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djxrxn · 4 years

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the mediator

part one

reader x din djarin, paz vizsla, boba fett

part one, part two, part three, epilogue

warnings: cursing, mentions of violence, mentions of criminal activity, maybe a crude reference or two

wordcount: 4.4k

summary: A friend on Nevarro offers you a well-paying job, but you realize you might have bitten off more than you can chew when a Mandalorian you wronged is on planet - and in between you and your next paycheck.

a/n: okay Uh hi so welcome to the mediator lol. i’ve started school for the fall semester, everything for me is online, and i’m an art major, so Everything Is On Fire. in terms of the blog, i’m working on quite a few things so if there’s something you were looking forwards to seeing, or like a request you submitted, i have seen it don’t worry, it will be written i promise!! i can’t prioritize it all rn because classes are pretty demanding, but in the spare time i have, a Lot is in the works so !! exciting!! this fic has three parts and an epilogue, which i’m working on now!! also i absolutely have to thank @jangofctts who has let me bother her about this fic for a Hot minute she’s pretty much the reason it’s written she was very extremely helpful and was the best set of second eyes i could ask for thank u so much i love you!!!! okay enjoy!!

Maker, you hated Nevarro.

The terrain was rocky and… empty. There were no settlements or major cities - you were so used to the bustle of planets in the Inner Rim. Wealthy elites with deep pockets, neon and electricity carving a place into the long nights - it was more home than anything else had ever been. But here? It was a volcanic wasteland, the hot and sticky air wavering around you as you trudged through the gravel, making your way slowly to the only inhabited area on this shithole of a backwater planet. This was not home, it wasn’t even familiar territory.

Arrey was lucky you were friends with her.

You weren’t even sure what Ives had wanted - all you had received was a vague transmission about a job that was sure to pay well, as long as you stayed calm, conducted yourself in a civil and calm manner, that sort of thing.

“But,” the transmission had crackled, the soft baritone of Ives’ voice echoing around your cockpit, “You are the best with this sort of thing, Coins. I have no doubts.”

You scoffed when you heard the nickname. You thought you had finally left it behind, but here was Ives, bringing up that stupid nickname she gave you. She only used it when she had a job for you that would require some... finessing. It was concerning, but the last good job you had was a few bond skippers. You were low on fuel, and you were starting to dip into emergency resources. Ives’ high risk jobs usually set you up for a few months at a time, as opposed to the normal pocket change you got on a bounty.

Whatever she had in store, you could handle for a few credits.

The sun was setting behind you as you laid eyes on the poor excuse for civilization ahead of you, the vibrant oranges and pinks you were used to being represented by a growing dark haze. The small settlement - a town, a territory, a place to rest your feet for a bit - was just as dry as the rest of the planet. There were no buildings that were taller than three stories, and only a handful of ships were docked in the outskirts of town.

It would be easier to enter through a small side entrance. The front of the town would be crowded, even so late in the evening, and if you were on Mandalorian business, it was best to be subtle. You were annoyed at how familiar you were with the layout of the small town, annoyed that you knew the best way to approach the job already - even an Inner City scam job would have to be more interesting than whatever shit Ives was about to have you up to.

You slipped between the space between the two buildings, worming your way through the alley. Not much activity on the streets - you were sure that this whole planet closed up shop at soon as the sun threatened to set.

A noise of disgust left your throat as you laid eyes on the small market ahead of you. It was so… quaint. Only a few jawas and merchants were loitering around still. Even if you wanted a quick coin, you were sure that they would be much smarter than to fall for any of your schemes. However many credits it would take to get back to the Inner Rim would all have to come from Ives.

The fob gave a soft pip as you passed a stand selling spare droid bits. Metal screws and circuit boards all strewn about, a tan R2 unit beeping and chirping behind the table - the Chagrian repairing the droid gave you a glare when you passed him, but you hadn’t even noticed.

You were staring down at your wrist - a small bounty fob had been stitched to an old bracer. Wires poked out of the side, and you hadn’t been sure that it still worked. But it gave another small pip, and you couldn’t help but smile.

How many years ago had Ives Arrey given you that bracer, telling you to stick close to her on your first job together? She was much more prepared for a dangerous situation - she was quick on her trigger, ready to start firing at the drop of a pin. You’re sure that the only reason you made it out alive on that heist was how fast she was able to dispose of the other members of your team.

The fob’s beeps grew quicker and quicker as you walked through the settlement. Its little shrieks bounced off the walls and buildings. You turned a corner, following the beeps, and two gloved hands stopped you from crashing into the person in front of you. A gasp tore its way out from your throat - your hand flew to your blaster on your thigh, ripping it out of the holster and -

“Hey,” a soft baritone echoed through a voice vocoder. It was smooth and calming, and it carried a heaviness to it, like an old dark lullaby. “Relax, relax, it’s just me.”

You blinked. It was your friend but this… this was not the Ives you remembered. Her armor was dark, and had color to it - it was hard to see it in the night, but it looked like a bright green accent around the pitch black of her owl-like visor. The longer you looked at her, the more you saw the deep green that covered all of her beskar.

“You look… different,” you smiled.

“So do you,” she responded with a chuckle. “You changed your hair.”

After a shrug, you respond, “I was getting bored, but you look incredible - what, did they let you finally paint your armor?”

“Yeah, actually. I earned my signet,” she said. Ives gestured to her pauldron where a serpent was coiled up, baring its fangs.

“Wicked cool worm,” you teased, clicking off the fob around your wrist.

She punched your shoulder lightly. “Vexis,” Ives corrected. “It’s a Vexis, from Pasaana. Remember the job I took on Pasaana?”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember.” You rolled your eyes, but Ives huffed. Her visor tipped down in a Mandalorian glare.

“Hey,” she warned. Ives let out a little huff as you flashed a cheesy grin at her. “Maker help me, Coins ”

“Okay, okay.” You held your hands in surrender. “It’s a Vexus.”

“Remember that,” she said, turning on her heels and walking down the alleyway. It didn’t take much for you to keep up with her, her legs making smaller strides than yours did. Her cape fluttered around her ankles as she walked, and you couldn’t help but notice how Mandalorian she looked. She was…

She was intimidating.

“It’s a lot to take in, right?”

You nodded. She sighed and tugged on the edge of her glove. “Yeah, it’s still a lot for me too.”

“When did you get the upgrade?” The sun was completely gone, nothing but a small moon to show you how intricate the patterns on her armor was. Small leaves and vines had been engraved on her chest plate, a streak of yellow ran amongst every piece of beskar, and a small smear of red had been painted on under her signet.

“Actually, very recently,” she said. “A few days before, well, before you were needed.”

“Right, ” you hummed, “And that is...?”

Ives glanced over her shoulder “A very sensitive matter,” she whispered.

You huffed. Before you could even get out a comment, she continued, “That I will get to. I want to get a little bit closer.”

“Closer to?”

You were almost positive you could see her roll her eyes in the way her helmet tilted back and forth. “I’m going to need you to be a little more patient, please.”

“Ives, come on.” Your brow furrowed. You knew Ives to be careful, but this was being conservative with the details of your next paycheck. “And you’re being vague on purpose - just tell me-”

“I don’t want the wrong person overhearing,” she hissed.“ That’s all-”

“Well, well, well-” A Middle Rim accent sounded behind you, gentle and smooth. A long, armored arm crashed down onto your shoulders, and you were jerked back. “I thought I heard my favorite little criminal. I wasn’t aware that Coins stepped foot on planets that, what did you say again, ‘smelled like on fire ass’?”

You let out a small sigh of relief - you wrapped an arm around the willow torso you had been smushed up against. “Aw, Aeris, you know I couldn’t stay away from you for long.”

“Wow, I’m so honored you came all the way to see me.” You could hear the wicked smile coming through his vocal modulator. “But I know you don’t come to the Outer Rim unless you leave with heavier pockets.”

“You’re right.” It’s your turn to give a wicked smile. “I don’t.”

“So, who are you scamming this time?” He pinched your cheeks with his spare hand. “Stealing from children or widows?”

“Technically, Aeris she’s stealing from us,” Ives interjected. You gently punched his unarmored side, and he sagged on top of you with a dramatic groan.

“Mortally wounded,” he groaned. “And confused - how is she stealing from us?”

Ives paused, coming to a stand still - you almost tripped over Aeris’ feet as he mirrored her movements.

After a moment of silence, the only noise was the quiet night slowly coming to life around you, Aeris mumbled something in Mando’a under his breath after a moment, almost trying to fill the silence himself. When you looked up at his dark visor, he just shook his head.

You looked at Ives - her visor was pointed towards the ground, and she was picking at her glove again, tugging at the leather around her hands. You were familiar with these habits - you had seen Ives look at the ground and fidget with her hands hundreds of times before. She was carefully planning her next actions, quickly considering her options before she chose the best one.

She let out a low hum, and looked back at you.

“The leader of our Covert has given me authority to find a mediator to sort out a complication that arose on a job,” Ives said. “I’ve chosen you.”

You blinked. “Me?”

She gave a single nod.

“Sh-shouldn’t you find, I don’t know, maybe a Mandalorian mediator?”

“Our leader has explicitly forbidden any other Mandalorians interfering,” she explained calmly. “She wants unbiased and impartial help.”

“Even in negotiations?” You choked out.

“Oh, please,” Aeris chimed in, “Especially in negotiations. An outside perspective is supposed to be helpful.”

“Unbiased and extremely helpful, yes.” Ives added. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

“Okay, so I’m negotiating between a few Mando’s, what’s the catch?” You said, being tugged along by Aeris. Ives and Aeris both glanced at you for a moment before looking back to , neither bothering to voice what they were thinking until you continued.

“Why did you ask for me specifically?” You sighed. “And what’s the catch - if it were an easy negotiation, you could have contracted anybody in the Outer Rims.”

“Well, we do like a mediator with a sense of style,” Aeris said, nudging at Ives.

“Because I know you. I know what you’re capable of, and I know your specialties. You’re good with money, you’re good at finding a way to split it up-”

“Is this what this is about? You want me to split shares?” You groaned. “Maker, Ives, I could have done that anywhere, why did I have to come here-”

“It’s not as clean and simple as that,” she interjected. “There are three Mandalorians who need three even shares of a profit. The amount doesn’t split evenly, and all three are trying to argue that they deserve a larger portion of the credits that the others.”

You let out a short breath. “I still don’t see-”

“These Mandalorians are hostile, especially when there’s money involved.” She pointed at her signet, the Venus on her shoulder. “The Way mandates a base level of respect, but I’m afraid it’s not going to last for much longer - if someone doesn’t work this out, there’s a good chance it could get violent.”

“Let them fight it out, then. Whoever wins the fight, they get the credits - simple?” You suggested.

“Our leader has instructed us to further this out peacefully,” Ives shook her head, “As not to draw attention to us.”

“With those three di’kut, they’d start a whole galactic war over this shit, so it’d be best to keep things slightly subtle.”

“Don’t be an ass, Fenn,” Ives chided. She let out a sigh and didn’t speak for a moment, carefully chewing her next words slowly. “But Aeris has a point, they can be difficult-”

“See, there, I do have a point,” you didn’t have to see his face to know he had a smirk plastered across his face - you could practically see every emotion he felt through his arms, and his voice, and through the way he let little phrases of Mando’a out when he didn’t want anyone to know he was insulting them.

“Thank you, Aeris, it’s greatly appreciated.”

“These Mando’s really care this much about a job?” You mumbled. You apparently had a lot in common with them - you couldn’t say that you wouldn’t feel the same, but something wasn’t adding up.

Aeris shrugged. “Money goes a long way in the Outer Rim.”

“Maybe so, but how exactly did this job go down?” You asked. “I’m not really seeing an issue yet.

“I don’t know everything, but I know that Vizla and Djarin sort of bumped into each other on a quarry, which means they have to cute the profit in parts already,” he said, “But I have no idea where Fett came from, or how he got involved on the job-”

You let out a small choking noise, but Aeris continued on. “-So Djarin is pissed, naturally, because he’s out on cash, but if he thinks he can get away will all of the credits, he hasn’t met Vizsla.”

“Or Fett,” Ives added. “Which... Fett isn’t exactly known for letting money walk away.”

Aeris snorted. “Maker, Coins, you’re in for it.”

You felt like you’d been punched - the air in your lungs was stolen from you so quickly that it took you a moment to remember how to breathe in the first place. Your blood turned to ice. You felt fucking sick.

Fuck.

Fuck - fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I don't-”

Your mouth moved before you could fully think out the consequences of bowing out from the job. You would be out money, and time, and Maker, you were in the middle of fucking nowhere.

But if you took this job, you were pretty sure that the only thing you’d be walking away with was a hole in your chest from one of Fett’s rifles.

Or head. Or, fuck, probably both.

You cleared your throat. “I, uh, I don’t want this job.”

Ives snorted. “Alright, sure.”

You nudged Aeris off of you, and you planted your feet. You weren’t doing this, you couldn’t do this job.

“Ives, no. I- I can’t do this job- I won’t negotiate the shares, you’re on your own!”

Ives stopped. You hadn’t been aware that you were shouting, not until both Mandalorians turned to look at you. You swallowed - you could almost see the shock on their face through their helmets.

“We both know that you wasted too much money on fuel to turn around without something,” Ives said, her voice calm and steady. You wouldn’t expect Ives to actually shout back at you, but you couldn’t help the slightly guilt that tugged at you as she turned back around. “You need to work on your bluffing skills - quickly. They’re not gonna take any shit.”

