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mewberii · 4 years ago

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Streamer!Scaramouche AU

i feel like he’d be one of the biggest streamers on his platform- probably one of those that everyone has heard of even if they’re not into watching livestreams and all

but between those who do know who he is, they either love him or hate him. no in-between

it��s kind of understandable because his attitude is not suited/can be handled by anyone

he’s brutally honest even when his opinion may be seen as rude (to him he’s just saying the truth so he doesn’t mind if people get offended)

of course he doesn’t try to be rude on purpose but i mean it as in he’ll say what he thinks

imagine he’s playing a game and he doesn’t like a certain mechanic, or he isn’t enjoying the story;

he won’t say the game is bad but he’ll openly say he doesn’t like it/it’s not for him. it makes him seem strict but tbh he’s not that hard to please and even when he complains about one or two things he still enjoys the game

he usually gives every game a chance even when from what he’s seen it doesn’t sound like a game he’ll like. if he turns out to be right he just won’t play it again and if he’s wrong he’s a little too prideful to admit he spoke a little too fast but in the end he will admit the game is good or he’s having fun

probably the kind that just knows so much about all games and all the creators and all the game-making engines and is up to date with every single news of everything video-game + streaming-related,,, how does he do it, i don’t know,,,,

and also since he’s so popular he probably gets packages from game developers with limited edition stuff or merch from different games soooo often

and he placed the ones from his favorite games in his setup room and it looks INCREDIBLE he has so much stuff

he did a room tour stream once talking about all he has, where he got everything, from his monitor to every complement of his computer and like,,,,, the cost of his setup,,,,,,, some people already know they’ll never be able to afford that in their entire life

and he already had a great setup before he even became big as a streamer so people can already guess he’s fairly rich

also i feel like he would have started his career as a streamer without using a facecam and even like that, he already managed to get very popular because of his professional commentary of game dynamics/playability + you can tell that he’s passionate about this and also he’s very funny without even trying??

he says some stuff so casually that he doesn’t realise how funny it is

probs showed his face after he hit a very important milestone

he never considered showing his face that important but he understood why people would want to see his reactions when playing games (even tho he warned them he’s not the most expressive/dramatique person in the world and they know by now) and would want to put a face to the person who entertains them so much with his streams

and when he does show his face people go absolutely cRAZY BECAUSE he is crazy good looking (if you don’t think he’s good looking i’m sorry for your eyesight. jk i’m sorry in general i just really love him)

some people who didn’t watch his streams will even check them out because of that but literally if you come for the visuals only you won’t stay for long because as i said not anyone can handle his personality

if he sees people being superficial about him too much instead of paying attention to what’s happening in the stream, he will immediately turn the subs mode on in the chat (if he didn’t have it on already)

being rude, being disrespectful/saying discriminating stuff or anything of that sort won’t be tolerated and anyone who does it will be banned instantly

without even interrupting what he was saying before he saw the comment, he’ll just type the ban to whoever said that and go on

and his mods do the exact same. they are just as strict as him

if it ever got too much of course he wouldn’t be afraid to speak up about it and tell his chat to stop that behaviour or else, as they should already know, he won’t be afraid of banning them even if they’ve been subscribed for months or years

ANYWAYS

why do i feel like he has a super organised chat— as in instead of spamming 5 emotes per comment they all send just one and it looks so tidy and perfect

literally other streamers would be jealous of how not-messy his chat is even when he has thousands and thousands and thousands of viewers all the time

also i have this idea that maybe any of his fans would have designed him as a genshin character (which would be the design of the scaramouche we know (?))

and the little pop-ups (i don’t know the name in english rIP) thingies that show up to notify when someone subscribed or donated would be lil chibi art of that design

it’d be really cool

and since i also doodled what a stream of his could look like (i’ll show it in the future when i’m done!!) i thought that way it’d be more recognisable that the streamer is scaramouche

99% of the people who have seen him irl found him too intimidating to go ask him for a picture or tell him anything

he’s not a huge fan of taking pictures anyway + is more on the introverted/reserved side but he wouldn’t mind if someone went up to him (if he’s not busy with something) to tell him something or say they enjoy his streams

i feel like in a couple occasions he would have played a game with some subscribers and he’d like to tease them speaking with his usual tone and face (in case they’re watching the stream as they talk) so they think he’s serious

“did you watch my 12 hour stream the other day?” -scaramouche

“ah,,,, i-” -the sub

“think well of what you’re going to answer.” -scaramouche

“i-i couldn’t watch the whole thing,,,” -the sub

“ah, is that so…?” -scaramouche

he’ll pretend to sound disappointed but at one point he just can’t help but smirk and hold in a chuckle before telling them he’s not serious

(he literally doesn’t know how the hell he survived that stream himself because he isn’t one to stream for that long)

i feel like deep inside people who know him would know he wouldn’t say such things seriously/wouldn’t be disappointed in anyone for not watching every single minute of his streams or not even all his streams

but he says all that so seriously that it’s,,, intimidating and they’re lowkey like “god but what if he’s not joking-”

he’d play games with the other streamers sometimes but i feel like most of the type he’d play more single-player games

it’d be so funny if he plays among us with others and for example one of those others it’s childe

both of them would always be suspecting of the other first/bickering, especially scaramouche

and if one game turns out they’re both the impostors… people would know right away

like, if any of them tried to defend the other, everyone else would be like “!?! what is this? scaramouche and childe defending each other? scary”

they’d vote one of them (maybe scaramouche) out because they started guessing + saying proof of how both of them could be the impostors (but the biggest proof is them not coming for each other’s throats sNKJFNGKJS)

scaramouche would have to resist the urge to S C R E A M

needless to say he doesn’t like when he has to be impostor with childe

and unfortunately for him, fate makes it happen considerably often

i feel like at least one time scaramouche would kill next to childe and then report it and literally blame childe

and childe would be like ?!?!?!?!?? WHAT- NO- (struggles bc his brain instinct is to say ‘it was you!’ but they’re both the impostors??? how-)

and then they’d eject childe,,, and then people wouldn’t suspect of scaramouche for most of the game because ? why would he- blame his partner---

well he did it with no regrets and at the end when they all found out they found it very funny (except for childe, but even he ended up laughing in the end because what a mean strategy sjkfhdsgkj)

i have this feeling that even though they bicker so much and for any strangers it’d seem like they hate each other, when scaramouche does play online games, many times it’d be with childe?

ik they aren’t supposed to get along but for the sake of it being a modern au i don’t want bad vibes between any of the characters pls-

and everyone enjoys their dynamic and those streams always get a ton of viewers sjfhdsgkj and i’m sure both their chats would be good friends (most likely one’s fans would also be a fan of the other too)

very very very rarely (because he prefers just playing and talking while playing) he’d do streams where he doesn’t play anything but just talks with the chat, watches videos that they send him, looks at the fanart they make, just talks about games,,,,

it’d be super chill and the perfect streams for people to be doing homework/work/play games/draw or do basically anything while they listen to his stream in the background

he’d also be answering some of people’s questions about him or about his favorite games, or if he’s playing this new game that came out earlier this week,,,

“will you play ‘it takes two’ with childe?” -someone in the chat

“absolutely not. i won’t play a co-op game with him”

not even 5 days later, tweet from childe saying “streaming in 30 minutes! Scaramouche and I will be playing It Takes Two on my ch---”

anyways this will be all!! (for now?) i obviously knew genshin before this but, yesterday i could finally start playing it myself! so i feel like if not now, soon i will also write headcanons of him playing genshin! i don’t take requests but if you guys have any ideas or anything you want to say about this AU, send me an ask!! i’d love to talk about this and about genshin in general!

also, i was very inspired to write this by @baeshijima ! so thank you very much to her for her wonderful streamer AUs and if anyone reading this hasn’t read hers already, go check them out!! they’re amazing!!

#genshin impact #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche scenarios

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muwur · 4 years ago

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Since requests were open I was wondering if I could request father headcanons for iwai + ushi + atsumu 🥺 btw your writing is vv tasty n I can’t wait to see you write more !! Keep up the good work n stay safe !!

haikyuu daddee headcanons

✧ hc’s ✧ for iwaizumi, ushijima, and atsumu

❧ gn reader

✎ 1.4k words

a/n: omg u called my writing taSTY Dx i cri tySM 💞 that is a high compliment for me AHAHAHAH ILY and ty for the request!

also my lovelies i m back i m sry i was gone so long feojfe i miss yall <3 here u go enjoi, this was fun to write lmk if yall want more characetrs AHAHA

current listen: accidentally in love by sHREK AAHAH jkjk i mean counting crows, they cant take that away from me by ella fitzgerald and louis armstrong, love the way you lie by eminem and rihanna

requests: open!

iwaizumi

✧ prePARED daddy

✧ picked up on this parenting thing p fast, also does a lot of research so he’s ready to face any situation

✧ teaches his kids how to behave n respect others

✧ also makes sure they know not to talk to strangers and teaches them some self defense

✧ be warned these kids are packing a surprise can of whOOP ASS,, dont fuck w them,, plus u wouldnt want buff daddee iwa on ur tail

✧ honestly his kids would be ANGELS ,,, n thats cuz he treats them all so w e l l

✧ mans is ATTENTIVE. he asks his kids about their days, their interests, and encourages discussion about their fEELINGS 🥺

✧ always offers them really valuable and light-hearted advice

✧ and gives them the love and transparency we all wanted but never had--

✧ however his kids are easily (n negatively) influenced esp when uncle oikawa comes to visit--

✧ but mostly bc iwa gets annoyed and slips out a lot of curse words and a “shittykawa” and then his kids started calling oikawa that and now it’s ingrained in them forever fjoefefgfvi (*distant phlattykawa crying noises*)

✧ gives them LOTS of head pats and ruffles as signs of affection

✧ PACKS THEIR SCHOOL LUNCHES and ensures they eat a balanced meal

✧ attends all their games/events,, will get a bit rowdy hype them up

✧ def lets his kids sleep with him when they’re having a bad night or woke up scared from a nightmare (and waits for them to fall asleep before going to sleep himself fojref)

✧ when they were babies he usually succeeded to get them to stop crying by pulling funny faces, showing them their favorite cartoons, or humming a lullaby

✧ when they get older,,, u bet iwa would be suPER protective esp when their kids start being iNtErEsTeD in other people

✧ you: “iwaizumi, they seem like a really nice kid, though”

✧ iwa: *sitting with you in the car, across the street from the ice cream parlor your child said they were at, and spying from the window* “you can’t trust everyone, of course they seem ‘nice,’ they just want our approval”

✧ definitely did not interrupt his child’s potential first kiss at their house’s doorstep by slamMINg the door open “sUDDENLY” cuz he “hEard TheIR vOicEs and THougHt TO lET them In”

✧ effectively traumatized both kids

✧ tho he felt bad after n u made him go apologize so he did (and he was forgiven, only if he agreed to never spy on them again--)

✧ doesn’t stop him from scrutinizing every person yalls kid introduces to you tho

✧ overall a super supportive dad, 11/10

ushijima

✧ ok dEF does not know much about parenting ,, at first

✧ stared at his child like ???nani when you both changed their first diaper

✧ also had plenty of staring contests with his babies ,,, called it bonding

✧ was curious and tasted baby food once,,, immediately regretted it

✧ once put a volleyball next to his child, who attempted to bite it, and took it as a sign that they liked it

✧ after sum time n practice, his mind becomes split between “how to volleyball” and “how to dad”

✧ catch him in the kitchen wearing an apron and whipping up his kids’ favorite smiley face pancakes 😤��

✧ has an amazing ability to get his kids to stop crying, does really simple things like give them their favorite toy or place a gentle hand on their hand or attend to their needs (mans can tell if they want food or needa poop) and they calm down immediately

✧ carried them on his shoulders once and now they never stop asking him for shoulder rides (not that he minds anyway)

✧ if theres two kids he can probs carry one on each shoulder cuz cmon ,,, have u seen this man

✧ always goes to every performance/game/event his child takes part in

✧ man smiles so soft™ when he goes to the 1st grade play and sees his kid’s name in the program next to their role as “townsperson b” (next year, they upgraded to “singing carrot” in a play about the food pyramid)

✧ if his kid ends up enjoying volleyball, he will teach them e v e r y t h i n g they need to know

✧ but is overall super supportive of anything else his child pursues and doesn’t push anything onto them, would rather let them choose what they want to do

✧ had n o idea what to do when his kid asked him about the birds n the bees asfghkl

✧ couldnt sleep one night thinking about it and just randomly asks you while yall laying in bed in the dARk like “so our child asked me how babies are made and I told them they came from watermelon seeds” (you: 👁️👄👁️ “come again”)

✧ you: *at the grocery store with your child*

✧ child: *hands you watermelon* “I want a little brother!”

✧ you: “haha of course honey” 👁️👄👁️ what do i do (*later to ushijima* “duhfojhguf we needa get another baby i promised our child a younger brother fohurof” ; ushi: “wat” ; you: “itS YOUR FAULT”)

✧ yall eventually tell them not every watermelon can produce babies only really special ones that are really hard to get fhuoefkfotfi theyre not ready for the truth

✧ another great daddee, we stan

atsumu

✧ knew parenting was stressful esp with bABieS but was like eh it cant be that bad right

✧ think again

✧ g o o d b y e s l e e p

✧ develops phat bags under his eyes, responds with a weak “aha im fine just that parenting life and the kids ykNOW” whenever his teammates ask if he’s oKAY

✧ tried to tempt his kids to eat their mush baby food by trying it himself, nearly gagged but was able to say “eughh yuMM”

✧ loves to lift them high up in the air, even throws them up a little and nearly drops them (yall almost died from feAR but babie was having so much fun,,, yall agreed to be just a bit more careful)

✧ rlly bad at getting them to stop crying, gets very stressed when he’s exhausted every option he can think of then calls you over for some help/advice (you: *immediately calms them down* ; ratsumu: “how--”)

✧ calls up osamu a lot to ask him how to make food ,, then simps whenever his twin brother comes over and the kids are in love with this man and his cooking (”dad why cant you make stuff as yummy as this”)

✧ very affectionate with his kids, gives them lots of hugs and kisses on the forehead

✧ plays with them a lot! whether it’s sports, just dance, animal crossing, or UNO, yOU NAME IT WE PLAY IT

✧ also has no mercy when playing competitive video or board games,, has made them cry more than once LOL

✧ so sometimes he toned it down n let them win,, until his kids actually got better and DEMOLISH him every time

✧ is cool with his kids cursing, just as long as they don’t do it in front of their teachers LMAO

✧ plays innocent when he gets a call from school saying his kid was using ‘inappropriate language’ and is like “whaaat? my child? im not even sure where they learned that, maybe check if the other kids in class are saying those things, too--”

✧ reminisces how much nicer his kids were to him when they were younger and all the time they spent together,,, bc now that they reached their tEeNS they want alone time

✧ wants to be B) cool dad so he tries kinda hard, esp in front of their friends but his kid’s just like dad pls dofjrgjigtgro

✧ also very supportive of whatever his kids want to pursue and dedicates time to help them in whatever ways he can (whether that be to help them practice, make sure he can provide transportation, get them supplies, etc)

✧ always playfully competing with you to see who’s the “better” parent (you win by default)

✧ PROTECTIVE dad and will easily intimidate ANYONE who crosses his kids

✧ takes sum adjustment and mental resilience but daddee atsumu perseveres 😤 absolutely loves his kids and would do anything for them

#haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #ushijima x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x you #haikyuu daddies #LOL #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi haijime x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #atsumu miya #ratsumu #atsumu miya x reader #haikyuu reader insert #requests

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wakanai · 1 year ago

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I started out just wanting to do one meme but one thing led to another and I ended up having waay more fun than I intended to lol. Here's some stuff I came up with + some side notes that live in my head that I might end up regretting later. But I'm in the feels rn so here we go lol:

I'm actually not sure if this is accurate but I wanted to try lol

based off a comment I saw recently about how that person doesn't feel comfy on twt

I'd tag them but we ain't close so prob not TT

we actually had a convo regarding this

all's well that ends well

I thank God so much that I'm free of that person now. the amount of times He's saved me from toxic people including myself - yeah God's real and he's good and he's there. I'm christian btw.

I think I'm slowly becoming more comfortable sharing my thoughts the more I do so tbh haha #improvement i guess

yeah I had my own akutagawa era. This person was the toxic Dazai to my lil aku lol.

I think we've all had this at least once lol

yk that one person you really admire but you know deep down that they aren't as interested in you as you are in them?

if that's you, dw you're in good company (me lol)

let's move on together hahaha

*parties not "parites" 💀

#Notocodependency

boundaries are v important

transparency too. it's impo. to be honest w your friends about your feelings and the things they do

welcome to an episode of I-personally-can't-relate-but-I-think-it's-funny-so-I'm-going-to-make-this-meme-anyways.

#CRBDSA (can't relate but doing so anyways).

CRBDSA

yeah, pretty much me whenever I consciously make a bad decision.

I had this thing as a kid where I'd have a crush but when they like me back, I lose interest

wasn't interested in actually having a relationship lol

I once came to school without a bra in 7th grade. My female teacher approached me and asked me about it. LOL you're welcome for the second hand embarrassment :)

thankfully, no pervs or anything. I genuinely thought no one would notice cause the uniform was thick (turns out the back is slightly see through so that's how the teacher knew lol)

someone pls kill me I don't want to relive my first year of high school. the me back then was so cringe i can't -

yk what's ironic? when you have work to do, you want to sleep early. when you actually have time to sleep early, you don't.

respect to people who sleep early

yes ofc people can like what they like and hate what they hate but I like Oda sm that it makes me a bit queasy (?) idk if that's the right word, but just a bit sad/uncomfy when I see negative Oda content lol

I really like Oda. I could make a whole post about how much I like him. I like his whole concept, his care and understanding for Dazai, his relatability, etc. While I'm at it, let me just go and talk about some things about him haha. Apologies to non-Oda stans.

I love how he's the embodiment of dry friend energy (in a good way). He's just so calm and comfortable in dark era. Yk how sometimes you just feel like talking in a mellow tone and not really being that energetic when you talk/text someone? I love how he's like that and doesn't feel ashamed - doesn't feel the need to match Dazai's energy or be overly loud. He's just himself and I like that.

He's the adorable assassin turned loveable idiot. I like how he's kinda dumb sometimes (like me) and his friends don't mind it at all lol.

He's cool.

["Because there's only one story I want to write, and it's in here." I tapped my temple. "Unfortunately, I don't have the necessary tools or skills to bring this story to life. I feel like a lost mountaineer standing before the tallest, most sacred mountain in the world with just a single, tiny ax" ] --- Oda Sakunosuke, Beast LN, page 118.

^^ you hear that? That's the sound of Oda being relatable. Slay king. Asagiri was probably projecting as he wrote this LOL.

now that I've said some positives, one scene Oda had that I didn't 100% enjoy (although, it really wasn't meant to be enjoyable) was in dark era, where he was quite literally willing to let Dazai kill Ango/didn't do anything to stop it.

Granted, I don't think he would have been the same with Dazai if Dazai actually killed Ango but still, it's quite sad

He implies that nothing he'd do would change anything.

["Even if I took Ango's side there, nothing would change. There was no way to break out of Dazai's trap...and the orphans at the restaurant would be killed if I betrayed the Mafia."] - Dark Era LN

(daang. you can really feel his insecurity from here. also the fact that he believes Dazai would kill the orphans if he did something - not that I blame him tho. Dazai was really dark, unpredictable and hurt. He threatened Ango because he was hurt by his betrayal so just imagine if Oda "betrayed" him too. LOL someone stop me before this turns into a dark fanfic).

Another thing though.

["Even if I took Ango's side there, nothing would change."]

This is oddly similar to Dazai's fatalist way of thinking that there's no point in trying because everything he has will be taken from him anyway.

Watch me make this into a whole analysis about Oda and Dazai lmao. They're actually really similar.

Oda having low self-esteem and being passive meanwhile Dazai IS ALSO passive and is literally just bopping around in darkness because he has nothing else to do. One big difference though is that Oda has hopes of leaving the Mafia once the kids are old enough to take care of themselves. But for now, he's also just bopping around and idk if he's actually tried to write a novel or if he was also just waiting for "the right moment" in that regard?

Anyways.

I like Oda so much that I actually made a whole tailored version of him in my head

Yk..I have this thing called 'Side Character Syndrome' where I get attached to side characters because of their charm and untapped potential and I just make them into my own characters in my head. I modify some things, give them backstory, give them plot, give them character development, etc. The fics that go on in my mind, man. I take side characters, make them my own, and make my own "mind" fics where they play a bigger role and stuff. LOL. I love my HC/fanfic Oda a lot.

The fanfic Oda I have in my mind is very similar to Oda but is kind of different as well. Hard to explain but just know that I like Oda Sakunosuke very much hehe.

He's my favorite character.

Onto the next meme.

omy, is this my Mori kinnie moment? LOL.

yes, I used to be conscious (still am to an extent lol)

look at my pinned post and you'll prolly understand more

when I had almost 0 followers, I reblogged a post about Oda not understanding Dazai. I didn't agree with it but I reblogged it anyways cause it was interesting. Anyway. fast forward and now that I have followers, I'm conscious about reblogging stuff I disagree with cause then I'm like "but what if XX thinks I agree with this" and so on.

yes, I'm working on it. Just post whatever and enjoy. Anything else is moving onto loser territory. <33

POV you're Oda Sakunosuke

Hehe this hits different if you've read Dark Era and Beast

random thought but I want Ango to get more page time and know more about his character, how he was affected by it, his development, etc.

I'm going to share something personal and say that I have some eating problems lol

It's not serious enough to be a disorder but it's just really bad eating habits that I need to improve on

working on it though. let's go. ✊

yayyy. and that's it. Special thanks to OP for this fun challenge. It was really great hehehe :) AND I'M GLAD THIS IS LIKE - prolly the lonest post I've written so far. lol.

Thought this shot from the Dark Era would make an amazing meme template, feel free to use it

(and tag me if you do cause i want to see what you come up with)

#I'm honestly just posting to the tumblr void #it makes me feel comfortable when I feel like I'm just posting for myself and not expecting others to see it #at first i wasn't sure what to do with this template so I just kept thinking #but the more I thought the more ideas came out #thank God #I'm having fun and I think it's been a while since I've had this much fun just by myself doing something on tumblr #thanks OP! :)))))#<33333333333333 #tumblr is fun #and #i influenced one of my friends to be encouraged to download it #influencer /j #lol #fun challenge #bsd #bsd memes #bsd meme making #oda sakunosuke #dazai osamu #ango sakaguchi #dark era #also if someone has any comment regarding what I said in this post pls share #I'm open to any discussion about bsd whether yall agree w what i said or not #i just enjoy seeing ppl discuss things #it makes me think critically

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madmiriam · 4 years ago

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My Mando (Din Djarin) /oc's backstory idea (includes alot of rexsoka shipping)

Warning!! : I can't spell for toffee and Tumblr deleted all of my proofreaders edits. Obviously she doesn't want to do it all over again so I've had to make do.

