#i say other ships exist and should have just slapped said ships in order they appeared on the list

[akkivee]

i never have anything new whenever a ship meme rolls around it’s just like this for me all day everyday lmao

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

Can you talk about Gladue Reports for Native criminals? I was SA'd as a child by a Native man and I remember his lawyer reading a Gladue Report for him during sentencing and it felt like such a slap in the face to me, because it basically excused everything he did to me without him actually having to take responsibility. That's just my opinion though, would love to hear yours.

To be honest, I had to look it up as I'd not encountered the term before. And I agree with you, the whole thing is repugnant.

Essentially, a Gladue Report is the opposite of a victim impact statement. Instead of a victim describing how the crime has impacted their life, it's the perpetrator saying why what they did is somehow mitigated by the fact they're native/indigenous/first peoples.

What this says is, this group of people over here can't be expected to behave according to the norms of the society in which they live and were born into, so we should lower our standards and stop expecting them to. It's the bigotry of low expectations.

That somehow the sexual assault this man perpetrated against you is lessened or less of a crime because the man who did it is indigenous/native/whatever we're calling it now. He's less in control of and responsible for his own actions and less able to learn to behave right.

Imagine being able to say, I'm of Slavic descent and my ancestors were enslaved throughout the Middle East, therefore when I murder someone it's less of a crime because history or something. Or, many of the first Europeans in Australia were convicts who were shipped out having committed only minor crimes in Britain, so a descendant of those people gets a lighter sentence because history and deportation and shit.

Ridiculous.

In looking into this, I went down a bit of a rabbit hole regarding indigenous violence. As I've mentioned before, there's a myth that native people were peaceful and coexisted with each other and nature until the evil settlers arrived. Except this isn't true. Natives made alliances with settlers in many cases, in order to gain access to the weapons to exterminate their enemies. (They really needed Starfleet's rules around the Prime Directive, First Contact and not granting access to alien technology back then.)

In many communities with a high percentage of native people with tribal backgrounds, violence occurs at a higher rate per capita than other communities/populations. And this is across multiple countries: USA, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and so on. Tribal customs of retaliation or score-settling are common. But nobody wants to talk about or address this because racism, colonialism, white guilt, something, something, something.

And yet, the existence of Gladue Reports at all is covertly an admission of this reality.

Lower violence is actually associated with strong centralized government, where violent deaths occur in the low single digit percentages... at their worst. Which is the absolute lower band of tribal societies and only goes up from there.

Bringing it back to the point, the legal system said to you, what you went through is less serious or less of a crime because of who he is.

In essence, it's like saying that he owes you $1,000 for what he did to you.... but you owe him $500 because of something he didn't experience that you didn't do, so he only owes you $500 and then you're even.

Or, more insidiously, that society owes him some proportion of a sexual assault, and disturbingly, you're the one to pay him the reparations he's owed.

Ridiculous, racist and utterly immoral.

[mrstsung]

Me at mk12/mk1 shang:

Baby you did no wrong. The narrative does you wrong. Tells us you can never be forgiven yet other characters do horrible shit (maybe even worse) and get off scott free cuz the narrative and story told you to hate him. Instead of using your brains to think for once in your god damn lives. Calling shang lazy because he's poor,down on his luck trying to survive in this game. Ableist shitlords who tell poor people and minority groups to "put in honest work and youll get somewhere" or "shang tsung is always a liar" when a supposed "good version exists"?! Are you shitting me?! He deserve nice things. Every excuse i see seems to be wanting to demonize a character that in the story actually didn't deserve it. And by all means is valid in their anger. Shang tsung deserves better. But most of all he deserves the heads of those responsible for giving him a wretched life. So fuck nrs and fuck liu kang stans.

You deserve so much more. Shang tsung stans,my fellow tsimps. Please do him actual justice. That doesn't involve shipping him with everyone on the roster. You know actually write something worth a lick.

Also Me at mk12/mk1 liu kang and anyone who justifies him in the narrative now:

That's not my liu kang and honestly liu should have stayed dead.

Nah i won't apologize.

Hating on this man for the predicaments that you gaslight him on in a situation where liu kang has every fucking means and power to actually change shit or ya know stand up to his superiors. Does nothing. Nobody's calling out these god/titans. And look where that gets our faves.

So liu kang is just as at fault if not more.

You dont give him nearly as much shit as you give raiden as a God and yet unlike raiden

LIU KANG DESERVES TO GET FUCKING YELLED AT,CALLED OUT AND SOME FUCKING CONSEQUENCES FOR HIS BLUNDERS. but yet....he doesn't really. Just sad kitty mew mew faces and a slap on the wrist.

Meanwhile shang tsung has to pay for crimes he did WHILE HE WAS TRYING TO SURVIVE AND ACTUALLY FUCKING DO SOMETHING ABOUT THE PROBLEMS.

Dont give that "oh but evil shang" did what? Whos to say it wasn't the same shit? But instead of God liu kang,it was raiden? So same shit. Plus like i said a good shang exists. So....what is the actual excuse to not feel bad for shang. Even a lil bit?

So same shit different god. Nothing got changed. Nothing worth of lick to the story actually happened.

So what did we actually do differently that was worth it?

Nothing.

Like how am i supposed to love these supposed "good guys" but all they do is follow orders,not question shit,follow narrative,and run around like bumbling idiots? How am i supposed to root for someone who legitimately ruined the lives of others by not actually helping.

If gods actually can do all this shit in mks world. Like they say. If these beings are oh so powerful. Then show it. Because if not. Then they are just as flawed and are no better then the supposed mortals.

Gods in mk use mortals as cattle for their own amusement would be the narrative that mk needs so desperately. And for shang tsung of all people to call that shit out and actually do something about it and do a NOBLE DEED. Would be fucking amazing.

But nope y'all want your boring stale unseasoned trope of "uwu evil guy to beat up because me good guy cant possibly be an asshole in the wrong uwu"

What drove shang to evil....is the lack of actually love and care from someone that was supposed to protect him. He had a hard time trusting others. So.....help him trust again? Help him and guide him better? Maybe he needs a lil bit different teaching technique? He obviously didn't take pleasure in lying or stealing or selling to make ends meet. Obviously there was a reason. Whos to say the people wouldn't find any excuse to hate shang even if he was making an honest living? Whos to say that they wouldn't find a way to other him in the narrative as some of y'all seem to be doing?

So yeah nothing changed.

same shit. Different god. That's all that fucking changed. Period.

It's a mid game. And thats me being very very generous. If shang wasn't in it and used as fucking sale bait. I bet you it wouldn't even get off half the fucking attention it's gotten. And even then it's waning as we speak. (Good)

Say what you want but there is no valid reason to hate shang tsung. You can say he's not your fave. You can say he's done deliciously cold Blooded shit. I'd agree with you.

But dont ever say it was for no reason. He has every right to fuck the gods up.

This man is a survivor of a game that was rigged from the start.

And by god he still despite taking unnecessary L's . He stays winning because i feel he's more popular than any other character on the roster. Simply by being the lovely bastard he is.

People would argue that sub zero or scorpion are the best. Not anymore. They aint even the right ones.

Kenshi is only popular because pretty guy lewis tan(he's cute but by god fans of him are irritating) plays him and people want anime sword dude. Outside of that niche what does he actually have to offer the narrative and story beyond his part. Nothing. Unpopular opinion but...His son was cooler anyways.

Johnny cage is cool but only in small doses otherwise he's insufferable. And he's even mid tier in mk12/mk1. That jean claude van damme skin is the only reason people came back for johnny and i genuinely feel that was also a sale bait. Because they knew they couldn't beat tekkens sales nor street fighter. And had to rush shit out to even be noticed.

It reeks of "notice me younger generation. We still have the cool toys." It's desperate for the glory days that never will come.

People are tired of the mediocre.

You had an opportunity to actually shake shit up. But nope nrs just wants an injustice game so bad but have to appease the impatient mk fans. I say this as a long time mk fan. We are our own worst enemy.

But enough venting.

I'll get back to shang tsung posting soon.

Some actual good food.

Just lemme simmer down and cook a bit.

[minsarasarahair]

My reason why Lou Zhu & Zuo Yunqi (Medicine) pair from You Yao (Are You OK) donghua is very enticing to me.

They can stand on their own as character and as a pair. Their story is not just about them taking care of each other. Each of them have things going on in their story. They have their own agenda. Lou Zhu has the emperor and Yunqi has his dad. I also like that their character development is such a great contrast from each other. Tbh I didn't ship them in season 1 but I find them very interesting nonetheless. I start to ship them after reading the book and season 2.

Typical romantic pair is already mainstream so an ambiguous pair like them piqued my interest because its something new or refreshing to me. I like that their relationship is hard to put label on. If we have morally grey characters, of course, a love that's in the borderline of platonic and romantic might exist. Its too deep to be just platonic and not that intimate to be romantic standard. I commend IQIYI for describing their connection as "deep bond". Not soulmates, not friends and not lovers.

I really love their love language. Act of service, trust, sincerity and understanding. That's my usual requirement when I ship characters. It doesn't have to be intimate. If you can't sell the pair as platonic to me, forget it, it just means you will never sell it as romantic ship to me. Because for me, love should be doing the most ordinary things and making it special. Seeing them talk will be enough. I hate it when the characters are supposed to be good people and they don't even know how to communicate with each other. I also love when Lou Zhu just let Yunqi do whatever he want. Even if Yunqi is the younger one, Lou Zhu don't really restrict him from doing things. Yunqi want to help? Sure. Yunqi want to investigate on his own? Why not?

I simply headcanon Lou Zhu as Aroace. The man literally show no interest toward romance but you can tell he has strong emotional bond with Zuo Yunqi. From what I searched, he can be a demiromantic though whereas he can develop romantic feelings because of forming a strong emotional bond but he's not sexually attracted nor attracted to physical appearance. I guess I love Aroace romance stories? You know, like Shiki and Mikiya from Garden of Sinners. I love that one.

I like that they didn't meet each other quickly after Lou Zhu isekai'd to Da Liang. In typical romance, CP usually meet soon as possible so they start to protect and rely to each other. The bad thing about this is its rare to watch them grow as a person. Because of this, Lou Zhu learned to protect himself and survive on his own in a unfamiliar world. But when they finally meet, its as if fate or stars aligned because their troubles as characters is surprisingly so similar. Then they became an inspiration to each other to not run away anymore and breaking out from their shackles.

Liking this pair really take time but the wait is worth it. I say "time" really plays a big role in this pair because you'll appreciate them more as pair as time goes by. Just like I said, I don't ship them in the beginning but now looking back to their past make me feel nostalgic that they really grow as characters and as a pair. I'm very proud of them as my fave characters and as my fave ship.

They are very cute in the most subtle way!! I hate romance that slap to my face as if they treat me I'm blind or something hence why I hate stories with heavy romance. I prefer story-driven or character-driven story with romance as a side dish. I find myself screaming every time Lou Zhu and Yunqi talk to each other. Yeah, they just talk but my gawd. THEY ARE TOO PRECIOUS. The little details just make me happy. For example, Yunqi ordering a less sugar Milktea for Lou Zhu only because its healthy.

[thebroccolination]

Ooooh the discourse about fanservice is so wild to me.

I asked Tom about this and apparently the backlash actually came from Thai fandom this time (though I know a lot of international fans despise fanservice as well as Thailand's very established shipping culture and probably jumped on the train, but I didn't see any of it because I have a lot of people on Twitter blocked at this point).

The root of the issue seems to be: "KristSingto's dance was Fanservice Gone Too Far" because They're Obviously Straight and it's Wrong to Lie. But to add onto OP's excellent point that Thai BL fanservice is very openly an act that we're all supposed to acknowledge as such and have fun with, literally no one knows these actors' sexualities except them.

We don't live in a world where being openly queer is easy. These actors cannot win.

If you're straight playing queer roles, you're encroaching on queer actors' space. (See: criticisms of Nanon, who has confirmed he's straight and never wanted to be in the BL industry in the first place for probably exactly the toxic fandom reasons he left it.)

If you're openly queer playing queer roles, conservative sponsors won't go near you. (See: vibrantly, openly queer Earth staying with Wabi Sabi with its openly gay CEO while most of the others went to GMMTV, which, while staffed by queer artists and staff, is owned by extremely conservative GMM and has very few openly queer actors.)

If you're queer and closeted playing queer roles, fans assume you're straight and encroaching on queer actors' space. (See: a lot of them.)

"Only queer people should play queer roles" sounds adorable and lovely until you realize you're enforcing an unrealistic standard. Thailand is only now legalizing marriage equality in 2024. It's still a conservative Asian country, and while things have improved, not to the point where every queer actor is free to say they are without consequences to their careers, fan support, and physical safety.

It circles back to the widespread misunderstanding of what "queerbaiting" is. It's a marketing term used to represent companies hinting at queer content that doesn't exist in the actual story in order to get queer viewers to watch a show or buy a book or go see a movie. It is not "wah they made me think they're queer." Real human beings can't queerbait. It's not a thing, and it's wildly harmful to insist that it is.

Krist and Singto performing an extremely intimate dance in their comeback concert isn't just brave, it's exactly what OP said: it's helping to normalize queer visibility. Their sexualities don't matter as long as they're representing queerness in a positive way, and they did.

And as always, Krist is my biological son and I will slap your soul with a football cleat on my hand if you speak ill of him in any way. <3

Haven't watched anything KristSingto recently but he's right

You can think of fanservice what you want. But the moment you want to police or censor it, it turns into something really problematic. And this stance comes from 2 or even 3 different oppinioned sides but they ironically melt into the same outcome.

But at the end of the day most people forget / ignore, regardless of anything, fanservice still helps normalising public queer affection. And let's be real, most of the stuff in those stage and event shows are that... a show or even a performance! Do you protest at your local theater when they have queer characters kissing? Do you notice how this sounds in a sentence? Yes actors are real people and not characters but especially BL actors & idols still perform stage shows and kind of have a public enertainer persona. You notice how different they are on stage vs. in their personal live streams + nowadays most actors are even very honest about just doing fs for show & fun and often genuine (platonic) affection towards their acting partner but don't pretend to be actual dating (and the ones who do will most likely not lightheartedly come out with it like that... apparently there are exceptions but I have not enough insight on them to judge). You should watch some serious interviews or live stream (translations) of your favs now and then maybe to learn more about them and the industry, they are more than just pretty faces... Actors in just my bubble who talked open about the fanservice topic as far as legally possible at least: JamesSu, Perth Nakhun and I guess we can count Pavel and Nut as well.

What fans make out of it is a whole different story.... and one of the reasons people want to shut down fanservice as a whole. But imagine how lighthearted, fun and easy going this whole thing could be if we didn't had all these toxic naive fans who think every interaction is proof of actors dating (or worse: cheating) in RL. That mindset of "we are BL fans of course we are delulu" is not a joke anymore among some of them. They srsly take pride in that... babes you are part of the problem, stop encouraging it!

Then on the other side, being critical of some of the practices of the industry is one thing but it should not lead into backwards queer censoring... but that's what some are swaying to with their "real people queerbait" agenda or getting the cringes when (samesex) people interact romantically or erotically during live events (that's a bit of a you thing my dears. not necessarily in a queerphobic way but in a purity / shy way and that is a you problem to deal with not anyone elses problem)....

And a lot of people don't even understand or get what most people criticise about fanservice and just jump onto the ban-fanservice train. Without understanding the nuances nor the actual industry circumstances. Like one main argument here isn't even true. Lot of people assume actors get forced into fs. Which is not true (source: one of Perth Nakhuns Q&A vids, the 2. vid i think). BL actors usually know what they get into by entering the industry, decide with eo how much they want to do. Now that can still cause internal personal conflicts like one going over board or not playing enough but that's human miscommunication. Or companies can still be bastards but it's unfair to generalise it over the whole industry when we nowadays have companies who give their actors that freedom.

There are still some points to criticise, definitely. Like I personally dislike how MCs and sponsors sometimes treat actors during events or how fans scream at every little move or glance like crazy.... But the topic is a bit more nuanced (as always in this world) than how most people look at it. I just mean it really always sticks out when you talk with people about their reasons why they are anti fanservice that they just repeat after another with no sources or without actual up to date information or only look at it from one side.

