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asturlavi · 3 years

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oh boy, do i have wonderful beast oda/odazai info for you all since this may just be my favorite chapter in all of beast. it clarified a lot about oda's state in this au, and how sad it truly is, especially with all that dazai has done to ensure that oda's safety is certain

before i start, this was initially intended to be a quirky little twitter thread that’s supposed to be kicked off with a badly drawn doodle of something meme. the thread was supposed to be about how wonderfully dumb odasaku can be and how annoyingly frustrating dazai is in the latest beast chapter... and then it slowly devolved into a crudely written essay about small discoveries i’ve made that most likely haven’t been pointed out before, so i recommend that anyone interested in either oda or odazai to check this out

so i finally got around to reading the new beast chapter and seeing how odasaku constantly devalues himself and finds that he's lesser than the average person is… sad. its been said that him and ranpo are the stars of the ada, every mission trivial with their cooperation, and yet he doesn't see any of that. thinks he struck luck when it came to his entrance exam, which he specifies that it wasn't as a result of his own skills. his inferiority complex is embedded so deep that despite his achievements, he doesn't at all believe he has any worth as a human.

i'm just a tired, ordinary man like you could find anywhere. a third-rate detective, as unexceptional as a fallen cigarette butt on the road.

and his entrance exam was just like dazai's: the azure messenger case, which we all know wasn't at all a walk in the park. one mistake, and it would spell disaster for the city that the ada was trying to protect. no--not just the city, it would also mean the end of the ada as we know it. despite it all, he resolved it much to his own surprise, and it was all thanks to an "unexpected" gift. and that gift? who would it be other than from dazai himself?

beast light novel ch. 3

(also, this is a shaky claim at best but I feel as if oda fully holds the capabilities to solve the case alone, but dazai knew that with odasaku's persistent feelings of self-doubt, along with his lack of some of the vivacity that dazai held to weasel his way through to information, the outcome of success wouldn’t be guaranteed. and so, dazai lent him something to ensure his success)

and yet, oda is blind to see truly how much intellect and skill he possesses. he doesn't realize how integral he was to the quest of the azure messenger, doesn't acknowledge that without him these orphans would have either slipped into a life of crime, gone to a downtrodden orphanage, or simply passed away, and he doesn't know that despite it all, he's one of the purest characters in the story, even with the darkness that will forever cling to him, a reminder of the violence that marred his past.

not to mention that oda, in one way or another, effectively analyzed the current situation that they're stuck in. he noted that if things currently go the way they're going, no matter what akutagawa achieves, him and his sister are doomed. so, oda brilliantly decided to go after the port mafia itself to prepare for this possibility, and it's nothing short of genius. and dazai plays along with this… because it is oda, after all.

and everything dazai did, everything he sacrificed, it was all for oda.

now to the underlying tragedy of this chapter. take a look at this panel:

ever since then, i've been making a living by solving requests that come to the detective agency.

i provide for the orphans

i drink coffee.

i gamble a bit on days off.

at night, i write a novel in the kitchen.

that's my life.

nothing unusual, right? you'd think that odasaku was satisfied with life, since he has everything he had ever wished for. but in all actuality, he still lacks one important thing.

and that's friendship.

his words sounded so… empty. achieving ones dreams is but one aspect of life that brings one gratification, but doesn't necessarily mean it would guarantee lasting happiness. (think of famous actors or celebrities that spiral into depression even after they've achieved their dreams).

in that panel, he says he cares for the orphans, gambles, and writes alone in his spare time, but not a word of spending time with friends… something he had in the root universe, something that was lost to him in this one.

and he says this all with his face blacked out, as if he's somewhat implicitly dissatisfied (while the kid's faces are present, not at all concealed).

with dazai, he found peace in a place where peace is rare to find. They both completely put their guard down with each other around, and dazai can relax his overly speculative mind with oda. and they understood each other, a level of understanding rare to come by. dazai with his dark jokes easily flies past oda's ears because that's what they are, harmless jokes. and oda with his blunt honesty, which dazai cherishes and never prods him for it.

dazai also saw things in oda that oda was blind to. dazai saw a world of beauty in oda, the ray of light beneath a cloudy sky. he saw both intelligence and wisdom, kindness and generosity. and most of all, he trusted oda, despite dazai’s natural inclination to distrust.

and what oda saw in dazai was vulnerability. despite the front that dazai puts, he can be kind, even empathetic, when the situation calls for it. dazai once gave akutagawa a decision to turn his back against dazai’s offer to join the port mafia, when logic points to the fact that he didn't have to, but wanted to.

dazai also consistently gives atsushi words of advice and shows understanding when dazai was under no obligation to, such as atsushi facing the loss of his previous caretaker. dazai gave atsushi genuine advice, not laced with any malice or ill intent. dazai had even left atsushi to grieve alone, fully understanding that atsushi needed to pour his emotions out in private. there’s more than enough instances of dazai showing this side of himself in both the light novels and manga, but it seems to sometimes be brushed aside. even though the main cast of characters always dismissed this side of dazai, oda has always known that this side of dazai was his truest self.

oda and dazai also talked endlessly about trivial things, calling each other daily for two hours for no reason other than that they each enjoy one another's company. it's pure, wholesome love. they had a mutual trust and understanding between one another, which ango, another friend of theirs, severely lacked in his friendship with them.

oda's dream was to write, gone unfulfilled in the root universe, but he died happily knowing that the one he cares for is living in the path of light. dazai's was to find a reason to live, which he found in oda, and continues to use this as motivation long after oda passed.

in beast, dazai's dream was cut short, ultimately leading to his demise at the end. after all, his one reason to live is now robbed from him. however, oda's dreams have become a reality, but can one really say he achieved happiness? he has the orphans, his children, but they will never understand him like dazai had. he has peace, but is it the form of peace he wanted? spending time alone, on things like gambling, while endlessly mulling how he has no one to spend this time with?

and writing, his one true wish that dazai made absolutely sure to make a reality. but was it worth it, at the cost of a friend who brought happiness and reprieve when everyone else failed to?

i thought of this tale as a matter of equivalent exchange, you lose one life in exchange for another. the scales do remain somewhat balanced, but not over a matter of lives. it's over a matter of personal sacrifices, ones only known to us readers.

and i say "somewhat" because in the root universe, dazai remembered oda when he was alive, so well that dazai can recall memories to near perfection. but oda had completely forgotten dazai in beast, chasing after absent memories and deluding himself into thinking his life is perfect, while numbing himself from the aching hole of loneliness that consumes him inside.

also, oda is surely happy spending time with the children, but what about his lonesome hours? who is he going to spend that time with, in a world without dazai, the only person who understood him and his oddities?

ah, and remember this moment in the root universe?

now, take a look at this again. no, look closer

odasaku wasn’t merely gambling for the sake of it, he was gambling on a horse race. and before dazai was arrested in the root universe, he was seen doing just that.

now, why would odasaku do this? he surely doesn’t seem the type to gamble away his money on something as silly as horse races, because what does someone gain while they pour their money into something so senseless?

and the only reason i could arrive to is that dazai must have dragged him along to one. dazai is a port mafia executive, with more money than he knows what to do with and a boatload of depression. money probably disinterests him as much as life does, and he used gambling to kill two birds with one stone: ridding of money he doesn’t need, and distracting him from his boredom (and depression).

and it doesn’t end there. remember when dazai in dead apple had visited bar lupin to pay his regards to odasaku, while reliving a pleasant memory dazai had with him? and he did this because he was preparing for a quest that may result in with the loss of his life, psyching himself up for what’s to come. this is probably bordering on speculation, but i believe that that’s precisely what he did once again in the horse races. dazai paid a visit to a place that oda and him had frequented, to prepare for another dangerous quest.

also, note that immediately after exiting bar lupin in dead apple, dazai was confronted by ango, which kicked off the start of dazai’s plans. a similar thing happens in the manga, dazai spending time in a place that he and oda had gone to, this time the horse races, and his plan whirls into motion as jono arrests him. i think these similarities are deliberate, in order to establish their significance to dazai and oda.

this long winded explanation’s purpose was only for me to go back to this panel once again, and say that everything oda spoke about doing, from spending time with his kids, to brewing coffee, to betting on horse races, and to writing in the kitchen, were all moments he had with dazai.

and see that he has an extra chair that sits unused in the kitchen? at first, i thought it was there for the sake of being there. then, it slowly dawned on me that odasaku and dazai had noted in the dark era light novel that they made a habit of visiting each other, so it wouldn’t be illogical to conclude that it was a chair meant for dazai. a place where he can spend some private moments together with oda underneath the dimly lit kitchen, drinking in the scent of odasaku’s coffee and talking about things that distracts them from their troubles while odasaku whittles away at his manuscript.

and one last thing before i end this out of sheer laziness, take a look at this photograph of oda from the final moments of the beast light novel.

as oda stated in the manga and light novel, he worked on his manuscript alone in the kitchen... but in the photograph, he wasn’t alone. he’s posing for a picture. relaxed, poised, as if entertaining the one taking the photo. and besides, wasn’t it dazai who insisted on taking photographs in bar lupin with ango and oda in dark era? he must have done the same in that very moment in the beast universe, but this time in anticipation of oda forgetting him.

in the end, it seems oda and dazai left each other in similar ways, foolishly believing they've sacrificed their lives for each other to better the other's life, but all they did was create worlds where the feeling of happiness will be lost to both respective parties, while also resigning each other to a life of loneliness.

they've forgotten about their one happiness that stems from just being around one another, listening to the soothing tune of jazz playing softly as they talk into the night, the world lost to them as they're absorbed in one another's presence.

it seems like their story is a tragedy of what happens when you love someone too much, to the point that you delude yourself into thinking you're but a tool for their happiness, and with you gone, nothing will change.

but things did change, didn't they?

#odazai #bsd #bungo stray dogs #oda sakunosuke #osamu dazai #bsd beast #i'm never doing this again

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gotnofucks · 3 years

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Parts of Whole

(No images are mine, but I did edit them. If anyone knows the owners, do let me know so I can credit them)

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes, Sam x Steve (platonic)

Summary: Steve would see his OTP’s ship sail, even from across the grave.

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions of death (nothing graphic and not very sad), language, angst + fluff

A/N: I saw the trailer for tfatws and I just had to write this. This is also my entry for the amazingly talented @sagechanoafterdark and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork challenge (pic prompts above). Thank you for hosting this and being wonderful. The beautiful dividers are made by @firefly-graphics . Huge thanks to @the-inquisitive-hobbit for beta reading and giving me her very valuable insight.

It never felt right in his hands. It was his to wield, his to claim, and yet it never felt more foreign. The concentric red and white circles with the star embedded in the blue center glared back at him from the mirror. It had been months, but Sam had never taken this shield with him to any mission. He couldn’t.

It felt starkly cold in his hands, lifeless and materialistic. It was Steve’s symbol of strength and hope. It used to hang on his back, warmed by his body heat. Now, it seemed like the shield only existed to remind him of Steve’s absence. This shield was made for Steve. It belonged to him, it always would. How could he ever stand where he stood? How could Sam ever be the captain that Steve was, take this shield that held more power than a crown on a head?

