t the first time Ben had made international news, but it was the first time it was to a scale like this.  He’s been a hot subject since becoming one of the only ‘rogue’ supes to not choose outright crime, though vigilantism was still technically illegal.   But he had droves of public support and pretty much always has.
Spider-Man had been gasoline added to the fire in the debate of unlicensed heroes.  He wasn’t the first, but he was certainly one of the more popular ones– though Ben could never fathom why.  Within three years of first donning the mask, he found himself trending on social media on a nearly regular basis for reasons both good and bad.
Spidey Doesn’t Kill.  Spider-Man Saves Victims Before The Seven.
Debates on his morals or potential lack thereof.
He’s not getting paid for it, obviously he’s doing it because he’s a good guy. 
What if he’s just some sick freak that wants an excuse to beat up on people?  
It was… a lot.
But it’s never been anything like this.  At least the outrage of the handful of exceptionally vocal few was satisfying.  Especially that weird guy that runs The Bugle.
Ben was given a script for his formal introduction.  Vought was going all out.  A stage, cameras, a massive crowd…
It was fucking scary.
He’d met Stillwell a week prior.  Just do it the way Homelander does, she’d said to him.  As if it were that easy.  As if his entire life wasn’t just upended by both the world’s most powerful supe and conglomerate.
So here he stands, just a few blocks away from the stage in Central Park.  Waiting for his little queue.
He can hear her over the loudspeaker.  Insincerity and public posturing dripping from her voice like venom.
Ben hates these types.  He’s dealt with them a lot in his job– well, old job– and something about her was so… wrong.  The way she smiled at him when he lifted the pen from his contract, name forever etched, soul forever sold.  Maybe it was how soothing she tries to be.  Soft voice, gentle eyes, even though behind it all is just another soulless little–
“I am so thrilled to present to you,” she says, voice bouncing off buildings and into Benjamin’s ears.
His queue to jump, to dive low and arc high.
“The newest member of The Seven–”
Go, go, go!   Drag line– zip– push off the wall– dive, momentum, go for the spectacle!  Razzle dazzle ‘em, Ben! C’mon, Stillwell! Say it!  Say the fucking line!
“The Amazing Spider-Man!”
Just as the words fly off her tongue, Ben comes into full view of the crowd.  Cheers erupt like deafening thunder, seemingly drowning out the city.  He peers down as gravity corrects his display of performative agility, sending him on a dive toward the stage.
A zipline to the rafters is all he needs to stick the landing, a quick handstand to add that pizzazz that was demanded from him, and a web from which to dangle upside down as he waved like the good little performer he was.
It wasn’t without its own beauty.  Even upside down those signs were clear as day.
We Love You Spidey! 
You Saved Us!
NY ♥️s Spidey!
The cheers, the kids in shifty little homemade costumes, his signature hand gesture that releases his webbing being held high by thousands...
Even in the air, he couldn’t see the end of the crowd.
But there’s no time for his brain to blue-screen like this, especially not when Stillwell all but grabs him and directs him to the podium.
Oh fuck, public speaking.  Christ, Ben thinks to himself, okay, imagine them all in their underwear…
The roar of the crowd silences in mere seconds as they wait for him to speak.
Thank god for the mask.  And the podium… fuck, are my legs shaking?
“Hi, everyone.” Ben begins, clearing his throat awkwardly.  He had a lot to nail here.  Poise, confidence, and whatever else was gonna help make supes look competent enough to belong in that defense bill.  Yeah, Stillwell made sure he knew not to fuck up their future as Lockheed Martin’s biggest competitor.
One step out of line could be catastrophic.
“I just… I wanna start by thanking everyone, y’know?  Everyone here, out there, friends, family… the whole shebang.”  He starts, letting the thunderous applause run its course before moving on.  “But most importantly, I want to thank Vought for giving me this chance–”
Gag, gag, gag!  This is horrible!  Ben thinks to himself as he runs his script.  Part way through some babble about small beginnings, he notices a flash of red and white behind the proscenium wall of the stage.
Homelander’s here?
