#Listen something about men with ponytails who also have dead dads just gets me
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Okay, but now I gotta ask: what *were* the reasons why Dynasty Warriors 6 was considered a bad game by the fandom? Thanks and have a lovely day!
HAHA Yes someone took the bait
*Ahem*
Let me start by saying that I actually love Dynasty Warriors 6. It's an ugly duckling but it has a special place in my heart.
Anyway, there were actually a lot of reasons. I wouldn't say any one of them was like The Thing that killed this game in the eyes of a lot of DW fans, they all just kind of came together to leave a really bad impression.
#1) They slimmed down the cast
If you know Dynasty Warriors for anything, it's probably "Three Kingdoms, button mashing, huge cast". By Dynasty Warriors 5 the number of playable characters was approaching 50 playable characters, which is a lot when you're trying to make individualized movesets for each character. All of these characters were playable in the main story campaign, albeit in often less personalized ways. For example, in Dynasty Warriors 3 you would just pick a character, you would play the story for the faction that character was from, and there was only really slight variation in the cutscenes (inserting your officer into important moments and what not) and MAYBE the maps.
Dynasty Warriors 6 was supposed to be a bit of a soft reboot for the series, and so with that they decided to try and slim down the cast. The game started out with only ~40 playable characters, which doesn't seem like they took out that many, right? But, well, every character is someone's favorite, and they made a lot of very odd decisions with it (For instance, keeping Xiao Qiao but removing her sister, when the two of them always came as a pair in the past). Every previous Dynasty Warriors game also featured new playable characters, but DW6 did not introduce anyone new.
This approach also clearly did not work, because in DW7 they not only added back all the previously cut characters, but they expanded the roster further.
This was also compounded by...
2) Only some characters got story modes
Dynasty Warriors 6 is sort of an awkward middle child of the series.
In the earlier entries, you would have a generic Wei, Wu, or Shu campaign (and others, if you had some add ons, e.g. Lu Bu's campaign). It would start with you picking an officer affiliated with the faction, and it would usually end with your faction rather unhistorically unifying all of China under their banner. Like I said before, the huge playable cast was really only possible because these campaigns were generic, and all they had to do was occasionally insert your chosen officer into the cutscene.
It was also really historically inaccurate, given you could pick a character like Zhou Yu, who died relatively early in the timeline of the Three Kingdoms era, but he would of course be alive for all of it. And of course you would win battles that your chosen faction did not historically win just to get your happy ending (e.g. you would win Chi Bi, even if you were on Wei's side).
Dynasty Warriors 7 and 8 (and possibly 9, but I haven't played enough to say for sure) decided to go for more historical bent*.
In these games each faction has a campagin, but instead of picking a playable officer from the start and carrying them all the way through, the game makes you pick your playable character at the start of each map. You can play as Sun Jian in the first map of Wu's story, for example, but he dies at the end because... that's more or less where he dies in real life. Then the next three maps you might get to play Zhou Yu, then Sun Shangxiang, etc.
Most characters are only playable for a map or two, but they're all spread pretty evenly throughout the story, so you're always mixing up who you play as and each character gets unique moments to shine throughout as they all contribute to the overall story. It also allows characters to die and lose battles when they're supposed to, as the story will just pick up with the next character and the next major battle. Wei never wins Chi Bi in these games, unless there's a secret "hypothetical" route you've unlocked.
Dynasty Warriors 6 is... well, it kind of sort of tries to be both. It still wants those happy endings from the earlier games, but it wants to give more character focus like the later games.
The solution they came up with for 6 was to have individualized campaigns for each character. These are six stages strung together with cutscenes and narration that are all focused primarily on your chosen character.
Now, the problems with this approach.
2a) Only 17 characters got campaigns
Many of them were fan favorites, but yeah. It was Liu Bei, Zhang Fei, Guan Yu, Zhao Yun, Zhuge Liang [Shu], Cao Cao, Zhang Liao, Xiahou Dun, Dian Wei, Sima Yi [Wei], Sun Jian, Zhou Yu, Lu Xun, Sun Shangxiang, Gan Ning [Wu], Diao Chan, and Lu Bu [Others].
It also excluded many other fan favorites such as Ling Tong, Ma Chao, Cao Pi, Zhen Ji, etc.
Some of the excluded characters did get story modes later, but I'll cover that in a bit.
2b) These campaigns were repetitive as fuck
There are 10 characters who could have been present for Chang Ban. Seven of them have Chang Ban as one of their stages. Which means, in addition to being the absolute worst fucking stage in the entire game no matter which side you play and I still hate it to this day, you have to play it a minimum of seven times if you want to see all of the story content in the game. Don't even ask me how many times Chi Bi appears.
You also have a lot of characters who were present for a lot of the same stuff, which means their story modes are really similar. Liu Bei, Zhang Fei, and Guan Yu often come as a triad, and as a result a lot of these three campaigns are similar to each other. Zhang Fei and Liu Bei share four of their six maps, for example.
2c) You had to play them a LOT if you wanted all the content in the game
Only nine of the 17 story modes are actually available at the start of the game, three for each of the main factions. In order to unlock all of the story modes, you have to play the story modes.
In addition, those other characters I mentioned? The ones without story modes? Most of them are also locked behind hitting battle goals in the story mode maps. Which means you will probably have to replay at least some of the maps in order to unlock everyone.
2d) If you're doing a campaign, you HAVE to use the campaign character for all six battles. Playing Lu Xun? You're playing six battles as Lu Xun, so I hope you like how he plays.
Unless you're playing two-player with a friend, that means every non-story mode character is used exclusively for free mode. Meaning you can't play any story content with them. So if your favorite character is Ling Tong? Too bad, if you wanna use him go grind some free mode chapters I guess. Or buy a second controller and stick Dian Wei in the corner while "player 2" does everything.
(Yes I did that. Screw trying to chase down Liu Bei with the slowest damn character in the game)
2e) These campaigns were actually pretty short.
If you know what you're doing, most of them can be completed in less than an hour. Which means you've only got about... 17 hours of story gameplay.
Now that's just the story mode and basic character stuff. Let's get into the gameplay.
3) They dumbed down Warriors gameplay. Somehow.
In every other Warriors game ever, you have the X button, and you have the Y button. You hit the X and the Y button, occasionally mixing them together to make combos, and things die. This is occasionally supplimented with an A button press.
In Dynasty Warriors 6, you still have your X and your Y button, but you also have something called the "Renbu system". The Renbu system is simple: the more hits you chain, the more flashy your X and Y button presses get. There's no combos though. Only Renbu. Which means you mash one button instead of two the whole time.
Which means that a series already pretty much known for being a basic button masher turned into an even basic-er button masher.
Renbu also decreases if you are not hitting things. The game often forces you to run around for long stretches facing no enemies as you go from base to base, which means you basically never had the highest Renbu all the time when doing a map.
You also didn't get nearly the variety of weapons or mounts you got in the previous games. For weapons you basically had "normal", "quick but does less damage", and "slow but does more damage".
3a) Most of those 40 characters are clones. Especially the ones who didn't get campaigns. In addition to this, they removed a lot of iconic weapons.
Sun Shangxiang, since her very first appearance, always used a weapon called the wheels. They were kind of her thing. Dynasty Warriors 6 decided to give her a bow instead, which she now shares with Yue Ying as a weapon. They play exactly the same.
Lemme tell you, people did NOT like that. I can take different weapons, but having so many clones meant there was basically no reason to play some of the characters (e.g. why would I ever play Yue Ying if I like Sun Shangxiang better and they play exactly the same?)
3b) Some of the fun side stuff you could do in previous games, like collecting characters' best weapons or getting the special horses, was completely removed
Less side content, less things to keep you going after you've beaten the paltry number of story modes, which meant people put it down a lot faster.
Now, remember how I mentioned some of these problems got somewhat fixed?
4) Some of these problems were addressed in a re-release of the game. That re-released happened on a completely different console. No, I'm not kidding.
So Dynasty Warriors 6 released on PS3 and Xbox 360. Then, after it came out, they actually re-released it. It had six more story mode campaigns, five new stages, the Renbu decreased faster so you could keep your combos, and some of the movesets were un-cloned in order to make characters more unique.
The problem? This re-release came out on PS2 and PSP. For some reason. Which meant the graphics and performance got a massive downgrade. Remember as well, the PS3 is not backwards compatible with the PS2. So, yeah, if you wanted to play this then I hope you kept your last gen console around instead of selling it to buy the new one or something.
5) Last point: soft reboot also meant some character re-writes.
Some characters really benefited from this. Cao Cao, for example, was frequently depicted rather cartoon villain-y, to sort of contrast Liu Bei's whole pure good man of the people thing, in the previous games. From 6 onward he was given a lot more nuance. Sima Yi also gets to really live his role as the precursor to the next dynasty instead of just being an evil laughing henchman to Cao Cao.
Then you have... the female characters. Sun Shangxiang was one of only two female characters with a playable campaign in the original release. Y'all. They butchered her. Long story short, historically she's one of the women we know the most about. She had an arranged marriage with Liu Bei to solidify an allyship between Wu and Shu, but from what we know it was purely political and she actually went home after a few years because the ally thing was just not doing it. This is more or less reflected in the pre-6 games.
Dynasty Warriors 6 basically turns her into the biggest Liu Bei simp. Like all of her dialogue is about how lovey dovey she is for her wonderful hubby wubby who is just the bestest person in the entire universe (gag). She even goes so far as to betray her family and fight against them in her campaign, something she has never done previously and, as far as we can tell, never did historically. Unfortunately, she never quite recovered. At least not in 7 and 8. Dynasty Warriors kind of always had an issue with making female characters all about their husbands, but 6 marks the point when they started making characters who were not originally all about their husbands all about their husbands too. Considering the cast of these games is like 4:1 male:female already, that blatant dev sexism mega sucks.
5... .5) Ok I lied about the last one being the last point. But this one is entirely up to taste. A lot of people hated the outfit designs for this game.
I think I'm kind of in the minority here because I actually kind of liked them lol. But yeah there were a lot of people who hated the direction they went. The earlier designs were a bit more grounded with a lot of armor and simple colors. DW had bright colors and feathers everywhere. Definitely bold. Still better than DW7, IMO, with their weirdly modern stewardess Qiao sisters and other nonsense.
Anyways now you might be wondering what I actually like about the game, since I said it has a special place in my heart. WELL!
#1) Nostalgia
It was the first Warriors game I really played for myself, sue me. I mean I've always had a lot of nostalgia for the series, since my brother played the heck out of DW3 when I was a kid, but I didn't really play 3 until much later.
2) It can actually be pretty challenging if you don't know what you're doing
DW7 and DW8, while great for what they do, kind of had the issue of being too hand-holdy. Because you need to follow a particular historical-ish sequence of events, the game constantly has to direct you around. You can't just Leeroy Jenkins Cao Cao at Chi Bi, for example, because you gotta change the wind, then set the ships on fire, then wait for Cao Cao to get off the ships so he can start escaping, etc.
DW6 DGAF about that. You wanna play Chi Bi by accidentally botching the fire attack and make your life about six thousand times harder? Have at it. Wanna run down Cao Cao within thirty seconds of the map starting? Have fun.
And then if you do want to hit the extra targets or actually strategize, you can do that! I've played with friends in two player and we would literally sit down before a map and have a little strategy session. It was fun!
The first time I played DW6 I got my ass kicked on the very first stage because I kept failing the mission for various reasons. It's definitely the last of the DW games that isn't super mega hand-holdy.
3) It's got a bangin' soundtrack. Probably my favorite of the games I've played
I mean you get to listen to this masterpiece after every map clear. Stunning.
#Dynasty Warriors 6#I probably forgot something don't mind me#It's Ling Tong by the way#Ling Tong is my favorite#And also voiced by Jeralt#Listen something about men with ponytails who also have dead dads just gets me
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A Shadow of What You Used to Be (4)
Chapter 4: Brother, Brother | Cal Kestis x Irele Skywalker
Requested by Anon
Summary: There is another! Years after young Anakin Skywalker departed Tatooine, his mother Shmi delivers a second child—this time, a daughter. Whilst the circumstance of the girl’s birth remains unexplained, Irele Skywalker has yet to choose the true path between those laid out for her.
Tags: Fem! OC, Irele Skywalker, Force-sensitive! OC, Anakin’s Younger Sister, Skywalker! OC, Darth Vader’s Secret Apprentice, Long-lost Sibling
Also in AO3
Chapters: Prelude – 1 – 2 | Previous: Part 3 | Next: Part 5 | Masterlist
5 of ?
They arrived at the moisture farm, the exact one that Watto told them. The domed abode stood out across the surrounding dunes, behind it were the suns hoisted in its point for high noon. As Anakin and Padmé approached, a dark-colored figure got into their better view—little did the Jedi knew that the figure posted outside was the droid he had created years ago.
“Oh!” startled, the droid turned around to face the visitors. “Hello, how may I be of service? I am C—”
“3PO?” Anakin squinted some more, unsure whether the sunlight was playing tricks on his already narrowed eyes.
The droid paused, its photoreceptors processing the face of the young man before him, and then it dawned on him.
“Could it be? The Maker!” the black droid exclaimed. “Master Ani, I knew you would return! Oh and Miss Padmé, oh my.”
At least Padmé was delighted to have been remembered by the droid she has not seen in a decade.
“Bless my circuits! I’m so pleased to see you both.”
“I’ve come to see my mother,” the droid’s maker said in the same steely tone he used when speaking with the Toydarian, affording no moment for the droid to celebrate this small reunion.
C3PO stuttered, unsure how to begin responding to that purpose.
“Yes, well, I do believe it is best I bring you inside.”
The droid stiffly turned around, expecting the human pair to follow, and they were escorted into the ground floor of the Lars homestead.
From the kitchen, Owen could hear C3PO speaking like a tour guide. He had figured it might have been the person he thought would come, he just didn’t realize it’d be today. Out of common courtesy, he—along with the Whitesun girl—came out of the kitchen to greet their guests.
“Master Owen, might I present to you the two most important visitors.”
“I’m Anakin Skywalker.”
“Owen Lars. And this is my girlfriend, Beru.”
Beru managed a smile to both visitors before softly saying “Hello.”
“I’m Padmé.”