I personally am in the middle. I only like fs when the actors have fun with it and are transparent about it. In the end it comes down to actors consent what they want to give to the audience (reason why it annoys me when people write "i feel like i am interrupting something here / am intuding their privacy" the actors consented! they want you to watch if you want to see it! consent babes! it is fine)

(when i see someone coming in with "but Krist is a homophobe" I will bite you. I am not even his fan and already researched what happened back then when I first saw those accusations when I got into BL 2021ish. It is really not that hard to look up the source and reports of people who were live pressent at the time to understand what went down back then. Ya know instead of believing rumors that twist and lie for rage bait)

[asher-the-diaster]

the sister planets pt 5

Not little, Not green

this is part 5 of a story that was supposed to be one installment, you can find the other parts here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DYMuKK5CIgJgDapNbu5sBqr_b5uT1Yz4pJoJ2fuAk4w/edit?usp=sharing

“Obsered!”

“Impossible!”

“Pepeproustrous!”

“Order!”

“Doctor twee-ake, while I don't agree with the disruption of conseil proceedings, i do have to ask how such abnormal test results could be so.”

“What's so surprising?” I asked. Doctor twee-ake had asked one of us to volunteer for some sort of conseil of new species hearing, as the captain I elected to go. I was no diplomat but still the closest thing we had. It was long after they had done the tests, Richardson had been returned to us with much prompting. I had been fitted with a weirdly designed alien crutch which me being able to use drew a lot of stares. (i’m clumsy ok, this wasn’t my first broken bone).

They had also given me a hastily made breathing mask so i could leave the contact room and still breath, it also connected to a translator that english had been loaded on when they were studying humans and was surprisingly good for being made in 24 hours

“Practically all of her reports!”

“If these humans weren’t unlike the other thangs in the galaxy they wouldn’t have survived a wormhole in an unprepared ship.”

“But to suggest this!”

“What exactly about this report is so crazy?” I asked.

“Among other things It says that you are sentient pursuit predators,” I nodded, “who breathe air so saturated with oxygen that it can sustain continued combustion, have venom, have more bacterial cells than your own cells in your body. Explains the existence of overreaction scar tissue that can heal broken bones, and finally it says that your stomach can hold cide with a pH of 1.5 to 3.5.”

“Save the venom part, all of that is true.”

“Wait, my test clearly showed that you have a gland in your mouth that produces toxic emessimes that can damage mussels when combined with your teeth.”

“That’s true but, it's sliva not venom, it's the first stage in our digestion, the main reason it can be toxic is the fact that there's bacteria in it, but that's different from venom.”

“Yes!” one of the conseil members yelled, “the grand difference between venom and emsesmise filled with bacteria!”

“These people are dangerous! How can we let them join the universal conseil?”

“Would you rather have them join the united species?”

That shut everyone up. They looked at me terrified of the idea.

“The which?” I asked.

“They are the historical enemies of the ua.”

“I’m just a soldier and am in debt to you for saving my life, but the actual people incharge at nato and the south pacific treaty association, or the UN for that matter might not. Why should the humans join you instead of them?”

“I have an answer for both questions, why should the humans be let into the ua and why should they join us rather than our enemies.”

“What could possibly prove that?”

“I’m curious too.”

“I have reason to believe that the human planet, the one they call earth, which means ground, is really the planet that the zalo and calo, know as…” twee-ake paused, i didn’t know much about the zalo, but i knew when someone was about to be sick.

“Well doctor? What planet?”

“Saphis,” it was barely a whisper but it sent the conseil into chaos.

After about five minutes of the chairman trying to get the conseil to order, I slapped hard against my hand three times. That drew everyone's attention.

I noticed that it was only 2 of the maybe dozen or so species panicking, the zalo who like twee-ake, looked vaguely like humanoid fish cats and a species I suspected to be the calo’s who were strangely batlike.

All the other species looked as confused as I was.

“What’s saphis?”

“It’s a planet in our home solar system.” one of the calo’s explained.

“I’m confused.”

“In the early days of our solar system the planets were often pleated with rocks and debris, throwing macrobiotic life into the vacuum of space and from a rock exchange in between 3 of 4 of the rocky midgets, the zalos and calos evolved separately and met when fleeing as both of our planets were becoming uninhabitable. To suggest that you are from saphis, the third planet of the triad would be to suggest that you are from a planet of such unimaginable death that the vast majority of its biodiversity has been killed off 5 separate times.”

“6,” I muttered under my breath without thinking.

Why did that story sound so familiar?

Oh right because it was a theory of how life the amount of times earth got hit by meteorites in the early days.

That would make these aliens from another solar system…

“Martians.” I said in awe.

[stolen-pen-name23]

Hey, I love your writing! How about "please talk to me" or "why don't you care?" with Obi-Wan and Anakin for the prompts?

Ahhh thank you so much!!! You're too sweet!

"Please talk to me" and "why don't you care" from these angst prompts. Note: I'm not going to close my inbox, but I'm going to be traveling for a few weeks so if you send me a request, I won't be able to get to it for a while. Plus, there are still quite a few prompts in my inbox I'm working on.

Anyway, here ya go!

---

Anakin hated it when Obi-Wan got like this.

Quiet.

He was never quiet, save in sleep or meditation — two thing he hadn’t been partaking in as much anymore. Any other time, he always had some observation or quippy remark to make. But not now. Now, he sat silently at the kitchen table, staring at his tea, lost in one thought or another.

Anakin knew that when Obi-Wan got quiet, something was wrong. Not that his stubborn old Master would ever express that outwardly. It drove Anakin mad.

Anakin slid into the chair across from Obi-Wan. “They’re going to ship us out again soon,” Anakin started.

Obi-Wan hummed.

“It feels like we just got back home.”

“I suppose it does.”

Anakin frowned. His attempts at conversation were not going well.

“Is something bothering you?” Anakin asked.

“It’s fine, Anakin.”

Anakin could feel frustration swelling up in his chest. What was bothering Obi-Wan? Was it something he did? Surely Obi-Wan would have told him if he did something to upset him. He had had no problem doing that in the past, but now… now tensions between them had become more taught. Anakin wasn’t sure if he was the problem.

“Are you mad at me?” Anakin asked tentatively, feeling like a youngling at the question.

“No.”

“Then what?”

“Just drop it, Anakin.”

“Please,” Anakin said. “Just talk to me, Obi-Wan. You know you can talk to me.”

“I am talking to you,” Obi-Wan said, lifting his gaze from the steaming mug in his hand to Anakin.

“Don’t be a smartass.”

“Fine. What do you want to talk about?” Obi-Wan relented.

“I want you to tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong.”

“I have a hard time believing that.”

“You can believe whatever you want to believe Anakin.”

“I believe something is wrong.”

“And you are free to do so.”

Anakin huffed. “Stop avoiding the question.”

“Stop asking,” Obi-Wan challenged.

Obi-Wan sipped at his tea and remained passive — the mask of indifference proving to Anakin that he felt anything but. Anakin’s pulse quickened and he felt heat crawling up his neck, reddening his skin.

“Stop trivializing this, Obi-Wan!” Anakin snapped.

“I’m not trivializing anything. There’s nothing to trivialize!”

“Force, why can’t you even pretend like you care about something for once? Do you just not care about anything? Is that it?”

Obi-Wan looked like he had been slapped across the face.

It was in that moment that Anakin realized that maybe he had gone too far this time – pushed a little too hard in an attempt to get a rise out of him.

“How could you say that? How could you think that of me?” Obi-Wan’s voice was low, almost threatening.

“Master I-”

“You presume that I do not feel things because I do not react the way you do to every tragedy that befalls me? You think I am but an emotionless droid wandering around the galaxy? You believe I feel nothing after… after everything? Do you truly believe this?”

“No, Master, I don’t believe that. I didn’t mean–”

Obi-Wan raised his hands. “Stop Anakin. I don’t want to hear it right now. I’m going to bed. You should too.”

Obi-Wan promptly stood up and retreated to his room without even a parting glance Anakin’s way.

Anakin would not be going to bed. At least not here. Why stay in a cramped apartment with his broody former Master when there was a senatorial apartment with a warm bed and someone who was definitely not broody lying in it?

“I’m headed to your place,” Anakin said into his comm.

“I thought you were staying at the temple tonight, Ani?” Padme replied.

“I changed my mind. I’d rather stay with you.”

“Alright,” Padme said softly. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Anakin replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just want to see you.”

“Alright, Ani. I’ll see you soon then.”

Anakin grabbed his robe and tore through the halls of the temple until he was spilling into the streets of Coruscant. Cold air nipped at his skin, but he didn’t care. His annoyance, his anger, kept him feeling warm.

He should probably take a speeder. It would be faster. But he needed to burn off some energy and a brisk walk through the smog-soaked streets promised some reprieve from the worst of his rage.

The sights, the sounds, the smells of Coruscant all flooded his senses. He did his best to filter it out and focus on his destination, but a storefront was playing the nightly news and the headline passed through his unstable filters.

“Next up on evening news: A planet in distress. It has been one year since the assassination of Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore.”

Anakin’s heart skipped a beat. He immediately backtracked and stood in front of the holo, unable to look away and unable to hear anything else but this.

“With the Death Watch regime now in power, will Mandalore finally take a side in the Clone War? Tune in tonight for predictions from our expert analyst.”

Anakin’s thoughts raced back to the argument he had with Obi-Wan not even an hour ago.

Every tragedy that befalls me.

One year.

Oh yeah, Anakin messed up.

He fumbled around for his comm and flipped it open. “Padme, I’m so sorry, I can’t come by anymore. I need to go home.”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“What’s wrong?” Padme asked suspiciously.

“Nothing. I just need to clear something up with Obi-Wan. That’s all.”

“What did you do this time?” she groaned.

“I’ll tell you about it later, I need to go.”

“Alright, love. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Anakin turned off his comm, turned on his heels, and ran.

He tore through the temple just as he had torn out of it. He ignored sideways glances and zeroed in on the pathway to their quarters. The door slid open at his command and he bounded over their threshold. Despite just covering a great distance to get here, the distance from the threshold to Obi-Wan’s room felt greater still. Still, he willed his legs, now tired from his sprint through Coruscant, to carry him to Obi-Wan’s room.

He did not bother knocking. If he did, Obi-Wan would refuse to see him and he needed to see him.

The room was cloaked in darkness, but city lights cascaded on Obi-Wan’s body through the window like artificial moonbeams. He was still as if in sleep, but his breathing was hitched and ragged and anything but restful.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked cautiously.

“Not now, Anakin,” Obi-Wan muttered softly.

“No, I–” Anakin faltered. “You don’t have to talk to me. I came to apologize.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“It is.”

Anakin turned on a lamp and Obi-Wan squinted at the warm glow. His eyes, Anakin noticed, were red-rimmed and bloodshot. His hair was a mused and greasy mess.

“May I sit?” Anakin asked.

“If I tell you no, you will just sit anyway.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that more than anyone.”

“So can I sit?” Anakin asked, trying not to let impatience creep back in.

“Yes, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. “You may sit.”

Obi-Wan pulled himself up into a sitting position and moved sideways, allowing Anakin to sit beside him.

“Anakin stop,” Obi-Wan said quickly before Anakin could get all the way on his bed.

“What?” Anakin asked worried Obi-Wan had suddenly changed his mind.

“Take your muddy boots off before you get in my bed. Force who raised you?”

Anakin let out a sharp laugh. He relaxed. If Obi-Wan could scold him like that, then what existed between them was not entirely broken.

“I hate to break it to you, Master,” Anakin said. “But you had a significant hand in my upbringing.”

“Where did I go wrong?” Obi-Wan said, his half-smile an olive branch.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Anakin said. He pulled off his boots and settled in next to Obi-Wan. “You did okay.”

Obi-Wan’s half-smile lingered for a moment longer before fading away.

“Master, I–” Anakin started. He made himself gentler, softer, smaller — everything Obi-Wan needed him to be — everything he was not. “Master, I need to apologize. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that.”

“It’s fine, Anakin.”

“It’s not. I shouldn’t have pushed you and I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

Obi-Wan averted his gaze and remained silent.

“I know you care,” Anakin said earnestly. “I know you care about the Order. The war. Your men. I know you care about,” now Anakin’s breath shook. “I know you care about Ahsoka even though she’s gone. I know you care about me and… and I know you care about her.”

Obi-Wan remained silent for a while and Anakin fought the urge to ask him to say something. That’s how they ended up here in the first place.

“It’s been a year,” Obi-Wan said.

“I know,” Anakin said. “Well, I didn’t know, but I saw it on the news, and I… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s been a year and we’re still in this bloody war and she’s dead and he’s still…” alive.

Obi-Wan didn’t need to finish the sentence for Anakin to know what he meant. He blinked back tears, stubbornly refusing to let them fall.

Anakin sighed. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. The words felt lame and altogether too small to cover the true meaning behind them. But he was not Obi-Wan. He had no words of wisdom or comfort to offer — only apologies and quiet condolences.

“I know, Anakin.”

“Is there something I can do?” Anakin asked, feeling useless.

Obi-Wan finally turned to him, and Anakin could feel the loneliness, the sadness, the exhaustion rolling off of his former Master.

“You can stay.”

So he did.

[myfairkatiecat]

Hola everybody who has seen this post

So! little order of events thing

1. Anon ask sent to do-you-ship-this-book-couple saying that the people interacting with the blog were newer fans and “painfully cishet” and that if they want the “real” kotlc fandom lore they should talk to an older fan (bad taste ask if you ask me? It’s all real lore and that’s a ship blog. But I digress)

2. A (queer) friend of mine made a post about how that’s not a very nice way to describe a group of cishet people since they didn’t choose their own gender/sexuality

3. I reblogged that post cause I thought my friend was right

4. An anon asked me to stop acting like a victim, which was bs cause I never even said I was a victim of anything, I literally reblogged a post from my friend who is queer

5. A new anon stopped by with the ask detailed above which I didn’t really know how to respond to, hence the “hello” as the only response. I was hoping other people would have. Better thoughts than me. And a few of my friends came over to say that anon didn’t have a very good attitude about this subject, which I appreciated, especially since I feel odd addressing this stuff as someone who is in the historically privileged group regarding all of this, if you get what I mean?

6. One such response was the thing doodle said above, which was followed by semper’s reblog—which is a fantastic and very true reblog don’t get me wrong (cue the applause 👏👏👏 bc it’s well structured and written too), I just felt like I should clarify to everyone who sees this without context that no cishet people were claiming to be oppressed for being cishet anywhere before during or after this discussion. Nor was anyone offended by a person making jokes about someone being their own sexuality.

7. Whatever’s going on in my ask box right now

Anyway I just wanted to slap a few clarifications of context on this post since I think most people seeing it don’t know exactly what anon was responding to or what we were responding to in the first place that prompted the anon.

A n y w a y

Point is! Everyone should get to live peacefully, be their own sexuality whether that’s gay or straight or anything in between, project their sexuality onto characters when they feel like it, and just generally exist without people making problems out of their existing.

Hope everyone who sees this post has a wonderful day.

it’s like balancing a scale. Homophobic people treated people in the LGBTQ community as lesser and there was significantly less representation for us in media. So jokes about people being too straight or making all the characters in a book we like gay are to balance that out. Making it so there’s and equal number of gay and straight people in a book doesn’t cut it because for so long the books were dominated by straight people. That’s why I personally am annoyed with the new influx of straight shipping. (Not the original anon)

hello

[kanerallels]

OKAY OKAY ROUND TWO OF THIS! Kanera fix it or Kanera and waffles! Whichever works <3

*has no self control* *writes my first fix it* This was hecking fun! I hope you enjoyed it!

Pairing: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla

Word Count: 2,455

Tags/Warning: rated T (for time travel! *insert Hulk gif here*) and also near death

This wasn’t how Kanan wanted things to end.

He'd wanted more time. He'd wanted to explain things to Hera, to tell her how much she meant to him.

But things had moved too fast for him. Kanan was too late.

He felt the heat of the fire from the fuel pod singing the tips of his fingers, and concentrated on pushing it back with all his strength, his hands shaking slightly and his face twisting with the effort. The fire billowed high above him, but Kanan wasn’t afraid. Just full of regrets.

Behind him, he heard Hera scream his name, her voice full of raw desperation and fear. Kanan knew, without even needing to look, that she would run towards him and she did, her steps barely audible above the roar of the flames.

Turning without looking, Kanan diverted part of his concentration and caught her in her steps, holding her back with the Force. He felt her struggle against the grip, panic and fear pulsing through her.

Slowly, on some instinct he didn’t understand, he turned to face Hera. Maybe it was because of how much he ached to see her. Maybe it was to give her one last glimpse of him. Kanan sensed her desperation, her fear, how much she wanted to reach him.

But he couldn’t let her. There was too much at stake. So with a quick thrust, he sent her flying back to where Ezra was waiting, ready. His apprentice caught hold of her, holding her back. Kanan felt a flicker of gratitude-- he could always count on Ezra.