(a clan of three by madmiriam (Me)

We all love the mandalorian, Din Djarin is so sexy as single dad and we all love him for it. But this makes it hard to write and engageing original character to go with this perfect specimen of a man, one that we can really connect with. Well I have a salutation, to connect with a character it helps if that character is also connected to a character/characters that you already know and love. So I give you my original character Jaig.

Look:

Like the picture above, originally I wasn't going to have Din and Grogu in it at first but I have a habit of making life difficult for myself, so your welcome.

Personality:

As an adult, she's calm and patient and has a sarcastic sense of humour.

As a child, she has a bubbly personality, a contagious smile, and an insatiable curiosity.

Strengths:

she finds it difficult to truly hate anyone, no matter what they've done, she proffers to look at the reasons behind the actions of others before jumping in for revenge, that's not to say she doesn't get angry at people, but her anger is not fuelled by hate. She has been fully trained in the use of weaponry, such as guns, granaids and other such, and has had a small amount of training with a lightsaber when she was younger. But afters a experiencing a tragedy at the age of 9 she hasn't touched one since, she proffers the us of DC hand guns. She is also a fairly good pilot and mechanic.

Weaknesses:

back when she was a child she had a hard time using the force when when overwhelmed. If the thoughts and feelings of others got to much, she would become force blind. When she grows older, (for certain reasons you will find out later on in. This story) she completely cuts herself off from the force. Unless her emotions get to much go handle, then the force would almost explodes out of her. She also doesn't do well when she's alown. Having grown up in various large family atmospheres. If she is not around people she cares about and loves, she will become closed off a dipressed.

Back story: (now bear with me, this storyline is set before she meets Din, its just an introduction to this character)

Jaig (due to her small Jaig eye like markings, and her father's personal connection to the simble) is the daughter of ex jedi padawan Ahsoka Tano and her mate/husband Captain Rex. She looks mostly human like her father, with the same amber eyes and his family's dark hair. But with the same facial structure of her mother, and a slightly darker and olive tinged skin tone. She also has distinct white making that were almost identical to her mother's. Except instead of diamond shapes on her forehead, she has jaig eye like markings. She was born 6 years after the clone wars ended, while her parents were on the run from the empire. Rex and Ahsoka had found it impossible to part from one another after the events of order 66, and after travelled from place to place avoiding the empire for a long time. Their feelings for one another grow, and they eventually married through the use of mandalorian marriage vows.

They built a home in the stars, and after a few years, to their great surprise and happiness they conserved and had Jaig. Things were finally looking up with the birth of their new found hope for the future.

(Their new found hope for the future/baby Jaig by madmiriam (me)

But it was not to last. It was hard enough to hide themselves, a clone and a ex jedi from the empire. But now adding a force sensative baby to the mix as well, it made it damn near impossible for them all to stay together. Which; after a terrifying encounter with one of the Empires Inquisitors, forced them to make the difficult decision to part ways. Rex would head off insearch for a new home and hopefully find and de-chip as many brothers as he could. While ahsoka would keep traveling around the stars with Jaig. Avoiding the empire and its ruthless inquisitors, whilst trying to help Jaig build up her Shields. They both agreed to keep in touch and once Jaig's Shields were up and safely secure,(which for the average youngling would take 5 years or so) they would rejoin each other and dicided what to do next. But a year after their separation Rex's comms and messeges had stopped all together, and by the time Jaig had reached the age of five and had built up some suitable shields around her mind, neither she or her mother had herd from her father in over 4 years. Her mother was adament he was still alive, but as she grew older Jaig had a hard time believing her. For if he was alive why hadn't he come to find them? Why was he not answering her mothers messages that she still sent on a regular basis?

By the time she was 6 her mother was approached by Bail Organa, in regards to starting a rebellion, and that is what they spent the next 4 years working towards, staying in the shadows gradually building up a resistance to eventually overthrow the empire.

She and her mother met the ghost crew when she was 9 (the same age Anakin had been when he was found by qui gon) and after an uncomfortably close encounter with a mysterious Sith lord called Darth Vader, Jaig's mother disided it was time to bring her father into the fold, and sent Jaig of with the ghost crew to find Rex.

When meeting her father she had opted to wear a scarf to cover her face markings and, chose to withhold her name, and who she was until she found out more about the man who was her father. She was apprehensive about him. As she had no memorie of her dad, for she was only a baby when he left. The only thing she did have, was this warm comforting feeling that she felt whenever her mother spoke of him. A feeling of being held to a large ferm chest in two equally large and ferm muscular arms. Wrapped in a soft wool blanket. Her mother told her that this was the force making an imprint on one of the more emotional moments of her like. But all the same, she proffered to be cautious.

After spending some time with Rex and his bothers. She found her self really enjoying there company. Aspecially her father's. Who dispite having no idea who she was, had already shown that he had a clear paternal instinct. Particularly when teaching her and Ezra how to fish for "Big Bongo". However Kanan who clearly didn't trust Rex or his brothers had spent most of his time hovering around ether her or Ezra protectively, eventually telling them about his exspirence with order 66, an event her mother never talked about.

After seeing the heartbreak on her father's eyes at the memories he and Kanan spoke of. She desided it was time to tell him who she was. But that decision was cut short however when she overheard Rex telling Ezra that he wasn't going to come back with them. Even though he now knew her mother was alive (1 year after separating when the message's stopped he thought both his wife and child to be dead) Jaig ran of in tears when hearing this. She climbing down the ladder of the the AT-TE and walked ferther in front of the walking monstrosity. Away from everyone else. She had finally gotten used to the idea of her father coming back with them. Had become exited by it even. But now, the fact that he was refusing to come with them. Back to his home, his wife, to her. It hurt and overwhelmed her, more than she could say.

She didn't however see what happened after. When Sebine came out and acused Rex of selling them out, of contacting the empire and never answering Ahsoka's messages; at which point he finds out about how Wolfe had withheld all the messages from Ahsoka for 8 years. Thinking he was protecting his brothers from a potentially vengeful jedi. Rex was furious at Wolfe for hiding his own wife's messages to him, and coursing him to miss so much of his only child's life.

Rex: "we have a daughter Wolfe!!! My Jaig, my baby girl doesn't even know who I am because of you!!!"

Wolfe:(was shocked and full of regret when hearing this) "I.. I.. Didn't know... Rex I'm sorry, I didnt know"

Ezra:(recordnises the name) "wait Jaig? you meen our Jaig, Jaigs your daughter?"

Rex: "wait what?"

At this point they hear a shrill scream coming from down in front of the AT-TE. It was Jaig, she was being attact by the prob droid that had been sent by the empire.

The clones immediately go into action. Rex is handed a rifle and gets ready to shoot the prob as it backs his daughter into the ground. His ames and shoots true, killing the droid with one foul shot and then quickly dashes down to retrieve his daughter from under the sparking remains of the droid.

Jaig is in hysterics at this point. Having been taken by surprise by the droid along with the emotional turmoil of potentially losing her father all over again. She then resigned herself to just sit there and cry over how foolish she was for even seeing the attack coming. But now she was being held in the familiar strong arms of her father as he held his only child for the first time in over 8 years.

Rex: "I'm here sh shh, I'm here Ik'aad senaar (baby bird, a nickname he gave her as an infant) daddy's here, daddy's got you"

He says carefully stocking her familiar dark brown hair (that was now flowing free as her scarf had fallen loosely around her shoulders, revealing her beautiful face to her father who's eyes were now brimming with unshed tears) to calm her down as he picking her up and takes her back to the AT-TE. Where the others are waiting with bated breaths. Wolfe was holding a blanket out to wrap his shacking niece into and Gregor quickly dashing off to get her a hot chocolate hoping to make her feel better.

Jaig: "I was angry. Upset. You said you weren't coming home and, then everyone felt so angry and scared all at once. It was to much. (sighs) I have a hard time controling the force when I get overwhelmed like that. I couldn't even sence the prob. I'm. I'm sorry"

She exsplans after she sits down and has a few sips of the hot chocolate that had been placed in her hands. Accompanied a number of comforting back rubs from both her father and her uncles.

Wolfe apologies to her. Explains that he's the reason her father had been out of her life for so long. That he was just trying to protect his brothers but ended up hurting his other family because of it. And tells her he understands if she hates him.

Jaig: "your Wolfe aren't you? Uncle Wolfe? Mum (she has a slight clone like accent that they haven't noticed before) told me about you, said you worked with Grandpa Plo"

Wolfe: 😳"Grandpa Plo? 😂 Boy he would have loved to have herd you say that"

He said, both of them smile at each other, Jaig having forgiven her uncle for his laps in judgment.

All seemed well again until the empire calls them back to get the clones to hand over the rebels. The clones now fueled by the new found need to keep their new family out of harms way, tells the empire where they can stick it, and quickly try to usher the ghost crew along with Jaig into the phantom so they can escape While they all get ready to fight.

Jaig: "but I just found you, mum told me to bring you home, I can't leave you behind, da.. Please don't go"

She says clutching at his shirt as he huged her tight before holding her out to face him,

Rex:"no one's abandoning anyone. Jaig look at me (tilting her head to look. Into her eyes, eyes that matched her father's) we're soldiers Ik'aad senaar, this is what we were born to do, but this time we have something to fight for.. Its going to be OK, (presses his forehead against hers) I love you my Jaig eyes, I've loved you from the I first held you. Ha you were so tiny. I didn't want to let you go back then and I don't want to do it again now, but like last time it's something I have to do, to keep you safe, my Ik'aad senaar, (kissed her forhead lovingly) tell your mother I'm sorry I couldn't make it home, and... And I love her ok."

He says before sending her back into the phantom, closing the door behind her before she can stop him.

Things then pan out like it does in the show, the phantom goes back to help the clones take down the walkers and Rex then decides he's not gonna spend any more of time away from Ahsoka and Jaig and choses to return with them and join the rebellion.

The reauion between Rex and Ahsoka continues the same, but insted of just a hug Ahsoka goes in for the kiss (how it should have always been in my opinion).

(this art work was done by @nottonyharrison (please note: this image was used with the permission of the artist,) please go check them out, as you can see their art work is stunning)

They spend most of there time with the ghost crew, Ahsoka makes the Ghost her base to return to after missions, and Rex teaching combat and war strategies to both Ezra and Jaig, but mostly to Ezra, Jaig was; in his opinion still to young to get to deep into the oncoming war.

Rex:"let her be a kid for a little longer at least".

Jaig and Ezra had eventually become good friends, Jaig looking up to him as something of an older brother, following him every where he went like a little shadow. At first Ezra was annoyed, and try to get away from her at every turn. But after a while he found he quite like having someone look up to him for a change. As before her, he had been dubed the baby of the group with the most to learn. But now he had Jaig hanging on his evey word like it was gold. He found he enjoyed the new found responsibility.

Unfortunately with her shadowing Ezra so much. This meant she got into all kinds of trouble with him. Trouble that mostly involved them running down the corridor with an angry Zeb chasing after them. Zeb really didn't seem to like Jaig very much. Said it was like having two Ezras, and one was quite enough. However other trouble also included a short but terrible trip to malachor, where after being told she can't come along she choses to stow herself away on the phantom in the small rashon hold built into the floor, shielding her mind from her mother as they flow through space.

Ahsoka: (on a call to Rex) "well I definitely out rank you😉... 😟How Jaig doing?"

Rex: "welp she's not happy, she gone and hidden herself in one of thoughs little critter caves again, I'm making her favorite tonight so I know she'll show up by dinner time, but all the same😔..."

Ahsoka: "hay don't take it to heart Rex, you and I both know this is how she deals with being left behind for anything, she finds a small place to hide and sulk it out, just be ready with a plate of nuna and a hug and she bounces right back😄🙁 when she comes out tell her I love her, and I'll be home soon"

Rex: "I will🙂😟... May the force be with you" they hang up.

It's Ezra who ends up finding her, just after they land. Pointing her out to a stressed out Kanan and a very cross Ahsoka,

Ezra: "ummm guys, I think we have a stowaway",

Jaig: "before you get mad..... consider being proud of me, I stayed still for hours in there AND I shielded my mind the whole time, so you non of you even knew I was there"

Ahsoka: "DON'T push it young lady😠what were you thinking!! Your fathers gonna be worried sick!!!! 😤😔 welp since there's no turning back now, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get you back home and thoroughly grounded for a year"

The rest again plays out the same, they find Maul, Maul blinds Kanan, they get the sith holocromb but lose Ahsoka in the fight with Vader, though after seeing Jaig who looks so much like the little snippy girl from his old life, the Anakin in Vader hasitates to kill ahsoka and her child, and insted trys to convince the unwavering togruta to join him with her daughter.

Vader:"the galaxy shall never be safe for her Ahsoka, join me and I can protect her from the emperor. Join me and we can over throw him... Together"

Ahsoka: "how can I trust anything you say. If you were truly Anakin then how can you protect my daughter when you can't even protect yourself"

Jaig: "MUM!!!! MUUUMMMM!!!"

Ahsoka looks at her daughter running to her as the walls of the sith temple come down,

Ahsoka :"I'm sorry Jaig"

She say quietly as she force pushes he child into Ezra outside the temple as it fall around her and Vader out of the site of her family.

When all is quiet and Vader emerges from the rubble, after failing to find his former apprentice, the Anakin in him vows that he will not fail her child, he will do everything in his power to insure his master never find her, even if he has to hide her away himself to do it.

When Kanan, Ezra and Jaig return to base, Rex is in hysterics asking around.

Rex:"have you seen Jaig? Has anyone seen my baby?, its been over two days.. I can't find her..!!."

Jaig:"DADDY!!! 😭"

Rex turns to see her running out of a newly landed phantom in tears. Now knowing exactly where she'd been he quickly runs to her and scoops her up in his arm clucking her close to his chest in relief that she was home.

Rex:"you.. Are going to be the death of me, hey sh shshsh hey, hey what's the tears? what happen? where's your..? ."

(a father's comfort, ruff drawing by madmiriam (me)

He couldn't finish the sentence as he looked around and sure two other people emerging from a now empty ship, neither one of them was his wife. Ezra looked him in the eyes and with out saying a word, he knew. He knew Ahsoka, his Ahsoka was gone. He closed his eyes, sheding one silent tear as he held his girl tighter, and slowly carried her away, away from the crowd, but not away from the heartache.

After the loss of her mother, Jaig's once bubblie personality had diminishes somewhat. She refuses to leave the side of eather her father or the members of the ghost crew. She goes on a few missions with them and liston to every word her father says about ways of fighting, fighting to protect herself and the people she loves. Before heading to a mission on geonosis he gives he one of his old DCs. (its twin had been lost in battle during the clone wars and he had gotten a replacement pear, but he had always kept his first well maintained in case he ever needed it)

Rex: "I know it's no lightsaber, but if will keep you and the others safe when used properly"

Jaig: "I don't want a lightsaber any more, 😔sabers get you killed"

Rex: " not all of them Ik'aad senaar" he sighs kissing her forehead "not all of them".

But even this would not last. When it came time for the empire to attack chopper base. Vader sends his own secret troops of undercover purge troopers to find and retrieve Jaig, and to also fake her death so both the empire and the rebels would not come looking for her. This of corse left Rex in his lowest point yet. After watching the ship he had put his daughter on to be evacuated blow up before it even left the ground. He found it hard to not simply drop all his defences and just calming walk into the flames after her. If it hadn't been for Zeb he probably would have. These kind of thoughts invaded his mind so frequently after that day, it was hard to remember when they didn't. He had lost both his wife and now his child. His hope and his reason for fighting were gone, and he wanted to go after them. But he couldn't. Not while there were still people to fight out there, the people who took everything for him and was still grabbing for more. People who his wife started this whole rebellion to fight against. No, he would keep fighting, as long as there is still even one imperial still left alive he would live and fight, until every last one of then were wiped out of existence. (that's gonna take a while)

Meanwhile Vader and Jaig finally meet properly face to mask. Jaig is having a hard time counselling her fear. But Vader was also having difficulty concealing his pain. Pain that had lingered since the moment he had emerged from that crumbled down sith temple, with no sign in the force or otherwise of his once padawan,. The last family he thought he had, that had not betrayed him, who had(once she had seen his face underneath his freshly cracked mask) said she wouldn't leave him, not again. But she had left him, not by her own design he knew, but she had left him all the same. And she had also left a child behind, a child like the one Padme would have given him if it weren't for both the sith and the jedi.

The jedi, who had forced his hand in turning to the dark side, by telling him he should just let Padme die for the good of the galaxy. The jedi who had abandoned his padawan, his little sister, his first child (if he could go so far as to say) in her time of need, and then exsept her to come back all smiles, acting as though her whole ordel was just a trial to prove herself to them. When it was them who should be providing themselves to her.

And the sith,. The sith who had manipulated him from day one to become what he is now, the sith who had taken every thing he had, his wife, his child, his brother/father figer, his little sister/daughter and his friends. The clones. His home all gone for the sake of his masters new empire😡. Yes he new this had been his master's plan all along, the war the clones, the inhibitor chips. All to gane more and more power for himself and to distroy the jedi in his wake. Dragging Anakin down into the darkness with him, and he would do the same thing to Jaig given the chance. Vader could feel the raw power of the force rolling of her, the energy mix with her fear would be a prime canderdate for Sidious's manipulation, should he ever discover her existence.

No!!! That would not happen, neither the sith or the jedi would have her, he would not alow it.

Jaig:"I know who you are.. I know what you did... You tryed to turn my mother before killing her, but you wouldn't turn me, you hear me, I.. Will.. Not... Turn"

She says her voice shacking with her body in fear.

Vader:"no... You will not..."

Jaig: "then why am I here? I haven't done anything to make you hate me.... At least... I don't think I have"

Vader:"I do not hate you Jaig, like your mother, much to my masters great..... disappointment... I could never hate you"

It was true. He couldn't hate her. Couldn't bring himself to hate her. But he couldn't love her either. He had no more love left in him to give. But he could protector for the sake of someone he had loved.

Jaig: confused "then.. Then please let me go, I won't tell anyone if that's what your worried about, I just want to go home, I want my dad, please I just want my daddy😰"

Vader: "you father's fate is.... Regrettable. However it is a necessary evil, it is emperative that he believes you to be dead"

Jaig: "why what did he do to you? what did any of my parents ever do to you?!"

Vader: "as shocking as it may sound, these actions are not done out of hate. You will know this soon enough but for now, I must focus on getting you as far away and as hidden as possible" he then calls in a trouper with red and black armor.

Vader: "CC-2224 I trust your men are ready"

Cody: "ready and awaiting orders.. Sir"

Cody says through gritted teeth not bearing to even look at his once general's masked face.

Vader:"good, I trust the surgery was a success for all of them?"

Cody: "yes.. Sir.. Though we are all having adjustment issues due to recent ... and.... less recent events"

Vader: "thoughs... issues.... had better not interfere with the performance of your mission commander, you and your men have been chosen for one reason and one reason only, and it is for your loyalty to her safety. I can feel your hatred for me commander Cody (Cody inhails sharply at the sound of his name) but I also know enough about you and your brother's to know that they will not let this anger get in the way. I trust you all know the consequences that await you should you fail"

He ignites his blood red saber to put more emphasis on his point.

Cody:"yes sir"

Vader:"very well, now take her and go, and protect her with your life, I shall make my own way back to base as some as I can, her training with began immediately after my return, so be sure to proper her, but until then you already know what to do".

Cody noded before walking over to Jaig, then bent down and gently but fermly lifts her out of her seat, and quickly carry her out of the cell, down the hall and, through the, docking Station towards a unmarked referbished gunship.

Jaig: "where are we going? "

She said with a soft whimper. She was relieved to be away from Vader but still felt apprehensive with the idea of being taken away yet again in the arms of this.. Purge trooper, at lest she thinks it's a purge trooper, she had never seen one before so she could only guess.

Cody: "sh sh it's gonna be OK little one, I'm taking you some were safe, but we have to hurry now"

Jaig:"why?"

Cody: "no one on this ship other than Vader knows we're here and we have to keep it that way kid"

Jaig:"why would you need to hide from your own men"

Cody:"cuz you never know whos watching, I'll explain more when we get off this ship and into hyperspace"

Once they were on board the gun ship, that had been modified to acomidate long period space travel. The modifications included everything from comfortable seating to a working hyperdrive. Cody set her down in one of the seats and strapped her fermly in before heading to the cockpit, leaving her now surrounded by four more purge troopers (hardcase, fives, dogma and waxer, who I'm gonna say lived, cuz I have attachment issues, boil is in the cockpit piloting the ship) who are all looking at her intensely through their helmets. (hardcase and fives are in borrowed discises, after Fives finds out about the chips he and hardcase desert the army and decide to strike out on their own to try and find out more about the chips and their perpose, unfortunately they were too late to do anything about it before oder 66 happened. They have been on the run ever since, until Vader aproches them, informing them that he has been keeping tabs on them, and had been insuring the empire believes them both to be dead, and tells them of the mission, they agree to help because it's Rex and ahsoka's daughter they'll be protecting, but only under the condition the they only report to a de-chipped Cody and all other clones included in the mission must also be de-chipped as well. Vader had agreed to this as he was going to have their chips all removed anyway, to prevent any itchy trigger fingers being near his new force sensative)

Once they're in hyperspace Cody returns to the main area of the gun ship, where the other clones are crowed around a frightened looking Jaig

Waxer: "is this her? Wow she looks so much like her mum"

Fives: "she has our eyes though, our wonderfully handsome eyes"

hardcase: "and out hair, Ha!! I knew Rex's hair wasn't naturally blonde😂"

Dogma:" technically Hardcase, her hair being brown isn't proof that his is to, she could have just gotten the hereditary Jango gen of dark hair"

Fives:"aww suck the fun out of it why don't you"

Cody: "guys back up, give her some space, your freaking her out, and take off your buckets, I don't think they're helping"

When their buckets were removed Jaig was shocked to see five versions of her father's face looking down at her, all old and a little worse for where's, but all very much clone. She recordnises three of them from her father's holopad.

Jaig: "Fives?"

Fives:😃 "yeah! Yeah kid, that's me your☝️ Uncle Fives (he kneals down taking her hand in his, giving it a quick squeeze, before turning to Cody) she recordnised me first that must kill you😁"

Cody: 😠 "only cus you have a, dirty great 5 on your forehead You Di'kut"

He said before knealing down in front of her

Cody:"hey kid, sorry I couldn't introduce myself earlier, I'm your.."

Jaig:"Uncle Cody"

Cody:😁 "yeah kid (to Fives) SEE!! over there are your uncles Dogma, Waxer, Hardcase and back there in the cockpit is your uncle Boil, I know your probably not used to this many of us, but there's more we're we came from where we're going, though they live un a different fasilaty to ours, but every single one of them would be whiling to keep you safe if they knew. So you don't have to worry, we're not gonna let anything happen to you"

Jaig "but Vader.."

