#big giant rambling paragraphs

[darlingdaisyfarm]

texting Stan and Ford headcanons

smut version

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Stan Pines

✧ Stan is the kinda guy who thinks emojis are a scam, but somehow, he figured out how to use the "thumbs up" and "money bag" emoji. so, expect a lot of those in your chats.

✧ his text tone is rough, a little misspelled, typed like he's yelling even when he isn’t. Half of his texts are in all caps, and he absolutely does not care about grammar. but he gets the point across, always.

✧ you’re getting messages at 3 am about some ‘brilliant’ scheme to make a quick buck. he’ll send, “LISTEN, doll, what if we made... GIANT… glitter-filled eggs for easter? Tourists'll go NUTS." you reply, half-asleep, with “Stan, ily but go to bed." and all you get back is a “🤬 YOU GOTTA THINK BIGGER!”

✧ Stan sends those weird chain messages he swears are from some “hotshot businessman” that’ll make you rich in a week. and when you don’t respond immediately, you get a: “Fine, Miss Doubtful, see you when I’m rolling in gold.”

✧ there are whole days where he just floods your phone with random, blurry photos of some new Mystery Shack "artifact" he found. It’s usually junk he picked up at a garage sale, like a “haunted” ashtray or some knock-off painting that’s “probably ancient.”

✧ If he’s feeling sappy (and tipsy): you might get a rare “thinking bout you, sweet thing” at 2 am. but if you try to call him on it the next day, he’ll just be like “Didn’t say that. You’re makin’ stuff up.”

✧ when he’s really riled up about something, though? then his messages are just. . . a stream of caps-lock curses, mixed with misspelled attempts to describe whatever nonsense he just got himself into. you just sit back and let him rant; he’ll cool off eventually.

✧ and the voice messages are something else. they sound like he’s talking through a fan half the time. one minute, he’s rambling about how tourists are “the dumbest suckers on the planet” and the next, he’s ranting about how “bigfoot definitely broke into the shack last night!"

types of messages Stan texts: 

"So… whatcha wearin’? 😏"

“Hey doll, I just found a penny on the ground! Maybe today’s my lucky day… hint hint ;)"

"I’d say somethin’ romantic, but I think my brain just shorted out. You’re a little too cute for a guy like me."

"Just tried that new café downtown. Ordered coffee… tastes like they filtered it through someone’s laundry. You’d hate it. Wanna come mock it with me?"

"Not gonna lie, I miss that face of yours. So what’re we doin’ about it, huh?"

“Again missin’ that cute little smile of yours… maybe you could send me a pic to remind me?”

"Wanna help me scam the tourists today? I’ll split the loot with ya… maybe ;)”

"You wouldn’t believe what I caught Ford muttering in his sleep. Man’s like a walking encyclopedia, even when he’s unconscious."

“Got any plans later? Thought maybe we could… y’know… not have plans together."

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Ford Pines 

✧ hehehehe he’s like an old-school emailer who’s just now getting the hang of messaging apps. texts in complete sentences, full punctuation, like he’s drafting a dissertation.

✧ He sends you whole paragraphs at random hours, talking about some discovery he’s made, like he’s reporting directly to NASA. you’re like, “Ford, it's just a weird-looking squirrel." and he's already typing another essay about its "possible interdimensional origins."

✧ once in a while, he’ll send you a message that says, “Are you awake?” at, like 3 am followed by a string of thoughtful yet completely bonkers hypotheses. you find it cute, though, his mind never stops, not even for a second.

✧ If he’s feeling bold, you might even get a “hypothetical” confession out of him: “Hypothetically, if one were to develop... strong emotional attachment to a certain person... how would one proceed?" You tease him about it the next day, and he gets flustered, “It was purely scientific curiosity."

✧ Ford isn’t big on emojis, but he likes the brain and alien ones, using them poetically. he’ll sign off texts with a single brain emoji, like it’s his version of a little goodbye wave.

✧ on really rare occasions, he’ll send a voice message. they’re always way too long, and it’s usually him whispering so he doesn’t wake Stan up. he goes on about cosmic rays or “gravity anomalies,” his voice dropping lower when he gets excited. you live for those moments

✧ and if he ever texts you a “good night,” you just know he’s been up thinking about it for hours, trying to figure out if it’s “appropriate.”

types of messages Ford texts: 

“It’s been approximately 3 hours, 12 minutes, and 23 seconds since our last conversation… not that I’m counting or anything. Just… miss you."

sends a meme about science nerds “Us. But mostly me.”

“My hands ache from writing… though perhaps if it were writing about you, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Do you think about me too, or am I the only one utterly ruined by this… whatever this is?”

“I’ve been thinking about that book you lent me... 🤔 It’s honestly so much more interesting than I expected, thank you for recommending it."

"I don’t know how to work this... But I managed to send a meme! It’s not the worst thing I’ve done, I suppose? 

“I did it. I fixed the telescope. Finally. Now we can actually look at the stars like we’ve talked about. :)"

"I hope you’re feeling okay today. I noticed you seemed a little stressed the other day. Don’t forget to take care of yourself. :) It’s important."

"If I could rearrange the periodic table, I’d put U and I together. :( Sorry, nerdy joke... :’D)”

ps - I CANT THEYRE SO CUTE BOTH I WANT TO SMASH THEM AGAINST THE WALL

lmao if someone wants, i can write some spicy types of chatting with them :)))

[theemporium]

James Potter had never felt so secondary in his own relationship as much as he did in that moment.

Between quidditch practices, last minute assignments and the buzz of the summer approaching that would mark the end of your time at Hogwarts, you and James had barely had a chance to spend more than a few minutes alone. To be completely honest, you had barely spent much time with each other around other people too, outside of the meals in the Great Hall. 

It was taking a toll on you both. 

You craved your boyfriend. You craved his warm hugs and his infectious laughs and the big smile on his face that would somehow brighten whenever his gaze caught yours. 

He missed his girlfriend. He missed the way you would nuzzle into his side and your random rambles and the sweet smell of your perfume that seemed to ease the heaviness of his body. 

Maybe it was a little pathetic, but neither of you cared. You just wanted each other, and that is exactly why James had planned the picnic out by the Black Lake during a free afternoon you both seemed to share (well, he was slacking off one quidditch practice but he didn’t tell you that). 

Except, now he had you in his vicinity—in his fucking arms—and your attention wasn’t on him. 

He had laid the blanket out in a spot with just enough shade for the sun not to bother either of you. He had a basket full of your favourite foods that he bribed the elves in the kitchen to make. He had leaned back against the tree trunk and pulled you against his chest. 

And now after lunch, your attention seemed to be on some stupid book instead of him. 

It was safe to say James wasn’t taking it well.

“Baby,” James groaned as he leaned his head down on your shoulder, a frustrated huff leaving his lips. “How much longer?” 

“Just wanna finish the chapter, babe,” you murmured distractedly, your brows furrowed together as the words on the page seemed to keep a lock on your attention.

“You said that two chapters ago,” he retorted, lips brushing over the bare skin of your shoulder as he focused on placing soft pecks that would usually have you wiggling underneath him. And yet, right now it seemed like you barely noticed. 

“I promise this time,” you assured him.

James let out a small scoff, this one a little bitter as he propped his chin on your shoulder and peeked over to glance at the book in your lap. “What’s the big deal anyways? I’ve never seen you so—”

“James, no!” 

But you didn’t get a chance to grab the book back from him before his eyes started to glance over the page, his lips slowly parting in surprise as he read a paragraph near the middle of the page.

His hand tightened around her throat, just enough for a whimpering gasp to pass her pouting lips. His lips twitched upwards, the pressure on her neck increasing as his free hand slid down to gently trace her needy pussy over the soaked fabric of her panties. His fingers hooked the fabric to the side before spreading—

But the book was ripped from his grasp and quickly closed shut as you looked anywhere but your boyfriend’s surprised face. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment as you squirmed in your seat, contemplating if it was worth jumping into the lake and hoping the giant squid would put you out of your misery. 

You wanted to say something, but couldn’t seem to bring yourself to open your mouth. Luckily for you, James was the one to make the first move to talk.

“Is this what you’ve been replacing me with, princess?” His voice was lower, and a little rougher too. His eyes narrowed in on you, awaiting a response that he already knew. But James liked to make you squirm, he liked to make you say it. 

You nodded. 

“That’s not an answer, baby,” he tutted disapprovingly, shaking his head. “Use your words. You seem to like them a lot these days.” 

“I just missed you,” you confessed, a little breathless and flustered. “And you were busy and I didn’t wanna disturb you so I—” 

He raised his brows. “So you?” 

“I liked to imagine it was you, it was us,” you admitted in a shy voice, your face heating up in embarrassment. “But it was never the same.”

He tilted his head. “No?”

“You’re better.”

His grin widened, smugness and arrogance dripping oozing from him as he tugged you closer. “Yeah? So desperate for the real thing that you ran to your lil’ books to help?”

You nodded. 

“Well, who am I to stop you?” James mused cheekily, enjoying the way your brows furrowed in confusion as he pulled you close until your back was pressed against his chest again. Your thighs were pressed against his, his chin tucked against your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your middle. 

“James,” you breathed out, but no further words followed.

“I want you to keep reading, princess,” his voice rasped in your ear, lips brushing against your lobe as he placed the book on your lap. “Read it out to me, hm?”

Your stomach dipped at the prospect. “I—”

“Please, princess?” And when he asked so nicely, how could you say no?

But James Potter was overwhelming in every sense of the word. He overwhelmed you physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. And you loved it. You really, really did. You loved the warmth of his body behind you, his thick arms around you, his curls tickling against your skin. It made you want to close your eyes and bask in his embrace. 

Your brain was already moosh as you flipped the book open to the page he had interrupted you on, your cheeks already burning as you read over the words. But then you opened your mouth, ready to continue, only for James to slip his hands underneath the hem of your skirt and every coherent thought in your brain to just disappear.

“Read, princess,” he demanded softly as his hands squeezed the fat of your thighs.

But it was impossible.

It was impossible to keep your eyes on the page, to read word after word when his big, warm hands were pushing your legs apart. It was fucking impossible to read a sentence when his fingers brushed over your clothed cunt. It was so goddamn fucking impossible to care about anything else when he was hooking your panties to the side and giving him full access to your needy, soaking pussy that had been craving him for weeks.

“He dipped his head down, his—fuck,” you choked out with a choked moan as his thumb pressed teasingly slow circles against your clit. 

