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galactic-pirates · 8 months

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I live blogged episode 3 of Ahsoka.

In which I am afraid despite my best of intentions I ranted a little bit. I am trying very hard to reserve judgement as I love these characters so much. My beloved Ghost crew! But there are things that are bugging me. I try and balance it with what made me laugh and what I loved because at the end of the day I do love Star Wars, probably why it infuriates me so much sometimes. I am invested and I want it to be amazing and I guess I don’t always vibe with choices that were made.

And I am very not vibing. I believe my exact expression was that I’m going to die mad about it. Reminds me of that Knives Out meme people did for Picard season 3 of “it makes no sense!” and then the movie quote followed with “compels me though” and for Picard season 3 it got changed to “and absolutely does not compel me” because well yeah. And I am feeling that a bit. Not to the same extent by any means. I am still feeling much more positive about Ahsoka show - at the moment at least. There is still plenty of time to disappoint me further.

So yes. My liveblog!

What even is this “Sabine is a padawan” plot? Searching for logic, can not find. I hate it, I really do. Sabine is a Mandalorian and that is enough, being herself is enough. The whole “your skill with a weapon comes from being Mandalorian and that isn’t enough” (aka tap into the force and be a Jedi) is just insulting. is it true that Jedi win against Mandalorians? Yeah. But Jedi power and skill can’t win everything either. I really thought that part of Rebels, and the Clone Wars to be honest, was showing that different warriors were stronger together. That there will be fights where they need each other, as one has strengths to compensate for the others weaknesses and vice versa.

Kanan said Sabine was very closed off to the force. Yes the force flows through all living things but for most they can’t touch it. If Sabine had that potential Kanan would have known and yes I am repeating this point because I am going to die mad about it. Why can’t they spar together as Jedi vs Mandalorian? Why can’t Sabine partner with Ahsoka on this mission without all the Padawan bullshit? If they do desperately wanted to show Ahsoka as a mentor then hello they do have a force sensitive/potential future Jedi around - Jacen Syndulla. I had hoped Ezra would come back to train him but if Ahsoka started him off that would have been cool too.

Just what is the point of trying to make Sabine a Jedi? And why is it taking up so much screentime? I’m crying. I just really don’t get why Ahsoka is pushing Sabine to use the force if she can’t. I know from the trailer Shin Hati says “you have no power”. I initially took so much comfort from that as I assumed the photos of Sabine with the lightsaber didn’t mean she was turned into a Jedi /sigh. But if Sabine really doesn’t have the force then really what is this Jedi bullshit? Jedi are not just lightsabers, the force is a whole thing. If she doesn’t have it then she can never be a Jedi!

The way Mon Mothma stayed silent and looked so uncomfortable during that confrontation. I get she has to juggle politics, and also Hera really did point out the ugly truth everyone was ignoring, but ugh. Reminds me of the Mandalorian episode where that rich guy was “empire? Republic? What’s the difference?” as he was in power no matter what. Also the whole head in the sand “we don’t want war”, like nobody does and sure people are tired but ignoring unpleasant reality just allows the bad guys to get ahead. The time to prepare is before it really gets bad. Very Neville Chamberlain of them. I wish Mon Mothma had spoken up, at least said something. It feels like she’s had to make too many compromises to be Chancellor and is a toothless tiger. I can’t help but think Bail Organa would have done better. He too would have stayed silent but it would have been a considered silence, and when he spoke there would have been conviction and it would have been persuasive not a milquetoast “we have to confer” aka they are going to walk all over me. But then as strong as Mon Mothma was, she was always hesitant. Her whole thing was “it’s too soon to unite, too soon to launch an offensive, I shouldn’t have acted/spoken” etc. and in Rogue One she was all “let’s wait”. Somebody else always has to force the issue.

Jacen!!!!! OMG yay. Gasps ahhhhhh he has green hair! So why is the Lego minifig wrong?!? That’s annoying. It’s darker green than Hera’s colouring sadly but it’s still green!! And he has a version of Kanan’s shoulder pauldron, and he wants to be a Jedi!!! THEN WHY IS SABINE DOING THE JEDI THING?!?!! Seriously so mad! I just don’t understand why Ahsoka even agreed to train Sabine as a padawan in the first place. It makes no sense. Like spar sure. Kanan trained Sabine for the darksaber a bit. Learning a weapon is not the same as a padawan/Jedi.

“I don’t need Sabine to be a Jedi. I need her to be herself” - then why are you pushing Jedi training?!?! 😭😭 seriously I am so mad about it. The funniest thing though when Sabine was trying to summon that cup and it didn’t move - I have done that! Seriously I do that all the time. Hold out my hand, will whatever to fly into it and of course it never so much as twitches. So in that I can relate, hilariously.

The space battle was fun. I am simple sometimes and I love how the ship spins. I would have thought Sabine wouldn’t have been so excited shooting ships down as she was in the gun on the Ghost a lot and TIE Fighters fell to those guns like rain. But hey maybe it’s been a while and adrenaline so it was cool. I laughed that Ahsoka’s space helmet had individual pockets for her montrals/lekku. It was fun her going out to defend the ship. I remember Kanan doing that a couple of times. Looks like Ahsoka’s suit was New Republic issue. I guess maybe they gave her the ship for Jedi work?

I gasped and screamed. Purrgil!!!! Oh they are definitely in the right place.

“We almost died multiple times” “ah yes standard operating procedure” and they shared smiles and I also laughed. That was a good moment.

Something I noticed today which I hadn’t last week was the theme. It feels similar in tempo/rhythm to the Mandalorian. I guess that makes sense thematically, as it ties in for the “New Republic” era and I think there’s going to be a ‘crossover’ movie eventually.

I am really not sold on this “other Galaxy” business. The unknown regions as they have been known or wild space, would have been enough. Thrawn novels established that hyperspace travel there is difficult. Really does feel like reinventing the wheel.

I am trying so hard to reserve judgement. I know I spent a lot of this liveblog ranting. Sabine as a Jedi IS super bugging me and I hate it. But also however good Sabine’s actress is I really wish this was animated. Hera is growing on me a little but Ahsoka? No I miss animated Ahsoka a lot. The characters being animated weren’t lesser in any way, that’s how I fell in love with them as characters. I couldn’t have had more feelings. Live action is cool but so is animation. Live action is not better. So yeah there’s that old itch of a resentment of “wish it had been animated” to go with my frustration on the story issues. But it’s episode 3 and there’s… how many episodes? Google says 8.

There are 8. That means we have had 3. Oh for the love of… I really really really hate it when shows do this. Star Trek Picard season 3 sucked in oh so many ways which included a structural pacing problem. They spent way too many episodes not really getting into the problem and then suddenly ahhh it was a rush rush jam-pack, no time to properly explain or develop anything, downward whoosh to the end. At 3/8 episodes we are approaching the midpoint but from a storytelling POV we are still in Act 1.

Right ok, reserving judgement. Let’s see the entire story first. These are my beloved Rebels characters. I adore them. Why have we not seen the Ghost yet? There should have been more Chopper. But hey! At least we saw Jacen and he has green hair. The Ghost is definitely something to look forward to seeing. Can we get a Rex cameo? Would love that.

#star wars: ahsoka #ahsoka spoilers

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the-firebird69 · 2 years

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There's a warning sign here that is laughing at stuff no they're bothering him and bothering him and bothering him and bothering him and they won't give it a rest it's like Non-Stop don't stop trying to rub in money Fame saying the successes and he's not at any expense wondering what the damn problem is he keeps on a Mac suck their Max they blow we suck and stuff then they want something that's some massive idiotic engrade it has no idea how things work in society then they try and cover it up by pretending their Asian or Latino and they're mean to him when they're in this other persona they've done it for years. People will help him get beat up people don't help him get beat up people go against and get beat up there's a pattern so we look out the window and some jackass cross the street messing around with this trash so remember this stupid trash outside it feels suck then we're going to prove it I'm going to make him pay for it too

I don't think any of you have an idea of what's going on here just people who you keep from having children you pop up as famous you say that they're different they might not be you don't really know they're human and they're genetically the same and they're considered to be clones by Max just like clones living the dregs consume them to be lower class I send things that they have a logical thought process as opposed to all the idiotic crazy morons that are running around us being nice and having no Acts then being repulsive and some sort of cycle it's about 20 or 30 seconds long and goes nowhere who's that paints them out in the society that doesn't bother identifying any8's

The condensation is massive then we find you worshiping them the ones you deject and reject and oppress let me hear you saying it's too juice you so the sun says I'm just new people for what you worth and it says wait a couple weeks and cuz we'll do some leaders too and what you're worth is food for Caju Sue says you sound like him I said he was a great man because he recognized that you people have less than they do always less much less I looked at my son and I said we know your dad loved you and Mom and your brother too Dave these people have that too let me hear you saying not a whole crap load of it it's absolutely true like talking to one of these robots granted they have their moments and some of them feel and take more than others but a lot of these people here are gone I don't know why we tested them we've looked at their brains their history someone tampered with them that changed too so sorry to get something he thinks you understand what it is now one of the kind of tampered with their brain and they're getting more and more mentally ill and their memories are getting messed up and it was by ghwb who had to stop you you gave no choice just like you did our son you told him the plan for him how it would go so he killed you more or less down you're an idiot can't do that to deadly people you don't respect anybody before they can make happen to you music you're no longer like a ruler so you start doing that before the surgery and he did because of Vietnam and your reaction and the guy couldn't handle it

He flipped out today I said cut him off of everything we should hit his stuff with big bombs he said cancel that then he said who's defending you said the whole world is cuz you're a moron you should kill yourself I'm sick of you I don't want to talk to you anymore you just big f**** follow me around just like this f****** homo go fix your brain sounds stupid but it doesn't matter it started before that George had no choice you're an a****** you went right up to the tiger started f****** around with it and then ate almost ate you I don't know why some say Vietnam I'd say if you push your woman hard enough they're going to push you right off the ledge so he ate that up right away and it's running around saying stupid s*** to her and she says you can't take it can you I said I don't have to it's over the top I told you you're wrong you're not our women and I told you were wrong and you're over the top it's ridiculous the stay puft marshmallow man's going to come down the road and it's in no way anime try another robot so she smiled and said I sort of get this so really it's what's happened so he started figuring it out and said it just sitting there doing nothing yeah they don't care about my charity event

Thor Freya

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exceptionally-minded · 2 years

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Do you happen to be neurodivergent? If so what kind of divergence do you've got? You are giving me the right vibes in that matter...

TL;DR: I cannot promise to write Tech that way, but I think you can absolutely interpret him as neurodivergent. 🙂

Anon, thank you so much for engaging with Tumblr Tech. I immensely appreciate your thoughtful question, but I hope you will forgive me for leaving it intentionally unanswered. My rationale is as follows:

1) I lack the expertise necessary to make this judgment: As neither a show writer/creator nor a licensed psychiatrist, I do not feel comfortable imposing my judgment upon a distinction that has shaped the lives of many.

2) Answering presents a double-edged sword: If I answer in the negative, I risk alienating people who are neurodivergent and connect with Tech because they strongly identify with this part of his character. If I answer in the affirmative, I risk casting Tech as an unfair example with which people should compare themselves.

I agree completely that Tech "gives the right vibes" in this regard - it is all but confirmed outright. Nevertheless, it is intentionally left it to the viewer's interpretation. At any rate, because I have never been diagnosed as neurodivergent, I cannot promise to be capable of writing a character who is.

For example, I struggle to manifest a Tech personality as characterized by "That's fine, but [if you fall] don't take me with you" from TCW 7.3. Tech must be cognizant of Wrecker's oft-mentioned acrophobia, which would make his response appear more cruel even than anything even Crosshair said in TCW... That is, UNLESS it is interpreted under the lens of Tech genuinely lacking understanding of words and their impact on people, and instead simply stating the logical fact that losing two clones is worse than losing one, which is true.