“She’s right.” Aeris shook his head. “Since when are you bad at lying?”

They started walking again, boots stomping out a quick pattern, Aeris tugging you along by your arm, almost dragging you behind him, and you couldn’t fucking breath.

Boba Fett was cold and calculated. He was a fucking murderer - there was hardly job he didn’t follow through on, rarely a job he didn’t see finished. He took up a contract with the Empire, last official thing you heard, and then he disappeared for a few years.

Then, he reappeared, almost twice as ruthless.

You knew Fett - you only worked with him once, but you were close enough to hear the rumors that he had a personal vendetta against you. You knew that he was looking for blood, and you knew that if he was here on Nevarro, and if he knew you were here, you fucking knew you wouldn’t be leaving here alive.

“How often do you work with bounty hunters as notorious as our own Fett?” Aeris chimed, almost reading your mind.

“I- I think it's been a while,” you choked out. Your voice was trembling, they must have heard it. Aeris just cocked his head to the side, a sliver of moonlight catching on his black helmet. “But I guess it depends.”

“Depends?” He asked. “Oh, oh, of course. The money.”

His long arm curled around your neck, bringing your head closer to his torso. Aeris was limber and thin, but he was still capable of being dangerous. He was just as lethal as any other Mandalorian you were going to meet tonight.

“I almost forgot that you don’t do anything unless there’s a credit for you,” he said, his voice dripping with malice, the jab feeling like a threat. “Which, Arrey, why don’t you tell our friends here how much is at stake.”

Your stomach felt like it was twisting up into a knot. For the first time ever on a job, you didn’t even want to know about the credits - how much you were about to make, how much was being argued over it, none of it. You just wanted out.

Not that Ives would let you out, you supposed, but the less you knew-

“The bounty was for fifty-two million credits,” Ives answered. “Djarin said it was a high profile bond skipper - they had racked up thousands of millions of dollars-”

You didn’t hear the rest of Ive’s explanation. The only thing you could focus on was the rush of your blood. Your heartbeat was so loud in your own ears. The whole world faded away, slinking around you in a confusing sludge. The hot air was stifling you. It was too heavy, too thick. Your lungs couldn’t work with it, couldn’t filter through it - your chest felt light it might explode.

Fifty-two million credits.

You wanted to sleep. You wanted to close your eyes and let everything wash away. You could wake up on your ship, somewhere nice, somewhere you could get a nice breakfast. Maybe you could even find a good cup of caf. You could have a great day, and this whole shitty situation would be a distant nightmare.

Maker, you would kill to just wake up from all of this. If you fucked this up, forget Fett, you would have three Mandalorians on your ass. And if they were anything like Fett…

This was so far out of your realm of expertise. Even the job you worked with Fett was only for a couple of hundred-thousand credits. The most money you had ever worked for - acquired, earned, stolen, it didn’t matter. It was for one million credits. It was the job you met Ives on, the one where she saved your life, taught you how to rob a bank.

It was a pretty large heists for you - all you had known was petty theft and maybe a break-in, and even that was extremely rare. An old contact reached out to you, said he was trying to build up a team that wouldn’t mind cutting a few corners, and you certainly could look the other way for a few credits.

And so could Ives. You met her on Daxan IV - all grey beskar with chunks and bits missing. Old scraps of other armor had been fused into her chest plate, and her cuisses over her thigh was scraped and dented. The only pop of color was a dark green cowl that hung over her helmet, and even that was dark.

You remember making a snide comment about her bowcaster, and you remember her quietly throwing back something just as crude about how many layers you were wearing. At the end of the day, when the guns were pointed at you, that bowcaster had saved your life - Ives had saved you.

She was calm and collected in a firefight, but couldn’t handle the finessing and haggling that came with bounty hunting. You were a smooth talker, you were proud of that, but staying cool in a firefight…

You just had different priorities. Ives and you became a team, reaching out when the other needed a right hand woman for a job.

And you were grateful - Ives’ jobs were always well paying, but they normally came with a catch. One job she brought you along for was connected to the Rebellion, so the Imps were on your ass for months, one job was screwing up the numbers on a Hutt accountant’s book, one job was literally just fucking arson. There was always something - you didn’t think that there’d be something on this job, that maybe this would be the most straightforward job Ives gave you.

Well, here was the fucking catch - here were multiple fucking catches.

“Any other way you can raise the stakes, Arrey?” You snarked. Your voice sounded strained and high pitched. Maker, you wanted to at least appear like you knew what you were doing.

Ives cocked her head to the side. “Not that I can think of… Unless you have something to add, Aeris?”

You felt as he shrugged. “That’s more than I even knew.” He laughed - something short and dry, more out of cruelty than of pure humor. “Can’t wait to hear the deats when I get back.”

“Back?” You asked a little too quickly. You hadn’t seen either of them in quite a long while, and it would make you feel a lot better if they were right behind you for this entire mediation.

You could feel the little breath he let out, the small huff that made his chest expand. “Job off planet, Coins.”

You poked his unarmored sides, and leaned your head against him. “Try not to be a dumbass and get yourself killed, Fenn.”

He poked your cheek. “Only for you, chakaar.”

Ives gave him a nod as he removed his arm from you - his hand grazed your shoulder for a moment before he gave a nod back. Aeris tugged his hood over himself, the red streaks of his helmet disappearing beneath the dark wool. He turned the corner, and-

He was gone, and it was just Ives and you.

You waited a minute. Two, three, the minutes slugged along as you just waited.

“What did you do to Fett?” Ives asked quietly.

You blinked. “I- I’m sorry?”

“Aeris was too busy looking down your shirt to notice - or, maybe he didn’t even care, but you look…”

She studied you for a second, then shrugged. “You look scared as shit.”

Boba Fett had reached out to you - he needed an expendable worm who could steal, who could handle cutting corners, yadda yadda, what else was new? It was the same job description and employer type. The only thing that was different was that your boss was covered in beskar.

Job went south almost immediately. Another one of Boba’s associates sold him out to a New Republic squadron - Boba was busy handling that, but you had found the credits stashed in the lower haul, and you dipped.

Only one escape pod on the small vessel - you did feel a little bad, but it was Fett. He would probably be fine.

It was only a few days before you heard that he was looking for you.

He apparently wasn’t that serious about finding you. If he really was serious about it, you would’ve been hunted down and killed already. You head on a stake, your body on a pyre, that sort of thing. Maybe you weren’t Fett’s top priority, but you weren’t going to give him easy access to…

Well, you.

“We, uh, met on a job - like you and me, but, um,” you paused. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to tell her that you ratted out a member of her Covert - the last thing you needed, or wanted, was to cause an issue with Ives. “It didn’t go very well…”

Ives let out a low hum. “I assume you’re the reason for that?”

“Wh- me?” You let out a dramatic gasp. “I’m hurt - for your information, I am not the reason the job didn’t go as planned.”

“Oh? So what’s the reason for you being terrified at the mention of Boba?” Ives put a hand on her hip. When all you did was shrug, she clicked her tongue.

“Well, hopefully he’s forgotten what you’ve done to him by now.”

“Does he- is Fett the forgetful type?” You asked, a glimmer of hope appearing in this ridiculously shitty situation.

She shrugged and gestured to the door to your side - it was rather simple and weathered. “For your sake, I hope so.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Ives, I don’t know-”

“Coins, listen-”

She took a step towards you and gripped your shoulder. She rested her head against yours, and as you peered into the inky visor, you almost felt calm. Like maybe, you weren’t quite alone.

“Hit the fob if there’s trouble, just like always,” she said softly. “I’ll be right outside this door if you need anything, but Djarin and Vizsla should be a buffer between Fett and, uh… you.”

You placed your hand on top of hers and gave a small smile. “Thank you, Ives.”

“You’ll be fine,” she nodded. “Now, go in there, and get your paycheck.”

You nodded and you stepped towards the door. Ives tapped in a short string of numbers on the keypad. The door slid up, the cool air from inside seeping out to meet you - it was tempting, but you couldn’t forget what else was in the room besides air conditioning.

You peered into the room - and inside were three Mandalorians, whose helmets all turned to look at you.

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sonicgetsrawed · 4 years

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The Prince and The Butler

So the lovely Lilac, lilaciiio on insta, has this wonderful prince var/butler Hugo au that I absolutely adore and so I needed to write something for it!! All credit goes to her brilliant brain for coming up with this fantastic au!!! Enjoy y’all!!!

Varian tapped his pencil against the table, his chin resting in his free hand as he stared out the window, not at all paying attention to the lesson in front of him. Another gloomy day, another boring lesson. He couldn’t wait for it to finally be over so he go back to his lab and-

“Your grace.” Varian blinked, letting out a hum as he dragged his eyes from the window and to his very annoyed tutor. “You must pay attention to your lessons. It’s important that you learn these things if you are-“

“If it’s so important then why is the equation wrong?” Varian asked, tilting his head innocently to the side. He smirked as his tutor sputtered, quickly flipping through the various books to check his work. Varian’s smirk turned into a smile as he heard a familiar snicker from behind him. He turned in his seat, his smile widening as he spotted Hugo in the doorway holding a tray of food in his hands.

“Your mid afternoon snack, your grace.” Hugo said, sliding the tray onto the table, his hand lightly brushing Varian’s. Varian glanced up at him, nibbling at his bottom lip as Hugo winked, his hand lingering just a moment longer. Varian’s eyes darted back to his tutor, the man turned away. He grabbed Hugo’s hand, taking advantage of the small moment of privacy. Hugo smiled back, running his thumb over the back of Varian’s hand before letting go. “I hope your grace enjoys his meal.”

And with that Hugo was headed towards the door again, leaving Varian alone with his stuffy tutor and the food he didn’t even want. For some reason his father thought he wasn’t eating enough, often sending him snacks at random times of the day. He appreciated that his father cared, but sometimes it was downright suffocating, he was capable of making his own decisions. If he was to be king one day he needed to be trusted to make his own decisions. Moon above, he didn’t even want to be king. He would be happy just living a quiet life doing alchemy all day, but unfortunately fate wasn’t on his side. Varian slumped in his chair, idly moving the various fruits around the plate. He just wanted out of here, just a moment of peace.

He glanced back up to his tutor, the man still checking over his work. Varian tilted his head, a smile playing at his lips as he got an idea. “Since you seem to be having some difficulty, I think it may be best we call it a day.”

“With all due respect-“

Varian held up his hand, giving a slight shake of his head. “No need to thank me and don’t worry I won’t tell my father of your incompetence.” Varian said, running out the door before his tutor could argue. He easily rounded the corner, his smile returning when he spotted Hugo a ways down the hall. The older leaning against the wall.

“I knew it was only a matter of time before you ditched class.” Hugo chuckled, not missing a beat as Varian grabbed his hand and pulled him into a run.

“Let’s get out of here.” Varian said, expertly leading them down the twists and turns of the castle as they avoided castle staff. Until they finally burst out a pair of giant double doors, stumbling into the gardens. Varian didn’t stop then dragging Hugo along until they arrived at a secluded alcove. Hugo leaned against the wall, his chest heaving as he worked to regain his breath, but Varian didn’t give him a moment of rest slamming their lips together in a rough and needy kiss. “I missed you.”

Hugo cupped Varian’s face, running his thumbs over the freckles on his cheeks. “I missed you too, sweet cheeks.”

Varian leaned into the touch, a soft smile working its way onto his lips. It had been too long since they had any alone time together and it was driving Varian insane. Granted their relationship wasn’t actually allowed, but it didn’t make it any less real. Hugo was the only one that understood him in this world of fake people, lies, and politics. He was a breath of fresh air and while he knew they could never be he wasn’t willing to let Hugo go. He’d risk everything for him and he was certain Hugo would as well. Hugo was the only one that knew the real Varian, and Varian the only one that knew the real Hugo. He just wished they didn’t have to hide their love.

Varian claimed Hugo’s lips again, pressing softer kisses to his lips over and over. “Let’s run away together, just me and you. We can find somewhere peaceful, no responsibilities, no expectations, just the two of us happy together.” Hugo said, wrapping his arms around Varian, holding him tightly as if he were afraid to lose him.

Varian returned the embrace, snuggling into Hugo’s chest, his ear resting where he could hear the steady beat of his heart. He was content to stay like this forever, but he had a duty to his kingdom as much as he wished he didn’t. “That sounds wonderful, but I can’t. I-I can’t abandon my people, my home, my father. Hugh, I love you but-“

“Duty comes first. I get it. I just wish we met under different circumstances. I love you, Goggles, no matter what, please remember that.” Hugo said, his voice almost pleading, like he knew something. Varian pushed the thoughts to the side, Hugo wouldn’t lie to him, he wasn’t like everyone else that used him for his status. Hugo loves him for him. It’s what had drawn Varian to Hugo, he was brutally honest and didn’t care for status. Hugo gently lifted his chin, claiming Varian’s lips again. The kiss longer, wanting, lingering. It was almost as if they were saying goodbye, and they very well could be. If they were caught Hugo would likely be sent away and Varian would probably be locked away in a tower until his coronation whenever it may be. He didn’t want it to end, he never wanted it to end. Hugo pulled away, slipping out of Varian’s arms as he took a few steps back. “We need to be more careful. We could get caught.”

Varian nodded, already missing Hugo’s warmth. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have been so reckless. I just miss you is all.” Varian said, keeping their hands interlocked despite the new distance between them.