Cody: (places both hand at the side of her head and looks her dead in the eyes) "isn't going to TUCH you, not if we have anything to say about its, he may be our sponser, and he will be coming round every so often to check on you and train you. But you'll have several hundred or so uncles on the planet ready and waiting with fully loaded blasters should he ever try to hurt you, us 6 especially as we're the only clones there that know about you yet and we're gonna be living under the same roof, as you and one of us will always be close by to help you. OK kid, it's all gonna be ok (he says hugging her) your safe now"

Jaig: "but I don't want to be trained by Vader, I said I wouldn't turn and I meant it"

Cody: "it's alright, its alright. The one thing Vader has assured us of, is it he will not be training you in the dark side. And judging by the amount of effort he's putting into keeping you hidden, I'm inclined to believe him. He told us that you must block your self off from the force, what ever that means. Which is what he's going to show you how to do. Apparently it's the only way to keep the emperor off your scent. But like I said, one of us is always gonna be there should he try anything"

Fives:"yeah we'll look out for you kid, I know you miss your dad, and we're pretty poor substitutes, but we're here for you all the same"

Hardcase:"and we're not leaving anytime soon"

Dogma: "well not if we can help it"

Jaig "but where are we going?"

Cody: smile "to the closest thing we clones have to a home... Kamino"

Kamino had changed over the years, once the emperor had ordered to stop to any more clones creation. The cloning fasilaties had been abandoned by the kaminoans, along with all the rest of the untrained cadets who were all shipped of to the mustafa system to be trained and bred as the empires elite force of purge troopers.

The cloning facilities were left to the old now retired clones, to live out their days away from civilisation, many now wolowing in sadness and regret for their actions under the influence of their now un activated inhibitor chips.

The place Jaig and her other uncles were heading, was just a few hundred miles of from the main cloning compound. It had been kitted out with everything they might need, weaponry, shields, a food station, bedrooms, a bunkhouse, a training ground, and a shooting range. The only beings abord were now the clones, Jaig, the cook and the maintenance crew, well I say crew, it consisted of one male Ugnaught named Kuiil and three droid assistants whom he had reprogrammed to help with any and all clean up and maintenance duties.

Jaig would continue to live out there with her uncles for the next 5 years. They would go on to train her with any and all things clone, weaponry, though she had learnt a lot of that from her father's teachings, and the language and teachings of the mandalorian. The boys were insistent that she learn all of what little they knew of their heritage, as they were all descended from Jango, who was of mandolor. Any clone would tell you how proud the clones were of this heritage, and now they had someone to pass it all down to. They even taught Jaig the mandalorian wars songs that they had all learnt as cadets, and the Clone Haka, that had been performed by many clone troops over the years, before battle,. Much to the confusion and quite frankly terror of the B1 battle droids who witnessed them.

Fives: "ha your mum was pritty good at this to"

Jaig: now 12" my mum knew the Haka? "

She said, trying to picture her calm and serene togrutan mother, chanting, stomping and banging her chest along side millions of clones Warriors, all while making different faces and throatle sounds at the droids on the other side of the battlefield.

Hardcase: "oh yeah!! She was a natural, always shouting the chant in her loudest voice and making her scariest war face, like this 🤪😜🤪"

Fives: "and that my dear Jaig, was when your father fell in love🥰"

Vader came over as often as he could spare, when he was sure he couldn't be directed be his master or that anyone following him. Teaching Jaig how to disconnect herself from the force, telling her that if she continues to use it, the consequences would be severe.

Vader:"if the employer was ever to discover you exsisens, he would hunt you down in an instant, and kill anyone who trys to hide you from him. This is why you must never use the force again, and you must never leave. If anyone outside this fasilaty were to learn of your existence, you would be in mortal danger, as would everyone you care about"

Jaig: "but why couldn't my dad come? You could have had both our deaths faked and brought him here with me"

Vader: sighed "he is to mixed up with the rebel alliance, and besides, it was his reaction that sold your death to the universe. A trick I learned from my old master...the hard way"

He said bitterly.

Jaig knew she should hate him, he had taken her from her home, her friends and family. He had taken her mother, and it was because of his foolish decision to trust, a maniac, power hungy, sith Lord, that her family were forced to live in the shadows, and her mother, and father were force into separation when she was just an infant. She didn't like him by any means, she frequently tryed to avoid his at any turn. But she still couldn't feel hatred for him.

Cody: "na that your mother in you, she was never one to hold much of a grudge ether. She got angry at people don't get me wrong but she never hated them. She cryed over the potential execution of a woman who had Framed her for Murder once. And had taken the time to give all her deceased troops, who had tryed to gun her down a funeral. Even though she and your father where now on the run from the empire"

Over the years living there, she became closer with her uncles, or at least most of them. She argued with Boil on an almost daily basis, but they had their moments, she told him and Waxer how she met Numa, who was still fighting for the freedom of her home. She had a difficult time connecting with Dogma. He was very distance from her and didn't talk much. However she did like listening to him read. Dogma who had been a stiff by the book solder his entire life, and had been through so much, found he secretly quite enjoyed the company of his niece. But she spent most of her training with Fives and Hardcase. Both clones always new how to make her smile and told her many stories of her parents during the war, stories not even her parents had told her, (though they never much liked talking about the war), and she had given them a new lease of life, and new perpose. She was probably closest with Cody, he had know her father since they were both cadets, and was determined to teach her everything he knew, but he also showed his softer side with her. There were many a time he would be seen walking down the corridor carrying the young girl who was really getting a bit to big to be held, in his arms fast asleep from a long day.

She had also become quite good friends with Kuiil the maintenance manger, she learnt that he was paying off his debt to the empire through prolonged servitude, he had been in many battles he didn't believe in, until Vader; after seeing his reprogramming skills had, offered him a place on this secret compound. Kuiil had also taken quite a shine to Jaig, she was kind, and eager to learn the inner workings of the machines he fixed.

But yet again, even this would not last. After the destruction of the First Death Star, Lord Sidious had been furious with Vader, he tortured and demoted him. But through his touture he discovered the existence of the child Vader had taken such lengths to keep hidden from him. And through this new information, he devised a plan.

To brake his apprentices even ferther, he would force him to chose, chose between the life of his padawans child, who he had swarn to protect, and the life of his son, that he did not yet know about. But unfortunately for the emperor, he did not bargain for the tactical brilliance of the Clones.

When the empire, came to take the now 15 year old girl, they had already divested their own escape plan. They sent Jaig along with Kuill over to the kaminoan cloning facilities, turned clone retirement home, before the empire even entered the atmosphere. There she was frozen in to carbonite and fastened to the inside of the newly alcoved underbelly of a small one-seater Y wing (to insure the if the empire should come across them she would be well hidden and undetected, Kuiils cover story being that he was delivering supplies to the clones) there Kuiil would then fly far away from any siverlized planet. While, the clones continued to fight and defend the compound as though she was still there, and then proceed to escape themselves, using an old subship left over from the battle of Kamino. But not before bowing the place sky high, making it seem like the empires had fired at the fewl tanks corsing the whole building to be destroyed along with anyone who was inside.

This was not the out come Sidious had wished for, however with the now almost certain death of his ward, Vader plunged ever ferther into the void of darkness and hate. So the desired effect Sideous was planning for was reached anyway.

After being unfrozen from carbonite, Jaig and Kuiil parted ways. She chose to for her father, but it became fruitless. Chopper base had long since been evacuated and the rebel alliance was always one step ahead of her in their attempts to avoid the empire. For 2 years she searched for them, and fought the Empire where she could, until she finally stopped, delving into the belief that what ever family she knew was now gone, she rejoined Kuiil on a deserted planet called Arvala-7, while the galaxy celebrated the fall of the empire. Where for the next 5 years they would both try to live out their lives in peace, working the land and carrying for blurgs, until a mandolorian arrives on their planet, looking for a little green bounty, which starts of a whole new adventure for our now Adult Jaig.

OK guys let me know how I did, and if you would like to see Jaig's adventures with Din Djarin and little green bean Grogu. Let me know. I'm not much of a writer,. But I always got so irratated when reading Din Djarin/oc fics where to make her interesting, they give the oc force powers, with either no build up to it, or she's a run away jedi, which kind of defeats the whole purpose of season 2 were they're trying to find the jedi, so I thought I'd write my own. I wanted to have a character that has both a clear connection to both the mandalorian culture and the force, without making her a mary su. She has a connection to the force. But she can't use it, or control it. Therefore she can't train Grogu to use it. Which would mean they'd have to find the jedi, to help him learn to control his powers. Plus I don't want to just giving her everything with no preplanned reason. So here is my preplanned reason. I know these short scenes and conversations don't really delve much into her personality but that's were you come in. Tell me what you think of her, and what you think she's like as an adult. I wrote a few things like her kind nature and her sarcastic humour. But I could do with some ideas on what you would like to see. Let me know, and...

May the 4th be with you,😉

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bumbleberrysky · 4 years ago

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alexa, play candyshop (bass boosted) | 02

pairing: gabriel x reader genre: soulmate au, canon divergent around s13, hurt/comfort, humour, future smut (probs) wc: 3.7k rating: sfw warnings: same as before, wounded gabriel & removal of those stitches notes: the fire under my ass burns as strong as ever, hallelujah

You knew there was a reason some divine power brought you to the Winchesters all those years ago, but to this day you still have no idea what that reason is. It’s something you’re destined to find out soon though, especially when you return to the bunker after months away and find not only a new face, but one that belongs to someone who up until that point you’d thought was dead. What does his return have to do with the changes you’re suddenly experiencing in yourself? Will you finally find out the reason you’d been brought here in the first place? Maybe…

Chuck works in mysterious ways after all.

prev. || next

Much to your regret, your plans the next morning to continue being a nuisance to Dean are thrown in the bin at his decision to leave early and meet Castiel somewhere a state over for a case that the angel had found. Something about vamps in a mine or something, you’re a bit hazy on the details. You’d only half-listened when Sam filled you in upon your arrival in the kitchen, a good hour after Dean had already departed the bunker.

While you would like to say Dean is completely to blame, the truth is that once you passed out last night you slept like a log and didn’t wake up until mid-morning today, which classifies as a sleep-in of sorts for you. You love sleep, but your body is wired to wake up not long after sunrise, unfortunately. It’s that hunter lifestyle you love to hate.

Sam had huffed a laugh at your face when you found out you’d missed Dean, but otherwise had kept to himself with his healthy breakfast as you went about making yourself a coffee. You tend to be a bit nauseous in the mornings, so a coffee will be enough for you for a few hours. It’s likely your stomach won’t roar in hunger until a bit after midday, as it is wont to do.

“How is your arm?”

Sam’s question breaks you out of the dissociative state you’d slipped into as you sip your coffee, grip on the mug tightening in reflex. It takes a few blinks before your eyes focus back on him, a small smile on your lips.

“Much better, thank you doctor,” you answer, before mumbling into your coffee as you take another sip. “Despite apparent attempts at making it otherwise…”

Sam snorts, not even bothering to comment on that. “I’m glad. Did you have anything planned for the day?”

A contemplative hum escapes you, your gaze wandering to the ceiling. “No, not really. I kind of went hard for a while there, one case after the other, so I’m due for a break. Not much of a fan of burnout.”

Your eyes move back down, meeting his own. “I’m probably going to just hang back, for a bit. Recuperate. I mean, I didn’t get any injury besides my arm, but I’m just… tired, I suppose. Didn’t get much sleep the past few weeks.”

“Of course you didn’t hurt anything but your arm,” Sam rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his smoothie—you’re not a fan of the green tinge it has, but if he likes it then you suppose it must be alright, at least. “You and your stupid good luck. Dean is still mad about last time, you know. When he got splattered in monster guts that just missed you by a centimetre.”

The memory yanks a giggle out of you before you can stop it, almost spilling your coffee as a result of the abrupt movement. “Oh, that was good. I wish I had a picture so I could scrapbook it.”

Sam laughs around a mouthful of food, swallowing it down before he continues. “Dean would kill you.”

“I know, but it would be worth it.” You place your cup down, deciding it a better course of action than continuing to hold it and risking spillage. “Also, I know you think my luck is really good all the time, but it’s kind of just good occasionally. All other times, it sucks.”

“It kicks in when you hunt, though, so I suppose that’s all that matters,” Sam muses, flicking through an article on his phone somewhat distractedly. He hums to himself before turning the screen off and angling his body to you properly, meeting your questioning gaze.

“I’m… I’m gonna need your help,” he says, appearing somewhat sheepish. “With Gabriel.”

You try not to let your sharp intake of breath show, but from the look that flickers through Sam’s eyes you figure he catches it anyway. Your teeth worry your bottom lip for a moment before you can muster a proper response. “Alright. What are you thinking of doing?”

Sam adjusts once more, pushing his plate away, cutlery stacked on top; it’s only now that you realise he’s finished the meal and the only thing left to consume is his smoothie.

“Well, I’m not… entirely sure yet.”

You huff a laugh, attempting to regain a sense of normalcy. It isn’t that you’d forgotten about the battered archangel hiding in a room a few doors down from yours, but it’s moreso that you’d made it a point not to think about it so early in the morning, lest your mood be ruined for the entire day. Thinking of Gabriel… it kind of hurt. You’re not sure you’re ready to sit down and analyse exactly why you’re having such visceral reactions yet.

“I don’t think we can really plan much, here,” he says, features softening with empathy. It reminds you that when it comes to Hell and being tortured, the youngest Winchester isn’t as unfamiliar as you might hope. A pang of something hits against the confines of your chest at his tone and the passing look in his eyes; as always, there’s the useless feeling, the wish you could take away all the bad memories and experiences and make it all better. You know you can’t, nothing can, but you hate seeing your friends in any modicum of pain.

You suppose that includes Gabriel, if the sensations whirling within you at the thought of him are anything to go by.

“We’ll just have to take it as it comes,” you say, taking your mug into your hold and downing the rest of the drink in one go. “Alright! I’m gonna shower and then… I guess we go see him.”

x x

Unlike the Gabriel you were once so familiar with, this Gabriel is decidedly not fond of visitors.

Sam had gone and prepared some things while you’d showered and dressed, and by the time you reappear outside your room you hear shuffling from the direction of the library. Curious, you make your way down the hall, peeking your head in and blinking in only minor surprise at the sight of Sam, his shoulders heavy.

“What’s up, Sam-o-saurus?”

Sam looks up and gives you the closest approximation to a bitch face that you’ve ever received from him, clearly not fond of the new nickname that came to you on the spot like a divine enlightenment. He takes a moment to close his eyes and breathe, though, which is probably for the best considering your mission for the day. It would do none of you any good if he went near Gabriel while all riled up.

“Gabriel is, uh,” he clears his throat, placing down a sterile steel tray in the shape of a bean and small surgical scissors, along with a scalpel. Your gaze strays to the side and sees that it was the first aid box he’d been ransacking as you arrived. “Not very open to visitation from me right now. I think I might be a bit… bit big. He doesn’t really even see me when he looks at me, so I don’t think he realises who I am.”

You wince, trying not to dwell on the information longer than needed to file it away for later consideration. “Oh. Sorry, Sam. You want me to go see if I can bring him out?”

“Please,” the tall man says, gesturing to the tools on the glossy oak table. “I figured we could start by getting rid of those stitches over his mouth, if nothing else. I don’t think he has enough grace right now to stop infection so we should try and reduce the risk.”

His words sadden you, but you know the truth they hold. Your limbs feel a bit heavy as you push away from the doorway.

“Alright. I’ll be right back.”

Gabriel’s allocated room isn’t all that far from the library, and the note on the door sticks out like a sore thumb so you don’t have to worry much about getting lost on the way (ignoring that at this point you know most parts of the bunker like the back of your hand). Once outside his room, something gives you pause though.

Are you ready to see him in that state again? Or is it that a small, tiny part of you fears he won’t recognise you, either?

Ridiculous of you, really. You take a moment to admonish yourself for the thought. If you take a second to factor in the difference in time spent in hell, even without considering all the time he was missing, Gabriel had to have been trapped and tortured for over a century at the very least. Centuries and years might mean nothing to a celestial being who has been alive for millennia, but over a century of fear and torture is a lot even for someone with such impressive mileage.

You shake your head, attempting to clear your thoughts and emotions so you don’t enter his room with an overwhelming aura. Okay, showtime.

A soft knock echoes as your knuckles meet the wood, a moment passing before you speak, attempting to keep your voice as soft and nonthreatening as possible.

“Gabriel? It’s y/n, I’m going to come in now.”

You allow another moment to pass before you ease the door open, blinking in surprise as your eyes are greeted by light—it seems the archangel has every bulb in the vicinity burning its brightest. Understandable, since you presume he wasn’t exactly kept in well-lit conditions.

For a second, you think he’s not in the room. You don’t see him anywhere, and you’re about a split-second away from turning and calling Sam when you catch a glimpse of something shifting in the corner, behind the bulky side of a wooden dresser. You think for a second that you’ve forgotten how to breathe, chest painfully tight, as you realise that the small form huddled and curled in the corner is, in fact, the archangel Gabriel.

You hate that you’d noticed him only because of the filthy scraps of material that stick out against the dark décor of the bunker.

“Hey, Gabriel,” you say softly, keeping the door open so he has a route of escape and moving over as slowly and cautiously as you can. “I’m just gonna come over and sit in front of you, alright?”

You figure that even if he’s not entirely listening to everything you’re saying, it’s better to announce what you’re doing before you do it, for his benefit.

Something painful ricochets off the inside of your chest as you grow close enough to see him around the dresser and you’re confronted with his beaten, bloody and battered figure once more. His gaze is anywhere but you, and the way he presses himself into the corner is like he’s trying to make himself as small as possible. It takes all of your willpower to squash down the unexpected sob that catches low in your throat. What is wrong with you?! You need to get a grip.

“Oh, Gabriel,” you find yourself saying before you can stop. “I’m so sorry…”

The closer you get to him, the lower you try to make yourself in his peripheral. It wouldn’t do any good to startle him by appearing big and threatening. It makes you frown when you remember just who it is that you have to think this way about. It’s sad, you think. The Gabriel you’d known was prideful, glaringly bright and loud in his presence, both as a trickster and an angel, and that he’d been reduced to… well, to this? It made your chest feel heavy.

Slowly and as quietly as possible, you ease down onto your knees in front of him, doing your best not to rush anything. It’s hard—you’re a hunter, used to moving with speed and a sense of urgency. So to take your time and really be in the moment for each of your actions is definitely an odd change from the usual autopilot your brain resides in.

He doesn’t acknowledge your presence once you’re still in front of him, not really. You had expected as much though, and as much as he seems unresponsive you do see the occasional flick of his eyes in your direction before they dart away, like he couldn’t believe he’d dared to look at someone instead of the floor.

For a few minutes, you simply let him adjust to your presence, your company. Ever so slowly, you see the tiniest bits of tension ease from his shoulders, his eyes no longer darting around like a frantic squirrel. You take the opportunity to take in the wounds and sores littering his body, doing your best not to get too upset by what you see. Dirt and grime coats him in layers, and you mentally note that your next goal with him would be to get him in a damn bath.

It can’t be comfortable, sitting in all that grime…

“For the sake of transparency,” you begin when he seems like he will be open enough to listening. “I’ll tell you why I’m here. This is your space right now, and I don’t want to intrude on it unless I really need to.”

He doesn’t meet your gaze, but you sense you have his attention. “Given that right now you’re low on… strength, and not healing as you usually do, we need to take care of some of the worse wounds you have. If we don’t, it’s a risk of infection, and we don’t know how well you would fight that off in this state…”

You clear your throat, attempting to keep yourself on track. “So, if you’re able, we’d really like you to come out just for a moment, so we can fix up some of your sores. I promise that you can come right back in here afterwards, and that unless we have something really important we’ll leave you alone. Sound good?”

He doesn’t nod, doesn’t really move, but the way his eyes move to yours and hold your gaze for a bare second longer than you expect, you gather he’s not entirely against it. You offer him a smile, oddly proud of him. You’d seen firsthand how hard it can be to get out of these mindsets, even just for a moment. Effort is hard and that he’s making it means everything.

“Perfect,” you say, shifting in your spot so you can stand more easily. “Alright, I can help you up, if you’d like, or you can stand on your own if you want. What do y—”

Your hands had already begun to outstretch as you spoke, and you’re taken by surprise when before you even finish speaking his hand is whipping up to grab your wrist in a sort of monkey grip. You’re left blinking as you help him up, moving on autopilot. You expect him to release you as soon as he’s standing, but it adds to your surprise as he wobbles in place and retains his grip, if anything shuffling a little closer.

“Okay,” you say, angling your body and adjusting your grip so that it’s loose and as nonthreatening as possible. “Let’s go. Thank you for cooperating.”

Of course, there’s no response and he’s silent the whole way to the library. You remember that Sam is in there only as you approach the threshold, but unlike what you feared, Gabriel doesn’t seem to react too poorly to him like he apparently had earlier. Risking a glance his way reveals that actually, amongst the frayed and almost manic energy, he seems oddly… grounded, just for the moment.

Well, this is certainly going better than you’d anticipated.

“I went to bully Dean this morning, but he woke up before me and left before I could get to him.”

You’re in the process of cleaning the wounds around Gabriel’s mouth and removing the ugly stitches that have been sewn into his lips. As something to distract him as much as you from what you’re doing, you’ve begun chatting idly to the archangel, unbothered by the lack of response. Sam sits a metre or so away, researching for Dean who had apparently called earlier when you were coercing Gabriel out of his room.

Still Gabriel doesn’t hold your gaze, eyes averted as he leans forward in the chair for you to reach his mouth, but you can tell from the way his eyes occasionally flick to you as you speak that he is listening, somewhat. It’s enough of a win that you’re willing to take it.

He winces each time your alcohol swab goes over the entry point of a stitch, but doesn’t flinch away too badly. You’re pretty proud of him for that, actually, because it must hurt like a bitch.

“You got him yesterday, though,” Sam pipes in from the side, amused as he recalls your arrival. “Barely an hour after you got here and he was quitting and heading to bed.”

“It’s hard being so naturally talented,” you say, placing the swab down and reaching for the small scissors and tweezers. “I’m an absolute delight, and Dean should appreciate that!”

“Has anyone ever believed you when you told them that?” Sam asks, presumably referring to the ‘delight’ bit.

“Why wouldn’t they, Samuel?” you ask, giving the massive man a light spritz of stink-eye. “Do you have something to say to me?”

“Nothing you don’t already know,” he snorts in response, turning a page in the tome he currently has in his lap.