On the other hand, I identify perfectly with Tech's personality as characterized by his (and Echo's) frustration in the background of TBB 1.9, after Wrecker says "We're coming for ya, kid!" In emergency moments such as that, in which the Batch has precious few seconds of contact with Omega, I would also be laser-focused on utilizing them in the most efficient way possible, and irked beyond belief by someone wasting that time with meaningless promises or platitudes. Probably because I'm so anxious on a regular basis, when the worst case scenario does occur I become glacially calm and retreat to a sort of "mind palace" mode of the various options available, analyze to select the best one, and proceed accordingly. Of course, this modus operandi completely ignores the possibility that (returning to our example from 1.9) Wrecker's positive encouragement WAS what Omega needed in that moment, because she herself is capable without Tech's instructions... wow breaking news, I'm overanalyzing something again, I'll shut up now -

Thank you again for engaging with my content, and I can only hope that if you did approach the ask box from the perspective of someone who is NDV and identifies with Tech in that manner, that you feel seen and loved here in the way that you so richly deserve. ♥

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midnightactual · 3 years

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Soul Physics

Here’s how I think soul stuff in Bleach works. First, some things which we already know for sure, so that everybody is on the same page:

Reimyaku (霊脈, Spiritual Pulse): a latent energy field filling each dimension (the Living World, Soul Society, Hueco Mundo, Hell, and the Soul King’s Palace) from which power can be drawn, such as forKidō

Reiryoku (霊力, Spiritual Power): the energy of each individual spiritual entity, from which they draw power for their abilities; since technically everything has a spirit, everything has reiryoku

Reiatsu (霊圧, Spiritual Pressure): the force or pressure created by reiryoku on the surrounding environment; reiryoku and reiatsu are not at all necessarily correlated in strength; since technically everything has a spirit, everything has reiatsu

Reishi (霊子, Spirit Particles): the stuff that makes up spiritual entities; since technically everything has a spirit, everything has reishi; since kishi (atomic matter) can be directly converted into reishi, and there are reishi equivalents of kishi (like nitrogen and oxygen in the atmosphere of the Soul King’s Palace) and we know that reishi can be manipulated as a substance (by Askin), we know that reishi is really just kishi at a higher energy state and it is not fundamentally different in composition or behavior—it might (or might not) perhaps be thought of as more “soulful” matter which has been imbued with reiatsu, which is a thing we know can happen because...

Reii (霊威, Spiritual Authority): a ratio of reiatsu to reishi within a spiritual entity, this measures how much reiatsu has “saturated” a given quantity of reishi (like that composing the body of an individual); if the reii ratio is sufficiently high (that is to say, the grade is sufficiently strong) then reiatsu cannot escape the reishi and be redistributed

Alright, so check it out. Without delving too deep into real physics, the actual universe is permeated by fields which promulgate each of the four fundamental forces (gravity, electromagnetism, the weak nuclear force, and the strong nuclear force) through the use of force carrier particles. (Or, at least, this is how we currently conceive of it given our theories of physics like quantum mechanics.)

For example, there is one electromagnetic field, which is locally altered by various objects, the influence of which is conveyed through the force carrier particle of the photon—light. Likewise, there is one gravitational field, which is locally altered by various objects (masses), the influence of which are conveyed through the force carrier particle of the hypothetical graviton, with those local alterations (curvature of spacetime) being what we perceive as gravity.

You with me?

Reimyaku is the field. Reiatsu is the curvature of the field. Reiryoku is the object creating the curvature. Reishi is the stuff making up the object. Reii is a measurement of actual curvature. You should think of it all as the expression of a fifth fundamental force.

It’s that simple. (Although things are somewhat complicated by the fact that individuals can consciously adjust their reiatsu, whereas say, a planet cannot adjust its gravity.)

When we say that people with sufficient reiryoku have a strong reii, we’re really saying that the curvature they impose upon the reimyaku field is sufficiently such that reiatsu can no longer escape their reishi. This is fairly akin to saying that the gravitational curvature of a black hole is so extreme, because so much mass is concentrated into such a small space, that light can no longer escape it and it is a singularity in spacetime.

High-powered individuals in Bleach’s universe are singularities in the reimyaku field. They have basically “imprinted” or “impressed” their “essence” into the fabric of that fifth fundamental force—it cannot tear them apart and redistribute them as it can weaker souls. (Unless there is some spiritual equivalent of Hawking radiation, but let’s not get into that.) This imprint is such that although these individuals may be physically destroyed, their “essence”—their memories, their personality, their soul—is encoded into the fabric of the universe itself and can be retrieved at an arbitrarily later time.

Any such reconstruction is not a “clone”, it is merely a rematerialization of the essence which is now permanently there. The containment of that imprint is basically the point of Hell. That imprint is like a “save-state” of the person in question, and it has to be moved over to a particular “folder” so as to not cause problems.

Weaker souls, ones with weaker reii, are not like this: they can be torn apart. Think of a gravitationally bound object like a star or planet being shredded by a more massive object, and being turned into debris or gas. That’s what happens to weaker souls. Another way of envisioning it is that when a weak soul is sufficiently disrupted (as say through Hollowfication) the reimyaku field rushes in and the soul implodes or explodes into undifferentiated goo. Think of it as like the ocean crushing a submarine that has lost containment, or perhaps the contents of a spacecraft exploding out into space; it doesn’t really matter which it is, it’s just an analogy. This redistribution is the reincarnation cycle.

(It’s worth noting here that the Soul King’s Palace is probably unique, since one can physically go there from Soul Society and go back without real dimensional travel. [Consider Aizen suggesting “shooting down” the Palace.] It’s probably a sort of pocket dimension, much like Kisuke’s second study room under the Shōten likely is [but the first under Sōkyoku Hill isn’t]. Zero Division are automatically “save-stated” and “restored” within the confines of this particular “folder”, which seems to be why it exists at all.)

Anyway, this is a pretty coherent and sensible description of how all this stuff works—it’s rather consistent with a (pop-culture) understanding of actual physics, and in terms of how its interactions are presented with respect to ordinary, every-day, actual physical reality. It follows the same outline scientifically, as it were.

This is why most of the characters “in the know” within Bleach (like Kisuke, Szayelaporro, Mayuri, and Aizen) adopt a scientific outlook toward spiritual matters: they are a matter which science can fairly readily describe, even if certain aspects of them are mysterious or logically nonsensical. The overall architecture of the system is coherent and easily understood.

#Out Of Character #Bleach #Meta #[ these are really gross oversimplifications ]#[ of what quantum physics actually says ]#[ and I'm not a physicist ]#[ but for a shounen I think its fine to boil it down to this extent ]#[ Kubo seems to be ]#[ at least scientifically aware ]#[ given Gin's use of Mach numbers ]#[ and Rukia's invocation of absolute zero ]#[ so this shouldn't be too surprising ]#[ the biggest mystery in this system is ]#[ why is reishi... reishi... and not kishi ]#[ like what turns kishi into reishi? ]

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imagineyourworld · 3 years

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Hi! Would you do e. “Please don’t tell me that’s what I think it is.” With the pronouns she/her for obi wan? Thank you so much (sorry for having to resend, I misread it the first time) 💓

Hi,

No problem at all! Thanks for the request, it seems perfect for Obi-Wan (the poor man just needs a break, doesn't he?)

Hope you'll enjoy.

Love, Charlie

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Obi-Wan Kenobi x Fem!Reader

Warnings:

e. "Please don't tell me that's what I think it is."

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The thought that this might be a bad idea never even crossed your mind. All you could think of were three pairs of eyes staring up at you, asking you not to tell anyone and to keep the secret. But the logical part of your brain somewhat won over. "Guys, you can't keep a tooka in a supply closet." Those were the first words that left your mouth, and the ones that lead you down this road. Waxer and Boil let out a sigh of relief. They then hurried to make you promise not to tell anyone and reassured you that they would tell Cody when the timing was right. "You know what, I don't really think the timing will be right any time soon. Cody's busy and stressed at the moment, if we make him take care of one more living thing I'm quite sure he'll explode or faint and the med bay is quite full as it is. I'll take it to my room instead and keep it safe." The two clones looked at each other, then down at the tooka in Boil's lap before turning back to you. "You're not gonna tell the General?" Now that was a tough question. You and Obi-Wan were... close. He often came by your quarters in the evening to talk, had done so ever since you joined the 212nd as a civilian medic, though recently you had done a bit more kissing and a bit less talking. Maybe you could manage to keep the talking to a minimum and the kissing to a maximum. You nodded while asking a follow up question at the same time. "What are you gonna do with it once we land on Coruscant?" Waxer shrugged, the expression on his face telling you that they hadn't thought that far ahead yet. "We might give her to Senator Organa. When we escorted him a couple of weeks ago he mentioned wanting a daughter and-" You interrupted him before he could even finish his sentence. "I don't think he was referring to tooka, but rather a human." The tooka in Boil’s lap made a sound that almost sounded offended. You sighed as you bent down to pet the small animal, while the two clones glanced at each other with matching grins on their faces. Maybe you were right about Senator Organa, but the way you treated the tooka with such affection and the feline in return jumped from Boil’s lap to sit down on top of your feet gave them a new idea. “You know, a supply closet might really not be the best place for a tooka”, Waxer started, referring back to your earlier statement. “Maybe she’d be more comfortable in your room, it’s bigger at least.” He didn’t even need to ask directly, the thought of taking her back to your room, at least until you could find a permanent home, had crossed your mind as well. “Alright”, you sighed, trying to keep up a reluctant act.

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At first having the little tooka in your room wasn’t so bad. She slept in the little nest of pillows and blankets you had made for her while you finished your reports, but after she woke up the chaos began. “No, no, no. Get away from there, that’s”, you started, trying to chase her away from her spot on your nightstand where her paw was just centimeters away from the glass of water you kept there. “- breakable...” In tone with your last word she pushed the full glass down, making it break upon contact with the floor and water flooding the room. “You really are a lot of trouble, aren’t you? And you never listen, kinda reminds me of someone...”, you mumbled more to yourself than to the tooka as you began mopping the floor with the nearest available item, which happened to be a sock from your laundry basket. “Don’t we have cleaning droids for that?”, a voice interrupted you. You sat up immediately, barely avoiding your forehead hitting the night stand. Obi-Wan had shown up in your room, as he did most nights. His robes were casually thrown across his arm while he looked at you with amusement in his eyes. The instant you heard his voice you remembered your promise to Waxer and Boil, but that had been before you had agreed to take the tooka back to your room, and way before you had found out how much of a trouble maker she actually was. Just a second later it turned out that you didn’t have to say anything, about why you were drying water off your floor and how it had gotten there, because the feline jumped out of her nest and headed straight for Obi-Wan. “Please don’t tell me that’s what I think it is”, the Jedi sighed. He tried his best to put on a stern expression, but as soon as he looked at the small tooka you could see affection in his eyes. “You weren’t supposed to see her”, you mumbled in reply, because even though you knew Obi-Wan didn’t have the heart to throw the tooka out you also knew that he would insist that a spaceship was no place to keep a pet. As he picked up the small animal and she got settled in his arms he raised an eyebrow at you. “I wasn’t supposed to see her? How long did you think you could keep this a secret?” You shrugged. Realistically you should have known it would come out sooner rather than later, but if Waxer and Boil had managed to keep her in a small supply closet anyone could walk into at any given moment for who knew how long, you should have been able to hide the tooka in your room until you reached Coruscant. “A couple more days, maybe a week.” Obi-Wan sighed as he sat down on your bed, the tooka still in his arms, He looked at her with the same expression he often had when looking at Anakin or Ahsoka, something you knew was love and the desire to protect those he loved. “Or maybe she could stay here”, you said, more to yourself than to Obi-Wan. His attention shifted from the tooka to you as you sat down next to him and began to pet the feline that was beginning to fall asleep again. “You’ve mentioned that you might want to take on another Padawan, how different could a tooka really be?” Obi-Wan looked from the tooka to you and back again. He had began to talk about getting another Padawan recently and he had to admit that he longer he held the feline in his arms the fonder he grew of her. “But a tooka is nothing like a Padawan”, he argued. You raised your eyebrow at him, a gesture Obi-Wan loved when it was directed at someone else, because it usually meant you would destroy them in an argument, but hated in that moment. “A tooka, especially this tooka, is no different than your former Padawan, or his Padawan for that matter. She probably listens to you as good as Anakin, gets into as much trouble as him as well, and she’s just as understanding and snippy as Ahsoka. We could even name her Padawan!” It was the last sentence that caught Obi-Wan’s attention. We. You had never used that word before, at least not when referring to the two of you. Did that mean you wanted there to be a we? “We could take shifts in caring for her, and I’m sure most of the clones would help as well. She’d have a good life with us.” You could see that Obi-Wan was still a bit unsure, so you decided to use your charm to your advantage. “Please, think about it”, you whispered as you leaned closer. So close that your lips were touching his, just a soft and gentle touch, but it made Obi-Wan want more. “Visiting Padawan would even give you a reason to continue to come to my room late at night”, you said, now pressing a soft kiss against his lips before you continued down to his jaw and then his neck, peppering kisses on every inch of skin you could reach. “Fine”, he sighed just as your lips met the sweet spot beneath his ear. He could feel your bright smile against his skin, which instantly made him realize that he had made the right decision. “But we’re not naming her Padawan”, he tried to reason with you. But you just shrugged, that was an argument for another day.