“Unfortunately you’ll have to do without me for a bit.” Hugo said, placing a gentle kiss on Varian’s knuckles. Varian’s eyebrows furrowing together in confusion at his statement. “I’m being sent away to deliver a package tomorrow. They must be really sick of having me around the castle. It shouldn’t take more than a few days though.”

“I can handle that.” Varian sighed, already missing Hugo even though he was right in front of him. Hugo just made everything easier, he could be himself without judgement. It was nice. It just made adjusting back to the regulations of society harder. Varian groaned having completely forgotten about the ball tonight. Apparently the princess from Corona was visiting and they were throwing a ball in her honor. It seemed he’d have to adjust sooner than he’d like. “Please tell me you’re still going to be at the ball.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss the chance to see you all dolled up and tripping over your own two feet. I’ll just be the idiot in the corner handing out horderves and laughing my ass off.” Hugo teased.

“I’ll be the one laughing my ass off when you try to dance.” Varian shot back, swinging their hands slightly.

“Oh, I’m not dancing.” Hugo laughed, his voice ringing throughout the quiet garden.

“Yes you are. You wouldn’t deny your prince, would you?” Varian said, a playful smile on his lips.

Hugo pulled Varian flush against his body, hooking his finger under his chin. “Of course not. So tell me, what is it that your grace desires?” Varian’s heart skipped a beat at Hugo’s lowered voice, all his want and desire in the sound alone. The distance between them closing once again. Varian let Hugo guide him as his eyes slipped closed, Hugo’s breath hitting his lips. Their lips nearly touching.

“Varian!” Varian jumped around the sound of his father's voice, instinctively pushing Hugo away from him. Hugo let out a grunt as his back collided harshly with the wall, Varian shooting him an apologetic look and gesturing for him to follow. He hated how his back straightened, his posture becoming more rigid, and most of all he hated how Hugo fell behind to the appropriate distance from him. It was a terrible reminder of their status, the roles they were forced to play, when all he wanted to do was walk proudly with Hugo at his side, their hands interlocked. He was sick of hiding. After the ball, after Hugo returned from his assignment, he’d talk to his father. If the princess of Corona could marry a thief why couldn’t he marry a butler? His face flushed at the thought, he’d never really thought about marriage before, but the longer he spent in Hugo’s company the more he never wanted to leave it. They could be happy together, each other’s forever, at least then this world would be bearable. “Varian!”

Varian sighed, soon everything would be okay. He just had to hold on a little longer. After the ball everything would be perfect.

#tangled the series #varian #hugo #varian/hugo #varigo #varian and the seven kingdoms #prince varian #butler hugo #fluff #fluff before the storm

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volganic · 4 years

Text

Song of the Mountain

i really cant help myself from writing everything out all at once tbh but liz is really such a great motivator 🙏

[part 1]

Volga had only ever eaten the people that were foolish enough to fall prey to his voice. The disorientation of the blazing heat combined with panic of being lost in a literal hellhole made it all too easy to capture wandering travelers. Needless to say he had built a reputation for it and anyone with a lick of common sense would know to stay away from within the caves if they had managed to sneak past his kin -- but that still didn't stop those who were brave or just plain stupid.

This boy was not stupid. Not at first glance anyway.

The dragon knight took three long strides toward the green clad hero, blatantly ignoring the tip of the sword pointed right at him. Despite the look on his intruder's face, Volga could see that the white blade was shaking in his hold. He pulled Link closer to him by the base of the blade with a clawed gauntlet, nonplussed by the fact that he allowed himself to pulled in with him. A gasp left the hero's lips as he lost his footing for a second before he was unceremoniously knocked onto his back with a heavy kick, now left unarmed with his blade tossed to the side and out of reach.

Volga towered over the boy as he scrambled to pull his shield over himself. He dropped an armored foot on the center of the polished steel, effectively pinning him into place. Link hissed at the immense pressure put on his arm and midsection, silenced by the tip of his spear pointed between his eyes. The heat had seeped back into him as he began to sweat bullets in fear for his life with being taken down so easily and under the dragon's scrutinizing gaze. He could hear how his breathing had quickened as he looked between Volga's unreadable features and the end of the spear.

Another startled gasp was ripped out of his throat when Volga's claws caught his chin, armor sizzling hot against his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut half expecting the victor to crush his jaw or mercilessly kill him. That's what dragons do, right? Even with his eyes shut, he could feel Volga's stare boring right into the center of his soul. He laid stiff in his hold as his head was turned from one cheek to the other.

"You are truly the hero reborn," Volga purred when the boy finally opened his eyes. Clawed fingers slipped underneath Link's lips, prying his mouth open with protest. "With no bite, and even less teeth it seems," he chuckled as he pulled his fingers away, ignoring the coughing that followed. "You are foolish to think that you could have taken me down without so much as anything to shield you from this heat, boy. You have not listened to the fables well enough."

Link took a deep breath of relief as he was freed from under the weight of Volga's foot and spearhead no longer pointed in his direction. The sound of the other's footsteps retreating gave him the moment he needed to collect himself. His lungs burned with strain and the back of his head met with the ground, cap tossed and forgotten. A million questions were running through his mind: Why was he spared? Why didn't the dragon kill him when he had easily taken his chance? Why, goddesses, why didn't he bring anything to protect him from fire? He was coming after a dragon for goodness sake! The goddesses were cruel for giving him this so-called blessing -- were they testing him?

He barely could sit up before a piece of heavy fabric hit him in the face. He pulled it down and held it out at arm's length with an incredulous expression. Volga snorted as he came back into Link's line of sight. "If you have half the brain I expected the hero reborn to have, I would suggest you put it on. It will keep you save from the fires," he said flatly, mirroring the scowl that Link was giving him. "I dare not fight against someone who is ill-equipped; I have a code of honor that I choose to live by, whether you so choose to believe it or not."

So that's why. Link held his stare at the dragon for a minute longer before he slowly nodded his head in thanks, looking back down at the tunic he was given; ruby in color and very similar to his own. Volga took a seat to study the hero in silence, watching him as he stood up and worked in shrugging off the shoulder guard and scarf to peel off the green tunic from his body. How he managed to survive this long in the Eldin Caves with little to no protection from its severe temperatures was admirable, but still foolish as he eyed the stains of sweat underneath the layer of chain mail.

"Why is it that you have come to challenge me, boy?" he asked, rising to pick up the abandoned blade. He rolled the hilt in his claws, seemingly unimpressed. "You are ill-equipped, inexperienced, dehydrated, and armed with nothing but a poor excuse of a sword. This is a step-up from a simple soldier's sword, but a pitiful sword nonetheless. What did you expect to achieve?"

Link threw him a cold glare in response as his fingers smoothed out the red tunic. He brought his hands up to begin signing. "I've been sent by the princess to investigate your intentions. What are your underlings doing attacking the villages below the mountain? Your 'code' wouldn't allow you to attack the helpless, so why are you killing them? What good are you doing them?"

"I am neither good nor evil," he snarled. "I am not killing them, nor am I sending my fellow kin to attack them. I have yet to be brought back a corpse from anything other than livestock. Contrary to the fairy tales, I choose not to eat humans." Volga stepped closer to offer the blade back to its owner. "I am Volga, guardian of the Eldin Caves and Death Mountain, and alike the villagers, I too am a victim of an attack. I have no choice but to make sure that my kin are safe, so they in turn can keep those fools occupying the villages below safe."

The hero strapped his blade back into place with a confused tilt of his head. The dragon was being attacked? "How so? Attacking villages doesn't sound like you're keeping them safe. Who is attacking you?"

"A witch." Volga's features darkened as the words left his mouth, a foul taste on his tongue. "She seeks to start a war with my assistance. I have no interest in partaking in any war and declined her offer. She was no match for my army and retreated, but not before taking out our source of food. A poor tactic, but effective enough when it comes to having an army that relies on it strength in numbers. Ravenous reptiles are difficult to lead when they are starving." The knight dug underneath one of the straps around his chest plate, brandishing a silver ring with a large blue jewel. "I am also inclined to believe she was after this ring. Without it, there is no start to any war."

Volga drew Link's attention away from the cursed artifact by curling his claws around it tightly. "Its new home will soon be the pit of lava at the peak of Death Mountain. The fires are hot enough to expel whatever curse this ring holds." There's a moment of pause before the knight folded his arms across his chest. "If there is nothing else you need, then leave my domain."

"Your people are still attacking villages!" the hero signed, unsatisfied with the idea of leaving the caves with unfinished business. "You need to tell them to fall back and leave. The people are struggling prior to your forces coming in and invading their homes." Link chose his next words carefully. He couldn't risk starting a war of his own, especially in the middle of a cave that nearly killed him. "Perhaps if I talked with the princess, we could come to an agreement--"

"My allegiance cannot, and will not be bought." A low rumble worked its way out of Volga's chest to make his point clear. "I protect nothing more and nothing less than my own kin and those who know their place. Your princess has nothing I desire. I have no quarrel with your army. Leave."

"Not until I know that the people below your mountain are safe! They know their place, and is it not your duty to protect them?" Arguing with a force such as Volga was starting to wear him down; fighting him in a duel of arms would have been easier than this. "If this continues, then the Hyrulean army will be forced to step in. We do not want to go to war with you."

The tension in the air was nearly suffocating. The hero wasn't burning to the temperature in the caves, but the malicious glare the taller knight was giving him would have killed any lesser man in fear. He knew he couldn't return to the castle with news that their neighboring villages were soon to be destroyed. He also knew Volga had no interest in fighting a war. Determination kept him in place as he mirrored Volga's posture.

After an eternity of silence than the faint sound of scratching echoing off the walls (were the dinolfos back?), the dragon knight relented with a long exhale. If Link knew any better, he would've sworn it looked like smoke. "Very well. My kin will retreat. With the amount of livestock they have collected, perhaps we could survive until the next full moon. Our sources should be replenished by then."

Link blinked a few times in disbelief to make sure he had understood him correctly. When the dragon relaxed his posture in defeat, the hero beamed. "As a show of good faith, we will call them back immediately."

"We?"

A garbled noise left the Hylian's throat as a searing heat cut through the air near him. He was mostly unharmed thanks to the tunic, but it didn't hide the absolute surprise in his eyes as a fully grown dragon now took place where the man he had clashed with had stood. This... this confirmed the stories. The dragon could take tongue of man -- it could also take on the form of one too! It towered over him as Link stood frozen in place, at a loss for words. It was a real dragon!

He was pulled out of his thoughts as the reptile plucked him off his feet by the back of the tunic with its beak. There was no time to protest or scramble out of the caught clothing before they took flight out of the crystal caverns. Link braced himself and pulled his limbs as close to himself as he could as the dragon weaved between the tight tunnels. The wind and few stray pebbles of stone lashed at his skin. The wave of blues and oranges that creeped on the ends of his vision soon turned dark, prompting Link to finally open his eyes. They were no longer inside the caves but now they were airborne in the night sky, soaring up the steep mountainside of Death Mountain.

Volga must still hold some spite against him for having his ego challenged as the dragon held him closer and closer to the ground, threatening to scrape his body against the rock. Link would have to remember not to do that again. The pair reached the peak as quickly as they had taken flight. Volga released his grip on the hero's clothing and dropped him unceremoniously on the flat rocks as he lowered himself down to the ground, slowly the flap of his large wings. Link stood up in a huff and glowered at the dragon. He looked awfully smug underneath his silver helmet as he turned to peer over the edge of the cliff to the villages below.

Link barely had time to brace himself before the ear-piercing screech shook the top of the mountaintop they occupied. Volga's claws ripped through the earth underneath him as fire threatened to spill from his gaping maw. The roar was enough to silence the entire province, if not even the entirety of the world. He wasn't sure when the sound had ended, ears left abuzz from the deafening cry. Volga had nudge him with the tip of his snout to bring his attention back to over the mountainside. To his surprise, he saw flocks of shadowy figures scurrying back to the entrance of the Eldin Caves.

A small laugh left his lips. He did it. The villages were spared, and he proved himself that he was capable of taking on an impossible mission. A smile splayed across his lips as he turned to look at Volga, finding him occupied with digging with the odd chain around the base of his neck. The glint of a certain blue jewel between the dragon's teeth reminded him that this was their declaration at peace. The Hylian cautiously approached when he was acknowledged to come forward. He held his palm open, gifted with the honor of tossing the cursed artifact into the pit of magma behind them.

With no time to second guess his options, Link tossed the ring into the bubbling lava, satisfied with the splash it made. The pool sizzled where the ring was thrown and exhausted a plume of purple smoke. Volga hissed lowly in approval; the fires indeed have exiled the curse of the ring, reducing it to metal. With some hesitation, Link warily placed the palm of his hand against the side of the dragon's snout, nodding in a small thanks. The dragon snorted at the gesture, pulling away quickly before making quick work to pick the boy up again. If this was his way of saying "you're welcome", Link would have kept his appreciation to himself he thought as they made their way back down to the mountain.

At least this time, they weren't flying.

---

"The villages haven't seen any sign of any lizalfos or dinolfos for some time since you've returned," the Sheikah commented, clapping the hero's back. "Well done."

Link frowned as he brushed the dirt off his face. It had taken him a full day's journey to return to the castle from the caves, and he still looked less than polished with leaves in his hair and mud staining his red tunic. Good word had spread among the soldiers, their morale having gone through the roof knowing that the dragon was no threat.