An odd tingling sensation swept across his eyes, and for a moment he thought he was crying. But crying had been impossible ever since Malachor. Since he’d been blinded.

Even as he thought the word, it was like a cloud was swept away from his eyes, and he could see. Kanan had no idea how, but he accepted it calmly, as he’d accepted his fate.

His gaze locked onto Hera first-- Hera, clad in an orange prisoner’s jumpsuit, a look of complete horror and fear in her eyes, with the slightest hint of surprise and awe as she looked at him. Kanan took her in, drinking in the very sight of her. She was older than she had been when they’d first met, and had only grown more beautiful. And Kanan had only grown more in love with her.

Behind her, holding her back, was Ezra-- Force, Ezra. He was so tall, so grown-up looking. Kanan was well aware he’d only ever pictured the little boy from Lothal, and he felt pride stirring in his heart. Stay safe, kid, he thought. You know what to do. I love you both.

And so he released his hold on the flames and used all his power and strength to send the ship that held Ezra, Sabine, and Hera flying away from the fuel depot. It would be enough. It had to be enough.

They would be safe. And they would keep fighting. Hera always did.

That was Kanan’s last thought before the flames swallowed him.

But it wasn’t his last thought.

Even as the fire swirled around him, he heard a strange whoosh, and the sound of boots impacting on metal, and suddenly the fire was gone. And Kanan was somewhere else entirely.

“Did it work?”

A young male voice came from behind Kanan, stunned but excited.

“Of course it worked, idiot, he’s not dead and we still exist,” said a dry female voice that sounded… bizarrely familiar. Almost like--

Kanan turned towards the sound and someone tackled him to the ground, slapping a hand over his eyes. “Sorry, sorry-- eyes closed,” the young man ordered. “If you look, I’ll tell Hera.”

“What does that even mean?” Kanan demanded-- although it was a fairly compelling argument. Trying to shove the young man off of him, he said “Who are you? What are you doing?”

“Saving you, you dumb--”

The young man cleared his throat loudly, cutting off the woman. “We were sent here to save your life.”

“What?” Kanan’s jaw dropped, surprise flashing through him. “Wha-- no, I was supposed to die. It had to happen, to save Hera and Ezra and Sabine--”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, the woman said, “They’re FINE, trust me. Well, other than the fact they think you’re dead.”

The young man groaned. “Okay, you should probably stop talking now. I’ll handle this.”

“You’re not much more diplomatic than me!”

“Everyone’s more diplomatic than you, Depa.”

“Depa?” Kanan asked, a frown knitting his forehead.

He heard his two rescuers freeze, and a muttered curse. “Yeah,” the young man said cautiously. “That’s her name.”

“That was my master’s name,” Kanan said, his mind racing. There was no way that could be a coincidence. Sure, there were probably other people in the galaxy named Depa, but--

“You can probably stop sitting on him-- he’ll behave,” Depa said dryly. “Right, Jarrus? That means keep your eyes close, and NO PEEKING or I’ll punch you out.”

“You can’t punch him out,” the young man said with a sigh.

“Why, because he’s an old geezer? I’m not afraid to hit an old man.”

Kanan sensed the young man rolling his eyes. “He’s not even that old right now! Okay, I’m gonna let you up-- please keep your eyes closed.”

The young man scrambled off of him, and Kanan slowly rose to his feet, wincing. He’d been burned, he could feel that much-- his hands, the back of his neck and his face especially. But somehow, impossibly, he was alive.

“I-- thank you,” he said. “I don’t know how or why you saved me, but thank you.”

“Someone had to,” Depa said, her voice surprisingly sincere. “And Force knows you needed help.”

“True,” the young man agreed. “But we don’t have all day here-- we need to get you back.”

“Back?” Kanan asked.

“Back to Hera and everyone else,” the young man elaborated. “If you follow us, we can get you out of here and back to them. They should be expecting you. Hopefully. We’re pretty sure Ezra warned them.”

“Reassuring,” Kanan said, keeping his eyes shut. “Which way are we going? And where are we, exactly?”

“This way,” Depa said, giving his shoulder a slight nudge in the right direction. As Kanan started walking, she added, “And we’re in some dumb alternate dimension.”

“It’s a world between worlds,” the young man corrected from ahead of them. “And it was really hard to get here. You wouldn’t believe all the stuff we had to do to get here. But it led us to where you were, which makes it worth it.”

“Why?” Kanan asked, releasing the question he’d been turning over in his mind. “Why did you come to save me? Why you in particular?”

He heard the young man’s footsteps stutter, like he’d paused in his steps. “Oh. Um…”

“Subtle, Jacen,” Depa said sarcastically.

“Jacen?” Kanan felt a grin cross his face. “So that’s your name.”

Jacen let out a sigh. “Nice one, Depa. Look, D-- Kanan. You’re… really important. To a lot of people. And they couldn’t just lose you if there was something that could be done.”

“So we did it,” Depa said matter of factly. “As you do. Oh, we’re here! This is your stop.”

They came to a halt, and Kanan sensed… something. Like a light at the end of a hallway, beckoning him forward. “And this is where I’m supposed to go?” he said warily. “It’s safe?”

“Trust me,” Jacen said. “She’s on the other side. Hera is. Your family is waiting for you.”

Kanan nodded slowly, his mind spinning. Despite the obvious strangeness of this whole thing, the way it had caught him off guard, there were a few things that he had a strange feeling about. Like he was two steps away from putting something together, something incredibly important. “Wait-- before I go through there. Will I be able to see?”

“I-- oh. No,” Depa said, her voice soft, almost shaken. “You never could after Lothal. That was the last time.”

“Then I at least want to see the faces of the pair that saved my life,” Kanan said. “If you’re alright with it.”

“I’m not sure--” Jacen began.

“Oh, shut up and let him,” Depa said, her voice exasperated. “What’s the worst that could happen? Besides, I-- I want him to.”

There was a short pause, then Jacen sighed. “I know. Me, too. Okay, go ahead.”

Kanan’s eyes flicked open. He was in what looked like outer space-- pure black, only broken up by strange white lines outlining paths. And, every now and then, circular doorways. “Huh,” Kanan murmured, his gaze sweeping across the place. And then it landed on the duo standing in front of him, and his eyes widened in surprise.

They were both a couple years younger than him. Jacen was a tall young man, tan-skinned except where it was green, especially along his pointed ears. His long hair, tied back in a ponytail, and scruffy goatee were a deep shade of green, and his eyes were almost an almost disturbingly familiar shade of turquoise.

Depa was a young Twi’lek woman with green skin, pink patches here and there. Her eyes were brown, and widened slightly with shock as they met his. “He really does have your eyes,” she said, her voice stunned.

“Wow,” Kanan breathed, any doubt in his mind swept away. “Are-- are you two-- Wow. Words fail me.”

Depa let out a snort. “Same here. But about that haircut. Mom was right, it really is awful. Worse than the one Jacen gave himself when he was eleven. It was really bad, be glad you didn’t see it.”

Kanan chuckled, then glanced at Jacen. “I-- and you two came here to save me?”

Jacen shrugged. “We wouldn’t exist if we didn’t. Well, I would, but Depa wouldn’t, and that’s a downside. Kinda.”

Depa punched him in the arm, and Jacen let out a yelp, darting away from her as she took another swing at him, and Kanan could only shake his head because of what he was watching. “This is unbelievable.”

“I mean. Not that unbelievable,” Jacen pointed out, a smile crossing his face that Kanan had seen a thousand times in the seat next to his own.

“Wow. You look… just like your mom. Both of you.”

Jacen’s eyes went wide. “R-really? Um. Everyone says I look like… you.”

“That is Hera Syndulla’s smile right there,” Kanan said, and he knew it to his core. “Looks just like hers. But yeah, I can see our resemblance. Well. For now.”

The smile faded off of Jacen’s face, and he said in a low voice, “We can’t stay.”

Nodding, Kanan said, “I know. I should probably get going, too. Just--” he paused, looking at his children for the last time. “I’m proud of you two already.”

“That is so typical of you,” Depa said, rolling her eyes in a completely Hera movement. “Do you have any idea how many kids you’re gonna adopt? Hint-- it’s a lot.”

“No spoilers,” Jacen ordered. ���We should go. But before we do--” he turned to Kanan. “When the time comes, tell Ezra that he doesn’t have to be you. He has to be him, and no one else.”

“Oh, and don’t worry,” Depa said breezily. “You’ll find him eventually.”

“Wait, what? What does that mean?” Kanan demanded.

“You’re about to find out,” Depa said with a wink, and that, Kanan knew, she’d gotten from him.

Leaning forward, Jacen said, “She’s your most infuriating child. Yes, more so than the Mandalorian.”

Kanan shook his head, grinning. “I can’t wait for you two to come along. I really can’t.”

Shrugging, Depa said, “You might not have to wait that long. Now get out of here, we’ve all got places to be.”

“Right.” Kanan turned towards the doorway, which was a blank white, and glanced back at his kids one more time. “May the Force be with you,” he told them.

“You always say that,” Jacen said with a slight grin. “See you soon, Dad.”

Kanan nodded, then stepped through the doorway.

Everything was dark as he stumbled out into what was some kind of clearing, or something. But he felt the sunlight on his face, and knew why it was. His eyesight was gone again, and he was okay with that.

A shriek cut through his thoughts, and he jerked his head up as someone shouted his name. “Kanan!”

It was Hera, her voice holding shock and joy and love, and Kanan heard her run towards him. But this time, he was running, too, and felt her slam into him. “You’re here,” she choked out, a sob shaking her body. “Ezra was right. I didn’t think--”

Kanan cut her off with a kiss, pulling her closer as she kissed him back. Breaking away from the kiss, he whispered, “I love you, too.”

Hera let out a shaky laugh. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear those words, love.”

“I-- wait.” Kanan froze. “How long was I gone? How long since the fuel depot?” Panic raced through him.

“Only three months,” Hera assured him, clearly catching his fear. “You’ve missed a lot. There’s some things we should talk about.”

“I bet,” Kanan muttered. “Okay, let’s go talk.”

Hera stepped away from him, but caught hold of his hand so she could lead him. “Right this way, dear.”

Kanan relished the sound of her voice as he walked with her, willing to wait through whatever they had to talk about next.

Well. Almost willing. “There’s… one thing that I have to ask you,” he said. “There was this weird thing that happened while I was gone-- it’s a long story. But something that happened made me think-- it might be stupid, but I just need to ask--”

Cutting him off, Hera said, “Just ask, love.”

“Right.” Taking a quick breath, Kanan asked, “Are you… pregnant?”

He felt her stop in her tracks, shock radiating through her. “I--” Hera paused, then let out a sigh. “I was planning on telling you myself, you know. Not sure I should be thanking your Jedi instincts on this one. But… yes. I’m pregnant.”

Holy. Kriff. “I’m gonna be a dad,” Kanan whispered, the words surreal but beautiful. They were real. I actually saw my kids. Which means-- Jacen.

A smile slipping across his face, he bent down and kissed Hera again. He knew things had to have changed, and he had a lot to catch up on. But he was with the woman he loved, and he had a lifetime to look forward to. They could handle it together.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 130

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,820ish

Summary: The battle for the Infinity Stones begins, both on Earth and on Titan.

Previously on Out Of Time…

“I went forward in time to view alternate futures,” Strange panted. “To see all the possible outcomes of the coming conflict.”

“How many did you see?” Star-Lord wonders.

“14,000,605.”

“How many did we win?” Tony asked.

Strange stared intently at Tony for a moment, almost sad like. Before looking past him at Y/N. “One.”

Everyone turned to look where Strange was looking. Y/N was still standing, with green eyes and green energy encircling her head. Tony rushed over, grasping Y/N by the arms.

“Y/N!” Tony called, trying gently to shake her out of whatever was happening. “Come on, honey. Push through!”

“Mr. Stark, what’s happening to her?” Peter asked worriedly. 

“The Time Stone is controlling her,” Strange answered. 

“Y/N, come on!” Tony continued, shaking her again.

Gasping dramatically, Y/N fell forward into Tony. The Time Stone’s energy evaporated into the air as Y/N tried to cling onto Tony.

“It’s okay, I got you,” Tony responded, holding onto Y/N. “I got you.”

From over Tony’s shoulder, Y/N met Strange’s gaze. He knew what she had seen and been told. He shook his head as if to tell her that she couldn’t say anything. She clenched her eyes shut and tried to hold Tony closer. 

“It’s okay, we’re okay,” Tony continued to try and calm Y/N. “I’ve got you.”