You bite your lip to hide your amused smile, turning back to Gabriel. You place your hand softly on his cheek to let him know that you’re about to go back in for the stitches, before raising the other tool and bringing it to the first of the thick threads woven through his flesh. Wincing, you try and snip it as delicately as possible. Now seems like a better time than any for more distractions.

“If you think I’m bad, you should be glad you never met my grandfather,” you inform the youngest Winchester, successfully severing the first stitch and beginning the icky job of pulling it out. Gabriel makes a muffled noise of pain but remains still, and you pat his hand softly in support. “He could stir the shit out of anyone, man. Like, I’m not even kidding. The bastard gene I got from him was actually watered down by the time it got to me, so count your lucky stars.”

Sam makes a noise of contemplation, like he really is taking the time to thank whatever powers that be— those apparently being Chuck, as you’ve heard— that you’re not more like your grandfather. Honestly, you’re not kidding—they really should be grateful. You loved your grandpa but you’d never met anyone so quick to stir whatever pot may present itself before them. An opportunist with bastardous tendencies, one might describe him.

In the silence that follows, you jump to another topic for the sake of distraction once more—you’re about to move onto another stitch.

“So, now that your mother is here, are you guys actually eating like normal human beings?” you ask, tongue pressed between your lips in concentration as you try to snip the thread as painlessly as possible by manoeuvring the small scissors. “Like, balanced meals with vegetables and shit?”

You hear Sam pause in the motion of turning a page, a scoff turning into a laugh as it climbs his throat. “What—homecooked meals? Our mom? Dude, she’s worse than Dean in the kitchen, and I really didn’t think that was possible.”

You pause your ministrations to face the tall man, squinting. “What? No way. No way is she worse than Dean—”

“We’ve had to replace the fire alarms twice already,” Sam says, meeting your gaze with a look that is full of both fondness and exasperation. He lets out a laugh at your flabbergasted face. “Dude, I wouldn’t believe it either if I hadn’t seen it for myself. You’ll see, whenever she gets back with Jack. She can’t cook but it doesn’t really stop her trying.”

“Another terrible chef joins the ranks,” you proclaim dramatically, pulling the stitch you were working on out and going in on the next one. “Oh, to be able to cook. I suppose this Jack kid is our last hope.”

“He’s not even a year old, y/n,” Sam says, deadpan. “I wouldn’t count on it. Also, you can cook, you’re just lazy.”

You shrug, making a face; he has you there. “I will neither confirm nor deny these allegations.”

Once more, you feel Sam roll his eyes behind you—he should get that checked if he’s rolling them so heavily you can feel it yourself. They’re not even eyes that are in your own skull, man.

You proceed to pull shit out of your ass as you take Gabriel’s mouth stitches out, the metal tin to the side soon filled with scraps of thick thread covered in dried blood and muck. The exit wounds where the thread had been have begun to well with blood, the wounds agitated by the removal of the stitches, and you bring a new cotton pad back with alcohol to clean them up. Gabriel hisses at the contact, and you rush out apologies under your breath as you finish up. You’d forgotten to warn him, and it’s only something small but you still feel bad.

“Alright, that’s done,” you announce, mostly to yourself. You look over him, deciding which wound to treat next, when your attention is drawn to the way he seems to be shaking a little on the spot. He’s not as grounded as he was earlier when he sat down with you, and even though you have much more work to do you can tell intrinsically that this is the most he can take right now. Dressing his other wounds would have to wait until tomorrow.

You turn to find Sam already giving the archangel a scrutinising look, apparently arriving at the same conclusion you had. He gives you a nod and you let out a soft breath, turning back to Gabriel and offering your hands should he need them.

“Okay, I think that’s enough for today. Let’s get you back to the room.”

You can only hope tomorrow will offer the same amount of progress as today.

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#supernatural gabriel #supernatural #supernatural fic #gabriel x reader #supernatural gabriel x reader #gabriel x you #supernatural gabriel x you #supernatural soulmate au #soulmate au #my work #alexa play candyshop #spn fic #spn gabriel #gabriel fic #gabriel series #gabriel fanfic #supernatural series #wing fic

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entity9silvergen · 4 years ago

Text

Why Don’t you Play Me One of Your Songs? (Sanders Sides Fanfiction)

Summary: Logan professes his love for Patton through song.

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Characters: Logan, Patton

Relationships: Logan/ Patton

Other Tags: Valentines Day, Band, Music, Song fic, BoJack Horseman, College

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1500

Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

Written 2021

Author’s Note: As of when I started this, I’d written over 25,000 words for Aromantic Writing Month. With Valentine's Day coming up, I figured I’d take a break from that and write something short with romantic love. This fic was inspired by Judah’s song in BoJack Horseman. When I heard it, I immediately knew I had to write a fic where Logan sang it.

========

It was… How to describe it?

It was entropy.

In thermodynamics, entropy was defined as a measure of the unavailable energy in a closed thermodynamic system that is also usually considered to be a measure of the system's disorder, that is a property of the system's state, and that varies directly with any reversible change in heat in the system and inversely with the temperature of the system.

When Logan was retailing the story for Virgil, his roommate used a much simpler definition. Entropy is the tendency for chaos, the belief that things in order will move toward disorder. Logan had to admit that definition was a bit better suited for his situation. Virgil had called him dramatic and Logan agreed but the word truly fit.

Logan was working at his local library. He was a broke college student and it was about the best job he could get. He liked it just fine. He could get lost in aisles of books, far from the demanding world, and spend hours just organizing. He rather enjoyed it. That was until the library hired another student to man the cafe, that is.

Logan hadn’t liked Patton when he started his job. He was noisy, always striking up conversation with people coming in, and people eating his baked goods never followed protocol. Crumbs. Everywhere. So many that Logan even had dreams about crumbs getting in his beloved books. But when Logan had gone to talk to Patton about it, he found that he couldn’t.

Patton was sweet. And beautiful. Logan couldn’t say a negative thing to his face. He’d actually panicked so hard that he ended up leaving. That night when he came home, Virgil had laughed at him and told him to try to talk to him. It might do him some good to have a friend at work.

Logan had protested but followed Virgil’s advice and talked to Patton. Patton took to him with the same friendliness that he did with everything else. They became friends. And as time went on, Logan realized he was falling in love.

Which brought him to tonight. Or rather, that morning.

“Hey, Lo,” Patton greeted when Logan came by that morning and Logan’s heart had fluttered a bit at the nickname. “What’s that?”

Logan mentally froze for a moment before holding up the case in his hand. “This? It’s, um, my guitar. I’m in a band. A small one. We’re playing later.”

“I know. I saw the flyer.”

It took every ounce of Logan’s willpower not to glance at the bulletin board by the door. Why had he put the flyer up here? Where Patton could see it? Oh right, because Remy had told him they needed people to show up to their concerts if they were going to call themselves a band. But here? Really, Logan?

“So, um, I was just wondering why you hadn’t invited me? I was talking to Roman and Emile and it sounded like you invited everyone else.”

Logan felt a flash of guilt at Patton’s tone. Stupid, Logan. He mentally slapped himself Had he really been so caught up in worrying about his crush that he’d accidentally alienated Patton?

“I know you’re working tonight,” Logan said, the words coming to him with remarkable speed. Words had never failed him but he kind of wished they didn’t come so quick, not right now. “I didn’t… I didn’t want to put you in the position where you felt obligated to come or felt bad saying no.”

Patton’s face softened and Logan felt a bit better. “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’d love to hear you play and I’d cancel my shift to-”

“No!” Logan cut him off before he realized what he was doing. He cleared his throat. More calmly, he amended, “I mean, no. You don’t have to do that. I’m a college student too, I know how important these paychecks are.”

Patton looked doubtful. “Well, if you’re sure…”

“I am,” Logan responded in an even tone that didn’t match the storm of feelings in his chest. “Don’t worry yourself over it, Patton. Maybe next time.”

“Next time,” Patton echoed but Logan was already stepping away from the counter and heading toward his beloved books, failing to see Patton’s disappointed gaze watching him walk away.

But Logan regretted it.

That night, standing up on that stage, he couldn’t help but feel crushing disappointment when he didn’t see Patton’s face in the crowd.

“Go to him, gurl,” Remy said, making Logan turn around, startled. The other man was leaned casually over his keyboard but his eyes were fixed on Logan. “We can survive without you.”

“But-”

“Hey, gurls!” Remy yelled at the crowd. “No vocals tonight! All vibes!”

The crowd cheered. Logan didn’t take offense. The confused glances of his other bandmates did offset him a bit and he offered them an awkward smile before thanking Remy. “Thank you.”

“No prob, gurl. Now get your ass out of here.”

Logan didn’t hesitate.

He’d carpooled here and he didn’t want to leave his bandmates hanging so he just ran. He ran like it was 7th grade PE and he needed to beat his record mile time to pass the class. He ran like Remus was chasing him with a booger on his finger. He ran like he was being chased by death itself.

He ran like he was in love.

But when he burst into the library, Patton wasn’t there.

Logan didn’t know he could feel such crushing disappointment.

He took a seat at one of the chairs at the cafe tables and crumbled. Under the weight of his despondency or out of exhaustion, he didn’t know. He just knew he felt hopeless. Right when he’d found the courage to tell Patton how he felt, he wasn’t even there.

But then he heard the door swing open and there Patton was. He looked stricken but relaxed when he saw Logan. He smiled and drifted over to one of the seats at the counter. “Hey, Lo.”

“Hello, Patton.”

“I closed early to go see you but you weren’t there. Someone told me you left.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

They slipped into silence for a moment. Logan gazed into Patton’s eyes, seeing something unreadable in them. Patton didn’t look away.

“Hey, Logan?”

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you play me one of your songs?”

Logan suddenly noticed he was holding his guitar case in a death grip. He swallowed and nodded, taking care to slip his guitar out of its case. It felt nice to have it in his hands. Grounding. And then the words came to him.

“I strive for precision.”

He sang slowly. His voice was almost hesitant. This wasn’t a song he’d written. It wasn’t a song anyone had written. Logan wasn’t a songwriter. He was awkward with words, always making sentences too long and lacking rhythm. But, he had an even voice so he sang. And sometimes the words just wrote themselves.

“My aim is to be accurate and clear.”

He was hopeful. It wasn’t something Logan could say often. He relied on concrete proof and evidence, not feelings. But hope was a nice feeling. He felt like he could do this.

“I don’t say things I don’t know to be true.”

There were few things Logan knew were genuine truths. This was one of them. He knew it deep in his heart. It resonated in his chest with the words as they formed. And that made him feel at peace.

“So believe me when I tell you I love you.”

His voice cracked halfway through. Logan didn’t look up to see Patton’s face but the words flowed to his mouth almost faster than he could keep up.

“I don’t write good love songs. I’m not adept with metaphors or rhymes. I just want to describe the things I know. And the only thing that I know is that I love you. Please believe me when I tell you…”

He took a deep breath and forced himself to look up from the strings of his guitar.

“I love you, Patton.”

And Patton smiled.

==============

Author’s Note: I tried a different writing style for this. There’s very little detail, more of a tell than a show story, and I did very little editing. Let me know if you like it. There’s a fine line between stylistic choices and bad writing.

#fanfiction #sanders sides #logicality #logan sanders #patton sanders #logic sanders #morality sanders #human au #college au #band au #songfic #bojack horseman #valentines day

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parasolids · 5 days ago

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made this post when 10 years ago and like… i always figured teenage me might’ve actually ended it all if they saw me now. i never did move out to a bigger city or go to art school and become a concept artist, or manage to be a doctor like my parents expected… i do regret some of those things. i like being a car engineer and i worked to get here specifically but it wasn’t what 15 year old me wanted at all

but also like - i never did dye my hair green (i realized my natural black fit my style and skin tone better). i don’t wear gold liner much (kind of a pain to do and i like other colors more). i don’t know if my rook counts as a second ear piercing since i was prob thinking of a lobe? i’ll get around to my second lobes later

still i think teenage cam would be happy to see adult cam’s style and personality at least. got the nose piercing, faking others. wearing lolita to the heavygaze mosh pit. learning to shred on a mint green stratocaster, taking lessons from the guitarist of a favorite band. death growling in my car in the cute pair of doc martens they saw on tumblr in game design class and wished they could wear. finally understanding the things them that they never thought would make sense… do not worry my friend it’s not so bad as you think and you do lowkey become many of the things you want to be

i wanna dye my hair mint green and wear gold glitter eyeliner and red lipstick and glitter blush and lolita skirts with band tees and leather jackets and I want to get a second ear piercing and a nose piercing and scream out my favorite songs in my room but unfortunately my mom disagrees with all of this except the piercings

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hockeysweetheart · 4 years ago

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This is the Ending Of My Story I said Don’t kill me for... I was going for...

So Because I got many many people tell me do the everlark end game in my story I did… The one with that everlark ending will be here I only added here what I was going for without an Everlark ending yes I said those words.

So in my story It was the Day Before Katniss’s and Finnicks wedding. They Get Married but surprise Katniss’s ex Peeta shows up who made their Cake… Turns out he’s been seeing someone else as well. Now they do have a rough patch make up but in the end they do what for the best for their situations.

I get a letter in the mail shorty after her birth… Its from Peeta It says

“ Dear Katniss I know about the baby, Finnick told me. I am so happy for you.. I am sure she is Beautiful like her mother and have quality’s like her father. I know you are already a great mother… I come to write you to let you know I have yet to pop the question to Johanna . I hope to do it soon…. Also I’ll be in District 4 in mid November Hope we can meet up and I can meet that beautiful baby of yours. She is lucky to have parents like you two…Hope I am not a burden for us to meet up but I would really like to talk to you in person…”

I write back

“ Dear Peeta Her Name is Olivia Paige she is the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen But I’d prob say the same thing of all my children. We are doing well here. And Oh I know you will find the right place and time to do that you always do.. I would love to meet up with you when your in I work at the coffee shop in the district. And of course you can meet her… we’d be happy to put you in a room while you stay…”

Mid November when Peeta arrives in District 4.. Al lot has happened since I wrote that Letter. We meet at the coffee shop… Even tho their might be nothing romantic between us I don’t hesitate when we hug… He says “ Well I know I am going to propose to her when I Get home” I say “ That’s great, Finnick got prompted at his job. Which means he can be home a bit more.”… Peeta continues “ But I want to get your opinion on the ring…” Peeta pulls out the ring and acts like he is proposing to me. And says “ Katniss Odair do you think this ring is the one for Johanna Mason?” And shows me a beautiful ring I say “ Yes yes I do”…and I can’t help but laugh of how silly he’s acting and I give him a quick hug and say “ She’s going to love it Peeta I cannot believe your getting engaged”. Peeta just smiles… I continue “ Oh Wanna meet Olivia?”… Peeta Answers “ I sure do” He makes says some baby talk and says with a smirk “ This baby has beauty and brains.. Gets the Beauty from the father” I playful smack him and say “ Well I give you that one no one can deny Finnicks good looks” He smiles a bit… Then Suddenly my phone Buzzes… I look at it and say “Oh Finnick needs to talk to me I better go down to his job.. You know where the hotel is right?” Peeta gets up and puts Olivia back in her stroller and says “ Yeah I do see you later ?” “Yeah that sounds good I answer”

I get to Finnicks work after Dropping off Olivia at her grandma’s house and just am smiling because of how nice it was to see my friend Peeta. But then that Changes when I see Finnicks face. Which looks angry… I almost say out loud what did I do now… But then I remember he knew about Peeta’s for weeks now…. He says “ We need to talk alone”… in an angry tone…I give him a confused look he ignores once the door shuts he says “ How was your meeting with Peeta”… I carefully say “ It was good we were just catching up… Whats wrong Finncik?”… Finnick says almost yelling. “ Katniss I think you know what’s wrong”… I shake my head to tell him no I really don’t . Finnick shows me a Vidio on his phone its of Peeta down on one knee right in front of me and you cannot hear what he is saying but all you hear is me saying Yes ….all I can say is “ Oh my god”… Finnick is Basically yelling at this point “ Katniss we have been married for over a year have a kid together and now when your ex comes back here you want to marry him while you still have my wedding ring on”… I look at him and say Calmly “ Finnick it’s not like that”…. Finnick says loud “ Then what is it like Katniss” Now I am Yelling “ Peeta was just showing me the ring that he got to propose the Johanna Mason, His girlfriend and if your stupid enough to think I’ll leave you like that your wrong” I leave the room slamming the door behind me… Finnick follows right behind and says in a voice I know he means regret “ Katniss I am sorry I jumped to that conclusion”… I smile at him and say “ I am sorry too I shouldn’t of left the room like that”… He hugs me Picks me up swings me around… I am giggling… and he says quietly “ So Johanna and Peeta didn’t see that one coming”… I smile and say “ Don’t think too many saw us as a married couple either”… Suddenly he pins me against the wall and kisses me … I look into those sea green eyes and say “I love you”… and Kiss him back…

What breaks us apart is one of Finnicks coworkers saying “ awe” and then saying “ I ruined the moment didn’t I” and quickly hurries off.. Finnick just Laughs and says “ So I’ll make it up to you tonight” and gives me a wink… I say “ Finnick Odair” and hit his chest “ But I know you have the best surprises”… He smiles and says “ I better get back to work” I say “ Oh don’t be to late Peeta will be at our house for dinner”.. I give him a quick kiss tell him bye and hurry off…

The door bell rings and Finnick Answers it. And said “ Peeta how nice for you to join us” … It’s everything for me not to roll my eyes… Peeta brought flowers, Cheese buns and a stuffed animal for Olivia… I say “ Oh who are the flowers for” with That smirk of his he says “ I got them for Finnick” He heard what happened earlier… “And the cheese buns are for the both of you”… and out of no where he pulls out a ring pop gets down on one knee “ And my dearest Katniss this is for you…” I laugh and Finnick does too… I say “ Oh how unromantic”… I hear the oven beep and say “ Excuse me”.. Leaving Finnick and Peeta in the living room… I hear Peeta say “ Sorry about today I was just joking around”… Finnick say’s “ Stop, I jumped into it to fast. I know she’s not that type of girl to jump ship like that, But we made up now… I also know your not that kind of guy either”.. “ Yeah” Peetas says… “ We just started to be friends again I wanted a friends option on the ring I might of went to far going down on one knee” Peeta says… Finnick Says “ Yeah maybe, But hey your gonna be engaged soon congrats on that”… Peeta smiles and says “ Yeah she’s great…” He was going to say more but I enter the room and say “ Well dinners ready lets eat”… We go to the dinning room and eat a wonderful meal of cheese buns and sea food… we make small talk…

I walk Peeta out later that evening… He says not looking at me in the eye “ Katniss you know how we are being honest with each other now”… I give him a question look and say “Yes”… He is looking down at his feet avoid something… so I add “ We did.. Everything alright?”… He looks up and says “ I am going to be a father”…

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douchebagbrainwaves · 4 years ago

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WHAT MADE IN YOUR MIND

This will come as a surprise to a lot of overlap between the two—mean comments are disproportionately likely also to be dumb—but the strategies for dealing with them are different. I use the number of times each token ignoring case, currently occurs in each corpus. David advocated. I've just described is an acquisition by a public company. I went to my mother afterward to ask if this was so. The fashion for the name Gary began when the actor Frank Cooper adopted the name of a tough mill town in Indiana. I think if I look closer I'll be able to find statistical differences between these and my real mail. Possibly. Peter Mayle wrote one called Why Are We Getting a Divorce? Even others that seem quite distant. And what, exactly, is hate speech? Being profitable ensures you'll get at least the average of the acquisition market—in which public companies do behave as pooled-risk company managers, you need a brain that can go anywhere.

Another thing I may try in the future there is a static obstacle worth getting past, spammers are pretty efficient at getting past it. It was astonishing to learn later that they'd both been serial womanizers, and that as I made the filters stricter I got more false positives. And after having spent their whole lives doing things that are arbitrary, and believe things that are true, or at least wished that computer science was a branch of math. That would have saved me in all three cases. That's why movies like The Matrix have such resonance. I've found that you can filter present-day spam acceptably well using nothing more than a Bayesian combination of the useful and the bizarre. They were imitating the great painters of the Renaissance, whose paintings by that time were brown with dirt.

But what happened to Reddit didn't happen out of neglect. To be jaded you have to do a lot of them, which gave us the impression the short story was flourishing. The user doesn't know what it means, but worse still, neither does the developer of the filter is in the individual databases, then merely tuning spams to get through them. Letters, digits, dashes, apostrophes, and dollar signs to be part of tokens, and the site rules discourage dramatic link titles. Here parents' desires conflict. They may be trying to make sales would be a good idea. Halfway through grad school I decided I wanted to stop getting spam. When we launched in February 2007, weekday traffic was around 1600 daily uniques. It would be pretty straightforward to make a list of the fifteen individual probabilities, you calculate the combined probability thus: let prod apply #' mapcar #' lambda x-1 x probs One question that arises in practice is what probability to assign to words that occur in one corpus or the other, and the transformation was miraculous.

A probability can of course be mistaken, but there is little ambiguity about what it means to be biased. Hacker News who actually took the trouble to write two versions, a flame for Reddit and a more subdued version for HN. I want to find general recipes for discovering what you can't say, look at the page. Second, I think. Plus Reddit had different goals from Hacker News. Adults have a certain model of how kids are supposed to behave, and it's different from what they expect of other adults. If a self-consciously cool people who want to distinguish themselves from the common herd. 08221981 supported 0.

Let's start with a test: Do you have any opinions that you would have gotten in trouble for a particular idea yet? And pay especially close attention whenever an idea is being suppressed. To launch a taboo, a group has to be powerful enough to enforce a taboo. Just write whatever you want, not to say what you want, and then sit around offering crits of one another's creations under the vague supervision of the teacher. It's hard for us to feel a sense of urgency as adults over something we've literally been trained not to worry about running out of money and b they can spend their time how they want. Here parents' desires conflict. This may well be a better plan than the old one of putting them in their place, but it ended up being cast as a struggle to preserve the souls of Englishmen from the corrupting influence of Rome. Representational art is only now recovering from the approval of both Hitler and Stalin. That's an extreme example, of course, the test you use to measure performance must be a valid one. Sorry about that. 99% of people reading Ulysses are thinking I'm reading Ulysses as they do in the real world: they're small; you get to start from scratch; and the problem is before you can solve it.

It seems to be a single long stream of text for purposes of counting occurrences, I use the 15 most significant. We did. If someone submits a lame article, the other end seems especially far away. 8747 From free 0. To see fashion in your own time, though, my filters do themselves embody a kind of virtual town square. Hacker News is definitely useful. If we could look into the future it would be easier if the forces behind it were as clearly differentiated as a bunch of evil machines, and one sent to me in the belief that I was someone else.

Which means applicants of type x. You meet a lot of work, and the history of science, architecture, and the result is what we can't say, what do you do with it? If you said them all you'd have no time left for your real work. Most people go through life with bits of packing material adhering to their minds and never know it. 30 startups that eminent angels have recently invested in, give them each a million dollars each to move, a lot of kids who grew up in. 07972858 color 0. 75%.

