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alyxovert · 2 years

Text

⊱┊dialogue : twdg - season 1

alamort (adj.) • half dead of exhaustion

change names/pronouns/tense as needed!

a new day

“regardless, could be you just married the wrong woman.”

“it goes to show, people will up and go mad when they believe their life is over.”

“well, do what you think you should.”

“frankly, i think it’s because he’s dumb as a bag of hammers… but he makes up for it with enthusiasm.”

“you two actually look relaxed.”

“people don’t want to die ignorant, i guess.”

“but at least you have the common sense to listen to a man giving you advice.”

“sorry? your son is alive. you don’t get to be sorry!”

“you’re gonna whoop me? you and what homo parade?”

“maybe you’re a murderer, but i don’t really care.”

“why don’t you want to talk about your family? do they like… hate you?”

“…you have a boyfriend?”

“there’s no happy ending to this.”

“you’re a good man.”

“god bless you.”

“i’m not letting somebody else get eaten today… especially not a good friend.”

“you like my daughter?” “her dad tried to kill me so…”

starved for help

“he was never going to survive.”

“god help us.”

“go ahead and run! we ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“jesus… there’s a kid mixed up in this?” “was, more like.”

“you’re not men, you’re monsters. all men are monsters.”

“take a can of beans, take a little girl. it’s all the fucking same to you.”

“i’m putting this arrow right through your BALLS.”

“jesus, man! i’m from florida! crazy shit just comes out of my mouth sometimes… sorry.”

“it’s always something with this guy.”

“you’re all sick… sick in the head!”

“what the fuck… the fucking… what fuck?!”

“i’ll kill you!”

“you’re not worth to energy to hate.”

“you’re already tainted.”

“who the fuck do you people think you are?!”

“it’s over!”

“they’re not coming.”

long road ahead

“we just lost everything.”

“get the fuck over it.”

“i’ll die out here!” “i don’t care.”

“i don’t have anything left.”

“dead get ‘em?” “no.” “ah, livin’ got ‘em.”

“he’s out of time.”

“wake the fuck up, man.”

“how the fuck do you calm down after a day like today?”

“you’ll fucking lose everything acting like this!”

“what a mess.”

“i could kill you!”

“i had to tell someone…”

“that’s what everybody says.”

“oh, so he gets to swear.”

“god, you’re a real son of a bitch, aren’t you?”

around every corner

“confidence is earned, ben.”

“we are fucked!”

“if now ain’t the time for a drink…”

“i’m not leaving you with ben, i’m leaving him with you.”

“have you lost your motherfucking mind?”

“he ain’t shit now.”

“i don’t owe you anything.”

“are we really gonna do this now?”

“this is all i have left of her.”

“shut the fuck up.”

“you little pissant! you’re fucking dead! you hear me? DEAD!”

“my wife?! and child?! YOU GOT THEM BOTH FUCKING KILLED!”

“you can whoop his skinny little ass later!”

“you know she thinks the world of you.”

“she’s my family now. she’s all i got.”

no time left

“please don’t hurt her.”

“you’re fucking dead! i don’t know who you are but i will kill you, do you understand?!”

“if i don’t live through this—”

“we thought maybe we lost you…”

“you lost some blood.”

“i think i just peed myself.”

“why the hell are we letting the one-armed guy do all the high risk maneuvers?” “cause the one-armed guy insists. now shut up about it.”

“i’m fucked.”

“i lived through it; which is a start.”

“this is not happening…”

“everything is so fucked…”

“stop pushing me around and stop wishing i was dead!”

“give me a fucking break!”

“kill anything that gets in.” “you know you’re talking to ME, right?”

“i’m sorry, okay? fuck, we can’t do this!”

“then kill me, you son of a bitch, okay?! don’t even fucking hesitate!”

“is this really possible?”

“i’m sorry.”

“i wasn’t going to hurt you.”

“judging by the decor of this room, i’d guess they were pbs watchers.”

