#there is no way you'd find that kind of light inside a spaceship

[yesbutmakeitgay]

Once Upon A Time I Used To Know A Girl

Chapter 2

Carol Danvers x Reader

Masterlist | This work's masterlist | AO3

Summary: Kamala helps you as you begin your journey to recovery.

Angst, Slow Burn, Amnesia.

Word count: 792

Like A Summer Day, She Could Push The Night So Far Away

Kamala walks you into the living quarters and you stop by the kitchen to rummage inside the fridge, she takes the opportunity to pop by Fury’s office and persuade him to let her go through with her half thought out plan.

After you finish eating the girl takes you upstairs and pauses in front of one of the many identical doors, "This will be your room while you, uh-"

"While my brain gets fixed, got it." You decide you might as well just go with it. You walk inside and try to get comfortable, Kamala says her goodbyes and tells you she’ll be back tomorrow.

Later that night Kamala calls Carol after not finding her anywhere in the compound, she tells her the plan and The Captain reluctantly agrees, still overwhelmed with guilt and heartbreak, on one condition: She cannot tell you about your relationship with Carol.

For the remainder of the week you stay on strict bed rest on doctor's orders. Kamala comes by every day and talks to you about current events and pop culture which, even before the injury, you weren't very good at keeping up with. She makes sure you eat and drink enough liquids and even tries to sneak in little details about your former life to see if you'll remember.

It is the first day after your mandated bed rest is over and Kamala comes back as promised, "How are you liking your room?"

"It’s fine."

"They'll bring all your stuff back from your former residence soon."

"Where was that?"

"You were doing a lot of intergalactic work so you were living in a spaceship," she says, trying to find the most objective way to describe it.

"That sounds awful."

"Well, according to your most recent reports you were really enjoying it."

"You have my reports? Can I read them?"

"They are being held in hopes they might contain information about the ambush." Her words are only half true as you weren't exactly subtle when writing about Carol.

The girl walks you to a conference room to have some privacy and hopefully get started on your recovery. She pulls out her S.A.B.E.R. tablet, "Do you know where we are?"

"The Avengers compound," you answer plainly.

"What do you know about them?" She starts making annotations.

"The Avengers? They're a bunch of stuck up assholes with a hero complex who think they're so special because they can shoot lasers out of some part of their body."

"Right," Kamala exhales heavily, "Do you remember any of them?"

"Uh, let's see, there's Stark, paying his way to the top, there's grandpa America-"

"Captain America," she writes down.

"Big green guy,"

"The hulk."

"Red witchy witch,"

"Scarlet Witch."

"The guy with the arrows, how did he even get in?"

"Hawkeye."

"Oh and tiny bug-man."

"Ant-man. Anyone else?"

"I think that's about it."

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to talk to any of them, see if they can help bring some memories back?"

"You suppose right."

"What about someone else? S.H.I.E.L.D.? Defenders?" she starts to wonder out loud.

"Defenders? Jones?" You let out a small chuckle.

"Yes! Do you know her?" Her eyes light up.

"No," you let her down, "but even if I did, she doesn't seem like the kind of person who likes to talk."

"I guess you're right." She begins to mindlessly scroll through her clear tablet hoping to find an answer when you see a familiar face.

"Rambeau. I'll talk to her if she's around."

She opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out, "Captain Rambeau is unavailable at the moment," she says, carefully choosing her words.

"I can wait," you respond, really trying to be helpful.

"Indefinitely." Her harsh tone tells you this is a conversation for another day.

After a moment she continues with the interrogation, "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Paris," you answer with certainty. Kamala searches on the device, "You're scrolling back an alarming amount, how long ago was Paris?"

"Many years ago," she responds in a quiet voice, a feeling of discouragement taking over you. She begins to read aloud, "Let's see, Paris. Mission to retrieve stolen files. Success. Black Widow." She looks at you when she gets to the last part.

"Yelena," you say, almost like an afterthought.

She gives you a perplexed look, "Natasha."

You accept her correction, "Romanoff."

"You remember her?" You nod in response, "Will you talk to her?" she follows expectantly.

"Absolutely not." Kamala scoffs, "I barely knew her, that's the only mission I ever went on with her. I didn't even live here with them, I had my own home in Louisiana." Your last words peak her interest and she discreetly writes them down.

Tell me all your thoughts!

Tags: @graniairish

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Chapter 3

[aieaiedro]

Hello, Juno. It’s been a while.