He put it down again, covering it with a cloth before shutting the door on it, leaning heavily against it. He missed him, he missed him like a throbbing wound that refused to heal. If only he could see the sun shining on those golden locks again, have those baby blue eyes smile at him again. What wouldn’t he give for that.

He didn’t notice he wasn’t alone until a heavy hand was on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Sam didn’t open his eyes, just let the weight of it anchor him, let it bring him back from the chaos that was his mind. The cold metal hand felt like a relief against the overwhelming burden of grief that penetrated his being whenever he touched the circular shield.

“I miss him too.” Bucky said, and Sam opened his eyes. Bucky’s eyes were blue too, slightly grey where Steve’s were green. He could see himself reflected in them and he straightened, looking away, hiding his weakness.

This mantle of Steve Rogers that he was supposed to assume, this legacy he was supposed to take forward felt like cheating. His friend, his mentor, his brother was no more. How could people just expect him to move on? But they did. It didn’t matter he was emotionally compromised, it didn’t matter he wanted to drown, like Steve nearly had at the Potomac all those years ago. The world didn’t wait to create one disaster after another. They needed Captain America then, and they needed him now. Like Fury said, trouble always sticks around.

Sam cleared his throat, making sure he was collected before looking at Bucky again.

“Everything loaded in the Quinjet?” He asked and Bucky nodded. They’ll be leaving for another mission soon, and Sam was glad he’ll have the sounds of battle to drown the war in his heart.

“Sam.” Bucky said once Sam started leaving. “Take it.”

Sam looked at Bucky over his shoulder, his gaze equal parts pain and accusation. Of everyone, Bucky shouldn’t be the one telling him this.

“I’ll meet you in the jet.” He said firmly and quickly marched to his room, shutting the door behind him. He hated coming back to the compound, the lingering memories of their fallen warriors whispering in his ears every time he was here. He preferred his little house in the woods where it was only Bucky and nature with him.

He took out his tactical gear, laying it on the bed and getting out his wings when he heard it.

“You are punishing yourself Sam.” Came his voice.

It was this moment where Sam broke, sliding down the wall and letting a few tears escape. He was gone but he never left him.

“How could you have been so selfish Steve. Why?” He asked, looking up to glare at Steve. Even dead he looked so handsome, so put together with his hands on his hips. He didn’t look like the old man they had buried a month after the battle. No. He was their Steve, their young, beautiful Steve who left them behind.

Sam didn’t know why he saw him. He didn’t know if this was a ghost or a creation of his mind. To him, it was Steve. It was Steve and it was a beautiful suffering to see him again every time he reappeared.

“I am sorry.” Steve said and knelt before Sam, looking apologetic. Sam didn’t try touching him. Not when the first hundred times his hand just went through him.

“You are? What for?” Sam asked. “For leaving behind your shield and title, for leaving me behind, or for abandoning a best friend you promised to walk till the end of the line with? What are you really sorry for Captain?”

Steve didn’t answer, he never did. He let Sam take out his hurt and anger, and Sam cried. In the privacy of his walls, he cried. He was so tired of pretending to be strong, to be happy. He hid behind his jokes and smiles, fooled the world which was so ready to move on while Sam was buried somewhere with Steve in the cemetery, half dead, half alive.

“I am sorry Sam, for everything.” Steve insisted. “But you need to stop punishing yourself for mistakes you never made. You can’t live this way.”

Sam snorted a laugh for even in death Steve was a humanitarian bastard. He didn’t come back to haunt his enemies; oh no the centenarian came back to help his friends. Why didn’t people see that he could never be Steve? That Sam Wilson can never, won’t ever be the Captain that Steven Rogers was.

“I hate you so much Steve, I really do.” Sam whispered, wiping his nose and getting up. Steve watched him getting changed, no barriers of shame between them from that side of the grave.

“You always said that. I have never heard a ‘I love you’ more pronounced than I do in your hate.” Steve commented with a soft smile, it widened when Sam gave him a half-hearted glare. It was amazing how they could go from having a painful conversation to joking, but that was how it worked with Steve. He knew Sam, he knew everything that made him laugh and made him smile.

“What are you doing here anyway? Don’t you have a tea party with Gandhi or some other do-gooder like you in the afterlife?” Sam grumbled, tightening the belt in his suit and attaching his wings to it. Steve chuckled, sitting on the chair and watching Sam with a relaxed smile.

“They are too uptight for me. Mother Teresa tried to adopt me the other day” Steve said, and Sam laughed. His wings were the colours of American Flag, a new change. He grabbed his weapons and fixed Steve with a look, hating and loving him for being so him.

“I’ll see you after the mission?” He asked tentatively. He would never admit it, but he feared one day Steve would disappear again. It was crazy, it was not normal to see dead people, but Sam would rather have a shadow of Steve than just a memory.

“I’ll be here as long as you need me Sam. Always.” Steve said, a sad smile on his face when he saw Sam leaving without the shield.

Sharon greeted him in the jet, talking to Bucky and the other agents over the blueprint spread before them. Sam nodded his hello, snatching the half empty pack of Cheetos from Bucky’s hand and munching on it.

“So now you want to steal the show and my food. You’re such a dick Wilson.” Bucky said, poking Sam in his shoulder and Sam poked his tongue out at him, a gap-toothed smile on his face. Their previous somber interaction would not be mentioned, filed again like so many inside the neglected corner of their minds.

“Bitch, I paid for grocery this month. This is technically mine.” Sam replied, making Bucky scowl. Sam knew there was a 70-30 chance he’ll find his bed crawling with centipedes when they got back home.

“Charming, boys.” Sharon remarked rolling her eye. “What are you guys doing for Christmas? Must be nice to have a holiday.”

Bucky shrugged, sharing a look with Sam. It was their first Christmas without Steve, a 6 feet 2-inch void always between them.

“Nothing special. Stay home, watch movies, eat a lot.” Bucky said. A lot remained unsaid, but they rarely needed words to communicate anymore. Sam bumped his shoulder in his, offering him some Cheetos to munch while he silently grieved.

“Well, I’ll leave my address here for you to deliver your presents to me.” Sharon joked and Sam laughed softly, mentally making a note to get her something.

“Alright then, and I’ll just casually remark that my phone and laptop are both in serious need for an upgrade. Just saying.” Sam said. “Hey Buck, what are you going to gift me?”

Bucky crumpled the empty chips packet before sending Sam an amused glare, flipping him off.

“A ball gag, so that I can hear something other than your stupid voice.” He snarked.

“Damn dude, at least ask me out for dinner before getting kinky.” Sam winked and Bucky swelled with indignation, pointing an accusing metal finger at Sam.

“I cook dinner 3 times a week you bastard, and I don’t even burn it!” He protested making Sam laugh louder than ever. He loved making Bucky mad, teasing him into an incensed rage that usually ended in a pillow fight or sometimes with Sam’s head in a headlock.

They straightened as they saw the incredulous looks on the new agents’ faces, baby agents as Bucky liked to call them. It was times like these, when both the battle-hardened veterans missed their lost teammates, the inside jokes that were shot around with as much precision as bullets and arrows on the battlefield.

They got to work again, discussing the mission and its details with the other agents. Sam would run point on scaling the territory and fly down to the enemy base with two agents while Bucky would guide him from up here and take out potential threats. They just needed to secure a technological innovation and it didn’t seem too like much work. As Sam poured over the briefing, his eyes subconsciously went over to Bucky who was fiddling with the equipment, making sure everything was in working condition.

If someone had told him a few years ago that Bucky would become his anchor, his solace in his darkest hours, Sam would have punched them in the face. But as it happened, they came to lean on each other, the only unchanged part of their older lives, the only person who made each feel that were still real, still alive. They were still annoyed by each other, but the arguments were more of a routine than an actual expression of resentment.

He didn’t realize he was staring until someone deliberately coughed behind him.

“He is so pretty, isn’t he?” Steve asked, though it was a rhetorical question. Bucky Barnes was a beauty, from his blue grey eyes to the new golden streaks running through his new arm. Sam tried not to notice the way Bucky’s armor clung to his muscles, his face looking almost boyish as he forgot the world and focused on his task.

“I thought you said I’ll see you after the mission.” Sam muttered, taking care that no one noticed him talking to air. He hurriedly looked away from Bucky when their eyes met, a heat rising in his cheeks that made Steve chuckle.

“I said I’ll be there when you need me. And it seems like you do.” Steve commented. He took the seat next to Sam, so near that Sam swore he could feel the heat emanating from his body.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Sam snapped, the smug look on Steve’s face making him wish he could touch him if only to be able to punch him. Stupid blonde best friends with perfect teeth and beautiful smiles and an ass that looked just as round after being dead.

“Oh, I think you do.” Steve said, shifting his gaze to Bucky. “I liked his hair longer but the shorter is going well with the new arm. Don’t you think?”

Despite himself Sam found himself nodding, admiring Bucky as he’d done a thousand times before. He liked his longer hair too, but without them falling in his face, he could see him better. And the arm. The new arm that gave Sam tingles in the most delicious ways, it had him flustered for three whole weeks after Bucky first showed up with it on him.

He didn’t know when it started, but Bucky had somehow become the most beautiful person to Sam. From the way he would make him the perfect mug of coffee to their little kitchen garden they started to keep themselves busy, he loved everything about him. Those moments where he would sense the turmoil inside Sam and silently slip his hands in Sam’s to assure him that he was there, these little moments endeared him even more.

Sam had lost count of how many times Bucky and he had woken up on the couch, sharing a blanket, both silently afraid to sleep alone. He had forgotten how many times he had spent kneeling at Bucky’s bedside, coaxing him out from a nightmare. Every moment spent in each other’s company, laughing, joking, mourning together, it brought them together in a way Sam had never imagined before.

“Tell him” Steve said, a wistful look on his face as he looked at his best friend. “He feels the same. I know.”

Sam shook his head, tearing his eyes away from Bucky with reluctance. He’d already lost so much, he wouldn’t lose Bucky too. Not because he has a minor, very minor teensy tiny crush on him.

“Man, shut the hell up.” He snapped.

“Who’re you talking to?” Bucky called out from across the jet and Sam’s head snapped up, mouth parting a little before he mumbled out a ‘no one’ and focused on the papers in his hand. Sometimes he felt guilty for keeping Steve a secret, for keeping Bucky away from his best friend. He knew Bucky cried into his pillow at nights, he knew because he’d held him then, tried his best to fill the cracks that appeared in the walls of Bucky’s heart as well as his own.

But then, Steve chose to come to him. Chose to talk to Sam. And he was afraid that telling anyone would disturb this magic, whatever this was. That he would once again have to bury Steve. So, he kept quiet. He buried this secret in the deep recesses of his mind, the initial worry of insanity long forgotten in favor of seeing his friend again.

“Do you even have a plan?” Bucky questioned, watching him prepare for the jump. Sam had a job for every agent accompanying him, but the idiot had not outlined anything for himself.