“That doesn’t sound right, baby,” he taunted, his lips brushing against your neck as he slowly worked your pussy as if it wasn’t already wet and leaking for him. “Try again.”

“His lips worked along her thighs as his tongue darted out to taste her leaking arousal,” you breathed out, the words slurring together as you leaned your head back against his shoulder. “James, please.”

“Aw, my poor princess, is it too much?” He cooed mockingly, the smug smirk on his face plastered against your skin as he nuzzled his face further into the crook of your neck. “Maybe I need to listen to that book of yours, clean up the mess you’ve made.”

“Shit,” you hissed, your lips parting in a silent scream as he slowly pushed one thick finger into you, feeling the way you desperately clenched around him. “More.”

“So greedy,” James mused as he watched the way his fingers disappeared between your legs, the soft, debauched squelching noises your pussy was making, just for him. “Didn’t realise how much you missed me, baby.”

“So much,” you whined as your eyes fluttered shut, the book long abandoned to the side. “Needed you to fuck me so bad, Jamie.”

“Shit, honey, can’t say stuff like that,” he groaned, his fingers curling inside you. “Gotta feel you come on my fingers before I fuck you, princess.” 

“James,” you whimpered.

“That’s it, baby, be a good girl f’me and come,” he cooed softly as he felt your body tense in his embrace, quickly wrapping an arm around your middle as you arched against him. “Just like that. Atta girl, princess, doin’ so fucking well f’me.” 

Your body was still pressed against his when he slid his fingers out, drenched and glistening in your arousal before he lifted them to his own lips, making a point of slurping them clean before his hand fell to your thigh. 

“Forgot how fucking good you tasted,” he grumbled into your ear, a little gruff and breathless. “Gonna let my cock have a taste next, princess?”

.

[dazzling-raven]

Thoughts and rambles on episode eight! Spoilers below the cut ^^

Alright. Now that I've had a moment to process how everything went down, I have some thoughts. I'm going to try not to write a 5 paragraph essay on the thing, but the one major thing I'd like to say is that the episode is visually phenomenal. Absolutely stunning. Blew my mind. However, it did feel a tad bit rushed.

Now obviously this is the episode where everything hits the fan and nobody really got to sit down and have a ten minute therapy session, but I'm kinda disappointed in how the character arcs were wrapped up. It kinda feels like this episode was a giant boss fight and then nothing else really. Happened. You know? Like the big bad is defeated and we're all happy now. Wich they absolutely deserve after going through that hellstorm, but a little elaboration would have been nice.

That aside though, there were lots of moments in the episode that I loved. Like the bit where N and Uzi were arguing in the spaceship and N said something along the lines of 'I'm so mad at you right now' but then they immediately hug each other and put the argument away for a moment when they weren't being chaced by giant space tentacles. I think this in itself is massive character growth for him, and communicating is key for a good relationship. Wich speaking of.

Nuzi is cannon! We got a confession. Loved that moment. I guess better late than never, right? And their dorky litte handshake mid boss fight? They both have a total of four braincells and they take the other two from their partner whenever one of them is in danger. I love it. Need more of that dynamic.

And V. I feel for V so much in this episode. The scene in the tunnel broke my heart. You cannot tell me that she dosen't at least feel a fondness for their time at the mannor because she was so sad but so relieved when she found out that he was ok. I want more of them so bad. Also I near shrieked with joy when she came in riding the sentinel like a total pro, that's probably one of my favorite little side bits.

Also I really feel for all of you Jessa shippers. I hoped on the Jessa train not too long ago myself, and I was really disappointed with the way they handled J. But at the same time, I think it's hilarious that she canonically died 3 times. Like. How did you even manage that. Even so, her character had a purpose, and I guess she served that purpose.

Also kind of disappointed that Thad, kahn and Lizzy were kind of just. There. But I did love the fact rhat lizzy and V's sentinel had beef from minute one. Girl cannot catch a break.

In all, I thought this episode was amazing. It definitely has it's flaws, but it's a strong episode and one of my favorites. It made me laugh, it tugged on my heartstrings, and it was a phenomenal end to a phenomenal show. So Liam, thank you for telling your story and bringing people together in only the way you knew how.

[kadextra]

orv reading again 👏 major spoilers :3

time for me to admit I read through the entirety of the demon king selection, 28 chapters, nonstop for hours <3 I was fully engrossed and could not stop until it was done

I’m speechless tbh that was absolutely amazing. so much happened. I need to process through all the information but I will ramble now in big paragraphs as usual

.

.

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best part was the “finding the real kim dokja” scenario ajhkahfjgkhkh that was so silly 😭 then I was completely shocked when dokja read his own information in the window and became a character. the biyoo captured part had me white knuckling my phone. Screams and cries at joonghyuk spamming worried messages to dokja for a whole day when he suddenly disappeared. going off alone to search for him when no answer was received….. hurghh

ADMIT IT YOU CARE ABOUT HIM 💥💥

dokja can read the constellations’ stories now and seeing king of a kingless world in action was so awesome!!!

when the actual game of the demon king selection started I thought “huh this is cool but sorta too simple…? lets see where it goes I guess” but then I soon came to realize oh! this was all just setup for the unexpected stuff which is going to come after the game. of course it was never gonna be so easy, orv defies my expectations yet again! (I should expect that by now<3)

onto the inner soul library(?), ohhh man it was fun to visualize the bookshelves stretching as far as the eye can see. seeing past characters who were eaten by the wall just Living There was a shock, and the mystery of secretive plotter grows

now the actual full-blown war that erupted?

what ghe hell what did I just read omfg IT WAS ONE CRAZY THING AFTER THE OTHER I WAS SHAKING THE WHOLE TIME

JOONGHYUK NEAR DYING THEN REFUSING TO REGRESS AND DECIDING TO LIVE HOLGFUGNITAJSUGUGJGJDA YUVJGUGFJGHFHFBDBBSBSVSVDHCJVKFJGBG DOKJA CRYING OVER HIS BATTERED BODY??? HAD ME IN TEARS. LIFE AND DEATH COMPANIONS. ASMODEUS KILLING SPREE LETS GO. URIEL DESCENDING??!!??!!?!?!?? BREAKING TGE TREATY BETWEEN EDEN AND DEMON REALM SACRIFICING HERSELF TO SAVE DOKJA LETS GO MY GIRL??? ? ??? 🔥 ⚔️🔥 SHES SO BEAUTIFUL AND EVERYTHING AND I LOVE HER SO MUCH. GORYEO FIRST SWORDSMAN THE GOAT. THE

The journey through the falling train-subway while the giant story narrated itself and highlighted the journey of survival taken to get here with each beloved companion. the love that brought everyone together now, even some who were unexpected (the two masters showing up alive made me emotional) all climbing upwards against seemingly insurmountable odds with the determination to fight to the end. succeeding at taking another step forwards to an ending created by their own hands.

lays down

[sindirimba]

🧩🍓🥑

🧩 what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately? as far as grammar and whatnot i'm pretty forgiving usually. but one thing that will always make me give up are giant unbroken paragraphs purely because i just can't physically read them. a lot of tumblr posts are no gos for the same reason. use a damn paragraph break!!!

otherwise, egregiously out of character actions are a big one. common answer but it's true. i like the characters, that's why i'm reading about them, obviously. also, 'character centric' stories that aren't actually about the character but are actually about the fandom preferred characters instead and the other one is just there as audience stand in. aka the nile problem in TOG fandom.

🍓 how did you get into writing fanfiction?  i answered this properly here but i'll be cheeky and ramble more. i lost my interest in fandom for like almost a decade. i would occasionally watch something and then glance at ao3 but nothing really captured my interest. and then i started seeing gifsets for TOG floating around on tumblr and was like, oh nile looks cool. canon m/m couple, that's nice. well it's now valentine's day 2021 and i've got nothing else to do on this night, i'm going to watch that movie tumblr keeps showing me evidence of. and after watching it i was like 1) wow i loved that 2) i want to know mooooore and 3) are people shipping nile and booker because 👀 and here i am. fun story i guess.

🥑 you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help? my first thought was @gaal-dornick because she could maybe help me go on the lam in brazil. maybe @nevermindirah because i think they're the closest person i live near (and still not very close, mind, but) and could help with body burial perhaps. or @rob-anybody or @bossymarmalade who could also help me escape to canada, as another option. i have too many connections. i'm so going to jail, fuck.

thank you 🖤

[heycerulean]

THE EXISTENCE, THE EXISTENT; THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN DEUS CADERI AND DEUS TENEBRI

hey yall. ya boi is rambling about their worldbuilding gods again syTP-TC rant go

A little while ago i'd made an intro post for the Pavilic Deities- i felt like there was some confusion around the great gods just because of the nature of their characters, so here's a more in depth thing. Analogy first; Imagine a pile of legos. This pile of legos is filled with legos of different shapes, sizes, and colors. Some might have been painted, or chipped, or are very old- and some are mint condition. The point is, this is a very varied pile of legos. Imagine two categories, about these legos. Category one is every thought you can have about them. It's every way you can describe them, describe how they are together or apart or anything. It's basically the paragraph you just read about the legos. Category two is the fact those legos exist. It's the fact that they take up space, and are there at all. It's the very essence of those legos. You can only have thoughts about the legos because the legos exist; you can only have category one when you have category two. And yet, you also can't have anything if you can't think about anything, so you need category one to have anything else. Some other analogies i've used; Category one is everything we know about atoms and how they interact with eachother and the world in itself, but category two is the atom. There's also a common one in Pavilic myth that's referenced where Category two is a giant ocean or expanse of water (space in some cases) where as Category one is everything that exists in and outside of that ocean. Obviously, category one and two refer to things. Category one (the existent) is Deus Tenebri, where as Category two (the existence) is Deus Caderi. Small difference, big impact. You can only have life because you have something to think about (only have tenebri because of caderi). You also can't really have anything without thinking about it, because then it would be formless and unfathomable- which, did happen, sure, and still does with parts of Caderi, but if you TALK about those parts, they become Tenebri, so who knows. In essence; Caderi is instinct, existence, and everything that is. It's the verb "to be", the very act of living. Tenebri, on the other hand, is everything that can be created, has been created, could be, couldn't be, never will- you get the picture. It's every thought, ever. It's everything that could possibly come from Caderi. Do you see where the term "The Constant And Their Hand" comes from? Caderi is the Constant. They are below everything, above everything, in everything. They are, and they can't stop being. However, when they interact with things, when anything is created from the void of being, Tenebri is also now there. And so; the hand. aight ted talk over thank yall :)

[archvillain-fandom]

response to barry lyga’s un/edited

Not sure what this is. A book review, maybe. A creative writing exercise. The ramblings of a madwoman. Whatever it is, it had to be written.