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“We’re keeping the tooka”, Boil, a few rooms over, told Waxer. His brother looked at him, confusion written clearly on his face. “What makes you say that?” Boil, with a shit eating grin, sat down next to him on his bed before confessing that he had been listening to the conversation between you and Obi-Wan. “How did you even know the General would visit her room tonight?”, Waxer asked. Boil just shrugged. “He’s in there every night. But what’s more important, we’re keeping the tooka. (Y/N) even gave her a name, she’s called Padawan.” Before Waxer could voice his excitement another voice interrupted their conversation. “What tooka?”, Cody asked, arms crossed across his chest. Waxer and Boil looked at each other. Now that General Kenobi knew, surely they could tell Cody as well, right? “What tooka?”, he repeated, suddenly less sure he even wanted to know the answer to his question. But before he got an answer Padawan ran into the room and stopped right in front of Cody with a small “meow”. Apparently you and Obi-Wan had been a bit too busy with each other to notice her escaping your room.

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I don’t know why, but this request just screams for a small animal to be included. And can you imagine Obi-Wan with a cat??

#Obi-wan Kenobi X Reader #obi-wan X reader #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi #obi wan imagine #obi-wan kenobi x you #obi-wan kenobi x y/n

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plasticnightmaredoll · 3 years

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I’m still working on the NSFW Alphabet for Enigma/Edward Nashton/Riddler-Before-He-Was-Riddler from “Arkham Origins,” and it’s going to take some time because of my work schedule being the PITA that it is...

However, I do have some snippets of an Arkham Knight!Riddler x female!Reader fic I’ve been working on here and there over the last few weeks.

Now, these are not beta-read, so there may be some mistakes, and some things might change or be added or rearranged, etc. when I do get around to proof-reading the complete fic, but the basic idea of each snippet won’t change from here on to the finished product.

The general concept behind this fic is what would it take for AK!Riddler to, well, get his shit together? We all know how he started out as a snack -- or more accurately, a damn MEAL:

then became a...well, a hot mess (still adorable, though):

Possibly having someone in his life who actually appreciates him and shows him some affection could get him to clean himself up? Because we all know this boy is most likely touch-starved and would probably cry if someone was actually sweet to him, and he’d probably do whatever he could to be as presentable as possible to keep them around -- anything to keep them from vanishing from his life and leaving him all alone and unwanted again.

Anyway, here are the three (non-beta’d!) snippets from the fic:

Snippet 1:

Initially, Edward told himself it was for his own good. He was Gotham’s one true genius so why shouldn’t he take better care of himself? Cloning was not possible, nor was there any way to transfer the human consciousness into a machine. All of this meant there was only ONE Edward Nigma, and he deserved to look and feel his absolute best.

Besides, he thought it was yet another way to one-up anyone who opposed him. Yes, of course he could look just as put together as anyone else -- or better. He was superior in every possible way after all.

It had all started with a comment from Selina as she was leaving to take care of the job Edward had assigned to her.

“You know, Eddie,” she said, turning to look at him over her shoulder. “Ladies like men who don’t smell like a car repair shop.”

With that, she was gone and Edward was, at first, not even registering what she had said to him. But it did creep into his thoughts faster than he would have liked, and he analyzed every piece of it. Why would Selina say such a thing? Then again, most people said pointless -- or more accurately, stupid -- things. Normally, he would have disregarded and forgot about it as he went about his work, but it nagged at him like a mathematical equation without a proper solution.

Taking a break from working on some new Riddlerbots, Edward went to the bathroom to locate anything he had on hand to take care of the headache he was currently dealing with. He found a bottle of Aspirin in the medicine cabinet, but when he closed the door, he stared at his reflection for a moment (When was the last time he’d given himself a proper glance in a mirror?)

As Edward took the Aspirin, he remembered Y/N was coming to see him that day -- soon, actually. Perhaps a shower would be a good idea? She would probably appreciate it if he didn’t smell like a car repair shop. And he probably would feel better being clean. Could help him think a little more clearly.

As he showered, Edward told himself this was primarily for his benefit and he wasn’t trying to impress Y/N -- or anyone for that matter. Deep down, though, he knew this was part of something he didn’t quite understand, something dealing with Y/N, something he hadn’t experienced before. That part of him was too afraid at that time to come forth and propose an answer to this dilemma. This was unfamiliar territory, something that wasn’t logical or scientific but emotional and...no, that “strange” part of him needed to stay quiet if he wanted to keep his thoughts together.

This was nothing. Nothing was going on. Everything was normal. And no, Edward didn’t feel relieved when Y/N complimented him on his appearance upon arriving. Taking a shower and putting on nice, clean clothes had nothing to do with gaining her approval. He did it for himself, to give himself a “refresh” before getting back to work. He wasn’t aiming to please or impress anyone, remember? Not even Y/N.

Especially not Y/N.

Or so he thought.

Snippet 2:

Something was different when Edward put someone else before anything of his, namely his work. Had it been anyone else, he’d have tossed a bunch of insults and told them never to bother helping him again.

However, with Y/N, it was completely different -- and he didn’t even realize it at first.

She was carrying a box of mechanical parts to bring to Edward to aid in constructing new robots, and he had warned her to be careful, to not overload the box or it would be too heavy for her. While carrying the box of gears, wires, and metal bits, she tripped over her own feet and fell forward. The box toppled over onto the floor, spilling the contents everywhere, and she collapsed on her left forearm and knee.

“I told you to be careful!” Edward growled as he rushed over.

“I’m sorry!” Y/N said, pushing herself up and looking at the mess. “I don’t think I broke anything--”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

Y/N fully expected Edward to examine the scattered parts to see if they had sustained any damage but he went right by them. Kneeling down beside her, he gently took her left arm and briefly studied the scratched skin.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” Edward said as he carefully felt her forearm and elbow. “And your knee….”

“I think it’s ok,” Y/N said as she moved to sit. “It hurts, though.”

Edward placard his hands on Y/N’s left knee, feeling around and noting how she winced several times.

“Not broken,” he said. “But most certainly will be sore and bruised for a while. Here…let’s get you up.”

Edward let Y/N put an arm around him to steady her as he helped her to stand. Of course, her left knee ached far too much for her to walk on her own, so he continued to guide her to the bathroom.

“I’m sorry about the stuff,” Y/N said, looking and sounding as guilty as she felt.

“Don’t worry about it,” Edward said absent-mindedly as he located some clean bandages and antiseptic cream. “Most of it probably won’t even be needed for what I’m doing now, and I can always acquire more. In fact...I have more in storage.”

Edward turned on the faucet and tested the water until it was comfortably warm, then he gingerly took Y/N’s left arm and began cleaning it with soap. It stung a little but she tolerated it, studying his highly focused expression and wondering if this was even happening? He truly wasn’t upset that she dropped the box of bits and pieces? She just couldn’t wrap her head around it, and doubted that anyone would believe her without proof.

Edward dried Y/N’s arm with a clean towel before tossing it in the trash. After applying some antiseptic cream to a strip of bandage, he proceeded to wrap it around her arm, covering the wound.

“There…” Edward said, admiring his handiwork. “How does that feel?

“Good,” Y/N said.

“Now for your, uh, knee.” Edward swallowed, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “It...doesn’t appear to be bleeding so...I think we can just put, um, ice on it. Unless you think it needs to be looked at?”

“No, I think it’s fine. Ice is fine. Thank you.”

Edward nodded before clearing his throat and reaching out to Y/N.

“Come,” he said. “Let me help you to the couch.”

Snippet 3:

“Ok, who are you and what did you do with Eddie?” asked Selina as she looked Edward over incredulously.

It appeared that Edward finally got his shit together and was taking care of himself. Not only was he free of grime and grease, he was dressed in rather impressive attire: black dress shirt, green gloves, green trousers, and dark brown boots. Even his hair was cut and styled differently as it was shorter with subtle layering, the offset part causing bangs to fall over most of his forehead and just above his brows.

Another noteworthy change was Edward’s weight. Instead of surviving on snacks and coffee, he must have been eating actual food again as he was no longer skin and bones. Actually, he looked a little bit...toned? Was he back to his old routine of perfectly planned, ultra-healthy, balanced meals coupled with a decent amount of exercise? Selina remembered he used to get up early in the and exercise almost right away most days of the week. It helped him “get focused” before even having coffee, he had said.

“What are you going on about?” Edward asked in an agitated tone. “Nevermind. It’s nonsense anyway.”

“Personality is still the same,” Selina muttered as she followed Edward to a workbench.

Once he was done explaining in excessive, almost condescending detail the particulars of the items she needed to steal for him, she decided to ask some questions.

“So, tell me, Eddie,” Selina began, turning to him. “What inspired you to finally start looking like a professional criminal mastermind as opposed to an overworked grease monkey?”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Edward said, before clearing his throat and straightening, a smug smile on his face. “I came to the long overdue conclusion that, as Gotham’s one true genius and Batman’s superior, I should look after myself and be presentable. What’s on the outside should reflect what’s going on inside, so to speak. I mean, what a waste of a brilliant mind such as mine to live in a body akin to a starving, filthy rat scurrying about in the sewers?”

“So you are basically telling me you did this for yourself,” Selina said resisting the urge to roll her eyes at Edward’s narcissistic ramblings. “Are you sure you didn’t do this for any other reason?”

“Like what?” Edward asked, clearly puzzled by such a question.

“Hmm...well, let me ask this: Has Y/N seen your ‘transformed’ self?”

Selina noted how Edward’s blue eyes lit up upon hearing Y/N’s name, and suddenly, his obnoxious personality changed to a much more amiable one.

“She likes it,” Edward said with a bright smile. “Her compliments about my appearance go hand in hand with her compliments about my genius. It’s wonderful having someone around who actually appreciates my existence.”

“I take it that her approval means a lot to you then?”

“Of course! Considering she’s the only person who treats me with respect, I think she deserves the privilege of having me listen to, accept, and sometimes take her advice.”

Selina smirked as she had received the answer to her question.

“Well then, I must be going, Eddie,” she said as she turned to leave. “I’ll get you what you requested in no time.”

“Yes, please do,” Edward said sternly, going back to his arrogant tone. “My request should be of the utmost importance compared to whoever else you’re working with at the moment.”

“Yes, yes, Eddie, of course. Bye!”

#edward nigma #riddler #riddler x reader #edward nigma x reader #riddler x female reader #edward nigma x female reader #the riddler #edward nygma #arkham riddler #arkham knight riddler

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maandarinee · 3 years

Note

what are all the podcasts you listen to?

anon I'm so glad you asked

Since it is a pretty long list including synopses (stolen from the podcast feed or website because I'm Bad at summaries and in some cases it's been a while since I listened) I'm going to put it under a cut.

I've separated the list into "Complete" (either finished or cancelled) and "Ongoing" podcasts. Some have additional comments by me. Current favorites are marked orange. My eternal beloved are Our Fair City and Wolf 359.

Complete

ars PARADOXICA: "When an experiment in a time much like our own goes horribly awry, Dr. Sally Grissom finds herself stranded in the past and entrenched in the activities of a clandestine branch of the US government. Grissom and her team quickly learn that there's no safety net when toying with the fundamental logic of the universe."

