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fuckmyskywalker · 8 hours

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𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐧!𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈: 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬.

Summary: A week of chaos. From the end to the very beginning. You find yourself in the darkness, remembering how the light touched your skin first. When you fly too close to the sun...

CW: 18+. dead dove do not eat, non-con, gun play, knife play, knife riding, death threats, dirty talk, dark content. | word count: 3.3k

a/n: Hope you enjoy it! DNI if you don't like the topics listed and DNI if you are a minor. Happy riding!

Hitman!Anakin series.

"𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘺."

Sunday. 16th.

Comically, he could argue with any soul that crossed the empty streets that life doesn’t have a price. He could laugh at the soft-spoken, naive answer of self-value, laced with the dumb kindness of human nature. Humans are kind by nature, or that’s what idealists say; what— a sane person, he thinks— would say is that humans are selfish by nature, the realistic approach.

Since the start of times, the number two has been sacred. There are two worlds to join in the afterlife: Heaven and hell. Two deities to recognize: God and the Devil. Two spectrums: Good and bad. Two cycles: Day and night… and two options: To kill, or get killed.

It could also be described as a constant phrase he learned while growing up: “The strong one will eat the weak one”, eight words haunting him like the plague, following him and patting his shoulder at every failure, and congratulating him at every success. Strength equals power, money equals power, intelligence equals power… but can a man have it all without losing his mind? Or perhaps he is just getting philosophical when he shouldn’t. Unlocking the windows with ease as his mind races with the never-ending turmoil of an unfair life, edging him to do unfair jobs, and win dirty money.

Although Anakin Skywalker has learned that some hot dish soap helps clean the blood stains over dollar signs.

Twisting the knife— an anxious habit— Anakin stands beside your bed, watching your immobile boy. There’s a soft smile plastered on your face, you must be having a nice dream… too bad it won’t last long. Leaning down, the tip of the knife dances over your neck, careful— careful. Not yet. Those aren’t his instructions. Although his boss never specified the in-betweens.

His lips ghost over the shell of your ear, raising goosebumps in your slumber. Your skin is aware of the intruder, the instincts kicking in. “Hey,” His voice is barely audible, but his warm breath sends a jolt of adrenaline like a lethal injection directly into your veins. “Wake up.”

Your eyes shoot open, body jolting forward only to be pushed back by the knife against your throat and his gloved hand over your face. There’s no need to use brutal force, it’s easy to fuel your fear; blue eyes staring into yours through the holes of the black ski mask. He can tell you are shaking— in fact, he can see it.

“Don’t move, don’t try to scream. If you do, I’ll slice your throat from ear to ear. Smiley face, that’s why I like to call that,” He chuckles when he sees you shivering. Oh, to be the strong one grants him with a power that makes him feel alive. Who cares about repercussions when simple acts and sighs like your tears make him feel immortal? “Do I make myself clear?”

You nod weakly. Every fiber of your being is yelling at you to run, to push him and throw him everything within your reach but you can’t move. Your body is paralyzed and for the first time in your privileged life, you realize something frightening. When he pulls back and lets go of you, the loud exhale that escapes your lungs pleasures him even further. Good. Everything is going according to plan.

It doesn’t matter how much money you have. You can die just like anyone else.

“See, I can imagine you already know why I am here,” Anakin continues, chuckling when you shake your head. “No? Uh, I thought you’d be smarter. Well, I guess money can’t buy intelligence.”

Your eyes flicker to his wrist, watching him twist the knife. At least he isn’t all over you. How can a human be so calm while toying with another’s future? As if it wasn’t a delicate situation, as if money was everything in the world— pathetic.

Stuttering, you run toward the only option your brain knows. “I’ll d–double the price. I’ll triple it,” Your legs move, hanging them on the edge of your tall bed. Anakin arches an eyebrow, he could’ve killed you for moving. Yet, he is somewhat interested in your offer. “I can pay much more than whoever hired you.”

“Oh, really?” Anakin laughs. It’s a cold, bitter laugh. There is no humor in it. Only cruelty. “And what makes you think money was the only thing I got paid with?”

“Who hired you?”

He laughs again. It has been seconds since you heard him laugh for the first time and you loathe the sound already. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out, darling. Or maybe I’m lying. Maybe it’s just like the movies and I get a mystery envelope with money and your name. Would that make you feel better?”

He is definitely mocking you, which normally would raise your anger and bring out the worst in you— right now it seems like a bad choice. Anakin can’t blame you for questioning, every victim does, sometimes he grants them their wish— when they aren’t that important— sometimes he just does the job, hoping they die with their doubts as their last thought. Your life's on the line, it must be the first time someone has pierced your little bubble… so yeah, he can’t blame you.