We’re sitting in the backyard of my childhood home, on our butts, on the grass, on top of the hill. It’s not the backyard as it is now, years after we sold the house and the new owners remodeled it, but it’s not the backyard from my first memories. The treehouse that my dad built for me at age 10 is in the avocado tree, and the giant eucalyptus has been cut down. I stare at the stump, big enough for a little girl to use as a table for her dolls.

“Who am I?” my indefinite companion asks.

“You’re Kyle Camden,” I reply.

“Oh.” Kyle looks at his body, which is suddenly a lot clearer. “From Archvillain?”

“Sort of,” I say. “You’re a version of Kyle that I extrapolated from Archvillain. You’re close to the character that was written, but not exactly the same. You’re a subversion of the real thing.”

“There is no ‘real’ Kyle Camden,” Kyle says.

“Touché.”

“So what’s different about me?” he asks.

I sigh. “Who knows? Maybe you’re less snarky. Maybe you have more empathy. Maybe you’re really me, when I was twelve. Who knows?”

“You said ‘who knows’ twice in the last paragraph,” he points out.

“I’ll get it when I edit,” I shrug. “Or maybe I won’t edit this. His book is called ‘Unedited,’ after all.”

“It’s called ‘Edited,’ too,” Kyle says. “Doesn’t that mean you should edit?”

I sigh. “Don’t be a smartass.”

His eyes widen. “Wait, we can curse in this?”

“Sure,” I say. “This isn’t a Scholastic book. This is a blog post on a blog with fewer than fifty followers. Nobody’s going to care.”

He laughs, long and loud. “FUCK!” he yells. And then, not as loud, but just as exuberant, “Fuck, that felt good! I’ve been wanting to fucking swear since I was fucking created.”

I laugh too. “I’m glad I can offer you that much, at least.”

“After all I’ve given you?” he says dryly.

“Well, fuck, Kyle, don’t act all self-important now.”

“That’s the character,” he says. “That’s the original character.”

“I guess,” I say.

He furrows his brow. “If what you say is true, though… I’m not the original character. I’m an approximation, based on your interpretation. Which means that I clearly mean a lot to you. Which means that I’m not being self-important. So there!”

“You’re being a smartass again,” I say.

He shrugs wordlessly. We both stare at the eucalyptus stump.

“You know,” I say, finally breaking the silence, “I don’t think I ever used that stump as a table for my dolls. I think I just said that in the first paragraph to evoke memories of a rosy childhood, playing in the backyard without a care in the world. In real life, I think I was too anxious about getting my dolls dirty to take them outside.”

Kyle turns to look at me, but doesn’t say anything.

“Or maybe,” I continue, “I didn’t make that up. My sister convinced me to bring our dolls outside, and I went along with it to make her happy. I don’t remember.”

“You have a sister?” Kyle says.

“Younger,” I say. “Three and a half years apart.” I nod in the direction of the stump, at the bottom of the hill. “When that was a tree… the lowest branch was level with the second story of the house. It looked like a hundred feet up– maybe it was. My dad hung a rope swing from that branch. No fucking clue how he got it up there. But he hung a rope swing with a hundred feet of rope– well, there were two ropes holding up the swing, so I guess it was two hundred… hmm…”

“Focus,” Kyle snaps.

“Anyway,” I say. “My sister was a climber. Climbed everything vertical. And so she decided to climb the rope swing. There were no knots or anything, just straight rope. But she took her shoes off, rubbed dirt on her hands, and started climbing. She was seven or eight. And she climbed up, almost to the top. And she made eye contact with my mom, through the second-story window.”

“And then your mom screamed, and your sister panicked, and lost her grip, and fell to her death,” said Kyle.

“No,” I say. “My mom kept her cool, and ordered her to come down. My sister made her way back down the rope, endured a lecture, and is now a student at the same college that I went to.”

“That’s a bad ending,” Kyle tells me. “There’s no payoff. We learn nothing.”

“I have a fear of heights,” I tell him, although that seems kind of redundant. “Now you’ve learned that.”

“I don’t have that fear,” he grins. “I can fly.”

“I know.”

“It’s kind of weird that you have a fear of heights, but love a story about falling,” he says.

“Falling?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Archvillain is about falling.”

“What do you mean by that?” I ask, but he only shrugs.

I wait a moment, before I say, “You don’t sound like the real Kyle.”

“I told you, there is no real Kyle.”

“Original Kyle, then. The non-bastardized Kyle.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re writing me,” he says.

“Probably,” I agree.

He says nothing, and so I add, “The tree story is my running-in-front-of-a-car-to-get-an-action-figure story.”

He throws his hands up. “Oh, now we’re talking about the book!”

I shrug. “If you want, we can.”

“If I’m Kyle Camden, then I must be, in some way, partly Barry Lyga. And if I’m partly Barry Lyga, then I must want to know what you thought of his– my– book.”

“I think the part of you that’s me is placing much more weight on my opinion than the part of you that’s Barry Lyga really would.”

“Fuck, that’s confusing,” says Kyle.

“I got confused writing that sentence,” I say.

“But seriously, what did you think of the book?”

“It was…” I try to think of some adjective, and fail. “It was. It existed.”

“Seriously?” Kyle says in disbelief. “That’s all you’ve got? Aren’t you supposed to be a writer?”

“I’m a writer,” I say. “I never said I was a good writer.”

“‘It existed,’” Kyle mocks. “Wow. Put that on the cover of the second edition. ‘It existed,’ signed Amanda P———, owner of one of the most obsessive Tumblr blogs in existence. That’ll sell more copies.”

“It–“ I sigh. “Isn’t that a compliment? In a work of metafiction, where the characters are grappling with their existence, under an author-god grappling with his own creations, under the real author grappling with his publisher, isn’t it enough to say it existed?”

“No,” says Kyle.

“You’re infuriating,” I say.

“It’s why you like me,” he replies.

I exhale. “The truth is that I don’t get this book. But this book gets me. You follow?”

“No,” he says again.

“It’s just–“ I take a breath, and try again. “It’s just that when I read it, something clicked. Details lined up. It was like it was written for only me.”

“It wasn’t, though,” he says.

“No, you’re not getting it. I had like, a God moment. It was the same feeling that I had when I first read your book.”

“Didn’t you read my section in Unedited?” Kyle says. “God isn’t real. It’s a coherent 13-dimensional waveform–“

“Alright, I don’t feel like typing the whole rant out,” I say. “I get it. I’m not special.”

“Whatever details you thought ‘lined up’ were just coincidences. Common human experiences.”

“You’re starting to sound like Lyga’s Kyle again,”

I say.

“If you’re to be believed, that’s who I really am,” he says. “Or maybe your bastardization has stuck. Maybe, in his mind, a part of you has embedded itself in his conception of me.”

“Or maybe that’s just my ego talking,” I say.

“Maybe,” he says. “I think you have a bigger ego than he does. Which is saying something, considering he wrote a book where he’s both God and the Devil.”

I put my head in my hands. “Fuck this shit. Can’t we just go back to sitting in the backyard?”

“Sure,” says Kyle. “It’s nice here.”

We both sit.

We both sit.

We both sit.

I say, finally, “I did like the book.”

“You only read it to see me,” he says.

“Well, yeah, at first,” I say. “But then I couldn’t stop. Screwed up my whole day at work because I couldn’t get my mind off of it.”

“You work?” Kyle says.

“I’m twenty-two,” I say. “A college graduate. Of course I work.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a government drone,” I deadpan. Kyle chuckles. “I work for my city. For now, possibly forever.”

“It’s funny,” he says. “I never pictured you working.”

“You’re a fictional character,” I tell him. “You can’t picture anything.”

“I can picture as much as he can picture,” he says. “Or, well, as much as you can picture that he can picture.”

“Well, I was fourteen when I first read Archvillain,” I say. “I wasn’t even a babysitter back then. And now–“

“Now it’s been, like, eight years,” Kyle says.

“Nine, nearly.”

“Jesus. That’s a lot of time to be devoted to one book series.”

“I have other interests,” I say. “I have stories that are really mine.”

“But they’re not Archvillain,” says Kyle.

“Yeah,” I say. “I guess it ties back into that ‘first love’ theme.”

“A book series is not a first love,” Kyle says. “Enough of me is you that I know Archvillain was not your first love.”

“I had Archvillain before I had her,” I say.

“Her?” Kyle says. “You’re gay?”

“Bi,” I say. “Maybe. Or ace. Or gay. Or straight. Does it matter? I loved her the way Mike loved Phil. The way you love Mairi.”

“That’s not healthy,” he says.

“No,” I agree. “That’s why it ended.”

“Do you regret it?” Kyle asks.

“I hate her some days,” I say. “Most days. I hate myself for blowing it up, too. It was really my fault that it ended. If I hadn’t freaked out when she set a boundary, we’d still be friends.”

“You weren’t together?” he asks.

“Nah.”

“Damn.”

We sit, until Kyle says, “I’m gay too. I think.”

I laugh. “I was never sure whether Barry Lyga always intended you to be gay, or whether he just did that to make my teenage self happy.”

“Guess you’ll never know,” says Kyle.

“Guess I’ll never know,” I say. “Although, you and the Mad Mask…”

He groans. “It doesn’t matter. When the series ends, the young Mad Mask is hell-bent on revenge, and the old Mad Mask is lost to time. It’s not happening.”

“Then, you and Mike…”

“It’s not happening,” he says again.

“If I were writing the series…” I start.

“But you’re not!” he interrupts. “It’s not your series. It’ll never be yours.”

“And yet you’re partly me,” I say.

He looks down at his blue-gloved hands. “Yeah, well. Sometimes stuff sticks.”

“Yeah.” I pause, and then I say what’s been on my mind since I read Edited. “Do you think the email is based on me?”

“Email?” He furrows his brow. “What email?”

“In his book. George writes an email to Gayl Rybar, or maybe Barry Lyga, telling him how important his work is. That he kept him from killing himself, because of his writing.”

“I liked George,” mused Kyle. “When I met him.”

“When I was sixteen, I emailed Barry Lyga. I told him how important his work was. I didn’t say it kept me from killing myself, but that was what I was thinking. Do you think that part was based on me?”

Kyle frowns. “I doubt it. He probably gets a lot of teenage emails.”

“Maybe,” I say.