Blackwood: "Five years ago, Molly Weaver, Bryan Anderson, and Nathan Howell started a podcast focused on the local legend of a monster called The Blackwood Bugman. Quickly, the investigation grew out of their control, as they discovered that, not only are the legends seemingly true, many people in Blackwood have turned up dead or disappeared without a trace." --> [this feels like the Blair With Project, but as a podcast. Didn't get a second season due to no funding, but it works as a standalone]

Dreamboy: "Dane, a spun-out musician spending the winter in Cleveland, Ohio, has two main goals: keeping his job at the Pepper Heights Zoo and trying not to waste all his time on Grindr. What he doesn��t expect is to get swept into a story about dreams, about forevers, about flickering lights, about unexplained deaths, about relentless change, and about the parts of ourselves that we wish other people knew to look for. Oh, and also a murderous zebra." --> [very NSFW; does cool things with music! Didn't get a second season due to no funding, but it works as a standalone]

King Fall AM: "...centers on a lonely little mountain town's late-night AM talk radio show and its paranormal, peculiar happenings and inhabitants." --> [cancelled after 100 episodes, ends on a huge cliffhanger]

Our Fair City: "A campy, post-apocalyptic audio drama." --> [I know the description sounds like nothing but just trust me, I love it so much]

Steal the Stars: "...is a gripping noir science fiction thriller in 14 episodes: Forbidden love, a crashed UFO, an alien body, and an impossible heist unlike any ever attempted."

Stellar Firma: "...a weekly Science Fiction, Comedy podcast following the misadventures of Stellar Firma Ltd.'s highest born but lowest achieving planetary designer Trexel Geistman and his bewildered clone assistant David 7. Join them each episode as they attempt to take listener submissions and craft them into the galaxy's most luxurious, most expensive and most questionably designed bespoke planets. However, with Trexel's corporate shark of a line manager Hartro Piltz breathing down their necks and I.M.O.G.E.N., the station's omnipresent and omniinvasive stationwide A.I. monitoring those necks to within 3 decimal places, they'll be lucky to make it a week before being slurried and recycled into raw human resources." --> [semi-improvised, I thought I'd have a problem with the improv bit because that's not usually my thing, but no, I absolutely devoured this]

TANIS: "...is a serialized docudrama about a fascinating and surprising mystery: the myth of Tanis. Tanis is an exploration of the nature of truth, conspiracy, and information. Tanis is what happens when the lines of science and fiction start to blur." [+ spinoff The Last Movie] --> [I have no clue what the hell is going on here]

The Black Tapes: "...is a serialized docudrama about one journalist's searc for truth, her enigmatic subject's mysterious past, and the literal and figurative ghosts that haunt them both."

The Magnus Archives: "...is a weekly horror fiction anthology podcast examining what lurks in the archives of the Magnus Institute, an organisation dedicated to researching the esoteric and the weird. Join new head archivist Jonathan Sims as he attempts to bring a seemingly neglected collection of supernatural statements up to date, converting them to audio and supplementing them with follow-up work from his small but dedicated team. Individually, they are unsettling. Together they begin to form a picture that is truly horrifying because as they look into the depths of the archives, something starts to look back…"

Time:Bombs: "...a new audio drama podcast about the hilarious world of bomb disposal. Ride along with EOD technician Simon Teller on the busiest night of the year for him and his team - when business is, quite literally, booming."

Wolf 359: "Life's not easy for Doug Eiffel, the communications officer for the U.S.S. Hephaestus Research Station, currently on Day 448 of its orbit around red dwarf star Wolf 359. He's stuck on a scientific survey mission of indeterminate length, 7.8 light years from Earth. His only company on board the station are stern mission chief Minkowski, insane science officer Hilbert, and Hephaestus Station's sentient, often malfunctioning operating system Hera. He doesn't have much to do for his job other than monitoring static and intercepting the occasional decades-old radio broadcast from Earth, so he spends most of his time creating extensive audio logs about the ordinary, day-to-day happenings within the station. But the Hephaestus is an odd place, and life in extremely isolated, zero gravity conditions has a way of doing funny things to people's minds. Even the simplest of tasks can turn into a gargantuan struggle, and the most ordinary-seeming things have a way of turning into anything but that." --> [starts funny, turns very intense]

Ongoing

Alba Salix, Roya Physician (+ The Axe & Crown): "A witch, her apprentice, and her fairy herbalist treat the ills of a fairy-tale kingdom." + "Gubbin the troll tavernkeeper deals with his clueless new landlord, his shady niece, and some new competition."

Archive 81: "A found footage horror podcast about ritual, stories, and sound."

Arden: "A (fictional) true crime podcast about cold cases and the reporter and detective who try to solve them."

Brimstone Valley Mall: "The year is 1999. Lurking somewhere between Hot Topic and the food court, five misfit demons from Hell kill time inciting sin in a suburban shopping mall. When the lead singer of their band goes mysteriously missing, the demons only have two weeks to find him before they play the biggest gig of the millennium - or face the wrath of Satan herself."

CARAVAN: "First rule of Wound Canyon: No one who gets in, ever gets out. So when a brilliant, ghostly specter flies through the sky amid the rain and lightning, Samir stumbles off a steep cliff and into a hidden world, one in which demons, vampires, and all other manner of paranormal creatures take sanctuary." --> [also pretty NSFW and horny in general]

Death by Dying: "The Obituary Writer of Crestfall, Idaho finds himself deeply in over his head as he investigates a series of strange and mysterious deaths… when he is supposed to simply be writing obituaries. Along the way he encounters murderous farmers, man-eating cats, haunted bicycles, and a healthy dose of ominous shadows." --> [I had to stop listening to this in public because it kept making me undignified laugh and snort noises]

Desperado: "Blood magic, Voodoo magic, old gods, new gods: We've got it all! Follow the story of misfits from all over the world, as they try to survive and protect their heritage from modern-day crusaders."

EOS 10: "Doctors in space, a deposed alien prince, a super gay space pirate and a fiery nurse who'll help you win your bar fight."

Girl In Space: "Abandoned on a dying ship in the farthest reaches of known space, a young scientist fights for survival (and patience with the on-board A.I.). Who is she? No one knows. But a lot of dangerous entities really want to find out. Listen as the story unfolds for science, guns, trust, anti-matter, truth, beauty, inner turmoil, and delicious cheeses. It’s all here. In space."

Janus Descending: "...follows the arrival of two xenoarcheologists on a small world orbiting a binary star. But what starts off as an expedition to survey the planet and the remains of a lost alien civilization, turns into a monstrous game of cat and mouse, as the two scientists are left to face the creatures that killed the planet in the first place. Told from two alternating perspectives, Janus Descending is an experience of crossing timelines, as one character describes the nightmare from end to beginning, and the other, from beginning to the end." --> [absolutely harrowing horror]

Love and Luck: "...is a fictional radio play podcast, told via voicemails and set in present day Melbourne, Australia. A slice of life queer romance story with a touch of magic, it follows the relationship between two men, Jason and Kane, as their love grows both for each other and their community." --> [soft and gay, feels like a warm hug]

Potterless: "Join Mike Schubert, a grown man reading the Harry Potter series for the first time, as he sits down with HP fanatics to poke fun at plot holes, make painfully incorrect predictions, and bask in the sassiness of the characters." --> [the only non-fiction podcast on the list]

Primordial Deep: "When a long extinct sea creature washes up on the shores of Coney Island, marine biologist Dr. Marella Morgan is contacted by a secret organization to investigate the origins of the creature’s sudden and unnatural resurgence. Soon, she and a team of experts find themselves living on the research station The Tiamat, traveling along the abyssal plains as they search for answers far below the waves. But there are dangers in these ancient waters. Reawakened, prehistoric monsters are rising from the deep -- jaws wide and waiting, and in the darkness, something is stirring."

Red Valley: "No one at Overhead Industries wants to talk about defunct research station Red Valley, and account man Warren Godby is out of his depth. When he meets Gordon Porlock, a disgruntled archivist with a bag of tapes from the station’s last known occupant, they will begin a journey to the limits of experimental science, confront horror and trauma from the past, present and future, and try to remember the cheat codes from Sonic the Hedgehog 2."

Rusty Quill Gaming: "An actual play podcast following a mixed ability group of comedians, improvisers, gamers, and writers as they play through the extended, tabletop roleplaying campaign Erasing the Line, an original game world of the GM’s crafting." --> [took me a while to get into because I have trouble focusing on non-scripted things, but eventually I got really hooked on the plot and attached to the characters. This podcast is really fucked up at times if you think about it]

SAYER: "A narrative fiction podcast set on Earth’s man-made second moon, Typhon. The eponymous SAYER is a highly advanced, self-aware AI created to help acclimate new residents to their new lives, and their new employment with Ærolith Dynamics." --> [feels like Welcome to Night Vale but narrated by GLaDOS from Portal]

StarTripper!!: "Join Feston Pyxis on a road-trip through the cosmos, as he leaves behind his old life in search of the best and wildest experiences the galaxy has to offer!"

The Amelia Project: "...is a secret agency that fakes its clients' deaths, then lets them reappear with a brand new identity! A black comedy full of secrets, twists... and cocoa."

The Big Loop: "...a biweekly anthology series. Each episode is a self-contained narrative exploring the strange, the wonderful, the terrifying, and the heartbreaking. Stories of finite beings in an infinite universe." --> [I don't like anthologies, except this one]

The Bright Sessions: "Dr. Bright provides therapy for the strange and unusual; their sessions have been recorded for research purposes." --> [think X-Men, but with therapy instead of a school]

The Deca Tapes: "Recordings have surfaced of ten people that are locked into the same space together. We don’t know where they are, or if they'll get out. But the answers must be somewhere on these tapes."

The Silt Verses: "Carpenter and Faulkner, two worshippers of an outlawed god, travel up the length of their deity’s great black river, searching for holy revelations. As their pilgrimage lengthens and the river’s mysteries deepen, the two acolytes find themselves under threat from a police manhunt, but also come into conflict with the weirder gods that have flourished in these forgotten rural territories."

The White Vault: "Follow the collected records of a repair team sent to Outpost Fristed in the vast white wastes of Svalbard and unravel what lies waiting in the ice below."

Tides: "...is the story of Dr. Winifred Eurus, a xenobiologist trapped on an unfamiliar planet with hostile tidal forces. She must use her wits, sarcasm and intellectual curiosity to survive long enough to be rescued. But there might be more to life on this planet than she expected." --> [think The Martian, but on a water planet]

Unwell, a Midwestern Gothic Mystery: "Lillian Harper moves to the small town of Mt. Absalom, Ohio, to care for her estranged mother Dorothy after an injury. Living in the town's boarding house which has been run by her family for generations, she discovers conspiracies, ghosts, and a new family in the house's strange assortment of residents."

VAST Horizon: "Nolira is an agronomist tasked with establishing agriculture in a new solar system, but when she wakes up on a now- empty colony ship, the whole of her plan disappears. The ship has been set adrift, with numerous mission-critical problems requiring immediate attendance outside of her area of expertise. Nolira is aided by the ship’s malfunctioning AI, which acts as her confidant and companion during the fight for survival."

Victoriocity: "Even Greater London, 1887. In this vast metropolis, Inspector Archibald Fleet and journalist Clara Entwhistle investigate a murder, only to find themselves at the centre of a conspiracy of impossible proportions."

We Fix Space Junk: "...follows seasoned smuggler Kilner and reluctant fugitive Samantha as they travel the galaxy, dodging bullets and meeting strange and wonderful beings as they carry out odd jobs on the fringes of the law."

Welcome to Night Vale: "Twice-monthly community updates for the small desert town of Night Vale, where every conspiracy theory is true. Turn on your radio and hide."

Within the Wires: "Stories told through found audio from an alternate universe."

Wooden Overcoats: "Rudyard Funn and his equally miserable sister Antigone run their family's failing funeral parlour, where they get the body in the coffin in the ground on time. But one day they find everyone enjoying themselves at the funerals of a new competitor - the impossibly perfect Eric Chapman! With their dogsbody Georgie, and a mouse called Madeleine, the Funns are taking drastic steps to stay in the business…" --> [one of THE funniest podcasts I have ever listened to]

#ask #anon #please talk to me about podcasts at all times #podcasts #podcast recommendations

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

"Clueless" *Part 3*

Okay so my dog ended up being totally fine, and luckily I had most of this written beforehand. <3

PS- REALLY shouldn't have watched the actual movie while writing this...lulz. Count how many actual lines from the movie you catch.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Tag List:

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@wanniiieeee

@milkshqke

@gibbs274

@aprildecker-blog

@objection-argumentative

@word-scribbless

@stars-in-the-skies-world

-----

He drove back up the Beach House, but you and Ariel had abandoned it for a loft in the city, no forwarding address. He asked himself why he was putting so much effort just to get back in contact with you. He couldn’t explain it, it was like something against logic.

He dialed Ariel’s number.