(I spent WAY too much time on this thing. I mean I began it right after this episode came out. I wanted to do something cool, meaning I stopped working on it the minute it stopped looking like something cool, meaning it sat in my tablet for months with me carefully avoiding it when I went there to draw.

BUT I gathered some courage and decided to finish it for season 3. Wich I did, yay me, except it still does not look like the cool thing in my head and definitely does not reflect the time I spent on it, haha -- but at least it exists ?)

(Anyway, all this to say I’m EXCITED FOR TOMORROW \\O//) 

[hazel-writes]

Summary: You arrive on the Finalizer and are faced with a not-so-warm welcome.

Notes: Hey y’all! This fic was originally posted on AO3, so the pre-chapter notes here on Tumblr will be a bit different. Just a heads up, I am still in the process of re-working the first half of this fic so that it is up to par with the second half. The chapters get progressively longer and better as you go on, so hang in there!

Word Count: 1,700

Warnings: none :)

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Say, it's only a paper moon

Sailing over a cardboard sea

But it wouldn't be make-believe

If you believed in me

• It’s Only a Paper Moon ~ Ella Fitzgerald •

This couldn’t be the same sky I’ve looked up at all these years.

But you knew it was… and that terrified you.

Your footsteps were silent as you hesitantly made your way down the metal ramp of the small, gray shuttle that led the glistening black floors of one of the most feared ships in the galaxy: The Finalizer.

Massive windows revealed an endless expanse of space before you, and you couldn't help but stare in awe. It was strange seeing the sky like this — no sun or clouds present — all of the stars unobscured in an abyss of utter blackness. They always seemed two dimensional back on Lothal, thin as the parchment you used to sketch them on. The stars, planets, moons — they only existed on paper.

Until Now.

Here they were, spread across your vision, permeating your senses from all sides. You looked around to see if anyone else was having a similar reaction to the speckled darkness that surrounded you.

Nope, guess it’s just me then.

You shifted your focus down to your feet: your shoes, which were a natural earthy brown, stood out against the inky floor. The artificial lighting strained your eyes and you found yourself missing the natural sunlight that warmed your body back home. Here everything felt constricted, claustrophobic. And what bothered you the most was that everyone else seemed complacent, comfortable even, in the sterile box that was the Finalizer.

You finally forced yourself to focus back on the moment at hand. A uniformed woman approached you. She had a long, sculpted face with black hair pulled into a tight bun at the base of her neck.

“Welcome to the Finalizer,” she stated, with no inflection at all. “I will be showing you to your accommodation, where you will be further briefed on the terms and conditions of your stay here with the First Order.”

The way she said ‘terms and conditions’ made it seem like you were signing away something worth a whole lot more than just a temporary internship.

The woman, who you secretly nicknamed Ms. Stoney in reference to her cold, hard stare, led you down a series of hallways, each one identical in nature. You found yourself lost after the first few turns and made a mental note to pay more attention to the directions the woman was giving you.

Eventually, you found yourself in a hallway with six identical doors. Ms. Stoney pointed to the one on the right side at the very end of the hall.

“That is yours,” she solemnly directed. “You will find further instruction posted to the inside of your door. Until you are given orders to do so, don't travel about the ship, contact anyone outside of the ship, or speak to others without direct permission.”

Just then, a stromtrooper turned the corner to walk down the hallway you and Ms. Stoney were standing in. As he walked by, he nodded in acknowledgement.

"Hey!" you said, responding to the polite gesture eagerly; you were desperate for some normal human interaction.

Ms. Stoney whipped her head towards you in a piercing glare.

“Oh, sorry… I forgot.” You smiled sheepishly at her, bringing your shoulders up towards your ears. Back on Lothal, your father would always tell you how important first impressions were. You could almost hear him sigh from all the way across the galaxy.

The woman rolled her eyes with a huff. “Do you have any immediate questions?”

Finally, you thought. Your brain had been buzzing with questions ever since you arrived. Where would you be working? Who would you be working with? Why was it so kriffing cold on this ship? From the looks of it, the Order wasn't short on credits or resources, so you'd think they would be able to acquire a heating unit or two, right?

“Yes, actuall-” you started, eager to acquire some answers, but not before being interrupted again.

“Great, you can ask General Hux them when you meet him later this afternoon. I’m sure he will be happy to help." In the meantime, stay in your room. Your luggage will be brought in shortly.”