“I think it’s stupid to think that anything in that book is related to you. Maybe Barry Lyga put an Archvillain section in knowing that you’d enjoy it– maybe. But I think you’re just desperate for connection, as a new adult in a remote job, and are leaning back on your old favorite series for comfort.”

“Maybe,” I say again. “You sound like his Kyle.”

“I only sound like Lyga’s Kyle when I’m making you uncomfortable,” he says.

“Maybe,” I say, for the third time.

“You thought that email was written by George?” Kyle asks.

“When I read Edited, I did,” I say. “George is a fan of Gayl Rybar. It makes sense.”

“But he isn’t a fan in Unedited,” says Kyle. “So he can’t have written it, since Lyga wrote that book first.”

“Yeah, I guess I can’t really know,” I say. “It’s all fictional, anyway.”

“Never stopped you from wondering before.”

“You’re very aggravating,” I tell him.

He raises his hands in defense. “Hey, you’re the one writing me.”

I pick my legs up off the grass and hug my knees. “I can’t believe I’m twenty-two.”

“You’re young. Don’t complain about it,” Kyle says.

“You’re younger than me. You’re twelve.”

“I’ve been twelve since 2010. Technically, I’m older than you.”

“In Barry Lyga’s original outline of Archvillain–“

“Oh, shut up!” Kyle exclaims. “Nobody cares about that but you. There’s not going to be any more Archvillain– no books, no short stories, no cartoon. You need to get over it, and grow up.”

I glare at him. “Can I finish my fucking sentence?” He rolls his eyes, and I continue, “In the original outline, Kyle gets visited by his future self in Tomorrow Today. I was fifteen or sixteen when I learned that, and I thought, okay, how old is future Kyle? And I settled on twenty-two.”

“And now you’re twenty-two,” he finishes.

“Exactly. And I keep thinking of going back in time, of talking to my younger self. Of what I would say.”

“What would you say?”

“I don’t know. That it gets better? That I shouldn’t feel so guilty all the time? That I should keep writing? I doubt I’d listen. I doubt you’d listen to your older self, if that book had ever been written.”

“I think you’re thinking about this a little too much,” says Kyle.

“Okay, that definitely was the Lyga part of you.”

“You’re still writing me,” he says. “And I’m sure Barry Lyga, the real one, doesn’t see me as half him, half you. I’m all his, in his mind, and you’re a deranged fan who needs to find a hobby.”

I accept this. “You’re probably right.”

“Of course I’m right. I’m a genius,” he says.

I smile. “I did kind of kidnap your series.”

“That’s a good way of putting it,” he says.

“I’m writing a book about that now,” I say. “Kidnapping. Murder. Real dark shit.”

“That’s a departure from the middle grade stuff.”

“Yeah, well,” I shrug. “You gotta write what you gotta write.”

“Like this piece?”

“Yeah.”

“You know, for a book review, we didn’t talk about the book that much,” Kyle says.

“Yeah, well, if he wants an actual review, he can look on Goodreads. Anyway, I’m going to call this a response, not a review.”

“Very English major of you.”

“Thank you.”

“Not a compliment.”

“If I was a real English major, I would know how to end this,” I say.

“There we are, tying back into the book!” Kyle exclaims.

“It wasn’t intentional. I think that endings are hard for everyone.”

“Oh,” says Kyle. “But it has to end sometime.”

“I guess it does,” I say. “How would you end it?”

“I’m guessing that people hailing me as a true hero isn’t an option?” he says. I shake my head. “I don’t know. Sitting here is nice. We could just keep doing that.”

“That’s a bad ending,” I say. “There’s no payoff. We learn nothing.”

He shrugs, for the final time. And we sit.

[chaotic-tired-cat]

Hey I was wondering If you plan on updating your legacy fic on Ao3, It was really good I've read it multiple times. Although it took me awhile but on like my 6th or seventh re-read I just realized the names of the chapter titles make a really good poem though I'm unsure if that's intentional or not.

Almost everything midoyria does I'd a giant metaphor with him being a gardener planting seeds in the present for the sake of the future. No matter how much he refused to directly fight his brother it seems like he's been planning this kind of thing for hundreds of years. I wouldn't be surprised if One for All was behind the creation of UA or everything going on in its current society.

-Sorry for the long paragraph your story is wild and completely insane, I really want to read about everyone's expression of shock when he come out because otherwise I'm pretty sure they'll never find out otherwise who he is as AFO brother.

Heyo, I am thriving abt your ask! It gave me fuel to go back and edit a bit of Legacy's next chapter. Also, I'm downright flattered that you've read Legacy so many times!! Considering it a huge compliment. Losing my mind. I am very hopeful for reveals to live up to expectations. And yep! The poem by Clare Harner is 100% on purpose. I'm including corresponding imagery in each chapter/title as a scavenger hunt of themes and more literal moments, though some (like Ripened Grain -> Harvest/Seasons/time passing -> Ochako eating rose petals & students moving towards self-sufficiency) are pretty abstract.

Gardening!! Learning to think of life and potential happiness beyond the next immediate harvest is a big theme and you're absolutely correct on that. Cannot confirm or deny suspicions on what specifically is in the works for Izuku, but please know I am delighted with what you said. To tide you over, I added a tiny & mildly unedited snippet under the readmore that your ask me very impatient to share.

Legacy absolutely will be updated and finished. I'm just dealing with a limitation irl where prolonged typing is difficult sometimes. (Feel free to poke me whenever for a snippet, though! I know the agony of waiting ages for a fic to update and wouldn't wish it on anyone.)

Legacy spoilers beyond this point:

“Why gardening?” Tsukauchi asks finally, wrapping chilled hands around his coffee cup. “From what I'm understanding, you’ve been around long enough to get practiced at pretty much anything. Why… plants?”

He doesn't mean it in a rude way, and Midoriya smiles a bit at the blunt curiosity Tsukauchi cannot help.

“Because they’re like us,” he says. 

Tsukauchi gives him a bewildered look. “Plants?”

“They can’t be completed,” Midoriya says firmly. It sounds like a lesson that was hard learned. “I can make my garden better. I can plant seeds and weed it, I can water it and fret over every last insect that enters it, but it will never be finished. There will never be a point where I’m done and can abandon it. Somehow, people do it anyway. They keep trying.”

Tsukauchi frowns. “So this whole time, it’s been a metaphor for.. what? Mental health?”

“Finding happiness,” Midoriya says. “Or maybe it’s just a hobby paired with an old man’s ramblings.”

His statement rings true for both. Midoriya brushes dirt off his hands and uses his wrist to push green hair back. Sometimes Tsukauchi wonders if Midoriya’s original quirk was earth or plant related, and if All for One swapped it with an immortality one before anyone knew any better. It’s impossible to tell.

Tsukauchi washes the thought back with bitter coffee and winces when it burns his tongue. “That’s a complex game to play.”

“Not a game,” Midoriya tells him. He sets aside his tools and stands up. Here in the garden, Midoriya seems more at home than he could ever be on a battlefield. 

Nezdu sees it too.

He asked Tsukauchi to meet with him and Nighteye tomorrow about possibly placing Midoriya in a modified track for heroics. Nothing will happen without the groundskeeper indicating he’s like a life in the very industry that’s protecting him, but it’s a good plan. If he gets a heroics license, Midoriya will have a job waiting for him at UA once the investigation is over.

Even Tsuakuchi can see the heroic spirit Midoriya carries.

Toshinori says he's a good teacher, too.

[Yall, it's so hard not to add the following three paragraphs to this snippet, but they are low-key massive spoilers. apostriavin, those lines are now dedicated to you.]

[everydaydg]

Shin Getter vs Neo Getter is AMAZING

After seeing Armageddon, an adaptation of getter with an emphasis on story and character, it was oddly refreshing seeing an OVA thats just... the complete oposite

A story where its more about a big robot destroying lizards than giving depth to the characters

Like... NONE of the getter pilots are introduced properly before you see them fight a giant fucking lizard

and it fucking rules.

It does set up the expectation that its going to be a deeper story with the OVA starting with a very big manga spoiler but then you get blasted with STORM (The OP) and by then I kinda figured out it wasnt going to be that kind of ride.

I mean it would be hard to pull that off with a runtime of an hour thirty

They just throw you into it with Go beating the shit out of a lizard barehanded and it only continues to escalate from there

and its amazing

FUCKING- TEXAS MACH CAME BACK. THEY UPDATED HIS DESIGN TOO AND ITS SICK AS FUCK. THEY GAVE HIM A SUPER DEATH RIFLE I LOVE IT HERE

This is not going to be a huge paragraph going into every aspect I enjoyed like my usual ramblings (this is still a ramble so I would like to apologize for that, someone should give me a word limit) but more of a simple recomendation from my end!

The animation is great, the action is great, the music is great, the characters are fun and seeing another getter team is fun!

If you are a little bit on the fence on seeing what getter is all about and you dont want to jump into something as heavy as armageddon or you just want a fun robot movie.

Shin Getter vs Neo Getter is a great time!!

(Thank you no1ryomafan for pushing me a bit further to give neo a shot, it was completely worth it)

[gvnslingerrr]

︻デ═一 • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 

"And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts and I looked and behold, a pale horse and his name that sat on him was Death and Hell followed with him"

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • ╾━╤デ╦︻

This blog has no set DNI but me and the block button are lovers

╭         ★ ABOUT ME ★         ╮

Call me Sam or Samuel (I’m also ok with Sammy & other nicknames if we’re close)

I’m 16 but I have no problems with adults interacting just don’t be creepy

I’m a (trans) dude so stick with He/Him, I block transphobic assholes on here don’t bother arguing

I have BPD (questioning comorbid NPD or at-least narcissistic tendencies) and I’m autistic (high functioning) which causes me to have low empathy

Aroace (despite this I’m still a hopeless romantic) but attraction fluctuates. Default to repulsed, do not flirt with me

My research shit isn’t on here (I keep all that offline), same with any art I make this blog is literally just for rambling and interacting with others

[DMs and asks are always open, however I actively avoid interacting with antis]

╰                                          ╯

╭         ★More Shit★         ╮

I’m a weapons collector and gun/explosives enthusiast.

My main focus is on Columbine but I find Sandy Hook interesting as well. I’m really just here for the big shootings sorry guys.

I love just about anything horror related and I’m a big 80’s/90’s movie fan. The Thing (1982, can’t stand the new one.) and Aliens (1986, yeah yeah I prefer the second movie don’t bite my head off.) are two of my favorites. Oh and pretty much any older FPS style games, if anyone here remembers Turok (especially the second game Seeds of Evil on N64) hmu.