“Please don’t kill me, I’ll… I’ll do anything.”

There it is. Classic. His favorite words. Anything means anything. Everything is fair in love and war— everything is fair at gunpoint. “Anything?’ He repeats. “It’s not like I haven’t heard that one before.” His sarcastic tone flies over your head. You cannot pay attention to anything else besides the ringing in your eardrums and the palpitations of your heart.

Anakin finds great joy in fueling the terror in your soul. It is something he wasn’t exactly born with— or at least, during his loneliest nights, buried in alcohol and money, surrounded by his guns and his ghosts. He isn’t afraid of them, they can’t hurt him.

“Anything,” You confirm, lip wobbling and tears streaming down your cheeks. His task was awfully simple, yet, there is something he must do first now that he sees you more clearly. Anakin doesn't have the pleasure to witness such a pretty downfall often.

In a swift move, Anakin lifts the knife over his head, smirking wider when you raise your hands in a pitiful attempt at self-defense. Expectant, you sob one last time before the pain comes, before the burning sensation of piercing skin and crimson blood.

Which never arrives.

The sharp blade pierces through the sheets and the mattress. Ripping the stitches and creating the most awful sound you have ever heard in your life. That could’ve been your face. Did he miss his shot? Is his aim that bad? Your vision is blurry due to the thick coat of tears, crystal clear and salty that trickle down like tiny diamonds.

“Money is not enough this time, sweetheart,” He coos at you, cupping your cheek and brushing your tears in a fake act of kindness. His pursed lips make your stomach twist. You never thought there’d be fates worse than death… but here you are. “I won’t kill you—” His words make your shoulder fall for a second as a smile dances on your chapped lips like the weak swing of a butterfly’s wings. “Yet.”

“What do you want from me?” You sob, placing your hands on your lap, not sure what to do with them. You are in no position to fight. You are under the mercy of a clear psychopath. Someone without morals, without ethics and values— under the claws of a monster.

The worst part? You don’t even know who is pulling the strings tied over the monster’s claws.

“Don’t be sad, sweetheart. I’m sure you will find it amusing— and if you don’t I don’t care,” If you weren’t begging for your life, his voice could’ve been attractive. Even his eyes. His fucking eyes that seem to pierce your soul. “You see that handle?” He points at the knife with his chin. “I want you to lift your cute nightgown and ride it. You can close your eyes and imagine a cock, I’m sure you’ve done it before from what I’ve heard about you. If I like the show, I’ll let you ride my cock— and if I don’t like it. I’ll kill you.”

“You cannot possibly ask me to—”

A small squeal escapes your lips when the muzzle of a gun comes in contact with your temple. The steel is frigid against your burning skin. There are no words left in your throat, if you weren’t terrified you would’ve thrown up.

“You don’t like to think, you don’t like to listen— I’m starting to believe you are actually stupid, princess. You either fuck that knife or die.” Your whimper. Irritating. Infuriating. Fucking lovely.

Lifting your hips from the bed, you kneel with the little strength you have left. Anakin never removes the gun from your temple, in reality, he presses it further, watching your skin dent slightly. Lifting your sheer nightgown, you clumsily hook your finger at the waistband of your panties, tugging them down with embarrassment.

“Please don’t make me do this,” You beg, losing balance momentarily as your panties hang from your ankle.

There is a storm echoing in his laugh. Like pouring rain falling over your heart before it even reaches your ears. “If you don’t do it, I’ll force you. I will enjoy it more… and then you’ll die.”

The flat tip of the blade handle feels like steel against your folds. The touch is feathery light, perhaps unintentionally gentle. You are glad there is a thick leather wrapped around it— otherwise, it might hurt even more.

Rocking your hips slowly, you close your eyes focusing on anything else. You will not enjoy this. You refuse to give him pleasure. If this is the way you die— at least you want to imagine you put up some kind of fight. Despite your constant thoughts— foolishly thinking your mind is stronger than your body— when the handle comes in contact with your clit, your body instinctively jolts. You stop. You don’t talk.

You don’t want to die. You don’t want to die, and you don’t want to enjoy it.

“Spread your legs wider and don’t stop moving. Don’t make me go there and open them myself,” His voice is low. “Show me how much you don’t want this.” His voice mixed with the adrenaline brings you to a borderline dizzy state.

Resuming your movements, you bite the inner part of your cheek, flinching when his free hand cups your breast. “See? Is not that difficult to obey. I know you are so used to getting your way, little princess. But not this time. Not with me.”