IGNORE.

Redial.

IGNORE.

Text: “Answer your phone!!!”

Redial.

“What do you want?”

“I want to talk to Y/N,”

“Well she doesn't want to talk to you,”

“What did you tell her, Ariel?”

“The truth,”

“I don’t...I can’t even begin to imagine what that means in your language,”

“Oh whatever Raf, what does it matter what I told her? She’s MY friend, not yours!”

“You don’t OWN her Ariel,”

“Don’t I?” She smirked. “I feed her, I clothe her, I give her a roof to sleep under. I even gave her a cute necklace with her name on it, like a collar,” she smirked.

"You're evil," he sneered.

“I’m a saint,” She scoffed. “Do you know where that girl would be without me? Do you know the years it would take in a therapist's office to heal the emotional trauma I so selflessly saved her from? Her life will be enriched and better because of me, how many girls can say that about you?"

“Oh right, like helping her hasn’t served you any purpose?”

“What purpose could it possibly have?”

“Please, if I ever saw you do anything less than 90% selfish I’d die of shock,”

“Oh that would be reason enough for me,”

“Look, I get it. You've never had a mother so you're treating her like your personal Barbie doll,"

“And what, you wanna be her Prince Ken? Or, lawyer Ken,”

“She’s NOT a Barbie doll!”

“You’re right, she’s not. So I’m not going to let you play with her emotions,”

“What does that even mean? For fuck’s sake Ariel, I just want to be her mentor,”

“Really?” Rafael could hear her rolling her eyes through the phone. “You’re trying THIS hard to mentor some girl you met less than 24 hours ago? REALLY,” She chuckled.

“I may not be ‘Harvard’ smart BRO, but I’m not stupid. I know when a guy has let’s say, less than moral intentions with a girl,”

“It’s not like that,” He growled. “She’s a sweet girl, Ariel. And I’m not going to let you try and change her into your clone,”

“Wha--my clone? Please, Raf she could NEVER reach my level. Believe me, I’ve tried for four years. She’s a good sidekick,”

“This isn’t over,”

“Isn’t it? You have ZERO idea where we are,”

“Please, there’s maybe 5 places in Manhattan you’ll go, and they’re all on the Upper East Side. It’s not hard,”

“Well then, I guess we’ll see who’s better at hide and seek!”

CLICK.

------

Ariel rolled her eyes with a smile just as you walked in the living room.

“Who was that?” You asked, toweling your hair from the shower you had just exited.

“Mom,” She rolled her eyes. “She wanted to make sure we weren’t tearing this place up,”

“Oh?” You asked, suddenly hopeful. “Was she going to ask Rafael to check?”

“What? NO,” Ariel shut down that thought quickly. “I assured her she didn’t need to send that dog over here to sniff around you anymore,”

“Ariel,” You rolled your eyes with a sigh. “I’m a big girl,”

“I know sweetie,” She walked over and scrunched your face. “Such a big girl,”

“Whatever,” You rolled your eyes again walking back to the bedroom.

“Hey…” Ariel grabbed the TV remote. “Do you wanna watch Clueless?”

“What? ….Why?”

“I don’t know, you mentioned it yesterday and now I can’t stop thinking about a young Paul Rudd,”

“....Who looks exactly like present Paul Rudd,” You laughed.

“I know right? I want the magic face cream he must use,” She giggled as you both sat down on the couch to watch the movie.

----

“See, Cher isn’t a bad person, right? She saved Tai,” Ariel gestured to the TV.

“Am I Tai in this situation?” You eyed her.

“Well, yeah,” She shrugged. “Duh,”

“I’ll take it, I love Brittany Murphy,” You shrugged.

“RIP,” Ariel made a sign of the cross with a kiss looking up to heaven. “We should pour one out for her,”

“On your mom’s thousand dollar rug?”

“Okay, so maybe just pour one for us,”

Her phone vibrated wildly; it vibrated so hard it fell off the coffee table onto the floor. You picked it up to put it back, but you happened to glance at the screen.

BHOLE BARBA: You can’t keep her from me forever, Ariel

Wha….keep who from him? You? Did...was he...did Ariel….?

“Alright, who’s ready for mimosas?!” Ariel said in a singsongy voice as she returned with two flutes of champagne.

“What is this?” You held the phone up to her. She read it, her eyes grew wide.

“I...He’s talking about the Adele CD I borrowed from him forever ago, he’s weirdly possessive about ‘her’,”

“Ariel,” You interrupted her with a stern face.

“What?” She played dumb.

“...How could you do this to me?” You asked with a hurt expression.

“Do what?” She rolled her eyes with a laugh. “Protect you from my loser ex brother?”

“You--! Oh my god,” You couldn’t believe it. Your own best friend was trying to mess with your happiness?

“Oh come on Y/N, it’s not that big of a--” She rolled her eyes with a laugh, pissing you off even more.

“It IS a big deal!” Tears stung your eyes, you hated that you started crying when you got angry. How pathetic was that?

“Why? You can’t possibly be in love with him or something,” She scoffed.

“NO! Of course not,” You crossed your arms. “But he could help me with school, with my career! Don’t you want me to get a good job, eventually move out of here?”

“Maybe I don’t!” She yelled suddenly.

“...What?” You asked in disbelief.

“Look, Y/N,” She sighed. “I...you...we both know under normal circumstances, we would never be friends,”

“...I mean, I guess…” You shrugged.

“Oh come on,” She gave you a look. “You’d have to explain every sentence you spoke to me,” She had crocodile tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Oh come on Ariel,” You sighed and sat next to her. “You’re NOT stupid,”

“I’m stupider than you!” She cried.

“...More stupid,” You corrected her.

“See?” She sniffled.

“Okay, but-- still,” You took her hand. "You're my best friend. Do you think that if I don't have to live with you anymore, I won't be your friend?"

"Maybe…" She looked at the floor.

"Ariel!" You cried. "Really? Come on,"

"You come on!" She was actually getting upset now. "Look, Y/N. I don't have...friends,"

"What?" You snorted. "You have the biggest social circle I know!"

"Yeah but--" she tried to find the right words. "They're not like….friends, friends ya know? They're more like…. followers, or leeches, of--"

"Sycophants," you chuckled. She did surround herself with as many people who would tell her she was amazing as possible.

"I don't know what that means but probably, yes," She nodded. “You’re the only one who I can actually talk to, you’re like my little sister,”

“....Right, so…? You think I’ll just give all that up if I move out? If I don’t need you financially anymore?”

“Maybe…” She mumbled. “But ALSO, if that stupid asshole gets into your head about me!”

“Oh God…” You put a hand over your head. “Ariel,” You took both of her hands and looked at her very seriously.

“You are my absolute best friend in this entire world, no…’boy’ could change that! I’ve known you so long, I know you completely. Nothing he could tell me would make me turn on you, I swear it,”

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“Really! You held a hand up like an oath. “AND, even if-- WHEN, I get financially stable and can live on my own two feet, I will ALWAYS be your friend,” You used the oath hand and placed it in hers again. “I swear it,”

“....Okay, but absolutely ZERO sleepovers here,”

“Oh, my god, ARIEL,” You gasped. “I JUST want to talk to him about law stuff!”

“Yeah, that’s what he said too,” She rolled her eyes, not believing either of you.

“He did?” You felt your face fall.

“Ah HA! See? Disappointment!”

“Shut up,” You hit her. “I don’t care, we should just be professional anyway,”

“Uh huh,” She nodded sarcastically.

“Are you going to give me his number or not?” You gave her a look.

“No,”

“ARIEL,” You crossed your arms.

“No, then you’re going to immediately call him and give him ALL the power,” She wagged a finger at you. “I’m going to give him YOUR number, and if he calls you, he calls you,”

“Ariel…” You gave her another look.

“What? You don’t believe me?” She feigned offense.

“I really don’t,” You shook your head.

“Alright FINE,” She pulled out her phone and opened her texts with Rafael, typed in your number and hit SEND.

“Happy?” She showed you her phone.

“....Maybe,” You hid the giddiness that was building in your stomach.

Almost IMMEDIATELY after sending the text, your phone lit up wildly.

“Good god I’m gonna get out of here before the nerdy phone sex starts,” She ran out of the room with her mimosa in tow.

“Shut up!” You hissed, mentally preparing yourself for this phone call. The phone call you’d been waiting for for days, even when you thought he was a “player”. You took a deep breath and hit ANSWER:

“Hello?”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah who’s this?” You asked coyly.

“It’s...Rafael, Barba…”

“I’m sorry, who?” You teased.

“Ariel’s….brother?” He skipped the asterisk that went along with “Brother”.

“Ohhhh right right right,” You nodded, keeping him nervous. “Yeah, Ariel told me all about you,”

“I knew it,” He growled thinking about Ariel and her lies. “Whatever she said, she’s lying,”

“Oh so you don’t want to be my mentor?”

“Wha--?” He was shocked. Did Ariel actually change her mind? Or dare he think...a change of heart?

“Yes! I mean, I do! I absolutely do!” He may have said that a little too overzealous, so he dialed it back. “I mean, if I have some time I’d be up for it, if that’s okay with you,”

“I might, maybe…” You were twirling your hair in your fingers. “When do you think you might have time?”

“Well you know I was thinking--” He started, but there was a knock at the door.

“Oh sorry, one second,” You got up and walked over to the door and swung it open to reveal Rafael standing there, right in front of you. He was dressed in a black suit with a pink tie. As amazing as he looked in street clothes, you thought you might mount him right there in that suit.

“I have some time right now,” He smiled, acting as if he was still on the phone. You couldn’t help yourself, you leapt into his arms and kissed him, HARD.

-------

“Hello? Y/N?”

You snapped back to reality, Rafael was talking to you on the phone.

“Oh! Um, Yeah, sorry what?”

“I said I have some time right now, if you wanna meet for coffee or something,” He half laughed, still enchanted by your awkwardness.

“Yes! Sure! I...let me just get dressed, just text me the address, I’ll meet you in a few,” You were so glad he couldn’t see how beet red you were from that little fantasy you had just been in.

“Sounds good,” You could hear him smile; even through the phone it made you weak in the knees.

You hung up and ran to Ariel’s room, hoping she’d help you get dressed.

What could you wear to impress him?

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #clueless #rafael barba imagine

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faakeid · 3 years

Note

fab nygmobblepot moments that remind you of kd uwu

OMGGGG AHDAHDUIADHAD

I want to use this moment to be sorry to everyone that follows me but keeps seeing my blog full of Nygmobs/Smaylor instead of kaisoo. I usually don’t get attached to otps like this and it happened in an unexpected way for me. But it’s here and I need to compensate for all the years I didn’t watch Gotham and had no idea about Nygmobs spamming everyone and making my heart warm.

But in general, nygmobblepot isn’t a vision of ideal relationship. Both Edward and Oswald (their surnames Cobblepot and Nygma were the ones who originated this name) are stupid and do stupid shit to each other during most of the series. So, a lot of moments related with the actors counterpart (Robin is the actor who plays Oswald and Cory who plays Ed) reminds me of kaisoo more. But a warning here! Although they have a HUGE chemistry on and off screen, they’re mostly friends. Robin is married for almost ten years so it doesn’t mean their closeness is romantic or sexual. But still, some details remind me of kd.

Similarities with nygmobs:

Height difference: it applies to Smaylor as well because it’s their height but it’s really visible in the series. Cory is a bit taller than JI I think and Robin is like 1.65 but KS is not that taller (I can’t believe he’s 1.73 at all, sorry). But, again, this factor is evident during the series and in some moments and it’s cute.

(the way he moves his feet to reach Ed’s head ;_;)

(when they hug, Oswald barely reaches his shoulders [their hugs are the equivalent to kisses in Gotham])

the closest gif I could find where we can see kd’s height difference without me stealing other people’s gifs.

Penguin reference? That’s pretty obvious. Of course I didn’t start shipping nygmobs because one of them is small and has the Penguin nickname but it made so much easier for me to read some of their fics with kd as characters because they fit the profile so much! And also, I believe KD would totally fit the “murder husbands” couple if someone did a fanfic where they just kill everyone. The closest I remember of a fanfic with this criteria is Juice Pouche where Kyungsoo is a vampire and he protects Jongin and Jongin is kind of badass as well. But the kd fandom needs more fics like this. There’s also “(Before the night is over) come see me” where KS is also a vampire and JI a young werewolf but it focuses more on their relationship than a murder husbands idea Gotham shows so well.