“i could’ve done more.”

“i could’ve been a better husband… a better father… could’ve been a better friend.”

“me and my fuckin’ mouth…”

“it’s just something i gotta do. you know that.”

“have you ever hurt somebody you care about?”

“do i look like a monster to you?” “we all do.”

“i hate seeing you like this.”

“i just miss your smile, honey.”

“i thought you were gone.”

“they’re dead… they really are…”

“i’ll miss you.”

i know this game is ten years old but i just completed all of it for the first time a few days ago so… this is my way of celebrating. this is also my way of coping.

also, the game is over nine hours long, i just knew i could get hella dialogue starters from it… which i did! instead of my usual 25-30 starters, this has close to (if not over) 90!

the funniest part? considering i’m taking these word for word from the game and not thinking of these myself, you’d expect this to have taken a few minutes. this took me 6 hours. today was supposed to be my lazy day but woah.

[requests : temporarily closed]

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ackerslut · 3 years

Note

Since it’s pride month, the warp core 4 celebrating pride?

ao3

“Welcome to le home of sexual,” Beckett says, eyebrows bouncing up and down. She and her three best friends are standing out in 36° weather, appropriately sunscreened up for the occasion, watching Earth’s yearly Pride Festival get started. It’s a bit early in the day for Beckett’s tastes-the real fun starts at night with the bar crawling and fireworks-but everyone agreed that D’Vana deserved the full experience.

D’Vana is just as delighted as Beckett knew she would be. She squeals, jumping up and down in the balls of her feet excitedly as they weave through the busy crowd.

“I thought you said Earth sucks,” Brad points out, leaning on Beckett’s shoulder with one arm. Beckett swats him off impatiently.

“Earth sucks,” she sniffs, grabbing his sleeve and swerving quickly through the chaos. “Pride doesn't,” she finishes, flipping her rainbow themed shades on. “Now what's the plan, fellow homos?”

“Parade, funnel cakes, violence,” Sam replies, matching rainbow shades already donned. “Or we could do lunch, I'm not picky.”

“Look at the baby flags!” D’Vana wheezes. “Brad. Brad. I need one.”

Beckett cackles as D’Vana drags a disgruntled Brad toward the stand selling tiny pride flags. Brad’s honestly right, she's not one to put much stock in earth traditions, but D’Vana had been so excited about doing pride this year, she'd relented. It was fun to watch D’Vana freak out over innocuous things. Sort of like vicariously living through her excitement.

That, and Pride was pretty fun once you factored out the dead of June heat and the noisy crowds.

Sam shakes his head, probably reading Beckett’s thought process. “At least D’Vana is enjoying herself.”

Beckett loops her arm through his, grinning up at him. “And you’re not? C’mooon, I know you have a soft spot for parades.”

“Violence, I’m pretty sure I said I wanted violence.”

“You,” she begins to pull him toward the direction their friends scampered off in, “are the least violent person I’ve ever met, Samantha.”

“Lies. I’m edgy.”

“Stop.”

“I’m hip.”

“Stoooop,” Beckett moans, headbutting his shoulder. Sam dissolves into snickers.

“For you!” D’Vana shrieks, coming out of nowhere. She throws a flag that’s probably taller than Sam at Beckett’s face. It’s the official bisexual flag, pinks, purples and blues overlapping in a gradient rather than it’s usual stripes. Beckett lets out a whoop, wrapping it around her head and shoulders like a cloak.

“You look like a gremlin,” Brad says, doubling over with laughter. He has a flag of his own-purples, greys, black and white- but unlike her, he’s folding it up maliciously to store for later.

“Nooo, I’m a wizard. No, a bizard!” Beckett says, pulling the fabric further over her head.

“You’re gonna die of heat stroke is what you are.” Sam pulls at the flag until Beckett relents, folding it up and putting it in her backpack. D’Vana grins, throwing a flag at Sam, who grins back at her.

“Solidarity,” D’Vana says, holding up her matching tiny flags and huge ass flag up next to Sam’s.