His thumb traces your nipple poking through the silk. You hate yourself for this— even more when you find a steady rhythm. Your clit grinds against the flat top and throbs, quickly begging for more. Hooking the barrel underneath the thin straps of your nightgown, Anakin lets them fall, exposing your chest.

“Don’t come. If you do, your tiny brains will make a bloody mess over your lovely canopy and walls. Now fucking ride it.”

The leather glistens with your arousal. It’s pathetic, humiliating, miserable. When you position yourself above it, when you flex your knees to fit it— that’s when everything you are— breaks.

The handle stretches your walls in a way that couldn’t be more uncomfortable. Your arousal helps but only much. Unhurriedly, you begin to ride it just like he commanded you to, just like you have to. Your pussy clenches around it, you can’t even fool yourself and think it is a dick. Nothing could help you now. No one can save you now.

“Seems to be you can listen sometimes…” Anakin observes, removing the gun from your skull to press it against the valley of your breasts. “Don’t think I can’t see how wet you are. Are you that deranged you are enjoying this?”

Are you?

Is he?

You just have to do this. Right?

Too many questions, no answers.

“Faster.”

Increasing your pace, the tears make themselves known again. You are enjoying it. Your walls are dripping, your pussy is begging for more. The slick sticks to the leather like a second layer of shine, the sounds your body is making are against your will— but you can’t stop moving. Anakin breathes loudly, his own excitement evident. You cannot see the outline of his erection underneath his black cargo pants but he feels it, throbbing, leaking, eager to bury itself in you. Hear you sob and feel you clench after every cry.

“So fucking wet,” He mumbles, pressing his lips against your sweaty neck. The soft cotton of his ski mask brushes over your skin, bringing you a nasty comfort. “Remember, if you come… you die.”

The muzzle now dances over your nipple, distracting you from the burn in your lower stomach for a second— when his hand finds your clit. Circling it quickly, roughly, Anakin exhales again right in your ear.

“I can’t wait to fuck you. I hope you are ready to die while I bury my cock inside you.”

A loud moan, mixed with a throat-ripping wail falls down your lips, body writhing and hips trashing. The handle is as deep as it can go, and before your vision goes white you feel the gun poking underneath your chin. Your hands curl around the hem of the nightgown you are still lifting, almost piercing the expensive and delicate fabric. Your orgasm is strong, it clouds your senses and for a moment the euphoria makes you forget how you just marked your destiny. The handle is sticky just like your thighs. The world is spinning.

Your life is ruined.

Just as your vision goes white, it goes black.

Monday. 10th.

Politics are known to be comparable to walking on thin ice. One false step and you sink— all the way to the cold and lonely bottom. Made only for the ones who can twist and turn others under their will and for those who aren’t scared of the nerve-wracking possibility of being a hero or a villain.

When your father offers you the vacancy for Campaign Manager you don’t hesitate to take the opportunity. Daddy dearest always serves opportunities such as these on a silver platter. Why would you refuse? Sure, a week before the presidential elections might be signing a death sentence, but why would you care? Even if you fall, your safety net is insured, secured and endorsed.

“Are you sure you can do this alone?” Natasha Andrews, your father’s assistant lowers her clipboard, focusing her dirty blue eyes on you from beneath her thin-gramme glasses. “We have a week before the election, these last days are crucial.”

“I’ll be fine!” You answer confidently. To have such confidence and naivety that being young gives you. You just feel invincible. “I read some of John’s final projects. A few venues and bookings won’t scare me.”

“I don’t think you are seeing the big picture here,” Natasha calls your name patiently. Removing her glasses, folding them and placing them next to her clipboard, you can already imagine a boring lecture about responsibility. You’ll be fine! “Your father has an image to maintain, a reputation to hold and the statistics are growing in his favor. This last week is to secure the win. Your father chose you for a reason.” Another way to say ‘There are high expectations. You better fulfill them.’

Huffing, you take her words as a weak attempt at an insult. You understand the big picture. You’ve been surrounded by the big picture since you can remember. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Natasha runs a hand through her ginger locks, taking a deep breath. She’s too old to deal with all this. “Look. I know you are young and I’m sure you have wonderful ideas for the campaign, but our time is limited. We can only continue with the schedule and hope for the best. If your ideas can be incorporated into the events then you are more than welcome.”

Always used to getting your way, you find baffling how someone who doesn’t know can defy you— or in your eyes, Natasha is doubting your capacities. Standing up, you point at her. Your manicured nail, painted a crimson red holds an almost accusatory tone. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone— not even your father. There is no chance of failure, because when you are young… you are on top of the world.