“I guess I’m your stepbrother,” he swallowed. “I had a feeling you might show up someday.”
Anakin didn’t take that kindly, he had no emotional reaction to it—he’s just here for his mother.
“Is my mother here?” he demanded, stepping away from his apparent stepbrother.
“No, she’s not,” a gruff voice drew everyone’s attention to its direction, followed by the soft whirring of a hoverchair.
Cliegg had aged, though not quite well, given what had happened in the past. He extended a hand as he introduced himself.
“Shmi is my wife,” he added. “We should go inside. We have a lot to talk about.”
Owen quickly came to his father, taking the two handles protruding outward from the backrest of the chair.
“Where is your sister?”
“She hasn’t come back yet,”
“Well, she better come home quick.” Grumbled the elder Lars only within Owen’s earshot.
They all gathered at the dining table. Cliegg began with how he met Shmi, how he bought her, and eventually freed her. The old man chuckled once as he studied the boy’s features while he was listening in carefully, even while he stares at his hands clasped together.
“You know, it’s funny,” he began, the remark caught Anakin’s attention. “I never realize that you and Irele have the same eyes—but I think she resembles Shmi’s the most.”
Anakin’s eyes shifted shakily, his lips parted but no words escaped from it; he looked alternately between Cliegg and Owen, wordlessly demanding some clarification to what Cliegg said. Anakin blinked once, dramatically so, and finally managed to let out the words: “I… Irele?”
Everyone on that very table exchanged looks, but the other party was more confused and perhaps curious on who’s this Irele person that they don’t know of. Cliegg’s last words also got to Anakin and he decoded it quickly—but as he solved the minor riddle, more questions piled up after the answer. Has his mother given him a sister without his knowledge? Why hasn’t he felt her through the Force? Is she not gifted with the same abilities as he is?
“W-Where… Where is she?”
“She’s probably out in town with the other children her age. Irele is coping, you see, but I don’t think it’s not doing her much good. Overworking, finding and taking one too many odd jobs—more than she can handle—”
“Coping?” Anakin asked for elaboration.
Cliegg guessed there’s no way of sliding his way out of that question. They will come to the point in the conversation on what had happened to Shmi. The mood in the dining room changed significantly. A gloomy silence befell Owen and Beru as they waited for the head of the house to begin the tale.
“Your mother went out early—just before dawn—to pick mushrooms, like she always does. But this one time, she was ambushed by the Tusken Raiders, they had been prowling by the ridge waiting to raid the farms when there’s no one looking—but they saw your mother. They attacked her and took her with them, kept her hostage. And your sister, well…”
The elderly man sighed, taking and then letting out a deep breath, he attempts to continue.
“She left the house to search for her the moment she got out of bed. I found her woken up by a cold sweat, then she insisted that something was wrong. I trusted her, believed her, and let her go find her mother in the fields. She came back empty-handed, I had already prepared a search party. Those Tuskens walk like men, but they’re vicious, mindless monsters. About thirty of us went, only four of us came back. I’d be out there with them, but after I lost my leg… I just couldn’t ride anymore until I heal. I don’t want to give up on her, but she’s been gone for a month.”
The silence was distrupted by the sound of light footsteps, the only noise that rung across the homestead apart from their voices.
“I’m home!” a girl’s voice announced. “Dad? Owen?”
Her voice and her arrival caught the attention of both her family and the two visitors. Anakin stood up and stepped out so that he can see—and be seen—the rotunda. Just a meter and a half away from him was a girl of ten years—nearing eleven—standing from the stairs from where he came when he himself arrived in this house.
Irele was immediately taken aback by this stranger, not because it was a new face—but because she was bothered by how familiar he looked and felt. A good minute has passed and it dawned on her. She knows who this is.
Anakin examined the girl: black hair tied back into a ponytail, donning a woven scarf to protect her from the sands, and a pair of earthy hazel eyes hooded with a somber, unreadable gaze—nearly similar a hue to Shmi’s eye color. Looking at her was like seeing Shmi in her girlhood, for Irele could perhaps grow to be the spitting image of their mother. This is his sister, he thought, but he wasn’t sure what to do or how to react and interact with her—neither of them have known much about the other. And they’ve only just met! To Irele, it felt like she had waited a lifetime to meet him; she always had that feeling, perhaps over time, she didn’t anticipate him as much.
“Irele…?” Anakin uttered.
“H-Hi…” she stuttered shyly, reacting to her name.
Cliegg spun his hoverchair, “Irele, this is your brother. Your real brother.”
Irele’s brows furrowed, she blinked several times as she examined Anakin’s features. Perhaps she could not spot any resemblance yet, but eventually she would have—if she gave it time. As the siblings stared at one another; thoughts, questions, and even comments about each other’s appearances flood their minds.
What does she know about me? Did Mom ever tell her about me?
There’s something I feel about him… though it’s making me too nervous. It’s almost like it’s something bad… or maybe because he just looks a little mean.
Before giving a proper reaction or even speaking a single word, she sprang to her heels and fled to her room, flimsily holding her satchel loosely by the strap, dangling just inches away from the ground as she ran.
The adults dismissed it as bashfulness and also surprise. Anakin did not go after her anymore and went to the direction of the front door.
“Give her time,” Cliegg advised.
“Where are you going?”
Anakin’s eyebrows slightly pulled, but Owen did not notice, “To go find my mother.”
“Your mother’s dead son, accept it. There’s little hope she’s lasted this long.”
In fact, he didn’t. He could never ever. Then Cliegg sighed in defeat, knowing that this boy might be just as stubborn as his little sister. He reached for Anakin’s forearm and clutched it weakly, slightly startling him.
“If you can’t do that… at least talk to your sister.”
The sky had burned into a golden orange hue, sunset was nearing. Night will be upon them soon. Anakin found Irele in the workshop, he recognized some of the apparatus to be Shmi’s—apparently, she had brought those with her when she and Irele were bought.
As he was approaching her, he caught a glimpse of what she was doing—she was piecing together a sort of tech that seemed familiar, along with a little help from her friends in town.
“Irele, I…”
“She told me about you,” Irele matched her brother’s firm tone of voice, though the hint of uncertainty rang along her words. She did not look at him, she spoke to him while keeping her eyes on her handicraft. “A long time ago. I just didn’t think we’d meet at this time.”
Anakin got close enough to get a better look at her tinkering, he examined the small machine and discovered that she was retrofitting a podracer’s dashboard.
Attempting and hoping he’d establish a connection with her, he caved in to listen on what Irele has to say.
“She told me that you were a great racer. You won against Sebulba.”
“Sebulba? He still races?”
Irele turned to Anakin, not exactly surprised that he still remembers the cheating Dug, though a decade’s worth of not knowing anything happening in Tatooine would at least fog his memory. His sister nodded slowly and then returned to fixing the dashboard.
“No, it’s…” she trailed off when she got too focused on arranging the wires. “It’s from a customer in Anchorhead. I used to be in a podracer’s pit stop entourage, when I was like six.”
“Do they still race?”
She shook her head, and answered the question she knew was coming, “Accident. Can’t drive a pod with just one arm, huh?”
Her posture straightened, she moved the magnifying lens away from her, and then secured the dashboard in a leather sleeve before settling it down neatly in the center of the workbench. Irele finally afforded a good long look at her big brother.
Big brother… kinda weird to call him that.
“Ani,” she uttered, though she meant it as a practice of getting used to addressing him when talking to him. She didn’t really intend to call him, but he looked at her anyway. There was a pause before she continued.
“How much did Dad tell you—about Mom?”
It slightly baffled Anakin how casually she called Cliegg her father, he cannot blame her anyway if this is the father figure she grew up with.
“Just enough for me to know,” Anakin answered.
She hummed. Then Anakin decided to ask the question that has been lingering in his mind. If this was his birth sister, was she born in the same way he was?
“Irele, perhaps you can tell me something,” he began.
Detecting the seriousness in his tone, she swiveled the chair to face him, propping her elbow on the table. Staring back at him with those hazel eyes that he cannot gaze upon without remembering Shmi—because he could definitely see his mother within his sister—he licked his lips before speaking.
“Cliegg isn’t really your father, is he?”
His sister stared at him some more with squinted eyes, bobbed her head to the side as she got the idea of his question. She wordlessly shook her head; when she did, then Anakin’s presumptions have been realized—she was exactly like him. Within their moment together of just conversing, he could feel the Force flowing in her, although it was faint and seemingly dormant. In that case, her Force-sensitivity might be still untapped—what seemed to be a small stream on a quiet summer morning will eventually turn out to be a powerful, raging dam. And so it begs the question: will he report her to the Jedi Council?
“He told you about the Tuskens, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“Oh…” Irele’s eyelids drooped as she looked randomly on the floor, avoiding her brother’s gaze. Another moment passed, both siblings were inept in speaking to one another casually—unlike how Irele is to Owen—but then she lifted her head again, and this time, she looked at her real big brother with pleading eyes, suggesting a sense of longing for their mother and sadness. The latter being a dangerous emotion to dwell on. “You’ll bring her back, won’t you… Anakin?”
Then at that moment, Anakin was both determined and burdened to keep such a promise. He was confident and hopeful that he would rescue Shmi, but with such a motivation fueled by the fear of loss, Irele was beginning to sense something ominous from him. In the back of her head, she was regretting what she asked of him. She saw a shadow loom over Anakin, as dark as his long robes that sweep the sand as he strode. Her heart pumped slowly and heavily, it suffocated her and made her nervous.
There’s something not right with him. Something… bad. She thought to herself, her fingers twitched with anxiety. It’s too late to take that back. Anakin has sealed a contract forged from her behest—which was also his. Now she wanted to stop him, because she know something bad was going to happen—executing the same foresight she had for Shmi.
“Anakin, are you alright?” Irele asked, and that seemed to snap him back to reality.
He stammered as he answers, “Yes. I… I just blanked out, I guess.”
“Right…” she groaned with a growing suspicion. “Just… Just don’t lose sight of what you came for.”
Her vague warning would allude to the preceding events. Anakin took her words to heart, and his being a Jedi gave him the advantage to read people better than most, to analyze their motives and desires. Hearing Irele say something like that hints her Jedi-like abilities: her foresight, which was something Qui Gon had noted of Anakin himself when he was still a child.
“I won’t,” he said with conviction, and then he managed a smile in the hopes of easing her spirits. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring her back.”
Irele’s thin lips pursed and watched her big brother turn around to leave her be in the workshop. When his back turned to her, that smile instantaneously melted away; her stomach slightly churned at the sight of his robes shadowing his figure—he looked broader and more intimidating, and quite ominous.
She had a bad feeling. A very bad feeling about this.
#cal kestis#cal kestis fic#cal kestis x fem oc#cal kestis x irele skywalker#cal kestis x irele skywalker fic#fem oc#irele skywalker#skywalker! oc#force-sensitive! oc#anakin's younger sister#darth vader's secret apprentice#long-lost sibling#anon request#anon#requested by anon#fic request#anon fic request
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First Date (7/9)
Tim has one more test to pass before Bruce will allow him out as Robin. Like Dick and Jason before him, he has to avoid being caught by Batman for one night. He has already failed once, and is determined to succeed this time. Determination which might not count for much when Stephanie Brown is on the run from the mob. Her mother kidnapped as a way to threaten her father, Stephanie manages to escape and run into Tim. Unable to leave Stephanie alone when she is in need, Tim decides to try and multi-task. All he has to do is rescue Stephanie’s mother, take down the mob, avoid Batman, and get Stephanie to agree to a proper date all in one night. Absolute anarchy ensues Ao3 link here!
“Don’t suppose there’s a spare Robin suit in here Oracle?” Asked Tim, rummaging through assorted shelves. There were some black clothes, armoured no doubt, but nothing red, yellow or green.
“No, I’m afraid you are not going to be able to save the day looking like a traffic cone.”
Tim sighed and began stuffing a belt full of explosives, sharp things and sticky things. He looked for items that could, in general, cause the most chaos in a warehouse filled with men with guns and a (potentially) unconscious (dead? No. Not dead until there’s a body.) bat.
“I still think this is a bad idea.”
“Then Stephanie and I take full responsibility if it goes belly up.”
“This is serious! You are not –”
Tim angrily tugged a pair of shoes off the shelf.
“I swear if someone else says I’m not ready or I’m not taking this seriously… I can do it. I’ve been training for years! I can do it!”
“I could lock you in here and that would be the end of it.”
“Then I will start opening up my stitches Ms Disembodied Voice From Above.” Stephanie snarked, sat on the table aside Tim. She’d pulled her hair up into a ponytail, a few pieces of hair too short to make it to the elastic fell cutely on her forehead and neck.
Tim pulled a face. “Please don’t do that.”
“If she lets us out, I will not do that.”
Tim huffed, walking over to a counter. Stephanie leered as he stripped down and then geared up, assorted straps holding belts and containers in place. He really was preparing for whatever could be thrown at him.
“Anything for me?”
“You… are staying in the car.”
“The batmobile? That car?”
“Yup.”
Rolling her shoulders, she mused on that thought for a moment.
“Can it shoot things?”
“Not with bullets but…”
“I can help from within the car though right?”
“Oh yeah, knowing Batman there’s probably a rocket launcher in that thing.” He realised what he’d said, and whirled round, trousers halfway up over his underwear. His eyes were wide, like he genuinely thought she would blow up half of the Narrows.
“Forget about that part.”
Resisting the urge to laugh, she nodded very seriously. “I promise I won’t blow anybody up.”
“The car can do lots of things, Oracle can help you help me. Right O?”
Oracle gave a very deep sigh that crackled oddly with her vocal alteration.
“Yes. I can do that.”
“Thanks O. You can help Steph, promise. Also, there isn’t much place safer than the Batmobile.”
“…I can live with that. But what about you?”
“I have more equipment on me than I ever have had before.” He reached over to a pocket and pulled out a small cylinder. When he flicked it in certain manner, it extended at both ends into a staff. It looked very good for smacking people with. Tim whirled it between his hands a few times, getting used to the weight of it.
“You know Nightwing says I’m better at the bo staff than him.”
“Really?”
“I mean, I can’t beat him hand to hand, and when his got his escrima sticks… but if we’re on equal standing… I can floor him.”