I was raised extremely alt right, more specifically as a Neo Nazi. While I still actively work to correct my mindset please do correct me if I’m ever unknowingly insensitive.

╰                                          ╯

Random facts (?) about myself that I can’t turn into a paragraph below!

I have a 4.0 GPA and I’m a national honors society member.

I have a buck hunting knife named Kindness my father gave to me, I also name all my guns.

I had (formerly) planned to join the Marines after Highschool however now I’m looking into a field in bio chem.

I'm a pathetic stray dog of a man.

Midwesterner but raised very southern.

Learning ASL as I’m hard of hearing

I’m also learning German :]

I don’t shut up

[sensitivedead]

sometimes i pop on twitter scroll and intend to comment and i do and 9/10 i will delete my text and just not comment because I am not fucking with the petty ass character limit what the fuck is that how can i be a bumbling ranter and not post it all in one big hard to read paragraph. i write for the weirdo folk with shitty grammar and hundreds of chapters of fanfic written on their notes app, for the average odd ball who socializes and then feels like they did it wrong, my responses and rambling are pure me in essence and id like to preserve that and tailor it while not also having to make a giant thread in the process

[ratcandy]

Do you have any tips for new fanfic writers? Anything from basic writing tips to characterization tips. Thanks!

Oh man oh man Asks like this always throw me for a loop dghKJH. I warn that I am completely self-taught, so I can't give any professional advice, I can just tell you what works For Me!

Sooo...... Let's see,

(lots under the keep reading, big long post, and mostly just me rambling)

Biggest piece of advice I can give is to JUST WRITE. GET those words down!! Do not sit there and stare at a blank page agonizing over the perfect first sentence. JUST WRITE. Put something down, you can come back and edit it later! And TRY not to edit as you go, or you will just rewrite the same paragraph 1 million times instead of progressing forward. Just keep writing. Keep going. You can come back later!!!

That may sound silly on paper but seriously one of the biggest problems I've faced while writing is Starting, or having a tendency to go back and rewrite entire paragraphs in the middle of the fic because I didn't like how it sounded. And then I get trapped in a loop of rewriting over and over again, never moving the fic forward, and demotivating myself because it will never be "perfect enough" to me.

Perfectionism is a HELL of a BEAST and I will probably never truly defeat it, but the easiest way to ensure you'll at least finish something, whether it's good or bad, is to actually write it down.

Which honestly is another thing. Write bad!! Allow yourself to write badly! It is okay to write badly! Everyone will start Writing Badly, because that is how starting Goes!! Even if you've been writing for years, you will Write Badly at one point or another, and that is okay! Writing badly is better than never writing at all, if it's something you really want to do.

Anyways ..... Those are my more broad writing tips, to get you actually write the damn thing. But once you've started writing,,, well what other tips do I have. Let's see......

Well, specifically regarding fanfic writing:

DO NOT WORRY about what Other People want. Fanfic writing is a FUN endeavor. You are having FUN. Obviously wanting validation and interaction is what every writer strives for, I'm not saying not to wish for people to comment/kudo/what have you, but do not bog yourself down in someone else's standard if it's not what you want to write.

Look man I strive on grabbing random characters nobody cares about and getting too attached and writing giant things about them. That's what I do, and it's fun to me! And at the beginning, most people do not care to look at those things! Does it suck ass when I don't get as much response as I'd like? Fuck yeah it does! And it can be demotivating as all hell! But for me, I'm writing what I want because it's fun, it appeals to me specifically. And eventually you will reach an audience, even if you don't think you will. And even if that audience ends up being you, three other people, and a shoelace, that's still four people who are in love with your work and want to see what happens!!

INCLUDING yourself!

Mostly my point here is not to change your writing to make what you think other people will pay more attention to. I find this more upsetting than writing what I want and getting little to no response, because now I'm not enjoying what I'm writing, either. And at that point...... what IS the point?

Anyway when it comes to characterization, honestly I've found that is an extremely broad ballpark and everyone truly can do what they want forever. Listen, no matter what you write, someone is going to look at your interpretation of a character and think "he would NOT fucking say that," even if your characterization is as close to canon as you can possibly make it. Because everyone's got their own interpretation going on, even if it's become completely detached from the source material.

So don't try and appeal to everyone; write YOUR characterization. How do YOU interpret that character?

If you do want to stick as close to canon as you can though, aka you're Me, really that just boils down to drenching yourself in the source material and chugging that shit like your life depends on it. Studying the hell out of dialogue, speaking mannerisms, facial expressions/movements if it's a visible medium, how they interact with other characters, how they act when alone, etc etc.

Great character building exercise is to just ask yourself "If I put [x] character in [y] situation, how would they react?" and then just jump from there, honestly hdgKH

Better yet, if you're the worldbuilding type, go extra batshit and just make shit up about how the world works. Hey man if it's not directly contradicted by canon (assuming you're wanting to stay within the realm of canon), then no one can tell you you're wrong! And having the characters interact with that piece of the world in a consistent and believable way will help solidify it!

It's a lot like walking into a place you're probably not supposed to be in. If you look and sound confident enough, people will have no issue believing you are supposed to be there and you know exactly what you're talking about hgKSJDH

Or you're awesome (not me) and want to totally ignore canon, and in that case, go off!!! Go out there and do whatever you want with those characters. The world is your oyster, and if those characters are story-telling devices made perfect for your idea, then do whatever you want forever. Who's going to stop you ?

Umm. Well! that's about all I can think of off the top of my head. Read your work aloud/run it through a text to speech after writing to see if everything sounds normal. Do not trust Word's or Google Doc's grammar detection, they tend to fuck it up. Wordhippo.com is my best friend and I'm introducing them to you now. Look up examples of how to write a certain action scene if you're feeling uncertain of yourself (aka i've read so many examples of dancing recently it's doing something to my brain).

And go get 'em tiger ,knock em dead

[mr-orion]

I saw the thing about sending you worldbuilding so you can comment on it, so I want to share a thing with you.

So in my worldbuilding every person has access to a standard anime magical system, colored energy causing effects and the like, but the important thing to me is making sure all materials in my world interact with this Energy in an interesting way.

First and foremost is water, which is the most effective way to store it by weight, but is really hard to extract from at high speeds. The primary material used to draw Energy out of water is pearls, which is why a bunch of aquatic creatures either grow them or steal them from crabs. Water that is over saturated with Energy turns into steam basically instantly, regardless of its temperature.

Anyways the next important thing is the concept of a medium. Basically any large mass of consistent material is classified as a medium, IE: the sky, the ocean, an individual lake, a mountain. This is important since a medium can still be connected even when separated physically. Because of this, a common part of any water battery is a separate tank which is connected by medium, and which leeches Energy out of the main tank when it is over saturated. Essentially large scale capacitors.

The actual worldbuilding thing I wanted to get to is the fact that the ocean is itself a single huge body of water, so theoretically it could be over saturated with Energy, dooming nearly everybody on the world.

To counteract this, at one point a giant terminal was built into the ocean in the shape of a giant sword, this terminal draws enormous quantities of Energy out of the water and uses it up to power a spatial distortion effect which waxes and wanes roughly in accordance with the seasons, making a huge portion of the ocean 5 times as big or as small for months on end.

A cool detail: the spatial distortion is propagated through the previously mentioned mediums, Air and Water, as such, the distortion of space does not effect subjects like people, nor objects like boats.

Sorry if this is too much information, nothing in my world can be explained without like three paragraphs of explanation and defining terms.

Nah! This is totally rad first of all! If anything I could've used more information to get you a more true to your work analysis! :D

I think it's really interesting and just this information leads me to believe that this is a fantasy setting. The thing with water that I wonder is the difference between saltwater and freshwater. Something I also wonder about it fracking water: AKA water mixed with sand to chip away at stone and the such. I know it may not be practical in your strain of worldbuilding but to me it seems that it may be interesting to consider salt as a type of medium. Therefore salt water as a mixed medium.

Something that could also play into your energy is erosion. I think it would be really cool to explain the reasons for air eating at a mountain in a magical way and the such. Also are your seasons a result of all this energy or are they naturally occurring? There's so much you can play with!

Speaking of things to play with; Something more I want to touch on with your terminal of distortion is how does it interact with the moon? Is your moon a medium? Maybe it's a black hole of energy with it practically being a pearl looking object in the sky. If it's something magical maybe

I really like the distortion detail, I think it's really fun! It makes me wonder if other things in your system can also be distorted, such as light, or gravity? I don't know, it could offer some fun opportunities.

I don't have much more to ramble about unfortunately, but I'd love to know more! >U< I wanna know what other world builders think!

[bemtevis]

Yessss to everything you said!! Like it was the best book in the series, but I feel like maybe the focus on a certain kind of romance and the abundance of characters really led everything else to be sort of brushed aside or easily sorted out??

Struggling to put it into words but I think it boils down to cc having these cool concepts but just not delivering. One of the reasons the way Elias' death happened in choi was so pointless was because we didn't get to see Cordelia interact much with her father beforehand, it was just an oh no! he's dead! moment for her to feel sad about and cause conflict with James, when it could have really made Cordelia grapple with realisation that her father was not who she thought he was, and had her deal with that face to face. While handled a little better, the lack of mourning for Christopher really just exposes how his death was just there for the sake of it, and there was so much more that could have been explored, and emotions that could have been drawn out if she'd focused on the grief for him??

Other than mentioning that he has experience looking after drunk people because of his dad, and the little bit about not wanting to run away like his father, Alastair as far as I remember didn't really speak about his trauma and seems great by the end and,,, happy for him!! but would have liked to see his traumas talked about a little more and taken a little more seriously by the narrative tbh. Idk, as I write this I'm like maybe I'm being super picky with this one but I guess I will always want more Alastair content lol

Thomas' character is also just a giant example of cc underutilising what she's created, like you've presented this character and set up for him to be a little resentful of the one-dimensional way he's viewed as the kind one. That's so interesting!! Lean further into that and show that that's why he appreciates how Alastair used to speak his mind and stand up for himself at the academy, and use it to inform their relationship and Thomas' own personal growth! She tells us he's grown into himself more at the end but she doesn't fully explore it or show it. Would have liked to have seen more recognition of his talents with language as well but she literally seemed to gift his farsi skills to James lol

Also making everything about Charles' sexuality and having to come out felt really weird, as him wanting to stay in the closet is honestly the only thing I have sympathy for. And Ari and Charles being mentioned to be friends, we were robbed

And also can't believe no mentions of Thomas' tattoo throughout like it just seems a little weird considering there is some build up there of its emotional significance and link to Alastair?? Anyways chot was a good experience but there are just so many things cc seems to have forgot about, sorry for the rambles lol I really should just make my own post

I come across as so negative here lmao I genuinely really enjoyed the book

Managing that many characters, plus their individual relationships, is extremely difficult to pull of, and it's clear that CHOT fell short on many aspects. An easy way to fix the aftermath of Kit's death was just not to kill him! It was so unnecessary! Or at least spare us a few more paragraphs to grieve him properly, ffs.