“No, you look. I know you are worried but I can do this,” You reply, not bothering to hide the patronizing tone in your voice. “My father knows I’m more than capable. You may not know me but you will. If I want to change the date of a venue, or if I want to make a goddamned pool party we will. I know what’s best, I know what will work.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow at your words, her expression hardening slightly. “I never doubted your… abilities, Miss. We have a schedule we must follow. Nothing personal. It is your first day in your position. Can you even name three key supporters of Jonathan's campaign? Have you planned a meeting with potential donors for when your father wins the elections?”

The assistant has a point, but you won’t give up. You will never lose a fight.

“Easy, everything you say is too easy,” You narrow your eyes, placing both palms on the desk to hide how they shake from frustration. “If I say the word, my father will fire you. It doesn’t matter how long you have been working with him. I’m his daughter.”

That’s your wild card.

And as usual, it works.

Sighing through gritted teeth, Natasha rubs her temple. How can an educated girl like yourself be such a despicable person? “Go on.”

The smile that brightens your face beams like flames. Threatening to consume everything on its way. Everything is easy when you have the influence. You were born with it, what’s wrong with using it? “Alright… key supporters….”

The redhead scribbles down as you talk, from all you know she is playing hangman with your face on the stick figure, not that you care, of course. Your mood heightens as she just listens and comments on trivial things such as locations and schemes. You knew it would be easy. You just need people that follow you.

“We can do the last meet-and-greet at Cafe Serenity. My father invested in the project and the owner owes him that. I’m sure if we present the petition he will accept,” You talk, tangling the wires inside your head. “I can schedule an interview with Channel 7, Global News Network, and Insider Globe, they do most of the coverage during the elections and my father knows the actionist in GNN…”

“The meet-and-greet sounds good. It’s the perfect strategy to calculate the supporters Jonathan has. Plus the media coverage will be wonderful,” Her jaw clenches as she talks, but you are too busy staring at your nails to see the daggers coming from her eyes. “You’ve got a good grasp on this.”

“I know,” You smile, ignoring the fake smile.

Suddenly, your phone rings. It’s an unknown number. A frown etches on your face as you pick it up. Excusing yourself from the table, Natasha nods, her blue orbs gluing to your back; if looks could kill…

Closing the door of the meeting room behind you, you bring the phone closer to your ear. “Hello? Who is this?”

Silence.

“Hello?”

A feminine voice breaks the silence. The unknown woman calls your name and your heart stops momentarily. It sounds vaguely familiar, and it carries a heavy accent that you can’t pinpoint from where.

“Lisseth? Is that you?” Your chirp echoes through the empty hallway. “I can’t believe you are back!”

Thank you for reading! ✩

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#ꨄ︎𓆪 anya's series!#hitman!anakin #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin smut #anakin skywalker fan fiction #anakin skywalker au #anakin x reader #anakin x you #anakin x reader smut #anakin star wars

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decepti-thots · 2 days

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while i'm talking about Whirl, one thing i've been meaning to talk about for ages just in a 'i am aware some people may not actually know this, and it hardly gets mentioned in fandom' is that Whirl in Interiors talking about briefly trying to change his name when he was a flight instructor at the flight academy is a reference to a passage in Bullets, which is in retrospect very obviously him:

Jetstream had taught him to recognize his inherent worthlessness. In front of the other cadets he'd always been supportive, but in private he would berate him for showing off and for getting ideas above his station. “You think you're something special?” he used to say. “You think you’re better than the rest, better than me, just because you can turn a few tricks? On a good day - on your best day - I’d say you were unremarkable.” Rotorstorm’s only response to Jetstream’s verbal abuse was to make jokes. If you can make light of the situation, he'd think, it can’t be as bad as it seems. Over time, Jetstream’s verbal abuse... evolved. On one occasion, Rotorstorm was pushed against a wall. On another, he was punched to the floor. Before long, he was on the receiving end of sustained and entirely unprovoked beatings. The worst day of Rotorstorm’s life - worse than the day war was declared; worse than the day of the Simanzi Massacre - was the day the IAA installed a Cryogenic Regeneration Chamber. He couldn't remember what he’d done to deserve that night's battering, but as he lay on the floor of the aircraft hangar, his torso freshly pummeled, his spinal strut bent at a right angle and his face reduced to a shallow bowl of oil and splinters, he saw something he would never forget: Jetstream was standing over him, fists clenched and head cocked, coolly appraising his options. And the look of exhilaration on his face as he wondered where to place the next punch had been terrifying. Rotorstorm had passed out before Jetstream had finished shoveling him into the CR Chamber, and had woken up the next day without a single scratch on his body. Jetstream had left overnight; he moved to a training facility in another province and later changed his name. Since then, Rotorstorm had seen him only once: he'd been sitting in the front row when Rotorstorm had been awarded the Novic Medal for Outstanding Valor, and he’d been clapping and cheering more loudly than anyone else.