Stephanie smiled, fascinated by his tentative show of confidence. Tim snapped the staff and it reduced once more. He pocketed it in one of the pouches round his waist.
Muttering to himself, he paced around, looking for anything else to take.
“Okay. Think that’s it. Let’s head out.”
He moved to Stephanie, getting ready to pick her up. She pushed him away and ignored his slight look of betrayal. Stephanie didn’t look like she was still made at him, so instead he was left confused. She kept her hand on his chest, a compelling touch.
“At least put a mask on Tim.”
“Huh?”
“You’re gonna go superheroing right? Superheroes need a mask!”
“She’s right y’know.”
“Thank you!” She turned her eyes upwards briefly, but returned them quickly to Tim’s, who had tensed at the two women ganging up on him. She squeezed his shirt, and he nodded, turning away to look for one.
Folding her arms, Stephanie laughed when Tim returned to her, looking somewhat more like a vigilante.
“Now we’re ready.”
****
If Tim were honest with himself, his driving of the batmobile was a bit dodgy. He was used to driving his little red car, not a hulking tank that the batmobile was akin to. He was impressed with how roomy it was though. The steering wheel was less of a circle and more like what could be found in racing cars (or arcade games) which made Tim a little clunky with it trying to turn corners. He was trying to go fast, but the car definitely went faster than the average Ford, and despite her impatience, Stephanie was understanding of his nervy driving.
“Batman’s never let you drive the batmobile before, huh?”
His eyes jutted away from the road, but a slight swerve made him jolt back to full attention. “Oh, oh no. Oracle is the only one who can do that. And she does it remotely. Don’t even think Nightwing’s…” They bumped into another lamppost as they turned a corner. “Whoops.”
“I’m sure the lamppost is more damaged than the car.”
“Oh sure, this thing could take a nuke blast and survive.”
“Really?”
“Well, no. Probably not.”
“Hmm.”
“It is pretty sturdy though.” Looking at the GPS on the dashboard, Tim saw they were getting nearer the warehouse.
“Hey Tim?”
“Yeah?”
Resting her head on the rest, she turned her neck around, playfully smiling. “When this is all done, you promise that you’ll take me out on a proper date?”
Tim’s mouth dropped open in a moment of shock, but he quickly composed himself. “Yes! Yes. Easiest decision of my life… yes.” He laughed, nearly whooping and punching the wheel in jubilation.
“Where’d you like to go? Dinner? We could do that.” She gently prodded.
“Bit fancy?” He said, peering into the cameras that showed the sides and rear of the vehicle. “I mean, do you want to get all dressed up?”
“No, no, not to start, but I know this really nice diner. The lady who runs it smokes like twenty packs a day, but they do really good burgers.”
“That sounds good. I can pick you up, drop you off, and if you feel up to it, we can just walk about, not worry about being jumped…”
“A proper date.” She smiled sweetly. “Listen, I’d give you my phone number but I think it - along with my house keys and purse - are chilling at the bottom of Gotham river right now.”
“Oh. Well I can pay for dinner, if that takes a weight of your mind. A gentleman always pays on the first date… or something like that.”
Shifting to reassert a more comfortable position, Stephanie could only roll her eyes. “Wow.”
“Wow what?” Tim glanced sideways at her. She paused, realising he was being genuine, because that was all Tim seemed to be capable of being.
“You’re serious?” She asked, clutching her seat belt and leaning towards him. She ignored a sharp stab of pain that tugged on her stitches the doctor had done on her.
“Yes?”
At his stupefied tone, Stephanie huffed and muttered, “Of course you are. God, you are something else.”
She raked her eyes up and down at him, totally head over heels, and Tim blushed at her flirtatious tone and gaze. It was silent, but only for a moment before Stephanie began her prodding once more.
“So, you on Facebook? Or Twitter? Or whatever you bats and birds and oracles use? You don’t strike me as an Instagram fan.”
“Ha. No, not Instagram. The others sure, I’m not completely cut off from normal teenage things.”
“Well, what else do you like to do with your time?”
Tim tutted, flexing his fingers on the wheel. “This is getting into first date conversation territory.”
“Oh, come on! Tell me.” She urged, tapping his shoulder.
“Uhhh okay. I… like music? I mean, I play the guitar. Not well, but… well.”
“I used to play the piano.” She interjected gently.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Maybe we can play together. See how much I’ve forgotten and see how well you actually play.”
“Heh. That sounds perfect.”
“What else?”
“Oh. Um.” He sounded so reluctant to talk about himself, but Stephanie knew it wasn’t from a lack of anything to say. Tim would have stories for days. Stories about his parents, stories about Batman, about Nightwing, about his training. Stephanie wondered if it was just because he didn’t get the chance to talk about himself very often.
“I skateboard!” The idea seemingly came to him abruptly, and he immediately seemed embarrassed the moment he uttered it. “I know that’s a bit lame nowadays and at my age –”
“Who told you that?”
“Um… my dad.”
“Huh, well, he’s wrong so there’s that.” She was flippant, tone brokering no argument. She didn’t know Tim’s father, but what she’d heard, she was not impressed. “It’s really cool, watching those guys in the park. I can’t do that. The balance you need…”
“I can teach you, when your stitches are out…” He said, a smile on his face at imagining the two of them at the skate park in Robinson.
“You can try boy wonder, no promises though.”
The nickname made his chest flood with warmth. “…Thanks Steph.”
“Well, you’re welcome. If you want, I can teach you to sew in exchange. There’s something not cool.”
“And who told you that? You know when the apocalypse comes, you’ll be the one actually wearing functional clothes and making objects whilst I’ll just…lay down and freeze.”
She laughed sharply. “From what I’ve seen tonight Tim I don’t think you’ll go down easy when the zombies come for our brains.”
He shook his head and began to slow down. The smile slid off his face, and she recognized it as him slipping into superhero mode. She readjusted herself once more, bracing against the door and dashboard, not knowing where Tim was planning to plant the car.
He leaned forward, peering through the screens. Jolting the car sideways, he slowed right down, and slid down one alley, barely wide enough for the batmobile to open its doors. He then dimmed the lights and cut the engine. The car remained on however, dozens of little knobs and buttons lighting up their faces like an airplane cockpit.
Tim took a deep, albeit unsteady breath, and turned to Stephanie.
“Serious talk.”
“Yup.”
“If I’m not out in half an hour. Call the police. Tell them where you are, tell them to swamp the place. Do not go after me, or your mother, or Batman. With us falling off the bridge, they may think we popped it. I don’t know. I’ll get your mom out first. When your mom is out, call the police.”
She nodded, but her concerned look did not fade. “And what about Batman? What if he’s really badly hurt?”
Tim swallowed uncomfortably, his throat dry, and turned back to the wheel. He chewed his lip. “I might have to leave you behind, depending on how bad he is, and get him back home. You’ll be safe so long as you’re in the car. If it gets really bad, and the car starts to get swamped before the police arrive. Oracle will drive you away.”
“Towards the police?”
“Towards the police, yeah.”
A soft kiss on the cheek made him jump.
“Big brave superhero.” Her gentle teasing made him relax. Just a little. He turned and kissed her on the lips, a wet kiss that made a loud smack when they separated.
“Wish me luck.”
“Good luck.”
Tim smiled. “Oracle can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear. I’ve connected you to the car too, so we both can keep track of you.”
Tim nodded at the thought of an audio audience. He gulped once more, then smacked a button which opened the roof of the car. He climbed up, fired a grappling gun up to the roof, and shot away. The car roof swiftly sealed once more, with a definite suction noise sealing out external air.
Stephanie sat alone in the silence and the low light, her stomach gurgling increasingly with dread. This was going to be a long thirty—
“Right madam, I need you to move over to the driver’s seat.”
“Huh?” She gripped the sides of her seat tight, as if she’d been caught doing something naughty. Oracle did not seem totally amused.
“You wanted to help right?”
“Yes…?”
“Then you can help by getting Tim a map of the building. The car has a sort of sonar. It can create a 3D map depending on what it bounces off.”
“Oh. Wow.”
“Hop over, come on.”
Stephanie did as she was bid, hissing in pain as she shuffled her bum over the other seat. She swung her legs round, and fastened herself back in. She grinned, and excitedly grabbed the steering.
“Oh, wow. I’m in the driver’s seat of the batmobile!”
“Yeah, yeah but you’re not driving anywhere. Upper left, a row of four buttons, near the left window. See them?”
Leaning forward, she nodded and sounded off with a half-hearted, “Yes?”
“Hit the one of the left, hold for three seconds.”
She did just that. She felt a high-pitched ring go through her ears, and the car shuddered.
“Do it three more times.”
“Do you get the image wherever you are?” She asked as she pressed the button.
“I do. Can see there’s fifteen bodies in there. You two and Batman took out a few on your city travels.”
“Is Batman in there?”
“Can’t say for certain, it doesn’t give a clear enough picture. It’ll help Tim know what way to enter, so thank you Stephanie.”
“You’re welcome.” She said, tone genuinely in its gratitude.
Tim’s connection crackled on.
“Going in now. See if she can get the EMP to go off. It’ll cut off my communications, but the other tech should still work. It’ll mess with their stuff real good.”
“Be careful Tim.”
“Promise.”
Stephanie leaned forward, as if she could somehow spot Tim and where he was in the building. All she could see was a brick wall, and no windows or light.
“Oracle? How do I set off an EMP?”
“One sec…” An awkward pause, then Oracle picked up the line once more. “By the gear stick, there’s a circle of smaller buttons with a big button in the middle?”
“Hit the big button?”
“No. Do not hit the big button.”
“What’s the big button do?”
“Don’t touch it.”
“What can I touch?”
“Bottom right. Hit once, no more than one second. It’s pretty fierce and will knock out a block if you hold it too long.”
Gulping, she pressed it firmly. The resulting noise from the car made her jump and squeak. Her stitches complained brutally from her sudden movement, and she clutched at her side, trying to control her breathing.
“Did it work?” She managed to ask.
“Tim’s no longer hearing me, so yes. Well done, Stephanie.”
“…Welcome.” This time her response was quieter. Neither woman sounded too happy about the fact that Tim was well and truly alone.
Stephanie attempted to make conversation with the voice above, to distract herself.
“You work for Batman?”
“Ahem. With Batman.”
“Oh. That’s cool. How…how did you enter…that…profession?”
“Long story.”
“I have time?”
“Uh-uh Stephanie. Just… think of me as mission control.” A pause, then a gentler, “Your wounds, they feel okay?”
“They hurt. But that’s fine. I’d rather feel the pain than not. Something would really be wrong then, huh?” She laughed shakily.
There was no response.
“Oracle?”
Gun fire sounded off then, and Stephanie gasped in fear.
“Sit tight.”
There was no other noises loud enough to be heard in the car through the brick walls, so Stephanie listened as the sounds got louder and quieter, seemingly at random. Sometimes it was obvious that multiple shots from multiple guns were being fired, other times it seemed like just the one.
The moment the gunfire fell quiet, she panicked.
“I have to help.”
“How? You’ve been told. Sit tight.”
“Oh God.” She fell forward, head smacking off the wheel.
The car lit up then, bright as it had when Tim had been driving.
“Stephanie turn the car off.”
“Sorry, sorry I—” She began frantically, foolishly, pressing assorted buttons. An explosion rang out from the roof of the car with such force that the wall the car was pressed against caved in. The fearsome blast led to two men on the other side being knocked out with the momentum of the bricks hitting them. She couldn’t see Tim, but one man and one woman saw the batmobile and seemed to enter an absolute rage at the sight of it. They turned from whatever they were shooting at (Tim? Mom?) and began firing at the car. Stephanie flinched at the sounds and the impact of the bullets on the windshield, but of course the material was tougher than any shotgun, and they bounced off with no damage to the screen.
One of them gave an over the top yell, as if he were in a war movie, but neither person moved.
Something distracted them all then. Stephanie couldn’t see what was going on inside, but she could hear. A horrid screech, one from a man, cut off quickly and sharply.
“What was that?” Stephanie asked, monotone but frightened.
“Uhhhhh…”
“Oracle, hey, what just happened? Can you see?”
The two people watched as something (someone?) was flung across the room. The lady’s mouth dropped open in disgust. Stephanie blinked, and looked down at the wheel of the car.
“It…well. Everything’s fine.” Oracle sounded just like Tim did when they were in the stolen car, and Stephanie by this point had learned her lesson, and did not believe anything was fine for one moment.
The mob pair slowly returned their gaze to the car, as if deciding they had better chances against it than whatever was on the other side of the wall.
They began to run at the batmobile, aiming to swamp it. If they managed to get the door open, Stephanie wouldn’t be able to fight back, she was practically immobile. Panic took over.
“Oh my God, what do I do?”
“Stephanie—”
“What do I do what do I do.”
“Steph—” The man began to incessantly smash his gun down on the windshield, trying to break in, whilst the woman moved the driver’s side, trying to bust the door. They couldn’t see in, thanks to the shaded windows, but that didn’t stop their faces being uncomfortably close to Stephanie’s. “It’s fine, there’s no way they can get in.” Oracle was trying to be reassuring, but Stephanie remained unconvinced, and leaned back further into the driver’s seat.
With a thunderous crack, the man managed to severely damage the front screen, and Stephanie squealed like a six-year-old. He was seemed a man possessed and laughed maniacally like he was a genuine supervillain. Stephanie thought in brief flash of contempt that he was just kind of pathetic.
Dangerous though, and nearly cracking his way in.
“Oh, okay, okay, okay, okay, no worries.” Oracle somehow did not seem to be exhibiting the right level of fear, if anything she seemed very blasé, thinking on the go. "Hit that big centre button.”
“The one you told me not to—”
“Smack it!”
With her fist Stephanie slapped it harder than probably necessary, but she was running on adrenaline at that point and was just doing as she was told with extra gusto. Both mobsters were thrown back with an aggressive crackle. The landed on the ground, one further up the alley, one being thrown back into the warehouse. They stayed on the ground.
“Oh wow.”
“Tasers. They’ll be fine. Maybe peed themselves a little.” Oracle sounded entirely too pleased at the thought.
“…I threw up on myself earlier.” Stephanie offered dumbly. Oracle actually laughed.
“You’re not having a great night are you?”
“I’ve… had better.”