“Same hat,” Sam agrees, hugging the trans flag to his chest. “Funnel cake?” he says, hopefully.

“Funnel cake!” Beckett yells, punching the air.

Brad sighs, looking far too overheated and sleep-deprived for any of this. “Okay, but I’m not holding your hair back again when you puke because you ate too much,” he huffs.

“It’s okay, Beck, I’ll hold your hair back,” D’Vana offers.

“Not the point!”

“Brad,” Sam throws an arm over the other guy’s shoulder, leaning in conspiratory. “Have you considered...violence?”

“Stop, stop stop-” Beckett covers his mouth with her hand. He, naturally, licks it, sending her into a shrieking fit.

“I’m just trying to live up to our brand, Beckett!”

“Violence isn’t part of your brand!” She wipes her hand off on Brad’s shirt. “You’re the nice one!”

“Hey, I’m the nice one,” D’Vana protests.

Brad snorts. “Nope.”

“Way off base,” Beckett agrees.

“Yeah, that’s-no.” Sam shakes his head.

D’Vana crosses her arms. “Whatever,” she mutters. They finally arrive at the funnel cake stand.

“How much funnel cake can you legally give us?” Beckett asks. Brad elbows her in the stomach.

“We’ll take four,” he intervenes, already pulling his wallet out. Beckett pouts at him, but a look from Sam keeps her from making a scene. Whatever, she can come back for seconds later.

“So, violence?” Sam says, after they’ve paid and are ambling from stand to stand.

“Stop trying to make that a thing. It’s not a thing, Sam.”

“Actually,” D’Vana says slowly. “We should make it a thing.”

“D’Vana-”

“No, no, hear me out, Beck. Consider,” she points to a display selling fireworks. “Have you ever wondered what would happen if you set those off in space.”

“Yeah nothing because fireworks aren’t reliant on oxygen,” Brad says. “They’d still work, but they’d fizzle out pretty quickly.”

“Okay, but, hear me out Brad. Not like in space, space, but like. In the Cerritos, space.”

“No,” Brad says immediately. “We’re not doing that.”

Sam and Beckett exchange a look.

“Hmm,” Beckett says, pretending to look thoughtful. “That’s an interesting hypothesis you’ve brought to our attention, D’Vana.”

“It’s not a hypothesis-”

“We’d have to test it, of course,” Sam adds on.

Brad groans, hands in his hair.

“Multiple times for us to get a reliable answer,” Beckett agrees.

D’Vana’s hands are already piled high with rainbow themed fireworks by the time Brad looks up again. His face goes through all seven stages of grief before settling on resignation. “I’m not paying for these.”

“I got it,” Sam says, grinning. Brad glares back.

“I’m not helping.”

“Yes you are,” the other three say.

Brad throws his hands up in the air. “Do any of my choices matter?”

Beckett throws an arm over his shoulder “Do you want the existential answer to that or-”

“Nevermind,” he sighs, accepting a handful of fireworks D’Vana dumps in his arms. “This is fine.”

“Alright, new plan! We stash the fireworks in my super secret contraband hideout, throw up Pride flags all over the ship, get back in time for the firework show here and then go to Dennys.”

“Who the fuck is Denn-”

“Oh my god, we can get grand slams, right?” Sam asks, like a true, cultured American. Beckett nods seriously.

“It is never too early for pancakes. Now. To the Cerritos!” She throws a fist up in the air. D’Vana echoes her sentiment, looping an arm through Brad’s and dragging him off to the transportation point. Sam follows, laughing maniacally.

Yeah, Beckett thinks. Out of all the weird things Earth celebrates, Pride is probably the most fun. She pulls out the giant bisexual flag again and ties it around her neck like a cape, running after her friends.

#beckett mariner #d'vana tendi #sam rutherford #brad boimler #star trek lower decks #star trek lower decks fanfic #star trek lower decks fanfiction #the warp core four #my fic

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