“I do.” Sam said, and when Bucky looked unconvinced, he lightly punched his shoulder. “You’re my plan, my backup. I scream, jump down and get my ass back up.”

Saying this, Sam jumped, the exasperated look on Bucky’s face imprinted behind his eyelids as his wings flared out and he floated.

Everything that could have gone wrong on this mission did, and Bucky was hysterical even before Sam’s call for backup came. He was going to kick Nick Fury’s ass, but before that he was going to bring his friend back in one-piece and chew him out for giving him a heart attack.

Sam’s wings took most of the weight of the fall, so he came back with a sprained ankle and bruises. Bucky was getting increasingly irritated when they came back home, their little secluded spot in the woods welcoming them with the smell of pine and wild grass.

“It’s not my fault Fury gave us shitty intel.” Sam groaned, “You can stop being salty now.”

Bucky remained quiet, the silent treatment going for almost the third day in row and Sam was at his wits end. It was stupid and ridiculous because Bucky almost always pulled the stupidest moves in the field, like stopping a bomb with his hand or listening to the villain’s evil monologue.

Steve was grinning as he leaned against the edge of the table, and with every suggestive wink he gave Sam, the new Captain America resisted the urge to throw a vase at him.

“He cares so much that he’s speechless.” Steve commented and Sam flipped him off. Dickhead has been giving running commentary of the thick tension in the air since they came back, and Sam was on the verge of calling for an exorcism.

“Why do you do that?” Bucky asked suddenly and Sam was so glad to hear him talk again it took him a while to understand the question.

“What?”

“This thing, looking somewhere and talking to yourself, or – I don’t know, you keep being weird.”

“You’re the one with the cyborg brain and arm and I’m weird” Sam tried deflecting. Bucky frowned, coming closer to sit near Sam, leaving abandoned Christmas decorations scattered around them. Clint had delivered it for them but neither had the heart to put them up.

“Sam.” Bucky deadpanned, and Sam sighed, resting his head back and avoiding eye contact. He looked at Steve who was still smiling, his beautiful face like a slap on the face and caress on the head at the same time.

It was more difficult than one would assume to explain. Why did Sam see Steve, and why did only Sam see Steve? Was it a hallucination, or his spirit? Would Steve go away if Sam confided in Bucky? Would Bucky be mad he didn’t tell him? There were so many questions, so many doubts, and yet as Sam looked into Bucky’s eyes, shining like sapphires, he couldn’t keep it to himself.

“Its…Its Steve.” He said, looking down and playing with the soft lint on his blanket. He didn’t hear Bucky say anything but moments later a metal hand gripped his, stopping its nervous movements.

“Steve?”

Sam gulped, the coolness of Bucky’s hand in his warming his heart, swelling it with hope and an emotion Sam was too afraid to acknowledge.

“Steve, he – he talks to me.” Sam confessed and tentatively looked at Bucky whose eyes were brimming with emotion. He expected him to call him crazy, or to get mad, but what he did not expect was Bucky to shift closer and take Sam’s other hand in his too.

“He talks to me as well.” Bucky said. Sam was breathless, both by the slight smell of cinnamon that came from Bucky and the way Bucky came even closer, close enough that he could count the flecks in his eyes.

“He does?” Sam asked and Bucky nodded.

“I don’t know how he does it with you, but whenever I need him, miss him, I feel him speak to me from here.” With this Bucky placed one of Sam’s hand on his chest, the beating heart under thumping strongly. Unconsciously, Sam’s hand caressed Bucky’s chest, mapped its muscles and the jagged scars that bulged under his left shoulder.

“I see him.” Sam admitted, unable to look away from Bucky. “I can see him”

Tears blurred his vision until they dropped on his cheeks, sliding down, and forging a river down, leaving a trail of hurt, betrayal, and loss in their wake. Bucky’s hand came up to wipe them away, staying on Sam’s cheek, playing with the soft hair on his chin.

“I see him too. In you.” Bucky said and they didn’t know who moved first, but their foreheads were touching and then their lips met in a chaste, hesitant kiss. Sam melted into his touch, molding himself to fall into Bucky’s larger frame, his arms circling his waist and pulling him closer. They kissed as if they had walked a hundred miles just to kiss each other, as if they had saved every last breath just to live this moment.

“I – I, Buck –” Sam began but Bucky shushed him, pulling him into another soul-searching kiss before pulling away.

“I know.” He murmured.

As Sam relaxed in Bucky’s warm embrace, lost himself in the blues of Bucky’s eyes, he noticed Steve from the corner of his eyes. There was sadness on his face, the pain of a goodbye in the creases around his eyes. But when he smiled, he smiled with genuine love and happiness. The two parts of his soul he’d left behind seemed to have found themselves, and with them Steve felt himself complete.

“Till the end of the line pals.” He whispered.

Sam never saw Steve again.

Their Christmas was not very festive in terms of decoration. There was still too much pain, too much suffering in their hearts. Steve and Nat’s pictures beamed at them from the walls, and Sam sent Pepper the confirmation that they’ll come over for New Years.

It was a beautiful thing about human nature, about how one rises from the ashes to become stronger. Sam and Bucky lost someone, but they found each other. In the shared grieve of their hearts, they discovered the love long buried in there, eagerly waiting to be spread and shared.

They stayed warm under the blanket, wearing oversized sweaters that they wouldn’t be caught dead wearing outside. The sweaters may or may not have been Steve's; the soldiers mutually decided to hold Steve close in this way. Sam’s heart was tripled in size, as his head rested in the crook of Bucky’s neck, the smell of chocolate and cinnamon melting together to make a little world of their own. Sam wondered if he would mind growing out his hair again.

“So, what did you get me?” Sam asked, knowing he wouldn’t mind if Bucky did get him that ball gag. Part of him almost hoping for it.

“How rude Wilson, here I’ve given you all of myself and you still thirst for more.” Bucky mocked and Sam tackled him into a hug, peppering kisses all over his face.

“Bitch, you’re lucky I lo-” Sam cut himself off, suddenly shy. The smirk on Bucky’s face melted into a smile, a hungry look in his eyes.

“Say it” Bucky ordered. And Sam did. The Captain obeyed his Sergeant without hesitation.

“I love you. I love you so freaking much! I got us the cheesiest gifts.” Sam said in excitement. He pulled away long enough to grab his gift from under the bed, giving it to Bucky to open. He watched with his bottom lip between his teeth as Bucky opened the box to pull out two chains, each dangling with a rectangular pendant.

Dog tags.

Their dog tags. Bucky raised his eyes to Sam’s, fisting his hand in Sam’s t-shirt to pull him closer into a searing kiss, all tongue and teeth and moans, hips grinding as passion merged with love and emotion.

“I love you!” Bucky growled and kissed Sam again. “And I got you chocolates that look like dicks. I didn’t know this would happen between us when I bought them, and I was going to give you a hint with them.”

Sam’s laughter echoed around their small house, the dopey smile on his face remaining intact as they ate candy and burnt sparklers into the night. In the colourful light that played on their faces, they held hands together, filling the void that was there with the warmth of each other.

“We can use the shield as a sleigh until you’re comfortable using it as a weapon.” Bucky mused and Sam smiled into his neck, thinking of a certain blond asshole who may have gone away, but will never be lost.

Permanent Taglist: @what-is-your-wish @shooting-star-love @stanmysoul @sweeterthanthis @scentedsongrebel @muralskins @rayofdawnworld @donutloverxo @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @angrythingstarlight @rockyrogers @slothspaghettiwrites @nerdygirl8203

CE & Steve : @littlegasps @bluemusickid @harrysthiccthighss @abeyyaaar @slytherinandoutasgard @empath-bunny

SebStan & Bucky : @sebastiansthot @its-izzys @harrysthiccthighss @empath-bunny

For this fic : @barnesandco

#ssholidaychallenge #sambucky #sam x bucky #sam wilson x bucky barnes #sam x steve #tfatws #fluff

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multiverseofimagines · 4 years

Note

Surprise bitch its me! Can you please do “I trust you, do you trust me?” From the fluff/angst prompt list with Kylo? So excited to read more from you 👉👈🥺 love you best friend.

Hey Bff! Of course! I love ya !

Kylo ran a hand through his black sweat dripping locks, breathing heavily from stress. He felt as if he could explode with anger and frustration. He didn’t know what to do, or how to control it.

For years now he had felt the connection, the Dyad between you two. It came within waves upon unexpected times, only for small moments, and never lasting long enough for him to know your name or who exactly you were. All he knew was the pain you endured, the suffering you felt upon the horrible hands you had been dealt within life. He didn’t know who the voices were, the continuous yelling and fighting, the constant arguments. The shaky sobs that would leave your cheeks tear stained is all he could see. Your life reminded him of his own when he had been a young boy, the arguing, the fighting, the constant battle between his parents.

After years of just glimpses, he made it a personal mission to find you, to take you away from those awful people who claimed to have loved you. They didn’t deserve you, only he did. Kylo was losing hope though, he had no information, not even a name, or a place. Just those glimpses. And as time went on, the weaker the connection got, and he couldn’t tell why.

What he didn’t know, was that you were almost completely cut off from the Force. You had no idea what the Jedi religion was, nor did you know much about the galaxy. You hadn’t left your parents underground bunker since you were a child. You were hidden. Too scared to leave. But you could see him, his black curls, flowing over his forehead, the scars his body was scattered with, his shivering lips in the middle of the night, when it all seemed to be crashing down. His silent sobs, too scared to even let you hear. You thought you had been going insane, losing your mind from being below the surface for so long, and yet it all felt so real. You wished for him every night, wished to be in his arms, protected from them.

He started to fade the more hopeless you became. His eyes were almost nothing but a memory now. But this feeling inside of you, never left your veins. His disappearance provoked something within you, a rage. Anger that you were so utterly alone. You were in a ball on the coldness of the floor, your fists bunched up, you screamed in pure heartbreak and loss, when everything within the room came tumbling down on top of you. You slowly broke out of the position, opening your eyes cautiously, only to see the room to be a disaster. You thanked the stars that your parents had been out, going on a trip to the city to buy some portions.

Kylo could feel it, he felt it in the middle of the night, the same rage that had been in you, awoke him from his slumber. His heart was racing, sweat dripped from his forehead, as he sat up in his bed. He felt as if his whole body was shaking, the connection more powerful than it had ever been. Once he realized this, he relaxed himself, focusing on the force, on you and your anger. He could see you. Your hands picking up things that had fallen to the ground, it was blurry for only a moment, until you could feel him too. You stopped in your tracks, turning around to face where you could feel his presence. You focused on what you could see, his eyes. Until it happened, the moment the two of you had waited for all your lives, the full picture of your other half, if only for a moment. He was there, as if he was in the room with you. Staring at you, softly. “Hello?” You whispered, scared of if this could even be real. “ It’s really you-” He bit his lip, his eyes threatening to water, being overthrown by emotions. “Who are you?Why?” You asked, he ignored your questions, “ Tell me your name, before it’s too late, so I can find you.” He rushed, afraid that these precious moments would be cut too short. You were taken a back, scared. Kylo could sense this, the fear you had felt your whole life came to haunt you, but he needed you to trust him, to put the fear away, and tell him your name.