Zelda nodded in agreement with Impa, but her smile died on her lips. Her expression hardened. "Please, go on. What is this about a witch?"

The hero sighed heavily. He brought his hands up to sign, but was interrupted by the familiar chime of his fairy.

"Let him rest! Surely he's deserved it, no?"

Link gave a stiff nod before acknowledging the general.

"Next time, send a negotiator. Diplomacy isn't my thing."

#hyrule warriors #volink #fic #part 3 eventually...................... soon

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daydreaming-nerd · 5 years

Text

Home...(Kylo Ren x Reader)

This was suppoested to be soemthing totally different but as I kept writing it turned into this so I hope you all enjoy it still! Please send in requests!

It was never supposed to end this way. Not at all. It started when The First Order set up a base on the same planet as a rebel base, Endor. I remember being in the control room when I saw tie fighters landing on the other side of the planet. It would take a while for both forces to collect themselves to start a war. Somehow, for the most part, it was safe.

Every day when I needed a break from the cramped control room I would throw my hair on a bun and put on my helmet to hide my face and venture out to explore planet Endor. I had done this so many times, every time nothing new, but today was different. As I trudged through the weeds and over fallen trees I heard a rustling in the distance. I placed my hand on my lightsaber and prepared to strike. I waited in anticipation to see what I would be facing. A black cloaked figure stepped out from behind a bush, when he saw me he froze and my heart stopped beating. It was as if I was staring death in the face. A masked Kylo Ren stood before me.

The shock wore off and my body chose fight over flight. I charged towards him and ignited my lightsaber swinging right for his head. He blocked it with the help of his own lightsaber and from there it was a full-blown battle, one I would never be skilled enough to win. Most of the fight was me defending his blows. I knew if I could graze him enough to hurt I might be able to outrun him. With that, I dove between his legs, stood up and burned his arm with my blade. As he screamed out in pain I started running for all I was worth. I only got about 20 feet away before I felt something lift me in the air and throw me against a tree knocking my helmet off and taking my hair out of its bun allowing it to cascade down my face.

I turned around to see if he was still pursuing me but the second I saw him his whole demeanor changed. He dropped his lightsaber and it automatically turned off.

He reached for his helmet and hit a button. It made a hissing sound before it finally came undone and he took it off. I was expecting a distorted face or at the very least an ugly old guy. Instead, I saw a man about my age maybe a little older, with soft black hair and inviting brown eyes. The most handsome man I had ever seen.

“You’re a woman,” He stated blankly.

“Yes,” I said still afraid for my life.

“You’re close with Leia,”

“Yes,”

“I’ll spare you,”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I ran for all I was worth back to the rebel base.

All that night I couldn’t get the image of the feared Supreme Leader of the First Order taking his helmet to show a Rebel girl he meant her no harm. I couldn’t get over the beauty that mask hid from the world? What had he to hide?

The next morning I awoke and realized I had left my helmet and lightsaber in the forest and made it my first mission to retrieve them. As I hiked through the forest I began to replay the events of yesterday for the thousandth time. Brown eyes still staring into my soul, an unsaid connection stuck in every fiber of my being.

I finally got to the setting where it all took place. Dusting off my helmet and getting ready to put it on I heard a voice from behind me.

“Don’t put it on,”

I stopped right then and there knowing exactly who it was. I turned to see Kylo Ren without his helmet, this time I wasn’t fear-stricken.

“Why?” I replied.

“If it’s not too much to say I find you too beautiful to be covered up with that dirty thing,” he said walking towards me. “I came to give you this,” He held out my lightsaber.

“Thank you,” I said shyness in my voice. He turned to walk back to his base. “Why were you hear yesterday?” I said breaking out my comfort zone.

He turned to face me again. “The base can be overwhelming at times. I come out here for some fresh air and to think. You?” He said sitting on a log.

“Same here, it gets so cramped and muggy in there I need to step out daily,” I said walking towards him. I was almost there but I tripped on a rock that was stuck in the ground. I thought surely I was going to hit the ground but I felt two strong arms grab me. I looked up to lock eyes with the brown orbs I had dreamed of the night before. “Though I’m not quite sure how my clumsiness hasn’t left me out here for dead yet,” I said trying to lighten the mood.

He smiled first and then a small laugh escaped his lips. All the sudden I was at ease.

“Did the mighty Kylo Ren just laugh?” I asked in shock as I sat beside him on the log.

“I suppose you did,” He said still smiling.

We must’ve sat on that log for an hour talking about anything that came up. He ended by saying that the great Kylo Ren was much more than people take him for, but it was something I had come to find true long before the words left his lips. It was getting late and just before we were about to retreat to our bases I turned around and spoke one last line to him.

“You know if I’m going to be out here every day it might be nice to have some company,”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow,” He said with a smirk and began walking away.

“But what time?” I called out.

“Just come, I’ll know when you’re here,”

I wasn’t quite sure what he meant, but I just shook my head and started towards the base.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Two or Three months had gone by and the Supreme Leader and I had become closer than I had ever imagined. Over time I began to feel more and more detached from the resistance. Perhaps it was because I had fallen for the young ex Jedi. There was something unsaid between us, but I didn’t dare make the first move.

Today was a little different. I had told Kylo the previous afternoon that I would be arriving much later than I normally do because of the ball that was being held in honor of Princess Leia’s birthday. I told him as soon as it was over I would be heading to our secret area in the woods. I was riding on a speeder through the forest as to not damage my floor length dress that was navy rhinestones from head to toe, which by the way looked amazing reflecting the light of the full moon. Coming to a halt on my speeder I swung my leg over the side and heard the sticks below me. I looked over to see Kylo standing up from his space on the log.

“Hi, sorry I’m late again,” I said walking toward him.

“You’re breathtaking,” He said staring at me with stars in his eye.

“Well thank you Commander, I did the best I could with what I had,” I said referring to my dress doing a twirl.

“I’m sure your feet are tired from having to dance with all those poor excuses for men all night, allow me” And with that, he swooped me up bridal style causing me to giggle.

“Quite the opposite! The ball was an absolute bore! I sat at a table the whole time and watched everyone dance! Not a single man asked me to join him on the dance floor, not that I would’ve accepted. In fact, I left early to come see you,”

“Not one man asked you to dance?” he asked confused.

“Nope,”

“They must be intimidated by your beauty,” He smiled and then stood up in front of me. “I too am intimidated, but I can’t let my favorite girl go through the night looking as amazing as she does without so much as one dance.”

I took his hand and we began dancing. There was no music, just the sound of our feet on the forest floor and the ambiance that came from around us. My head eventually gravitated to his chest and I heard his heart rate pick up.

“I wish you could’ve been there tonight,” I spoke

“You deserve to be danced with y/n,”

I pulled him closer as if it was even possible. I waited a few moments to decide if I really wanted to say what I was about ot say.

“Sometimes I wonder if my place is really with the Resistance,”

“Well you always have a home with The First Order,” He chuckled thinking I was going to stay loyal to my roots.

“Do you mean it?” I asked looking up at him. He was a bit taken back at first but then he replied.

“Yes of course I do, you’ll always have a spot open by my side,”

“And what about in life? Do I get to stand by your side for that too,”

“Y/n what are you try-”

“I love you Ren. I always have ever since that day you handed me back my light saber. I wanna stand by your side in the first order. I want to rule the galaxy with you.”

As I said these things he was in shock, but moments after he took in all I had said he put his hands on my waist and hoisted me up and spun me around.

“I love you y/n,” he said setting me down and bendin his knees so we were eye to eye. “I didn’t want to say anything because I was too scared to lose you.”

I giggled at his child like manner. He put his hands on either side of my face and placed his god like lips on mine. This was a kiss long awaited. To be honest a kiss that turned into a makeout session. We pulled apart and her wrapped his strong arms around me placing kisses on top of my head.

“I love you so much, I can’t beleive you’re actually mine,” he said making me smile into his chest. “Let’s go home,”

“Home... I could get used to the sound of that.”

“I’m sure you will Empress Ren,”

#kylo x you #kylo ren fanfic #kylo x reader #kylo ren #kylo ren fluff #star wars #the last jedi #the force awakens #ben solo #ben solo x you

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wheaterz · 7 years

Text

Little Talks

>Are you awake?

Mel heard the faint ‘blip’ of her laptop from across the dim room. It was late, raining, and cool with the wind making the house around her creak. She sat curled up in a plush quilt on an old couch with a glass of bourbon to her lips. It had been a lonely night, so she was happy to hear the message from her computer. Her roommate was out on a job and she wouldn’t be back for a couple of days. With one last glance at the water pouring from the sky outside her patio door, which she’d purposely left open a crack for the fresh air, Mel brought herself to her feet and made her way over to her desk. She could feel the cold floor underneath her socks, but she wouldn’t be long. She had every intention of bringing the laptop back with her over to the couch.

On the screen of her laptop was a small, blue square in the corner with a history of texts on it from her previous conversations with the other side. It was all very plain, but it was the simplicity that helped. Not only was it a concept she well grasped as far as software programs were concerned, but it read Aperture loud and clear with hardly any delay. With the laptop rested on the arm of the couch, she typed back.

- I’m here.

>That was a test, go to sleep.

- No.

>That was the real test, you passed.

-I’m afraid you’ve lost me, dear.

>I want to talk and I know you can just sleep in tomorrow.

Well, that was a fairly blunt way of putting it. Mel sighed, remembering that she hadn’t yet discovered a job within her new-found community, and it was becoming a little frustrating. Most things that had to do with computers she was bad at, and this new world was heavily reliant on it. Now, she was a fast learner, but when the cash register has ten-millions different options on its touch screen to go through things became a little muddled. Press AE and it will take you to the discount screen, only some discounts were only available for short times, so one would be replaced with another… Oh, did you make so many mistakes that the register locked you out? Please ask your manager for assistance.

Even with how minimalistic their town was in the sad state the world was in, cashiering somehow survived the apocalypse.

It was all very degrading. She was an Olympic Champion of her day, for crying out loud.

>You’re upset. Was it something I said?

Mel blinked, realizing she’d taken a while to respond when she was lost in thought and bit her lip.

-No, it wasn’t you. Don’t worry about it. The storm is just keeping me up.

>Okay.

>Want to talk about it?

Virgil really wasn’t the type of person for taking a hint. You really had to drill most points into him, but maybe for once she was glad for this. Giving in, her shoulders relaxed and she began typing.

-Adjusting has been difficult. I knew it would be, but I suppose no matter how prepared I was I couldn’t have foreseen the way I feel right now. Which is to say… useless. I think I finally have a full understanding of why you didn’t want to leave.

>Took you long enough.

-Be nice.

>Look, you are far from useless and you know it. I’m not going to take you wallowing in a self-pity-party sitting down.

-Excuse you, Mister, I absolutely am not wallowing in pity.

-Ah yeah? What were you doing before I logged on?

-Sitting.

>And?

-Drinking.

-Tea.

-Drinking hot tea.

>Gotcha.

Virgil absolutely infuriated Mel sometimes, but maybe that was because she knew he was right. Curling further under her quilt of warmth she glanced around the room she’d made her home and how she’d neglected to tidy up the place for a bit. It was strange how even though she was bored out of her mind and had all the time in the world, even the smallest thing seemed to be an uphill climb. Granted, she was much happier out here than she would have been stuck down in Aperture, and she was even more grateful for not just being plain dead, but it would be nice if things went a little smoother than they were now.

>Lets change the subject then.

Thank goodness for small blessings… and apparently Virgil’s newly formed telepathy.

>Things have been a little less quiet recently.

-Anything I should be concerned about?

>No, not at all. One of the other cores has pitched that we have holidays. We’re all supposed to send in ideas of what kind of holiday we’d want, since human holidays are kind of meaningless down here. Apparently we’ve reached the brim of boredom for this to be a thing now.

-Well that sounds like a bang up time, don’t you think?

>Not really? That means fun, right? Anyway, I’m not casting any votes in but I did make the mistake of offering to manage them, so now I have a whole file on my computer of different ideas that were sent my way.

-What do they say then?

>Laundry Day.

-You are the only core that has clothes. How can there be a laundry day?

>In definition, they suggested Laundry Day be when we burn a pile of leftover test subject jumpsuits for giggles.

-Ah. Oodles of fun.

>Yeah, oodles. There’s also Sleepmode Day, Rail Day, Turret Concert Day, Hide-and-Seek Day…

-There’s a Hide-and-Seek day?

>That’s actually a pretty common game down here. It takes weeks.

-That’s cute.

>My favorite of these, so far, is Explosion Day.

-Rick?

>Rick.

-Any other news?

>Um…

>Got my core shell solar power enhancements, so that’s nice.

-Very fancy. Do you still plan on returning to it?

>Honestly, not sure, but fixing all the things I disliked about myself has been a nice pastime, albeit a strange one.

-How so?

>Imagine doing open surgery on yourself.

-Oh, well, that is strange when you put it that way.

>Only an itty, bitty bit. I’ve been through stranger, no thanks to you.

-I’m honored you think so highly of me.

>I actually can’t tell if that’s sarcasm or not.

Melanie grinned, despite herself. It was strange how a little robot miles upon miles away from her could still manage to make her smile. She was glad for the conversation, and it put her more at ease than she had been a little while prior to their window chat, and the bourbon was finally setting in. Mel put a hand to her mouth and yawned.

-I feel ready to attempt sleeping again. It was lovely of you to keep me company, Virgil.

>Hey, Mel. Hold up a moment.