and this is a really fascinating thing to consider for me because if you just describe the whole thing briefly in the abstract, it's gonna likely sound like one of two things:

whirl tried to turn over a new leaf with a new name, and it worked for a time but ultimately he couldn't and went back to his old life

whirl tried to turn over a new leaf with a new name, but he couldn't and was just as much of an aggro wildcard as ever so gave up

but this is... kind of not either of those, including the last one? whirl IS acting like the violent, bitter, unpredictable asshole we come to meet in MTMTE and know he was during the war, to an extent, but he's also clearly succesfully keeping up something of a facade of really inhabiting that 'not Whirl, nope, i'm a Normal Flight Instructor' in public. it's only to rotorstorm he's not, seemingly. (and even then, the way rotorstorm describes him here is... really cold and deliberate in a way that feels kind of different to what we see later.)

obviously it's. i mean it's SO deeply unpleasant, very effectively communicated in terms of how awful and traumatising that kind of thing is btw a+ but also Jesus Fucking Christ, but it also suggests to me a very specific experience Whirl is having in this period of his life that isn't quite either of those obvious choices. pokes at it. god. what the fuck is going through your head you terrible helicopter you.

#idw #rotorstom #whirl #meta

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lostbetweenvampiresandmusic · 3 days

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Could I get prompt 7 with a female tourist reader passing through Santa Carla with Marko?👀

7. I am freezing, can I borrow your coat?

Absolutely! I hope you like this, and thanks for requesting!💜

----------------------

In a city like Santa Carla, it was hard to truly stand out. Everyone was their own kind of crazy, and it took a certain something to truly stand out. That's why the town was such a haven for the undead, the unknown, and the unnatural. To stand out, there had to be something unique or special about them - at least for humans. For a vampire, it took less. A certain smell, a certain blood type - or the lack of all of these things.

Maybe that was why Marko had kept an eye on her all night, wondering why his eyes kept being drawn to her. She didn't smell any different than any other women around, she didn't have a rare bloodtype... no, based on scent alone she was just like any other women in the crowd. And yet - he couldn't quite put a finger on it.

I had noticed the stares he gave me, when I joined the crowds. When I went to a small concert at the beach, following the show up with a drink at a bar. Wherever I went, I felt his eyes upon me. And if I was being honest, it unnerved me quite a bit.

When I got out of the bar I saw him staring at me again, little over ten feet away. I took a small breath, deciding that this was it. I walked towards him, head held high, ready to tell him I was done with him being a creep when-

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!" An old woman had bumped right into me, holding what could only be described as a bucket that was once filled with ice cold water. I was totally drenched, shivering as the wind picked up. "You must forgive me, dear, I didn't see you-"

"Yeah," I waved her off, "sure. Don't worry about it." I stepped past her, frowning when I realised that the boy that had been staring wasn't there.

As I walked over the boardwalk, searching for the boy - or man, whatever his age was - I couldn't help but shiver. I was still wet, and the wind was only getting stronger. I couldn't stay like this much longer, and I decided to head in to the next restaurant to see if I could order some tea and some soup to warm up.

The only store that was still open is the Chinese restaurant at the corner of the walk, and with a small sigh I pushed the door open. The smell of rice and noodles hit my nose instantly. I went up to the counter, placing my order for a tea and some noodle soup when I saw him.

"You!" I looked at him. "You've been staring at me all night!"

"I have."

I blinked. He didn't even deny it. That was weird, right?

"Why?"

"You're different."

"Why?" I asked it again, sliding in the seat across from him.

"I don't know."

"I don't like being stared at. If I catch you again, I will -"

"You'll what?" He asked, sounding more curious than threatening. I shrugged slightly.

"I don't know, burn your eyes out, or cut them out or something."

He chuckled. "Then I'll make sure you won't catch me."

I glared at him, causing him to grin. He kept looking at me, taking me in.

"You're shivering."

I bit my tongue as I looked at him. He wanted to play all flirty all night? Fine, I could play that game too.

"I am freezing, can I borrow your coat?"

Now it was his turn to be taken aback.

"Bit forward."