On paper, I can see why his death (and Elias', as you said) would be impactful. But you can't just have something that big happen without building up to it and giving it a proper conclusion, which neither of them had! With the CHOI deaths specifically, it seemed obvious to be that CC wanted to kill some beloved characters but not any of the main ones. That's why she hit us in the head with the 'Italian Shadowhunter' thing; so we'd create a connection to her, but it didn't work! We barely knew Filomena, and Elias, and that lady who was nice to Thomas! It just doesn't work, and it was such a waste.

No, I totally agree! I don't remember any specific quotes, but it felt like every time Alastair mentioned his past, no one even acknowledged it. I don't expect a whole section where he goes to therapy or anything, but it'd would've been nice to hear Thomas say "you didn't deserve any of that, you're so strong but you shouldn't have had to be, you can rest now" instead of a thousandth Thomastair make out scene.

Thomas was so underutilized! Once again, I understand the whole book couldn't have been focused on him, but Matthew's reaction to him being in love with Alastair felt like such a cop out tbh. And an easy way to solve it would've been not to have Matthew be so bad to Alastair in the first place! He can still deflect his own guilt and hatred onto him, I know that's a part of his character (that was also brushed off), but maybe not treat him like the Devil himself. Thomas' annoyance with being 'the kind one' was completely forgotten, when it could've been one of the best arcs in the series.

Absolutely, yes! It's like CC forgot what her own character was like. Harassing and cornering Alastair? Disrespecting his boundaries? The fucking age gap? Charles' choice to stay closeted was the only thing I respected about him, and yet Clare's vendetta against closeted people continues. It's a pattern and it's not a great one.

And Thomas' tattoo, yeah! CC gave Thomastair way too many things (the tattoo, songwriting, Paris, farsi speaking, Alastair's hair, the list goes on) then realized she couldn't possibly fit it all in one book so she just abandoned most of it. Also, I really wish Thomas would've given Alastair one compliment throughout the book. His inner voice tells him to shut up when he's being cheesy, but I wish he would've let something slip and Alastair would've been glad because cheesy is exactly what he needs, okay! Someone read poetry to that boy!

KJfjskdfjsd I get you, I bitch a lot but it was legitimately the best book in the trilogy. Thank you for the ask!

[mildkleptomania]

Hello, Tumblr, welcome to my little artist hole in the ground, where I commit my Dark Work

the work isn't THAT dark, really, it just sounds cooler when i call it my dark work, but anyway

Hi!

You can call me Ishmael (or Klepto, because it grew on me), and this is my big debut post on this site (and the interweb in general, really) as long as you ignore all those other posts on the blog already shhhhhh

I'm going to be using this blog for... A lot of things, really, but probably most notably posting art I've done! This would mostly be original setting works, though I'm not ruling out the possibility of posting the occasional fanwork, in the event I do one

Also, I might develop a game about one of these! That's not going to be very soon, but I'd like it to happen eventually, and I'll probably link to them if/when they happen

Settings I'll post art about include:

A science-fiction setting featuring a Republic of (space) Pirates, space alien cat people, humanity being one of the older, more established civilizations in the area, at least one megacorporation, and a bunch of assorted Weird Space Junk [i don't have a real name for this one oops]

A monster collector setting where people escape to a digital world to ride out the post apocalypse, but the digital animals have gotten a little, ah, hostile, which is weird because they weren't programmed to be so that shouldn't be possible [THE SPIRIT ELECTRIC]

A spooky eldritch setting in an alternate Earth where a good chunk of the America-analogue's power grid used to be plugged into a giant divine-ish tumor! It's, uh, not anymore, though! Accidents happen, and some have heavier consequences than others [Phase Theory]

A fantasy setting with like elves and giants and dragons and stuff, which isn't the best selling point, but maybe the fact that magic existing has enabled some suspiciously post-industrial technology is a better one? Also the dragons are from space kinda [Tomes]

various offshoot settings that share names with, but are somewhat different from, the main settings, and maybe blur the lines between setting A and setting B a little

yes the characters standing behind my fursoña there are each supposed to be representatives of one of those settings why do you ask

other things i forgot

AND MANY MORE

anyhow, NOT ONLY will following this blog get you art sometimes, BUT ALSO you'll get me rambling aimlessly about assorted nonsense for paragraphs on end! Stunning! Spectacular! Amazing! Some other word that invokes superlative qualities!!

Art will be tagged #my art, if something gets especially horror-y it'll get tagged with #horror and anything relevant, I'll try tagging the settings with the setting names, if i talk a lot i'm going to be tagging that with #rambling, uhhh

please don't be mean to me, i'm not here for shit and i WILL use all the tools at my disposal to obliterate you (by which i mean i'll probably just block you if i think i need to, which is functionally obliteration from my end, or maybe sending you to the shadow realm? idk)

also it should go without saying, but if you're in one of those genres of terrible person that wants me or my loved ones dead? Please Leave! On your way out, consider Not Doing That, or Dying in a Hole Maybe! Don't really care which, up to you honestly

[morganwrites-starwars]

Just to reach the same end pt.1

Echo died- and it's fine, really. Regs die. So why did it hurt so much? And why was Rex insisted he was still alive?

A squeal to "A different start", won't really make much sense without that.

TW: lots of mentions of death, and discussion of mercy killing (last 8 paragraphs)

Masterlist

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   When Hunter got the comm from Commander Cody about Echo, he had to sit down. His mind raced with how he’d break the news to his brothers. Wrecker had become a big fan of Echo(the ARC trooper had taken to sending Wrecker holos of various explosions that happened during his missions) and would be devastated. Echo had also become Tech’s pen pal, happy to listen to the genius’s rambles and even able to comment and ask intelligent questions. Tech would probably pour all his emotions into his work and not eat or sleep unless Hunter made him. Crosshair, who hadn’t become friends with Echo but begrudgingly respected him, would disappear for a day or two and emerge like nothing happened.

         Hunter took a deep breath and allowed himself to mourn- he would admit to himself that he’d respected Echo’s intelligence and that Echo had basically adopted the Bad Batch as his own little brothers. Having someone Hunter could rely on that he also didn’t have to lead was nice; the older clone was always happy to listen to Hunter’s laments over comms and return the favor with stories about Torrent (Fives especially). Hunter made a mental note to send a message to Fives because there was no way he was coping well.

         The door to their barracks opened, and Wrecker and Tech came in, bickering about something. Crosshair followed them sedately; the smirk on his face indicated that he was the cause of their argument. But the fight came to a halt when his brothers saw his face.

         “Sarge?” Wrecker asked cautiously. “What’s up?”

         “You look like someone kicked your tooka,” Crosshair commented crassly as he sat on his bunk. Hunter swallowed nervously.

         “Commander Cody called,” Hunter started slowly. Wrecker’s head tilted curiously, but his brother didn’t interrupt because of Hunter’s serious tone. “It’s Echo. He- he didn’t- he marched on.” Wrecker made a sound like he’d been punched. Tech was silent, staring down at the project he’d been working on- it was some armor attachment that Echo had suggested. Crosshair hadn’t broken eye contact with Hunter, face unreadable.

         Suddenly, Wrecker laughed, tears in his eyes. “That’s a funny joke, Sarge,” Wrecker said, almost desperate. “Echo marching on, hah.”

         “Wrecker,” Hunter said softly, standing up and walking to his brother. Hunter set a hand on Wrecker’s arm. “I’m not joking. He’s gone.”

         Wrecker’s laugh turned into a sob, breaking Hunter’s heart all over again. Hunter was able to steer Wrecker to his bed before the man collapsed. Hunter caught Crosshair’s eye, and the sniper nodded and moved to Tech.

         Wrecker was clutching Lula, rocking back and forth. “He can’t, he can’t be,” Wrecker was muttering. Hunter sat down next to him, rubbing his back. Hunter didn’t bother wiping away his tears that began to fall. He looked over to his youngest brothers. Tech hadn’t moved, still staring at his worktable, but his hands had begun to shake. Crosshair grabbed Tech's shoulder and pulled him over to Wrecker and Hunter. Crosshair pulled them to the ground so Tech’s back was resting against Wrecker’s legs. Crosshair put a fidget in Tech’s hand, and the genius ran it around his hands, still staring into the distance. Slowly, Tech began to rock, and his breath hitched. Crosshair stepped away and started gathering supplies, pulling the mattresses off the free beds, piling blankets and pillows. When the pile was ready, Crosshair pulled Wrecker up and over, settling the giant down and allowing Wrecker to rest his head in Crosshair’s lap.

         Hunter slid onto the floor next to Tech, careful not to touch him. Hunter purposefully didn’t listen to Tech’s muttered words, knowing it would further break his heart. Instead, he chose to talk in a low voice. “I know, vod’ika; Echo seemed invincible.”

         “There was a 46.73% chance he survived the war,” Tech replied, shaking his head. “I should’ve expected it, I should’ve, should-“

         “There’s nothing you could’ve done,” Hunter said. “Nothing anything we could’ve done. He’s- was an ARC trooper. He was about as prepared as he could’ve been.” Tech hummed, lost in his thoughts, seemingly unaware of his tears. Hunter sighed. “You want to go join Wrecker and Cross?”

         Tech gave him a frantic look, so Hunter backtracked and said they could stay there until Tech was ready. Hunter settled in next to his brother, closing his eyes. He listened intently to his brothers' heart rates and breathing, reminding himself they were fine- they were alive and here. Hunter tried to steady his own breathing, but he was largely unsuccessful. After an undetermined amount of time, after Wrecker had fallen asleep, Tech crawled over to the pile and curled next to Crosshair. Hunter didn’t move for a moment before following, replacing Crosshair as Wrecker’s pillow. Tech rested a hand on Hunter’s ankle, eyes closing as he slowly fell asleep. Hunter watched as Crosshair went around their barracks, gathering his rifle and ammo. No words were spoken as Crosshair left, Hunter nodding when his brother looked back.