“ I trust you, do you trust me?” His soft eyes took over you, pleading to know. You heard noises coming from the other room, your parents had came back. Kylo could hear the shuffling of their footsteps, he could feel your fear emerge once again, the image of you becoming blurry, “Please!” He screamed, and then nothing. You faded completely. Leaving Kylo rattling in sobs, pulling at his hair in despair as he whispered to himself,

“ I will find you, I swear on all the stars in the galaxy that I will find you.”

#zimmerxman sleepover #admin speaks #This was shit but thanks hun.#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren imagines #kylo ren

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solohux · 5 years

Note

omg hi you’re my favorite kylux blog and I was wondering if you have any angst fic recommendations? I was in the mood for heavy angst but with a happy ending? HUHU idk why that’s my favorite genre lol I love hurting my own feelings

Ahhh thank you for your kind words!!! Here are some of my favourite angst-with-a-happy-ending fics!

◾ Two Years, Two Months, and Twenty-Eight Days by @kyluxtrashcompactor & @nerdherderette & @pangolinpirate

It took less than twenty-four hours after they met to know that they were meant for each other. But it will take longer than that to get it right. (modern au, 90k)

◾ Wake Up, Sleeper by @penpenhooray

It would seem odd that the Resistance should always seem to get their information just a bit faster than the First Order. Of course, General Leia Organa knows the risks her mole is taking by sending her life saving information.Luke was confident in his padawan's ability to infiltrate the First Order to destroy it from the inside, and he trusted his pupil's instincts.And Hux? Well, he's spent over a decade as a sleeper agent within the bowels of the First Order when he feels an awakening in the Force, and he's decided it's time to begin the destruction of the First Order. And he's going to bring Ben back to the Light if it's the last thing he does. (sleeper agent hux, 57k)

◾ No One Wants to Die Alone by @mirlolo & @kyluxtrashpit

Frustrated with Hux’s continued, untraceable assassination attempts, despite trying everything to make his new Grand Marshal happy and make amends, Kylo drags Hux and only Hux on an unnecessary mission to some awful, swampy backwater planet as revenge. When they return, though, the symptoms of an unknown, serious disease land them both in the same quarantine room in the medbay, as well as spreads to some of the crew. They quickly learn that it’s hard to go through a near death experience with someone without getting closer to them in the process. (30k)

◾ On the upper glass shelf by @courgette96

There once was a lead soldier with a crack on his face, who lived under the bed where forgotten toys go.There once was a doll on the upper glass shelf, where fragile things are kept out of reach. There were many things between them: a whole room, a whole shelf, a Shadow that slithered under the bed. And something bigger still, that would allow them to overcome all of it. (toy au, 23k)

◾ Deus Ex Machina by @ballvvasher

Caleb is rescued from hopeless confinement by one of Nathan’s androids, a lively AI by the name of Ren. Ren—a prototype combative android with superhuman strength—believes Caleb to be Hux, the program Nathan developed to manipulate Ren into forming an authentic affinity for Caleb. For Ren, Hux—the love of his lonely life—only existed in his dreams. Until he finds him in the flesh behind the glass door. (20k)

◾ what death leaves behind us by @thethespacecoyote

Supreme Leader Armitage Hux never expected to see his dead lover again. Yet on the eve of the Resistance's complete destruction at his hands, Kylo Ren appears to Hux, reopening old wounds and bringing the selfish desires of both ghost and man to the surface. (9k)

◾ The Stars Shine For You by @babbushka

After overthrowing Snoke and assuming the throne, Kylo Ren finds being Supreme Leader isn't at all what he hoped it would be. With Hux angry at him, he wishes he had never been born, and when a special visitor shows up to give him guidance, Kylo realizes that his love for Hux can overcome any obstacle. (8k)

◾ In my veins by @ellstra

Hux had been hiding his Force-sensitivity for years, using it sparsely and with great caution, but it only takes one mission gone wrong and all his carefully built defences shatter to protect Kylo. Snoke is always eager to use up all power he can get. (6k)

◾ Punitive by Davechicken

After the Starkiller, Snoke punishes Kylo.Hux is there to pick up the pieces. (4k)

◾ So Darling, Feel Better Love by @frapandfurious

A small part of him closed off from Hux, one he hadn't even known was there until he'd heard a soft endearment spoken late at night. (3k)

◾ Missed by @cosleia

Hux has been acting differently toward Kylo since the First Order lost the Resistance on Crait, and Kylo can't handle it much longer. (3k)

◾ The Inevitable Pull by @zigzag-wanderer

Ren declares his feelings for Hux. Hux runs. Will Ren be able to accept Hux as he is, without wanting to change him? (3k)

◾ Glass Half Full by @sinceyouaskedmeforataleof

Starkiller has fallen. Kylo is gravely injured and unconscious in a bacta tank. Hux sits and watches, alone with his other grief- the loss of their pups. As more survivors of the disaster trickle into the med bay, things begin to change for Hux... (2k)

◾ Proved It by @darlingofdathomir

It isn't till Hux is mortally wounded that Kylo realizes how deep their feelings for each other truly go.Hux's attachment to him has been growing- Kylo's refusal to trust him stings, but he's kept it to himself- till now. (1k)

Happy reading!

#kylux #fic rec

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theartoftiinyideas · 5 years

Text

the most extravagant insult ever

[oikawa tooru x fem!reader]

a/n: can you tell i’m thirsting for everything haikyuu yeah okay me neither phew

word count: 2.1k

summary: “are we going to kidnap oikawa tooru?” “no, we’re doing something much better” it’s time to avenge a fallen sister! bring the revenge!

——————

“Can somebody please tell me what the hell we’re doing here?” You asked mostly in annoyance, but alarm was quickly beginning to set in as your two friends proceeded to haul you into one of the school labs’ supply closet that was surely to be unoccupied during lunch break. When you were supposed to be eating. Which you were just rudely dragged away from.

“Explain. Now.” You demanded as soon as all of you had crammed into the too small space, the door closing behind you to envelope the three of you in darkness. Great, just great, where was the damned light switch?

Someone turned on the flashlight on their phone—Sumiko, who else, she was the dramatic one—and brought it under her chin as if she was about to tell a creepy story around the camp fire. “Welcome, chosen ones, for our first official briefing.” She deepend her voice on purpose.

You rolled your eyes so hard you were surprised you hadn’t caught a glimpse of your brain, Kaori—your other friend—snorting beside you. No words were needed between the two of you to silently agree that whatever Sumiko was scheming now, it was best to go along with it. At least until both of you figured out what the hell her intention was. Then you could stop her from causing disaster.

“The culprit,” she continued in that fake, deep mafia boss voice, fumbling with her phone for a bit before shoving the bright screen in your faces, “is this guy.”

You raised a brow at the picture, recognizing the person in it easily enough, but refusing to acknowledge you were about to do anything related to him.

Kaori blinked. “We’re going to kidnap Oikawa Tooru?”

“Please tell me that’s not the plan,” you groaned.

“What? No.” Sumiko’s tone returned to normal, coated in bewilderment. “There’s no time for your wild fantasies, Kaori. We’re in the middle of a serious discussion.”

“You guys can’t tell me I’m the only who finds him hot. He’s like a 12 out of 10; and that’s if I’m being mean.”

“She’s too far gone, Sumiko!” You exaggerated, placing a hand on your friend’s shoulder. “He has already beguiled her with his vicious charm! We must finish this mission without her!”

“How right you are, fellow comrade,” said Sumiko, going along with your little theatre performance. She took it one notch further and gripped your hands tightly, her eyes fierce. “We shall put a stop to this devil’s reign of terror and save hundreds of innocent girls. For her sake!”

You clamped down on your bubbling laughter. As much as you were enjoying it, this moment was way too perfect to be ruined by dropping out of character. Kaori heaved a sigh in mock surrender.

“Jesus christ, fine, let’s start an Oikawa hate club. Just spare me your horrendous acting skills.”

“Excuse you, our acting is flawless.” Sumiko feigned offence, and you could practically hear Kaori roll her eyes as she turned to you. “Why do you hate that guy so much anyway? He hasn’t done anything to you.”

You mulled over your words. “Hate is a very strong word. Hell, I don’t even dislike him, he’s just plain annoying with that flamboyant personality of his. 90% of the school adores him and it’s been going on for. Three. Years. People need to find a hobby other than wanting to marry him.”

Nobody immediately replied after your little speech, and you wondered if you’d been too harsh or had taken this once-totally-irrelevant thing too far, but you could see understanding flash in your friends’ eyes. All of you were familiar with The Great Volleyball Star, Master Ladies’ Man Oikawa Tooru, since you started high school the same year as him. Fine, he wasn’t exactly ugly, but he was just always there in the school hallways, being too nice, chatting people up left and right like he was everybody’s best friend. Girls wanted to date him; guys wanted to be him. He had every student and teacher under some kind of spell. It surprised you how terribly few thought his behavior to be... fake. Nobody was that goddamn cheery all the time.

“Well, I,” Sumiko interrupted your internal monologue, “absolutely despise him.” Beside the joking tone, her eyes carried enough anger for that inner ‘uh oh, home girl in trouble’ feeling to activate in your gut. Kaori seemed to noticed it too.

“Spill,” was Kaori’s only reply. We switched to pure business mode.

“It wasn’t me, if you’re wondering. I’m too smart for that. But Akane isn’t.” Oh god no. That’s Sumiko’s little sister. “Long story short, she wrote him a love letter.”

Silence. “...and? What was his answer?” You asked, unable to bare this weird, protective tension that had settled over the group.

Sumiko blew out a breath. “That’s the thing. It’s been six months. I found Akane crying last night.”

It was stupid. So so stupid. But you couldn’t stop yourself from scowling. That prick. He probably received thousands of letters each month, and chocolates and confessions and what not. You couldn’t really blame him. But—actively or not—Oikawa had made it personal, and a plan had already formed in your wicked little mind.

“Girls,” you spoke up, glancing at them both as a smirk rose to your lips. “That bitch is going down.”

—————

You paced impatiently before the huge double doors of the gym, waiting for the signal text from Sumiko and Kaori, who had already slipped inside at the beginning of volleyball practice. They were the spies of this operation, intently keeping watch until the boys were done for the day, so you could bust in and perform your solo act.

In all honesty, the windows were open and everyone inside was so goddamn loud with their shouting that you had a pretty clear idea what was happening inside, but you weren’t about to ruin all the careful planning and excitement. You went way overboard. Or maybe it would just seem lame and stupid. But for a guy that was just so extra, you deemed it a fit punishment. Loud, quick, and most importantly, extravagant.

You heard the sharp sound of a whistle being blown. “Alright! That’s it for today! Clean up and then get to your streches.” A murmur of agreements sounded, then chattering began.

“Iwa-chan! Let’s collect the balls together!”