"So is staring."

"It's different."

"It's not, though. I was serious about my question, I feel like I'm turning into an icecube here."

He sighed as he took his jacket of, handing it to me.

"I'm Marko."

I smiled as I took the jacket, putting it on. It was large and incredibly warm - I instantly felt better. When he told me his name, I decided I would tell him mine. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot here.

"Am I really that different?" I asked as the waitress brought me my tea and soup.

"It's mainly your attitude. I can't really describe it."

"But it's obvious enough to stare?"

"You looked back, though."

I nodded as I sipped my tea. "I did. Maybe I wanted to know who I was dealing with."

"What would you have done, if you hadn't been doused with water?"

"I'd probably would have yelled at you, called you a creep and depending on your response I might have hit you in the face."

"You had a plan."

I grinned at him, quite enjoying his presence. "Absolutely. Never go anywhere without it."

"So, what's your plan with my coat?"

"Hm," I thought for a moment, eating some bites of my soup, "I'm keeping it hostage."

"You're keeping my coat hostage?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"That way you have a definite reason to pick me up tomorrow evening."

I smiled at him causing him to laugh. Yeah, as unnerving as his staring had been, he was fun. The banter had been proof of that.

"Alright. How about I also drop you off tonight?"

"I wouldn't mind that. But I'm still keeping your jacket."

"I'll take it back tomorrow."

"We'll see," I grinned, placing some bills on the table and standing up. His order was called out, and he led me outside to his bike.

Marko grinned as he felt her arms wrapped tightly around him. He still wasn't sure what she was to him or why, but he knew that he wouldn't kill her. Something about her made it impossible to do so. Besides, he liked her company. As he drove through the streets towards her motel, he couldn't help but feel as if this was all somehow exactly how it was supposed to be.

#the lost boys #marko #david #paul #dwayne #tlb #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #star #the lost boys x reader

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the-somwthing · 2 days

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I gotta talk to people so bad so I’m just gonna spout something that’s been on my mind for a while

I see a lot of people always describing Joel and Scott’s rivalry as one sided. Like, Joel just hates Scott and Scott doesn’t care? And while I feel like that statement is technically true, it doesn’t really describe the situation very well.

It sort of implies that Scott’s never out to get Joel, and Joel is just coming after Scott for no reason. I won’t deny that Joel does like to come after Scott without provocation sometimes, but like… we are ignoring the fact that 3/5 Joel final deaths have been at Scott’s hand?

In two seasons, those kills were a result of a deliberate hunt to get rid of Joel specifically. In Last Life, I’ll give him a bit of a pass, since Joel did kind of start the fight with a big explosion and had been the “villain” for the entire season, it makes enough sense to try to end him like that.

But in LIMITED LIFE?? As a Joel viewer I am NEVER getting over the feeling of watching his final episode (not negative, just baffling in a way I find pretty fun lol). Scott randomly says “Joel needs to die” and everyone just agrees I guess? And then Joel is being witch hunted. “Oh but it’s because he was getting so many kills! Duh!” Grian had more. Grian LITERALLY got a quad kill (ON SCOTT FOR THAT MATTER) and Scott’s like “JOEL is the problem, the murderous evil of the server”. LIKE HELLO?? They’re literally allies, Scott could’ve said “we need to get rid of the bad boys” but he was COOL with Grian. He was letting Grian LIVE. Like HELLO??? WHAT DID JOEL DO FR 😭 Joel was literally just trying to survive btw, his fighting back was very defensive rather than offensive, and would back off when not being actively attacked. With the exception of trying to get kills cuz he was on less than ten minutes, of course. But Scott had been hunting him before then.

And then I guess I have to mention Secret Life’s Scott-Killing-Joel. I don’t think that final kill was especially targeted on either of their sides, the battle just turned out that way. I could rewatch to see if there’s more to it but for now this is how I see it.

Okay, I’m turning this into a full analysis of their rivalry, idc, I’m literally obsessed with their dynamic. I’m adding a cut here.

ALRIGHT WHERE WAS I. RIGHT. Finished explaining the final deaths, but there’s stuff before that! Let’s take a look at their rivalry 🥰

Let’s go in order, shall we? 3rd Life!! I am obsessed with them in this season ahahahhaga anyways. Joel comes after Scott unprovoked. Simple, this is how everyone sees their rivalry. HOWEVER. Joel is FULLY WILLING to work with him anyways. Maybe you could excuse the dark oak thing as it was early on and they were just trying to take down a monopoly. But in the finale they reconcile and spend much of the session together. They established early on that Joel had been trying to kill Scott, but they’re both perfectly happy to team up instead (which btw they did because they both happened to be allied with Scar).