“I’m just so incredibly grateful to be standing here today, y’know?  I hope I make you folks proud.  Thank you,”  oh christ, here we go with the raw corporate vomit, “and god bless America!”
Blegh.
Ben takes the slightest step away from the podium, and it’s like a jet engine firing up right in the middle of the park.  Screams and cheers, applause and all sorts of noise making doohickeys.  Beside him, Stillwell ceases her own claps to gently guide him from the podium.  Then, the noise explodes.
Whatever fanfare was for Spidey becomes infinitely louder when those colors sway out from behind the wall.
“Oh, no!  Hey, you guys!”  Homelander shouts to the masses, his smile wide and happy as he makes his way to the microphone.  He claps a hand against Ben’s shoulder and pulls him back to the podium to stand with him.  “C’mon, let’s hear it for Spider-Man, eh?”
Homelander leans in as the deafening uproar picks back up.  “Bet’cha don’t get that as a vigilante, huh?”
Then, as the noise dies down, Homelander begins his own performance.
“I, for one, am incredibly glad to have this fella join our team. It’s unfortunate that Translucent was injured so badly by an unknown enemy during his last mission, and I swear to God that we’ll find whoever is responsible and bring them to justice!” Homelander pauses. “But, I know that Spidey here will bring his own incredible qualities to our team, and I very much look forward to working with him, and the rest of The Seven, to keep our country, and world, safe!”
Perfectly impassioned.  Voice strong, tone bold but somber for his incapacitated friend.  Humble and domineering, but worthy of adoration.
He’s one hell of a spectacle up close.
Homelander’s arm slings around Ben’s shoulders, indicating that he, too, should wave to the masses.  He was showing the world how friendly they are with one another despite the real deal behind the scenes.  Despite what he’d said and done to the bug.
Benjamin wasn’t going on a patrol tonight.  No, no… after today, all he wants to do is curl up and hibernate.  Maybe it was all of the dread and anxiety for his big reveal day that had weighed him down, but he felt so heavy.  There was no way he’d be able to resist a nap on a rooftop at this rate.
Besides, this was probably one of the last times he’d ever sleep a full night here.  Well, most of a full night, given his sixth sense’s tendency to rouse him at odd intervals.  
Vought was moving him in.  Sure he could keep the apartment, but what was the point?  All of his things were going to be transferred by Vought’s moving services, so all he really had to do was pack everything up even though he technically didn't actually have to– the moving team would handle everything.  Not that there was much he could have in a studio apartment, but…
He’d gotten as far as boxing up his clothes, but everything else was still as is.
Instead of doing more, though, he just grabs that same guitar whose strings Homelander nearly broke, lays back, and picks a melody until drowsiness turns to pure exhaustion.
Unaware of the eyes watching him through the walls.
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The boy was… a curious thing.  Obligation had turned to fascination, fascination became fixation, and fixation became obsession a little too quickly for his liking.  But that didn’t stop Homelander from continuing with his observations.  
It never does.
He was almost grateful that killing the bug was off the table completely.  Had he done so in that alley, he wouldn’t be here now, being practically serenaded– well, all except for some singing that Benjamin has yet to unknowingly perform for him.  Everything he’d seen over the last few weeks had driven him insane.  
Why in the hell would such an extraordinary supe choose this?   The mundane, the boring, the simple.
The mud.
He could have been so much more so long ago!  And Vought?  Vought waited this long to pursue and sign him?  What a fucking joke!  Homelander would’ve taken him over Starlight in a second had they pitched him earlier.  He supposes, though, that it was because they had been taking formal auditions back then…
But what a specimen this Benjamin was turning out to be.  So bold, yet so timid.  So happy and sad all at once.  Human, yet impeccably super.  And so very fun to watch live his boring little life.  Homelander will almost miss watching the web-head scramble to make it to work on time, swinging around the city in his cheap dress shirt, spider suit stuffed in a backpack, and then doing that stupid job as a… oh, what was it..?  Some kind of tech bullshit, whatever it was.  
Suffice it to say, it’ll be magnificent with the bug living in the same building soon.  Easier to observe that way.