Yes, of course. How can we find these too? If we can understand this mechanism, we may be able to solve the problem with fairly simple algorithms. I scan the entire text, including headers and embedded html and javascript, of each message in each corpus. Representational art is only now recovering from the approval of both Hitler and Stalin. That's why movies like The Matrix have such resonance. The reasons parents don't want their kids having sex are complex. This is too big a problem to solve here, but certainly one reason life sucks at 15 is that kids are trapped in a world designed for 10 year olds. There is a strong correlation between comment quality and length; if you say anything mistaken, fix it immediately; ask friends which sentence you'll regret most; go back and tone down harsh remarks; publish stuff online, because an audience makes you write more, and thus generate more ideas; print out drafts instead of just looking at them on the screen; use simple, germanic words; learn to recognize and discount the effects of moral fashions. One of the most premeditated lies parents tell. Here parents' desires conflict.

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ashortdropandasuddenstop · 1 year ago

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As soon as Kara admitted the truth about Clark’s drunken ramblings, she sorta regretted voicing them aloud. She watched as the vampire before her paled before his cheeks turned a hint of pink - no doubt hers doing the same. “Let’s just say I don’t think I wanna give him a shot of Kalanorian liquor again, anytime soon.”

She tried to hide her second-hand embarrassment by taking a few sips of her coffee, but James’s accidental wording caused her to nearly spit-take. At the very minimum she returned her cup to the table and gave a snorty laugh. “Wow. Wow.” She briefly covered her mouth with a hand before pulling it away a few moments later. “I now see what Clark sees in you. You give the visual appearance of a gentleman - and you want to be viewed as an upstanding gentleman - but deep down you’re just like us. You’re an actual adorable goof.” Kara’s smile grew bigger. “I like that about you. You’ll fit right in with the family.”

“So, ah.. Kara.. tell me more about your adventures with different planets and cuisines,” James asked, no doubt in an effort to steer the conversation into a more, uh, PG territory.

“Uh, well.. My dad, Zor-El, showed me many planets since I was a young girl. Some were weird, and some were scary. A lot were beautiful, and so unlike Earth. It’s hard to equate the tastes of their cuisines into human terms, but most of alien food is rather.. Acidic and spicy. As I said, the taste of pure sweetness is a rarity amongst the stars. You should be thankful you were lucky enough to have been born on a planet with sugarcane—“ Kara adjusted her glasses before receiving the to-go box from the returning waitress, thanking the woman with her brightest smile.

Within the same moment James excused himself to check his phone, and a thought long lost seemed to have returned to him. By now the waitress had took the bill and cash James left and walked away, leaving the two at their patio table.

Kara nodded, quickly getting onto her feet. “I’m done eating. I’d love to see your place! Ooh, what’s Clark having for dinner?” The Kryptonian lowered her voice then. “Is it a far walk or do you need an Up, Up, and Away?”

Norrington had listened to her commentary on food, though Clark's dinner had suddenly taken prescendece.

"Boulderdash, I'm hardly a .. goof.. " James scoffed, with a bit of a pout. Though he was clearly less intimidating as much as he wanted to be known as a big scary "vampire" . Clark had found that with how clingy and needy he tended to be more often than not, now that they were an item. He was much more toned down than the man he met initially. While that was usually a good thing because it meant James wouldn't hurt anyone, perhaps there was a little bit of a spark missing in the man since he'd been domesticated. Not nearly as ferocious.

"Clark's having a good old-fashioned hearty meal tonight. I'm throwing together some rare steaks, sides of veggies, and maybe a bit of pasta. Simple yet satisfying, wouldn't you agree? "

Norrington quirked a brow at her question , and gave one of his playful small smiles. " While it isn't all that far, I still wouldn't mind an evening flight back home, as a trip in a cramped elevator with others up to the top floor does tend to lead me in a bit of a temptation. " One that he didn't need.

" It's just there. If we head west from here – you'll see a cluster of skyscrapers. Keep soaring until you reach the tallest one, the gleaming glass tower that practically touches the stars. Once you're at the top, look for the penthouse with the large balcony and hammock. That's our haven. Land on the rooftop, and you'll find the entrance. It's pretty secure, but I'm sure a superhero like yourself won't have any trouble."

James spoke low so no one else could hear him but her , as he pointed out how to get there, then motioned to the alleyway so she could quick change and carry him. Though because of the height difference, it would probably be the last time he asked her.

Blood Relatives.

If she wasn’t keeping track of it herself, nearly every television screen within CatCo Worldwide Media offices blasted a reminder of the significance of this week:

FUNDRAISER TO BE HELD THURSDAY, CELEBRATION PLANNED FOR SUPERGIRL’S FIRST YEAR ANNIVERSARY, a CatCo spokesperson announced.

Kara read the scrolling headline once, twice, three times.

Just about a week prior she was called into Miss Grant’s office, and was nonchalantly told the publication wanted to celebrate her.. Or, rather, Supergirl, and her many and continuing contributions to the safety and wellbeing of National City - and the world as a whole. Kara Danvers wanted to scream, jump up and down in shock, but all she could do was hold her breath as Cat gave her her task: find a venue big enough for a celebration of the sort. Staying within National City was preferred, but given the fact that power and structural damage wasn’t yet completed on the NC Arena after a recent quarrel between Supergirl and the one who calls herself Livewire.. Kara had to look elsewhere for options.

One stressed phone call to her cousin lead to the conception of an idea within the Man of Steel’s head.. followed by a midnight phone call to his ex (but friendly) girlfriend and coworker Lois Lane. Never was she happy to be awoken during the middle of her deepest sleep, but she answered, and listened to Clark’s request:

“Lo, I’m sorry to wake you so late but I got a favor to ask. . . I need you to announce an exclusive, on-air interview with Superman tomorrow. It’s for Kara.”

Twelve hours later, Lois had the Man of Steel live in studio. Ocean blue orbs stared into the lens, and with a friendly smile Superman spoke to his city - and the nation:

“As some of you may know, this coming week will be an important milestone for my cousin: one year ago next week she took upon the mantle of Supergirl.”

“Are you proud of your cousin, Superman?” Lois - the interviewer - interjected.

Clark Superman knew Lois’s play, and with a nod of thank you, his smile size increased. “Immensely proud, Miss Lane. Putting on our suits and doing what we do is not an easy task; I know you remember just as well as I that I made plenty of mistakes in my first year as this.”

“Years. Plural. I seem to remember a few incidents across a few years.” Lois teased, leading to Superman shaking his head.

“… Not exactly the route I meant to go down to achieve my point, but my point exactly. Being us and doing what we do is not easy, and I have watched my cousin grow and evolve during these months - a year now. She has done stuff not even I have accomplished. If she is listening in right now, I know it would mean more to her to know I feel more jealously of her strengths and accomplishments, than I do of just being proud.”

“Was there anything you wanted to ask of Metropolis, Superman?” Lois guided the interview along.

“Yes. Supergirl and I have come to learn that the cities we are based out of have a tendency to claim us as their own. When it’s meant in jest, we find it flattering. What we don’t like is when people either online or in the media pit us together in a “who’s superior” contest. I want both Metropolis and National City - and frankly, the entire nation - to understand that we are just two people within the same family, with the same goals of striving for a better tomorrow. Metropolis, we should be more welcoming of the Girl of Steel. Which leads me to happily announce that, as of this morning, I have partnered with two wonderful organizations from our mutual cities who are excited to be apart of the upcoming celebration for my cousin. I would like to thank the National City Children’s Cancer Foundation and the Metropolis Children’s Cancer Society for their involvement, and I would like to thank the two anonymous donors who have already donated one million dollars each to the cause. Thank you.”

Needless to say, it took less than two hours for Metropolis’s finest theater and exhibition hall to get into contact with CatCo… and after a more personal and private family dinner the night previous, Kara Danvers had touched down upon Metropolis grounds.. via private airplane.

She was suppose to be heading to either her hotel room or Clark’s apartment, but somehow her feet carried her to the nearby cafe, choosing an outdoor patio seat as she ordered from a given menu:

“Yeah, can I have the maple sticky bun, please? Uh, two please. I’m kinda hungry. And a mocha latte, please.”

@ashortdropandasuddenstop

#v: vampire #NorriKent #Blood Relatives #notabirdnotaplane

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thecloserkin · 4 years ago

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Doom (2005) fic roundup

I have now recommended this action/sci-fi/horror film based on a bestselling video game franchise to not one not two but three friends and I am happy to report they all concur, cinema Peaked in 2005, this is the best movie ever made. I watched it for the first time on @shipcestuous‘s recommendation: She has an extremely thorough breakdown here, and the pitch of her enthusiasm and the penetration of her analysis are without peer. Honestly I can’t think of a single reason not to watch this movie. Watch it for Rosamund Pike. Watch it for Karl Urban. Watch it to marvel at how much Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson’s acting chops have improved in the past 15 years. I have now seen this cinematic masterpiece three (3) times and I have zero (0) regrets. There is a sequel out, Doom: Annihilation (2019) but it’s not worth your time. Recently I went through the John Grimm/Samantha Grimm tag on ao3 and read every single fic, most of them for the second or third time, and I had a fucking blast. Friends, if any of you would like to experience this cinematic masterpiece for yourselves please please PLEASE message me and i’ll send you the link to dl it.

Doom (2005, dir. Andrzej Bartkowiak) is about a squad of Marines dispatched to contain a zombie outbreak in a secure scientific facility on Mars. There is no earthly reason for it to be set on Mars btw so I just chalk this decision up to video game continuity (same with the first-person-shooter sequence in the third act, which is five minutes long and it was the longest five minutes of my life). What’s impressive about this film is it somehow manages not to glorify (1) the military or (2) the scientific establishment. It’s a film stuffed to the gills with dudebros (outside of Rosamund Pike they’re all dudebros) yet to my eternal delight the humor actually landed, and I think the anarchist bent of the narrative is a big part of why (anarchist as in hella skeptical of authority). I don’t think it’s giving too much away to say this is another “we tried to cure cancer, accidentally unleashed the zombie apocalypse” setup. What’s surprising is that the protagonists are failed by science, as an institution. Our protagonists are one of the Marines (Karl Urban) and his estranged twin sister (Rosamund Pike), who is an archaeologist at the quarantined facility. The chemistry between these two is instantly and unmistakably through the fucking roof. The first time they appear in the same frame the other Marines mistake her for his ex, and it just gets better from there. Every time I watch it, the final frame of this film has me flailing and screeching. I still can’t believe we got a mainstream movie that was this good to us—horror movies in general have a track record of being good to us ‘cest shippers, but this is on another level.

cold hearts, thawing by merely (3k) They’re on the run and they get FAKE MARRIED!!! My god the amount of characterization smuggled into this—Jon and Sam getting hot for each other’s respective areas of competence is my entire kink. It’s not predominantly humorous in tone but the humor slaps in the best way. This is my forever favorite because it was written by one of the friends I got into the movie, so tailor-made for meeee ❤

Before, During, After by anr (1k) If you plotted the arc of their lives it would be a circle. Something about the spareness of the prose & the amount of stuff occurring in the interstices really stayed with me. I realized later it’s because I’d read another of the author’s fics from a diff fandom—it’s in the same mode, love to see it when authors just nail that one register.

DOOMED by chase_acow (1k) ”I thought you said your microbiology was rusty!" "You know I like it when you give me the bottom line.” Lmaooo. In case you haven’t noticed this fandom consists almost entirely of post-canon getting (back) together fic.

Normal by mneiai (<1k) Shut the front door did somebody say pre-canon getting-together fic??! Of course we all know 90% of the reason John enlisted was to flee his feelings for Sam right.

Glimpses of Clarity by izzyb (1.5k) John and Sam have rough sex and it’s completely consensual, but still scary. Part of working through trauma is recognizing that removing oneself from the traumatic situation does not, in itself, dispel the trauma. John has this inability to relinquish control, or abate his vigilance—except, apparently, when he’s fucking Sam hahaha.

Written in the Scars (of our hearts) by Mercury32 (21k, unfinished) I don’t read a lot of soulmark AUs so idk if this is common but it turns out John and Sam are not soulmates??? He gets his tattoo covered up because he’s only ever wanted Sam. They’re on the run because there’s a nationwide manhunt on and they take refuge in their grandpa’s cabin in the woods and along the way they meet Jon’s actual soulmate but he chooses Sam. He will always choose Sam until the day they put him in the ground. The conversation where they explained to their ex-CIA grandfather how they were going undercover as newlyweds is unadulterated gold.

No Heroics by amathela (3k) They go back to their jobs. They try to keep John’s newfound abilities under wraps so as not to turn him into a target or a military guinea pig. The stakes are high but it’s so …. whimsical? And domestic? It’s so good ahhhhh I love it when they’re trying to hide something other than the incest. “He never was able to win an argument against her.” “She rolls her eyes. ‘Not all of us are as pretty as you.’”

He a Tiger Will Be Who Drinks of Me by Brenda (3k) This story is packing some serious mythological and folkloric resonances. I was going to label it post-canon but half of it is pre-canon. When you frame their relationship as Ares and Aphrodite, Selene and Endymion, it does seem inevitable doesn’t it? All roads lead to you.

Need You Tonight by Mercury32 (2.5k) Hot damn it’s a pwp that’s kicked off by Sam having nightmares, and is all about how Sam trusts John implicitly. I still think about the way Rosamund Pike delivers that line in the movie, I know you, like, on a weekly basis. “You've ruined me for other men and I'll probably be walking uncomfortably tomorrow, but no, you didn't hurt me.”

And I Know What You’re Thinking by amathela (1k) Sam loses a lot of blood and John donates his. Course, now that John is a genetically modified superhuman this creates a psychic bond between them. Nobody does dialogue like amathela does, it’s like you can hear the words behind the words the characters are saying.

Homecoming by amathela (1k) Not as playful as her work usually is but still lovely and understated.

Ephelides by Rahmi (1k) Sam gives John anatomy lessons and it’s sexy as haaaaale. "Just because I'm about to give you a handjob doesn't mean I'm not still your sister.” "Your intelligence reflects on me. And you're my brother. Therefore, you're intelligent."

The Edge of DOOM by chase_acow (1.7k) I don’t know what’s going on but the apocalypse is here and Sam and John are shooting things.

If You Don’t Know Me by Now by Mercury32 (4k) Sam and John rifle through his unsent letters and it isn’t 100% full-blown epistolary but we still get a firm idea of what they were up to for those ten years apart. Ok but CONSIDER: what if they sent each other birthday postcards. Imagine!! This line in particular cracked me up: “Congratulations, you finally got your wish of being an only child.”

desert ghosts by river_soul (1k) They’re not “almost home” because they’re together therefore already home asdfkdjfkdjfd. Gorgeously wrought.

You Hit Me Once (kiss with a fist) by aohatsu (3k) I could read pre-canon John/Sam fics at a rate of 100k a day probs. God these kids are so lonely and nobody else understands. John getting into schoolyard brawls to defend Sam’s honor? Habitual bedsharing???!

I Wanna Kiss You (but i want it too much) by Mercury32 (<1k) It’s not a missing moment from canon, exactly—it’s a replay of the scene where the squad meets Sam, only the camera is firmly situated inside John’s head this time. “His fingers are twitching with the need to hold her, to see if the curve of her hip still fits into the palm of his hand, if her forehead still tucks perfectly into his neck. Like a jigsaw puzzle, she'd observed once, made to fit together.”

No Relation by aj2245 (<400 words) I mean the “surprise! they’re not related” reveal came outta nowhere but it was worth it just for this line: “Life on Mars is fragile. The three coffins waiting in the Ark anti-chamber speak to that. One little mistake and she's lost everything. She's lost John, it's just on time delay.”

In the Blood and the Bone by kyrene (10k) Pwp where John and Sam try to get pregnant. It wasn’t my thing but it’s the top-bookmarked fic in the tag, so other people must’ve liked it, and I always try to assume other people are acting rationally so there must be something this fic does well that I’m missing because I don’t care about that facet that much.

**This is not an exhaustive list of John/Sam fics, just a list of the ones I had anything coherent to say about. I do not think there is a single bad fic in the tag and they’re all bite-sized and bingeable!

#fyi this is a 24/7 rosamund pike + karl urban thirst blog #just in case that was unclear #doom 2005 #john x samantha #fic roundup #fic rec

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iffeelscouldkill · 5 years ago

Text

Any day breathing

“Captain Tripathi. You’re alive!”

He presents it as a joke, to mask the very real fear that lies underneath those words. The fear that someday, she won’t come back to him safe and whole.

–

A/N: I wrote another thing :3

To the folks in the Starship Iris Discord: I finished it! This started out as a little ficlet idea that I had a while back: a Sana/Campbell concept based on Campbell’s stock greeting of “Captain Tripathi. You’re alive!” I wrote half of it down (I got sidetracked partway through) and then let it sit in my Starship Iris ideas notes file (god, you do not want to see the length of that thing) for ages.

Then, a conversation in the TSCOSI Discord about Campbell, pining, and Campbell’s probable reaction to the Rumor reports being uploaded to the public net (which I had totally forgotten about asfdfgsgsdgsg) inspired me to pick it back up.

It was meant to be a short, whimsical, feels-filled ficlet about Sana and Campbell’s conversations through the years. It turned into something… much longer than that.

Enjoyyyyy~

–

“Captain Tripathi. You’re alive.”

The first time he says it, the surprise is genuine. It’s hard not to be surprised to hear from this woman again – someone whose name had been only a rumour to him until very recently. He’d heard about her from contacts of contacts, mentioned here and there, always with a reverent tone. She had some kind of revolutionary past, he’d heard: was jailed as a dissenter, or had taken part in an uprising. One version of that story said that she’d led an entire planet in an uprising. He also heard that she’d hijacked a high-level Regime starship – possibly in mid-flight.

Whatever he was expecting when they finally met face-to-face, the slender, wiry woman in the brightly-coloured shalwar kameez with a streak of engine grease near her hairline and elaborate floral tattoos adorning muscular arms is not it. Sana Tripathi walks straight into his base of operations – a network of winding corridors and tucked-away cubbyholes in what’s meant to be a confidential location – flanked by a younger woman with a murderous expression and more visible weapons than he can take in with one glance, and demands two full sets of new identification, impeccable and untraceable, to get the IGR off their tail.

“I heard you were the best,” she tells him, a challenge.

Campbell holds out for a full fifteen minutes, but by the end of it he’s agreed to everything she asks for and feels distinctly like he’s gone ten rounds in the sparring ring they used to blow off steam back in the military, verbally speaking. She agrees to pay half up-front, with the promise of the rest once they safely reach their destination.

It’s an hour-long job, and he doesn’t know where the two of them go to lie low while he’s working, but exactly an hour later the glowering, heavily-armed woman is back to pick up their documentation. He’s a little disappointed that it’s not the Captain who came to collect.

The other woman – who tells him shortly that her name is Patel; the name on the papers he’s made for her is Kay Grisham – pays and leaves. He later hears that the IGR is conducting randomised searches at every checkpoint, detaining anyone whose background doesn’t quite check out neatly enough, or whose personal or ship ID papers look a little too new.

Campbell is completely confident in the quality of his work, but he’s not sure that Tripathi could pass a visual check, if she’s been on an IGR watchlist – and that friend of hers didn’t really seem like the subtle type. After thirty-six hours with no word, he figures the rest of the money is lost, but chalks it up as an interesting story to tell.

Two hours later, he gets a call from an unknown number. After running the standard traces on it (the IGR aren’t as good at disguising themselves as they like to think), he accepts the call.

“Is this Ignatius Campbell?” asks the voice on the other end – brisk, but with the hint of warmth and humour lurking underneath.

“Captain Tripathi,” he says in surprise. “You’re alive.”

“Of course,” the Captain replies blithely. “We delayed our departure slightly in order to catch the shift changeover for the randomised checks. The outgoing agents are always tired and less likely to bother with a full database check, and the incoming agents have never been briefed properly. Then we had to make sure that we weren’t being tailed.”

“Of course,” Campbell echoes. This woman is no amateur, and he realises that he’d managed to underestimate her even after everything that she’d managed by tracking him down, coming to him and persuading him to work with her. He makes a mental note not to do that again.

“So, I assume this call is about payment,” he adds, when Captain Tripathi doesn’t volunteer anything further.

“How very astute of you,” the Captain replies, too good-humoured to be mocking, and then proceeds to brazenly haggle him down a further twenty-five percent.

Campbell doesn’t believe in love at first sight, and he never will. But he does believe that there are people whom, when you meet them, the universe demands you sit up and pay attention to.

–

“Captain Tripathi – you’re alive.”

Even after resolving not to underestimate Sana Tripathi, Campbell is still surprised when he hears from her again. It’s been eight months, and during that time, his best-placed informants hadn’t picked up a single trace of Captain Tripathi or her companion. Not under the names he’d created for them, and not under the names they’d given him when they met.

It’s unheard of for him to be unable to track an alias he’s created (he wouldn’t be able to stay ahead of any potential threats unless he had that advantage), but he knows that the Regime has ways of making people vanish completely. It’s a cold, unpleasant realisation, and he experiences an unusually strong pang of regret considering that he barely knows this woman. But he’s sure that somehow, they must have slipped up and got caught.

So when Captain Tripathi contacts him again like nothing has happened, he realises he might just have to get used to unexpected developments.

He’s somehow not even surprised to hear that since they last spoke, she’s picked up a Dwarnian and some kind of renegade translator who has a history with the mafia. “He’s an academic, so he won’t be seeing any action, but he needs to have papers that will hold up if the ship is inspected while we’re docked,” the Captain explains casually.

“…Naturally,” says Campbell. “And speaking of your ship – I suppose you have a full work-up of papers for that, too? You know they’ve tightened the regs on those a lot recently.”

He tells himself he’s only saying it so that he can squeeze an extra job out of a contact he’s fairly confident will be good for the money. Not because he’s concerned.

“Are you suggesting that my ship’s paperwork is less than completely impeccable?” Captain Tripathi asks him with mock indignation.

Campbell suppresses a smile as he replies, “Given that it was made by someone other than myself, I’m surprised it’s held up this long.”

Their conversation concludes with him agreeing to redo the ship’s paperwork – somehow at a much lower price than he would usually charge for a second-time client.

–

“Captain Tripathi. You’re alive!”

It’s already become a joke between them by this point, the fact that Campbell answers Sana’s calls this way, and he waits in anticipation of the sarcastic response that he knows will follow. They’ve been in relatively regular contact since Campbell started playing middleman for some of their cargo, using his network of contacts to move it on and taking a cut. He’s stopped bothering to deny to himself how much he looks forward to their conversations.