Stephanie reached out for the gear shift, and lowered her feet to the pedals. There were two, hopefully one to go forward and one to brake. She moved the gear shift up, and tentatively put her foot down, wanting to enter the warehouse.
"No, wait!"
The car shot forward through the hole in the wall uncontrollably, like it was her first-time driving a stick shift 1990s Toyota. Bad enough and embarrassing enough, if not for the fact that her mother had come running out towards the hole in the wall the moment Stephanie jerked forward. Crystal bounced off the car with a loud humph and fell to the floor. Stephanie stared in abject horror as her mother wheezed and rolled around on the ground. She was not hurt too badly, just in shock at being smacked by the batmobile more than anything, but that didn’t stop Stephanie from crying out.
“Oh God. I just ran over my mom!”
“…Wow you are having a terrible night.”
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Chapter 17.) Remember
Right before we walk through the gates, Daryl shoots a possum, the sound causing Mason to jump.
As the gate opens Daryl says, "We brought dinner."
After exchanging a look with some guy at the gate, Aaron says, "It's okay. Come in guys."
We walk through the gates, and I am beyond nervous. Daryl and I exchange looks as the gate closes behind us.
The guy who opened the gate looks at our odd group and then states, "Before we take this any further, I need you all to turn over your weapons. Stay, you hand them over."
Rick pipes up before I can, "We don't know if we want to stay."
"It-it's fine, Nickolas." Aaron states, trying to keep the peace.
"If we were gonna use them, we would have started already." Rick continues.
"Let them talk to Deanna first." Aaron says.
"Who's Deanna?" Abraham pipes up.
"She knows everything you'd want to know about this place." Aaron answers. "Rick, why don't you start?"
We all hear the dead guy snarling behind us and Rick looks and says, "Sasha."
Sasha turns around and shoots the dead person.
"It's a good thing we're here," Rick states, as if he were coming in to rescue this place.
I'm almost the last person to go see Deanna, and when I step into the office she greets me, she's a white woman with shoulder length blonde hair.
"Hello. I'm Deanna Monroe."
I nod, staring at her. Trying to tell if she's a good person or not, trying to find out what she's hiding.
"And you are..?"
"Oh, right. I'm Antionette Andrews."
"You mind if I film this?"
"I don't care."
"What were you before all this?"
"A stay at home mother. My late husband; Tyler Andrews, he made more than enough money to sustain our children and us."
"I thought I recognized you, that is unbelievable."
"Look, Aaron said we are auditioning, so here's what I have. Rick is an amazing leader who takes care of us, no matter the cost. His son Carl is friends with my own boy, and he's a good kid, takes care of his dad and little sister. Michonne is a badass with her Katana, she has a kind heart and a good head on her shoulders. Sasha just lost her lover and her brother, she's trying to make it despite all that. Maggie just lost her father to a very bad man but found her husband after we were all separated. Glenn is one of the best men you'll meet, and he's smart. He did most of the runs before our old home fell. Carol is someone who will do whatever it takes to take care of her people, but she's also good with people; something not a lot of us still know how to be. Tera joined us after her group caused our old home to fall, she has a great heart and helped reunite Glenn and Maggie. Eugene is the smartest person you'll know, he can build a battery with minimal supplies. Rosita has a killer shot with her gun, she's saved most of our lives at least once. Abraham was in the military and can take out a herd of the dead practically by himself. Sev was a medic in the military with Abe. They could be an asset if any of you get injured. Noah saved my life when I was taken to Atlanta; and he kept me sane when we were both being forced to stay there. The father is pretty much useless, but he let us use his church when I was shot and rescued. Daryl is a good hunter, and a tracker. He's rough around the edges, but as soon as he cares about you, he will protect you with everything he has. My son is young, but has been watching out for me and my family the minute the world changed. Every single one of those people out there has saved my life on more than one occasion each."
"And what about you?" Deanna asks, leaning forward.
"What about me?"
"What do you bring to the table?"
"Nothing anymore. I don't trust you, or that this place will be here in the morning. The walls won't keep you safe, because walls can't keep any illnesses out. It can't keep bad people from bringing them down. I think you're delusional if you think this community will be still standing in a month or so. But I also know that's maybe a month away from the outside for my son. For my son's friend, and for Rick's little girl. That's all I care about."
"How long have you been out there?"
"Does it matter?"
"I think it does, yeah."
"I don't. It's been too long, and by that point it doesn't matter."
"Why?"
I eye her, trying to figure out her angle. "We've killed more of the dead than a human should. The kills have started swimming together. They don't matter anymore. It doesn't affect us to kill the dead. Plus, we've all lost enough; none of us can trust that anything's going to stick."
"And yet, here you are."
We surround a cart and are placing our weapons on it; a woman with glasses and a black haired ponytail is standing next to it.
Deanna addresses us, "They're still your guns. You can check them out whenever you go beyond the wall. But inside here, we store them for safety."
"Should have brought another bin," the woman with glasses jokes as she wheels our guns away. I look to Daryl, feeling unsafe at the aspect of walking around unarmed. He, too looks uncomfortable.
I'm standing on the porch of one of the two houses we were designated. Daryl is sitting down and skinning the possum he killed earlier, and Rick is standing holding Judith when Mason comes out and excitedly tells me, "There's hot water."
I'm watching for any signs of danger coming this way, but spare my son a glance, "No way," I ask, trying to sound light hearted.
"There is! Mom, I can take a shower!"
"That's wonderful," I reply, shooting him a smile before my eyes return to watching up and down the street.
Carl comes out next and I hear Rick say, "You can look. Just be quick."
"Okay, come on Mason." Carl says, excitedly.
I turn around, "Mason's staying."
"But mom, I'll be right next door, please?"
"No," I shake my head. "You're staying here."
"But Carl gets to go."
"Carl isn't my son. You are. You're staying here."
Mason storms back inside as Carl walks to the next house with Carol.
"What was that about?" Rick asks me once both boys are out of earshot.
I've since returned to watching the street carefully, but glance Rick's way before answering. "I just got him back and I don't trust these people as far as I can throw them. When things fall this time, my son is going to be with me when we get out."
"Anne-"
"Leaver 'er be. Woman's got a point." Daryl speaks up from his place on the ground.
Daryl comes to get me so we can meet Carol with Rick in between the houses to discuss what we think of all this. I glance at Mason nervously, before following Daryl out.
Carol gets to the place same time Daryl, Rick and I do.
"They're right next to each other, but..." Carol trails off.
"They took our weapons and now they're splitting us up." Rick says.
Daryl and I both say, "Yeah."
"Yeah," Rick repeats. "We'll all be staying in the same house tonight." I nod in agreement.
We all pile into the living room of the bigger house, when Michonne comes in with a toothbrush in her hand, "How long was I in there for?"
"20 minutes," Rick answers.
"God, I could not stop brushing. Huh. I've never- I've never seen your face like that." Michonne says, looking at Rick and sounding surprised.
I glance at Daryl who's already looking at me. We're sat behind the boys at the table, and next to Judith's sleep pen. I return my gaze back to the window as I hear Rick respond.
"That's what I felt before and after."
The two start whispering and I lose interest, as I watch a figure approach the front of the house, I elbow Daryl to get his attention and point, but the figure seems to have disappeared. My heart starts racing in my chest, and I quickly make sure Mason is close by, he's still sat next to Carl and Noah at the table looking through a comic.
That's when someone knocks at the door; I stand up, Daryl following my lead.
Rick answers the door and it's Deanna.
I feel Daryl relax slightly, but I move so I'm between Deanna and Mason.
"Rick, I- Wow. I didn't know what was under there. Listen, I-I-I don't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were all settling." She looks in and observed our close living quarters. All 17 of us.
"Oh, my. Staying together. Smart."
"No one said we couldn't," Rick states.
"You said you're a family. That's what you said. Absolutely amazing to me how people with completely different backgrounds and nothing in common can become that. Don't you think?"
"Everybody said you gave them jobs."
That's news to me, I look at Daryl who also seems caught off guard.
"Mm-hmm. Yeah. Part of this place." Deanna says. "Looks like the communists won after all," she laughs.
"Well, you didn't give me one," Rick says, which makes me feel better.
"I have. I just haven't told you yet. Same with Michonne. I'm closing in on something for Sasha. And I'm just trying to figure both Mr. Dixon and Ms. Andrews out, but I will."
I shake my head and look back out the window as Deanna says, "You look good," to Rick and then leaves.
Everyone is laying down for the night, and I'm doing my best to try and sleep when I hear movement; I immediately bolt up right, and Rick looks at me, he's the one moving around. He puts a finger to his lips, and I nod.
The next day has Daryl and I sat on the porch again, when everyone starts leaving the house, going on different directions. Mason comes out, and when I silently point my finger back at the door, he goes back inside without complaint.
Rick comes out then, eyeing Daryl and I before saying, "They said explore. Let's explore."
"Nah," Daryl answers for the both of us. "We'll stay."
"All right." Rick walks to the edge of the porch before saying, "Lori and me, we used to drive through neighborhoods like this. Thinking, 'One day'."
"Well, here we are." Daryl says.
"We'll be back," Rick lets us know before walking away.
"What're you doin', Woman?" Daryl asks, as I pace the porch, trying to keep an eye on the area around the porch,
"What do you mean?"
"Stop pacin', come sit down."
I shake my head, "I can't see the other end of the street from where you're sitting."
"You gonna let that boy out of your sight some time soon?" Daryl asks me.
I shake my head, "When shit hits the fan, I don't want to be separated again."
Carl comes back before anyone else and approaches me, "Can Mason come meet the other people our age with me?"
I shake my head, "Not this time, Bud. Maybe later."
Carl nods slowly, eyeing me for a minute before walking back off the porch and away from the house.
"Can't keep 'im here forever."
I look at Daryl, "Watch me."
Later that night as almost everyone is asleep, I hear Rick approach Michonne who's been stood at one of the windows the last few hours.
"Deanna hasn't given me a job yet," I hear Michonne whisper to Rick.
"You want one?" He asks, just as quietly.
"Yeah. Do you?"
"That's signing the papers. That's saying yes, this is how it is."
"You afraid to do that?"
"Aren't you?"
"No." Michonne replies, evenly.
"So then why are we both awake?" Rick asks, making a point. "I'm gonna take a walk." I hear as he leaves the house.
"What about you, you wanting to get a job yet?"
I look at Michonne from where I'm sat. "I don't know. I think we're getting too cozy already, and it's only our second day."
"I have a good feeling about this place," she says.
"And who are you trying to convince of that? Yourself, or me?"
She shakes her head and looks back out the window, letting the silence settle back around us.
The next day is basically the same, although everyone leaves to go to their jobs. Daryl and I are sat on the porch, he's finally convinced me to sit next to him, instead of spending my day pacing the porch like a caged animal. He's messing with his crossbow, and I giggle when he catches his finger off it.
He shoots me a glare before we both look up to the sound of the door opening and closing behind Carol, "Time to punch the clock and make the casseroles."
"What?" Daryl asks.
"Make dinner for the older people, moms who need a break, people who can't cook."
"Why?" I ask her, raising an eyebrow at her blue cardigan. "Get to meet a lot of the neighbors that way."
Daryl scoffs, "All right."
"Have either of you taken showers yet?"
Daryl and I exchange another look, he shrugs and hums at her.
"Take a shower, both of you. I'm gonna wash that vest. We need to keep up appearances, even the two of you." She starts walking down the porch steps.
"Hey, we ain't startin' now." Daryl grunts at her.
"I'm gonna hose you both down in your sleep."
"You look ridiculous," Daryl states.
"Thanks!" She calls back as she departs.
Mason comes out the door, "Can I go m-"
"No, get back in the house." I say, sharply.
Mason sighs heavily about to go back inside when Daryl stops him.
"Hey, c'mere."
I shoot Daryl a warning look, but he ignores me.
"Let the boy go explore a bit, what's it gonna hurt?"
I glare at him, "I don't want him going too far. When shit hits the fan, I want us close by. End of story, get back in the house."
Mason nods and disappears back through the door.
"Don't ever question how I'm raising my son again." I snap.
"Alright. But that boy of yours is gonna sneak out you keep tellin' him he can't leave."
I shake my head, "He understands why he has to stay near me. We'll go look around sometime. But I-" I take a deep breath. "I won't risk losing him again. Not after everything he's been through. He still won't even look you in the eye... what those men did-"
"I won't let that happen again," Daryl says, fiercely. "I won't let you be separated again."
I look him in the eye, and I believe him. "But-" I sigh "You'll help me find him if he's out running around when shit hits?"
Daryl nods.
"Mason," I call, opening the door. He comes out; looking like I'd just beat his dog up. "You be back long before dark its. Anything, and I mean anything goes bad, you immediately come find me, you hear?"
He nods, getting excited.
"Go, have a look around," I let up, and he runs off the porch without even a hug goodbye.
I watch him leave, and it isn't until Daryl nudges me and points in the other direction that I stop looking in the direction Mason left in.
I look and see Glenn and some guy squaring up at the gate surrounded by Noah, Tera and Nickolas.
"Lets go," I say, standing up and walking over with Daryl at my side.
We get there in time to hear Noah say, "Come on, man. Just take a step back."
The strange guy shoves Glenn and says, "Come on, tough guy."
I go to step forward to punch the dude, but Daryl puts his arm out, and I look at him as I hear Glenn say, "No one's impressed, man. Walk away."
Deanna rushes up snapping, "Aiden! What is going on?"
"This guy's got a problem with the way we do things. Why did you let these people in?" The stranger with brown hair responds.
"Because we actually know what we're doing out there." Is Glenn's response.
He ducks a punch that Aidan throws and punches him, knocking him to the ground with one hit.
Daryl runs and basically tackles Nicholas to the ground.
"Aiden, no! That's enough!" Deanna orders just as Rick and Carl come in through the gates. "I said that is enough!"
Rick runs over to Daryl, putting his arms around his back, "Whoa, whoa! Hey, hey, hey! Let's not do this now."
"Tell him," grunts Daryl.
Aidan stands up and Michonne gets in my way before I get the chance to punch his lights out for trying to take a hit at Glenn. Michonne gets in his face instead, "You want to end up on your ass again?"
Aidan backs off, "Cool, all right?"