Ugh. That was definitely him. You hoped Iwa-chan said no.

Your fingers itched to check your phone for the fifteenth time, but you knew you would hear a ping if a notification popped up. You were getting jittery, or giddy, or perhaps just nervous, but you were ready to act. You couldn’t wait to see the look on his pretty face.

Ping. You whipped out your phone faster than lightning. It’s go time, the text read. You didn’t hesitate. With all the might and drama stored in your very bones and soul, you let the double doors of the gym fly open as you crossed the threshold, stepping inside, chin up and hands on your hips.

Any sort of movement halted at your arrival. Boys in sweaty clothes regarded you in confusion, the cleaning forgotten. Oikawa had been standing backwards to you, talking to a guy who seemed ready to pounce on him before you entered. He turned around now with a ‘huh?’ escaping his lips, but when his eyes fell on you, he just smiled lazily, no hint of surprise gracing his features.

No doubt he thought you were just another fangirl. Perfect. From the corner of your eyes, you glimpsed both Sumiko and Kaori recording on their phones. You didn’t give Oikawa a chance to open his big, blabbering mouth as you brought your hands up to your lips, forming a makeshift megaphone to carry your words better as you shouted at the top of your lungs:

“OIKAWA TOORU SUCKS!”

The aftermath was everything you hoped for and better. Sumiko and Kaori started howling first, the rest of the team joining in immediately after with teasing and whooping as they all glanced at Oikawa, who stood frozen, jaw dropped and eyes wide open as he dramatically clutched at his heart, his hands forming into fists.

“Hey! That’s so mean!” He whined sharply, then turned his head to one of his cackling teammates. “Iwa-chan, stop laughing! That girl is insanely rude!” He made sure to point an accusing finger at you.

You were on fire, your grin practically feral. Sumiko and Kaori had already left, taking the back exit just as planned. Good. Now for the finishing touch.

“Hell yeah I am!” Your words echoed on the walls. “Not everybody likes you. Fucking deal with it. Good day!” And with that, you spun on your heel, slamming the doors behind you with a defiant boom. You didn’t stop running until you reached the school gates, where the girls were already waiting for you, beaming.

“Show me the goddamd video.”

i’m very tempted to make a part 2 uwu

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captainderyn · 7 years

Text

Illusions (1/2)

Esrin belongs to @delavairesslegacy

This deviates almost entirely from the Corellian story quests, but eh, the idea was inspired by those. If you squint.

Title: Illusions

part 1/2

Summary: Two smugglers and an ex slave walk into a war zone..it sounds like the beginning to a bad joke and Rielay’s waiting for the punchline. No one’s laughing, not with each shot fired and more Republic flags being laid down everyday and she’s starting to wonder if the real joke is their chances at coming out of this alive.

Word Count: ~6,300

Warnings: Character death, spoilers (vaguely) for both the smuggler Corellia story and the planetary story line.

**Under the cut because this got superlong.

Corellia had lost her shine in the twenty years Rielay had been away. It had Empire stink and slime all over her, and the war for it’s freedom was crumbling the very cities they fought for. From the air she had seen turrets and trenches tearing up the once bustling parks, columns of smoke rising from single buildings and whole sectors alike.

It hurt, walking through familiar streets and buildings from the main docking point she had spent hours working and playing in and seeing everything a shadow of itself. Even the port was empty, the port she had met hundreds of smugglers in a single week, worked on dozens of ships in a day. Filled now only by her own freighter. Buildings gutted from explosions, walls blackened from blaster fire all rose around her. The streets..empty.

“Taqq?” Emeldir brushed his shoulder against hers and she realized she had stopped in the middle of the street, eyes fixed on the Imperial flag hanging limp in the still air. Air that stank of smoke and dust, fuel and fire. Her hands had tightened into fists and with conscious effort Rielay unclenched them.

“Fine, Deryn. I never loved this place anyways.”

If she hadn’t loved her homeworld, even just looking back on it, she wouldn’t be here. As she had once been told, she was Corellian--blood and spirit.

There was no follow up and she glanced over at Emeldir. His own business was eating at him, leeching away his usual bright energy and dulling him. She didn't like it, he had been used and now he was paying for it. He had best make Darmas and that senator pay just as dearly. But for now she needed him focused, he had agreed to help her here and he wouldn’t be able to do that if he was shot dead the first chance the Imps got.

The silence between them stretched, with Deryn lost in his own thoughts and Rielay committing each fallen memory, each ragged face they passed to memory. Tallying up a count for all the places and people she would fight for.

It was a long walk. Their meeting place loomed up in front of them, one wall collapsed and lifeless from the outside. No obvious residents, not an obvious target. They slipped inside unnoticed.

Hugo, among other stragglers who weren’t a part of CorSec or the Republic military had all gathered here into one resistance force, a small entity of its own with its own forces and leaders, no matter how thin compared to the planet’s own security forces or the Republic’s whole army. It was people who wanted to fight, had been turned away from the main forces and chosen to make their own. Admirable, and a movement Rielay could get behind.

The forefront of the base was barren, a thruway and nothing more. Deeper into the hallways and rooms people began to come out of the woodwork, medics and repairmen, soldiers in thrown together armor, civs with modified blasters. A ragtag group, with determined faces and a cause to fight for.

It was in the largest room of the compound that the real fun began. The only room with fully functioning equipment--a data terminal, a holomap that was projected showing the base plan of Corellia--was the home to the strategists, the leaders, the behind the scenes to the fighting out on the surface. A small section at least, one cog in the whole machine.

“Taqq, thank the stars you’re here.” Hugo was at the head of the table, leaning over long pieces of flimsi with scrawled out notes and positions. The holo conversation months ago had not done justice to the iron hand Corellia used to tear people apart. Corellia was kind to no one, not even those working to save her freedom.

“I hope I haven’t crashed the party.” A spot was opened for her at the table and she took her spot by a mirialan boy, who couldn’t be older than sixteen and a Jedi by his robes and the saber hanging at his hip.

“Oh it’s just getting started. Strap in for the fun.” He said dryly, brushing a hand over the flimsi as it started to curl in on itself. Always hoarse, Hugo’s voice sounded absolutely exhausted, the light of the holomap darkening the shadows under his eyes and in the hollows of his face.

“Just what I signed up for.” She put her hands on the table and leaned forward, straining to see some of the notes scrawled in the margins of the drawings. It was written in Hugo’s hand but reading it upside down was near impossible. She pulled back, bumping into Emeldir’s chest from where he was leaning over her shoulder.

“Maybe I should introduce everyone.” Hugo took two steps back from the table, looking around the table. There were less than ten of them, herself and Emeldir included. “Captain Rielay Taqq, and captain Emeldir Deryn are the two smugglers I suggested for our next strike.” His hands gestured to each individual as he named them. “Rielay that’s Tacka next to you, Cazi on your left, Wolf Sacul and Dakoehl next to me.”

“We need to return to the matter of Xin, she won’t wait while we make friends.” Cazi, a scarred twi’lek in the armor of a Republic soldier growled. “She’s what stands between us and a Republic victory.”

Xin? Rielay looked between the small council but no one was moving or speaking, silenced at the drop of that name.

“Xin is a nuisance, but we haven’t been able to pin her down. We have more important things to do than chasing a rogue sith.” Hugo said, face hardening when Cazi went to protest. “Our main focus is Beharen.”

Rielay jumped when Cazi’s fist slammed down on the table, lekku twitching angrily. “Lives are being lost while she’s out there! We can’t just sit!”

A miraluka woman cleared her throat, Dakoehl. “Soldier, if I may, we don’t yet know how to effectively combat Xin. But our forces for Beharen have just arrived and it’s an opportunity we cannot waste.”

The soldier fell silent, eyes glowering around the table before fixing on Rielay. “You cannot be talking about her.”

Her eyes widened and she locked eyes with Hugo, who seemed to deflate when they accusatory eyes shifted from him. “Please explain what’s going on.”

Hugo gave a slight nod and straightened. “Cazi, the captains are our best bet at getting in and our of Beharen successfully.” He motioned for the door. “Everyone. please leave while I brief them on their mission. With so many voices we will never get anywhere.” His look lingered on Cazi until the doors slid closed and it was just the three of them left.

With a sigh he sank into one of the chars that had been pushed under the table, running his hands over his face with a sigh. “I’m sorry for that Rielay. General Corraliya meant well by sending Cazi, but he’s been a handful since he stepped off his speeder.”

Rielay and Emeldir took seats as well and she clasped her hands in front of her. She had been burning to ask since the power play had begun. “They seem to listen to you. You’re in charge?”

She caught a smile behind his hands and the hair that had come loose from it’s tie. “If you count being shoved into leadership after an unfortunate string of loses, then yes.”

Then she could hope for no better person to work under. They had been partners for a long time, she knew how he worked, she could trust him. Being able to trust the people who gave her her orders was a rare commodity. “Maybe I should give you congratulations. Or perhaps a very strong drink might be better with the show I just saw.”

Emeldir laughed under his breath and she saw him shake his head in her peripheral.”Taqq, don’t remind the man how stressful his job is.”

But Hugo was laughing, wry and not entirely humor fueled but still a break of his grim expression. “I’ll take a rain check on that strong drink, though you aren’t wrong. But I’ll assume you want to know what you’ll be doing in Beharen?”

She shrugged, leaning back in her chair and tilting her head to the side. “Not a necessity, I’ve gone into jobs with less.” Less than nothing, which is what she had on this. She had come to Corellia after Hugo had asked for her aid but he hadn’t specified for what exactly.

Pulling a datapad from a shelf in arm’s reach Hugo tapped away as he started to explain. “It’s a droid factory, currently has the Empire’s claws sunk into it and has a some very strong droids we need.” He slid the datapad over to Rielay and she looked over the documents, maps, droid schematics.

“I take it these aren’t just to woo the ladies?” Rielay frowned, scanning through the droid’s capabilities. “If they were for the offensive you’d have already seized them.”

She passed the datapad to Emeldir and looked back at Hugo with a raised eyebrow. “What’s the reason you’re sending us in there?”

“We managed to get the rocket trams under our control again, but Republic forces and our own resistance forces are being shot down once they transfer to ground transport.” In the slight pause he took Rielay could hear grief and she wondered how many of the lives lost had been people he’d known by name, been close to. Corellia may be harsh, but leadership was cruel.

“We’ve found the source-prototype droids that are more powerful than any droid should be-and a location. They’re holed up with a scientist named Varik. Those disaster relief droids are your way in to Varik’s lab.”

Good enough of an explanation for her. Find and infiltrate the factory, take the droids, go bust into a science lab. Shoot some Imperials on the way. It wasn’t enough for Emeldir, who hadn’t gotten where he had by gut feelings and going in blind.

“These droids can withstand turret fire and blast down doors, they can’t be unguarded.” He slid the datapad back across to Hugo, leaning his forearms on the table. “It can’t be a simple grab-and-go.”

There it was, the reason she kept Emeldir around. He asked the important questions. Questions that, thankfully, had an answer.