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ghouldtime · 10 months ago
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Hiii it's me again lol
Okayokay, so I just finished reading your rant on the COD fandom's unique choice of pet names, and I'm gonna be straight up and say I'm going completely off topic and INSTEAD veer off to a side thing you pointed out to give my own opinion! This is a kinda hot take so I'm just screaming into the void hoping someone shares my thoughts 🖤
Sooo we all know the Ghost comics released alongside the OG MW2. I personally haven't read it due to the TWs but I've seen enough screenshots and summaries to get the gist of what happens. HOWEVER I believe those comics are only canon to 09 Ghost and doesn't apply to reboot Ghost, and this is what I meant about it being a hot take cuz almost everyone in the fandom agrees the comics happens for both. And I can definitely see why! I mean, we didn't exactly get any concrete backstory regarding reboot Ghost, so anything goes.
Where I stand on the line, I'm a firm believer of reboot Ghost being Just A Guy™️like he had a (relatively) chill childhood but there are some things that stay the same with the comics. Like Tommy scaring him with the skeleton mask when they were children, and Simon enlisting after the 9/11 attack (not sure if those are canon, it's just what I've heard so please correct me if I'm wrong). No abusive father, no Roba, no Christmas trauma. Sure it makes him less interesting but I find it pretty amusing how the person wearing a skull print balaclava has no real reason behind wearing it other than it looking cool lmao
Anyway, yap fest over! Hope you have a wonderful day/night and remember to hydrate! 🖤
- Biscuits 🌺
SALUTATIONS it's good to see you again, I hope you're doing swell as well :D 💚💚💚
Technically, what you're saying is true!
The '09 comics pair with the '09 character and are indeed cannon for only him as far as I'm aware (someone feel free to correct me if I'm wrong). The reboot lacks a true significant backstory. As in, if you search it up, you basically get "he joined the SAS and is super cool and is great at doing cool soldier things and probably can do a sick backflip". What we know about the reboot is basically what we experience in game. And until we get either another game focusing on his earlier life or have confirmed scenes of it, we really don't know.
Personally, how I distinguish "Ghost" as a being is as three versions.
You have '09 Ghost. '09 Ghost is the one we experienced in the OG games and the comics. He's the dead one - and the one with the actual official backstory. Those are both cannon and are tied to him as a character.
You then have Reboot Ghost. Reboot Ghost is, as the name entails, the reboot alone. Basically, what we have of him and know of him is what we experience in game. Technically, we don't know his backstory and the full extent of his life. Is it similar to his '09 counterpart? We don't know. He's kinda the "What you see is what you get". There's some things implied with his dialog but most of his story is up for debate.
And then we have what I'm calling Fandom Ghost who is the most common variant. Fandom Ghost is neither the reboot nor the '09 version - he's a middle ground. He's what everyone is thinking of when you hear 'Ghost'. Usually how I've seen him portrayed is the reboot with the '09 backstory or some semblance of that.
(Side note: I know it's quite typical to specify when you're referring to '09 Ghost specifically because he does, of course, have a very different history and outcome. Not to mention, the dynamics with him and Soap are very different than in the reboot which is another reason why people usually clarify and go "This is who I mean")
I've never actually seen a TRUE reboot Ghost that wasn't fandom based or fanon in writing, now that I think about it. Probably because it's not that easy to write about a character in a limited sense where you don't know much about them and you have to stick to the limited material you're given.
A lot of COD operators lack a significant backstory outside of their military history. That's mainly done because they're videogame characters of a military, shooting focused game and they don't usually have the time to go into depth as to why that character is the way they are. They're primarily soldiers who are saving the world and playing their role. You might see snippets here and there but the focus isn't on their background or the inner workings of their character in a very personal way, aside from what is revealed on missions to add a natural perspective and make them see more human
Because it's not like in the middle of a life or death situation you're going to sit down and explain that you had a dog growing up, you had three sisters, your favorite drink is Baja Blast, and you have a lifelong fear of Burger King.