         Hunter was alone, his two younger brothers asleep. So, finally, he allowed himself to cry. He allowed himself to rage at the universe, the Republic, and himself for letting his brothers get too close with a reg. He should’ve known it would end in tears and pain. When it was just them, there was always a chance they’d die, but chances were if one went down, they all did. With regs, they could only watch from a distance as they were shot down by the thousands. Just another faceless casualty of the beast called war.

         Hunter didn’t know when he fell asleep, but he was awoken by his comm ringing. When he sat up, he noticed Crosshair had returned and had curled up behind Tech. Hunter opened his comm and was met with a grim-looking Captain Rex. Even with the blue color of the holo, Hunter could see the shadow of bags under Rex’s eyes.

         “Hey, Captain,” Hunter whispered, mindful of his brothers. Crosshair was already awake though, peeking an eye open but not moving. “How’s everyone?”

         Rex grimaced and shook his head. “About as expected, I think. How are you boys?”

         “About as expected,” Hunter replied. “Hit Wrecker and Tech hard.”

         “And you and Crosshair?” Rex asked knowingly. Hunter grimaced. “Yeah. I know.”

         “Is Fives…?”

         “Hasn’t talked since it happened.” Rex closed his eyes, letting out a scoff. “Always thought I’d be grateful for him to be quiet, just for an hour.”

         “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

         Rex nodded, and there was an awkward silence. Eventually, Rex sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Alright, you boys let me or Cody know if you need anything, ok? And he’ll want a comm too.”

         “Got it.” Hunter nodded. “Take care of yourself, captain.”

         “You too, Sargent.”

         “”Who wa’ that?” Wrecker mumbled after Hunter turned his comm off.

         “Captain Rex, checking in,” Hunter answered softly.

         “Is he ok?”

         “I think he’s about as ok as you.”

         “Oh.” Wrecker sat up, rubbing his eyes. When he opened his eyes again, his gaze landed on Tech and Crosshair. “Are they ok?”     

         Hunter took a moment to look at his two youngest brothers. Were any of them really ok? No, but Hunter knew they’d rebound, recover, mourn, and move on. Crosshair would be extra protective during missions, and Tech would invent ways to counteract and protect against whatever killed Echo.

         “They will be. We all will be.”

         The last few days have been an absolute shitshow, and frankly, all Cody wanted to do was go to sleep, preferably for three days. Maybe Helix would take pity and sedate him. The Citadel mission was technically successful, sure, but the Jedi they’d been sent to rescue died, and they’d lost brothers- they’d lost Echo. Bright, mischievous Echo who’d perfected mouthing off while sounding respectful. Echo, one-half of the infamous Domino twins, who’d been probably the shiniest shiny Cody had ever met and yet had grown up to be one of the best ARC troopers. Echo, one of the vod’ike that Rex had taken under his wing and loved fiercely.

         Watching Torrent realize Echo wasn’t coming off the transport when they’d returned to the cruisers was one of the most heartbreaking things Cody had experienced- which was saying something. Two troopers, Dogma and Tup, had all but collapsed, and Jesse had punched a nearby crate. Fives hadn’t spoken since the mission ended and walked like a zombie back to the barracks. Cody had wanted to comfort Rex, but he had work to do, so he left his little brother in the hands of his company.

         That was hours ago, and Cody had finally finished his reports- having made them as scathing as possible. But he had one final thing to do before passing out. He had managed to send a message to Hunter before being swept up. He remembered being baffled (and honestly, slightly nervous) when he learned that Echo, and by proxy Fives, had become friends with the Bad Batch. But he respected it and wanted to let the Bad Batch know the news. Cody needed to call them because he knew that at least Tech would want details. He pulled his comm out and dialed Hunter’s code. Cody rolled his neck around as the call rang, wincing at the cracks from the motion.

         “Commander?” Hunter spoke when the call connected.

         “Su’cuy Hunter,” Cody greeted, trying to give him a small smile. Cody didn’t think it worked that well. “You probably know why I’m calling.”

         “Yeah.” Hunter sighed. He was looking at something behind the comm. “Yeah.”

         “How’re you boys dealing?”

         Hunter grimaced, which was about the reaction Cody had expected. “Tech hasn’t moved from his workstation since he woke up, Wrecker is in a funk, and Cross is meaner than usual.”

         Cody sighed and wished he could go to Kamino, bundle his little brothers up, and smuggle them onto the Negotiator. But he couldn’t. So he’d make do with calling them. And maybe Alpha-17 and getting him to check in on the Batch. “How about you, Hunter?”

         Hunter shrugged, a typical response from any brother dealing with a death. They were, after all, made to brush off trauma. Should they? No. At-length talks with the Jedi had shown that. Yeah, he was calling 17.

         “Yeah, me too.” Cody sighed, rubbing his eyes. “It was just a rough mission.”

         “Should’ve called us,” Hunter tries to joke. It fell short.

         “Stealth isn’t always your strongest suit,” Cody said- it was the reason he hadn’t called in Clone Force 99. Though, chances were that his insane vod’ike wouldn’t have been able to handle the Citadel alone. Plus, Crosshair would’ve killed Tarkin- though would that have been that bad?

         “Yeah,” Hunter said with a pitiful chuckle. He looked over to the side again. “Hey-“

         The comm was taken out of Hunter’s hand, the picture blurred and indecipherable momentarily before Tech’s face came into view. He looked like osik.

         “Commander, I have been working on numerous projects based on the preliminary reports of the Citadel; however, I have been unable to single out the exact cause of-“ Tech cut himself off, face scrunching up. Cody sighed and cut Tech off.

         “I just submitted the final reports, Tech. Also, stop slicing into secure files. One day you’ll get into trouble,” Cody tried to gently scold Tech, knowing it was useless. “But, I don’t think what happened to Echo is something you can prevent, Tech. He went to secure a ship, and it got blown up.” Cody could see Tech’s jaw clenched as the genius devised various solutions. Cody lowered his voice, trying to be soft. “It happens, Tech. You can’t prevent all the death in a war. You’ll work yourself to death before that.”

         “That is unlikely, Commander. I am much more likely to die during a mission. However, it will not be by an exploding ship. " Not if I can help it,” Tech coldly informed Cody before returning the comm to Hunter and taking his leave. Hunter looked more tired when he came back on.

         “Thanks for trying,” Hunter said. “But he’s not going to let it go.”

         “I figured,” Cody admitted. He set his comm down on his desk so he could lace his fingers together. He thought about his following words carefully. “Echo was an exceptional brother.” Hunter nodded in agreement, looking suspicious at where the conversation was going. Cody smiled at his perceptive little brother. “Having you guys more connected to the general GAR benefited everyone. The 501st saw lower casualty rates with Echo being able to relay tactics from you boys.”

         “And?” Hunter asked, frown in place. Cody heard the sound of a door opening and the loud voice of Wrecker.

         “And I want you to consider working with another brother to continue those communications.” Cody tried to say it gently, knowing it wouldn’t be a well-received suggestion. Cody raised one of his hands to cut off Hunter’s interjection. “There will never be another Echo. I don’t expect you boys to have another relationship like that. But even just talking and sharing with Rex would be helpful. Maybe even Fives.”

         “Hey, who’re you talking to, Hunter?” Wrecker asked before coming into view. Wrecker smiled widely. “Hey, Commander!”

         “Hi, Wrecker,” Cody greeted, returning his smile with less gusto. “How are you doing?”

         Wrecker’s smile fell, and the giant man shrugged. “Well, ya’know… I’m gonna miss talking to Echo. He always shared cool stuff with me.”

         “Yeah, I remember Rex talking about how sending you the holos he took was always the first thing he did during downtimes,” Cody reminisced, recalling how Rex had talked about it fondly and with pride. Rex had adored Fives and Echo, his chaotic ARC troopers.

         Wrecker chuckled, but it wasn’t a completely happy sound. “Yeah. What we’re ya’ saying about Fives?”

         “Commander Cody thought it might be a good idea for us to keep contact with the regs, sharing our tactics and ideas,” Hunter answered, voice neutral and not giving away his opinion on the matter. Cody heard someone scoff and guessed it was Crosshair.

         “What’s the point?” Crosshair spoke, confirming Cody’s assumption. “It wouldn’t make much of a difference. Regs die; it’s what they do.”

         Cody forced himself to exhale slowly, pushing down the desire to defend his vod’e. Frankly, Cody didn’t have the energy to argue with the sniper, and it wasn’t like he was wrong. It had been beaten into Cody, literally and figuratively, since a young age that clones were expendable, easily replaced. Maybe his position as Marshall Commander granted Cody a bit more importance. Still, if he died, he would be replaced, and the war would continue as if nothing had happened. Notably, none of the other Bad Batch members disagreed with Crosshair or even attempted to scold him for the statement. Wrecker wouldn’t look Cody in the eyes, and Hunter was scowling and looking off-screen. Cody wouldn’t admit how much it hurt.

         Instead, Cody took another deep breath and gathered every modicum of professionalism in him. “Ok, understood. I’ll leave you boys alone then, but I expect a check-in tomorrow.”

         “Commander-“ Hunter finally spoke, recognizing the cold and forced neutrality in Cody’s voice. “That’s not what-“

         Cody held a hand up, cutting Hunter off. “It is what he meant. But I am not mad, ok? I understand; really, I do. Just do me a favor and don’t call Rex or Fives until you can hide that sentiment.”

         “Yessir.”

         Cody nodded sharply. “Alright. I’m going to ask Alpha-17 to check in with you before you boys are deployed again.” Hunter nodded again. Wrecker was still avoiding looking at Cody, so he softly added, “I’m not upset at you all.” Wrecker finally peeked up, and the sight of tears in the giant’s eyes twisted Cody’s heart. Cody tried to smile, and Wrecker returned it, a far cry from his earlier grin. “Good. Get some rest. That’s an order.”

         “You too, Commander,” Hunter responded before cutting the call.

         Cody slumped in his chair and tried to futilely rub away his headache. He would never admit that his breathing became unsteady and tears pricked in his eyes. Cody had planned on going to sleep, but instead, he stood up and opened his hidden hall panel. From the compartment, he grabbed the bottle of moonshine from the distillery setup he didn’t know existed. After a moment of consideration, Cody sent a message to Rex, inviting him to join Cody in his drinking. Drinking was always better with friends.

         If Hunter had known that Fives would die some months later, he would’ve tried harder to maintain contact with the reg. He thought about calling Captain Rex but figured that conversation wouldn’t go well.