I turn to see Rick pulling Daryl off Nickolas who is coughing and stands up.
Both Daryl and I go to go after him, but Rick puts his hands on both our chests, keeping us from fighting anyone else.
Deanna addresses everyone, "I want everyone to hear me, okay? Rick and his people are part of this community now in all ways. As equals." She's met with silence and I scoff. She turns to Aidan and says, "Understood?"
"Understood?" He repeats, smirking.
I try to side step Rick while saying, "Don't make me come over there and wipe that stupid smirk right off your face!"
Rick grabs my shoulders and looks me dead in the eyes as he says, "Cool off."
I take a breath before nodding, "Fine."
"All of you, turn in your weapons," Deanna orders before turning to Aidan and Nickolas, "Then you two come talk to me."
When everyone walks away Deanna looks at Rick, "I told you I had a job for you. I'd like you to be our constable. That's what you were. That's what you are." She turns to Michonne, "And you, too." Before turning back to Rick. "Will you accept?"
"Okay."
Deanna looks to Michonne who smiles, "Yeah, I'm in."
Daryl grabs his crossbow, scoffing and walks off. I roll my eyes at Rick before following him away from the idiots.
When Rick comes out of the house in a police uniform I shake my head at him, Daryl and I have been outside while everyone else went in. We're sharing a cigarette together.
"We good?" Rick asks.
"Yeah," Daryl responds, they both then turn to me.
I sigh, "We're good."
"You a cop again?" Daryl asks, as Carol comes outside.
Rick sighs this time, "I'm trying it on for size."
"So we're staying?" Carol asks.
"I think we can start sleeping in our own homes," Rick says, looking at Carol. "Settle in."
"If we get comfortable here, we let our guard down... this place is gonna make us weak." Carol states.
"Carl said that," Rick replies. "But it's not gonna happen. We won't get weak. That's not in us anymore. We'll make it work. And if they can't make it, then we'll just take this place." He looks at the other three of us and we all exchange looks.
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon fanfiction#the walking dead#the walking dead fanfiction#season 5#chapter 17
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You’re My One
Title: You’re My One
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 4,360
Warnings: Fluff, angst, Fluff, Alcohol Consumption.
Summary: You have been in love with Dean since you met him in the third grade, but you’ve always been too afraid to tell him.
Anon Request: Hi! I was wondering if I could request a Dean x Reader one shot where they are best friends, and they like each other, and they like to play-fight/flirt a lot and it ends in fluff? Thank you so much!!!
A/N: This is for @ilostmyshoe-79 Sweet Emotions challenge. Mine was Anticipation. In this sense, it’s good and bad. Feedback is always appreciated! Happy Reading!!!
x
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Dean Winchester was a man of many things. He was a badass hunter who could take down any monster without doubting himself. He could eat a burger, fries and down a beer in five minutes flat. He could eat anything and not put on a single pound. Dean also happened to be your best friend and the sweetest guy you had ever met and you had met a lot of men in your lifetime.
Dean Winchester is and always was the man you turned to. At eight years old, you met him in your grade three class. He started the school year halfway through. He walked in with a leather jacket on his shoulders and no backpack on his back. Even then, he walked in the room with confidence. He took a seat next to you on the carpet, not saying another word as he listened to the teacher speaking before the group. But that didn’t stop you from wanting to talk to the kid. You were a bit of a loner yourself. The weird girl as most kids refered to you as. You were quiet, and always wore your hair in a ponytail. You never understood why no one wanted to be your friend. Why no one wanted to be associated with you.
When it was lunch time, you sat in the back corner by yourself, as usual. The rest of your class was laughing at something one of the other kids said. You always felt excluded when it came to lunchtime, and recess time only made it worse. That is when the new kid came and sat next to you.
“Why are you sitting all by yourself?” he asked you. You shrugged, taking a small bite out of your sandwich. You felt his eyes on you and you didn’t dare look at him. He wasn’t going to want to be friends with a freak kid like you. He was going to be in the popular group by the end of the day. “You don’t say much do you?”
“I talk,” you replied, almost inaudibly. “Why aren’t you over there?”
“Because I saw you over here,” he chuckled. “I’m Dean.”
“Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Where is your lunch?” you questioned.
“I don’t have one today. My dad forgot to pack me something before he left this morning,” he told you.
“You can have some of mine if you want. Take anything you want,” you pointed to your lunch box. Dean nodded his head, reaching for the other half of your sandwich.
Instead of hanging out with the rest of the class at recess, Dean followed you outside to the swings. To say you were surprised was a vast understatement. He swung next to you for the entire recess, talking to you about little things like the leaves changing and the temperature getting colder. You weren’t used to someone talking to you for an extended period of time. Dean seemed to like talking to you and that was something you liked. And that soon became what you looked forward to everyday. You woke up in the morning and your first thought was Dean and getting to talk to Dean and hang out with Dean. Dean became your best friend.
But one day, something flipped your world upside down.
You were walking home from school one day with Dean and his younger brother Sam, something that happened everyday. Dean always walked you to your door and spent a couple of extra minutes talking to you before heading home with Sam. This day was no different. You walked in the front door of your house, calling out to your mom and dad but no answered yelled back. You walked in, heading straight to the kitchen, hoping to find them there.
You heard the sounds of the coffee machine beeping to say the brew was finished. When you circled round the counter, stopping dead in your tracks. Blood. So much blood that all you could see was red. You let out a scream and ran as quickly as you could.
You caught up to Sam and Dean in no time, tackling him down as you cried your eyes out. You couldn’t form words to describe what went wrong or what you saw. You couldn’t speak another word.
And that’s how it was for six months.
It turns out it was a rougarou that John Winchester was hunting in your town and it just so happened to be your friendly neighbor, Mr Fenway, who snacked on both of your parents before you got home from school that day. After that, John Winchester took you in and you joined the brothers on the road.
For six months, you spoke to no one, not even Dean. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he talked to you, you said nothing. You responded to nothing. You couldn’t form words to even remotely say something to him. Were you happy that you ended up with the Winchester’s, of course you were. But it didn’t change the fact that your family was dead and you were scared.
Six months after it happened, you woke up from a nasty nightmare and you couldn’t calm down to save your life. So instead of curling up in a ball, your feet hit the ground and you made your way across the room to Dean’s bed, crawling in with him. He woke almost instantly, wondering who had joined him. When he realized it was you, he hugged you tightly and never said another word.
But you knew then, Dean Winchester would always be your best friend. He would always protect you from any harm.
“Dean Winchester I swear to god if you stole my laptop to watch porn again, I am going to to kick your ass into- what are you doing?” You questioned as you made your way into the bunker’s library. Dean indeed did have you laptop sitting on the table in front of him. But much to your dismay, he was doing something completely different.
“I am trying to see if any movies are playing so I can take that girl from the diner in town on a date,” he answered. You smiled weakly. If only it was you he wanted to take to the movies, you thought to yourself.
“Oh really? Trying to replace me?” you played.
“Yes, you’re a pain in the ass,” he joked. “Unless you want to go with me?”
“I’d love to, really. But if you’re interested in that girl from the diner, go for it. I can survive one night without my trusty knight in shining armour. Besides, I have another Winchester brother to harass. I’m sure Sammy will love a little Y/N time, you know,” you winked, not wanting to ruin his night. You ruined a few of them already and you didn’t want to stand in the way of him getting a little action.
“Great, so I’m going to have leave halfway through my date,” he teased.
“Shut up, Dean. I’m not that annoying,” you frowned.
“Yes you are. You’re going to drive that poor boy up the wall with your constant talking. Have you ever considered becoming a mime?”
“You’re mean and I don’t like you anymore,” you stated, trying to keep as serious as possible.
“You love me and you know it,” he chuckled. “I mean come on, you’ve pictured me naked more than once. You want me, you need me. You desperately crave my body on top of yours, pounding you into the-”
“Would you stop!” You scolded, playfully slapping his arm. He let out a laugh.
“Never,” he beamed.
Your heart fluttered in your chest as your eyes met his. This man was something else and he knew it too. If only he knew the affect he really had on you. You had been tempted to tell him a thousand times, each time more than the last. But you could never do it. You could never tell him what you desperately wanted to tell him every time. You just couldn’t ruin that friendship. It was the first friendship you ever formed and you didn’t want it to end because you had fallen head over heels in love with him. “Alright, Bean, have fun tonight. I’ll torture your brother some.”
“Thanks, sweetheart. See you later.”
Dean took off for his date with the waitress from the diner, leaving you in the bunker with Sam. Sure over the years, you and Sam had bonded quite well. He was the brother you always wanted. You and Sam liked to go on runs together and you both had the same taste in tv shows, which is something you enjoyed doing together. Sam’s favourite thing to do was to tease you about your feelings towards his older brother.
You grabbed a case of beer from the fridge, bringing it into the library where Sam had settled down for the evening. He was reading a lore book with a salad in front of him, chewing away at the lettuce as his eyes ghosted over the pages.
“Sam Winchester!” you shouted, smiling widely.
“Dear god! I thought you went out with Dean,” he chuckled with amusement.
“Nope. Dean’s off banging some waitress,” you sighed. “Nothing I can do about.”
“Uh, you mean other than telling him you’re in love with him,” he let out a laugh. You rolled your eyes at his comment.
“I need a drink.”
Four beers later, you had an amazing buzz going on. Sam had the same amount to drink and he was still sober. Sam’s alcohol tolerance was extremely high. You on the other hand, were a light weight. That was one of the things the Winchester’s loved about you. Getting you drunk was always easy.
“Y/N, I just don’t understand why you won’t take that chance and tell him how you feel? I mean, how long have you loved him? Since the day you met him? You guys would make such a cute couple,” Sam pointed out.
“You know what, yes we would make such an adorable couple, Sammy. I mean, you are the only one that knows Dean as well as I do. What is a girl like her going to bring to him other than a one night stand. And what’s to bet he comes back and claims that she wasn’t even worth it?”
“You sound jealous as hell, Y/N,” Sam let out a laugh.
“I am!” you yelled. “I always tell myself, you know, just tell him. Just grow a pair and tell him that you love him. Tell him that he shouldn’t waste anymore time sleeping with girl after girl when he’s got one that loves him sitting in the backseat of his beloved impala. Why settle for someone who can’t even make him laugh? I want to tell him that there is no one out there better for him than me. And in my head, every single time, he’s smiling. That goofy one he does when he’s nervous and doesn’t know what to say. Then he’ll lean in just a little and the butterflies will start soaring in my stomach, and I’m just waiting to feel his lips on mine. And when I finally do, it feels like my whole world is pieced together. Because I’ll know that Dean Winchester is mine and that is all I’ve ever wanted.”
“You know you always have a chance to do it. Just knock on his door, sit him down and tell him. You owe it to yourself to tell him. You have been living this life with us since the beginning and you have never, not once, complained about how much you wish you wanted to be normal. My brother has one girl and one girl only and that will always be you. Tell him. Trust me,” Sam nodded.
“Well well, if it isn’t my brother and my best friend,” Dean’s voice called out. He stepped down the stairs, making his way over to you and Sam, taking a seat on top of the table. “Oh I see you’re getting ol’ lightweight drunk.”
“Shut up! I’m not a lightweight!” you groaned.
“Yes you are, sweetheart. Just admit it,” he chuckled.
“What are you doing home so early?” you raised your eyebrow.
“The girl was boring. She never said a word to me the entire time we were out. I wasn’t about to waste my night trying to grasp her attention when I never had it in the first place,” he shrugged.
“Good. You deserve better,” you nodded your head proudly.
“I wouldn’t go that far. But I certainly deserve someone who wants to spend time with me,” he added on. “So that’s why I’m here with you two nerds.”
“Says the biggest nerd in the room. I’m sorry, is that the anime in your room calling?” you giggled.
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” Dean got up off the table and made his way over to you. Your heart began to race in your chest, something that happened often when he grew closer to you. After all, he was Dean Winchester. He could have any woman in the world. There was no way he would want a girl like you. You nervously downed the rest of your beer, your head feeling a little fuzzy as the effects of the alcohol set in. You had to get out of the room before you said something stupid, or did something you’d regret in the morning.
“Well boys. It’s been fun. But I happen to have a date with my bed tonight, and I’m already running late. I’ll see y’all in the morning,” you smiled softly, getting up off your chair. Without another word, you practically stumbled out of the room, heading down the hallway to your room.
Somewhere along the way, you stumbled your way into Dean’s room. His bed was made the way it usually was, along with a couple of shirts he had probably tried on before he went out for the night. On his couch was a couple of lore books he was reading in the privacy of his own space. You loved the look of his room, and that was more than likely because you wished that this was your room too.
“What are you doing in here?” he chuckled, sneaking in passed you.
“Oh you know, just creeping,” you giggled.
“How drunk are you?” he tried to repress his smile.
“Drunk enough,” you said bluntly.
“You want to sit in here for awhile, maybe fool around a little?” he winked playfully.
“You’re disgusting you know that?”
“Well aware of it,” he beamed as he leaped on his bed, his arms resting behind his head. You took a seat on the end of the bed, crossing your legs as you faced him.
“Do you remember when we were fifteen and your dad dropped us off at Bobby’s for the weekend, and we snuck out to go explore around his scrapyard?” you started.
“Yeah, and you fell off one of the cars and hit your head and I couldn’t tell Bobby because he would kill us both. I stayed up all night with you to make sure you didn’t fall asleep in case you had a concussion. You scared the hell out of me that night,” he smiled weakly.
“I don’t know why I thought of it but when I think back on all the good times we’ve had together that one always comes up as number one. Not because I got hurt or anything like that. You and I spent the entire night talking about anything and everything and I knew that night that you were always going to be there for me. That you were always going to protect me,” you breathed out.
“I am always going to protect you,” he stated, moving over to the end of the bed. “You must be really drunk to think about that moment.”
You felt the butterflies grow in the pit of your stomach. You swallowed hard. You were going to do it. You were going to tell Dean Winchester how you felt about him. You were going to finally take that chance you had been waiting on. Sam was right, Dean only had one girl in his life and that girl was you.
“I may be drunk, but I know what I’m talking about Dean. That night back then, I knew that there was only going to be one person I could ever want in my life and that person is you Dean. You have always been there for me, and you have always been my go to when I need someone and somewhere along the way, I guess I maybe, kinda sorta fell in love with you in that time,” you stammered out. You didn’t dare meet his eyes. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to see the look in his eyes.