'09 Ghost, however, we GOT a backstory. We were given something to work with. Clinging to that or melding it with the reboot, who lacks a backstory, is what a lot do because it's trying to make use of the best source material we got until we can maybe get something else too. Personally I was a fan of that backstory because it DID add depth to him, significantly so. I liked it.
Additionally, I think a LOT of people go that route too because it's something that's quite easy to look up so they don't need to make something themselves
(This is an entire theory and me putting on my tinfoil hat: There's a lot of people in the COD fandom who are just here for the big beefy men and don't do their research, haven't played the games - they're just assuming things. And when they see the fandom Ghost, they just assume it's true, and it spreads when they write their own stories. I hope this doesn't read like I'm trying to gatekeep or 'HOW DARE YOU NOT KNOW EVERYTHING' or 'you're not a true fan unless-', cause I really really really do not care. Do what makes you happy, but I'm going to avoid reading what I feel mischaracterizes him for sexual purposes alone hardcore)
I also like to imagine that maybe the team doing the reboots has enough common sense too to not entirely scrap such a backstory as hey, it IS interesting, so there's a strong possibility that reboot might share some origins. Kidding, I'm being fully delusional here and know they won't do that and will likely just ruin it and I'm hoping they don't have a chance. I know any new one they come up with -like the writing in the last campaign -would be utter carbonated hot dog water and I do not trust them at alllllll. I'm refusing to accept reboot Soap's death but that's a rant for another time
That being said though, there's technically no correct backstory yet for Reboot! Ghost aside from what we already know. Anything that adds backstory or melds anything else to him is making him fanon/fandom!Ghost (which is by far the most common iteration and the one people default too)
I love when people give him, and other COD characters, happy or somewhat not dramatic backstories. They already have enough going on with the wars they're thrown in, I live for them having a scrap of happiness and normality. I can't blame people for not wanting to write or deal with heavy backstories and it's nice to see variety and is SO super valid.
But at the same time, I also do like his OG backstory, I love seeing when people dig deeper into the gritty stuff too, exploring that side of characters because not everyone has the best life growing up. And joining the military and when they join can be telling too about their home life
Variety is the variety of life and when there's not exactly a cannon, then I love seeing people make their own reasonings and conclusions and write fanfics with their own theories. It's SO fun to explore what other people think and it really results in some of the sweetest fics that dive more into depth than the official writing team ever could hope to
The Ghost that I write are usually AU Ghosts anyhow so it allows me more flexibility in what I write. BUT if I'm writing for Ghost, I do the blend where it has more of the '09's backstory but his reboot vibes. THAT BEING SAID
I love making him just, A Dude©, still despite that. Having a bad past doesn't make him any less of a person - nor does it make him this ultra mega tough dominant edgy sigma bad boy. He's literally just a GUY. Sure, he has extensive SAS experience and training to boot. Sure, he's easily one of their top soldiers. He's a stone cold killer when he's Ghost. He's there to do the job.
But Simon? Simon's just a dude, like everyone else - they all are at the end of the day. Sure, they have their own personal struggles and do have to go through a lot, but they're still people. He goes to the grocery store and is genuinely confused about all the options of milk now (how the hell did they milk HEMP). He still makes his bed and has to fight the fitted sheet to stay on, using his size and strength to force it in place before it can do 'the thing' that all fitted sheets somehow do. He bought a bird feeder so he could watch the wildlife as he drinks his tea for breakfast. Speaking of tea, he has a whole collection! And the good shit, you know he won't settle for any less.
He's just A DUDE© at the end of the day and I love those mundane things because hell, he needs them to still feel human and to be reminded exactly what he's fighting for
I just find it so silly and ridiculous when he's consistently like "I'M Batman: I AM THE NIGHT" sheer dramatic levels of broody in stories or when he's put in as this mega dommy bad boy who is 6'5", growling constantly, and is like the posterchild for a wattpad biketok fanfic.
Lmaooo be for real, he's out here doing arts and crafts to make his masks. He has a whole paint collection and everything. He went into the craft store for paint and came out with two new hobbies and no, I'm not listening to anyone who says otherwise
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wolfertinger · 1 year ago
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I'm half tempted to just be anon but, I wanted to give my two cents on everything that's happening and say that your posts helped me come to an understanding how I feel.