How they met: Gotham’s history has a lot of differences if you compare with other universes, so keep that in mind. In Gotham, Ed works with GCPD but doesn’t feel like himself with the good side. Oswald is the character that spices things up and is a rage of death and destruction and manipulation. But Oswald is infatuated with Jim Gordon (so isn’t the first time it’s implied Penguin is gay) but he goes to the police department to see him. Ed sees him and wants to talk to him no matter the cost. And he does that... And things don’t end that friendly for him because Oswald thinks he’s a weirdo and asks him to fuck off, basically. It reminded me of kd’s first meeting where KS was the one admiring JI all along but JI get frightned. But, during their second meeting, they bond and become friends. For Nygmobs it takes more time for their second meeting but they end up developing and being in good terms :’)

Their personas, sort of: Ed is the tall one, younger and logic. Oswald is the oldest, smaller and that thinks with his heart. I love how JI could show the more logic side of himself during the last few years and, again, while reading Nygmobs fics using kd names, it was easy to fit the profile for me (that was during the time I wasn’t too deep into nygmobs and I didn’t knok them that well. KS looks cold and deatached and that’s why many people got impressed when he said, during Knowing Bros that he would choose love over friendship. He doesn’t play the part but, considering all the context, it fits him pretty well and reading this description of Oswald made me so familiar because it fits KD well. Ofc I don’t know their private lives and whatever but it’s just the impression I had as a viewer and random person;

Drama issue: when I say drama here, it’s related with how people percieve the two OTPs and how different people visualize LGBT relationship in media. Nygmobblepot had a lot of drama involved because they’re the fucking Riddler and Penguin, two of the most famous Batman villains. People saw them in different sorts of media before and others idolize those characters because of videogames and comics. So, when Oswald mentioned expressedly that he was in love with Edward, it caused an uproar in the fandom. People accused the producers and Robin of messing with the comic canon because the fucking Penguin became gay??? Robin was outspoken about the homophobia behind those statements since he’s a gay man himself but yeah, the drama existed. Part of the people invovled with the series rooted for Nygmobblepot, including some writers and the actors (Cory was the one with ambiguous messages about the nature of their relationship but it’s not even close what happened with other series like Supergirl, Supernatural and Sherlock). But it was aired by FOX, a right wing channel and, as you may imagine, they didn’t become canon per se. Actually, after Oswald said he was in love with Ed and planned on confessing to him, the writers presented a clone of Ed’s ex girlfriend with no explanation and purpose, only to separate them for most part of the series future. After that, some people seemed to have FORGOTTEN Oswald was once in love with Edward, rationalizing many things that are hard to explain with a “bro explanation”, they had a scene where the characters would have evolved even more but it was CUTTED and CHANGED and execs added the sentence “we’re brothers” to make EXPLICIT that Nygmobblepot’s relationship wouldn’t be interpreted as a romance at the end of the series (but, honestly, the actors went for the romance path anyway, the deleted scenes and the final episode can’t convince me otherwise).

What’s related with KD, may you ask? I think you’re familiar with all the drama KD faced since 2016 and how many stuff exploded during that time. How many parts are involved into creating a certain image and shifting it to be appealing and “friendly” is similar with what happens with idols. It’s no secret now about many scandals of bullying and other issues that are considered problematic and how they need to be pushed under the rug for companies so idols can make money and be profitable. Especially for male idols, it’s important that they are viewed as desirable and an object of the fans affections. That’s why he needs to be handsome and kind and look like a person that doesn’t exist. If an idol is openly gay, this person isn’t viewed by the major public with the same interest because they can’t fit the fantasy. That’s why scandals involving idols being gay need to be forgotten and deleted from people’s minds, otherwise that celebrity is ostracized. Although we tend to see the Ocident as “progressive”, there’s similar things happening in that industry. If a celebrity is openly LGBT, they don’t receive certain roles or opportunities because of it. There’s still a huge stigma that needs to be broken and we, as a society, are so far way from it. But recognizing those differences exist it’s a step forward.

Similarities with Smaylor

For me, one of the reasons Nygmobblepot works so well is because of the actors. They portrait a good chemistry because of their friendship off screen and some non verbal signs they display around each other are amazing. Those are things that remind me more of KD as we see them in a lot of moments. So, I wanted space to show those comparisons below:

Mutual admiration: it’s something both Smaylor and KD display a LOT and is extrememly outspoken. I really love watching their old interviews because the affection and admiration is so genuine it makes me drawn to them despite not being romantically involved.

(full gifset)

(there are more moments than these but I don’t want to steal gifs and there’s not much on the gif research and that sucks. Same with KD’s).

Stares and touches: Robin was the responsible for the deep stares and Cory for the random touches. There’s so many gifs of it that is hilarious. It’s like JI divided himself in two cells because we know he’s more known for both >.<

(Cory was touching Robin all the way during this interview rip)

(the gifset!!!)

You’re pretty moment: Robin, like KS, is the one that mentions about Cory/JI’s physical attributes. They have a moment pretty similar and, for KD its famous among shippers:

(gif link)

(actually, Robin called Cory dashingly handsome but its okay)

Cory lost it

There’s another series of gifsets with Robin calling Cory handsome LMAOO

:))))

Synchronization: for specialists in body language, it’s a factor that shows two people are close. That’s because of the mirror neurons we have that makes us copy movements, actions or words that someone we have empathy/we are close with do or say. Both kd and smaylor do this and it’s really soft.

(one of the classics)

(classic 2)

whole gifset (i love this interview so much)

(gif)

The fact the actors came up with their OTP names: people tend to forget that KD’s real otp name (according with Jongin) is dika. Cory also came up with Nygmobblepot name and Smaylor too <3

So, meanwhile Nygmobs has thropies that work a lot with KD AUs, Smaylor has healthy dynamics seen in public appearances KD made. Like I said above, there’s a huge polemic about shipping Smaylor romantically because Robin is married. On social media, is visible he loves his husband and it’s pretty cute to see. Cory himself mentioned that their relationship was sort of a platonic friendship (whatever that means) but it’s really genuine in terms of affections and display of admiration, something KD has as well.

Probably someone will question that it may changed the way I see KD or if now I ship them as bros. Nothing about that changed. With KD, although there are some similar details, there are internal AND external factors that made me support them in a romantic perspective in the first place. And it didn’t change.

But both of them (Nygmobs too) make me feel that I’m testimoning something genuine, which is really hard in both kpop and media universes. In one side, we have a LOT of fanservice. And, in the other, it’s mostly a work interaction with lots of queerbating. Yes, Gotham has queerbating aspects in it but it’s not full of queerbating, if it makes sense. The message the actors and some writers wanted to convey are there and really display a romantic direction with character evolution and growth. And, considering the way media is nowadays, it’s nice to see.

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jasontoddiefor · 3 years

Text

As Lightning to the Children eased Chapter 14

Chapter 14 is out! Read on AO3!

Padmé did not call Anakin out when she found him hiding in her living room, arms tugged beneath his knees, his chin resting on top of them. He didn’t look like he had gotten any sleep lately and she was not about to stop him from getting at least some rest.

Instead, he merely put a cup of tea in his hands and went about her work. Halfway through midday, she got the call she had been waiting for.

“Senator Organa,” she greeted her ally and friend. Bail Organa was a good man, friendly and charming on top, and Padmé wondered what would happen if she were to let him meet Obi-Wan sometime. The two seemed like the kind of people who’d get along like a house on fire. “How are you?”

“Quite well, thank you,” Bail replied. He glanced at Anakin once but didn’t further react to his presence. “And yourself?”

“Exhausted, if I’m honest,” Padmé said. “The war hasn’t even truly started and I already feel as if I’ve aged years, but let’s not linger on that. How is your charge?”

“Adjusting,” Bail said. “I offered to take him home to Breha, but he decided that he wanted to stay on Coruscant. I’m not sure whether it’s the proximity to the Jedi or if it’s because he has to protect me in turn for keeping him safe, but I decided it would be beneficial for his health to remain at my side.”

Padmé smiled at him, honestly and truly happy. “I’m relieved to hear that.”

Finally, some good news during this catastrophe. When the Jedi had taken them all back to Coruscant, nobody had been too sure what to do with little Boba Fett. Technically speaking, his father – no matter how undeserving Padmé thought him of the title – was a deceased criminal and there were enough people who wanted Boba to pay for his father’s crimes. Hi status as a clone also didn’t really improve his situation. Padmé would have taken Boba in himself, as would the Jedi, but neither was quite the right fit, and when Bail Organa had offered to take him in, then that was just good fortune.

“If you ever need someone to babysit, I can jump in last minute,” Padmé joked.

Bail smiled and nodded. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, Padmé, but I believe Boba would protest quite heavily against being babysitted.”

“He can be part of my protective detail then,” she amended. “I’m sure he will do excellent work.”

The Council room was dead silent.

“You’re joking, aren’t you?” Qui-Gon asked, allowing disbelief to seep into his voice.

Whereas some of his fellow Masters smiled in tired exhaustion, others only rolled their eyes.

“A new member this Council needs,” Yoda said. “Wise in the Living Force you are and raised a brilliant Padawan you did. A new member of this Council you may be if you accept.”

Qui-Gon wondered what Dooku would say about this. His Master had already departed with his own clone battalion, heading straight to the Outer Rim and into the zones that promised the most gruesome battles. Dooku was a brilliant talker and given his relationship with the Senate, he’d probably be more useful on the Council than Qui-Gon. He had already been on the Council once.

Qui-Gon knew he was stubborn and thick-headed and unlikely to change his mind unless proven wrong. Both Dooku and Obi-Wan had told and shown him so often enough. Qui-Gon wasn’t chosen for delicate and amicable peace talks. He usually went to do the negotiations where they expected things to blow up, and more often than not, they did.

He was not the best option for a War Council, especially when he struggled to wield the Force as he used to.

“Why me?” he finally asked when he didn’t know what other question there was left to voice.

“Love this Order more than anyone else, you do. Had Knight and Padawan Skywalker not found their way here, found your way to them, you would have. Listen well to the world, you do. Not afraid to speak your words, you are. Ready for this, you are.”

Not yet. Speak first. Right a wrong, my dear child, explain your scars—

“I have to talk to Anakin,” Qui-Gon said, his heart hurting at the thought of the youth, yet rejoicing at finally getting a glimpse of the Force again. “I cannot give you an answer before I spoke to him.”

The Masters nodded and Qui-Gon left.

Anakin was easy to find, hiding away in one of the lowest accessible levels of the temple. These days, he was either at Obi-Wan’s sickbed when Obi-Wan was asleep, at his mother’s when she wasn’t telling him to finally go talk to Obi-Wan, hiding away in Padmé’s apartments or down here. Qui-Gon had first thought that Anakin would try to go deeper, search for what lingered beneath the warm marble of their temple, but he never moved from his spot.

“Anakin.”

The Padawan winced when his name was called, then slowly turned his head only to return to staring blankly at his hands. He looked absolutely miserable, tired too. Qui-Gon sighed.

“Do you remember the mission to Naboo? When we accompanied Padmé back to it?”

Anakin gave no sign that he was listening to Qui-Gon, but he decided to keep talking anyway. “When we entered the ship, you collapsed. Something set you off, something incredibly dark and harmful, and, best I could tell, it flipped a switch for you. Revealed something it shouldn’t have.”

Anakin’s hands curled to fists as Qui-Gon sat down next to him. “Obi-Wan and I didn’t know what to do, so we- no, I decided to do what I thought was best. I blocked those memories, dressed them up in kinder images.”

Even now, so many years later, Qui-Gon remembered it so clearly. The chains wrapped around Anakin’s entire body, the sun burning him, reminding him that he was not supposed to be there.

“And then, when you tried to heal me later on, you needed the knowledge that I had hidden from you to do better.”

“To let you die, you mean,” Anakin said. His voice was hoarse as if he hadn’t spoken in days. “It would have stopped me from resurrecting you.”

“Yes,” Qui-Gon agreed. “I would have died and it would have been alright because it was my time. My actions took away something you should be able to recognize subconsciously and I want to apologize for it.”

Silence followed Qui-Gon’s statement as they let his words linger. It was true. That he realized now. Whatever he had done, it had shifted something within Anakin that wasn’t meant to be shifted sideways.