“It won’t be simple by any means. There are generators all throughout a place we call Hellfire that’ll need to be activated in order to put the assembly line back up. The unfinished droids in the factory will try to take you down, without loyalty or safety programming they’ll target you as the enemy.” Hugo had taken on that grim expression again and Rielay was struck again by how much they had changed since Coruscant. “Rielay I’m relying on your familiarity with Coronet City.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “I would hope after fourteen years I would know this place like the back of my hand. I’ve got it covered. Turn on generators, get assembly line running, defeat and seize some droids. We’ll be home in time for dinner, right kid?”

“Without question.” Emeldir grinned and she grinned back, it was about time she knocked some life back into him. Unfocused didn’t mix with this kind of job. “You’ve got no need to worry.”

Hugo heaved himself up from his chair, tossing the datapad back onto the shelf and unrolling the flimsi again. “I’m not, I hired Taqq for a reason. Send the others back in please, we’ve got other business to discuss.” Hugo glanced up and she could’ve sworn she caught a glimpse of humor. “I would wish you luck, but you never seem to use it.”

“If the system isn’t broke, don’t fix it.” Rielay quipped, pointing a finger at him. “Just because it’s a little chaotic doesn’t mean I don’t get the job done.”

Hugo laughed again and she hoped it would be enough to keep him from collapsing under the expectations others were putting on him. Cazi shoved by her as soon as she passed through the door, with Dakoehl following at his heels after wishing them the best on their mission. The others filed by silently. A sullen procession. It was like they had lost Corellia already.

“Ready for some adventure?” She asked when they stepped back into the smoke and dust. Emeldir drew his blasters, clicking off the safety and looking at her sideways.

“Always am.”

Between the two of them they made quick work of the generators. Emeldir covered her while she fought her way past the grunt’s guarding the generator before activating the controls with a quick press of a few buttons. The Imperials didn’t stand a chance, not when they had the element of surprise, stealth and fought like a single, well oiled machine.

She had taught Emeldir to fight and after years of working jobs together it they were nearly the same mind in combat, a deadly whirlwind of detonators and blaster bolts.

Hellfire didn’t scorch them and they left to the steady hum of generators at their backs. It was a quick tram ride to Beharen, swarming with Imperials. They were off their guard, most of the resistance in Labor Valley killed by their own hand. They never saw the volley of blaster fire coming and their hands were too slow to draw their rifles.

Rielay shrugged her shoulder to work out some of the arising soreness, uncapping a stim to try and fend it off completely. Emeldir did the same. “They’ve really lowered their standards. Between my metal arm and you’re half a leg you’d think they’d at least be able to get a shot in.”

“Winning’s gone to their heads. They’re getting complacent.” Emeldir agreed, smirking when alarms started to blare. “Looks like we’ve scared them.”

Rielay palmed a detonator, tossing it up and down causally. “Might as well make our entrance.” She made a face when the entrance remained empty, no men taking the place of those they had dropped. “Well that’s just rude they won’t even greet us at the door.”

She pulled the charge from the detonator, throwing it as hard as she could so that it bounced through the open blast doors of the factory. Smoke billowed out after she counted to three under her breath and it was then that she stood from the rubble she had taken cover behind. “Maybe that’ll get their attention.”

It wasn’t the Imperials that troubled them, not even after Rielay’s rude awakening. Men had weaknesses, chinks in their armor--or lack there of, as the Empire seemed to prefer aesthetic to functionality in their uniform. The droids were another being entirely.

“Keep an eye out, kid. Be prepared to dive for cover.” RIelay had her back to the racks of massive droids, fiddling with the controls of the assembly line. The generators had provided the power, but time and lack of wear had rusted the panel. “Almost got it...there!” Rielay turned, eyes widening as the unfinished droids dropped to the ground.

“Taqq those are huge!” Emeldir scrambled for a crate, ducking behind as the first round of fire hit the wall where he had been standing.

“Yeah I noticed!” Rielay dove behind the assembly line controls, blood chilling at the clank of metallic legs. No matter how many times she fought that would always be the worst moment; the sound of her enemy advancing. With a steadying breath she popped up, firing a few shots before scrambling for another crate. The controls were blown to scrap behind her.

Rielay dug into the pouch that carried her explosives and pulled one out, throwing it over her shoulder. Emeldir charged his blasters before shooting it just before it hit the ground. A small explosion rocked the room.

“Looks like we took two down!”

“Good!” Rielay shouted, tossing another detonator and ducking as shrapnel flew. “Keep focused and maybe we can make that all of them.”

They couldn’t afford to damage their loyal droids, but with their blaster bolts glancing off the droid’s armor blowing them up seemed to be the only way to take them down. Rielay hoped the loyal droids would be safe in the corner they were shut down in.

They alternated shots, with Emeldir detonating the explosives she tossed while Rielay would sometimes join in firing volley after volley of bolts into the battle droids. Hugo had no lied when he’d mentioned their strength. They were wasting time here, but they were pinned down until every last pile of scrap was deactivated.

“Kid you’d better get out of the open or so help me, I will blow you to pieces!” Rielay hollered. He continued firing bolts from his spot right outside the droid’s targeting system, yelping when a flashing detonator rolled to a stop by his feet. He dove forward, rolling when he hit the ground and landing in a crouch.

She saw his arm come up to cover his eyes as the detonator exploded in a flash of light. “What was that for?” He scrambled back as several scatter gun pellets embedded themselves in the metal by his feet. “Taqq!”

“Tough love, I told you get outta my way!” She snapped back, whacking her scatter gun into the crate as it whined to a stop before firing. “Fighting that way’s gonna get you shot!” She threw the gun to the floor, leaping back when it spat out a few more pellets. She yanked a smaller pistol out of a holster on her thigh, seamlessly merging back into the fight. Four of the six droids were smoking hunks of metal on the floor, the other two whirling around firing aimlessly as their targeting systems failed.

“You’re going to get me shot!” Emeldir swore as a droid’s fire came dangerously close to him.

“Then pay attention and stay out of my way!”

Out a gun and a pouch of detonators the droid’s were all finally scrap, the damage relief droids safely reactivated and under their control. The droids, taller than her and Emeldir both and twice as powerful, made short work of any enemy force that was tossed in front of them and tore the laboratory's blast doors down like they were flimsi.

Down a scientist--a traitor, a coward who had fallen to the Empire’s propaganda--and with four more droids added to their pile of scrap metal the team of smugglers returned back to the ramshackle building.

“I can’t say I’m surprised about the droids, but I’m impressed.” Hugo had called their little council back together even as the daylight faded outside. No one seemed surprised in fact, either they knew of her or Hugo had told them about her reputation.

“That’s one step closer to taking Axial Park.” Dakroehl agreed. “Now our forces can join the others.”

“First we need to get through tomorrow.” Hugo reminded, curbing the mounting excitement. “Tomorrow we plan, meet with Corraliya and determine the best course of action.”

When they were dismissed the council’s moods were lifted, smiles were on their faces, and any animosity seemed to be forgotten. It was perhaps the largest victory of the day. Now, it seemed, Corellia wouldn’t be lost easily.

The Republic base closest to them was little more than a re purposed cantina. Old, mostly fallen letters spelled out The Old Copper but now instead of criminals and smugglers it housed a diplomatic squad and at least dozens of soldiers. Corraliya, ex commander of the Republic’s elite Havoc Squad was their contact. She was a stern zabrak woman, intimidating in stature and very clearly unwilling to put up with anything that would detract from the mission.

As it turns out, Cazi had served in Havoc with her and was a trusted and formidable soldier. Rielay never would have guessed from his belligerent stand the day before but under Corraliya’s sharp eyes his temper was cooled.

Rielay was not needed to talk strategy, she had no concept of the numbers either side held. She was just the infantry, the one to send in when things needed to be done quickly and quietly. She was here because Emeldir was here, and he was useful. He was speaking with the diplomatic squad, who were furiously working to de escalate the conflict. So far it had done nothing, but no one could fault them for their persistence.

She was leaning on a crate, listening to the commander and Hugo discussing Axial Park. She knew Axial, her mother had taken her and her sister there as kids. Lots of history, monuments to the great galactic conflicts, statues of heroes. It would be a shame to lose that but from the sounds of it the Empire had already torn it apart. Armies, walkers, trenches-

Rielay blinked when she saw a familiar face walking through the courtyard. It couldn’t be. There was no way she could forget a detail like that. None the less, she pushed herself off the crate and wove between the throngs of soldiers. “Esrin?” She called when she assumed she was in earshot.

The look on his face mirrored her own shock and by the time he caught sight of her she was only a few feet away, with her hands on her hips. “What are you doing here?” She asked.

“Rielay? Why are you on Corellia?” He drew he to the side, out of the path of people walking by. “I’m here trying to calm down the fires here.”

“I’m working a job!” Rielay said, as though it should be obvious. It should have been obvious, it was all she ever did when she flew the Promise alone. “With Emeldir.”

Though the more she thought about the the more certain she was that neither of them had mentioned Corellia. For Esrin it was most likely highly classified Republic information that should not be gracing the ears of not-always-legal woman like her and for her...well it hadn’t seemed important.

“This is the job you’re working with Emeldir? This is a war zone what work could you find here?” Esrin seemed to forget that they had met while she was smuggling supplies to refugees. That had been a war zone.

She let her hands drop from her hips, pushing back a laugh. She couldn’t quite keep it from her voice. “Well if we were both going to be working here I would’ve just had you stay on the ship. No use paying transport fees when your girlfriend has her own ship.” She looked over her shoulder at the sound of approaching voices and found the resistance and Republic convoy headed their way. Both Hugo and Corraliya looked pleased, they must have found the best course for Axial. Good, it wouldn’t do well to let the Empire sit on their high horses for too long.

“I’m doing some work with the resistance, and the Republic by association. Got a little tired of having the Empire crawling over my home planet.”

“Rielay, our meeting here is finished. Should I wait to brief you...” Hugo paused, glancing at Esrin before looking back at Rielay. The question was obvious, had she found herself in trouble? The answer, for once, was no.

Though looking between Esrin and Hugo she wondered if maybe this was the trouble. They had never met, Hugo hadn’t existed as far as she had told Esrin for the longest time, and she had been unbelievably cruel to Hugo in their time together. It didn’t sit well with her, even if it no longer seemed to bother anyone else. “I’ll come along for the briefing in a moment. “

“There’s no need to rush, we’ll be overnighting here. Axial is closer and Dakroehl’s raising our men back at base.” Hugo went to turn away, as Corraliya and the rest of their party had after brief greetings but Rielay without a thought blurted out;

“Wait, Hugo.” She muttered a curse, glancing up at Esrin but finding his expression curious. Hugo was giving her an odd look and she knew they could both read her sudden anxiousness clear as a book and she swore again. “Never mind. I’ll see you later for the mission details.”

He gave a slow nod, still with that odd look before retreating. She let out a breath, feeling heat creeping into her face. Tactfully handled that had not been. In the slightest. Things with Hugo never were.