I am a very real account and not a faceless mask for haters to doubt. I have done my research on all of the old pup stuff and current Salem stuff.
I desperately want to believe Salem can change and heal and be better, but their apology made no real attempt to divide themselves from what happened. The apology felt more-so like "I do not condone what happened, but like a different person enough to warent no hate, but not different to act differently or let go of ocs." It irks me. I looked up to Salem a lot as the face of transmascs and was thrilled he had transfem characters. But now, knowing that this is the person with the puppychan "alter," someone who has lied and lied and *LIED* about everything before. How can I believe him now? Pup has fetishized transbians and transwomen before, which leaves a very sour taste in my mouth with transmascs that don't present masc at all. I ate that up when I thought it was just a small little bunny boy online but now I just... Feel so betrayed. All of it feels disengious and like another lie. I struggled for hours debating on trans ethics on identity and if someone who was transfem can be transmasc and it feels so gray to me. It's confusing. Who ever reads this, please don't Harass Salem. I desperately want Salem to be better and hope He will be. I'm begging that we never get another reason to not trust Salem.
^^^
i agree with what you say completely. puppy had a very long history of lying especially if it would garner him sympathy or pity. the most glaring examples i can think of is when he lied about being "deathly allergic to blueberries" just to suicide bait like this.
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puppy also randomly claimed to be both psychotic and schizophrenic when they got called out for using a meme using the term "schizo meltdown". neither illness has never been mentioned before or since. this is why i have so much skepticism about his claim of dissociative identities especially as we find salem and puppy act, talk and draw identically.
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i also think puppy/salem was never transfem. this was a common misconception because of the sheer amount of transfem fetishization he was constantly putting out over years. which is really saying something.
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these tweets are from years ago and yet read exactly like the posts salem is putting out now. its honestly fucking weird how everyone is just fine with this.
also agree with salem supposedly "reclaiming" ocs from puppy. he makes such a big deal about being a different person from puppy then goes "this is *my* old oc" ??? are you puppy or not?
thank you again for your bravery and speaking out. i appreciate your two sense on it.
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moon-fics · 2 years ago
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The Lime Light (prologue)
A/n: I had to reupload this bc I messed up some editing but now it's up for good!
Summary: After disappearing from the spotlight you finally return. However, a rough night and a scandalous paparazzi photo causes you to forge a new PR relationship with the beloved actor, Peter Parker.
Rating: PG 13
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The light is too bright in the questionably damp room as your agent's, Elizabeth Allen, voice blurs into the background. Stress drones out all noise from the outside world, filling your ears and mind with tv static. You rub your forehead to ease the unsteady feeling inside, your heart beating louder than a drum. 
"So, you'll do it right?" Liz asks, her voice full of hope. You know that you've been letting her down recently, avoiding roles that would boost your audience. "You can't keep turning down roles or they'll stop requesting you," She warns, wagging a finger at you.
If she was anyone else you'd snap at her, telling her you just aren't feeling the role. However, you both know you've been using that excuse for months and she's too sweet of a woman to yell at. 
It's a good plot, one that would win awards if done right. A love story with tragedy that isn't expected until the last act. A girl in love with a man with a double life, but she's in love with his secret identity and hates the man behind the mask. It's cliche beyond belief, but almost everything has already been done in Hollywood. 
"Have they gotten anyone relevant in the cast?" You ask with a heavy sigh, sitting up straight in the chair. You're now alert and invested in the conversation, at least as much as you can be. "I mean, I'd rather not work with a cast full of new faces," It's a harsh thing to say, especially since you started out in the same spot as them.
Liz nods, a burst of energy coming through her, “So you’re actually interested?” She squeaks as you nod in hopes it’ll satisfy her. It's the first time in a while you've shown interest in any gig she's gotten you, which to her, is a huge deal. She quickly shuffles through a file which you can see contains an out of order script. 
"Here we go," She hums, placing a paper with a list of names on it. You hesitantly reach for it, sliding it off her wooden desk. It's covered in scratches from her pen pressing too hard on paper, a few coffee stains as well. You smooth out the paper, starting on the first name. 