But this time, the voice that comes down the line is not Sana Tripathi’s, but Arkady Patel’s. “It’s First Mate Patel, actually,” she says brusquely, and Campbell sits up slowly. “I know you guys traditionally open with like, twenty minutes of banter, but we don’t have time for that right now. We’re in a bind.”

Campbell has a cast-iron policy of not offering any favours, offering help to contacts, or otherwise sticking his neck out any further than he needs to. He keeps his relationships strictly about business and nothing more. Much like his ability to track an alias, it’s what’s kept him off the IGR’s radar for so long.

There are one or two folks whom he goes way back with – like Theodore “Red” Gregor, who was in his unit and a fellow dishonourable discharge. Campbell helped him set up his business on Elion. There aren’t many who could manage to stay in business while avoiding both the mob and the Regime, but if anyone could, it was Red.

But they’re rare exceptions to a very strict rule. Anyone else is on their own, or had better be prepared to owe him for a long, long time.

Campbell thinks about all this before he says, “What do you need?”

–

Campbell is ashamed of how long it takes him to realise that Sana is a fellow Telemachian. He’s usually good at identifying fellow homeworlders, even ones who have lived elsewhere. Telemachians have this spark, this spirit, a distinctive culture that even the Regime couldn’t stamp out of them.

They’re diverse, sure, and numerous, but you can always spot a fellow Telemachian if you know what to look for. They’re the unruly planet on the edge of a solar system, a little too far away from any established IGR base to monitor closely; a little too big to be brought to heel. There’s a reason that most protest songs originate from Telemachus – and that there’s been periodic unrest every few years since the coup.

They’re making small talk at the end of a call (something Campbell indulges in far more than he should), and Campbell is talking about evading the IGR’s latest clampdown and how hard it’s becoming to operate underground. “It’s enough to make me want to give it all up and become a vegetable farmer somewhere.”

“Wouldn’t you get bored?” Sana asks, playfully but with a hint of curiosity lurking underneath.

“Yeah. Probably.” Campbell’s not sure. Maybe if he had the company of the right person, it wouldn’t be so bad. “Just, all this running in place… it feels so futile.” It comes out sounding more tired than he means it to.

“Well, you know what they say,” says Sana, seriously. “When their foot is on your throat-”

“-any day breathing is a victory,” Campbell finishes. “I didn’t know you were a homeworlder.”

There’s a pause, and he thinks that Sana is weighing up what to say next. She hadn’t meant to give so much away, he realises – for all that he’s got to know a fair bit about the smuggling business that she runs, and the odd detail about life on board the Rumor, Sana is very cautious about revealing anything about her own past, or that of her crew, beyond what is strictly required to do business. Campbell has never minded that – he can respect a person’s boundaries. He doesn’t need to pry into Sana’s past to be sure that she won’t screw him over.

“I’ve moved around a bit,” she says, finally. “I spent a few years off-planet in the late 70s. Since then I’ve been… transient. Well, you knew that.”

Campbell inclines his head, though he knows that Sana can’t see it. He’s still considering what to say when she carries on,

“I don’t go back to the homeworld much these days. Actually, when we first approached you to work with us-” Campbell gives a wry smile at how much of an understatement that is, “-it was the first time that I’d been back to Telemachus in years.”

“It’s still home, though, isn’t it?” he says, thinking of the time that he’d spent in deployment; the years that he was on the run, unable to get word to his sister or his nephews. “After everything.”

“Yeah, it is.”

–

Campbell doesn’t really think twice the first time he invites the crew of the Rumor to have dinner with him.

It’s late in the evening, and the crew has just touched down on Telemachus a full twelve hours later than they’d originally planned. First there’d been some unprecedented solar flare activity en route, forcing them to take a detour, and then they’d been boarded by Regime agents in a “random” check on entry to Telemachus. Krejjh had been quickly hidden away in one of the ship’s many nooks and crannies, and the paperwork had all checked out (of course), but the agents had been both suspicious and thorough. All in all, the crew is obviously exhausted and a little fractious by the time Campbell meets them to pick up the cargo. Sana is doing her best to keep things businesslike, but she wilts visibly and rubs her hand over her eyes when she thinks he isn’t looking.

“Hey. Listen, we can go over all this tomorrow,” Campbell says, as gently as he can. “You guys’ve had a rough journey – what d’you say we grab a bite to eat instead?”

Arkady’s frown deepens, of course – it’s her job to be suspicious, and Campbell doesn’t take it personally. More to the point, he knows that it’s just her way of trying to look out for the crew. Arkady Patel is a lot more caring than she tries to let on. She might show it with jibes in the background of calls, or with threats and occasional bodily harm in the direction of anyone who threatens her friends’ safety, but she shows it.

For her part, Sana looks extremely relieved at the idea of being able to put business off until the morning.

“That’s really kind of you, Campbell,” she says. “It’d be great to take a bit of a breather, but we don’t want to impose…”

“It’s no imposition,” says Campbell, shrugging. “I was planning to go out to eat tonight anyway – I’ve been cooped up indoors too much lately. There’s a great hole-in-the-wall two blocks away from here – it doesn’t look like much, but the food is something else. Krejjh can come, too – they get all kinds in there.”

Sana tells him they’ll consult Brian and Krejjh before coming to a decision, but Campbell has a feeling that the answer will be yes, despite Arkady’s clear misgivings. Sure enough, Sana is back minutes later with a mild-mannered translator and an excitable Dwarnian (disguised with a large pair of novelty sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat) in tow.

Over the months – almost a year, now – that Campbell has been doing business with the Rumor crew, he has a sense of how they work together as a group: Krejjh piloting the ship and executing daring last-minute escapes; Brian joking and mediating and cooking slightly disastrous food; Arkady watching Sana’s back and intimidating obstacles into submission; and Sana alternately leading and mothering, driving ruthless bargains for the benefit of her crew.

But it doesn’t compare to the experience of eating at the same table, drinking the Rumor’s lethal home-brewed moonshine, listening to outrageous tales and laughing until his sides hurt.

The next day, Campbell is unsurprised when he doesn’t hear a word from the Rumor crew until nearly two o’clock in the afternoon. He himself only crawled out of bed at noon, and has since been avoiding light sources and slowly regaining his humanity over strong black coffee.

“Incoming call from Sana Tripathi.”

“Captain Tripathi,” Campbell says as he answers his comm. “You’re alive?”

“The jury’s definitely still out on that one,” Sana replies, her voice low and rough. Campbell chuckles, and then hopes the sound wasn’t too loud. “We’re at various stages of recuperation, but at a minimum, Arkady and I will be able to meet you with the cargo at our rendezvous point by three.”

“Make it four,” Campbell says, in deference to how utterly wrung-out she sounds. To cover this up, he adds, “I only joined the land of the living about half an hour ago myself. I’m going to need at least three more cups of coffee before I’m functional.”

“Four it is,” says Sana, businesslike, but with a clear undertone of relief. “We’ll see you there.”

“See you both soon. And, Sana –”

Campbell stops, wondering if he’s overstepping. Last night had been so easy, so fun – by the end of it, the Rumor crew felt like old friends. But it’s harder to recapture that feeling in the light of day, sober. What can he say – ‘Thanks for a great night’? ‘We should do this again sometime’?

(‘You have a beautiful laugh’?)

He clears his throat. “Don’t let Brian forget about that drink he owes me. And uh, you and the rest of the crew are always welcome to make a stop. To refuel, or…” He clears his throat again. “Or for whatever reason.”

“Thanks, Campbell,” says Sana, warm and genuine. “We’ll see you soon.”

–

Things start to get a lot tougher over the months that follow – on Telemachus and on every other planet that Campbell has contacts. Forgers and traders he’s worked with for years go silent, or are rarely heard from; he gets wind of abrupt crackdowns, the Regime imprisoning people who show the slightest bit of dissent, petty criminals being sent down with lengthy sentences.

Telemachus starts to stir. He hears murmurs on the streets. A leaflet is shoved into his hand by a hooded young person who is gone before he can blink. Campbell skims enough of it to know that he would probably be arrested if he were found with it on his person. He burns it, but he knows it’s only a matter of time before the protests start.

On his next call with the Captain to arrange a routine cargo drop-off, he can’t stop himself from urging her to be careful. Sounding amused, she promises him that she will.

“Are we still on for drinks at that bar you promised to take us to?”

“I don’t know what their house policy is on home-brewed moonshine,” Campbell warns her. “But of course we are.”

“Great. We’ll see you in a week, Campbell. Sana Tripathi out.”

He’s not expecting to get another call from her just three days later. Campbell is tense as he accepts the call, sure that something must be wrong.

“Captain Tripathi.” He hesitates over the second half of the greeting, and Sana speaks before he can say anything else.

“Campbell, hi.” She sounds well, but Campbell doesn’t relax, sensing bad news in her tone. “Listen, there’s no good way to say this, but… we’re going to have to miss our drop-off.”

“Oh.” Of all the things that Campbell might have thought were coming next, that wasn’t one of them. He knows he should be angry over being left in the lurch by a business partner, about how badly this will put him out, but instead he’s just… disappointed. And concerned. “What’s happening?”

“It’s – hard to go into too much detail right now, but… we’ve got to make an unexpected stop. Something’s come up, and… there’s no way we’re going to be in range of Telemachus for a while. I’m sorry.”

So, not just missing a drop-off, but possibly not making any stops for some time. Campbell is silent for a few moments, absorbing this.

“I know this will put you out in a major way, and I promise that we’ll make it up to you,” Sana says. “You’re our best customer, and we would never bail on you unless it was urgent.”

That’s what concerns me, Campbell thinks. “I… understand,” he says finally. “I’m not going to pretend I like it, but sometimes, that’s just how things are. I can find another supplier for the Scotch. They won’t be you, but…”

“Sorry, again, Campbell. We were… really looking forward to seeing you. Listen, we’ll give you half price on your next shipment. As an apology.”

Somehow, bartering isn’t as fun when Sana is just offering him a lower price – and when she’s doing it as an apology. “We’ll work something out,” he says. “I know you’ve got to keep Krejjh in hot sauce and Arkady in those elaborate hair products she denies using.”

Sana laughs. “Yeah, we might have to ration the hot sauce for a bit, but we’ll survive.” There’s a pause, and then she adds, “I’ll call as soon as I’m able. Let you know when we might be in the area again.”

“Do that. Good luck with… whatever it is that you have to do.”

“Thanks.” For a moment, Sana seems like she’s about to say something else, but then she closes with, “Speak to you soon. Sana Tripathi out.”

–

Campbell doesn’t hear from the Rumor crew for another three weeks after Sana’s call. All told, it’s been nearly four months since they last stopped by on Telemachus. Once upon a time, he would go much longer without seeing or hearing from the crew and not even think about it. But he’s got used to more regular contact – drop-offs every couple of months, and regular calls, sometimes not even about business. He enjoys finding out what the group has been up to, listening to the way that they joke together, the way Sana alternately cajoles and corrals them. How fond she sounds when talking to her crew, her found family.

He’s sure, sometimes, that he hears the same fondness in her voice directed at him. She’s never hesitated to match his banter, and he looks forward to the calls where they haggle over prices, exchanging insults that sound more affectionate than anything. Campbell would hate to cross a line too soon – he doesn’t want to ruin what is also a great business relationship and friendship. But on his calls with Sana, his catch-ups with the crew, their now-regular drinking escapades with ill-advised amounts of moonshine and ridiculous stories… he’s sure that there’s something more there.

He finds himself thinking about Sana at odd moments during the day: dwelling on her voice, her laugh; picturing her smile, her arms, her tattoos. He hopes that she’s safe, that whatever mystery errand took her away from Telemachus wasn’t dangerous. More than once, he’s tempted to put a call through and make sure she’s okay, but he stops himself. Sana said she would call as soon as she was able, and she’s always been a woman of her word.

He brightens when, in the middle of a slow evening, his terminal lights up and his computer intones, “Incoming call from… Sana Tripathi. Incoming call from…”

“Captain Tripathi,” he greets her cheerfully. “You’re alive!”

–

Then, Elion. A body turns up by the landfill. Sana’s accusation.

“In what universe would I turn on you for them?!”

Then they don’t speak for some time.

–

There’s a massive protest happening in the centre of Nestor, the district of Telemachus where Campbell is based. It’s loud enough and vehement enough that Campbell can hear it, just faintly, from where he sits in his cramped office, distractedly going through some accounts.

Normally, the Regime would have deployed riot police by now, violently suppressing the protest and arresting the instigators. But in contrast to how jumpy the IGR had been before, the machinery of the Regime has been oddly absent in recent weeks. As if all its resources are being focused elsewhere. This is the third protest in about ten days – and the largest. He also heard that there’s been some kind of major incident at a Regime lab in New Jupiter – a fire or an explosion or something. He’s willing to bet that it’s just the tip of the iceberg. Something big is going down.

Giving the accounts up as a bad job for now, Campbell dismisses the holographic screen with a wave of his hand and stands up. He needs some air.

Once he’s out of the house, it’s almost impossible to avoid the protest – it seems to be everywhere. Out of sheer morbid curiosity, Campbell walks towards the crowds, his coat collar turned up to obscure the bottom half of his face. Soon he’s close enough to hear some of what they’re shouting.

“THE RUMOR CREW DID NOTHING WRONG!” yells a man nearby, and Campbell’s heart almost stops. “JUSTICE FOR THASIA!”

“JUSTICE FOR EMILY CRADDOCK!” another voice yells back.

Someone stuffs a leaflet into Campbell’s hand. He looks down at it. It’s a cheap, quickly-printed thing, just black text on off-white paper, and it reads:

WE THE PEOPLE DEMAND A FULL AND TRANSPARENT STATEMENT FROM THE INTERGALACTIC REPUBLIC ABOUT THE DISCLOSURES IN THE RUMOR RECORDINGS OF THE WIDESPREAD USE OF SPY TECHNOLOGY IN PEACETIME ASSASSINATION, ABDUCTION, AND THE INSTIGATION OF AN INTER-SPECIES WAR THE RUMOR CREW DID NOTHING WRONG!

Campbell roughly grabs the shoulder of the man who was shouting nearby. “What are these Rumor recordings?” he demands, brandishing the leaflet.

The man looks alarmed, and Campbell forces his posture to become a bit less “military”. “I’m not one of them,” he says, quickly. “I just want to know what’s happening.”

“They’re all over the public net, man,” says the protestor. The ‘where the hell have you been?’ is strongly implied.

“You should start by listening to Report 1: Violet Liu,” another protestor supplies helpfully.

“Thank you,” says Campbell, and lets go of the man’s shoulder. The man shrugs and rejoins the crowd, chanting,

“JUSTICE FOR ALVY CONNORS! JUSTICE FOR THE CREW OF THE STARSHIP IRIS! YOU CAN’T MAKE A PERSON DISAPPEAR!”

Back at home, Campbell discovers the man was right: the files are all over the net. The IGR is clearly penalising anyone who shares them, and trying to shut down the websites hosting them – his search turns up a lot of dead links and mysteriously deactivated accounts. But there are far too many sources to eradicate them all, short of completely shutting down the public net. Before too long, Campbell has a complete set of the recordings, Reports 1 to 9.

He starts to listen.

The report starts, after the introduction from someone who is clearly an IGR drone, with the panicked voice of a woman who sounds vaguely familiar. Campbell has a good memory for both faces and voices, and he’s sure this woman is the new recruit he’d heard briefly on the call with Sana before the Rumor landed on Elion. It might explain her link to the Rumor crew.

Sure enough, a few minutes later he hears Arkady, using the Kay Grisham alias that he’d made for her, years ago. He recognises the con she’s pulling, a trick that Brian Jeeter grandly refers to as “the Carmen Gambit”. He wonders what was so important about this woman that the Rumor crew went so far out of their way to rescue her. He looks for a timestamp on the recording, but it only shows when the file was uploaded to the public net, which was a few days ago. But Campbell has a feeling this was the reason that the Rumor crew skipped their drop-off in Telemachus.

He wishes that Sana had told him what they were doing. God knows he wouldn’t have been angry about them going to save a person’s life. He wasn’t really angry about it to begin with.

Campbell keeps listening, and learns the real reason for the Rumor crew’s detour: a cryptic message from a friend he thinks Brian might have mentioned once – Alvy Connors, a gifted coder moonlighting as a bartender. Campbell’s sorry to learn about his death. He realises that the protesters had been chanting Alvy’s name – but why would they care so much about this man’s death? Where did these recordings come from?

Two more reports in, and Campbell is starting to put the pieces together to form a horrible picture: how the Regime had known that the Rumor was headed towards Elion. How the crew’s IDs had become compromised. They were listening to every word, he realises. But how?

Sana and Arkady discuss trading with the Fowleys – a particularly low breed of scum that Campbell avoids dealing with if at all possible, but he knows the Rumor crew can’t afford to be that picky – on Elion, and Campbell realises that he must be about to make an appearance in the recordings.

Sure enough, as the group realises that they need new IDs, Sana makes the call. It’s surreal to hear his own voice coming from the computer, and Campbell realises he needs to be very careful from now on. Whatever event caused all these files to be leaked onto the public net, he’s now clearly implicated in it, too. At least the Regime don’t have a visual description, but they have his voice and his location, as well as some details about his contacts. He’ll need to warn Red Gregor.

The exchange between Arkady and Sana in the elevator on Elion makes him cringe. “Did it seem like he was hitting on you?” Ridiculously, he finds himself hoping that Sana will give some indication of how she might feel about that, but instead she expertly turns the conversation around on Arkady. “If we wanna open that door, can I just say that you and—”

“No, that door is shut and locked.”

Campbell thinks about how Arkady talks to Violet Liu, her upbeat mood in response to the other woman’s admiration, and smiles.

Things go downhill quickly after that. Campbell is tense as he listens to the exchange with the guard, the Carmen Gambit once again coming into play. It almost works – until the fatal announcement over the comms that blows the crew’s cover. Campbell reflects that the Regime’s ridiculous, stifling bureaucracy was probably the only thing that kept them from getting caught sooner.

He cringes again as he hears his own call come through, and Sana immediately decline it. He’d been a bit over-eager, calling as soon as he’d got Red Gregor’s message to say that the job had gone off without a hitch – he was really just looking for an excuse to talk to Sana. Clearly, Campbell needs to get a grip.

The recording ends, and Campbell looks at his holo-screen, thinking about what the next recording will surely contain.

“Computer, outside call. Ignatius Campbell to Sana Tripathi.”

“Attempting connection…” the computer intones. “Attempting connection… Attempting connection… Attempting connection… Connection not available.”

He guesses he can’t blame Sana for declining his calls, after everything that he’d said to her before.

Reluctantly, he plays the next recording.

He listens to Violet’s attempts to speak to Arkady, Brian’s theories about the robot nanoswarm, and then Violet and Arkady’s conversation in the kitchen and Arkady’s gift of her mint plant. Campbell feels slightly indignant about the fact that Arkady never let on she was a fellow gardener. They could have exchanged tips!

Finally, he hears Sana accept his call in her room, and the friendly conversation quickly devolve into a tense exchange. He’s replayed that conversation endless times in his head, but it somehow sounds even worse than he remembers. Campbell wasn’t angry at Sana – he wishes he could have explained that somehow. But with everything that had happened, she was in no position to give him the benefit of the doubt. He wishes he could go back in time and…

He doesn’t know.

Then, something unexpected. Another call comes through to Sana’s comm, and she accepts it without waiting to hear the name – but Campbell knows that wasn’t him.

“Campbell, I agree it’s a bad idea for us to talk right now, but I just wanna say that if it was only me, I would probably risk it. The thing is, I can’t, I have to think about my crew, and you—”

Campbell’s heart stutters in his chest. “Computer, outside call,” he says, not bothering to pause the recording. “Ignatius Campbell to Sana Tripathi.”

“Attempting connection… Attempting connection… Attempting connection… Attempting connection… Connection not available.”

Campbell sighs and runs a hand over his face. He’s finally starting to get the picture, and he’s desperate to talk to Sana, to tell her that he understands now. He thinks about the way she’d spoken to ‘him’, the vulnerability in her voice. Damn it, he needs to talk to her. He has to make this right.

A man is speaking on the recording now, and Sana responds to him with anger. Campbell realises that he still has three reports left to go. He’s still far from understanding what has happened and where these recordings came from. The least that he can do is take the time to listen to them and understand what Sana has been going through.

He’s afraid of what the other reports might contain. But he would have known if Sana was hurt or worse – wouldn’t he? Surely Sana would still have come to him for help if she really needed it?

Nothing could have prepared him for the contents of the last three reports: the stunning revelations about Thasia, about why the war began; about the Regime’s use of a sentient swarm of nanobots to spy on dozens of its own people, indiscriminately, in every waking moment. His fists clench, hard enough that his nails dig into the palms of his hands, as he listens to Major General Frederick’s cold declaration that future strains of the nanoswarm will include a ‘kill-switch’. He listens to the sad story of Thasia and their doomed childhood friend, Emily Craddock. He understands now why the crowd had been chanting their names.

The crew’s hours of drunken singalongs and fake ‘confessions’ make him smile, but the smile is quickly wiped from his face as he hears the passage of time at the end of the report. “Two weeks have passed since our last update. As Major General Frederick said, we expect diminishing returns via this swarm of strain H.”

Then, the last few seconds. “Agent McCabe, look out the window!”

“Holy shit—”

Campbell can’t believe the recordings end there. He goes back to the site where he’d downloaded the files, to make sure he hadn’t missed one – but the website has already been taken offline. He scours discussion boards for any scrap of information. All of the commentators agree that there are only nine reports, but they have theories about what might have happened next – linked to the explosion (it definitely was an explosion) on New Jupiter. Odds are, it was the Rumor’s destination. But what happened?

He thinks about the words of the other Violet Liu. “If Plan B fails, not all of you will live long enough for Plan C.” He thinks about Violet coughing, Krejjh coughing, an inexorably deadly swarm of nanobots in the air. The Rumor crew taking one last, defiant, heroic stand because none of them could stand the alternative: to save their own lives at the expense of so many others.

“We have a saying on Telemachus, that when their foot is on your throat, any day breathing is a victory. So, I vote we push our luck.”

Campbell’s breathing is unsteady, and his throat feels tight and painful. He tries to fight down the rising panic in his chest, the voice in his head that fears the worst. Sana is alive. She has to be. He rubs at one eye with the heel of his hand, and it comes away wet.

“Computer,” he chokes out. “Outside call. Ignatius Campbell – to – Sana Tripathi.”

“Attempting connection… Attempting connection… Attempting connection… Attempting connection…”

“Campbell?”

Campbell is so stunned that for several long moments he stares at his computer, at the holo-screen displaying a successful connection, counting up the seconds on their call. “Campbell?” Sana says again. “Is that you?”

“Captain Tripathi,” he manages finally. “You’re…”

“Alive,” finishes Sana, with a smile in her voice.