“Y/N, I-” he started but stopped.
“Don’t say anything okay. I just had to tell you because even though I try to be the supportive friend when you go out with other girls, it’s hard to hold it in sometimes. I just wish it was me sometimes,” you confessed. All the alcohol in your system made you more confident that you’d ever be. You took a deep breath, your eyes daring to look up at his. You could see the confusion etched on his face. You reached your hand up, cupping his cheek. You leaned in softly, pressing your lips to his in a sweet, chaste kiss. You felt your stomach doing flips as your heart fluttered in your chest, but it only lasted a second. Dean was not kissing you back.
And that’s when you knew your feelings were completely one sided.
You pulled away abruptly, casting your head down. This was not what you expected at all. Every time you thought he would tell you that he felt the same about you and he had waited long enough to tell you but he was just as scared as you were. But it never occurred to you that Dean protected you because he saw you as his sister.
“I’m so sorry,” you stuttered. “I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have said anything. God, I am such an idiot.” Before anything else could be said, you got up off the bed, taking off like a gunshot, heading straight for your bedroom.
You shut your door quietly as tears welled in your eyes. God, you were such an idiot. You just ruined the longest lasting friendship because you couldn’t keep your drunk mouth shut. Dean was going to hate you and now you were going to be lucky if he even spoke to you again. You brought this all on yourself. You only had yourself to blame for this mess.
You crawled into your bed, pulling the comforter over your head as tears steadily made their way down your cheeks. This was all one big mess.
You woke up the next morning to a pounding sensation in your head. Something you should be used to by now, but clearly you weren’t. The memories from the night before came back to you in an instant and your heart dropped in your chest. You were the idiot who told Dean that you loved him and he didn’t love you back, and now you were going to have to face him. You were going to have to deal with your consequences, even if that meant you had to leave the bunker for good.
The sooner you faced it, the sooner you could move forward with what the next step was. Your heart ached in your chest as you kicked the comforter off the bed. Your feet hit the cold, hard concrete floor, causing you to flinch at the shock of it. The bunker was quiet as you made your way through the hallways. Sure you prayed that both of the boys were still asleep, but you knew you were pushing your luck.
The second you stepped foot in the kitchen, there was Dean, standing by the stove with his back turned to you. Your mouth went dry at the sight of him, and you desperately wanted to escape out of the room, or pray that the floor opened up and swallowed you whole. That definitely wasn’t going to happen. Not now, not ever.
“Mornin’ sweetheart,” Dean smiled as he turned around. You swallowed hard, mustering up a weak smile as you took a seat at the table. It was time to face the music. “How’re you feeling?”
“Like ass,” you responded. Your voice was raspy and void of all emotions.
“I bet. Here, take two of these,” he said as he placed an orange bottle filled with pills in front of you. You didn’t protest, downing two with a the cup of coffee in front of you. You stared down at your thumbs, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, wondering just what to say to the tall handsome man standing a few feet away from you.
You stood up, taking slow steps towards Dean. Were you nervous? Hell yes. You were terrified that he was going to tell you to give him space and that you were never going to be able to talk to him again. “Listen Dean, about last night-”
“You remember?” he questioned, turning around to face you.
“Unfortunately yes,” you whispered. “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable in anyway and I’m sorry I kissed you. I wish I could take it all back, but I know I can’t. Can we maybe, just forget about it?” Tears welled in your eyes once more. Please don’t let this be the end of your friendship, you prayed.
“And what if I don’t want to forget about it?” he questioned. You nodded your head as a single tear slipped down your cheek.
“I’ll pack up my stuff and go. I’m really sorry, Dean. It wasn’t my intention to ruin our friendship. I was drunk and a little too honest and I should have just kept my thoughts to myself and it was stup-”
You stopped in your tracks the second his hand reached under your chin, inching you to look up. When your eyes met his gorgeous green orbs, you saw just how soft his expression was towards you. His thumb traced over your chin as he flashed you that smile that made you weak in the knees. Your heart was stammering in your chest and your mouth went dry once more. He dipped down, growing closer and closer to your face before his lips were on yours.
You grew weak in the knees at the feeling of his lips on yours. Every scenario, every daydream, every fantasy could never compare to what it felt like to finally have Dean Winchester kissing you. His lips were soft, subtle and careful. Inside, butterflies were soaring inside your stomach. Your swore if your heart could beat any faster it would pop out of your chest. You almost forgot to even respond to him. You were so worked up in how amazing it felt to finally kiss him.
You opened your mouth, deepening the kiss as your hands made their way to his body, trying to bring him in closer to you, also needing something to hold you upright. It felt like a dream. Hell, it was you dream. It had been for a very long time and now it was happening. His tongue was now dancing with yours and you could taste the bacon he snacked on before you entered in the room. His hand grazed over your jaw, moving to cup your cheek and you practically melted into a puddle.
You had to pull away. Your lungs were burning, and you desperately wanted to know if this was all real and not made up in your head. You had no knowing that you weren’t standing in front of him staring off into space, while he waited for you to say something else.
When you opened your eyes once more, you found to breathtaking green ones staring back at you. You were speechless. “I don’t want to forget about what you said.”
“Dean, but last night-”
“Last night you were drunk and I wasn’t about to take advantage of you. I had to be sure that sober you felt the same way. I’ve wanted to tell you for as long as I can remember that I have feelings for you but I was so sure that you saw me as your best friend that could never amount to anything more. I mean I’ve had a crush on you since the first day I met you. I just didn’t think I stood a chance with a girl like you until you said that last night and then you kissed me and as much as I wanted to tell you the same. I wanted you to remember it all,” he whispered.
“You do feel the same?” you practically gasped.
“Of course I do, sweetheart. You’ve always been my one,” he chuckled. “You have no idea how long I have wanted to kiss you for.”
“Oh believe me, I know. We’ve got a ton of time to make up for,” you beamed.
“Let’s start right now,” he winked before dipping down, capturing your lips with his in a sweet, yet passionate kiss. Your hands made their way into his short, light brown hair as his snaked down to your waist, lifting you up onto the counter. You would never grow tired of this, not ever.
“You know, I would usually be grossed out by this but it’s about fucking time you two got together that I’m not even going to stop you, this time only,” Sam interrupted. “But I swear to god, if I see or even remotely hear the two of you, I will kill both of you.”
“Love you too, Sammy,” you giggled. “I love you, Dean Winchester.”
“Mmmh,” he smiled, pressing his lips to yours. “Not as much as I love you.”
“I take it back, I’m leaving for the day,” Sam groaned. “No sex in the kitchen!”
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#sweetemotionschallenge#dean winchester#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester fan fiction#dean winchester fanfic#dean one shot#dean imagine#dean fanfic#supernatural#supernatural one shot#supernatural imagine#supernatural fan fiction#supernatural fanfic#supernatural x reader#spn#spn one shot#spn imagine#spn fanfic#spn fan fiction#spn drabble#supernatural-jackles#Dean Fluff#Dean Angst#Dean x reader Fluff#Dean x Reader Angst#Fluff
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Life #5 (South Park)
Character Sheet
Face Claim:

Basic
Name: Carmencita D. Tweedle
Pronunciation: Car-men-SEE-tuh
Meaning: Little Song
Nicknames: Carmen, Tweedle Dee, Mutt, Snow Bunny
Name Origins:
Carmen: Shortened from Carmen
Tweedle Dee: Used with Tweedle Dum, Middle Initial, and Last Name
Mutt: Racial Slur for Mixed Race (I will actually beat that living shit out of you if you call me this AHEM Cartman AHEM)
Snow Bunny: A weird combination of my love of snow and Kenny’s love of Playboy Bunnies
Titles: N/A
Aliases: Princess Kenny’s Personal Knight, Estrella
Alias Origin: Games with The Boys
Orientation: Heterosexual
Gender: Female
Age: 16
Date of Birth: June 4th
Star Sign: Gemini
Birth Flower: Rose
Meaning: True Love
Birthstone: Pearl
Meaning: Purity
Species: Human
Affiliation: Humans, Freedom Pals
Social Status: Middle Class
Dead?: Eventually
How?: This is South Park probably really stupidly
Last Words: “SHIT!!! WE’RE GOING TO DIE!!!!”
Appearance
Eye Color: Grey-Blue
Glasses/Contacts: Glasses
Skin Tone: Pale with Freckles
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Hair Length: Just Past Shoulder
Hair Type: Curly
Hairstyle: Ponytail Normally,

Loose When Estrella,

Braids When Knight

Height: 5’1 (Yes, I’m short… only means i’m closer to hell)
Body Build: Skinny and Scrawny
Notable Features: N/A
Piercings: N/A
Tattoos: N/A
Scars: Small Mark on Left Cheek
Birthmarks: Thigh
Wardrobe
Style: Casual and Warm
Favorite Outfit: Dark Blue Coat Lined with Dark Grey Fur, Blue Jeans with Black Star Pattern, Black Fur Lined Boots, Grey Gloves with Ugly Sweater Pattern, Gray Knit Hat with Dark Grey Poof, Black Moschino Backpack with Optimus Prime Bear, Star Ring

Formal Outfit: Black Off Shoulder Asymmetrical Dress, Black Kitten Heels, Black Shoulder Bag with Silver Star Print, Silver Star Necklace, Silver Star Bracelet, Silver and Pearl Star Clip On Earrings, Silver Star Ring

Alter Ego Outfit:
Stick of Truth: Grey Tank Top Cut and Sewn Together with Shoe String, Long Sleeve Black Shirt, Black Hoodie, Black Leggings, Black Boots, Plastic Champion Belt, Plastic Gauntlets, Toy Bow and Arrow

Freedom Pals: Black Tank Top, Blue Galaxy Skater Skirt, Black Tights, Black Leather Jacket with Silver Star Pattern, Black Sneakers with Gold Star Pattern, Multiple Silver and Gold Star Bangles, Black Choker with Dangling Silver Stars, Silver Star Crossbody Bag, Silver Star Headband, Silver Star Ring, Black Lace Masquerade Mask

Accessories: Silver Star Ring
Scent: Vanilla, Green Tea
Relationships
Mother/Mother Figure: Roxane Tweedle
Relationships:
My mother is a very strange woman. She is very paranoid and always moving around the town. She is very attentive to my sister and I’s needs and tends to try to give us anything we could want (which doesn’t mean we actually want it). Whatever time she spends with us usually driving us around to wherever it is we’re going and it’s usually spent with us all terribly singing along to the radio and laughing. Mom isn’t one to want to sit and listen to us or to give us advice as she has a short attention span (probably where Olivia gets it from). She might not be the best mother but she does try and I still love her.
Father/Father Figure: Jackson Tweedle
Relationships:
My father, on the other hand, tends to love to sit and listen to (gossip with) us. He loves to try and smother with us with anything we ask for (Olivia and I honestly made it a game to see how far he would go to get us what we wanted… he has to fail). Dad is just as paranoid as mom is but he hides it a lot better. He was also the one that signed me up for martial arts which caused a huge argument between parents. My dad has been known to also beat the shit out of anyone who dares insult us or my mother (probably where I got it from).
Brothers/Brother Figures: N/A
Relationships: N/A
Sisters/Sister Figures: Olivia Tweedle
Relationships:
As dumb as Olivia can be, she is a very loyal friend and sister. I have, obviously, known her my entire life and she has never let me down (In terms of loyalty and reliability not much else). She can deal with my violent tendencies ad overly snarky demeanor. I can (most of the time) deal with her oblivious, careless attitude. We rarely fight and get along better than most sisters do and I’m pretty happy to have her as my sister.
Aunts/Aunt Figures: Nancy Tweak
Relationships:
Aunt Nancy is very sweet. She is always supportive whatever decision we make even if it might not be the right one. She is also pretty good at telling right from wrong and standing up when she thinks we’re doing something terrible. As supportive as she is she doesn’t really listen and is known to just leave us to our devices for long periods of time. She honestly borders on child neglect with how little she pays attention to us or Tweek.
Uncle/Uncle Figures: Richard Tweak
Relationships:
Uncle Richard is much worse than Aunt Nancy. All he cares about is his business and pays no attention to anything any of his family does. That’s not to say he doesn’t care, he does... he just cares more about his coffee shop. He also does anything to boost his shop which includes manipulating us and Tweek to do his bidding. Yeah, I don’t like my uncle.
Cousins/Cousin Figures: Tweek Tweak
Relationships:
I adore my cousin Tweek. As jitter and jumpy as he is I find him absolutely adorable. I’m usually the one to take the late night calls and now late night talks about pressure and Underpants Gnomes. I try to comfort him but it doesn’t always work cuz this kid is riddled with anxiety. When he’s calmer (calmer, NOT calm) he is pretty fun to hang around and his friends are pretty crazy. You wouldn’t think this but Tweek is surprisingly protective of Olivia and I. He has actually attacked some people he thought had hurt us emotionally or physically.
Nieces/Niece Figures: N/A
Relationships: N/A
Nephews/Nephew Figures: N/A
Relationships: N/A
Sons/Son Figures: N/A
Relationships: N/A
Daughter/Daughter Figures: N/A
Relationships: N/A
Current Guardian: The Tweaks
Relationship: I get along well with Aunt Nancy (I mean she tries), I hate uncle Richard (I know for a fact he’s the entire reason for Tweaks anxiety), and I adore Tweak
Current Significant Other: Kenny McCormick
Relationship:
Kenny McCormick was never the boy I saw myself dating. Simply put he was a major player and I wanted commitment.Kenny went around on any girl that moved and I was no exception, however, I was one of the very few who resisted his… charm. That got him interested and he is surprisingly persistent but so am I. It was a long game of cat and mouse where he would find me and drop cheesy pickup lines, offer compliments, and ask me out over and over while I offered sarcastic comment after witty comeback (if I do say so myself). The game turned into a surprisingly close friendship where the flirting got more jokey and less serious, where his true colors showed and that was when I finally caught feeling for the real Kenny McCormick. The overly perverted, vulgar, overprotective big brother Kenny. It didn’t take me to long to ask him on a date and imagine my surprise when this guy decided to actually give a committed relationship a try. I’m glad he did because now I know the jealous, overprotective, poorly timed joke slinging Kenny too. Obviously, we have a very touchy-feely relationship (which is weird because I’m not a big fan of being touched).