“We need a plan,” Y/N whispered. “And fast.” She pulled away, looking into Tony’s eyes. “Before it’s too late.”

~~~

The small team came up with a plan and were all heading for their places. Tony grabbed Y/N’s arm, stopping her, and pulled her in for a deep kiss.

“You are worth more than their lives, you understand?” He whispered. “You do anything to get the Stones and survive.”

“I understand,” she responded with a nod. “The same goes for you.”

“I love you,” he breathed out before pulling her in for another kiss. He was clearly pouring everything into it, like it could be their last. “Say safe.” Then he walked away.

Thanos appeared not long after everyone had gotten into position. It was clear to Y/N that he had used the Space Stone to create a portal to get there. Thanos studied his surroundings, stopping at Maw’s destroyed ship. Strange was sitting on some steps to the side of Thanos, with Y/N hiding behind a post. She had never sensed this many Stones at once. Thanos had successfully retrieved the Reality, Space, Power, and Soul Stones. He only needed two more.

“Oh, yeah, you’re much more of a Thanos,” Strange commented, turning Thanos’ attention to him.

“I take it the Maw is dead,” Thanos stated, taking a few steps towards Strange. “This day extracts a heavy toll. Still, he accomplished his mission.”

“You may regret that. He brought you face-to-face with the Master of the Mystic Arts.”

“And where do you think he brought you?”

“Let me guess. Your home?”

Thanos smiled reminiscently. “It was. And it was beautiful.” 

Thanos curled his gauntleted fist, activating the Reality Stone. As buzz formed in Y/N’s head as the planet changed to look like what it was before it was destroyed. Green lawns, intact buildings, water-filled ponds. There were strolling citizens and structures hovering above the surface.

“Titan was like most planets,” Thanos continued. “Too many mouths, and not enough to go around. And when we faced extinction, I offered a solution.”

“Genocide,” Strange stated.

“But at random, dispassionate, fair to rich and poor alike. They called me a madman. And what I predicted came to pass.” Relaxing his fist, the Reality Stone stopped glowing and the illusion faded.

“Congratulations. You're a prophet.”

“I’m a survivor.”

“Who wants to murder trillions.”

“With all six stones, I could simply snap my fingers, and they would all cease to exist. I call that... mercy.”

Strange stood up. “And then what?”

“I finally rest... and watch the sun rise on a grateful universe. The hardest choices require the strongest wills.”

Summoning his magical shields, Strange entered a fight pose. “I think you'll find our will equal to yours.”

“Ours?”

Looking up, Thanos saw a chunk of wreckage descending rapidly on him, too rapidly to react. He was quickly crushed by it.

“Piece of cake, Quill,” Tony commented, flying in.

Triggering his mask, Quill followed. “Yeah, if your goal was to piss him off!” He responded.

The wreckage on top of Thanos erupted in purple and he bellowed in rage. Using the Reality Stone, he turned the hovering fragments into a flock of bats, swarming Iron Man with them and driving him back through the ruins. Spider-Man then webbed Thanos’ eyes and swung in to kick him in the face. At the same time, Drax appeared, blades in both hands. He knee-slid behind Thanos and cut the back of the villain’s knee.

Dr. Strange jumped through a portal and summons a sword of magic energy. He dueled with Thanos as Drax attacked similarly on the other side. Thanos punched Drax through a ruined wall, then shattered Strange’s blade and tore the webs from his eyes. He advanced on Dr. Strange and kicked at him, but Strange’s shield absorbed the damage and the cloak lifted Strange from the ground.

Star-Lord began shooting Thanos from behind. Thanos used the Power Stone to shoot balls of energy at Star-Lord while Star-Lord leapt towards Thanos using magical platforms thrown in his path by Strange. The las one was placed above Thanos’ head and Star-Lord flipped over him and slapped a bomb onto the Titan’s back. Star-Lord sticked his landing, disengaged his helmet and flipped Thanos the bird.

“Boom!” Quill exclaimed, falling backward into a portal.

The explosion from the bomb on Thanos’ back, knocked the Titan to his knees, dazing him briefly. Y/N was still behind the post, breathing heavily cause of the Stones. The plan was for Y/N to stay there until called in. Strange and Tony were both at the understanding that nothing could happen to her. She watched as Strange’s clock swooped off his shoulders and wrapped itself tightly around Thanos’ armored hand. Strange then started to throw portals everywhere, Spider-Man leaping through them to attack Thanos.

“Magic!” Spider-Man exclaimed as he put Thanos in the head before disappearing in a portal and reappearing above. “More magic!” He yanked the Titan’s head down hard, then leapt into another portal. “Magic with a kick!” Spider-Man delivered a flying kick before disappearing and reappearing once again. “Magic with a—“

Before Spider-Man could finish, Thanos turned and grabbed him from the air. He threw Spider-Man to the ground, with a hand around his neck.

“Insect!” Thanos yelled.

Thanos threw Spider-Man at Dr. Strange, knocking them both down. As Thanos tore the cloak away from his hand, Iron Man began bombarding him with fiery explosives. Thanos sucked all the flame into the gauntlet using the Power Stone and fired it in a stream at Iron Man. Tony was hit dead on, sending him plowing through a massive fallen machine far away.

Y/N had had enough of sitting on the sidelines. Appearing in front of Thanos, her fists were glowing purple.

“What have we here?” Thanos asked, clearly unimpressed.

“Stop hurting the people I care about,” Y/N growled.

Pushing her hands forwards, she blasted Thanos back. Regaining himself, Y/N marched forward, hands glowing purple once again. It was then that something on his gauntlet caught his eye. The Power Stone was glowing, yet not because of him. Y/N blasted him again, pushing him further into the debris. 

“Impossible!” Thanos exclaimed, rising from the rumble. “You’re channeling the Stones. How?”

“Does it really matter?” Y/N retorted.

She fired another beam at him, only for him to clench his fist and fire one in return. Both beams were from the Power Stone. They collided in the middle, sending both attackers crashing backwards. Tony quickly flew in and picked Y/N up, flying her to safety as Thanos fired at them.

“Stay here!” Tony ordered, dropping Y/N carefully. “Wait for the signal!”  

“Tony! I could—“

“No! Stay there!"

Spider-Man leaped from behind while Thanos concentrated his fire on Iron Man. He webbed the gauntlet and dropped down in front of Thanos, pulling hard. Thanos yanked on the web-line, pulling the teenage towards him and punching him on his way past. The Titan then teared the webbing free of the gauntlet just in time for a small spaceship to attempt to crash-land on him. The ship dragged Thanos along for a distance, burying him under debris. Thanos stood just as the pilot jumped in a great arc to punch him, landing in front of him with an energy-blade at the ready.

“Well, well,” Thanos chuckled.

“You should have killed me,” the mostly robotic woman replied.

“It would’ve been a waste of parts!”

The robotic woman ran at Thanos, attacking him. “Where’s Gamora?!”

Thanos punched her away. Dr. Strange reappeared and used his magic to pin the gauntlet, pulling Thanos’ fingers open and trying to pry the gauntlet off his hand. The Titan tried to pull free just at Drax slid in. Drax kicked the Titan’s knee, knocking him off balance, before wrapping himself around Thanos’ kneeling leg.

Star-Lord shot an electric trap onto the ground, the tangle-field holding down Thanos’ unarmored hand. Spider-Man swung in, webbed Thanos’ chest and then wrapped it around behind him. Peter used his spider legs to anchor himself into the ground. 

Dr. Strange opened a portal straight above Thanos, which Mantis dropped throw. She landed on the Titan’s shoulders and placed her hand on his temples. He bellowed as she tried to put him under.

“Is he under?” Tony asked. “Don’t let up.”

“Be quick,” Mantis said, starting to cry. “He is very strong.”

 “Y/N!” Tony shouted, beginning to pull on the gauntlet. “You’re up!”

Y/N portaled over there. She studied the Titan in front of her before choosing to focus on the Stones. She needed to get them off the gauntlet while they tried to get the gauntlet off his hand.

“Parker, help!” Tony ordered. “Get out here.” Peter dropped his web-line and hurried over to help Tony. “She can’t hold him much longer. Let’s go.”

Star-Lord flied over to join the others and stood in front of Thanos, tauntingly. “I thought you’d be harder to catch,” he said. “For the record, this was my plan. Not so strong now, huh? Where is Gamora?”

“My Gamora…” Thanos mumbled.

“No, bull-shit. Where is she?”

Mantis gasped in shock. “He is in anguish,” she told everyone.

“Good.”

“He… he mourns,” Mantis cried.

“What does this monster have to mourn?” Drax laughed.

“Gamora,” the robotic woman stated solemnly.

“What?” Quill questioned.

“Its…” Y/N whispered, feeling Thanos’ thoughts as she tried to focus on the Stones, who were fighting her back. “It’s his…”

“No! Y/N! Focus on the Stones!” Tony interrupted. “You can do this! Destiny and all that crap, right?”

“Nebula,” Quill pressed the robotic woman for an explanation.

“He took her to Vormir,” Nebula said in sadness. “He came back with the Soul Stone… but she didn’t.”

Tony quickly de-helmeted. “Okay, Quill, you gotta cool it right now, you understand?” Tony tried to get Star-Lord’s attention as the man slowly turned to Thanos. “Don't, don't, don't engage, we've almost got this off!”

“Tell me she’s lying,” Quill demanded. “Asshole! Tell me you didn’t do it!”

“I… had… to….” Thanos slowly got out.

“No, you didn’t! No, you didn’t!” Quill pistol whipped Thanos twice in the face, causing Mantis to let go in pain. “NO, YOU DIDN’T!”

“Quill!” Tony shouted. He leapt for Star-Lord’s arm, re-helmeting and leaving Spider-Man with the gauntlet. “Hey, stop! Hey, stop! Stop! Hey, stop! Stop!”

“It’s coming! It’s coming!” Peter announced. “It’s coming! I got it! I got it—“

Suddenly Thanos woke completely, now truly furious. As he head-butted Mantis and grabbed the gauntlet before it could fully leave his hand, the Soul Stone flew off of it and into Y/N’s palm. Her hand firmly enclosed around it before anyone could notice. She had never held a Stone like this before, she could feel every ounce of energy it was pouring into her.

As the fight ensued, Tony grabbed Y/N and flew her behind a large wall. His helmet disappeared as he searched her. He cupped her cheeks.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“I’m fine,” she responded with a nod. “And look…” she opened her hand and the Soul Stone hovered over her palm.

“That’s my girl. Now, you need to go.”

“What?”

“You need to create a portal and go find Steve and the others.”

“No. I can’t leave you,” she responded, a lump forming in her throat as she shook her head. “Plus, Earth’s too far.”

“Yes, you can.” He tried to give her an encouraging smile. “Thanos has the Space Stone still, channel it.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” Tony pulled Y/N in for a tender kiss. “I love you. So much.”

“Tony—“

“I know I hurt you and that we’ve both been stupid. And I know that you haven’t made your decision yet. But I love you. Forever and always. If we survive this, I promise to spend every day showing you just how much I love you.” He pulled her in for one last kiss. “Now, go.” He stood up, walking backwards, heading back into the fight. “Go!”

Tears falling to her cheeks, Y/N took a shaky breath as she watched Tony fly back into the fight. Cupping the Soul Stone between her hands, she closed her eyes and focused on the Space Stone.

~~~

Shuri and Vision had been left in the lab with only a few guards. Shuri was frantically working to reprogram Vision so that he could live without the Mind Stone. But it wasn’t going fast enough. A giant alien killed one of the guards just outside the lab, alerting Shuri to an issue. She began to hastily disconnect her equipment from Vision. The guards engaged with the alien, only to be sent skidding across the floor. 

After Shuri finished her shutdowns, she grabbed one of her sonic panther paws and fired at the alien. The guards got back up and attacked again as she did so. The alien sent the guards and Shuri through the balcony railing and onto the main lab floor. 

Y/N appeared, cheeks still fresh with tears, in the lab. She quickly took in what was happening and ran to help Shuri off the floor.

“Y/N?” Shuri questioned. “Where have you been?”

“Long story,” Y/N answered. “But I brought something with me.” She revealed the Soul Stone in her palm. “I need Wanda. We can destroy it together.”

Before Shuri could respond, they heard Vision cry out. 

“Here!” Shuri said, placed a comm in Y/N’s hand. “You’ll need this.”

With a small, grateful smile, Y/N put the comms device in her ear and shoved the Stone in her pocket. Running up to the balcony part where Vision was suppose to be, she heard glass breaking. Reaching the floor, Y/N saw that the alien and Vision had crashed out of the window and down the face of the mountain.

“Guys, we got a Vision situation here!” Sam warned over the comms.

“Somebody get to Vision!” Steve ordered.

“I got him!” Bruce responded.

“Not if I get there first,” Y/N replied.

“Y/N?!” A chorus of voices filled her ear.

“Doll, where are you?” Bucky immediately asked. “And where the hell have you been?”

“Not really the time,” she answered. 

“Is Tony with you?” Rhodey asked.

“He’s keeping Thanos occupied. The more important thing though is we now have two Stones instead of just one.”

“You have another Stone?” Steve asked. “Destroy it! Now!”

“I’m gonna need Wanda’s help.”

“On my way,” Wanda replied, but crashes were heard from her end.

“Just try Y/N!” Steve continued. “Do it!”

“I don’t—“

“Y/N,” Bucky calmly called. “You can do this.”

Y/N let out a shaky breath and slowly got onto her knees. With a trembling hand, she retrieved the Soul Stone from her pocket. The Soul Stone floated above her palm, effortlessly. She then moved her hands and the Stone so that it was floating in-between them. Focusing her power onto the Stone, she closed her eyes. Her hands were shaking at the power coursing through him and out onto the Stone. Eventually, her hands calmed and her power stopped. Slowly, Y/N opened her eyes. Only to quickly realize, she wasn’t in Wakanda anymore.

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2​​. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[lucycola]

The Lone Survivor: Part 2

Spock x Fem!Reader

Premise: Fem!Reader accidentally bonds with Spock when rescued from her own starship crash. The Golden Trio realize the footage from the wreck could wrongfully incriminate the reader. They attempt to find a way out of this. PART ONE HERE

SLOW BURN. Eventual smut in later parts. More Bones dialogue than probably necessary but WHATEVER. Fatherly Bones. There will be more one on one Reader and Spock in part three. Right now it plays like a normal episode with build up because I’m stubborn. 

WARNINGS:  Movie amnesia, sexual themes if you squint, mentions of death, and implied one-sided matrimony.

Part 2: The Night We Met I Knew I Needed You So

There was no mistaking the final moments illustrated in the found footage from the Calvary. It was you assaulting the crew on the bridge-you setting a course straight to destruction on Toravalve 9.

However, Mister Spock had disagreed. He had reached into your mind and saw you in your own eyes. It couldn’t have been you.

After carrying you back to the medbay you were put safely back in your bed with a Doctor McCoy who hovered over you like a disgruntled mother bear. With the tricorder at your forehead you pleaded with him to relax. 

Captain Kirk had been summoned to hear what you both, or rather, Mister Spock had to say. For some stranger reason Spock omitted the existence of the orange tape. He deliberated his own findings via meld instead. 

“A copy of sorts, Captain.”

“And you’re sure you saw the Lieutenant looking...at her own self?”

“As unlikely as it may seem, it is was I saw. Although it was also demonstrated that the Lieutenant received a severe head injury before witnessing her own self attack the crew members.”

“And you’re sure it wasn’t some kind of...” Kirk deliberated for a moment, “... out of body experience.”

“Also unlikely. Although it is perceivable Lieutenant L/N maybe have suffered delusions after cranial trauma I possess a suspicion that an illusion was made unto the Lieutenant and the crew.”

Kirk glanced at you for a moment and back to Spock, quizzically at first, but then with a dashing smirk. “A hunch, Spock? How very...human.”

Spock quirked a brow, hands still stonily behind his back, “All endeavors begin with a hypothesis.”

“You believe me,” you murmured, from your bed still although no longer in your white, medbay gown you were graciously presented with black Starfleet fatigues. Nurse Chapel had gently maneuvered your unruly waves into two pleats that were coming undone slowly.

A stark contrast to the pristine, polished head science officer.

The fingers on Spock’s right hand flexed at the sound of your voice.

He only turned his head to look at you, “Empirical data is what needs to be obtained-whether I believe what memories are buried in your subconscious is incidental.”

“They still don’t feel real,” you admitted. Not even your name felt real.

“Such an admission will not help your case and I advise you keep that opinion to yourself, Lieutenant.”

You felt like he was chiding you. Your ground your jaw slightly and you knew he could feel it: the aggravation, the impatience. Fear.

His right fingers flexed again, but his expression, unchanging as ever, gave nothing away.

The electric pool of warmth in the back of your mind hushed you, told you to remain calm. Diplomatic.

How could looking at your own self feel real? ‘She’ seemed so real. You had walked around the corner and met yourself, squaring you up instantly. She lunged for you and you wrestled with her, shocked at the fact that you had your own hands around your throat. They weren’t your hands. It was an imposter. 

How? That was the real question. 

“How do we find proof then, Mister Spock?” Kirk asked, reinserting himself.

“We locate the imposter and confirm my hypothesis.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Kirk replied.

“Indeed it will not be so. Commander Craft is aware of the meld that took place and will order me to testify my findings against the lieutenant. Until the Lieutenant’s sanity can be declared-”

“I’m sure I can help with that,” the doctor said, almost appearing out of nowhere.

“What is left is concrete evidence,” Spock added.

“The imposter,” Kirk finished, nodding. 

“Who’s Commander Craft?” you asked.

He turned to look at you. You were made to feel the oblivious child with everyone in the room talking about you. However, you listened and you absorbed. You were careful with your input. Listen first, talk later, you thought to yourself. The presence in the back of your mind hummed in monotonic approval as if to say, good girl.

You wondered what those words tasted like on Spock’s lips. You shuddered in embarrassment and turned your head away.

Spock coughed uncharacteristically, “Commander Craft is the elected official heading the investigation crew from the Federation. We were contacted yesterday and were to present a full report of our findings and happenings.”

Which included the bond. That detail in itself was still above you, not fully explained nor understood. You could feel it for what it was and knew he was there. Not why or how, however. 

 “We must garner more time,” Spock continued to his captain, “And possibly keep myself from testifying.”

“We could declare you insane,” the doctor quipped earning another brow arch from his opposing.

“You’re asking for a loophole,” Kirk stated.

“Essentially, Captain.”

Kirk seemed to know there was more to it, the way he pursed his lips and put his fists on his hips. You knew yourself that if Spock testified against you with what he saw in the meld then there was no evidence against you truly-just what you yourself witnessed. However, Spock would be asked to tell the whole truth and that included the tape. If you were deemed crazy then your own experiences would be null and void.

Did Kirk already know about the tape?

Kirk sighed,” Spock, I...we’d be misleading not only Starfleet, but the Federation. This isn’t the first time you’ve-”  he glanced at you, “-taken the unorthodox route to obtain justice.”

“Then I am asking for your trust, Captain.”

Kirk’s eyes narrowed then softened. He relented and with a sturdy tone which meant business as he relayed, “I suppose you already a loophole in mind then?”

“Indeed, Captain.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

Spock paused, fighting to look at you.

“Well, aren’t you gonna tell us?” the doctor asked.

“Proposals are not so elementary to make on Vulcan, even when it is logical...but also yet not as it could fare unfavorable circumstances. Especially if one party is unwilling.”

It took Kirk a moment, and even the doctor even longer.

“You mean...?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“You’re willing to marry her so you don’t have to testify?” he asked incredulously.

You were stupefied, impressed, but stupefied. The stoic Vulcan could play dirty. An actual proposal.

“You’re going to marry her?” Bones asked, mortified, “She’s a person...not a pawn! This is her life we’re meddling with. Marriage is a serious thing-”

“You’ll find, Doctor, that I am quite serious.”

“You could wreck her life.”

“I intend on saving it.”

Spock, your heart breathed.

“It seems like a reach for you, Spock,” Kirk said, “They would never believe the both of you, even if Y/N did agree.”

“It will be most believable as the Lieutenant and I have already made a bond.”

Silence befell everyone.

“You can’t be serious,” the doctor said finally, a fierce protectiveness in his voice. “At a time like this-”

“It was not intended as I am careful to shield my mind when partaking tactility with other forms-but, she called to me.”

And he had found you in the dark.

“She accepted it-although it is possible that may be due to the extreme duress she was suffering.”

“And you were there to save her,” Bones finished, a grave distaste in his voice.

“Such a bond can be mediated by a healer with moderate difficult just as a Terran divorce can be secured.”