Normally when she said she was ready to fall asleep he was quick to let her go, so to be stopped so suddenly was abnormal. Of course she wasn’t going to turn him down, even if she was inches from slumber.

-Yes?

>Even if you don’t find anything right away you deserve some time to yourself. More than anyone. Give yourself a breather. I find it hard to believe that you survived as much as you have and there isn’t a place for you up there somewhere waiting. Just… take your time. Don’t stress it. It’ll come up eventually.

-You sound so sure.

>Really, any other way of looking at it is ridiculous. I don’t know what mighty cosmic-whatever you got on the good side of, but it would be stupid to think that you managed to make it through decades worth of croysleep and several killer robots and they just decided you aren’t going to have it made up there.

-I was in a barn for six months the last time I got out.

>We’ll just add that stupid barn to the list of things you’ve stomped into the dust.

>Not literally, obviously. Barns are kind of big.

>Obviously.

>Keep at it, okay?

-I will. Thank you.

>Do you think the storm is going to still keep you up?

-I’m not entirely sure.

>Hold on, I got something for you then.

Virgil disappeared for a couple of minutes, but the next message that arrived wasn’t text at all, but a tiny white square with a music note on it.

>Try that out. Just click on it.

Once Mel had clicked on the file another window opened that played for her a sweet little melody, though an electronic one. It sounded like one of the songs the turrets would sing in the depths of Aperture, and streams of rainbow light bobbed in time with the music in the open window. This may just do it if she kept the volume down enough, and she typed to her friend one last time.

-Its absolutely perfect. Goodnight, Virgil.

>Goodnight, Mel.

She slowly placed the laptop on the coffee table in front of the couch where she’d also lay her drink glass. It was one of the last remaining lights in the main living space, aside from a nightlight plugged into the kitchen wall in the shape of a lily and the dim glow of the moon fighting through the rainclouds outside in spotted streams of silver. Mel thought about heading up to her room, but she was comfortable here. Even with the door still slightly ajar and the sideways rain dampening the floor, Mel curled up against the arm of the couch with a cushion under her head. She could try to find her place in this world again tomorrow, or she could wait.

Even with the accomplishments Mel made in the past that she could share with no one but her one friend on the other side of her computer screen, she could still take something from them. She’d done great things, and she would continue to do great things. Maybe just not now.

#little talks #testing maintenance #portal stories mel #portal #portal 2 #virgil #mel

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stereksummerexchange · 7 years

Text

Mind’s a Mess

@inatshej

by @septima-sum

“This is our new student,” Finstock tells the class. “Derek Hale! Go easy on him, you rabid monsters.”

Stiles gets a burst of anxiety from the new kid. For a moment, he hears Derek’s thoughts loud and clear. I hate First Days. I never get used to the staring. Play it cool, damn it. Play it cool.

Stiles winces in sympathy. Yeah, First Days suck.

To Derek’s credit, he looks as bored and disaffected as he possibly can while introducing himself to twenty new people who will mercilessly judge every single one of his moves. His tells them that his family moved here from New York, which sounds cool until he mentions the upstate part. He has three siblings. Two of them also go this school, while is older sister is off to college. He likes gaming, movies, and food, by which he means eating rather than preparing. He’s also a werewolf. “And that’s it, mostly,” he concludes.

Okay, the last part is probably not something that comes up in most introductions, but that sort of info is par for the course in Beacon Hills. Everybody is something in this town. When Derek is finished with the introduction, he scans the rows of chairs and – hurray! – ends up claiming the free place next to Stiles. He’s slumping into it as if he wishes he could disappear. Makes himself smaller than he is. Observes everything.

Stiles very much wants to read his thoughts, really read his thoughts, deliberately, but doesn’t. He had many a talk with Ms. Morell why privacy is sacrosanct. Being born a telepath, it was a tough thing to learn. He’s always caught snippets of thoughts here and there, even if he didn’t want to. As soon as he could talk, that got him in trouble big time. Like when he’d mentioned the divorce to Scott, who hadn’t known about it. (And neither had his dad, actually).

Great powers beget great fuck-ups.

Speaking of which, Finstock’s cell phone goes off and prompts him to argue with the poor person calling him. “Are you kidding me? That’s why it’s called an insurance – no – that’s the literal definition of the word!” He scowls at the class as if they are to blame for his predicament. “You do group work until I get back! No shenanigans! I’m looking at you, Greenberg.”

“Stop picking on Greenberg,” a girl in the last row yells.

“I’m not playing favorites! I hate all of you!” Finstock shouts and slams the door shut.

“Wow.” Derek seems bewildered, to put it mildly. “Is he always like that?”

Stiles grins. “My sweet summer child… that’s nothing. Wait until he recruits you into the Lacrosse team and gives one of his motivational pre-game speeches. Now that’s a spectacle.”

Derek processes that. “Can’t wait,” he says dubiously.

“What’s up with the whole Clark Kent thing?” Stiles asks him, motioning to Derek’s bulky black glasses and his whole… vibe. Like the plaid button-down shirt that strains to fit around his athletic form, or the very neat hairstyle that makes him appear like an engineering student form the 1950s. He seems like the world’s least convincing nerd. As an actual nerd, Stiles feels compelled to defend the honor of his brethren.

Derek corrects the position of his glasses. “Clark Kent?”

“You know, Superman?” Stiles asks in a tone of profound derision. Jesus. They don’t make ‘em any brighter these days, do they.

“I know Superman,” Derek says. He sounds insulted, which, fair point, he has every right to be. “Kal-El from Krypton, created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster in 1938. I’m just wondering if you’re talking about the Pre-Crisis or Post-Crisis versions? The Golden Age? Silver Age? Bronze? Or maybe you’re talking about Bizarro Superman.”

“Um,” Stiles utters eloquently. This is not going the way he imagined it would go.

“If you mean the 1930s version, you’re practically describing me as an aggressive vigilante, so thanks for that. Or maybe you think I’m the archetype of the brave-hearted hero with a strong sense of justice, morality and righteousness? Like the version from the 1940s onward? Maybe. But you could also mean that I resemble the recent DCEU version, where Superman is deeply distrustful, doesn’t give a crap about human lives and the entire heroic arc is all about his ego. That comparison I would find offensive, frankly.”

“Uhhh… well.” It’s possible that Stiles’ knees turn a little weak. “I just meant because of the glasses and your whole suppressed jock vibe,” he says. “Dude, I don’t know you well enough to even guess which moral belief system you ascribe to!”

Derek considers this. “If you have to make a comparison at all, compare me to the classic Post-Crisis version,” he says earnestly. “And I’m not a jock, suppressed or otherwise.”

“Ok,” Stiles says, bewildered. “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll keep that in mind. Fine. But really, what’s up with the glasses? Wolves have perfect vision.”

Derek seems to deflate. “I know, and so do hunters. My family insist I tried to blend in as much as possible. I’ve worn glasses for years.”

That Stiles didn’t expect at all. “Really? Wow.” He’s been so used to living in the little bubble that is Beacon Hills that he forgot what it’s like out there. “This town is warded. We haven’t had hunter activity in, like, decades. You couldn’t find a safer place anywhere on this planet.”

Derek looks unconvinced but doesn’t voice his doubts.

Truth to be told, Stiles is envious.

Of Scott, who lives for the full moons, for the nights spent running through the Preserve, where he can unleash his powers and feel at peace with himself. Of Kira, whose mother instructed her in the ways of kitsunes since she was a little girl. Even a little bit of Jackson, lizard freak that he is, because even he can display his kanima self in this town whenever he wishes to.

In contrast, telepathic abilities are intrusive by their very nature. Not something to be cherished and celebrated – they’re a problem to be managed.

Which is why Stiles loved loved loved the family trip to Chicago last year. Just being in the city and opening himself up, listening to the hundreds of voices streaming past him. He figured he wouldn’t do any harm that way, not if he couldn’t tell whose thoughts he was emerging himself in… but really, in all likelihood that was probably a convenient lie he told himself.

Derek sits with them at lunch. He learns that Scott, Erica, Boyd, and Isaac are werewolves. He learns that Lydia is a banshee and Kira a kitsune.

It’s with the familiar nervousness that Stiles tells him he’s a telepath.

Oh shit, Derek’s mind yells. A telepath? Is he reading my thoughts now? Does he know I think he’s CUTE?

Stiles, under the greatest effort known to humankind up to this point, manages not to do a tap dance in the middle of the cafeteria. He closes his mind, but it’s too late to forget what he just learned. Cute. Derek thinks he’s cute!

“You can read thoughts?” Derek asks out loud, an anxious edge to his oh-so casual question.

“Yeah,” Stiles confirms and fiddles with his napkin.

“Are you reading everyone’s thoughts here?”

“Absolutely not,” Stiles says and acts extra annoyed because of his latent guilt. “There are rules and guidelines. I have ethics to consider, man. Not that I’m interested in the dull inner workings of you unwashed furballs anyway.” The last part he says to all of the werewolves at the table.

“Like we’re interested in your inner workings either,” Erica says sweetly.

Yelping, Stiles ducks as Isaac throws a crumbled paper at him, but it still hits him right in the center of his face. Curse that scarf-wearing annoyance with his impeccable aim.

“You should really try out the Lacrosse team,” Scott tells Derek. “You look like you’d be a good fit!”

“He means that you’re built like a brick house,” Boys says. “And just for the record, I agree. Come to one of our open training sessions, check it out. There’s no harm in that.”

Derek hesitates. He’s worried, that much Stiles can tell even without working his telepathic mojo.

“I haven’t really played sports yet,” Derek says. “At school, I mean. My mother was always worried I would be too good at it and would give my werewolf identity away.”

That earns him a few looks a pity, but Scott also slings his arm around his shoulders and tells him it’s all going to be fine.

And maybe for the first time that day, Derek believes them.

Growing up, Stiles watched his parent interact with ease, often communicating mentally instead of verbally. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to him.

Sometimes Stiles will visit Claudia’s grave and the wind will ruffle his hair… almost with purpose, almost lovingly – and he’ll imagine it’s her. He’ll imagine that something of her is left behind; a fragment, a piece or her mind. In those moments, he allows himself to believe she watches over him still.

Stiles learns that Derek likes to run first thing in the morning, when the dawn is just breaking and the air is still chilly and damp.

He also collects graphic novels and studies for tests with a single-minded intensity that is nothing short of impressive.

Most of the time he’s so quiet that his deadpan humor all hits them a second too late, surprising them into fits of laughter.

And yes, Derek is great at Lacrosse – which irks Jackson to no end and delights everyone else.

They’re supposed to study together, but Stiles can’t focus on electrostatic charge right now.

Because: cute.

It’s unhealthy how often Stiles obsesses about that one word and ponders its many connotations. Why didn’t Derek ask him out yet? Why? It can’t be for the lack of puns about bisexuality, because Stiles didn’t spare him those. And yeah, it’s not like Derek is obligated to make a move, he hardly needs to ask out every person he found attractive for one split second, but… but.

“Stiles,” Derek sighs and closes the book he was reading with a thud. He looks at his friend with fond annoyance. “I feel like this would be so much simpler if you just read my damn mind.”

“You mean that?” Stiles asks, nearly breathlessly.

“I do.”

And that’s how it all begins.

For the lovely inatshej and their prompt: I love friends to lovers, preferebly high school, human, light angst with a fluffy ending, maybe nerd Derek.

#stereksummerexchange17 #sse17 #sterek #submission #fic

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kinosternon · 7 years

Text

Names Gone Before

Fandom: The Adventure Zone (Podcast) Words: 3,134 (complete) Characters: Angus McDonald & Taako Rating: T (canon-typical language)

Ao3

Summary: Angus is caught by Tres Horny Boys in the process of destroying evidence on a quick jaunt to his hometown.

Taako figures out what's going on, and decides to help him.

(scroll to the bottom for warnings)

"Whatcha doing over there, little guy?"

It's Magnus that notices, which is strange, Angus thinks, because while Magnus is strong and has a fairly high emotional intelligence, he wouldn't have considered him the most observant of the Bureau of Balance's legendary Reclaimers. His brain's running at top speeds for the past minute as he'd used every, considerable, talent at his disposal to get away from the rest of the team without attracting notice. He'd gotten up on tiptoe, as necessary, and gotten the sign down with one assertive tug, but the tearing had been more audible than he'd anticipated, his bounce just a bit too eye-catching, and now he was in a bit of a sticky situation.

He'd heard that this trip surface-side today was a "training mission," but it was obviously just a glorified grocery run, in the wake of complaints about the monotony of the Bureau dinner menu that Angus suspected had finally made their way up to the Director. Who better to pick out the finest ingredients than Taako, after all? Upon hearing this reasoning, Angus had volunteered himself to show them around the downtown area closest to where he'd grown up. He'd cut his teeth there, after all, learning the ins and outs of adventuring, and thus knew all the best places to shop for the freshest, highest-quality ingredients at bargain prices! Besides, he'd said, he wanted to see if there had been any major changes, since he still had "a hint of sentimental fondness for the place."

It was around there in his explanation that the last dregs of Merle's, Taako's, and Magnus's already spare interest had faded once and for all. Which was good—moments like those were the best to sneak in lies.

The truth was, there had been a small doubt, a sense of a vital detail overlooked, creeping up on Angus for a little while, only recently growing to the point of a full-fledged hunch, and he'd wanted to follow up on it. He'd really, really hoped he was wrong, but it had turned out he'd been right.