People
Mentors:
Advisor: Kyle Broflovski
Confidant: Kyle Broflovski
Teammates:
Stick of Truth: Humans
Fracture But Whole: Freedom Pals
Friends: Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, Tweek Tweak, Butters Stotch, Token Black, Craig Tucker, Jimmy Valmer, Timmy Burch, Heidi Turner (I AM going to beat Cartman for what he did), Karen McCormick
Best Friend: Olivia Tweedle
Love Interest: Kenny McCormick

Rivals: Wendy Testaburger, Bebe Stevens
Enemies: Eric Cartman
Person Hated Most: Eric Cartman
Most Important Person: Olivia Tweedle
Awkward Around: Wendy when she breaks up with Stan, Tweek, and Craig when they’re fighting
Admires: Dad, Kyle
Past
Hometown: North Park
Childhood: Pretty normal, lived in a small town, small house, small family. Then, of course, our parents decided to go on some big trip and dump us with relatives for God knows how long.
Childhood Hero: JK Rowling (What? I like Harry Potter)
Most Important Memory: When my parents finally signed me up for martial arts after months of begging OR When I won my elementary school art competition
Present
Current Location: South Park
Living With:
Occupation: Student
Pets: Wiener Dog/Golden Retriever Mix named Oz

Health
General Health: Meh… I tend to get colds every few weeks
Reason: Apparently I have a sucky immune system
Mental Health: I’d say I’m sane, though, according to others that’s up for debate
Reason: I’m violent and pretty loud once I’m comfortable
Sleep Habits: I sleep like a log
Diet: Umm… I’m not on one
Exercise: Martial Arts, I Ride My Bike A Lot
Allergies: Dairy Products
Injuries: I get scrapes and bruises (I’m kind of a klutz)
Disorders: N/A
Deformity: N/A
Disabilities: N/A
Mutations: N/A
Handicaps: N/A
Medication: N/A
Education
School: South Park High School
Best Class: Art
Worst Class: Biology
Sports: Martial Arts
Clubs: Art Club
Languages: Spanish, English
Memory: Ok, I Guess
Abilities (Fracture But Whole)
List of Powers: Stellarkinesis
Moves:
Gravity Slam: Using the force of gravity to slam and hold opponents to the ground (Kick them in the balls/punch in the boob)
Shooting Star: Bringdown a star from space to hit a target (Chuck Firecrackers at them)
Plasma Beam: Use beam of plasma to harm enemies (Shine flashlight in their eyes)
Stellar Healing: Use stardust remaining from destroyed stars to heal teammates (Neosporin and Band-Aids)
Stardust: Use stardust to confuse opponents (Chuck glitter in their faces)
Abilities
Gravity Manipulation (Basically Telekinesis AKA Imagination)
Stardust Manipulation (Glitter)
Plasma Manipulation (Flashlight)
Origin: As a child, I was taken by a space god worshipping cult who attempted to sacrifice me to their god in a special ritual. Instead of dying, the ritual gave me the power to control the stars and become someone who could protect other children from being attacked and suffering my fate,.(AKA I wear star-shaped ring and own a lot of things with star patterns)
Elements: Space
Strengths: Stars, Night, Evasion, Long Range
Weaknesses: Cold, Water, Over-Exertion, “Nightmares from cult experience” (what the hell does that even mean?)
Restrictions: Over-Exertion of Powers
Immunities: Fire, Light, Sun
Combat
Fighting Style: Quick and Hard, Use Opponent's Strength, Momentum, and Weight Against Them
Weapons: Bow and Arrow (Stick of Truth), Hand to Hand
Personality
Good Traits: Loyal, Creative, Smart, Strategic, Athletic (Fast), Funny, Hard to Get Angry, Romantic
Bad Traits: Snarky, Overly Sarcastic, Explosive Temper, Likes to Hide Bad Feelings, Insecure About Glasses and Relationships, Stubborn
Likes: Animals, Art, Martial Arts, Laughing, Family, Games, Friends, Snow, Stars, Silver, Cheesy Romantic Dates, Reading, Cooking
Dislikes: Getting Angry, SOMEONE Insulting My Friends/Family, Swimming, Hunting, Being Touched by Most People
Turn Ons: Dirty Talk, Compliments, Jokes/Cheesy Pick Up Lines, A Little Rough
Turn Offs: Insults, Silence, Lies
Talents: Drawing, Martial Arts
Sense of Humor: Laughs at Just About Anything
Darkest Secret: Loves Cheesy Pick Up Lines
Does Anyone Know? Who?: Olivia and Possibly Kenny
Greatest Fear: Drowning
Why?: Can't Swim
Other Fears: Cartman Finding Out About Insecurities/Fear/That His Words Sometimes Hurt
Why?: Cartman is Cartman
Most at Ease When: With Karen, Kenny, Olivia, Kyle or Butters (or Any Combination)
Most Uncomfortable When: With Literally Anyone's Parents (They’re all so stupid… how are they even parents?)
Enraged When?: SOMEONE (CARTMAN) Insults My Friends/Family
Depressed When?: I Let My Stupid Insecurities Get to Me
Frightened When?: Getting Too Deep in Water
If Granted One Wish What Would It Be?: That I Didn’t Need Glasses
Habits
Hobbies: Art, Martial Arts, Reading
Instrument?: Nope (It'd be cool though)
Sport?: Martial Arts
Spending Habits: Um… If I Get Excited I Just Buy Shit but I MOstly Hate Shopping
Drinks?: NOPE
Smokes?: EW
Drugs?: EXTRA EW
Nervous Tics: Tugging on Earlobe, Chewing Lip
Favorites
Prized Possession: Star Ring
Color: Silver
Song: When The Day Met The Night by PATD
Quote: “Twinkle twinkle little star, do you know how loved you are”
Movie: Peter Pan
Food: Honey Butter Biscuits
Season: Fall
Book: Harry Potter
Genre: Fantasy
Flower: Stargazers
Flavor: Blueberry
Dessert: Blueberry Coffee Cake
Either/Or
Pessimist or Optimist: Optimist
Pacifist or Fighter: Fighter
Introvert or Extrovert: Extrovert
Proud or Humble: Humble
Messy or Tidy: Messy
Risky or Safe: Risky
Strength or Wisdom: Strength
Flashy or Simple: Simple
Long Range or Short Range: Long Range
Cats or Dogs: Dogs
Hot or Cold: Cold
Book or Movie: Movie
Loud or Quiet: Quiet
Logic or Emotion: Emotion
Work or Relax: Relax
Confident or Shy: Confident
Night or Day: Night
Out of 10
Knowledge: 6/10
Wisdom: 5/10
Motivation: 4/10
Agility: 6/10
Power Control: 7/10
Hand to Hand: 8/10
Long Range Accuracy: 6/10
Offense: 7/10
Defense: 4/10
Reflexes: 5/10
Speed: 7/10
Strength: 6/10
Sociability: 5/10
Bravery: 7/10
Confidence: 6/10
Generosity: 5/10
Endurance: 4/10
Evasion: 6/10
Kindness: 5/10
Creativity: 8/10
Charisma: 6/10
Memory: 5/10
Temper: 2/10
Patience: 8/10
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Kissed by the Baddest Trainer! [KBTBB Pokemon!AU]
(Based off a lot of @maidofstars’ and @catchthespade’s posts.)
Adventure Log 5
Baba glances at ___’s sleeping form from his perch on Swanna’s back with a small smile. He has a present for her impressive Gyarados. Baba will admit to only himself that he is surprised at the fact her Gyarados is an overprotective male over her, Minccino, Togepi and Eevee. He throws a few pebbles and two did a direct hit. He makes a small silent victory pose when he sees Minccino bolt upright, alerting ___. He waits until she sees his shadow before waving. The second she’s outside, he smiles at her. “Hey Princess,” he greets. “I have to hand it to you about that tip. That man honestly has no clue what the stones are or can do. Here!” Baba tosses something at her and winks. “Give it to that Gyarados of yours,” he grins. “Consider it a thank you gift, dear! I’ll see you again sometime!” And then he flies off with a soft chuckle. He loves ___ but is rather disgruntled over the fact that the other men he associates with also have feelings for her. ~*~ Shuichi hangs up from his call with Luke over his Holo Caster feeling confused. As a small break from gauging and advising relationships, he decides to check in on the egg he gave Luke. He cannot believe that the professor handed the egg to someone else who was able to make it hatch successfully and healthy. Something that he’s somewhat ashamed of as a Breeding Connoisseur. “At least now I know that she’s in good hands,” he sighs over a cup of black coffee. “But who’s the trainer she’s with? Whomever they are, I’d like to meet them one day…” Little does he know that Togepi is now a happy thing with a girl that Ota had mentioned during a meeting. All he is worried about right now is that his Togekiss’ sister is safe. Their parents had been under bad conditions and died before his hatched. “I can’t believe the breeder I got their parents from was that bad,” he frowns into his cup. “I’m just glad that he didn’t have to see them dead.” He sets the cup down before walking back out onto the streets again, but not without leaving a decent tip. ~*~ Chisato sets a baby Poliwag to sleep after feeding it. She sighed before looking at Kangaskhan. Her large assistant is outside taking care of a few Pokémon that Connoisseur Shuichi had left in her care. She understands that some were from before he started taking breeding seriously. Chisato sighs again before going to Blissey. The Happiness Pokémon is making something in the kitchen and Chisato smiles at her other companion. “Thanks Blissey,” she greets. “I bet everyone will feel better after a good breakfast. I’ll take care of the rest. Would you please help Kangaskhan to check on some of the other Pokémon?” “Blissey Blissey,” she nods then exits. Chisato finishes making scrambled eggs and omelet rice for the more older Pokémon and mashed berries for the baby ones with some easy to eat kibble. ~*~ A Slurpuff waddles to a Miltank and looks at it. {What are you doing here,} it whines. {Sakiko is needing help in the kitchen!} The Miltank turns to see the smaller Pokémon. {I am busy enough having to be milked,} it points out. {I’m still here with a machine on me…} Slurpluff feels ridiculous now and leaves. “There you are,” Sakiko relieved voice reaches its ears. “I need some help in keeping some of the customers in check. I don’t want the Police here.” It nods then heads out to the floor of the restaurant. Pokémon can sometimes get too rowdy when it comes to not being enough food out. ~*~ Iris wonders through a door to an empty mansion to look around. According to stories the house was haunted and Iris wanted to look for herself to see if it’s just actual ghosts or Pokémon having too much fun. She senses Lucario cradling Cleffa and the smaller Pokémon clings to him. Spreading her own Aura out, Iris scans the area. Something brushes against her Aura and she stops to study what it is. It was obviously not human… but the Aura matches a human’s soul… “Gothitelle, Aura matchup,” Iris whispers and holds out the Poké Ball. “Gothi Gothitelle,” the Astral Body Pokémon nods. It wasn’t long before Iris can see that the new Aura matches a ghost type with another mixed in. She takes out the Pokédex Luke supplied her with and points at it. The scan reveals it to be a little Litwick. Suddenly a form darts in front of her and Iris pulls out a Poké Ball. “Enough Rotom,” she speaks. “Time to rest.” A whine comes from Rotom as it goes back into its Poké Ball. Iris didn’t need her Rotom scaring the little candle shaped Pokémon. She notices that the flame is growing brighter and offers a Poképuff. She watches as the Litwick cautiously moves before taking the Poképuff, flame growing smaller. With Lucario’s help Iris locates the door for the Litwick to go home and back to its Trainer in Ghost World. As she exits, Iris giggles. Luke will be having a hard time getting over the fact she was with a lethal Pokémon. ~*~ Eisuke frowns upon reaching the berry farm. He scans the list that Ota gave him before his arrival here. According to what the Angelic Coordinator had on the list, the berries are to help increase the Cuteness and Toughness ___’s Pokémon for the best ranks. The main problem for ___ is that the berries needed for the boosts aren’t common where she is going for the badges and ribbons. He glances at Persian, who is just grooming himself, then back at the fields upon fields of berries. How is he to find the ones he needs?! Eisuke didn’t want to send a servant to get these berries and did want to use it as another window to offer the modeling position to her. More than just the cute things for now. Right now… “First things first,” he grumbles while scanning the bushes. The first one is for Cuteness and he reaches towards the one closest to him. “Mawile,” comes a sharp scold. Eisuke turns in time to see Persian using Protect against a Mawile’s Fairy Wind. He narrows his eyes to search for its Trainer and sees a young woman running in their direction. “Use Bite,” she yells, ponytail flying behind her. “Show that intruder he can’t touch them!” Intruder?! Puh-lease! He is Eisuke Ichinomiya, and he waits for no one. And if this is how it’s going to be, well then. “Power Gem then Slash,” he orders. The first attack gets wedged into the Mawile’s horns, giving Persian the perfect opening to use the second attack. Eisuke let’s his signature smirk form as the woman runs up, shocked. About time he gets recognized as the CEO of Ichinomiya Corporation. An hour and a half later, Eisuke leaves Erica’s berry farm with a large crate of berries needed for ___ to boost her Pokémon for the Contests happy. While he isn’t glad that Erica is also ___’s fan, he will be buying half the farm for the Corporation. “It’s not just for ___,” Eisuke speaks aloud. “It’s also for business in Pokémon food.” A soft chuff reaches his ears and he glances at Persian. The Classy Cat Pokémon has a look in his eyes that Eisuke knows as that he’s seen right through him. Again. ~*~ Mei Ling sighs as she re-reads the message Soryu just send to her for the fifth time. It was beyond her comprehension. How could her father not tell her? A race to create a new pseudo-legendary Pokémon had been a goal for many teams along with getting the necessary tools to summon or control the legendary Pokémon themselves. She knows her dad is desperately looking for something that can get Rayquaza tamed enough for him to catch it for Team Suzumushi’s plans of total unification. This is something she’ll have to him about. Getting Rayquaza to listen is as easy as getting either a stubborn Bouffalant or Tauros to follow orders in battle. But little does she know of something highly unusual with the Rayquaza her dad is seeking or about a small ring that Soryu keeps hidden.