Felicia Hardy is the first name you recognize and you're surprised she isn't the lead. Instead she's stuck as the supporting actress who eventually dies off to progress the plot. From what you've heard about her, she'll throw a stink about it but eventually agree to her character's fate.
Your eyes scan over names of actors you've neither met nor heard of. You're relieved when you finally land on Harry Osborn but it's gone when you see a question mark drawn next to his name. That could mean many things but the two most likely is that he either hasn't decided or the casting director is still looking.
"Is Harry still dropping roles after what happened?" You ask, glancing up from the paper. You should know the answer, you should be asking Harry himself. But after witnessing something as gruesome as his incident, you couldn’t bring yourself to call him once he was discharged. Liz is no longer sitting in front of you, instead she's organizing her desk. She's nervous, why wouldn't she be? 
"From what I've heard from his agent," You forget that she has connections, that she's no longer a young woman struggling to keep actors. Just like how you're no longer a child sitting in a chair you can't fit in; your mother making sure you can't speak for yourself. Her words still echo in your mind telling you to cry on que and to never get close to your co-stars. "He's debating giving up acting entirely." She shrugs, tightening her bun. 
The news doesn't surprise you in the slightest, what happened was traumatizing. Even though you had only watched what happened you still have flashes of broken bone and blood on an expensive set. Even now you cringe at the thought. 
"I know you get along with Harry and I really think he might accept the role!" She cheers up, placing her hand on her desk. You wait for an explanation, already knowing she'll tell you without a prompt. "His best friend, Peter Parker, is the lead role." She squeals. 
Liz is a huge fan of Peter Parker and often laments about how she regrets not signing him to her company,at the time she thought he was a one shot wonder. He's a brilliant actor who has a great streak in the industry and a huge following of fan girls. Somehow every movie he's been in has been a hit, something an actor can only dream of. 
As much as you want to continue to pretend like you aren't known by millions, you have to suck it up. You can already feel the all nighters and coffee on your breath. As the buzzing in your mind slowly begins you hold out your hand.
"Hand me the script."
-  -  -
You stare at the boy in front of you, at least a year older maybe two if you’re generous. You’re examining him from afar, imagining how he looks at every angle just so you can get a feel for him. You’ve never worked with a boy around your age, not in such a serious role like this.
His hair is well kept and he never leaves his father’s side. A part of you knows he only got this role because his father is directing the movie, I mean, Norman Osborn always gets what he wants. So why wouldn’t he want his son to become just as famous as him?
You’re so transfixed on taking note of his every feature you hardly notice your mother approaching you. Your first big role and she’s not letting you out of her sight, she calls it a precaution, but you know she just wants to keep her strings attached to you. Even at the ripe age of thirteen you understand her love is purely based on your achievements. 
Eventually, you’re thrusted onto set to practice your lines with the boy… and holy shit you’re nervous. You’re too new to acting to have any fame get into your head but you have no clue how this boy will act and honestly, you’re terrified he’ll get you recasted.
As you approach the set decorated to be a middle class kitchen your hands are sweating. You’re lucky Mr. Osborn has allowed you to hold onto your script or you might forget every line even after the hours of late night practices. Before you know it you’re standing a few feet away from the red, no brown, wait maybe both haired boy. 
“I’m Harry,” The boy speaks first, holding out a hand. He isn’t even holding a script, he’s confident he knows his lines which only makes you feel worse. You hesitate to shake his hand, worried he might crush your hand or secretly tell you how out of place you are. “I heard this is your first time in a position like this!” He continues, a genuine and bright smile spreads across his lips.
Finally, you use your voice and take his hand, “I’m Y/n, it’s nice to meet you,” You’re taken aback by how soft his skin is and how he doesn’t insult you for being nervous. Something about him is warm, he’s like a fall candle that you light at night when you can’t focus. 