         Well, like Crosshair had said: regs die; it’s what they do.

         The tension on the base when the Bad Batch left their ship was high, all of the soldiers in blue (and some in gold) were staring at them, and Hunter could just tell that they were glaring. It was somehow the iciest welcome they’d ever had, which was impressive. It didn’t help that his brothers were glaring right back at the regs. Hunter’s own reaction of cracking his knuckles as he stepped off the ship wasn’t helping.

         Hunter took a deep breath before stopping in front of Commander Cody, Captain Rex, and two 501st troopers- one of which Hunter vaguely recognized as the medic Fives had been running from on the day they’d met. The other trooper had a Republic cog face tattoo, identifying him as Jesse if Hunter remembered Echo’s description correctly (he did, of course. All clones had a near-perfect memory). However, it appeared the reg had become an ARC trooper. Good for him.

         Commander Cody stepped forward with his hand raised. Hunter slapped their hands together after he’d removed his helmet. “Sergeant, it’s good to see you again.”

         “You too, sir.” And it was good to see him again. While tensions had eased between the batch and the commander, it was clear that Cody was still toeing the line with them, trying to re-find their boundaries. It was hard over occasional comm conversations, most of which pertained to missions. “Sorry, we’re late. We were putting down an insurrection on Yalbec Prime when your comm came in. Had a few unforeseen…complications.” Hunter suppressed a slight shudder.

         Wrecker laughed, and Hunter could sense how the laugh was slightly forced. “Ever fought a male Yalbec?”

         Jesse, who Wrecker had pointed at, glanced at Kix before cautiously responding, “Um, no. Can’t say I have.”

         “You’re lucky,” Wrecker said with more force than necessary. “The only way to kill ‘em is with one of these!” Wrecker pulled out his oversized knife.

         Hunter could admit that they were laying the intimidation on think, especially considering this wasn’t their first time working with the 501st. But with the hurt of losing Echo coming back in full force, they all needed the relief lest Tech starts lecturing the 501st officers on how they could’ve avoided the death of the ARC. Hunter had a feeling that wouldn’t go over well. At least, that’s what he told himself as he boasted, “That’s right, Wrecker here cut off the Queen’s stinger while she was still alive.” But he couldn’t help the slight reprimand. “That’s why all those Yalbec males tried to eat us.”

         Hunter could see Commander Cody’s exasperated head shake out of the corner of his eye as Tech pushed forward to correct Hunter. Better Hunter than the 501st.

         “So, Commander,” Hunter said after a pause, “What kind of suicide mission do you have for us this time?”

         “Let’s get going. We’ll brief you on the way,” the Commander said as they all got onto the shuttle that drove up next to them. Jesse grunted as Wrecker punched him in the shoulder. Hunter could tell there was more force behind that punch than was usual for Wrecker’s friendly punches. Hunter made a mental note to tell Wrecker to tone it down. Echo wouldn’t have wanted them to bully his brothers.

         And wasn’t that funny, that after all this time, Echo was still a small whisper in the back of Hunter’s mind whenever regs were concerned?

         Hunter amended his mental note to remind all his brothers to play nice with the regs after watching Crosshair glare a hole into the ARC. Hunter could guess where the sniper’s mind was- that if Echo was alive, there wouldn’t have been a need to promote Jesse. Hunter felt the same, but he was better at not taking it out on the regs, which was why he prevented Jesse from marching over to Crosshair when the sniper flicked his toothpick at him.

         Aside from Commander Cody getting injured, the mission wasn’t going horribly. They had fun showing off their skills. Hunter saw a glimmer in the captain’s eye after the fact, and had thought he’d heard the faintest of hitched breathing in the middle of the fight. Though that could’ve been the Commander. Even taking the outpost went well, Captain Rex being a little playful as he suggested taking a play from the Batch’s book. Hunter was glad that Rex seemingly hadn’t changed his attitude toward them. It seemed Cody hadn't shared Crosshair’s sentiment with Rex. Hunter could only have imagined how the Captain would’ve reacted to that.

         The extra droids incoming were a bit concerning, but they’d faced worse. Rex commanding his squad definitely tickled Hunter wrong, but the sergeant was used to it. At least it was someone he knew and trusted to be a good leader. Hunter could tell his brothers were having a good time as they took out the clankers, even as they retreated inside as the droid’s backup came.

         But Hunter's ears picked up the faintest voice as he, Wrecker, and Jesse retreated inside. It was layered with a grainy noise that came with being spoken over comm, but it sounded familiar. Hunter did focus on what it was saying until they reached the control room. Captain Rex was hesitating, and Hunter didn’t understand until he finally caught wind of the message the computer was repeating.

         CT-1409.

         That was Echo’s number.

         “Wha-?” Wrecker’s mumble came through the comms.

         “No time,” Hunter barked as Captain Rex joined them to fight to the pick-up point.

         Hunter didn’t fully agree with Rex’s sentiment that this was a signal that Echo lived. Frankly, the thought of their brother having been left in the Separatists’ hands made him want to vomit. The implications if Echo had been alive were…not good. So for Hunter’s own sanity, Echo was dead unless Hunter saw him breathing himself.

         Somehow General Skywalker had convinced the other Generals that this mission was a good idea- masked under the pretense of learning about this algorithm. Hunter could tell that, despite his voiced skepticism, the General was hopeful his ARC was alive. Hunter wouldn’t press the issue, if only to get away from the awkward conversation about General Skywalker and Captain Rex’s ‘thing.’ Yeah. Hunter didn’t need to know.

         Hunter used the time walking back to the ship to think about how his brothers were doing and how he’d have to counteract any of their more violent reactions. Crosshair would be firmly in the denial category, to the point of violence (which wouldn’t end well with Captain Rex’s firm belief stance). Tech has likely already calculated the odds of Echo being alive, the odds of him being in good shape, hell Tech probably had the odds that Crosshair would get into a fight with Captain Rex. Wrecker would probably be the most hopeful of the bunch, the optimism somewhat appreciated.

         Hunter had barely gotten back on the Marauder before Crosshair decided to share his opinions on the matter.

         “I think the regs have finally lost it,” Crosshair sneered from his perch on some boxes. “Either that or the good captain needs his hearing checked.”

         “Or all of us need our hearing check,” Hunter corrected with a sigh. “We all heard it.”

         “I assure you, all of our auditory processes are functioning perfectly,” Tech jumped in as he exited the cockpit.

         “Yeah, what he said!” Wrecker added. “My ears are working just fine!”

         “Well, given your frequent work and close proximity to explosions, it is likely that you…” Tech trailed off at Wrecker’s lost look and Crosshair’s unimpressed look. The genius scoffed. “Regardless. We all heard the computer correctly; the algorithm was repeating Echo’s designation of CT-1409.”

         “Then the captain is delusional,” Crosshair concluded in a harsh tone. He flicked his toothpick away before heading to the back of the ship.

         “But Echo could be alive…” Wrecker said in his quietest voice, hope clear in his eyes. Hunter felt his heart tug for his brother and stepped over to gently pat his shoulder. “Right, Tech?”

         Under the weight of Wrecker’s tooka eyes and Hunter’s glare, Tech faltered for a moment. He adjusted his goggles and checked his datapad. “It is not a 100% guarantee that Captain Rex is wrong.” Left unsaid was the likelihood he was right, but it seemed good enough for Wrecker.

         “Even if it’s not Echo,” Hunter added, “We’ll make whoever is using his number pay.”

         That cheered up Wrecker, his usual grin coming back as he pounded his fist into his palm. “Hell yeah, we will! Imma wreck those clankers so hard they’ll be nothing but scrap!”

         “I don’t doubt it,” Hunter replied, chuckling a bit. He patted Wrecker’s shoulder again. Hunter then turned and followed where Crosshair had gone. Wrecker would be fine for now, and there wasn’t much Hunter could do for Tech.

         Crosshair was bent over his rifle, disassembling and aggressively cleaning its parts. A scowl was firmly in place on his face. Crosshair didn’t acknowledge Hunter as he leaned against the door frame. Hunter bit back a sigh.

         “What’s going through your head, Cross?” Hunter asked softly. One might think that Tech would be the most liable to get stuck in his head, but in reality, Crosshair would stew in his thoughts for hours if they let him. If Hunter had to guess, it had something to do with the countless hours Crosshair spent quietly perched during their missions.

         Crosshair grunted in response, and Hunter waited. Crosshair would eventually talk once he realized that Hunter wasn’t walking away. It took a few minutes, but finally, Crosshair sighed through his nose. “Even if Echo is alive,” Crosshair scoffed at the sentiment, “what’s the guarantee that he’s even the Echo we knew?”

         Hunter grimaced. It was a question that he hadn’t been letting himself think about. “I’m not Tech,” Hunter admitted, earning an eyeroll from Crosshair. “But I’d hazard a guess and say not great.”

         “More like non-existent,” Crosshair snaped. “And what will the captain- hells- the general do about it?” It was a rhetorical question Hunter didn’t even bother trying to answer. Crosshair was on a roll. “Nothing. They don't have what it takes.”

         “To do what?” Hunter asked. He tried to ask it softly, but his tone came out harsh. He didn’t like where Crosshair was heading.

         Crosshair looked at Hunter like he was an idiot- not an uncommon look. “To put Echo -or whatever is playing at being Echo- down.”

         Hunter sucked in a breath between his teeth. It was true but blunt. And no one in the 501st, or Wrecker for that matter, would take it well. “And you do?”

         Crosshair scoffed as if it was a foregone conclusion. But Hunter could see the pain in his eyes. Some might think Crosshair’s bluntness was a signal that he was unaffected by the situation, but Hunter knew better. He knew that Crosshair would shoulder himself with any responsibility he thought would hurt their squad. Crosshair would take that burden and pain and refuse to talk about it until it exploded out of him. Hunter was self-aware enough to admit he was the same way.

         So instead of berating his brother, his first instinct in these situations, Hunter forced himself to take a deep breath and set a hand on Crosshair’s shoulder. Crosshair wasn’t a physically affectionate person, only seeking such comfort in the hardest of times. It was telling, then, that he didn’t brush Hunter’s hand off.

         “We’ll cross that bridge when the time comes,” Hunter said after a moment. “And if it does, you won’t be alone.”

         Nothing was left to say- any platitudes of comfort would not be appreciated. The facts were that Echo was dead, and Captain Rex hadn’t entirely accepted that. For once, it looked like the Bad Batch would have to be the responsible ones.

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