Then Last Life. Joel does hate Scott in it, but I’m not sure I would say it’s without reason. Joel being boogey in ep2 was majorly important, and he killed Scott. But that wasn’t targeted. He had attempted multiple times to kill other people. Scott was one of the only (and closest) people who didn’t already know he was boogeyman. Then of course Scott tells Pearl they can fight back and has her kill Joel, sending him to red. Perfectly reasonable for all parties imo, and a good enough reason for Joel to target Scott seeing as being red early on had a huge impact on him.

Of course LL is also where Joel says Scott just looked at him funny one day and that’s why he hates him, which is a great line. I do believe he would bother Scott just for the rivalry, but unlike in 3rd Life, Scott had done things to make Joel never consider stopping.

Then Double Life. Erm. Literally nothing, except that I believe the only reason Scott and Pearl were the last pair is because Joel wasn’t there to kill them, since apparently he’s the only one who can make them lose lives. Wild. They were guaranteed to win ever since the lava portal trap. (obviously I’m joking but like how is he the only outside force to kill that pair). I will clarify for analysis sake that Joel’s first kill on them had nothing to do with Scott, and the second kill was to Scott but it was because of the life colors, not really anything about their rivalry. It was technically targeted at Scott specifically but not cuz he hated him, instead because Pearl had a weird “alliance” with the reds.

Then Limited Life!!! What the heeelll was happening lmao. I already talked about the final moment so before that. Erm. I’m blanking out I’m listening to bad romance it’s distracting me. You know what let’s move on I can’t remember what they did, the final death I explained previously is enough data for now.

Secret Life. Oh boy. I’ll say it again, I was secretly hoping for more Scott/Joel dynamic when it started but I doubted it would happen but we got FED!!! I was so excited when I saw the assassin task (as was Joel). Anyways. Throughout the season Joel was doing the whole hating Scott thing, Scott caught onto the bit and played into it somewhat by talking more about how Joel always hates him for no reason. We SHOULD be able to disregard Joel targeting Scott for the assassin task as it was a task, but to be fair after reading it Joel said “oh my gosh is this my dream?” He was super happy to be assigned to assassinate Scott LMAO. That has to count for something.

I feel like the rivalry was fairly obvious, so I need to point out the outlier moments in SL. While Joel goes on about how Scott should die, he happily trades with him and swapped gifted hearts with zero hesitation. In the final session, he and Scott ended up on the same side. I believe Joel may have been slightly annoyed at being on a team with him but accepts it nonetheless. The only reason Scott ends up killing Joel is because their team won, so they had to turn on each other. As previously stated it wasn’t especially targeted, it was a 2v2.

And then if you noticed from me saying 3/5 games, I’m not counting Real Life, but I’ll bring it up here. Scott literally says “since it’s real life we can be friends now since we’re friends in real life” (one of the many reasons I consider RL noncanon tbh, Scott literally mentions in-universe that this season is different so they can act differently, also what is the in-universe explanation for “friends in real life”). Aside from a reminder that Joel doesn’t actually hate Scott irl and this is just fun game rp stuff, this shows that Scott really did catch onto the rivalry bit, and really does just bring it up more. Joel had just arrived when Scott brought it up. Joel agrees to being friends in Real Life. This holds little relevance to my analysis since I don’t view RL as canon but you can keep it in mind.

Now that I’ve laid out their rivalry in a simplified summary, let me ACTUALLY analyze it! What did I mean all the way back at the start of the post when I said “Scott and Joel’s rivalry being one sided is somewhat accurate but I feel it misrepresents their relationship”?

Well, I believe it’s true that (at least up until Secret Life), Scott didn’t care about the rivalry while Joel did. But that doesn’t mean Scott never targeted Joel, as I said he’s witch-hunted him twice. It’s just it was never personal to Scott. I once saw a post(s) I really enjoyed, an analysis on Scott. Saying that he doesn’t actually value being loyal, he values being fair. Then there was the addition that it’s based on what he thinks is fair. I feel like this is 100% true for his thing with Joel. Scott views Joel as a force that has to be stopped, he’s gone too far, he needs to be stopped, it’s only fair for all the suffering he’s caused. He doesn’t stop to think about how killing is the whole point of this game, how other people are doing the same things, how many times he has killed Joel. Joel hasn’t killed Scott permanently before, he has killed him though, but not as much as Scott has killed Joel. To Scott, that doesn’t matter, Scott kills Joel for a reason, for justice, while Joel kills just for the sake of it. Whether or not that idea is true is up to you to interpret for yourself, but to Scott it’s true. Joel is more of a wildfire that needs to be put out than a rival.