“You shouldn’t be nervous just because my dad is the director. He can’t replace you,” He assures you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You don’t understand what he means, actors get replaced all the time for the simplest reasons. “I specifically chose you to work with and my father won’t risk my career over something as small as forgetting lines!” He gestures to your script, his head tilting to the side. A strand of hair falls out of place and suddenly you’re reminded that he’s not some big shot, he’s a kid same as you.
With a new determination in your chest you give him a solid nod. You feel special, you feel wanted for the first time in a while. Harry chose you to work with out of who knows how many other girls. He must see something in you, something he wants to work with. With a yell of ‘action’ and a snapping sound, the flame between friends is ignited.
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darthbecky726 · 4 months ago
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DAREDEVIL BORN AGAIN SPOILERS
this is gonna be all my thoughts as im watching so im putting the spoilers below the cut
this is gonna be episode one and ill make a seperate post for ep 2
im so scared for foggy right now, this opening is being so happy right in my face the way matt was telling foggy about a restaurant that closed makes me think matt didnt get snapped but the others did or i heard something about them leaving the kitchen
is that kirsten foggy's talking to?? god i hope so it is!! thank you subtitles OUR FOGGY ok the three of them are sooooo cute
THE WAY THE ASPECT RATIO CHANGED WHEN MATT STARTED LISTENING IN OH MY GOD FOGGYS ABOUT TO DIE
BULLSEYEEEEEEEE
Oh my this cgi is terrible
aaaaand theres the trap FOGGGGGYYYYYYYY NOOOOOOOOO
ok i had to take a pause in typing this up bc holyyyyy shitttttttt
TIME SKIP I FUCKING KNEW IT
AAAAAAAAAaaaaannnnndddd heres fisk oooohhhh i love vanessa
i support womens wrongs SPECIFICALLY when its her and here comes wilson to tap his fingers together and make weird comments to vanessa
ok that shot of him with the halo in the table reflection,,, i see yall the cgi might be shit on the matt swinging around by his billy clubs but the cinematography is still here from the og
also i wanna talk about the theme song bc its different in a way that makes it distracting almost but i dont hate it. like nothing is gonna top the original theme but damn its pretty good
i cant believe we have to watch matt lose his shit in court in the opposite direction
WE GOT A BLIND JOKE i just wish it wasnt like this
matt is soooooo dramatic i love him. literally as he should be, foggy was the love of his life/ his best friend/ the love of his life
literally LOCK HIM UPPPPP sorry dex ily but you KILLED FOGGY HOW COULD YOU
oooh ok karen moved to san fran thats interesting this is such mcu dialogue but its not terrible i like it
"let the system handle it" while the theme music fades in is hilarious
i love that he cooks in the dark literally of course he does why would he ever need the lights on
ok not fisk ruining all of matts inner peace as per fucking usual
also i love matts new apartment matty your food is burning
the politics in this are sooooooooo current and this guy whos ass kissing right now is a type of guy ive met and they actually believe this horseshit and its sad
murdock & mcduffie's logo is the daredevil mask
this cinematography is interesting also i like the nod to matt speaking spanish OOOOOHHHH KIRSTEN SET MATT UP WITH A THEREPIST i love her so muchhhh
him and his scruff i love him so much awwwwwwww theyre cute i like them together im a little upset matt and kirsten arent a thing but i think she was holding a candle for foggy
so this cherry guy is the new brett?? i miss mahoney, he better make an appearance.
ooohhhh the civil war debate on a vigilante level??
OOOOHHHH the organ music i love it
i cant believe fisk is bringing up foggy omg messsssss
the way matt carries around the braille funeral bulletin everywhere he goes matt when youre on a date youre supposed to pay attention to the date not the tv in a building behind you. also watching them kiss right after getting quasi broken up with is a bit painful but whatever
this is very current events coded omg
matt cannot resist the cries of his fellows, the city needs him and he has the ability to help. the fact that hes been able to hold out for a whole year is wild but it truly did take foggy's literal death to accomplish so whats that say about matts mental state
the "born again" aspect for both matt and fisk is very interesting, theyre both very insistent that theyre "not that man anymore" but the control on their lives is slipping away from them both in interesting ways. im very excited to see where they take this for both of their characters
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