It was a slap to the face. He was as willing to ‘save’ you as he was to dump you and leave you for dead. Red hot turmoil threatened in your core and you clenched your blankets. What was the point then?

Your crew was dead, your reputation tarnished, and everyone thought you were a murderer.

Let me die, you thought, just let me die.

“Certainly not,” Spock said quietly. Both the Captain and the Doctor eyed him wearily as this random statement.

“So you...negating your-”

“No, sir. I am simply waiting for Lieutenant L/N’s input on the matter.”

“There’s no way in hell she’d agree to this. The bond is clearly one-sided, Spock. How could you be so irresponsible?” Bones chided. 

“A explanation escapes me.” He was still looking at you with smoldering eyes, with bright stars dancing behind them. Cold, but fierce.

What other shot did you have? How else could you bide time while searching for this monster? You wanted to give up. It would be easy.

Kirk leaned in to his second in command and suggested softly, “Perhaps you should ask more properly, Mister Spock. She is a lady. Bones is right. It’s her life.”

“Lieutenant-”

Kirk elbowed him.

“Y/N,” he corrected himself, “Will-”

“Yes,” you blurted in a hushed voice, “I will marry you, Mister Spock.”

x

You were left in your bed again under strict supervision this time. You reveled in the shock of what you’d just agreed to, and even the shock of the situation in its entirety. Rediscovering the monster that claimed your crew and your identity was still fresh and seeing it through your own eyes again with the meld drained the life out of you. You were exhausted, but your mind still raced. ‘It’ was on the ship-it had to be. They didn’t find a copy of you or anyone else in the wreckage. You wondered how recognizable some of your crewmates were and you had to still your frantic thoughts. 

“What ever is going on up there it needs to stop. You heart rate is very high.” Doctor McCoy was already readying a hypo. 

“That...thing. It might be here-”

“We’re on high alert, looking for any copies of ourselves. It’s not the first time this kind of thing has happened,” he tried to assure you.

“There are no red lights.”

“They get annoying after awhile. Whatever it is, it’s damn good at hiding. But we’ll flush it out. The Captain has a plan.”

“Did Mister Spock tell you the imposter can read your memories? That’s how it tricked me. Did he tell the captain?” you asked, wring your hands with the blanket. 

“Your guess is better than mine.”

You thought back to Spock’s omission to the orange tape. Always flipping back and forth between elusive affection and monotonous professionalism. Marry me. Divorce after. 

“He’s hard to place sometimes.”

“And you agreed to marry him.”

“I did,” you blurted stubbornly. “We’re bonded.”

Bones suddenly became eye level with you, bracing both hands on the rail. “But do you know what that even means?”

You arched a brown similar to Vulcan fashion, “Do you, good doctor?”

Bones shook his head and instead asked, “Sleep now or later? Does it help with the nightmares?”

“Yes, I think so. Now, I think. Doctor?”

“Yes, kitty?”

“Thankyou.”

x

Sleep was apart of the healing process and being roused from it interrupted that. That was at least what Bones tried to argue when the captain requested your presence in the conference room. Flanked by your fiancé and the kindly captain himself you were expected to hold an interview of sorts with Commander Craft via telecom before his arrival at the crash site. Several ships had already come to help clean up. 

“What am I supposed to say?” you half pleaded with them, “I’m not good at lying.”

“You do not have to be deceitful. However, if you find yourself under duress the commander may suspect a guilt as I had sensed upon our initial meeting,” Spock replied, one arm linked on your good side. 

Your other arm supported a crutch when had a nervous hand floating behind it via the captain. 

Kirk shot a reassuring look your way. “I recommend the truth. Tell him what you told me, and you’ll be fine. He’s a bit of a stickler for rules and he’s tough on the stand-”

“Jesus,” you muttered. 

“Or...a bit of theatrics couldn’t hurt if you get too overwhelmed. You did just lose your crew.” 

“How could I forget?” Your lip quivered. 

You three paused at the door. 

“I trust my first officer, Y/N,” Kirk turned to face you, “As unorthodox as this has become, I put trust into his melds and by what he has told me you didn’t do anything wrong. That thing-that monster did.”

You couldn’t stop the tears dribbling. “Captain, I let my crew die.”

“Any death having occurred was unintentional on your part, Lieutenant, ”Spock said in his chilly tone, “As was demonstrated in your memory you tired to apprehend and fend off the creature, but to no avail. You did everything in your power. The human emotional phenomena your are experiencing is common upon singular entities having being spared from genocide.”

“That is?” Kirk asked. 

“Survivor’s guilt,” you sighed, finishing the statement for you fiancé. 

x

Commander Craft was not unkind, nor did he smile. He was neither young or old and his questions were fairly basic as the captain’s were three days earlier. You recounted all you could remember, and it was stressed by you and the captain that you had lost most of your general memory due to head trauma. Whether he seemed convinced was unknown to you. You tried to hold back in your distress. The warmth in the back of your mind wrapped around the little knot that pain and anxiety was birthed. It was squeezed it slowly, like the grasp of a hand. You delivered your answers calmly. 

“The double of yourself, you saw. Did you see it transform from your father to yourself?” the commander asked.

“No sir.”

“Have you seen a copy of yourself since you boarded the Enterprise?”

“No sir.”

“And no foreign entity has been detected on the ship?”

“No sir,” the captain replied. 

“Mmm,” the commander paused for the first time in what seemed like hours. “L/N, had you ever experiences delusions or hallucinations before?”

“I don’t remember.”

“And did you experience the trauma to your head before or after you saw yourself sabotaging the ship?”

“I...” you glanced, “I’m not sure. After?”

“Do you remember hitting your head at all?”

“I remember the copy throwing me hard against the wall and everything going black.” You tried to strengthen your voice, but it kept cracking. You heart continued to race. “And-”

It flashed. 

“When I let my father on the ship. I went black there too. But I’m not sure if I hit my head that time.”

“And Mister Spock you were able to witness what Lieutenant L/N saw?”

“Affirmative.”

“But...through her point of view.”

Fuck. You had a feeling he would try to pull the crazy card. 

“Were there any observation tapes recovered from the crash?”

“My  crew obtained few, but to my knowledge they are still processing them,” the captain answered smoothly. 

“Has any other information been made available to any of you?”

You could feel the edges of your vision blacken. You couldn’t make eye contact with him. Cold sweat had broken from your brow.  A cold, steady hand placed itself to your brow. The natural warmth on your mind shimmered. 

“She has a fever, Captain.”

“I won’t tolerate any nonsense, Lieutenant-”

“Commander, she has just lost four-hundred members of her family to a people-eating imposter!” Kirk bellowed lowly, “She’s kept it together well so far. I commend her efforts. You have the wrong idea about her.”

“Until I can find proof of this ‘imposter’ and until her psyche can be cleared by one of our doctors then we’ll see. This isn’t the first time the Federation has had to deal with the Enterprise’s shenanigans.”

“People eating?” you whispered in disbelief.  Oh my god. 

Spock caught on to Kirk’s unnecessary honesty. “It was discovered the imposter’s prime directive was to use the Calvary’s crew as sustenance.”

You toppled forwards and were caught and cradled by your fiancé. 

“Take her to the medbay, Mister Spock,” Kirk ordered. 

“Call for the doctor. I am not taking my eyes off her until we arrive!” the commander snapped. 

“By the time Doctor McCoy arrives she will succumb to shock. I must attend to my t’hy’la in the most logical and efficient manner possible.”  

Kirk fought the need to smile, not realizing that your theatrics weren’t really theatrics. 

x

PART THREE

[hello-nichya-here]

Why the ATLA Comics Suck

Here is my merger attempt to explain why the ATLA comics suck. Please tell me if I missed anything or if you disagreed with any of my points.

Writing everyone out of Zuko's life so he would go to Ozai willingly and use his advice, despite Zuko making Aang promise to kill him if he ever starts acting like Ozai.

Making Aang promise to kill Zuko and almost follow through with it until Katara stops him.

FL Zuko and Aang “convincing" Kuei to allow the oldest FN colonies to become independent, despite being dominated by FN colonials, just to keep families “together” despite separating families due to creating new borders/nation-states. It is implied Kuei never got reparations (or at least adequate reparations) and so the loss of trillions of dollars of land/taxes partially motives his daughter and Kuvira in LOK.

Makes everyone act stupid so Azula could go on The Search free and unbound, constantly act a menace thanks to her psychotic breaks since no one asks her what she is hallucinating about, nearly succeed in committing matricide so she can use a letter (more details below) to overthrow Zuko, and then allow her to escape into a dangerous forest without giving proper chase (ex. have Aang use AS Seismic Sense, call in June or Toph or just have Zuko run after her in the beginning).

Zuko fails to station guards at Azula's asylum, allowing her to break out her fellow asylum mates (or at least Zirin) without Zuko ever finding out.

Mai finding out about the existence of the New Ozai Society (and the fact that her father is the leader) but not telling Zuko till Zuko has almost been killed and his half-sister (along with her bro) have been kidnapped by Azula and said mental asylum escape(es) who are working with the New Ozai Society.

Mai trusting Ty Lee's "aura sense" in order to gauge the trustworthiness of a New Ozai Society pasty she is dating in order to get intel despite already knowing who their leader is and at least one of their hideouts.

Mai initially honeypots said pasty also to get back at Zuko, but eventually falls for him but he breaks up with since it is painfully obvious that she still simps for Zuko, despite Zuko not really working on any of the flaws that caused Mai to break with him in The Promise.

Zuko trying to get into Mai's pants while searching for Azula's terrorist cell, despite the fact it is largely his fault that Azula is free and Mai and Ty Lee are rightfully fearing for their lives as well as for Tom-Tom's.

Azula getting a very unjustified/unearned power-boost that allows her to slap all of the non-Avatar State powered main characters without really trying once she regains her "sanity."

Azula regaining her "sanity" but decides on a 148D plan to make Zuko into a tyrant when there are better ways of doing so like becoming his advisor.

Ursa telling Zuko to never forget who he is but mind wiping herself of her time at the palace despite the fact that she loses the memory of the kids she supposedly loves and adores.

Ursa writing a letter saying that Zuko isn't Ozai's kid. Ursa knows that she and Zuko only have value if Zuko and Azula are Ozai's kids so if Ozai was smart, he could have used the letter to kill them off. Moreover, it makes Ozai stupid; instead of burning/banishing Zuko or trying to kill Zuko on DoBS, he could have released the letter to the public, essentially disinheriting Zuko without ever getting his hands dirty.

Western-style straight jackets and mental asylums; modern wheelchairs and forklifts.

Sokka getting reduced to comedic relief for the most part and Toph's power level being inconsistently portrayed in order to maintain tension in the various plots she is involved in.

Making the Southern Water Tribe look racist for being suspicious of their Norther brothers, and Kuei and Zuko when the North and EK allowed the FN to genocide their water benders without helping them and Zuko being the leader of a newly post-imperalist nation that he was an important member of before his defection. Moreover, when it is revealed that the North wants to essentially colonize the South for its oil.

Ursa being able to make a mega op poison on command and short notice with materials easily found in the palace but never thinking to use it on Azulon and Ozai until Ozai is going to kill Zuko at Azulon's command.

Never explaining how Zuko managed to make Azula a non-entity in Fire Nation politics; how he managed to make amends to Kyoshi Island to the point the other Kyoshi Warriors were ok with supporting his regime, let alone becoming his bodyguards; and whether or not he managed to help all the people Azula banished.

Aang almost getting killed by some mental asylum escapees; more generally The Gaang constantly suffering the worf effect so they don't stomp every Comics!antagonists like they should based on their show feats.

Never seeing Zuko find out what happened to his ship crew and whether or not decided to ever honor those who were killed by Koizila.

Not touching or trying to resolve the lingering plot threads in the TV show: Hama, Long Feng, and the rogue/ banished Dai Li. Especially since bloodbending eventually becomes common enough that Katara got it banned and the Dai Li are back defending Ba Sing Se during Korra’s era. Like how did bloodbending get spread when Hama was last seen locked up again, Katara doesn’t seem like the person to teach it to others, and it doesn’t seem that people are likely to come up with it on their own due to not being in the same desperate situation as Hama? Did Long Feng survive the coup attempt? And if so what is his plan to take back power of the Dai Li and/or The Earth Kingdom? Is he going to try to take revenge on the Dangerous Ladies, Zuko, and The Gaang for ruining him? And why would Kuei and/or his daughter ever be ok with reinstating the organization that not only betrayed their own country but was also ok with their own countrymen being genocided?

Never seeing someone recognize General Iroh in The Jasmine Dragon and have Iroh explain why it was a good idea to set up shop in the city he besieged for years. Especially when it reeks of economic imperialism and he never actually made amends to the people he had hurt (Earth Kingdom commoners). And point that he has better things to do like actually mentor his inadequately prepared and way over his head nephew in statecraft.

-----

Just a few notes:

1 - It is at least sort of implied Ursa killed Azulon with poison in the show as well, which is why no one can prove he was assassinated despite how awfully convenient it was that Ursa disappeared literally the night he died.

2 - The bending could be inconsistent on the show itself (though NOHING compares to how insane the change on what the characters could or could not do was on the comics)

3 - Iroh, by himself, opening a a tea-shop in a city he once attacked is not enough to make it economic imperialism. And while I too would have preferred him to stay in the Fire Nation, at least for a little while, to help Zuko, the comics can't be blamed for that since the show itself explicitly says that Iroh is going back to Ba Sing Se (mostly because of the trope that the father figure needs to either die or part ways with the hero to show that the character is now grown and more mature, meaning they "no longer need" said father figure to stick around)

But, yeah, the comics are fucking terrible.

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

ohh i saw your answer about the sequels of star wars. id love to read you tear through the whole trilogy

Well, I’ve avoided this ask long enough. Part of the reason is this is really a huge topic, far too much for one ask, so I’m going to have to do this at a very high level.

In short, the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy is what one gets when you slap together the goal of selling merchandise and making tons of money, being as risk averse as humanly possible, adding a handful of warring directors with incredibly different visions, and having virtually no imagination when it comes to the imagining and writing of characters.

And we get this beautiful, awful, franchise that for reasons beyond me people seem to actually like (though interestingly, no one seems to like all of it, they may actually like one or two of the films, but no one says all three are actually in any realm of good).

With that, let’s begin.

The Force Awakens

For me this is easily the most tolerable of the sequel trilogy: it’s not great, it’s not terrible. It’s thoroughly watchable, you can be taken along for the movie’s journey and not raise your eyebrows too much at the action and leave the theater feeling this maybe wasn’t a complete waste of your time.

There’s a good reason for that. That reason is called the most blatant form of plagiarism I have ever seen in cinema in my life.

“The Force Awakens” is just “A New Hope” wearing a mustache. Only, it’s one of those cheap mustaches you get from a party store that, if you stare at it too long, just looks like the most false and awful thing you’ve ever seen. The mustache actively makes it worse. “The Force Awakens” is “A New Hope”, but worse.

Seriously, every major character, every major plot point, every major scene I can go directly back to “A New Hope”.

Our story begins when the Resistance, at great cost to our valiant heroes including torture at the hands of the Emperor’s second in command, sends a file out into the wilderness to be received by his people. This file contains plans for the Death Star.

The film then focuses on Luke, er Rey, getting involved in the Resistance, boarding the Death Star, and successfully destroying at the same time even at the lost of a beloved mentor that she just met (trading in Obi-Wan for Han Solo). 

Our evil empire is run by an evil emperor who is so evil he sits in a chair, is served by very Moth Tarkin-esque human storm troopers, and has a second in command who revels in the Darth Vader get up (for no other reason that it makes him feel cool but we’ll get into this).

It’s “A New Hope”. Rey is Luke, Han Solo is Obi-Wan, Poe is a kind of Han Solo, Kylo Ren is Vader, Snoke is Palpatine, Hux is Tarkin, BB-8 is R2-D2, etc.

“But that’s not terrible,” you say, “I liked A New Hope?”

First, it is terrible, it gives a very bad sign of where the sequel trilogy is headed and is just lazy writing. It means that those who produced this franchise were so terrified of taking risks, of possibly ending up mocked as the prequels were, that they will deliver exactly what the original trilogy was. And what’s that? Uh, evil empires, scrappy desert kids, AND MORE DEATH STARS!

That brings us to point number two, the world of Star Wars after the events of the original trilogy shouldn’t support such things. And, if it does, my god what a bleak existence this place has turned into.

The First Order being able to rise easily from the Empire’s remains means that Luke accomplished nothing. Anakin sacrificed himself and had his moment of redemption for nothing. There was no happy ending to the Original Trilogy, our heroes failed miserably, and there is no indication that our new band of heroes can possibly succeed in their place. (More on this as the movies progress).