Let’s look at Joel’s side of things. He does hate Scott and target him for no reason. The rivalry is one sided, where Joel sees a rival Scott sees some random danger that needs to be dealt with. I can’t tell you why Joel hates Scott. It’s not really the point of my analysis. I’ve seen ppl say it’s because of previous series they’ve had together (they’ve been rivals for ages!) but for my headcanons they don’t remember those, tho very few feelings from their past lives may linger, so perhaps that does explain it. For the sake of my analysis though we won’t be looking deep into why Joel likes to poke at Scott. It’s cuz he looked at him funny one day remember?

So we establish that Joel needlessly attacks Scott. But if you’ll notice from my summaries, he is fully willing to put aside that hatred. It’s conditional (yes it is the default, but still). If Scott treats Joel kindly, Joel will attempt to reciprocate it. Let’s look at this again:

3L: Joel targets Scott, Scott kind of just gives him a disapproving look every time and doesn’t fight back. Joel ends up feeling somewhat guilty, and in the end has no problems teaming up with Scott.

LL: Scott was the main cause of Joel turning red, Joel targets him constantly. Scott ends up permanently killing Joel to put an end to his madness.

DL: erm. Well it’s worth mentioning Joel never specifically targeted Scott for no reason. ALSO WORTH MENTIONING SCOTT BURNED THE RELATION??? This season was a bit of a switch-up. I need to rewatch to see if Scott had any good reason to do that lmao I don’t really remember, I hardly remembered he was responsible.

LimL: Scott deems Joel to be a server menace who needs to die, Joel (who doesn’t really understand why he needs to die) tries negotiating many times but Scott insists. He kills Joel.

SL: Joel gets task to target Scott, is thrilled. He fails miserably, losing people he cares about in the process. Vows to kill Scott, it’s like his main goal now. Still accepts every peace offering from Scott with little to no hesitation, to the point of eventually teaming with him until they’re forced to go against each other and Scott kills Joel again.

So basically you can see, every time Scott does something to wrong Joel, Joel goes hard on the rivalry, while if he doesn’t and offers peace, Joel will lay off. Secret Life was a weird middle ground, where Scott had done things to wrong Joel, however those things weren’t entirely his fault so when he offered peace to Joel, Joel would still accept. A confusing time for Joel I’m sure.

I will say a disclaimer here, I’m not saying Scott shouldn’t ever fight back against Joel. If he’s targeting you for no reason, it’s your decision if you’ll try to befriend him to make him stop or fight back. I support fighting back. I’m just saying that befriending him is a proven method to work, but I don’t think Scott has exactly noticed that and instead just assumes that Joel will stop at nothing to end him.

Another thing I wanted to talk about but forgot what the natural and intuitive transition into it was gonna be. Scott has permakilled Joel 3 times. Joel has permakilled Scott 0 times.

Joel had started the series off picking on Scott for no reason, and has never succeeded. Scott has won this battle three times. At this point, it’s honestly finally somewhat justified for Joel to come after Scott. That guy has specifically targeted and hunted him out of 2 seasons, and took him out of a 3rd as well. Joel has taken Scott out of 0. At this point, I feel like Joel needs that closure, to finally kill Scott, and who knows if he’ll ever get it. If you look at the fandom, even fans are hoping Joel will kill Scott because of this. So imagine how Joel feels! But obviously Scott wouldn’t just let him (okay. Well. Actually. It’s Scott. He kind of lets people do that all the time. But only allies…). Scott will be waiting for Joel to target him once more, and deal with it the way he always does. But who knows if it’ll turn out different?

Which reminds me that I pinpoint SL as the season Scott finally notices this “one sided rivalry”. We all know Scott loves drama, so when he finally noticed Joel had been hating him the whole time, he kept bringing it up. And it wasn’t just for SL only, he brought it up the moment he saw Joel in RL. I don’t count RL as canon but it does prove that Scott hasn’t let go of the rivalry now that he’s finally realized it. I don’t know if there will be a 6th season, but if so I wouldn’t be surprised if Scott brings up the rivalry. Idk if he would make it a big deal, but he would surely at least mention it.

Anyways, if you think I’m done with my little analysis, you’re wrong!!! I’m done with the things I see as pretty factual, but now we’re gonna get into more fanon headcanony type of territory!!!

…but, maybe I’ll make that its own post. Stay tuned and thanks for reading!

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