Author’s Note: I used @maidofstars‘ drawing regarding how MC got her Gyaradosite for that part. I didn’t want to leave out any of the girls that MC meets and know so this part was a bit more centered around them. I might make a mini-series or spin-off series for how all the bidders, MC, and Rhion can special summon. What will happen next? Who knows readers. Oh and the lady with the Mawile, it’s Erica.
#serenity writes#kissed by the baddest bidder#kbtbb#kbtbb eisuke#kbtbb baba#kbtbb iris#kbtbb chisato#kbtbb sakiko#eisuke ichinomiya#mitsunari baba#iris foster#chisato#sakiko
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Things I Thought That Were Not COVID (January - June) Ending
~having journaling sessions so intense I get a headache
~ the RHONY cast casually drinking martinis plural at bars like it's a chill thing to do and they're not immediately going to black out?? Damn.
~ e v e r m o r e
~ the intensely stressful harmonica opening of All I Really Want while Alanis wails "do I stress you out" over the top of it
~ today I feel like an eye that opened very very wide. What I saw was a door, opening
~ through the fog I thought the city was the sky
~ I carry all of this inside of me. It makes me very still
~ "I am slow as the world.
I am very patient,
Turning through my time, the suns and stars
Regarding me with attention.
The moon's concern is more personal:
She passes and repasses, luminous as a nurse.
Is she sorry for what will happen? I do not think so.
She is simply astonished at fertility."
~ people with no self awareness/people with no sense of humor about themselves truly need to go live on a farm away from me
~ the piano player that lives below me, the guitar player that lives above me
~ "the sun whose rays are all ablaze"
~ Room Memory I: the PERFECT sensation. Wearing my coat with a bagful of plastic spoons in my hands, leaping into krts car that smelled like dogs and cigs and is a smell that makes me feel so warm. Going over the bridge into Minneapolis chatting with them while the radio played (krts parents would play the radio, old and new, it was a thing I have never ever stopped appreciating). The times we'd get snacks at the theatre, dreaming of the day we'd be old enough to look upstairs (we haven't yet). The dark room, the laughter in the shadows and the feeling of fulfillment and validation. How their parents were there to collect us after and I got to see them on the Monday after that night.
~ Room Memory II: me and emma and bast going to see it in the winter of a year I can't remember. Driving across the Minneapolis bridge in a snow storm, slow but with intention. We arrived early, and saw a cat on it's way home before taking shelter in a late night kowalskis. They had never seen it before, and I think my friend Eric was there but that might have been another time. Laughter, darkness. Emma drove home in the blizzard, tracking over deep, deep, inches of snow in the dark over the bridge and home. When we got back my parents were asleep, and I remember us piling our feet over the vent to catch the heat in my living room. Oh, babes.
~ why do people ask where the love you had for a person goes when that person is no longer with you?? As though feelings are so easily generated that you can just release a life that you led and say "that goes there now, away". I think I'm STILL feeling everything I've ever felt in my life, nothing can truly ever go away. Also, the idea that because a person is no longer beside you that that somehow influences how you feel and what you feel and when you feel it! Can't relate.
~ That Scene in Frances Ha where they fight in the bathroom and:
Sophie: You're bullshit, and you're making me feel really bad right now.
Frances: I want to love him if you love him, but you don't love him.
Sophie: I DO.
Frances: Sophie, I fucking held your head while you cried, I bought special milk for you, I know where you hide your pills, don't treat me like a three hour brunch friend.
Sophie: I'm not talking to you while you're like this.
~ I never would have known, but there are pieces of me only Paul and Fred can reach. I want to go back to my Little Self, the first time I saw Fred, probably hungover, wiping sleep out of his eyes in that chair in Brownville, and whisper: "that's your brother. That's your real brother." She might burst into tears and never stop weeping with joy. That she had a brother who was a good man. A man of character.
~ I got fired, and two days later I allowed myself to get packed into a truck and taken to a lake. On the way there I stopped at the first restaurant I'd been to since march, and I was so scared I slurped down three vodka sodas with a burger. When I arrived it felt like a miracle, like paradise. I remember everyone went to the beach in the twilight but I stayed, and sat on the patio and smoked a stolen cig, and listened to The Beautiful Ones 5 times thinking of how badly I'd like to be a nun because I couldn't stand the thought of other people. Somehow the moment still makes me feel so. Just So. Hearing it now is like seeing a ghost.
~ do all people feel this way? Oscillating between airy fulfillment and vanilla scented oblivion? When I think about death I think of little sideways smiles, heavy lids, radiator squeaks, That Tree I still see in my memories. Somedays I feel like I'm full of Cool Whip, otherwise gelatinous, heavy, falling apart like an aspic.
~I still refuse to be sorry that I find some of the things lena dunham does and says to be funny, suck my hood
~ I constantly see tweets and stories that go something like "I told my 4 year old ____ and then they *insert action or phrase no 4 year old would ever do or say*. Yes, brilliant child. Yes." Like....the compulsive need to make shit up about your child in order to appeal to strangers on the internet is a form of Munchausen by proxy we as a society would do well to reckon with. It wasn't ok when those lesbians with the adopted kids made their son hug that cop, it's not cool for your "cute" tweet, babe.
~ people who refer to their pets as "fur babies" have either tried to or successfully gotten their pets to eat them out. You can't change my mind.
~ the stars in Death Valley
~ next year in Nebraska
~ it's beshert. No matter what you choose, no matter where it goes, the act of looking and of learning was beshert. This moment was meant to be.
~ it's going to be such a bummer when my tits start to go off to the side when I lay down. How can we endure it?
~ family: watching musicals with The Boys, swearing that we'll go to NYC together. Fred's face, Paul's smile, the sound of MEMORY let your Memory lead you I remember a time I knew what happiness was let the Memory live again
~ I'm too upset to write / I'm too upset not to write
~ the bruise, the deep round bruise, the lump beneath it
~ $80,000 each; $240,000 total after amendments
~ I lean to my wound, I lean to my wound
~ disgusting girl, nasty pie-faced thing filled with fruit the color of plastic gems. Veins plugged up with sugar, eyes full of stars.
~ its lucky to not be bothered at all by blood, I must have been born under something (or over something)
~ this is the worst lead up so far I've ever had. Utterly alone, unsupported by....who? The r u b i c o n, the gentry, even the rabble. Sitting in a lukewarm tub, soaking the wound, empty head in the room between shitting and living. Thank god for grapefruit chapstick, and for Them.
~I'm.......babing out
~ how nice for her, how nice for him, how nice for everyone (breaks glass in my fist)
~ I am the drug that you need, shoot me up shoot me up
~ Jennifer Jason Leigh in Single White Female was a definite top
~ muttering to myself in a Mark Wahlberg voice just to get a good giggle
~ making things for my brothers daughter; playing peeks with Jeremy; reading a book with John; playing sticks with natalie; talking about books with Noah. Being a woman with five nieces and nephews to watch grow up.
~ “She wanted to die, but she also wanted to live in Paris.”
~ Nora Ephron, and Melissa Broder. The now maligned art of self-confessional writing that I find infuriating when men do it (woody allen) but not unlike sinking into a hot bath when a n y o n e else does it.
~ My dad telling me about his golf tournament, my dad telling me stories of seeing bands in the 70s, my dad finding out who Blac Chyna is and saying "she's amazing", my dad knowing every character ever on Law and Order, my dad and Noah bent over a chessboard, my dad taking a splinter out of my sisters finger.
~ if I was a Housewife my tagline would be: "my attitude isn't MY problem, it's yours!"
~ I have a recurring nightmare where I went to my first day of Spanish class and then just never returned? And I knew I was going to fail but for some reason really wanted to make it to the final bc that might make a difference? True claustrophobic panic.
~ I have an incurable disease? I have an incurable disease!
~ a m e r i c a n w o m a n
~ DR Q: should I be on antibiotics until surg? Ointment yes. What in detail will happen after surg/how will it heal/will it heal? If the wound is not going to heal after surgery is it necessary to do it at all? Down the line, when can I have sex? Can I take full body baths? Is there a specialist I can take these to? Should I shave before surg? Infections?
~Potential Bday Marathon w bois: Big Lebowski, Wild, Stand By Me, Almost Famous, Frances Ha
~ I am going to be well, I am going to heal, and I am going to be better one mesh shirt and gauze pad at a time
~ Tommy Wiseau saying "I've sumfin fer youuuuu"
~ hating the Grateful Dead SO much but knowing all the words to Box of Rain. Singing it in the bath first thing in the morning while my coffee brews.
~ I've been making this list for a year
~ "Butt out, Baby"
~ What I have done I was compelled to do
~ sitting here in this humid April heat, remembering the blizzard last Easter, with Band of Brothers episode 5 on the tv, a lavender candle flaming, a message from Fred flitting across my screen like a dear little bird, my disease pulsing in my cells, my hair long in a ponytail, thinking of my brothers wedding in a few days. I've cried three times. 'You should be so lucky,' I think, over and over again. 'You should be so lucky to have this love, to have room for this pain. Le douleur exquise.' Thank you and thank you and thank you (and, if you have time, let me heal)
~on the phone with Natalie, laughing hysterically as she takes shots and calls me Marat
~ Last night in my dream the doctor called my wound "the bog"
~ I might....actually want to watch Desperate Housewives again
~ the dinner the RHONY gals have in the Berkshires season 8 is my IDEAL meal, just a roast chicken with herbs de provence, mashed potatoes, fresh green beans, and cranberries.
~ Again, tonight in the bath:
"Just a box of rain
Wind and water
Believe it if you need it
If you don't, just pass it on
Sun and shower, wind and rain
In and out the window like a moth before a flame
And it's just a box of rain
I don't know who put it there
Believe it if you need it
Or leave it if you dare
And it's just a box of rain
Or a ribbon for your hair
Such a long long time to be gone
And a short time to be there"
~ a really cathartic thing to do is throw ice cubes at the wall
~ crying on the kitchen floor and thinking of amy winehouse singing: "I cried for you on the kitchen floor."
~ note for later: what are you doing? What are you d o i n g ? Get out, get out, get out. It ain't shit, babe. Ain't shit.
~ you're a woman of genuine wit, write what you feel and how you're feeling it. Someone, someone, someone anywhere will see it and will cheer
~ that season of vanderpump where schaena fucked adam and denied it the whole time but was so obviously in Love with him while he could care less about her, culminating in her adopting a penguin from the zoo and giving him the gift of it. She named it after him. Imagine loving someone that much that you would do this.
~ the loveliness of a braid. A braid in hair, in rope, in bread. How a figment becomes a pattern, becomes history slapping against my shoulders.
~ spring cleaning for mothers day. Egg salad and a nip of whiskey after dark. Feeling very old and yet very at sea
~ A Thought: I should think about my neighbors on my death bed. I hear them speak through my walls, the boy that gets in screaming philosophical arguments and the upstairs girls who shriek. My neighbors who stomp, and my neighbors who dance all around me, the ones who were groaning in pain in the stairwell before going quiet. I can hear their laughter, and I've thrown things towards it and felt bad about it later. Their pianos on cold fall afternoons, and the late night guitar they probably think nobody hears. The couple with the large, spindly dog who isn't allowed to be here, and the cat that I pet on the stairs, the barefoot boy cradling his cat in his arms after the fire alarm went off, the chic looking lady with her carrier. The girl I went to college with, hidden somewhere in here. The ones who've come, and who've gone. They've likely heard me, too; crying, coming, laughing until I have to scream into it. Maybe they hear my music, too. I've left them cough drops, left them notes, brought packages upstairs, held the door, gifted cups of detergent. I'll remember the bike, abandoned in the laundry room even when management kept sending emails about it.
~ I'm afraid one day I'm going to turn around in bed and my wound will be my lover, my wound will be companion, who will press up against me as I make coffee, who will throb under my sheets, who will sit beside me as I eat dinner, drink a glass of wine. She weeps, and last night I thought: "do I make you wet, baby?" and I laughed. Hedwig says laugh because otherwise you'll cry, I'll remember it forever. When I laughed everything tightened up and I Hurt and Hurt. Tonight I'm very, very, very alone, and my bath radiated through me like I was a boiled lobster. When I watched RHONY naked I felt the wound put its hand on my thigh, and it felt like I was living with someone I didn't trust. Gone Girl hours.
~ I look like a cloud
~ I have a true disease of the soul and mind in which I'm not capable of forgetting anything. This must be due in part to me being a Leo and therefore being a righteous holder of grudges, but I can't even manage to forget a purchase I made at CVS that I didn't feel great about three years ago much less an interaction with a friend that isn't reflective of Either of us now but that fills me with rot. In this sense, retrospect hits me very hard because nothing ever leaves me. I'm like a desk and papers get piled on top of each other and sometimes it gets messy but each memory is just under the surface of another. Needless to say, if I tell somebody that I can't remember something I'm usually lying to them just to avoid being bored. Which is something to think about, to be sure. Anyway, tell me the story again.
~ I feel naughty and covetous, big-titted and sharp-toothed and green-eyed and hungry hungry hungry hungry hungry. I always get this way when the whether turns hot. Everything is getting deeper, thicker. For the better and the worse. Keep your candy away from me or I'm going to take it from you.
~ "My daughter. My last one. She's my sin. She's what I smeared on the world."
~ the beginning of the summer I sweat, and I bleed, and crack, and i hate and hate, until. Until. The window must be left open, to let the lion in. While I sleep it crawls out of my closet and lays down upon me and I wake up with my hair in a snarl and an insatiable throbbing in my veins. The air is hot, and I'm ready to swallow the moon again. Be r e b o r n.
~ it's nice to meet you. I'm 26 years old, I'm a woman of cracks and fissures, a woman of unprentention who relishes pretending, baddest, chatterbox slut, writing gay porn every night if i can manage it, irremediable sky watcher, secret smoker, mainliner of unhip music, dizzy lady, silly goose. I think the moon is in my neighbors window, and I look up at the impression and thank her.
~ I'm vaccinated, I'm going to a party at my sisters house, I have a person in my phone who I think likes me and I Know wants to fuck me. I've written 1,000 words every day this week. This year I’m spending my birthday in Nebraska. Let the season begin, let me move west into a long, brilliant wind.
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