We now are in a galaxy where this new Republic is so pathetic that Leia doesn’t even give it the time of day and builds her own private army to battle the Empire. The First Order is able to not only rebuild a massive army by raiding villages on many different worlds and stealing children and do so successfully for at least ten years but is able to build a Death Star bigger than any we’ve ever seen before. 

And the movie tries to convince us these are completely new problems, that Luke Skywalker is a hero (remember this is TFA, not TLJ yet), and that somehow these things just sprung up out of nowhere. BUT YEAH, RESISTANCE, WOO!

As for Rey, she’s like... a worse version of Luke. Her only motivation through the entire series is her trauma at being abandoned by her parents. That’s it, there’s nothing else to her, nothing else she ever wants or feels conflicted by. She struggles with the dark side because... the dark side? Genetics? Unclear? She’s absurdly, ridiculously, powerful in a way that’s acknowledged but never that acknowledged (we’ll get into this) and the movies just fail to sell me on her in any way.

Honestly, an easy fix for me would have just been making Rey a much younger character. I could believe a fourteen-year-old having stayed in the desert, scrounging for scraps, believing her parents are coming back every day now. As a twenty-something year old... It starts getting hard to believe she never left. (Also, this gets the benefit of getting rid of Reylo, which is always a plus for me).

As for Kylo Ren, I legitimately walked out of TFA thinking he was supposed to be comic relief. He’s what happens when someone desperately wants a likable, redeemable, villain and we get... Well, as a reminder his opening scene is one of genocide: he pillages and destroys a town with no regret and brutally tortures a man for information. We’re told he’s like this “because evil evil Snoke” and that may well be but throughout the film (and the series) it becomes clear that Kylo Ren’s main motivation is he deseprately wants to be cool. He wants to be a badass like Vader, he dresses in Vader cosplay (either ignoring or not knowing that Vader only dressed like that because his body was completely destroyed), he has these huge temper tantrums and nobody respects him because he’s a toddler in a Vader suit. 

He murders his own father, his parents who (at least in the films themselves) show every willingness to take him back and forgive him what he’s done, so that he can fully embrace his own “evilness”. In other words, he commits patricide to feel cool about himself, then it doesn’t work. 

And the movie series really banks on me feeling conflicted about Kylo Ren or at least wanting him to be redeemed. Granted, the wider internet seems to love him, I just can’t.

Oh, before I forget, the other thing I love about Kylo Ren is that the movies insist he’s a) strong in the Force b) is equal to Rey. Rey consistently beats the shit out of him with 0 training. Kylo Ren has been training in the Force for years. Guys, they are not a Dyad, Rey is far far far stronger than he is and for whatever reason the films never want to admit it. Because I guess we like things coming in pairs now.

But yes, “The Force Awakens”, at a distance not great nor terrible, but a rip off of a movie we’ve already seen that left me going “Welp, the next one’s probably The Empire Strikes Back then I guess we’re getting Ewoks”. I was sort of right on that and sort of wrong.

The Last Jedi

So, JJ Abrams clearly had a vision of where he wanted this sequel trilogy to go. He set up these big questions such as what’s up with Finn, who are Rey’s parents and why was she left on this nowhere planet, will Kylo Ren be redeemed and how, who is Snoke, etc.

Now, I’m not saying these aren’t stupid questions. To be frank, they kind of are. Finn being Force Sensitive was the most inconsequential thing I’ve ever heard of, Rey’s parents should not have been used to drive the plot the way it was, as spoken above I’m clearly team gut Kylo Ren, and that Snoke was actually just Palpatine being the world’s largest cockroach is a beautiful but hilarious answer.

That said, what Johnson did was he decided, “You know what, I’m going to take every trope of Star Wars and completely flip it on its head and absolutely doom the sequel to this movie.”

And by god, he did.

We get a weirdly pointless movie in which Poe, SINGLEHANDEDLY, completely obliterates the Resistance. He first obliterates their bombers by failing to follow command, then goes and bitches about how he’s not put in command when he clearly shows no ability to understand how a military works, actively subverts orders which in turn obliterates the entire Resistance fleet until the only survivors can fit on the Millenium Falcon. They have no ships, no weapons, barely any people, and are ultimately doomed doomed doomed.

We have Finn’s weird subplot with a suddenly introduced character Rose in which the pair aid in Poe’s blowing up the resistance (they send sensitive information using the communication equipment of a guy they do not know, who fully admits to being shady and out for his own skin, and are flabergasted when he betrays them). 

Rose herself is this weirdly sweet person who seems forced into the plot to a) provide a love triangle for Finn and Rey b) provide this forced sunny outlook that I didn’t really need in the film.

We get Rey never really being trained, going into the Cave of Wonders for a few seconds, falling in love with Kylo Ren over weird Force Skype calls (where I did not need to see him shirtless, thank you film) and being horrifically betrayed when Kylo Ren turns out not to be a great guy. Never saw that coming, Rey. 

As for Kylo Ren, well... God, we get Emperor Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren, the Emperor. I’m not even that upset about the anticlimactic murder of Snoke (that was kind of funny, especially in the context of Palpatine going, “Bitch, please, you’re in my chair” immediately in the next film) but just Kylo Ren being emperor. And also that the Resistance only escapes at all because he’s so dumb he made their dumb plans seem smart (i.e. concentrates all his firepower on an illusion for ten minutes while Hux goes, “Emperor, sir, we could actually destroy the Resistance right now.”

Now, you’ll notice I didn’t complain about Luke. A lot of people are upset he became a grumpy, miserable, old hermit who sits around waiting for death. Frankly though, in this universe, that’s exactly where he is. He left “Return of the Jedi” thinking he’d saved the world, he’s resurrected the Jedi Order, and all is well. Only a decade later, his students are all murdered by his nephew, the Empire’s back, and he accomplished nothing. He’s an utter failure as a Jedi (though Luke never realizes he knew jack shit about the Jedi Order and was in way over his head but I guess that’s beyond him). Why shouldn’t he go sit on a rock and wait to die? 

Now, did he have to drink that blue dinosaur milk? Well, I guess it was funny, gross but funny so... Sure, I guess he did. But I do like that he gave Rey 0 training, they had one meditation session and then he whined about how Obi-Wan was such a stupid asshole. And then Rey ran off to be with her boyfriend, who then told her that her parents were gutter trash (which again, was funny, but I don’t think that was supposed to be funny).

Of the characters introduced in the movie, the only one I really liked was the hacker, and it was for the actor/the beautiful way in which he gracefully exited stage left with zero shame going, “You all knew I was going to betray you!” You beautiful man, you.

Rise of the Skywalker

First, when something is called “Rise of the Skywalker” you know you’re in for a rough time.

But anyways, TLJ was filled with a controversy Disney didn’t want (half their audience hated it, half loved it, but at least they sold those penguin dolls) so they desperately get Abrams back. Only, what he clearly wanted from his series has been shot to hell, and now he’s left with Emperor Kylo Ren, a completely obliterated Resistance, a dead Luke, a love interest he never planned to introduce for Finn, Rey’s parental crisis being solved with trash people, Snoke just suddenly dead, Hux planning revenge, and then some.

And so, Abrams goes the brave and hilarious route of shouting “PRETEND THAT LAST MOVIE NEVER HAPPENED”

We open to a fully functioning Resistance (their bomber fleet is back, their fleet period is back, they have all their fully trained personnel). We have Rey getting the Jedi training she needed this time from Leia, who is now a Jedi, because yay feminism rammed down my throat to make the audience feel better. Rose says “It’s cool guys, I don’t want to join the adventure this film, I’m going to stay here and work on robots” so that she can gracefully exit the entire plot. Kylo Ren is demoted from Emperor in two seconds when we discover that a) Snoke was apparently Palpatine b) for unexplained reasons Palpatine’s alive (and I am now convinced that man will never die). Kylo Ren tells Rey at the first opportunity that he lied about her trash parents AND REALLY SHE’S A PALPATINE! THIS WHOLE TIME, REY! THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT. I’M SUPER SERIAL THIS TIME, REY.

Basically, in the course of an overly long movie, Abrams desperately shoves in everything he was trying to get out of the series, while sobbing, and sobbing even harder when things like Finn being Force Sensitive or Lando having a secret daughter get caught. I actually agree with the Producers on this, by the way, the Finn trying to tell Rey something scenes were weird and indicative of a love triangle but him being Force Sensitive instead... It says a lot that the movies did not change when it was removed, at all. And Lando was just this strange cameo who was in the film to make us feel nostalgic.

And this isn’t even getting to the ridiculous 24 hour time limit (which made me think there should have been some video game style clock in the corner letting us know when Dawn of the Third Day is coming), Palpatine’s other secret army on a secret Sith planet that can be easily taken down by taking out one navigation tower, Rey’s hilarious struggle with the dark side in which she has a vision of herself in a cape hissing, Kylo Ren’s hilarious redemption in which the movie in the form of Leia and Han Solo says, “Alright, Ben, it’s time to stop being evil” and he says “okay”, the fight with Palpatine in which I’m supposed to believe he dies for reals because... I have no idea why I’m supposed to believe he’s dead. The Reylo, god the Reylo, and Kylo Ren’s tragic, hilarious, death.

And then, of course, the ending where Rey decides she’s a Skywalker now.

I actually did laugh all the way through “Rise of the Skywalker”, you can’t not, I mean it’s a hilariously awful movie. The only thing that might have made it more hilarious was if we actually did get those Ewoks.

TL;DR

They’re all bad movies, if you want more specifics than this, you’re just going to have to ask me questions.

[bimswritings]

This Is Our Way

Ch.1

Summary: What happens when you make the mistake of thinking you can steel from a Mandalorian? You land yourself and job and a plethora of adventures and emotion you could never even dream of.  The question is; where will those emotions lead.

Warnings: Typical canon violence, NSFW implications and scenes later on

You can also read it on my Ao3 account.

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Clouds. Dark, impenetrable, depressing grey clouds are what greet you as soon as your eyes open, just like they have every day for years during your existence on the scrappy planet of  Corellia. Home to the most desperate and cruel criminals, along with the enslaved and weak civilians and captives. All mixed in with your average day citizen trying to get by.

A great place to live.

The sound of tie-fighters overhead is what first woke you, screaming as they made their morning flight overhead, acting as an ever present reminder of the Empire's presence and signaling the start of your day. Bones and joints crack in sync as you push yourself up, rubbing your eyes and crawling from the busted old weapons crate that acted as a poor supplement for a bed. Its lid laid discarded to the side, allowing the cool night air of one of the only dry nights of the month to flow in while you slept. The hard metal lining was barely tolerable, even when padded with the few scraps of fabric you had managed to snag over the years, but it was sturdy and the lid provided great protection from the ever present rain on the overcast planet.

Taking care not to trip while climbing from the enclosed space, you stumble out onto the main section of the roof and stare over the city as you stretch, trying not to cringe as certain bones popped back into place painfully. It wasn’t a pretty sight, and not even the fresh breeze that floated in from the sea could make it any more appealing.

Boring, industrial buildings stretched as far as the eye could see in varying colors of black and steel, hardly standing out against the horizon of equally dull colors only punctuated by the occasional crism Empire flag. In the middle of it all was the only decently maintained and sizable buildings on the planet, where the majority of ships for the Empire were produced. It was thanks to the presence of that one building that there was even an economy here, keeping it from turning into a more dreary and wet version of Tatooine, the outlandish world it was. The sight was enough to make your stomach churn, but had nothing on the aching pain that radiated from the organ and had you mind wondering when you had eaten last. Three, four days maybe? It didn’t matter. However long it was, the meager scraps you had managed to find behind the restaurant district of the wealthy were but a distant memory. It was this very hunger that drove you from your safe space, forcing you to climb down the pipes lining the outside of the building you resided on.

The metal creaked and groaned in protest under your weight, but you didn’t give it a second though, knowing there was nothing to worry about. You had been climbing along these fixtures for years, nimble hands and feet finding the smallest of purchases as you move along with ease.

When the ground was close enough you dropped, rolling through the impact to your feet and taking shelter behind an abandoned stall as you momentarily stumbled, vision swimming and black dots dancing before you. Force, you really need to get something to eat soon. Rainwater could only fill your stomach for so long before it lost its abilities to hold you over.

Peering around the corner, your eyes scanned the narrow alleyway, looking for any sign of stormtroopers or other rough characters that would cause trouble. You were never much of a fighter, but today especially was a day you were feeling particularly weak.

‘Alright. All I need to do is slip out, grab a couple of credits, and get back. It should be fine as long as I don’t run into-’

“Well well well. Look what we have here.” Leon’s voice spoke from behind, making you cringe and berate yourself for not being more careful. This was the last thing you needed to deal with, and Leon’s sickly smooth voice only served to grate on your nerves more as you turned to face him and his three lackeys, identifying them as Sho, Everett, and Corin.None as dangerous, but all as bad tempered as their leader.

Glacial blue eyes stared from pale skin beneath his shock of blond hair, a combo that drew ladies like flies to him. Pair that with pearly white teeth and he could have been a poster boy for some prep school on Coruscant. If not for the tattooed arms and green vest that held the insignia of a ranicore tooth, marking him as one of Sozin’s many street enforcers. His kind was the one you hated most. Cocky guys who thought that just because they were someone in some gang they had power over everyone else, not giving a second thought to those they hurt, be it man, women, or child. As long as they got a nice cut at the end of the day they were fine. Despite your hate for them, by all means joining a gang was the best way to survive here. It promised food, shelter, and constant work. All you had to do was give up your own self respect and humanity in return.

“The little Jawa had finally come out from her fortress. Tell me,” He smirked as the others formed a loose circle around you, effectively caging you in. “Get anything good lately.”

You wanted to spit at him, slap that stupid smirk off his face and leave him to go crying back to his boss. But you didn’t. Instead, you took a more casual, defensive stance, ready to get away the moment you had the chance. Slapping a fake smile on your face, you cocked an eyebrow in mock teasing.

“Please. If I had anything of interest I’m sure you of all people would know.” You were getting more nervous now, keenly aware of how close Sho was getting to your current position. Far too close for your liking.

“And with the patrols increased and punishments cracking down, things have gotten harder.''

“True, but I just never know what those sticky fingers of yours may manage to pick up. Your skill has a reputation after all.” His eyes skimmed over your body, not even trying to hide the way he was practically undressing you. The slimy bastard had been pining after you for years, ever since he had watched you lift a number of things from a trooper when you were both just young teenagers. He claimed it was for your skills but it didn’t take a genius to see he was looking for something more. “Maybe you could give me a live demonstration some time.”

And there it was.

You said nothing, only pushing yourself further against the cool metal of the wall behind you in an attempt to create some sort of distance in between you. Your stomach, the traitor it was, decided that it would be the best time to voice its own opinion, letting out a loud growl of protest that didn't go unheard.

Leon’s face took on a mask of concern and sympathy, and you might have fallen for it had you not known any better. His tone took on a softer, more whispery tone, like he was speaking to a stray feline. Not that far off if you thought about it.

“You look hungry. Why don’t you come back with me. I can get everything squared away with Sozin, and I promise, I’ll take real good care of you.”

His hand extended out in invitation, strong fingers that had ended the lives of so many gently relaxed, the other crossing behind his back in a mock gentleman pose, as if he even knew what being a decent guy even started with.

“C’mon. Think about it. No more empty stomachs or fighting for every scrap. You’d even have a nice bed to lay in at the end of the day. No more sleeping on the filthy streets.”

Scoffing, you summoned the last of your confidence, brushing past him and ignoring his invitation. “I’d rather take the streets than your blood soaked sheets any day.”

That should have been it, and it would have been for anyone else on just a code of respect among those here. But Leon wasn’t known for taking no for an answer. Before you could even make it  three steps his hand closed on your elbow, bringing you back closer to him. Despite all you twisting and pulling, his superior strength kept you close, breath fanning your skin as he spoke.

“Listen here, I’ve been more than kind in my advances. A saint some may even say, so you’re not going to walk away from me, understand? No your going to come back and-”

“Hey!” A shout from the end of the alleyway interrupted him, drawing all your attention as the squadron of storm troopers rounded the corner to the alley, falling in line behind their captain.”You there! What’s going on?”

At the sight of the local law enforcement and their blasters, Leon’s grip loosened a fraction. Just the smallest amount really, but enough for you to be able to slip from his grip and between Sho and Corin before they could stop you. You ignored the shouting of the officer, sprinting in the opposite direction and around the corner into the main streets of Corellia.