#tscosi #the strange case of starship iris #sana tripathi #ignatius campbell #sana/campbell #arkady patel #campbell is a world champion piner #i got really into the telemachus headcanons as you can probably tell #i mean the details we're given in the show suggest that telemachus is pretty... rebellious? revolutionary? as a planet #and i thought that was cool #also i need to spend way more time developing headcanons about the fallout from the rumor recordings because wow #i had not even thought about that at all #also i would love if campbell reacts to season one becomes an actual trope #guys help me make it happen

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lets-talk-appella · 6 years ago

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i’m nobody’s but yours

Chapter 6/25 - Chloe

Summary: Beca is straight as an arrow. 100%, totally, completely straight. Except for one problem that 100%, totally, completely changes everything: Chloe Beale.

Title borrowed from Calum Scott’s “If Our Love Is Wrong.”

Word Count: 4k

Rating: M (for dark themes, homophobia, masturbation, and eventual smut in later chapters)

AO3, FFN, and under the cut

The first time Chloe sees Beca kissing Jesse, she has to excuse herself from the Nationals stage to run to the bathroom.

She almost doesn’t make it, but manages to barge into a stall in the otherwise empty bathroom before the first tear falls. She’s both surprised and not surprised by the jagged pain radiating through her chest; surprised because she hadn’t expected it to hurt this badly, and not surprised because a part of her has been waiting for this to happen ever since she’d fallen in love with Beca.

She squeezes her eyes shut to block out the image of Beca and Jesse kissing, only for it to be projected on the insides of her eyelids. The memory fills her, rising like bile in her stomach.

Leaning over the toilet, she wonders if she’s about to be sick and heaves –

Beca and Jesse Beca and Jesse Beca and Jesse

– but nothing comes up.

It makes her chest hurt even more, so instead she lets herself semi-collapse onto the bathroom floor, her back against the stall wall and head in her hands.

BecaandJesseBecaandJesseBecaandJesse.

It runs together in her mind on a loop, the image of her arms around his neck and his hands on her hips.

She should have known. Of course Beca’s straight – she’s had no reason to believe otherwise – and of course she’s seeing Jesse. She’d let herself get her hopes up, and now they’ve come crashing down around her ears. She only has herself to blame.

After a long moment, Chloe forces herself to stand shakily from the bathroom floor. The others will likely come looking for her before too long. She wipes her face with bath tissue, then opens the stall door, wincing at her reflection in the mirror. She does her best to fix her makeup and calm herself while the pain in her chest only grows with every beat of her heart.

***************

Chloe can’t even remember how many times over the last seven years she’s sat in the Bellas kitchen, waiting for one of the girls to come back home.

She’s seen it all. She’s waited for Stacie the morning after a wild party, for Aubrey after a big exam, for Amy after seeing Bumper, for Beca after her classes, and for all the others following everything from breaks from school, breakups with significant others, or just simply from a long day at class. She’s been there for hugs, coffee, hangover food, and to just listen. There have been good times, bad times, and times in between, and always, Chloe waits in her usual chair at the kitchen counter, waiting for her Bellas to come back to her.

She’s not sure she’s ever been this nervous before.

Well. Except for maybe one time.

Now, Chloe sits in her chair as she supervises preparation for the end-of-year-and-winning-Worlds party hosted by the Trebles. Emily stands over the twin pots boiling on the stove, one red and one green, holding a measuring cup full of water in one hand and a full bottle of vodka in the other.

“Is this right?” Emily asks, adding the cold water and vodka.

Chloe glances away from the front door to watch. “Um, you can add a little more vodka,” she replies. She has a hunch they might all need it after Beca comes home.

Emily complies, adding a generous measure of the alcohol and giggling as it splashes into the pot. “I’ve never made Jello shots before!” she says excitedly.

“I’d hope not,” Chloe smiles, “you’re only 19. We’re corrupting you.”

Shrugging, Emily replies, “What else is new, right? This feels so… rebellious.”

“It’s Bella tradition to bring red and green Jello shots to the end of year party,” Chloe responds absently, looking toward the front door again. She thought she’d heard a footstep on the porch, but when no one comes in, she figures she must have imagined it.

“And the taco dip?” Emily asks, nodding to the fridge, inside of which rests a hue pan of the dip she and Chloe had already made.

“Yep, that’s tradition too, now,” Chloe looks back to Emily. “It’s Beca’s favorite snack, so.”

Emily hesitates, and the mood in the room shifts. Chloe looks at the front door again; it’s been more than an hour. Chloe’s insides squirm as her mind runs wild with thoughts of Jesse getting angry at her, or begging Beca to give him a second chance. The idea that Beca might actually do just that – that she might return to the Bella house with the same relationship status as when she left – makes Chloe’s throat tighten and her stomach rebel.

“Beca should be back soon, right?” Emily asks, uncharacteristically softly.

All the Bellas know where Beca is and what she’s doing. It’s all thanks to Amy, of course. On the plane back from Copenhagen, Beca had been even more antisocial and sullen (Amy’s words, not Chloe’s) than usual, and Amy had pestered her about it relentlessly until Beca had finally snapped. She’d told them (well, told the whole plane, actually – she’d sort of yelled it) that she’d be dumping (Chloe’s word, not Beca’s) Jesse almost as soon as they all got back to the States.

Amy had cheered, Stacie had said, “About time,” and Flo given a prayer of thanks.

It had mollified Chloe to know that she isn’t the only one to be happy with this turn of events.

“Right, soon,” Chloe replies to Emily’s question, her throat rather dry.

Emily frowns, but before she can say anything, the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs from the second floor grabs Chloe’s attention and she looks around to see Amy and Flo arriving on the ground floor. Amy’s carrying several Wii games in her arms, including Mario Kart and Just Dance.

“Hey,” Amy says loudly, “Either of you twig bitches want to play with us?”

Flo nods. “In my country, playing games together was a great way to bond. Also, I will destroy you.”

“Ooh!” Emily hums. “Maybe after we’re done I will.”

Amy grins her approval and looks to Chloe. “Ginger?”

“I’m probably okay,” Chloe shakes her head, trying to look regretful. “Bit of a stomach ache.”

“Uh huh,” Amy stares at her for a second, her expression unreadable. “Well, if you change your mind, I’ll be kicking this one’s ass,” she continues, gesturing to Flo, who scoffs openly.

“That’s what you think,” she says. “Mario is in my Latin blood.”

“Mario’s Italian,” comes Stacie’s voice as she also walks down the stairs, dressed in leggings and a tight sports bra. She waves at them all, not breaking stride as she heads to the front door. “And bye, I’m gonna go for a run!”

Amy shakes her head sadly as the door closes behind Stacie. “Too much cardio,” she says dismissively before grabbing hold of Flo’s arm and dragging her into the sitting room, where Ashley’s Wii is connected to the TV.

Chloe turns back around in time to see Emily peering questioningly into the pots on the stove.

“Um, think these are done?” Emily says, her tone doubtful.

“Oh!” Chloe starts; she’d completely forgotten about the Jello shots. “Uh, probs. Think you can pour them out okay?”

Emily nods, pursing her lips at the hundred or so little cups already set out and waiting on the counter. She lifts the red pot off the stove first, clutching the handle tightly. Chloe only pretends to watch; in actuality, her ears are straining for any sign of an approaching Beca Mitchell.

Because the kitchen window is open, she hears a few birds outside, enjoying the early summer sunlight; she hears Amy and Flo in the other room, already trash-talking each other (“Eat my banana peel, you oversized road mountain!” “I will not! How dare you?”); she hears what might by Ashley and Jessica upstairs performing their weekly furniture rearrangement; she thinks she can even hear the wind whispering through the leaves outside. A car door slams at the house next door and she jumps, but thankfully, Emily doesn’t notice as she replaces the now-empty red Jello pot and reaches for the green.

Chloe sighs, resigned to waiting even longer. At that moment, however, she hears what is most definitely footsteps on the porch. Her heart kicks into overdrive, and a second later, the door opens to reveal a haggard-looking Beca.

***************

Chloe feels like the worst best friend in the entire world. Normal best friends are there for each other constantly. They can talk about anything and everything without the other getting upset. Normal best friends have no secrets, no boundaries, and are happy for each other’s successes.

Normal best friends support each other’s relationships.

But Chloe can’t do that, not when Beca’s in a relationship with someone other than her. Every time Beca mentions Jesse, Chloe can feel the way her face freezes for just a heartbeat before she can try to arrange her expression into something halfway supportive. Every time she sees Beca and Jesse together – on campus, at parties, at a cappella competitions – and she notices how much he touches and kisses her, it sends molten jealousy and rage pouring through her veins. She’s not sure what makes her angrier; that Jesse will never be able to treat Beca like she deserves, or the fact that she’d let herself fall for Beca in the first place.

All Chloe knows for sure is that despite Jesse, she’s still falling more by the day. And Beca can never know about it.

She’s the worst best friend.

***************

Beca wanders into the kitchen, eyes downcast and headphones on. Even from several feet away, Chloe can hear the heavy bass pouring through them, a sure sign that Beca’s mind is far away. Chloe isn’t sure she even sees her or Emily, as focused as she is on the floor. It’s an impression that’s only verified when Beca starts in surprise when Emily greets her brightly mid-Jello pour.

“Oh! Hey, guys,” Beca says in a forced-casual tone as she slides the headphones down around her neck and pauses the music on her phone. She leans against the counter stiffly, her eyes roaming over the setting red Jello while Emily finishes up the green.

“Hey,” Chloe says, trying not to sound as breathless as she feels. She’s pretty sure her palms have started sweating. “How’d it go with…?” Chloe trails off, not wanting to say his name.

She wipes her palms on her jeans under the table as discreetly as she can.

Beca sighs and brings up a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. “It was – yeah, it went okay.”

“So...” Chloe prods. She doesn’t want to seem like she’s prying, but really, the suspense is killing her, and she has to know what happened. She schools her features as well as she can, trying to keep a neutral mask even though she feels like lunging over the counter and shaking Beca until she confirms or denies (god, she’d better confirm) a breakup.

“What?” Beca asks tiredly, then her expression shifts to understanding. “Oh, uh, we’re done, yeah. I guess I’m staying here, at least for the summer.”

Yes! Yes yes yes yes! Chloe’s chest expands with happiness, which she immediately tries to dampen down. What is wrong with her? She shouldn’t be this excited for her best friend’s failed relationship… and yet.

It means that Beca is staying.

“Oh, Bec…” Chloe trails off, not trusting her voice. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just, headache.”

Emily returns the emptied pot to the stove, all of the Jello shots poured and cooling. “Oh no, I’m so sorry, Beca, that can’t be easy. Er, Jesse, I mean, not – not the headache.”

“It’s okay, Legacy,” Beca mutters.

“Yeah, well,” Emily says bracingly, moving forward quickly to wrap Beca in a massive hug.

Beca’s “Mmph!” of surprise is muffled into Emily’s shoulder; Chloe’s grateful for the distraction, because it gives her the time she needs to again control the excitement and relief burning through her limbs at the prospect of having Beca in her life for another three months in the Bella house.

And, maybe, since she’s single for the first time in three years...

Chloe clamps down hard on that thought before it can fully form, annoyed at herself for being so incredibly inappropriate. Beca’s relationship with Jesse ended barely thirty seconds ago, and besides, Beca is still straight and still her best friend. It’s not right for her to be thinking like this. Chloe’s face warms with the familiar shame. To hide it, she pretends to count the completed Jello shots until Beca extracts herself from Emily’s arms.

“Great, that’s – um, thanks, Em,” Beca mumbles, not making eye contact with either of them as she reaches into the cupboard for a yellow plastic cup, then turns to the sink and busies herself with pouring a glass of water. Chloe tries not to read too much into it that Beca had chosen what has long been established as her cup.

She fails.

Emily smiles at the back of Beca’s head. “Yeah, anytime. I really am sorry, Beca.”

Despite her elation, Chloe somehow manages to remember to ask, “Did Jesse take it okay?” It’s not because she cares about Jesse’s feelings about the breakup (she really, really doesn’t care), but because she knows it’s what she’s supposed to do in this situation.

She doesn’t quite have it in her to apologize, though, like Emily has twice already. She can’t outright lie to her best friend.

Beca nods, a strange expression on her face. “Yeah, he – he yelled a little, but once everything passed, I think he was, you know, okay. I guess we both knew it was gonna happen sooner or later,” she shrugs.

Chloe feels a muscle in her own face twitch in annoyance at the image of Jesse yelling.

“He didn’t –?” she starts protectively, trying to refrain from marching right into the Treble house and punching him.

“Oh, no,” Beca dismisses, shaking her head. “He actually was good about it. He understood more after I – after.” Beca stops abruptly and she hurriedly raises her water to her lips to take a long swig of it.

Warning bells echo off the walls of Chloe’s mind, but before she can ask exactly what “after” means, Emily leans forward.

“Are things weird now?” she asks, maybe thinking of the party later. “You know, between you two?”

Beca shakes her head. “Nah, I think we’ll be friends,” she says, sounding surprised about it. She takes another sip of her water, then asks abruptly, “Is there taco dip?”

It’s a transparent change of subject, but Chloe doesn’t mind; she doesn’t really want to think about Jesse any more than necessary.

Emily beams and wordlessly opens the refrigerator, gesturing grandly to the dip, offering it to Beca. However, Beca shakes her head and grins. “I’ll wait until the party,” she says.

Chloe’s eyebrows lift in surprise. She’d assumed Beca wasn’t planning on going to the party. But, she’s not about to complain; she’ll take any time she can get with Beca, especially now that she knows they’ll still be living in the same house for a while.

Beca finishes her water with a last gulp, then places the cup next to the sink to be washed later. She gives Emily a thin-lipped smile, and turns to leave the kitchen, presumably headed for the stairs. The path takes her right past where Chloe sits.

Automatically, Chloe rises from her chair, expecting to draw Beca into a hug as Emily had done. Instead, however, Beca veers around her sharply.

“Oh, um –” Beca says, but keeps moving without a backward glance at Chloe, though her ears turn a light shade of pink. She reaches the stairs and bounds up them, taking two at a time.

Chloe can only stare after her retreating back. She hears Beca reach the landing, then nothing.

Robotically, Chloe lowers herself to perch back in her chair. The excitement in her chest is gone, replaced by an empty ache. She looks up, half-expecting to see Emily staring at her with the same confusion she feels, but Emily doesn’t seem to have noticed anything as she stands at the sink runs hot water to wash the dishes.

Upstairs, Chloe hears someone knock on a door, then the sounds of that door opening and closing.

Chloe swallows, her mouth suddenly cottony. “Em, if you’ve got this, I’ll…”

“Yep!” Emily chirps over her shoulder, hands already plunged into the soapy water.

Chloe stands again from her chair, then turns and makes her way up the stairs on autopilot. She should be happy and excited that Beca’s staying in town, but all she can think about is the detached look on Beca’s face as she had stepped around her in the kitchen to avoid touching her.

God. She’d been sure it was because of Jesse. She’d hoped it was because of Jesse.

She makes for her room, passing Cynthia Rose’s closed door as well as Stacie’s. Cynthia Rose must be playing music, she notes dimly, registering voices from inside the room but unable to focus on them.

If Jesse isn’t the reason Beca won’t touch her… then that means Chloe is. She must have done something or said something, or – icy panic fills Chloe’s veins as she steps into her bedroom. What if – somehow – Beca’s figured it out? If Beca knows how she feels?

Jesus. God. Shit.

That must be it. That has to be it. Beca knows, and she’s grossed out and doesn’t want Chloe to touch her anymore because of it. She thinks that Chloe’s a creepy, weird predator, and doesn’t want anything to do with her.

Chloe’s heart drops and she can feel herself spiraling. She can’t not touch Beca; that’s how she shows she cares about someone, and, god, if Beca’s really planning on staying in the Bella house for the rest of the summer, then how the hell is Chloe supposed to be around her, if there’s this wall up now between them, and it’s just –

Breathing hard, Chloe throws herself to her laptop and wrenches it open, pulling up the first playlist she can find on it. She plays it at full volume, focusing as hard as she can on the music and trying her hardest to not think.

***************

The first time Chloe can tell Beca and Jesse have had sex, she has to excuse herself from the kitchen to run to the bathroom.

She’s sitting in the kitchen with Stacie and Flo, both of whom nurse severe hangovers from the previous night’s “Welcome Back to School Hell” Treble party. Chloe, though, is completely fine as per usual. Physically, anyway.

Her mind churns far more than her stomach does; she hopes that she’d been imagining things, that she hadn’t actually seen what she’d thought she’d seen before leaving the party last night. She hopes that Beca’s safely in her attic room upstairs, sleeping off the hangover.

Chloe had messed up; she’d lost track of Beca at the Treble party. Ordinarily, she barely lets Beca out of her sight at those parties. There’s too much risk of some random guy hitting on her, or for her to become too drunk and get handsier with Jesse than she normally would. Last night, however, Beca had somehow slipped under Chloe’s radar. She’d assumed that Beca had gotten tired, had left the party early, and was already out of the Treble house. So, Chloe had rounded everyone up and had been on the way out the door when something, a noise maybe, had made her glance back into the house.

She’d caught just the barest glimpse of the back of someone who could have been Beca rising from the stairs, apparently having tripped, and being guided up them by someone Chloe couldn’t quite see but might have been Jesse. She told herself then – and she tells herself now – that it wasn’t Beca and Jesse, that it was someone else looking for a vacant bedroom, because she thought Beca was planning on making Jesse wait longer.

Chloe takes a deep breath through her nose, inhaling the scent of coffee in the air. She’d been mistaken last night. Beca’s in her room upstairs, and she’s going to come down any minute, and the knot in Chloe’s stomach will all have been for nothing and it won’t matter that she didn’t follow her gut instinct to go back into the Treble house in search of Beca. Chloe’s almost managed to convince herself that she hears Beca’s footsteps coming down the stairs.

That is, until the front door swings open and a yawning Beca shuffles through, heading immediately into the kitchen and the coffee pot. She’s wearing the same clothes as the night before and sporting a massive hickey on her neck that makes the knot in Chloe’s stomach twist and tighten.

Beca has never spent the night after a party before.

She’s never shown up wearing the same outfit the next morning.

As soon as Stacie sees Beca, she lets out a squeal that makes everyone flinch. “Oh my god,” she cries, “you – you and Jesse – you –”

Beca lifts an eyebrow at Stacie’s stuttering, a pink tinge creeping up her neck and into her cheeks.

Chloe sits and watches as if from far away. A brick appears in her throat, scraping down her esophagus to plop into her stomach, where it stays. No, maybe Stacie’s wrong, maybe Beca just slept on his futon or something, or just slept next to him, maybe that’s it. Chloe wants to cover her ears and eyes, wants to hide, wants to block out any affirmation that Beca – her Beca – and Jesse –

“You Hunted! And got some!” Stacie finally manages, utterly delighted. Even Flo perks up at that, looking at Beca with renewed interest.

Chloe wants desperately for Beca to deny it, to make a face and hide in her room like every other time Stacie’s brought up her and Jesse’s sex life, to explain that no, she’s waiting for someone better to come along, but –

A corner of Beca’s mouth lifts into an awkward and slightly sheepish smile, and her eyes flick around the room, hesitating at Chloe’s for a second. Then, Beca nods once, confirming it, and resumes filling her coffee mug.

The world falls from under Chloe’s feet at the same time she bolts up from her chair and throws herself toward the stairs. Even as she’s climbing them, taking two at a time, she can hear Stacie’s voice: “How was he? What did you think? It was your first time, right? Did he ask you to –” and then she’s covering her ears as she runs, not wanting to know what he asked Beca to do, not wanting to know what Beca felt and how Jesse is in bed.

She’s both surprised and not surprised that it had finally happened; surprised because it’s been almost a year and a half since Beca and Jesse started dating, and she’d been starting to think – hope – it would never happen, and also not surprised because she’s been expecting this to happen from the first time she saw them kiss.

God, she hopes he treated her like she deserves, took the time to talk it through with her, make sure everything felt good for her, went slowly so she never felt any pain.

Before she can stop herself, she’s picturing it as she runs to the bathroom –

Jesse undressing her, Jesse on top of her, Beca’s face, Beca’s bare body, Beca’s hands on his back,

Beca and Jesse, Beca and Jesse Beca and Jesse BecaandJesseBecaandJesseBecaandJesse

– and she almost doesn’t make it, but manages to fling herself into the bathroom and lock the door before she’s violently sick into the toilet.

Later, she tells Beca – when Beca asks – that she must have drank too much the night before.

For some reason, Beca believes her.

#bechloe #bechloe fic #my writing #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pitch perfect fanfic #i'm nobody's but yours #chapter six #this chapter is angsty #just so you know #starts with a flashback #posting a day early because my Saturday is going to be busy

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afewmarvelousthoughts · 6 years ago

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No Surrender: Part 2

Part 1

Request: hey i love your writing!! i was wondering if you could write something where the ready and bucky are in the same hydra facility and try to escape together. idk maybe that’s bad but i love your writing!!

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: In the winter of 1945 Hydra captures Sargent James Barnes. After months spent unconscious, he wakes up in a cell with you and a new addition on his left side. Quickly it becomes clear that being locked up together may be the best bout of luck either of you has had in a while… Maybe together the two of you have a chance of making it out of this hell alive. Now, 69 years later the two of you are brought back together, scars and all. War changes everyone it touches but maybe, together, you can both find some kind of peace.

Warnings: Light angst, heavy emotions, that’s really it

A/N: Lol, one shot. I know better. This is prob going to be a 3 part with an epilogue. Why? Because this is A Few Marvelous Thoughts and that’s how things are done here. The stories are long and the writer is overly invested in ALL OF THEM. And, honestly, I kind of liked doing something that brought the Howlers into the mix and some Peggy and... yeah. I’m just enjoying myself. I hope y’all enjoy it too!

Tags are open!

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @wonderlandmind4@piensa-bonito @buckysstar @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @handplucked @krugeforeveryone @jewelofwinter @get-loki @just-a-littlebit-of-everything

June 2014

You stare at your muted reflection in the airplane window tracing the scar on your cheek. It’s not quite as visible as it once was but you can feel it all the same.

Pulling your eyes away you check the screen on the back of the seat in front of you. One more hour until DC. It had been 69 years, what was one more hour… Still, you can’t keep your heeled foot from jiggling nervously.

Opening your iPad you look over the files Sharon sent you, thinking as you often do just how much easier this kind of tech would have made yours and Peg’s lives back in the day.

You wish Stark was here to give him shit for not coming up with this sooner. Thinking of your old friends always brings a sad smile to your face. Absentmindedly you fiddle with the dog tags and wedding rings always hanging around your neck from a long chain.

Steve and someone named Wilson had brought him in. Physically he was fine, some minor injuries but nothing to cause concern. Mentally… severe memory loss, disorientation, disassociation, PTSD, on and on. Quickly you scroll past it all, you didn’t need to read about it to know that a lifetime with Hydra could leave a person fractured. At the end was what you wanted. A photo.