“I think you made me human,” Anakin replied, wings unfurling as bones cracked. “I don’t think I was meant to be human.”

His eyes were still closed, but Qui-Gon could still fill all of them watching him, waiting for a reaction, a confirmation.

“No, you were not,” Qui-Gon replied. “And I’m sorry I made you something you weren’t supposed to be in my fear of what you might have become in that moment.”

“I want to be human,” Anakin muttered. He stretched out his fingers, sharp claws, golden like his teeth, bleeding as if from scratching his arms raw, trying to dissect himself and sew his flesh back together in the right way, anything less hurtful. “I don’t want to be like this. Everything is so loud and I’m always too much and if I get angry, I break the world apart. It isn’t fair that I can feel so much, but I’m not allowed to embrace it.”

“Oh, Anakin.” All thoughts of logically expressing this to his Grandpadawan were forgotten. “Who told you that you can’t embrace your emotions? You just can’t let them become too much. You can’t let them consume you. You need to find your balance again.”

Qui-Gon knew it was a cruel demand to make when he had been so afraid of what would become of Anakin almost a decade ago now. There was no telling whether Anakin would still exist once he found that balance again or whether he’d return to his silent parent. After all, what parent would abandon their child if not because they knew they weren’t needed anymore?

“I’m scared,” Anakin admitted. “I was afraid my mother would be put back together again wrongly if I healed her so I lashed out and murdered all of them in cold blood and then I was scared to lose Obi-Wan and instead he lost his arm because of me and I’m scared that if I try to fix me, I won’t be me at all. I know I can do it. I’ve been looking, I can see where you used your paint on me, but I just—”

Anakin looked up, bright blue eyes staring at Qui-Gon as he cried and wrapped his arms around him, hiding his face in his robes.

“I don’t know what to do.”

Gently, Qui-Gon held onto Anakin. How strange that a being as bright and strong as him needed an anchor as fragile as Qui-Gon. He ran his fingers through Anakin’s hair, humming a melody under his breath he’d been taught years ago on a small Mid Rim planet.

Minutes passed, hours without either of them moving until Anakin’s shoulders stopped trembling.

“I can’t tell you what the right path is, Anakin. You have to decide that for yourself. The only advice I can give you is this question: do you love the Jedi?”

“What?” Anakin’s confusion was painted across his face in broad brushstrokes.

Qui-Gon smiled. “I asked if you loved the Jedi?”

“Of course! You’re my home, my family! How could I not?”

“Good.” Qui-Gon nodded. “Then you will remind yourself of the fact that you love your family and that your family loves you every day and every action you take will be in this knowledge. Do not act against this love in your heart, Anakin, and may it ease the burden on your mind.”

May it guide you well.

Obi-Wan’s hand trembled. He hardly had any control over his new appendage and it frustrated him to no end. He was a perfectionist at heart, had spent hours training his fine motor control to become a Master of his form. He tried to keep his breathing under control, to focus, and not let the pain overwhelm him. If not for his own sake and to resist the temptation of just throwing his lightsaber halfway across the room, then for Anakin.

His Padawan already felt so guilty for Obi-Wan’s injury, he didn’t want to make him feel worse.

He couldn’t stand the thought of looking at Anakin’s sad eyes.

“Rough night?”

Obi-Wan turned his head around to find Shmi standing at the entrance of the training hall. Her injuries had healed well during her stay with the Healers, only a few faint scars across her face and shoulders revealing what she had been through. She was dressed ready for battle, wearing the new armor the Jedi had been given. Obi-Wan had tried it on once and immediately wished he could message Satine and ask her whether he could borrow one of hers for the war. Mandalorian armor was so much more comfortable.

Not that he thought the Jedi should wear any at all.

“Are you shipping out?” he asked.

“Yes, Dooku asked for backup. Apparently, he’s been dealing with a Sith apprentice – a different one than the one you encountered on Geonosis – and intends to chase her down. Someone must take over his battalion. Since he dragged me back home from Tatooine, I’ll return the favor.”

“Take Anakin with you,” Obi-Wan heard himself say. “He needs to get out of the temple.”

“You haven’t talked yet,” Shmi stated, her tone not allowing for any disagreement.

“No,” Obi-Wan agreed. “And I don’t think Anakin will talk to me as long as he hasn’t gotten a proper break. So, please?”

Shmi studied him for a moment, then she sighed. “Alright, but the moment you’re fit for duty, he’s your Padawan again.”

Obi-Wan managed to crack a smile at that. “Of course, I’d never trade him for another.”

#star wars #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn #shmi skywalker #fanfic

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Text

The Fight

CW: Ableism against a child, references to attempted noncon/assault of a survivor, religious references to the Bible, conditioning, trauma recovery, trauma response

TIMELINE: Immediately post-Creepy Pet Lib Guy. Links in piece.

She hears his footsteps, the soft motion of him through the living room and into the den, where a single lamp is on in the corner on the side table next to the old couch Paul never could bear to throw out. Ronnie doesn’t look over at him, instead picking at a bit of duct tape affixed over a ripped spot while sipping her beer straight from the bottle.

There’s a show on the television - they have a new one finally, but Ronnie’s never thrown out a damn thing that wasn’t broken just because it got replaced and she’s not about to start now, so she moved it in here - but she’s not watching it. Not even sure what the show is, only that the laugh track is tinny and never seems timed to the moments of actual humor.

The house is mostly silent, this late at night. There’s no sound but the occasional gurgle from the ice machine in the fridge, the soft hum of electronics that she never notices except when the power goes out, and then only because of its sudden absence.

No sound but the television’s off-key laughter and the footsteps of her son, creeping up behind her.

“Mommy?” His voice is so high and soft, fuzzy with sleepiness, and she turns with a tired smile to see him dragging his favorite blanket behind him along the floor. It’s a quilt she bought at a church’s Christmas market when he was two, and it had buttons sewn in with the patches, giving the cats the quilt is decorated with three-dimensional button eyes.

His face is rounded and so like his father’s, even so, his face and eyes and his hair are all Paul’s, through and through. He’s an echo, a clone of his father, in a lot of ways… up to and including navigating a world that has already labeled him as difficult, and he’s only six years old.

“Hey, baby. What are you doing up?” She’s twenty-three with a six year old son, and doesn’t that seem strange, some days? So many of her friends from high school are still out until dawn, posting photos of their drunken shenanigans on Facebook, and here Ronnie sits… twenty-three, with a husband who works nights, and a six-year-old son whose teacher calls him hopeless, right to his fucking face.

“I, I, I had a bad dream,” He says, and his eyes are so, so big in his small round face. Paul’s eyes are like that, big and green and soulful. She’d fallen into them, her junior year, and she’d never wanted to climb back out. No matter that her friends thought he was weird, no matter that yeah, okay, he is weird - he’s her kind of weird, and she and Paul understood each other right from the start.

“Oh, no.” She pats the couch cushion beside her and he clambers almost eagerly up to tuck himself in beside her. Her throat nearly closes as he carefully spreads his blanket out to cover them both, the simple gesture of care and love. How do you look this boy in the eyes and tell him he can’t do something? “What was your bad dream about, do you want to tell me?”

“Monsters,” He says, as if that single word relays all the information she could possibly need. Maybe it does, really - at least the monsters her son dreams about are easier to vanquish than the ones Ronnie has to help him learn how to face on his own as he grows.

“Good thing I monster-proofed this house before we moved in,” Ronnie teases. She moves her arm around his shoulders and he smiles, faintly, eyes closing as he leans his head against her collarbone, his ear right where he’s always wanted it, ever since birth - over her heart. Listening to her heartbeat. Sure enough, his fingers find their way to her stomach and start to tap in time with it, and Ronnie sips her beer again.

“Monsters aren’t, aren’t, aren’t real, actually,” He says, speaking quietly and without opening her eyes, and Ronnie thinks if her six-year-old well, actuallys her one more time… she read all the parenting books and has a whole shelf of parenting memoirs she’s picked up and not a single one mentioned that little kids are fucking know-it-alls. Not one.

“Well, if they’re not real, then why are you buggin’ Mommy at midnight because of dreaming about them, huh?” She keeps her voice light and affectionate, just this side of teasing. Tristan doesn’t react well to any kind of perceived anger or rejection, moping for a day or more around while his brain tries to process that she didn’t stop loving him just because he did something that bothered her. Tris as a toddler broke her heart more than once with terrified insistence that you, you, you don’t even like me anymore after time-outs or discipline.

He’s just being manipulative, her mother had said once, but Ronnie knew better.

He’s three years old, Mom. He’s not trying to manipulate me, he’s scared.

He’s just doing what works, Veronica, you can’t always give in to it.

Mom. He is a little boy. Do you realize how you sound?

Now his teacher is repeating the same tired circular logic that cycles round and round her son without ever seeing him. Ronnie is staring down the barrel of another round of meetings, talking to administrators to try and get around the teacher’s rigidity and hostility, arguing for Tris to get moved into a new class, and all the while he’ll fall further and further behind in his in-class work - while at home he rockets through the homeschooling workbooks she buys, a six-year-old already doing second-grade reading and writing work, first-grade math, obsessed with a kid show about science that they have to watch every single day or he has seriously informed her he might die.

The knowledge is there, and his love of learning hasn’t been throttled by school yet, and Ronnie can’t do anything but try to work within a system that tells her that her son needs to be changed or cured in order to not be kept locked away from everyone else.

Monsters are pretty fucking real, in Ronnie’s experience.

One day her son will have to learn that all the monsters are human beings.

God, she’s so tired of fighting, and so very aware that she’s not going to stop until the whole damn world remakes itself to give space for Tristan, until the world deserves how unreservedly her son loves it.

She takes another drink, then sets the beer bottle carefully down on the coaster - she ordered them last year, and they all have little stylized drawings of the three of them on it, faceless sketches of a man, a woman, a child - man and child red-headed, woman with brown hair.

When she’d gotten the positive pregnancy test, right before Thanksgiving her junior year, she’d thrown up and cried for a week and been sullen and silent at the holiday table, trying to figure out what to do next.

But Paul had never hesitated. When she told him, his response had been to go home to his dad and ask to start working part-time with the Garden, running packages he never looked into, playing lookout outside of bars while the Garden met inside. His first pay - cash handed to him in an envelope - he’d spent some of it on a onesie, a baby blanket, and a stuffed puppy with fur so soft Ronnie could barely stand the fluff.

Then he’d spent some more on ginger chews and ‘Preggo Pops’, lollipops that were supposed to help with Ronnie’s morning sickness, and three books on pregnancy for her and one book on becoming a dad for him.

Paul did what Paul always did - took one look at a cliff he had to cross and simply leapt headfirst and hoped for the best. That impulsiveness that she loved and that had gotten him in so much trouble in life, the enthusiasm that carried her long with it.

There are monsters in the world, Ronnie thinks, running fingers through her son’s fine, soft hair. But there are people who help you fight the monsters, too. Even if the monster is just the stares from other students at school as her stomach grew, the way her friends’ parents stopped letting her come to their houses, the thin-lipped disapproval of the principal handing her a high school diploma as she half-waddled across the stage, refusing to be shamed, engagement ring on her finger. Even if the monster is a world that tries to shove her son into boxes that he can’t fit into, or a teacher who sends him home in tears convinced he’s too stupid to learn anything.

Her jaw sets.

Veronica Higgs has been headstrong since birth, and she’s never made a decision she didn't follow through on. Never turned away from a fight. She’s not about to start now, not when it’s her son.

Ronnie has never turned away from the sweet baby that had looked at her with such dark-eyed seriousness when he was born, the infant who cried for reasons Ronnie couldn't’ fathom, the toddler who screamed that the lights at Target hurt his skin, the little boy who lined up dinosaurs and cars and toy horses in perfect color gradients, the boy who rocks in her arms and hums when he’s happy, the boy she hopes will one day be able to live on his own without her, because…

Because if only Paul and Ronnie are going to fight for him, then they’re going to have to be a fight so fierce that everyone else can’t possibly hold out against them.

The doctors said he might not talk - and he talks a mile-a-minute, about any-fucking-thing that comes into his mind. They said he wouldn’t make friends easily, but he goes on sleepovers with his gymnastics buddies, just went to a party at Chuck E. Cheese with a little preparation so he wasn’t scared of the games and lights and noise when he got there. They said he would struggle in school, and-

Well, he does. But only because of the adults who refuse to understand that Tris learns just fine… if you let him listen in his own way.