‘Good luck trying to find me now.’ You smirked, pulling your hood up to conceal your face as you effortlessly blended into the crowd, becoming just one of the thousands of faces that traveled through as you continued on your way. Now it was time for the real work to begin.

Just as with the seasons, your own hunting grounds changed, ever rotating through the different sectors in order to keep law enforcement off your tail. It was one of the first lessons you had ever learned; never hunt in the same spot for more than a few weeks.

Today was a fresh start in the port district, leaving an abundance of new and unaware targets. It was a popular place for travelers as well, who were especially naive, but even with that you knew today would be a challenge. It hadn’t been a lie when you told Leon that the troopers were cracking down. More patrols and increased severity of punishments had started to begin in order to ‘cut down the crime’, as your senator put it. Fat chance of that though, as one could argue that Corellia ran on crime. Still, the effort put forth was really putting the pressure on smaller people like you, who were just trying to survive, not to mention the street vendors and shop owners had installed their own new security measures in place, leading to an unfavorable combo that led to your current weak and hungry state. So you were here, looking for some oblivious fool to cop a few credits off from your perch just outside the mechanics.

As your eyes scanned the crowd, looking for visible money holders or those with liftable jewelry and other items, you saw him. He was hard to miss actually. The beskar he wore from head to toe shone proudly even without the light of the sun hidden above, speaking of its own durability and care shown by the owner. Alongside him was a pod, closed, and most likely carrying whatever supplies he had picked up from the market. The brown cape around his shoulders did nothing to hide the gun scross his broad back, nor the dozens of smaller weapons strapped to his person.

He stood tall above the crowd, most parting like water around a stone to avoid him, and it was no wonder. Even you had heard the stories about the Mandalorians. Fierce warriors and fighters who could track their prey to the ends of the galaxy. They were the best bounty hunters and hired guns on the market. You had been witness to more than one lowlife being pulled from their seat in the cantina by his kind, kicking and begging to no avail as they were carried away, dead or alive.

Teeth gnawing on inside of your cheek, you debated with yourself. On one hand, he was a high risk target, undoubtedly being used to these kinds of places and the people who lived here. Stealing from him would earn you a blaster shot to the head if caught, that is, if he were feeling merciful enough not to crush every bone in your body. But then, he was a bounty hunter. They always carried a lot of credits, and ones worth more at that. One swipe from him could set you up for days, if not weeks! He was also the only target you had seen open worth any value the entire day, and you weren’t sure you could go much longer without food.

You debated with yourself, going back and forth as you watched him grow closer to where you sat. If you didn’t make a decision soon you would lose your chance all together.

As if detecting your hesitance, your body made the decision for you, loosening another growl from its depths, prompting you forward and before you knew it you were on the move. Pulling a small guide book from your pocket, you pretended to be grossly interested in the useless thing, eyes moving to falsely skim the words as you carefully adjusted your path closer to his, threading between the crowd with as much ease as he cut through it.

The moments before were tense, each step leaving you feeling more electrified as adrenaline coursed through your body, only feeding your blind confidence as you counted down.

‘6..5...3..2..1….Now’

You pretended to stumble, tripping on your own feet as naturally as you would walk, veering from your course and bumping into the armored man. You winced slightly as your shoulder made contact with the metal, which made your grunt of pain that much more believable and distracting while your hands got to work. Like all bounty hunters, he kept his money in front of him, just slightly to the left of his leg. A tactic to prevent pickpockets like you that frequented the scenes they often found themselves in. Smart, but you had gotten used to this tactic before, and it was a simple swipe of your hand as it quickly entered and retreated the pouch, fingers closed around an unknown number of credits, all within a fraction of a second as you mumbled apologies, raising your opposite hand in distraction as your other moved to pocket your catch.

As soon as your own fingers left the pouch, you knew you were in trouble. Years of being on the streets had taught you when you had the upper hand in a situation or not, whether you were the predator or prey. In that moment, that small fraction of a moment, you went from poised victor to the most demure of prey.

And the man in front of you was the hunter.

His hand, even quicker than your own, moved to latch onto the retreating limb. The very one holding the credits you had thought had been yours.

Head snapping up to meet his, you were faced with an unfeeling gaze in the form of silver surrounding a small ‘t’ of inky darkness that prevented you from seeing his face. You tried to pull away, only to have his stern grip tighten even more, the leather of his glove squeaking in symphony along with the crackling of the joint. Yet you still refused to drop the credits, stubbornly holding onto them out of spite and fear. If he hadn’t seen them yet, there was no way he could indefinitely prove you had taken anything from him, though the way he focused on it told you he already knew the truth.

Kriffing hell. Why had you even thought this would be a good idea. He was a Mandalorian, and in your hunger driven brain you had somehow managed to convince yourself it would actually work. Well congratulations, you had the credits, but now you were as good as dead. If he didn’t decide to deal out his own justice and kill you then and there, surely he would turn you over to the stormtrooper.

The skin on your back tingles and warmed at the thought, memories of public whippings flashing in the back of your mind and doubling your heart rate and raising your panic even more.

Maybe you could still get out of this though. He was a man, as far as you could tell anyways, and all men were susceptible to one thing, hardened warrior or not. You could distract him, try to get a trade or compromise in return for forgetting about the situation. If not him then the clones. Maker knows they were always willing to pass up small crimes every once in a while in exchange for a way to sate their horniness. Though you had never tried the practice yourself, you had heard of numerous others getting off the hook that way. How hard could it be?

Your thoughts were interrupted by movement, bringing you back from your blind panic of plotting how to get out of this. The Mandalorian had tilted his head, t-visor still trained on your face as he observed you. Those around you were all too eager to ignore the situation, walking past with explicitly diverted eyes as they went about their business. The hand not holding yours moved, making you flinch back but with nowhere to go as he kept you trained in place. It moved towards your face and you braced, eyes scrunched and ready for the impact of a palm or fist making contact.

Yet, it never came.

Instead, the soft worn leather gently pressed against your face, fingers gently running along the curve of your cheek, highlighting the bone that protruded with hunger. The occasional scrape of his beskar along the skin makes you shudder, but if he even notices he doesn’t say anything, only continuing to stare as his hand tips your face every which way for him to examine. Then he just...let go. Without another word he had dropped his hands, stepping around and continuing on his original path, leaving you behind him, frozen in place and in a state of shock.

You could have stood there for any measure of time, be it seconds or minutes. Your brain was too busy trying to process what had just happened to even think about anything else. It was only when someone rudely bumped into you, almost knocking you to the ground, that you finally snapped out of it, and suddenly you were running. Feet pounding the uneven ground as you gained speed, faces flew past as little more than blurs as you continued to put more space between you and your should-have-been attacker. If it had been any other time you might have been proud of the speed you had, the burning in your lungs of little significance. Not even when you had seen Leon once again did you blink, blowing past as he called out and tried to grab you.

Before you knew it you were rounding the alley back to your little home, leaping more than climbing up the pipes with record speed as your feet barely touched the rickety metal. You practically dove into your little crate of a home, pulling the lid and locking yourself in darkness as you tried to sooth your pulse, taking deep breaths that did little to help. Absentmindedly, you began humming to yourself. A song so out of tune and unrecognizable it would have made a wookie weep, but it was what you needed as you pressed the burning and sticky skin of your forehead against the cool metal of the wall.

Eventually, after countless repetitions or the short tune, you managed to steady yourself, bringing enough sense back to realize you were still holding onto the credits from before, which were now gripped tightly in your hand. Enough to the point where the skin had turned a pearly white and your fingers hurt to move as you slowly unclenched them, revealing angry marks and even places where the rectangular currency had bit deep enough into the skin to draw blood. But oh what a beautiful sight it was.

One hundred credits laid in your fist, clustered together in a jumble of varying amounts and different kinds, but a total amount of one hundred. You normally only got this after a week of extremely successful hunting in the summer months. The sight of it now was enough to make you cry.

Despite the urge to go and get food from the nearest vendor, you knew better than to go out right away. For all you knew he had only let you go just to follow you back to your base, probably thinking he could turn you into the stormtroopers for a bigger ransom than what he lost, or loot your own place for anything you had stored up. Jokes on him if that was the plan, because he would only get back what you took from him.

The thought stayed stuck in the front of your mind, forcing you to stay tucked in your hiding space for the remainder of the day and keeping you awake through the night. Every little sound made you jump, convinced that you would once again find yourself at the receiving end of his burning gaze, the helmet he wore only masking his expression and leaving your fate uncertain. He never showed though, never ripped the lid off your container or dragged you out into the open.

By the time you managed to fall asleep, your body finally running out of its immense supply of adrenaline, the city itself had just begun to awaken below to the wee hours of the morning, and the fighters had just begun their morning rounds once again.

‘Maybe...maybe just a few hours of sleep.’ You thought to yourself, burrowing down into your small nest of blankets. What could be the harm?

Well, apparently a lot.

You had woken up in a panic, cracking the lid to see that the sky had already gone dark once again. Swearing to yourself, you emerged once again like a Nightshrike from its cave. Foregoing any normal rituals, you allowed your body to stretch itself as you moved, hustling from rooftop to rooftop, something you only did under the cover of night. The last thing you need is someone seeing you and discovering your home up top. You would never be able to get any peace after that.

You were in a rush though, and the thought of wasting a day of work didn’t bother you nearly as much as the thought of your favorite shop closing. With the amount of credits you had now, you wouldn’t have to worry about money for a while, so the only thought you had while the dim lights of the city flicked to life below was getting there as soon as possible. Who knows, maybe you’d even have enough to treat yourself to some fruit, an expensive and rare treat for anyone on the planet.

Skidding to a stop just before the end of the row, your eyes lit up at the sight of the shop still open, clearly readying to close. Shimmying back down to increasingly deserted streets, you were already drooling at the thought of biting into something and not having to wonder what it would taste like. No more than ten minutes later you were leaving, pockets now full of brick bread as the owner locked the doors behind you.

The plan was to only eat half of one on your way back, the nutrient rich and dense pastries giving you enough energy for the day in a single bite, but not even halfway back you found yourself licking the crumbs from your fingertips, hardly holding back from grabbing one of the four remaining loafs. Instead you reached into the opposite side and grabbed the meiloorun fruit you had managed to snag.

Now this was the main event.

Sinking your teeth into the soft skin, you nearly groaned as its taste exploded on your tongue, making your taste buds dance and sing as the sweetness became so intense it almost hurt. You still loved it.

Your stomach was full for the first time in forever, almost foreign as you had begun to forget the feeling. Juice dribbled down your chin as you continued on your way home, making a deliciously sticky mess to be wiped away and cleaned by your lips, intent on not letting a single morsel go to waste.

Thankfully the trip back was less eventful than your previous outing, helping instill an eerie yet calming silence over the city and prompting you to take your time.

You always enjoyed it up here on the roofs. Hardly anyone came up, not many having the same confidence and agility possessed by you and few others, and there was an ever present breeze up here that didn’t quite reach the lower levels. Not to mention the view it gave, which was one of the main reasons you had chosen a roof as your spot for a base camp. If only you could see the stars, but alas, the sight was as rare as greenery here, leaving it up to your own imagination to construct an array of bright lights on the top of your crypt.

Finishing the fruit, you paused at the edge of the building before your own. Small lights danced in the darkness, the occasional lamp illuminating a hustling figure and the street walkers that lined the corners of streets, calling to anyone in sight. The occasional search light of a patrol ship would shin above the buildings as it made its rounds over the city.

‘Must be looking for someone’ you mused, turning back to return home. No reason to get caught out tonight, especially when you were looking at a few days of relaxation.

As you turned, a familiar flash caught your eye, triggering a new taught panic response. You could hardly believe your eyes, rubbing them extra hard just to make sure you were seeing things right. But alas the sight before you neglected to change, unfortunately not a trick of the eye like you had hoped it was, and the Mandalorian you had thought you escaped the previous day continued walking down the dark alley.

You began to sweat backing away from the edge and further out of his line of sight, trying to still keep him in yours as you peered back over and tracked his progress as he got closer.

‘Kriff. I should have known he would want his money back.’

Panicking, you began going over all the escape routes near you. Ones through city street and sewers that would be much too small for him to fit through. Though, if he had tracked you here then chances were he would be able to find you wherever you went. This really wasn’t good. You might not even be able to go collect what meager possessions you had back in your box.

Then, materializing out of the darkness as if he were made of it himself, was Leon. He stepped into the path of the Mandalorian like he had no fear and, knowing how stupid he was, you thought he might actually not have any for the bounty hunter. But why would he when he was the primary enforcer for Sozin and still had his own backup, the three from earlier.

“Hey there.” He spoke in a voice that promised nothing but trouble, hands casually resting in pockets that undoubtedly concealed a weapon of some sorts. "I've been meaning to have a talk with you. The shiny Mandalorian warrior everyone is talking about."

This, you thought, was not good.

[snowdice]

Having a Ball (Dice Roll 14)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton, Remus/Virgil

Characters: 

Main: Logan, Patton

Appear: Virgil, Remus, Roman

Summary: 

Yet, he was not to be alone for much longer, as just as he turned his head back to the crowd, the doors to the ballroom opened, admitting another guest. Logan found himself unable to look away as the man entered the room with no fanfare. Most of the other guests did not even notice him, but Logan did. He was pushing through the crowds a moment later. 

Logan dances with a man at a ball.

Universe: Royalty

Genre: Fluff

Notes: Cinderella AUish, Sexual innuendo

This is part of my Roll the Dice Event which is where I do random ships, universes, and genres for the Sanders Sides fandom. For more details see this post. I posted a few days ago my results from this dice roll here. You can read the last one of these fics here.

Balls had always been the bane of Logan’s existence. His father had once told him that he’d grow to enjoy them, but even at the age of 50, he still thought the things were nonsense. At least, for the most part. He could barely tolerate the drivel that passed for conversation with most of the guests, and just attempting to cross the room was often hindered by bodies dancing and moving about. Unlike his younger brothers, Roman and Remus, he did not have the ability to flow with the crowds. The fact that he’d never even thought to attempt to learn was inconsequential. Just like this event itself. He didn’t even know the occasion for this one.

Roman was already off and about enjoying the attention he garnered from the crowds. Truly, he was the main reason Logan still permitted these balls. He would approve them every time with the condition that Roman would be the one to plan everything, and Logan would only consent to show up on the actual day. Roman was more than pleased by this arrangement and Logan couldn’t say he resented the younger man’s enjoyment of the task.

Remus also enjoyed the balls, but for a different reason. He was currently off doing… lord knew what, but it was probably something Logan should care to prevent. He did not care to prevent it, however, as he knew the moment Remus was done sowing mischief, he’d sweep away the only other sane person currently at this event, leaving Logan alone.

“What even is the theme of this one supposed to be?” Virgil asked from beside him. Logan’s brother-in-law was the only person in the room not wearing a mask, though he had one in his hand.

Logan squinted out at the crowds. “Green?”

Virgil snorted. “I doubt Princey would be so uncreative. It’s probably something like Woodland Fairy Summer Solstice in a Meadow After a Rainstorm.”

“No, no,” Logan said, suppressing a smile. “I do believe that was three times ago.”

“Ugh. No offence to you, but I’m divorcing your brother, so I don’t have to deal with your bloodline’s antics anymore.”

There was a faux wounded gasp from behind Virgil. “What is this I hear?” Remus asked, wrapping his arms around Virgil’s waist from behind. Despite Remus’s feigned discontent, he pressed his lips to his husband’s neck. “Am I being betrayed by my love?” he breathed into his ear.

“No, stop,” Virgil hissed, trying to squirm away. “We are in public and in front of your brother!”

“Oh,” Remus said. “If only there was a way to keep you anonymous so you wouldn’t have to be embarrassed.” He plucked the mask out of Virgil’s hand and basically slapped his face with it.

“Everyone knows who I am anyway,” Virgil groused, but he did reach up to secure it to his face. “I’m the only one Roman can never force to wear his outfit designs. I stick out.”

“And whose fault is that?” Logan asked amused.

“Roman’s for having such shitty taste.”

“Well, no argument’s here,” Remus replied with a chuckle. Then he hummed, releasing Virgil briefly, only to grab both of his hands. “I guess the only avenue open to us it to go make out in a dark corner.”

Virgil sputtered, face turning crimson behind his mask as he glanced nervously at Logan. Logan just raised an eyebrow. It was ridiculous that he still grew embarrassed about Remus saying such things even after over two decades of marriage. Logan himself had long ago grown numb to it. Remus shot Logan a wink and Logan return it with a droll look. The next moment, Virgil was being pulled away, leaving Logan well and truly alone. Logan mourned his loss.