“So the famous Hugo?” Esrin’s voice was light, legitimately joking instead of the barbed lightness that came with confrontation. What else would she have expected. He had never been bothered by the mention, or lack of, of Hugo and there was no reason for her paranoia to take a front seat now.

She turned to face him, running a hand though her hair and sighing again. “That was, yes.”

“Leader of the resistance force on Corellia, hm? Not quite the poor soul you claim to have ruthlessly kicked off your ship.” He was teasing her damnit. She aimed a whack at his arm.

“Stop teasing me, that was stressful.”

“No doubt.” A chime sounded from Esrin’s chrono and he glanced down at it. “That’s my cue to go try to pat down the fires again. If I don’t see you tonight, I’ll see you tomorrow before you set off.”

Rielay caught at his hand before he was able to bound off, giving it a quick squeeze. “Good luck with this dumpster fire.”

Morning came too soon, the sunrise spilling over the buildings onto the preparations for battle. The Empire was already calling it the Battle of Axial Park without any real shots being fired,and the Republic was mustering its forces like they were going off to win the war once and for all. Maybe they would.

Rielay had been briefed by Hugo the night before, he would be joining her and Emeldir to deal with the ambushes as they cropped up and were in charge of finding and spiking the Imperial Command Center. That would be the key to winning access to Capitol Square. Without their command and without their Imperial Guard the Empire would be left scrambling.

For now she was sitting on a crate, doing last minute tuning on a new scatter gun she had nicked from the armory while Esrin ran over her supplies for what might be the fourth time. Dissuading him hadn’t been successful, he was worried no matter how many times she reminded him she wasn’t going in alone.

She couldn’t blame him, the last time she had gone into a combat mission she had nearly come out in a body bag--something that he had been informed off over holocall by a very distraught Emeldir, though perhaps more eloquently. This was ten times worse. Here there were turrets, and Sith, soldiers and special forces. It was enough to squash her confidence and pound her heart. Instead she mustered all the confidence she could, jumped off the crate and went over to Esrin.

“It’ll be fine.” She assured again, attaching her restocked explosives pouch to her belt and reaching out for a similar pouch, this one filled with medical supplies. He handed it over with a frown. “I’ll be fine.”

“I know Rie. I’m not doubting you can make it out of this.” He sighed, looking hard at the ground and then lifting his eyes to the ceiling when it wasn’t enough. “I just don’t want to lose you.”

She rested her hands on his arms, voice firm. “You won’t. I promise.” It was one hell of a thing to promise, almost a cruel thing, but the words slipped out before she could stop them.

“I’ll hold you to it.” Esrin’s voice was soft and Rielay knew that her words did nothing to ease his fears.

“See that you do.” She stood on her toes and he leaned down for a gentle, yet quick farewell kiss. “And I expect you home in one piece too.”

It was among the rubble, bathed in gold morning light that she, Emeldir and Hugo took up arms and marched to war.

Words were limited, the tension palpable as they stealthed behind Axial. The cries of fighting hammered their ears--the ground shaking roar of the turrets, blaster fire and the shouts of wounded and angry soldiers. There was no way to tell if they were winning, no way to tell if the ambush teams they had taken out did any good.

It was agonizing.

Just as it was agonizing to leave the noise behind for the stifling silence of the road to the Command Center. The silence weighed on them just as heavily.

They should have known something was wrong then. As soon as they saw the control panel that would allow them to transmit data to CorSec special forces and had found opposition. As soon as no Imperial fire rained down on their heads when they left cover.

It took them stumbling over the bodies of resistance scouts for them to realize something wasn’t right.

By then it was too late.

Rielay stood at the controls, spike held in her mouth while her hands worked through the systems preliminary system checks. It was just as she was slicing into the system, inserting the spike to start transmission data that the hair on the back of her neck stood on end and an unbidden wave of fear swept over her.

She had her weapons drawn by the time Emeldir and Hugo ran back around the corner, breathing hard and gasping. “We need to leave! Now!”

“What?” She dared a glance over her shoulder. “We aren’t leaving without that data!”

“Rielay you don’t understand we need to leave-” Hugo broke off just as the strange fear swept over her again, sending a shudder through her shoulders.

She didn’t need to see the violet glow of a saberstaff or hear the crackle of force lightning to know that their luck had just run out. So she raised her blaster and fired off a volley of shots.

All of them rebounded, splattering against the wall in a small explosion of sparks.

“We need to leave.” It was Emeldir this time, looking at something beyond the corner. She hear his sharp,panicked breaths just before he seized her around the waist, pulling her from where she had frozen.

“Deryn no! Let me go!” She squirmed against his grip, elbowing him as hard as she could in the ribs. When he grunted in pain she almost felt bad. “Not without that data!”

When he finally let her go he was quick to seize her wrist, keeping her from running back. Hugo was right behind them, breath harsh and wheezing in a way that wasn’t just from fear.

“We can’t go back. Somehow she found us.” He gasped for breath, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes closed. “Damnit Xin found us. There’s no getting by her.”

They lost that day.

They didn’t loose the Park. No, they drove the Empire back with their tales between their legs. But without the Command Center they had no way to get to Capital Square. By the blow that caused them they might as well have taken the defeat on all fronts.

“We need to do something about Xin!” For once Rielay agreed wholeheartedly with Cazi. “We did our time and look where that got us! It’s the Sith standing between us and the Square!”

They were around the table again, surrounded by their half functioning technology and hand drawn maps. Their numbers had shrunk. Wolf was missing, supposedly killed in action and Emeldir had been forced to leave after new, distressing information regarding the Voidhound. The room showed it, it was lonelier, quieter. Silences lingered longer and even the lights seemed dimmer.

Maybe it was just the increased bombings. Air strikes on both sides no longer seemed to care what they hit. Communication had been all but knocked out. It had been nearly two weeks since Axial with no word from the Republic. The only connection they had with them was Corraliya and her squad, who had retreated with their forces.

Hugo may as well have taken all the losses himself, he was growing wearier and more pained by the day. No matter how good he thought he could hide it it was there, clear as day in his eyes. No one could hide it, not the way the loss at Axial had shattered their hope.

Victory was close enough to taste, with one indomitable barrier between them. “Then what do you suppose we do?” Hugo finally asked. “We’ve already learned throwing blasters and armor at her does nothing.”

This gave Cazi pause and he seemed to think for a moment, lekku curling around his shoulders. “We fight the Force with the Force.”

Dakoehl frowned, eyebrows drawing together. It was disconcerting, not being able to read the miraluka’s thoughts and emotions through her eyes. Rielay couldn’t tell whether she was considering the idea or preparing to dismiss it.

“You are suggesting that I and Tacka face Xin, yes?” She must have sensed Cazi’s nod because she spoke again. “I am a Knight by training, but Tacka is young, I do not think he would be ready to face a sith lord.”

“You aren’t going alone!” Hugo cut in the same time Tacka made a disgruntled noise and cried out; “You won’t leave me behind!”

“It would be suicide to face Xin alone.” Hugo pressed on. “She’s taken out squads of soldiers, Republic trained or our without breaking a sweat.”

“Then I will take Tacka with me and a group of our people to face her. She has yet to fight another force user. Xin is young, and prone to mistakes.” Dakoehl sounded so certain that Rielay believed her. Later she would think that she may have put a bit of Force persuasion into her words.

Hugo was silent for several moments, staring hard at the table and the pages of ideas beneath his hands. “Alright.” He finally relented, closing his eyes. “If the others agree and it’s what the best course is to ending this then fine.”

Maybe if Rielay had paid attention she wouldn’t have agreed so quickly with the others. Maybe if she had seen the miraluka’s hand feel under the table two twine with Hugo’s she would have second guessed so willingly offering her life over to Xin.

Maybe if she had seen the way the two always sat close to each other, shoulder to shoulder. Maybe she could have read the signs and found sympathy for a situation so like her own. There were a lot of maybes.

But she didn’t see and she didn’t pay attention. No one did. No one ever did, Rielay realized the longer she thought, never had when it came to Hugo. He may have been their leader but as soon as he stepped away from battle plans he faded back into the shadows.

It took a high price for her to realize that.

Tacka was the only one to return, eyes blown wide and babbling incessantly about the lightning, the intensity, the darkness that had roiled through the force like a monster. The medics were quick to usher the young Jedi off, wrapped in a blanket away from the horrified eyes and stifled tears.

Seven Republic military-grade coffins. Seven Republic flags laid down.

Hours after the others had said their respects and wandered back into their new normal Rielay found Hugo still there, silent as he had been since Tacka had returned. For awhile he had stood with his arm around the boy has he had cried into his shoulder, but now he stood alone. His hand rested gently on the middle coffin. His head was bowed, the tracks of tears still glistening on his cheeks.

“Hugo I’m sorry.” Rielay couldn’t get her voice above a whisper.

His hand brushed down an upturned edge of the Republic flag. “We were so close...” He didn’t look at her, and she didn’t know if his words were meant for her. “I hope this was worth it.”

#swtor #my writing #swtor smuggler #oc: Taqq #oc: Emeldir #oc: Hugo #oc: Wren #oc: Coraaliya #other peoples ocs: Esrin #fanfic #someone take Hugo away from me #my poor bby needs love

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talking-movies · 6 years

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The Masterpiece Society

Season 5, Episode 13

It’s always amazing how Star Trek managed to bring to light social issues issues into light in a time where social justice and progress were limited to achieving goals that are considered basic now.

The Enterprise stumbles upon a human colony on a non-class M planet, in a distant sector of space. There is no record of a ship getting lost there to justify an accidental colony and neither is there any record of a planned colony being established there. The colonists refuse to answer the Enterprise’s hails for a couple of days before finally Captain Picard warns them of a stellar core hurtling through space towards their planet that will wreak havoc on their establishment in a one way message, which prompts the leader of the colony, Aaron Connor, to finally answer them. After some interaction and investigation, it turns out that the colony completely consists of genetically modified humans: each of them carefully bred to serve a specific purpose upon reaching adulthood, their entire lives charted out for them even before conception.

While the crew of the Enterprise attempt to come to terms with the existence of such a people, Lt. Commander La Forge and his engineering crew put their heads together with apparently the only Physicist, Hannah, on the surface of the planet and Counselor Troi (for some reason) starts hanging out with the leader Aaron. Throughout the episode, everyone was so focused on saving the colony that no one paid heed to the prime directive. It was just put away as an after thought, something at the back of their minds. Only, once the disaster was averted, Aaron had fallen in love with Deanna and Hannah had fallen in love with the Enterprise and everything it had to offer, that everyone realizes the grave mistake in judgment they’d made.

The prime directive serves to preserve societies and cultures as they are and not to interfere in their natural progression. Since the people on the colony were humans, the crew and captain did not consider the lack of technological advancements that might be present in their society. So they went charging in, swords raised, to save their human brothers and sisters from a catastrophe and unintentionally threw them into another different disaster. If the stellar core had caused destruction on the planet, at least all them would be dead and no one would TECHNICALLY suffer, but if some of the building blocks of their very existence suddenly left, everyone would suffer the consequences.