He looked much the same. Dark hair and those spectacular blue eyes but… he was changed, even in a photo, you could see that. Really though you were all changed. Not one of you left that war or any of the ones that followed without wounds that wouldn’t heal.

Tenderly your fingers touch the image on the screen. You’re lost in memories of a day so long ago that the flight attendant startles you when she approaches.

“Sorry, ma'am,” she smiles brightly, “would you like another gin and tonic before we land?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.” It wouldn’t do anything to calm your nerves of course, but you liked the taste.

The first sip reminds you you’ll also need to see Peg… it got harder every time. Silently you pray to anything that will listen for her to be lucid so you can tell her you found him, finally after all these years. Sharon said that seeing Steve helped her, he brought back the old Peg. Maybe you’d get lucky. Though… guilt roils in your gut.

You’d spent the last couple of years actively avoiding Steve Rogers. All you could think was that you could only give him a story of regret, one more may have been. He didn’t need that. Something in your heart reminds you though, you have more than that to give him. Stories of his old friends no one else could tell. How the Howlers never forgot him, how every toast until the very end held his name… and Bucky’s. What kind of legacy he really left with the people that mattered.

A tear winds its way down your cheek and you dash it away. You’d make up for it now. Tell them both the rest of their story. Maybe it would be a comfort.

When the wheels meet the tarmac your heart lodges in your throat. You rush off the plane to the nearest restroom to inspect yourself. In the floor length mirror, you smooth a hand over your breezy white blouse tucked into a pair of camel high waist trousers. The slim straight fit showed off your figure just enough. To anyone, you would look like a woman in her early 40’s maybe. A few grey hairs, soft lines on your face, but still young enough and certainly not 94.

You take a shaky breath, reapply your red lipstick, and stride confidently out of the airport, ready as you’ll ever be.

From the outside, it looks like a nondescript, if not a touch run down, office building. You know it’s an old S.H.I.E.L.D. office. They’re holding him here, assessing him, trying to figure out exactly what to do in a situation that bucks just about every bit of protocol there is in one way or another.

“Thank you,” you say to the agent in the front seat.

Your accent had softened over the decades. This thought makes worry curl in your gut. The chances of him recognizing you are so slim. You were older, your voice was different… Hell, the report said he had trouble remembering Steve and they’d known one another their whole lives until the war. He’d only known you for a day…

“Are you ok?” The young man asks gently.

“Yes, sorry…” Your hand curls around the handle.

“Don’t know why they’re sending someone like you in with a monster like that. If you don’t wanna to go I’ll take you to your hotel or some-”

Your well-manicured hand wrapped around his throat cuts him off, “If that’s what you think that man is,” your voice a malicious purr, “I highly suggest you find a new line of work, boy.” You release him and go to open the door.

Turning back to him you catch his slack-jawed expression, “That man deserves your respect. Am I clear?”

“Y-Yes ma’am,” he stammers.

“Good,” you open the door and step out, strutting up to the building, adding just a touch of extra sway to your hips for good measure.

At the door, you push a button to activate the com, “Y/N Bernard, here for Sharon Carter.” There’s no response just a click.

As you enter the sparse lobby you hear the elevator ding, the doors swoosh, your body tenses on reflex. When a blonde with a bright smile exits though, you relax.

“Aunt Y/N!” Sharon calls, her tone full of excitement. She rushes you and you embrace your best friend’s favorite niece. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too my darling,” you pull the girl back and look at her. So much like her mother but she inherited Peggy’s fire.

“Come on, let’s get started.” You follow her into the elevator.

As the doors close and the elevator moves down, you reach into your tote to pull out a small box, “I never forget, mon chaton.”

Sharon laughs, taking the box from you, “You didn’t have to.” She lifts one of the macarons out, taking a bite, savoring it.

“Bah,” you wave away her protest, “of course I did.” Every time you saw Sharon you brought her some. Her whole life.

She takes a deep shaky breath, closing the lid, “Thank you Aunt Y/N.” Tenderly you cup the side of her face with your left hand, she shakes her head, “I’m ok.”

“No, you’re not. Nor should you be,” you tuck a strand of hair behind her ear as the elevator settles. “I’m here for you, always, you know that?”

“I do.” The doors slide open and you follow your adopted niece out. Heart kicking up a notch.

Sharon leads you down a corridor to a conference room. A young man with a kind smile rounds the corner just before she opens the door.

“Hey, Sam,” Sharon nods at him.

“Hey,” he returns the nod. “You must be Mrs. Bernard. Sam Wilson, it’s good to meet you,” he extends a hand and you take it giving it a shake.

“It’s, miss,” you say smiling. “But you can call me, Y/N. Thank you for what you did.”

Sam shakes his head, “Just helping out a fellow soldier, no need for thanks.”

“You have it anyway,” you smile, liking this young man already.

Sharon opens the door and your eyes see, not initially Steve Rogers as you expect, but Tony Stark. Once he registers who you are his jaw hits the floor, eyes wide with shock.

“You look well Anthony,” a mischievous smile curls your lips, “certainly better than the last time I saw you.”

“How do you…?” Sharon, standing to your right, looks like she may not want to know the answer.

You laugh, “Oh no darling, nothing like that. I simply got Anthony here out of a pinch in where was it Morocco?”

“Monaco,” Tony says, smiling a smile that makes you think of his father.

“Ah, yes Monaco,” Sam rounds the table and takes a seat to Tony’s left. “You couldn’t have been 17. Pissed off the wrong person and landed in a cell.”

“And somehow you got me out. Though I was more scared of you than the cops after that verbal lashing.”

“That sounds like my Aunt Y/N,” Sharon says smiling.

Tony’s brows raise trying to work that one out, “But you never told my dad.”

“What point was there to tell, Howard? He would have just thrown some overblown fit. He loved to hear himself talk, especially when he was angry.”

Tony laughs, “You’re not wrong.”

“Sounds like you knew Howard well,” a voice from the back left corner of the room says causing you to jump a little. Steve Rogers is leaning there, arms crossed, face dark, watching you.

You swallow hard, “I did. I knew them all… very well.”

He saunters to the table, “So I saw,” slamming down a thick file before he takes a seat. You hold his gaze for a second. The emotion passing between the two of you beyond words.

“Ooook,” Tony breaks the silence and you turn to him a tense smile on your lips. “I’m assuming you’re some kind of super soldier too.”

You take a seat next to Sharon, across from Tony. “I wouldn’t say soldier but I am… enhanced. Much like Captain Rogers and Sargent Barnes. Only difference is I was never put on ice.”

“So you were born in…?” Sam is studying you with fascination.

“1920, I’m 94 years old,” he makes a whistling noise and you laugh.

The door opens and a slender brunette rushes in, “Sorry, had another fire to put out.” Agent Hill looks at you as you stand, “I’m-”

“Agent Hill,” you smile at her, “Nick spoke highly of you.” Your knowing gaze seems to convey that you’re all too aware that he’s fully alive. It would take a cataclysm to kill Nick Fury. Thank god for it.

“And you’re, Y/N Bernard,” her head shakes and an awkward smile curls her lips. “I never thought I’d have the honor.”

“The pleasure is mine, I assure you.”

She rounds the table and sits at the head opposite Steve, taking a deep breath. “Did you all start without me?”

“Nope,” Sharon slides a tablet to her.

“Good. We wanted to take a moment to brief you on the predicament we’re in, Ms. Bernard.”

“Y/N, please.”

“Y/N,” Hill smiles, “we think things are going to move quickly. The government wants to clean this mess up and do things under the radar as much as possible. That means we have to work fast to get our bearings and determine the best course of action.”

“Bearings regarding S.H.I.E.L.D. or Sargent Barnes?” You ask, tone even but suspect.

“Both,” Hill runs a hand over her face. “We’ve had Barnes for almost two weeks. So far they’re letting us hold him, mainly because no one else is equipped, but who knows how long that will last. Technically he’s considered a P.O.W. and Wilson is pulling any strings he can to sort that situation out. Get Barnes the care he deserves.”

You look to Sam, his eyes are on the wood of the table hands clasped in front of him. The Howlers would have liked this one. Out of habit you pull the necklace from your shirt and begin to fiddle with the contents.

“However, in the month since S.H.I.E.L.D. was exposed…” She clears her throat. You understand her pain, the thought that Hydra was so close… “Well, it’s become pretty apparent that there’s no rebuilding it.”

Sharon glances over to you. Slipping your hand into hers you give it a squeeze. Losing S.H.I.E.L.D. was like losing a part of yourselves.

“Stark has offered an alternative, kind of an official/unofficial organization,” Tony nods, “but that’s for another time. Right now we have to deal with the very real possibility of Barnes being put on trial.” Your blood runs cold, you release Sharon’s hand, worried you may accidentally break it.

“On trial for what exactly?” You spit.

Hill’s look is soft, sympathetic, “Anything they can pin on him.”

“That’s preposterous,” you try to take a deep breath to calm yourself.

“We agree,” Hill nods. “That’s why we’re trying to make sure we have anything we can to prove that whatever actions he partook in when he was with them was against his will.”

Her jaw tenses, “Agent Carter has implied you may be able to help with that. There’s not a lot on file about you. You’re officially listed as retired, have been for over 40 years. I’ve heard stories of course but…”

“I’ll tell you anything you need to know. Put me on the stand if you must.”

“Aunt Y/N, that would-” Sharon’s eyes are filled with fear.

“Expose me? I know, mon chaton, I know,” your smile is tender. “It doesn’t matter. For him, I would do anything.”

Hill goes to speak but Steve cuts her off, his voice low, heavy with emotion, “Why?”

You drag your eyes to the brooding Captain, “Because, Captain Rogers, 69 years ago Bucky Barnes saved my life.” Your voice cracks despite your efforts, “And he’s here today because of that.” Sharon’s hand rests on your knee, trying to provide comfort. She doesn’t know that some hurts are too deep for comfort.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Hill’s voice is soft. “If it comes to that we will talk strategy. How about we break for now. I need,” she rubs the bridge of her nose, “something.”

Everyone stands to leave. You direct Sharon to look after Agent Hill and go to follow them all out when Steve grabs your arm.

“I think we need to talk,” his blue eyes are stormy.

“I agree,” you look into the conference room.

“No, follow me,” he walks to the elevators without once looking back.

It’s possible that it’s the most awkward elevator ride of your long life. When the doors open he walks to the end of the hall, a door opening to a steep flight of stairs.

“Will those be a problem,” he glances down to your breakneck stilettos.

You raise an eyebrow at him, “You’d be surprised what I can do in heels, Captain Rogers.” He holds the door and you sprint up them, never teetering and not the least bit winded, smirking a bit at him as he comes up behind you.

Inwardly you thank god that he wanted to talk outside, you want a cigarette, desperately. Reaching into your bag you pull the pack and flick one up skillfully, pulling it out with red lips. He’s watching and you smile with the unlit cigarette between your lips.

“Want one?” You hold the pack out. He shrugs and takes one. You’re about to pull out your matches when he flicks up a zippo.

“Light?” You nod and he lights yours before his own. A smile plays on your lips as you try to think of the last time a man lit your cigarette.

He walks to the edge of the roof and sits on the low wall facing you. Taking a drag he finally speaks, “I never smoked before… this,” he gestures to his body. “So I never really knew what the appeal was but the motion is-”

“Soothing,” you finish sitting next to him. “I miss what nicotine used to do to me. Can’t tell you how often I have wished I could get drunk still. Never thought I’d miss a good hangover.”

He laughs a little, “Yeah.” The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, lost in your own thoughts.

“What did you mean?” Rogers is staring off into the distance.

“Sorry?” You’re unsure what he wants you to clarify.

“When you said he’s here because he saved you… what did you mean?”

Your heart squeezes. Memories of that place, the sound of the soldiers coming, the bunker shaking, the look on his face as he shoved you into that crawl space… So long ago but it may as well have been yesterday.

Taking a deep breath you dive in, “Hydra captured me in January 1945…”

The two of you burn through two more cigarettes each as tell him your story. You keep the part about promises of dances and that kiss to yourself. Though your hand lingers near your lips as you remember.

“I crawled through that tunnel for what must have been a mile,” you take a drag. “When I finally got out I ran for two days until I came across a British camp. They thought I was Hydra with the uniform and all. I kept telling them, ‘My name is Y/N Bernard, I am French Resistance Lyon. I have a message for Captain America.’ But they wouldn’t-”

“Wait,” he holds up a hand, “what was the message.”

Oh. You had told him Bucky said find Steve and the Howlers but the message… You hold Steve’s gaze, “I was to tell you that it wasn’t the end of the line.” Somehow you had maintained composure through the whole thing but now tears spill from your eyes.

Rogers looks away, sniffing hard, wiping at his own eyes. His elbows rest on his knees and he laughs a bit, shaking his head, “It really was him then.”

“Oui,” you sit straighter trying to get a hold of yourself. “Of course they didn’t believe me. Threw me in shackles and transported me to London.” Steve’s eyes burn into you but you can’t look at him.

“Once there they locked me in an interrogation room for hours until they found, Peg,” your voice almost breaks but you push through it. “Since… since I was a woman and it had to do with you they thought she was best. I told her everything. Begged, cried, pleaded her to bring me to you, I had a message we didn’t have time…” Your hands are trembling with emotion, “Finally I just told her the message, just to pass it along. Lock me in a cell, whatever she had to do just to tell you.”

Finally, you can look at him, “That’s when she told me you had died. But she believed me, apparently, you had shared that pledge you and Bucky had with her.”

He nods and you press on, “She took me to the Howlers immediately. Said we had a mission. At first, they didn’t believe some broad but Dugan,” you have to take a breath, “he said that if there was even a chance we had to take it.”

“Sounds like him,” Steve smiles sadly.

“It does, yes,” your hand toys with the tags, “We left the next day.” You shake your head, the lump in your throat growing, “We weren’t fast enough… I knew we wouldn’t be,” tears stream down your face now.

“I failed him. He saved me and I didn’t make it back in time,” a sob tears out before you can stop it. You hadn’t ever told this story not the full thing… it felt like a special kind of hell.

Steve lays a hand on your back. You look to him, “We didn’t stop looking though. Every base, every agent, we tried to find something, anything, that would lead us to him. But… we never found him…”

“You were a Howler,” his tone is filled with respect.

You nod, “I was. Proud to be too.” You squeeze his knee, “They never forgot you, either of you.”

Tears sparkle in Steve’s eyes, “Did you know… when I… when I woke up?”

Shame rolls over you but you don’t look away, “I knew the day they found you, Fury called me…”

“Then why… I mean I know we didn’t know each other but… I,” he wipes his eyes and stands to take a few paces. “It would have been good to have someone who knew… what… what it’s like to…”

“Be so out of place?” He nods. “I know,” you look at the ground, tears streaming, “I’m so sorry.” You hold in a sob and try to compose yourself before looking up at him.

“All I could think was that I failed you both, that all I could give you were empty apologies.” He opens his mouth but you hold up a hand, “I know that’s not right… and I’m sorry. It’s a shit excuse, but it is the truth. I’d like to make it up to you if I can.”

Steve shakes his head, “You don’t have to make anything up. I understand.” A smile fills his face, “I’m just happy we have another Howler back where she belongs.”

Something between a laugh and a sob breaks from you and he holds out a hand. When you take it Steve pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. The two of you hold one another and have a good cry for a bit.

“Come on,” he pulls back, “let’s head in.”

You follow him back inside and he leads you to a different section than where the conference room from earlier was. Two guards, heavily armed, eye you as you pass through sliding bulletproof doors.

He pauses in front of a nondescript door and turns to you thumb nervously tapping on the handle. “This is just the monitor room but… do you want to see him?”

Your fingers freeze on the dog tags you’d been fiddling with and stare at him suddenly unable to speak. The obvious answer was yes but… what if it was bad… what if he’s feral or catatonic or- It doesn’t matter.

“Yes,” the word finally crawls from your mouth. Steve smiles opening the door, holding it to allow you entry.

Sam’s already there and gives you a warm smile, “I’ll leave you two.” He gives Steve’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he walks out.

There’s a man wearing simple scrubs sitting on a cot with his back pressed to the wall, head leaned back, a knee pulled up with his metal left arm resting on it. Music is playing from speakers you can’t see, he softly sings along smiling gently.

Your jaw hangs open. This isn’t the ghost you were anticipating. This is Bucky.

“He’s had a good day,” Steve’s voice reaches you but you can’t look away.

Composure leaves you. Doubling over as if you’ve been hit you weep, a huge smile on your face. Pressing the dog tags and rings to your lips you eke out, “He’s ok, Dummy. He’s safe. It’s over, Dummy.”

Steve doesn’t say anything for a minute then you feel his hand on your back, “It’s a lot I know. Here,” he gently lifts you and guides you to a desk chair passing you a box of tissues.

“Thank you,” you wipe at the mascara streaming down your face.

“I’m sorry but… did you say dummy a second ago?” He takes the seat next to you.

You smile, “I did.”

“As in, Dum Dum Dugan.”

Nodding you hold up the necklace, “My husband.”

“That has to be one of the first stories you regale me with,” Steve laughs.

“Deal,” your eyes wander back to one of the screens, fingers hovering over the image of Bucky. You can’t help but think of another cot in another cell. Snapping your eyes shut you remind yourself that this isn’t Hydra… well not anymore.

There’s a knock at the door, “Come in,” Steve replies. Sam and a woman you haven’t met enter. You stand wiping at your eyes a bit more, certain it’s all beyond saving anyway.

Steve introduces you, “Y/N, this is Dr. Laura Carr. She’s the psychologist taking point with Bucky, former S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Dr. Carr takes your hand, “It’s a pleasure.”

“Thank you for being willing to help him, Doctor,” you give her a warm smile.

“No thanks needed. It’s the right thing to do.” She laughs a little, “And I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was more than a little fascinated by the case.”

You like her honesty, “I think that’s a good thing. Curiosity drives us to think outside set parameters,” Sharon comes in as you speak, “and I believe you’re going to need that in this case.” Dr. Carr nods.

Steve looks back at the screen then to you, “Dr. Carr,” he throws her a smile, “do you think Y/N, here could see Bucky today?” Your breath catches and you swear you can hardly feel your heartbeat.

The doctor eyes you, “Sharon told me you two have a history, though she was pretty vague with the details.”

“My apologies, doctor,” you smile softly at Sharon, “the life I’ve led has made vague the default. Being with S.H.I.E.L.D. I’m sure you understand.”

She nods, “I do. It always made things more complicated when your patients couldn’t, or wouldn’t, tell you everything.” She takes a moment and looks to Steve, “You’re his medical power of attorney, if you trust her I would say that today would be fine. Though I will want to monitor the exchange.”

“I trust her,” some tension slides from you at Steve’s words, “I’m ok with you watching. Y/N?”

“Of course,” you nod. “But… there’s something I need to get first.” Confusion settles on the faces around you, “Just a promise I made a long time ago that I’d like to keep. Could I use your car, Sharon?”

“I can drive you,” she walks to your side.

“Fantastic!” You smile up at Steve, “I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Bread?” Sharon eyes the large french loaf you’re cradling as you get back in the car.

“Oui.”

“Not what I was expecting but… ok.”

“What were you expecting, mon chaton?”

She laughs, “I don’t know. Whiskey, brandy, lingerie.”

You laugh fully, it feels good after the weight of the day thus far, “I don’t usually prefer an audience when lingerie is involved, kitten.”

“Please, stop there,” Sharon’s face scrunches in mock disgust.

As she parks the tone shifts, “Will you be ok, Aunt Y/N… seeing him?” She takes your hand giving it a squeeze, “It’s ok if you want to-”

“My sweet girl,” you squeeze back, “I have not been this ok in a long, long time.” Sharon smiles and nods.

Back in the monitor room everyone looks just as confused when you enter with the bread. Steve is already in the room the two talking casually about something.

“You can go in whenever you’re ready, Y/N,” Dr. Carr tells you. “I thought it best to have Steve go in as a sort of warm up. Keep in mind he’s suffering from severe memory loss, he may not know you so don’t be put off by that.”

“I’ve grown strangely used to my friends not knowing me,” sadness flits across Sharon’s features, “doesn’t make me any less happy to see them.” The doctor nods and Sharon leads you down the hall.

The door is heavy, reinforced steel. She enters a code and does a retina scan before the locks give way. You had expected this to lead to the room but there’s just a hall. You go through two more less enforced doors before stopping at one that looks normal.

“You ready?” She asks you. Your grip on the bread tightens a little. The perfect crackle of the crust hits your ears and you know.

“Absolutely.”

“Well, it’s all yours,” she steps behind you, “just let me get past the last door then knock.”

As the door behind you closes you raise your fist, take a deep breath, and rap on the door. The metal tings and you realize that the normalcy is a bit of a front. A moment later Steve opens the door a nervous smile on his lips. He eyes the bread but doesn’t say anything.

“Buck, there’s someone who wants to see you if that’s ok?”

“Sure?” His voice hits you like a freight train. Steve leads you into the room, “Don’t know who would want-” His words halt when he sees you.

You press down the hope that rises in your chest. He doesn’t know you, the chances are too slim. He’s surprised is all, a new person, one he can’t remember wants to see him and he doesn’t know why. You tell yourself you’ve seen this before in Peg, Dernier, and Juniper. This is the same. Don’t get excited.

“Hello, Sargent Barnes,” your voice is soft, heart thundering in your chest. He stands slowly, those eyes you remember so well, studying you. You try to swallow the lump in your throat.

“I know this may be confusing. And that you likely don’t know who I am… That’s ok. I just… wanted to see that you were well and… bring you this.” Tentatively you hold the bread out to him. He takes the wrapped loaf and opens it.

You swear a smile is playing on his lips, “Bread?”

“Oui. I-I know it seems silly-”

“Did you fly all the way from Lyon to bring it to me?” The breath leaves you. Hot tears stream down your face instantly.

He smiles, that bright true smile and sets the bread down on the edge of his cot, “I’m glad you’re ok, Y/N.”

“Bucky,” your voice is thick with emotion. Without thought you fling yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms encircle you holding you tight. When you feel a tremor pass through him you realize he’s crying too.

“I’m so sorry,” you say over and over again.

“Hush,” he whispers, pulling back he looks at you. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I do though. I wasn’t fast enough I-”

“Stop,” his right-hand cups your face. The silence hangs for a moment while you try to find your bearings.

“I don’t know how or why, but you were always one of the first things I’d remember when my memories would come back. Before they…” His whole body shakes and you know exactly what he means. “You gave me hope. Reminded me that there was no surrender,” his lips twitch up into a crooked smile and your heart clenches.

“It’s not from Lyon,” you give him a grin. “But it is French, thought you had waited long enough for some decent bread.”

He laughs, “Well, it’ll do. For now.”

Oh yeah, there’s more to come.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky #steve x reader #steve rogers

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