Yet, he was not to be alone for much longer, as just as he turned his head back to the crowd, the doors to the ballroom opened, admitting another guest. Logan found himself unable to look away as the man entered the room with no fanfare. Most of the other guests did not even notice him, but Logan did. He was pushing through the crowds a moment later.

He bumped shoulders with a few of his guests but could not muster any regret. He mumbled a few courtesy apologies without even glancing at the recipient. No one dared protest as, even with the mask, they could almost certainly identify him as the king.

The man had just made it to the bottom of the staircase by the time Logan shoved past the last of the crowd. He looked up at Logan as he approached and though Logan could only see his eyes through the mask he wore, he could still without a doubt say he was stunning.

He’d obeyed Roman’s theme for the most part but tweaked the color scheme just enough to stand out from the crowd. The outfit was somewhere between a suit and a dress, the top being a suit jacket over a waistcoat, but the bottom flaring out into a long skirt. Logan could not tell if it was one or two pieces. It was green as instructed by the invitations Roman had sent out, but with a touch of blue here and there and the accents edged further toward gold than the suggested brown. Logan could not see his mouth as it was covered by the bluish-green mask, but he could tell by his eyes that he smiled when Logan stopped in front of him. He was beautiful.

“Hi,” Logan said.

“Hi,” he replied.

Without missing a beat, Logan offered his arm. “Would you like to dance with me?”

Amusement pooled in his eyes. “That’s rather forward of you, Mr. Stranger,” he said, yet he still took the offered arm, “but, yes.”

With his permission, Logan pulled him towards the dance floor just as another song began. Something about the man made the movements of the dance easier for Logan. He was always pinpoint accurate with his steps, but he’d been criticized as too stiff his entire life. Yet, Logan could feel himself loosen up with the man in his arms. His mind drifted from the order of the steps to focus almost completely on him, on the way his eyes sparkled with glee and the way his hand gripped at Logan’s shoulder. They were inappropriately close, but Logan didn’t care at all. In fact, he leaned his head in closer to listen to him speak and speak they did. They spoke about everything and nothing until Logan couldn’t even recall how many songs they’d danced too. Eventually, the conversation stalled to a comfortable silence.

“Are you enjoying the ball?” the man asked after a few minutes of them just dancing.

“I wasn’t,” Logan said simply.

The hand on Logan’s shoulder squeezed a bit at that. “But you are now?” he asked.

“Well, most of my discontent was due to the fact that I’d been lacking good company.”

Logan could imagine the smile under the mask with perfect clarity. “Well…” he said. “If the event itself isn’t fun for you, perhaps we could go somewhere else.”

Logan could love no idea more. He leaned in so his lips were near the man’s ear. “We will have to sneak away so my brother does not see.”

“Hmm,” the man contemplated, looking around. “We can pretend we are going to the balcony for some air and sneak off to the garden,” he suggested.

Logan glanced around the ballroom, locating Roman who was currently chatting with a small group of guests on the opposite side from the balcony. “That seems to be an adequate plan,” he agreed. His partner shifted the dance slightly putting them on a trajectory that led them towards the balcony. Logan kept his eyes on Roman every time they turned to make sure he wasn’t watching them. Eventually they made it to the balcony doors and stepped off the dancefloor together. They walked casually towards the balcony and then with one last glance back at Roman, they dashed out of sight towards the door that would lead down to the garden.

It was guarded as guests were not allowed in the garden, but the guards stepped aside for Logan easily, and the two of them slipped out into the night air. The man giggled when the door closed behind them, assuring their freedom, and Logan could not help but laugh as well.

Then, they were off to walk into the garden. Of course, they had been dancing for so long that they were starting to get tired, so after only a few minutes, they found a bench hidden from any castle windows by a long row of bushes.

They settled onto it and sat there for a few minutes, just soaking in each other’s company. They did not need to speak but for a few words. Every so often the man would giggle breathlessly, probably still in reaction to their daring escape.

Finally, Logan turned to him with a tender smile on his face. “May I take off your mask?”

“You may,” he agreed easily. Logan reached up as soon as the words left his mouth to carefully remove the mask and reveal a very familiar face.

“Hello,” Logan said.

“Hi,” Patton replied, his face flushed, but happy. Logan leaned forward to touch their foreheads together, and he giggled. “You always find me, huh?”

“Always,” Logan promised. “Even when I have no idea who you are or what your face looks like. Even if all I have to go on is a stupid magic shoe made out of glass.”

“Aw honey, I love you too!” He leaned forward to kiss Logan, but before their lips could meet, a voice spoke up.

“Nope!” Virgil’s voice said. “Nope, they’re kissing. I can’t keep quiet anymore.”

Logan frowned and looked back to see Virgil’s head had popped out of the bush behind them. As unhappy as he had been when the man had left him earlier, he was even more unhappy to see him now. Logan glared down at him.

“Hello, Virgil,” Patton giggled.

“Do the two of you have to do this every goddammed time?” Virgil groused. “We get it. You broke a curse with a magic shoe and stubbornness.”

“And love,” Patton reminded.

“Ugh.”

“Aw, let them have their kinky roll play,” Remus’s voice said from within the bushes.

Virgil grimaced. “Ew.”

“Says the man currently hiding in the bushes,” Logan shot back.

“I’ll have you know this was a completely nonsexual romp through the bushes,” Virgil claimed, but then his eyes widened as he jumped and yelped. “Remus!”

“Tell them to go away. We were here first,” Remus whined.

“I was born first,” Logan groused.

“Well, I already have my pants off.”

Virgil looked down quickly, face going red at what he saw. “When did you take your pants off?!”

“You’re lucky you still have your pants on,” Remus said.

“We are not screwing in a bush, Remus,” Virgil said. Then, “Hey!”

Remus laughed lowly and Logan looked back at Patton. “Perhaps we should just leave them to it.”

“That’s probably for the best, knowing them” he agreed, standing up. “We’ll be in the gazebo, boys,” Patton told them. He grabbed Logan’s hand and pulled, and well, Logan would never not follow him.

[yukipri]

On the Baratie, Part 2 - a One Piece Mermaid AU Text Story

Tonight I bring another humble offering of a text story, this time a continuation of the Baratie story that y’all voted to see more of!

This was posted in advance on my Patreon several weeks ago ^ ^

Continues off of Part 1, but can be enhanced by reading the Prologue as well!

Links to previous parts:

👒🐟On the Baratie, Part 1

👒🐟On the Baratie, Prologue

~~

Sanji and Gin jolt when they notice the mermaid draped over the rail above them, her tail gripping the wood like an anaconda.

"Glad you got food!" she says to Gin, who is too busy staring to hear her words. "And you!" now directed at Sanji, "You're cool! Join my crew!"

Sanji can't really judge Gin, because he's staring too. It's hard to tear his gaze away from the stunning goddess who has seemingly materialized out of thin air to be within touching distance, but he manages, and--it appears she's alone. The pirates are nowhere in sight.

"Are you alright?" his words leave in a soft whoosh, in case the pirates can hear, and Gin finally snaps out of it to look at Sanji with concern.

"Me? I'm great! The food here's awesome! I'd be more awesome if you joined my crew!" She grins, and her mouth is full of gleaming pearls, and Sanji struggles not to swoon.

"Your...crew?" Sanji's impressed he managed to catch that, he's so entranced by her voice. It's lower than he expected, but rich, and bright, and boyish in a way that matches her wind-tousled hair.

"Yeah, I'm a pirate!" She announces proudly, slapping her flukes against the wood in emphasis.

"A...pirate," Sanji repeats. "Those people who came in with you..."

"They're my crew! They're awesome!" The pearls flash again.

Sanji's inclined not believe her; he has no clue what the pirates have forced her to say, and even if that's not the case, she has this innocent air to her that suggests she may have been tricked into believing herself a willing member of the crew--but he stops.

There's something about her, the way her big, wide eyes sparkle and her smile shines down on Sanji warmer than the sun, that convinces him that she's telling the truth.

The mermaid really is a pirate. Which means she doesn't need to be rescued.

"I see," he manages to say, and slowly forces the tension from his shoulders. He'd be lying if he said there wasn't a small part of him that's disappointed that he won't be able to act as her shining knight. But a much larger part of him is relieved, relieved because he honestly wasn't sure how he'd get rid of the pirates without the shitty old man and the Baratie suffering, and relieved because it means his princess isn't in distress. As much as he'd love to be her hero, Sanji doesn't think he could bear to see her in tears.

They talk some more, and Sanji's once again impressed with his ability to maintain a normal conversation with the mermaid, whose name is Luffy. Gin blanches at her announcement that they're going to the Grand Line, but he'd seen the members of her crew too, and reluctantly nods.

"Just be careful out there, monsters live on the Grand Line," Gin warns as he prepares to set off.

"It's okay, we have monsters too!" Luffy grins, carefree as can be. Gin and Sanji believe her, though neither at the time suspect that she includes herself among her crew's "monsters."

Zeff comes out as Gin's leaving, and Sanji cheerfully destroys the evidence of having fed the starving pirate before the restaurant owner's eyes. Luffy blinks at the exchange, before something seems to click.

"Oh, you're the Zeff dude!"

Zeff's eyebrows climb into his impossibly tall hat. "Oh? And you must be our first ever mermaid customer. The cooks were in quite an uproar over you." His eyes flick to Sanji knowingly, well aware that Sanji had shoved the other cooks aside in order to claim the honor of cooking for their party personally.

Luffy seems weirdly pleased. "Hey, Zeff dude, I found you! Thatch wanted to talk to you. So you should go talk to him!"

She's clearly very satisfied at having relayed her message, and Zeff harrumphs. "Thatch, eh? Well that's a name I've heard before...let's go see the brat."

Zeff disappears back inside, leaving Luffy alone with Sanji. He feels his heart pounding weirdly again, now that they're by themselves.

"You should really join our crew," Luffy says, and her persistence is endearing. She's picking her nose now, and with anyone else, Sanji would complain about how unsanitary it is, but anything done by her is charming. Sanji notes that her nostril seems bizarrely stretchy. How absolutely adorable.

"Is your crew in search of a cook, milady?" Sanji allows himself to briefly imagine what it would be like, to travel the world with such a lovely companion. The rest of her pre-existing crew fades to the background, until it's just her and Sanji, leaning against the rail of a beautiful white ship, seagulls soaring through brilliant clear skies as he pulls back the veil to kiss the bride--

"Oh, nope! We already have a cook!" she says cheerfully, shattering the fleeting vision of their wedding. "But, that doesn't mean we can't have two! And your food looks great! You should be our cook too!"

Ah, they already have a cook...Sanji suddenly remembers seeing the pompadour man, the one that had tickled his memory. He frowns, because that niggling sensation won't leave, and something tells him it's important that he remembers where he knows the man from.

"I should get back now, or Ace will be mad," Luffy announces, and shimmies up the rail back towards the door that Zeff had left from. She glances back at Sanji expectantly, and Sanji follows, unable to deny his princess's summons.

~~

The rest of Luffy's crew is still lounging in the back VIP section, surrounding the most lavish table in the entire restaurant and given a degree of privacy from outside with the help of thick curtains. Sanji had assigned them to the table in case they need a nasty confrontation, but it seems like that won't be necessary.

Sanji jolts when he realizes that the pompadour man has risen from his seat to stand in front of Zeff, and the two are talking animatedly. Sanji doesn't remember the last time Zeff looked so pleased to speak with an outsider.

"So yer now the Head Chef of that old man's fleet, eh," Zeff is saying, and the pompadour man looks weirdly bashful. "You woulda been a fine addition to our crew though, kid."

"Possibly," Pompadour agrees, "though my place is with Pops."

"And what about now? You change your mind about that, or taking a vacation all the way out here?" Zeff snorts, and Sanji acknowledges the affirmation that yes, these really are Grand Line pirates.

"Something like a vacation, and to spend some time traveling with my dearest--Luffy!" he exclaims.

"Thatch! I caught a Zeff!" Luffy announces, smacking her tail hard on the ground to bound up onto pompadour man's vacated seat.

All of the food at the table has been consumed, and Luffy looks sadly at the empty plate as though she had been expecting something to still be there. Sanji wants to immediately return to the kitchen to refill it, but then he notices that Luffy is now licking the plate. Her manners are absolutely beyond atrocious. It suits her though, and Sanji wouldn't want it any other way, because he hasn't ever seen such blatant appreciation for food that he'd cooked, and it's making his entire body buzz with barely contained bliss.

Before Sanji can make his offer to bring more, the pompadour man, Thatch, interrupts. "Lil Seastar, you don't need to do that, I'll make you seconds back on the ship," he says, fluffing Luffy's soft hair and Sanji seethes in jealousy.

"It was really good, you were right about the Zeff dude cooks," Luffy says mournfully at Thatch's plate. "Though Thatch's still the best!" She butts her head into Thatch's large palm.

Zeff laughs at her words. "High praise, to be compared to you, Whitebeard's lil cook, if you've grown as much as you claim. This meal was prepared by my Sous-chef. Come here Sanji," he says and Sanji jolts at suddenly being addressed.

Sanji's distracted by Thatch's hand on Luffy's head, but forces himself to look up at the tall pirate, who's now scrutinizing Sanji intently. There's something about the man that's really bothering Sanji, like he should really, really know him. Sanji thinks Zeff just said Whitebeard, and if that's the case--those are BIG pirates. Like, the Biggest actually, which is kind of insane. But, Sanji doesn't actually recall being familiar with any officers, other than having heard about Whitebeard himself, so it really doesn't solve the mystery of familiarity.

"So you're Zeff's best, hm?" Thatch says, and even though Sanji can only sense genuine friendliness from his smile, he still feels oddly awkward, unsure how to react. It's not often that Zeff holds another chef in such high regard, and one so much younger than him too. Sanji feels like he ought to be polite, at the very least.

He once again doesn't need to speak, because Luffy beats him to it. "Yeah! He's a good guy! And if he made our food, then he's good at food-making too! I pick him, I've decided. He's gonna join our crew!"

Sanji feels his cheeks burn at the praise, but being invited in private is a bit different from having it made into an announcement to an audience Sanji doesn't personally know. "Luffy, darling, please wait--"

"Lu, what'd we say about inviting people without consulting me? We're both captains here, we need to agree," a voice says lazily from Luffy's other side, and Sanji's gaze jolts to the man who unfolds himself from the shadows like a lethal big cat.

He'd somehow forgotten the others except Thatch, but this is the man who'd carried Luffy in, the dangerous one. He gives a careless nod in Sanji's direction, giving him a cursory sweep with dark, sleepy eyes even as he opens his arm. Luffy, pouting, slides onto the man's lap, and the arm settles again to wrap around her waist.

The move looks intentionally provocative, Sanji thinks, struggling to keep his scowl inside. It's hard to watch them pressed together, the man's bare, rippling torso to Luffy's revealing top and the soft flesh bulging from within. Luffy wraps her lovely coral gemstone tail around the man so it loops behind his chair, making their contact look very mutual. Throughout it all, the man doesn't break eye contact with Sanji.

The man's sending a message, and Sanji gets it loud and clear: Hands off.

Sanji decides he doesn't like the man.

"But Ace, he's a Good Guy, we want him on our crew," Luffy says, staring up at the man with enormous eyes and a wobbly lip that has Sanji clutching his chest.

The man, Ace--why does that sound vaguely familiar too?--has the nerve to look bored, even when exposed to the full blast of the gorgeous mermaid's luscious pout, and at this point Sanji has to conclude that the man isn't human, because what mortal could possibly resist her?

"Mm, a Good Guy, huh," Ace says, he gives Sanji a slow, knowing smirk that forces him to hold himself rigid to avoid stepping back. "I dunno Luffy, he's looking at you like you're meat."

His gaze gets colder then, and Sanji's indignation dies on his lips.

"Meat..."

The moment's over when Luffy looks down at herself contemplatively, and her stomach growls. 

"I take that back," Ace says hastily. "You're not meat, you're fish, and made of rubber at that. Bad idea, Lu."

"How about I get you something, and I can let Zeff see for himself if I've improved while I'm at it?" Thatch slides in. "That is, if you don't mind me borrowing your kitchen, Zeff?"

"Outsiders don't play in my kitchen, boy," Zeff snorts, and Sanji's relieved at the sudden return to normalcy, but it's short lived. "But for you, I'll make an exception. Let's see it."

~~

~~

Tbc in Part 3...?

And so I write longer and longer Mermaid AU stories ^ ^;;;;

Thank you so much for reading!! If you liked it, I’d love to hear any comments or thoughts ;A;

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

Read the next part: On the Baratie, Part 3

~This ask has been added to the Mermaid AU Text Headcanons Compilation post~