Even then, he'd thought, with the low level of the danger of the "mission," that he might be able to deal with the problem without alerting the others. He'd just bring back the evidence to the Director, have a brief, extremely awkward chat, and after that the matter could be safely laid to rest, with none of his friends ever the wiser as to the nature of his miscalculation, or even that he'd ever hidden anything about this at all.

Except, of course, it hadn't turned out that way, and even his genius mind, racing at close to maximum velocity, comes up with no way to avoid the fact that he's just been caught red-handed.

"Nothing," he says, and hides the paper he'd just taken down behind his back, crumpling it a bit in his small, sweaty hands.

This, as predicted, does absolutely nothing to stop the three of him from closing in on him.

"You know, I've got a pretty good nose for bullshit," Merle says, trying for off-handed but mainly just sounding petty, "and this don't smell like roses, that's all I'm saying."

"Each of you has a deep, dark mysterious backstory that you don't talk to anyone about," Angus says, pretending his shoulders aren't trying to permanently attach themselves to his ears as he backs up against the wall. "I'm Feyruun's number-one boy detective. Is it really so hard to believe that I might have some private matters of my own?" (A strapping young man keeps his shoulders wide and his stance assertive! He pulls up a mental image of Caleb Cleveland and tries again, unsuccessfully, to relax.)

"You're, like, five, little dude."

He feels his ears heat up, continues to ignore it. "Well, still!"

"Nope, pulling bigger-than-you privileges." Magnus, having closed the distance between them, reaches over and somehow manages to use all his considerable strength on Angus's fingers rather than the paper crumpled between them. Angus shakes them out to make the last of the sting go away, eyes glued to Magnus's face to see if the man can figure out his secret from the clues he's uncovered.

Magnus's face goes very serious, which is in character given what he's seeing, and he smooths the paper out with careful hands. Then he pauses, looks between Angus and the poster once or twice. "…wait, what?" he says finally, apparently still stumped. "Why are you taking down a missing child poster?"

"I, uh…well…" And as simple as that, there's a lie that doesn't even require lying. "That's one of the people the Void Fish is supposed to have erased, sir. Remember all those people I was supposed to be working cases for?"

Magnus frowns, clearly upset by the idea of erasing the memory of a child, but he folds up the poster and starts to hand it back to Angus. Suddenly there's a slender hand between them, though, and the paper is up in front of Taako's face. From his angle, all Angus can see is the elf's eyebrows settling into a frown.

"Yeah, cool story, kiddo," Taako drawls. "Does that explain why this kid has your last name?"

Busted, an entirely unhelpful part of Angus's internal monologue blares at him.

"I. Well. Uh," Angus stammers, and then tries his best to stop stammering because it's a bad habit. "It's a common name," he manages, but without enough assertion—none of them even seem to be paying him any attention anymore. Merle has sidled up behind Taako and is trying to read the poster, only Taako seems to be holding it higher on purpose. He cranes his neck to keep squinting at it, ignoring Merle's grumbling.

Then he stops, gives Angus a once-over, and blinks.

"Oh," Taako says, and then, "ohhhh. Right, okay."

And just like that, he takes the poster, tears it into little pieces, ignoring the others' protests and shoves the pieces into his bag. "Right, cool," he says, as the others continue to curse him out, more surprised than angry. Angus can only stare. "Let's go, amigos. Boy wonder over here took care of this, nothing more to see. We've got a mission, remember?"

"I don't think a food run really counts as a mission," Angus nit-picks automatically, even as he wonders if he sounds as relieved as he feels. "Actually, it's not beyond the realm of possibility that for the Director, getting you all off the moon to "blow off some steam" was an end unto itself…"

"Yeah, too much speculation, not enough boogeying." Somehow, Taako is already several strides ahead of the rest of them. "Are we doing this, or are we doing this? Thought so. Let's go."

When they return to the BoB headquarters, Merle loses the coin toss (instigated by Taako, who Angus is privately certain cheated) to carry the fruits of their shopping trip to the Bureau kitchen. Magnus gallantly offers to help, and as they leave Taako catches Angus's attention. "Hey, come on, twerp," he says. "Mission to accomplish."

"What's that, sir?" Angus asks, but he follows despite Taako's lack of an answer, taking three steps for each of Taako's two. At least when he's not with Magnus, Taako walks a little slower, but he still knows his ways around cities, and it shows in the way he dodges well out of the way of the handful of Bureau employees they pass, keeping a brisk, businesslike pace. Taako leads Angus down the hallways to the center of the Bureau, deep down to where the Voidfish lives in its tank. The hallways empty as they approach, and when they arrive at the Voidfish's chamber there isn't anyone inside.

Angus has come down here once or twice, mainly to listen to Johann's music (even if it makes his head hurt afterwards, not being able to remember it properly), but he doesn't do it too often. A good detective knows to tread lightly around secrets.

Which apparently Taako does, too, because he reaches into his bag, and with a whisper of his Mage Hand spell, what every last scrap of the missing child poster drops into Angus's hands.

"Do the honors, kid," Taako says, gesturing at the tank.

"T-thank you, sir," Angus says, eyes on the mound of paper on his hand so he doesn't lose track of any scraps. "I'd thought I'd better talk to the Director about this, but if you think this'll be enough—”

"Day's a-wasting," Taako drawls. "Get that trash out of here, it's been too much trouble already."

"Y-yes, sir." Taako opens the little door to the tank open for him before Angus can figure out how to do it with his hands full, and he carefully lets the slips of paper flutter into the tank. They're caught up the water and swirl aimlessly for a second, before they seem to be drawn together by an invisible force—probably the current, Angus thinks, hypnotized. They disappear into the Voidfish's maw, and for a second Angus thinks he sees two sparks of a flicker. Then they go silent, and the Voidfish continues to drift aimlessly in the tank, as though there had never been any interruption.

Angus looks at the tank for another long moment, as though waiting for something, and then sighs. He turns back to Taako as though he's just remembered the elf was there, and he's waiting, one arm akimbo, the other fiddling with the handle of his umbre-staff.

"I don't know about you, Ango, but as far as I'm concerned this kind of info is on a strictly need-to-know basis." Taako gives him a hard look, one eyebrow raised. "If you thought the Director needed to know, you would've told her from the start, right?"

Angus swallows hard. "Are you mad at me, sir?" he asks.

"Nope," Taako says lightly, popping the p and turning away from the tank, looking thoroughly bored. "Oh, and also—and this is a one-time offer, by the way, no take-backs if you say no—if you wanna tell me anything else about this, now's the time. If not, then great, we can forget this little trip ever happened."

Angus feels a sick doubt sprouting in the pit of his stomach. It isn't that easy—it's never that easy. Still, it's one of the hardest things he's ever done to force out: "Sir, please wait."

"Nah," Taako says. "If we're having this conversation, we're having it in my room. It's drafty down here."

Taako brews up two old, stale tea bags from the Fantasy Costco when they get to his room. That's it—no snacks, just two chipped sale mugs, but it's more hospitality than Angus is used to, and given the dorms it's an unexpected luxury to have food outside the dining hall anyway. He watches Taako fold gracefully into a lounging position against a mountain of pillows and takes a seat on the floor within an easy line of sight. He ignores the faintly disapproving look Taako gives him at his choice of seat, wondering instead where exactly he'd managed to pilfer all those pillows from.

"I don't have all day," Taako prompts him idly, blowing on his tea. He takes a sip, winces, and blows on it again.

Angus, taking his cue, waits a little bit for his mug to cool before trying to take a sip. "From your reaction, Mister Taaco, I'm guessing you already know most of the story. I must admit, I'm not entirely sure where to start…?"

"Keep it simple. Is this why you've never talked much about your parents?" Taako asks. "I thought you were an orphan, but, well. More fool me, I suppose."

"Yes, sir. They…I told them about me, but it never really seemed to sink in. They didn't think I'd make much of a detective, either, but…well, my grandpa is—er, maybe was would be the better term—getting to the age where he didn't really mind what I did. His memory was going a bit, so when I reminded him I was his grandson, he…"

"He just went with it?"

"Yes, sir." Angus smiles a bit at the memory. The old man had immediately told him off for wearing ratty old oversized rags unbefitting any young gentleman, and had given him a small sack of gold and orders in no uncertain terms not to come back into the house until he stopped looking like a "ratty hooligan." The clothes made the man, Angus had read in multiple places, and in a way Angus McDonald, Boy Detective, had been born that very day. Or born again, at the very least.

But Angus, doubting that Taako wants to know that much detail, keeps it simple. "He let me do what I wanted, sir, as long as it was respectable. He never questioned it at all."

"I see." Taako slurps at his tea, long and loud, and makes a slight face. "Okay, so far this is really straightforward. What was it you wanted to say, exactly?"

Right. The hard part. Angus frowns. "Well, sir, just that…I'm a very good detective, so I notice things. I know this will change the way you see me, and that's okay, but, um, if you could please maybe try keep calling me 'he,' I'd really appreciate it."

For a split second, Taako looks at him with an expression that Angus, self-trained in the art of breaking down micro-expressions, reads as disgust. He quails a bit under the intensity of the look, but then Taako seems to shake himself, face going oddly blank, and then shrugs. "Already done in my book. Really don't see why it needs saying."

"I guess you'd be surprised, sir?" Angus says, more than a little lost. "Then, I guess, if you could maybe not tell the others…? There's a reason I like to keep this secret. You may or may not have guessed this, but people have a way of treating me…a bit differently, if they find out."

"No, I gotcha. I've got a pretty good idea where you're coming from."

Angus pauses, blinks, and then his eyes widen in rising concern. "Sir, are you…oh no, have I been using the wrong pronouns? I haven't, have I? Is 'sir' okay? You'd correct me if it weren't, right?"

"Huh?" It takes Taako a second to catch up, and then he waves his hands back and forth in denial. "No, no, beebs, not me. I just…huh. I don't know why I feel like I get what it's like. I just kinda do, somehow."

"Oh. Okay." Angus looks a bit confused, but like he isn't really questioning it. More thoughtful. Which is good, because Taako is kind of questioning it. He knows people like Angus, he's sure of it, but he's met and forgotten a lot of people, and this doesn't feel like an acquaintance-type thing. It's like a dimension in his brain has opened up that he'd forgotten about, neatly cataloguing the things that are a bit tricky for the kid, probably. He can't quite trace where about half of them come from, but whatever, they're assumptions anyway. No big.

Angus is fidgeting, too restless to hide behind his mug. "Look," Taako tells him. "I'm fine with never bringing this up again, if that's what you want. Your prerogative, boyo. But if there's something you want to say, just spill already."

"Well…" Angus frowns. "It's just that, if you don't mind my saying so, sir, you sometimes act…kind of flashy? Not in a bad way, it works really really well for you!" he rushes on, before Taako can give him any sort of response whatsoever. "But it makes me feel better too, because it could be interpreted as feminine but you don't seem to care. And neither do your friends."

"Well, sure," Taako says, shrugging. "Is there a point somewhere or did you just want to sort of awkwardly ramble about other people's style choices?"

"Well, it's just…no matter what, everyone still treats you like you. Sometimes I act more feminine than I want to, so it's good to see that your friends respect you just the same."

"The 'awe-inspiring wizard' part doesn't hurt with that," Taako admits, carding a hand through his hair and sighing. "But that's more important for strangers. The important thing is to be yourself. Live your truth, little dude. Worked for me all these years." He tilts his head to one side, putting it together. "Just to be clear, you do actually want to be doing this whole über-polite, dapper boy genius schtick, right? You're not just doing it for…I don't know, boy points?"

"No, sir!" Angus says. Taako might not give a flying fuck about micro-expressions, but he knows Angus—the kid's clever, but not a good enough liar to fake the happy crinkles around his eyes. "I really like being who I am right now."

"Cool. Then we're good, my man." Taako puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezes for a moment before it's gone as casually as if it were never there. "Consider the matter closed. I'll cover you for the others if it comes up again."

Angus blinks rapidly for a second, then says, "Thank you, sir. I'd hate for them to treat me differently. I'd hate to be left out of the games and goofs, not now that I'm finally getting used to them. I hadn't really had the chance to participate in much rowdy boyish roughhousing before I met you guys."

Oh. Taako hadn't really thought before that there might be a reason that Angus has always gone along so readily with their pranks and teasing, but this explains a little more than he's entirely happy with. He makes a mental note, reluctantly, to keep an eye on Magnus's and Merle's teasing. It probably won't be a problem—the little twerp's grown on all of them somehow or other, by this point, even if none of them would admit it aloud. But the others don't know that Angus has even more to fear about fitting in with "the guys" than most little boys.

He finishes his tea in one long gulp. As far as Taako's concerned, that more or less settles things. Except…

"To be clear," he says, testing the waters, "I'm still gonna be calling you Agnes, kiddoleth. Unless you really, really hate it, in which case—”

"No, that's fine, sir." Angus beams. "That wasn't my birth name."

"Oh good," Taako says. "Because I'd hate it if you'd been stuck with a name like Angus out of an appreciation for wordplay, or something."

"Nope, it's a family name," Angus says, chest puffing up with pride as the barb bounces off entirely.

Yep, Taako decides. He's fine.

END

Warnings: Trans angst, mainly—some of the language and situations depicted may be significantly less than ideal, especially for people already sensitive to the topic. Nothing that should be outright offensive, though, hopefully.