And with that, she spun on her heel, briskly walking away from you like a protocol droid, minus the good manners.

You stood there in silence and sighed. You were used to dealing with unfriendly people back home. Oftentimes your dad would have to accommodate for the occasional unfriendly customer at the shop where he sold his paintings and you would carefully watch how he handled each situation. He never raised his voice and always made sure to return a scowl with a smile. Not expecting such a response, the customer’s reaction was always the same: a flustered scoff and a frustrated beeline towards the nearest door. You adopted this method of effectively handling difficult people in your own life, this moment with Ms. Stoney included.

Who knew that a basic gesture of human kindness — one as simple as a smile — could have such a large impact?

Apparently not even you.

—————————————

You inhaled a deep breath and opened the door to your new room. It was small and cold. You didn’t mind the size; you were used to that back home. You did, however, mind the temperature, which made you to shiver and pull your sleeves over your hands. The black, windowless walls of the room made you feel even more claustrophobic than you were in the hangar. There were only a few items of furniture in the room: a surprisingly large bed, a sleek black desk, and an armchair that looked like the cause of some major future back pain.

You spotted two doors, one that led to a small refresher, and the other to a closet. Upon further inspection of the closet, you found it filled with pristine black and grey attire. A twinge of homesickness pierced your heart as you thought back to the light, comfortably rugged clothes you had grown accustomed to on Lothal.

Maybe this was a mistake…

You looked back at the entrance to your room before remembering what Ms. Stoney had told you: You will find further instruction posted to the inside of your door.

As you moved closer, you found two sheets of paper taped to the door. On one was a map of the Finalizer, and on the other was a list of the week’s “activities”. You looked closely at the rest of the schedule for the day and found three things written:

6:00 - Dinner is served in the cafeteria

7:30 - Collect ID from Block D Reception

8:30 - Meet with General Hux to receive further instruction regarding your internship

Items one and two on the list could be accomplished easily enough… But number three?

That made you nervous.

————————————

The hours passed too quickly and you found yourself staring, eyes full of dread, at a clock reading 8:15.

What was this meeting with General Hux about, anyways? I wasn’t prepared for this… not on my first day at least.

You thought back to when Ms. Stoney told you how happy General Hux would be to answer all your questions. There was something in her tone of voice that made it seem like he would be the exact opposite.

Oh well. You took a deep breath. I’ll do my best, try to act professional, and, if all else fails, simply try to smile in the face of terror.

You changed into a black turtleneck and gray trousers, tied your hair into a bun not nearly as tight as Ms. Stoney’s, and readjusted the braided bracelet on your wrist — a gift from your best friend, Cheyenne, who was back on Lothal.

With a deep sigh, shoulder roll, and a quick tip of your head, you walked out of your room and into the adjacent hallway. Studying the map that was provided to you, you began your trek to the General’s office.

As you navigated the seemingly endless hallways of the Finalizer, you passed a menagerie of stormtroopers, officers, and droids. The atmosphere was rigid and brisk — everyone seemed to have an urgent purpose, an important life-or-death matter to attend to.

It was a stark contrast to the slow, free-flowing lifestyle of Lothal; most people there recognized that with each new day came new challenges, making life unpredictable. But instead of responding to this uncertainty by attempting to control the uncontrollable, Lothalians tended to adapt, mold themselves to accommodate any given situation. They were humble this way.

And here, where change was seen as something that challenged the draconian stability of the First Order, you came to learn that the malleable lifestyle you grew so accustomed to on Lothal was considered the equivalent of a death sentence here on the Finalizer.

You re-emerged from your thoughts and found yourself nearing your destination. You rounded a corner, checking over the map you were provided with a furrowed brow.

As you attempted to concentrate on the various lines and names written on the small piece of paper, a strange feeling washed over you. It started as a small shiver, before turning into a slight prickle at the back of your neck. You swatted your hand behind you, thinking a small bug landed on you, only to remember that you were on a spaceship far above any planet where bugs would be located. You shook your head, trying to concentrate harder on deciphering the map, only to have the prickling become more intense, almost invasive.

Kriff, am I going insane?

The not-so-friendly tingle intensified enough that you decided to turn and face the invisible menace that seemed to creep its way up your spine. You moved so abruptly that a few passing stormtroopers tilted their heads towards you in curiosity.

Embarrassed at your moment of irritation and confusion, you averted your eyes and started to turn your head back in the other direction — but before you could, something caught your attention.

Or rather, someone.

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