“Hey, Tris?” She smiles down at him and he turns those big green eyes up to her. There’s a chapped spot on his lower lip that looks like he might have messed with it until it opened into a sore, and she reminds herself to get some vaseline on it. “You want to stay here with me for a bit? We’ll watch one of your shows, and then back to bed. How’s that sound?”

He smiles at her, and nods a little, still tapping along to her heartbeat. “Oh, oh, okay, Mom. Can, can, can… can-can… can we watch Dino King?”

“Yeah, sure.” Ronnie hates that show, but really - he loves it, and it’s one night, and she could use the way his open, brilliant happiness helps her forget that he’s going to have to work harder and harder to hold onto it as he grows.

She picks up the remote, brings up the menu, switches to a streaming network, and listens to the grating, familiar theme song start to play as her son’s eyes move contentedly to the screen.

He watches the show, but he never takes his head away from her heartbeat.

---

Natalie Yoder has had easier nights than this one, that’s for fucking sure. She leans over the kitchen table, papers spread out in front of her, trying to figure out where they went wrong. This is one of their biggest grants, it’s a bit of funding that she has always relied on, and… denied approval for the upcoming fiscal year.

Thousands of dollars she needs to feed and clothe and house her rescues, gone up in smoke, denied with a bloodless email and no ability to fight back, not for this one. Not this year. It could be a simple error, something she overlooked, sure. Or maybe the association that gives out the grants is suspicious of her story about transitioning homeless people into permanent housing, which really is exactly what she’s doing, isn’t it?

Just… not the kind of homeless people the grant givers are imagining.

She’ll have to call Vince to beg for him to help her fill in the gap, and that will mean time for him to speak with his finance guy and get another couple of shell companies to funnel the money through so it doesn’t go back to him. He’ll give it to her, to be sure - Vince could give her the money to run this place flat out for the rest of his life and still be one of the wealthiest men in America, thanks to his low-key lifestyle and strong work ethic meaning he spends more time filming or producing than he does doing anything else.

Nat knows why Vince doesn’t want to be home, to sit up alone with a bottle or a glass in his hand. She knows his work ethic is simply escaping the demons that will never stop haunting his footsteps, what he traded away for his success, what he lost, what the money and fame can protect him from but can’t remove the stamp of it already written over his soul.

He’s famous, and rich, and Owen Grant can’t touch him now… but the tradeoff of Vince’s survival was that some innocent kid was abducted and turned, through drugs and torture and horrifying assault, into Kauri.

Kauri, who hasn’t answered the phone or sent a text in a week.

Not since that fucking group meeting where Chris was assaulted and Kauri stood up for him. Not since Kauri’s intuition that Kyle had some less-than-savory interest in Chris had proven correct, because… it wasn’t intuition at all.

It was experience.

Nat groans, rubbing her hands over her face, closing her eyes and reminding herself, teeth ground together, to try and stay calm. It’s not unusual for Kauri to disappear for a while, a week or more. It’s not a sign that something is wrong. He was hurt by Nat pushing him, he needs time to think.

He’ll pop right back up again, smiling like nothing happened, like he isn’t giving Nat gray hairs (well, new ones, anyway) trying to tell herself he’ll be okay.

All she can do is trust that he’ll come back when he’s ready.

... and castigate herself for letting that fucking predator get close to Chris without picking up on what he was planning, and for not realizing Kauri wasn’t just being overprotective of a younger rescue, but - in his own way - waving giant red flags that Nat, and Jake, and everyone else just didn’t see.

That, and then losing the grant, have made for one hell of a fucking week.

Nat takes deep breaths. Her hands smell like dish soap and a hint of the roasted garlic she’d put in the soup for supper lingering. The kitchen still smells like the garlic, roasted parsnips and rosemary. Chris had never had parsnips before-

Not that anyone knows if he really hasn’t or not.

“Oh, Nat, you are a mess tonight,” She mutters to herself. “Just full-on moping, huh? That’s how we’re gonna play it?”

Then she hears the soft scrape of a foot on the tile and looks up, blinking, to see Chris in the doorway, leaning against the wood of the frame, the big purple fuzzy blanket she’d gotten him a few weeks back wrapped around his narrow shoulders, the hints of faded muscle that still linger there. Usually he’s draped in Jake’s clothes but tonight he’s only wearing his basketball shorts, no shirt at all.

The rare glimpse of so much of Chris’s skin - she hasn’t seen so much of him since the night he arrived in the pouring rain - tells Nat more than anything else that Chris isn’t okay, either.

“Hey, Chris. What’s up, sweetheart?” Nat glances over at the oven, squinting at the clock, and then groans. “Jesus, it’s nearly 2 am. I lost track of time, I guess.”

Chris doesn’t move from the doorway, not at first. He’s gone quiet again, since the assault, regressing back into periods of stillness and silence that they were so sure he’d gotten past. Jake says he’s testing again, trying to push Jake and Antoni into repeating the patterns that were tortured into his mind as normal, reacting with relief at their rejections - and then testing again, within hours, reminding himself that they’ll never say yes.

Nat looks at him, the shadows under his green eyes, and tries, “Did you have a nightmare?”

He slowly nods, and she watches his hands twist a little into the soft fabric of his blanket, rhythmically twisting to the side and back, nearly invisible with how well he can hide what he does to soothe himself, a skill taught in all the worst ways, learned in a desperate attempt to keep himself sane.

“Hm. I can see that. Was it about the meeting, the other night?”

His eyes dance away from hers, move to the ceiling, and he’s staring upwards at the rough texture up there as he nods, chewing on his lower lip with his top teeth, worrying at a spot that she knows he’ll eventually work to bleeding, sooner or later. He pauses and says, softly, “Kauri… didn’t come find me. That was, was my... my dream. And... it. It hurt.”

His voice, slow drips of speech, hits Nat like a knife to the heart. She nods, slowly, and pushes herself up, chair scraping back across the tile. Chris flinches minutely at the sound, curling a little into himself. “I understand, sweetheart,” She says, softly. “I’m so sorry we didn’t know sooner.”

She thinks, looking at him, of Daniel in the lion’s den, an old Bible story that’s never left her. Daniel trusted God and walked out unscathed, but she’s always thought maybe he wasn’t quite as unscathed as the Bible wants you to think he was.

It’s one thing to have faith that you’ll survive being thrown in with monsters - it’s another to be so inhuman that you don’t wake with nightmares, for months or years after, that you were never saved at all. She is certain, deep down inside of her, that Daniel dreamed of a lion’s teeth and a promise broken, a prayer unheard.

The stories talk about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in a furnace walking out of the flames untouched, but of course the flames had still touched them. Scars aren’t always written openly on your skin.

Of course they dreamed of flames scorching their skin, curling their hair, smoke stealing breath from their lungs. They, like Daniel, must have woken gasping, certain that their faith had been misplaced, that their trust that someone stood between them and the monsters who would destroy them had been betrayed.

They must have breathed, panting, in the middle of the night, and sworn they could still see the smoke in the air, feel the heat against their skin.

They must have needed to come fully awake to remember - and believe - that they had been rescued. They must have needed the reminder.

Chris has no scars from walking with monsters - all his scars are inside his head. Chris’s scars come in his fear that she will not want him, that no one really wants him, when he can’t fight back or say no or defend himself, when he needs someone else to be his defense, to go to war. They come in his insistent, constant testing of Jake, pushing to see if it’s all been a lie, if they only want to use him the way he has been taught he is made to be used.

“Kauri was smarter than any of the rest of us,” Nat says, feeling suddenly exhausted. “We should have listened. I shouldn’t have had to step in. You deserved better.”

Chris deserves a fucking angel to lead him untouched out of the flames.

All he has is Jake - and Nat.

She fills a saucepan with cold milk while he watches her, his eyes on her back a tangible, palpable weight, and pops a lid on, turning the dial until the flames flicker up from the burner to start heating it to a simmer.

“I’m going to have hot chocolate the old fashioned way,” She announces, pulling down a bag with some discs of melting chocolate in it. They cost too much and mostly nobody notices the difference, but tonight… tonight, she thinks the extra effort is worth it. “You want whipped cream on yours, when it’s done?”

“Yes, please,” He whispers, and she looks over at him with a small smile. His hair is mussed still from sleep, a hint of red on his cheek where he must have had it pressed into a pillow. His freckles stand out in the thin light of the kitchen’s overhead light fixture.

Next door, at Miss Ruth’s, a light turns on, and Nat glances through her own window to see it. Jaden, probably - that kid sleeps about as little as Chris does.

“Well, good, because I’m having some, too.” She pauses, leaning her back against the kitchen counter. There’s a long silence that draws out between them. The milk heats, bubbling just the tiniest bit around the edges in the saucepan, and Nat carefully drops in the chocolate discs to melt whisking until the liquid is a rich brown, thickened, ready for her to pour carefully into two mugs and top with the spray-bottle whipped cream she keeps in the fridge.

Nat sets the mugs down on the kitchen table, pulling Chris a chair up right next to hers. He relaxes a little at the tacit, silent request for closeness, drops into his chair with a slight smile playing over his face. He picks up the mug with both hands and takes a sip, getting whipped cream at the end of his nose, wiping it off with a scrunched-up expression that lifts some of the fatigue that dogs Nat’s muscles in the early-morning hours.

“I know the dreams are scary,” Nat says softly, reaching out to lay a hand on his back. He looks over at her, with those giant green eyes in his narrow face, searching for something in her. Maybe just for certainty that the promises she’s made to him will be kept. “But Kauri did come to help you. And you’re safe here, with us. We’ll always come for you, Chris, no matter what.”

He leans over, with slow inevitability, until the top of his head brushes against her neck, his head just at her collarbone. She lets her arm slide around his shoulders, her hand moving to run fingers slowly through his fine, soft coppery hair. “I, I, I forgot how to say no,” He whispers, and presses his head against her.

“I know, honey. But that’s okay, we get back up and try again, right?” Nat sips her own hot chocolate slowly, and Chris holds his cupped warm in his palms, but even as he keeps taking sips, he doesn’t pull away from her. Eventually, he puts the mug back down on the table and shifts a little, so his ear is just over her heart.

“We, we, we try again,” He whispers. “But, but, but I don’t want to, to, to, I don’t-... want to be, um, to be scared again, to… have someone-”

“I know.” Nat swallows, her throat closing, briefly, but she fights it back and keeps her voice - and her hand through his hair - steady as she speaks. “There are going to be bad people out there, Chris, who want to hurt you. But you’re not alone.”

She thinks again of Daniel, waking from nightmares of gnashing teeth, maybe kicking off blankets and pacing a room, his skin written invisibly with the aftermath of a terror that never punctured skin. She thinks of three men in a fire, dreaming again and again that the fourth never arrived to lead them out of the flames.

She thinks of promises made, and kept. Prayers spoken in desperation, and answered, although so often far too late.

She thinks of the prayers for mercy, in the cold white rooms, that are never heard at all.

She’s tired, but she loves them - all of them, who have passed through her doors and gone on to other places - and she can’t imagine being anything but their army, their defense, the wall they can hide behind to rebuild themselves until they fight on their own.

Not on their own, though, never really on their own.

She may never know what happened to him, to bring him here to her doorstep - but she knows that he doesn’t have to face the monsters, the flames, the danger alone. Not anymore.

“You’re safe here,” She says, gently, and turns her head to rest her chin on top of his head. “You’re safe here, and loved, and there’s nothing we won’t do to make sure you’re safe. Whatever comes at you, sweetheart, we’ve got you. And we’ll fight it for you, every time, until you can fight for yourself.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then he asks, in a whisper, “Do, do, do you you-you promise?”

“Promise, Chris. Cross my heart and hope-”

“Don’t-... don’t say the, the end of it.” His voice weakens. “Please.”

“Sorry, sweetie.” She tightens the arm around his shoulders a little, and feels him snuggle closer in response, a low sigh of relief at the reassurance in the embrace. “Swear on everything. I’ve got you, and Jake has got you, and we’re not gonna disappear. I don’t-... I don’t know if we can always save the day for you, Chris, but I can promise you that we will always try.”

He hums, eyes closing. One of his hands slides over her stomach, and begins - slight, soft, barely-there - to tap.

It takes Nat a few seconds to realize that he is tapping along to the beat of her heart.

---

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