#the adventure zone #angus mcdonald #taako taaco #gen #my fanfic #self-indulgent headcanons #slow reveal #(I can only hope)#spoilers hinted at but not explicitly mentioned #first fic for this fandom #so typical caveats about unfamiliarity/inaccuracy apply #also what are nicknames even

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syao · 7 years

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#TentenAppreciationWeek: March 9th (Thursday) - Birthday

Read Time: 10 minutes. Pairing: NejiTen-ish

For a single woman celebrating her twenty-ninth birthday, there weren’t a lot of social options for her when the clock strikes past seven.

All her friends had spouses and children to go home to for the night. The few ones who didn’t, like Aburame Shino, had students to meet the following morning.

The former village leader, Tsunade-sama, would probably have gamely accompanied her, but that would have meant getting dragged to gambling dens with suffocating tobacco smoke and boisterous jeers.

Not exactly her cup of tea.

(Plus, while Tsunade-sama perpetually held a queenly place in her heart, even she had to admit that the former Hokage had terrible, terrible luck in games of chance, and she held no desire to start her twenty-ninth year in this world with a co-borrowed debt from Konoha’s loan sharks.)

So in the end, she picked up a bottle of heavy sake and grilled pork skewers, and headed home.

"Happy birthday, Tenten!” greeted her landlord and landlady when she arrived in front of her rented flat. The couple seemed to have just returned from their weekly date night, as attested to by their clasped hands and over-the-moon smiles.

“Thanks, lovebirds!” She took two skewers from her food bag and handed these to the aged couple. “Here. Partake in my luxurious birthday feast of grilled pork rinds, bought and paid for by my limited edition discount voucher!”

Her landlady peered at her curiously, almost disbelievingly even. “Are you celebrating alone? Didn’t you invite a special friend over?”

She fought a sigh that threatened to escape from her throat. This was neither the first, nor the last time she would be asked this.

The old woman continued, “There’s a lid for every pot, my dear. Your biological clock is ticking, and your eggs may go stale...”

“AHAHA, you got me!” She raised her eyebrows conspiratorially. “As a matter of fact, I did meet someone.”

“I knew it!” The elder lady beamed smugly.

She drew closer to the intrigued woman and lowered her voice dramatically into a whisper. “And we’re totally hitting it off! In fact, we’re already on first-name basis! I just need to call him once, and he comes a-runnin’ to me!”

Her landlady looked absolutely thrilled. “My, such youthful love!”

“He’s a bad boy, though. A very naughty boy.”

“Eh?”

“Last night, when he thought I was sleeping-- get this-- he licked my face all over!”

The landlady’s cheeks turned flushed. “Erm, what’s his name and which clan does he belong to?”

"His name is Hachiko, and he’s from the clan of Shiba Inu.” Her chest puffed out in pride.

“Hachiko! Down, boy! Down!” She laughingly pushed down her still-growing dog down, which pounced on her the minute she opened the door. “You can smell the skewers, can’t you, boy? That’s right! We’re having meat tonight, boy. Meat!”

Locking the door behind her, she was met by a spartan studio-type space which looked barely lived in. Aside from a couple of picture frames of her former teammates and the recent photo of Hachiko, her room bore no trace of its owner’s personal touch.

She had lived there for the past nine years.

Placing her food and booze on the table, she pulled up a seat and sank back against the lone chair in the room. She shut her eyes tight, taking in the quietness of her home.

It was a night very much like the few others she spent here when off-mission, except she had meat and wine to share with her dog tonight.

The solitude felt empty, but it didn’t necessarily feel lonely. It was just something she had gotten used to by now. Just like her life.

After Uzumaki Naruto and Hyuuga Hinata’s wedding, her friends slowly followed suit. Wedding. Baptism. Sending kids to the Academy. Family vacations.

She was happy for them, that was for sure. There were even instances at the start that she felt envious of them opening new chapters in their lives.

But as years passed, she had learned to embrace and appreciate the direction her own life took. As the acknowledged weapon mistress of Konoha, weapon enthusiasts from all over the continent flocked to her store to admire and purchase her merchandise. And her shinobi missions introduced her to people that she otherwise would not have the opportunity to meet if she merely stayed in the village.

All things considered, life was good for her. Unfortunately, her circle of family and friends didn’t think so. And they felt obliged to do something about that.

How many times did she have to deal with the embarrassment of having her well-meaning fellow kunoichi shove her to the front of the crowd so she could finally catch the bouquet?

(If she really wanted to, she would have caught it without a problem even if it were thrown fifty feet away)

How many times did she have to come up with lame excuses to get out of Gai-sensei and Rock Lee’s blind date setups?

(Those dates only came in handy when she was tired of her ramen cups)

It was, frankly, exhausting trying to explain the fact that she held a different set of priorities than them.

It didn’t matter how much she insisted that her life-saving shinobi missions and her weapon shop were enough for her at this point in her life. In everyone’s eyes, she was denying herself the opportunity to be truly happy, as if the satisfaction she held right now was nothing but fake.

They said her weapons would not look after her when she grew old.

The people she met and saved weren’t going to properly fill her need for belonging. Not the way a husband and children would do, at least.

She was dooming herself to a life of loneliness, they said.

And the only person who could probably have understood her, defended her ‘unorthodox’ life choices, and taken her side no matter what?

He died on her many years ago, that jerk.

Hachiko let out a whine, interrupting her reverie. Clearly, he was waiting for his portion of the rare meat treat.

She tossed him a barbecued pork skewer, which the latter accepted with profound blissfulness. His pointy ears were practically bouncing as he chowed down on the grilled rinds with drooling gusto.

“You like it, don’t ya, boy?” she asked, rubbing his head with bubbly affection. “Well, don’t get too used to it. We’re back to military rations tomorrow.”

She was about to take a bite of her own skewered meat as well when the doorbell rang.

It was her landlord, carrying an armful of large Casablanca lilies. The sight of the familiar beautiful flowers brought a warm smile to her face.

“The night delivery never fails every year,” said the old man cheerfully as he handed her the plentiful bouquet.

“Yes.” She once asked the florist’s courier why they had to be delivered at such an unusual time, to which the latter explained that these fragrant flowers only ever bloom at night. The sender himself knew this, and stated he deliberately picked them for that reason.

After closing the door, she carefully gathered the flowers into a tall crystal vase that she especially purchased years ago for the yearly bouquet.

The flowers only bore the same message in the card every year: a formal birthday greeting. Yet she kept each and every card with great care.

After all, it was her lone tangible remaining connection she had with its ‘sender’.

She recalled that when she received the same flowers for the first time (around a year after the great Shinobi Wars), they were delivered by the last person on earth that she expected to appear on her doorstep.

The respected head of the Hyuuga clan, Hyuuga Hiashi himself.

Later, as she offered him her poorly-made tea, the clan head explained his presence. After sorting through his deceased nephew’s belongings, he found a planner and the lone marked date on the calendar with a note to visit the flower shop.

Out of curiosity, Hiashi dutifully went to the shop on the said date and learned that Neji was supposed to pay for the delivery of the flowers that date. He asked for the delivery details, and ended up at her flat.

The man wanted to know what kind of relationship did she and his nephew had. She said they were teammates, and that it was her who was in charge of covering for his blind spot.

Upon learning this, the older man looked satisfied. He then declared that the Hyuuga family will continue to send her the flowers on Neji’s behalf for the rest of her birthdays.

Neji, the Main Family leader explained, was someone who would not easily disclose his vulnerability to just anyone. Therefore, it meant she was someone he greatly respected. She was the famed woman that the clan’s young prodigy exclusively approved of.

“It’s the least we could do to honor the man who gave his life to protect our clan’s important member and the village’s hero,” he ended with a pained smile. “We can’t bring him back to life, but perhaps we can help at least part of his will to continue living.”

Nine years after, the flowers were yet to miss a delivery. Perfectionist Neji would have been pleased as a peach.

She picked up a picture frame that held Team Gai’s photo. The young Hyuuga Neji looked emotionally constipated as always, especially when he stood next to hers and Gai’s beaming faces and an uncomfortable Lee who seemed to want to bolt from the picture so he could resume his ultra-marathon.

But she of all people knew that this was not his true face at all.

Until the war that cruelly claimed his life too soon, Hyuuga Neji showed her a kinder, mellower side of him that she knew not many people knew he was capable of.

The proof stood on her table in all their elegance and grace-- the vase of fragrant night lilies that he intentionally picked just for her. Flowers that bloom at their most beautiful during the nights, in order to entertain her and keep her company during the hours that she was all by herself.

It was his way of telling her that being alone didn’t have to mean being lonely. That happiness wasn’t just something you exclusively get from other people.

Years after he passed away, she finally realized why she couldn’t quite forgive him for the sacrifice he made.

It wasn’t merely because he left her to her own devices in dealing with Gai and Lee. No, that wasn’t it.

It was actually because Hyuuga Neji might just have been her first love... and her first heartbreak, following his untimely demise.

If she were to be asked if Neji was the reason she didn’t actively pursue romance from that point on, then she would respond with a resounding ‘no’.

She harbored what-ifs and nostalgia, but not trauma from losing someone precious to her. If anything, her loss only strengthened her will to protect the village so no one would have to make Neji’s sacrifice again.

She had no intention to close any doors, whether it be one, five, ten, or thirty years from now. But she wasn’t in much hurry to find herself a man, either.

With the peace and contentment she had found for herself, she had bigger things to worry about than how long her eggs could remain viable, or how there were less and less partners to choose from as women like her age further.

She has found her own path, and she was going to keep at it.

Wherever he was right now, she knew Neji must be suppressing a smile of approval. He’s got her back, like he always had.

As the clock struck twelve, officially ending her birthday celebration, Tenten stored the leftover sake in the refrigerator while Hachiko took his place by the foot of her bed.

The first day of her adventure at 29 and single was about to begin... after a good night’s binge sleeping, that is.

<END>

#tenten appreciation week #nejiten #tenten #hyuuga neji #fanfic #SyaoWrites

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weare1520 · 7 years

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1520 BLOG: 1520'S TOP 10 GAMES OF 2016

Hey everybody,

2016 has been a weird year video games. It brought us several nice surprises, plenty of critically acclaimed and daring AAA games, a continuous stream of indie gems, and of course the record breaking, history making Pokemon Go. It however was also the year in which the AAA games market started to really deteriorate. In an industry as unpredictable as the video games industry, who knows if that trend will continue, but we personally expect some big changes in the next few years. What those will be is anyones guess. When it comes to 2017, we look forward to the Nintendo Switch, to finding out if consumer VR will make it after all and if incremental consoles will actually become a real thing, and of course to playing some great new games. For now though, let's take a minute to look at back at our favorite games of 2016.

1. Mafia 3 (Xbox One)

Mafia 3 is a special game. It was rightfully applauded and criticized for how it tackled racial and broader political tensions in the American South of 60s. It was also applauded and criticized for its mission design and gameplay. Some people said it was repetitive and lazy, while some (most notably Far Cray 2 fans) enjoyed its potential for randomness and chaos. I, for what it's worth, loved it. It reminded me a lot of Assassin's Creed Syndicate's open world and mission design, which is great. It had great writing, great characters, some beautifull vistas and amazing gunplay (which, even 10 years after Gears of War, is apparently not a given). It might not have been a critical darling (shoutout to Waypoint's Austin Walker and Danielle Riendeau for riding hard for Mafia 3), but it is our favorite game of the year 2016.

2. Tokyo Mirage Sessions (WiiU)

Tokyo Mirage Sessions is a Persona-like JRPG made by Atlus, set in the Japanese idol scene, only that scene is being invaded by demons that feed on artistry and talent and you have to fight them by summoning characters from Nintendo's Fire Emblem series - unless you'd rather walk around in a colorful version of Tokyo and eat bagels of course, because you can do that too. If that isn't enough for you to understand why it is easily one of the best games of 2016, I don't know how to help you. Just look at this video of an actual attack move in the game, I guess.

3. Fire Emblem Fates (3DS)

I have to be honest, even after playing countless of hours of both Birthright and Revelations (two of the three different games released under the name Fire Emblem Fates), I'm not sure I actually know how to play Fire Emblem. I guess I'm just bad at strategy games. That doesn't change the fact that the gameplay is strangely addicting, the writing is great and the cutscenes are beautiful. Thank God for Phoenix Mode.

4. Pokemon Sun/Moon (3DS)

Some people, both critics and random people, will tell you that this is the game that significantly changed the Pokemon formula. Those people, most of which appear to be people brought back to the series by Pokemon Go, are wrong. Yes, they made some changes (in my humble opinion, mostly bad ones - where the fuck is Super Training?!?), but it's still very much a fairly traditional Pokemon game. That just means that it is another entry in what might just secretly be the best and most consistent video game franchise of all time though, so we'll take it.

5. Gears Of War 4 (Xbox One)

Gear of War 4 is a return to form for the series after the disappointment that was Judgement (although even that entry still had better shooting mechanics than most other games - get it together, developers). It's really what you'd expect from a Gears Of War game, only this time with millennials in it (do they have millennials in the Gears universe?!). It's still the mechanically best third person shooter series on the market, it still has great split screen co-op, and the competitive multiplayer is still comically brutal and hard as hell.

6. Battlefield 1 (Xbox One)

Unlike many AAA games this year (including this year's Call Of Duty), Battlefield 1 outperformed publisher expectations. I give it a lot of credit to DICE and EA for realizing that the future warfare trend is a sinking ship. The fact that Battlefield 1 is set in World War 1, with its rudimentary machinery and basic guns, makes it feel weirdly fresh compared to the fast paced shooters that have dominated the last few years. It also has the best Battlefield multiplayer since Bad Company 2, meaning it's absolutely amazing.