This brings to light several questions, as thoughtful episodes usually do: who or what gave the Enterprise the right to interfere with the fate of the people on the colony? If they didn’t have the technology to save themselves, wouldn’t that count as the natural progression of the people? Surely not all of them would die and the survivors would have to make drastic changes to their lifestyle to adapt to the new circumstances, but surely THAT would have been their growth. Should they have thought more about the rescue mission before actually executing it?

Another point raised is the eugenic nature of the society. Captain Picard was quite, and quite understandably, irked at the thought of people been engineered to serve a specific purpose. The way Aaron explained how he was basically produced to be the perfect leader, that his entire life he knew that he is going to be the leader and every event that he encountered contributed to his destiny, makes it sound more like a punishment rather than an accomplishment. It is almost equivalent to taking away peoples’ free will. They’re programmed since before birth to fit in to niches carved into the fabric of their society. While true that it makes life easier if everything is already planned for you and you’re not placed in a position to have to make difficult, life altering decisions that you might regret later. But as stressful as that uncertainty might be, isn’t that what acts as the spice of life? It would be so immensely boring if everything was already pre-decided. What if, though created to be a doctor, you want to be an artist? What would do in such a situation in a society that insists you stick to the role that you were ‘made for’?

However, what spoke louder to me was the dilemma faced by the engineers and the scientists of the colony for once they saw all the progress that seemingly imperfect people had made, they saw potential they never knew existed and wanted to leave the planet with the Enterprise. I can totally understand why the wanted to leave. After all, once you get a taste of freedom, it’s not that easy to give it up. Once the spirit is out of the box, it’s impossible to put it back in again, because that would then be imprisonment. Because anything other than that will be a violation of what we consider basic human right. Having basically ran away from home and an extremely suffocating society, Hannah and the others’ plight speaks volumes to me - having to make a choice between doing what you think is important for yourself and what is best for your ‘family’, not an easy choice to make. I like to imagine this is similar to the power of books and knowledge: once you know know what’s in them, there’s no going back to the dark ages.

Overall, I liked the episode, even though the “romance” between Aaron and Deanna was a bit far fetched in my opinion. It was a thought provoking episode rather than some random filler. The fun in watching Star Trek is that after watching a few of the aforementioned thought provoking episodes, watching the fillers used to progress a story line, lose their charm very quickly. Oh and Data had a very small role in the episode and I missed him IMMENSELY. Hope your enjoyed reading the huge essay! If you’d rather have something shorter, by all means let me know. Till next time! 🖖🏼

#star trek #the next generation #st:tng #tng #first blog #prime directive #eugenics #picard #data #the masterpiece society #season 5

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roadswim-collective · 7 years

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Birds Hell (Reprise): The Book of Job

Extracted from Transcript C

Right, let's have a go of this one.

(Inhales from e-cigarette, coughs)

God help, that is harsh.

(Coughs, spits, laughs)

What the hell was that again? Lychee and Raspberry, for god's sake.

(Blows nose, clears throat)

Think I'll go back to the bloody Zestappeal. Anyway, where was I? Christ knows. Oh yeah, so car parks, right? Twice in my life I've been sat on the ground at the edge of a hospital car park, totally brainshot and unable to move. Once was when my brother died, back in 1987, in the old East Glam Hospital, and I was fifteen. Twice was a little while ago at the new Royal Glam Hospital when those birds scared me and all the cars were dead. And what these two car parks taught me was this, right?

When everything's gone wrong and fuck all makes sense, if your brain is smart and knows what's good for it, what it'll do is try to ignore everything. It'll try to get you back to your distractions ASAP, whatever they are. It'll say, hey so life's got no inherent meaning but you invest it with your own meaning and basically just seize the day, have fun and be kind. (Laughs) Oh, and it'll also do that if it's a particularly thick brain. (Coughs) Yeah...and...then it'll get all obsessive over some hobby or other. According to the tastes it was brought up to enjoy, you know. Like golf, or fucking, or politics. Maybe faith, religious faith, that's an old favourite, right? (Sniggers)

But my brain, for some reason, this is what I learned in those car parks, doesn't do that. Distractions don't work, they don't distract. Stupid thin things they all seem, stale, flat, and useless. And everything is just a distraction really, every possible thing, love and pleasure, all just a distraction from this truth I'm drowning in right now. My brain, in those car parks, just goes numb and I start to see things in the landscape beyond the perimeter fence and I just don't know where or what I am.

Actually, I remember this Jehovah's Witness who came round the house one day, a few years ago now, and she was on the doorstep, you know, and I can rarely resist shooting the shit with them when they knock. I think they see me as a challenge. I usually talk about the Book of Job. Because that doesn't exactly show the non-existent bastard in the best light, does it?

I mean...(Laughs) it's all about God gambling with the Devil over the soul of the best man on earth, right? They have a bet and the stakes are this poor fella's eternal soul. Which is fucked up for a start, right? Because if He's God, and God is Love, then why did the bugger take the bet? Not very loving, that, is it? Kind of suggests the whole thing is just a game to Him, right?

Anyway, the Devil says, look here now, Jehovah, show me the best and most righteous man on that beloved planet of yours, and I bet I can get to him so bad that he ends up cursing you, his Lord God.

And what does our loving shepherd tell the Devil? Does He tell him, mate, fuck off, you're being a dick...(Coughs) and anyway, I've got a duty of care here, so no way, no bet, no deal. Back to the infernal realm with you, old son.

No, he says game on.

Knowing full well the kind of shit He's letting Job in for, right, all the delicious death and disease and disaster the Devil has in store.

Game on.

And this is just to win a bet, mind.

(Yawns)

The funniest bit is the ending though. When God's righteous man, reduced by now to a toothless, hairless, multi-bereaved tramp with these pulsating buboes all over his body, sitting in the ditch where his home used to be, when poor old Job finally dares to raise the slightest, most timid, respectful little question to some sympathetic friends as to what the point is of all this devastation, down comes God Himself. There He is, right next to them, in the form of a whirlwind. He's come to talk to the bloke who's wondering why his life has so spectacularly fallen apart. And what does He do?

(Laughs)

What He does is He gives Job the most almighty bollocking for even thinking such a thing. And I mean like a really enormous bollocking. A god-sized bollocking. Makes it clear to Job in no uncertain terms that he doesn't even get to ask that question. That what's it all about, eh? that everyone asks at some point in their lives, usually when the shit's hit the fan. Don't even dare to wonder what it's all about, says God, only I know that, you're so tiny and bloody mortal, I can crush mountains, so I guess you'd better just STFU.

It's true, check it out yourself, Book of Job, in between Esther and Psalms.

And to back it up, He goes on and on, for two whole pages right, about what a massive big God He is, how incredibly powerful and mighty, how He made everything, and how He holds up the sky and moves the stars and fills every fathom of every ocean (Bellows) so how could you possibly expect to know what my plan is, puny mortal!

And He's a real sort of alpha male arsehole about it too, at one point boasting about His big dangerous monster pets, Leviathan and Behemoth, and talking about how He hooks them through the lips and drags them around on chains. Now that sounds all too bloody familiar, dunnit? Like, 24-year-old Lee from Clydach swaggering around with his pitbulls, Tyson and Facefucker. The god version of that syndrome, right?

And all the time this Jehovah thug is all up in poor old Job's pustulent, ruined, human face, giving it all the sarcastic questions routine, I wonder if you could drag sea monsters around on chains? I wonder if you could hold up a mountain, eh? EH?

So that's essentially God's answer to Job, his answer to the question of why a loving God allows suffering in the world. And the answer is because shut the fuck up, that's why.

Hallelujah!

(Coughs, inhales more nicotine vapour)

And I mean, yeah, God does magic back Job's stuff in the end, his house and all his sheep and that, and he does clear up his boils for him and gives him new kids to replace the dead ones, after the Devil gives up the bet, but still...think of the psychic trauma, the PTSD for poor bloody Job. Because there's no mention of God giving him a merciful mind wipe, like Men in Black, so he can forget the whole twisted fucking nightmare. No, the poor sod has to spend the rest of his life all freaked out, walking on eggshells, never able to relax into it all, even at his kitchen table with his new daughters around him, because he's always totally and horrifically aware that any time it can all be shat on and pissed over, for no reason at all.

Anyway, so I'd spin this out for them on the doorstep, the Jehovah's Nusiances, and they'd smile pityingly at how a lost soul can read the True Word of God and still go astray.

(Laughs)

Or maybe they thought I was the devil, trying to send them astray.

I've got one about the Tower of Babel too...but...maybe another time...(Indistinguishable) All working together...(Inaudible)...must be the only time in the whole of human history, international co-operation (Indecipherable)...too many ruined buildings in this story without that one on top (Laughs, slurps).

Sorry, just eating...daring to eat...a peach.

(Slurps) Or a reasonable facsimile thereof.

No, but the point I was trying to make was this, right? This Jehovah's Witness, she said to me that what will happen is this. When the Day comes, there'll be a final battle between Jehovah and Satan. After a load of terrible armageddon and apocalypse stuff, God will win and everyone who is still alive on the planet will be sorted by the Angels into two groups, the Saved and the Damned. The Damned go straight to Hell, of course, to be punished and tortured for all eternity. And the Saved? They get to stay on the Earth and live forever, at their physical peak, on a planet transformed so it's like the Garden of Eden again.

The way this woman described it...She said that if you were one of the Saved, you could live forever and, you know, inherit the earth. Do all the things you always wanted to do. Like me, she said, I love to knit and what I'd really love to do is start off with fleece straight from the sheep, and then go all the way through preparing it and washing it and dyeing it and carding it and finally knitting clothes with it. To me, that would be heaven. To you, something different, but whatever it is there would be time for. Words to that effect. Nice little lady in her 70s, very slight, delicate features, pale skin, quite ordinary looking, and yet that little bone china head of hers was the container of such a tiny, cosy eternity, she and her saved friends and a neverending supply of sheep.

(Coughs)

It seems so obviously bloody silly but, you know, it kept this little old lady trudging up the steep steps of every house on our side of the street in the pissing grey drizzle. An insane act, surely? But it's working for her you know? It goes to show how far you can go if you really invest in some crock of shit or other. Don't forget, it's all about distraction. Your brain knows the truth, deep down. It knows there's no reason for any of this, no reason and no purpose. It knows there's no God, there's no Devil and there's fuck all when you die. Even that little Jehovah lady, even her brain knew it deep down. But, unlike me, she'd invested in some crock of shit or other, and that kept her happily distracted. As far as she was concerned, she wasn't just spouting nonsense at indifferent strangers in a cold wet cul de sac in a slowly dying post-industrial zone among the impoverished uplands of northern Europe. No, she was on a very special mission (Giggles)...from God...it's quite sweet really.

(Giggles, coughs).

And despite my best efforts as devil's advocate, she stuck with it. Although she never did call back, which isn't like them, is it? Once they've got their hooks in, they keep coming back, don't they? Not this one, though.

I wonder why she didn't call back.

(Laughs, coughs)

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