7. Steep (Xbox One)

If the idea of a somewhat realistic feeling snowboarding/skiing (the rest is fun but whatever) game with a beautiful open world appeals to you, Steep is the game for you. If not, I imagine it is boring as hell. The beautiful open world, based on the alps, is largely about discovering drop points (which let you fast travel) and being able to just ride for a long time. Just driving down the mountain with no particular goal in mind delivered some of my favorite gaming moments of 2016. The missions are more of a menu-based thing, although you can start one just by driving through a circle if it happens to be on your path. It's all very seamless. Once you started a mission and fuck up you can press Y and instantly respawn, old school Tony Hawk style. Steep is a criminally overlooked gem and we're still amazed and thankfull that Ubisoft released a AAA winter sports game in 2016. We'd love to see more games like it.

8. Firewatch (Xbox One)

Firewatch is what some would call a "walking simulator", but if you ask me, it's a narrative driven adventure game. The game and its mysterious story are set in a beautifully rendered national park, which is really the main draw of Firewatch. It allows you to get lost in the moment, even if you don't follow the story. The fact that it was made by some of our favorite people in the video game industry makes it even better.

9. Dishonored 2 (Xbox One)

Dishonored 2, a steampunk first person stealth game, is a lot like Dishonored 1. In some ways that is too bad, because we would have liked to seen more from a next gent Dishonored, but Dishonored 1 was was also a really, really good game, and this one might be even better. What really stands out about this series is how it allows you to solve problem in a multitude of ways. The amount of stuff you can do in this game is sometimes overwhelming, but always worth exploring. Also, the world building is some of the best in the industry. Don't sleep on Dishonored 2.

10. Dragon Quest 7 (3DS)

Dragon Quest 7 for the Nintendo 3DS is a remake of the original Dragon Quest 7 for the PS1, one of the more unpopular entries in the series. The 3DS version still does not magically turn it into one of the best Dragon Quest games, but it heavily improved the game regardless. It's fun, it's charming, it's deep, it's occasionally annoyingly tough and grindy, and it is long as shit. What I'm trying to say is that it is a Dragon Quest game and I'll always want another Dragon Quest game.

Honorable Mentions

Stardew Valley, which I've only started playing last week, is pretty damn good, but I still think it's a little too blatant in its copying of Harvest Moon. Rune Factory 4, a game made by the actual minds behind the Harvest Moon (now Story Of Seasons) series, came out several years ago, but I played and enjoyed it a lot in 2016. I also played a lot of Tony Hawk's Underground for the GameCube, a game from 2003, and it's still better than pretty much every game on our list.

That's it for 2016. Thanks for riding with us.

One Love,

M | 1520

#Video Games #Gaming #Games Of The Year #GOTY #Mafia 3 #Nintendo

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bonesingerofyme-loc · 4 years

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in which what the fuck happened

so i’ve finally gotten around to watching season 4 of the expanse, everyone’s favorite science fiction tv show. i shall not call it a space opera because i actually know what a space opera is.

i’ve just finished episode 8 and what precisely the fuck happened though

this season is a mess

in no particular order, we have

* the Ilus plot, in which it appears the Bezos Bux weren’t enough to afford a larger cast, so there’s three belters with speaking roles and a really, really bad rebellious teenager plot that makes me feel like i’m watching a fucking scalzi novel (which is not praise). The Ilus plot in which murtry swings between being a Bad Man with Justifiable Reasons to being a mustache twirling villain, where Holden doesn’t just hold the idiot stone, he fucking swallows it along with Elvi and also the TV show does that TV show thing where they make really, really stupid design choices that leave you scratching your head. more on this all later

* the earth plot, in which Chrisjen Avasarala is never wrong once but everyone around her acts like she’s executing her political opponents in the streets and trying to sacrifice babies to satan

* the mars plot, in which bobbie has a nervous breakdown over the course of about three days and resets all her character development to her first introduction

* the belter plot in which Dummer continues to be a national treasure and Not-Ashford is still very enjoyable and they prove they are the only competant fucks in the entire fucking Belt but the writers do their level best to sabotage every second of it

Right, so, specifically

Let’s start with Ilus

I think my overall issues here can be summed up with this statement

“The set design, knowing that the heroes would be riding out a world spanning tsunami and flood, decided the optimal way to adapt the descriptions of the shell buildings from the novel to be THIRTY FEET UNDER THE SURFACE OF THE FUCKING PLANET THAT IS GOING TO BE FLOODED.”

My brother and I looked at each other and burst out laughing at the end of the episode in which Holden gets yote across the room by the deluge of water. The deluge of water from the planetwide tsunami. The deluge of water from the planetwide flood that placed the water a good forty feet ABOVE the interior rooms.

The planetwide flood that did not begin to recede for days. In a building riddled with holes and also one big giant one they made.

This encapsulates to many of the problems in this season in a single example. Writing choices and design choices that appear to be conceived of in the moment without any thought to the rest of the plot. Drama for the sake of drama. Convenient reveals after the fact to patch holes set up by the previous lack of foresight.

We later see the entry area is flooded, appearing to imply that the room they descend into initially is just a lower area that totally flooded and that they are at ground level in the rest of the complex. As if to acknowledge that, oops, yes, maybe having this complex be situated forty feet under the water level with holes all the fuck over means everyone would drown, so here’s a solution - except, except

When everyone got in right before the flood, they were all standing packed like sardines down in that low entry room. Which started flooding due to the fucking firehose deluge that came in because hello a piece of reinforced sheet metal isn’t going to be watertight in the slightest. So you’ve got water pouring into a small contained space packed with about forty people and supplies - that’s going to be ruining supplies and equipment because it’s saltwater and people are going to be panicking. How do they climb out the other side? There’s no ropes or lines there, it would seem, since everyone was still shuffling around in the entry area when the flooding started. How do they managed to get ropes or lines up to the higher areas in the building before people are trampled or drowned or all their supplies ruined? Why the fuck didn’t the goddamn building just have openings on the ground level leading into a bunch of interior rooms like it fucking did in the fucking novel because the fucking authors despite their other fucking flaws at least fucking planned ahead and had fucking editors that fucking made sure that things were fucking intelligently designed?

Oh, right. So that we could have a fucking scene where Holden has to escape from a closing door or be smushed. Because Holden definitely was in danger of dying and everyone believed it. Fuck. PLAN MORE THAN ONE EPISODE AHEAD.

Related to that - I’m loving the insistence that TV and movies have to make everything related to the main character, and not even tangentially. Directly, directly related. Remember how Ilus fucking asploding was a major oops that wasn’t anyone’s fault? Now it has to specifically be Holden’s fault since he can’t stop sticking is dick in things, so all the deaths are directly on his shoulders. Great job. Really, really great.

A nitpick here that doesn’t matter - remember when the moons were described as low-albedo and the nights were super dark? Pepperidge Farms remembers.

The Felcia plotline is awful too. Some random teenager stows away to orbit and then becomes instrumental in saving the Barbapiccola despite no experience and completely overriding the actual crew on board. Come on. Come on.

Also - thanks Holden and Elvi, you utter mouthbreathing nonces for not once thinking ‘Gee, maybe I should ask/tell about the MEDICATIONS THAT I AM CURRENTLY ON.’ It doesn’t make it an epiphany moment or a revelation when they realize his oncocidals are the cure, it makes them looking like absolute idiots. Holden, you shoot up daily. DAILY. You told Elvi about being a genetic hybrid. You didn’t think to tell her about the eighty gorillion rads you ate like soup on Eros and the fact that you’re swimming in anti-cancer meds?

Come the fuck on. Come. The. Fuck. On.

Stop making characters idiots to make the plot work.

Leaving Ilus, there’s Earth.

Fucking Earth.

So Arjun is now Avasarala’s campaign manager and a completely different person. The lack of chemistry between the two actors is so profound that scientists are considering writing a thesis on it as quantum mechanics actually should forbid such an extreme effect. He’s also not Arjun, since he’s alternating between unctuous and judgmental about as often as Naomi switches between an English accent and a butchered attempt at Belter. So that’s swell, we have to deal with a new actor and a brand new character who is awful and should never have been because Arjun was a chill lad and didn’t deserve this.

On the poitical side is Avasarala, who literally cannot stop being right all the time. Seriously, why is everyone up her ass about THE MEANS AND THE ENDS AND YOU LIE AND ITS ALL ABOUT YOU.

I mean sure it is all about her but she hasn’t been wrong yet. And a person can be both selfish and helpful. I couldn’t believe with Arjun got asspained about Avasarala leaking confidential footage of ancient inimitable alien machines that melt moons and blow up hemispheres of planets when the 0 and 1s are switched as a completely reasonable attempt to instill a very healthy and very justified caution in the general populace over the gigantic alien relic that was made out of a hundred thousand people ground up into blue gatorade and marinated on Venus after it broke the fucking laws of physics several times to link up to a pocket dimension that casually rewrites it’s own rules.

Like what the fuck Arjun, where do you get off judging Avasarala for releasing information about the extremely unpredictable and dangerous two billion year old alien doom machines that are scattered around the galaxy. Is it totally to her own benefit? Absolutely. Is it also totally the right thing to do? Also absolutely because you’ve got Gao hot under the collar about wanting to yeet every willing body through the ring gates into a hotbed of who-the-fuck-knows and acting like it’s the best thing since sliced bread.

Fuck.

Then we’ve got the marine raid. Avasarala is approached by her military advisors and generals who present to her a plan of action to go after a known terrorist who just attempted a direct attack on Earth’s defenses, defenses that I might add are not like ‘to keep people out’ but are actively existential defenses. So they bring a plan to her, lay it out, and she approves it, then when it goes tits up, the fucking General who planned it, brought it to her and executed it has the gall to blame HER for it failing (what) then resign because he can’t serve someone who plays loose with his soldier’s lives (WHAT) and then everyone gets assmad at her for costing like twelve marine’s lives in an attempt to capture a terrorist responsible for several hundred deaths already (WHAT) and then, and THEN siding with the OPA for Avasarala ‘breaking the peace’ when the UN went after a terrorist the OPA is known to have let go???

What the FUCK was going on in the writing room.

Meanwhile on Mars, Bobbie is going batshit insane. After btfoing a bunch of druggies to save her nephew she gets roped into some illegal stuff and then has a moral conundrum about it for maybe five seconds and then it like yeah nvm let’s steal this shit Y E E T. The very same Bobbie that was willing to go AWOL from her command, run to her own nation’s enemy during a cold war and refuse to ever budge on her testimony because the truth and honor meant that much to her.

Yeah.

Okay.

Then she meets a dude on sunday, goes on a date with him monday and tuesday, they bang on wednesday, then on friday he gets a job on Europa and is gonna leave and they have a fight as if they’d been seeing each other for months.

Uh.

Unless this show is doing completely different time scales for different plots, which they’ve failed utterly to communicate, we know how much time has passed. Bobbie met the dude like a fucking week ago, why is this full bore romantic drama as if they’d been in a committed relationship for months? They’ve literally banged twice in a hotel room and not even stuck around for cuddles.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

I don’t have much to complain about with Drummer and Ashford. I really like them both and both are fun to watch. They’ve also been treated the most reasonably too in terms of not acting like fuckwits or being dealt retarded hands by the plot thus far.

This season is awful. The Expanse was always subtitled ‘The Expounding’ because of how characters could, at the drop of a hat, produce a minute long monologue about anything, but this season it’s taken that and cranked it to eleven. Every other sentence is an ingratiating platitude about ‘hopeful we’re hopeful future happy live we’ll live yay see each other again strong be strong and brave firm strong and hopeful’. Fuck. Naomi exists to look sad and give brave monologues to people, especially the now lobotomized Lucia who apparently did die and came back without agency. Alex sort of just exists, drifting from scene to scene as if saying ‘I’m still here, guys. Guys? Guys...’ every antagonist takes three minutes to lay out their life story and evil beginnings and rationale only to suddenly flip the tables a few episodes later only to play a reverse uno card and be mustache twirlingly diabolical right after.

Oh yeah, and because this is my personal autism button:

NO, ELVI, THAT IS NOT HOW LIFE WORKS. LIFE MIGHT NOT ‘JUST AS EASILY’ BE BASED ON SOMETHING ELSE. THAT IS NOT HOW FUCKING PHYSICS WORKS. OTHER ELEMENTS ARE NEITHER AS PREVALENT NOR AS USEFUL IN FORMING BONDS AS CARBON. YOU COULD SAY ‘LIFE MIGHT RARELY AND EXTREMELY DIFFICULTLY BE MADE OF SILICON’ BUT DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE SAY ‘JUST AS EASILY. ALSO IRON. IRON. ARE YOU REALLY, REALLY GOING TO SAY IRON COULD BE USED AS A CHEMICAL BASIS FOR LIFE, BECAUSE HOLY COSMIC BULLSHIT BATMAN.

IN THE WORDS OF HERMIONE GRANGER: ARE YOU A HARD SCIFI OR NOT??

#the expanse #james holden #amazon the expanse #chrisjen avasarala #drummer #james sa corey #season 4 has been terrible and did they fire the entire previous writing team #if you propose silicon based life could be even as remotely common as carbon based i will find you and i will make you eat a fucking mynock

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